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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers BLOODY BOUQUET Vol.8 Mukami Yuma [Track 3]

Original title: 抗い続ける

Source: Diabolik Lovers Bloody Bouquet Vol. 8 Mukami Yuma [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Tatsuhisa Suzuki

Translator’s note: Yuma is such husbando material in this, there is just no way anyone could say ‘no’ when he asks to marry you. Seeing him so motivated to save his S/O really warmed my heart. ;w; I know these boys do a lot of horrible things to you in some of the other CDs but when Rejet gives us fluff, they do it RIGHT. That being said, I am curious how the final two tracks will play out since it seems Yuma has entered detective mode right now. >3

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 3: Continuing to Fight Back

You flee inside a room and lock the door.

*THUD THUD THUD*

“...Open up!!”

You remain quiet.

“Haah, haah...Can ya not hear me!? I said open the damn door!!”

You refuse.

“Listen to me...!! At this rate, you’ll die! Are ya ‘kay with that!? Don’t ya wanna live!?”

You insist that you don’t mind dying if Yuma stops suffering.

“Keh...You bitch! Do ya any idea what nonsense you’re spoutin’...!? Don’t be sayin’ ya wanna die! No way in hell I’d let ya get away with that! Don’t run from that stupid curse! Fight back against it! Like I do! I promised I would save ya no matter what, remember!? Is it really that hard for ya to put some faith in me!?”

You deny that.

“Then what!? Are ya sayin’ that I can’t save ya!?”

You repeat that you don’t want to make him suffer.

“Just leave me be. All you need to think ‘bout is yerself right now! ...You idiot! ...Cough, cough...!! Uu...”

You ask if he’s okay.

“Kuh...’Course I’m not fine...If I wasn’t this weakened right now, I could easily punch my way through this door...Ugh...At this rate...You’ll get away from me...Guess I have no other choice...”

Yuma pretends to collapse.

*Thud*

“Ugh...Haah, haah...”

You open the door and run up to Yuma.

“...Gotcha! I’m not lettin’ ya go again ...Not until I break this damn curse...”

You realize he was faking it.

“Heh...I had no other choice, right? If I didn’t do this, ya would have stayed locked up in there forever, no? But well...The poison is definitely startin’ to get to me...Ugh...Kuh!!”

*Rustle rustle*

“Haah, haah...Don’t be gettin’ worried or runnin’ away...Messin’ with me like that...I swear, if any other person tried to pull that shit, I would punch them across the face.”

You apologize.

“Sorry is really the only word ya can say, huh? Like this, I almost seem like the bad guy. ...No, I might be. I had no clue that you were hidin’ somethin’ at after all.”

You shake your head.

“If ya don’t think that’s the case, at least try and work with me a lil’. I wanna save ya, remember?”

Yuma bites you.

*Sluuuuurp*

“Haah...Guess I’m startin’ to get used to this flavor...Cough, cough...! Haah...Not yet...Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Mmhpー!? Cough, cough...! Cough, cough...!! ...Ugh...”

You grow worried again.

“Argh...You’re so stubborn...!”

*Rustle rustle*

"It’s yer fault for tryin’ to make a run for it. ...Besides, if you’re prepared to die anyway, you won’t care whatever I do to ya, right?”

*RIIIIIIP*

“Phew...Ya better don’t believe I’m gonna let ya do as ya please...Now behave. If ya move, I might just hang ya on the wall by yer wrists... (1) I should have just done this from the very beginnin’... Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Nnh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

“...Cough, cough...! Fuck...This curse is gettin’ on my nerves...When will it break!?”

*Sluuuuurp*

“What? Ya feelin’ it? ...Heh. You’re such a cheap woman in the end. No matter how hard ya struggle, ya can’t resist my fangs. Just be honest with yerself already...I definitely won’t let ya leave me at this point...Ugh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“...Does it hurt? Guess that makes sense. I’m doin’ it on purpose after all. Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“It left some nice marks...Deep, large ones. Ya like it when I bite yer neck, don’t ya? Go ahead and drown in the bliss...and then, you’ll forget all ‘bout that stupid death wish of yers. ...Haah...Say? Where do ya want me to suck from next? ...I’ll go for that spot.”

You shake your head.

“Nowhere, huh? In that case...Mmh...”

*Smooch*

“Nn...”

*Smooch*

“Will ya give me an answer if I do this? ...Ya like kisses, don’t ya? ...Don’t ya want me to do more? If ya won’t tell me...”

He moves towards your wrist.

*Rustle*

“I’ll suck from here. The blood has piled up from my grip, it looks delicious.”

Yuma bites you once more.

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Don’t move...I can’t suck well like this...Nn...That bein’ said, this curse really is a pain in the ass...Even though I’ve had this much...Cough...I don’t feel like I’m any close to breakin’ it...But well, I’ll keep goin’ till the bitter end...”

You beg Yuma to stop pushing himself.

“Keh...You’re still sayin’ that? Ya really are one hell of a stubborn woman, tsk...I told ya I’m fine, remember? All ya need to think ‘bout is yer own body.”

*Rustle*

“I tought I was all ya needed? So don’t try and make the selfish decision of leavin’ me. Stick with me till the very end...”

He pulls you close.

“I’m beggin’ ya...Don’t go anywhere...Don’t just vanish in thin air...I don’t wanna have to admit defeat. I don’t want to lose ya...to some stupid curse or whatever.”

Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Heh. ...Fool. Ya only realized my feelings right now? Lil’ late, no? ...I definitely won’t let ya die on me. ...When ya go, we’re goin’ together.”

You protest.

“If ya don’t wanna die together, then let’s live together? ...I always keep my promises. So ya better don’t give up either. Trust me when I told ya I would break the curse.”

You tear up.

“...Heh. Don’t start cryin’, idiot. ...But, thank you. Don’t try and leave me again, ‘kay? Talk to me before ya do anythin’ reckless. That’s what I’m here for after all.

*Rustle*

“So...Endure it just a lil’ longer, ‘kay? Haahn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

“Hahn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Ah...Your body has started warmin’ up...The curse might be slowly fadin’ away...Nnh...Cough, cough...! ...Ahー ...My bad. I’ve seriously become a weakling. But I’ll hang in there a lil’ longer...and keep goin’...”

You ask if he is okay.

“This is child’s play...Ah, right. There’s somethin’ I wanna tell ya tho...Ready?”

You listen closely.

“...Once the curse has been lifted, how ‘bout we get married?”

You are startled.

“What’s with that face? Am I not enough for ya?”

You shake your head.

“Then rejoice right away. Ya scared me just now. ...I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout what I should do this whole time...Lookin’ for a reason for us to remain together forever...”

*Rustle*

“Ya need somethin’ bindin’ us together, no? Then I’ll give ya exactly that. Marry me. I want ya to vow...that you’ll stay by my side forever.”

You nod.

“Yeah. As long as I have this promise, I can keep pushin’ through.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Haah...You’re the only chick I’d want to save...or keep by my side forever...So I’ll lift this curse for sure. I’ll be the one to rescue ya. ...I love ya. More than anythin’ else in this world. More than anyone else. ...’Kay?”

*Ping*

*WOOSH*

“...!! Oh...Eh!? ...!! ...What the hell was that just now? ...Didn’t ya see somethin’ shimmer? ...I guess it was just my imagination...I’ll keep goin’ then, ‘kay?”

Yuma sucks your blood again.

*Sluuuuurp*

“...Mmh?”

*Sluuuuurp*

“...Hm? ...!? Your blood’s back to normal...The fuck? It tastes comepletely different from before...”

*Gulp*

*Sluuuuurp*

“Don’t tell me...Has the curse been lifted? ...!! Hey, how do ya feel!?”

You tell him you feel fine.

“For realー!? ...But why so suddenly...!? I don’t get it...! ...Ah, fuck! For some reason it doesn’t sit right...Those roses and the curse...Aah, I still don’t know who that voice belonged to either...Haahー... Haah...Tsk...Well, I guess there’s no point in rackin’ my head over it. It’s not like fussin’ ‘bout it will change anythin’...Heh, more importantly...Say...”

He pulls you close.

“Let’s keep goin’...Lemme feel ya thoroughly...”

*Rustle rustle*

“What’s this? Ya can be pretty bold when ya want to as well, huh? Keep yer arms wrapped ‘round my back like that. Like you’ll never let go again. Well, I don’t plan on lettin’ ya go either. Mmh...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Hah...Aah...It really is delicious...You’re mine for eternity now...So I’ll devour ya whole once more. Nn...”

*Smooch*

( ーー That bein’ said. I will never forgive the jerk who put us through all of that, without havin’ the guts to show his face even once. To ensure this never happens to us again, I need information. Guess I’ll ask Ruki and the others for some advice. )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 貼り付け or ‘hari-tsuke’ literally means ‘to crucify’.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #diabolik lovers bloody bouquet #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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ohheyitsokay · 4 years ago

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softly

can be read as a sequel to “slowly” or as a stand alone

pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey)x (f) ace!reader

wordcount: 1.6k

warnings: implications of sex and related topics

summary: growing and navigating a relationship is a joy with the right person

notes: again, obviously this is a wildly personal topic - I fully understand that asexuality looks different for everyone. For full disclosure, in this story, the reader knows they are somewhere on the asexuality spectrum but is not aromantic.They are also on a path of self discovery and are open to learning about themselves - in this chapter they engage in sexual and physical acts with Jack. This IS NOT saying asexuals who are like this are growing “better” than those who are not interested. Asexuals who do know what they do and don’t want are perfect and do not need to change or compromise as part of their personal growth. This is not everyone’s story, or the “right” way, this is just... one story.

I hope you all enjoy, and happy pride month!

Transitioning from friendship to dating Jack was like leaving one dream and entering another.

The relationship was sewn from cotton clouds, delicate and lovely and full of whispered promises and potential.

Jack had always been surprisingly gentle with you, for how rough and tumble he normally was. It would have made sense, to someone in another life, for him to have become even more so – touches filled with longing and hesitation and light as feathers – but it didn’t happen. It wasn’t him.

Instead every touch was firm, solid, deliberate, as though he was trying to show you that he was being intentional with each and every one of them, like he’d thought about them for a week before. To him, you weren’t fragile at all, you didn’t need to be treated like you would break, he just wanted to show you he cared about every point of contact. Show you he could be more than in control, and still make you weak in the knees.

It was unreal, being courted by him, a strangely swirled combo of careful cotton candy chivalry and crackling confidant charisma, as blended as ice cream flavors at the fair. Some moments he’d be standing his full height, pressing almost into your space, grinning that slow crooked smirk, spewing words like he’d never been more sure of himself. It made you want to press him back, to tweak his nose and just see if he could take what he doled out. But it also made you want to swoon a little, to bat your eyelashes and blush and bite your lip, a little bit bashful. It was frustrating, choosing which without being awkward, but you were sure he liked to see you flustered, regardless.

Other moments, Jack turned off the charm, and was so sweet that if it weren’t for the genuine adoration in his eyes you would’ve thought he was faking it. It made you want to believe him when he had said that to him you were everything. He, with his overgrown eagerness, his passion, and larger-than-life laugh, was your world, and you were his.

More than anything, it must have been the intimacy of knowing him like the back of your hand. Beautiful people came and went, could make you look a moment longer, but they never made you feel like this. Is wasn’t heartaches and warm cheeks, most of the time, it was just … knowing him, that make it good. You weren’t enamored with just his face, or overcome with desire to have his body on yours, it was simple and lovely to learn about all sides of his soul, and to have every single part be as dedicated to you as you were to him.

They melted together over time, and it was by far your favorite, feeling him find who he was with you, feeling safe in turn.

“This okay?” he asked again, hairs on his upper lip tickling your neck.

“Yes,” your confirmation was all he need before continuing his path down your neck. It was the third time he’d asked since you’d climbed into his lap and asked him, boldly earnest and determined, if the he would make out with you.

At the time, you had felt sort of silly, like a schoolgirl trying to earn her stripes, but the urge had honestly surprised both of you, and you hadn’t wanted to risk it leaving while you figured out how to organically make it happen. So you’d taken the risk and it had been perfect, in it’s own right.

Anyone, anything before Jack were irrelevant. These moments with them were riddled with nagging, itching self doubt or anxiety, but not with him. He was the only one.

And Jack kept checking in with you, he was so attentive to you that he knew your boundaries the moment you did, if not before, and kept them without a question. The thickness of him, the roughness of his jeans and the circle of his arms were solid and sturdy, creating a little world for the two of you.

Had he always been your best friend?

You didn’t have time to contemplate it. His mouth on your neck, hands on your waist, and thighs under your hips were altogether delicious and overwhelming.

It had been wonderful to kiss him like this. To sit in his lap and trust him and mold your mouth against his like the two of you were the only things that mattered. But the longer it went the more strange it felt, and slowly your mind began thinking again, unable to let yourself get lost in him. Focusing on his body more than him wasn’t quite right.

Wondering if you were being unfair, you gently tugged on his hair, pulling him away, telling him with your eyes what your mouth hadn’t found the words for.

Little creases on his forehead appeared, a testament to his ability to read your mind. Even concerned, he looked at you like you were Venus in all her glory, like even the curve of your nose and the bump of your chin were sculpted just for him.

“I heard you say yes,” he said, slow, neither a defense nor a blame – simply an offering. His hands were consistent on you, reminding you again how conscious and in control he was, how naturally he communicated with you.

“I did,” you murmured, pecking the lines, trying to smooth them with your thumb before sliding to sit next to him. “It just… changed.”

Nodding, he didn’t push it, just held you close to his side, and leaving one last kiss on your temple. He flicked through the movies before settling down and you waited for a deep, longing sigh, but it never came.

The stinging memory of a previous encounter, when your partner had left to cool off in frustration, was slowly being scrubbed off your soul. You felt it momentarily before Jack’s low drawl was sharing a story from work, bragging about his talents over the movie heroes. And the memory faded, replaced by something sweeter.

It was strange, to be so completely loved.

Jack wasn’t normally the type to need affirmation, confirmation after a round with his lover, but he couldn’t help himself.

“How do you feel, darlin? Good?” he looked for your eyes as he asked, proud of your lowered lashes, but still seeking truth. You nodded, and he could see you thinking, so he waited.

You absolutely deserved the best, he believed that with every fiber of his body and as hard as it was to admit, figuring out what that meant required acknowledging he wasn’t sure. You had asked him, wanted to try, not out of need but with determination. The whole afternoon he had dedicated himself to you, going slow, hitting all the points he’d tried and tested before. The two of you had talked about it for awhile, making a game plan to keep you as comfortable as possible, so you both would enjoy it – no matter how it ended.

It was a relief, trusting you.

Never in his life could he have adored someone so thoroughly, who he wasn’t absolutely sure would keep communicating with him. Talking, checking in, updating during lovemaking came so naturally, he almost wished he could brag about it to his younger self.

“I’ve got a girl who loves me so much she never fakes … well, anything.” Not just pleasure - smiles and laughs and tears and all of it, all of you was open to him. “We love each other so much, mind and soul – not just body,” he would tell himself, and the younger man would have been in awe.

Really, even now, he was in awe of what the two of you had created.

It had been perfect, the intimacy of placing your hearts in each other’s hands, building up and up and learning every step of the way. It was like the process of sorting through pages and pieces and pictures to make pancakes the very first time. Awkward moments, messiness, navigating and even back-tracking was part of the adventure- sweet and silly and soaking in the thick, warm layer of love.

You were on your back, still half under him and his hands wandered over your skin. The blankets were all over, folds softer than even the flag he loved in the wind, and you at the center. Beautiful. Hair a mess, a sheen of sweat not yet cooled from your skin, and that was the only thing that he could think. You were beautiful.

Finding the words you were searching for, your fingers grasped at his.

“It was good,” you confirmed, again, and he swelled with pride and relief, even though you hadn’t finished. “It wasn’t… better, per se, than the walk to the lake we took last night, though.” Your eyes were apologetic but he felt even more proud. He had done that for you too, after all.

“It was a different good,” you shrugged, and he nodded, before leaning in to stop your apology before it started.

Kissing him back was hard as a bubble of laughter filled your mouth.

“No apologies, little lady,” he said insistently, scolding you. You should have known better.

“I’m good,” he said, firmly, before laying back and trying to swap your positions. You laughed again, but you could tell he was being honest. There was no lingering arousal in the air, no longing seeping out of his skin, and you’d almost never seen him so content.

It was easy, to relax against his chest.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @0celestialbitch0 @writeforfandoms

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #ace!reader #ace reader #maybe i don't know people

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years ago

Text

Late Nights & Late Wishes

A/n: this was such a cute request and I hope that it is what you wanted!! (not thoroughly edited) feel free to request again bb!

Requested by: @ahnelovesyou

Tagging: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe (if you would like to be added to the general tag list just send an ask, comment, or reblog!)

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: slight cursing? legal drinking, Jisung being a dork

Summary: Jisung and Y/n have been best friends longer than anyone can remember. Both have been silently pining for the other behind closed doors. Is one friend’s stupidity going to release their secrets?

Genre: non-idol!au, romance, fluff, friends to lover!au, best friend!au

✮

Jisung had always been by me. He was sort of like my lighthouse. Guiding me through my darkest times even when I felt as if all hope was long gone. Jisung was my very annoying, very cumbersome lighthouse.

He had stuck by me all the way back in high school and even when we lived apart during university. Jisung still managed to find a way to always be next to me despite the distance. Even now, when we lived only a few blocks apart, the distance seemed like across the world when my best friend wasn’t next to me.

Jisung had been there for all the breakdowns. All the horrid boyfriends. All the bad jokes and embarrassing moments. Luckily, I had been around for all of his terrible meltdowns, his (still) awful jokes and (frequent) awkward moments, and all the bitchy vexing girlfriends. I was almost certain there was nothing about Jisung I didn’t know and he would be proud to say the same about me.

The light from my laptop illuminated my dark bedroom at the late hour of two o’clock in the morning. My covers were pulled up to my chin and my eyes were laser focused on the drama playing on my screen. My eyes widened seeing the male lead inch closer to the leading lady.

Jeogiyo noona, hokshi namjachingu isseyo?

My phone blasted the cringey song my best friend had featured in as a university underground rapper. I paused the romantic moment the drama leads were having and blindly felt around for my phone.

WOW SHE’S HOT. HOT HOT HOT. WOOOOOW. SHE’S HOT.

The song seemed to get louder the longer it played. Why was he calling me at this ungodly hour? Finally, my fingers fumbled over my phone. “Jisung what the hell do you want? I was sleeping.” I said answering the phone and lying back down, cuddling into my pillow.

“We both know that’s not true.” His deep happy voice chimed through the phone.

Jisung laughed hearing my huff over the receiver. “What do you want, Han? You better be interrupting my dramas for a good reason.” I could hear the smile in his voice. The smile that made my insides feel like warm honey.

“You’re watching dramas and I’m not there?” He clicked his tongue making me roll my eyes. “Anyway, look outside your window.” I kicked my covers off, legs flailing widely in the air. I stilled and stared at the ceiling. “You do actually have to get out of the bed.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Rolling out of bed, my feet padded against the wood floor of my apartment. I pushed the curtains outside and looked down from my bedroom window into the parking lot. My best friend leaned against his red sports car he had spent three years saving for. Seeing me peek out from behind the white shields of fabric he waved, mask pulled down below his chin. His smile lit up the night even more than the street lamp.

I watched him open the car door and pull out two grocery bags, holding them up with a Chesire grin, the phone still pressed to his ear. “Rooftop?”

“Jisung-”

“I have alcohol and snac-”

“I’ll meet you up there.”

Jisung burst out laughing. I didn’t need the phone to hear how loud and joyful it was. I hung up the phone when I saw Jisung start towards the stairs. I pulled on some shorts from my closet and quickly let loose my hair from how I had it previously. My hands raked through my hair, tossing it this way and that until it was more presentable. As a last touch, I grabbed some cherry flavored lip gloss and swiped it over my lips before running up to the roof.

A cool breeze whisked over the top of the roof as I pushed open the squeaky door. Jisung was laying out a blanket over the cold concrete. This was not the first time we had met on the roof of my apartment building. It had become like our secret little hideaway from the world. “Hey, you.”

He turned at the sound of my voice and smiled. His brows furrowed and then his bright laugh rose up into the night. “Are you wearing pants?” He asked pointing at my bare legs. I nodded and lifted up the baggy shirt. In all honesty, it was probably a shirt Jisung had left lying around after borrowing my washer.

“Even if I wasn’t, you’ve seen me in a swimsuit. Shouldn’t matter.” He reached out for me, pulling my body into his arms. Jisung’s hugs were the best. It felt like his arms were shielding me from all the bad and ugly things the world could possibly throw at us. I always felt happiest in his arms.

“Okay, enough happiness. Let’s drink.” Jisung said pulling away and plopping down on the blanket. His dark hair, almost black, fell in front of his eyes as he reached for the plastic bags. I lounged on the blanket looking up at the stars.

My ears picked up on the clinking of glass. Turning I saw Jisung pulling out to wine glasses and a bottle of Moscato. “We are drinking wine?” I asked, pushing myself up on my elbows. “What happened to cheap beer and chips?”

“Come on it’s not that fancy. It was only like twelve bucks.”

I let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching my heart. “Han Jisung you spent more than five dollars on a bottle of alcohol? Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?” He laughed when I clutched onto his jacket, pretending to faint.

I watched his long fingers wrap around the glass and steadily pour the white wine into it. He gently handed the drink to me and I swirled the sweet alcohol in the glass before sipping it. “Good?” He asked, pouring some for himself. I nodded and took another sip, stretching my legs out on the blanket.

“Are we celebrating something?”

Jisung shook his head and set down the bottle. “Nope. Can’t I spoil my best friend?” I scoffed and leaned on my elbow, looking up at him. “You’re right I never do that.” Instead of giving me another reason Jisung looked up at the stars, a content smile on his face.

If he didn’t want to tell me I would respect that. After a few glasses later we both lay on the blanket looking up at the twinkling night sky. Jisung’s arm cradled my head as we both stared up into the starry skyline. His jacket was wrapped around my shoulders shielding me from the whispering breeze floating across the roof. Quiet murmurs were exchanged between both of us as we marveled at the sky. Stars winking at us from above.

The wine was giving me a very light buzz, keeping me awake. “Oh,” I exclaimed. My eyes trailed a flash of white across the sky. “A shooting star!” I pointed it out to Jisung who started wildly looking for what I had seen. “Quick close your eyes and make a wish!”

Shutting my eyes tight and clasping my hands together I began to wish for a raise at work. I would love to have a little extra money lying around, especially so I could pick up the dinner check every once in a while. MY eyes squeezed themselves shut as if it would help make the wish come true.

“I wish that I could finally get the courage to confess how I feel to my best friend,” Jisung said at lightning speed.

My eyes shot open and I turned to see him looking up at the sky. He watched me sit up from my previous position next to him. Silence hung in the air. Jisung continued to look up at the twinkling sky while I stared at him in disbelief. Did he not realize he said it out loud? My heart seemed to jump out of my chest waiting to see what he would do next.

A siren screamed into the city from a distance. The sound seemed to awaken my best friend from whatever sort of oblivious trance he was in. His eyes turned to saucers and a dark heat flooded his cheeks. “Uhh....” Jisung slowly sat up.

I pulled the sleeves of his jacket further over my hands, playing with the edges. Jisung watched me warily, clearly aware a very serious talk was about to follow. “Umm...I’m gonna need some more wine for this conversation.” My voice came out breathy and almost a whisper.

Jisung nodded and quickly poured another glass from the bottle of Moscato. I thanked him and downed the glass, wincing at the burn down my throat. “Look we can just like ignore what I said. It doesn’t matter.” He nervously laughed and looked anywhere but me.

“Jisung,” My hyperactive nervous best friend turned back to me, leaning on one arm. his dark hair fell in front of his eyes. I resisted the urge to fix it. “What did you want to say to me?”

He sighed and looked down, long fingers playing with the soft fabric of the blanket. “So...I may...be like...in love with you....or whatever.” My heart pounded against my chest so much so I was sure Jisung could hear it. “How do you feel?” He asked shyly looking up at me.

“I may be in love with you too....or whatever,” I said with a timid smile.

“You know what it’s fine we can forget I ever said anything. I knew you wouldn’t- wait what...” Jisung looked up at me with a precious confused expression, his brows tilting upward and eyes going soft. “You love me? And not like...oh he’s just a brother or a really good friend way?”

I nodded and he let out a heavy sigh, collapsing back down onto the blanket, hand on his heart. Jisung looked so relieved. I was relieved. We were just two idiots who couldn’t see how the other felt until now.

After a moment of Jisung calming down from his tiny freakout, he reached for my hand, threading his fingers with mine. “Will you kiss me?” He asked, a cute smile appearing at the corner of his lips.

“Why me?”

“Cause I still don’t have the courage to do it.” The wine glass in my hand clinked when I set it on the concrete. Jisung watched with expectant eyes as I leaned over, hand finding a place on his cheek. He let out a small sigh when my lips pressed against his.

Jisung quickly took the lead, tangling a hand in my hair and pulling me down into his chest. His lips danced against mine like we had been doing this for years. He pulled away, eyes still closed before dragging his lips slowly over my own. His thumb ghosted over my waist, dragging up the fabric of my shirt.

Jisung pulled away and his teeth caught on his bottom lip. “Y/n, are you wearing cherry lip gloss?” My hand came up to my mouth. I had totally forgotten I put it on. He giggled leaning up for another kiss. “It tastes good.” He whispered making my skin tingle.

“You’re such a dork.”

“I’m your dork.”

✮

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p-artsypants · 4 years ago

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I’ll Handle This (13)

In Which There’s Cheese

Ao3 | FF.net

Trigger or Squick warning: Man has done some messed up stuff in the pursuit of perfect cheese. And what is cheese but moldy, rotten milk? This chapter contains some very foul and nasty descriptions of actual cheese that people eat. So if eating rotting food makes you uncomfortable, best skip to the end of this chapter.

(Spoiler: Plagg gives Lila really gross cheese. She eats it, and has to run out of the room to vomit.)

“—so the best way to level up is to get a skill up to 100, and then legendary it back down to 15, so then you can use the skill perks on another ability that’s harder to level up. That’s where I’m at right now. I’m on level 106 and trying to fill up all my skill trees by using smithing, speech, enchanting, lock picking, and blocking.”

Day three of Lila’s torment, and there was presumably no end in sight.

Had she known from the beginning that Adrien Agreste was this big of a nerd and completely socially inept, she wouldn’t have talked to him at all.

Funny how people looked less attractive the more annoying they got.

And she had tried. She had sincerely tried to get him to shut up. She told him, “I’m sorry Adrien, I’m just not that interested in this video game.”

“Well, you’ve just never played it before! You should come over this weekend—no, actually, I think we should go to your place. When you aren’t grounded anymore. Your mom seemed to really like me!”

Of course she did. Her mother likes anyone who’s a ‘good influence’ on her precious baby. And nothing like Paris’ golden boy to fill that bubble.

Her mom probably preferred that Adrien was so naïve and oblivious.

The bell rang for lunch, and Lila was up and out of her seat without another word. She was tired of the games. Skyrim, Magic: The Gathering, and trying to salvage a friendship with the dumb blond. But Adrien usually ate lunch at home or with Marinette, at least he had been, so lunch was her time to recharge! She’d take her place in the throne room that was the cafeteria and have everyone’s attention. With an hour of that, she could certainly put up with whatever Adrien had to tell her the next half of the day.

In the cafeteria, most seats were taken. The two open seats were at a table with Alya, Nino, and Marinette. Of course Lila wasn’t thrilled with Marinette, but she’d leave eventually, and someone else would hear her tales and come to sit with them.

“Hey guys! Do you mind if I sit with you?” Lila smiled, all friendly-like.

“Not at all, Lila, take a seat!” Alya welcomed.

Marinette and Nino kept their poker faces as she sat down.

“So Alya, I had this amazing idea for an article for the Ladyblog, and I bet I could get some quotes from Ladybug for it too.”

“Or really?” Alya squealed. “That would be amazing! So what’s the idea?”

“Basically—“

“WHO WANTS SOME CHEESE?!” Plagg sang as he took his spot in the last remaining seat, right next to Lila.

She wanted to die.

“Cheese?” Said Nino, intrigued.

“Yeah! I have been dying to give you guys a cheese tasting, and wouldn’t you know it? All my best buds are all together! So it’s perfect!”

Lila cautiously relaxed. Cheese tastings were just as fancy as wine tastings. Maybe this would be a break and a peek into Adrien’s refinement. She could handle this.

“Okay, so for you three,” Plagg gestured to Nino, Alya, and Marinette, “I have some more...beginner cheeses. They’re still extremely tasty, but more mild for a less refined palette.”

“You calling me unrefined?” Nino glared.

“I see what you eat. And yes.”

“Touché.”

“And for you, Lila, you mentioned that two weeks ago, you had dinner with Wolfgang Puck himself. I assumed you could handle more advanced cheeses.”

Advanced cheeses? “Oh, well, yes of course. I’ve done a few cheese tastings before. Maybe not with the same quality of cheeses as you have...”

“Then this will be a walk in the park.” He unzipped the lunchbox he had brought with him, and handed out three orange cubes to the ‘beginners’. “Alright, so first, we have a whiskey cheddar. Whiskey is fermented in oak barrels that can only be used once. So they’re sold to beer, coffee, and cheese makers. The cheese is stored in the barrels and the remnants of the whiskey seep in and give it almost a spicy flavor.”

They all took a bite, chewing thoughtfully, humming in content.

“Oh wow, I think I can taste the whiskey! That’s really good!”

“I’d put this on crackers and eat a whole box! This is really good!”

“I’m not a huge fan of cheddar,” stated Marinette, “but maybe I just haven’t been trying the right stuff, because this is awesome!”

“I’m glad you like it!” Plagg beamed. “And for Lila,” he opened a container and a smell emanated immediately. It smelled like rotten armpit. “This is finely aged Limburger, aged to three months. It’s imperative that you take in the scent of the cheese first, before eating it. Don’t waft it, just breathe it in.”

Lila took the offered container, sparing it a withering glance before she inhaled.

If her face could have melted off, it would have.

“It…smells like rotten feet.”

“Ah yes, Brevibacterium linens. This is a smear-washed cheese that gets a fresh coating of bacteria that prevents mold and helps the maturing process. As a food connoisseur, you’re getting the peak time of maturity. I usually let it mature longer than this still, so it gets really runny, like camembert~…” At the very name, Plagg moaned in a way that was inappropriate for young ears. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I got swept away in the moment. Oh right! Limburger, you eat it with your nose. Take another whiff!”

“I’m good.”

“Another whiff I say!”

Lila inhaled, and her whole body shuddered.

“Perfect. Now you can eat it.”

She popped the sample in her mouth, and swallowed quickly, shuddering the whole time.

“Good?”

“Hmm mmm…”

“Oh! I forgot to mention, the bacteria that that cheese is smeared with is the same that grows on your feet, that’s what makes the cheese stink!”

Lila made a face of disgust and turned a little green.

“Great! Round two!” He placed little samples in front of the other three first. “Okay, so this is a little more advanced. This is scamorza, which is much like Mozzarella, but it has a distinct smokey flavor. I think it tastes kind of like wood fired pizza.”

“It does!” Nino cried, savoring each little nibble. “Oh my god this is so good!”

Alya took a bit of tomato out of her sandwich and ate that with the cheese. “Oh, that is just like wood fired pizza. I’d love to try this warm! You have to get more of this!”

Plagg grinned. “And you, Marinette?”

Marinette was still chewing, and just nodded with closed eyes and a contented sigh.

“Awesome! I personally think scamorza is too mild, but it’s still very good. So for Lila I have another advanced taste.” He took out another sealed container and popped the lid. The smell wasn’t as brutal as the Limburger, but it was still potent. “This is Casu Marzu, a Sardinian delicacy. So it should sound familiar to you, since you’re from Italy and all. It’s made from sheep’s milk. Oh! And it’s illegal, so this sample is from a ‘friend’ who will not be named.”

Lila held the container a little away from her face and peered at it with hesitation. Her lip curled up in disgust, before she gave Plagg an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Adrien. It looks like this cheese has gone bad.” And she pushed the container back towards him.

He looked in it. “It looks fine to me. They’re alive. That’s a good thing.”

“Adrien, those are maggots.”

“Cheese fly maggots, to be exact,” he corrected. “They’re introduced to the cheese to help break down the fat in the milk.” He pushed the container back in front of her. “I mean, it’s not any more gross than escargot, or caviar, or grasshopper, or tequila worms, you know?”

She looked back at the worms, her lip trembling. “This is a delicacy?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t bring bad cheese in for a laugh.” He took out a spoon and scooped out a little cheese, worms and all, and spread it on a piece of flatbread. Then he ate it. “Ohhh that’s good!”

“I…” She cast one more look at the container and confessed, “I’m sorry Adrien. I just can’t do it. It’s too gross for me.”

“Oh,” said Plagg, with genuine sadness in his voice. “Okay I guess...anyone else want to try?”

Marinette, who was always looking for a chance to show up Lila, offered up, “I’ll give it a try.”

Plagg’s eyes widened with glee. “You will?!”

“Sure. Even if it’s gross, I can say I tried it. Not everyday you get to eat illegal cheese. And you ate some, afterall.”

“Yes! I promise it’ll be worth it! You just have to thoroughly chew it to kill the maggots.”

Marinette scrunched up her nose. “Can I...kind of eat around the worms?”

“You can try.”

So to Marinette’s credit, she did eat some of the cheese, though it was picked through, and she scraped what she could off with a knife. Then she spread a little on a larger piece of bread, more bread than cheese obviously, then chewed her sample thoroughly.

“Well?” Asked Plagg, bouncing in his seat. “I think it’s kind of like Camembert and Gorgonzola had a baby. A rotten, decaying baby.”

“Mmm hmmm.” Marinette nodded, her lips shut tight. Once she swallowed, she downed a huge swig of her water, swishing around in her mouth first.

“That bad, huh?” Asked Alya.

“No no, it actually tasted really really good. And I couldn’t feel the worms or anything. I just couldn’t get over the idea that they were there. You know?”

“It’s scary!” Plagg assured. “I know it freaked me out when I was a kid, but if it wasn’t worth it, they wouldn’t make it!”

“You’re wicked brave, Marinette.” Nino patted her on the back.

She chuckled. “Alright. Do you have any more samples so I can cleanse my palette?”

“Oh yep! Last round!” He set out three more samples. “So this is Cantal. It’s from Cantal, France, obviously. And it’s often thought of as a dessert cheese, as it’s got a sort of spicy sweet taste, or like hazelnuts. Oh, and you’ll want to eat it with these apple slices. This is a young wheel, only two months old.”

Contented hums filled the air as the three munched on the sweet, buttery, fruity delight.

Plagg felt extremely pleased that he convinced Adrien’s friends to eat cheese. And he was especially proud of Marinette for eating the best, most amazing cheese of all time. If casu marzu wasn’t an absolute pain to get ahold of, and if it were more portable, he’d demand Adrien to get him that instead of Camembert.

But, as it was, they had to go with more convenient cheeses.

“I think I’m all cheesed out...” said Lila.

“Dude, you only actually had one sample. You can’t bow out now!”

At this point, especially after the maggots, a small crowd had assembled around the table to observe the tasting. And if anyone would cave under peer pressure, it was Lila.

“Well, I suppose I could try one more...”

“Perfect! Because this last sample is really special!” He placed the little white flecked square in front of her. “This is my take on pepper jack cheese.”

“Wait, you made this?” She asked.

“Yep! I figured that if I love eating cheese so much, I should make my own!”

“So what’s it made of?” Lila asked, hesitant.

“You have to guess! I want to see if you can guess the milk and the pepper. It’s part cow milk, obviously, but I wanted a different flavor that you don’t get with most semi hard cheeses.”

“And there’s no bugs in it?”

Plagg laughed. “Nope, no bugs!”

Feeling a bit better, Lila brought the sample up to her mouth. The smell was subtle, a little spicy, a little milky. Not at all like the last two.

She bit the sample in half, and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s...kind of sweet...but the spice is...” she blinked a few times, her face turning red and eyes watering. “It’s hot. It’s really hot!” She ate the other half, and then regretted it. “Ugh! I shouldn’t have done that!” She swallowed and downed her little carton of milk, but the heat wouldn’t leave. It kept getting worse and worse!

“What did you put in there?! What was that?!”

Plagg looked confused. “It’s really that spicy?”

“My mouth hurts!! It hurts to talk!”

“All it is is Carolina Reaper and Breast Milk.”

Lila was up and out like a bolt, running to the bathroom to hurl.

Marinette likewise, had to leave the room, as her uproarious laughing at Lila’s suffering would have looked really bad.

—

(If you were looking for the cheese free section of the chapter, this is it!)

Lila didn’t return to class immediately. In fact, it was two periods later when she finally returned. Her face was flushed and her eyes bloodshot, and she had a wet spot on her shirt. Before everyone settled in, she claimed Adrien’s old seat, right up front.

“Sorry,” she croaked, her voice hoarse after retching so much. “Vomiting usually exacerbates my tinnitus. I hope you don’t mind if I sit up front, Adrien.”

Nino answered, “oh dude, you can have my spot. That way you and Adrien can still sit together!”

Lila’s eyes widened slightly in horror, but before she could protest, Alya slid into the spare seat. She was unfortunately not in on the plan, and was picking up all the blatant body language Plagg was ignoring. “I think Lila needs a little girl time, after her rough lunchtime experience.”

Marinette silently scooted over into Alya’s spot, so that Plagg could sit right behind Lila. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. Nino gave them both a silent thumbs up and took the open spot in the back of the room.

Lila let out a sigh of relief.

“You okay, girl?” Alya asked.

“Yeah.” She said shortly. Lila was done with the day. She would have gone home if she thought her mom would believe the cheese story, but as it was, she was already in hot water. She just needed to make it through the last two periods, and she’d be okay. Maybe she could convince her mom that she was sick and stay home tomorrow? I would be worth a try. She just needed some time away from Adrien. He was much too much.

As if reading her mind, Plagg leaned forward in his seat and spoke softly to her. “So I wanted to tell you about Stalhrim. It’s a material they added in the DLC, and you can learn how to craft with it, but it’s triggered by a quest. The first time I played the game, the person who was supposed to give the quest was killed by a lurker. Hold on, let me backup, so there are these huge monoliths call Standing Stones, and they all give you special abilities, like the Steed Stone let’s you carry things and the Apprentice Stone lets you learn magic quicker—“

As he talked, Lila’s fingers curled into the surface of the desk. His words didn’t even make any sense anymore, it was just this droning sound that wouldn’t stop.

“So in the DLC, the stones are totally different, right? And there’s this bad dude named Miraack and he’s also a Dragonborn. You remember what a Dragonborn is, right? Except this one is bad and he’s brainwashing the people on the island of Solstheim. Oh right, the whole DLC takes place on a separate island—“

The whole two weeks had been a camel. And each little rant or pushed boundary Adrien forced was another piece of straw piling up. Just then, it was like that fragile spine snapped, and something in Lila went from ‘playing the long game’ to ‘MURDER’.

“SHUT UP!” Lila screamed, pounding her fists on the table. “OH MY GOD JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!” She stood and whirled around to glare at him. “Adrien, you are the single most obnoxious person I have ever met! You just don’t know when to shut up! Are you dense? Are you retarded? How can you not see that I literally cannot give a flying eff about anything you say?! I was trying to be your friend because I thought it would be an easy way to fame. Then I felt sorry for you because of how awkward you are. Now? It’s not worth it. It’s not worth pretending to think you’re interesting when you aren’t. It’s not worth trying to ease back and deal with everyone wondering what happened. Everyone in class would wonder why we weren’t talking anymore, and I’d have to come up with more lies to get away from you, and I just don’t want to deal with that! You’re not worth it, okay? You are so selfish and annoying! Is this why your dad kept you home schooled all your life? Because he needs to lock you right back up! You are a menace!” She swung back around for a moment to gather her belongings. “I can’t even be in the same room as you anymore. I’m so done with you and your stupid rants about stupid video games! And what kind of weirdo is that obsessed with cheese?! You ate maggots for Christ sake! You’re disgusting! If you weren’t attractive, I bet your father would have regretted having you, if he hasn’t already!” She moved to the door quickly. “I’m asking to change classes, effective immediately. I suggest everyone run while you still can!” Then she caught Marinette’s eye. “Listen, I dislike you almost as much as him, but you don’t want him, Marinette. He’s an absolute freak. Look at him! He’s wearing that stupid ramen themed sweat suit! You know what? Forget it! I’m out!” And she left, slamming the door behind her.

No one had the nerve to speak after she left. It was just too big of a can of worms, no one wanted to open it.

The silence was broken by a high pitched whine, followed by a sob.

Though Marinette knew it was Plagg faking it, the sight of tears on Adrien’s face made her heart hurt.

“Oh Adrien...”

“You still like me, right Marinette?” He blubbered.

She hugged him. “Of course, Adrien. I love you.”

That seemed to be the words to break the spell and the classmates descended on him like vultures.

“You’re not annoying, Adrien!” Someone protested.

“You’re the coolest!”

“I love talking video games with you!”

“That cheese testing was really fun!”

“Who cares if you struggle with social cues? We all do! You do better than most, even for being homeschooled!”

“Lila admitted she was in the friendship for fame, her opinion doesn’t matter!”

Marinette whispered in his ear. “Nicely done, but I was not expecting that blow up.”

“Thanks, I was hoping she’d crack soon. That was just as violent as I had expected of her.”

“You okay? Those look like genuine tears.”

Plagg wiped his face as the rest of the class started to back off. “I’m okay,” he whispered. “Just hurts to hear someone be so cruel to my kitten.”

He glanced at the ring, hoping to see the final pad gone, and the one minute wait to switch back initiated.

But alas, no. The third pad was still there.

Lila wasn’t finished yet.

#miraculous ladybug #I'll handle this #fanfiction #adrien and plagg #plagg #adrien agreste #adrienette #ml #chat noir

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bjy-on-ao3 · 4 years ago

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Fic Friday: (Not So) Private Affairs

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Wrote most of the initial draft of this at 1-2 am via keyboard attachment for my tablet. I don’t know where it came from or why I’ve been writing about blowjobs so much lately in the past couple months, but hey, at least I could write something for my favorite Persona 5 DILF.

Summary Reader has a late-night rendezvous with a local airsoft shop owner not long before the store closes for the evening.

Tags/Warnings

Blowjobs, Creampie, Consensual S*x, Oral S*x. Reader-Insert, Semi-Public S*x, Shameless Smut, Vaginal S*x, Wall S*x

(Not So) Private Affairs (F! Reader/Iwai Munehisa)

It was difficult to recall everything that had led up to the moment you found yourself in, on your knees on the cold, hard floor of the airsoft shop in a small alley in Shibuya. Some idle chat here, some flirting and innuendos there, and throughout the entire conversation trying to suss out whether the object of your affections was even vaguely interested in returning them. Lucky enough for you, Munehisa Iwai was interested, and the banter that came from him was implicit but easy enough to read. Though, you weren’t entirely sure whether Iwai’s interest extended past the simple physical side of things. You would settle for something physical to start. If things went well, there was always time later to figure out if a more involved relationship had potential.

It was rather late, not long before closing time, and there was very little chance any more customers would wander into the store. Despite that, it surprised you just how bold Iwai was, given it was only the counters and display cases and dim lights separating the view of you from anyone who might walk in the door. Hell, even someone passing by too close and peering in would have a rather clear idea what was going on if they more than glanced. Yet, you surprised yourself, as well, with your willingness to take that risk.

Initially, when his veiled invitation had been thrust into the conversation after you had dropped in and talked for a little while, you had been thoroughly flustered. Your face had heated instantly, your mouth becoming dry and your heart seeking to jump up your throat. Coming around the counter and kneeling between his knees, you had fumbled with his belt, fingers trembling with excitement and nerves alike. But once you had successful unbuckled it and reached into his pants and underwear, those nerves had swiftly died.

Under your touch, Iwai was hot and thick, mostly soft but velvety at first, growing quickly harder the longer you brushed your fingers over him. Pulling him free of his clothes left any doubts or distractions to wither away to nothing. Left in their wake was only a hunger that made your mouth water. Glancing briefly at Iwai out of the corner of your vision without moving your head, you spied a pleased little smirk on his lips, broken only by the stick of the sugar candy jutting from them. The sight only exacerbated your craving for him and weakened your control.

You didn’t bother wasting time teasing him, as much as part of you wanted to. With only a soft lick as a small test of his flavor, you wrapped your lips around the head of his dick fully, flattening your tongue against ir. The salty tang of skin and bitter pre-cum greeted your tongue fully, and you released a small, stifled moan of delighted satisfaction. You sucked lightly for a moment, swirling and skating your tongue around the head and wriggling it against the sensitive spot on the underside until you heard Iwai inhale sharply. An appreciative, growling hum of pleasure from Iwai spurred you onward, and you took more in more of his hardening length. You relished the way the distinct taste of him filled your mouth, and how the thick vein on the underside of his dick throbbed against your tongue.

“That’s it, just like that, you’ve got it,” Iwai praised with a gravelly groan.

The weight of Iwai’s hand settled over your skull, not to steer you, but to thread through your hair and rub your scalp gingerly. The gentle touch was more encouragement and you could have practically purred, mouth still wrapped around his cock, hungrily taking more of him. When you reached your limit, you paused, sucking harder and hollowing your cheeks. Tongue pressed against the bottom of him, you bobbed your head up and down in a steady rhythm. Lost in your enthusiasm, you ignored the ribbon of drool that dribbled past your lips and down your chin, lost among what already coated Iwai’s length. You let him slip from lips with a half-audible ‘pop’, before circling the tip and diving back onto him all again, and repeating the motion.

In the back of your mind, there lingered the nagging reminder anyone could come in and see you so eagerly blowing the airsoft shop owner in his seat. Somehow, the thought was exhilarating rather than frightful, and the longer you bobbed up and down on Iwai’s cock, the more turned on you found yourself, as if you were the one receiving such salacious attention rather than the other way around. Your arousal reached such a smoldering height, you couldn’t resist any longer, not bothering to stop as you slipped a hand into your pants and panties. You slid a couple of fingers through your lips, already slick, and rubbed in light circles. Even with a soft touch, the added feeling was bliss, and you moaned lewdly around your mouthful.

Iwai didn’t miss the sudden change in volume, nor what it meant. He grinned down at you in amusement through a haze of pleasure. His free hand dipped down to grab your arm, pulling it up and out of your panties and denying you the stimulation you desired so badly.

“I don’t remember saying you could do that,” he scolded, though his tone was almost playful, far from harsh.

You whined around his cock, casting your gaze up as far as you could without stopping your rhythm, trying to plead with him silently. His grin remained as he looked down at you, and you knew he wasn’t like to give in to your wordless pleas from some simple puppy dog eyes. You didn’t let the theft of your ability to touch yourself deter you for long, though, or from trying to slyly pry your arm out of his grasp to disobey him, as futile an effort as it was.

After a bit of that game, you renewed your initial efforts, deciding that if you finished him, Iwai would hopefully return the favor. Worst-case scenario, he shooed you off when you were done and you could take care of things yourself as you had already tried. Noting the shift in your focus, Iwai at last let your arm free, and you moved it immediately between his legs. Reaching further into his underwear, you found his balls, cupping and gently fondling them as you moved up and down his shaft.

The added touched earned you several quiet, raspy groans. Once when you looked up again, you were treated to the arousing sight of Iwai with his eyes closed, his mouth handing partly open, the lollipop looking as if it were about to tumble out and escape. A new shock of heat tore through you, agonizing strong and intoxicating. Iwai’s dick twitched harder against your tongue and the soft, throaty noises above you increased, alike almost to growls of pleasure. You clenched your thighs together needily, trying to suppress the need Iwai refused to let you tend.

When Iwai’s hips started to shift beneath your welcoming mouth, he stopped you, holding you down on his dick for a moment before pulling you up and off abruptly. With his hand curled in your hair, you looked at him with a mixture of concern and confusion. Had you screwed something up? The thought came to you quickly, but was wiped away just as fast at the expression on Iwai’s face. His cheeks were flushed, a bit of sweat beaded on his brow, and his eyes roiled with intensity and hunger.

Iwai got to his feet quickly, not exactly pulling you along with him, but urging you to rise, too, and follow him. He directed you away from the display cases, away from the storefront where you, too, may as well have been on display. Iwai had finally seen a need for privacy it seemed, though your lust-addled brain was too preoccupied to consider why he didn’t just lock up shop to keep out any potentially intruding eyes away. You were bent only on following wherever he beckoned, waiting to see what he had in store for you, and hoping it would sate your ravenous hunger.

In the backroom, cluttered with box and inventory and other miscellany you’d expect of the airsoft shop - and some you might not have - Iwai stopped, turning to face you. You wondered briefly if he would have you finish what you started, now that you were away from stray prying eyes. But Iwai set upon you instead, pushing you back up against a wall on the least cluttered side of the room. He had clarity enough to toss aside what you saw was hardly more than just the stick of his lollipop before his hot mouth sealed over yours.

The kiss was ardent, sloppy from the lust burning behind it. There was a stray clack of teeth, and you winced before forgetting about it entirely when Iwai slipped his tongue past your lips. As it fought your own into submission, you couldn’t help but notice the taste that clung to it from the candy, fruity and cloying. His body lay flush against yours, radiating heat through his clothes and only magnifying the heat already rushing through you. His arms caged you in on either side, hands splayed against the wall, and there wasn’t an inch of him you couldn’t feel. The hardest part of him, still standing at eager attention, was especially difficult to ignore.

The passionate kiss didn’t last as long as you might have liked, however. But when Iwai broke away, you could hardly be mad, as his focus turned to your pants. He worked them down and off, hooking his fingers beneath your panties and dragging away, too, until they both dropped to the floor around your ankles. You stepped quickly out of them before Iwai wrapped a firm hand under each of your thighs and lifted, pinning you harder against the wall. He urged you to tuck your legs around his hips, fitting hotly against you, skin-to-skin. You placed your hands on his shoulders, holding tightly, even though you had no fears Iwai might drop you.

When his cock brushed against your lips, welcomingly wet from your hot and bothered state, you couldn’t resist the impulse to buck your hips into his. You groaned in unison, and his hips twitched reflexively in answer. You reached down, taking his length in your hand to guide him closer to your entrance.

“Eager, huh?” Iwai teased, though he didn’t seem to be interested in wasting time either.

With the head of his cock kissing your slit, he pushed forward, sinking in smoothly, halfway at first, before pulling out and driving back home. You moaned and mumbled a few incoherent curses under your breath. The sensation of his cock buried inside you and unmoving even for only a fleeting few seconds made you feel mad with need.

“Iwai, fuck, please, move,” you begged, grinding your hips against his, intentionally squeezing your core around him, trying to entice him to do as you bade.

“Shit. I will, just be patient,” he half-scolded again, though the guttural groan that broke his speech ruined any attempt to sound stern or serious.

He was true to his promise though, pulling out easily and pushing inside with a bit more vigor, and then again, faster and harder, and again and again until his pace was swift and steady. You ground and rocked your hips against him, striving for more of the delicious friction you needed to help you come undone. It was enough on its own though, and the tortuous surge of heat and tension firming in your belly made you cry out, desperate and obscene.

Your cries and enthusiasm only piqued Iwai’s own arousal, and he buried his head in the curve of your neck, grunting and panting hotly against your skin. His rhythm picked up further, and his hands still looped around your thighs gripped harder, making you wonder if they would leave fingerprint-shaped bruises come the next morning. That train of thought was disposed of quickly, though, when Iwai’s husky voice rasped in your ear.

“Go on, you wanted to touch yourself so damn bad earlier. Not like I can stop you now, right?” he growled, and you shivered.

You didn’t need to be told twice, relinquishing half of your grip on his shoulders and making a beeline to between your legs. You brushed your fingers over your swollen clit, rubbing frantic circles, your fingertips sometimes brushing Iwai’s length when he pulled back.

Pushed so close already to the edge from the aching fullness from Iwai’s cock and the tantalizing friction and primal sounds, you didn’t need long. The telltale tenseness in your gut drew almost painfully tight, your muscles tensing along with it, before everything burst and sent you spiraling into bliss. Your cunt clenched around Iwai greedily, fighting to pull him back inside and deeper still.

His groans mingled with yours, muffled where his face rested against your skin. You worked your clit until it was simply too sensitive to go on anymore, leaving your orgasm to ebb away into small, but still pleasurable ripples, your walls continuing to flutter around his cock. Each new thrust into your heat elicited a new noise, a moan or a whimper, each impact sending a shock wave of over sensitivity through you that was both devilish and divine.

When you thought you couldn’t take anymore, though, your cries reaching an airy pitch, Iwai’s pace increased even more, becoming the roughest and quickest so far, before he stuttered against your hips. He came with a few last, hard thrusts, pumping cum into you with each, filling you to the brim with a wet, hot sensation. He groaned bestially against your neck, teeth scraping against your skin as he tried to stifle the sound.

There were several moments of pleasant, sweat silence that followed your orgasms, broken only by labored breathing that slowly became more soft and relaxed. Moments in which you lingered in the afterglow of your passion before coming back down to earth. Iwai slipped of you, some of his cum leaking out and down your thighs as he gingerly retracted your legs from around his waist and settled you onto your feet.

Feeling somewhat weak in the knees, and a little light-headed, you rested against the cool wall for support. It was another minute before you thought you could support yourself without stumbling or your legs buckling. You managed, though, with a slight wavering that was amusing to Iwai, if his gruff, tired chuckle was anything to go by.

“Was that too much to handle?” he jested with a rakish grin, and you rolled your eyes. Though you were unable to resist matching his smile. Iwai glanced at the time, realizing how late it had become during your little rendezvous. “You should probably be getting home. Getting too late to be safe,” he cautioned.

Iwai’s concern was touching, though the fact he had left you a perfect opening was what made your grin widen. “Oh, you think so? Well, if you’re worried about me, why don’t you escort me home? I’m sure I could make up for the trouble.”

#writing #fanfiction #iwai munehisa #persona 5 #ao3 #archive of our own #fandom #nsft #n/s/f/w #fic friday #fanfic friday

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stachmousworld · 4 years ago

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Avenge me tomorrow (Ch.10)

Thanks to everyone who sent me messages and didn't despair to see another chapter. I have already two chapters fully written and I'm onto the 12th one. So, yeah. Sorry for the wait, my medication kind of made me numb and sucked all of my creativity.

Also, I have reached 400 followers! *cry profusely* Thanks so much to everyone who followed me.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Préviously: Thea was attacked by Jean during the last test with Hank. Nemesis and Thea mentally travelled to somewhere to Vormir and followed a little girl who carried the soul stone. As she sacrificed herself and dropped it from the mountain, Nemesis seized, then Thea, who couldn't let them suffer in silence.

Words: 2400

TW: blood, mention of self harm

Hank wasn’t okay at all. He rubbed his temples and focused on his breathing.

Inhale. Exhale.

The buzzing noise coming from the machine next to him wasn’t soothing anymore. He felt each second go by and his heart strained to remain calm.

There had been times when he thought he’d give up. Times of uncertainties like this one. It was what the X-Men had to deal with every day. It was what the cape of hero and superhero meant for them. A burden getting heavier every time they fought a villain.

Were they going to make it? Would they able to save everyone? Was it worth it at the end?

Their powers meant a responsibility that none of them had wanted. Other normal civilians expected them to save them and use all their abilities for the good cause, but what about what they wanted. To live a normal life in a world where people would welcome them without judgement. Or at least they’d try to hide it.

Hank shook his head and rubbed his temples.

He dreaded the moment when the newest generation would have to choose too. To stay here with them and become a x-men or go outside, in the real world and hide what they truly were forever.

Many chose to stay. Now more than ever. The mutant representatives in Congress, besides him, had seen how sour the situation was turning. After Sokovia, general Ross has tried to rope the president into signing the Accords. A new way to control mutants and to rate them as animals from what they consider being the most powerful to the least.

There was no doubt that Ross wanted to gather as much intel as he could in order to use them. Like a Pokemon trainer, he’d have all of their personal information and powers in hand ready to single them out and use them as war machines.

“Are you okay?”

Hank repressed a sigh and smiled tiredly at Scott, who looked as exhausted as him.

“I could ask you the same.”

Scott shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. Although he couldn’t see his eyes, Hank could tell he was staring at Jean’s unconscious body.

“You can approach her if you want.”

Scott hesitated. He started moving forward before stopping himself as if there was an invisible wall in front of him. Hank looked at him quizzically.

“Logan told me what happened,” Scott whispered. He averted his eyes and uncrossed his arms.

Hank waited for him to continue.

“Is it true that she tried to kill the girl?”

Hank kept his silence.

“Fuck, Jean…” Scott shook his head and walked closer to her. This time he didn’t stop until he was next to her bed. He sat next to her and held her hand. “Is the girl, okay?”

“Physically, yes.”

“And mentally?”

Hank stood up slowly. He rearranged Xavier’s cover on his body and walked to the door.

“She came here looking for answers and a refuge. All she found was someone who attempted to kill her twice.”

Hank closed the door behind him and walked to Xavier’s personal office. It was by far the most comfortable place in the academy and the closest to the infirmary. He didn’t want to leave to his own quarter and miss if something happened.

He let his legs transport him to the couch near the French windows and he fell on his back. He groaned when his back cracked and tried his usual deep breathing exercise. He inhaled and exhaled trying to let his thought go and find his safe place.

As he was about to find his peace, a familiar fire-like cercle slowly appeared in the middle of the office.

Hank closed his eyes and counted to ten.

“Need some?”

Hank stretched his hand to where Dr. Strange would be and grabbed a box filled with chocolates. His favorites. Made in Swiss with hazelnut and salted caramel.

Hank opened the box and popped a chocolate. He groaned as the sugary flavor burst on his tongue. He also mentally thanked Strange for letting him enjoy his snack before getting to the reason of his visit. If Hank knew anything about Strange, whatever he had to say would be terrible, would demand probably more efforts and involvement than Hank liked and there will be no true gratification. Unless they had to save the world…

He chuckled at the thought.

No one went to the X-Men to save the world.

Nope.

The Avengers maybe, but never the X-Men. They were relegated to earthly threats. And by earthly he meant the US, and if Ross had his way they’d be already on a leash as he’d send them overseas intruding into countries they had no business to be in and to spy on foreign government secrets.

“Lay it on me, Doc.” He said followed by a deep sigh.

When Strange left him, Hank fell easily asleep. A deep, perturbated sleep where a huge serpent roamed the universe, eating each and every single planets and stars until it got to the Earth.

Hank stood still, petrified. The dream repeated itself on a loop. It didn’t matter how many times he tried to escape, fight back…everything felt so real and vivid. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin, the fear bubbling in him ready to burst and the tension in his muscles as the invincible threat arrived. How could they defend their planet against this behemoth of a being?

No matter how many times he tried to control these dreams. Death. Destruction. Pain. All of these awaited them.

Unless…his last dream shifted into something new. Hank hoped it was something different. He only needed a hint of hope and he’d hold on tight. As tight as he could until the end. Because if there were a way for the Earth to be saved. He’d do anything.

Although Strange had sounded skeptical about any positive outcome, Hanks last dream anchored him.

The serpent hovered in front of the Earth mouth wide open. As it was to eat the planet, a feminine body appeared in a flash in front of him. Them. Anyone there to witness humanity’s doom.

The light surrounding her dimmed enough for Hank to recognize her. As he breathed out her name, the serpent stroke.

Thea, eyes stuck on Hank, raised one arm toward the serpent and batted it away. Just like that. As it was a mere insect. Its disappearance was sudden and without any commotion. Hank could hear screams of joy around him, but he didn’t care. All of his attention was on Thea.

She dropped her arm down, interlaced her fingers together and breathed into her two intertwined hands.

Hank swore he could hear her breath from within him. He felt the warm breath on his skin and his lungs something warm and delicious expanded in his chest. Hank felt tears coming down his cheeks. He let them roll as long as the felicity he felt could travel through him forever.

When he woke up, there were a few dried tears on his face and he wore a smile he didn’t remember having. First thing after checking on Jean and Xavier, Hank went to Thea’s room only to see her already awake. He stood at the door, feeling awkward. The dream contrary to his usual ones didn’t fade away as soon as his wake up and he felt a bit bad.

Thea was here for guidance, not for him to put all of his hope. He watched unsure as she examined her hands thoroughly. Like she’d never seen them before. Thea rose her hands in front of her face and turned them, eyes staring at each digit, intrigued.

The longer he watched her, the more he felt like an intruder. He stopped himself from fidgeting and put his hands in his pockets.

Then, Hank cleared his throat.

He didn’t expect Thea’s violent reaction. She jumped out of the bed and fell on the floor. Hank ran by her side only to be met by a strange scene. Thea was now staring at her legs like she didn’t know she had some before. She approached slowly her hand to her thigh and caressed her skin softly. The hand barely met her thigh that she flinched away.

“Thea?” Hank asked, worried. He watched her face carefully. The lack of oxygen in her brain may have cause amnesia. Something that didn’t appear in his thorough test. He cussed at himself. He should have seen it come. No one could live through that much trauma in one day and achieve a 100% recover.

Thea was still prone on the floor. She didn’t reply nor acknowledged his presence. Hank reached her slowly, trying not to make her jump and waved his hand in front of her eyes. The reaction was immediate. Thea looked at him quickly and stared at him, confused. Almost as confused as he was feeling. Only, she didn’t seem to recognize him at all.

“Thea? Do you know who I am?”

She looked at his lips, eyebrows furrowed. She opened her mouth to talk, which had Hank already sighing in relief. A small sound barely escaped her mouth before she pressed both of her hands on her mouth. Her entire face morphed from confusion to shock. She leaped to her feet. Or at least tried to. She seemed like a baby doe trying to walk for the first time. She wasn’t stable on her feet nor looked as if she understood the simple concept of walking.

Hank raised his arm to help her in case she fell but she managed to go to the bathroom alone. She stopped dead in her track in front of the mirror. She was half-way in the bathroom, standing still.

Hank stayed near her in case…in case…he didn’t know. She could have a meltdown, fall and hit her head on the floor or…

Hank pressed one of his hands on his chest and coached himself to breath deeply. Now wasn’t the moment for a panic attack. He could do it.

The seconds stretched to minutes. Thea was frozen, staring at her reflection straight at her reflection, hands balled next to her body, and Hank was on the verge of giving up and leading her back to her room. He walked closer to her. Thea surged forward, closer to the mirror and grabbed her hair pulling it tightly. She grumbled unintelligently. She touched, patted her cheeks, lips, eyelashes, making Hank cringe.

He rushed to her side and restrained her hands. As soon as he touched her, she went limp. He took a second to take his breath and pulled her closer.

Then everything went to shit. It all happened in a blur. Thea shrieked pushing Hank away. She used Hank momentary lack of reaction to get to the cabinet underneath the sink and grabbed a pair of scissors. She barely considered the tool before raising it to her neck.

“No! Wait!” He let out, unable to move.

She didn’t spare him a look and started slicing her neck. A small rivulet of blood traveled on her dark skin.

Hank made a move to stop her. A blue blur appeared next to Thea and teleported her. Hank swirled around when he heard Diablo reappearing behind him.

“Hank! Help me! I can’t restrain her alone.” He grunted under the effort. Diablo was kneeling on the bed and pining Thea by the hands, letting her legs totally free to jerk him away.

Hank didn’t move. He wasn’t sure he could.

“Fuck! What’s happening here?” Logan said as he ran into the room. He didn’t stop to take in the scene and went directly to help Diablo.

They restrained her in a matter of minutes.

Logan and Diablo discussed together over what to do while. Or that’s what Hank thought they discussed about. All he could hear was his heart and Thea’s shrieks. Everything else felt blur. He didn’t even dare move in case he’d faint or worse, have a meltdown in the middle of the room.

He didn’t even notice that Diablo and Logan led him outside the room and back to Xavier’s office. The silence in the corridor was deafening. He could still hear Thea’s scream and could still see her blood on her skin.

“Here? Drink this?” Hank grabbed the glass from Logan and drank everything in one go. The bitterness of the alcohol didn’t made him flinch. He barely could taste the liquid on his tongue, let alone feel its effect.

“I’ll…I’ll check on Xavier and Jean,” Diablo said quickly.

“Tell Hel’ and Malicia to check up on Thea.”

“B-both?”

“Hel’ is the best when it comes to healing and combat, so she’ll be able to restrain Thea in case anything goes south. And Malicia would be able to take Thea’s powers, were they to manifest. Last thing we want is a powerful and traumatized enhanced running around.”

“But what…” Diablo swallowed. “Wha-what about their “animosity”?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “animosity?”

“It has come to my attention that they had a lover spat and none of them wanted to work together. It never ends well.”

Logan raised his eyes to the ceiling. “I fucking hate these kids,” he muttered, then louder. “I don’t care Diablo. Tell them their asses are on the line and since Xavier and Jean are out, I’m the director here.”

Diablo nodded quickly. “Do I have to use your words specifically or…”

Logan growled, making Diablo squealed and disappear.

“Should have stayed in my forest.” He muttered to himself. “Lover spat, my ass. They love to fight as much as they love to make up…’ve to burn my eyes to forget…”

Logan shuddered and grimaced. “Argh, I think I need it more.” He said, taking a sip on from the bottle of rum. “This place is at that of becoming a brothel. I’m not paid enough.”

Hank huffed in agreement. The sound brought Logan’s attention to him. He crouched in front of the couch where they sat Hank down and peered into his eyes for a few seconds before nodding.

“Whenever you’re ready…” Logan muttered as he sat down on the floor and leaned back on his elbows, legs crossed.

Hank’s brain raked everything that happened for the past few hours and decided to start with Strange. It was the easiest that way.

When he opened his mouth, the sun was already high in the sky, Logan was now laying on the rug, awake, as if it was normal, and the screams were now faded in his mind.

“Dr. Strange came to see me today…”

Tags: @thedarkplume @jojodojo02 @the-weird-kid-on-the-block @kaileshay @jenahbell @allthingsuniquelybeautiful

@cobym @byb51097 @putinovertime @victoriastefanie04 @readermia @athickgirlsblog @simply-heaven @drsoundcloud @imkindanuts @t-bag2 @gigitheclown @candyloid @ravynnn-12 @deepmuffinspymaker @putinovertime

#polyavengers #mcu fic #xmen #logan wolverine #diablo #avengers x oc #avengers x black oc #black oc #avengemetomorrow

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adenei · 4 years ago

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The Mixtape Mishap - Chapter 7

Countdowns & Reveals

Ron walked down the stairs first, with his shoulders hunched over in defeat. He stalked back over to the chair he’d been occupying before Harry and Ginny had forced him to go talk to Hermione and clear the air once and for all. He saw his best friend and sister give each other a look before Harry walked tentatively over to Ron.

“Er, everything alright, mate?”

“Sure, yeah, everything’s just peachy!” Ron said sarcastically.

“Erm, alright, then…” Harry didn’t think now was a good time to ask for an explanation, but one look from Ginny told him he had to figure out what was going on. Why’d you have to go and fall for her anyways, you slick git. And she has no idea she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Or does she? Who the hell knows with girls. Harry abandoned his inner dialogue to appease Ginny, and to hopefully get himself out of this uncomfortable situation between best friend and crush.

“Were you able to talk to her?” Harry asked.

“Nope. She never came out of the bloody loo. I waited five minutes. Finally just slid the parchment I’d been working on earlier under the door for her. Had to borrow a quill from Ginny’s room to add that I’d wait fifteen minutes for her to come talk,” Ron explained.

“And I’m guessing she never took you up on that offer?” Harry finished.

“Nope. I even waited longer, you know, just in case. I don’t know what else to do,” Ron lamented.

“Sorry, mate. I’m, er, sure it’ll all work out? Let’s go try out more of those ‘shot shots’ the twins have. There’s only a little over an hour until midnight anyways.” Harry’s suggestion didn’t really inspire Ron to move, so he took the initiative to get some sweets and a couple of twin’s newest items to bring back to Ron. He caught Ginny’s eye on the way back to Ron and silently shook his head.

Hermione came down shortly after. She figured she’d give Ron a five minute head start before returning downstairs in an attempt to make their plan believable. After all, they only had just over an hour to keep up the awkward row guise before managing to position themselves close enough for the countdown, where they’d shock everyone with a midnight kiss. It can’t come soon enough, Hermione thought to herself. She was already missing the feel of his lips against hers.

If she didn’t want to stick it to Ginny and Harry with their meddling, she would have forgotten everything and just gone to climb into Ron’s lap where she noticed he was sitting again. She steeled herself against the thought and walked over to the refreshment table, forcing her traitorous body to stick to the plan. She picked up a couple of the different ‘shot’ shots the twins had played up earlier, as if trying to decide which to use.

“Trying to decide which flavor to indulge in?” Fred had sidled up next to her, watching her contemplation.

“Er, yes, I think so. I just don’t know which to use.” Hermione was holding a shot labeled ‘spiced mead’.

“It all depends on what you’re in the mood for, or what you’re going to pair it with. For instance, the firewhiskey would pair well with the cinnamon cookies mum made, and the spiced mead you’ve got there would go with the vanilla custard. My personal favorite is the chocolate liqueur with the raspberry shortbreads.”

Hermione set down the mead and picked up the chocolate one instead. “That does sound really good.” She moved down the table to pick up a raspberry shortbread, and injected the liquid from the shot into the cookie. She bit into it, and the taste overwhelmed her mouth. It really was the perfect combination of raspberry and chocolate. “Wow. Thank you, Fred. You and George really are quite talented when it comes to all of these creations.”

“A compliment from the one and only Hermione Granger? Well, thank you! Just wait until you see what’s in store next!” Fred looked down at his watch. “Speaking of, it’s time for the next reveal!” he said as George wheeled in something that was covered by a sheet.

Fred turned down the wireless a touch as George called everyone over. “Gather round to see our next creation!” Once he had everyone’s attention, he continued. “This is a party roulette wheel! There’s an enchanted notepad on the back where you can put the names of all the attendants and their names will magically appear on the wheel.”

“The wheel has many uses, and the notepads can be replenished when they're out so it’s not like you need to buy a brand new wheel each time. You can use it to pick partners, or to determine who answers a question, or really whatever you want it for!” Fred chimed in.

“It doesn’t have to be just names either. Could be anything! But for us, on this wonderful evening, we’re going to play Dance Partner Roullette!” George pulled the sheet off the object, revealing a brightly lit wheel with everyone’s names already included and ready to go. “At exactly 11:00, we are going to celebrate one hour to the new year as Lee plays a slow song over the wireless, and the wheel will pick your partner!”

“...but there’s an odd number of us,” remarked Tonks.

As if on cue, the back door opened, and Verity, the twin’s assistant at the shop, came in. “Not anymore!” said Fred. “Verity here has agreed to spend New Year’s with us, making an even ten,” he explained as George added her name to the notepad. The board shimmered as it updated to show her triangle now.

“Hi everyone! It was really very kind of the twins to invite me, as my family’s on holiday. I’m excited to see the new products in action,” Verity said with a big smile.

“Should we get started? We’ve only got five minutes until Lee plays the song.” George brought everyone back on task.

“How will it know once someone’s already been picked?” asked Hermione.

“Excellent question! Want to spin first and find out?” Fred smirked at her, clearly anticipating her question.

“Oh, I-” Hermione stuttered as Ginny pushed her towards the wheel.

“Come on, Hermione, spin the wheel!” Ginny encouraged.

With no other choice, Hermione grabbed hold of one of the pegs and pulled down on the wheel watching it spin round and round. No one noticed George adding something to the notepad as the wheel was spinning. The wheel slowed and came to a stop on none other than Ron’s name. She looked at the wheel in disbelief and then back at Fred and George.

“Excellent!” said Fred. “The wheel has spoken. Fleur, you next!”

Fleur walked up to the wheel as George crossed Hermione and Ron’s names off on the notepad, allowing them to dim on the board. “See? Now that your names are dim on the wheel, it won’t land on you again!” Fleur spun the wheel as George once again manipulated the outcome. He placed a star next to Bill’s name. He didn’t want to chance it, considering he knew what song Lee was going to play. Fleur smiled and walked effortlessly back over to Bill when it landed on his name. George crossed both their names off as Fred asked Tonks to come spin.

Tonks spun the wheel incredibly hard, and the onlookers were a bit worried it was going to break until it finally slowed down. Tonks gave a sheepish smile and made a retort about not knowing her own strength when the dial landed on George. Everyone laughed good-naturedly as Verity made her spin next. Ginny was pouting because she was last, and wouldn’t even get to spin due to the process of elimination.

“Guests should always be invited to spin first, little sis,” Fred reminded as he waved her off.

Verity’s spin landed on Fred, which left Harry and Ginny as partners. Ginny grinned at Harry, and made a comment about being glad she didn’t have to dance with any of her brothers as Fred turned the wireless back up. Ron was still on the outskirts of the circle by the chair, and Hermione was awkwardly standing next to Harry and Ginny.

“Don’t you dare think about running back upstairs to get out of this,” hissed Ginny into Hermione’s ear.

The music started to play and Ginny pushed her towards Ron. Hermione stopped as awkwardly as she could in front of him. Despite having been in his embrace not longer than half an hour ago, Hermione still wasn’t sure what to do next. They were trying to continue the ruse, so she wasn’t sure how to proceed. She hadn’t anticipated this.

Just then, Ron held out his hand to her, and she took it as her other hand found his shoulder. Neither of them looked at the other, as Ron whispered, “Might as well play along. I reckon they’ll take more mickey out of us if we fight it.” Hermione felt his hand wrap tightly around her waist as she nodded in agreement.

They did a spectacular job at managing to not make eye contact, but still muttered comments to each other throughout the duration of the song.

“Oh, I love this song. It’s on the album I have upstairs.” Hermione said.

“Interesting song choice by Lee. ‘Specially considering the lyrics.” Ron added.

“It’s on the muggle wireless all the time. Ed Sheeran’s all the rage right now. The song’s called Thinking out Loud, and it’s one of the most popular on the weekly countdowns.”

“Maybe not as peculiar then. Wish they’d all stop staring,” Ron muttered.

“Just ignore it,” Hermione said, trying to make her voice sound annoyed, though she was thoroughly enjoying this time in his arms.

Eventually, the song ended and they broke apart. Hermione was once again missing the warmth of his body. She quickly forgot though, as Ginny squealed when Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down Swingin’ came back on the wireless. The group fell into more dancing for the better part of the hour when all of a sudden it was already five minutes to midnight.

George was popping champagne and pouring it into the glasses on the table as Fred picked up the cylindrical objects to pass out to everyone. As Hermione took hers, she examined it. She noticed that there was a small button towards the large circular end.

“Don’t press the buttons, yet everyone! Not until midnight!” Fred said just in time, as Tonks was about to see what the button did.

“And make sure you point them at the ceiling, and not at anyone else!” George added. “These are only prototypes so we didn’t get the warnings etched on them, yet. Everyone come get a glass! It’s almost time!”

Just as Ginny was about to say ‘one minute,’ everyone’s attention was turned to the balloon wall. There was a soft pop and one of the balloons had turned into confetti raining towards the ground. No sooner did one pop, than another one start.

“Is that a countdown?!” asked Ginny eagerly.

“You guessed it! One balloon turns into confetti each second, leaving only the NYE 1997 balloons at the end,” Fred said triumphantly.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Harry were all gathered close together, and Hermione made sure she was by Ron’s side. Ron was trying really hard not to grin at her because it was almost time. They set their champagne glasses on the side table in the midst of the countdown craziness.

Tonks started the ten second countdown and everyone chimed in, “10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Everyone cried as they pushed the buttons on the cylinders, which exploded more silver and gold confetti, and the balloons that had been outfitting the ceiling also turned into confetti that rained down on them. Bill and Fleur embraced in a kiss as Harry and Ginny hugged. Hermione looked up at Ron who cocked his eyebrow at her, and she nodded. In one swift movement, he pulled her in and kissed her again, this time for everyone to see. He didn’t break apart immediately, instead deepening the kiss slightly in an effort to show Hermione how much he cared. Too soon, though, they did pull apart, both grinning from ear to ear.

“What the fu-” Their moment was interrupted by Ginny who was watching them with widened eyes. Harry stood next to her, his mouth wide open and also shocked. The rest of the crowd either showed knowing smirks or mildly surprised faces.

“What?” asked Ron nonchalantly.

“But- you said- I’m missing something here,” Harry tried, but couldn’t formulate a full sentence.

Ron and Hermione laughed. “Gotcha!” Ron said.

“So you’re sorted then?” Harry asked as they both nodded.

“Finally!” Ginny shouted as Fred and George held up their champagne glasses.

“To the new year!” they cried as everyone echoed in kind to the toast.

“And hopefully the best year yet,” Ron whispered in Hermione’s ear as he kissed her cheek. She smiled as she nuzzled into his neck. The year may not be free of danger, what with being Harry Potter’s best friend, but she could worry about that later. For now, they’d celebrate the new year and their new relationship.

#romione #ron x hermione #Ron and Hermione

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mandysimo13 · 5 years ago

Note

hey! you wanted those prompts. how about: "i don't want to be just friends"? (good omens/ineffable husbands, pls)

Ooooooooh yesssssssssss, @ina-k, you speakin’ my language! This is now also a fic on AO3, so please be sure to pop a kudos or comment on it, lovelies!

///~\\\

Two weeks after the Apocalypse-that-Wasn’t, the Nope-pocalypse, the Armaged-dud, the Ragnar-Went-Wrong, two celestial beings found themselves in a familiar setting, in familiar bodies, feeling decidedly unfamiliar with a variety of new feelings.

First and foremost was relief - relief that the world was, in fact, not over. Relief that there were still ducks to feed, crepes to eat, and plants to spritz and terrorize.

Secondly there was a feeling of directionless. They had not so much mislaid their intended purposes as much as they yeeted them into the heavens whilst flipping the bird for good measure. For the first time, since the dawn of time, neither of them could feel the little niggling tug that told them to cause mischief and to spread grace. Doing either seemed to them like going through the well oiled and practiced motions of blessing and tempting and it made them wonder what the point of it all was.

Third, and most surprisingly considering their shared aimlessness, was a sense of urgency. Like there would be another Gotcha! moment and that the armies they had pissed off would be back with a vengeance and that there wouldn’t be enough time.

“Enough time for what” is a perfectly acceptable question and one that both angel and demon would rather not have to answer, though both answers would be the same. They both wanted desperately to find their courage and scream I love you, I chose you, stay with me, pick our side every day for the rest of existence, all you need to do is speak and your will be done by my hands. But, you see, courage is a tricky thing. It comes and goes unexpectedly, even though it comes in times when all the signs and motifs and themes and histories tell you to expect it. Courage came for them when they faced down Gabriel, Beelzebub, and Satan. It filled their ribcages with fire and moved their hands, making them feel about as powerful as when Herself created the whole world. But then it seeped out of them, slowly and then all at once, leaving them deflated, tired, and with an irony flavor in the back of their throats.

Now, when courage was needed most sorely, it sat back with a glass of wine watching the scene unfold and wishing for popcorn.

The scene, in question, was Aziraphale and Crowley sitting in the intimate and well loved back room of Aziraphale’s “bookshop”. More parlour than back room, it contained the things it had always contained, plus a few extras thanks to Adam and his reshuffling of the universe. Before the End-Times-that-Wasn’t, the angel and demon would sit close but separate, always on separate pieces of furniture but close enough to touch should the occasion call for it. But in the After the pair decided that since they had shared bodies perhaps they could share a couch. Backs leant up against the armrests, knees turned towards each other as they lounged thoroughly drunk on the choice wine of the evening, they conversed as they ever did.

“I’m telling you, koalas are the most useless lump of fur on the damn planet,” Crowley exclaimed, gesticulating with his glass.

Aziraphale tutted and made a swishy swat motion in the air to bat away the, to him, unfair comment. “They’re adorable creatures! What with their big noses and their soft fur-”

“Their rampant chlamydia, their toxic bodies from eating toxic leaves-”

“They don’t all have chlamydia,” Aziraphale, defended.

Crowley scoffed, “enough of them do. And ya know, nothing eats them either!”

“Why would you want to eat a koala?”

“Exactly my point!”

Aziraphale began to laugh at that, slinking further into the couch as his body shook with ridiculous mirth. His knees slid along the couch until they bumped up against Crowley’s (not that that meant anything, it was a rather small couch). Joy and drink making him comfortable, he was reluctant to remove himself from Crowley’s space. A quick glance saw that Crowley had relaxed further as well, joining him in laughter, and looked to be in no hurry to part their small connection.

Giggles eventually turned into happy silence, renewed glasses of wine, and lingering looks over the tops of said glasses.

Crowley, glasses firmly placed upon the bridge of his nose, looked his fill without exposure. He watched as Aziraphale’s face creased with his smile, perfectly angelic in appearance, radiating love and happiness in such amounts that even Crowley could feel it.

It was said that demons were not meant to feel love, that they had lost the ability to feel love when they fell. The truth of it was that they were able to feel love but it was often drowned out by the forced feeling of the absence of love. Her love. The love of her creations. Her love permeated everything from the grass, the oceans, the people, even the fucking koalas - though they had a funny way of showing it by literally showering one with chlamydia. Crowley could feel the Absence so acutely in every stare from a human who could feel somewhere in their primordial makeup that he was meant to be unforgivable, unfathomable, unlovable. Since the invention of sunglasses things had been a bit better, he could sometimes shrug off that feeling for a time. When the one real tell of demonic-ness was hidden, it took longer for people to catch on. He knew the other demons mocked him for his glasses, for hiding away his traits, but he figured they were just jealous because it was easier to hide snake eyes than it was to hide a persistent cloud of flies and the inherent smell of poo.

But when he looked at Aziraphale, especially after the End Times ended, love radiated so strongly that he thought that, maybe, he could be forgiven and thought and loved. But even with the evidence wafting about his being like waves on a shore, he second guessed it. Aziraphale was a being of love, he loved everyone and everything regardless of their deserving of it. Unlike his counterparts who got caught up in the bureaucracy of it all, all the “who’s what’s where’s when’s why’s and how’s”, Aziraphale did everything just because he knew that somewhere along the line his actions would give pleasure and happiness, and not just for himself. What may seem gluttonous in a plate of crepes was actually a desire to make sure a local creperie, run by a Senegalese couple, would stay in business despite the hike in rent. What may seem prideful in buying an extensive wardrobe was really a way to ensure that the true art of tailoring never died, that there was always someone ready to pass down the knowledge of the old traditions, even if the tone changed with the times. He knew that Aziraphale felt bad occasionally for his indulgences but, even if it wasn’t obviously to himself, Crowley could see the angelic intent behind it all.

Which is why he couldn’t read too much into anything Aziraphale said or did around him. Sure, he was often prickly with him and had often insisted they weren’t friends, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He had been unfailingly kind to Crowley from the very beginning, raising his own wing to shield them both from the rain as they watched the first two humans trudge away from paradise. He knew that Aziraphale loved him but what did that really mean when he loved everything?

So, instead of gathering courage to speak, to declare, to move towards something, he sat and watched the angel giggle to himself, cheeks red with joy and wine.

He could watch that face forever.

Aziraphale finally caught him staring, his glasses slipped down his nose without his permission or notice, and his expression changed to something unbearably fond and concerned. “Is everything alright, dear?”

Dear, his heart clenched at the old endearment. Slowly, hand shaking slightly, Crowley pushed his glasses up to where they belonged. “Why would it not be,” he asked.

“You just...you seemed lost.”

Lost in you, he didn’t say. Instead, he shrugged and took a sip of wine. “Seems like we’re both a little lost. Having no bosses, no one to answer to, no agendas, having freedom. It all seems to be a little overwhelming, no?”

Understanding filled Aziraphale’s face and he sat up a little straighter. He scooted just a bit closer, unwilling to part their knees from each other for the time being. “It does, doesn’t it. I’ve never really considered the consequences of freedom. Always seemed like something for only Her mortal creations and not for us.” He looked at him openly, questioningly, “what does one do with freedom?”

Crowley licked his lips, eyes cast down towards his glass and missing how Aziraphale tracked the movement of his tongue. “I suppose it’s up to us to make our own agenda.” He looked up and smiled at him, hoping to bring back their easy, happy glow from before. “Can’t be harder than making our Own Side, can it?” He chuckled, hoping that would sell it and make Aziraphale smile once more.

Instead, it made Aziraphale lean closer in curiosity. “What...what’s on your agenda, Crowley?”

Blinking, immediately uncomfortable with the direction they were headed, Crowley leaned back as casually as he could. “What makes you think I have one?

Aziraphale smiled, then. “My dear boy, I have known you for over 6000 years. And if there’s one thing I do know about you is that you always have an agenda.” He huffed a brief chuckle and added, “even if you don’t have a plan for it yet.”

If Crowley were being honest he would tell Aziraphale how his agenda included nothing other than walks through parks, holidays to wherever was warm and sunny and abundant with good food, talks of books and plants and frivolous topics, and doing all he could to make the angel keep choosing him, them, until God Herself chose to end the world. But he wasn’t planning on being honest so instead he asked him, “what is your agenda, then?”

“To live,” Aziraphale said simply. “To really, truly live and enjoy all the things I’ve done, have yet to do, and yearn to do.” He smiled shyly then, shifting back a bit, and added, “I’d love for you to be there, too, Crowley.”

Crowley’s eyelashes fluttered against the glasses pressed close to his face as his blinked rapidly in surprise. He hoped he wasn’t too drunk and unable to keep his face cool. “Really? You’d want me there with you on all your post-heaven adventures?”

Aziraphale’s voice was full of excitement meaning to assure him. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends!” Then he said softer, love dripping from him, “the best of friends. Of course I would want you there.”

Despite himself, Crowley’s eyes became wet with an unasked for wave of emotion. He felt a lump in his throat at that threatened to choke him, if breathing was at all necessary for him. Without stopping to think he said, “what if...” He hesitated, feeling that creep of something monumental happening between them. He felt that same creep when something told him to wake up the 18th century because Aziraphale was lonely. He felt it when Aziraphale had taken a leap he didn’t want to make, for his sake, and handed over that thermos full to the brim with his “insurance policy” and he had asked the angel to tell him how to repay the favor. He felt it when Aziraphale threatened to never speak to him again.

Courage was back. Most rudely and inopportunely. There was no way to sober and restart the conversation and not lose the...something that was there and bubbling between them. Fuck.

Aziraphale swallowed, his throat bobbing. Hesitantly, he repeated, prompting Crowley to finish his thought, “what if?”

Fuck it. All or nothing, Anthony J. Crowley. Both feet, nose closed, hope for the best. “What if I don’t want to be just friends.”

Aziraphale sucked in gasp, shock on his face and Crowley couldn’t help feel like he had fucked up royally. That he had ruined everything beyond repair and that he would spent the rest of damned eternity alone. His tears finally spilled over and ran down his cheeks and Aziraphale said a soft, gentle “oh” and Crowley felt like death would be less painful.

Aziraphale reached out to his cheek and Crowley ducked his head, trying to avoid the contact. But backed against the couch and heavy with the weight of his confession, he was unable to move and Aziraphale closed a gap between them, palm coming to rest on Crowley’s cheek, his thumb brushing away the salt of his tears.

He opened his mouth to say forget it, it’s stupid, I know I moved to fast, I’ll stop it, I’ll be good, good for you, I’ll give you all the room and space you need, just don’t forsake me, don’t leave me alone, but was stopped by a finger pressed to his lips. He opened his eyes to see the one being in 6000 years who had ever given a damn about him looking at him with awe and such overwhelming love that he physically hurt. Beneath his ribs his vestigial heart beat faster and he braced himself. For what, he couldn’t say.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, voice shaky. The angel’s eyes watered as well, tears shining in the dim light and it made Crowley hurt even more to see what his words had done.

He tried to lessen the pain for them both, “just-”

“No! Don’t say anything. Unless it’s to tell me only good. Don’t,” Aziraphale choked on his plea. He physically swallowed around the lump in his throat and begged, “don’t take it back.”

“W-what?”

Aziraphale sighed and gently placed his forehead against Crowley’s. “I thought that I was too slow. That I had made you wait so long you could not possibly ever want me that way. That my own cowardice, my pride, had gotten in the way of the one thing I want most in this world.”

Crowley dropped the wine glass in his hands, caring not a whit for a stain that could be miracled away later, and clutched Aziraphale’s hands in his own. Trembling, not daring to believe, he asked, “what is it you want, Aziraphale?”

“You,” he said confidently and without shame. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see it. To acknowledge it. To feel its rightness.” He kissed Crowley’s forehead, lips lingering. “I can’t undo all the hurt I’ve caused but...let me try?”

Crowley tipped his head up to look at him and whispered, “oh, angel.” He pulled his glasses off, willfully sharing vulnerability, and said, “you have me. You always have. You could never lose me. Even if I had buggered off to Alpha Centuri all it would take is a snap of your fingers to bring me back. You have to know.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale sighed. Then he chuckled wetly, “look at us. Blubbering like old fools.”

Crowley’s low laugh joined him. “We have been for a long time, angel.”

“May I...” Aziraphale hesitated, though logically he needn’t have. “May I do something I’ve been wanting to do since approximately 1941?”

“Anything.”

“May I kiss you?”

“You’d better,” Crowley said, barely getting the words out before he had a lapful of angel and lips pressed blessedly to his own.

Their first kiss was tinged with the salt of tears, first of sorrow then of relief. It was full of joy, thankfulness, and above all love. It seemed to go on forever, as if they were making up for lost time all at once.

When it finally ended Crowley said, breathlessly, “I love you, angel.”

“I love you too, Crowley.”

Somehow they had ended up laying stretched out on the couch, Aziraphale atop Crowley while he snaked his arms around the angel’s middle like a vice. He stroked Aziraphale’s hair and asked, thinking of their previous conversation with a smile, “what else was on your agenda, angel?”

Aziraphale giggled, nuzzling his face into Crowley’s shoulder. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would, indeed. Whatever you like, whenever you like, however you like. And,” he paused, tipping Aziraphale’s face up with a finger under his chin, “we can even start with dinner.”

Aziraphale beamed at him. “That is an excellent place to start.”

Slowly, they detangled themselves from the couch and each other, never moving too far out of reach. They righted their creased clothes, sobered themselves and made their way to the Ritz which, incidentally, had a miraculous cancellation. Much like their first meal together after they both quit their respective sides, the meal was delicious and the conversation easy. Only this time, it was filled with plans that included the pair of them.

And for the second time in history, and this time heard by one lonely bum on a park bench, a nightingale sang in Berkley Square.

#ineffable husbands #aziracrow #i can't even with these two!#love confessions #fic #tumblr prompts #thanks for this!#ina-k

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taltos-seidmadr · 5 years ago

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I was tagged in a “Answer questions, tag people” thing by @apocalypticglitter so now I must oblige my civic duty! Thank you for tagging me!

Answer 17 questions (+1 because 18 is my favourite number) and tag 17 people (if you can)

Nickname: Sithi Sun sign: Sagittarius Height: I’m like... Three stacked cans of whoop ass. In a trench coat huge sweater. Hogwarts House: the valid one aka. Hufflepuff (Don’t @ me) Last thing I googled: BULL FROGS?! This is @mkingamess ‘s fault. I was curious how big they really are Favourite musicians: UHHHMM this is a super hard question for me to answer tbh cause my taste in music fluctuates daily. I will give a shoutout to some musicians/albums that I can think off the top of my head and imo don’t get enough recognition:

If you are into industrial metal/EDM type of shit, Hatari is really fucking lit. Some may know them from the Eurovision already. I just accidentally stumbled into them via the Discover Weekly on Spotify like half a year before the competition

The Magic Got Killed by Too Tangled - literally the two most attractive voices in the world, listening to this always makes me feel painfully bisexual

The self titled and only album of Fear and the Nervous System is is a curious experience. I have literally never heard anyone in my life sing with as much harrowing intensity and passion as this singer, to the point that I don’t even know if I would call it singing anymore... but it does work and fold into the instrumentals very well, creating a rather unique mood. Genuine “Let me wallow in my depression for an hour before I move on” kind of music. It might click with you, might not. But I do think it’s very underrated.

Pagans in this corner of tumblr I think would enjoy the shit out of Faun, they got many good songs but my absolute fave is Egil’s Saga

Song stuck in my head:

youtube

Probably best young scrolls track to date. Spits more fire than the Red Mountain, yo.

Following: around 300 Followers: just passed 1k(?! That’s a lot?! Should I do like, a giveaway or something) 🤔 Amount of sleep: What a weird question... I slept about 7 hours last night. Lucky number(s): 3, 7, 8, 18 Dream job(s): illegal back-alley cyberpunk prosthetics designer/repairman (dont have the qualifications or the technology but one can dream) bog body that starry-eyed semi-feral singers write songs about (possibly attainable?) village cryptid (probably already achieved the status but unfortunately not getting paid for it) artist (I’m doing this one, so hooray!) Wearing: I’m in my sleepwear already lol. It’s a pair of wide comfy black pants, and a big moss green shirt with a geometric pattern (there used to be gold and silver paint on it but that unfortunately faded out, now it’s just black). Favourite songs: My answer is same as above really... Idk harrass me in my askbox maybe I will recommend you some songs. Instruments played: I could play a little guitar at a time, but I’ve forgotten most of it.

Hey, this is only 15! I will add 3 more:

Something that I’m not good at but thoroughly enjoy: Videogames, hands down. My motoric skills and reaction times are less than desirable, lol. Nevertheless I’m a huge gamer and I just love to immerse myself in imaginary worlds. My favourite Halloween costume ever: I once recreated this dress from scratch with a fairly acceptable degree of accuracy My favourite myth of the god(s) I worship (if doesn’t apply, your favourite folk tale): I fear this is going to be an unoriginal answer, but seriously... could anything top Thrymskvidha?

Fun facts:

When I was born, I almost died.

In spite of my entire family being devout Christians, I remember believing in some form of reincarnation at such an early age that I had no business knowing what the word reincarnation even means. I was in fact very convinced at a time that I’m either one of my great-grandparents on my mother’s side, or from the generation before that. (Now that my religion is what it is, honestly I don’t really know if this is true or not. But I thought this back then for some reason.)

I’m left handed.

Before moving to Germany, I sang in choirs my entire life, some of which were fairly professional level, I guess? We would go to international competitions and stuff.

I don’t know if this was a weird coincidence or the spirit world itself shifted reality around me to protect me, but I somehow never heard the Frozen theme song in its entirety. In my life. Not one time. Not even when it was on the radio non-stop. If I managed to catch it somewhere, it was always when it was just about to end.

I used to want to be a professional animator, but when I grew up and researched about the profession more, it didn’t seem like it was worth the hassle. Regardless I’m still obsessed with animation, I watch cartoons all the time and I would like to teach myself how to animate even if just on an amateur level.

I have no idea how to tie a shoe with only one bunny ear. I was taught the two bunny ears method and that’s all I’ve ever known.

Some things that I associate with Loki that have absolutely nothing to do with the lore or anything include snow, a very specific shade of blue, roses, cherry (but only the scent or flavor, not the fruit) and various forms of iridescence.

Like probably all kids who are into metal, I also dreamed of becoming a rockstar a little bit, but more interestingly, in my fantasy I was going to be blindfolded on stage and I thought that would be my schtick as a performer, for some reason. Of course the cloth would have to be sheer in order for me to be able to see just enough to orient myself on stage. It’s somehow both hilarious and bone-chilling to look back on now, that another and actually kind of obvious solution to the orientation issue never occurred to me on my own

The green shirt mentioned above is the only green piece of clothing I own.

I don’t believe in astrology. :/ (Sorry...?)

When I was a kid, I entered a nationwide contest to write a faux folk tale and my tale made it to the semifinals.

The only “what is your favourite” type of question I can give a straightforward answer to is what my favourite book is. It’s The Neverending Story by Michael Ende (who would have thought!)

I knew I was nonbinary my entire life, but I only learned that there is a word for it when I was 25.

Besides my native Hungarian, English, and a little German that I speak, I also learned Japanese and Norwegian (in highschool and during university, respectively) both for 3 years each, and I was on roughly B1 (low intermediate) level in them at my best. I don’t remember much of Japanese, and I only understand a little Norwegian when it’s in front of me to read, but once German is no longer the priority, I would like to relearn them at least a little bit.

One of my completely useless talents is that if we talk to each other and I have a drink in my hand, I will somehow supernaturally detect it from your brainwaves when you are about to tell a funny joke and will attempt to drink just beforehand. This has happened so often that I can now suppress the instinctive urge to try to swallow the drink halfway wrong and choke on it. If you were planning to assassinate me this way, it would not work.

The reason why 18 is my favourite number is because my life seems to be entwined with it in a weird, almost supernatural way. For example an unnaturally large number of things that are important to me (including my birth) happened on the 18th of a month.

Since there is no Halloween party I’m going to this year, I don’t have a specific costume but I will definitely take my make up kit regardless and go absolutely feral with it just to be in the Halloween spirit a little bit.

Whew man... it was really tough to come up with 18. I’m more boring than i thought.

I tag:

@mkingamess @ragnarokfox @forest--walker @quietdedication @spellbookofthelostandfound @ast-heljar @cloudy-skyes @d-em-t @suilebhride @edderkopper

Anyone who wants to fill this out can consider themselves tagged as well. Tag my name in it too so I can read it.

#sithi's posts

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originalhybridloverfics · 6 years ago

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Olicity Dialogue Prompt: I’m Not Good Enough For You

A/N: If You are an LL fan, you probably want to skip this one. She isn't painted in the best light in this one.

The fancy dresses and suits, the champagne and classical music, none of it was anything Felicity was accustomed to all that much. The fact that she was here now was hard to believe at times. What was even more mind-boggling was who she was here with. Oliver Queen. Starling City's most famous and notorious playboy. If you would have told her a year ago she would be attending a gala and going public with her relationship with Oliver, she honestly would want to know what hallucinogenic drugs you've been smoking because a year ago it would have seemed so far from the realm of what was possible. The last thing she expected when she moved across the country to start her internship at QC was that she would start a relationship with Oliver Queen. A secret one at that. She had met him in his father's office of all places when she was sent upstairs because Mr. Queen had been experiencing technical difficulties with his computer. Mr. Queen had been nothing but professional and surprisingly enough, kind. However, he wasn't alone in his office. He was having lunch with his son Oliver who didn't even try to hide the fact that he was staring at her openly. Felicity ignored him for the most part only shooting him an annoyed glare twice but he seemed more amused in response than anything else. Not wanting to deal with a silverspoon playboy she had done her best to act like she couldn't feel his eyes on her. It was a relief when she finally left Mr. Queen's office. Fully believing that would be her last encounter with Oliver Queen. She couldn't have been more wrong. He showed up at her cubicle two days later brandishing a brand new state of the art laptop that looked like a hammer had been taken to it, claiming he accidentally dropped it down a flight of stairs. Felicity didn't believe him for a moment and had no problem calling him out on his BS, telling him there were better ways to approach a girl than destroying the latest tech. Again, she thought that would be the last time she would see him. She was wrong again. Oliver showed up the next day with a cup of her favorite espresso, having apparently asked around about her wanting to ask her out. Felicity wasn't looking to be his flavor of the week and told him so but Oliver was persistent. He kept coming back. Felicity had ignored him for the most part however he started taking interest in what she was doing at work, how her week was, small things that shouldn't even matter to him. She didn't think he really cared or even listened when she talked but then he would say something that proved her wrong and gradually she started talking to him on her own without him prompting her to and the days where he brought her coffee evolved to him bringing her lunch instead and never once did he give up on asking her out. After two months Felicity agreed to one date on the condition that she didn't end up in a gossip rag. She may just be an intern but she worked her butt off to get here, it was bad enough her co-workers talked about Oliver coming to see her every day, she didn't need the entire city thinking she was climbing the company ladder so to speak by climbing the heir to QC. Oliver readily agreed to do anything she asked of him if it meant he finally got that date he been hoping for. Felicity thoroughly enjoyed herself on their date and wished she had said yes sooner. That one date turned into another and another and another and before she knew it they were secretly dating. And in the eight months, they had been dating Oliver had always let her know he would be okay with keeping their relationship a secret as long as she wanted no matter how much he wanted more. And if Felicity was being honest so did she. When his ex-girlfriend Laurel Lance started coming around it was the final push Felicity needed. She wanted all of Starling City to know her man was no longer on the market. He was hers and she was his. Oliver had been thrilled she was ready to go public, showing his appreciation 10 times over. Oliver could be really really appreciative. Now, here they were at one of the city's biggest events, packed with Starling’s elite crowd, cameras and reporters. It was daunting but not nearly as daunting as meeting the Queen family. Robert had been welcoming, remembering her. Thea Queen was friendly enough besides one offhand comment that she didn't look like her brother's type but maybe his taste had finally improved since his last girlfriend. Oliver's mother, Moira had been calculating at best. She didn't seem all that impressed that Felicity was from Vegas or that she now worked in IT, having finished her internship and accepted a job with QC. Moira seemed to soften though when Oliver informed her she graduated from MIT at the age of 19 with a Daul Masters degree in Applied Science and Cyber Security and had an IQ of 179. Felicity had been flattered that Oliver was so enamored with her that he felt the need to boast about her, not hiding just how proud of her he was for her accomplishments. Felicity, by the end of the night, wasn't sure why she had been so worried. She was just glad that Oliver's family seemed to approve of her. “Dance with me.” Felicity felt Oliver's fingers intertwined with hers, gently tugging her onto the dance floor. “This is nice, “ Felicity murmured, her arms looped around his neck. “Not as bad as you were anticipating?” Oliver wondered with an affectionate smile. “No,” she shook her head. “Not at all.” Oliver smiled, leaning down to press his lips softly against hers. Felicity hummed in response, arms tightening around his neck, Oliver's hands moved from her waist, cupping her face in his hands as he deepened the kiss. Felicity grasped the lapels of his suit jacket, arching up against him as their lips glided together, slowly, savoring. The flash of a camera had them reluctantly ending the kiss, Felicity looked to her left and saw a photographer on the edge of the room, her camera lens focused on them. Felicity cheeks heated and she turned back to Oliver burying her face into his clothed chest, her hands reaching beneath his jacket, fingers curling around his suspender straps. “I totally forgot we weren't alone.” She muttered and Oliver laughed. Felicity's head snapped up, glaring slightly. “I'm not seeing the humor about this.” Oliver smoothed his hands down her back, settling them on her waist as he grinned down at her. “I just really love the thought that kissing me can make everything else fall away for you.” “That's really sweet,” she smiled softly. “If we weren't currently the focus of a pap, I would be kissing you right now.” “Jessica isn't a pap. She works all the charity events my family sponsors. She's good and not someone we should be worried about.” “So, I'm not going to see a picture of us, making out on the dance floor tomorrow in the gossip rags?” Felicity challenged. “Not any picture Jessica takes tonight,” Oliver promised. Felicity nodded, deciding to take his word on it. “There you are man,” Tommy seemed to appear out of nowhere. “I need to borrow you for a few minutes.” Tommy grinned at Felicity. “I'll have him back to you in no time, Smoaky.” “Yeah, go ahead, I'll just get us some drinks.” Felicity waved him off. She had met Tommy a few weeks into her and Oliver's relationship when he walked in on them making out on Oliver’s couch. 5 minutes later and he would have been walking in on something else. Tommy was a whirlwind but she had gotten used to him popping up out of nowhere and his antics. “You look breathtaking in that dress by the way.” Tommy grinned. “Oliver’s a lucky guy.” “Yes, I am.” He leaned into her pressing his lips to her neck. “I'll be right back.” Felicity watched Oliver and Tommy cross the room and disappear into the crowd. Felicity walked up to the bar, waving the bartender over. “Hi, what can I get you?” “I know champagne is the drink of choice for events like these but you wouldn't happen to have any red wine would you?” she asked hopefully. “I do, I'll get you our finest.” “Make that two, please.” “You got it.” He filled two crystal glasses. “Enjoy.” “Thank you.” Felicity smiled, lifting a glass to her lips as she surveyed the room. “I hope you're enjoying your 15 minutes in the limelight.” Felicity turned to her right and saw Laurel Lance leaning against the bar in a purple dress that fit her perfectly, looking like she just stepped out of a magazine. “I'm sorry.” “Oh, C'mon, some lowly IT girl from QC dating the future CEO. Your intentions couldn't be more obvious.” Laurel replied with a condescending smile. Felicity’s hackles rose at the implication that she was nothing more than a gold digger. “You have no idea what you're talking about. My relationship with Oliver has nothing to do with my job or his family company.” “Your relationship,” Laurel repeated. “Even if you weren't using your body to climb the company ladder, you can't obviously believe that it's going to work out between the two of you.” “What could you possibly know about my relationship?” Felicity set her glass on the bar feeling the temptation to throw it in Laurel's face growing. “Your just Oliver's ex-girlfriend.” “The ex-girlfriend that has more history with him than you ever will. The same ex-girlfriend he always finds his way back to. I know Ollie better than anyone and it's only a matter of time before he realizes the glaringly obvious.” Felicity disliked the tone of her voice, the way she was looking down her nose at her like she thought she was something to be scraped off the bottom of her shoe. “You don't belong here. You are not good enough to be a part of his world.” Laurel's lip twisted into a sneer that was borderline smug. “And you are never going to be good enough for him.” Laurel's words cut at Felicity, exposing every fear she ever had about Oliver and her. She didn't belong in his world, she wasn't good enough. The Felicity Smoak's of the world did not end up with men like Oliver Queen. It was unthinkable. Still, she refused to let Oliver's ex see how her words struck home. “If Oliver is so attached to you and the history you share why is he with me?” Laurel features harden. “A few weeks with him is nothing.” “Try months.” Felicity corrected. Laurel's eyes widened. “Month's?” Felicity sighed. “I'm not going to stand here and fight with you. I have more self-respect than to fight over a man who has already made the choice of who he wants to be with.” She didn't wait for Laurel to respond, moving quickly through the crowd, the further she got away from the woman, the more her words echoed in her head, a harsh reminder of every fear she still had about her relationship with Oliver. She made her escape out into the empty hall, angry tears biting at the back of her eyes. She pressed her back against the wall, blinking back the tears. She didn't want to cry. It would ruin her make-up but more importantly, she didn't want to give Laurel the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to her. She breathed deeply staring down at the marble floor however the sound of heels clicking against the floor had her eyes snapping open and she saw the photographer, Jessica, walking toward her hesitantly. Felicity was relieved to see her camera was nowhere in sight. “It's Felicity Smoak, right?” she asked. “Yes,” Felicity answered warily. “I'm Jessica Carter.” She introduced. “I know, it's probably none of my business but I saw you leave and you looked upset and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” “Oh, I'm, no, I'm fine,” Felicity said as a hot flush of embarrassment washed over her. “Are you sure?” Jessica looked unconvinced. “Yeah, I'm sure. I mean, why wouldn’t I be?” “I didn't hear any of what was said but I did see you talking to Laurel Lance and it didn't look too pleasant,” said Jessica with an almost knowing look. “I'm not going to pry, whatever was said is between the two of you besides it isn't any of my business. I know it was probably about the only thing you two have in common. Oliver.” “Thank you for checking up on me, it was nice of you.” Felicity pushed off the wall. “If I can there is something I would like to say,” Jessica said with a kind look. “I have been to more of these events than I can even keep count, I've seen Oliver bring all kinds of dates to these things including Laurel but I have never seen him look as happy as he did tonight when he was with you.” “Why are you telling me this?” Felicity wondered. “I just don't want you letting someone get in your head and ruining something that most people are not even fortunate enough to find.” “And what is that exactly?” Felicity had to ask. “Real love.” Jessica smiled softly. “Just try and remember that.” Felicity stared stunned, watching as the woman retreated back the way she had come. Love. That was what Jessica saw when she looked at them? When neither her or Oliver had ever said those words. Did Oliver love her? She thought so but what if she was wrong? What if Jessica was wrong? What if Laurel was right? What if it was only a matter of time before Oliver found his way back to his gorgeous ex-girlfriend? What if Oliver was only- “God, stop it with the what ifs.” She muttered to herself. She stood straighter, breathing deeply, steeling herself. She returned to the bar and found Oliver there, eyes scanning the crowd, searching. His eyes landed on her and he pushed from the bar immediately, his longs strides carrying him quickly to her. “Hey, where did you disappear to?” “I just needed a moment to clear my head.” His hands reached out landing on her waist. “Is everything okay?” No, it wasn't but did she tell him that? She had never lied to him before. “Not really. I think we need to talk.” Oliver winced taking a step toward her. “Those are words a guy never wants to hear from his girlfriend. It never leads to anything good,” his hands tightened on her waist Imperceptibly. “That's cause it's not,” Felicity replied, Laurel words ringing true in her mind. She didn't belong here. She didn't fit with Oliver no matter how badly she wanted to. “I don't understand. I thought things were going really well tonight.” Oliver said, his forehead creasing in honest confusion. “They were,” she looked around seeing they were drawing a crowd of onlookers including Laurel Lance. “Look, can we not do this here. People are watching.” “I don't care about them. I care about you and when something is bothering you I want you to be honest about it.” “You want me to honest? Fine.” She raised her chin higher, steeling herself. “I don't fit here.” “Everyone loved you tonight.” Oliver protested. “More importantly you fit with me.” “Oliver,” she shook her head, strands of her hair fell out of place and grazed her cheek. “I'm not good enough for you.” Oliver's eyes hardened, his jaw clenched. “I've never-” “Stop.” Oliver’s voice was like steel. “Just stop.” He stepped forward, and grasp her elbows, tugging her even closer. “First of all, I have never heard anything further from the truth and if we were going down that road, I would be more concerned with not being good enough for you. I screw up all the time and you, your perfect.” “I'm not perfect.” Felicity denied immediately. “Your right because no one person is perfect but you are perfect for me.” “Oliver.” God, why did he have to say such beautiful words to her? He made it really hard to listen to her head and not her heart. “No, just listen to me.” Oliver pleaded. “Love is not about being good enough for someone. It's about how the person you love enriches your life, how you don't even want to think about what your future would look like without them and I'm telling you right now, I don't see a future without you. Not tomorrow, not 6 months from now. Definitely not 3 years from now.” His hands glided up her arms, laying lightly against her neck his thumb caressing the underside of her jaw. “Felicity Megan Smoak I am in love with you and you are the only woman I want to spend the rest my life with. I want everything with you.” “Oliver,” Felicity murmured, eyes shining with emotion, heart pounding in her chest in the best way. It was like his words and the love she could see shining through his eyes soothe away her fears and silenced Laurel's voice, her words in her head, eradicating her doubts. “I love you, too. More than I thought was possible.” She said quietly, wanting her words to only be for him. Oliver pulled her against him and closed the distance between their mouths, kissing her slowly, his lips glided over hers unhurried, pulling a quiet moan from the back of her throat that had him wrapping himself around her in response. Felicity grasped his shirt in her fist, pulling back barely an inch. “Let's get out of here.” Her lips brushed over his with every word she spoke. Oliver slid his hand down her arms, grasping her hand he intertwined her fingers with his own and led her out of the party without a word to anyone and Felicity followed a feeling of love washing over her.

Felicity heard the sound of her front door opening and closing, followed by approaching footsteps. She saw Oliver appear in the doorway, through the mirror she was currently standing in front of putting the finishing touches to her make-up. She wore a simple green dress. “Hey, you,” she smiled. “I'm almost ready to head to your parents for dinner.” “Take your time,” he walked closer, coming to stand behind her, scooping down to place a kiss against her neck. “I have something for you.” “Really?” Felicity turned to face him, her dress swishing at her legs. Oliver produced a white envelope. “Jessica stopped by the mansion today. She asked that I give you this. I wasn't aware the two of you actually formally met.” “We did at the gala a couple days ago.” Felicity accepted the envelope. “She was nice to me.” Oliver watched as she opened the envelope. “What is it?” Felicity pulled out a handwritten note. Felicity, I thought you like to have this. A reminder of when it's real it's worth holding on to.

Felicity reached in and pulled out a photo and her lips parted in surprise. Oliver shifted behind her and peered over her shoulder. “Wow, that's a really good picture.” “Yeah, it is.” Felicity murmured. In the picture she had her arms around Oliver's neck, her fingers curling in the ends of his hands, Oliver’s arm was wrapped around her so completely, it looked like he was wrapping himself around her, he was staring down at her with this unguarded smile and his eyes shining with love, so much love. She turned her head to look at him. “I love you.” Oliver smiled and gently turned her in his arms. “And I love you.” He pressed his mouth to hers, silently wondering if it was too soon to ask her if she wanted to move in with him. They could find a place just for the two of them and start building their life together.

A/N: This one got longer than I intended. Honestly, I feel like this one could be turn into a multi-chapter story if I expanded on when they met, how they went from friends to lovers and all the moments leading up to the gala. I might even come back it at some point to expand on it.

Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this one.

Tags: @scu11y22 @almondblossomme @cainc3 @cruzrogue @1106angel @erika-amber @lageniuswannabe @hope-for-olicity @msbeccieboo @icannotbelieveiamhere

#arrow #arrow fic #olicity #olicity fic #oliver queen #oliver x felicity #Felicity Smoak #dialogue prompt #olicity prompt #Fic: Series of Olicity Dialogue Prompts

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jflashandclash · 5 years ago

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Traitors of Olympus IV: THE LAST CHAPTER!!!

Their lunch went over the amount of time Pax had allotted, but there was no way he would cut it early. The appreciation on Merry’s face and the relief on Kally’s were worth every second of catch up he had to play, even as he bantered into the phone.

“Are you suggesting this meeting is more important than my own affairs?” Pax let the iciness slip into Santiago’s voice. The other end of the line went into panicked silence. Everyone thought Santiago had disappeared for good, but he couldn’t yet. Not when there were so many unresolved legal issues to attend to and so many people Pax could mess with.

Other than his phone argument, the van had been marked with uncomfortable silence. Alabaster spent the time doing his jaw stretches and exercises. Pax wanted to make a comment about a few other ways to work out Alabaster’s jaw, but—after one very awkward bathhouse incident where Pax forgot who he was—Pax had promised to check the mirror before he tried hitting on anyone. Or give tackle hugs. That had ended well with Axel.

Axel couldn’t stand to look at him when he did this. He didn’t even like hearing Pax talk. Some disturbed part of Pax enjoyed it, like Muahahha! This is how if feels! But, Pax knew that was about as fair as betting against Prometheus or Tyche.[1]

On the note of feeling vindicated about triggering Axel’s trauma and why, Pax admitted, it was unfair, Pax had chosen to hang the Triple A Chimera masks in their throne room. That way, he would cringe every time he caught saw the Leonis Caput helm and had to rub the stump where his hand used to be. Call it the espresso shot of incentive for whenever he wavered on their cause or thought about painting weasels instead of going to one of Santiago’s business meetings.

Axel didn’t choose to see Santiago again the way Pax chose to see the helm. Axel had voiced his opinion on the matter very thoroughly and with a lot of violent gum chewing. If Pax kept this up, and they found a way to attach an electrical plant to Axel’s mouth, Pax suspected they could power the entirety of Camp Othrys (Remastered) with his vehemence.

As their white van pulled alongside the other pharmaceutical vans, Pax ended the phone call. He grinned at the others, shuffling to his feet. No matter how often he turned into Santiago, he never got used to the limp.

“Good news everyone!” he said.

Curiosity sparkled in Alabaster’s green eyes. He sat up on the opposite bench. “Did you get a dead body?”

“I got a dead body!”

Axel didn’t say a word or react as he exited the driver’s side. He didn’t wait for them either, going ahead through the back entrance’s hidden doors.

Pax tried not to let Axel’s anger dampen his spirits. Instead, he focused on this opportunity: Axel had left Alabaster to his mercy.

Pax rose to his feet, almost stumbling on the bad leg.

Alabaster hopped out of the van. He sighed and extended a hand to help him.

Pax fished around his suit jacket—it became easier wearing the same clothes his dad did when he was morphing this often—and nipped a bite of his golden apple. He didn’t need to anymore. He had morphed into Santiago as soon as they dropped off the girls, but he enjoyed the sensation. Before Alabaster could withdraw, Pax morphed again.

That way, when he staggered down and leaned against Alabaster for support, Pax looked like a voluptuous, hot chick whose curves barely fit in the now-tight business suit.

Alabaster had a hard time looking at him. “Ajax,” he growled, though in threat or complaint, Pax wouldn’t know until Alabaster set him on fire.

Pax grinned up at him. “The corpse is super fresh, only an hour dead. It’s the right height, weight, race, and age. How much time will you need to give him a proper, evil gimp leg and some Iago fangs?”

That had been a fun experience. When Alabaster set to work making a mold of Santiago’s mouth from Pax’s morphed one, Pax had a hard time not trying to eat the bubble-flavored molding. Eventually, Alabaster switched the flavor to something much less delicious.

Pax tightened his—her? Unlike Lapis, who demanded a certain pronoun, he never really cared what pronoun he used, even when his family jewels turned into… that didn’t seem fair that girl’s parts weren’t also called family jewels. They were as precious. Maybe family pearls? He’d have to consult Urbandictionary later. Regardless, her for now. Pax tightened her hand around Alabaster’s tie. The bracelet that Alabaster had made for Pax glinted along her wrist in the sunlight.

Witch boy had a much harder time rebuffing her when Pax was a girl.

Alabaster swallowed at their proximity but didn’t withdraw. He looked exhausted, probably from hot-girl-overdrive from seeing Kally earlier. “To trick a mortal, a few hours. If the coroner identifying him ends up being a demigod…” he shrugged.

Pax had forgotten, for a second, they were talking about altering a body. She nuzzled her face against Alabaster’s shoulder, her longer hair spill out the ponytail and across the two of them. Although the child of Hecate’s spell pouches were all by his belt now, his scent still hinted at the herbs he carried.

Other than that bathing house incident, Pax had been an upstanding gentlelady… gentleman… gentle person? Whatever. Which really meant she hadn’t had time to disrespect anyone’s boundaries, or so Pax kept telling himself. That and she feared she’d breakdown if she let herself get cuddly with Alabaster. She had to be strong. Strong Pax baby that used all that bottled up fear, pain, and anger to scheme. Muahaha.

But Pax wanted hugs after not touching Kally the whole meal. And Pax had been so well-behaved recently. So much so, that Alabaster hadn’t set him on fire in months. Maybe…

“So, I see you get hot and bothered by corpse talk. If I keep chatting about it, will you let me give your neck a makeover? Look at Axel. It’s all the rage these days,” Pax said. It had been so long since she properly flirted, she almost forgot to make her eyes super wide when she blinked up at him.

“Ajax, I appreciate that you’ve kept to your promise for the last two months,” Alabaster said. “Don’t—”

Someone cleared their throat by the back entrance of the temple.

Axel must have doubled back from inside to give Lucius the automaton donkey a bucket of oil. He leaned against the door, arms folded, glaring, though Pax couldn’t tell if it was more at her or at Alabaster.

Pax pouted.

Alabaster tapped Pax’s bracelet.

Pax’s Mist hand dissolved. The glove collapsed into nothing, leaving the red scarring of a stumped wrist.

All his concentration faded. Pax morphed back into a boy, clutching his stump and empty glove against his chest.

That was meaner than anything Alabaster could have said, but Pax carefully kept his pout. Making Alabaster question his sexuality for a few seconds: a victory that trumped all other loses, including that of a functional limb. Probably.[2]

“Even if the Belizean coroner is a demigod, he isn’t paid enough money to pay attention to something like that,” Axel said, like his little brother hadn’t been trying to seduce his friend and use a van with sleeping bags the way teenagers were supposed to use a van with sleeping bags.

Alabaster fixed his tie. The skin under his freckles was bright red despite the way he tried to glare. “If we can properly set up the body in the swamps of Belize, it’ll look more like a suicide than a murder.”

“See, that. That’s exactly the kind of violence I want. Good ol’ autosacrifice!” Pax kept his smile strong. He refused to puff up his cheeks and pop them while thinking about autosacrifice: the amount of blood that he and Lapis had shed to contact the Vision Serpent recently. This time, he wanted to proceed as carefully as possible and get all the supernatural, visiony approval as possible before things went wrong. No more rash Pax baby.

He led the others towards the backdoors of the temple. He was pleased to see some new recruit had graffitied kittens around the door entrance. The next hallway wasn’t nearly as cheerful—Matthias had been focusing so much on restructuring the new housing that he’d only managed to put up posters of bands for this area of redecoration.

“Santiago is making a huge point to say he’s traveling to his home town for something important next week,” Pax said to and winked at Axel. “After that, Mr. Soon-To-Be-Legally-Pax-Patriarch, you and Lapis will never have to look at him again. Except in family photos. We should burn all our family photos.”

Axel clenched his jaw in his best illustration of I can be hot, mysterious, AND mopey. “I don’t like that you’re doing this.”

That was a conversation that Pax wanted to hear again about as much as he wanted to watch Alabaster cut off his useless hand again. Sure, in a few ways, he’d asked for both, but that didn’t mean he needed another bonding experience with a hatchet or a grumpy older brother.

Nausea threatened his stomach as he thought about how much easier it could have been with Kally there. She wouldn’t have let the procedure continue without him being sedated. But, she wouldn’t have let a lot of things happen that Pax knew needed to happen.

He shook off the feeling, jamming his stump harder into his ribs to force himself to focus. They got to the elevator at the end of the hall. It was already opening with the auto sensor Matthias had installed.

“Yea,” Pax said, “And I don’t like that my brother got attacked by an empousa and won’t tell me about it. You said you were going to find a way to easily change the subject from our updated style. You didn’t say you were going onto Vampire’s Anonymous. Did you at least give as good as you got?”

Axel sighed. When he rubbed his bruises, his expression turned wistful. They got inside, and Axel pressed his finger into the scanner for a quick blood sample to get to the top floor. “Ajax, I’m pretty sure I’d kill someone if I tried to do this to their neck. And, I would never give you a lead that obvious.”

Pax grumbled in Mayan. If Axel was leaving territorial marks, he could have looked into whether or not Reyna or Thalia had gotten a sudden propensity for scarves. Pax couldn’t believe he’d been so busy that he didn’t even have a guess as to which girl was Axel’s new best friend and which was his nibble buddy.

“When she’s ready for it to become public…” Axel trailed off. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them. “Then you’ll know. I’m not exactly fond of keeping our relationship a secret.” There was a hint of bitterness.

Pax huffed. “Augh, that’s no help either! Is it secret because of Thalia’s connection to the huntresses or Reyna’s position as praetor? You wouldn’t violate Thalia’s vows, but you also wouldn’t want to jeopardize Reyna’s already shaky claim as praetor. And I don’t know whether or not you thought relieving sexual tension through neck play was a way around Thalia’s vows—”

“Ajax,” Axel warned. “Girlfriend or friend, I don’t even let Jack speak disrespectfully of someone I care about.”

“Does Jack know?!” Pax demanded.

Alabaster cleared his throat. “I think Lapis may have let it slip.”

Which meant Lapis knew. Dude, Axel sucked at keeping secrets. “Ha! You didn’t mention Bast! Besides, if it was her, she’s not one to get catty with the other girls, but would be prideful about her including Axel in her pride.”

“Not necessarily,” Alabaster said. “She’s supposed to be in the Duat. She’s been sneaking off to visit us.”

Axel’s cheeks grew red.

Pax’s eyes widened. “Oh?”

“It’s not Bast,” Axel said curtly, eliminating one. “She’s a bit too… maternal and and—um—aggressive for me.”

Pax shook his head. “Ah, having a hot familial figure that wants to bang you. Now you know how I feel when I go on lunch dates with my half-sister.”

Before the elevator dinged for the complete stop at the top floor, something phased through the shiny metal. It scurried up Pax’s pant leg, tiny nails tearing into the silky fabric, saving Pax from Axel and Alabaster’s glares.

Between the “Aye! Aye! Aye!”s, Pax laughed. Baller, his weasel, burrowed into Pax’s sleeve, nesting into his armpit. Once the door opened, two more weasels scurried about their feet. Axel knelt down to pet Hunnie on the nose and accepted when the weasel wrapped around his hand in a battle strike. Alabaster tossed Nietzsche, the albino, something.

All three took off after whatever the dark object was as it scuttled further into the atrium. Obsidian doors were in the wall across from the elevator doors, one ajar to allow the rodents to enter. Pax wasn’t sure what to do with remodeling the atrium yet. It was imposing, as he felt like it should be, but they also lacked something fun, like bean bags and a dartboard with Jason Grace’s face.[3]

He really wanted Matthias to design a twenty story slide or fireman’s pole from this room to the bottom of the temple. Matthias said that would kill too many new recruits. Pax argued that it wouldn’t if they made it end in 20 feet of feathers. Alabaster said Pax didn’t understand the science of impact, but that Alabaster would see if he and Lou Ellen could make some kind of Mist buffer to accomplish the task.

Giggles interrupted Pax’s thoughts.

Just inside the doorway, he could see three girls duck out of sight. The sunlight in the room had glinted off their crimson skin so they looked like vanishing demons or, as Pax preferred, ethnically-ambiguous cartoon characters.

“Huh, Euna must be tending to the—” Alabaster started.

Pax gulped and sprinted for the door. “Cho!”

Axel immediately caught up along his side as they busted through the doorway. “What?!”

“I let Hiro loose!” Pax said. He’d meant it as a kind gesture—honestly, his littlest brother needed to get out from time to time, but Hiro and Euna hadn’t been in the same room since—

They skidded to a stop inside. Everything sounded peacefully quiet. In Pax’s not-peaceful life, he knew that meant everyone had probably killed each other. The sound that shredded the peace was a blade sliding against another blade.

Comforting.

More giggles erupted.

Axel and Pax scanned the room. There had been a lot of adjustments. The massive walnut trees expanded to form a canopy over the front section of the enormous throne room. Light could still come from the square dome at the top of the ceiling, especially with the mirrors they added to optimize the amount of sun, but the atrium was still dimmer than pre-forest times.

In the center of the room, where Eris’ pithos once sat atop an alter, was Joey’s statue, still smiling with pride. That and the throne were lit magnificently. Pax had made sure of it. Both to honor Joey and to annoy her if she could still sense the brightness.

The two tables that had once been used for meetings had been removed, leaving the throne in the back as the only piece of real furniture.

In a maze across the ceiling, Pax had added metal bars, like monkey bars constructed by a maniac, with ladders installed on either side of the wall to reach them.

That’s where they found the chaos.

A fourteen-year-old half-Japanese boy dangled from the bars beside a tree that was further from the rest. His legs bobbed uselessly under him as he scrambled to catch one of the crimson nymphs.

Pax knew there would be sixteen of those monstrosities in total, but he only spotted about a dozen in the branches, playing Keep Away with his littlest brother.

A crimson nymph curled up in a softly sobbing ball away from the others. Near her, Pax caught sight of Euna. She was, Pax assumed, pruning some of that nymph’s branches. Although most of the branches were thicker than her arm, Euna snipped them off with single strikes.

He knew the last nymph would be by the former fire pit, and was too small to play with the others. Euna had already named that dryad Resilience since it was a sapling stubbornly sprouting from Santiago’s tree stump.

The walnut trees had red leaves, like the color of the nymph’s skin, hair, and eyes. Something about not having enough light for typical photosynthesis—bla-bla-bla—chemistry—bla-bla-bla—child of Demeter. All Pax cared about was the fact that Euna had NOT decided to prune Hiro’s functional limbs.

Axel and Pax sighed in relief. Alabaster strolled in behind them, unconcerned.

At their hurried entrance, some of the nymphs disappeared back into their trees. Euna set her shears down, then touched the snipped off sections. The bark rippled, healing over the nubs to leave little more than a scar. She knelt down beside the sobbing dryad, gently brushing away her tears with her work gloves. “Your branches were criss-crossed. We had to pick the strongest branch, since they would have been sickly if we kept both,” she said.

The nymph sniffed and crawled up to lean into Euna’s long, black hair that hung over her shoulder.

Euna awkwardly patted her back. Then, she gently set the nymph back into her tree.

Once done, she brushed her gloves on her jeans and walked towards them. The vines and leaves dangling from her hair and limbs seemed to whisper with each step. Pax loved the fact that she hadn’t learned to control the whole “god glow” thing. It meant he wouldn’t trip over her when she found odd areas to nap or that he could use her as a nightlight.

At Alabaster’s raised eyebrow, Euna shrugged. “It’s not their fault that they’re full grown and have the mental capacity of toddlers.”

As much as Euna looked disinterested, she had been tending to these trees, and the former-fire-pit-new-garden, religiously. Axel and Pax had been worried about their favorite homicidal Korean until they brought her into this room and the dryads flocked to her like creepy, Satanic ducklings to their mother. When they were a little more developed, he was sure they’d run shrieking, “Mom’s home!”anytime Euna returned from missions.

The creepy blood-born babies brought Euna peace and purpose beyond murder. Plus, it sort of solved the satanic dryad infestation. Still there, but at least they were more like pets and Hiro’s playmates than unwanted rodents. (Pax heard that most people didn’t want rodents in their houses, which he thought absurd.)

Euna smiled at Axel as she tossed something at his head from her pocket. “Happy early birthday.”

Axel caught it, flashing a fanged grin. They’d been playing a lot of “surprise” catch to work on her situational awareness. He held up the glass vial with something gold and fleshy inside. Attached to the lid were a pair of familiar sunglasses that seemed to glow with an internal fire. “Is this—”

“A trophy from our fight last week?” she said. “Yea. Congrats. One down. Eleven to go.”

Axel looked ecstatic. He hugged the heart-jar close to him with one hand, then held out the other in a fist. “Pound it,” he said.

She fist bumped him. Her dark eyes searched around in lazy confusion. “Why isn’t Kally with you?”

“Yea, Ajax, why did we deviate from the plan?” Alabaster asked, shooting him a side-glare.

Pax had been hoping to avoid this conversation for as long as possible. At least now he had the perfect illustration as to his reasoning. “Because you just gave Axel a heart in a jar as a birthday gift.”

“I thought it was very considerate and sweet,” Axel objected. He stepped around the group, walking towards the back wall. As he crossed paths with Joey’s statue, he nodded a greeting, then he continued forward, to put the jar in the section they’d designated for trophies.

Pax pondered over installing a modern art piece on the back wall. They already had the Triple A Chimera helms mounted there and Phobetor’s piccolo-hatchet. If they were going to have a menagerie of random godly item and organs, you might as well shape them into a weasel.

“Where’s Lapis?” Pax asked, watching Hiro snatch at a dryad. The girl giggled and hopped to a different branch. He swung down from the monkey bars, onto the tree, not realizing how hard he’d smashed his knees into another branch. They needed to buy him shin guards or a riot shield for his legs.

“With the new recruits,” Euna said. “How’d the talk with Reyna go about the soldiers defecting from New Rome?”

Axel snorted. “We’re protecting defectors and her reputation is on the line. How well do you think it went?”

“So it was the huntress!” Pax said and snapped his fingers.

Euna gave Pax a confused glance. “Do you mean Thalia? She hasn’t been a huntress for… um…” Her eyebrows furrowed. “The middle of the sweet potato harvest?”

The fact that time had become difficult for their sprouting godling wasn’t the part of that sentence interested Pax.

“A month,” Axel supplied, patiently “You and I celebrated her physical sweet sixteen with her, Percy, and Annabeth about a month ago.”

“Holy Titans,” Pax whined, “So she—”

Before he could start guessing, Euna waved him off, sprinkling him with dirt from her gloves. “It didn’t have to do anything with me or Axel.”

Axel shook his head. “The prophecy she was trying to prevent is over and she has paid proper homage to her fallen friend. She had some other reasons, but they didn’t have to do with any current romantic intentions.” The way he said it labeled the topic clearly with Off Limits.

“Hrm, and an argument between you and Reyna could easily end in a nomnom fest. Augh!” Pax ran a hand through his hair, messing up the gel and pulling more out of his ponytail. “How have I become such a terrible information gatherer?”

“I don’t know. You were gone on one of your ‘business’ meetings,” Axel said.

The first month had been insane. Pax had to meet with a lot of contacts, both in the pharmaceutical world and mythological one, to prove Santiago wasn’t dead. He and Claymore had spent many a torturous session on how to conduct a business meeting without discussing anything serious, so Claymore could handle emails that involved real dealings. And, there had been the rebranding. Pretending Santiago had found God or whatever they decided to change some of the “business” practices.

Technically, Pax supposed, Santiago had found some god.

Pax’s stomach clenched to think of some of the stuff that happened to him when Axel was too “busy” during their time at Camp Othrys. One glance at Axel’s bitter glare, and Pax calmed.

“Hey,” he protested at Axel and Alabaster’s scowls, “I got this. You promised me. Six months. I know that’s an insanely long time for neither of you to have an aneurism, but I have four more months of unquestioned Pax tyranny and I think I’ve been taking pretty good care of us so far. Reese’s Sticks for everyone!”

“Yea, but how much of that time have you spent as you?” Axel asked. His ears flattened against his hairline.

Alabaster nodded. “You haven’t pulled a single prank in a month or worked on any art projects. Matthias has a calendar recording it.”

Euna made a face. “How does Matthias have time for that?”

Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them, swearing prank vengeance on Matthias as soon as he had time to conduct a proper prank. He pressed the stump of his hand into his ribs. His eyes drifted to Joey’s statue, to what Hera had done to her, and to the Leonis Caput helm and to what the god of war—former god of war, he corrected gleefully—and the goddess of love had done to Axel. That was why he had to do this.

That’s also why he couldn’t break down in front of the others. They needed a strong leader, else Alabaster wouldn’t be able to focus on cracking the curse of Joey’s statue, Axel wouldn’t be able to finally relax enough to play bump in the night with the girl he liked or set up the training regiment for their newbies, Euna… Euna would probably do whatever Euna wanted to, but he liked to think she’d have a harder time focusing on her new god-powers and sanity without him putting forward some effort.

And, he wasn’t ready to admit to them the problems he was still in denial about, like the times he’d gotten stuck as Santiago and called Atë in a panic as he scratched and clawed at his own face. At Santiago’s face? Pax looked too much like the photos to glance in mirrors anymore. That’s when the private lessons started of How to Be a God 101. Atë had taught him how to alter a single feature on his face, so no one would notice the gashes. She had taught him a lot.

He forced himself not to tremble.

Pax gave them a devilish smile, realizing he must have missed a response from Axel. “If I fail, you’re allowed to pull my ear off. If it works, I’m punishment-free for another six months.” He winked at Alabaster. “Then I can coddle Witch boy without interruption.”

Alabaster sighed. “Ajax, don’t make me sabotage Camp Othrys to maintain my dignity. I will.”

“I will be allowed to court him in polite, gentlefolk fashion,” Pax corrected. “Girls can court people too nowadays, Witch Boy.” He winked again.

“You’re not a girl,” Alabaster said, not looking at him or Axel. Axel made the terrible mistake of thinking Alabaster was the older of the two, so would blame anything that happened on him.

“I can if I want to be,” Pax said. This was when he was supposed to bump Alabaster’s hip if he was acting normal, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when he had been Santiago so often. He wished he could pretend, like he had for that second by the van.

“Kally hits hard now,” Axel observed, saving Alabaster a response. He rubbed his shoulder, the same spot that Kally had given each of them a solid welt.

Pax refrained from touching his with his stump. He and Alabaster exchanged a glance before Pax glared at Axel. “I know your vetting process for Axel’s List of Requirements for Taste in Sexy Ladies. Don’t get any ideas.”

Axel laughed, clearly not catching onto Pax’s threatening tone or the way Alabaster had set a hand on his spell pouches. “I’m just saying that she must still be training with Mr. Paine,” Axel said, “She must be bored, or even scared having to deal with monsters on her own. You said you were going to bring her, Ajax, and tell the others about this.” That bitterness returned to his voice. “And I think Lapis is going to kill you if we don’t have Merry start sessions with Hiro.”

“Look at him. He’s as happy as a condor with a deer carcass,” Pax said, gesturing to where Hiro had latched himself to one of the braches and was biting at the bark. They really needed to get him down before he fell again. Hiro didn’t need the lower half of his body when he was doing the horizontal swing of the monkey bars, but he struggled more with the vertical jumps on the trees.

Hiro, as they discovered, did not like looking up. It sent him into a fit. So, Pax reasoned, they would just make it so Hiro could move all around the temple without much up to look at. That didn’t work though when one of the more malicious dryads tricked him to the lower branches and he couldn’t boost himself up to climb and couldn’t use his legs to jump down.

“For now. You know he’ll fall apart when his medication wears off,” Alabaster muttered.

Pax couldn’t argue. “We do need a healer…” he said softly. “I just don’t know if Kally is ready for… this.” He gestured widely to Santiago’s throne room with its demonic dryads and eerie gloom and doom.

“Are you trying to make sure someone is comfortable?” Euna asked skeptically.

“No, I live to discomfort others,” Pax said.

Alabaster sighed. He reached into Pax’s pocket to withdraw his phone and set it into Pax’s hand. “We need a healer in more ways than one.”

Axel’s shoulder slumped. “And maybe someone to keep us in check. If it ever gets to the point that you don’t feel like you can have Kally here, maybe we’ve gone too far.”

Pax wanted to say Exhibit A and point to the heart in a jar, but he knew they were talking about his recent fad for dress up. Just one more week though. Then some poor Belizean tourists would find “Santiago Pax” dead in a swamp and his will would divvy up his fortune with his recently acquitted son, Axel Pax, as the executor.[4]

Would that change anything for Pax though?

There was still so much to do. Others could do it so much better than Pax, well “Pax” as himself. It had been so much easier not being himself.

If Kally were here, he would have to do things a different way. She could read all of them like a book. Stupid authors and their assumptions on people’s—haha—character. She wouldn’t let him do his weekly visits with his half-sister, or sequester himself in his room under the guise of business meetings, or talk to the new recruits as Santiago because Santiago was so much better as a leader than he was.

Maybe she could help him find a balance between serious, tyrant Pax and that soft child-prankster. What he normally was. If nothing else, her presence would get Alabaster and Axel off his back. Kally would probably be so lost adjusting the first week, she wouldn’t be able to keep track of him and his movements or who he was. If he set Alabaster up as her tour guide, then they’d both be too distracted—

What was Pax thinking?! He had to be there if Alabaster and Kally would be battling for cutest and most oblivious flirt.

Axel had thought this through too well.

Pax sighed heavily. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, squared his shoulders, and tried—as best as he’d learned with one hand—to smooth his hair back into a tighter ponytail.

Alabaster tapped the bracelet on Pax’s wrist.

Mist emanated from the silver and gold band and twisted until it formed a hand. Pax still got phantom limb spasms, but at least the Mist hand worked. He smoothed the gel back down. His stray hair, this week he took to calling it One Who Dodges Hair Ties, popped out to curl down his cheek.

“Can I at least make an official announcement?” Pax pouted.

Axel stepped out of the path to the throne. After a split second of her staring off into the trees, he dragged Euna out of the way too.

Pax walked through the room. As he passed Joey’s statue, he gave their marbled friend a quick kiss on the cheek, something he’d done every day they moved her here. Had he found out that she had a crush for him before she died, he’d have teased her relentlessly, and decided to make up for it during her stone age.

“I bought you a pre-released recording session for EXO,” he said, “I heard Suho’s vocals can crack any girl’s hardened heart.”

He set the CD at her feet. He still couldn’t believe people bought CDs. That was supposed to be for creatures that walked the earth hundreds of years ago. Later, they would have to pull the old CD player they’d salvaged out of Santiago’s room to give her some easy listening.

Pax continued forward, forcing himself to look at the Leonis Caput helm on the back wall. It felt right to have a heart in a jar nearby. The sight made him wonder if Alabaster had put Pax’s severed hand in a bottle of formaldehyde and it was now floating somewhere in the Witch Boy’s laboratory. Pax wished he could still move the limb despite being severed. Then he’d make it wave to Alabaster every time he knew Alabaster was in his lab. Questions to ask Atë when next he saw her.

Finally, Pax leveled with the throne of bones that was sewn together with tendons. He’d thrown a smiling panda car seat over it. Baby steps in remodeling.

When he sat down—bones were very uncomfortable; Pax didn’t know what his father had been thinking—he saw Alabaster mid-eyebrow raise, Axel trying not to avert his gaze, and Euna staring off at Hiro as he chased a dryad around the canopy.

He cleared his throat. “I promise to kidnap Kally—”

“Bring Kally with parental knowledge and consent,” Axel corrected.

“Hey.” Pax glared at the interruption. “We’re not shooting for gold and diamonds here.”

Euna shrugged, proving she was paying attention. “It went well with my dad.”

All three boys shifted uncomfortably. “You call that ‘well?’” Alabaster asked.

“Your dad hits really hard for a mortal,” Axel said, though Pax couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a complaint.

“He kept up with his military training,” Euna said, “I think he’s supposed to be visiting sometime this week.”

Alabaster and Pax groaned. Mr. Song had a very strict expectation for his daughters’ livelihood and Camp Othrys II didn’t meet it.

“Anyway,” Pax said, “I hereby say that Kally shall come here, but under one condition and one condition only.” He pointed a finger at Axel. “You tell me which girl got your neck.”

Axel’s jaw started to clench, but his lips curved into a tired smile. “You know what? Deal. You bring in Kally, I’ll leave hints that any capable spymaster should be able to figure out.”

“Ah, a challenge,” Pax said. He couldn’t decide if he was thrilled or annoyed. The fact that it was a question between the two emotions made Pax wonder if Alabaster and Axel were right: he needed to relax and smell the puff pastries.

“Assuming you have the time to take said challenge.” Axel examined his claws on his right hand. His pointer and middle finger barely had new growth from when they ripped off in the Labyrinth. Pax decided not to ask, since it was so inappropriate—

“Is it easier to court your girl now that those fingers have become more versatile?” Pax asked.

Alabaster choked on a laugh.

From somewhere in the trees, Hiro whistled.[5]

Axel’s face deepened to crimson. Those fingers curled into a fist. “Ajax, you have four months left before I can rip off your ear.”

“Allegedly,” Alabaster said.

“I think it was a reasonable question,” Euna said, “Those claws have gotta get in the way.”

Axel tried to keep his expression neutral as he changed the subject. “How are we going to tell Kally about this?” He gestured to their trophy wall: trophies from the minor gods that they had killed—two tiny gods and now one major. Ta-da! Pax was really proud of them for sticking to their New Year’s Resolution. Some people went to gyms. Some people slew a deity per month.

“Maybe we should ease her more into this,” Alabaster said.

Pax had to agree. Glancing from Joey’s statue to the Leonis Caput helm, he felt a smile crawl onto his lips. A malicious glee made him tap the armrest of his bone throne. In an instance that made him realize just how desperately they needed Kally to keep them in check, he leaned forward and asked, “The real question is: One down. Eleven to go. Who are we going after next?”

***

All the Author’s Notes!

This concludes the Traitors of Olympus series. For those of you who have made it through all of this madness, I can’t thank you enough for taking this journey with me, and it has been a crazy journey. (Pax is sobbing behind me. I think I saw Axel wipe a tear away too. Nope. Nope, that’s just him showing off his claws…) I hope you were able to enjoy this ending (it is VERY different than its original conception) and I really hope you’ve enjoyed the ride! As always, I’d love to hear any of your thoughts on the series, favorite ships, favorite scenes, favorite characters, or even for you just to say a quick, “Hi!” XD You guys rock and made this possible! (I’m not crying while writing this, I swear)

By September, I’m aiming to have the first short from Tales from Mount Othrys out, the prologue to this series, so you might not be rid of me just yet. Hold onto those pitchforks!

***

Thank you so much to Mel, my betatester and close friend, for inspiring me and encouraging me to keep going (and doting on my babies while I traumatize them). I would have crashed and burned forever ago without you. <3

And, lastly, I wanted to write a quick dedication to my Merry: I know you’re never going to read this, but this is how I wish things could have gone for you and your Nikhil. I’m sorry everything didn’t turn out like a storybook ending—you did everything you could with what was given to you. Please, remember that, and remember to take care of yourself. Nikhil, I hope you’ve found your favorite place to jam to comedy R&B in the Elysian Fields, hanging with the other heroes, like you, who are so good at bringing a smile to people’s faces.

***

Footnotes:

[1] Tyche vs. Prometheus. I think Tyche would win, because luck always destroys careful planning.

[2] Yea, I know Pax hit on him as a girl. Pax will still consider that making Alabaster question his sexuality, since Pax believes Alabaster’s sexuality is exclusively dedicated to his laboratory.

[3] Some things never change. Though Jack does think Jason Grace and Axel are now friends much to Pax’s pouty distaste.

[4] In Mel’s betanotes, she read this first as the Pokemon, “Exeggutor” and thought of an Axel version of that. I mean… Axel is both a psychic and nature type….

[5] Melbeta note, “HIRO FUCKING WHISTLED YOU GO YOU SMOL CHEEKY LITTLE PAX GET YOUR KICKS WHERE YOU CAN GET THEM XD XD … OH GOSH THAT PUN WASN’T INTENDED AND WAS MEANER THAN I EVER MEANT I’M SO SORRY!” Jack, “I couldn’t stop laughing at this. I think you understand why I needed to put this in here XD”

#Traitors of Olympus #TOO #THE LAST FUCKING CHAPTER!!!!#I'm not crying--you're crying!#seriously-a huge shoutout and thank you to Mel for this. I couldn't have done it without her.#Weird that I worked on this for three years #The time before Pax was convieved and I DIDN'T have his shit all over my room now #Seriously thank you guys for reading #comment or Axel might punch you in the face #or is that incentive not to comment for those Axel fangirls?#Meow?#Damn it I just need to make myself press the post button...

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osmw1 · 6 years ago

Text

Poison-Wielding Fugitive Chapter 23

Arleaf’s father stands up to stop me, but only to have the air choked out of him by his cough.

“Muu! Hold him back!” “Mu!”

Following my order, Muu leaps at Arleaf’s dad. I don’t think he’s exactly a match for Muu right now, but hopefully that’ll buy me some time.

Muu tackles the apothecary and pins him down face-up. Just to be sure, I hit him with a bit of Mild Paralysis Poison.

“Gah!—cough…”

That should buy me some time.

“Yukihisa?!”

Arleaf scoldingly calls my name out in, worried for her dad.

“It’ll be alright. I’m gonna save your parents... though I’m doubtful whether they’d drink this.”

I probably look like I’m being pretty stubborn right now. But this medicine is really tricky to make, and I don’t want to be liable for accidentally killing anyone. Of course, I don’t want anybody butting in. It might have been a little heavy-handed of me, but it’s because I don’t trust myself doing this.

“No… I think Father will drink it once he understands what it is. He mentioned that the potions you previously made were quite good.”

Is that right… rather, will he really understand?

‘Then explain it to them. Medicines with Marphina as the main active ingredient are effective against Bloodflower.’

I explain on Veno’s behalf.

“The disease manifests itself in the shape of a flower on the chest. That’s because Bloodflower is borne out of these tiny parasitic mold-type monsters that live on the patient’s chest.”

I didn’t think there’d be monsters like that. I guess not all monsters are visible to the naked eye. It really makes me feel as if being a Poison-Wielder is playing on easy-mode in this world. Everybody else has it rough.

“Marphina by itself has the same poisonous effect on the body as it does on the monster. But when mixed with Red Deathfire, it becomes more effective against the mold yet neutralizes the poison for the host. It even gains some antidotal effect.”

I get it now. That’s why you said it’s instantly curable. You just have to kill the monsters.

‘It is said that these mold-type monsters were the spawn of an infamous monster. The infamous monster has already been slain, but its creation lives on.’

The toxic mold monsters are instantly killed by the antidote. That’s why the symptoms go away immediately too. … does that mean the viruses and bacteria in this world are all monsters?

‘The only answer I can give thee is that it depends on the situation. There exist illnesses not caused by monsters. Bloodflower, though, is one caused by a mold-type monster.’

Whatever it may be, it’s a troublesome one. I don’t even know if I understand it completely myself. I’m not an apothecary. I’m just a Poison-Wielder and an inexperienced one at that. But if I can’t get them to understand it, they won’t take the medicine.

“That’s why Bloodflower doesn’t do much to people with high levels. The monsters’ attack is ineffective, so they just give up.”

I see. Because poison kills the parasites, I’m practically immune to this disease. The poison coursing through my body is deadly enough to immediately kill them.

“Your medicine lacks enough poison to kill off the Bloodflower. That’s why I’ve added in the plant that causes suffocation, Pogneuk, and deadly Dietetrodake spores; five percent by volume, to be exact. With that ratio, it should be harmless to the user but deadly enough to wipe out the monsters. Do you get it?”

The Mild Paralysis Poison subsides. Arleaf’s dad stays quiet and remains restrained by Muu. He doesn’t look too happy about it. I signal Muu to get off him.

‘What else is there… aye. Thou ought to prove to them that thine medicine is safe, so consume some in front of them. Well, even if the medicine were to be a failure and turns out to be lethally poisonous, thou shall be fine testing for poison with thine Poison Absorption.’

That plan’s just downright dirty… with that said though, I have no choice but to do it like this.

“I’ll prove it to you guys by drinking some first. I probably have been infected just by being here, but if not, it’ll work as a vaccine for me. With this, may I have your trust?”

Arleaf rushes to her dad’s side and nods at me.

“… I don’t think Yukihisa is mistaken about this. Father, won’t you give this a try?” “Cough cough… how boorish of you to get handsy on me, but I get what you’re trying to say. But I won’t trust you unless I see you drink some of what you’ve just made, seeing how it almost all poison. Don’t you fail now.” “Yes, sir.”

With his consent, I add five percent of what seems like pure poison… and mix thoroughly with the medicine Arleaf’s dad has made. I check if I had made this right.

Specialized Medicine Quality: Superior A fairly dangerous medicine made from toxic substances. Can heal certain illnesses. Extremely dangerous when ingested in large amounts.

‘A spoonful should be enough for it to work.’

It looks just like a regular potion and nothing more. I let it cool down to room temperature and drink a spoonful of it. It’s got… a particular flavor. A strong nose of osmanthus. Detect Poison didn’t activate, so I should be fine.

“Is this good enough?” “Cough… hold your horses. What if you go ‘Urgh!’ and fall over dead as I take a sip?”

Well, fair. Not much I can do but wait about ten minutes. As fine and unperturbed as I seem, Arleaf’s father looks at me with dubious eyes. His suspicion leads him to retrieving an expensive-looking bottle of antidote from a cupboard. He’s a cautious one.

“Father, wouldn’t it be less effective if you take both the medicine and antidote together?” “Arleaf! You were watchin’, weren’t ya? If he screwed up at all, I’m drinking nothing but poison. I’ve got to be prepared.” “Goodness… Yukihisa tested it for poison already! You’re being rude! Now, hurry up and take some of the medicine.”

Arleaf helps her father drink some of the medicine I had prepared.

“Ugh…”

It works promptly.

“Cou—huh?!”

Shocked, Arleaf’s father stops mid-cough and pats his chest. The petals on his chest disappear, as does the paleness on his face. He truly has fully recovered in an instant.

“What in the gods’ names?! I’ve been cured that easily?!”

That’s quick for sure. It took almost a whole second. The reason why it’s so easily curable is because monsters were the cause of it. Well… I might be cherry-picking, but the medicine in this world is amazing. It’s just like in a game, where your ailments heal at once.

‘Bloodflower may be dangerous, but the monsters are weak. Take the appropriate steps and they are easily defeated.’

They may be resistant to all sorts of potions and antidotes, so they do have some kind of fortitude. Not to mention, they’re microscopic, just like a virus. They’re bound to quickly die if you pump your body full of poison.

“Bloodflower isn’t really a disease and this isn’t really a cure… it’s monster hunting.” “Monsters, huh? No wonder medicine doesn’t really work…”

Seems like he believes me now. Well, he should naturally, seeing how effective the medicine was.

“How amazing… it worked this quickly.”

Arleaf chimes in, her voice filled with joy.

“The antidotal properties of the medicine you mixed up is enough to neutralize it. Well, make it safe enough to consume in small amounts at least. You should hurry and give some to Arleaf’s mom as well. We can eradicate this village of Bloodflower.” “By the by, thou shall gain a fair amount of experience just by being near someone who is cured by thy medicine. Furthermore, the medicine is effective against similar diseases.”

I ignore Veno’s good-for-nothing comments. Luckily, only Muu and I can hear him. Let’s see… we’ve also got to eradicate this epidemic. Else Veno’s worst case scenario might become a reality.

I had Arleaf’s mom take some of the medicine her husband and I made, and she quickly recovers too. It took some potions and healing magic to compensate for her depleted stamina, but she’s fit to be out and about by tomorrow morning. The next morning, the medicine made with Veno’s instructions was distributed amongst the villagers. And as expected, Bloodflower no longer plagues the village. For the next few days, I took on the role of apothecary and supervised the production of this cure.

It goes without saying, but everyone in this village and the next village over knows my name. They’ve all been impacted by the epidemic and all have gone through rough times. Desperate for a cure, people from nearby villages come to purchase medicine. Well, the ones afflicted by Bloodflower hoping to find an easy cure do so. Adventurers have returned as well, bringing their liveliness back to this village.

“Oh, Cohgray. You goin’ out?”

The proprietress was previously bound to her bed but now seems to feel much better. She suddenly calls out to me as I walk past the reception desk. Her bag-of-bones figure is a thing of the past. In a mere few days, she’s back to a healthy look for her size. Apparently, her other illnesses had complicated, but after a few trips to the apothecary, it seems like she’s fully recovered.

As a result of her vitality returning… all the fat she’s lost had resurfaced. Or something like that. However it may be, that sickly appearance is no more. I’ve even seen her borrows Muu’s axe to split firewood. They say she was a pretty famous adventurer back in the day.

“Yeah, the apothecary has just called me over.” “That right? Yer givin’ it all every day, aren’tcha? Well, this is all thanks to you anyway. Ain’t that right, Muu-Muu?” “Mu!”

I’m glad she’s so bright and energetic now, but I wish she’d stop grinning at me all the time.

“Hey, why don’t I introduce ya to my niece? She’s a sweetheart.” ‘She is attempting to coerce thee into a marriage. Avoid it.’ “Oh, uhh, I’m flattered. Really. But I haven’t really haven’t given that kind of thing much thought yet.” “That right? Cohgray, yer about that age, aren’tcha? Might be a good time for you to settle down.”

Ah, jeez. She’s changed classes from Invalid to Nosy Auntie. She may be letting me stay for cheap, but damn. Time to bust out a secret ancient Japanese technique—the ol’ vague non-answer.

“I-I’ll think about it.”

It’s a roundabout way to reject her offer, but I wonder if it works in this world.

“Heh heh.”

Ah, crap. She laughed. Gah… what should I do?

‘”I do not have the time of day for your niece!” would have been acceptable, I believe.’

Yeah, acceptable for picking a fight!

“Sorry for holdin’ you up. Take care out there. You too, Muu-Muu.”

The proprietress thoughtfully sends us off.

“Mu!” “Right. I’ll be back.”

With that, we leave the inn for the apothecary.

“Oh, Yukihisa!” Arleaf greets me in front of her family’s shop.

“You’ve made it, eh, Cohgray?”

The doctor calls my name with an annoyed look on his face.

“How is progress, doctor? Not just with the village… the whole thing.” “It’s tapering off. Surely you know too.” “Well, yeah…”

He lets out a heavy sigh.

“Now then… it’s time we discuss payment.”

previously: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /ch016/ /ch017/ /ch018/ /ch019/ /ch020/ /ch021/ /ch022/ /ch023/ /next/ (full list of translated chapters) (discussion thread on Novel Updates) (please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

#Poison-Wielding Fugitive #PWF #Average Translations #AvgTL #osm #毒使いの逃亡者 #一般の英訳 #light novel #ln #aneko yusagi #アネコユサギ

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