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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

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punch me - jungkook

back again with another self indulgent fic! enjoy

summary: daycare worker jungkook invites you, his favorite coworker, to the lake with his friends. why the lake? he wants you to see his new sleeve and whipping his shirt off in the classroom isn’t quite acceptable. plus he just wants to spend more time with you. there’s no harm in that.

warnings: none i think!

word count: 3.5k

you work at a daycare, which isn’t a bad thing. it’s pretty chill, you like the kids and you can take off work pretty easy because there’s tons of subs. but also, not many people are bringing their kids in lately. so that means you and the other staff have been digging into the snack closet so “they won’t go to waste.”

jungkook was the one who suggested it. well, maybe suggest is the wrong word? he got caught up to his elbows in the bin of sweets, so when he turned to face your boss he immediately went into charming mode so he wouldn’t get in trouble. and once jungkook said it, everyone else thought it was a good idea too. hell, you’ve stopped buying snacks for yourself because you just sneak them from work now. wait. don’t tell anyone that.

anyway, it was a great idea, but that was two weeks ago. now the snack closet is empty and you have a room full of toddlers on the verge of anarchy because of it. because of jungkook.

you just watched him pass by your room, arms laden with cheez-its and rice krispie treats, and you know for a fact he doesn’t have a class today. he’s only here to touch up the mural he’s been asked to paint near the front desk, so all of those snacks must be for him.

you get the teacher from next door to keep an eye on your kiddos so you can sneak to the front and steal a couple bags of cheez-its (the kids don’t need their own bag, they’ll never know). but you get there and find yourself distracted from completing your mission.

jungkook is wearing old sweats, spattered with paint here and there, and he’s stooped over a bucket of water with a paintbrush between his teeth. it’s cute.

“jungkook,” you semi-shout to get his attention. you get a sort of “hmgpfh?” in response, and that’s enough for you. “do you seriously need this many snacks? just for yourself?”

“i’m a growing boy, y/n,” he replies, taking the paintbrush out of his mouth so he can dip it into a paper plate covered in red shades. “you can have one.”

“i need three, actually,” you reply, picking them up as you speak.

“are you a growing boy too?”

“no, i have six little kids with bad attitudes waiting for me in my room so i’ll be taking these off your hands,” you explain, finally turning to look at the work jungkook has put on the wall. “wow.”

“you like it?” jungkook asks, turning to look at you with a smile and a dancing light in his eyes. “is the tree too much?”

“no, oh my god, this is really good, jungkook,” you assure him, tracing your eyes over the wall full of characters and scenery from various children’s books.

“thank you,” he replies. “it’s better than wiping asses all day.”

“watch your mouth.”

“why don’t you watch it for me?” he quips back, peeking up at you with a smirk.

“what does that even mean, jungkook.”

“just thought i’d try to make you blush,” he says with a shrug. “didn’t work this time.”

“i don’t think it works anytime, actually,” you mumble, but he ignores it.

“hey, are you busy this weekend?” he questions, inspecting a bottle of green before squirting some directly on the wall.

“are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask with a laugh. you watch him frantically spread the paint around to resemble a bush.

“shut up. are you busy this weekend?” he asks again.

“i don’t think so, why?”

“come to the lake with me,” he says as he stands up to meet your eyes. “one of my friends convinced his uncle to let us borrow his boat. it’ll be fun.”

“do any of you know how to drive a boat?” you ask. “the safety of all this is what would keep me away.”

“i’m sure yoongi hyung will be able to do it,” jungkook says halfheartedly. “but still, the boat could just stay docked. it would be fun either way.”

“when are you going?”

“saturday, so i could come by yours and get you on my way?” he asks with a lot of hope in his voice. you shrug before responding.

“why not? sure.”

so, jungkook texts you late friday that he’ll pick you up at 7am saturday. what the fuck. you wouldn’t have said yes if you knew you had to leave that early, but jungkook explained that he’s the only one the uncle trusts to have the keys, so he has to get there before the world wakes up. but also, has this man met jungkook? jungkook, being trustworthy with small, easy to lose items? please.

nevertheless, you’re up bright and early on saturday with a very large thermos of coffee. jungkook texts you right at 7 that he’s outside, and when you walk out you see him at the back of his car trying to force something into the trunk.

“whatcha doin?” you ask as you approach, noticing his strong legs in his (surprisingly) short swim trunks. you’re now realizing you’ve never seen him in anything other than baggy pants, so his legs are a little...distracting.

“trying to keep the beer bottles from rattling,” he says through clenched teeth.

“and you’re trying to fuse them together with sheer force?”

“no, i’m stuffing a towel in between them in the box but it’s really tight.”

“if hoseok were here he’d make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke,” you jest.

“i thought about it,” jungkook replies. “so i guess that counts?”

as he talks, he rearranges the other things in the trunk so it can close easy, and as he lowers the door he turns to you.

“you look nice,” he says, eyes drifting over you quickly. he notices the coffee cup in your hand and smiles. “any chance that has the sickly sweet creamer in it that i like?”

“how would i know what coffee creamer you like?” you ask, slightly annoyed that he just assumes you pay that much attention to him but also annoyed that you got caught.

“because you like me,” he replies, grabbing the thermos and taking a sip. “oh my god, i love you.”

“you better be talking to the coffee,” you warn him as you grab the coffee back from him.

“i’ll say it to you someday,” he promises, walking around to the passenger side of the car before opening your door. “if you let me.”

“what’s gotten into you lately?” you ask with a smile. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on jungkook, and recently it’s gotten worse. after you started working together, you noticed how many shared friends you have, so you’ve been hanging out more and more the past few months. jungkook has always been more than nice to you, but these flirty little comments are a welcome change. you hope they keep coming.

“is it cool if we stop at the gas station real quick?” he asks as he gets into the driver’s seat. “it’s an hour drive and i need gas and snacks.”

“fine with me. how about cheez-its and rice krispies?”

“i had my fill of those at work this week, thanks,” jungkook laughs.

at the gas station, you offer to get the snacks while jungkook stays at the pump. you’re looking for your favorite gas station snack, a crappy fruit and cheese danish that you could eat every day. jungkook finds you bent over in the sweets aisle, ass poking out too much for him to pass by and not push your face right into the premade baked goods. he considers it, because funny, but mean. he also considers passing behind you and smacking your ass as he does so you’ll move. tempting, but maybe too far. he opts for just bending down next to you to see what’s so interesting.

“what are we looking for?” he asks, scanning the labels for something to try.

“cherry and cheese,” you tell him, moving a blueberry danish out of the way, hoping to find what you want, but no luck.

“what? that sounds gross,” jungkook replies as he stands. “you like that?”

“it’s one of my favorites,” you tell him as you move into a squat. jungkook slides behind you and looks for his favorite jelly candy as you keep searching. “what’s so gross about it? they go well together.”

“like us.”

“what?”

“huh?” jungkook asks, staring down at you with a glint in his eyes. the glare you give him is definitely ignored as jungkook looks back up and spots something on the top shelf. he grabs it and hands it to you. “this what you want?”

“yeah, it is,” you reply. “thanks. get another one for yourself.”

“why?” he asks, screwing his face up in disgust.

“because i know you’ll want to try some even with the way you’re acting right now, and i don’t like sharing.”

“whatever you say,” he grumbles with a roll of his eyes. “now help me find the sour worms.”

jungkook tried the danish, and he hated it.

have you ever seen a baby eating a lemon? it was like that, except jungkook spat what was in his mouth into his hand and then tossed it out the window of his car as he drove. sure, that whole part was gross, but he looked cute when he didn’t like the danish. who doesn’t love babies making silly faces?

“i can’t believe you like that, but i can’t believe you convinced me to try it,” jungkook complains.

“kook, i think if i told you electrocuting yourself was fun you would try it just because i said i liked it,” you reply. he thinks about it for a moment before nodding, a slight tint gracing his cheeks.

“you’re right, but that’s not gonna make me finish your gross choice of snack.”

“fine, more for me,” you say, grabbing the discarded treat in the cupholder. you take a bite, not really caring that jungkook’s mouth was on it before you.

“omg.”

“did you just say ‘omg’ out loud?”

“yes, why?”

“you’re a loser,” you laugh, taking another bite, causing jungkook to gasp again. “what?”

“it’s like we just kissed,” he replies, almost giggling through his toothy smile.

“what do you even mean by that.”

“we just swapped spit.”

“you’re disgusting. stop talking.”

“hey, you’re the one that wants to kiss me,” jungkook says with a shrug. you want to protest, but you don’t want to convince him that you’re totally against kissing him. you’d actually very much like to plant your lips on his and never let go, but life doesn’t always give you what you want. jungkook notices your silence and smiles. “you’re not denying it.”

“i’m being polite.”

“mmmhmm,” he replies, failing to hide how pleased he is as he pulls into a treacherously sloped driveway. “we’re here.”

it’s turning into a beautiful day. the morning chill is starting to slowly melt away, and you find yourself sweating slightly as you help jungkook move all of the junk from his car. he insisted on doing it himself, but you felt super weird just standing there while he huffed and puffed carrying things back and forth, so you finally jumped in. it’s still just the two of you here, the friend’s uncle had successfully given you both a crash course on how to handle the boat, and you’re confident the two of you can share that info with yoongi when he gets here and hopefully no one will get hurt.

speaking of yoongi, he said he was a few minutes away, and that was more than a few minutes ago. maybe he and hoseok got lost. the final four (as they’ve been calling themselves all morning) will be here later because taehyung didn’t have a swimsuit and they had to make a pit stop at walmart to get him one. you’re familiar with jungkook’s friends, and comfortable with a couple of them, but you don’t know much about taehyung aside from his interest in art and now his view on the boxer vs briefs debate (he was apparently very picky when trying on said swimsuits). but whatever. they’ll get here eventually.

before you know it, you and jungkook have unloaded all of the snacks, alcohol and water accessories from his car, so all that’s left to do is hang out until the boys get here.

“you ready?” jungkook asks, offering you his hand. you give him a questioning look and he motions to the boat. “c’mon, we’re not gonna sit here in the sun while we wait for them. it’s hot as balls.”

“but it’s hot as balls on the boat too,” you counter as you take his outstretched hand and let him pull you behind him on the dock.

“yeah, but at least we’re on a boat.”

he leads you to the edge of the shaky dock and let’s go of your hand momentarily to steady himself as he steps over to the boat. he turns back and offers his hand again, giving yours a squeeze as he guides you over the gap of water. the boat is slippery, so you lose your footing slightly and jungkook reacts quickly by wrapping you in his arms. the boat is bobbing a little too much for your liking, but jungkook is giggling and that distracts you enough from the fact that you could’ve fallen just now.

as you both stand there awkwardly staring at each other, you don’t notice yoongi’s car pulling up to the top of the hill and its two passengers walking out toward the water.

“oooh, what do we have here?” hoseok asks as he sees you holding onto each other for dear life. you separate quickly, making the newcomers laugh.

“don’t stop because we’re here,” yoongi replies.

“yeah, i can hug yoongi if it makes things less awkward for you,” hoseok offers.

“please don’t do that,” yoongi quips back.

“i’ll get you when you least expect it, hyung.”

jungkook, still standing very close to you, clears his throat and waves yoongi over. you scoot around them to help hoseok with the bag of food in his hands.

“are you sure you know how to drive a boat, yoongi?” you ask.

“i’m a fast learner,” he replies.

“that’s not very reassuring.”

“i’ve done it before, y/n,” he laughs. “just not with this kind of motor, but it won’t take long to figure out. everything will be nice and safe, i promise.”

“besides, we have jungkookie here to save you even if hyung throws us overboard,” hoseok jokes.

speaking of jungkook, he’s rustling around the boat, trying to figure out how to put the suncover up. his jacket from this morning has been tossed aside, and he’s in a baggy tank top. you allow yourself a moment to admire the way his muscles ripple as he works when you notice -

“you finished your sleeve?” you ask him. his head snaps up in your direction and he smiles.

“enjoying the show?” he teases.

“answer the question.”

“honestly, i wanted it to be a surprise,” he replies, stretching the arm out and turning it around as best he can.

“so what, you were gonna take your shirt off and punch me and that’s how i was supposed to find out?”

“are you offering?”

“i’m just mad you didn’t take me with you! i was gonna get something this time,” you complain with a slight pout, which jungkook scrunches his nose at. you’re really cute, he thinks to himself.

“my artist called me last minute and said they had an opening, so i went in as soon as i could. i think you were still handling six hungry toddlers,” he explains.

“so is that why you invited me today?” you laugh. “you couldn’t think of a reasonable way to take your shirt off in front of me so i had to come with you to the lake for the big reveal?”

“jungkook, if you say yes, then jin and i are giving you the sex talk. you gotta up your game,” yoongi mumbles.

“no,” jungkook insists, ignoring yoongi. “i invited you today because i think it’ll be fun and i wanted you to be here.”

“and he wanted to see you in a swimsuit,” hoseok adds, pulling some cookies out of the bag of snacks. he offers them to you and you gladly accept. then he turns and pops one into yoongi’s mouth as he yawns, before he tosses one over to jungkook, happily shouting “a cookie for kookie!”

“that’s cute,” you smile, liking the way hoseok babies jungkook. it’s got him flustered, and it’s kind of adorable.

“kook, did you hear that? y/n thinks you’re cute,” hoseok sing-songs.

“i- that’s not...i didn’t say that,” you stumble. “the rhyming was cute. if anything, i called hoseok cute.”

“everyone thinks hobi is cute,” yoongi replies. “but jungkook? eh.”

“eh?!” jungkook shouts. “i’m just eh to you hyung?”

“now you hurt the boy’s feelings,” you tell yoongi, and he shrugs.

“you should’ve just called him cute.”

you look over and notice jungkook is staring at you, an eyebrow quirked in a challenge. hoseok is watching and munching like this is a movie, and yoongi looks between you and the so-called cutie and laughs to himself.

“well?” jungkook asks.

“i mean, yeah, you are cute, sometimes,” you begin. “not when you’re being annoying though.”

“i’m not annoying!”

“yes you are,” hoseok and yoongi agree in unison. jungkook huffs at that and looks back at you.

“now my feelings are hurt again. talk more about me being cute,” he pleads as he finally gives up on the suncover and joins you on the wraparound couch of the boat. he’s looking at you with the absolute worst puppy dog eyes, so you keep going.

“uh, you’re cute with the kids i guess? like when they use you as their personal playground and you’re all giggling. that’s cute,” you offer. “or when the little girls get hurt, they always run to you first and you cheer them up with sweet songs.”

“hmm, family planning perhaps?” you hear hoseok joke with yoongi.

you would go on (or deny how often you’ve thought about jungkook being a dad) but the other car of boys has finally arrived, so the two instigators leave the boat to help them unload. that leaves you next to jungkook, who’s not done talking about the cute stuff.

“i didn’t know you noticed all of that,” jungkook whispers, suddenly sitting very close to you. you try to act like it’s nothing, but he stops you. “ah ah, now it’s my turn.”

“your turn? for what?”

“for talking about how cute you are,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing ever. if he had his way he would be pulling up a whole powerpoint presentation right now, but he has to rely on his words, which is fine. “first of all, you have great style. you’re maybe the only person who can make the daycare uniform look like a capital o outfit everyday you come in. and the way your eyes light up when a kid tells you a story, or shows you something they made? that’s my favorite. wish you would look at me like that someday.”

“you...what?” you almost can’t believe where this conversation has gone, but it’s making your heart beat faster and you’re not ready for it to stop.

“i wish i could make your eyes light up like i’m the only person you can see,” he clarifies, locking eyes with you. he holds your gaze for a moment before his eyes flick down to your lips. you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close, but the movement was obvious. jungkook wants to kiss you.

“and what would you do if they did?” you challenge, repeating the same glance from his eyes down to his lips. your gaze lingers a little longer, and when you look back up at jungkook you know what’s coming next. that doesn’t mean it’s not shocking, though.

kissing jungkook is like pulling down a piece of the sun and slamming it into your chest. the warmth that he exudes, and the softness of his lips as they caress yours, it’s perfect. but -

“wait,” jungkook mumbles against your lips. you pull back, worried.

“what?”

“i did that wrong.”

“wha..how? jungkook, i thought that was nice,” you assure him but he shakes his head.

“i did it wrong,” he insists, looking at you and noticing the shine in your eyes that he was hoping for. “can i kiss you again?”

you nod and let out a quiet “yes” before jungkook is cupping your face and connecting your lips again. this one is stronger, more intentional and you’re glad he wanted to try again. not that the first kiss was bad, your mind is still reeling from that first one. but this feels like a kiss full of love. it feels like a kiss from someone that’s been pining for you over bags of cheez-its and funny kid stories, but they didn’t know how to tell you how badly they wanted to do this. jungkook didn’t know how to tell you, but now he doesn’t have to because this kiss tells you everything you need to know.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook one shot

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

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The Miys, Ch. 142

Another late chapter... I’m really batting a thousand lately, seems like.

So, work has been insane, but @baelpenrose reminds me to post when I forget, thankfully. And this is SUCH a fun chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

I dropped into a seat in Mess Hall Seven with a groan, so exhausted that I barely managed to get soup and a grilled cheese from the console. Tyche yawned and nodded in agreement before poking at her sushi bowl idly. It was six Von-days after the last drill, and between coordinating increased training schedules for Shelters Three and Seven and helping Charly plan kink-night at the Undine, we were wiped.

“People are ungrateful,” she muttered before managing to barely balance a piece of salmon into her mouth.

I muttered something that hopefully sounded like agreement before I scooped up a bite of my soup with one wedge of sandwich, too lazy to even bother with the spoon. “Remind me why we don’t have Vati and Hannah handling the practice schedules?”

“Because they are handling the extra evacuation drills with Jokul and Arthur.”

Personally, I thought they were getting the better end of this deal, but since the raging success of their first Food Festival, it really was only fair. “And the relocations for those who need it,” I admitted. “Except mine.”

“Conor may actually strangle one of them if any of your plants don’t make it,” she pointed out, gesturing with her chopsticks for emphasis after having given up and using her fingers to eat her lunch. “Not to mention I wouldn’t wish packing with Maverick on anyone.”

“He’s letting me pack the books and textiles.” I shrugged in acceptance after taking another bite of soup-dipped sandwich.

We picked at our food in silence after that, grateful for something resembling a reprieve, before we were interrupted by a flurry of grey hair and enthusiasm landing in one of the nearby chairs with a heavy thunk. “Good afternoon, Madams Reid.”

“Hey, Jokul,” I muttered as Tyche just waggled her fingers at him. I really think I liked it better when he was trying to kill me. Right now, I might even let him do it.

“I know you are both on your meal period, but I wanted to test the waters on potentially scheduling a community activity,” he rushed out.

Tyche guarded her lunch with an almost feral aggression, having heard what happened the last time Jokul had interrupted my lunch. “That should really be something you run by Al-”

“Worthington, yes, I know,” he interrupted. “However, I know you are both quite busy and I wanted to be respectful of your time. As such, I will make this as brief as - ow!” He snatched his hand back away from the other half of my sandwich, rubbing where I had slammed my spoon down onto it.

“I have no idea where the food stealing comes from, but don’t,” I warned him.

“Rude, got it,” he nodded in a terrifying impression of Charly’s normal demeanor. “As I was saying, I recently learned a new type of game from Terra, from the Before. It involves teamwork, and encourages creativity and escapism, and I think it would be a very good community activity - “

I surrendered to my urge to groan. “We are not doing a redux of Settlers of Cattan. Arthur stabbed someone last time.”

“I didn’t press charges…” Jokul pouted, glancing at the scar on the back of his wrist briefly. “Besides, it was only a fork. Clearly he didn’t mean it, there were four knives in arms reach counting my own.”

Tyche cocked an eyebrow at me. Seriously?

I pursed my lips and wrinkled my nose in response. Yep.

“So what game is it this time?” I asked hesitantly.

I was reward-bombarded with a grin. “It’s called Dungeons and Dragons! Somewhat like a video game, but with more people, and using writing implements and paper. Oh, and different kinds of dice, very important. One person is something of the narrator, to give the game a kind of structure, while the other players act as characters in the game… Ivan introduced me to it, and it is quite challenging with the right people. The dungeon master - that is the narrator - has to re-evaluate the story based on the actions of the other players, but the players themselves don’t know what the dungeon master is going to do. It is very much a social diversion, and there are many classes….”

As Jokul continued to gush, he was rather oblivious to the fact that Tyche and I were stuffing our faces as quickly as possible to avoid interrupting him or laughing. We had both played when we were younger - in fact, we had been introduced to the game by our mother. There had even been a very overwhelming pop-culture movement in our youth around the game, which further emphasized just how far out in the boonies Jokul had grown up. As shocking as it was that he was just now discovering the game, it came at exactly zero surprise that he enjoyed it so much - it was right up his alley of interests.

About fifteen minutes and two more grilled cheeses into his retelling of the campaign he was part of, Charly and Arthur squeezed in with us, their own lunches in tow. As seemed to be a growing trend, Arthur reached over and snagged one of my sandwiches before I could react, shoving half of it in his face.

That was apparently enough to snap Jokul out of his story. “Hey! Why didn’t you hit him?”

“His deathwish, not my problem,” I shrugged.

Around the remains of my lunch, Arthur managed to enunciate. “Told you, Noah fissed the dairy allergy.”

“Bleargh,” I gagged comically. “It’s okay, think I’m done anyway.”

Jokul’s hand swatted Arthur’s out of the way to steal the rest of my food. “As I was saying, Ivan was quite clever with his resolution to deal subdural damage to the player who was very much ruining the storyline by insisting his character was immune to magical sleep…”

“Oooooo! I love tabletops!” Charly squealed, bouncing in her seat. “What setting are you playing in right now? My favorite was always Exalted…”

“Miss Harper, I think we are discussing different activities.” Jokul sounded supremely confused, but my heart broke a bit.

Arthur shook his head. “Maybe not Exalted, but what about Ebberron? Swordhaven, maybe? Just tell me it isn’t Ravenloft… I know you haven’t been fucking around in a Dark Sun, but I beg you to tell me you aren’t playing Ravenloft.”

“I’m not sure what those are… Ivan introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons. There is only one setting.”

“So… Greyhawk or homebrew,” Arthur nodded. “Best place to start, get the basics down.”

Jokul’s head pivoted toward me and Tyche, squinting in annoyance. “You knew, didn’t you? And you let me prattle on…”

“You were so… happy….” I explained plaintively. “We didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

Tyche nodded. “We both remember how fun that first campaign is. And honestly? We’ve been having a kind of crappy day. It was nice to hear someone be excited about something that isn’t work related.”

“But I came to you to discuss making it a ship activity…”

“Originally, yeah,” I shrugged. “That was maybe the first thirty seconds. After that, you were doing what literally every tabletop roleplaying person has done since the beginning of time… telling stories about the fun, dramatic, and frankly stupid shit the people in your party are doing.”

“Says the two-foot eight halfling rogue,” Arthur scowled.

“I rolled it at random, it was fifteen years ago, get over it!” I threw my hands up dramatically. “At least I wasn’t mated to a frickin’ deity.”

Charly giggled uncontrollably while Jokul goggled at us. “Exalted is broken in all the fun ways.”

“You literally sacrificed, and I quote ‘all of your fucks to give’, for necromancy.”

“That was your idea!”

Jokul turned toward Tyche, waiting for her to say something. She just held up her hands defensively. “I was a murder monk-bunny.”

Arthur snorted. “You were the Black Rabbit of Inle….”

“Well if my wife would have just stopped dying…!”

“At least none of us were the Platinum Knight who pissed his pants every time he confronted his favored enemy,” I laughed. “He never did live that one down. Every. Single. Dragon. He would crit fail his roles.”

“Oh, please,” Arthur intoned drily. “Did I ever tell you about the time one of my players managed to make ‘Notice me, Senpai’ into the most terrifying in-universe warcry imaginable?”

Charly choked before swatting his shoulder. “Not in front of my pasta. Please.”

Jokul, however, looked both horrified and intrigued, egging Arthur on. “Barbarian whose entire clan worshipped a god named The Senpai…. Just imagine, a barbarian in a rage, bellowing ‘NOTICE ME, SENPAI!!!’ before just scything down thirty men with a broadsword.”

At this point, I was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down my face. “Please, please tell me there was a kilt and pigtails involved….”

Jokul touched his own hair, before straightening as seriously as possible. “They are warrior’s braids, Councillor.”

That was it, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just put my head down on my folded arms and waiting to either pass out from laughing so hard or from exhaustion. A few deep breaths and a spinning head later, I managed to wipe my face on my sleeve and realized the conversation was continuing without me. Just as I was clearing my throat to let Jokul know he should be fine to start organizing something and to send me a rough outline, Arthur dealt the final blow.

Leaning over, he whispered over my shoulder. “By the way, the barbarian’s name was Drystan of the Doki-doki tribe.”

I was proud that I managed to get up and dash into the hallway before collapsing against the wall in maniacal laughter. I barely registered Hannah’s voice behind me asking everyone at the table if I needed medical assistance, and that did not help.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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janiedean · 3 years

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if you ever wrote that rant about grrm making jon his chosen one deconstruction i'd be very happy to read it 👀

hello anon sorry for the lateness but here we go *deep breath*

sssooo, I had once ranted about it though not mentioning the thing I mentioned in those tags so lemme see if I can find the op and like... cp the main argument and amend it bc it was long, but okay so I found it, original anon asked me: why is Jon considered to be one of the most special characters grrm created? Why is he not the typical hero of fantasy books?, my original answer was here if anyone wants to go there but basically lemme just cp the first part making it shorter and then I'm adding:

first thing, the Typical Post-Tolkien Chosen One With A Shitty Life Before He Finds Out He Is Chosen™ character (I’m saying post-tolkien because every fantasy writer in existence who copies tolkien thinks that lotr went like that and instead it didn’t) usually goes through the following steps: his life sucks up until the beginning of the series, his family generally hates him/her or doesn’t appreciate them or abuses them or anyway doesn’t make their life easier and they’ve never known any different, but *something* never quite worked right and they always knew something was missing in their life, they just didn’t know why. suddenly someone who knows they were Chosen™ shows up and tells them that they’re actually Special because of this this and that and they have a quest to go on to save the world or something. our hero/heroine obviously is finally validated and while their quest is hard and full of hardships and maybe they lose a few friends along the way, finding out that they were Chosen gives their life meaning, they usually find love/friends/everything they didn’t have before until they fulfill the Prophecy™ and live more or less happily ever after, possibly after hooking up with the Person Of Their Dreams with whom they had UST up until the last twenty pages of the book. basically: being Chosen™ in regular fantasy novels is a good thing because suddenly you’re special and all the crap you suffered acquires a new meaning and in the end it made your life better.

jon snow is a complete overhaul of about everything in this sense because

instead of having a family who hates him he has a family who actually mostly loves him, and with ned it’s arguably so much that he risks royal treason by keeping him hidden from his *best friend* - sure, there’s cat and peripherally sansa, but his issues stem from the fact that he feels lesser because he’s a bastard (as far as he knows) and it’s a *class* issue, not a *my family hates me* issue not counting catelyn obv but that's what gives him freudian issues more on that in the emended part later

no one actually knows that he’s Chosen™ - like mel could get there and probably will and someone will put two and two together when his parentage comes out in the open, but he doesn’t have a gandalf or mentor who shows him The Way Towards His Quest

so instead of going from ‘my life sucks but I’m going on a quest which is gonna be a+’ he actively chooses to leave a fairly decent situation (a household he knows, siblings who love him - ned actually hoped he’d become robb’s counselor or right hand man or something from what we can gather) because he feels like he has to prove he’s better than his name and goes to the Crappiest Place In Westeros. like idk if people grasp it, but the wall is basically a prison and at the ripe age of fourteen he decides that it’s totally a good and honorable choice (his only choice actually) to go defend the realm in the freezing cold along with a bunch of criminals/derelicts/rejects of society

at which point he makes friends among said rejects and let’s remember that it’s the point where he actually has to do his first an only privilege when donal noye made him go like hey you were brought up with nobles these ppl are here because they stole bread, and that helps making him more into the person he is rn but like your tyopical fantasy hero who has had a shitty life doesn’t usually have to acknowledge that other people might have had it worse

then he goes on the Quest where he finds his first One True Love, and that’s where it turns even worse because usually the quest is where things start to go right for the Hero™, instead for jon they start to go wronger, because first he has to go undercover which pretty much tests most of his belief/code system, he falls in love with a girl he has to betray, half of his friends and his lord commander die along the way, while he’s off doing his thing winterfell gets taken/burned and robb dies when jon openly stated that he also was going to the wall to defend his family and keep them safe (yeaaah worked out real well), when he goes back to the wall he has to fight the people he lived with for months, the woman he loves dies in his arms and he can’t do anything about it and he’s aware it couldn’t have gone any other way, people put defending the wall on him and then put his loyalty in question, when stannis shows up with a legitimization (which is everything he ever wanted) he refuses because he doesn’t want to accidentally steal his siblings’s inheritance (which was what cat was so worried about hahaha) and actively chooses the crappy defending the realm life all over again. also in all this time his being Chosen™ hasn’t manifested or helped him in any way whatsoever - actually all his honor-moral code related baggage is what moral dilemmas come from that. like, your usual chosen hero™ would always take the right decision and it all turns out good eventually, jon takes the morally right decision and it all turns SOUR eventually

at this point he finally gets elected LC, thanks to his friends also pitching in, which is about the one fantasy hero™ thing that’s happened for now. should be good, yes?

lol no, because he ends up with THAT hellish responsibility at sixteen, since he thinks that he has absolutely to be even better than that now and he has very specific notions about how you should lead and he knows he has to take unpopular decisions/decisions that he doesn’t necessarily like, he ends up either having to send his friends away forreal (sam) or detaching from them (pyp/grenn/the likes) and when as far as he knows he learns that his sister is married to ramsay he can’t do anything about it

never mind that it’s the same situation as when he had to pick the watch or robb in book one - he went there to defend his family and now being there actually prevents him from helping them in person. ops. meanwhile he’s trying to implement a new vision of things which is modern and smart and actually makes sense because why fighting the wildlings when you have ZOMBIES coming. your usual Chosen One™ would get people to approve just because he’s the Chosen One

instead jon gets stabbed to death - okay, that was also because he wanted to go get arya but it was the last straw, people were pissed over the wildlings plan first and foremost

so basically he’s gone through all the Chosen One™ steps but in reverse - he loses his family which did love him instead of finding another one that makes the first pale in comparison, he does find a new one who loves him but has to alienate most of its members for responsibility reasons as a consequence of what should have been the crowning achievement of his life choices (which eventually is NOT one), he falls in love and they don’t drag the UST forever but they never get a chance to be together without small print in between, he chooses the admittedly most masochistic life he could for his family as well and half of them die and he can’t do a thing for the other half, every other mentor-like figure he runs into after ned dies, instead of finding validation he ends up having to isolate himself and on top of everything HE STILL DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW HE’S THE CHOSEN ONE™

so instead of his life going better the more he learns stuff and matures as a person, he gets murdered. by the people he trusts and who were supposed to be his new family. haha?

never mind that when he finds out he’s the Chosen One™ it won’t bring him closure because all he ever wanted was being full stark like his father/siblings and then bam he’s going to find out his father’s actually targaryen and what does that even mean to him?

on top of that being AA will just be a pain because I don’t believe for a second he’s not going to get leftover ptsd and who the hell is gonna help him deal with it? or how is he ever getting over his *brothers* murdering him? and people are going to ask stuff of him all over again and he’s gonna have to go slay a mythical monster and if I know grrm it’s not gonna be fun, pretty or cathartic FOR HIM

on top of that, Chosen Hero™ fulfills the prophecy and gets a realm to rule and everyone lives happily ever after. money is that if jon does get that realm (and I think he is because he has the best claim if he's legitimate and most likely it'll turn out he was on the targ side but ROBB also legitimized him so he has double the legitimization), he’s going to hate every second of it and he’ll take it because a) duty, b) literally no one else is available, and like this guy didn’t want to rule a realm or be a king or anything he just wanted to be a stark, and instead he’s going to have to after all that shit thanks to Magical And Noble Heritage he hadn’t even known he had and probably didn’t even want up to that point because since when jon wanted to be a targ? yeah since never

obviously I hope he manages to be somewhat happy regardless because the alternative is too miserable, but basically being a Chosen Hero™ is what makes jon’s life worse rather than better and the fact that hew went through all the regular self-discovery journey for the fantasy hero list doesn’t mean he’s not flipping that over in his sl. the fact that he stayed a decent person more or less throughout it and that he hasn’t turned into a bitter asshole also doesn’t change the main point XD

tldr: jon snow is not a typical fantasy hero because he deconstructs that trope into tiny little bits same as robb deconstructed the arthurian flawless king hero trope

now ^^^^^ THAT was what I originally wrote for that meta but adding on to what I said in those tags

okay so... there is a certain tendency to also make the chosen one™ special in the sense that he's kind of goals - good looking, rich or set to inherit, gallant, takes the initiative, he's like.. social or anyway immediately makes friends etc and all that jazz which jon... doesn't really fit

like jon is an introvert who immediately makes friends just with outcasts and his siblings also bc he feels like one but he's hardly a social butterfly and charms everyone wherever he walks by

I mean ffs says all that the only person he charmed in that sense is stannis who is the literal only person in charge in the books who is more introvert than him and has worse communication issues and appreciates ppl going straight to the point

on top of that in the book he looks like ned.... and arya looks like ned and ned isn't described as being particularly handsome that was brandon so he's not even like... I mean kit h. is v. pretty and I think he was a good choice for the role and I'll die on the hill that he was born to play that character and he did it well but book!jon doesn't have that kinda pretty face so the concept that he's the HOT alternative to anyone to me is kind of iffy bc he's not

he's shit at social interactions and at PR which is why robb and him would have been a key winning ticket like he has a better idea of the larger picture but robb would have actually made sure ppl didn't turn against them bc he actually was good at that but like he doesn't go around rallying armies in his name does he

the one time he's been with a girl it was ygritte and like he courted her without realizing it and then she had to pursue him and he barely knew wtf to do on top of the fact that they slept with ghost in the middle of them like a sword which..... is.... I mean sleeping with the sword in the middle was a thing to make sure the maiden stayed a maiden and he's the one who is like i CAN'T HAVE SEX WITH HER EVEN IF I WANT TO BECAUSE I'M TECHNICALLY SPYING ON THEM like... he's not... gallant-knight coded

never mind that the moment they do the do she basically does everything until he decides to try the oral which I mean... isn't exactly alphadominatingmale out of jon which is not a given with the trope he's supposed to represent like he's not smooth he's not suave he's like WHAT THE FUCK when ygritte tells him he has a pretty face bc most likely no one else told him that and he like... doesn't pursue people like that in general which is also not exactly 100% what that trope usually goes for

we can add that he has a lot of passive-aggressive little shit sarcasm in him that they didn't let him go for in the show but like... usually chosen heroes™ don't think what he thinks about selyse in general

we can also add that he's not automatically above being better than his position like... he doesn't take winterfell bc ygritte is dead but he did think he'd have taken the deal sansa or not if stannis had said he could marry her and not val and if she wasn't dead, he basically went off the rails at the dude he was fighting with thinking about robb telling him that he couldn't be lord of wf because he was a bastard and he's absolutely not in the frame of mind of 'well I was born a bastard who cares it doesn't define me'

he's obsessed to the point of unhealthy with actually being defined by it which is why he was better off with the wildlings aka the only idiots in the realm who don't gaf about that

and that's like... I mean usually if chosen ones™ have parental issues it's like 'you were an orphan and raised by asses who weren't your parents but your parents loved you and you'll find out at some point and you'll be happier for it and make your own family', jon is like... he has the mommy freudian issues of the century bc of how cat treated him, on the other side he's obsessed with living up to ned's/his father's name and he hates that it makes him not-belonging or that he feels like he doesn't even if he does with his siblings, and at the same time when the truth about it comes out he's going to get the cold shower of the century bc like - he's spent all that time thinking BUT DID MY MOTHER WANT ME WHO WAS MY MOTHER and he's going to find out of who it was and how he was born and honestly considering that lyanna most likely did regret running with rhaegar the moment he finds that out and that she died birthing him how is he going to feel? - also he spends his life wanting to live up to his 'father's' name aka ned aka someone known to be honorable to a fault and then it turns out his bio father is... the dude who started that entire rebellion not doing a very honorable thing? - also if jon*erys is a thing idt that he'd take 'I fell in love with my aunt' so nonchalantly as he did in the show tldr: he's never gonna get over his parental issues in a short time and when that particular brick hits him in the face it won't be pretty

like the entire point of jon is that he goes through all the chosenone™ cursus honorum as we'd call it in high school when studying latin but each step that means smth good for the usual chosenone™ to him is something bad, being one is not going to make his life better and throughout the entire thing he does not fit that stereotype when it comes to look, personality, basic traits and familial history and like hell he's going to have the happy ending tied up with the bow - like I think he gets a bittersweet one and eventually goes off with the wildlings bc he belongs there after being jon snow first of his name (bc like hell he's not reclaiming his bastard background at the end of this entire mess I'm eating my hat if he doesn't) after splitting the seven realms and fixing things but that's hardly the neat happy ending the chosenone™ usually gets so that's my two cents

... christ this was long *raises hands*

#jon snow #tagging for the lulz i guess #janie writes meta #ch: jon snow #long post for ts #tldr jon snow is a kurt cobain stan in disguise in westeros and chosenones™ aren't nirvana stan coded #and i'm dying on this hill xD

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fallingappleshurt · 4 years

Text

Do y’all wanna see the VERY BASIC outline for my AU based off the Project Pink story, this shit that I wrote while sleep deprived

Too bad have it anyways

(I will be adding a lot more to this AU and might change some stuff but here are just the basics, god I’m tired)

ANYWAYS Finding a Home

There aren’t really any set age ranges or stories in place for this yet, it’s more just a brain dump word vomit thing

Techno:

-A really good student even though he procrastinates all of the time

-He really likes to read

-Has really big boxy glasses that are too big for his face (He’ll grow into them eventually)

-He has claimed himself to be Wilbur’s protector of sorts, making sure he doesn;t do anything too reckless or stupid and overall just trying to help him

-He has stopped Wilbur from doing so much stupid shit, you don’t even know

-They have been through about 6 foster homes before being placed with Phil

-They were split up once but after a few weeks Techno got sick of his home and met up with Wilbur, who hid him for two days before getting busted

-They put Techno back in the same home but he ran away again, he saved up money and stayed in a gross motel for a day then in a park for another before being found

-Finally he was placed back with Wilbur and they were put with Phil

-Techno is obsessed with space, absolutely star-struck (haHA) by it

- The different planets and their environments, stars, comets, he thinks it’ll all super interesting

-He has those shitty glow in the dark stars on the wall next to his bunk

-Once he and Wilbur snuck out to the woods at night and climbed up a tree to star gaze away from city lights

-(Majority of their ‘delinquent stuff was before they met Phil)

-He and Wilbur would spray paint animal faces on water tanks and abandoned properties

-They spent half of their childhood in a kind of crappy neighborhood with weird streets, trashy houses, and the town was overall just dumpy

-They would wander around and explore some of the closed off or abandoned houses just to see what was there

-They couldn't do this any when they were placed with Phil, who lives in the suburbs

-They can still cause chaos, somewhat, where he works

-Techno and Phil go to the library everyone, it’s become a tradition

-Techno likes pigs, enough said

Wilbur:

-Dirty crime boy

-Has definitely hidden from the cops before, nothing that serious

-Really likes to play the guitar

-He has fairy lights hanging around the top bunk of his bed, there was nothing to hang them on so he taped them to the wall

-He is actually really good with spray paint

-Phil got some old wooden boards for Wilbur to paint on instead of private property, cause, ya know

-He gets is paint from some rando at school

- He really likes to adventure and sneak around

-Half of the stuff he does gives Techno a heart attack

-Wilbur is okay at school but he doesn’t really like it but for some reason he is really good at science

-He’s mad there isn’t a guitar option for the band or orchestra

-At an old foster home he would steal an older siblings guitar to practice with, he did this so much to the point where they would have to lock it away so he couldn’t get to it

-So he learned to pick locks

-So they had to hide it in different places

-He really likes the ocean, especially coral reefs and sea animals

-He wants to scuba dive some day!

-Techno learned a bunch of ocean facts and will randomly spew them at Wilbur

-He enjoys it

-Wilbur likes to listen to Techno talk about anything like books, shows, movies, anything that he is interested in and will listen to Techno talk about it for hours, it’s especially interesting when he’s passionate about the topic and Wilbur can see him getting more excited and into it

-Techno has books that’d read outloud to Wilbur when they were younger, sometimes when they can’t sleep, he’ll read out loud again

-Wilbur really likes stickers and has a box of them but doesn’t know where to put them so they just stay in the box

-He keeps collecting them though

-He teaches Tommy the guitar every Thursday

-He will randomly walk up behind Techno and rest his chin on Technio’s head

Phil:

-He is the manager of a mall (BEAR WITH ME)

- He has fostered kids before but never adopted before Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy

-He is good at handling chaos, thank god, and isn’t really phased by half of the stuff his kids do

-He gardens, he randomly started one day and found out he has a green thumb

-He also is a good cook and spends time trying to teach the boys how to cook, or at least not set the kitchen on fire

-Techno and Tommy show promise but Wilbur might be a lost cause for cooking

-He has a heart tattooed on his left wrist

-The bucket hat is something he wears when gardening

-He bought Wilbur his first guitar and a song book to go with it, later on he got Wilbur a notebook so he could write songs or anything he wanted to

-He takes Techno to the library every week, the first time they went Techno only got a few books but the next time he got like 16 and some of them were thick boys and Techno couldn’t carry them all

-He has taken all of them to the aquarium and Wilbur almost lost his shit trying to see everything

-Techno read all of the fish information tablets and Tommy liked the interactive pool where you could poke rocks and shit

-He brings them to work with him sometimes and lets them wander around the mall, praying to god they don’t set shit on fire

-He is really patient with Tommy but once they got comfortable with each other he had no problem teasing him, all of the boys really

-He really likes birds and has a bird feeder in the tree in their backyard

Tommy:

-Gremlin

-That’s it

- He is super energetic and bouncy

-He has trouble falling asleep sometimes because of this

-He is loud and can be rude but means well

-He wasn’t super interested in a lot of things but he loves legos, even if there aren’t any specific things he has to build, he just likes to make giant towers with them and sets them up around the house

-They have all stepped on so many legos, oh so many legos

-He’s really smart but has a hard time focusing so he gets help from Techno and Wilbur, and Phil, sometimes

-His knees are constantly scraped

-He made friends with a kid named Tubbo from school, they became close friends really quickly

-Tubbo and Tommy switched bandanas, Tommy gave Tubbo his red one and Tubbo gave Tommy his green one (YES I’m going THERE)

-Tommy doesn’t let anyone else touch it

-None of the others actually knew about Tubbo, they’d ask who gave him the bandana and he’d say some girl from school or something

-After awhile Tommy wanted to see Tubbo outside of school so he lied and said he joined a club then would go hang out with Tubbo after school at a park

-This went on for weeks until Techno and Wilbur got suspicious, Wilbur actually cut class and followed Tommy, who was still in elementary, like 5th grade, at the time and got out earlier, and saw him meeting at a park

-He didn’t find this to be that bad and told Techno but not Phil

-Eventually Tubbo got to meet the rest of the family but that wasn’t until sixth grade or so

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

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Cross My Heart I

Summary: No one wants to go to a wedding by themselves, especially when it’s the wedding of someone you haven’t seen in nearly four years. Going with Caliban was definitely a bad decision, but it was still better than going alone.

Masterlist Part 1

Word-count: 1.3k+

A/N: should i be finishing up infernal? yes. am i writing another fake dating au? also yes.

Photo by Jessica Lewis on Unsplash

The college years were some of Caliban’s finest. High school had been a few years of heartbreak, when people were just beginning to experiment with bad decision-making. But bad decisions abounded in the college years, and Caliban was a favorite among bad decision-makers. He had all the makings of a tremendously bad decision: long hair, tattoos, and a devilish smile. Caliban was a bad decision that was bound to be repeated.

Looking back on all his drunken escapades, Caliban felt a certain stirring in his chest. He’d had fun, sure, and everyone on campus knew his name, but he’d never made a real connection with anyone other than his flatmate. Now that they were packing up for graduation, Caliban wasn’t even so sure he could count on Adam to be there once they were in different parts of the country. He’d already spent the last month putting blue post-it notes on everything he owned and pink ones on all Caliban’s stuff.

There weren't many pink post-it notes throughout the apartment; just on the coffee table, the french press, and the books on the living room shelf. The shelf itself had been there when they moved in, but Caliban had filled it up with secondhand books and Adam had added the lost and found box after one too many houseguests had forgotten their belongings. There wasn’t a post-it on the lost and found box. Ruefully, Caliban took a swig of his coffee, reached over, and stuck a pink post-it on the box.

Caliban had spent the past four years of his life being everyone’s favorite bad decision, but the college years were coming to a close and he was coming undone. He had been full of guts and dopamine and - according to you - full of shit. At least, that’s what you told him as you waded through the moving boxes to the living room.

Finally, you made it around the boxes and into Caliban’s line of view before climbing on top of the coffee table - the only uncluttered surface in the entire apartment. “Jesus Christ, is the Second Coming happening and no one told me?” you asked, bending down to shove Caliban’s legs off your stage.

Caliban sighed and put his mug down on the coffee table, making a dark rim on the top of a blue post-it. He nodded at his flatmate, who was in the process of adding another box to an already teetering pile. “Adam here likes to be prepared.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed Caliban’s coffee as you straightened up again. “Yeah, tell me about it.” You grimaced after taking a sip of his coffee and spun around to focus on Adam and his post-its. Caliban suppressed a laugh. “So are any of these boxes for next week or …?”

Adam groaned and smacked his head against his notepad. “I knew I forgot something,” he mumbled. He wiped his face and looked up at you. “I can’t go with you next week, babe. I thought I told you.”

“Well, you didn’t-” You paused to finish the coffee and grimace, holding out your index finger as an indicator to wait “-and now I’m going to have to be the only single person at that entire wedding.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think anyone would buy us as a couple anyway.” Adam held his hand to the side of his mouth and leaned in as if to tell you a secret. “On account of me being a flaming homosexual and all.”

You punctuated your next sentence by waving Caliban’s mug around. It was one of the ceramic mugs you and Adam had made in sophomore year, with badly painted curse words coating the outside. “I know that, but all I wanted was a drinking buddy, not a real date.”

“So take Caliban. His liver is practically indestructible at this point,” Adam said, shrugging. “Plus he’s hot enough to make that podunk ex of yours jealous.”

“If I wanted to have someone sleep with half the wedding party, I would have asked Caliban,” you said irritably. You crossed your arms and tightened your grip on the mug.

“You know I’m still here, right, darling?” Caliban asked, tilting his head up to you and nudging you with his boot. “This is still my apartment for two weeks and three days.”

“I wasn’t really talking to you, angel.” You were trying very hard to ignore him, but Caliban made himself very hard to ignore. He could tell by the annoyed look on your face that you were, at the very least, considering it.

For a moment, the apartment was nothing but silent anticipation, and then Adam laughed. “You two are ridiculous,” he said. “You hooked up one time about a million years ago, and now you’re like mortal enemies?”

You scoffed. “We’re not mortal enemies, he’s just insufferable.”

Caliban rolled his eyes, but he smiled at the memory of being one of the first bad decisions of your college years. The two of you had met at a bar in freshman year, got into an argument over Green Day songs, and went back to the apartment to see who was right. A couple of drinks later, and the two of you fell asleep to the sweet serenades of 21st Century Breakdown. Caliban woke up the next morning to his record player skipping tracks, a pounding headache, and you and Adam dancing to Taylor Swift in the kitchen.

You’d said afterward that the best part of that night was meeting Adam and stealing Caliban’s old Coldplay t-shirt.

“He’s also kind of your only option,” Adam said, shrugging again and adding something to his notebook.

“Actually, until someone asks me, I’m not anyone’s option,” Caliban said as he fidgetted with one of the knick-knacks on the side table. He smiled devilishly at your irritation.

You and Adam argued with one another without saying a word, something about your relationship that had always made Caliban envious. He'd never been close enough to anyone to communicate in looks. Eventually, you groaned and turned to Caliban. Through gritted teeth, you asked, “Caliban, will you go to a wedding with me?”

“Say please.”

“No.”

“Then no.”

You glowered and Caliban grinned. “Please,” you added reluctantly.

Caliban set the knick-knack to the side and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and chin resting in his hands. “What’s in it for me?”

Adam scrambled around the boxes to diffuse the situation before you exploded. Dragging you down from the coffee table, he said, “You get a couple weeks away from your crappy family.”

“That all?” Caliban tilted his head.

“That and I won’t smother you in your sleep,” you said. When Caliban didn't say anything, you rolled your eyes and added laundry to the list.

Caliban was about to say something particularly spiteful when you sighed and leaned your head against Adam’s shoulder, mumbling that this was useless. Adam adjusted his grip to make you more comfortable, and Caliban’s heart softened. He’d never had someone to lean on like that.

“I’ll go with you,” Caliban said slowly as he got to his feet, “On one condition.”

“Which is?”

Caliban smiled his most angelic smile. “Promise me you won’t fall in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes and untangled yourself from Adam. “Are you serious right now?”

“As serious as the two of you were about getting breakup bangs after the debacle with J-”

“Don’t you dare say his name,” Adam said, pointing an accusing finger at Caliban’s chest.

You shook your head and started the journey back through the boxes. “I’ll pick you up next Friday. If you’re not outside by 9am, I’m leaving without you.”

Caliban rocked on his heels and tried in vain to catch your eye. “So, do you promise not to fall in love with me?”

Without so much as a pause, you said over your shoulder, “Cross my heart.”

Adam laughed, and Caliban probably would have laughed as well, maybe even said something witty, if he wasn’t distracted by the pink post-it stuck to the bottom of your shoe.

Taglist: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @marrypuffsstuff @igorsbby @foji2000 @hxlalokidottir @artaxerxesthegreat @thxmagic @luquincy @strawberriesandknives @xealia @hotmessindisguise @acciomaximoff @reheated-coffee @sweetrogers @shelby-x @perseny-blog @millie-753 @luneerius @shizzybarnaclee @lettherebelovex @drrramaaaqweeen @throughparisallthroughrome @ietss @thebookwormlife @mechanicalanimalz @mariamermaid @nqbmf @roxytheimmortal @shephard17895 @andie-kathleen @clockworks-world-to-fandoms @blondeeee-e @piensa-bonito @supportstudies @bookishaficionado @perfectlysane24 @sophia-of-sass-gard @insomniac-nerd-posts-things

#cross my heart #caliban #chilling adventures of sabrina

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

Text

Btvs Headcanons:

Hc: You work in a store they frequent, meet them that way, and feelings develop. How each character would show you that they care about you/ask you on a date after getting to know them.

Edited to include Oz. [Jenny Calendar hc is separate here ]

Warning: one small mention of sex. and in one hc the store is a butchers

I thought this would be fun, maybe a little different than my usual. You can request some people that aren’t on here if you like. Or a different job or scenario where you would meet them.💜

Spike:

- you work at a 24 hour store, he comes in at weird times of the night

- You catch Spike stealing and take pity on him, letting it slide (he looks a bit gaunt, maybe he’s not eating properly)

- There’s no cameras the place you work is crappy so you maintain eye contact and just nod at him, allowing him to take whatever it is he’s concealed under his leather duster

- He’d start to come in and either blatantly steal so you would catch him and talk to him or buy lots of stuff he didn’t need with money he had ‘borrowed’ from one of the scoobies

- He talks a lot and appears to be trying to impress you, it makes you smile

- But also he’s very attentive to you and asks you things about yourself, wanting to learn everything he can

- He starts waiting for you, watching through the glass, going through whole packs of cigarettes making sure you’re okay and no customers are being nasty

- He will come in and threaten to drain them dry if they say one more horrible thing to you, it’s happened twice

- He follows you home before eventually offering to walk with you

- He’ll probably bottle all of his feelings up for a long time, professing his love in a very heartfelt speech and crashing his lips to yours before actually asking you on a date

Angel:

(I’m so sorry if you don’t eat meat)

- You work at the butchers and Angel used to come in all the time really early before the sun rose

- You were embarrassed such an attractive man saw you in your overalls smelling of raw meat

- Too embarrassed to ask yourself why he wanted so much animal blood

- You soon had his regular order ready and waiting for him, he always seemed to be in a rush. This meant there was a little time for you to talk because he already had his order

- You instigated, asking him lots of questions with you getting one word answers (you think he’s not interested and stop)

- But he’s just trying to keep his distance, he knows what happens when he gets too involved. Things seem to go wrong

- He eventually bumps into you after work one evening, not able to stay away completely

- You work long hours so he’s trying to make sure you’re getting home okay by hanging back in the shadows

- Eventually starts to offer to walk you and you happily agree, chatting nonstop about the delivery or what you were taught that day about slicing into something

- He enjoys just hearing you talk, not able to help smiling at the way you animatedly recount your day to him, eventually one day he’ll offer for you to visit his place making a date out of it

Xander:

- you probably work with him, one of the many jobs he took on after high school

- you both work at a pizza place, he delivers you make the orders

- he acts really weird around you at first, dropping things and stumbling over his words when he speaks to you

- he cracks some childish jokes but you laugh along with him, finding him sweet

- he grins wide when you start to joke back, pulling funny faces behind the manager’s back when it’s turned

- He’ll be thinking of asking you on a date for a really long time, probably since he first met you

- He’s nervous and he doesn’t want you laughing in his face, he probably doesn’t think he has a shot with someone as great as you

- But he just rushes out and says it one night when you’re both grabbing your jackets to leave

- You smile, scan his face to check he’s joking, then nod and say you’d love to

- You go to the Bronze, have a contest to see who can catch the most peanuts in your mouth (if you’re allergic, it’s some other competition, maybe who can finish their drink the fastest)

- He might let you win and then just lean straight in and kiss you when you celebrate

Buffy:

- Buffy comes into the late night store you work at for gum or snacks (something she can carry while she patrols) she recognises you as her regular cashier after a few months.

- I feel like she has a lot on her plate, forgive her for not noticing you straight away

- She’s probs trying to get over someone atm or struggling to trust after her last relationship

- You’re extra friendly with her and she realises after talking it over with Willow that you were actually flirting

- Realises the brief interaction she gets with you makes her feel happy. Real happy and she doesn’t have to be responsible for anyone but herself when she’s chatting away with you

- Starts to ask you questions about yourself enjoying your company. Every time without fail she asks when you get off work, she’s concerned you’re always walking home in the dark

- starts to loop back past your store when she’s on patrol, pretending she was still in the area when you got off

- offering to walk you home a lot, accidentally dropping a pile of weapons once and having to pretend she was doing a woodworking class

- she eventually asks you on a date, encouraged by her friends to make the first move, and you’ll go to the Bronze, dancing and laughing the whole time

Faith:

- you work at the convenience store near the Mayor’s office

- She comes in on her way back to her crappy motel

- she feels a bit conflicted about sneaking around behind Buffy’s back but your bright smile to greet her almost makes her forget

- you caught her eye pretty much the first time she saw you waiting by the register

- she usually asks for some smokes and started to offer to share one with you on your break

- if you smoke, you say yes, if you don’t you say you’ll still come outside with her on your break to keep her company

- you’ll mostly talk with her chipping in at first and then she finds out how good it is to vent to someone

- your break’s over but you tell her you don’t want her to be on her own struggling through her thoughts

- you ask if she can wait, but she doesn’t really do waiting around

- she does give you the address to the motel she’s staying at though and she’ll smoke every hour until she sees you walking

- this is your first date, the one you count as your first date anyway

- you spend the whole night talking, sometimes even laughing. You make her feel like a person, not just a Slayer

Cordy:

- you work at the mall. Specifically a boutique or somewhere Cordy regularly visits

- she’s kind to you but a bit abrupt if you start talking about anything that isn’t a sale

- her dad no longer has any money and she’s a struggling actress after hs and you overhear her phone conversation about how hard everything is

- she wants this pretty dress that you know she’d look beautiful in

- you offer her your employee discount, telling her to keep it quiet

- after that, she specifically requests you and after her fifth visit realises she has been coming and looking forward to seeing you more than the dresses

- this means she’s in deep

- she won’t beat around the bush, she’ll ask you if you won’t ask her

- “Bronze. 8pm” with a little wink, hauling her shopping bags with her before leaving

- You have a great time and you meet up again she does little fashion shows for you before you go out, liking your eye for fashion and asks you to help her choose outfits for your dates

- She’ll want to go public places for dates to show off your relationship

Giles:

- Book store (obviously)

- You’re the most knowledgeable about his particular interest (cough, demons, cough) and he is attracted straight away to your apparent intelligence

- You already know about demons and everything, having studied it extensively as well as running into a vampire late one night and managing to get away unscathed

- He marvelled at this and you tell it so casually, explaining that you just did what the books told you and put it in practice

- He’s lonely really, always hanging around people a lot younger that don’t take him as seriously as he takes himself, but you do

- You think he’s fun to be around, he probably doesn’t wait too long, asking you for a drink the first or second time he meets you.

- He knows life’s too short, especially in Sunnydale

- You appreciate his dry humour and the way he isn’t just bookish, he has a lot of really great qualities

- You haven’t seen him as Ripper, but you know it’s there. He’s open with you and he’ll tell you about his past. He believes in trust

- You go on a lot of dates after that first drink, you even get introduced to the Scoobies and become a kind of parent figure too

Riley Finn:

- you bag his groceries at the supermarket.

- He’s always polite, makes you feel like a human being not just somebody serving him

- Always chats about the weather or something generic that won’t compromise his job, but he likes talking to you

- He occasionally makes a comment to make you smile because seeing your real smile, not the one you put on for customers, is so much sweeter

- He’ll probably come in regularly, same time, same day every week for his shopping now (bc you’re there)

- Bumps into you accidentally while you’re stocking a shelf and helps you pick everything up, smiling at the way you get a little flustered, insisting it was his fault not yours

- He’ll probably ask you if you’ve ever heard of the Bronze, which of course you have because that’s the only half-decent place in town

- Says he’d really like to see you there, like maybe tonight, so you go and have a really great time

- He says he doesn’t want to wait to see you again, but he’s very respectful will probably give you his number so that you can call him first and you don’t feel pressured into a second date or anything

Willow:

- You work at a magic shop

- you help her find the ingredients to a spell she’s been itching to try and give her little tips

- She really likes that you know lots about magic and what ingredient you could swap out for a better result

- You’ll grow close, she’ll pop in and tell you how well/badly the latest spells went

- She’ll tell stories in her characteristic way and you’ll smile at how cute she is and her fun vocabulary you’ll find yourself picking up

- You’ll offer to meet her and help her out with some spells

- She’ll bounce off the walls in excitement

- Probably spend the whole day making sure her dorm room is ‘just right’ for you to see and that she’s made sure about ten times that Buffy is definitely going to be out

- You’ll do the spell, it’ll be a big success because working together shows you that you have this amazing connection

- Then you’ll be talking and sharing loads for hours

- She’ll take you to the Bronze if it’s not too late, if it’s too late she’ll ask what you’re doing at the weekend and invite you then

Tara:

- Also at a magic shop. Probably specifically the Magic Box, after Giles takes it on

- You’re a Scooby and Tara’s moved to Sunnydale for college. She wanted to check out the magic box straight away

- You catch each other’s eye and she looks a little shy

- Starts to stutter when you make conversation, but you’re patient with her, giving her time to finish her words that have become jumbled in your presence.

- She asks for help with finding something only when she absolutely has to, but you’re always kind with her when she does and she smiles so bright when she finds what she’s looking for, scrunching her mouth to the side a little when she looks back at you

- You start to recommend places in Sunnydale for her to check out, trying to gauge if she would be into you or not. You eventually offer to take her and show her around and she nods excitedly

- You both have a really great time and she makes you feel special. She talks a lot more now she’s comfortable with you

- you suggest you could try some magic together, only if she wanted

- She does, you meet up a lot and you date and magically create a cat to own together

- You both have a long, happy life together

Anya:

- You work in the magic box with her. I feel like you both didn’t get on at first

- you didn’t understand her and she felt misunderstood, making her snappy and blunt with you

- eventually, you started to understand she needed a bit of time and you explained yourself more. Why you were doing things, being patient with her and fully giving her everything you could to help her understand the reasoning

- she really appreciated it, nobody ever did this for her without some level of teasing

- she explains about being an ex-vengeance demon. You can’t say you’re shocked (you live in Sunnydale and work in the magic box)

- you were patient with her and she quickly asked if you could start having sex trying to plan out your relationship

- you told her you would rather get to know her first, especially considering you worked together (leading to a chat about workplace relationships going wrong, which leads to an anecdote about her knowing this because of her vengeance days)

- but the feelings were undeniable and you started dating very quickly

- she’ll probably start dropping hints about marriage or the equivalent very soon too

- you work at a record store.

- He comes in pretty regularly, but he doesn’t really say much

- Not until you notice a record he’s holding and start to gush about it

- Your manager told you to talk to customers and encourage them to buy more, but this wasn’t that. And he could tell

- He loved your enthusiasm and he wanted to get to know you

- You caught his eye probably one of the first times he saw you working behind the counter, humming to a song which happened to be one of his favourites

- He just knew then that he wanted to date you

- whispering, “who are they?” but to himself because he always come into the store alone (he wants the experience, just him and the music… and maybe a glance or two at you)

- He might bring some fliers in one day, asking if the store will put them up, advertising Dingoes’ latest gig

- He’ll say you could come, if you want, with a characteristic shrug

- And you’ll obviously say yes and he likes how excitable you are, you contrast with his chill vibe

- And you go and have a great time

- then you talk after, telling him how cool his band is

- You’ll hit it off, finding his phrasing and humour endearing. He’ll gift you a guitar pick from your first sort of date. He’s a romantic

- You’ll mostly come to wherever he’s playing and have a date after

- he’s very sweet, very caring. Always offers to take you somewhere else for a date but you insist on supporting him and getting a drink after

- won’t be much of a talker, but you will always feel loved by him

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calanthemavis · 3 years

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LEMON - a Renesmee Cullen one-shot, inspired by “Thirteen” (2003)

"Renesmee Cullen!", the teacher barked. I heard snickering behind me, causing me to roll my eyes. Not another day of them laughing at my name. If there was anyone to blame, it was my mother. She could have chosen any other name (well, except for Edward Jacobina or Gertrude), so why had she chosen Renesmee? To honour her mother and my father's adoptive mother. So dumb.

The teacher ignored the laughter of the students and roared at me to read the next poem in the textbook. I was stuck in an English Literature class and we were learning about poetry. I personally thought our teacher made the class even worse and more boring than it was. Neither it was advanced enough for my mind, nor my classmates seemed to cooperate and make things easier with their constant snickering and gossiping.

The material was far too easy. We were preparing for our SAT exams and we were just now learning about poetry?

I let out a small sigh before opening my mouth to read the example on the page of the textbook:

He was crippled but only his bodywas cracked It's not easy, nor is it an easy matter to explain. "Let's just leave it at that," she says and closes The Holy Book of Lies. She covers her eyes, denying to herself what she thought happened.

The class snickered yet again. What the fuck did they find amusing enough to laugh? The poem? The way I had read it?

Having just read the poem, I personally found it relatable. I could easily identify myself with the woman and the man could definitely be Jacob. The way I interpret the poem had to do with the imprinting. Ever since Jacob (in the presence of the rest of my family, of course) had revealed to me the truths of imprinting, I hadn't spoken to him. I had refused to look him in the eyes. I needed time to process this and everyone was making it even harder for me.

My heart ached that there was practically no one on this planet who appreciated me the way I was without some magic being involved. Dozens of vampires had fought to save my life but only because hybrid children (like me) were somehow alluring to everyone (supposedly). If that was the case, then why did my classmates think I was nothing special? Why hadn't they struck a conversation with me during the past couple of years? And before you blame me for being antisocial, here is my defence: every time I'd tried speaking to them, I would be met with snickering, snickering and even more snickering. So much for "Oh, honey! Everyone will love you! You're a hybrid, you attract people the way honey attracts bees!". Well, I had to be some sort of honey that was too sweet to be eaten, the kind of honey people would be repulsed by (did such thing even exist?).

The bell rang before the teacher could even give us homework. I now had to have a lunch break which would be followed by a free period. Only, however, I wasn't going to sit in the cafeteria with everybody else. I had learnt that nobody would ever want to sit by a freakshow like me. Luckily, very few people came outside, especially to the corner where I hid.

When I made sure nobody was watching me, I snuck a hand in the pocket of my jeans to retrieve a lighter and a cigarette. Thank the Lord that my parents never checked what I hid in my clothes. I didn't want to have to resort to sneaking stuff in my bra or panties - that would be gross.

I had learnt to smoke as soon as I had begun attending this school. So far nobody seemed to be aware of that. Covering the smell of cigarettes was not as hard. I could easily lie that I had stood next to smokers after classes. After a long conversation with my mother and a therapy session with one of my uncles, my dad had begun to trust me more and to not snoop on my private thoughts (the biggest mistake ever if you are the parent of a teenager).

Smoking made me feel older. It made me somehow feel connected to my human side. I was aware of the consequences, but truth to be told, I didn't care. So what if I died? Everybody died, even vampires! Fear of death, in my honest opinion, was the most ridiculous fear to ever exist. Yes, death was devastating, but it was part of life.

And when I put the cigarette between my lips, ready to inhale and exhale one more time, I closed my eyes, never allowing myself to rush. I wanted to take my time, to live in the moment. Smoking was a privilege. I could only do it outside and as long as I was out of my father's reach. If my mind was safe, then so were my cigarettes as well. I couldn't exist without them anymore. They were the only thing that still kept me where I was.

My sweet safe heaven.

Jacob and I were at his place. One week later, I had forgiven him, alas not so easy. I needed something from him and I had the feeling that he was the only one who could give it to me.

We were sitting on the couch in his living room, as the TV was distracting him. That was when I knew I had to execute my plan. If he had imprinted on me and he would do anything for me, then what was the problem in him being the one to have the key to my virginity? I was sick and tired of being supposedly sixteen and pure. And my father could go and shove his 1910s moral values in his ass. Or my mother's. I wasn't like them. I wanted to be cool. And the cool girls had penetrated vaginas. They thought I couldn't hear them in the toilet? Perks of being a vampire-human hybrid.

Or so I had thought.

At first, it was easy to mimic women from books and television and to begin planting small kisses on his neck, as he was still distracted by some crappy TV series. But when I attempted to straddle him, he pushed me away, knocking me onto the carpeted floor.

"What the fuck was that for?", I exclaimed, trying to hide the fact that I was in pain. My bum was throbbing.

"What is wrong with you?", he raised his voice at me. He had never done that. Not even the previous week when I had shouted in his face and hadn't wanted to see him ever again.

Even trying to play dumb didn't work. He continued screaming about how my parents would freak out and how we weren't even in a relationship. Apparently, he wanted to follow my parents' advice and to wait until marriage. Loser.

I squeezed my lips into a thin line and grabbing all of the dignity I still had left, I rushed out of the small house, seeing red. How could he do this to me? Wasn't I supposed to wear the pants in this relationship?

As soon as I was far enough away from the red house, I began pacing back and forth, feeling humiliated. Fuck Jacob. Fuck my classmates and my teachers. Fuck everyone! Only cigarettes didn't betray me. And they never would, because they were objects, toys to calm people down.

I quickly lit a cigarette to calm myself down. I thought I would be left alone, but, of course, God had another plan for me.

I was smoking, trying to be discreet when I heard footsteps. And who did I see when I looked up? Seth Clearwater. Just my fucking luck.

It was too late. He had seen me with a cigarette in my hand. I quickly dropped it and furiously stepped on it with my foot. Seth's eyes never left mine. They looked as if they were going to pop out of his face at any moment. And I couldn't blame him. If anyone I knew in real life saw me like that, they would be disturbed by the view as well. Besides, no one expected the miracle child of the Cullens to be a smoker. Well, too bad. Expectations never lead to good things anyway.

"Nessie? Was that a cigarette in your hand?", he screeched. If he was even a little bit louder than he already was, the whole reservation would hear us. As if it hadn't been more than enough that Seth had already seen me and was going to do God knew what! Especially since he was studying Medicine. I wasn't in the mood for being lectured about smoking. My body - my choice!

From anger, I pulled him by the collar of his shirt so that our eyes could meet. And then I hissed in his face like a snake:

"If you dare to tell anyone about it, I will never forgive you, got it?"

I had never seen Seth behave like that. He looked as if he had seen a bear and had pooped in his pants from fear.

I knew I had been incredibly rude to Seth. But he was Jacob's best friend. I couldn't let him tattle on me.

"Renesmee Carlie Cullen! What is this?", my mother roared as soon as I stepped into the main house. My father had insisted on picking me up from school that day. During the entire journey back home, he hadn't spoken a word to me. One damn word. And I was about to find out why.

Then, when we arrived home, I was taken aback. In the family room, everyone had gathered, looking like they had just witnessed a murder. At first, I was confused. What was going on? Had anyone died? And then I noticed that my mother was holding a bag. But not just any - it was the one where I kept every secret.

My heart was beating rapidly. I could feel sweat forming on my entire body. My face was probably flushed like a tomato. Now I looked like I had seen a bear and had pooped in my pants. Karma was a bitch. And I was about to pay for everything I had done.

My mother poured everything... and I mean everything on the coffee table. My hidden packets of cigarettes, my lighters, my stash of money I had been stealing from my parents for quite a while. How else could I afford my goodies? I had a green little monster inside of me that I had to satisfy!

Aunt Rosalie's gasp was the loudest. Both her palms had covered her mouth and her eyes were even wider than mine or Seth's the previous day. I imagined she was in disbelief that her own niece could do stuff like that. Even uncle Emmett couldn't calm her down.

Something was making my heart feel as if it was being squeezed with bare hands. But what was it? Was it guilt? Or was it the shame? Or was it just because all of my secrets had been exposed in a matter of seconds?

And how had my family found out in the first place?

"Seth," my father loudly confirmed my suspicions. He had to have told Jacob, who had to have informed my family. What else?

I wanted to break everything around me. To burn the whole house, including my whole family and me. Or to at least sink in the ground and to never re-appear.

Instead, when I was asked why I had done all of that shit, my body betrayed me. Cries escaped from my mouth as I dropped on the floor like a puppet without somebody to control it. What was the point to fight back? I was defeated. Outnumbered. All I could do was to allow myself to be taken in somebody's cold arms. I wasn't controlling my mind anymore. My father could now see the treatment I had been receiving from my peers for the past couple of years and how it had contributed to my new unhealthy habits. How the imprinting had deceived me, how I had almost lost all of my dignity the previous day. He could see that I wasn't okay and that I hadn't been for a while.

"It will be alright," I heard cooing in my ear, but I couldn't register whose voice it was. Scratch that. I couldn't register anything except for my own wailing.

That night I wept in my mother's cold embrace until I fell asleep. And when I opened my eyes the next morning, it was a new day.

Long three years had passed since that day when my secrets had been revealed to my vampiric family. Long years full of therapy sessions, family time and some dates with Jacob until we broke up. He had decided to stay back in La Push and I wanted to move on. I supposed imprint didn't always end up the way Sam and Emily had - with a happy family after all of the troubles they had endured. On the bright side, Leah (Sam's ex) was now in a relationship with Jacob. They wanted me to bring the rings on their wedding day. Aunt Alice was already sewing me a dress.

It was my first day in a new school. I was starting my second cycle of high school again by myself. I was hoping it would be better than the previous one. If not, then I didn't know what I was going to do. I couldn't be cooped up at home all day long. Despite the fact that I was going to be forever young, that didn't mean I couldn't contribute to society somehow. But that would come later on. I wanted to allow myself to be a teenager first, to gain some experience before University and from there I would decide what job to find.

My mother had driven me to school that morning. She thought it wouldn't be so bad, since I was pretending to be a ninth-grader. Most fourteen-year-olds still spent time with their families, including allowing their mothers to pick their clothes for school and to drive them to school. There was still time for everything. No need to rush. I had grown up in the blink of an eye and had caused trouble for everybody.

And now that I was chronologically almost fourteen, I could let myself behave like one. Fourteen-year-olds, as much as they despised it, still needed the adults in their life. And after years of attempting to be a pseudo-adult, so did I. No matter what, I would always need my family.

On the ride to my new school, I had sat in the front and had chosen the music to allow myself to feel calmer. The previous night, I had had a nightmare for the first time in years. I had woken up at three in the morning, drenched in sweat as if I was a little girl again, scared to death by the Volturi. I had barely slept, allowing my nerves to take over me.

Before I left the car, my mom grasped my hand. She wanted me to look at her and so I did. She made me promise her yet again that I wasn't going to do any foolish stuff anymore. Or else those three years of therapy would be for nothing.

I released a breath I had attempted to hold, "I just hope that this high school experience will be better than my previous one, you know," I wanted to chuckle, to be funny. But I found nothing amusing in my words.

My mother looked at me with a hint of concern in her eyes, "Don't worry about that. You'll do great, okay? And if something is wrong, don't hesitate to come to us. We are here for you."

As soon as she was done with her pep talk, I couldn't help but throw my arms around her, holding back tears. This time, everything would be different.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee: https://ko-fi.com/keepfaithbaby

#thirteen #thirteen 2003 #renesmee #renesmee cullen #fanfic

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hawkeish · 4 years

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3. You made me a Christmas playlist but it’s just Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is you”. I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s a joke --- for (you know it) Carver/Merrill :D

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS PROMPT IT IS FANTASTIC, here’s 1400 words of modern Carver/Merrill fluff written for @dadrunkwriting because I have no restraint and too much time <3 I hope you like it!

no CWs, but there’s some swearing (I promise my Hawke siblings love each other, in a brutal way!)

also my modern Merrill’s a postgrad studing Art History & Cultural Studies - repairing the eluvian is her research project.

read on AO3 if you want!

It’s the evening before everything shuts down for Satinalia, and it’s started to snow.

Which would be nice, if only Carver wasn’t stuck outside Merrill’s door, trying not to break a magical mirror which possesses far too many poky bits as it pokes right into his side. Fingers numb with cold, he’s too busy fumbling with the ridiculous amount of keys she gave him to appreciate the beauty of the Alienage in Firstfall. Bedecked with wreaths, shining baubles and flickering garlands of lights, the vhenadahl is like something from a fairy-tale, dusted with a gentle sigh of snow.

Snow, lights, whatever. Any other night, Carver might let himself be enchanted. But right now, he has one priority—get the damn mirror into the damn apartment without breaking it even more.

And yet here he is, falling at the first hurdle: locked out, with Merrill’s most precious possession leaning on him at an angle that’s making him nervous. It’s not exactly going well. But it needs to go well. He promised he’d get the eluvian - carefully swaddled in some enchanted cloth to “protect him”, whatever that means - from her studio at the Viscount’s College of Art back to her Lowtown home in one piece. If he doesn’t, he’s not sure what might happen. He doesn’t want to know what might happen. Her degree? Ruined. A vital piece of her people’s history? Lost. And as for Merrill herself?

She’d probably never speak to him again, and shit, he can’t think of much worse—

Click.

The random key he’s shoved in the lock twists, and the door swings open before him.

“Thank the fucking Maker,” he mumbles, then picks up the mirror and barrels into Merrill’s tiny home.

Merrill’s flat is much like Merrill. As in, modest, pretty, and filled with a frankly terrifying amount of knowledge. There are small cairns of books dotted between potted plants and thrifted armchairs, alongside art prints leaned up against walls and notebooks littering her paint-flecked desk. Though she doesn’t celebrate Satinalia, there are a couple of decorations over the tiny fireplace, too. And—is that spice he can smell?

As Carver carefully sets down the eluvian by the window in the corner like she’d instructed, he catches sight of something in his peripheral vision. Two steaming cups of wine-dark liquid set on the coffee table by the fire, and beside them, a neatly-folded note.

Curiosity gets the better of him. Carver wanders over and gingerly picks up the paper, a frown puckering his brow as he unfurls it.

C. Merrill’s handwriting is pin-point neat. I just wanted to say - I do really appreciate you doing this for me. Creators, there’s no chance I could lift that thing on my own! You really are my chevalier in shining armour. I’ll send you a little something to say thanks. M x

That x does something strange to him; a small chill runs up his spine, and Carver puts the note back down in a fluster. Just as he does, the phone in his pocket vibrates. Still frowning, he pulls it out, then squints at the text that’s screaming up at him from the too-bright screen.

alright dickhead! hope you’re having a lovely day of being a burden on society! did you get the message?

Carver doesn’t need to read the sender’s name to know it’s from his sister.

Go back to making shit coffee for people who’ll never sleep with you, he types. And what message?

Surely Ri wouldn’t mean the note. Why would she know about the note? As far as he can tell, Merrill only asked him for help after Aveline and Fenris made some excuse about being far too busy washing their hair, or dancing round their townhouse full of half-decayed corpses, or whatever the fuck it is that they get up to instead of being friendly, helpful people.

Carver wasn’t the first choice. He never is. Which is fine. Totally fine. He’s used to it. Knowing he’s never a first thought definitely doesn’t itch at the back of his mind, or keep him up at night—

“Maker’s breath,” he scolds himself, trying to focus back on his phone.

And then, just as he presses send, another notification pops up. Unknown number; something in him tells him to tap anyway. When he does, a little jolt of static runs through him, warm and fuzzy and disgustingly sweet.

For you, the new message reads. To say thanks. I knew I wouldn’t need to ask anyone else. You’re all I need for Satinalia. Enjoy! <3

Below it, there’s a link to a playlist. A playlist which, he notices, contains about twenty versions of the same song, All I Want For Satinalia Is You. One’s in Elven. One’s a country version with, inexplicably, some late-night TV host caterwauling over the chorus. One’s by some Orlesian crooner called Michel de Bublé. There’s even one that’s just someone playing the recorder extremely badly over a muffled backing track.

It’s an…interesting mix. As he skips through the songs, though, he can’t help but smile. Whoever this truly ridiculous playlist was meant for is a lucky person. It certainly wasn’t for him.

At least, that’s what he thinks, until he taps back onto his messages app.

Then, his heart does a weird twist in his chest, and the phone suddenly feels like a searing hot coal in his hands. Because, in bold, in the small gap above the text where the sender’s name usually lies, there’s a small line that makes his pulse skip every time his eyes trail over it.

Could this be: Merrill Alerion

Carver nearly drops his phone.

This is a joke, right? It has to be a joke. Carver feels slightly seasick. Quicker than he knew his fingers could work, he’s sent a crappy screenshot to Marian.

This???????

A few seconds pass.

Ri replies with a voice message. The voice message is a long, horrible, joyous screech.

Fuck, Carver thinks. “Fuck!” Carver says, and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

His heart’s going wild, now; his palms are sweatier than they’ve maybe ever been. The mulled wine suddenly seems like a very good idea: he takes one in each hand, trying to convince himself he doesn’t fucking hate star anise. Time to chug—

Halfway through his first glass, there’s two light knocks at the door.

Carver freezes, glass still at his lips. Then, he realises that in his haste to get the mirror in, he’s left the door open. Panic spears through him, until he remembers that he’s a six-foot-stupid ex-farmer and could definitely take on a burglar. And that burglars probably don’t knock.

Still, this is Kirkwall. Better to be safe than sorry. Carver holds his breath as he sets the glasses down as quietly as he can and starts towards the door. He’s not punched anyone in a while. Maybe the anxiety coursing round his body from that text will finally give him a decent right hook. Maybe if he catches someone trying to steal Merrill’s stuff, it’ll add to the whole chevalier-in-shining-armour thing. Maybe—

A gentle gust of wind flutters through the apartment, and the door swings open, just as Carver’s barely steps away.

When he sees who’s behind the door, he makes a tiny squealing noise that instantly makes him want to cease existing. Rosy-cheeked and smiling, Merrill stands before him. Flecks of snow are caught in her dark hair and on the chunky knitted scarf wrapped around her neck, and her eyes are glittering beneath the Satinalia lights strung up on the street outside. It’s as if she’s haloed, glowing, a beacon against the dark winter’s night.

She looks beautiful.

“Merrill,” he breathes. “I thought you were...”

“Studying?” She’s smiling, and he feels a bit dizzy. “I was. But I finished - just in time, I think! Did you get the message?”

“Uh—the playlist?” he offers. “Yeah.”

“But did you get the message?” she asks again, a grin tugging at the edges of her lips.

Carver frowns. There was a message to get? “I—what?”

“Creators,” Merrill says, half-laughing, glancing up at something above him, then back down. When her gaze locks with his, he feels his heart flutter. “Hawke said making you a playlist would be very smooth. I’m not sure I’m ever very smooth. I guess I’ll not trust your sister again.”

“Smooth?” he echoes, like an idiot.

Then, he remembers what’s hanging above her door. A sprig of mistletoe, tied up with a neat red bow.

Merrill answers him with a laugh, and a kiss, and Carver thinks oh.

#carver x merrill #dragon age 2 #modern au #ish writes #thank you so much for the prompt!#I hope I did it justice #dadwc #da drunk writing circle #and yes I did listen to different versions for 2.5 hours as I wrote for 'research'#hollyand-writes #answered

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kqbluemoon-moved · 4 years

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BUTTERFLIES !

SUMMARY :: In which Jinri has time alone with her crush. CHARACTERS :: Kang Jinri, Seo Changbin, Jung Wooyoung WORDS :: 1.1K WARNINGS :: none ( if i missed anything let me know ! )

Jinri curled into herself, reading the lyrics written down on the page in front of her. She was starting to get a bit frustrated with what she’s written so far, none of it seeming to fit the song in just the right way. Jangmi had taken one look at her old lyrics and told her she could do better, the blunt honesty being just what she needed to give her the push to make her song better. It was her solo debut after all, it needed to be perfect. Though, while fixing the lyrics seemed better in her head, Jinri now couldn’t find the right words and she was almost positive that her current set of lyrics were shit.

Jinri groaned, throwing her head back, hitting it against the mirror she was sitting against. She probably shouldn’t be taking up an entire practice room when she could just go to her studio, but she had just gotten out of practice not that long ago and really wanted to avoid running into Hongjoong when she knew he would be in his studio.

The door opened, causing the girl to look up from the small notebook, her eyes widening at the small man that walked through the door. Changbin looked around, his eyes landing on Jinri, who was tucked into the corner, barely visible from the doorway.

“Jinri! Hey!” Changbin said with a small laugh, his voice awkward as he brought a hand up to the back of his neck. Jinri hated to admit it but the small action alone made her heart start to race. “Sorry, I was looking for Wooyoung, he said he’d be in here.”

“Oh,” Jinri spoke, after a moment of Changbin looking around awkwardly, finally finding her voice. “He must be running late.”

“Yeah,” he replied and Jinri almost wanted to cry at how awkward this conversation was getting. “I’ll, um, leave you alone now and go and try to find him.”

The boy turned to walk out the door and Jinri wasn’t ready for the interaction to end, at least not without getting it to be less awkward.

“Wait!” she said, stopping the younger boy in his tracks, turning to look back at the girl. Jinri cringed internally, hoping he didn’t hear the near desperation in her voice. “You can stay here, if you want.” Changbin’s eyes widened just a bit, question clear in his eyes. “I mean, Wooyoung probably won’t be too long and he’s already going to be looking for you in here anyway.”

Changbin seemed to weigh his options for a second, before nodding slightly and walking towards Jinri, sitting down in front of her. “What are you working on?” his head tilted to the side, looking down at the book in Jinri’s hands, the small movement making the butterflies in Jinri’s stomach multiply.

“Lyrics,” she replied and watched Changbin’s face light up just a bit. “I’m the first solo and I’ kind of stressed about making them perfect, you know?”

He nodded knowingly, looking down at the book again. “Do you want a second opinion?” he asked, looking up with questioning eyes.

“You want to read my crappy lyrics?” she let out a small laugh, the grip on her notebook tightening slightly.

“If they’re anything like the lyrics I’ve heard from you, they aren’t crappy.”

Jirni smiled at the boy in front of her, shoving the notebook into his hands quickly. “Just don’t look at any of the other pages, those are future songs!” she laughed lightly, tucking her knees up to her chest.

Changbin looked up, a bit surprised, probably not expecting the girl to actually give up the notebook. “You know you don’t have to show me your lyrics if you don’t want to, right?”

Jinri shrugged. “I know, but as you said, I could use a second opinion and I think that Jangmi’s tired of reading over all of my drafts at this point.”

The boy nodded, his eyes focusing on the lyrics in the book in front of him. Jinri could feel her heart rate pick up as he continued to read, hoping that he wouldn’t hate everything that she has written so far. She wasn’t one to get scared of people reading her work, she was never one to shy away from reading her work to anyone that asked, and she remembered that she used to run to her friends with the first thought of a song, desperate to get some sort of feedback. She’s always one for constructive criticism and she knew that she was just far too invested in what Changbin had to say, but she couldn’t get her mind to stop worrying about what the boy would say. She studied his face intently, hoping to read his thoughts before he even said anything. She saw his eyes widen just a bit and she suddenly felt far more nervous than she was before as she waited for him to finish reading over the lyrics.

It only took a few extra minutes for him to finish, looking up at Jinri with an unreadable expression. Jinri could practically feel her heart stop until he smiled at her, making her nerves subside instantly.

“It’s really good!” he smiled and Jinri wished that one little movement didn’t affect her so much. “At least from the lyrics, but they’re pretty sexy.”

Jinri laughed, pulling the book back from the boy, holding it close to her chest. “Yeah,” she started, looking away from the boy’s eyes. “If I had my way I would write more songs like this, but I think Taeha would have a heart attack if I did that.”

Changbin let out a loud laugh, looking like he was about to say something else when the door flung open, revealing an out-of-breath, tried-looking Wooyoung, causing the two to look away from each other.

“I’m here!” his loud voice rang out, looking over at the two, eyeing them curiously. “Jinri, you can’t steal my friend, I need him to work out with me!”

“You don’t have to worry about me stealing your friend,” the girl replied, pushing herself up off the floor and grabbing her bag, before turning back to Changbin. “Thanks for looking over my lyrics,” she smiled, the boy smiling back instantly. “I’ll see you around.”

She turned to walk away, hearing a small ‘See you around,’ coming from the boy in the room, instantly making her break out into a big smile as she passed through the door. Jinri was so lost in her own head that she didn’t hear Wooyoung’s faint ‘Look at you making moves!’ from the room that she just left.

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luxurystark-jackson · 4 years

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Today on Elsa Rants, we have crappy villains: Voldemort

First of all, let’s start off by saying that Voldemort is definitely one of the most egotistic villains that I’ve seen. Absolute dumbass material. His main problem is that his fucking ego stops him from killing Harry as quickly as fucking possible. Honestly.

This is super obvious from the first book onwards. How easy would it be to just lure Harry into the forbidden forest and kill him? Voldy’s stupid ego wants a grand murder, and that’s his greatest flaw as well. Every single time, this dumbass tries to kill Harry spectacularly and fails. Every. Single. Time.

Voldemort’s true downfall wasn’t all that love bullshit that Harry and Dumbledore preach about.

It was his ridiculously huge ego.

The ego that, time after time, prevented him from murdering Harry as simply as possible.

This is something that’s evident throughout the series. For starters, in the first book, Voldy could’ve easily made Quirrell cast a simple Avada Kedavra in Harry’s direction and hope for the best. Even better, he could’ve just lured Harry into the Forbidden Forest to the Acromantula and let them eat him. We all know that Aragog would’ve happily let his family eat Harry, and it’s not like a dimwitted 11 yr old is going to be able to escape from that without some serious help (in CoS, Ron and Harry only escaped because of the Ford Anglia)

In book 2, Harry could’ve easily been killed by the fucking basilisk itself. Until Hermione left them a clue, Harry had no idea what the monster was. He could’ve easily been killed by accidentally looking at the basilisk in the mirror or even coming face to face with it while he was in the bathroom, for fucks sake. And then, at the very end, Voldy decided to preach about his plan, and the only reasons Harry didn’t escape were that Ginny was unconscious (he wasn’t strong enough to drag her along) and that Riddle had his wand. Even when the basilisk came out, Riddle didn’t help it kill Harry, only whispering commands. This is the person that framed his uncle for the murder of three muggles, and murdered several others as well, not thinking to just send an Avada Kedavra at this wandless 12 yr old, most likely because it wasn’t grand enough.

In book three, fair enough, there wasn’t much he could do, but at any given time, he could’ve gotten Wormtail to kill Harry in his sleep. Everyone would blame Sirius for it as well, so that kept a cover over anything Voldy did.

In Harry’s fourth year, he could’ve easily gotten Barty Jr to kill Harry more simply, but considering that there was the whole ‘rises again’ bullshit going on, perhaps not. Even then, Harry could’ve been killed at any time during the Tournament, so what would happen then? Voldy’s plans have serious flaws in them, and it makes them significantly worse. Harry could’ve easily been killed by the dragon, merpeople, acromantula, blast-ended skrewts, drowned, or been killed by imperioused Krum.

Furthermore, Harry’s barely scraped past everything the tournament had thrown at him. Fair enough. What if the chivalrous little shit decided to stay back and let Cedric take the cup on his own? Plan failed. Boom. After that, what if Harry had tried to block the Avada Kedavra and died? Double boom. Voldemort clearly hadn’t thought this through at all. Even then, after all that could possibly go wrong, he still doesn’t instantly kill Harry. No, instead he brags about this ‘win’ over Harry and disciplines his death eaters, going as far as to mention them by name, which is literally his ego predicting that Harry isn’t going to tell anyone this stuff even if he does escape (the dumbassery honestly).

Then, after all that, he challenges Harry to a duel. What does this senior citizen (so called dark lord) have to prove by beating some dumb teenager? Obviously, this fails (as if we didn’t see this coming) and Harry goes directly to the number one person that Voldy wouldn’t want him to go to. Dumbledore. Honestly, you’d think that the greatest dark wizard in the world would realise that his enemy would go straight to enemy number two, the wiser one, and report what happened.

Now we’re in fifth year. First things first, Voldemort could’ve easily taken the prophecy instead of sending his dumb servants to do it. If he is as great a dark wizard as he claims, he’s bound to have some sort of way to get into the Ministry and steal the prophecy undetected. Instead, the best plan Voldy could come up with is to manipulate Harry into getting the prophecy for him. This is literally just to show that he’s powerful (quite the opposite effect), when the smart move is to just take it himself. The greatest dark wizard of the century, which every wizard fears, can’t do something that four 15 yr olds and two 14 yr olds can do? Doesn’t sound very powerful to me.

Even then, Harry could’ve died before the end of that school year as well. He could’ve easily died of blood loss (I’m surprised that he didn’t, what with his hand being sliced open practically every evening) or from the pure pain of the Cruciatus (after all, if Hermione had failed to stop Umbitch from cursing him, it could’ve happened). Then, after that, he could’ve died by suicide (angst levels were high that year, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did).

After all of this crap, in book 6, Harry could’ve died from death eaters, poisoning, a cursed necklace, the Imperius curse going wrong, the Inferi in the lake, something from Snape’s textbook, or even just a stray curse.

Really, Voldy could’ve just poisoned Harry (like Malfoy tried to poison Dumbledore). Even the character who seems to have the biggest ego out of them all will resort to something as simple as poison. Voldemort’s ego is too fucking huge to get him to kill Harry without grandness.

Then, in book 7, how many times is Harry almost in danger? How many times is Harry unprotected? Why doesn’t Voldemort use his time, instead of looking for the elder wand, to kill Harry? Sure, we get that he literally cannot kill Harry with his own wand, but why doesn’t he just get Bellatrix or someone else to find and Stun Harry? At some point, they actually capture the trio. At this point, we do have to blame the death eaters as well, since they waited so fucking long to call Voldy up, when they could’ve done it from the start and dealt with him just like that.

Then, in the very last part of the book, the dumbass gives Harry a time frame to submit himself. No smart villain will give the protagonist a time frame, not if they wanted to kill the hero as badly as Voldy did. This is literally setting yourself up for defeat, since you’re giving the hero enough time to devise a strategy to beat you, or to find something to beat you with (as Harry ends up doing). Mr Egotistic Senior Citizen is trying way too hard to paint himself as powerful, when he could show this ‘power’ by actually killing the fucking hero in the time that he has.

Essentially, Voldemort is a dumbass, and a crappy villain whose ego is the main thinking part of his mind. How do I kill the hero as spectacularly as possible? Voldemort has shown himself continuously as the dumbest villain possible, and avoided using his actual brainpower for grandness. Essentially, he’s a crackpot old fool (see what I did there?)

Anyways, that’s it for today, and thank you for wasting your time to read my rant about how I hate Voldemort for being the most egotistical villain possible. Goodbye!

#harry potter #voldemort #Voldemort: a dumbass

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dylan-o-yumm · 5 years

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Breaks from angst? Fluffy Nero at his wedding? Possibly?

(Fuck I got so carried away with this... whoops. Anyway I had a lot of fun conjuring this one up)

Nero didn’t want a big fancy wedding with a huge ball room and ceremony with a hundred people attending. And to be honest, you didn’t either. You knew how shy Nero got about PDA, so asking him to marry you and say his vows in front of a huge crowd didn’t even cross your mind. You both knew it would be far more special if it were smaller, with just the Devil May Cry crew and some of your family and friends, a small outdoor venue, and some booze and food.

Nero was wearing a navy blue suit that fitted and hugged his muscles well, while you wore a nice knee length dress that fanned out slightly at the waist. You saw his jaw drop and eyes widen when you walked down the isle, and you definitely didn’t miss him wiping away tears with his thumb before you came to stand beside him, resting your hands in his. You too felt very emotional, unable to wipe the smile off your face as you started lovingly into his blue eyes. It was cheesy, but you felt like it were just you and him, no eyes on you except for his.

The ceremony was short, after saying your vows and exchanging rings, you sealed it all with a kiss. It was the best kiss you’d ever had, so much love and promise held in one action. You held onto his shoulders, pulling him to you as his arms wrapped around your waist, bodies pressed together while you waited for all air to leave your lungs before pulling away. You shared a loving gaze before large smiles made their way onto both your faces, the small crowd standing and they clapped and whooped. Nico and Dante were the loudest, cheering loudly like the children they are.

The night rolled by and everyone began to drink and dance, mingling and enjoying being with each other before dinner came. There was one large, rectangle table, big enough to fit all your guests around it while you and Nero sat together in the middle, able to talk to anyone you wanted to. You talked to Nero the most though, whispering in each others ears and stealing kisses every now and then, just happy to be together. You did talk to Nico, Lady and Dante as well, since they were sitting on the other side of the table across from you, easiest to converse with.

Dante stood up suddenly, tapping his whine glass with a fork to get everyones attention as they ate. You and Nero shared a worried glance at each other, not knowing where Dante was going to take this as he opened his mouth to speak. He began with warning his nephew, saying that if he ever hurts you he’d personally kick his ass, to which everyone laughed since he should be giving that warning to you instead, being Nero’s uncle and all. However, his speech didn’t end so wholesome and family friendly as he mentioned how the two of you were probably just waiting to get to the honeymoon part already.

“To Nero and Y/n! The cutest fucking couple I have ever seen.” Dante raised his glass before taking a sip and smirking at the two of you. Your cheeks were pink but Nero was too happy to care about his goofy uncle embarrassing him in front of everyone, chuckling and pressing a kiss to your temple as he too picked up his drink and took a sip. A few more people stood up to say a few words, all a lot more kind and congratulating… except for Nico, she was just as bad as Dante, if not worse.

After dinner and awkward speeches, slow music started and it was announced that it was time for the bride and groom to dance with their mother and father in law. Nero kissed the back of your hand as he went to offer his hand to your mother, pulling her from her seat and beginning a slow dance while they talked and laughed. You loved watching them get along so well. A finger tapped your shoulder and you spun around to see Nero’s father, Vergil extending his hand to you. He looked displeased that he’d be dancing in front of everyone but he did agree to do so anyway… After Dante offered to take his place that is.

You took Vergil’s hand and followed him to the open space, his hand resting respectively high up on your back while the other held your hand. Your palm layer flat against his shoulder as you both began swaying slightly in time with the music. You could hear Nero chuckling and laughing with your mother still, smiling at the sound as Vergil shifted so you could see the pair dancing over his shoulder. You smiled warmly at Vergil and figured you better strike up a conversation since he didn’t look like he was going to.

“I’m glad you’re here… So is Nero, even if he doesn’t say it” You stated genuinely, your smile fading to show him you were serious. Vergil met your gaze for a brief moment, humming as if it didn’t bother him either way before he averted his eyes again. You thought that was it, the end of the conversation and leaving you to have an awkward dance with… the devil. However he surprised you when he broke he silence.

“My son is a fool about many things. However, I believe he is doing right by keeping you as close as he is. Without power, you cannot protect anything. With nothing, power has no use” He quotes as if it were a poem but you’re sure it isn’t one, his tone lacking emotion as usual but you didn’t mind. His words hit you like a ton of bricks and you wanted to ask him what he meant but he quickly raised his hand holding yours, spinning you before letting go. You expected to be left alone, having gotten your dance and words of… congratulations? However you smack right into someone, a hand quick to grab yours and resume the position you were previously in.

“Funny bumping into you here” Dante joked, resting his hand on the middle of your back. You realised it was lower than where Vergil’s hand had been, but was still at an appropriate distance from your backside. You chuckled, fixing your hand on his shoulder and turning to watch the older brother head back to the table to watch the four of you dancing. “Figured I’d cut in since I’m clearly more of a father figure to the kid than Verg is.” Dante puffed his chest as if it were another title he was adding to his name.

“Vergil is getting better. At least he isn’t killing anyone, so thats a plus in my books” You sighed, smile returning as you stepped side to side in time with the music. Dante definitely had more energy when it came to dancing than Vergil did, his feet tapping and hips swaying. Either way the two seemed to be pretty good dancers but in different genres.

“I hope you have some tissues, kid. Cause I’m about to get sappy on you here” Dante warned, slowing his movements down considerably as he held a serious expression on his face instead of his usual smirk and carefree smile. “Nero hasn’t had a proper family before. It wasn’t until he started working for the business that he had us to call his family. He’s had a crappy life, no mother or father… until now, but thats not the point.” Dante frowned, telling you things you already knew but you didn’t dare interrupt him.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is thanks. I don’t think he was ever truly happy until he met you, and when you two started dating it was like a breath of fresh air for him. You changed him in ways I didn’t think were possible, but I’m glad you did because… I don’t know where the poor kid would be without you…” Dante was so uncharacteristically serious it sent shivers down your spine, but what he was saying only made your eyes well with tears. “So… thanks. For being there for my punk of a nephew when no one else was. Both Vergil and I owe you a great deal for you simply being you” He concluded with a soft smile.

You didn’t have words to express what you were feeling. You wanted to tell him that it was your absolute pleasure, being there for Nero, being with Nero… its been the greatest life because of him and you felt like you should be thanking him. It was Dante who introduced the two of you anyway. Instead you forgot about dancing for the moment to wrap both arms around the legendary devil hunters waist, hugging him tightly as you forced your tears away so you didn’t come back with puffy eyes.

Dante laughed, patting your back as he hugged you back. You didn’t let go until you heard someone behind you clear their throat. You turned around to see Nero smiling softly at you, your mother already walking back to her seat as he stood before you. Dante pressed a kiss to the top of your head before walking off, too, going to sit down the the rest of your guests to watch what everyone has been waiting for.

Nero held a hand out, letting you slide your palm against his as you stood to him. He gently tugged you into the middle of the dance floor, walking backwards as he did so, before pulling you to him, going to rest his hand on your waist like the two men before him did. Instead, you felt the overwhelming urge to be closer, far more closer to him. You didn’t give him the chance to react as you flung your arms around his neck and buried your face in the crook of his neck, body pressed firmly against his. He must have been shocked, the small crowd chuckling at the two of you as he settled for wrapping his arms around your waist, bowing his head to hide his face in your neck as well.

“You feeling okay?” Nero asked and you nodded against him, chuckling at the fact that he was worried right now when you were holding each other as you swayed to music. Your chest was so warm and heavy with love and appreciation for the boy in front of you, Dante’s words echoing in your mind and you were sure they’d stay in your brain for as long as you were alive.

“I just feel… so damn lucky” You breathed out, pulling back slightly and cupping his face in your hands to pull his face up, off your shoulder. You didn’t care that people were watching, and he seemed to let all PDA slide for today, since he usually wasn’t a fan of it. You pressed a soft peck to his lips, smiling when he chased you for a longer kiss. “I love you so damn much” You whispered.

“I love you more. But, you got one thing wrong” Nero sighed happily, squeezing your waist a little as he pulled you tightly against him. You guessed what he was going to say before he said it, but hearing the words still made you smile like a love sick teenager non the less. “I’m the lucky one here” He whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.

Dante, Nico, Lady, all your family and everyone that were watching the two lovebirds on the dance floor, wished they had a love like yours. Thew were all smiling and imagining themselves in your position, being with someone they love like that. Everyone was happy. Even Vergil couldn’t help but smile at the two of you embracing each other, ignoring everyone’s eyes no you. Nero was all that mattered to you and you were all that mattered to him.

#nero x reader #nero dmc #devil may cry nero #nero sparda #nero #dmc nero #nero/reader #nero/you #nero x you #nero angelo #nero sparda x reader #nero sparda imagine #nero imagine #dmc nero sparda #nero sparda dmc #dmc #nero devil may cry

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mintchocolateleaves · 6 years

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On The Nature of Daylight (1/3)

Summary: Years ago, he should have asked for an answer, but he didn’t. And now they’re here – Shinichi crashing on Ran’s sofa, the night of their best friend’s wedding, and everything is horrible because he can’t stop thinking.

A/N: Don’t worry you guys, we’re not going to have to wait for the updates on this. It’s finished, I’ve written it all! Please enjoy the latest dose of ShinRan I have in store for you! Next chapter will go up on Thurs / Fri.

“You’re paying for the taxi,” Ran says, and she’s giggling slightly, drunk. In the back of the taxi, she fiddles with the keychain on her phone, and Shinichi watches, quiet, trying not to overthink that it’s the same one he got her years ago.

He doesn’t want to think about that.

“It’s my turn,” Shinichi says instead, because it’s the answer they both want to hear. That Ran paid for the last taxi, when they’d both left Sonoko’s engagement party to head back into Beika, and that now, after the wedding reception, it’s Shinichi’s turn to pay up.

“We don’t get a lot of taxis, do we?” Ran says. She tilts her head and says, “I feel almost like a queen when I get driven around places, doesn’t happen as often these days.”

Of course, it doesn’t. She’s not following her father and Conan around to crime scenes anymore, and that’s a good thing, Shinichi knows. No – now, they catch the metro lines in and out of the city, getting to and from work and realising that things aren’t the same as when they were kids.

“They’re expensive,” Shinichi says, because he doesn’t really think that there’s any other sort of response he can give. He can’t exactly say that he’d drive Ran to and from places, because he only has a crappy car and they’re not – they’re not like that.

Maybe they could have been, once, but that had been then. Abroad. Before the truth had come out and Shinichi had never asked about it again so Ran had never given an answer so–

So maybe Ran is a queen, but Shinichi is definitely no where near royal. He’s just a detective.

“Hopefully not too expensive,” Ran says, and presses her lips together. She pauses, as if she’s trying to think of something and then shakes her head. Stays quiet, “If it’s too much, we can split the fare…”

“No,” Shinichi says. His words slur together, and he thinks maybe it’s because he’s had one shot too many – because Sonoko is married now and Shinichi is still single, still trying to detach himself from a reality and… “It’s alright.”

When he gets home, Shinichi knows there’s a bottle of wine waiting in the kitchen, and maybe it’s bad to drink your sorrows away, but it’s only one night and there’s no work waiting for him tomorrow so…

The taxi pulls in to the side of the road. Ran’s apartment. Shinichi’s only been up once, when he’d been helping her move in. She’s invited him over for dinner before, but there’s always been a case, or he’s always found something else to do.

She turns to him now and offers a small smile.

“To Sonoko,” Ran says, and she’s happy. Of course, she’s happy, she’s the sane one of the three of them, she knows that it’s customary to be happy for the bride, not wishing you could be swapping places with them.

“To Sonoko,” Shinichi says in response, and he smiles, lifts up a fake wine glass and pretends to clink it with Ran’s. She offers him a bright smile, the kind that reminds him of hearts racing, and high school and times when he would just watch her so he would never forget the curves of her lips, the faint blotching of freckles around her nose.

“I’ve got actual wine upstairs,” she says, and Shinichi pauses, waits for her to continue. “We can have an actual toast?”

They’ve been toasting enough at the wedding. With sake and beer and wine imported from the Mediterranean. Shinichi feels almost like he’s out of fake cheer to impart into a toast, but Ran is watching him, and she looks almost nervous like he’s going to shut her out again, so there’s only really one answer.

“The taxi…”

“You can steal my sofa for the night,” Ran says. She’s not being particularly forceful, but she is ruining the only line of logic he’s got.

And Shinichi is drunk, and it turns out that drunk Shinichi is more likely to do what he wants to than sober Shinichi, so he nods and pays the driver and says another toast will be okay.

Ran’s apartment has a very western approach.

It’s nothing like Shinichi’s – there’s life to it, it looks lived in and Shinichi glances around, wondering what the texture of the rug is like. Whether the couch will be softer than his bed, or whether it will leave him with cricks in his neck tomorrow morning.

He glances around, at the T.V, at the laptop on a glass coffee table and thinks that it’s very fitting for the woman who went on to become a lawyer. It’s clean, but not clinically so, and Shinichi can imagine Ran lounging around, relaxing on her days off with a glass of wine and a book, reading up on… on whatever she reads these days…

Shinichi hasn’t asked.

“Make yourself at home,” Ran says, as she hands him a pair of indoor slippers, waving towards the couch. Shinichi heads forward, finds himself sitting at the edge of the sofa. It’s soft, and he falls into it without really falling.

It’s definitely the type that will fuck his neck up though. But it almost feels worth it.

“I – yeah,” Shinichi says, “will do.”

And yet, no matter how much he knows she means the words – Ran has always said the phrase not out of obligation but because she means it – Shinichi can’t feel comfortable at all. His chest feels tight, and he’s starting to imagine who else she might have said this to in the past and fuck.

He squints his eyes shut and tells himself it’s easier not to feel.

This is why he’s been avoiding Ran’s apartment.

“I’ve brought wine,” Ran says, re-entering the room from the kitchen. Her tone is light, but Shinichi can’t bring himself to turn and look over at her. She settles next to him; a clink of wine glasses being placed on the table and then – then she nudges his knee against hers.

Shinichi opens his eyes.

“Sorry,” Ran says, “I didn’t stop to think that you might be tired.”

He offers a smile, his lips curling up. It’s a fond smile, something that he shares with those he’s closest too and he hopes it doesn’t border on anything more than that. He says, “Not too tired.”

“That’s good,” Ran says. She opens the wine, pours into one of the glasses and then, pauses. She offers him another smile and adds, “Is red okay?”

Shinichi swallows. Forces his eyes from her to the wine glass and says, “You drink fancy wine.”

“I do,” Ran says. After another pause, she asks, “do you?”

“Sometimes.”

It’s not a lie. Shinichi will drink pretty much anything based on the company he’s keeping. With co-workers, he tends to stick with beers and sake, and whenever he meets up with Hattori, they’ll drink shots. His parents drink wine, and so, Shinichi’s picked up that habit.

Ran raises an eyebrow at his answer but doesn’t ask. Instead, she passes him a glass of wine, something he takes with little hesitation. He takes a nervous gulp, glances around the room.

There’s a photograph on the mantlepiece. One that Shinichi recognises, has imprinted in his memory, even if he finds it too hard, sometimes, to look at his own copy.

Shinichi and Ran. A picture from the end of high school, the two of them grinning at their graduation. There are multiple variations – Sonoko and Ran in another photo, the three of them in the next. But it’s the photo with just the two of them together that catches Shinichi’s attention.

He drinks another gulp of wine.

If he keeps gulping down the wine, then Shinichi’s going to drain it before they can even make a toast. And that’s definitely not a good idea – not if he doesn’t want Ran to call him out on it.

“So Sonoko’s married now,” Shinichi says. “I wonder who’s next.”

There is a small choke where Shinichi catches Ran off guard. She splutters, wine dripping back into her glass, lacking in any ladylike manners, but Shinichi finds himself more enamoured with her than displeased.

She doesn’t need much time to collect herself, but Shinichi stays quiet anyway. He’s not sure why, really, his question has caught her off guard. It’s an honest one, and maybe it’s also Shinichi’s way of prying, to open the conversation to asking if Ran is seeing anyone but that’s fine.

It’s not odd.

“I–” Ran pauses. Then she says, “My bets are on Sera.”

The last time Shinichi had heard about Sera’s love life, it had included the two of them drinking their sorrows away on unrequited love. Somehow, the idea of Sera being married next, is the furthest option from his mind.

He raises an eyebrow at Ran, and asks, “really?”

“Yep,” Ran says. She pops the letters, her lips caressing over the word, and for a moment, all Shinichi can do is watch her. Watch her lips, notice how they’re stained red from the wine.

She licks her lips and Shinichi follows the flick of her tongue.

He wonders, briefly, how she would taste, if he were to move forward. If he were to place his hand on her knee and cup her chin up, caressing her lips with his own–

Shinichi blinks, and lifts his eyes up to meet Ran’s. Her gaze is speculative, confused. Of course– she– he shouldn’t be–

“Shinichi…”

“I should go,” Shinichi says, pushing himself up. He feels flustered, which is stupid, because he’s an adult and imagining a single kiss shouldn’t leave him feeling completely out of touch with the rest of the world. “I’ll call a taxi.”

He buries those feelings down and decides that he’ll never let himself be drunk enough to let them show again.

Something flickers behind her eyes. Shinichi doesn’t want to read into it, but he does, because it’s her and he always wants to read into her, always wants to understand. More confusion. A sense of loss.

Are they going to lose everything if Shinichi presses forward?

“No,” Ran says, “You should stay. You said it yourself, taxis are expensive.”

Shinichi isn’t sure whether it’s a suggestion, or an order, but he’s stood up now, and he’s heading towards the door. It’s almost as if the words aren’t registering in his mind, because all he can imagine now is what it would be like to be with Ran and it’s not– they’re not–

“Shinichi,” Ran says, and her voice wobbles, grief mixed with something else. He’s not sure what. “Stay.”

He pauses. There’s something in her voice that tells him that she won’t ask again. That she won’t let herself be vulnerable enough to ask again, and fuck – now the choice is his and Shinichi is selfish enough to want to stay.

“I need to phone –”

He breaks off and looks down. Ran’s stood now, and he stands in silence, simply trying to figure out what to say next. What to do. He doesn’t know what the correct answer is.

The silence stretches on, and finally, because he makes no attempt to grab his phone, Ran says, “I’ll get you a blanket. Alright?”

Shinichi nods, and he’s not sure why he feels numb, but he does. He knows that he’s still drunk, knows that the alcohol won’t leave his system so quickly, but somehow, he’s never felt more sober in his life.

Ran returns long enough to finish her wine, and Shinichi swallows the rest of his. Then, she leaves him with a blanket on the sofa, retreating to her bedroom.

She closes the door behind her and it’s the answer to a question Shinichi hadn’t even needed to ask.

He lies against the sofa and closes his eyes, but he doesn’t sleep.

Instead, Shinichi raises his palms to his eyes and presses them against his eyelids. He applies pressure until his forehead is throbbing, until there is only white burning against his eyes, bright spots against his vision.

He should have asked.

Years ago, he should have asked for an answer, but he didn’t. And now they’re here – Shinichi crashing on Ran’s sofa, the night of their best friend’s wedding, and everything is horrible because he can’t stop thinking.

Shinichi doesn’t sleep.

He waits until the sun is starting to rise in the sky, and then, he forces himself to his feet, looking around the room. His phone is dead, but the watch on his wrist states that it’s almost six a.m.

The trains will be operating now. Shinichi could head home.

He pushes himself off of Ran’s sofa, folds the blanket into a square and tries to straighten himself out. Shinichi manages to transform his suit from crumpled mess, to dishevelled bachelor, and it’s enough of a transformation that he’ll be able to deal with the looks that will follow him on the train.

Then, his gaze lingers to the wine bottle and the glasses on the table.

“Fuck,” Shinichi mutters. He leans forward and grabs the glasses, brings them into Ran’s kitchen. “Should have stayed in the taxi.”

Water scalds his hands, but the glasses are clean, no wine inside to remind Shinichi of how much he’d wanted to cross the line with Ran, nothing to remind him that Ran had seen how much he’d wanted it too.

He leaves them to dry on the side, leaves the kitchen behind and pockets his phone and wallet.

“You’re leaving?” Ran says, when Shinichi reaches the entrance to the apartment, switching slippers for dress shoes. He tugs at his laces a little too tightly, grits his teeth at the bite against his skin.

Shinichi turns to look at her. Her hair is mussed, knotted, and she’s wearing a nightshirt, but even despite that Shinichi thinks she’s–

“I thought you were asleep,” Shinichi says, because he’d rather avoid his own thoughts than answer them when she’s right in front of him.

“I’m a light sleeper,” Ran says, which is… not entirely true. They’d lived together once, when Shinichi had been lying to her, and he’d learned that when Ran slept properly, she slept deeply. But maybe that’s changed.

Another thing he doesn’t know.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Shinichi says. He offers a smile, “But yeah, I’m heading home. Got some cases I need to go over.”

The mention of cases gets him a frown, somewhere between irritation and a pout. “You work too much.”

“Probably.”

“Put it off for today,” Ran says. Her voice is a whisper, “Let’s just hang out today, like we used to.”

Shinichi watches her for a moment. Reads her expression, tries to figure out just what she wants from him.

For a moment, he can’t read her, and that’s more terrifying than a rejection could ever be.

“I’m sorry,” Shinichi says, “The cases are really important. I’ve got to finish them soon, if I ever want to make detective.”

Ran blinks. “Why are you running from me, Shinichi?”

“I’m not,” Shinichi says, and reaches for the door. “I’m just busy. We’ll figure out another day, do it then, I promise. When we’re both free.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him. Heck, Shinichi’s not even sure he believes himself.

“Shinichi–”

“Thanks for letting me stay,” Shinichi says, and he practically scrambles for the exit when he feels Ran’s frown settling onto him.

“You look like shit,” Hattori says by way of hello, when Shinichi sidles into the station, settling at his desk. It’s strange seeing the Osakan in his department, but they’ve got a serial killer and Hattori’s been brought down since the killer operates both in Osaka and Tokyo.

“Yeah,” Shinichi says, and lets out a rough laugh. The sound scratches at his throat, and he considers grabbing a cup of coffee from the break room before going back over his case files. “It was Sonoko’s wedding last night. Just a little hungover.”

Hattori raises an eyebrow.

“What’re you doing in now then,” he asks, “weren’t ya meant to have the day after the wedding off?”

Shinichi was. But he’d said he was busy with a case, and that was his reason for not spending the day with Ran, so he’s going to make the lie true. Plus – he does want to see this killer caught. Sooner, rather than later.

His silence must drag on too long, because Hattori’s expression shifts. Only slightly, but where there had been just exasperation at Shinichi’s quote ‘workaholic’ attitude, there’s now concern.

Which is just fucking great.

“I have some theories I want to look into,” Shinichi says, not quite a lie but not quite the truth. He has theories sure, but they’re all barely formed, small wisps of an idea, not a smoking gun. Nothing pressing enough to come in on his day off. “So, I’m here.”

“You work too much, Kudo,” Hattori says. Shinichi knows that he wants to say more, but he doesn’t and for that, he’s glad. He focuses instead on case files, and not Ran, anything but Ran and her lips and her eyes wide asking for him to stay–

He pushes away from his desk with enough force that he almost topples over.

“Gonna get some coffee,” he mumbles when Hattori’s gaze falls back onto him.

Ran enters the precinct a little after two o’clock.

Unlike this morning, where she’d been messy, sleep swimming in her eyes, hair mussed, drowning in the fabric of her pyjamas, she looks more presentable. Less like the teenager he’d lived with, a long time ago, and more like the woman she’s grown to be.

She enters looking slightly harried, slightly worried, with a small carrier bag in one hand and a handbag gripped tightly in the other.

“Nee-chan’s here,” Hattori says, because his nickname for Ran has never fully fallen out of use. He raises his eyebrow when Shinichi sends her one final look, sips at his coffee and turns back to the files.

There is a moment when Shinichi thinks Hattori won’t bring notice to his avoidance, but Hattori is not a very subtle person. It doesn’t completely surprise him when Hattori stands, waves a hand and beckons Ran over to their shared desk.

Ran slips into a spare chair a few seconds later, between both detectives and Shinichi tells himself that it’ll be easier for him not to look up. So, he doesn’t. He focuses on the murder and shit, he shouldn’t be associating blood splatter to wine and Ran but now he is and if that isn’t fucked up then Shinichi doesn’t know what is.

Hattori kicks him under the desk.

“What the hell was that for?” Shinichi hisses. Fuck, when Hattori kicks, he goes full pelt with it. He meets the Osakan’s eyes, watches as Hattori’s gaze flickers between him and Ran.

“Don’t be rude,” Hattori says, as if he’s talking to a child. As if they’re both talking as if Shinichi is Conan.

Shinichi glares at him and then, schooling his features into something more neutral, he turns to Ran. She’s wearing earrings, studs in her ears made of silver that are designed to look like sharks.

They’re… nice.

“Hey,” Shinichi says, “why’re you at the station?”

From the way Hattori kicks him again, it’s not the best opening to a friend visiting you at the station, but well… if Ran had needed to go to the station, she’d have mentioned it earlier when he’d said he was heading to work. So, it’s not like she’s in any trouble.

Unless something has changed since this morning.

“Is everything alright?” He adds. “You’re not bringing us a case, are you?”

Ran shakes her head. She pauses, hesitates as she glances between the two detectives and then says, “I – uh, well, when you left this morning you left your keys, so I thought I’d… bring you them.”

Oh yeah – his keys. Part of Shinichi had almost forgotten, seeing as when he’d gotten back to his apartment, he’d just grabbed his spare key when he’d realised he’d left his own at Ran’s.

Hattori’s eyebrows don’t raise as much as they disappear past his hairline. He says, “Kudo, it’s about time for your break, why don’t you two go get coffee or something?”

Shinichi doesn’t think that this is exactly a good idea, and he knows his friend has the entirely wrong idea, but Ran’s forceful when she agrees, telling him they’ll bring Hattori something back.

Shinichi frowns but there’s nothing he can do, not really, so he closes his mouth and stands.

“I’ll be back,” he sighs.

Ran corners him the second they’re alone, although he wouldn’t quite call it cornering him, since the road between the police station and the coffee shop on the other side of the street is hardly impossible to escape from, if needed.

And fuck, why is Shinichi thinking of escape right now?

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Shinichi thinks to himself, ‘it’s because you know you want something you can’t.’

Ran crosses her arms in front of him, and maybe Shinichi could bolt, could run but she’s as fast a runner as him and Shinichi cannot run forever. Instead, he tenses and watches her, waits, firmly rooted in place.

“What?” Shinichi asks, when she just watches him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ran says, and fuck, her eyes are watery. Somehow, Shinichi’s messed up enough to make her cry. Again. “What have I done to make you constantly want to run away from me?”

“Nothing,” Shinichi says. Everything, he wants to say.

“Bullshit!” Ran cries, and now the tears slide down her cheeks. She says, “I don’t understand. We were fine, we’ve been fine but every so often, you just disappear from me. Last night we were doing good, we were fine, especially in the taxi and then in my apartment you–”

“Nothing’s changed Ran,” Shinichi starts, overlapping. “We’re good. I promise–”

“You won’t even look me in the eye.”

Shinichi doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. Because what is there to say, really? He can’t exactly turn around and explain that he becomes distant every time Ran falls into a relationship with someone else, can’t explain how he knows she’s not his, but he gets jealous anyway.

How can he explain that he doesn’t want to look her in the eye because then she’d know?

“I’m busy, Ran.” Shinichi says. “I’m sorry I can’t be around all the time, but I have work and–”

“I’m not stupid,” Ran says, “I know that you’re not the type to drink on a work night. You’re only working now because I suggested we spend the day together and I – what’s it going to take for you to stop lying to me?”

His heart stutters in his chest.

“I’m not lying,” Shinichi hisses, because he’s done with lying. He spent months lying to Ran when he was stuck as Conan and now, he’s maxed out. There’s only avoidance or truth and sometimes he chooses the former more but that’s only because the latter is, so god dammed, hard.

“Omitting things counts as lying, Shinichi,” Ran says, “you’re a detective, you should know that much.”

Ice floods through him at her words.

“I’m not–” Shinichi flinches, chokes on the words, “I’m not lying to you.”

Ran waits. She watches him, and one moment she’s angry, and the next her expression is soft. She steps forward, arms wrapped around him, comforting because – fuck, Shinichi shouldn’t be this upset at the thought of lying to her.

She’s angry at him, but now she needs to comfort him? God, Shinichi’s the worst.

He’s even worse, because he leans into her touch. Because he hugs her back as if she’s a part of him, as if she belongs in his arms, as if he’s allowed to feel this complete when she’s with him.

“Shinichi,” Ran whispers, and he buries himself in her neck, cricking his neck to do so. “Shinichi, what aren’t you telling me?”

Everything. Nothing.

Because he’s not telling her how he feels, but he had. He told her once in another country, and it had felt like another world, or another life, but he had meant it.

He’d meant it.

“Shinichi,” Ran says, “Shinichi, look at me. What aren’t you-”

He forces himself to look up, and he’s closer to Ran. He can see her freckles, and the cracks in her lips. He can see the fleck of her eyes, a darker blue swimming in the light and he sees too much and nearly nothing at all, but it’s Ran, all Ran.

“Ran,” he breathes, and the sound is strangled. As if she is his undoing, as if she is his saviour.

As if she is going to leave him damaged, heartless because fuck, Shinichi would give everything he has for her, but he’s never known whether she would do the same for him.

He doesn’t know if he’d ever ask that of her.

But he wants to.

“Shin–”

He breaks her off. He presses his lips against hers, and maybe he should be asking, maybe he shouldn’t be forcing this but Shinichi… Shinichi needs this.

He closes his eyes, and he lifts his hands from their hug up to Ran’s cheeks, holding her there. The kiss isn’t chaste, but it’s not rough either. His nose brushes against Ran’s, stubble that he’d been too lazy to shave away this morning catching across her cheek.

“Ran,” he moans against her mouth, and he’s willing to lose himself in her, wants nothing more than to steal her away, make her his. Another moan goes unheard in the wind, in her mouth, and Ran moves her arms, lifts them up and–

Shinichi remembers where he is.

He stumbles as he pushes himself back, as if he is something to be restrained, as if touching Ran any more will bring down the wall that he’d built to keep himself from feeling too much, wanting too much.

Too late, buddy, Shinichi says, because it’s already crumbling.

“I shouldn’t have–” Shinichi can’t meet her eyes. He runs a hand through his hair, pulls on the strands, “Ran – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“Shinichi, it’s okay.”

“No,” Shinichi says, and he feels a feral sort of panic welling in his chest when he looks back up at her. There’s something in her expression, but he can’t read it, doesn’t want to read it, so he ignores it. “No, it’s not okay.”

“It is,” Ran whispers, but she’s too quiet for it to be the truth. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not,” he says, “I should never have – I – Fuck, Ran, what are you doing to me?”

He doesn’t give her the chance to respond. He doesn’t want to know the answer to the question he’s just asked.

[Part Two]

#Oh my god guys look at me I have an UPDATE SCHEDULE FOR THIS! I hope you enjoy the fic!#Kudo Shinichi #Mouri Ran #ShinRan #DCMK #Detective Conan #mywriting #Fic: On The Nature of Daylight

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duhragonball · 6 years

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Dragon Ball Z 011

Hot damn! It’s time for Terror on Arlia! This is probably one of the best filler episodes ever. It’s like, the driver’s ed episode, the Goku vs. Pikkon fight, and this. I’m not sure how I’d rank them, but maybe I’ll work on that sometime later.

First off, some time has passed once again since the last episode. Now, Gohan is strong enough that the dinosaur that keeps attacking him is no longer a threat.

Gohan just calmly runs away from it, then jumps right before he runs into a boulder, and the dinosaur hits it instead.

Then he hacks off a piece of the dinosaur’s tail while it’s stunned. Again. Gohan’s apparently been doing this for a while now, and he warns the dinosaur that it’ll run out of tail at the rate they’re going. The message is simple: Don’t eat Gohan’s friends.

Gohan has also figured out how to make his own ki blasts, which is pretty high-level stuff. His ki may only be powerful enough to start a fire, but it’s way more than most of the other characters could have done at age four.

Meanwhile, Bulam, Krillin, and Yamcha are looking for Tien and Chiaotzu. Or maybe they’re just talking about looking for them now that they have Yamcha. I’m pretty sure the Gohan scenes are taking place over the course of several weeks, while these Z-Warrior scenes are supposed to be playing out over the course of a single day. Even if it really is taking this long to find Tien, why would Krillin and Yamcha be with her for the whole search? They’d be better off heading to Kami’s Lookout, so they can start training for the Saiyans.

Speaking of Tien, Launch is on the run from the cops for stealing a bunch of money for Tien.

She eludes the police with a grenade launcher.

So she escapes with the loot. Most of it anyway, a lot spilled out of the back while she was being chased.

But never mind that, here comes Vegeta. He and Nappa are on their way to Earth, and they set their space pods to put them in stasis for the year-long journey, but Vegeta programmed it to wake them up at a certain point along the way, so they could get out and stretch their legs.

Seems he found a planet along their course for Earth, and since the Saiyans conquer planets to sell for profit, he sees this as a way to make some nice profit on the side. This seems a bit out of character for Vegeta, given what we learn about him later on. I would think that the Planet Trade business is just something he puts up with until he can find a way to get out of it. So it’s not that he wouldn’t want to take a pit stop on the way to Earth, but I doubt it would be to score some extra cash.

Anyway, Nappa just wants to get out of the pod and move around a bit, so he’s up for anything.

And here’s the lucky planet they’re going to. It’s called Arlia, and it looks really crappy, even from a distance. There was an episode of Mythbusters where they tested the futility of polishing a turd, and it ended up with them making piles of dung into spheres. That’s what Arlia looks like.

The planet actually manages to look even worse up close. I don’t know if the boys meant to set down in a desolate area like this, but I always got the impression that most of the planet looks like this, so they didn’t have much choice. Vegeta concedes that they probably won’t find a buyer for Arlia after all. I figure this is the sort of planet a Space Trillionaire would buy, but only because he wants to feel like a Space Quadrillionaire.

Suddenly these big bug people show up. I don’t know why they’re so much bigger than Nappa, when the rest of the Arlians we see are not. There’s a lot we don’t know about the Arlians, and we’ll probably never know. They threaten to arrest the Saiyans and take them to King Moai.

Nappa’s eager to fight them, but Vegeta orders him to stand down for the moment, since he wants to see this Moai guy for himself. I guess he figures the planets’ leader would be in a more advance (read: valuable) location, which would give Vegeta a better idea of what Arlia has to offer.

Notable, this is the first indication of Saiyans using telepathy. Goku uses it later on, and we’ve already seen Master Roshi, Crane Hermit, Korin, and Kami use it, but it always seemed to be this mystical thing that only wise old martial artists could do. Oh yeah, and King Piccolo could telepathically communicate with his offspring.

I guess what I find interesting about this instance is that Vegeta uses it rather casually, when he could just as easily whisper to Nappa, or maybe use some nonverbal gesture to get his point across. The point here may be to indicate just how scary-powerful Vegeta is, but the thing about Vegeta is that anything we see him do can be applied to every other Saiyan character. If Master Roshi can read minds, it sort of stops there. If Vegeta can communicate telepathically, that means Nappa, Raditz, Goku, and Gohan can too, along with every other Saiyan character that hasn’t been introduced yet. Vegeta might be the only one who knows how at this point, but that’s just a matter of skill.

So here’s Moai’s stronghold, and guess what, it’s also a dump. I’m not complaining about the artwork, mind you. This scenery is breathtaking. The twin suns sort of make this look like a face, with the clouds forming a furrowed brow. It’s like the Arlians’ god is looking down on the castle, and he’s not happy with what he’s seeing.

Also, while Moai’s fortress looks moderately impessive, it’s surrounded by absolutely nothing. What happened on this planet? My guess is that it was ruined by centuries of war, but it’s also possible that the Arlians prefer it like this.

Vegeta and Nappa are taken to a dungeon, which looks like something from a Prince Valiant comic. This is the paradox of Arlia, because it looks like the Arlians are generally familiar with alien visitors, implying that they’ve been exposed to advanced technologies, but their own world is backward and medieval. They don’t even seem interested in the Saiyans’ ships or their scouters. And they lock them up behind a wooden gate. And why do they carry swords when they all seem to have some sort of red mouth laser?

While they wait, the Saiyans meet Atla, one of the native Arlians who’s been imprisoned by Moai. Well, “meet” may not be the right word. Atla just starts introducing himself and explaining the backstory while they stand silently and face in his general direction.

From Atla’s words, it sounds to me like Moai took over the planet fairly recently, perhaps after a long civil war that killed anyone more qualified to rule. Unconcerned with actually governing his people, Moai just does whatever he pleases, using his unlimited power to enforce his whims. So there’s a good chance that the planet looks like a dump because of his indifference.

I dig this sort of thing, because it reminds me of the decline of the Western Roman Empire, where the emperors eventually became little more than figureheads backed by strong military leaders. Over time, the Roman armies became supplemented by foreign mercenaries, until eventually the top generals were all foreign mercenaries, and eventually they just dispensed with the figureheads and started ruling Italy outright. I get the impression that the emperors didn’t particularly care that their domain was being usurped by outsiders, because as long as they were comfortable in their palaces then everything was fine.

There’s kind of a similar pattern in the Bible, where you see David and Solomon’s descendants slowly letting the Kingdom of Israel decline. Rehoboam’s arrogance caused the kingdom to split in two, and while there were a few good kings who embraced piety and reform, a lot of wicked kings abandoned the principles that made their reigns possible. They worshipped idols and did whatever they liked, and then eventually they found themselves surrounded by powerful enemies. The later kings were reduced to vassals, but they didn’t seem too concerned about that as long they got to sit in their palaces and pretend everything was okay.

Atla laments that now Moai is capturing space aliens on top of oppressing his own people, which suggests that Moai only sees his rule as a right to oppress other people for his own amusement.

I wrote about this episode some time back, comparing Arlia to Westeros from Game of Thrones, or A Song of Ice and Fire or whatever the hell it’s supposed to be called. I’ve never read the books because I need that time to liveblog anime, but everything I’ve heard about it suggests that the whole story is about some backwater planet full of medieval fantasy tropes, and all the leaders are corrupt, venal idiots who only stay in charge because they’re protected by bullshit laws and traditions, or because they’re better at the endless palace intrigue that goes on in the story. There’s one kingdom that was ruled by a Draco Malfoy clone, and another run by a guy who hunts naked women for sport, and I think some character keeps fetuses in jars for no apparent reason. I get the impression that a lot of the books is just George R.R. Martin trying to use shock value to pad things out. That and lore. If Tom Clancy and Howard Stern co-wrote Lord of the Rings, you might have something pretty similar to Game of Thrones.

What I’m trying to say here is that Moai seems to just sit around all day watching his subjects fight each other for his own amusment. He forced Atla’s betrothed, Lemlia, to be his queen (she’s the pink bug lady in the back), and he has soldiers just roaming the wastelands in search of new prisoners to mess with. His men captured real live space aliens and he’s like “Oh goody! Bring them before me, because I actually believe they’ll respect the idiotic rules that keep me in power.” I’m pretty sure this is exactly what King Draco Malfoy Clone would do in this situation.

He looks and talks and acts like a complete buffoon, and he’s just begging for some hero to come along and punch him in the mouthparts. Except Atla’s in the dungeon, and some other, more competent hero must have gotten killed off three books ago (cf. A Sleet of Testicles).

And this is what I love about this episode. Vegeta (along with Nappa, of course) are sort of being put into this role of traveling heroes who enter a tyrant’s domain and set things right. They’re certainly powerful enough to do it, but we already know that’s not what they’re here for.

Vegeta kills all the gladiators and informs Moai that he only let himself be captured just to get this close to the king. It astonishes me that Moai needs to have this explained to him. He’s so used to having his own way that it never dawned on him that anyone could use his arrogance against him.

Nappa strikes his classic pose and kills all the guards.

Then Moai summons an even bigger bug creature named Yedi. Nappa asks permission from Vegeta to handle this one, which I think is a nice touch.

Nappa rips off Yedi’s finger and licks the monster blood off his face. Nappa’s awesome. He’s just havin’ a good old time.

I forget why now, but rocks start falling, probably because Vegeta’s powers cause the ceiling to break apart. Moai takes cover behind his throne...

...but a rock ends up killing him anyway. I woudn’t think that’s a vital area, but what do I know about Arlian anatomy? It’s kind of fitting that Moai should die like this, in his own throne room/gladiator arena, cowering behind his throne. He thought it would protect him like it always had done in the past, but in the end he met a power that didn’t respect anything he had accomplished. The Saiyans ignored his royal robes and saw only a fool, and so he died a fool.

Atla shows up and praises the Saiyans or liberating his planet from Moai’s tyranny. You know, he could have followed them up here and helped out. They were all in the same cell, and Vegeta and Nappa destroyed the door and killed all the guards, so what took him so long?

The Saiyans just sort of look at him, and then they get back in their spaceships.

I’m not sure why they even bother flying across the surface. Maybe they’re still surveying the planet, but it’s a crappy planet no matter what angle you view it from. At last, Vegeta gives up and they head back into space.

But before they leave, he gets out of his ship and decides to leave a going-away present. How does Vegeta breathe in space? That’s one way you can tell which ones are filler scenes. They usually play faster and looser with this sort of thing.

On the surface, Atla and Lemlia are reunited at last, and it looks like everything’s going to be okay from now on, thanks to those two heroic aliens who...

LOL JK, Vegeta blew up the whole planet.

What’s so great about this is that Arlia kind of deserved to die. Not in the strictest narrative sense, but from a metanarrative viewpoint, it was just a really dumb planet. Any world that could fall under Moai’s rule probably didn’t have much longer to live anyway, and it’s almost like Vegeta put it out of it’s misery. I’m not suggesting any of this rationalizes Vegeta’s actions. This is a horrible, horrible crime, and Vegeta did it like it was nothing to him. He’s done far worse things with even less compunction.

Even so, he’s not Arlia’s villain, he’s Dragon Ball’s villain, so it’s just satisfying to watch him squash some crappy filler planet that had no redeeming value to the story. It’s like watching your favorite bad guy wrestler clobber your least favorite good guy wrestler.

And the narrator sums it up very neatly. This is what’s headed for Earth. The Saiyans destroyed Arlia like it was nothing, and what can Earth do to avoid a similar fate? Z stands for The End.

But not yet. Not yet.

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #vegeta #nappa #goku #launch #gohan #bulma #krillin #yamcha #moai #atla #lemlia #yedi #dragon ball z #saiyans saga

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vore-scientist · 6 years

Text

In Which Sophia Makes Some New Friends

A tale of the Mystic Woods

(read the other stories/comics here, and all posts related to Mystic Woods can be found here)

THIS IS A DIRECT SEQUEL TO THIS STORY

Content warnings: No actual vore in this story, sorry! But discussion of both safe and fatal (I tried to make it humorous/light hearted, it makes sense). Also GT cuddles at the end ;)

---

Sophia paced around Yonah’s desk. After the unfortunate encounter with the meddlesome prince, Yonah had wandered off to get a healing potion. That was fine, while she waited she admired all the little things on the desk, and the books in languages that she had only begun to learn to read, but that someday she would be fluent in.

“Yonah?” came a voice. “Hey Yonah, you there?”

It was a man’s voice, and it was near. Sophia froze and looked around. The mirror, the small mirror on Yonah’s desk! She ran to it, and saw in it the face of what could only be another wizard.

The man had a red and black mustache, kind green eyes, a big floppy wizard’s hat, and beautiful yellow and blue wizard’s robes, which were accented with silver and black. His hands were behind his back and he was looking around expectantly, until he saw Sophia, and he startled, but recovered fast.

“Sayyyyyyy! You’re not Yonah!” said the man, smiling with suspicion, “Who are you?”

“I’m, I’m Princess Sophia of the Kingdom of Orr!” she declared without thinking. Then a terrible thought struck her, what if this man in the mirror was an evil wizard. Those existed! A continent to the west had an entire Society of Wizards who were always up to some evil.

“A princess...” then the man grinned like an idiot, “WAIT A PRINCESS? No shit!”

His face turned away and he shouted at someone out of view, “SHOSH! HEY SHOSH! YONAH WENT AND KIDNAPPED A PRINCESS!”

“HE DID WHAT! YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING WITH ME MICA!”

“IM SERIOUS COME TO THE MIRROR!”

A moment later a woman, also wearing a wizard’s hat appeared next to Mica and gasped. “oh dear gods that’s a princess alright!” Except for her ruby red lipstick, she had no makeup on, but she had numerous facial piercings. She had wild brown hair and large oval spectacles that made her green-brown eyes appear buggy.

Sophia fidgeted with her gown, she wasn’t some spectacle to be gawked at by whoever these people were. She wished she wasn’t in a blood spattered nightgown. She wished that Yonah was here.

“And who,” said Sophia, as sweet as she could, “are you?”

“Oh how terribly rude of us!” said Mica, still smiling, “I’m Mica, Mica Cohen! And this is Shoshana Jaffe, we’re friends of Yonah and we were hoping to talk to him,”

Sophia was stunned “Yonah has friends!?”

Mica and Shoshana burst out laughing.

“Yes dear girl, he has friends,” said Shoshana, “you can’t stay sane in a prison without them.”

“I’ve been here for two months! How have I not heard of you?” Sophia was planning to chew Yonah out about this when he felt better. What else was he hiding. Probably a lot, wizards liked their secrets... But why would he hide friends from her! How many more friends did he have?

“You mean you’re serious. Yonah hasn’t mentioned us?” Shoshana looked genuinely hurt.

“No! until now I thought he was a sad lonely man!”

The wizards laughed again.

“Well he’s not sad” said Shoshana, “angry more like, but not anymore than your average firewitch.”

“Nor is he really a man, kinda, half a man,” said Mica, thoughtfully.

“Lonely, well now, we wish we could visit more often, he is kinda stuck in one place.”

/Yeah, you can thank my dad for that/ thought Sophia. But thought it was better not to mention Yonah’s semi-house arrest sentence was handed down by her father.

“But now you’re there! This is so wonderful!” said Shoshana with glee, before turning serious, “unless, you’re lying and you’re a giant slayer, disguised as a princess.”

“What?”

“Whose blood are you currently wearing?” she narrowed her eyes.

What an odd way to phrase that, “it’s, well it’s Yonah’s but”

Shoshana raised an eyebrow, something about her presence, even through a mirror grew dark and threatening. Mica remained bright, if scared.

“Um, well you see, there was an incident this morning, with a prince, and…”

She told them what happened. They were a good audience, gasping and cheering at all the right places, and they didn’t interrupt her. Until she got to the part where Yonah ate the prince. They both looked a little green.

“He, ate the prince?” Mica’s voice shook. He and Shoshana exchanged worried looks.

Uh oh. Guess Yonah’s friends didn’t know. Too late now.

“Y-yes, but he spit him out! He ran off after that.” They relaxed, a bit, but continued to look at her suspiciously.

“And then you called” Sophia ended lamely, “that’s it!”

“And the blood?” Shoshana hadn’t noticed that Sophia failed to explain it.

In reality Sophia just forgot.

“Yonah’s… insides got roughed up by the prince’s armor and I ended up in the line of fire when he coughed”

She looked up from her gown to see the two wizard staring past her. Shoshana grinned wickedly.

“Ah, Yonah, Sophia here has been telling us all about your adventure from not moments ago!”

/“SHE WHAT!”/ cried Yonah. Except, as the words made it to his lips a stabbing pain in his throat stopped him, closing his airways as he coughed himself catatonic. So instead he just sat down and stared at the mirror through a slightly teary haze.

“Yonah, this young woman says that you’re a man-eating giant now! Can you lend credence to this? Has our Yonah truly become the monster that the professors said he would? Yonah, eater of men, kidnapper of princesses!” the sarcasm heavy in Shoshana’s voice.

No. no no no no no. no NO. This was not happening. This day was so crappy to begin with.

“He’s not denying it, so it must be true!” Mica said, matter a factly.

This wasn’t at all how he expected this to go down. He had kept his instances of “man-eating” hidden from his friends, sure that they would never speak to him again if they found out that he’d ever eaten a human.

But… they weren’t mad.

Didn’t matter. Getting teased about it was almost worse. He rubbed the moisture from his eyes.

“It’s not like you go around hunting humans” said Mica before getting serious “and it’s not like you were keeping this hidden while in school. You weren’t, right? You didn’t eat anyone at school? Was tasting us not enough?”

For the first time, Mica and Shoshana looked genuinely worried. Maybe they HAD been wrong about Yonah.

“No, No. I-I didnt eat anyone.” said Yonah, his voice high and quiet, he looked scared, “typically, giants only eat those who break into their houses, to steal or to kill” he recited. They’d heard the line before.

And regardless, the school was never his home, Of course he wasn’t ever interested in eating his fellow students. Tasting them was another matter, plenty of them smelled incredible. His friends did and still do occasionally allow him a taste, just to tease him.

Up until Sophia he wouldn’t have even dared to eat them! It was too dangerous. A thief he could risk swallowing and spitting back up before they died. Standard procedure to shock and punish them. And a Slayer’s life was forfeit. When they failed and escaped they usually returned and one way or another someone would end up dead.

“What about professors? I feel like some of them deserve to be eaten” Mica continued, all previous concern now gone, he was back to antagonizing.

“N-no, I just said that-“ but apparently Mica wasn’t listening and Yonah’s interjections fell upon uncaring ears.

“Like Professor Thuorbir! What a prick.” said Mica.

“I think he was also a giant slayer!” said Shoshana, her voice containing energy that Mica’s didn’t even come close to, “you should totally eat him, he’s still an asshole. Fucker rejected my research proposal for a third time!”

Gods this was not happening. Yonah put his now burning face into his hands.

“I’m not gonna eat Mr.Thuorbir,” Yonah managed to say through is stupor. Though he silently agreed that the man certainly deserved it, regardless of giant slaying. His head was buzzing.

Mica looked at Shoshana incredulously

“Shosh, that was because your proposal was to research a spell that would have turned the entire Mystic Woods PINK, down to the littlest ant! None of the professors would have approved that” he said before turning to Sophia. “The one before that, she wanted to propose researching a spell that would give the caster dominion over all bees. All of them. Knowing full well that attempting godhood is ILLEGAL.”

Sophia giggled and tried to imagine her father’s kingdom becoming a uniform shade of pink. Oh dear. Maybe she should tell her father, in case Shoshana actually attempted it.

“Well, just because they don’t want an army of bees” said Shoshana, nose in the air, arms crossed. “And it wasn’t a proposal to actually do it, just to design a spell that could.”

“I hate you both, you know that,” said Yonah.

“We know you mean love!” said Shoshana.

“Anyways, it can’t have really happened,” said Shoshana. “Not the way you said it did at the very least.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Yonah.

Mica looked at her in shock, he had clearly believed the story. This wouldn’t be the first time Shoshana had gone along with a ridiculous farce just for the drama of it, but as far as he knew, Yonah hadn’t spoken to Shoshana that recently, not without him present. And Yonah’s pain was real, his embarrassment was real.

Shoshana sighed and rubbed at her glasses.

“You don’t believe-“ Sophia started to say

“Oh I believe he’s eaten people. Comes with the territory at this point. But you’re” she eyed Yonah, “You’re kind of, too small to swallow a person whole, right? You’d have to, oh I don’t know, rip into them with your teeth like they were a prime rib.”

/Ugh, what a great image, thanks Shosh/ thought Yonah.

“It’s not really worth trying to claim the prince survived for our benefit. If eating people was a dealbreaker we wouldn’t be friends with dragons or ogres or that Sphinx that guards the gates to the tunnels of-“

“Yonah did swallow the prince whole!” Sophia wasn’t about to let the wizards think she had lied, “And yes, he’s killed a few assholes that way but he let the prince live! And thieves too! He eats them all the time but always lets them go!” She was almost shouting now, “And! And Yonah swallows me all the time! And if you haven’t noticed, I’m in one piece.”

All eyes were on her and everyone was silent, no one moved or blinked, but Yonah’s face became scarlet. Sophia played with her dress in her hands, and looked up at Yonah.

“Um, was I not supposed to tell them that?” she squeaked out.

“Yonah HaEsh, how could you!?” Shoshana yelled, no longer playful, “eat a princess!? You could kill her! She’s not a knight or a giant slayer! What on earth were you thinking? So we need to rescue her from you?”

Yonah’s embarrassment had turned to anger as his hair started to smoke and the roots glowed orange. He was breathing sharp breaths, seething with anger, until one got caught sending him into a into another coughing fit and onto the floor. Sophia took the opportunity to rectify her mistake.

But there was no need. Shoshana has gone white.

“Oh dear, I think I overdid it!”

“You think? Now Yonah thinks we hate him! Next time don’t seem so serious,” Mica chided her. Shoshana muttered something about wasting her skills and addressed Sophia again.

“But seriously, how!” she said, “How does he physically manage to swallow a person whole? And you said he eats you all the time! How the fuck has he managed to avoid fucking up and killing you or the thieves!” color had returned to her face. No longer bothered by Yonah’s plight, even though she had caused it. Mica shot her a death glare.

“Oh like you weren’t thinking the same thing!”

Mica sighed. “I was but I have the manners not to voice it. We could have called back tomorrow. But it’s too late now.”

They both looked at Sophia expectantly.

“Oh um, well, the thieves he just spits up real quick but myself... Yonah, enchanted me, so that he can’t hurt me” Sophia explained everything as Yonah wheezed in the background, still on the floor, but no longer in danger of coughing up a lung.

Shoshana’s eyes sparkled with greed. Mica was deep in thought.

“Wait are you sure this was an enchantment, because it sounds like curse.” Mica finally said.

“Well,” said Sophia, “the difference is a matter of perspective isn’t it.”

Which was true. One could see gems falling from ones mouth when one talked as a blessing, until everyone in the kingdom wanted you as their piggy bank and your voice was hoarse from being made to talk non stop and the economy is ruined by your gem contributions. Then it’s a curse. Becoming a glass statue would be a curse, but that’s not how it worked.

“That must have been an expensive procedure,” said Mica.

“It was, but he got the money from my dad,” Sophia made the last few words harsh and final. She was still bitter that her dad had instructed and funded Yonah to traumatize her into running back home. Jokes on him, it hadn’t worked and Yonah was her friend now! Showed him!

“He managed to only cast half a curse! He could publish with a trick like that” she said thoughtfully, but with a touch of envy.

“There would be a problem with rational,” Mica pointed out, “he would have to invent a fake reason! He can’t say he did it so he could eat one specific person and not worry about them dying!”

Shoshana nodded and laughed.

“To answer your other question, I don't know how he does it, because you’re right, by all means he shouldn’t. But even he doesn’t know.” Sophia said, the wizards were disappointed. Sophia tried to brighten their mood by suggesting they investigate it. They considered this with great pleasure.

“I’m just unable to picture it,” She was talking to Sophia again. “I-“ she shuddered with wicked glee as she had a new thought. “ Yes, I’d like to see it for myself. I don’t suppose, since it was your idea to research this, that you would be willing to give us a demonstration?”

That surprised both Sophia and Mica, but Mica’s grin said that he liked that idea.

Now it was Sophia’s turn to go red. Sophia rubbed her back of her head. Let someone watch? Having just seen Yonah eat the prince, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Yonah’s friends to see it. Even if they had joked about him giving into his more monstrous heritage. Sophia had seen it. That side of him did exist. But it had been her idea. She regretted planting the idea in their stupid wizard brains.

“I’ll, consider it, but Yonah’s in no condition right now.”

“Oh of course not dear! Just call us or something, there’s not rush,” Shoshana winked, “especially if it’s a regular occurrence, plenty of opportunities to observe.”

Yes, Sophia was realizing that about the thieves as well. She wondered how regular they were too, and if she could get involved in thief catching.

Shaking badly, Yonah got up from the floor, pulling himself up to his stool. His face was very red, and his eyes glistened, tears steaming up his face.

Sophia turned to him “They’re over it, I explained it, you can stop being such a big baby and extinguish yourself”

Yonah glared at her but his head stopped smoldering and his eyes were back to brown.

“I think,” he wheezed, “I think I need to lie down, let the healing drought actually take effect.”

“Yonah darling you do look awful, we’ll get out of your hair, but don’t think we are done talking about this! Next time I expect a demonstration!” said Shoshana “goodbye Princess Sophia it was an absolute pleasure meeting your highness!” and before Mica could say a word she waved a hand in front of the mirror, turning it back to a normally mirror.

“Thank you Mirror” Sophia said, placing a hand on the golden edge. It made a small hum of acknowledgement.

“Come on let’s get you to bed,” Sophia looked up at the disheveled and gaunt wizard who picked her up and held her close to his chest as he walked back to his room. The sun had been up for an only hour yet the day felt like it was already over. He needed a nap.

He released Sophia onto the night stand, took off his hat, did not take off his slightly blood stained night robe, and collapsed face forward on the bed, breathing heavily.

Sophia sighed and climbed down the nightstand and using the still loose bed sheets, climbed onto the bed and onto Yonah. He didn’t protest, or make any sign that he knew she was there, but he had to know.

“Hey, you did good today, and your friends still love you, and I’m still your friend. I don’t think you made friends with that prince but he seemed like a dick so who cares.”

A painful chuckle shook from beneath her as Yonah rolled onto his back, Sophia scrambling to keep up with the rotation. Sitting on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling with his eyes closed. he brought his hand up to pet Sophia gently. His hand was warm and rough, and Sophia leaned into it, tickling his palm.

She fell asleep like that, Yonah’s warm hand of a weighted blanket.

Yonah had one last panicked thought before sleep took him.

/Had Shosh said DEMONSTRATION?/

[Thanks for reading! please reblog!]

#soft vore #safe vore

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