#no shade on this ship at all but i also did a double take years ago- shoot one of my friends was/is into that ship to this day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lexdrabbles · 2 years ago

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Thought You Should Know

Hi! Happy New Year! I promise I didn’t abandon this fic, life just got REALLY in the way. Alternatively: Yes There Is A Third Chapter To This Fic. Remember how I said it’s built around a dream? No? Well, it is. Here you go. Please enjoy: Son Boy Comfort Ultimate.

Word count: 3,684 (Chapter 3)

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Ship: Love Square (Mainly Adrinette)

Warnings: None

Read on AO3

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

Chapter 3: A Consideration of Everything that is Right and Wrong in The World

Chat Noir’s first akuma after making the discovery was… well. To say it was harsh would be an understatement.

It was the end of the day, but they had still been at school. Adrien would not have known what to do with himself if he had been home. He felt like a bit of a delinquent: Nino, Alya and Marinette had talked him into skipping fencing to go to the cinema with them and watch the first showing of a movie Nino had been raving about for months. He got Kagami to cover for him and everything had been going to plan until that point, but then again why should he ever get to have nice things? He was pretty sure that was not allowed.

As soon as the first ball of slime splashed and stuck to the courtyard floor, the group exchanged looks and a quick “meet back at the theater” before running to hide separately. Nino bolted upstairs to the classrooms, Alya and Marinette ran into a bathroom; he quickly ducked into a broom closet and transformed, ready to get the whole thing over with as soon as he could. He was trying really, really hard not to think.

The akuma’s… suit? Whatever they were wearing— it was really ugly. It looked like a crafts store had thrown up on them: they were covered in the same indescribable-colored slime (purple? Orange? Blue? Brown? All of the above?) their projectiles seemed to be made of, embedded with every imaginable shade of little balls and beads and glitter, and what looked like random bits of plastic. They also had a pair of huge, chunky, bright hot pink headphones. They had leaped into the middle of the courtyard almost right as Chat Noir emerged from his hiding spot, and their voice was a loud, grating whisper.

“Come on out, children! Don’t you want to look at all the pretty slime mixing together?”

“Has anyone ever told you you have a terrible fashion sense?” He clocked the figure in the back with his baton and sent them flying off like a weird, lumpy baseball straight into the locker rooms, leaving a thin strand of purple-green goo stuck to the end that made contact.

They kicked out the double doors and exited looking even more scrambled than before, the slime over their body shifting and writhing.

“It’s not about fashion, street cat, it’s about the feeling!" They shot a ball of slime out of their extended palm and Chat jumped out of the way just a fraction of a second too late; it caught on his right hand and dragged him back fully before sticking (hand included) to the wall behind him with a gross squelch.

“You’d think a fashion designer would have better judgment” he muttered, using all the anger stirring within him to struggle against the sticky, glittery substance (why on earth was it warm? Actually, scratch that. He did not want to know). The villain approached him at a stalking pace, absolutely convinced they had Chat right where they wanted him.

“One down, one to—” A loud creak rang out from behind them and they stopped in their tracks. Chat Noir could not resist looking at the wall across the courtyard and saw Alya peeking out of the bathroom. As his friend’s eyes widened, the villain followed Chat Noir’s line of sight: they turned around just in time to catch the slightest glimpse of her head popping back in before shutting the door again. The akumatized pile of slime turned back to him and contorted its face in what could only be described as a smooshed smirk.

“Be right back, kitty cat”. They seemed to eye him up and down before taking off in the opposite direction, running toward the bathroom door with slime projectiles at the ready.

The bathroom where Marinette was hiding.

“You kids should subscribe to The Whisperer!”

… And Alya— where Marinette and Alya were hiding. Both of them.

He was barely using his brain when he finally yelled “Cataclysm!” —perhaps louder than he may have wanted to—, immediately dissolving the goo on his right hand into a foul-smelling pile of ash. He saw the Whisperer flinch halfway through the courtyard as the tips of a butterfly-shaped mask lit up at the front of their face —where eyes should have been— and peeked out at the sides of their head. That gave Chat the moment he needed to leap after them and trip them with his extended baton; using it once again like a golf club to swing the slimy form the other way and entirely out of the gates of Collège Françoise Dupont.

He gave the bathroom door a knowing smile and a nod, partly wishing Marinette knew - knew that her help and her kindness and her friendship did not go uncompensated. That he planned on making her feel as safe as he did with her. Him and Ladybug would make sure she was protected.

He stopped in his tracks at the school door, watching as the Whisperer still struggled to get a hold of their slimy form. Where was Ladybug, anyway? As used as he had gotten to villains being dealt with in minutes, with new heroes popping up seemingly out of thin air before he could even get to the team, he had been fighting alone for several minutes now, with no signs of backup to be seen.

Had she found out somehow?

This was no moment to get in his own head, but after the humanoid slime being reformed, every attack got harder and harder to dodge or counter. What if she had? It was ridiculous. It was not as if she could just know (about his horrible, awful, selfish choice to keep quiet) and have decided to leave him to fend for himself. How would she? And even if she somehow had, how would she know it had anything to do with Chat Noir? His mind offered terrible excuses, each one worse than the last, for why the worst-case scenarios were not so far-fetched— Maybe she has known it was me all along, maybe she just hates me that much . The longer she was not there, the more difficult it got for him to keep the Whisperer in check. He had no idea how much time went by, but when he noticed, he had just barely dragged the villain out on the rooftops and was dodging slime projectiles by the skin of his teeth. He had been feeling better, he had started to actually let himself go through this, reassured himself it was only temporary, that he was doing his best with the situation. Where had it gone all of a sudden?

Before he even had time to begin formulating a hurtful answer to his own questions, he felt himself be lightly lifted and whisked up into the air.

He had not let himself realize how much he was looking forward to seeing her until she was zipping him masterfully away from the fight.

Ladybug put him down on solid ground- what looked like the back of a store with enough going on to hide out for a moment. He must have been staring, because her expression went from concentration to worry in a second.

“Are you okay?” She grabbed his right hand and looked at his ring as the second paw pad blinked off (had he missed the first one?).

He quickly tried to fall back on their established dynamic. It was easy, it was familiar, it was what worked . “All good. Thanks for that, my Lady, that one was a whisker away from getting me” except that the pun was as dry as sandpaper in his mouth and sounded all wrong; his least practiced smile felt off and did not reach his eyes, as much as he tried (he had never had to try before. Not for her).

She looked him up and down with concern and clocked a bruised cheek and a still-slime-stained arm. “I am so sorry Chat, I got held up transforming and then I had to track you down, and—”

“Bugaboo” he interrupted, planting both hands on her shoulders (like Marinette had done to him when he had started spiraling). She was there and she was worried, and she was apologizing for some wild, unfathomable reason. “I’m okay. Really”.

It was true that it had been a while since he had to fight one of those things alone. The same little voice in his head that kept pushing for him to actually think instead of just playing video games all day demanded that he take the apology; just this once. He had recently begun teaching himself to listen to it.

Ladybug breathed in and sighed in an attempt to relax into Chat’s reassuring gesture, but their regrouping session was cut short by loud, approaching splats .

“Let’s just do this, okay?” She spoke looking in his direction but did not once look into his eyes. “You and me, like it’s always been.” She smiled and it was one of the saddest he had ever seen on her. He wanted to ask, but knew there was no time.

He held his baton like one would a sword and they settled into a hurried fighting stance. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

The fight was unusually quiet —On the heroes’ side, at least. The Whisperer would not shut up and their voice felt like it was just short of sanding their eardrums down to dust—. They communicated only in short phrases, looks and the occasional hand gesture. You could have cut the tension with a knife, and the living slime’s irritating remarks (“you just need to relax and listen to my voice”, “feeling the tingles yet?”, “maybe some slime will help you calm down!”) did nothing but add insult to injury. Chat was trying so hard to be in sync with Ladybug, to fall into the usual lull of battle, and he could see she was trying, too, but it just did not come. Everything about the fight was off— every move was mechanical; every tactic, strained. When she called her Lucky Charm, he had to keep himself from physically flinching.

They were done with the akuma faster than expected, but it took everything out of them— The fight was over, and nothing was fine.

The victim (some poor failed YouTuber named Ethan) insisted he could get home by himself and left the heroes alone to part ways. After a fist bump that felt as routine and hollow as everything else in the past few minutes, Chat extended his baton and began to turn around to leave before feeling a hand wrap around his wrist.

“Wait. Can we talk for a bit?” Ladybug looked up at him, and he was reminded why he could never say no to those wide, honest blue eyes. Even if she looked worried and he did not think going there was a good idea.

She pulled both of them into an empty backstreet between two nearby buildings, secluded enough that it guaranteed privacy. And she asked the question he had been fearing that entire time.

“What’s wrong?”

He could not even bring himself to say it was nothing. He just looked at the ground and fiddled with the tail end of his belt. He knew he had to say something, anything, to explain himself and his pathetic performance, but his throat stayed locked shut as he did his best to fight back the incipient prickling at the back of his eyes.

“That bad?” Her voice was not mocking or admonishing as he had expected. It was soft. There was something there that knew, on some level, what he was going through. She took a step closer to him and he tried to look up at her, but got no further than her shoulders; the tips of her pigtails messily falling over them.

“We could recharge and talk about it, if you want.” He watched as she raised a hand and placed it, gently, over his shoulder. He wanted to step back, to keep her at a distance, but he could not react fast enough, and it was too late.

He melted right then and there.

“I’m sorry, Ladybug, I am so sorry!” All his defenses broke and tears flowed down his face all at once, like they had been accumulating behind a dam.

“Chat, you don’t—”

“I failed you, I basically lied to you! I can’t even— I—” He could not have stopped himself from letting everything out for her to see if he had wanted to (he did not, and perhaps that was the worst part of it all).

The tears stung at his eyes and nose, and he felt her hands on his shoulders, grabbing at him desperately. “What do you mean? Chat? Are you okay? Chat, your miraculous, it’s—!”

He could not pay attention to a word she was saying as his legs gave out under him and he fell on the rough cement ground, barely registering the fuzz of magic washing over his body, leaving him exposed to her sight. He squeezed his eyes shut and wiped them furiously with his hands, maybe even trying, on some level, to conceal his face. He looked at the ground, the tears giving way to a wave of dry, exhausted anger.

“I could have ended this days ago. I— I should have done it,” he sobbed, “and I didn’t.”

Ladybug made no sound as she continued to tower over him, feet frozen as if nailed to the floor.

Adrien rubbed at his eyes again and made sure they could stay open. They did not sting anymore; instead, they just felt heavy. He used all the strength he had left in him to look up at her, to look directly into her eyes.

“I know who he is, Ladybug. I found out Shadow Moth’s identity.”

In her expression, he could see nothing but deep pain. He could not hold her gaze.

He did not know why she remained quiet. She did not yell at him, she did not leave. She stayed as he laid kneeling on the ground, looking at the gray cement under his knees, and spoke. He told her his story. He fidgeted with the ring on his right hand as he talked about the study, and the glint of the peacock miraculous and the book and how it had made his chest hurt. He began crying when he recounted how big of an idiot he had been the first time his father became the Collector. He had been so close, they had been so close, and if he had just used his brain instead of letting his affection-starved little dumbass heart fool him into thinking that maybe his father actually loved him, maybe, just maybe… he could have… he…

His throat locked up again and he wanted to tear his hair out, to compress himself into a minuscule marble and be launched onto the surface of the sun. He wanted to melt into the ground and rip the streets of Paris apart and swing his father into the Eiffel tower like a baseball and scream until the farthest reaches of the universe could feel his pain. All he managed was for the tears to burn their way down his cheeks again.

He did not see so much as feel Ladybug throwing herself on the ground in front of him, and through the stinging salt in his eyes he managed to see her.

She was crying, too. Shaking her head and grabbing at his shoulders again.

“Stop it. Adrien, stop that right now. This isn’t— you’re not—”

She cupped his face in her hands and wiped his tears away, even though they kept flowing and flowing out of his eyes. “Just… stop it, okay?” He did not understand why she was crying, why she insisted. He shook his head and tried to remove her hands, but they were so soft, and the tears hurt so much, he ended up holding them instead. He looked at her, concerned, empathetic, painfully kind, and let himself fantasize about a world where he was not so selfish; where he deserved her. She just kept him close. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

And she hugged him. It seemed like something impossible and wrong and like everything that was right with this messed up world they were living in when Ladybug hugged Adrien Agreste and held him tight like he was the most precious thing she had ever laid hands on. He closed his eyes and let himself melt into her arms— and he did not need to feel the electric fuzz of magic or see the soft pink glow of her detransformation behind closed eyelids to recognize her and kick himself for not figuring it out sooner. He held onto her because she still felt like a towering shield around him and like no harm would ever come to him as long as he had her, and she was just as precious to him in that moment as he felt he was for her. He loved her as much as he ever had— maybe even more.

This was it. The safest place on earth. Right here, in Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s arms.

After they separated, silence settled between them. Adrien and Marinette were sitting on the ground of the alleyway cast in half-shadows from the tall buildings on either side; thin beams of sunlight striped the windowless walls that hid them from the rest of the world for the time being. They fed their kwamis, who shared an uncertain glance, and remained looking wordlessly at each other for what felt like hours, but was probably only a minute.

“I’m sorry.” It was Marinette who broke the silence first, at last averting her eyes to the ground.

This startled him more than anything else she could have said.

“About what?” His voice felt coarse after crying for so long. She seemed to think for a moment, as if going through a rolodex of instances to be sorry for in her head.

“I don’t know. About everything. About your dad, about not being able to help you, about not just… telling you?” She gestured to her earrings and to Tikki, who was digging into her second macaron and pretending to not hear them. “Maybe if I had just dealt with it as soon as you told me…”

“You were there for me, Marinette. I am so thankful for that.” Her name was sweet in his mouth, almost drowning out the bitter taste left behind by the past week. “It was all I asked for, and you went above and beyond, like you always do.”

“But you’re still not okay. We don’t know if…” He thought he saw something painful flash in her eyes, but she shook her head and it was gone. “I just wanted to make things okay for you.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make things okay.” It hurt, but it was true. “This is beyond even the best superhero Paris has ever seen.” He gave her a small smile. Seeing her look back up to meet his gaze, he could still barely believe his eyes. One of his closest friends, the one he had always been able to trust and confide in, who gave the best advice and had the most amazing ideas, was the person he loved and admired most in the world. The mix of feelings was a bit overwhelming— His chest and throat still ached from everything; from knowing too much, from not being able to do what was right for the greater good, to fulfill his duty. However, at the same time, he was sure his heart would burst out of the sheer love he felt for Marinette in that moment.

She smiled back at him. “Yeah, but you’ve kinda got a lot going on right now anyway.”

He rolled his eyes playfully at her. “I thought my job was being the clown of the team?”

She chuckled lightly at that. “Well, I always knew you were a versatile guy.” They both laughed and Marinette relaxed visibly, letting go of the strap of her purse she had been fidgeting with. Adrien noticed how much he had also needed this shared moment of levity.

He scooched forward and turned so that he was sitting next to her and leaned his head on hers, feeling her let her cheek rest on his shoulder. He reached out his hand for her to take, and after hesitating for a moment, she did. After a while of tracing over each other’s fingers with their own, it was Adrien who spoke up.

“Your hugs are firm,” he said, “it’s nice.” It was all he could do not to spurt out everything he felt when she was next to him; how safe, calm and at home she made him feel.

She let the sentence hang between them for a moment, as if she was examining it, and squeezed his hand lightly.

“Your hugs are gentle,” she squeezed his hand lightly, “I never want to let go.”

He squeezed her hand right back, brought it up to his lips and kissed it. He felt her cheek heat up through his t-shirt and a smile escaped onto his face.

“So, what now?” Marinette asked. Her voice was uncertain, but there was an unmistakable determination to it.

Adrien pulled back to look at her, but did not let go of her hand. He would never get tired of seeing her like this, fully and vehemently herself.

“I think we’ll have to figure it out together,” he said. “That’s what teams are for, isn’t it?”

She offered him her other hand and it made his heart grow at least thrice its own size.

“It’s you and me against the world, after all,”she said, a small smile painting her face a lovely shade of hope.

He took her hand and held it tight in a half-silent promise. “Just like it always has been, my Lady”.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #ml #ml fanfic #and that’s it!! hope you liked it because i put my whole heart into it<3 #sorry for taking three million years to get it done #promised myself i'd finish this fic before new years and i DID im scream #the akuma was an asmr youtuber whose channel flopped so they became a sticky slime monster with the power to put people to sleep with ✨soot #I’ve always been shit at coming up w akumas but this one made me giggle #no beta we die like fuckin uh. gabe in adrien’s fantasies lmao yeet #fanfic #lex wrote a thing??

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aletherancaspar · 4 years ago

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Balram! UwU 😩🥺

sorry if y’all already know this and i somehow missed it this entire time but, i was researching for my Balram fic and found out he’s about 15 days older than Krishna, and Krishna is about 6 months older than Arjun… this would be nothing remarkable except it means he’s half a year younger than both Duryodhan and Bheem?? and he’s their teacher??? what a world we live in

@hindumythologyevent for day 4, male characters!

#balram #mahabharat #hindumythologyevent #my art #click for higher quality #Balram has all of my UwUs #you might be wondering about his hair. i like to imagine the bun hairstyle is his formal look and loose ponytail his casual one 😩😩😩#i like to imagine people rarely get to see him in his ponytail but more than one of his attendants have passed out from nosebleeds #at the sight of him in that ponytail. it’s a weapon of war basically 😤😤😤#also. talking more about his hair; i like to imagine his hair is ridiculously black. like. it’s outrageous #vantablack hasn’t even been invented yet. wth. (nah it’s not as black as vantablack. that’s a joke 😩😩😩)#in contrast Krishna’s hair is a brown a few shades lighter than his skin. as kids they’d joke that all of his body’s colour went to his hair #LMAOOOOO #u know how Pandu got his name because of how whitey white he was. do u think Balram ever had a nickname derived from the same word #also eyes. nothing special. they’re just black to the point of being almost purple. they’re very pretty #some stuff on Karna x Balram aka my otp because no one would suggest anything else in my post asking 4 unconventional ships 😫#and then god came in my dream and slapped me in the face and told me to ship this. take it up with her not me 🤷‍♀️#btw. did y’all know that Karna is like 18 years older than Balram (& 16 from Yudhish)#except people in that Epoch lived double lifetimes so it basically amounts to 9 years #like. here i thought the age diff was gonna go the opposite way and Balram would be older 😩😩😩 but this actually works better tbh #Balram is higher ranked but Karna is older. the power cancels out. BODMAS #i’ll expand on them more in my actual post about them for ship day. BUT THEY’RE REALLY GOOD TOGETHER #PLS BELIEVE ME. THE ANGST. THE PAIN. THE SEPARATION. THE RESIGNATION. THE LOSS #UNDERRATED BUT IT’S A HIGH QUALITY SHIP

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absolutebl · 3 years ago

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Hey! I really enjoyed reading your analysis on Saint and Nanon’s acting! I’m wondering if you would do one for Gun? He’s a fave of mine ✨

Wow, I got double asks on acting analysis in the space of one hour. So I guess this is part one.

I think I should say at this juncture that I feel like actors can be categorized in a few different ways both by watchers and industry professionals, here’s how I break ‘em down.

Character Actors

Basically this industry shorthand for “probubly not lead material” usually for appearance reasons (this is a superficial world I live in). These actors tend to get best friend, bad guy, and comic relief roles. Gunsmile at GMMTV is one of BLs most well known character actors (see him in 3 Will Be Free vs 2gether, he’s amazing).

Personality or Fixed Actors

Actors who actually do not change all that much between roles often because they are type cast, but also because audiences just really like their natural physicality, style, and verbal execution. The best known of these would be someone like Jack Nicholson or Kaenu Reeves. Don’t hate but I would put Earth (1000 Stars), Ohm (UWMA), and Mew (TharnType) into this category.

Method Actors

Actors who inhabit the roles completely either because they are trained in Method, because they are legacy, or just it’s their psychological technique for portraying someone else. Nanon (Bad Buddy) is method.

Natural Talent

Actors who were discovered, often quite young, and just grew into both the industry and their roles, these are like “discovery” actors, they probubly need more workshopping than method, especially in their first few roles. I would put both Fluke (UWMA) and Saint (LBC,WRU?) into this category.

Technique Actors

Those who have learned how to act one step at a time as if it were a trade. We can see them picking up skills and habits from their costars and they tend to improve from show to show. They are practitioners of Meisner technique (intentional or not). These actors are highly influenced by their costars, setting and environment. Mix (1000 Stars), Zee (WRU?), and Nut (Oxygen & Something in My Room) fall into this category.

GUN'S ACTING

I don't know the truth but my feeling is Gun is self taught. For me he falls into the natural talent category. But he also started very young, so he has that child actor slightly warped feel about him, where ego and value are nested early in appearance and talent.

His problem (if you can call it that) is that he is too pretty. His looks are straight up angelic and so it’s difficult to visually take him seriously in more dark and gritty roles (like The Gifted or Not Me.) He is still good in those roles, but his looks work against him.

He’s a pretty crier, and directors love that, so they make him cry a lot.

He has a tendency to “out act” his costars. No shade but subtlety is not his strong point. I’d like to see him under a director who pulls him back a bit more.

He’s already a hugely charismatic screen presence in that when he shares the screen it’s really hard to look away from him. Off has a lot of work to do, and you can see Off struggle to pull attention in Puppy Honey where Gun dominates most of their scenes. As the two of them have gotten more comfortable with each other over the years, you can see Off relax into their physicality but also into their onscreen dynamic. One of the interesting things to see in Not Me is Off’s complete confidence in sharing the screen with Gun.

That said, I am not at all surprised to see Gun & Mond being shipped because Gun has shown good chemistry with other actors before (yes he did gay not with Off, see Fah Mee Tah. Or don’t because it’s not good, although Gun’s good in it.) While I doubt we’ll see Off ever do BL with anyone else, I can imagine Gun doing other pairings.

Gun might be work to act with because of his charisma, but he’s also clearly fun and professional on set. I think you can see that in his series. It’s part of his appeal. His screen presence might be more etherial than likable, but it’s always clear that the other actors enjoy working with him and that comes across to viewers.

I’d like to see him pick up a role where he has to play a very delicate and fragile character (like Pharm) more broken than he’s done before. The kind of character everyone wants to look out for and care for. He’s also never done a true tsundere (that’s always been Off’s bailiwick) - that’d be fun watch.

(source)

#Gun Atthaphan #thai actors #film industry #acting analysis #not me #Puppy Honey #puppy honey rome #theory of love #offgun

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aerinsfables · 3 years ago

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Never Have I Ever

The Fablehaven gang plays Never Have I Ever. Not really shippy, but will tag for relevant ships.

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“Never have I ever become an albino courtesy of a revenant,” Seth announced. His face expressed glee as Warren and Tanu each lowered one finger in response. He was down to three fingers left, himself, and Kendra thought he seemed determined to remain in the game.

“Well, never have I ever held Vasilis,” Tanu retorted. The smile dropped off of Seth’s face as he lowered one of his remaining fingers with a quiet ‘nooo’, and Kendra laughed a little as she also lowered one of hers.

“Never have I ever broken my leg by jumping off a roof,” Dale said, which prompted Warren to roll his eyes and lower another finger.

“It’s hard to play this game with people you actually know,” Warren protested. “I was nine at the time, yes it was a stupid choice, thank you for reminding me, now let me think for a minute.” He tapped his chin with the side of his hand and seemed to think for a moment. “Never have I ever… had a body double,” he said as he winked at Kendra, who stuck her tongue out at him and lowered one of her fingers. She had the most points left in the group thus far, so she’d been expecting some targeted statements, but still.

“That’s a cheap shot,” she said as she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

He shrugged. “Hey. There’ve been three of you. It’s not my fault that you’re the only one here who’s experienced that.”

“It’s not as fun as you’d think it is,” she replied.

“My turn,” Vanessa said. “Never have I ever spoken with the Fairy Queen.”

Seth let out a loud, “HA!” and gave Vanessa a high five. Warren applauded. Kendra sighed as she placed another finger down. Bracken followed suit as well. “Clever,” he said, sarcasm laced in his tone.

“Always,” Vanessa responded. “It’s your turn, Kendra.”

Well. Two can play at this game, Kendra thought. And, really, she’d meant for her next statement to be a jibe at Warren and Vanessa anyway.

“Never have I ever been engaged to marry anyone,” she said with confidence.

She’d expected the narrowed eyes from Warren and Vanessa as they each lowered a finger. She’d expected Seth’s guffaws and Tanu and Dale’s smiling eyes.

She had not expected for Bracken to lower one of his fingers, too.

Kendra turned her attention to the young man to her immediate left, who cleared his throat in an obvious - and vain - attempt to move the conversation forward, his face a lovely shade of pink. “Excuse me?” she asked, probably sounding about as shocked as she actually was. She wasn’t the only surprised one, though. Seth shouted, “What?!” at the same time that Warren announced it was story time while positively everyone’s eyes turned to Bracken, whose face flushed a darker shade of pink.

Bracken opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsuccessful at producing any words. “I… it was a long time ago, and an accident,” he said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“How do you accidentally get engaged to someone?” Dale asked. One eyebrow was pointed upward, and he appeared to be rethinking his entire opinion of the young man in question.

Kendra, for her part, was speechless. She didn’t know what to think. It was most definitely story time indeed.

“I… there was… it was…” Bracken cleared his throat again and scratched the back of his head, his gaze firmly fixed upon the table in front of him. “I was younger then. Still getting used to human socialization, still wandering between the wilderness and civilization. I’d decided to spend some time closer to towns, was low on human currency, and desired to reside inside an inn for a time. There were people in the street who advertised a sword-fighting competition, which offered a cash reward, so I decided I’d participate.”

Still unsure of what to think, Kendra furrowed her eyebrows. Where was this going?

“I’ve… I’m good with swords. The competition wasn’t particularly difficult to win, although the last human I faced that specific day was quite skilled. I digress. I won the contest, was given a large sum of money in a very nice bag, and was also told at that moment that I’d won the hand of the local princess.”

His face burned red. Kendra didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him upside the head. Maybe both? She refrained from reacting for the moment.

Seth, however, was not so well-controlled. He laughed heartily.

“‘The local princess’? When was this?” Warren asked.

“Shhh, he’s still telling the story,” Tanu said. “I want to hear this. Wish we had some popcorn.”

Bracken looked like he was marching toward his death. “A long, long time ago,” he said, “Somewhere in Ireland. Her name was Aoife MacMurrough.”

“So… did you marry her?” Dale asked.

His eyes grew large. “No!” he nearly shouted. He made eye contact with Kendra, who found it awkward to look at him right at that moment, so she diverted her attention to her hands, which still displayed the five points she’d managed to maintain.

“I tried to tell them that I thought this was a competition solely for money, and that I wasn’t interested in marriage, but the king and his vassals wouldn’t take no for an answer. The rules were apparently clear, although they’d somehow flown over my head. I snuck out of town that night and stayed far away from humans for quite a long time after that. I never found out what happened. Of course, I’d also fled to Greece and other countries and did not return to Ireland for a couple hundred years, but that’s a different story.” He reached toward Kendra and lightly touched her shoulder. “I don’t even know what Princess Aoife looked like.”

“How did you not know that you would wind up promised in marriage to a princess?” Vanessa asked, disbelief and disapproval very much evident in her statement. “Did you not listen to the rules? Did the people announcing the competition not make that clear? How is it possible to enter into a contest like that and not know what you’re fighting for?”

Kendra didn’t entirely appreciate the tone of voice Vanessa used, but she was incredibly grateful that her friend had been able to voice even just some of the questions she had on her own mind.

Bracken narrowed his eyes. “I was new to Gaelic, and it was mostly still a spoken language at that point in time,” he replied. “I still don’t know how I missed that bit of information. I blame my empty stomach and longing for a soft bed to sleep in for the night.”

“He was - he was hangry,” Seth said, then rolled off into laughter again. Warren and Tanu joined in a bit as well, the earlier looking up something on his phone.

“It was a poor decision. I know. Go ahead and laugh,” Bracken stated. He once again reached for Kendra. “I’m sorry,” he said in a quiet voice.

Sorry for what? Why should he be sorry? Should she be upset? Did she have a right to be upset? Was she upset? All of those questions and more buzzed about in Kendra’s brain, but she refrained from voicing any of them.

“Wait. Aoife MacMurrough?” Warren asked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head.

“Yes…?” Bracken responded.

Warren chuckled as he read from his phone. “Red Aoife. Married off by Saint Patrick himself. Warrior princess. That Aoife?”

“I don’t know!” Bracken insisted at the same time that Tanu said, “Saint Patrick, huh?”

“Bracken almost married a leprechaun?!” Seth cried out before yet more raucous laughter escaped from his body.

Dale spoke next, after a brief pause to allow for excess joviality from the company who sat around the table.

“Well. That is an odd circumstance,” he said. “I’ve bailed Warren out of quite a few odd circumstances over the years, but never anything like that. Right, Warren?”

Warren laughed. “Nope.”

“Alright then. I think my next move is to say, never have I ever been accidentally engaged to marry someone,” Dale continued. He innocently blinked at Bracken a few times, who looked dumbfounded and then lowered another finger.

“I’m never going to live this down, am I?” he asked.

Everyone shook their heads while Kendra finally reacted in laughter. The rest of the table followed after her example.

“Are you upset with me?” he asked her.

Kendra let laughter take over her body for a minute, then wiped a tear from one of her eyes. “Upset?” she asked as more giggles escaped from her lips. “Bracken. You are the only person I know who could have done that.” Giggles. Somehow, this didn’t seem out of character for him. The poor, oblivious unicorn.

“What other secrets are you hiding?!” Seth demanded.

Bracken folded his arms across his chest and refused to entertain that particular train of thought. “Nope. One story is enough for tonight,” he said. “Come on. Surely all of you have made poor decisions in your young lives as well.”

“Sure, but I never wound up promising myself to someone else by accident,” Vanessa shot back.

Bracken only rolled his eyes at that comment. “I believe it was my turn, next, before Dale stole it from me,” he said as he leveled Vanessa with a cool glare. “Never have I ever controlled someone in their sleep.”

Vanessa ran out of fingers at that one. “Very funny.”

“Always,” he retorted, copying her tone of voice from earlier on in the evening.

Kendra opened her mouth to interrupt them before they could launch into one of their infamous arguments, but Tanu beat her to the punch.

“Never have I ever been near Zzyzx,” he said.

Everyone else at the table groaned and lowered a finger, except Dale, who simply smiled. Warren ran out of points, Seth only had one left, Bracken had two, Tanu and Dale were each down to three, and Kendra still held onto four.

“Your turn again, Seth,” Tanu said once the damage had been assessed.

“Never have I ever… um…” he looked at his sister. “Never have I ever written letters to a dragon prince.”

Kendra could feel her face grow warm as she lowered a finger. “Warren and Vanessa are out, so it’s my turn,” she announced.

“A dragon prince?” Bracken asked. This time, his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“I knew him as Gavin in his human form,” she said with a sigh. “He was actually Navarog.”

If Bracken’s eyes could have grown larger, Kendra was sure that they would have at that statement. “Excuse me?” he asked, in much the same tone as she’d asked him earlier. “I feel that another story time is in order.”

“Nah, we all know that story already,” Warren announced. “You two talk about that one between yourselves later. It’s Kendra’s turn now.”

“But-“

“Never have I ever drank an enlargement potion,” Kendra interrupted.

Bracken narrowed his gaze at her, but dropped the subject. For the moment.

Tanu lowered one finger. “Ouch, Kendra. I feel like I’ve been singled out.”

“Sorry, Tanu,” she replied with a smile.

Bracken huffed. “Never have I ever been duped by a demon dragon,” he stated.

He was astonished to find that everyone except Dale put their fingers down. Seth ran out of points, Tanu had one left, Kendra was down to three, and Dale and Bracken were still at two.

“All of you?!” he asked.

Dale shrugged his shoulders. “I never met the guy,” he said. “They all went adventuring with him.”

“Except me,” Vanessa elaborated. “I probably would’ve caught on if I had been there, though.”

“Let’s not start this up,” Warren said at the same time that Dale announced, “Never have I ever been in prison.”

Just like that, Tanu was out of points, Kendra had two, and Bracken had only one left.

“Never have I ever been trapped in a barn,” Kendra said. Dale laughed and lowered a finger. One left.

“Never have I ever had coffee,” Bracken said.

“Really?” Dale asked as he ran out of points. “Never?”

“Not once,” Bracken replied.

“How-?”

“You were in prison when coffee as a drink was invented, weren’t you?” Kendra laughed.

Bracken’s ears turned pink. “Maybe,” he admitted.

“You’re getting a cup in the morning,” Dale vowed. “I’ll make it for you.”

“Thanks…?” Bracken asked, sounding unsure whether or not he even cared. He turned toward Kendra, who still had two points left. “No coffee for you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t like the smell.”

“Who doesn’t like the smell of coffee?” Dale asked, sounding utterly flabbergasted.

“Kendra,” Seth, Warren, Tanu and Vanessa all replied in unison.

Dale stared straight at Kendra, who laughed when he whispered with so much melodrama that he could only be Warren’s brother, “But. You were my favorite.”

“Hey!” Warren protested. “I’m your favorite!”

“Well, you might be now,” Dale said. His gaze turned back toward Kendra. “How can you not like coffee? Coffee is life.”

“I… I didn’t realize you liked it so much,” Kendra replied.

“The way into Dale’s heart is a healthy serving of coffee every morning,” Vanessa said.

“She makes the best coffee ever,” Dale confirmed. “No other woman will ever take her place.”

Kendra wasn’t sure what was happening. This game was getting ridiculous. Whose turn was it, anyway? She recounted the latest movies and realized that this game was down to just her and Bracken, he only had one point, and it was her turn.

She smirked. “Bracken,” she began.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Never have I ever won a sword-fighting competition,” she announced.

Bracken lowered his pinky, while Kendra waved her two remaining fingers in his face. “I win!” she taunted.

“That’s not fair,” he playfully complained.

“Totally fair,” Warren insisted.

“I lost three points from one story!” he exclaimed.

Seth shrugged. “It be like that sometimes.”

“Kendra survives the night,” Tanu stated. “Now we all know who to target in the next round.”

Vanessa raised her eyebrows in a somewhat threatening manner which made Kendra wonder what other embarrassing material was going to be paraded about that evening. She looked around to find similar expressions on most everyone else’s faces, too, and laughed when she realized that she would be running out of points very quickly. “No repeats from this round,” she said.

“That’s fine with me,” Tanu said. Everyone else nodded and voiced their agreement.

“Great! I’ll go first!” Seth announced. “Never have I ever run away from a fiancée!”

Bracken planted his face into the palm of his hand while everyone at the table enjoyed a solid laugh.

#fablehaven #aerinm writes #warrenessa #brackendra #again this isn't really shippy so don't come at me with protests about how it's not fluffy enough lol #have some nonsense #it's been a while hahahaha

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe Baby Retreat

➜ Words: 12.7k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut

➜ Summary: In an attempt to conceive, Taehyung discovers a five day retreat dedicated to help with the impregnation process but you're fairly certain that the entire thing is a scam.

[Day One] Taehyung should be fucking you. It’s a bit crass to be grumbling that he’s not sticking his sperm in you, but your fertile window begins today and if he really wants a kid as much as he says he does, you wouldn’t be on a godforsaken bus. The yellow school bus jumps and jolts as it goes down the jagged, unpaved road. Every bump is felt in the back by ten folds as you’re rocked from side to side on the seat and not on your husband’s dick. Said man is too busy singing along with the guide that’s living it up with a mic in hand and his voice on the intercom. He’s trying to bring up the morale, but you’re not having it. Instead, you turn to the window and stare out at the empty countryside that stretches across the horizon. There’s not a car in sight and if you swear to god if you’re being shipped to a serial killer’s farmhouse, you’re dragging Taehyung down to hell with you. “You’re frowning, sweetheart,” he says while leaning over to you, flashing a blazing grin much to your chagrin. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.” “It’s not like it matters. There is no baby.” “Not yet.” Taehyung throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you scoff. You’re aware being a Debbie Downer isn’t going to help anyone but it’s hard to loosen up when you’re so on guard and skeptical about this whole thing. When you’re surrounded by noisy strangers who are all too overfamiliar. You suppose it was your fault to begin with. All those nights of staying up to read about tricks and tips of conceiving led Taehyung to discover the Baby Retreat. A five day sanctuary that ensures people will be able to conceive. The moment you saw it, you were certain that the whole thing was a scam, but your sweet summer child husband was wholly convinced and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change his mind. “Who knows, it might actually work, right?! And if it doesn’t, then it looks fun anyway! When was the last time we had a vacation together?” It’s also your fault for being so soft. You couldn’t shut Taehyung down when he was so enthusiastic, so here you are. You took off a week off work and on your fertile day, you’re shipped onto a school bus out into the middle of nowhere. “Oh! Looks like we’re here, folks!” The vehicle slows as it turns into the gravel parking lot and the guide smiles as he peers out the windshield. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope you leave with a few buns in the oven! And if not, then don’t worry, you can still eat for two here!” There’s a few snickers and once the bus parks, everyone gets up, slowly shuffling out and stretching their legs. The air is sweltering hot and the sun beams down onto the back of your neck, making it uncomfortable to breathe. You’re panting with sweat built on your hairline as you drag your luggage through the grass. But no one seems bothered by it. Maybe because they’re excited that they’re here, they have the energy to fill the field with their chatter. Even Taehyung is grinning and he’s a certified whiner when it comes to hot weather. The guy blasts the air conditioner during summer until it feels like it’s winter. Though you have an inkling it’s just a tactic so you can cuddle up to him for warmth before bed. “Come on, slowpoke!” Taehyung breaks through your train of thought and then abandons you by running ahead like a hyperactive five year old. “I’d be faster if you helped me!” Taehyung doesn’t hear you. You wonder if you married a child — but you suppose that’s why you called him the light of your life during your vows. Like Yoongi once said at the dinner reception, Taehyung’s excessive energy is indeed a double-edged sword. You follow the stream of people to the center building, a modern wooden structure in the middle of the fifteen yurts that form a circle. It surprisingly looks alike to the advertisements, each with a porch and steps up to the door. The grass is verdant and pliant beneath your feet, the numerous trimmed trees around providing some nice shade and the flower beds give bright splashes of colour to the place. If this retreat wasn’t oddly centered around impregnation, you would’ve been convinced that it was a fancy camping resort. “Welcome everyone! Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad!” You finally join Taehyung’s side and look towards the stage in front of the main building. There’s a man with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks in a loose tunic and taupe pants. He stands next to a woman in a baggy poncho holding a ukulele for reasons beyond you. “I see some familiar faces here! To all those already familiar with the Baby Retreat, welcome home. I’ll try to keep this short and simple, so you’re not too bored.” He claps his hands together with a bright smile. You look around at the crowd to see elated expressions. “My name is Park Jimin and this is my girlfriend, Song Hyunjin. A little about us, we’ve been together for over ten years and yes, we have an open relationship with each other, but that does not mean we aren’t in love with each other.” He draws her in, nuzzling into her without shame and she giggles. “To our new faces, trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.” Jimin pulls away with an enormous grin. “We haven’t had any children ourselves, but don’t worry. We’re reproductive endocrinologists with proper training and medical degrees. But we started this retreat four years ago to take a more unconventional approach to reproduction. And for the next five days, we have the honour of hopefully helping you ladies conceive and you males impregnate your partner!” There’s some exchanged smiles and Taehyung looks at you with hopeful eyes. It feels better to hear these people aren’t uneducated and talking out of their ass, but you’re still unsure how to feel. Hyunjin laughs. “Not only that, our goal is to help you relax and truly deepen your relationship with your partner. While we can’t promise a hundred percent success rate, hopefully you’ll leave this place feeling more refreshed than you did before. With that being said, please feel free to come up and ask us any questions. We’re very open people who are more than happy to help you in your process of expanding your wonderful families. There is nothing more beautiful than pregnancy and birth.” She jumps off the stage and grabs a wooden crate. With a smile, she begins passing out packs. Jimin continues, “For the next five days, we’ll be helping everyone improve their diets and exercise habits while getting plenty of vitamin D. What my lovely Hyunjin is handing out now are your survival kits!” “For men, fenugreek supplements are given to improve your sperm counts and for the ladies, there are prenatal vitamins and folic acid. There’s also a guide to the activities provided around here and a map, some sunscreen and other knick-knacks to remember your time here. Don’t worry, we won’t bombard you with any pregnancy pamphlets or information. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about that.” It’s a bit refreshing to hear. You’ve been neck deep in research about conception that it’s been hard lately — another reason that you agreed to Taehyung’s whims. “Are you the Kim family?” Hyunjin asks and when you confirm it, she hands both you and Taehyung cute pouches. You reluctantly take it, but when you thank her, she happily smiles. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat.” The introduction drags on for a bit more before Hyunjin admits that it’s hot and that everyone’s probably tired, so the meeting ends and you open your pouch and find information on your yurt. “Not too bad, right?” Taehyung can tell by the look on your face as you gaze up at your white-tented yurt. “We’ll see,” you mumble and he takes the luggage, following behind you. “I thought we were going to spend five days in an orange tent, so I guess this is better by default.” “An orange tent?” He laughs. “But I showed you the commercial! Did you not pay attention?” “People lie on advertisements all the time, Tae.” But to your surprise, the interior of the yurt is even better than expected. It looks like a cozy cabin, wooden panel walls that separate the full kitchen from the full bathroom and provides some privacy to where the queen sized bed is. Light comes in from the top, filling the space with luminescence. There’s a mini-fridge filled with goods, plush towels set on the table with a personalized welcome card, down duvets that are soft to the touch. And it’s wrecked the moment Taehyung jumps on the bed with his arms and legs wide open like a starfish. He rolls over and props his head up with his hand — in the position where he often asks you in a breathy voice to paint him like one of your french girls. And he uses the same voice on you now while wiggling his brows, “Wanna ruin the sheets with me?” You burst out laughing, but it sounds all too tempting. He could probably dump a load in you within five minutes, though you’re not sure if anyone could hear you from the outside. “Didn’t they say there’s planned activities in an hour? What if we don’t show up.” “It’s fine. People come here for one reason anyway.” There’s a pause. “To fuck.” You roll your eyes, setting your suitcase next to the bed and you look at the nightstand to notice mineral oil lubricants. You’re mildly impressed at the details. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” “They won’t miss us.” Taehyung’s own attention is taken to a wooden basket on a shelf of the irregular shaped bookshelf and he comes over, only to grin when he sees what’s inside. “Honey. I think we should have some fun tonight.” You turn around, wondering what he’s up to now. But any snarky remarks die on your tongue when you find a leather whip in his left hand and a ten inch, neon pink dildo in his other hand. “Is that...even sanitary?!” You can’t imagine how many people have used it. “We can find out.” Taehyung fiddles around with it, pushes a button and the dildo begins to rotate, making the both of you laugh. “Honey, we gotta give them five stars on Yelp! They have a communal sex toy bin for us to use! We can’t get this anywhere else.” “Oh god. I’d rather not share my sex toys with anyone.” The two of you are interrupted by muffled folk music that begins to leak inside and it persuades you to go out. “C’mon, we should go check out what they have. If we have to spend five days here, we might as well meet some other people too and be social or whatever.” Taehyung grins, tossing the dildo back into the basket and joining your side. “You’re liking this place, aren’t you?” “No. I just think the yurt’s half-decent.” Taehyung can see right through you, but it’s a bit too early for the ‘told you so’ spiel so he holds back and the both of you step outside of the yurt. There’s a few people hanging around and the weather is more bearable as the sun slowly begins moving and setting over the horizon. You meet friendly newlyweds who are surprisingly having their honeymoon here. “We just can’t wait to have kids,” Rose, the young twenty three year old, says as she embraces her husband, Hoseok. They’re no strangers to publish displays of affection, openly kissing up on each other. It would make you a bit uncomfortable if not for how touchy Taehyung is as well. When you first got together all those years ago, your friends teased you about it but it’s been years since. No one’s a stranger to how you plop yourself down on Taehyung’s lap or how he might kiss you and then steal your food right off of your own plate. “When we saw that the retreat offered a honeymoon package, we just couldn’t resist,” Hoseok says, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you and Taehyung or his wife with how much he gazes at her. It’s a sweet sight though. You remember that honeymoon period. “Remember when we were that young?” you ask as you leave to the other side, giving the couple some much needed privacy. It was obvious they weren’t up for more conversation with the way they’re shifting and staring at one another. “When you were still hot? Yeah. I do—” Taehyung bursts out laughing when you jab him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re still hot, okay? The hottest chick here and you’d make the hottest MILF too.” “Damn straight.” The pair of you also run into another couple that’s older and appears a lot more comfortable with the place. “Oh, this is actually our second time here! The first time gave us the four year old troublemaker running amok back at home.” You blink in surprise, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “This place...worked for you?” “It sure did.” The woman, Dahyun, smiles. “Some people didn’t have as much luck as we did, but we had so much fun last time that we knew we just had to come back. We were actually staying in your yurt last time.” She points and you swivel your head over, intrigued. “Huh.” Taehyung raises a brow, noticing how engaged you are and the corner of his mouth tugs. Her husband, Seokjin, chuckles heartily. “We thought it was time to give our son a younger brother, so here we are! Tonight’s the welcome party and just a word of advice, I really recommend getting some of that grilled salmon. It’s absolutely delicious.” “Just let them eat whatever they want, Jin,” his wife sighs in exasperation. “I’m just saying! I would’ve liked to know last time — I would’ve gotten two plates before they ran out.” “This is why the doctor told you to eat less of everything. You ate more than I did when I was pregnant with Youngjae.” “I can’t help that I’m eating for three! For your information, I’m carrying the entire family on these broad, broad shoulders of mine. Soon, I’ll have to start eating for four.” Dahyun turns to you and Taehyung who are amused at their bickering. “I’m sorry. Please ignore him.” It’s not a bad place, at least not so far. You weren’t sure what you were anticipating, but on the entire way here, you were worried that it was a scam your poor husband fell for. Luckily though, it seemed like the accommodation is good and the people around are friendly and welcoming, coming from different kinds of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes you feel better about not having internet connection or being murdered in the middle of the night. The welcoming party turns out to be fairly nice too, and like Seokjin said, the food is delicious. It’s a buffet style with tables set out, full of what Jimin declares is antioxidant-rich foods. He and Hyunjin go on a tangent about the benefits, how soy and estrogen foods have been limited, how there’s an emphasis on fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins and folic acid, and you’re sorely impressed at the attention to detail they provide. “Oh my god. The salmon is amazing and have you tried these beans, Tae?!” Taehyung laughs as he watches you eat, eyes lifted to look at you across the rounded table. “I thought you hated beans.” “I do. But try it.” You lift your fork and he happily leans over, taking a bite. He swallows it down and smiles at how you stuff your cheeks. After dinner, the pair of you gather with the rest to watch a few performances held on the main stage. Jimin introduces other staff members who sing, dance and Hyunjin even does a number with her ukulele, belting out some indie songs while standing bare feet. It’s bizarre and a bit surreal to be sitting back in a lawn chair and watching some chick with flowers in her hair jump around and try to entertain you, but it’s not completely unwelcome. If anything, you were sort of having fun. The sun had set, making the weather milder. The breeze was warm against your cheeks and the fairy lights strung above were twinkling. The whole atmosphere lulled you and with your head leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder, every blink became heavier and heavier. “This is nice,” you mutter and he catches it. Your husband turns his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah?” “Mhmh...” You feel a wet kiss being planted at the top of your head and you decide to indulge, closing your eyes for just a moment. But the next time they open, you realize that the crowd has thinned, they’ve put on music on the stereo and Taehyung’s windbreaker is draped on top of you as a makeshift blanket. “Hey there, sleepy head.” He grins at you when he notices your lashes fluttering. “Want me to carry you back to the yurt?” “I’m fine.” It takes a second to get up and you stretch your arms out before the both of you make your way back to the yurt. There were a few younger couples lingering around and still taking in the scenery, but the years were catching up to you quickly and all you wanted was to dive into the sheets and satiate the rest of your sleepiness. “How long was I out for?” “About half an hour?” Taehyung fishes for the key and opens the door. “I didn’t even realize I was so tired.” You manage to kick off your shoes and beeline to the bathroom to brush your teeth. “Of course, you were tired. You didn’t even sleep on the bus and for the past few days you’ve been up late doing research.” You mumble incoherently, not having enough energy to argue with Taehyung and he grins, nudging you aside so he can grab his own toothbrush. In the next ten minutes, it’s lights out. You’re rolled onto the bed, tucked into the warm sheets like a burrito, and Taehyung’s settled in as well. You hear his exhale and you allow your muscles to relax in the comfortable darkness. The exhaustion that’s been built from the entire day washes over you. But before you can drift off, in the quietness of the room, you remember. And you reach out, arm stretched, feeling for your husband. Taehyung hums when you tap his shoulder. You feel him shift and mumble, “What’s wrong?” “I’m fertile,” you mutter with your eyes closed. “You need to stick your dick in me.” He bursts out laughing and his arm slings over your abdomen. “It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight, you know.” You sigh, too fatigued to get up and do the job yourself. “We’re gonna miss our opportunity, Tae.” A soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel yourself losing the fight to keep your consciousness. “We’ll have other chances. Relax.” “Relaxing….isn't gonna give us a baby.” “No, but it will keep my current baby sane.” After being together for so many years, Taehyung knows how to make his words sound sweet and enticing. And before you can even damn him for always catering to you and babying you, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

[Day Two] Breakfast is as incredible as dinner was. There’s a full fruit platter that’s apparently all organic and a number of carbohydrates to fill yourself all the way to lunch. But you begin to regret eating so much with the scheduled activity that follows. “Couples yoga is a way to build intimacy and trust with your partner.” Hyunjin and Jimin smile brilliantly and you wonder if they’re happy go lucky all the time. It must be fucking exhausting. “Taehyung.” You nudge the man beside you who’s intently listening and he turns his head. “You know I’m not flexible at all.” “Don’t worry.” He flashes a blazing grin. It’s way too early for this. “This is just for fun and I’ll catch you if anything.” “No. Last time I tried doing yoga, I pulled a muscle in my thigh—” “Oh look. They’re doing the first pose!” Your husband excitedly lugs you down and you’re forced to comply, crossing your legs and facing him. It’s simple at first. There are basic poses with him leaning against you. Although it is hard to find a good balance considering how tall Taehyung is and even for being lanky, he’s quite a bit stronger than you are. But when Hyunjin and Jimin begin to twist themselves around and Jimin holds her up by the feet with a single hand, you know it’s impossible. Unlike Taehyung, you never did cheerleading or any acrobatics. “You’re going to drop me or I’m going to snap your spine, Tae!” “Don’t you trust me?” You look at your half-monkey, half-clown of a husband. “Do you really want to know the truth?” The both of you collapse into a heaping mess before he can confirm or deny. He laughs and starts tickling you for not being able to listen until you’re begging him to stop before you look more like an idiot than you already do. There’s a few couples who do a good job and you giggle when Taehyung mutters passive aggressive comments on how they’re teacher’s pets or that their form is awful. But there’s the fair share of other pairs who do as bad as you, namely Seokjin and Dahyun, the old couple from last night, bickering at being unable to do any poses. You can’t say that couple’s yoga is particularly relaxing, but it’s silly and you find yourself having fun. Hyunjin leads the cool down exercise and Taehyung nearly whacks you in the head with how he stretches. Your glare gains his exaggerated pout then cheesy smile. “Now as the very last cool down exercise, we’re going to take our partners by the hand.” You mimic her and clasp Taehyung’s hands, awaiting further instructions. “And we’re going to gaze into their eyes.” What? “Focus into the colour of their irises, how brown or blue or green they might be, or even the pattern of them. Sometimes we don’t truly look at one another like we should.” “What are they even saying?” you mutter and the corner of Taehyung’s mouth twitches. In spite of how bizarre it is, you follow and stare into Taehyung’s rounded eyes. They’re brown. Like they’ve always been. But you must admit, when the morning sunlight catches his irises at particular angles, the colour is a lighter shade than usual. They’re quite bright too. “They say if we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, our heartbeat synchronizes together.” What? Your brows furrow skeptically and you’re about to turn away, but suddenly Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin. “Don’t look away,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you swallow hard. “Okay.” You focus your eyes to enlarge and focus. “I’m looking.” You wonder if this is a staring contest, but even with his wolfish smile and being married for so long, Taehyung’s intent stare starts to make you feel vulnerable. You wonder if he’s always looked at you so affectionately. More importantly, you realize that even with all his dumb antics — like deciding to paint the fence green and then stopping halfway or ripping out the cabinets in the kitchen and never replacing them like he intended — you still love this sweet and kind dummy. “Alright. Everyone can relax now,” Jimin announces softly as he claps and you finally blink a few times, eyes stinging from how you forced them open. “That’s the end of this session. Thank you for joining everyone.” Yet, Taehyung holds your gaze a moment longer. And before you can pipe up and tell him it’s over, the man leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when he pulls away. “As much as sweat is a good look on you, I think it’s time to shower, Mrs. Kim.” You scoff and he holds your hand with an enormous grin, dragging you back to the yurt. The two of you hop into the shower together, a habit that Taehyung insists is to save water for the good of the environment, but you swear half the time, you end up wasting more than if either of you do it separately. You’re sure that right now is one of those times. “Hey.” You turn around as he’s lathering up his shampoo. “Hey, yourself.” He smiles and shifts towards the stream of water before screaming at how hot it is. Taehyung quickly adjusts it, dissipating the fog on the glass. “Why do you like bathing in molten lava, woman?” “You always make it too cold.” You scoff, but don’t dwell on the argument as you lean into his backside. “Listen, should we get a quickie in?” Taehyung frees himself of the soap and looks at you. “If we do, we’ll miss lunch and then the hike.” “We’re going on a hike?!” “Yep, so hurry up cause if we don’t get lunch, we’re not gonna make it!” He gets out of the shower, leaving you to be bludgeoned by the ice, cold water. You sigh in exasperation. The purpose of coming here is to conceive, not go on a hike. But with how enthused he is, you begrudgingly join. Afternoons are the worst out here. The sun is sweltering and there isn’t an ounce of a breeze or a wind. As a result, the heat stifles and lingers without dissipating, causing sweat to dampen your clothing and stick to the back of your neck. The weather exhausts you and you feel your creamy lunch pasta up your throat again as you lug your legs up the steep, rocky incline. No matter how much you try to keep up, you fall behind from the group. Taehyung twirls around with a big grin, mouth perfectly symmetrically. “Are you okay?” “W-What does it look like?” you pant. It’s unfair that Taehyung works out once a year and treats his body like a candy trashcan but is still more fit than you are. “I can carry you if you want.” “You’re going to snap in half carrying me.” You pass him as he laughs. You hear him catch up, feet skipping along like he’s playing hopscotch. Then suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted off the ground and you shriek, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck. You’re scooped up in his arms like he’s about to kick down the door into the bedroom, but instead, he starts sprinting up the path like a maniac. “Taehyung!” you squeal and he laughs again. “Isn’t this better?” “Aren’t you tired?” “If I say yes, you’re gonna think I’m trying to tell you to lose weight, but for the record, I like how soft you are.” You roll your eyes, embarrassed as you pass a few couples, but none of them seem to find it bizarre and they even smile warmly at you and Taehyung. Yet, he starts to slow down tremendously after a few minutes, panting and sweating profusely. You ask him if he’s going to put you down yet, but you underestimate just how stubborn your dear husband is. Taehyung refuses until you’re up at the top of the trail, making it to where Jimin and Hyunjin are by the waterfall. There, you’re finally on set on your feet again. You pass him your water bottle. “Drink it before I’m the one dragging you down.” He grins and downs it. Up here, it’s much more refreshing and easier to breathe. There’s a tiny waterfall coming from the higher mountains and there are trees around to provide shade. When you squint, you can see the campsite at a distance with all the yurts. “We should take some pictures!” Taehyung declares when he steadies his breath and pulls out his selfie stick from the hideous fanny pack that you still won’t admit is pretty convenient. “Your mom is gonna want a copy so don’t pull any ugly faces, Tae.” “My face is never ugly.” He tugs you beside him and snaps a few shots before reviewing them carefully. Taehyung always had an eye for these kinds of things. “We didn’t get a good angle of the water.” “I can take it for you.” “What’s the point if we’re not together?” His thick brows are furrowed, lips lopsided, sighing. A matronly and friendly voice pipes up next to you, “Do you need any help?” Dahyun is smiling with Seokjin beside her and Taehyung appears relieved. “Yes, please.” She takes his phone as he folds back his selfie stick and she stands off to the side, capturing you and Taehyung smiling with his arm around you. “One. Two. Three. I’ll take another one.” Dahyun changes the angle a bit and Taehyung leans over to pull on your cheek while you feign a glare at him. The second picture is taken while the woman and her husband laugh, endeared. “There we go. You can check them to see if they’re good.” The phone is handed back and by Taehyung’s expression, it seems acceptable. “You two are too cute. When did you get married?” “Oh, I think three years ago? Yeah. Three.” It’s much longer than it actually feels. It seemed like it was a week ago when you first met in class and thought he was annoying. Like yesterday, he was supposed to propose at a fancy restaurant but failed when you found the ring box the night before — how he screamed at you to stop, but it was too late and he ended up going with it. They’ve all become memories that you cherish. “We met back in school and dated a while before getting married.” Dahyun smiles. “Have you decided how many kids you want yet?” You hitch a thumb to Taehyung. “He wants four, but I’m fine with two.” “The bigger the family, the better, right?” he says, looking up from the screen of his phone. “Wait until you have kids, you’ll end up wanting more,” Seokjin chuckles, “That or you’ll want to give them all away, but personally, I could raise a whole football team if she’d let me.” His wife jabs him in the ribs. “Yeah, because you’re not the one who has to give birth to them.” “And that’s why you’re the boss of the house.” He pouts at her while the corners of his mouth tickle up into a smile, and she relents. “Let’s be honest, the real boss of the house is our little troublemaker. I swear he took after all your bad traits.” Seokjin gasps. “Excuse me, Youngjae is my most masterful creation...even if he painted all over our leather seats and popped our car tire with his batman toy.” She shakes her head with a light sigh, but it’s hard to hide her beaming expression. “I should’ve known he would give me trouble when he went past the due date for two weeks.” “T-two weeks?” you sputter. Dahyun nods, finally having the sympathy she was trying to fish out of her husband. “My stomach was as big as a watermelon and I was in labour for fourteen hours before I ended up getting an emergency c-section and he came out a whopping ten pounds.” Your head is swirling as you try to imagine a ten pound baby in this petite woman. It almost seems like a horror story that’s waiting to be picked up by Hollywood. “But honestly, the hardest part wasn’t the whole pregnancy or birthing process. It was afterwards.” Her exhale is long and fatigued. “Suddenly there’s another human being you’re responsible for and you have to take care of them while you’re still in recovery. I remember when Youngjae couldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night. I always had an idea that having kids was a lot of work, but you really don’t have time for yourself once they’re born, and not to mention my bladder was completely done for after the whole thing.” “Alright, alright.” Her husband pulls her close. “I already know you’re a woman warrior. I saw it with my own eyes.” Dahyun smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she turns to him, deadpanning, “No, you didn’t. You passed out half-way.” “I was there in spirit,” Seokjin insists humorously. Dahyun scoffs while Taehyung grins at their back and forth that’s reminiscent of his own dynamic with you. “But were they worth it?” “Oh, a thousand percent,” Dahyun responds without needing a second to consider, expression softening. “Enough that I would want to do it all over again.” She doesn’t get a chance to say much else when Jimin’s voice pierces through the chatter and everyone gathers together with the last stragglers who have finally made it up. “Thank you, everyone, for coming all the way up here. This is Serenity Falls that was actually…” But his voice drowns out. You linger on what Dahyun said, about child rearing and birthing, and there’s nothing that can be done to the uneasy emotion swelling inside of you. The walk back down is silent. Done without a single complaint from you about the hot weather or how your feet ache. Taehyung notices, glancing at you several times. He doesn’t say anything until you’re back at the yurt. “What’s wrong?” You look at him from across the room. “Nothing, why?” “You’ve just been quiet.” “I just….” You inhale and decide to divulge him. “I was just thinking about what Dahyun and Seokjin were saying. Do you think we’re cut out for this, Taehyung?” His head quirks to one side. “Why wouldn’t we be?” “You and I can barely take care of ourselves.” “That’s not true.” “We forget to buy food all the time.” “That makes midnight snack runs fun.” He grins. You exhale an unsteady breath and Taehyung approaches you. He doesn’t mind how sweaty you are and wraps his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, right? One step at a time.” “But what if it’s too much and you decide you don’t want to do it anymore? Or that...you don’t want to be with me?” He opens his mouth, but you keep going before he can jump in. It’s not just about you being self-conscious or needing reassurance. You’re simply trying to imagine the worst case scenario as realistically as you can. “Like when I’m still bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do.” “I’ll still love you no matter the changes,” Taehyung murmurs earnestly, searching your expression. “Even if you’re bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do. I’ll use google to figure it out and get the baby to calm down and I’ll get you some chocolate and I’ll rub your feet.” You scoff lightly. “You make it sound so easy.” “Maybe because it won’t be as hard as you think. I’m great with kids and we got killer teamwork, you know, plus this baby’ll be the best project we’ve ever done together.” “A project that’s gonna last us eighteen years.” You smile. Taehyung laughs, the sound mellifluous in the room. “Which isn’t that long considering how fast time moves.” You hum and encircle your arms around his neck. Taehyung gets the hint and leans in to seal your lips against his, slotting them together to kiss you the way he knows you like it. It’s slow, comforting, an opportunity to revel in the softness of his lips. Taehyung gives you courage — he always has and when you break apart, smiling against each other, you feel worlds better than before. “I’m gonna start a bubble bath. You can join me if you want.” It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, one Taehyung fully recognizes and makes him smile in amusement as you saunter away. Taking advantage of the tub in the bathroom, you lower the stopper of the drain and dump in the soap they offer. The water gets filled three quarters way with a layer of bubbles and you strip. You sigh as you get comfortable in the tub. “Is it warm?” Your husband leans against the doorway, arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curled. “Uh-huh.” You loll your head on the edge of the tub and lift up your foot, watching the way the water cascades off your skin. “Are you not going to get in?” “Maybe later,” Taehyung surprisingly replies. He rarely rejects any chance at jumping your bones when you’re being this forward about it. There’s no hike or lunch to catch that’s preventing him from having fun with you either. But as your husband walks out, you catch him unceremoniously stealing the clothes you have prepared and the stack of towels by the sink. “What are you doing?” “There’s no point in covering yourself up if I’m gonna strip you anyway.” He flashes a mischievous grin and you sigh, relenting in his antics. You simply lay back to enjoy the water, muscles relaxing and your brain that’s constantly in overdrive empties. After ten minutes, your skin begins to wrinkle, so you drain the water and get out. But the moment you stand up, the cool air conditioning slams into you and your body starts to shiver. “Taehyung!” you shout and hear silence. “At least give me a towel!” Fortunately for you, there’s a smaller one on the rack he missed so you swipe at it and wrap your shoulders to protect yourself. But you’re still dripping wet and in need of your clothes, so you stomp out to find your ridiculous partner who’s apparently five years old and— “HA!” Said man you’re searching for bursts out of the closet and you scream, startled half to death, nearly falling to the ground. Taehyung starts to laugh like a maniac. “Are you serious?!” You gawk at him. “How long did you even wait there for?” “Like five minutes ago.” The bastard wolfishly grins. “Worth it though.” You cock a brow at him, sighing. “So that’s why you didn’t join me in the bath?” “No. I didn’t join you, so I could do this.” He yanks the towel where your breasts meet, leaving you nude. Goosebumps rise all over your skin and your nipples harden in the frigid air. You screech, arms trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung, it’s cold!” “I can warm you up,” he says but then runs away when he reads the glare on your face, giggling boyishly. It’s completely childish. If anyone was watching, you’d be mortified, but it’s been a long time since there was any shame in your marriage, so you stomp after him while nude. You hunt the man down while he tries to evade by rounding the coffee table. It’s no longer about grabbing clothes or covering yourself up, it’s time for revenge. Luckily, the yurt isn’t big enough to have a game of tag. You manage to reach him and you steal the opportunity to yank his pants down. Taehyung, mid-laugh, trips on his feet and stumbles on the carpet. You burst out giggles, looking at his ass in the air and he giggles too from the infectious sound bubbling up your throat. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” He mutters in a low voice with half-lidded eyes and you scramble away with another shriek. “You started it!” You jump onto the bed and Taehyung kicks off his pants. You don’t ask why he’s skipped out on wearing boxers, but you notice he’s already half-hard and that only makes you laugh louder. He chases after you as you duck and steal his own tactic of rounding the coffee table. But unfortunately for you, Taehyung has always been destined to win with his longer legs. He catches you within two strides and snatches you as you scream. You’re thrown over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes and he smirks. “Caught you.” “Taehyung! People are gonna hear!” You laugh in spite of being the one who’s making most of the noise and he tosses you onto the bed. Usually, you hate to be manhandled, but your husband’s the only exception to the rule. “Let them hear.” He hovers over you and the laughter dies down. Taehyung stares earnestly into your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow. But you don’t like to lose and as his wife of three years, you know his one, true weakness. Your fingers lift to Taehyung’s armpits and he seizes when you start tickling him. You laugh when he does and once he doubles over, there’s an opening to the left, a perfect escape route. You steal the opportunity while you still have it and start to climb off the bed, but he regains his breath and grabs your ankle, tugging you back to him in one swift motion without even needing to try. Taehyung grins. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.” “Yeah, and I know you like it.” He grabs your wrists before you can make another tickle attack and pins it above your head. You can tell that there’s no more time for jokes or any more playing around, not when you can feel his hard cock against your stomach. “You smell good,” he sighs into your neck, inhaling deeply. “Cherry blossom? Peony?” “Strawberries,” you answer. “You smell like sweat.” “You’re gonna end up like me anyway.” Taehyung smiles and leans in to kiss you. It isn’t shy or chaste. His tongue licks into your mouth and you exhale, a strangled moan muffled against his lips as you melt against him. He finally has you where he wants and you let him take control. The pair of you swap spit for a few minutes until he releases your hands, allowing you to curl your fingers into his shoulders as he caresses your waist. Taehyung eventually breaks away with a playful glint in his eyes. “You wanna try the toys?” You both look at the basket half across the room and he rolls off of you. You get to your feet to inspect it for yourself and discover an array of colourful gadgets, some that you’ve tried before and others that you’re sure needs to have an instruction manual with it. “I’m not putting any of these dildos in me, Tae. I don’t know where they’ve been.” “I know.” He lays with his head propped up by his hand and you eye something at the bottom of the basket. You pull out a leather whip and look at him. “Ooh, a classic pick there, sweetheart.” A whip seems more sanitary considering it doesn’t have to go in anyone’s orifices. “Is it?” You approach with a tiny smile, staring down the innocent man. “Roll over.” “What?” “I’ll whip you.” You grin and he blinks at you. More often than not, you’re the more submissive one in bed, but the idea of having Taehyung crying out and the idea of you cackling at his pain has him immediately rolling face down in intrigue and you stepping up on the bed. He turns his face to the side. “Do you know how to do it?” “How hard can it be?” There’s a pause. “But tell me if it hurts.” “The point is to make it hurt, Y/N.” “Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you-hurt you.” “I can handle it.” Taehyung smirks and you scoff. Even in this position, he’s trying to maintain his dominance. You grip it tightly and don’t count. Simply, with a flick your wrist, you slam the whip across his backside. It makes a loud cracking sound and you hear Taehyung sharply inhale. His teeth grit and you freeze, watching his expression carefully. “How was it?” “Is my back split open?” he asks, trying to look over his shoulder. “No.” “I think I might have to go to the ER.” He sits up completely, overdramatic in the way he fumbles around and his tone filled with some mischief. “I think there’s internal bleeding. Or my spine is broken. I wouldn’t be surprised.” “It’s fine, Tae.” you laugh. So much for telling you to go for it. But you already had an inkling Taehyung wasn’t one for receiving pain. After all, he’s still your whiny baby who only eats vanilla yogurt. “Not your thing?” “Not my thing.” He takes the whip from your hand and tosses it across the room. “I have a better toy in mind.” You’re about to remind him you’re not gonna put any of those communal toys inside of you, but he instead walks over to his suitcase and starts tearing some clear packaging open with something pink inside. You read the label — it’s a remote control vibrating egg. Your brows furrow. “When did you get that?” “Two days before we left. Amazon prime, babe.” “So that’s what you were looking at when you told me you were doing some online shopping?” “Precisely.” Taehyung grins and you’re not sure if you should be pleasantly surprised or in dismay since the two of you have already made a pact not to buy anything else online. The treadmill bought on an impulse is still taking up half the space of the living room. Before you can think too much, Taehyung gets it open and comes over. He nudges your thighs to open and you lay back, leaning against the headboard. You’re not that wet yet, if at all, but it doesn’t stay that way when his long fingers rub against your clit in circles. With his other hand, he strokes against your slit and then sinks his index finger in knuckle deep. You throw back your head, moaning his name at the intrusion while he remains silent, intently watching your pink cunt squeeze. Taehyung curls his finger and swallows hard. The sloppy sounds of your cunt fill the room and he hums in satisfaction. “Okay. Ready?” “Uh-huh.” The head of the cold egg meets your folds and it slowly enters. While the toy might not be big or long, the girth stretches against your warm walls and you keen. Taehyung makes a low noise, encouraging you to take it. When it’s in, he smiles brilliantly. “Good job, sweetheart. You did it.” “Now what?” “This, of course.” Taehyung dangles the remote in front of you and then like a psycho, he ramps it up to the highest possible setting. Intense vibrations are felt through your body instantaneously and you cry, head knocked back against the headboard as your velvet walls squeeze and tremble. “T-Taehyung!” “Good?” “I-It’s too much!” You’re completely at his mercy and he takes advantage of it, drinking you in with a wolfish smile. You’re unable to muster a glare at him, reduced to a complete mess while your center leaks and drips onto the sheet. Still, you try to reach over to the remote. He dodges when you lunge at him. “Nu-uh.” Luckily, you get a hold of your husband and climb over to him. His arm is extended straight up, laughing as you try to snatch it from him. He waves it inches away to mock you while enjoying the sight of you quivering on top of him. “T-Tae!” “Okay, okay.” He laughs and transfers it into his other hand, about to turn the setting down a notch. But right at the moment you’re about to snag it for yourself, the remote flies out of his hand. It falls through the gap between the wall and the headboard. It clatters to the ground. “Oh shit.” “Taehyung!” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rolls off the mattress and looks underneath the bed before abruptly standing. “I’m going to need a long stick or something.” He starts to look around the room, searching for a tool to grab the remote that’s out of reach, and you don’t know if you should suffocate him with a pillow or facepalm yourself hard enough to get knocked out into a coma. You can pull out the egg yourself, but the violent vibrations were beginning to thrum pleasure through you, so as your useless husband goes fishing for the remote, you finish the job. Your fingers play with your clit, rubbing the bud as your slick drips down your thighs and you come hard on the toy. The same moment light flashes beneath your eyelids and your toes curl, Taehyung grabs the remote with the help of a rolled brochure and shuts it off. The both of you are winded for different reasons. “You know, I'd say that was pretty hot if not for how stressful that actually was.” “You’re an idiot.” You tug the toy out of you and bat him over lazily, feeling spent on how hard you came. “Now dump some sperm in me, idiot.” Taehyung has a cheesy grin and climbs over you. Despite the struggles of grabbing the toy’s remote, he’s fully hard from the noises you were making. “I’d tell you to ask more nicely, but I’ll let it go.” He aligns the head of his weeping cock to your swollen cunt and leans his weight into you. He starts to push in and you whine, gripping his forearms. As wet as you are, Taehyung is still well-endowed — less girthy than the toy, but there’s a considerable length to him. When he bottoms out, you can feel him all the way to your throat. He tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and kisses you. “Sorry about earlier.” “’t’s okay. It was fun,” you admit and he smiles, starting to work up a good rhythm. You feel hot in your face with the pressure of his body on top of yours, hardened nipples brushing against his chest. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his length. It draws Taehyung’s groans into your neck. “F-Fuck. You’re so tight.” It feels good and you know he’s reveling in the pleasure too. His eyes are shut tight, the scrunch made between his brows and it entices you to reach up and kiss him to which he sweetly indulges you. Your tongues twine as you pant against each other and Taehyung starts to lose his pacing. He bends your knee, hitting you at a deeper angle as his strokes become increasingly frantic and quick. You egg him on and he groans once more before he thrusts himself as deep as he can go and cums. Ropes of white paint your walls, the head of his cock against your cervix and filling your cunt and womb up. You can feel some of it dribbling out, seeping past your folds and when Taehyung’s about to withdraw, you quickly grab his forearm. “Wait. Just stay put for a second. I have to keep it in.” He nods and kisses your lips. “Okay.” Taehyung nestles into you, nuzzling into your neck and you hope this is the one.

[Day Three] There were lots of activities and amenities offered and advertised by Jimin during the introduction of the retreat, but you realize you might’ve missed over the most important one of all. “How does that feel?” the massage therapist asks as she works a knot out of your shoulders and smooths your skin with the oil. “Amazing,” you murmur from the corner of your mouth, melted against the table. Couples massages were something you always scoffed at, but holy shit, it’s absolutely paradise. With the breeze blowing through the pitched tent and the glowing humidifier releasing a fresh scent, you’ve never been more relaxed as all the stiffness is worked out of you. You open your eyes to see Taehyung enjoying it as well — though not as much as you are since he’s quite ticklish. Sometimes, he squirms a bit too much and his massage therapist is at a loss of what to do. But when it’s all done, you feel like you’re in a new body. “Oh my god. I think I’m more flexible than before. Look, Tae!” You stretch your leg and he giggles at how happy your mood is. “If I knew you liked it this much, I would’ve signed us up for one at the spy near the gym.” Your eyes are wide, catching the sunlight. “Do you think they’re as good as this place?” Taehyung grins. “Probably.” “We should go when we get back then. Oh, do you wanna check out the library?” “Sure.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers together and he smiles to himself. It’s a free day without many planned activities, giving you both an opportunity to look around the retreat for yourselves and take it easy. And the pair of you take full advantage of the opportunity. Since morning, you were lazing around the yurt and after breakfast and the massages, you decide to lay in one of the hammocks by the trees while Taehyung naps with you. Said man hasn't seen you this stress free in a while, so he happily indulges you in all your wishes. Even when night falls and you step away from the stage where Hyunjin is performing again to stargaze. It’s an odd activity for you since mosquitoes love to especially swarm around you when given the chance and on numerous occasions, you’ve been a moth landing spot. But tonight, the breeze is soft and gentle, and you don't feel any tickles on your skin that isn’t Taehyung’s hand grazing against yours. The grass is pliant beneath your feet and the fairy lights twinkle far away enough that its luminescence doesn’t obstruct. You knock your heads back to view the horizon, allowing the darkness to engulf you and the stars to emerge. “Remember Bali?” “When you lost your passport?” “When we went stargazing with the tour group,” Taehyung corrects. “It still wasn’t as beautiful as this.” “You think everything in front of you is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You said that about the Eiffel and then Tokyo Tower.” He laughs. “Hey, my mind doesn’t change that often. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.” You scoff, looking away from the sky towards him with a pout. He always knows how to lay on the sappiness without needing to blink. Your dear husband has always been shameless in that aspect and you adore him for it. “So I’m a thing to you now?” “You know that’s not what I mean.” He wraps his arms around your waist. The both of you stare up at the sky. “Is that the big dipper?” You look at where he’s pointing to the large clusters of stars. “I can’t see it. Maybe that’s scorpio.” “Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung tries guessing, “It might be taurus or gemini. Or libra.” “Aren’t you just naming astrological signs now?” “Maybe.” He grins. “I’m a capricorn.” “Yes, I know.” You two of you clearly don’t know anything about constellations or how to find them, but it doesn’t make the moment any less enjoyable. Yet when your necks start to ache, he takes your hand and strolls down the path through the trees. “Taehyung. What if we get lost?” None of you have your phones or any flashlights. There’s only the crescent moon giving off its light. “Don’t worry. I have a great sense of direction.” “You and I both know that’s not true.” “You have a great sense of direction, so we won’t get lost,” he says and you sigh without putting much of an argument up. Not when you knew he was headed to the lake you had peeked at earlier in the afternoon, and now it was shimmering with the moonlight, reflecting the starry horizon in its water. There’s a certain kind of peacefulness, a serenity that you would never get back in the city or even the suburbs. Certainly not without light pollution or the occasional car whizzing past. Here, there is none of those noises, none of those distractions, just you and Taehyung savouring the view⁠— “Hey.” But of course, your mischievous husband has to have ulterior motives for coming all the way here. And you know there are ulterior motives by that glint in his eye and the sly smile he has. “What?” “Wanna take a dip?” Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Are you crazy? It’s probably freezing! What if we get hypothermia and die?” “For the record, you’d make one beautiful angel. But I’ll warm you up before it gets to that point.” Taehyung grins and starts stripping, tugging his shirt right off his head. It’s always been like this — him proposing something out of your norm, you try to voice your concerns, and then you’re the one who’s diving head first into it without hesitation and end up having more fun than he does. “God, it’s so cold!” The moment the water touches your toes, you recoil. But you brace yourself and continue onward with your entire body shivering. It’s your first time skinny dipping ⁠— something normally reserved for rebellious teenagers and most certainly not for late twenty-some year olds. Yet neither of you have qualms, even if you’re shrieking and Taehyung is laughing and following behind you. “It’s freezing, Taehyung!” “Come here.” He pulls you to him so your backside is pressed to his front and you wonder how Taehyung can be so warm all the time. The pair of you get waist deep into it and you turn around to grip him. Your husband smiles and holds onto you, eventually going far enough that the water reaches your shoulders. “See? Isn’t this nice?” You hum, gazing up at the stars and the moon, the sight reflected on the water and how you’re pressed to Taehyung. “Seems like the beginning of a horror movie.” He laughs and your feet try to reach down to find stability, but you realize you can’t touch the ground anymore and your grip on him tightens. “Walk back a bit, Tae.” “Why?” “You know I can’t swim.” His mouth curls. “But I like how you’re holding onto me. I won’t let go,” he adds after a long pause, “if you beg me not to.” Your arms immediately come to loop around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, latching onto him in a vice grip like a koala does to a branch. “Taehyung! I’m not kidding.” “Oh...oh!” The bastard pretends that he’s gonna let go of you and actually does for a split-second. He laughs at your panicked expression. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” You feign a pointed glare that turns out to be more of a pout. “You’re lucky I like you.” “You only like me?” “Yeah and if you keep going, I’m going to demote you from husband to friend.” Taehyung makes a pained, sharp sound. “Can’t let that happen then.” He suddenly hoists you up higher, grip secure on your thighs and smiles brilliantly while you scoff. You savour the view and the warmth of his body heat, but you’re slightly distracted. “Do you think anyone’s gonna steal our clothes, Tae?” You squint at the small pile near the shore. “Who would?” “I don’t know. What if a bear comes from the bushes and takes them? We’ll have to walk back naked.” “I’m pretty sure there aren’t bears here, Y/N. Stop overthinking it.” Taehyung suddenly grabs a hold of your chin and turns your head for you to look only at him. Then, he kisses you in a soft and gentle way before the tip of his tongue meets the seam of your lips. You happily oblige, parting them and allowing him access to your tongue and giving him a taste of you. The man hums in satisfaction as soft smacking noises fill the surroundings. You lean into his firm frame while Taehyung’s large hands slinks from your thigh to the curve of your ass. You feel his thumb probe against your folds. “T-Taehyung.” His hard length is beneath you and you grind down on him, feeling empty. It draws a groan from his throat. After a moment, you get his cock inside of you. The stretch soothes the itch you had, filling your cunt deliciously. But unlike the movies, it’s not enough for you. The water washes away the lubricant, each stroke rough and the glide slower than you’d like. So you beg him and the both of you are dragged up onto the shore again. You turn on all fours. The pebbles uncomfortably dig into your knees, but it’s a distraction that blurs into the background when Taehyung pounds into you. You feel all of him, his body heat against yours, each thrusting movement flicking off the droplets of water from your skin. And when Taehyung turns your head to kiss you while rubbing at your clit, you cum around his cock. He finishes as you beg for it and Taehyung’s sticky fluids leak down your thighs on the trek back.

[Day Four] Taehyung blinks blearily, slowly coming to consciousness. He scratches his bed head and groans at how his muscles ache. But when he turns his head, the other side of the bed is cold and empty. His eyes widen in confusion and he feels more awake than before. He checks the time and realizes he slept in, a total of ten hours, which isn’t a surprise considering how last night’s rendezvous continued and was more intense than usual. What is unusually, however, is that you’re gone. But he soon finds you outside. Bathing in the sun. Laying in a hammock. Napping with a book next to you. Your eyes flutter open as his shadow covers your figure. The corner of his mouth pulls. “Morning.” You sheepishly grin. “Morning.” “What time did you get up?” “Like an hour ago. The breeze was nice so I thought I’d do some reading, but I guess I accidentally fell asleep.” “Looks like you’ve gotten comfortable.” Taehyung’s enormous smile aches his cheeks. You’ve fallen in love with this place more than he has, but he doesn’t mind whatsoever. He loves watching you have fun. The two of you have breakfast, inhaling in the food, and then head to a meditation class on the grass led by Hyunjin. Typically, Taehyung has to convince you to take part in such a session and you’d usually wave it off as a waste of time. But there are no qualms or an ounce of hesitation in your expression when you head over. “Now breathe in, and out, a steady stream of breath. Think about all that you are grateful for. Everything that has made your life amazing, and let that positive energy surround you as the negative energy releases.” But while you’re eager, Taehyung, on the other hand, finds out that meditation is not cut out for him. He’s bored out of his mind from the lack of stimulation. Time feels like it’s dragging on slower, each second a minute and a minute is an hour. Somehow, meditating makes him feel even more exhausted than before and his mind ends up wandering. Taehyung thinks about how he’s really craving some fatty burgers instead of the organic oatmeal and yogurt he had — how hot the weather is — how it’s hard to breathe — how sweat sticks to his skin. “Hold your breath for three seconds and release for three seconds.” He sighs and peels back an eye to see you with your hands pressed together, concentrated in following instructions. The corner of his mouth tickles into a smile. As bored as he is, it’s worth seeing you happy. // The more excited you are about something, the more you run around from place to place and Taehyung’s resorted to looking for you. Luckily, the resort is small, so he finds you in front of the main building, chatting to a certain brunette with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks. “—heard that doggy actually works for some people, but for me, it doesn’t feel right...like…” “The head of the cock isn’t right up against the cervix?” Jimin hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried angling your leg better? Sometimes you need to bend a bit and he needs to be leaning towards the side rather than just hovering straight on top.” What. Taehyung’s brows lift and he quickly approaches. Your face lights up when you see him. “Oh, hey.” “I was looking for you.” Taehyung throws his arm over your shoulder and subtly tugs you into his chest. He looks at the other man, eyes narrowed in on him which he doesn’t seem to notice. “Sorry, I was just caught up with Jimin.” “What were you talking about?” “What position is best for conception.” You blink innocently like it’s not a big deal you’re exploiting the details about your sex lives to another guy, and while he’s not embarrassed whatsoever, it was a bit too much information being shared for Taehyung’s liking. “Turns out elevating the hips might not help as much as we thought it does.” “Huh.” Taehyung deadpans, “That’s interesting.” “I know, right?” Your expression is bright, oblivious to his turmoil. At the same time, Hyunjin exits from the building in yet another flower crown and flowy skirt. She smiles at the both of you and joins Jimin’s side, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and holding his hand. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.” You smile at her. “No, it’s okay.” The woman nods and looks to her partner while her voice drops into a more private tone. “Just wanted to let you know that Taehoon and I are done.” As if to validate her words, a timid yet tall man exits the building and they wave goodbye to one another before he walks off towards the parking lot. Jimin smiles. “Did you have fun?” “Yeah. It was nice.” Both you and Taehyung exchange expressions. He wonders if you’re thinking what he is or if he’s understanding the insinuations correctly. As if they catch the inquisitive looks on your faces, they smile in a relaxed way. There’s no need to explain anything to either of you when you’re strangers, but they’re open enough and Hyunjin says, “Taehoon’s my second partner.” “Second...partner?” “Hyunjin and I are in an open relationship,” Jimin clarifies in a friendly manner. “It’s not really traditional, but it works well for us.” “Oh.” Taehyung and you wordlessly bob your heads. He’s pretty sure they mentioned it during their introduction but it slipped his mind. They must get asked a lot of questions too since Hyunjin answers what he’s thinking, telling the both of you there’s not a lot of jealousy involved since they trust each other wholeheartedly and communicate a lot. And rather than finding it bizarre, you’re left intrigued. Taehyung notices as you walk away. “Do you want an open relationship too?” “You know it would never work for us.” You lean over, hugging his arm. “I’m too possessive for that.” He laughs. “Then what about talking to Jimin about our sex positions?” “He’s a professional.” You shrug. “I thought I could get helpful advice. Why?” “Nothing, it’s just kind of weird.” Jimin doesn’t look like a professional. He looks like just some dude in khaki shorts and a white shirt, obnoxiously bulging biceps, probably has rock hard abs, and he’s in an open relationship and clearly doesn’t mind chatting up you, aka Taehyung’s wife. “Are you jealous?” “What? No.” Taehyung scoffs, suddenly defensive and you give him that look like you know him better than that. “I just don’t think we don’t need to ask for help yet, and at least not about our positions. We’re gonna have a baby one way or another, Y/N. We just have to be patient.” “Tell that to my dying eggs.” You walk off and Taehyung grins. “My sperm’s strong enough that it’ll rescue your dying eggs.” // Evening eventually comes and you try to revel in the surrounding sights, the atmosphere of the entire place and the very cozy yurt you’ve grown to adore. It’s sad knowing that tomorrow you’ll have to depart from the resort. You regret not coming here with a more open mind. That way, you could’ve enjoyed and embraced this place much sooner. “Actually, I’m kind of glad. I’m getting sick of them serving the same food.” You’re shocked at your husband’s apathy. “But it’s antioxidant-rich—” “I just want some fried chicken or a burger.” You scoff. “That’s why the doctor told you to lower your blood sugar and you’re not even over forty yet.” But still, you’re taken aback that he’s not in love with the resort. “Out of everyone, I thought this would’ve been your haven. I was expecting you to beg me to build a cabin here or something to stay.” Taehyung hums, leaning back into the chair. “I’m not saying the resort is bad. As long as I get to spend time with you, I like it. And I like that you like it.” “Psh.” He always knows how to say the right thing, especially when he’s doing it absentmindedly and not trying to get something out of you. You lean over, hand lifting to squeeze his cheeks together and you turn his head to kiss him. Taehyung smiles at the soft and affectionate gesture. But you look at him with half-lidded eyes that mean more. “Wanna ditch?” It’s the final celebration that Jimin and Hyunjin are happily hosting, but you don’t mind leaving for some more quality time with Taehyung, and he happily agrees. The both of you sneak out of the crowd, stumbling back into the yurt, giggly and giddy like you’re still teenagers trying to be stealthy at midnight. Taehyung kisses you silly and soon, your back is hitting the mattress. He almost rips your dress with how hastily he tries to tear it off your head and you’re stuck for a moment until you manage to get it off. But in spite of how childish your antics are or how Taehyung blows raspberries on your tummy, each one of his touches is intimate and loving. He holds your hips down and eats you out until you cum twice. Then you’re flipped onto your stomach with him on top of you — his cock is dug into your pussy, every draw and thrust delicious. Your walls pulse along his length and you moan his name and clutch the sheets with tight fists. You relish in the pressure of his body pressed on top of yours as he pounds into you. It only takes a few minutes before he’s releasing into your womb, cumming hard enough that you feel it too. He rolls off of you, spent, but you gather your energy and hold him down for a second round. You’re a woman on a mission and you’re going to make sure you leave this resort with Kim Taehyung’s baby inside of you.

[Day Five] The final day of the resort has arrived much to your dismay, and you feel sad enough to cry. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.” “It’s our pleasure.” Hyunjin grins, her arms wrapped around Jimin’s. “We just hope you had a great time at our resort.” “Yes, I really loved it.” “Our doors are always open,” Jimin affirms. “If nothing’s stuck, you can always come back or if you’re ever looking for more siblings for the little one, you can come again too. We’re happy to welcome anyone that’s family back.” You’re moved by their words and much to Taehyung’s dismay, you give a brief embrace to each of them. You also manage to see the newlywed couple, Hoseok and Rose, who are still smiling and somehow look even more in-love than when they arrived. Dahyun and Seokjin, as well, wish you luck on your adventures. “We might be coming back real soon.” The woman sighs, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “That husband of mine is planning to book another trip next month.” “So soon?” Dahyun nods with a long exhale. “I think he’s hoping I’m not pregnant so we can come here again.” Your laugh spurs on her own and you’re able to resonate with the hopelessness of husbands. Everyone is boarding the same bus, but this is the last opportunity to gather when people are getting dropped off from different places. So you make sure to savour the moment, get your last goodbyes in, and Taehyung pulls out his phone to snap several pictures of you for keepsakes. Then, the two of you board the bus with your luggage and settle in your seats. “You know,” you pipe up and Taehyung turns to you. “Even if we didn’t conceive, it was still fun.” He smiles while taking his hand. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Taehyung laces his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder as he, too, leans his head on top of yours. The bus pulls out of the lot and onto the road. Jimin and Hyunjin wave with brilliant grins, and together, you and Taehyung watch the little resort become a particle in the distance.

[Epilogue] This is terrible. Unexpected and spontaneous. “I have bad news.” You’re leaning against the door frame of Taehyung’s office and at your tone of voice, your husband looks away from the computer screen with wide eyes. “Are you divorcing me?” “No.” “Did you lose your job?” “No.” His entire body deflates in a sigh of relief and he leans back, hands grasping the armrests of his swivel chair. “Thank god because I just bought those new shake weights that were shown on TV.” “Yea— wait. What?” Taehyung’s bubbling laughter comes from his chest. “What is it?” He doesn’t notice the stick in your hand, so you throw it at him. Luckily, Taehyung’s reflexes are still in good shape and he claps his hands together, catching the stick before it hits his head. But then his brows furrow in confusion. “You’re probably going to need to wash your hands after that. I peed on it.” He doesn’t answer. Your oblivious husband instead takes a long second to inspect the stick and his pupils dilate. He finally realizes what it is and looks carefully. In the meanwhile, you hitch your breath, feeling unsettled. But then the most enormous smile stretches into his cheeks. It almost looks like his smile is about to break his face. “You’re pregnant,” Taehyung murmurs. “I sure am.” He looks at you. And then the stick. Then he looks at you again. Taehyung searches your expression in alarm as your words echo back to him. “Why is this bad news? D-did you change your mind? Do you not want kids?” You shake your head. “No. This is fantastic news. I just wanted an excuse to go to the retreat again.” He laughs and exhales a long breath. Taehyung scoots his chair over using the heels of his feet and comes to you. He throws his arms around your torso in a secure embrace while his ear is pressed gently to the flat plane of your stomach that’ll soon swell in the coming months. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.” Taehyung’s brown eyes are lit with mirth and you ease into his hug as your fingers comb through his dark locks. Finally, you’re going to be parents. After waiting and hoping for so long, it was now on the horizon. There’s a sense of fear in you both, but you’re overwhelmed with euphoria and excitement. “We can always go back for the next kid.” “I haven’t even had this one yet and you’re already thinking of another.” “I can’t help it.” Taehyung grins, looking up at you and you lean down to kiss his smile. You have a feeling this baby’s going to be loved beyond belief.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fluff #FINALLY i can use the smut tag again looooool #BTS TAEHYUNG AS A SWEET GUY WHO'S NOT AS SWEET IN THE SHEETS #AND OC AS A GRUMBLING SIMP FOR HER HUSBAND

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! Your answer to that last request absolutely ruined me (in the best way possible)

If you'd like to leave it completely ambiguous that's fine, but I was wondering about an Impulse POV of what goes through his mind when he wakes up and sees Tango? Depending on whether the game ends immediately after that, whether him and Brody have to do something extra to end the game, or if you want to go full bad ending and have the game carry on in that broken state forever.... It could be very different each way, but I'd certainly love to read that aftermath if you would enjoy writing it (because obviously I'm not in enough pain already :D /s)

this is a sequel to this one :D very glad that two of my favourite requesters liked it enough to ask for a follow up!

I also love my Patented Vaunna Uncertain Endings (as Shade put it lol) bc it leads to at least one person yelling at me and at least one follow-up request demanding to know what happens (/pos ofc i love all you guys’ requests)

also yes i’m so sorry Raven i only just realised i wasnt following you asdfghjkl i thought i already was

…

Impulse opens his eyes. Letting out a groan, he sluggishly pushes himself into a sitting position. His head feels like it’s being clamped in a vice, but he has enough wits to register the scene in front of him.

Tango is lying in a pool of blood just a foot away from him, arm outstretched towards him as if trying to reach him.

He can’t stop staring at his best friend’s body. Tango is clearly dead, and Impulse remembers causing it. So why hasn’t the game ended? It should have ended when Brody killed Endless, but it didn’t. Now the only two people left on the ship are the two imposters. There’s literally nothing else that can be done to end the game, except…

Impulse glances down at Tango’s tablet, then at the upload panel. At this point, he’ll do anything to end this game, even if it means losing.

So he picks up Tango’s tablet, ignoring the almost painful tingle shooting through his hand. The game’s code is uncomfortable with him picking up a crewmate’s tablet. And even though he can’t see the screen, he knows what the last task is. So he hopes that the game will let him complete it. There shouldn’t be any protocols in place to stop this; after all, when would an imposter EVER want to do a crewmate’s task?

“What are you-?” comes Brody’s voice suddenly.

Impulse turns to find Brody freezing at the sight of Tango’s body.

“We’re the only two left,” Impulse confirms. “We gotta finish the last task, even if it means we lose. Otherwise we might be trapped here forever.”

Brody slowly nods. He and Impulse are in an odd state; the imposter bloodlust is slowly starting to wear off, leaving him with an uncomfortable mixture of satisfaction and horror at the sight of his old friend’s dead body.

“I think I might throw up,” he groans, turning away and doubling over, hands pressed to his stomach.

Impulse just keeps going with the task, his heart starting to beat faster. He hopes this will work. If it doesn’t…

...he can’t think about that.

As the upload finishes, he squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath.

He feels something shift around him…

…and when he opens his eyes, he finds himself back in the lobby.

But only one other person is there with him.

Impulse and Brody slowly look around the room, registering their situation, before simultaneously meeting each other’s gaze.

“This is really bad,” says Brody after a moment, stating aloud what they’re both thinking.

Impulse nods, trying and failing to suppress the feeling of cold terror rapidly growing in his stomach. “Y-Yeah. Where are our friends and why aren’t they here?”

Recalling Etho teaching him how to access the code, Brody pulls up the admin screen. Impulse anxiously watches him tap away at it.

“Is it possible to go back to that exact game?” he asks hesitantly.

“I think so. Gimme a sec.”

After a tense few minutes, an open doorway appears in the side of the lobby. Through it, Impulse can see the Skeld cafeteria.

“I’ve altered your code slightly so you should be able to see and hear ghosts,” Brody says. “Go see if you can find out where our friends are. I’ll stay here and make sure you don’t get trapped there.”

Impulse takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Good luck, my friend.”

“I’m gonna need it.”

Impulse carefully steps through the door, half expecting it to vanish behind him. But to his relief, it doesn’t.

Where the heck is he supposed to start?

After a moment, Impulse goes into admin. But the admin table tells him nothing except his own location. Next, he rushes over to security. Again, however, the cameras yield nothing useful.

Time for Plan C.

“SKIIIIIIIIIZZ!” Impulse shrieks, running madly through the hallways. “TANGOOOO! ETHOOOOOOOOOO!”

For a worrying minute or so, there’s no replies at all.

Then…

“Impulse!”

He skids to a halt in the hallway between weapons and shields, his head automatically snapping round to face the direction he heard the voice yell his name from.

That’s when he sees two ghosts flying towards him from navigation. “Tango! Etho!”

“Impulse, you can see us?!” yelps Tango. “And hear us?!”

Impulse nods. “Yeah! Oh my gosh, a-are you two okay? I’m so sorry!”

“This isn’t your fault, Impulse,” Etho says firmly. “You were just playing the game. And don’t worry, I’ve managed to save everyone else.”

“What?” Impulse’s heart skips a beat. “How?”

“I was able to access their code and send them back to their respective servers. Skizzle, Joker, Astro, Mrs Tango, Endless, and Evil are all safe.”

“Oh, thank God,” breathes Impulse. “What about you two?”

“I couldn’t manage to access Hermitcraft’s code,” Etho responds. “So I couldn’t send us back there. I think it’s something to do with the firewalls X put up a few years ago.”

“Damnit. What’s going on, Etho? Why’re there so many glitches?”

“I don’t know. But if we get out of this alive, we should definitely give this game a break for a while until it’s fixed.”

“I’ll second that,” Tango mutters. “But wait, how did you get here?”

“Brody managed to open a door here from the lobby. Oh, wait! Maybe you can come through it with me!”

He takes the ghosts to the cafeteria, where the doorway to the lobby is still shimmering.

“Brody, I found Tango and Etho,” Impulse reports to his friend. “Everyone else is safe. Can they come through the doorway?”

Brody hesitates. “They should be able to. Come through first, quickly.”

Impulse goes through the door again and turns back to face his friends.

“Will it be safe for us to come through in ghost form?” Tango asks nervously.

“Ah…” Brody grimaces. “It should be fine.”

Tango is not encouraged by his friend’s tone. “Are you sure?”

“I’m not,” admits Brody. “The likelihood that the game will either glitch or not let you through and delete you forever is worryingly high, but… I think this is the only way. If we don’t give it a go, you’ll be stuck in this weird purgatory forever.”

Tango shoots a glance at Etho, who’s gazing at the doorway anxiously, and makes a quick decision. “I’ll try it first. Then you’ll know if it’s safe for Etho or not.”

“What?” Etho glances sharply at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. 100%. I’m terrified outta my mind right now, but there’s no way I’m watching you go through that thing and disappear forever. No way in hell.”

Not daring to meet Etho’s eyes, Tango turns to the doorway and takes a deep breath.

“Tango, wait.”

Tango pauses and turns back to his friend. “Yeah?”

After a moment, Etho grabs him in a hug. “If we never see each other again, I want you to know that I’ve cherished every second with you and I’m honoured to call you my friend.”

Tango blinks, a lump rising in his throat. “D-Don’t. You’re gonna make me cry.” But he hugs his friend back. “I love you, buddy.”

Finally, he releases Etho and turns to look at Impulse through the doorway. Their gazes meet and Tango sees his own fear reflected in Impulse’s eyes.

“See you on the other side,” he says, his voice cracking audibly. “One way or another.”

With that, he steps through the doorway.

#friday night stabby #tangotek #impulsesv #brodyman #etho #vaunna’s requests

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Dark Side Of The Moon Ch. 2 - Dark! Loki x Reader

Chapter 2: “On The Run”

Chapter Summary: Even though you can’t help feeling drawn to the lunatic that looks like your deceased lover, you try to surpress your feelings and flee to find your friends.

Warnings: Loki is fucking crazy, Violence, Torture, Jotun! Loki, Mentions of Death, Abuse, Unhealthy Relationship, Mentions of Rape

Words: 3360

[Story Masterlist]

Masterlist to my other works right ->Here<-

“And the shark, it has tears,

And they run down its face.

But the shark lives in the water -

So the teardrops one can’t see.”

- Rammstein - Haifisch

Taglist: @winterglcw @commonintrest @emmojoy @satansbra @just-someone-who-likes-to-write

“She died through my hands.”

That sentence replayed over and over in your head, forming a continuous loop as you silently formed those words with your own lips.

“It’s not him!” you called out to yourself, since your reason had seemingly disappeared ever since you first saw the person that was a perfect copy of the man you once loved.

You were rolling around on the bare floor, shivering as you softly punched your head to not get lost in thought again. The emperor didn’t even have the basic decency to give you any clothes back, only having the Citauri throw you into an old dungeon to keep you prisoner - or whatever he’d plan to do with you.

That man was so different of your Loki.

And the timeline both of you were currently in had exceeded your worst expectations, making you wonder if fate just wanted to torment you.

In this universe, Thanos never even got so far as to collect all of the Infinity Stones. Loki Laufeyson had won the battle of New York and took over this world, then somehow double-crossed and killed the Titan. So right now, he possessed the power of the Tesseract, as well as the Cascet of Ancient Winters. For what reason he kept that Jotun relic was unknown, probably out of nostalgic sentiment you assumed.

Afterwards, the God of Mischief had killed his brother Thor in bad blood, as well as torturing Natasha - the exact way he threatened her back in your world, when he was in his cell. Clint was still his servant, as it seemed. You had seen him when they took you to his cell.

He couldn’t get rid of all the Avengers, however - even though their current location was unknown. They were in hiding for many years now, probably trying to get their hands on the other Infinity Stones.

Also noticeable was the fact that this universe had neither Hela, nor Captain Marvel - so one good and one bad thing to compensate for each other. Not that they’d be a match for Loki in his current form anyway...

And there was no Dr. Strange on this version of Earth, your last bit hope to escape disappearing as you learned about this fact.

That much was all you had learned by now, mainly through tricking and manipulating some of your guards into giving you information.

All in all, you only knew for sure was that this world’s Loki was a terribly trong, murderous sociopath, intoxicated by power and loneliness.

And you had become the focus of the little emotion left in him.

It was hard trying to surpress all the voices and memory submerging in your mind. So there was nothing left for you except for rolling up into a ball, lying on the cold floor as you prepared to be washed over with sadness and guilt once again.

_____

“Would you help me recieve the greatest honor by becoming mine and mine only, Lady Y/N?”

How could you ever forget this moment?

Back on the Asgardian refugee ship, your Loki had asked you that very question, now popping up in your mind once again.

Every detail was still as bright as daylight, preserved deep into your heart.

You clearly remembered the small, green box he had summoned out of thin air, presenting you a plain but still incredibly beautiful ring. The golden piece of jewlery formed a snake eating itself - a symbol of infinity and wholeness.

It was just his way of being thoughtful.

“I-I prepared this a while go, to be precize...but I never thought of being worthy” he had stammered and you found yourself speechless, admiring that very scene playing in front of your eyes. “A-Anyway, after all that happened, I realized that all moments I spent happy, were when I was with you. I don’t want to lose you again, Y/N! And I feared, well...that it might be too late to ask someday.”

It was most unjust that this most blissful moment would be interrupted by a great rumbling shaking through the whole spaceship - and even before Thor would crash Loki’s proposal, both of you were aware just what kind of danger you would have to face soon:

Thanos.

Your numbers had already been decimated by Ragnarok, all that’s left being some civilian refugees, injured and traumatized. The only ones capable of fighting left were Loki, Thor, Heimdall, you and the Hulk.

Yet all of your struggles were to no avail, only able to watch and scream and bag at the Titan, so he’d at least spare those innocent lives as he mercilessly slaughtered woman and children alike.

“Fucking monster!” Pulling out a gun, your mind went completely blank as you gave it some last, desperate attempt to save or avenge just anyone.

No bullet would even come close enough to pierce his skin, as Ebony Maw would deflect them to hit yourself and people close to you. “I’m not the only one you should see responsible for this outcome” Thanos scoffed.

“What do you mea-” Your voice got swallowed by a pained groan as you saw Loki, kneeling in front of Thanos and revealing the one thing he was after:

The Tesseract.

“You......took it?!?” The only thing managing to escape your throat was a high-pitched yell as Loki’s face contorted in disappointment and regret - just now realizing that he had put you all in danger.

They would’ve never went after you if it wasn’t for him. He had doomed his race, failed you and what was left of his family.

“How could you put us all in danger?! I thought you had changed! You swore it with your life, Loki! That you loved me more than you desired power!”

No answer.

Instead, the god would prepare one of his speeches, directing words of undying fidelity at Thanos and his arms. And even though it was meant to be lies, a play to make the threat feel save, every single word hit your heart like knives.

“How could I ever marry someone like you?!” feeling as if Loki most recent, selfish act was suffocating you, you could only whisper - yet he understood very clearly, the facade dropping in an instant. “I-I hate you...traitor...”

If only you knew that those would be the last words you’d ever direct at him...

Loki materializes a dagger, desperately trying to make up for his biggest mistake yet, and at least save you, the light of his cursed existence, and the only thing he had ever done in his life full of wrongs.

But Thanos looked right through the charade from the very beginning, using the stones to trap Loki in their hold - and then, grabbing the god’s throat.

“You have what you want, Thanos!” Thor tried to bargain, “There’s even less than half of my race left. Please, just let us go!”

“Oh, I will” he spoke stony, then shifting his attention to the god in his hands. “But first, I’ll do you a favor and erase that disgraceful pest all of you were too weak to take care of.”

As he was struggling for air, gasping uncontrollably as he tried to free his neck from the Giant, Loki’s glare wandered to you - and when your eyes met, both of your hearts skipped a beat.

He smiled. In the face of death, the last thing he wanted you to remember was the good things after all.

And seeing the ring on your finger, how couldn’t he? Loki knew you were about to say yes - and knowing this was more than enough for someone like him.

After all, the God of Mischief was used to happiness being taken away from him as soon as he thought it to be okay to open up to someone.

But you were safe. That’s all that counted for him!

It was like his eyes were telling you “It’s gonna be alright. I’m sorry, Y/N...I love you.”

You don’t remember much after that, having a mental breakdown as you had to watch the love of your life perish - and forever thinking about how you had turned him down just seconds before.

A part of you had died with him back then.

_____

The creaking sound of the cell’s door made you jump from your dream - but the person which entered was one you had never seen before.

A monster.

It’s silhouette very much resembled Loki, yet his skin was painted in a dark shade of blue, with thin linings carved across his whole body. He had fangs and even horns coming out of his temple to add at that.

The beast’s eyes were shining in a threatening red, glistering contrastful in the dark hallway. But the worst were those black irises, absent of any form of compassion - there seemed to be only rage, confusion and hate.

“Fuck!” you screamed, terrified and fearing for your life. Shuffling until your back hit the wall of a corner of the room, you defendingly put your arms in front of yourself. “Go away! Don’t to-ouch me!”

Loki cleared his voice as he put the Casket away, not making any efforts to revert his outer appearance back to ‘normal’. He had admired it on his way to your cell, like he’d do many times a day when he was reminiscing about the day he learned about his heritage...

...and how he had killed Odin, his adoptive father, with that very relic, afterwards clearing the universe of that despiseful race of the Jotunn - making him the last of his kind.

“Oh my” a dark voice finally declared, “Seems like ‘your’ Loki never dared to show you his true form. Pathetic.”

No, that wasn’t completely true. Your lover had at least told you back then. But when did you ever have the time to talk things over and heal, being dragged from one fight to another?!

The Jotunn felt great joy as he towered over you, gleefully watching your naked body cowering to his knees, covered in goosebumps and shaking heavily. Your breath was clearly visible while you tried to cover your shame as best as you could, wary glare never leaving the abomination that was just lurking right in front of you.

“Wha- OUCH!” you hissed as the Frost Giant took ahold of your wrist, monitoring the pain spreading across your face as his touch would frostburn any skin he was touching with ease.

Loki grinned menacingly as he let go off of you, admiring his handywork as the first layer of your skin had already died, crumbling away to reveal your pink flesh.

“Oh, how I missed that” he explained, much to your surprise ripping a piece of his own clothing apart to cover the wound with it. “Your kind is so easily broken. It’s always fascinating to watch.”

“Just kill me already, you freak!”

Well, Loki had in fact spent hours after hours thinking about how to handle you, and yet he couldn’t decide. Obviously he would’ve killed you right away if it was otherwise, but he still had a soft spot for you somewhere deep in his heart, after all.

And it upset him more than he’d ever admit. So he tried to assert his dominance, to ease the feeling of weakness and loss of control.

“I’m only doing you a favor, woman.” The god would touch your cheek, making you flinch away - but this time, it wouldn’t hurt. Never would he dare to scar this most beautiful face!

“The man you loved was just the same as me, yet it seemed he wasn’t completely honest with you. What you are seeing right now is the form of a Frost Giant...the monstrosity you chose to love.”

“L-Loki…”

It was no surprise that he saw tears filling the rim of your eyes - yet out of a whim, you pulled your arms around his neck, tears wetting his robe. He gasped, unable to act in any way as he stiffened in the pose.

That was by far not the reaction he had been expecting - and he surprised you as well. You had thought him to instantly shove you away, beat you agaib or even bite - but he just kneeled there, not daring to make a move.

"Why?” Now his voice was much softer, pained even. “I’m a monster. I hurt you. So why?”

“I’m so sorry” you whimpered, words being interrupted by heavy sobbing. “I try to fight it, I really do. But I just can’t, I-I”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“How could I be? It’s you, Loki...no matter what you look like.” Eventually, you’d face him again, wiping the tears out of your face when for another moment, you made yourself forget that this was a completely different person. “I was just surprised, that’s all. Letting me see this form out of nowhere...”

“Y/N, I’m not the same as him” he retorted, knowing very well what it’s like to lose oneself in daydreams and illusions to ease the pain of loss. His sight wandered around the room instead of your face, stating “I did horrendous things, dear. Tormented and killed countless. It’s unforgiveable.”

“So did he” you stated, even though you knew those two Loki’s couldn’t be compared. “And you should already know: I feel dead inside, ever since he died.”

“You really loved him, didn’t you?” When you nodded confidently, Loki sighed ashamed, reluctantly touching your wrist again. A warm magic would flow through you, healing the wound in no time. “I wish she had felt the same for me...”

For a while, both of you were plainly sitting in uncomfortable silence, with Loki even lending you his cloak to warm yourself up.

“It’s not him” you told yourself once again. “It’s not him. It’s not him. IT’S NOT HIM!!! That man is dangerous and instable. He can’t be trusted!”

And then, finally, you dared asking, cutting through the thick air:

“What exactly happened to me, in this world?”

Loki’s face contorted in agony, rubbing his face as if in deep pain. “Is this really necessary? I already told you. She died because of me.”

“More details would be nice” you retorted bluntly, not really caring if he was to have a violent outburst again. Curiosity got the better of you at that moment.

The emperor’s voice was low and husky, and just now you realized how damn tired he looked - with dark rings under his eyes, and more pale than you had ever remembered him.

The weight of his sins sure had taken a stroll on that sensitive man.

"I saw the ring” he uttered deeply affected, “That’s something I could only dream of. Thinking about it, I think she never really loved me in the first place. Or maybe she just grew tired of my lies. Understandable, I have to admit...”

“Yes, it was quite the opposite, even” he continued after a long, strained breath of his. “She hated me. Joined the Avengers and tried to kill me, several times. Only years later I learned about the truth: Already far in the past, back on Asgard, she betrayed me. After I fell off the Bifrost, she thought myself dead - and consoled herself by bedding my brother. I had to kill him, I-I-I just had to!”

Loki’s hands were shaking so frantically you could feel it from over there, mad eyes darting over your physique to take in your reaction. “After they finally lost, I took her prisoner. Seven months of trying to make her mine, no matter the methods. Mind-controlling her would not be satisfying. So I tortured her, played games with her sanity, and- I’d rather not speak about how else I violated her.”

“You, wha-” Now you were the one shivering in horrid anticipation, “You raped me...?”

No answer. Instead he just finished this disastrous story.

“One day, I went to her cell like I always did. I hoped once her mind was broken she’d stop struggling to be mine. But she never did. You Y/N’s are quite the fighters, as it seems.”

“Wha- wwhat happened to me...I mean, ‘her’?”

A loud whine escaped his vocal cords as he hit the wall right next to your face, making you suck in a pained breath.

“She used her chains to hang herself. There was nothing I could do. Ever since then I knew I’m cursed to inflict pain on anything I hold dear.”

"D-Don’t give me that self-pitying bullshit” you wanted to shout at his face - but the cramping in your heart as well as the hyperventillation made talking impossible.

How could one do something like that to a person they claimed to love?!

“Go” you whimpered, already shuffling away from him and he could hear anguish and fear drop out of every vocal, and he realized you were having a panic attack. “Please!”

Loki closed his eyes, letting out one last, deep sigh. He knew he owed you that much.

“Very well.”

That whole night, you spent crying and screaming to your hearts avail, unable to process your current situation and newfound knowledge.

So that would be your life from now on? Being hurt mentally and physically, frostburnt and hurt and violated against your will - all while looking at a face that remembered you of happier days?

Never!

Things were just like that evil Loki said: You are a fighter!

And if you couldn’t help that crazy man, you would at least help yourself! The Avengers are still out there, somewhere. You needed to escape and help them!

How could you have been so blind all those years?

Loki - your Loki - would have never wanted to you give up. He’d want you to survive and live your life to it’s fullest, trying to make the best out of everything you’ve got.

Just like he always did. That much you had learned from him.

“I’m sorry, Loki. If I die, I can’t even remember you...I love you…”

Breaking out succeeded faster than you could ever think it would take - because when you’d finally get out of your fetal courl and wandered across the cell, you realized Loki didn’t properly close the heavy steel door back when he rushed away from you.

“It’s not him. There’s no helping that man. I have to find my friends, I-”

Still shocked and scared and traumatized, you didn’t even realize that someone was watching you, not even questioning that the hallways were oddly empty.

You sneaked out of an open window, bare feet feeling the morning dew as you shook away Lokis cloak and ran as fast as your feet could carry you.

There was it - the fence.

No one could tell you what kind of world would await you outside of that property as you swiftly avoided some guards, rushing through the all so beautiful garden.

But as soon as you reached out to climb the railing, you felt someone balling a fist in your hair, harshly holding you back and causing you to stumble and fall.

“I thought you to be different…” an all too familiar voice grumbled. Loki didn’t even want to hear any apology or excuse, kicking your guts so heavily that you had to throw up, cramping on the ground.

“Don’t you dare to run away ever again!” he now yelled furiously, "She tried it too...so damn.many.times…!”

But before you could even respond, he suddenly began to cry uncontrollably. “I thought you would stay. Do you think I like to do this?!”

His voice was laced with grief and regret, yet he kept on forming countless bruises on your body. “Why can’t you fucking love me, hel?!”

You didn’t know how long his violent crying fit lasted, with him weeping as he let off some steam on your helpless self.

There was no trace of the hurt, regretful man left you talked to in your cell earlier. After being finished, having reclaimed a fraction of composure, Loki pressed your face in between his hands, ripping on your mangled body to face him.

“Fate gifted me another chance to possess you, Y/N. And I will form you into a magnificent pet, I promise.”

_______

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#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki x Y/N #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki Friggason #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #Marvel #Disney #Asgard #Midgard #Writing #Fanfiction #Self Insert #tw abuse #tw violence

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thatringboy · 3 years ago

Note

Ganqing getting together Idol au? (Extra: Hanahaki disease and angsty, only if you want. Otherwise, fluff or angst or whatever is fine.)

Just idol au with genshin characters, doesn't have to be anything in particular

ohmygods this one took so long to write and it was so worth it! love me some good angst and hanahaki disease up in this house!!!

Glaze Lilies in my Throat

Warnings: Hanahaki Disease, Blood, Hospitals

Characters: Keqing, Ganyu, Ningguang, Beidou

Ships: Gangqing, Background Beiqquang if you squint

Word Count: 12,758 (FIVE pages of google docs!)

Summary: Idol!Keqing finds herself falling fast and hard for her fellow dancer, Ganyu, but her pride keeps her from admitting her feelings. Until the petals in her throat start taking a toll on her career

The first time the purple haired girl noticed the petals, she just thought that they had fallen off of a bouquet she had received from a fan. Keqing assumed her throat was sore from the show she had completed, so she popped a cough drop in her mouth and quickly changed to head to dinner with the other girls in the group.

The restaurant they were at wasn’t anything too fancy, just a small hole in the wall place for their group, the Qixing, to meet up. The group’s center, Ningguang, knew the owner and was able to order milkshakes for everyone for free.

It was a pleasant outing. Keqing sat near the window side of the booth the women shared and quietly sipped her vanilla milkshake while the other members of the group discussed their performances. Ganyu slid into the seat next to her and pushed a straw into her own chocolate shake.

“Is everything alright? You look lost in thought, Miss Keqing.”

There was a sudden tightness in her throat, or something became lodged in her airways because Keqing began to cough into her elbow. “My apologies, I was just staring off into space. I am quite alright.”

Ganyu gave her a pleasant smile that made heat rise in her cheeks before turning to the rest of the group to join their conversation. Keqing quickly looked away and her eyes fell to her lap where the blue petals had fallen off of her sleeve. They were identical to the petals she had seen earlier that evening. Keqing was no fool, she instantly recognized what had brought the flowers and her eyes shifted back to Ganyu, who was laughing at Ningguang and her chocolate moustache.

She brushed the petals onto the floor with a cold expression. Out of sight, out of mind.

The petals plagued Keqing for a few more months after that night. They always appeared when Ganyu was near her, but all the idol did was tuck them away and began keeping a handkerchief on her person for when the blood started to come up with the flowers. She became used to the tightness of her throat and dryness of her mouth that accompanied her beating heart when Ganyu would clasp her hand between those slender fingers and stare at her with those large eyes. Everytime Keqing thought she would collapse from exhaustion, Ganyu would be there to pick her up and tell her to keep going. How could she not fall for such kindness?

After the petals began appearing, Keqing only allowed herself to be alone with Ganyu once in fear of making her feelings known. It was after a particularly long dance rehearsal and the other women left before they did. As they were cleaning up the practice room, a small photo fell out of Ganyu’s bag.

Keqing moved to pick it up, turning the paper over in her fingers. In the photo was a baby Ganyu sitting on the lap of an elegant woman with blue eyes and had her hair pinned up by an eerily familiar flower.

“Who is this woman?”

Ganyu glanced over at the picture. “My, that’s an old picture. I’ve told you how I was adopted as a child, right? That woman was my adoptive mother, Guizhong.”

“Was?” Keqing handed the photo back.

“Yes, was. She was a botanist who loved flowers. That one in her hair is a species she selectively bred for years before perfecting them. We called them ‘Glaze Lilies’. She was killed in a hit and run when I was twelve.”

So the flowers have a name. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Ganyu gave her a sweet smile. “Don’t be, she’s always with me, I can feel her guiding me.”

Keqing turned away before the blush could overtake her face and swallowed down the petals in her mouth. So cute!

The first time a blue bud appeared was during a meeting with her manager and Ningguang, who was also the owner of the group. Keqing shifted uncomfortably in her chair as the manager and albino woman looked over a report of her performances.

Ningguang cleared her throat. “Keqing, you know how much we love to have you in the group…”

Keqing felt the familiar tightness in her throat. She sat still and tried to swallow it down as Ningguang continued.

“However, your ratings have been going down recently. You have been leaving rehearsals early, and we’ve noticed the quality of your performances is suffering.”

Slowly, Keqing reached into the pocket of her skirt for a handkerchief as she felt the petals rise back up. Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic.

The manager made a sad face. “Keqing… if things don’t change, then we may need to replace you. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are now, I really don’t want to do this, but if you can’t put your previous energy into this work then maybe we need to go separate ways.”

Panic.

“No, no, I can do it!” Opening her mouth to protest was a bad idea. As soon as the words spilled from her lips, she doubled over in a fit of coughs, the scent of blood filling the room. Something larger than her usual petals dislodged itself from her throat and fell onto the floor between her and her bosses.

An unbloomed Glaze Lily pod with specks of blood tainting the innocent color bounced on the carpet and rolled next to Ningguang’s foot. She looked at Keqing’s face in horror. “Keqing…”

The purple haired girl got to her feet, covering her mouth with the tiny piece of fabric and bowed quickly, moving towards the door. “I-I’m sorry, I promise to get to practice on time and I will get my ratings back up!”

She only took two steps before falling to her knees in another fit of coughing. This time it was two pods, one halfway blooming. Ningguang called for the manager to call an ambulance before rushing to Keqing’s side, rubbing a soothing hand across her back.

The next few hours were a blur. Keqing barely remembers an ambulance arriving, being carted away with a tube down her throat, a couple doctors examining her before letting her rest. When she became coherent, Keqing was able to sit up despite the oxygen tube in her nose and became aware of a doctor waiting for her.

“Miss Keqing, how are you feeling?”

She opened her mouth to talk, but it was the most sore it had ever felt. She tapped her neck to let the doctor know her speech status. He nodded and produced a pen and pad for her to write on.

“I feel terrible, but not like I’m about to die.”

He read over the paper. “Are you aware of what The Hanahaki Disease is?”

“Of course.” She penned down.

“How long have you been in this predicament?” His calm eyes went back to the pad.

Keqing thought for a second before writing again. “Five months.”

“Five months.” He read outloud softly. “Do you know who brought the flowers to you?”

“No.” She lied. She had known from the very beginning, but a glance out of the glass window of the room’s door revealed that her entire group was anxiously waiting outside. There was no need to drag anyone else into her problem.

The doctor took a deep breath. “Miss Keqing, you are aware of what the removal of the flowers entails if you cannot find the person responsible for these feelings, correct?”

“Yes.” Loss of the memories of that person. From beyond the door, Ganyu peeked through the window with a worried expression. Behind her was Ningguang frantically pointing at her head with wide eyes and her lips in a thin, focused line. The doctor followed Keqing’s eyes to the door and as he did, Ningguang instantly stopped and went back to looking as regal as ever.

The doctor chuckled dryly. “You know, I can’t do my job if you lie to me.”

He got up and moved to let Ganyu into the room as Keqing began to scribble down words in a panic. The doctor opened the door and gestured to the chair beside the bed before shutting the door behind the other idol. Ganyu nervously sat down and Keqing stopped writing, not meeting her eyes.

Ganyu reached out to touch Keqing’s hand, but stopped. “We were all so worried when Miss Ningguang told us you had been hospitalized. I’m not sure what I would have done if something had happened--” She caught Keqing staring at her with wide eyes and silenced herself with the lightest shade of pink dusting her cheeks.

Keqing pulled her knees to her chest to have a hard surface to write on. “Did she tell you what I have?”

Ganyu shook her head. “No, but Miss Ningguang gave a weird look.”

Ah, the ever observant Ningguang and the blissfully unaware Ganyu. She scratched down another sentence. “There’s something I should probably tell you…”

Ganyu read the notepad, whispering the words to herself in that way that made Keqing fall harder and nodded. “I’m all ears, err, eyes?”

Keqing flipped to a new page. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and her hands shook a little. She was a fool for even considering having the flowers removed surgically. She held the pen over the paper and began writing everything down. From the night at the milkshake bar, the petals in her throat being the same kind of flowers Ganyu’s mother made, how Ganyu’s smile made her heart flutter and her stomach twist in a way that she never wanted to end. The flowers had stolen her voice, so she wrote it all, pouring her heart into every word like the disease would kill her that very night.

When she finished, Keqing quickly shoved the notepad to Ganyu and turned away with a red face, not wanting to see the other’s reaction to the written love confession.

Ganyu read every word slowly, tears pooling in her blue and purple eyes and blush burning her cheeks at the raw emotions before her. When she finished, she simply held out her free hand for the pen, which Keqing practically threw at her. She wanted her bedsheets to swallow her up like that scene from Nightmare on Elm Street.

The blue haired woman wrote something quickly and handed both the pen and pad back to Keqing. She took it and read over the short message left at the bottom of her confession.

“I feel the same way.”

In an instant, Keqing felt her throat open and she took a loud gulp of air, making Ganyu jump in surprise. Keqing began to laugh as she grabbed Ganyu’s wrist and pulled her onto the bed and into a tight hug. “Yes yes yes yes yes! I can finally breathe!”

She realized how close Ganyu’s face was to her own and let go quickly, the color returning to her face ten-fold. “Sorry about that.”

Ganyu remained sitting on the bed, covering her face in her own hands. “It’s fine, really!”

“Hah! What a couple of dorks!” Called a deep voice from the doorway.

The two on the bed snapped their heads towards the sound to see Ningguang grabbing the intruder, a tall burly woman with an eyepatch, by her ear and dragging her out of the room. “Out with you! I called you here to provide moral support, not gawk at my dancers!”

Ganyu giggled. “That’s Miss Beidou for you, I suppose.”

Keqing looked at the discarded notepad and those five words scrawled in neat handwriting.

“I feel the same way.”

Keqing is a woman of sound mind. She thinks through her actions and keeps to herself when situations do not concern her. She keeps her head down and doesn’t make rash decisions. So of course she surged forward to plant a kiss on Ganyu’s cheek before pulling back in horror of her own actions and covering her lips with her hand.

Ganyu turned red as her hand went up to touch the spot Keqing had kissed. “That was sweet, thank you.”

“You said on the paper that you feel the same way I do about you so I just thought--” Her panicked rambling was silenced by Ganyu moving closer to her and gently pulling her hands from her mouth with a nervous smile.

“I’m not very good with words like you, Miss Keqing, so sorry that my confession was so bland.”

Keqing blinked. “That’s what you’re caught up on?! And enough with the formalities, you just cured my Hanahaki Disease and saved me from getting fired!”

“Wait, fired? I thought Miss Ningguang pulled you into the manager’s office yesterday for tea… were you about to be let go?”

“Probably!”

Ganyu playfully poked Keqing’s oxygen tube in her nose. “Then the flowers did you a favor.”

“THEY WERE THE REASON I WASN’T PERFORMING WELL IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

The blue haired woman took Keqing’s hands again. “And now they’re gone, for good this time?”

Keqing blinked once more. “‘This time’? What do you mean, ‘this time’--!”

Ganyu panicked and surged forward to kiss her. Keqing, not believing what was happening, halted all protests and sunk into it, ignoring the plastic tube in her nose and letting the scent of vanilla fill her senses.

When they broke away, it felt like an eternity had passed, but it wasn’t long enough, so they kissed again, and again and again until they were panting for air and the doctor returned with an amused smile. All thoughts slipped from Keqing’s usually buzzing mind and she found herself only focusing on the woman before her; the one she cared so much about for so long that flowers bloomed in her throat. With Ganyu by her side, Keqing didn’t have a care in the world. With Ganyu by her side, Keqing knew she was going to be just fine.

#blip blip did anyone catch that potentially extra angsty line from ganyu before they started kissing?#but holy shit this was long #asks #genshin impact #genshin impact asks #writing requests #writing #requests #keqing #ganyu #keqing x ganyu #ganqing #angst #fluff #sfw

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needcake · 3 years ago

Text

whumptober 2021, day 3: taunting

The King of Northern Lusitania.

That was what his Marshal claimed to be now that he had taken the country without resistance.

France could barely conceal his disgust. The Marshal, standing by the window of a house he had confiscated from a noble family that had fled to Brazil along with the court, seemed to have forgotten for a moment that, although he had been appointed Ambassador to Portugal in the years before the invasion, he was far, far, from the succession line of the new country they would create after partitioning Portugal into three, and that this insubordination would not go unnoticed once the news of his claims reached Paris.

But this was a matter for another time. His last conversation with Spain before coming to Lisbon had left him with a persistent headache and his patience was wearing a little too thin.

“Is he here?” he limited himself to ask and the Marshal informed him that no, the man he wanted had been moved to another location after his last escape attempt. “Take me to him, then.”

He cared very little for the thoughts the Marshal was entertaining in his head as he stared at France, but the longer he went without complying to his order, the more France felt like breaking his nose.

At last a junior officer was called upon and he was taken down the street to an unmarked door, past the two soldiers posted at the entrance with their weapons on their shoulders, and up two flights of marble stairs. All the furniture and the ornaments in the house had been removed, every painting, every object on display, even the chandeliers. Of their existence, only the empty squares of faded color remained on the wallpaper.

The empty corridors echoed their footsteps and the young man guided him to a door at the far end, pulled a heavy keychain from his pocket and unlocked the door.

“I’ll have that now,” he told him and extended his hand. He hesitated, his eyes darting between France’s tight lips to the insignias in his uniform. He deposited the set of keys on France’s white gloves and stood at attention. “You can go wait downstairs now.”

He waited until the young officer had nodded and complied, his steps fading in the distance, before he breathed deeply in. The ache in his head was killing him.

The first thing he saw after he pushed the door open was Portugal’s furious green eyes, his body a shadow against the wall in the dark room.

“It’s a lovely day outside, you should open the curtains,” he said as he locked the door behind him. Portugal remained in silence, still glaring at him. France huffed a breath and walked to the window himself, throwing the curtains open and allowing light to enter the room. Portugal squinted at the sudden change in luminescence, but he soon glared at him again.

France allowed himself a small smirk.

“Do you remember when father dragged you back after your brilliant escape attempt while he was in the East? You looked at him like that too.”

“And he beat me,” Portugal said, his voice a little hoarse. From disuse, France presumed.

“Ah, yes,” he said lightly, unbuttoning his gloves. “Castile wouldn’t leave your bedside.”

“You said I deserved it.”

France held his gloves in one hand; looked at him in the eye. “You did.”

The growl that escaped his lips as he surged in his direction would have amused him were France not in such a terrible mood. Tackling him to the floor and twisting his arm behind his back took less effort now than when they were children.

He pressed his knee over his spine and Portugal stopped struggling, breathing hard into the wooden floorboards.

“You never learn, Ulterior,” he whispered above him, watching Portugal turn his head and snarl at him for the choice of name. “I’ll always win.”

“Get off me,” Portugal spat, but France only settled his weight more firmly down on him.

“You have always been too angry to be good at fighting, Portugal. Stop struggling before you hurt yourself.” He felt him breathe deeply a few times, but his body was still too coiled, still too tense for France to release him just yet.

He looked around the room and saw that it had been stripped bare of its ornaments as well. Only a few pieces of furniture remained.

“Father would have been disgusted with the way we treat our prisoners,” he commented out loud and felt Portugal shift beneath him.

“Stop calling Rome that,” Portugal said, but his voice was lower, his body less resistant.

“Why?” France asked, lowering his body over Portugal’s. “We’re sons of Rome, you and I. Us and the Italies are all that’s left.”

“Romania is still alive,” Portugal countered quietly, the fight finally draining from him, his fingers unclenching behind his back.

“That he is,” France whispered into his ear, brushed his lips against the soft cartilage and felt him shiver in his grasp. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him eventually.”

He released Portugal’s arm and felt his eyes on his back as he got to his feet and walked over to the bed.

“What was the nickname Castile had for you when we were kids?” he asked, sitting on the feather mattress, tucking his hair behind his ear. Portugal got up gingerly from the floor, dusted the knees of his simple cotton trousers.

“Lusi,” Portugal whispered, the word heavy in his mouth, laden with memories France did not know and did not care to know. He hummed, undoing the fastenings on his collar and breathing a little easier.

“Did you have a nickname for him as well?”

France followed Portugal’s eyes down his chest as he continued to undo the buttons of his uniform coat and smiled to himself.

“Dickhead,” Portugal told him and France snorted, undoing the buttons on his waistcoat next. “Yours was Asshole.”

He laughed, shrugging off his outer clothes and folding them carefully by his side, the pressure on his head somewhat subsided now that he had removed his heavy, hot uniform. Portugal’s eyes were trained on him, still standing a few feet away, still hesitant and wary.

“Come here,” he called, extending a hand towards him and watching with some amusement as Portugal’s face contorted into a frown. Huffing an impatient breath, he rose to his feet and went to him instead.

Portugal seemed somewhat smaller, dwarfed by a too big linen shirt and his simple brown cotton trousers. But his body was still the same as France remembered when he pulled him closer, his arms still strong and hardened by years at sea, his eyes still a pale shade of green when he looked at him.

“You are always so difficult,” he told him, settling his hands on the curve of his hips, watching his eyes as he looked down at France’s lips. “Always stubborn as a mule.”

His hands came to rest on his chest, neither to push him away nor to pull him closer, and France sighed, pushed his hair back over his shoulder, ghosted his fingers across his face.

“He is not going to come for you,” he said and Portugal’s eyes turned to his, the soft skin around them tightening slightly in worry. “England has what he wants now that Brazil’s ports are open to him.”

The hands on his chest gripped his shirt, but there was no more fight in them, no more blind, raging anger. “You’re lying,” Portugal whispered quietly, but his voice was thin, threadbare, doubt creeping into his words, taking hold of his thoughts.

“England doesn’t need you anymore,” he continued, petting his hair, caressing his cheekbones, his jaw, his ear. “But you already knew this, didn’t you?”

His fingers slackened, the last wall of his resistance crumbling under his words and France leaned in, brushed his lips against his. “Oh, Lusi,” he whispered, “Aren’t you tired of fighting?”

Portugal's mouth opened beneath his lips and France smiled, “Don’t you want to come home?”

Notes:

In 1807, French Marshal Jean-Andoche Junot led the French army across Spain to seize Portugal in November 30. When he reached Lisbon, however, he was able to see the tails of the ships that took the Portuguese royal family and the court across the Atlantic to Brazil, which effectively saved the Portuguese Empire from falling into Napoleon's hands, but caused them to lose the mainland territory.

After taking control of the country, Junot seized what was left of the Treasury and any wealth available that had been left behind in the escape. He also put in motion the partition of the territory as devised by Napoleon, which would divide Portugal into three, granting the Southern portion to Spain's PM, Manuel de Godoy, keeping the middle part for France itself and giving away the Northern part to the King of Etruria. Junot, however, who had been France's Ambassador to Portugal during 1804-05, decided to proclaim himself as King of Northern Lusitania. Napoleon was not amused.

As part of the agreement to help the royal family escape Napoleon, the Portuguese regent, future João VI, opened Brazil’s ports to British trade, which had suffered under Napoleon’s Continental System and US neutral policy. At the time, Portugal and her colonies were responsible for consuming around half of Britain’s exports. That trade was thus protected after being moved to Brazil, which in turn made the continental territory of Portugal redundant.

However, the partition of Portugal never took place because in May 1808, after trying to double-cross Spain and take control of the territory, the Spanish revolted and the Portuguese followed in June. In August, the British sent troops under the command of Arthur Wellesley, future Duke of Wellington, and the French were forced to leave Portugal in what would be the first of three attempts to take control of the country.

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #taunting #hetalia #fic #emotional manipulation #peninsular war #hws portugal #hws france #fraport #a wild fic appears #if you don't like france being a dick this is not for you #mild makeout

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wisherbysharlight · 4 years ago

Text

My God if I could only say, I'm holding every breath for you

Description: Patton Hart has been pining for his best friend's twin brother and his boyfriends for as long as he can remember. Word Count: 3067 Ships: Patton/Remus/Janus/Virgil, background Logince, established Remus/Janus/Virgil Warnings: Remus being Remus, twins squabbling AO3 This is a gift fic for @sunshineandteddybears for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange. The “summer romance” piece kinda got away from me, but this is definitely found family! I hope you enjoy!

Patton was wiping down the counters, about 15 minutes after closing, sunset shining through the windows as he hummed along to the radio, a sense of peace radiating through the store.

Of course, that’s when chaos erupted.

“Pattycakes, you gotta save me!” Remus cried as he threw the door open so roughly the windchimes actually smacked against the window above the door before falling back down and jingling merrily to announce his presence. He ran behind the counter with no hesitation, gripping onto Patton’s waist. (Patton only shivered because of the burst of adrenaline. That was the only reason. No other possibilities. Nope.) Remus angled them both towards the doorway just as Roman came bursting in with the same amount of urgency, fire in his eyes and shirt dripping wet and seemingly tinted a particularly garish shade of greenish-brown.

“Remus, you can’t hide behind Patton forever, you bastard!” he seethed, and Logan, Janus, and Virgil came through the door behind him, much more calm, almost to the point where Patton would call them bemused. Logan took a seat at one of the small tables along the wall, pulling out his phone with a very evident intention to simply wait the whole debacle out, while Janus and Virgil both leaned up against the glass case in front of Patton. “Get out here and face me, you coward!” Roman bellowed again, clearly not giving up anytime soon.

Patton grabbed an empty paper towel roll from next to him and turned at the waist to whack Remus in the head with it, “Remus you cannot use me as a human shield, go answer for your crimes.” “Kinky. I’d much rather have you issue my punishment,” Remus joked with an eyebrow wiggle, then cackled when Patton made a strangled noise and shoved him back to the other side of the counter. However, as soon as he was in range, Roman grabbed hold of him and pulled him into a headlock and his laughter turned swiftly into a shriek of “Oh shit!”

They were 12 years old, tearing through the woods in a dual-friend-group game of manhunt the summer before 7th grade. Virgil was hot on everyone’s heels and adrenaline was coursing through their veins. Patton leapt over a log and turned a corner, hunting for a good place to hide.

He heard a curse of “Oh shit!” echo through the woods before the sound of three branches breaking in succession, a huge crash, and a subsequent groan. He quickly pivoted and went sprinting back towards the house, and the sound, easily finding Remus splayed across the forest floor even in the dim light of the moon.

“Why would you climb a tree, silly goose? Don’t you know the branches are weak that high? Scared me half to death!” he chided as he fell to his knees beside him, already pulling band-aids out of his wallet in his pocket.

Remus grinned impishly up at him, and Patton felt his breath catch in his throat, fumbling with the wallet briefly in a way he prayed the other boy didn’t notice. “What’s a lil fear in the face of a bunch of excitement, Patty?” he crooned, and Patton shoved a handful of band-aids at him with little delicacy in his haste to move past the tease. “Besides, I have the best nurse in the world to patch me up when my fun does go south, apparently.”

Patton flushed and turned away, positive Remus could tell even in the weak light, but he couldn’t keep the earnestness out of his voice, “I’ll always patch you up, Ree. Promise.”

Remus didn’t get a chance to respond before Virgil burst through the bushes and tapped them both on the shoulder to get them out and a loud, extended debate began about the validity of the “injury time out”.

Janus leaned on the counter in front of Patton, jolting him out of his reverie. He pointed at the menu, with three shiny new additions at the bottom, “You finally manage to find a flavor sweeter than you, sugar?”

Virgil shoved him out of the way with an eye roll and a fond grin, thankfully distracting from how Patton felt his cheeks would melt the freezers. “He can’t stop flirting even for two seconds, I swear.”

Janus gasped dramatically, swooning against the counter and batting his eyes at Virgil like a starlet in an old black and white, “Maybe if you and Remus gave me the attention I deserve I wouldn’t need to hunt it down in beautiful, endearing ice cream shop owners.”

Remus snorted despite the way he was currently trying to claw his way out of his brother’s hold while being noogied like they were still teenagers and not fully grown and employed adults, “We could give you all the attention in the world, Janny, it would never stop you from flirting with Patton.”

Janus sniffed derisively at them, then cocked his head to the side as the song changed and smiled softly, “Hey, I know this song.”

Patton smiled brightly back, “Yeah of course, have it on all the playlists for the shop!”

“Simp!” Remus called over just as brightly, and Patton glared back at him, assuming it was aimed at him.

“Ok, you look miserable,” Janus said, making Patton jump from where he was staring down at his water glass watching the liquid swirl around the glass as he moved it in little circles and maybe lamenting his singledom a little bit in the face of a dance floor full of sappy teenagers in fancy clothes enjoying the crisp June night and each other as their last hurrah before graduation.

Patton plastered on a smile, “Oh Jan, I am perfectly hap-”

Janus arched a brow at him, tsking lightly and just loud enough for Patton to hear and stop speaking. “Don’t try to lie to me, I know what you look like when you are actually happy, Patton. And also you’re a god-awful liar.”

“...yeah ok. I’m a little bit lonely, maybe, with Ro and Lo gettin their dance on for the romantic stuff. But I’m not mad, they’re in love, and I told them to go hang on their own. We’ll hang out at the beach house after!” He couldn’t help but glance at the dance floor, where Logan was leading Roman in a waltz that was perfectly on time with the music, lost in their own little world.

“Well Ree and V bailed for the beach early. Not exactly their style of music or dancing, or my vibe to make them do something they don’t enjoy just to get my feet stepped on. Why don’t we be miserable together?” The song changed, to a song with a more Latin-inspired beat that Patton knew only one of every 10 words to, and Janus smirked, “Maybe you and I can even make the most of it and I can score a salsa partner.” Janus ended his proposition with an exaggerated wink and bow, and Patton took his offered hand with a genuine grin.

Janus didn’t miss a beat, switching eye contact to Roman on a dime, “Hey, did you know Remus was the one who’s been screwing with your guitar’s tuning?”

“NONONO HE’S LYING,” Remus cried as Roman tightened his hold and doubled down on his attack, this time poking at his ribs and making Remus shriek in laughter.

As Janus watched Roman wrestle Remus down to the floor of the shop, clearly satisfied with the reaction he managed to get, Virgil nudged him over with his hip to take his place leaning across the counter and whisper conspiratorially, “I bet it was actually Logan. Bastard can get away with murder, I just know it.”

Patton couldn’t help but giggle, with Virgil’s playful smile and dancing eyes across from him, so open and trusting in a way he never was unless it was just the group of them. He smirked a bit, nibbled at his lip in consideration, then leaned in to say in an equally conspiratorial style, “Logan’s only involved to see how long it’ll be before anyone catches on. My record stands.”

“You are a trickster Patton Hart,” Virgil gasped in mock-scandal. He wagged his finger with his hand on his hip in a not-half-bad impression of Patton during a lecture, though he was unable to match his Patton-ted Disappointed Frown while he was grinning, “I’d never expect my partner in crime to be doing something like this without telling me, shame on you. You know I always have your back.”

It was their last weekend of freedom before they started high school, and as per usual both twins had both their friends sleeping over. Patton woke before Logan and Roman, also as per usual, and snuck out of Roman’s room down to the kitchen, only to jolt as he found the light already on and Virgil sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Whatcha doin?” Virgil asked, legs kicking in the air in front of the cabinets lazily.

“Gonna try to make pancakes! I’m positive I won’t burn them this time, I just know it,” Patton enthused, then squinted suspiciously at Virgil, “What’re you doing?”

“Oh just hanging around, keeping an eye out in case anyone tries to burn the house down again so I can help out. Figured they might need a partner in arson crime, ya know, and I could let them know I’ve got their back,” Virgil teased, nudging Patton’s leg with a sock clad foot. He looked so precious with his sleep mussed hair and eyeliner from the night before smudged under his eyes that Patton couldn’t even bring himself to argue that he really didn’t need a babysitter. Honestly, he couldn’t even begin to pretend he didn’t want the excuse to spend more time with him.

The twins’ argument grew more heated, finally managing to distract Patton from where he was a bit lost in the way Virgil’s eyes lit up when he was amused.

“You fucked up one of my favorite shirts!” Roman screeched as he attempted to give his brother a wet willy.

“You put red koolaid in my shampoo two weeks ago, you baby!” Remus cried back, shoving at his shoulder to try to get him off, and succeeding rolling them only for Roman to roll them straight back.

“I know you were the one who put my script out of order,” Roman fired back.

“You should have been off book anyway! And you broke bro code and told Virgil I was the one who deleted his X-Files off the DVR. You are just as bad as me.”

“You gave mom’s computer a porn virus and blamed it on me!” Roman protested, and everyone else seemed to simultaneously sigh as they descended into their usual back and forth of dredged-up pettiness.

“Oh you're still - you squashed my bug collection.”

“You left me stranded in the yard after Remy’s homecoming party senior year.”

“That was absolutely justified, you made me listen to you wax poetic about Logan’s fucking lips for 3 hours.”

“You made me listen to you wax poetic about Patton’s EVERYTHING for 13 YEARS”

Everyone in the shop simultaneously went silent in a blink of an eye. Virgil went white as a sheet and swung to look at the twins with wide eyes, Janus gripped the counter white-knuckled and looked at Patton with a similarly stunned expression, and Remus turned nearly as red as the sash on Roman’s favorite Prince Charming costume. He shoved Roman off of him for real, a more severe growl to his voice as he seemed to realize there was no way to play it cool, “You are such a fucking dick!”

Roman stammered for a moment, clearly trying to digest the change in tone and the weight of what he’d said, before waving his arms above his head in apparent bafflement, “It’s not like he didn’t know you all were into him!”

“Roman,” Logan spoke up suddenly, gesturing at Patton and what Patton knew had to be a completely shell-shocked expression.

Roman looked up and went just as wide-eyed as the others, “Pat… did... did you not know?”

“...all of you?” Patton asked, then winced as his voice cracked in shock. He watched Virgil flinch and seem to retreat into his hoodie out of the corner of his eye, and Janus’ face smoothed over into a perfect mask of calm in the blink of an eye. He felt his heart break just a little bit at the disappointment in both of their eyes at what he was sure they saw as a rejection.

Logan grabbed Roman’s arm and yanked him away roughly, though Roman followed easily, “You all clearly need to communicate. I will handle this one.”

“Don’t wanna know about you handling my brother, poindexter,” Remus joked hollowly, sounding almost like it was a reflex with none of his usual cackle behind it.

Logan rolled eyes and headed out the door, tugging behind him a Roman who was fervently whispering, just barely audibly, “He didn't know, how did he not know,” to himself over and over again.

There’s silence in the shop for a while, just the sound of the radio faintly playing over the loudspeakers echoing off the walls as they all just stare at each other, not knowing how to start. Then Janus took a deep breath and spoke first, “Patton, I refuse to speak for these two clowns, but I will absolutely tell you that I, at the very least, have had feelings for you for many years, feelings which i was unaware I was not making perfectly clear, or that there was a chance of any sort of reciprocation.”

“Around 7 years for me, give or take. That first morning we made pancakes together,” Virgil added quietly, fiddling with the zipper on his sleeve.

Remus averted his gaze, looking nervous in the way Patton had only seen the day before he confessed to Virgil and Janus in high school, and admitted in the quietest voice Patton’d ever heard him use, “I don’t know exactly when, Pattycakes. You’ve always been there and as far as I’m concerned I’ve loved you just as long. And-and I just assumed it wasn’t returned.”

Patton swallowed thickly, trying to push back tears because he knew these boys and knew they would take them for disappointment rather than the joy they were. He dove at Remus first, vaulting the counter the way he always scolded Roman against and sliding to his knees next to the other man on the floor before crushing him in a hug. He flailed back at Janus and Virgil with one hand to pull them in as well, “Come here, all of you, we’ve lost so much valuable cuddle time!”

Patton was pretty sure Janus broke the sound barrier with how quickly he was plastered to his side and burying his face in his hair, and Virgil wasn’t far behind, wrapping an arm around his waist and burying his face in the crease of his neck and shoulder. Patton took that moment to be a bit daring himself and press a kiss to the corner of Remus’ lips, then giggled brightly when Remus grabbed hold of his cardigan and used it to pull him back in to kiss him full on the mouth with just as much passion and impulsiveness and laughter as Patton had always imagined. His mustache tickled Patton’s nose a bit but he leaned into it, humming happily in the back of his throat and feeling like a puzzle piece clicked into place.

Virgil only gave them a minute before he untucked his face from Patton’s neck and grouched that he wanted a turn. Remus let Patton go with a very put-upon sigh that didn’t match his playful grin, flicking Virgil on the nose lightly. “You gotta give him his kisses or he’ll never shut the fuck up,” he fake-whispered.

Patton grinned and turned readily to Virgil, and his lips met Patton’s in a much gentler dance. His kiss was no less deep or passionate for its caution, and his hands cupped his face like he feared Patton would float away if he didn’t hold tight. His fingers curled and twitched upwards like they wanted to bury themselves in his hair but didn’t want to overstep, so Patton took the initiative to grip the back of his neck and tilt his own head to encourage Virgil to do what he wished.

Janus was more patient, waiting for them to part for breath a few minutes later before taking hold of Patton’s chin from Virgil without a word and gently but firmly turning Patton towards him. Janus’ kiss could only be described as a caress, light and teasing and peppered with soft nips to his bottom lip before building up to something more solid. His warm hands rubbed calmingly up and down Patton’s spine and over his shoulders like he couldn’t figure out where he wanted to touch first.

Remus soon demanded he get another shot, then Virgil wanted another, then Janus again, leaving Patton so beyond cloud 9 he could barely think any more. They spent at least 20 minutes there on the floor, lost in each other, rotating kisses that were long overdue, letting their actions make the confessions their words hid from for years, not daring to move and break the spell of the moment.

Then a camera shutter sounded, paired with a bright flash of light that made them all jolt and look up in surprise.

“I said communicate you know, not make out on the floor,” Logan sighed, digging through his wallet to pull a 20 out to hand to Roman, who was grinning victoriously.

“I’m sorry for being a dick, but I had to do something and I told Logan the “accidental slip” would work,” Roman said as he pressed a triumphant kiss to Logan’s cheek and pocketed the 20, “But you have to admit it was a pretty great performance on my part.”

“Can’t believe I was betrayed by my best friends, I don’t know whether I owe you a scolding or a fruit basket,” Patton lamented playfully, cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. Janus ruined what little remained of the facade even more as he shifted slightly and pulled him into his lap and Patton clung tight to Virgil and Remus’ hands, with no intention of disconnecting any time soon.

#IntruAnaMoCeit #patton/dark sides #patton/remus/janus/virgil #polyamsanders #ts fic #i had no idea how to tag this #all sides #remus mention

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written-by-ariddletobesolved · 4 years ago

Text

little prince.

For Helsa Week 2021, Day 1: Parenthood ♥️ @helsaweekmasterlist

Excerpt. It was a perfect day for him and his little family, just the three of them, together, and he couldn't ask for something more perfect than this precious moment.

Rating: G • Word Count: 1,355

The fic will soon be posted on AO3 and FFnet as per usual. It's already day 2, where I live, but nah, let me post this now cause I fell asleep and it's still 19 April somewhere in the globe. Also, the prequel of this fic will be posted soon cause it fits the prompt (Soulmates) so please stay tuned. Hope you like it! 💕

—

Hans knew this day would arrive, yet no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he would be fine, it was still something he dreaded most. He wasn't ready for such a responsibility, then he recalled his mother's words from the last letter: who ever is ready?

The Prince Consort had just adjourned a Council meeting and was on his way to pick up some flowers for his wife, when he saw Kai, the Queen's advisor, quickly walked towards him. A tall servant, dressed in her usual day uniform in Arendelle's signature colour, was trailing after the advisor. Hans flashed them a smile, which turned into a slight frown as he noticed the look of panic and shock on their faces.

"Your Highness." Kai and the servant bowed.

"Is there anything you'd like to say, Kai?" Hans raised an eyebrow.

Kai took a deep breath, as if he was trying to compose himself, before he spoke, "It's the Queen."

As soon as he heard those words, Hans began to think of the worst. What happened to Elsa? Are they going to be okay? Goodness, he could only wonder and hope for the best.

"Did something happen to her?"

"The Queen is in labour, Sir," the tall servant replied.

The news gave him heart palpitations, and he was too stunned to move. "Already? But the doctor said the baby wouldn't be due until the end of the month."

"Apparently, there's still a chance that the baby would be due sooner," Kai added, then made a gesture to let him walk first.

"Has the doctor been called?"

The advisor replied from beside him, "Yes, Sir. He is already there with the Queen."

"What about the Princess?"

The auburn haired Prince could only imagine the look of shock on his sister in law's face when she realised she might miss the birth of her nephew or niece. He wondered if she and Kristoff would cut their honeymoon short once they received the news.

"We've already sent a messenger to the inn they're staying in."

Hans nodded. "Thank you, Kai."

With every step he took towards their chamber, Hans couldn't help but worry. His soulmate, the love of his life, was looking radiant and well that morning. He didn't even hear any complaints from her about any pain, or how their baby kept her up all night. Then again, Elsa rarely complained and mostly kept everything to herself. Having been trained all her life to conceal her powers, it was a lesson that became a habit and stayed with her.

Stopping before a white wooden double door with various patterns, he then grabbed the handle, before one of the servants stopped him.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but you're not allowed in."

"I'm the husband of the Queen, I have every right to be there," he stated firmly, masking his nerves behind the shades.

Not waiting for an approval, he pushed the door open. The moment he stepped in, Hans was greeted by the sight of his wife lying on the bed, back propped up by a few pillows and cushions behind her. He caught her weak smile, almost immediately, and it still bore the same warmth, despite the fact that she must be in so much pain.

"Elsa!"

In a brief second, Hans was already on his wife's side, holding her hand. He pressed a gentle kiss on her temple, then murmured some sweet nothings to her ear. From the look on her face and her ragged breathing, he could tell she was as nervous as he was.

The elegant Queen of ice and snow, who usually concealed her emotions well from the world, was now looking disheveled and undone. Her platinum blonde hair was unkempt, sweats rolling down her forehead, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Elsa allowed him to embrace her, as she turned to rest her head against his shoulder.

"Hans, what if," she paused, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Once she finally calmed down, she gazed into his emerald eyes, her free hand resting on her belly. "If something goes wrong—"

"Oh, please don't say that." Hans furrowed his eyebrows, not liking where the conversation might be heading to. "We have talked about this, Elsa."

"Yes, we have. But promise me, if it goes wrong and I can't make it, promise me that you will take care of our child and make sure they are loved." She choked back a sob. "Don't make the same mistake as our parents."

He knew the risks of childbirth. He had witnessed how one of his brothers slowly sank into madness after both his wife and their unborn child passed away. The past few months, the image had been haunting him until he picked up a pen and wrote to his mother back home, which was so out of character for him. But he didn't want to bother Elsa with his thoughts and fears, for she already had enough things on her plate.

He held her cerulean gaze with honesty and love. Her soulmate. The one who had kept him grounded. The one who had conquered her own fears. Now she looked so scared. Although Hans knew she was a strong woman and what she was capable of, he understood her. What she needed at the moment was a reassurance.

"Elsa, hey," he gently called her, brushing back her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "I promise." Pressing languid kisses on her cheek, he came to rest his hand atop her hand that was resting on her belly.

"It'll be alright, darling. You are strong, and you can do this, okay?"

Elsa nodded, blinking back the tears furiously. She tried to catch her breath, gripping his hand tightly. Her palm felt cold in his grasp, and Hans could only imagine how she was feeling.

"I will be here, holding you. We will get through this together, yeah?" He murmured. Nuzzling her hair, he murmured softly, "I got you, Elsa."

If only everything was easy and full of certainty.

—

The quietude felt so strange for them. After hours of constant screaming and crying in pain, the silence that was currently engulfing them almost felt too loud, but the Queen and the Prince Consort found it rather peaceful.

Hans sat on the bed with his back resting against the headrest. Smiling, He watched as the small bundle of joy fell asleep on his mother's chest. The small fingers curled in front of his face, and Hans couldn't help but observe his face closely. He beamed when he realised that his son inherited Westergaard's nose and hair colour.

His son. Their little prince.

Warmth filled his chest at that thought. It almost felt like a dream for him, how his world had changed so quickly. Two years ago, he was shipped to Arendelle to seduce the Crown Princess of Arendelle, who turned out to be his soulmate. Little did he know that he would grow to love her, and they would make it work together.

"A penny for your thoughts?" The gentle whisper woke him from his train of thoughts.

He turned to see Elsa smiled, her eyes blinking slowly as if she tried to fight the sleepiness. Leaning in, he captured her lips with his, the taste of her lips lingering for a while.

"I was just thinking about how lucky I am."

"Me too, actually," she said, before yawning.

At that sight, Hans tried to hold back his chuckle, especially when the baby had just fallen asleep.

"Get some sleep, darling." Lying on the bed to hold her, he then pressed another kiss on the top of her head. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"I love you," she murmured, eyes fluttering close.

"I love you too, Elsa." He gushed. "You and our little prince."

It was a perfect day for him and his little family, just the three of them, together. Glancing at the mother and son, his heart was full of happiness and warmth. He couldn't ask for something more perfect than this precious moment.

#helsa #Helsa Week 2021 #Helsa Week #HelsaWeek2021 #elsa x hans #hans x elsa #iceburns #hansla #queen elsa #prince hans #frozen #helsa fanfiction

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paranaturalpop · 4 years ago

Text

I rate your pnat ships by how well they work as foils

I’m Professor Pops, welcome to Literature 405: comparing and contrasting in pnat ships. Love is in the air but all that really matters is narrative symmetry!

Mina and Agent Day (submitted by @anxanhh)

two women on missions who need a confidante.

Mina is a calculating woman of science with a tender, vulnerable heart deep down that she guards. Day is a fun, giggly love goddess but beneath the surface she is just as calculating.

They are both focused on their prospective goals to the point of subterfuge.

They have similar missions, to solve the many mysteries of Mayview, but they’re at odds instead of working together. Will these lone wolves learn to let their walls down and work towards a common goal?

Their spectral energies are complementary colors!!!!!!!!!!!!

9/10 so different yet so alike. They should kiss and also develop as people.

Spendcia

Where's that post about paranatural having what my hero academia wants?

These two had interacted in cannon only once before we found out they were dating, power move on Zack’s part

The cousinhood and the consortium seem to have bad blood…. Enemies to lovers????

As teachers, Garcia is tired and phoning it in while spender is energetic and committed. But when it comes to mystery solving Spender is burning himself out while Garcia keeps him grounded.

Garcia does things like pack spender lunches with little hearts drawn on the bag but was surprised to be called his boyfriend. He acts chill but inside he is deeply invested in spender but also knows about spender’s isolating tendencies.

8/10 there's a reason these two have been off and on again for 6ish years, they’re walking a tightrope of vulnerability.

Imaax (submitted by Rubyya)

The Destiel of Paranatural. No I will not elaborate.

Here’s a pnat history lesson, the original ship name was Maxaac, but Zack weighed in on twitter with a much better alternative: Imaax. Also sometimes called Team Lightning Rod.

Black and blue colors, just like the emotional bruises they leave on the people around them.

Isaac wants to be seen as heroic and Max wants to be seen as aloof. It presents in different ways but deep down they both really care what other people think.

They both fear sincerity. Isaac protects himself with theatrics and Max with sarcasm.

Isaac puts on a big show of having strong ethics but he’s a little mean on instinct. Max puts on a big show of cutting people down with his snark and devil-may-care attitude, but when push comes to shove he’s kind and cares how other people feel.

Max immediately insults every person he meets and they still want to be best friends with him, while Issac tries so hard to be cool and nice but people just can’t stand him.

The meta tension between Isaac, who wants so badly to be the protagonist, and Max “magnetic personally” Puckett who is exhausted with being the protagonist, is delicious.

There’s a reason official art tends to portray them together. They bring out the best in each other. Isaac brakes through Max’s performative pessimism and Max brings Isaac down to earth.

10/10 these two were written as a pair and it shows.

Suzabel (submitted by Rubyya)

One of my fav tropes is ‘enemies to friends’ where the enemy part is completely one-sided. Isabel probably thinks she and Suzy get along great.

Both the heads of their respective clubs, but with very different leadership styles.

Isabel only studies her grandfather's spectral style to please him and is a near master of it, while Suzy is incredibly self-motivated even though her actual skills are lacking.

Isabel is at a crucial time in her life where she’s learning to distance herself from adult authority figures in order to take on more personal responsibility. Suzy is already blazing with independence and could help her adjust.

Inversely, Isabel could teach Suzy a thing or two about treating your club members with respect and doing the emotional labor necessary to prevent future conflict.

Red and pink! Valentines colors!

Isabel could kill you but would never, Suzy would actually try to kill you.

Investigative reporter/person living mysterious double life is a great dynamic.

Back when Izzy had Eightfold they had the ship name ‘Paper Girls’ which is awesome

7/10 Don’t ask me how I know this but they would kill at karaoke together. And they’re ok foils.

Bullymagnet

Max ‘too cool for clubs’ vs a boy who defines himself by his tight knit group.

Max is learning to be less passive aggressive and johnny is learning to be less aggressive aggressive.

Max’s entry to spectral life was when he injured Johnny and saw a shade of a doctopi on him, and Johnny's first shade was Max's doctopi after the hit ball game.

Johnny refuses to commit to not bullying max anymore even though he really likes him, and max is working on being nicer but he’s still gonna be snarky with people even though they’re his friends. Old habits die hard.

If he hadn't seen that shade, Max might have joined Johnny's gang. He has the style, the stunts, the snark.

8/10 Just two bros whose lives are changing forever.

Isaac and Dimitri (submitted by Rubyya)

Here’s my pitch for a ship name: Brainstorm

Orange and blue are complementary colors.

Isaac hurt Dimitri accidentally somehow. Hurting others accidentally is the central theme of chapter 5.

Idealist/pragmatist is a classic dynamic

They both have relationships with their spirit partners that are rooted in fear.

Dimitri’s self concept is overly dependent on his sense of intellectual superiority, and Isaac’s on ethical superiority.

7/10 have not directly interacted in the comic yet but the narrative symmetry is there

Johnny and Isabel (submitted by Rubyya)

Burnhound Vs Shockadile

These two are natural leaders who know how to treat their friends with respect.

These jocks are both lethal weapons, but while Isabel is a master martial artist, Johnny is a passionate but blunt instrument.

They’re both going through similar identity crises.

Isabel is struggling to reconcile her violent and disciplined upbringing with a good, gentle heart and Johnny is trying to reconcile his violent and self-centered lifestyle with a developing respect and empathy for other people.

Johnny dies his hair red, so he would think it’s cool how Izzy emits a fiery red aura when excited.

8/10 there's a reason these two were the team leaders in the hit ball arch.

Violet and Lisa (submitted by Rubyya)

People have been theorizing about what kind of cryptid Lisa is since day one meanwhile Violet gives off big normie energy.

Lisa is very plugged into all the Mayview weirdness as the queen of the school underground, while Violet was the only person who thought to go get a teacher during the hit ball arch. Lisa was also the only one who really spoke openly about how something was clearly very wrong with Jeff, everyone else talked around it and played by the so called ‘rules’. Lisa’s secret brokering Vs. Violet’s ‘sunlight is the best disinfectant’ attitude presents two different approaches to trying to survive in a school run by a mysterious shadow organization within a town that contains several other mysterious shadow organizations.

“If you were, I’d have to be jealous too.” just two middle schoolers pinning over their crushes.

7/10 two girls against the world.

Isaac and Johnny

ship name: Firestorm?

Just 2 fiery redheaded mediums with anger management issues that command primal forces and wanna be best friends with max

Johnny chooses to have red spiky hair, Issac has had red spiky hair thrust upon him.

Both met Maxwell Pucket and decided they needed to change for the better.

I’ve said this before but Johnny and Issac have equal and opposite philosophies. Johnny doesn't care about the greater good, he just cares about a small group of people who he loves. Issac cares about the greater good, but can’t connect with individuals and ends up hurting them. Together they form one GoodTM boy.

Both their spirit partners want revenge on Spender. This spells trouble.

If there’s anyone to teach Isaac about unconditional friendship, it’s Johnny

Isaac has sworn off violence and Johnny worships at the altar of it.

9/10 they’ve only interacted in canon once so far but I’ve think we’ve got a big storm coming.

Suzy and Collin (submitted by Rubyya)

The Bakudeku of pnat. I will continue to not elaborate.

Suzy once stole Collin's phone which prompted Collin to try to cut her hair which prompted Suzy to stab Collin and at no point did either of them think to move to a different bus seat. As different as they are they are also very much the same.

Collin is the definition of mouth service (constantly disapproving of suzy’s antics but going along with it anyway.) while suzy is all action.

Despite their different attitudes they both seem genuinely passionate about the journalism club.

Fashion icons. Suzy’s sunglasses and legwarmers, Collins sweater vests and wrist bands, this duo could walk for Paris fashion week: middle school edition.

We’ve gotten an indication that Collin cares a lot about what Suzy thinks of him (taking off his wrist bands when she made fun of Max's) but we haven't gotten any sign yet that the feelings are mutual.

5/10 I think their story is yet to be told and we’ll get to know more about how they compare/contrast to each other in the future. Maybe brought on by Dimitri's betrayal?????

Cody and Isabel (Submitted by @a-bitchtm)

Cody is gay by WOG but that doesn't matter here since we are evaluating thematic compatibility, not romantic compatibility.

Red Vs. Blue

Izzy’s arch about stepping into her role as leader through communication and honesty contrasts Cody’s role as the secret class president. Izzy finally told Isaac the truth about the consortium, while Cody blatantly lied to max about being president.

Both seem to have generally good motivations and the skills/talent to back those motivations up.

Isabel is in the process of unlearning the ‘firm hand’ philosophy that she learned from her grandpa and Cody’s dad straight up tried to mind control him into murdering a toddler.

They were both taught to fall back on their capacity for violence and intimidation but those teachings conflict with the people they really want to be.

6/10 just two kids who are being led astray by authority figures trying to learn to be themselves.

Cody and Collin (Submitted by @gatortavern)

They both like vests.

Both beholden to blood thirsty predators

Collin is a journalist, Cody is a vampire/leader of the shadow government. It’s a huge power move on Cody’s part to hang out with Collin.

Cody’s support of his friends is enthusiastic while Collin would have you believe Suzy has kidnapped him.

4/10 they hang out for a reason but those reasons have yet to be fully developed

Isabel and Max (submitted by @Paranatural-goofiness)

They’re both people who have learned to put up walls to keep people out. Isabel through violence and intimidation, max through sarcasm and mockery. T

he other side of this is their mutual journey to let their walls down and connect with other people more genuinely, starting with each other.

Their search for acceptance and identity has led them both to become incredible athletes. Spectral fist martial arts = shred eagle stunts

As we saw in the hit ball game, Izzy faces things head on while Max is all about evasion. However we’ve seen how Izzy has actually learned to be evasive and guarded about her feelings while Max is a little more forthcoming.

8/10 Never has there been faster friends.

Isaac and Cody (submitted by Rubyya)

Drama kings

Isaac wants the likability Cody has.

Parallels of power: Isaac with power he didn't choose and cant control vs. Cody who also didn’t choose to have his power (elected), but wields it like an instrument.

Involuntary anime hair and involuntary glowing monster eyes

These two definitely both fall under the category of “lawful”.

I can see these two ending up on opposite sides of a conflict because they both have such rigid personal codes and an intense sense of duty.

I know I’ve been approaching almost all of these platonically but Isaac probably really wants a cool vampire boyfriend deep down

7/10 Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. You two should watch anime together.

Hijack and PJ (submitted by @gatortavern)

They both wanna join the activity club so bad

Both have immature ideas about heroism and villainy.

Both aspire to heroism while at the same time understanding that they aren't that yet and maybe never will be.

They both, like many people in this comic, wanna be friends with max.

5/10 Two supernatural babies who should play wii sports together

Stephen and Isaac (@Gatortavern)

Two boys who are easily overwhelmed

Lawful vs. chaotic

Isaac has enough secrets to give Stephen his conspiracy fix for a long time.

In their own ways they both just want everything out in the open.

Isaac is Stephen's dream, someone actually living a secret double life, and Stephen is Issac's dream, someone with a cool scar who would think he’s actually very interesting.

5/10 these two are both very intense in their own way.

Johnny and Ed (Submitted by @theevilbrainman)

Two souls lost in the wind

Two people for whom friendship and loyalty is central to their character, and they’re both struggling with personal growth because of it. Johnny is afraid to change because his friends have always liked the person he already is, and Ed is struggling to even define himself outside of Isabel, the person he cares about the most.

Both impulsive and uninhibited.

They both live lives free from expectation. Johnny’s wild bully persona means no one is surprised by his antics or cruelty, while Grandpa Guerra doesn't really care if Ed takes up phantom fist like Isabel. He actually calls him a freeloader. Not having much expected of you can feel free but it’s also lonely and can warp your self-perception.

6/10 these two crossed paths at exactly the right time.

I didn't cover every submission because even though only 9 people submitted you sent in 34 ships between you. Pnat’s fanbase is small but very dedicated.

Honorable mentions:

Johnny and clear sinuses, submitted by @gaul-the-unmitigated

Isaac and therapy, submitted by both @squidgeons and @somethingfishysgoingon

PJ and Johnny, submitted by @gatortavern, who seems to be under the impression that Johnny Would protect PJ and not destroy him just by breathing near him.

Day and Scabs, submitted by @gatortavern, because funny.

Special thanks to everyone who sent in ship between people who have never interacted in cannon, which was a lot of you. My eyes are opened now, so many possibilities.

#paranatural #pnat #q #ships #valentines #dr. zarei/agent day #imaax #spendcia #suzabel #bullymagnet #shipping #pnat spoilers

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