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thedamselzelda · 6 months ago

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Two Hearts Torn

Featuring: Fyodor Dostoevsky & Dazai Osamu

Summary: Broken, beaten, battered, and bruised. What keeps a heart from beating as one? For two, it's torn between losses and consequences of years past. However, in this twisted game, only calculated moves will stitch these hearts back together.

word count: 7.7k+, fem!reader, HOTD!reader, nsfw (oral sex m! receiving, unprotected sex, quick moment of domestic abuse [possessive Fyodor, very unhealthy relationship]), reader referred to with other names (no use of y/n), Russian words used (general meanings at the end), reader dissociates.

Author Chat: After an overwhelming poll, I have written another part of this story (tbh, I was a little too happy for it to win)! This part isn't as dark as I originally wrote it, as I couldn't bring myself to slander Fyodor too much. What can I say, the man is my #3 (behind my b-day buddy Chuya and my #1 Dazai ofc).

I also feel the need to mention before this part that this is an installment apart of the Beast AU. Yes, reader is married to Fyodor, however, the story is primarily a Dazai x reader story.

Hope you guys enjoy!

previous part ~ next part | LBH masterlist | BSD Masterverse

You stared at your reflection in the ornate vanity mirror, the face looking back at you feeling strangely unfamiliar. With delicate movements, you began to remove the bobby pins from your hair, allowing each strand to cascade onto your shoulders. Your eyes, a striking violet, searched your own gaze in the mirror, desperately grasping for clarity amidst the whirlwind of memories from the night. A weary sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes and rested your head in your hands, succumbing to the flood of memories about him. The lingering effect he had on you was both frustrating and thrilling, a contradiction that left you feeling dizzy.

There was no doubt in your mind about the reason for his visit - he came solely to see you. The realization sent a shiver down your spine. Yet, his unexpected question about what it would take for you to leave the House of the Dead, to abandon your husband, had caught you completely off guard, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

You extended your arm forward, observing the glistening ring on your finger. The alexandrite stone caught the dim light of your boudoir, its colors shifting mesmerizingly from a deep emerald to a rich purple as you turned your hand. Regret washed over you like a cold wave, seeping into your bones as you contemplated your choice of gem. The stone, his birthstone, now felt like a silent betrayal, a constant reminder of the man you couldn't forget, couldn't refrain from loving despite everything. Disgust rose in your throat, bitter and biting, as you berated yourself for not choosing a simple, neutral diamond instead. The realization that your heart had once again acted without your conscious consent left you feeling raw and exposed.

Your mind drifted to the circumstances of your marriage to Fyodor. The decision felt rushed, almost impulsive in hindsight. It served no real purpose for either of you beyond Fyodor's antiquated notion of propriety. His timid words echoed in your memory, tinged with an air of pious restraint:

"I could not lay with you unless we were wed..."

You rolled your eyes at the thought, irritation prickling beneath your skin like tiny needles. Initially, aligning yourself with Fyodor had been a calculated move, a way to strike back at Dazai and the unfair hand of cards you had been dealt in life. But over time, it had evolved into something more complex, a relationship built on stolen moments - chaste kisses on hands and lips, always restrained by his devout adherence to religious principles. His unwavering commitment to God frustrated you; for what cruel deity would curse you with such an ability?

The irony of your situation wasn't lost on you. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined yourself married, not even to Dazai. Life within the Mafia, and now in the House of the Dead, seemed incompatible with such conventional milestones. You had been content in your life with Dazai, before his gradual descent into whatever labyrinthine plans now consumed him.

Now, you found yourself in a precarious position. Isolated, you focused your efforts on seizing The Book from Dazai, the key to Fyodor's grand plan of overwriting this hellish reality. The weight of this mission hung heavy on your shoulders, a constant reminder of the complex web of loyalties, desires, and regrets that now defined your existence.

A soft click of your bedroom door stole you from your thoughts, your eyes shifting in the mirror to the figure entering your room. Fyodor's reflection appeared behind you, his rich purple eyes tired, as if he had paused his work to come and deal with you.

"Oh, moya lyubov', I wasn't expecting you." The lie slipped easily from your lips, even as you knew he would see through it. You had expected him, especially after how easily Nikolai had caught on to the change in your demeanor. Damn Nikolai...

"Moya zhena, I hear you've had quite the exciting day." His voice was smooth, yet laced with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite place.

You made no indication of moving from your position as you looked up at Fyodor in the mirror. His weary smile was laced with fondness, yet you could detect icy undertones beneath the surface. He drifted over to you, his movements graceful despite his apparent exhaustion. His hands, cool and slender, came to rest upon your shoulders as he leaned down to place a kiss upon your undone hair.

His warm breath caressed your scalp, his lips parting as if on the verge of speech. Before he could utter a word, you smoothly began recounting your evening, carefully omitting any mention of Dazai's appearance.

"It was so tedious," you sighed, reaching for your makeup remover. "And now I'll have to get the carpet replaced." You dabbed at your face, the cool liquid erasing the traces of the night. Fyodor merely hummed in response, his intense gaze following your every movement.

"I suppose I'll have to search for a new group to take on the Port Mafia," you continued, your tone deliberately casual. "Maybe I should seek help from that Detective Agency. Perhaps they would work for the right price."

"No," Fyodor interjected sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. You turned; shock evident on your features. He had never disagreed with your suggestions before, always supporting your efforts to obtain The Book.

His knuckles grazed your cheek, sending an involuntary chill down your spine. His lips curled into a malicious smile, violet eyes glittering dangerously in the dim light.

"Moy dorogoy, you've never been a terrible liar," he purred, his voice silky smooth yet laced with venom. "However, the secrets you keep have always been so apparent."

Your eyes narrowed as you searched the storm brewing before you. Suddenly, his hand wrapped around your throat, swift and firm, forcing you to your feet. The pressure increased, making each breath a struggle.

His face hovered mere millimeters from yours, his breath fanning over your lips. "You forget yourself, moya zhena. You belong to me. I know every move you make here, malen'kaya mysh'."

A desperate squeak escaped you as you gasped for air, your fingers clawing at his hand. "I know, please," you managed to choke out.

"He was here tonight," Fyodor hissed, his eyes blazing. "And I hear you two did more than just talk."

He released you abruptly, causing you to stumble back. You massaged your throat, gulping in fresh air. After regaining your composure, a smirk played on your lips. "All this because I danced with him?"

In a fluid motion, the back of his hand struck across your face, swinging back up to grasp the back of your head firmly. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper, "He is still in love with you. From how you feign the mere mention of him, I would suspect that you, moya lyubyashchaya zhena, also still love him."

A pain sparked upon your lips as you smirked, a breathy laugh escaping as you slipped into Russian, "Budto. It's as you suggested; I have initiated another plan by indulging him in a dance is all."

His eyes softened slightly, his grip on your scalp loosening. "Speak."

"He wants me to come back, to rejoin the Mafia," you explained, the words flowing effortlessly. "We can use that. Let me slip back into his good graces. He's bound to eventually have me up in his office. There, I can do what none of those assassins could, and take The Book for ourselves."

His anger was quickly replaced at your obedience, a soft smile reappearing. "Chudesnyy, moya lyubov'. I believe that is a great plan."

His eyes darted to your lips, urging you to quickly grasp the collar of his white buttoned shirt and pulled him into a kiss. His eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you lightly. You could feel him reveling in your compliance. His hand drifted from the nape of your neck, down to your waist, pulling you flush to him. His lips danced among yours, fervently melting.

Your fingers deftly toyed with the hem of his pants, coaxing a chuckle from your lover’s lips. He hummed as your body pressed against his, your hands slipping past the cloth to grasp his hardened cock. You smile at his breathy moan by your mere touch, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"What you do to me, ty lisitsa." His eyes trailed you as you dipped down to your knees. His fingers combed into your hair, pulling every last strand from your face. Your eyes panned to his as you pulled his pants down slightly to free his hardened, leaky member. One hand rested upon his hip, the other supporting him as your tongue slips out, barely brushing against his tip, tasting the salty cream from his slit. He hissed, rocking himself forward slightly to you. You hum, releasing his gaze, closing your eyes as you opened your mouth to fully take him in.

"Ugn, so beautiful, moya lyubov'." His praises reach your ears; his lips uttering your name, like a thankful prayer to his God above.

His tip reaches the back of your throat, and your eyes squeeze together to feign from gagging. You draw back slightly, barely parting your lips to allow your tongue to trail behind. Your hand pumping in your lips wake, applying gentle pressure.

He gathered your hair into one hand, using the freedom to brush a dripping tear from your cheek. "Takaya khoroshaya devochka."

Your lips close around his cock once more, dipping yourself to push your nose flush with his hips. You suppress a gag once more as your throat spasms against his length.

"I must have you, moya lyubov'," his voice shaky, nearly causing you to laugh at his submissive behavior. You don’t release him just yet, however, gently sucking as you bob upon him. His knees slightly buckle at your defiance, earning a tug of your hair, pulling you from him.

He pulls you to stand by your hair, a slight burn forming from the aggressive pull. He releases you, grasping at the vanity seat to shove it out of the way. You were next on his brief redecorating of your room. Grasping you firmly by your hips, eagerly pulling at the skirt of your formfitting dress and forcing it up to your waist. His hands roughly grip onto you before pushing you into the vanity.

You’re lifted by Fyodor to sit upon the cold surface, legs slotting open as he aggressively grasps your face to kiss you once more, as if it was his last dying breath. His member plays at your clothed cunt, slightly dripping from your arousal. His hand leaves your face, his fingers tugging at the cloth to pull it aside, aligning himself. He pulls at your waist once more, fixing the angle to allow himself to slide between your plush walls.

“Fuck!” You sharply exhale, your eyes slotting closed. Instinctively, you lurched forward to grasp onto him, and to rest your chin upon his shoulder. Your hands rested upon his nape and back, holding onto him as his hands gripped yours in a way that would leave bruises behind. His lips grazed your neck, leaving behind a trail of kisses and soft bites.

Your eyes slowly opened as his thrusts grew sloppier, evident of his impending release within you. Across from you, you saw your reflection in the closet mirror, allowing you to observe the explicit moment before you. However, your mind saw and heard different; the black hair entangled within your hands was brown and curly, the muffled, breathy moans against your neck were replaced with lowly grunts and words of praise, and the suit of the man before you became stained black.

You wanted to utter his name as you felt your release, like a call out to him to stay far away from the danger you would inflict upon him. Yet, you stifled the moan by biting your lip as you felt a warmth fill you to your core.

Fyodor sighed contently, releasing you from his harsh grip. He pulled his softening cock from your cunt, his seed dripping from you. He stepped to the side, observing his appearance within the mirror as he begins to fix himself before leaving you.

“I will get started on that plan tomorrow, moy dorogoy.” You utter as you slide from the vanity.

“Ochen' khorosho,” were his parting words to you as he began to leave for the door. You slip your dress back down, not worrying about the state of it. You notice as you look up that he is awaiting your attention before amending his last words. “See you in my next life, moy angel smerti.”

You give out a plain breathy laugh, “Till true death do us part, moya lyubov'.”

The pulsing energy of weekend nights had faded, replaced by the more subdued atmosphere of a weekday evening at The Midnight's Caress. Yet, even on these quieter nights, the club maintained a steady flow of patrons - a mix of devoted regulars and wide-eyed tourists drawn to its allure. Tonight, however, held special significance. A special visitor had arrived, someone who held a place in your heart from the days before Dazai's induction into the Port Mafia.

You made your entrance with practiced grace, descending from the second-floor terrace. Your presence commanded attention, drawing admiring glances from across the dimly lit space. Ignoring the adoration, your gaze remained fixed on your destination - the sleek bar opposite the sunken dance floor and stage.

A solitary figure occupied one of the barstools. Even from a distance, you recognized the familiar shock of unkempt auburn hair and the well-worn light brown overcoat. As you approached, you watched him raise an ornate crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid to his lips.

"And here I thought," you began, your voice carrying a hint of amusement as rich chocolate eyes met yours, “that you avoided lurking around Mafia territory at all costs, mister detective”

A warm smile spread across the man's face as he spoke your name, his tone tinged with fondness. “Well, if it's to see an old friend, I'm willing to take my chances.”

You feigned offense, placing your hands on your hips in mock indignation. “Sakunosuke Oda, did you just call me old?”

His head fell into a gentle shake, accompanied by a soft laugh that seemed to momentarily erase the tension from his features. You joined in his laughter, sliding onto the barstool next to him. While maintaining a careful distance, you positioned yourself to face outward, keeping a vigilant eye on the space between you and the stage.

Glancing sideways, you studied Oda's familiar profile, your gaze lingering on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. A mischievous glint sparked in your eye as you asked, your voice a playful whisper, "Did you pay for that?"

Oda's eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of amusement passing through them before he looked back down at the tumbler. His voice was steady, tinged with a hint of pride. "Of course."

You sighed, rolling your eyes in exaggerated exasperation. Leaning across the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you beckoned the blonde bartender with a subtle, elegant gesture. "Reimburse him," you commanded, your tone leaving no room for argument, the words crisp and authoritative in the dimly lit space.

"No, you don't have to do that," Oda protested, a faint blush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

Your response was swift and sharp, cutting through the ambient noise of the club. "He does if he would like to keep his job." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play in this world you both inhabited, albeit from different sides. You softened your tone slightly, adding, "My friends do not need to worry about such things here."

A teasing glint returned to Oda's eyes as he accepted his reimbursement. "Oh, you have friends now?" he quipped, his voice warm with familiarity."Oda!" You laughed, the sound genuine and unguarded. "I almost do want to make you pay now."

"That was the goal," he replied, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. He stuffed the money into his pants pocket before grasping his glass once more.

The bartender materialized behind you, placing an identical tumbler filled with amber liquid onto the bar. You gave the glass a cursory glance before turning your attention back to the club.

Oda's voice drew you back from your reverie, curiosity evident in his warm tone. "So, how is it, being a club owner?"

"Boring," you replied dryly, a hint of amusement in your eyes. "How is it, being a detective?"

"Anything but boring. I'm always doing something, it feels like," Oda responded, his voice carrying a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.

You nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing your face. Memories of your shared past flickered through your mind, a reminder of the complex relationship that bound you both.

Oda's voice softened as he continued, "We just recently recruited this boy."A breathy chuckle escaped your lips. "So, you've taken in another orphan. I swear, are you raising an army over there?"

Oda's rich laughter echoed within the glass at his lips, the sound warm and comforting. "It does seem like that, doesn't it?" He paused, his expression growing more serious. "I worry about this boy. I picked him up on the riverbank, and he attempted to attack me."

You listened intently, grateful for the chance to lend an ear to your friend's concerns. The ambient noise of the club faded into the background as you focused on Oda's words.

"I don't know what it is about this boy," Oda continued, his brow furrowing slightly. "He's in search of his sister... harbors the unruliest plans for this man that he describes as 'the man in black.'"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you turned to meet Oda's intrigued gaze. "This boy," you began cautiously, "does he have black hair? Two little tufts of white on the ends?"

Oda gave a hesitant nod, his hand now outstretched to offer you your glass. You accepted it carefully, the cool crystal a stark contrast to the warmth of realization spreading through you.

"Be careful of that boy. I remember his name clearly. Akutagawa Ryūnosuke." Your voice lowered, heavy with the weight of memory. You looked down at your glass, tapping your fingers along its surface rhythmically. "I was there when the Port Mafia found him, shortly before I left for Italy. There were plans to recruit him. However, it was determined... that he was unfit to join us."

Your eyes rose to meet Oda's, his face a careful mask hiding his thoughts. "There is a beast inside of that boy, Oda. I pray that you teach and guide him, to learn to tame it."

You paused, bringing the crystal glass to your lips for a sip. As the whiskey touched your tongue, your eyes widened in surprise. You pulled the glass back, glancing towards the shelves behind the bar. Your gaze settled on a familiar bottle, its amber contents glowing softly in the low light. You eyed it with a mixture of suspicion and resigned amusement. That snake, you thought, recognizing Dazai's handiwork in the choice of spirits.

Shaking your head slightly, you made a mental note to address that matter later. Your voice grew heavy with warning as you continued, "Or that beast will one day consume him. I've seen it near happen to the boy they did take in."

Oda's brow furrowed in concern. "I can agree; I share those thoughts exactly. Do you, by chance, know what happened to his sister?"

You gave a curt shake of your head, the movement causing the dim lights to dance across your features. "I know that the Port Mafia took her, however, I don't know what became of her."

Oda finished off the rest of the whiskey in his glass, the ice clinking softly as he set it before the bartender for a refill. "I see," he murmured, his voice tinged with disappointment.

A moment of contemplative silence fell between you, the ambient noise of the club fading into the background. You could feel Oda's gaze studying your face as you surveyed the array of guests for the evening, your eyes scanning the crowd with practiced ease.

"So, what happened with that?" Oda's question broke the silence, his hand gesturing towards his own lip and the side of his face.

"Oh," you replied, feigning ignorance about your appearance. You had attempted to cover the cut on your lip and the small bruise that had formed across your cheekbone from the night before. "Just an unruly guest. Unfortunate, and obviously for him, he didn't make it."

Oda hummed, a note of skepticism in his tone. It was clear he didn't fully believe the story you had fabricated. You huffed as you finished the rest of your glass, the warm liquid burning a path down your throat. Turning to him, you shifted the conversation once more. "What about your book? When will I be able to read the first draft?"

A soft smile graced Oda's features as he looked back down into his glass, swirling the amber liquid absently. "I've been having horrible writer's block. I know what I want to say, it's just getting it to paper that's the problem."

"Well," you gave a breathy chuckle, rising from your seat with fluid grace. His eyes met yours, a shared understanding passing between you. You both knew these encounters were rare and precious, a stark contrast to your shared youth. "You know where I'll be, ready to receive and critique. But to love it all the same."

"For the long wait, how about I dedicate it to you?" Oda offered, a hint of warmth in his voice.

You gave a warm smile, placing your hands upon your chest in dramatic adoration. The gesture was playful, but the emotion behind it was genuine. "Awe, Oda. You do care!"

Oda's head dipped down once more, his shoulders shaking with muffled laughter. You took a deep breath, the familiar ache of longing settling in your chest. More than anything, you wished you could embrace him, to feel the comfort of his brotherly affection that had been so freely given in your childhood. You knew deep down that he wished the same; on several occasions, he had forgotten the limitations of your ability, only to be reminded by Flawless.

"I have business I have to attend to, but you may stay as long as you like," you said, your voice softening with regret at having to cut the reunion short. You tapped the polished bar top twice, a silent signal to your bartender. He understood immediately, preparing your glass as well as a secondary pour of the whiskey you had been drinking.

Grasping the two crystal tumblers, the amber liquid catching the low light, you gave a final look to your dear friend. Your eyes lingered on his face, committing every detail to memory. "See you around, Odasaku," you said, the nickname slipping out unexpectedly.

Oda's eyebrows raised slightly, a quizzical look crossing his features at the unfamiliar moniker. You found yourself equally surprised, giving him a small shrug in response. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a warm smile, and he raised his glass in a silent toast as you began to walk away.

Your heels clicked softly on the polished floor as you made your way back toward the staircase leading to your office. The weight of the glasses in your hands was a tangible reminder of the responsibilities waiting for you, pulling you away from this brief moment of connection. As you ascended the stairs, you could feel Oda's gaze following you, a bittersweet mixture of fondness and longing that mirrored your own emotions.

Dazai's keen eyes followed your figure as you made your way back up to your office. His gaze then darted to Oda, who was nodding to the bartender, offering thanks and sliding money across the polished bar top. A wry smile found its way onto Dazai's face as he admired Oda's persistence in compensating the man. He felt a familiar twinge of jealousy watching you two interact from afar, reminded of the bond you and Oda shared which transcended any version of yourselves.

Turning away from the window, Dazai met your gaze as you entered the office. The soft click of the door closing behind you seemed to punctuate the sudden shift in atmosphere.

"Thank you, Dimitri," you called out, your eyes never leaving Dazai's. He could tell by the set of your jaw that he was in trouble, especially noting the two crystal tumblers in your hands. You raised an eyebrow questioningly, holding up the glasses. "We've only reconnected for one night, and you decided to take it upon yourself to amend my liquor choices?"

Dazai suppressed a small laugh, gratefully accepting the offered glass. The crystal was cool against his fingers. "I only had Chūya go up to the bar and request a drink. When the bartender replied that you don't supply this brand, I had it ordered and shipped to you immediately."

He watched you roll your eyes, unamused but continuing to listen before objecting. The light from the desk lamp cast dramatic shadows across your face, emphasizing the slight furrow of your brow.

"What can I say? Something just told me I'd be back here sooner than expected, so I made a few liberties—"

"Liberties?" You scoffed, though there was a hint of amusement in your tone. You glided past him, the subtle scent of your perfume lingering in the air. Settling back into your chair, you continued, "You quite literally had my bartender stock something without my knowledge, most likely due to knowing it was the Port Mafia Boss's favorite."

Dazai savored the rich, smoky flavor of the whiskey as he took a long sip, a contented sigh escaping his lips. He gracefully lowered himself into one of the chairs facing your desk, his keen eyes noting how they seemed slightly out of place in the otherwise meticulously arranged office. During your absence, he had seized the opportunity to explore the room, his observant gaze catching details that others might overlook.

A rug, he deduced, had once adorned the space before your desk. Now, a faint square of fresh wood flooring, spanning no more than six feet, stood in stark contrast to the worn, darker planks surrounding it. At the center of this cleaned area, Dazai's sharp eyes detected a slightly darker outline. His mind, ever quick to analyze, immediately recognized the telltale signs of a bloodstain that had been hastily, if not entirely successfully, concealed. The discovery sent a small thrill through him.

"You enjoy the drink, too, don't lie. I saw you down there drinking it with Odasaku," Dazai said, his voice carrying a hint of familiarity he hadn't intended.

You gave Dazai a puzzled look, your brow furrowing slightly as you processed his words. He realized his slip immediately, watching as a flicker of confusion passed across your features. The usually composed demeanor he wore like armor had cracked, revealing an experience he hadn't been granted in this life.

"My apologies," he quickly corrected himself, his voice regaining its usual smooth rhythm. The words flowed like silk, masking his momentary lapse. "I had only heard you call him that a few times before you left. You always spoke fondly of the man who defected."

He observed intently as you silently began to question yourself, your hand reaching back to scratch your head in recollection of more than four years ago. The gesture was subtle, but to Dazai's keen eye, it spoke volumes about your inner turmoil. However, much to his relief, you quickly moved past the topic without dwelling on it further.

You set your drink down upon the polished surface of your desk, the crystal making a soft 'clink' against the wood. Clearing your throat, a confident smirk coated your peach-stained lips, the color a striking contrast against your skin in the warm light of the office.

"Besides the topic of my apparently new inventory," you said, emphasizing the word with a hint of playful accusation, "did you want to continue your losing game?"

Dazai chuckled, the sound low and rich. He leaned forward, the leather of the chair creaking slightly under his shifting weight. "I think you've forgotten, but I was winning."

A light laugh escaped you, the sound filling the room with a momentary lightness. "I had your queen for the taking. Without it, what even is the game?"

Dazai hummed thoughtfully, his mind racing through possibilities far beyond the chessboard. In his mind's eye, he saw not just chess pieces, but the intricate dance of allegiances and betrayals that defined their world. Indeed, his queen was cornered - both in the game and in life - but Dazai was nothing if not a master strategist. Just as you had been hasty to claim victory, he knew exactly how to turn the tides. His plan wasn't just to save a piece on a board, but to reclaim the Queen before him that he had lost to Fyodor's trickery.

His lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile. This game was far from over, and Dazai intended to win back what was rightfully his, piece by carefully manipulated piece. The anticipation built within him, not just for his next move in chess, but for the grand strategy that would bring you back to his side, away from Fyodor's influence.

Dazai's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Ah, but you've overlooked something crucial," he said, his voice smooth and confident. “It's my turn, remember? And with just one move, I'll not only save my queen but put you in a rather precarious position."

He set his glass down and leaned forward, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the desk as if recreating the chessboard. "My knight to F6. It simultaneously blocks your attack on my queen and threatens your bishop. Now, you're faced with a dilemma – do you capture my knight and leave your bishop vulnerable, or do you retreat and lose your advantage?"

A sly smile played on his lips as he continued, "In chess, as in life, it's not just about the pieces you have, but how you use them. Sometimes, a seeming disadvantage can be turned into a powerful opportunity with the right strategy."

His eyes met yours, the intensity in them suggesting he might be talking about more than just the game. "So, shall we continue? I'm quite curious to see how you'll respond to this... unexpected development."

You leaned back in your chair, a mixture of amusement and respect flickering across your features. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head slightly, your eyes meeting Dazai's intense gaze.

"Well played, Dazai," you conceded, your voice carrying a note of admiration. "I should have known better than to underestimate you. Your knight to F6 is indeed a clever move."

You paused, your fingers drumming thoughtfully on the armrest as you visualized the board in your mind. After a moment, a sly smile crept onto your face. "However, you're not the only one with tricks up their sleeve. I'll move my rook to E4. It puts pressure on your knight and maintains the threat to your queen. Plus, it opens up a potential attack on your king's flank."

Leaning forward, you picked up your glass, and place it against your plump bottom lip. "In chess, as in our line of work, it's all about adapting to the unexpected, isn't it? One must always be prepared to shift strategies at a moment's notice."

You took a sip of the whiskey, savoring its rich flavor before continuing, "So, Dazai, what’s your move?"

Dazai's eyes narrowed slightly, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he considered your move. "Interesting," he murmured, taking a thoughtful sip. “In that case, I'll move my bishop to D3, threatening your rook while maintaining defense of my queen.”

The game continued, each of you calling out moves, the imaginary board shifting in your minds with every declaration. The office fell into a rhythm of quiet contemplation broken by decisive statements, the clink of ice in glasses punctuating each turn.

"Knight to C6," you said, your voice steady.

"Pawn to A4," Dazai responded smoothly.

As the imaginary pieces dwindled, the tension in the room grew. Finally, after what felt like hours compressed into minutes, you both fell silent, a mutual realization dawning.

"Well," you said, a mix of frustration and admiration in your voice, "it seems we've reached an impasse."

Dazai nodded, his expression mirroring yours. "Indeed. By my count, we each have a king, a rook, and two pawns left. Neither of us can make a legal move without putting our king in check."

"Stalemate," you both said in unison, then shared a quiet laugh at the synchronicity. As your laughter died down, Dazai couldn’t help but admire you. While it seemed much had changed about you within the last four or so years, you were still sharp, quick on your feet, and though your encounter before last with one another within the confines of his penthouse was heated, it was as though it never happened.

Dazai raised his glass in a toast. "To a game well played. It's not often I encounter an opponent who can match me move for move. I’ve missed doing this with you."

You clinked your glass against his. "Likewise, Dazai. This was fun."

Dazai's intense gaze bore into your violet eyes, searching once again for a shred of the girl that once loved him. He knew you had to still harbor something, given your willingness to allow him into your office just one night after reconnecting, although you had resisted at first. A heavy sigh escaped your lips amid the charged silence, your eyes darting down to his lips. He mirrored the action, his tongue unconsciously brushing across his top lip.

In the days of your shared youth, the victor of these mental chess matches would be granted one request, no limits ever set. Trust and honesty were once pivotal, sacred even. But after touching The Book, everything changed.

Dazai watched intently as you shifted in your plush leather chair, leaning forward to examine the documents he had laid before you earlier. Your slender fingers opened the tan folder, eyes scanning its contents. Nervous anticipation built within him as he awaited your reaction.

A scoff broke the silence. It was somewhat expected.

"You want to buy The Midnight's Caress?" You looked up, an exaggerated eye roll accompanying your words.

"You're already paying us to leave you and your business be. I thought it would make more sense to annex your club since you already serve many mafiosos," Dazai explained, his voice smooth and persuasive.

Your eyes returned to the proposition. Dazai had been uncharacteristically considerate; you would remain owner, permitted to run the club as you saw fit, retaining eighty percent ownership.

"Ninety," you countered, your gaze drifting up from the paper. With practiced ease, you opened a drawer within your ornate desk, fingers grasping for a sleek box of cigarettes. The soft scrape of the box opening filled the quiet room as you extracted a single cigarette. The flick of your lighter cast a brief, warm glow across your features as you lit it. You inhaled deeply, the ember glowing bright orange in the dim office. Exhaling a plume of smoke, you placed the cigarette delicately between your index and middle fingers before uttering your next argument. "Giving you twenty percent would be grossly over what I already give you, which I've already been quite generous with."

Dazai raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. Given the club's popularity and the financial records he'd meticulously reviewed, he'd calculated that twenty percent ownership would be a small sacrifice. Yet, he'd anticipated some resistance from you.

You held the box out to him, one cigarette poking out invitingly. He leaned forward, long fingers grasping the rolled tobacco. Rising smoothly, he placed the cigarette between his lips. Leaning over your desk, he pressed his unlit cigarette to yours. His eyes, intense and searching, locked with yours as he contemplated his counter.

"Giving twenty percent would include more than just protection, Bella," Dazai remarked, his voice low and smooth as he relaxed back into the chair.

You laced your fingers together, resting your elbows on the polished desk. Your eyes fluttered, the lit cigarette dangling slightly between your lips. "How much are you assuming I'm already giving for this protection?"

“I calculated that it was around twenty percent now.”

A laugh escaped your occupied lips, followed by a click of your tongue. "Twenty? Oh, moye temnoye zhelaniye, I give you way less than that."

Dazai jerked his head back in surprise, questions flooding his mind. How much did you actually give of your earnings? The only logical explanation was the records he had did not contain unreported earnings. Additionally, when did you learn to speak Russian? He had no idea what the phrase meant, but curiosity burned within him.

He watched, transfixed, as you rose from your seat with fluid grace. The soft rustle of your clothing seemed amplified in the hushed office; his senses hyper-aware of your every movement. He tracked your progress as you rounded the desk, his heart rate quickening with each step you took towards him.

When you perched upon the edge of the desk directly in front of him, Dazai felt a rush of heat betray him, crawling up his cheeks in a flush he couldn't quite control. He found himself looking up at you through his eyelashes, acutely aware of the power dynamic shift. The dim light of the office played across your features, casting shadows that accentuated the curves and angles of your face. Dazai's breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of you, commanding and alluring in equal measure.

He watched, mesmerized, as you took another leisurely puff from your cigarette. The ember glowed bright for a moment, illuminating your face in a warm, fleeting light that seared itself into his memory. With practiced ease, you blew the smoke out above you, creating a swirling haze that danced in the air between you. The sharp scent of tobacco mingled with your personal fragrance, an intoxicating mixture that seemed to cloud his senses.

As Dazai gazed up at you, he found himself making a silent vow. He would let you have anything you wanted - any percentage, any terms. All that mattered was that you allowed him to remain in your presence, to bask in the captivating aura you exuded.

"I give ten percent of my yearly earnings to you now, Dazai. You're basically asking I near triple that in my eyes, as it's not only money; it's ownership." Your voice carried a hint of steel beneath its smoothness, a reminder of the strength that had always drawn Dazai to you.

Dazai stood to meet your gaze, his movement fluid and deliberate. Your eyes darted from his visible eye down to his lips again as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Seventeen then.” The words hung in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension.

"You're good at a lot of things, Osamu, negotiating is apparently not one of them." You leaned further in, your breath warm against his skin.

He took a moment, relishing the closeness that you'd allowed once again. However, his keen eye caught sight of a cut upon your bottom lip and faint evidence of a bruise upon your cheekbone, which you had evidently tried to cover, which wasn't there the night before. He saw your eyes widen slightly, likely realizing he'd noticed the wounds marring your features. Before he could question you, you spoke again.

"I own the entire property as of right now. I even live upstairs." You took the cigarette from your mouth, gesturing with your fingers toward the area outside the office. Osamu recalled the elevator he'd noticed across from your office doors. That explained its presence. "You might as well buy the whole building, since it seems you're trying to buy me back into the mafia."

Osamu passively heard you, however, he couldn’t bring himself to reply to you just yet. His mind wouldn’t move past the subtle signs of abuse on your face. The cut on your lip, the faint bruise on your cheekbone - they weren't there last night. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, a mixture of worry and rage threatening to overwhelm him.

He reached out instinctively, his hand hovering near your face but not quite touching. He remembered how you used to flinch in worry of touching others, but you remained still, even slightly leaning toward his touch.

Finally, his voice whispered your name out, softer than he intended, "This isn't about buying you back into anything. Do you really think I'd try to manipulate you into a life you chose to leave?"

He watched your eyes, those stormy violet orbs that had once looked at him with such trust and affection. Now they seemed guarded, wary. It pained him more than he cared to admit.

"I respect your decisions," he continued, "even if I don't always agree with them. But those marks on your face, cara mia… they weren't there last night."

Osamu felt his hand clench at his side, anger surging through him at the thought of Fyodor laying a hand on you. He fought to keep his voice steady. "This isn't about ownership or percentages. It's about keeping you safe from a man who clearly doesn't value you the way he should. The way you deserve."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within him. He needed you to understand, to see beyond the business proposition to the genuine concern that drove his actions. Fyodor, in this life and every other, was not a man to be trusted, let alone be married to.

"I won’t ask you again to come back to the mafia. All I'm asking, is for you to let me protect you. Because right now, your independence is coming at a cost that's far too high."

Osamu’s unbandaged eye searched yours, silently pleading. He saw a flicker of something - vulnerability, perhaps - behind your carefully constructed walls. It gave him hope.

"Let me help you," he said softly. "Please."

In that moment, looking into your eyes, Osamu realized just how much he still cared for you; it was overwhelming. The thought of you in pain, of Fyodor hurting you, was unbearable. He knew he'd do whatever it took to keep you safe, even if it meant putting himself, his plans, in danger. Because despite everything that had happened, you were still one of the most important people in his world.

Osamu watched as your eyes widened slightly at his words, a mix of emotions flickering across your face. For a moment, your carefully constructed facade seemed to waver, revealing a glimpse of the vulnerability he once knew so well.

His breath caught as you reached up, your fingers gently brushing against his hand that hovered near your face. The touch was electric, sending a shiver through him. Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper when you spoke.

"Osamu... it's not that simple."

He held his breath, hoping for more, but you seemed to steel yourself before continuing. "I appreciate your concern, truly. But my life, my choices... they're complicated. More than you know."

Osamu felt a pang in his chest as you slid off the desk, putting a small distance between you. The internal struggle playing out in your eyes was painfully clear to him.

"Ten percent, if you buy the entire building," you said suddenly, your voice regaining its businesslike tone. "That's my final offer. And I maintain full operational control."

The abrupt shift back to business threw him for a moment, but he quickly recovered. He recognized your deflection for what it was - a shield, a way to avoid the deeper conversation you both knew you needed to have.

"Agreed," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "But this conversation isn't over. I won't stand by and watch you get hurt, no matter how complicated things are."

You nodded, a small, sad smile playing on your lips. "I know you won't. That's what makes you... you."

As you moved to return to your seat, Osamu caught the briefest flash of something in your eyes. Was it longing? Regret? Or perhaps something more calculating? He couldn't be sure, and it frustrated him. There was a time when he could read you like an open book, but now... now parts of you were a mystery to him.

Watching you settle back into your chair, Osamu began to feel a sharp pang of guilt. He knew he was being selfish, pursuing you when his time in this world was limited. The weight of his secrets - the truth about the Book and his inevitable fate - pressed heavily upon him. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to tell you, it would cost too much. Instead, he made a silent vow to protect you from Fyodor and his plans, and, if possible, win back your trust and affection, even if it was only for a brief moment in time.

As he gazed at you across the desk, Osamu felt a familiar warmth in his chest, accompanied by a sharp ache. Despite everything, despite the years and the pain and the complications, you were still one of the most important people in his world. And he would do whatever it took to keep you safe, even if it meant putting himself, his plans, in danger.

"With that matter settled," you said, a smile reappearing on your face as you extinguished your cigarette. "Would you like to try another game of chess? I'd understand if you say no, as assuredly going to win this time."

A rich laugh escaped through Osamu’s lips. "I'd like to see you try," he responded, his eyes gleaming with challenge and amusement.

The game was on, and Osamu intended to win.

previous part ~ next part | LBH masterlist | BSD Masterverse

Author Chat: This part took a lot out of me. Again, I had intended it to be much darker, as I see so many write Fyodor as this sweet, quiet man who's tenderly loving his s/o, but I was like "but what if...?" So, that's partly where the inspiration came from, because let's be honest, that man is dark and twisted (you know the looks like a cinnamon roll, will actually kill you).

If you liked, feel free to like and reblog <3 ~DamzelZelda

Song Inspos: Rule #34- Fish in a Birdcage Watch- billie eilish

Russian Word "Dictionary" (Curtesy of [unreliable] Google translate):

moya lyubov': "my love"

moya zhena: "my wife"

moy dorogoy: "my dear"

malen'kaya mysh': "little mouse"

lyubyashchaya: "loving"

budto: "as if"

chudesnyy: "marvelous"

ty lisitsa: "you vixen"

Takaya khoroshaya devochka: "such a good girl"

Ochen' khorosho: "very well"

moy angel smerti: "my angel of death"

moye temnoye zhelaniye: "my dark desire"

#bsd #bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dazai x y/n #bsd dazai #beast dazai x reader #fydor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor smut #bsd smut

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broadwaydivastournament · 7 months ago

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BROADWAY DIVAS SUPERLATIVES: Wait...WHAT???

Elaine Stritch's first orgasm during "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?": Crazy cantankerous Elaine Stritch was never one to mince words. Perhaps a crowning achievement in her many instances of raw candor, Elaine revealed the story behind her first-ever orgasm in an interview with "30 Rock" co-star Alec Baldwin in 2013. Elaine starred in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? on Broadway and during the national tour, 1963 and 1965, respectively. She would have been in her late thirties.

"But I wanted to tell something intimate about myself to John [Turturro] about when he was interviewing me. I told him that when I was doing Virginia Woolf and when George and Martha had their scene together and George said, 'Our son is dead.' You know, that big scene? 'Our son,' he yells in my face, 'is dead.' And I went 'No!' At the height of my force, I said no to him. And I had an orgasm for the first time in my life... So this is how important that moment was on stage to me. This is unbelievable, you don't know." -source

Gertrude Lawrence (almost) drops dead during "The King and I": On August 16th, 1952, one of the great stage divas of this world--and rumored lesbian--Gertrude Lawrence collapsed backstage after a Saturday matinee of The King and I. She was admitted to a hospital shortly thereafter, and by early September, the Tony-winning star was declared dead. She was buried in the iconic champagne "Shall We Dance?" gown, and became the first person for whom Broadway dimmed the marquee lights for. She was 54. And so began the long-standing King and I curse (I say tongue-in-cheek) where every subsequent Anna Leonowens has had some terrible tragedy befall them. -source

Julie Andrews declines her Tony nomination for "Victor/Victoria": We live in a cruel and unforgivable world where Julie Andrews does not have a Tony Award. The closest she came was in 1996 where she was nominated for Victor/Victoria. As the sole nomination for the show, Julie announced that she would withdraw her name for consideration in protest on behalf of her egregiously overlooked costars and creative team. She was thought to be a locked win at the time, and though her name did remain officially on the voting ballot, the award ultimately went to Donna Murphy for The King and I, making an awkward situation for everyone involved. -source

youtube

Marin Mazzie's "pussy on fire" incident during "Passion": Well, I'll let her tell you all about it.

youtube

Patti LuPone and the ALW Memorial Pool: Patti LuPone and the infamous lawsuit that cost ALW a million dollars for breaking her Sunset Boulevard contract. Patti had an iron-clad contract that stated she would be transferring with the production to Broadway, but news broke that she would be replaced by Glenn Close. Patti, who was at the theatre when she found out, went absolutely batshit and trashed her entire dressing room. Her feud persists to this day with several ups and downs, as is her right as a Diva-with-a-capital-D.

More Polls

Honorable mentions:

Stephen Sondheim sex dungeon

Bob Fosse's womanizing and finally him collapsing in separated wife Gwen Verdon's arms and dying shortly after.

The affairs of Broadway

Anti-vaxxer Laura Osnes tanking her promising Broadway career and now performing as a circus singer.

#broadwaydivastournament #broadway divas #musical theatre #broadway divas superlatives #elaine stritch #gertrude lawrence #julie andrews #marin mazzie #patti lupone

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thelonelyshore-if · 7 days ago

Note

What's the wildest thing Beck and Perri have ever done together that they absolutely regretted in the moment but now look back on and laugh?

I have been thinking about their friendship so much in the past few days, so I am dying for Beck/Perri besties content. Honestly, any fun facts about them will do. I need it.

Also, Beck/Perri poly being dead last in the poll is a C R I M E. They have the best dynamic and I can't wait to slot myself into it like the missing piece they never knew they needed.

Oh I totally agree. I love their polyship soooo much; and their friendship. I'm so excited to dig into their friendship and tear it open with my bare hands. Slotting MC into it will be truly a delight. Beck's skittishness and fear of commitment combined with Perri's tendency towards being clingy and their being a hopeless romantic are just...

*chef's kiss*

Throwing MC into the middle of that is going to be so much fun.

As for your first question, my answer got a little long so you can find it beneath the cut <3

When they were younger--around 19--Perri became obsessed with the creature they believe lives in the lake. Beck got it in his head that the two of them could go out and find the thing.

The problem? It was the middle of winter. But, never fear! Just because it's winter doesn't mean you can't access the lake. Easthaven has a huge fishing culture, and ice fishing is big. So, no problem--they'd sneak into an icehouse, chop the hole open a little farther, and try to get some pictures or something.

Breaking and entering wasn't hard at all. They just picked the biggest one owned by somebody they were convinced wouldn't kick their ass if they got caught. Beck brought a hatchet, Perri brought a camera wrapped in plastic set on a timer and tied together with a rope.

What could go wrong?

It turns out that safely cracking the ice with a hatchet isn't as easy as Beck thought. He went at it a little too hard. The fishing hole opened more, for sure. Wide enough for him to fall in.

Perri lost their camera. Beck did an impromptu polar plunge. They're lucky that Beck didn't drown; even luckier that the ice stopped cracking before the entire icehouse fell in. Luckiest of all, some of the fisherfolk had started arriving, and they were able to help get Beck back on the ice and rushed to the hospital before hypothermia set in.

Scary as hell in the moment. Beck has almost died plenty of times, but that ice-shock of cold still sticks with them. Perri was a wreck.

Now, though? They can't see the lake, covered in fishhouses, without bursting into laughter.

#asks #perri #beck #b&p poly #there's also the time they found and climbed perri's tower #but that'll be discussed in game ;)

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nani-nonny · 8 months ago

Note

Ask game, ask game, ASK GAME :3

💖 What made you start writing?

�� Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

💖 aksjakasjaj goodness start writing? um… i found out people were writing original stories on Flipnote Hatena back in 2010 and reading their stories made me realize I could write my own stories and don’t have to daydream about scenarios or only stick to reading books. It wasn’t until 2012…? I think…? —that I found out about fanfiction and wrote my own that are very much deleted from existence

🎢 oh geez hmm i think DMD is the wildest because that was the first fic where people were actually noticing my writing, and it was the first fic that I actually planned out and plotted a full storyline rather than oneshots/shorts that I made up along the way. And it introduced me to FM Radio, and got me into the Peepaw polls last year!

😈 lol can I just pick every heart wrenching moment between f!leo and present!leo? Especially LCD’s Leo & Leo moments! Basically all of LCD? I wrote it to spite DMD F!Leo’s & P!Leo’s soft father & son/role model relationship hehe

Emoji ask game

#fanfic writer ask game #nani nonny answers

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epiphanylore · 3 months ago

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Masterlist

a/n: this is a work in progress of my masterlist for all my content, but mainly consisting of polls. will be updating frequently :)

✅ - completed

✍️ - currently open (ex. active polls)

strike through - eliminated

OUTFIT BATTLES💫

#1: OG & G - Pink & Blue lover bodysuit VS. Gold & Blue lover bodysuit ✅

#2: Princess & The Pauper - Purple lover bodysuit VS. Pink lover bodysuit ✅

#3: Tangerine Man- Tangerine Lover Bodysuit VS. Silver “The Man” jacket ✅

#4: B&B (Black & Blue) - Black “The Man” jacket VS. Blue/Purple “The Man” jacket ✅

#5: Staring at the sunset - Pink “Barbie” “The Man” jacket VS. Tangerine “The Man” jacket ✅

#6: Gold Rush - Short Gold Fearless Dress (OG) VS. Long Gold Noodle Fearless Dress ✅

#7: Silver Scene - Long Silver Noodle Fearless Dress VS. Black & Silver Fearless Dress ✅

#8: Last and First - Tiger Stripe Fearless Dress VS. “A Lot Going On At The Moment” Red Shirt✅

#9: Like Ever? Ew, No. - “Who’s Taylor Swift Anyway? Ew.” Red Shirt VS. “We Are Never Getting Back Together. Like Ever.” Red Shirt✅

#10: I Bet You Think About Taylor’s Version - “This Is Not Taylor’s Version” Red Shirt VS. “I Bet You Think About Me” Red Shirt✅

#11: rep vs. rep - (OG) red snakes reputation bodysuit VS. NEW gold cobra reputation bodysuit✅

#12: Troublesome - “I Knew U Were Trouble” 22 shirt VS. “All Too Well 10 min. Version” jacket✅

“WILDEST” SKIPS⏩️

Debut - #11💚✅

Fearless - #9💛✅

Speak Now - #3💜✅

Red - #6❤️✅

1989 - #5🩵✅

reputation - #10🖤✅

Lover - #8💘✅

folklore - #1🩶✅

evermore - #4🤎 ✅

Midnights - #7💙✅

TRACK RANKINGS🔢

Track 1️⃣✅

Track 2️⃣✅

Track 3️⃣✅

Track 4️⃣✅

Track 5️⃣✅

Track 6️⃣✅

Track 7️⃣✅

Track 8️⃣✅

ERAS TOUR RECAPS 🔃(last leg)

Miami N1 (10/18)🎤

Miami N2 (10/19)🎤

Miami N3 (10/20)🎤

NOLA N1 (10/25)🎭

NOLA N2 (10/26)🎭

NOLA N3 (10/27)🎭

INDIANAPOLIS N1 (11/1)🏎️

FAVOURITE ERAS TOUR OUTFITS🧥

Lover bodysuits✅

The Man (Lover) jackets (+ update)✅

(In her best dress), Fearless✅

Holi-tays 🎄

Was Taylor in your top spotify artists? (2024)✅

Were any Taylor albums in your top 5? (2024)✅

Which album gives off the most holiday vibes? (2024)✍️

SO LONG, THE ERAS TOUR🪩🥲

What is your favourite eras tour moment? ✅

Favourite outfit from each era?✅

Pick from my LEAST favourite Eras Tour outfits✅

Favourite of my (glitchy livestream) surprise songs? ✅

Pick from my… (music)🎶

Pick from my daylist pt. 1✅

Pick from my daylist pt. 2✅

Pick from my daylist pt. 3✅

Pick from my fav vault tracks✍️

Pick from my least favourite taylor tracks✍️

Pick from my Current Taylor faves✍️

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tkwrites · 11 months ago

Note

Oh I wanted to ask them all! Here is a shortened emoji request 😂

🥺🤡🎢✨️⛔️🦅👀

Hope you are doing well! I've moved back to the city for uni starting up soon and have been all in my feels. Reading Sarah and Quinn has actually really helped me just relax and run away from reality atm xxx

First of all, thank you so much for the compliment, and I'm so honored my writing can be a little escape and safe haven. 💜💜

This answer is so long, so I've put a cut in so it's not taking up a huge chunk of your feed.

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Bre asked this same question, and the answer is here.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

From Our Heroes Meet:

After holding eye contact for a beat too long, she tore her eyes away to look at the menu again. “Do you mind if I do something a little weird?” she asked.

When she dared to meet his eyes again, he was looking at her like he was bracing for something that was going to ruin his whole reputation.

“I mean with ordering,” she said, laughing.

“Oh,” Quinn felt his whole body relax, “sure.”

“Were you worried I was going to ask for pictures of your feet or something?”

Laughter burst out of his mouth, splitting his face into a natural, easy smile that suited him. The childish scrunch to his nose coupled with the wide, sure-of-himself smile made him look somehow younger and older at the same time.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit.”

Also, from Back to You:

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.”

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.”

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Oh, Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies for sure. There's so much I'd like to go back and change in that fic, but it's certainly a wild ride!

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

I've always felt dialog is one of my strongest suits, and most of my fics start out as just full dialog. Lately, I've been working on my prose and I'm feeling pretty proud of it.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

Ha! So many.

The one that comes to mind is a meet cute with Teuvo Teräväinen. They meet and it is cute, but I can't make it go anywhere beyond that. I come back to it every once in a while, but I haven't been able to push the story past the parking lot.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

A bit of both. I usually have a rough outline in my head. If I'm really struggling, I'll write out, not an outline per say but, a list of things that need to happen in order for the story to move forward.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I gave a snippet of Meet the Parents on Bre's ask, so that one is coming. And I have the two others I talked about in my poll. Other than that, there's a lot of summer content coming, including some awkward, desperate car sex and a black bikini that Quinn can't quite wrap his head around.

#ask game #quinn & sarah snapshots #tkanswers 📮

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lovesongbracket · 2 years ago

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PRELIMINARY ROUND B - Match 15

This is a nomination round. The top songs across ALL preliminary round polls will become our 64 competitors in Round 1.

Note: It’s about the song, not the recording. The artists/specific tracks provided are either the original, most popular, or suggested by a submitter. If you prefer a different version, a cover of the song, you like the song but not the artist etc, don’t let that deter you.

Youtube videos of all songs & submitter notes are under the cut.

80's Films - Jon Bellion

youtube

Daisy Bell (Bicycle Built for Two) - Nat King Cole

youtube

Girls In Love - PhemieC

Ok look im probably the only person who heard this song enough times to warrent a submission but its my fav!

youtube

God Only Knows - The Beach Boys

youtube

It Only Takes a Moment - from Hello, Dolly!

youtube

Mirrors - Justin Timberlake

youtube

Same Old Lang Syne - Dan Fogelberg

youtube

She Will Be Loved - Maroon 5

youtube

That I Miss You - Vansire

I think its good!!!

youtube

Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

say you'll remember me standing in a nice dress staring at the sunset babe.......red lips and rosy cheeks say you'll see me again even if its just in your wildest dreams..........

youtube

#polls #poll tournament #poll bracket #tournament #bracket #lovesongbracket #preliminaryb

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acethedria · 2 years ago

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Every single Elden Ring pun in SSS intros

Stream 1

What if Elden already rang? - Jacob

Stream 2

If you like it then you should've put an Elden Ring on it. - Julia

Elden Ring Fit - Julia/Jacob

Stream 3

If you Elden then you should've put a ring on it. - Jacob

If you're an Eldenly person, then you should get a Life Alert. - Julia

Do you know what my favorite Disney movie is? Eledin and the Prince of Thieves. - Julia

Where do underground luchadors fight? In the el Den Ring. - Julia

What does Elden Ring have in common with going to the polls? You gotta save Marika. - Julia

Stream 4

Y'know the other day, I got this new sweater, and I brought it home and put it on, and the dang thing started falling apart. I called 'em up, the clothing store. Turns out, it was made of elden string. - Jacob

Gen Zs these days only know about the elden ring, 'cause they're always on their phones. - Julia

Well, what ever happened to books. Where are you gonna learn about those Elven rings. - Julia

Stream 5

So, when I was a kid, we had a fort in our backyard, like a play fort, and I would always go up there. But in the fall, a bunch of leaves would fall into it, and I decided that I needed to clean out the fort of all the leaves. And so, I was going in there, I was reaching in, I was pulling out all the leaf piles, but I reached into one, and I felt a pain in my hand. And when I lifted it up, I had put my hand directly on a yellowjacket, and at the time it really hurt, and I was really upset about it, but now looking back, it doesn't seem so bad, because it was more of an elden sting. - Jacob

I'm really excited that we get to see the prawn man again, because he we all loved him because he was so tall and handsome as hell, so I'm glad we get to see him, even if its just in our Elden Streams, ahah, ahhahhh (to the tune of Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams). - Julia

Stream 6

So, y'all, the other night, me and the ol' battleaxe here were out at the old Italian restaurant. And as I do always, I love a traditional Italian dish, I ordered the SpaghettiOs, the traditional Italian dish. Let me tell you, when they came out, the SpaghettiOs were way overcooked. They were mushy, the SpaghettiOs. So I called over, I said "Bring me the chef", I was snappin', and the chef came out, and I said "Excuse me, I ordered El Dente Rings." - Jacob

Stream 7

The problem with kids these days is that they don't spend enough time in the Elden Ring, they're too busy spending their all their time in The Circle, but what about that Ring? - Julia

Stream 9

Yammers, listen. You all know one of my favorite television shows is The Big Bang Theory. I think all the characters are great, but my favorite character? Sheldon Ring. - Jacob

Stream 10

Y'know when you're hangin' out with friends. It's time for one of your friends to pick a movie. They pick a movie and its a scary one. Sometimes its funny, unintentionally. But, y'know, you don't want your parents to see the scary movie that you're watching. So you go down into the little private room, and you pop that movie. Suddenly, that little room becomes the El Den Ringu. - Julia

Y'know when you're hangin' out with your friends and your brother brings home a friend who's like, really good at the drums, and those drums are down in the little private room. You don't wanna disturb the rest of the house. And then, that guy turns out to be pretty good at the drums but not phenomenal. That's an Elden Ringo Starr. - Julia

Y'know when you're hangin' out with friends and its the 90s and you go into your little private room and the phone rings, but you've got a phone in this little private room, so the noise that the phone makes becomes an El Den Ring.

Stream 11

Y'know when you're looking to have a moment, like a moment between you and someone else, just the two of you, 'cause you really want to ask a very big important question but you don't wanna do it publicly. Finally, you find this small, private room that's a little set into the ground level, and then you get to ask the question. Then you get to show off your El Den Ring. - Julia

Y'know when you order food and the delivery guy calls, and that's when your Din Ring. - Julia

Stream 12

Y'know what song from the 90s I don't miss? I don't remember what it's called, but it goes "Elden ring ding ding daa baa" (to the tune of Crazy Frog). - Julia

#secret sleepover society

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princessfbi · 1 year ago

Note

8, 16, 26, 27 for the get to know ask if you'd like 💖

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

Answered here!

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Well, I just finished one fic and hope to post it in the next day or so. But I've got about six ideas occupying my brain at the moment. One of them was the winner of the poll which was Buck the mind reader. It's exactly as it sounds but there's a twist. 😉

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Probably.... 00Q!Buddie AU or What's Up Danger? just because they both started out with little nugget ideas in my head and became this huge thing that everyone seemed to really enjoy!

27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

Answered here!

Send Me Writing Asks Please

#writing talk #royal decree #ask game #alyxmastershipper

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chocoluckchipz · 5 years ago

Text

Dance with Me, Chaton - 30

Read it on A03, WattPad, FF.net

Written for @ladynoirjuly2019

< Previous

30. Inspiration

Marinette’s birthday marked exactly ten months, two weeks, and three days since Adrien had learned about the mysterious Ladybug and embarked on a journey to find her in exchange for a feeble promise of freedom from his father. What should’ve been an interesting, few-weeks-long experience at its most turned out to be a wild, life-changing ride by no means easy for everyone involved. Still, as Adrien escorted Marinette out to dinner on her birthday, he found himself unable to regret a single thing, no matter how much it cost him. His gains outweighed it all.

The restaurant Adrien had chosen was unusually private for Paris’ dining scene and one of the most serene spaces he’d ever visited. Soft music floating through the candlelit space weaved itself in between the quiet chatter of other couples in the room. The food was delicious and the staff, friendly. The whole atmosphere was enthralling, making this evening an unforgettable one as the pair chatted, laughed, and indulged in a wide variety of delicatessen, enjoying each other’s company more than anything else. For Adrien, however, the best part of the evening was the birthday girl. With her hair down, an elegant red dress, and stylish accessories, including the ruby earrings he gifted her with this morning, Marinette was the epitome of beauty, her smiles alone outshining everything else in his universe, her constant teases ensuring he remained acutely aware of his feelings for her the whole evening.

“Don’t tell Papa, but this chocolate mousse is the best thing I’ve ever tried in my life,” Marinette said, finishing her dessert. “We must come back. I need to try everything else they have on their menu. Maybe pick up a few things for us to savour at home.”

“As you wish, my Lady,” Adrien said, watching Marinette lick her spoon clean. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d be madly in love with a woman who could out-eat him any time of the day and still remain in perfect physical shape. Then again, that could be easily explained by all that training she’d been doing with Tikki. And as far as Adrien was concerned, Tikki could easily give Plagg a run for his money in the intensity of her workouts. He shivered even at the memory. Her training wasn’t exactly more physically demanding than Plagg’s. Not at all. However, it relied on exceptional speed and agility, something that Adrien had suspected his male body wasn’t built for. The few times he’d trained with Tikki, he’d thanked every deity alive he’d been assigned to Plagg because unaccustomed to such extremely quick movement transitions, he huffed and puffed and miserably fell behind all session long, leaving Marinette a giggling mess as she watched him suffer. His forgiveness, though, was easily earned by a few kisses right after the session.

“By the way, Alya demanded to make sure you knew this place was her suggestion,” Adrien added once the waiter left with their empty plates.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I should’ve guessed. She did write that article on Paris’ hidden gems a few weeks back. Though, I don’t remember this one on the list.”

“Somebody suggested it in the comments section under her article,” Adrien explained. “She checked it out last week and said it was better than any of the places that made it on her list. So much better, in fact, that she’ll be writing a new article in a few days… after we had a chance to enjoy the calmer version of what soon to be a highly sought-after place. Her words. Not mine.”

Marinette chuckled. “I love Alya. I’d have to thank her somehow because—” She reached for his hand to hold in hers, “—a quiet evening alone with you was just what I wanted for my birthday. Thank you, Chaton. This was the perfect present.”

“No need to thank me yet,” Adrien replied, his lips already bestowing a lingering kiss onto her hand. “The evening is just starting.”

“Seeing as you’ve asked me to bring my Kwami Kave outfit, I’m guessing we’re heading there next?”

“You’re right as always, my Lady. Kwami Kave is next.”

Marinette lightly nibbled at her lip. “Was it bad of me to hope that on my birthday we could spend some time alone? Just the two of us, without constant interruptions of everyone else.”

Adrien chuckled. “We can do that if you don’t mind me being mugged around the corner by a mob of our angry friends tomorrow because apparently,” he playfully bemoaned. “Even Ladybug’s boyfriend isn’t allowed to have her all to himself on her birthday.”

Marinette cocked her head to the side. “But what if Ladybug herself wants to snuggle in front of the TV with her boyfriend instead of going out? I’m sure if they knew how warm and cuddly, not to mention skilled, my Kitty is, they’d understand.”

Ignoring the rising heat at Marinette’s allusive tone of voice, Adrien replied. “I’m sure we can leave as soon as Tikki and Plagg give you your surprise present because, seriously, I think I was threatened and forced to swear I’ll bring you over just for that.”

“Oh! What kind of surprise?”

“Don’t know. They wouldn’t let even me on it.” Adrien paused and looked at Marinette. “Do ‘Rena Rouge’ and ‘Carapace’ ring any bells for you?”

“No. Never heard of those. What or who are they?”

“Beats me. I overheard those along with ‘Ladybug’s birthday’ when I walked in on Masters Wayzz, Trixx, Plagg and Tikki a few days ago, but when I asked them about it, Master Wayzz told me that water isn’t hot enough to put the noodles in yet. Plagg had the audacity to comment that curiosity could be deadly for eavesdropping kittens, and Tikki bluntly kicked me out after that.”

Marinette laughed. “You know you’re adorable when you pout?”

“I’ve been told,” Adrien grinned. “And also, when I sleep, and when I blush, and—”

“Oh!” Marinette perked up. “Speaking of that and Luka. Have you noticed?”

Adrien grinned wider. “You mean how that new girl Ryuko reduces him to a blushing mess with her every word?”

“Yes!” Marinette squeaked. “I’m so excited! I’ve never seen Luka so flustered. He was actually lost for words last time she sassed him.”

Adrien chuckled. “I’m sorry; he’s a friend, but that was a delight to watch. Ever so cool and composed Viperion melting under the Dragon Girl sharp tongue and narrowing eyes.”

“I know!” Marinette beamed. “There is definitely something there. Can’t wait to see how it’ll go down.”

“Then, we’d better grab some popcorn on our way there,” Adrien said and called for the waiter.

Once the bill was paid and the pair walked into the street, Marinette asked, “Do you mind if we can take a little detour? Tikki asked me to grab something for her for tomorrow, and I don’t think I’d want to go anywhere after the club.”

“Sure. Where to?”

“Do you remember I told you about that apartment she bought for investment?”

Adrien let a smile slip onto his lips. “The one you said you’d love to live in yourself?”

“Yup. That one. She forgot some documents there last night and she needs them for tomorrow.”

Adrien opened his car’s door for Marinette. “Why didn’t she get them herself? She had all day.”

“She said she’d be busy,” Marinette smiled. “I assume with that surprise you say they’ve been preparing for me, so the least I can do is to stop by that place and get her those documents. She gave me the key. Here’s the address.” Marinette opened her clutch and pulled a piece of paper out. “It isn’t far from here. Shouldn’t take us long.”

Adrien opened the paper and read the address. “Love how she drew a little cloverleaf and a ladybug at the end. Is that wishing me good luck on finding the place?”

“No.” Marinette giggled. “Tikki just likes to doodle. That’s all.”

Adrien put the paper inside his jacket, only now remembering the envelope that lay there. “Oh, snap. I forgot to show you this.”

“What is it?”

“The latest poll combined with our stats on Lady Noir and a proposal.”

Marinette pursued her lips. “Talking business on our time off?”

“I promise you’ll like it,” Adrien guiltily smiled.

Marinette took the envelope, letting him close the door and get to the driver’s seat. Once inside, he glanced her way. “So? What do you think?”

“I won’t lie,” Marinette responded. “I love the idea of a physical store, but we’ve opened our online one just a little over six months ago. Isn’t it a little too soon?”

“Not according to those numbers and your clienteles demand.” Adrien nodded to the paper in Marinette’s hands. “I told you you’ll be a smashing success. Here are your first results: your ever-growing crowd of customers demand a physical boutique.”

Adrien let Marinette a few moments to think as he drove off into the street before adding, “I also might have already found the perfect location for it too.”

Marinette closed her eyes and chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know how much I’m excited for you to take the fashion industry by storm. And when you do, I’ll be proud to stand by your side.” He gave her a quick smile, before averting his eyes back to the road. His hand, though, remained in hers, nestled in her lap, for a few more moments.

“Downtown location,” he added. “An exquisite, historic building in a busy, prestigious shopping alley. Lots of tourists, a couple of established fashion boutiques on either side and a few Metro stations a walking distance away. Perfect for your first boutique to go viral.”

Marinette watched him for a moment. “You serious?”

Adrien nodded, his eyes focused on the road as he drove. “I already spoke with the leasing company. They’re awaiting our decision by the end of the week before releasing the listing to the public.”

Marinette bit her lip, focusing her sight on the road in front of her. She was tempted; Adrien could see it. Her own boutique was her dream ever since she could remember herself, and now it was a hair string away from becoming a reality.

“Okay, even if I wanted to do this,” Marinette said. “There is no way I can afford it. Depending on the rent fee, whatever’s left of that payout your father gave me would cover around six months at most in that area. It won’t work long term.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Adrien said. “I own half of the company, meaning I’ll be pitching in as well. We’ll have at least a year covered. By that time, Lady Noir will be long profiting, so the rent won't be an issue anymore.”

Marinette fell quiet. Adrien focused on the road, giving her time to think, one of the things he’d learned about his Lady. Marinette didn’t like to rush with life-altering decisions.

A few streets down, Marinette started biting on her nails. “Lady Noir is way more successful than I’d ever thought it would be.”

“Yup,” Adrien agreed. “I told you it wasn’t just something for me to play with until I’d figure out what I want to do with my life.”

“Well, excuse me,” Marinette chuckled. “What was I supposed to think when I fleetingly mention to you I was debating between starting my own fashion brand on that Gabriel pay-out money or taking up one of the jobs offers I had, and you immediately jump at the chance, making calls, crunching numbers and giving me at least three different ways to go about it the next day? My best bet was you were extremely bored and had nothing better to do than to play around in Let’s Start a Fashion Empire in your spare time.”

“Well I was bored, I can’t deny that,” Adrien responded. “No one goes from being busy 24/7 to doing nothing 24/7 and doesn’t feel bored. But no, no games. I just saw an opportunity and latched to it. You’re incredibly talented, Marinette, and I dare to say I know how to manage a business pretty well. Years of experience, university and all that.”

“You are really good at it. We’d never be at the level we’re now without you, no matter how genius of a designer you think me to be.”

“You are exceptional as a designer, but thank you for the compliment.” He took an opportunity at a red light to reach for her hand again and smile. “Don’t you see it, my Lady? I’ve been born into the fashion industry and know it inside out. You were born to take it by storm, and I’ll be proud to be by your side when you do that.”

She took a few more moments. “Do you really think we should go for it?”

Adrien nodded. “I know we should. Numbers don’t lie.”

“Alright.” She smiled. “I trust you.”

“I’ll schedule an appointment as soon as possible for you to see the location, and we’ll go from there,” Adrien said, pulling over. “Is this it?”

Marinette looked outside. “Yes. Want to go with me or wait for me here?”

“Do I look like I’m insane?” Adrien dramatically gasped. “Who in their right mind would let a goddess like you walk in that building alone? Someone would surely steal you away from me, and I’m afraid I won’t survive that.”

Marinette laughed. “I see Plagg has been rubbing off on you.”

“Maybe just a tiny bit.” Adrien winked.

He quickly got out in hopes to open the door for Marinette. Yet, when Adrien circled the car, Marinette was already standing on a sidewalk, staring at the building in front of them, her head tilted to the side.

“Isn’t just gorgeous?” she murmured under her breath.

Adrien cocked his head to the side. “I bet you love it for the dance studio on the ground floor and that huge red front door with flower pots around it alone. Your two favourite things in one place.”

Marinette smirked. “I mean you’re not wrong but wait, till you get inside. It has the coziest little courtyard I’ve ever seen, not to mention architecture is just fantastic.”

“Shall we go in then?”

“Absolutely.”

Putting in the entry code from the paper Tikki gave them, Adrien noticed Marinette running her fingers against the intricate door frame. She looked in awe at the small but beautiful courtyard, commenting on a few plant choices she’d never thought would look good together, immediately snapping a few pictures for inspiration.

“So gorgeous,” she whispered to herself as they’ve entered the foyer. “You know,” Marinette said louder to him. “Tikki wants to renovate it before renting it out.”

“Does she? Another chance to flaunt her mighty interior design skills?”

“Hey! She’s good. Just look at her clients, all those rich and famous folks who stand in a line to have her create spaces for them.”

“Isn’t it what I said?” Adrien chuckled. “She is good at her job. I know that. I saw her work. Her taste is unprecedented, comparing to the other designers I’ve seen. What about it, though? It’s not really surprising she’d want to do work on her own place.”

“Yes, but because it’s her place, she has free rein,” Marinette excitedly continued. “She doesn’t have to appease anyone but herself, so she’s very excited. I don’t even think I can remember the last time she was so pumped. I mean, she was just bursting at the seams in there, kept throwing ideas at me, proposing innovative solutions, showing me pictures of furniture and fabrics. It was fantastic to watch her.”

Adrien suppressed a grin, chuckling in amusement instead. “Then, I suppose I should expect Plagg visiting me more often than usual. He always gets grumpy when Tikki pays more attention to her work than him.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Please. He knows she loves him more than anything. He just likes to sulk for her attention.”

“We do like when our women notice us.”

“Really?” Her eyes half-lidded, Marinette turned to Adrien with a teasing smile on her lips and sultriness in her voice. “Then, please, do tell me what kind of attention you like, Chaton? Because, you know—” She stepped closer and torturously slowly ran her fingers atop of his chest, “—I wouldn’t want you to doubt my love and bemoan your fate the same way Plagg does. I’d like to make sure you’re certain of my feelings for you.”

Adrien felt something stir inside. The look Marinette was giving him, the mischievous tone of her voice, the way her lips curled, her touch at his chest… they’d better get to what they were here for, because a few more moments, and he’d be cancelling all plans and taking Marinette home instead, angry Plagg and Tikki and all the others or not. She was already driving his crazy all evening long with her constant teasing, something she suspected she’d picked up from Tikki. Not that he was complaining, but he was a mere mortal man. He wasn’t invulnerable and he definitely had his limits.

Clearing his throat, Adrien averted his sight and pressed the elevator’s button. “What level was it at again? The top one, right?”

“Yup. Lucky her, she snatched a penthouse.” Marinette wrapped her hand around his arm, a smirk on her lips telling him she knew exactly how she was making him feel, and she regretted nothing.

The door ringer dinged and as soon as the elevator opened, Adrien motioned for her to enter. “After you.”

The rode up mostly in silence. Marinette’s hands wrapped around his arm, she leaned onto his shoulder, speaking a short while into their ride, not even hiding the mischief in her voice. “Maybe we should’ve been rude and took our club clothes up here to change. Would’ve been more convenient than at the Kwami Kave’s change room.”

“If we’d done that” Adrien replied. “You know we’d be stuck here for a lot longer then we’re supposed to.”

“Well, maybe that’s what I want?” She said just as the door opened. “It’s my birthday. I should be able to call at least some of the shots.”

Adrien couldn’t keep a smile off his face. Gosh, he loved this woman! There was never a dull moment with her around. Stubborn and fiery one minute, sweet and cuddly the other. She always kept him on his toes, and that was just perfect. Exactly what he needed after the monotonous life he’d been leading before. So as soon as they’d walked out, he wrapped her into his arms and stole a moment for a kiss.

“I promise we’ll make our club visit as short as you want,” he whispered, pulling back. “Wait for their surprise, and then one word, and I’ll whisk you away before anyone would notice.”

“It’s not because I don’t like going there,” Marinette murmured, laying her head on his chest. “I do. I love Kwami Kave. It’s like a second home. It’s just lately, I’ve become fonder of just cuddling the evening away with you than going out.”

“I feel exactly the same way.” Adrien smiled, tightening his hold on her. “A quiet evening with you sounds just about perfect.”

“Then…” Marinette pulled back and grabbed his hand in hers. She bit her lip for a moment before raising her big blue eyes at him. “I know you’ve already given me the earrings as my present today, and I love them. They’re gorgeous. Not to mention the dinner and you’re taking me to Kwami Kave, but… would it be too selfish if I’d ask you for something I’ve been really wanting for a while now?”

Reaching forward, Adrien brushed her bangs away just so a moment later he could lean his forehead against hers. “You know I’ll give you anything you want if I can. So, ask away. It isn’t selfish at all.”

“Well…” she started a bit hesitant. “You know how you’d been living at Plagg’s for a while now, and you’ve hinted you wanted to get a place of your own soon… and how we’d go to each other’s places every so often… well, practically all the time now because, really, I don’t think we’ve spent a day apart in the last few months…”

“We haven’t,” Adrien sighed, his eyes closed. “I know I’ve been too clingy, so if it bothers you—”

“No,” Marinette rushed to interrupt. “It doesn’t. Not at all. In fact, I think… I think we should move in that direction.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow, opening his eyes to look at Marinette. “What do you mean by that?”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly before that spark of confidence appeared in her eyes again. “Adrien Agreste,” Marinette said quickly as if trying to get it out before she’d change her mind. “Would you move in with me? I know my place isn’t as big as Plagg’s and it’s not as extravagant, but we’ll be living together. I’m kind of tired of figuring out which place we should go to or of scrambling in the morning because we’ve forgotten something crucial at the other place or the worst: thinking that you’ll go home and I’ll be feeling lonely all evening long. Plus—” her voice filled with teasing notes, “—if we live together, that means more private dances for you. Señorita style.”

Adrien’s lips tagged in a smug smirk. “Are you trying to seduce me into moving in with you?”

“I’m not above doing whatever it takes if I really want something, so yes, if it’ll work, then absolutely, I’m trying to seduce you into moving in with me.”

Adrien laughed, pulling her closer. Cradling her cheek, he lightly brushed his lips against hers. “You could’ve just yelled at me, ‘Hey, you! Mangy alley cat! Grab your toothbrush and forget where that Camembert-obsessed glutton lives.’ I’d jumped at the chance that very instant.”

Marinette grinned. “But I really wanted to mention Señorita-style dancing. I know how much you love it.”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “How could you miss a chance to remind me how weak of a man I am, and how you’ve got me all wrapped around your little finger?”

Marinette giggled. Adrien reached down and brought her closer for another kiss. Holding her against himself, he didn’t rush, savouring the lushness of her lips, the sweetness of her touch, the warmth of her breath. The hallway was empty; there was no need reason for haste. Marinette, however, was his. All his and his alone, and the greedy man he’d become when it came to her, he wanted to indulge.

“We should go,” Adrien said, pulling away. “If I have a moving in with you to look forward to, staying alive would be nice. And you know Tikki: she’d never let me live if I’d fail to keep a promise. Today that means bringing you to the Kwami Kave.”

Marinette giggled. “Come on. She loves you. You can’t deny that.”

“Maybe,” Adrien shrugged. “But hard love is a thing, and Tikki is its mistress.”

Marinette laughed. “Okay, you’ve got me there. We probably should go. It’s this way.” Grabbing his hand, Marinette tugged Adrien into the apartment’s direction. The key out of her purse, she opened the door, walked in and froze in the foyer.

The whole place was filled with balloons, some floating at the ceiling, some hovering in midair, with only a few laying on the floor that was covered with flower petals along the walls.

Marinette gasped, her purse falling to the floor.

Behind her, Adrien closed the door after himself. “Surprise.”

She swirled around to look at him. “What’s going on? Adrien, do you have something to do with it?”

“Decorating the place? Yes. That was my idea, but Nino and Plagg helped.”

“Plagg?” She quirked an eyebrow.

“He mostly bossed us around, but yeah, Plagg helped too.” Adrien motioned to the living room. “Would you like to follow the trail?”

Marinette hesitated for a split moment before a smile sneaked onto her face and she walked into the direction balloons and flower petals went. It didn’t take her long to reach a spacious room with a built-in fireplace, huge floor to ceiling windows, beautiful iron balcony-imitating railing on the other side. The room was free of furniture, balloons and flower petals on the floor filling the room in addition to a few rose bouquets that stood sparingly across space. An elegant banner stood on top of the fireplace. It read,

“Welcome Home.”

Marinette spun around. “Adrien?”

Adrien smiled at her. “If you want it to be.”

“But Tikki… She said… Oh my gosh! Adrien! What’s going on here?”

He walked closer, taking her hands in his. “I wanted to ask you to move in with me for a while now, but since I didn’t have a place of my own, I had to find one before I could do that. And I promise I did want to involve you in that search since, hopefully, I was searching for our potential home together, and I wanted you to love it as much as I would. But I also wanted to make it a surprise for your birthday, which made it a little difficult to involve you in the search.” He nervously chuckled. “I hope I make sense now because it sounds a bit confusing to me.”

“You make perfect sense,” Marinette said. “That’s why you asked Tikki to help you? To keep it a surprise for me?”

“Yes. She knows you the best, so she helped me to narrow down to the final five, and then she took you there under the pretence of buying herself an investment. She said you loved this one so much she would’ve had to have been blind to miss it. So, this was the one I’ve got for us. Hopefully. Uh… But you already asked me to move in so yes, I’ve got it for us.”

Marinette chuckled. “Too bad for you I beat you to the asking to move in together part.”

Throwing his hand against his forehead, Adrien dramatically lamented. “Yes! You did. Woe is me! All my hard practice in front of the mirror! All gone to waste. What shall I do? How will I survive this?”

“Awww.” She patted his cheek. “You can ask me if you want. I’ll even pretend to be surprised.”

Adrien perked. “May I?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Adrien breathed in and out. He cleared his throat. “So… I’ve been thinking lately. Of us… as in you and me, and how we work together, which I think is great because we do work great together, wouldn’t you say so? In everything. We’re a great team in dancing, and in business, and very much so in life. And I love you, Marinette. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore. I want to share every minute with you, be it a sad or a happy one, and I want to share your moments. All of them. The best of them and the ugly ones. Because I love you and because you inspire me to be the better me. You give me strength and motivation to live my very best life, and I want to spend the rest of it by your side. So, I thought that, maybe… we should… No. Maybe you would… Would you consider moving in with me?”

Marinette’s lips stretched in a smile as she nodded.

Adrien reached into his jacket and pulled a small box out.

Marinette froze, her eyes widening, lips parting.

Kneeling down on his knee, Adrien opened the box and added, “As my wife.”

Glancing briefly at the princess-cut centre stone set in a delicate, white gold band, Adrien continued, “Now it’s me who’s wondering if I’m being too selfish, but I want more, Marinette. I want us to not only be together but to be a family. I promise I’ll cherish you until my last breath and I’ll treasure every minute you’ll allow me to stand by your side. We’ll buy all the hamsters you want, and I think three kids sounds amazing, especially if they are named Emma, Louis and Hugo. Those are great names.”

Marinette squeaked. “How do you know?”

“Tikki and Plagg might have slipped a few too many hints here and there, almost every time you weren’t in the room.”

Marinette groaned. “Those two. I should’ve known.”

Adrien raised the box in his hand a little higher. “Will you marry me, Marinette?”

Marinette gave him one of the lovelies smiled he’d ever seen as she kneeled down and took his hand in hers. “Partners in dance. Partners in work. Partners in life. Till death do us part.”

Adrien forgot how to breathe. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Marinette nodded. “As if I could ever say anything but ‘yes’ to you, Chaton.”

He tackled her into a hug, both of them tumbling to the ground, with Marinette somehow ending up on top of Adrien.

Laughing, she pushed back to look at him. “I love you, my sweet, handsome dork.”

“Love you, too,” Adrien whispered, reaching for his fiancée’s face to bring her down into a kiss. “More than I can express.”

Once they pulled apart, Adrien tried his best not to disturb their position as he reached for the ring box. Noticing his intentions, Marinette pushed herself off him and sat down. Adrien followed, grabbing the box and pulling the ring out. Her hand in his, he slid the ring on her finger and grinned. “And now you’re stuck with me.”

“And I couldn’t be happier about that,” Marinette smiled, bopping his nose with her finger. ”That’s even a better present than I’ve wanted.”

He pulled her closer, resting their foreheads together. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she sighed against him.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. Then, the top of her knuckles. The inside of her palm. “And I’m sorry to say but we had to be at the Kwami Kave ten minutes ago.”

“They can wait,” Marinette whispered. Her hands reaching to cradle Adrien’s face, she pulled him closer. “It’s my birthday, and I want to kiss my fiancée senseless.”

“You know it doesn’t take much, don’t you?” he murmured against her lips. “You take my breath away just by being close.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself,” Marinette whispered, placing a kiss on his neck. “Because I’m taking my main present now, and no one can stop me.”

“As you wish,” Adrien barely breathed out and closed his eyes as Marinette nibbled at his earlobe. “Anything you want, my Lady. Just ask.”

“I already have everything I need right here in front of me,” Marinette whispered, silencing Adrien with a kiss.

_______________________________________________________________________

Next >

#ladynoirjuly2019 #Adrienette #post reveal #fluff #kisses and flirting #aged-up

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bossladytae · 6 years ago

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Five Key HijiTae Moments

Gif Source (Permission granted to hyperlink gifs, so please like or reblog from the original post, thank you.)

I’ve been shipping Hijikata x Tae /土妙 since 2007, and as self-proclaimed captain of this ship, I’ve sailed without expecting a canon ending. Indeed, I expected nothing more beyond the Yagyuu arc, but Sorachi gave me even more moments to be thankful for - five of which are compiled in this post as a final send-off.

Before I begin, I wish to convey my gratitude to @arirna, who is the chief officer of the HijiTae ship, as well as the Tsukuyo to my Tae, our ladies whom we adore so much. I’ve much enjoyed all our numerous discussions on many topics. You make great gifs (thanks for granting my requests! And for allowing me to use and link them in this post because I couldn’t figure out how to embed just one gif from a single post, woe is me), and you’ve long been a staunch supporter of the ship. I will never be able to thank you enough, my friend!

Now then, to the Moments:

I’ve written a summarized analysis of HijiTae and why I like them as a ship before, along with brief mention of other viable Tae and Hijikata ships heavily implied in canon (Kondou, Kyuubei, Mitsuba), so I’m not going to get into them for this post, which is purely to celebrate each HijiTae moment, counting down to what I feel is the most important one.

(5) Episode 18, the “Underwear Thief”

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“Tear him apart.”

“Dismember him and stomp him into the ground.”

“Hey! Both of you are getting very scary!”

Hijikata and Okita are not present in the original manga story arc, but they are added to the anime (no doubt to appeal to audiences with their growing popularity at the time). This is the first instance that made me see the appeal of their potential relationship, as well as the potential friendship that can result from their rare interactions. Early on in the series, I had no particular ships in mind until I watched this episode. Hijikata and Tae start talking about the best ways to torture somebody, and they eventually get so out of hand with their discussion, complete with shoujo anime bubbles and all, that Shinpachi breaks them up because they are too terrifying together. And, indeed, they would be the most terrifying couple in the country.

(4) Character Poll Arc

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“As long as you are around, Shinsengumi, including Kondou-san, won’t be able to stand alone at the top.”

“So you intend to eliminate the woman who is the source of your boss’ scandalous behaviour? I would expect no less from the Demon Vice-Chief. You’re used to doing dirty work.”

Dashing the Fourth Wall to pieces, this arc addresses the original concepts behind some of the characters, particularly those that are based on real historical figures. When Tae rallies Kyuubei, Kagura, Tsukuyo, and Sacchan together to stand against the men, Hijikata and Katsura soon accost them – one to Tae and the other to Kyuubei, and both line-ups make the best sense for each character. Katsura and Kyuubei bicker over their shared characteristics, and they also know each other better since Katsura was once invited to Kyuubei’s birthday party. Tae also knows Katsura, but she’s very familiar to the Shinsengumi for obvious reasons. Hijikata and Tae facing off allows Kondou to seamlessly return to the scene, since he has closer ties to Hijikata and Tae.

What I enjoy about this interaction is the way Tae is fearless around Hijikata; his demon nickname and reputation don’t intimidate her. She knows just how to push his buttons, too, teasing him about his voice actor and how historians have a bone to pick with such brazen depictions of famed samurai. As for Hijikata, he reveals that he knows just how much of a powerful force she is, wielding great influence over the Shinsengumi, impacting their reputation with their commander under her thumb.

This interaction shows the potential for fun bantering and bickering between them. They don’t hesitate to challenge one another, and as we see in the top two moments below, they also don’t hesitate to support or defend one another/what’s important to them for the other’s sake.

(3) Timeskip Arc

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“Please, for our child’s sake, we have to run away! To a world without gorillas!”

“Did you think something like this would fool me? Give me the kid and scram. I’ll look after him.”

Never in my wildest imagination did I think Sorachi would give us a canon child for this ship. Togoro is the hypothetical son of Hijikata and Tae in an otherwise hilarious farce of a story arc. Tae is noted to be pregnant and married to Kondou, and then gives birth within an hour to a baby whose father is revealed to be Hijikata. She wants to run off with him and raise their child together. Hijikata refuses, saying he will raise the child as a single father. And then he proceeds to name the child (as a fifteenth son and as a combination of his and Tamegoro’s names) and begs Shinpachi to let Togoro live.

Some people say Tae’s ambition was to have a child with Hijikata. To me, it’s more like she envisioned a soap opera plot line, typical of the drama series she watches, especially since when she and Hijikata first talk in the Yagyuu arc, she imagined Kondou and Hijikata vying for her affections in true theatrical style. She could have had that baby with somebody else, but once again, Hijikata is in the mix, and probably made for a more dramatic soap opera story line of a woman caught between the police chief and his deputy.

As for Hijikata’s ambition, well, it’s a little hard to say since he and Shinpachi were the stand-in for the audience, trying to unravel this mystery of a wart-infused world only to find that they had become warts themselves. At least we see that Hijikata, once confronted with the possibility of fatherhood, was willing to take responsibility. He’s not explicitly interested in Tae as a romantic prospect, and I don’t expect it since Sorachi would and should have written obvious interest (something that people can’t deny) between them right from the start, so that it would make sense later.

But, it doesn’t change the fact that Togoro is Hijikata and Tae’s hypothetical son and theirs alone, warts and all.

(2) Farewell Shinsengumi Arc

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“If you really do want to drink, I don’t mind spending a while with you.”

“If you poured it for me with that face, I wouldn’t be able to drink it.”

There are few moments that have triggered Hijikata into fierce emotional reaction. He has shed tears for Mitsuba, the Shinsengumi’s disbandment and Kondou’s arrest, and Kondou’s revival. He’s gotten angry on behalf of not only Kondou, but also Tetsunosuke for what Isaburou was doing and saying to him. Hijikata is short-tempered, most of the time for comedic purposes, and he’s endured many ordeals in his young life, so it takes a lot to push him over the edge into true sorrow and true rage.

Nobu Nobu cuts the neck (actually does cut it in the manga) of a teary-eyed Tae, who defended Kondou and his reputation. She knows she could easily lose her life for going against the Shogun. That was the reason Hijikata had held back on doing or saying anything. Perhaps he feared anything he might do would advance Kondou’s execution, threaten the remaining Shinsengumi, and further endanger civilians’ lives. Feeling he could do nothing, he stood there, taking the shame and the mockery from both Isaburou and Nobu Nobu – that is, until Tae’s life is threatened. And, finally, Hijikata reacts with a terrifying gleam of rage in his eyes.

This is the kind of trope that comes standard with any kind of ship, romantic or platonic, when someone shows great concern and fury for another being threatened. If this were another series, people would be proclaiming “canon” all over the place, but in this fandom, very few acknowledge this scene, and they skip over to other parts instead. But that doesn’t make Hijikata or Tae’s acts insignificant.

As for Tae, we’ve seen her shed tears of sorrow for Kyuubei, for Hajime, and now for Kondou. While it has taken many chapters to reach this point, it’s clear she respects and believes him to be a good man. Standing up to a tyrannical shogun at this point in the story could mean immediate execution. Tae risked her life to defend Kondou, to stand up for what she believed in, and it did not go unnoticed. We know how devoted Hijikata is to Kondou, how his arrest left Hijikata in such a broken state of mind, but Tae’s defense and life-threatening moment sparked something once more; the catalyst needed for when the rest of the Shinsengumi reignited that fire within.

Of course, it could have been anyone else, and Hijikata would have done his best to ensure no civilians are harmed. But he wasn’t able to move or act during that time of mockery by his enemies. He said and felt he couldn’t do anything at all with Kondou gone. But I think hearing Tae’s impassioned speech, sharing in her belief that Kondou would never conduct himself so shamefully, inspired him to act. He knows Tae is important to Kondou, and I like to think Tae is important enough to Hijikata as a comrade, as a friend—and the potential for more is what fans love about this scene.

Kozenigata did call the Shinsengumi, “her police,” and that includes Hijikata. It’s why she played a role in the Farewell Shinsengumi arc, and in the Silver Soul arc, she welcomed them back home to Edo. The Shinsengumi admire, fear, and respect Tae, and so her police they remain.

(1) Yagyuu Arc

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“I…am the worst, aren’t I? In the end…going off on my own…I got other people hurt because of it. Causing trouble for Kyuu-chan…and for everyone else. Even though I couldn’t see it through until the very end, I did it with such half-hearted conviction… What I did in the end wasn’t for anyone’s sake.”

“You’re not a Buddha. Did you think you could save everyone in front of you? No matter how many bones you break trying, there are things you can save and things you can’t. So what? Is your way of life so fragile that it would break with this? Now, if there was someone who could be saved by your so-called half-hearted kindness…what would you do?”

This is the official first HijiTae moment within Sorachi’s manga canon: the Yagyuu arc launched two new Tae ships. You’d think the previous moment would be the culmination of everything, but it is the beginning that I find the most important because it shows that Hijikata and Tae are capable of civil conversation and speaking to one another as equals.

We first start out with a comedic exchange in which Tae thinks Hijikata has come to battle for her heart against Kondou, followed by a brief banter of which drama series best suits Kondou and Tae’s imaginary tales. But the point of his visit is to convince Tae to marry Kondou just to help him avoid marrying a gorilla. He earns bonus points for saying that “No means no” when a woman declines.

Later, after the main events of the arc, Tae invites everyone back to Snack Smile to apologize to them, but they’re present at Kondou’s wedding. Only Hijikata goes, and I think he went back because he knows Tae has a good heart. He doesn’t ask her specifically to marry Kondou again, but he listens to her outpouring of feelings over the situation. He then gives practical advice, and in a roundabout way, asks if she will consider just saving Kondou from his wedding at least. And Tae does.

What I love about this arc is their conversations – from casual and fun to serious and thought-provoking – and it didn’t take them hundreds of chapters to reach that point. They arrived there easily and naturally. This quiet moment of introspection they share was more than enough for me to solidify my love for them, and that fondness for the HijiTae ship has continued on for almost twelve years.

BONUS: Soul Switch Arc

A bonus only because it doesn’t strictly involve the two of them alone.

People often forget that Tae only blushed after Hijikata-in-Gintoki’s-body flirted with her. She was charmed by Hijikata’s way of flirting, which was very genteel and sincere and a bit impassioned, much like the way he wrote Shinpachi’s letter for Kirara. When Gintoki-in-Hijikata’s body attempted his usual way of flirting, Tae was unimpressed, aside from being skeptical that Hijikata would truly proposition her. However, once she took it as truth, she was more than willing to consider him a prospect.

In my opinion, Gintoki on his own really doesn’t do anything for Tae since the only moments she was romantically attracted to him was when he lost his memories and original personality, and when he was actually Hijikata. She has also mentioned desiring a partner with a stable income, and I can see someone more traditional, not to mention stricter in handling one’s responsibilities, fitting in better with her lifestyle (hence why Kondou and Kyuubei are the other commonly teased ships), whereas Gintoki is more unconventional about life, going at his own pace. Tae always bases her life around goals and working toward them; she’s not the type to sit around, doing nothing, waiting only to welcome people home when she has a life and dream of her own, too.

There are some other minor interactions (not to mention that Otose and Tatsugoro parallel), but these five are the most important and relevant.

And there you have it. This is a summary of why I enjoy the Hijikata x Tae ship so much. They are both people who hold fast to their convictions, and who do their best to be strong for others’ sake, both leading, respectively, a district and a military police force. They are capable of comedic and civil conversations with one another; prone to bickering but also fighting for one another’s cause based on what they feel is right. At the very least, they remain friends and comrades in the end.

Nothing changes what Sorachi wrote about and for them. It was all his decision, not mine, and if others can celebrate moments for their ship, then there’s no reason I can’t, either. All the negative arguments people throw at me, I have addressed before, so I will not waste time doing so again. I’m not obligated to respond or justify a fictional ship to strangers on the Internet at their demand. Fandom is not a monolith required to bend to a single person’s will, and liking one ship doesn’t cause the erasure of others (that line of reasoning is beyond ridiculous). If you don’t like the ship, the simplest thing is to move on with your life and forget the ship exists.

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crashdevlin · 6 years ago

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New Romantics-3: Blame and Blood

New Romantics Masterlist

Author’s Note: This is a multi-chapter sequel to Wildest Dreams

Summary: Dean told y/n that she’d pick up the machete and rock salt again, but he’s surprised to see her at Harvelle’s Roadhouse less than a year later. She’s nervous to tell him and Sam the catalyst for her to start hunting again.

Pairing(s): Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader x Dean (no wincest), surprise! x Reader (no actual smut here, just sexual aggressiveness)

Word Count: 4397

Story Warnings: Smut, 18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!, anal sex, oral sex (fem and male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, bloodplay, canon-appropriate character deaths, manipulation, BoyKing!Sam and Intended Queen!Reader!

Chapter Warnings: Alcohol as a crutch, depression, self-blame, Dean blaming reader for shit, BoyKing!Sam, manipulation, demon blood, being high on demon blood...

Bobby's been calling me for days, leaving voicemails about the end of the world, but I can't answer. I can't return the calls. I can't prepare for the end because I can't stop seeing Dean in my head sobbing over Sam's lifeless body. I can't stop hearing her-fault in my head. I've crawled into a bottle... and another... and another. I've been sprawled out on this motel bed for two days, a steadily growing pile of empties on the floor.

I'm blacked out when Bobby shows up, picks my lock and lets himself into my motel room. He picks me up and drops me in the bathtub, turns the shower on to spray cold water across me. I moan and try to escape the cold, but Bobby holds me down with a hand on my collar. "You need to sober up, girl. You missed some important shit while you were in the bottom of those bottles, ignorin' my calls."

"Bobby, no. Go 'way."

"I ain't here for your self-pitying bullshit, kid. Hundreds of demons escaped a hell's gate and you've been here-"

"I got Sam killed!" I exclaim, grabbing Bobby's hand and trying to pry his fingers off of my shirt.

"And Dean brought him back!"

My eyes widen at that, and I sit up. "He didn't do what John did. Tell me he didn't do what John did!" Bobby just looks away from me and I scramble to get out of the tub. The motion makes me nauseated, and I scrabble along the tile floor to eject whiskey into the toilet bowl. Bobby pulls my hair out of my face and rubs my back. "How long?" I groan, the sound bouncing off of the porcelain.

"A year. A year to get him out of it, girl. A year to fix the mess the yellow eyed demon made." Bobby stands and heads into the main room, tossing a towel and a new set of clothes from my duffel. "We need you, sweetheart. We need you sober and not drowning in guilt. It wasn't yer fault."

"Sam wouldn't've left. I tried to get him to... he wanted to save them, and they killed him an' I wasn' 'ere."

Bobby sighed, heavily, as I pulled myself up from the bathroom floor, pulling on the sink counter. "That ain't important. What's important is fighting the army the demon brought forth." I look up into the old man's tired eyes and take a deep breath. "Don't matter if you think they want you there, y/n. We need you there. Ash is gone. We need yer brains."

I nod. "Let me get a real shower. I'll be out in a few." He squeezes my shoulder and walks out of the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I drink a bit of the dog that bit me and I start combing through newspapers, looking for signs of the hundreds of demons Bobby says made it out through the hell's gate in Wyoming. "Sam an' Dean said you was... you were like Sam? That's why you were in Cold Oak?" Bobby asks, suddenly. I look down. "Why didn't you say somethin'?"

"Why didn't I tell a hunter that I could read minds and had been having visions of death and destruction and that I dropped my shotgun on a hunt and made it fly back to my hand with my mind? Is that a question you're actually asking me, Bobby?"

"I wasn't gonna hurt you, y/n! I've known you since you were knee-high."

"I know, but I didn't even tell my father when I started having visions, Bobby. I only told Sam because I... I had to." I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. It's gone. Since I've been sober... ish... Since I've been awake, I've noticed it's gone. I can't hear you. It's over."

"That's over, but the rest ain't." Bobby says, pulling his laptop up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We find a swarm of cicadas and some crop death in Lincoln, Nebraska and load up in his old Chevelle. Bobby calls Sam from the road, putting the phone on speaker so I can talk, too, even though he knows I won't. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Bobby." Sam responds.

"What'cha doin'?"

"Oh, same old, same old."

"You buried in that book again?" It's the same book Sam's apparently been looking at for a week. "Sam, you wanna break Dean free of that deal, you ain't gonna find the answer in no book."

"Then where, Bobby?"

"Kid, I wish I knew. So, where's your brother?"

"Polling the electorate." Sam answers.

"What?" Bobby doesn't get the Simpsons reference, but I do. Dean's fucking some skank in a dirty motel. A thrill of jealousy runs through me but I ignore it. I have no right.

"Never mind." Sam dismisses.

"Well, you boys better pack it up. I think we finally found something."

"We?" Sam asked.

I want to shake my head, leave it as long as possible before the Winchesters know I'm involved, but I bite my tongue and Bobby sighs. "Y/n. I found her."

"Is she okay?" Sam asks, a worried tone on his words. "Where did she go after Cold Oak?"

Bobby gives me a look that says 'I told you you were overreacting, girl' and clears his throat. "She thought she got you killed, so she tried to drown herself in bourbon."

"What? She didn't get me killed. Bobby, it wasn't her-"

"Yeah, now she's blamin' herself for Dean makin' that deal, too."

"None of this woulda happened if I'd just listened to her, Bobby. She tried to get me to leave the others to their own devices, she tried to warn me about Ava back before Lily even turned up dead. None of this is her fault."

"Dean thinks it is." I say, finally.

"Y/n! What-"

"Before I ran, when he was... when he was holding you, I could hear it, feel it... he blames me, Sam, and he's not wrong."

"Yes, he is. He's very wrong. It's not your fault, y/n." I bite my lip. "If Dean still thinks that, he's wrong. All you did was get out. That's it. Jake stabbed me, and he only had that opportunity because I didn't kill him when I had the chance. All of it... all of it was the demon's fault."

I swallow and look down. "If I'd stayed, I could have helped."

"Or you could've got yourself killed, too. Look, we'll talk more when we get up together. What'd you find, and where?"

As Bobby runs down the information for Sam, I bite my thumbnail. I'm nervous about seeing them but happy that Sam at least doesn't blame me for his demise. We make it to the outskirts of Lincoln early the next morning and we quickly find the house which seems to be ground zero for the cicada plague. We don't go in, calling Sam to let him know where we are, and I hop up onto the back of the Chevelle to wait for the boys. "So, where's your daddy been, girl?" Bobby asks, trying to make small talk.

"He's been down in South America. There's some... Norte Chicoan artifact he's trying to track down. He didn't give me much in the way of details. He was trying to respect my... decision to stay out of the game."

Bobby looks down. "He know yer back in?"

I shake my head. "What would I say, Bobby? 'I started having visions and doing weird shit with my mind so I got back into hunting to prove to a demon that I wasn't gonna play his game?' No. No, I don't think that'd fly. Just keep... doing what I'm doing."

There's a moment of silence. "Ain't my business, but you might wanna call 'im. Since ya almost died in Cold Oak and yer back huntin' puttin' yer life in danger... might be a good thing fer a dad to know."

I sigh. Calling Dad is about as high on my list as an ice pick lobotomy. Fortunately, we don't have to keep talking, because the familiar roar of Dean Winchester's Impala engine pulls our attention to the end of the driveway. The Winchester boys get out of the car, Dean chewing on a burger. His eyes jump to mine, then pointedly look away. Sam wraps his arms around me and I melt, wrapping my arms around his chest. "Sam, I'm so sorry." I whisper, just loud enough for Sam to hear me.

"It's not your fault." He whispers.

I pull back and sigh, loudly, unable to stop it. "I wish I could still read your mind. I could use some of those complimentary thoughts."

Sam kisses my forehead. "I'll tell you all about what I'm thinking later, okay?" I nod. He turns to Bobby, hands going into his pockets. "So, Bobby, what do you think? We got a biblical plague here, or what?"

"Well, let's find out. Looks like the swarm's ground zero." Bobby says walking toward the front door of the farmhouse.

Dean pops a piece of gum into his mouth to deal with his early-morning burger breath and knocks on the door. "Candygram!" He shouts. No one answers, so Dean pulls out his lock pick equipment and the rest of us pull our guns. As soon as the door opens, we're hit with a wall of stench, the smell of decay causing us to flinch and cover our noses.

"That's awful." Sam says quietly.

"That so can't be a good sign."

I find the sitting room first, gagging as I look at the family of desiccated corpses watching 'Dallas', though the television probably wasn't on 'Dallas' when they died. Sam and Dean burst into the room and recoil at the smell. Bobby's next. No one knows what happened here. Dean tells us to check for sulfur, then stops us with a whistle to gesture at us, let us know he saw something outside. He walks out to the porch and Bobby and I follow around the other side of the house. We watch as Dean gets beat down with the butt of a shotgun by a semi-familiar face.

"Issac? Tamara?" Bobby says, rushing forward.

"Bobby! What the hell are you doing here?" Tamara's accent makes the connection in my head and I rush forward.

"I could ask the same." Bobby responds.

"Tamara!" I smile at her.

"Y/n! Look at you! You were just a wee thing last I saw you!"

"I was eighteen, that's not so wee." I say.

"Sixteen." Sam corrects, quietly, walking up behind me. Shit. Sometimes even I forget Dad and I added two years to my age.

"Heya, Bobby. Hey, y/n." Issac greets.

"Hello." Dean raises an arm and pitifully waves for attention. "Bleeding here." I reach out and grab his hand, pulling him up off the porch easily. He discretely rubs his hand against his jeans like he's trying to rid himself of my cooties. I sigh and retreat away from him before he sees the devastation in my eyes. I turn the corner of the house and Sam is almost instantly upon me.

"Hey. You okay?"

"I don't need to be a mind reader to know what he's thinking. He still blames me."

"He's wrong." Sam insists.

"Yeah. So you keep saying." I take a deep breath. "It's fine. More important things. I'm gonna go find a pay phone and... call in the bodies." I smile tightly and rush away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've kinda dissociated since we've been at Tamara and Issac's place. I feel like I'm being watched. I feel like I need to kill something. I feel like I need a drink. I come back to myself as Dean walks into the room with his phone up to his ear. "Well, Jenny, if you look as pretty as you sound, I'd love to have an... appletini. Yeah. Call you." He hangs up and looks around the room. "That was the coroner's tech."

"And?" Sam asks.

"Get this. That whole family, cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There's no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up."

"But there was a fully stocked kitchen just yards away." Bobby says.

"Right. What is this, a demon attack?" Sam asks.

"If it is, it's not like anything I ever saw, and I've seen plenty." Bobby says.

"Well, what now?" Dean looks around the room. "What should we do?"

"Uh, we're not gonna do anything." Issac says.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks.

"You guys seem nice enough, but this ain't Scooby Doo and we don't play well with others." Issac answers.

"I think we'd cover a lot more ground if we all worked together." Sam says.

"No offense, but we're not teaming with the damn fools who let the Devil's Gate get open in the first place."

"No offense?" Dean says, his eyebrows scrunched together.

Heat fills my chest. "Were you there? They didn't let shit-"

"Y/n, don't." Sam says.

"No! This ain't on you. Jake opened that door! Jake killed you and opened that door and Bobby fuckin' closed it."

"They shoulda stopped Jake before it got open." Issac growls at me.

"Issac." Tamara admonishes. "Like you've never made a mistake."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. Locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world, though."

Dean chuckles, but he feels like he's about to throw a punch. I feel the same. "All right. That's enough."

"Guys, this isn't helping. Dean-"

"Look, there are a couple hundred more demons out there now. We don't know where they are, when they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us. On all of us." Issac says. Tamara grabs his arm and pulls him away.

"Okay, that's enough testosterone for now." She says, leaving the room.

I shake my head and stomp out of the house. I bite my lip and start walking. I don't know where I'm walking, but I'm completely certain I'm not going back to Tamara and Issac's place. I make it to the mains of Lincoln before I decide to hit a bar. I drop onto a stool and order a bourbon. The bartender gives me a look that says he knows I'm in a bad place, but he doesn't ask. I down it quickly and hold up my hand for another. "You'll never be able to stop this alone, you know."

"I'm not alone." I turn to the owner of the accented voice. "And stop what?" I gawk a little at the attractive older man. He looks to be about forty-five, maybe fifty, with striking hazel-gold eyes. He's wearing a designer suit, Armani or something. He obviously catches my stare because his lips twist into a smug smirk.

"Well, you look alone, darling." He leans closer to me and I get a whiff of a musky cologne, strong scotch whiskey and just a hint of rotten eggs. "Sitting here drinking while your boyfriends try to figure out what happened in that farmhouse."

"I don't have boyfriends." I smirk and lean away from him. "And I bet you could tell me what happened in that farmhouse, couldn't you?"

"I could. Do you want that?"

"And why would you do that? Why would you give me information, when I know what you are?"

"You don't know the half of what I am, pet." He smirks. "But the most important thing that I am is someone who was just fine with the old status quo. I'm someone who doesn't need or want a bunch of bloody ancients muckin' about in my territory, and I'm someone who can help you win the bloody war Azazel brought on."

"Listen to you sayin' 'someone' like you're a people. It's adorable." I take a drink of bourbon and lick it from my lips. I study its face, looking for... something. "How could you possibly help me win the war?"

"I can give you your powers back, teach you control. You can use your little gifts to save people, put things back the right way. The End of the World isn't very good for sales, I'm sure you understand."

I nod. "So, you're a crossroads demon."

"Crowley. King of the crossroads demons." His eyes fill in with red as he extends his hand. I take it, my eyes not leaving his... its eyes. Not a man. It's an 'it'.

"How can you give them back? The Yellow-Eyed Demon is dead." I won't admit to this creature that I miss the powers, that I miss knowing what people are thinking. That I was getting used to it, that I was hoping to get stronger.

"He's obviously not the only demon who knows how to tap into what you've got inside you, darling. Now, do you know how he turned you and all his special children into special children?"

I lick my lips and drop its hand. Bobby filled me in on this. "Demon blood. I was force-fed it as a baby."

"Right." It nods, its eyes regain the green-gold quality of its vessel. "Every bit of what made you extraordinary imparted in a few drops of blood."

"You obviously don't know what makes me extraordinary, then." I respond.

He smiles. It's not a smirk. It's a real, honest smile. "You're wrong about that. I know exactly what makes you extraordinary. And how sexy you can make a word like 'daddy' is only a small part." I look away from him. I don't know how he knows about that, but I'm not going to comment. "Your dedication to the job is paramount. You want to help people. I can help you help people."

"And what, you just need my soul?" I roll my eyes.

"No. Not your soul. I just need you to have a drink." He produces a glass vial with a dark red liquid in it.

"Is that-"

"Yes. It's mine, if that helps."

"Not much." I swallow and reach out to grab the vial. "I don't... What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You're not stupid, y/n." His fingertips release the glass and slide across my wrist. "A few drops gave you your gifts, what do you think a few more would do for you?"

I look down at his hand on me and shake my head. "You'll do well to keep your hands to yourself, Crowley, King of the Crossroads. Because I'm not stupid and I'm not going to be seduced by a demon."

He smirks and pulls his hand away, conjuring a burn phone and setting it on the top of the bar. "My number's the only one in there. Call when you decide to drink that. I'll work you through it."

I tuck the vial in my pocket and swivel on the bar stool until I'm looking straight at him. "And the family in the farmhouse?"

"Ah, yes. Check Binsfeld's Classification of Demons. Under 'S'." The demon says before disappearing. I immediately pull out a pen and write down 'Binsfeld's Demons- S' on a cocktail napkin. The vial feels heavy in my pocket as I throw down money on the counter and leave the bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I get a motel room and pour salt lines along the door and windows. I pull out the laptop I swiped from the room next door with the passed out businessman on the bed and find a digitized copy of Binsfeld's Classification of Demons after hacking a student sign-in for Harvard. I scroll to the S section and just past the demon Samhain, which just gives me more reason to hate Halloween, I see it. The Seven Sins. Not just sins, but actual demons which specialize in inspiring their specific sin. The farmers, they were just too lazy to get up and feed themselves, get water. Sloth's touch.

I read the entire entry three times before I sigh and shut the laptop. I flop face-down onto the bed and groan as the vial in my pocket digs into my leg. I pull it out of my pocket and slam it down on the side table, trying to ignore it and fall asleep, but my eyes keep opening and focusing on the bottle. I close them, tell myself it's stupid to even entertain the idea of drinking blood, especially demon blood, but after about twenty minutes I sit up and swipe the vial off of the table. I twist it, twirling it between my fingers, watching the dark red liquid move in the bottle, like a wave of dark syrup.

I know I shouldn't do it. I'm not stupid. Even the demon said I'm not stupid. But sometimes I make really stupid decisions.

As I twist open the top of the bottle, I tell myself that it's just scientific curiosity. That the demon put forth a hypothesis of what drinking his blood would do for me and I'm just testing to see if he was right. It's a lie. I know it's a lie. The blood is calling to me. I don't know if it's that I know it can give me back my gifts or the blood I've had in me my whole life yearning to be joined with the blood in the vial, but I know I need to taste it. Just a taste.

I dab a drop of blood onto my left index finger and stare at it. It's lighter in color outside of the bottle. I lick my lips and bring my hand up to sniff at the blood drop. It smells like iron and sulfur, which is exactly what I was expecting. "This is stupid." I go to wipe the blood off on my jeans, but I stop myself. "Fuck." I detour the finger up to my mouth and lick the blood off. It takes a few minutes to kick in, but when it does, I go into shivers. My body is suddenly burning hot and the motel room feels freezing cold. On the back of the sudden fever and my heart pounding in my ears, I notice that I can feel everything. Things I never noticed before, like the scratchy blanket I was lying under that I can feel every fiber of the fabric, the vibrations from the light in the lamp on the bedside table, the weight of the denim of my jeans. "Oh, my god." I whine.

The phone in my pocket goes off and I flip it open. "You were supposed to call me, Baby Girl." The demon's voice sends a shiver through my entire body and it's not because of the fever. My body reacts to the nickname conjuring up images of John in my head and I whimper. "I'm right outside your motel, sweetheart. Open the door."

"There's salt." I mutter.

"Then, move it. Don't you want me to help you, Baby Girl?"

I whine. "Don't call me that."

"You like it. Come on, pet, I can't help you through the phone."

"I don't even wanna move." I admit, sitting up.

"How much did you have, y/n?"

I take a deep breath and shuffle across the carpet to open the door. I run my boot across the salt line. "I had one... just a... just one drop." I move out of the way and he steps inside. It. It steps inside. Fuck, why did I just let it in?

"One drop, just to see what it does?" He places his hands on my hips and walks me backwards to the bed. I look into his vessel's eyes, breathing heavily. His fingertips feel warm, his body comfortable against mine. "Yore incredibly sensitive, aren't you? Thought a girl who's been drinking hard liquor since she was fifteen would have a bit more resistance."

"Liquor's not the same." I breathe out.

"Not at all." He smiles and pushes me to the bed. "Now, darling... tell me what I'm thinking."

I shake my head. "I don't know."

"Come on. It's only been a few days, Baby Girl. Yore not that rusty. What am I thinking?" I close my eyes as he climbs onto the bed with me, heavy hand running up under my shirt and rubbing his thumb in sweeping motions across my abs. An image forms in my mind. It's cloudy, grey around the edges, but it makes me moan when it comes into focus. Crowley with his face between my thighs, my wrists tied to the headboard above my head, me writhing under him. "That's a good girl. You know exactly what I'm thinkin', don't you?"

"No." I'm not denying that I know what he's thinking. I'm denying him. I grab his wrist and stop his hand in its upward movement. "You're... you're a demon."

"And you're high on my blood. Do you know how good it'd feel for you?" He leans down over me, brushes his lips over mine. "I can make you feel amazing."

"You're supposed to be helping me, not trying to fuck me." I whisper, closing my eyes as more images pour into my brain, each more raunchy that the last.

"I can do both." He growls against my mouth, pressing his lips harshly into mine. It feels good. I whine into him. He grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it off. I shiver in the cold of the room, but he immediately covers me with his warm body. He pushes my legs apart and settles between them, runs his tongue along my neck. "I'll fuck you until you come down from the blood and then we'll work on your powers." My phone goes off and it jolts me enough to bring me back to the real world, back to who I really am. I push the demon off of me and reach out my hand, smiling softly as my shirt flies into my hand.

"You're a demon." I slide the shirt over my head and pull my phone out. "I'm not fucking you." I check my text and smile. It's Sam. He's worried about me. I text to let him know I'm fine, that I got a motel and I'll track him down tomorrow. Then I turn to Crowley. "Start teaching, or I get the salt."

"More resistance than I thought you had." He grumbles, rolling off the bed. "Come on. Stand up. We've got a lot to do."

Supernatural Tags- @mrswhozeewhatsis, @letsby, @adoptdontshoppets

#cassie writes stuff #spn #spn fanfic #reader-insert #sam/reader #surprise!/reader #demon blood #the first taste is free

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gryffindormischief · 7 years ago

Note

Can you recommend ANY well written fan fiction for me? Preferably not too weird shippings. I haven't really entered this game yet and don't even know where to start...

HM. Well I have my rec’s page which has some general favorites but I can pick out some good ones to start with (this is how I got started reading fanfiction! someone made a little rec and I was hooked). I’m doing a mix of canon and AU but let me know if you have more specific requests :)

[Also idk what rating you want, so check them before you read because some are M!]

It’s under a read more because I got a little over excited :)

Hinny:

The First Day

The first year after the battle.

The Woes of Christmas Parties

Rushing off to her mother’s dreadful annual Christmas party, Ginny remembers a certain Christmas party that changed her life forever. Written for Checkmated’s Holiday Challenge

The Perks of Morning Afters

The morning after her mother’s annual Christmas party, Ginny wakes up to find herself not in her usual state… and a little something else lying with her in bed. (Sequel to “The Woes of Christmas Parties)

A Cannon’s Harpy

Ginny begins her life after school and a career in Quidditch. How will her new coach change her life? AU

In Every Universe: All In One Piece

‘This was lightness. This was love. This was right.’ After spending a moment alone with Harry during her eldest brother’s wedding, Ginny finds herself pregnant and must forgo her education for hiding. One-shot AU, set during DH.

Faintest, Slimmest, Wildest Chance

Although Harry and Ginny both survived the war, each bears scars from their year apart. The end of a war and the death of a brother don’t make for an easy romance, but as long as there is the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance… The Weasleys gained and lost a member in one night. Will they ever be whole again? Best Romance and Best Drama/Angst in the 2014 HP Fanfic Fan Poll Awards

Too Close

Five years after his defeat of Voldemort, Harry Potter is receiving death threats. Head Auror Christopher Vance needs to provide him with a protection detail, but given Potter’s history of refusing to co-operate with the Ministry, who can he send? Harry/Ginny A/U. Cover art by Viria. Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter.

Homerun

In scoring a homerun, one must attempt to touch all bases. First base, second, base, third base, home run.

You Wish

"There’s an old legend, about souls…” Harry Potter has lived his entire life knowing the legend of half souls, and when he wakes up on his seventeenth birthday with a cryptic two word message on his arm, he becomes part of the legend as well. [Jily Lives, No Voldemort AU. Based on the Tumblr post about soulmate tattoos.]

Atropos

Harry is brought in to St. Mungo’s after an auror mission gone wrong, and it’s up to Ginny, a potions expert at the Ministry, to save her boyfriend’s life after he is exposed to snake venom. H/G in four parts.

The Off Season

Injured, Ginny thought she would never fly again. Can Harry help her regain her confidence and return to the sport she loves?

The List

A freak accident clears the name of Sirius Black who then takes over the welfare of a young Harry Potter. A hideous discovery convinces Sirius Hogwarts is too dangerous for the young boy. Years later a lonely, over-worked Harry meets a young lady who will change his life and actually allow him to have a little fun. If only his fellow Aurors could work out who he was dating.

The Pact

Harry and Ginny make a pact that will change their lives. They just didn’t know it’d be such a big change. What happens when a little drunken agreement turns into something a lot more complicated? H/G, AU, Post-DH, Mature sexual content and themes.

such a beautiful blank (but smooth it)

Ginny picks a rose, and her world spins out of control.

Jily:

All Right, Evans?

Part I of in-progress trilogy [6th year]: The thing about being Lily Evans and James Potter was that you couldn’t do anything without everybody else saying something about it.

Haggis from Algernon

The fic about nothing. Complete.

Their Halcyon Days

Before they gave birth to a legend, they were just students, trying to hold on to hope as the war threatened to tear their world apart.

Polyjuiced

A very pregnant Lily invites the Marauders round to help her entertain James. Somehow, this degenerates into 4 Jameses wandering around her living room, with her having to guess which is her actual husband or (horror of horrors) lose a bet against Sirius Black. For hpshipweeks.

Seven Things

“James leans in. Lily hears the script crumple in his hands, but she doesn’t look to check. His lips touch the corner of hers, a hand coming up to cup her face. He is moving. So. Maddeningly. Slow… She curses in her head, makes up about a hundred thousand excuses for the next second—and then grabs him down by the back of his neck and kisses him fully, desperately, fervidly.” AU.

The Yeast I Can Do

Dr Lily Evans had an absolute shit day at work. Luckily, there’s a bakery nearby that offers a course that she hopes will take her mind off of things.

Question Time

Newly-elected Prime Minister Potter has his work cut out for him. If only a certain red-headed MP weren’t deliberately making life harder for him.

Bloody Shangrila

“The way she babbled on about the place made it seem like some sort of promise land, but James knew full well that is was nothing of the sort. Sowsworth was a wasteland that comprised of seven shops, a pub, and the incredibly bored shadows of lonely people. It was not bloody Shangri-la.” AU.

For All My Life

When saving the bees ends in a happy family.

Sunshine In My Eyes

Mr. and Mrs. Evans are killed when Lily’s only a girl, and she’s supposed to go to a home with her sister. Instead, a relative they didn’t know they had comes to collect them, and introduces Lily to manners, magic, and a life that’s just the slightest bit different from the life she was supposed to live.

Or, an AU in which Minerva McGonagall raises Lily.

Before the Fawn (there’s a new version currently being published by the author!)

Before Harry, before Godric’s Hollow, before the Dark Lord was defied three times… Lily Evans and James Potter discovered that neither of them were what the other had expected, and embarked on a relationship that would change the world as they knew it.

Pas De Deux

James leaned against the cold door and stared at Lily in curiosity as she made her way back to the shop counter. She was like nothing he’d ever come across in Levinstown. James knew he’d come searching for a Christmas gift for his mother, but he felt like he’d gotten a gift of his own just by meeting Lily. (muggle christmas AU)

A Proper Shot

It was called the Reginald Borage Grant for Innovative Brewing and Potionmaking, and Lily knew from the very start that she had absolutely no chance of winning it. LJOneShot.

Scenes from a Hogsmeade Pub

The Three Broomsticks is the setting for five significant scenes in Lily and James’s relationship.

Potions, Prongs, and Predestination

The direction of a life can be changed by the simplest things.

Every Other Midnight

Professor Potter and Head Girl Lily Evans… The Dark Decline

Fighting Fate

It may have taken him a while to get to this point, but James Potter is happy with his life; as the captain of the pirate ship Fawkes, no-one tells him what to do or where to go. But when he agrees to carry a passenger - for a fee, of course - his life takes a rather interesting and wholly unexpected turn, and the past may be about to catch up with him. Jily AU, cover art by Viria.

These authors are great! (some of their fics are rec’d above) @petalstofish; @elanev91; @scaredofrobots; @chierafied; @fightfortherightsofhouseelves; @mardy-bummm; @julxr4; @hiddenpolkadots; @bcdaily; @ghostofbambifanfiction; @wearingaberetinparis; @diva-gonzo; @ladyknightley; @a-collection-of-nonsense and I know there are more. Check my tags too…

(also, self plug, my writing is in this tag)

#blarg asks #jily fic rec #hinny fic rec #harry x ginny #james x lily #blarg fic rec

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jinkisbelly · 6 years ago

Text

Wildest Dreams - 1/?

The poll I had was tied when it came to the question about what I should do with Wildest dreams, so I decided to flesh it out and post it as chapters, deleting the snippets I’ve posted here already. This is chapter one of that fleshed out fic. AFF link

Pairing: Onkey

Rating: pg-13 for slight violence in the beginning.

w/c: 5.5k or so? I apologize if the read more doesn’t work on mobile

Summary: Prince Kibum of the Kingdom of Joesan is saved by a mysterious, young swordsman who becomes a lot more than just his personal guard.

Jinki maneuvered through the village hypervigilant. One of his hands were around the hilt of his sword, and the other on the bag of money in his pocket. His mother had given him everything she had and he wasn’t about to let some petty thief rob him of his mother’s sacrifice. His stomach grumbled with hunger. He had been given a small meal while traveling with the caravan from the faraway port. They had been nice enough to travel with him and protect him on the long journey for a small sum of money.

The vast number of round ears came across as odd and it left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. There was a thick scarf tied around his ears to hide their point. There was no guarantee this new land was elven friendly, so until he was sure he would hide that part of his heritage as best he could. There was a fruit stand a little ways ahead of him to the left. It took him a minute to figure out the man didn’t understand his native tongue at all and he switched to pointing at the stack of mangos and bringing out two gold pieces. He noticed the man’s eyes widened and the money was gladly taken. Jinki smiled and bowed his head as he looked for a way out of the mass of people.

He walked through two buildings with a cobblestone path and a moment later the stone turned to soft grass. There was a river rounding the huge city and a number of giant trees along the banks. He sighed as he leaned against a thick trunk and used the edge of his dagger in his boot to cut open the mango. He cut a small piece and stabbed it with the tip to bring it up to his lips. He was just starting to enjoy his fruit when a loud commotion caught his attention. It didn’t take him long to find the source of it. Against one of the buildings was a group of men and in the middle was a boy not too much older than himself by the looks of it. There were three men on the ground and Jinki quickly assessed those were the boy’s guards. He looked at the mango in his hand and frowned. “I’ll miss you.” He mumbled in his native tongue before he laid it on his bag and grabbed his sword.

He quietly chanted, “Ahwu A lo.” and his sword’s blade flashed for a moment. He met eyes with the boy as he ran towards him, but Jinki put his finger to his lips to tell him to be quiet. A moment later his sword was slicing through the man on the boy’s far right. The other two men acted quickly, tossing the boy to the ground to focus on their attacker. Jinki dodged the thrust of one of the men’s daggers and hit him hard on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. The other man stumbled before trying to run away. Jinki grabbed the fallen man’s dagger and launched it until it was lodged in the man’s back and he fumbled forward before stilling.

Jinki glanced at the boy, but his eyes were fluttering closed. He sighed, as he laid his sword against the building and hooked both arms under the boy’s to drag him over by the tree. Once his head was propped up on his bedroll Jinki returned for his sword and any loot he could get from the men who attacked the boy. The previously fallen men had a crest on their chest pieces, and by the craftsmanship of the armor, Jinki could tell they were from a well-paid blacksmith. Whoever the boy was, he was very important from the looks of things. A few pieces of gold were found on the attackers and a cool necklace was taken from another. He then returned back to his tree to finish his mango and run a cool cloth over the boy’s forehead.

After a while, the boy began to shift. Jinki glanced over from cleaning his sword of the blood. The language the boy was mumbling was foreign to Jinki. It was then he heard the horses and men approaching. When he looked up there were a dozen or so guards all with the same crest as the fallen ones. Words in a language unknown were yelled and before Jinki knew it he was being pulled roughly from against the tree. He was turned around, face pressed against the trunk of the tree as his hands were tied. Panic gripped him as his things were taken and he was tugged toward a horse. “I didn’t harm him I saved him! You have to believe me.”

The guards around him looked puzzled and he realized none of them knew what he was saying. He swallowed thickly and let them do what they wanted. He could make it out of this, but he didn’t want to make the situation worse than it was.

-----

When Kibum woke up he was in his bed back in the castle, his right arm was in a sling and his head hurt like something terrible. He squinted around the room and found his sister across the way. She turned with a big smile, rushing to his bedside. “Ah, there you are. We were beginning to worry it was worse than previously thought.”

“What.. happened?”

“You and your guards were attacked on your trip to the market.” She softly explained as she ran a soft cloth over the cut on his forehead. “The man who did this is in custody.”

“That’s good you got them.”

“Them?”

“There were three of them.”

She looked confused for a moment. “There’s only one down in the dungeons. A young man that was found near your unconscious body… He spoke some weird language when they dragged him in. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

It dawned on Kibum quickly who the man in their dungeons was, and that he deserved a lot more than a spot in their dungeon for a crime he didn’t commit. He pushed up off the bed. “I have to see him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She tried to push him back down, but Kibum pushed through her hands. “Kibum! You’re not well.”

“The man you have in our dungeons wasn’t the one who attacked me...He saved me.” Kibum grabbed his robe from the hook and hissed as he slipped one arm through and managed to tie it around his body. “I have to thank him.”

He rushed out of the room ignoring his sister’s calls. He waved off guards who hurried to follow him as he took the hallway over to the other wing of the castle, down the huge amount of stairs to the courtyard and down the giant, ancient stone steps to the dungeons. The two guards on duty stood at attention at the sight of their Prince. “Your Highness, shouldn’t you be in bed resting?”

“Take me to the prisoner charged with attacking me.”

“Your Highness?” The other asked unsurely.

“I wish to be taken to the man you’ve charged with harming me.” Kibum glared at them both. Both caved at the 14-year-old’s orders. He was led into the torch lit dungeons and to the left, far away from the rest of the mostly empty cells to the lone one as far away from the door as possible. Once he was standing in front of him he turned to the two guards, “Leave me.”

“We cannot do that, Your Highness.”

“Either leave me or you’ll both be unemployed.” When both guards turned to return to their post, Kibum smirked, “That’s what I thought.”

The man in the cell was looking at him with calculating eyes. His hair was hanging messily around his head, a scarf was around his ears and forehead, keeping some from his face. “Do you not understand my language? Is that why you haven’t told them you saved me?”

The being didn’t react, or answer and Kibum took that as a yes. He was just sitting on the old cot thrown in the cell, back straight, and legs brought up crisscrossed before him. His hands were softly placed on his knees and there was a power around him that gave Kibum pause. For a moment Kibum thought of what to do until he remembered the other languages he had mastered in his language classes over the years. He ran through a few, looking for some type of reaction in the prisoner. It wasn’t until he used the language of the Ki’jash people far across the sea to the north, one of his Kingdom’s major trading partners, did the young man in the cell brighten. “You know the language of the Ki’jash?”

The man’s voice was softer and deeper in tone than Kibum expected. “I know many languages from across The Great Sea.” He cocked his head to the side a little as he asked. “When are your people going to pass judgment for why I’m here?”

Kibum reached into the pocket of his robe to pull out the keys he swiped from the guard on the walk down here. He slid the key into the lock with a smile, “You saved me. I would be dead without you. I won’t let you rot in a cell for a crime you didn’t commit.”

As the door was opened the man’s facial expression stayed blank and he made no inclination of moving. “Won’t your King be angry you let out a murderer?”

“I am Prince Kibum Kim. The King of this land is my father, and I’ll not let him persecute my savior.” He studied the man closely as he processed the words. “Any items you had on you when they took you into custody should be in the room just at the top of the stairs. I can take you there.”

He watched as the man hesitantly stepped from the cot, eyes shifting and following Kibum’s movements as he came closer, “Then... I’m free to go?”

"If you wish.” Kibum stepped away, good hand put into his pocket to keep warm in the chilly air of the dungeons. “Let me offer you a hot meal and a soft bed for the night to start repaying you for what you’ve done for me. Clean clothes, a bath.”

“A bath?” His tummy rumbled loudly. It was obvious he wanted to keep moving, but he really needed to clean up and eat. He never got to finish his mango. “I would appreciate that.”

Kibum beamed, “Follow me then.”

When they arrived at the entry point to the cells the guards rushed forward. “Your Highness, what is the meaning of this?”

“You have kept my savior as a prisoner.” He explained in the authoritative voice his tutors had forced down his throat when he began to speak. “I am paying him for what he risked for me. You can ask my father if it really concerns you.” He turned towards his new guest with a soft smile, “Follow me.”

As they walked up the thick stone steps he asked, “What is your name?”

The man smiled, “You can call me Onyu.”

-------

Various types of food were brought up to Kibum’s rooms. He wasn’t quite sure what Onyu liked to eat, so he had sent for as many options as he could. He watched Onyu eat across from him, noticing his obvious etiquette. “What brings you to the Kingdom of Joesan?”

Onyu lifts his head from the piece of mango he just got onto his silver fork, “The caravan I paid to leave the last city, brought me here. I had no intention of staying longer than it took to eat my mango but-��

“I complicated things, however.” Kibum had learned quickly the boy wasn’t much older than he was, almost two years. He flashed a small smile at Onyu, “I apologize for that again.”

“Why did those men attack you?” He continued to eat after, moving onto the muffins that were on the circular tray just to his left.

“My father just enacted another tax. They were... Displeased, to say the least.”

“Only cowards attack a child for the actions of their parents.” Something told Kibum those words held more depth than the present context to the boy.

He did agree, however, and he hummed, biting into the apple he was holding with his good arm. “After you’re finished here at the castle.. Where do you plan to go?”

Onyu shrugged, laying his knife against his plate carefully. “I have no specific destination. I’m just trying to get as far away from my starting place as I can.”

With a raised eyebrow Kibum ventured to ask, “Are you running from the law?”

With a grimace, Onyu replied, “In a way, yes, but I promise you it wasn’t for anything of my own doing.”

“The laws of other Kingdoms don’t pertain much, if at all, here. You’re safe if you decide to stay.”

“Do I have a reason to stay?”

“Well,” Kibum nervously picked at the tablecloth of the small table. “You must have some skill with that sword of yours if you took down the attackers my specially trained group of guards could not. If you wish, you could take their place. As my guard that is.”

“You just finished asking me if I was a fugitive, and now you’re offering me to be your personal guard?” Onyu was smiling softly, just a slight upturn of the corners of his lips. “Do you often offer employment to people you recently broke out of jail?”

“No, I do not I admit.” Kibum laughed quietly. He sat forward in his chair as he explained himself more. “You’ll have accommodations here in the castle of course, and food a few times a day provided, including a reasonable spendid for your personal endeavors.”

“I,” Onyu’s gaze fell to the centerpiece of the table, bottom lip pulled through his teeth as he grew silent. He breathed heavily through his nose a few times before he continued. “May I think over your offer during my bath?”

“Of course.” Kibum cleared his throat, pushing from the table to gesture to the connected room. “It’s just through there. I’ve had clothes prepared for you to change into after. Just close the door to give yourself more privacy whenever you’re ready.”

As he pushed away from the table Onyu bowed his head, and mumbled his thanks, before disappearing through the door. His sword was still around his waist. What a curious being. Kibum wondered then what his father was going to say to all this. Then again, he couldn’t make himself care.

----

As the door closed behind him Jinki looked around the room. Back home they had a room meant to freshen up in, but for the most part, hygiene was taken care of in the nearby stream. The room was well lit by the tall windows along the far wall. In the middle of the room was a tiled indentation, which he presumed was the bath. He figured out to make the water fill and once the temperature was satisfactory, he worked on getting undressed. Out of habit he folded his dirty clothes and stacked them in a neat pile, laying his belt and sword on the top. The smooth floor was almost cold against his bare feet as he padded over to the edge of the bath. He was a few steps into the steaming water when he remembered the band around his ears. He stared at the closed door for a long while, debating if the Prince would really give him privacy. The illusion was a complicated spell to be done and held correctly and Jinki knew he couldn’t form one to mask his ears if he were to be caught without the cloth. He decided in the end that if he really needed to, he’d cover his ears with his hair, pulling the cloth off and sighing deeply being able to wiggle his ears a little. Free.

He felt slightly guilty keeping his real name and heritage from the other boy, but his mother’s voice echoed in his head, ‘You must hide yourself, not because who you are is bad, but for your own safety.’. As he slipped further into the hot water his eyes fluttered closed and he could see her face. The softness of her gaze, the warmth of her hands as they gripped his own, the desperation of her voice. Slightly harder was picturing his father. The image was foggy almost from all of his travels trying so hard to block out the last way he saw his father. He swallowed thickly before taking a gasp of air and going completely under.

It felt so nice to be clean, really clean. He found a basket near the edge and after smelling each bottle and container, touching the weird liquids that smell of flowers, he decided on one that seemed usable for hair. In his things was a small jar of the oil he usually used after and he wanted to keep that with him as long as possible. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to have access to more. While he wished he could stay in the warmth of the water for much longer he knew the longer he was in it the more restless the boy in the other room would grow and curiosity could lead to the boy finding out more than he bargained for. As he finished cleaning himself he thought about the proposition.

Sitting on the edge of the bath, twisting the given towel around his hair to dry it, positives of staying were running through his head. He’d have cheap living accommodations and food, and he was sure here was as good as any to hide from the people his mother sent him away to protect him from. The negatives were that he wasn’t as far as he could be, he wasn’t quite sure if he had the ability to protect the boy completely, and there’d be a lot of explaining to do eventually. He couldn’t be going by Onyu forever if he stayed and he’d rather like to not have to hide his elven heritage for very long either. Wearing the cover was practical, and he understood why his mother had tied it around his ears before he left, but it was stuffy and uncomfortable. He didn’t like hiding who he was and pretending to be something he was not. How could he agree to live here without really knowing how the round ears felt about Elves?

He was fighting with the pants provided for him and was pleasantly surprised by how soft the fabric was. He pressed his lips together as he stared at his reflection. The scars along his right jaw and cheek, and slightly down his neck, reminded him of their origin. With a deep breath, they began to disappear, the illusion of clear, smooth skin coming to be once again. While his cloth for around his ears was dirty he used the bath water to clean it, twisting it to let the water out. It was still damp and a little stained, but it was cleaner than before. He braided his hair and tied it before focusing on getting the cloth around his ears just right to hide the tips. Once he deemed himself ready he scooped up his dirty clothes and headed out of the bathroom.

Kibum was sitting in the alcove just past the table Jinki had left him in, holding a book in his lap with his palm. His gaze lifted when the door had opened and the smile upon his face seemed sincere. “How was it?”

Out of instinct, he answered in his native tongue but quickly corrected himself. “It was pleasant, thank you. I’ve never felt such soft fabric.”

“Well, they’re yours to keep.” Kibum scrunched his nose as he stepped closer and focused on the old clothes in his arms. “I can have those cleaned for you.”

Jinki gazed at them for a long moment before nodding. “Thank you.”

“Set them there by the door and I’ll have a servant fetch them.” Hesitantly Jinki did as he was ordered before staring at Kibum as the boy spoke. “Have you got an answer to my offer, Onyu?”

“I have.” He knew his parents would be yelling at him to keep moving, but something was telling him to stay here. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he could sense this place was important for some part of his destiny. “I’d like to take your offer of employment under one condition.”

“Oh?” Kibum’s eyebrow lifted curiously.

“That you teach me your language.”

Kibum grinned. “I think I can do that. Welcome to your new home, Onyu.”

Jinki gritted his teeth before bowing his head, nervous. “It’s actually Jinki.”

“What?”

“My name.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before finding Kibum’s questioning gaze. “It’s Jinki.”

“Why did you lie?”

“I am running from my past and I wasn’t sure if it was safe here to be myself.” He quietly explained. “But being that I am to stay and be around you more, I figured.. You needed the truth.”

“Alright.. Jinki.” Kibum gave a small smile before growing serious. “I’m not sure how familiar you are with monarchs and the appropriate way to address them. While I am quite comfortable with you calling me Kibum when alone, I do require you to refer to me as Your Highness in the presence of others.”

Jinki blinked, trying the words off his tongue through his thoughts before he scowled. “Your.. Highness?”

“Yes Jinki?”

“Can I add another condition to our agreement?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Teach me your culture.” Jinki hopefully stated. “Manners, etiquette. If I am to make here home I cannot live off the traditions of my people.”

The prince was soft in presence as he nodded, eyes slightly closed. “I will try my best, Jinki.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Kibum grinned. “You’re quick.”

Jinki sure hoped so.

-----

Telling his father of the recent developments went about as well as Kibum had expected. He waited patiently as his father berated him about how dangerous and stupid it was releasing Jinki without knowing the full story, how he couldn’t just bring anyone into his service, and that before Jinki could become his guard he had to be tested. He was translating the last part to Jinki when his father’s eyes narrowed. “Can he not speak our language Kibum?”

“Not yet Father.”

“How do you speak to him then?” Eyes flicking between the two of them.

“He speaks the language of the Ki’jash people. It’s one we both can speak Father.” Kibum remained as stoic as he could. “We’ve already begun in teaching him ours.”

“Well then.” The King scratched his beard, studying the boy standing near his son. He knew he should thank him for saving his son, but there was something about him that gave him pause. “I need you to explain to him that to be your guard he must demonstrate his skills to the Master of Arms.”

“Yes Father. Anything else?”

“No. You’re dismissed.”

When Kibum turned toward Jinki, the boy was looking at him expectantly. He flashed him a small reassuring smile before nodding with his head to represent it was time to leave. As they stepped through the office doors he quietly stated, “I know you must be confused, but we had to leave the premises when he dismissed us.”

“Is that.. Customary?”

“Yes.” Kibum managed to quietly laugh, Jinki’s almost childlike innocence amusing. “He has ordered that you take a test of skills against the Master of Arms to be able to be my guard.”

“Test of skills, Your Highness?”

“Oh please don’t fret too much Jinki.” They slipped through two columns into an empty hallway. Jinki recognized it briefly to the one leading to Kibum’s rooms. “You will have to spar with the man that is the Master of Arms of our castle. If you hold up well enough against him, you’ll pass easily. After which you’ll be able to discuss with the tailors and the blacksmiths about what you wish your uniform to be.”

“My uniform, Your Highness?”

“We can’t have you wearing simple clothes,” Kibum stated as if a well-known fact. “The only requirement is that our family crest is somewhere visible on you. Otherwise, it’s up to you. I’m pursuing you wish to keep your sword?”

“Very much so.” As if worried someone would rush by and take it from him Jinki’s hand had drifted to the hilt at his waist.

“Come. It’s almost tea time. I’m quite famished.”

"Yes, Your Highness.” The words were foreign on his tongue still. He hadn’t ever needed to say them in his native tongue and he wasn’t sure if he’d learn to say them easily in any language.

----

The Master of Arms was a big burly man, easily six and a half feet tall, and enough hair on his arms to get mistaken for a bear. He had a scruffy beard and dark skin, but his eyes were almost piercing as his attention fell on Jinki standing before him. “You expect me to give the test to him, Your Majesty? He’s just a child.”

“A child that seemingly fought off multiple attackers to save the Prince single-handedly.” The King rubbed his chin, studying Jinki intently before sighing as if bored. “My son seems to have some type of attachment to him. Please proceed with the test.”

Jinki leaned his head closer to where Kibum was leaning against the smooth stone of the castle steps, the led back into the gardens, lands used for military training and for parties. “What are they talking about?”

“Sir Hyungi is concerned with administering the test to you because of your age.”

“My age?”

“He thinks he’ll be fighting a child and I’m certain he feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like you don’t stand a chance.” Kibum explained quietly. When Hyungi walked into the middle of the large landing between the two sets of stairs, he gestured with his hand, smiling. “He’s ready for you.”

Jinki grinned as he stepped away, softly calling out, “Wish me luck, Your Highness.”

“Good luck indeed, Jinki.” He mumbled in his native tongue, eyes focused as Hyunji pulled his sword out. Jinki followed suit, following the feel of the room. Kibum had learned even with the language barrier the boy was exceptionally good at feeling the room out. Jinki’s black blade glinted in the bright morning sun as he gripped it with both of his hands. Hyunji nodded his head signaling the start of the test just as he stepped forward. Jinki didn’t move, just waiting, but then Kibum noticed his grip was changing. He couldn’t quite place how the different placements of his fingers would change in his swordplay. It wasn’t until Hyunji pushed on the offense, swinging his sword swiftly, did Kibum realize what the different hold was for. Jinki sidestepped the advance, sword twirling to block the attack easily. He glanced at his father, and he smiled when he saw the slight shock on his features.

The two continued their duel and as time crept by Kibum realized Jinki had yet to slide out of defense. Then Kibum’s eyebrows shot up as he muttered. “He’s making him tired.”

And sure enough, Hyunji’s huge size was proving as a weakness the longer the test went. His movements were almost slurred as if he was stepping through molasses. It was then Jinki’s feet shifted and he pressed on. He moved his sword like an extension of his arm, moving the weapon with ease and skilled precision. It was obvious he was well acquainted with the dark blade. Then as Hyunji stumbled, Jinki pressing far too quickly for him to keep up with, he was disarmed with a quick flick of Jinki’s wrist. His broadsword clanged as it skidded down the steps before coming to a halt on the lower landing. Jinki lowered his sword from where it was held an inch from Hyunji’s throat, sliding it into it’s scabbard and bowing his head. He looked toward Kibum, eyes wide and expectant.

Kibum was beaming from ear to ear. He had never seen anyone disarm Hyunji in all his ears watching over him training others. From the stunned looks on Hyunji and his Father’s faces he knew they hadn’t either. He stepped forward before pausing when his Father stood. Jinki automatically lowered his gaze, as he was taught, and it made Kibum smile a little. He was a quick learner. “Son, Come here.”

“Yes, Father?”

“Translate for me.” Jinki’s eyes flicked from the King to Kibum quickly. As his Father spoke Kibum relayed easily. It wasn’t until his Father and Hyunji turned to leave that Jinki spoke.

“I did well, correct?”

He was so soft around the edges and looking up at him with a sort of innocence, and it felt completely at odds with the mastery and skill Kibum had just witnessed moments before. “You did so well. Not only have you passed, but my Father seems to believe you can handle being my only guard around the grounds.”

“Only?”

Kibum grinned. “I hope that’s quite alright with you.”

Jinki gave a small smile. “I never worked well with others anyway.”

“Good.” He hummed quietly. “We have some time before lunch if you wish to go get fitted in your uniform.”

As they walked Jinki softly asked, “Can it be all black?”

“That can be arranged, however,” Kibum looked at him from the corner of his eye. “May I ask why you wish as such?”

“Oh, ah,” Jinki cleared his throat, fingers almost nervously tapping the hilt of his sword on his hip. “It’d resemble my Father’s personal armor.”

Kibum understood completely. “The blacksmith is just this way.”

-----

Jinki was shown his room by a nice servant girl. It wasn’t extravagant. There was a decent sized bed in the middle of the room, a set of dresser drawers, a water basin, and a mirror. There was a small window up near the ceiling above the bed and the cold wood of the floor was covered with a somewhat large rug that came out from under the bed. It was spacious enough, and though only having the bare necessities, Jinki didn’t have much to begin with. He looked at his dirty and almost tattered bags in his hands before laying them on the dresser. He pulled out the drawing of his parents that had been folded and pressed between two pieces of bark to protect it from ripping during his travels. Running his finger over it the paper felt worn. It was commissioned shortly after his birth, him as a babe held safely in his mother’s arms. He’d need to buy a frame when he got the leave day.

Further down was the wooden pendant his father had pressed into his hands as he said the last few words he’d ever say. The engraving was ‘Protection’ in their language. He rolled it between his fingers, staring at the way the black paint glinted in the light and the bit of dried blood he hadn’t been able to get from the grooves, debating if he should wear it or keep it in his rooms. With a sigh he lifted it over his head, straightening it on his chest. His uniform wouldn’t be ready until at least tomorrow morning and his armor even longer. His uniform was largely up to him and he had never enjoyed bulky steel. Per Castle regulations, however, he had to have a set of battle armor for protection duty during parades, public outings and if the circumstances required, war.

He had chosen a simple thick, black fabric. The family crest would be sewn into the garment on his left breast. He had also chosen a leather and metal corset. It wouldn’t be as tight as he had seen women wear, but it would serve as added protection to his vital organs in his abdomen. He had almost wanted to keep his boots, but the sole was so worn down there was a hole beginning to form. The new ones being made for him were going to be up to his knee, absent of any excess of buckles or embellishments. He wanted simple. Simple allowed him to feel as if he was blending into the background.

He grabbed an apple he had picked up from the table in Kibum’s rooms when he left that morning and foregone unpacking the rest of his things. Most of it was old clothes he no longer needed, but among the dirty cloth were family heirlooms his mother gave to him in hopes they wouldn’t be destroyed or lost. He sure hoped the tailor would be done with his clothes the following morning. When he did, that meant that he could begin his duties as Kibum’s guard. Having a purpose would help alleviate his wandering thoughts.

----

#onkey #jinkibum #onew #key #shinee #kibum #jinki #wildest dreams au #this is going to be a monster because this is just two out of ... 59 plot bubbles on my plan #:D i love to make huge fics don't I #their first kiss scene is 2k by itself -_-#I hope you enjoy the slow burn #oh they're 14 and 16 in this

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