#like you really expect support from me while telling me to kill myself ????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ysmtttty · 5 months ago

Text

Red Ferrari

Chapter 8

Summary: Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car

AO3 link Chapter 7 Chapter 9

a/n: this chapter has dual POV, both Eris's and Azriel's perspectives start at +- same time, so I hope I won't confuse you with the chronology of this chapter

“You fucked up,” Lucien told him bluntly when Eris recounted what had happened the morning after the incident. “You really fucked up.”

Eris rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “As if I didn’t realize it myself,” while continuing to listen to his younger brother criticize his decisions. Perhaps hiding his marriage from Azriel wasn’t the best decision. He acknowledged that. But looking back, Eris couldn’t imagine a context where he suddenly announced that he was still married and asked Azriel to believe that it wasn’t such a big problem. Because he was forced into marriage. Because he was already getting a divorce. If it weren’t for Morrigan being such a bitch about the division of property, they would have divorced long ago, and he wouldn’t be here. But the fact that he didn’t tell Azriel about the marriage, much to his regret, was his fault. Not Mor’s.

“I don’t think he would’ve been that upset if you had told him right away,” Lucien continued, pacing around his living room. Eris’s head was starting to ache from his circling. “It would have saved you a lot of problems, you know.”

“I get it,” Eris repeated once again.

“You’re an idiot,” his younger brother told him once again.

“I got that too. I asked for advice on how to fix it.”

“Well, I think you were born that way…” Lucien started before a cushion hit him in the head. “Alright! I don’t know how to help you.”

“Then what’s the point of you?”

“Moral support? But seriously, I have no idea what to do in these situations. The only time Elain was seriously mad at me was when I came to take care of her flowers while she was out of town, mixed up the pots, and for a week watered her plants incorrectly, killing one of them.”

“How did you apologize?” Eris asked, not believing that he was getting involved in a conflict about a dead plant. For a moment, he thought that no flower would have survived with him.

“With all due respect but killing an unfortunate orchid and hiding the existence of a wife are slightly different levels, Eris,” Lucien told him, but continued when his older brother glared at him. “I bought a new orchid, learned how to take care of every plant in her room, and recited it to her from memory. And a date at a pottery workshop where we made and painted new pots for her flowers together.”

“I doubt clay pots will help me,” Eris sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Maybe he's a fan of such things,” Lucien shrugged.

“He's more likely to want to throw it at me.”

“That’s useful too.”

Eris rolled his eyes, understanding that he wouldn’t get more out of this conversation. And it’s not like he expected to get any real advice from his younger brother, who had a perfect personal life. But Lucien was the only option he had to talk to about this.

“Apologize,” was all Lucien said.

“I’d love to if he picked up the phone and agreed to talk,” Eris replied bitterly.

“When has it ever stopped you that someone didn’t pick up the phone?” his younger brother snorted.

Eris went to the workshop right after that conversation, hoping to see Azriel there and talk. He didn’t know yet what exactly he should say because, in his experience, there was never a moment when he needed to apologize in a relationship. He generally wasn’t in relationships, at least not serious ones. The marriage didn’t count since more than half the time he and Mor were at each other’s throats and wanted to kill each other after conflicts, not apologize.

So, Eris was hoping for his speech skills, honed over years in court sessions. And he hoped that his mistake wasn’t fatal in his relationship with Azriel because… well, he didn’t want to lose Azriel.

Parking and getting out of the car, Eris frowned immediately upon seeing his Porsche in an open garage, being worked on by some mechanic. A mechanic who wasn’t Azriel. He made a mental note to kill Lucien and never lend him a car again.

Approaching the Porsche, Eris politely cleared his throat, causing the mechanic to notice him. The mechanic turned around and looked him over, obviously recognizing him, as Eris had seen him a couple of times before when he had visited this place.

“Is Azriel here?” Eris asked directly. The mechanic frowned.

“No,” he shook his head. “Do you need something?”

“Not from you. When is his shift?”

“Today,” he answered simply. “Don’t you guys talk? Why don’t you ask him directly?”

Eris frowned, not wanting to explain the details of his personal life to some random guy at the service station. He mentally understood that he was in the wrong now and snapping at the poor guy was completely wrong. However, in the last twelve hours, his stress levels had risen to record levels, and Eris wasn’t sure he wouldn’t snap at any moment.

Exhaling loudly, he forced himself to calm down. “If I could ask him directly, I would have done it. Don’t you think? Just tell me when he’s on his next shift.”

“Alright, I’ll call you when I find out myself,” the mechanic shrugged. “By the way, isn’t that your car?” he nodded towards the Porsche. Eris glanced at the license plate, although he already knew without it that the car was his.

“It’s mine,” he nodded, handing his business card to the mechanic. “Call me when you’re done.”

After that, Eris turned and walked back to his car, thinking about what to do next. He remembered Azriel’s address and could, in theory, go there, but before that, he called him several times, hoping that Azriel would still pick up the phone. However, after the third call went to voicemail, Eris finally decided to give it a try.

He arrived at Azriel’s address closer to the evening, hoping they could talk. However, the problems began at the stage of finding his apartment since Eris knew the building but not the floor or apartment number. Well, he had to rely on luck. Unfortunately, luck hadn’t been on his side lately, but Eris had no other ideas.

Looking around and studying the building, he finally managed to spot Azriel, who was watching him through a window. But as soon as their eyes met, he closed the curtains. Well, now he at least knew the right floor.

Eris dialed his number, not really hoping for anything, and as he expected, Azriel didn’t answer. And instead of leaving him alone like any normal person would and giving him time to think, Eris couldn’t think of anything better than to stay there and hope that Azriel would change his mind.

He had to wait a long time for that. Good thing he had iron patience and the ability to postpone work indefinitely to hang around here all day.

Alright, maybe it hadn’t been his best idea, as it clearly wasn’t working. Azriel refused to talk to him, and Eris honestly had no idea what he needed to do to even get a chance to apologize. Not to fix everything, but just to say, "I'm sorry, I was wrong."

He spent almost the entire weekend outside Azriel’s house, feeling like a damn stalker.

By Monday evening, he had to leave because Mor had called him to talk properly. Eris told her straight that he would only speak to her lawyer because right now, he hated her twice as much. How the hell was he supposed to guess that she had been seeing Azriel when she herself told him that men didn’t attract her?

Well, if that was her plan to make him open up and trust her more, it worked. Because Eris was still in a vulnerable position due to her blackmail and his own stubbornness, which prevented him from blackmailing her back. He wasn’t going to stoop to her level. But the folder with the information in his bottom desk drawer was still there, waiting for a worst-case scenario.

And yet, here he was, talking to her lawyer and her cousin, who was trying to burn him with his gaze. Well, good luck with that because Eris couldn’t give less of a damn about this jerk. If he wanted to blame him for the fact that Azriel wasn’t talking to either of them now—and judging by the look on that jerk’s face, he did—Eris didn’t feel guilty about it. His problems. Eris had screwed up on his side too and was now dealing with all this shit, but he wasn’t trying to blame anyone.

"It would be easier for me to just go to court and split the property fifty-fifty," Eris grumbled, glancing at what this pseudo-lawyer was shoving in front of him. Even his toilet paper looked better than this document.

"My client insists on exactly this arrangement," the bastard said. Mor’s cousin also nodded, about to say something, but Eris cut him off.

"Well, to hell with that client," he snapped. "If she wants to take this to court again and waste more of her money on lawyers, more power to her. I’m not signing this."

With those words, he grabbed his briefcase and left the building. He didn’t have the patience to deal with these idiots. This divorce was slowly draining all his energy, and honestly? He was fed up. Fed up with being cautious around Mor, fearing she’d carry out her threat. Fed up with participating in these negotiations that led nowhere. Fed up with thinking about what to do with both his father and Mor’s father, who were both trying to threaten him.

Eris thought about how much he would have liked to spend time with Azriel right now. But that was impossible because Azriel was ignoring him. A few days ago, he made another stupid decision, thinking that since Azriel wasn’t responding to his calls or messages, he could try a different approach. So Eris simply transferred a small amount of money, just within a hundred dollars, with the note, "Ready to talk?"

Was it worth it? Maybe. Did Azriel block transfers from him afterward? Yes.

So now all he could do was sit in his car under Azriel’s window and pray that they could have a proper conversation. Which was basically what Eris had been doing all week.

He postponed their second hearing with Mor. Or rather, he forced Mor to postpone the hearing because the poor thing’s lawyer had quit. Eris thought about how useful it was to have so many connections. A few hints, one veiled threat to ruin the client base and career, and this jerk was already running with his tail between his legs.

Eris wondered why he hadn’t thought of this sooner. Just out of spite, he could drive all of Mor’s lawyers to quit so she’d have to spend more money and time finding new ones. He could definitely make that his hobby.

On Wednesday, someone almost stole his wheels.

Eris had only stepped away for a few minutes to go to the store, to buy water and stretch his legs—sitting in the car for several hours wasn’t exactly comfortable—and when he returned, he saw a bunch of guys in hoodies with tools running away from his car. He looked around and saw Azriel watching him through the window. He clearly either shouted at those bastards or threw something at them.

"I warned you," Azriel shouted from the window, and it was the first thing he’d said in days. The last time they’d spoken was when Eris had asked him to talk on the third day of waiting in the parking lot. Azriel had told him to shut up and leave.

"Thanks," Eris replied.

Azriel stared down at him for a few seconds and then closed the curtains. Classic.

He didn’t make any progress throughout the entire week.

Eris thought about alternative options while sitting in his apartment with the curtains tightly closed—there was something uncomfortable about panoramic windows lately. Maybe it was just his paranoia reaching new heights because the feeling that someone was following him kept getting stronger. At some point, he started memorizing the license plates of nearby parked or passing cars, just to make sure they weren’t the same cars every time. In general, he had one more reason to visit a therapist.

Late in the evening, when he was sitting with a glass of whiskey and his laptop, trying to sort out a client’s case that he had foolishly put off until the last minute, a message came to his phone. Some might call it an obsession; Eris would call it rationality, but Azriel’s number had its own ringtones—it saved him from unnecessary anticipation every time notifications or calls came to his phone. And this time, it really was Azriel.

Surprised, Eris reached for his phone and opened their chat, seeing a very long voice message. Realizing what time it was, he understood that it was probably recorded in a less-than-sober state, and he could have been respectful and not listened to it, so as not to put Azriel in an awkward position later. But honestly, Eris couldn’t contain his curiosity. And he had to admit, he missed hearing his voice.

In the voice message, Azriel talked several times about what an idiot Eris was, how it was such a bastard move to hide his marriage to Mor, how he hated Mor, how he hated Eris for not getting out of his head, and a lot more along those lines. And there were a few phrases that Eris couldn’t make out, no matter how hard he tried, because of the background noise.

However, he was at least grateful to Azriel for mentioning the name of the bar where he and some girl, judging by the sounds in the background and her supportive comments, were sitting.

Eris spent a few minutes debating whether it was worth going there himself, considering that Azriel had said in the voice message that he didn’t want to see him, and the fact that Eris had already had a fair amount to drink himself, which meant he couldn’t drive—technically couldn’t, not that it would necessarily stop him.

In the end, he dialed the number of the mechanic who had repaired his Porsche, knowing that he was a friend of Azriel’s and was likely to either help himself or know other people who could help.

The next day, he spent in court, defending a client and winning another case. Eris wanted to go to Azriel today, but something held him back. Maybe it was Azriel's harsh words yesterday about still not wanting to see Eris. Or perhaps he was just tired after a day spent in a seven-hour hearing, and it was already late in the evening.

In any case, after court, Eris went home. Parking and getting out of the car, he was walking toward the elevator when he noticed a familiar car. License plates he had already seen. Fuck.

Just as he was about to turn around and go back to his car, someone punched him right in the spleen, causing him to choke on his breath and double over.

"Eris, Eris…" a familiar voice said his name mockingly.

"Is that how you greet your beloved son-in-law?" Eris rasped with a laugh as he was grabbed by the elbows from both sides. He didn’t resist – even if he wanted to, his chances in a fight against several people were somewhere between zero and negative. Knowing Keir's people, he would have preferred not to end up in this situation at all. "What happened to simpler methods of greeting?"

"You wouldn’t be here if you’d meet me halfway," Keir said coldly.

Good news? His paranoia wasn’t just paranoia. Bad news? He was still here and very much at risk of being beaten.

And it would be good if it were just a beating because Eris froze as soon as Keir pulled out a gun, striking him hard with the butt of it. He hissed at the blow, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth from a split lip.

"I’ve known you since you were a child," Keir told him, and Eris looked up at him with pure hatred. "And in my mind, you’re still the boy running in your father’s shadow."

At these words, Eris jerked hard in the grip, but the hands holding him only tightened their hold. Keir hummed quietly, apparently not surprised but amused.

"Maybe that’s why I never thought you’d pull such a stupid stunt," he continued, spinning the gun in his hand. Eris wondered if the bullets were rubber and whether the gun was loaded at all. If Keir was against the divorce, obviously, he needed him alive.

"The intimidation worked," Eris told him, unable to tear his eyes away from the gun in his hand. "I’m trembling with fear; please forgive me, I solemnly swear not to offend your bitch of a daughter and live with her happily ever after, although I doubt you care more about her happiness than the number of zeros in my father’s bank."

Well, if he got killed, at least he would know he deserved it. Keir laughed coldly before punching him again, this time with a fist to the cheekbone. Groaning quietly, Eris breathed deeply, trying to ignore the throbbing pain and the sharp wave of childhood memories with a similar outcome.

He managed to smirk when Keir lifted his head by his hair, forcing him to look at him. Because, fortunately, or unfortunately, Keir wasn’t his father and didn’t instill the same fear, even if he had a group of men with machine guns here.

"I don’t care whether you stay married to Morrigan or not," Keir said, surprising him. "All I need is for your father to keep his part of our deal."

"And what deal is worth your daughter’s life?" Eris asked.

"Your father knows, and that’s enough."

"Great, so disabling the parking cameras—because I know you’re not a complete idiot and did that—involving people to hack the building’s security system, stalking me for the past few weeks, and the other organizational aspects of this intimidation were for what?" Eris looked him in the eye, understanding that it was better not to anger a man with a gun, but he had just finished a damn tough shift, and they literally beat him up in his own home’s parking lot. The adrenaline of the last few minutes fully allowed him not to fear for his life. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

"To say, ‘tell your father this…’, although you could’ve just contacted Beron directly, who’s also not thrilled about the divorce and who will likely agree to keep whatever deal you made without involving me and Mor."

The safety clicked. Double fuck.

"If I ask you to do something, be so kind as not to ask questions," Keir hissed, grabbing Eris tightly by the jaw. "Your father may be against the divorce, but I want to ensure that he fulfills his part of the deal. And if I need all these ‘organizational aspects’ for that, so be it."

"Irrational waste of resources, now I at least know that Mor takes after her father," Eris scoffed, and that seemed to be the last straw because Keir pressed the barrel of the gun to his cheek, making him involuntarily swallow nervously.

"Go on," Keir said with a sick grin. "No, really, I’m curious how much more you want to tell me."

"I doubt my father will keep his part of the deal if you shoot me."

"Didn’t know Beron was famous as father of the year."

"We both know it’s a matter of honor, not love for children. He probably won’t like you maiming his heir."

For a few seconds, Keir stared into his eyes before lowering the trigger. Click. Eris exhaled quietly, realizing the gun wasn’t loaded. Keir's men released him, and he almost collapsed to the ground.

"You have a week, after which I expect a call from your father saying he intends to keep his promises," Keir said sternly, beginning to walk toward his car. "And, Eris, next time the gun will be loaded," he threw back as a final warning.

Eris watched him go, spending a few minutes, maybe hours, maybe seconds, in a trance until one of the other residents asked if he was okay. Lying about a boxing club, Eris waved off the concerned neighbor, who was worried by the "technical issues" that had apparently kept him from entering the parking lot for the last thirty minutes.

As he rode the elevator to his apartment, Eris realized his hands were trembling uncontrollably. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, trying not to think about the possibility that his whole body was shaking. He became acutely aware of it when he tried to insert the key and unlock the door.

He wasn’t sure he could close the door when he walked inside. He did close it. At least he thought he did. Feeling his strength leave him entirely, Eris slid down the wall, closing his eyes and urging himself to calm down. In vain. His chest throbbed irregularly, blood pounded in his temples, and breathing came in gasps. Panic. Damn panic.

He didn’t remember how he pulled out his phone. Didn’t remember how he dialed the number and put the phone to his ear, didn’t remember how many rings he listened to before someone answered, hundreds, thousands, or maybe just two.

"Fuck, if you think you can just…" came the irritated but so familiar and needed voice.

"Azriel," Eris forced himself to say hoarsely. On the other end, there was silence, the unspoken grievances halted.

"Eris?" this time he asked with concern.

"Azriel," Eris swallowed and knocked his head against the wall. "I need you."

***

When the emotions cooled down, all that remained was a huge exhaustion.

Azriel stood by the road, trying to catch any car, but after five minutes, his patience ran out, and he started walking home on foot. Walking through the night streets felt therapeutic, much calmer than he thought he should be. Because Azriel was not calm, but with each step, the anger gradually faded, leaving only a dull ache in his chest.

His thoughts were spinning wildly in his head until he reached home about an hour later. And there, Azriel was too tired to think about anything other than how badly he needed to sleep.

The next day, he wasn't at the workshop, just as he had told Rhysand. Ignoring numerous missed calls from people he currently wanted nothing to do with, Azriel texted Amren, asking her to arrange some time off for him—paid or unpaid, he didn’t care. Any leave would do.

He could have not texted at all, because what could Rhysand do? Fire him? Azriel just scoffed at the thought and opened a chat with Cassian, asking him to finish the repairs on the Porsche and a few other cars that were in Azriel’s garage, so they could be completed today. Cassian asked why he wasn’t at work, but Azriel didn’t reply, having no desire to explain.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he was here, feeling like a complete idiot, when all he wanted was just a bit of honesty from the people around him. It wasn’t such a difficult or impossible task—not to hide things from him. Azriel found himself feeling exactly as he had four years ago when he learned about Mor’s betrayal.

But back then, despite the pain and anger, he had felt a certain relief that the confusing nightmare he somehow considered a relationship was over. Now, he didn’t feel that relief. Instead, there was an unpleasant ache somewhere inside, refusing to go away. There was also an unpleasant ache at the thought that he wasn’t going to let Eris back into his life. Yet Azriel thought it was the right decision.

He spent the rest of the day on the couch, not knowing how else to occupy himself other than mindlessly flipping through TV channels and eating reheated frozen pizza, which only God knows how long had been in his freezer. Somewhere between a melodrama about a farm girl and a rich businessman from the city and a documentary about sharks, Azriel got up from his place and went back to the kitchen for a third bottle of beer.

Something made him look out the window, and he noticed the familiar red Ferrari parked outside his house. Oh, for fuck's sake.

He watched through the window as Eris got out of the car, looking around, then scanning the building, not knowing which floor Azriel lived on. And when Eris finally saw him, Azriel closed the curtains. His phone immediately started ringing from the next room, and he didn’t need to be a psychic to understand who exactly was on the other end. However, he had no desire to talk to him.

Azriel couldn’t say exactly how long Eris stayed under his window after that because he kept telling himself that he didn’t care at all how Eris spent his time. If he wanted to continue waiting in the parking lot, hoping Azriel would change his mind and come out to talk to him, then let him do so. But hours later, when Azriel glanced out the window out of curiosity, Eris's car was still there.

It was still there in the morning when Azriel woke up and made coffee. It was there in the afternoon when he cooked lunch from the remaining groceries in the fridge, hoping he wouldn’t have to leave the apartment to go to the store. In the evening, when Azriel checked the stock of frozen pizza, the car was still there. Each time he looked out the window, Eris's car was in the parking lot.

It was the same the next day. Azriel continued to ignore calls, responding only to Cassian and warning him that if he was currently with Rhysand or planned to pass on his messages, he would also be added to the list of people Azriel was currently cutting out of his life. Cassian didn’t ask questions about what had happened, only asked if he was okay and if he needed him to come over. Azriel said he’d answer that later, to both questions. Because for now, he had no idea.

And yet, his fridge was slowly running out of food, and he wasn’t in a financial position to rely solely on delivery services, the fees for which were absurdly and unfairly high, so with a heavy sigh, Azriel decided to step outside to the nearest store.

When he stepped out of his building, the red Ferrari was still parked almost at the entrance. Its owner was sitting inside and quickly noticed Azriel, getting out of the car.

“Don’t,” Azriel said strictly, extending his hand forward. Eris stopped, swallowing whatever he was about to say, waiting for further instructions. “Just shut up. And be careful with the car, in this neighborhood, the wheels can be stolen,” Azriel remarked with a cold smirk before continuing on his way to the nearest supermarket. Despite his warning, Eris followed him. Well, it’s not like he would be worried about the wheels.

Azriel successfully ignored his presence, and Eris remained strangely silent as he followed him. Well, technically, he had told him to shut up, and it’s not like he was complaining now that Eris was just doing what he asked. However, the fact that Eris was following him closely was getting on his nerves. Really getting on his nerves.

Nevertheless, being the stubborn idiot that he was, Azriel continued to pay no attention to him, throwing the necessary groceries into the basket. He also ignored him when the cashier gave Eris a strange look and then whispered, asking if everything was okay with Azriel. He just shrugged, muttering that it was doubtful, and took the bags of groceries.

They walked back to the apartment in the same manner, and Azriel didn’t look back, already about to open the door when Eris finally broke the silence.

“Can we talk?” he asked. “Please?”

Azriel turned around, looking at him with indifference. “Later.” And left.

Back in the apartment, he wanted to hit himself harder just for the thought that crossed his mind about actually talking to Eris. Calmly and like an adult. But the more petty and wounded part of him kept repeating that Eris lied to him. And didn’t even intend to tell the truth, which made it all much worse.

In the evening, the Ferrari wasn’t there, and Azriel didn’t understand if he felt relieved or disappointed because of this fact.

The next day, however, the Ferrari returned. It stood in its rightful place while local boys ran around with admiring eyes, approaching closer to take photos. Azriel just snorted, watching this. He stood on the porch of the house, waiting for Cassian with his car, which had been sitting in the workshop all this time.

Eris stood by his car, paying no attention to the kids and teenagers gawking at the Ferrari. Azriel just frowned every time he couldn’t help but look in his direction, meeting his gaze.

When Cassian arrived, parking the car, he glanced oddly at Eris and Azriel, still not knowing what had happened but sensing nothing good. He handed Azriel the keys, asking if he wanted to have a drink together. Azriel just replied that not today, but he was seriously considering the offer.

And then he watched in surprise as Nesta's familiar car drove into the parking lot, toward which Cassian headed. It seemed he had missed a lot.

Giving Eris one last look, Azriel went back home.

“How long are you going to ignore him?” Cassian asked, lying on the couch and eating his chips. Azriel threw a pillow at him, but the bastard dodged it. “What? Poor guy comes here every day, you could’ve talked by now.”

It was true. Eris had been coming here every day for the past week, but Azriel refused to talk to him. Not because he liked making him drive across the city and torturing him with waiting. Because… Azriel didn’t know why. He just didn’t feel ready to talk about all of this.

Just like he refused to go to work at the workshop, blocking Rhysand and asking Cassian to tell him not to even think about showing up at his house. Azriel would definitely get a headache if Rhysand joined Eris under his windows.

“He sits in his car, in a luxurious car, I must note,” Azriel shrugged, grabbing a handful of Cassian’s chips. “It’s not that much of a torture.”

“And you’re sitting here like a hermit, growing a beard,” Cassian replied, and Azriel ran a hand over his grown stubble. Now that he had reduced his outings to a minimum, exploiting Cassian as a grocery deliverer, shaving every two days seemed pointless. “Soon you’ll run off into the forest and chase after dwarves.”

“Or hunt witches, if I’m lucky,” Azriel grumbled.

“There are no cars to fix in the forest,” Cassian noted.

“And far fewer idiots.”

“There’s no me in the forest.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” after these words, the pillow he had thrown at Cassian earlier hit his head. Azriel didn’t have time to dodge.

“You’re being ungrateful to the only person talking to you right now,” Cassian shook his head. Azriel didn’t remind him that he was choosing not to talk to the two idiots who were still leaving messages and calls on his phone.

Cassian stayed with him until the evening, trying to entertain and keep Azriel from feeling like he was going through a depressive episode. Why the hell was he even letting this whole situation affect him so much? But the truth was, he felt terrible. And in the loneliness of the apartment, his thoughts consumed him with double the force. But with Cassian, they quieted down, at least for a while.

The next evening, tired of loneliness, Azriel spent at a bar with Gwyn, finally having time to meet her after a long period.

“So, what happened?” she asked right after the first shots.

“Why do you think something happened?” Azriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Come on, how many times have you invited me out for a drink just because you missed me?” she chuckled, shaking her head.

“I missed you,” Azriel said. “I’m fine. I can have a drink with my friend once a month without any reason.”

“And without your new red-haired friend,” Gwyn noted. Damn perceptive people.

Azriel ordered another round of shots, Gwyn still looking at him expectantly. And despite the fact that Azriel knew she would figure it out eventually, he wasn’t too eager to go into details. However, those very details came out on their own as he got more intoxicated.

“What an asshole,” Gwyn muttered, wrinkling her nose. “Did he apologize?”

“I’ve been ignoring him for more than a week now,” Azriel said, and Gwyn frowned even more. “What?”

“You’re an idiot,” she said bluntly.

“I’m an idiot?”

“You’re an idiot,” Gwyn nodded, repeating it again. “You always do this when you’re upset. You ignore people, not giving them a chance to speak.”

“We’re here because someone didn’t speak up in time,” Azriel noted. “It’s not my fault I don’t want to deal with Eris now.”

“Well… you’re drinking, you’re talking about him with me, and you’re obviously upset. I think you want to deal with him, it’s just your stupid head that’s not letting you realize it.”

“Gwyn, he’s literally married!”

“Azriel, he’s literally getting a divorce! How often do rich lawyers ready to apologize to you for days on end fall into your lap? Probably not that often,” she snorted. “I’m not saying you should forgive him or anything like that. No, I wouldn’t be thrilled either if I found out something like that about someone I date. But I would at least give him a chance to apologize and explain before cutting all ties.”

Azriel remained silent, downing another shot instead of answering. Gwyn didn’t lag behind, downing her glass as well. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should have listened to Eris before deciding that it was over. Because at the end of the day, Azriel might have missed him. Just a little. And maybe, just maybe, he was hoping that Eris would keep coming back.

About an hour later, this all escalated to the stage of recording voice messages he would regret the next morning. Unfortunately, Gwyn didn’t stop him. Instead, she actually encouraged the idea.

Another half hour later, they apparently accidentally called someone else, because Cassian and Nesta showed up at the bar, grabbing them by the elbows and leading them to the car. Gwyn protested that there were still uneaten fruits in her cocktail, which forced Nesta to promise to buy her pineapple in the morning—a promise she clearly had no intention of keeping. And Azriel grumbled that Cassian was whipped, earning an icy glare from Nesta, but he was too drunk to care.

Despite his intoxication, Nesta's threat to kill him and dump his body in the woods if he dared to puke in her car felt very real and registered in his mind quite clearly.

Azriel didn't remember exactly how he got to his apartment. Regardless, he woke up with a hangover, completely alone.

He didn't have the courage to listen to the voice message he sent Eris last night, but the message has been read and listened to, so he was definitely fucked.

Knowing that Eris most likely listened to a voice message full of drunken rambling, careless confessions, and rude insults—Azriel knew himself well enough to be almost certain that this disastrous trio was in that damn message—he felt a serious wave of shame.

He wasn't sure yet whether he needed to clarify that everything said in the message was just drunken nonsense, following way too many shots of whatever cocktails Gwyn had chosen for them. Considering that back in college, the two of them could down a bottle of tequila and still stay conscious, Gwyn's taste in drinks should have been approached with caution. But last night, Azriel was too upset to care about what he was drinking. And now he was dealing with the consequences.

On the other hand, Eris wasn't an idiot and probably realized that a voice message with slurred words and the sounds of a bar in the background wasn't exactly recorded sober. Maybe he didn't listen to it all the way through. Azriel desperately hoped that was the case.

Azriel found himself staring out the window, hoping against hope to see Eris's car parked outside again. This time, he was ready to go out and talk, despite the headache and the feeling that he'd been run over by a bus multiple times. He couldn't pinpoint when the sight of Eris's car and the man himself on the street had become such a familiar occurrence. But today, the usual parking spot was empty, and the silence in his apartment felt suffocating.

His phone rang, and Azriel genuinely thought it might be Eris, but it turned out to be Cassian. Well, he should probably apologize for dragging Cassian and Nesta out to pick them up last night.

"Still alive?" Cassian asked, his voice laced with a teasing tone.

"Just barely," Azriel grumbled, still feeling the throbbing in his temples. "Sorry for bothering you last night. I don't even remember calling you."

"You didn’t," Cassian replied simply. Azriel frowned, not understanding.

"Did Gwyn call Nesta?" he asked, trying to clarify.

"As far as I know, no. Eris called me. He still had my number from when I fixed his Porsche. Said you even gave him your address and asked me to pick you up because you told him you didn't want to see him."

Azriel didn't know whether he wanted to die from embarrassment or the hangover. The preferred scenario was for the ground to open up and swallow him whole because he hadn't expected this turn of events.

"And what the hell?" Azriel asked, not even sure what exactly he was questioning. What the hell was Eris thinking, calling Cassian? What the hell was Cassian thinking, giving him his number? What the hell was Cassian thinking, not mentioning this earlier? Or maybe he had, but Azriel was too drunk to understand it last night. And seriously, what the hell was going on with his life?

"Well, it was late, and Eris sounded really convincing," Cassian explained. "I don't envy you, though."

"Just kill me, seriously," Azriel groaned.

"Take some painkillers, get some sleep, and when you wake up, finally talk to him," Cassian advised. "Call if you need anything. Nesta is making some recovery soup for Gwyn. I can bring some over if you're completely unable to function today."

Azriel didn't ask whose apartment they were all in together and since when Nesta and Cassian were even staying in the same place. Instead, he thanked him for the offer and ended the call.

He really should sort out the hangover first and then, with a clear head, deal with the consequences of his questionable decisions. That's why, like a responsible adult with many problems to solve, he went back to bed, praying that either a meteorite would strike the Earth, rendering everyone's problems irrelevant, or that the gods would take pity on him and magically resolve all his issues.

Unfortunately, upon waking, neither of those things had happened, but he did feel ready to finally talk like a grown-up. Azriel looked around, trying to find his phone while also trying to figure out whether the clock showing six meant it was morning or evening, given that it was hard to tell from the darkness outside.

He found his phone and pondered whether to text or call or wait for Eris to call next so that the apology initiative would still seem to come from Eris. As he mulled this over, he looked for something edible in the fridge.

But in the end, he called, dialing Eris's number, only to reach voicemail. Either this was a sick relay race of "ignore each other", which they had been passing back and forth for the past two weeks, or something else was going on because what the actual hell? Azriel frowned and called again, getting the same result. Not that anything could have changed in those few minutes, but he still hoped.

Deciding to screw it, pride be damned, Azriel texted him, briefly saying they could talk. But over the next three hours, the message remained unread and unanswered, sitting there lonely in the chat, right after that idiotic voice message.

Logically, Azriel knew that Eris had a life—he still had work and, as much as it pained Azriel to admit, some semblance of a family with Mor. But the irrational part of him was angry that just when he wanted to patch things up and give Eris a chance to apologize, Eris suddenly stopped responding.

Or maybe Azriel had made it all too clear that he didn't want to continue anything. After all, even he wouldn't chase after someone for this long, so maybe Eris had grown tired of chasing him, realizing Azriel wouldn't give him a chance.

As Azriel resigned himself to just going back to bed and dealing with things with a fresh mind in the morning, he finally got a call from Eris. It brought both relief and irritation in equal measure.

“Fuck, if you think you can just…” he started, not giving Eris time for a greeting.

“Azriel,” Eris’s voice came through, surprisingly hoarse and quiet. Azriel immediately stopped, frowning—something in Eris's voice made him instantly alert.

“Eris?” Azriel asked, his concern growing as he listened to the uneven breathing on the other end, already preparing to ask what had happened.

“Azriel. I need you,” Eris said—softly, hoarsely, and brokenly, and those words clenched something tight in Azriel’s chest, a lump rising in his throat.

“What happened? Are you home?” he asked, standing up and frantically looking for his jacket and car keys. The silence on the other end only made him more anxious with each passing second. “Eris?”

“Yeah. Home.”

“I’m coming, okay? Just wait for me.”

Eris mumbled something unintelligible and hung up, leaving Azriel in even greater panic and even more frustrated that Eris was making him worry.

Grabbing his keys and unable to find his jacket, Azriel rushed out into the cold night in just a T-shirt. He quickly drove off, using all his knowledge of the back roads to get to Eris's place as fast as possible. Something was unsettling in Eris’s voice that made him rush.

Despite the distance, Azriel made it to Eris’s place in a record fifteen minutes, probably breaking more than a few traffic laws. The security guard at the entrance gave him a long look, but Azriel flashed him a smile and a look that said if he wasn’t let through, he’d either punch the guard or drive straight through the barrier.

Luckily, neither option was necessary. He was allowed through. Azriel quickly parked his car next to the familiar red Ferrari, briefly noting a strange red stain on the asphalt.

He was lucky that some man was also entering the elevator, using his keys, and Azriel shamelessly followed him, ignoring the skeptical glance. Fuck it, right now his thoughts were occupied with only one person.

As soon as the elevator doors opened on the right floor, Azriel shot out and immediately headed for the door, tensing up at the fact that it was not just unlocked but slightly ajar.

“Your door’s practically wide open,” Azriel grumbled, closing it behind him.

Entering, he immediately spotted Eris. And holy shit, he looked awful.

“Hey,” Eris said, still not opening his eyes when Azriel crouched down in front of him.

“What happened?” Azriel didn’t hold back, gently touching Eris’s jaw and lifting his head to get a better look at the bruises and split lip. “Who did this?”

“I’m afraid life did,” Eris chuckled hoarsely, but Azriel didn’t find anything funny about it.

“Who did this, Eris?” he repeated, even more seriously.

“Powerful people,” Eris smiled bitterly. “The kind who always get away with it.”

“Point them out to me, and they won’t get away with anything ever again,” Azriel growled.

Eris was silent, opening his eyes and looking at him as if he couldn’t believe Azriel was really there.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Because you called?” Azriel replied, not understanding the question. “If you say right now that I didn’t have to come, I’m going to kill you.”

Eris huffed quietly, leaning more into his touch, reaching out for the contact. Azriel noticed his trembling hands and grabbed them with his free hand, squeezing lightly.

"Experience shows that I can't be killed," Eris snorted. "So, I'll still say, you didn't have to come."

Azriel squeezed his hands tighter as if grounding him. "I doubt you could kick me out right now."

"I can't do much of anything right now, Azriel."

Azriel’s heart clenched at Eris’s words. There was something deeply unsettling about seeing someone so strong and self-assured looking so broken. He’d seen Eris being an arrogant prick or indifferent bastard — but this was something else entirely. This was raw, unfiltered vulnerability, and it terrified him more than he wanted to admit.

"You are so dramatic, and I'm the one who should be dramatic right now," Azriel grumbled, trying to sound casual as he helped Eris to his feet. "Let's go wash your wounds."

Eris silently followed him to the bathroom, obediently sitting on the edge of the tub. Azriel grabbed a clean towel, wetting it with warm water before carefully dabbing at the dried blood on Eris's face. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension of everything that had led to this moment.

Eris flinched slightly as the towel brushed against a particularly tender spot, and Azriel paused. "Sorry," he murmured.

Eris shook his head. "It's fine."

Azriel's jaw tightened, but he nodded, focusing on his task. As he cleaned the wounds, he couldn't help but notice the bruises on Eris's arms, the marks of a struggle. Whoever had done this hadn't held back. And damn it, this brought a huge wave of anger.

"I am sorry," Eris said quietly while Azriel rummaged through his first aid kit. "For... well, everything."

"For now, shut the fuck up. We'll talk about it later," Azriel snapped, realizing that right now, talking about Mor, marriage, divorce, all of that was the last thing he wanted to do. His thoughts were more occupied with where the hell the hydrogen peroxide was. "First, I'll wash and treat your wounds, make you some tea, you'll tell me what the hell happened to you, and then I'll give you a good yelling for everything you've done wrong. And after that, maybe, just maybe, I'll let you apologize and admit what an idiot you are."

"Good plan," Eris smirked, leaning against the tile. He hissed softly when Azriel began treating his wounds with antiseptic.

"You need ice," Azriel said grimly, examining the bruises. "And let me examine you completely."

"It's not that bad. Just admit you missed me and want to see me shirtless," Eris laughed weakly while Azriel rolled his eyes. He would have slapped him, but Eris's beaten appearance was enough to dismiss the idea.

"You were jumped and beaten, and judging by your untouched knuckles, the fight wasn't damn fair, and you didn't exactly fight back, and you're telling me it's not that bad?" Azriel looked at him in disbelief, getting riled up by those words.

"Family quarrels happen to everyone," Eris said, shrugging. His hands were no longer trembling, which was possibly a good sign.

"I'm going to kill you one day. But for now, I'm adding this to the mental list of things I'll yell at you about later."

Azriel helped him up and led him to the living room. Eris collapsed onto the couch, grimacing in pain. After going to the kitchen for some ice and wrapping it in a towel, Azriel applied it to Eris's cheek.

"Idiot," Azriel grumbled, not even knowing why he grabbed his hand again and didn't loosen his grip. Eris didn't resist.

"Why did you come, then?" Eris asked.

Azriel's grip on Eris's hand tightened slightly, his eyes darting away as if avoiding the weight of the question. He didn't have a good answer, not one that made sense, at least. His chest felt tight, a mix of frustration, anger, and something else he didn't want to name.

"Because I'm an idiot too."

tag list: @sizzlingstarlightsky @isnotwhatyourethinking @molcat07 @chairofchaos @lilah-asteria

#eris vanserra #acotar #azris #azris fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azris supremacy #modernau

28 notes · View notes

fefesoutsiderstuff · 4 months ago

Text

Soc September 2024 - Autistic Cherry :D

Submitting for @socseptember

"What have we done?" Cherry asked no one in particular, staring at the fountain. It was at that exact location Bob Sheldon - her boyfriend - ex? - had been fatally stabbed. And she couldn't stop looking. Why wasn't there any police tape? Why did this happen? Why did Bob drink, why couldn't she handle the crowded drive-in like everyone else, what did having her hands squeezed do that made it all quieter, what did everyone else want from her?

"We were only having fun," Paul said miserably.

Cherry wasn't good at detecting lies, but she could say with absolute certainty that that was bullshit. "You were only having fun?" she asked incredulously.

"We were only having fun. Just hanging out. Just horsin' 'round. Doin' what we've always done."

Deep breath, deep breath. But instead, there was an indignant squeak. "Fun? A five-on-two fight is fun? Drowning a fourteen-year-old boy is fun? And what did you expect? Johnny got jumped a week ago, and guess who did it!"

"Bob went crazy when he saw you with that greaser kid," Paul... growled? It wasn't really growly, but if it had sounded like it hurt his throat, it would have been. "You held his hand at the concession stand."

Cherry backed away as her friends - they were still her friends, right? They couldn't stop being her friends without saying so, right? - approached her threateningly and the cacophony of reprimanding began.

Loud. Too loud. Too loud. Oh, fuck-

And then it hit her. Way too late as she was now hunched forward with her hands over her ears being yelled at to look at them and explain herself and all those things she couldn't do.

"Are you all... mad at me?"

Pause.

"Are you out of your mind?" Beverly yelled. "Yes, we're mad! How did it take you that long to figure it out?" she screamed as Cherry stared at the ground, stifling sobs. "Bob wasn't jealous! You can't hold someone else's hand! You of all people should know this with all your righteous indignation-"

"I can explain," Cherry whispered, not that anyone heard her. "I can explain. I can explain." The phrase lost meaning as she mumbled it to herself and, too tired and overwhelmed to maintain her facade, settled onto the ground, dropping Bob's letterman jacket behind herself.

And she rocked.

Back and forth, she shifted her weight, knees hugged against her chest.

It might have been freeing under different circumstances. But it wasn't. It was a terrifying feeling of helplessness and shame and fear.

Cherry was petrified.

Everyone was staring at her. But she was alone. And she always would be.

"Cherry, what the fuck is this?"

Oh, gosh, how could she ever explain this?

"Uh... what the fuck is what?" she asked. "Am I allowed to say fuck right now? Is that okay?"

"Why are you rocking back and forth like a crazy person?"

Cherry blinked. Then she cracked. Then she shattered. "I don't know!" she sobbed. "The world is too loud and everyone is doing fine but I'm not and I try, I really do, but sometimes, I just need a hand squeeze because drive-ins are too loud! And I don't like parties because they're loud and people-y and they mess up my routines and I always end up doing something wrong because what am I supposed to do? No one tells me these things! And now I broke up with my boyfriend and he got himself killed and everyone is screaming at me because I needed a squish! Is that too much to ask for? Is it too much to ask that after a whole thirty hours of pretending to be normal while having a panic attack, I get emotional support from the one person I felt safe enough to be myself around?"

She finally looked up and saw everyone staring at her. But she couldn't stop. "The entire time I've known any of you, I've been pretending. Because normal people are nothing like me. Normal people don't make nests around themselves in bed at night and sleep with their hands under their chins. And I only realized that after a sleepover with Marcia in third grade when she just flopped onto her side and went to sleep! Y'all don't stay up for half an hour writing stories in your head and scripting out responses for everything anyone could ever possibly say to you the following day! How?"

There was no response for a while.

Then Marcia dropped into the grass beside Cherry. "That's... why?"

"I think you're cool," Cherry whined between sobs. "And I wanted you to think I was cool. But I'm not. I'm a dork. I'm sorry you have to deal with this. You shouldn't have to. I'm just really tired so I can't pretend to be a functional human anymore. And I wore the bad socks today."

"The bad socks?" Beverly asked confusedly.

Marcia looked at Beverly and shook her head, whispering "Don't make her explain right now," before returning her attention to her distressed friend. "You wore the bad socks today?"

"I wore the bad socks today. I wanna crawl out of my own skin and become a cat. I don't like being a human. Humans are weird and complicated. Cats don't make themselves think they're having an allergic reaction without actually having an allergic reaction."

"No, they don't," Marcia said softly. "But cats also can't read."

"I wanna be a literate kitty cat."

"Okay, well, I'm sorry. I can't help you with that, but how about we take some deep breaths, okay? Breathe with me?" Marcia asked before taking a deep, exaggerated breath through her nose. "Good. Aaaand, out through the mouth."

A few moments went by. "I actually liked when Dallas brought up the cicada thing. Not like that, but I like information. He sounded really knowledgeable about bugs."

"He did?"

"Yeah."

Marcia nodded understandingly. "I bet you wanted to talk to him about sciencey things."

"I did. Thank goodness you told me to ignore him. Oh, wait, we're on the floor, what- this isn't correct. This isn't correct at all," Cherry rambled, struggling to her feet.

"You wanna get up? We can go home and you can talk to me about bugs?" Marcia asked, following suit and brushing off her dress.

"I don't know much about bugs, actually. But I do have an uncomfortable amount of knowledge surrounding the Middle Ages. Women weren't actually baby factories; virginity was the cool thing."

The rant continued for a while. Marcia listened patiently.

And for all the grief that weekend came with, Cherry felt a thousand times lighter than ever before.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Yap to me about this. Please yap to me about this. Comments. Questions. Concerns. Anything.

UPDATE: she has an rp blog now: @/cherryv

#the outsiders #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders musical #the outsiders book #the outsiders movie #autistic cherry #cherry valance #actually autistic #justice for tulsa #soc september

23 notes · View notes

cirilla-fiona-riannon · 1 year ago

Text

Francis Drake Main Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

(What should I do?)

Drake: "........"

The sea breeze blew fiercely, tousling our hair.

As I cocked the hammer and placed my finger on the trigger as he had taught me, Drake also readjusted his grip on the knife, creating a tension that bound us together like a tightly pulled thread.

(With this, everything will end.)

The impending danger, the selfish betrayal, and these tangled emotions.

In that moment, when I exerted strength in my trembling finger...

【 Ah, as expected. 】

(“As expected"?)

With a bitter and sad smile, his lips formed these words without sound.

(I see, he...)

I decided to take a gamble and put the muzzle of the gun I had pointed at him against my temple.

Drake: "----!"

Right after that, the sound of a gunshot echoed, and a bullet was fired into the sky.

Drake: "What the hell are you doing, Mitsuki?"

Panicking, he rushed over and grabbed my wrist, pointing the gun away.

I smiled and looked at him.

Mitsuki: "No matter what happens, I won't betray you."

Mitsuki: "I promised you that, remember?"

I know he thought that I would betray him when I pointed the gun at him.

(You've been living in betrayal for so long, wishing for nothing but destruction in the endless sea.)

(I finally understand what you're looking for.)

(Deep in your heart, you want to believe.)

I gazed back at him with a calm feeling.

Mitsuki: "I noticed. You disappeared without leaving any clue, but you believed I was coming after you."

Drake: "----!"

(The man who said people were easy to betray believed in me.)

(Even if it was a pessimistic hope, he still believed in me.)

Mitsuki: "I believed in your promise that you would always help if something happened to me."

Drake: "Is that why you pointed the gun at yourself?"

Mitsuki: "Yeah. And then, you did help me, just like you promised."

Drake: "I made that promise to repay my debt, and the debt is long gone."

Drake: "I didn't keep the promise. I just acted on impulse."

For a moment, he seemed to stumble over his words.

Drake: "I guess I saved you on the spur of the moment."

Drake: "My emotions betrayed me before I could even think."

Drake muttered to himself, sounding as though he had discovered something new about himself.

Drake: "Mitsuki, don't you understand? I betrayed you."

Drake: "I approached you, deceived the people in the mansion, and trampled on your feelings."

Mitsuki: "I know."

Mitsuki: "I fell in love with you and felt hurt when you betrayed me. My feelings were a mess."

Mitsuki: "I thought about killing you and ending everything. That way, I could protect everyone in the mansion and erase the world's destruction along with you."

Drake: "If that's the case—"

Mitsuki: "But how I decide isn't something you get to tell me."

(It was Drake's words that supported me.)

Mitsuki: "Living in a way I don't desire would be the true betrayal, so I only did what I wanted."

Drake: ".........."

Would persisting in this love be considered betrayal?

(He's a terrible person who would even try to kill me—a sad person who can't believe in trust unless he goes to such lengths.)

(Even if my decision betrays the important people around me, there's no way I could turn away from this love and betray myself.)

Mitsuki: "No matter what happens, even if I get betrayed again, I won't betray you."

Mitsuki: "I don't want to betray my promise or love for you."

(I want him to trust me. I want to make him believe.)

That there were indeed feelings that could never be betrayed.

Mitsuki: "I love you."

This is my answer to his betrayal.

Drake: "........"

After staying silent for a while, Drake eventually released the hand he had been holding.

Drake: "You're really confessing in this kind of situation?"

Drake: "You're really stupid."

He readjusted the knife in his opposite hand and pressed it against my neck.

Feeling the cold blade grazing my skin, I gently placed my hand over his.

Mitsuki: "If you really want me to die, then go ahead and kill me."

Mitsuki: "But I don't want to die, so I'll resist and fight."

Mitsuki: "Because I want to convey my feelings to you no matter how many times."

One wrong move, and he could thrust a knife at me. Still, I stared straight at him.

His eyes, as clear as the beautiful sea, were so captivating that I felt like I would sink deep into them.

Drake: "........."

The wind that had been blowing suddenly calmed down.

Drake: "As if I could do that."

He muttered softly and threw the knife to the ground.

Drake: "Ah, damn it. What kind of woman are you?"

Cursing, he sat on the ground and put his hands on his head.

Drake: "I kept provoking you, expecting and believing that you'd come after me."

Drake: “It looks like I lost that bet a long time ago.”

Mitsuki: “Bet?”

Drake: “A bet on whether you would betray me.”

He looked up at me with a self-deprecating smile.

Drake: “Dhampirs aren’t as resilient as purebloods.”

Drake: “I intended to laugh and die if you shot me, all the while telling myself that everything you said was nothing more than just empty words and that there’s nothing in this world to believe in.”

(So he tried to make me kill him?)

(Did he want to drive himself to death in that way?)

Maybe Drake couldn’t dispel his doubts about believing without going that far.

Drake: “If you had thrown away the gun, I would’ve killed you right then and there.”

Drake: “I wanted to prove to you that showing leniency and saying it’s okay to be betrayed would only lead you to your death.”

It looked like he really intended to do that.

Mitsuki: “But you didn’t.”

Drake: “Yeah.”

Drake: "You're the woman of destiny—the woman who can turn the distortion of the world into hope."

Drake: "I could've erased you with my own hands and looked for a new destruction, yet the moment you pointed the gun at your temple, all the betrayals and bets I had set up vanished, and my body moved instinctively."

Drake: "My feelings for you drove me to do that."

(Those feelings...)

Wanting to confirm it, I crouched down in front of him and peered into his face.

Mitsuki: "Drake, why did you go to such lengths to test me?"

Drake: "........."

He averted his gaze and let out a sigh.

Drake: "Because I fell in love with you."

(..........)

Drake: "I used to think there was nothing in this world worth believing in. But after meeting you, I started wanting to believe in something. I wanted to believe in you."

Drake: "That's what I started to feel."

(This guy is really something.)

He wanted to believe in me, so he tested me by betraying me.

(He's so destructive and stormy that he would even gamble his own life.)

Despite being tossed around, I still reach out, wanting to get closer.

It took me a while, but I finally reached his heart.

Mitsuki: “Believe me, Drake.”

Mitsuki: “I love you.”

Drake: “.........”

Overwhelmed by feelings, I declared my love again, and he pulled me into a tight embrace.

Drake: “I love you too, Mitsuki.”

He wrapped his arms around my back and held me tightly.

Drake: “I’m so stupid.”

Drake: “Even though I was serious about wanting to kill you, I still find your warmth irresistibly precious.”

Mitsuki: “Drake.”

He buried his face in my hair and whispered.

I could feel his emotions through his hot breath and the strength of his arms.

Mitsuki: “Me too. Being able to touch you like this makes me really happy.”

I wrapped my arms around his back.

Feeling our synchronized heartbeat, I felt like I finally found the place where my heart truly belongs.

Drake: “I might still not understand your stubborn kindness and naivety, even in the future, but still, I want to believe in you.”

Mitsuki: “Francis.”

Drake: “Haha! I never thought I’d fall in love like this.”

Francis loosened his grip, and he looked down at me.

His eyes were certainly seeking me.

Drake: “Mitsuki, I want you.”

Drake: “I want to take you away to the ends of the endless sea.”

Mitsuki: "I want you too. That feeling hasn't changed since the night I confessed."

Mitsuki: "No, knowing the real you, I want you even more."

Drake: "It's a draw, then."

We exchanged a knowing smile at a breath's distance, and our lips met naturally.

(I love him.)

I fell for him and got betrayed, and that's when I saw the real him.

Even if my feelings were shattered like a storm, I couldn't betray this love.

(These feelings will never be broken.)

Drake: "You truly are the woman of destiny."

Drake: "You've completely changed my destiny."

Mitsuki: "It's not that I'm the woman of destiny; it's because you and I fell in love that our destinies changed."

He slightly widened his eyes in surprise and smiled brightly.

Drake: "I love you, Mitsuki."

On a cliff overlooking the endless sea, surrounded by the sound of waves and illuminated by the gentle light of the crescent moon, I finally saw the real Francis I longed for.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp drake #ikevamp francis #ikevamp jp #ikevamp translations #cybird #francis drake

54 notes · View notes

inthedarkshadows000 · 2 months ago

Text

SneakPeak#107.......

From the story I might never write

[Iskaed au pt.1]

Those misogynistic pigs!!! They only wanted to meet today to try and intimidate me.

As if, I snorted and massaged the crown of my head with my pointers.

I did not work through blood and tears for half a decade so some self obsessed, greedy politicians could frame me for treason against my country.

To be an Indian foriegn secretary had taken a better portion of my life.

I had to completely flip my attitude to pursue the sudden passion I had acquired, no more parties, late night rendezvous, lack of routine and so on. Basically every rule that I had lived by for the 21 years, before I decided I wanted to be this.

I had the brains but not the discipline yet I did it, I got my shit together, proved everyone around me wrong, and cleared the exam with flying colours.

After that it wasn't still all fun as I thought, once in the system, I realised the reality of it all. The stinky politics, the I got dick so I gotta be a dick attitude, and so on.

I mean I wasn't expecting it to be rainbow farts and unicorn shit but you would think it'll atleast be a little subtle, being a bureaucratic job and all. Nope!! Not a chance.

It was so glaring obvious that currently one of my lovely ministers were on a tour to Japan, to, guess what?!!

Exactly!!! Intimidate lil ol'me into resigning, else, he would frame me for conspiring against india. Blah blah blah.

Not while I still breathe.

He thinks I don't know his simpleton idea. (it'll make him choke to death to realised a woman has more brains than him.)

Like hellloooo.... my job profile need me to be at my sharpest quite unlike their's. I rolled my eyes so hard at the thought, surprised they aren't stuck in my head.

Hence, why i was stressing and burning a path into my office carpets. That guy is a snake and if I don't play my cards right he might as well finish me right now.

Goooood!!!!!! Couldn't I have people like getou, gojo, Nanami or toji around me.

Like... yummmmm... I mean to obviously support and help me, no other reason *wink wink*, ofcourse.

Just imagine... daddy fushi. Drooooool !!!!

Alas not everyone can have hot men fighting for or protecting us. The injustice I tell you. I thought with a tiny pout.

I had only just finished my tiny prayer to manifest so when I heard a light buzz behind my back and whizzed around.

What. I stepped back to create space between the body wall that had suddenly appeared and hit something- one else.

The. I spun around again to keep the 2 intruders in my line of sight.

Actual. And hit the 3rd.

Fuck. And 4th.

Holy moly!!!! My eyes were probably the size of saucers as I tried to decide if I had seriously lost the last few screws that I guaranteed I had.

There were currently 3 angels- anime characters- right in front of me, and I really, really hope the one missing here is behind me.

I whipped around to check and yes, he is. In all of his 6 feet plus glory. Gulp.

I raised my hand to pull at the lock of hair on his forehead to make sure this wasn't a dream.

Hey!! I ain't hurting me. I might be crazy but got limits too, Babe.

"Owee!! What was-"

That's the last last thing I heard before a "fuck me" left my lips and I blacked out.

OK... so no I actually did not faint. I have a meeting with the devil, can't really let my defences down even if the sexiest of men namely... wait for it OK.... The greatest ever.... SATORU GOJO, KENTO NANAMI, TOJI FUSHIGURU and SUGURU GETOU had suddenly apparated infront of me from thin air.

However, I did get extremely light headed and tripped on my feet. Although a pair of hands were holding me up before I could embarrass myself.

"Thank you" I said straightening myself and moving out of suguru's grip.

Really never thought I would do this, like move out of this beautiful specimen's arms. Kill me now. I hate being responsible.

"Any particular reason why 4 random men have just appeared out of thin air in my office at the most random and frankly inconvenient time" I continued with raised eyebrow and moved around.

Regain control!!! Regained control!!! Do not let yourself be seduced!!!

I walked out from the amongst them. The position making me feel extremely vulnerable due to sheer difference in height and stature between them and my 5'3", petite self.

Now I know.... I am not dumb but I can't just throw myself on the extremely trained, assassin level skilled people who literally have the worst trust issues ever. I'll probably be declared a crazy stalker bitch and dead meat even before I get a hand around them, especially with the stunt I just pulled.

"You pulled my hair. Why did you pull my hair?" Suguru asked with a little tilt to his head.

OH! MY!!! GOD!!!! AS ADORABLE AS A PUPPY!!! . I had stop my self from squishing his face, he looked so cute.

He followed my form as I sat behind my desk and motioned for them to take a seat on the 2 chairs in front as well as the couches placed on the right side area of the desk.

"She probably found it weird suguru" snickering the white haired baby, Satoru.

"I apologise, I wanted to make sure you were real. Now if you could all please answer my question" I said completely ignoring the menace.

I wasn't actually apologitic. Do you KNOW how soft it was.

"And you wouldn't pull your own? That's what people normally do, you know" satoru said.

"You really wanna talk about normal?" I questioned back, and motioned towards all of them and waving my hands around.

"Touché"

However my comment did make them glance at each other. There movements uncomfortable in there own way.

Toji was the first to release a long sigh, shrug and move towards the long couch. Sitting down with a manspread and head thrown back, like he really didn't care about the fact that he isn't a 2-D wetdream anymore but a real person. I knew from the show it wasn't so. He was as alert as a watch dog.

Suguru too gave a sigh of defeat, scanned the office like making sure nothing was about to pop up and attack or maybe just analysing. He seems like a person who would. Then his eyes met mine, gave that sweet smile which I had swooned over millions of times, and walked over to me with his hands in his pocket. He seemed awkward. No. Just unsure, I think. The smile was a facade to hide whatever he was feeling.

Satoru stood straighter, I thought he would fall back with how backward bent he was however he just walked towards me with a surprising grace for someone as tall as him. Swinging his arms around, his aura of confidence which had almost slipped at my comment, maintained. Seeing his body language I knew some weird comment was on its way. Probably to redunce anything I had noticed, if I had.

"You were about to faint because of how handsome I am, weren't you?" He came into my personal space and bent over me. His forefinger pulled his black glasses a little lower so he could hold me with his piercing eyes.

And held I was, no animation or device in the world could do his eyes justice. The blue in them was nothing an ordinary person could describe. It wasn't just a colour but a melange of different shades of blue that almost seemed...... alive.

The closeness, like i have never felt before made me panic and I blutered the first thing that came to my head "Are you an alien? You definitely seem like one."

"Huh-" there was a two second lag in Satoru as he tried to comprehend my question and suguru chuckled, hiding his face behind his hand to try and control it.

He had taken a seat on one of the chairs. Atleast someone was ready to have an adult conversation with me.

"An angel actually" satoru replied recovering but so had I and simply rolled my eyes at him.

I pushed his face away from mine and said "Sit the hell down. Just because I am not screaming and going crazy does not mean I am all normal here. I need answers, and want them as soon as possible."

"I am Nanami Kento, these are my colleagues gojo satoru and geto suguru. The one over there is Fushiguru Toji. I apologise for the sudden intrusion in your office....and your space" Nanami said the last part looking at satoru.

He had taken the other seat while satoru had been talking to me. Sitting with his arms crossed and back as straight as they come. His classic stoic expression was hawt.

Satoru rolled his eyes at Nanami like an insolent kid. I bit the inside of the cheek to control the smile that threatened to escape, seeing their antics in real life is definitely much more entertaining.

"Satoru sit. On the couch." Suguru rubbed his eyes when satoru moved to sit on the handle of my chair.

"We really don't have the energy right now." He was finally tired of his best friend's attitude.

Surprisingly toru actually listened and sat down on a single couch, beside the one which Toji had taken, his legs crossedamd head thrown back. He was a spliting image of one of the scenes from the show.

During this time, I noticed that they all seemed to belong to different eras of the anime. Not only that, there was a mix of all of there styles.

Toji looked like right before he died in season 2. With his compressed shirt and those lose pants. The creators really didn't do his boobies justice. The trust he had on that shirt is what I aspire to have in my relations.

Gojo when he was a teacher but with thise sexy rectangular shades. Kento, the sexy suit.

Suguru seemed like he was in jjk season 2, without his traditional monk clothes. His hair were shoulder length. Both him and satoru wore jjk uniforms for teachers, which were similar to the ones they had as students. The baggy pants and all.

Wanna guess what those hide ;"

"I am y/n. Officer in the Indian embassy here" I moved my hand towards kento first and then suguru. There hands were soft and warm, engulfing mine entirely. Of course they had to have the most beautifully crafted hands ever. I sent a silent prayer to thank for my skin tone which never reveals my blush.

I wasn't usually the one to be conscious about physical appearance but I gotta tell you my ego was taking continuous hits being in their presence.

"I don't know how to entirely explain what just happened. I think we aren't from here yet came here. Its all extremely absurb for us too.... obviously the transportation doesn't help either." began suguru. He kept pausing and looking at nanami and others as if answers would randomly appear.

Poor thing. I could probably solve half of his issues by telling him what I knew of them but looking at him so unsure was getting fun now.

"We Basically died and got reincarnated" Piped satoru, his hand over his eyes, glasses kept on the coffee table. Babe..what?!?!

"We need to know where we are and maybe then we will be in a better condition to link our circumstances." Nanami said trying to find a starting point of their story.

At this point I realised how truly stressed they all were. Even though they sat carelessly, a tightness in their body was visible. Their eyes shifting everywhere as if trying to find some clue to make sense of.

Nodding my head I switched on my laptop, which was kept in front of me on my desk and opened up chrome, typing up their anime I turned it towards them. I stood up a little to pass it.

"I think this will help you make a little more sense of the situation" I mumbled and pulled back my fingers, sitting back in my chair.

I forced myself to not bite my nails as I saw there face become more and more confused. The creases on there forehead increased. Suddenly a loud voice made me jump in my chair and I let out a squeak.

"What the actual fuck is this!?" That was nanami cursing. OH god! I can happily die now. Hearing this sophisticated creature curse in front me made all kinds of delirious before I shook it off.

Suguru turned towards me when he heard my voice and instantly asked nanami to control his temper. My sweet, sweet sugar.

I am going to assume he was talking to himself and avoid any communication till I absolutely had to.

The fact that Nanami cursed made toru and toji curious too, who quickly scrambled over.

The more they kept looking through the more I kept sinking into the chair, regretting this, I don't even know why though. I figured it was due to four steroid infused men who might be angry at me, in such close quaters.

Suguru had been continuously shifting his gazing between the screen, his mates and me. I really wonder what he was thinking.

Toji had been standing tall, next to nanami with his hands crossed and looking into the screen with a nonchalant attitude, we all know he was anything but. I was sure of it when I caught his side glance in my direction which almost felt like it was sizing me up.

Sir please.. my Size is fragile- handle-with-care.

Satoru was between nanami and suguru leaning all the way in, totally engrossed into the screen. He suddenly shouted pointing at the screen with one hand and shaking suguru like a toy with the other "Look suguru, they got the perfect click. oooh dayuumm babay.... I look so pretty."

Toji suddenly turned towards me fully and put his both hands down on the desk and leaned forward and in the the most intimidating tone said one word that had my blood freeze.

And rush into my nether regions.

Psycho woman.

"Explain"

The rest of them looked up me too. Toji continued to look at me like he couldn't decide if letting me answer was worth not killing me. I was after all their only hope, of sorts.

"I.. you.. I me.. ..an" I stammered. I knew they wouldn't actually kill me. I hope. Even then, with how rattled they seem I couldn't let my gaurd down. Toji was a wild card here. He did not have the same way of handling situations as the others did.

I knew that the other three wouldn't be able to stop him, if they wanted to, that is, and that 'if' was a huge one right now.

Suguru suddenly got up from his place and came towards me. I stood up and shifted to step away from the chair in a way that it created a shield between us, in case they all decided that they had no use for me anymore.

He put his hands up in a way of showing he meant no harm and walked closer in slow steps like approaching a scared animal.

I probably looked like one. I loved these fictional characters but exactly as that, I would be a fool to forget what they were trained as. killing machines. They had been so traumatised that distrust for a stranger was only natural.

Therefore, I wouldn't be off my gaurd either till I gained their trust. I made sure to keep an eye on all of them in which ever place I stood. Especially now that I could feel Toji's patience running thin.

"Guys relax. Y/n, could you please explain what's all this. It's been a rough couple of..... I don't even know how long. The fact that our entire lives are splayed across your screen Is really not looking very good. We just want to know why?" By the time suguru had finished, he was in my personal bubble. So close that I had to take a step back, and shift the chair again, to not break my neck looking up.

"Also if you got anymore of my perfect moments captured, I need them asap. The quality is like really good here." Of course the strongest sorcerer of all time had a different priority.

I took a deep breath and shifted I to my bureaucratic role. Fake it till you make it. Right? Squaring up my shoulders, I gave a tiny nod to suguru and turned towards the rest. Going with the easier question first.

"Yes. I got amazing pics of you, and the rest of you too. Not because I stalked you, well I do but not physically. You do realise that's impossible with the abilities you all possess, don't you?" My tone sassy with the last sentence.

Satoru actually hummed, with his face between his thumb and fore finger, in a thinking pose.

"In my world you all are actually characters of an anime called jujutsukaisen. Well, the charac- people in there have huge Fandoms because of your looks and strength and story. I just coincidentally happen to be one too." I finished and shrugged shoulders, absolutely covering my obsession with them like it was a teenage crush.

I raised my chin with an attitude of go fuck yourselves and took my place back on the chair. Suguru had moved to stand at the side of the desk. I was partially thankful because if anyone decide to jump me, I was running behind him like this chic on fire.

"If you wanna know all that I know, then I can just start the anime in here and open the link to Mangas." I said as an after thought.

"I want to apologise for my behavior earlier, it's not like me to curse. We would really appreciate it if you could show us whatever there is." Nanami said with a guilt and rubbed his tired face.

A genuine smiled spread on my face. "Don't worry, I know how you are and actually always wondered what you would seem like losing co- I mean angry." Quickly corecting myself I waved him off.

No need to sound perverted, because let's be honest I did mean it in a perverted way.

"Don't say it like that. You sound like you know everything about us when we don't know shit about you. It's weird" that was Toji with his impeccable manners.

I looked at him smiling and scratched the back of neck awkwardly, "Right.. My bad. I'll try and be mindful of it."

Suguru took his place back on the chair. "So we are .. like just characters here, Nothing else?" He seemed kinda disappointed.

"Sir please, dont insult yourselves like that." I said dramatically with a hand on my heart. "Wait till you see the obsession and love people have for you here. I am surprised there isn't a petition for jjk to be a religion yet." I giggling because like seriously!! Wait till they see the extend of it.

I prayed my theatrics would bring a smile to his face, it wasn't made to be disappointed and like hell would I ever let him or any of these people be any less than happy. Thankfully it worked and he gave a tiny smile.

"Anyway here is my phone with everything open and if you really wanna see the reality of your Fandom, I am sure you know how to use net." Passing the phone to them.

I suddenly realised it was about to be time for my personal favourite person to enter, Mr. Shah. Note the sarcasm.

Which meant I had to hide them before he saw all of this and added 'slut' to his list of adjectives for me.

"We need a bigger screen, can't expect us to see everything on this. Are you poor?" Satoru seemed genuinely aghast at the idea.

OK. Judgemental much, pretty boy.

"No i am not but that is the only device I can spare for public use right now." I said sharply and continued. "Actually its perfect, you cannot watch it here, right away in any case. Remember how I said this is a very inconvenient time, although my literal fantasy was coming true." I motioned towards them and satoru smirked.

"I have a meeting with a snake, and I can't have you lot loitering around." I continued before he could make a remark.

"Snake like a literal or figuratively?" Now you would think that this was something Satoru would ask but it wasn't. Personally, I never thought I would have to clarify something like that.

"I mean it figuratively but once you see him you'll be amazed how much closer he is to the literal sense. So as I was saying, I'll have to lock you guys in the washroom" I answered after waiting a beat to see if Toji was serious or just pulling my leg. He Stood straight, with his hands crossed and those buldging biceps. Squish my head and call me orange juice.

Wait....My god he was serious about the question. What kind of deals HAS he gone through.

Add to the THINGS TO ASK.

"With these idiots- You cannot hide my pretty face like that!" Nanami and suguru didn't really say anything. They sat on the chairs mostly observing and listening. I looked at them and gave a helpless smile with I-seriously-got-no-other-option shrug. They glanced at the other and then relaxed a little. I was gonna assume they said-

"very well."

OH they actually did. Thank god atleast half the population had some brains.

Ring.ring.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!!!

9 notes · View notes

halfetirosie · 5 months ago

Text

✩‧₊˚ Let's Get Confused!!! :D ✩‧₊˚

(Star Message 01 - 05 React-os!)

1) Wait, so you're telling me that Blade's storytelling put kids to sleep???

That's quite odd!

I mean, yeah, a lot of what he was saying was confusing the kids. But I would think that, with how animated Blade was being, it would still be entertaining enough to keep them awake. 🤷‍♀️

It's funny how polite Olivine is being about it---spinning it into a positive outcome. Bless your little heart!

2) Uh-oh! My workaholic wife is back at it again! 😂

My mans really does overwork himself...

If I were the Captain, I would've forced a ton of vacations onto him, too! :D

I personally can't really relate to this side of Edmond's personality---the obsession with his work. I'm the kind of person that has had to do way more work than I was comfortable doing in the past, to the point that my personal life was non-existent, but as soon as it wasn't necessary to have such a large workload I didn't push myself to keep up that insane schedule.

Edmond, on the other hand, has just gotten so used to constantly working, that at this point it's difficult to stop...

Maybe it's because he had that sort of schedule for even long than I ever did, since he's a noble? That, combined with his natural integrity/work ethic?

3) Eiden out here validating the fans' comments about the space-appropriateness of their clothes---

---and Blade giving a very reasonable explanation---

I like to think the the tailor also has a devious mind, determined to bring out the maximum sexy-potential of each project they receive (even if their "added elements" will require them to do an additional wardrobe-change later)!

It's also very possible that Eiden's collaborations with them have tainted their formerly-innocent tastes...

😈😈😈😈😈

4) Edmond, sweetie---no offense, but HOW is this any more scandalous than your usual outfits??? 🤨

Is it because your stomach is showing?---No, that can't be it, because the ceremonial clothes in his Knightly Night SSR show his stomach.

Is it because your shoulders are bare?---No, because the shirt in the prison guard outfit of Vigilant Observer is sleeveless...But then again, perhaps the guards are expected to keep that jacket/overshirt on over the sleeveless shirt, so maybe that really is the reason???

I AM CONFUSION!!!

EDMOND, PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT YOU CONSIDER "MODEST!"

It is quite nice seeing Blade and Eiden being so supportive to Edmond, tho.

They see him feeling a little uncomfortable, and Blade immediately reassures him [of the clothes' utility] while Eiden hypes him up. It's so sweet!!!

5) Blade and his not-at-all worrying ideas °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Can I just say---I LOVE the fact that Edmond takes Blade's question seriously.

I (along with many other fans) see Blade as strong representation for neuro-divergent individuals; and IRL, many such people act "eccentric" or ask questions that people think are "silly/weird."

So, Edmond taking Blade seriously---just like he treats everything/everyone seriously---without getting angry or annoyed is such a delight! We love to see it!

6) I love it when Blade hops into Robo Mode at the most unexpected times!

It's funnier when the situation is less serious than this, but hey, I still enjoyed it!

Also, the voice-acting bit during this part was fantastic. Blade's voice sounds so cool!

7) Blade, honey---are you telling me you can catch a FUCKIN METEOR all by yourself????

BRUH.

I knew he was built to be a hella-strong sorcerer-murderer robot, but putting his strength in the context of earth-science terms makes it even more insane.

8) It's quite impressive how nonchalant blade is being about all of this... (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

Like, he and Edmond just stopped a FUCKIN METEOR from crashing into the tower and killing people, and he's over here cracking little jokes!

What a legend!

9) So, as soon as I saw this---

---for some reason, I immediately thought of this;

Which is a fine and dandy meme, but I'd say that Blade is completely justified in his assumption that the thingy from the sky is alien tech; it isn't a crackpot theory, an thus, I wouldn't say this meme is completely applicable... But maybe I'm just being too picky with my meme-etiquette. :D

10) Wait, so this isn't even the first time that "starscape creatures" have sent a message to Klein?

🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

But from what I've gathered so far, the message is just supposed to be a sort of audio message---so how does he know about what kind of environment the starscape creatures live in???

Does the audio talk about where they live??? Do they speak the same language as they do in Klein, or is it somehow possible to interpret the alien language when given no context/prior exposure to that language????

11) Rei, no offense, but you kinda suck at explaining things....

Seriously.

WAT? ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ?

Am I just stupid, or did Rei just say the same thing twice but in different ways?

I can't be the only on that doesn't get it, right?

Would this make more sense if I knew more about audio transfer, or like, how radio works???

12) *Voice dripping with sarcasm:*

Oh boy, how reassuring! 😂😂😂

I know for a fact Rei is perfectly capable of making people feel better, but I guess he ain't feeling very charitable right now! (Which, I would think he would be, since they brought him an interesting new thing to research...)

★ End of report! ★

#nu carnival #nu: carnival #nu carnival event reactions #nu carnival eiden #nu carnival edmond #nu carnival olivine #nu carnival blade #nu carnival rei

13 notes · View notes

sanjoongie · 2 years ago

Text

Dinner and a Tale

ღPairing: Director! Park Seonghwa x Professor of Dreams! Reader (f) ღGenre: enemies to lovers au, Modern Wizardry School au ღWord Count: 4,274 ღWarnings: mentions of fighting, war, blood, death, penetrative sex, more sex with magic, nipple play, restraints, finger sucking ღRated: 18+ MDNI, smut with hella plot now ღSummary: Seonghwa finally reveals to you exactly how he got his scar...but that's not the only motive he has. And of course, your old captain, Hongjoong, hadn't gone anywhere either... ღDedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland, my lovely beta's ღPrevious Part| ღMini Masterlist | ღNext Part

Your eyes took in Seonghwa’s rooms and it was like you couldn't get enough of everything. The way the ceiling was that of the night sky. The way his elegant aura exuded from his furniture and decorative features. You had zero doubt that these were Seonghwa’s rooms.

Seonghwa shrugged off his jacket, and with a flick of his hand and a murmur of what you believe is Japanese, phantom hands took it and handed it up onto the clawfoot hanger. "What do you want? There's a few dishes I can do for you."

You turned around and your eyes widened at the phantom hands. "Your demons are going to make dinner?"

Seonghwa puffed out quiet laughter. "Of course. Did you expect me to get my hands dirty?"

You rolled your eyes and sigh. "I suppose you're right."

"Besides, I've got another job, right? I've got to tell you about my past." Seonghwa settled on the settee in his room and patted the cushion. "Come here, lover."

You sat primly on the cushion beside him but Seonghwa was not satisfied with that. He tugged you closer, tucking you under his arm. "There. Much better."

You struggled a bit to put some room in between you but Seonghwa’s grip was iron. "I do NOT have to be this close for you to tell me the story!"

"You're my emotional support witch. Now stop wriggling or I'll get other ideas." You froze and Seonghwa laughed again. "You really are my favorite."

"I'll have chicken," You grumbled.

"Hmmm? What's that, darling?" Seonghwa said in a sing-song voice. His lips puffed hot air onto the crown of your head.

"You asked what I wanted. Wooyoung screwed up my chicken order. So I'll have chicken."

"Wonderful. We'll have roast pheasant then. The grounds keeper flushed some out in the forest the other day. With some wild mushroom bread pudding, we'll be set. Now, lay your head on my lap. I can focus on my words easier with you like that."

How he went from host of a dinner party speaking of food and pairings and then suddenly to convincing you to let him pet you while he spoke, was beyond you, but it happened nonetheless. It was clear Seonghwa had a story to tell, or there wouldn't be a legend made up about him.

"This food better be good because the story portion of this promise slash apology is sorely lacking."

"Oh don't worry! You'll recognize some characters."

Seonghwa wasn't the only legend you knew. Hongjoong was the only wizard that had survived an encounter with Seonghwa. They were both renowned.

"The first battle I stumbled into was horrifying. I heard screaming and yelling and pain and it took everything in me not to shout and run away myself. But I was firm in my belief that we deserved equal rights. So, I pushed on. Eventually I was numb from all the death around me. I was killing people with my demons and it made me feel empty inside. It came to a point where I didn’t even feel like I was living.”

You attempted to push upwards to look at Seonghwa but he firmly held you down, fingers carding through your hair. “Please,” He begged quietly, “I don’t want to see the pity in your eyes.”

“Seonghwa…” You sighed but let him keep you on his lap.

“There was one prick of hot anger within me, however, and that was the annoying White Magic User Captain that kept eluding me. He was sneaky; always in and out of his missions. I could never catch him and therefore never kill him. My higher ups knew they could count on sending me to battle and killing whoever needed to be killed, be it one person or many. But this was the one thorn in our side that could not be pulled.”

You couldn't help but feel stiff in your spot now. You knew how successful Hongjoong had been during that campaign. You had helped him strategize and plan and was the one he fell into bed with after those successful missions. You couldn't help but somehow feel like you were a part of Seonghwa’s story, inadvertently.

“Out of sheer desperation, I left an innocent bunny demon in the tent of my Captain, knowing she was going to be a target. She had pulled off a victorious maneuver on our part and had wiped out a battalion of white magic users. We celebrated that night but I knew the other side would get their revenge. My demon was able to catch Hongjoong as he snuck into my drunk Captain’s but I was not able to save her. I barely followed him into the surrounding forest, until he suddenly stopped.”

Your heart was racing along with this story. What night had this been? Had you been dreaming, performing missions, while Hongjoong and Seonghwa fought? It almost made you sick to your stomach. It didn’t seem right.

“He said to me ‘Finally, I get to kill the Reaper’ and just like that he slashed out at me. It was a fight, and I didn't really wanna admit it, but he was my equal in battle. He had the same fervor and boldness. He dodged all my demons, and still had the energy to slash me down when my own energy was depleted. I should have died that night. Luckily, they found my demon rabbit in my dead Captain’s tent and followed it back to me. A blood magic user saved my life. I owed him an incredible debt."

"I'm sorry Hwa," You said, tears streaming down your face. You had never heard of the war from a black magic user's side before. They had simply been the enemy.

Seonghwa patted your shoulder and allowed you to sit up. "Are those tears for me, my little white magic user?" Seonghwa smiled, putting a fingertip to your cheekbone and catching a tear as it ran down your face. He lifted his finger to his lips and sucked. "Your sadness tastes lovely, if you're wondering."

You shook your head. Seonghwa never missed an opportunity to flirt. "Can we eat now?"

"Of course. It's just finishing up." Seonghwa stood up and offered his arm to you. You didn't remember the last time, if any, someone escorted you to your table. You took it, but the realization dawned on you: you really didn't hate Seonghwa anymore. And that could only mean…

You sat at the table with a rather stunned expression. There was no way. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again. Your internal spiral began as the phantom hands began to serve the dishes.

The pheasant roast and wild mushroom pudding was to die for, you had to admit. Seonghwa ate with delicate bites, while you who were starving, ate like a starved dog. Seonghwa laughed at your enthusiasm and you couldn't help but feel a tidbit embarrassed.

When you both finished eating, you dabbed your lips with a handkerchief. "Thank you Director Park. That was extremely enjoyable."

Seognhwa sighed. "Now what have I done to earn Director Park?"

"Nothing," You sighed. What the hell were you doing? Seonghwa didn't deserve this, as confused and scared as you were.

Seonghwa moved on, however, as you internally fought with yourself. He put out his hand, as if asking for yours to bow over. You gave it to him, muscle memory from pleasantries overriding instinct and reason. "It was my pleasure, Mistress Dreams."

You should have realized when Seonghwa was playing along with your distancing, that something was wrong. But it was too late. After Seonghwa bent over your hand, gripping it softly, kissed your palm and then yanked you over the dinner table until your hips hit the edge of the table.

"Can I fuck you in a bed tonight?" He whispered into the shell of your ear.

"Seonghwa!" You admonished him, pulling back but alas, he wouldn't let go of your hand.

"Let me make love to you in my room, please?" His eyebrows furrowed in a plea. It seemed like the revealing of his past had made him more vulnerable than he usually allowed himself to be. "I've wanted it since you started here. I've been tortured with dreams of it. Pushing you on to my bed, sinking into you, making you cry out my name, and then waking up with you."

You tried to wrestle your hand from him again but he wouldn't let you go. "Director Park, let go of me."

Seonghwa laughed under his breath. "You can't pull that on me a third time tonight, lover. I've heard you whine my name too many times. Besides, I don't deserve it. This time."

"Do you think that fucking me in your luxurious bed is going to make up for the fact that you almost tore my throat out today?" You demanded incredulously.

"I could never truly hurt you," Seonghwa admitted, looking up at you from under his brow and then focusing on your hand, curling his finger around your wrist. He yanked you, pulling you over the table and closer to him again. "Let me make love to that sweet body of yours tonight as both an apology and a thank you."

You sent him a look of confusion. "A thank you?"

"For setting aside your differences for black magic users and picking me over him, tonight," Seonghwa pursed his lips to the side, almost cutely.

"You don't have to thank me for that. I told you. That was over a long time ago. And Hongjoong was in the wrong tonight. There's no reason to be suspicious of you. I should know, I have been sleeping with you," You said in a low tone.

Seonghwa's eyes lowered to your lips. "Then let me apologize for making your underwear wet when I pushed you against the gate."

"Seonghwa!" You said his name with a growl.

Seonghwa smirked. "There's my darling little White Magic User."

"Is this your plan? To get me angry?" You demanded.

"Let me taste your anger tonight, lover?" Seonghwa asked and then pushed his lips against yours. His tongue came out slyly, asking for entrance and you let him. He moaned as he ran his tongue on the roof of your mouth and then backed up. "Not on the table. On the bed!"

A brief image of you laying against the table's edge, ass at perfect height, cheek against the dark cherry wood. "Why not?"

Seonghwa chuckled. "Already dumb thinking about me fucking you?"

"Fine!" You shouted at him, stomping over to the only other door in the room. "In the bed. I'm not dumb."

Seonghwa sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "No, just stupid."

"You know," Your spine is straightened at the insult, "Dinner was great. Thank you for your demon food. I'm going to bed now."

You got about a few strides towards the door to exit when Seonghwa said, "You didn't ask me what you're stupid about."

"I'm stupid for letting you fuck me once I started this job," You responded tonelessly.

"No, darling, no," Seonghwa shook his head, a thoughtful smile curling his lips. "You're stupid for thinking that this was casual."

Your nails dug into your palms as your fingers curled into fists. "The fuck it isn't casual."

Seonghwa took slow strides across the room, hands tucked into his pants side pockets. "You're the one that insisted we forget all about it. You're the one that wanted to sneak around and not let anyone know. You're the one that kept insisting that this was just convenient and didn't mean anything. I never said anything like that."

"And that's how it's going to remain!" You yelled. Then you rubbed an eyebrow aggressively in frustration. "There, is that enough angry foreplay for you? I'll be seething all--"

Seonghwa scooped you in his arms and brought you into his bedroom. It was gorgeous and immaculate but you don't get a chance to do any sight seeing. Seonghwa dumped you onto the mattress, and you landed with an oof. He waved his hands but he's not touching you, no, his phantom hands are unbuttoning your blouse and pulling up your skirt. You slapped at the hands but Seonghwa simply created more, with the purpose of pushing you down onto your back and pining your hands above your head.

"Let me take care of you, lover. I can give you untold pleasure. I can be everything you need. You'll never need anyone else." Seonghwa cooed. He moved to the side of the bed, knocking your knees apart once his phantom hands had pushed your skirt to your hips.

"Seonghwa--!!!" Your back arched suddenly as two hands pinched your nipples through your silk camisole under your blouse. "Call them off, you asshole!"

"Oh, I've been downgraded to asshole, how wonderful," Seonghwa mused. He removed the glove he had on his right hand. "Shall I take you from behind, like you prefer?" Seonghwa curved his hands behind your knees and pushed your legs upwards until you were bent in half and your knees were above your waist. "Or shall I sink into your wetness like this? Eye to eye."

"Seonghwa, it's not supposed to be like this," You insisted.

“Says you,” Seonghwa drawled, “I prefer this.”

His eyes took in how disheveled you looked, your nipples cute and perky from his phantom hands playing with you. Another set pulls and tugs at your underwear until your cunt is on view and it’s gleaming with wetness. “Look at how good you are for me. So wet and inviting. It’s almost as if you wanted this just as much as I do.”

There is simply no denying that this situation was beyond turning you on, and in this moment, you feared for your heart. Seonghwa was purring in your ear, so to speak, seducing you like he’s always known how to do, but it’s that tint of heart that keeps leaking out that terrifies you so. “I don’t want this to be more,” You blurted out suddenly.

Seonghwa smiled patiently. “More what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” You accused him.

Seonghwa quickly licked your ankle, moaning quietly when he tasted your anger. “I want to hear you say it.”

The pair of phantom hands that had pulled your underwear to the side pulled your lower lips open as well. All Seonghwa had to do was pull out his cock and sink into you. Your body was completely open to him…but your heart was not.

“You can play with my body all you want,” You raised your chin stubbornly, “But you’re not getting my heart.”

Seonghwa smiled, close-lipped but satisfied, “So it’s a challenge then, is it?”

That sentence sent a shiver down your spine. “No! No, Seonghwa, that’s not a challenge!”

At last, Seonghwa finally undid the ties to his pants and pulled himself from the confines, heavy cock gently slapping his stomach. You couldn’t help but smack your lips together, well aware of how heavy Seonghwa’s cock could be against your tongue. Seonghwa laughed at your reaction. “You can’t very well have me both ways, lover.”

Your pout didn’t last for long because a phantom hand found your mouth and settled your oral fixation. Two fingers pressed down on your tongue and you sucked them eagerly. Seonghwa then pushed into you, slow and easy, hands holding your legs just under your knees as he filled you.

“You’re practically bent in half for me,” Seonghwa murmured, eyes hooded while looking down at you. “Taking my cock like it’s made a new home inside of you.”

You were effectively gagged so there was really nothing to do but take everything Seonghwa was giving you. The phantom hands still pinned your arms above your head and were still playing with your breasts, petting your underboob because your nipples were almost too sensitive now after all that play. The one in your mouth continued to make your moans muffled as Seonghwa bottomed out inside of you.

“Fuck, every damn time,” Seonghwa cursed, his eyes fluttering to roll into the back of his head. “I swear to god, I cannot get enough of you.”

You murmured around the phantom fingers, unable to focus on one thing. You were being stimulated in so many ways, it really was making you dumb. Still, Seonghwa rambled, sounding a bit pussy drunk if you were being honest.

“I’ll figure you out, my sweet little dream witch,” He groaned, thrusting slowly inside of you, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in. “I’ll find the crack in your facade and I’ll widen it until you let me in.”

Your moans grew louder and finally the phantom hand in your mouth disappeared. “Don’t Seonghwa!” You begged.

"I'm gonna make you mine, lover," Seonghwa promised. He bit down on his lower lip, taking his sweet time making love to your body.

The phantom hands released your wrists and you immediately used your freedom to drag Seonghwa down to you, hands behind his neck. Seonghwa had to let go of your legs and braced himself with his arms so he wouldn't crush you. "Stop," You begged again.

"You sure you want me to stop fucking you when clearly you're feeling so good?" Seonghwa smiled cheekily. "You look good too. So flushed and messy, just for me."

"Seonghwa," You said his name in warning, "I swore I'd never fall in love again."

For a moment, Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed in anger. You saw his jaw tighten and his upper lip pulled into a sneer before he smoothed it all out. "Is it because of him?"

You sighed. Like you needed to give Seonghwa a reason to dislike Hongjoong anymore. "Hwa."

His eyes softened at the shortening of his name. "Yes, lover?"

“Let’s come, okay?” You beseeched him, “Can’t we just focus on the now?”

Seonghwa’s arms bent so that his forearms were braced against his bed now. He was so fucking close to your face that there was no avoiding him now. All the phantom hands are gone now. His eyes traveled over your face but you didn't dare break his gaze. “Okay, darling, we can come.”

Seonghwa began to move his hips again, his pelvis grinding into your clit, that you couldn’t help but let out another pitiful cry with the stimulation. Your pussy and clit were so swollen from everything that even the smallest movement gives you pleasure. Seonghwa slanted his mouth over yours, almost as if he wanted to consume all the noises of pleasure you were letting out. His tongue lazily played with yours but it was simply his goal to enhance your pleasure at this point.

"Come undone for me, lover," Seonghwa rubbed his lips against yours, "Show me how much power I still have over you. Your body is mine; it only listens to me. No one else can make you feel this way. Just me."

"Hhnnnnnn, Seonghwa!" You feel your pleasure build and you want nothing more than to climax and find that blessed release that is sleep after.

"Come on, little dream witch, come before I do, I don't know how much longer I can hold back before--!" Seonghwa let out a garbled yell as your climax hit you and took him with you.

Your body shook and your nerves lit up and you saw fireworks behind your eyelids. You were panting because the orgasm took that much out of you although all you did was lie there and beg and let Seonghwa fuck you. Seonghwa's climax had his back arched and his head thrown back. He was making low groans and you want to bite his neck, it looks so glorious. But you can already hear his teasing "Wanna mark me up, lover? What will the other teachers think, hmmm?" so you halt yourself from doing so.

Once the pleasure was out of the way, you felt awkward with Seonghwa still inside of you. It was a first and you know it was because of Seonghwa's less than subtle hints about his intentions with you. You just thought the headmaster had a damn breeding kink, you didn't think he actually wanted a family… with you?

"I…should go," You said hesitantly.

Seonghwa opened his eyes and stared at you, calculating something in his head.

“If you stay, I won’t figure out how to kill your captain tomorrow.”

“Seonghwa, please, how many times do I have to beg tonight? You’re not listening to me!”

“Stay the night. Let me have this. And I won’t kill Hongjoong for breaking your heart.”

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”

“That’s okay,” Seonghwa kissed the crown of your head, “I love the taste of your anger.”

🪶✨️🪶✨️

"So, is this the announcement where Seonghwa says he's disappointed his students haven't attempted to turn each other into squirrels yet this semester or?" You drawled to Mingi the next morning.

The entire school, students and staff, were to report to the Theatron for an important announcement from the Director.

Mingi laughed beside you. "I think, if he really wants to piss off the General, he might bring up the attempted demon summoning on the first day of school."

You laughed and then sighed. You wished you could smack your old self and tell you that one night stand should remain a one night stand. "I guess we'll--"

Your words were suddenly cut off as you saw someone else from your past at the school you worked at. “CHOI JONGHO?!”

You screamed the name of the dark haired man who you had been in the army with and ran to hug him, stopping only short of doing so, because Jongho was an empath; he could feel your emotions and thoughts through touch. “What are you doing here, Sprout?”

Jongho laughed in embarrassment. “No one has called me that in ages, Lieutenant.”

You couldn't contain the grin on your face. Jongho had been Hongjoong’s aid during the war. Jongho was indispensable with being able to sense a truth or a lie while Hongjoong interrogated prisoners, or, to simply be able to pick up on Hongjoong’s moods or needs, and help him in whatever capacity he could.

“Guess I’ll stop calling you Sprout when you stop calling me Lieutenant, Jongho. I’m not in the army anymore,” You said bitter-sweetly.

Jongho shook his head, “You’ll always be my Lieutenant to me.”

“Oh Jongho,” You ruffled his hair affectionately, “What are you doing here anyways? Do you always come with Hongjoong when he does his school trips?”

Jongho got somber. “That’s not for me to say,” He said, shaking his head.

You cocked your head in curiosity, “Well, that only makes me wanna know more.”

Jongho smiled tightly. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Unfortunately for you, Hongjoong and Seonghwa spotted you at the same time as when you and Jongho approached the side of the stage where the faculty would sit while Seonghwa addressed the students, Mingi having been left behind and decided to chat up another professor. Both strode towards you with purpose and then exchanged unamused glances when they realized once again they were in competition for your attention.

“Lieutenant,” Hongjoong nodded formally to you, “I see you caught up with Sprout.”

Jongho made a pained face again. “Not you too, General.”

“I would have thought that Jongho would have moved up in rank by now,” You said, slightly perplexed.

“I have!” Jongho protested. He adjusted the pin over his heart. “I just decided to remain at Hongjoong’s side. There’s still work to be done.”

“What are you up to today, Kim Hongjoong?” You demanded, wanting to know the secret that Jongho was keeping for your Captain.

Seonghwa sent Hongjoong a calculating look. “You’re up to something today?”

“I have an important announcement to make,” Hongjoong revealed.

Seonghwa frowned heavily. “And you didn’t think that it was imperative to tell the Director of the School that you’re about to make this announcement beforehand?”

Hongjoong shook his head, “This should only be said once.”

Seonghwa drew himself up to his full height and authority. “You will tell me right now. This is my school.”

Hongjoong sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “I suppose I owe you that.”

Jongho frowned himself, squaring up, and looking like he was about to fight Seonghwa himself. “General, you don’t have to--”

Hongjoong put up a hand, halting Jongho’s protests. “It’s fine, Jongho.” He made direct eye contact with Seonghwa. “The Council has decided that I will be making a permanent residence here. They want me to begin teaching the students combat and strategy.”

Within seconds, Seonghwa had Hongjoong pushed up against a wall, forearm braced against Hongjoong’s windpipe. “You will not be teaching my students how to fight each other!”

Hongjoong let out a choked laugh. “They won’t be fighting each other.”

Before you realized what was happening, your body was in between the two of them. “Gentlemen, please! The students could be seeing this.”

Seonghwa let Hongjoong go, albeit a bit reluctantly. Anger radiated off of him, even you could feel that. “Why was I not informed?”

Hongjoong cleared his throat. “Well, I was going to tell you last night, but a demon at your door advised me you were predisposed.” Hongjoong’s eyes swung to you, “And you didn’t answer your door when I knocked.”

“That’s not important right now,” You deflected, “Why does the council want you to do that?”

Hongjoong breathed in deeply and then let it out. You had seen that look before… It was when he was about to tell you something important. “The Technomancers are coming.” ღPrevious Part| ღMini Masterlist | ღNext Part

Tagging: @hijirikaww @toxicccred @starillusion13 @flurrys-creativity @stardragongalaxy @a-soft-hornytiny @babiestarrcandy

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #thekpopuniverse #cultofdionysusnet #ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #atz smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa x reader #topaz's work #ღatz #twilight academy #this was a lot more wordy than i meant to #looks like these are gonna be long as chapters because i've got a lot to develop #whew baby doll

136 notes · View notes

nogenderbee · 2 years ago

Note

TYSM<333 Ok- so like obey me boys(everyone but if you don't want to I'm thinking Levi, Satan, Solomon, Beel and Belphie) x reader who's a witch? Like practices divination, tarot, spells, maybe deity work? I'm a witch myself and I practice most of these things. (If u need any help can can totally help u with like practices, and other things witches practice)

Thank u<33

~Indigo🎠

Oh my yes! All Obey Me squad was a little too much so I picked your preferred team! To be honest I was interested in witchcraft some time ago but then gave up, although I still do tarot! So I hope I won't get much things wrong and that you enjoy <3

Levi, Satan, Beel, Belphie, Solomon with witch!reader

SPOILERS: for lessons 16 not sure if it's this lesson tho- for Belphie

⊱ oh? So you're a witch? Huh, maybe that's how he will get second elder give him his money back...

⊱ those are first thoughts Levi had when he discovered that you're a witch, second thoughts were like "alright, definitely not pissing them off and not going out of my room untill exchange program is over" do I really need to mention he HAD to get out at some point?

⊱ at first he's very distant from you, not only he's scared of socializing but he's also not good at it, so he doesn't want to accidentally piss you off and experience witch's wrath

⊱ although as the time pass and both of you warm up to each other, he starts seeing you as character from that one anime with way too long name where main character was a witch!

⊱ whenever you practice any witchcraft while he's around, he'll get excited saying how he saw the exact same or similiar enough spell in anime

"OMG!! You're just like the main character from [insert way too long anime name] while they were casting spell to kill the final boss blocking their way!"

⊱ he's too scared to help you with anything though... so I'm afraid you'd have to ask one of his other brothers

⊱ Satan definitely figured out by himself that you're a witch, be it because of reek of magic or maybe cards he saw peeking out of your bag

⊱ definitely knows some spells that you don't and uses it asking you for many favors which depend on your relationship

⊱ he'll either ask you to pull a prank on his eldest brother or something like that or will tease you asking for passionate kiss if you're together

⊱ if you ever want to practice something, he's always up for that since he knows a lot and he probably will be very helpful for you

⊱ but don't expect him to hold back any criticism, although he's not completely mean either, he'll just say his honest opinion and then tell you better way to do it

"You're really casting it like that? Sure it is good if you want to risk your life. Before you do all of that you should..."

⊱ definitely asks you for tarot reading before pulling a prank on Lucifer and depending on the result, he'll either do it himself or make someone else do it for him

⊱ don't worry tho, he won't use you, he might not be scared of you but he still doesn't want a witch to be mad at him

⊱ Beel is probably the only one who doesn't care if you're a witch or not

⊱ like... it's nice that you know magic so well and you're interested in it because he's really supportive of it but he doesn't see why he should see you in other way

⊱ as a demon, he met witches (maybe not much, but he did) and mostly didn't had anything against them

⊱ if you ask him tho, he'd gladly help you with whatever you might need, just expect he'll be snacking a bit while doing it

⊱ but if you specifically told him not to eat while helping you with anything you might've wanted, then he'll try his best to not do it but expect him to not last long

"YN... we have been doing it for a while now... can I just get myself one small snack?"

⊱ if it happens that he knows a spell or anything that you don't, then he'll even offer himself to help you with it

⊱ I LOVE BEEL, HE SO TEDDYBEAR

⊱ definitely gets you any resources you can't necessarily get yourself

⊱ Belphie knew you're not a normal human the first time you entered the attic

⊱ I mean... demons can tell if someone or something is magical or not, so it's not a surprise that he could tell that you have much to do with magic

⊱ and so when he finally discovered that you're a witch, he kind of started to consider if you're not gonna turn him into a frog after killing you like some witches would

⊱ but once your relationship gets better, he becomes really supportive of all of this

⊱ he knows a bit of spells so he'd be glad to help you with some if you'd ever need any help

⊱ he's probably also interested in tarot reading or divination, so you can give him reading for practice with sure that he won't make fun of you because he'll fall asleep faster

"Don't worry, everyone needs practice... I can asleep while you're doing the reading tho, right?"

⊱ to be honest, he's probably a little scared to fall asleep around you tho, especially first few days after killing you

⊱ likes to scare second elder with "be careful or they'll turn you into a frog!", his reactions are just always extremely funny

⊱ Solomon was already interested in getting to know you since the two of you were only humans on Devildom but when he discovered that you're also interested in magic, he become interested in you even more

⊱ he definitely would love to exchange spells, potion recipes and much more with you

⊱ everyone is afraid of you to be honest

⊱ like when you're together, there's high chance you'll end up experimenting with magic and all

⊱ you literally don't even know how many times the two of you failed at casting spell because of distraction that none of you expected (if you're experience tho, fault is probably at his side to be honest)

"Oh, another failed experiment... but I think we're getting closer and closer to discovering our first goal."

⊱ definitely keeps contact with you even after exchange program

⊱ so after your year ends, everyone is relieved because Devildom is not in danger anymore but now human realm is

⊱ you guys would be chaotic duo, I know it

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

84 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

Text

The Lost Cause prologue, Part V

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

In my upcoming solarpunk novel The Lost Cause (Nov 14), we get an epic struggle between the people doing the repair and care work needed to save our planet and species, and the reactionary wreckers who want to kill the Green New Deal and watch the world burn:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues

Amazon refuses to carry my audiobooks, which means that I make my own indie editions and pre-sell them on Kickstarter, along with ebooks and hardcovers. I narrated this one! It came out great! You can back it here:

http://lost-cause.org

This week, I've been serializing the prologue to give you a taste of what you can expect from the book, which Bill McKibben calls "politically perceptive, scientifically sound, and extraordinarily hopeful."

Here's part one:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/06/green-new-deal-fic/#the-first-generation-in-a-century-not-to-fear-the-future

And part two:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/07/met-cute-ugly/#part-ii

And part three:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/09/working-the-refs/#lost-cause-prologue

And part four:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/10/weaponized-interdependence/#super-soaker-full-of-hydrochloric-acid

And now, part five:

Look, I had weeks to go until graduation. I had a life to live. I had stuff to do.

Gramps and his friends would stew and shout. Idiots on the internet would make dank memes out of Mike Kennedy and deepfake him into a million videos, turn him into a main character whose image would be around long after he left the world.

I just had to keep my head down, collect my diploma, and get the hell out of Burbank. I’d already been provisionally accepted for a Blue Helmets AmeriCorps spot down in San Juan Capistrano, helping to rebuild the city’s lower half a mile inland, up in the hills. I was going to do a year of that and then go to college: I had applications in to UCLA, Portland State (they had a really good refugee tech undergrad program), and the University of Waterloo, where my mom did her undergrad in environmental science. They’d let me declare my major in my second year, so I could take a wide variety of courses before settling on something, and if anything, Canada’s free college was even more generous than the UC system or Portland’s, with a subsidy for dorms and meals.

To tell the truth, I’d be glad to go. My senior year hadn’t been anything like I’d anticipated. Gramps’s health had gotten a lot worse the previous summer and his shitty sexist and racist remarks chased away any home help worker Burbank sent over within a week or two, so I’d been trying to keep my grades up while picking up after Gramps, getting him to take his meds, washing his sheets and cleaning his toilet—not to mention making sure he made his doctor’s appointments and even bringing him into the office a couple of times a month for the kind of exams you couldn’t do by telemedicine.

I wasn’t sure what Gramps would do without me to take care of him, but at that point, I was running out of fucks to give. Let his asshole Maga Club buddies look after him, or maybe Gramps could figure out how not to offend everyone that came over to wipe his ass and do his laundry. He was—as he was fond of pointing out to me—a grown-ass adult, and this was his house, and he was in charge. So let him be in charge.

I put myself to bed stewing about all of this, thinking of San Juan Capistrano. Some of my older friends had graduated the previous years and had gone down there and I’d followed their relocation of the old mission on their feeds. It looked like hot, sweaty, rewarding work, the kind of thing where you could really measure your progress.

For the second night in a row, I was woken up at 2 a.m. This time, it wasn’t my screen, it was Gramps, who’d stumped into my room with his cane, flipped my lights to full on, and started shaking me and calling out, “Get up, kid, get up!”

“I’m up,” I said, getting up on my elbows and squinting at him.

He was shaking, and he reeked—of both booze and BO, and I felt a flash of guilt for not getting him in the bath that day.

“God dammit,” he said, and staggered a bit. I leapt out of bed, pulling the sheets off with me, and steadied him at the elbow.

“Calm down, okay? What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right. No one is all right. Fuck all right and fuck you.” I’d had Gramps tested for early dementia the previous year, by showing his doctor videos of moments like these. The doc had run a battery of tests before pronouncing, “Your grandfather isn’t senile, he’s just ornery.” Which was undeniable, and also pissed me the hell off. “Ornery” was a polite word for “asshole.” What the doc was telling me was that Gramps didn’t have to be cruel. He was cruel by choice.

I untangled myself from the sheets and piled them on the bed.

“What is it?”

“It’s Mike Kennedy, that asshole. Someone shot him.”

“What?”

He shoved his giant screen into my hands. I tapped the video window. It was from the POV of a car cam, that weird fish-eye view of a self-driving car, split-screen with the passenger in the front seat, and it was Mike Kennedy, looking even worse than Gramps, bloodshot and trembling, with that under-chin camera angle that makes everyone look like they’re half dead.

I tried to watch both halves. There was Kennedy, whispering something to him. There was the cul-de-sac he was parked in, false-lit with IR from the cameras. The timestamp was 1:17. Less than an hour before.

Then the external image flickered for a second and resolved itself into a man, who phased in and out. He was wearing a ghillie suit like the one Kennedy had worn on the roof, covered in telltale CV dazzle stripes, designed to exploit defects in the computer vision system. You had to wear a different specific pattern for every algorithm, but if you got the right matchup, the computer would simply not see you. The man was flickering into existence when his posture crumpled up the ghillie suit and made the pattern stop working, then out again when he straightened up.

He straightened and disappeared and Mike Kennedy’s eyes widened as he noticed the man for the first time—computer dazzle worked on computers, not humans—and he started to say something and then a round hole appeared in his forehead, his head snapping back against the headrest, then careening forward. The flickering phantom appeared again as the man in the ghillie suit turned and disappeared.

I dropped the tablet to my bed.

“Jesus Christ, Gramps, I didn’t need to see that snuff movie—”

He tried to smack me then. I was ready for it. I was faster. I stepped out of his reach. I was shaking too.

“You don’t get to hit me anymore old man. Never again, you hear me?”

He was purpling now, and a decade’s worth of fleeing and defusing his rages rose in me, made me want to apologize. After all, I rationalized, he’d just seen a friend murdered.

But I’d seen that friend murdered too, videobombed with a snuff flick at 2 a.m. without warning or consent. It was a traumatizing, selfish, asshole move. I’d be watching that movie on the backs of my eyelids for years to come. And the friend who’d died? He’d been ready to kill me. Gramps had no right. He was a grown-ass adult. He had no right.

“Listen to me, you little shit, you think you can live under my roof, take my charity, and talk to me like that? Now? With all the shit that I’m going through? No sir. No. Get out, you little bastard, get out now. Get out before I kick your goddamned teeth in.” He was vibrating with rage now, literally, actually shaking so hard his wispy hair swished back and forth across his forehead.

I didn’t say another word. I picked up some jeans and a jacket, put a pair of socks in a jacket pocket, and jammed my feet into a pair of sneakers without bothering to unlace them. I shouldered past him—still vibrating, stinking even worse—and banged out the back door and stomped through the nighttime streets.

My feet automatically took me up to Verdugo, and then across the empty road. I turned toward school—as I did every morning—and autopiloted in that direction. By the time I reached the Verdugo Aquatic Facility I had calmed down enough to realize that there was no reason to go to school at two thirty in the morning, so I stopped and headed for the playground in the park behind the pool. I sat down on a bench and kicked my shoes off and shook out the playground sand, pulled out my socks and put them on, then put my shoes back on properly. I was still furious, but now I could think straight and my hands weren’t shaking. Gramps and I hadn’t had a blowup like that in years, mostly— okay, entirely—because I’d backed down every time we’d been headed in that direction. I wasn’t in any mood to back down. Not ever, to be fully honest.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/11/equal-opportunity-class-war/#part-v

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

#pluralistic #books #science fiction #clifi #solarpunk #crowdfunding #audiobooks #the lost cause #fiction

26 notes · View notes