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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

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Smoke&Mirrors - playlist

You can find it on Spotify here.

Let’s start from the beginning:

Imagine Dragons - Smoke and Mirrors

Okay, so with Stuck in reverse series everything started with one song that inspired me to write something, and you know what happened later.

With this new series, the idea came first (prompted by @vaneilla’s wonderful brain, and you know what? I actually went back to check that bit of convo, and it was all because @gallifreyan-uprising did what she did to TP, so I guess thank you both, ladies!), and then I was looking for THE song, that could serve as an inspiration and as a title.

And because all my best ideas come to me while driving, and I had Imagine Dragons in my car’s CD player… BOOM.

//I'm starting to cave

I'm losing my flame

I wanted your truth

But I wanted the pain

To disappear

Dream maker, life taker

Open up my mind

All I believe

Is it a dream

That comes crashing down on me?

All that I hope

Is it just smoke and mirrors?

I want to believe

But all that I know

Is it just smoke and mirrors?//

This just felt so fitting for Reader and her struggle a little later in the series, and smoke and mirrors alone seemed like just what I needed to capture the essence of the main conflict between Neil and R.

Chapter 1: Imagine Dragons - Natural

I had the title, I knew what I wanted to do in the first chapter, but I still had doubts if I could switch to this new dynamic. -Neil being mean? I mean how even-- I needed a good playlist to get myself in the right mood to set the tone for the whole series, and even when I found a few songs that were good enough, I knew that none of them was the one. And then again, on my way to work, this time from my Spotify playlist - Natural. I literally started screaming when I realized that it was exactly what I’d been looking for. Not only because of its badass vibe, but those lyrics, holy shit -

//That's the price you pay

Leave behind your heart and cast away

Just another product of today

Rather be the hunter than the prey

And you're standing on the edge face up

'Cause you're a natural

A beating heart of stone

You gotta be so cold

To make it in this world

Yeah, you're a natural

Living your life cutthroat

You gotta be so cold

Yeah, you're a natural//

This is R. “A beating heart of stone / You gotta be so cold / To make it in this world”. Because she might be all spiky and angry on the outside, but why is she that way? Because she has to. Because nothing ever came easy in her life.

And this is Neil, too. A true natural, as TP calls him. But he also plays a role, because he was put in a position he didn’t want. And not only by TP, but also by R. That scene in the bar? He really hopes to clear the air between them, but she is not ready to listen, and keeps antagonizing him. *sigh* We know how it ends up. Anyway -

bonus: Willyecho - Welcome to the fire

Found this one when I was looking for the vibe, and then those lyrics--:

//I'm focused

I've been watching for the omens

I've been listening to everything you've said

Its been running through my head

Locked and loaded

I've got the feeling that you've noticed

Yeah I've only just begun

I won't stop until it's done

'Til you're broken

So welcome to the fire

I'm the one who lit the night up//

-- because yes, R’s that mad at him, TP, the whole world at this point, really.

Chapter 2: Florence + the Machine - What kind of man

So you know, one of the challenges I’d set for myself for this series was to finally write a proper smut. God, was I stressed out (shoutout to my lovely friends who had to listen to my self-doubting whines for quite some time). And as I knew it was supposed to happen in this chapter, and I already had an appropriate build-up in mind, I needed a song. And it wasn’t this one, although it made its way to the chapter’s playlist. But as I actually wrote the whole thing down… I felt it had that vibe.

//You were on the other side, like always

You could never make you mine//

Oh R, my sweet summer child.

//To let me dangle at a cruel angle

Oh, my feet don't touch the floor

Sometimes you're half in and then you're half out

But you never close the door

What kind of man loves like this?//

And that part is just so fitting with the whole confusion.

bonus: Graffiti Ghosts - Last man standing

The one behind the shooting range sequence:

//Your trigger finger better think about your future

You’re getting twisted thinking I don’t want to shoot ya

I’ve been waiting for a long time

and I’m coming back to get what’s mine

Sick of living with your little double faces

I’m getting itchy and so livid I can taste it

I’ve been waiting for a long time

and I’m swinging til I get what’s mine

but I’m not going down

I’m not going down//

Can’t say that R isn’t fantasizing about shooting Neil at some point, it’s all I’m saying. And the vibe was all right, and worked for the sparring scene as well.

bonus: Zayde Wolf - New Blood

I needed decent background music to write that sparring scene, you know - to hype myself up. And then found this song. Look at the lyrics:

//I spent my whole life chained to the wall

Hunger for more, not afraid to fall

Had to cut a man down to get where I am

But someone had to tumble, and someone had to stand

Don't try to fight, nothin' you can do

I'm gonna run all over you

It's too late to try, there's nothin' you can do

I'm gonna run all over you//

and

//Most of my life was heavy and hard, yeah

So many days, so many scars

But it was all of those years who make who I am, yeah

But I broke through, and here I stand, yeah//

Added to the playlist instantly. You can see it too, right?

bonus: Nothing But Thieves - Itch

I love this band and I’m eternally grateful that my dear friend @connie-nikas itroduced me to their music. Spotify suggested that it fit the mood for the playlist I already had for that part, so I checked the lyrics and YES:

//There's a hunger in my heart

It's full of promise, promise

There's an itch under my skin

It's under my skin, under my skin//

...

//There's a blood red on my shirt

And it's shining, shining

There's a sharp pain from my face

I kinda like it, I like it//

...

//I just wanna love

I just wanna touch

I just wanna see

'Cause I, I just wanna feel something real

Wanna feel something//

It fits more than one moment in the series, but that blood part seemed accurate for sparring, so it stayed in this chapter.

bonus: Dorothy - Wicked ones

Another Spotify suggestion, and it works pretty well for these dumbasses, although this part:

//This night ain't for the faint of heart

For the faint of heart, for the faint of heart

This night ain't for the faint of heart

'Cause the faint of heart gonna fall apart//

--this got me going while I was having heart palpitations as I was getting closer to the locker scene lol.

And then:

//Ain't no sleep when the wicked play

All we do is get laid, uuh uh uuh uuh

Ain't no love when the wicked run

All we do is try to lay off, lay off, lay off

We're the wicked ones, wicked ones//

Fits, right?

bonus: Muse - Undisclosed desires

I -blame- have to thank M for this one, and it was my initial title song for this part. Just see for yourselves:

//I know you've suffered

But I don't want you to hide

It's cold and loveless

I won't let you be denied

Soothing, I'll make you feel pure

Trust me, you can be sure

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

You trick your lovers

That you're wicked and divine

You may be a sinner

But your innocence is mine

Please me, show me how it's done

Tease me, you are the one//

It just -- it’s not only about that one scene. Maybe it would be even better for part 3? Anyway, could be sung to R almost word for word, right?

Chapter 3: Nothing But Thieves - You know me too well

One of my favourites from this band, and I knew it had to be a title of some part of the story. Because:

//I gave you a call

Baby, I could come by, help forget it all

'Cause in this sticky weather, oh, it's really hard to sleep

As you know all too well

And when we dig together, oh, you make me feel so cheap

But I can't help myself

Filthy impetuous soul

I wanna give it to you

Oh, just to see what you do

'Cause I'm so drunk on you

Baby, you're all that I want

I want you all to myself

Oh, but you know me too well//

So yeah, filthy impetuous soul was only fair to use for that bathroom, right?

//And maybe you're right

We don't get on so well, when we lose the high//

That’s them at this point, all right.

//'Cause every love story always end in tragedy

If you wait long enough//

Oh hello, R’s beliefs here, clear as night.

//Renew me 'cause sometimes I forget

Got my own two hands clenched around my neck//

Could be said by both of them at this point, tbh.

bonus: Leann Rimes - Can’t fight the moonlight

So let me be frank - I knew I wanted to put that bathroom scene somewhere for quite some time, so it’s written purely for self-indulgence. I just needed to find an opportunity. And during one of the brainstorming sessions with A (because she was so kind to help me out with figuring things out when I stumbled over certain plot points, and I can’t thank her enough), the idea of karaoke night came to life and she gave me this song and fuck yes! That was it!

One of my favourite Neil headcanons is that he likes cheesy songs, and Coyote Ugly movie has a special place in my heart, so I just knew it was the one for him! Especially because:

//Under the lovers sky

Gonna be with you

And no one's gonna be around

If you think that you won't fall

Well just wait until

'Til the sun goes down//

it’s just perfect if you wanna kinda seduce/kinda embarrass someone, right? And also:

//You can try to resist

Try to hide from my kiss

Don't you know, don't you know

That you, can't fight the moonlight

Deep in the dark, you'll surrender your heart//

Because yes, he wanted to kiss her in that locker room, that’s a thing you do when you’re attracted to someone, right? He thought it was just because of this whole angry sex thing, but was aware of that all the time, that’s why R’s reaction in the bathroom alarms him. I mean it would make him stop anyway, but still.

bonus: Ruelle - Until we go down

The mood progression in this song fried my brain, absolutely amazing!

The lyrics, too:

//And I feel it running through my veins

And I need that fire just to know that I'm awake

Erased, I missed till the break of day

And I need that fire just to know that I'm awake

Until we go down//

bonus: Bishop Briggs - Wild horses

Another song that captures the spirit of what’s going on in R’s head.

//You hold me down in the best way

No quarter from these chains that I've

Slept on my heart for a feeling

Why can't I let my demons out?

Keep screaming into the pillow

Cause your taste still gets me stupid high

Oh glory, I'm a believer

Oh glory, I'm a troubler//

At this point, she’s well aware of the effect Neil has on her, and the internal conflict is strong in this one.

//You call my truth in the worst way

Through the dirty lands of a broken smile

And I swear I'm not a pretender

Sometimes it's love who's the baby's cry

So, I keep on damning the devil

And you keep on saying it's alright

Oh glory, I'm a believer

Oh Lord, I'm holding tight, but//

And the whole vibe of this song, it’s like fuck I’m losing my mind, but I want you and I want you now. Just makes my breath hitch.

bonus: Transviolet - Bloodstream

And as I needed a certain mood, -(ended up actually writing with TENDER in the background because apparently I need a complete opposite mood seeping through my headphones to write any smut at all but anyway...)-, and this song is just...wow.

//Fingertips drip down my spine

Cruel desire, danger in our consequence

You look my way and I lose my…

Hey, you wanna rule the world?

Outlaw love, make you lose control

Hey, hey, boy you got me like whoa

White hot, adrenaline baby

In my veins, you got me praying

Whoa, whoa, whoaaaa

My pretty blue lips begging

Take me, I need you in my bloodstream

Hold me, break me

My breath is for holding, overdose me

I need you in my bloodstream

Hold me, break me, break me//

Hot. I won’t be taking any notes.

Chapter 4: Aimee Mann - Save me

You remember that part 4 was supposed to be the last one? Don’t ask me, I don’t know how I would manage to get that emotional progression from these dumbasses by the end of that part, so I’m glad y’all voted on splitting it into 2 (and then another 2) parts. But I already had a playlist for the finale, and then had to make a new one, and then had too many possible title songs.

Why did this one win? Because in my brain it’s directly connected to my OTP and also fits this part of the story. I battled myself if it was a spoiler or not (and also had trouble getting to terms with R ever admitting that she needs to be saved), but then thought - eh, what the hell, it has the right lyrics and a proper mood, and here it is.

//You look like a perfect fit

For a girl in need of a tourniquet

But can you save me

Come on and save me

If you could save me

From the ranks of the freaks

Who suspect they could never love anyone//

and that shift to this part, oh my heart:

//Except the freaks

Who suspect they could never love anyone

Except the freaks who could never love anyone.//

bonus: Jamie O'Neal - All by myself

Okay, so the car scene was in my mind for a little while, and in the initial outline, aka part 4 is the finale I couldn't find a place for it and thought I might end up making a one shot out of it, so when I actually had enough time to write it into the story, I was so excited!

I was looking for a song, and the first one that came to my mind was Air Supply - All out of love, but I could never beat what Jensen Ackles did in the outtakes of that one Supernatural episode, so I had to abandon that song, sadly. And then I thought about the one with basically the same vibe and *ding ding ding*. And of course Neil would know it. And would know what movie this is from (just look at him and try telling me he doesn’t like British rom-coms, I dare you). And would tease R about it. (and that’s why I used that cover of this song).

//Hard to be sure

Sometimes I feel so insecure

And loves so distant and obscure

Remains the cure

All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself

Anymore//

bonus: Meg Myers - Motel

I’ve discovered Meg’s music just because of Spotify’s recommendations, and oh my god, it’s amazing! And this song just felt right for their talk during the stakeout, just look at the lyrics:

//You're weak, broken in a motel

You blink, tears are falling down, down, down

And you're free, free inside your own hell

You speak, someone let me out, out, out

And I can't stop this pain, it only grows

Tell me why I always feel alone

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

Show me what I'm really living for

I wanna love, wanna live, wanna breath, wanna give

But it's hard and it's dark and we're doomed from the start

I wanna love, wanna live, wanna breathe, wanna give

But it's hard and it's dark and I'm falling apart//

ahh, nothing like a good old angst, am I right? Perfect for writing about the more vulnerable sides of them.

bonus: Fear Of Men - Sane

There is just something in this song that resonates deeply, you know?

//I see you drowning

Half flesh half stone

With ambitions that drain your health

You hear me

(Secrets)

You run from me

You hear me

(You hear me)

I know

You hear me

(Secrets)

You run from me

You hear me

(You hear me)

You know, you know, you know

It’s in your eyes when you’re perfectly sane

It’s in your blood when you can’t bear these heavy thoughts again

It’s in your eyes when you’re perfectly sane

It’s in your blood when you can’t bear these heavy thoughts again//

bonus: Laura Doggett - Beautiful undone

That track almost ended up as the title. When I stumbled upon this song, I was completely blown away, as in I-had-it-on-repeat-for-4h-straight blown away.

//I took you walking

Through the murmurations of my mind//

that line just strikes me right through the heart, and it gets even better later:

//I'm looking down and my heart's connected

I'm feeling love from a different view

We learn the most when we least expect it

We learn the most when we break in two//

I don’t think that any of them expects to learn more about each other during that one mission. I mean sure, Neil counts on it, but doesn’t know what it's gonna be. And if she lets him into his head at all.

//You know you're beautiful undone

(Shine on)

So beautiful undone

You look beautiful undone

(Hearts connected)

My boy of blue.//

My boy of blue. I don’t know why it screamed Neil to me, but it did.

//It's the cracks that let the light shine

It's the cracks that let the light shine through.//

And that’s exactly it.

Chapter 5: LAUREL - Blue blood

Okay, THIS song, as soon as I heard it, I was like - this is it, this is her.

//You woke me up for your blue blood

Made me come undone

Can't believe you've been here the whole time

Too nice to pass you by and I can't believe

You've been here the whole time

You made me feel again

Made me dance circles 'round the pieces of your heart

You made me feel again

After the last time, didn't think that I could love//

That “was he always so gorgeous” moment, right? When she just sees him for the first time this way. And is slowly coming to terms with her feelings.

bonus: Prep School - Come as you are

So this one… We all know the original song (or this is my old ass talking), but only when I heard this cover, I really felt it, you know?

//Come as you are, as you were

As I want you to be

As a friend, as a friend

As an old enemy//

Just made me think about R being ready to get to know Neil better. About the shift in their dynamic.

//When I swear that I don't have a gun

No I don't have a gun//

She lets her guard down, and is ready to trust him.

Also - how great is the mood of this song? That crescendo just takes my breath away, and that calmer moment at the end? Good god. Utter perfection.

bonus: Ray LaMontagne - Such a simple thing

I’ve been sitting on this song for quite some time, and just had to find a suitable moment for it. And this was it.

//Tell me what you're feeling

I can take the pain

Tell me that you mean it

That you won't leave again

Tell me what your heart wants

Such a simple thing

My heart is like paper

Yours is like a flame

I can't make you see

If you don't by now

I'll get through these chains

Some how, some how

Take it if you want it

I'm so tired I just don't care

Can't you see how much you hurt me?

It's like I wasn't there//

My heart just aches while I listen to this song. It’s so tender, and yet so heartbreaking.

bonus: Keane - Hamburg sing

When A sent me this song, god, the way I screamed. Because this is so Neil.

//I don't wanna be adored

Don't wanna be first in line

Or make myself heard

I'd like to bring a little light

To shine a light on your life

To make you feel loved

No, I don't wanna be the only one you know

I want to be the place you call home

I lay myself down to make it so

But you don't want to know

I give much more than I'd ever ask for

Will you see me in the end

Or is it just a waste of time?

Trying to be your friend?

Just shine, shine, shine

Shine a little light

Shine a light on my life

And warm me up again//

At this point in the story, he already fell for her hard. And can just hope that she sees him at one point, too.

You know, writing that first really intimate moment between them-- I know I was supposed to be on R’s side, but I knew what was going on in Neil’s head at that point (that’s why I was so happy when Chels asked that one question that made me write Come as you are) and... I don’t know, I’m so soft for this idiot, I just want to hug him.

//Fool, I wonder if you know yourself at all

You know that it could be so simple//

My dumbasses.

Chapter 6: Phantogram - You’re mine

We’re gonna save this one for the very end, just mentioning it here as we move to the next chapter.

bonus: Adna - Night

You know that sad music montage thing that the movies do after a breakup scene or something? This song has that exact vibe.

//Silence grows and you're all i know

Eyes are closed, I'll see your smile, your love

Thinking

This is what

It could be

Knowing

It is all

It would be

In the night

When you see

What i see

In the night when you feel

What i mean

You're my knight

And my dream

And my only sight

Oh you

Stay true//

For me, it’s the beginning of chapter 6. R is almost heartbroken, and that almost comes from the part of her that still thinks that still fights the idea that she might have any feelings for that blonde idiot. Conceal, don't feel, or something. But she’s being haunted by random memories from their time together.

bonus: Snow Patrol - Make this go on forever

This song makes my heart ache and clench and oh my god--

//Please don't let this turn into something it's not

I can only give you everything I've got

I can't be as sorry as you think I should

But I still love you more than anyone else could

All that I keep thinking throughout this whole flight

Is it could take my whole damn life to make this right

This splintered mast I'm holding on won't save me long

Because I know fine well that what I did was wrong//

This works for the sad montage thing I’ve mentioned, but it was all about this line:

//First kiss and the first time that I felt connected to anything//

I was listening to it on my way home one day and my eyes welled up. Because that’s what I wanted both of them to feel right then.

//And I don't know where to look

My words just break and melt

Please just save me from this darkness//

and these lines just brought the image of Neil stumbling over his words and, well, that was it. I knew it had to be done like that.

bonus: Walking On Cars - Speeding Cars

This song is about something different, but there is one part that resonated with the story:

//Even the half smile would have slowed down the time

If I could call you half mine

Maybe this is the safest way to go//

Just fits. Had to be there.

bonus: Etham - Before I lose my mind - Stripped

I think I found this one a while ago, and then it came on when I had Spotify on shuffle, and oh myyyy goooood. That heart-wrenching yearning? So, so on point.

//Look at the state I'm in

I couldn’t say where I've been

Lord knows that it ain't felt like home//

This is as much R’s song, as it is Neil’s.

//I don't know what

I've been running from, running from

Or what I thought I would find

All I know is

You're the only one, only one

I need you tonight

Before I lose my mind//

and this part:

//Don't tell me that I’m too late this time

So much I couldn’t see

With words that I didn't speak

What do I have to do to make you mine?//

This part of the playlist is just utter heartbreak and yearning, but it was only fitting. Just moments before the confession.

bonus: Nick Wilson - Let me hold you

On repeat for the whole part with Neil’s confession. This song is so goddamn beautiful, I can’t--.

//We've been there before

Reaching the end but forgetting the reason we started this for

In all of our flaws

Laid out beneath us, there's no need to keep building up these walls

(Oh we can't go on)

Just let me hold you

I'll run my fingers through your hair

Let our ghost loose

Let me know that you're still there//

bonus: Liz Longley - Rescue my heart

This, on the other hand, started playing right after, and I partially blame it for R’s breakdown. I was just staring at that line about her being afraid to lose him and I was like “where the hell this came from, girl?” and then, as I was trying to push them both further into the plot, but they kinda refused to let each other go, so I was sitting there like “you guys really needed that, huh?”

I know what it sounds like. But when I spend so much time with my characters, really fleshing them out in every possible way, they kinda develop minds of their own, and later they guide me through the dialogue parts, and even sometimes ruin my initial plans. Because they know best how they would behave right then. So all I have to do is just follow them. Or try reasoning with them. (Had a moment like that at the end of the first scene in chapter 6, like had this feeling that R just wanted to dwell on the nature of her relationship with Ives, but I didn’t want to put it there so openly, I was happy with leaving a line here and there, so I had to put my foot down pff - and it switched into that bit about friendships in general)

Right, back to the song:

//Lying to myself I can make it on my own

Making it alone is lonely

Twisting and I'm turning

Oh I'm crashing and I'm burning

So reach out your hand to me

Come down

Rescue my heart I'll drown

Without you//

This is it.

bonus: Madonna - I want you

You know, one of my favourite parts of the writing process is just bumping the ideas around, and I have been blessed to have a wonderful friend such as M, who’s always there when I need to discuss different ideas or just got a bit of dialogue I really want to share. And knowing what I was writing, she sent me this song.

And I’ve been listening to it a lot ever since, and when Neil started his confession, and struggled with words, I wrote: "I want…you.” He moved closer. “The right way.”

I stopped, staring at that line, like really, Neil? This is it? Then the next song from the playlist started playing and:

//I want you the right way

I want you, but I want you to want me too//

So I just sighed and moved on, dropping a short message to M on the way.

bonus: Welshly Arms - Need you tonight

Spotify recommends the best covers, hands down. I love the original song, but this right here? It’s everything.

//How do you feel

I'm lonely

What do you think

Can't take it all

What ya gonna do

Gonna live my life

So slide over here

And give me a moment

Your moves are so raw

I've got to let you know

You're one of my kind

I need you tonight

'Cause I'm not sleeping

There's something about you girl

That makes me sweat//

bonus: TENDER - Afternoon

Every song of theirs is just incredibly sensual, so I thought it was only fair to include one of those for the scene (thank you again A, their music is everything, I swear). And this one was particularly accurate:

//I'm spendin' all of my time tryna open up

Let it breathe, let it breathe

It all comes down

To whether you love me anymore

God, I hope you do

'Cause I can't tell, I can't tell

By the look in your eyes//

bonus: Layla - Weightless

Another one for that moment.

//A silver whisper, take flight and steal into my mouth

An urge to kiss you and let this secret pleasure out

Your touch so tender, a helpless roar of golden play

This youthful slender, hallucinate my woes away

We are weightless

We are invincible

Nothin' like this

Flyin' like cannonballs//

bonus: Rob Simonsen - Soft center

While I was discussing the main plot points with A, we knew there had to be a morning after scene, and she had just a song for it. Utter perfection.

end credits: Phantogram - You’re mine

I know I say it a lot, but when A sent it to me… The way I screamed. I couldn’t believe it. The story was already like 2 parts in, I think? And this song...every line was about them. Every. Goddamn. One. And the overall I just thought to myself “oh, end credits rolling right here.”

//You don't talk to no one

Don't you look at nothing

Focus on me

Look into my eyes

Come a little closer

Let me tell you something

Eat your ego honey

Honey swallow your pride

You don't talk to no one

Don't you look at nothing

Focus on me

Look into my eyes

Come a little closer

Let me tell you something

You ain't going anywhere

'Cause you mine//

And from this part it gets even better:

//I used to be a rifle

Yeah I had my distance,

Whistling like a bullet in the sky//

//I used to be a psycho

Yeah I had my demons,

Crawling like a spider up my spine//

*incoherent screaming*

And the next part took me right back to the very first scene.

//I spotted you the second I walked in the building

I knew that you had let me get you high//

Right? Right???

//I wanna hear the things you say when no-one's listening

But that don't matter anyway...

'Cause you're mine//

And that’s it.

Damn, what a wild ride that was.

Thank you for staying with me until the very end.

#smoke & mirrors #smoke & mirrors playlist #bts smoke & mirrors

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .6.

thursday

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Warnings: non/dub con sex (you know what it is ;))

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader spends her last night in the Rogers’ household.

Note: OMG it’s the finale! Hope y’all are ready because I sure as fuck am not. But let’s get snappin’.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think!

…

It was your last full day with Kylie. With Steve. You were exhausted. The week had lasted much longer than anticipated. And the night. You spent most of it awake. Not just because Steve slept on the other side of your wall but because of the itch which never fully faded. Every time you about to doze, it woke you. Your thighs tickled and your core pulsed. He had left you wanting and you suspected it was no accident.

When the sun rose, you did too. You kept quiet. You listened until you heard movement in the next room. Steve's door opened and shut, his footsteps paused in the hallway. A light graze along the other side. A sigh. He carried on and left you to finally breathe.

You bathed if only to waste time. You were drawn from the tub by a knock. It was Kylie. As promised, she'd awoken early.

She entered as you held tight your towel. She was ready for the day. A black bathing suit with cut-outs complemented her perfect figure. Your flower bathing suit was out of the question and your bikini bottoms were missing. Your other option was the bright yellow frilly piece your mom had bought you. Oh well, you’d just be lounging in the pool.

You changed and followed her into the hall. The house was eerily quiet. It felt oddly empty. You listened for any noise from the room next to yours or below. Kylie slipped her sunglasses on as she descended the stairs lazily. You trailed her, your ears pricked for any sign of life.

“My dad went into town,” She yawned as she led you into the kitchen, “Something about his motorcycle? I dunno. He’s been working on that thing for years.”

“Oh,” You let out a silent breath of relief.

She rounded the island and pulled out a pitcher from the fridge and a tray of ice. “I figured ice coffees by the pool will be a great start to the day,” She grinned. “A lazy day to end your visit.”

“Thank god,” You smiled. “I’m not looking forward to a summer at the banquet hall.”

“Yeah, but the tips,” She took out two glasses and added ice. “My mom got me a job at a newspaper. Folding flyers.”

“Shit,” You frowned as she poured the cold brew and replaced the pitcher in the fridge. “I’d gladly trade weddings for the menial work.”

“If only,” She slid your coffee across to you. “Oh well, let’s just enjoy the sun.”

“When do you go to your mom’s?” You asked as you stepped out into the yard. Birds chirped merrily and you could smell the freshly cut grass over the fence.

“Another week. Figure it’s enough time to say goodbye to Taylor.” She sat on a lounger and sipped her drink. “He’s dropping out, eh? His parents are pissed.”

“Really?” You draped your towel over the back of the chair and sat.

“He hates it. He’s not one for reading, you know?” She shrugged. “It’s all just a waste of time. If my parents weren’t down my throat about it, I wouldn’t even be there. I just wanna go live in a big city and be me.”

“Yeah,” You took a gulp and set down the glass carefully beside your beach chair. “I don’t know what to do if I don’t get the switch. I mean, I could still write in my spare time but...whatever. You’re right, let’s just chill and worry about it later.”

“Ooh, I like vacation you,” She giggled. “I’ll enjoy her while she lasts.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad,” You snapped.

“Nah, not at all, mom,” She teased, “Don’t worry, it’s what I like about you. All my other friends encourage my bad decisions.”

You shook your head and put your own sunglasses on as you reclined. You were okay with spending your last day doing nothing. It would be a nice reprieve before a day spent driving to a summer of work.

Steve returned that afternoon. The sun’s heat had softened and you floated around the pool in half a slumber. Your heart fluttered as you heard the car engine and the subsequent open and close of the front door. The house muted all other noise and you prayed he did not come looking for you.

It was almost twenty minutes before he made his appearance. Your sunbathed trance had broke and you were antsy atop your floatie. You fidgeted as you tried to balance the still unfinished book and glanced to the glass doors as they slid open.

“Hey,” Steve appeared in a short-sleeve button-up and shorts. Kylie waved to him as she texted at the edge of the pool. “You look...relaxed.”

“What’s up, dad?” She grumbled as she tore her eyes from her screen.

“Just checking on you guys,” He sat on the lounger you had formerly occupied. “Have you had lunch?”

“Dad, we can fend for ourselves,” She shook her head and set her phone down as she pushed herself away from the side of the pool. “We’re adults.”

“I know,” He smiled and she didn’t notice as his eyes strayed to you. You closed your book and shielded your chest with it. “I was just trying to be nice.” He sighed and blocked the sun from his eyes. “I ran into Taylor’s mom...she asked how you were doing?”

Kylie sat up and nearly turned over her floatie. “You’re checking in on me. Dad, me and Taylor--”

“I don’t have a problem with Taylor,” He asserted, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She leaned back slowly.

“You didn’t mention he was going away,” He scratched his chin as he spoke. “I know it’s probably difficult but--”

“What do you mean going away?” Kylie’s floatie shook dangerously again as she jolted up.

“I thought you...knew,” He seemed genuinely perplexed, though you had found him to be a great actor. “He’s leaving on Sunday...for enlistment.”

“Enlistment?” Her voice peaked and she dove off her floatie. She broke the surface and dragged herself through the water back to her phone at the edge. “I didn’t--He didn’t tell me.”

She climbed out and dialed her phone as she stormed to the glass door. You gaped and Steve met your gaze. A grin slowly spread across his face. Shit. This wasn’t new information. This was an expertly timed reveal of a secret he’d been holding onto.

You swallowed and paddled yourself over to the ladder. You climbed out and Steve stood. He moved into your path as you made to follow Kylie.

“Get out of my way,” You hissed.

“I got you a gift,” He kept his distance but his eyes embraced you. It was as if you could feel the things he was thinking of doing to you. “I left it on your bed.”

“I…” You sidestepped him but he didn’t try to stop you. His fingers merely brushed along your thigh and snapped the bottom of your swimsuit. “I gotta go check on Kylie.”

You scurried around him and through the door. You could hear Kylie’s voice from upstairs and you glanced back to the yard. Steve had turned to watch you but did not follow. His hands were on his hips in a victorious pose. He knew what he had done.

Kylie spent an hour on the phone with Taylor. Then the rest of the night texting him as you tried to comfort her. She was too distracted, too angry to notice your own distress. When she didn’t have her phone, she was in tears or fits of rage. You listened to her rants as she paced restlessly or collapsed weakly on her bed.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” She bemoaned as she slumped on her bed. “He was just going to leave me.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your last day had taken a sour turn and you had zero relationship advice to offer. You had avoided men for most of your life. You didn’t get them either. They seemed more stressful than anything. The last week had confirmed as much.

“Kylie, maybe he was scared to tell you,” You peeked out the window just beyond her bed. It was dark out. Past nine already. Your evening had wasted away with her temper. “I’m sure he meant to but it’s probably hard for him, too.”

“Ugh,” She kicked her feet and stood with a growl. “I just...I have to talk to him.”

“Kylie,” You rose, “Come on, it’s my last night.”

“And it might be my last chance to say goodbye,” She whined. “I’m sorry, but I might not see him...ever again.”

“You have two days left to say goodbye,” You pleaded.

“I promise I’ll be back to see you off,” She took her phone and tucked it in her pocket. “Please.”

You sighed. You really didn’t want to let her go. Didn’t want to be here alone. But how much could you take of her fits? You knew she was going to leave whether you agreed or not. She already had her keys in her hand.

“Fine, I guess I can’t say no,” You muttered. “Go.”

“Thank you,” She grabbed your hand, “Really. I know I’m being a shit friend but…”

You pulled your hand from her grip and crossed your arms. “Just go.”

Her blonde lashes lowered in guilt but she left without another word. She brushed past you and rushed through her door and down the stairs. No pretense in hiding her departure. You listened from her open door as she hurried out. Her engine turned and tore down the drive.

You quietly pulled shut her door and tiptoed down the hall. You pushed through into your own room and it clicked behind you as you entered. You crossed to your bed and fell onto it with a groan. You kept yourself from screaming into the pillow as you landed on an unseen object. You sat up and climbed off the crumpled cardboard.

You shifted the lid off the box and blinked at its contents. You peeled away the tissue paper to fully uncover the lacy lingerie. There was no ass or crotch in the lilac panties, merely a series of lacy straps and a bra to match which could barely conceal your chest. A knock came at your door.

You stood but it opened without awaiting your answer. Steve let the door fall open and you stared at him as you held the pale bra. He smiled and crossed his arms.

“You opened it.” You tossed the bra on the bed and stepped back. “Oh sweetie, let’s not play this game.”

You looked to the lingerie strewn on the bed and gulped. You should’ve locked the door. Why hadn’t you locked the door?

“Go on, change. I’ll wait out in the hall,” He coaxed, “I just…I like surprises, don’t you?”

He slowly backed out and closed the door. His weight shifted the wood as he leaned against the other side. Whether you did what he wanted or not, he’d come back in and make you. He had crafted the situation so well. You couldn’t say no, even if you could’ve found your voice.

It was two minutes before you found your wits. You looked down at your bathing suit and shook your head. You peeled it off and let it pool at your feet. You stepped out of it and untangled the purple panties. You pulled them on, though it was no easy task to figure them out. The bra was easier though it offered just as little coverage.

You peeked at your body. The top of your breasts propped up by the underwire, only the top of your vee hidden by the lace. A gentle tap came at the door. “You okay, sweetie?”

You flinched. Your shock slaked away and you forced your feet across the room. You couldn’t muster words, only opened the door to reveal yourself. He backed up and looked you up and down. He grinned and took your hand.

“You look amazing, sweetie,” His other palm tickled your side. He turned you down the hall and led you to the top of the stairs. “Come on.”

“Wh-where are we going?” You whispered.

“I meant it when I said I wanted you on that counter,” He tugged you down the steps as he descended on ahead of you. “I’ve been thinking of it since that first morning.”

“Steve…” You came to the bottom and planted your feet, “I…” You heart raced and you could barely hear yourself think.

“You don’t have to be scared,” He reached up to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “I won’t hurt you. Have I hurt you?”

You shook your head and looked down. He cradled your face in his large hand and pushed your chin up. He bent to kiss your lips.

“It’s okay, sweetie, we’ll keep it slow.”

He walked backwards and led you into the kitchen. He pushed the dimmer up halfway and turned so that you were ahead of him. He guided you backwards and stopped you just beside the island. He leaned in and kissed you again. This time he pressed his tongue along your lips. You opened your mouth and let him explore. You’d never been kissed like that.

His hands grazed along your sides, from shoulder to hip and back again. He tickled your waist and gripped it firmly. He lifted you without drawing away. He slid you onto the counter, your legs hanging over the marble as he pushed between them. He buried his hand in your hair and dragged his lips from yours.

He bent as he kissed and nibbled along your jaw and neck. Then your shoulders and teased along your collarbone. He cupped your tits as he kissed the top of them and pushed his face between them. He nudged you back so that you fell flat against the counter top.

He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulders and pulled the cups past your breasts. You untangled your arms as he took a nipple in his mouth and the lacy bra slipped further down your torso. You shivered and he reached up to caress your cheekbone. He held your head in his hand, gently rubbing his thumb along your jawline.

He tended to you gently with his mouth. Pinched your nipple firmly with his other hand and you moaned. You were on fire at his touch. Your mind was a storm of shame and lust. You shouldn’t be doing this, but it felt so nice.

His hand continued down your body, along your stomach to trace the line of your panties. His finger delved past the lace to your exposed pussy and he ran his index over your clit. You twitched and he did it again. Your body responded without thought.

His mouth followed his hand and he got to his knees. He pulled you closer to the edge and hooked your legs over his shoulders. He replaced his finger with his tongue and you sighed. You clapped your hand over your mouth. You were shocked at your own pleasure. This was Kylie’s father; a man twice your age. It was so wrong.

His tongue chased away your doubts and you pushed your head back into the marble as he danced around your clit. He delved between your folds with his index and middle fingers. He dragged them along your pussy as his mouth played with your bud. Your wetness mixed with his saliva and he hummed.

“Sweetie,” He drew away just slightly and looked up at you, “You taste so good.”

You closed your eyes and covered your face with your hands. He reached up and tugged at your arms. You let your hands slip down and he guided them to the back of his head. He went back to work with his tongue and pressed his index to your entrance. He pushed inside just a little and you gasped.

He entered slowly and you trembled. His tongue eased the pressure and he moved his finger in and out. An odd sensation began to bloom. More intense than before. He added another finger and curled them inside of you as he toyed with your clit. Your legs tensed around his head and you latched onto his gold and silver hair.

You arched your back as the wave washed over you. So sudden, so sharp that you cried out and clung to him desperately. Your orgasm left you breathless and weak. He slowly pulled out as he raised his head. He licked your cum from his lips and fingers as he stood.

“Wasn’t that nice, sweetie?” Your head lolled back and forth as you crossed your arms over your body. The afterglow held you in a senseless haze. “It was, wasn’t it?” He cooed and began to unbutton his shirt.

You counted your breaths as they slowed and your vision cleared. He dropped his shirt to the floor, then his shorts. You peered down at him and removed his underwear with a smirk up at you. He stood and stroked his cock as he neared. You closed your legs and he softly touched your knees.

“Come on, sweetie, was that so bad?” He tickled your thighs, “Don’t you want more?”

You bit your lip and spread your fingers along your chest. You couldn’t look at him as you nodded and let your legs fall slack. He pushed between them and you shivered. The tip of his cock poked at your pussy and you lifted your head to look down at him.

“It’s okay,” His cock slid over your pussy as he bent over you. He slipped his hand beneath your head as he kissed you and his other hand ventured down your body. He pulled away and whispered. “Just a little bit of pain, sweetie.”

You pressed your palms to his chest as he rubbed his cock along your pussy. You could feel yourself getting even wetter. He groaned and lined himself up and you inhaled sharply. He kissed your cheek and pressed his lips to your ear.

“Are you ready, sweetie?” He asked but didn’t wait for your answer as he slowly pushed inside. You whimpered as he entered you. Only a little before he paused and caressed your temple with his thumb. “Just breathe and relax. Remember.”

You closed your eyes and grimaced as he continued. There was a moment of resistance as he got further in and sudden pang. You yelped.

“Steve,” You grabbed his shoulders and pushed on him. “Ugh, Steve,” You begged, “It hurts.”

He stopped and pulled out until only his tip was inside of you. He shushed and pushed in again. “Just a little more,” He said softly.

He stretched you terribly as he went even deeper this time. You dug your nails into his shoulders as the tears pricked at your eyes. Your breaths were loud and thick. You were almost choking on the pain as he brought himself to his limit. He stilled and you whined through gritted teeth.

“You’re so tight, sweetie,” He wiggled his hips and you groaned. “Fuck.”

He eased out of you and you shook. He thrust back in, just as slow as before but it still hurt. He repeated the motion several more times, each easier than the last. Your arms slipped around his neck and he kissed you. His lips smothered yours as his pace grew steadier. The agony dwindled and soon you felt the familiar warmth. The pain was but an echo in the distance.

“There,” He said as he leaned his forehead against yours, “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“Y-yes,” Your voice was small as your chest hammered. “Ahhhhh.”

“Yeah?” He picked up his pace just a little, “You like that, sweetie?”

“Y-y-yeah,” You clung to him and his head fell down next to yours.

You moaned in his ear as you brought your legs up around his back. He got even deeper and you cried out. He went even faster but the ache was overwhelmed by the heat flowing through you. He thrust into you again and again and again. He never wavered, only sped up until your sweaty back glided along the marble.

You hugged him to you as he plucked at your nerves. They twisted to a point and shattered all at once. You exclaimed as you orgasmed once again and he groaned in your ear. His motion grew erratic and he pulled out suddenly. His hand pushed between your bodies and he stroked himself until his cum spilled onto your thigh.

He held himself up on his elbow as he looked down at you. His eyes were smoky; dark. He broke your embrace as he stood and glanced down at himself. His pelvis was streaked red. You blanched and sat up quickly. You peeked at the counter between your legs, his cum and your blood sticky along the marble.

“Aw, sweetie, let’s get you cleaned up,” He turned and grabbed a dish towel from a drawer.

He wetted it beneath the faucet and returned to you. You stared down at the mess in shock. Had you really just done that? He wiped the blood away tenderly from your thighs before cleaning himself. Lastly, he sopped up the mess on the counter and tossed the cloth in the trash.

He came close again, his hands on your hips as he lifted you from the counter. He cradled you in his arms as he carried you through the door and to the stairs. “There’s a few more things I need to show you, sweetie…” He climbed the steps slowly. “We’ve only go tonight.”

...

END

tags to be added in reblog

#dad!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #fic #series #au #steve rogers #dad!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #miniseries #mcu #marvel #dark!fic #dark fic #darkverse #dark!verse #captain america

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duhragonball · 4 years ago

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Nanwum IV toolboxkit

I have a love/hate relationship with the word “tool”. On the one hand, tools are awesome. I like holding a big screwdriver and thinking about all the screws I can loosen with it. I ordered a thing at work yesterday and I can’t wait for it to arrive. There’s a rush of power in knowing some object will solve a bunch of problems. Look out, screws.

On the other hand, it annoys me how people use the term “tool” in a more abstract sense, like statistical “tools” or using a flow chart to figure out what to do. I can’t hold any of that crap, so calling it a tool feels like a bait-and-switch. But I can appreciate the power of the term. If you can liken a thing to a power drill, then you have my attention.

Anyway, this weekend is for making preparations for National Novel Writing Month, which starts next Sunday, so I thought it would be useful to go over the stuff that I use to get me through it.

1) The NaNoWriMo website.

Back in 2017, I seriously considered not even bothering with the website, because I figured it had nothing to offer. I’m the one doing all the work, right? But tracking progress is an effective motivator, and I like being able to see a chart that shows how well I’m doing. There’s some bugs in it. For some reason it doesn’t show my Camp Nano April 2018 as being complete, and when I tried to fix it, it doubled the word count instead.

It’s also useful for where I’m at today. Now that I’ve done this thing a few times, I can measure current performance against past years. November 2018 was my personal best, so I’m going to use that as a model for this year. I don’t need to beat 2018-me, but I do need to remind myself that I’ve performed this well in the past.

2) George R. R. Martin motivational desktop wallpaper.

I started doing this as a joke, but looking at this dude sitting at his computer, not writing is a much more powerful motivator than I ever thought possible. The idea is that if I minimize the writing window to do something else, I have to look this dude in the eye before I can look up Robocop clips on YouTube. I’ve had months where I was struggling to meet the goal, and then I went “Oh, yeah, I forgot to change my desktop pic, and it pushes me over the finish line. It’s like Popeye eating spinach.

Now the Tone Police will take issue with something like this, and call it arrogant. “How dare you put down a highly successful fantasy author just to make yourself feel confident,” they’ll say as they wag their finger. “Don’t you care that you might be making procrastinators feel bad?” To that I say: fuck’em.

See, I’m a world-class procrastinator in my own right. I have to get hyped for this stuff every year, because that’s the only way I can build up enough momentum to see it through. Like all Sith Lords, I have to call upon all of my emotions -- fear, anger, pride, fernweh -- to fuel the creative monster. I don’t make a dime on this, so if I can’t take some bloody satisfaction out of it then what’s the point?

I’m pretty sure George doesn’t even know I do this, but in case he’s reading this, let me address him specifically: George, I’ve cranked out three of these Nanwums and you still haven’t finished Winds of Winter, which is well on its way to becoming the Duke Nukem Forever of modern fantasy. I don’t know if you got soft, like Rocky in Rocky IV, or maybe you’ve lost your confidence like Rocky in Rocky III, but you have to kindle a fire under your ass, even if it’s a silly fire, like fear of dying before the book goes to print, or getting it done just to spite assholes like me. But find something and use it.

3) Kenny Omega vs. Sonny Kiss, AEW Dynamite 10/21/2020

youtube

This was a first-round match in a tournament for the right to challenge for the AEW World title, and it was Kenny’s big return to singles action, so I guess the idea here was to make him look strong by having him crush Sonny Kiss in under 15 seconds. I’ve seen blowouts in wrestling before, but this one speaks to me on a different level, and I’m sorely tempted to swap out my GRRM image with this shot of in-the-zone Kenny Omega.

Because I feel this right now. This isn’t like last year or the year before, where I got behind working on stuff in October so I wasn’t fully prepared. I got all caught up a few weeks ago, and I have eight days to get ready. I haven’t written a thing in weeks, and I’m itching to get back to it. I want a big Day One total to start the month off, and seeing this match makes me want to aim even higher than 7000 words. Can I hit 10,000 in one day? The Cleaner sure thinks so. Clapclap-clap clap clap.

4) Focus Writer

You can check it out for yourself at https://gottcode.org/focuswriter/

The main selling point for Focus Writer is that it can be used for “distraction free” writing, in that it’s default setting makes it tricky to minimize the window to do other stuff. But I turned that off a while back. For my purposes, I just need the word counter.

One thing I learned while editing work instead of writing from scratch is that you can just set the word count goal to 100 words. That way, the percentage displayed at the bottom of the screen will keep track of how many words you’ve written in that session. So if you write 1275 new words, the counter will say 1275%.

I used to set actual goals, like 3500 words for the day or whatever, but I found myself constantly trying to calculate what 53% of that is, and that ended up being a huge distraction in itself. So now I just stick to the 100 word “goal” and use it to track my actual progress, rather than setting lofty goals that I may not need to actually hit. The Nano website does that for me anyway.

5) The Adventures of Dumplin

I’m essentially adapting the events of Dragon Ball Xenoverse 1 into this story, so I could break out my PS3 and play it through again to remind me of all the stuff I wanted to use from 2015, but it’s a lot easier to just watch someone else play it instead. Team FourStar’s playthrough of the Xenoverse games is some of their best material, as far as I’m concerned, and knowing this is one of my go-to references is going to make this November pretty awesome.

I’m not sure I could, or should, work Dumplin into my fic. If I did, he couldn’t be the same guy who saved the day in this LP series, because I’m having Luffa do all that. Early on, I envisioned a scene where she wakes up one morning after a night of heavy drinking and finds Dumplin in bed with her, but that seemed a little too goofy to use. But I want you to have that mental picture anyway, so I’m writing about it here.

6) Diet Pepsi

Straight Edge, Hard Core. Stephen King’s a wuss for using cocaine to help him write.

#nanwum iv #i'm gonna fuck this november up proper

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illshowyourhurricanes · 5 years ago

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In The Line Of Fire (Part 3)

Taking a break from requested drabbles for today to bring y’all the finale of this three-part series, brought to you from this prompt by sarahseleckywritingschool on Instagram. In part one, we saw Billy at Arthur’s place, and in part 2 we got a glimpse of seeing things through Ryan’s eyes (and get a glimpse into his mind). This is my first real foray into writing for Logan, and it is a doozy. He’s a beautifully written, complex character and I hope I did him and his story some justice. Parts one and two can be found in my masterlist. Please let me know what you think, I’m anxious about this one!

Trigger warning: mentions of / drug use and angst. All the angst.

Rating: R

Word count: 1649

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @bicevans @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove @delos-destinations @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @crushed-pink-petals-writes

If anyone would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please just send an ask!

Hugest of the huge special thanks fot @the-blind-assassin-12 for encouraging and convincing me an infinite amount of times to actually write this.

The orange flame coming from the light blue lighter Logan held in his large hand reflected in his dark, glossy eyes. Leaning back in his chair, his feet crossed at the ankles and propped up onto his solid wood Scarborough desk, his gaze rose to land on the small baggie of white powder lying just to the right of his feet. Logan Delos was deep into his latest relapse, back off the straight and narrow illusion of a filthy rich, capable, responsible mother fucker and heir of a multi-million dollar empire. No, Logan had hopped onto another wagon, one that took him to places nothing or no one else could touch. He was in love with what it did to him, the instant rush of euphoria, being on top of the fucking world with his ego swelling with confidence and purpose—the rush followed by the numbing of the bullshit and the descent into the reprieve of the constant buzzing in his brain. A warmth spread through his veins and he knew that he was Logan Delos: untouchable, desirable, anything he could ever wish for right there at his fingertips for the taking.

He was Logan Delos, a man that others chased and craved like he chased and craved the drug there at his feet. A fuck, a needle, sleep, repeat; Logan lived a lavish, hedonistic lifestyle and he was in control; he decided when he’d do the drugs, how much he’d indulge in how often. He decided.

That point in his life had passed. Logan was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar, not even to himself. He was a failure, a junkie, the regrettable piece of shit his father had no qualms reminding him of. Here you are, Jim. Take a look at your son.

Logan’s lip curled in disgust at the mere thought of his father, and the only reason he let himself think of that wretched bastard as his father was strictly biological. He had never and would never be a “dad”; he didn’t have the capacity. “You’re a disappointment,” he muttered, words James Delos had directed toward Logan so many times, he should be desensitized by now. Should be. “You’re a piece of shit, Logan. This company will never be yours. You’re a junkie.”

A junkie. Logan flicked the light blue, plastic Bic lighter on, lifting his thumb seconds later and extinguishing the flame. He was mesmerized by the immediate lighting and extinguishing of the flame, allowing himself to get lost in the simplicity and complexity of creating fire with one finger. The spoon he used for cooking the powder down into a liquid was right there by the baggie Logan was considering. Fuck it, he thought, and he tossed the lighter onto his desk carelessly, feet hitting the floor and propelling his chair closer toward the table.

One large hand scooped up both the baggie and silver spoon— Logan relished in the fact that one of Jim’s overly expensive, custom made silver spoons was a constant in his heroin kit— a whisky tumbler half-filled with days’ old water, and a hypodermic needle. Leaning down closer to the desk’s mahogany surface, the baggie was unzipped, spoon perched between his thin and index finger on the ready. The tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth in concentration, he tapped the plastic bag until he was satisfied with the amount of white powder that spilled out into his spoon. Baggie set aside, traded out for the needle, he drew up a small amount of water, slowly filling the spoon, the remaining water shot out into the garbage can kept under his desk.

He needed that lighter again, and he carefully reached for the spot it had landed when he’d tossed it, the far corner of his desk. He balanced the spoon precariously as he retrieved the lighter and an expression of arrogance and pride passed over his features, vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. Logan was ritualistic in the way he used heroin, and preparing it was a big part of that. This was one of those times Logan preferred not to experience; his craving had turned into a need, an essential substance with a vice so strong, it brought with it an overwhelming anxiety. His hand trembled as he held the lighter beneath the spoon. His palms were damp with sweat; he was agitated and his arm itches like he’d been covered in fire ants. The Delos estate could have been on fire and Logan would remain sitting with the task at hand. Nothing else mattered.

Finally, the heroin was liquified. Eagerly, he dipped the tip of his needle into the shallow solution, slowly drawing the drug into the syringe. He dropped the spoon with a clatter, turned the needle point upward and tapped on the side of the syringe. Tiny air bubbles appeared atop the solution and Logan slowly, carefully, tediously applied pressure to the plunger until a drop of the solution dripped from the needle. Any air had been evacuated. It was time.

Logan was shaking, both from anticipation and need. Small beads of sweat were beginning to appear at his brow. With his sacred drug—his lifeline— he pushed his desk chair back, standing and taking long strides to reach the other side of his expansive bedroom.

He didn’t even pause as he flipped the light switch to illuminate his walk-in closet, full of expensive designer casual wear, but mostly with suits— Brioni and Gucci, Tom Ford and Burberry. Neat rows of impeccable shoes were lined up perfectly by shade and style. But Logan noticed none of this. He had tunnel vision, and he went straight for his tie rack. He needed a silk tie, easy to knot yet strong enough that it wouldn’t break while serving its purpose.

Snatching a tie he knew would do the trick, he allowed it to unroll itself as he left his closet. Holding the capped syringe between his teeth, he used both hands to hold each end of the necktie to his upper arm, at the halfway point of his elbow and bicep. Deftly, he knotted it around his arm securely, but with enough give to unknot easily when it was time. An authentic Stefano Ricci, Jim. 100% silk. Easily over $1500. Your junkie, ticking time bomb, fucking failure of a son doesn’t skimp on the details: designer ties as tourniquets to shoot up his pure, white heroin. Only the best for a Delos. Right, dear old dad?

He felt his lip curl in disgust as he sat back in his chair, syringe still held between two rows of perfectly straight, startlingly white teeth. Pumping his left fist several times over— open and squeeze, open and squeeze— he watched as his skin below the tourniquet began to discolor. With two long fingers of his right hand, he struck his forearm several times, barely noticing the very visible track marks at the crook of his elbow, the newer one that was halfway up the inside of his forearm. He was looking for a vein.

Bingo.

There it was, popped out and bulging, an inch below the crook of his elbow, a long patch of skin free of any track marks or puncture wounds. Not for long. His teeth gave way as he reached for the waiting syringe holding the one thing in his life that gave Logan back the love he felt for it. If— when— it killed him, he’d die feeling un-fucking-touchable. His only regret would be missing the opportunity of Jim Delos’ horrendous smile at the sight of his only son’s corpse.

It was miraculous the way Logan could manage to steady his shaking to inject. He bit at the orange cap over the needle, spitting it off to the side. Holding the syringe precariously like a cigarette between forefinger and middle finger, he dipped his head to hold a dangling part of his tie between his teeth, just as he had the needle.

With one sting of the needle puncturing his pale skin, Logan yanked his head back, the loose knot he’d tied in his RIcci necktie unraveling and falling away. It was a deep red, the color of ox blood, and a bitter laugh escaped from low in his throat. And then, Logan pushed the plunger.

By the time he finished and tossed the used needle and syringe to the side, Logan was only able to lick the residual drop of blood from his arm when the rush began. There was the familiar warmth coursing along with the circulation of his blood, from the core of his body down into the tips of his toes and fingers. Without a warning, Logan felt and indescribable euphoria that nothing could hold a candle to, not even an almost violent orgasm causing his entire body to quake.

Heroin was a paradox. With the euphoria came a sense of calm and a heaviness of his body. With the pleasure would come the pain. Everything eventually collided, but Logan relished in the crash. He needed it, and he accepted that. The only thing he could rely on was something that would never refuse him what he sought out. The only thing that wouldn’t pulverize his heart and his pride, wound him with a hole too deep to heal.

The heaviness and calm gave way to any sense of strength, Logan’s head falling back and rolling from side to side at the back of his leather desk chair until it fell slightly to the right. He was unable to keep his eyes from closing, long hair falling over his forehead as he nodded. An amalgamation of jumbled, broken thoughts floated through his mind, past the fog of disorientation that would inevitably fade into sleep: Wrong… this is the wrong door.. where’s the fucking.. it’s the wrong world. This is all an illusion.

#in the line of fire #part 3 #itlof3 #logan delos #tw: drug use #my writing

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notcatherinemorland · 5 years ago

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More Hamlet Thoughts because i leave everything to the 11th hour . production continues to be the 2018 globe w/ Michelle Terry

Hamlet and Ophelia’s uhhhhh fight

Ham’s personality twists into cruel mockery of her at the line ‘Where’s your father’ and OHO the facial expressions

Ophelia kept trying to hold onto Hamlet’s hand and body and curl her fingers around hamlet’s hand and it was very heartbreaking . Hamlet was a ball of chaotic energy who scrabbled her hands off himself. rlly interesting to watch

this turned around with hamlet scrubbing over her face as he presents her to the audience’s 4th wall for the make up lines. and shoves her down to the floor at the end

the physical manipulation hamlet takes out on ophelia is a super interesting segue to the players scene

2 b / x 2 b

ham sat in the middle of the front of the stage and held the hand of an audience member who he talked he speech to. very intimate and closed and really interesting interpretation

im a nerd so i really like the juxtaposition of such a grand and philosophical speech being told on such an intimate and small scale

Hamlet’s still got his smudged clown makeup on

hamlet and horatio come across Very gay in the ‘something too much of this’ line. i vibe

hamlet decimated his friendship with R&G and i LOVED how Horatio held him and then forced him away to give him just a touch more character. this Ht loved R&G as well and i appreciate the bit of character we all try to give horatio

Horatio’s Emotions over R&G’s impending death is a++ give this man some emotional range

OH the ‘if your mind dislike anything, obey it’ can we PLEASE listen to horatio the lone voice of reason within elsinor’s halls

that’s not me being gay, that’s a legit analysis of Hamlet in that everyone in Elsinor has a twisted sense of reality and morality and Horatio as an outsider is immune and must watch in horror

the argument is flawed with R&G but hey it’s not my theory.

THE TRUMPETS . there’s live trumpets

the music they played to signal the half time of the play was wonderfully dissonant and i VIBE WITH THAT that is the ENERGY of Elsinor right there

honestly im annoying and i don’t particularly care for the play scene as an audience member. like academically the play within a play is rife with analysis but like. to just sit and watch it feels like such a halt in the energy

plus i really dislike it when they use gross physical comedy in the dumb-show because again. im annoying

anyway they only do the dumb-show (more tollerable than a lot) and they use drum beats and purcussion in place of lines, and have hamlet explain what’s going on with his lines. it’s certainly different and its a lot quicker than the text is

This Claudius is Prime Smarmy Politicians and is very indignant as he tries to pray and i REALLY LIKE HIM

The scene transitions are .. non existent in this play and i LIKE IT

the lines follow on immediately between scenes as the other characters are leaving the stage

i love how it supports the theme of acting this play has and how it breaks down the barrier for the audience of personal vs private

thats not quite what i want to say uhhhhh. in other productions some of the scenes are really discreet from each other- like how pearl necklaces have stoppers between the pearls- and that’s especially evident in films, but here it’s the opposite and the scenes bleed into each other to create a really fast paced and chaotic energy and i REALLY LIKE IT

‘personal vs private’ is on god my favourite theme in hamlet and the way it works with the audience creating it here is GREAT

Closet scene... OH BOY

this hamlet is CRUEL oml

the ghost enters after hamlet spends 3 minutes berating his mother and she’s crying on the floor by the audience and hamlet immediately stops and starts weeping

‘oh save me’ sounds so small and childlike and it really showcases the love between them

not that kind of love, sigmund fucking freud. get your mind out the gutter

the disdain hamlet has for gertrude absolutely breaks my heart but that’s a me thing because i haven’t been able to see my mother in person for coming up on a month due to quarantine :(

added an extra hug before ham leaves .. v sweet

Claudius comes barreling in and picks up ham’s dropped sword. :eye emoji: doesn’t put it down until Hamlet’s brought in for questioning. but he’s still holding a book (english dictionary presumably?) and this act of holding a sword for 2 scenes WILL be reiterated time and time again in ever hamlet essay i write forever to whatever end i so desire because it’s easy to manipulate to my own purposes. bless this moment

There’s a seagull that keeps interrupting claudius at perhaps the funniest possible moments in his soliloquies and honestly WHERE is it’s Olivier

Ophelia’s madness isn’t as explicit as it is in other versions, but watching her tumble into emotions and lack of restraint is so, so heartbreaking.

this is one of the productions of hamlet that makes a really convincing case for ‘madness’ in elsinor being synonymous to speaking one’s mind and being truthful about one’s heightened emotions and like. i Love that interpretation

lets be real i love 99% of hamlet interpretations

the 1% is freud. fuck that guy

I’m Digging the parallel of Ophelia’s emotional outburts of grief (in madness) to Laertes incensed outburst of grief . ohoho

Laertes gets rosemary and pansies, Claudius gets fennel and columbines, Gertrude gets the rue, Audience member gets the daisy and the thought of violets

unfortunately i once wrote a shite poem about gertrude and weather she know of the poison in the cup at the end and unfortunately that’s all i can think about for the last 40 mins of the play hfdhgjgghjhgj

im annoying so i read along with the play and the duets Claudius and Laertes make of the meter and the word formatting on the page comes across really different on stage, which is super interesting.

not to be really fucking dramatic but i read in the info packet of this play that the pillars on the stage are actually tree trunks carved and painted to look like marble and considering how many times i had to hear the words ‘appearance vs reality’ in my english class, i think im allowed to use the smirk emoji about how the setting of the globe is Integral to Hamlet as a play

i am itching to write an entire 4000 word tirade about the use of the physical body in hamlet because between the actual acting on stage, polonius, ‘one auspicious and one dropping eye’ and all whole host of references made to physical body parts i am going feral

PLUS this one incorporates sign language

i actually hate the word incorporates but needs must

The Ophelia’s death speech is of course wonderful, but i can’t stop thinking about how John Everett Millais made his model (who’s name escapes me in a terrible irony because i got this information from an exhibition about the female pre-raphalites) sit in a cold bath for hours on end whilst he sketched and it made her very ill because the fire went out and she was sat nude in a bath of cold water for hours.

Gravedigger only has the songs and the hamlet interaction, and he wears a high vis jacket. he’s also played by the ghost’s actor, which whilst understandable in such a small cast, amuses me greatly

Hamlet’s got his hair tied back and in a military style jacket, and marches around with Horatio who’s in a hoodie and a black duffle coat (absolutely a student) and the same tight plait. Ham’s definitely meant to be sane now, he speaks very brusquely and all but marches around the stage

Not To Make An Edelgard Reference But edelgard’s cause in 3H was also cemented by a timeskip and a military outfit and a brusque personality hehehe

Hamlet gets into the ‘grave’ to chat to Yorick which, again, i will use in every relevant essay i will write and manipulate this scene to whatever end i desire and on god i thank this production for this

a level me would have gone feral

current me is also going feral

Grave Scene: a terrible one for your family to walk in and ask what the fuck you’re watching

Polonius’ actor plays the priest. yes, capsule wardrobe of a cast, i know but i’m an english student it’s my duty to wring every irrational inch of analysis out of this thing

i won’t trail on about unsubstaniated interpretations of Polonius’ parenting skills and fate in Hamlet but on god i will find an essay about it

i always enjoy it when someone leaps in the grave .. the melodrama... the meaning... the liminal spaces...

the DRAMA of seperating feral laertes and the really calm and imposing hamlet is excellent and a bit hilarious and the camera is going nuts

i’m very aware that everyone is now traipsing about over the grave in the middle of the stage and THAT’S a fun dynamic you don’t get from film or text

ok I’ve just noticed the video has the ‘top chat replay’ going and the very first line i saw is ‘what if hamlet had tiktok’ and i am CRYING

Ophelia’s actor also plays Osric and is a) absolutely hilarious and b) again, capsule wardrobe of a cast will not stop me from analysing everything and anything this play may or may not offer me.

im not saying hamlet is a play about inheritance and the burden of it, but also... isn’t it :eye emoji:

if bloody fire emblem fates can do it so can i, step off

Fencing scene: oh thank god it’s nearly over

The hearts on their fencing get ups parallel Hamlet’s clown outfit with a heart on the sleeve Very Nicely

Gertrude isn’t wearing her headpiece anymore .. ohoho dispelling the trappings and suits of dishonesty, if you will

The duel is a) bloody terrifying because sword fighting and b) judged by Osric (Ophelia) and the poetry of having ham & lae’s duel waged over and judged by Ophelia is absolutely excellent

Claudius’s aside (or to laertes? camera didn’t follow) had no right to be as humorous as it was jdfsghfkd

Gertrude figured out it was poison in this one. Nice

I like the call and response effect of ‘Treachery! Seek it out! / It is here Hamlet’ they made with Hamlet running around they stage to find little propped up Laertes

The dramatic eye contact of Hamlet and Claudius as he forces him to drink the poison.... OH HECK YES

the way they sink to the floor in a pair, with hamlet crawling over his body to make sure he dies... oh LORD

the swing hamlet does with his arm to the audience to cast them as ‘the unsatisfied’ was EXCELLENT and i would like that in every production of hamlet please

the tussle of horatio and hamlet over the cup..... iconic.... and i enjoy the parallel of that to hamlet with claudius as they’re stood in the same corner

The harsh projection of Hamlet’s voice and the blunt manner of his words about Fortinbras’ inheritance of denmark against the soft way Horatio rocks Hamlet back and forth ... i want to CRY

Horatio got to have emotional range in this production .. wonderful

i always enjoy the way the play tails off with politics in a room of dead bodies.. the layers the absolute onions

how none of the drama within the castle has any meaning to anyone outside of it is Excellent

and then the way the prison and enclosure of elsinor is finally broken with military force in parallel to the tumultuous interpersonal relationships within it... i vibe yet more

they actually ended with ‘go bid the soldiers shoot’ which i enjoy a lot!!!! and the music is wonderful

then they all start doing this dance which i think is meant to be about the themes of the play and to be perfectly honest it’s a bit crunchy for me but the music absolutely slaps!!!

final thoughts:

that sure was a hamlet production and i thought it had a lot of heart and did some new things very very well!!!

and i loved the emphasis they put on the costuming!!!!

overall: a solid hamlet. very nice. i greatly enjoyed it!!!!

#hamlet blogging #OH BOY THIS IS LONG THIS IS SO LONG

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heath-ur · 4 years ago

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00Q Kinktober - Day 3

Prompt List ; Ao3 Pairing: Bond x Q Prompt: First Time (between characters) Warnings: Smut, No Beta

One of these days, I will write smut without fluffy filler. Today is not that day. Have a cat.

Q shouldn’t be surprised and he shouldn't be flattered. But he can admit to himself that he’s a bit of both when Bond comes to Q branch after a mission - all swagger and class - and invites Q to dinner. His minions are all aflutter - of course they are - and are quick to point out that he hasn’t seen the sun in 12 hours. Q checks his watch. It’s 21:00. He wouldn’t see the sun even if he did leave now. He gives R a look.

R just nods very seriously and ushers him out the door. He spends a moment thinking if he should give her a raise or threaten to fire her.

The dinner goes well. Bond takes him to a quiet family restaurant and the first thing he does is pull a piece of folder paper from his suit jacket pocket and place it on the table. “As I remember from last time, you’re a fan of full-disclosure.”

Q takes the paper and opens it, a line of medical tests and results listed down the length. All negative. Q smirks and hands the paper back, “Well, I suppose I have time after dinner.”

The air is charged but they don’t rush. They talk about poetry, weapons, and cats. Q admits to having 2 cats of his own. Bond looks unfathomably pleased. Bond has been keeping his glass will-provided; he isn’t drunk but he is considerably looser than he was only an hour ago. He thinks, fuck it, and asks, “Woud you like to meet them?”

Bond legitimately freezes for a moment. “Are you sure that’s wise? I was going to offer a nice night at The Savoy.”

Q hums. “That does sound nice. However, I haven’t seen my cats in 14 hours and I can’t think of a single reason to hide my apartment from you.” He starts ticking off his fingers. “You’re one of my agents, I’m tempted enough to say I hope this is not the last time we…” He rolls his wrist looking for the word before giving up and continuing the list, “my only living attachments are cats, chances are you’ve already followed me home at least once, so you have at least an idea of where I live, and I do consider myself good enough at both my job and my pleasures to consider myself safe from any animosity. Add that to the fact that if you do injure me, M will reign the entirety of MI6 upon you.” Q shrugs. “I’m not that concerned about you knowing where I live.”

~*~

They crash through the door to Q’s apartment, lips locked and wrapped up in each other, Q clawing at the back of Bond’s suit as he leads them through the door and living room, attempting through sheer will to get them to the bedroom.

Of course, he’s tripped up by Gambit, enough that he should have been sent sprawling except for the quick reflexes of the Double-Oh. Q curses and with Bonds help, rights himself. Q glaces quickly around for Zugzwang, but he must be hiding from the commotion.

“Well hullo,” Bond goes to his knees. For Q’s cat. Q needs a moment to recalibrate his life as Bond eagerly scratches along the black beast’s back and that one white spot above his tail.

Q does not pout. “You have 2 minutes to cuddle the little monster before you start fucking me.” He crosses through the living room and into the bedroom, shedding clothes as he goes, unashamed.

“You’re just the most dashing little fellow, aren’t you? Yes you are.” Q can hear Bond fawn over Gambit. “But I’ve to seduce your papa so he can allow me back. Yes I do. Mmm-hmm,” he cooes.

Q does not melt. He doesn’t. You’re melting. Q crawls onto the bed and flops onto his back, watching the doorway. When Bond walks through and sees him naked, his eyes heat and he closes the door against Gambit. Good instincts. Otherwise the heathen would stare unnervingly from the dresser. Q wiggles against his pillows. “You’re supposed to be seducing me.”

Bond gins. “So I am.” He slowly removes his suit jacket, folding it precisely before draping it across the dresser at the foot of the bed. Next goes his tie. Then his cufflinks, which are stashed into his pants pockets. Q makes a noise in the back of his throat and reaches down to palm his cock.

“You’re convincing me. Keep going.”

Bond chuckles and begins unbuttoning his shirt, slinking it off. Then his trousers and pants are shucked off at the same time, folded loosely and placed atop his suit. Q abscently wonders where his shoes went, but that doesn’t matter as Bond prowls closer to the bed, standing close enough to touch the duvet with his thighs as he looks upon Q.

Q gets that look at his cock that he didn’t get to have the first time. Bond must be a grower and not a shower, because as he watches, the cock in front of him is still filling out. Proportionately girthier than long, but still long enough to get the job done quite nicely.

Q reaches out for him, and Bond starts the short crawl to rest above him, palms sliding across his pale skin, his valleys and swells. Q quivers, and smiles. “Fuck me.”

Bond’s laugh sounds more like a growl as he drops to his elbows and nips at Q’s lips. “With pleasure.” They lose themselves in kissing for a while before Q gets impatient and begins wiggling away, reaching out to his nightstand to pull a bottle of lube and a condom from the top drawer and slaps both against Bond’s chest.

Bond gets back to his knees and pops open the lube to spill it across his fingers, watching Q’s reactions the whole time. Q spreads his legs wider, opening himself up to the scrutiny. He reaches his hands up to his pillow to twist and pull on his own hair, excited and expectant.

The first finger is questing; it circles and pushes gently at his entrance. At Q’s fussy sound, Bond presses it in fully and Q sighs in answer. “More,” Q demands.

Bond responds with a short laugh and another finger, pushing and gliding and perfect. Q rolls his hips and bares down to feel the fingers twitch and scissor before crooking just there and …. Q moans, his heels planting themselves to keep him suspended just there, with the fingers pressing perfect against his prostate. “Yess…”

Bond begins withdrawing his fingers and Q tenses, ready to argue to get those fingers back. But Bond is just removing them to add a third in a smooth slide all the way to the webbing.

Q rolls his hips twice more, drilling the fingers into himself instead of waiting for Bond to do the moving. “Yes, yes. I’m ready. Come on.”

Bond chuckles and bites into Q’s collarbone chidingly, but removes his fingers to get the condom on. Some additional lube, and he’s propping Q’s arse onto his own knees and situating his cock against Q’s entrance. Q stops rolling to make the aiming easier, and sighs in contentment as Bond slides in as one smooth glide.

Bond settles himself more fully against Q’s body, his elbows propped by Q’s head as they share kisses and breath, waiting for Q to adjust. It doesn’t take long; Q wraps his legs around Bond’s hips, heels digging into Bonds thighs as he prompts Bond to thrust.

And, oh, does Bond deliver. He pushes himself back onto his knees and grips Q’s hips. He uses full, rough thrusts that hit just where Q needs them. The noises he lets out are accidental and primal; little uh-uh-uhs that break into whines when Bond switches his rhythm to something just a little faster.

Q can’t think; he’s getting to that space of need-need-need that feels overwhelming but also welcomed. He writhes and clutches onto Bond’s hips more fully with his legs. His hands are gripping, scraping, pulling - at his own scalp, at Bond’s arms and shoulders, at the bedding below him. He doesn’t… can he come like this, without Bond touching his cock? Does he want to try? He just wants to come.

He wants to come. He doesn’t recognize the ragged sob that comes out of his mouth or the babbling that follows. “Let me come. Let me come.”

Bond just shakes his head and states, “Not yet.” Q smacks a hand against Bond’s shoulder and reaches for his own cock.

Quick as a snake, Bond takes the offending hand and pins it next to Q’s head with his own bodyweight. “Patience,” he demands, pressing his face into the hollow of Q’s neck to nibble at the skin there. Worse, he slows his rhythm to a gentle roll; still hitting Q’s prostate, but with hardly any power.

Q cries in frustration and struggles some more, getting his other hand captured. He drums his heels into the bedding on either side of Bond’s calves and writhes to no relief before he goes limp. He’s suddenly so damn tired and he’s sweating and the sheets itch beneath him and he just wants to come.

Bond smiles gently, so gently, something that transforms his entire face and deepens all of those laugh lines around his eyes. It punches the breath out of Q. And only then does Bond pick up his pace, firm and steady and Q feels so damn full. Every so often, Bond will hitch his hips just to grind his cock just right against Q’s prostate and Q can hear the filthy squelch of the lube now that he is no longer fighting.

Q rolls his head back and forth across his pillow and tries to catch his breath through the hitching in his chest; through the feeling of his cock sliding through the hot and humid tunnel they’ve made of their bodies, the bump of Bond’s abs and navel; through the feeling of Bond’s cock sliding against his inner walls in a way he can’t quite predict, tapping and touching his prostate.

“Oh... oh… oh,” He sighs out softly and closes his eyes to feel everything. He feels, rather than hears, the rumble coming from Bond’s chest.

“That’s it, Q. Come for me.” He grinds just there, both his cock and abs rubbing just right and oh…

Q moans through his orgasm, fingers and muscles twitching gently but none holding tension for long. Bond stays still long enough for the flashes to clear from Q’s vision before he pushes up to see Q more fully, grinding his still-hard cock, question in his eyes. Q groans and throws his arm over his eyes but nods. “Yeah, yeah. Come on. Come on.” He rolls his hips in encouragement but otherwise keeps himself pliant.

“That was lovely, wonderful. Thank you,” Q clenches around Bond’s cock purposefully despite the lingering oversensitivity. Bond's breath becomes harder and hitches. Q clenches gently again and removes his arms from his eyes to watch Bond’s face. Their eyes meet and Q flutters his eyes closed again at a particularly rough thrust as Bond slips back on his elbows. “Yeah, can’t you feel it? I’m so fucked out, so..,” his voice croaks, “so loose. So good,” he croons in Bond’s ear, sliding his teeth across the lobe.

Bond groans and his cock pulses, the last few pushes erratic and sloppy. Q finds the strength to card his hands into Bond’s hair and hums. A few silent moments later and Bond slips out of Q’s hole to the accompaniment of Gambit’s meow at the closed door.

Q watches the fond grin spread across Bond’s face as he stands up and steps to the bathroom, cleaning himself and bringing a rag over to assist cleaning Q. Then Bond goes over, still completely naked, and opens the door for Gambit.

#00q fanfiction #00q #00q fic #james bond #quartermaster

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itsanerdlife · 6 years ago

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Distracted

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Warning: None. Day dreams and dirty thoughts.

You’re hopelessly distracted when Eggsy is anywhere near you. Your mind slips down the rabbit hole, leaving you watching Eggsy like a horny teen. Eggsy’s taken notice to your distracted state when he’s around, leaving you fumbling for a response.

Your head tips softly to the side. Your teeth tug on the edge of your bottom lip. His full lips turn up in that sigh worthy smirk. Green eyes so terribly distracting, like rolling hills of gorgeous. Your tongue grazes your bottom lip, raking your teeth over it once more. Taking in his sweat drenched T-shirt, clinging to his sculpted chest, his biceps hugged tightly by the sleeves.

You fantasize what it would be like to feel the flex of them under your hands, as his own hands roamed your figure. You wonder what it would feel like running your hands through his gorgeous dirty blonde hair. Were his lips as soft as they looked? Would they sear your skin with dirty kisses?

“Hey Y/N.” He grins walking by. You swallow, blinking. Heat rushing your cheeks, you tuck your hair behind your ear. Taking deep breathes, trying to focus again.

“Hey Eggsy.” You practically pant. When he turns the corner, you drop back into your chair sighing loudly. You were a hot mess of distraction when Eggsy was any where close to you. “So pathetic.” You mutter.

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

Your skin warms. You latch on to you bottom lip. Memorizing the shape of his lips. The little way the corners of his mouth turn up as he speaks. A warm ball in your stomach builds just listening to him speak. His hand comes up adjusting his tie. Your skin goose bumps as it slips farther down the rabbit hole. Wondering how it would feel, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you into him.

“Y/N?” His brow lifts. The rabbit hole drops you like a hot pan.

“Huh?” You blink at him. Your brows lifting, eyes widening. You clear your throat, trying to control the blush building under your skin.

“You okay?” He smiles, and your knees practically knock together. Fuck.

“Great.” You laugh, awkwardly. Running a hand through your hair, trying to focus. “Sorry I was, ah, distracted. Could you repeat that once more for me?” You smile, blushing. Eggsy chuckles, making you smile.

“I can repeat it for you, no problem.” He grins, leaning in on your desk. You slip back into the rabbit hole. Watching his arms tense up, your fingers itch to grip his tie and press your lips to his grinning mouth. “You with me still?” He flashes that crooked grin, you release your bottom lip you hadn’t noticed you’d been biting again.

“I am.” You nod, staring into green eyes. You tear your eyes away, trying to calm your blood pressure.

“You do that a lot, huh?” He grins, chuckling softly.

“What?” Your eyes snap up to his face, surprised.

“Get distracted.” His lips tug up. You cross your legs, looking for some, minor moment of relief.

“Depends.” You smirk.

“How about I write it down for you. That way, when you forget, it’ll be right there for you.” He picks up a pen and turns your note pad around.

“That would be helpful.” You flush, pulling your bottom lip in. He quickly writes down whatever it was he was talking about. When he looks up at you again, you’re still chewing your bottom lip.

“That’s a bad habit.” He smirks, his thumb coming up. He frees your bottom lip with a small tug. But you’ve stopped breathing at the simple touch. Your skin burst into flames at the feeling of his skin on yours. The feeling seeping into your skin and bones. “I’ll come by after lunch and check on you.” He chuckles, walking away. Your skin still on fire where he’d touched you. Your fingertips press against your bottom lip, as you stare in shock after him.

“Least of my bad habits.” You whisper to yourself. Picking up the note pad he’d written on.

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

Your heart hammered in your chest. Your blood warmed and your teeth sank into your bottom lip. Eggsy laughs, picking up his T-shirt, pulling it over his head. You watch the material slink over his torso, meeting his jeans resting on his hips. His dirty blonde hair, disheveled and unkempt. Your fingers itched to run through it. You slipped down the rabbit hole quickly, falling into fantasy and day dreams.

The fresh scent of men’s cologne envelops you suddenly. When you focus again, Eggsy is no longer standing where he was, he’s leaning on the wall next to you. Watching you with curious green eyes, and a cocky smirk. Your mouth opens to speak, but there’s nothing going on in your brain. It’s blank, empty, but for the filthy thoughts you had been having of Eggsy.

“I’ve noticed something.” He nods, folding his arms over his chest. He leans on one shoulder facing you. Your lips move, but nothing comes out still. You press your lips together, trying to remember how to speak again. “You watch me, often.” He smirks. Your mouth opens briefly, before closing again. You couldn’t deny that, it wasn’t like you’d been very good at hiding what you were doing.

“Oh.” Was the only thing to cross your lips.

“You always seem to be very distracted. Yet, I’ve never had anyone look at me like that.” He chuckles. He’s so close, his laugh practically vibrates through you.

“Um.” You swallow. What was with your brain? Words! Speak! Something!

“If you keep it up I’m going to have to do something about it.” He flashes that crooked grin at you. Rabbit hole pulls you in. Your lips purse, moving slowly, as you fumble for something not from your day dreams. You try to avoid looking him in the eye, worried what might fall out of your mouth if you slipped any farther down the rabbit hole. You swallow, nodding.

“I’ll, get that in, check.” You manage to get out. He laughs, shaking his head. You’re lost in the shape of his grin, on his lips when suddenly they’re on your own. Soft, electric and so much better than day dreams.

“Oh.” Was all that came out when he pulled back.

“You were looking at me like that. So I did something about it.” He smiles.

“Then, I’m not sorry.” You blush. He grins, leaning in slowly.

“I never said I had a problem with it love.” He smirks.

“Well, then.” You run a hand through your hair. Your mind still on the kiss, the feeling still lingering on your lips.

“Distracted?” He grins, watching you.

“Yeah.” You nod, sucking in a breathe.

“Good.” He laughs softly.

Leaning in, catching your lips with his own once more. You melt into him, hands on his chest, relishing in the rush of feelings you had. Enjoying what was so much better than your day dreams.

Everything Peaches 2/6/19: @mo320 @all1e23 @irepeldirt @alyssaj23 @allyp1023 @joannie95 @kolakube9 @rileyloves5 @sarahp879 @pcterpvrker @pigwidgexn @abschaffer2 @nickimarie94 @teller258316 @wandressfox @amandab-ftw @henrietteoaks @nea90sweetie @circusofchaos @bettercallsabs @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @destiel-artemis @paintballkid711 @iwillbeinmynest @teaand-cookies @sweet-honey15 @spookygrantaire @geeksareunique @supernatural508 @mellxander1993 @sammysgirl1997 @itzmegaaaaaaan @mariekoukie6661 @capsheadquaters @samanthasmileys @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @petersunderoos96 @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx @writingaworldofmyown @sprinklesandsugarcubes @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @stupendoussciencenaturepanda @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety

Eggsy Tag List 8/23/18: @courtmr @rockagurl @poetsheart @kgbrenner @dkpink123 @xlatinaaxx @sgarrett49 @ingridsigne @kazuha159 @breezy1415 @bellamouse16 @emilymorganb @cece-lives-here @orange-jps3497 @paranoiadestroyah @nerdyandexhausted @deanwinchestersrifle @fandomsstolemylife00 @hunter-demigod-timelord

#Kingsman #Eggsy Unwin x Reader #Kingsman Fanfiction #Eggsy x Reader #Distracted #Eggsy Unwin One Shot #Kingsman One Shot #Eggsy One Shot

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wammys-house-a · 6 years ago

Text

Page 257 – Dear Truth;

Woke at 5:36. It almost feels like spring.

I put on tight black gloves and see the perfect obsidian contrast with my skins muted hues of living cream, blue lines, and salmon furrows and think to myself … how disgusting and sorrowful it is, someone else’s inked hide. It’s surface barely holds the chill of winter that still hangs in the atmosphere, nothing beneath the surface to warm it.

The tag inside is faded a sickly gold.

It reads g e n u i n e. India.

The threads are loosely stitched inside at the wrists where my pulse would thrum against the seam and itch. Death’s caress.

I pull the knife from my boot,

the usual affirmation of my boyishness isn’t there,

I’ve forgotten to be who I’m trying to be.

I hesitate.

— Not because it’s not in me to free this remnant of their body from my wardrobe but because I know their parts would out last their natural life, even if it had not been cut short.

Does that matter?

Would I want someone wearing me, if it kept them warm or made them feel better to hide their bony fingers?

Would it matter if it was a stranger? Would it matter if I only had the capacity of a child and no appreciation of a greater purpose? Would it matter if I had no choice? What if I had no autonomy, if I was helpless and had done nothing wrong, if it was merciless and my want for integrity didn’t matter because I didn’t matter ?

Would it matter then?

I cut the thread.

I buried the pieces of Stranger in the flower bed.

The earth was as black as ink but intermingled are white specks of perlite, decaying wood chips, crawling life surfacing and slipping back into the earth like dolphins traveling in the surf.

The soil holds the chill of the atmosphere, but it is so terribly alive.

____ 1 1 : 2 1

Today; the evaluation.

Passing was within B’s capacity, it must be in mine. They’re not looking for h e a l t h y , they are looking for proof that this experiment is working.

I wasn’t dishonest, I don’t need to be when B would outshine any of my perceived pathologies. I’m mundane, when the next patient in line has smeared the ashes of a candle’s wick under his eyes and pretends he doesn’t smell like cheap vanilla.

Their psychiatrist wanted to know if I feel confident in my abilities, if I feel challenged, if I feel aligned with my identity,

I’m fine.

But, I struggle with communicating my feelings.

I get mealy mouthed, distracted by my own self awareness; how I must sound, what they’re thinking, I begin to second guess the value of my words – if what I say is even necessary to hear; I watch their face for reaction.

—– Does the open, unthinking stare mean they too are wondering what my intentions are in speaking?

The psychiatrist recommended I try writing those thoughts out, make them more tangible and give it form that I can fully grasp. He said it would give me enough time to think, shorten the rattling preamble, eliminate the urgency to get to the point that leaves me stumbling trying to reach it in nervous haste.

They suggested writing what I thought out, like a letter to a person to never send .

I said I would try it.

Dear G o d ,

It took six months for the freshness of it to wear off, and people began to reassure me that the loss of my family was part of a g r e a t e r plan. Like an event meant to shape me, turn me into someone that the world needed -- my sacrificial metamorphosis, cocoons from coffins.

There had to be something to salvage from it, I only needed to keep looking. They were somehow a lesson I didn’t understand, but I would in time.

That only left me asking, why did they have to be my lesson?

That’s not fair.

What lesson was worth two lives?

They didn’t deserve that.

But, that was before.

I know better now.

I no longer ask questions like ‘why did they have to be my lesson’. -- How can anyone believe in God’s plan if they know there are thousands of starving children, born to parents that did not want them, that cannot not feed them.

--- How can anyone concluded that a just God gifts life to children only to doom them to death by starvation in infancy?

Where is God’s plan when mothers mutilate their children because culture supersedes their logic?

-- When there are Children trapped in concrete debris in the aftermath of storms, their minds so choked on sepsis, they hallucinate running late to class in their last lucid moments of consciousness?

-- Or when innocent creatures wander into mud lands to become trapped and eaten alive by predators that pull their ears from their bellowing bodies .. ?

-- Or when humans throw them into pits to be set on fire as a preemptive measure against disease -- denied a sorrowful destiny as captives born into this world to decorate the plates of those too cowardly to look-them-in-the-face-as-they-die-with-the-slack-jawed,-stunned-gazes-that-ask;

‘ how did it come to this ? ’

It was a stupid question to ask.

There are no lessons worth the cost of children’s innocence, or the empty gazes of dead friends where faith goes to die, or any thing to learn from the dyed hides of strangers that didn’t deserve it.

The truth is, I don’t deserve the comfort I have,

there is nothing so special about me that I couldn’t have been one of those that you forgot to b l e s s with the tiny mercy of dying in their sleep.

This isn’t survivors guilt. There is too much pain in this world for me to ask, why I live and others die ; to ask that would be to acknowledge that this system isn’t senseless, it is e v i l .

I suppose I was right, wondering if anything coming from my mouth is even necessary to hear.

-- What good do I expect you knowing all this will do?

Maybe I have thinly veiled this behind Dear God so it doesn’t feel so egocentric. I’m speaking with myself, there’s something I want him to understand.

I want him to know there’s being savagely honest with one’s self is liberating.

When you’re honest, the truth doesn’t hide in your chest like sleeping disease.

Truth is terrifying, but living in ignorance has never exempted me from living in a world where these truths exist, closing my eyes will not make it cease to be.

I don’t want to be a person that can only see myself as benevolent through self-serving assurance and questions remained unasked.

I want to see the world clearly, so I can find where injustice lives and bring it to an end.

God, I can’t wait on you, I have never had eternity.

#Death Note #a (death note)#death note a #wammys house #entries

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iamsonyeondone · 7 years ago

Text

heir! seventeen // choi seungcheol

♥ so fluffy!!!

♥ 2 k words

♥ summary: the student body president always had something for you but with you being too oblivious, you simply needed a little bit of help noticing

ok lemme tell you about our leader choi seungcheol

Not only does he have the most beautiful faces I've seen in my entire life, this boy is a dedicated student committee president of Pledis High, an elite school in Seoul

And he's also the second heir to his father's business in Daegu!!

As expected of our president, this boy is the nicest honey baby in the entire school like now wonder he has a whole club of fangirls making sure he's eaten and well-rested

I want to be a part of that protection squad thank you very much

and you on the other hand, despite the average family background, you enrolled into Pledis High by a scholarship!! Look at you!! Making me proud!! You smart baby!!!

And as much as you want to have a balanced high school experience, you. just.couldnt.keep.up and instead used all your time studying at the back of the school

hmm?? people say there's a ghost roaming there?? wELL you don't give two shits because no korean ghost will stop you from getting into a college

ever since that rumour was spread around, your favourite study place is always empty and calm and you don't have to face people and put your anxious cute butt to suffer!!

But one day, you hear shuffling of feet behind the pillar that was blocking you and you just?? froze?? WAS IT THE GHOST?? why would it show up after three months?? and nearing your exams wth piss off >:[

"hYung what the heck everything is scattered!!!"

"it wasn't my fault you switched the fan on, soonyoung,"

"yeA bUt you should've warned me first :(("

"can you two just shut up and pick it up?? the SC room ( aka Student Committee) is in worser condition,"

Who?? Are?? They??

Curiosity got the best of you as you peeked from behind the pillar, spotting two boys picking up papers of the ground and you couldn't help but think that the black-haired one looked so familiar?? or maybe you're myopic who knows

As the wind blew, the scattered papers flew along, one of them sweeping under your feet

Until you see a hand reaching out towards it- wait WHAT "whOAH WHo- what are you doing here??" Seungcheol screamed as he tumbled backwards and fell onto his butt, fear evident on his face

Lo and behold black-haired boy was none other than Pledis's student committee president

"w-what why can't i be here?? You don't own this school," what were you even saying?? All you knew was that your fingers were trembling and your feet were rooted to the ground from the sudden ouTbUrst

"oh hi (y/n)," Soonyoung waved towards you with a wide smile crinkling his eyes

"you know her??"

"oh yeah she's my classmate, pretty quiet but the smartest out of all of us," just as Soonyoung was giving a summarized introduction of yourself to him, you glanced back and forth from your classmate and the student committee president with so much confusion

And as much as Seungcheol flew away from your appearance, he was actually just shocked to see you! Because everyone knows you hunny, who else always tops her classes as you internally deteriorate from the lack of sleep omg

Not only because you're one of the smartest but he's always found you interesting?? And pretty cute ;)))

You grabbed the paper beneath your feet and before you know it, you're helping them gather all the materials and,, walking,, up the stairs,,, with them

When was the last time that you were actually on the same pace as someone else??

"how did you even get that maths question on last weeks test?? I almost squished my head trying to figure it out," Soonyoung was flailing his arms, a stack of paper in each hand as you looked over him cautiously, afraid that all of you had to painstakingly sweep all of them up again

"oH uhm it's pretty easy once you memorised all the formulas, its just applying it in the right sequence," and slowly, it was actually pretty easy to talk to your classmate!! Like he's always bursting with energy but he makes sure he isn't crossing the line

And about Seungcheol?? Well, he's too busy trying to grasp the fact that you,,, are beside him,, and your side profile is so mesmerising to watch– until Soonyoung tosses a question his way and he's just???

And both pair of eyes are staring at him but he's more focused on YOUR eyes staring at him and he kinda shortcircuits, stuttering an excuse when he barely gets to his second word

whiPPeD™

and Soonyoung catches oN and kinda just smirks at him, wiggling his eyeborws and all that pizzazz ',:)

"(y/n) why dont you join as at the SC room?? We have some snacks there and since you helped us out, it's the least we could do!!" Soonyoung exclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his eyes gleamed

"sure why not? but I can't stay for long though, I have extra classes in about an hour,"

"yAY CMON LETS GO"

For the next few minutes or so, the boys bickered among one another about the previous incident and you were introduced to Jihoon, the vice president of the student committee

He's pretty cold at first but after a few jokes, Soonyoung making a fool of himself and being a total savage!! he actually becomes a pretty chill person to hang out with

And amongst all the joking around, Seungcheol finAlly opens up and joins the conversation

Like the two of you would've been best buds if he wasn't so enchanted by you and you being so anxious to meet new people

but look at you two now!! laughing and fooling around awww

But fun always comes to an end as your alarm goes off for you to go to your extra classes :(( you wave goodbye and thank them for the snacks, jogging back to your study place to pack of your things and GO

But your routine slowly changes and you always find yourself at the SC room?? Back of the school who??

It's either you're accompanying Jihoon by studying beside him or having your lunch with Soonyoung and talking about the latest class gossip oR helping Seungcheol out by organizing their documents and talking about anything and everything while doing so

A week later and you open the door to the SC room to only see Seungcheol and he looks panicky and distressed by looking at the laptop in front of him and you wonder where the other two went because their stations are clean and their seats were pushed in

"What's with the long face?" you attempt to joke, but your voice didn't hide the worried tone beneath it

As much as you would want to deny it, your feelings developed for him, seeing more than just the president or a friend

And imagining what it would be like to have your fingers intertwined with his or the feeling of his lips on your forehead and enjoying a cuddle session with him

But that's not your priority right now, you took the seat beside him, head tilting slightly to see his features – his eyes squinting, eyebrows furrowed and his lips curling into a frown

"It's just... you know the upcoming charity festival? The one that Pledis always organize at the end of the year? This time they wanted something different and more appealing to teenagers but Pledis have been doing this for more than a decade and it's difficult to choose an idea something that hasn't been used," he rambled on, letting his palms cover the stress etching his features as he groaned and sigh into them

"first things first, calm down, its not the end of the world. Here, drink some water and let your brain rest a little. I'm sure we'll think of something,"

"we?"

"yeah dumbass, it's impossible if you do all of these yourself," you chuckled, taking control over the laptop as you reviewed the past year's themes and the popularity of each year

After much research on the current trends, you managed to write down a few for Seungcheol to shortlist but just as you were about to call out to him, you were greeted by his sleeping figure, his head rested on his arms as you chuckled to yourself

With no one around, your hands itched to brush away his bangs from his eyes

"why do you have to be so hot? Pfft, if i told you that right now, you would probably be a mess and deny it, just like every compliment I've given you," you chuckled, laying your head on the table to get a better view

"as much as your humbleness is attractive, it gets annoying how you don't accept the praise you deserve. Like wth Seungcheol, you're more than just amazing that I'm not worthy of liking you," you mumble, you fingers moving on its own as you brushed his bangs away from his face

"is that all you wanted to say?" he muttered, taking you aback as you jumped slightly in your seat, hand retracting and all in all being a blushing m e s s

"you were awake this whole time?

"i was just resting my eyes, dummy. But now that you mentioned something.." he trailed off, stretching in his seat and looking towards you a small smirk adorning his face while his tinted red ears were a contrast to his sudden confidence

"so you like me?"

"y-yOu didn't hear anything, I was just... Uhmmmm taLKING to the screen,"

"then why were you brushing through my hair?" he chuckled with that smug smirk you desperately want to wipe off

"i dont know Seungcheol!! Maybe dont look so cute when you rest your damn eyes!!" you exclaimed in panic, eyes wide as you huffed, looking away and towards the laptop in front of you

but then you feel a hand guiding your chin to look towards him, your cheeks practically felt like they were on f i r e

"I've waited so long to say this, don't try to brush of your confession now. I like you too (y/n) oh god i probably liked you before we even became friends. You were always so hardworking, doing whatever it took to get what you wanted. Don't even get me started on how gorgeous you are. Can't you tell? I'm whipped for you, (y/n)," he nervously chuckled, biting his bottom lip in anticipation as he waited for your reply

But words seemed to fail you as you watched on, your mouth gaping

Seungcheol leaned in, brushing your lips with his being an absolute tease

And you couldn't handle it any longer, pulling him by the collar as the both of you properly kissed, surprising him as you took his breath away, his heart racing a mile a minute

And all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat against your ears

once you pulled away, you leaned against his chest, weak from feeling his lips against yours as he let out a throaty chuckle

"impatient much, princess?" and the sound of the nickname sends shivers down your spine as you buried your face deeper into his uniform and the heat from your face could possibly start a fire

"You're too cute, what am i going to do with you?" even without having to see his face, you could tell that he had his widest gummy grin plastered on his face and the thought of it brought a smile onto yours

Before you could detach yourself from him, you heard a small thud from behind the door, and the feeling in your gut tells you that something, or somebody, had been there longer than you expected

"soOnyouNg keep it down!! You're gonna give us awAy–"

"bUt HyUng–"

"we should've known we got set up," you groaned, diving into your palms to hide the embarrasment rising to the surface

"well, we wouldn't be here without them, princess," Seungcheol teased, pecking your cheek as you nudged him away yet your bashful smile remained

You wouldn't have it any other way; being in the SC room with your three favourite people.

Of course your dear Seungcheol being the first ;))

A/N: who should i write for the heir! seventeen series next?? :D i also hoped this was fluffy enough because I rewrote this 3 times (i lost it each time :I) but i hope all of you had/is having a nice day ♥

#kpop #imagine #scenario #writing #bulletpoint #fanfic #fanfiction #svt #seventeen #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #s. coups #scenarios #imagines #writings #pledis #17

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flowercrown-bard · 3 years ago

Text

A new us will begin (9/ 12)

word count: 7k

AO3

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 10

A/N: I have done my best to research how to write blind characters. If I still made mistakes, I am sorry and please feel free to tell me so I can correct them. I read that the trope “blind person touches another person’s face to feel what they look like” is a harmful stereotype, so I want to make sure to let you know that any facetouching happening here is no different from all the other times I made Jaskier touch Geralt’s face. It’s a soft “I love you and I want to be near you” thing and not that trope.

Geralt woke up to an uncomfortable swaying motion, not unlike he would feel on a ship. A low groan escaped him and he pressed his cheek tighter against the thing his head was lying on. It was oddly soft and warm. It smelled like home.

Without meaning to, a quiet whine left Geralt’s lips.

Something touched his face, a soft caress on his brow, coming close to the cut he could feel pulsating, but never close enough to hurt.

“It’s alright,” a voice above him said softly. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

“Jaskier…”

The fingers on his brow stilled. After a painfully long heartbeat, they pulled away.

“No! Stay.” Geralt’s arm felt heavier than normal, but he caught the retreating hand nonetheless, bringing it back to his face and pressing it against his cheek. “Don’t leave me, Jaskier.”

A sharp intake of breath above him. The hand on his face began to tremble, but it didn’t pull away again. Geralt turned his head just enough to press a kiss against the palm.

“I’m sorry.” It sounded wrong. Jaskier had nothing to apologise for. He was here and holding Geralt like he was the most precious thing to him. “I’m not Jaskier.”

The words crashed into Geralt like an icy wave.

His eyes shot open, panicked and frantically searching for Jaskier and – there he was. His face was twisted into an unreadable expression, but it was unmistakably him. Who else would let Geralt lay his head in their lap and let him press kisses against their skin?

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier said again, a tremble in his voice. “I wish he could be the first thing you saw when you woke up.”

Geralt’s brows knitted together. His hand went up to caress Jaskier’s cheek, to get him to look at him.

The movement stung in his shoulder, but not as much as it stung his chest when Jaskier winced at his touch.

A smile that didn’t look quite right tugged at Jaskier’s wobbling lips. He looked as if it would only take one wrong word from Geralt to make his tears fall freely.

The unbending urge to comfort him roared through Geralt. His lips formed a word, a name, but it wasn’t the one he had meant to say.

“Dandy…”

Something wet landed on Geralt’s face. He had done something wrong. He had messed it up. Jaskier – Dandy was crying and it was his fault.

But the smile above him – that beautiful, precious smile – became wider.

“It’s me. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Geralt believed him. His hand fell back to his chest and he allowed himself to fall back asleep, trusting that he was safe.

“Dandy!” He woke up with the name on his lips. His eyes snapping open in an instant. Around him, the world seemed to spin and his mind was foggy, but he pushed through it. He had to find Dandy, he had to make sure he was alright! There had been a skullwarg and a fire. There had been a cane lying in the snow amidst burning wagons. There had been –

Geralt sat up, gritting his teeth against the pain racing through his veins.

“Geralt!”

The startled call was accompanied by shuffling and suddenly Dandy appeared before him. Geralt let out a gasp, leaning closer.

Dandy’s hands landed on the bed Geralt was lying on, wandering until they found Geralt’s chest and pushed him back down again. Geralt wanted to fight it, but he was melting under the soft touch, willing to do anything those hands guided him to do.

“Dandy,” Geralt croaked out, his throat dry, but his voice filled with urgency nonetheless. “You – where is everyone? Are they alight?” He swallowed dryly. “You shouldn’t be here. You should be away – safe –and you…I had your cane.” Geralt tried to get back up, but Dandy’s hands on him were pressing him down persistently. “I have to get it back to –“

“Shh. I got my cane,” Dandy said, one of his hands slowly letting go and finding his hair instead, cradling his head with aching tenderness. “We’re fine. All of us. Thanks to you.”

Geralt blinked up at him. “Then I – I should be out there. Protecting you. In case…In case another monster…”

His voice trailed off, his mind unable to grasp all that had happened and all that it meant lying in a bed that smelled like Dandy, with the actor stroking his hair in comfort.

“Don’t worry, love,” Dandy said softly. “All you have to do now, is rest until we reach a healer.”

“But-“

“Oh no. No ‘but’s. Don’t even think that I would let you walk or ride Roach like that.”

Geralt shifted. “I’m fine.”

Dandy huffed in outrage. “Fine? Geralt, you had half your shoulder torn out.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re being damn reckless and heroic again,” Dandy shot back without hesitation. “I won’t let you get hurt any more than you already are.” The hand on his chest moved, until it came to rest above Geralt’s heart. “Just let me take care of you. If not for my sake, then you should rest because otherwise Nadine is going to yell at you for being an idiot and trust me you don’t want to feel her wrath.”

“No,” Geralt agreed with a weak smile. “I don’t. I much prefer your concern.”

“Yeah, well, you better not get used to it. I don’t like having to be worried about you.” He softened a bit. “Geralt, promise me one thing?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again. Don’t ever send me away when you’re in danger.”

Geralt’s chest ached. He was sure Dandy must be able to feel his heart breaking beneath his hand. How he wished, he could make that promise.

He must have been silent for too long, for Dandy spoke up again.

“I mean it. If you can’t promise me to not get hurt again, then I will just stay with you the next time.”

The reassurance sounded like a threat, making Geralt’s blood freeze in his veins.

“I don’t mind getting hurt,” Geralt said, doing his best to put as much teasing as he could into those words that he meant with all his heart, “if I’m getting to have you fuss over me, afterwards.”

If it means you’re still alive to tell me off like this. Being hurt is a small price to pay for that.

“I do.” Dandy’s voice was barely louder than a breath, but it rang in Geralt’s ears like thunder. “I mind you getting hurt.”

With two of the wagons irreparably broken, Geralt would have no place to sleep anymore, once he didn’t need to stay under supervision in case he decided to play the hero and move around again, as Dandy put it.

Then again, it wasn’t very likely the troupe would even want to keep him around for much longer. They were good people. It was only natural that they insisted on taking Geralt to a healer, but it had been his carelessness with his signs that had destroyed their wagons and most of what had been in them. Geralt had made earning their living so much harder for them than it already was during the cold months.

When they finally got him to a healer who gave him some potions for the pain and made sure none of his injuries would get infected, Geralt fully expected to be told that he was on his own from then on.

He didn’t expect to leave the healer’s house to find the players arguing about who would have to put the props they had been able to save from the fire into their wagons and who would get to share with Geralt.

He was to stunned to give his own opinion or question them why they didn’t send him away.

In the end, it was decided that Geralt would continue to stay with Dandy, not that there had been many voices raised against that suggestion in the first place. No one had been able to stop Dandy from giving another list of rational reasons why Geralt should stay with him, which ranged from “He can get me stuff when I need it and the rest of you are too annoyed with me to do it” to “I have already gotten used to having Geralt in my bed those past days, so why not just let him stay there?”

That last point earned Dandy snickering and Geralt knowing looks and a pat on the shoulder from Mika.

If Dandy minded the suggestive comments, he didn’t show it. Geralt didn’t complain either, too preoccupied fighting down the warmth filling up his chest at how important it was to Dandy to keep Geralt near.

Sharing a wagon and a bed with Dandy was the best thing that had happened to Geralt since he had last held Jaskier in a loving embrace.

They spent many a night drinking the wine Geralt snuck from the supply wagon, following Dandy’s instructions, laughing together and telling stories until late in the night. At least until inevitably, a disgruntled shout of “Be quiet already, some of us want to sleep!” interrupted them.

Sometimes they would just lie next to each other in bed, far enough away to not touch, but close enough that Geralt could feel the heat radiating off Dandy’s body.

It didn’t take long until they woke up tangled up together, Geralt’s arm slung over Dandy’s waist and Dandy’s hand between them on Geralt’s chest, as if feeling for his heartbeat even in his sleep.

Geralt studied Dandy’s face, the soft curve of his smile, before he hid it again by nuzzling into Geralt’s neck.

Geralt’s arms tightened around him. With a sigh that loosened all tension in him, he buried his face in Dandy’s locks and closed his eyes, letting himself stay in this perfect moment for a little while longer.

As much as Geralt loved letting Dandy care for him, it didn't take long for him to grow antsy. His fingers itched to pick up his swords again, too move, to do anything other than sit idly all day. Dandy still wouldn't let him do anything that he deemed to exhausting or that would strain Geralt's shoulder, and sword fighting definitely fell into that category. Randy's concern and insistence to take it slow did nothing to sooth Geralt's own worries. If it were just him getting restless, that would have been fine, but the stakes were so much higher than that. Geralt needed to be able to fight, in case they got attacked again. At the very least, he had to test just how much he could exert his shoulder, in case worse came to worst. So one night, he made sure to stay awake, listening to Dandy's slow and steady breathing until he was sure he wouldn’t get roused from his sleep easily. Carefully and as quiet as a cat, Geralt got up from the bed. He froze when Dandy made a disgruntled noise, grabbing at the empty space where Geralt had just been and only sighing contently again when he found Geralt's pillow and pulled it close to snuggle into it. Geralt lingered a heartbeat longer, looking at Dandy's sleeping form, before he snuck out. The night air was crisp and stung in his lungs. The snow crunched beneath his feet and Geralt winced, thinking about how just a couple of months earlier he had prepared himself to sleep outside by this time.

In the mantle of the night, Geralt retrieved his sword and assumed his stance. His muscles were tense. Every snapping of a twig and every moving shadow made his heart speed up, preparing for a fight. It would have been easier to practice during the day, when he didn't have to worry as much about any threats, but at least like this, the rest of the troupe wouldn't have to worry.

Geralt was no fool. He knew that it could only end one of two ways if anyone saw him go through his forms. Either his shoulder would prevent him from fighting as he should and then the players would fear that Geralt wouldn't be able to protect them anymore. Or, even worse than that, if anyone saw him with his swords, they might remember that Geralt himself could be a threat. Though the players were willing to let him travel with them and were grateful for his protection, Geralt's stomach churned at the thought of letting them see him as someone who could harm them. Geralt knew too well how frightening he looked when his face was set in a scowl when he focused. He couldn't present his new friends with that reminder that he was dangerous and could kill them all in a heartbeat if he chose to do so.

No, it was better to train in the dark, safe from prying eyes.

Now, alone and hidden away, it felt good, almost freeing to have the familiar weight of his sword in hand and go through the forms, as if he was back at Kaer Morhen and training with his brothers under Vesemir's watchful eye.

The next night, he snuck out again, and the night after until it became a ritual for him to train when Dandy was asleep and then come back to lie in his arms until the sun crawled over the horizon again.

Dandy didn’t believe him that he had fully healed, even though Geralt let him run his fingers over the scars where the wounds used to be. Even though weeks had passed since their visit to the healer. Despite Geralt assuring him that witchers healed differently than humans. Dandy kept insisting that Geralt still shouldn’t spend too long riding Roach, lest he exert himself and that instead he should just stay on the wagon with Dandy at all times.

“Admit it,” Dandy said, giving him his best accusatory look that Geralt had seen him practice with another actor earlier. “You’re so insistent of getting off the wagon because you prefer Roach’s company over mine.”

Geralt didn’t let himself be fooled by the mock-indignation. He had seen how Dandy had sought her out, taking care of Roach and making sure to tell her that Geralt was alright, while Geralt was confined to Dandy’s wagon. In turn, Roach was always happy to approach Dandy and follow him around at every opportunity she got, nibbling at his hair and breathing in his face.

Dandy would always complain about Roach’s breath and her ruining his clothes, but he didn’t try very hard to hide the fact that he loved the horse with all his heart and that they had become close friends as if they had never been parted – or as if the skullwarg attack had made them both afraid that they would be parted again.

Geralt’s lips twitched. “She does talk less nonsense than you.” When Dandy gasped in outrage, Geralt added, “but she’s also less charming.”

“So you’re going to stay with me?”

“No. But if you wanted to, you could ride with me for a bit.”

He fully expected Dandy to decline, but his face lit up. He tensed, when Geralt guided him over to Roach again and Geralt could feel the nervousness pouring off him in waves, but he followed all of Geralt’s instructions when he placed Dandy’s hand on the saddle before proving that he was back to full health by lifting Dandy onto Roach’s back.

Geralt fully prepared himself to gentle Roach and make sure she wouldn’t speed up in a way that would make riding more nerve-wrecking than it needed to be for Dandy, but there was no need for worrying. Roach was as gentle as could be.

Riding together wasn’t the most comfortable thing and Dandy kept shifting and wiggling around, but it did feel nice to put an arm around Dandy’s middle to steady him and have Dandy lean back against his chest.

They had to dismount earlier than Geralt would have wanted, because Dandy kept complaining about his hands freezing.

“Do you want me to make you a cup of tea? Bring you a blanket?”

A sly grin spread across Dandy’s face and Geralt got the unsettling feeling that he had just walked right into a trap.

“No need to go through the trouble,” Dandy said overly sweetly. “It would be much easier to warm my hand by holding it in yours.”

It was impossible to tell, if Dandy was just teasing or if he truly expected Geralt to take hold of his hand. But spurned on by a sudden burst of confidence and fondness, that was exactly what Geralt did.

That night, Geralt stayed with Dandy, just holding him close, both of them pretending that it was for warmth, but neither of them putting much effort into making the act convincing.

This one night of full rest was all Geralt allowed himself. The following night, he was back to going through his forms. His mind was sharp and focussed on his movements, but he could sense something behind him. Snow crunched and there was rustling. Whoever – or whatever – this was, it was trying to stealth up on him.

Geralt tightened his grip on his sword, continuing his practice and doing his best to appear as if he hadn’t noticed the intruder just yet, but his senses were set on the quiet steps drawing nearer.

His hackles rose and his muscles tensed. As inconspicuously as he could, Geralt moved to put himself between the hidden figure and the wagon in which Dandy still slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of the shadow creeping around their camp.

The steps came closer. Without warning, Geralt spun around, his teeth bared and his body poised to strike, the tip of his blade pointing at the throat of the shadow in the night.

The shadow let out a surprised cry that ended in a nervous laugh that sounded all too familiar.

Geralt blinked. It was Mika. Their eyes went wide and they held their hands up in surrender.

Geralt’s heart dropped. Immediately, he sheathed his sword and took a hasty step back, putting distance between them.

“I’m sorry,” he said roughly, his chest growing tight as panic took hold of his lungs. “I thought you were a threat. I wouldn’t hurt you. Any of you.”

He knew he sounded desperate, but for once he didn’t care. He needed them to know that he meant it, that he wasn’t a threat. There had been a reason why Geralt hadn’t practiced fighting when anyone could see him. For so long he had done so well. No one had been afraid of him, he got to be near Dandy and he had started to believe the other actors when they called him a friend and part of the family. Now, within a second, Geralt’s careless actions would make all of it crumble down around him.

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he repeated, wishing he had more convincing words, but a witcher’s word had never been of much use when betted against the fear a witcher’s actions caused.

Visibly taken aback, Mika blinked and ran a hand through their dark hair. “Uh, yes. I know.” They gave him a strange smile, their brows knitted together in confusion. “I just wanted to watch. Your fighting is impressive.”

“You wanted to watch,” Geralt repeated tonelessly, unable to make sense of their words.

Mika shrugged. “Ah, you see, when we performed in Brugge, I heard some city guards talk about how terrible my form was and how I could convince no one that I was playing an experienced fighter.”

Geralt winced. As much as he hated seeing the actor so disheartened, he couldn’t deny that he wholeheartedly agreed with the guards. It was painfully obvious that Mika was new to sword fighting, be it actual combat or the choreographies they put up on stage. Mika was enthusiastic, but utterly graceless. In their defence, it wasn’t just their own fault. There was only so much an actor could do, when the entire choreography was ridiculous.

The first time – and if Geralt was being honest, many times that followed - Geralt had watched the players perform, he had been too distracted by Dandy to care much about the terrible fighting, but the more often he watched the players rehearse, the more it had gotten painfully obvious that not a single one of them had any clue how to wield or even correctly hold a weapon.

Geralt’s fingers would always itch to correct their stances, but there was no doubt the players wouldn’t appreciate the unwanted criticism of someone who wouldn’t be able to act to save his life. So Geralt had always bit his tongue or hurried away to take care of the horses, before he could say anything.

Mika seemed to read his silence as confirmation. “I figured if I watched you, I could learn a thing or two. Make my own performance more realistic.” They gave him a crooked grin. “But you’re really fast. And the dark’s not making it any easier for me to see what you’re doing.”

Geralt tilted his head. “I thought authenticity isn’t the point of theatre? That it doesn’t matter that it’s not real.”

Mika’s grin became wider and far too knowing for Geralt’s liking.

“You were brave enough to have that discussion with Dandy?” Mika asked, their voice going up in pitch with glee. “He’s been holding that speech about why inaccuracies aren’t a bad thing to anyone who would listen, ever since he joined us.”

“I like listening to him,” Geralt said, perhaps more defensive than necessary, though he didn’t know if he was defending himself or Dandy.

“Oh, I think we all noticed.” Mika winked at him. “And he’s not wrong, of course. It doesn’t need to be realistic but it still has to look the part. Which apparently it doesn’t.”

Geralt shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He burned to talk about all the mistakes he had noticed the players make, but he settled on the most obvious ones, that even untrained audience members would be able to recognise.

“It’s the spins. Most fighters don’t spin or jump around when they fight.”

“But you do. Just now, you where twirling around and leaping through the air like it was nothing.”

“I’m a witcher. It’s different. We’re trained to fight like that. The way you do it, you leave too big an opening for your opponent to strike.”

“So it’s effective for you and it looked fantastic!” Mika unexpectedly reached out and grabbed Geralt’s arm. “Can you teach me?”

Geralt no longer trained during the night, mainly because it would be easier for Mika to watch when they wouldn’t need to strain their eyes too much in the dark. It did take a while for them to convince Geralt to show his sword fighting prowess during the light of day, but eventually they nudged Geralt in the ribs and reminded him that if he stopped training at night, he’d get to spend more time in Dandy’s bed.

Geralt hadn’t dignified that with a response and he would rather fight another skullwarg than admit that it was that last argument that got him to consider Mika’s suggestion, but the next day, he sought out Mika to tell them he agreed to teaching them.

At first, he only showed them some forms whenever they took a break from travelling. Never when they were in a city and never near the others. The idea of the rest of the players seeing Geralt point a weapon at one of their own, even if it was just a practice sword or a prop, made Geralt’s skin crawl.

The only problem with Geralt’s plan of keeping their training sessions as secretive as possible had one major flaw: Mika was an actor and as such, they loved to hear themselves talk. It took them approximately two weeks, before they announced proudly to the rest of the troupe, that they now knew better than the rest of them how to make a fight scene look realistic.

Some actors snorted, one dared Mika to prove it and one threw a prop at them in jest. Their amusement turned into shock, when Mika took them up on the challenge, picked up a prop sword and went through the forms Geralt had shown them.

The movements were by no means anywhere close to correct, but there was an undeniable improvement to their clumsy and aimless swings from before.

Geralt’s proud smile froze on his face, when Nadine strode over to him and jabbed a finger at his chest with a stormy expression on her face.

“You have some explaining to do,” she said, but before Geralt could speak up to defend himself or assure her that he had made sure Mika would be safe during their lessons, she continued, “You gave Mika lessons and let the rest of us wave our swords around like idiots?” Despite her strict tone, her eyes lit up as they always did when she got an idea that she deemed wonderful. “I expect you to join our rehearsals from now on. Believe it or not, but you’re part of the troupe and we actually want you there with us.”

Just like that, short private lessons turned into full blown rehearsals, specifically for fight scenes, during which Geralt showed the actors how to hold their weapons and practiced easy but impressive looking forms. All the while Nadine made sure to put it all together into a choreography that would look good on stage.

Geralt hadn’t realised how hard the actors were willing to train and how dedicated they were to their craft. For hours on end, they would stay focussed, but for the first time in his life, Geralt got to be part of sword practice with people who beamed in excitement or laughed when they dropped their weapons, instead of fearing for their lives like the boys of Kaer Morhen had. The players loved Geralt’s lessons and his chest would swell with pride, whenever his new students succeeded.

There was only one player who didn’t join them. Dandy.

Whenever Nadine announced another fighting lesson and Geralt handed out the prop swords or daggers, Dandy’s smile would dim and he would sit to the side, drumming his fingers on his thigh and try very hard not to look miserable.

Despite focussing on the lessons, Geralt couldn’t help but let his gaze wander over to Dandy time and time again. He hated seeing him like that, but he didn’t know what he could do to fix it. he hoped Dandy wasn’t offended or thought that Geralt hated their plays because of the lack of accuracy when it came to fighting.

Geralt made sure that his students knew what they were supposed to do and left them to practice on their own for a bit, making his way over to Dandy.

“Don’t you want to join us?” Geralt winced at how clumsy his words sounded.

“Nah, I’m good.” Dandy fiddled with his cane and plastered a crooked smile on his face. “I don’t think I’d do good in those lessons. Don’t get me wrong, it sure sounds like everyone is having fun, but I can’t exactly copy the forms you show them.” He let out a laugh that did nothing to convince Geralt that Dandy was actually fine sitting to the side. For an actor, Dandy could be a terrible liar.

Geralt stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to proceed.

“Witcher novices train while wearing blindfolds,” he blurted out. “I did too. And our – my daughter would always show off how good she was, even when blindfolded. Would do all sorts of flips and spins when she trained.”

Dandy let out a gasp. “Isn’t that dangerous? Geralt, please tell me you made sure that she was safe.”

In that moment, he sounded more like Jaskier than ever. Geralt couldn’t remember how many times Jaskier had demanded to be present when Ciri trained so he could make sure that nothing would happen to her.

“Of course she was safe,” Geralt said. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Same goes for you. If you want to, I will train you and I promise you’ll be safe with me.”

“Oh, yeah no, I know that I’m safe.” Dandy twirled his cane and scrunched up his nose. “I just…I’m probably going to look ridiculous. I always take longer to learn all the choreographies and I don’t want you to think that…” He trailed off, tapping his fingers against the cane nervously.

“Whatever it is you’re worried about, I promise it won’t happen.” His hand came to rest on Dandy’s arm, giving it a light squeeze. “I won’t think badly of you, if that’s what you think. We can try and if it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. Simple as that. You know, just like when you asked me to join the troupe for the winter.”

Dandy huffed. “That was different. I already knew my plan was brilliant.”

Geralt let out an amused hum. “Then maybe it’s more like the one time my friend tried to teach me how to play the lute. For some reason he thought it was a good idea to get me to perform with him.”

Dandy’s brows shot up and he sat up straighter. “Did- did that work? I’ve always wanted to listen to someone play the lute.” He grew more and more excited with each word. “Can you teach me how to play?”

Geralt’s heart sank. “I – no. I’m sorry. I was terrible at playing. Couldn’t remember where to put my fingers for the life of me.”

Dandy’s smile fell. “Oh.”

“But I’m sure if you tried, you’d learn quickly.” His chest tightened and he was glad Dandy couldn’t see how strained his smile was. “Who knows, you could be a natural.”

The look on Dandy’s face was nearly wistful, but then he shook his head. “I don’t know about that. I think for now it would be better if I stuck with acting. I’m busy enough with rehearsals. But maybe I will try one day.” His tone became mischievous. “And if I do, I will absolutely do what your friend did and try to get you to play with me.”

Geralt let out a laugh. “Good luck with that. I am still convinced my friend only taught me so he could have more things to tease me about.”

“And did he? Tease you about it, I mean?”

“Mercilessly.” Geralt grinned. “But I promise I won’t make fun of you if you mess up.” He hesitated. “And I promise I will play with you one day if you try and let me teach you sword fighting now.”

“Deal!” Dandy jumped up fast enough that his head nearly knocked into Geralt’s and followed him a little further away from the others so that Dandy would have enough space and wouldn’t accidentally hit anyone.

Geralt had never been good with words and descriptions, anyone who knew him could attest to that, but this he could do. He knew the stances and forms like the back of his hand. They had been drilled into him until he could describe them in his sleep and then he had drilled them into Ciri until he could sleep soundly, knowing she’d be able to defend herself.

It was obvious from the look of concentration on Dandy’s face that he was doing his best to follow Geralt’s instructions, but there was only so much a verbal explanation could do. Despite Dandy’s best efforts, Geralt had to correct him, first with more words and then when that wasn’t enough by stepping closer and enclosing Dandy’s wrist with his fingers and tilting it until the sword was pointing in the right direction.

Beneath his fingers, he could feel Dandy’s pulse speed up. He risked a quick glance at Dandy’s face and found him fully red.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked in concern. “It’s not too much for you, is it?”

He had seen Dandy prance around stage for hours on end and he loved exploring new places, uncaring of how long he’d be up and about, but perhaps he wasn’t used to the strain that going through fighting forms took on his body.

“Oh, no, I’m alright. Fine. Not too much at all.”

“Alright,” Geralt said slowly.

He didn’t let go of Dandy’s wrist just yet – for no other reason than to make sure that Dandy’s hand wouldn’t sink again once he let go, of course. Eying the rest of Dandy’s posture critically, Geralt immediately noticed a couple more mistakes.

With one of his feet, he nudged Dandy’s legs wider apart, giving him a steadier stance. After a second of hesitation, Geralt reached for Dandy’s chin with his free hand and tilted his head a little, so he would face where his opponent would be if he had one.

Geralt had corrected his different students’ stances and postures countless times and this time was no different. He was focussed as he should be, as was expected of him.

Until Dandy let out a shaky gasp and his breath ghosted over Geralt’s face.

Geralt’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. Dandy was so close. When had they gotten so close? Their faces were only inches apart and suddenly the skin where they touched was burning.

Geralt just had to lean in a little. They were so close. He could –

No he couldn’t. Geralt had to concentrate. He was teaching Dandy, nothing more. He couldn’t just let his mind wander like that. This touch wasn’t meaningful but purely practical. What was more, Dandy couldn’t know what their closeness was doing to Geralt. If Geralt let his hands wander, he could assume it was all part of the lesson and possibly not stop Geralt if he didn’t want the touch. Geralt couldn’t do that. The thought alone was enough to churn Geralt’s stomach with unease and disgust for himself.

Abruptly, he let go of Dandy’s wrist and chin as if the contact burned him and took a step back, swallowing thickly against the tightness in his throat.

He only imagined Dandy’s face falling in disappointment. Surely.

“You’re good.” Geralt’s voice was raspy and he had to clear his throat. “That’s a good stance. Now try to take the step forward and swing the way I explained to you.”

Dandy did as he was told. It was a little off, still, but far better than he had been before. Clearly, he had hung on Geralt’s lips when he had explained the move.

“I think I got it!” Dandy exclaimed, his excitement making his voice louder, until some of the other players interrupted their own practice to look over at them. Geralt didn’t pay them any mind. All he could see was the way Dandy nearly glowed with pride.

At least, Geralt tried not to notice the other players’ attention on them, until a shout came from them.

“Doesn’t look good to me yet. Geralt, I think you should correct his stance again.” A brief pause, in which the others snickered.

Mika piped up next. “Maybe get a little more up close this time.”

Geralt whirled around to give them his most intimidating scowl, but they only answered his glare with the most shit eating grin Geralt had ever seen.

Geralt’s stomach twisted. Dandy had been so insecure about joining the training. Geralt’s chest tightened at the thought of him getting discouraged by the others’ mockery.

Geralt opened his mouth to tell the players off, when Dandy spoke up behind him.

“I think they’re right.”

When Geralt turned around, Dandy’s position was completely off again. None of Geralt’s corrections had stuck. In fact, his stance looked even worse than it had before. Geralt blinked, his gaze drifting up Dandy’s body until it reached his face, which showed the most innocent look Dandy was able to produce.

“You should probably help me some more,” Dandy added and his voice sounded anything but innocent.

Behind Geralt there were mutterings of “Ten crowns say, he’s going to make a move,” and “No way. It’s going to take them at least till the end of winter”.

Judging from the twitching of Dandy’s lips and the blush that spread down his neck – Geralt had to stop himself from imagining just how far down it might go - he must have heard them too.

For a moment, Geralt didn’t move, just standing there awkwardly and not sure if he would make things better or worse if he continued with their lesson. A quick glance at the actors revealed that by now, all of them had given up on the pretence of practicing and were now openly enjoying Geralt’s struggle.

“Geralt?” Dandy’s voice made him turn his attention back to him.

Though he could feel his own face heat up and the eyes of the troupe following his every move, he stepped closer to Dandy once more, though this time he was careful not to get their faces so close together again.

Instead he positioned himself behind Dandy, pressing one hand against Dandy’s back and the other against his chest to straighten his posture. Dandy followed his guidance a little too enthusiastically and ended up tipping over and nearly falling into Geralt. Immediately, one of Geralt’s hands shot out to grab him by the hips to steady him while Dandy’s back was fully pressed against Geralt’s chest. Beneath his other hand, Geralt could feel Dandy’s heart hammering.

“I think you’re right,” Geralt agreed breathlessly. “I should probably spend a lot more time teaching you.”

The first time the troupe performed the play featuring the new fight choreography that Geralt had helped with, Nadine insisted on bringing Geralt on stage with them when they took their bows at the end of the performance. He relented, if only because she had promised that she wouldn’t force him to come on stage again, but there was no arguing with her about just not coming on stage at all. As long as she had any say, no part of the troupe would go without the credit they were due.

Geralt felt painfully out of place standing on the stage with all those bright, happy, accomplished actors. His skin was too tight with all those people in the audience turning their eyes to him. The attention made him stiffen and kicked up all his instincts that told him that having people stare at him would only lead to horrible things.

But then Dandy’s hand found his and held on tightly, tapping out a soothing rhythm on the back of Geralt’s hand.

The touch was grounding against the disorienting clapping and cheering that made Geralt’s head spin when he bowed and received the praise he wasn’t sure he deserved. The praise should go to the players. It had been them who had been dedicated enough to practice, Mika who’s had the idea of Geralt teaching them in the first place and Nadine who had made sure everything looked fit for the stage. Geralt had barely done anything.

Geralt felt the same way he had felt decades ago, when he had come into a tavern, covered in selkimore guts and fully expecting disgust and scorn, and instead he had found people singing his praises under Jaskier’s lead.

None of the cheer mattered though. The most important piece of praise – the only important one – came from Dandy, when he whispered in Geralt’s ear as they straightened themselves again.

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Dandy said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Geralt’s heart jumped up to his throat and he whispered back, “I’m glad to.”

There were other things he wanted to say, more important things, but they would have gotten drowned out by the applause. A stage was no place to make truthful declarations.

When they left the stage again and everything quieted down, the brief flash of bravery that had flared up in Geralt while Dandy had held his hand, was gone. He didn’t say what his entire being wanted Dandy to know out loud. There would be time for that. Spring wasn’t here quite yet.

Over the winter, Geralt learned that he didn’t mind staying with the troupe rather than searching for new contracts when they settled in cities. In fact, he found that he had rarely been happier than when he spent his evenings with them, even if it meant having to endure their endless teasing.

He learned that when he made his movements louder, Dandy didn’t flinch at his touch, but would lean closer to welcome it like he had been waiting eagerly for Geralt to reach out again.

He learned that Dandy didn’t sing without other people joining in, but he loved tapping out rhythms on Geralt’s skin, whenever it was just the two of them. To Dandy it might seem like a random pattern of taps, but after months of listening to it and feeling it on his skin, Geralt finally recognised the lullaby.

He learned that Dandy would join in Geralt’s humming, however out of tune it was, when he tried to sing the melody to Dandy in his rough voice.

He learned that Dandy’s body fit perfectly against his, whether it was Dandy’s back pressing against Geralt’s chest, or Dandy’s face coming to rest against the crook of Geralt’s neck, as if he belonged right there in Geralt’s arms.

Above all, Geralt learned that he loved Dandy, not only because of who he used to be, but for who he was now.

#reincarnation au #geraskier #geraltxjaskier #multichapter #fic #fanfic #witcher fic #my writing #geralt #blind!jaskier

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amoristt · 7 years ago

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Not My Boyfriend | Nathan x Reader

disclaimer: i know nathan is not a good person. i am not putting a blanket over his actions in this fic. i, the writer, understand he’s not an innocent character and has made many terrible choices. im just answering people’s requests, please dont put me under the fire for it.

thank you.

Anonymous asked: CAN YOU DO NATHAN X READER (FLUFF 15) PLEASE! ;U; AND MAYBE A FLUFFY KISS TOO!

sure thing! this was a lot of fun to write :3 hope you guys like it! the prompt is, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Not My Boyfriend

A bird landing inches away from you was a softly lived moment. Fingers that were previously punching numbers into a calculator froze. You barely moved to look up from your homework, all those menacing papers sprawled haphazardly over the wooden picnic table, as to not scare it. It was small, barely larger than the palm of your hand. It’s eyes were beady and unexpecting, it’s wings tucked safely against its fat little body. It hopped from one spot to another, occasionally leaning forward to tilt it’s little head at your calculous. If not for the lack of color in it’s eyes you’d have thought it was confused by your scribbled text.

“Me too,” You breathed, and just that little sound scared it away. You watched it go all the way until it disappeared behind a hefty building, red with bricks and green with vines creeping up the edges. A disinterested sigh passed your lips, your mind bored and exhausted from grinding it’s gears all day. It was noon and you were halfway done with your work, but there was still a small pile of papers that demanded your attention. Even the sight of them made your headache worsen, the pulsing racing in between your temples.

Spring break had come to a sorrowful end. Goodbye sleeping in, goodbye staying out late, and hello school life once again. The eraser of your pencil tapped against your lips idly, fingers itching to do anything than continue writing. You missed summer vacation so much it felt like it was a dull ache in the pit of your chest.

Surviving winter was hard for a summer lover like you, and you spent most of your christmas and winter breaks holed up in your dorm once you came back from visiting family. You weren’t alone there of course, either with your few select friends or your boyfriend, but you’d rather have died than went outside in the snow and freezing cold.

You smiled at the memory, though. You hated winter but staying inside wasn’t bad. Watching movies wrapped in blankets, the taste of hot cocoa on your tongue, the feeling of an arm slung over your shoulder. Half of the time you were never even focused on the movie playing, too caught up in the lips pressed against your own, the hand tugging through your hair, the taste of him.

Nathan Prescott.

Kissing Nathan outside of a party was like spotting the wildest rose, beautiful but distant. Never outside the walls of your dorm did he trace the shape of your jaw, kiss at your collar bones, or let his palms glide down the valley of your back. With soft background noise and a blanket he let himself feel you wherever he pleased, and you welcomed it. He himself wasn’t too much of a fan of the feeling, sometimes recoiling when you touched at him, but he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your skin. Even subconsciously his hands would drift as close at they could, briskly grazing you.

Outside, however, was another story. In solitude he was never the iron-clad, hard headed asshole his reputation so easily displayed him out to be. He was sarcastic, sharp, and he was far from sickly sweet, but he wasn’t Arcadia Bays’ infamous Nathan Prescott. He was your Nathan. He was your Nathan that kissed you on your shoulders but also laughed when you fell off the bed. He was your Nathan that took photos of you, made you look like an angel, but he also was your Nathan that would sometimes draw devil horns on them.

In the winter he was your Nathan that snuck into your room and brought you cocoa, and in the summer he would ‘accidentally’ lose the key he stole from you in order to lock you outside for the day.

He had many sides to him, sides that no one would get to know, but he wasn’t evil. Devious, almost annoyingly so at times, but never… Malicious. Of course he could be, and you knew that. He could be the most volatile person to walk the halls of Blackwell should he want to, but when it came to you he would sneak along the hallways, slip into your room quiet as a mouse uninvited just because he ‘felt like it’. Truth be told, he missed you.

In your back pocket your phone vibrated, making you realize you’d drifted deeper into thought than you had intended. Without even looking at the notification you were already smiling- you knew who it was. Sure enough when you retrieved the device his name lit up clear as day, ‘yorkie’. It was a teasing remark you’d called him once while comparing him to dogs, and you settled on yorkie because they’re small but act like demons. He wasn’t too thrilled over the choice but you thought it was funniest shit, so you ran with it.

When you learned your relationship with Nathan would have to be hidden from the school, you chose the first nickname that came into your head for his contact.

‘where r u?’

Before typing out your reply you gave a quick look-see around, making sure it was just you at the lonesome, miniature park. When it was first built it was overflowing with kids, but soon parents learned that 2 swings, a merry go round, and a few picnic tables wouldn’t suffice for entertainment. Without the shrill cries of toddlers and kids, you’d found it made an excellent study spot.

‘park. catching up on some hw rn.’ You leaned forward, elbows resting on the scratchy wooden surface. ‘why :0? anything up?

He replied almost instantly, a simple ‘nah. dont go anywhere, im gunna b there soon.’

‘wouldnt dream of it. see u soon’

You set the phone to the side and sighed, looking down at both your finished and unfinished work. It taunted you, and you swore it sounded like they were laughing when a warm breeze sent a few pieces fluttering. Drained, you started to gather all of the worksheets up, stacking them atop each other and then scooting them down the table. It almost physically hurt when you grabbed an unfinished sheet, the words ‘chemistry’ causing you to inwardly groan in defeat. With all this work you cursed your past self for not doing it bit by bit over break in order to avoid a situation like this.

By the time Nathan arrived, hands shoved in his pockets and his head ducked down like a stalking cat, you had gone through 2 more sheets and your headache had doubled. You waved a worn-out hello when he came into your view, and he took a look at your current state of being and shook his head.

“Seriously?” He scoffed, hopping onto the seat beside you. “You’re actually doing this all?”

“Course I am,” You added one more sheet to the finished pile. “I do want to get good grades, you know.”

Nathan leaned on one arm, his angular chin propped by an even more angular hand. “Just cheat like everyone else.”

“The last time you suggest that I failed entirely.” Although you tried to sound scolding, all that came out was an airy chuckle. He rolled his eyes and his hand fell, his other coming up to join beside it. You grinned at him. “Is this too boring for you or something?”

“Actually?” he jumped up and sat on top of the picnic table rather than on the seat. With a look of almost disgust he read over the last sheet you’d finished. “Yeah, this is boring as fuck. What’s with the stack?”

A moan of anguish found it’s way out. “I was stupid and decided to procrastinate until last minute.”

“Why ever would you do that?” Nathan hummed, not looking up from your worksheet even when a knowing, sly grin took over his lips. You fought the urge to smack his knee.

“Not funny,” your pencil drew light circles at the corner of your paper. “This is seriously stressing me out.”

“So take a break then,” Nathan hopped down beside you again, his nimble fingers snatching the pencil right from your fingers. You wanted to argue, reach out and grab it, but you lacked the energy and motivation. Bad move, you learned, because the minute he stole your pencil he started writing crude phrases on the wood.

As he wrote you laughed, clicking your tongue and shaking your head. “You know kids see this shit, right?”

“Yeah, so?” He draw two circles beside each other and you rolled your eyes before he finished the piece. “Not like they know what it means anyways.”

“Yes but the parents do.”

“Oh no,” He leaned back again to admire his ugly work. “I’m so scared of little Tommy and his deadbeat, soccer mom.”

“Give me that back.” You swiped your pencil back now that he was finished, but the thought of returning to your work was a heavy one. Once again you cursed at your past self for thinking this would somehow all work out in the end. In the corner of your eyes you saw Nathan start to fidget with something he pulled from his pocket, and at that point you were desperate for something to gain your attention. “What’s that?”

He looked up at you briefly before turning back down to his item, then he set it out in front of him. It was a small camera it seemed, and cheaper than the rest of his devices, and it looked to be an instant camera along with that.

“I thought you were more into computer developed shots?”

Nathan used his sleeve to wipe at the camera's lens, then he shrugged. “I am, and believe me I wouldn’t be using his hipster piece of shit if I didn’t have to.”

Leaning forward you watched him toy around with the buttons. “So what’s it for then?”

“Photos, duh.” You shoved playfully at his shoulder and he smirked teasingly. “It’s something about the lighting I guess. Got a tip from a friend that instant cameras take the best candid shots.”

“Better candids, huh?” Slowly you reached out and grabbed at the camera, and Nathan surprisingly let you. Probably because he had little regard for the items’ safety- he could just get a new one. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” In an instant you’d reached the camera out, facing it towards you and Nathan, and he rolled his eyes but slung his arm around you none the less. However, unfortunately, he put up his middle finger as well.

Still, you took the shot, and for a moment a light blinded you. Then the picture developed and slid out from the bottom, your fingers reaching out to snatch the pic and then shake it quickly. It was warm like freshly printed paper, and if not for the fact that Nathan’s middle finger was up it would have been a pretty light hearted and sweet image, something you’d hang up in your room.

“Don’t show that to anyone,” Nathan said, and it was disheartening to know why. He tried to sound teasing, the words playing a jesting ‘i look bad there’, but it was deeper.

Your relationship was a secret to the outside community, a spectacle only you and him could observe. Sometimes it was okay, as it made you feel special. Only you knew the things you and him did behind closed doors, only you knew the feeling of the pads of his fingers trailing over your goosebump riddled skin. Only you knew the softness of his lips, the sharp angles of his jaw, and how dewy-eyed he got when you woke up beside each other. Other times a shallow and cold feeling tugged at your chest. Albeit never questioning why he chose to keep everyone in the dark, you knew he had his reasons and you weren’t going to pressure him on them. But… You still wondered. A million ideas would race through your head at night. Why, why why. However your qualms were quick to be distinguished when he’d show up at your dorm and find his way under your blankets, his body lean but radiating like a furnace.

The picture was still warm against your fingertips, and you smiled down at it. “Why not?” You playfully whined, both seriously and teasingly. “You look so cute here.”

Nathan rolled his eyes and tried to grab at the picture but you were too quick, leaning away from him and taking the photo of out his reach. He tried again, this time leaning over you in the process, but you got up and rose your eyebrows.

“Don’t make me chase you,” He narrowed his eyes, but they were anything but angry. He was enjoying himself. “We both know how that always ends up.” Waving the photo tauntingly in the air, he started to get up from his seat. The moment his feet touched ground you jumped, running left then right while knowing he was hot on your trail.

It was always so jarring how much faster he was than you. In seconds he was grasping at your shoulders, fingers catching the fabric, and you were turned to face him. Thanks to your speed you almost fell backwards but you caught his shoulders, managing to regain your footing. He was grabbing at the image and you kept it held close, a laugh rising at the feeling of his fingers poking at your skin. His footing faltered and you took it as a moment to make your gleeful escape, but he caught your wrist and stopped you from going too far. Although fast, he lacked endurance, and he was out of breath as he wrapped his arms around your waist to stop you from going anywhere. You swatted at his chest and squirmed, but found yourself trapped.

“Photo, now.” He demanded with a grin in knowing he had you caught.

You opened your mouth to tell him never, but another voice halted you.

“What’s all this?”

In that moment both yours and Nathan’s blood ran cold. He was so quick to let you go, the force making you stumble before you stilled and stared at the two figures approaching with wide, fearful eyes. Nathan seemed more irritated than afraid like you, and his hands balled into fists. God damn it, his eyes said, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of him being upset over the fact that he’d been caught messing around with you.

Two teens, Blackwell students by the looks of their jackets, were close now. Your stomach churned when you recognized the speakers short brown hair, his red jacket that mimicked Nathan’s. Logan Robertson. Beside him you recognized Zachary, a slightly nicer but still equally malicious football player.

You and Nathan traded looks in knowing full well where this was going.

“You and ___?” Logan started in a taunting tone. “Never thought you for the type to go for the underdogs.”

Zachary leaned his head back to laugh before he spoke up too. “Gotta say it’s smart, Nate. The nobodies are so easy to pick up.”

The words hurt but you didn’t dare argue back. Your relationship was a secret, and it would be the end of the world if those two morons found out about it. With sand in your throat you swallowed down your pride, remembering the fact that yours and Nathan’s relationship was at stakes. He meant too much for you to lose just because two dickheads wanted to cause drama.

“That’s not-- We aren’t-” You stumbled over your words as you frantically tried to find out a way to explain what they had seen. Carefully you hid the photo behind your back. “We were just-”

Logan snickered. “We were- We were just- we- we- we- Spit it out, sister!”

“Studying!” Your tongue felt heavy. Nathan rose a brow and you squeezed your eyes shut at the vague and thin lie.

Zachary crossed his arms, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “Bullshit. We all know Nathan Prescott doesn’t study.”

“Yes the fuck I do!” He chided, seeming personally offended by the jocks statement. “I study all the damn time, which is what you two lemmings should be doing too.”

“Since when do you care about class? You hardly even bother to show up half the time.” Logan said, and you swallowed thickly at the scene starting to play out in front of you. Logan’s eyes found you and he scoffed. “Don’t tell me ___’s the type of person to force her boyfriend into being good.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. They knew. They knew, they knew, they knew, and yours and Nathan’s relationship was as good as over. Your chest felt like it was concaving and you acted out as quickly as your racing brain could allow you too.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You blurted. It was loud and forced, but it left all three of them stunned for a moment.

Among of all them, Nathan seemed the most taken aback.

You didn’t stay long enough for them to poke more at your words, pivoting off your heel and barreling straight for your papers. From the wind a few had blown from your pile and you carelessly grabbed at them, shoving and crumpling them into your bag. Nathan was saying something from where he stood but you weren't listening, already slinging your bag over your shoulder and taking your leave.

Suddenly the photo you still held in your hand felt like it weighed a ton.

It was a few hours until you managed the courage to text him again.

Though now riddled with a bad memory you were right back at the park, this time without the anchor of your school bag or the headache from equations. No, all you had with you was your phone, your wallet, and that damn photo. You’d forgotten that on the way home you shoved it into your pocket and upon returning to the park to relax, it crossed your mind again. Although planning to spend some time alone, the sight of you and him happy together made you do something you’d been thinking about for months.

Step one of your emotionally drenched plan was to invite him to the park, and it was an invite he took without argument. Something felt off in his text, it felt… careful, like he knew exactly what was coming. A storm brewed in your gut.

The wait for him to show up was a relentless one, and the whole time you considered the idea of backing out, but it seemed fate would have it otherwise because when you picked your phone up to text him ‘nevermind’ you saw the photo again. It sat on your lap like a brand, and you set your phone back down beside you and groaned. This could be the end or a very fruitful beginning.

Step two was put into motion when he arrived, spotting you on the merry go round where he took a seat beside you. He was smooth in his motions, much more thoughtful than he was earlier. The way he glanced side to side before approaching you did not go unnoticed.

With the hours that passed the sun fell, and now that it was early in the evening everything was saturated in a brilliant gold thanks to the setting sun. If not for the ton of bricks that rolled around in your stomach you would have appreciated the scenery a bit more, but the nausea welling in your throat couldn’t be overridden by pretty clouds or the golden hour.

“What’s up?” He asked, breaking the silence you formed unawarely. He was anxious with his words, like he was expecting some life changing news on your behalf.

You shrugged casually despite the raging fire in your head. The last thing you wanted to do was rile him up. “I just,” The sand formed in your throat again and you almost gagged on it. “Wanted to talk about something.”

“Earlier?”

Lips pressed into a tight line, you nodded glumly. He made a noise of distress and leaned back, his gaze unset and unfocused.

“Look, they’re assholes, but I don’t think they’re gonna go telling everyone shit about me and you.”

“That’s not it,” You shook your head and pressed your hand against your throbbing temple. “The thing is, I don’t care if people know.”

“You seem pretty fucked up about it, though.”

“That’s because I know you wanted to keep it some big secret.”

Nathan took note of your words, eyeing you with knit brows. “I don’t want us to be some ‘big secret’, that’s just kind of how it has to go.”

“Why?” Your hands fell against your lap and you frowned up at him, but he wasn’t looking. “Why do we have to keep everything to ourselves?”

“Why does it matter so much?” He finally looked down at you, his expression tight, his jaw leveled. “What we’re doing is working out just fucking fine, isn’t it?”

You sighed. “Yeah, yeah it’s working.”

“Then what's the big issue?”

“It just-” you ran a hand through your hair roughly, trying to find the right words. “I don’t see why we can’t tell anyone! I mean yeah it’s fine, we’re working, but just- tell me why it’s so important that no one knows.”

“Because you'd fucking hate it if everyone knew!” His voice held so many emotions, but the two most prominent was the obvious anger and the less obvious worry. “Believe me, ___ if people found out you were involved with me you’d run for the fucking hills.”

You blinked at him, lips parted. “Why would I leave you?”

“Are you serious?” He looked down at his lap. “God, you’d get attacked. Maybe not physically but fuck, you’d get ripped into. Do you want to end up like me?”

Your gaze lowered to your legs, the photograph on your lap. “You seem to handle it just fine.”

“If you call drinking and starting fights ‘just fine’ then hell yeah I’m doing great.” He picked at his pants absently. “Never better.”

“Nathan,” You looked up at him. “I don’t care what people say about me. The years almost over, highschool drama is highschool drama. It doesn’t matter in the real world.”

Nathan groaned, rubbing his cheeks with his hands in stress. “It goes way further than that.”

“So what then?” That heat rose to your cheeks but it wasn’t accompanied by the fluttering of your heart. No, it was anger, a sinking and hot stone that ground against your bones. “We just date in the shadows where everythings nice and fucking cozy?”

“What’s wrong with that!”

“Everything!” Now it was your turn to rub at your face, irritated and huffy. “I don’t want to have to constantly feel like I’m being watched when I’m with you! I don’t want to have to worry about seen all the time, and I sure as hell don’t want to keep feeling like you’re ashamed to be with me!” You were talking so quickly, so fervently, you forgot to think before you spoke. You blurted out a thought that had eating away at you, and he gaped at you for it.

“You think I’m ashamed of you?” He asked, voice low and hissing. “That’s what you think this is about?”

You swallowed thickly and tried to eat the lump forming in your throat. “Sometimes.”

Nathan’s features softened, and he leaned back to look up at the sky. “___, that’s not… Shit, that’s not what this is about.” He sighed. “I just don’t want you to get all hurt because some hipster bitch won’t leave you alone. The thought of you going off and leaving me because of drama sucks.”

“I wouldn’t leave you over that.” You croaked. “I wouldn’t.”

“It’s easy to say that now.” He said, mostly to himself, but you responded anyways.

“I wouldn’t leave you over pointless shit, Nathan.” Using your sleeves you wiped roughly at your eyes. “I just want to- I just wanna be able to do shit with you outside my room is all.”

“What can we do outside your room that we can’t inside?”

You shrugged. “It’s different outside.” Through the ever growing blurriness of your vision, you looked up at him.

Nathan’s eyes seemed farther away, facing into the trees that surrounded the dingy little park. His silence was deafening and fear crept under your skin, made your face heat up in anxiety. You felt like you’d screwed up pretty badly, like you’d ruined something. The lack of an answer, even if it was just an irritated sigh, made you antsy. When your lips parted to speak up he beat you to it.

“If you can handle it,” He started, closing his eyes, giving in. “Then sure, whatever.”

You blinked at him slowly, processing. The thought of being open with him made your chest feel like it was filled with cotton. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. If you really don’t care then…” His eyes opened, and they were almost golden with the setting sun's reflection. “Then I don’t either.”

A smarter part of you knew that you shouldn’t be as starstruck as you were. Being with Nathan had a price, and it was a damaging one. It was easy to claim that you didn’t mind some harassment here and there since you were alone, safe with him, but what would happen when you were alone? You weren’t the strongest, you weren’t the fastest. You didn’t want to use Nathan’s name as a shield, either. If some asshole decided to make your day hell then you were stuck.

But, a dumber, romantic part of you, didn’t care. So much of you wanted to touch him, fingers longing to lock and intertwine with his own. Nathan was bony and uncomfortable yet your heart stuttered at hugging him, leaning against him, lying beside him. He was so closed off and guarded that when he finally did open up bits of himself you greedily couldn’t get enough.

“Good,” you breathed. Words tumbled against the tip of your tongue but they couldn’t take shape, your lips moving to try and force another sentence out. That same dry and full feeling returned and it was a miracle you could even speak at all when you asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Nathan was caught off guard. You could see it in his eyes, the way they zeroed in on you before shifting back to nothing in particular. Beneath you the merrygoround creaked as it barely moved. When he looked at you, uncertain, you swallowed thickly and readied yourself to apologize. However, you didn’t need to. He nodded once and ducked beneath the railing, and you met him halfway with your heart thudding in your chest.

It was a quick kiss, chaste and rather plain, but it was more than enough. He molded against you perfectly in those few seconds, his eyes closed and shoulders relaxed. Before it ended your fingers twitched to reach out and grab some part of him, hold him close, but he broke away before you managed to. Albeit having kissed before, this one felt different. You and Nathan had been lip locked for hours on end it seemed sometimes, wrapped around one another to the point where you had no idea where you started and he ended. However this wasn’t like those times. This kiss was shy and sensitive, and when you finally opened your eyes he wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“How was that?” He asked suddenly, his sentence rushed and wavery. You smiled and reached out to gently take the fabric of his jacket in your hand.

“Again.”

Once more Nathan looked down at you but his previous expression was gone, his qualms away with it. Oddly affectionate, warm even, a sight that you’d come to know but didn’t get to see quite often. He ducked under the bar again and just like before you met him halfway, your lips meeting more intense than they had before. This kiss you recognized. It was the type of kiss you felt when he was in a calmer state of mind, usually met when he’d just woken up from a long nap, or when he decided to get loving during a night in your dorm.

It was tender, and softer than anything you’d even known. He didn’t pull away moments later this time- if anything he deepened the kiss with a tilt of his head in the process. You fisted his jacket and tried to scoot closer to him, but found you were separated from the railing placed in between your bodies.

When you and him broke apart the last thing on your mind was the fact that you were still out in the open, able to be seen by whomever happened to be around. Instead you were focused on the light dusting of pink on his cheeks, and the way that his eyes darted from your own to something else in timidity. You realized that as much as this was new to you, it was even more new to him. He’d probably never had a public relationship before, not one that worked out anyways.

You grinned, a giggling laugh slipping past your lips. He scoffed at your bubbliness and rolled his eyes, shifting back onto his side of the railing and shaking his head. Still you saw beyond the action, taking mental note of the way his lips seemed to make an effort as to not curl up into a smile.

Shards of the sun leaked through the trees, now fat with leaves as they should be, and they painted the side of his face. The merry go round creaked again as it slowly spun, your shoes lightly digging into the wood chips on the ground. Nathans hand rested close to your own, and it felt like he was wordlessly inviting you. Tentatively, as if reaching out to pet an animal, you brushed your fingers along his scarred knuckles and felt them twitch. He didn’t move his hand away like he used to when you’d accidentally brush yours against his own. Those moments stung, and now this would be the bandage.

The ride stopped drifting in circles, you watched the treelines beside Nathan, and you held his hand.

#nathan prescott x reader #nathan prescott #life is strange #lis #imagine #scenario #imaginefictionals

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illshowyourhurricanes · 5 years ago

Note

LAST ONE I SWEAR!! #2 for Season 2 Billy

Are you sure, boo? Are you sure?! (I am kidding, I love your requests!) Either way, I am so glad you requested this for who you requested it for because the way it popped into my head for our poor deserving of a redemption arc Billy felt right and I needed to reel in the fluff and get back to my angsty stuff. Either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Swan Song

Image prompt 2: Billy Russo x OC (I got permission for this, y’all!)

Rating: PG-13 to R-ish for language

Word count: 1468

Tag list: @dylanobrusso @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @ms-delos @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @bicevans @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove @ladyofnaps @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @crushed-pink-petals-writes

Follower event tag list: @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @witchygagirl @breanime

If you’d like to be added to/removed from/added to my permanent tag list, please just send me an ask!

Special thanks to @its-my-little-dumpster-fire for beta reading this (and for the cool conversation).

His inky, dark eyes narrowed behind his mask.

Billy’s leg was shaking, frustration and confusion further distorting the disconnect in his mind. Dipping his head, he ran the palm of one hand over the hair on his scalp as the other balled up into a fist. He squeezed and released, squeezed and released, yet the fist remained. He was nerve endings on fire yet unconnected, a maze of impulses uncontrolled, and his brain was squeezed too tight in a vise or fucking lies. His face hurt. He was wired and wild-eyed and overly exhausted from lack of sleep and those fucking skulls that haunted him and why— how? Why was he here, how did he get here, why did this happen, what happened, who happened, where was all this bullshit supposed to fit in his life?

He stood too quickly, causing his chair to fall backward with a loud, echoing clatter. People turned to stare. Billy looked at each of them, sneering behind his mask, tilting his head slightly as his eyes moved from person to person to person. As they each looked away, he shuffled to the far wall, toward the barred windows that didn’t open, and he began pacing the length of the room.

Though he looked straight ahead, he was seeing nothing. Instead, he was in combat. He was back in Kandahar, Lieutenant William Russo, out of breath, exhausted, covered in a filth of dirt and dust and gunpowder and sweat and blood. His entire body ached just from the effort of staying alive, killing anyone who stood in his way. It was exhilarating. It was a feeling of success and triumph that turned to a hot rush of adrenaline throughout his body, heartbeat felt throughout his chest.

It was triumph, something that Billy could remember the feeling of but could not conjure up, not anymore.It was one emotion he could not bring himself to feel— what was there to be triumphant about? His face was ruined, sloppily sewn together like fucking Frankenstein.

Frank. Where was Frank?

Billy stopped pacing, his eyes beginning to focus on his surroundings— sounds of some goddamn loon sobbing in group therapy down the hall, a doctor’s heels click-clacking down the tiled corridor. He slowly turned; they were still there, those intrusive cops that took shifts watching him, always fucking watching him. Billy Russo was a dangerous man, they said. He was a Marine, had gone through extensive training and spent time serving multiple tours overseas. He was a Special Forces Scout Sniper, trained to kill.

It was war.

This life he’d woken up to without knowing how, it was war. But Billy did not have a gun. He didn’t have a sense of identity. He was not a dangerous man.

His face hurt. Lifting his mask to softly run a hand over his face, his fingers swiped from his forehead down to his chin, over the thick scarring of defeat and ruin. Frank. He made his way to an empty table, noisily scraping the legs of a chair over the floor, slumping down, legs splayed and elbows over the table top. Billy sniffed, moved his head side-to-side, heard the satisfying cracking of his neck. Why hadn’t Frankie… where was he? Billy was locked up in this shithole, all for… for nothin’. Frank, he knows me, he’s my brother, he…

Billy bolted up from his seat, jogging toward the officers. The pair of cops straightened their backs, standing on alert, each of them reaching for the grip of their guns. Billy’s eyes caught the movement, and he swallowed past the immediate craving to have his own gun to use on these pigs. The realization of his hand itching for a handgun hit him, hazing his thoughts… why had he approached these cops? He stood dumbly. Wordless.

“Frank,” he said finally. “Where’s Frank? Frank Castle, he’s my brother, he knows…” He let out a puff of air, closing his eyes, trying to gather and organize his words. His voice was muffled behind the mask, his tone falling flat like his affect. “You gotta get in touch with Frank.”

The policemen just stared at him, bored expressions on their faces, hands still on their guns. Billy stared back from behind the visage of his mask, clenching his jaw, challenging the chumps facing him. With a deep inhale he turned to retreat to his table, and that was when he saw her. She was sitting in the chair facing the windows, perpendicular to where Billy had been seated. It had been the only empty table in the room. Now, the tabletop was littered with a rainbow of paper, each sheet perfect squares.

Her hair was the color of honey, and it was clean, brushed and pinned back from her face. Why is she here? Billy approached the table, resigning himself to possibly being presented with small talk. He didn’t do small talk.

But she was so focused on what she was doing, she didn’t look up when Billy sat. My fucking face hurts. He crouched down back into his chair, his head still but his eyes locked on the girl’s hands. She folded the paper, a shimmering silver, with exact precision. Edge to edge, corner to corner, unfolding and flipping. He continued to watch sideways, and when she was finished, she smiled in satisfaction, perfectly content, and plucked another square from the array of paper— a vibrant purple. She’d not once looked at Billy, nor had she said a word. She folded another bird, then another.

Maybe she should be in here.

When she set her fourth paper bird on the table and picked up an emerald green square, Billy spoke. “How many swans you gonna make?” he asked, his voice rough and laced with annoyance.

The woman finally looked up then, and she didn’t bat an eye at the sight of his stark white mask. It was going to stay white too. Billy thought of his doctor with disdain: what a joke. She wants me to fingerpaint. This joint is far from kindergarten, lady. She should be locked in here too.

Then, the stranger had the nerve to smile, and so brightly that it lit up her entire face. Billy’s brows raised, not that she could see. Beginning to fold again, she brought her attention back to the paper. “Cranes,” she said finally. “They’re cranes.”

Billy’s hand rubbed over his skull again, back and forth, once, twice, three times. “How many cranes you gonna make?” He corrected himself, voice dripping with sarcasm. A bird was a bird, he thought, but then he recanted. Raven, it’s Blackbird.

“Legend says a thousand.” She interrupted his thoughts and it seemed like she was speaking in some kind of riddle. Billy didn’t reply; instead, his eyes darted around the room in paranoia, unconsciously shaking his leg again. His face hurt and it itched and he was hot behind the mask. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Slowly, he gripped the mask and slid it upward until his mangled face was revealed. Her eyes lifted to his face again, two seconds before looking back down. His nostrils flared and he set his chin, raising his head high. If someone was going to look down on someone, Billy was going to be the one looking down.

“Orizuru— paper cranes—the Japanese call them birds of happiness or paradise. Legend has it they carry souls there. To Paradise.” Her voice lilted and fell like wind chimes. “They’re also a symbol of hope and healing.” She finished by folding the beak downward. She smiled again, and Billy just stared. She’s delusional.

“Here,” she said, holding out her most recent bird. Sunlight from the false, imprisoning windows reflected off the jewel-toned paper. “For hope and healing.”

Billy stared at the swan, the crane, whatever sort of bird that she held delicately in the palm of her hand. His heart began to hammer against his rib cage, anger rising from his core and threatening to escape from his throat.

Hope. Healing. Fucking bullshit.

In one swift motion, he ripped the mask from his head with one hand and grabbed the stupid paper bird with the other. Standing, he caused the chair to clatter to the floor for the second time—third maybe, he’d lost count— and looked down at the girl menacingly. His upper lip was curled in contempt.

“I don’t need your fucking swan.” He crumpled the perfectly folded paper in his hand, tossing it to the floor and turning to walk away. As he approached the cops, the ones who would be escorting him to his room, he heard her voice call out.

“Cranes. They’re paper cranes.”

He stopped short, standing perfectly still for just two seconds, and rolled his shoulders, inhaled deeply. Never looking back, Billy began walking again, throwing his mask to the floor to join the broken crane. He nodded to the cops, each one wrenching an arm back a little too roughly as Billy led them down the hall.

#dani's 150 followers event #image prompts #image 2 #the-blind-assassin-12 #request #billy russo x oc

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monotonemanday · 7 years ago

Text

Star Crossed Entertainers – Mystic Messenger FanFic Part 1 JuminXOC

Hey guys! So I haven’t written in a while but I love this fandom and I love how creative everyone is. So much heart goes into the fanfics, headcannons, writings, art, drawings, blah blah blah all of the great things this community posts! I am a fan of so many of your guys blogs and I really got inspired to start writing again. This is Part 1 of a series I am thinking of starting. It heavily involves Jumin and Zen and relationships they find with two OCs. The first part of the story takes place at a party for Jumin, basically in Jumins point of view where he meets my OC. Then part 2 is seen from her point of view. Let me know what you think and if you enjoy it feel free to give it a heart, reblog, whatever you want! And let me know if you like it and if I should post part two or if you think I should continue the story. Thank you so much!!

He closed the chatroom and looked forward. He had spent most of the ride in silence. Another party. Another event he thought was both extravagant and incredibly wasteful. He didn't mind most of these soiree's because all he had to do was make an appearance, talk with a few elites, maybe make a few deals, and then he could get back to his penthouse where the love of his life, Elizabeth the 3rd was waiting.

But tonight, was different. It was one of the events he couldn't stand. An event in HIS honor. Thrown by his FATHER. He would be the center of most the event. He couldn't leave. He would have to seem pleasant, joyful, irritated, and excited even.

Driver Kim opened the door and ushered the corporate heir out.

An immediate uproar of people trying to get his attention. The instant flicker of a ridiculous amount of camera flashes. Vultures. He straightened his tie, tugged on his suit jacket, and put on a smile. Not a dazzling movie star smile. Not a smile that made women weak at the knees. The smile of a handsome business man that new exactly how to work a crowd without looking like an arrogant prick. Taking his first steps forward he accepted the fact that he was here, and he was doing this. Jumin Han. The man of the hour had arrived despite the fact he hoped he wouldn't have.

Dread. That's all the corporate heir felt when he entered the double doors to the dance hall. A beautiful fountain was the center piece of the dance hall floor. The sounds of a loud, roaring waterfall and yet it was oddly calming to him. Perhaps because it was taking his focus away from the rest of the hall. Jumin's eyes darted around the large room.

The room was somewhat dim. Extravagant tapestries, gold, red and black hung from the ceilings. Some solid colored and some with swirling patterns and design. Some hanging just for decor and others forming curtains around private booth areas.

Damn it. That held an unholy precedent to Jumin.

Ignore it. Greet your father. Shake some hands. Find your friends.

Jumin Han was trying to throw out every preconceived notion he had about this party. The notion that his father invited very elite business men that also dealt in very shady business. The notion that no women were at this party because most of these men were married, with families, and wouldn't want any kind of scandals appearing in the media. The notion that the press was withheld from being inside because this party and what was to unfold was secret confidential. The notion that his father had hired entertainers, yes. But that they were also most likely, whores ladies of the night.

"MISTAH TRUST FUND KID!" It was a miracle. That obnoxious screaming released some of the tension in his body. Following the noise, he spots three very familiar faces. His extremely composed mint haired childhood friend, Jihyun/V. The energetic and socially fearless red headed menace, Luciel/Saeyoung. The awkward but bright eyed blonde innocent, Yoosung. The trio made up his closest friends. Minus one Zen. Handsome arrogant musical actor who could not attend this shindig due to a rehearsal. Also Minus one Jaehee Kang because well, no girls allowed.

The guest of honor waved toward the three men, and then lifted his index finger up at them in a "one moment" motion. He walked over to where he spotted his father. He greeted his father very briefly, gave thanks, and made his getaway. He didn't want to linger because the less he knew about what his father had planned, the better.

United with his friends in their VIP booth. It was the biggest booth in the joint and was placed at the head of the room. It was leveled up above the rest of the room and a small stage was placed in front of it. A staircase lined with lights leading up to the base of its platform. Tacky.

The party started with a lull. Stuffy old business men chatting, discussing business, and intermingling. But that wasn't any concern to Jumin. He was sat in his private booth with his friends laughing and discussing what has been going on in each other's lives. He was the guest of honor but that didn't mean he had to entertain the other guests. Then the tapping on a microphone rang throughout the room. Chairman Han was at the mic, beaming with pride.

Jumin's father spoke of his son like he was the proudest father in the world. He sang praise of his son's intelligence, talent, eye for business and of course his good looks. Genetics. Then he announced why we were celebrating. Chairman Han's son, THE Jumin Han, had just closed the biggest business deal in C&R history. Nothing had ever benefited the company as much as the business Jumin had drummed up. It was the smartest move in company history, maybe even all of history, and this young hot shot was the center of it.

The dance hall erupted with applause and Jumin stood up to take a humble bow and wave out to the crowd. He wasn't in the mood to make a speech and he could tell his father was itching to move on to something else.

The lights in the hall dimmed rapidly and a hush fell over the sea of rich older men. Most found the way to their private booths or off to the sides of the dance hall, leaving plenty of open room.

Then a scuffling noise.

A tapping.

Heels. High heels.

Chandeliers illuminated with bright light revealing about 20 of the fakest most beautiful women money could buy. Drums started a jazzy number and then an explosion of brass filled the hall. The women decked out in sequence leotards with long trails of feathers and boas attached at their lower backs. Some had extravagant head pieces, and others had their hair done in the most intricate styles. All their lips were a dark ruby red and their eyelashes were so long they could dust off the tables. Sheer tights made their legs look smooth and they were covered in small jewels. Their heels seemed too tall for dancing and seemed like a very irresponsible choice.

But certainly Jumin was the only one thinking these thoughts.

As the women danced and made their way to the different perverts patrons in the room, the lights again started to dim and something got the boys attention in their booth.

The back curtain had opened to their booth and someone was making their way through the pillows and blankets set up in the back, towards the table where the four RFA members were seated.

Yoosung and Luciel hadn't noticed. They were too busy making inappropriate jokes and blushing when any of the ladies even glanced their way.

Jumin was actively avoiding making eye contact with any of the performers by staring into his wineglass. These women were hired by his father to be groped and fawned over and they were possibly going to end up doing a lot more under these dirty geezers and Jumin wanted no part of it.

Jihyun alerted the others of the stranger in their booth with a clearing of his throat. When they looked over our two flustered school boys let out a couple of loud gulps, which in turn made V chuckle.

Standing at the end of their table was a woman. A woman that was dressed differently than the others. Her Leotard was solid gold and unlike the others, it had sleeves. Long sleeves that started at the bottom of her shoulders and clung tightly down to her wrists. Lace. Her stockings were fishnet and her lipstick was a bright apple red. Her legs were incredibly long and you could tell just by looking at her that she was much taller than the others. On her feet were short tan colored dance heels. Very sensible.

"Excuse me, gentlemen." She beamed this radiant innocence but was so confident in the way she spoke to them. "Do you mind if I take over your spot for a moment?" The woman questioned them and then held out a hand. She was met with a silent glare from Jumin. He was caught up in analyzing the woman before him. Her skin. She wasn't wearing a caked on mess of foundation. She was pale and he could make out the freckles beneath her eyes. Speaking of her eyes, holy shit they were enchanting. Big, bright and the deepest pools of blue he had ever seen. Her hair, well, it wasn't her hair. Jumin was an expert at spotting fake. But this wasn't the kind of superficial fake he normally looked for. She was wearing a wig. A black bob with straight bangs that rested just below her jaw. The corporate heir couldn't make out much more because the woman turned her face away. Not because she was embarrassed, she was avoiding him. Did she not want to be looked at so closely?

No one had responded to her and the air had gotten awkward. The music and dancing were still going on outside of their booth and her request seemed a little time sensitive so V took her hand. Instead of taking a seat at their table like they had all assumed she used V's hand to help boost herself onto the table.

A spotlight. The chandeliers dimming. The other dancers filing in to sit on the steps of the stage in front of the RFA booth. The woman started singing. Her voice. It was perfect for Jazz. It was smooth and had this beautiful deep tone to it. It was like you could hear her soul through her voice. The boys wanted to watch her perform but all four couldn't determine an appropriate place to fix their eyes while she was standing directly above them.

Her song started slow. The words. She was singing about something a woman after men with money would certainly sing. Jumin wasn't totally focused on her words but he heard something to the effects of "diamonds" and "a girls best friend."

Just as he was losing interest another explosion of brass. The woman had jumped from the table and three other women had caught her. Now the song was lively and she was making her way throughout the hall grabbing everyone's attention. V was enjoying how catchy the song was and how she was commanding the number. Yoosung was excited by all the confetti and color that was bursting through the hall and still a bit flustered by all the ladies popping out of their tops. Luciel had joined in on the dancing. He was no longer sitting and was trying to find a way to actively participate in the number with the girls. Let's be honest, he probably had a matching outfit.

Jumin however had his sights fixed on the mystery woman that had emerged from the back of their booth moments ago. He watched her not as some pervy beast looking at his next prey, but as a business man watching a business woman. Everything she did was very calculated. All the other girls were running up to men, flirting with them, touching them, BEING touched by them, but not her. She would get close but she would never make contact. She demanded attention and she got it. She was like the prize to be won, and everyone was losing. He noticed that she knew exactly who to play to. She was courting all the top execs and most importantly she was sending her winks and her air kisses to the top dog, Chairman Han. Jumin felt his stomach turn. How vile. She was just like every other gold digging woman, and maybe even worse, he thought. Then he noticed something. There was a look in her eyes each time she turned away from the men. He couldn't place it but it almost looked like...disgust. He couldn't be sure but he even swore one time she rolled her eyes. Jumin watched on and his initial opinion of the woman continued to gradually change.

This woman was smart. She knew who to give attention to but she also knew who she was there for. Jumin Han was the man of the hour and she was the main entertainment. She had made her way back up the steps of the small stage where the corporate heirs booth was. There was a break in lyrics so this part of the performance was just dance heavy and she took the opportunity.

The woman again extended her hand out to Jihyun who took this turn to kiss the back of her hand. He was playing into the performance. She carefully walked her way past him and sat herself between the blonde and the redhead. Jumin couldn't focus on what they were saying. All he could hear was the loud jazz music and muffled voices. He was surprised however at what he was witnessing.

They weren't being touchy feely, she wasn't seducing them, and she wasn't getting too close for comfort. They were laughing. Cackling even. She wasn't treating them like clients, she was treating them like friends.

That's when he felt it. Jumin tensed up. He felt the icy stare of his father. He looked over to see the chairman with his arms crossed and his eyes shooting piercing daggers at his son. Disappointment. Jumin knew what his dad wanted him to do. He probably spent a fortune on this entertainment and he picked a woman specifically for him. This woman. And he didn't pick her to perform a comedy routine for his sons friends. But there sat his son. Not only was he not seducing her, but he was actively avoiding her. Jumin started to feel nervous. He knew his father wasn't happy and this had happened before. There would be consequences for him or worse, his father might take the woman instead.

Jumin began to panic internally and decided he had to act but before he had time to think up a plan he felt a hand sliding up his thigh. The woman had left her place between his friends and had sent them out to the floor to dance and joke around with the three woman that had caught her after she jumped down from the table. He looked up at her and she lifted a finger to his lips, then she pointed to her cheek. There he saw a mic, and realized that she had turned it back on to continue performing. Leaning in closer he saw her lips moving but heard her voice through the sound system.

"Talk to me Jumin Han and tell me all about it."

She turned and addressed the crowd while untying the front curtains to the private booth.

"Sorry, Boys! It's time for my break and its ladies choice, but absolutely feel free to indulge in my many lovely friends!"

She closed the curtains tight and turn towards the table.

Oh boy. Jumin was ready. But not for what she was expecting. He was ready to tell this woman that her services were not necessary and that if she was expecting to gain some kind of commission from him he would gladly compensate her just in order to get her to leave him be. But he didn't get the chance.

"Hello, Mr. Elite Business Man. Don't worry. I'm not here to jump your bones." The woman let out a soft chuckle. Melodic. "I just figured you couldn't bare that mans demonic peepers piercing through your soul any longer." Her chuckle grew to a laugh and Jumin was utterly confused.

"I'm talking about your father. He sure does want to see you in all your glory that is manhood in the presence of a lady now doesn't he? I don't think I've ever seen someone that hungry to get somebody else lucky in the bedroom."

"I suppose he's worried about the rumors that arise about my sexual orientation. Or perhaps he's worried I'll end up alone. Won't be able to provide an heir to the family or the company. But you're right, I wasn't thrilled by his glare." Jumin poured more wine into his glass.

"Hmmm. Well, I'll tell you what. How about we sit here for a while, I'll tousle your hair a bit, loosen your tie, and we can both move on from this night. Back to our normal day to day."

The woman had walked to the back of the booth and lifted on of the large cushions. She pulled out what looked like a piece of gold cloth but she stepped into it and pulled it up to underneath her armpits, turning her leotard into a tasteful cocktail dress that hugged her body perfectly.

Jumin was shook. Here he was alone with a woman that had been hired for the soul purpose to seduce him and she was intentionally not doing that exact act. "You mean, you're not going to do the job you were hired to do?"

Again the woman chuckled. A smirk creeped onto her lips. "Would you prefer that I did?" She watched the raven haired man go wide-eyed. "Oh settle down. I'll have you know that I actually wasn't hired for the job that you're implying. Well I guess technically I was but, I have an agreement with my employer."

Was she going to talk business? Because Jumin was into it could get into it.

"I know what you think of myself and what you think of those girls out there. And in some cases your opinions are valid. But in others they are way off caliber. Only a handful of those girls go home with those pompous greasy men. And they do so by choice. Our employer doesn't force any action like that."

"And are you apart of that handful that goes home with arrogant and showy business men?"

"If I was, I'd be pretty stupid to not currently be bedding one Jumin Han, now wouldn't I?"

Jumin almost dropped his wine glass, a blush creeping across his cheeks. He recomposed himself. "Actually I was wondering about that. You seem to have had no problem flirting with the men here, and even making physical contact with my friends, but you actively avoided me until you realized my father was watching the both of us. Why is that?"

The woman lightly traced a pattern on the table with her index finger, unsure of how to respond. Jumin assumed she was shy. Maybe she had a crush on him. Maybe it caused her to be shy and that was the cause of her avoidance. He expected her to be meek and timid but when she spoke up to respond you wouldn't have thought someone could be so confident.

"Because I'm not an idiot. I know that I am put out there like the grand prize. I know that when I perform at these parties I am supposed to dote, swoon and fawn over the men that are doing the same to me. I'm supposed to jump into every rich mans arms and beg them to take me but first I'm supposed to act like they need to work hard for it. But it's an act. I can't stand it. It makes me sick. But it's how I make a living. And the money? Well it's almost comparable to the sum you make mister trust fund kid."

Damn it, Luciel.

"I'm paying my bills. By putting on an act. And that's exactly what it is. An act. I don't need any man, let alone a man who thinks he's deserving of whatever he wants just because he's financially well off, telling me how to live my life. So if you have a lecture for me, you can save it. And to finish answering your question as to why I avoided you. Again. I'm not an idiot. I can tell when someone is uncomfortable. I've never seen someone work so hard to avoid staring at a woman's chest. Especially when it's a group of ladies dressed like these."

A chuckle made it's way to Jumin's throat. Barely.

"I see. You're a very interesting woman."

"I'd better be. Money and looks can only go so far. That goes for both men and women."

She winks at Jumin and they both share a smile.

"Listen, I do have a favor to ask of you." The woman starts to reach into the breast of her leotard, and again she sees the man's eyes shoot wide open. "Okay, okay, easy. I'm just grabbing this." She pulls out a folded piece of paper and lays it in front of him.

"As you can tell, I am sort of the top dog amongst the ladies and my employer is very aware of that fact. Now I told you my employer never forces us to do things we don't want to do. And they don't. However with me, that causes a problem. I bring in a lot of business. And it's all on the circumstances that I am considered forbidden fruit."

Jumin crossed his arms on the table and his right eyebrow arched. Intrigue.

"I don't sleep with clients. I don't even give clients more than a kiss on the cheek. But they all think I do way more. That's how I've been marketed."

Marketed. From a business stand point Jumin was understanding, from a human being stand point, he was disgusted.

"I don't know when it happened, but clients started requesting me often. My employer would turn them away. However, it was becoming a problem for business. They were angry. Why wasn't I available and how dare we deny them service. My boss couldn't just flat out say I don't service clients that way, and that I am just strictly a performer. The stage is where I work my 9-5, not the bedroom. So we came up with an idea. Or really, I did. It would become a game. We'll let them think that I sleep with clients, but only clients that pay their dues. It's almost like a point system."

The woman began to explain to Jumin and he felt conflicted at the emotions that so quickly changed throughout her speaking. She was beaming and so bright, her eyes sparkled with pride when she was explaining how her plan had worked and profits expanded tenfold. How she made it so that other girls could work less hours and focus on other jobs they had or school work. How they didn't have to do as many demeaning things due to her strategy she had put into place. But at the same time she looked disgusted at the fact she was even accommodating these elitist pigs. Both Men and Women, Jumin learned.

"So basically we tell them that I only take on clients that frequent however often, or pay so much, or this or that. And then when they reach all the requirements they can have me. But that day never comes."

Jumin sat silently, only for a second before he was already dissecting the flaws in her business plan. "Hmmm. I see. But don't the men get suspicious when no one ever gets taken by you. Or the fact that you are always on stage and never in a back room or wherever it is you take clients at these places."

Oh Jumin. Innocent to the shady business of your father and the business world around you. Protect him someone, please.

"It seems like you would only be able to keep up this charade for a short period of time."

"Ah, Mr. Han. I shouldn't have suspected anything less from the greatest business man this area has ever seen."

She smiled at him, and it wasn't flirtatious. It showed admiration for the man who was listening to her. The woman who was normally seen as nothing but an upper-class whore for stuffy old men that used literal money to wipe their own asses. He was listening to her and dissecting her line of work in what appeared to be an attempt to help improv it.

"That's why we have decoy's. A select few men AND women who have signed confidentiality agreements. They act as the patrons who have met the requirements to be seen as my clients. They even give other clients "tips and hints" on how they met the standards. I spend time with them off stage. However, we're really just working on our own things, practicing new numbers, or playing poker behind closed doors."

"And it's been working?" The man seemed skeptical.

"It has been for a period of 7 months so far." Outside of the curtains of the private booth they heard the music winding down and the woman knew that there wasn't much time left before her and the chair were expected to resurface.

She grabbed the piece of paper she had previously slipped on the table.

"Listen, that's where this comes into play. Obviously everyone out there including your father can guess what should be happening in here right now. So my reputation for business as well as expectations from your father are on the line. You're Jumin Han so there's no using a decoy here. I've made a deal with my employer. If I get you to sign a confidentiality agreement I'm free and in the clear. If not, well that's something that isn't your problem and it's not something I will concern you with."

Tik-tok. Time wasn't slowing down and she knew that her employer would soon be there to collect and the rest of the guests and the ladies were probably getting antsy for her to close out the night.

Jumin opened the piece of folded paper and read it over. He began to sign and he let out a hardy chuckle. He must be crazy signing something like this.

"You seem like a woman well versed in business. Why would you hand me such a contract and think that it would be enough to cover all your bases in this matter?"

"Well I had another draft but I thought it was too lengthy for this matter. Plus, Jumin Han, after watching you avoid women like the plague out of principal and purity of heart...I trust you."

Jumin finished signing the document and the woman stood up.

"Well it's time for me to address those barbarians. And I'm sure your friends are anxious to get back to you."

Just like she promised, she walked toward the corporate heir, tousled his hair, loosened his tie, and took his hand. She stood the man up and pulled open the curtain to the booth. They emerged hand and hand to address the crowd. Jumin looking disheveled and very pleased.

"Gentlemen! It is time for us to lay this party to rest. Beauty sleep is extremely important to us, ya know." She winked at the crowd. "We're off but our door is always open. Come and visit us anytime and if you happened to make a love connection with one of the ladies tonight all I ask is you hold the doors open for her, treat her like a princess and make sure she gets home safe. We are the Star Crossed Entertainers and tonight we sparkle just for you! Thank you!"

Another burst of confetti fills the room and the men erupt with whistling and applause. The woman lets go of Jumin's hand and begins to make her exit when He reaches out and grabs her wrist.

"Wait, what's your name?"

"Ana."

"How old are you?"

"23."

"Aren't you forgetting the fine print of your own contract?" Jumin drops her wrist and puts his hand out toward her. His hand balled into a fist with his pinky extended. He looks at her face. Her big blue eyes and red lips. The short hair he knew wasn't hers but was very suiting for the occasion and matched well with her outfit. He hadn't noticed while they were sitting but she was eye level to him. He assumed she was tall but they were equal in height. She was something else. She smiled at him and a slender pinky wrapped around his.

"I almost did. Thank you" She let the man's pinky go and leaned in close, softly kissing his cheek. "Hey Mr. Elite Business Man, thanks for not trying to put it in me." She winked and poked her tongue out at the now crimson cheeked handsome C&R director and then she was off. Lost in a see of women and confetti.

Shit. She was a firecracker and Jumin dug it.

Shortly after two burly looking men approached Jumin with a very large curvy woman in tow. Her face was painted for the back row and underneath it all you could tell she wasn't aging gracefully.

"Mr. Han, please forgive the intrusion but I believe you have a signed document for me?"

"Ah yes, one moment.”

Jumin handed the stocky woman the paper he had just signed and watched her read it over.

The woman rolled her eyes and laughed. She folded the paper up and handed it back to Jumin.

"That girl will be the death of me. You know she turned my hair this fabulous silver color don't you?"

"I don't understand, don't you need this document as proof of well..."

"That silly thing won't do me any good. But I trust that you will keep the events of tonight confidential Mr. Han. I am very close with your father. I'll definitely be having a word with Miss "Look at how cute and clever I think I a" when she comes into work tomorrow, but we have no further business here."

"Oh actually ma'am, do you happen to have the contact information for Ana?"

The woman looked puzzled. "Ana? I'm afraid I don't have any girls named Ana."

She turned and left with her brute force in tow, leaving Jumin alone in disbelief.

He looked down at the piece of paper he had signed just a few moments earlier. Under his signature was the fine print that read "This contract isn't valid until both parties engage in a pinky swear." And above was the whole of what he was agreeing to when he signed. "I Mistah Trust Fund Kid am sworn to absolute secrecy." In beautiful script writing.

Jumin folded that paper and put it in his pocket. He will begin looking for her tomorrow. It wouldn't be easy since she was obviously someone who purposely tries to hide her identity. Maybe Zen would know. He opened his phone ready to send a text as his three friends that attended the party began to rush over to the steps in front of the booth where he stood. He put his phone back.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow he will search for the woman, no, the first and only human to impress him by completing a job by NOT doing the job that they were hired to do.

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clevercatchphrase · 7 years ago

Text

You Monster Chpt. 30

Click Here To Read On AO3! Chapters:[First][Previous][Next] Notes: I’ve been writing this for over 2 years now, god damn. (also I so badly wanted this out by Christmas but I got the flu instead, waa waaaa)

The remaining the trip to the elevator is made without incident, and the monster and child board without hesitation. Once inside Alphys does an about face and pushes the top button on the level select. Beside her the human leans against the wall and exhales with relief as the lift rumbles and gently begins to rise.

The scientist nervously taps her fingers and steals a side long glance at them. Guilt itches at her scales as she watches them take a moment’s respite, knowing it wouldn’t last much longer. If her timing was right, the elevator would malfunction in three… two… one…

With an ominous buzz, the lights overhead flicker and die, followed by the elevator lurching to a complete stop. An alarm symbol flashes red among all the buttons by the side of the door and a distress signal cries out for help.

The human looks at Alphys too petrified to speak as they brace themselves against the wall. Their expression says everything their throat cannot as they give her a terrified look. Alphys does her best to feign ignorance as she pretends to inspect the controls.

“Uh-oh. I-I th-think the e-elevator’s been sabotaged!”

“Does that mean we’re stuck in here?”

“P-possibly. B-but! Before we panic, let’s see if we c-can pry the doors open!”

The human nods and bravely straightens up away from their corner. On shaking knees, they move beside the scientist, wedge their fingers into the seal, and grip one side of the door while Alphys gets the other.

“On three?”

“Yeah. Ready?”

“R-ready! One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

With a mighty heave, the two monsters pull against the doors with all their strength. The metal resists at first, groaning and complaining until it finally gives in and opens just wide enough for both occupants to squeeze through.

“G-great job! Please, after you!”

The human slips through the crack and Alphys follows suit, wiggling through the tight squeeze. She practically pops out the other side and face plants on the ground. The human falls to their knees at her side.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Alphys assures them, brushing red dirt off her lab coat and adjusting her glasses. She turns back to the elevator.

“Hmm. ‘R2’,” She reads the lettering overhead. “Dangit. We only went up one floor. We need to go up one more.”

“Is there any way to fix it?” the kid asks, biting their lower lip.

“Oh certainly, but from the looks of it, it would take me a couple hours to repair. Maybe even a whole day.” Alphys pushes the call lift button to experiment. The ‘up’ button buzzes disapprovingly when pressed, but the ‘down’ button readily complies with a pleasant ding.

“Hm. Looks like it will still go down from here. Just not up. But never fear! Th-there are multiple elevators around Hotland for this very reason! W-we can take the west wing elevator up to the capital instead! I-i-it’ll be a bit of a walk, but anything is faster than waiting around until this gets fixed.”

The human sighs and gives her a little nod, and together the pair head west.

The resume their walk in silence, the human in front and the scientist slightly behind, just as before. At first the human seems sullen about having to take a detour, but before long they become absorbed with the architecture around them, aweing at the multiple platforms suspended in the air like crisscrossing hammocks, or raised up like aqueducts. A couple of times they dare to peak over the edge to get a look at the islands now far below and gawk at the volcano’s geology. From up here it’s easy to see that Hotland is not just built over one bubbling pit of lava, but several, each contained in its own valley surrounded by smaller mountain ranges of brimstone that obscure one’s view from the others. Dumbfounded by Hotland’s true size, it’s not long before the human skirts back to the center of the path. Alphys suppresses a snort at their childlike wonder and pulls out her note book to jot down her observations while they are distracted.

“Highly… inquisitive nature… expresses strong…. spatial awareness… of body and… understanding… of potential…. safety…. hazards. Done.

“Oh!”

Alphys looks up from her note book at the human’s sudden interjection. They’re studying something off in the distance. Following their line of sight, Alphys tries to pin point what they’re looking at. Squinting through her glasses, she thinks she can just make out the brown and white roof of a very familiar, and highly illicit, hotdog stand.

And someone appears to be working the register.

The two close in on the business without taking their eyes off of it. It seems Alphys and her examinee aren’t the only ones who noticed that the concession was open. The platform around them widens into the size of a plaza, and a sizeable crowd stands in front of the counter in a sloppy, snaking line. Quite a few individuals sit on the edge of the platform, eating their purchases with their legs dangling off the ledge.

Alphys and the human stop a ways off and just watch as the line inches forward. Sans is working behind the counter, which surprises Alphys for more than one reason. Well, okay, maybe “working” isn’t the most accurate word. He’s leaning back in his chair with his feet on the counter and sleep mask over his eye sockets. On one side of the counter is a large glass jar with “Hotdogs! 30G ea. (Max purchase limit = 30 per customer)”written on the glass in black sharpie, and on the other side of the counter is a pyramid of the tin foil-wrapped entrées.

By some sixth sense of awareness (or maybe he wasn’t really asleep at all) Sans lifts one corner of his sleep mask off his face and focuses in on the two with the soft light of his eye.

“Hey there, kiddo. Alphys.”

“Hey Sans,” the kid says neutrally. “You know Alphys?”

“Sure do, buddy,” the skeleton says, straightening up. "Alphys is probably just as famous as the king himself. Plus we used to work together as lab partners. But that’s not important. Nice to see you out of your lab for once, Al. What brings you around these parts?”

“I-I-I’m escorting our friend here to the capital,” Alphys says nervously, putting her notebook back in her backpack as inconspicuously as possible.

“Oh? You’re taking the long way?” Sans asks.

“We had some elevator problems,” Alphys counters.

“Yeah, that robot Mettaton keeps trying to get in our way,” The human says. “But what are you doing here in Hotland, Sans?”

“I work here,” Sans says bluntly.

“I thought you were a sentry in Snowdin.”

“What? Never seen a guy with two jobs before?” Sans teases. “Say. It’s getting close to noon, which means it’s getting close to lunch. You guys hungry?”

Upon hearing the word “lunch” the human’s stomach audibly rumbles. All eyes turn towards them and they blush a bright red.

“You know, now that I think about it, I didn’t have breakfast.” They laugh sheepishly. “I came straight from Waterfall to here. I am really hungry.”

“Well, that’s good ‘cause I really gotta sell these hotdogs,” Sans says. “I can’t leave until I get rid of my entire stock. So what’ll you have?”

The kid shrugs. “What do you got?”

“Well,” Sans grunts, leaning forward over the counter. “I’ve got your classic ‘dogs, and your fan favorite franks, both of which are thirty gold by the way. Oh, and I’ve got this sweet new deal if you buy the bun for fifteen gold, you get the hotdog for only fifteen gold as well. Take your pick.”

The kid snorts and tries to keep from smiling. “Well, I’ve never had a hotdog at all before. What do you recommend?”

“Never had a hotdog? Buddy, that’s a crime in some places. Here, I’ll give you your first two ‘dogs on the house. You too, Alphys. Here.” The skeleton hands the two traveling partners two wrapped packages each.

“I suggest trying this one first,” he says to the kid, tapping one of the wrappers indistinguishable from the other. “It’s my new vegan option. No monster magic used in this product.”

“Wow, thanks, Sans.” The human smiles, and opens the entrée.

The bun looks fluffy, warm and is a beautiful golden brown, while the meat smells savory with spices Alphys can’t identify. It really does look delicious, but she holds off on eating her own, wanting to see the human’s reaction first in case she wanted to write it down. Taking a deep breath, the human turns the hot dog’s narrow end towards their mouth and bites down without a second thought.

Immediately she can tell they regret all their life’s choices.

The “hotdog” filling explodes into white cotton the instant it comes in contact with their teeth and they choke, sputtering and spitting as they cough out hundreds of fluffy seeds. Beside them, the pair hears boisterous laughter and Alphys angrily glares at Sans, only to find him absolutely losing it.

“Sans! What is this?” the kid sputters, vainly trying to clean their tongue off with their sleeve.

“Oh, the middle bit? That’s a water sausage. What d’ya think?”

“Water sausage?” Alphys echoes. “Like the cattail water sausage?”

“Yup. Locally grown too.”

“Sans those aren’t edible! They’re seed pods!”

“Oh, really? And here I thought they were just jam packed with mini flavor explosions. No worries, though. I can give you a full refund if you don’t like it.”

The child narrows their eyes and gives him an exasperated glare.

“You knew that would happen, didn’t you?” They interrogate him. “Are the others booby trapped as well?”

“Ha ha, no, just the one,” Sans promises. “All the others are made of tofu.”

The kid inspects their next hotdog with scrutiny, and Alphys does too, carefully poking at the sausage for any sign of a potential explosion. When their remaining hotdog fails to detonate, they deem it safe and take a tentative bite and Alphys follows. The flavor is amazing. She can’t remember ever having something so savory in her life. No wonder so many call San’s hotdog stand illegal. Food this good should be a crime.

The kid finishes their hotdog in four bites, then, reaching into their pocket, scoop out a handful of gold and slam it on the counter.

“Give me another!” they demand.

“Sure thing, kid.” Sans says and passes them another wrapped package. “But mind if I ask you to not eat this one in front of my stand? I gotta move this line along.”

“Okay,” The human says, swiping the hotdog off the counter. “Alphys, I’m gonna find a place to sit.”

“D-don’t go far!” Alphys calls after them as they begin to move away through the crowd. She watches them until she sees them find a spot on the edge to sit and eat amongst the other patrons before Sans makes a throat clearing noise to get her attention.

“Alphys, I thought you were gonna slow the kid down, not personally escort them to their execution.”

“I-I-I never made such an agreement,” Alphys says defensively. “I only said I wanted to study them. And you won’t believe how much I’ve already learned! Humans are nothing like the ones in anime! And they’re certainly not as one note as our history makes them out to be. Even this one is so much more complex!”

“Kind of like us monsters, huh?”

“Hm, I wouldn’t go that far. I would need more observational data before I make a claim like that.”

“Alphys, are you really going to go through with this?” Sans changes the subject.

Alphys dares to look at him, expecting to find him ready to chew her out, but his expression is neither angry nor scolding. Instead, it’s rather sad in the way his shoulders sag and how the light in his eyes blur just a bit when he tilts his head to a certain degree. It was uncanny how such a rigid face could convey so much emotion.

“I… w-w-whatever happens, happens, Sans.” Alphys stutters. “I’ve already promised them I’d see them to Asgore, a-and they trust me. I-it feels good to have someone believe in me.”

“Yeah, I bet they’ll thank you when Asgore runs a trident through their middle.” He snorts sarcastically.

“Sans, that’s not fair and you know it!” The reptilian monster scolds. “It’s my job as the royal scientist to find a way to make monsters strong enough to break the barrier, and studying a human would help me with that!”

“Alphys, you keep saying that, and yet your actions and motives don’t line up,” Sans argues. “If you just take the kid straight to Asgore, then the king would have seven souls, which is enough to break the barrier, so there’s no point in studying them when you know that research won’t be of any use. And if you really wanted to study them so meticulously, why lead them through Hotland at all? Who are you really trying to help? The kid? Monster kind? Your own ego?”

“Why I-! What do you mean by that?” Alphys says with hackles rising and sweat beading on her brow. “Of course I’m trying to help monster kind! But can’t I pretend to be helping the human too? At least I didn’t lie directly to their face like you did!”

“Oh, and what you’re now doing isn’t lying?” Sans challenges.

Alphys is about to make a retort when her companion’s voice interrupts them.

“Sans, can I get two more hotdogs? I want some incase I get hungry on the way back to the ruins.”

“No problem, buddy,” Sans happily complies, his attitude instantly shifting to hide is bitterness. “Hey, good timing. These are my last two.”

“Thanks!” The human says, slipping the hotdogs into their sleeves.

Sans gives Alphys a sour look when the kid turns away. “Just… ask yourself if you really are helping anyone, or if you’re just doing work to look busy.”

Insulted but unwilling to raise her voice with the human so close, Alphys turns away in a huff. All around them, other monsters steadily thin out as their lunch hour ends and they begin to make their way back to work or to school. Through the dissipating crowd she spies two armed figures headed her way, and immediately all her anger at her former colleague drains away.

Two of the royal guards were coming.

Oh crap.

“Sans,” Alphys gasps, absentmindedly placing one hand on the skeleton’s sleeve. The tension in her fingers is enough to relay to him her trepidation and plea for help. There’s no time for words or explanation, and any previous grudges are temporarily put on hold as both monsters scramble into action.

“Oh, hey, kid. I have a favor to ask you,” Sans says to the human to get their focus. “Now that I’m sold out of hotdogs, I should get back to my sentry station, but before I do that I, uh, need to organize all the condiment packets. Do you and Alphys mind helping me sort them out?”

“We’d be happy too!” Alphys decides for them both a little too eagerly. She grabs the kid’s arm and leads them behind the register just before the guards can spot them.

“Great, they’re all back here under the counter.” Sans says, frantically motioning to Alphys to get the kid under the counter where a mountain of ketchup, mustard and relish packets lay in a jumbled pile. “Thanks guys,” Sans exhales as they begin to sort the condiments just as the guards reach the stand.

“Sans!” the first guard says to the skeleton.

“Oh, hey guys. What can I do for you?”

“Hey Sans! We’ve been trying to get to your stand for almost an hour! All the elevators are, like, completely wonky right now though. It took us forever to find a way through! But now that we’re here, we’ll just have our usual two hotdogs!”

“Oh, geez. Sorry fellas,” sans says sincerely. “I just sold my last two.”

“What! Nooo!” the first guard wails, falling to his knees in despair. Alphys pauses her sorting and peaks her head just over the edge of the counter to keep an eye on the guard’s positions. Through his helmet, she can see two white rabbit ears sag in defeat. “Aw man, why’d the elevators have to break on today of all days? I’m sorry, 02.”

“It’s okay, 01. These things happen. It’s not your fault the elevators broke.” The second guard says, placing a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. Only his green dragon fins poke out through his helmet. “I hear the MTT emporium does take out deliveries now. We can order that for lunch.”

“But getting a hotdog each day was our thing, dude! We can’t break tradition! Especially not today, because I was gonna-”

“Hm?” 02 hums.

“…never mind…” 01’s rabbit ears droop as his companion moves to the side and pulls out his cellphone to place his order. Alphys watches the two separate and turn away from the concession stand. She and Sans both exhale in relief. Thank God. They didn’t notice her or the human. Now would be her chance to slip away undetected.

“H-hey, w-we should get going,” She says to the kid, only to realize a moment later they’re not under the counter anymore. Looking around in a panic, she nearly faints when she catches sight of the child tiptoeing up to the first guard from behind.

So much for keeping them hidden from the guards.

Alphys screams internally, not daring to blink. If she runs up to them now, her cover will be blown and the guards will arrest her for treason for sure. Frozen in fear, she can only watch and listen.

“Um, pardon me,” the human speaks up, approaching 01 tentatively. “Do you need help?”

“Aww, I appreciate the concern little bro, but I don’t need any help. Helping other is MY job. It’s what we royal guards are trained to do!”

“I meant with your boyfriend.”

“Woah! What? Who? 02? Pssh! He’s not my boyfriend!” 01 sweats nervously. “Though… though it’s a nice thought if he wanted to be. Unfortunately he doesn’t even know how I feel.”

“He doesn’t? Why haven’t you told him?”

“I was gonna!” 01 explains. “I had it all planned out perfectly, too. I was gonna buy us each a hotdog and we were gonna sit and watch the core together. Then I was gonna take a bite of my hotdog and say ‘Man, this ‘dog’s amazing. But you know what’s even more amazing, bro?’ and then 02 was gonna say ‘what?’ and then I was gonna say ‘you, bro.’”

Even at a distance, Alphys can tell the human has to fight back “aww”ing at the cute mental image of such a sweet and corny confession.

“I’ve been trying to say it for days, but every time 02 asks ‘what’, I chicken out and say something stupid, like ‘this view is amazing’, or ‘this weather’s been amazing.’ We don’t even have weather here. But 02 plays along anyways because he’s a good sport. He probably thinks I’m an idiot.”

“You’ve been trying to say this for weeks?” the human asks.

“Yeah! And today it really was going to be different because today is the one year anniversary since we became royal guards. It was gonna be perfect, but now I’ve missed my chance. I don’t think I’ll have the nerve to try this again until next year.”

“I’m sorry you missed your chance at the hotdog stand,” the kid says empathetically, and pulls out their spare hotdogs. “But today still is your anniversary, and I’ve got two extra hot dogs if you want them.”

“Woah! Little bro, are you serious? I couldn’t possibly take your hotdogs from you. 02 might think I stole them from you.”

“It’s okay. I was gonna save them for later, but it looks like you need them more now than I do.” The human firmly paces the wrapped packages in the guard’s gloved hand. 01 stares at it like he’s been given a priceless diamond.

“Thanks little bro… but what if he says no? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“What if he does and he’s just scared to admit it as well?”

01 seems to ponder this possibility.

“Isn’t it better to have a definite answer than to spend your whole life wondering? And even if he does say no, that doesn’t mean you have to stop being friends.”

“O-okay. I’ll try. For you, little bro.”

Gently taking the hotdogs, 01 stands and turns towards the bench where 02 is seated. The guard inhales then exhales before boldly marching over to the bench while the human stand behinds him silently rooting him on.

“H-hey bro! Great news! I got us two hotdogs!”

“Oh? Did the concession have an extra in stock after all?”

“Y-yeah! Boy did we luck ou-!” Like a scene from a bad comedy, the first royal guard stumbles on the path, falling forward and launching one of the hotdogs into the air which goes sailing over the edge of the platform down into the lava below. The child covers their eyes, unable to look. Alphys flinches at the bad luck.

“Oh no… I’m so sorry dude… I… here, you can have my hotdog instead.”

“But 01, what will you have?”

“Nah, I’m fine bro. Don’t worry about me. I’ve skipped lunch before. Besides, I’d never want to see my best buddy go hungry!”

“01, I couldn’t possibly do that. How about we split the hotdog. It may not be much, but at least we’ll both get something.”

“Stellar idea dude! Man, 02, you’re a genius. This is, like, why I love you, man!”

There’s a moments pause. 01’s ears spring straight up and turn a faint pink hue as he blushes under his fur.

“Uh… I-I mean, like, this is why I love y-you as my partner! You always come up with great ideas. Yep, you’re definitely the brains between the two of us. Ha ha! I had a brain fart for a minute there! I don’t love you like that! I-I mean, well, I do love you, but like, platonically? Ha ha, what am I even saying? Don’t listen to me bro. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say any more.”

“01…”

“Y-yeah, bro?”

“How about… after we split this hotdog, perhaps we can go get some ice cream as well? It is our one year anniversary of becoming official royal guards. You didn’t forget, did you?”

“O-of course I remember bro! How could I forget? Getting ice cream sounds great! Let’s do it!”

02 stands up from the bench and extends his hand. It takes a beat, but when 01 finally understands the invitation he readily grasps it, lacing his fingers through his companion’s before walking off to resume their rounds. Before they’re out of sight, 01 looks back over his shoulder and gives the kid a triumphant thumbs up. The human turns back smiling at Alphys and Sans.

“Wow, kid. I didn’t know you were a match maker,” Sans speaks up.

The kid puffs out their chest a bit and stands a little taller. “Oh, that? That’s nothing. I’ve hooked up more Loox and Froggits than I can count back home. I’ve even found dates for every shy Whimsun and antisocial Migosp.”

“Impressive,” Alphys says finally coming out from behind the counter. She’s genuinely surprised at how well they handled the situation, but that’s enough close calls for her for one day. “But it’s about time we get going, d-don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Let’s get moving before Mettaton shows up again. See you around, Sans!” The kid says waving goodbye.

“Take care, bucko,” Sans sighs. “And Alphys? Don’t do anything you think you’ll regret later.”

Alphys opens her mouth, but no words come out. Instead she clicks her teeth shut and swallows before turning away without looking back.

The human forges ahead with renewed vigor after a good lunch and a good deed, but Alphys is lagging behind.

Despite how hard she tries to shake them, Sans’ words keep buzzing in her head.

”Who are you really trying to help? The kid? Monster kind? Your own ego?”

“Both,” She tells herself under her breath. “It’s both. Even if it’s small, even if it’s temporary, it’s going to make up for all the terrible mistakes I’ve made in the past.”

She repeats the words until they sound true in her ears, but underneath it all, she can’t ignore the fact that the roots of these statements come from lies.

The scientist grinds her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut in frustration. So what if they came from lies? She’s lied before in the past. No doubt she’ll be lying about something again in the future. What was one more lie on the pile now?

But then she sees the child’s face in her mind’s eye, smiling at her, trusting her, relying, depending and believing in her, and the weight of that pile feels like it will crush her-

She doesn’t realize the human has stopped in front of her until she nearly runs into them, and blinks until her mind is back in the present.

“You stopped.” She says, pointing out the obvious. “What’s up?”

“There’re a lot of vents up ahead,” The human says, pointing to the field of steam and metal plates before them. “There’s also a lot of buttons. It could just be another one of Mettaton’s puzzles, but it might also be a trap.”

“Oh, this is definitely just another one of his road blocks to slow us down,” Alphys says, studying the tiles. “I-I’ve seen it before. All the buttons and vents are connected, so when you land on one, it closes one set of vents and opens another.”

“If you’ve seen it before, then does that mean you know how to solve it?” the child asks hopefully.

“I-I’m not sure,” Alphys stutters. “He’s always switching the vents around so the solution’s always changing.”

“Hm. I bet we can figure it out together,” the human says, punching one of their hands into the palm of the other. They give her a confident smile.

“S-sure!” Alphys says without thinking. As much as she’d love to just sit on the side lines and just watch the human try to figure out the correct answer themselves, that trusting smile of theirs wins her over as soon as she sees it and all her previous plans are thrown out the window. Forget what Sans said. It felt good to be the benevolent guide. It felt good to be helping.

Self-assured once more, the human eagerly steps on the first vent and gets launched into the air. They land with grace perfectly on target. There’s a loud clicking noise as opened vents close, and closed vents open.

Studying the vents ahead, they pick a path, keeping track of when a vent will open or close, and trying to plan their route accordingly. A few more hops and the human lands on a bare island without any unavoidable, vent altering buttons.

“I think this is as far as I can go without messing up the last vent!” they yell through cupped hands at her. “Now you try triggering a button!”

“On it! St-stand by!” Stepping on the vent, Alphys squats, ready to take a leap of faith. Below her the pressure of the trapped steam builds until it threatens to burst.

Three… two… one…

With an explosive push, Alphys springs into the air and lands square on the nearest switch. The click echoes through the room.

“Okay! Now I’m gonna go!” her patient alerts her, and jumps on the next vent. They jump again, and then Alphys jumps, and they jump one more time, and-

“It worked!” The human whoops, landing on the other side. They turn around just in time to catch Alphys making it to the other side as well.

Feeling like they could take on anything, the human blazes ahead into the next room where a circular conveyer belt spans a gap and three buttons lay in wait along its side.

“I know this puzzle, too,” Alphys says. “All three switches have to be pressed within a few seconds of one another, but they’re way too spaced out for one monster to hit all at once.”

“Good thing there’s more than one monster, huh?” The kid winks at her. “I think I can hit the last two. Do you think you can hit the first one?”

“Certainly!” The scientist enthuses. “Go on three?”

It takes the pair two tries to get their timing down, but they get it right on their third try. The human roars in triumph and Alphys can’t help but give a little cheer herself. Their confidence is contagious. Together, she felt like they could do anything.

Puzzles conquered, they steadily continue forward. The platforms wind and twist into an incline, up further and further towards the next shadowy ceiling, until another stage set shrouded in darkness lays before them.

“This has ‘trap’ written all over it,” Alphys says.

“If you know it’s there…” the kid says sagely. “Is it still a trap? Or is it a dare?” They rub their hands together in anticipation, bright sparks leaping from their fingertips. “I say we make a break for it. Maybe if we’re fast enough, he won’t catch us.”

“A-alright,” Alphys gulps. “Go on three?”

“Yeah! Just like before!”

Alphys can’t help but smile. It was startling how quickly she and the human learned to work together and how cooperative they were. She’d have to remember to write that down after they escaped Mettaton’s next “trap.”

“Okay. O-on Three,” the doctor says, bracing themselves to sprint. “One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

Putting on a burst of speed, the scientist and human make a run for it in the total dark, trusting the other to stay by their side.

The hum of the laser is all the warning she gets, and she puts on the breaks, grabbing the human’s sleeve in the pitch black to make them do the same.

“Stop!” She warns, just as a dozen vertical blue lasers cut through the darkness, inches from the kid’s face.

“Quick! Retreat!” The human shouts, and tries to make a break to the left, but either the lasers sense their movement, or they were too slow, because blue lasers come to life on their sides and behind them, cutting off any route of escape. Then, from within the box of lasers itself another row of beams slice the air between the monster and human, separating them into their own cells.

“Alphys!” The human cries, trying to reach out to her. The lasers snap at them with a scolding pop of electricity when they try to touch the beams, and the human pulls back, shaking their hand furiously to rid their fingers of the biting sting.

“D-don’t move!” Alphys tells them. “As long as you stay still, the lasers can’t hurt you!”

There’s a familiar booming sound of stage lights turning on, and suddenly the endless darkness is replaced with blinding light.

“Grab your sledgehammers and sawhorses, because it’s time for D.I.Y. Darling!” A voice says over a musical track. “Here’s your host and computer-slash-carpenter! Mettaton!”

Alphys blinks repeatedly until the spots vanish from her vision and she takes in her surroundings. Once again three walls boarder the stage, but instead of being filled with children’s toys, the walls are lined with carpenter tools and crafting supplies. Circle saws, blow torches, wrenches, screw drivers and hammers hang on the walls in neat organized rows from biggest to smallest. Rows of drawers labeled with construction paper, googly eyes, safety scissors and glue sticks line the back wall. A giant pile of saw dust sits between a dangerous looking wood chipper and an industrial sized vat of glitter. Cans of paint are stacked in a pyramid next to a giant bin filled with a hodgepodge of nails, washers, nuts and bolts. Good god, it was like an unholy hybrid of a woodshop and a child’s craft corner in here.

Polite, organic applause plays from the sidelines. Alphys blinks in surprise. Did Mettaton really have a live studio audience this time? And for a D.I.Y show?? Who did he bribe?

“Welcome back, beauties and gentle beauties,” Mettaton says, rolling onto the set. “Today on D.I.Y. Darling we have two very special guests; my dear friend, the brilliant, Doctor Alphys and the underground’s newest celebrity boss monster!” There’s more applause, this time a little more excited than the first. “Today’s episode’s sponsored product is the MTT-brand home security system, guaranteed to catch any crook attempting to break in, or house guest trying to break out without saying goodbye first! As my dear friend Doctor Alphys and her companion have demonstrated, this product works on all monsters, even boss monsters!”

A neon sign out of sight of the camera directs the audience to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’.

“That’s right, beauties and gentle beauties! Call in right now and you can get the MTT-brand home security system today for the low price of two ninety-nine gold, or find it in any retail store near you for three ninety-nine!”

“Okay, okay, you proved your point and caught us,” the human grumbles. “Now let us go!”

“Not so fast, sweetheart!” Mettaton scolds. “Those were just the sponsors! The real show hasn’t even begun!”

Pushing a button on his chassis, the lasers of their cages switch from blue to white and begin to shift, separating the pair and forcing them to move forward or be zapped by the electricity. Alphys can see their prisons are moving towards two ominous red “X”s, and swallows. Sure, the Xs could simply be used for stage directing, but her hopes weren’t high.

As if on cue, shackles spring from trap doors on the floor once they’re over their targets, and clamp around their ankles, chaining them in place. Once secured, the lasers switch off.

“What-?”

Distracted by the ankle cuff, Alphys doesn’t notice Mettaton swoop in behind her until he’s confiscated her backpack from right off her shoulders.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, darling!” Mettaton says completely unapologetically as he wheels out of reach. “We can’t have any unauthorized equipment in this workshop! You can get it back after the show ends, which is to say, never!”

Beside her, the human grunts and growls as they struggle to get the shackle off their leg. Mettaton watches for a second before pressing a button in his chassis to play a laugh track on his speakers.

“An admirable attempt, darling, but save your energy for the show! Without Alphys’ little gadgets, there’s no way you can hack your way out of this trap. Not that you could even if she did have her little gadgets! There’s no substitute for good ol’ reliable steel chains!”

With their feet shackled, a new trap door opens in front of them, and a carpenter’s work bench rises from its depths. Across its top, hammers, nails and pieces of wood in various sizes and shapes are strewn before them. Mettaton turns back to the camera.

“This week on D.I.Y. Darling, we will be continuing our series on functional décor by building a classic; a bird house! It’s fun for family and friends of all ages!”

“Let us go, Mettaton,” Alphys warns him. “You can’t keep us here forever!”

“Oh, but darling, I can!” The robot says sweetly. “You two are going to help me build the most extravagant things! Vanity mirrors that only reflect images of my face! Coffee tables in my likeness with matching coaster set! Bureaus in my form! Wood! Marble! Metal! We’ll D.I.Y. it all!”

“And if we refuse?”

Mettaton picks up a handsaw and studies his reflection in it. “Oh, I know you won’t,” he says menacingly. “Trust me.”

“If we build your dumb bird house, will you let us go?” the human asks.

“Why, of course not!” Mettaton says cheerfully. “I’ve learned my lesson last time! Never make deals with royal scientists or their little boss monster friends. They’ll just find a loophole to get out of it, or worse, they’ll trap you inside a force field while they break their end of the bargain!”

“But Mettaton! This isn’t fair!”

“Where in the law is it written that it has to be fair, Alphys? Hm?”

“Well, what about being a good sport?”

“Alphys, darling, this is my D.I.Y. show. Sports are on channel seventy-two and I won’t be filming that block for at least another month when sports come back into season again. Now, if you’re done with your interruptions, I must make sure that the watchers at home have all the necessary supplies if they wish to build along with us. Darlings at home, before you begin, make sure you have all the following items…”

While Mettaton is busy listing off all the materials, Alphys takes the moment’s distraction to talk to the human.

“D-don’t panic. I’ve got a plan. I-I’m going to pick the locks on our ankle cuffs while he’s not looking and get us out of here. You just by me some time like you did before.”

The human nods once, short and quick.

“Ready folks?” Mettaton asks the crowd. They cheer obediently.

“And are my lovely assistants ready as well?”

“I guess it looks like we don’t have much of a choice!” the human over exaggerates, flinging their arms wide in despair. “It looks like you’ve truly out witted us this time Mettaton. I will build a bird house with you.”

“Excellent! Let us get started!” Mettaton rolls up to the table, taking his place at the end, with the human between him and Alphys. His case buzzes and chirps as it begins to print out a mile long blue print and instruction sheet that nearly covers the entire work table.

“First step lovelies, find the two pentagon pieces and set them aside…”

The human scratchers their head. Watching Mettaton, they try to copy his steps. Alphys pretends to do the same, waiting for an opportunity to make her next move.

As discretely as she can, Alphys pockets a nail and picks up her hammer. The human looks at her out of the corner of their eye, and Alphys nods at them ever so slightly. Then she “accidentally” drops the hammer. A second later and she yowls in legitimate pain while hopping on one foot.

“Alphys! Sweetheart! Are you alright?” Mettaton cuts off his speech to address her directly.

“O-oh! Y-yes, I’m fine! I’ve j-just got butter fingers is all! Don’t mind me, I just dropped my hammer. I’ll just…. I’ll just pick that up now.”

Flushing with embarrassment, Alphys sinks to the floor and rubs her smarting foot. While she had intentionally knocked the hammer off the table top to give her an excuse to duck beneath the counter, she certainly hadn’t meant for it to hit her. Oh well. Better to just roll with it. Maybe if everyone thought she was too embarrassed now to show her face, she’d get away with a little extra time under the counter.

Taking a deep breath, Alphys takes out the nail from her pocket and inspects the lock on her ankle. Mettaton hadn’t been lying; these cuffs weren’t any fancy computer controlled digital locks, just the plain old tumbler and bolt kind.

Actually, it was even simpler than that- it was really just a simple hook and latch covered in metal so it looked more complicated, but if one knew where the secret button was hidden, that when pressed, lifted the hook from the latch causing the shackle to fall apart, someone could escape in a matter of seconds.

Still, Alphys pretended to pick the decoy lock on the outside of her cuff while the human continued to build with Mettaton, and the camera crews filmed.

“Alright beauties at home, our next step is to assemble the roof. You will find two asymmetrical rectangular pieces labeled “roof”. Make sure the slightly wider piece overlaps the smaller, and nail them together at each corner…”

While the cameras roll, Alphys thoughts drift back to what Sans had said. What was she going to do after the kid conquered all her and Mettaton’s silly tests? The kid has been incredibly nice to everyone, especially her. Could she really just… betray them like that at the end of the day? Oh, what would it matter? She’s already lied so much too so many, she’d disappointed and let down and angered so many people. What would the human hating her as well change? Not like it mattered. After the human went to the king, all monsters would be free. Who would have time to worry about hating her then?

“Alright lovelies at home, we have now finished the bird house! But we can’t give these plain barren homes to potential birds! Let’s add some artistic detail to give it a little flair!” Mettaton says.

Alphys glances at her watch. Okay, they were about half way done, so it was time to stop pretending to mess with her lock and switch over to the human’s.

“And what better way than to add a little flare than with some actual fire!”

Above her head, a jet of fire magic roasts the air and a chorus of gasps and “aaahs” echo from the crowd. Alphys pauses for a moment to get a peak of the commotion.

Beside the human, Mettaton has his bird house raised high above his head in one hand while his other hand conjures fire magic to burn intricate designs into the wood. Tongues of flame gently graze over the surface, delicately scorching their pattern with precision and intent as the magic fire bends to the robot’s will. When the flames die down, Mettaton lowers his arm to reveal the finished product. The live studio audience erupts into cheers. Even Alphys has to admit she’s impressed. While every face of the bird house has a picture of Mettaton in some ridiculous pose, each one is incredibly detailed, right down to his rivets. The use of shades and tones is impeccable, and the edges are boarded with rose patterns, complete with tiny thorns.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Mettaton bows. “But don’t use up all your applause just yet! That was just a little show of a common monster’s fire magic. I’ve heard boss monster magic is something truly to behold! What do you say, gorgeous? Care to show us your skill?”

Under the table, Alphys’ breath quickens. What luck! This test was originally just to observe the human’s logical puzzle solving skills. She hadn’t anticipated capturing their magical aptitude as well. Was she truly going to see the human’s magical prowess up close? They had reported being able to do fire magic on her questionnaire, but she could hardly believe the claim. All her research on humans had said otherwise. Now she’d really know for certain.

“Y-you want me to show you my fire magic?” the human blinks, taken off guard.

“Indubitably!” Mettaton says. “Surely your talent far surpasses anything we normal monsters could ever hope to achieve! We would love to get a glimpse of such splendor! Please darling! Dazzle us!”

Apprehensively, the human looks at their bird house. They visibly swallow.

“I like my bird house how it is.” They say. “I don’t really want to decorate it.”

“Ah, yes. Minimalistic is very in style right now,” Mettaton agrees. “How trite of me to ask you to embellish a simple bird house. But we have to give the people what they want, darling! A full grandiose display of your magic power!”

“I-I don’t want to seem like a show off,” the human resists.

“Nonsense, darling! No need to be modest and hide something as simple as fire magic! That is… unless you can’t DO fire magic…”

“I can do fire magic,” the human says hotly. “It’s just that… I’m not that practiced and I’ve never tried to light anything thicker than a branch before…”

“Then now’s the perfect time to try, darling! Give it your all!”

“O-okay,” The human stutters, stalling for time. Glancing at Alphys, they beg her to hurry up with their eyes, but Alphys pretends not to see.

Pushed into a corner with no way out, they swallow and face the live audience. They raise their arms wide apart and squeeze their eyes shut.

“H-here I go! Ready! One…! Two…! Three!”

With a massive clap, sparks fly like a blown fuse and rain down on their bird house, but not one ember even discolors the wood. The human, already grimacing in despair, opens one eye. The crowd stares at them, some in confusion, some in disappointment, and several in pity.

“Hm! That didn’t seem to work,” Mettaton notes. “Ah! I see the problem! These gloves are blocking your power! Here, let me take care of those,” Mettaton says taking the mittens off the human’s hands.

“H-hey! Stop! I need those!”

“Whatever for, darling? Boss monsters don’t need silly clothing for magic. Though I must say white gloves are all the rage!” Mettaton points finger guns at them to show off his own gloved hands.

The human tries to jump up and grab their gloves back, but the chain on their ankle holds them fast as Mettaton dangles them tauntingly out of reach, and Alphys has to jerk her hands back to avoid her fingers being stamped on.

“What’s the holdup darling? Stage fright? Performance anxiety? Or perhaps… is boss monster magic not all it’s cracked up to be? Or! What’s this? Have we just exposed a boss monster who can’t cast magic? Oh, it is isn’t it! That’s a title for the papers tomorrow!”

“Alright, you caught me,” the human’s voice hitches as their face grows red and their eyes well with tears. They manage to swipe their gloves back, and pull them on before hiding their hands in their crossed arms. “So I can’t do fire magic, or any kind of magic on my own. Happy now?”

“It’s alright, darling! We understand! Not every monster can perform magic tricks. In fact…” Mettaton leans in close. “You know who else can’t perform magic?”

Alphys sharply looks up. Where was Mettaton going with this?

“Uhh…” the human eyes him wearily, also lost with where this was headed.

“Why, our dear acquaintance Doctor Alphys!”

Mettaton pushes a button on his chassis and the work table Alphys had been hiding behind lowers back into the ground, exposing her and her lock picking. The crowd gasps in shock.

Uh-oh. The jig was up.

“What’s this?!” Mettaton gasps, dramatically throwing an arm across the top row of his screens where his forehead would be. “Alphys?! Are you trying to escape!?”

“N-not trying! Succeeding!” Alphys says, stalling no longer and unlocking the human’s cuff. “Run for it!”

The human springs, not needing to be told twice. Mettaton spins around, revving up his wheel ready to give chase, but before he can floor it, Alphys clamps the shackle on his exposed axel. Mettaton lurches forward, only to fall flat on his face.

Alphys hops over him, but turns back in concern when she hears him crash.

“Oh, geez, Mettaton are you okay?” She whispers.

“I’m fine, darling! I’m fine! It’s all part of the act! Now go! Go! The camera’s still rolling and I have to make this look convincing!”

“Alphys hurry! He’s probably got they key!” the human reminds her when they get to the other end of the stage. “We gotta get out of her before he breaks loose!”

“O-on it!” Alphys says catching up to them.

“Blast! Foiled again by the great Doctor Alphys! You have bested me this time, darling! But like star crossed lovers, our paths will meet again! Until next time beautiful!”

The human doesn’t wait around to hear the end of Mettaton’s speech. As soon as Alphys catches up to them, they take off running without looking back.

#undertale #my writing #fan fiction #you monster #alphys #mettaton #sans #frisk #and an honorable mention for RG01 and RG02

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