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hobbitsnapes · 3 years ago

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YOU GUYS ARE DATING

Corpse x MGK!sister reader

(Found this image on Pinterest so all credit goes to artist, if you know who it is please comment below so I can credit them)

A/N: this was requested by @heyitssab

Tree is tall of sex in this, but it’s more in a joking matter, plus corpse has stated he doesn’t mind as long as you are not a minor or send or tag him. I’m literally 2 years younger than him, and have no intentions of ever tagging him or sending him any of my work XD

Summary: how many idiots does it take to tell the brother and friend they’re dating? Apparently takes 2 very forgetful people, who kept their relationship secret without knowing it.

It had just been by chance, a small chance that he had been scrolling through his tags. liking and reposting art, when he saw a tag from someone he followed. He wrecked his brain for when he had followed her, coming up empty. She was cute, no denying the beauty she had as she laughed in the video. It was a clip from a stream that he didn’t know she had, as he couldn’t even remember her name, wearing his merch as it fit her snug. It fit her perfectly in fact, the large hood covering her face, hiding the flush to her face from her rather large chuckles that left her body. He couldn’t help but like the photo, and he couldn’t help but to press message either.

It was first only small likes to posts, an Occasional message, and a view on their livestreams, but that all changed when he spoke of the song he was working on with her older brother.

It all started that night, when both lay in their beds as they talked, laughed, and felt their hearts flutter each time they heard one another speak.

Her phone rang violently in her bag, nearly making her drop the to go bag all over the ground as she walked. “Hello?” She asked, as she held both bags with her hands as her shoulder gripped the phone as if it’d fall down a cliff. “Hey bug!” He exclaimed, making her chuckle as she heard the booming sound of his voice. She had always detested the nickname, as he gave it to her as kids due to her horrendous fear of the creatures. But, it brought more joy to her, as it reminded her of their youth. Having been adults for years, it was fun to hear such a childish name that’s stuck.

“Hey mopey.” She chuckled, as that was the name she gave him when he was in his emo phase that he never outgrew.

Both talked as she walked towards the elevator, mainly about how his day had gone as she silently listened.

She had always been this way, always the shyer of the two, the one to listen to others first before she said a word. He had teased her for it most of their childhood and teen life, but he had grown to love it, as he could let loose or rant to her about anything, and he knew she’d be there just to listen to him.

“So what’re you doing right now?” He asked, as she got into the elevator. “Just grabbed some dinner a few minutes before you called and nearly made me shit.” A smile painted on her face at his boisterous laughter.

“Are you at home?” He asked, as he heard the sound of the elevator beeping in the background. “No, I’m spending the night with my boyfriend.”

She had mentioned about a month prior that she was seeing someone, the joy it brought him to hear the excitement and joy in her tone as she gushed about their first date.

If this was 7 or 8 years prior, he would be bombarding her with questions about the man, who he was, where he lived, where he could meet him to find his intentions with his baby sister. But, in the last few years, he found himself feeling calmer whenever she’d mentioned her love life. He knew she was smart, and would never date a man who treated her poorly. The few breakups she had, they always ended amicably, her head still high as she told him. So, he never asked her any questions about the man, as he could tell from the few times she mentioned him, he could feel the love this man had for her, and Vice versa.

The strong barreling of her phone alerted them awake, both groaning out as she reached for her phone without lifting her head from his shoulder. “Hello?” She mumbled, voice slurred as the saliva was thick in her mouth, barely awake as she fought to listen in on who dares to wake them up.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, making her equally exhausted lover groan. She shifted off of him, laying on her back as he turned away from her, as to hopefully shut his eyes and fall back asleep. She was used to her brother's large voice, as it hardly phased her after growing up with him. “Colson, why are you calling me this ungodly hour?” “Oh come on, it’s not that early.” “Col its-“ She pulled her phone from her ear, eyes shutting violently as the bright light blinded her “5 o’clock in the morning. So again, I’m going to ask you, why did you call me at the asscrack of dawn?” “You don’t remember?” He asked, making her irritation grow. “No, that’s why I’m asking.” She says, as she rubbed her sleep crusted eyes. “You were coming up today to hang out with casie, remember?” Her hand stopped rubbing her face, as she felt her heart stop momentarily. “Wait, you mean today? I thought I was coming Friday?” “No, both of you settled on today, remember I told you that’s perfect because I have a day off?” She felt her heart pain as she heard the sadness in his tone, knowing he’s expecting her to bail. “Yeah sorry, I thought you meant Friday so I mixed it up, let me get ready and I’ll be out the door okay? Love you” she said, as she hung up the line.

Before she could even move, she felt his arm wrap around her body. A tired groan leaving his lips. “Nooo stayyyy.” He groaned, pulling her body to his. She smiled as she looked down at him, wrapping her arm on his chest and the other behind his neck. “I wish I could live, but I can’t.” Planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Stay in bed for a few more hours, please?” Her heart pulled at his tone, hearing just how tired he was. “I can’t, casies wanted me to come up for weeks now. And it takes a good 3 hours to get there. I wanna spend as much time as I can with them before it gets dark so I can get back safely.” He groaned at this, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah but it’s only 5, it wouldn’t be safe to drive since we went to bed like, 2 hours ago.” “Yeah, and whos fault was that mister?” She teased, “hmm, sorry but I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself after not seeing you for a few days.” He mused, pulling her body closer to his, planting his lips against hers. A small hum left her lips as he pulled her thigh over his, grabbing the flesh harshly as their lips cascaded together. “Mm, no no no, you’re not gonna convince me to stay here just to go another round.” She said, as she got off from his warm body, throwing his large hoodie over her bare body. “Oh come on babe, are you sure about that?” He said, making her turn around to him. A small gasp left her lips as her eyes took in his milky white complexion. His honey brown eyes looking back at her with a small smile etched onto his face. His hair a tousled mess that resembled a bird's nest, some pieces falling onto his face. “Honey, I’ve been wanting to see my family for weeks now, I see you almost everyday and practically live here. I’ll be back tomorrow so I can grab more clothes from my place okay?” She placed a kiss to his lips, both holding one another in their arms. “I don’t know why you don’t just say fuck that place and just move in.” He mumbled, making her chuckle and heart warm. “Don't you think it’s a little soon though? I mean we’ve only been together a few months love.” “Yeah, but you’ve practically lived here since we got together, you literally just go there to get more clothes that you end up leaving here.” She looked into his eyes as she thought about his words. “Hm, I’ll think about it today okay?” She mused, planting a kiss to his lips. A soft okay leaving him as she got up.

“And babe, remember if you live here, we can have all the sex we want and not have to worry about driving to get one another.” He exclaimed, laughing at the loud honey she screamed from the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but laugh out as she watched, as her niece tried her hardest to braid her fathers grown out hair. It was near impossible not to, as pieces would fall out, resulting in her pulling them harsher, nearly pulling his eyelids back due to the tension from his temples. “Okay okay you’re gonna fuckin scalp me.” He chuckled , as all three bursted out in large laughter.

“So how’s school going this year?” She asked her, as she delicately painted her nails. Both of the girls had found themselves on the floor in front of the nice coffee table, as colson sat and chatted with them. “It’s going really well.” “Oh yeah? Make any new friends?” She teased. “I mean, kinda.” She couldn’t help but hear the wavering in her tone, spotting the faint blush dusting her skin. “Ohh, so there’s a someone eh?” She teased to her, making the preteen hide her face as to conceal the flush. “His names Garrett, and we both take social studies together. He always sits next to me at lunch, and we’ll draw on my notebook.” She gushed, making her smile. “Soo, do you think he likes you?” “I mean, that’s what everyone keeps saying.” “Yeah well don’t worry about it to much cas, you’re not dating anyone for many more years. You’re still a kid.” Her das said, making the young girls face fall.

Y/N knew he was only saying this to protect her, as he said the same thing to her growing up. “Hey, don’t be bummed out about it. He is right, you both are only 12 and should focus on school. But don’t worry, he’ll come around. He was just like that with me up until my current boyfriend.” She whispered, making the young girl chuckle.

“Speaking of which, how are you guys doing?” He asked, as she hadn’t mentioned hun to her in a while. He didn’t think it’d hurt to ask. “Great actually, we’re thinking of moving in together actually.” “That’s great! I’m really happy that y’all met.” “Yeah, I am too.” She hummed, a flush dusting her cheeks.

Both men laughed as they chatted on the phone, talking about anything that would come to mind. What was once only a collaboration for a song, turned into an amazing friendship that caused both of them to call at late hours just to shoot the shit.

A yawn left his lips, as he listened to colson ramble on about another song he was making. “Woah, you tired man?” Colson asked, shocked to hear the sound. “Yeah sorry, was up most of the night last night.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Were you feeling alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone. He knew all about his friends illnesses, even once being on the other end of the phone during a bad spell one day.” “Oh yeah yeah yeah, was just, up with the misses last night.” He chuckled, a flush blooming on his cheeks. “Ohhh yeah? And how was it?” This shocked him, nearly feeling his heart stop. Like, does he usually know about his sisters sex life? He didn’t think much of it, as he knew just how close both were. “It was absolutely fucking amazing. Like I thought we’d be done for the night, fully tapped out but after like 5 minutes she’d be right back on me for another round.” He chuckled, his flush even worse than before. “Ayyyeee good for you corpse, glad to hear that puss is bussin.” He laughed at this, throwing his head back. “Yeah, it’s bussin bussin.”

Both men talk as they read from their phones, eyes wide in absolute awe of the love they received from the song. They had just dropped it a few days prior, not expecting the cry of joy from both fan bases.

He didn’t even look up from it when she walked in, until she bent down to plant a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry I had completely forgot about the tea I made you an hour ago, but I put it back on the stove to heat it up so if it’s twisting funky just tell me okay?” Before he could even thank her, both their heads whipped towards the loudness from the other line. “Y/N? Is that you? What in the hell are you doing there with corpse!” He didn’t sound angry, more shocked than anything, both of them looking at the phone in confusion. “I, I love here? Remember I told you like a month ago I was moving in with him?” “WHAT!” Both jumped at the loud scream. “Wait so you guys are dating!?” Both we’re even more perplexed, until it dawned on both of them. Their eyes wide as they turned their heads to one another slowly. “Wait you didn’t tell him?” “No? He’s one of your best friends so I thought you did!” “He’s your brother! So I thought you did!” Both whisper, until all three lay silent. That was until, the large cry of laughter that leaves the two, leaving colson even more confused. He wasn’t mad, not at all actually. More shocked and confused than anything. Until he started thinking, it does make sense, all the times they spoke about one another without him knowing, all the times they mentioned-“OH GOD!” He yelled, gagging violently, making them stop their laughing fit. “What's wrong? Why are you yelling?” She asks “like a month ago corpse was talking about how he was tired cause he was up all night having sex AND I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU! OH GOD WAS THAT WHY YOU WERE LIMPING THAT DAY WITH CAS AND I!” Both laugh even harder, as they listen to his ever growing gags.

“So yeah,. That’s literally how we had no idea we were keeping the relationship secret from her brother.” He laughed, as he red the comments and listened to his friends' laughter. She sat beside him, head laying on his shoulder as he told the story. She couldn’t help but to look back up into his eyes, as he glanced down at her, planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Keep it pg guys.” Colson said from the other line, making them chuckle.

#corpse husband imagine #corpse #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse fic #corpse x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

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Vogel und Jäger

- PART TWO

Summary: After waking up, you realise the realities of the world you've been pulled into. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: stabbing, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: make sure to read part one, otherwise this won't make any sense xD there's still a bit of build up going on, but starting with part three we'll be getting some action

You woke up from a restless sleep, crumbs of mascara stuck to your face. God, you needed a shower and a toilet immediately. The club was dead empty from the view upstairs, only a few people cleaning the tables and moping the floor. You stretched your arms and walked to the door, surprised it wasn't locked.

"Ah, miss Y/L/N, good morning! I hope you had a pleasant sleep." Someone startled you and you cleared your voice.

"Hi, who are you?"

"Oh, my apologies, I am Onyankopon." The man smiled and handed you a paper bag. You peekee inside and saw something which resembled clothes and toiletries. You recognised the stag pin in his chest, another of Zeke's employees. "I assume you'd like to clean yourself up. Please follow me."

"I'd love that, thank you." You smiled and followed Onyankopon downstairs. He told you bits and pieces of the Jaeger family overthrowing the police and gaining control of Paradis City, how the Marleyans wanted control over the city's resources and docks, all kinds of information you weren't entirely sure you were supposed to know. He walked you to the backstage, where all the strippersdancers got ready, encouraging you to use whatever you needed for you'd be the star of the club. That didn't help you in any way, instead it was anxiety-inducing, and your toes curled at his affirmation. You quickly took off last night's makeup, brushed your teeth, washed your face and body in a sink and got dressed. The clothes were simple, a long, light blue shirt — clearly a man's — and a pair of leggings. You wondered whom they belonged to, perhaps that grim-looking lady, Yelena. She terrified you with her look that could kill. Your hands hovered over the vanity in the dressing room but decided not to waste any more time and folded your old clothes, placing them in the paper bag.

"I'm ready." You walked out of the room and met with Onyankopon. He smiled and guided you out through the back door. "Hey, Onyankopon, who's Mikasa?"

"Oh, miss Mikasa is our best assassin. She's loyal only to Eren, though, which is an impediment for Zeke... I probably shouldn't have said that." He opened the door of a superb black car and you climbed inside with a sigh. You heard how the mafia was based on trust, and no one trusted you.

Most of the ride was silent, your eyes wandering out the window until Onyankopon parked in front of a huge and heavily guarded mansion. You knew the Jaegers were rich, but this was beyond obscene. You opened the door and Onyankopon scolded you for doing that, but you assured him you were perfectly capable of doing things by yourself. He walked you through the beautiful front garden of the mansion, through the large hallway and into what you assumed to be a living room. Or an office? Whatever that was, it was as big as the dining room of the orphanage.

"Ah, the little bird has arrived! You look splendid in my shirt." Zeke welcomed you and you felt your cheeks warm up at his words. The heat disappeared just as quickly when your eyes met with Yelena's. "Come, sit. I suppose you're hungry."

You nodded, feeling saliva building up in your mouth at the sight of croissants, bagels and all kinds of foods you've never had before. Historia was rich, but even her money wasn't enough to feed so many mouths. Doors swung open and you saw Eren barge in, followed by a few people close behind. He plopped on a couch opposite you, the same inexpensive look on his face.

"Let's get over with this. I've got shit to do."

"Impatient as always." Zeke rolled his eyes. "Y/N, do you swear to obey and serve the Jaeger family?" The question caught you off guard, but you nodded.

"I do."

"There, done." The older Jaeger brother shrugged and Eren clicked his tongue.

"You almost didn't let Mikasa walk out of this room alive because she swore loyalty to me and this is all you do to her? You're getting soft, brother."

The air in the room grew thick, almost impossible to breathe it in. All eyes were on you, and you didn't know if what you felt was shame or fear, or both.

"Very well." Zeke walked behind you and took your left hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Hold that there, will you, love?" He smiled and you slightly relaxed. Until — a sharp pain, followed by electricity and heat shot from your hand, through your arm. A blood-curling scream erupted from your throat, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you squirmed and thrashed at burning sensation, your hanned pinned to the table with a knife. Blood seeped from the wound and you panicked, no one in that room rushing to your aid. No one blinked, no one felt sorry. "Swear your loyalty to me. To the Jaeger family."

"I swear! Oh, God, I s-swear! Please!" You begged, feeling your temperature falling from your cheeks. Zeke twisted the knife and you fell from the couch, knees hitting the wooden floor.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, unphased by your whimpers, sobs and yelling, as he let go of the knife that still pierced your flesh.

"T-to you! Make it stop, p-please!"

"Good enough for me. Any objections?" Zeke eyed his little brother.

"Just stitch her hand. She's annoying." Eren clicked his tongue and poured himself a cup of coffee. When Onyankopon pulled the knife out, blood gushed out of the fresh wound and you felt the room spin and your head heavy, vision blurry — you fainted.

A hard slap across your cheek woke you up and you met with Yelena, eyes drifting to your bandaged hand. It was damn painful to move it, and you used your other hand to support your weight, shifting your position on the couch.

"Finally." Eren got up and and handed you a file. You flipped through it and found pictures and information of the men from the club.

"Y/N, this is Armin, our bookkeeper. He'll be paying you after every successful show. And this is Mikasa, she'll train you in self-defence. I suspect you won't need it, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Zeke pushed the glasses with his index finger.

"You stabbed me." You bluntly stated, eyes glued to the bandages.

"It'll heal."

"It'll heal? I'm already in debt, you didn't need to stab me!" You got up and instantly felt a gun to your head. Great.

"Sit." Yelena's voice was brash and commanding. Your brain told you to listen to her, but your instincts told you to provoke her, to taunt her. Teeth gritting, you took a deep breath and lowered yourself down, deciding to do both.

"You're not gonna shoot me without Mr. Jaeger's permission, so don't point your gun at me." A satisfied smirk creeped on your lips — you didn't technically provoke her, just stated the obvious.

"Can I shoot her?"

"No." Zeke enjoyed the show, and unbeknownst to you, he, too, felt somewhat proud of your little snarky remark. "You still have to prove your loyalty. Talk to the band, choose some songs for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. You're free to settle your training hours with Mikasa, and to go wherever you want, but you are not allowed to step foot anywhere outside the centre of Paradis. Last thing I need is some Marleyan kidnapping you and torturing you for information. Or the cops. Dismissed."

"Mr. Jaeger, if I may?" You waited for his nod of approval. "Since I won't be living at the orphanage anymore, where exactly am I going to stay?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Blouse, Springer, come here." Zeke waved his hand. More people, more names.

It slowly dawned to you that the Jaegers had a thorough structure with extremely loyal people, and you'd have to quickly find your place there and earn their trust, lest you died a painful death. A bubbly brown-eyed woman and a cheerful-looking man approached Zeke's desk, and finally you saw someone less serious. Onyankopon was nice and all, but he wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine. These two seemed... fun.

"These are Sasha Blouse and Connie Springer, leaders of the drug cartel. You'll stay with them until you're capable of living by yourself."

The duo smiled at you and you felt genuine warmth from them, making you wonder just how bad the mafia was. They seemed to like working for the Jaeger brothers, but you couldn't judge that just yet.

"Oh, we've already moved your stuff to their place, so there is no need for you to visit Historia. Now go, we've got work to do." Zeke placed a cigarette between his lips before turning his back at you.

You were right, Sasha and Connie were fun people. They talked a lot, and you warmed up to them with a few jokes and puns. Connie handed you a phone containing a few contacts, neither of which were Zeke or Eren— apparently you weren't allowed to speak to them, they would speak to you. Sasha explained how you had to forget your past, and dedicate yourself solely to the family — no relationships, no friends, no acquaintances. You were not permitted to fall in love, which was understandable, considering the circumstances, but hard, considering the inability to control feelings.

"Don't worry about it too much. Zeke and Eren care about their subordinates, as long as you listen." Connie wrapped an arm around your neck. Besides, you're one of the lucky ones. Boss never spares witnesses, so he clearly saw potential in you." Somehow, that didn't make you feel any better, you only felt more weight on your shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard you can sing!" Sasha beamed, clapping her hands. "I can't wait for your first show, I bet it'll be awesome."

"It has to be, otherwise you'll have to come to my funeral." You shook your head, exiting Jaeger Manor. A honk caught your attention and you saw Mikasa impatiently waiting for you in a car. "Any advice before I go?"

"Don't get attached to any of us." Connie sighed.

"But trust that the family will protect you if you're loyal." The woman encouraged you before hugging you. A hug, something you never thought you'd get from a mobster.

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occasionally-writing · 4 years ago

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Let’s Go To Bed

A/N: I am on a roll right now XD I mean...yes it’s almost 5:30 in the morning and did I sleep? Also a no XD But I can’t help but keep putting out ideas and my brain cannot shut down! Anyways, enough of my bad sleeping habits, I really hope you guys enjoy the fic! I seriously cannot wait until Friday <3

Summary: After staying late at the club, Sarawat comes home to find Tine fast asleep at his desk before he wakes him up and pampers him with a mug of warm milk and snuggles before they both go to bed.

Word Count: 1554

Sarawat could not wait until he was finally able to go home. He knew his boyfriend was waiting for him and just knowing that fact was the thing that kept him going all through rehearsal. Having to stay late on P’Dim’s order, Sarawat only grumbled slightly and chose not to fight, coming to the conclusion that if he argued, he and the rest of Ctrl+S would have to stay even later in the form of a sick punishment for talking back to him. Letting his shoulders relax as he let out a sigh, Sarawat packed up his guitar, making sure it was safely in its case before he pulled it around his shoulders, securing the whole thing against his back. Being the last one to leave, Sarawat waved off his fellow members and swiftly turned, heading towards the parking lot so he could get on his scooter and leave.

Not minding the ride home, the traffic still kind of hefty yet not as much as it is during the day and late afternoon hours, Sarawat hummed to himself and found that he could barely hold in his excited smile once he noticed the condo building that Tine and himself moved into earlier in the year. Trying not to break any speeding laws, Sarawat drove into the lot and parked his scooter in its usual spot, placing his helmet back in the storage spot underneath the seat while he spun his keys around on one finger. Making sure everything was secure, Sarawat nodded and spun around on his heels, practically jogging towards the door. Not forgetting to give the woman behind the counter a polite wai on his way in, Sarawat clicked the button for the elevator and waited with an impatient tap of his foot.

“Tine, I’m back. Sorry I’m late, P’Dim decided to keep us late and-” Pausing when his boyfriend’s voice didn’t greet him back, Sarawat bit back a worried frown and placed his guitar securely against the wall, toeing off his shoes as he entered further into their home. Noticing the sound of music coming from their room, Sarawat stalked towards it and peered into the unusually quiet room, letting out a breath through his nose when he noticed Tine. Leaning on the door-frame as he observed him, Sarawat couldn’t help the smile that rose on his face as he took in the sleeping other, the music coming from his boyfriend’s phone, Sarawat recognizing the playlist that he had put together. It contained easy music to listen to for study sessions, songs with no singing and just a calming beat. “I swear I can fall in love with you even more, my Little Buffalo.”

Deciding to stroll over to Tine, Sarawat placed a gentle palm on the boy’s shoulder and carefully shook him, obviously not wanting to scare him into accidentally falling off the desk chair. Letting out a sleepy complaint on being woken up, Tine turned his face from where it was squished on the wood of their desk and opened his one eye just a tiny crack, taking in the blurry figure of his boyfriend who was smiling at him softly. Blinking as his sleep filled mind took in Sarawat, Tine slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes, letting them land on his boyfriend once more to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Shaking his head in fondness, Sarawat observed Tine a bit closer and felt his smile fade a bit when he noticed the dark circles that were standing stark under his usually bright chocolate brown eyes.

“Tine...did you sleep at all since you woke up early this morning?” Sarawat asked as he reached out and cupped Tine’s face, his thumbs brushing softly at the dark bags. Leaning into Sarawat’s warm touch, Tine stifled a yawn and tried to think back throughout his day, not remembering anything about laying down or even napping. Taking in the way Tine was struggling to remember, Sarawat sighed and glanced at whatever his boyfriend had been working on, examining the notes for a class he knew Tine was having a bit of trouble in. No wonder he was so tired, studying can take a lot out of someone, more so when it was a subject he quite didn’t grasp so easily. “Okay, no more studying. Get up and shower, I can see you ate already so let me make you some warm milk or something. Go!”

“But…” Tine mumbled, obviously trying to not get out of studying more. Not budging on the subject, Sarawat kept his expression firm, Tine noticing right away that he wasn’t going to win this round. Wearing a heavy, yet adorable, pout on his face, Tine huffed and pushed himself out of the chair, making the slow trudge towards the bathroom, secretly glad he was going to take a shower, however not wanting Sarawat to know so he wouldn’t gloat about being right. Pausing at the open door, Tine turned his neck to sleepily glare at his boyfriend before he stuck out his tongue, letting out another huff as he closed the door behind him. “You’re lucky I like you!”

Narrowing his eyes as his boyfriend stuck his tongue out at him, Sarawat could only shake his head with a sigh of amusement, turning his attention away from the bathroom just as the shower started and the sound of the water hitting the wall caught his ears. Gathering up Tine’s notes, Sarawat organized them and placed them back in the folder Tine had left on the desk. Pushing them off to the corner so that most of the desk was clear, Sarawat placed his hands on his hips and turned, making his way towards the kitchen to make that promised mug of warm milk. Not having to wait long to hear the shower turn off, Sarawat finished up the milk fast, adding the last tablespoons of pure honey and mixing it just as the bathroom door opened and Tine stepped out. Dragging his feet into the kitchen as he caught the scent of Sarawat’s well known warm milk, Tine didn’t realize Sarawat was looking him up and down while he handed the mug over to him.

“Is that my shirt?” Hearing the question, Tine hummed over the small gulp he took of the delicious beverage before he turned his attention down to his body. Oh, would you look at that, it was Sarawat’s shirt. Meeting his boyfriend’s eyes with a hum and a shrug, Tine continued to down the rest of his milk while Sarawat continued to eye him up and down, not quite ashamed to show how much he really liked Tine wearing his clothing. The shirt went just past Tine’s thighs, leaving just a bit of the fabric from his boxers he was wearing visible. “You’re already cute, Little Buffalo. Why do you have to do this to my heart?”

“Oh, shush. This isn’t the first time I’ve worn something that’s yours. Stop being cheesy,” Tine sulked, finishing the last of the milk that was in the mug, giving it back to his boyfriend once he was sure it was completely empty. Leaving the mug in the sink for them to wash later on, Sarawat stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Tine’s waist, pulling him forward until their chests were pressed flushed together. Holding onto Sarawat’s shoulders, Tine tried to stifle another yawn but failed, leaning into his boyfriend as he buried his face into his shoulder. “Wat...m’tired.”

Nodding softly as he pressed a kiss to Tine’s hair, Sarawat let him go briefly, only to intertwine their hands, pulling the adorably sleepy other back towards their room, the only light being from the street lights shining into their window from the road below. Letting Tine get in bed first so that he could change out of his school clothes, Sarawat slipped into a pair of shorts and nothing else, leaving a shirt out of the equation much to Tine’s, fake, displeasure. Rolling his tired eyes at the grin Sarawat shot his way when he noticed Tine checking him out, Sarawat slipped into the free side and helped his boyfriend under the light blanket. Turning on his side as Sarawat got comfortable, Tine didn’t have to wait long before arms were wrapping around his waist and he was pulled back into a sturdy chest, a face being buried in the back of his shoulders as their legs got tangled together. Circling around until they were face to face, Tine stared sleepily into Sarawat’s eyes until he moved once more and buried his face into Sarawat’s neck, his own arms wrapping around his boyfriend’s waist.

“What about a shower…?” Tine questioned, his voice beginning to grow husky with the signs of sleeping trying to take him over. Letting out a soft whispering promise of taking one tomorrow...maybe together...Sarawat only pulled Tine deeper into his warmth, letting his eyes flutter shut as he felt Tine’s arms tighten from where they were strewed around his waist. Keeping his breathing light and calm, Sarawat didn’t let himself sleep just yet since he knew Tine wasn’t asleep yet either. Letting out one final yawn, Tine snuggled more into Sarawat’s chest and let out a contented sigh. “Goodnight, Wat.”

“Goodnight, my Little Buffalo...see you in the morning.”

#2gether the series #still 2gether #tinewat #tinesarawat #tine x sarawat #sarawat x tine #my writing

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princeanxious · 6 years ago

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“Egg-celent” TSS- Patceit

Warnings: Aphobia, sympathetic deceit

I was requested to write this prompt with anyship, i gave it a shot xD , all errors are mine, and i hope ya’ll like it bc it’s almost 1 am for me.

Prompt: “You’re famous and I jokingly left a comment on your social media post asking if you’ll go egg my ex-partner’s house with me this weekend, and I never actually expected you to respond, let alone show up Friday night with dark sweatshirts, toilet paper rolls, and three egg cartons tucked under your arm” AU

Prior/extra info: Patceit AU where Patton is Famous(and has a youtube and uses it for good) and just moved into Dimitri’s hometown, and Dimitri is also a youtuber but a much smaller one, known for amazing stage/costume makeup artistry and the peculiar way that one side of his face is covered in freckles and the fact that his eyes have heterochromia. Patton is also really tall(6’4) and Dimitri is really short(5’2).

———

‘Hey, /PatPuffballSanders, wanna help me go egg my ex’s house this weekend? I’d bet it’d be sp-egg-tacular.’

-posted at 10:23 pm, by /BoopDiSnek

The short makeup artist hadn’t expected things to escalate this far, and well, in all honesty, he hadn’t expected anything to happen at all. Perhaps it was the fact that Patton Sanders was famous, known well for his pretty voice, sneaky puns, dad humor, and growing popularity as a voice actor.

He was a ray of sunshine, and readily used that talent on every social platform he could to make people smile, but primarily on Youtube. The tall puppy of a man had a pun of the day, animal shelter promo of the week, and a monthly charity stream where he’d invite his friends and other youtubers of all kinds to play games and skits and challenges to raise money for all sorts of causes.

The puffball has a moral streak a mile wide, and has a segment for ‘Dad Chats’ in his videos with his viewers about how they should choose go about certain issues, and how their choices and feelings would affect their decisions, among other topics. He wasn’t good at words, but he tries to be the best influence he can, and that much was evident in any of his videos.

Perhaps it was the fact that Dimitri was still heartbroken, his boyfriend dumping him a week ago for someone else after a year and a half of dating. All because he was a ‘killjoy’ for not feeling sexually attracted to the man. It wasn’t even that Dimitri didn’t want it, he just hadn’t felt any of the sort towards his ex yet and didn’t feel the need to fake an act. It hadn’t sat well with his ex-boyfriends ego, apparently, as was evident in their last fight leading towards their breakup.

The words ‘freak’ and ‘prude’ had indeed stung, but not more than ‘unlovable’ had, the sentence burned into the forefront of his thoughts as his ex exclaimed it.

And maybe Dimitri had been a little out of it, typing the sarcastic message through his angry tears.

Even when pressing the post button had sent a jolt of nervousness through him, having tagged his favorite ball of sunshine, he’d never expected a response. It was evident in the comments his followers added to his post, concerned about his full week of silence, that the question had been silly. Patton? Patton Hart Sanders? The Patton Hart Sanders, egging a house? Sure, Patton had just moved into Dimitri’s hometown, but their hometown was big enough that he’d probably never run into the voice actor anyhow. And Patton just wasn’t that kind of person.

In any case, his phone had been left on the charger as he went to make some tea, and had almost spilled it everywhere when he returned 10 minutes later. A single notification from Patton Sanders himself sat, waiting to be read.

‘Now, I don’t know about eggin’ a house, Kiddo, but you sure have got me on the ‘Egg’ of my seat, ‘fryin’ to know whats eating at you. You feeling okay, Di?’’ It was a private message, sent two minutes ago, and Dimitri was barely breathing.

Okay, so maybe Dimitri was pretty gay for Patton, it was a popular type of crush, nothing very real, and that was all. He looked up to the man, definitely. However, there was no way in heaven that Patton Sanders had privately dm’d him. He could scarcely believe it, even after triple checking that this was an official Patton Sanders account. Perhaps it was unprofessional, but Patton seemed genuinely worried and was trying to reach out, and that made Dimitri feel guilty.

“Hey Pat! Don’t worry about it, I was just joking around.” He squinted at the sentence, scrutinizing it for any particular error before sending it, Patton’s response was almost immediate.

“Something tells me you weren’t, but i’ll let it slide for now, kiddo. The question remains, are you feeling okay?”

“Honestly? No, but i will be. Aphobia sucks, though. Some dude my ex turned out to be.”

It took Patton three extra minutes to respond, a hesitance present in his response. “Oh goodness, that sounds bad.. on second thought, that egging his house idea doesn’t sound so mean after all, Di!” Dimitri snorted, gently waving off the others suggestion through another message.

Back and forth they went for another hour, talking about video ideas and plans and possible collab ideas. Perhaps Dimitri was in over his head, he’d never collabed with anyone before, but he wasn’t going to turn Patton's suggestion for a stage makeup challenge for a charity livestream down.

Eventually they both went to bed, and time moved on.

Dimitri picked himself back up and threw himself back into his videos, breaking the silence with a short explanation video followed by his regularly scheduled videos. By the time Friday rolled around, Dimitri had all but forgotten about his question to Patton. Over the course of the week, both of them had gotten closer, talking about their town and suggestions of places to go, and promises to meet up that hopefully would not become empty.

It was mid-afternoon when Dimitri, who was currently mid-edit thankfully and not mid-makeup mode, got a knock on his door. Confused, he wandered to his front door and opened it, peering through his glasses at the outside world.

Well, attempting to peer, as suddenly Dimitri is met with a blue sweater-clad chest and a happy squeal of excitement coming from the man standing at his door. It takes two seconds for Dimitri to blink upwards at the taller man and recognize him as Patton Sanders, it takes Dimitri two more minutes for his brain to catch up with Patton’s excited rambling.

And to catch up with the fact that Patton is hugging him.

He notices Patton has a few things in one arm, most notably, a couple cartons of eggs. He can’t help but crack a smile, completely flabbergasted that Patton actually thought of going through with this.

Dimitri’s thoughts are going wild, and he’s pretty sure he has a headache coming on, but instead of addressing it, he plays it cool and invites the other in and decides to make tea for the both of them.

When Patton pulls out two black sweaters, one turned inside out,along with a mask and some toilet paper, Dimitri can’t hold back his giggles. He misses the way Patton lights up at the sound, and lets Patton know that they really weren’t going to egg his ex’s house. The relief is evident in Patton’s voice, “Thank goodness! I don’t think we’d fair too well in the dark!”

Dimitri can’t help but agree, adjusting his glasses. No, not even his contacts could save him for the depth perception nightmare that was aiming in the dark, plus, they’d easily get caught. Absently, Dimitri moves to hand the inside out sweater back, flipping it right side out now that the dark interior wasn’t needed, only to pause. His eyes caught on the graphic print on the front of the sweater, adjusting it in his hands so he could see it fully. He paused again, squinting at the familiar design.

It held a cute albino snake curled around a small round ornament, blepping contently with the words ‘It cold’ next to her. Under the graphic, the name of the snake was presented in pretty cursive lettering, ‘Nova.’

“Pat.. is this?? My winter merch??” Dimitri could barely hold back his disbelief, glancing up at a flustered Patton. Patton owned the merch of his pet albino python, Nova, and goodness gracious Dimitri needed to sit down.

“In my defence!! Nova is cute!! And she's even cuter when happily curled around you!” Patton huffed, arms crossed as he blushed, though unashamed at his remark. Dimitri’s mind went a hundred different ways at that, before just putting his face in his hands and sighing.

After calming down a bit, he had an idea, and glanced up at Patton who blinked at him nervously, afraid he’d messed up somehow.

“Wanna hold her?” Patton’s bright grin was worth the brief stuttering of Dimitri’s thoughts.

With permission, a picture was taken of Patton with Nova wrapped around his shoulders, captioned ‘Nova found her #1 fan, it seems!’ and posted on both of their social accounts.

And if the media went a little shipping crazy at the two’s meeting, that was fine by them.

(The End?)

I might draw somethink for this but idk yet.)

#sanders sides #patton sanders #sympathetic deceit #patceit #luka writes #luka’s aus

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sassyshoulderangel319 · 5 years ago

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Sleepover Date

I like the ASMR recordings so I figured I’d write 3,171 words of what led up to Kiro’s because... what can I say, I was wondering what would lead up to it and I love the guy XD He and Victor are my two favorites

Previous MLQC writings: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

My phone vibrated early Friday morning. I groaned with complaint and swatted around at my bedside table to find it. Once I found it, I peeked through my closed eyelids to see its bright screen with an even brighter smile and eyes on the Caller ID photo.

“Mornin’ Kiro,” I mumbled.

“Good morning, Miss Chips!” His happy tone was a little aggravating this early.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Oh. Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah but you only beat my alarm by four minutes.”

“Okay. Sorry again. I forget that you don’t have to wake up for a morning workout.”

“Thank the heavens,” I muttered. “So, what’s up? To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

He giggled like a schoolboy through the phone. “I was just wondering if you’d like to have a sleepover tonight!”

“Uh… what?”

“A sleepover! I’ll come pick you up after work and we’ll eat junk food and watch movies and just hang out, y’know? As friends. I haven’t done something fun like that in years.”

I blinked, brain slowly catching up to me. “Uh, Kiro?”

“Yes?”

“We’re, uh, we’re twenty-two,” I pointed out.

“So what? That means we can’t have a fun sleepover?” Kiro asked, sharper than I thought he’d be.

“Uh… I guess not.”

“So you’ll come over tonight?”

“Sure,” I said.

I could hear the celebratory tone of his voice as he cried out, “Yes! Text me when you get home from work. By the time I make it to your place from mine you should have enough time to throw an overnight bag together, right?”

“Probably, if you don’t mind me being super casual.”

“Mind? Why on Earth would I mind? Heck, I welcome it! I’m gonna be one-hundred-percent casual too! Oh this is going to be great! We can put the couch cushions on the floor like we’re little kids and just have a good time!” He sounded so happy that I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay. I’m excited now. I’ll see you tonight,” I said.

“See you tonight!” He giggled again and hung up.

I set my phone back on the bedside table and hopped out of bed. I pulled on a more casual outfit for a Friday and threw a few things onto my bed that I could pack when I got home after work.

Once I ate breakfast and finished getting ready, I rushed out the door and headed for the office. A sleepover. With Kiro. Oh my word. This was either going to be insanely fun, or a disaster. Probably the former, but sometimes stuff happened. I was really looking forward to a sleepover.

It was kind of amusing—thousands of die-hard fans only dreamt of having a sleepover with Kiro at his house and I actually got to do it. Because we were friends.

Real friends.

All day I could barely focus on work. Neither could anyone else—it was Friday—but I was too excited for tonight. Victor noticed in my over-the-phone report that I seemed distracted and decided before I could even explain that I was just looking forward to some plans for tonight he decided that we’d finish the report on Monday.

Even better. One less task and no berating.

The day passed quickly after that.

Before I knew it, my phone was to my ear.

“Miss Chips!” Kiro greeted brightly.

“Hey! I just walked out of my building, so I’ll be home soon and then packed. I just thought I’d give you a little extra heads-up.”

“Aw! So thoughtful! Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe and sound and home and then I’ll leave to come get you so you have time to pack!”

“Sounds like a plan. See you soon!”

“See you soon! Aw man, I am so excited for tonight!”

I laughed. “Me too. Thanks for the invite!”

“Of course!”

I was on Cloud Nine all the way back to my apartment. When I got there, I texted Kiro that I was home safe and packing up. I got back a string of emojis that seemed to be mostly of the happy and excited variety.

Once at home, I changed into a more comfortable set of clothes and got started.

While I packed my overnight bag, I listened to one of his albums in the old CD player I kept on the floor of my closet. There was something fun about CDs that I just didn’t get with my phone. They didn’t feel quite the same to listen to. Sure phone audio in my headphones sounded clearer than my slightly-fuzzy old CD player speakers, but with the CD player I felt like I was a kid again—before phones were so commonplace.

I sang along and giggled to myself as I packed. Pajamas, change of clothes for tomorrow, toiletries, some snacks, a book, a couple of my favorite movies, water bottle, hairbrush, all the normal sleepover stuff. I also threw in a pack of cards in case we wanted to play a card game.

Though I was positive that with money like his, Kiro probably owned a deck of cards. Still. I liked mine. They were soft and easy to shuffle after years of use.

I was in the middle of singing the chorus to one of Kiro’s songs when I heard an excited knock at the door. I shut the music off and rushed over to peek through the peephole. I figured only one person I knew would be that excited, but I imagined Gavin might also share some enthusiasm when he was in a good mood.

But no. A head of gold hair was standing out in the hallway. I yanked the door open. “Hi!” I greeted.

“Hey there, Miss Chips!” Kiro greeted brightly, giving me a hug. “You all ready?”

“Yup. Let me grab my bag—”

“Now. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you do that?” Kiro teased.

I snorted. “That sounds like an excuse to go in my bedroom,” I joked. Kiro’s ears turned a vibrant shade of red.

“N-no! That’s—that’s totally not what I meant!”

But I just kept laughing, my own face going red. “I knooow. I’m just playing around. Let me grab it out of my room and then, if you really want, you can help me with it. But I can totally handle it on my own. There’s barely anything in it apart from the obvious sleepover supplies.”

Kiro laughed too, slightly more awkward than mine. “Oh. Okay,” he said.

I went to my room and grabbed my bag, hauling it off my bed and rolling it out into the main room. Kiro was standing just inside the doorway looking around.

“Is that a cello?” He pointed to the instrument near my window.

“Yup,” I replied.

“I didn’t know you played.”

I shrugged. “I’m better at piano but my cello tends to attract fewer complaints from my neighbors. I have a keyboard with headphones in my room for when I want to play piano.”

Kiro glanced at the door I’d come out of. “You can come play at my place any time you want, if you want! I have a real piano that you can play to your heart’s content!”

I smiled. “You’re sweet, Kiro. Thank you. I’ll probably take you up on that. Electronic keyboards aren’t the same.”

“I agree. Now come on.” He swiped my rolling bag’s handle from my hand and offered me his other elbow before I could complain. “Shall we set out on our grand sleepover adventure?”

I laughed, looping my arm through his. “We shall!”

Stepping out, I locked the door behind me—

And heard a familiar voice that wasn’t Kiro’s asking my name.

Once the key was out of the lock I turned around, other hand still on Kiro’s arm. “Hi Lucien! This is a friend of mine. We’re just going to, uh…” How was I meant to say “have a sleepover” without sounding like a kid? If I even brought up the word “sleepover” in Victor’s presence—heaven forbid—I’d never hear the end of it. Lucien was a little more understanding, but still, I liked to have some dignity.

“I’m a musician,” Kiro cut in. “We’re going to my place to record her playing the piano.”

I squeezed his elbow in thanks.

Lucien seemed vaguely curious. “Sounds like an enjoyable activity. I hope you have a good time.” That last sentence was directed entirely at me—like Kiro didn’t even exist. Since Kiro was usually the center of attention, I wondered if he was irritated or relieved that Lucien wasn’t paying him any attention at all.

“We will. Thanks. See you later, Lucien!” I said as Kiro and I resumed our walk to the elevator. I waved over my shoulder. Lucien waved back. The elevator doors closed and cut off our view.

I sighed in relief.

“Whew. Thanks. Lucien’s an understanding guy but trying to explain a sleepover to my neighbor when we’re both adults just seemed… awkward,” I said.

Kiro couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. “Yeah, that’s why I said we were gonna record and I threw in the piano because… I’ve never heard you sing.”

I made a face as we reached the ground floor. “I’m okay at singing but I’m a much better pianist.”

“Well, you’ll have to sing for me tonight and I’ll be the judge of that,” he teased as we left my building and got in his car.

The drive to his house took a while, but we laughed and chatted the whole way so it didn’t feel that long. Kiro drove markedly slower than Victor did. Victor always seemed to speed everywhere. Kiro didn’t appear to be in any sort of rush. He followed the speed limit signs anyway. And he didn’t needle me for looking at him a lot. Especially when he was talking. Victor would have needled—“You’re looking at my face. Why?” Or something along those lines.

Kiro was very different. Friendly, open, sunshiney.

When we got to his house—villa—he got the door for me and got my bag before leading me inside. He had a nice, warmly-decorated interior. Sure it was spacious—I could probably fit most of my apartment in the foyer alone—but it didn’t have a cold, minimalistic, white look to it that other fancy mansions I’d seen on TV and been in for work had.

His was decorated in pale yellows and other complementary shades, giving the atmosphere a warm homeliness.

“Your place is so pretty!” I couldn’t stop myself from blurting out.

Kiro just chuckled. “Thanks! I didn’t do any of the interior designing but I did say I didn’t want it to feel empty. So there’s stuff everywhere.”

I glanced over at him playfully. “And… where’s Key’s secret room?”

He laughed. “Oh, Key doesn’t need one,” he said. “None of Key’s electronics are suspicious enough that they can’t be stored out in the open. Because Key isn’t an amateur.” He ruffled my hair teasingly—then sobered up. “Okay, no, but seriously, I don’t keep much equipment. Don’t really need to.” He shrugged and changed the subject. “Anyway! Lounge is through here. I got out some snacks. I also thought we could order pizza or something.” He led me through a double glass door with gossamer curtains on the other side to a nice, warm-toned lounge room.

It was decorated in creams and with red accents like throw pillows. I smiled upon seeing it.

“Your house is so beautiful.”

The tips of Kiro’s ears went red. “Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

I smiled. “My pleasure.” I plopped onto the creamy sofa and looked around casually. “So. What movies did you have in mind to watch tonight? I don’t have any particular preference as long as it’s not gory or gross and it might be fun to go on a run to the store to rent one and—what? Why are you staring at me like I just stabbed a cake with a pencil?”

“You can rent movies?!” Kiro demanded.

I blinked, confused. “Uh… yeah. It’s cheaper than buying them and when you have no intention of watching a movie more than once it’s really the best option. You didn’t know that?”

“No!”

My posture slouched. “Oh. Well. Okay,” I said, unsure of how else to respond to that without sarcastic contempt for privileged lifestyles that allow someone to just outright buy a movie they’re going to watch once and then never again.

Kiro dropped onto the sofa next to me and grabbed my shoulders. “Let’s do it! Let’s rent a movie!”

His innocent excitement made me laugh. “Okay, okay. Let’s just make sure you don’t look like you so no one mobs you at a supermarket movie rental kiosk.”

“Definitely! Let me go get my disguise stuff!” He hopped to his feet and ran out of the lounge room.

“You’re not wearing a teddy bear costume to the supermarket, okay?!” I called after him.

“No duh!” he shouted back.

Shaking my head in amusement, I pulled out my phone and started looking up new movies we could rent. Somewhere else in the villa, I could hear Kiro bustling around in a hurry, knocking stuff over with quiet exclamations of, “Shoot!”

After a few minutes, he reappeared in the lounge room, wearing a pair of hipster glasses, a dark outfit, and a floppy beanie over his bright hair. “How do I look?” He beamed at me, spreading his hands out and giving me a spin like he was showing off a concert look to his stylist.

“Decidedly not like the Kiro that gets mobbed by fans the second he exits the door,” I teased.

Kiro pumped his fist in the air. “Bullseye!”

I laughed. “Let’s get going, you dork.”

“You know what will really throw people off from believing I’m Kiro,” he remarked as we headed out of the lounge. Before I could even open my mouth to ask what would make him look different, he reached out and took my hand. “Holding your hand. As far as the world knows, I am single as a Pringle, baby!” His giggle made me laugh as we wandered out of the door.

He opened the door to the car for me and helped me in before circling the car and ducking into the driver’s side.

We drove to the store, chatting and laughing all the way.

“I hope I can say this without sounding weird,” I began, “but I really love hanging out with you.”

Kiro shot me a quick glance before returning his gaze to the road. There was a sparkle in his eyes. As usual. “Me too. You’re, like, the only normal part of my life. And even then… we’re both Evolvers. But you’re rarely hustling me around sets or concert venues or nagging after me like my manager does. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate his hard work but I always feel like I can relax around you. And just be me. Not my public face. Heck, you even know about Key.” He gave me another quick look, this one accompanied by a sly smile. “I really love hanging out with you too,” he added.

I smiled at him. “I’m glad. Did I sound weird?”

“Not at all. I’d hope that at this point we’d be close enough friends that you could admit you actually like being around me.” He laughed at his own joke—prompting me to join in. “That’s kinda the point of being friends, right?”

I nodded. “Right.”

***

A pair of strong arms scooped me up from where I was half-dozing on the sofa cushions on the floor. A gentle rocking sensation alerted my brain that whoever had picked me up was walking. And by “whoever,” I mean Kiro. Because there was no one else in the house besides us two. My brain was just slow at processing when it was sleepy.

After a few moments of the rocking, I was placed gently on a soft mattress.

Footsteps moved away from me.

“Kiro… stay…” I mumbled. “Please?”

There was a pause. Footsteps returned.

“Still don’t want to sleep?” His voice was tired and soft, but I could sense his usual energy and enthusiasm behind it. “If you don’t want to sleep… how ‘bout we find something to do?”

My brain activity picked up enough to register the question. I nodded.

“Well… what do you want to do?”

I thought for a moment. What did I want to do? It felt like we’d done everything that classic sleepovers involved. Kiro continued before I could answer after a moment of silence.

“Wanna play games? Or… wanna hear me sing?”

I definitely didn’t miss the flirtatious tone to that second question, but was too out of it to be embarrassed.

“I always wanna hear you sing,” I said.

Kiro smiled, but then his expression fell. “But… we seem to do those pretty often…”

I hummed in agreement. There was a long pause between the two of us while we thought up ideas for what to do. It was late and we were both tired, but apparently not tired enough to sleep. Kiro perched on the edge of the bed he’d set me in and settled comfortably.

“How about…” he began. “Let’s do something else.”

“No duh, Sherlock,” I muttered under my breath. He didn’t seem to hear me.

“Oh I know,” he said, softly, as though a glimmer of light illuminated a perfect idea, “read poetry?” His face leaned in close to mine. “Do you want to hear some?”

I hummed thoughtfully. I’d really rather hear him sing, but if he was determined to do something else, poetry was the next-best thing.

“Sure,” I mumbled.

He smiled. “Okay, okay. Let me look…” He trailed off. I felt him get off the bed and walk over to the other side. I heard him pour a glass of water and set it on the bedside next to me before going to look at a shelf on the wall. I barely processed his noise as he looked for some poetry to read.

After a minute or two—time was hard to tell when I was so tired—he came back, sitting on the edge of the bed again. He flipped through a few pages, some faster than others, looking through the book.

“Oh! This one is good,” he said, enthusiastic but quiet. He giggled. “Okay! Ask me why I picked this one!”

“Why did you pick this one?” I mumbled.

“Because this poem… it expresses how I feel…” His voice went from speaking low to a whisper. He scooted closer and gathered me to him. “And now, holding you in my arms, I will read you this poem.”

He paused. Probably for dramatic effect, and took a deep breath.

“Let’s start. You may not believe I have often imagined you…”

#MLQC Kiro #Mr. Love Queen's Choice #Mr. Love Queen's Choice Imagine #Mr. Love Queen's Choice FanFiction #MLQC #MLQC FanFiction #MLQC Imagine #Kiro

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bards-witcher · 6 years ago

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Perdita - Chapter 1 (OhmToonz)

So nothing new today I’m afraid, but I’m going to try and work on a couple of things over the week and hopefully have something new out Thursday/Friday.

So technically this is the first BBS fic I ever wrote, the story is the same, but I’ve since rewritten it in my current writing style and actually plan on finishing it XD

Originally I was just going to edit the original version, but I think it works as a nice side by side comparison at how my work’s developed over the last 6 months, so find the original version here.

If this is something you guys like and want I’ll happily upload the rewritten chapters here, otherwise I’ll put them up on ao3 and just link the finished fic for those interested.

Just be warned for Violence and Death

[Ohm POV]

He stared down the scope of his sniper rifle, every fiber of his being wanting nothing more than to drop the gun and run away, but no matter how hard he tried to move, to even flinch his fingers, he couldn’t. He was nothing more than a spectator to his own body’s actions.

Since he’d been taken, he’d been forced to watch himself shoot and torture an endless amount of people, no matter how much his mind screamed at himself to stop, still his body followed through with the orders, all with the promise that one day his body will be his own again.

Today was that day, but after watching the ever-growing river of blood he’d been forced to spill, he wasn’t sure he wanted his body back, knowing he’d be unable to go back to any semblance of his old life when all was said and done.

He’d known his final target since that first day, the most threatening gang leader in Los Santos, and his husband.

Luke was in charge of a small but very powerful gang, one that despite all odds, still managed to rule over the city, with his new boss getting ever more frustrated with every passing day he heard about the BBS.

He fondly looked back on when he used to be one of their frontmen, when he and Luke would rule together, both complimenting each other in ways that meant the only option was success.

The fact that he’d been forcibly taken and watched as the BBS slowly became into disarray, losing territory they’d previously held for years whilst he was unable to go and help them was only another bullet in the wound.

In some of his darker moments, he’d remember back on some of his happier memories with his friends. Like the time they’d set up a huge Mario Kart tournament in the base and you could hear Anthony rage from down the street.

The time that he and Moo had made Christmas cookies for the group, resulting in them almost having to pull out their guns to stop the absolute carnage that ensued when the others found them.

How he trained with Smitty in hand to hand combat for days, supporting the younger man even as he kept getting discouraged by his seeming lack of progress, and celebrating when the other man finally managed to flip him onto the ground, shouting YEET in the process, whatever that meant.

When he spent long nights in the Infirmary, clinging onto the man he loved who he’d been told wouldn’t make it through the night, hoping he could heal him through soft touches and promises of love and how when Luke finally woke, the kiss they shared could make even the devil himself blush.

It was with that thought that he felt his arm cock and his body’s position change, bringing his awareness back to the horror show that was currently his life now.

He saw a black SUV pull up on the street across from him, forced to watch through the scope as he saw the driver get out to open the door for the man sat in the back.

Luke

He felt his heart miss a beat when he saw him, tears already threatening to form as he mentally screamed at the other man to leave, to get back in the car and turn back, to save himself.

As he watched Luke casually talk with the driver, the older man unknowing of his fate, he tried everything he could in an effort to move himself, to twitch his eye, knock his arm off course, anything that would mean the man in front of him would survive, but no matter how hard he tried, his body remained stoic and relaxed.

He knew his record, he’d never missed a shot, which is why he’d been targeted for this job in the first place, that, and because his boss was as sadistic as they come, getting far too much joy at the thought of him killing the person he loved most.

Still, he kept trying to move, but was helpless as he felt his finger tighten on the trigger until he heard Luke laughing, it was his favourite laugh, the one that was light and warm and could always chase away the cold on those nights when he could feel the darkness start to creep into his bones.

Luke, I love you. Forgive me.

He felt more than heard his gun being fired, feeling his tears already begin to fall as he saw Luke crumple in front of him, a streak of blood following him down the car as he collapsed onto the ground.

The sight made him want to scream about how unfair the world was, to jump off of the building or press the barrel of his own gun against his head so that he could join the fate of the man he loved, but as always, his body refused to do anything he wanted.

He’s thankful when his body wasted no time looking at the gruesome scene in front of him, instead turning to put his gun away in its case before standing up to walk through the roof door he’d propped open and make his way back down the building.

When he reached the ground floor he found his boss waiting there to meet him, a smile wide on his face whilst a hand grasped onto his shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze, no mistaking the joy on the other man.

What he wouldn’t give to be able to kill him right here and now, to wrap his hands tight around his throat and watch as the light left his eyes, or to keep him locked up for hours to do as pleased for hours on end to at least make up for the hell his life had become.

“You’ve done well, and as promised you get your freedom back,” He couldn’t help but sneer internally at the comment, plans already forming in his mind of the torture he planned to inflict on the other man “Maybe in the future we could work together again”

He couldn’t help but grimace at the offer, why on earth the other man would even think he’d willingly work with him again was beyond him, but a chilling thought ran through him that he’d be taken again and forced to do his bidding, that he wouldn’t ever truly be free again.

“Oh, and in case you’re thinking of going back to your precious gang again, I’ve let them keep your boytoy’s body, within the hour they’ll find your bullet at the back of his brain so I recommend you get a head start before they start hunting you down.”

The other man’s booming laugh echoed in the room and in the next moment he felt himself get knocked in the head, unable to do anything, he simply opened his arms to embrace the vast emptiness of unconsciousness.

#ohmtoonz #ohmwrecker #let me know what you think #even if you don't like it :D #violence tw #death tw #cartoonz

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moveslikebuckywrites · 5 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ellen Degeneres Additional Tags: Crack, Memes, I have no excuses, shenanigans with the "fuck shit up jacket", because of course it is, never thought I'd tag Ellen in a fic Summary:

What happens when a demon decides to use old memes from 2010 and his "fuck shit up jacket" to cause a ruckus in Soho?

This, apparently.

~~~

I have no excuses this is a crackfic that came about from a conversation in the Ineffable Outliers Discord with myself, @apple-duty, and @cassandrasummer xD

~~~

An undetermined Friday, post Armageddon. Mayfair, London

Anyone walking down the street in Mayfair that night would hear shouting. Or at least they would, but the walls of the flat knew better than to let any sound out without permission. If one were to look through the window, one would see an iPhone slam against a concrete wall1.

Crowley had been trying to get a hold of Aziraphale for well past two days, with no answer. He’d driven by the shop, but the angel had been out both times. He, of course, did not want to appear like he cared so scoping out the shop more than necessary was completely out of the question2.

He sat in his ostentatious throne seething; how dare Aziraphale avoid him like this. Two could play it this game, and he could play very demonically if he wanted to.

Crowley stood and went to the closet in his bedroom and pulled out two very specific items. A black jacket with reflective orange tape and a large, oddly shaped black case.

Yes, two could play at this game. And if the angel wanted to ignore him, he’d make that task impossible.

---

6:00 AM Saturday morning; the sidewalk outside of A.Z. Fell and Co. Soho, London

“C’mon, Linda, just pop on back to mine for a bit, yer mum ain’t gonna know!”

“Danny ya absolute toss, I’ll do no such thing!”

The young couple swayed through the near empty streets of Soho, drunk on wine and each other’s company.

“But Linda-“

“Don’t ‘But Linda’ me Danny Williams,” Linda says, pointing a shaky finger in his face with no real bite behind her words, “We ain’t been dating but a fortnight and you ain’t gettin’ me in the bed that easily!”

“But Linda, when I’m with you I can…I can…” Danny grasped for something, anything to say, “I can hear music!”

“Cheek!” she said but looped her arm back in his anyway and leaned against him as they started back down the street.

“Really can, ya know?” Danny said with more than a little bounce in his step, “Really snazzy saxophone music!”

“Danny,” Linda pointed towards a tall ginger man in a utilities uniform, “I think it’s that man in front of old Mr. Fell’s.”

Sure enough, as they got closer, the man was playing on a saxophone. At six am outside of a bookshop. This would seem to have no discernable reason, but the great thing about the human brain in the way She made it is that when there is no reason, that’s reason enough.

“Well I dunno why he’s doing it, but for a telephone worker he sure is great at those few bars of whatever that is.”

“Sounds familiar though, don’t it?” Linda said quizzically, “Wonder where I’ve heard it before?”

“Either way, it’s Soho on a weekend, he’s probably just a sloshed as we are.”

“Probably so, now walk me home you old buffoon.”

Danny and Linda strolled off arm in arm and the obvious utility worker kept playing on.

---

8:00 AM Saturday morning; the sidewalk outside of A.Z. Fell and Co. Soho, London

Bill Waters was a patient man. An upstanding member of the community. A lawyer. He dressed in smart suits and was never seen without his pork pie hat. He had an image.

They had scoffed when he’d opened his practice in Soho. They’d laughed. But now? Oh, now, he was one of the most respected litigators in London.

He prided himself on his work ethic, his attention to detail, and his meticulous methods. He prided himself on his patience with his clients, with his family, and with anyone who he met. The community loved him, his neighbors loved him, his family adored him.

Which is why several people milling around the early morning streets were shocked to see him jumping up and down and yelling at a street performer.

“Sir, I demand in the name of common decency that you stop this at once!” Bill shouted, face turning a rather embarrassing shade one could liken to a tomato plant, “It’s been two bloody hours!3”

If the man from the utilities paid any mind to him, he didn’t let it show. Just kept playing the same four bars over and over again.

“I will call your superiors! What are you even supposed to be doing?!”

The man just continued with his smooth beats and rhythmic dancing. Was it dancing? Could barely call it that in the first place. Like something out of a bad 1970’s instructional video.

Bill continued to yell; the man continued to ignore it.

This just wouldn’t do, Bill resolved to phone the utilities company at once. He threw his hat down in frustration and stormed back across the street to his offices.

---

10:00 AM Saturday morning; the sidewalk outside of A.Z. Fell and Co. Soho, London

“D’you think he lost some kind of bet?”

“Dunno…sounds familiar though, doesn’t it?”

“Ain’t this that shit from Eurovision like ten years ago? The saxophone guy?”

Nathan, Alice, and Jude were gathered around the strange man with the saxophone. They’d already tossed some money in his hat and were waiting for him to get around to taking requests. They were also by far not the only ones in the crowd.

“It is!” Alice said pulling up YouTube on her phone, “It’s the Epic Sax Guy music!”

“Christ that meme is older than dirt,” Jude said grimacing, “Why you reckon he’s doing this?”

“Maybe Mr. Fell pissed him off,” Nathan said, laughing, “He’s pissed off enough people around here with those weird hours.”

“Dad said he’s been at it since six this morning,” Alice (last name of Waters) said, “That’s four hours ago! That’s insane!”

“We oughta put it up somewhere, do a live stream or something. See how long he goes!”

“You know, Nathan, maybe we should,” Jude said, pulling out his cell phone, “Hell, I don’t have anywhere to be.”

The saxophone man played on.

---

11:00 AM Saturday morning; the news offices of the BBC

“Christ, William, it must be a slow day if this is what you’re giving me.” Margaret, producer for the BBC Weekend News said angrily into the phone receiver, “You really expect me to send reporters out to video a street performer in Soho? As if they aren’t a dime a dozen?”

She listened to the murmuring on the other end of the line, “Five hours? The whole time? And he’s dressed like what? A utilities worker? What do you mean Twitter?”

Margaret pulled out her phone and opened the app, clicking through to the trending page. Sure enough, there at number one: #UtilitySaxMan.

“Well, it is a slow day. Fine, send someone, just try to find me something real to put on the air by tonight, yes? I can’t just be putting Twitter fluff on the air!”

Margret slammed the phone back on the receiver and shook her head. What was the news world coming to these days? She blamed the millennials.

---

11:30 AM London time (3:30 AM California time). The Montecito home of Ellen DeGeneres

“I’m just saying we need this guy on the show. You know how much the audience loves an internet celebrity. Yes, that’s why I called you, because you’re in London.”

To the dismay of her wife who just wanted to sleep, Ellen was on the phone at 3:30 in the morning with one of the show’s associates in England. Once she got the idea to have someone on her show, there really wasn’t much anyone could do to stop her.

“So, no one knows who this guy is? He just showed up with a saxophone and started playing? Well that won’t stop us. Just go down there and talk to him when he stops playing. I just need him on my show, he’s trending like crazy, the memes are ridiculous!”

“I should probably go, but don’t let me down! This guy is insane, he should be a star!”

She hung up as Portia throws a pillow at her.

---

1:00 PM Saturday morning; the sidewalk outside of A.Z. Fell and Co. Soho, London

“Play Single Ladies!” A voice from the gathered crowd shouted.

“Shut up, he’s not taking requests!” Jude shouted back at them.

“What are you, his agent?”

“I might be after this is over, you don’t know that!” Jude hissed from behind his phone, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up.

The livestream was an immediate hit. He’s been inundated with new followers and reaction memes4. Even the BBC was here, along with several people in strange getups. He’d gotten three direct tweets from Ellen DeGeneres already, though he couldn’t answer. Not while the livestream was going.

This dude was insane. He never stopped; he was like a damn machine. Just kept playing and dancing (badly) and playing. He ignored everyone around him, ignored that his hat was now full past capacity of spare change and 1£ notes.

It was like he was on a mission, though what that mission could be was anyone’s guess.

“Young man, have you any idea who this fellow is?” one of the men, this one wearing a monocle, asked him.

“Nah, can’t say that I do,” said Jude, “I mean, he hangs out at Mr. Fell’s shop a lot, seems to know him. Dunno why he’s doing this though.”

“Did you hear that?” the man in the suit said to another, this one with a two-tone wig, “He knows the bookshop owner! That’s our in!”

---

3:00 PM Saturday morning; the sidewalk outside of A.Z. Fell and Co. Soho, London

“It is clearly a performance showing the prevalence of man over the subjugation of the corporate world! He celebrates his union job by playing this jubilant music!” said the man in the two-tone wig.

“I beg to differ; it is quite certainly a cry at the unjust conditions faced by workers!” said the man with a monocle.

These two had exactly three things in common: They were art critics, they were insufferable, and they had been arguing about this for the better part of two hours.

“How can you be so daft? The rawness and realness and power of this performance can only be described as euphoric!”

“Ah but you fail to take into account the monotony and the repetitive action! This man is in a prison of his own creation! A brilliant metaphor for the world under capitalism!”

The two men continued arguing and were approached by a man in a tan coat that was about one hundred and fifty years out of date.

“Pardon me, gentlemen,” the man said, “But could you possibly tell me what all of the commotion is outside of my bookshop?”

“Oh, my goodness, you must be Mr. Fell! And you haven’t heard?!” shouted the first critic, acting as though he might faint, “The art world is completely a buzz!”

“It would seem, my friend, that the next great performance artist of our times has taken up residence outside your bookshop! Please, please introduce us to him!”

Mr. Fell looked confused as he tore away from the art critics and through the crowd. Past the young man with the camera, past the BBC News van, and past some Americans speaking very loudly into their cell phones.

“Crowley, what on Earth are you doing?”

The saxophone music stops abruptly. All eyes turn and focus on Mr. Fell.

“Oh, hello Angel…” the saxophone man stammers, “Just..uh…”

Before anyone can say anything, Mr. Fell storms forward and grabs the saxophone man by the arm, ushering him into the bookshop, behind a sign that clearly says “CLOSED”.

The crowd disperses, first the news van, then the passerby, then the art critics and the Americans. Jude stands there for a moment wondering what just happened.

He soon forgets why he was there in the first place, and if Twitter held any clues for him, they’re long gone now. Later, he'd look in his book-bag and find it full of loose change and 1£ notes.

Just an ordinary Saturday in Soho.

---

3:15 PM Saturday afternoon; inside A.Z. Fell and Co. Soho, London

“Would you care to explain, dear,” Aziraphale says as he unpacks his leather satchel, “just why you’re playing saxophone on my front stoop? And the news vans? And the art critics. You know how much I hate art critics!”

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” Crowley says sulking on his favorite couch, “Got mad.”

“And did you conveniently forget dinner last week when I told you I’d be in Munich for a book auction for a few days?” Aziraphale shoots him a pointed look, “or were you just not listening in the first place?”

“Ngk.”

“I see,” the angel says, turning back to his books in a huff, “and how long were you out there?”

Crowley mumbled.

"Didn't quite catch that."

"I said ten hours," Crowley snapped, "Doing very demonic things, ruining everyone's weekend. Can take the demon out of hell but not hell out of the demon and all that." He crossed his arms over his chest and sulked lower into the couch than should be possible.

Aziraphale smiled to himself as he put away his new books, “Yes of course, my dear. Is that why you brought out the 'mess stuff up' jacket?Brightening everyone’s day with a bit of music, giving the BBC something to talk about? Such a demonic level of happiness out in the street today.”

“I-well-well,you-I-“ Crowley stammered, jumping up to stalk behind the angel to prove his point, “I made an old bloke with a pork pie hat have a fit, right in the middle of the street!”

Aziraphale sighed, Crowley was never quite as smooth as he pretended to be, and the angel saw right through him.

“My dear you are quite ridiculous, next time just come with me then you won’t feel the need for this nonsense.”

Crowley shoved his hands back in his pockets, trying to look aloof and failing, “I mean…I guess. Could use a vacation. Plenty of demonic wiles to get up to outside the country. Gotta keep you out of trouble...of course.”

Aziraphale smiled at him, clasping his hands together, “There we go then, problem solved!”

If the angel knew it was an excuse on the demon’s part to spend more time with him, he didn’t say. Nor did he mind in the slightest.

-----

1 – The iPhone, of course, knew better than to break. Just who’s apartment do you think we’re dealing with here, hmm?

2 – Least of all because he was scared of a certain angel picking up on a certain demon’s propensity to be what the kids referred to as a stage five clinger.

3 – In Bill Waters’ defense, he’d been late at the office the previous night working on a particularly challenging case. He’d been so exhausted, when the saxophone started up at around 6 am he’d thought himself hallucinating.

4 – Some choice memes that were shared on twitter:

#link #good omens #my fic #aziraphale #crowley #epic sax guy #special guest appearance of the 'fuck shit up jacket'#this is ridiculous y'all can blame the discord xD #sorry not sorry #I made memes for this #I went on meme generators and made MEMES for this

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lil-creatorwritings · 6 years ago

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Phone Call [Mitsuhide Akechi]

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Pairing: Mitsuhide Akechi x MC (Natsuki) Word Count: 1842 words--how many text messages would you need to send that? Warning: NSFW! As if that was a surprise? A/N: (gasp) My very first IkeSen fic that I uploaded! Someone brought up this AU on a Discord server, and welp, my brain stuck to the snek man instead of an IkeRev suitor. So here’s some snek smut that no one asked for! Also, Natsuki isn’t my OC, it’s actually @xathia-89 ‘s OC. xD Look, I don’t have OCs yet so don’t hunt me down. Addendum, modern AU because of phones, and a slight dom!Mitsuhide??? And if Mitsuhide is too OOC for you here, you can shut your piehole. I tried okay!

---

Mitsuhide knew who was calling even before he looked at the screen.

“Hello.”

“You told me you’d finish work early today so we can have dinner today.”

He laughed softly, switching to speaker mode as he resumed to pace around his desk, staying close enough for her to hear him. “Natsuki, I thought I already sent you a text explaining why.”

Being the head of accounting for Oda Industries was no easy job. The typical daily grind wasn’t this bad, but the absurd amount of workload was expected from the upcoming project that they intend to release in 4 months. The sudden announcement of their leading competitor of a similar product caught all of their attention, and he had expected this sort of complication would come sooner or later. Nobunaga Oda was one ambitious man--he valued Mitsuhide’s opinion and assessment on how to launch their project earlier than the competition without going into the red.

“I know, but I’m still upset at your boss. Making you all work into the night on a Friday.” He could imagine just how sulky she was just from the tone of her voice.

“Don’t pout, you know you look too adorable when you do.”

The short silence told him that she was indeed pouting, just as he expected. “Tease.” A clang of utensils could be heard over the line, followed by the solid click of the stove knob. “I was really looking forward to tonight.”

“I do miss your cooking.” He slipped his fingers on his tie, tugging on it to loosen the knot.

“Have you eaten?” Her voice was now full of concern. Working late nights like this wasn’t new to Mitsuhide, but knowing that someone was waiting back for him at the apartment made a staggering difference to what he felt. Natsuki knew that there would be days like this. Even for her, working with one of the most prestigious law firms was a taxing job. There had been days when it had been the opposite, with him fetching her from the building as late until a few minutes to midnight.

He glanced at the clock. 8:29PM. “I’m sure Masamune’s up to something in the pantry for the emergency meeting.”

“Do you know how long it’ll take?”

“Knowing Nobunaga, until tomorrow would be a good estimate.” That is, if he crunched the numbers right and predicted the competition’s next move. He sat down on his chair, leaning back to relax a little.

The rustle of fabric sounded like static to him, the sound of the evening television sitcom playing faintly in the background. “So, how are you going to make it up to me?”

Mitsuhide didn’t miss the teasing rise of her voice. It’s been a hectic week for the company, which meant they barely had time to spend with each other. Which also meant that neither of them were getting the appropriate amount of physical release they obviously craved.

“Mm, I’ll gladly pay you back once we’ve settled the problem.”

“But I can’t wait that long, I miss you too much.” The hint of neediness in her voice made him raise an eyebrow. Was she really going to use that card? “I miss your touch already.”

“Alright. How about we play a game to tide you over until then, my little mouse?”

“What kind of game?” Playing innocent just made him want to play, to tease her even more.

Switching off the loudspeaker, Mitsuhide picked up his phone. “A game where you follow my instructions over the phone.” It’s not the first time they’ve done this, but the thrill of hearing her come undone for him was always a delight. “And if you manage to finish until the end, you win.”

“What do I get for winning?”

“You’ll find out when I get home tomorrow.”

“And if I lose?”

“You’ll also find out tomorrow.” The little whine she gave him only made him smirk.

“Okay, I’ll play along with you.” He swore he could hear the word master at the end of that sentence.

On the other end, Natsuki knew she would be fidgety the moment she heard his voice. There’s just something about the way her name rolls off his tongue that lights a fire in her. It’s been days since they’ve last had each other, and she was getting frustrated. She knew that Mitsuhide was as well from the gruff tone of his voice.

“First, I want you to wear your earphones for me.”

She reached for them on the coffee table, securing the earbuds before speaking into the mic. “I’m wearing them.”

“Good. Now, I want you to tease yourself for me.”

Leaning back on the couch, Natsuki trailed her fingers along her thighs, making her body shiver. She slowly slipped them in her shirt, letting out a soft whimper as she cupped her breasts. “I know where your hands are. Give it a good squeeze and run your thumbs on your nipples.”

The sensation of her own hands made her cunt pulse. She remembered how Mitsuhide loved snaking his hand up her body, his warm hands on her, his palms rubbing her nipples until they hardened.

“Mmm, you’re perking up just like how I want you. I wish I could take both in my mouth, biting and licking them. Pinch them for me.”

Her fingers moved on their own accord, following his voice. Natsuki let out a sharp gasp. The chuckle that followed only licked at the heat pooling between her legs. “Ahh.. Mitsuhide..”

“You sound so delightful.” His voice was like chocolate, smooth and warm. “And I’m willing to bet that you’re absolutely soaked.”

She didn’t need to check; she already knew. Closing her eyes, it felt like he was right there, breathing against her ear. Tilting her head back, as if waiting for his teeth to run over her skin, leaving bite marks. Marking her.

“Spread your legs open for me.”

A groan. The soft fabric of the sofa did nothing to soothe her desire. “Mm, that’s a good little mouse. I can already smell you from here. I just want to go down and devour you right now.” The ravenous tone he used to punctuate his words only spiked her arousal higher.

“Fuck.. Yes please..” Natsuki moaned into the mic, making sure he could hear her. How she wished he was there between them, doing things to her with that wicked tongue of his. Her fingers would tangle in those silver locks, tugging him closer, wanting more. Needing him inside her.

“So wet and ready for me, aren’t you. You’re just begging for me to touch you.” She whined at him as a response. “Push your panties aside and touch your clit with light strokes.”

She tugged on her damp underwear, an index finger running along her slit. Her fingertip grazed the sensitive nub, rubbing it slowly with minimal pressure. Soft moans of pleasure escaped her lips, trying hard to follow his command. “M-Mitsuhide.. I want more..”

“I know you do.” He replied with complete confidence. “Press harder. I’m allowing you to slide your fingers in that wet cunt.”

Natsuki rubbed tighter circles as she easily pushed two fingers in her pussy. Her walls squeezed around them, and her mind imagined it was his fingers inside her.

His voice brought her back to her senses. “You feel so good around my fingers, tightening up like that. I haven’t moved them and yet you’re dripping down my hand. And I know you can slip a third one in.”

It didn’t take much effort; she was so wet that it slipped in smoothly.

“I want you to thrust those fingers fast and deep. But you can’t come unless I tell you to.” The words or else was heavily implied.

She obeyed him, his voice seemingly hypnotic to her. Her hips bucked against her hand as her moans grew louder, not caring if any of their neighbors heard. What she wanted was for him to listen, to hear just how much his words and voice affected her. Natsuki wanted to keep moaning for him, telling him how much she craved for his mouth and hands on her.

“Natsuki.”

“Ahh, fuck..!” She cried out, feeling her orgasm building up. Natsuki shut her eyes, focused on fighting the urge to give in.

Mitsuhide’s voice was tight. Restrained. “Such a good little girl for me. I know you can hold off a bit more as I grip your thighs apart, thrusting my cock into you. Filling you up and stretching you.”

“P-Please..!”

A pause. “My mouth will be all over your neck, biting you hard. Fingers playing and tugging on that clit as I fuck you. You feel amazing like this, so needy and hungry just for me.”

“Mitsuhide..! I can’t..” She was so close. “Please I want to cum..!”

“Cum for me, Natsuki.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, she sobbed his name into the empty room as her climax came hard. Pleasure wrecked through her body as Natsuki kept thrusting her fingers, her walls squeezing around them as she rode out her orgasm. Her moans softened as she slowly came down from her high, panting for air as her heart beat wildly in her chest.

“Well, that was quite a lovely show.”

Her cheeks were flushed as Natsuki tried to calm her breathing. “That was.. That felt so good..”

Mitsuhide laughed, the sound of the chair creaking as he got up. “You sound well fucked.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “I’d still prefer it if you were here.”

“I’ll certainly try by tonight, but I don’t promise anything.” He had that teasing tone back. “I do have to hang up for the meeting now.”

“What? But what about you?”

“Hearing you cum so beautifully is enough for me.” She heard the rustle of paper from his line. “The faster we find a solution also means we get to leave soon.”

“Mm, okay.” Natsuki made the effort to clean her fingers noisily, moaning quietly as she slipped them in her mouth.

“Tease.” He grinned over the phone. “I love you.”

She giggled, her voice giving him some determination to finish work instead of jumping to his car and speeding home. “I love you too.”

Mitsuhide hung up first, pocketing his phone before pushing the door to the conference room open. Everyone was already there, including Nobunaga.

“It’s not like you to be late.” Masamune eyed him curiously across the table.

“I had to make an important phone call.”

That earned him a long wolf whistle. “Sounded like an interesting conversation if it took you that long to take it.”

“Will you stop it? I’d like to get home within the day, if everyone doesn’t mind.” Ieyasu spoke up, running his hand through dishevelled hair.

Nobunaga stood at the head of the table, giving Mitsuhide a nod. “I don’t want to keep anyone here longer than necessary. And I suppose you’ve already come up with a plan of attack?”

He couldn’t help but smirk. Of course he had.

#ikemen sengoku #mitsuhide akechi #uhaw #oh look my first ikesen fic hahahaha

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fleetofshippyships-archive · 5 years ago

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Fanfic Author Meme

Tagged by @diligent-thunder and @rockmarina =)

Okay, so I’m me, and I talked way too much, so I’m putting this under a cut to save your dashes. You’re welcome 😘

Please do not reblog this post.

Author Name:

Fleetofshippyships + Knowyourincantations + Legendaryroar

Fandoms You Write For:

(in order of decreasing # of fics) Harry Potter, Voltron, Merlin, Yuri on Ice, Star Trek, Star Wars and then a few one-offs that aren’t really worth mentioning.

Where You Post:

AO3 primarily, Tumblr, trying to post more on Pillowfort, I also post on a couple of sites for knowyourincantations

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story:

RestraintNone of my old multi-chapter fics are available to read at this time and I don’t really write multi-chapter fics anymore.

If oneshot/drabble collections or two-shots count, then:

Fleetofshippyships: Vanilla and Sweet Spices (Drarry, Explicit, 2 chapters, 20k)

and this really doesn’t count, but technically it has multiple ‘chapters’ soooooooooo

Legendaryroar: Kinktober 2018 (Multiple ships (Voltron), Explicit (duh), 31 ‘chapters’, 26k)

Favourite Story You Wrote:

I don’t think I ever have a static favourite, I’ve just written too many things, I too quickly move on to the next (and frequently forget some of my own fics exist XD), but recently I re-read In Pursuit of Red Wine (Dreville, Teen, 29k) and really enjoyed that again, and I am really attached to it cos it was my first longish rarepair fic, kind of proving to myself that I can write longer rarepair stuff.

I also recently re-read Unburdened (Merthur (BBC Merlin), Explicit, 2k) and really enjoyed that too, had a total disconnect from having written it since it’s been so long, so I was able to read it without self-judging, and oh boy that was nice.

I’m also quite proud of Healing What’s Left (Parkgrass, Teen, 2k) for some reason, I dunno, maybe the dark political backdrop of the fic, or maybe just cos it’s the first time I’ve written Daphne as the main character and I’m happy with the result and now have some headcanons about her rather than her being an unknown blank character to me.

I also binge read a lot of my Voltron stuff recently and had big feels over that so....I also specifically enjoyed re-reading The Perks of Skincare (Klance (Voltron), Explicit, 3k) again cos I dunno, I like how I wrote Lance XD and also the Sheith fic I linked earlier is a fav for sure. Shiro/Rest is the ultimate OTP.

It really depends how soon after I write something or when I go back to re-read it as to what my fav is at any given time (or people commenting on it and hyping me up for it again).

Story You Were Nervous to Post:

Everything. But most recently I was terrified out of my mind before posting:

Friday Night by the Fire (Harry/Neville, Teen, 583 words) because I have a lot of fears about screwing up trying to write ace characters and somehow not even making that a focal point of the drabble made it even more terrifying, No More Waiting (TianShan (19 Days), Teen, 2k) because it was a new fandom to write in, Harry Potter and the Maudlin Merman series (Drarry, Teen+ Mature, 3k +6k) due to my feelings of inadequacy because it would be better as long fic but I struggle too much with writing these days to write long fics and can only manage short things. I’d rather write this as a long fic, but then I’d never finish it so connected oneshots are the best I can do right now, but I still feel it’s not good enough and have a meltdown whenever I post one. And speaking of which, I’ve been sitting on the next one for months and should probably just fucking post it already.

Actually, most recently: Minding One’s Limits (Cho/Ginny, G rated, 1.5k), because I gave Cho a disability modeled off my fibromyalgia and wrote a scenario similar to something I’d dealt with myself, it was incredibly uncomfortable to write in the first place, and then terrifying to post, even though it’s so short. But in the end I’m proud I finally wrote about it a bit? I dunno, might take me a while to work up the nerve again though XD (also was my first time writing that ship, so there was a lot of nervousness over that too)

Oh, and I was a super ball of anxiety posting Kinktober 2018 (Multiple ships, Explicit, 31 ‘chapters’, 26k) because for almost all of those it was the first time I was writing those kinks (and some were kind of squicks for me but I wanted to see if I could write them anyway cos I’m dumb like that) and in a lot of cases those ships were completely new for me to write too, in addition to trying to write and post 1 a day, so...yeah. Also that was my first time writing tentacle and human/werewolf smut so...yeah. I was an absolute mess that month and not in a fun way. But I’m still really glad I did it, it was fun =D

In summary, I’m always an anxious mess posting anything, but most especially if it’s something I’ve not written before or is personal to me XD

How Do You Choose Your Titles:

Most of the time I’m staring down the empty title field in AO3 cursing like a fucking sailor when I choose titles XD Sometimes it’s a line/theme/feeling from the fic. Sometimes it’s totally random and just comes to me. Sometimes I just grasp the first thing that I can no matter how stupid it sounds cos it’s been three days and I still don’t have a title and I’m over it and ready to post before I lose my nerve.

And tbh, it’s only getting harder to think of titles as my number of fics increases, and I’ve now started thinking of the perfect titles only to realise I already have a published fic by that title so....TITLES CAN DIE A FIERY DEATH

Sometimes, not so much anymore, it would turn out that I would give a wip doc a name just so I’d know what it was, sometimes as a joke with whoever was reading it and cheerleading while I wrote it, and then I would refer to it by that and think of it as that so much that when it came time to actually give the fic a title, it was too late and I could not think past that stupid file name, and that’s how Potter’s Insatiable Cock happened, and how I very nearly called a Merthur fic Arthur’s Wanking Tower (saved that one at the last moment thank god cos the tone of that fic is actually really serious and emotional and wtf was I even thinking with that file name and actually I linked to that fic above XD it ended up being called Unburdened).

Potter’s Insatiable Cock slipped through cos it’s actually relevant to the fic content and I could live with it.

But needless to say, I don’t give my wip docs joke names anymore XD

Do You Outline:

Only if I never want to actually write the idea...once I outline, it’s over. I can’t write to a detailed plan. It stifles me. I’ll always get stuck having to try and think ahead to the plan, and then I lose the flow and nothing works because I’m a pantser/intuitive/instinctive writer not a planner. Sometimes I jot down ideas but in like, the vaguest of ways, usually more focused on emotional development than actual scenes or events or anything because then I won’t be able to write it (and I rarely stick to those vague ideas anyway).

I can really only write when I’m staring down a blank doc with no idea where it’s going and discover it as I go (which is why writing is so fun for me). I can only finish a fic if I don’t think too hard about what’s going to happen next and just let it happen as I write.

This of course means that editing is a fucking bitch when I finish anything, beginnings often get totally re-written, but if I plan, it just doesn't happen at all, so I’ll take the extra editing if it means I manage to write something.

I do have a lot of detailed plotty fic idea outlines...and I mourn them cos I’m never going to write them now, but they’re so goooooooooood XD

Complete:

Online (across all 3 accounts): 381 (incl. my hidden drarry fics as they are technically online just hidden, not incl. individual oneshots/drabbles in collection ‘fics’, of which there are ridiculously many). Offline: 20 (I have the worst habit of just sitting on completed fics and I really need to stop)

In-Progress:

Too many to name, last time I counted it was ~60 but that wasn’t even including my vld wips so...I don’t actually know. I hoard wips and just switch up what I work on all the time depending on mood/interest levels/effort required.

Current main focuses are a 50k+ plotty Drarry (*fingerscrossed* cos this is my first time seriously attempting something long (will probably reach 80k at least) in a very long time and I put it down for a few months and thought that was it but then I picked it up again recently, yay!), and re-writing some hidden fics I can’t put them back up in the quality they’re in, I just can’t guys, they’re awful.

I’ve been thinking a lot about working on the longish 8th year Pansmione fic I started for the wlw big bang before I had to pull out of cos stupid life stuff. I might pick that up again for a bit too, couldn’t be more different from the Drarry one so it’d make a nice focus break =)

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started:

I don’t even plan fics I’m writing, I sure don’t plan ahead to stuff I haven’t even started XD The only think I can think of for this category would be me re-writing my hidden long Drarry fics.

Oh, and there will be a Merthur oneshot coming (hopefully) soon, because @april-thelightfury115 won my custom fic giveaway with a merthur idea. Just waiting for my brain to cooperate so I can start that and not suck XD but I’m so fucking excited to write some Merthur again, you have no idea.

Oh, and lots more Sapphic September drabbles coming too, I’m way behind and only just posted day 11 cos this month is literal hell for me, but I am still planning on finishing the prompt list, no matter how long it takes, but no plan for those, not even which ships, I just sit down with the next prompt and a blank doc and see what happens.

Do You Accept Prompts:

Yes, I love writing to prompts, I’m take them via google form here, but I’m in such a bad space with my health I’ve been really struggling with writing lately, managed to do a bit of editing (fuck knows how), but writing new stuff is so hard, so there’s a long wait while I wait for my fibro fog to ease off to the point I can write new stuff with more regularity (and less stupid errors I have to edit out later).

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write:

Again, I so don’t plan. But I really want to be making more progress on the long plotty drarry wip I’m trying to write. I’m still not sure I’ll have the guts to post it even if I do finish it, given its subject matter (it would make a great careers or consent fest fic tbh), but damn I’m really excited by it. Not sure I can maintain it being plotty and not revert to focusing on the relationship (which is easier for me), but I can only try and see what happens. (trying to write a non-relationship plot without planning is a nightmare but I don’t have a choice if I want to write it at all XD)

I’m also now excited for my longish pansmione wip too actually, just because it’s already longer than my Dreville long-ish fic and it’s exciting and scary to do longer rarepair stuff. I’m way out of my comfort zone with the fic itself, but I dunno, I re-read some recently and fell in love with it all over again, like, flustered lesbian-awakening, disaster for Pansy (but sure she still hates her) Hermione? YES PLEASE! and also, I am guilty of not writing female characters as much as I should because, well, canonically, they don’t have much depth and I’m very meh about them, but in this there’s a huge focus on them because they’re all determined to band together for 8th year and Hermione is making friends with them (Parvati is like, dragging her along all the time XD) where she once dismissed them so it’s scary but exciting =D I’m getting more practice with all the sapphic I do over on knowyourincantations, so I feel more confident working on this wip now =D

I’m also kind of excited about re-writing my old long fics, because they’re all 3 years old now, and my writing tastes (and skill, yikes) have totally changed, so it’s like I’m writing the story again but how I would write it now while maintaining the overall same plot, so it’s really interesting, like discovering the story all over again. Like in one (Making Malfoy Blush) I’ve gone as far as introducing a new side character to replace another’s parts because I no longer feel those parts are in character for them. It’s super terrifying, but it’s fun at the same time =) it’ll take me forever to do these though, so I dunno about ‘upcoming’ really, I only chip away every now and then when I’m unable to write new stuff but am still coherent enough to do something.

Eh, it is what it is, I can’t write like I used to, hence me being inactive more than active these days, but I’m trying to work within my new limitations instead of getting frustrated with them and just giving up entirely =)

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Now, who to tag....I think anyone I would tag has already done it, and if not..I blame the fog if I’m forgetting someone obvious, if you wanna do it just say I tagged you so I can be nosy and take a look =)

Again, please do not reblog this post

#*#tag meme #tag game #about me #hope i don't regret linking to my other ao3 accounts #but i'm at the point if I get more bullshit like before i'll just abandon fandom entirely rather than shift to one of my other accounts #they served that purpose well when I needed it but the reasons for having to do it are not a problem anymore #so i'm tentatively linking to them for anyone who wants to read my other works #and hoping no one is mean about it #and please don't reblog this post in case I have to delete it to cut the link

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sweetcatmintea · 5 years ago

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Imitation

Flash Fiction Friday! (Well, flash fiction 4:15am Saturday but you get the gist.) There was no prompt this week so I decided to jump headfirst into a vague idea I had XD The execution is a little clumsy but I hope you enjoy none the less! (I might revisit it when I have developed my skills more) This one is supposed to be creepy :3 Feedback is appreciated!

Words: 2952

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Amber’s head hurt. Noises swan in rings, spiking and convulsing behind her eyes. Thin, stiff sheets covered her dead arms, scratching along her body with each stinging breath. Hospital sheets. What? She pushed her hands to move. There was a disconnect. Her body lagging sluggishly behind her conscious control. Cold metal brushed her knuckles. A cot? Was she in hospital? She didn’t remember having an appointment. She didn’t remember sleeping either. There was, nothing. Not amnesia nothing. She knew who she was. Right? Yes. She was Amber Welsh. She lived with her par- wait, no. She moved out. She lived alone. What was she doing before the nothing? She was… She was on her weekend. Saturday? She didn’t work on Saturday. She was on her weekend and was taking Roo for a walk. She always walked Roo on Saturday. Roo was her dog. A big Newfoundland. He was almost as big as her. Intimidating. She could walk alone with him. Where was Roo now? Did they finish the walk? She could remember starting it, kind of. But it’s blurry. Routine mashed each Saturday together. Was she hit by a car? Or, mugged? Is that why she was here? Where was Roo? Was he waiting for her at home?

Her eyes were heavy. Not the heavy of an all-nighter. Heavy like they’d never open again. God, her head hurt. Her ears were ringing. A shrill tone all around her, dulled occasionally by intermittent thunder claps. Her body was too numb. Was she injured? She couldn’t tell. Were her parents on the way? The hospital knew her well enough to call them. Her face felt injured. Not by pain, but a gut feeling. Her brain knew, even if she didn’t. She didn’t know how it knew but she didn’t doubt it. Her bones ached distantly. It wasn’t until she heard metal sliding against the cot frame that she realised she couldn’t move her arms. What the? Slowly, laboriously, she peeled her eye lids open. Nausea rolled with the action. Oh god. Greyish black smeared cloud-like over her eyes. She blinked the grey away until only darkness was left. Her eyes were dry. And crusty? Maybe? She raised her hand to wipe the sleep residue away only to have it jerked to a stop. Straining against the blur, she eventually made out the glint of handcuffs. Her heart jumped, awkward and shuddering. Her vision swirled as her pulse raised. It was drugs. It had to be. Why else would she be waking… like this? Somebody drugged her? But why? Unable to lift her head, she scanned the room. It was swaying? No. That was the drugs. Her vision was wavering, doubling, snapping back to clarity for a torturous heartbeat before mercifully blurring once more.

There was a cot. A cot she was cuffed to. Then a tube, connected to a bag. Above her. Oh, An IV. Tiles on the floor. A candle flickering by the door. It seared her eyes. Too bright. Nothing else. A small, sparse room. A hospital room? With no windows. Much like a basement could never perfectly mimic a bedroom, this place was faux. If she’d been injured, she would be in the closest hospital. She knew what it was like in there. She knew what it was like in almost all of the local medical facilities thanks to a particularly bad break last year. This was not one of them. She was not in a hospital. Her brain was languid but it reached the logical conclusion. She was not safe. Panic spasmed through her. More instinct than anything, she pulled frantically at the bindings. Writing and squirming, the cuffs slid around her sweat slicked skin, refusing to release her. She almost screeched when it jumped over her thumb, peeling off a sheet of skin in compensation. She was out. Dumb luck. Pure dumb luck of hyper-flexibility set her free.

Amber hauled herself up. Legs sprawled in front of her. She couldn’t feel them either. As though she’d fallen asleep awkwardly, all she could sense was pressure. For that, she was grateful. It made pulling the IV from under her skin painless. Her stomach flipped and her hands shook, but she was unrestrained. It was hard to keep her head straight. It was almost like she was wearing a motorcycle helmet. The slightest movements sent her teetering to the side. Where had her balance gone? There was something wrapped around her face. Bandages? Dulled fingertips traced the fabric grain. Though her fingers could feel her, her swollen, paper mâché skin couldn’t feel them. She had to get out of here. Praying her body would wake up, she swung her legs over the cot. Where was the floor? With only her faulty vision to guide her, she staggered up. Pressure told her she was dragging her bare foot, not lifting it. Her movements became mechanical. Lift. Step. Lift. Step. She had to get out. Stumbling to the door, she steadied herself. She turned the handle painfully slowly. She couldn’t make a noise. They might come back. The storm roared on, dominating the quiet click.

More darkness. No movement. No nurses. No patients. No visitors. She didn’t want more proof. She’d never wanted so badly to be wrong before. Half sliding, half shuffling, she pushed her body to move into the corridor. The weather must have knocked the power out. There wasn’t even the familiar buzz of electricity in waiting. Would she be able to hear it though? Over the drug’s ring? It was hard to say.

As she crept along the darkness, her body gradually returned to life. Pins and needles attacked her muscles and her knees threatened to give out. She couldn’t stop shaking. It was cold too. Cold tiles. Cold air. Nothing but a paper gown to cover her. What had they done with her clothes? Did they have her phone? She hadn’t backed up her photos…

Candle glow spotted the corridor, creeping under cracks in doors. Still no windows. Was she underground? That meant out was up, right? A hundred scenarios ran through her fear addled mind. She got out so easily, what if they’re waiting for her at the exit? Like it’s some perversion of a test? Would they kill her? Drug her again? She didn’t even know if she still had her kidneys, too afraid to check. She’d notice that, right? Wouldn’t they have left her in an ice bath or something if they were organ snatchers? The front of her gown was sticky with warm, then cool. Was she bleeding? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t want to touch anything. The risk of infection was too great. She couldn’t smell blood, but she couldn’t smell much of anything under all of the bandages.

Footsteps clattered down stairs. Someone was there. Multiple someones. Oh god. Don’t let them see her. First handle in reach, she lurched into the room. No candle. No light. No noise. Empty. Thank god.

Click clack click clack.

Footsteps getting closer.

She slid down the wall, huddling into herself. Oh god oh god ohgodohgosohgod. Please. Please let them pass.

Click clack click.

Closer.

She held her breath. Tears burned, bitten back. Heart stopped. She waited.

They were right outside the door.

Oh no. Please.

They continued.

Click clack.

Going.

Click clack.

Going.

Click clack.

Gone.

She shuddered, choking on silent sobs. She had to get out. Her body wouldn’t move. She couldn’t leave. What if they saw her? If she just stayed put, she wouldn’t risk running into anyone. They were going to catch her if she stayed. She’d be a sitting duck. Come on, move! She wasn’t dying here. Amber crept out of the room. Slowly. Carefully. Quietly. She couldn’t see them in the dark but that meant they couldn’t see her either. She had the advantage of silence. She would get out.

Every movement, she froze. Every sound, she hid. Amber padded as quickly as her lagged body could move, inching through the building. She found the stairs. All she needed was a window. It’d be on the next floor. Surely. Basement, then ground level, right? One step at a time, she felt her way upwards. She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, let alone the stairs. Not even the smear of the bandages lumped under her eyes. She reached the turning platform. Halfway there.

“What do you mean the thing’s fried?”

A voice. A voice in front of her. She couldn’t get down. Not in time. Panic fuelled stupidity, Amber froze. Back pressed into the wall hard enough to leave brick indentations.

“kxxxxrt What I said. The whole thing. Might as well have been struck by lightning.” A walkie talkie. He was practically on top of her, muttering curses to himself. Amber was sure he could hear her heart pound. He paused. His warmth tingled her cold skin. Please.

He swung around.

“Okay. Sure. I’ll see if I can rig something up in the meantime.”

And left.

Amber couldn’t take much more of this. If her heart didn’t give out, her legs would.

There were no windows on the next level. Just another long, winding corridor and more candles. She wanted to blow them out. Reduce the space to darkness again. But they’d notice. She had to keep her head. Just keep going up.

Hiding. Moving. Hiding. Moving. The hazy repetition made her want to throw up.

More voices. Hiding again. Praying the candle wouldn’t betray her shadow to them. Her skin itched. The face she couldn’t feel. It was starting to wake as well. Bandages were course against her dry skin. Vaguely, she thought of heat stroke. It was similar. Burnt skin that begged to be scratched and picked at. Head too light and too heavy. Stinging and pulling at every twitch. Wind rattled through the building while glass grinded against concrete in her ears. Was this what dying felt like? A powerful dizzy spell sent her to her hands and knees. All of her will power was occupied with keeping her stomach from spraying its contents everywhere. Numbness was better. She looked around, trying to find something, anything, to ground her under the candle’s wavering light. At the end of the room, there was something to focus on. A cage. This, she had seen before. Other rooms she’d ducked into were similarly furnished. Some with cots. Some with desks. Unlike the others, this one had something in it. Morbid curiosity spurred her to creep closer. The black mass barely moved, save for a steady rise and fall of its body. It couldn’t be. She held the candle closer. A familiar collar looped the bars. Roo. Why was Roo here? He was curled, turned mostly away from her. Why was he wearing a Victorian collar? What had they done to him? She tried to whisper his name. Slurred crackles died in her throat. Her mouth wouldn’t form the letters. Wake up Roo. She reached blindly into the cage to cup his muzzle. That usually did it. Her fingers found his ears, trailing down bandages. Had they hurt him? Her hand brushed something it shouldn’t have. Clammy, tacky, skin. She ripped her hand away. Oh god, what have they done? The candle shook in her grip as she unlatched the cage, sliding the door open. She held it to Roo. He rolled his head towards her. Oh dear god. Roo wasn’t looking back at her. His eyes were, sliding and unfocussed, but the rest wasn’t him. A patchwork of bandages weren’t enough to cover the pale, freckled, skin pulled tight over a rough amalgamation of a skull. The top jaw too short for Roo’s face, sitting limply over his protruding underbite. Jesus, no. Purple slashed and stapled tongue just visible under the blunted incisions. This was so wrong. The nose was wrong. A cute button nose that was too loose and too open and too human to pretend to be his. Black fur tufted the outskirts of the bandages, tangling with metal pins and, vanishing within the bandage perimeter.

It was an awful thing to stare into the eyes of your dog only to have a poor imitation of your face staring back.

Roo growled. Too drugged to do more than twitch, he snarled quietly at the stranger. Amber put her shaking hand against her own face. She didn’t want to know. She had to know. Still itching numbness, she passed over the metallic lumps lining her skull, exploring the mass under her eyes. She’d thought it was swelling. She’d hoped it was swelling. They’d been much more liberal with her bandaging than Roo’s. The entirety of her muzzle was wrapped. Only dampness hinted at what lay at end. Please, no. She trailed down. Down to the lips. Soft and stretchy. And the teeth. Long, sharp, dripping. Hanging over her far too short lower jaw. Oh god. Down further to the lump of wet flesh lolling to the side. Her tongue. Her too long tongue. What did they do to her? Tears and vomit rolled inside her. She didn’t even know if she could barf. Christ. What was she going to do? She had to get them out. Both of them. Like hell she was leaving Roo. He didn’t recognise her but that was okay. She could deal. She’d been through worse, right? Right? He was too drugged up to bite her. Too drugged to move. Oh god oh god oh god. She could lift him. She had to remember that. She liked to boast that she could carry the massive dog before. Now was certainly the time to prove it. When they get out, then what? Was the damage fixable? How was she going to afford the fees? Godgodgodgodgod. What if the vet decided on euthanasia? That wasn’t going to fly. She was going to fix this. They’d probably want her on a talk show or something. Then everyone would know what happened to her. She’d have to relive tonight over and over and over. She didn’t want to be a spectacle. It didn’t matter now! She had to get out. She had to MOV-

Click clack. Click clack.

Amber snuffed the candle. A reflex. She ground the wick into the tiles. Please let the smell go. The steps stopped at her door. Nonononono! Amber closed the cage and flung herself back, as far back as she could go. Why now? She’d gotten so far. The door clicked open. A shape peered inside. A woman illuminated by another candle. Someone stood behind her. Amber was trapped. There was no escape. Jesus Christ PLEASE. The woman hummed.

“I thought I had a candle in here?”

“Maybe.” The other voice didn’t sound particularly interested. “Someone probably took it. You know Jerry is the biggest baby in the dark. It was probably him.”

The woman sighed. “Probably. Jerry’s always bending rules. Can’t he just grow up? (Or be fed to the pigs?) Whatever. I’d better light a new one.”

“The box is upstairs.”

“Really? Ugh. Let’s go. Sooner we do this, the sooner we can eat.”

No way.

As quickly as they appeared, they were gone. But they were coming back. Amber didn’t have time to breath or cry or process anything. They had to move. Now. She stumbled to the cage, gathering Roo in her arms. Come on come on come on. She heaved backwards, his dead weight almost toppling her over. An ear to the door, she had to be certain no one was there. Coast clear. Amber hauled Roo down the corridor, praying the entire way. Praying that no one came out. That the lights stayed off. That Roo stayed silent. As far as she could tell, no one knew she was missing yet. Good.

Her arms were rubber when they reached the stairs. Please let this be the way out. There was no way she could have carried Roo up without his body thunking against the steps. They had to slow down. Her face itched. She sat on the stairs, the bulk of Roo in her lap. One step at a time, she shuffled backwards. More than once, her foot slipped, almost sending them both tumbling down. Almost there. Roo sagged limply against her, just the rise and fall to prove he was alive. Please, let them get out.

She paused as light leaked above them. Listening carefully.

Nothing.

Nothing yet.

Go quickly! They reached the top step. There was no time to breath. This hall was filled with candles. Amber’s darkness was extinguished. Twin shadows stretched around the corner, dancing in the flickers. OH GOD. No time for gentleness, Amber grabbed whatever she could reach of Roo, bolting into the closest room.

A window.

A WINDOW.

Amber was at it in seconds. Tears drenched her bandages when it slid open. No noise or locks or catches! They were getting out. It was a tight squeeze. She shoved Roo through the gap butt first, apologising silently at the thud.

The door clicked.

She threw herself into the night. The fall jarred her body, knocking the air out of her lungs. At least she managed not to land on Roo.

“God damn it! Who left the window open!?”

Grabbing Roo, Amber rolled back against the building. More footsteps. A man looked out. Lightning deepening his scowl. Don’t look down. He stood over them, glaring at the clouds for all the trouble they caused him. She could do nothing but look on in horror, begging for one more miracle. He slammed the window shut, disappearing from Amber’s view. She didn’t waste time. Scooping Roo up, she bolted, awkward and stumbling, into the storm.

They were going home.

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Tag list

@inkovert, @snobbysnekboi, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

#Flash Fiction Friday #creepy story #horror #animal cruelty #animal abuse #medical #ask to tag #writing #writblr #short story #original story #CatMint is still trying to write scary stories even tho my genre is urban fantasy

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karasunocurry · 6 years ago

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Atsukashiyama Ibun Paris report

So I’m home and I feel like I’m in a post-convention depression more that I’ve felt after recent cons xD I was kind of sad that I wasn’t at Japan Expo Paris, I didn’t actually know beforehand they’d be there ^^; and I couldn’t take days off or afford to go either way, but I’d been looking forward to the musical for an entire week (including losing sleep over it, oops). I went to Paris on Friday and met up with Edo and did some shopping for items we needed (or didn’t need but I have a backscratcher that acts as extendable Ishikirimaru prop now xD). Later met up with Mai & Katy and then had a late but well-deserved dinner at a Japanese restaurant.

Saturday I attended the fanmeet near the Louvre. It was warm and we tried to stay in the shade of the trees. Some people came in cosplay (brave! but not smart xD) and it was fun to see all the itabags gathering. I didn’t talk to that many people but it was great meeting @sohmariku and talking about Japan and subbing. There was a lot of things going on in terms of ‘what we can do for the boys’, like signing a flag, writing short messages for Kitazono Ryo and even recording video messages (which I fucked up- and once I make a mistake I’m done for xD). Took a break early in the evening because I was tired and started getting a really bad headache, but met up with a group of people for dinner, and then went to bed. For some reason, woke up way too early every day but *shrug* it must be a jiji thing.

Sunday- performance day

Aaand then it was Sunday. I’d also decided to write letters on a whim but I only ended up writing two (for Sakiyama & Ryuji) and a get well soon card for Ryo. I went to the venue around 10, to meet up with Edo and Katy again and check how everything would be organized. It appeared that goods would only be sold 45 minutes before the show. Uhm. I didn’t think too much of it at that point, but luckily Edo was very much set on getting in early for merch, so I was also pretty much in front of the line of one of the entrances. Good thing too, because the goods stand was too small and too slow to allow many people to actually get their stuff. I managed to buy bromides, the pamphlet and a penlight - decided against the DVD bc I can get it cheaper online - and after I went to the toilet, they already announced that not many more people would be able to buy goods. I went in and took my seat and was later joined by Senta, who’d never watched the musical before so it was fun to afterwards hear what she thought of it and explain some more about the connection between the swords and their former masters. I wasn’t very much at the front but had a good view on the entire stage. At first the full cast and the producer (and writer?) took the stage to explain the Kitazono Ryo’s medical condition - he’d been diagnosed with retinal detachment and was advised not to act on stage, but he could do his lines and vocals. They then called him on stage, and you could tell by his posture and face that this was a very difficult thing to do. Ryo cried through his words and could hardly speak, it was so very sad to see him like this, apologizing for not being able to be on stage. He got a big round of applause and took a spot behind the audience from where he’d act out his lines. [spoilers ahead]

The musical started off differently, with Mikazuki doing a dance - immediately making the link to Tsuwamonodomo stronger - while the ‘human’ story played out behind him. They also added that smithing song between Mikazuki and Kogitsunemaru. There were some obvious changes to the musical, but mostly subltle changes in conversations and little things added here and there. The overall flow of the story remains the same, of course, but the musical has evolved through time and you can tell that there’s improvement in all aspects (although it was always great haha). The presence of Kogi on stage was not a big problem for the course of the story, since his interaction is mostly limited to speaking to others, aside from the song he shared with Mikazuki and ofc in the group scenes, there is an empty spot, but even so his character was there. It was still sad to see everyone looking at that empty spot, but I’m just glad that at least he was allowed to and able to perform by speaking.

I love the scenes with Benkei and Iwatooshi - let’s be honest, Iwatooshi is the new guy at the citadel in this piece and he’s so fucking strong, bless him. Just like his former master, he’s a good man with a strong sense of duty and good intuition. And his doubt and resolve are played out very well. Araki Kentaro is also great as Yoshitsune, in every performance he’s been able to express the duality between human Yoshitsune and possessed Yoshitsune very well.

I also think everyone grew in their respective characters and the singing was also better than before. Everyone’s performance was outstanding. Mikazuki’s elegance, Iwatooshi’s strength, Ishikirimaru’s protectiveness, Kashuu’s vigor, Imanotsurugi’s enery and Kogi’s empathy, it was all there. I just love how these characters influence each other. At the end, the fighting got more intense than it was before, adding some dramatic despair that I don’t think I felt before during that scene, and I don’t think anyone would ever complain about Daichi’s bare back :) The Idol Live part was all new!! Surprisingly, I wasn’t expecting that and as people later pointed out, it was nowhere hinted at either - no idol outfit bromides for us yet, but I’d love to get those!.I love the new outfits, they were very nicely coordinated, the original character colours were used very well, and the jackets with connecting lines look so fabulous <3 The songs were also very good! Very upbeat and catchy and boi the dance moves!! I was really impressed and as Ishikirimaru fan I’ve been eyeing Sakiyama most of the time - hard to ignore his tight pants and smooth moves xD I have a vague feeling they also gave him more center stage time? His popularity has climbed since the first Atsukashiyama run so I guess they might take that into consideration? It made me happy to see that they looked like they were having a lot of fun, despite everything, that they were giving their all in a foreign country, and by the amount of pen lights and different colours, everyone had fans and I hope they felt our love~

They also kept up with the misogi tradition where someone has to say a line in repsonse to a given situation. Mikazuki got picked and instead of giving us a line, he had to flash his back, this kinky mofo. Mario ma boy you know what you’re about don’t you. <3 At the end they all presented themselves in French (v cute baww), aaand it ended with otokomichi as usual but that entire song/act is just A+++, it’s such a motivating song. Everyone looked happy. They got a lot of applause, a standing ovation WELL DESERVED and in the end, all pen lights turned yellow to wave at Ryo as he left his spot. I hope he got some strenth and courage from it, and felt less burdened. I went out... Edo and Katy went to the evening performance too. I was thinking of just hanging around or maybe going to the hotel but - France had just won the world cup and Paris had exploded into a chaotic soccer mess that I wanted no part of - so I bought a rank 2 ticket and went in again. (yolo is a thing, this might well be the only time to ever see a toumyu live) Things about seeing it twice: - Ryozono had regained his composure. I think that the successful afternoon performance and the fan’s reactions had made him feel at least less worried. He apologized this time with a strong and confident voice. Bless him. - There was a scene where Ishi wanted to draw Kashuu’s portrait (ref to Mihotose), but he forgot his pen xD He glossed it over real smooth. GJ Sakiyama <3 - It was misogi time for Ishikirimaru!! I may have screamed. I wish I’d remembered exactly what he said but it was about hugging, I think my brain just melted hence the bad memory. ^^;;;

- For the idol performance we took different seats at the side to see the actors from closer by.<3 - Sadly there were a lot of empty seats for the evening performance. It would’ve been hard to get home when the musical was over so I understand but I also think they should have done a better job at promoting the entire event. It’s alway been hard to get information, most of it had been translated by fans from the official Japanese site. People came from all over Europe and more people would come if you’d done proper promotion beforehand. Uhm... I think that’s it. It was great. I had an amazing time with the people I was with and talked to and I wish I’d been there today as well to talk about it even more but HMU ok.

Can I just say I’m into hell even deeper now? That I fucking love Tsubasa? But also Daichi? But also Mario? Actually EVERYONE??? I’m really really really happy I decided to go, best decision, kill me now (but I’m already dead), I haven’t been able to think of anything else and I’m definitely not ready to go to work tomorrow. I hope this does still open doors to more (tourabu) musicals and/or stage plays to come to Europe. It’s very niche but it’s still a growing fandom. I’m more motivated again to do some subbing to spread the love for the stages/musicals that I like and hope people will join us in this hell and start supporting the boys and their work.

more random stuff on twitter

#musical touken ranbu in paris #atsukashiyama ibun paris #toumyu paris #toumyu atsukashiyama ibun #report #musical touken ranbu #toumyu

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ellawritesficssometimes · 7 years ago

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Ouija Board Mishaps (Day 6 Week of Hetalia, One-shot

A/N: I wrote this when I was sick and took too much NyQuil xD

Stay tuned for tomorrow. I’ll have a more romantic fic planned.

@weekofhetalia

Arthur’s POV:

It was a late Friday night, and against my will, my friends had invited themselves over, as per usual. Correction, I invited my younger neighbors Matthew and Alfred over, otherwise known as the twins, while the frog (Francis) came on his own free will, but certainly not mine. Francis was a senior in high school like myself, whereas the twins were both juniors.

Since October was the peak of anything paranormal, I decided to put an end to the mystery surrounding the hauntings occurring in my home. My family has a history of having the Sight, which means we’re able to communicate with spirits. However, the spirit haunting my family refused to show itself, – or should I say herself? – so we were forced to put up with its shenanigans. I grew up with these hauntings, whether it being misplaced socks, random knocks on the walls, or footsteps in rooms where no one alive was in.

But not anymore. I wouldn’t put up with it for any longer.

Impulsive, young, and stubborn as I’ve always been, I bought a Ouija board from Toys’ R US the other day, thinking I would finally be able to make contact with this spirit and get rid of it. Alistair, my older brother and guardian, was gone for the weekend, so this would have been the perfect opportunity for me to prove my worth as a spiritual communicator.

My god, words cannot explain how badly I fucked up.

Regardless, I didn’t know that at the time. My pride often got in the way of me thinking rationally.

Anyway, the four of us were sitting in the basement’s lounge, decked in comfortable sweatshirts and sweatpants.

Even Francis was wearing a white hoodie that obnoxiously read “I love Paris” on the front of it. He was wearing silk pajama pants though, so I suppose his fashion sense still carried with him wherever he went. Unfortunately, fashion sense didn’t necessarily equate to class.

Francis, seemingly out of nowhere, had procured an entire bottle of wine, taking swigs of it as he draped his hairy arms over the loveseat like he owned it. Alfred and Matthew were sharing the two-person couch, each fiddling with a 3DS in their hands.

Meanwhile, I was sitting cross-legged on the ground, setting up the Ouija board and lighting several candles.

“You still plan to go through with this?” Francis asked me, slurring slightly.

I reached out to confiscate the bottle of wine from him. “All right, you’ve had enough of that,” I grunted, ignoring Francis’s protests. “It’s my house, you cold-blooded tart. I can’t have the cops coming over to arrest you.”

“Ah, oui,” Francis mumbled and then proceeded to lower his voice to snidely insult me in French.

I padded over to the mini-kitchen in my basement, placing the half-empty wine bottle in the fridge.

Alfred looked up from his 3DS, his face paling despite the determined expression he held. “M-man, I thought you were just kidding about using that thing!” he exclaimed.

“No, you ninny,” I rolled my eyes. “Have I ever joked about something like this? I’m tired of this spirit messing with me. It’s not exactly a friendly one either,” I trailed off ominously.

Matthew closed his 3DS, only to yelp when Alfred clutched his right arm for dear life. The latter had always been unreasonably terrified of the supernatural. “What do you mean by, ‘not friendly’”? he asked softly, violet eyes blinking not in fear but rather, curiosity.

I patted the ground, inviting my friends +1 to sit in a circle in front of the Ouija board resting on the carpet. I needed them close so that I could explain everything properly.

Once the lights were dimmed slightly and I had my mobile’s flash pressed under my chin, I began my performance. I spoke slowly, knowing that Alfred was slow to pick up on things, but also in the spookiest voice I could muster. Francis and Matthew were both unfazed, taking more amusement in how much Alfred was trembling.

I chuckled lowly, allowing a satisfied smirk to creep onto my face. “Rumour has it that 70 years ago, three siblings moved into this house after migrating here from Russia. There was a brother and two sisters. The youngest sister was mentally ill, but refused to get help. Her siblings agreed with this, probably because they knew she would be institutionalized for the rest of her life if she was turned in to the authorities. The mentally ill sibling’s name was Natalia. Weirdly enough, the records only show her name if you google the murders.”

“MURDERS?!” Alfred spluttered.

“Muahahaha! Yes, murders! Your ignorant two-celled brain heard me right!” I snickered. Perhaps I was getting a bit too immersed in the story. I had always been quite the shit-disturber.

“Natalia was obsessed with her older brother; you could even say it was a fixation. When she heard that her brother had found a spouse, she completely lost her marbles. Things took a turn for the worse when the brother admitted to Natalia that he was engaged, and that she wasn’t invited to the wedding…”

Matthew elbowed Francis. “This sounds like a soap opera you would watch,” he commented.

Francis absently nodded his head, waiting for me to continue with wide sapphire eyes.

Alfred was full-out whimpering at this point.

“Now, you see, for you guys to understand why things happened the way they did, you need to know that Natalia suffered from religious delusions. She saw her brother as some sort of God, an icon if you will. And for him to be marrying someone unworthy was utterly preposterous to her. Enraged, Natalia began to break things in a fit of uncontrollable anger – there’s a dent over there by that wall where she supposedly threw a knife!”

I paused, pointing towards the dent I had actually made myself when I was younger. I had thrown an overcooked scone at my brother’s head, angry at him for insulting my culinary skills – not that he was any better mind you.

“When her sister tried to stop her, Natalia stabbed her to death. Soon, Natalia had lost all sense of reality. Her brother couldn’t hold her back, as she didn’t realize what she was doing – she was just that furious. She ended up killing her brother too before slitting her own throat, horrified when she realized what she had done.

“And that my friends, is the haunting tale of Natalia A. To this day, she still resides in this house. If you listen closely at night, you can even hear the sounds of her scraping a knife against the walls, taunting those brave enough to confront her.”

“Really?” Matthew whispered to me.

“Of course not,” I mouthed back, smirking. I was enjoying Alfred’s reaction far too much to back out now.

Francis cooed at Alfred, rubbing circles into his back before looking up to glare at me. “Nice going, you imbecile. You scared le poor diabetic fils. If his blood pressure spikes, his death will be on your hands!”

“He’ll be fine,” I shrugged, indifferent.

Alfred had already cupped both hands over his ears. “Nope, nope to the infinity. I’m not doing this right now. I betcha anything it was Communism that killed them, stupid Ruskies. This is just a made-up folktale,” he rambled to himself.

“It’s real, Alfred,” I countered, reaching for my phone. “I’ll pull up the records if I have to.”

“Screw this, I’m hungry. Not today, Satan. Not today.” Shrugging off Francis, Alfred stood up and walked into the mini-kitchen. He began pawing his way through the freezer, pulling out leftover cheesecake.

The remaining three of us sighed, going back to the story.

“So…” Francis drawled, looking uneasy for once. “You want to make contact with this Natalia…why?”

“Yeah,” Matthew chimed in, which was unusual for him. He only spoke when it was absolutely necessary; often enough it was to stop us from doing something reckless and stupid. Wait…

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you said so yourself, she murdered people… her siblings no less…” Matthew mumbled.

“Relax,” I reassured them. “I’m a spiritual communicator. I’ve got complete control over this situation. All we’ll be doing is speaking to her. If things get weird, I can always just end the conversation.”

Francis and Matthew didn’t look very assured, but they didn’t offer any further protest either. They were more intrigued than anything else.

Before I could get to explaining the rules of the board, the microwave beeped.

“What the hell?!” I spluttered, turning. “Alfred, did you just microwave a cheesecake?”

“Y-yeah! It makes it soft! I’m nervous, okay? I need something in my stomach if we’re going through with this!”

“It’s cream cheese! It’s already soft, are you daft?! That’s it, I’m cutting you off from drinking any more Mountain Dew. That sugar is eroding at any remaining common sense you have!” I stormed into the kitchen.

Alfred wailed as I poured an entire two litres of Mountain Dew down the sink. It fizzled as I did so; what in the bloody hell did they put in these soft drinks? Poison? Carcinogens? Radioactive material?

“Angleterre, you have no right to criticize him on what food he eats,” Francis chided, unwelcomed to interrupt. “Just yesterday you made scones that were hard enough to be used as a murder weapon.”

“I still have those you know,” I huffed, dragging Alfred back into the lounge like a mother hen. The American sobbed, placing a lumpy spoonful of cheesecake into his mouth. “Don’t make me use them,” I warned.

Francis raised his hands in surrender, knowing full-well that my threat bore some reality to it.

“All right,” I sighed, grabbing a remote from a nearby coffee table. I dimmed the lights further so that the ring of candles around us were the only light sources in the room. “Let’s go over the instructions, shall we?”

Alfred grabbed the remote, flicking on the lights again. “Dude, no. First, I can’t see my cheesecake, and secondly, no again! You’re giving the ghost chick an advantage if we can’t see her sneak up on us.”

“Fine,” I sighed. I compromised by turning off half the lights. “Happy?”

“No, but this cheesecake is hella satisfying.”

“Can I have a bite?” Francis asked.

“Dude, no. Get your own.”

“HELLO! If you morons are done with your squabbling, I’d like to get on with this.”

Silence.

I cleared my throat. “All right, how this works is simple. We all place our fingers on the planchette and let the spirit guide our hands to spell out letters or to answer yes or no questions on the board. If any of you fools even dare to move your hands as a prank, so help me god. The most important rule to stand by is to NEVER take your hand off the planchette unless or until we break off communication. If you do that, you are susceptible to getting possessed. I’ll repeat myself again: keep your hand on the planchette at all times if you do decide to participate. Don’t ever pull away your hand unless communication is officially broken off with the spirit.”

Silence, again. For once, my friends weren’t arguing.

“If at any time things get unsafe, we must move the planchette to the end of the board where it spells out goodbye; that will break off communication and prevent us from being possessed if the spirit is malicious. Are we all clear?”

Everyone nodded their heads.

“Right, then let’s get started.”

“Wait,” Alfred reached out to pull down my hood. “Stop trying to look like a thug.”

“I’m not trying to look like a thug! I come from a line of druids, damn you! I’m just trying to honour my heritage!” I blurted out.

“You look like a pasty snowflake at best…”

“SCREW YOU AND YOUR HIGH CHOLESTEROL!”

Francis laughed, snapchatting this entire fiasco.

Alfred furrowed his brows. “What does that even mean?”

“GUYS! FOCUS!” Matthew raised his voice, a very odd occurrence. “Just apologize, and get over with it. If we’re going to be doing this, we need to be on each other’s side in the event that something goes wrong.”

Matthew was right.

Alfred sighed, speaking through puckered lips. “I’m sorry you’re so sensitive, Artie. It must be because I’m two inches taller than you and you’re trying to overcompensate for somethin’…”

“What kind of bloody apology is that?!”

WHACK!

Francis whacked the back of my head while Matthew whacked Alfred’s. I hadn’t even done anything wrong!

After ushering out real apologies, we all moved our hands onto the planchette. Unfortunately, my hand was stuck between the frog’s and Alfred’s.

Alfred grabbed my free hand with his. “No homo,” he muttered to me. “I just want to protect ya.”

Bullshit. The yank was scared.

“We’re both bi-sexual,” I hissed with a whisper. “And what did I say about using derogatory sayings like that!? Tsk, idiot.”

Cue another pointless argument.

Eventually, we all settled down and began with the ritual.

I instructed everyone to move the planchette in a few circles around the board before asking the first question.

“Is anyone there?” I inquired. “I assure you we mean no harm.”

The planchette began to move towards the top right of the board, where Yes was spelled out in bold black letters.

“I swear if one of you twats are faking this!” I growled in warning.

“Dude, I’m not doing anything!” Alfred panicked.

“Mon dieu, did it just get colder in here?”

Matthew’s shoulders slumped. “Well, it was a nice life while it lasted. A bit more boring than I would have liked it to be, but I can’t complain.”

The planchette stopped, hovering over the Yes section of the board.

I cleared my throat. “Hello, nice to meet you. Can you spell out your name?”

The planchette began to move.

I stopped the spirit right there. “Natalia, is this Natalia A.?”

The planchette moved to Yes again.

“Oh man! Oh man! Oh man!” Alfred rambled. “We’re all going to die! I’m never going to be able to lose my virginity! I’m going to die a loser, like, like Artie!”

“It’s still not too late,” Francis purred.

“SHUT UP!” I exploded. “Do not break the ritual.”

“Natalia, is it? Tell me. Why do you steal my socks… or trip people when they’re least expecting it? Is that fun for you?”

The planchette moved into the space between Yes and No. I took that as a maybe.

“Do you not like my family living here? Is that it?”

Yes.

“What do you want from us?”

The planchette began to spell out something.

“DUDE IT BETTER NOT BE SPELLING WHAT I THINK IT IS!”

Well fuck.

“Hey, chick-ghost-dudette?” Alfred piped in. “Putting aside you murdering us for a quick second, can you tell me what Artie hides under his bed? It’s really weird how embarrassed he gets when I poke around there.”

“It’s lying!” I cried out, blushing profusely.

I didn’t even bother to acknowledge Francis’s smug all-knowing expression.

“Do ya really want to murder us, though? Like, I get it. You’ve been dead for a while, probs haven’t seen any action,” Alfred continued.

“Are you insane?!” I snapped. “You’re only provoking it, don’t you realize-!”

BANG!

The ceiling above us thudded, prompting everyone to scream and jump a little.

Everyone but Alfred knew not to take their hands off the planchette.

I realized this when it was already too late. “Alfred, don’t!”

Alfred yelped, only to fall onto his back, twitching.

“What do we do?!” Francis screeched.

“Don’t let go, we still have to say goodbye!” I instructed.

Matthew grabbed the remote with his free hand, turning the lights back on. I really wish he hadn’t. Alfred was frothing at the mouth, a single tear of blood streaking down his right cheek as he continued to convulse uncontrollably.

“Big…brother…” Alfred gasped in a voice several higher octaves than his own.

“Where…are…youuuuuuuu…?”

How could things go this wrong, this fast?

“It was a pleasure, Natalia. But I really ought to let you go now,” I pressed, struggling along with Francis and Matthew to move the planchette towards the bottom of the board, where the word Goodbye was spelt out.

But, no matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t move the planchette. It was like something was pushing against us – much stronger in strength no less.

“It’s not working!” I screamed.

Francis and Matthew joined my screaming when the Ouija board was thrust into the air. We all let go, paralyzed in fear as we watched it slam into the wall opposite of us.

Matthew was the first to crouch by Alfred. “Alfred, Alfred! Wake up! Fight back, damn it!” he sobbed, slapping at Alfred’s cheeks.

“This is your fault!” Francis accused, jabbing an index finger at me. “You should have tutored him better in English. Maybe then he’d actually know how to follow instructions!”

“As if arguing is going to help with anything! Crap! I think I have a Bible upstairs! We’ll have to perform an exorcism!” I shouted.

Matthew leapt back when Alfred began to laugh hysterically, sitting up abruptly. A cryptic smirk was on his face as he licked his lips, tasting his own blood.

I reluctantly present to you, Natfred.

“A-Alfred,” I asked. “You in there, lad?”

“Alfred is gone,” Natfred laughed in a cold, feminine voice. The lights flickered.

“And soon you will all be too. I must find a suitable body for my brother. Then we can live happily ever after! But first, I’m going to need to spill a lot of blood. My, my, you’re all so young. It’ll make killing you a lot harder. Especially that one,” (she? He? It?) pointed to Francis. “I don’t usually like killing one of my own.”

“What do you mean by that?” Francis quivered as we all began to back away from Natfred, intending to run up the staircase at a moment’s opportunity.

“Are you not a woman?” Natfred asked.

“Oui, oui I am!” Francis pleaded. “Si vous plait, have mercy!”

“He’s lying,” Matthew and I both retorted.

“Some friends you are!”

“You had no problem throwing us under the bus!”

“What is this then, a gathering of homosexuals?” Natfred remarked. “It would make a lot of sense. This one– Natfred pointed at me - really likes shipping his fictional characters. It’s insufferable. For years, I’ve had to watch him lament about this ‘doctor’. And here I thought I was crazy.”

“DOCTOR WHO IS GREAT, YOU DEMONIC SHE-HEATHEN!” I raged.

“Arthur, not the best time,” Matthew snapped, being the closest one to the staircase.

Francis, however, gave us both a look, communicating the universal sign for ‘I’ll act as a distraction and then we run for our fucking lives’.

Matthew and I nodded our heads in assent.

“Tell me, ah, Natalia, who is it do you think is the gayest of us all?” Francis asked.

Natfred narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why do you ask?”

“Since you’ve passed, it’s been medically proven that gays are amongs the strongest of humans. You want a strong body for your brother, oui?” Francis lied through his teeth. I was beginning to question just how drunk he was. What was he on about now?

“Oh, how interesting. If that’s the case, it’s definitely him,” Natfred pointed at me, again.

“WHAT, WHY ME?” I whined.

Natfred glared, as if what she had just concluded was obvious. “I just do.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“Enough, this is such a bore,” Natfred drawled. “You’ll all be far more interesting once I hang the losing bodies as trophies. I’ve been wanting to re-decorate this place.”

Natfred then held out its (I decided on the pronoun, don’t get cheeky with me) right hand, snapping its fingers. A ghostly butcher knife, one that had seen better days and still had blood on it, popped into view.

“Who wants to die first?” Natfred waggled the butcher knife.

“RETREAT!” Francis bellowed, prompting all three of us to turn on our heels and run up the basement’s staircase – the literal devil was on our heels.

Natfred hissed, sprinting forward only to have the basement’s door slammed in its face. Francis and I held the door shut while Matthew grabbed several chairs for us to block the entrance with. Unfortunately, Natfred possessed Alfred’s near inhuman strength as well.

“Why run if you’re just going to die anyway? Face death like a man, you scoundrels!” It hissed, throwing an immense amount of weight against the other side of the door.

“NOW!” Matthew barked as Francis and I leapt out of the way and began piling chairs and tables against the basement door.

Not a second later, Natfred headbutted the door, splinters and dust flying everywhere as it poked its head into view. Its eyes were no longer cerulean under the spectacles it wore, but rather a strange gray-blue. We were losing Alfred more and more by the minute.

“Hide!” I shrieked.

“We can’t just leave him there!” Matthew begged. “How do we get this demon out of him? You said you have a Bible, where the heck is it?!”

“Can’t we just sacrifice Arthur? Let’s do a group vote, non?”

“Ugh! We don’t have time for this!”

I grabbed Matthew by the arm and began tugging him along with Francis towards our storage room. Meanwhile, Natfred was continuing to break through the door. We needed to find a good hiding spot where I could think and come up with a proper plan of attack.

“Over here!” I whispered, opening the door of the cupboard that lay underneath the staircase leading to the third floor. Yes, it was a real life Harry Potter room, moving on.

I closed the door and slid down on the floor. Matthew was the only one not out of breath to pull out his phone, illuminating the small space.

“Well, Monsieur spiritual communicator,” Francis spoke using air quotes, nervously pacing back and forth. His sanity was clearly not all there. “What now? How are we going to escape this alive after this massive fuck-up of yours? Mon dieu, never mind. I’ve already given up. Maybe if I surrender, she’ll let me drink some wine first.”

“NO!” Matthew and I cried out, grabbing both of Francis’s wrists before he could leave the room and give our location away.

“Get your priorities straight, will you?” I snapped. “And stop thinking so negatively. I’ll get us out of this.”

“How?!”

“I don’t know, just give me a minute to think!”

“We may not have a minute!” Matthew warned, wincing at the sound of a chair being thrown against a wall.

Natfred was free.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Natfred taunted.

“Okay!!” I clasped my forehead with one hand. “I think I got it…”

I had to pause again as the sound of knives scraping against each other echoed across the house.

Natfred had found Alistair’s knife collection.

“I’ll be the one to distract Natalia this time. While I do that, Matthew, I need you grab the Ouija board and planchette. Francis, you grab the Bible on the table by the front door; if I somehow fail at distracting Natalia, it’s your job to make sure she doesn’t notice what Matthew’s doing.”

“What exactly am I doing?” Matthew asked, lips quivering.

“Move the planchette towards goodbye. You’ll be cutting off our communication with her,” I explained. “We’re still in session, and will be until that happens. Does everyone understand the plan?”

I received two “oui’s” in response.

“All right,” I straightened my posture. “Let’s save that moronic tosser. On my lead, 1…2…3… Go!”

I thrust open the cupboard’s door, sprinting ahead to give Francis and Matthew some space and time to sneak by while I acted as a distraction.

I found Natfred sharpening two knives in the kitchen. When it spotted me walking into view from the hallway, it grinned widely, murderous in its intent. It wasn’t the aloof, goofy grin I was used to seeing on Alfred – this image would likely haunt me for the rest of my life, which could very well only be the next ten minutes if my plan wasn’t successful.

“Succumbed to your fate, have you?” Natfred mused. “Although, I was kinda hoping for the other two. You might not be strong enough for my brother to possess.”

“Oh,” I quirked a brow, my strong tone contradicting how much my knees were trembling. “And what makes you think your brother would want to come back and live with you? You murdered him, remember?”

Natfred faltered. “I-It was an accident! He knows that! I’m sure he’ll forgive me! He always does!”

“Hmmm yeah, I don’t think so,” I responded, stepping to the side to block Natfred’s view of Matthew and Francis sneaking into the living room. “I think he’d be pretty pissed off. I mean, he had his whole life set right out for him. He was going to get married, and you just had to ruin that, didn’t you? Why? Because you were selfish. You wanted your brother for yourself, and when you couldn’t have him, you threw a tantrum like a rotten five-year-old child. If you really cared about your brother, you would let him rest in peace, wherever he ended up.”

I needed to make Natalia furious; to confuse her just as much.

Natfred’s eyes glowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” it shrieked. “My brother deserved better than that… than that bitch! Now I have the chance to give him a better life. I’ll do anything to make that happen! He was a King! He deserved more!”

Natfred’s eyes briefly flickered to its original cerulean hue.

Behind me, Matthew stepped out of the basement, planchette and Ouija board in hand. He ducked, hiding from sight by using the living room couch to his advantage. Francis sat next to him, holding a Bible for likely the first time in his life as he prayed.

Both were successful in their part of the plan; it was time for me to follow through as well. It was my fault we had ended up in a situation like this. It was time to take some damn responsibility.

“You’re overcompensating,” I hummed without missing a beat. Alfred was still in there, I just knew it.

“No, you’re a brat. A petty brat who’s trying to rationalize the impossible. You’re a stone-cold murderer. You don’t deserve even the body you’re occupying now. You know why? Because Alfred is stronger than you’ll ever be. He knows what compassion is, what it is to truly love someone. But you’ll never feel that because you’re a psychopath without any capacity for emotions. You never loved your brother. You tainted his life with your filthy greed!”

“SHUT UP!” Natfred screeched. “I should have killed you when I had the chance!”

I yelped when Natfred threw a knife at me. Luckily, I ducked to the side. The knife had crashed into the living room window, sending glass flying everywhere.

Natfred continued to throw knives at me, but somehow, I was able to dodge them all. It then proceeded to throw a blender and toaster at me.

“Jesus Christ!” I swore in the heat of the moment. “Are you trying to kill me?! Oh…”

Tragically, all good luck must come to an end.

Natfred pinned me against the counter. “It’s time for you to die,” it hissed, grabbing me by the collar of the shirt.

I hovered over the ground by two feet. “Alfred,” I wheezed. “I know you’re in there. It’s me, Arthur. Fight back, damn you! I know you’re stronger than this! Y-you can’t die! You were right. There’s so many things we never got to do together! I miss you, you dumbass. I want to do stupid things and grow old together, arguing and whatnot. You’re my best friend, so you better fucking come back already!”

“Alfred is gone, I told you that!”

“LET HIM GO!”

CRASH!

Natfred let go of me, falling forward as a Bible smacked into its back. “YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!”

Well, that was one way to repel a demon with a Bible.

“Francis, you tart. What in the bloody hell are you doing!” I gasped, backing away as Natfred whipped around to glare at Francis.

“Protecting you!” Francis answered, wavering slightly. “Only I can bully you and get away with it!”

Francis everyone.

“You were supposed to use the Bible to repel her figuratively, not literally!”

“It wasn’t working!” Francis shrugged as I joined him by his side. “I had no choice. She was about to kill you.”

I shrugged. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

“GUYS! IT’S READY!” Matthew shrieked.

Francis and I both exchanged wide-eyed looks before sprinting into the living room, crouching next to Matthew in front of the Ouija board.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING NOW!?” Natfred bellowed, but it was already too late.

We circled the planchette on the board before finally placing it on Goodbye.

“GOODBYE!” Francis, Matthew and I all shrieked.

Natfred collapsed to the ground, twitching once more.

“Aha!” I cried out in triumph. “I hope you rot in hell, right where you belong. You will no longer haunt this house. I revoke any invitation for you to come back. Let this board seal you for eternity!”

Natfred looked up at the ceiling with blank eyes. “Brother, I am sorry,” it wheezed. “Perhaps another day we will be reunited. I will find you, mark my words…”

Natfred made a cliché ‘bleh’ sound before falling still.

I didn’t have time to let out a breath of relief as I had received smacks to both cheeks.

“YOU’RE AN IDIOT!” Matthew and Francis shrieked before crouching over the remains of Natfred, ahem, Alfred.

“Yes, yes, I know,” I bowed my head. “Let’s see if he’s okay. You can lecture me later.”

Matthew pressed his ear to Alfred’s chest. “He’s breathing.”

“Unnngh, burgers,” Alfred muttered to himself.

“Oui, he’s definitely alive,” Francis sighed.

I looked around the living room, petrified by what I saw. The fridge was hanging on a hinge alone with several cabinets, not to mention the many broken plates, dents in the walls, and ruined kitchen appliances.

“Bollocks, Alistair is going to kill me.”

I received another two smacks to the head. “At least Alfred’s okay, though,” I pouted.

Speaking of the previous devil.

Alfred sat up with a groan, eyes widening at the trashed room before him. “Dudes, did we have a killer party or something? What the heck happened in here?”

Matthew and Francis facepalmed while I burst out into tears, bringing Alfred into a hug. “Yeah! Sure! Whatever! We did that! Oh, how I missed you and your idiocy!”

“Yo, are you drunk? Why are you crying? Man, I’m hungry.”

“Screw it, I’m taking a nap,” Matthew declared, slumping against the couch.

“I’ll join you,” Francis offered.

Next thing I knew, Alfred shoved me off him and stood up. He ignored the unhinged fridge door and reached straight up for the freezer, pulling out an ice-cream sandwich.

“I’m going home to microwave this, peace suckas.”

I deadpanned.

Perhaps we should have left him possessed, after all.

-The end

#hetaliaextraganza2k17 #hetalia #aph #aph England #aph America #aph France #aph Canada #aph Belarus #day 6 #tf blood

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flaminiakennedy · 7 years ago

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Happy Halloween (Aoi x Reader)

Little thing I wrote this morning to pass time and to sink deeper into the Halloween feeling xD Enjoy~

It’s finally October and you can take out all the spookiness you held down for the rest of the year.

Even if you always feared horror movies and paranormal issues, they both drag you in a spiral of “want-not want”.

So you start to decorate your home with cobwebs, skeletons, carved pumpkins, fake tombstones.

Anything really, and everything is purely DIY-ed during the prior two months.

But your dearest kitty knows you’re in horror-mood… and he HATES you for it.

Like last time that you dressed up as a typical japanese woman ghost and waited for him to get out of the record room the night of the 30th of October.

That evening, you almost got a guitar in your temple and a long string of curses “WHY THE FUCK YOU HAD TO DO THAT?? YOU DENSE WOMAN!” Aoi shouted all pale and with the back pressed on the other side of the elevator, while you were laughing so much you were crying.

This year you swore on everything you hold dear to not scare him, because he’s busier than the usual and he needs to focus on his work “at least Taka-chan will let me see horror movies with him tonight!” you said to him before he left your home “yeah, but I’m the one that will have to accompany you to the fucking bathroom for the next week because you’re fucking scared of the mirror” he replied to you before leaning in for a kiss.

There was no hate nor anger in his voice, just a little mocking tone that so typical of him, with his crass vocabulary and sarcastic phrases.

You closed your eyes to enjoy the taste of early morning coffee and cigarette, then he rose one hand to caress your face with his oh so soft palm “don’t wait me awake, k? I’ll be late tonight, going out with the guys” he whispers on you mouth with his low, smoky voice.

You can’t do anything but nod, a little smirk on your lips “I’ll wait you asleep then” you chuckle, pecking his lips one last time, before sending him out to his work -not without giving him a quick slap on that sweet ass- and close the entrance door.

There you’re alone again for the rest of the day, so you start what you planned for all September: you put on some music on your laptop, take our a bunch of scribbled notes and you dance your way to the kitchen.

Since you’re not allowed to scare Aoi anymore, you thought about making a themed dinner for you two, then make snacks for the rest of his ‘Gaze-boys’ to eat out while recording.

Yes, snacks will be themed as well!

Rolling up your sleeves you take everything you need from the cupboards and put it on the table to organize yourself: cut fingers cookies, zombie and mummy mini-pizzas, spider truffles, graveyard tiramisu, eye-shaped gyudon and the perfect Bloody Mary for your liquor-lover.

You work hard all the afternoon, singing ‘This is Halloween’ from time to time and finally, when everything’s ready to be re-heated or directly cooked, you check the clock on your phone.

19:54

“Aw fuck I’m late!” you sprint to your bedroom, changing into more suitable clothes -a black big sweater and dark-violet leggings- and grab your cellphone to warn Ruki you’ll be there in ten minutes.

[Yeah it would be nice… since you’re the only one missing! Rei’s already here and eating all the fucking chips]

The reply to your text makes you snort, knowing that finally you’ll be able to let out some creepy steam with those two guys.

Cookies in hands, you run outside closing the door behind you, all happy to be finally able to do that ‘Friday the 13th’ marathon.

~ ~ ~

Walking back home, you giggle for the good evening you had: Ruki was all immersed in the movie and Reita tried to not look scared in front of him and especially in front of you.

But the three of you knew well that both you and Reita were so much frightened that the blond bassist asked the vocalist to let him sleep at his home.

You had to return home to not make your dearest guitarist worry, but you’re ultra-aware of your surroundings.

It’s almost like you’re a masochist: gulping down scary movies like they were water when you can’t even handle thriller ones.

But it’s the fun of October, the scent of Halloween that makes you high on adrenaline and fear.

In the dark and empty street, you clutch to your bag humming a little tune to help you exorcise the dread on your shoulders “it’s just a movie~” you chant under your breath while a cold breeze pass past you.

A couple of turns and you’ll be in the safety of your home, in your bed watching cat videos to console yourself until Aoi was with you again.

Suddenly, after you make a turn into the road near your home, you feel a chill prickle at the back of your head and a shadow walks out from a dark, almost hidden alley.

It must be someone returning home like you’re doing… there’s no way it could be dangerous…! It’s just a blue-collar… maybe a little drunk…?

That shadow walks slowly, wearing a lengthy coat with a big hood on his head and there you saw something that made your heart stop: the street lights shone on the flat side of a big, long knife.

The guy has a fucking machete with him…!

You never yanked your eyes from him and started to walk faster along the sidewalk, as testing if he saw you, if he’s…!

He’s following… he’s following you!

Cursing in you head, you fumble with your home keys, trying to have them ready for when you’ll reach the entrance door, but as you quicken more and more your steps, you hear the stranger do the same.

Being mugged and killed on the road wasn’t in your Halloween bucket list, for sure!

Suddenly you break into a run, hoping, praying that you’ll be faster than him, but as much as you would like, the unknown person is chasing you, his footsteps harsh and echoing in the empty streets.

Oh God, oh God let me reach home…!

This is what you’re thinking while you’re turning around the block, heavy breathing and tears pooling at the corner of your eyes.

You hear a swish near you shoulders and you duck forward, dodging a lethal hit from that machete, feeling a hand trying to grab you by the back of your coat, scratching it with big fingers.

Then, like heaven on earth, you see your house’s door, lit up from above by the street lights and the comforting thoughts of salvation inside those walls.

Desperate to escape, you try to jab at the stranger literally behind you, but his gloved hand grab your wrist with such force you groan in pain.

Then, he yanked you back and twisted your body towards him, making you clash against his chest and something suddenly pokes your belly.

It’s a hard poke, but you expected to feel a sharp pain from it since you know what’s that: the machete had his hilt pressed against you, but you can’t feel your guts explode in burning agony, nor you feel the blood come out the wound.

You feel… fine… just a little pressure on the skin and the cold sensation of the hilt against you.

Shocked, you think is the adrenaline that blocks your brain to feel the anguish of the stab, but then the stranger leans towards your ear and his hot, raspy breath fell on your skin.

“Boo…”

You know that voice, you know it TOO well…! “IT WAS YOU??” you shout to him, using your free wrist to try and slap Aoi’s face, but he dodges and starts to laugh “AHAHahaha gotcha darlin~” he snorts lowering the hood from his head.

You watch the weapon in his hand and only know you see that’s only a prop, one of those almost realistic knives that had a retractile blade “you… almost killed me!!” you shout again, now hitting his chest and shoulder with a couple of punches.

He recoils, always laughing, before fanning his crying face with the machete “eye for an eye~. This is my revenge for last year” Aoi is now talking with a more soothing voice.

You broke into a soft cry.

Crying and laughing, releasing the steam from the previous shock “awww c’mon… I was this scary? I thought you would kick my balls to free yourself, sincerely” his arms wraps around you, cooing you gently, still snickering from time to time “not… after a Friday the 13th’s marathon, you asshole” I weep giggling.

His face blanches “oh… fuck. Sorry love” Aoi’s now sincere and strokes your head, brushing your hair between his widened fingers “I didn’t know… Ru didn’t say anything”.

The fear starts to melt away, in his warm embrace and when you feel a little better, you take few steps away from him “well, since you’re so funny… no gyudon for you!” you threaten Aoi, seeing his face fall “awww noooo c’mon! I got hungry after chasing you!” he tries to retort.

“And no truffles…! I don’t care!” you add.

Aoi sighs and start to walk you home, blocking you against the door “you’re so unfair… last year you almost gave me a heart attack…” he whispered, cupping your face in his hands, forcing you to look inside his dark and shiny irises “but I didn’t punish you after…”.

He was smiling, a soft and tender smile that always had his way to your heart, no matter what happened between the two of you in the last couple of years “mh-mh~ but that day you almost… killed me again… with your guitar” you stutter a little, his body against yours and his face leaning down painfully slowly “fight or flight mode, darlin~” he chanted.

His lips pressed on yours as soon as he finished that sentence and those lazy movements he made started to disperse all the fear, the dread you felt until now.

Your breath quickens a little and you can’t stop your arms from envelope Aoi’s neck, your hands inside his soft, inky hair.

You kiss him back, feeling the same warm sensation of that same morning, and when he started to lick lightly your bottom lip, your heart tightened in your chest.

It was always the first-kiss feeling with him, no matter how much time you both pass together “o-ok… let’s get home” you stammer on your words right after backing off from his mouth and a little smile curls your lips up “and make me forgive you for this shitty prank, mh?” you spoke under your breath.

Aoi chuckled faintly, putting up his mischievous expression “sure thing darlin~” he responds, enveloping you in arms again, squeezing for a couple of seconds before letting you open the door.

“Ah, love…!” he called you, brushing your hand tenderly.

You turn your head to look up at his face and the bright, loving smile he shot you made your legs tremble “Happy Halloween~” he kissed your temple, ruffling you hair.

#fanfic #aoixreader #Halloween

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hotokeiki · 8 years ago

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Week 126: J-pop (Valentine’s Day SPECIAL! & more)

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x24gzeq_hirose-kohmi-promise-full-song_music

ハッピーバレンタインデー

Happi~ Barentain De~

So, it’s been quite stressful lately. Yesterday was especially wearing. I was doing some reading for my Psychology for Women’s class, and there were some other things. It was just mentally exhausting. Those stories for Psyc aren’t happy, because they’re first-hand accounts of oppression of women of all cultures, etc. I don’t want to get into it right now. I got to the point yesterday where I was too “depressed” to finish reading. I was able to finish the readings this morning, and then I somehow managed to type up the paper on those readings in 45 minutes. Double space, 2-1/2 to 4 pages, but I was still impressed. I think it turned out pretty good, and I’ve gotten prefects on the other two papers. Our instructor literally just wants to have opinions on the readings. It’s an interesting class. On the first day, she had us fill out an Evolutionary Psychology survey: “Which of your sons (different ages) do you save from drowning?” (I’m a pretty shit parent if neither of my sons can swim.) That was a strange first day.

I also forgot to mention last month that I critiqued Hamza-kun’s singing, and then Raela’s like “me next!” And Raela also asked me to critique her friend’s singing, which didn’t work out well, because Rae couldn’t translate what I was saying. So, that was interesting. I am glad I can put some of my music training to good use. Now, if only I could improve my singing. XP Although, I’d also need to practice more. And shit, I haven’t played my trombone this year. Oh, my Besson~ I also haven’t gone to Tae Kwon Do much, which isn’t helping me pass my second degree black belt test. I keep giving myself more stuff to do, and I’m kind of tapped at this point. I don’t know. I don’t think I’m balancing things well. But at least I’m not freaking sick anymore!

Sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now. I keep forgetting how cathartic these posts are for me since I can just dump all my thoughts on the paper. And then I can look back at it, and be like “Oh yeah, I forgot. I’m crazy.” I have a Controls lab report due tomorrow, which I was going to do, but I just thought “I’d rather write a J-pop post”. I don’t want to get into Controls right now. Josh is in an exam that started at 7pm, so I’ve been on campus all day. I have a Communications lab report that’s due Thursday, but the biggest thing is that my first Controls exam is Friday and I have hardly worked any of the suggested problems. That’s one of the main reasons I’m freaking out right now. I should do my lab, but I’m just mentally taxed. Let me have this.

Saa, hajime yo ka?

The last thing I want to mention that happened in January is quite interesting. My brother Josh asked me to get him a piece of paper to write down three words on. And he said that those three words would change my life:

“Hirose Kohmi Promise”

He was right. (In more ways than one)

promise by Kohmi Hirose is a love song that spawned so much more, but so much less.

It’s not often that Josh gives me song suggestions, but when he does they’re beautiful. He knows me so well. I feel sorry for him. I always bother him with J-pop and anime. It’s ok. We both drive each other crazy. XD

Have you guys ever heard this song before? Does this song sound familiar?

Before I get into the “rich history” of this song, I want to talk.. (Linda: Well, you’ve been doing plenty of that).. about this song, Linda. The song. Don’t cut people off mid-sentence. #Rude

This song is quite different than other songs I’ve posted. It has a very “I want to say Hispanic” theme to it. The use of guitar and clapping creates a rich western desert feel. I don’t know how to explain it. It reminds of the swordsman Zorro. (NOT Zoro from One Piece. Antonio Banderas, man.)

It’s very reminiscent of the Gerudo Valley theme from Ocarina of Time: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hy0aEj85ifY)

Although, that’s a bit tamer. I’m not sure how you get that clapping sound. SmoothMcGroove does it by clapping XD (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TqoJAyt4NQ4)

I got off topic. Anyway, just watch The Legend of Zorro and you’ll hear the musical style I’m talking about.

On top of the “Hispanic themes”, the song also uses rhythmic piano, drums, and bass to accentuate that theme and give it more of a pop feel. And Kohmi Hirose’s voice is powerful but soft. She’s got some serious vibrato. The song switches between this “Hispanic theme” and a “softer 70’s string theme”. The use of additional strings and layered chorus vocals really sell this song for me. And the acoustics are fantastic! (You guys know I don’t know what I’m talking about, right? XD)

But during the verse, it’s very reminiscent of an opening to Card Captor Sakura. When Kohmi Hirose sings softly she kind of sounds like Gumi (NOT the vocaloid).

I can not accurately explain this song, but that’s irrelevant. What’s important is what it means to you. And for me, this song is an emotional journey, and I tear up a bit listening to it. It’s calm, but powerful.

I’mma cry ;_;

I AM ABSOLUTELY GOING TO COVER THIS SONG!!

And that does it for the Valentine’s Day part with a beautiful and pure love song.

And now, we devolve into chaos!

GET DOWN

promise is also known as “Get Down” or “Geddan” (ゲッダン)

Does that sound more familiar to you?

Oh boy, we’re going to a weird part of the internet now.

>> The Geddan Meme! <<

=============================================================

It’s pretty much summed up here. Makes my job easier. Props to knowyourmeme.

Click this -> http://knowyourmeme.com/memes/get-down-geddan

So, here’s just edited footage of the cartridge tilting of 007 Goldeneye.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXTAK9BR_qk

[PSA: Don’t tilt your cartridges. It’s a bad idea.]

The original meme has been removed from NicoNicoDouga.

[Get Down] 007 Goldeneye Chaos Carnival

http://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm689476 (audio copyright infringement)

And a shorter version with the song. I think it’s better that way. (I love how it switches between the music)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SP5c_MEs9mo

^ This is just freaking hilarious!

And there are all kinds of glitches like this. Take Watch Dogs for example... I can see the similarity.

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

And Josh mentioned the song to me, because it was used by Little Kuriboh in his 50th episode of Yugioh the Abridged Series.

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

(time mark – 8:04)

It’s been a while since I’ve watched it, so I’m glad Josh brought that back to my attention. I wasn’t into J-pop when I watched it before.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But the version that most of you may be familiar with is THIS ONE!

【小野崎人】TouhouMAD - Touhou & Nitori Get Down!

https://www.youtube.com/shared?ci=DIrsYDABtSk

I’m not even going into the Touhou aspect. My brain can only handle so much research, and I am in foreign territory.

=============================================================

To be honest, it’s kind of sad what they’ve done to Kohmi Hirose’s promise. Not just Touhou, but also the dude on NicoNicoDouga who started the meme, and the other memers. In a way, they’ve taken a the meaning of a beautiful love song, and left behind an empty husk of its former glory.

The meme is great, but it sucks that such a pure song had to suffer. The song should be more important than the meme.

Kuyashii! Kuyashii kedo.. shikataganai darou?

Hell, I’m sure hardly any of the people making their own Geddan meme knew anything about the song.

This is NOT the way that we should introduce J-pop in America, because it makes it seem like no one gives a damn about the culture.

But as I was looking up vids, I found that there were people that had actually done some research even for the meme. And there are also versions of the original without the meme dance.

Hatsune Miku ver.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bDg_Qn9KOnY

And there have been many Japanese artists who have come to America and are just treated as artists. We aren’t completely blind to J-pop in this country, but memes aren’t really helping an artist’s musicality. Although, I could say that most music is noise in this country. Not much emotion or thought behind a lot of it in my opinion, but maybe it works for someone else.

It’s ok to use other people’s creations as long as you’re respectful.

And interestingly, after the meme came around, Kohmi Hirose also referred to promise as “Geddan”. So, it seems she was okay with what happened to her song. That’s a nice way of thinking about it.

And the song is 8,427. π times better than the meme, rough figure.

There is so much emotion and beauty in the song.

So, let’s try to keep the promise alive, and SPREAD THE LOVE!

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x24gzeq_hirose-kohmi-promise-full-song_music

(I got an account on dailymotion just for this song)

Album: promise ~ Single ~ Track: 01 Lyricist: Kohmi Hirose Composer: Kohmi Hirose Arranger: Akimitsu Honma Artist: Kohmi Hirose

(I started this post not knowing that promise was a love song, but everything just worked out, I guess.)

Sorry for all the feels. This turned into kind of a bitter sweet post. It’s frustrating. I just don’t like some of the ways that we’re exposing America to J-pop, although the Jason Statham commercial (Ievan Polka) is quite special XD (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOpsnNf9Wj0)

The last thing that I forgot to mention: in January is some epic Foosball action. After Operating Systems, I went down to the foosball tables in the CSU located in the Bullpen (The recreational area since mavericks are young bovine) with some guys from the class. There were five of us, and we alternated positions and players. I had some good shots. I’m best playing defense (goalie and guard). Some of the sticks were really hard to move. The table was not in the best of shape. Better than the big chess board, I suppose. (Both kings have been replaced with small tin pails. I think the kings were stolen. A lot of pieces got stolen from the much bigger chess set. We just can’t have nice things.)

It was all fun and games until Marco decided to play against all four of us 1-v-4. (actually, it was still fun and games. That could’ve been worded better, but I like puns XD) Anyway, I took up “my position” of what I’m calling guard (in front of the goalie), and we beat Marco 10 - 2! Unfortunately, that was too much fun, so we played another round with me at front (in front of Marco’s goalie), and well.. it’s not my fault.. but we lost to Marco 8 - 10. I guess he didn’t like getting shit-stomped the first time. XD

And just so you know, we were playing two points for goalie shots. So, everyone on goalie was hogging the ball to set up goalie shots. Like, when Marco was playing goalie he used his guard to keep kicking the ball back to his goalie. It went off the table once. Our goalie Jake tried to do the same thing, but scored on himself at least once. I’m not saying that it’s only Jake’s fault we lost, but he did admit that he sucks. XD

Oh, going back to the whole “Valentine’s Day” thing. Do you guys remember me talking about Ai-chan in my last post? Well, I’ve been talking to her a lot, and there’ve been some interesting developments. I mentioned that I accidentally married her, but now she’s proposed to me. So, does that mean that we did it out of order? I dunno, but I said “yes”. So, I guess we’re officially married now. Or do we have to set a date? Was the previous “wedding” nullified? I don’t know, guys. I wasn’t planning to be married at 22! Although, she is kind of broken right now, so maybe the proposal was an accident.

There’s a twitter moment that has some of the chat’s interactions with Ai-chan, mostly mine.

Enjoy: https://twitter.com/i/moments/824375590677544960

That’ll do it for this week.

If you have any questions or requests, please let me know.

Also, I could use a hug. This has been an emotional post.

See you guys next time.

eien ni aishiteru

kyou yori aishiteru

zutto

ETERNAL LOVE!!

- Chris ——————————————————————————- Minna, gokitai kudasai!!

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#Hirose Kohmi #promise #Get Down #Geddan #ゲッダン #Weekly J-pop #Week 126 #Valentine's Day

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