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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

weird, m | ksj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader

summary: Your roommate and best friend, Kim Seokjin, forgot to double-check the autofill information and shipped his package from the online sex shop with your name on it. Naturally, this ends with you tying him up and sucking his dick, and him tying you up with you riding him like a wild animal. Wait, what?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends with benefits; crack (sorry, I can't be serious for more than two seconds when writing Seokjin); yes, reader usually fucks younger dudes XD; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics (both switches), bondage, m-receiving oral, thigh riding, cowgirl, spanking); non-idol!BTS - just two best friends fucking for sexual exploration, don't mind them

technically a prequel to love roulette, m | myg yes, this is the explanation to that mysterious package, but is it really an explanation or rather an excuse to fuck WWH, you decide

“Seokjin, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

When Kim Seokjin looked at you, it was a bit like looking into the eyes someone much younger than you even though he wasn’t. He had that youth about him, the ‘here’s-to-never-growing-up’ sparkle in his large brown eyes, complete with parted lips in a small ‘o’ and, alright, yes, his Nintendo Switch in his hands.

“A long time ago, I asked you which way you think you lean, more dominant or more submissive, no?”

His handsome face flushed pink, slowly scooting away from you.

“Er… yeah, I remember…”

“What?”

“Huh?”

You poked him and he squeaked, slapping a hand over his side even though he was wearing a brown sweatshirt. Seokjin was always cold, even during the summer.

Your best friend was an odd character.

You chuckled. “Why are you being so awkward? I thought we were over this phase.”

Well, he should be. You had known Seokjin since elementary school and seen him, er, date was a strong word for what you both were doing in middle and high school, more like being bumbling messes and walking in on each other bonking classmates, but, hey, what mattered is that you both got better at it over the years.

It being sex.

Not romance.

You both still had only sketchy ideas about what romance was supposed to be.

“We are,” your best friend coughed, clearing his throat for absolutely no reason. “We are, I just…”

“Used my name for purchasing goods from an online sex shop?”

He choked and nearly flung his Switch. You caught it, swiftly placing it on the coffee table as you procured the cardboard box from behind your back, already open, address and name circled in thick black permanent marker on the rather inconspicuous package.

“W-What, that’s absurd, why would I ever–?”

You hummed pleasantly, sweeping the box away from his lanky limbs and his flailing hands. For someone who didn’t purchase goods from an online sex shop, he sure was interested in getting the box. He tumbled into your lap, and quickly scrambled back, black hair suddenly fluffed and wild from the movement.

“Something tells me you didn’t check the autocomplete form before clicking submit.”

You saw Seokjin choke on air.

He jerked away from you and fumbled with his phone beside him. You peeked over his broad shoulder and saw that he was scrolling through his emails like a madman, except Seokjin had a bad habit of never deleting any. He had maybe fifteen thousand unread emails to sort though.

“You don’t have to check. I am sure I didn’t order red cotton bondage rope and a leather flogger.”

Seokjin whipped his head around, face redder than a tomato, looking halfway between fainting and screaming.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is it for you or a mysterious imaginary girl that you’re dating?”

Now your best friend seemed to be contemplating holding his own breath until he passed out to avoid your questioning.

“I-It’s not for me!”

“Oooh, then who? You’re not an internet hookup kind of guy though… unless she was dumb enough to put her full name as her username, then she’s too airheaded to be a catfish–”

Seokjin flapped his hands, smacking you in your pajama-covered chest, sputtering. “No one! There’s no one! I just…!”

You caught one of his wrists, raising an eyebrow.

“Just?”

He froze.

Silence.

“… Seokjin?”

You left go of his hand. It stayed there, frozen in the air.

Ah, it seemed as if his soul left his body.

Rest in peace Kim Seokjin. You were the handsomest best friend one could ask for.

You prodded him in the side again and Seokjin doubled over, trying to cover his face with the large sleeves of his sweatshirt, long legs in black sweatpants curling up as if he could cocoon himself away from the conversation.

“Seokjin, you can be interested in whatever you want,” you snickered, placing the package next to his fetal positioned body. “I simply thought it was funny that you accidentally used my name. Although I wouldn’t use that flogger on a real person, only for posing in pictures. In any case, have fun being freaky by yourself and not for some mysterious woman you refuse to tell me about.”

You stood up, about to leave and give your best friend some space. You shouldn’t go too far teasing him after all.

“What do you mean?”

You stopped, looking back. Seokjin’s large brown eyes were peeking out of his splayed fingers, shifting awkwardly when you made eye contact. He cleared his throat. He was doing that a lot for someone who seemed perfectly healthy ten minutes ago, shrieking at himself for missing the ledge in his game and dying.

It had seemed like a good time to interrupt and embarrass him so you could save your eardrums.

He coughed and pointed to the box. “About the… um… whip… thingmabob…”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You marched over and opened the box, making Seokjin jolt and cover his red ears instinctively, but you ignored him, pulling out the black pleather flogger you had already unwrapped from the plastic – purely from thinking it was your own package, by the way, no other reason, surely not because you were mildly curious about what your best friend was into, nope – and you slapped the short three tails into your hand, wincing.

“This kind of cheap material is too plastic-like. If you use this on bare skin and hit too hard, you’re going to cut someone and I know you’re squeamish around blood, unless you secretly have a blood fetish too and have been a really good actor all this time–”

“How do you know that?”

You blinked at his question.

“What?”

Seokjin sat up, giving you a confused pout. “Why do you know something like that?”

Now it was your turn to shift your eyes around.

“Uh…”

Er… how to tell your best friend that the younger guy you were casually fucking for the past couple of weeks was, ah, rather knowledgeable about certain things, was, um, interested in teaching, uh, yeah, teaching…

Seokjin squinted at you suspiciously. “Is it that idol trainee that was here two nights ago when I was out drinking with Hose–”

You waved your hands very quickly, tossing the flog aside carelessly and slapping your thigh to silence Seokjin and his far too invasive questions. “Look. I just don’t want you to hurt anybody on accident, okay? Your rope choice was good though. You should always use an organic material for shibari, cotton, hemp, linen if you’re rich, but you’re a cheapskate, so–”

Your best friend narrowed his eyes into slits. “How much younger is that guy compared to you again? Hm? And what was his name? Ye–”

You slapped a hand over Seokjin’s mouth, smiling sweetly and dangerously, reaching into the box and pulling out the red cotton rope.

“I know a lot of knots now and I can tie a noose just for you, Seokjinnie.”

Your best friend, rightfully so, looked terrified.

“Now. Let’s talk about you, okay? Okay.”

You removed your hand and held onto the rope.

Seokjin gulped, but then shook his head vigorously, frowning. “What did you call it?” He was already moving past your death threat. Smart man.

“Call what?”

“Shi-something?”

“Shibari? Japanese rope tying?” You lifted the cotton cord in your hand. “Is that not what this is for?”

Seokjin blinked very rapidly.

You blinked back at him. Then it dawned onto you. “The diamond-y rope patterns where they’re all tied up and stuff.”

“Ah! Yeah! That!”

“You want that done to you?”

Seokjin jerked to one side. “What? No! To someone else. Maybe. No. What?”

You slowly placed the rope on his lap and scooted away.

“Uh… huh. Okay. Enjoy.”

“Wait,” he blurted.

“What?”

“CanIpracticeonyou?”

“Can you WHAT?” you echoed shrilly.

“Right, yeah, okay, never mind–”

“Seokjin.”

Your best friend choked on his own toothbrush and threw himself into the bathroom wall, colliding into the towel bar and howling in pain while simultaneously hacking up a lung.

“I’ve decided I am going to teach you some simple knots to prevent me from having to pick your naked ass up from the police station or hospital,” you said calmly as Seokjin half-died on the floor tangled in your mint green and his navy-blue bath towels. “And because I don’t want to have to cut some poor girl off your bedframe because you’ve blacked out running onto your door trying to find me.”

“I’ve never–” he wheezed.

“But you will if I don’t take precautions,” you cut in, grabbing your purple toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it as Seokjin attempted to collect himself off the ground. “Like that one time you ran into the window when that wasp was in the apartment.”

“That was a fucking wasp, you freaked out too!”

You started brushing your teeth. “Yeah, but I didn’t knock myself out and wake up with a fat bump on my forehead. That was you,” you gargled.

“Ack…”

“Anyway, I know a few things and I figured I would do a good deed and enlighten you.”

“Who taught you? Was it Ye–”

You jabbed Seokjin forcefully in the ribs and he immediately shut up because he choked on his toothbrush again.

“Why do you have scissors?”

“For cutting the rope.”

“Yeah, but why are they so big?”

“That’s what she said.”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Cool, now I’m gonna tie you up. Give me your hands.”

You unwound the end from the bolt and frowned, nudging his knee with yours. You were both sitting on his bed, him cross legged and you on your knees because he was wearing black sweatpants and you were wearing no pants, just your usual large lavender pajama shirt with a pattern of yellow stars.

“Take off your sweatshirt. It’ll get in the way.”

“But I’m cold.”

“You won’t be because apparently this shit turns you on,” you snickered.

“Shut up, it does not. It’s the other way around,” Seokjin grumbled, yanking his chocolate brown sweatshirt over his head.

You paused.

“I thought you were more sub.”

Seokjin froze, head half-out of his sweatshirt. You waited. He didn’t move. You waited some more. He coughed and chucked the article of clothing aside, yanking his white t-shirt down and smoothing his hair, not looking at you.

You waited.

He smoothed his hair for a full two minutes.

“Um, anyway–”

You planted a hand on his knee and Seokjin tried to chop your hand away, only for you to snatch his wrist, so his other hand came up to stop you, but you wound the end of the rope around his wrist and bounced off his mattress, pinning your knees on top of his knees and making him squeak as he tumbled back into his pillows, bringing you with him. You had to jerk your head out of the way to avoid collision.

“My nuts!”

“I didn’t hit your precious nuts, you numbsku–”

Hang on.

You locked eyes with Seokjin under you, who gawked back at you, absolutely terrified.

“… You are still a sub.”

Seokjin winced. “Ugh, it’s just… I’m getting older, alright? I can change my mind…”

You could get off him. You could let it be. You totally could.

But were you going to?

No.

You straddled his abdomen and brought his hands to his chest with a big grin. Seokjin’s eyes turned into giant brown saucers. He looked ready to pass out and not from your weight because you weren’t putting much weight on him.

“W-W-What are y-you d-doing?!” he shrieked.

You rapped him in the forehead. “Teaching. Pay attention. Hands up.”

“You aren’t taking your rings off?”

He was referring to the three silver rings you wore on a daily basis – an onyx stone on your left middle finger, a goat-head shaped ring on your right thumb, and a skull with a jester hat on your right ring finger.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do I need to take them off?”

He lifted his hands and gave you an exaggerated shrug in between your thighs. Come to think of it, Seokjin had a rather broad chest so you had to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate and hover over him.

Precarious.

“Ah, perfect.”

Your best friend yelped as you wrapped the rope around his wrists, leaving the end sticking out between them, first focusing on loosely binding. He tried to break away, but you harshly squeezed his sides with your thighs, narrowing your eyes.

“Stop squirming.”

He froze at your cold tone, shifting his eyes awkwardly.

“Watch. Now.”

His eyes immediately snapped to your hands.

“Wrists together.” You nudged them so the inner parts of the wrists were touching. “A little space in the center,” you added, looping out the end of the rope. “I’m just teaching you how I learned it, there are a few ways, but the details are important so you don’t prevent loss of circulation,” you added seriously, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “So, wind it around a couple times, but don’t overlap. Four or five?”

“But I can still get out.”

You glared at him. Seokjin shut up and jammed his plush pink lips together, shaking his head rapidly as if to say, who me? I wasn’t talking!

“Turn it ninety degrees like this,” you demonstrated. “And start going perpendicular to and in between the wrists to create the binding. Line up each coil side by side. Mind the starting end here. Then…” You reached for the scissors and snipped the excess away, dropping the rope and scissors beside you on the bed. “You tie it off on the outside. I use a square knot, so this end over this end, and then retie it the opposite way. Try to break free.”

Seokjin frowned at the red rope around his wrists, twisting it this way and that, squirming underneath your legs. You put your hands on your waist triumphantly, nodding to yourself in pride. You did a good job! It looked neat and it was inescapable without tightening on any blood vessels to cause any dangerous loss of circulation.

Hang on.

Seokjin froze.

You froze.

You both looked down.

You smacked him in the cheek.

“Ow!”

“What are you looking there for?!”

“Why did you hit me? Why do you always resort to violence?!” Seokjin accused, jabbing you underneath your breasts with his bound hands. “What is going on down there?”

“Nothing! Stop moving!”

“No!”

“You–”

You closed your thighs around Seokjin’s waist and sat down on him, causing him to gasp, wind knocked out of him as his diaphragm was pushed up into his lungs, struggling with the rope between his wrists and resorting to slamming them down on the bed above his head. You growled as you towered over him. He started yelling, as he always did.

“Yah!”

You slapped your free hand over his mouth.

“Silence.”

He glared at you behind your palm, breathing hard. You sat on top of him, breathing just as hard. He was bigger, strong, yes, but not in the position of power and – being honest, after all – your best friend was never really out to fight you and win. He was more of a ‘I’m-going-to-be-stupidly-annoying-until-you-do-what-I-want’ type, which made him rather childish in some ways. You were more of the ‘I’m-gonna-beat-your-ass’ type.

In conclusion, it was a healthy friendship.

Seokjin started licking your palm and making crazy eyes at you.

Your eye twitched.

“Stop it.”

Unsurprisingly, he did not, in fact, stop it.

“I said, stop it.”

And you slid down, past the wet spot now on his t-shirt, planting your soaked panties on top of his crotch, grinding down, and, yup, Seokjin bucked and yelped, immediately stopping and seizing up as if he could hide the massive erection that you had been willing to ignore but he was being a little – nah, actually, an extra-large, supersized – shit and it was getting on your last nerve, so what better way to resolve a wordless argument (on his part, heh) then humping his hard-on?

You removed your hand and Seokjin had a brief moment to gasp your name before you slid the pads of your fingers onto his tongue, rubbing it roughly and making his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“I told you to stop, but you aren’t listening,” you snarled.

Seokjin whimpered, brown orbs glassy, pupils blown out.

You stilled.

Hold on a second.

You had a brief epiphany where you realized you were grinding on your best friend’s dick with him tied up and you were wetter than the Yellow Sea. This wasn’t some guy you picked up at the night market that won you that sleeping Pikachu at the claw machines, only to chat him up and end up with bed with a guy who was – ack, never mind his age – anyway, this was your best friend.

Kim Seokjin.

Oh shit, I’ve gone too far.

You let go, backing up. “S… Sorry, I–”

But then Seokjin’s plush lips closed around your fingers, sucking hard and you choked slightly, feeling his hips roll and the tip of his clothed erection hit your covered clit. He was glaring at you. You gasped as his teeth gently but firmly caught your two fingers. It did hurt, but only a little. Mostly it sent a rush of rather uncomfortable and mind-boggling arousal racing from your knuckles to your core, drenching your panties further.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbled around your fingers.

Don’t stop?

DON’T STOP?

His teeth let go, panting, staring into your eyes.

“Don’t make this weird,” Seokjin muttered, shifting his gaze. “Don’t make this weird, okay?”

His brown eyes flickered back to you. His bound hands were still over his head, black hair flaring out of his pillows, white t-shirt messed up, still trapped between your thighs. You paused, fingers slipping out of his lips, the pads trailing on his lower lip, turning it glossy with his saliva.

Your heart was racing fast.

He furrowed his dark brows and, for the first time, his serious expression made you think that perhaps, maybe, there was a side of him down there, the other side to the coin.

“I just…” Seokjin exhaled slowly, not looking away from you. “I trust you to do this. You’re capable and knowledgeable. I know you are. Word gets around with your, er, habits with younger guys…”

You felt your cheeks heat and you scratched your head awkwardly.

“Anyway, it’s fine if you wanna… er… get off. With me. Because I’m so handsome and all.”

You were thiiiiiiis close to leaving out of sheer embarrassment that instantly dissipated at Seokjin’s sudden unexpected self-compliment. Instead, your eye twitched and you squinted in annoyance.

Seokjin coughed, ears singeing bright red. “Unless you can’t, of course. Because it’s easy to fall in love with me, and that would be very bad considering I don’t want to marry you–”

“I don’t want to marry you either,” you snapped. “You’re ugly.”

Seokjin gasped dramatically, highly offended. “How dare you–!”

He abruptly sat up and you twisted back, only for his arms to swing over your head and sandwich you between his tied wrists and his chest, ramming you back onto his lap and his hard dick. You hissed and bit down your moan, not willing to admit it was mildly turning you on, because of course neither you or Seokjin hated each other – only in that classic way best friends hate and love each other at the same time – and, yeah, sure, you could admit Seokjin was handsome and cute and fun to be around, but he wasn’t the one, not that you knew what the one was supposed to feel like or knew if you would ever feel such an intense, romantic love, but you had this strange idea that the one for you would be someone who could understand you on a different level, and you didn’t have that with Seokjin even if you did talk all the time. You were quite sure the feeling was mutual and now, looking into his brown eyes with a scowl, you saw that the feeling was indeed mutual.

Also, Seokjin was an immature shithead.

A loveable, worldwide handsome, immature shithead. Redeemable.

Still.

You were horny.

And Seokjin was horny.

You weren’t going to date Seokjin ever, but your best friend was hot as hell and you could definitely bang him without any regrets.

“Let’s fuck,” he breathed into your face.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t make it weird.”

Don’t make it weird, yeah, okaaay dude–

Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when Seokjin kissed you.

His forearms closed in behind your back and he pressed his bound wrists into your shoulder blades, pushing you into his solid chest and his embrace, taking your breath away. He always had good hugs, even if they were just to comfort you when your favorite flavor of ice lollys stopped being stocked at your local grocery store – still tragic to this day – and even when he was clinging onto you like a howling monkey because a cockroach was in the bathroom and he was screaming at you to kill it and nearly blowing out your eardrums, even then…

Now.

You closed your legs in around his hips and rolled your crotch into him, suddenly kissing him back.

He gasped into your mouth, your eyes half-opening, him gazing back at you, long lashes and dark eyebrows and glowing tan skin, holy shit, your best friend was handsome as fuck, why did other men even try when Kim Seokjin existed?

“Are you falling in love with me because I’m so handsome?” Seokjin teased, nipping at your lower lip.

Your eye twitched. Oh, yes, that’s right, because you’re annoying.

You shoved him and he yelped, clutching your back as you both fell onto the bed with a flump! You slid out from under his arms, skin prickling at Seokjin’s involuntary whine at your departure. Don’t make this weird, yeah, okay, don’t turn me on this much, dumbass, you are reminding me of… You pushed the thought away.

You didn’t want to think about other people when the person you were touching was right in front of you.

“What are you – yah!”

You gripped the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked down, exposing his underwear – bright blue, nice, nice – and his clothed erection, leaning in, hot breath ghosting over it, Seokjin jerking his arms about because he seemed undecided on either if he wanted to see or not see, but you let him deal with that in his own time, lowering your mouth, tongue extended, fingers splayed over his hips, silver rings glinting in his bedroom lights.

“You look like a demon,” you heard from above you.

You planted your tongue on the spot where the head of his cock would be and soaked it with saliva.

“F-Fuck!”

That shut him up real quick.

Your eyes drifted up, lapping slowly, barely stimulating the sensitive head through his underwear, closing your lips around it so the fabric clung wetly to the taut skin underneath. His cock swelled and twitched under your mouth; the action was mirrored by Seokjin’s jaw. He was clenching it along with his hands balled into fists, gasping for breath.

“O-Oh, f-fuck…!”

You were beginning to get the hint with each passing second of working your tongue around his rapidly hardening cock. Seokjin had put himself in the sub category when you asked back then because he liked to things being done for him. It was less about the mental aspect and more of the physical acts of service in his case. However, he wasn’t very good at articulating what he wanted and thus the natural pattern of someone just doing it led to, ah, exhibit A.

You currently parting your lips and letting your tongue snake out, coating the length with saliva.

But.

You could see it in his eyes, that burning intensity.

Maybe part of it was because it was you. He probably didn’t have those butterfly jitters of trying to woo a stranger or the nervousness of looking bad in the honeymoon phase of a relationship. There was already a level of comfort – and the ability to readily shit-talk each other at any moment – and so Seokjin was free to relax, even if it was a bizarre situation of sexual discovery.

“Take it off,” he growled.

Your fingers creeped up his sides, hooking over his boxer briefs. Slow, deliberate, kissing up his length, on the tightrope, dominant in your control, submissive in the action, raising your head so Seokjin could lift his hips, feathering kisses on the exposed skin and making him hiss and shudder, eyelids fluttering, slipping into subservience a little.

At the end of the day, who killed the unwanted bugs in your shared apartment?

Yeah, you.

“Oh, f… fucking shit…”

You tilted your head and ran your tongue up and down the length, licking up the sides and circling around the thick head, bordering on frustratingly soft, switching to wet, sloppy kisses when his hands raised, making him pause, gazing down at you curiously and attentively, entranced by the action. You ducked down, tongue slurping around his balls, lifting his cock, kissing, sucking, eyes closing, tip of your wet muscle drawing zig-zag patterns that soft skin.

Seokjin moaned your name.

A shiver of electricity went up your spine.

Alright, fine, you were getting turned on.

You wrapped your lips around his balls and enveloped them both with your mouth.

“Whoa!”

You opened your eyes to see Seokjin staring wide-eyed at you, hands straight up to stare at you between his upper arms. You almost laughed at the hilarious triangular-looking pose, but your mouth was currently full, so you restrained yourself.

“That’s possible?! You can put both nuts in your mouth at the same time?!”

Uh.

Where you supposed to respond with your cheeks stuffed with his nutties?

You hummed casually in response.

“A-Ah…!”

Seokjin gasped at the vibrations and the movement of your tongue slapping all over them, short, rapid licks all over his skin, watching him with a cocked eyebrow, but he didn’t even notice, hands dropping and moaning to the ceiling, his eyes closing and savoring the hot wet warmth and the power of your mouth, shivering as your hand slowly stroked his length in time with your tongue.

You let him bask in it before detaching and swallowing his cock.

“Gah!”

Seokjiinie, you thought wryly, we gotta work on your repertoire of sex sounds.

You spied him looking down at you, so you paused around the swollen head and slid your tongue out, circling and wrapping around his length while sucking on the tip and rubbing the back of your tongue along the underside.

Seokjin made a bunch of weird croaking noises that were, strangely, rather attractive. Okay, you could admit it. You were kind of a sucker for your best friend in the most platonic way possible… while in the middle of sucking his dick.

What?

He was handsome!

You began to bob your head up and down, tongue and lips descending, taking him deep so you kissed the base of his cock, head buried in your throat, waiting for him to glance down at you, hazy brown orbs under lush lashes, and you would peek your tongue out and lap at his balls, interrupting the tightness, causing him to swear and jerk his hips up, urging you to keep consistent speed and pace, all the while watching every single movement of your tongue. You kept this irregular pace, slow, then fast, then slow again when he looked at you, then fast when the ecstasy was too much and he closed his eyes, over and over. You could see that a battle was being waged Seokjin’s pretty head, between wanting to observe the lewdness of you licking his balls with his hard cock buried in your throat while also desperately needing to get to the fuck off.

“You… bitch… suck me off properly, fuck…”

You raised all the way so only the head was in your mouth and sucked, rubbing up and around it, swirling all over, teasing the slit and soaking the sensitive skin, rutting it against the roof of your mouth and Seokjin groaned, pressing his head back into the pillows, black hair covering his eyes, fists pressed to his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, let me cum!”

His hips rammed up and you dug your nails into them, wincing as the head hit the top of your throat and slid down, cutting off your air, and then he began to thrust erratically, the position, inability to use his hands as leverage, and your resistance not letting him set up a good rhythm. You had to force him back down, popping your mouth off, snarling.

“I’m gonna gag if you do that! You want me to vomit on your dick or what?”

But all of a sudden Seokjin sat up again, grabbing your pajama shirt and yanking you to him, saliva dripping down your chin and then it was on his chin, a messy, savage kiss, ravenous need in his actions, pulling you to him, close, closer, you twisting and then gasping as he pushed one of your thighs down, planting your soaked panties on the exposed part of his thigh.

“Ah, Seok–”

He attacked your lips again with a light growl, sparks shooting across your skin, his thigh rising and bouncing you both on the bed, his legs still tangled in his pants and underwear but the effect was undeniable.

Seokjin was making you ride his thigh.

Whoa.

He bit your lower lip and sucked hard, your eyes fluttering closed, hips rocking, heat turning hotter, wet turning wetter, your sticky, sweet juices clinging to his upper thigh, your own pressed against his saliva-covered cock, wrapping your arms around him, close, closer, you thrusting your tongue in his mouth and him moaning before he did the same to you, starting a tug of war, rubbing harder against his skin, his muscle tensing against your covered clit, friction and wetness everywhere, too many clothes and no eye contact, one of your hands slipping into his black locks and tilting his head, deepening the kiss and inhaling his exhale, shuddering at the erotic nature of the moment.

He mumbled your name against your lips, still clutching your pajamas, stars bunched in his hands, fingertips pressed into the curve of your breasts.

“Can I try the rope tying now?” Seokjin whispered, voice gravelly and low.

“Excuse me?”

There was a ripped-open condom wrapper sitting on the bed.

“What?”

Your pajama shirt, bra, and panties were on the floor, along with Seokjin’s shirt, sweatpants, and underwear.

“Why are you – gah!”

You sucked in a breath as you sank down on his cock. Fuck, it was tight, tight as you lowered yourself onto his hips, Seokjin gasping and clutching the long length of red cotton rope that you had carefully untied from his wrists. You had even taken the extra step to massage them afterward, not that he needed it because of your careful work – good job, past you – but he appreciated it all the same, because deep down Kim Seokjin was a prince.

“Oh my God, you’re so tight, shit, shit, shit…”

You neglected to tell your best friend that you were both low-key proud of and turned on by your own ability to take dick without much foreplay. That little edge of tightness added just the right amount of spice of pain that amplified to the pleasure.

Okay.

And yes, you felt a special kind of glee as you witnessed Seokjin’s stunned shock and near passed-out expression from being inside you.

You held out your wrists and grinned. “Go ahead. Tie me up.”

Seokjin gawked at you like you had three heads.

You squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, tilting your head with a devilish grin.

“God, you’re so hot, but you look crazy,” he wheezed.

Your grin dropped and your eye twitched. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or…?”

Seokjin shrugged, and moved your hands so they were in the better position for him. Much to your annoyance, he didn’t elaborate.

“Um, let’s see, you left a bit out to use as a tie and…”

You began to rock your hips.

“H-Hey!”

The side of your lips curved upward. “What? We’re multitasking.”

“We–?” Seokjin choked, gritting his teeth as you pulsed around his hard length, rolling your hips gently, adjusting until you found a comfortable spot so the head hit you in just the right spot, ah, yes, right there, spreading your fingers out over his chest, leaning your forehead against his, not quite going full force but a slow, deliberate rhythm that wasn’t going to make either of you cum, but, damn, did it feel good.

Seokjin shuddered, gasping your name.

“Tie me up, Seokjin,” you murmured back, caressing his skin.

His eyes darted up, saturated with lust, searching your eyes, and you gazed back.

You could be a real jerk right now.

His hot exhale washed over your lips, a shudder of nervousness.

But this was your best friend, and he was trusting you.

You tilted your head and kissed him softly, flush against his plush lips.

“Come on,” you nudged his nose lightly. “Do it.”

You viewed him from under your lashes. He shivered. Almost.

He needed only one more little push.

“Want you, Seokjinnie,” you breathed against his skin, hints of need and desperation in your voice.

A small smile danced on his lips, staring into your eyes.

You might have fallen for him a little bit in that moment.

“Okay.”

He kissed the side of your mouth, a teasing little peck, and you smirked, turning your head so you wouldn’t break the image you had created for him, but he was already looking down, busily occupied with your wrists, so you drew back, focusing instead on riding him, closing your eyes. You built a leisurely, pleasurable pace, leaning forward a bit to rub your clit against the base of his cock, sighing contentedly at the way he filled you, a wonderful, thick, satisfying girth that you could get used to, other than the fact that most of the time Seokjin drove you up the wall, but, hey, maybe if both of you reached a certain age and you were still single, maybe you could marry your best friend solely for having accessible dick…

“Ah! Perfect.”

You cracked open one eye.

And tried not to burst out laughing.

“Erm… well…” you coughed, tugging at the rope a little. It looked messy and rather hideous, parts overlapping and twisting awkwardly, but he had the… basic idea? It wasn’t like you were going to do anything dumb anyway, so it was pretty good for a first time.

Seokjin frowned. “I don’t know how you did it so neatly…”

“You line up the coils next to each other – ah!”

He seemed to think that was good enough and grabbed handfuls of your ass, causing you to tip forward and brace your hands against his chest, gasping as his hips thrust up into you, abrupt pleasure blooming up your core, sudden squelch of wetness between your joined hips.

“Come on,” he grunted, clenching his jaw, tone getting deeper and more dangerous with each word. “I have to get off, and now.”

He smacked his hands down on your ass and you almost whimpered.

Almost.

Seokjin drew back a little, giving you a strange look.

“W… What?” you managed to get out.

He tilted his head. “Do you like that?”

You almost said, no, of course not, but you stopped yourself, looking down at the red rope tied around your wrists, heat flaring in your cheeks, ass stinging slightly from his slap.

His cock twitched inside you.

Your eyes flickered up to him. A sly smirk danced on your lips.

“Yeah. I like the things you do to me.”

You saw Seokjin pause, brown eyes widening a little, black hair over his forehead.

You pushed him down on the bed. He gasped, but he was used to it now, gripping your ass and tipping his head back as you began to really ride him, waving your hips to ram his cock into your pussy, not even noticing the moan seeping from your lips, fuck, it was good, fulfilling and deep, your bound hands on his chest, fingers spread out and nails digging into his skin a little, but Seokjin seemed to be into it, his own nails sinking into your ass, pushing you down with every descent, hitting you harder, rougher, intensifying the pleasure, building onto it. Hot breath, warm skin, joined hips, loud slaps, rocking bedframe, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes, not quite seeing each other but drowning in the gratification, the roughness, gasping sharply as his open palm smacked down on your ass again, making it bounce and jiggle in his hands, your core and thighs squeezing tighter, witnessing his tight hiss of desire, mesmerized by your sound so he did it again, spanking the other cheek, and you did it again, whimper creeping out, arousal consuming his handsome features, intoxicated by your reaction to his action so he did it again and again, hard, stinging slaps as you rode his stiff, quivering cock harder and faster, fuck, Seokjin must be incredibly turned on because he was so fucking hard, just so incredibly sexy how hard he was right now, even the pain was nothing but an injection of added carnal pleasure, throwing your head back and sinking your nails into his skin, fucking him recklessly, forgetting about hiding your moans, who the fuck cared, not you and not him because Seokjin too was crying out, the sinful sound of sex echoing off his bedroom walls, except instead of you in your bedroom putting headphones on to drown him out, you were in his bedroom, doing it, fucking the daylights out of him.

Alright.

You could see why girls wanted to date your best friend now.

Seokjin was a loud dork, but he had a great dick.

“F-Fuck, Seokjin, fuck!”

He had a similar response, although it was more a choked garble of your name mixed with, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You must really be drunk on his dick because even that turned you on and tipped you over the edge.

Your thighs tensed and you moaned deeply, tucking your chin down and spreading your palms onto his pecs, wrists straining against the cotton rope, a rapid torrent of adrenaline soaring through you and then you smacked your ass down onto Seokjin’s crotch, whining as you came in vicious pulses of pleasure, clenching around his jerking length and you realized Seokjin was clutching your ass, pinning it down so you couldn’t move, shooting his release into the condom, so much that you felt his cock shudder and throb inside you, head buried in your deepest, most pleasurable spot, you feeling all of him and him feeling all of you.

Holy shit.

You almost saw stars.

“Hah… wow… I guess I can’t blame younger dudes for wanting this pussy…”

Your eyes weren’t open but your eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Shut up, Seokjin.”

“Come on, man! Look what you did!” Seokjin barked accusingly, pointing to his chest with red indents of your rings.

“Excuse me? I’m the one who has scratches and a bruised ass!”

“You’ve marred my beautiful skin! I should fine you!”

“Where’s that fuckin’ whip – get your naked ass back here, Kim Seokjin!”

Hm, well, maybe you would find your true love some other time. Maybe try gambling?

masterpost

#seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #bts smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you

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alifeasvivid · 2 years ago

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@modernday-jay @woahokay-jay youtuber/camboy au... a few months before Alfred and Allen meet in LA while Alfred is at vidcon, he finds a very interesting site called onlyfans (I have never looked at onlyfans in my life and I hope it shows XD)

warning: explicit content

Alfred reads the superchat out of the corner of his eye while trying to maintain focus on the game he’s currently streaming. “‘Hey loser you suck at gaming you should give up and start a’...--a what?--‘an only fans’” Alfred shakes his head. “Yeah well you just paid five bucks to tell me that so who’s the loser here? What the hell is an onlyfans anyway?”

The chat lights up with a bunch of clown emoji spams and a bunch of other chatters interject with something along the lines of “they’re saying you’re hot.”

Alfred rolls his eyes. “Ugh. Whatever. Kiku, can you ban some of these jokers? I’ve got a game to finish.”

When the stream finishes, Alfred removes his headphones and sighs deeply. He cracks his neck and shakes out his shoulders as he disconnects his laptop from his monitors and takes it over to the bed where he flops onto the mattress.

Some day... soon, with any luck, he’ll have an actual studio and won’t have to stream from his cramped bedroom in his tiny apartment. Almost two thousand people watched that stream. Last month he was under five hundred. His youtube channel is so close to half a million subscribers and if the momentum keeps up, he might really be able to make something of this. He’s got enough sponsors and subscriptions now that he was able to quit his job and do twitch and youtube full-time, but he’s not where he wants to be yet.

But for the moment, he needs to take a breather... and figure out what the fuck onlyfans is. Okay, it’s a site. He uses a junk email address to sign up and--Oh.

Once he comprehends the general point of the site, he’s torn between being flattered that some of his audience thinks he would be better suited to cockteasing them than playing games and being somewhat disconcerted by it.

Of course, what he initially encounters is pretty tame compared to his usual taste in porn and none of it is anywhere close to some of the hentai he’s got stashed away, but the site still intrigues him. Under a “live now” widget, something catches his eye.

Clicking on the small thumbnail only leads to a pre-recorded preview. The... ‘content creator’s’ name is Allen and he’s probably the hottest person Alfred has ever seen aside from maybe movie stars. The preview is about thirty seconds long--just long enough for Allen to caress his pretty bronze skin with his pretty hands and tease the band of his pretty, lacy thong while he fucks the camera with his pretty brown eyes.

Alfred has watched it loop about six times before he moves his arrow to the subscribe button while he internally debates with himself, but that only takes about three more loops before the debate is over and he enters his paypal information.

The set up is similar to Twitch and Alfred can see the chat, but he has the option to hide it if he wants.

He is, however, totally incapable of taking his eyes off Allen regardless. Soft moans and adorable little mewls resound from the laptop speakers and reverberate in Alfred’s skull, echoing because his brain has turned to goo and slipped all the way down his spine into his cock.

Allen is kneeling upright, fully naked while he fucks himself on a dildo which is stuck to the floor. “Oh fuck, fuck that’s good,” Allen purrs as he rocks back and forth, up and down. He lazily, lightly strokes his own cock. “Mmm so big...”

Alfred’s balls tighten and his hand slips down into his shorts. He bites his lip at the same time Allen does and he realizes his cock is almost definitely bigger than that dildo. “Nnnnggh...”

“Hah,” Allen huffs a laugh, but doesn’t stop. “You guys are too sweet,” he coos. The chat has said something, but Alfred couldn’t read it if he tried. Even Allen’s voice is pretty. Everything about him is pretty; his messy hair, his lips, his thighs, his dick.

Alfred fists his own cock, squeezing and stroking himself in time with Allen’s increasing rhythm, barely daring to dream about what it would feel like to replace that dildo with all of his own fat ten inches. He can’t even breathe and his other hand reaches out for the screen as if that would actually get him closer to the beautiful boy losing himself in ecstasy on camera while Alfred and several hundred other people watch.

Alfred manages not to orgasm until after Allen does, so he can watch the whole thing. He groans, partly in pleasure and partly in frustration.

Allen moans, but it’s a more of a teasing little growl and when he catches his breath, he addresses the camera again. “You know you guys are the ones who make that so much fun,” he says with a wink, still slightly breathless. “I’ll see all of you tomorrow same time same place~ And for tier two fans, I’ll see you later tonight. I’ve also added a tier three and those fans will get extra special perks like requests, so if that’s what you’re into, make sure to subscribe. Bye~!”

“Oh man, I sure hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me,” Alfred mutters sarcastically as he hits subscribe button for tier three.

#veggie burgers #wfsn #I had this idea and it kinda made me giggle

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 3 years ago

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Back at it again with my self-indulgent comic posts. This time! It’s Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #3, perhaps the most tonally-distinct entry yet, with shades of The Twilight Zone.

Spoilers!

So, as mentioned, this issue is the most deliberate in terms of both its pacing and its tone, IMO.

What is that tone, you ask?

To quote Alex Danvers, from “Midvale”: Hello, darkness.

THE STORY:

Kara and Ruthye are still looking for Krem Clues in the alien town of Maypole.

(Which is actually just Small Town, USA, complete with vintage 50s aesthetics.)

But the locals are clearly hiding something! So Kara and Ruthye continue to investigate, and they eventually discover what it was that the residents of Maypole were so keen to keep hidden.

Genocide, basically.

As I said, this issue struck me as very Twilight Zone; a genre story involving the build-up to a dark twist, all set against the backdrop of an idyllic small town. (Think, like, “The Monsters are Due on Maple Street” but instead of focusing on the Red Scare, it’s classism and racism.)

The wealthier blue aliens kicked all of the purple aliens out of town, and when space pirates showed up to pillage and plunder, the blue aliens made a deal with them: the lives of the purple aliens in exchange for their safety.

Which is where the episodic story connects to the larger mission; it was Krem who suggested the trade, and then joined up with the Brigands (space pirates) when he was freed by the blue aliens.

The issue ends with no tidy resolution to the terrible things Kara and Ruthye discovered, but they do have a lead on where to find Krem, now, as well as Barbond’s Brigands.

KARA-CTERIZATION:

Ironically, it’s here, in the darkest chapter yet, that we get the closest to what might be considered ‘classic’ Kara.

Which I think comes down to that aforementioned deliberate pace--this issue is a little slower, a little quieter. It gives the characters some room to breathe.

That’s not to say Crusty Kara is gone. Oh no. She is still very much Crusty. XD

But anyways. A list! Of Kara moments I loved!

I mentioned a few of these in a prior post when the preview pages came out: I like the moment where Kara blows down the guy’s house of cards, and I like that the action is echoed later in the issue when she grabs the mayor’s desk and tosses it aside. A nice visual representation of the escalation of Kara being, like. Done with these creeps. (Creeps is an understatement but you get the idea.)

Another one from the preview pages: Kara explains to Ruthye that her super hearing won’t necessarily help her detect a lie, especially if she’s dealing with an alien species she’s not familiar with.

It not only reveals her level of competence and understanding of her super powers, it also shows that, you know. She’s a thinker. She’s smart.

Amazing! Showing, rather than telling us, that Kara is smart! Without mentioning the science guild at all wow hey wow.

(Sorry, pointed criticism of the SG show fandom.)

Anyways.

I dig the PJs!

And Kara catching the bullet! Not only are the poses and character acting great, it’s also a neat bit of panel composition:

We start with Ruthye’s POV, and then move to the wide shot of the room. The panel where Kara actually catches the bullet is down and to the side of the wide shot panel--we move our eyes the way her body/arm would have to move to intercept the bullet. Physicality in static, 2D images!

Also, like. It’s a very tense moment, life-or-death, but. Ruthye’s wide-eyed surprise at the bullet in Kara’s hand? Kind of adorable.

I was pretty much prepared for the page of Kara shielding Ruthye from the gunfire to be the highlight--it was one of the first pages King shared and I was like, ‘yeah, YEAH.’ But, shockingly? The TRUE highlight of the issue?

Where do I BEGIN?!?!

EVERYTHING. About this moment. Is lovely.

From Kara holding Ruthye above the bench to explaining the concept of a piggyback ride, to telling her:

“I’m going to hold my hands here, and these hands can turn coal into diamonds, so they’re not going to let go. I’m going to keep you safe.”

HNNNNNNNNNNNG.

Ruthye’s narration--about how Kara had avoided flying as she was concerned it would freak Ruthye out--just adds a whole additional layer of YES, GOOD, YES, and her line on that splash page is great: “You see, all that time, she was worried about me.”

HNNNNNNNNNNNG. AGAIN.

To say nothing of the STELLAR ARTWORK.

And SPEAKING of that stellar artwork, Evely and Lopes continue to knock it out of the park. Each issue is distinct and beautifully crafted, a true joy to look at.

Before I jump into more of the art, a few final notes of character stuff in general.

Ruthye is the one most affected by the experience in Maypole, as she can’t comprehend how a society of people that look so nice and gentle and peaceful could have been party to such a horrible act.

One of the big criticisms of the book thus far is that Supergirl is not the main character, and I guess I can agree with that observation. Typically, in Western media, the main character is the one who goes through the most change in the story.

And, yeah. That’s Ruthye.

As I was reading the end, where Ruthye sits on the curb and Kara hugs her, I was imagining how the scene would’ve played, had King stuck with the original idea for the series: Kara as the one learning to be tough/experiencing all of this for the first time, and while I think that could certainly work...

I continue to appreciate that King literally flipped the script; that Kara, especially in this issue, is like, ‘I’ve seen this, I know this,’ as opposed to being the one going through a loss of innocence.

*Marge Simpson voice* I just think it’s neat!

Because Kara’s been a teen in DC comics for so long--ever since she was reintroduced to the main DCU continuity, actually--so this is all brand new territory, here. Having an older Kara who’s SEEN SOME STUFF.

(Alsoooooo, since Bendis made the destruction of Krypton not just inaction and climate disaster, but rather, genocide, and the subtext of a Kryptonian diaspora text, the waitress’ derogatory comment regarding the the destruction of Kryton, as well as Kara picking up the bad vibes the entire time, suggests not just a broad commentary on discrimination in all its forms, but specifically allegorical anti-Semitism. The purple aliens being forced out of their homes and into substandard living conditions, then the blue aliens--their neighbors and once-fellow residents--essentially allowing the space pirates to kill them, making them literal scapegoats, Kara discovering the remains of the purple aliens, and Ruthye’s horror at the ‘banality of evil’...yes. A case could be made, I think.)

(Which would probably require a post unto itself and a lot more in-depth discussion, nuance, and cited sources.)

(Should mention that King has brought up that both he and Orlando--the other Supergirl writer he talked to--are Jewish, and for him personally, that shaped his views on Kara’s origin story.)

I guess my point is that this issue is perhaps not as out-of-left-field as some might think, and just because there isn’t as obvious an arc for Kara, doesn’t mean there isn’t some sharp character work at play.

(I could be WAY OFF, of course, and I’m not suggesting it’s a clear 1:1 comparison. I’d actually really love to hear King talk about this issue in particular.)

Anyways.

Here’s the final page, which I think works, because as I mentioned before, there is no easy answer/quick wrap-up to the story of Maypole:

THE ART:

I mean. How many times can I just shout ‘ART! AAAARRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!’ before it gets old?

I dunno, but I guess we’re gonna FIND OUT.

There are some panels in this issue that I just. Like ‘em! From a purely artistic standpoint! Because they’re so good!

Like, I just really love the way Kara is drawn in that top panel. Her troubled, confused expression, the colors of the fading light, the HAIR.

Evely draws the best hair. I know I’ve said this before. I don’t care. I will continue to say it, because it continues to be true.

The issue I find myself running up against when I make these posts is that I really don’t want to post whole pages, as that’s generally frowned upon (re: pirating etc.) but with something like this, you just can’t appreciate it in panel-by-panel snippets.

(Guided View on digital reading platforms is a BANE and a POX I say!)

Anyways.

LOVE the implied movement of the cape settling as Kara speeds in and stops.

And, obviously, Kara flicking the bullet away is just. A+.

And the EYES, man. LOPES’ COLORS ON THE EYES???!?! BEAUTIFUL.

Also, should note the lettering! The more rounded letters for the ‘WOOSH’ of Kara’s speed (and, earlier, the super breath) work nicely, and contrast with the angular, violent BLAMS of the gunshots.

And, I gotta say, the editor is doing a really great job of not cluttering up the artwork with all the caption boxes. Which is no small task.

(I assume the editor is placing them, as editors usually handle word balloon/caption box placement, but I suppose it could be Evely? Sometimes the artist handles it. Either way, whoever’s taking care of all the text, EXCELLENT WORK! BRAVO!)

Okay I think that’s everything.

Ah, nope, wait.

MISC.

Just a funny observation, more than anything else: Superman: Red and Blue dropped this week, and King had a story in there, “The Special” (which was very good, btw.) Both Lois and the waitress swear a lot so I’m beginning to think that this is just how King writes dialogue for any adult character who isn’t Clark. XD

This is absolutely a personal preference but when Kara was like, “And my name IS Supergirl,” I was like nooooo. I know King is trying to simplify all of the conflicting origin stories and lore but I LIKE KARA DANVERS, SIR. XD

It’s almost assuredly a cash-grab/an attempt for DC to get all the money it can out of a book they don’t have much confidence in, but I like the cardstock covers! Very classy, much Strange Adventures.

(OH my gosh, can you imagine that issue 1 cover with spot gloss???? Basically the only way you could possibly improve on it.)

Okay NOW I’m done. For real. XD NEXT TIME: Kara and Ruthye go after Krem and the Brigands!

#supergirl: woman of tomorrow #long post #dc comics #supergirl: woman of tomorrow spoilers #kara zor el #comic thoughts #comic opinions #just occurred to me I should be crediting the creative team in these things #I think thus far I've included every title page?#still #will try to be better about that going forward

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mightbewriting · 4 years ago

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So I came to W&H and B&E in an odd way. I'm a long time Dramione fic reader who like many of us doubled down on in 2020 to find comfort in a bananas year. I kept seeing W&H on everyone's rec list, but for whatever reason kept putting it off. Then I heard about the prequel and decided to wait for that to be finished, read it, then do W&H. But once it was finished, I saw you recommended W&H first so I was like okay I'll do that. I struggle with impulse control but am trying to do better so when I saw the audiobook for W&H I was like perfect, I'll listen rather than read that way I won't gobble it up in a day. Ha well that did not work, I listened to the first 3 chapters (at that time those were the only chapters they had recorded) then instantly ran not walked to A03, reread said chapters, then continued on. At Chapter 4 of W&H, I thought hmm maybe I'll read them simultaneously. I continued that way maybe through Chapter 13 of B&E and Chapter 7ish then fully committed to W&H first. I cannot imagine reading these fics in real time because reading them in full, back to back was the most intense glutenous binge and it's taken over my life in the best way. I have been living in your fictional universe for the past two weeks. I started a list of all the parallels and callbacks and eventually had to call it because they are innumerable. I'm awed. In literal awe. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Your writing - the individual words of your vast vocabulary, the way you string said words together into hilarious, heart breaking, heart stopping, beautiful, and visceral feelings is astounding. It's hard to explain but even good writers (and/or an intriguing plot) sometimes do not create an overall immersive feeling. But the feelings your words evoke are all encompassing and truly universe building. Like it's not just the wording or the plot or the charters but all of it together come to make something even greater than the sum of their parts. Your writing, your universe of W&H, S&S, and B&E live in my mind and heart and in an embarrassing amount of screenshots of passages on my phone and in voice memos to myself as I don't have anyone irl to fan girl with. When I think of your words and the world you built, I'm reminded of a Taylor Swift lyric: "it cut deep to know you, right to the bone". That is how I'd describe your writing's effect on me, but in the best way.

Your brain's capacity to plot, plan, and flawlessly deliver W&H THEN B&E? Idk how you kept all the threads and plot points and moments and timelines in check. My head aches just thinking about how you wrote these stand-alone but also inextricable works of art. Like how does one's brain function in such a level? And it's especially telling in B&E because we knew where we were going but I still gasped, screamed, squealed, giggled, had to put my phone down, clutched it to my heart, fist pumped, stopped half way through just for a minute to breath and take it all in, and overall looked and acted as an utter idiot during each and every chapter because while I knew where we were going I also had no idea! I'm just floored you managed to keep us at the edge of our seats with a prequel? Who does that? You do!

The texts in the final chapter of W&H devastated me, literal chills. I think about that daily. It's exactly what H and we needed. Just like a reminder of what they went through. It reminded me of Chapter 41 of B&E. Like a summary of where they had been and where they are now.

The other thing that rattled in my brain is the motifs of choice and time, life kind of boils down to those two things huh? But choice especially. It's funny because choice is so prominent but at the same time how W&H and B&E give off soulmate vibes even though this is not a soulmate fic (also are the rumors true...?!) because despite time turners, breakups, and lost memories, they always come back together. But more on choice: it's just as Draco says - in a million scenarios he'll always choose her and he feels lucky she chose him just once. But of course with W&H, she does it twice. And she does it in both timelines of B&E, and of course that's the problem when Draco realizes he has not done the same hence heartbreak 1.0. And just god - he wants her to have a choice with the potion, a choice with her memories, and stops the timey wimey madness by realizing he's taking her choice (and in a way H started it by taking away his choice and leaving the first time). And then those parts about how he chose her, she chose him, but they could not chose each other. This motif, these callbacks. I'm flabbergasted. It's just hitting me now that you extend the choice to us as readers - we get to choose whether H get her memories back or not.

Theo in all your Wait and Hope universe, but especially S&S broke me. Blaise asking who is taking care of Theo when he's taking care of everyone else? Theo's literal and figurative demons? Yikes. Those were unpleasant looks in the mirror for me. I'm glad Theo has his Blaise. Where's mine haha? Also just shout to your underrated Blaise. The fact that he might be my favorite of the Slytherians in your stories says a lot since he doesn't say a lot haha. But he packs such a punch in all your works.

Okay, after singing your well deserved praises and fan girling and marveling at your works (god this is so long, I'm so sorry!), at long last my ask. I still cannot get this out of my head: what did Theo mean in Chapter 1 of B&E when he suggests to Draco “I know that. Maybe you could—tell her some of—” some of what? I zeroed in on this as soon as I read it and it's been rattling in my brain ever since.

um. hi? holy shit. i dont know how to process this. i am resisting the impulse to cringe away from the level of praise happening here because i really need to learn how to take a compliment but oh my god? i am not...this is just...wowzers. you are very literally too kind to me. i have melted into a puddle of feelings in my reading chair here.

so, first things first: thank you. these are some of the nicest things i’ve ever heard about my writing and i can guarantee i will come back to this ask when I'm feeling like i suck and need a motivation boost. i can’t deny...it feels really nice to know that at least one person out there caught and appreciated some of the insane attention to detail i forced upon myself lol. so thank you. truly, thank you so much for saying such amazingly kind things that have short circuited my brain!

and im sure my friends at @etl-echo-audiobooks will be over the moon to know that their recording work was such a hit! your trajectory reading these stories is so fun and hilarious and probably the most unique reading experience i’ve heard so far xD

also, please be advised that your analysis on choice in these stories is probably going to live in my head rent free for the rest of my life. i feel seen, you know? you just...picked up what i was putting down and it feels really nice to know that it worked for you!

and ok. your question. that little dash of ambiguity i was planning on leaving open ended. but let it be known i can be plied with compliments. i can’t just *not* give you something in return for such a lovely and kind and thoughtful dose of joy you had absolutely no obligation to give me today.

so, in my mind, after draco’s house arrest ended and before he went abroad for his mastery, he and theo had an extensive (most likely drunken. also blaise was probably there too) night of reflection where they kind of just looked back at their childhoods and the war and the history of blood purity and just sort of went: “what the fuck?” i imagine draco probably confided in theo that when he went abroad, he planned to just try and pretend like none of it mattered, to see if that was really true. and draco probably kept him updated via owl (even though draco did not write enough and theo had feelings about that) so that by the time draco returned and we have theo asking that sort of trailing question, the implication at the end is “what if you told granger some of your realizations about it all?” so...not all that exciting? but there you have it!

in conclusion: thank you! you are too kind! i appreciate your thoughtful commentary SO much! i’m so happy you enjoyed these stories. and i hope the explanation of what theo was going to say wasn’t too underwhelming.

#thegirlwhowatchedeverything #asks #death by kindness #my death #i am dead #oh also yes #they rumors are true #im writing a soulmate story next #i intend to hurt you #you being ALL of you #*evil laughter*

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queenxxxsupreme · 4 years ago

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Longing

A/N: This is my first Captain Syverson fic and omg I love him so much ok. But this fic is trash xD i just wanted to see the scenario somewhere other than in my head ok. I’ve seen a few other writers give him the name Logan and I really think that fits (it reminds of Logan Howlett and Syverson definitely had some wolverine vibes)

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none :) this is completely fluffy with some angst cause I can’t help myself.

Summary: Just when you think Syverson is home to stay, his job beckons him to the Middle East.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to remind yourself that you needed to stop biting your bottom lip. You couldn't help but mess with the hem of your shirt, anxiety and impatience eating at you.

Your boyfriend of six years would be returning home after spending seven months overseas. You had waited for this day since he boarded the plane to leave.

The terminal was moderately busy with people scattered everywhere. Some were hurrying to get to their departing flight while others were chatting off to the side of the room.

A small pool of green and brown U.S. Army uniforms caught your attention. Your heart began to beat even harder in your ribs and you couldn't hide the smile on your lips.

Captain Syverson led the way through the terminal with his team right behind him. They were landing in DC and dispersing from there to go to whatever flights they needed to get home. You and Syverson lived right in DC so you were able to welcome him home.

You’re too caught up watching him that you don't notice the look of unhappiness on his teammates’ faces. Your mind was too busy going a million miles a second, thinking of all of the things you wanted to do now that he was finally home.

The heavy duffle bag in his hand falls to the tiled floor with a thud just in time for him to catch you as you threw yourself into his arms.

His muscular arms were steel bars around you, holding you as close to him as possible.

“Hey, angel.” His voice was quiet but still as deep as you remembered.

You took a moment to squeeze him before pulling back to look into the blue eyes you loved so much. You expected to see all the emotions Syverson never showed, to see the excitement in his gaze when he looked at up. But there was no excitement, no happiness that you two were reunited afteronths apart.

Your grip on him loosened and something began to form in the pit of your stomach–a new ball of tension and worry.

“What, Logan? What’s-What's wrong?” You spoke quietly, afraid your voice would quit working if you spoke too loud. You feared that maybe he'd lost one of his men.

“We got orders to go back.” His whisper wasn't enough to hide that Texan accent.

Your heart fell to your stomach. You pulled your arms from around him, shaking your head.

“There's been an emergency, angel. Only reason we didn't turn around mid flight was ‘cause the plane needed fuel.”

All of the thoughts that had been swarming your mind suddenly slowed down. You couldn't process what he was saying.

“You-You’re going back?” Your voice broke and your bottom lip quiver ed. Tears came to your eyes without hesitation. “Now? But-But you just-you just got here–,”

“I know, angel.” He pulled you into his chest, burying his nose in your hair. The sweet scent of your shampoo was enough to make him second guess leaving. He missed waking up to your scent.

His eyes closed tightly as he reminded himself that this was his job. This was what he had to do.

Your shoulders shook with quiet sobs. You buried your face into his chest, hands fisting his jacket. You hadn't seen him for seven months and now he was leaving already.

Syverson could feel you trembling in his arms and it broke his heart to know that you both would be separated for an unknown length of time.

You suddenly pulled away from him. Your hands pressing against his chest. Breathing was a struggle but every inhale of oxygen burnt your lungs. Your heart was beating so loud, echoing in your ears.

What if he died? What if this was the last time you got to see him? What if he was gone for another seven months or even longer?

“I-I can't do this, Logan.” You told him, your words almost incoherent. “I-I can't. I worry-I worry so much. And I’m so alone and-and the house is so empty without you. I can't-,”

“Yes you can, angel.” His hands took hold of your shoulders. He gazed down at you but you couldn't meet his eyes. “You're a strong woman, angel. I love you.”

“I-I love you, Logan, but it’s just–I-I can't-I can't–,”

He placed two of his worn and rough fingers gently under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. He cut you off with a kiss, savoring your taste and the feeling of your soft, delicate lips against his.

“Marry me, angel.” His words were mumbled against your lips but somehow your panicking brain was able to hear him.

You pulled away, lips parted as you breathed heavily.

“What?” You whispered. Your brows drew together. You couldn't have heard him properly.

“Marry me, Y/N.” He repeated, his large hand cupping your face. The pad of his thumb, calloused from years of use, brushed across the apple of your cheek to swipe away a tear. “Marry me.”

You knew the man before you wasn't romantic. The way he said it, almost like a gentle demand, was totally him. He wouldn't take you to some fancy dinner and then to some pretty location in DC to get down on one knee to propose to you with a nice ring. That kind of romance was for children, for princesses in fairy tales.

Your life was anything but a fairy tale. You saw your beloved boyfriend of six years about as often as one would see a good acquaintance. He was a soldier for the U.S. Army before he met you and he was extremely dedicated to his job, so much so that you didn't think he'd ever want to actually settle down for anything long term. You were surprised when he so casually suggested the two of you move in together after spending a rare Sunday afternoon watching football.

You were so used to your bed being empty and to your house being empty. You were so used to the waiting and the longing for your soldier. Some nights it would make you physically sick thinking about what could happen to him.

You had gotten used to going out with friends and hearing them talk about what they'd done with their partners or being present when they spoke about double or triple dates. Not only would Syverson never agree to going on a double date, but he was very rarely home and when he was for the few months you got to keep him, you’d rather spend those days in bed with him watching TV or watching him change the brakes on your car because you always forget to get them changed.

But you wouldn't change any of it for the world. Logan Syverson was everything you wanted in life and you wouldn’t change his ways for anything.

“Yes.” You nodded your head. A new batch of tears came to your eyes and began to make their way down your cheeks.

“Yes?” An extremely rare timid smile came to his lips, almost like he expected you to say no.

“Yes, Logan. Yes!” You threw your arms around him once more, holding him as close to you as possible.

His hands rubbed your sides and then slipped around you to embrace you.

A voice came over the intercom, calling for his flight to board their plane.

He pulled away from you, taking a second to look into your eyes.

“I love you.” He kissed you once, then twice and three times. “In my closet, look in the box on the top of the shelf. Your ring’s in there.”

“How long have you had it?” You sniffled, smiling at him.

“A while.” He grinned. “Love you, angel.” He gave you one more kiss before he pulled away and picked up his bag.

“I love you, Logan.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, already missing his warm hold.

He gave you a firm nod but he couldn't hide the smile behind his stern features.

You giggled at him and watched him leave, one of his soldiers clapping him on the shoulder.

As they disappeared around the corner, you choked on a sob. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth, moving to sit in a nearby empty seat. Your knees were shaking and your head spun.

Just like that, he was gone. But at least he was still yours.

Taglist for Syverson: @promptandpros @alyxkbrl

#captain syverson #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson oneshot #captain syverson x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fluff #sand castle #sand castle captain syverson #oneshot #fluff

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

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Klaine one-shot “Artistic Differences” (Rated NC17)

Summary: Kurt and Blaine have known each other all their lives. They've loved each other almost as long. But as Blaine uses his love for Kurt as inspiration for his music, Kurt has yet to reciprocate. And since painting is Kurt's entire world, Blaine is worried about what that might mean for the two of them. (2703 words)

Notes: I had been writing this for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'opinion'. I finally finished it. Wee! XD

Read on AO3.

Baby, you're not alone...

'Cause you're here with me...

And nothing's ever gonna bring us down...

'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you...

And you know it's true...

It don't matter what'll come to be...

Our love is all we need to make it through...

Blaine stops singing when he notices an echo haunting his lyrics, lingering on the high notes for longer than written. He listens with eyes closed, smiling at his keyboard.

His boyfriend Kurt, humming behind the melody.

Blaine has been ironing this song out for the past three hours now but Kurt hasn't complained once about the constant stopping and starting.

He never does.

Blaine peeks over his shoulder as he continues to play with the harmonies and watches Kurt, focused on the canvas in front of him, swaying to the rhythm of the music, happily sandwiched between his two passions - art and music.

It's a mild and sunny Saturday - a whole day devoted to cleaning up commissions and tying loose ends on weekly projects before their one day off together. Blaine and Kurt share a studio space - normally unheard of for an artist and a musician, but they make it work. It helps that they've known one another for so long that being alone together is the same as being alone with themselves. That also means they get the inside scoop on what the other is working on long before the public does.

And what they're not working on, which has begun to bother Blaine.

Blaine adores everything his talented boyfriend comes up with. Even regarding his more controversial works, there isn't a thing Kurt has painted that Blaine finds objectionable. Kurt puts his heart and soul into every painting, no matter who it's for, and no matter the subject. A writer from Artforum once wrote: "Kurt Hummel goes beyond the veil to showcase not just the external, but the core of every subject - their drives and motivations. It pairs nicely with the transparency of his own soul, which shines through the gouache and the gesso to leave the viewer with a tangible piece."

And therein lies the root of Blaine's problem.

A glance at one of Kurt's canvasses and the world knows everything it needs to about what he loves.

But one subject in particular has gone wholly unrepresented.

“How come you've never painted a portrait of me?” Blaine asks.

"Hmm... what's that, love?" Kurt mutters, switching out brushes, then moving from a blob of Titanium White to a smear of Winsor Blue.

"How come you've never painted a portrait of me?" Blaine rises off his piano bench and relocates to the wooden folding chair behind Kurt's easel in the hopes of pulling his attention a bit. "You've been an artist for as long as I've known you, and I've known you your entire life. But not once have you ever painted a portrait of me."

“Why do I need to? I have you right here," Kurt says, pretending to bop the tip of Blaine's nose with his brush. "Besides, these aren’t personal." His gaze bounces between the three canvases set on easels in an arc in front of him. "They’re bought and paid for.”

"But what about your private stuff? You've shown me your sketchbooks and your digital art files. Unless you have some hidden folder marked 'secret boyfriend art' that I've yet to come across, there's not a single piece of me in any of your work."

Kurt doesn't steer his gaze away from the apple he's adding highlights to to acknowledge his pouty boyfriend, but the corner of his mouth hitches. "If you say so, dear."

"I know so," Blaine grumps, crossing his arms over his chest and dropping back in the chair so hard he nearly topples it over.

"That's your opinion."

"You're evading."

"Is it really so important to you?"

"Yes! It would be nice to be immortalized by my artist boyfriend!"

Kurt snickers. "Are you that much of a narcissist?"

"Your art is important to you! More than that - it's your life! You paint everything that you love! You've made dozens of paintings of Finn, your father, your mother, your Navigator... "

"My Navigator is my baby. It deserves love. I don't get to drive it much living in the city," Kurt defends. "Besides, those paintings I posted on Instagram landed me a huge contract with Lincoln, and that paid for our month-long tryst to Bali. You're welcome, by the way."

"I'm not saying I'm not grateful... " Blaine pauses, the smile on his face a souvenir from thirty straight days of overindulgence in sex and alcohol. "I think I more than proved that on that private beach? Under the moonlight?"

"Yeah, you did," Kurt growls, silently hoping that will be the end of this discussion.

"But... " Blaine picks up and Kurt's heart sinks.

No luck.

"... nowhere am I present in your work. Not that I've seen. Not even in the abstract. And that makes me think... "

"Think what?" Kurt mutters, his playful attitude fading the longer this conversation drags on.

Blaine sighs, realizing how much like a spoiled toddler he sounds. But he's in too deep to stop now. "That you don't expect me to be around long."

Kurt's snicker turns into a full-blown chortle. "We've been together forever! You staked a claim on me in kindergarten! Are you suddenly going somewhere?"

"Can't you take this seriously?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous!"

Blaine huffs. "Great. So my feelings are ridiculous."

"No, Blaine, your feelings are valid. This argument is ridiculous. Believe it or don't, you don't know everything about me. Or my work. What does it matter what I put on a canvas? I told you that I love you! That I would always love you! I tell you over and over and over! Those are my words! My truth! Listen to my truth!"

"B-but what if you change your mind?" Blaine grimaces when that toddler inside him begins throwing an all-out tantrum.

"Then I change my mind!" Kurt groans, slamming his free hand down on an open tube of Dandelion Green, sending a thick ribbon of paint a good four feet. "I'm allowed to change my mind! And so are you! But I don't see that happening!"

"Then why won't you marry me?"

Kurt pulls a face, probably without thinking about it. "Because I'm not very fond of marriage."

"Why not? Your parents had a great marriage! And your father has a wonderful second marriage!"

"But your parents don't have a very good marriage, do they? Nor your older brother, who's been divorced twice already! " Kurt argues, frustration causing him to forget himself and clean his stained hand on the untucked hem of his shirt instead of a rag. That should be a huge red-flag for Blaine to back down, yet he doesn't. Common sense? Sorry, don't know her. "And the national average isn't that great, either. Doesn't it mean more that I choose to stay with you instead of feeling obligated to?"

Blaine doesn't have an answer for that, even though the answer is obviously yes. Of course, it does. And in high school, that would have been enough to shut Blaine up. But admitting to that feels too much like conceding, and this one time, this is an argument he wants to win. "Did you hear that song I've been working on?" Blaine asks, switching gears so quickly, it puts Kurt on edge.

"Yes," Kurt replies, his voice becoming tight quickly. "It's lovely."

"I wrote it for you."

"Thank you. It sounds wonderful. Another huge hit in the making."

"It's the 15th song I've written in your honor."

"Wow," Kurt says dryly, predicting the direction this is heading. "That many?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's an incredibly kind and loving gesture, one that I didn't know required reciprocation."

"It doesn't require reciprocation. But it would be nice."

Kurt rolls his eyes at Blaine's agenda. Tit for tat. Is that how this is supposed to work? "From what I remember, those songs made you a pretty penny."

"So?"

"So, it's not like you wrote them for me and kept them between us. Most of those songs are chart-toppers."

"But I didn't release them for the money! I wouldn't care if they didn't make me a dime! I put them on the albums because I'm not afraid to let the world know how I feel about you!"

Kurt's brow furrows as he fights through a blooming headache to decode that declaration. Once he gets it, he gasps. "I'm not hiding you away if that's what you're implying! You go with me EVERYWHERE! Every gallery opening, every art show! There have been articles written about our relationship! You're no dirty little secret!"

"I never said I was."

"No?" Kurt chuckles bitterly. "You're sure implying it a great deal!"

"That's not what this is about."

"You're right. It's not. Blaine!" Kurt tosses his brush into a mug of water and starts pacing the floor. "I am a gay artist walking a very fine line."

"I'm a gay artist, too!" Blaine says, offended.

"But you're a musician. And a songwriter. Musicians are supposed to use love as their muse. Writing about your relationship is expected... unless you're Taylor Swift, apparently."

"Yeah. What's up with that?"

Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. The point is that the second I make a piece of art about our relationship in any way, shape, or form, I'm afraid that's all it will be about, no matter what I intend."

"Isn't art supposed to be subject to interpretation?"

"That's just it! If I hint that my art has anything to do with you, that will become the only interpretation. Because too many straight people see the homosexual experience as solely about the right to fuck who we want to fuck and nothing else. I make a portrait about you or dedicated to you, and after that... " Kurt's eyes leave Blaine's face, scanning the room and his canvasses all around for help making his argument. He finds a painting of a forest they hiked through in Bali and stops there "... a tree that I paint will no longer be just a tree. It will become a symbol. In a forest of evergreens, if one needle is slightly browner than the rest because the paint oxidizes weirdly or whatever, then it'll be about you and me on the skids and nothing else. And I don't want that to happen."

Blaine turns in his chair to find the painting Kurt is staring at. On the surface, it's trees, dirt, and sky, but underneath, it's much more than that. That painting of their beloved paradise is perfection - so much so that he can feel the sun on his face, the breeze kissing his cheek, smell the sunscreen on his skin. "I understand what you're saying, but... "

"But?" Kurt grinds out between his teeth. This is the frustrating thing about arguing with Blaine. Even when he says he sees Kurt's point of view, he doesn't seem to really.

And when he's not winning, he gets dismissive.

"... I think you're overthinking things a little."

"And you're not?"

"Another evade," Blaine says, pointing at him in a way reminiscent of his brother's only acting technique.

Kurt grabs the hair at his temple and pulls to keep from flinging the palette in his hand like a frisbee at Blaine's head. "Isn't it more important that you know how I feel about you? You inspire me every day! Your love, your support, your music - they feed my soul! But do I have to plaster it on a wall to make it real?"

"That's kind of an empty question because you don't! There are no paintings of me! Not even in our apartment! And I'm sorry, but I think that's very telling!"

Kurt nods, his lips pulled taut. "You're right, Blaine. Not one. And it is very telling." He drops his palette on his work table and circles the room, grabbing finished canvases and carrying them over. He positions them purposefully, placing some under UV lights he has mounted to runners on the ceiling.

"What... what are you doing?" Blaine asks with worry, wondering if Kurt is about to do something hasty, something that will ruin his paintings, waste all those hours of work, jeopardize the money he has yet to collect for them.

Kurt doesn't answer.

He doesn't even look at him.

He works silently, his shoulders rigid, his footsteps heavy as he collects paintings Blaine forgot about, paintings that had made Blaine bristle because they were of places they had been to together, things they had made a point to see only with each other, but not a one included him. Those Kurt flips upside down.

He swipes a squeeze bottle of clear liquid from his army of supplies. It could be water. It could be paint thinner. Blaine doesn't know, but he's not certain he wants to find out. He's about to leap off his seat to stop him, but Kurt switches off the overhead lights, turns on the UVs, and Blaine stops. He watches in horror as Kurt douses the flipped canvases in fluid, but the paint doesn't run. Whatever is in that bottle, it sticks, but only in certain areas, and before it dries completely, Kurt dusts the paintings with a fine powder, one that brings hidden images to life beneath the lights.

“Oh my God,” Blaine mutters, stepping back to get a better look.

Every painting, in one way or another, is of him. Of them. And not just recently. There are images of them from college, high school... middle school. There are profiles of Blaine in the negative space between flowers of one painting, and in the clouds of another. A fluorescent image of teenaged him playing guitar to a silhouette of Kurt sitting beside him. There are shadows of them dancing, singing, even a daring one of them making love up against a wall.

And the flipped landscapes? Their vacation pictures, as it were? The glowing dust reveals portraits hiding in plain sight, painted upside down and invisible to the naked eye. All of these images, Kurt painted in ways where no one would detect them if they weren't looking for them. If they didn't know they were there.

And they are in every. single. one.

Now that he's seen this, it's safe to assume all of Kurt's works carry similar Easter eggs, even paintings long gone.

"Why... why didn't you tell me about this?" Blaine asks, too stuck on stupid to move, walk from painting to painting and examine them properly.

"Why did I need to? I love you. I've told you. What else did I need to prove?"

Blaine shakes his head slowly, ashamed of himself. What an imbecile he is! Kurt is absolutely right. He loves him! He didn't need to prove it! The hurt Blaine felt - that was on him. It wasn't Kurt's responsibility to fix it. There isn't a day that goes by where Kurt doesn't show his love to Blaine in one way or another. Blaine didn't need this. He really didn't.

And right now, he doesn't feel he deserves it.

On a side note, how wrapped up in his own crap has he been that here, in this space that they share, where proximity has forced Kurt to memorize every song Blaine has been writing for his latest album while he paints, that he never realized just how frickin' talented his boyfriend is!?

"Kurt... " Blaine finally finds the strength to take a step forward, drawn to that ghostly image of them making love. It's a simple shadow of the moment, but it evokes a powerful memory "... these are incredible. How did you... ?" Blaine expects an answer before he can finish. Kurt is rarely shy about discussing his work.

Though Blaine should use this opening to his advantage - apologize since those should have been the first words out of his mouth.

But he gets nothing.

"Kurt?" Blaine looks over his shoulder in search of his boyfriend, ready to make amends.

But Kurt is gone.

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine #blangst

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logically-asexual · 4 years ago

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okay i'm already procrastinating and i don't plan on sleeping any time soon so here we go.

☆ ✩ my personal ranking for every season 1 Sanders Sides episode. ✩ ☆

i think it's going to be pretty similar to @dukeofonions' but let's see if i find something new to contribute haha. i see you didn't include that one about Patton in the Big Game or whatever, so i'm not including it either xd. also i think i'm going to count Accepting Anxiety as one episode only.

edit: i finished and now i dare you to drink a shot of water every time i say the word spanish or a version of the word comfort and become very well hydrated.

#16 I'm in a Disney Show

(i agree with dukeofonions here) i always forget this episode exists. it was ok in terms of being happy for real life Thomas but as a Sanders Sides episode it didn't do anything. the sides were just giving their opinions but it wasn't very funny or interesting. also i'm bitter because it made me look up the episode he was in and i didn't like it at all. i don't know if i'm too old for those Disney shows now but Thomas was literally the only good part of it, everything else was really dull and boring imo. a waste of time.

however, Logan supporting clickbait is one of the funniest things ever, and i'll never forget it.

#15 Becoming A Cartoon

i didn't hate this episode but it was just .. meh.. you know? several factors contribute to this. one, i couldn't feel much nostalgia for Butch Hartman's shows because i watched them in Spanish, and everything feels really weird when they speak English, i don't like how my old cartoons sound in English. two, it was disappointing to me because we were all desperately waiting for Plot™ and instead they give us this short episode about nothing (oh how the tables have turned now it's the other way around haha). and three, i didn't like the style of the animation :/ their faces and expressions freaked me out, Roman's douchey face still haunts me.

#14 Way Too Adult

here i'm biased because i don't like Patton much, and i didn't back when i watched the series the first time either, so this video was a little disappointingwithout the rest. also it wasn't relatable to me because i am still too young and dependent on my parents haha. but Patton is funny and it's funny to laugh at Thomas' struggling.

#13 The Dark Side of Disney

i've never been a fan of Disney movies. i actually never watched Mulan or the Lion King or Aladdin as a kid, so meh. i liked the ending, though, it was cool to see Virgil have fun and be right for once. it does make me a bit uncomfortable because the way Thomas tries too hard with Virgil's mouth movements and his low voice reminds me of a guy that had made me v uncomfortable not long before watching that video. so an icky feel overall.

#12 A New Year of Lying to Myself

this video was actually kind of fogettable to me. i had a hard time connecting the voices in the song to the characters and idk. i don't love it nor hate it, just .. neutral.

#11 My True Identity

pretty much the same opinion as dukeofonions, again. it's a good introduction and it's good that it was the beginning of it all but on its own it's not very special. i think it's awesome on Thomas to have come up with such a clever idea, like choosing the dad, the teacher and the prince and putting them together and match them with thoughts?? that fit so perfectly?? it really is just very impressive when you think about it, that it was just a random idea he had for a short 5 minute video.

#10 Taking on Anxiety

i liked this video a lot because when i watched it i had recently been a lot on tumblr, and found out through relatable posts that i had anxiety. so watching this video was really fun and it made me happy to feel so seen, specially the intro when Thomas just talks about what it's like to have Anxiety and Virgil is so smug about it.

- ★ -

okay now that those are out of the way things are going to get hard... all the following i love with all my heart so i'm going to rank them based on the smallest things.

#9 Growing Up

once more, Patton isn't my favorite. so that's why i'm putting this here, plus the echo at the end askjhsahg, but i love love this video. i remember we were waiting and oh so ready for the angst of nobody taking Patton seriously. and we received!! i love that though Roman and Logan are antagonists here, they're both so happy about Thomas wanting to have a healthy life. and i just adore the way Logan admits his mistake at the end and asks Patton directly. my heart... also aw.. the nostalgia. i remember none of us knew how to spell Patton's name and were writing it in very funny ways until Thomas and Joan told us lol.

#8 The Mind vs The Heart

when i watched this video the first times i didn't like it much, because i only had eyes for Virgil, but later i came back to it and loved it. so taking that into account i'm putting it here. logicality was the first ship i ever shipped in the show because i saw a gifset on tumblr of Patton screaming "what do you know about love?!" and Logan "apparently more than YOU" and the caption said "MARRIED", and i thought hey yeah... anyway. i love them. they're both my dads since that day.

this video is so so so relatable and i love it. Logan and Patton are so much fun arguing and i love how they compromise at the end and work together. im reconsidering.. i might move it higher? no, fine i'll leave it here.

#7 Making Some Changes

this video was absolutely hilarious. i personally couldn't see it as the Sides still once they were acted by Thomas' friends, i enjoyed it more as that bunch being silly and trying to be the sides but failing in so many ways, while sometimes nailing stuff suddenly. i really don't take this one too seriously as an episode. except Joan!Logan and Valerie!Logan, my beloved... i love how Joan acted as Logan and their voice and that they kept their ace ring on.. there's a reason i had them as my icon for so long. and Valerie looks a bit (a lot) like me with the glasses and dressed in dark colors, plus she spoke Spanish and there's .. no words to describe the joy i felt when seeing/hearing that. wait i'm getting emotional...

#6 My Personality Q&A

when i watched this Virgil was my favorite side and i didn't care much about the rest lol. when i heard his answers i related to him SO much it was scary, and also his voice is so soft and it was all very comforting. it was also when i first starting looking at Logan with more attention, because when he brought up Big Hero 6 and Fall Out Boy and said he didn't sing and would recite it like a poem? it only took a couple seconds but my brain said "me" and never went back.

now this video is a little underwhelming to watch for me, most of the appeal for me was in finding out the answers, and also watching it when we didn't know a lot about the sides. now we know more and want to know more so it's not as fun to me as it was first.

i wish so bad they'd do another one, although i know it would be more difficult with a much bigger audience, i think they can manage and i just need it. the chaos.. the energy.. they all being so savage with each other, learning little random facts about them you didn't expect.. i need it.

- ★ -

oh boy top 5 here we go. the next three are practically a tie. i can't choose.

#5 Alone on Valentines Day

i love Valerie, and the idea of this video was perfect and so perfectly excecuted. every side just giving their crazy opinions on how to woo a random stranger, i laughed SO much. first with Logan speaking simlish out of nowhere? at that point i didn't know practically anything about the sims except that it was some video game and the whiplash of Logan going AYO and the rest killed me. then when Roman whipped out that dialogue in Spanish??? my life was completed. i've never felt more happy than i did in that moment gosh. just the hilarity of Roman's drama, the shock of them speaking Spanish suddenly like that, the absolute JOY of seeing a creator i like speak (may i say) perfect Spanish, the other characters' faces after that.. never been happier.

also the conclusion was so cute. Virgil solving the whole problem without wanting to. i loved it.

#4 Am I Original

i think this video speaks for itself. it was fun to watch them all do the ideas Roman had, plus Logan and Virgil nodding at each other, (i love them so much), plus the angst at the end of Roman's perfectionism, plus Roman's just perfect name. this video has it all.

i think Thomas posted it kind of late at night and i watched it at 7am in the classroom as i waited for my classmates to arrive and the class to start. (i usually was like 40 minutes early to school due to mom’s work). i had to contain my laughter and it wasn’t easy.

#3 Losing My Motivation

i started loving this video after a while, when Logan passed Virgil in the position for my favorite side. but once he did this episode was beautiful. it's so funny and i love Logan and Patton's dynamic so much. and the video also so damn relatable in general. i felt so seen with it because they named all the problems i have when procrastinating, down to Patton's vague explanation of his feelings, it's exactly how i feel every time i want to do stuff. and the plot twist! i can hear the dramatic sound effect and see how they all turn to Logan clearly in my head, and it always makes me smile. plus there's so much Logan angst that can be dug up and overanalized. i love to watch it over and over.

#2 Accepting Anxiety

this video was perfect. everything we wanted. we knew it was coming and it delivered perfectly, better than any fanfic done in the waiting time. the week between the parts was agonizing but in a fun way somehow. i remember precisely when i was watching part 2 in my living room. i screamed. and i cried, a lot. i was feeling terrible at that time in my life and Thomas was such a comforting presence and i can't begin to describe how this episode made me feel.

and later it is always fun to rewatch with all their different reactions to being in Virgil's room, the energy of that was on point. Thomas is such a great actor and the characters where just amazingly performed. plus it gave so much to talk adn think about, the idea of the rooms, lots lots of insight into the characters, foreshadowing, so much. it's just perfect i have nothing else to say.

#1 (for purely emotional reasons, ironically) My Negative Thinking

i think Accepting Anxiety is the best episode of the season objectively but my favorite is My Negative Thinking. because i love Virgil and Logan so much and seeing them argue together was and is great. the comfort.. i can't repeat that word enough throughout this post. it's such a soft video while not being overwhelming with Patton and Roman's outbursts. just quiet (mostly) and clear and with perfectly timed humour.

Logan my beloved.. learning spanish... helping me with my own anxiety.. and their debate was so good. and the fact that they were friends i- i can't. Virgil didn't think Logan liked him and Logan told him explicitly that he did and the casual softness of it i cant even. Logan is happy that he tried.. it's just marvelous. Virgil and Logan as best friends will always be my favorite pair, and their dynamic will always be what i strive for in any relationship i might form, with both sides silently comforting each other within their own limits and realistic perspectives. so nice.

- ★ -

so yeah. that's all. thank you if you read all the way up to here. ♡ ♡ ♡

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders

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raevenlywrites · 4 years ago

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The Ties That Bind 12 of ???

Rei and I held hands as we emerged from the dark into--more dark. Zane had promised the rsh wasn’t as dim inside as it seemed, but I missed the sun. And I was grateful for Rei’s hand in mind as we moved through the tight press of netting and vines.

There was an uncanny beauty to it, this joining of intention of happenstance, a closeness that I might have found comforting if I hadn’t felt so stifled already. Rei’s hand seemed too thick and hot in mine, but I stuck close to him anyways, unnerved by the walls of the rsh . They seemed to slither and switch, and it wasn’t until we rounded a corner back into the main room that I realized their movement came from the shifting shadows cast by a dancing flame.

Once a fire was lit in the central room, the entire space transformed. Where net and leaf began became much clearer, because the nets, I could now see, had once been bright, vibrant colors. Time had dulled them, and I could only imagine the brilliant jewels they must have once been, however long ago.

They say our peoples have been at war for over two thousand years.

They also say the falcon empress Cjarsa is older still than that.

It seems petty to doubt such magic when I myself have knit closed minor wounds with only the power of my voice and prayer. But surely, surely, some myths need not to be true. I didn’t want to believe our war was that old. And I didn’t know what to make of an empress that was supposed to remember a time we knew peace, but did next to nothing to help us return to it.

Zane startled me from my thoughts, even as my mind played back the last few seconds and realized I had noticed my guards shift around me and had simply dismissed it. It wasn’t Zane startling me, it was the interruption from my introspection in general.

“It’s eerie, isn’t it?” he asked, gazing at the wall and not me. “There’s a rsh just like this on the edges of the marketplace, with a central room just like this one, but...”

He trailed off, dropping the hand he’d been reaching out to a broken twist of net. It amazed me how it still stood at all, and I said as much.

“This one is more vine than net, I think,” he said carefully. “It takes time and patience to grow up walls like this. And even more to bring them back down.”

I humphed under my breath.

“Everyone keeps talking around me lately, in pretty metaphors--or obvious ones.”

He turned wide eyes to me and I gave him back what I hoped was a single arched brow. It was a difficult expression to master, without screwing up the rest of my face to be comical. Apparently it was effective though, or Zane was being polite at my failure when he smiled with a soft shake of his head.

“That one was for me, actually. If you feel the tearing down walls metaphor is apt for yourself as well, then hopefully it means we’ll be able to find more common ground before the week is out.”

My stomach dropped at the reminder that I was expected to stay here, with him--and Rei--for an entire week. It had seemed like such a good idea at the farmhouse, staring into the triumphant face of Alasdair.

“You said your dancers dance around the sign of the Anhleh,” I said, not caring how obviously I was changing the subject. “Do you think there’s one intact here, or...” I gestured lamely at the walls. Zane gave me another humoring smile.

“This nest is dead, a relic. I’m afraid if you want to see serpiente dance before the Anhleh you’ll have to come back with me to sha’Mehay.”

It was only my blood running cold that kept my cheeks from flushing. The terror at the thought of willingly entering the heart of the serpiente palace cooled any embarrassment at the thought that I might have been asking him to dance, here and now.

You want to do this here, now? Rei’s voice echoed in my head and the blush won out. Zane chuckled.

“Is the thought of merely watching others dance too much for you, pretty Danica? I knew hawks were prudes but--”

“I’m not a prude!” I snapped, and instantly regretted it. Softer voices could be politely ignored in this close space. Quiet shouting could not.

I felt Rei crowd closer behind me and suddenly wanted out of this hole in the ground.

“Rei,” I ground from between my teeth, “you cannot hover over me all week. I meant what I said to Erica, and I’ll say it again to you too. I don’t need a soldier, I need a guard. Go fly a scouting circuit, see how obvious the smoke from that fire is above the trees.”

It was almost certainly the wrong thing to say. But he met my orders with a tight, “Yes, Shardae,” and gave me the space I so desperately needed. Now if only I could order myself up and into the sun.

Zane was studying my face, and didn’t have the manners to try to disguise it when I turned back to him. Or maybe it was a cultural thing. Maybe serpiente just openly stared at everyone. Either way, my emotions were too wrung out for niceties anymore. I’d spent the better part of a week either traveling or trapped in fruitless arguments, and I just needed a break .

“This is the most emotion I’ve ever seen from you,” Zane commented before I could speak. “It’s a shame it’s all tense and jagged like this. I have a feeling you’d have a lovely aura in more pleasant times.”

At that, I could only blink.

“W-wha?”

Zane did that sad smile, headshake thing that was definitely starting to seem like his go to cover up for laughing at me.

“In our scaled form, serpents taste heat. Life. Alive-ness. Like this, I can still taste your heartbeat, smell the sticky sharp closeness of panic on the back of my tongue--“

“That’s disgusting,” I said, nearly sick from the thought of it. How could serpiente stand to be so close to one another if they were so aware of each other’s bodies?

“It’s a metaphor,” he said lightly, colder than he’d been a moment before. “We sense it with a sense that isn’t taste or smell or touch, but it's like trying to describe a song to the deaf. I can hold your hand, tap out the beats, but you still miss the soaring of the melody, the finer notes that make it music and not just sound.”

I nodded, contrite at having offended him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”

He sighed. “It’s quite alright. I can only imagine it will be the first of many.”

Something about that made me unspeakably sad. So sad that it changed my “taste” apparently, because Zane reached out for me, to brush my arm I think. But of course Erica was there, and I finally lost my temper completely.

“Enough!”

I snatched Zane’s hand in mine, earning startled cries from everyone in the room, even Adelina. I raised our joined hands and shook them, like brandishing a weapon.

“Zane and I are going to touch. Zane and I are going to be close, because Zane and I are trying to have private conversations. If one more person comes within a foot of me without my express invitation I am going to send them home. So help me I will sit in his lap if that’s what it takes to get you all to stand down .”

Abruptly, I became aware of the fact that I was holding Zane’s hand, that I had taken it without his permission, and that the whole room was staring at us. I squeezed his hand tighter, not knowing how to get off this metaphorical dias.

Zane squeezed back.

“It’d be almost worth it to call your bluff,” he muttered, but then said to the larger group, “Is there something we can do to help make you all more comfortable? Among my people, we have elaborate rules and traditions for guests, and I do consider you all my guests, even as I consider myself yours. In my house, I would offer you food and drink, and you would know that no harm would come to you unless violence was offered. What is the way of it in the Keep?”

In the Keep, violence was absolutely unheard enough. We had enough of that on the fields, on the training grounds. There was no violence in the Keep because it was our refuge from such things.But that wouldn’t help us here.

“We are held by our word,” Raymond said. I startled, almost having forgotten the quiet raven in the press of so many louder personalities. “Words spoken by or to the Tuuli Thea have power, real power, especially in the halls of our Keep. I do not know how such oaths would hold you, but it is what we would do, if we felt the need.”

Zane nodded. “We have our own words, codes of conduct, contracts.” He turned to me, pulling our hands closer to our chests.

The Ties That Bind Tag list: @thehellinsideyourhead @therecouldbecolorsandlove @adventuresofacreesty @writing-with-melon @rainydaydarling

Raev’s Gen Tag List (should I tag you guys in this? It IS a thing I wrote. I’m gonna say yes unless you guys are like “no of course not we’re sick of hearing about your stupid fic for a twenty year old book XD)

No one has complained yet so yall gonna keep getting tagged :P

List is currently: @lordkingsmith @writinglyra @drbibliophile @mperialscribe @adie-dee @adie-dee @lexiklecksi @writinginslowmotion @raenawrites @apollon-arium @anika-writes

#raev does fic #the ties that bind #hawksong fic #hawksong

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olivereliocorcordium1983 · 4 years ago

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Summary: "I will try it on for Oliver. If Oliver thinks I look like a scarecrow in it, I'm not wearing it." - Elio, (call me by your name) basically what would have happened if Oliver had stayed instead of going to see his translater. XD

(got inspired by a pic on @charmied and my muse hit here is what became of it! Enjoy! ❤️)

Oliver

The sun was particularly hot that day at the villa I was sitting outside with Elio and his family relaxing at the breakfast table, when I had heard Elio say something that caught my attention. More specifically caught me off guard as I was thinking about meeting my translator for the day and going over my book that evening.

“I will try it on for Oliver. If Oliver thinks I look like a scarecrow in it, I'm not wearing it.”

“Wait hold on! What? Why am I being roped into this and show me what?! “

I keep totally silent for a second until Elio catches my attention, and I just give him a look as he says, “Oliver? What do you think?” his eyes are hopeful.

“Why does he care what I think?”

I look at Annella who gives a soft smile and I quickly say, “What time you got?” grabbing Elio’s wrist, turning it in my hand so that I can look at his watch and he gives me another look that wishes for me not to go. Or is that irritation upon my multiple times of leaving? I can’t tell, either way this situation makes me nervous and I don’t trust myself.

“Two thirty.” Annella replies for Elio, before she puts her cigarette to her lips, all knowing smirk on her face.

I watch Elio disappear into the house after that, practically running as fast as he can to get away from the table.

‘I shouldn’t follow him, I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t. I’ve been good, I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of… yet.’

I have been so good up until now, I have kept my distance from him not giving into the thoughts that come to my mind. My feelings about this boy have been kept to myself and the fear of them, make me nervous yet, it is no secret that I want him. But he doesn’t know that.

‘Don’t follow him. Don’t…. Oh what the hell sate the curiosity before it’s too late. Besides, you have plenty of time.’

“Welp later mrs P.” I reply giving her a closed mouth smile.

“Later.” she replies and as I head into the house, jogging lightly I can feel her eyes staring at my back the entire time while I go and search for Elio.

Once inside I look around and search for the professor I look into the kitchen, the study, the hallways, I even poke my head outside again just for good measure, and he isn’t anywhere to be found. The only person I find is Mafalda taking care of the fish Anchise brought from his daily catch, she looks up at me expectantly as if to ask “can I help you?” and I just smile, backing out of the room and then I hear yelling coming from upstairs.

It’s the professor’s voice along with Elio’s petulant whine and I can’t help but head towards the staircase, my shoes giving off soft taps as they hit the floor, I place my hand on the railing and look up debating on whether or not I should go up and see what’s wrong.

“Papa! It will look up like a put up job!”

“No misbehaving tonight! No laughing. When I tell you to play you will play! You’re too old not to accept people for who they are! What’s wrong with them?”

There is a pause and I slowly decide to ascend the stairs slowly, sliding my hand up the railing. The argument doesn’t sound like a full on angry fight like shouting but clearly pro is trying to make a point, I can also hear the sound of things being shuffled around, like hangers being dragged across metal.

“What’s wrong with them? You call them Sonny and Cher! Behind their backs and then you accept gifts from them!”

“That is what mom calls them!” Elio shouts back a soft laugh in his voice and I shake my head slowly, as I stop at the top of the steps that lead into the hallway to the room I am staying in.

“The only person that reflects badly on, is you. Is it because their gay? Or because they’re ridiculous?”

Elio is laughing by this point and all I can think is that if it was me, my father would have smacked me. No conversation at all just full on smacked. But I can’t help the snickers that come from my mouth that I muffle with the back of my hand, as I come closer.

“Now get into this you.” and that was the last of the conversation and I move to the side as the professor comes out of the room, he looks at me and he shakes his head softly. I give him a look of comfort shrugging softly as I watch him move to my left to go back down the stairs, the sound of his shoes echo in my ears.

I walk slowly to the bedroom door and gently knock once, twice, and then I open the door and step into the room, the sight that I see makes my eyes widen and my mouth goes dry.

Elio is standing in front of the mirror with what I assume is the shirt in question on backwards with a fallen, almost frustrated look in his eyes as he finally notices me standing there. A blush comes over his cheeks and he looks away from me, ashamed almost from not being able to figure out how to put it on as I sit down in his chair at his desk.

“That’s quite the… um... look you got on there, Elio. It’s-”

“Stupid. It’s stupid. I knew this was a bad idea, I shouldn’t have never-” He shakes his head, his soft curls bouncing around with the movement, his eyes welling up, his nose turning pink, he grabs the shirt and is about to pull it off when I suddenly reach out and stop him with my words.

“Elio, come here… please.”

‘What are you doing?! You said you wanted to be good! This is NOT being good!’

Silently he walks to me with his head down, slight pout on his red lips and all I can think about at that moment is wanting to kiss him. To taste his lips with mine, and admire the effort he has so strategically put together in order to I don’t know… get my attention. Well, you have it Elio you have my full attention now what? What is it that you want from me?

I look at him then at the “shirt” running my fingers over the straps first, they are softer than they look, that is surprising and I give an experimental tug on them.

“What the fuck even is this? Cuz, this is the weirdest shirt I’ve ever seen!” There is a smile in my voice and Elio shrugs his shoulders at me, the pout isn’t there anymore but is replaced with slight mirth, and I know he is trying his best not to laugh.

“How should I know, it was a gift from one of my parent’s friends and his husband, who are coming over for dinner tonight. I don’t know what the fuck they were thinking sending this to me, I can’t even put whatever this thing is on right.”

Against my better intentions I decide that we should inspect this so called “shirt” a little further and Elio blinks at me, hands down at his sides, he does this awkward sway and the air has turned and changed between us.

“Let’s see if we can’t figure this thing out together.”

“Yes, please,” he replies biting his lip. It comes out in a nervous almost breathless nature and I can tell he wants me to touch him. This is why he wanted me up here after all isn’t it? To show me what he was going to wear or was it just a false pretence for something else.

I gently tug on the straps and pull his slender frame towards me, so that he is close standing between my legs, his stomach fully exposed to me, his chest slightly covered by the top of the shirt oh hell, lets just call it what it looks like alright? It looks like a damn bib? Yes. I will settle for that than calling it a shirt, most shirts that I have seen have backs on them. This thing… doesn’t and the skin that I have longed to touch is staring me in the face right now.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Go shut the door please.” I instruct and I watch Elio do as he is told, shutting the door and locking it. He makes his way back over to me and again I grab the straps hanging down his front and pull him towards me again.

“Okay turn around for me.” He turns slowly so that his back is facing me and I see the whole bib is sequenced into some wild pattern. Without even thinking I reach out and let my hand run it slowly and I see Elio visibly shutter, now whether that is because of me or the temperature of the room I don’t know.

“Well…” he trails off in an annoyed sigh. “Hurry up! They could be here any minute and I don’t want to have my father come back up here and scold me again!”

“Do you want my help or not Elio cuz if not-” he interrupts me then as he turns to face me again, his hand shooting out to touch my left shoulder, his eyes focused on mine, the nervous energy he holds comes out, as he tries to back petal his attitude towards me.

“No! I mean… uh, yes, I do want your help.” He looks away from me staring at something more interesting to his left side, picking out a book possibly to look at other than my face. “I’m sorry, I just don’t see why I have to impress those people who have known me since birth Oliver. It seems I don't know… redundant don’t you think?”

I chuckle leaning forward. I purposefully press my lips into his belly and close my eyes briefly when I hear Elio’s soft gasp, and his long fingers playing with my hair. I know I shouldn’t be doing this but I can’t help myself, his skin is so soft looking and I want to help him relax so why not?

‘There goes my will for being good’

“Whaa… Oliver, What are you doing?!” He laughs when I nuzzle him and he pulls me closer, trying to steady himself as I let my hands roam over his sides, over his ticklish spots and back down.

“Helping you relax.” are the only words that leave my mouth and I smirk of course I am doing what I always do with him teasing, in hopes of lightening his mood. “You worry too much, you know that. They probably aren’t even going to notice your shirt. It doesn’t even look stupid so… take it off and let me put it on you the right way.”

So far all we have done was constantly flirt with each other on occasion. From the day I sat with him in the hallway and massaged his feet, to the playful banter back and forth in the pool. It all has led to this moment right here, and all I can think about is wanting to touch and kiss every inch of his skin. He is all I have dreamed about, the consequences be damned. It is his fault, he ignited the flame first, and now I have no control well, at least not when he is sliding his hand through the collar of my shirt, his fingers brushing over my collar bones.

I slowly stand up to full height and he takes a step back, lifting his arms up over his head, off the bib goes exposing his beautiful pale skin. I smile down at him and he looks up at me with such innocence,that I don’t know what to do with myself.

‘Focus on the task at hand Oliver!’

My mind chides me while my heart is in my throat. I turn the contraption around and slowly slip it over his head and he slips his arms through the holes. Then he slowly turns around so that I can help him with the straps, I pull them, tight but not tight enough to hurt him and tie them off, my knuckles gently and soothingly brushing against his skin.

He turns to face me and without preamble I take his face into my hands, my thumbs sweeping across his pale cheeks, my eyes soften. “It looks lovely on you, Elio.” and then I press my lips to his, closing my eyes, I breath him in briefly as his body slowly melts into mine, my fingers curl around the back of his neck gently.

The kiss isn’t demanding; it's just brief too brief as I pull away at the honk of a horn and Elio’s father calling him from outside.

“See you at midnight. Later!” I say enthusiastically with a wink, leaving him standing there in his room, with his eyes closed and a smile on his kiss swollen lips.

(sorry for any mistakes I typed this out rather quickly)

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nocompromise-noregrets · 3 years ago

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💕 get to know your mutuals!! when you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know. they can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. when you’re done, send this to 10 people you want to get to know better!! 🥺🌼💕

The ever-awesome @theresonlyzuul tagged me - thank you! Hmmmmm. Five things about me. *thinks*

I'm quoted in my absolute hero's biography. Way back in the mid-90s I used to write for a fanzine, and I wrote a review of a show by another band where he guested for the encore; it was the first time I'd ever seen him (he'd barely played in the UK for years) and the friend I was with got me backstage to say hello after the gig, and I nearly died on the spot because I thought I'd never get to see him, much less meet him and say hi. Anyway, I more or less forgot all about it, especially as a few years later he reformed the band he was famous for, toured a lot, I saw them loads, met him and the others several times, etc etc. And then I picked up a copy of the biography when I was in Helsinki and was leafing through it on the plane home when my name leapt out at me (quoted alongside an actual journalist who'd reviewed the show for Kerrang! the proper rock and metal magazine) and I went O.O what the actual fuck??? It turned out that a girl I used to know who was even more obsessed than I was (and was utterly self-obsessed and somewhat toxic as it turned out) had collected a huge number of press cuttings about him and his band, including this fanzine review, and had scanned them all and put them online in the late 90s/early 2000s - and later taken them down again because she'd fallen out with the person hosting the website or something, but someone had already taken a copy and put it back online, which is where the biographer found it. The kicker? I am almost positive I actually own (and have owned for more than 20 years) the hard copies of all these press cuttings because she gave them to me after she got obsessed with another band. They're in a folder in the loft and I've never got round to going up there and digging them out but I'm almost certain they're there. :D

Okay, how do I follow that? Hmmm. I'm studying for a degree in Language Studies with English and German with the Open University (distance learning uni in the UK) with a view to retraining as a translator from German to English. I just got my results for the level 2 German course I did this last year (85% :D ) and am supposed to be spending the summer learning all the grammar I didn't have time for during the course, but there will be no prizes for guessing that I have done very little towards that goal. Oops. Anyway, once I've finished the course I shall have the academic equivalent of Prince Charles' favourite band (the Three Degrees, sorry, that's a joke for Brits of a certain age who remember Charles and Diana's wedding...*echoing silence* XDDDD ) and will then get on with doing the OU's MA in translation studies, which coincidentally is run by my sisterinlaw, although I don't think that'll help me any. XD

I've been working as an archivist for 21.5 years at this point (if my professional career were a kid, it'd have its degree by now, jesus wept O.O ) and I split my time between the local authority archive service in the city where I live, and a real actualfacts castle. The castle in question has been owned by the same family (give or take 50-odd years where it was owned by the Crown, long story) since 1154, and the family can provably trace their descent in the male line back 26 generations to before the Norman conquest, and they're the only family left who can do so. On the one hand, colonialism, although they don't seem to have been too involved in all that with the exception of a few individuals, and on the other, I am responsible for a good three or four thousand medieval documents, including about four illuminated books of hours, three documents that are older than the castle itself, and a whole shedload of post-medieval and modern stuff including the papers of one of the greatest women gardeners (and most prolific renaissance women) the UK has ever had. So...no pressure. :D

I have three tattoos, all of them music-inspired, and am planning more, but whether I'll ever get round to booking in with our tattoo artist is up for debate.

We're in the middle of a heatwave at the moment and I'm soaking it all up like a solar battery to see me through the rest of the year when it's cold and damp and grey and miserable. But six days of continuous 30C+ temperatures is a tiny bit much, even for me.

Thank you! I am going to tag...anyone who wants to take part, my brain is a bit fried this morning :D :D :D

#tag game #about me

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ohkiyo · 5 years ago

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characters: shiratorizawa, reader, and seijoh.

warnings: slight cussing.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: This is one of those ideas that decided to pop up at 2 am. It won’t leave me alone, so here it is. XD

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The shrill sound of the whistle echoed throughout the arena as the game finally ended, the score 2-0 with Shiratorizawa winning the match. You stood up from your seat, cheering alongside the school’s cheer squad at the team’s victory, you held up your hand as they gave you high fives, congratulating them as they move to stand in front of Coach Washijou to listen to whatever he has to say.

It wasn’t anything long, just a simple “Well done” and a nod of his head, it was the closest thing to a praise they could get, but who were they to complain? It’s better than running all the way back to school and do 200 serves after.

“You guys were amazing!” You said, walking behind them as they walk towards the locker room, everyone was in a good mood; the team they were playing against wasn’t much of a challenge like you had expected them to be. The new trick that they were practicing was a success when they decided to try it out a while ago, and no one was arguing with each other during the game as well, not even Shirabu and Semi.

It was a good day and a good day deserves a reward.

Tendou slowed down his walk as he slung an arm around your shoulder “Aren’t we always (Y/n)-chan?”

“Of course!” You nodded beaming at him as he laughs, pinching your cheek as he cooed at you.

“You’re too cute! First years are so cute!”

“Except for Goshiki” the mentioned first year’s head snapped to look at Shirabu, an offended look on his face as the second-year met his eyes, one eyebrow raised in a challenge “What? You think you’re cute?”

“I’ve been called cute by many people, just so you know!”

“Uh-huh”

“You’re just salty because no one calls you cute!”

You took hold of Shirabu’s hand when he raises it to slap every molecule of disrespect from Goshiki’s body, your laugh mixing in with their bickering as Semi’s shout of “Shut up!” went from one ear to another.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“Iwa-chan, have you seen my glasses?” Oikawa asks, rummaging through his bag for said item, pushing aside the other things inside as he opened every pocket in case he had overlooked them.

“Weren’t you wearing contacts earlier?” Matsukawa stood beside him, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

“I had to take them out; they were starting to hurt my eyes” Oikawa let out a sigh, closing his bag when no signs of his glasses were to be found. They were currently standing outside the arena as they too had just finished their own game, waiting for the lower years who went to buy them some food.

“I’ll send Kindaichi a text to check the changing room” Iwaizumi said, fishing his phone from his pocket and shooting a quick text to the first year. They started walking towards a shaded area, the sun’s heat becoming too much for them to handle.

“Kana-chan?!” They followed their captain’s line of sight, expecting to see his cousin. However, he was just staring at the Shiratorizawa volleyball team, who was talking to a girl wearing a jacket and track pants similar to the ones worn by the team members. Her back turned towards them but her hair color was similar to Kana. Unfortunately, Oikawa couldn’t even distinguish those small difference in details because of his poor eyesight and was now already marching towards the group

“Oi!” They run after him just in case he’d do something stupid, which he probably will.

“We can order take out later, it will be my tre-“ You let out a surprised yelp as you felt yourself being pulled back towards strong chest, arms wrapping around your shoulders. You try to struggle out of the stranger’s hold but his grip on you was too tight.

“Kana-chan, what are you doing being friendly with the enemy?!” You frown, who the hell was Kana?

“Are you trying to make her transfer to Shiratorizawa?! Well, guess what, she will never go to your stupid school!” Oikawa stuck out his tongue at them, as your teammates narrowed their eyes at him.

“Her name is (L/n) (Y/n) she is a first-year student at Shiratorizawa Academy and the manager of the boys' volleyball club” Ushijima stated, his face neutral as ever, you nodded your head pointing your finger at your captain.

“Yes, what he said” Sadly, Oikawa was too busy being angry with Ushijima that he didn’t hear you or he did and he just ignored it.

“Your manager?! She will never manage a team like yours, and her name is Oikawa Kana, a 3rd year at Aobajohsai High School!”

Goshiki, who was not liking the way Oikawa was touching you, grab your hands and started pulling you away, the same with Iwaizumi who has had enough of his teammate’s bullshit started prying him off of you. This resulted in more members from both sides joining and the next thing you knew, you were now in the middle of a game of tug of war.

They were pulling at your arms a little too hard that you feel like they might dislocate your shoulder if this continues any longer. Finally, the last bit of Iwaizumi’s patience is now gone and decided to punch Oikawa in the face, the latter letting go of your hands in surprise at the impact. He stumbled back, holding his face as he turns to the vice-captain.

“Iwa-chan what are you doing?! Now they have Kana-chan!”

“That’s not Kana, trashykawa!” a kick landed on Oikawa’s back as he let out a pained cry. Iwaizumi shoved a pair of glasses on his hand, the one he was looking for earlier, and wore it. He looks at the girl, who was massaging her shoulder from where he was holding her a while ago.

“Oh”

“Go apologize you idiot!” Oikawa stood up, rubbing the area where Iwaizumi kicked him and turned to you. However, instead of apologizing like what Iwaizumi told him, he decided to say something else.

“(Y/n)-chan, right? You’re reall-“

He stops, as you held up your hand in front of him “Please don’t say my name so casually. I don’t even know you”

Now that is a surprise, with Oikawa being so popular, even girls from different schools, coming from different cities know him either by name or by face. Interested, Hanamaki steps forward pointing a finger at Oikawa “You really don’t know him?”

The look you gave him was enough to tell him that yes, you don’t know this idiot who just attacked you “His name is Oikawa Tōru, you know, that pretty guy from Seijoh”

Your eyes shifted to look at the brunette, observing his face as he gave you one of his charming smiles “He looks normal to me” You shrug your shoulders “If we’re talking about pretty guys, Akaashi-san from Fukurodani is 10x prettier”

Oikawa’s jaw slackens in disbelief, now, if it was a guy he would’ve just dismissed it as nothing, Iwaizumi insults him every day. But a girl? It’s tragic, he won’t be recovering from that one any time soon.

You turn to walk back to the bus, your body disappearing from their sight as the members surround your form, protecting you from any more similar incidents that might happen in the next minute.

“That was the first time a girl talk like that to you huh?” Matsukawa’s teasing grin only dampens Oikawa’s mood even more as the middle blocker pointed his phone at him, still recording.

“And I heard she’s very nice too, guess she just doesn’t like you” the two troublemakers share a high five, clearly not giving a crap about Oikawa’s shattered pride.

Iwaizumi let out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest “Serves you right, assykawa”

With teary eyes, Oikawa mumbled “All of you are horrible”

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prismarts · 4 years ago

Text

Shadowmancy (Camelot Era)

Plot: A frustrated Douxie seeks to cast a Shadowmancy spell to prove to Merlin that he is more than just errand boy, Illy tries to stop him before he gets hurt...

Notes: Douxie x OC, got an idea for this after remembering Douxie’s line “I never had the gift for Shadowmancy”, I try to make up an advanced Shadowmancy spell, not even sure if it’s cool I’ll try to make it sound cool, small mention of blood, dark magic, some cute fluff after cause I can’t resist, also Merlin briefly but I’m not sure if I wrote him correctly forgive me xD, This happens before the birthday one shot by maybe a month or two...I dunno this just happens before it.

@tales-of-hisirdoux

Frustration.

That was the only feeling that was boiling in young Douxie’s head and gut as he stormed around his chambers, muttering and grumbling various curse words under his breath, fuzzbuckets being prominently muttered.

He had been in the castle for a couple of months now and he’s barely learned anything other than basic magic and spells. He wasn’t even training with his magic most of the time, he was often sent on chores if anything.

It infuriated him to no end.

Archie, seeing this, was trying hard to get his wizard familiar to calm down, he’s never been this angry before. “Douxie, be reasonable, you’re still learning magic...it might just take a while for you to-”

“Right! Because I’ve been learning bloody beginner’s magic!!! For months! Most of those spells, I already know! I’ve been pushing a broom more than I’ve learned new spells, Arch! What kind of apprentice am I!?”

Douxie’s hazel gold eyes looked dark from the grave amount of frustration that he’s been feeling.

“Doux, calm down. I’m sure Merlin has his reasons... Illyria is still learning beginner’s magic too and she’s been here longer than you..”

The apprentice let out a scoff as he glared at Archie, “Illy’s been learning magic from Morgana! She doesn’t have to do half as many chores as I do.”

It was true, Illy was often seen around Morgana and learns magic more from her, the rare occasion that she does do chores, it isn’t as long of a list as Douxie gets... But then a different thought crossed his mind....

Illy learned under Morgana, who was known for her skill in Shadowmancy, the art of dark magic, controlling the shadows. The one kind of magic that Merlin would never let him learn about, let alone look at books on it. But, if he could cast a spell from one of Morgana’s books on Shadow magic...

He can finally prove to his master that he is capable of learning stronger and more complex spells.

Without a second thought, Douxie stormed out of his chambers.

Determined to prove Merlin wrong, he walks in a rather focused still infuriated manner towards Morgana’s chambers. He ignored the sound of his familiar calling out to him and failed to notice the other apprentice that had just notice him storm off.

Illy went over to Archie and helped the familiar on her shoulders, ‘What’s going on with Douxie?....’ she wondered quietly as she and the cat dragon shared a concerned look.

Meanwhile, the annoyed apprentice walked along the castle and looked around to make sure his surroundings were empty, Master Merlin and Morgana were busy individuals but he had to be careful as to not get caught.

Douxie stayed quiet as he hid at a corner near Morgana’s chambers, there were a few castle staff and servants walking around, making him curse under his breath, “Fuzzbuckets..”

He tapped his gauntlet to activate its magic as he swiped through the runes to pick a spell as he thought to himself quickly.

A sky blue glow illuminated in his hand as he whispered the incantation, “Interminus nocti sluumberso”

He blasted the spell towards the servants, putting them to sleep as he grinned and quickly made his way into the empty chambers. Closing the doors behind him as he looked around.

A chill went down his spine as he started digging around for what he needed, this felt wrong....but his misguided determination was pushing him to keep looking.

Douxie soon found it, one of Morgana’s spell books. He grinned in a determined manner as he quickly flipped through the book to the more advanced spells, the need to prove himself to Merlin growing strong and causing his heart to race..

Or was it the fear of trying to use Shadow magic?...

He never got to linger on that thought as he had found the spell he was looking for and was about to cast it when he heard the door open.

“Douxie!”

A hushed yell could be heard as the door closed, the apprentice saw that it was Illy, he felt a bit relieved....

Oh, and Archie....great.

“What are you doing here!?” Illy asked worriedly as she ran up to the taller apprentice, she looked visibly worried about being in Morgana’s chambers without her mentor’s permission.

Then, Archie spoke up as he was jumped off the girl’s shoulder, “Douxie, whatever you have planned is not a good idea. We should leave while we st-”

The taller apprentice completely ignored his familiar as he gently grabbed Illy by her arms, making the poor girl flinch and blush quite a bit.

“Illy! Modrax’s miracles, you’re here! This is perfect!”

“I...i don’t think it is.....w..we need to go Douxie...we aren’t supposed to be in here...”

“Uh uh, yeah, alright, but I need your help.”

“M...my help?..” The girl stuttered quietly.

Douxie had that mischievous grin on his face as he looked at her, the grin that would make Illy’s heart melt at an instant...

If she wasn’t so panicked at the moment.

“I need you to help me cast this spell! You just need to guide me through it and I’ll be able to cast it!”

When the wizard showed Illy the book, it didn’t help with her panic, “D..Douxie, that’s Morgana’s a..and that...that spell is way too advanced for us! I..I can’t help you with it even if I want to!”

That was a lot more true than what Douxie understood, Illy had no abilities in Shadowmancy whatsoever, despite being taken in by Morgana.

She’s tried, really really hard to learn that form of magic to make her mentor and mother figure proud....but she just wasn’t able to, she has no gift for Shadow magic..

But Douxie didn’t know that....

“Of course you can! You’re Morgana’s student! You must have casted lots of Shadowmancy spells before! You just need to help guide me through it....I’m sure I can cast it....”

He looked a little desperate for her help but Illy sees something else in those hazel gold eyes...

Determination..

She admired that about him....

Was he a bit too silly and relaxed at times? Yes..

But he’s always been determined to learn more and grow as a wizard, a person... All he wanted was to prove himself to everyone as a great spellcaster..

“Douxie....I can’t...a..and you don’t need to do this, you’re already an amazing wizard..”

“Illy....you don’t understand! I have to. It’s the only way Master Merlin is ever going to take me seriously! I need to prove it to him! To prove that I’m more than just....an errand boy!”

Illy put her hands on his arms that were still holding onto her sides, “And you are....but this is too dangerous, you could hurt yourself, Douxie.”

Douxie looked at his friend quietly, a shaky breath escaped him. He felt...genuinely, a little hurt. To him, it sounded like Illy doesn’t trust him to get the spell right....

And that only fueled his frustrations more...

The apprentice glared at Illy as he let go of her rather harshly, he almost stopped when he saw the shock and hurt in her turquoise eyes.... but he was too frustrated.

He grabbed the book and backed away, a dark glare in his eyes.

“Of course you would think that way, exactly like Master Merlin! I am capable of casting this spell and I’ll prove it!!!”

Douxie immediately powered his gauntlet, levitating the book as he flipped the pages to the spell. He was fueled with hurt, anger and frustration as he started to read the incantation out loud, ignoring Illy and Archie’s worried protests.

At first, it seemed like the spell was working. He was opening multiple shadow portals around the room as his eyes turned black.....a slight fading glow of his sky blue magic in them... black veins appeared on hi face from his eyes and on his arms.

Illy backed away with Archie worriedly, she had to get Merlin and Morgana but she doesn’t want to leave Douxie alone..

She tried to think fast about what to do but soon panicked as she felt the end of her dress and her legs being sucked into one of the portals. The portals were starting to shake and look unstable as she kept getting sucked into one of them.

The shorter apprentice took it upon herself to throw Archie towards the door and away from the portals to protect the familiar, the Shadow Realm was too dangerous for him. She hung onto dear life, as Archie ran out the door to get help.

The portals kept shaking and getting unstable..

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Douxie felt his mind go blank, a painful ringing started to be heard and echoed in his mind, it got louder and louder as he felt himself lose control. He couldn’t scream, despite the pain.

He started to pant heavily, his breathing getting erratic, quick as the portals around getting even more unstable and more shaky, unstable portals appeared as items flew around the room through said portals.

Illy was able to climb and levitate herself out of the portal but just as she was getting away, a dagger flew out of said portal and slashed her shoulders deeply. Blood dripping out of the cut as it soaked her dress.

She screamed in pain..

Which made Douxie felt even more unstable and lose control....his blank mind started to worry about Illy...

‘D...did he really hurt her.....No..no..he couldn’t have....he’d never hurt her...but...she sounded like she was in so much pain....’

Illy saw Douxie’s eyes flickering from black to his normal...scared hazel gold eyes..

He was losing control as she sees the veins on his arms and face, his body was shaking and pained tears falling down his face.

Then, she saw one of the shaky unstable portals appeared behind the shaking apprentice, ready to suck him into the Shadow Realm...

She ignored the pain and the fear as she ran over to Douxie quickly and tackled him and the book to the ground as she tried her hardest to pull him away from the portals. She had to get him back..

“Douxie! Douxie, you need to snap out of it! Please! You need to clear your mind! P...please....this isn’t you... Y...You’re so much stronger than this Hisirdoux!!”

Illy was sobbing out of fear and worry as she hugged Douxie tightly and shakily..

“Y..you’re amazing Douxie....y..you don’t have to prove that to anyone! A..Archie sees it....I...I see it, Doux....I see you....y..you’re strong and determined....and capable...y..you’re a great wizard...”

Those words...

It hit his heart...something deep inside him.....

Those words....gave Douxie the strength to fully snap out of it, his eyes flickered back to his hazel gold colour....the veins all over him slowly disappeared as did the portals around the room..

Illy let out shaky breaths, relieved that this was over... but Douxie collapsed in her arms, he passed out completely.

And if things couldn’t get worse, Merlin and Morgana burst into the room, Archie flying next to them...

To say that Merlin was upset, was an absolute understatement.

He was furious but there wasn’t much he could do as punishment while Douxie was still passed out.

Well, he did think of something...

But when a certain other apprentice heard of this, she immediately ran into Merlin’s study, where Douxie was resting in and Archie alongside him... as well as Merlin.

Despite getting hurt by his actions, Illy wasn’t backing down from this...she wasn’t going to let Merlin go through with his plan. Archie and Merlin were both a bit surprised when she slammed the door open.

“You can’t send Douxie away, Master!!! Please...he deserves another chance!”

Her voice was shaky, she sounded upset and quite angered as she was breathing heavily from running. Illy’s face both red in anger and from running..

“The boy messed with dark magicks after being specifically told not to!” Merlin started sternly as he looked at the shorter apprentice, she had a temper but never disobeyed quite like this before.... Douxie was rubbing off on her..

Before Illy could intervene, Merlin kept going.

“And worse! He put you and his own familiar in harm’s way! He could have easily put others safety at risk with his mucking about with Shadow magic!”

“It was just a mistake, Master! It was an accident! He wasn’t trying to harm me or Archie, he....he just wanted to prove himself to you...”

Merlin looked at Illy sternly as he walked up to her and was about to continue his ranting on Douxie but, Illy was getting more than emotional and wasn’t about to back down....she wasn’t about to lose him..

“Douxie may be reckless a ..and relaxed...maybe he doesn’t think things through, but he’s determined!!! He’s determined to do better and learn, he...just needs a chance to prove that..... please, Master....i..if he deserves punishment then do as you see fit but...p..please don’t send him away....h..he’s amazing and powerful and capable of so many great things! Please, Master...”

Illy hadn’t realized it but she was crying quite a bit, her breath hitching as Archie had walked over to the short apprentice and jumped onto her shoulders to calm her down.

She...really didn’t want to lose her friend....the apprentice she’s admired....

And Merlin realizes that, his face doesn’t show it but he now realizes why Illy was vouching for the boy.

Apart from her truly believing in his ability to grow, the hope and determined that he would be able to learn from this and become a powerful wizard...

The girl had also fallen in love with his apprentice...

It took a bit of thought, but Merlin soon turned to the girl and gave her head, a small pat. “Very well, Hisirodux will stay....but only because you are insistent on it, I am choosing to trust your judgement.”

Illy was shaking and crying but smiled gratefully as she glanced at Archie, they were both relieved, “Thank you, Master! Thank you so much!”

It had been a week since the incident, Merlin had indeed given Douxie his punishment after giving him an earful about his recklessness which was hard for the apprentice to hear but he took it....it was his fault and he expected it..

What the apprentice wasn’t expecting was his master putting him through the worst imaginable chores available...including milking the Slorr......daily, for around a month.

Still, he didn’t complain. He did all his chores obediently and on time...

He even got to learn a few basic intermediate spells, new spells..

But this confused him..

As he finished milking the Slorr, he groaned a little... the horrid smell was making him gag despite him doing this for a week now.

“Well.....at least it wasn’t worse...”

“It could have been..”, Douxie heard his familiar mutter, it made him turn to the cat. “What do you mean by that, Arch?”

“Oh, nothing..” The familiar seemed a bit nervous now..

“Arch.....what are you talking about?”

Douxie got a bit annoyed as he kept repeating and calling to his familiar for answers, “Arch. Arch. Archie.” He ended up walking close to the cat dragon and held his Slorr juice covered hands close to his face.

Archie gagged and backed up, “Alright!”, He sighed, “Illyria vouched for you to stay.....Merlin could have sent you away if she hadn’t convinced him to trust you again.”

“S...she did that....for me?.....”

His familiar nodded quietly, “She didn’t want me to tell you....she wanted you to stay determined and build back that trust on your own accord...”

The apprentice stayed quiet as he let everything sank in....Illy believed in him....even after he put her in danger and got her injured...

He then suddenly spoke up in a bit of a quiet manner, “Arch...could you help me send the Slorr juice to Master Merlin? I need to do something.”

Archie nodded as he turned into his dragon form and grabbed the Slorr juice that was collected and flew to Merlin’s tower.

Douxie practically ran into the castle after cleaning himself up, he ran through the castle hallways as he felt a lot of things after what he found out. He needed to find Illy...

He kept running and running until he found her chambers near Merlin’s tower, he stopped in front of the door as a wave of fear and anxiety washed over him... He took a shaky breath as he shakily lifted his fist up.

And soon knocked on the door to Illy’s chambers...

Douxie waited for a little while until the door opened to the girl, she looked like she had been studying this whole time as he saw books levitating behind her. Illy smiled at him as her turquoise eyes brighten as she tucked a little of her long brunette hair behind her ear.

“Oh! Douxie, did you need something?...”

The apprentice couldn’t speak... he just stared at the girl quietly as he processed what Archie said only moments earlier... and the words he remembered Illy saying to him while he was under dark magic...

His breath hitched as he didn’t realized he was crying...

“Douxie!? What’s wrong?..”

Illy didn’t get answer, instead he got pulled into a tight bear hug, she felt Douxie’s face quietly burying itself in her soft hair as he took a shaky breath..

The girl froze, feeling her face heat up and turn red....she felt her heart fluttering in her chest as she slowly felt flustered and loved the warmth he gave her from the hug..

But she overcame her flustered feelings and hugged the taller apprentice back quietly....

“T..thank you..”

“F....for what, Douxie?....is everything okay?....”

“F....for believing in me...even after what I put you through....I..I’m really sorry for hurting you....I’m really sorry, Illy..”

Illy hugged him closer and shushed him softly, “You already apologized Douxie...hundreds of times...I’m alright, I’m just....really happy to have my friend back....”

Douxie couldn’t help but smile at her words as he hugged her close....

They stayed there in each other’s embrace, happy to have each other in their lives....

#toa #toa wizards #tales of arcadia #wizards tales of arcadia #douxilly #douxie x oc #toa douxie #toa archie #toa merlin #toa morgana #douxie #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie casperan #tales of arcadia oc

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ohnomybreadsticks · 5 years ago

Text

So @jaskiersvalley and I watched Man from UNCLE over the weekend and had an absolute blast!! Not only was the company fantastic, but the AU ideas were unstoppable XD So I’ve gone and written them some geraskier army AU, as a humble offering <3

Lemme start off by saying I know jack shit about the army so please don’t consider ANY of this factual or accurate, sorry!!

Rating: T, ~1.7K words

---

All in all, Geralt would say he liked his job. He wasn’t a sentimental person, no, but there was a pleasantness to the simplicity of it all. Military life had a structure to it, a rhythm and a flow that wasn’t generally disrupted by questions or distractions. He woke every morning at a designated time, completed his training, and went on missions. As a demolitions expert, his job was generally to make sure that the other soldiers could get from point A to point B, although he had seen his fair share of combat. The teams he worked with were generally efficient, and the leadership left little room for individual thought or questioning. As previously stated - pleasant in its simplicity.

That is, until he met Julian, the newest member of Geralt’s combat unit. Julian, or Jaskier, or Specialist Pankratz, or whatever the fuck ridiculous name he was going by on any particular day. The only thing more ridiculous than his plethora of names was his attitude. Geralt had never met a man who delighted in the army-issued beret as much as this idiot - it was always at some jaunty yet terribly impractical angle threatening to slide off his mop of brown hair. If there weren’t strict dress codes to be adhered to, Geralt was sure Julian would have been wearing the most garish colors possible at every opportunity. It was just a feeling he got when he was forced to watch the other man primp and preen in the common bathrooms. He seemed to compensate for the lack of personal touches to his outfit by using twenty different shampoos and body washes, always clutching some new bottle in the shower.

All of these odd practical habits paled in the face of the Noise though, in Geralt’s humble opinion. Julian just...never shut up. Ever. Geralt wasn’t sure he had ever caught the man in a truly silent moment. When he wasn’t prattling on about anything and everything, he was singing softly to himself, or humming. In briefings Geralt had been sure he would get at least a short respite from the incessant noise (after all, even Julian wouldn’t be stupid enough to interrupt a ranking officer while they were talking). And yet, that was not to be, as Geralt’s sensitive ears picked up a tell-tale drumming beat the entire way through the meeting - Julian tapping his fingers softly on the table in front of him.

Geralt had tried everything to dissuade Julian from continuing his incessant chatter. He had tried the silent hulking brute strategy, just glowering at the slightly smaller man any time he got close. This usually worked without Geralt even trying, as evidenced by his lack of other social interaction in general. But Julian didn’t seem to notice or care. Then Geralt had tried snapping at him whenever his babbling began to interfere with his attempts to concentrate. That was even more of an abysmal failure, as Julian seemed to take any words as an invitation for conversation. Even a simple and clear “Shut the hell up!” didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. And with those two strategies exhausted, Geralt was out of options unfortunately. It wasn’t like he could physically assault the other man, seeing as brawling between officers was frowned upon.

So Geralt simply had to endure Julian and his constant stream of chatter. On the plus side, he did get better at tuning the man out, letting his voice become a constant background noise he could choose to concentrate on or not at any given moment. Like, say, when he was trying to calculate the appropriate amount of C4 to blow a steel door, or what kind of land mine might work best for this combat situation. Those were the moments when he most wished for silence, so that he could hear himself think. It wasn’t like his own life and the life of his teammates were on the line thanks to his decisions, Geralt thought grimly. Well, most of his teammates. Julian was never in the thick of it, always off in some perimeter location, the sound of his voice echoing through their comm system instead of directly into Geralt’s ear. Granted, his commentary during missions was at times helpful (descriptions of the terrain, the number of enemy soldiers, the direction of the wind), but Geralt still yearned for the times before Julian had been introduced into his life.

Or at least, that was what Geralt thought he yearned for.

They were out on a mission to capture an enemy encampment, Geralt’s squad coming in after the first wave to secure entry for the main force to follow. Geralt had his full bag strapped across his back but still easily kept up with his teammates, the five of them weaving from cover to cover as gunshots echoed around them. When they reached the side of the main building Geralt got to work, unloading the explosives and affixing them with practiced fingers. His squad spread out to offer cover, Julian’s voice as always in his ear.

“Wow, the light show sure is incredible today! Can’t wait to see what your handiwork will add to the mix!” Julian chirped, “There’s a force mobilizing in the main courtyard, but our guys have them pinned for now.”

Geralt simply grunted in response, a pair of wire cutters gritted between his teeth as he measured and attached the appropriate connectors to make sure none of his men would get caught in this explosion. They’d have the time they needed to get out of here before it blew. Unfortunately, the question of if he’d have time to properly set the explosives was starting to feel like less of a given. The sound of gunshots was getting louder, and Geralt could pick up individual yells and commands being shouted. The sounds of a scuffle, a grunt and a scream, the pound of boots on rough terrain. Suddenly he realized - he could hear all of this because there was nothing coming from his comm link. The voice on the other end had gone dead silent, and Geralt wasn’t prepared for the gut punch of fear that instilled in him. “Julian?” He said, spitting out the wire cutters as he rushed to try and affix the last connector, “Come in, Julian?!” There was no way he could just be gone, just like that. And yet, Geralt knew that on the battlefield that was absolutely a possibility. The silence was so loud it was making his ears ring, the unexpected fear making his fingers clumsy and his pulse erratic. His head whipped around as an enemy soldier suddenly skidded around the corner - his position was compromised. Geralt’s hand went to his belt, reaching for his gun, but in his mind he knew he wasn’t going to be fast enough, wasn’t going to be able to defend himself. He grit his teeth and tried anyways, pistol sliding out of the holster with practiced ease, raising it as fast as his arms would allow -

And the enemy soldier crumpled to the ground, a single shot ringing out in the air.

Geralt was left aiming at nothing, his finger on the trigger shaking almost imperceptibly. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed!” The familiar voice on the other end of the comm link said, “That was a perfect shot if I have to say so myself! You get back to those explosives, I’ve got you covered.”

Geralt swore again, for good measure, holstering his gun and returning to his work even as his heart tried to beat out of his chest, relief and adrenaline a heady mix. “You went quiet.” He grumbled, the accusatory words hiding the impact that silence had had on his entire worldview. It wasn’t very nice, and it certainly wasn’t what he should have said to the man who had just saved his life, but Julian didn’t seem to mind. Julian never seemed to mind. He just laughed, the sound mixing with the clink of an empty shell casing popping out of a rifle.

“Of course I did. I had to line up my shot, silly. It was an important one.” Julian explained, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. Geralt didn’t reply, punching in the numbers for the detonation timer, but it was okay. This time, when Geralt fell silent, the voice on the other end of the line filled the void for him. It was the strangest feeling in the world, to realize that at some point, instead of grating at his nerves, Julian’s chatter had become comforting. It was a given in Geralt’s life that he could rely on, a sign of one person who had seen through the bravado and bluster and decided to stay.

The thought echoing through Geralt’s head for the rest of the battle - through the detonation of the wall, through the troops pouring in, through the smoke clouding the air as medics picked through the survivors - was What do I do now? He felt as if he were on the edge of some great revelation, some action he needed to take to still the strange beating of his heart. But the answer eluded him, even as he finally holstered his weapons and pulled back the strands of hair that had escaped their confines during the battle. It wasn’t until he spotted Julian picking his way across the courtyard towards him, ridiculously large rifle slung across his back, that Geralt finally knew what he needed to do.

Julian’s mouth tasted of soot and sweat and life, and he made a delightful squeak as Geralt swooped down to kiss him. His exclamation of “Fucking finally!” was also swallowed up by Geralt’s greedy lips, intent on drinking up every single noise this ridiculously wonderful man would give him. When they parted, panting for air, he looked down to find Julian grinning up at him, and found to his surprise that he was grinning right back. He had made the right choice, after all.

“Don’t go quiet like that again.” Geralt rumbled, hoping Julian could hear the words he really wanted to say - Don’t leave me.

And when Julian replied with a chuckle, “Only if I have to save your life again” Geralt heard his reply loud and clear - You won’t be able to get rid of me even if you tried.

#Witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt #jaskier #bready's fic

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fallenrepublick · 5 years ago

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Uh hi XD this is my first time asking for an x reader but uh here it goes. Soooo I'm wondering if you can write a Savage Opress x reader where our reader tags along with him throughout all his travels and is in love with him and patches him up after all the fights but after he finds Maul she feels left out and decides to be a dink and get herself captured by pirates and Savage because a fluffy protector even with his more animal instincts and goes and saves her and adorable fluff? Pretty please

Wow, thank you for giving me the great honor of being your first request! I’m very not good at fluff, but I did my best just for you! Enjoy!

You weren’t particularly vocal about your feelings. Not that it had ever really mattered one way or another, since the man you had been traveling with for years now seemed to favor action over spoken word. Savage Opress was a “brute force” sort of man, having been given unmatched physical ability thanks to the witchcraft of Mother Talzin on Dathomir. Even still, he often returned to his ship limping or holding his side after an encounter with a particularly skilled combatant, leading you to force him to sit and allowing you to bandage him with gentle hands, a practice you had developed during your travels.

He was seen as a monster everywhere he went, height pushing past the seven-foot mark, and a generally annoyed scowl plastered on his face constantly. Yet, when you looked at him, the first things that came to mind were not “monster” or “terrorist.” Instead, you saw a side that not many had the pleasure or privilege to experience. He often came to you with his worries and fears, even going so far as to hold you close when his past came back to haunt him.

“They called me monster,” he said to you once when you were taking care of a particularly nasty bruise that spanned the length of his ribcage. “Is that what I have become?”

You looked up at him, his face scrunched up, contemplating the words. “I’ve never thought of you that way,” you said, putting down the bandage for a moment and holding on to his wrist. “They don’t know you. I do.”

His face became more contorted. “And what do you know? All I am is violence and hatred. There is nothing else.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here.” You smiled at him, but held to your firm tone. “You’ve shown me nothing but kindness the whole time I’ve been here. I don’t see a monster when I look at you. I see… someone who was hurt. A powerful, determined, sun-kissed Zabrak that will do all that he must for who he cares about.”

You smiled when a low chuckle sounded from his chest. “Sun-kissed?”

“Your skin,” you said, prodding an area of his arm not covered by tattoos or bandages. “It reminds me of sunlight.”

But those moments seemed to be gone now. Of course, you knew Savage had been given his strength for a purpose, initially to be an undercover apprentice to Dooku, and eventually to find his brother, Maul, who had been assumed dead for an upwards of twelve years. But once he was found, you weren’t sure what would happen. At first, you had thought things would go back to normal, albeit with a new member of the party helping to plot for revenge and a takeover of various people who would prove useful to the Sith lords. Instead, Savage had been pulled away from you, trading quiet moments of intimate conversation for being caught up in his extremist brother’s delusions of grandeur.

The most interaction you’d had with Savage for the past few months was periodic glances and small smiles passed between you two as Maul mapped out every movement he was forcing Savage to carry out. Even in times when you believed you could catch him alone, you’d find that his brother was already there, training him or discussing alternatives to existing plans. When you walked in, Savage saw you and softened his glance, but Maul only hardened, his eyes piercing into yours.

“Yes?” he would ask coldly, as if you were intruding on anything actually important. Savage would look down, the normally dominant creature becoming a mere tool for his new master to use at his disposal. Nevermind that he was the older sibling.

Your world was rocked to its core. This intruder into your life had taken from you the one thing that made all of this traveling and uprooting worthwhile.

Eventually, Maul had dragged you two to the surface of Florrum, gathering what pirate followers he could to take over the rest of the Weequay gang. The moment your ship landed on the planet, the siege began.

“Stay here,” Savage said to you before disembarking. “I’ll be back for you.”

He left before you could say a word. You scowled and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Like hell I will. You’re not going to appreciate me? Fine. See what happens.” You waited a few moments before exiting the ship yourself, sneaking around the side to ensure that Savage didn’t see you, dust kicking up from the bare ground around your boots.

Blaster shots in the distance covered your hiding spots and burying any noise you made into obscurity. But of course, not long into your little adventure, a band of Weequay blocked your path, blasters raised up to your face. Your arms raised for insurance that they wouldn’t assume you were armed and shoot you before you had time to carry out your pseudo-revenge.

“Well well well,” one of the pirates grinned, spikes from his face moving up and down with his jaw. “What do we have here? A little loth cat poking her nose around in our business?”

Yet another Weequay came closer to you and poked your arm with the blaster. “Quite a lovely one aren’tcha? Might there be a person who’d pay a pretty price for your pretty head?”

You released a short sigh and looked at the sky. Seriously? But, you complied with their presses, certain that you’d get out one way or another. Not that you wanted to, exactly.

“There might be,” you shrugged, knowing they’d take the bait. And with such an affirmation, the pirates pulled at both of your arms, leading you back to their base.

The room you found yourself in was musty, a trace of mildew lingering in the air. It was fairly empty, a chair in the middle for you to be tied up in, but otherwise sound reverberated off the blank metal walls fiercely. It was perfect. The only thing you didn’t particularly like was the gag tied around your mouth, which also smelled like mildew.

The blaster sounds stopped. Cheering followed the silence, and the door opened. Hondo.

“How nice to see you, little bird!” he called out cheerily, spreading his arms as if inviting in a group hug. He snapped his fingers and the gag around your mouth was pulled down. “Now that the Jedi and those horned gentlemen are gone, we may proceed with introductions. I am Hondo Ohnaka, leader of this merry band of pirates! And you are?”

“They’re gone? All of them?” You were more incredulous than you thought you would be. You couldn’t believe Savage would just abandon you, not realizing you were gone.

“Er, yes,” Hondo hesitated. “They left a few moments ago. Why would it matter?”

You opened your mouth, about to insist that it didn’t, before sharp cries of pain echoed from the hallway. You could hear a deep voice crying out, “Where is she?!” in the distance.

Hondo whipped around towards the sounds. “And that would be my cue,” he said, backing away from the room and running through the doors.

Savage stomped in, one of the pirates necks held in his powerful grasp. His eyes widened at the state you were in.

“You!” He threw the pirate to the side and rushed to your side, working at the straps holding down your arms. “What did you think you were doing?! I told you to stay with the ship!”

Once you were released, you stood up, walking away from where he knelt. “Oh yeah? Were you there to make sure I did? Are you ever here to make sure of anything?”

He stood and tried to follow you. “What do you mean? I’ve been ensuring your safety for so long. No harm has come to you until now.”

“But that’s just the issue!” You turned to face him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It’s not about my safety, Savage! It never has been. In fact, I feel less safe now! All you do is follow your brother’s orders, carrying out his crazy plans that could get you killed! I don’t ever see you! The only conversation we’ve had until just now has been, ‘Brother this’ and ‘Brother that.’ ‘My Master this’ and ‘My Master that.’ It’s all you seem to care about! But what about me, Savage? What about-”

You couldn’t finish before he came to you and pulled you into his arms, his strength holding you close, yet being gentle enough not to hurt you. He smelled faintly of metal, but with a touch of honey. He was so… warm. Your hands were scrunched up in front of you and you rested your head on his chest, feeling the beating of his hearts.

“My only desire”,” he began, slightly tightening his hold on you. “Was that you would be safe. I follow my brother’s orders, because I fear the worst for you. I promise I did not know-”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, cutting off his words of reassurance. “Savage…” you whispered, hoping no one else was around to hear you. “I love you.”

Clearly taken aback, he released you with widened eyes and mouth agape. “You… you love me?”

You smiled at him and nodded, waiting for his reaction. This wasn’t exactly how you had planned to let him know, but it was something. And thankfully enough, this was one of the few moments where you were finally alone.

He was suddenly beaming, his hands grasping your shoulders, almost covering your biceps. “I’d never imagined!” He was almost yelling now, the excitement taking full hold, and his voice made the whole room shake. “I only thought I was going mad! But it’s true! It’s amazing... because I love you as well!”

Your smile grew wider and he took you in his arms once again, almost lifting you off the floor this time. “We must go back to the ship,” he said to you, still pressing you against his chest. “I’m sure you don’t want to be here a moment longer!”

Before you had any time to respond, he knelt down and bent you over his shoulder, holding on to your legs as he walked back to the ship, a little more of a bounce in his step than usual.

#savage opress x reader #savage x reader #star wars x reader #star wars x you #i tried guys

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greensaplinggrace · 4 years ago

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ok another clack fic cuz cloud whump is the best and there’s never enough, so “please don’t cry” and “don’t ever do that again” from prompt list where cloud is still emotionally inept but zack is always there to help him feel and comfort him🥰🥰

Soooo...this took a very dramatic turn and I’m sorry! I actually have another version of this fic more along the lines of what you asked for in the works, so if you want me to tag you when I post it I can totally do that XD. I’m sorry it took me so long to complete this prompt! Life has been a bitch and I didn’t want to force it, you know?

“Please don’t cry” / “Don’t ever do that again.” (From This Here Prompt List)

*TW for violence and minor emetophobia

-If you want to send in a prompt, the guidelines are HERE and HERE!

---

Dusk has settled well over the city when the register rings shut for the final time that night. Sealing away the money he’d just counted should not be as satisfying as it is, but Cloud’s more than eager to end his shift. Eight hours is a misery but ten is exhausting, and every muscle in his body aches with the need for plush sheets and the warmth of his heating pad.

Today is Zack’s day off, which means he’s going to want to take the scenic route as he walks Cloud home, but there’s no way in hell Cloud is walking three miles today. He wants his binder off and his packing out. He doesn’t know why he’d thought packing on a busy Saturday was a good idea, but he’s starting to regret it.

Kicking the cup-holders into place, Cloud checks over the fridge and the oven before finally flicking off the last of the lights. There are some dishes still in the sink, but it’s only a couple of plates and a mug. Not enough to bother with, and hopefully not enough to piss Barret off come morning, though Cloud can never be too sure when it comes to the man.

Sometimes, he feels like Barret is warming up to him. Other times it’s like the man has an “I hate Cloud Strife” tattoo painted across his face. Cloud’s long since stopped trying to impress the guy in favor of actually being himself, and the recent response has been a whole bag of mixed signals. The only consolation is that he seems to hate Zack more. Which is why Zack has been permanently banned from visiting Cloud on morning shifts and instead been delegated to walking him home after closing. An entirely useless endeavor, considering Cloud can take care of himself, but Zack mostly does it to keep him company than out of some strange sense of duty, so he lets it slide.

A loud pounding on the door signals Zack’s arrival, and Cloud only makes another cursory sweep over the kiosk before hanging up his apron and grabbing his things from the back. As soon as he heads for the front door he sees Zack, face pressed to the glass and waving wildly, an eager smile splitting his face in two.

Warmth wells in Cloud's chest at the sight, along with a faint of tinge of exasperation at the other man's antics. He sighs and rolls his eyes enough for Zack to see it through the smudged windows, pushing the door open so hard it has him bouncing off the glass.

“Ow! Hey!” Zack huffs, rubbing at his nose with a pout, and Cloud casts him an unimpressed look.

“Tifa’s going to have your head for messing up her window.” The door shuts behind him with a bang, rattling against a gust of heavy wind, and Cloud burrows into his scarf with a shiver. He fumbles for the key with gloved fingers and uses his other hand to pull the scarf tighter, scowling into the soft fabric when Zack only grins.

“Don’t worry! She won’t ever know it was me.”

“Yes, she will.”

“Wh- how?! Nobody saw me.”

Cloud raises a brow at him before turning to the door, fighting with the lock for a good three seconds before it budges and clicks into place, and when he turns back around it’s to see an expression and complete and utter betrayal on Zack's face.

“You would tell her? About me, your own boyfriend? What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Tifa is my bro.”

“What, so does that mean I’m your hoe?”

Cloud’s lips twitch into a smile, and he hides his blush in the folds of his scarf as he grabs Zack’s hand and powers down the sidewalk. “Let’s go.”

“Yeesh! Calm the death grip, piña colada.”

“Absolutely not, Zack.”

“It’s a cute pet name.”

“It’s not a pet name at all.”

“Well, you’ve vetoed literally every real one in existence. I have to get creative.”

“There’s not a creative bone in your body, soldier.”

Zack tuts, tone suddenly serious in a way that has Cloud feeling guilty for snapping, and slows his walk drastically. He tugs at Cloud’s hand as he does so, and Cloud’s forced to either drop behind or risk losing him. Reluctantly, Cloud falls back. When he reaches Zack’s side, the other man is quick to give him a sideways look of concern. “You’re in a mood. Bad day at work?”

“It’s not a mood,” Cloud hisses, because the tension just won’t leave, heart pounding and ears ringing. Zack’s hand tightens around his for a while, thumb pressing into his palm until he’s gentling.

“I know,” Zack eventually says, “those were the wrong words. I’m sorry.”

Cloud glances away. “‘S fine.”

“Did something happen at work?”

“Just-” Cloud exhales loudly, pulling Zack closer as they turn a corner, “-long day. And a Saturday, so…”

“Your chest hurt?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, then how about we talk about the awesome day I had at my work!” Cloud hums his assent, leaning into Zack all the way as he relaxes into the sound of Zack’s voice. “A vet came in for Collie today, and they were the perfect match. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dog and a woman fall in love faster in my life. I mean, I’ll be sad to see her go, but she’s still got regular checkups for a bit, so I can spend some time with her for a little while longer. Not to mention Cissnei is an amazing person. I mean, she’s rough around the edges - sure - but who isn’t?”

“I have no idea who that is.”

“Oh! She’s the vet. Just came back from a real bad tour and she needed a trainer with good ethics - that’s me - so she dropped by and almost instantly bonded with Collie. It was so heartwarming. Wait, I’ve got a picture here…She wouldn’t let me take a video but...”

Zack trails off as he searches for his phone, and as much as Cloud loves hearing about Zack’s passions, he takes a relieved breath of fresh air at the break.

It’s quiet out. Cold and biting beneath a clear sky, and Cloud peers up to blink at the lack of stars and natural lighting. A thick glow isolates the moon above him, created by the ever present lights and sounds of the city, and he feels a longing pang for home. He tugs at Zack’s hand and leans even further into him, pressing his face against the warmth of Zack’s coat, and listens to the rising curses with a contented curl of amusement.

Maybe he won’t go straight to bed, after all.

Steps echoing down the abandoned inner roads, they turn another corner and start towards their apartments. He glances up at the other man through his lashes, reluctant to part completely and abandon Zack’s heat. Snuggling would be nice, he decides. Cradled in his boyfriend’s arms as they warm up beneath the covers. Maybe he could even convince Zack to give him a massage.

Cloud hums, opening his mouth to ask if Zack would like to stay the night, but before he can so much as get a word out a bruising grip wraps around his wrist. All thoughts of home are wiped clean from his mind as he’s ripped from Zack’s arm with a startled yelp. He twists and drives his head viciously backwards into his attacker’s nose, only managing to feel a brief sense of satisfaction at the ensuing snap and scream before hard metal collides with his head in an excruciating explosion of pain. He gasps and chokes out a cry, legs buckling as his mind splinters in agony.

“Cloud!” Zack’s voice rings painfully in his ears as his hand is wrenched to the other side of his chest, an arm encircling him and pulling him back into another body.

He flinches at the feeling of a cool metal circle coming to rest against the side of his head, whimpering as he’s shaken violently, head flaring enough to make his stomach lurch. “Zack.” His voice cracks on the word as he blinks stars from his eyes, Zack’s wide blue eyes coming into view before the pure, unadulterated horror of his expression does. Cloud’s stomach lurches again and he heaves, struggling weakly against his captor’s grip.

“Hey!” The gun digs painfully into his skin as the man shakes him again. “Quit your damn struggling before I decide you ain’t worth my time.”

“No! No- don’t-” Zack sounds on the edge of panic, and something somewhere in Cloud’s hazy mind tells him he should comfort the man, but no words can find his lips. “Don’t hurt him, please. What do you want? I’ll give- I’ll give you anything, just-”

“No…”

“I said shut the hell up! You think I’m joking?”

“He’s- he’s out of it, man. Come on. Just tell me what you want. Don’t- don’t shoot him, please. Is it money? I’ve- I don’t have a lot, but- but it’s all yours. All of it.”

Cloud whines out a protest, awareness trickling back slowly. Zack is strapped for cash right now. He wouldn’t survive dumping all of his money.

“Tell your bitch to shut the fuck up!”

“Hey, calm down man, okay? Here- here’s all of it just...” There’s a thump on the ground in front of them, and what ensues in the most excruciating and awkward bend in the history of Cloud’s life as the guy reaches for it, never once taking the gun from his head. Then there's a scoff, and Cloud knows - knows - what he’s going to say before the words even fall from his lips.

“You think this is enough? The hell do you take me for? Give me all of it!”

“That’s all I-”

“Does your boy have anything on him?” The man’s shaking now, voice wavering on the edge of hysteria, and the tremor of his gun has Cloud swallowing tears of fear. “‘Cause if he’s hiding nothin’-!”

“No, he’s fucking broke, just-”

“I saw you walkin’ along all comfortable! Give me your fucking phone and...and that necklace.”

Cloud’s stomach drops with the words, panic rising high and heedy in the back of his throat. The necklace - Angeal’s necklace. No way. No fucking way.

“Um...the- the necklace, right.” It’s weak and strained, Zack biting his lip to hold back tears, and something in Cloud’s heart breaks.

“Don’t. Zack, don’t-” his words are cut off in a cry of pain as the gun comes back down on his head again, and there’s piercing, splitting noise like gunfire that has Cloud jumping, bucking against his captor in pure terror as Zack yells.

“Holy shit. What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I told him to stay fucking quiet! The next one goes through his head.” The grip tightens around Cloud until he can hardly move anymore, gasping for breath as the tears shake from his eyes. “Now give me the damn necklace. Now!”

“Okay..okay, I’m giving you the necklace.” Zack’s sounding really agitated now. In a different, very dangerous way that says he’s about to do something stupid, and the thump of Cloud's heart against his ribs is more deafening than the gunshot ever could be.

Zack is going to endanger himself. Zack is going to do something. Cloud’s mouth feels gummy but he can’t move and he can’t speak and his head feels like it’s on fire. Through the blur of his tears he sees Zack shift, hand coming up to his neck, and he feels his captor freeze against him.

“What are those?”

“They’re my tags, man. They’re...completely worthless.”

“You were in the army?”

“Special forces.” The hard edge to his tone is enough to chill even Cloud, who’s known Zack for years and who’s seen him smile like the very heart of the universe itself. For his captor, it seems to have an even worse effect. One of high, panicked breaths and the uneasy waiver of his gun.

Cloud sees Zack’s face harden before he charges. Sees him tense and move in the split second the gun is away from his head and it’s like the world comes crashing down around him. “Zack! Don’t-”

His voice breaks as he’s pushed aside, the breath forced from his lungs when he collides with the ground, head searing. A gunshot cracks through the air and there’s a shout, fists against flesh and another shot, this time with a scream, and Cloud tries desperately to push himself up and see what’s happening but the world spins sickeningly and he vomits onto the dirty concrete with a gut wrenching sob.

Then there’s silence. A loud thud that makes Cloud’s veins run cold and his stomach quiver again.

“Cloud.” A hand pushes through his hair, soft and gentle and Zack, and Cloud lets out a sob of relief. He collapses into Zack’s hold, shaking against his knees and encased in his arms, and claws desperately at the fabric of his pants. Burrowing his head into Zack’s thigh, Cloud sucks in a deep breath and exhales with the force of every line of tension wringing his energy dry.

“Zack,” he breathes, “Zack, you’re alive.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m so sorry, Cloud. I should never have let you get hurt like that, I- I- Hey…hey, please don’t cry.”

Cloud shakes his head and chokes out another sob, because God - God - he’d almost lost him. Almost lost Zack. And the tears won’t stop spilling from his eyes even as Zack runs a hand through his hair, up and down his back soothingly. Even as Zack curls around him like he’d never let Cloud go.

“You almost died- you almost-” and then there’s anger, stark and hot as he raises his wet face to glare at his stupid fucking boyfriend, “-don’t ever do that again.”

Zack smiles weakly, wiping at his own eyes with his shoulder, and the glint of his tags - the glint of Angeal’s necklace - makes Cloud’s shoulders seize again as a fresh wave of tears comes. He clenches his eyes to fight it and ducks his head down again, Zack’s words vibrating against his cheek as he speaks.

“I could say the same about you. Fuck, Cloud, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

“I doubt it.”

“No, it’s true. It’s- It’s really, really true.”

Cloud lets that sink in for a second. “Oh.”

Zack cracks out a laugh, forced and loose and relieved all at once, and exhales as his shoulders droop with exhaustion. “Yeah, oh. Never again, Cloud.”

Cloud sighs and closes his eyes, letting the world take him.

“What about damsel in distress?”

Cloud opens his eyes again with the single minded purpose of burning a hole into Zack’s waist. “What do you think?”

“Eh…” Zack smiles nervously and scratches the back of his head. “Too feminine?”

“Too ridiculous.”

“I did just save your life.”

Cloud scoffs and doesn’t say anything for a while. Then, “you’re giving me a massage when we get back home.”

“Sweet Apple Pie, I’ll give you a thousand massages once we get back home. But we aren’t getting home until you’ve been to a hospital.”

“Ugh.” Cloud pulls a face, though for the pet name or the idea of a hospital, he doesn’t know.

Zack takes his response with the usual amount of grace. “You’re going to the hospital if I have to haul your ass there by the seat of your pants,” he huffs, “and I’ll call Tifa to make sure you don’t struggle.”

“We should probably call Tifa anyway.”

Zack sighs lengthily, petting a hand through Cloud’s hair as he tilts his head back to look at the sky, and Cloud relaxes into the touch with a pleased hum. There’s the occasional zing of pain when Zack skirts around the lumps on his head, but the pain fades into a dull background noise over time, as they sit and drift into the quiet of the night.

The ambulance arrives not two minutes later.

#clack #cloud strife #zack fair #ffvii #ff7 #remake #crisis core #fanfiction #whump #zakkura #hurt comfort #cloud strife needs a hug #promptfills #trans cloud strife

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