#like damn that's what i want my space actors au to be like in the end | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bmpmp3 · 5 months ago

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wanted to know what vocal synth hcs you have... for any of them :3 curious

MY headcanons for like anything morph around a lot depending on what i wanna daydream about in that moment so things get loosey-goosey - i joked about the myriad of AUs i made for the main character of an otome game I drew a lot of fanart for a few years back that I imagine it all like this one map for b3313 i saw years ago

like this HVFGSKDJHFEksafds everythings connect but also not and some are parallel and some are unrelated and some are branching storylines for the same concept while others are like. what if they were in space. i have fun <3

BUT anyway what i was thinking about is like, most of my silly comics kind of have a weird mix of like. imagining a production company that specifies in voice and singing production and also like. old 2009 vocaloid fandom canon where synths know theyre a specifc install of software in a computer and know about the user and all LOL im more of an oldhead than i think i am.......... i missed out on the entire scene from 2018-2020 tho so even tho i love old songs and new songs theres like that two year gap thats always a surprise for me <3

SO like i often imagine all the different engines as like. separate offices or separate office buildings. all mostly in the same district tho. tin pan alley ass situation. THE UTAU building is huge and chaotic with a new addition under construction with openutau, the vocaloid building is like sleek and a bit old fashioned but slowly amping up its to its old glory, some of the smaller engines like voicevox and such i picture as like smaller offices within the same building - so someone like sora whos on both sv and vocaloid i always imagine going between the offices (engines) to do different voicework, someone like rikka runs between voicepeak, sv, and cevio talk all together. shes very busy....

a really old deprecated software like i dunno lalavoice. dectalk. etc also have an office but everyones too scared to visit. they never see people leave or go in but the lights are still on. haunted by perfect paul.

wait sorry thats not really what you meant by headcanon probably sorry for the setting overview i just like to picture them all in a place <3 with a big showbiz entertainment industry flavour because i love stories about that stuff kjdsrkfed

anyway sometimes i also move over into my less meta daydreams so something like the virvox guys who i've gotten kind of attached to, sometimes its fun to imagine them as just normal guys doing voicework in a real office building that just happens to have companies called voicevox synthv and a.i.voice on different floors HFJKDSJHksd i like picturing stories where theyre like underdog voice actors/singers trying to make it big.... its very fun hee hee

actually i like doing that a lot in general. my favourite scenario is a big first concert that almost goes wrong (maybe technical issues) but just barely manages to go through fine and connect the singer with the small audience.. a classic..... can you tell im a love live fan....

OH heres some specific headcanons i tend to lean into relationship wise:

asterian rikka and genbu i like to imagine hanging out a lot as buddies and close co-workers because they were the first three vocal synths i bought and the only three full sv banks i have currently DKJFSJdkfsdakfds like you know how some people talk about like "work-husbands"? genbu is rikka's work-big-brother and asterian is like her work-dad <3 i imagine asterian to be like early 30s ish at most so hes a bit young for work-dad status but i think itd be really funny if he got a worlds best dad mug from her. like. thanks kid. but damn.........

and yeah i have absolutely incorporated your frimomen as rikkas dad headcanon into my worldview its so good dude. i think hed be so wonderfully embarassing <3 and i think itd be funny if he got a mug from rikka that just says like "dad". no worlds best or anything. moon god work-dad is cooler.

genbu's getting a congratulations on turning 3 toddler birthday card from rikka and thats it. i like imagining them as a bit of a shenanigans duo.... like a big brother who tries to be responsible for a second but immediately gets swept up in some bullshit anyway. 20 something bro who enables ur teenage sillyness <3

relationships are a big thing for me I looooooove picturing all kinds of dynamics like friends family romantic etc its so fun. i keep calling the eclipsed sounds starry court the celestial polycule and part of that is because i didnt know what else to call them before i saw the official starry court name but also i do like those three together a lot, romantically, platonically, any which way. saros is very silly in particular. i imagine them like 6 feet tall and full of chaos and solaria and asterian as like a wonderful 5'9

sometimes i think its fun to imagine universes where the starry court dont know theyre synths nor celestial deities and like theyre normal people with secret powers they havent unlocked yet..... i had some daydream a year or two back about asterian in a slightly dystopic future unlocking moon powers by discovering ancient technology in a fallen moon. if that makes sense. i forgot why.... but i think its a fun AU

i tend to focus on a lot of relationships between synths that share software but i also think its fun to think about shared voice providers, like i always imagine sora having like this sisterly bond with the coco sisters despite no blood relation. they are sisters...... sisters forever....

i do wanna start considering unrelated synth relationships more often tho... most of the time obviously i treat miku like shes the biggest synth star because she is HJKFSDHJkdsrfjds so i often picture other synths viewing her as like a celebrity. altho some know her personally like teto or gumi LOL i think theyre BUDDIES they have known eachother for over a decade. OH and im also a mean teto truther. i love her being kind of mean and jaded HJKFDsjds i think shes ultimately softhearted but i like to picture she has a bit of a hard edge

but yeah i really like playing around with these guys!!! they are fun dolls for me <3

#ask #sorry if this is incomprehensible. theres probably lots more i cant think of rn but im always having fun. thank u for asking!!!

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babygirl-diaz · 3 years ago

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You're Cute Enough to Fuck With Me Tonight (AU)

Going to a club when you’re in your late 30s is not the best way to spend your Saturday nights, but Steve and Natasha insisted, so Sam ended up giving in to the peer pressure. Natasha got them to bypass the queue outside because she apparently knew the owner. The nightclub turned out different from what Sam was expecting. It was an elite club with its own fancy VIP lounge. Natasha got them a VIP booth and the three of them did whiskey shots to celebrate the successful first season of their tv show.

They were talking and laughing and well into their third beer when Natasha said, “Sam, don’t look now, but cokehead over there is eating you up with his eyes.”

“Huh?” Sam asked, and turned around to see who she was talking about when he found a white dude with short dark hair and a face full of facial hair, looking at Sam like he was starving and Sam was a buffet. There was a line of cocaine in front of the guy and he leaned down to snort it before coming up to wave at Sam. Sam ignored him.

“I tell him not to look and what does he do… he looks,” Natasha said sarcastically. “The guy’s hot, though. I think you should go for it.” She leaned back against Steve, who absently stroked her arm.

“The guy looks like trouble to me,” Steve pointed out. “I think you should stay away.”

“Wow, thanks, Dad,” Sam huffed.

“I love this song!” Natasha announced when the strings of a familiar song played. Before Sam could say anything, he was being pulled onto the dance floor by his friends despite his protests. “Call Me By Your Name, really?” Sam asks

“What? It’s a nice song!” Steve said, almost offended.

“You’re so whipped!” Sam laughed and slapped him on the back.

He moved his hips and ass along with the music and let out a frustrated groan when Natasha and Steve started grinding up against each other and got lost in one another. Sam knew this would happen. He’d end up as the third wheel and that’s why he wasn’t keen on coming tonight.

Sam lets out a surprised sound when he felt hands on his waist. Whoever had their hands on him spun him around, and Sam immediately came face to face with a pair of bright blue eyes, rimmed red. It was that cokehead from earlier. Sam wanted to pull away but got hypnotized by the look the guy was giving him.

The guy leaned in close to Sam’s ear and sang completely out of tune. “Romantic talkin'? You don't even have to try. You're cute enough to fuck with me tonight.” His voice was rough and despite the bad singing, it ran a shiver down Sam’s spine.

“I’m Bucky,” the guy introduced himself and pulled Sam even closer to move their hips together. “And you’re hot.” His voice was slightly slurred.

“Well, lucky for me, my name is Sam and not Hot.” Sam wrapped his arms around the guy’s neck and pressed their chests together.

“Sam…” Bucky said as if testing out his name. “Beautiful name for a beautiful guy.”

“You’re just saying that to get into my pants,” Sam smirked.

“Is it working?” Bucky pouted

“Nah, you gotta try harder.”

“God, you’re so hot,” Bucky said into Sam’s ear and took his earlobe between his teeth and pulled on it, making Sam moan. “I want you so bad,” he continued to say and squeezed Sam’s ass. Maybe the alcohol made him do it, but Sam surged forward and kissed him. He darted out his tongue and licked Bucky’s upper lip before taking it between his own lips. He then tilted his head to the side and kissed the edge of Bucky’s lips. Bucky opened his mouth and Sam’s tongue slid inside and he let himself explore Bucky’s mouth. The kiss got intense and heated. Sam felt Bucky’s cock press against his and he moaned into Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky swallowed up the sound. The song ended and they pull apart but stay close. “Let’s get out of here,” Sam said over the next song.

“Okay,” said Bucky and took Sam’s hand, leading him out of the club. But when they got outside, a small group gathered around them and asked Sam for autographs and photos. Sam felt himself strain in his jeans and he hoped no one noticed it as he took photos and signed autographs. Once the crowd dispersed, Sam found Bucky giving him a curious look. “You some kinda big shot?” He asked.

“I’m an actor,” Sam replied. “Ever heard of the show Captain America and the Winter Soldier? I’m the Captain America part of it. My friend Steve is the Winter Soldier.”

“I don’t watch tv. Don’t get the time,” Bucky shrugged. “But I get to fuck someone famous. That’s one thing off my bucket list.”

“So that’s why you wanna fuck me?” Sam asked faking offense. “And hey, who said you get to fuck me?”

Bucky got closer to Sam and kissed him again. “Oh, you’re so gonna let me fuck you, doll.” The way Bucky says doll makes Sam shiver and bite his lips.

“You wanna come back to my place?” Sam asked.

“Nah, I can’t wait that long but I know just the place.”

Bucky took Sam’s hand and led him towards the parking garage. Sam raised an eyebrow when they got to Bucky’s vehicle. “You some kinda soccer mom?” He asked looking at the Jeep SUV.

“It’s nondescript. Works well for my line of work,” Bucky shrugged. “Besides, you’re gonna thank me in a bit.”

“Your line of work? Fuck, you’re not a stay-at-home dad, are you? I don’t do married men.”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed as he got into the SUV. Sam followed him. “I am not a stay-at-home dad or married,” Bucky replied.

Bucky was on him, kissing him, the second they got in.

Sam pulled away briefly to ask, “What do you do then?”

Bucky looked him right in the eyes. The red rim around his eyes was gone and his eyes turned dark as he replied. “I’m an assassin. I was at the club to kill one of my targets.”

Sam blinked at him before he burst out laughing. “Wow, I’m the actor, but you’re the one with the vivid imagination.”

A smirked twitched along Bucky’s lips. “What can I say? I have a boring ass job. So I’m just trying to make myself sound interesting.”

“So what do you actually do?” Sam asked. “No. Wait. Lemme guess.”

“Be my guest.”

Sam’s eyes trailed down Bucky’s body. “You’re an investment banker.”

Bucky’s eyebrow shot up at that. “So damn close… I’m a stockbroker. How did you--”

“I’m just that good.” Sam winked at him. But then a smile broke across his face and he shook his head. “I saw you with those Wall Street folks earlier. Wasn’t that hard to figure out what you did for a living.”

Bucky leaned in close and kissed Sam once again. “So smart,” he said in between the kisses. “Just the way I like ‘em. Get in the backseat.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He made his way onto the backseat and took off his clothes. He tossed them onto the front seat and felt his cheeks heat when he noticed the way Bucky was looking at him. Bucky’s blue eyes dilated, and he licked his lips while once again staring at Sam like he was a buffet. Bucky pulled out a condom and single-use lube from his wallet and Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “You were waiting to get lucky tonight, weren’t you?”

“I just like being prepared,” Bucky replied as he got into the backseat as well. He took off his own clothes and threw them onto the driver’s seat and pulled Sam closer to ravish his lips.

Bucky was right. Sam was thankful for the fact that the vehicle was an SUV. They had enough space to fuck in the back.

When they finished, it left Sam breathless and sore, but in a good way. Bucky drove him home, and the two cuddled up naked on Sam’s bed.

“Didn’t think you’d be a cuddler…” Sam commented.

“Oh, I love to cuddle,” Bucky replied, and tightened his grip around Sam’s middle.

Sam made his head more comfortable on Bucky’s chest and kissed his pecs. “You’re gorgeous, you know that.”

“So I’ve been told,” Bucky chuckled.

Sam frowned at that. “How many guys do you pick up at the club?”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?” Bucky teased and kissed the top of Sam’s head. “If it’s any consolation, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re just saying that cause I let you fuck me,” Sam huffed.

Bucky got on top of Sam and pressed their lips together again. “Nope, I’m only saying that so that you’d let me fuck you again.” His hand moved down on the sheets and groped Sam’s ass, making him gasp.

“You asshole,” Sam said, with no heat behind his words. “Lube and condoms are in the side drawer.”

“How many guys do you bring around here?” Bucky asked, narrowing his eyes.

Sam smirked at that. “If it’s any consolation, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

***

Sam woke up the next morning to a cold and lonely bed. Bucky had snuck out during the night without even saying goodbye. That made Sam hurt a little. Just a little. Huffing, Sam threw the sheets over himself and fell back asleep. He didn’t know how long he slept, but the ringing of his doorbell woke him up. Sam wanted to ignore it and go back to sleep, but the person on the other end of the door was relentless.

Groaning, Sam got out of the bed and put on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt before making his way to the door. He threw it open and found Natasha and Steve standing there, looking equally worried.

“Oh thank god,” Steve pushed past Natasha and hugged Sam tightly.

The guy was built like a tank, and Sam struggled in his embrace. “Let me go! You’re crushing me!” Sam complained and pulled away from his friend to catch a breath. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“You disappeared last night! And then this morning there was news that someone at the club died and you wouldn’t answer your phone… we were scared!”

“What?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, your leering cokehead friend, one of his friends OD’d at the club last night.”

“Shit,” Sam hissed.

I’m an assassin. I was at the club to kill one of my targets. Bucky’s words rang in his ears and for a moment, Sam entertained the thought that maybe Bucky wasn’t joking after all. But he shook his head and got rid of the thought as soon as it entered his mind. There was no way Bucky was responsible for some guy overdosing. Sam was being ridiculous.

“Where did you go last night?” Natasha asked, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“The leering cokehead… I brought him home,” Sam replied.

“What?!” Steve screeched. “Why would you do that?”

Both Natasha and Sam gave him an exasperated look, and he threw his hands up.

“So how was he?” Natasha asked.

“The best I’ve ever had,” Sam replied.

#SamBucky #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Natasha Romanov #Steve Rogers #TFATWS #fanfiction #tw: drug use #aashnas drabble

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oxfordred · 3 years ago

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Okay, one can like JC with his badass whip, his sect leader position, his pretty actor or animation, his love for his nephew and the fact that he’s one of the main players in the story.

What makes no sense is

Pretending like it was okay for him to forget his debt to WQ and WN

Being fine with killing a child and civilians of a sect/clan that probably suffered as much because of their rulers as anyone else did - someone born after the Wen attack/could do nothing

Accepting that him blaming WWX for the attack on LP was fine - the Wens make it clear that they would have taken over LP anyway, and YZY deciding to give in at the moment would have probably saved their lives for the time being (and cost WWX his hand, which he was willing to sacrifice - it wouldn’t have been pretty or just but it might have saved LP from total annihilation, giving them some time until SSC came around in full swing, and eventually overthrow the Wens)

Believing that he loves his civilians oh-so-much - JC loves his clan and his sect, he would refuse to go on night hunts unless they brought glory or someone died anyway. Think about why his reputation is being formidable and harsh, while LWJ’s title is light bearer (roughly, I’m not part of Chinese diaspora nor have knowledge of the language) (side note: isn’t it weird that apart from JL, and attacking Wangxian, JC barely interacts with other characters post WWX’s resurrection? Almost as if, damn, he has no connections. The other three great clans are joined by relationships, shown to interact with brotherhood, and then there’s the Jiangs. I thought orange didn’t rhyme with others, seems purple doesn’t either.)

JC did successfully rebuild his sect (with help from WWX initially) and yes, that counts as being a successful leader.

Yes, one could think he doesn’t owe WWX anything (pre GC transfer reveal) and therefore, him going against him if he truly thought his sect was in danger. (Though let’s remember that the Jins use JC’s jealously and insecurity about WWX to ensure that he doesn’t support him; without which it would have been much harder for others to attack WWX. LXC tries to somewhat intervene, though he was no angel, and MM and LWJ publicly support WWX.)

But no, by the same logic, WWX doesn’t owe him anything. What little he owed (if one wants to ask an orphan to repay a family who found him on streets, despicable as this concept of debt is), he payed back with his GC and his use of DC to help them all win the SSC with much fewer casualties and in much lesser time.

The point is that it’s okay to like JC, it’s okay to dream of AUs where he’s better and supports WWX and changes things - but don’t pretend like he didn’t do what he did in canon, that everything he did was forced or justified OR that reconciliation between him and WWX is necessary AND that WWX should be apologetic.

Reconciliation where JC accepts his mistakes, actually understands WWX and tries to be better can still be written.

Listen, fandom is free space. You can do whatever you want. The above statements essentially only stand when one argues canon with someone OR is trying to push others to believe their POV.

Free expression and right to interpretation shouldn’t be confused with force someone who agree or all-interpretations-are-correct-and-valid - there is a difference.

All this said, you guys will probably do what you want. You probably know most of the stuff above is fact and still ignore it. So like whatever, but also, seriously?

(Also, I’m self-aware enough to acknowledge that while I’m not actually stating anything that isn’t factual, my statements do have a biased tone to them. Somewhere along the way, they went from pure fact to fact with emotion, but eh, I’m human, and you guys like temper tantrums right? Look JC and I match.)

#jiang wanyin #jiang cheng #canon jiang cheng #just having fun with the JC fandom #is this #anti jiang cheng #didn’t start that way #so I’m tagging everything #felt annoyed might delete later #I’m usually passive about these things #live and let live #and then occasionally I’m like don’t you want to go batshit #mdzs #is it discourse if it’s fact

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bangtanbeforebitches · 3 years ago

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The Fall was a Trip - Take 1

An Original work written, produced, storyboarded, edited, agonized over and owned by: bangtanbeforebitches

Starring: Min Yoongi and Actor YN/Reader (from a purposely POC perspective) with guest appearances by everyone else you know and love.

Genre: Bangtan is Bangtan-verse AU, Rom-Com, Interracial Relationship Navigation, Strangers to Lovers, Quick but Slow Burn, Star-Crossed Lovers, Story within a Story, POC POV, K-Drama Indulgent on all fronts

Themes/Warnings: Heavy issues, Honest discussions, Things people probably don’t want to hear, Ridiculous run-ons for the fuck of it, 4th wall breaking, Inner monologue rants, YN is EXTRA AF, Mentions of racism, Childhood trauma resurfacing, Mentions of anxiety, Dangerous situations, a Shit-ton of swearing, Drinking, Probably smut at some point down the line, Some hopefully not so confusing script breakdowns, Usage of basic film and stage production terminology, Excessive flirtation (but Jimin doesn’t count), Fluff on Fluff on Fluff, Smooth moves, Lots of awkward moments, YN is a klutz, Sweetness to rot your teeth, Mood Swings, Denial of emotions, and at some point after therapy- Acceptance.

Format: Multi-chapter, ongoing WIP

Word count: currently 17k

Rating: Explicit, Minors are advised to not pass GO. 18+

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have zero clue WTF I'm doing. I have never been to South Korea-- SO! All the places, references and pretty much everything in this hot mess of a daydream is to be taken as FANTASY. Non-reality based, peoples. Secondly, I would like to say that a lot of the material and conversations and opinions you'll find in these pages have been pulled from my last relationship (8 years with a Korean man- SK born but definitely American as all get out) and my ongoing friendships with his family members both living here and there. I just ask them random ass questions and try my best to not let on that i'm asking for BTS fan fic purposes... cause I would never hear the end of it. Big shout outs to my besties @vyduan and @inkbluelily for pumping me with constant encouragement and hyping me up to do the impossible... actually post. ]

---------- Flashback to the beginning, Two years ago --

Navigating the streets in Seoul had finally started to become second nature.

Thank goodness.

Working up the guts to approach a local and ask for help had always tended to be hit or miss. Either people feigned not being able to understand your Korean, pretended to not know any English (though you had heard them speaking it just seconds before) or they completely ignored your pleas for help and started asking you a dozen rapid fire questions about your hair.

So many hair questions.

It's a constant thing here.

You understand the curiosity. Your curls are on point and frankly, pretty damn fabulous. But people apparently have a negative grasp on the concept of personal space when it comes to foreigners, yet they heed to the utmost levels of hesitation and bodily respect when it comes to physical contact with one another.

But a black girl trying to find the shoe repair shop that’s supposed to be on the corner?

What do her boundaries matter?

One second it's "Oh! You're so dark!" and then that phrase is (9 times out of 10) immediately followed by a darting hand grasping for those shiny springs of kinky wonder and magic.

You’re used to it. No offense taken because… let's be real. You would be offended all the time if you let silly things like their inquisitiveness get to you like that.

And the people here always seem so shocked when they realize you’re able to speak a bit of their language. You assume it’s mostly because they realize that you can understand what they’ve been saying about you in front of your face. Some apologize. Some don’t. Some just politely backpedal and compliment you for attempting to learn Korean at all.

You’re not by any means fluent just yet. You’ve got the basic Seoul dialect pronunciation down but still have a terrible grasp of the grammar structure... but, hey.

At least you try.

----------

You crossed the last congested intersection, a smile stretching across your face while (not) blending in with the flock of despondent souls en route to start the work day. You all, like bees in a swarm, buzzed through the landscaped courtyard, past the lunch stands prepping their menus and tents for service in the afternoon. You, in your merry mood, took a moment to beam up at the massive (and massively intimidating) building that stretched skyward in front of you.

You were lucky enough to have been offered a position as a production assistant at KBSMedia around eleven months ago. It's afforded you opportunities that you could only have dreamed of back home stateside. At the price of your loneliness? Totally, but still very much worth it in the long run. You’ve met countless Korean celebrities, idols, been a part of the crew for two hit drama programs and now, (a drumroll seems fitting here--) finally.

This glorious, low dust and pollutant filled air-quality morning marks day one of a new chapter for both your career and your status within the company ranks.

It's almost unheard of.

Seriously. It’s maybe the second or third time in Korean broadcasting history. You still get a little choked up at the thought of it all.

Today is the day in which you will take a rightfully-earned, long-awaited and over-due, monumental first step on that path leading to a place in front of a camera lens and into the spotlight.

You.

A [COUGH] relatively young, black, American woman.

Here.

In one of the palest countries a person could possibly imagine.

Halfway--

No.

Literally on the other side of the planet.

When the network gave the “OK” for your director's "out of left field" idea to cast you (he personally delivered the news to you with many air quotes and hand gestures) in this thought provoking, meticulously scripted and groundbreaking role… to say that you were shocked would be the understatement of the century.

All the same, you were beyond grateful for the opportunity and more than ready.

Ready to play the best damn "comic-relief roommate of the female lead who basically only says 'Annyeonghaseyo' from the apartment couch, usually with an absurd amount of food in her mouth, providing visual gags with charm and conveying affection and friendly support for the main character" that the South Korean film industry has ever seen.

You even get to improv.

In your pocket are two degrees to backup your talent. You majored in Theatre (with a concentration in Acting) and then continued your graduate studies while pursuing your dreams in New York and rotating through multiple (expensive) performance and film classes.

Cliche.

You are aware.

How you’ve ended up doing so much dang production work, you’re not one hundred percent sure. You had come to realize after hearing "No, but thank you for your time today" so much that that must just be the nature of the business in the most competitive audition field in entertainment.

They say, “You get in where you fit in and you fake it till you make it”.

Even if that mantra takes you across the globe.

----------

"Annyeong, ____-ah! How was your weekend?"

"Lonesome but productive. Just studied at home and dreamt about all the chicken and beer nights I’m going to miss at your place from now on. I’m pretty much off book, though. So, there’s that,” you shrugged and smiled with a wiggle of your dark brows. “How's she coming along, ah jeo-ssi?"

This “older” man, your friend, was the single nicest soul at KBS.

Seung Woo was the daytime front desk security guard. He prefers the term security agent so the position sounds more stealthy and cool. He likes to give off a Bond vibe while working and wears a full suit most days. Steamed creases and all, courtesy of his wife.

It is not required for him to be this extra, that’s for sure.

But this guy, right here? He knows just about every employee in the building. Just like the classic, dashing spy would in a blockbuster movie. He sees all. Knows all. Only really likes a few of these ‘show-biz’ types that pass him by without so much as giving him eye contact (which is how you bonded) but for some reason he took to taking care of you like an uncle, more so than a big brother.

It’s sweet considering if you were back in America you would be considered practically the same age, but here at work? You love getting to use the formal honorifics. You can tell he appreciates the respect.

Though, when off the clock he will enforce the “oppa” card.

Which you enjoy far less.

Because cringe.

He only bests you by a few years. He recently turned 34, but it’s 35 when tracking his life span the Korean way.

You’re turning 31 this fall.

And that’s a good, old-fashioned (or possibly ��good new-fashioned”, because honestly? What the hell do you know? You’re still just a kid in the grand scheme of things if you consider the current average life expectancy of an active, healthy, non-smoking, adult female like yourself...)

So, yeah. The point? Right.

You’re turning a plain ol’, solid, traditional for the western hemisphere, starting post-utero, only counting from your first breath, “don’t anyone dare think about adding an extra digit to your years if they value having all of their teeth and toes”-- 31.

You’re clinging to your youth with all you’ve got. Both hands. Maybe your thighs too. You weren’t blessed with this melanin-infused baby face for nothing.

And you were grateful for Seung Woo’s face, just the same. When you started, there was a good stretch when he was the only smile you’d come across until it was time to clock out and head home to FaceTime with your family. You’ve had a friendly banter going ever since your first day when you swiped your ID for clearance through the shiny turnstiles. You’ve been helping him and his partner learn more English in exchange for the daily lessons on how to survive in this building and in this country. You would've given up here long ago if not for his advice and their friendship.

"She's getting bigger by the second. Look," he said and deftly whipped his phone out of it's holster on his hip to show off his wonderfully pregnant spouse.

Yea, he really uses one of those belt clips. The last time you saw one was on your father.

Despite this fashion faux pas, Seung Woo was still handsome as all get-out and a total DILF in the making.

His wife, Chaeyeong, was a former idol who fell for his charismatic smile and bashful eyes whenever she had a schedule at the studios. She had been caught making eyes at him by a photog one too many times (aka, one time) and when her group's contract was up for renewal, she and her company “mutually decided to part ways so that she could pursue other endeavors outside of the pressures from the spotlight that comes with idoldom”.

Or at least that was the story DSP’s PR team came up with in the statement they dropped to the media. In reality, they didn’t want to bother dealing with the dating rumors and Chae didn’t think staying was worth an innocent man with a beautiful heart being dragged through the mud by netizens. So, she jumped ship and went for it. Now, she’s one of the co-hosts on a variety program where they dish out love advice to viewers and she’s been embraced by (most of) the public for following her heart.

While she may be widely considered the prize of the pair to the untrained eye, personally, you think she's a smart young lady for taking him off the market.

Because that man treats her like a queen.

"She's simply radiant, Seung Woo-ssi."

"Thanks, I know,” he said, clipping his phone back into place. “We couldn't handle it anymore and we found out the gender Saturday. I wanted to tell you in person."

"We couldn’t handle it?” you snickered.

“Fine. Me.”

“There you go,” you nodded and smacked his back affectionately. “You made it to 8 months. Honestly, I’m shocked."

This was how you guys worked.

He laughed, ignoring your snide tone, not the least bit put off by your jab about his lack of patience. It was an indisputable fact. You prompted him to continue with a light tap to his arm. "Well?"

His exuberance shined all the way up to his glistening eyes and it felt as though it would burst through the top of his head like the bat signal.

He truly beamed. It was almost blinding.

"Really? It’s a boy?!"

"I could cry!" Seung Woo was unable to contain himself, his body bobbing on the balls of his feet. Any more force and he would actually be jumping for joy, if you will. It was disgustingly cute. He had been praying their first child would be a boy.

Most men over here seem to want male heirs.

“Could cry?” you gave him a look of disbelief, grinning.

He met your eyes. There was no way he could hold out. His whole body sighed in defeat.

“I did cry.”

“That all?”

You placed your hands on each of his shoulders to pull him down closer for inspection. You leaned in towards his face with your dark eyes, sharp as a blade, cutting him deep for the real story.

Which you basically had the gist of already. There were many texts from Chae earlier this morning requesting that you keep an eye on her emotional hubby and asking you for confirmation that he was okay once you spoke to him. She was careful not to spoil the news of the appointment. Though Chaeyeong was your friend too, she knew this would be something that he would want to share with you first.

“Ok, fine. So, I cried. A lot. Aish, I couldn’t stop crying. I cried like a baby. Snotty gross crying. All weekend. At the drop of hat ever since we found out. I couldn’t even start the car leaving the doctor’s and Chae-Chae had to drive us home from the office. She made me take the bus today to be safe because she didn’t trust me to not break down in traffic if a stroller passed me at a stoplight. I only just pulled myself together a few hou-- minutes ago before you got here after sobbing at the bus stop, sobbing at the breakfast truck, sobbing at my locker and sobbing in the bathroom. I had to run out before the team pre-shift meeting because-- surprise, surprise!-- I was a mess when Hee-hyung brought up his son’s birthday party yesterday. I’ve had to go back to the bathroom twice since then just because a baby in overalls and a shark hat was carried by the desk. I’m doing my best with every breath that I take not to scream it out at the top of my lungs that my beautiful wife that I don’t deserve is giving me a son and I feel like the king of the world!! Happy?!”

Seung Woo inhaled deeply and you snorted and clapped your hands.

"CONGRATULATIONS!!"

He let out a sort of squeal-like sound at that and the two of you bounced together in a tiny circle, your celebration possibly a little bit too buoyant for the employees passing by you, drawing attention and some passersby grimacing in your direction. Remembering your place, you broke apart, him coughing into his fist to cover his proud simper and you took to readjusting his jacket and tie.

"I can't wait to come down later and chat but I can't be late today,” you said as you brushed his shoulder off and then pounded that fist that he was now stretching out to you.

“You’re going to kill it, ____-ah.”

“Thanks, Woo-ssi. Oh, and I definitely want a copy of that new ultrasound for my refrigerator!" you stage-whispered loudly to him as you took a blind step back and then started to skip backwards towards the parallel lines of elevators. The lobby around you was noticeably more clear than just a few moments ago. Seung Woo was deep in his own world, pulling out his wallet to stare at the black and white blob of a photo of his unborn.

You paused to watch him fondly before skipping backwards some more.

"We need to take a picture of all three of us, you know. Or I guess now it’s four!!--”

Man down.

Well… "Woman down".

Wait--

Nope. "Man down", too.

You had taken a hostage to the floor with you and he was trapped under your flailing limbs and coif of curls.

"OH! Oh my God, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!" you stammered over and over as you attempted dismounting the lap of the man you had fallen on top of so gracefully.

Obviously, that is a lie.

There was nothing graceful about this moment.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going and I was just so excited for my friend and--"

A set of hands gripped your waist tightly to steady you and before you could register that they were connected to the person beneath you, Seung Woo's arms were under your own and helping to lift you onto your feet.

Once up on your shaking stems, you immediately hitched your body into a bow towards the gentleman on the marble tile.

This was embarrassing.

And awkward.

You were all of the “awkward”.

All of it.

Every little bit of what comes together to define that which is “awkward”?

That’s you.

Right now.

And your anxiety will probably never let you forget it.

You’ll be at your wedding about to say “I do”-- or maybe this will leave you shook when you’re cutting your cake and you drop a chunk of buttercream on the floor-- so you look down to make sure you missed your dress-- and that’s when you notice the fake marble dance floor sticker tiles and they look just like this floor that you’re staring at right now-- but your fiance had insisted on them because he’s a “classy guy but cheap” and the vendor gave you a discount because he was Korean and you could speak his language fairly well-- he was actually a really nice guy-- but you’ll see it and panic-- and so you close your eyes and have a PTSD-like flashback of these painful minutes-- but when you squeeze your eyes tighter to clear the images everything is suddenly moving in slo-mo-- and now you’re back to when you were 30 and thriving and living in a foreign country-- and your big, dumb ass just had to knock down an innocent stranger-- and you’ll remember rendering him paralyzed, mute and deaf in his left ear from the concussive impact of his head smacking that cold, hard floor-- which led you to losing your work visa, your chance at an acting career, and you were thrown in jail before being shipped back to the United States in a packing crate in the luggage hull of an airplane-- next to a gassy dog and what you think was an unmarked box of snakes… on a plane.

Or much later in life, you’re going to be old and gray-- but probably with no wrinkles because you never had a reason to smile after this-- and you’ll probably be in a cheap and poorly rated nursing home-- with no friends or family who care about you left in the world-- eating questionable cream of corn soup that is neither sweet nor salty-- just no flavor at all-- and it’s definitely not supposed to be green-- and your teeth will be in a cup on the nightstand next to both your hot pink and your purple SMTWTFS pill popper packs that are stuffed with enough meds to kill a giraffe-- and the nurse on meal service will have forgotten your lime jello and cup of ice AGAIN-- and you will STILL be able to feel the tightness in your chest from this amount of awkward embarrassment that you’re currently feeling in this moment-- and you will STILL be able to replay this memory on repeat in your mind like it happened hours and not years ago-- and it will be in full 186,405K resolution-- which is quadruple HD clarity… because that will be a thing by then.

And when your time comes and you think you can finally be rid of this memory, you’ll be born again-- and you’ll be plagued with flashes of this moment in your dreams in your next life-- and you won’t recognize the faces in the scene but you’ll for HELLA SURE know that that shit looked embarrassing as fuck-- and you’ll probably pay for lots of therapy trying to deal with the nightmares-- until you give up and try to recreate the dream-- and then the cycle of trauma will start again.

Ahem.

Very visibly trembling, you dropped to your knees and clasped your hands in front of you, bending your forehead down to meet them. You couldn't bring yourself to make eye contact with the face of your victim. It’s not like you would have been able to see him from your current angle even if you did look up, what-- with all of your hair blocking your view, but still you didn’t dare.

You heard what you assumed were his hands dusting himself off as his companions helped him up off of the floor. They were all chuckling while looking him over to make sure he was alright. You only had a sliver sized peek of multiple sneakers, some bulky ass boots and loafers with the owner’s heels hanging out, ruining the back of the expensive looking shoes.

That should be considered a crime, even if your feet do look that smooth.

"I can't believe-- I'm so sorry! I'm such an idiot. It'll never happen again. I'll watch where I'm going and be more careful, I swear! I'm so very, very sorry!” you apologized as a man stepped between you and the small crowd of people. You stared at the tile with fear-filled, wide eyes and could almost feel his shadow that cast over you. It matched your darkened spirits that were sending you into a spiral of panic.

You peeked up at the man and stuttered at the sheer width of him. He was wearing all black (or at least his pants, shoes and socks) and he was much larger than you. Very much larger than you. “Is- is he hurt? Oh god, I'll g-get a medic and I can pay for the b-bill. It's the least I should do, right?”

Receiving no response more than his unreadable face, you righted yourself up on to your knees and with a flip, tamed your curls out of your vision, smoothing them back into what you hoped was a presentable style. You contemplated what was going to come of you while fixing the neckline of your blouse and then rubbed your hands nervously over your thighs. You were still unable to see past the man in front of you, as his thighs were in your direct line of sight and thick as hell.

You looked up at him the way you had as a child while awaiting punishment in Catholic School, and he mirrored Sister Agnes’ scowl down upon you to a tee. There was no wooden ruler rapping against his palm. So, with scant confidence in your muscles to assist you, you instead rose from the floor aided by Seung Woo’s shaky hand.

He must’ve been thrown by the accident as well. For a guy trained and trusted to protect and defend people in a crisis, he’s got the nerves of a mouse.

Broad, RBF-man then turned, giving you his back and you read “SECURITY” across his jacket. You stilled in place from his profile as he glared at you over his shoulder and scoffed with a tilt up of his sharp chin.

Hold up. Was that “in disgust”? Seriously?

In your heels you were still a few inches shy of being able to see over this wall of a man as he spat a curse at you.

“Yah, this wasn’t assault or anything. Just an accident,” you looked up in distress, holding your one elbow while the hand of that cradled arm palmed the side of your face. You rolled your eyes and rubbed your temple. “Who is this guy, Woo-ssi?”

He didn’t answer. He was holding his radio earpiece, listening to a call. More than likely about the commotion you had caused. This was not what you needed before your big day. It felt like a bad omen.

“Did I break something, sir? I can drive you to the hospital!” you cupped your hands around your mouth to project past the linebacker blocking you and over the murmur of multiple voices.

“Oppa, I'll need to borrow your car or-- Ah, shit! Of all days for you to take the bus,” you groaned and rubbed both temples.

You whipped your head to Seung Woo as he gasped.

“What? I’m sorry. I was just kidding,” you said as he nodded along to his com. “That was rude of me.”

Having been facing you during the majority of this time, making sure that you were alright and then waving along the nominal foot traffic, Seung Woo redirected his attention to the crowd behind him. He let go of his ear-piece and started to shake his head back and forth rapidly, his face and neck paling. He clasped a palm tightly to his mouth.

“I was in the bathroom crying. I missed the briefing…” he mumbled through his fingers.

“Briefing?”

“I’m sorry, ____-ah. Don’t hit me later, please.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I swear, I’m sorry-- I’m sorry-- I’m sorry-- I’m sorry to everyone!!"

"Please stop apologizing."

That voice was new.

There were giggles.

Male giggles.

“And for the love of God-- HYUNG! I’m fine. Stop touching my pants. Cut it out already, guys.”

That voice.

You knew that voice.

You had heard it somewhere, at least a million times before, you were sure, but you couldn't pinpoint exactly from where. You hesitantly took a step towards the MIB in front of you just as his figure took a step to the side.

This cannot be your life.

#bts fanfic #bts #btssuga #min yoongi #min yoongi fan fic #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x yn #interracial couple #kdrama tropes #bts fan fiction #bts fic #bts aus #romatic comedy #starcrossed lovers #quick fall #slow burn #blackgirlmagic #story within a story

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jaskierswolf · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: Geraskier modern au. Jaskier bringing Geralt home on holiday. They’re pretending to date so Jaskier’s parents won’t bombard him asking when he’ll find someone and when they’ll have grandkids. Maybe even a fake engagement? They’re both pining without even realizing and maybe a mistletoe kiss on Christmas Eve will open their eyes. (geraskier-trashh)

Dani <3 I always seem to vibe with your prompts! Once again this is 2.3k. I didn’t get the mistletoe in but... well. I’m pretty happy with it. Fake dating at Christmas!! 💖

Warnings: Some hurt/comfort feels, I’m pretty sure everyone cries at one point or another, lots of pining. ______________

Jaskier and Geralt stood in the doorway to Jaskier’s old childhood room. One single bed was pushed up against the wall, posters of Jaskier’s old favourite bands plastered around the room. Jaskier was gripping Geralt’s hand too tightly, having not let go from when he’d dragged Geralt upstairs to get away from the interrogation of his family. Geralt let out a long sigh and pulled them both into the room, dumping his rucksack on the ground in the corner.

“Ah, I. umm…. I seem to have miscalculated,” Jaskier stammered.

“No shit.”

“I thought, you know. Huge mansion!” He flung his arms out as if to make a point. “I didn’t expect that we’d have to… you know.”

“It didn’t occur to you that it might look strange if we don’t share?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jaskier huffed and put his hands on his hips, tossing his fringe from his eyes. Geralt was moving around the tiny room, his banged up bass case finding space next to Jaskier’s violin, his black hoody thrown over the old desk chair in the corner. Jaskier felt a tug at his heartstrings as he watched Geralt carve out a space for himself in Jaskier’s old bedroom, just like he’d carved out a Geralt sized space in Jaskier’s hearts oh so many years ago. Jaskier flexed his fingers and pulled his necklace pendant into his mouth, this was such a bad idea. What had he been thinking?

It was own bloody fault for lying to his parents for years behind Geralt’s back. It had just been so hard with their constant pressure to find a partner whilst he was pining helplessly over his best friend, so he’d lied and for five years he’d managed to find excuses for avoiding the family Christmas meet up. This year his luck had run out and he’d had to come clean to his friend. He’d thought Geralt was going to murder him at first, his face had gone bright red with rage and he’d not said a bloody word, which was just Geralt all over. Over a tense dinner of instant noodles and boxed wine, Geralt had muttered that he’d do it… and so, here they were.

“Yeah, well, I forgot.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “You forgot? That you’d told your parents that we’ve been dating for five years?”

“Six years… Our anniversary was two weeks ago,” Jaskier muttered, shuffling awkwardly on his feet and giving Geralt a sheepish smile.

“Our anniversary? For fuck’s sake, Jask.”

“I’m sorry! I meant to tell them we’d broken up but—”

“But what?”

“—but they always seemed so happy that I wasn’t alone, and to be honest it was nice.”

Geralt scoffed. “Nice?”

“Yeah,” Jaskier sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I. I didn’t feel so alone.”

Geralt sighed and pulled him into a hug. Jaskier buried his face in Geralt’s chest and whined. “You’re my best friend, Jask.”

Jaskier closed his eyes, grateful that Geralt couldn’t see his face. He could feel the lump in his throat, a dull never-ending ache in his chest. Best friend. That’s what they were, he should be thankful that Geralt allowed him that much, but fuck he loved him so damn much. No matter how much Jaskier flirted with Geralt, called him cute little nicknames, and practically admitted his love for his friend on a daily basis… Geralt never saw him as anything more than a friend, but god he drove Jaskier mad. He was always so damned thoughtful all the time, cooking dinner when Jaskier was at work even though Jaskier could never return the favour, hence the instant noodles for dinner, or letting Jaskier choose the film when he’d had a bad anxiety day, which happened more often than he liked to admit.

Geralt was his best friend, he was the bestest friend that anyone could ask for so really Jaskier couldn’t complain. He was just… hopelessly in love.

He laughed and pulled back from the hug. “Don’t you mean boyfriend?” He waggled his eyebrows and bopped Geralt’s nose.

“Hmm, fine, but we have got to break up by next year.”

Jaskier’s hand flew to his heart, gasping as he totally pretended to be completely heartbroken. There wasn’t an ounce of reality in the way his heart literally felt like it was shattering in a million pieces. He scoffed, covering up the way his hands were shaking by tugging at the edge of his jumper. “Fine, but I get to dump you.”

“Nope, it’s your mess. I’m breaking up with you,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and glared at Geralt. “As if you would break up with this arse!” He laughed and turned to wiggle his butt at Geralt.

“I’ve seen better.”

Jaskier gasped and turned to poke Geralt in the chest. “Take that back!”

“Not going to happen.”

“Geralt!” Jaskier flung himself dramatically into Geralt’s arms, Geralt caught him as he always did, and Jaskier pouted up at him. “You’re mean.”

“Are you boys fighting already?”

Jaskier squeaked as Geralt dropped him to the floor. His mother was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed in front of her chest, a smirk on her face. “No. No no no. Of course not, nope. Geralt?”

“No, Mrs Pankratz.” Geralt pulled him to his feet and Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist, placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“All good here, mother!”

“Dinner’s ready, hurry up.”

“We’ll be there in just a jiffy!” Jaskier sang as he leant into Geralt’s side. As his mother’s footsteps faded off down the hall he reached up to whisper in Geralt’s ear, “Showtime, darling.”

Geralt groaned. “Fuck.” ________________

Dinner wasn’t going too badly. Luckily Geralt and Jaskier had been best friends for most of their lives so there wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other. Honestly the only thing really missing from their friendship to make it more of a traditionally romantic one was the snogging. They went out of friend dates all the time, they lived together, and in all honesty they loved each other. Jaskier just made sure to double the use of pet names in front of his family, and he allowed himself to touch Geralt as much as he wanted, which was pretty much always. They held hands on top of the table, awkwardly eating one handed. Jaskier brought Geralt’s knuckles to his lips in between main and dessert, winking at his friend. It was so fucking easy to believe this was real. For two days he was getting everything he ever wanted. He was going to be heartbroken when this was over.

Geralt flushed and growled under his breath before kissing Jaskier’s cheek, much to delight of Jaskier’s parents.

“Julian, you know we won’t be offended if you want to kiss your boyfriend properly?”

Jaskier’s heart sank and he gripped Geralt’s hand tighter. They hadn’t discussed this. They really should have discussed this, but Jaskier had assumed two days without kissing in front of his parents would have been fine. Of course, his mother would decide to be cool. “Mother, really?” He groaned and hid his face in Geralt’s arm.

“You’ve been dating for six years, Julian. Your father had proposed by then when we were dating,” his mother sighed and smiled ever so sweetly at his father. “Don’t be shy, honey.”

“Mother!” Jaskier whined.

Geralt cleared his throat and Jaskier gazed up at his friend. There was a mischievous glint in Geralt’s eyes that Jaskier did not like the look of. He shook his head slowly at Geralt but it was too late. “Actually, Mrs Pankratz. I umm… I did have something to ask Jaskier,”

“Geralt…”

“The umm… well I wrapped it, but I guess now is as good as ever,” Geralt stood up and pulled Jaskier into the living room, ignoring his protests. Geralt pulled a small wrapped box from the tree, kneeling at Jaskier’s feet as he hand him the box.

Jaskier’s eyes went wide… what the actual fuck was happening? Jaskier thought back to his Christmas list. It was mostly nerdy shit and stuff for his instruments… nerdy shit. “Oh bollocks!” He yelled as he remembered a very specific piece of costume jewellery he’d asked for.

Was Geralt about to fake propose using the ring… like… the ring… from Lord of the Rings? Oh god, he was going to die from embarrassment. Jaskier’s hands shook as he tore at the wrapping paper. The velvety box fell into his hands, the familiar Elvish inscription was pressed into the black velvet. He hid a laugh behind his hand as Geralt gently took the box and opened it. Jaskier barely heard the shrieks from his mother as Geralt winked at him.

“Jask, the last,” Geralt paused and scowled “six years of my life have been the happiest of my life.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier whined, his heart thumping in his chest despite the fact he knew it wasn’t real.

“I’m thankful that I finally stopped being afraid of what I felt, feel, for you, and umm, well asked you out,” Geralt licked his lips, he actually seemed nervous, which was utterly ridiculous. He was a better actor than Jaskier had anticipated. “Can’t imagine how different today would have been if I hadn’t made the choice that day, the choice to be brave instead of a coward.”

Jaskier couldn’t help but reach forward to cup Geralt’s cheek, his hand moving on its own accord. “You’re the bravest man I know.”

Geralt laughed bitterly. “Not always, but ah fuck, you distracted me.”

“Sorry?” Jaskier giggled. “Would it help if I said yes?”

“Yes,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier knelt down opposite Geralt. “Yes.”

And then they were kissing, because that was what you did when you got engaged, wasn’t it? Only they weren’t really engaged, they weren’t even dating. Tears streamed down Jaskier’s cheeks as he kissed his friend with all the feelings that he could never admit, holding Geralt’s face in his hands. They were both panting by the time they pulled apart. “I love you, dear heart.”

Geralt, to Jaskier’s surprise, was also crying. He smiled sadly back at Jaskier as he brushed the tears from Jaskier’s cheek. “I love you too, Jask.” And then he slipped the ring onto Jaskier’s finger.

Jaskier swallowed and bit back a sob. “Fuck.”

Geralt tilted his head and glanced towards the ceiling. Jaskier nodded, hugging his arms around his chest. “I think we need a moment alone,” Geralt muttered and scooped Jaskier up into his arms.

Jaskier mother, also crying because apparently Christmas Eve dinner was a disaster, nodded. “Take all the time you need, darlings."

Geralt nodded and Jaskier hummed pressing his face into Geralt’s neck, desperately trying not to lose his grip on reality. They weren’t engaged. The mantra ran through his head obsessively. One more day, they would exchange presents, maybe a standard kiss under the mistletoe and then by next year’s Christmas Geralt would have broken up with him, and Jaskier’s parents would be none the wiser that it had all been a ruse.

A ruse, an pretence, an act.

Only it wasn’t an act, not for him.

“Fucking shit balls,” He mumbled into Geralt’s shirt as his bedroom door was kicked open. Jaskier practically leapt from Geralt’s arms and into the mess of bedsheets, hiding from the love of his life and pseudo fiancé.

“Jaskier, I’m sorry. I took it too far.” Geralt mumbled, sitting down on the bed next to where Jaskier was curled into a ball.

“No,” Jaskier mumbled. “I just overreacted, I… ah fuck it. I wanted it to be real. I’m sorry!”

“You,” Geralt stammered. “You wanted it to be real?”

Jaskier laughed haughtily and threw off the covers, wiping his eyes and glaring at Geralt. “Of course I fucking did. I told my parents we were dating… for six fucking years!”

“And you never once mentioned any of this to me?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Because I couldn’t lose you!”

“I didn’t want to lose you either.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide as he gaped at Geralt. “Hang on what? What does that mean? Geralt? Please do not tell me that means what I think it means!”

“I love you,” Geralt whispered “always have.”

“No, no no no!” Jaskier whined as his head hit the headboard. “Fuck.”

“Sorry.”

Jaskier laughed, the disbelief and sheer happiness in his heart overwhelming him. “Oh my fucking god, Geralt!” Geralt growled and stood up but Jaskier caught his hand. “Don’t you see?”

“No, care to let me into the joke?”

“We could have been dating for years!” Jaskier cried and then slapped a hand over his mouth, not wanting his parents to hear their argument. “This,” he waved his left hand at Geralt. “could have been real?”

Geralt frowned, his gaze flickering between Jaskier’s hand and his eyes. He sighed and a faint smiled graced his lips. “Maybe we should try dating first? Proposing on the first date is a bit much.”

Jaskier laughed and pulled Geralt into another kiss, his tears ones of happiness this time. He stroked Geralt’s cheek as they pulled apart. “What about the second date?”

“Jask,” Geralt groaned.

“Ok, the third date,” He laughed and Geralt shut him up with another quick kiss.”

“Your turn to propose,” Geralt mumbled against his lips as Jaskier slipped his hand up Geralt’s shirt.

“I don’t think I can beat proposing with the ring, dearest,” He giggled as Geralt pushed him back against the mattress, his nose running along Jaskier’s jaw.

“You’ll think of something.”

Jaskier grinned as Geralt’s lips crashed against his. He would think of something, something spectacular, but for now he was too busy kissing his boyfriend, grand marriage proposals would have to wait until next Christmas. They could make it a tradition. ________________ Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @scribblesonmapleleaves @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @ohheytheremiss @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi @llamasdumpsterfire @skai6

#the witcher #modern au #geraskier #fake dating #christmas prompts #winter prompt #wolfie's witcher writing #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #suddenly-a-twilight-blog

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tennessoui · 2 years ago

Note

You look really tired for the actors au? The short ficlet or the bigger universe, whichever!

hey hello!! so this is a prompt fill for the actors au, but not the space actors one (someone else already asked for that!!); this is goes in the same universe as the ficlet up on ao3!

(1k)

Actually, the thing that Anakin hates the very most about his job is the goddamn press conferences, the ad hoc interviews, the reporters who darken the room’s doorstep with a story they already know they’ll write, regardless of what Anakin says or does.

All they need is a soundbyte or two, and Anakin hates it.

The movie trailer is out, the movie itself in post-production. Every day, he’s forgetting more and more of the dumb, stilted lines he’d had to memorize for it.

Every day, his co-star kisses them out of his mind until the only thing he can possibly think about is auburn hair and blue eyes.

If only he could find a way to tell Irene, the current reporter, this. It’s not like Obi-Wan and Anakin are in a private relationship. In fact, after Obi-Wan’s stunt in the restaurant six months ago, they’ve been very, very public. Contractually obligated to be public even.

But Irene seems to have temporarily forgotten this. She’s looking at Anakin and Padmé on the couch, and her eyes are narrowed in on the slim amount of space separating them. It’s not their fault they have to sit so close together. There are too many damn pillows on this couch.

This is one of those reporters who knows what story she wants to write, and Anakin knows it all too well. This reporter wants to write a trash-piece for a trash-website, about the chemistry between Padmé and Anakin, the forbidden romance of it all (given that, and this cannot be stressed enough, Anakin is in a relationship), the love that transcended the movie screen.

Anakin has been very, very quiet since the moment he clocked the reporter as one of those. It hadn’t been hard. She’d spent half the introductions stroking over his arm and the other half talking about how thrilled she was for such an unconventional romance to be shown on screen.

What is so unconventional about Anakin and Padmé’s characters kissing, Anakin doesn’t understand.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry,” Padmé says suddenly. Her phone is ringing. Anakin silently begs her to stay, but Padmé is singularly incapable of ignoring a ringing phone. “I need to take this, I’ll be right back.”

The reporter croons and fusses and tells her to hurry, but there’s something very hungry in her eyes when she turns back to Anakin.

Padmé, please hurry, he thinks to himself and slouches back further into the couch.

“You’ve been so quiet, Ani!” Irene tells him.

“Uh,” Anakin says. “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“You look really tired,” the reporter agrees, and Anakin is offended on behalf of the make-up team who spent at least thirty minutes trying to cover up the shadows under his eyes. There’s a flicker of movement at the door Padmé had exited through, but it’s been much too short of a time for her to have finished her call, so Anakin doesn’t bother looking away from the reporter.

“Thanks,” he says. “That’s sweet.”

“Up too late…running lines with a certain co-star actress?”

Anakin blinks and furrows his brow. “The movie’s finished being filmed. Why would we be running lines?”

She smiles, and it’s a hungry, bloodless thing. “Oh? Were you up all night doing something else with her?”

“I believe,” says a very welcome and beautiful and familiar voice, “that would actually be my job.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi flops onto the sofa next to him, all purposeful indolence and spread limbs. Anakin relaxes at the sight of him, going so far as to move over so that their legs brush together from hip to knee.

“You’re out early,” Anakin says. Not that he’s complaining. He thinks they should definitely be doing more interviews with the three of them all together, seeing as how they’re basically the main characters in the movie, but every time the executives say no.

Apparently it’s alright when Anakin and Obi-Wan are pictured being loved up in front of various restaurants and bars around the city, but sit them next to each other in an interview and suddenly all the footage is unusable.

“Mr. Kenobi,” Irene says between gritted teeth. Anakin huffs and sits up straight because that’s not nearly enough respect in her tone. She’s gotta learn to separate reality from fiction: Obi-Wan isn’t a villain, he just sometimes likes to play one.

Yes, sometimes when the cameras aren’t rolling.

But Anakin’s into that.

“And before you ask, yes, I did keep him up far too late last night,” Obi-Wan tells her, wrapping an arm around the back of Anakin’s shoulders and pulling him closer to his body so that he’s half on top of him. “We were celebrating.”

“Celebrating?” The reporter asks, even if it’s clear she doesn’t want to.

“Six months,” Anakin says before Obi-Wan can, and he tilts his head up for a kiss.

The reporter looks like she’s swallowed a lemon. “There are some people who believe the two of you are faking it,” she announces, as if Anakin cares what some people believe.

“That’s ridiculous,” Obi-Wan seems to be on the same page. “And anyway, even if we were to begin with—” they hadn’t been, Anakin had insisted on trying this for real and Obi-Wan hadn’t protested at all— “then we certainly wouldn’t still be doing it after six months.”

“The press circuits—”

“I mean,” Obi-Wan says as if she has not said anything at all, “he’s quite lovable, isn’t he? After six months pretending to be in love with him, I probably would have actually gotten there. What do you think, darling?”

Obi-Wan’s slate blue eyes have a special sort of super power: the ability to drag any sort of truth from Anakin, no matter the setting. “I thought I was in love with you when I was fifteen and you were a poster on my bedroom wall,” he admits. “I had no idea though.”

Obi-Wan grins and presses a kiss onto Anakin’s forehead. He likes that sort of admission, but then, he was a child star who practically grew upin the limelight. Of course he enjoys a bit of an ego stroke.

“Oh no,” Padmé says from the doorway. “It appears my seat has been stolen.”

Lazily, Obi-Wan tilts his head to look at her. “Apologies, darling,” he drawls, hand slipping low and proprietary over Anakin’s chest. “Only, I am the villain.”

#asks #prompt fill #actually i dont know if this has a tag on tumblr if it does i have not been able to find it #which to be fair isn't saying much but still #anyway theyre famous assholes in this #sorta similar to the first prompt fill obi-wan is acting here to be more of an asshole than normal #because he can tell anakin is uncomfy #and anakin is just absolutely always ready to accept kisses and affection from obi-wan #no matter the setting #obikin #co-stars au

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1000roughdrafts · 3 years ago

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The (almost) Perfect Crime: Chapter Three

Warnings: language, alcoholism, violence (kind of) and threats of violence

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: This one is Dean’s POV, and as a reminder, this is an AU where Dean and Sam are not brothers, not related and don’t even really know each other that well. This was supposed to come out earlier today but I had a weird day and didn't schedule it I'm sorry

Masterlist

Chapter Two

Detective Dean Campbell parked his personal vehicle on the street a block down from the Golden Egg, just barely concealed behind a deteriorating fence. He glanced at his watch to note the time his subject entered the bar, and slouched back in the seat. He poured the remainder of his coffee into his mouth, scrunching his face as the undissolved sugar grates its way down his throat among the now cold brew. Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch again, and then at the street as people came and went.

God, you stick out like a sore thumb, Dean, he thinks, sinking into the seat a little more. Figuring he had a little time before that scum of a man came back out anyway, he could use the distraction of flipping through the file he kept locked away until he was off the company dime.

The other detectives were sure he was off his rocker just for mentioning a distaste for Portland’s favorite lawyer, Sam Winchester. But those same assholes were on board when his hunch proved true about the judge that was accepting bribes. It wasn’t as high profile as a case like Sam’s would be, but damn, it really showed Dean that he just can’t trust anyone.

He’d been given an ultimatum by the director; he could either stand down, or step down. Except Dean’s never been one to let someone stand in the way of what’s right, no matter who they are or what power they hold. His investigation was just going to have to stay a secret until he’d gathered enough evidence to sway the DA into pursuing a case.

“Fuck,” he growled, slamming a hand on the steering wheel. His eyes were going cross-eyed combing through the same papers over and over as they looked for something, anything that would just jump out and help him solve this. He needed a break, badly, but anytime he took his eyes off the pictures and documents he could still see them like they were imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

A knock at the window startled him into dropping the papers into his lap. Looking through the window was Sam with a smug smile.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dean said, forcing all of his strength into opening the door to slam it against Sam.

Lazily holding his hands in the air, Sam laughed. “Easy officer,” he said. Pointing at the Impala with a tilted head, he added, “you tailing me now, Campbell?” With a cocked head.

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped out, “the world doesn’t revolve around you, Winchester. I thought I’d stop by for a drink,” he said with a poised smile.

“Really?” Sam scoffed, “kind of looks like you’ve been following me,” he said. Making a pouting face, he said, “you’re a cop, Dean-o, don’t embarrass yourself like this.”

“Detective,” he clarified, “and I’m off duty… as I said, getting a drink.”

Sam nodded his head with the words, “which makes what you’re doing a crime, detective,” he chuckled, “you realize that right?” He looked around at the now nearly vacant street, “out in the open and all.” His laugh deepened as he turned to walk away, but after a few steps, he turned to face Dean. “You know, I could teach you a thing or two about staying hidden,” he smirked, “off the record, I swear,” he said, palms held up with a smug grin.

It took nearly everything in Dean not to hit him right then. He clenched his teeth and spoke through them, “over my dead body, Winchester.”

Sam tilted his head and tsked, “now, careful what you wish for, Dean-o,” he said, turning again to walk away.

“Your girlfriend know what you’re really up to when you’re ‘working’?” Dean called out.

Whirling around, Sam glanced at the bar and then back at Dean through squinted eyes before marching towards him.

“That wouldn’t be a threat, now, would it?” He said through his teeth while jabbing a finger into Dean’s chest.

Dean held his head high, and shrugged. “I know that I would never hurt her,” he said, then sucked air in through his teeth, “but could the same be said for you?” He let the air out and shook his head, “well, I’m sure we’ll all just be a lot happier when you’re behind bars,” he said, and in a harsher tone, added, “where you belong.”

Sam laughed, mocking Dean, “you can’t even get one detective on your side, let alone the DA, but yeah, go ahead and try your luck. See what happens.”

Dean rolled his eyes and let Sam walk away. He was nearly shaking with anger from just the thought of yet another day where Sam walks free, but if he wanted to get anywhere in his investigation, he’d need to get some sleep and grub.

—

The last thing Dean expected was to see Y/N sitting at a table on the balcony of the Golden Egg. He sat in a booth near the doors to eat and could see her through the glass with a woman he didn’t recognize. Y/N’s hair was tied up and for a lot of the conversation, which he wasn’t able to hear, she had her eyebrows raised and she sat very close to the table. Her drink was almost untouched and her leg was bouncing rapidly.

It felt weird for him to be so close to her, especially after the interaction he’d just had with her boyfriend. He ate his burger quickly as he snuck glances at her. If it weren’t for her long sleeves, and pants he’d have scanned her skin for bruises or marks.

Pulling cash from his wallet, he chugged the drink as he stood up. He threw the cash onto the table as he set the glass down and looked at Y/N one last time before turning to leave.

As he walked out, he wondered what side Sam showed her. It was hard to imagine that Sam treated her well. As he’d been tracking him for a while, he was well aware that they’d been together for the better part of three years. Hell, they even live together, and he hoped for Y/N’s sake that Sam was a good actor, because he knew that Y/N didn’t deserve to be with a guy like him. Hell, no one deserved that.

He thought about her the entire way home. The idea that she was so close to danger while being none the wiser really worked his nerves. He decided at that moment that nothing would get in the way of him building a case against Sam.

Pulling the Impala into the parking lot of his apartment complex, Dean wondered if sleep would escape him again like it had been for months. He jogged to his apartment and went straight for the beer in his fridge. His shoes came off only second to popping the top off and taking a sip of his sleep aid. It had become part of his routine; work on the clock for ten hours, then off the clock for anywhere from five to seven hours, drink a few or maybe several beers, and sleep (or try to sleep) for four hours, and that was if he was lucky.

PermaTags<3 @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva

That night, luck wasn’t on his side as he would get about two and a half hours, spending most of it tossing and turning.

Chapter Four

Dean <3 @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl

Sam <3 @fangirlxwritesx67 @immafangirlmess

The Almost Perfect Crime <3 @princessmisery666 @momowinchester @sizekinkshawty @deandreamernp

*Names in bold have not been tagging for a while, if you see your url please let me know if I need to fix it :D*

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know via a comment, like or reblog if you’re enjoying this so far! Feedback really helps to motivate me in writing more, good or constructive <3

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flourchildwrites · 3 years ago

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I've been trying to convince myself that jelsie is not a jerza AU, but tonight is the night I give in.

I waited for years to see the jerza arc come to a satisfying conclusion. I was there, Gandalf, for the kiss that wasn't. Or maybe it was. I don't know. It compelled me. Still does.

The point is that I waited patiently. I felt it in my bones that at the very end of it all (and there was a lot going on at the end of FT), I was going to get that satisfying panel of Jellal finally making peace with his regrets and getting with Erza. No more of this, "It's complicated!" bullshit. Some actual character development to cap off the series.

Of course, it's complicated. It has been complicated for years. But I was over garden variety complication. It had gotten old, frankly. I wanted ✨closure✨. I wanted a payoff for investing in jerza, for believing in jerza. At the very least, I thought I could be satisfied with jerza couched in fan service because, let's be honest, I was desperate.

But did we get that? NO! What do we get instead? A mention that Erza is taking very good care of her hair...

No.

I went back to read that part several times to make certain that I wasn't hallucinating.

No.

No way would Hiro Mashima do this to me. No way would he build jerza up like that since the first season, setting the ship up to be a profound expression of forgiveness, friendship and love triumphing, to end the main story with Erza brushing her fucking hair.

You know who does get a pretty good ending? Zeref and Mavis. Zeref and (the Mary Sue) MAVIS SUE.

But, I didn't complain very loudly. I told myself I was going to wait for the anime to make good on what the manga failed to accomplish. Did it? I don't actually know because I found myself so squicked by the prospect of being disappointed again, but in moving color this time, that I just noped out the whole thing.

And then Edens Zero dropped.

Space? Robots? An Epic tale where time itself is bent? 🤲🏻 Yes, this sounds like something right up my alley. And Happy's back. We love Happy. Who doesn't love Happy? Let the healing commence!

But then I met, Elsie Crimson, the armored space pirate, and right after that, we see Justice of the Interstellar Union Army. And there was a part of me that just... No. Noooo. No way would Hiro Mashima do this to me.

Again.

It is one thing to make characters that look like your old characters. They're his. He can do with them what he wants. And I am all for someone writing the jerza AU where Jellal chases Erza across the cosmos, but why does it have to be the damn manga artist writing the AU? He could have just, you know, written the jerza ending I wanted in the first place.

Dammit.

But I also thought, "Hey, Flour. You gotta calm down. They're just fictional characters. This isn't healthy. And just look at Happy. Yes, he's an exceed, but he's also a robot. And just look a Jella- I mean JUSTICE's hair. It's only blue sometimes, and the face-tattoo/ether gear is more or less transient. So there! Not the same. This won't be jerza in space. It'll be jelsie, something new and different. See, they already kissed (as they stabbed each other) which is a hell of a lot more progress that jerza ever made, I think..."

So that brings us to the present.

I had a bad day. No getting around it or denying it. Really bad day, and I have a habit of waiting to watch animes that I know I'm going to like on bad days to turn them around a little. So, I turned on Edens Zero, and what did I hear?

Colleen Clinkenbeard and Robert McCollum. The English voice actors for Erza and Jellal as Elsie and Justice.

Gosh, no! I had to be mistaken.

So, I looked it up, but since my ears are well-trained homing beacons for Collen Clinkenbeard's sweet, sweet voice, I was NOT mistaken.

It's a jerza AU. That particular part of Edens Zero is a damn jerza space AU. And I am... beside myself bitching about it on tumblr, the only place weird and niche enough to tolerate this rambling rant about fictional characters that I care way too much about.

Goodnight, cruel fandom. I just can't right now.

#spoilers #edens zero #fairy tail #jelsie #jerza #erza scarlet #jellal fernandes #elsie crimson #justice #james holloway

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ryqoshay · 2 years ago

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Putting on Hairs - Post Production: Shioriko Stares

Primary Pairing Trio: LanzMiaShio Rating: T Words: 734 AU: Theater, Monsters, Cryptids Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: ??? Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Buzzard Content Warning: Vampire stuff and vocabulary that may offend some of my readers... according to Word

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Author’s Note: Primary entry for Oct 10th

Summary: Shioriko stares at Mia

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She could feel her eyes boring holes into the back of her head.

Nobody could stare like Shioriko, as far as Mia was concerned. Nobody had as wide a variety of stares as Shioriko. There was her resting, mid-distance stare. Her disinterested stare. Her interested stare. Her very interested stare. Her confused stare. Her bemused stare. Her amused stare. And so many more. And truth be told, Mia loved them all.

And recently, Mia had become more aware Shioriko’s hungry stare. Specifically, directed at her.

Mia had no idea how often vampires had to drink blood. Nor did she know how or why Shioriko was able to consume normal human food, albeit in far smaller quantities than nearly everyone else she knew. She’d been caught off guard by how little she knew about vampires, or at least the type Shioriko was, more often than she cared to admit over the last few days. Hell, she hadn’t even known drinking Lanzhu’s angelic blood had made her immune to the sun.

But Lanzhu had said they would meet the same time next week after Shioriko had first drank Mia’s blood. Did that mean Shioriko only needed to drink blood once a week? But Lanzhu had also said that Shioriko had still wanted Mia’s blood despite having drank her fill of hers. Could Shioriko consume more than she actually needed to survive? Certainly, many living beings were capable of overeating, but vampires were undead, so maybe they played by different rules?

Mia shook her head to clear it. In doing so, she realized the sensation of being stared at was gone.

“Taylor-san?” the orchestra conductor asked.

“Sorry, what part were you having trouble with again?”

Mia shifted to get a better view of the score held by the conductor. Her position allowed her to steal a glance over to where Shioriko had been rehearsing with her fellow actors. Sure enough, her girlfriend had moved elsewhere.

---------

The hairs on the back of Mia’s neck stood on end.

Mia clenched her jaw. All day. Every opportunity she got, Shioriko had stared at her. Just stared. Nothing else. Not even a word.

Sure, she knew Shioriko could behave distant or disconnected at times. And sure, she had come to love the stares as a trait of one of the women she loved. But they were dating now. Surely that warranted something a more, right?

Mia tensed as she heard her girlfriend approach, stop, and loom over her chair. Staring.

“Gods damnit!” Mia spun. “Stop hovering over me like some damned buzzard! I’m not a roadkill rabbit to be scavenged!”

Shioriko flinched, nearly dropping the bag in her hands, and stumbled back a step. “My… My apologies, Mia.” She straightened and offered a curt bow. “I… shall take my leave.”

Mia sniffed. How had she missed that aroma? Had she really been so distracted by the staring that she hadn’t realized Shioriko brought food?

“Wait!” Mia called as the other woman turned.

Shioriko paused.

“Were you… bringing lunch for me?”

“Yes. Tsubasa-san ordered again from the Kousaka Kafé. I suspected you missed the message, so I brought ours here.”

“I see. Thank you, Shioriko. And uhm… sorry for shouting at you.”

“I’m sorry for staring.” Shioriko cleared space on Mia’s desk.

“Were you wanting to drink my blood?”

Shioriko blinked. “How… did you know?”

“I’m starting to learn your stares.”

Shioriko blushed. “Oh…”

“Anyway, you should have just said so.” Mia undid her collar button and pulled it open.

“I… can’t…”

“Why?”

“Because Lanzhu isn’t here to restore you.”

“You need Lanzhu for what now?” A voice came from the door.

Mia laughed. “Your timing is perfect.” She said as her other girlfriend strode into the studio. “But you’re back early?”

“Lanzhu sealed the deal with ease.” Lanzhu boasted, setting her own bag down. She glanced between the others. “I see. Well, go ahead, Shioriko. I’ll take care of Mia after.”

Shioriko nearly lunged at Mia.

For her part, Mia laughed again before letting the still strange sensations take over.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: Still kinda feeling my way through this trio, to be honest. The R3BIRTH girls have been slowly growing on me as of late; their three latest songs definitely got many replays to get me through my work nights when they came out.

However, the idea of Mia worrying about being “just” a little jackalope in a relationship with two extremely powerful, immortal beings definitely lends itself to a lot of exploration. And said exploration may very well help my headcanons for them over in my non-AU works. Or my other AU’s.

In any case, they are indeed fun to write.

#LanzMiaShio #Mifune Shioriko #Zhong Lanzhu #Mia Taylor #Putting on Hairs #Love Live Nijigasaki #Promptober 2022 #fanfic

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desidarling123 · 4 years ago

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Reviewing the Grishaverse Couples (Canon and Non-Canon/Alternate Universe) just because I can, here we go:

These are not based *strictly* on the books, but rather the Netflix show, which appears to have spawned ✨all the ships✨ as of late.

DISLAIMER: I don't hate any ships! And I won't tolerate any slander. Creativity is the core to all fandoms, and that's what shipping (canon or otherwise) is ultimately all about. Cool? Cool.

CANON COUPLES:

Darkling/Alina aka DARKLINA: What I came for TBH, though not necessarily what kept me watching through the end (damn you, episode 5! you got me so confused! ahhh but also corruption arc for Alina? hmmmm) Jessie and Ben have chemistry in spades, and Ben emotes well for an ancient asshat. These two have great fic potential.

Mal/Alina aka MALINA: Sweet! A little boring to me initially tbh, but much better on rewatch. They are each other's safe haven, and there's something really lovely about that. I like them together.

Kaz/Inej aka KANEJ: GOD TIER. THEY'VE RUINED EVERYTHING ELSE FOR ME. NOTHING EVEN COMES CLOSE. THE FUCKING PINING BITCH. HE LOVES HER. SO SO MUCH. 1000000000/10.

Full disclosure: I came for Darklina, but stayed for Kanej. And, at this rate, will happily suffer countless seasons where the most they do is maybe hold hands but also Netflix please let them heal their trauma together and kiss at least once for my poor shipper heart PLEASE

Nina/Matthias aka HELNIK: They're cute. Almost a little too on-the-nose with the tropes for me, personally, but the actors make it work.

Jesper/Stable Boy: Honestly? Good for Jesper. The only person on the show who actually managed to get laid onscreen. He deserves it.

Genya/David: Also very cute, though they don't necessarily occupy much brain space. I like that David is this awkward little dork but he's just. So good for Genya. It's very pure and she really needs that.

Darkling/Zoya: Zoya, baby, you deserve better. That said, I wish the show had explored their backstory a bit more. These two would clearly put the T in toxic (Aleksander largely being the one to blame here, of course).

Ivan/Feydor: As someone else put it, these two can be summarized simply by -- be gay and do crimes. They're real cute. If only they weren't Team Darkling.

NON-CANON/ALTERNATE UNIVERSE:

AKA time for some ✨multishipper controversy✨

Darkling/Inej aka DARKEJ: I am extremely biased since I've written for them, but honestly? I would like to convert you all. This pairing has POTENTIAL. The sinner and the saint, the immortal and the ordinary. Also they both have this elegant, shadowy grace to them. Bonus points? Kaz getting a whiff of this nonsense and meticulously planning how to cut up Aleksander into a million tiny little pieces lol.

Darkling/Kaz aka DARKAZ: Sexy. So so sexy. Not in a physical sense (for obvious reasons' on Kaz' end, unless you go AU with that aspect, too) but more a battle of brains. Would inevitably end with Kaz slitting the Darkling's throat, somehow as he should, lmao.

Kaz/Alina aka KAZALINA: I didn't understand this, initially. They barely interacted and Kaz seemed more the type to drag Alina by the kefta than woo her. However, I saw a bunch of people on TikTok attacking someone who made a fantastic AU video edit, (and by a bunch I mean at least two attack videos amassing 10K+ likes total) -- so now I ship it purely out of spite, LOL. It only works in an AU where Inej doesn't exist or Kanej is somehow still endgame, but you know what? The saint and the nonbeliever has some potential. I dig it.

Kaz/Jesper aka KESPER: There's some basis for it in the books. I do prefer them as friends (and come on! Wylan!) but again, I get it.

Jesper/Inej: I... want whatever y'all are smoking bc it must be AMAZING (I kid, I kid). While I can't fully claim to understand it, I love both characters, want nothing but the best for them, and am not entirely opposed to it given the right premise. And Jesper did say he'd kill a man for Inej pretty much without hesitation...

Kaz/Jesper/Inej: OT3 vibes. I haven't read anything with these three just yet but I think, done right, it could be absolutely perfect.

Inej/Alina: I feel like Inej's piety would actually get in the way of a true relationship but I think it's cute as a one-sided crush, Inej on Alina.

Mal/Inej: This one is probably the most random of the Inej ships, but I'm team "Give Inej All The Love" so I'll let this one slide. Also, Amita and Archie low-key have crazy chemistry off-set so again. I get it.

Mal/Kaz: ... does this even exist? Lol I think Mal would definitely drive Kaz up the goddamn wall

Mal/Darkling: Objectively hilarious to me on several counts LMAO (that fight scene at the end of episode 8 PLS). BUT there's a fine line between love and hate... maybe it's not Alina they were after but each other all along

Alina/Genya: Again, god-tier. Also, makes Genya's later betrayal of Alina extra tasty in my opinion. So yeah, add in a dash of heartbreak why not?!?

Alina/Zoya: Enemies to lovers excellence. Though Zoya clearly has some internalized self-hatred to work through (baby WHAT was that half-breed comment?), I don't hate it. Maybe some day...

#shadow and bone #kanej #darklina #malina #helnik #heartrender husbands #six of crows #darkej #zoyalina #genyalina #inejalina #kanejesper

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artaxerxesthegreat · 3 years ago

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Playing with Fire: Part 9

A/N: Everyone in this story is 18+, if minors are mentioned they aren’t getting in any weird, sick, twisted situations with adults. I also use female pronouns for the reader and the reader may be a bit OC. I would also prefer that minors DO NOT interact with this at all. Thank you.

Warnings: Dream based, Actors mixed with characters, College AU!, Mixed universes, Raffey Cassidy stands in as Sprite, Swearing, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, mild violence (?), implied sexual content, mentions of bullying, college strife, MCU/X-Men/Spider-Man/Actors mashed in one universe, self- doubt, insecurities, depression, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family issues, mentions of disabilities, (Please let me know if I’ve missed something too.)

Word count: 4K

“No Druig, you aren’t giving me straight answers, you’re struggling to give me permission, you don’t really want to do this, and that’s fine. It’s your right, I’m pretty sure if this escalates any further you’re going to be eaten alive by your guilt. I don’t want that for you. I love you too much for that.”

——————

I give him some space and he nods his head in thanks, fixing his pants as we start to come down from our adrenaline high, my phone pings alerting me that it’s now at 1%, groaning I put it in my pocket and open the door to hunt for a charger again. Druig takes a few minutes to come out of the bathroom, but when he does he tells me what I knew all along.

“I regret it.” He seems scared like I’m going to lash out at him for saying how he feels.

“I know, aren’t you glad we stopped?”

“Not completely. I don’t regret all of it, just a little bit of it.”

“Regret is regret Druig, don’t justify it on my account. You’re entitled to your feelings.” I continue to rummage around the room for a damn charger.

“Okay… So if I feel like I should tell Sprite about it…?” I still at his words and turn to him with wide eyes, “I- I know! I know it wouldn’t be good- and it would jeopardize not only my relationship with her, but also your friendship with her, and I know how much she looks up to you.”

I wish I could say that I could relax, but I can’t. To make matters worse, as soon as I open my mouth to answer him, Sprite bursts into the bedroom demanding to know what was going on.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?! ARE YOU CHEATING ON ME?! WITH HER?!?!? How could you?! I love you, and this is how you treat me?!” She rips into him and we’re shocked into silence at her accusations. Druig looks a bit scared and I stand up moving away from them slightly before I say anything. That emptiness feeling comes back and I continue to look for a charger leaving Druig to Sprite’s mercy, “You are nothing but a liar and a cheat! You say that you ‘love’ me but you lie!! You aren’t the man I thought you were! How could you come onto my best friend?! MY BEST FRIEND BARRY!!!”

Rolling my eyes I glance over my shoulder, “Sprite, you need to calm down, and take this outside, this isn’t your house.”

Guess that was the wrong thing to say because her anger is now shifted to me,

“AND YOU!!-”

“Hm?”

“WHO the FUCK! DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??!!!-”

“-Excuse me?-”

“-Seducing my boyfriend while I’m not here! Waiting until he’s alone and vulnerable and helpless! You ARE NOT the person I thought you were! I thought you were my FRIEND! It was a mistake thinking I could be a friend to someone like you! You are nothing but a SNEAKY LITTLE BITCH!! You’ve been jealous of me for so long it was only a matter of time before you tried to take my happiness from me! You’re just jealous because I have a successful and healthy relationship, UNLIKE YOU!”

I think I popped a blood vessel as I slowly stand up straight to my full height- I’m not that tall, but Sprite still has to look up at me.

“How dare you.” My voice is steady and calm which causes her to flinch back away from me, stepping forward I continue on, “You have no right to talk to me that way, you clearly don’t know me. I don’t know what fantasy world you’ve been living in that you think I’m going to take this disrespect. You must out of your fucking mind. Another thing, Druig, your ‘boyfriend’ is NOT a thing, he is a person and if it wasn’t for me you two wouldn’t even be together. You couldn’t even talk to him, I had to bring the two of you together and the fact that you think I would try to take your boyfriend away from you is ridiculous! It’s crazy and you’re a stupid dumb hoe to think I would stoop so low; especially since I HAVE a boyfriend who I love.” She tries to apologize but I cut her off, “No I’m talking now, I never get to say how I feel, I can never feel some kind of way, I always have to be ready to hear other people and their problems and no one can her mine; and they think that I am not allowed to have problems. I’m human too, I have bad days, but does anyone want to hear it? NO! And when I try, I'm the issue, I’m the problem. What sense does that make?” Taking a breath I didn’t realize that my calm demeanor was gone and I was shouting, “You want to know what we were doing in this room? He went to use the bathroom, and I was looking for a DAMN CHARGER! When he came out I asked him to help me- FUCK we weren’t even near each other when you busted in here guns a blazzin’, pulling accusations out of your ass! Don’t ever come at me like that again, and if you do it’ll be the last time you ever make a mistake like that again. Am I clear?”

She nods her meekly staring at the floor, stepping to the side, I gesture for them to exit the bedroom, they walk out in shock and silence and my aunt stops us before I can leave the room completely.

“What the hell was all the noise? I know you weren’t shouting in my house, what is going on?” She places her hands on her hips waiting for an explanation. She looks at me standing behind Druig and Sprite and the look I give her tells her everything, I can see the disappointment in her eyes but she steps to the side letting us go by. Jon steps into the hallway with folded arms glaring at us all, I ignore him and just then Ikaris walks through the front door.

“Oh lovely.”

“Hello everyone, sorry about coming back so late, I hope there’s still some food. It smelled wonderful when we came in earlier.” He gives my aunt a hug again, basically buttering her up.

“Oh Ikaris! I’m so glad you made it back, I set aside a plate for you already, go on in-” She cuts herself short as she looks at his neck, “Y/N!”

“What?” I snap at her, Jon gives me another glare but I still ignore him.

“I know he’s your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean you can just give him hickeys! He was at work that’s not professional.”

Ikaris just gives me a condescending smirk and I already know what the deal is, I turn to Druig and Sprite laughing. Walking to the front door I turn and say,

“That wasn’t me.” Going outside I start walking down the walkway down the driveway and up the sidewalk, I don’t know where I’m walking to I just know I need to walk. I can feel tears burning my eyes but they don’t fall because I’m not really sad, I’m just really cold.

“Why didn’t I grab my jacket?” I scold myself, continuing my trek around the neighborhood. I try to think about something but my brain is blank, my family already know he cheats on me, my aunt knows Druig and I did something in her house, and Sprite’s a bitch. The only question is what happens now? Ikaris being a cheater is fine, but him cheating on me in front of my family is grounds for murder. I take out my phone to call Sylvie but it’s dead now, “Fuuuuuccccccccccckah! To be fair I was looking for a charger.”

I keep walking around until I reach the neighborhood gazebo, taking a seat, I look out at the pond and my mind goes back to when I was at school and attended Loki’s Cultural Exchange Program.

“This is all Loki-… I can’t blame him. He brought me there to see other cultures, not to meet Richard. God, I’m a fool.” I place my head in my hands and the floodgates open, “No, just stop fucking crying! He doesn’t deserve my tears! Stop it!”

My pleas were pointless because I just started crying harder- I’m so glad no one is here because this is the most ugly cry I have ever ugly cried. Letting my tears fall freely I think about Druig and how he was so scared of Sprite when she started yelling at him, I know that isn’t Druig, he’d never let someone do that to him, least of all Sprite. I couldn’t help but wonder what she’s done or said to him that makes him like this.

Then my mind goes to Sprite, she was so quick to jump down our throats with accusations when she’s the one who’s been actively cheating on Druig. She seemed extremely shocked at me for standing up for myself; she even knew that Ikaris wasn’t going to propose to me- it was just how sure she was about it that put me off. When I said I didn’t give Ikaris the hickey Druig was more appalled than she was.

“He probably told her he was cheating on me. They are friends.” I sigh defeatedly leaning back against the cold wood, “They’re super close, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell her. She probably knew about Sersi and didn’t even tell me. Why would she? We aren’t even real friends… Best friend, my eye.”

Closing my eyes I wipe my face as I lean my head back, taking a breath I can smell something in the air, and a familiar sort of smell but I can’t put my finger on it. I wrack my brain trying to think about where I’ve smelt it. I realize it’s a mixture of food smells, but one reminds me of Sersi.

“Raspberries. Alright so that’s part of what her perfume smells like, and I know what it smells like so why isn’t my brain letting it go?”

Thinking about the smell again I let the other smells invade my nose. I think back on when I last smelled her perfume on his clothes, it was the night she called to end their affair. For a few weeks I didn’t smell it, but then it came back in a milder form, but not quite the same, “But I know that smell too. But from where?”

Thinking hard, the answer hits me like a freight train. Swiftly standing up I find myself running back to my aunt’s house, my heart is drumming in my ears as her house comes into view, my lungs are starting to hurt from all the cold air pumping through them. Sprinting up the driveway and walkway I throw open the front door and hunt for the culprit, finding her leaning her head on Ikaris’s shoulder I grip her hair with a iron hold and drag her off of the couch, she might’ve been screaming, he might’ve been yelling, my aunt might’ve been trying to calm me down but I’m too furious to care. Slamming her on the living room floor- thankfully my aunt removed the coffee table- I turn to Ikaris and punch him right in the nose causing him to fall back on the couch. Seeing blood trickle from between his fingers I turn back to Sprite who is trying to crawl away from me.

“I’m a sneaky little bitch? I’m trying to steal your boyfriend? I‘M not the person you thought I WAS!? You’ve got some balls, Raffey, you really came into my family's home and tried it, you really did.” Making a fist I’m about to punch her when someone pulls me away from her. Fighting whoever has grabbed me I elbow them in the jaw making them let me go, not once did I take my eyes off of her, she looked relieved that I was being pulled away, but once I hit the person and made my way to her, her eyes were full of fear, “Good, be afraid, when I’m done with you, no one will recognize you. I can’t believe you had the audacity to call Druig a cheater and a liar when you’ve been the one stepping out in your ‘relationship’, if that’s what you can call it. On top of that all you decided to sleep with MY boyfriend- on multiple occasions, and hang out with me like we were cool? If you thought I was going to let this go and let you walk all over me YOU’VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!”

“ENOUGH!” Ikaris turns me around, raising his hand to slap me, but Jon grabs his wrist before he can and twists his arm behind him.

“Oh I wish you would do something that stupid in my house.” Jon threatens holding him tightly, moving him away from me, “Y/N I need you to calm down and look at the couch.”

Confused and angry I do what he says and I see Druig holding his jaw staring off into space, that’s when I replay the last 30 seconds over in my head. The red of Ikaris’ blood, the fear in Sprite’s eyes, the flash of Druig’s jacket as he wraps his arms around my waist, my elbow moving back popping him in the jaw- “Oh shit, Druig. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you.”

I kneel in front of him pulling his hand away from his jaw and I wince at the red bump forming. I look back at his eyes but he’s staring at Sprite with tears filling his eyes, that’s when I realize he heard everything I said to Sprite. Sighing defeatedly I hang my head bumping it against his knee.

“You… You’ve been sleeping with Ikaris?” His voice was so soft, empty and you could hear the betrayal in it. I couldn’t help but close my eyes as a few tears fell onto his knee.

“He wasn’t the only one,” I turn my head to her disturbed by her insouciant attitude, “don’t act so surprised Barry, I’m not stupid, I see how you look at Y/N. You aren’t very subtle.” She chuckles dryly.

“Don’t let that be the reasoning you have for sleeping with me.” Ikaris scoffs shaking Jon off of him, “We’ve been fucked around for years, don’t water it down.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but we stopped once you decided that Y/N was too ‘precious and wholesome’ to cheat on… And then you met Sersi, and there was no way you were gonna have Sersi and not me too.”

My aunt lets out a scoff of disbelief at Raffey’s words closing her eyes she shakes her head pointing in the direction of the front door, “Jon.”

“Yes, mom?”

“Take out the trash,” Opening her eyes she glares darkly at both Ikaris and Sprite, “both of them please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Roughly picking up Raffey by her arm he escorts her next to Ikaris and gripping the back of his jacket he leads them out of the house. No one moves or breathes until we hear the front door slam shut, walking back into the living room he watches everyone with caution, and by everyone I mean Druig.

He’s still staring at the spot Raffey was sitting in with tears rolling down his face, but he doesn’t have any expression, it was very unsettling. Shifting myself in front of him I gently shake his knee.

Nothing.

Shaking his knee again this time a little harder he barely blinks at the motion, “Druig?” He raises a brow trying to pull himself from his stupor letting out a sound similar to a hum. Giving him a few more seconds I call his name again, “Druig. Are you alright?”

That’s when his attention is brought to me and there is contempt in his eyes, I shrink back from his gaze feeling small and scared. I can't figure out why I feel scared until he says,

“You knew. You knew she was cheating on me with my cousin and you didn’t tell me.”

“I- I-”

“Don’t. You don’t get to talk.” Shutting my mouth, he continues, “You’re no better than they are, you lied to me, you were supposed to be my friend and you didn’t tell me something that important about my girlfriend?! And don’t say you were sparing me from pain, because we both know I was going to find out sooner or later. I had my suspicions- yes, but you as my FRIEND was supposed- I can’t even look at you right now. I don’t know why I’m still here, you couldn’t even tell me my own cousin was cheating on you, why would you tell me Raffey was cheating on me with him either? You are unbelievably selfish and you only care about yourself and what you want. It was a mistake to come here and what happened earlier was a mistake too.”

I locked my jaw at his words trying not to let myself cry, but when he said what happened with us was a mistake I couldn’t help the swell of tears that started pricking my eyes, tilting my head down I blinked them away.

I see him stand from the couch out of my peripheral and I fall back on my ass giving him space to move away from me, which he does happily. I try to find the words to say, but I know it’s pointless; all the thoughts swirling in my head I can’t come up with anything good enough to tell him, so I sit there staring at the floor, from the side of my eye I can see him walk back to me and he crutches down next to me. My breathing is shallow as he calmly and quietly says,

“Don’t ever talk to me ever again. I want nothing to do with you, and if you ever show your face in front of me again you will want to make sure you aren’t alone. I know your phone is shit, but when you get the chance, block and delete my number.” He’s about to turn away when he stops short and turns back to me, “And don’t you EVER say my name EVER again. Either of them.”

He doesn’t wait for me to say anything, he just gets up and leaves me there on the floor. I don’t blink or breathe until I hear the front door close. Swiftly I stand up and try to walk to the bathroom but Jon blocks my path.

“Let me go by, Jon.”

“No.”

“I need to use the bathroom asshole.”

“No you don’t, sit down.”

“Jon.” I hear my aunt’s voice behind me and he steps out of my way letting me go by. I’m about to go into the bedroom that caused all of this drama, and I opt to go to the basement bathroom, thankfully no one is down there and I reach the bathroom, but not before I tear rolls down my cheek. Closing the door I shakily brace myself on the counter and look at my reflection.

Broken, haggard, wasted, used, and abused.

I’m so exhausted and tired of everything I let the tears flow freely, but this time there is no ugly crying, just tears rolling down. I think back at everything that’s happened over the past 3 years; the good and the bad and it doesn’t bother me anymore. What does bother me is Drui- his last words. The betrayal and anger in his words, the finality of it all makes me tighten my grip on the counter trying to not fall, I look back at my reflection.

Breaker, waster, user, and abuser.

He was right. I should’ve told him, I should’ve been better, I should’ve risen above it all- but no. I made up my mind to use him to get what I wanted from him; he was my forbidden fruit and I couldn’t wait to hold him in the palm of my hand.

The forbidden fruit is sweet and savory, it shines beautifully and entices you, calling out to you to just take one small bite. The initial bite is other worldly, it hits all the right spots, fills your appetite and sates the hunger, but it still leaves you wanting more; so you take more and more, once you feel full you look back at the leftovers and that gorgeous, delicious, delicate fruit is full of worms, decay and bitterness.

I lost so much in such a short amount of time because of my selfishness and I’ll never be able to get it back. Sylvie was right, I can’t handle the weight of my guilt, I feel so sick, my stomach is churning so much that I quickly turn to the toilet and let everything out. Now I just dry heaving, my own spit makes me feel sick, couching I try to rein myself in. Taking a deep breath I flush the toilet and clean myself up. Looking at my reflection one more time, more thoughts flood my mind as more tears flood my vision, a knock on the door pulls me out before another wave of emotions fully takes over.

“Are you alright in there?” Lizzie asks from the other side of the door, I can hear the worry and concern in her voice. She probably thinks she started all of this when she asked about a potential proposal.

“Y-ye,” I cough a bit and clear my throat at the sound of the scratchiness of my own voice, “…Yeah…”

“…Y/N?” I don’t have to see her face to know that she doesn’t believe me.

“What do you think? I feel like shit! So much happened tonight, I lost my best friend, my boyfriend and the one person I actually cared about all in one night. Also I’ve been crying like a fool and for what? I deserved everything that happened to me, I’m no better than Raffey or Richard. What they did to me, is what I did to Dru… him!” Taking a second to compose myself I continue, “I’ve had people not like me, hell I’ve had people come up to me and say that they hate me, but nothing hurts more than what he said- we weren’t even friends when we met the first time! I hated his stupid, stupid face, and his stupid smirk that usually quirks up on the left side of his mouth, I hated how cool he was with everyone, I hated how to be someone, you had to have him talk to you. Do you know how annoying that is? No one really bothers to remember who you are unless you’ve talked to or been around the ‘famous hot person’ in some capacity. Fuckin’ annoying! I hated how well we got along, how knowledgeable he was about things people take for granted.- Do you know he listens to musicals? DOES THAT LOOK LIKE A PERSON WHO?!-…” Pushing off of the counter I lean my forehead against the bathroom door, “…Liz… Why does it hurt so bad? I- we- we didn’t even date, we danced around it until we both became unattainable, even then we were JUST friends. That’s all we ever were… Friends… So why does it feel like I’m the one who handed him my heart and he broke it and crushed it into dust? Why does it hurt more than Ikaris’ lies and cheating? Or- or Sprite’s two faced behavior? Why am I so broken now?”

The silence that followed my questions almost makes me think that she’s already left me because she can’t really handle such intense emotions. She becomes awkward and quiet when people break down and pour out their feelings, she just can’t understand it most times making people think she’s emotionless like a robot, but she isn’t. She just has a hard time relating, most times she leaves to find someone else to help the situation, and that’s probably what she did. She knows I’m not fine- not by a long shot, and went to go get her mom to talk to me.

The quiet is so deafening that I almost missed her 4 small words. She said them with so much respect and reverence that I was sure she was talking to someone else.

“Because you love him.”

So much ugly crying.

So much.

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So I thought I had this scheduled to post, but I didn’t 🥲, so sorry guys.

Anywho, this is a bit sad, I’m sorry—- not really, because it’ll get better. Don’t worry ❤️

@aquanova99 @tompetersebbuckyhazleo @treaclesquirrel @sokazuallycruel

#druig #eternals #fanfiction #college au #druig x reader #druig x you #playing with fire #angst #marvel #enemies to friends to lovers #playing with fire part 9 #so angsty #ikarus #sprite #marvel x reader #marvel x you

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fairymadnessyeah · 4 years ago

Text

Roman’s Nightmare

Summary: Roman could never have imagined that leaving Remus with Logan would lead to THIS.

Notes: This is a Modern Setting AU, where I will put all happy, funny one-shots. No angst.

AO3 Link

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"Thanks for letting me stay here, dear brother. We are going to have loads of fun~," with the way his twin brother was smiling, Roman doubted it.

"Just... try not to disgust my roommates," Roman sighs. "You are only staying until you finish moving into your new home. So don't get too comfortable," he reminds the other.

Remus and Roman might have been brothers, but neither one of them liked the other very much. They looked the same, but the two couldn't be any more different. From childhood to adulthood, the two were always at each other's throats. Roman had been glad the day he was able to afford to leave Remus' side. And now, he had to house his thot of a twin brother for a few days until his stuff arrived. Great.

Why couldn't his roommates say no? His father would have left it alone if the others weren't okay with it. But noooo, Patton had to be his dad-self and house the STD rat bastard Remus. And Logan thought it was a 'logical solution', so he saw no problem with it. And Virgil had accepted, just not to contradict the other two. No matter what Roman told them about Remus, they had accepted.

Even if he told them about the knife collection, the serial-killers trading cards, the time he pushed a man off a window, or his taxidermy hobby. They thought he was inventing it all. Too bad, he wasn't. Remus did all of that and more. And he couldn't wait for the other to realize their mistake after a night of him staying with them.

The two brothers finally arrive at Roman's flat, and they carry Remus' suitcase to the apartment. Their living space was simple. Just a kitchen and living room that had two hallways on each side. At the end of each hallway was a bathroom, and two rooms on each side. Roman and Patton had the right, and Virgil and Logan had the left. Remus would sleep on the living room. Roman didn't want him anywhere near his awards, not after he melted the others when they were six.

The two going inside, and find Logan sitting on the couch reading. When he notices the two come in, he stands up and fixes his necktie and glasses before coming to them and introducing himself.

"Good evening. I am Logan Logika. I believe you are Roman's brother. I hope our accommodations are to your liking," he stretches his hand towards the new guy.

Remus stares for a few seconds, and then licks his hand with a grin, and shakes Logan's hand. "Remus Nazione!" he exclaims.

Logan stares at his now wet hand, and then at Remus judgingly. He quickly shakes it off with a shrug, and steps into the kitchen for a minute. Roman, however, had just saw a golden opportunity with which he could get rid of Remus. If Logan, who was the rational one out of them, saw how irrational Remus was, then he wouldn't want him in their apartment, and he would kick him out. And achieving that would be easy. The only thing he had to do was let Logan spend more than an hour with Remus.

With the idea on his mind, the red wearing man takes out his phone and makes it look as if he just got a message. "Oh, no! This is horrible! Outrageous!" he exclaims dramatically.

"Roman, is there a problem?" Logan asks, carrying the plate of cookies Patton had done to welcome Remus.

"Did dad finally tell you he found you in a dumpster and feeding off a racoon with rabies?" Remus grins at the unpleasant image.

"No. It's the director of the play. There has been a wardrove malfunction, and they need me there ASAP," he lies, and watches as Logan nods and Remus squints at him suspiciously. "But I can't possibly leave. Remus is my brother and my responsibility. I can't abandon him to his luck," he says, performing his damned best.

Remus murmurs something (not like you haven't before), and then Logan falls right in his trap. "Well, if it is important, then I believe I can keep Remus company for you, Roman. It will be no problem for me," he will be regretting that statement later.

"Really, Logan? You are a saviour, A hero. Call me if you need anything," he is out of the door in an instant.

Was it rude to use Logan as his space goat? Maybe. Was it necessary? Absolutely. Remus and his unfiltered no-shame persona would scare the crap out of Virgil, and it would taint Patton's innocence. No, this was for the good of their house-hold and sanity. Now, he just had to find a place to hide and wait for Logan's desperate call for help.

But where to?

Oh, he knew just the place.

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So, Virgil laughed in his face at his plan. It made Roman want to think twice when choosing a place to hide. Virgil had his own art studio, separate from the apartment. It was at the attic of an old building, where the haunted house was held every year on Halloween. He never understood why Virgil didn't simply live here since it was one of the edgiest places on earth. Virgil fitted right in there. But then again, the emo was a strange man in on itself.

At the end of the day, the two went back to their home and Roman still hadn't received the awaited call from Logan. As they reach the entrance of the building, they find Patton there. The three go up to the flat, and find Logan sitting on the couch with a book, wearing his pyjamas.

"Oh, Hello, everybody. I hope you had an efficient day at work today," he says, separating his eyes from the pages for just a second.

"Hey, Logan. Where's Remus?" Roman asks, worried the lunatic of his brother is not within stopping range.

"Oh, do not worry, Roman. Your brother is alright. He is sleeping in my room, he was tired," Logan explains.

"Oh. Alright. He didn't give you any trouble?" Roman asks.

"No, he didn't. I am actually quite fond of him. His knowledge is quite interesting, though a bit unusual. But I am not one judge on the interests of others," Logan says and turns to the next page.

"Great," Roman says through his teeth. He can't believe his plan didn't work out.

Virgil grins at him, in an 'I-told-you-so' way, and Patton, getting things ready to cook dinner. He is about to start cooking, when he notices something on Logan's neck.

"Oh, Logan did something happen? You have a bruise on your neck," he says and gets closer to look at it, before going to get the first aid kit.

"There is no need to worry, Patton. I am fine, it is not a bruise," Logan tries to calm him down.

"Yeah, Pat, that's not a bruise, that is a hickey," Virgil adds when he takes a closer look.

"A hickey!?" Roman exclaims.

"Yes, Roman. A hickey is a red-mark in the skin, usually left behind after the said place has been bitten and sucked on," Logan explains.

"Why- what- who-," Roman stammers.

"I'm sorry, Roman, but you need to finish your sentences, if you want me to answer them," Logan says.

"Wait," the actor suddenly stops, as the reality dawns on him. "No. No no no no no no no no no..." he chants with a disgusted face, as he moves around the apartment. He goes around the living room and then goes to his room.

"Should we check on him- oh, wait, he is coming back," Patton says, as he watches the show next to Virgil.

"... no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no, no. No. NO! Logan! Did you- did you sleep with Remus?" Roman asks, fearing the answer.

"No, Roman, I did not sleep with your brother, nor did I have intercourse with him," Roman sighs relieved. "However, we did have an intense kissing," Princey feels nauseous again. "Your brother appears to be interested in me. So, if I could have your permission, I would like to-"

"No! I am not giving you permission to have sex with my brother! Find someone else if you need d*ck that much!" Roman interrupts.

"Roman, language!" Patton exclaims.

"You misunderstand me, Roman. I only wish to treat your brother with the utmost respect, and take him out to dinner before we move further with the relationship..."

Roman didn't hear any more as he melted onto the floor in confusion. How did it come to this? How could such a flawless plan become such a mess? As he stays in the floor, he can hear Patton move to cook dinner and a door opening. As he looks up, he sees his brother jump up to Logan and ask him about the next D-appointment. That makes him moan in pain again. Virgil is the only one who takes pity of him, and starts patting his head.

#sanders sides #intrulogical #remus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #creativitwins #one-shots #ao3 link #fan fiction

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