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nokingsonlyfooles · 2 years ago

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Here's some more of Brigitte Empire, a columnist from the Telegraph who is fleeing Britain and could use your clicks, attention and donations! Today, she's talking about cis anxiety and what makes a slur a slur.

So today I'm talking about false equivalency and how the inability to make allowances for an imbalance of power ultimately perpetuates systemic injustice!

The AP walked it back (only by removing "the French"!!) but you've probably seen this floating around:

Conservative media outlets are loving it. Yet another example of "woke" culture gone mad! But being "woke" means not operating in passive mode and making dumb decisions that don't actually do anything to tackle systemic issues. So what's really going on here?

The Machine that Dispenses Justice is a neoliberal fantasy.

It predates the foundation of the US, but the Founding Fathers were certainly trying to build one... and they failed miserably.

Still waiting...

The concept is deceptively simple. We fragile, mortal humans, who exist across a spectrum of greys, can put together a system of laws and enforcement that produces justice every time, in black and white. Even if the people implementing our system of justice are a bunch of self-serving devils, we'll constrain them to following the rules so their only option is to be fair. In order to do so, first and foremost, everyone must be equal before the law.

On paper, a Black woman murdered by the police gets the same protection as a white woman murdered by the police, and therefore -no matter how differently each case is resolved in the real world! - we can say justice has been dispensed fairly. It's as if you sent both of your children off to school with the exact same bagged lunch. If one child comes home hungry, you can show them exactly what went into their lunch, what their nutritional needs should be, and why they should not be hungry.

"But, Justice," the hungry child might say, "when I try to eat my lunch, a gang of bullies takes it away and stomps on it, and they don't do that to my sister."

"Well, if someone stole your sister's lunch, she'd be hungry too. That's why she doesn't let them."

"But, Justice, they don't try. I have glasses and braces and I'm small and she's not."

"I'm sorry, but if you want extra lunch, I have to give you both extra lunch. Otherwise it just wouldn't be fair!"

Have you seen some version of this image with the kids on boxes?

The situation we're dealing with is: the tall kid makes the rules, he can already see over the fence, and it makes him super uncomfortable that someone might take one of his boxes away, so he yells down, "I don't see a fence! There is no fence! Problem solved!" Meanwhile, the short kid in the hole can't even get to a polling place to vote the tall one out of office.

It's terribly inconvenient for conservatives and "moderates," but Martin Luther King didn't just cough up that quote about hoping one day society will stop seeing race and then croak.

“A society that has done something special against the Negro for hundreds of years must now do something special for him, in order to equip him to compete on a just and equal basis.” — Martin Luther King Jr.

We do know dispensing Justice requires us to actually dismantle the fence. That information is lying around, free for anyone to pick it up and hold it in their brains. It's just much easier to shut our eyes, stick our fingers in our ears and say we've already dismantled it. We had a Black President and everything! Please, ignore the fact that he was born with boxes strapped to his feet and Republicans inexplicably tried to build the fence higher to prevent him from accomplishing what was essentially a conservative agenda. That doesn't matter! The fence isn't real!

The neoliberal fantasy creates a tautology, a rhetorical snake eating its own tail. If we want to get to a place where we're all equal, we gotta treat everyone equally right now. Equality under the law means reducing everybody to one contextless unit of humanity whose actions take place in a vacuum. There is no fence, there is no height disparity, there's just one kid trying to take boxes that don't belong to him. That's just as wrong as any kid taking something that doesn't belong to him. Equity becomes an impediment to Justice instead of a desirable (necessary!) step along the way. It is legally impossible to do something special to fix special harm, because that's not fair.

Thus, we have the AP trying to level the linguistic playing field, while wilfully hallucinating a total lack of fence. "Hmm, we need a new gear for the Machine that Dispenses Justice. It must be as simple as possible and treat everyone equally. Well, then we certainly can't say anything about being careful not to dehumanize the marginalized - that would create two classes of people, each of which has a different interaction with the gear. Creating unfair class structures is wrong!"

(Well, now I'm hearing this in her voice, so I'm going to inflict that on you too.)

"Hmm, what if we try using 'person first' language?"

(Says Yellow.)

"That's a simple rule that can be applied to everyone the same! I think we can agree 'the rich' are being just as dehumanized as 'the poor' when we don't call them people first!"

"You guys, I appreciate that you're all 'still a bit of a Nazi, but working on it,' but could you work on it someplace else? My house is not your 'holding space'!"

When cis people cry and scream about "cis" being a slur, they are buying into that same fantasy. They are refusing to see the height disparity or the fence. A "slur," if we must ignore the imbalance of power, is just a word that hurts. It's the same as calling someone "shithead" or "asshole" - I can tell by your language that you intend to cause pain, and that is wrong no matter who does it!

(Says Blue.)

"Cis" can be used (and, I will admit, not always fairly!) to shut someone down who is using the oxygen in the room to express their ignorant opinions. "You do not understand why trans people don't feel safe on your platform, Elon, because you are cis." B-but poor Elon built his whole identity and his brand around being the smartest guy in the room who knows everything. He can't be ignorant because of some aspect of his identity that he didn't choose and can't change. That hurts!

It doesn't hurt the same as when a Black woman hears someone call her the n-word on the subway, and suddenly doesn't know if that person is going to follow her off the train and harm her before she gets home. But Elon has no personal experiences like that to compare (because he's rich and white, and I'm assuming he doesn't like to hear those words in a negative context either).

Violence, and threats of violence, certainly do cause discomfort, but not all discomfort is violence (and not all violence is unjustified). If you'll recall my earlier post about the Right appropriating the language of the Left, zooming out too far is a way of corrupting the definition of a word, so it can't be used to call out bad behaviour. I feel uncomfortable when I have to break off singing along with Freddie Mercury for one lyric of "The March of the Black Queen," but a Black stranger hearing me belt out "a little n-word sugar" would feel unsafe. I see the fence, I acknowledge the height disparity (I'm not darker than a paper bag and I never will be), and I close my damn mouth.

Gatekeeping of marginalized spaces is a problem - and the Right will take advantage of it to get us to take each other out, so we do need to address it - but it's not on the same level as casual use of slurs. And "cis" without context, is neutral. Much like "the poor" you have to make a value judgment of what is being said before you call the language dehumanizing or unfair.

(It's a rainbow unicorn because it doesn't exist! It's not real!)

Human values evolve and change, they can be wrong, they're not always fair, and they cannot be bolted into a machine like a solid object. "Justice" is not a solid object, it's a human concept. A machine cannot crap out justice in the absence of human mercy and understanding. When we feed the actions of a human being into a machine without mercy or understanding, it can't crap out anything other than bullshit.

Value judgments are messy and imperfect, but they can be made. It's not wrong to think critically about a situation and adjust your response. If you're a human being with a human brain, you know trans people are not on top socially, and "cis" cannot be a threat in this context. You are then free to engage with it in a more nuanced way, instead of knee-jerking to the existence of a word that has meant the opposite of "trans" since Roman times. Is anyone being harmed? What's the nature of the harm? Who, if anyone, is being inconvenienced, and who, if anyone, is being threatened? Why?

The fence is real, and the height disparity is real. We can't fix it if we pretend it's not. Trying to build a rainbow unicorn is ultimately pointless and detrimental. You have to listen, and you need to look at where the words are coming from, and what effect they have. And if you screw up anyway, you apologize and try to do better. It's not perfect, but it doesn't have to be perfect. "Perfect" is the enemy of "better."

So kick the unicorn to the curb, and never stop using your brain. The fence isn't just going to go away. We have to take it apart. Every damn time.

"And that's why being an all-loving hero is freaking exhausting, folks!"

[Fore more like this, like and reblog. I am paying attention and trying to pick topics of mutual interest!]

#language #justice #fairness #cis people #brigitte empire #steven universe metaphors for politics #shared neoliberal delusions #long post #Youtube

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celestialsaturn · 4 years ago

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🌃The Descendant:🌃

The Astrology of attraction pt.1:

What aspects and placements should we look at in order to find our soulmate?

Our journey begins ironically, at the end.

The descendant:

Your descendant symbolises what you innately desire when it comes to romantic relationships, what provides balance. If you’re curious as to see what you or your crush’s type might be, this is the post for you 😃😋

Note: The descendant symbolises what you need rather than what you might think you want. It’s about bridging the gap. Keep this in mind.

Aries descendant/Libra ascendant:

🐛You watch as the scales tip precariously, hurriedly throwing away the few remaining pieces of yourself that you’ve been saving in your pocket, in efforts to maintain your version of equilibrium, it’s only upon looking down from the oppressive structure of your own design do you realise that they’ve been there all along, catching all of the parts you deemed unworthy like precious snowflakes. The scales are balanced now and somehow they’re in your favour.

🦋You might get caught up in the taxing motions of trying to please everyone around you, constantly putting everyone else’s needs and opinions above your own. Therefore, You might be attracted to those who are loud and outspoken, who easily stand up for those they love and what they are passionate about. They have no problem rocking the boat and setting clear boundaries.

🐛There is something about the fire burning behind their eyes that draws you in. Their rebellious streak, crooked smirk and carefree attitude is awe worthy.

🦋To conclude: you might be attracted to Feisty, bold and active go-getters who inspire you to stop putting your value in the hands of others, and start living for yourself.

Taurus Descendant Scorpio Ascendant:

🕷Being an iconic, independent femme-fatale is a tiring job, it’s hard having everyone fall to your feet,, doesn’t make walking any easier to say the least. But as you push aside the amorphous mass of admirers , you realise that though you’ve built a wall around you, you want someone that’s willing to break it down brick by brick to see the real you.

🕸You are highly receptive and intuitive and this is what causes you to be quite guarded, as you know most don’t have the best intentions. Therefore, you are attracted to the trustworthy, reliable and kind.

🕷Soft teddy bears who are your anchor when you start drowning in a sea of assumptions and jumped-to conclusions. They bring you back to shore carrying you upon their dependable shoulders as dependable people do, and revive you with a fresh breath of reality.

🕸Just overall, you want a genuine person with the kindest eyes who you can call in the middle of the night when it all gets too much, so they can lull you back to sleep with soothing reassurance and solid advice.

Gemini Descendant Sagittarius Ascendant:

🐁As you flit your eyes over the crowd, you begin to realise you’re searching for something, something deeper than hollow small talk and stale jokes on a strangers couch, at a party you have no business being at. You stare intently into the sea of friends and acquaintances but none of the faces register, nothing holds meaning here, you want more.

🐀You need someone to answer the millions of questions that you mull over at night, and even if they can’t they’ll still take the dive with you exploring the depths of the universe, whilst holding your hand 🤢.

🐁You need someone who is open minded, someone who is willing to believe in just about anything because,,, well, why not??? Who are we to pretend that we have all the answers? Someone who gets your weird and some might even say,,,untimely jokes but they get it, that’s how we deal with life around here— with laughter.

🐀In conclusion: you just want an intelligent free spirited soul with your love for travel and learning. Who doesn’t try to tie you down, who would rather embark on all of your journeys with you, and proves that love can truly be expansive and engulfing at the same time.

Cancer Descendant Capricorn Ascendant:

🌑You gaze out the ceiling to floor windows of one of the hundred skyscrapers in the city, so strikingly dull it hurts. You’re working late again, you can hear the monotonous murmur of your coworkers futile attempts to bring you back to speed about the riveting second quarter budget, but your eyes have once again locked upon the moon it always seems to call out to you and who are you to dare look away.

🌕You need someone willing to sand down your edges with their gentle and nurturing spirit. Someone that recognises all that you do to be a reliable and hard working individual, but simultaneously makes you realise you’re so much more than that. You’re so much more than the well polished awards on your mantle, you’re so much more than you let yourself believe.

🌑Someone that forces you to stop and smell the roses, someone that creates an environment in which you feel so safe that vulnerability actually seems possible. And when you do finally open up, surprise surprise,,, they don’t sneer in disgust and tell you to cut the pity party. They allow you to feel, they show you that being in touch with your emotions and even acting upon them doesn’t make you weak, rather it strengthens your heart.

🌕In conclusion: you desire a soft and empathetic individual, that gives you a whole new perspective on life, and teaches you that you don’t have to go out of your way to earn their love, they will forever accept you as you are. Their love flows through you unconditionally, you are at ease now.

Leo Descendant Aquarius Ascendant:

🌱You’re afraid, you’re scared that they won’t understand, that your impassioned speeches will fall upon the ears of the ignorant, you worry that you’ll lose yourself to the herd mentality. You sense that you’re the only one on this planet with some sense of individuality and genuine compassion. Yet for the first time in your life Aquarius, you’ve been proven wrong. You watch as they make slow but sure steps up to the podium, their eyes are warm and set a glow with passion, their arms outstretched to the crowd drawing them in, and as they speak you begin to realise, you’re not alone.

🌻What else can you say? You’re a sucker for the dramatics. You admire their bold and brazen confidence. The way charm just seems to drip off of them, with every hair flick and radiant smile flashed you’re only human after all, even though you hate to admit it you can’t help but to fall for them.

🌱People that recognise the genius in you, people who see the method to your madness, people who take the time to listen to you string together your plans for the future and encourage you to put all of your innovative ideas to action. People who never give up on you. People who have faith.

🌻You are in awe of how they are so unapologetically themselves. You see yourself in their eyes. Two unique individuals both equipped with a strong sense of self, ready to take on the world as the ultimate power couple.

Virgo Descendant Pisces Ascendant:

🚣🏽‍♀️ As night falls the waves get angrier, crashing against the little rowboat, you don’t know how you managed to get here. Your mind procures a crack of lightening and clap of thunder just to add to the ambiance. It’s worse knowing that you can’t even seek solace in daydreams. You’ve been out at sea for quite some time, watching the days go by, but this night it’s different, you see a beam of light cut through the suffocating fog, they’ve come to guide you home.

🌊 You admire their neatly filed papers and freshly sharpened pencils. You like how it contrasts your paint stained hands and brushes strewn across the floor. You like that they always have a plan, you like that they’ve put so much thought into the details you forgot even existed. You find their nagging endearing, it anchors you from floating off into reverie as you like to do. They show you that the real world isn’t that bad after all.

🚣🏽‍♀️ When it all seems hopeless, and there’s nothing left to do but simply wallow in despair, they arrive with tissues and solutions. They listen attentively to all that you have to say. They make sense of the jumbled thoughts in your head carefully laying them out in order as they spill out of your mouth. They understand.

🌊Someone that provides structure and stability without trying to dilute your personality. Someone who would much rather dive in and get to know you for you.

Libra Descendant Aries Ascendant:

👹You drag your sword along the smooth marble of the palace floor trying your best to ignore the images of the battlefield you created,- standing tall amongst the defeated as the lone Victor. You look up to see them waiting for you as the always do, bandages in hand. As they nurse your wounds they observe you stifle a pained wince, and they remind you gently that the war is over now, you can let your guard down. The sword drops to the floor with an echoing clang, you are safe.

👼 You May have a one track mind and whilst that is admirable in a way, it can be stifling for others as you may fail to take into consideration the fact that humans are social creatures dependent on one another for survival. You need someone that gives you a new perspective on life, showing you the value in diplomacy and taking the time to understand all angles of a situation before making an absolute conclusion.

👹You’re attracted to kind, social individuals who charm you with their soft smiles and knowing eyes. The embodiment of grace and poise. They shock you with the way they elegantly waltz through confrontation and debates, remaining objective and calm. You learn from them.

👼 You will attract people who focus on the value of partnership, who strive to seek harmony and balance in every aspect of their lives. They adjust your lens on life to focus on more than just the bubble of defense you have created for yourself. You might be attracted to the whole “beauty with brains” type.

Scorpio Descendant Taurus Ascendant:

🌹You stand unwavering, rooted in the foundation you carefully handcrafted like a solid oak tree with gleaming branches and leaves of gold that grows steadfast through the years. A raven perches upon you whispering the secrets of the universe in a foreign tongue that reverberates through your soul, you begin to feel as though time has lost all meaning, and the seasons pass by in a blur, you emerge transformed. Burgeoning into an evolved sense of self.

🥀You are attracted to people with an alluring aura who you can tell have a red hot intensity simmering underneath their cool exterior.

🌹You are enamoured by the concept of a love that completely immerses you. They are a heady concoction of an individual that embodies loyalty and devotion, who takes the time to prod beneath your surface and understand the essence of your being.

🥀Note: You might attract individuals who seem broken, you might even have broken bird syndrome, eager to “fix” your partner. This can be very taxing, so maintain clear boundaries, and understand that you can’t change everyone.

Sagittarius Descendant Gemini Ascendant:

🥚 You are so aware of your surroundings, it sometimes feels as though you’re on the outside looking in staring through the window at the ongoing house party eyes glazed over, your mind is off journeying through the foreign lands you’ve only ever read about. However your body is very much present going through the motions of social niceties for a brief moment you lock eyes with them, you recognise the look on their face, it mirrors yours.

🐓You’re attracted to deep and philosophical individuals with restless spirits. You both share a love for knowledge, however they amaze you with their passionate stances. They are so attached to all that they learn, as though the process of encoding, storage and retrieval of information, takes place in the heart. It’s foreign to you but that’s why you like it.

🥚You have so much love to give even if you don’t know it, you attract partners who let you tap into that Jupiter-Esque energy. What is life, if not to give wholeheartedly.

🐓 They bring out the wanderer in you, they tell you to turn your thoughts into actions, allowing you to transform that mercurial energy you’ve pent up all this while.

Capricorn Descendant Cancer Ascendant:

🍇You feel like the tides, ensnared by the power of the moon, shifting from one partner to the other, dancing was never your thing. Yet that all seemed to change as you are spun into their arms. Their arms hold you firmly, guiding you through the steps, you flow together seamlessly and you can’t help but to gaze in amazement at the quiet confidence that seeps out from between their self assured movements. You are home.

🍷 You are attracted to ambitious individuals. You are drawn to their stoic faces and freshly pressed button up shirts. The way they hold themselves with utmost composure, the allure of the way you can never tell what’s going on inside their head.

🍇 Someone you can look to as your rock, even as your moods shift tumultuously throughout the day, they remain steadfast at your side.

🍷 You want someone to start a family with. Someone who can build a home with you that’s worth never leaving. Laid up together amongst the memories you’ve created, at peace.

Aquarius Descendant Leo Ascendant:

🕺You are the Sun. A life force. People gather in awe to watch the daily occurrence of you set and rise. Adoration comes naturally but, so does fear. People avoid your direct gaze, shading themselves when you seem to come off too strong. Only knowing how to admire from a distance. But Aquarius is different, their stare bores into you, analysing your every move, you’ve never felt more vulnerable. You’ve never felt more connected. You like it.

💃You are attracted to i n t e l l e c t u a l s 🥴. They appear indifferent upon the surface, a stark contrast to your animated disposition. But their passion runs as deep as yours. They have a unique perspective on life, and are fuelled by the genuine desire to give back to their community. You can’t help but be in awe of their creativity and innovative ideas .

🕺Speaking of genuineness, this is something that is so important to you. You are hyper aware of the fact that most people do things to be perceived a certain a way. Is it because you do the same thing, Leo? Because of this, you see right through the facades that people put up, and are in search of something something real. It’s not enough for someone to just seem kind, they have to have the innate desire to help others, regardless of the prospect of acknowledgement.

💃In closing, your type could be someone who is intelligent, passionate and understanding. Someone who is open minded and tolerant. They might appear emotionally indifferent, but you understand that. Y’all are just two lions, leaders of the pride, looking down from your shared fortress at the masses. Aloof, and in love lmaooo.

Pisces Descendant Virgo Ascendant:

🌧You watch enchanted, as their brush embraces the canvas, with every stroke ;) they slowly but surely create an escape for the both of you, your own universe where the shackles of reality have lost their hold. They take your hand and together you step into the watercolor paradise, a stark contrast from the harsh angles and hostile frigidity of this plane of existence. A love only found in daydreams.

🌈You are attracted to dreamy artistic types. People who are in tune with their emotions and who allow themselves to express their inner artist in every day circumstances.

🌧You have gotten so accustomed to living in the present trying to overcome obstacles and achieve your goals, you might not stop to realise you’re tired. Pisces soothes the tension you’ve been holding for so long. They understand how you feel without you even having to say a word. Despite the fact that they might look like they’re off in their own dream world, when they love they form a connection so strong that it’s as if they can read your mind.

🌈You strive for perfection, and they show you the beauty that lies underneath the covers of an unmade bed, or between the hours of a day spent doing absolutely nothing. They wish that you could see yourself through their eyes, reminding you everyday, that you’re nothing short of perfect.

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selinakidreams · 4 years ago

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hello!! this is my first ever collab and man o man am I happy to be participating in @buttershouse ‘s Magic March with so many talented people!! Please go check out everyone’s work, there’s so many delicious pieces to choose from.

without further a-due, please enjoy this 7k word mash of a magic coffee shop/witch/ college au that I have goin here

pairing: Sero Hanta (with a FUCKIN UNDERCUT !) x gn!reader (afab)

warnings: she’s WHOLESOME, implied sexual themes throughout and then actual smut at the end !! , sex on aphrodisiacs

a/n: thank you so so so so so so so much to @keishinslove @hiddenbluee @spikesbimbo @scorpiomoonslutt and @dymphnasprose for reading and beta-ing this big boi- you guys helped me so much and 🥺🥺 you guys seriously mean the world to me.

tag list: @hiddenbluee @undersero @sawam0chi

“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” you hum as you steep black tea before shifting to the other part of your station so you could add the guise of vanilla to the milk you were about to steam.

You hear a snort come from your coworker as she looks over to you before smirking, “You think you’re so funny,” she teases while heating up a chocolate muffin for the current order.

“I do, I really do,” you muse, holding the metal pitcher up to the espresso machine’s steam wand. The distinct smell of the liquid luck wafts around as you begin blending it in with the milk; it makes you smile, a comfortingly warm feeling washing over you.

You always hoped people stepped into the shop hearing about the rumors and whole-heartedly believed them; believing in the magic that went into each drink when they ordered something off of the special menus- and that it wasn’t just for the unique taste.

When you first started out, you often heard that with each new employee, the magical feeling tends to die out sooner or later; the happiness of creating spells and potions for others fleeting with the ever-growing pessimism towards all things unexplainable. After working at the shop for three years, one would think the feeling would have caught up to you, instead you felt anything but. With each new regular whose eyes sparkled with excitement as you handed them their unique concoction of a drink, your smile grew wider. Sometimes the familiar faces would come back and whisper about how each drink gave them the right energy to deal with each individual situation… almost like magic. You could do nothing but smile, sometimes a coy little wink was added, exciting the customer more and more. They'd leave with a newfound pep in their step. That's what has kept you going for so long. All anyone ever has to do was keep an open mind and believe that true magic does exist, and when you do, it's almost as though a door opens up, full of delightful possibilities.

As you called out the finished order and thanked the satisfied customer, the shop’s entrance bell chimed, welcoming in the newest one.

You look up and made eye contact with someone who seemed oddly familiar; you tend to remember almost every person that has shown up more than twice at the cafe, so the fact that you can't fully recognize him only shows that the cafe couldn't have been where you’ve known him from... You couldn't quite put your finger on where you've seen him before but you definitely couldn't forget the welcoming aura he radiated. With his black hair pulled into a ponytail, exposing his undercut, and his extra large t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame, he flashed a bright smile, heading up to the counter to order.

Accustomed to ‘hey’s, ‘hi’s, or even an immediate order, the first thing out of his mouth somewhat surprised you. With a tilt of the head and a squint of the eyes, he mumbled out, “.. You look really familiar.” as he tried to place the face.

“You know, I was thinking the same thing...” you trailed off.

After a few seconds of analysis with no conclusion, he seemed to shrug and let out a little chuckle with a passive “it'll probably come to me in the middle of my next class…” before his eyes caught sight of the menus off to the side. Not wanting to make it too obvious that you were tempted to stare, you aimed your gaze elsewhere, only occasionally sneaking a glance at him while he was preoccupied with the menu.

“Ahh… can I get…” he kept his sights on all the options he could, as if it was going to make him any more decisive. Part of you hoped to hear something special, something magical, only to hear, “uhh a… hot latte please?”

While a very solid drink, you subconsciously waited to hear a flavor come after it; staring at him, almost in a daze.

“Did I forget something...?” Your eyes grew wide, mind blank, trying to come up with an excuse for the elongated silence but before you could spout something out, his smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “Oh, duh, I forgot the size!” A breathy laugh came after his revelation and your chest felt lighter once the sound hit your ears. “Could I get a large please?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” you chime as you grab a large paper cup and mark down his order with a sharpie.“Will that be all for you today?” looking back up at him, your customer service smile makes its awaited appearance like clockwork as it did when wrapping up every order. His eyes darted to the full pastry case before he could conclude, causing an actual smile to grace your lips, “Tempted?”

“One way or another, yea,” he said with an undertone of something else being implied, causing your cheeks to heat up. The smile that he threw in there further caused a little flutter of your heart.

“Well luckily for you, we just restocked, so you've got a wide range of goodies to choose from.”

He licked his bottom lip and smoothly responded with, “Well which is your favorite?”

“My favorite? Hmm… Well, I always love a good chocolate croissant whenever I'm drinking regular lattes. The chocolate adds in that kick of sweetness that compliments the lack thereof with the coffee and bonus, it's not too heavy where it will make you feel bloated.``

“You really know how to sell a guy… That sounds amazing. Could I have that, please?” the tone in his voice was playful, fun, possibly flirty- and that was something that you were not going to think about. He’s a customer; he might not come back when he wants his next cup of coffee.

“You want me to warm it up for you?”

“Sure!”

Picking up the prongs, you took the freshest croissant from the batch and placed it in the microwave oven, turning back around.

You voiced his total with a soft smile, “Cash or card?”

“Card. uh .. Can I leave a tip on here?”

Cue the airy sigh that left your chest. A man who knows to leave a tip: you were in love with him already.

“Yea!” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Yea, once you remove your card, the option should pop up on the screen!”

You throw one more smile back at him before turning around to start his drink, not missing the incredibly hard stare your coworker was giving you. You try not to look at them throughout the duration of making his drink.

Handing the handsome man his order, your hands lightly brushed against his and you fought hard to ignore the hefty thump in your chest. You looked back up at him and swore that there was a tint of rose dusted across his cheeks.

You saw the beginning of his outburst before you could hear it.

“Sero!” he said quickly, “Sero Hanta. That’s my name.”

You smiled, sticking out your hand and saying your name, “I’ll be sure to remember it… Sero.”

The rest of the shift went by pretty quick after that. Your coworker couldn't keep their mouth shut about how he was flirting with you and how you just so happened to be flirting back. You two were giggling so much that the rest of the shift just seemed to slip away and before you know it, it was time to clock out.

“Is there anything you want me to do before I head out?” you shout, asking the newly present night shift as you’re halfway out the door.

“No no, we got it,” both your coworkers chime, “just hurry up and get to class!” one of them adds.

Rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye, double checking that everything needed for class was in your bag before fully lugging one of the straps onto your shoulder and heading off.

The walk wasn't that far from the shop, luckily- taking your time and enjoying the world around you was such a cooldown from the hustle and bustle of your work shifts.

The college town was quaint, warm, homely; It felt like everywhere was a short walk away- which it was. There was an ample amount of time for you to stroll to class after one of your shifts.

As you peruse down the street, you took note of how bright it felt this time of day and how soft the glow emanating from the sunlight hitting the trees was; the kiss of the sun heated your skin, allowing you to bask in the warmth of everything: the environment, the vibe, the mood. What a great feeling.

Random thoughts passed in and out of your brain as you got to the entrance of campus- but the continuous train of thought halted at the station when the image of that man who came into the shop, the one with the undercut- Sero Hanta, popped up.

He was really attractive… where had you seen him before?

You mindlessly head towards the lecture hall, with the image of Sero’s face ever present behind your eyelids. The approaching building was a beautiful brick with ivy climbing up the side, a framed golden plaque near the large double doors announced that people were about to enter the Mirai Sasaki building- something you would normally stop to admire but today, you headed straight inside and towards your seat, still mentally preoccupied.

Plopping down, you situate yourself, getting everything out; your textbook, notebook, pens, pencils and even a highlighter. You take a deep breath before slightly shaking your mind to wake up and concentrate on the human sexuality lecture that was about to start. Sero Hanta can wait.

Is what you told yourself and yet, the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone. It went so far as even hearing the professor call out his name.

“So, I just wanted to clarify,” your ears perk up at the voice, “The article you gave us was about how unequal the orgasm ratio- the orgasm gap- is for women… but I feel like there is a new wave of um… feminine orgasm appreciation. Not to get too personal, but I know between my friends and I, we make sure that our partners always come… first.” He trailed off at the last part, probably coming to terms with the awkward phrasing he had ended with.

You had to take a second to get a grip; too many things were happening at once and the one that held most of your attention was the fact that Sero Hanta blatantly admitted to wanting the girl to orgasm first.

What a gentleman.

“Thank you for your… input … mister Sero- but with what you pointed out, it’s actually a perfect segway into the first project of the semester! If you notice in your syllabus, I typed a very vague title for the next class’s date. We're going to talk about it more next class but until then, please read the assigned articles by the next class and have a good rest of your day!”

While the majority of the class was packed and headed to the door, your eyes stayed glued on Sero as you mindlessly put things away. It seemed as though he was taking his time as well. Maybe he needed to talk to the professor?

Seeing that your desk was now cleared, you slowly began descending down the stairs to get to the floor level, eyes glued to each step in front of you, mind somewhere completely different until your head is met with a firm back. With wide eyes, you step back and begin a stream of apologies, head bowed and eyes still on the floor as if you didn’t learn your lesson the first time. A warm chuckle hushes you accompanied with a light, “It’s alright, it’s alright!”

You look back up and are met with the mind-dizzying smile of the man who failed to leave your thoughts alone.

Before your eyes could get any bigger, he murmurs your name. “So this is where I know you from!” He slightly cheered, lopsided grin growing comfortable.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ 12 oz Time Flies with soy milk, hot; cinnamon orange black tea latte brewed with charmed orange peel to bring back the most nostalgic feelings (add a shot of our very own vanilla -liquid luck- to help Luck stay on your side!)˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“Hey! Hey- you guys aren't closing are you?” You hear a panting voice rush through the door- the complete opposite of the energy the cafe currently held. You and your coworker were just winding down from your shift, cleaning and making sure everything was restocked for the next shift, soft music aiding the mood.

Sero was attempting to collect himself when he realized the two pairs of stunned eyes staring at him.

“I just- I wanted to walk with you to class. If that’s cool,” he said to you, flattening his shirt down, “and maybe get a coffee.”

Warmth fills your face as you try to suppress a smirk, “in that order?”

The already flustered college student blushed just a bit harder. Before he could come up with a response, your smirk eased into a soft smile, “okay Sero, what could I get you to drink?”

He steps further inside and orders the same thing he got the first time: a large hot latte. It doesn't take long until the drink is in his hand and you're shooing him off to a table, “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes, is that alright?” you ask, hints of your customer service mannerisms kicking in. He nods and you get back to cleaning, unaware that your movements became a bit swifter.

After clocking out, you’re met with an eager grin and a glint of something unnameable in sero’s eyes.

“The coffee was excellent, by the way. Both times I had it. Do you do something to it? I feel like it’s so much more than just a simple latte.”

You smile at two things, him opening the door for you, and the fact that he was absolutely oblivious to the fact that his drink is one of the few drinks you don’t add any magical properties to.

“I make it with kindness.” You say as you two start your walk, intertwining your hands behind you.

“So mister Hanta… have you been stalking me?”

His eyes grow wide as his cheeks taint red, “N-no! I just thought that maybe you work every shift that’s before our class.”

“Hmmm… So were you going to come by every day to test out your theory if i wasn't there today?”

“Well, luckily you were there, so I guess we’ll never know the answer.”

After you hummed out a response, the walk turned into a comfortable type of silent.

The both of you had several things passing through your mind, but outwardly, one was caught up basking in the fresh spring air while the other was admiring how the wind would slightly shift your hair.

Deciding to break the silence, you turned to face him, “Hey, so, why did you choose to take human sexuality?”

He didn't seem surprised to hear the question but he took a moment; it didn't seem like he was scrambling to find the perfect answer, it was almost like he just couldn't properly find the words.

“Honestly, I love intimacy. I think its really cool that not one person’s views on sex and sexuality and the miniscule details within it, are the same.”

While the words you were hearing made sense, it must have shown that you weren't prepared for such an insightful answer because he let out a hearty laugh that seemed to go on and on, even after he took a deep inhale.

“I’m sorry-” he choked out as he grabbed his chest, “your face just-” he gulped another breath of air, trying to regain composure.

Throughout his fit of laughter, you almost joined in a few times if it weren’t for you biting your cheek in attempts to keep the annoyed facade up.

As soon as it seemed like he got it all out, you try to pull a convincing pout.

“So what's the real answer, then?”

He cocks his head at your question, a smile still playing on his lips, “whaddya mean?”

“You're telling me that what you said wasn't just to catch me off guard?”

“Oh! No no, that's really why I'm taking the class. But i bet you thought i was going to say something asshole-y like ‘i just wanna learn more about sex so i could be better’, hm?” he said the last part in a dopey voice before smirking back at you.

You rolled your eyes in return, “not necessarily, that was just a really… refreshing… answer.”

By the time you got to class, it seemed pretty full, which was a bit odd seeing as though there was still some time before the lecture started. Part of you was hoping that you could snag a seat next to Sero or he could snag a seat next to you- but both of your usual seats were surrounded by others already. There was also always the possibility that maybe he didn't want to sit next to you; you didn't want to get your hopes up so you turned to him, waved goodbye, and headed to your normal seat. Unbenounced to you, he physically slouched in disappointment before heading to his spot.

The lesson went on, and while he wasn't crowding your mind today, you subconsciously kept stealing glances at him throughout the lecture in hopes that one of the times you'll find him glancing back at you. The only time you did catch him staring at you was with wide eyes when the professor announced that you two were going to be partners for the upcoming project.

“So I guess this means it's an appropriate time to ask for your number… I wanted to ask you for it but I didn't want to move too fast…?” he said as you two approached eachother after class, cracking a shy smile while he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck, a subltle flex of his muscles on display. It was a bit hard to concentrate with a combo move like that attacking you, as if he was going in for the kill.

“I wouldn't have thought it was too fast.” you softly counter, flashing him a tender smile.

It was one thing to feel the heat go to your face, it's another to visibly see it appear on his.

You both traded phones at the same time with the promise to text each other later that night; you put a little coffee emoji by his name while he put the sun next to yours.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚20 oz The Charismatic ! with hemp milk, iced; freshly brewed jasmine tea with a shot of our very own vanilla (liquid luck) to help your attitude and chances toward any situation˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Sitting at the furthest table away from the register, you start to unpack your laptop and make yourself comfortable- you're gonna be here a while. Powering up the device, Hanta pulls at the seat across from you and begins to mimic your movements.

“So you want our first project meeting… at a coffee shop?” you start, trying to keep the smile from coming onto your face. Looking up at him would mean automatic defeat seeing as it's getting harder and harder for you to look at him without your lips twitching upward.

“I thought it would be very symbolic.”

A snort greeted both of your guy’s ears as your eyes went wide and your hands shot up to cover your mouth. “Anyway, so the project.” Blushing around him was starting to become a regular occurrence, as well.

“Right,” he says clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“So the project is to point out common sexual misconceptions and back it up with statistics and research articles. The fact that we got dibs on the misconception of the orgasm gap all because you had bragged about your personal sex life…” the thought alone shot a wave of warmth down your spine and right to your lower region. A flash of a Sero you hadn’t faced yet appeared in your imagination; him looking up at you, hungry and eager to please. It made your breath hitch.

“Well, yea! I had to voice it. I mean, I feel like it’s common sense! When you have sex by yourself, then you can focus on what makes you feel good and what makes you cum. But when you’re with a partner…” he trailed off and your gaze snapped to him, “you should make sure they cum at least once before doing… whatever you two.. had.. planned on… doing.” Sero finished, his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips.

Oh fuck.

You felt yourself throb.

“Y-yea! Uh I completely a-agree.”

It’s almost as though he could tell that you were flustered so just to top it off, he smirked, “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” before deciding to drop it and move on.

He took a sip of his drink and sighed, “You guys really do make the best coffee. I got the same thing as I did with your place and yet… I'm here longing for your coffee.” you snort once again.

After that, the conversation eased into the project and what exactly needed to be done; the assignment was very simple but sorting out what dates you guys were going to meet up and how exactly you were going to go about gathering the information was all crucial. The project was due in a month and needed to be submitted in powerpoint format- which the both of you were relieved about.

It was really cute seeing Hanta’s eyes all lit up when it came to the part of how you two were going to go about getting all the information needed. He even suggested to conduct a little side research if you guys were ahead of schedule. It was something that made your heart patter. It was almost like you had smelt some of the charmed rose petals from work because every time you looked at him, you couldn't stop the warmth that flooded in your chest.

With that thought, there was the fact that he was more than likely going to be spending large amounts of time at the cafe- would he notice? Should you just come straight out and explain it? Explain that you were considered a witch, someone who was open-minded and was in tune with their intuition and can work with certain herbs, charms, and spells to create wonderful things? It didn't seem that big of a deal to you, it was something you had grown up with; simple spells and practices that just made day to day life more simple. Not every witch has been through the same childhood you had, there’s no special school- not that you were aware of, anyway. Your parents kept their grimoire out in the open and let you frolic about as they eased basic wholesome rituals into your life, and when you got old enough, they let you take in chapter by chapter each spell they casted, each potion they brewed.

When you applied at the cafe, your first interview was full of normal questions worded in a way that almost sounded like it had a double meaning, thankfully you caught it and later was asked for a second interview- conducted by the boss himself. He had asked you to perform a basic potion/drink you grew up with, something that made you feel like you were walking on air. It was simple; a butterfly pea tea with a breath of life, with just a little bit of lemon activated the spell in the brew. When the well made drink hit his tongue, he offered you the job not a second later.

No. You wouldn't tell Sero yet. It never came up; It’d be odd to tell him straight off the bat- there's really no need. If he ever asks… then you’ll tell him.

But he hadn't so far.

Each meeting so far felt incredibly productive. It seemed like getting work done came naturally, with the topic being easy to discuss between the two of you and getting the articles to support your claim was fairly simple- apparently a lot of studies have been done about people’s orgasms.

Since drafting up a skeleton outline the first time meeting, the bits and pieces really started coming together, but the get-togethers sometimes didn't go as planned- however, what was a constant was that no matter what the meet-up consisted of, there would always be a paper cup from your work, filled with a hot latte.

Some of the days, rather than working on the project, the two of you would use the allotted time to sit in your cafe and goof off, or sometimes you would host “tea time” in your apartment and talk about anything and everything- and it was okay because very early on, you both gathered all the adequate articles that involved your topic and sifted through them to get the statistics you needed. Collecting the data was simple enough and putting it together just came easy to you.

Looking up from your laptop, finally done with sorting all the cited sources in each slide, you wave your hand at Sero to get his attention. Hanta was working on phrasing the facts and statistics from each work, so when he tilted his head up, gaze still on the screen until he finished typing the last sentence, he took his headphones out and hummed as he looked at you.

“You get the same thing everytime we’re together… why?”

He glanced at his almost empty cup before fully taking out his headphones, “I get it all the time because it really is the best latte I've ever gotten from a cafe before. I tell you this all the time.”

“You never… wanna try anything new?”

“Is there something in particular you want me to try?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow upwards.

“Well no, not necessarily…”

“Well then how about you give me a recommendation? What’s a drink you think I would love?”

This one stumped you for a minute. Though the thought had crossed your mind quite often, you couldn't quite pinpoint which special drink he’d appreciate the most. Something warm… something reflecting how you feel about him.

“I think that you should get the Time Flies; it's this black tea latte with orange zest and it's really… cozy.”

“Okay, I'll try it the next time I go.”

And he did. The first sip he took felt like smooth gold hitting his tongue. So warm and rich that it had apparently induced the vivid image of the sunset from his grandmother’s porch. He was remembering the orange glow of everything the light touched. The whole day, he was feeling incredibly nostalgic, he even did some of the things he used to do when he was a kid, like watch old black and white movies and make dinner with his mom (even if it was through a phone call).

He told you all of this with one of the most handsome smiles you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚16 oz Love Me or Love Me Not with oat milk, hot; our very own pink rose syrup (enchanted candied petals inside and dried petals on top) steamed in the milk meets a double shot of espresso for a deep, sweet, cozy drink˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“So,” you start once everything is situated on your living room table, the two floor pillows that play hosts to your guy’s lower halves sit diagonal from each other.

“So.”

“Everything is practically done, I just wanted to… call this meeting so we could just quickly skim over it and see if there was anything in the powerpoint that needed fixing and or adjusting.”

“Very reasonable reason to call this meeting but both of us have been looking at this practically nonstop… so I’m pretty sure it's good.”

“Well it’s due next class and I know we finished it up a few a couple of days ago but… there is absolutely nothing wrong with striving for perfection. And if anything, I’m trying to save your reputation.” he choked at the accusation you were attempting to make, “Oh yea! How are you going to get away with making that bold statement in front of the class, do a whole project on it, and then just… have it not be anything short of jaw dropping?” you didn't even wait for him to speak, “exactly. Your rep is on the line, I'm just the sorry person who got stuck with you.” You smirk, driving your ludacris point home while crossing your arms over your chest.

Scoffing, he leaned over and lightly shoved you, “we got to choose are partners for this project! You chose to be with me!” his cry caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth as you readjusted yourself onto your pillow, “that's neither here nor there.” you try your best snotty act as you stick your nose up in the air.

“Okay okay then, your grace, let us go over the powerpoint,” he jested along and gave you a slight bow.

After a quick runthrough, everything seemed spick and span, so the two of you became more relaxed and sunk into the larger floor pillows once again.

“So… I noticed that you finally got something from your shop.” Sero gestured over to the other paper cup on the table. “I have never seen you with your own coffee before, why today?”

Your cheeks involuntarily began to heat up; the drink he was referring to was none other than the Love Me or Love Me Not. Usually, you never went out of your way to make it, but for the occasion, it was necessary. It was the last time you guys were going to meet up for the project and you just… had to know.

Let it be known, messing with love potions wasn’t your forte, you preferred for everything romantic to be consensual and untampered with- that's why this brew in particular was one that you preferred out of all the ones that are out there. When made correctly, the person drinking it should be able to look at their crush (in person) and if the crush liked them back, then the drinker would get a fierce wave of goosebumps; if the person did not like them romantically, their head world ache for just a few minutes before going back to normal. Simple and effective, plus no one gets roughed up or drugged.

Not a single sip had been taken yet, you were on edge about the situation. This was the first time you had ever made it for yourself, and it was pretty nerve wracking to see if this man who you began harboring feelings for liked you the same.

It’s surely gone cold by now but that wasn’t going to stop you. “Oh! Uh- I was just really craving this drink today.” You say lamely before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a gulp.

The smell of rose hit your nose before you could register the taste. The evenly sweet syrup paired with the strong espresso danced on your tongue before you swallowed it. You softly sighed, it tasted delicious. Another sip slipped past your lips.

A roll of relief cascaded through you when an intense wave of goosebumps rose on your poked at your skin, causing you to cough and sputter. Eyes going wide and squeezing shut as the coughs wracked through your body.

He likes you.

While coming down from your fit, you semi glance at Hanta who had almost instantly appeared by your side, patting and gently rubbing your back.

“Is there liquor in that?” He joked as he handed you your drink so you could have more liquid to ease your throat.

You shook your head after drinking some more and cracking a grin. It might’ve been too big of a smile for someone who just choked but you didn’t care. Sero Hanta… likes you.

Unable to help it, you glance down at his lips only to realize how close he is. Your grin slowly drops, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can I uh.. can I try your drink?” He says, face red with blush.

As you go to hand him your drink, he leans in and cups your jaw- causing your whole body to still, even your heart stopped to join the languor.

He peaks his tongue out to softly lap up a drop that must have been on your lip, before capturing your lips with his.

It felt like your mind shut down, and all you can feel is how soft his lips are and how sweetly he’s kissing you. Almost hesitantly.

He pulls away in attempts to find your gaze to decipher how you felt about it.

Your breath is ragged as you look back at him- everything and nothing is going on in your head in that moment, unable to speak, until you see the goosebumps that coat his body.

Your heart thumps impossibly faster as you realize that not only does he like you… but he truly believes. He believes in the two of you, he believes in love, and he believes in magic.

Without another second to waste, you tackle him in a hug and find your lips on his in a way that you know you’ll never get enough of.

special extra ! : you and Hanta in the fall- Season of the Witch with almond milk, hot; dirty chai latte with a bewitched cinnamon stick to help keep you warm ;) , even on the coldest of days ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

The cold nips at your nose just as big hands nip at your waist, causing you to let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp. A flash of soft black hair blurred your vision before cold lips meet yours. “Hanta,” you sigh into the kiss before pulling away and giggling.

You were heading back to your apartment after a day shift at work, the sky already becoming darker because of the autumnal equinox.

“What are you doing? I thought I was gonna meet you at my place.” You say as your fingers intertwined and your step fell into pace with his. He pulled you closer so that you were basically leaning into him as you walked.

“You know those chocolate and pumpkin scones you baked for me? The special ones?” He quietly moaned.

Your eyes go wide as he purposely guided your intertwined hands over his blatant bulge.

“Hanta you weren’t supposed to eat those until later, the spell usually kicks in within the next 30 minutes!” You giggle again.

A few weeks after you two started officially dating, you formally sat him down and explained everything you didn't when talking about your guys’ past- the memories of frolicking through tall grass and talking to your mother’s familiar, to getting your job at the cafe. He told you that it was a lot to take in, but never did he push you away. When he went to the cafe, he was more observant. Somewhere in the months between June and July, he slowly became more and more interested in the rituals you would do and the potions you would make. He wanted to start joining in. Now in October, he loves seeing your crystals around your house and all the different herbs you grow in the sills of your window. When he found out that you could bake magical pastries with certain herbs, he almost immediately asked you to bake him some. At first, it started as something simple like a sage and rosemary savory loaf that helped cleanse your pallet of any negative energy. Then it started becoming more and more intricate, and that's how the two of you ended up here.

“I know but fuck-- I was hungry and they looked so good, and now I’m hard and I need you.” he spoke lowly.

This was going to be fun.

The rest of the way, you were casually asking him things that shouldn't be heard in a public setting, “What is it you want to taste first, Hanta?”

“How badly do you want to fuck me into the mattress? Hm? Have your big cock stretch me out?”

“Wanna fill me up?”

By the time you both got to your apartment, there was no fumbling with the keys to get your door to open, you already had them out; getting through the door took three seconds tops. Next thing you know, your back was against the closest wall, your hands pulling at his tied up hair and scraping your nails against his scalp when the soft locks fell. One of his big hands lifted up a leg of yours and he groaned as he thrust upward against your heat.

“Fuck-” he panted into the kiss before trailing down your neck, still holding up one leg while the other hand finds itself under your shirt, his fingers hot to the touch.

Releasing your leg and dropping to his knees, he looked up at you as he fumbled with the button of your pants. You lace your fingers in his hair, feeling him yank the material down your legs, tossing the one leg over your less dominant leg over your shoulder, and when a warm muscle hits your sopping clothed core, you pull his hair harder to apply more pressure.

“Look at me when I have you in my mouth, I wanna see how much you enjoy this.”

You felt yourself clench, and apparently so did he, because a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh, you like when I say things like that?”

“H-hanta, please.. '' your voice wavered before you sucked in a sharp gasp. He had a finger, then two inside of you in no time, the other hand keeping the underwear out of the way so his lips could wrap around your clit.

He was pumping in and out of you faster and faster, occasionally switching the pace to unbearably slow and when you would whine, he’d tilt his head up, mid lick, to throw you a teasing glance before picking up the pace. He bagan curling his fingers, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling and with the pressure building up, it had you panting out a breathy repetitive stream of his name.

“‘M gonna cum Hanta, hh-” you moaned out before clenching your eyes shut, your body involuntarily shaking above him. And right below you, he was ready to lick up everything you had to offer.

Holding you steady as he came up to kiss you, your juices still on his lips, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked when he pulled away. The short sobering moment hit as soon as he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, but after he tossed you onto the bed, the look he gave you as he was unbuttoning his pants drew your mind hazy again.

“Can't wait to pump you full of my cum, to have you a drooling mess because of my cock.” he huskily whispered, giving you so many delicious previews of how the night will go. “You want that, pretty? Use your words.” he said as he crawled over to you and caged you in. The scent of cedar wood and citrus clouded your senses.

“Yes please Hanta!” you whine, “wanna feel stuffed b’cause of your cum. Please fill me up--” you whimper out, cutting yourself off when you felt his leaky tip at your wet entrance.

Just like each time you two have been intimate, he guides himself slowly until he's in to the hilt of his pelvis, “shit, squeezing me so hard- c-an i move?” he moans out.

Unable to form coherent sentences, you frantically nod and squeak out, “yes!”

With your permission granted, he eases in a thrust before he starts snapping his hips into you.

“Fuck, look at you, milking my cock so good-” he moaned, as he leaned in and kissed you. Each sharp thrust jolted you upwards, proving just how powerful his thrusts were. You threw your arms around his neck for the slight stability.

You began to let out little moans into the kiss that spurr him further; everything was beginning to get to him. How tight you felt around him, the feel of your tongue against his, the sloppy wet noises of your cunt.

“I’m gonna cum-- i'm gonna cum!” he choked out.

You clawed at his back while whimpering pleas for him to fill you up, “fill me up with your cum, your cock fills me so good, please Hanta, more- more!”

You were clenching around him hard, and to bring you right to his level, he found your puffy clit and began a quick circular motion that made your jaw go slack, causing more frequent clenches.

His mind blurred as he pushed himself the deepest he could, moaning out your name and a gruff curse before emptying himself into you.

You felt him twitch inside of you right before hot seed coated your already warm walls, and that’s what pushed you into a convulsion of ecstasy.

He lazily humped his hips into you as you rode out your high before pulling out and rolling next to you.

Calling out your name to bring your attention to him, he pulls you into his chest where you could feel his racing heart, “what if… I started singing that song from hocus pocus? You know the one..”

What a goof, you thought to yourself, playfully smacking his chest as you roll your eyes, looking up at him.

“I put a spell on you… and now you're mine…” you begin to whisper, earning a hearty laugh from you boyfriend.

Maybe it was mutual, but quite possibly he had put a spell on you. And you were more than okay with it.

#she dreams !#butter’s house🏡#🪄 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.#sero hanta #sero mha #sero smut #sero hanta smut #mha fanfiction #mha #bnha smut #bnha #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #sero bnha #sero hanta mha #mha smut #smut

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tothemeadow · 4 years ago

Note

I haven't seen much people requesting for snake bby so obanai x demon reader pls?Reader is like a succubus type of demon and when sent on a mission to kill her he falls into her clutches and it ends with smut 👀

‘in my dreams’ / Iguro O. x Reader

PLEASE STOP SLEEPING ON THIS MAN

warnings: NSFW, Obanai is a boob man, dream fucking?

words: 2,793

(a/n): I might’ve gotten carried away a bit

He’s always heard that sharks can smell blood on the water.

He isn’t a stranger to blood himself, used to the sightly images of gore and the rancid odor. It’s simply another part of his hellish life, bearing witness to mutilated remains of bodies and hunting down their killer.

It’s all in a day’s work.

It’s strange, though, when there aren’t any bodies to be found. Rumors of disappearances plague the night, travel from lips to ears, slowly spreading throughout the small town.

Takahashi’s daughter disappeared last night.

The doctor’s oldest son? Haven’t you heard? He’s gone.

For such a large number of people to be suddenly up and vanishing, it’s no wonder concerns have risen. It’s why Obanai’s here in the first place, determined to sniff out the culprit and promptly execute them. He’s dealt with similar cases before – finding the missing persons, only to find their remains or couple of bones – but this time… Well, it’s weird, to say the least. Not one person in this town knows where anybody could be, no strange sightings or feelings, nothing.

And, if Obanai is going to be completely honest, it’s infuriating as hell.

He’s not a patient person in the slightest. Perhaps that’s his curse and the sole reason why this case isn’t going anywhere; still, with the lingering danger hanging over these poor people’s heads, he needs to end this quickly. And so, cooped up in a small room at the town’s inn, he pours over his scribbling of notes, wondering just what kind of force he’s dealing with.

A demon’s nature can vary, depending on what kind you encounter. Obanai’s had his fair share of strange interactions – whether it be demons with multiple arms, pygmies, the facial features of a fly - he's nearly seen at all. But to take victims without leaving a single trace? That's where things get complicated.

"Dammit," Obanai grumbles, dragging a hand over his face. Kaburamaru flicks his tongue in concern, sensing his owner's unease.

This isn't going anywhere. The amount of time or effort spent trying to figure out where everyone has vanished isn't amounting to anything. How could this be? Obanai isn't some low level slayer, for gods' sakes - he's a Pillar. It shouldn't be this hard to put two and two together, yet here he is, staring blankly at his collected information. The idea of sending his crow to summon for help crosses his mind, but he hastily throws away the thought. No, that's not how this is done. He isn't willing to give up so easily.

As the hours drag further into the night, Obanai grows restless, twitchy. His striped haori sits to the side, folded neatly along with the shirt and overcoat of his uniform. Kaburamaru is already fast asleep, coiled into a tight circle at the edge of the futon. The wooden hatches of the window hang open, the night breeze drifting into the room with the sound of a singular solemn cricket.

A long, ornate kiseru dangles between his spindly fingers; it’s a rare occasion whenever Obanai smokes, so much to the point that the ones closest to him don’t even know he possesses such a fine pipe. He takes a slow drag as his he stares up at the moonlit clouds, the chilled breeze whipping the choppy strands of his hair against his bared cheeks. He wonders, truly, just how the hell he’s supposed to get to the bottom of this case if he can’t find anything to work with.

Perhaps the gods heard his woes - or he’s finally lost his mind - for an intoxicatingly sweet scent fills his senses.

Jasmine.

As far as Obanai knows, he hasn’t seen any jasmine plants when he came into town. This had to mean something - it had to. Opting his kiseru for his blade instead, he easily slips out the window, feet hitting the ground without a sound. Taking off into the night, he races through the town’s streets, eyes darting back and forth for anything out of the usual.

He comes to an abrupt stop when the scent of jasmine grows even stronger. He’s sure now that whatever he’s been looking for is here. A slight shuffling catches his attention; whipping his head to the side, a wooden hatch to a window bangs against the side of a house, but there’s no one to be seen on the other side.

“Found you,” Obanai breathes.

Rushing over to the house, he drops into a crouch as he creeps closer to the window. Jasmine floods his senses, the irresistible aroma gripping onto his consciousness and practically demanding for him to come closer. Swallowing thickly, he ignores the sudden wave of heat flushing over his body as he peeks into the darkened room. A family of five lays on the floor, their bodies moving gently with the deepened breathing of a heavy slumber. Even now, Obanai has to resist the urge to shut his eyes and succumb to the flowery scent.

Although the room is dark, he can make out a strange pillar of smoke; ah, so that’s where the origin of the smell is coming from. Is it some type of mist demon? Flower? He isn’t entirely sure, but he doesn’t have the time to care. He needs to get rid of it now.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he unsheathes his blade, not wanting to attract attention to him yet. It’s a wish in vain, though; as soon as his blade is hanging in the air, the pillar of smoke rushes towards him, slamming into him and sending him flying. Obanai grunts as his back hits the ground, the sharp edge of rocks biting into the skin.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to sneak up on others?” a low, creamy voice drawls. Goosebumps break out across the surface of Obanai’s skin and a shiver races down his back. The smoke dissipates, then, revealing a feminine figure.

Obanai’s breath catches in his throat. This demon - you - are unlike any other he’s encountered. Immediately, his eyes latch onto the pair of horns protruding from your skull, pearly at the tip and then fading into ebony. You’re strikingly beautiful, facial features soft yet demanding. Embarrassment warms Obanai’s face as his eyes drift across the curves of your body; your breasts swell over the tight, strappy top while the entirety of your legs and hips frame the long loincloth-like garment between your legs. Both your arms and legs have the same pearly sheen towards the end, just like your horns.

By the gods, you’re ethereal, even if the claws on your fingers could easily tear Obanai’s throat out.

“So is breaking into other’s homes,” Obanai manages to croak. Bringing himself to a stand, he takes a defensive stance, his blade held out before him. He feels strangely heavy, almost like his body craves to stay flat on his back.

Much to his surprise, you pout at him, arms crossing beneath your chest and pushing your breasts further up. “But it gets so lonely at night, you know?” you say, that seductive lilt in your voice deepening. At that, you make a show of sweeping your eyes over Obanai’s bare torso, and a slight smile grows on your pretty lips.

Obanai clears his throat. He can’t let himself fall for your tricks, no matter how incredible you smell or alluring you look. If these are the methods you rely on, chances are you’re a weaker demon.

“What did you do with the missing persons?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

“Missing persons? Is that what they’re calling them?” you say, a giggle following your words.

Obanai growls at your nonchalant confession. If there’s one thing he can’t stand about demons, it’s their inability of basic human emotion, the inability of compassion. Yeah, he decides that your head is going to look even better once it’s separated from your body.

“You see, pretty boy,” you purr, pressing a hand to your throat and dragging it downwards, brushing over a luscious breast and tracing over your exposed tummy, “in return for making their dreams come true, I get to have a snack.”

“Enough,” Obanai grunts, switching to an offensive stance. “Maybe I’ll be gracious enough to meet you in hell someday.”

Before you even have a chance to react, Obanai springs into action, launching himself off the group in a great leap, lungs tightening as he releases a breath form.

It doesn’t hit.

It doesn’t fucking hit.

In fact, you’re nowhere in sight. Instead of the dusty, moonlit road, Obanai finds himself in an onsen; a great bamboo pavilion stands tall above the pool of water, blocking the golden rays of sunshine from hitting him. Thin trees are scattered about the area, riddled with stone lanterns and garden rocks covered in moss. With a chorus of birds singing overhead, it’s like he’s in an entire new world.

Muttering to himself, Obanai scans his surroundings, wracking his brain and trying to figure just what the hell happened. One moment, he’s about to slice your head clean off and put an end to your terror - the next, he’s in broad daylight in some overt paradise.

“Your dreams are beautiful,” that wonderful, wonderful voice of yours speaks.

Whirling around, Obanai sends splashes of water flying. “What did you do to me?” he spits.

You flash him a sly smile. “Why, I merely put you to sleep, pretty boy. Can’t be much of a threat if you’re not wide awake, no?”

Obanai curses under his breath. Of course you’re a dream demon - no wonder why there hasn’t been any bodies turning up. If only he had acted faster, got here sooner, more lives could’ve been saved. With a huff, he slithers further away from you, sinking below the water until only his face can be seen. “So what now? You’re going to try to kill me in my sleep? That’s a low blow and you know it.”

Sucking air through your teeth, you shake your head. Now that the two of you are no longer shrouded by darkness, Obanai really gets a good look of how utterly stunning you are. Again, he curses himself out, calling himself a fool for thinking such things when he should be killing you instead.

“Your blade isn’t here, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you tell him, a look of mischief crossing your features. “Silly boy - this a time meant for the two of us, not for you to end my forsaken life. Allow me to help you... relax.”

As you step to the edge of the onsen, Obanai finally notices the feeling of water caressing his thighs, his bare buttocks. You just had to make him naked in his dream, huh? What are you trying to accomplish, anyway? His eyes widen incredulously as your hands find their place on your torso, slinking over the swell of your breasts and around your neck; with a simple tug, your top comes loose. You merely let the garment fall to the rocks below, a small ‘oops’ slipping from our mouth.

Heat immediately floods to Obanai’s face and his groin; his insides squeeze in on themselves and he swallows thickly, thankful for the hidden protection the water provides. The look on your face is simply irresistible. Hell, even your breasts are as pretty as he imagined-

Shit, he inwardly curses, I shouldn’t be thinking like that.

But oh, you’re just so tempting, your hands squeezing your breasts, fingers rolling your hardening nipples as you stare directly at his flushed face. “Pretty boy,” you purr, “what’s your name?”

“Obanai.”

It’s out before he even knows it.

“Obanai...”

He really likes the way it rolls off your tongue, the dark glint in your eyes as you say it. Perhaps you can tell by his reaction alone - or maybe you like saying it - but you repeat his name, once, twice, thrice, and fuck does it drive Obanai insane. And then you’re reaching down, unfastening your lower garment and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground. Obanai’s cock twitches at the sight of your glorious body, the soft curves and glowing skin.

“Naughty boy, my eyes are up here,” you say. Again, you squeeze those beautiful fucking tits, a soft groan spilling from your lips. Obanai nearly goes feral from the sound; without further thought, he wades over to where you are. Jasmine clings in his nostrils, clouds his mind in a delicious haze, and he loves it.

You’re all too willing to meet his touch, body slipping into the heated water as he wraps his arms around you possessively. His body kicks into autopilot, mind going blank as he presses his lips to your throat. He should rip your throat out with his teeth, but there’s something magical about the way you arch into his touch, breasts pushing lewdly against his chest.

“Fucking-”

“Yes.”

A breathy moan spills from your lips as Obanai kneads your pretty tits, long fingers gripping possessively, wantingly. It’s almost ridiculous how hard he already is, his cock sandwiched between your bodies. He jolts as your hands land on his face, thumbs brushing against the ragged scars lining either sides of his mouth.

“Don’t,” he grits, but it goes ignored. The air is sucked from his lungs as you brush your lips over his scars, murmuring something about how pretty he is before stopping at his mouth. You kiss him fervently, clawed fingers scratching his shoulders as you tongue the inside of his mouth. You swallow the husky groan that spills from his mouth, hand dropping down from his shoulder and wrapping around his hardening cock.

“Ah, shit,” Obanai murmurs into your mouth.

“Tell me what you want, pretty boy,” you whisper, hand slowly jerking on his cock. His breathing picks up as you quicken your pace, the water rippling with the movements of your wrists. “Your wish is my command.”

“Gods, you’re such a fucking tease,” he pants, eyes practically glowing against the pink hue of his face. Ducking his head, he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the wet warmth enveloping your breast and eliciting a delicious moan from you. Obanai wastes no more time, opting to prop you in his lap and pressing your back against a smooth stone. “I shouldn’t... but fuck...”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re angry with me anymore,” you husk in that damned sexy voice. A moan bubbles from your throat as Obanai starts rocking against you, cock slipping against your folds. It’ll only take a little push for him to fill that pretty cunt of yours, to stuff you full of his cock and fuck you raw. It’s what he wants.

“Shut up,” he grunts, mouth latching onto your nipple, his hand beginning to play with the other. A low, drawn out curse gets muffled by your chest as he finally slips his cock into you; it shouldn’t be physically possible, but your velvety walls seemingly clench around him and suck him in, your arousal making the slide impossibly easy. He hiccups on a breath, his entire body twitching as he pants.

“The thing about succubi,” you drawl, sharp nails tracing down his spine, over the muscles in his back, “is that we’re the demons of sex and dreams. Oh, pretty baby, how much I’ve lucked out. Everyone else seemed like an appetizer - and you...” You pause, suck air between your teeth. “You’re like the damn main course.”

A helpless little grunt graces your ear as you fuck yourself on Obanai’s cock. His hips match your movements, your sopping cunt eagerly sucking him back in and squeezing around him. You’re so damn wet that it’s infuriating; Obanai wants more, more of your touch, your voice, that sweet scent clogging his senses. He can’t bring himself to stop touching your breasts, whether if it’s his hands or mouth. They bounce with the erratic rhythm of your hips, way too beautiful and hypnotizing.

A breathless whine breaks through your cute little pants whenever Obanai smacks a hand against the ample flesh of your ass. “Is that you meant when you said you make others’ wishes come true? Have them fuck that tight pussy of yours? Huh?”

“Obanai, don’t be mean,” you pout.

“Says a fucking demon that eats people.”

You hiss as his cockhead hits against your g-spot. “I can eat you too, so don’t get cocky, pretty boy.”

Obanai clicks his tongue, his brows furrowing. “You better keep that promise,” he grunts, thumb grazing your bottom lip. “I won’t take no for an answer.” He growls as your walls clench around him.

“If that’s your wish, Master,” you purr, a slight chuckle following your words, “then it is my command.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #obanai iguro x reader #iguro obanai x reader #obanai iguro #iguro obanai #request

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forcefullyawake · 3 years ago

Text

Hello! This is for @ketslketslketsl claws and creampies collab.

Summary: It’s not every day a pretty girl gives you her number, or pursues you so much. Sure, it looks like Mikasa is hiding something, but how bad could it be?

Pairings: Mikasa x Reader, Monster! Eren x Reader

Warnings: non human sex, noncon, violence, tentacles, gaslighting

WC: 4.8k

You look like an idiot.

There’s really no way around it. The dress your friend had all but forced you into is a little too tight, the straps on it digging into your plump flesh a little too much. The color on your lips is a little too red, the makeup on your eyes a little heavier than you’d ever done before. All of this to stand out, to show to the party at large that not only were you available but you were looking- something you hadn’t gone out of your way to advertise before. Your friends say that you look hot before you leave, but you think you look like you’re trying to hard.

It’s especially obvious when you’re handed a red solo cup as soon as you walk into the door, and immediately find a place on the wall to people watch. Nobody gives you a second glance (well, maybe a couple do, but at the resting frown on your face nobody gives you a third or tries to strike up a conversation). All of the makeup in the world can’t overcome the fact that you just don’t like talking to new people. Hell, even the friends you came with tonight basically adopted you into their friend group your first week of college, instead of you engaging them.

People filter through the home all around you, some dancing where there’s open space, grinding on each other to a low thumping beat that reverberates through your chest. You have to shift on the uncomfortable heels you’re wearing, trying to subtly grind your thighs together. It’s not like you don’t want that- it’s not like you don’t want to throw caution to the wind and disappear upstairs with some pretty boy or gorgeous girl. It’s just that you don’t know how- it’s like you missed that lesson in school, too wrapped up in a book to learn to relate to people who didn’t exist on a page.

Your mother says it’s not too late to get out there and learn about these things, but it feels that way sometimes. In times like these, it’s hard to gather up the courage to strike up a conversation, even when you’re on your second drink. At least you think it’s your second drink- whatever is in your cup is red and fruity, and it doesn’t taste like there’s much alcohol in it, which even in your limited experience you know is a sure sign there’s probably a whole bottle or two of something in it. It makes your head swim a little, it’s nice in a way but it mostly makes you sleepy.

Maybe you can call an Uber. You can find one of your friends to let them know you’re leaving, call an Uber and go to sleep at an almost decent hour. Let them have all the fun, and the hangovers, while you get a solid eight hours of sleep. At least it’s the weekend, and you have two days of freedom before your job takes up your time again. Your eyes start slowly scanning the crowd, looking for anybody you know- Annie, maybe, she’s tall and her blonde hair sticks out. Or Reiner, the lone male in your group, but knowing him he’s snuck off with Bertolt the first chance they got. Lucky bastard.

“You look lonely,” Someone says to your right, and when you look over there’s a girl standing there. She’s a couple inches taller than you, slender but the sleeves on her shirt are short enough you can see her muscles too. Black hair, pulled back into a ponytail, a dainty gold chain resting on the pale skin of her neck with a little ‘M’ on it. Startling grey eyes that are doing their level best to bore into your skin. Definitely not the type to talk to you.

“Just trying to find my friends,” You say, but it mostly comes out as a whisper. She leans forward a little more, so you repeat yourself, a little louder. There’s a slight edge to her smile when she realizes you’re alone, you think, something about it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It must be a trick of the light, though, because the next moment it’s gone.

“It might be easier to find them if you’re in the crowd,” She says, murmuring right next to your ear, her breath dancing over your skin, “They could be upstairs, even. I could help you.”

You mean to say no, thanks but no thanks, you’ll be on your way. Your parents talked to you about stranger danger, and you’re on the wrong side of tipsy but what comes out of your mouth is, “Yes, please.” She smiles, victorious and promising.

“I’m Mikasa,” She tells you, putting her hand low on your back as you move away from the wall. The way the dress is designed, all wrapping layers, means there’s a gap in the fabric on your lower back, just enough that you can feel her hand on your skin, cool against you despite how warm it is in the room. You give her your name, watching as she repeats it to make sure she has it correct, eyes rapt on the way her lips move around it.

She doesn’t guide you upstairs, but closer into the makeshift dance floor. It feels like a scene out of one of the romance novels you have tucked away on your bookshelf at home. People seem to part around you, time stands still, all the cliche’s come to life. Her hands are on your hips as she moves behind you, steady and squeezing into you just enough to make your heart race. Mikasa isn’t especially broad but you feel remarkably safe with her right behind you.

“See anybody you know?” She has to lean down to speak in your ear, and between the alcohol and how close she is, you’re not sure you would even recognize your own face. You can feel her moving in time with the music, your own hips starting to sway with hers. Your eyes drift shut, letting her hands wander over your sides, skimming up to right under your breasts before the make a trail like fire back down to your hips. Maybe this isn’t so bad, you think, as you let yourself turn in her arms, her thigh moving between yours.

You’d think it’s a dream, that you did go home when you thought to, and your mind was wandering but the pleasure that courses through your when her jeans rub against your clothed cunt feels too good to be a dream.

“You do this often?” She asks, drawing you back to earth. All you can do is shake your head, arms coming up to wrap around her neck. She laughs at that, mouth forming words you can’t quite make out when you hear your name being called.

“I think your friends have found you,” Mikasa smiles, taking a step back as she eyes someone over your shoulder. Your hands drift back to yourself, helpless in the air before she catches one, grabbing a pen out of her back pocket to scribble something on the back of your hand. She presses a kiss on it when she’s done, giving you a warm smile.

“Call me,” She says, before being swallowed into the bodies behind her. On your hand there’s a phone number. You hold your hand close to your chest as your friends surround you.

“There you are!” Annie hisses at you, wrapping a protective arm around you, “What were you doing with her?”

“Mikasa?” You ask, glancing behind you like you would still be able to see her, “She was helping me look for you. You left me.”

“She looked like she wanted to eat you alive,” Reiner huffs, Bertolt nodding in agreement. You roll your eyes at them.

“Maybe you’re just seeing things,” You suggest, pulling away from them, “Either way I think I’m going to head out. You know this isn’t my scene.”

“I’ll drive you,” Annie says, looking over your shoulder, “Armin is ready to go too.”

“Thanks,” You walk with Annie and her boyfriend to her hatchback, stretching out your legs in the backseat. You ignore their hand holding and longing looks. Clearly, when Annie said Armin was ready to go, she didn’t just mean home. At least the drive home is short. You say your goodbyes and make your way into your apartment, locking the door behind you before getting ready for bed.

Normally you would be tired, but there’s a thrumming in your veins, an undercurrent of excitement at the number written on your skin. You enter it into your phone, debating on sending Mikasa a text, but you hold off, not wanting to seem overeager. Still, you toss and turn, your skin feeling overly sensitive, each brush of your sheets feeling like the brush of fingers.

With a sigh you give up on sleep, rolling onto your back, one hand trailing down your neck while the other pushes up your sleep shirt, fingers skimming up, cupping one breast. You let your eyes close, imaging someone else touching you, Mikasa’s fingers being the ones to curl around your neck, her fingers tweaking at your nipples until they’ve pebbled. You picture her lips, her tongue, when you spread your lips, fingers making tight circles around your clit. It’s not you touching yourself, but her, playing your body like a fiddle until you cum, quicker than you can remember in recent memory, hard and fast, one hand smothering down your moans from your neighbors.

Maybe it should concern you though- no matter how hard you concentrate on Mikasa, picturing her above you, or between your legs, you can seem to recall the color of her eyes.

They only look red in your memory.

Dawn rises bright and early, pulling you from your sleep. You wake up with your heart racing, pounding in your chest. You don’t remember much of your nightmare, only that something was chasing you, nipping at your heels as you ran for your life. With a shudder you roll out of bed, thoughtlessly grabbing your phone to take it with you to the bathroom.

You gather courage as you brush last night out of your teeth, compose a text while washing your face, and hit send right before you step into the shower. It’s nothing special, a quick text that lets Mikasa know it’s you. Your phone balances precariously too close to your shower, music playing steadily out of it when the sound cuts off- your ringtone starts to play. You’re getting a call.

Grabbing your towel from where it rests you dry your hand, half your body out of the shower as you take the call without checking who it is. Nobody calls anymore, you assume it’s an emergency.

“Hello?” You try not to sound too panicked. The voice on the other end laughs, low and throaty.

“I thought I said to call me?” Mikasa teases you, can you feel your skin heating up for a reason that has nothing to do with the shower. There’s no way to turn the water off from where you are now, not without getting your phone soaked, and you’re sure she can hear exactly where you are. “Though, maybe I should give you a call back.”

“Give me ten seconds, don’t hang up,” You say, not listening for her reply as you place the phone back onto the counter. Reaching over to twist the shower off, ignoring the soap left on your body to grab your towel and wrap it around you properly. It’s not enough but it’ll have to do.

“Still there?” You ask as you make yourself comfortable on the bed. Your sheets are gonna get wet but it’s worth it. Your skin is cold where the air hits it, but you don’t wanna hang up, not yet.

“Of course,” Mikasa breathes, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I know it’s a bit old fashioned to call people now, but I find it’s a much better way of communicating with people, don’t you?”

No, you don’t. You get flustered and stutter over your words, so you much prefer texting where you can make sure you say what you want to, but you certainly can’t tell Mikasa that and so- “Yeah, I think so too. It’s hard to read tone over text.”

That part isn’t a lie, at least. Mikasa’s laugh is like honey in your ears. “You don’t have to lie, I can put you out of your misery now, if you’d like. Send some texts with the letter u as you.” Her teasing doesn’t sting you, not even a little bit.

“Or we could just meet up?” You suggest, breath catching in your throat as you wait for her reply. It could be that you’ve completely misread the situation, maybe she’s just being nice, maybe she doesn’t like girls, maybe-

“Give me an address and I’ll pick you up tonight at 7,” Mikasa replies, so smooth and confident it makes your head swim a little. You rattle off your address and she tells you to dress casual before hanging up. You have all day to get ready but you start immediately, drying your hair and styling it before picking out what you hope is a casual enough outfit- a soft white sweater over a sundress patterned with strawberries. A few swipes of pink makeup later and you’re set.

Now all you have to do is wait.

It feels like the hours manage to double themselves, or even triple themselves. A whole lifetime of waiting in one day until you manage to lose track of time and doze off on the couch. Three sharp knocks on your door startle you awake, sending you flying towards the door.

“I’m awake!” You practically shout, throwing the door open. “I mean. Hello. Hi. Can we do that again?”

“No, it was cute,” Mikasa says, smiling at you. You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, trying to ignore it. You’re not sure if you should invite her in but she solves that problem for you. “Are you ready? The place I’m taking you isn’t that far away.”

“Just let me get my shoes on,” You say, quickly turning to slide your feet into the first pair of sandals you see, strappy ones that make you trip if you’re not careful. But it’s fine. You know you’ll be careful tonight.

Mikasa leads you to her car, a silver hatchback. The interior looks spotless, and there’s an almost overwhelming smell of cleaner permeating through the car. You buckle yourself in before looking at her.

“Got it detailed just for me?” You think your voice is teasing but Mikasa stiffens, inhaling sharply as she looks at you. Her reaction takes you aback. “Whoa. Sorry. Teasing!” Mikasa relaxes almost imperceptibly at that, but you can see her shoulders sag down a little.

“Sorry, normally nobody notices how clean a car is,” She says, “Took me off guard. You’re very perceptive.”

“A lifetime of being a wallflower,” You reply without thinking, “You get good at people watching, all that jazz.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” She teases you back now, bringing a smile to your face. She’s right, the place she takes you isn’t that far away and the drive passes smoothly as she pulls into the parking lot of your towns oldest diner. You sit up straighter in your seat- you haven’t been here since you were a kid.

“It’s a little old fashioned, I know,” Mikasa says as she gets out, and you must be distracted because the next thing you know she’s opening your door for you, and there’s no way she moved that fast. “But the ice cream floats here are to die for.”

“Oh no, this is great!” You exclaim, walking next to her into the diner. She asks for a booth in the corner, something you didn’t know people did outside of your romance novels.

“Order whatever you want,” Mikasa says, barely giving the menu a glance. “It’s my treat.” Your mother didn’t raise you to take advantage of someone’s generosity even on a date so you order a small combination meal- though you do opt to upgrade your drink to an ice cream float at Mikasa’s insistence you try one.

“What do you do for work?” You ask, trying not to cringe at your attempt at small talk while you wait for your food to come out.

“I’m.. uh,” Mikasa hesitates now, looking anywhere but your face. It takes her a fraction of a second too long to answer, just enough time to make you frown when she continues, “I’m a caregiver.” Even to you it sounds like a half truth, but you let it slide, not wanting to be too pushy on a first date.

“Oh?” You say, shifting in your seat, “How did you get started in that?”

“It just kind of.. picked me, I suppose.” Mikasa still isn’t meeting your eyes and you figure it’s time for a change of subject.

“How do you know Historia?” There, that should be a safe question. She was at Historia’s party last night, after all.

“We were friends way back in elementary school,” Mikasa explains, clearly relieved to have moved to something different. “I live one neighborhood over from her, so we’ve already just hung out together.” That makes sense to you- Annie has known Historia since high school, and Annie seemed to know of Mikasa.

“Got any embarrassing stories?” You know you probably shouldn’t ask but you can’t resist. The Historia you know is almost regal in nature, prim and perfect at all times. You can’t even imagine her as a child.

“Oh, do I ever,” Mikasa says, voice a little lower as she leans towards you, launching into a story from her childhood. You hardly notice your food appearing, and then barely taste it as you eat, hanging on Mikasa’s every word. She’s funny and engaging, and it’s not until you hear the pointed cough of the man behind the register that you realize it’s closing time for them.

“Yeah, Zeke, we’re going,” Mikasa says with a roll of her eyes as she pays him. He huffs at her a little bit but soon enough the two of you are sitting inside of her car, an awkward silence growing. What do you say now? You don’t want this date to end but would it be to forward to invite her over? Or will she invite you over? You don’t get too far into your thoughts when the car starts moving.

“Do you wanna come over?” She asks, the car sitting long at a stop sign. She’s looking dead ahead, fingers gripping the wheel so hard it turns white. She’s just as nervous as you are, you realize.

“Yes, please,” You manage to breathe out before continuing on, not wanting to sound rude, “If you want me to, that is.”

“Trust me, I want you to,” Mikasa replies, something laced in her voice but she doesn’t relax at all on the drive to her place. The drive is quiet, tense in a way you don’t understand, but there’s still an electric current in your veins as her house comes into view. It’s one neighborhood over from where you were last night, just like she said, a small place that looks like a two bedroom.

“I got it from my parents,” She explains as she leads you inside, locking the door behind you. “When they passed.” You’re not sure what to say at that but the moment passes. Mikasa leads you to the couch.

Now what?

“So,” You start, barely getting the word out before her lips are pressed against yours, pushing you back onto the couch. Her mouth is firm on yours, insistent. Her hands are on you, sliding down your sides, teasing your thighs under the hem of your dress. Her mouth moves to your neck, biting and kissing and sucking her way down.

It’s a lot, almost too much. You want to tell her to stop, to slow down a little but Mikasa presses forward, your dress sliding up as she slides down between your legs. The shadows on the wall dance in a weird way, that doesn’t seem to move with the way the lights are. You can’t voice anything as Mikasa’s mouth covers your pussy, mouthing at it over your underwear. Her spit wets the fabric, her tongue dragging over your clit, making your eyes roll back. Your fingers curl into fists at your side, legs spreading wider to accommodate her shoulders- which you realize seem too wide now.

You’re so close when your eyes finally open and you look down.

Mikasa isn’t between your legs.

Whatever’s taken her place isn’t human, the face looks human enough but his body (and he’s definitely a him- you think you almost recognize him) blends in with the shadow, tentacles sliding up behind him, reaching out for you.

“Hello,” The monster says, ignoring the way you scream. You manage to twist free, catching him by surprise as your hand shoots out to scratch right at his eyes. You’re on your feet, running as you hear two voices call out your name.

But your shoes, your stupid strappy sandals- your ankle rolls in them and then something grabs you before you fall completely, your head slamming against the front door as everything does dark.

“Wake up,” A harsh voice commands you. It’s a growl, in human and it seems to be inside of your head. You ignore it, trying to roll over, thinking you’re dreaming but you can’t move. That makes your eyes shoot open.

“You’re up!” The monster is looming over you, using it’s many tentacles to hold you down. Your clothes are gone, the cold air biting at your skin. You’re not even sure how it’s this cold inside of a bedroom, one that looks to be incredibly decorated as well. There’s a chair in the corner, a plush blanket under you. It almost looks like a hotel room.

“Mikasa brought you just for me,” It tells you , leaning in close, his tongue coming out to lick at your throat. “You’re so sweet, I can’t wait to play with you, can’t wait to eat you right up!”

“Let- let go of me!” You shout, trying to make your voice as loud as possible. Maybe a neighbor will hear you. Maybe the monster doesn’t like loud noises. “Mikasa!”

“You can scream all you want, nobody is coming to save you,” The monster seems to delight in the way his cruel words make you cry. “It’s just me and you.” It pauses. “Maybe I’ll let Mikasa play with you a little too, before I kill you. She really liked you, she almost didn’t want to give you to me.”

He leans closer, speaking into your ear, rancid breath sweeping over you, “But I insisted. And she won’t ever deny me.”

“Eren,” Mikasa’s voice comes from the door way, “There’s no need to be cruel.” She’s not looking at you at all, looking rapturously at the monster on top of you. She looks in awe, in love even.

And not even slightly afraid of him.

“You know they taste better when they’re afraid, Mikasa, how many times do I have to tell you that?” The monster, Eren, snaps at her, hardly giving her a second glance. A tentacle creeps up your leg, twisting around it, the tip grazing over your cunt. A shudder of revulsion runs through you when it taps your clit, sending a spark of pleasure through you. “It’s better when they fight it. It always is.”

“Whatever you say, Eren,” Mikasa gives a sigh, taking up the seat you saw before. She’s wearing sweat pants now, a sports bra, looking like she’s just came in from working out. There’s a light sweat on her skin.

“Going to watch this time?” Eren asks, shifting so he’s to your side now, his tentacles holding you open, putting you on display. You try to close your legs but he’s too strong, his grip too tight. “Normally you don’t. Is this one special?”

“You know as well as I do that she’s just like the rest of them,” Mikasa says, and that, more than anything is what breaks you. A sob tears from your throat, as reality comes crashing in. You’re nothing more than a mark- she was never really into you at all.

Of course, you think, why would anybody like her be into someone like you?

More of his tentacles come up, holding your pussy open to their gazes. Despite her harsh words Mikasa has a hard time looking away from it. Eren’s tentacles are softer than they look as one circles your clit, drawing wetness from you no matter how much you tell yourself you don’t want this.

The tip of the tentacle is insistent though, circling your clit with more pressure until your hips jump up, chasing after it when Eren moves it back. He laughs, mocking and mean, before returning to his ministrations. He’s not soft in the way he touches you, one tentacle coming up to start to slowly push it’s way inside of you. It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before and it hurts.

“Stop,” You whine, hips twisting away from him as much as you can, “It hurts, please, stop!”

“I’ll stop when I’ve had my fill,” Eren replies, his voice mockingly sweet as the tentacle rams into you, splitting you open. The one circling your clit has left, leaving you reeling as your mind focuses in on the pain. The pace he sets is brutal, and his tentacle doesn’t feel like a cock or any of your toys. It squirms inside of you, pushing upwards along your front wall until-

“Fuck!” You wail now, thrashing on the bed. Eren smiles, and Mikasa gives a little whimper. You manage to look at her only to see her sat low in the chair, her own legs spread, with one of her hands down the front of her sweats, clearly touching herself while the other works at one of her nipples. “Please!”

“I knew you would beg,” Eren sounds delighted, “They always beg!” Your words seem to be what he was waiting for- the tentacle returns to your clit while the other attacks that spongy spot inside of you. You’re crying outright now, absolutely sobbing with- with everything, really. Your cries are of pleasure, of pain, of fear, of ecstasy. You cum harder than you ever have in your entire life.

But Eren doesn’t stop.

He keeps going, now moving to to lap up your juices with his tongue, cleaning you as one orgasm trips into the next, and then another. You can’t tell if you ever really come down from one. It’s too much, it hurts again, and you don’t want this- you know you don’t want this, you want him to stop and-

You pass out, somewhere after what you think is an hour, if not more. Your mind blissfully goes blank, locking you away behind a door, away from your fractured reality.

People are talking above you, in quiet, hushed tones.

“We can’t keep her.”

“You said you just wanted a snack tonight, Eren. Not.. not that.”

“She’ll go to the police.”

“They won’t believe her, you know that. They didn’t believe Historia.”

“Historia was a child.”

“I’ll convince her she fell asleep or something, you know I can.”

“Fine. But Mikasa?”

“Yes?”

“Next time she’s mine.”

You don’t hear anything after that.

“Hey,” Mikasa is by your side. You’re back on her couch, clothes in place. You jerk up, away from her, looking for signs of what happened but there’s nothing. You don’t see any bruising. You feel sore between your legs, but nothing that would match what you went through. “You fell asleep. After we fucked.”

That’s not true, you know it isn’t true but the only other explanation doesn’t make sense. Monsters aren’t real. You weren’t… assaulted by one. Mikasa has to be right.

“Oh,” You struggle to sit up, feeling sluggish. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not like that.” The smile on Mikasa’s face is warm, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think I need to go home. I don’t feel so good. Can you take me?”

“Sure, of course,” Mikasa sounds relieved. That’s good, you think, she’s not mad at you. It must have been awkward for her when you fell asleep, had that nightmare. It felt so real. She helps you gather up your things. One of the straps on your sandal is broken. You’re not sure how but it’s a short walk to her car, you can go barefoot.

She starts it up, already talking to you about meeting up again, maybe next week if you want? You tell her it sounds nice, that you had a really good time tonight. You can’t tell how she’s lying through her teeth.

You give her home one last look as she pulls the car away.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think the shadow in the window had a face, that it waved at you.

But you know better.

Monsters aren’t real.

#collabs #mikasa x reader #eren x reader #noncon tw #gaslighting tw #violence tw #non human sex tw

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delimeful · 4 years ago

Text

not always what they seem (3)

warnings: remus pov so lots of brief mentions of gore/violence, some NSFW comments/innuendos/saucy jokes, dissection mention, miscommunication, minor injuries

the song remus so graciously performs for everyone is "a gorey demise"! :)

Remus kicked his legs absently as his alien carried him through the giant halls of... wherever the hell they were. A spaceship? Some sort of research facility? Maybe probing was still on the table.

He was pretty sure at this point that this was real, if only because if it was one of his night terrors, there would have been at least 35% more death and gore by now. Maybe 40%.

And it wasn’t like there hadn’t already been prime opportunities at basically every moment, with how small and crushable they were in comparison to each of the aliens! If the three of them were the protagonists, by slasher movie standards, two of them would have to be grotesquely killed by the end. He wondered absently which of his fellow abductees would make a better Final Survivor.

His attention immediately switched tracks as they reached a stopping point, and Logan settled their hand down on a giant, metallic table. Remus rolled off onto the surface and sprang up to his feet, rubbing his hands together maniacally. “So, what’s first?”

The alien’s big fluffy ears twitched, but they didn’t do more than glance down at Remus before tapping at a smooth blue surface and pulling up extensive diagrams. Well, if the alien wasn’t going to bring the experiments to him, he’d bring himself to the experiments!

He trotted across the table and skipped onto the blue surface, ignoring the windows and symbols that flickered into existence behind every step. If they didn’t want him walking all over the alien version of a touchscreen, they should have kidnapped him with shoes! Or broken his legs, like very literal theatre fans.

Logan didn’t lift a hand to stop him though, their head tilted curiously like a feral cat seeing something small and breakable to maul. Remus dialed the probability of it being a night terror up a few percentages, and then turned to look at the diagrams anyhow.

Ah, yes, pictures. The universal language.

He had no idea what most of the creatures depicted were or what the labels attached read, but the drawings themselves were clear enough: bodies posed neutrally, no clothes, and some parts of them exposed to show muscle, bone, and organ.

“Hm,” Remus hummed, consideringly. “These are either dissection diagrams or some really gory pornography... Either way, I’m so down.”

He flashed the alien a double thumbs up, and flopped down on top of a diagram. Logan reached over and messed with the touchscreen for a moment, and then reached even further and returned with a long, narrow utensil, black and pointed at one end.

They set the point of it directly next to his torso without even bothering to press the rest of him down, and Remus wondered if the alien expected him not to thrash around while he was being dissected. Maybe aliens had technology that deadened nerves as they cut through them! He’d always wondered how long he’d be able to survive a vivisection.

Logan moved the utensil, and Remus’s body twitched in adrenaline-fueled anticipation despite feeling exactly nothing. He craned his neck to see what was going on, and blinked.

A line stretched across the touchscreen where the utensil had slid across it, shadowing the curve of his ribcage over what looked hilariously similar to graph paper.

The alien was tracing him.

“Oh, come on!”

---

Logan’s tail swayed in curiosity as Remus began to make louder versions of those little noises that made up the aliens’ language, accentuated with a hand gesture. The motion made it harder to get an accurate outline, but the main point was to get basic measurements anyhow, so Logan didn’t try to stifle the little creature’s movements.

He absolutely didn’t want to disrupt the odd casualness with which this one treated him, so different from Virgil’s earlier twitchy terror and even D’s careful consideration of their every movement. While quite rowdy in nature, Remus seemed the most unconcerned with the situation, only showing aggression when one of the others had been grabbed without warning.

The tiny aliens were certainly a puzzle. D had given Remus’s name for them, perhaps indicating a social hierarchy, but Remus was also the largest between the three of them and had been completely unfazed by any teeth baring or tackling from the other two.

He prodded the tiny alien lightly as he finished and saved the measurement, and when that garnered no response, he curled fingers under them and lifted them up securely. Remus ragdolled petulantly, seeming oddly mopey. Perhaps the measurements had bored them?

Hopefully, the maze would provide a little more enrichment. Logan had made the deeper areas quite tricky, after all.

---

Patton was very delicate with how he handled D.

He’d tried to be careful with Remus, too, but they’d seemed pretty intent on trying to bite off little chunks of his suit, and attempt to scale dangerous items, and generally make Patton feel a little wonderment at the fact that the tiny creature had managed to survive long enough to make it to them.

With D, it was much easier, because the alien moved slower than the other two, with a purposeful grace. It seemed Patton didn’t have to worry about D throwing themself off any available high surface just to see if Patton would manage to catch them in time, at least.

He carefully shifted his hand to his research desk, and D adjusted the cuffs of their borrowed overlayer before stepping off of his hand.

Despite D’s languid movements, something about their body language seemed much more mindful than Remus. The pause as they took in the landscape and the ambient writing scrolls scattered across the table before deigning to turn and look at Patton, it felt almost... calculated. As though they were thinking about every move to present a certain image.

Patton reminded himself that there were plenty of aliens that didn’t feel as strongly as Nilhae about the authentic self, and these aliens in particular had more reason than most to hide themselves. They were tiny and vulnerable here, stripped from their homes and families, and by all appearances, Patton and his teammates were the ones responsible.

He wasn’t sure he’d be eager to share his unfiltered self if he was in their situation, either.

Patton clasped both sets of lower hands together determinedly. The solution was the same regardless of if he wanted to fulfill his responsibility as a researcher or make any progress in befriending these little guys: they needed to communicate!

He pulled out two sets of the common alphabet, one printed and one imprinted. He wasn’t sure which senses were the keenest for these aliens, which ones they used for their own language systems, so it was best to cover all his bases.

D studied the printed one curiously, but seemed less interested by the imprinted one. Perhaps the materials used for touch-reading were different for them? Patton moved his hand closer slowly, allowing them time to protest, and held a digit out.

After a short staredown, D set their tiny hand atop it, and Patton guided them both to the surface of the imprints. The symbols were oversized for their tiny digits, but they seemed to get the idea, running their hands over the carved bumps and glancing back and forth between the printed letters and the imprinted ones.

Patton cheered internally, and then flicked a finger in the air to get D’s attention.

“Wait here please!” he enunciated carefully, and then held a hand out, palm-down, to indicate that they should stay put.

D kept their expression carefully neutral, not twitching in any way Patton could read, which made sense, since this was the first time Patton was using these words. Hopefully, context and a few repetitions would help them puzzle the meaning out.

He dipped his lowest arms in a polite be-right-back, turned, and left the room.

It didn’t take him long to duck in and out of the few rooms that held the items he needed, though he seemed to accidentally give Virgil a bit of a startle, going by the wide-eyed look the alien shot at him as Roman greeted him briefly.

Every hand full, he returned to his space, and found D standing in almost the exact same spot, shoulders loose and relaxed, attention remaining on the printed alphabet even as Patton walked closer.

He set each item down, earning a casual glance from the alien, and discreetly checked the heat register for the desk’s touch surface.

Sure enough, the past few moments showed recordings of small footprints that traced the perimeter of the desk, checking every possible side of it, likely for an easy way down. Then, they swiftly headed back to the center of the desk and settled back in place, close enough that it would appear they hadn’t moved at all.

Patton’s mouth twisted unhappily; he could teach the aliens as many words as they wanted, but if they didn’t trust them enough to even show their discomfort with the captivity, real communication would be out of reach.

They had a long way to go.

Remus whistled cheerily as he was carried back to the communal room, Logan’s padded fingers forming a more secure grip around him than before. He didn’t get squeezed to death or anything, so the alien probably wasn’t too angry with him. Or they were just contemplating a more painful method to murder him.

The other alien, the one with the freaky-awesome bug mouth and the rude grabby hands, was still in there, seated by the designated Gawk-At-Humans platform. They made some greeting noises at each other, a couple of which Remus imitated to himself, mangling the vowels in the back of his throat.

As Logan got closer, he could see Virgil standing surprisingly close to Grabby, and even better, the kid was all in one grumpy human-shaped piece. He jumped down from Logan’s hand before it was completely lowered and laughed as he felt his knees pop uncomfortably.

Logan made a warble-chirp of probably-disgust-maybe-concern, but Remus was swiftly distracted by the emo appearing at his side between one blink and the next, as though he’d teleported. He circled Remus like a starving wolf, his lips pulling back slightly as he took in the bruising around his shoulders. “What’d they do to you?”

“Well, he didn’t dissect me, which would normally be an automatic fail in the mad scientist gradebook, but,” Remus paused for emphasis, “I got to trash the electronic version of a horror movie corn maze, so I’m pleased as prostitutes!”

“He put you in that maze? I knew that thing was unsafe, holy shit—,” Virgil moved to put himself between Remus and Logan like he himself wasn’t just as squishable as Remus was.

“It seemed OSHA-approved to me! Before I smashed through all those walls, I mean.” He admired his scraped up hands with a cheek-stretching grin. “It’s much less boring now, with all the fun and sharp metal scarecrow sculptures I put together to jumpscare the piss out of future contenders!”

“An alien put you in a trap-filled rat race and you made modern art?” Virgil asked, successfully distracted from whatever horrific war crimes he was inventing for Logan in that little lemming brain of his.

“Can’t have anyone beating my time!” Remus confirmed cheerily.

“You— I. Ugh. Whatever!” Virgil threw his hands up, and then grabbed the front of Remus’s shirt and dragged him further from the two aliens like a bully stereotype from a low-budget teen coming-of-age movie. “Listen, the other one— Patton? They came in here earlier without Dee. I’m worried about— my hoodie.”

Remus would have made fun of the emo for his slip-up, but he was too busy imagining Dee splattered across some distant spaceship flooring. “That alien hardly even touched me,” Remus countered for both of their sakes. “For someone with so many hands, the guy sure didn’t want to get handsy.”

“You used that one already,” Virgil told him, unimpressed. “Get better hand jokes.”

“I’m better at jobs.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows, and received a muted smack on the shoulder for his efforts. He glanced back at Grabby automatically and found both aliens watching them, neither taking umbrage with Virgil smacking him like a cat annihilating a moth. “What happened with your xenomorph?”

“Terrible movie to compare us to,” Virgil muttered, but he glanced over his shoulder at Grabby without any of his earlier terror. Grabby waved at him like some kind of people-pleaser desperate for connection. “Pretty sure I just went through the same ordeal as one of those endangered birds scientists catch and release. Weighed, measured, photographed against my will.”

“Did you at least get a colorful tag to attract more bitches with?” Remus asked, lifting his ankle up in example.

“I would have bitten them first,” Virgil replied sourly. “I didn’t spend my whole adult life avoiding all government interaction to get slapped with a house arrest anklet now. Especially not a colorful one.”

“They’re not that bad as long as you can ignore the beeping,” Remus assured him, and then paused to contemplate. “...All government interaction? Did you get sold to aliens for being a tax evader?”

Halfway through Virgil’s resulting spluttering fit, Patton trotted through the doorway, Dee sitting on one of his hands looking just as untouchable as always. He stepped gracefully onto the table’s surface once Patton’s hand got close enough for a smooth dismount, and said something in the alien language, apparently fluently as all three of them worked themselves into a tizzy over it.

Dee turned to them with an expectant look, and they wandered over to meet him like peons to their tyrannical king, or rotting driftwood in a river.

“Congrats on the Klingon!” Remus grinned salaciously. “Did you know the ship name for the most homoerotic characters in Star Trek is Kock?”

“Shut up, it is not,” Virgil said, like a nerd. “But seriously, you know what they’re saying?”

“Yes, completely, I learned an entire language in one session,” Dee snarked back, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like short phrases such as ‘thank you’ are much easier for non-native speakers to pick up naturally or anything.”

Remus interrupted Virgil’s answering hiss with a very important query. “Did you teach them any swears?”

“No,” Dee’s eyes flashed in warning, “and you won’t be teaching them any either. Or any English at all. The longer we keep our conversations incomprehensible to them, the longer we’ll maintain what little privacy we have left. I’ll share the alien language with you both, naturally, so you can report to me on what they say when they think we’re not listening.”

Remus and Virgil stared at him for a long moment before exchanging glances.

“I can’t believe you accused me of tax evasion when Dee is right here,” Virgil complained, earning himself a sharp look from the man in question.

“Who told you about that?” he hissed, and then visibly remembered that they were in space and so it probably didn’t matter. He adjusted his cuffs, which looked absolutely ridiculous from a guy wearing a hoodie instead of a suit. “Ahem. Regardless, we’re learning their language, not the other way around. If they have half a brain between the three of them, though, listening to me teaching you will be enough for them to pick up on some English. We’re going to need a distraction.”

“You had me at ‘between the three of them’!” Remus announced suggestively, making Virgil fake-gag next to him. “Leave it to me!”

Dee seemed completely content to let him wreak his havoc, grabbing Virgil and sitting down near the back of the table, the side where the aliens weren’t.

Remus strode up to the three giants confidently and cleared his throat pointedly. When that didn’t work, he screamed at the top of his lungs instead. That worked no matter where he was!

“Alright, everybody sit down, quiet down, listen up,” he started brightly, spreading his arms wide. “I brought you all here to recite the annual obituaries. Like every year, we’ll start with A and we’ll end with Z…”

---

Patton blinked, absolutely entranced as Remus belted out words to an invisible tempo.

The little creature’s vocal chords were stronger than they looked, because their melody came out loud and clear, with accompanying charades that Patton could make absolutely no sense of.

Once they had wound down to the last words and then silence, Remus looked up at them expectantly.

“Wow, that was so beautiful!” Patton cheered enthusiastically.

Remus’s eyes rolled up in what was probably an exaggerated expression and not a medical condition, and they clapped their hands together pointedly. Patton hesitantly mimicked the motion, and then more confidently when Remus visibly perked up. Eventually, he was using all three sets of hands for maximum clapping.

Logan and Roman followed suit, clapping to congratulating the abrupt performance while whispering about the implications of it between each other. Remus folded over in a deep bow that was probably an accepting gesture, and then took a deep breath.

As they launched into another song, all three aliens fixated on them, one of the two humans at the other end of the table smacked a palm against their face, utterly exasperated.

#sanders sides #g/t #ts remus #ts logan #ts patton #ts janus #ts virgil #ts roman #nawts #not always what they seem #alien au #writing #my writing #mind the warnings

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totiredtowrite · 3 years ago

Text

"ＴｈｅＲｅｖｅｒｅｎｄ"

Warnings - Religious themes

Note: Lowkey hate the minimalist pic for this one bc it's not how I think kita would look but whatever yk. This didn't feel very wild west-y, lowkey hate the fic too 🤨

FEM READERS (SHE/HER, SHE/THEY), DO NOT INTERACT

/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

There are two sides to every coin.

This town is no exception. Tourists, visiting family or friends, people who just stop through, they only get one side of it. They get the kind people with bright eyes and even brighter smiles. They get the easygoing townsfolk who have absolutely nothing weird going on under the surface.

The reverend, on the other hand, gets the other side of that coin.

The church was put together. Well taken care of, cleaned regularly, polished and bright. The townsfolk, (aside from a few stragglers), came in on Sundays for the regular sermon, then they'd leave. Occasionally a funeral would be held there.

Of course, that wasn't all that happened. In fact it was far from it. Kita, working in arguably the most energy filled place in the whole damn town, has witnessed multiple things he wouldn't begin to explain. Birds who looked a little too human, whispering in the steeple, oddly quiet older women and men during Sunday service who he never sees again. He'd considered finding someone to work alongside him, though nobody was very willing.

At this point, he's just gotten used to it. And he's gotten used to you.

Hearing your voice in his head, seeing you prowling around his dreams, watching you occasionally lurk in the halls. Hell, he'll even say something back to you if your constant comments in his head about his 'stupid cross' got too annoying.

Not to say that he knows what you are though. What your name is, where you came from, if you're good or evil. He's just settled on neutral, much like an anarchist who would come through to say something about the church.

When it all started, he almost thought he was being punished for something. That some wayfaring god had sent you to torment him for the multitude of sins he's gathered during his day. Though, the longer it went on, the clearer it became that you were no lackey.

Tonight though, he could tell something was different. He could tell the moment you didn't disappear as he approached. You just kept sitting in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

"What're ya doing here." He'd asked coldly. Kita hardly ever saw you. Usually you only showed in his dreams, or just as a disembodied voice in his head. When he did see you it was only for a couple seconds.

Your head shot up from the paper in your hands. (One that you clearly plucked from his desk). "Oh-! Hi father," you said, dragging out both of the words. Kita could already tell that this interaction was going to be hard to get through.

You, on the other hand, were elated. The cute human who you may or may not have a crush on is standing less than fifteen feet away from you, and you weren't booted back into the veil! Maybe today you could actually stay here.

Kita watched you pull your legs off of his desk, leaning forward to grip the edge of the chair visible between your thighs. The only reason why he wasn't startled or frozen at the moment was how...non threatening you looked to him. Maybe others would say otherwise, but he's seen you enough in his dreams or out of the corner of his eyes to be fine.

The abnormally large bat shaped ears jutting out from the sides of your head shifted with every expression you made, reflecting whatever you said. Two small horns, one larger than the other, grew out of your forehead. Aside from that and your weirdly glowy (e/c) eyes, you looked more human than he thought you'd be. Still, he could just feel that you weren't.

"Well," he sighed and leaned against the doorway. "Is there something you needed, demon?"

You gasped in faux offense, chuckling shortly after. "I'm not a demon, father," you rolled your eyes. "I'm more...meta human." You gave him a toothy smile.

His look didn't falter.

"Right," you deflated at his lack of interest in your antics, dragging out the word. "I jus' wanted to see you."

That caught him off guard, his hand instinctively reaching to the cross strung around his neck. "For what reason," he started slowly.

"Mm I dunno," you gave him another insufferable smile, "Maybe I jus' really like cute humans with grey hair."

He still looked far from impressed. "Well, leave," he said.

You looked shocked for a moment. You knew he was blunt but you didn't think he would just straight up tell you to leave. You shuffled awkwardly in his chair. "You don' wanna learn about me? N'my kind n stuff," you nervously trailed off.

He sighed heavily, dragging his large, well worked hand through his cropped hair. "No, I do not. Unless you've got something important to tell me, or show me, I do not need you here."

Your ears drooped a bit. You don't know why you thought this would actually go anywhere. The longer you watched him, the more you built up this image of how it would be in your head. You'd meet, he'd fall head over heels for you, you'd be 'stuck' in this realm, an adventure would ensue, and eventually it'd end with you staying and getting married to him.

Childish, sure. Childish and rather stupid, but oh well right? As it turns out, you were far less charming to him than he was to you.

He turned to leave. He hadn't anything important to do in his office anyways, though now he just wanted to head home. "Wait!" You called.

Kita could make out the sound of his chair being pushed out as you stood up. He paused, giving you a brief invitation to say what you wanted to say. "Can you just give me a chance! Please? I'll be good, promise," you nervously tugged on your larger horn.

He looked down, eyes closing. "A chance for what."

You ignored how it sounded more like a demand than a question. "I dunno! Just hangin around? I'll even work at the church! Just let me stay with you, only for a week!"

He perked up at your offer to work at the church. Turning around, he finally looked you dead in the eye. "Only if you work."

A smile split your face, head nodding up and down feverishly.

No way in hell was this a good idea, but at least he could keep an eye on you.

Do not repost, translate, or copy my work on to other platforms.

#kinda hate this but whatever #hq x male reader #m!reader #anime x male reader #x male reader #male reader #haikyuu x male reader #kita shinsuke x male reader #kita x male reader

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lanland04moure · 3 years ago

Text

미안해 •| ᶜʰᵒᶤ ʸᵉᵒⁿʲᵘⁿ |• [ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ⁵ ] αlтєяηαтινє ƒιηαl

Very long text, the end of a series

1 2 3 4

we тaĸe ιт ғroм нere;

The door burst open giving way to the rushing sounds caused by the boys entering the room. I took a seat on the bed and they were all there.

Taehyun was the first to speak.

—They've found them. They've been put to safety.— He paused unnecessarily, should I celebrate? You were safe now.

—Yeonjun was not with them.— Soobin's words broke my heart again.

•×•

I woke up, not sure what was going on, without moving I managed to look around, the building collapsed on top of us. Could we die here, would they find us?

I have no idea how much time has passed or if they are even looking for us. I try to stand up. But a great pain in my left shoulder stops me.

It hurts a lot.

I don't remember where I am in the building and it's killing me that I left those girls alone and now we are in this situation. I try again, this time slower. Pain travels up and down my back but this time I don't stop.

I glance around again and remember that it was just that that got me into this mess.

A column. A column was what kept me from being crushed to death. I see no way out, everything is collapsed, I'm trapped.

I need to get out, I need to get out of here, I need you.

I move around the place looking for a way out. There must be a way, there must be a way out.

Please wait, I'm on my way to you.

•×•

We left the apartment immersed in a silence that was not normal for us. Especially the guys.

We were all willing to check on our own if it was true that you were not among those who were rescued.

Because if it was true, if you were not there, where were you? Where did you go?

I needed to convince the rescuers to look some more.

Please hang in there!

The rescue teams are already leaving the site by the time we arrive. It's over for them. They found most of the victims, that's all that matters to them.

For them the testimonies of these girls who claim that you saved them were not enough. I see them crying, I see them begging you to continue the search. They cry for you, they are worried about you. And that's enough for me to take their word for it.

But they don't really care.

They insist, they claim that you are there, they claim that it was you who saved their lives.

Where are you Choi Yeonjun?

I don't want to give you up for lost. I don't want to think that I have lost you. I don't want to get the idea that I lost you.

If they don't look for you, I will. I'm going to get you out of there.

I made sure that no one was watching me, that everyone was distracted so I could sneak through the concrete debris. Not far from where I was entering, the television stations were interviewing the rescued women.

A group of trainees and stylists from the agency.

They asked them the same questions, made them repeat their story over and over again. But they still didn't believe a word of it.

But I do, I really believe them.

My heart knows they are not lying. Whatever happens I will rescue you.

"He was there, I can swear it. He was the one who saved our lives".

"He saved us, he was willing to give his life for ours."

"I owe him my life, that's why I refuse to end the search. He is out there somewhere."

Once upstairs I heard my name being called. I didn't turn around though. Nothing would stop me. I would get to you.

But Kai's screams were getting louder and louder. Which would draw attention. I had to be quick, I had to keep them from reaching me.

—Noona what are you doing? Noona you're going to hurt yourself!— Seeing that I wasn't going to stop Heuning carefully climbed up after me. All the while wailing.—My hyungs are going to be upset.—

—Noona is going to get hurt, but she doesn't care.—

—Soobin Hyung is going to lose his mind when he notices Noona is gone.— Lost in his words we made it to the top of that huge concrete mountain, there were so many places to start looking.

You could be anywhere. They swear you helped them so we have to find you.

We can't give up.

We split up and started moving and searching through the rocks. We will find you, don't worry.

After about 20 minutes a distant scream caught my attention.

They were calling me, was it you? I stood still with the intention of listening clearly. But it wasn't you and it wasn't just me they were looking for.

The boys had already noticed our absence.

I tried to ignore them, tried to silence them in my mind. But I found it impossible the boys were insistent and I knew Kai wouldn't ignore them.

—Min where are you?—

—Heuningkai where did you go?—

—Hyuka!!!—

—Min!!!—

I still continued my search. If the rescuers quit, we wouldn't. At least I haven't

—Huyng!!! Hyung!!!—

—Heuning damn it! What are you doing up there?—Beomgyu's shout echoed through the place.

—I went up following Noona.—

—What?!!! MIN IS UP THERE?!!!—The unmistakable voice of Soobin reached my ears. After his shout all was silence again.

I continued my search, the concrete pieces were heavy, too heavy to tell the truth. But it didn't matter because I just wanted to get to your side.

I felt in my heart something that told me we were close. We were close to you. I leaned down again to move another rock when something abruptly brought me back to my full height.

—Are you crazy? What do you think you can do up here alone? You're only going to hurt yourself!—he was clearly angry and about to lose his mind.

•×•

I was worried about you, how ironic isn't it? I'm the one at risk of being buried to death, but I still can't be selfish, I can't think only of myself. Every minute here I was flooded with worry about how you were doing.

The more time passed, the more it became a torture to keep my eyes open for long periods of time. I was resigned to the fact that I would never get out of here.

Time seemed to move so slowly that it made me think about the probability that maybe I was already dead, but it was not possible, how did I know?

Because of the pain. I once heard that it was pain that made us human or something like that. Because of that and the immense pain that spread through my body I knew I was still alive.

But what I wasn't sure yet was if I would still be alive to remind you how much I love you.

What did we do to deserve this, is it some kind of lesson to make you value what you have and those who are with you, is it some kind of punishment? Thousands of questions come to me in the moment, but so does your image.

Your smile.

It was your smile that made me fix my eyes on you, did I ever tell you that?

Your smile was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and of course it still is. That was the first time I saw you.

It was right after our debut.

Soobin was very tired and looked sick, but he wouldn't admit it. One day just like that you appeared in our practice room, carrying some lunch boxes with you.

Beomgyu immediately stood up to help you and Soobin pulled you to him in a tight embrace. His face and yours glowed with happiness as you were in each other's arms. And something stirred inside me.

It turned out that you brought some snacks for everyone, soobin bragged that you were the best cook. I can't deny it, your food was delicious.

Remembering that day I had an immense craving for that rich food that was your favorite, something typical of your city. Some time later it became mine too.

•×•

One by one each of the boys came up behind us.

Soobin was still upset, but I knew he would help us, he would support us. We would find you, we would.

We basically split into groups so we could move the rocks. About 20 minutes passed and there was definitely no trace of you.

Come on Jun, you can't do this to us.

Time went by and little by little more people joined our search. The girls you rescued, agency staff. Even MOA was coming from different parts of the city to help us find you, we all wanted you back.

The authorities were completely opposed to what we were doing, because there was a possibility that someone would suffer some kind of injury. But we didn't care.

More MOA's slowly arrived to help. Girls who had taken a train, or taken a plane ride to help find their idol. I would love for you to see the love everyone is showing you right now.

Why wouldn't we let you, wouldn't we.

The newsreels were all about filming us. They were broadcasting us for hours, broadcasting as much as they could of our search work.

In the headline you could clearly read ;

THEY ARE THOSE WHO STILL HAVE HOPE

And boy, did we have hope.

No one was giving up. We are fighting for you. Hours went by, endless hours in the sun. And now I was really losing hope. We had moved tons of debris and nothing to show for it.

Should we resign ourselves?

I took a moment. A moment to admire all these people who took the risk of joining our search. What will happen will happen. Whether we found you or not, I was going to be eternally grateful for it. Maybe it was time to take a break. Or maybe it was time to give up and stop.

The sun was killing me.

The heat was intense and the glint of something was burning in my eyes. I covered them for a moment, it was bugging me.

Where was it coming from?

I slowly withdrew my hand and looked around for it. I couldn't believe it. It had to be. It had to be. It was your watch.

Your watch was barely peeking through the rubble.

—It's here, it's here."—

•×•

The more time passed the stronger the pressure I felt.

My heart ached so much, I ached so much from how much I missed you and the fear I felt about leaving you alone. I was desperate to get out. To come back to you.

My body slowly stopped responding, maybe because I was tired. Maybe because of the hunger I felt or maybe because of how damaged and hurt it was.

And just now that he was so close to freedom. It was a matter of minutes, a matter of moving a few more rocks. But it was impossible, I reached my limit. I saw the light, I saw the light of my freedom but everything went black.

I wish I could turn back time and not fight with you. Or failing that take Soobin's advice and stay with you the whole day.

•×•

Taehyun ran beside me as soon as he heard my screams.

We had finally found you!

In a matter of seconds there were dozens of hands moving and throwing the rocks in the area where you were. All treading cautiously but in a hurry to get you out of there as soon as possible.

I'm not going to lie to you. I was praying to God that you would be okay, that he wouldn't take you away from me. When we finally managed to get you out of that place, the paramedics snatched you from our arms.

They did not allow us to see you, they immediately transferred you to the nearest hospital, they had to make sure you were okay, that you were not hurt in any way.

I don't know how long we spent in the waiting room of that hospital, they didn't allow us to see you, they didn't want to give us any report.

We didn't know anything.

Was it so serious?

Doctors came in and out of your room non-stop, but they kept ignoring our pleas for information, it got to the point where they forbade the nurses to come near us.

And just like that, one day when we were still waiting for some details about your health condition, this girl came up to us.

It was a nurse, she asked me to accompany her, without hesitation I went after her.

She would take me to you.

You had woken up, after a week, you had woken up and the first thing you did was to ask for me.

•×•

I woke up once again.

I was alone and without further ado I began to remember everything I had experienced being trapped in the building.

A nurse came into the room, not once did she look at me.

—Park Min, I need to see Park Min.— The nurse left the room without giving me a word or even a small glance. Time marched on, but nothing was happening.

Or so I thought, because within seconds after my thought the door to the room opened again.

But this time it showed me someone totally different. This time it was your beautiful eyes peering out from the other side of that door.

You crept in. Neither of us uttered a word. Then you threw yourself weakly onto the gurney crying and with what little strength I had I clung to you even tighter.

I was afraid that we would be separated again. And now we would not be able to find our way back like this time.

—All the time I was so worried about you.—

—Why? It was you who was stuck in that place, you should have left that for us. I was so scared I'd never see you again, that we'd get separated like that after that stupid fight.—

—I was worried about getting to leave you alone, I knew you'd be scared and I was so mad at me for turning down that dinner the other night.—

—That's in the past, let's try to forget about it. We're here together now.—

—Please never forget how much I love you.—

#yeonjun x reader #yeonjun txt #txt #txt imagines #txt oneshots #tomorrow x together #txt drabbles #txt scenarios #choi yeonjun #txt yeonjun #txt choi yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun oneshot #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun #yeonjun tomorrow x together #yeonjun x you

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delwrites · 4 years ago

Note

hii! soo i saw you want to get back into writing and i thought maybe this would be interesting:)) (i imagined a sirius x reader one but change it however you'd like <3) in the marauders era y/n goes out at full moon with the guys for the first time and she gets hurt by remus and sirius and the reader has a fight afterward then make up and a whole bunch of fluff. i'd be delighted to read it, hope you consider it!

kisses <3

Sirius Black x Reader

word count: 2,990 (very long I know and I apologise)

feedback and criticism fully welcomed!

As you were slowly waking up, you felt the grogginess settle into your half asleep form. Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you begin to feel an uncomfortable feeling of wetness on your cheek. After a battle with yourself, you open your eyes, only to be met with black fur.

Well that isn’t normal.

Before having the chance to internally fight with yourself, weigh out the realness of the situation and come up with any valuable solutions, you immediately start flapping your arms, trying to fight this unknown creature that wasn’t seeming all too harmful.

Then you realised. The creature stumbled back out of shock, and when those all too familiar pools of grey drown out all of your initially frightened thoughts, you realise that this was no creature.

Trying to apologise (but it all just comes out as incoherent babble), you back up against the headboard of your bed, trying to get away in case you had caused any real damage, until you heard the silky sound of laughter. His laughter.

Sirius Black. A man of many talents, one of them being the fact that he is an animagus. It really wasn’t the most pleasant thing, waking up to a large, terrifying and unknown animal, but knowing it was Sirius soothed your nerves immensely.

The truth is, you’d been loving the man from afar for a while now, but had never decided to make a move on it, as you had persuaded yourself that those feelings could never be reciprocated.

If only you’d have known that he was the one who had been staring at you when you weren’t looking, the one who had stayed up all night longing for your touch, being excited to see your face the next day.

As he turned back human, you realised how close your faces were, both breathing rather heavily and staring into each other’s eyes. You could’ve sworn you heard his breath catch in his throat and you became slightly dizzy, it was almost as if he was leaning in.

And then he gasped, eyes widening, and leaned back, the dopey look returning to his face.

“Full moon tonight!” He practically screamed in your face, already extremely hyper, even though he had just woken up. He had clasped his hands together, rubbing them in excitement. He had always seemed to be happy whilst around you, and it always put you in a good mood.

“Hey, why don’t you come?” He beams at you, rocking on the heels of his feet.

“Oh, no- I.. I don’t think I should..” you stumble, feeling your cheeks burning with the previous events, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, his lips so close to that of your own, his sparkling eyes only a mere distance from yours.

“Oh come on, it’ll be better if you're there! Come support Remus, please?” He gives you the puppy eyes that he knows you can’t resist, and you let out a big sigh, chuckling under your breath.

“Fine... but only for Remus.”

He laughs, persuading you to laugh along with him, his smile shimmering up making his features bright.

“Well, better get ready then! Oh, and meet us at the lake after dinner” he says, a certain mischievous glint in his eye that you could never live without. He tumbled out of your bed, gave you a two finger wave, and ran out.

As soon as you know he’s out of sight, you heave out a sigh, holding your chest. Little did you know, on the other side of the door that Sirius was doing exactly the same thing, an unnoticed tint of blush on his cheeks, idiotic grin painting his plush lips.

You had just excused yourself from dinner and had started making your way to the lake when James ran after you, shouting your name. Stopping for him, you spin on your heels and see him trying to wave you down. You smile at him, and he comes to walk beside you, already wiggling his eyebrows at you.

James had (very much regrettably) found out about your crush on Sirius- and of course James knew that Sirius liked you back, and would be secretly trying to set you both up with each other, telling them that he is sure the other likes them back. James had practically guessed, which utterly astounded you, but one day he caught you staring at Sirius, and when he brang it up, it made you blush harshly, so he came to his own conclusions.

You were severely surprised that he had managed to keep it a secret, and it did feel nice admitting it aloud, your crush on one of your closest friends. Every time James would speak to you, he’d tease you over it, but deep down you loved how he could joke about it with you.

Sky becoming inky, you and James arrived at the lake, only to see Sirius and Remus mumbling about something, and if only you could’ve seen the rosy tint on Sirius’ cheeks, but alas due to the very vast light that the sky emitted, you did not.

He did, however, look breathtaking here, in the moonlight. And his thoughts mimicked your own, only about you instead. You had unintentionally both been staring at each other for a solid half a minute in silence, until James and Remus share a very knowing look, and James smirks at him before Remus clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

You slightly jump back, cheeks flaming (as has now become the usual when around sirius), and give a sheepish smile in remus’ direction.

And then remus starts to transform. Obviously, you knew about this, but seeing it actually happen, the switch in him, it terrified you. You subconsciously moved much closer to Sirius, grabbing his wrist in the process.

It had all happened so quickly, you were just too slow. Remus was no longer remus.

You didn’t know how you, James and Sirius had all stayed with Remus, trying to get him to calm down, trying to find the real Remus in this different body, but nothing had seemed to work.

The claws were horrifically sharp, piercing the skin on your arm and leaving an unbearable sting behind. A strangled noise came out from deep in your throat, and Sirius grabbed your hand, squeezing it to let you know without having to say that he was there. James gasped, and shouted at you all to run, but Sirius started arguing with him, not wanting to leave Remus behind.

Quietly, you mumble a sorry out to Sirius and let go of his hand, grabbing james’ hand instead and running off with him.

Tears had been welling up in your eyes since Remus had scratched up your arm, but we’re now flowing freely since you had left Sirius behind.

James squeezed your hand comfortingly- much alike sirius had done mere minutes ago- the moment he had heard the sobs uncontrollably leaving your body as you ran with him.

The Potter boy had dropped you off at the hospital wing, leaving to get Sirius, and leaving you to get your arm fixed up and sleep on the lumpy mattress.

Waking up, your head felt heavy, and it took a lot of energy in you just to open up your eyes. Slowly peeling them open, you see James sitting next to your bed, pitifully smiling at you. You frantically look at your arm, not feeling the extremely unpleasant stinging that you had felt hours prior, but to see mere scars. Madam Pomfrey really did work magic.

She had dismissed you very quickly, claiming that you were now fine and shouldn’t need any more help from her. You quickly made your way to find Sirius, scared he had gotten hurt, ignoring james’ shouts at you to slow down. Upon entering the gryffindor common room, your eyes scan around, looking for the mop of black hair.

While James shouts still behind you, you run up to the boys' common rooms, bursting in to find Sirius laying on his bed, eyes fixated on the ceiling with Remus asleep in the bed next to him. Sirius turns his body to the door, looking to see what had made all the noise of bursting into his room, but upon seeing it’s you, scoffs softly and lays back down, eyes finding their way back to the ceiling.

You let out a soft sigh, not willing to put up with his childish behaviour at the moment.

“Sirius,” you start as softly as your voice will let you, trying to let no annoyance come through,

“Will you please come talk to me? In private?” you question, referring to remus’ sleeping form, so peaceful compared to last night.

Letting out an over-the-top sigh like the drama queen he is, he rolls out of his bed and follows you out of the room and back to the common room.

“So?” He starts aggressively, he shrugs, refusing to make eye contact with you.

Pacing around the room, you frown and bite your lip, wanting to be delicate as possible, seeing as this was his best friend you were talking about.

“Sirius... it’s remus. He really hurt me last night..”

“Well, what did you expect from a werewolf? It isn’t his fault, you know. That wasn’t him.”

You sigh, bringing your fingers up to your temples.

“Listen, you’re being over-dramatic. You’re not hurt anymore, no? Hasn’t madam pomfrey healed you and what not?” He says, sitting down on one of the sofas.

“Well, no, not anymore, but-“

“Then leave it.” He cuts you off, clearly annoyed.

“Just like you left me...” he mumbles under his breath, and your ears have to strain to catch it. The image of you and James had been playing in his mind, running off together with fingers interlocked, and he did not like it.

You start to show your annoyance now, voicing your thoughts.

“Sirius, why are you being like this?” Sighing, you cross your arms, standing on the floor in front of him and giving him a look that you’d expect a naughty toddler to receive.

“Like what?” He mumbles defensively, finally dignifying you with a glance in your direction.

“You’re acting like a toddler having a tantrum because they didn’t get the toy they wanted! Remus hurt me, he’s dangerous when he’s in that state, and I know that he’s your friend, but can’t you see that he needs serious help? He could end up killing someone! He could’ve killed you!” By this point, tears are streaming down your face, not that you had noticed as it had become distorted with fury.

“Why on earth are you crying over this! If I’m the drama queen here, then I’d love to know what you are! Jesus Christ y/n, you’re so dumb!” You couldn’t lie, that did sting a bit.

“No wonder you’re always clinging to us, we’re your only friends!” When he said that, it was as if time had stopped, as if the world had stopped turning.

As his words hung in the air, really settled and processed through both of your minds, your tears had stopped flowing, and his eyes had blown wide.

It had been a metaphorical slap to the face. And those words were all you needed to let out a huff, face only showing a somewhat calm emotion, one that mimicked disappointment, a tinge of disdain and disgust as you lowered your head, walking back to your room.

Sirius wished you would’ve screamed in his face, shouted about how outrageous his words were, but alas you hadn’t. You had been mature enough to not make any smart remarks, make the situation worse, no. You were smarter than Sirius, he had concluded. He couldn’t bare to think that he was the reason that look was on your face, the reason you were sobbing mere moments before, the reason that his heart was currently in an unbearable, searing pain.

He knew that he had definitely taken it too far, but he hated it when people judged his best friend due to something that just wasn’t his fault. The amount of sleepless nights that Sirius had spent hugging Remus as he was upset with something that he felt helpless about, something that they both knew he couldn't control.

Sirius hated this. It felt like he was choosing between yourself and remus, which was the last thing he wanted to do.

That night, Sirius spent a majority of it wallowing in his own thoughts, trying to imagine up different ways to apologise to you. It was times like these when it hurt most that he couldn't go to his family for advice.

The next morning, Sirius drags himself out of bed, trudging to the great hall, dark circles painting his under eyes. He simultaneously did and didn’t want to see you.

Yet seeing you in a similar state to him, a scowl adorning your features, expression so glum compared to the stoic look that usually engulfed your face, wordlessly telling anyone that crossed your path to not press your temper, hair disheveled, eyes droopy and heavy, it almost made a kind of strange confidence surge over him, seeing as you had had the same sort of night as he had.

And yet it made his heart wrench.

Making his way over to you, he tries his hardest to give you the brightest beam he can muster, but it just comes out as a bittersweet and sheepish smile. You stay staring dead on, puffy eyes holding so much exhaustion. Refusing to make eye-contact, you look at your fingers twisting around one another and fiddling with each other, a habit you had picked up to help with situations like these. As he steps closer to you, he presses a warm hand to your shoulder, calloused palm making contact with your robes in a comforting way. He won’t stop looking at your face, trying to find your usually shining eyes that seemed far too dim for his liking on this particular day. He’d never noticed it before, how much your mere presence soothed him.

He had never been good with words, let alone apologies. But he would try for you.

“Listen, y/n… I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just… people always see Remus as a villain, as the enemy for something that he was born with and I just-“ he stops to sigh, clearly struggling with where to go with it. You place your hand over his one that stayed stroking your shoulder, delicately rubbing his knuckles.

It may have been a small movement, but it was one that meant all the world to Sirius.

“I’m sorry too. And listen… I understand why you’d be so protective of Remus. But know that you don’t need to protect him from me. I want the world for Remus.”

He smiled a very soft smile, eyes slightly wrinkling at the edges, and you reciprocated it, finally looking him in the eyes.

“I know, but nothing can justify what I said yesterday. I know it’s only been one night but.. I-“ he didn’t know how to phrase it, it was so obvious how carefully he was thinking about his next words, which slightly scared you.

“It was horrible knowing that I had been the one to make you upset. Please, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I mean it would be wonderful but that’s not why I’m apologising. I just want to acknowledge that what I said was wrong and that-“

You couldn’t help it, but you had to laugh. At first, Sirius was terrified, taking his hand off of your shoulder, thinking it was a sarcastic one, that you’d laughed in his face and was about to shout, but it was a genuine, happy laugh. Well, as happy as this circumstance could allow.

Upon seeing his confused features, furrowed brow and frowning lips, you try to explain.

“I’m sorry but, since when do you speak like that?” You laugh again, and it makes Sirius think he’s said something wrong.

“How long did it take you to come up with that?” You tease, poking his side lightly and it makes a small but impactful smile join yours in a beautiful harmony that anyone would’ve been privileged to witness.

“I was up pretty much all night thinking about that one..” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You let out another small chuckle and you both feel a strong tension release, a relief that both of you are glad has accompanied the conversation.

“Well, it worked.” You give him the most genuine smile your face has ever made, and he brings you into a tight embrace, mumbling incoherent apologies into your ear and stroking your hair.

“Y/n?” He pulls away slightly from you, enough to look you in the eye but not enough to not be touching you.

“Yes?” It comes out as an almost embarrassing whisper, so small and delicate. Your faces are so close, your breath mingling together and eyes boring into one another.

“May I?” He poses it as a question, eyes travelling down ever so slightly to be focused on your lips, before coming back up to your eyes.

“Please.” It was all he needed. You didn’t care about the desperation that had adorned your voice, you didn’t care about the previous events, and you didn’t care what may happen after it. You just allowed yourself to be kissed, he grabbed your face making sparks fly and electricity shock your senses making you feel both on fire and underwater, a truly magical feeling that you never wanted to stop.

As he pulled away, he placed his forehead to yours. The silence around you, the still air in Hogwarts, it all went hand in hand with this moment.

This was all that either of you had ever wanted. And no one could take it away from you.

#sirius black x reader #sirius x you #sirius black #james potter x reader #james potter #harry potter x reader #mauraders #marauders era #marauders x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #sirius black imagine

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izzabeean · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 6 : Taking Care

SUMMARY

It's all about timing.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,194

content : profanity, references to alcohol, slightly suggestive nsfw

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : I’m sorry if the chapter seems rushed! I’m just very eager with what I have in store. Ahaha, I still hope you like it!! Also, PS, kinda just proof read it once.

Will try to post every Thursday evening PST, if not latest by Friday.

masterlist

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The rest of the night feels like a blur, you feel like your head is barely in it, as the high from the cigarette mixes with the alcohol. All the fear from before dissipates quickly and the next thing you know you’re not standing in a dark alley, but slumped over in the booth of a grungy dinner.

You don’t recall the walk over, only the feeling of Iwaizumi’s arm wrapped around your waist, guiding you down the street away from the nightclub. The warmth of his touch still lingers and you wish the walk was longer so you could have him next to you; he made you feel safe and calm.

The daydream is quickly interrupted by the strong ache in your wrist that not even the alcohol can suppress. You're still trying to process what just happened in your earlier encounter, but find yourself wishing you hadn’t gone out at all.

Despite the beginning of the evening being enjoyable, you were left with a feeling of disappointment, mostly in yourself, you’ve never actually been someone to go out or drink copious amounts of alcohol to the point you couldn’t walk on your own. That wasn’t you. But you did feel the need to reevaluate your morals and put them to a pause to post an image merely for the fact of saying fuck you to Ushijima. Your intentions weren’t necessarily a positive one: to go out with friends and take your mind off things. It was more like: go out with friends and forget the ingrained image of Ushijima and his new side piece.

“Oikawa should be here soon,” Iwaizumi says, pushing a glass of water towards you.

You huff as the server comes over to your table, placing down a plate of fries in front of you and a burger in front of Iwaizumi.

“I didn’t order this,” you address.

“I did for you,” Iwaizumi booms, sliding the basket closer to you while thanking the employee who looks like they’ve dealt with too many annoying customers including you. “Drink your water.”

“Why?” you whine, pouting your lips at him.

“You’re dehydrated,” he explains. “Don’t fight me on this.”

You get it, you’re being taken care of, but he’s already done enough, but you don’t know why you’re here when he could’ve just taken you home.

The bell from the diners door opening echoes across the restaurant as you spot a panicked Oikawa rushing in towards your booth. He stands there gazing down at you, exhaling deeply with an apprehensive look on his face. You've never seen him this way before; today has definitely been a whirlwind.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Oikawa gazes down below studying your behavior recognizing you’ve definitely had one too many.

“Some creep tried to pick her up outside in the alley,” Iwaizumi says.

“What? Why were you outside?” Oikawa’s eyes grow wide as you blink at him slowly trying to register the words he spoke.

“It was too hot,” you groan, dropping your head into your arms crossed on the table, closing your eyes. You're tired and ready to sleep feeling the effects of the alcohol come to play.

Oikawa sighs, “I better take her home.”

"I'll call a cab," Iwaizumi says getting up from the booth to cover the tab.

Oikawa scooches into the booth beside you noting that you seem a bit distraught with your brows furrowed and messy hair covering your face, almost like you’re trying to take back the excessive consumption of shots. Slowly he leans over, reaching for your hair to tuck it behind your ear.

The tips of his fingers gently graze your face as the all too familiar gesture causes you to believe you must be dreaming.

Wakkun? you think. But it can’t be.

Your eyes shoot open to see it's just Oikawa. You definitely drank too much.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" He says pulling his hand away while his cheeks slowly appear rosy.

"No," you reply, closing your eyes and turning your head away from him.

------

You wanted to say no, but your slightly fuzzy head delayed your reaction and soon Iwaizumi was walking away in the opposite direction as the cab pulled into the street driving away.

Beside you, Oikawa sits looking out the window and the taste of regret fills your mouth as you spite yourself for not asking Iwaizumi to bring you home.

Oikawa, take her home, echoes in your mind as Iwaizumi bids farewell. You wanted him to take care of you but instead, you were stuck with Oikawa who wouldn't even answer your call when you needed him.

Oikawa’s heart clenches as you silently sit beside him looking out the window. The silence in the vehicle is slightly awkward but the hum of the radio buzzes in the background giving the atmosphere some white noise.

He fucked up. He made you drink too much and now you're mad at him. Maybe he can make up for it by taking care of you. Luckily the drive wasn't too far from the diner or this car ride would have seemed longer.

Arriving at your apartment, Oikawa practically has to drag you out in order to get you moving at a reasonable pace. He wasn't your level of intoxication but he definitely had a good buzz going, enough to help him edge off the irritation coursing through him with your cold shoulder attitude

As you walk towards the building, the crisp air bites you through your clothing as your exhale curls and condenses into the atmosphere in front of you. The sudden craving for a smoke fills your senses and your mind is put at ease as you imagine the flavor of toxins and liquor coating your lips.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa mumbles, barely audible to the human ear.

“What?” you ask and without noticing where you’re walking, stumble off the curb landing awkwardly on your foot. Oikawa reacts quickly and catches you in his arms before you take the tumble to the ground.

“Fuck,” you grunt.

“Are you ok?” Oikawa asks.

You put weight on your foot, feeling no sign of severe pain then nod your head, “Yeah, I can walk.”

Oikawa let’s go and you continue down the walkway to the staircase with a bit of a limp. The stairs you climb every day seem timid and easy to bear with but as you place all your weight on your injured foot, a surge of aching shoots up your leg making the climb seemingly more unpleasant.

“Are you sure?” he questions.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you reassure.

But by the fact you stuttered on your word, he doesn’t believe you. With a sigh, he crouches down beside you. “Get on.”

You can't believe what you're seeing in front of you and hesitate at the request.

"We going to be here all night? Get on," he snaps.

It's not quite something you want to do right now, being a bit bitter still. But from the exhaustion and intoxication you feel, you don’t have the energy to argue and crawl onto his back wrapping your arms around his neck. He tucks his arms under your thighs and stands up continuing to walk.

“Sorry if I didn’t answer your calls,” he says clearing his throat. His words are serious like he means it. “I’m also sorry about Ushijima.”

You squeeze Oikawa tighter at the sound of Ushijima’s name, it stings.

You’re well aware that Oikawa isn’t a fan of Ushijima, no matter how many times you tried to convince Oikawa otherwise, he was too stubborn to change his opinion. Maybe there was a reason why, you could ask him, but you weren’t ready for the answer. You appreciate the illusion you had created in your head of Ushijima, even if it was slightly broken.

“You deserve so much better,” he adds.

Strange, you think, normally he’s not as pushy to talk to you about this sort of stuff, but maybe he actually was worried, maybe he did want to make things better and help you.

“Thanks...”

Reaching your apartment door, Oikawa sets you down as you fumble for your keys in your purse. Inside it is dark and empty, you haven’t been back since the beginning of the day and the aura feels absolutely depressing.

He pauses before walking in, it had been so long since he last was here.

You continue down the hall stumbling into your room where you flop onto your bed, too tired to change; it’s been a long night, and you didn’t want to think about how you were going to feel in the morning.

Walking into your room, it’s messier than he imagined, compared to how organized you are with school, this feels like he was walking into your personal space, one you didn’t show to very many people from the start.

Stepping in further, Oikawa turns his head seeing a picture of Ushijima and you sitting on your desk. You looked so happy with your arms wrapped around Ushijima’s neck and his arms wrapped around your waist. The image didn’t sit well with him, especially after Ushijima’s betrayal, but Oikawa wasn’t very surprised. He couldn’t understand why he felt much more relieved due to Ushijima being out of your life. Perhaps it was because he now had ample opportunities to spend time with you, almost as if you coming to him for comfort was the only thing he wanted from the start.

Then a loud thump causes Oikawa to turn around noticing you're not on the bed anymore.

“What are you doing?” He shrills rushing to your side to pull you back up.

"Ouch," you cry holding your wrist while tears starting to form in your eyes. “Ice! Please!”

"O-okay, hold on," Oikawa urges while getting up.

You're still sitting on the ground trying to ignore the pain but it just feels never-ending. Oikawa’s not gone long, but it feels like forever.

"Here," he says, taking a seat on the ground and slowly rests the bag of ice wrapped in a towel on your wrist.

He’s close. You've never seen him this close before. Undoubtedly, he’s handsome just based on the amount of attention he acquires from other girls, but this is different. You’ve never noticed how beautiful he was. His long lashes, the curtains to his opalescent eyes. His creamy complexion radiating under the moon-lit bedroom.

Oikawa looks up studying the distress in your face. "Is it helping?"

“Y-yes, thank you,” you croak. The relief is uncanny, but you can’t take your eyes off how breath-taking he is.

Oikawa looks up at you and meets your gaze only inches away from each other.

“What?” he says. “Do I have something on my face?”

You let out a laugh which only half-heartedly reassures him as he wipes his face with his shoulder. “You’re fine, you’re fine!” you assure.

Giving you a pout he leans back away from you as you take over applying the ice to your wrist.

A few minutes pass as you look up at the ceiling observing the soft city lights spilling through the curtains. You want to be impulsive and self-destructive at once. You desire to be out of this severe and prolonged fall into remorse.

“Tōru... Would you date me?"

You couldn’t believe you said it aloud, but you believe the liquid courage (that could've helped before) expressed your honest thoughts.

Oikawa scans you as you lean your back against your bed. The gleam in your eyes seems weaker like you were stuck in your thoughts and couldn’t find a way to get out.

The question is starling. Of course, you’d always been friends, but when he first met you, he did think you were pretty cute. He wants to say it, but he’s worried his words will come out too strong. But he thinks in your state, maybe you won’t remember tomorrow. All he wishes is that he could take all the pain away from you, he just didn’t know how. He couldn't articulate it in words.

“Who wouldn't want to?” he asks.

"Ushijima,” you mumble. The words are dry and heartbreaking.

Oikawa's mouth opens at your confession, but no words come out.

You painfully laugh at the sight. “It’s alright. I know there’s nothing you can say.”

That’s right, there’s nothing he can say that will help mend your broken heart and it made him feel absolutely helpless.

“This is never how I thought things were supposed to go,” you add. “Honestly, it’s kinda fucked up how he just did that out of nowhere. And I don’t want to hear you say ‘I told you so’ or ‘that’s something he’d do’ because he wouldn’t. Why does it matter anyway?”

You felt like you unloaded more than what you bargained for, but it’s been on your mind all day and you just needed to let it out.

“Of course it matters! What kind of shitty person do you have to be to break-up with you?” Oikawa feels his heart skip as the words leave his mouth, worried that your reaction will be to just get mad and throw something at him.

Instead, you just stare at him, wide-eyed pressing your lips together. You can feel yourself starting to sober up now. The comment gives you a warm feeling in your chest that seems incredibly unbearable. The tender caress of his words sends shivers down your spine. There was this unexplained comfort that you never knew you could feel from him.

"You need to rest now," Oikawa murmurs. “It’s getting late.”

Oikawa stands up reaching his hand out for you to grab it to lift you off the floor.

“Can you stay?” you breathe quietly. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He looks into your lost and lonely eyes, basically begging him to stay beside you. It felt criminal if he was going to leave you by yourself in this state.

Oikawa sighs. “Alright.”

On that note, you start to lift your shirt up.

"Whoa, Y/N," he chokes a bit on his words, startled you’re undressing in front of him and shelters his eyes.

“I didn’t ask you to look!”

He merely shakes his head while keeping his back to you. In any other situation, a girl would be undressing in front of him for other reasons, this time though, it's seemingly complicated. It seems you’re a little bit bolder when you’re drunk and he’s not going to lie to him, but he kind of likes it.

“Ok, you can turn around,” you announce.

Oikawa turns around and sees you tucked in bed, you pat the empty space beside you welcoming him to join. Taking off his jacket, he rests it on the chair tucked into your desk while keeping the rest of his clothes on. As he’s about to climb into bed, you stop him.

“Ew, not in those jeans,” you huff.

"Huh?" Oikawa replies.

"You sat in public places … took public transportation…. Just stay on your side of the bed but take them off," you argue.

Oikawa is getting mixed signals but realizes you just want him to be comfortable and turns away to take off his trousers. He climbs into the bed wearing his t-shirt and boxers.

The silence makes him feel like he’s drowning as he becomes hyper-fixated on the fact he’s lying next to you in your bed. As a matter of fact, he didn't know if he was even able to fall asleep. He watches you drift to sleep hearing your breathing deepen as your shoulders slowly rise and fall.

He is unable to decide where to go from here as his entire body shudders at how peaceful you looked.

------

You bury yourself deeper under the covers, not wanting to leave the warmth of your bed from a long night. Keeping your eyes closed you stretch your body and feel a figure pressed up behind you. You don’t move a muscle as the sound of deep breathing inhales and exhales.

As you slowly open your eyes you realize you are in your apartment, it’s morning and the heavy breather beside you must be Ushijima. Quietly, you relish in the feel of his solid and warm body, trying to readjust, moving your hips a little. Then you feel his body press against your back. Before you can think too much about it, you roll your hips closer and against him. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and you want more.

You slowly move to adjust your back flush against him and you both lie there neither moving or speaking, only a desperate attempt at self-control. Then you notice his breathing isn’t heavy anymore. Neither of you speaks.

You slowly turn to give your routine ‘good morning’ kiss, but as you look over your shoulder, it takes you a second to register it’s Oikawa. His eyes are open and he’s looking right back at you.

You bolt upright in bed, hands covering your face in embarrassment. “What are you doing!!!”

“I could ask you the same thing!” he purrs.

There's a heavy silence between you, both of you seemingly frozen in place. You feel your cheeks start to warm as you avoid looking at him at all. You’re afraid to ask as your mind runs laps on what happened last, last night. You remember everything, but once you got home, you just remember passing out. “Did we...”

“Have sex?” Oikawa smirks. He keeps the answer from you for too long and it’s driving you insane. You felt in complete agony as he hummed giving your question some thought.

“I don’t believe so,” he turns around to go back to sleep.

Embarrassment strikes you again as you realize you are wearing a big t-shirt without a bra and your underwear and you slink away deeper into the covers. You feel horrified with your outburst and mumble, “Sorry…”

Oikawa is about to tease you a bit to lighten the mood but as he opens his mouth you interrupt, “I thought you were someone else…”

He freezes at your sudden confession.

“I--I thought you were Ushijima,” you quietly sob, as you recoil under the covers, even more, trying to make yourself small enough thinking you could perhaps disappear.

"Oh," he replies, looking to the window where the morning sun tries to trickle in through the closed curtain. Sitting up in bed, he stretches his arms out and swinging his legs out of bed. His feet hit the ground noticing it’s damp and cold.

“Y/N, is your place always this cold? ” he whines, lifting his feet up and noticing it make a tiny splash as he lets it back down. His eyes flash open seeing a very low film of water trickling around your bed. He turns to you and violently shakes you away.

“What!” you groan.

“Did you leave the water running somewhere?”

Quickly you sit up, wondering if he’s messing with you again. And looks down at the floor seeing it coated in water.

“Fuck!” you get out of bed and look around to notice your entire apartment flooded. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x y/n

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

Note

Bts voice analysis anon here! I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to respond ❤ it made complete sense why yoongi is the deepest I kinda feel bad for him everytime he wants to sounds cheerful or speak in a way so people can hear him he strains his voice

lot to talk about, i’d like to expand on this. especially what his voice being the deepest means for bts’ songs. plus, where his undiscovered vocal talents are, and in what manner his voice will not strain.

that he’s very introverted contributes to what you say, but yoongi is certainly the odd one out voice-wise, such low baritones hardly sound upbeat. similar to how taehyung being the odd one out in the vocal line whose head voices are literal superpowers. i really respect him for singing with jin and jimin who can climb one octave higher than him, up to C#5! and with jk who has the best technique and breaks into the 6th octave if he goes on like that.

it’s very much like yoongi who probably has to mix their tracks back and forth to fit his parts with hobi (who is a tenor as a rapper! — very uncommon) and namjoon who raps in several modes. very low, very high, very impactfully. he’s the most full-bodied baritone in the group even if he’s only the third-deepest. the tone is just so rich. both hoseok and RM are extreme vocal chameleons on top of that. in speaking and in their music you can hear the difference to yoongi all the time. they don’t suddenly drop in pitch and they’re vocal acrobats.

hobi in particular, this guy can do anything. the sheer agility my god, he connects his registers. he can go up and down, impersonate and do a million effects, adlibs, you know the drill. it’s him who actually owns the “cheerful/loud and clear” brand you mention. which is good if not fantastic for yoongi’s production endeavours, the group mood, and how bts cannot be ignored — but tough for yoongi’s voice and comparison thinking, and when he tries to make a point in interviews. maybe it’s not bad that bts have to slow down sometimes to let yoongi speak, but his tone is drowned out (not intentionally of course) in other occasions and he wakes up hoarse often as we saw. which might sound hot, but it’s not good for him as you say.

to be clear. i wouldn’t chalk down his more monotonous and silent tone as a weakness, it’s just outside of bts’ other vocal variety. he makes up for it with speed and good lungs anyway. we just have to listen more closely to him in talks/episodes/conferences but i think he shouldn’t worry about it either or try to sound more enthusiastic, the fans love his soothing speech for its pure sake. he does change it regardless to be more poignant and blend in. it has pros and cons but it wears him out.

yoongi’s voice is under that strain not just in conversation but also in the studio if he wants to bring connection to the rap line parts instead of having 3 songs in 1. which usually ends up happening anyway. that’s also why the cyphers (!) switch genres mid-song so often: their voices are all strong in different registers! yoongi the lowest, joon midrange, and hoseok up high.

that’s why cypher pt2 is a HUGE stunt and production masterpiece: hoseok’s part is tuned differently, then other instrumentals start with namjoon. and you can literally hear, okay alright a deep voice is coming! from there it just gets deeper and deeper until yoongi is just rapping over a bass guitar (every baritone’s best friend lmao!). god, please give yoongi a big bassline for his every part. “ugh” is the exact opposite: yoongi has to start too high and namjoon also has problems with the key, only hoseok can fully take off after 1:50 with perfect vocal stability. guess which song is autotuned: it’s not cypher pt2! a 3 in 1 song fuels the rapline in a way where they are most comfortable. it’s crazy how far apart they are among each other vocally and it has to be considered.

it’s a dilemma but also why bts’ rap line can tackle any song with at least one member suiting it. they complement each other, every register (except the rare whistle register, aka what mariah/ariana do) is covered. i think that contributed to bts’ fame, it’s so important. however usually, the song caters to hoseok since tenors are preferred in kpop music, or it caters to RM as he’s the central songwriting entity even if mind you, he always thinks about all the members and works closely with yoongi.

but even with joon’s support, it doesn’t work if yoongi is caught in his wish to be a tenor. we’ve seen how much the guy talks about wanting his range to become wider and how he even tried singing quite high for his standards on d-2. he goes as far as collabing only with sopranos to help him achieve that pitch. yoongi is invested to pretty much change his entire vocal type 🙁because the environment simps for high notes so bad (which is fair, falsetto is related to releasing certain happy hormones and highlights parts in songs, but still).

... he actually can’t, unless he wants to damage his throat. that’s the last thing we want. a listener can get the serotonin from a very deep voice equally if they got good taste.

thing is. you cannot morph yourself into a different vocal type and shift your range to the opposite of your comfort zone unless you’re whitney houston. even one in a million tenors like baekhyun can’t make themselves a baritone. his lowest notes are less clear no matter how hard he practices, even if his chest voice is almost operatic and his technique excels. meanwhile, chanyeol (who’s a lyric baritone and exo’s deepest voice) effortlessly hits them without (!!) that kind of decade-long training. have baekhyun or jimin been called bad singers for not being able to cover the other end of the spectrum? nope. so: why would yoongi be a bad vocalist who needs autotune. with lessons, oh man, he could do a lot and many things he dreams of. he has a very unique timbre and enough musical knowledge to do so.

so, we see the magic of your natural supported range. it’s simply given to you. imagine that: if you know you’re not a tenor, you could sort of outsing jungkook — obviously not by technique, but projection— as long as the song is tailored to you and the notes are low enough. yep, jk’s lower register is not extremely forward. each note is perfectly sung because he’s jk, but his power vocals are settled much higher. joon/tae/yoongi would sound much fuller with huge oomph in those lines. that’s where yoongi would be much more clear-sounding to us. a lot of baritone rappers in kpop would be damn good singers.

that’s why it’s good how a lot of rappers produce solos on their own so they can try it out.

you just have to respect that your range usually (not always) goes in one direction. once yoongi rightfully decides to abandon his high note fantasy and goes lower just for fun, we are not safe anymore lmao! exception for range: female singers have an advantage there. trained mezzo-sopranos have great access to the head voice and lower registers since they’re in the perfect middle of the scale. but the guys, forget it, even the baritenors. yoongi’s fullest voice will always be coming from a chesty depth and we love him for it. guy just needs to realize.

that’s why his real challenge is rather somehow tweaking the rap parts so his voice finds good resonance like in “혼술” or even “ddaeng”. where his voice is strong, relaxed, and full and flowing. ddaeng — “boy with luv”, too— is ironically in a very high pitch and again caters to hobi’s tone the most, but: yoongi just scales down to his own octave and it still fits, so — great key choice and musicality! and adaptation. it’s not easy to do. you can tell he plays piano.

he either becomes less easy on the ear or has to autotune himself entirely if he works against his voice. or: goes on a track way outside his supported range (dynamite, WOW). it’s a shame. “daechwita” and “agust d” are such a case: both go into the head voice where your resonance should show the most aka the chorus. there are aggressive belts/snarls/shouts that make more sense for higher, trained voices. yoongi is most famous for raps that are literally designed to fuck up his vocal cords 😷that he’s so skilled as a rapper prevents him from that to a degree, but it’s still not healthy. he adapts a lot to bts’ overall delivery but he doesn’t have to, in fact: he could go in the other direction and it would work even better.

the reason for the title track issue: they are the most energetic. in k-pop, energetic means amping up the pitch. and that’s probably a logical choice and a natural human association. if you make a baritone kpop track with a lot of energy, it probably becomes pretty creepy, uneasy, film noir. but i think that’s exactly yoongi’s thing: to unsettle and critique and rage. i think it could work out. lil nas x is a baritone pulling it off. he achieves energetic title tracks, he honors his vocal type well imo. his live singing is cool af, i need this so hard in the rap landscape. so, it’s not impossible to do.

the trick is probably setting everything to minor key. surprise... yoongi’s challenging title tracks are all in major key. boy with luv: minor key, interesting. the former are extremely difficult for him to do so hats off. “shadow” is more suitable for his baritone as is “burn it”. it needs a very heavy, dark track. which is why it’s good that yoongi has that kind of public image. a baritone’s best genre is not super light and whimsical. that’s why all of our baritone faves are not main vocalists but main rappers. kai, taehyung, jaehyun: low voices in vocal lines are soldiers.

---

now a note on yoongi’s best method of singing since it reflects his voice type and brings out the fullness of it. as in, how does it crack and strain less? guess why “사람” is yoongi’s favorite d-2 song to sing. it’s ALL his comfortable range and the singing — very beautifully done — is in mixed register (= head + chest)! which imo might be his secret weapon. it allows him to do what he longs to do successfuly without going extremely high. bingo.

because: even with baritones, the golden middle is still important. they’re not as deep as a bass, after all. that’s why their voices are so honey-laced in the mixed range and it sounds amazing. heaven, their timbre sounds so seductive. so, it’s wonderful when they find their middle and dare to sing.

i wish yoongi gets/makes more tracks aimed at just that. in “outro tear” he has to go both too low and too high so it takes a lot of production effort to patch it together. the rapline is doing god’s work to make all their voices sound cohesive without being trained singers. it’s always a trade-off and risk, an immense balance act. “paldogangsan” is hard on yoongi’s voice but works as a whole plus it caters to namjoon to carry the song’s message. the cyphers are chopped up and not chart-friendly but each member is in their comfort zone.

PS: i said bts’ rap line covers all registers except one. i think that jin is the one to complete bts’ entire spectrum coming from the vocal line. i’m no whistle note expert but dionysus went pretty high up there, i think he might be able to do it. it’s very impressive, even jungkook and jimin probably don’t have access to that register. so, another point for bts being a very ‘complete’ group.

#anon #ask #cub mail 🐆#vocal analysis #yoongi #suga #bts #baritones #tenors #mixed register #long post

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into-the-afterlife · 4 years ago

Text

Why I Ship Johnny/Female V: Part 2

[Part 1] [Part 2]

This is Part 2 of my essay series on why I ship Johnny and female V. Back in part 1, I covered why I ship female V specifically with Johnny and not male V, as well as some thoughts on Johnny’s sexuality. This time, I’m looking at Johnny himself. (Content warning: there is some discussion of rape and how rape is handled in fiction.)

Johnny, ambiguity and age-old romantic tropes

Look, I’m just going to come out and say this: part of my interest in this ship is thirsting over Johnny. And when I’m interested in something, whether it’s an intellectual, creative or sexual interest, I like to do what I always do – analyse it to death. So what is it about the actor, the performance and the character that makes Johnny as attractive as he is?

Keanu Reeves himself, obviously, can’t be ignored here. He has a gorgeous face and voice, but crucially, he’s distinctively beautiful. Obviously, everyone has the right to be into what they’re into, and I don’t want to shame anyone for their tastes. But I do not understand people who are into the blandly beautiful. Sure, there’s nothing wrong about, let’s say, Chris Evans. But what’s right about him? Where are the snags that catch your attention and hold it? Where’s the life?

Reeves, meanwhile, is attractive because he’s unusual. He has long, dark hair, but he’s regularly photographed at public events with it mussed-up. He has a chiselled face, but his cheekbones are high enough that he looks alien. He has all the charisma of any Hollywood actor, but, whether this is him as he is or an especially well-calculated image choice, it comes off as genuine. When watching interviews with him, you feel less in the presence of a star and more an especially fascinating stranger at a party, one who, despite bursting with witticisms and stories, somehow wants to talk to you most of all.

There’s also an element of age ambiguity here. Reeves is in his fifties, and while age suits his looks better than youth did, it shows. Meanwhile, Johnny the character is in his thirties when he dies, and to match this, the animators smooth out Reeves’ face and darken his beard. They also give Johnny the (unrealistic but glorious) organic arms of a dedicated bodybuilder. So what Johnny ends up with is the presence, confidence and charisma of an older guy, combined with the physicality of someone younger. It’s potent, to say the least. It also adds to Johnny’s uncanniness as a character. He’s caught between maturity and youth, life and death, humanity and machine; he’s hard to pinpoint no matter where you look. And whether you express this academia-style, as, ‘the gothic associates uncanniness with sexuality’, or internet-style, as, ‘I’m a monster/robotfucker’, this is, as the kids say, pretty damn hot.

This uncanniness, as well as Reeves’ looks and performance, also offset some of the more unlikeable aspects of Johnny’s personality. This is best illustrated by the concept art created for Johnny before Reeves was brought on board. (Found courtesy of the lovely folks at r/LowSodiumCyberpunk.)

As you can see, they had a lot of Johnny’s look already nailed down. But this makes the differences all the more startling. This Johnny looks like he’s been dragged through the wringer. His hair is messier, and he seems to be getting premature wrinkles and balding. He’s strung-out, with a genuinely hopeless cast to his face. His look is also a lot more dated. While our Johnny has elements of the old rocker, the jean jacket, bandana, V-necked black jumper and aviators clipped to the tank top root this Johnny inescapably in 1980s music and fashion.

Why is all this relevant to shipping Johnny with V? Partially because I’m shallow, I’m not going to lie. But it’s also because making Johnny look like this would have made him much more obviously an intrusion. A guy dressed like this next to 2077’s booty shorts and space buns is like a ghost in a ballgown next to a woman in jeans. He’s not just out of time; he’s been irrevocably left behind. Johnny’s face here also has much less in the way of possibility. Where our Johnny says, ‘maybe your life would be better if you listened to me’, this Johnny screams, ‘my way is hopeless, but you can’t ignore it’. It’s leaning much more into the tragic aspects of Johnny’s character and of the genre of cyberpunk. And don’t get me wrong – I love that artwork, and think that angle would be an interesting artistic choice.

But making Johnny a tragic intrusion like this removes the element of seduction, so to speak, from his character. What makes Johnny attractive, ideologically, sexually and romantically, is a balance of certainty and uncertainty. On the surface, he’s passionately, blazingly certain of his politics, his music and himself. If you’re taking a leap of faith, whether that’s fighting against the corpos that rule your life or hopping into bed with an engram, what draws you to it is the kind of confidence that makes you doubt your own certainties. Yet too much of that can be off-putting. Nobody wants a partner who’s so cocksure (pardon the pun) that they don’t listen to what you want, and nobody wants a political ally who’s gone so far into their own rhetoric that they can’t convince those outside it.

Therefore, the common factor across all the ways Reeves’ looks impact our perception of Johnny is the balancing of two seemingly opposing things. Keep that in mind, because it only gets more relevant the deeper into this ship, and Johnny’s attractiveness, we go.

Of course, Reeves’ looks are far from the only thing he brings to the table. His acting, across body language, facial expressions and voice acting, is incredible. I want to take a look at his voice acting, as well as his voice generally, first.

I’m not familiar enough with the subtleties of American accents to pinpoint why, but Reeves’ accent sounds slightly different to the more generic accents of other famous actors. Perhaps it’s because he’s Canadian. Either way, his consonants are less harsh on the ear than other A-list actors, his vowels less elongated. He speaks slowly, sounding as if he just woke up. His voice is mellow and soothing; it’s the sort of sound you could take a bath in.

(For reference purposes, I’m listening to this Cyberpunk trailer as I write this, as well as, um, this video that I’ve watched far too many times. XD)

Obviously, to play Johnny he has to modify that laid-back aspect of his voice. But it’s interesting how his natural voice and his ‘Johnny’ voice bounce off each other. Reeves is able to pull off a much more belligerent Johnny than many actors could, precisely because of that laid-back quality his natural voice has. Think of that ‘impressive cock’ line. It’s made as funny as it is because of the total lack of shame in how Reeves delivers it. But in the mouth of an actor like, let’s say, Robert Downey Jr, that level of shamelessness would just come off as annoying. Reeves uses his natural voice to amp up Johnny’s, for lack of a better word, Chad-ness, far beyond the place another actor could manage. Because he has that base of softness, he can go hard on Johnny’s arrogance.

Why is this relevant to Johnny’s attractiveness as a character, as well as why Johnny/F!V are a fascinating ship? To develop a character well, you have to have an extremely solid base to start on – and that base is where a lot of writing and acting falls down. The audience has to know intimately what a character is usually like, or who they seem to be, before burrowing into the character further is made effective. That equal hard/soft approach means that when Johnny does soften later in the game, it seems both unexpected and inevitable. Even as the harsh tone and words were conveying one thing, that softness underneath was always conveying another. But the fact that Reeves can go hard on the arrogance makes that change much more impactful than it would be in another character. Once again, we’re seeing an equal balance of two seemingly opposing qualities, not openly leaning towards one or the other.

There’s also some aspects of the body language Reeves and the animators give to Johnny I’d like to focus in on. While I’m not an actor, nor am I a psychologist, and therefore am likely to have missed things, there were a few things I noticed when going through footage of Johnny in pivotal scenes. (If you spot something I haven’t talked about, please reply or reblog! I’d love to get a back-and-forth discussion going.)

Over and over again, Johnny’s body language has two layers. There’s what I’m calling the ‘douchebag’ layer, which is where Johnny seems insultingly relaxed. The scene when V and Johnny first meet, as well as the scene at the diner, have two great examples of this. Johnny gets into V’s space, but it’s slow, catlike. There’s no urgency when he leans in, nor when he stands over V.

Similarly, at the diner, he tells V he doesn’t want to kill her anymore – something pivotally important for their relationship and the plot - while putting his arms behind his head and his feet up on the table. It communicates, at least on the surface, a real sense of disrespect. ‘I don’t give a shit’, says his posture, ‘whether you hate and fear me or not’. His threatening slowness when they first meet, meanwhile, communicates that he doesn’t think V is a competent opponent. Why should he hurry if he can get her any time?

At least, that’s what it looks like. Take a look from 9:40 onwards here. Sure, he swings his legs up on the table – but not before hurrying into the diner booth and tapping his fingers rapidly on the table. Even when he gets into that relaxed posture, he’s bouncing his leg the entire time. Those catlike movements I talked about when they first meet? If you look from 5:42 here, they’re there. But they’re also interspersed with banging his head incessantly against the wall, pacing back and forth and glitching unpredictably all around the room.

This is where the second layer of Johnny’s body language comes in. Underneath all that casual condescension, he communicates constant, frenetic energy, even anxiety. Even in his default, idle animations, it’s extremely rarely that Johnny communicates real coolness and calm. He covers constantly racing thoughts and feelings with a slick persona.

What this does is very like the hard/soft balance of the voice acting I talked about earlier. Because the ‘douchebag’ layer of body language is the most obvious one, you pick up on that first. But the other layer is there throughout Johnny’s entire arc, and it goes into your brain on a much more subconscious level. Then, when Johnny’s guard does come down, it seems like a natural development of his character while still being a surprise. Once again, there’s that knife-edge balance between two disparate qualities. And for me, attraction always lies in the space between.

There’s also something highly sexual about the way he gets into V’s space when they first meet, the way he stands over her. When first playing the scene where they first meet, it felt like watching the moments before an act of rape. You see him first as he leans over you while you’re still in bed. He beats you to the ground, smashes your head into the window, and towers over you while you’re collapsed on the floor. Given the context of him taking over your body, the overtones are unmistakeable.

But again, crucially, that frantic body language and his lines are the complete opposite of how someone behaves when making the kind of power play that rape is. The pacing, the panicked words and the fact that he’s caught off guard all communicate disempowerment. While it’s still a violent, frightening scene, it’s not a monstrous one.

Why is that relevant to discussing Johnny’s attractiveness, and Johnny/V? Because rape fantasies and male domination are some of the oldest tropes in the book for M/F romantic arcs. Done properly, they play on desires of sexual submission without explicitly acknowledging the kink, depict the eroticism of that liminal space between humanity and monstrosity I talked about earlier and allow you to fantasise about being deeply wanted. Of course, that last bit isn’t a factual depiction of rape in real life. But in the fantasy, the story, the idea of being ravished is partially about being special, being so uniquely attractive that the guy loses all control of himself. If you have a more conservative or repressed view of your sexuality, the ravishment/rape fantasy also allows you to fantasise about sex without seeing yourself as a slut. (This post is a great look at that last idea as applied to the movie Labyrinth, if you want to find out more.)

The idea of sexualised monstrosity is also everywhere in the tropes used to characterise Johnny. He’s a troubled rockstar, an angst-ridden artist who died tragically young, a violent political rebel, part human and part supernatural creature, a charismatic, cocky, seemingly heartless guy, who just might have a heart if you look deep enough. What all these tropes have in common is the promise of both reassuring humanity and fascinating, exciting monstrosity.

Reeves’ and Johnny’s looks combine strangeness and humanity. Reeves’ voice acting moves between soaring arrogance and languid softness. Johnny’s body language combines fear and overconfidence. And the use of age-old romantic tropes in an unexpected context, as well as the use of these specific romantic tropes, knit all the effects of the other things together to create that balance between the human and the strange. He’s unusual enough to be interesting, human enough to seem real and associated with all our cultural symbolism of an attractive man. With all that going on, how could you not find him hot as hell?

But the thing about these tropes is, they’re also so common they’re clichéd. Not just in fandom, but all across Western media and art. So what lifts Johnny and Johnny/V out of being something generic? What makes them so fascinating that I’ve written thousands of words about them? What, in short, makes them different?

That’s what I’ll go into next time.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

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thegirlwhomoanedwolf · 4 years ago

Text

Truth or dare

(Halloween party truth or dare)

*reader has plot of Elena

Damon x Reader

Warnings: 18+, slightly rough

It had been months...

months since (y/n) had been touched by a man. Her last intimate moment had been a gentle kiss with the person she swore she would never willingly touch. But things change and she would have never forgiven herself if she let Damon die without showing him how much she cared. She was prepared to grieve the man who had gotten under her skin, against her best efforts. She had realized a part of her would die with him.

Along with that part would be the guilt she carried. The way she would get excited when he would walk into a room. The sick feeling knowing she could easily have him if she just asked and how sometimes she fantasized about what he would do to her when she finally gave in. That didn’t compare to the worst of her crimes. There were times she had made sure Damon would hear her moans and cries as Stefan thrusted into her.

“Please harder,” she would beg her voice echoing throughout the boarding house. Always one to please Stefan did as he was asked. He didn’t care if Damon heard. He wanted him to know (y/n) was his and that he would never be able to experience the heaven that was being inside of her. If only he had known she screamed and begged hoping his brother was listening. Sometimes she even imagined Damon with flushed cheeks, his need for her burning through him like a fire he couldn’t put out. She would imagine him with his head thrown back and his eyes shut tightly as he stroked himself pretending he was the one responsible for her pleasure.

She would shriek “ Oh my god, please, I’m gonna cum,” when her fantasy had gotten her to her peak and even louder and raspier “ I want you to cum with me!” Her (y/e/c) eyes would slam shut as she thought of Damon stroking his cock faster and being pushed over the edge with her. Self hatred would wash over her afterwards knowing she betrayed Stefan but no one but her would ever know.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but feel some relief knowing the man she truly wanted could no longer plague her relationship or mind. Though as soon as her mirror image walked into his room with with a crimson colored bottle that was the cure, (y/n) felt more relived then she ever had in her life. That relief soon ended when Katherine happily announced that Stefan had given himself to Klaus to save his brother.

................................................

It was a cool fall day in Mystic falls. Four months after stefan left and made it clear he was not coming back. Damon Salvatore sat on his leather sofa reading from dust returned by ray Bradbury getting himself thoroughly into the fall spirit. His favorite time of year. The sound of the crackling fire place and smell of leaves falling outside was the perfect combination for relaxation.

“ Damon! Why aren’t you answering my calls I’ve been trying to reach you for hours?,” Carloline Forbes voice boomed, the door slamming shut behind her.

He looked at her pointedly “ Well maybe I put my phone on silent so I could have a relaxing day without someone needing my help for a mundane task any human could fufill.”

Caroline huffed, “ this is a big deal Damon, Tyler’s mom has the flu so now we don’t have a place for our yearly friend-o- ween party!”

Damon Laughed, “ friend-o-ween? That’s the best you guys could come up with?”

“ We made it up in middle school and it’s cute!,” she argued. “ please Damon no one else can have it at their house.”

He sighed “ fine.”

Caroline shrieked and jumped “yay! I’ll go get all the decorations!”

.................................................

What was supposed to be a relaxing day turned into hours of assisting Caroline in decorating the boarding house until it looked like something out of a movie. The lighting was dim. Orange and purple lights were strung throughout the house giving it a spooky yet enchanting glow. There were real pumpkins, fake pumpkins, spider webs, skeletons and other spooky decorations. It really was overkill but he did have to admit he enjoyed the finished result.

They stood finally finished Caroline grinning. “ This looks amazing. Oh! I forgot about the food! I’ll have Matt bring the snacks by before everyone else gets here. I have to start getting ready. I’m running behind! You better have a costume Damon!” She said so quickly it’d be hard to understand if he wasn’t supernatural. She left slamming the door behind her.

With an hour to go Damon walked upstairs deciding to take a shower before the party. He stripped his clothes and turned the shower on high heat enjoying the steam that filled up his large room. He decided he would just splash some fake blood on himself as a costume and his mind began to wander to (y/n) wondering what she might wear. He liked her sexy nurse costume but it probably had too many negative emotions attached to it after the last time she wore it. Damon felt guilty over what had happened but all he could think about right now was how badly he had wanted her that night. He could have thrown her in a school bus and fucked her for hours he had been so worked up from her anger towards him. His cock got hard at the thought and he moved his hand down his chiseled wet abs and gripped it.

He started to stroke it thinking of what he normally did, memories of (y/n) moaning and cumming. He should feel ashamed or grossed out by the fact it was because his brother was fucking her but he didn’t care. He could easily remember those sounds and pretend they were caused by him. He stroked himself even faster imagining the school bus fantasy. His arm supported him against the glass wall as the other twisted and began to stroke himself faster. He was so close he was going to

“Damon!,” Matt’s voice yelled from downstairs and Damon had never wanted to kill Matt more than in that moment. He lost the coiling feeling in his abdomen and shut the water off quickly. Pissed he quickly threw on pants and a white v neck.

Once downstairs he helped Matt set out all of the food besides the pizzas Caroline was ordering. If only he had showed up one minute later, Damon thought still extremely frustrated. He splattered some fake blood on his white shirt and face. Then put Caroline’s cheesy Halloween music on that she said he HAD to play.

The door opened and he got excited hoping it was (y/n) but to his disappointment blondie appeared with Tyler and witchy. Bonnie wore a black latex bodysuit with cat ears and Caroline was wearing a black lingerie nighty with animal ears as well. “ I see you decide to go as a slutty hamster,” he joked confused by her outfit.

“ I’m a mouse duh,” she said pointing to her ears the reference lost on him.

Bonnie looked at Tyler in his football jersey and Damon in “ blood” splattered . “ I see you two put in a lot of effort,” she joked.

“ if you want me to take it all off all you had to do was ask bon bon,” Damon joked back as she rolled her eyes.

Everyone moved to the kitchen snacking on chips and soda waiting for the pizza to arrive while Damon anxiously waited for (y/n) . The pizza delivery guy arrived before her much to his dismay and Caroline seeing the look on his face added “ It’ll be worth the wait Damon,” as she smiled. He ignored her not knowing what she meant and poured himself a bourbon as they all sat around eating pizza. When the door finally opened Jeremy came in first wearing a black hoodie as usual (y/n) following behind him.

Damon’s eyes bulged and he tried to stop another area from doing the same as he saw her costume. She was dressed like a playboy bunny and it was the least clothed he had ever seen her. Now he really was hating Matt because tonight was going to be torture until he could relieve himself.

.....................................................

A few hours later they all sat in a circle on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace, filled shot glasses in front of each of them as Caroline yelled. “ Okay never have I ever, so if you have take a shot! Also no lying.” “ I’ll go first! Never have I ever had a one night stand.” Damon and Tyler took a shot.

Bonnie went next, “ never have I ever kissed a girl.” Everyone took a shot besides Bonnie and learning this new fact about (y/n) was making it even harder on him. Especially since he was trying not to stare all night as is.

Tyler went next “ never have I ever slept with Damon Salvatore,” laughing as Caroline hit him and took a shot.

Matt went next following Tyler’s lead , “ never have I ever fantasized about Damon Salvatore.” Also looking at Caroline. She took a shot.

“ Wow I’m hurt Matt,” Damon joked and noticed out of the corner of his eye (y/n) taking a shot too. He thought he could explode right then. He clapped his hands getting everyone’s attention . “Alright this is dumb, lets do truth or dare, you know there’s nothing I won’t do.” He winked. Since it’s my turn I’ll go first he turned to (y/n) whose heartbeat immediately increased.

“ (y/n) ,” he said slowly. “ truth or dare?”

She figured he saw that she had taken a shot for fantasizing about him and knew he would probably ask about that so in this case dare was the safe option. “ dare.”

Damon smirked, “ I dare you to tell me what you fantasized about me doing.” Her face went red.

“ That’s not how it works Damon it has to be an actual dare,” Bonnie said trying to cock block him like usual.

“ Fine,” he looked at (y/n) who was still flushed “ Then I dare you to kiss Caroline.”

(Y/n) crawled over to Caroline on her hands and knees seductively. Her pink body suit showing off her ass with a cute little bunny tail on it. She sat in front of her moving her blonde curled hair behind her ear and passionately kissed her. Caroline wrapped her hands into (y/n)s hair as they moaned into each other mouths. They pulled away laughing and at this point all the men were slightly hard. (Y/n) crawled back to her spot next to Damon and glared at him. Worried what his dare would be after that so he picked truth.

She acted like she was thinking it over “ have you ever jerked off while thinking about me Damon?” She asked trying to embarrass him, making everyone but Caroline slightly uncomfortable. Only because she knew (y/n) and Damon just needed to bang it out already.

He kept eye contact, “ right before everyone got here I was thinking about you in your sexy little nurse costume. Oh by the way Matt thanks for interrupting right as I was about to cum.”

His answer was followed by a few ewww’s and Jeremy, Bonnie and Matt deciding it was time to go. Now it was Caroline’s turn and she was playing matchmaker “ (y/n) truth or dare,”

“ truth,” she responded nervous yet excited.

“ what is your naughtiest fantasy of Damon?”

(Y/n) froze debating on lying but new the supernaturals would easily be able to tell. Looking down ashamed she responded quietly, “ that he would jerk off while hearing stefan and I ... well you know.”

Damon couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t always stefan after all. Had she wanted him the entire time? Did this mean she was purposefully being loud? Was she always thinking about him when her and his baby bro did the deed?

Tyler interrupted his thoughts. “ Caroline truth or dare ?” He said quickly trying to move things away from (y/n) who was obviously embarrassed.

Caroline’s face lit up, “dare.”

“ I dare you to kiss me.” Caroline moved over to him getting into his lap kissing him their bodies pressing close together as Damon and (y/n) looked at each other awkwardly. Caroline let out a small moan and Damon coughed loudly trying to remind them they weren’t alone.

Feeling turned on from so many of the events that happened today and now knowing how long (y/n) had been wanting him physically Damon looked over to her yet again. “ truth or dare ?”

Her face was flushed from Tyler and Caroline’s show of affection and it reminded her how badly she needed intimacy. Damon was sexy all the time but now with his tousled hair and blood spattered shirt he looked rough and it was making her think about all the times he had gotten bloody to save her. How strong and rough he actually was. She wanted to be closer to him she hoped choosing dare would grant that wish. “Dare.”

He patted his lap “ come sit.” She crawled over to him and took a seat in his lap her back facing his chest and his arms wrapped around her tightly. She could feel the buldge underneath his Jeans and her core tightned feeling him pressed against her. He ran his nose along the inside of her neck and whispered “ your turn.”

She responded the need for him finally taking over. “ truth or dare Damon” she said in a husky tone her face turned towards him looking into his eyes, her need evident.

“ dare.”

“ kiss me,” she dared and without hesitation Damon pulled her face to his forcefully. They moaned into each other’s mouths and Damon wrapped an arm around her and the other in her hair after throwing her bunny ears off of her. Well aware of what was about to happen and in need of release themselves Caroline and Tyler snuck out unnoticed.

Damon pushed (y/n) unto her back hovering above her, their lips always connected. He pressed her body firmly into the floor grinding into her core enjoying as she bucked her hips up to meet his. He moved his mouth to her neck kissing it aggressively. “ I want you so fucking bad (y/n) ,” She trembled underneath him.

“ please Damon.” With that he sat back and ripped off her tiny pink body suit leaving her in a black bra and panty set. She sat up and kissed him pulling away to lift his shirt over his head. He picked her up easily sitting her on the leather couch closer to the lit fireplace. He stood in front of her and she fumbled slightly trying to get his pants off as quick as she could. Her eyes widened when she unzipped his black jeans and realized he was going commando and he was BIG. His large erection sprung out of his pants standing proudly in front of her face. He stepped out of his pants and was going to resume undressing (y/n) but that thought was forgotten about when she wrapped her hand around him and did and experimental tug.

She looked up at him her (y/e/c) eyes meeting his blue as she stuck her tongue out and slowly licked his tip a few times before wrapping her lips around him completely.

“ fuck (y/n) ,” he moaned as she went further down on him, bobbing her head up and down on his length. She began to use her hand stroking what couldn’t fit in her mouth. Damon wrapped his hand around her throat gently pushing her off of him knowing If she continued he wouldn’t last much longer. Using his grip on her throat he pushed her back into the couch and crawled untop of her kissing her passionately. His other hand reached being her back unclasping her bra and she gasped as the cool air hit the newly exposed skin. He began to kiss down her neck his fingers traveling to play with her over her soaked panties. “ so wet.” He moaned against her neck as she began to grind into his hand.

Damon moved lower sucking her nipple into his mouth gently nibbling on it as he slipped his hand underneath her underwear making direct contact with her clit. “Please Damon, I need you inside me,” she cried desperately wanting him more than she thought was humanly possible.

He lifted his head from her breast looking down at her. The need evident in her eyes and ripped her panties off of her. Hovering over top of her he grabbed his member and and ran it along her folds watching as her wetness coated him. Looking down at her biting her lip he asked , “ are you sure you want this?”

“ I’ll always want you Damon,” she replied the sincerity clear on her face. With that Damon slowly guided his head into her. He watched her face as she slightly winced and leaned down to kiss her softly. He moved back and slowly slid farther into her. He kissed the side of her face gently trying to remind himself she hadn’t had sex in months and stefan wasn’t as well endowed as he was. Her tightness was testing his will power but he didn’t want to hurt her.

“ are you doing okay?,” he asked moving his hand down to her clit softly rubbing her knowing it would help her adjust more easily.

She moaned her eyes shut tightly the feeling of him stretching her so far. “ yes,” she lifted her hips trying to show him she wanted more , “ I want all of you Damon.” With that he pulled almost all of her heat and thrusted back in completely connecting them.

“ yes!” She cried out feeling like they were made for each other. He pulled back again and thrust in slow and deep enjoying the look of pleasure on her face. He continued his slow thrusts rolling his hips into her filling her all the way. He sat back and watched as her folds gripped him tightly. The view bringing him closer to his release. Damon sped up his pace slightly pulling out mostly than thrusting back into her using more force than before. He could feel her pussy begin to tighten around him and moved to rest his forehead against hers.

“ I want you to come for me (y/n). ” He sped up his circles on her clit and thrust into her harder and harder his abs tensing trying to hold off his orgasm.

(Y/n) began to tremble underneath him, “ I’m close!” she exclaimed. Her legs began shaking uncontrollably the pleasure like nothing she had ever experienced before.

“ me too ,” he grunted on the edge “ I want you to come with me.” He thrust again softly whispering “ come on baby, come on my cock for me.” Feeling her walls start to pulse around him.

With that she cried “ yes! I’m cumming, Damon yes!”

“ Fuck (y/n) ,” he growled, her walls gripping him harder pulling his orgasm from him as he continued to move inside of her.

They lay there still connected the aftershocks traveling through their bodies. He kissed her before slowly pulling out and rolling off the couch onto the soft carpet in front of the fire place. He patted next to him. “ join me?”

She slowly moved beside him her muscles already sore from her incredible orgasm. He played with her hair as she asked him “ truth or dare?”

“ truth,” he responded not questioning her motive.

“ Do you love me Damon?”

“ I always have (y/n),” he paused “ do you love me?”

“ yes, I always will .” With that he brought her mouth to his sealing their love with that one special kiss.

#Damon Salvatore #Damon Salvatore smut #Damon Salvatore imagine #vampire diaries #vampire diaries smut #smut #vampire diaries imagine #Damon imagine #damon x reader #damonxreadersmut #damon salvatore x reader #damonxelena

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years ago

Note

Mc being super drunk and dragging Cecelia to dance with her. At first Cecelia is worried about MC but ends up having fun dancing with her and enjoys her flirty drunk personality. At the end of the night, MC sinks into Cecelia’s embrace as they slow dance

Written by: @evoedbd

The Saloon was alive. The throbbing heartbeat of the sleepy little town, Wisp Willow. As the sun sulked, and the moon reigned, the Saloon roused. Even the most straight laced of folk came in from the unforgiving cold, lured in by the smell of fine food, of cigar smoke and leather. Of a home away from the homes many had left for their new start out in the Devil’s Backbone. People sat in clusters around their tables, laughter and chatter floating on a tide of wistful piano notes or a swish of Ada’s skirts. Some danced to the jolly jigs, kicking their heels and trying not to entomb their spurs in the floorboards in their drunken staggering. The sound of boots across the floor only added a beat, an intimacy to the din. Din which flittered by those seated around a table in the corner, just to the left of the door. The table with the greatest vantage point.

An odd bunch they were, none looking like another. No rhyme or reason as to why they’d be seated together, let alone throwing coin with laughter and barbs of their own. Yet not one person in that Saloon, dead drunk or stone cold sober, would deny how intimate the table was. How comfortable they were with one another. They shared the type of security come from risking life and limb together, they did. The Wardens. Nobody knew just what they did or who they were, precisely, only that even the Sherrif made way for them. That made folks antsy round them. It was safer to avoid that type of crowd when possible. Less complications that way. Thus, nobody paid them heed, offering the perfect place to relax and unwind for the unusual crowd.

“Who knew all it takes is a few drinks to make the Moonlit Outlaw play like crap?” At the table, Nathan Cayde’s voice cut above the din, the lilt of his voice strutting through the sound of the upbeat piano.

That earned a huff from Roslyn Arosi, the forementioned Moonlit Outlaw.

Nathan’s earnest glee radiated from him, almost as if he were a cool breeze in the harsh frontier desert. With his lively, deep blue eyes glimmering like a mirage, lips peeled into a good-natured smile. It never ceased to amaze her how he could smile like this, as if his actions weren’t a one-way ticket to disappointment on a bad hoss. Least he wasn’t some yellow belly, the way he gigged up to the table of cheats, seers and demons. Perhaps his ghastly status was enough to earn him some reprise, yet it wasn’t bout to save his dignity. A fact proven by the cackle which came from the impish woman across the table the moment Nathan’s money collided with the wood.

He shook his head, drawing Roslyn’s attention. His wavy locks, one many might be long to cut to lessen such a beautiful man, proved aptly distracting to The Moonlit Outlaw. Lord’s mercy, was it wrong to want to run her fingers through those fine hairs? To see if the beginnings of curls felt as smooth as they looked? It wasn’t like she was fixing for his bed, nor pressed for fine company in said regard, but watching those locks bounce with every tilt of his head, or the broody fix of his chapped lips, roused a curiosity in her drunken state. She watched the ends bounce round his jawline, contrasting the harsh line of his beard. A beard better suited to the Ace-High parts of town, a dab too neat for the rougher parts, but by the devil’s charm did it gruff up Nathan’s otherwise baby like face. For all his chiseled jawline, the grizzled gauntness to his cheeks and heavier brows, his petite little nose added this aspect of utter adorability to the man, enough that the moonlit outlaw found herself fixing to bop it… or maybe poke it? A little pinch to the adorable button?

She settled for a sloppy poke to his cheek, which earned a chorus of amused laughter. Even Roslyn laughed, though, she wasn’t quite sure why. It felt good to laugh with friends, to let go, even with Fiona sitting across the table like a predatory cat ready to devour the mice. Roslyn swore she could almost see a tail swishing, though that might have also been the alcohol flooding her veins.

“Come on, Roslyn. Show us some spark.” If Nathan’s voice had been a strut, Fiona’s goading words were a skip. A teasing, coy swish of skirts and mysterious smile to match the Seer’s very nature. Keen, golden brown eyes twinkled; their brightness only intensified by the smudged, dark eyeshadow. Fiona made no effort to hide her borderline sadistic mirth as she sized up the table, lording her knowledge over them with taps of her armored fingers against the backs of her cards and a subtle glint of teeth in an overly satisfied smirk, added to a subtle downturn of a pointed chin to her collar; a demure little jest between those at the table. The almost childish image of braids peeping from beneath her hood added to long with the tufts of an unevenly cut fringe, didn’t detract from the spooky allure. Here she was, optimism and mischief, cheekiness and mysterious magnetism set upon an undercurrent of a mournful disconnect, all wrapped into a woman strutting a line between adorable and sexy with an element of spook that set many hearts fluttering. Of course, butterflies did nothing to soften the downright wicked grin as Fiona continued tapping, a subtle reminder to all that the only other human at the table held the future in her palms. Was savoring her victory, toying with everyone there like an adolescent cat having found a wayward old mouse.

“She’s saving it for her bed tonight.” Sascha purred, the wicked upturn of his lips leaving nothing to speculation when it came to the meaning of his words. As always, his voice was almost liquid sex, a dose of lust accompanying his crude observation. Roslyn could almost feel heated breath across her ear, the seduction in the words translated directly to her soul, drawing out every memory of what could follow. His little trick radiated through the room, had women shuffling awkwardly in their seats, men clearing their throats just a tad too loudly as they tugged at their neck ties. Even the pianist stuttered, a key pressed a tad too roughly, slipped off.

A mood killer if ever there was one. Roslyn flinched, hand tipping for the briefest moment. Enough for Sascha to get a glance of her cards, she wagered.

Sascha Orosco looked far too pleased with himself as he slouched back in his chair, fixing the table with one of his feline grins. An expression designed to be kissed away, hard and demanding. All lust and unquenched heat. A devil’s snare if ever there was one. Not that a jawline stronger than a king’s military didn’t help, nor those high cheekbones, sharp enough to cut yourself on. He was the type of man momma told you not to run off with, the type who promised to leave you ruined by the time he burned through you… but being burned was too much a thrill to ignore.

“A chance to play to the gallery? I’d love to” The witch retorted, words slurring together a little. She had to pretend not to notice the ripple of concern travel throughout the group. The guilt briefly illuminating Sascha’s magenta eyes. Darn it all, she hadn’t meant to find herself so deep in cups, hells bells, she’d even partaken of less than her usual amount. She never should have listened to Sascha, have branched from her usual poisons. She may be a woman of many, many vices, but her vices were all kept rightly in check. If not by her own efforts, then by her partner’s. When working alongside the Desert Rose of the Devil’s Backbone, one learned quickly to keep their wits about them.

Her lips twitched. She was always aware of the regal vampire’s presence. The untamed beauty. A queen of the night, much like the Queen’s in a few hands. It was easy to imagine Cecelia’s face upon those cards, fangs and bloodied butterflies, sharpness nipping at the fingers touching her, or a blow to Nathan’s boots. His grunt was enough for Roslyn’s magic to spark, to bring about the drunken images of dancing numbers, of beating hearts and digging spades. Effortless. A breath. A laugh at the startled faces of her competitors, except Fiona. The mystic was too busy smiling like a cat who’d just lapped up the last of the cream.

“Ahhh.” The seer began, her voice amazingly bored. A dexterous flick of her wrist had her cards spraying across the table, a pair of aces hiding amongst them, to land directly in front of a grumbling Nathan.

“Well… I fold.” Fiona’s casual surrender was delivered with a perfectly innocent shrug. Roslyn’s eyes narrowed. Even sunken to the ocean floor, she could read that something was… off? It wasn’t her hood. Perhaps pantihose? No, somehow Fiona didn’t seem the sort to be reactive to that kind of thing. Or rather, not reactive in this way… With her dress being so short, wouldn’t everyone know if she was taking command of her nethers?

“Say what now?” Nathan gaped; his eyes fixed on her cards for a split second before shifting back to her face.

“I thought you were using your gifts to win, not buy all my expensive drinks.” Roslyn’s barb was met with a chuckle from the table, along with another innocent gesture from Fiona… Roslyn wasn’t buying the act. Not for a single second. Not even with Fiona’s money.

“You’re an absolutely delightful drunk, Miss Arosi. A worthy cause to lose a days payment to. I fold.” Sascha purred, his charm laid on thick, complete with a playful wink as he laid his cards down. Roslyn couldn’t relax, couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. Her eyes shifted between smirks, between sly grins exchanged around the table, all the way to Nathan’s grouchy huff.

“You’re not the ones who have to manhandle her and her little demon. I fold.”

“Hold on now!” Roslyn began, hand sliding across the table as she tried to right herself, intent on giving the cowboy a piece of her mind. It failed of course, given the room begun to swim, her chair tilted, until she surrendered to gravity and allowed herself to fall, full bodied onto the table.

“I’m the one roostered one, not Enzo.”

“If I don’t copper my bets, this game will last hours… besides, I foresee you’re going to be busy.” Fiona continued to tease, lifting a hand to dramatically touch the space between her eyes. She acted up the gig, Cheshire smile fixated so firmly in place Roslyn doubted when a herd of mustangs could drag it down. Sascha straightened before she could retort, his eyes shifting to the door, brightening with rich amusement and a deep seeded satisfaction, his need for lust sated for the moment.

“I foresee five foot ten. A rather fetching jawline. A smile sharper than moonlight on a starless night-”

“Cecelia!” Roslyn realized out loud, jerking up in her chair. She didn’t even hear Sascha, nor the table. There was a serenity to the presence approaching her, like the moment one went underwater in a cool, refreshing lake… followed by the hyperawareness of every droplet of water running across one’s skin when they surfaced; the jitters assaulting her in full swing. Those pesky nerves marched down her arms, lifting the hairs in places many might say hairs had no place rising. The moment before lightning sizzled in her veins, even as the breath of calm approached her from behind.

Instinctively, Roslyn turned to that presence, letting her gaze fall upon the Desert Rose.

“I didn’t even get to the marble bust-”

“Have some respect for the woman. She’s your boss!” Nathan’s scolding served as a timely interruption for Sascha’s playful leering. The Demon’s brows ceased wiggling, flicking for a breath before he commented offhandedly.

“I forgot I was drinking with a prude apparition.”

“I’ll give you an apparition.” Nathan grumbled, reaching for his bottle. Bottle? That was a good idea! Her mouth was quite dry after all, her head empty. Where was Roslyn’s drink again? Blindly, she groped around the table for it, only to find the welcoming rasp of well-loved wood.

“Judging by the gleam in your eye, Sascha, Roslyn’s providing quite a soaked feast.” Fiona’s words drew Roslyn’s attention. Damn it, the Seer’s golden eyes had too knowing a glint to them, a cat who’d gotten the cream, complete with a little milk moustache. Sascha wasn’t much better. The Incubas was practically preening as he leaned back in his chair, lazy, Cheshire smirk forming across her unfairly attractive lips.

“Half the patrons are. The Desert rose makes quite an entrance.”

That she did. Even across the room, Cecelia cut an intimidating figure. A blade through the night, straight to Roslyn’s gut. Goddess, Mother of Night, was Cecelia able to make an entrance. Demons strutted, Fiona kind of skipped, Nathan had this floatiness to him. But Cecelia… Cecelia redefined reality. The world existed only to be a backdrop to the Supernatural perfection of every step, smoother than any criminal could hope to be, the perfect predatory stalk reimagined into casual yet purposeful strides… So many conflictions that SHOULDN’T work, but Lord did they work for Cecelia Visconti.

Roslyn was stuck watching, breath catching at each stride, at the flex of those impossibly strong legs clad in form fitting charcoal black trousers. The casual confidence in those strides, the power of those legs… Roslyn had ridden horses with less. The smallest part of sense in her brain warned her to look away, her sluggish body thought that meant down. Straight to the vine engravings across Cecelia’s boots, gold gleaming across chocolate straps, which in turn bound midnight leather… it was a miracle that Roslyn did not collapse to her knees, that she could fight the urge to press her lips to those vines in devotion. Why else did such a perfect being exist if not to be worshipped?

“They damned well better be respectful about their thirsts. Cecelia could rightfully have their heads.” Nathan’s continued griping bought Roslyn a moment of clarity. The entire table could hear the underlying, unspoken threat to Nathan’s statement. That if Cecelia did not claim the heads, that Roslyn might have a collection of balls to kick down the streets. An image which had said Witch snorting before taking another healthy swig of her booze.

“Doubtful she’ll notice when Roslyn’s half seas over. She’ll soak up all of Cece’s attention.” The way Fiona practically purred the last word left very little to the imagination.

“She does seem to have partaken of too much alcohol.” The unmistakable voice of Cecelia Visconti echoed in Roslyn’s ears, serenading her mind in an untouched vault of time for sober her to process later on. This was accompanied by a grounding touch to her far shoulder, the tips of Cecelia’s claws prickling through Roslyn’s cottons. The Witch surrendered to baser instincts, shuddering with delight as she leaned back into the Vampire, head resting against the Immortal’s lace covered shoulder, and downright shamelessly admired Cecelia’s visage.

Cecelia was a beauty unlike any Roslyn had seen. The Vampire was every inch as regal as the Princesses from the worn fairytales tucked away in Roslyn’s rucksack. She was also the mysterious seductive huntress from the penny dreadfuls hiding beneath Roslyn’s pillows. Her lips were fine, bathed in midnight red which stood starkly from skin the delicate shades of fallen snow. Her pale complexion blended the cut of her jaw into the graceful heights of her cheekbones. The faintest dappling of blush concealed that supernatural perfection, blending Cecelia with the land of the mortal living. Even across the room, the deep greens and greys of her garb seemed unable to dull the glorious mane of chestnut, the luxurious hair hanging down below her shoulders… all lost to the devil’s snare of winter greys. Gentle eyes made to appear angular by an overly generous portion of eyeliner and smokey red eyeshadow.

“Or perhaps of a more potent variety. Tricks of an Incubas, perhaps?” Cecelia’s comment was accompanied by an accusatory brow arched in Sascha’s direction. Despite the inconvenience, Cecelia somehow seemed amused, fit to saw the Incubus. A mental game where she was steadily tightening a noose around the Incubus’ throat as she smiled. An undisguised trap she practically dared Sascha to sacrifice himself to, for what she might do if he didn’t simply acknowledge the corn. It seemed Sascha was not willing to take the risk, given his simple response.

“I would be amiss not to slake a lady’s thirst.”

“Slake?” Nathan demanded, laughter dancing beneath his tones.

“More like you aimed to drown her. She’s as full as a tick!��

At the confessions, at her victory, Cecelia seemed to preen. A quiet, subtle shift to how she held her head. She’d had her blood, albeit metaphoric, and was sated for the moment. The quiet tinge of smugness remained as she gathered her chair, and proceeded to ignore how the wood screeched as she dragged it across the floorboards. Even as she gathered her own chair, she never jostled her shoulder, never disrupted Roslyn’s drunken obsession. If anything, the Vampire seemed to encourage it, given the playful flicker of a wink she offered Roslyn once she finally managed to claim her seat.

It was unfair how such a simple expression could have Roslyn’s cheeks flushing with more than the warmth of her booze. How Cecelia’s quiet intensity could shake the Witch’s very foundations, until she had to look down like a blushing maiden. Of course, that meant she was face to bust with Cecelia. Hells Bells, she just wanted a fair shake at seeming like she had a control on her libido.

But how was it a fair shake when said bust was concealed only by see intricately decorated, rose vined lace which left the sharpness of her collarbones exposed like the worst kept, sexiest secret this side of the Devil’s Backbone? Roslyn’s cheeks flushed at the realization that it was not merely the lace panels of her grey button up, but Cecelia’s lacy undergarments that added to the teasing vision. It was only running into the hard edge of grey across the swell of Cecelia’s forementioned bust that broke Roslyn out of her thoughts, and mercifully tore her from the teasing of the black corset defining Cecelia’s boddice.

“Not to worry, miss Visconti, I’ve left a particular thirst for your enjoyment.” The Incubus commented, his pointed gaze fixed out on Roslyn and her current occupation. The entire table shuffled, gazes anywhere but where Roslyn’s was. That didn’t make sense to the drunken Witch. Cecelia was stunning, why ignore that? It wasn’t like Cecelia was hid- oh… Leering wasn’t becoming. But it was Cecelia! Innocently, Roslyn’s gaze rose, meeting Cecelia’s. Amusement twinkled there, the gleam of waves in oceans far deeper than anybody could comprehend. Whatever darkness swum in those depths were known to the depths alone, much like Cecelia’s thoughts. Much like her pains. It may have been the booze talking, or the heat of Cecelia’s gaze, but Roslyn was willing to drown in those depths if only to take a droplet of the pain from Cecelia’s lonesome.

“It seems this Witchling is drawn to things both deadly and beautiful.” Sascha’s words fell un unhearing ears.

“Cecelia, lovely, dance with me!” Roslyn was urging, sacrificing her place of comfort to spring to her feet. She lurched, held only by Cecelia’s gentle arm around her waist. The Witch fell, sprawling into Cecelia’s arms with nothing more than an excited giggle. The vampire’s chest heaved with suppressed laughter, even as those talons came to brush some of Roslyn’s hair away from a clammy forehead. There was such a tenderness to Cecelia’s innocent gesture, something that stole the breath from Roslyn’s chest even as Cecelia’s lower voice came.

“Oh Witchling, I doubt your feet would hold you to these tunes.”

“Don’t worry, Cece,” Fiona began, that mischievous grin coming back tenfold.

“I foresee the music is about to change.”

For a brief moment, Roslyn and Cecelia stared at the seer, both processing her words. The Saloon had fallen quieter, the makeshift dancefloor abandoned as the melancholy notes of the piano rung. It was as if the patrons dared not speak over the beauty, the story each note wove through their ears.

“I suspect this is more foreplaned than foreseen.” The note of skepticism within Cecelia’s voice had the table smiling. Even the lord of disapproval himself seemed to find something endearing about the antics. A series of shared glances and grins launched a silent debate, who would take the fall and who would claim credit. A blink, a shuffle of the cards, a twitch of a brow. The quirk of lips, then a glance towards Kellen. Finally, it was the brave little Seer who spoke up.

“I see the jig is up. Would you deny us our entertainment, Cece?” Fiona wheedled, her eyes large and brimming with their innocence, a display of her deceptive talents. Nathan didn’t even try to put on a puppy face, instead tipping his head in an effort to hide behind his hair. Sasha’s attempt at a convincing face looked more suited to a brothel. Then, there was Kellen.

Concern on his face was… it didn’t belong. The demon’s exotic face was practically carved to express disapproval. From his low set brow resting over the most worn, blazing eyes of literal hellfire, he gauntness to his cheeks which led into the sharp angle of his jaw. Hells Bells, even his lips were the damn poutiest Roslyn had ever laid eyes on. His face was young enough to be brotherly, yet the transition from dark black to frosty white along each tussle of hair gave the salt and pepper look of a father. Double doses of disapproval and disappointment, nuff to drag one’s stomach out their pucker and their heart into their gut. Heck, if his regality didn’t drown you, his dapper stylings were able to remind everyone that he was better. That he was far further refined than any mortal clutching at the nature of sophistication he had in the toes of his boot, nevermind his whole visage.

Why was he concerned now, of all times, for her? They clashed, so violently. He was due process, whereas she was chaos. She was the one who’d swept into town off of theft from murderers, and in turn pocketed their finest Ranger as her partner in, well, law. Criminally amazing law. Right, so she and Visconti also chaffed each other at first, yet how they’d come together as a team was leaving the other Wardens in the dust. They were better, she’d admit that while sloshed. They got things done, they helped PEOPLE as people instead of objectives. Instead of seeing that, Kellan seemed more disturbed that his Ranger was straying from the rigidness he’d shackled her in. Shackled to save… Mother night, it was fucked up. What he’d sacrificed and endured as punishment for revering life.

Cecelia. That was their common ground. Kellan might have been the man to have raised Cecelia, but he was not the one to draw her from her shell. He wasn’t what Roslyn was to the vampire. His presence was order, was the reminder of Cecelia’s indirect imprisonment. Roslyn was chaos. The freedom. Kellan was the ground, where Roslyn was the sky. Cecelia needed both, but for so long she’d been kept on the ground due to the hurricanes in her life. Roslyn refused to lose Cecelia to those hurricanes, just as she refused to accept that Cecelia should never use her wings. Yet, if she were Kellan, she doubted she could let go any easier than he. Kellan was Cecelia’s childhood, when she needed him. Roslyn was Cecelia’s true stride into adulthood, her testing of the shackles the Ward had groomed her to praise. Of all the nights, this was the one where Roslyn was the direction everyone needed Cecelia to step. The fact she lingered… this was way too heavy for her drunken mind to wrangle.

Cecelia’s loud sigh signaled her surrender.

“I suppose a dance in an innocent enough request.”

The table broke into cheers, all save Kellan taking up the encouraging chant.

“Dance. Dance, dance, dance.”

Kellan’s lips merely twitched into an approving line, a sip of his drink concealing the encouraging nod he sent Roslyn’s way. Somehow, her drunken mind latched onto the sense of victory, the acceptable and belonging of a family she’d never truly had. It was enough to make her smile, to lean closer to the cool body she’d been warming. Cecelia, for her credit, remained composed. Quite a feat, given she had a lap full of drunken Witch and a table chanting for her to make a public spectacle of herself right in front of the man who’d raised her. How she was so composed, Roslyn had no idea, only that this was not the night she’d envisioned. She needed to see that youth that immortality had preserved in Cecelia for so long. Needed to see those cheeks flush and that stoic veneer crack.

“Come on, lovely, I know several dances that don’t need any music.” The Witch purred, squirming, wiggling her rump deeper into the cave of Cecelia’s body until she could safely turn. Still, Cecelia barely seemed phased, watched with those gorgeous eyes. What Roslyn wouldn’t do to see the disguise fall way. To see the blood moon of the Visconti vampire. If even for a blink. With two fingers, pointer and middle, Roslyn stroked from the hinge of the jaw, a teasing touch that whispered across chilled flesh and fell from Cecelia’s pointed chin. As if she might wipe away the illusion, to see those terrifying depths. Was it even a case of willingness to drown anymore? Or had it become desire?

“You seem bereft of what little propriety you usually possess, little Witchling.” Cecelia’s response was delivered quietly, the tone relaxed, almost indifferent, save for the smallest catches. What such a tone did not possess was what urged Roslyn to push harder. Dared her, even. Then, there was Cecelia’s hand, lifted to catch hers. The Vampire prevented Roslyn’s second pass at a touch, yet those talons caught the Vampire’s earlobe, tugging it lightly even as she guided Roslyn’s hand down. All Roslyn could do was stare, lose herself in the depths of Cecelia’s eyes once more. Hunting. This was a hunt, the thrill running down Roslyn’s spine. Cecelia, the perfect prey, thus far… but how could a mere mortal hunt immorality? Unless… said immortal was playing the game.

That drew the most unholy of smirks to Roslyn’s face, even as she worked to throw one of her legs over Cecelia’s. Her legs hung, toes swinging, weight supported by nothing save the vampire. Flying and grounded. Earth and sky. Roslyn was the prey, with a hunter gracious enough to allow her dignity. All it would take is one movement, one moment where Cecelia lost herself or lost her patience, and Roslyn would bear the cost. She was so close to the fire, playing with an inferno. She had Cecelia between her thighs, more power than the most expensive stallion from any estate in the east. If Cecelia bucked… The Witch wanted that. She wanted Cecelia to buck, wanted the Vampire to lose her patience, to cling with more than the gentle hands against the curve of her waist.

“You could bereft me of far more, darling.” She purred, letting the huskiness of alcohol sink her voice into the sinful satiny tones. In a motion as smooth as silk, for a drunk at least, Roslyn slunk her arms around Cecelia’s neck, fingers weaving into the vampire’s glorious locks even as she rocked herself closer, leaving no space between herself and Cecelia. She had to cling with her thighs, squeeze the Vampire so she could lift herself out of the chair, to look down at her huntress. The Witch could only swallow, licking her lips before leaning close enough that her next words were only for the Vampire’s delicate ears.

“Then…” The Witch let her breath brush the shell of Cecelia’s ear, the tease of the corner of her mouth adding in as she let her words become heated. The filthiest things, every dark desire, her deepest secrets painted in the most scandalous of tones she could muster. Requests, nay, demands that would have demons blushing. That HAD demons blushing.

“HAH!” Fiona laughed in absolute awe; eyes blown wide. Roslyn’s met hers, the Witch giving that unholy smirk to the Seer for a split second before even Fiona found herself overwhelmed on Cecelia’s behalf.

“Oh hells… please stop.” Nathan groaned desperately, face flushed, eyes haunted. He had to avert his gaze when Roslyn’s teeth closed around Cecelia’s ear.

“Oh, please do continue. This is delightful… is she truly that flexible?” Sascha barked with glee, a glimmer of a demonic tongue brushing across his lower lip. The Incubus fed, eyes seeming to glow as he took in such a potent meal before him, only encouraged by the appearance of little horns peeking from beneath the table.

“According to the Lady’s Arms patrons? My mistress is the most flexible human they’ll ever meet!” Enzo declared almost proudly, earning a few tensed chuckles at the implications of such a statement. Roslyn was far too drunk to care. Lost in alcohol and power, in the game she so desperately needed to win, but so desperately wished to lose. Was there anything but victory from such a game? Something so pure could never be a loss, not for her, not for how the flames were licking up her spine. She could feel it, Cecelia’s composure cracking. It came in the pricks of talons. In the occasional flex between her thighs, something she answered with another dirty line expressing her appreciation. How close could she dance to this fire before it consumed her? It seemed she was never going to find out given the look of horror on Kellan’s face as he finally, FINALLY, spoke up. Given his discomfort, she couldn’t help but silently query if his voice was the only thing rising.

“Cecelia! For the seven layers of hells and every bell that might ring, shut Arosi up! Those of us with fine hearing don’t wish to hear such-”

“I’m sure I can find something to occu-”

Cecelia never let Roslyn finish. Cecelia’s hand came to her jaw, cradling it sweetly even as the pad of her thumb fell tenderly across the Witch’s lips. All it took was a single talon, pressed ever so tenderly to Roslyn’s lips for the Witch to still, to surrender. The moment Roslyn did, Cecelia gently slid her thumb away, caressing the line of Roslyn’s lip then the swell of her cheek, a gesture which stilled Roslyn’s heart.

“Quiet now, Witchling. I’ll give you your desired dance if you cease haunting our ghost. Your brazen attempts to make me blush are for naught.” The Vampire urged, corners of her lips twitching, teasing the smile Roslyn was so devoted to drawing out. The table, the Saloon, the world. Everything in existence needed to see the radiance. Such a small expression, something so simple and true, such beauty it could chase the darkness of evil from the comforting shadows of night.

“Give me an hour.” The Witch said, giving a sloppy waggle of her brows. That did it. Cecelia cracked, lips quirking up into the fondest smirk Roslyn had ever laid eyes on.

“You would be asleep within ten ticks, much less an hour.” Cecelia’s comment was delivered on a smile. Forever gentle hands gathered beneath the Witch’s thighs, holding them steady before Cecelia merely stood up, baring the weight as if it were that of a feather instead of an entire being. For a second, Roslyn simply indulged, smiling peacefully as she leaned her forehead into Cecelia’s collar. She was warmer, warmed by her contact with Roslyn, yet still refreshingly cool, enough that Roslyn could feel her body drooping into the relaxation, a realm of half consciousness and safety. Then Cecelia wasn’t holding her. Falling. She yelped, clawing at Cecelia.

“Careful!” The Vampire was equally as quick. One hand caught beneath her thigh, encouraging the leg around her waist even as the vamp’s other arm wrapped around her torso. Again, she was weightless, held aloft by Cecelia’s strength. Again, she was entangled with the Vampire, wrapped around her, poised to climb her like a tree if only she had the courage and lack of… Oh no. She absolutely had the lack of propriety down. Drunken misbehaviour. The brattiness, in public, complete with the clinging. The wicked gleam in Cecelia’s eye as she led Roslyn to the makeshift dancefloor… The Witch’s cheeks flushed, leading her to curse her complexion. There was no way anybody was going to miss her blushing, nor her previous antics. Hells, she was never going to live this down, not if the smirk upon Cecelia’s face was any indication.

“I won’t dance if it proves a danger to you.” The warning was given light heartedly, a soft, intimate whisper as Cecelia drew Roslyn in close. Already, it was apparent the Witch barely had her feet, yet as always Cecelia was there to ground her. To be the very ground she stood upon. Without a blink, Cecelia had Roslyn standing on her feet, had her held impossibly close.

“How else are we meant to celebrate the date you were born?”

The innocent question punched the air from Cecelia’s immortal lungs. Mother night, it tore her back hundreds of years. Back to when the day held meaning. To memories of a time before Kellan. Before the Ward. Where the ballrooms were alive, where she… The answer was so close, yet so far. So very, very far from Cecelia’s grasp. All she could do was sigh, was close her eyes and lean her cool forehead to Roslyn’s clammy one with a solitary observation.

“You know.”

“Of course I know. It’s important to know that about your family!” Roslyn’s earnest statement lured Cecelia’s eyes open, the impact of the unspoken acknowledgement a gift unlike any she’d received in her long life. She smiled, not one of her above mortality, tragic smiles, but a true smile, complete with a glimmer of fang. It was a smile which shook Roslyn to the core. Upon Cecelia’s feet, Roslyn finally stood at even height, their faces aligned. It was effortless, to lose herself in the beauty of Cecelia’s face so close to her own. To feel how their breath mingled in the tiniest of spaces between their lips. With a flush unattributed to alcohol, the Witch babbled on.

“It took a lot of magic though. And Kellan.” The conclusion of Roslyn’s explanation only proved her dedication. For Roslyn to willingly have sought out Kellan, to have chosen to confide in him, even for Cecelia… It went beyond Roslyn’s appreciation for him as someone in Cecelia’s life, or as her boss.

“It is alarming is that you, of all of us, got him to the table.” She noted. An absolutely monumental understatement. Their conflict went beyond Kellan’s hazing a tenderfoot approach to Roslyn as a member of the team. Truth be told, Cecelia had half expected Roslyn to give Kellan a bad plum in leu of an apple when Kellan declared the trials. Their tensions even went further than Roslyn thinking Kellan a ten-cent man, and he finding the Witch to be a bag of nails. It was her. Roslyn’s issues had only grown worse once she knew precisely what Kellan’s role had been in Cecelia’s upbringing.

Just as his hostility towards Roslyn had only increased once he recognised her connection to Cecelia. The temptation she could become, had become. What she was only proved to be the icing on one very hostile cake. The fact that they were beginning to bury the hatchet, instead of simply co-exist was just another priceless gift.

“I wanted you to have fun, and instead lost myself in my cup trying to flavour my blood before you even arrived. I was going to let you bite me so we could watch the sunrise. Sascha suggested some different drinks… I ruined your surprise! I’m going to be grouchier than a bear with a sore head come morning.” Roslyn deflated, squeezing her hand just that little tighter on Cecelia’s bicep.

“Then it seems we will both be hiding from the sun.” Cecelia sighed, unable to conceal her smile as she leaned back. The tickle of Roslyn’s hair against her nose was the smallest of prices to pay to deliver the gentlest kiss to the Witch’s forehead. A gesture which had Roslyn smiling too, creeping from the melancholy that had been nipping at her heels.

“You’ll be a…” Cecelia trailed off, mischief brewing in her stormy eyes. As she continued in a sing song voice.

“What is it you called me? An adorable, grumpy little muffin?”

“You were all pouty! an’ to think, here I was tryin’ ta be nice to ya.” The Witch laughed, shaking her head a little at the gall Cecelia had to throw her own words back at her. That was a low blow. Totally uncalled for… adorable too. A little kitten mewling.

“I sincerely appreciate the sentiment, little delinquent.“ Cecelia crooned in return. Roslyn shrugged, unable to focus on anything but the gentle curve of Cecelia’s lips. The hint of fangs behind the midnight red curtain. Mindlessly, Roslyn tipped her head forwards, playfully nuzzling the Vampire’s jaw before her ear once more settled over Cecelia’s shoulder, forehead nestled into the safety of Cecelia’s neck. There, tucked away in the scoop of Cecelia’s body, swaying in slow circles to the sweetest notes of a steady piano, Roslyn yawned, her smile shifted into contentment. Cecelia sighed too, tilting her head so that she could rest her cheek to Roslyn’s temple. Together, they swayed, enraptured by one another, lost on the tide of the piano’s melody. Cecelia, drowning in the orchestra of Roslyn’s heartbeat. Of her soul. All of which fell secondary to the sweetest whisper, like the touch of wind across the desert on a still night.

"Happy Birthday, Lady Cecelia Visconti.”

“Thank you.”

Cecelia’s response was honest. Sincere. Spoken from the heart. Even drunk, Roslyn could see it in her eyes. How gentle they were, soft, with a droopiness to them. For once, it was not Cecelia trying to appear harsher, nor watching for danger. There it was. The chasm in the veneer Roslyn had so desperately desired, mere millimetres from her face. Overwhelming, like how the Sun’s light drowned the moon out every day, but still the moon shone, as did every star. Only, they were within Cecelia’s eyes. Mother Night, they were in Cecelia’s eyes. Roslyn could only smile, even with her cheek rested to Cecelia’s lace covered shoulder, giggling at the tickle of Cecelia’s hair in conflict with the scratchiness of the lace.

“So,” Roslyn begun, her smile only growing as she saw Cecelia tilt her chin that little bit closer, as if trying to connect their gazes once more.

“are you ready to tell me how old you really are?”

Cecelia cracked. Her warm, rich laughter vibrated in her chest, disrupting Roslyn’s resting place. When faced with such a thing, what else could be done but to giggle along, to bathe in a moment where the weight of the world was not upon their shoulders? Where they could be young, drunk and ditzy without it leading to the cost of lives. Where the Ward had no power to punish Cecelia, or leverage her life against Kellan. Where, they could just be. Roslyn laughed too, turning her head so that she could playfully try to sneak a kiss through the lace over Cecelia’s collar. Whether it was the pressure, the heat of her mouth or the wet of her kiss, Cecelia seemed to feel something. Her chest swelled, and for one glistening moment, they were completely still. A snapshot in time.

“Oh my darling Witch, you still have not learned it is rude to query a woman’s age.”

#answered #anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #cecelia visconti #cecelia x mc #wicked lawless love #fluff #fluffy #touching thursday

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