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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year ago

Text

Big Bad x AFAB!Princess!Reader || Smutshot

Plot:

You're holding a hand tight over your mouth to keep from screaming, the pleasure of having your cunt stretched and pummeled all too much for you. // "Next time you come ta the cottage... you'll be able to scream as loud as you want. I don't care what anyone thinks, listenin' in. They're gonna think I'm fucken eating you whole with how loud I'll train ya to be for me. I wanna hear those squeals~"

Basically, Big Bad pulls through on his promise from last time (in Part 1).

Warnings: Smut with feelings- but when the smut comes it is DIRTY. B takes you like bitch in heat, pretty much literally. Dirty talk, doggy style (But not anal, I'm not into it sorry), rough, on the floor, nuts in you, a few moments of edging, begging, knotting, etc.

Tagging: @marinerainbow. Yes, more! XD

The next time you are 'kidnapped' (Though the word had lost its true meaning at this point. You've been very happy to be taken by your wolves for some time now, and this time was definitely not exempt- even if you were nervous for this one considering what happened the last time you and Big Bad were... in the visinity... ), you were curious as to how Big Bad would feel about you now. Is it possible that he lost interest, now? Now that he had had you? Isn't that a thing, with villains?...

But- no. He was more then your villain wasn't he?? You were good friends! Despite your rolls, at least, you thought you were friends.

Maybe more, now. Hopefully-

But... there is still a nagging worry that's been dancing around in the corner of your mind since he left you that night. You thought, because he didn't turn around to glance at you one more time as he disappeared back into the woods when he left (Going back to his home. Leaving you to yours. It felt wrong that they werent the same), that it meant... maybe, you didn't mean much to him afterall. Not after-...

You also thought that was silly, but- Edward always looked back whenever he left you. Perhaps it was a prince thing, but goddamnit it fucked with you.

When you noticed that it was just him - Big Bad, - , no Granny and no Kiddy around to kidnap you with him like they always are- you become even more confused. What? But- Where were they? The moment Big Bad sets you down on the uneven cobblestone ground outside the dark old cottage that the wolves live in deep in these woods, you start fiddling with the tips of your fingers; picking at the skin and peering around awkwardly, as he reaches a thick arm past you and chucks the door open. For you. "Um- "

"Yeah?"

"Where are, uh, um- where are the guys?"

Big Bad's shiny canine-eyes, inhuman eyes, flicker down to your smaller form with a dark and primal grin that all of a sudden sets your insides on fire. Your lips fall open. "Got rid of 'em. Figured this time we might wanna be alone... " For a second the dirty, needful way he was looking at you softens the tiniest bit, and you watch his ears flatten half-way against his head sweetly- if Big Bad could be sweet. Your head tilts to the side, confused again, but his next word - as gruff and growly as it still sounded, - cleared it up for you. Your eyes widen. "right?" ... He was checking.

"... mhm- " Yes. Words fail you, so you just nod; eager and pleased and aching to reach for him. Feel him under your hands again, his fur and his fat. Already theirs a throbbing heat starting to blossom in your lower belly, excited to have him touch you the same way as he did the last time. Use you again, like you remember. Inside your chamber at the palace, during the awful time you have to spend just waiting around for your story to start up all over again, when you're supposed to 'enjoy your happy ending', you couldn't get it out of your head.

Since you and Edward don't share a room with eachother, not even on that first night after the your story finishes, you would lay there flat on your back in that beautiful canopied bed wondering where Big Bad was right then. You could see that dank cottage and you actually wished you were there, not in the palace though it's beautiful and comfortable. Was he still thinking about you? you would think, too, cheeks getting hot. And when you would let your eyes fall shut, you would picture it again; the way Big Bad's cock felt stretching you and making you feel full-up, and your heartbeat would speed up inside your chest and your toes would curl.

You tried to feel it again by yourself, stroking your sensitive folds to thoughts of him, memories, and dipping your own fingers in while picturing those deep burnt acorn coloured eyes smirking at you like always does, but it wasn't the same.

When Big Bad's clawed paw wraps slowly around your arm now like he's just reminding himself you're really really truly back, and he leans into your face and you feel his breath, you're afraid your heart just might take off with how hard it's beating becwuse of him. His eyes wonder up and down your body and he swallows, growls, and then returns to your eyes with a sharp smirk. "... I thought so."

That makes you grin; a bright, toothy one. "You did??"

"Mhm... c'mon."

You don't need to be told twice, feeling Big Bad's paw move to the small of your back feather-light, you fly into the house like his touch gave you wings. Before you turn around, the door closes and the two of you are plunged into darkness, except for the little streams of daylight coming in through the cracks in the closed window curtains- well, what daylight manages to first get in through the trees overhead at least. So, despite daylights efforts, it is still quite dark in here.

You can still at least see his broad shape in the dark though, and he can definitely see you (And if he couldn't then he could sniff you out. Or he could hear you breathing) as he finds you effortlessly, body colliding finally back with yours. God you missed him. God you missed him! You have missed Big Bad every time you've been taken away for years now, but all of a sudden its really hitting you. You hate being away.

A surprised gasp escapes you as his arms wrap around you in the dark, your own gliding up his wide, warm chest until your finger tips glide along his furry shoulders. Your palms find the hill of his neck and you get up on your tippy toes- aiming a kiss blindly towards his sensitive snout. Now that its dark, you feel more confident.

More needy. More willing to show it.

A chuckle escapes him as your lips touch his nose all-soft, and you feel it through his belly and against your chest which makes you smile again. "You're an eager little princess this time, huh?... sweet,.. "

"I missed you." You whisper matter o' factly, just telling him because its true. You don't want to keep it to yourself.

"Hmm? And what'd ya miss? Huh? My... " You can feel a clawed finger entangle itself in a thick strand of your hair. "Wit?"

"Yes... "

"My... " He gives it a gentle tug, and it is the oddest thing; The feeling blooms into something tingly that rushes straight down to your core. You let out a quipped sigh and he breathes out a growl. "Roguish looks?... my sense of humour?... c'mon sweetheart, you're gonna haveta' give it to me straight."

Your eyes are round and shiny in the dark, your hands on his shoulders again as you tilt your head to the side. You know he's after something specific, he's devious and he wants to make you admit how much you've wanted his knot again these past few weeks and make you beg for him- and you have wanted that and you will beg- but mostly you just missed your friend. You always miss him when you're over there; he's your best friend. And you just wwnt him to know. "I just... missed you."

For a moment Big Bad doesn't respond, just stares at you. It makes you nervous that you cant see his expression but when you feel his paws clench tighter around your waist- and worse, the hot appendage straining against loose-fitting pants and the inside of your thigh, you figure you must have said the right thing. When he talks, his deep-growly-voice is so impossibly huskier and lost to lust that you know his eyes must match. You'd love to see them. The next time, you think with a little elevated smirk, you'll have him fuck you somewhere light- so that you can see clearly how he looks at you with his thick cock sunk inside you. "... fucking hell pup you're gonna kill me."

Spurred on by the dark and the way his voice is full of lust, you graze your fingers down over his chest until your touch reaches the rope keeping the old fabric around his hips under his belly, and slip your fingertips just beneath the waistband. You could just keep going, and feel it again... the idea is enticing, his heavy cock in your hand. "... how would I do that?" You ask, eyes downcast and head full of fuzz and hot thoughts.

Before you can get any further, Big Bad's large clawed paws are digging into your hips and dragging you against his still-clothed cock, making you gasp and let go of him; biting your lip at the vague outline of that thickness you've been dreaming about against your puffy pussy again. Finally. "... you're fucken perfect, doll. I'm gonna mate you tonight."

"You're gonna- "

"Make you mine, little princess." He cuts you off and clarifies, a sharp claw touching into the delicate skin beneath your chin and nudging your face up to look at him leering over your form. You can just see the light reflecting off of his eyes. "Officially. How d'ya feel about that? I'm thinkin' that's what you want... Ta have a monster split ya so good you're never good fa anyone else again. Have me keep ya here and not let the fucken prince take ya away from me again- break the rules for ya. Keep ya with me, keep ya safe, keep you happy and keep ya filled like a needy little bitch... hm? Y/N? Whadaya think?"

"... please." You can't think of a thing else to say.

"That's what I thought."

You come to find that when Big Bad says he'll do something, he does it. He didn't even move you to the bedroom you know there is in this cottage; he just whipped you around like a doll and shoved you down to the ground, on your stomach. It makes you feel like a helpless victim as he pulled up your skirts and took out his leaking cock- rubbing the precum-covered tip all over your sloppy wet entrance from behind. The feeling has you emitting choked sighs.

When he slips in ball-deep, filling you up completely in one go unlike the last time when he took things slow for you (this time he didnt bother, and you want to thank him for it. You were more then ready and you were already clenching around nothing), your fingernails dig into the wooden floor. "Ah- " It feels so good, your pussy is already squeezing him tight and very sensitive to the feeling of his heavy balls grazing your skin.

"Little pup, I toldya last time- the next time I fucked ya you'd get ta be as loud as ya want. So- " Like you're his to use, his to pose and spread out just how he wants to see you, he uses two sharp-clawed paws to pick up your hips and set your knees against the wood nice and far away from each other, your lips stretched open wide around his thick, fat cock the further he stretches your thighs from eachother. Sighing, again, you lean down to the floor and rest your forehead against your forearm; arching your back like a cat in the sun equally as much for him and for yourself. You neeeed him... "Lemme know what I'm doin' right, yeah?~ Heheh."

Then, having mounted you like a dog, a bitch, Big Bad starts to pound you like one. And you do as you're told, sticking your fingernails so deeply into the wood that you make indentations that you'll look for again later, chewing your bottom lip like a toy, and huffing and pleading (Please- please- please- please- oh, please- ) along with his every hard thrust up into your leaking hole. Just like the last time, he loses himself to the feeling of your hot little cunt wrapped around his fat cock.

When he bends over your back, his heavy body weighing you down and making it harder to breath (which just hieghtens your pleasure, like its hump or die), the heel of his paw lands heavily next to your hand in the wood and he starts humping against you even faster, even rougher, his nose finding its way to your neck purely by feel alone; sniffing hard at your scent and your sweat. Memorising you this way. Sure, he already knew you from before, from all the times he had to hunt you down when you were lost in the woods and he kidnapped you away from your prince, but not this way. Not full of his cock, covered in his scent. This you was his, actually his. He had imagined it before, filling you -special you, - with his pups but this was real. This was you really being his. Willingly, enthusiastically, desperately his.

He never wanted to be without your sweet cunt wrapped around him again. He was finally maling you his and he wanted you to always be on his fat cock now. He did not want to let you go, again.

He knew that was an impossibility, but he could make this one last. Until you came crawlin' back to him for more like a good, loyal bitch, at least.

"Louder," He growls into your ear, sharp teeth then scraping against the soft soft skin of your neck. A little princesses neck. He cannot wait to mark this skin up so bad you cannot be considered anything but his, by anyone. Especially your dumb little prince. - He'll get to that, though. "I want 'em ta hear your pretty screamin' at the palace. I want 'em ta think I'm rippin' you apart."

He's furiously ramming into your hole now when suddenly he stops- just grinding his groin tediously into your slick, drippy, sensitive heat and making you whine. Needy. Desperate. "Please... please, B- I- I need y- "

"Whadaya need?"

"You... please... pleasepleaseplease... " God, he's just torturing you. You're crying, tears actually creeping out the corners of your eyes and sliding down your hot cheeks. You can taste the salt in your mouth. The pleasure is so slow, so drawn out between your thighs, you're full but he's only rubbing himself against you now- edging you. Teasing you. Training you. How he can even keep himself together like he is right now with the way you're wringing him out with your cunt, you have no clue because you're about to explode, pressing your forehead into your forearm. Your forehead massaging your forearm as Big Bad's movements roll your body.

"Who am I? What am I?"

"... Wolf... my- my... mate... g- please!"

That's the breaking point. Yes he is your fucking mate. And you are his. "Scream." He tells you then, raising up into his knees again and starting to suddenly slam between your folds harder then ever. Every thrust has him pulling out almost all the way, almost leaving you empty each time before his groin presses against the back of your puffy cunt and your ass again when he goes back in. Fucking you braindead like a pathetic little pup.

His cock pummels into you, stretching your inexperienced little hole as far as it can go it seems, and making your legs tremble with pleasure as you arch your ass back into him more. You didn't know he could get like this, almost feral- your intimidating, yet surprisingly well-mannered Big Bad who was destroying your drooling cunt because he can not control himself inside you. A scream rips out of you, your fingers ball into a fist and your eyes squeeze shut as the pleasure comes to an overwhelming head. "Big Baad!!"

Suddenly he nuts, blowing that hot feeling inside you once again just like last time, which sends you over the edge- making you a sloppy, creamy, destroyed mess on the floor with his knot still stuck in you. His cum oozes out of you around his knot, drooling down your thighs and to the wood while your tears dry up on your cheeks.

After a few moments of heavy breathing on both your ends, Big Bad comes back to reality first and leans over you once again to nose up your spine until he reaches your neck. While you're coming down from that great high, he gently rubs your little cunt around his knot to calm you down while breathing in your sweet scent from your neck.

"... that's was good, Y/N... princess... real good... you're all mine now, yeah?... I promise I wont let 'em take ya away again this time... "

#Big Bad x Readeer #Big Bad Wolf x Readeer #Happily N'ever After x Reader #Smut #Wolf #Big Bad x Reader Smutshot #Big Bad Wolf x Reader Smutshot

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

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Project V: As Seen On P***H**

Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to reenact something that he saw on a certain website.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Cock rubbing against pussy lmfao

A/N: Another filthy piece for these two sksksks

Project V Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“You keep on glancing at me, Bucky. What do you want?”

You kept your attention on your notes as you called out Bucky. The two of you were in the library, it was a little past seven in the evening already but you needed to finish the paper you were doing.

Bucky exhaled out loud and surveyed the surroundings before moving around the table to sit beside you. You looked at him suspiciously, the growing smile on his face giving away that he had something mischievous in mind.

“What?” You asked again.

Bucky bit his lip and shook his head in sudden embarrassment, “Nevermind. I’m shy.”

You slapped his arm, “Just tell me!” You hissed, stretching your neck to see whether the grumpy librarian heard.

She didn’t and kept on rearranging the books on the opposite aisle.

“Okay, so you know how we’ve been comfortable with each other.” Bucky trailed.

“Where is this going, Buck?” You asked monotonously.

Bucky giggled as he tried to compose himself. He was turning red all over and you instantly knew what he was thinking about. It definitely had something to do with his weird ass kinks.

“I’m not gonna peg you, Buck.” You said.

“The fuck, I don’t...I’m not into that, okay?! It was just one weird dream. Can we please move on from that?” He defended himself.

You snorted. Bucky dreamt about you pegging him one time and you never stopped teasing him about it. It was funny as hell, because Bucky called you in the middle of the night to talk about his dream and he couldn’t get over how weird it felt.

“Then what do you want?” You asked, setting aside your notes.

Bucky licked his lips and inhaled, “I watched this porn the other night where the girl still had her panties on and the guy was just you know...rubbing his dick against her pussy until he came. I don’t know, something about pushing aside her panties got to me. I was thinking that maybe—“

“Yes, okay. I’m in.”

Ever since Project V, you and Bucky have been going at it as often as possible. Needless to say, you were one horny bitch and match that with Bucky’s libido, well, you’d get two best friends humping at each other like fucking rabbits.

Bucky did seem to ruin other guys for you because damn, he knows how to turn you on. Except for the times when he’s being a dumbass but whatever, he always gave you one orgasm after another.

“Wanna go at it now?” Bucky whispered, pupils darkening as soon as you agreed to his proposal.

“I’m wearing my granny panties, can I at least change first?” You asked with no shame.

“For the love of fucking, can you please get rid of your granny panties?” Bucky complained.

“They’re comfy. Besides, I never complained about your Spongebob boxers.” You snapped back and started putting away your things.

As soon as the both of you arrived in Bucky’s dorm, bags were dropped and jackets were thrown around. Bucky wasted no time to push you against the door, kissing you sloppily as he fumbled with the button of your jeans.

“We gotta be fast, Buck. We have a class in an hour.” you reminded him, shimmying out of your jeans before clawing at Bucky’s shirt.

He merely grunted in response as he took off his shirt followed by his own pair of pants. Your shirt and bra were removed in the process and the next thing you knew, Bucky was already throwing you on top of his bed.

“Wanna bet?” he asked against your lips before kissing you. “Twenty dollars I get to make you cum in fifteen.” he said, biting your lower lip before pressing kisses against your throat.

You sighed, stretching your neck to give Bucky more access. A moan left your lips when his fingers pinched your nipples, making your back arch from his bed.

“No penetration. You can’t use your mouth or fingers. Just your cock rubbing against my pussy. If you cum within the first fifteen minutes, I win.” you reminded him with a glare. “You good with that?” you asked.

“Only if you let me skip the condom.” Bucky said as he looked at you with puppy eyes. “Please?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fine, but buy me a Plan B after this. I don’t want no little Barnes in my fucking tummy anytime soon.”

Bucky grinned and pumped his fist in the air, “I’ll buy you birth control pills too so I can fuck you raw next time.”

“Jesus.” you huffed out.

Bucky smirked and sat up, “It’s just me, Bucky.” he said as he knelt down on the bed, bending your legs up and spreading them wide open.

“Twenty dollars.” you repeated. “Seal the deal. Let’s pinky swear on it.” you said as you lifted your body up to twist your pinky around Bucky’s.

After the pinky promise, Bucky spread your thighs further apart and carefully pushed your white cotton panties aside, moaning out loud at the sight of your glistening pussy. You snorted at his reaction and covered your mouth with your hand, throwing your head back as you bit back your laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, pushing his boxer briefs down to reveal his aching cock.

“You’re so fucking horny.” you said. “You should see yourself.” you quickly added.

Bucky rolled his eyes at you until he hatched an idea, “Maybe I should. Let’s make an amateur video next time.”

You were about to protest to his idea when he immediately slid his cock against your folds, your complaint quickly dying on your tongue when he started to tap the head of his cock against your clit. You fell back onto the bed and arched your back, wanting to feel more friction as your pussy clenched on nothing.

“Fuck, Bucky...” you whimpered.

Bucky kept his gaze on his cock as he rubbed it against your folds, watching how your wetness was gushing out of your entrance as he teased you. His own pre-cum was mixing against your juices, making it easier for him to slide against your cunt. The sight was just as stimulating as the ones he’d seen on PornHub, but it felt so much fucking better now that he was actually experiencing what it’s like.

“Goddamn, baby.” Bucky grunted. “So fucking wet.” he said through gritted teeth as he sped up his face.

His free hand held onto your panties, keeping it aside as he guided his cock along your folds. Bucky pressed the tip against your entrance, teasing you by prodding a bit before pulling back to let it slide up to your clit.

“Bucky, ten minutes...” you warned. “Ten minutes and I get my twenty bu— oh!” you almost squealed when Bucky started moving his cock from side to side, stimulating your clit even more.

You wanted to kick Bucky’s face when he smirked, knowing that he was working you up. Throwing a pillow on your face, you started grinding your hips to get as much friction.

“Take off the pillow, wanna see your face.” Bucky demanded, grabbing the pillow and throwing it aside.

He started thrusting his hips, placing your panties over his dick as he continued to rub it against your pussy. The fabric only added more pleasure for Bucky, as it kept his cock pressed tightly against your sex which was soaking wet.

Bucky sped up his pace, pressing his cock harder against your lips until you could feel yourself approaching your orgasm. You tried to hold back, not wanting to lose the bet. And so you decided to do something that might throw Bucky off and make him finish first.

“Love it when you rub your cock against my pussy like that, Bucky.” you moaned out loud, your hands caressing your sides until they reach your tits, squeezing them together.

Bucky was unable to hold back his groan, “I fucking hate you, I know what you’re trying to do.” he panted, slowing down his pace.

You bit your lower lip and tilted your head as you looked up at Bucky through your lashes, “Come on, Bucky. Keep rubbing, feels so good when I feel the head of your cock press down on my clit. I get so fucking wet.” you moaned again, this time letting you fingers play with your nipples.

“Dammit...” Bucky huffed out, pushing your panties aside again and actually ripping them in the process with how harsh he held onto them.

“Did you just-- oh fuck! Right there, fuck yeah. Don’t stop, Bucky!” you squealed when Bucky rubbed your pussy just the right way.

“Gonna make you cum first and I’m gonna get my twenty bucks.” Bucky said, watching how much wetness was gushing out of your entrance, drenching his cock in its entirety.

Determined to win, you slightly sat up and leaned your weight against your elbows. You could feel Bucky’s cock throb against your cunt, his hips stuttering and the veins on his neck bulging. He was close, so fucking close.

You were just as close to winning the bet so you pulled the big guns and placed two fingers into your mouth, sucking on them while keeping your eyes on Bucky.

You moaned out loud, just enough to catch Bucky’s attention and when his head snapped towards yours, you hollowed your cheeks as you sucked on your fingers. The sight was enough to make Bucky cum first; he groaned and growled as ropes of his cum began to spurt on your pussy.

“Goddammit!” Bucky grunted, both in bliss and disappointment that he had lost the bet.

You started chuckling in victory, falling back down on the bed and ignoring the growing throb in your pussy since you haven’t finished yet.

“I win!” you declared.

Bucky ran a hand through his locks as he plopped down next to you, “All that for just twenty bucks?” he asked.

You sat up and shrugged, “Twenty bucks is twenty bucks.” you said and looked down in between your legs, “Are you going to finish me or what?” you asked.

Bucky snorted, “Bold of you to assume I’d finish you after I lost the bet.” he said, reaching towards the box of tissue on top of his bedside table and handing it to you.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself then.” you said, cleaning up yourself before heading towards the bathroom. “You owe me an underwear.”

With twenty minutes left before your next class, you and Bucky have showered and cleaned up.

“Why is this so thick?” you complained when Bucky let you wear one of his boxer briefs.

“Stop whining unless you want to attend our next class without any underwear on.” he said and picked up your jeans from the floor, throwing it on your face.

Just as when you were about to wear your jeans, Bucky’s bedroom door opened and Steve stepped in. Both you and Bucky froze, not knowing how to explain the situation when Steve turned to you and slowly realized what was going on.

He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again before he let out a defeated sigh.

“I don’t know what’s going on but may I respectfully ask...why on earth are you wearing Bucky’s boxer briefs?”

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#bbb writes #project v #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #sebastian stan

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ask-fantasy-sanders-sides · 4 years ago

Note

Well ain’t that one hell of a wake up call :)

They all settle into Virgil’s room, sitting on the circular mattress of foreign, soft material.

After Roman sets him down onto the bed, Virgil pulls him down by the arm, manhandling him into a seated position so Virgil can drag himself into his lap. This is not the first time he’s done this, but it still makes Roman blush. (And, the whispers taunting him with the possibility of it being a romantic gesture are not helping, in that regard)

“So, we need to talk about what happened last night.” Logan asserts aloud, knocking Roman back out of his flustered headspace.

“First, how did you two get so hurt so quickly??” Patton frowns, “I know we were in dangerous territory, but I was only separated from Virgil and Logan for a few minutes!”

Then, an onslaught of whispers explaining the situation.

Roman catches bits and pieces where he is mentioned, though he wishes he could block his ears to it and pretend the whole thing never happened…

“Roman, is that true?” Patton gasps, clutching the sleeves of his cardigan. Roman hates the look on his face — some horrible, gut-wrenching mix of pity and horror — but he doesn’t look away. A Paladin faces the consequences of his actions.

Roman nods,

“It…was my fault. I’m sorry.”

Roman is keenly aware of the shift against his chest, of Virgil’s gaze on him, but he can’t look down to meet his eyes. He barrels on, unable to stop his rambling,

“I was being reckless and petty. I put all of you in danger, and I nearly got everyone killed. I-…I killed—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Virgil grumbles, glaring up at him. Roman snaps his jaw shut, surprised.

(I mean, he had expected Virgil to be angry with him, but that isn’t exactly the sentence Roman had been anticipating.)

“Pardon?”

“I said shut up! Gods, do you actually believe that?!” Virgil frowns, “That wasn’t your fault. You didn’t put anyone in danger.”

“I beg to differ.” Logan frowns, and Virgil’s icy glare immediately snaps to him while Roman’s heart turns to stone and drops to his stomach. This was a reaction he had been expecting, but that didn’t make it feel any better.

“If he hadn’t ran off on his own on some ridiculous quest to slay a monster, none of that encounter would have happened. He snuck away in the middle of the night to confront her after repeatedly being advised against it. He shouldn’t be surprised that the situation went downhill from there.” Logan chides, “He was being foolhardy.”

“Yeah, running off on his own was stupid, but that doesn’t make what happened afterward his fault! It’s not like he could help it!” Virgil snaps, “And he wasn’t the only one being reckless! Don’t think it escaped my attention that you went hunting around for hag’s eyes instead of the rest of the group! —And you voluntarily made a deal with that bitch!”

“There were no better ways to resolve the situation at my disposal. Roman had a brainslug!”

“Yeah, and you sound like you’re blaming him for it!”

Logan is caught off guard at that.

He turns to Roman, eyes wide, though his frown is still present. Roman shrinks a little under his stare, and Virgil squares his shoulders, putting himself between the two.

Roman realizes with a start why Virgil had seated them the way he did; he’s made himself into a barrier.

“It’s okay. I get it!” Roman interjects, trying to sound less crushed than he is to get Virgil to back down. He doesn’t want a fight to break out here.

“No, Roman, wait.” Logan pinches the bridge of his nose, swearing under his breath in Elven, “It wasn’t my intention to imply… —You should take responsibility for running off without a word, because that was irresponsible of you!”

Roman nods, waiting for the kick… But, instead, Logan gives Roman a soft look. Roman is almost certain he hates this pseudo-guilt more than the anger.

“You put yourself in danger. That is what I was trying to say.” Logan sighs.

“I am angry with you for that, but I don’t blame you for what happened to you afterwards. Or Virgil. That was not your fault, that was the Coven’s.”

…Roman isn’t quite sure he agrees with that, but he gets the distinct impression Virgil will yell at him if he disagrees, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Patton gives Logan an encouraging smile, then reaches over to pat Roman’s leg, sighing,

“Roman, I love that you’re courageous and gallant and all, but you worry us to death when you go out picking fights you aren’t ready for! Logan was scared for you. We all were.”

“I know why you did it, but you can’t do that again, man.” Virgil nods, deflating slightly. He and Logan share an exhausted look, and luckily, neither of them seem to be angry at the other about the miscommunication. (That’s good, because if Roman had found himself secondhand ruining their friendship, he would cry.)

“I wish I could promise that I won’t.” Roman frowns, feeling ice run through his veins as he awaits their response, “—I mean, I won’t go running back to her any time soon, but if there’s some other menace out there that I am prepared to handle… I mean, protecting people from evil is my duty, I can’t just let those things be! I tried to warn you before, but I really can’t just leave it alone if I know I could solve the problem!”

“I’m not asking you to leave it alone.” Virgil groans the words like it pains him, (and honestly, it probably does,)

“But I am telling you not to go alone. Not again. We go together, so you don’t end up dead and alone in the woods somewhere.”

“Agreed!” Patton grins, and Logan nods,

“If we can’t stop you, at least let us keep you from getting yourself killed in vain.”

Roman feels a familiar warmth bubble up in his chest, with the two of them smiling at him like that. He’s not sure if he wants them putting themselves in danger to help him, but damn if he’s not flattered by their loyalty; he wants nothing more than to embrace it.

So, Roman nods, barely suppressing his own smile of relief.

“Now, what happened after that?” Virgil frowns, leaning his head back against Roman’s shoulder and closing his eyes. His breathing is deep and shallow; he’s trying to get as much essential conversation in as he can before he passes out again.

“You revived me. —Are you guys okay?! No one here hurt you, right?”

“No, we’re fine~! Some dirty looks, but that was it.” Patton smiles, reaching over to hold Virgil’s hand.

“We were led here by soldiers who recognized you.” Logan explains, “They led us to your Empress, and she and your Lady helped us with the ritual. The Empress called Eilistraee for aid, and we discussed your…situation.”

Virgil groans and covers his face with his hand, “Please tell me you didn’t embarrass yourselves in front of them.”

“On the contrary, I think our conversations were very enlightening!” Logan smiles, completely missing the point. “I have a better idea of what you will require going forward, for our classes. …Though, Eilistraee suggested that we should also find you a Sorcerer for mentorship. And, she had implied that one would find us promptly..?”

Virgil snaps to attention. He uncovers his face and nods,

“I know a guy. He’s looking for me. If we’re going to be sitting ducks here for a while, while my body remembers how to function, he should catch up to us. I, uhh…”

Virgil coughs, his voice quieting slightly, “I think you guys already…know each other? His name’s Dee?”

Hearing the poorly disguised excitement in his voice at the idea, Patton and Logan both try not to look agitated… Roman seems pleased, though, and smiles,

“Mama needs me and Remus to meet her in town, so our groups were going to be converging at some point, anyway! —I told you guys it was fate that we should meet~!! Everything’s coming together!”

“Wait, I thought Dee was a wizard?” Patton frowns, and Virgil shakes his head,

“No, that’s a cover. —If we’re all going to be working together, you should probably get used to the idea of him being less than honest. Almost everything that comes out of his mouth is total bullshit.”

“Oh, we are well aware.” Logan grumbles.

“Wait, before we get too far from the subject,” Patton frowns, and Roman doesn’t like the sad look returning to his face one bit, “…What were you talking about, before, Ro? ‘Petty?’ What made you sneak off like that?”

Roman blanches.

Virgil must feel him stiffen — or maybe he remembers their short, incredibly one-sided conversation in the woods — and speaks up in his stead,

“That wasn’t his fault, it was mine. We were going to wind up there regardless.”

...And, once again, he has completely astounded Roman. He needs to stop expecting things from this man.

“How is that possible?” Logan frowns, just as confused.

“It’s a long story I’m too tired to be embarrassed about…” Virgil shrugs,

“I made a deal with Granny a few years ago, to save a bystander. She said she would spare their life, but I would owe her one the next time I returned to her wood. The next time I saw her, she would take a member of my party.”

“What?!” Patton and Roman yell in unison, and Virgil’s ears flatten to his head for a moment as he frowns in distaste.

“And you didn’t think to mention that?!” Roman whines, scandalized.

“I didn’t expect you to run off!” Virgil elbows Roman in return, then looks up at him, “…And…I didn’t want you to think less of me. For taking the easy way out… That was before I got all fucked up. Honestly, I could have killed her if I wanted to, and been done with all of this. But I was too scared. I’m not…like you.”

There is an unexpected, strikingly soft tone to his voice as Virgil admits this. He seems surprised by it himself, after it’s out in the air. Virgil quickly barrels forward, waving his hand dismissively,

“Honestly, I’m relieved the one she meant was mine. I would have felt bad if I had gotten someone else damned for my mistake. —It doesn’t matter now, anyway. She killed me; she got her reward.”

“Not quite,” Logan frowns, “We had to break her claim to revive you. Logically, that should mean the deal is broken, but she may not see it that way. In fact, I would bet that she still considers you to be in debt.”

“Well, good thing none of us plan on going back into her territory!” Patton smiles, with a less than pointed look at Roman. Roman blushes and nods, but Virgil’s gone stock still.

Roman hears his breathing quicken, and though he can’t see his face, Roman can see the slight yellow glow reflecting on his white hair. Virgil grips Roman’s arm, claws digging painfully into his skin,

"Oh my god. Annie.” Virgil whispers fearfully.

An onslaught of whispers hits them then, warning of some giant wolf called Jasper (Roman thinks he remembers Virgil mentioning someone like that before, but he wasn’t paying attention) who is apparently gunning for their little nereid. Patton and Roman both pale as Virgil starts to ramble,

“Annie! Oh my god, she’s gonna kill her! Fuck!! No, no—”

“No, she won’t.” Logan promises sternly, a flash of magic in his eyes when he speaks. He lays his hand over Virgil’s, and Virgil relaxes his grip, but only slightly.

“I am going to go get her.”

“What did we just say about splitting up?!” Virgil hisses, the Calm Emotions charm just barely keeping hold on him. Logan shakes his head,

“This is different, and you know that. I am not sneaking off without a word, and we don’t have another option. You are too weak to travel, and if we wait any longer to cross back into the Prime Material, we may reach her too late. Besides, I am the only one of us who can ferry messages back and forth, and I can only do that from outside of the city.”

Roman is aghast at this, and shakes his head vehemently,

“Then I’m coming with you!”

“No you are not!” Logan and Virgil both say — or shout, in Virgil’s case — at once. Logan elaborates first,

“You are also too weak to travel, and you two are the only ones of us who have encountered Jasper! He would sniff you out immediately.”

“You’re the weakest and slowest member of our party, and he’s a wolf shifter!” Virgil shakes his head, “He’ll still hear you, and he’ll hunt you down like a newborn deer!”

Logan smiles at him. Roman assumes he’s trying to be soothing, but he knows that mad scientist glint to his eyes when he sees it…

“Not if I cast Silence. Besides, he has no reason to suspect me more than any other townsperson, and the Hag only has her power over the town because she pretends to be their protector. He wouldn’t be allowed to kill citizens at random.”

“Then it’s settled! Me and Logan will get Annie.” Patton nods, and Roman whines. Logan and Virgil look no less pleased.

“You will be going nowhere!” Logan frowns, “I can’t allow you to put yourself in danger any more than Roman or Virgil. You are still…ill.”

“Oh, you did not just pull that card!” Patton gasps, slapping Logan’s arm, (He pulls it, of course, but it still hurts a little,)

“I’ve been doing just fine this entire trip, and I am a grown man! I can handle being ‘a little ill’!“

“Patton, I didn’t mean to—”

“You invited me on this whole adventure because you needed protection, and you knew I could keep us both safe!” Patton huffs, furious, “The last time I split from you three, one of you ended up dead. None of us are going on any side quests or rescue missions solo anymore! I’m coming with you, and that’s the end of it!”

“Yes, fine, alright.” Logan sighs, knowing he isn’t going to win this one. This just makes Roman more upset, and he shouts in frustration,

“No! You two aren’t going anywhere without me!”

“That’s rich.” Logan notes offhandedly, and wow, that stings, but Roman doesn’t have time to be sad about it, because they aren’t listening,

“I mean it!” Roman demands desperately, trying his best to convey how serious he is without giving up his secret, “You can’t go anywhere I can’t follow you— I can’t protect you! You can’t leave me behind, I’m coming with you!”

“No!” Virgil demands again, shaking his head and redoubling his grip on Roman’s arm. It hurts a lot, but Roman is suddenly more concerned with the near-delirious look on his face. His eyes are starting to glow again as he works back up into a panic,

“No, Roman, you can’t! Not ag— Not all of you.” Virgil shakes his head, closing his eyes tight when he feels the sparks starting to build there. His tone is rushed and shaken, like he’s trying to make sense of his thoughts as he says them aloud,

“You’re hurt too, and you still don’t know how to use your sword! You won’t make it out there! You can’t leave me alone, If you leave I’ll— I need you to stay here!”

…Okay, there is definitely something wrong here. But still, Roman feels that all-too-familiar tug at his core at Virgil’s last statements…

Roman looks up between Logan and Patton for a moment.

They look just as confused and distressed as Roman is, but under that, they…really do look well rested. And he’s seen them in action before; Logan is nothing if not a competent magician, and despite how he looks, Patton is even stronger than Roman is. If any of them could make it out on a last-ditch rescue effort, it would have to be them. With his current state, and everything he’s accomplished lately, Roman’s certain he would be more of a hindrance to the mission then anything… It hurts to let them go, but it’s the only thing he can do.

“Virgil…” Roman sighs, already knowing the answer, “Are you asking for my help?”

“Yes. —I don’t want to! I don’t kn—…I’m sorry.” Virgil grumbles while shaking his head, the picture of contradiction. He hugs his legs to his chest, and his eyes open again, though his pupils are still yellow.

“…Virgil?”

“You have to stay.” He nods resolutely, “…But I still don’t like this.” he growls, letting his head thud against his knees. Either out of frustration, or because he’s gotten too tired to hold it up.

“I don’t want any of you to go. This sucks ass. I can’t… I just got back, you know?!”

Patton scoots over and gives Virgil a crushing hug, which he gladly leans in to.

“I know, kiddo. But I’m sure it will all turn out fine!” Patton soothes him softly, “Now we know exactly where to go and where to avoid, and Logan can report back to you guys all the time so you know we’re okay! We’ll just run to grab her and be right back, as quick as we can. In the meantime, you two get some rest!”

Virgil closes his eyes and hums in acknowledgement. After a bit of silence, he grumbles, pushing himself away from Patton,

“Roman, can you get me my bags from that drawer? The first one.” He flicks his hand roughly towards the entire left side of the room (which, thankfully, has one only one dresser). Roman does as he’s asked, watching Virgil rifle through his satchels.

Virgil pulls out two daggers, both wrapped in leather. He unsheathes one of them, to show off the odd violet sheen to the black metal. Virgil nods to himself, then hands one to Patton. He hands the other to Logan, and mumbles,

“Take my cloak too, teach. You’ll need it.”

“What are these?” Patton muses giddily, fastening the blade’s frog to his pack.

“Poisoned. Heavily.” Virgil snaps sternly, “The toxin will only take on the first use, and it will kill on contact. Use them very carefully, and do not accidentally cut yourself with it.”

Virgil leans back against Roman’s shoulder, clearly struggling to stay awake.

“Jasper is the head of the pack, and the one who gives them Granny’s orders. If he falls, they run back home for instruction. He’s grey with red eyes, nearly five and a half feet tall at the shoulder. You can’t miss him”

Logan and Patton nod. One of Virgil’s eyes winks open, under no small effort, to give the two’s general direction a very serious stare.

“If you find him?” Virgil muses, more of a statement then a question,

“Kill him.”

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Game Start

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

Available for questions: Logan, Roman, Patton, and Virgil!

Ohh dear, it looks like we’re splitting the party again! I guess it couldn’t have lasted forever...

This time, though, they’re split into smaller parties instead of solo players, so you will get to see both groups’ adventures!

The only question now is...

Who will you follow First?

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((If you missed the blog announcement, check it here!))

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tanoraqui · 5 years ago

Text

tanoraqui

Still thinking about an au in which for some reason WWX and the Wens are left to just live peacefully on the creepy death mountain - some detente wherein they don’t leave the mountain ever and in exchange no one tries to visit ever. Borders patrolled by corpses and sect disciples. So A-Yuan grows up raised kind of collectively but mostly by WWX and Wen Qing (the one most likely to tell WWX that he’s doing it wrong), and learns healing-focused spiritual cultivation AND demonic cultivation, and then at some point starts sneaking out to be the terrifying force of righteous kindness he was always going to be

tanoraqui

Righteous kindness but also, like, having picked up WWX’s cavalier confidence (or at least some of the ability to fake it) and Wen Qing’s general attitude of Do No Harm But Take No Shit

Like IMAGINE

tanoraqui

In this au, despite the strict border-by-mutual-agreement that’s the only reason somehow no ones tried to attack, LWJ sneaks in like one a year so he and WWX can make eyes at one another but not actually say anything ever, and Wen Qing and LXC are both EXHAUSTED bc both their dumb little brothers (WWX is a sibling by adoption now don’t @ me) mope for like a week after EVERY SINGLE TIME THIS HAPPENS, and it’s been /over ten years/.

tanoraqui

Meanwhile Jiang YanLi and JZX are FINE, and JYL somehow keeps up some sort of correspondence with WWX - or at least, he’s faithfully managed to send a birthday present for Jin Ling every single year, and every time, JYL makes her son write a thank-you note and bribes some series of people to get it smuggled back to Yiling

tanoraqui

...which means, honestly, that Jin Ling is probably wildly curious about his uncle the evil demonic cultivator kept trapped within the terrible ghost mountain by the forces of Good and Right, and WILL sneak out one day to try to visit. Optimally, obviously, at the same time Wen Yuan is sneaking out to see the non-mountain world

tanoraqui

The optimal plot is that Wen Yuan ropes Jin Ling into helping him set up WWX and LWJ, because he, too, is exasperated at this point, and Jin Ling ropes Wen Yuan into arranging like a parent trap reunion for the Jiang siblings, and obviously there are monsters and undead to complicate it all

tanoraqui

They kind of acquire Lan Jingyi somewhere, somehow. He’s having a blast

There is a 100% chance that the first Adult(TM) to find them is Wen Ning and they just kind of rope him into whatever the hell is going on at the time

...you know what, I think this is just a good au where JGY fucking died at some point

tanoraqui

Maybe someone threw him down the stairs again and he just broke his fucking neck. WWX is still vilified but between Jiang Cheng not really wanting to attack and Jiang (Jin?) Yanli being AGGRESSIVELY against it, and dragging JZX along with her, they’re left in peace.

tanoraqui

Oh man and Jin Ling has YOUNGER SIBLINGS in this...

Hey for u: Jiang Cheng/Wen Qing can accidentally happen while the Teens are trying to get everyone else to meet

Today at 8:42 AM

@professorsparklepants

I love this it's so goddamn wacky

tanoraqui

I just want teenager-based shenanigans ft. surprisingly competent teenagers and all the adults running around like chickens with their heads chopped off

professorsparklepants

Jingyi: why are you two more calm about this than the literal adults

Wen Yuan: have you met my dad?

tanoraqui

Also to be clear it is not at all hard to convince Wen Ning to join Team: Teenage Shenanigans, bc literally ANYONE in the Burial Mountain village would probably be down if you were like, “we’re engaged in a conspiracy to make Wei Wuxian fucking admit that he’s in love with that Lan guy who visits a couple times a year”

professorsparklepants

"This is my father, and this is his sugar daddy."

tanoraqui

I kinda wanna say he goes by “Wen Yuan” more often bc he’s 100% the baby of the entire remaining Wen clan there, but his adult name or w/e it’s called IS Wen Sizhui, because WWX asked LWJ if he had any suggestions and LWJ said this while maintaining eye contact

professorsparklepants

OH MY GOOOOOOD

tanoraqui

They meet LXC and he figures out what’s going on in like 4 minutes, despite the teens’ best attempts at obfuscation, and instead of calling anyone’s parents is like, “okay, I’m in”

professorsparklepants

#1 wingman...

tanoraqui

Jin Ling and Wen Yuan are definitely both traveling under false names, too? Wen Yuan obviously can’t admit to being a Wen and Jin Ling is making a privileged but slightly helicoptered teen’s rebellious bid for freedom

professorsparklepants

His dad is panicking at home and Yanli is like "boys need their freedom :)"

I saw a post forever ago about how Yanli would be the most hands off parent & Zixuan is an only child who would panic every time his kid fell down

tanoraqui

With a side order of “my mother is the only one who’ll say nice things about the Yiling Patriarch and she always looks sad when she does so I’m going to sneak into the Burial Mountain and either drag him out to see her or force my parents to come get me”

professorsparklepants

"I'm gonna beat up the Yiling Patriarch" "why" "he made my mom sad" "okay proceed"

tanoraqui

^ actual real conversation with WenYuan

professorsparklepants

A-Yuan then repeats the same thing to Wen Qing and she has the exact same answer, verbatim

tanoraqui

Side note: Wen Yuan has never been scared of the undead in his entire life, and probably this will lead to getting into severely life-threatening situations when he doesn’t have more backup than 2 other teenagers

professorsparklepants

Oh absolutely

professorsparklepants

He's so used to tuning out the sound of sentry corpses that one jumps on him and almost punches his lungs out

tanoraqui

Also what if he took WWX’s sword, so he looks like a proper normal cultivator - honestly, what if WWX gave him the sword when he turned 12, or whenever one customarily gives a child a sword in this world. He also has a flute stashed in his robe somewhere but he does know how to use both

tanoraqui

But also, while obviously it’s very important that this is the sword he inherited from his father, it’s never OCCURRED to him to, like, strongly associate it with WWX, in terms of “this would be a recognizable weapon”? Chenqing the flute, obviously, but WWX just left the sword on a shelf all the time

professorsparklepants

He's very good at fooling people into thinking he's a normal rogue cultivator until he busts out the flute

LOL YES

tanoraqui

So the first time someone looks at him and is like, “That is WWX’s sword” he achieves, like, “Who’s Morales? [NOT THAT DUMB]” levels of blank-brained

professorsparklepants

It like, doesn't even occur to him that this stick named whatever will be recognizable to people until it actually happens

"this is the Yiling Patriarch's sword!" "... I've never heard of him"

tanoraqui

“What sword?”

professorsparklepants

KDJAKSNJS

tanoraqui

“Oh, THIS sword? I...found it. In a stream.”

tanoraqui

Also...at some point...once the teens have admitted their identities to one another...and possibly gotten into a couple other increasingly public shenanigans...they run into a bunch of concerned people searching from the Jin or even Jiang sect - JC being there would be PERFECT - and Jin Ling is like, “aaahh, no, I don’t want to be dragged home... kidnap me.”

WY: what?

JL: pull out the flute, summon a couple corpses, shout that you’re the dread son of the Yiling Patriarch, and pretend to kidnap me

WY: ...yeah okay

AND THEN THEY DO THAT

professorsparklepants

The dumbass energy...... off the CHARTS

tanoraqui

They’re 15 and neither of them has ever faced consequences but in...actually not too different ways

They’re 15 and neither of them as ever faced consequences nor most of the real world

Oh my god is Lan Jingyi the most sensible person here

They’re going to DIE

professorsparklepants

JXHAKAJAKKQHSJA

JC and Yanli immediately see through this probably

"dumbass kid just doesn't want to go home. I'll break his legs."

tanoraqui

I think Yanli does but I have minimal faith in JC’s ability to think logically at any time

He’s still angry at WWX for leaving

professorsparklepants

Stomps to Yiling to demand his nephew back & wwx's like "lol, A-Yuan left two months ago"

Okay my shift is starting later

tanoraqui

/snort

Though, bold of you to assume that WWX isn’t also running around anxiously somewhere like “oh god, oh no, my son is missing; I must find him”

professorsparklepants

Sizhui is a responsible boy, I don't think he would leave without telling at least ONE person where he was going

tanoraqui

Ok but it was Wen Qing who thinks it’s good for WWX’s health to stop brooding and go run around like a headless chicken instead, optimally if he runs into his totally-not-a-boyfriend-Hahahaha-why-would-you-say-that

Alternately it was, like, Granny, which, ditto

No one on this mountain is going to stop WWX from going out to cause trouble and hopefully get laid, is my point

tanoraqui

Also, the cultivation world has been basically at peace for 13 years and the reason is that this is an ideal AU where JGY is dead and whenever trouble starts to stir politically, NHS and JYL meet eyes across the room and mentally Rock Paper Scissors over who has to manipulate everyone into calming the fuck down

Neither of them actually wants this job; they’re just good at it and recognize both those aspects in each other

professorsparklepants

LOLOLOL

That is.... so goddamn in character

tanoraqui

concept: JYL and NHS are friends and no one else understands it, or attributes it to JYL just being that nice, bc NHS still generally acts useless

professorsparklepants

Nhs actively wants to be useless and life is conspiring to make sure he can't

tanoraqui

a little less dramatically useless, but why ruin a good thing when you're having fun and it's useful

professorsparklepants

Lol

tanoraqui

but JYL fucking identified him as Actually Competent one time when he couldn't hide it, so now sometimes they get tea together and bitch about politics and stupid people

professorsparklepants

He's the only person who can correctly identify when she's talking shit about people, because it's VERY subtle and her brothers & husband are too busy thinking she hung the moon to notice

tanoraqui

JYL striding into Nie sect HQ (whatever it's called) and tossing her coat over a chair. "You would not BELIEVE what my brothers are doing now."

NHS: *probably knows, because he's found that the minor investment of effort in maintaining a very good spy network pays major dividends in helping him avoid greater work* *immediately sits up and pours her a cup of very expensive tea* Oh, girl, dish.

professorsparklepants

Question: are they also friends with lwj...

tanoraqui

yes but he's obviously not invited to hte political gossip sessions

professorsparklepants

I'm trying to imagine lwj making eye contact with them at some meeting his brother dragged him to and both of them struggling not to break into hysterics

tanoraqui

but they both know that he sneaks into Yiling to visit WWX a few times a year, and every single time, JYL sits him down within a couple weeks and aggressively debriefs him as to her brother's condition

professorsparklepants

I'm sure she tried to get him to take treats in

tanoraqui

for sure

it's hopeless, though, bc there's no really predicting WHEN he'll go? It's basically just "every 4-6 months when LWJ's resolve breaks"

professorsparklepants

Too bad she's not a stress quilter instead of a stress baker

tanoraqui

she gets him to go at an actual arranged time, bearing pork soup, like once, for WWX's 30th birthday or something

professorsparklepants

tanoraqui

omg lit brain: LWJ of course is hte WORST for getting gossip, but JYL has pieced together a reasonable amount about the people her idiot baby brother (#2) is now living with. And she's mildly despairing as to idiot baby brother #1's ongoing refusal to get married and have an heir or three. So she, if not actively connives, then certainly siezes the first available opportunity to set Jiang Cheng up with Wen Qing

tanoraqui

basically, this au is PEAK romcom

tanoraqui

...also, for max happiness, i'd like to think that WWX made some strategic raids to rescue additional Wen refugees and bring them back, so there's a properly populated village and they didn't all just die

professorsparklepants

!!!

Good... Good thoughts

Good because 1. more people die and 2. The Yiling Patriarch will attack your village and steal your people away!

tanoraqui

(romcom being exclusively adults-focussed; the teens initiate it all but Jin Ling and Wen Yuan are both so delighted to have an Additional (But Cooler) Family Member that they comfortably cousinzone each other instantly)

professorsparklepants

*nice*

tanoraqui

...i feel like i keep characterizing Jin Ling as an only child, when really he ought to have a small horde of siblings

maybe they just...couldn't conceive more. shit happens. pregnancy is hard.

professorsparklepants

That happens sometimes

#mdzs #the untamed #ficlet #my fic #lan sizhui #jin ling #lan jingyi #(not actually here much; rip)#wen ning #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang yanli #nie huaisang #lan xichen #wen qing

2K notes · View notes

emospritelet · 4 years ago

Text

Heatstroke - chapter 20

Last time, Gold and Lacey danced :)

Words: 2,331

[AO3]

The music kept playing. The Nolans breezed past them, moving in step with each other as though they’d been dance partners all their lives. David Nolan winked at Gold again, and Lacey bit her lip to hide a grin at the long-suffering expression it caused. She was beginning to feel more relaxed, which considering she was pressed up against the man she had a crush on was something of an achievement in her mind. Gold’s grip was firm on her waist, his hand warm in hers.

“What made you want to be a journalist?” he asked, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Guess I’m a nosy bitch.”

Gold burst out laughing, head rolling back and she felt a lurch in her belly.

“People are interesting,” she said then. “Their lives, why they do what they do. I mean there’s unearthing scandals and exposing corrupt public figures, and that’s all good, but sometimes it’s nice to just document humans doing human stuff, you know?”

He pursed his lips, nodding slowly.

“I think I understand that,” he said. “What do you do when you’re not working?”

Lacey pulled a face.

“I probably spend way too much time drinking in bars,” she said. “But I guess you’re only young once, right?”

“I vaguely remember,” he said, in a very dry tone, and she clicked her tongue.

“Come on, you’re not old.”

“Tell that to my aching bones.”

Lacey stepped back immediately, looking him over.

“Oh, are you hurting?” she asked anxiously. “We can sit down, if you want.”

Gold shook his head, pulling her close again.

“I’m joking,” he said, turning her in a slow circle. “A little, anyway. I’m in no more pain than usual.”

“Oh. Okay.”

They fell silent for a moment, and Lacey smiled as she saw Astrid and Leroy waltz past. Leroy, it turned out, was a surprisingly good dancer.

“How did you injure your leg?” she asked, and Gold looked surprised.

“You don’t want to save that deeply personal question for Sunday?”

“Thought about it,” she confessed. “But it seemed appropriate to ask now.”

He nodded, his gaze somewhere over her shoulder, as though he was wondering whether to answer.

“I’m afraid it’s nothing remotely newsworthy,” he said. “Merely a motorcycle, an icy road, and bad luck. Or good luck, depending on your point of view. I suppose I was fortunate that a ruined ankle was the worst I had to suffer. Physically, anyway.”

That comment made her curiosity grow, but she filed it away for the moment.

“Besides,” he added. “We were talking about you. Other than drinking with Miss Lucas, what are your interests?”

“You expecting me to admit to book-binding or basket-weaving, or something?”

Gold showed his teeth.

“I find I never know what to expect with you, Miss French.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” she said. “I work, I drink, I eat and I read. Pretty much it.”

“I’m almost certain that’s not true.”

“How did we get fixated on me, anyway?” she demanded. “How about you answer a few questions?”

A tiny grin twisted his mouth.

“I agreed to,” he said, his eyes glinting. “On Sunday. Tonight I want to hear about you.”

Lacey let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Well, I run,” she said, and grinned at him. “The scenery around this town can be very interesting at times, you know?”

Gold gave her a very level look, as though unsure whether she was teasing him or not.

“I’m even worse a runner than I am a dancer,” he said, and she chuckled.

“You’re doing fine, but I take your point. I guess yoga might be more your thing. That’s another thing I like to do. Part of my morning routine.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you,” he said, and closed his eyes, looking pained. “I - I don’t mean I’ve been watching you, I’ve just - seen you in the garden, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I like it out in the open air,” she said. “I’ve even done it in the rain.”

A tiny grin appeared on his face, and his eyebrows flicked upwards.

“Sounds - invigorating,” he remarked.

“You can always come over and join in, if you like,” she suggested.

“Me?”

“Sure, why not?”

Gold looked down very pointedly before meeting her eyes again.

“Because I’m possibly the least flexible person in Storybrooke.”

“Then you’re the one that needs it the most,” she countered, and swatted his shoulder with her free hand, making him blink in surprise. “Come on! It would be good for you! The more you do it, the better it gets.”

Gold’s eyebrows twitched, and that twisted little smile appeared again.

“True of so many things in life, I find,” he murmured, and Lacey smirked.

“Practice makes perfect.”

“Indeed it does.”

His voice had gone low and throaty, his grip tightening a little, and she could feel her heart thump, her breath quickening a little. She licked her lips, her eyes on his mouth. He was almost close enough to kiss.

“Oh, Mr Gold, there you are!”

A familiar and unwelcome voice cut through the tension between them, and Gold jerked his head upwards, mouth flattening. Lacey wanted to growl as Zelena West strode up to them, in a long green strapless dress with a thigh split, white teeth bared in a grin. Gold’s face had taken on an oddly closed expression, his eyes losing their light.

“I’m so delighted you could make it!” went on Zelena. “And dancing with Miss French! I always knew you were a charitable person!”

She smirked as she said it, which made Lacey bristle, before turning her attention back to Gold.

“I certainly hope you don’t intend to make this your last dance,” she said. “The night’s young, after all. Perhaps I can tempt you later.”

“I think one dance is really my limit,” said Gold coolly. “Thank you for your effusive welcome, Miss West. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Miss French and I were having a private conversation.”

Zelena let out a tinkling little laugh that made Lacey want to throw something over her.

“Ooh, be careful!” she said, in a sing-song voice. “Miss French might seem as though she’s just making conversation, and the next thing she’ll be poking her nose in where it doesn’t belong and getting you to confess to all manner of things.”

“That would suggest she’s very good at her job,” said Gold, as Lacey opened her mouth indignantly. “However, other than attempting to school me on the merits of yoga, she’s been going easy on me. I detect no burning desire to get me to spill my darkest secrets this evening.”

“Wait for Sunday,” muttered Lacey, and his mouth twitched as though he was trying not to grin. Zelena rolled her eyes.

“Well, I insist on speaking to you later,” she said. “I doubt Miss French can hold your attention for long.”

She sauntered off, leaving Lacey staring after her in outrage.

“Miss West appears not to care for you too much,” said Gold mildly.

“Feeling’s mutual.”

Lacey was still scowling after her, but his hand was warm on her waist as he pulled her back towards him. She caught the scent of his cologne, feeling his fingers splay out across the small of her back and then slide together as he tugged her close.

“She’s a woman of poor taste,” he murmured.

His body was very warm, and Lacey was feeling a little breathless. She licked her lips.

“She seems to like you well enough,” she said, and he chuckled deeply.

“That only proves my point.”

The music slowed to a stop, and for a moment they stood there in silence before Gold smiled a little awkwardly and stepped back, releasing her.

“See?” she said. “You can dance.”

“With you to hold me up, perhaps.”

“Details, details…”

Gold grinned at that, and Lacey felt her heart clench again. The music started up, a livelier tune, and she raised an eyebrow.

“You want to go again?”

“I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead,” he said, in a dry tone. “Drink?”

“Please.” She grinned at him. “I can see David and Mary Margaret are calling it quits, too. I think I’ll go get to know them a little better.”

Gold gave her a slanted grin and bowed his head before turning on his heel and heading in the direction of one of the wait staff. Lacey watched him go, fully aware that she probably had, in Ruby’s words, ‘big pulsing cartoon hearts’ in her eyes.

The evening continued to go well. David and Mary Margaret were every bit as nice as they had seemed, and David seemed to be the only person in Storybrooke that Gold didn’t mind being teased by, however gentle the teasing might have been. Lacey was reluctant to pull herself away from Gold, but she was technically working, so she made sure to talk to plenty of other guests. She caught his eye on her a few times, and he glanced away whenever she turned to face him, causing David to nudge him with a grin and say something that made Gold close his eyes and sigh. It made Lacey bite back her own grin, and she wandered back over to watch the prize draw with Gold and the Nolans. The champagne was going to her head.

Once the prize draw was done—the top prize of a three-course dinner with champagne being won by Leroy—Zelena walked onto the stage to take the microphone as the applause was dying down. Beside her, Lacey felt Gold stiffen, as though he was apprehensive. As though he was waiting for something. She recalled Sidney saying that he thought the evening was about more than charity work, and across the room she saw him watching Zelena intently. Zelena bared her teeth in a wide smile, flicking back her reddish curls.

“Thank you all for coming and for making this event the incredible success it’s been,” she said, her voice carrying. “I think we can all agree that the food has been first class, so thanks to Granny’s Diner for providing it.”

Applause rang around the room, and Lacey joined in.

“Tonight’s event has been the work of months,” Zelena went on, “but seeing the smiles on all your faces and knowing that all the money raised tonight is going to such a good cause - well, it just fills my heart with joy!”

Mary Margaret shared a smile with David, and Lacey eyed Gold, who was staring at the stage with narrow-eyed suspicion.

“I have to confess,” said Zelena, “that I have another reason to speak to you tonight.”

Gold made a tiny noise in the back of his throat, as though he was confirming something to himself. Lacey found her curiosity growing, and edged closer to him. Zelena had begun to pace slowly back and forth across the stage.

“Storybrooke has opened its heart to me ever since I came here,” she went on. “We’re a close community. A community based on good old-fashioned values. Friendship, and family. Neighbourliness. I can’t tell you what a relief it was to move here from New York and find a town so - so steeped in wonderful local traditions. So eager to welcome a stranger who felt that she had lost her way.”

She bowed her head a little, as though overcome by emotion. Lacey snorted quietly, but flattened her mouth as Zelena looked up again.

“You see, I’ve always wanted a life of service, a life of - of giving,” she said. “It’s why I’ve done so much for charities in the past. It’s why I’ve been organising these events since I came to Storybrooke. And yet - I feel that I could give more.”

She paused, shaking back her hair as she gazed around the room.

“I like to think that in my own, small way, I’ve helped this town through difficult times,” she said, pressing a hand to her heart with a self-deprecating smile. “And that’s why, after much soul-searching, I’ve made the decision to try to serve the town I’ve come to love so dearly in the best way I can.”

Another pause. Lacey had to admit that she had a talent for holding an audience’s attention. Zelena smiled, eyes widening with a hopeful expression.

“I have decided,” she said. “To run for Mayor of Storybrooke.”

There was a collective intake of breath from the audience, and a scattering of applause that rippled around the room. Lacey glanced at Gold, whose eyes had narrowed further, his mouth set in a grim line. Her eyes flicked to Regina Mills, who was looking shocked, lips parted and eyes wide. Her wife grasped her hand, leaning to whisper something in her ear, and Regina started before nodding and whispering something in return.

“I trust that I can count on the support of the many friends I’ve made since this town opened its heart to me,” said Zelena, in honeyed tones. “I have every faith that Storybrooke will prove to me once again that wishing for something hard enough can make dreams come true.”

She seemed to glance in Regina’s direction, but then smiled broadly.

“Thank you all,” she said. “Enjoy the rest of the night!”

More applause, and Zelena sauntered off stage as the music started up again.

“Well,” said Mary Margaret. “That’s - unexpected.”

“What’s the deal with the Mayoral elections?” asked Lacey.

“Regina’s run unopposed for the past few years at least,” said David.

“No one else wanted the job?”

“Pretty much.”

“Regina’s been Mayor as long as I can remember,” said Mary Margaret, looking puzzled. “Surely no one’s going to vote for Zelena over her?”

“Depends what she’s offering,” said Gold, in a grim tone. “Or what she can use to bring Regina down.”

He said that last in an undertone, and glanced at Lacey as he did so. She could feel curiosity surge in her. His eyes flicked away almost immediately, but she nodded to herself. He knows something. And I’m gonna find out what.

#fic: heatstroke #golden lace fic #golden lace #my fic

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emelywrites · 4 years ago

Note

Diego Hargreeves imagine where his siblings discover that he has a girlfriend/wife and a kid(s)?

Hi! Thank you for the request! I think I got a bit carried away, but I hope you like it.

Warnings: Language, mentions of drugs, rehab, relapse (Klaus), mention of death (Reginald), I don’t know how rehab works

You were sitting on the couch in your pajamas having just gotten your son to go to sleep while your husband was out being a vigilante. You were reading a book while the tv was on, showing the news. You weren’t really paying too much attention to it but the name of your father-in-law caught your attention. You had never really met him because your husband wasn’t close to his father, just like the rest of the Hargreeves-kids. Reginald Hargreeves was dead and you didn’t really know what to think. What would Diego think?

Just five minutes after the news had been on your screen the door to your apartment opened and Diego came in, going straight to the bathroom to clean himself up. You followed him.

„Did you hear it yet?“, you asked.

„That dad died? Yeah, it was on the news“, he replied, not seeming fazed at all.

„Do you wanna talk about it?“

„Not really. I don’t really care. It’s not like we were close.“

„You wouldn’t want someone talking shit about you after your death, babe. I know you didn’t like him much but shouldn’t you treat this with a little more respect?“

He leaned against the shower wall, where he was about to get in and glanced at you.

„You think someone hates me like we hated dad?“, his voice was small, like he was genuinely scared about your answer.

„No, Diego, it’s just- he’s your dad. You probably wouldn’t be the man you are today if he wasn’t. Who knows where you would be. We may have never met.“

„Don’t say that. Don’t try to protect him. He was a bitch but I guess I’ll go back to the Academy. There will be some funeral. We’ll pretend he was a good man and then we’ll go our separate ways again.“

„Maybe Vanya’s book wasn’t so wrong after all.“

„Shut up, that book was shit. Now get in here with me“, he held his hand out to you.

„No, you’re dirty and I already showered. Finish up and then come to bed with me“, you smiled and took off to your bedroom.

„Now that sounds like a deal to me“, he smirked.

A couple days later he was tying up his shoes to leave for the funeral of his father. You walked past him in the hallway, going to wake up your son before you had to head to work. He wore his typical black outfit, including all of his knives.

„Are you sure that’s an appropriate outfit for a funeral?“

„Not for any funeral but for the old man’s it should be good enough. He’s lucky I’m even coming.“

You sighed but didn’t say anything else. When he was stepping out you called after him again.

„Diego, if Klaus needs it, offer him the couch and some dinner, okay? He just got out again, but don’t make it a big deal.“

You had met Diego when he had dragged Klaus into rehab about six years ago. You had just started working there after having gotten your psychology degree and were the first person they encountered there.

„This crackhead needs some fucking help“, the man dressed in all black said, dragging another man with him who was wearing a fur coat and a long skirt.

„Okay, well, first off, it rarely helps the patients when we call them crackheads“, you started.

„You see, Diego, you need to stop insulting me, she said it, it’s your fault I’m always high.“

„We also don’t like to play the blame game. But if you would go over there to the reception desk and sign him in, we’ll take care of him here.“

Diego slumped his brother into one of the chairs and went to the reception to pick up the papers. You stuck around to help him out and when a nurse came to bring Klaus to his room you accompanied Diego on his way out.

„You did the right thing. Your brother will thank you for it when he’s clean“, you told him.

„If he gets clean“, Diego corrected.

„That’s really not the way of thinking around here“, you smiled.

„Hey, maybe“, he hesitated, „Maybe we could get a coffee sometime“, he looked at you, „You know, s-so you- you can tell me h-how he’s doing.“

You laid a hand onto his arm and smiled. „I’d like that.“

Klaus came back to rehab many times but Diego and you stuck with each other. Two years after that meeting you had gotten married and another year later you had a son together who idolized his father. Klaus was also the only one of Diego’s siblings who was at your wedding and knew about his brother’s life. Klaus and his nephew got along amazingly, mostly due to the fact that (Y/S/N) saw a boy his age in his uncle.

„I will. But if he relapses-,“

„You’ll love him just the same and we’ll help him out because you’re just as much a softie for Klaus as you are for me and (Y/S/N)“, you smiled and came to the door to press a kiss to his lips before he left.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. That night, when you were on your way to bed Klaus and Diego came through the door and Klaus immediately came to hug you, complimenting the amazing waffles you always made, thereby telling you he wanted waffles in the middle of the night. You, being his friend and sister-in-law, complied and then tucked him in on the couch with the help of your husband. When you woke up the next morning both of them were gone. You didn’t worry about Diego, you know he could take care of himself. You were worried about your recently-rehabilitated junkie of a brother-in-law.

So after you had taken (Y/S/N) to kindergarten you left to go looking for Klaus. After searching through the city and not finding him you resorted to the last place on your list that you had never been to in your life. The Umbrella Academy. You were surprised to find out you could just enter without keys. The first ‚person‘ you encountered was Grace, Diego’s robot mom, who you were sure knew everything about you that Diego knew, simply because that man loved his mother more than anything in this world.

„Oh, hello, (Y/N). It is such a pleasure to finally meet you“, she smiled.

„Hello“, you were a bit taken aback, „I am looking for Klaus actually. Is he here?“

She paused for a moment and stared into the distance. „He should be in his room.“

Then she went about her business again. You hadn’t learned much about Klaus’ whereabouts because it could probably take hours to find his room in this mansion. When you were about to ascend the stairs you got lucky though and met yet another person.

„Oh, hi, you’re Vanya, right? Loved your book. Could you tell me where Klaus is?“, you asked.

„Uhm-, I don’t know, who are you?“, she looked you up and down.

„I’m (Y/N), I’m- I’m his doctor. From rehab. Just worried“, you smiled, knowing that Diego probably didn’t want all of his siblings knowing about his private life but everyone knew about Klaus’ problems.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. „Since when do you do house visits?“

„Since his third stay probably. Listen, I’m just worried about him. I care about him and-,“

„Oh my god, why, are you, like, dating him or something?“, she widened her eyes in shock.

You paused and then started laughing. „Oh god, no.“

She left you to it, still not telling you where Klaus’ room was and you realized that looking for him had no point but you did need to get to work so you needed to leave, hoping you wouldn’t have to treat Klaus again anytime soon.

Two days later you received a text from your husband. „They wanna turn mom off, help“. You stared at the text in confusion and went to pick up your son before you went to the Umbrella Academy again. It seemed very unlike Diego to invite you to his childhood home like that. When you arrived your son wiggled out of your arms and ran after Grace.

„Oh, hello, (Y/S/N), I was just about to make some cookies. Would you like to help me?“, she smiled and took his hand.

Your son nodded eagerly and skipped alongside his grandmother. You in turn saw Vanya and Diego standing in the doorway to the living room or whatever kind of room that was supposed to be.

„Are you okay, love?“, you asked, putting a hand on his arm.

He pulled you close. „She’s our mom. How can they even argue about that?“, he mumbled into your hair.

„Wait, hold on. You’re Diego’s girlfriend?“, Vanya asked.

„Wife, actually. And it’s none of your business“, Diego lifted his head to look at her.

„Diego, seriously? Shouldn’t you guys stick together right now? This is your mom. You shouldn’t argue with your siblings when you’re trying to avoid your mom’s death“, you jumped in.

„You can’t just throw that word around like that. But you’re right. At least she doesn’t want to kill mom.“

„Diego? Married? To you? Seems fake, but okay“, a tall, beautiful woman you identified as Alison came up to your group.

„Diego is married? What? Are you a robot like mom? Then again, he probably couldn’t build that, could he?“, a man who was probably two meters tall, Luther, came up beside Alison.

„(Y/N), my dearest, these two are evil“, Klaus said throwing himself onto you and pulling you out of Diego’s grasp in the process.

„Granny Grace and I made cookies, daddy, look“, (Y/S/N) came back from the direction he had taken off into earlier, Grace following him.

As your son proudly held a plate of cookies out to his dad and Klaus started nibbling on one the rest of the siblings stared at the scene in shock.

Grace smiled. „Is there a problem?“

#diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves #the umbrella academy

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Me and You Together, 4/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: fam this response is crazy it really is…thank u all so much for the love, kudos and comments, i’m so sorry if i’ve not managed to reply to urs yet but know that i’ve read them all and cherish every one and i will get round to replying and yelling some love and thanks at u soon!!! pls enjoy this chapter in which A'whora does not possess the flat’s shared brain cell at any point. that being said, i wish all the readers of this fic a very pleasant italicised ‘oh’ xo

last chapter: January-Tayce and A’whora still had unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December.

this chapter: October- The gang make plans for their first year together, Tia gives everyone plans for the evening, and A'whora has a realisation that will change the dynamic of her friendship with Tayce forever.

***

“Bimini, what is it you’re actually doing?”

A’whora’s intrigued by the way her flatmate’s sitting on the sofa: legs crossed, notepad in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and looking deep in thought. They’ve not long since stretched over the smoke detector with a sock, having long since established nobody in the flat minds them smoking indoors as long as the windows are open. Lawrence is beside them on the other end of the sofa having been to all the lectures that’re required of her already today and has got a bright pink, blue and purple-flecked ball of yarn hanging from two knitting needles, with which she seems to be knitting some sort of cosy accessory. It’s a wholesome picture that’s playing out in front of A’whora, one that’s miles away from the raucous, drunk nights they’ve all shared in the first month of uni so far.

“Okay, here’s what it is,” Bimini starts, clicking their long nails together. “I am making us a freshers bucket list, and I want your input.”

“Ooh!” Lawrence perks up beside them, and A’whora, interest piqued, picks up the bowl of pasta, butter and cheese she’s spent all of five minutes making and crosses the room to sit beside her flatmates.

She knows it’s only been a month so far, but she really loves everyone she’s living with. For a start, there are four of them that take classes at the art college (the ‘art hoes’, as Tayce calls them), so they all get to walk to lectures together and hang about between classes and workshops with each other depending on how their days are going. Bimini is almost always in the flat, with not a lot of contact hours making up their journalism degree, so they’re a comforting presence for A’whora to come home to at whatever hour of the day, always asking how she is and always offering to make her coffee. Tia is sweet and funny (if ever-so-slightly grating to her at first) and they’ve bonded over being the only two flatmates seemingly able to keep the place clean and tidy. Lawrence is endearing and big-hearted, if A’whora spends half her life hoping that her next prank isn’t involving her in some way (Ellie is usually the butt of them). Ellie herself is one of A’whora’s closest flatmates; they’ll often stay up half the night finishing prototypes or assignments together, all while watching a film which they have spookily similar taste in- they’ve agreed on 101 and 102 Dalmatians, Hocus Pocus, and The Wizard of Oz so far.

And then there’s Tayce, who A’whora thinks is both the absolute carbon copy of herself and yet also so different, the yin to her yang. Tayce has been her closest friend in the flat since day one when she booted the door to her room down and dragged her out of her emotional stupor, and that’s really what’s set the tone for the rest of their friendship; Tayce, upbeat and motivating, constantly and infectiously helping A’whora feel the same way even when she doesn’t want to go out, or doesn’t feel like dragging herself out of her room for a chill flat night with the others, or even when she just feels like a heap of shit. She’s such a fun and positive person to be around, relentlessly optimistic and goofy, and she brings out that side of A’whora too. As opposed to during sixth form and high school, where she’d put up a front to make sure nobody fucked with her, A’whora finds that at uni she can be the person she truly is and let her guard down a little.

This includes being open about her sexuality for the first time ever. She’s out to her family (for the better or worse), but nobody else back home knows (not even her friends) and she wants to keep it that way for now. But at uni things are different- nobody knows her here, nobody has these preconceived ideas of who she is and who she has to be, so she’d taken the plunge and been open about everything. None of the others had cared of course, in fact they’d all been too excited about the fact there’s not a single straight person in their flat comprised of four lesbians (Tayce, Lawrence, Tia and A’whora), one bi (Ellie) and one pan (Bimini).

“What’ve you got so far?” A’whora asks Bimini, sitting down on the sofa opposite her two flatmates.

Bimini reads off their notepad. “Casino night, bottomless brunch…get the train down to Newcastle, have a big night out, stay out all night an’ get the first train home-”

“Christ, that’ll be a challenge for me, you know I get sleepy around midnight,” Lawrence chuckles.

Bimini shrugs. “We’ll just get you an IV drip of Ellie’s Monster, you’ll be alright.”

“What else’ve you got?”

“That’s it so far.”

A’whora spears a pasta spiral, tilts her head in thought as she eats it. “Get drunk in a lecture.”

“Aw, good one!” Lawrence cries enthusiastically. Bimini, for their part, frowns with disapproval.

“Wait, no! Not a good one. Not a good one at all. It’s alright for you art school bitches, you’ve got some lectures together and you can coordinate, where does that leave me n’ Tia?”

“I guess that leaves you…downing a bottle of five pound chardonnay on the back bench of a lecture hall like a tramp with a drinking problem,” Lawrence shrugs, A’whora yelping out a laugh as Bimini shoves Lawrence with their foot.

Just then, there’s movement in the hall and as A’whora turns around she’s greeted by the sight of a tired-looking Tayce and Ellie walking into the kitchen. They shrug off their coats and take off their shoes and dump their bags on the kitchen table with a huff before they walk over to the others. Tayce spreads herself out over the sofa that A’whora’s sitting on, thudding her feet onto her lap without asking permission, to which A’whora instantly pushes them off her and gets a glare and a smirk in return.

“Lawrie, are you knitting?” Ellie laughs, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“Yeah? And?”

Ellie snorts in amusement. “Just didn’t realise we were living with a wee granny.”

“Well actually, bawbag! I was in the middle of making you a scarf because I can’t stand to listen to you talking shite about how you’re cold every time we leave the flat, but I can leave it if you want,” Lawrence explains. A’whora thinks it’s funny how Ellie backtracks immediately; she can’t tell if she’s blushing or just out of breath from scaling their block’s stairs. Bimini gains control of the conversation, tilting their head in intrigue.

“How were your lectures, huns?”

“Shit, thanks for asking,” Tayce groans, thudding her head down dramatically against the sofa cushions. “I don’t know, I just can’t concentrate when I’m getting talked at for an hour at a time. I need to be doing stuff, you know?”

“Feel that,” Ellie joins in, deflated. A’whora can sympathise- she loves the practical elements of her course, but not so much the lectures. She’s glad she shares a lot of them with Ellie, and the two of them can dick about and text each other and doodle designs in their notebooks while keeping one ear on whoever’s speaking.

“Well if you want to be doing something, you can help us with this,” Bimini suggests, explaining the bucket list they’ve been making.

The girls get settled and the ideas start to flow, Lawrence putting her speakers on for background noise as they all come up with new and increasingly more chaotic exploits. Ellie suggests trying every cocktail in Levels which gets scribbled down into Bimini’s notepad, and Tayce suggests going to Levels sober, which doesn’t get afforded the same appreciation. A’whora comes up with crashing the catered halls for breakfast one day, which they all agree is a good idea but the chances of it actually happening are low considering the earliest riser in the flat is Tayce and even she doesn’t waken up til half nine on a weekend.

“What’re some clubs we’ve not been to yet?” Bimini asks, shrugging. “Could put those down, try an’ visit every one in the city?”

Lawrence snorts derisively. “You go to Underground if you want your phone stolen, Velvet if you want to be bullied by fifteen year olds in the toilets, and Crystal if you want to subject yourself to painful misogyny and probably some light sexual assault.”

“So none of those, then,” Bimini murmurs.

“Those are all really het as well, though,” Ellie wrinkles her nose up in distaste. Then her face lights up as she gets an idea. “Oh! Put down Pride in July.”

“Nice one,” Bimini nods as they scribble down Ellie’s suggestion, the others making little hums of approval.

The conversation goes on for quite some time. Halfway through it Tayce seems to decide she’s bored of lying down and instead moves to sit on the floor between A’whora’s legs, asking her to play with her hair. They’ll do this sometimes- it’s a routine they fall into, A’whora being able to style Tayce’s endlessly long, straight hair and Tayce finding the whole thing therapeutic. They have a lot of little routines like this: they’ll sit close together on the sofa during a flat movie night and take turns leaning on each others’ shoulders, spontaneously give each other hugs at random points throughout the day, trace patterns into each others’ palms when the other seems stressed.

It’s nice. A’whora’s never really had a friendship like this, soft and caring and kind. In school her group was the kind that made catty jokes about each other then buffered them with a “love you!” afterwards and took kissy-face group selfies only to bitch about each other on a private group chat mere hours later. If it was a wolfpack then it was rabid and cannibalistic, and it had seemed like a full-time job ensuring she was never the runt of it. What she’s got with all her flatmates now- especially Tayce- makes her feel like she can finally breathe.

“What about the Centurion Challenge?” Lawrence suggests with a small gasp, breaking A’whora’s reverie as she expertly twirls Tayce’s hair into a loose and chunky French plait.

“Jesus Christ, Lawrence,” Ellie mutters in amusement.

“What’s the Centurion Challenge?” Bimini asks, pulling a face.

Lawrence gives a blythe shrug as she elaborates. “A hundred shots in a hundred minutes.”

A’whora ruins Tayce’s braid in shock, her hair untwisting itself from the braid as if it’s outraged too. The cry she gives joins in harmony with that of Tayce’s and Bimini’s. “A hundred shots? You’d fucking die!”

“Not of vodka! Obviously not of vodka! I know we all have one communal brain cell between us but Christ, can one of yous not use it?!” Lawrence protests. “It’s a hundred shots of beer. Don’t shit yourselves.”

“Aw, well that’s alright then,” Bimini pipes up sarcastically. “What’s actually wrong with Scottish people? Is your breastmilk spiked with whiskey? What d’you get instead of Cow and Gate formula, just cocaine?"

“Actually, a hundred shots of beer sounds more doable to me,” Tayce shrugs, and A’whora can feel her relax against her lap.

“I’d need to change it, I can’t stand beer,” A’whora considers. Ellie cocks her head in consideration.

“Well what alcohol do you like?”

“Fucking none of it,” A’whora laughs. “Cocktails. Vodka cokes. Anything where there’s juice to cover it up.”

Tayce twists her head to look up at her, a little twinkle of mischief in her eye. “I think the challenge ceases to be a challenge when it’s reduced to one hundred watered down shots of Woo Woo, Rory.”

As the others blurt out a laugh A’whora glares down at Tayce, but she can’t help but break out into a giggle too when Tayce grabs her knee and gives it a playful wobble, letting her know she was only joking without even having to say a thing.

A’whora’s not sure what time it is when she hears the front door swing shut and Tia emerges from the hallway, her long hair all messed up from the seemingly ever-present wind outside and almost obscuring the bright smile plastered on her face. “Hey, huns!”

“Oi oi,” Tayce greets her from her position on the floor. “What’s got you so smiley?”

“Nooothing,” Tia smirks, dragging the word out playfully. “Just got an invite to the night out of a very cute girl in my MT society…and she said you guys can all come too. Pres at her flat and then out to The Avenue. Evening plans sorted?”

“Oh, love that!” Bimini gives an enthusiastic clap. “Go on then, who’s the girl? Whose night are we crashing?”

“Her name’s Veronica,” Tia smiles bashfully. “She’s so lovely. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind you coming! She’s got one of the big flats over at Gourock Court so it’s not like it’ll be packed.”

“You don’t exactly want to go to a party that’s not going to be packed,” Ellie screws up her nose. She looks unimpressed and her tone is flat. “And even if it is, I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a flat party with a ton of new people, Tia.”

A’whora’s face drops and she locks eyes with Lawrence simultaneously, who’s got an equally incredulous look on her face. “Els, are you unwell? You never turn down a night out.”

Ellie shrugs quietly, not giving much away on her face. Tia, obviously keen to move to the girl she’s crushing on, carries on persuading her. “C’mon, Eleanor, don’t be such a fucking…square! It’s the musical theatre society, we’re just a walking Pride festival who all happen to be able to hold a tune. There’s loads of fit lesbians?”

“Well if I wasn’t convinced before, I sure am now,” Tayce purrs, a little smile appearing on her lips and a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. A’whora feels her laugh come out weakly. She doesn’t know why, but an odd, uncomfortable feeling lodges itself in her gut. She can’t quite put her finger on what exactly it is or why it’s put itself there.

“And there’s gonna be so many musicals on the playlist!” Tia continues to insist, despite being met with Ellie’s sour face. “I know you’ll love it! They’d probably even play stuff from Shrek if you got them drunk enough.”

A’whora can’t help but scrunch up her nose in distaste. “Hey, I’m only coming if they play fucking…normal people music as well. I’m not gonna be sat in a room with twenty white kids trying to rap to Hamilton or whatever the fuck it is.”

Tia rolls her eyes, plants her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Calm down, A’whora, you’ll still get all the top 40 dance-pop shit you love so much.”

“To be honest, it sounds class. And The Avenue’s always good,” Bimini cuts in calmly. A’whora does have to agree with that. They’ve not been there in a while- the bar across the road from the city’s most popular LGBT club- and its selection of early 00s pop princess tracks combined with its deal of two vodka mixers and a shot for a fiver makes it a guaranteed good night out.

“Well it seems like we’re all down, even if this stroppy cow isn’t,” Tia smiles happily, sticking her tongue out at Ellie for good measure. Ellie finally heaves a world-weary sigh, rolling her eyes dramatically as she relents.

“Ugh, fine! Fine, but this Verruca or whatever the hell she’s called better be the hottest bitch on the planet for you to drag us all out with your MT weirdos, Tia Maria,” she grumps. Tia ignores her bad mood and lets out a cheer which the others join in with, and A’whora resolves to interrogate Ellie about her Bitter Betty attitude later on. Preferably when they’re both drunk. That always makes things easier.

In the melee of excitement, Tayce twists round from her position on the carpet, folds her arms and rests them on top of A’whora’s thighs. “Right. You need to come help me choose an outfit if we’re going out. I need to look fit.”

A’whora smiles with pride. “Ooh, personal stylist duties? I’m honoured.”

“Well I’m hardly gonna ask Tia, am I?” Tayce giggles quietly, and A’whora joins in like it’s a little secret they’re sharing. “Or Ellie. She’d just send me out in one of her bodysuit/skirt combos. I swear to God that girl is like Marge bloody Simpson. Open up her wardrobe and she’ll have twenty sets of the same outfit. Serial killer behaviour, that.”

At this point A’whora is laughing so much that it draws the attention of the others, who eye them with suspicious stares. “What the hell’s so funny?”

A’whora gives Tayce a mischievous look. “Tayce just called Ellie a serial killer.”

Tayce yelps in outrage at having been called out, and as Ellie narrows her eyes Tayce leaps up from the floor and tugs A’whora off of the sofa with her. “That’s taking it out of context, you absolute hound! Come on, help me pick something.”

Tayce’s fingers stay curled around A’whora’s hand all the way down the corridor and into her bedroom. It’s a feeling that A’whora likes because it makes her feel close to her friend, and Tayce taking her hand is like an affirmation and a reassurance all in one; that she likes her, that their friendship has reached the level where hand-holding has become acceptable, that A’whora is worthy of being liked, of being someone’s friend- their real, proper friend. The validation sets her heart off like a flare. It’s nice to feel wanted.

A’whora perches on the edge of Tayce’s bed as she scrapes the coat hangers in her wardrobe and throws outfits onto the bed like a tornado, each more gorgeous than the last and all ones Tayce would look stunning in. That’s something that always strikes A’whora about Tayce; just how beautiful she is, how absolutely blessed with the God-given good genes. The way she looks serene and ethereal without makeup, walking to lectures in the morning with the sun hitting her face and giving her skin a glow. The way she paints for a night out and knows how to accentuate everything about her face that’s already perfect, a feat that would seem like an exaggeration if A’whora hadn’t seen it for herself to confirm it’s true. She frequently finds herself having to hold back from giving compliments to Tayce because if she started she’d never stop.

“Okay, first thoughts are…” Tayce announces unnecessarily loudly, and A’whora laughs at the way she’s talking as if she’s a stylist on a morning TV show. “…I’m thinking something black.”

“Of course you are,” A’whora interrupts with a laugh. “Tayce wearing black. How predictable.”

Tayce gives her a shove on the shoulder that’s too hard and makes her fall back against the mattress. “Shut up! I’ll wear something other than black when Lawrence wears something other than purple, how’s about that?”

The pair of them giggle at the joke as Tayce rifles through the clothes she’s shortlisted, holding up a black leather jacket and a black bralet with an intricate lace hem. The combination makes A’whora’s eyes fly wide open in appreciation.

“This?” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her inquisitively. The fact she’s obviously seen her reaction makes A’whora feel a little self-conscious and she doesn’t particularly know why. “Because I’m wanting to wear either my wet-look leggings or my black vinyl skirt with the zip up the front, and I don’t know if that’s too much leather effect stuff?”

“It’s too much,” A’whora nods, physically unable to help her honesty. “Also I think you should wear the skirt because you’ve got good legs and you should get them out any chance you get. But also the bralet won’t go with it because it’ll make your proportions all wrong.”

Tayce smiles appreciatively as she throws the bralet back into her wardrobe as if A’whora’s given her a command and not a suggestion. “See, this is another reason why you’re the queen of outfit advice. Bimini wouldn’t give me this level of honesty, they’re too nice.”

A’whora feels a warmth spread in her chest at the compliment, but she doesn’t show it. Instead she snorts, nods in agreement. “Yeah, because you could come out dressed in a pair of child’s pyjamas and they’d still say they love it. They’d say it’s very Y2K or something.”

Tayce lets out a cackle before holding up the skirt and leather jacket, humming in thought. “Okay, so you’re saying ditch the jacket but keep the skirt.”

“Yes.”

“And ditch the bralet.”

“Yes.”

“So you want me to go out in a skirt and a pair of heels and nothing else,” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her, and as A’whora bursts out laughing and protests she has to fight off a blush at the thought of her best friend topless in heels. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt with a zip that could just be pulled down to leave her in-

The heat floods A’whora’s face like she’s been smacked and she shifts on the bed in an attempt at dissipating the feelings that’ve hit her like a tsunami. Inappropriate. Weird. Way too weird. Don’t do that again.

“What about the bright blue fur coat you’ve got? Because you could have an all black outfit with that as a bit of colour,” she suggests, shrugging lightly in an attempt to pretend that she hadn’t just been thinking about Tayce in the way she had.

Tayce’s face lights up and she points at A’whora with one hand and reaches into her wardrobe with the other. “Love that. Okay, top?”

“Are you addressing me? I’ve never topped for anyone,” A’whora attempts a joke. If Tayce can make jokes like that to her then she can do it right back.

“That’s very clear, baby,” Tayce shoots in response without missing a beat. Before A’whora realises it, she’s flexing her toes. What the fuck is happening to her? She needs to steer this conversation back on track.

She thinks for a second. “You’re a size eight, right?”

“In theory. The amount of pot noodles I’ve been chucking down my neck since I moved in is very quickly rendering that a distant memory, I’ll tell ya,” Tayce says, as she leans against the door of her wardrobe and folds her arms.

“I’ve got a black lace bodysuit that would go with that. It’s a ten so it’ll fit. D’you want to try it?”

“Well despite the fact a skirt and a bodysuit was the very thing I just roasted Ellie for always wearing…that sounds lush. Thanks, Rory Roo,” Tayce agrees, the nickname-of-a-nickname setting off the click of a small pilot light in A’whora’s heart. She’s about to ask if she wants to come try it on just now when she hears both their names being yelled from the kitchen.

The pair of them head back through to find that Tia has changed the playlist on the speakers from the chilled-out, calm acoustic one that had been playing to her early 00’s tunes. Combined with Bimini half-singing, half-yelling along to Murder on the Dancefloor and the blast of the extractor fan as Ellie stirs something in a big metal pot at the hob, it’s a far cry from the calm, cosy scene that A’whora had witnessed in the kitchen some hours prior.

Ellie had been the one who had shouted on them, and she whips around from the cooker when she realises that Tayce and A’whora have come through. “I’m making dinner for me, Bims and Tia, you wanting some?”

“Depends what it is. Come on, talk it up, Ellie. Give us some options,” Tayce shrugs with feigned disinterest, and A’whora can’t help the bubble of laughter that bursts from her mouth as Ellie narrows her eyes at her.

“It’s spaghetti and meatballs, and your alternatives are fuck off or die,” she shoots back savagely, and the whoop of shock and laughter that goes up from the others soars above the music and the fan. Tayce laughs good-naturedly in spite of the barb.

“I’m joking, ‘course I’ll take some.”

A’whora wrinkles her nose. “You’re making meatballs for a meal that Bimini is gonna eat?”

“They’re not real ones, dipshit,” Bimini pipes up from over on the sofa. “It’s that Birdseye Green Cuisine shit, innit.”

“Birdseye Green Cuisine shit,” A’whora repeats disdainfully. “If you ever go on The Apprentice, Bim, Alan Sugar’s gonna shit himself at your selling abilities.”

Tayce snorts, tries and fails to cover it up. When her eyes rest on A’whora they share a little smile, and A’whora’s grows bigger when she thinks about the way they’re both so in sync all the time.

“They’re nice, I promise! Veronica’s talked them up loads, she told me she’s been trying to eat more veggie things,” Tia insists, with an entirely unnecessary namedrop of her crush. A’whora relents and says she’ll have a small bowl before jumping out of her skin as Ellie bangs the spoon against the pot somewhat aggressively with a face like thunder.

Before A’whora can ask Ellie about her bad mood, Tia speaks again as she scrolls her phone to change the song. “Honestly, Ellie, you’re a star for doing dinner. Thanks so much.”

“Aw, don’t be silly, doll! It’s nothing!” Ellie turns around from the hob and bats the compliment away, shooting Tia a dazzling smile in return. It’s funny the way her demeanour seems to instantly do a complete 180 at the praise, and it makes A’whora wonder what’s changed.

She’s distracted, though, by the way Lawrence enters in her dressing gown with her hair up in a towel, obviously having come straight from the shower. She pouts and whines in a very un-Lawrence way as she lingers at the doorframe between the hall and the kitchen.

“Guysss, does anyone have an ID they can give me for tonight?”

“What about your friend? Who was it…Rosé?” A’whora shrugs, and Lawrence fixes her with a wide-eyed stare of incredulity.

“Oh my God, A’whora! I never thought about asking the girl I’ve been borrowing ID from since the start of uni! Thanks for that!” she says sarcastically, Bimini giving a yelp of laughter and A’whora leaning off the countertops and swiping at Lawrence in retort. “She’s using it. She asked her girlfriend and her flatmates for me but they’ve all got plans. I felt like a fuckin’ daytime TV charity advert.”

“For just one pound a week, you could help an underaged child get blackout drunk on triple trebles,” A’whora puts on a dramatic, concerned voice, proud of the way it makes Tayce blurt out a laugh.

“It’s such fucking bullshit,” Lawrence huffs, leaning against the fridge and folding her arms. “I mean my eighteenth’s in five days and I’ve been drinking in parks since I was fourteen, how can I not just be let into a fuckin’ bar?”

“Grow up and order a fake one,” Ellie shakes her head with incredulity, smashing the wooden spoon against the pot again with a bang-bang-bang to get the excess pasta sauce off.

“Just you pipe down, hen, you shouldn’t even be at uni. In fact, have you even completed primary yet?”

The two girls stick their tongues out at each other, a mirror-image of petty bickering that makes A’whora laugh. Luckily Bimini steps in, shrugging as they open their purse.

“Here, babe. I’ve still got my course friend’s provisional from when she dropped it on Gordon Street when she was off her face. I ain’t given her it back yet an’ I’m sure she wouldn’t care if you borrowed it. She’s chill.”

Lawrence accepts enthusiastically, bouncing over to Bimini and thanking them gratefully. A’whora watches her face drop, though, when she takes a look at the photo.

“There’s no way this’ll work.”

Bimini tuts and shakes their head, the picture of casual composure. “It’s fine, babes, they never look properly anyway.”

Lawrence drops the hand that’s holding the license to her side and fixes her friend with an astounded glare. “Bimini. This girl is black.”

As the others screech with outrage and mirth, Bimini waves Lawrence’s concerns away blithely. “It’ll be dark! It’s fine! Asttina an’ you have both got similar…well…you’re both girls, an’ you’re about the same height. Give or take a few inches.”

“Christ. I’m going to have to just forward roll past the bouncers, aren’t I? Then draw a fuckin’ club stamp on my arm in Sharpie.”

“Oh my God, stop moaning!” Ellie sighs from her position at the hob, bangs the spoon again for emphasis. “Look, I’ll ask Pippa from flat 2, alright? You both have brown hair, so…that’ll probably be enough.”

A’whora thinks it’s interesting the way Lawrence doesn’t shoot something back in her foghorn of a voice like she normally does. Instead she smiles warmly, dashes over to the kitchen where she hugs Ellie from behind, squeezing her tightly at the stomach and making her flinch in surprise.

“Thanks, Ellie-Bellie,” she sing-songs, swaying her aggressively from side to side until Ellie bats her away, flicking the spoon in a way that threatens to shower them both in marinara sauce.

“Right, that’s plenty. Don’t even do things I enjoy for that long.”

“When’s this gonna be ready, Els?” Bimini shouts through as Lawrence lets go. “ ‘Ave I got time to do my makeup before it?”

Ellie shrugs. “If you can do your makeup in ten minutes.”

A’whora kicks her leg out in Tayce’s direction and jerks her head towards the hall. “Do you want to try on that bodysuit before tea?”

Tayce nods enthusiastically in agreement, so they go back along the corridor with a shout to the others telling them they won’t be long. A’whora holds the door of her room open for Tayce and her heart sinks in embarrassment when she realises she forgot to make her bed this morning.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologies, to which Tayce gives a cry of a laugh in response.

“A’whora, have you seen my room? You’re fine, kid, don’t worry.”

A’whora thinks that’s true- Tayce’s room is a state, but somehow it seems to suit her. Tayce’s room with the crowded bulletin board, desk covered in sweet wrappers and sketches, floor carpeted with clothes that need washed and outfits that didn’t make the cut. The cracked picture frame on her window-sill of the first selfie the six of them all got together on the first night of freshers and the huge cheese plant that sits next to her bedside table, Tayce’s pride and joy. They’re all little intricate shards that join up to form a perfect picture of her personality, and A’whora thinks it’s sort of perfect.

She looks out the bodysuit from its neatly Marie Kondo-d place in her wardrobe and hands it gently to Tayce. “Try it and see. It’s a small 10 anyway so it’ll probably be fine for you.”

Tayce accepts it gratefully and hooks a finger around both of the straps, letting the rest of the material fall out of its perfectly folded little parcel. She gives a little gasp of appreciation as she looks at it. “Oh yes, baby. I think this’ll do just fine.”

A’whora feels good- proud that she’s managed to find the perfect piece for Tayce’s outfit, to help her look as inevitably gorgeous as she knows she will. The smile on her face falters, though, when Tayce shoots her a wink and leans against the wall with her shoulder. “This is gonna get me someone I can pop off my acrylics for, I can tell. You’ve got the best taste, girl.”

“Are you actually going to try and get with someone tonight?” A’whora injects a laugh into her question that she’s banking on sounding genuine, otherwise it comes across as accusatory and that’s not what she means it to be. Or is it? She doesn’t know. “You know how messy nights at The Avenue always get. Last time we were there Lawrence got so drunk she told us she couldn’t see, remember?”

Tayce laughs her off with a shrug. “Well then I’ll just have to be careful with my drinks, won’t I?”

A’whora gives a false laugh, tries so hard to get it to meet her eyes. Why is she so pressed about this? She gets with girls on nights out too, she’s brought the occasional one night stand to the flat. Tayce is allowed to do the same.

So why does she feel ever so slightly gutted?

If her smile looks fake (which it is) then Tayce doesn’t notice, and she only shoots her a smile as she opens the bedroom door. “You’re an angel. I’ll pop this on then be back in five.”

A’whora takes the opportunity of Tayce having left to make her bed, and as she does so she feels lots of little thoughts dart around her mind like minnows, none of them staying in the same place for long enough to be able to be deciphered. She manages to catch a few before they flee away and she clings to them, turning them over in her head: why does she feel so bothered about the prospect of Tayce finding a girl at the party, talking to her and making a connection and laughing at her jokes? Why had it felt like a punch to the gut when Tayce was joking about doing so? Why does she have this part of her that feels like an idiot for setting Tayce up to look her best and knowing that it’s for the benefit of somebody else, somebody that doesn’t know her like she does?

And then her bedroom door opens and A’whora turns around and lays eyes on her best friend. Tayce in her high heels and bare legs and the skirt with the zip. Tayce with her baby blue fake fur coat and her straight, dark hair tumbling over its shoulders. Tayce in the bodysuit- A’whora’s bodysuit- with the lace and the mesh that clings to her chest like it was designed just for her. There’s something about the fact that she’s wearing something that belongs to A’whora that makes something inside her chest tingle, the fact it’s a little piece of her in Tayce’s jigsaw puzzle that seems to fit regardless of the difference.

“What d’you think?” Tayce smiles, all too aware of how drop-dead stunning she looks.

And then the realisation hits A’whora like a train.

Oh.

Fuck.

She’s screwed.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ortega #me and you together #taywhora #uk2 #lesbian au #university au #british au #college au #freshers au #roommate au #tayce #a'whora #friends with benefits to lovers #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #bimini bon boulash #tia kofi

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sevenheven7011 · 3 years ago

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More things about Max's parents

Ok so basically with max's dad if you watched epithet erased imagine if Molly's dad was constantly being hunted down by bounty hunters people he pissed off scammed ect and he started begging Molly to fix it with promises he'll take care of the store if she does she goes through hell and back almost gets set on fire comes back and he's either straight up gone or says he forgot when she reminds him of his promise later or cancels on her last minute when about to do the promise max's dad is basically that the only reason max is attached to him for a while is he was like the lesser evil out of the two he was fun to hang out with in the brief moments he was there he'd throw him money to catch an ice cream truck give him head ruffles and small snippets of affection here and there to get him off his back and yeah he felt a bit dismissed when he'd take the drawings max made for him and scribbled heist plans on the back or disheartened when he missed his talent show or said a simple mh hm your mom's right clearly more caught up in whatever was in the fridge when Max asked him to get mom off his back one time but like those small moments with him meant a lot especially with a mom constantly berating him maybe he grew more distant with his dad when granny ruth and sam showed up and he had people actually willing to spend more time with him but dad probably does some guilt tripping too to keep him around

Mom grew up with parents who gave her constant praise even when she didn't really do anything to deserve it she could do no wrong in their eyes and when others pointed stuff out that she did bad her parents would rush in and say no you cut forward to adulthood and her entitled ass is constantly being shot down when she hands in her subpar books now when I say shot down what I really mean is gently pushed away and critiqued but she can't handle that she feels wronged by the world it's not that her books are bad it's the publishers fault anyways bullying max is a power trip for her and she's taking it out at him cause she's frustrated about not getting her books published if she gets called out she'll either get really heated or will bring out the water works and play the victim she probably gaslights max by saying he's exaggerating what she says to him too

Basically dad is inspired by every dead beat dad ever with the cheerfulness of characters like Molly's dad the guy from the Simpson and any immature dad in sitcoms ever making him was easy

Mom was difficult I made her too intimidating at first pulled inspirations from mother gothel and such now I realize what a sniveling worm she is and her inspiration is that lady with the wine and typewriter from ghost trick (atleadt the few clips I've seen of that character) she's a bit of inspiration along with typical karens and me thinking of granny ruth kicking her ass also superego acts like he's very deep and is just a pompous fuck all around and since his nature is inspired by max's upbringing it makes sense that max's mom thinks she's highbrow writes fantastical mind-blowing novels watches fancy stuff on the TV and is entitled she feels very above everyone else and feels like she really drew the short end of the stick with her mess of a husband and her kid (or kids if I wrote max with siblings i don't think he'd be close with any of them I probably won't go too deep into them rn but I will say if mom was on the typewriter they'd cause huge ruckuses and shit and make her scream til she turns purple cause karma is a bitch and she deserves no peace)

I want to note while never psychically hurt what he goes through is still pretty damaging

#sam and max #tw neglect #tw abandonment #tw toxic family #tw emotional manipulation #tw max's family #tw gaslighting #tw guilt tripping #fuck these guys

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mizumelona · 5 years ago

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set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

NOTE: Did I stay up too late writing this? Possibly. Was it worth it? Yes. This final arc was loosely inspired by some hc’s I requested from lin at @sugardaddykenma, so this chapter and the next are dedicated to her. ily haha.

MASTERLIST

PREV | IS THIS A DATE? | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106 @kasandrafaye @veggytaled @svtbitch @stinkyobeymerat @hollypastl @differentballooncollection @o51oc @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper @kaisemieita @rizamendoza808 @tomo-uwu @sugardaddykenma @celinafeng @ravioliplease @thatpersonwithissues @humanbobjeanpants @suteorra @jh-bee

Outside Sendai Stadium. FRIDAY 9:05PM

Unlike her prickly personality, [y/n]’s hand was warm. Atsumu’s foul mood from losing the game had already blown over, but he didn’t feel like letting go and she hadn’t shaken him off either. Either she was really an airhead and hadn’t noticed or more likely she knew and didn’t mind. He brought his free hand up to his face to cover his smile.

He thought back to her failed dates. Knowing her personality, it wasn’t surprising that she was struggling in the romance department. This girl had the kinda ego that made an average guy retreat. But Atsumu Miya wasn’t an average guy. He admired the way she was hot-headed and shameless, and he’d be lying if he said the way she confidently took shots at him didn’t stir up some kind of feeling.

Atsumu chuckled.

“What’re you laughing at?”, she turned to him with that cute teasing look that suited her far more than any demure smile.

“Nothin’”

You looked up at Atsumu confused. He’d started laughing to himself out of the blue. What a weirdo.

Atsumu’s stomach rumbled.

You snickered. “Haven’t eaten yet?”

“Nah. Eatin’ before games doesn’t really work for me.”

You nodded in response. “Want to grab some food then?”

“Yeah. I’m starvin’. I know a really good curry restaurant near here. Wanna go?”

“Sounds good. Don’t tell Osamu, but I’m getting a little tired of onigiri.”

“Hah. No promises sweetheart.”

“Jeez. Can’t count on you for anything can I?”

“Well if you’re askin’ I guess I could make an exception. Oh, it’s this way.” Atsumu pulled you in the opposite direction you were headed down a sidewalk path that was warmly lit by street lamps. His grip was still firm in yours.

“Ah here it is”, Atsumu stopped in front of a little shop with a warm aroma wafting out through the open front door. You two walked in and found an open table. The waiter stopped by to take your orders before disappearing into the kitchen.

Suddenly, something occurred to you. Wasn’t this kind of like…a date? Your face got warm thinking about it.

Soon the waiter returned with two plates of steaming katsu curry. Atsumu must’ve been starving because he quickly shoveled down spoonful after spoonful without stopping to talk. So this is the post-game appetite of a pro-athlete. Lol, date my ass.

“Ahh, that was great”, he said as he scraped the last of the curry off the plate. He gulped down the last of his water and let out a satisfied sigh, before leaning on his hand and looking at you. “So, what d’ya wanna do sweetheart?”

“Mm?” You hummed mid-spoonful of curry.

“You seemed pretty confident when you called me out earlier. What didja have in mind?”, He had his signature devious look. So troublesome.

You gulped your food down. “You already look like you’re in a good mood to me.”

“You don’t know that.” He crossed his arms and put on a faux melancholy look. “C’mon I can tell you and I are alike when it comes to this kinda thing. A plateful of curry isn’t enough to live down our losses”

You scoffed. “Our losses?”

“Plus we’re already here. Might as well do something.”

He had a point.

“Well…what do you like to do to blow off steam?”

“Eat.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“We just did that.”

“Play volleyball”

“Aren’t you tired of that for tonight?”

“No. Not at all”, His answer was matter-of-fact, like it was obvious. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of it.” He smiled. It was reminiscent of that childish grin he had when you saw him serve earlier.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “You must love it huh?”

“Nothin’ I love more.” His eyes were glimmering. His passion was almost tangible. You were taken aback.

“…I really respect that.” You shared your honest thoughts. Atsumu’s eyes went wide. He ruffled his hair.

“Woah. Two compliments from you? In one night? That’s unbelievable.”

“Hah.” You sighed. “I’m serious though. Having a passion. Madly chasing after it. That’s cool.”

“I dunno why you sound so amazed. Aren’t we the same when it comes to this kinda thing?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What makes you say that?”

He scoffed. “You’re tryna convince me that the workaholic chick that stays up all night designing shit and wins awards for her apps isn’t crazy passionate about what she does?”

It was your turn to be surprised. You’d been so fixated on how badly your love life had been going lately that you’d been letting it get to your confidence. But he was right. At the end of the day, you were one hardworking, passionate, badass bitch. You couldn’t hide your grin.

“Oh? Weak to compliments huh?”, He interrupted your thoughts.

“Shut up. I just didn’t expect to hear that from you”

The waiter came back with the check, which you and Atsumu split evenly. You both gathered your belongings and walked out the door.

“Wait a second”, Atsumu turned to you. “We never actually decided what we wanted to do.”

“Oh right”, You both stood awkwardly. You didn’t want to go home just yet, but you didn’t know what to do. You glanced around for ideas and spotted the glow of a vending machine in the distance. “Wanna grab a drink from the vending machine over there while we decide?”

“Sure.”, Atsumu said with a shrug. You both walked over to the vending machine and paused looking at the options. You spotted your favorite drink then started rummaging around in your bag looking for change.

“I can cover it”, Atsumu said and reached into his bag and pulled out a chubby froggy coin purse. It was surprisingly cute. He opened it up. “Whatcha want?”

“That’s a real cute coin purse. Not something that I’d expect you to have”

“Oh this?”, He held it up. “It was a birthday present from my granny”

“And you still carry it around? That’s even more cute.”

He rolled his eyes. “Ya gettin’ anythin’?”

“I’ll get a peach juice”

“One peach juice comin’ right up.” He dropped some coins into the machine and pressed two buttons. Your drinks fell down the chute with a clunk. He handed yours to you. You plopped down on a nearby bench and opened your drink with a satisfying pop. Atsumu sat down to join you.

You both sipped your drinks in silence, just looking out at the street. A few weeks ago, you never would’ve thought you’d be sitting here with Atsumu. You recalled the way you’d clashed at your first meeting, the spilled juice and the sweater on your second date, and the way he’d stuck around with you in the restaurant yesterday. You hadn’t known him for all that long, but somehow he was comfortable to be around. It was like you could be your greediest, nastiest, most shameless self and he wouldn’t look at you weird for it. Knowing Atsumu, he’d probably throw an even more shameless, petty comment back.

You turned to look at him. The glow of the vending machine illuminated his face, defining its contours. Again, it was like your stomach was filled with butterflies. Perhaps noticing your lingering gaze, Atsumu turned to look at you too.

“Thanks again”, A gentle smile formed on his lips. “Y’know, for coming to talk to me after the game.”

“No problem.” You shook your head. “I wasn’t lying when I said you looked cool tonight. Even if you didn’t win, I’d say you were pretty charming.”

He let out a playful chuckle. “Jeez if ya keep complimenting me like that I’m gonna fall for ya.”

You tossed your hair. “Like you aren’t already majorly crushing on me”

“How’d ya figure it out?”

You paused looking at him. He said it with his usual teasing tone, but why did he look sincere. Usually teasing him came easily, but right now you couldn’t think of any witty comeback. You tried to hit the breaks on the wave of butterflies rioting in your stomach, but couldn’t help but wonder. What if…

You had a thought. A stupid thought. A thought that you usually would’ve easily shot down. Maybe you were still sleep-deprived, maybe there was something in the curry, maybe the way he was looking at you was getting to you. You turned to Atsumu.

“Hey, Atsumu. I have a crazy idea.”

“Oh? What is it?”, he cocked his head to the side. It was absolutely unfair how handsome he looked while doing it.

You focused your last sane brain cell in trying to sound clever. “So…You’re petty. I’m petty. Wanna do something petty together?”

“Interestin’” He smirked. “What didja have in mind?”

This was a stupid idea. You couldn’t believe you were suggesting it. He was looking at you expectantly. It was too late to back out now.

“I have a family brunch with that shitty cousin I told you about next Sunday. What do you think of coming as my plus one to flex on him?”

“Oh-“

“Just for that day, could you pretend to be my boyfriend?”, You quickly clarified.

You weren’t sure what his feelings were. You weren’t even sure about what yours were, and even if you did you weren’t about to ask him to a family brunch on your first date. You just thought that if it was with Atsumu, maybe doing something stupid and petty like this might be fun.

His initial look of shock quickly devolved into a sly grin.

“A Fake date huh? Leave it to you to come up with somethin’ like that.” He shook his head. “What’s in it for me?”

“You get a chance to be shamelessly petty without consequence. Do you need anything more than that?”

“You’re gonna have to spice up the deal sweetheart”

“Ugh I know it’s kinda crazy if you don’t want to do it nevermin-“

“Woah woah. I never said I wasn’t interested. ” He held up his hands. “Fine it’s a deal, but if you’re askin’ for my help we aren’t half assin’ it”

A devious toothy grin spread across his face. Oof. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“I don’t like that look”

“First of all”, He held up a finger. “I’ll drive you there.”

That’s all? You let out a sigh of relief. “That wasn’t as bad as I was expectin-“

“Second of all”, he cut you off, “all PDA is fair game”,

You scoffed. “Excuse me? It’s a family function!”

“Do ya wanna put on a convincing act or what?”

“…fine”, You mumbled. “But kisses are off-limits!”

“What! Ya hafta gimme somethin’ to work with here”

This boy was really pushing his luck. He did have a point though. You thought about it for a second.

“Fine. Forehead and cheek kisses are okay” You yielded. “I’m not compromising beyond that though.”

“Okay that works, but if you wanna have a lil more of this just lemme know sweetheart”, he said with a wink.

“Keep dreaming lemon boy”, You stuck out your tongue. Atsumu frowned at the nickname.

“Again with the nicknames…actually, speakin’ of nicknames don’t ya think we should have some cute pet names for each other”

“Don’t you dare call me babe”

He took up a thinking position with his hand on his chin. “Honey? Sweetie?”, he tested a few out. Something about it felt weird like you’d convince yourself it wasn’t an act if he kept calling you that. That wouldn’t be good.

“Just call me sweetheart like you usually do”, you suggested.

“Oho has it grown on ya?”, he raised an eyebrow.

“What if it has?”

Atsumu’s witty comeback was stopped in its tracks. A pink haze appeared across his cheeks.

“Jeez what’s with you today?”, he said with a chuckle.

“You started it first.” You replied. “Also you aren’t the only one with ideas for this thing. I’m the one who’s had to put up with this shit for who knows how many years now.” Your mouth twisted into a sly smile.

“You sure can be scary sometimes sweetheart…I like it. So what are ya thinking?”

“So I here’s the plan…”

You two spent a solid hour talking through your plan before Atsumu finally drove you home. As you gathered your things to walk into the apartment complex, Atsumu turned to you.

“Hey. Today was a lotta fun. Let’s do it again sometime. Except next time I won’t lose.”

“Okay. Okay. Thanks again for the ride. See you later.”

You went upstairs and started your bedtime routine. Your phone buzzed as you got into bed. You picked it up and smiled as you saw the message.

Lemon Boy:

Did you make it up safely?

Shameless Wench:

Yeah. Gonna go to bed now.

Lemon Boy:

Okay. Good night y/n.

Your Apartment. SUNDAY 9:36AM.

Your doorbell rang.

“One second!”, you shouted, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. You ran over and pulled the door open. Atsumu leaned on the doorframe with a smirk.

“Let’s do this thing sweetheart”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #atsumu #atsumu x reader #set me up

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years ago

Text

99 PERSPECTIVES ON A SINGLE LOVE STORY #27

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Sebastian Smythe (The First Time)

Sebastian Smythe is bored. His plan is taking much longer to pull off than he originally intended; head to the bar by nine, have Blaine Anderson on his knees by ten, and by eleven, he’d be back home early enough to still troll the show choir chat blogs in his amusing quest to make future prima donnas cry, or at the very least, be able to get another dick pic to add to his collection. Instead, it’s been almost three hours, and having to hold onto the facade that he actually cares about either of them is getting tiring.

The problem isn’t Blaine. If Sebastian is pushed to admit the truth, he’d say his only interest in Blaine is the (most-likely) delicious cock he hides underneath the grandpa clothes he insists on wearing, as well as the knowledge that by fucking the Warblers’ most powerful (ex-)member, he’d finally have the control over the group he craves. The bonus being that he might get to put his cock up that juicy ass, or at least get Blaine’s dreamy mouth to suck him off. The thought of Blaine’s eyes wide and wanton as he takes Sebastian’s cock delights him. Sebastian’s been sure from the first time they met that Blaine is definitely not getting the physical attention he probably desires. And who better to give it to Blaine than himself?

No, if he is able to get Blaine alone, he is sure he could coax him into shedding the goody-two-shoes schoolboy image he insists on wearing.

The problem is the frigid, bitch of a boyfriend. Kurt Hummel might as well have a leash around Blaine’s neck, he is so possessive over him. The thought of a threesome had crossed Sebastian’s mind, but he couldn’t tolerate doing anything with someone more prudish than a Jane Austen character. God, he is so fucking annoying.

Blaine and Kurt had gone to the bathroom, leaving Sebastian at the bar alone. He has ordered another beer, not for himself, but for Blaine. Twice now he has been able to switch out Blaine’s bottles without noticing, and apparently, the more Blaine drinks, the looser he gets. It may take a little longer than expected, but if he can keep off Kurt, or get him to go home all together, Sebastian could easily slip in and make his move.

Sebastian smirks to himself, thinking again about all the things he would do to Blaine if he got him alone for just five minutes. As he’s waiting, he notices a very handsome college-aged guy down the bar who is looking in his direction. He gives a little wink, and well, maybe he has a plan b if he can’t pry Blaine out of Kurt’s delicate hands. He’s not sure how much more patience he has for his charade with Blaine and Kurt tonight. And College Guy is hot. Really fucking hot. College Guy also seems interested but before Sebastian can signal further, that dumb jock that used to go to McKinley sits between them. Asshole.

“Meeting your next love connection?” Kurt is back, taking the seat next to Sebastian. His eyes are narrowed and suspicious. It must be so exhausting always trying to measure up to someone who is superior.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why you have such an obsession with love, Kurt. Why bother with messy emotions when you can get right to the good stuff.” Sebastian wiggles his eyebrows. “Sex.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Kurt bites at him.

“Where’s Blaine?” Sebastian asks. “Or is Mommy allowing him to be a real boy and go to the potty all by himself.”

“Do you ever loosen up?” Sebastian asks casually. Kurt remains stoney faced at him. He’s got to admit, there’s something enjoyable about getting Kurt all riled up. “I’m guessing you haven’t enjoyed this evening one bit.”

“I have,” Kurt replies, though it’s clearly forced. “This place is…” Kurt looks around, though doesn’t seem to have any words. Sebastian smirks. “Well, I enjoy being able to dance with my boyfriend. Who loves me.”

“Dancing?” Sebastian scoffs. “Is that what you were doing tonight? It seems more like you’ve been having weird, alien seizures or something.”

Kurt gives a mocking laugh. “Well, at least I don’t look like a stiff metal pole that is being whacked into awkward angles.”

Sebastian can at least appreciate Kurt’s wit, even if it’s the only bit of personality he has. It makes the game more fun. “At least my pole has some sex appeal. Do you even have a dick, Kurt? Is that why your voice is so high? Because you actually belong in some butch lesbian commune?”

“Oh,” Kurt tilts his head viciously. “I hope you get so many STDs that they have to cut your dick off.”

“Weak, Kurt,” Sebastian says, shaking his head. “And here I thought you’d be a great verbal rival. At least you have your words -- because you’ll never be my sexual rival.”

Kurt completely stops the pretense, and unexpectedly, lays it all on the table. “Stop treating my boyfriend like a conquest.” Kurt’s all serious now. God, he’s so fucking boring and predictable. “You aren’t going to win.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Sebastian shoots back. “When push comes to shove, I’ll be able to deliver what Blaine really needs. Do you really think you’re any comparison?”

“Go fuck yourself, Sebastian. Oh wait, I doubt you can even pleasure yourself.”

Blaine comes back then, all smiley and very tipsy, and falls into Kurt. “Are you guys getting along?” he asks, his words slurring together.

“We’re having all the fun,” Sebastian says.

“Tons.”

Blaine wraps himself around Kurt, snuggling into him. “Kurt, you smell so good,” he says, a bit dreamily. Jesus, fuck, he’s such a lost cause. Sebastian can’t even fathom what Kurt’s appeal is. “We should dance really close so I can smell you more.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, standing up, not letting go of Blaine in the process. “It’s probably time we get you home.”

“Boys, the night is still early,” Sebastian insists.

“Yeah, it’s still early, Kurt,” Blaine echoes. “And I haven’t finished holding you.”

Kurt turns a slight shade of red. He tries to hide it, but Sebastian can tell what a poor sap he really is. “No, we’re going home now,” Kurt says again.

Sebastian is annoyed, but he glances over to where College Guy is still sitting at the bar, and thinks maybe the night isn’t a total loss.

“Do you need a ride, Sebastian?” Blaine offers.

Sebastian shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine. You guys go, wouldn’t want granny to miss her bedtime.”

Blaine looks at him confused, but Kurt shoots him a very dark look as they head out. Oh, this isn’t over by a long shot, Sebastian thinks, as he eyes Kurt back. The night may be over, and Kurt may think he’s won, but Kurt doesn’t know how tenacious Sebastian can be.

#s.o. writes things #99 perspectives

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holylulusworld · 5 years ago

Text

Sorry is not enough

Summary: It’s an eye for an eye and a life for a life tonight.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Reader, former OFC!Frank x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of forced marriage, mentions of domestic violence/physical & emotional abuse, protective Dean, hurt & comfort, violence, torture, blood, knife play (non-sexual), burning with cigarettes

Characters: Sam Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Ruby, Jimmy Novak, Arthur Ketch, Charlie Bradbury, Alex Jones and Impala the dog

A/N: Please head the trigger warnings for domestic violence which gets mentioned. Please also head the warnings for torture, blood, and violence.

A/N2: Part 3/3 to Too late to be sorry… & Never too late to be sorry

“Where is he?” Dean looks at the monitors, following Benny, Jimmy, and Ketch while they sneak around a house. “Is that bastard in there?”

“Take a deep breath, boss. Sit over there and just watch. The boys got this, okay. I hacked into the security system and made sure the phones won’t work.

He’s in there, along with his boss and partner who watched him hurt Y/N.” Charlie explains while she sips at her coke.

“You enjoy this a bit too much, Charlie. I guess working with me, and Sammy made you hard as steel.” Dean smirks as Charlie gives him a curt nod.

“Not hard as steel, boss. I know what we normally do isn’t exactly legal but, this is fun. Punishing an abusive asshole, his boss and partner - a good day for Charlie Bradbury and Team Winchester.” Snickering Ruby looks over Charlie’s shoulder.

“Sam insisted on going with them. He’s out for blood, you know, he never forgot about Y/N. Sam often told me she was like a sister when he was younger.” Ruby gets her knife out to clean her nails, a smirk on her lips. “Do I get the chance to cut one of those bastards? Please?”

“You can have the boss and partner. Treat the leftovers however you want to, Ruby. That bastard is mine.” Dean’s eyes narrow watching Benny break through the front door. “I reserved a special place in hell for him.”

“I guess that messing with Dean Winchester or his girl is a death sentence. Good thing I fuck your brother.” A smirk on his lips Dean crosses his arms over his chest.

“Won’t save you if you fuck us over. Now one messes with the Winchesters, not even a pretty little thing wrapping my brother's dick around her fingers. Be good, and we treat you well.

Be bad, you end up six feet under with my brand on your ass.” Ruby swallows thickly watching Dean’s arms bulge. “Not that Sammy does not like you, though.”

“Never thought about fucking you over. I prefer fucking your brother…” Charlie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Can you two stop talking about fucking or fucking someone over? I have to provide back-up for the boys. I need to be their eyes and ears. Now silence. Benny is about to go in…” Dean falls silent, just like Ruby when the minute's tick by.

“Benny, can you hear me? Can you give me a status update?” Concerned Charlie tries to reach her friend. “Got it. Can you repeat it? Good. Pack everything and bring him here.”

Watching Benny drag Frank’s partner out of the house via the dashcam in his car Charlie squeals. “That’s number one. Good job, Benny. Secure him and wait for my orders.”

“Awesome…” Dean gives Ruby a high-five chuckling lightly. “Don’t tell Sammy or he believes I start liking you.”

“Wouldn’t dream about it…” Ruby retorts.

“Sam, can you…oh-great. Hit him with your best shot big boy.” Squealing Charlie jumps up to do a little victory dance. “Sam got Frank, broke his hand, and drags him out now.”

“Damn, if he brings me that monster, you can marry, Ruby.” Blinking a few times Charlie giggles at Ruby’s pained expression. “What? You want my baby brother, make him an honest man…”

“Slow down, Winchester.”

“Guys, silence. I am trying to reach Jimmy, but he doesn’t answer. Give me a minute here.” Charlie ends the awkward situation. “Jimmy, can you…oh-yes. Confirming Sam and Benny got their targets. Perfect. Bring him out.”

“He got the boss?” Dean watches Jimmy drag Frank’s boss out of the house. “Say goodbye to your cozy home, bastard. Does he have family or the partner?”

“Had a wife, got divorced according to the information I gathered last night. Uh-huh-juicy. She accused him of having an affair with one of his colleagues. I bet my favorite pair of panties it was Frank.” Hands balled into fists Dean paces around the room.

“He let Frank hurt my girl as he was banging him? Are you fucking kidding me!”

“I guess you want to know why we brought you here?” Looking at the men, chained to chairs Dean smirks as Frank’s partner looks like a scared little mouse. “It’s because all of you were part of my girl’s misery.”

Frank’s head snaps upward and just now he recognizes Dean’s face. Sam can see the fear in your husband’s eyes as he tries to fight the gag in his mouth.

“What did you try to say?” Mocking Frank, Dean moves one hand behind his ear. “Didn’t get that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you worry, Frankie boy. You’ll get your chance to scream your lungs out later. For now, we want you to sign the divorce papers and for you to give everything you own to Y/N, your beloved wife. Later you will write a farewell note.”

Ruby circles the man, her favorite knife in her hands she slides it over Frank’s partner’s cheek, cutting deep enough to make him whine.

“Shush, little pig. Don’t be a girl about it, take it like a man.” Ketch leans against a wall, enjoying Ruby’s way to play with the men. “Wasn’t that exactly what he said to Y/N?”

“It was Arthur. My girl told me everything about that night. She finally gathered all her strength and called you, Michael Waters, her husband’s partner to ask you for help. She also called you, Victor Murdock, his boss.” Sam looks at your diary, the one you handed Dean days ago.

“Do you know what my girl wrote? You pigs came to her house and watched her husband hit her, hard enough to make her bleed, and lose a tooth.

When he was done hitting her, he got a belt and spanked her back, thighs and ass while you just watched him.” Dean’s eyes turn cold when Sam slams the diary shut.

“Ready or not…” Ketch snickers when Dean gets up to light a cigarette. “Here we come…”

Screams echo through the house and you wrap your arms tightly around ‘Impala’. You know Dean came back hours ago, Frank, his boss and his partner in tow.

“Everything is going to be alright, Impala. He’ll never hurt us again, baby. Promised. Dean will hurt him.” Sniffling you look at Alex who tries to ignore the men’s pleading. “If you want to go, Alex, I will understand.”

“My dad liked to push my mom around, Y/N. He always acted as if it was an accident, but I saw the bruises and the blue eyes he gave her.

I know what an abusive asshole looks like and Frank is one of the worst I ever met.” Alex sits next to you to squeeze your hand. “We will listen and remind ourselves, they deserve the worst…”

“Look at you with my girl's name written on your chest.” Dean muses while Ruby cuts the last letter of your name into Frank’s boss ' chest. He’s impressed by Ruby’s handiwork, even though, he would never tell her so.

“A masterpiece. Now…give me the salt.” Victor shakes his head furiously but Ketch hands Ruby the salt, a grin on his face. “I think you will look good covered in blood and salt, just like the pig you are…”

When he starts screaming again Ruby slaps his face. “Take it like a man, pig. Don’t you dare to lose consciousness, or I will carve my name into your dick.”

“She will do so, asshole. Believe me, my girl likes to carve her name into things and people.” Sam snickers at Victor’s pained expression. He grits his teeth, tries to breathe through the pain but Michael isn’t better.

While Ruby plays with Frank’s boss, Benny does the same to his partner. “Mine looks way better. Look, I carved a flower next to her name.” Ruby huffs, not caring about the rose Benny carved into Michael’s flesh.

“I think, we are done playing.” Dean claps his hands, still only staring at Frank who looks like he’s about to scream like a schoolgirl when the tall mobster walks toward him, a cigarette between his lips.

“Boss, can we bring the leftovers out and finish them?” Ketch rubs his hands, already imagining where he will plant the bullet ending Michael and Victor’s life. “Fast, or painful?”

“Painful.” Frank flinches at Dean’s words but dares not to look at his partner or boss. He knows, he’ll die tonight. He reached the end of the rope and he can’t escape Dean’s wrath.

“Leave Frank to Dean, I’ll stay here to help him out if he needs me to.” While Benny, Jimmy, and Sam drag the other men out of the room Ruby and Dean stay behind. “Shall I carve her name into his chest too?”

“No, Ruby. This is my job.” Dipping his head Dean blows the smoke of the cigarette into Frank’s face, enjoying the tears run down his face and the fact Frank peed his pants.

“A little and scared man, that’s all I can see. Nothing special. Only someone hurting vulnerable people, women, children…even your granny.”

“Piece of shit.” Ruby spats, sitting onto the table behind Dean’s back. “I’ll be waiting for my turn, Frankie. We will have so much fun.”

“Nah, he’s all mine.” Dean fists Frank’s hair before he removes the gag. Frank pants, sniffles before he chokes the word ‘sorry’ out.

“Oh, poor little Frankie. Sorry is not enough for what you did to my girl. It will never be enough.”

“An eye for an eye, Frank. Or rather your life for the life you almost took. Now, be a man about it and take it…” Ruby laughs when Dean presses the burning cigarette to Frank’s forehead.

Frank screams, even whimpers as all the memories of his father’s abuse flash back up. “You had a chance, Frank. You could’ve treated people better than your piece of shit of a father did. We decide who we become, not our parents.”

“That’s right! My mom was a bookkeeper and look, I am a goddamn sexy killer. She was a nice woman, always treated me right but I became a bitch.” Snickering Ruby watches Dean rip Frank’s shirt open. “Knife, boss?”

“Yeah…I think he deserves Y/N’s name on his chest but first. Maybe we will end you fast, you were smart enough to sign the papers after all.” Dean plays with Frank, always giving him hope just like he did with you. “No, I think…”

Dean’s fists meet Frank’s jaw and his head lulls back at the sheer force. For a heartbeat, Frank believes Dean is done but the fist comes back…again, and again, and again until nothing of Frank’s face is left than a bloody mess.

“Shall I or do you want to do it?” Itching to carve your name into Frank’s chest Ruby stand behind Dean. “Please…”

“Do it. This is my wedding gift for you and Sammy, crazy bitch.” Dean smirks when Ruby starts carving your name into Frank’s flesh. “I’ll get more salt and acid. I want him to scream for me…”

“Dean?” Watching Dean emerge from the showers you grasp for his fist. “Does it hurt?” Smiling Dean kisses your temple, not saying a thing just to savor the moment. “Dean?”

“He’s gone, and I can tell, he paid for what he did. Frank was kind enough to sign divorce papers and to give you the house, car, and everything he owned.” Dean carefully helps you lie onto his bed.

For a few days, you live with him in his room, the one he wants to share with you for the rest of his life . “I…thank you. I hate to admit it, but I am glad he’s dead…”

“Sweetheart, I promised to reserve a special place in hell for him, and I did,” Dean smirks when you curl into his side. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

He’s wrapping his arms around you, not mentioning he sold Frank and his friends to not very friendly people. People who like to torture and hurt people like Frank.

Dean fulfilled his promise. He made the rest of Frank’s life living hell…

More tags in reblog.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@negans-lucille-tblr

@deans-baby-momma

@thefaithfulwriter

@squirrelnotsam

@roonyxx

@neerness

@deansgirl-1968

@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

@butifulsoul125

@lyinginthegingerlocks

@neen-illustrates

@janicho88

@woodworthti666

@thevelvetseries

@dreaminemz

@akshi8278

@midnightsilver16830

@mrspeacem1nusone

@ria132love

@caligraphee

@the-witch-in-silence

@justanotherwinchester

@multisuperfandom

@jason-todd-squad

@jadesupernatural

@psychicforest

@luciathewinchestergirl

@magssteenkamp

@palefiregiver

@tranquility-or-chaos

@jxackles

@michellemxndes

@addictedtofictionalcharacters

@gabifernandessn

@waywardrose13

@team-free-will-you-idjiot

@myopiamystical

@rintheemolion

@isthatabutterfly

@bluecornflowers

@rosalynshields

A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

#sequel to too late to be sorry #sorry is not enough #angst #torture #mentions of domestic violence #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #mobster au #MOBSTER!AU #mobsterdean #mobster!dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester miniseries #mobster!dean x you

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Hijan”

This is all my brain wanted to write today, so you guys are gonna have to take this trip with me lol. Those of you who liked the language will probably like this, and if you don’t, don’t worry. Translation is provided.

The stone underneath my feet is hot and hard, The rays of the sun are blistering, and the metal sticks I keep getting clobbered over the head with hurt…. A lot

Yeah, surprise surprise, I got myself into the Drev clan. Turns out that I don’t exactly speak as well as I thought I did, so it took more than a little convincing to get their clan leader to allow me in. Luckily he knew of me at the very least and decided it would be an interesting experiment to see how tough humans really are.

Honestly, I think it was an excuse to watch the clan children beat the snot out of me.

I mean to be fair to myself, I am pretty sure I could win in a fight if the situation called for it, but come on these are kids, I can’t hit them.

Why am I fighting kids you ask?

Well because I am about as tall as the kids. With Drev growing anywhere from seven to ten feet tall, you can imagine that their kids are rather monstrous. These little beasts are about as tall as I am and way more vicious. And when I say vicious, I mean vicious.

Their clan leader seems amused at my pain.

This guy is called the Lodnajasta which roughly translates to “the one who watches” or something like that. Sunny calls them Sentinels. Drev clans are made up of a couple inner hierarchies . Their religious leader, their military leader, and a council of elder clan members who give their opinions on stuff.

They didn’t seem to pleased on me being here, but the Sentinel seemed to want to settle something once and for all.

It seems as if he was being proven right.

I hit the ground hard shoulder smarting and roll to the side as the little cretin charges after me. This one is bright neon green, and he seems intent on taking my head off. He might succeed too. As he charges me, I see a potential opening to hit him, but at the last moment I pull my punch. I can’t just hit the kid.

He doesn't have the same qualms, and I get plowed into the ground with a shoulder check.

Volcanic rock grates under my arms and knees as I hit the ground.

“Tizhitan, Tanana.” The sentinel says crouching just outside the circle to mock me.

He’s been saying that all day, which means it’s a word I learned pretty fast: shameful.

Tanana is my new nickname apparently, means alien.

Either that or Kazga, which I have determined is actually some kind of curse word along the same lines as moron, but with connotations more along the line of rude words a human may used to describe someone as mentally disabled. It is a pretty serious insult, and he only uses it on me when I have been a real idiot.

“Nizish, Tanana ,ee zheengish.” Stand up and fight

I slowly crawl to my feet hurting, “I can’t fight them, they’re kids.”

“dazhit .”

He’s insulting me again.

Pretty sure that one is like calling me a bitch, though it probably has some other unknown meaning.

“Look. I’m sorry but where I am from we don’t hit kids.”

He looks amused. The kids don’t understand what I am saying, but I can hear them jeering at my back with words like dazhit, tanana and Kazga. I don’t know where their parents are, but I would consider washing their mouths out with soap.

“Juhkee tsa zhe tehish zheengat.”

I pretty sure I heard the words fight me in there.

I would argue with him, but I dug myself into this hole. I should have just shut up and clobbered the kid in the head, but no, instead i opted to get my ass beat.

“Yid.” I respond a bit sullenly, and with chirps of glee, the children gather around the circle as their leader sets down his spear and steps inside.

“Tsa zhalish tahajeea.” I say pointing to his armor. Hardly seems far that I don’t even get a shirt, or shoes for that matter. It was a fight just to keep my pants especially when he pointed out that they don’t wear clothing.

I never considered that until now, and somehow it made things weird.

He was naked except for armor, and I was only wearing pants, and with him towering over me I became suddenly aware of how tall he was, about nine feet tall if anyone is asking, which made him about three feet taller than yours truly.

As much time as I spend with sunny, sometimes I forget how big drev are supposed to be even considering that her brother is absolutely monstrous.

He just grins at me, or at least the Drev version of a grin.

You can see it mostly in their eyes, a sort of grim malevolence that lets you know they have no trouble beating the shit out of you.

excellent .

I have to crane my neck back to look up at him.

“Aleshash!”

It took me a moment to figure out what the word meant, and by the time I had figured it out, the fight was already over.

He hit me so hard I felt a rib crack, and that was before I went sprawling across the dirt and out of the circle coming to rest at the feet of the young Drev face down in the moss gasping for air and unable to breathe through the pain.

The children chirped/ laughed whatever you call it.

I hurt.

I feel the sentinel’s shadow fall over me as he kneels down at my side, “ tsa dzhalal neh dakish zheengat, dit tsa dzhalakak tazheengish.” You are not ready to fight drev, so you will fight children.

I groan ribs burning.

The children continue to laugh and the sentinel walks off.

The kids trail behind him.

I lay on the dirt with my face in the moss and wish that I had just decided to stay home. Things had been rough for me lately, but I am beginning to wonder why I thought it was a good idea to come out here and make my life harder.

Sunny had told me about her past, how she was treated for being small, how she was considered to be a cripple and a liability to her clan.

Now here i was an actual cripple and a real liability.

What did I think I was doing?

“Tsa jirhash?”

I turn my head looking up to find the face of a very, very old drev. I can tell she is old because the color of her carapace. It darkens as the Drev age, and hers was almost brown, leaning towards black/ She is bent over, lost at least two feet of height, but still she stands with some measure of dignity.

I blink at her.

“Ya hurt?” She asks

I am taken aback a bit surprised to hear english coming form the mouth of a drev. I knew it was possible for them to produce some of our sounds, but sunny and I had never tried./

“I uh…. Zha neh rekazi/”

She looks me over with a critical eye, and before I can do much of anything, she reaches out and just, picks me up, like I weigh nothing, like she would hold a child. To be fair, even as stooped as she is, she’s about nine feet tall, which makes me think she would have been much taller in her youth.

I wince against the pain as she carries me away.

The sun is beginning to set and the sky has become a bright shade of pink. The rest of the clan has either gone inside though a few of the adults remain speaking and conversing with each other towards the head of the village.

She carries me in the opposite direction to a small hut on the outskirts of the village. She has to duck through the door, but once inside there is enough room.

She sets me down at the far end where the moss is thick.

The hut has a pleasant smell, though I cannot describe what it is.

I grit my teeth past the pain as I slowly sit up.

“Lod tsa?” I ask. I think I remember seeing her during that first meeting, but I don’t remember who she is.

“Zha Hijan”

I frown in confusion Hijan means beautiful or colorful so…. Oh wait, drev often use adjectives as names. Like sunny or noble.

I forgot.

“Tsaee tsa lanish zha?”

“Tsaee tsa zha lanish/” She corrects. Oh I forget they have a different sentence structure.

“Uh… Yeah, why are you helping me?” i repeat

“Dzhalka lana gingazh.” Something…. Need help

I frown.

Dzhalka, wait, doesn’t that mean baby or small child.

“Hold on, I am not a child.”

She gives me a knowing look, “Tsa jee.” You’re not?

“No. I’m not. On my planet I am a fully grown adult human. Look I honestly do thank you for helping me with the hospitality and all. But I think you might be confused.”

Her eyes scrunch together in the way that Drev have when they smile, “ tsa tsatse jekish.”

“Trying to find myself? Why would you think that?”

“Tsa dadzhatatal najish ee daeen dahajish. Kaan dzhalka lod dazha neh rekazash.”

I shook my head in confusion, “I left home…. Only children don’t know who they are….” I’m confused.

“tsa Tsatse neh rekazish.”

“I know who I am ok, I just…. I needed to get out for a while and figure myself out….” I paused

She smiled

I sighed.

Well I had really put my foot in my mouth on that one. She walked over and handed me a piece of the pink orb fruit, and I took it gratefully and bit into it. It was sweet, so I assumed it was ripe. It made my mouth hurt with how sweet it was.

The old Drev moved about the hut doing various tasks and clicking at me when I tried to get up.

At one point she even pointed a spear in my direction making it pretty clear that I was to stay down.

I did as told resting back against the moss.

So it looks like I had been adopted by an old drev granny named Hijan who was under the impression I was her new child….

That was

unexpected .

But I supposed I could roll with this.

It was nice to have a place to stay.

I fell asleep sometime later woken up during the night only to find her asleep to my right curled up in the way a mother might while letting her child rest. One of her hands rested very close to my back.

Ok weird, but….. Comforting

And I had no trouble falling asleep for the rest of the night.

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yiling · 4 years ago

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pass the time (Xue Yang & A-Qing kink meme fill)

squeaking this one in under the wire for the @mdzsnet Xue Yang birthday event. also kind of double-dipping because this is also a fill for an anon who wanted xy+aq friendship.

read on the ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458970

A-Qing hates when Xiao-daozhang and the stranger go out on night hunts. They always come back covered in blood and slime and who knows what else, the stranger is always smug and annoying, and daozhang is always very tired. Sometimes, like today, he’s so tired that he sleeps all the way through the next morning, and that’s worst of all.

Xiao Xingchen had explained to her once that a cultivator’s golden core is like a muscle, and that if you use it too much it can get overworked. Then the cultivator needs to rest for a long time to build their strength back, so their qi doesn’t get all tangled. A-Qing understands this, she does, and she thinks the daozhang should get as much sleep as she needs, but she can’t help but hate it when he gets like this.

If daozhang is asleep, that means she has to be alone with the stranger.

They’re sitting together in the dusty dimness of the coffin home, waiting on Xiao-daozhang to wake up. The stranger is sitting at the table, cleaning his nails with one of his many knives, and A-Qing is sitting on top of a coffin near the one the daozhang sleeps in. She is mostly occupied with watching the two cultivators, while making sure the awake one doesn’t know she’s watching at all: when he looks at daozhang, she keeps her eyes on him, and when he looks away, she watches Xiao Xingchen’s gently rising and falling chest. While engaged in this, she keeps up a steady commentary with her bamboo stick – tap, tap-tap-tap. She thinks of it as a warning to the stranger, like the scolding of a blackbird – I’m still here! Don’t try anything!

The stranger complains about anything and everything she does, so she’s mildly surprised at how long she’s able to keep this up before he groans. “Fucking cut that out. It’s obnoxious, and you’re going to wake the daozhang up.”

“If I wake him up, it’s your fault for wearing him out fighting fierce corpses and whatever,” A-Qing retorts. “He never sleeps this late except after night hunts, it’s mid-morning already!”

“How do you know what time it is, Little Blind? You can’t see the sun,” the stranger says, laughing.

“Because I wake up the same time every day!” she replies indignantly. (This is a bald-faced lie, she can and will sleep til noon if she’s able, and she relishes it.) “Keep your creepy giggling down, you’re so noisy.”

“Ah, the shoe is on the other foot now,” he cackles. “You can complain about my laughing, but I can’t complain about you bobbing around your stupid little stick like a crazy old granny? That’s not very fair, what would daozhang say?”

“He should tell you to go throw yourself in the river,” A-Qing growls, clutching her staff protectively to her chest, “but he’s too nice, so I have to do it.”

“Pick better threats, if you’re gonna threaten,” the stranger says dismissively, flipping his knife over in his hand. “And keep your damn voice down.”

“Why do you care if he sleeps, anyway?” A-Qing snaps. “You’re a bastard and you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“Because he’s supposed to do the laundry today and if he wakes up now he’ll be too tired later,” the stranger says glibly. “And I’m certainly not gonna do it for him, since I’m a bastard and all.”

“Well, I just think he should get to rest, is all,” A-Qing sniffs.

The stranger rolls his eyes, which is kind of funny since he thinks she can’t even see it. “It’s almost like we want the exact same thing.”

“Maybe,” A-Qing huffs.

There’s a moment of quiet.

“We could just go outside,” she suggests.

“Yeah, whatever.”

The stranger picks himself up, and A-Qing slides down off the coffin. He offers his arm to her with exaggerated graciousness, but she ignores him and picks her way outside on her own. She doesn’t step on his foot, since from the way he’s standing it would be too hard to make it look accidental, but she thinks about it very hard.

There’s a little open place with a fire pit out in front of their coffin home, where they sit in the evening and cook and tell stories. Neither daozhang nor the stranger are any good at stories, which puts a damper on things, but A-Qing considers it an acceptable price for a hot meal and some company. She’s paid worse.

The stranger hops up on one of the coffins they’ve dragged in to protect the fire pit from the wind, stretching out on his back like a sunning cat. She wishes she was strong enough to knock it and him over. Instead, she sits down with her back up against the coffin’s side, kicking her legs out.

The sunlight always seems weak and misty, here in Yi City, but a beam struggles through the fog to warm her face, and A-Qing is content enough with that. She reaches into a pocket she’s made with her sash, where she keeps important things like money and shiny rocks. Right now, there’s a hard candy in there, in its little twist of brown paper. Daozhang likes to give them candy in the morning, but he’d pressed this one into her hand last night, since he knew he’d sleep late. He’d smiled all soft like he was embarrassed, and she’d thrown her arms around his neck like that smile was something she could hold onto forever.

Now, she fishes out the candy and pops it into her mouth to savor. Sweet things taste better in the sunshine. The stranger must hear her sucking on it, because he bangs his foot on the top of the coffin like he’s annoyed; she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of jumping at it.

“Hey, you have candy down there, and you’re not even gonna share? Heartless little bitch.”

A-Qing would bet daozhang’s whole coin purse that he’s got candy too, and sure enough, when she listens she can hear him crunching on it. She raps her cane against the coffin in retaliation.

“I can hear you chewing on yours, asshole! You think I’m stupid or something?”

“I have a name now, you know,” the stranger says, voice all affected hurt. “You don’t have to call me by epithets.”

She knows he wants her to ask what an epithet is, so she doesn’t. Instead she sniffs. “Chengmei, you said. That’s too nice for someone like you, ‘asshole’ makes more sense.”

A couple nights ago, the stranger had apparently gotten tired of the daozhang calling him variants on “our guest”, and A-Qing calling him variants on “hey you”, and volunteered a name for himself.

(“Is it your actual name?” A-Qing had demanded.

The stranger had only smirked. “I dunno, Little Blind, what do you think?”)

A-Qing immediately disliked it. Daozhang didn’t seem to think it suited either, but in a way that made him laugh. Then he hadn’t been able to explain why because he was giggling so much – something about a proverb. Chengmei sounds flowery to A-Qing, two whole characters like the courtesy names rich people have. Xiao-daozhang’s first name is like that, but she likes it for him. Xingchen is pretty and noble-sounding, and while the daozhang is certainly not rich (his pocket was almost empty when she picked it) he’s good and kind like a hero in a story. He deserves a nice name. Chengmei-the-stranger is not good or kind or noble. He’s like A-Qing, and people like them don’t get courtesy names.

She glances cautiously up at him, careful to not meet his eyes. Apparently unimpressed by her insults, he’s loudly ignoring her and rebraiding a section of his hair. A-Qing is pretty sure the stranger is poor, or at least he had been. When they found him in a ditch, he was wearing fine, many-layered cultivator’s robes, and he had a big silver guan he’s since refused to sell. But he doesn’t act like the wealthy, thoughtless people that A-Qing has fleeced on city streets, and he doesn’t act like the daozhang either. He knows how to swear and he knows how to steal.

A-Qing keeps a wary eye on him. “Why Chengmei, anyway?”

He glances at her sidelong; she turns her head a little so it doesn’t look like she was looking at him. “Why Qing?”

“That’s just what I’ve been called, as long as I remember.” She gestures with her staff. “Maybe because of this.” It’s a qing that means bamboo, or so she was told once. A-Qing can’t read.

“An old friend of mine picked Chengmei out for me,” the stranger says. A-Qing’s brain trips a little over the idea of him having friends, but he continues. “So that I could sound respectable, you know.”

“I knew it!” A-Qing yells, jumping to her feet. “I knew it was too fancy to be your real name!”

The stranger actually laughs at that. “Yeah, I don’t really like it either. I don’t like flowery cultivator names much. The big sects get all jumped up on politeness and formality, like they think they’re so much better just cause they happen to have golden cores and money. Don’t even get me started on titles.” He turns his head and spits in the dirt.

A-Qing folds her arms and looks at him, bamboo tucked in the crook of her elbow. The daozhang hasn’t been especially positive about the sects either, when she’s asked him for stories, but the stranger – Chengmei – almost sounds insulted by them. Like it makes him angry that they have so much he doesn’t. A-Qing has felt that. She felt it on the day she met Xiao-daozhang, sneaking around people in fine clothes with fat purses.

She re-crosses her arms, irritated at this similarity. “What’s this about titles?”

Chengmei has folded his hands behind his head and shut his eyes, but he slits one back open to look at her. “Cultivators like to call each other stupid things so they can sound more impressive, like Red Blade Master or what the fuck ever. Didn’t you know? They used to call our daozhang ‘the bright moon and gentle breeze.’” He snorts. “Gentle, sure, like the idiot he is, but anyone who calls him ‘bright’ has never seen him try to haggle.”

A-Qing taps her stick anxiously on the ground. She really wants to disagree with him and defend the daozhang, but the problem is that Chengmei is not…wrong. Xiao-daozhang sometimes doesn’t seem to know how the world works. He gave her his purse when she stole from him, reasoning that she needed it more than he did. He’s unfailingly polite and kind, and when people take advantage of him for it, he doesn’t seem stop doing it. Sometimes he makes no sense to her; sometimes he makes her angry. How is it fair, that he can do these things without being afraid of the consequences? How is it fair, that he can be ignorant enough to be good?

“Well, neither of us call him that, so it doesn’t matter,” she decides, and walks around the other side of the coffin, hitching herself up on it to sit. “How come you don’t have a fancy title, then? You’re a cultivator too.”

“None of them like me,” Chengmei says, and sounds delighted by it. He stretches out his wiry limbs, nudging her with his shin. “They don’t like my attitude, they don’t like that I can outsmart them, and they especially don’t like that I got so far without a clan name or a famous teacher like our daozhang.”

He suddenly sits up to look at her, eyes dark and keen. “People don’t like it when you come up from the bottom, Qingqing. When you’ve had nothing all your life and then get strong enough to take what you want? People hate that.”

The seriousness in his voice makes A-Qing shiver. It’s not a threat, it’s almost earnest. For once he’s not trying to scare her. But she’s scared anyway, because she understands.

She’s known for a long time that she and the stranger are the same kind of person. He never talks about his past with any clarity, aside from the story of the boy who wanted sweets. But since then, he’s spoken offhand about beatings and hunger and cold and wandering, all things A-Qing knows in her bones. Daozhang always seems sad about it, like he would fix it all himself if he could, but A-Qing just feels angry. Sometimes no one is there to help. Sometimes the only way to get what you want is to fight for it.

She ignores the itch under her skin, the part that sees herself in him. Instead, she drums her heels on the coffin and stretches. “To take what you want? What’s that even mean? All you care about is candy.”

Chengmei has gone back to sprawling lazily on the coffin lid. He laughs. “I care about plenty of things, I just care about candy the most. And daozhang brings me sweets whenever I want now, so I don’t worry about taking them.”

“You’re spoiled!” A-Qing says. “You just want to mooch off daozhang and eat candy and be annoying, like a spoiled little sister. We should call you Meimei instead of Chengmei!”

A-Qing regrets it as soon as it leaves her mouth. She immediately starts wondering which knife the stranger is going to kill her with and how long it’ll take daozhang to find the body, so when Chengmei laughs, she startles so badly she almost slides off the coffin.

“Gotta admit, spoiled is a new one. Whatever, you’re even younger and more annoying, so you should be Meimei.”

A-Qing stares at him with open shock, entirely forgetting her rule of not looking at him directly. He blinks back.

“What’s your problem?”

“I thought you’d get mad at me for calling you a girl,” A-Qing mumbles, dropping her eyes.

“Why would I do that?” He seems genuinely confused.

“Men get mad about it sometimes, I don’t know!” She gestures vaguely with her stick, frustrated. “People always act like a girl is a bad thing to be, like you’re stupider or weaker. They treat you worse.”

“Well whenever people say that shit it’s cause they’re morons,” Chengmei says. “Women are just as vicious as men when it comes down to it.”

A-Qing tilts her head at him. This is a novel perspective. “Really?”

“Hell yeah. Listen, if some pig ever treats you bad for being a girl, chop his cock off and stuff it down his throat. Let’s hear him make fun of you then.”

A-Qing would like to believe she’s worldly enough that nothing shocks her, but her reply still comes out in an incredulous squeak. “I can’t do that!”

“Nah, I guess you can’t. You’re too soft, daozhang’s been a bad influence on you” He looks at her thoughtfully. “Tell you what. If you’re good and don’t annoy me too much, I’ll tell you stories about female cultivators I knew. Some of those bitches could fight.”

A-Qing finds herself smiling at him, which is incredibly strange. Fortunately, before things can get any weirder, a warm, familiar voice cuts through the mist.

“A-Qing! Chengmei!”

“DAOZHANG!” A-Qing launches herself off the coffin, whips around, and runs out to launch herself into Xiao Xingchen’s arms. “You slept forever.”

Xiao-daozhang lets out an “oof” like she staggered him, but he’s as steady as ever. “Sorry, A-Qing, I know I left you two alone.” He scruffs a gentle hand over her hair “Were you and Chengmei getting along?”

A-Qing turns around to keep his sleeve from getting in her face and sticks her tongue out in Chengmei’s general direction. He snickers. “Something like that.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the daozhang answers in the sweet, sincere way he has. He reaches out to put a hand on Chengmei’s shoulder, and for once A-Qing tolerates the sight of it. Surely, daozhang has so much kindness he can afford to spend it on them both.

A-Qing grins, hiding it in Xiao Xingchen’s chest. This, the three of them, is what she wants. She’s going to hold onto this forever.

#xue yang #a qing #xiao xingchen #mdzs #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #yi city #yi city gang #fic #mine #it's aq POV and not xy i hope that's okay for the event #it's still About him more or less #she was a lot of fun to write for too #read this fic if you like Obnoxious Bantz

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2seokfan · 4 years ago

Text

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 2

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 4.3k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4

summary:

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year? So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Ch. 2 is here yay!!! Also please note that Scarlet and Hazel are definitely Hoseok and Yoongi, only the reader doesn’t find out their real names in this chapter. And please don’t hesitate to give me feedback or constructive criticism whether through comments or messaging <3

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda @ghostkat23 @ayoo-bangtan

Blonde lady retracts her hand from orange hair’s arm, one eyebrow twitching in irritation.

“And who might you be?”

You’re standing in front of the boys so again, you can’t really see their faces, but you take this opportunity to speak while they’re still frozen in shock.

“I’m their owner! Who are YOU and why are you bothering my boys?” You try to sound tough but internally your mind is going haywire. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. What the FUCK am I doing??!!

“Oh really? Their ‘owner’ huh? How convenient of you to show up right now.” Uh oh. She sounds skeptical.

To your utter surprise, orange hair wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives you a quick back hug. This does nothing to help your nerves because you’re suddenly being bombarded by the delectable scent of honey and cinnamon. Jesus Christ why does he smell so good? Get it together Y/N!

“That’s right! She’s our owner. We’ve been waiting for you!”

You quickly recover from your sensory overload. If the boys are playing along, that must mean they do need your help.

“Are you now?” Blondie’s voice is venom at this point. “What are their names?”

Fuck.

“Uh…” You glance at her red nails. Damn they are even sharper up close. “His name is Scarlet,” you point your thumb backwards at orange hair. “And uh…” you glance at your latte, now cold, “and he’s Hazel!” You gesture somewhere behind you to your left, where you assume white and grey hair is standing.

Blondie’s frown deepens. She crosses her arms, temporarily sheathing her weaponous nails. Still slightly unconvinced but unable to prove otherwise, she retorts back. “Then why are your hybrids collarless? You know I could call Hybrid Services on them right here, right now!”

At this point her arctic fox has now completely given up on calming her down, opting to stand behind her owner with her head bowed down. You feel so sorry for the poor thing, having to deal with such a selfish owner. But unfortunately you have no time to dwell on that. You have to think fast. If blondie calls Hybrid Services it’s over for you and the boys because you have no proof of ownership.

“W-well why do you think we’re out shopping today?” You speak a little too fast so you take a deep breath and slow down, pretending you didn’t just think up this idea right now. “I’m planning on buying them new collars of course. Their old ones wore down so we decided to throw them away. I was with them all day today and nobody complained. The one time I leave them to go buy a cup of coffee and I come back to a lady yelling at them? Do you have nothing else to do with your life than to bother other people? How embarrassing!”

Blondie’s eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear into her untouched roots. Her face is now comical, identical to a pop-eyed goldfish.

“I-I…” Her cheeks are now the same color as her nails. “I was only trying to find a suitable mate for my hybrid. Surely as their owner you understand that…”

“But did they say ‘yes’?!” You interrupt her, not wanting to deal with any of her bullshit. You’ve got the upper hand at this point. You cock your head to the side and put your free hand on your hip.

“No they didn’t but that’s why I was looking for their owner. It doesn’t matter what they think!” Wow what a class A bitch. You can’t believe she still thinks she has a chance.

You hear a low growl coming from white and grey behind you.

“Well I don’t work like that. I’ll never disregard the opinions of my hybrids and put them down like you do!” You’re fuming at this point, nerves completely gone. “I’m really sorry you think that way and I hope one day you see just how narrow-minded you are. But for now kindly fuck right off!” You finish by sending her one of your most vicious glares.

Game, set, and match.

Blondie blinks twice, frozen on the spot, and completely lost for words.

“Miss… let’s go.” Sylvia’s timid voice breaches the silence as she tugs on her owner’s sleeve.

Blondie quickly comes back to her senses. “Hmph!” She turns on her heel, nose in the air, and grabs her poor fox by the arm, yanking her along.

Sylvia turns her head back and manages a quick “I’m sorry” before she is marched off. You give her a reassuring smile, letting her know that she has nothing to do with this entire situation.

As soon as they are out of sight, you let out a huge breath, unaware that you were holding it for so long.

“Well that was…” You spin around, facing the hybrid boys for the first time, “Oh wow...”

Because in front of you stand two of the most gorgeous men to have ever blessed your eyes with their presence.

Now you’re speechless.

‘Scarlet’, the orange haired hybrid, is standing right in front of you with both hands on his hips and a blinding wide smile on his face. His tousled orange locks are parted, showing the full length of his chiseled face. With a sharp, upturned nose and a jawline that could cut, he looks effortlessly handsome. Now that you have time to observe him up close, you notice that he’s a red fox hybrid, which explains why blondie wanted him for poor Sylvia.

‘Hazel’, the white and grey haired hybrid, is standing slightly behind ‘Scarlet’ with his arms crossed and a sleepy look on his face. If you could describe him in one sentence, it would be ‘I know I’m fluffy but don’t fuck with me’. You have this primal urge deep down to touch his hair and squish his cheeks but somehow your instincts are telling you that if you attempted to do this he would scratch both your eyes out. He looks to be some sort of extremely long-haired cat, you’re guessing a Maine Coon, but you’re not too sure.

Faced with such beauty, you suddenly become hyper conscious of yourself. Oh shit. You’re basically barefaced, with unfilled eyebrows and chapped, coffee-stained lips. You look down and take in the bleach stain on the left knee of your sweatpants, then you notice the cocoa powder from this morning’s tiramisu on your tank top. Wow the one day I run into hot guys and I had to look like a mess express.

Your eyes travel back to the boys. ‘Scarlet’ now looks slightly concerned, his wide smile slowly disappearing.

“Are you ok? You’ve been silent for awhile now…”

You’re brought back to earth, away from your mental pity party. There’s nothing you can do about your current state of being, so why wallow?

You quickly shake the thoughts out of your head. “Sorry I zone out a lot.”

You then remember why you’re talking to the boys in the first place. “But anyways, are you guys ok?? I’m sorry to surprise you like that but I just couldn’t stand by and watch her harass you.”

‘Hazel’ speaks to you for the first time, his voice low and slightly scratchy in timbre. “We’re fine now,” then in a quieter tone, “thank you.”

“I’m glad I could help!” You offer him a small smile.

Your mind drifts to blondie again and instantly your smile turns into a frown. “I just don’t understand what her problem is! Sure there’s a collar law but it’s barely enforced this day and age!”

Hybrid laws have drastically changed in the last ten years. Although there are tons of improvements needed, since hybrids are still under the jurisdiction of their owners, small laws like the collar law are extremely lax nowadays. Think about it like jaywalking in the city. Sure it’s technically illegal but if no one gets hurt then nobody cares if you do it, unless an officer is bored and has nothing else to do.

“Well we appreciate you stepping in before she could call Hybrid Services anyway. That really saved our tails! Thank you!” You can see ‘Scarlet’ is visibly relieved to be out of that sticky situation, a smile back on his handsome face.

“Yeah no problem!” You take a sip from your cold hazelnut latte, trying to distract yourself from staring at him. He’s radiant, and if you look any longer you swear you’ll combust.

“By the way,” ‘Scarlet’ is now looking at your coffee cup, “where’d you get your coffee? We’ve been meaning to grab a drink but we’re new in town so we don’t know where to look.”

“Oh this? It’s from my favorite coffee shop! You guys should really check it out.” Your eyes light up and an idea pops into your head. “Wait, are you guys free right now?”

“Well we were just walking around the city before granny interrupted us so yeah, we’re free.” ‘Hazel’ answers nonchalantly, then shrugs. “Whats up?”

“So…” You shift your weight from one foot to another, here goes nothing. “I was thinking I could treat you guys to coffee!” You’re surprised by your sudden courage. You’ve only just met them yet these boys are affecting you so much. If Karli were here she’d say you’re whipped.

“Hmm?”

“Say what?”

Both boys respond at the same time, blinking at you, surprise evident in their tone.

“What I mean is, I’d like to officially welcome you to town!” You’re hoping you don’t sound too creepy. Now that you think about it, a complete stranger treating two hybrids they just met to coffee can seem a little off-putting. “You guys don’t have to say yes though! I just… I didn’t like how blondie treated you and I wanted to make it up to you…” You’re trailing off now. Just shut up Y/N you’re talking too much again.

“I mean it’s not your fault though…” ‘Scarlet’ scratches the back of his head.

“Ok.”

You whip your head in ‘Hazel’’s direction, his answer surprising you. Maybe it’s his body language, or just his overall demeanor, but you didn’t expect him to accept your offer.

He looks ‘Scarlet’ in the eyes. “She did save our asses, and I’ve been craving an Americano.”

‘Scarlet’ nods once. “Ok! Lead the way, miss, um…”

“Y/N. You can just call me Y/N,” you blurt out, trying to ease the awkwardness, “Uh, cool! This way.”

The boys trail behind you as you lead them past the various designer stores, heading once again back to Cozy Coffeehouse. Being the self-conscious hoe that you are, you hope the barista doesn’t recognize you returning while still holding one of their drinks. You shield your face with your free hand, drawing a snort from ‘Scarlet’ as he finds the whole ordeal hilarious.

“Back again so soon?” The barista recognizes you instantly.

Ah fuck.

“Yep.” You smile sheepishly at him. “But this time it’s not for me.” You turn to the boys behind you. “What do you guys want?”

‘Hazel’ shuffles in front of you. “An iced Americano please. No cream, no sugar.” Wow, someone likes to have fun.

‘Scarlet’ is still staring at the drinks menu, tilting his head to the side and tapping his cheek with his index finger.

You point him in the direction of their small specials menu sitting near the register.

“Have you checked out their specials yet? They change it up every season!”

“Ooooh cherry blossom latte. I’ll take one of those!” He attempts to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Oh no no no!” You tut, “It’s on me remember? I’m a working woman and I can afford two coffees. Now put that wallet away!”

After you’ve paid for the boys’ drinks you head to the corner where ‘Hazel’ has already plopped himself down onto one of the couches.

“Nice place.” He takes a sip of his Americano. “Nice coffee too.”

“Right?” You sit across from him.

‘Scarlet’ is still at the counter waiting for his drink, since the cherry blossom latte takes a notoriously long time to make.

“So what are you guys in town for?” You try to start conversation.

“Business.” He takes another sip. “But today we’re just shopping.”

“Oh ok.” He doesn’t leave you with much to respond to but you don’t blame him for being so guarded. There’s got to be a reason why they were wandering around town without a collar, much less an owner in sight, but it’s not your place to pry. You sit there in silence for a while.

“That took a long ass time but it’s so worth the wait!” ‘Scarlet’ skips back, happily slurping on his latte. “It’s so good! Try it hyung!” He shoves the drink in his buddy’s face.

‘Hazel’ leans over, taking a small sip of the latte, then proceeds to cough and sputter as ‘Scarlet’ hands him a napkin.

“Eugh what is that? It tastes like pure liquid sugar!” He coughs again into the napkin.

“Isn’t it good?” ‘Scarlet’’s tail wags happily before he sits down next to ‘Hazel’, who is now gulping his Americano, hoping to wash away the sickly sweet taste of that abomination of a latte.

You observe them quietly, their interactions making you giggle. They seem like polar opposites but somehow their personalities fit together like a puzzle.

As they settle down, ‘Scarlet’ sets his drink on the table and faces you.

“Thanks for the treat Y/N, we really appreciate it!” He always seems to have a small smile permanently etched onto his face. You realize that unlike some people who walk around with an RBF (resting bitch face), he seems to have a resting happy face. You never knew foxes to be so happy. The ones you’ve encountered at the clinic either seem to be extremely timid and introverted, or slightly arrogant and haughty. He was neither, an embodiment of pure sunshine.

“No problem!” You respond. “By the way, is ‘hyung’ your name?” you ask ‘Hazel’.

“Oh, no.” ‘Scarlet’ laughs at that. “We’re Korean, so in our language, ‘hyung’ is what we say to older males. It’s a form of respect to call them ‘brother’.”

“Oh!” You internally cringe at your ignorance. Oops. “Then what are your names, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I kinda like the names you gave us actually. You can keep calling us that.” Hazel answers, finally having gotten rid of the sugary aftertaste in his mouth. His expression is back to being unreadable.

“Mk.” Strange. They seem very open to you inviting them for coffee but they’re not keen on revealing much about themselves. You don’t push them for answers though, having no reason to garner any information out of them.

“So you said you’re a working woman. What do you do?” Like Hazel, Scarlet also seems eager to switch the topic of conversation away from them.

“Me? I work at a private hybrid clinic.” Unlike the boys, you have no secrets to keep, and you hope to build trust by being honest and open about yourself.

“That’s really cool! Are you a hybrid doctor?” He leans in slightly, giving you his full attention.

“Oh no.” you laugh, a little embarrassed about your shitty job. “I’m just the receptionist, so I get the wonderful pleasure of dealing with people like blondie every day. “ You roll your eyes, emphasizing just how much you can’t stand some of those self-entitled owners.

The boys seem genuinely interested about you and your career, with Scarlet finding ways to prompt you into speaking more about yourself. Hazel mostly sits back and listens, occasionally jutting in with one-liners. Before you know it, you’ve basically told them your whole life story.

You don’t consider yourself a private person, but you’ve never been so vulnerable to strangers before. You find it odd how comfortable you are around them, the only challenge being how hard it is to maintain eye contact, still finding them both ridiculously attractive.

They continue to sit with you, listening to you prattle on and on. Your conversation shifts to the topic of hybrid rights, which to no surprise, you find them equally as passionate about as you do. Scarlet is a very animated speaker, using tons of hand gestures and bouncing up and down on the couch, rattling poor Hazel, who’s just trying to finish the last of his Americano in peace. You discuss how the last decade has seen a drastic improvement in hybrid laws but you both agree that more has to be done. At one point Scarlet gets so excited he stands up, proceeding to then sit back down straight onto Hazel’s unsuspecting tail. A sharp MREOOW is heard, with the cat snatching his crooked tail away from the excited fox and placing it onto his own lap, where he can smooth the ruffled fur.

“Oops, sorry hyung.”

You’re laughing so hard there’s tears in your eyes. How can they be so hot but so goofy at the same time? The duality really popped out.

It’s only until you notice the sun setting through the window in the corner of your eyes do you finally realize just how long you’ve been sitting here, chatting with the boys. You could’ve sworn you’ve only been here for 20 minutes or so, but it’s actually been a couple hours??

The boys seem to notice the time just as you do.

“Wow I was having so much fun I lost track of time!” Scarlet exclaims as he checks the clock on his phone. “We really have to get back and pack.” He looks at you and sighs. “This is our last day here and we’ve got an early flight to catch tomorrow.”

Your heart sinks just a little, having gotten so attached to them in just a short amount of time, but you make sure to plaster on a smile.

“That’s ok. Thank you for spending the day with me! I’ve had a blast!” You’re especially sincere, glad you got to spend the day with some company instead of wandering around on your own.

As they are both standing up to leave, Hazel stares at you for a moment, face devoid of expression, drawing a small blush from your cheeks with how intense his gaze is. He seems to come to a decision because he leans into Scarlet’s ear and whispers something that you can’t make out. The fox’s eyes shoot up for a second, then he quickly nods.

“Um, Y/N?” Scarlet gives you the biggest puppy dog eyes, soft orange ears tilting down anxiously. “I know we’re leaving tomorrow but can we have your number? We’d love to have a friend in this city!”

How can you say no to that face??

“Of course!” Your heart is beating a mile a minute, excited at having an opportunity to keep in touch with your new friends. You whip out your phone and give them your digits.

“Thank you again Y/N! We’ll be back. Promise!” Scarlet gives you one last blinding smile, waving his hand before turning to head out the door.

“Bye Y/N.” A small, sleepy smile also forms on Hazel’s face before he too, turns around and shuffles behind his companion.

You wave as you watch them exit the cafe, deciding that it’s also time for you to head home.

You barely remember the drive back, with the two hybrids occupying 99% of your thoughts. You park your car in your designated parking spot (the extra $50 per month well worth not having to find street parking every night in your shady neighborhood) and make your way up the stairs of your small complex. When you stand in front of the door to your apartment, you notice some light shining from the crack underneath, signifying that your roommate is back.

“Ayah! You’re home!” You call out to her the moment you shut the door behind you.

Your roommate Ayah is in the kitchen, music playing on her small portable speaker as she stirs some sort of sauce in a pot.

“Y/N hi! I made spaghetti so I hope you’re hungry!” She turns and faces you with a big grin, ladle in hand and an apron that says “Kiss the Cook” tied around her waist.

“Yum! You know I can’t turn down anything you make.” You’re glad she’s back, having been gone this time for over a week. You were getting awfully lonely at home.

As soon as she’s done cooking, you both settle down on the small dining table and dig into the pasta, catching up on what you’ve both been up to. You know Ayah works for the medical industry and has to travel a lot for her job but that’s about it. Her career is a little too complicated for a simpleton like you to understand. She’s aware of this so instead she just fills you in on where she’s been the past week.

“They sent me to the middle of nowhere this week I swear Y/N! It was miserable.” She lets out a long sigh. “But at least that’s over for now. Too bad I have to leave again on Monday.”

“Aww, so soon?” You pout. See? This is why you two never have a chance to get closer. Oh well, at least you’ll make the most out of your time together now.

“But, there’s a huge convention coming up so you know what that means?”

“What?”

“Vegas baby!!”

“Nice!” You almost spew out sauce trying to reply to her, which is kinda gross you admit. But you can’t help wolfing down your food since all you’ve had today was coffee and tiramisu. She hands you a paper towel and you gladly accept, wiping the marinara off your cheek.

As you’re finishing your pasta, Ayah’s tone becomes a little more serious.

“Hey Y/N. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the lease.” She starts to gather the empty plates, rinsing them then putting them in the dishwasher. Before you get the chance to voice your confusion at where this conversation is going, she continues.

“So you know how this year’s lease is ending in like four months right?”

“Mhm” you hum, now guzzling a glass of water to wash down the food.

“And I love having you as a roommate and stuff so it’s got nothing to do with you but…” She pauses for a moment, contemplating how to form the correct words. “Recently I’ve just been promoted.”

“That’s awesome I’m so happy for you!” And you genuinely are. But it does sting a little, knowing the people around you are doing so well in life and you’re still stuck in a job you don’t really enjoy.

She sits back down at the table. “Well, I’ve been thinking and, now that I’m going to get paid more, I kinda want to have a place of my own.” She looks a little nervous breaking the news to you. “And please know that this has nothing to do with you as a roommate, it’s just that I’m getting older now and I want to start living independently.”

Honestly? You sort of had a feeling this was coming. Ayah is pretty successful and it’s a miracle she’s decided to live with a roommate till now. She’s being perfectly reasonable, giving you a sufficient amount of time to decide on your future living conditions. It still hurts though, not gonna lie.

“It’s ok. I understand, I really do.” You reassure her. “Thanks for telling me this now so I have time to work out what to do.” Your voice is a lot quieter now that reality has kicked in.

“And I promise to either help you find a new roommate or a new place to live. I’m not gonna leave you hanging.” She determines.

“Thanks girl, I appreciate it.” You try to smile at her but it comes off a little weak.

Later on in the evening, after you’ve cleaned up and lied down on your bed, you let your thoughts roam free.

What a day, Y/N.

You can’t believe so much has happened in the span of around 12 hours. Although Ayah’s news about moving out when the lease ends did hurt a little, it was not surprising, and you find yourself thinking again about the two very beautiful hybrid men you ran into today. You come to a conclusion. Even though today didn’t end on a very happy note, you still believe that it was an overall very good day. And you even made two new friends!

Right on cue, your phone vibrates near your pillow. You grab it and check that an unknown number has texted you in a group chat.

You swipe to open the message.

Unknown: Hey Y/N it’s your favorite fox Scarlet!!! (this is followed by a string of emojis) Anyways we want to thank you again for today, we had so much fun!! (more emojis)

You: Hi Scarlet! :) I had fun too!

Scarlet: Also doesn’t this remind you of Hazel??

He sends a picture of a very fluffy but grumpy looking cat with the caption “Why am I here when I can be sleeping??”

You laugh out loud, trying to muffle the sound with your pillow.

You: LMAO im dEAD

Unknown: Hey shut up fox that does NOT look like me. Now let me sleep

Ah so that must be Hazel, ever the happy kitty.

Scarlet: It’s not even that late tho?! You sleep too much cat

Hazel: And what about it? Also hi Y/N please tell the fox to let us sleep, we have a flight to catch tmrw

You: Hi Hazel! And sorry for blowing up your phone sleepyhead

Scarlet: Ok ok fine! Night Y/N we’ll talk to you soon!!! (another shit ton of emojis)

You: Night boys have a safe flight tmrw!

You lie back down with a big smile on your face. That definitely improved your mood. You snuggle up under your blanket.

Right before you drift off to sleep, you remember that you forgot the one chore you promised to do today, which was to go grocery shopping.

FUck.

Oh well, you’ll do that tomorrow.

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#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

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killiansprincss · 4 years ago

Text

Never Forget You Ch.10

Summary: Season 6A Canon Divergence.

Emma is happy. Finally happy with her parents, son and boyfriend. But this happiness is taken away from her when the Evil Queen curses her and turns her into a toddler.

Heartbroken and angry, Killian and Henry run away to Neverland to wait for Emma to break her curse. But when she does break it and comes looking for them 25 years later, she soon realises this Neverland is very different now it is no longer under Pans rule.

Will she be able to save Henry and Killian in time, or will this new ruler of Neverland keep them hostage forever?

Also on A03

CHAPTER TEN

Henry Mills was sick of Neverland. He wants to go home more than anything. So when Killian said he wanted to meet him, and then Emma somehow magically contacted him, all the pieces just fell into place.

And now Killian Jones was standing just a few feet away from Emma Swan and the entire Charming family for the first time in 25 years.

“Swan”

“Killian!”

Killian takes a look at Emma and the little brother he had met a few hours ago.

Emma looks the same as she did before she was cursed. A little more polished and not a strong lost girl in her eyes anymore. But it was still his Emma. Then he looks to David and Snow, who look a lot more mature than he remembered them.

“David. Lady Snow. Dave, you look..” Killian begins.

“If you say old, I will cut off your other hand.” David cuts him off leaving a smile on Killians face.

“It’s good to see you.” He settles on saying, still in awe that they were all here.

“Uncle Neal, come upstairs with me, I wanna hear about the uncle I never got to know” Henry says sensing the tension between his mother and Killian, gesturing for his grandparents to follow to leave the two alone.

“Swan. It's really you?” Kilian asks, still scared it’s some cruel trick.

Emma nods, trying to stop herself from tearing up. “It’s me. I’m really here.”

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting for this day.” Emma thinks he’s going to come over and kiss her, or wrap his arms around her. But he doesn't.

“Killian. I missed you so much.” Emma tells him, taking a few steps closer.

Killian takes a step back. “I can’t. This. I thought it would just be Henry. I didn't expect to see you here.”

Emma understands he’s hurt and confused, but that doesn’t mean seeing him back away from her hurts her any less.

“Henry told me everything. I know about the fairies and why it’s hard to leave the island. But we can figure it out together. Like we always do.” She tells him, slowly taking a step towards him. “We took down the Snow Queen together, we defeated Pan together, and we defeated our darkness together. Hell we even went back in time and made sure my parents met each other, we did all that together! And now, I’m here and we will do whatever it takes to take down that fairy bitch and go home. Have the future we always planned.”

She takes another step towards him and takes his handed hook in hers. They were so close they could hear each other's heartbeats.

“Killian I missed you so much.” Emma tells him, wanting nothing more than to feel the taste of his lips on hers.

“Swan. My years on this blasted Island have been the worst years of my life. But I can’t go back with you. If you take the boy, you’ll stand a chance of escaping. It’s not in my fate that I return.” Killian says despite how much it hurts.

Emma just shakes her head. “No. I can’t accept that. There is no way I am leaving this Island without you. To hell with what you think about fate, I know that is not what fate has in store for us. Zeus brought you back for a reason, okay. He would not have brought you back just so you can be in the place that makes you feel like you’re the worst person in the world.”

Killian can barely look at Emma. “You wouldn’t want me anyways. After all I’ve done. I’m not the man you deserve.”

Emma wants to laugh, “Are you being serious right now? After all we’ve been through? I made you a Dark One because I didn’t want to risk the possibility of losing you. I did lose you, twice! I came down to the Underworld to save you! And then I lost you, and that broke me. I didn’t know how I was going to survive without you, but then by a literal miracle, you came back to me! And then we were slowly planning our future together. And then I was cursed. I understand how you feel, but think about how I feel. I woke up one day with two lives in my head, not like my parents; their lives were mostly based on false memories.”

Emma takes another step towards Killian who tried to walk away. “I was having visions for years. I kept seeing this tall dark haired stranger with blue eyes. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was seeing you. I saw our moments together. I saw you because you’re my soulmate Killian my true love. If you don’t want to come back to Storybrooke with me, then that’s on you. Not me.”

“I need some air.” She says as Killian doesn't respond and goes outside.

_______________

“You doing okay kiddo?”

Emma looks up to see her father coming down the ladder, plopping himself onto the ground beside her.

“Let me guess, you heard our argument?” She asks, slightly embarrassed.

David chuckles, “walls in Neverland aren’t exactly thick like in Storybrooke. You want to talk about it?”

“What was it like?” She asks, “when you woke up from your curse? When you realised you had 2 lives in your head.”

“Well I can’t say I know what you’re going through seeing as I was in a coma for 28 years til you finally showed up.” He says causing them both to chuckle. “But I think I know where you’re coming from, I remember you telling Alex a few times that you were seeing your soulmate in your dreams, I assumed it was Hook you were seeing. It’s like when I was cursed, I knew I was married to Kathryn and we had a life together, but anytime I saw your mother I saw visions of her, of us, in the Enchanted Forest, and I didn’t know what I was seeing, but I knew it meant something, which is why I kept going after her. Though I remember you trying to stop me!”

“Hey don’t blame me! You sent me through the wardrobe, how was I supposed to know my 10 year old sons fantasies about you two being my parents was real!” Emma says laughing. This was exactly what her father did, he would make her laugh to forget about her problems. “But did you feel bad, at all? About the things you said and did when you were cursed, how did you manage it?”

“Ah so this is what it’s about. You feel guilty that you grew up loved with your brother, whilst Killian and Henry suffered.” David says stroking his daughters hair, the way he always did to calm her down in the past.

“Yeah that and also I don’t know how to deal with these two lives. It’s not like when me and Henry were in New York, those were all false memories. I was an orphan, I know I remember that, but then I also remember my life where you raised me and I was surrounded by love.” Emma was feeling so lost since waking up, and she didn’t exactly know what the plan now was.

“Well, I know that after we broke the curse, I went to Kathryn and she felt the same, guilt over something we couldn’t control. But with you, you were in control of your life with us, you made friends and bonds on your own, you need to realise that your friendship with Alex and Phillip, that is still real. But Henry and Killian are also real, they didn’t forget you. It’s been a traumatic 25 years for them, give it time and we can figure out a plan on how to defeat the fairies of this realm.”

“And what do I do about Killian?” She finally asks.

“Give him space. He knows how much he loves you, it’s clearly been hard on him. True Love never fails, always remember that.” He whispers, and Emma knows he’s right. Love always wins.

_____________

Henry was eager to get home to Storybrooke, but he was aware 25 years had passed since he was last there and wanted to know how it had changed, and if it was finally safe.

“Wait so you and my mom have matching scars because of a sword fight?” Henry asks his uncle, fascinated to know all about him.

Neal nods, “oh yeah, mom and dad were not happy. I accidentally cut her first and she started bleeding, so she begged me to let her cut me so we’d be matching and they’d be less likely to be angry.”

Henry’s smile is animated, he loved hearing stories like this. “We’re they less angry?”

Neal looks to his mother. “No. I believe you were both grounded for 2 weeks, and swords were locked up. Though I believe your grandpa, Henry gave in and gave them sword fighting lessons whilst I was at work.”

Henry smiles, he remembers when his grandpa gave him lessons, and Killian too. “Awesome! Now I’ve got a cool uncle to teach me how to sword fight too!”

“What else do you want to know? I’m enjoying getting to know the nephew I had no idea I had!” Neal asks. He was similar to Henry in the way he just accepted the fact he had a nephew and was eager to learn all there was about him.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Henry asks.

Neal does a silent chuckle, of course this is what he wanted to know. “I do. Her name is Thalia, I’ve known her since I was younger and we were rivals during High School, we hated each other, but it was after we’d graduated we realised maybe we don’t hate one another.”

“Sounds like my Mom and Killian.” Henry says looking down at them arguing. They’ll resolve whatever issue they have going on soon enough, they would never stay mad long.

“I’ll tell you about Thalia, if you tell me about Killian-he’s so cool!” Neal whispers to his nephew.

Henry grins. “Deal.

*****

“Thalia Cameron , you’re late .” Mrs. Groves, their History of the Enchanted Forest teacher, said as she saw Thalia tried to sneak in at the back of the class.

Thalia sighs. “I’m so sorry Mrs.Groves, I was working the breakfast shift at Granny’s and I lost track of time. It won’t happen again.”

Mrs. Groves walks over to her desk and hands her back her paper. “Maybe you should be focusing on your studies instead of your work. I expected better of you.”

Thalia rolls her eyes and turns her paper over. 67 out of 100. That was her worst score in a while. She wanted to do well in this class, she loved learning about where she came from and how Storybrooke was never meant to exist-but unlike most of the other kids in this class, her father didn’t have the greatest respect for Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest.

“Hey don’t worry about it, she’s in a bad mood today. And that quiz was so hard, I only got a 73.” Neal Nolan whispers to her.

“Thanks Charming.” She smiles back.

God dammit Neal Nolan. Son of the Charmings, son of the family her father hates most.

Thalia’s father was a knight of King George, who was in charge of finding Prince James’, David, or Prince Charming as his kingdom came to call him. Thalia's father swore his allegiance to King George, and therefore hated the shepherd in disguise. Growing up she was taught to hate his family.

She was raised by her father and never knew her mother. All she knew was that her father was married to a woman in his cursed life, and when time started to move again but their memories had not returned, her mother fell pregnant. But then the curse broke and her mother abandoned her father and went back to her real husband. Thalia was born in the Enchanted Forest and when everyone was cursed again, baby Thalia turned up on her father's doorstep and was told it was his problem.

Thalia's father hated what this curse had given him, and so he raised Thalia but he didn’t love her. Thalia was a reminder that he was much happier cursed, at least he had someone who loved him.

That evening Thalia was working at Granny’s again, a double shift. She wanted to work so she could save enough money and move out when she graduated High School. She loved this town, despite her father, and loved its quirks and magical mishaps.

Although she groans when she sees the Charming Family on table 7, her section. She better get good tips.

“Hi guys, what can I get for you?” She asks as she approaches their booth.

She can see Neal grinning as she takes out her notepad.

“What specials do you have?” He asks with a cocky smile.

Thalia rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be a dick Neal, she’s just trying to work.” Emma, his sister tells him, causing him to roll his eyes.

She liked Emma, she was always really nice when she served her, she was so different from her brother.

“2 cheeseburgers, 2 grilled cheese with 2 potions of onion rings and 2 portions of fries please Thalia.” David, the prince tells her. Despite what her father told her growing up, he didn’t seem all that bad.

As she’s clearing up their table, Neal lingers. “You know I can lend you my Enchanted Forest History notes if you like.”

She looks perplexed. “What’s the catch Charming?”

Neal shrugs, “no catch. Just thought you’d need them, if you’re working here a lot and you’re getting good grades again it’ll get Mrs. Groves off your back. And then we can go back to competing on who can get the highest mark.”

Thalia smiles, “thanks, that would be great. And don’t worry I’ll be sure to whoop your ass on the next quiz.”

——

Neal's biggest regret was not having the courage to ask Thalia to Prom. They had always been rivals, but their senior year was different, they were being nice to each other and Neal hated to admit but he thinks he has feelings for her.

He ended up going alone, Robin took Alex of course and he decided he didn’t really want to go with some random girl he didn’t know that well.

“Hey Charming, couldn’t get a date?” It was Thalia. She looked beautiful in a crimson red dress and her brown hair tied up.

“No, I had a line of girls ask me and I had to turn them down.” He replies causing Thalia to roll her eyes.

“I’m gonna regret this, but do you want to dance?” She asks, Neal is as shocked as anything. “I shouldn’t mock you, I don’t have a date either. I was holding out for this one guy but he never asked.”

Neal kicked himself for not realising until years later she meant him. “I’d love to. Just don’t step on my toes” he teased

So Thalia took her hand and laced it with Neal's as they stepped onto the dance floor. The song was slow, so she wrapped her arms around Neal’s neck as they slowly moved to the rhythm.

“Wow you’re actually pretty good at this.” Thalia comments as their bodies are pressed close together as they dance.

“Well I am a prince, it’s expected of me.” Neal teases.

“God you never let that go, do you Charming?” Thalia teases back.

Neither know what happened next, except all of a sudden their lips were on each other. It’s like they’ve been waiting for this moment all their life, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe they’ve been avoiding their feelings for a while. But it feels right.

Thalia breaks the kiss. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Neal, still flustered, just says, “it’s fine. I-I liked it.”

Whatever he said or did, it wasn’t right, and Thalia ran off and he didn’t see her for the rest of the night .

___

“Wait you’re telling me you kissed her at Prom and then you didn’t go after her? And yet you’re still together?” Henry asks after Neal had finished telling his story.

Neal laughs, “it was pretty complicated. We were kinda stubborn and wouldn’t admit that we actually liked each other. It was only when she was moving out of her father's home that I had the guts to talk to her about that night and asked her out for real.”

It was actually Neal that managed to get her out of her house. When he saw her in Granny’s and her makeup didn’t quite cover the shiner and bruised lip her father so clearly had given to her, he made her come to Emma’s house for a couple nights until they managed to find her an apartment. But Thalia’s abusive shitbag of a father was her story to tell.

“Stubbornness is a Charming family trait, you and your sister get it from your father.” Snow comments. “Let’s hope you haven’t inherited it Henry.”

“I can’t wait to hear more!” Henry smiles.

“There’s plenty where that came from, now I want to hear about my pirate brother in law!” Neal says

And so Henry launches into one of he and Hook's adventures, when they save Emma from the alternate reality.

#never forget you #cs ff #Cs fanfic #Captain swan #my writing #cs fic rec

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