#them starting it for fun to satisfy their 'needs' but ahh shit i actually like this fucker and dont want to hurt em or be without them oh no
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NEED to see irouma making out sloppy style
(Check tags btw i went on a tangent)
#irouma#love them being besties and whateva but thats already established#like yh theyre friends they worked together in secret and they both felt shit at the act of killing the other and had the other around#on the regs#like yeh thts awesome#but also#kokichi grabbing her hair while biting the nape of her neck hehe#arguments turning into kissing and hand everywhere and soft moans#them starting it for fun to satisfy their 'needs' but ahh shit i actually like this fucker and dont want to hurt em or be without them oh no#them being softt#i LOVE thought and fic pieces of them being so loud n brash n rough in piblic but being so soft with each other i private your heart aches#people are so distracted by the concept of worsties forever that the genuine angst content of irouma isnt fully explored#the soft kisses moving to longer talks about their situation turning to solemn glances away from each other#im... not supposed to be feeling. this. its a distraction#im not... we could di..#we'll get bck to building in the morning#then ouma quietly rolls off her#she doesnt murmur much than a 'night' as he moves away#shes already twinhed by the new lack of warmth#and trying to ignore that that new coldness/emptiness may not just be on the outside#aahhhh oumiu fic piece n concept bits lets goo insomia writing!!!#oumiu#danganronpa#ndrv3#new danganronpa v3
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im attempting my fic reread today. im announcing this bc i will be liveblogging to keep my morale up, NOT THAT anyone cares but i personally need this, like ill only commit to do the thing if theres an imaginary audience holding me accountable. & i like to have fun :3
anyway. captains log, its a beautiful sunny july weekend. i just finished my morning coffee, and, i am dreading this so much. i dont like rereading my own writing but i shall get over it. ok here we go.
Þetta Reddast vagueblogged directors commentary edition
Ch 1:
*opens fic and starts convulsing immediately* god i wish i smoked weed rn. i cannot chill out ever for the life of me
My Mission For Today Is: to remember what plot threads I’ve left hanging so I can resolve this story properly. And also try n remember where the flow is going. I have the end plotted out, I just am a little lost … it’s been a while :-(
------------
Abrupt beginning!!!! I’m not mad because I have . I HAD. Almost no writing experience when I started this. it isn’t ideal but I refuse to be one of those fanfic writers that starts rewriting early chapters without finishing the last ones. Ive never seen one of those types actually finish a longfic. …I’d already rather yap than actually read LMAO AHH
Oh this is worse than I remember. thats cool that s great ok alright *coughs up blood*
"20 somethings" WOW I really did not know where I was going with this when I started huh
LKJSDLKSJDLGKGDJSLDGJK ??? Who authorized this. Who let me cook. What the hell
I could write this better now. I could edit this into something beautiful. <- devil on my shoulder
FORGOT I WAS MAKING RICE BRB
"generously offered nothing to the exchange." wait STOPPPP. I’m so funny
GRAMMAR ERROR DETECTED why is there two periods. I’ll be coming back to fix that …………………. :-(((
Fuck. This is a lot. Marge Simpson Hiding Her Face dot Png
Oh this is stupid this is gayyy this is fukcinnn . Who fucking did t his. What was wrong with me,. This is so good actually. what was i ONNNN.
Im gonna throw up and I don’t know if thats like/. A complimentary thing or if im just cringing that hard . Im feeling emotions. I love my OTPs..OT3~5? I love them so so much
Ok as much as im like “eww bad writing” this is .. dare I say, rly good in places. Not to suck my own dick but maybe all hope isnt lost and imposter syndrome is an illusion
Grammar mistake #2. Goddddddd. they should ban me from the archive for this
EMILLLLL EMIL EMIL EMIL HIIIIII BABYYYY EMILLL I LOVE UUUU AWWHUUGHH everyone clap for my bewoved baby bruvver right FUCKING now
Urghhh gritting my teeth… Im fully expecting the flow of events to start not making any gd sense. There’s no way this came together the way I hoped in my head and .... For real I was never able to read this all the way thru. this is my first time, lol. and it was all disjointed on the authorial end to say the least. Im scared T-T
Jlxjvklsdkjfsjlkdkjlsjklkljzsdkjlgaskljdgjklasljkgdljkasljkdgjklasjlkdgljkaskljdgjakl??????????
Im not liking the ratio of dialogue to whatever the other stuff is. scene-setting I guess. prose maybe. i could have dragged this out way longer... By which I mean made it a more satisfying read. But WHATEVER !!!!
TIMO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TIMOOOOOOOOOO NUMERO UNOOOO DO MUNDOOOOOO I really need to utilize him more. As soon as I finish this fic I need to write a Timo POV spinoff where he gets cancelled on furry twitter for proshipping in real life
Hmmmm chapter ending didn’t hit as hard in practice as it did in drafts. Oh well. God damn that was a lot to happen in one chapter LMAOO???
OH SHIT MY RICE IS STILL COOKING ——
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your work is all so amazing!! do you have any advice for writers who maybe want to start writing longer fanfictions?
Ahh!! Fhhfkf thank you!!! ;^; I don't know how useful or coherent my advice might be, but here's what's helped me in the past:
1. Know what kind of writer you are. If you work better by starting with a structured outline, do that, but make sure to actually start WRITING the scenes after that lol. If you get more momentum by diving in and just seeing where the story goes, do that, but make sure you have a DIRECTION to go in. A healthy balance of planning and discover-as-you-go is the most fun in my experience. (I usually start by improvising and having fun with a concept and then gradually cornering myself into planning lol. By then, planning isn't a chore; it's just satisfying to see everything fall together.)
2. Don't force an idea to be a long fic if it doesn't need to be. If you feel like your concept would be better served by a short fic, do it justice by not stretching it into a shape it doesn't need.
3. If your concept is bigger and does need a long fic format, make sure you know what threads you're weaving together. Write an actual list of themes, subplots, and character arcs and keep track of them, and figure out how you want to pace them in relation to one another.
4. Have resources prepped! Name banks for minor characters; notes/links to articles on the time period/environment/culture you're writing about; pictures that inspire you; songs that hype you up for your story or the characters... Mostly, if you don't like doing research, START LIKING IT. Find joy in researching the symptoms of hypovolemic shock and the native flora of Northern China. Look up multiple sources for each little topic. (I just keep a messy list of links and notes in the bottom of my docs lol)
5. If you get stuck or bored, revisit the source material. Watching/reading the original story can remind you why you got so excited to write fic about it and refresh your ideas.
6. If you're bored while writing a scene, it's probably boring to read. Don't turn writing into a chore. Think about what needs to happen in a scene and why it matters, find what you care about in it, and follow that. If it starts feeling like you don't need a scene and that you were just using it to fill in time, cut it.
7. My favorite thing: don't be afraid to write out of order. Write little blurbs or pieces of dialogue for chapters way ahead, if you have something in mind! Give yourself a goal to catch up to. It'll help you get the big picture of your whole fic and then fill in the scenes you need to get there.
8. Don't let people tell you what to write!! This goes both ways: if people say "it should've gone like [thing you don't wanna do]," tell them to shush and write their own shit. If they say "it would be so cool if [thing you were already planning] happened," do it anyway! You don't have to change just for the element of surprise. Don't twist the story out of place just because someone guessed your awesome idea. Everyone will be happier for it.
9. Don't settle for your first draft if it doesn't feel right. If you're working on a scene and it doesn't fulfill what you need, restart it from as many angles as necessary until you're happy. Seriously, building off a scene you don't like will make you feel dissatisfied and poison everything to follow.
10. Talk about your fic with people who hype you up about it. If you're not used to writing long stories, do what you need to keep you motivated and EXCITED about it. If asking someone to beta read helps you, do it! (I almost never ask for beta readers bc I'm a control freak, but honestly they can be so helpful.)
11. The forbidden tip: if you lose interest halfway through, it's okay to drop it. Do what makes you happy. You don't owe anyone anything and you're doing this for free. Try to finish it though lol, it's so satisfying to see a work complete. Do it for the dopamine at the end.
Disclaimer: I write long fics 1) because I like to soak in them and savor them and 2) because I don't know how to shut up and write short ones lol. I deeply admire people with the skill to just say what they need to say and wrap up a story neatly.
Also, I don't follow my own advice. Plenty of my scenes have fluff that I could have cut but didn't because Mark Twain is dead and can't tell me what to do lmao
I hope this had something helpful in it 😅 Good luck! 💖💖💖
#anonymous#my writing#oh look it talks#sorry for the long post i didnt have time to write a short one#it takes more work to say something with brevity#honestly yeah tip 12 if theres a shorter way to say something then do that instead#again i never follow my own fuckin advice
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Could you do a Ushijima, kiyoomi, and osamu fic where their s/o bites their butt😃⁉️
Also I love your vibe let’s be friends🤰
shoot id bite their ass any day 🧍🏾♀️… and sureeee i’d love to be friends (i’m just hella awkward)
Ushijima
“yeah i’ll be done soon” you and Ushijimas conversation was coming to an end. Prior to the conversation you guys were talking about how much ass can someone hold on their body.
25 minutes before
“i just don’t think that Aunt Fanny could hold all that ass on her yk, like i know she’s a robot but gah daum” you exclaim
“y/n, i don’t understand why we’re arguing about a cartoon characters butt” says ushijima. He always loved how you would just talk about some weird shit, it really made him think.
“i don’t know.. you wanna watch Robots (yk the movie)” you smile
Present time
So now your here about to go watch Robots, just because y’all were talking about Aunt Fanny :))
you ushijima was getting the movie set up in your bedroom while you were getting one of his hoodies.
“what do you think its on” he asks “uhm it should be on hbo max or hulu, i think?”
there’s some silence, but the only thing audible the sound of the remote. you make your way back into your bedroom and sit on the bed waiting for him.
“ahh, i found it” he smiles, he’s so cute. he does this thing that when he figures something out he’ll go “ah” like a little huff yk. like a lil satisfied noise :))
“yay, an you turn it up a little bit please”
“yeah” he walks up to the tv (cause for some reason y’all lost the actual tv remote so you have to control using the Tv buttons) and bends down a bit to see the buttons.
Since y’all were on the topic of asses. his ass was looking real good… you just wanted to bite it and that’s exactly what you were gonna do.
“do you need a light, love?”
“uh… yes, my love”
you quickly get up and he stands up a little bit to look at you.
“look back down to find it” he follows your words, and you place a hand on his back as he leans. “hey y/n can you tur-” *CHOMP*
*audible silence*
he slowly rises up and looks down at you, you never felt so small in your life bro.
“now y/n… why’d you do that”
“you ass looked so good”
“okay now give me yours”
“i beg ya pardon 😀”
***
kiyoomi
In the public he was always so well behaved and reserved. but man when he’s around you he’s different. he’s still calm and thoughtful and making fun of Atsumu, but he’s a lot more playful.
You and your boyfriend always play pranks on each other, just for the hell of it. You started the pranks first in your relationship and he just does them back to get back at you, then it’s a while repeating cycle.
“hey, kiyoomi” you say in a teasing way, it’s always satisfying to hear you say his name, he loves it.
“yes, my love?”
“so i heard from atsumu, that you said that i have a pretty butt”
he just looks up at you and his face gets red. “w-what?”
“so it wasn’t true??”
“no no you do, i’m just surprised.. that he told you that” he’s still visibly flustered
“mhmm, i just came to tell you, that you have the fattest ass ever”
“oh my god” he rolls his eyes playfully and walks off into the kitchen
shoot you weren’t lying. when he walks that shit jiggles, baddie with the fattie 😩
7:20 pm
“hey dinner is almost ready” he says through the phone
“okay i’m coming right now”
when you open up the door to your office the smell of whatever Kiyoomi was cooking was blessing your nostrils.
you walk down to the kitchen and spot kiyoomi who has his hair in a lil mini ponytail with some strands coming out (HE’S SO FINE 😩) and has is still sitting mixing whatever was in the dish he was making.
you walk over to him and put your hands around his waist and your head on his shoulder. “whatcha making” “i’m makin-” he gets cut off as you squeeze his ass “y/n.. keep your hands to yourself” “okay okay”
“Anyways” he continues to explain the dish he’s making “can you grab the plates out?” he asks. “yes sir”
while you grab the dishes you just can’t help but look at how good his ass looks again, but this time you gotta a get a bite, like come on it would be wrong. of you not to.
so you place the dishes down next to the stove top where he was cooking. “thank you, lovely.. can you also check on the rice, i think it’s done…y/n..” *CHOMP*
he jumps bro and it sends you flying back, i swear a straight up K.O.
“WHY THE HELL??!”
“you said i had to keep my hands to myself ,so i used my mouth”
“THAT WAS A FEELING I NEVER WANT TO FEEL AGAIN, Y/N”
“omi are you lying to me, i know you liked it:((”
“.. next time just don’t do it so hard”
****
Osamu
Osamu is always touching you or groping you in some way. While out shopping he slaps you ass, or if your looking at something he’ll come up behind you and grip onto your hips. yk just anything.
so now you do the same thing to him. You slap his ass in front of his brother, and you grab on to HIS HUMONGOUS TITTIES. so something like this is always normal.
But one thing that always pissed you off was Osamu would always want to bug you while you slept, he’d often come lay in the bed with you and kiss your face and feel on your ass just to wake you up so he can tell you that he bought a new spice or some shit.
so now it was revenge time 😏
Currently he was sleeping, he was taking a nap because he was exhausted from running the restaurant. They had just put a new item on the menu and it was really successful.
you walk into the room and see his sleeping figure, he’s so cute when he sleeps his hair all messed up and his lips slightly parted, SO CUTE 😩
“‘samu.. you awake?” no response, great.
you climb onto your side of the bed and slowly push the covers off of him until you see gigantic and juicy ass.
*CHOMP* *CHOMP* *CHOMP*
you gave this man 3 bites.. and all he does is groan
“mmm, y/n keep doing that”
“WHAT THE FUCK?!!”
**
Masterlist
Have a great day and eat food and drink water!!!
#suckmybigtoeoikawa#sakusa headcanons#sakusa imagines#sakusa x reader#osamu headcannons#osamu imagines#osamu x reader#ushijima headcanons#ushijima imagines#ushijima x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#miya osamu#osamu miya#ushijima wakatoshi
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Assuage: Chapter 3
Yoongi x Reader
Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers
Warnings: Hunting (nothing descriptive and they’re not just hunting for the fun of it, it’s for survival)
“You know, it’s about damn time that these dumb asses gave me some help around here!” Kibum exclaimed happily as Yoongi stood awkwardly in front of him. “Well, don’t just stand there boy! Grab that maple wood there!” Yoongi moved quickly, grabbing the long plank of wood before moving back over to Kibum, setting it down in front of him.
Yoongi had only been working with Kim Kibum for a few days now, but he had quickly learned just how...out there the man was.
“You know, I’m one of the oldest elders in this damn pack and because of that, you would think that our amazing Pack Alpha would’ve given me some help before now but no!” Kibum ranted loudly as he grabbed a buzz saw, cutting into the maple wood.
“Uh, how old are you exactly?” Yoongi wondered, looking at the full head of grey hair that the Alpha man sported. Yoongi figured that he had to be over 60, because he didn’t have a distinct scent anymore.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Kibum smirked. “You just hope that you’ll be lucky enough to make it to be my age someday. Now, come here so I can show you how to cut out this shape for a bed that someone ordered!”
Even though it had only been a few days since he started working with Kibum, he found himself enjoying both the work he was doing and the man’s eccentricities. Actually, Yoongi found himself settling into the pack so easily that it almost scared him half to death. With everything that he had just been through with his previous pack, he didn’t want to risk that happening again but he also couldn’t deny how nice everyone had been to him since he had arrived onto their territory.
After spending two hours helping Kibum and learning some different techniques for woodworking, Yoongi walked to the front of the hardware store and sat at the front counter, manning the register while Kibum took his lunch break. Just as he found himself becoming bored, the small bell above the door jingled as it opened, Taehyung walking inside.
“Hi Hyung!” He greeted Yoongi cheerfully, making Yoongi glare at the Beta as he made his way to stand in front of him.
“Are you never not happy?” Yoongi wondered.
“Rarely, except for when Jungkook tries to pull that ‘baby Alpha’ bullshit on me,” Taehyung shrugged.
“Speaking of that, are you and Jungkook like...a thing?” Yoongi questioned.
“You mean are we mated?” Taehyung chuckled and Yoongi hummed while nodding. “Not yet, but hopefully we will be by this time next year.”
“What’s the wait? You’re both presented.”
“Yeah, but he’s still kind of young for mating even by pack standards, with him only being 20,” Taehyung explained. “Plus, Kook was a late bloomer so he’s only been presented for about a year now and he’s still settling into his Alpha hormones.”
“Ahh,” Yoongi nodded in understanding. “And you’re willing to wait?”
“Hyung, I’ve been in love with Kook since I was 17 and he was 15, so over five years now,” Taehyung smiled. “I’m more than willing to wait if it means I’ll be able to spend the rest of my life with him.”
“Must be nice,” Yoongi muttered.
“What about you hyung?” Taehyung wondered. “You ever think about mating and settling down?”
“Not really,” Yoongi shook his head. “Never really appealed to me.”
“Well, that’s fair,” Taehyung shrugged.
“Can I ask you something else?” Yoongi asked and Taehyung shrugged before nodding. “When I first woke up here, at the medical cabin, I heard you and Y/N talking and you said “what if our parents had left me?”. You said it to Namjoon too. What was that about?”
“Ah, that,” Taehyung laughed. “So, as you know, I’m a Beta and I was actually born in a different pack.”
“Really?” Yoongi gaped.
“Yeah. I’m still not too sure of what exactly happened because I was only 3 at the time but my birth parents and most of my old pack were killed,” Taehyung began. “We were a small pack so our territory got taken over and it just wasn’t pretty. I ended up wondering through the woods alone and that’s when Joon hyung and Y/N-ah’s parents found me and took me in. It was actually kind of controversial, especially since their parents were Pack Omega and Pack Alpha at the time and the only kids that they were allowed to have were their own.”
“Because of the bloodline,” Yoongi finished, knowing very well how pack hierarchy worked. When a Pack Alpha and Pack Omega had children, it was expected that one of those children would be the one to take over the pack whenever their parents decided to retire or passed away. Competition for the title was often fierce, depending on the number of children in a family and their subgender, and adding to that adopted children who had no real linkage to the bloodline only served to further complicate matters.
“Exactly, and it didn’t help matters that when I presented, I turned out to be a Beta. The only fucking Beta in the pack at that,” Taehyung chuckled. “It was just another thing that made the adopted kid stand out, you know?”
“I get it,” Yoongi muttered. “Well, where are your parents now? I haven’t met them yet, or at least I don’t think I have.”
“They were both killed in the Great Pack War seven years ago,” Taehyung told him and Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat. Yoongi was more than familiar with the Great Pack War that had taken out massive numbers in almost every pack in South Korea, which included his own parents.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.
“It’s ok. They were protecting the pack at the time, which was always their main goal, so that makes me feel a little bit better,” Taehyung shrugged. “Now doesn’t it make sense why Joon hyung was so uptight about me brining you onto pack territory?”
“Yeah, it does,” Yoongi huffed. “Especially since his mate is pregnant.”
“Yep. Enough about that though,” Taehyung said abruptly, changing the subject. “I came here to ask if you wanted to come hunting with us.”
“Who’s “us”?”
“Me, Joon hyung, Hobi hyung, Jungkookie, some others,” Taehyung listed off. “Since we’re entering fall, Joon hyung wants us to try to get extra meat to put into storage. Just in case snowfall comes early this year.”
“I don’t know,” Yoongi replied slowly. “I mean, my wrist still isn’t 100%. I don’t think I’d be able to take down anything.”
“Well, we always take extra tools like spears and stuff with us so you can use of one those.”
“Taehyung, I’m Prime,” Yoongi deadpanned. “I’m literally made to hunt animals with my bare hands.”
“You presented a problem, I offered a solution,” Taehyung laughed. “It’s up to you to take it or not.”
“I’m working though,” Yoongi tried to excuse himself.
“Not anymore,” Kibum interjected as he stepped out of his small office that was just to the left of the front counter. “I’m giving you the rest of the day off.”
“Really?” Yoongi asked.
“Yeah, it’ll be a good way for you to show that you’re contributing to the pack,” Kibum said. “And make some friends because Lord knows you need some.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Taehyung laughed. “So, what do you say hyung?” As much as Yoongi wanted to say no and keep up the façade of him not wanting to get too used to the pack, he also couldn’t deny how antsy he was to hunt again and satisfy that part of his biology.
“Fine,” he relented, cringing immediately afterwards when Taehyung let out a loud cheer.
.............................
Following Taehyung out to the edges of the pack’s territory, Yoongi was surprised to see so many people preparing themselves to hunt. Most of all, he was surprised to see you standing there as well, talking to Namjoon.
“Hey, nice to see that you’re joining us Yoongi!” Hobi greeted him cheerfully and Yoongi just nodded towards him.
“I have to say, I told Taehyung that he wouldn’t be able to con you into coming,” Namjoon chuckled as he pulled off his t-shirt, and Yoongi noticed that he had the same tattoo that you had on your right should smack dab in the middle of his chest.
“Him and Kibum double teamed me,” Yoongi shrugged. “I had no choice.”
“Figures,” Namjoon chuckled.
“What are you doing here Y/N?” Yoongi found himself asking. “You seem a little too high maintenance for hunting.”
“High maintenance my ass,” you scoffed. “You sure your ‘Prime’ senses will be working well enough for you to even hunt?”
“Don’t worry about it. Speaking of senses though, wouldn’t it be too much for you to be hunting Omega?” Yoongi questioned, taking a little pleasure in the way that your scent soured a little.
“You wanna see how dangerous it can get, you keep talking, dumb ass Alpha,” you spat back.
“Oh my god, enough,” Jungkook chuckled. “Are you two gonna do this shit every single time you see each other?”
“If he wants to keep going, then I can too,” you smirked, making Yoongi roll his eyes.
“Never thought you would’ve been the petty type Y/N-ah,” Taehyung laughed as he took his own shirt off, and Yoongi noticed that he had the same tattoo that you and Namjoon had on his left shoulder.
“Alright guys, you all know the rules but I’m gonna reiterate since Yoongi’s new here,” Namjoon began, silence falling over the small crowd. “Stay within pack territory, you’ll be able to smell the scent markers. Please don’t try to take down anything big if you don’t think you’ll be able to handle it.”
“I don’t want to have to patch any of you guys up,” you added with a smile.
“And lastly, if you run into anyone else on our territory and if you smell anyone else that’s not a part of the pack, no fighting,” Namjoon finished. “You come get me and I’ll handle it. Understood?” A murmur of confirmations flowed through the air, making Namjoon nod in satisfaction. “Well, let’s go.”
Everyone darted off then and Yoongi did the same, following behind Taehyung as they ran deeper into the forest. Since Yoongi hadn’t been hunting in almost three weeks, feeling the wind whipping against his face and scalp seemed to make him almost come alive again. Yoongi loved to hunt, especially since he was exceptionally good at it (even for a Prime Alpha) and it was one of the few things that he was praised for in his former pack so being able to finally do it again was a literal breath of fresh air.
Deciding to be smart, Yoongi had mostly let Taehyung and Jungkook lead him through the forest, since they both knew their territory better than he did. He helped them take down some rabbits and squirrels, and even some groundhogs and woodchucks.
“Wow Yoongi hyung, your nose is amazing,” Jungkook smiled as he strung the rabbits up together, making them easier to take back to the dining hall for preservation. “Oh, is it ok if I call you hyung?”
“Sure,” Yoongi shrugged, figuring that if Taehyung was already doing it, then there was no harm in Jungkook saying it.
“God, I’m definitely going hunting with you all the time now,” Taehyung announced giddily. “I’ve never caught this much, this fast, and this easily.”
“I’m looking forward to that,” Yoongi muttered sarcastically, freezing immediately afterwards when he caught a whiff of the air.
“What is it?” Jungkook wondered, noticing how he froze.
“It’s musk deer,” Yoongi whispered, turning around quickly as he tried to get a better idea of where exactly the deer was. “Stay here.”
“Hyung, you can’t take down a deer by yourself,” Taehyung murmured. “Your wrist.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi stated simply, stalking away from them and moving quickly to his left, the scent of the deer becoming stronger and stronger. He stopped behind a tree, smiling to himself when he saw the deer grazing on some grass in the small clearing between the tree he was hiding behind and another. The deer was totally unaware of it’s surroundings, and Yoongi just knew that it would be an easy takedown.
Just as he moved from behind the tree to pounce at the deer, he was blindsided as he felt a blow connect to his knee and knock him down onto the ground hard.
“What the fuck?!” He sneered, shaking his head as he tried to regain his composure. When he looked up, he saw you there, standing in front of the now dead deer.
“Hi,” you smiled, waving your hand at him lightly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” He questioned as he stood up, dusting his clothes off.
“Oh, was this your deer?” You asked innocently. “Don’t worry. It’s probably better that I took him off your hands for you.”
“You smelled me here,” he accused you and you shrugged your shoulders while smirking.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” you vacillated. “Maybe I just wanted to show you what dangerous really looks like.” Feeling himself seething with anger, he just spun around on his heel and began to walk away, stomping back towards Jungkook and Taehyung. As he did so though, he couldn’t help but to wonder who the fuck you were and how the fuck you had learned to be such a damned good hunter as an Omega; almost even better than him.
#bts#bangtanarmynet#bts reactions#bts imagines#bts yoongi#bts suga#suga x reader#yoongi x reader#abo yoongi#abo suga#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#suga smut#suga angst#suga fluff#werewolf bts
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Beast Survival - 1
Writer: Nishioka Maiko
Season: Summer
Proofreading: royalquintet (JP & ENG)
Jun: Wha— They're asking me to play the leading role? Umm, why me...?
[Location: Training Room]
Jun: (Woah. I totally zoned out while working out, and now my shirt's soaked with sweat. Feels real gross...) (I should change outta it soon..... But even then, this is the second one I've gone through.) (Did I bring any other spares...?) ( — Ooh, looks like I've got one left. So this is a case of "preparation is prevention", huh. Serious props to the past me for this.) (Heading all the way to the changing room's a pain, so I might as well just change here. There's no one else around, after all.) (Ahh~ Nothing beats changing into a new shirt right after sweatin' up a storm.) (I'm all refreshed in both body and soul now.... is what I wanna say, but it's not that easy...) (Recently things've been so dreary no matter what I do, and even working out like this doesn't do anything to clear up the feeling.) (It feels just like the post-workout burn, like my limbs are made outta lead or something.) (Isn't there usually a link between being active and feeling refreshed? Or well, it depends on how much working out you do, I think.) (The training I had to do as a kid was so rough that I couldn't even eat sometimes, after all.) (Rather than refreshing... It was more like defreshing.) (Well, it's thanks to that my physical stamina and strength's basically on par with actual athletes now, but I still think of it as an unfortunate product of my past.) (.....Hm, what's this? Someone's poked their head in from the entrance... looks like it's — ) Heya, Anzu-san, what's up~ What're you doing all the way in the gym? I'm the only one here, y'know~? — Huh? Ohh, so that's it. You need me for something, huh. Hm? I don't seem to be doing so well? Is that how it looks? Well, it's true I haven't been feeling too my best, but... Ahh, nah, it's not physical or anything. I can still work out like this, as you can see. It's just... moodwise, I haven't been feeling too hot, or I've been feeling kinda gloomy, actually. So it's been kinda throwing my daily routine outta whack, I guess? What's that? Ah, well, if I had to give a reason... It really isn't that big a deal, seriously. I mean, Ohii-san's moved outta the Reimei dorms and into ES's, right? Up 'til now, that guy would make me pour all his tea, carry all his shit, and show him all around... He's a complete asshole who'd dump it all on me when it came to pretty much everything. Unfortunately, I got completely used to it. And now my current roommate's the prim-and-proper type who takes care of his own stuff himself. So ever since Ohii-san headed off, I've gotten fewer chances to take care of things and it's been messing with my motivation and stuff. Kinda like something's missing. Really now...? You're asking if I'm lonely? Goddamn. It's nothing like that, alright. Even in a part-time job you'd feel better being kept busy, right? It's more agonising when you have nothing to do. Killing too much time can kill you instead, after all. That's what I'm feeling right now. You wonder about that, do you? Keep making fun of me and I'm not gonna let you off, alright~? In any case, did you come looking for me just to shoot the breeze? You should be plenty satisfied now, then. I'm off, see ya. — Woah—!? Don't drag me back so forcefully, please. You're gonna stretch out my shirt, y'know. Alright, alright, I get it. You really do need me for something, huh? Well, what d'ya need me for~? Mm? What's this? A project proposal? Ohh, so it's a proposal for a stageplay... Ah~, sorry. I'm not really familiar with stuff in that field. Hmm. So the director of the play's really all that famous? — And what about it? Why're you giving this proposal to me? Wha— They're asking me to play the leading role? Umm, why me...? Mmm, well, it's not that I'm unhappy about it or anything.... I really appreciate them nominating me for the role, actually. It's just that I don't really know anything about theater, so it's a given I'd wonder why, yeah? Ahh. So the director came to see both Summer Live and SS last year, and became a fan of me? Is that so~ That makes me real happy ♪ But all the same... why? Ahh, please excuse me for being so skeptical. You could say it's just in my nature, or more like... Feeling like I can't trust anyone but myself is just something that's carried over from my life at school. I can't help but think that if some juicy offer sounds too good to be true, it probably isn't. I mean, think about it. We lost as Eden that time, after all. Not to mention the agency's unprecedented scandal completely blew up, and thanks to that I feel like there's no way our live could've won anyone's heart. Well, I'm pretty glad for it, honestly. We broke past all those various disappointments and still managed to pull off an awesome performance — it felt really great. But I'm sure anyone watching wouldn't have felt the same way. That's not the case, you say? Ahh, geez. You're... way too soft, is how I'd put it, I guess... Huh. So we caught this director's interest even despite the whole incident...? Well, they definitely sound like the eccentric type~ But y'know, if you're the one saying this I'm sure you're not being two-faced about it or anything, so I'll be good too and properly hear you out. Thank you very much. Huh!? Me starring in this stageplay would make it better than all the rest...? And they think I'm the number one best choice for the role.... Why are they going that far? They even said that since I can use my past experiences to bring the role to life, there's no one else who could play it?
Jun: T-this is the first time I've gotten such a passionate job offer... ... Well, it's not like it feels bad to hear the extent of their praise. I get it. I've never performed in a play before, so I'm not sure just how much I can do, but I'll go at it with all my heart and soul! ? What are you so happy for? You're not the one performing. Wha—? The script's actually done already!? And on top of that, it was written with me in mind...!? They didn't even know if I'd accept the role or not. Talk about jumping the gun... And they would've done anything to get me to accept, huh... That's actually a lil' scary, y'know. Well, since I said I'd do it I'm not gonna back out or anything, so please don't worry. There's still time to get introduced and have a quick run-through of the script. Ahh, yeah, I gotcha. I'm gonna be sure to read it from front to back. Alright, I'll start now, then~ Let's see — the title's "King of the Grasslands"? Pretty grand title, that. My role's... uhh, you said i'm playing the lead role, so... — Wait, whaaat the actual hell is this!?
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✦ all ✦ next →
#jun sazanami#enstars#ensemble stars#enstars translation#s: beast survival#era: !!#type: scout#status: complete#hyenahunttl
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I could NOT resist your prompt meme and I could equally NOT resist asking for 69 😎 (Doing this on anon because I still haven’t worked out side blogging, but I’m cherrydreamer)
@cherrydreamer Don’t worry, this is my sideblog as well, and it is just not a function yet to send asks from them!
69. “I’ve never done this before.”
And while I have, I’ve never written it before, so this is exciting!!! I sat down when I came home today, and wrote it all out in one sitting, 1.6k words only, but I knew from the moment I even got this ask exactly what I wanted to do, and I am very happy with the result! Just straight to the point!
Thank you so much for sending one in!!! Before I let you all read this juicy fic, I wanna say that I’ve gotten 5 69 requests, yes, 5, and several friends have admitted they were so close to saying 69 or 420, and I think it is hilarious, I love each and every one of you all so much for this!! 😂😂🤣 AND I’m gonna do them all!!! all 5 69s; I already know what the next two are gonna be!!
Now, with my rambling done, please, enjoy~
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“I’ve never done this before,” Steve says, honest, and his words don't surprise Billy.
“Yeah you don’t strike me as the type,” his response spoken through a crooked smirk, eyes adoring as he takes in the perfect nudity of his blushing boyfriend.
And Steve’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “Don’t be rude! I’m doing this for you!”
Billy chuckles and leans in to kiss those smiling lips. “No, we’re doing this for us, for fun.” His hand lingers against Steve’s neck; rubbing soothing circles just beneath his jaw.
“You done it before?” Steve’s dark and lustrous eyes fall down to where Billy’s thick chub rests against his thigh, just past the border of where his tan-line cuts off.
“Sure, a few times but only with girls, usually with her on top so I don’t, you know…” He caresses Steve’s cheek and grins something so self-satisfied. “Choke her to death.”
Steve can’t help the chortle that escapes, and he leans forward to press their foreheads together. He’s all flushed and nervous and weirdly embarrassed to try something new, but also excited.
“So how do we do it?”
“Well, as much as I’d love to fuck the shit out of your pretty little mouth,” Billy drawls rough and erotic, his thumb pulling at Steve’s lower lip, “I’m thinking the safest position is for us both to be on our sides, that way we’re both in equal control and responsible for our own breathing.”
Again Steve lets out a little jittery noise, close to a chuckle, as he kisses Billy’s palm. “Okay.”
“And you just say stop if you don’t like it or if it’s too much or for any reason really, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Steve whispers and leans in to kiss the other, smiling and blushing and just- “God, I feel like a virgin again!”
Billy grabs him firmly with both hands to his cheeks, kisses him over and over and over in an attempt to alleviate some of the timid nerves. “You’ll do fine, don’t worry! Now, lie down on your side.”
So Steve does as is asked, lays down on his side, head near where the pillow would have been if Billy didn’t insist they needed the full bed clear of everything that could “get in the way.”
“Mmmmh,” Billy hums in appreciation and runs his hand down along Steve’s side till he reaches a thigh and squeezes it softly. “Comfortable?”
“As comfortable as I’ll get,” Steve replies with a little, happy smile.
“Good.” And there’s a glint of something so devious in Billy’s eyes, lids heavy and pupils blown as he stares down.
Then he gets on his side, mirroring Steve’s pose but with his head in the opposite end, eyeing up that long cock that lies at half mast, having gone a bit soft from nerves, but Billy doesn’t take it personal. He looks down - or up, depending on whose perspective is to be taken into consideration - and catches Steve looking back.
“Enjoying the view?” Billy asks and cracks a wide and humored grin.
Steve visibly swallows, and nods. “Y-yeah, very.”
The trust placed in him is terribly heart warming, and just goes to show how much Steve really loves Billy. And Billy can’t help but love him back.
“Now lift up your head and I’ll just slip my leg underneath so you can rest on my thigh if need be, yeah?” Billy’s calm as he guides Steve on this exploratory journey, rock hard but patient, and Steve does exactly as instructed. “Perfect.”
“Any… any final advice?” Steve’s tone is hesitant but intrigued.
To those words, Billy licks his lips, making them good and wet, smirking like a devil down between Steve’s thighs. “Don’t be shy.” And he wolfs down Steve’s dick in one go, sucking him in as deep as he can go before gagging.
“Fuck, ah!” Steve gasps loudly and tenses up in an attempt to fight the urge to buck his hips for more.
Billy works him over good and ravenously, a hand around the bottom of the shaft where his lips can’t quite reach, tongue rolling against the head whenever, moaning and rumbling around Steve’s cock as it’s quick to grow fully hard with such masterful persuasion. It curves so wonderfully along his tongue and toward his throat.
“Oh God, shit-”
From the lack of attention, Billy moves his own hips, moans out something that could resemble actual words as he inches himself closer to Steve’s head.
There is instant relief in surface tension as slender fingers wrap around his aching erection and starts moving at an all too erratic pace, but it’s working for him, especially when Steve then closes his lips around the head and licks across the slit, swirls around the hot flesh, sucking on just the tip for now, but with such enthusiasm it makes Billy’s cock kick and leak near immediately.
Steve gives good fucking head for a guy who’s mostly only been with girls, but there’s always such a ferocity to it, like he loves the feeling of Billy’s girthy cock in his mouth, on his tongue, tickling the back of his throat as he swallows all of him.
He would survive, Billy thinks, if he had decided to be on top of this, fucking with abandon into this incredible wet heat while sucking off Steve’s own lengthy dick. Steve could probably take it, would probably just let him thrust with wild abandon. And the imagery of it is enough to make him go insane.
“God, Stevie,” he pops off to groan out, breathing hard and ragged as he gazes down, hand still fisting fervently. “Feels so fucking good, pretty boy, you’re doing so so good for me, arrh-”
And Steve moans eagerly, goes deeper till there’s no more flesh and his nose is pressed against Billy’s balls.
“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Billy pants and hisses.
Before going back to taste the pre that drips from Steve’s hard cock, Billy shoves three fingers into his mouth, gathering spit and licking around each digit, getting them as soaking wet as possible, then brings them over Steve’s hip, between his cheeks and teases at his hole, getting the rim nice and slippery, but not yet penetrating; waits for the go ahead.
Steve pulls off to meet Billy’s gaze, his own expression that of unadulterated euphoria. “Please, please, yes.”
It takes no more than that to make Billy drive in his middle finger all the way past the second knuckle, earning himself a loud and wonderful, “Ah!”
As he pumps the finger in and out, he bobs his head in tact, keeping a fast and confident rhythm, knowing from the way Steve loses all control of his voice that he’s doing absolutely magnificent, and the elated sounds coming from his boyfriend could easily bring him over the edge.
“Oh fuck, ahh, Billy, yes! M-more-” Steve mewls and calls out, having completely abandoned the task of sucking Billy clean, but more than makes up for it with a slick and excited handjob.
He needs air, and it is his first time doing something like this, he’ll learn, with practice, Billy’s not upset or disappointed.
By the keen request, he pushes in a second finger, keeps the same pace and recognizes easily from the way that Steve’s rambling and moaning out curses that he’s close, Billy’s close, too. Steve’s muscles contracting around his thick fingers, the hand around his cock jerking and flicking like his life depends on it, all he really needs, really wants now is for Steve to cum all over his tongue, fill up his mouth, make him choke and swallow on his semen.
So he sucks with more passion, forces his way further down till he feels the head go deeper into his throat, hollows his cheeks, curls his tongue around the shaft the best he can, and at that Steve comes undone, crying out till there’s no more air in his lung, cumming hard and thick down Billy’s throat, who takes great pleasure in swallowing every single drop.
His own tumble over the edge is incredible, so utterly fulfilling, as he cums into Steve’s swift hand, the heat of his orgasm blooming in his cock and sending warm ripples up his abs, down his thighs, toes curling as he pulls off of Steve’s wasted prick to breathe and groan, his entire being tensing up perfectly as Steve works him through it with a firm yet tender hand.
They both roll onto their backs, panting and heaving, exhausted and destroyed, just reveling in the afterglow and glorious bliss, waiting for their senses to return.
Billy’s the first to move as he sits up to look at Steve. White streaks have been painted across his chest, a bit on his chin, and like in the presence of a masterpiece that hang at the Louvre, Billy admires his work. He reaches down to swipe away sweaty locks from Steve’s forehead, and hadn’t realized just how sweaty his own neck got till just now.
“That was…” Steve huffs, somewhere between serene and disbelief. “Wow, I dunno… Fun?”
And Billy can’t help but chuckle at that. “Yeah,” he says with a nod, “Fun.”
He brings his hand down to Steve’s chest and draws with his own semen, connecting the moles in an incomprehensible pattern.
“Perfetto!” he erupts, showing off what little Italian he has picked up from his dear boyfriend.
Steve leans up on his elbows and looks down at the mess, then laughs joyfully, before saying with a perfect accent, “Molto bene!” And he pulls Billy down into a loving and adoring kiss.
#Harringrove#My Writing#Lemon#Mystery Prompt#500 Followers#Actual 69'ing#Also#Italian Steve#Cherrydreamer#Anonymous
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My Adoring Fan ch. 3
Chapter 2 chapter 4
“Damn it. I keep missin’ the door handle...” The half demon grumbled as she kept reaching for the knob. Eventually, it occurred to her that maybe she should use her right hand to feel around for it and open it that way. As she opened the door, she stuck her head in the door way, not wanting to invade her favorite human’s space fully.
“Maaaaaax, can I ask a favor of you?”
“I don’t know, can you?” Max teased before turning her attention to the cambion, “What do you need, Sunshine?”
As slight blush crossed her cheeks at the nickname, “I was, uh.... I was wondering... if you’d watch while I cook ta make sure I don’t hurt myself...” Azalea looked down, embarrassed. She had just been making a fuss about feeling like she was being babied and now here she was, asking for help when she could do it herself if she tried hard enough.
“Yeah sure. I thought it was your brother’s turn to cook tonight?” She sets the spell book she was studying down.
“He’s not doin’ too hot right now... So he asked if I would do it instead since Zulima’s not allowed anywhere near the kitchen when it comes to cooking dinner.”
“How about I cook tonight instead and you can help me?” The human offered. “I live here too so there’s no reason I can’t cook in place of one you two. By the way your cousins not that bad of a cook. I find it to be enjoyable actually.”
“Are... Are we eating the same cooking?”
“You two are just picky,” She stuck her tongue out at Azalea and Azalea repeated the action.
“C’mon then, let’s go before Hakan starts to destroy the house. Snacks will only satisfy the kid for so long.”
“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Max rolled her eyes with a soft smile.
“That’s what she said,” The half-demon laughs at her own joke
“Azalea!”
“Bye!” The girl takes off, heading toward the kitchen.
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“Heya, weeb supreme, what’s got ya so bent out of shape?” Azalea asks as she ruffles Henry’s purple hair.
“My favorite idol is going on hiatus and she has no plans to come back yet” The boy’s eyes were wet with tears. “How could she do this to her fans.”
“Bruh... she’s a person too. Maybe she just wants a break, did ya ever think of that?”
“Yeah but she could have told us sooner instead of just dipping on us like that!” Henry puffs out his cheeks. "A normie like you wouldn’t understand what it feels like to just be abandoned like that.”
“What did you say?” She asks as a threatening aura emanating from her. “Pretty bold of ya considerin’ you’re scared of everything up to your own shadow.”
“N-Nothing,” He squeaks. “Sorry.”
“Thought so. Now off with ya. Go play some games or somethin’.”
Henry nodded and scrambled out of the kitchen as Max came in.
“What’s his deal?” She asks.
“Oh nothin’,” Azalea smiled. “Just angsty weeb things, nothin’ to worry ‘bout.
“Mhm, sure,” Max was doubtful. “Just get the good out alright?”
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“Yo, ‘Relius, how ya feeling?” Azalea barged into her twin's room before promptly running into the side of his desk. “Oww,”
“You just do not learn, do you?” The younger twin chuckles at the ridiculous of the scene. “Why don’t you have that dumb stick the doctors gave you so you know what’s in front of you on that side?”
“’Cuz its stupid. I got one eye left so I don’t need it.” Azalea pouts as she rubs her hip where she bumped into the desk.”
“You very clearly do considering you misjudged where my desk was and the amount of lamp posts you ran into on our way to school last term.” Aurelius sighs, “If you go back home with any more bruises from running in to shit, you’re gonna give Dad a stroke.”
“Eh, I’ll figure it out eventually. He worries too much.”
“Whatever you say, ‘Zay, whatever you say. Anyway, I’m doing better, thanks for asking. Has Henry stopped fussing over that idol yet?”
“Prolly not. Who knows with him...” She shrugs. “So, about that letter...”
“You’re not fighting anybody.” Aurelius shuts her down quickly, “I don’t even know who sent it other than an initial.”
“Boo, you whore,” She made her way over to his bed and plopped down on it. “Anywho, peppers are in the oven. Max cut ‘em for me and I stuffed ‘em.”
“Thought you wanted to do everything by yourself? Or is it different with her?” He teased.
“Shaddup!” Azalea threw his pillow at him. “It ain’t like that okay?”
“Suuuuure,” He laughed as his sister’s face turned beet red. “We all know the truth, Simp.”
“Stoooop! She’s just my friend!”
“But you don’t want her to be~” he says in a loud sing-song voice, hoping Max might overhear them, “Admit it ‘Zalea. You’ve got a crush.”
“Lower your voice and stop teasing me!”
“Not until I hear you say it.” He smiles.
“You’re a sadist, ya know that? Why do you do this to your only sister?!”
“Because it’s fun for me. Now say it.”
“Fiiiiiiiine,” the older half-demon groans, “I've got a crush on my friend.” It's said in a mumble.
“Huh? Couldn’t hear you. Could you say that again?” Unknown to her, Aurelius had started recording her confession.
“I said I have a crush on Max! There I said it! Happy?” She practically yells as her face turns an even deeper shade of red.
“Oh, yes I am.” He chuckles as he stops recording and Azalea realizes the mistake she’s made.
“You delete that right now!”
“Come over here and make me.” He gets up and pockets his phone as she dives at him.
With a quick dodge to the right where she can’t see him, Aurelius books it down the hall and down the stairwell. Azalea gives chase but runs smack dab into a wall which buys the younger twin more time to get out of the house. As he passes the common room where everyone is hanging out waiting for dinner, he yells out,
“I’m going out. My sister’s going to kill me. Don’t wait up.” And with that he’s out the door and dashing down the sidewalk and into the night.
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She was doing her last-minute shopping before the new school term started next week. As she shouldered her bags, the now on hiatus idol steps out of the shop when she gets nearly run over by Aurelius who was still trying to put as much distance between him and Azalea as possible.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” He says as he helps her up, he’s slightly out of breath. “I should have been watching where I was going.”
She’s a little starstruck as she stares up at him. She was hoping they would meet soon, she just never thought they would literally crash into each other. “I- Oh no, I’m alright. Don’t worry about it. What about you? You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No, I’m alright,” he smiled. “Thanks for asking though.” Aurelius keeps looking behind him for any signs of his sister.
“Were you running from someone...” She pretends not to know his name. She needs a reason to introduce herself after all.
“Yeah, my sister. I have something she really doesn’t want anyone hearing.” He doesn’t introduce himself, assuming she already knew who he was which wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. “I assume you already know my name, but I’ve never seen you around town before... Are you new here?”
“No, I don’t. And yes, I’m transferring to RAD this term.” The succubus thinks she has a pretty good poker face but he gives her an odd look- like he’s surprised. “My name’s Persephone, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Persephone.” he thinks she lying but she has no tells that he can recognize. If she is, maybe she’s only lying so he doesn’t feel uncomfortable for nearly plowing over a fan of his.
“You really don’t know who I am? Do you read DevilStyle teen?” Persephone only shakes her head, another bald-faced lie. “Well, that’s refreshing. My name’s Aurelius.” he holds a hand out to her with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
The succubus takes his hand and shakes it with a smile on her face but internally she’s screaming.
“So which dorm are you in?”
“The House of Sorrow.” Her response makes him stop.
The House of Sorrow? And her name starts with a ‘P’... Oh.... Oh no. Okay, play this cool, man. Don’t act weird about this. She seems normal enough so maybe it’s not her. Ahh but it’s as Uncle Asmo always says: ‘Crazy hides well underneath normal’.
“AURELIUS! WHERE’D YOU GO, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”
“And that’s my cue. Sorry to cut this short but I have to get moving.” He says as he brings his demon form out. “Maybe we’ll have classes together at school. I’ll see you around, Persephone.” He hopes they don’t. In fact, if she is ‘P’, he hopes they never meet again but he’s trying to act personable. “Bye!” And as soon as he came, he was gone- soaring high into the sky. “By the way, you might want to take a few steps back! My sister’s about to come barreling through here in a matter of seconds!
The former idol can only nod as she thinks he looks even more beautiful in person.
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Already finished Coteries of New York, so on to Shadows of New York! I’ve seen the first bit in an LP, at least, but the bulk of the story will be new. This will have two playthroughs, one for each ending, since at least it has them XD First up - the ‘good’ ending!
Oh dang I like the music.
Julia is a bit on the edgy/cynical side XD
Yeah, she’s got a shit deal :-\ And what’s worse is that it’s all planned out.
Interesting note - at Lodestar, there were shadowy figures in the background, but you could rationalise it as people on the other side of the windows. On the train, you only see the shadowy features, and it’s otherwise empty, so no obvious figures casting them...
I guess if you choose the ‘don’t shoot’ option, Julia gets drained and it’s an early game over?
God that Embrace scene is intense. I got goosebumps!
Spirits, huh? Oh yeah, Obtenebration became Oblivion and is now connected with necromancy, IIRC?
I’m glad she had a good few nights XD;;
Valerie Duval, she was... the scourge in CoNY hunting down the Red Hook killer?
Nice to meet you, ‘Katherine Wiese’ XD
Cool ponytail, Qadir! I really dig the relationship between him and Julia, it’s fun. ‘sup Aisling, how’s Agathon? A blood hunt, really? Y O U. Okay yeah probably better for Julia’s long-term survival for Arturo to ignore her XD;; Samira’s so pretty. Ooh this guy is Hope’s sire, yeah?
“You wanted to hear about which member of New York City's Camarilla I dislike the most?"
"Yes?"
"Too bad. They're all my dear colleagues, and I deeply respect every single one of them."
"Sure you do. Wouldn't want to blurt out something that could lock you out of Mr Vanderweyden's legal services, would you, you ass-kisser?"
"I do expect to find myself in need of a good defense attorney when my broke, incompetent, and foul-mouthed assistant finally pushes me over the edge."
THEMST.
Benoit hi!! “Got any news about Sophie Langley?” *sharp intake of breath* Benoit backstory, that’s rad. I wonder if it’ll be uncovered in-game? Like we know Arturo is still around, Panhard is still around. Presumably Adelaide Davis is still around. Callihan... well, I know what happens to him. I think Torque ditches the scene before Sophie dies?
Father Leonard seems like a good sort. I wonder what his deal is?
Dakota is adorable. I’m going to do the ‘good’ end first even though I know it’ll make me feel horrible, but dangit, the ‘bad’ end is totally going to be my canon.
...Vin Diesel? XD
DING DONG THE DOUCHE IS DEAD. ...Deader than usual, I mean.
jfc Panhard that is pretentious as hell. Both the party description and the costume, actually XD Qadir’s mask is kind of funky. Oh my god Arturo you are a Toreador is that the best you can come up with?! Nice horns, Aisling.
...Thought, given their clans, Samira/Aisling could be interesting as hell.
Man, Arturo and Panhard must be pissed off XD Unless they’ve already picked their replacement stooge?
And here’s where the plot starts! Hey, isn’t that the priest’s house? Ohh, they’re meant to be meeting with Mia. I guess they’re just reusing assets.
“It’s a list of four names. ‘D’Angelo. Hope. Agathon. Tamika.’“ *SHARP INTAKE OF BREATH* Okay, that could be the list Sophie gave the fledgling. Which one did Callihan get it from?
Oh criminy Dakota don’t tell me you’re into that Q-Anon shit XD;; Ooh okay that makes more sense. Neat.
Ahhh man I was hoping to get a lead and instead Julia has to punish this poor fuck XD;; Yeesh. Okay, Bunny as a Reporter it is, then.
Almost run over by a limo, huh? *chinstroke*
Oooh this is the lead to Hope! Yeah, I’d say she has a connection with a Montgomery XD Wonder if she did end up eating her? Huh, contact used LeakyGutSyndrome... didn’t Hope end up having to retire that one, or was it the other one? Let’s just... Dominate this guy. Sorry dude it’s for your own good.
Agathon’s missing? :( Damn, he’s like one of the only decent Tremere. Oho, a diary! Oh sweetheart :( Oh, Silvia died :( Damn, interesting past, though... and a reference to CoNY again.
Fucking shadows, I literally glanced over my shoulder.
S C H E M E S. And yeah, looks like I’m on my way to the ‘good’ end :-\
Oh shit, Adelaide or.... whatshisname, Kaiser’s dude? Oooh man who to meet first... Kaiser’s dude. Oh. That was a bit anticlimactic XD
On to see Hope at Double Spiral. I think this is one of those choices that leads to one of the endings, so what’s more ruthless and Camarilla... busting in it is.
Nastya isn’t having a good night, is she XD;; Also Hope’s suit is badass.
...huh. Sounds like she’s actually managed to get shit sorted decently XD
Interesting... the coterie members were a list of heroes for hire that multiple people had, including Sophie. Well, that widens the scope a bit! Anonymous information broker, shall I assume that’s Kaiser? OH. No, it’s her sire!
“The story going around is, he left me alone and I hate his guts. Well, at least half of that is true.” Which half, though...
Aww man I wish I had saved some of those websites! I miss SciFiVine...
You know, I’m not 100% sure Carter’s the murderer (my main suspect is Arturo at this point tbh) but damn, the bit about Stern’s show kinda makes me want to slap him anyway XD;;
Queer Catholic blues, huh :-\
“Haven’t you noticed what’s going on in the news? People are going absolutely insane about this virus, cancelling trips and orders and --” Ahh. We’re in that 2020 XD;;
Okay the scene with the kid meeting his girlfriend was cute but then spooky time?? jfc was that the Abyss?!
Ooooh did she just find Tamika solely by accident? Thanks, Abyss XD I love how Julia’s first response is ‘shit, she’s hot’. And she took out a whole SI squad herself? Nice. Calebros mention! Huh, so the SI are maintaining the status quo... they became an issue because the Camarilla tried to sic them on the Anarchs and Sabbat and it backfired, maybe it actually succeeded here?
Ooh, a history with Torque. Neat. Also not sure with the art, but are those tattoos on Tamika’s arm, or fur? I mean, Gangrel beast marks and all.
Sorry Torque I’m just trying to get the ‘good’ end :(
Mention of the fledgling! Officially ‘disappeared’, that leaves it fairly ambiguous at this point.
Oof. The Circulatory System are... not cool. And yeah Julia’s just been called tf out, I do look forward to this scene in the ‘bad’ end XD;;
COVID strikes back. The Big Beat Burger is closed :( Charlie is sweet, at least! I hope his mom is okay.
Well that rat bit was weird. Hi D’Angelo! Oh my god blood doll rats? Drunk blood doll rats?! Still a damn good detective, though, that’s good shit. On to Kaiser and some answers! ...Yeah, okay, he’s a prime suspect too.
Kaiser, you are a deeply unpleasant person :-\
...good to know pepper spray still works. And, uh, probably satisfying to beat him up XD;; And yeah, there’s the last choice for the ‘good’ ending. Sorry dude.
...huh. Okay, I was at least partially right XD;; Oh Qadir, not you too :-\
Well that’s a bit... weird of Dakota, yes.
lmao oh Benoit you absolute mess. Religion as A E S T H E T I C XD I have a theory he’s from Michael’s line and I also quite sincerely believe that Michael would take one look at him and bitchslap him into the next millennium. He’s a Path follower, isn’t he?
Father Leonard is okay. I wonder who the ‘friend’ is?
This is very Agatha Christie, revealing the killer in the midst, except I have the horrible feeling Qadir’s going to go with ‘it was suicide’ and not ‘it was everyone’.
Denouement! Before it ends, Julia’s traits:
Loyal only to myself
Glass half-empty
A little abuse of power never hurt nobody
You can’t be a writer and not lie
The ends justify the means (duh)
Honestly she may have just blackmailed her way into power, set up Carter to take the fall, and sent poor Dakota to final death, but the drama was impeccable XD Good luck not ending up in the Abyss, Julia!
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Drabble game: Member: Jin 6) baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that 21) can’t you stop gaming for 1 second and give me attention?
#6: “baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”
#21: “can’t you stop gaming for one second and give me attention?”
#20: “let me guess, you’re horny again.”
Warnings: oral (M), slight exhibitionism, giving seokjinnie the best suck while he’s gaming and on a call with the boys
A/N: I feel so bad because I really haven’t had much time to write lately because of uni so I haven’t prepared anything special for Jin’s birthday except this. :c But anyway, enjoy~!
.
“Ahh- Aahhh- AAAAHHHHHHH!”
You hear the distinct yells coming from a certain room as you enter the house, a noise so boisterous that it could only belong to none other than your boyfriend.
Which one is it this time, Maple Story or Kart Rider?
Shaking your head in a smitten grin, you walk to the source of the shouts.
To his credit, he at least acknowledges you, “Oh, hey sweetie. Back so early?” To his discredit, he doesn’t even look up from his game, eyes glued to the glaring computer screen, which you don’t doubt have been fixed in place for the entire time you were gone. Kart Rider it is this time.
Tonight was a girls’ night, a few drinks at a nice cocktail bar with your closest female friends (a few meaning maximum three because cocktails are bloody expensive), chin-wagging and updating on each other’s love/sex lives. You always enjoy this type of gatherings.
“Early? Seokjin, it’s one.”
Only a single earphone in, he looks up, but even so, scarcely lest his eyes stray for a second too long from the pixelated road and he crashes again. He’s ranked number 6 right now. Out of seven. Why is he even trying anymore, he’s not going to win. Still, your eyes meet for a fleeting moment, enough for you to feel connected to him again, to trick yourself into thinking that he remotely missed you. Because he definitely didn’t. He didn’t even notice the time, where would his attention find the capacity to remember you while he’s racing his friends on this server?
“Oh shit, now way, it’s one already?” There is a monotone in his voice where disbelief should be. Basically, when Seokjin is gaming, he has two possible moods: over dramatic Ancient Roman gladiator with astounding battle cries, or completely stoic, focused, and most likely won’t realise if you’ve cracked an egg on his head. Both are equally as infuriating.
“Yes, it’s already one.” You sigh, plopping your bag on the floor to the side and striping your winter layers.
It’s shocking, sometimes, to think that your boyfriend is close to reaching his thirties. People compliment him endlessly on his lack of ageing - how doesn’t he have a single wrinkle? he looks the same as he did five years ago, if not better! - but little do they know, not only has he physically not aged, but also has mentally not grown up since the age of sixteen. Sixteen is him on a good day and you being generous.
You wonder if he’s going to stop gaming after this round now that you are back.
You wait.
He ends up coming fourth, which isn’t too shabby considering he had fallen off the course and wound up at the back. Watching as he stretches his board back, you think he’s going to switch his computer off, call it a day and finally come join you on the bed. But then he says into the microphone:
“Guys wait for me, let me change my character.”
You shut your eyes and sigh. Every time.
So you try to mind your own business as you wait for him to finally finish - you don’t mind going to sleep without him, you’re that far into your relationship that you don’t even need to say good night anymore. Practically a married couple at this point.
But then your mind wanders to the conversation you and your girls were having earlier during the night.
On the topic of sex, June brought up how her and her boyfriend has started to switch things up in the bedroom since, as much as she loves him, the same dick gets boring after a year. There was one time where they did policeman roleplay and he dropped the key under the bed and took ages to fish it out, but it was fine because the sex had been a solid 10/10, so apparently it was worth the sore arms. Kerry was surprised that June hadn’t tried to spice it up sooner; she on the other hand has been into moderate BDSM since highschool. Nothing hurts better than the sharp pain of being whipped on the butt by a crop cane, apparently. Just the other day, Namjoon suggested to Eunae that they should have a threesome with another man, the name of whom would not be disclosed, but you considerably suspect that he’s someone you know. Taehyung? Jimin? They seem like the type to be into this shit. But anyway, apparently, it turned Namjoon on a fucking lot to see Eunae get pounded by someone else while sucking his cock. She couldn’t complain at all, except for not being able to walk the next day.
You have such wholesome friends.
When it got to you, you kind of just- sat there poking your fingers. It not that your sex life with Seokjin is vanilla, but that’s exactly what you’re saying. Neither of you are particularly adventurous in nature, especially when it comes to sex. You would say that he has a higher sex drive than you, but only marginally. There are days where you would wake up and before your eyes are fully open, he’d already be inches deep in you. Sometimes, you go a long five days without sex out of tiredness and neither of you have a problem with it. But nevertheless, the sex is, as June described, the same mediocre missionary hammering until he blows his load either too soon or takes too long, with the occasional oral if you’re not feeling lazy.
Yeah, not mind blowing.
It’s not like you minded, but hearing your friends talk about their wild sex life makes you feel like you’re missing out. You and Seokjin are missing some fun, some excitement.
With that in mind, you crawl out of bed and approach your oblivious boyfriend. His shoulders jolt in surprise when he feels your arms snake around his neck from behind. Sparing you a second of his attention, he tilts his head up to meet your gaze, eyes wide in curiosity. You hang over him, cheek pressed on the crown of his head as you watch his game without particular interest.
Then you begin to bury your nose in his thick black hair, trailing tiny pecks all the way down to his face. Your hands start to roam as well, groping his toned chest not at all subtly. Seokjin is naturally well built with his hefty big bones - actual bones as well as, you know, that bone.
His fingers are moving mechanically on the keyboard in astounding reflexes. Hmm, you want those fingers inside… You place a particularly wet kiss on his cheek to try to coax his focus into your possession.
“What’s up, baby?” You count the flicker of his eyes as a small victory, even if you haven’t successfully infringed on his unwavering glare at the screen. Then he speaks into the microphone of his earphones, “Hoseok-ah, I’m catching up, watch out~!”
Ignoring his question as well as his sudden jerking motions to avoid his kart from veering too far, you proceed to kiss down his neck, pressing your warm lips ever so lightly on his skin to create that sensitive sparse contact that will surely make his little hairs rise. Your hands have now travel under his outstretched arms, albeit in an awkward angle due to your position, and are playing with the hem of his shirt. He’s wearing white today, and if there’s one thing you love more than your boyfriend, it’s your boyfriend in white.
When your small fingers reach the band of his joggers, you sense not only his muscles beneath your touch but his entire posture tense. Your wandering mouth feels him gulp.
“Let me guess, you’re horny again?” It’s unusual to hear him speak in such a low voice, a genuine hushed whisper rather than one for dramatic effect. The way he tilted away from the earphone mic does not go unnoticed, trying to to let the boys hear him. How interesting… Why not exploit that?
“Hmm…” You hum, lips still painting his collar now with gentle sucks. Your fingers are feathering his torso, each time daring to dip a bit further under his pants, but never too much. “Can’t you just stop gaming for a second and give me some attention, Seokjinnie?”
He tenses once more.
This is kind of fun. You almost snicker diabolically.
Muffled voices sound from the other end of the call, barely audible from the earphone that has been left dangling by the wire, not plugged into his ear. And you know that if it weren’t for them, Seokjin would be reprimanding you loudly right now.
“After this game, okay sweetie?” The tendons of his fingers strain over his knuckles. Click click click click click. Aggressive keyboard pushing.
“But… I can’t wait…” You put on your babiest voice with a whiny undertone, drawing out each syllable for emphasis. As you use your nails to tickle the skin over his pelvis, one of his knees jerk up and hit the desk.
Cute reflexes, you mirth.
“Shit-” He mutters under his breath. “Please, please, please. You’re distracting me.”
That’s the point.
This time, you reach even further, one hand brushing his thigh, the other returning to his fuzzy navel. “Seokjin…” He tries his best to hold in a sharp inhale at your seductive touch. “Right now, please…”
“Last game, I promise.” He whispers away from the microphone.
“You have two more rounds, you just started a new game, I can’t wait that long.” You nip at the lobe of his free ear.
“Boys, I’m going to bed after this game.” He announces to his friends, shooting you a brief pointed look, and whispers pleadingly, “please.”
Do you feel slightly bad for putting him in such a tortured position? Yes. But do you have every intention of carrying on? Also yes.
“How about this, baby,” you press your mouth against his ear, “you stay quiet while I give you the best blowjob of your life right now, then I’ll be satisfied and leave you be. Or, I go right back to bed right now and probably ignore you for the rest of the week until you do some grovelling for choosing a video game over your girlfriend.”
Seokjin shudders at your warm breath perforating into him and heaves, jaw hanging slightly open as he throws you one long glance. You see the clockwork in his mind turning as he contemplates your offer, clearly torn. Promiscuity is not his thing, so naturally, getting sucked off by his girl while on a gaming call with his friends presents a difficult dilemma.
“Shit, Y/N-ah…” He laments softly, causing a smirk to bloom across your face. He’s going to cave, you know it. Concentration at the game now dispersed, Seokjin wets his lips in hesitation. “Fine.”
So he caves.
Smug, you drop onto your knees and scuttles around his chair until you’re in the shadows of the desk. He rolls his seat back to allow you emerge between his legs. It’s dark down here, yet you know his body inside out. Lifting his rear off, he allows you to tug his joggers down, your hands not missing the chance to skim past the outskirts of his hips. You see him glance down, teeth gritted.
Kissing up the insides of his thighs, you let your tongue dance lucidly, teasing him until his quads can’t tense any further. There’s already a semi-bulge in his boxers, this lewd boy, and when you palm him over the grey cotton material, his lower half buckles.
Oh this is going to be fun.
When you feel more heat rush down to his groin, and his member grows more erect, you stripe the boxers off too. Your boyfriend is still, quiet, and you have to check that he’s still conscious. He is. Very conscious. Of your little shadow casted face in front of his fat aching cock under the desk.
He gulps again. He’s fucked.
Just as he looks back up at the screen so his vehicle doesn’t fall behind, he feels your tingly breath hovering over his shaft, up and down, as if assessing where to devour first. Unluckily for him, it’s his balls. Sucking on the soft delicate skin, one of your hands comes under to cup him. Seokjin lets out a low whimper that sounds vaguely like mmhhah-.
“Jin-hyung, where did you go? Falling behind already?” Jungkook taunts over the call, the other guys snickering after him.
Seokjin can’t even respond. It’s taking all of him to even keep half his attention on the race, how is he supposed to formulate a functional sentence?
You look up at him, grinning devilishly as you fondle his balls in your hand with your tactful tongue. Although his fingers are still clicking away at the keyboard, he is now looking down at you every few seconds. Progress. After a particularly cruel suck that has him curling his toes, you move to his cock.
It is throbbing violently. It tends to do that - Seokjin is a throbber; if you get him aroused but deprive him of the friction, he pulses up in need. You find something about that so cute.
And so, slowly and lubriciously, you drag your tongue up his tongue in a zigzag, curving around his circumference at every turn. “Aish…” He cries, and you know it’s not because of the game. He looks down, for a long couple of seconds this time. His lips are parted, hand pushing the hair out of his face to reveal that glorious forehead that’s powerful enough to topple kingdoms.
Then you swirl around his head, the rough pad of your tongue pressed hard against him, tasting his salty precum.
“Fuck.” He exhales. He knows you know what you’re doing to him and he’s completely under your influence, helpless. You wonder if his friends can hear his soft curses and moans. A part of you wants them to. Exhibitionism? Who would have thought.
You focus on his slit, licking mercilessly at his oozing opening, lapping up the taste of his arousal. His thigh is now trembling. Yet you don’t stop assailing his tip, slowly taking it in your mouth while your tongue performs its magic. Swirling, licking, flicking, sucking.
Abruptly, Seokjin grabs the mic of his earphones, concealing it in his palm to mask his voice when he says, “baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”
You just look up at him, wide feign-innocent eyes overflowing in amusement. His own eyes lock on yours, head tilting to the side in exasperation at your antics. His incapacity against your relentless technique sends your cunt surging.
Finally, you take his cock in your mouth, swallowing him inch by inch agonisingly slowly until he pokes the back of your throat. He has to bite down on his lip to prevent those whimpers from escaping. When you slurp up, your tongue continues to draw patterns across his length, feeling his pulsing veins beneath you. Playing with his bollocks at the same time, you release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop.
At this point, you can tell he’s given up on the game, especially when his left hand grips onto your hair, his hips buckling again to push himself into your mouth. The keyboard sounds are decelerating, his eyes fixed on you more than the monitor, only occasional glances up at the game so his kart isn’t completely halted.
You gag as you bob up and down his cock, salivating endlessly to create a slippery friction for the walls of your mouth to mould over him. He fits in you so well. Each time, you try to take in more and more of his length until his whole member is engorged in your mouth. His taste grows increasingly salty, tip crying tears of precum.
Yup, he’s definitely not going to last.
Fingers holding onto your locks tightly, as if holding on for dear life, his chest rises and falls shakily, breath getting heavier. “Shut up, Jimin.” He says into his mic. You wonder what the boy had said.
As your pace increases and strokes of your tongue intensifies, his thighs squeeze around you. He’s desperately falling apart. Maintaining eye contact, his head collapses back, his neck exposed. He’s so close, you can tell.
So you go as fast as you can despite the ache in your jaw, riding him with your mouth, face stretching to encompass his girth. Tears spring to your eyes yet you ignore them. He’s pushing your head up and down now, guiding your speed to pursue his orgasm.
Then-
“O- fuck!” He groans out loud, not even bothering to lower his volume anymore. A moment later, you feel the violent twitch of his shaft followed by a spurt of warm liquid into your mouth. You slow your imbibing, considering his utmost sensitivity right now, and tenderly suck around his ejaculating tip. His whole body convulses, eyes rolling back. He is at utter surrender, both hands cradling your face, legs sprawled out.
“Nothing,” his voice is unstable as he exhales into the mic, “I just- um- spilt water all over my desk.”
‘Spilt water’ indeed.
You swallow his load in your mouth after pulling him out, hand lazily milking out his every last drop. Seokjin is panting as he gazes down at you, caressing your cheek gratefully, fiddling with your red swollen lips.
“I’m leaving, boys, good night.” He mindlessly ends the call with a few clicks and shuts his computer, his whole attention now devoted to you. “I can’t fucking believe you did that.”
Smiling proudly, you answer, “That was fun, wasn’t it.”
“I’m sure it was really fucking fun for you.” Seokjin hauls you up gently from the ground, and jeez, your knees are sore.
Without a second to waste, he pulls you in by the neck to meet his lips, your tongue still bitter from his cum. He’s not normally particularly dominant, yet this time, there is a roughness to his kiss, and an eagerness in the way his arm traps your waist. Walking back step by step, you tumble onto the bed, your core heated from the pool of desire you’ve collected for him. And when he flips and pins you under him, you know you’re fucked for the rest of the night.
“You’re going to regret doing that.”
.
04/12/19
© Copyright 2019
#curly drabbles#bts#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts fluff#bts imagines#bts oneshot#bts drabbles#bts scenarios#bts reactions#bts angst#kim seokjin#seokjin#jin#happy birthday jin#jin day#seokjin smut#seokjin drabble#seokjin fluff#seokjin fanfic#seokjin x reader#seokjin imagine#jin smut#namjoon#yoongi#hoseok#jimin#taehyung#jungkook#namjoon smut
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Song Lan for the character asks?
ahh hooray I get to do Song-daozhang too!!
How I feel about this character: Oh I love Song Lan. I actually warmed to him a bit quicker than Xingchen, because he’s a little more archetypal and easier to grasp. I’ve got a post circulating talking about how I think he’s just plain cool, and I stand by it! “Wandering undead swordsman” is just a really fun thing to have in the periphery of a fictional world. On top of that, the story that brings him to that point is just so intensely sad, and I eat that kind of thing with a spoon. I love the regret, the sacrifice, the devotion, and the fact that he’s still just out there, that he’s going to fulfill the promise he made despite all the awful shit that’s happened to him. He’s so great, stan Song ZIchen 2k20.
All the people I ship romantically with this character: Poor dear sweet precious Xingchen, first, last, and always, because i love to suffer. I’m not as firmly on the Songxue train as some, but I love Songxuexiao even though in my head it always ends in tears and chaos no matter what the starting conditions are. I’ve also got a fondness for Song Lan/Lan Xichen because I’m in full support of the two saddest motherfuckers in canon holding hands.
My non-romantic OTP for this character: I think he and Wen Ning should hang out tbh, fierce corpse solidarity. My headcanon is that he travels with Wen Ning and Lan Sizhui when they’re being wandering cultivators, I think they could have a cute rapport. I also like to picture the other juniors shyly trailing him around because holy shit he’s so cool (in CQL, the previous generation got to fantasize about being wandering cultivators from meeting Songxiao, I think the tradition should be continued!). And he doesn’t spend very long with A-Qing in canon, but I’d love to see more of them together.
My unpopular opinion about this character: The fandom doesn’t pay Zichen much attention, and outside of Songxiao shippers I feel like the prevailing opinions are either that he’s boring (fair I guess, he doesn’t do too much, but I direct you to my thoughts on why he’s the best character in canon), or that he’s shitty and mean and should get out of the way of Xuexiao, which, lmao no. Like yes, he and Xingchen had some kind of awful relationship-ending fight and Song Lan told him to leave, but Song Lan had just been mutilated and his entire family killed, and he also instantly regretted it and spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it, so forgive me if I’m inclined to cut him some slack! On the other hand, I also feel like he gets turned into a bland, nice boyfriend for Xingchen, which is also whatever, but let him be human honestly! Let him be weird and taciturn and humorless! Let Song Lan Be Kind Of A Jerk! I’m very interested in exploring what he and Xingchen were to each other, and I just don’t think “perfect, unfailingly sweet couple” is it!
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Like with Xingchen, I think his arc in canon is this perfect, tightly-written tragedy that I’m very satisfied by, and I’m especially satisfied having him still out there wandering. I love to explore his post-canon in my head, but I don’t really need to see it written out, you know? I do wish that we knew more about his background, what Baixue temple meant to him, and why he decided to (presumably) leave to travel with Xingchen. I don’t think it’ll happen now, but MXTX once mentioned that she’d like to write the story of how they met, and I’d love to see it.
Send me character asks!
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the maze, part I
Part One of the story! Very excited to post this. -Leslie
I kept the car running in park while the shitty vents sputtered, trying my hands warm. Your Love by that band from the eighties was playing in the distance. I have a love-hate relationship with these roped off grassy parking lots, where there aren't actual spaces, just car anarchy. Take any spot you can find and let’s all hope that some semblance of a parking lot comes together. Sure there’s something inherently egalitarian about it, but they remind me of being scared to park when I was learning to drive. I was always positive that my Camry was too far over, and I’d brace myself for the crunch of metal on metal.
The familiarity of coming to the maze made parking in the lot easier, and I didn’t have to reverse and drive into the same spot over and over again to be satisfied. My friends and I came to Hudler Farm every October for the autumn corn maze. Sometimes we’d take caramel apples in and chaunk through them while meandering.
Fuck, that was always so fun. High school seems like a lifetime ago though. All it takes are a few hundred miles, and staggered midterms, and suddenly you talk to the guy in the dorm next to yours who gets drunk on natty seltzer more than the people who got you through your mcr phase.
None of us got together last year, which was a bummer, but out of the blue Lottie messaged Sam and me. I watched the shadowy families walk by in the dark, my hands weren’t getting any warmer though. The idle LEDs were dim enough that I could see outside. A little boy running after his parents tripped and fell in the mud. I stifled a chuckle, because kids falling down is hilarious, and tried to screw with the vents, but they were already all open. Piece of shit car. When I looked up, the boy was still splayed out on the ground, shivering. Both his parents kept walking though. I scrunched my brow. I started fidgeting with my seatbelt, but my hands didn’t have much feeling in them. People were just walking around him, like he wasn’t there.
“WHAT’S up dog!” My door exploded open.
“JESUS fucking god Lottie, I--” She took her spot in the passenger seat, laughing her ass off.
“Sorry sorry sorry, wow Phoebs I got you pretty good huh?”
“I mean yeah I’m just so ready to get killed in this parking lot. Hey I think that kid hurt himself out there pretty bad.” I breathed, still shaken.
“What kid?”
“That one.”
“Oh that one, sorry it’s dark, so it took me a sec. Yeah let’s go help.” Honestly, I could never stay mad at Lottie. Seeing her new dreads in person made me miss the big buns she wore in high school. We slammed the doors shut, and stepped onto the ground covered in too-damp leaves. Two guys beat us to him though, and they were helping him up.
“Oh wait, is that the kid you meant?”
“Lottie, why would I be talking about a kid that isn’t sprawled out on the ground.”
“I thought this one was playing snake or something. Anyway, let’s go meet Sam’s friend!”
We walked over to the boys, Sam’s friend was getting the kid back on his feet. Sam’s friend was a good head taller than he was, which wasn’t saying too much. The guy gave off an eagle scout vibe though, so his height was probably pretty important to him. Maybe camp counselor would have been closer. He was gently reassuring the kid.
“Feeling better? Okay, better go catch your folks, and make sure not to stay too far behind them, bud, okay?”
“Good call man, I thought he was just playing snake.” Sam glowed.
“Sup fuckers!” Lottie sang. The boy turned around, he looked about nine, so Lotties curse made him bust a grin. From the looks of it he scraped his cheek pretty bad. He dashed off. Sam’s friend laughed nervously since Lottie broke the unspoken rule of swearing in front of kids.
“Hey dudes! It’s so awesome to see you!” Sam laughed. “I told Matrix everything about you, so there’s no need to divulge any information to him. Don’t trust this guy with any more embarrassing stories about yourselves.” Matrix waved shyly, and I rolled my eyes.
“That’s cool. You know we called Sam “Shrimpy” all of sophomore year because his hair got all curly and he dyed it red?”
“Thanks Phoebe, that is something I like people to know about me.” Sam said while subconsciously making sure his hair was still a tight buzz cut. Matrix smiled a little.
“You must be Lottie?”
“It’s great to meet you! Lets get some apples.”
The four of us were waved through by the teen collecting tickets. The entrance to the maze had a little banner raised up on two poles and a chair with an admissions person. Next to the entrance was a main pavilion with a tiny shop and some picnic tables out under the roof. Lots of families were congregating there, buying souvenirs and farm t-shirts. Thankfully this wasn’t one of the maze theme nights according to a big promotional calendar that outlined all the dates. Lottie groaned when she saw that they added alien night and we hadn’t bought tickets.
“Like what does that even mean though. Are there aliens in the maze? Do they scare us?” Sam said eyeing the kettle corn buckets.
“Yeah I mean, it’s probably just like zombie night and mermaid night where you just get like jumpscared by teens in costumes. Freakin aliens though! Imagine!”
“Uhh did you say they do a mermaid night here?” Matrix said.
“Dude I never told you about that! You’re looking at the three scariest volunteer mermaid teens that Hudler farms has ever known. We were unholy legends flopping after scared families.”
Sam and Lottie were wide eyed crowding around Matrix, telling him all about the glory days. Made me pity him, his bud probably had a whole different energy at college.
“They’re fucking with you! Why in god’s name would a corn maze have a mermaid night.” I finally shouted. Lottie pouted.
“Boooooo Phoebe! How dare you!” I wrapped my face up in my scarf to escape guilt.
We all mostly ate our caramel apples under the pavilion just so we could give Matrix the rundown of the maze. The Hudler farm maze has these eight checkpoints which give you special tickets.
“We don’t leave without all eight. Got it? Dee oh en tee. I don’t give a fuck if we die trying.” Lottie said through a mouth of caramel and nuts. It felt surreal having my friends here again. After all, the limited exposure I had to them was social media. I lived vicariously through the photos they posted of new friends.
There was a sign in the pavilion that gave us a rough idea of where all the checkpoints in the maze were. I resisted the urge to take a photo in order to preserve the challenge that the maze posed. Probably didn’t need it to beat our best time. I was the only one who hadn’t finished their apple for traditions sake. Hopefully the caramel wouldn’t freeze though.
“Ok so let's remember to hit that cluster of checkpoints in the northern corner first. We're gonna take a lot of rights and then keep going on that long stretch forward.” I strategized.
“I’ll eat that apple if you’re not going to Phoeb, you know I’m psyched that they got pink ladies this year instead of grannies smiths.” Begged Sam.
“I did a few youth group trips to corn mazes, so this isn’t my first rodeo guys don’t worry!” Matrix added.
“That’s cool.” Phoebe said straight faced. I wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
Before I could respond, I saw it. I inhaled slowly as I took in the scene before us. The moon was thin and most of the lights were under the pavilion itself, but I felt like I should’ve noticed something so wrong before.
“Why is the all corn so fucking tall.” The question, er -- statement hung in the air for a few seconds while the maze came into view for everyone else. Corn stalks get surprisingly tall late in autumn, maybe like ten feet. This stuff though. It was like, way way way too tall. And not irregular. So, regular. The maze looked like it could have been a trimmed hedge. All the stalks stretched up and up, reaching out for the sky, each of them trying to escape from the ground. I suddenly was at a loss, something so ordinary was wrong in such an obvious way. Finally, Lottie broke our silence.
“Shit.” Great. I mean, she wasn’t wrong.
“That’s amazing. God is it this tall every year? That’s the tallest corn I’ve ever seen, must be 30 feet! Maybe more.” Finally Matrix had found something to be upbeat about.
“Ahh no man. It’s like normal usually. Lottie are you feeling alright? Do you want to take a sec before we head in.”
Matrix jumped in. “Nothing to be worried about. I’m sure it’s just like GMO’s or something. Gotta up the yield. They should seriously lead with that in the advertising though. Corn jungle! Towering Corn! Feast your eyes ladies and gentlemen on the worlds first corn metropolis!” He broke the spell on Lottie with his campy broadcaster voice. She joined in: “Keep your dame close as you delve into the mysterious corn caverns, where the CORN DRAGON DWELLS.”
Matrix Chuckled. “Well I don’t know about that. Hard to deliver on a corn dragon. But look I’m sure it’s fine, everyone else doesn’t seem to mind.” It was true, the usual fare of families and teen groups were venturing into the maze without concern. I watched the family from the parking lot get a safety flashlight from the teen working the entrance. I breathed in through my teeth.
“For a second I thought you actually made jokes, scooter. You’re right, it’s probably just a good year for tall corn. We can go.”
“Phoebster, you good?” Sam nudged me. It honestly took me a second longer than Lottie to take in all the explanations. It was such a weird thing to be off in such a significant way. Must have been some primal instinct of being afraid of the dark. The corn stalks were darker than the night sky around them; I tried to catch glimpses through the stalks but they blanketed out the stars.
“Yeah sorry about that guys. I’ll remember more of the strategy once we’re in the maze. Let’s blow through this thing!”
We went into the maze.
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Solid Ground
A scene in which Rae and Finn hang out and some stuff comes up.
Takes place a while after S2 and I’m not really concerned about S3.
Also posted on AO3.
Thanks, Lil, as always.
Rae and Finn were sitting on his bedroom floor, drinking beer and thumbing through music mags when Rae popped her head up, “Finn?” She tried to make her voice high, lilting, but was pretty sure she sounded harsh and halting. Had he just flinched a little? She was so fucking bad at nonchalant.
From the cadence of that one syllable, Finn could tell he was in for it. Rae often got these ideas of things to ask him which inevitably made him squirm, like whether he ever fancied a teacher or had ever secretly wanted to kiss Archie or how old he was when he’d had his first erection. It had always given him a small thrill, because even though the questions were awkward, he liked the way she made him talk and the way she listened. That’s how they’d built their together world, question by question, answer by answer, a head curled into the other’s lap or legs stretched parallel up onto the wall. More recently, however, her questions had become less fun and more about the other girls he’d dated. He braced himself.
“What did ya like best about going out with Stacey?”
The thought that Finn had been with every hot lass in Lincolnshire made Rae cringe. However, since knowing was better than imagining, she and her diary had launched Operation Desensitization, an attempt to gather as much information as possible, to rake her eyes over the truth and, in theory, neutralize it. But she was growing edgy with this business of sounding casual in the face of what he might say.
The question about Stacey made Finn uncomfortable, but he thought he could manage it. “Dunno…she had a nice house I guess. And I liked her dog.”
Rae rolled her eyes and looked at Finn like he had a screw loose, “Her house? Her dog? Right! Neither of those things are really about Stacey!”
“You asked what I liked about going out with Stacey not what I liked about her.” Finn squinted and shifted in front of her.
“What are we in English class?” Rae responded, exasperated. “Fine! What did you like about HER?” She was regretting her tone, but she couldn’t modulate. He didn’t deserve this attitude, but her head was tensing and something inside her was slipping off its hook.
She was getting worked up and quickly, but Finn still thought he could navigate this. “Not much…she’s not a nice person. I broke up with her when I saw how badly she treated people.” He watched Rae’s face for clues of a misstep.
“Did she treat you badly?” Rae asked with genuine interest.
“Nah, but girls, her mates and stuff. She’s just mean. And, like, so boring.”
“Hmmm,” Rae nodded, searching, “but you…you still had sex with her?”
Finn pulled his lips into a thin line and briefly closed his eyes; there was the familiar feeling of everything shifting and his control slipping away. Over the past few weeks, Rae seemed to be daring herself to ask more and more questions about his past experiences; how he’d met girls, what kind of dates they went on, what they talked about, but this was the most explicit she had been so far. Finn corkscrewed his mouth to one side and looked toward the window as he slowly nodded.
Rae mirrored the gesture. Her mind was regularly plagued by thoughts of Finn with all the girls he’d sexed before. The images came stacked and staticky: a tangle of toned limbs, his tongue grazing a flat stomach, his hands removing a normal sized bra, two people humping in closets that were too small for Rae alone. “You’ve had sex with a lot of girls.”
“Dunno…” was all Finn could muster as he started fidgeting with his ear. He hated the insecurity that led to these questions when it was the opposite of what he loved about her. But he also knew she was trying to work something out, and he recognized the bravery of that. He wanted to be holding her now, kissing her and reassuring her, but he knew better. In moments like this, his touch made her flinch.
Rae knew he’d been with other girls. Beyond his reputation, it was obvious from the way he behaved in bed, something confident and matter-of-fact. But this had been the first actual acknowledgement. The skin on her neck and face felt taut and twitchy. The realness of the moment was hard but satisfying and strangely liberating. When she glanced up at Finn, she realized he looked like someone trying to gentle a spider off a window ledge into a cup, anxious that it might get away or get a leg cut off by the rim. She was sympathetic but undeterred.
“I know you think I’m trying to trap you into saying something you don’t want to say… but please tell me what that was like with Stacey.”
Finn shook his head and furrowed his brow. “Nah…why d’ya want to know all that?” I don’t want to hear about you gettin’ off with some other bloke!” He really didn’t and shouldn’t she find that flattering?
Her mind tucked away the compliment to think about later while her mouth bulldozed ahead. “Alright, fine! But I do want to know. Tell me SOMETHING!”
She was speaking not just with her mouth but with her eyes and her hands too. If he could just kiss her right now, this would all be a lot easier. Finn was at a loss for words, but they were going to have to come soon if Rae’s penetrating look was any indication. He took a deep breath and moved his lips, “Yeah…ok…ah…ahh…I..ayay…arr…Rae! This is weird!”
Rae softened at Finn’s tongue-tied attempt and began to laugh. She hadn’t meant to make him so uncomfortable and it was sweet how earnestly he was trying. In an effort to lighten the mood, she threw a pillow at him, yelling, “Man UP, Finley! Tell me about Stacey Stringfellow’s snatch!”
Finn was laughing too now. But he knew that Rae relied on jokes when she felt vulnerable and he never liked that, so he tried to settle down.
And then Rae couldn’t wait any longer to ask the real question on her mind; she twisted a long strand of hair around her finger, not fully convinced she was ready to know this. “Is it different with me?”
Finn looked down and then up at her, almost guiltily “…yeah?”
“And I don’t mean cuz you luuuv me,” she goaded him, “I’m serious. I want to know how it’s different…like…logistically.”
Finn bit his lower lip, was this what it had all been about? Was she just comparing herself to those other girls? He was shit with words, but this he could answer. He knew what he wanted to say, but it took a long minute to pull his thoughts together. “Look,” he finally started, “I’m not gonna tell you I hated sleeping with Stacey, that would be stupid. But it’s different with you and not just ‘cuz I luuuv you’ and ‘awww we both love Oasis and Morissey’ and ‘Oh Rae really gets me,’ but… I mean…it feels different.”
Rae shook her head in disgust, “Right! Cuz I’m huge, and I smother you.”
“No, I’m not sayin’ that,” Finn was frustrated but caught her darting eyes with his and held them until she focused. “Yeah, your body’s different than anyone else I’ve ever been with. It’s bigger… and softer… and dead sexier.”
Finn raised his eyebrows to emphasize those last two words and they zinged down Rae’s spine. It was new to hear him tell her this so frankly. She knew she turned him on, but… then another thought broadcast across her mind. “Finn? It’s not BECAUSE I’m big that you like me is it?”
Finn let out a small laugh at the no-winningness of this conversation. “No, Rae, I can honestly say that I’d like you no matter what size you were. All I know is your body turns me on like nothin’ else and I dunno…it’s like some kinda bonus.” His eyes had wandered off but now returned her gaze. “Do you remember the first time we did it? That time in your new room?”
Rae looked at him like he’d asked if she knew her own name.
“Right, well after making me wait for months, when I was finally all up inside ya… it was so intense, like I could feel you everywhere at once…in my toes and my knees and my ears. I was kinda lost in ya.”
“Really.” She said as she started to feel the truth of his words.
“Really.” Finn confirmed as he offered one of his most heartbreaking smiles.
Rae felt a warmth in her core from her heart to her ovaries, but she also felt suddenly exposed. She covered by teasing him, “Yeah, I guess that was KINDA obvious, since you came within the first ten seconds!”
“Oi! Girl! We did it like three more times that night. You came like fifteen times!”
“Seven,” she corrected him.
“Ohh only seven? You poor lass,” Finn feigned sympathy. “Seriously though, not bad for our first go. You were…impressive.”
“Aww thanks,” Rae said only half joking, “I had a lot of practice. I’d really built up my stamina.”
Finn almost spit out his beer. She still amused the crap out of him. He zoned out as his thoughts went back to that night. He recalled how after hours of fumbling, she finally taught him how to touch her, how she had dazzled him then with her capacity for pleasure and her appetite for it. Girls had always been so timid with him about what they wanted, acted like they mostly wanted to take care of him. It was so much hotter to watch Rae take what she needed and use him for it. It had been a revelation.
Rae was preoccupied by her own memory, how she’d eschewed Finn’s many attempts to drag her on top of him and then surprised herself by suggesting she straddle his hand. She had probably surprised both of them when she stopped holding back, when she stretched out prone above his whole arm while riding his index and middle fingers, had moved greedily along his hand to slide those fingers out of her and up to her clit, had directed him to stiffen them and alternate pressure between them until she was spasming uncontrollably and he was left with a tiny heartbeat pulsing against his fingertips. And then she did it again…and again… until he was lunging at her lips to catch every moan before it escaped.
Rae was smiling to herself as she reminded him of the aftermath. “I was so sore the next day and you had so many love bites, you looked like you’d been in a fight with a blowfish.”
Finn was laughing now, “Yeah, and I had to hide from your mum in the bathtub.”
“It was some night,” Rae mused.
“Yeah it was,” he confirmed, looking down, eyes twinkling. “And I’m still lost in ya.”
Rae blushed at that, “Well let’s just say I’m not sending out any search parties.”
“Oh yeah?” Finn raised a cheeky eyebrow at her, “Not even a sexy one?”
Rae smiled wide and gave a coy tilt of her head as she nodded, “Ok… maybe a sexy one.”
When Finn saw her teeth as she smiled, he had another familiar feeling, a sweep of relief as the floor leveled and walls realigned. He was next to her in a flash, scooping up her hand and pressing his nose into her shoulder.
He spoke quietly into the crook of her neck, “Rae, that first time…it wasn’t just my feet and my ears, it was like something inside me, like in my head…it wasn’t just your body…it was like everything altogether, ya know?”
Rae wondered again how this kind, thoughtful and gentle soul had found her, but all she said was, “yeah, I think so.” And she meant it, which was a lot.
#my mad fat diary#mmfd fanfic#mmfd#finn and rae#rae and finn#thank you lil#lil's the best#fingers are good too
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Fanfic Game
This is a game the dorks played because they were bored.
Here is how it works: We choose a prompt and write something in five minutes, but only say what the last sentence of what we wrote was. Then, this happens.
Dork 2: This is extremely crack. We are both terrible.
Janus goes to therapy
Warnings: Alcohol, depression, swearing
D1 (Dork 1):
He watched helpless as the door closed behind her. Janus was pushed to put it simply. He decided to try therapy, yet it definitely was not what he expected. Now he sat in his therapists room after he had caused her to leave. This was fantastic. Sighing, he stood up from the somewhat comfortable couch, and walked out of the therapy office. He was glad he hadn't booked those extra appointments he thought about. He opened his car door and sat in the front seat. Taking a long sigh, he slammed his head into the steering wheel, causing a large honk. He was the only person that would end up in this situation. He had ended arguing with his therapist. "Fuck my life" he murmured to himself. It was a solid four minutes before he ended up, actually starting his car.
D2 (Dork 2):
The car started and he moved out of the mental asylum parking lot. The streets were empty and he could only hear his car on the road. He ended up seeing a liquor store and decided to get himself some nice fresh alcohol for the ride. His car, shitty as hell takes a few minutes for the car door to finally get open. Other people from the sidelines watch him like he is crazy trying to open his car door. He goes into the store and remembers he forgot his id and decides to just steal alcohol from the store. Glass bottles break and the cashier tries to stop him. Janus runs out of the store, getting back into the car. The car door flies away and Janus drives and drives. He doesn’t care anymore, and he can’t help but love being such a daredevil. He just wishes one day miss Crofter’s would love his sexy smile.
D1:
He just wishes one day Ms.Crofters would love his sexy smile. Maybe that would keep her from leaving his therapy appointment. Besides being extremely pissed, he was also sad. Sad that he, out of all people, caused his therapist, the person that was supposed to help him, leave. Maybe this proved that all his insecurities were correct, maybe putting on a facade was the right thing to do. Maybe acting stronger would be better than acting like he actually is under that shell. He wishes he could show the world that person. The person who just wants to make the world better and brighter for him and his friends. He laughed to himself, a small, hollow, sad laugh. It was ironic that he seemed to have two faces, just like his name. Wow he was pathetic, just like he thought. No one wants to be around him, not his friends, not his therapist, not himself.
D2:
He sits on the edge of the road, questioning his humanity. Was it really the right thing to do? Getting to please everyone around him isn’t helping him. He may be tough and strong, but it isn’t enough. He just wants someone to care for him but nothing ever works. He sips the last drop of his whisky and throws it to the road watching as glass shatters everywhere in the black night. He starts to wander around more, thinking about kites and kittens until he walks back up to miss crofters office. He doesn’t know why he is here, but he is. Janus sees her face again, and miss crofters can obviously tell he isn’t doing too good. Miss crofters can’t help but give him a hug to make the pain go away.
The server Virgil needs
Warnings: swearing, mentioned death, anxiety, food
D2:
It was just for one night. Virgil was not ready to go to this party, but Logan insisted since he needed his daily dose of socialization every once in a while, or all the time. He looks at the front door, preparing himself for what to come and opens the door. Music blasts in his ears, the floor literally vibrating. Virgil does his classic “put hood over head to avoid talking to people”. Then, he decided to go into the next room he saw, where there might not be too many people. The door creaks open to even more noise than before and to shock he actually sees people he knows. Roman, the big boy is hanging from the chandelier, acting like he is flying like a crazy person. He turns over to see Remus the crackhead, trying to shoot him like he is bird. What the fuck is going on???
D1:
Virgil just wanted to go to his friend's house, not have this. Staring at his friends house, Virgil felt his breathing hitch. Why was their loud music and speakers? Why the fuck were there decorations? And why the fuck did he honestly have to be here. Virgil thought about a few way to get out of this situation. He could leave, like honestly just walk back to his house, his mom would be confused but it would be a way out. He die, just curl right there in the grass and suffocate. He could stand in the road in wait for impeanding doom. Maybe find Patton and get hugged to death. Anything but go inside. Wasn't there a neighborhood lake, he could drown in.
D2:
Wasn’t there a neighborhood lake he could drown in? He leans back in one of the folding chairs and looks up at the stars. Why did he have to be here right now? The smell of fire from the grill fills the outside, and Virgil really wants a taste but he doesn’t feel like talking to anyone else to get it. Logan appears before him and gives him a plate of an assortment of different barbecue type foods, burgers, hot dogs, etc. Virgil, forced to take the plate from Logan decides to start taking bites off his food.
“I can’t let you sit here and starve Virgil,” Logan says, staring to eat off his own plate as well. Virgil thanks the heavens that Logan is able to be his server tonight.
D1:
Virgil thanks the heavens Logan was able to be his server tonight. Logan sat next Virgil on the grass. The sun was just starting to set. The Ray's washing over both of them. Virgil really wasn't interested in the food. He was just enjoying the sunset, and his friends presence. It was a weird day, not normal really at all, but hey it ended alright. That's all that mattered, right?
S’mores prank
Warnings: food, fire, briefly mentioned bugs, swearing
D1:
The fire was getting closer. Virgil hissed at the large orange flames in the fire pit, not enjoying how warm they made him while he was already wearing a hoodie. "Virge, that's not gonna make them go away," Patton said before shoving another marshmallow in his mouth. "Patton, we conquered those marshmallows for s'mores. If you eat all of them we won't be able to make s’mores." Logan said from his seat on a log next to Roman. "Come on Lo stop being a sorry sport, we can always conquer more!" Roman said, throwing a marshmallow into the flames. The sides had decided to go camping in the mind palace, well Roman decided he wanted to go camping and dragged them along. And Virgil was hating every second of it. He had to sleep on the ground, in a clostraphoic tent, and was surrounded by bugs. This was a shit situation for the emo side, and he was gonna make it hell for Roman.
D2:
Virgil started to work on his new deviant plan, ready to get at Roman. Roman has been pranking him for all these years and this time he is going to pay for it with good old sweet karma. He goes over and starts messing with the s’mores, putting his own ‘special’ ingredients to the mix. Some nice laxatives, and oh boy was this gonna be fun watching Roman suffer. Roman is laughing as the fire grew bigger, asking for a nice treat to have with the fire. Virgil couldn’t help but smile at what was about to happen next.
D1:
Virgil couldn't help but smile at what was about to happen next. Everything was about to fall in place, a perfect picture plan, Roman would never cross Virgil like this again. "Ahh, I'm gonna turn in for the night guys." Patton exclaimed with a yawn. "Padre, you're gonna go to sleep this early? Come on you should stay," Roman said. Logan stood up, "actually Patton is right, we can continue this 'bonding exercise' tomorrow, we should all go to sleep so Thomas can be in top conditions tomorrow." Logan and Patton then started walking to their tents. "Well Emo nightmare, we should go to sleep then, God knows you won't get it though," Roman said standing. "Wait!" Virgil yelled, the other sides turning to see why he just screamed.
D2:
He didn’t want Patton or anyone else to get hurt, only Roman because Roman is a piece of shit.
“Don’t eat those.” Virgil tells Logan and Patton.
Patton looks gloomy, wanting a satisfying taste of s’mores.
Patton looks back at Virgil, upset. “Why can’t we? Roman is shoving those into his face right now.”
Virgil knows they won’t listen if he tells them what is really going on.
“I may have... uh...” Virgil can’t help but feel guilty, but his plan has already worked. Roman is shoving the s’mores into his face right now.
“I put laxatives into the s’mores...”
Guns and sushi
Warnings: Guns, food, Remus, knives, dead bodies, people tied up, blood, fist fighting, theft
D2:
Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind, but with a gun against his head. “Buttt whyyyy???? I just want to play with some of the dead bodies out in the back!!!” Remus says with a bratty tone. He seems really upset, and Patton can’t help but feel disgusted. How the heck did he get here, with Janus and Remus?! He tries to get his way through the ropes but nothing works. This is Janus’ and Remus’ specialty. He may know Janus a little bit more now, but this is really the only way to get Remus to stop acting like a lunatic. Remus breaks open from his own handcuffs after being at gunpoint from yours truly, Janus. Janus puts the gun down and turns over to look at Patton, and Remus can’t help but giggle from the sidelines.
D1:
"What are we gonna do now?" Patton sighed. "I honestly don't have a clue." Janus looked at Remus for a second before looking back at Patton, "we could leave him here and just leave, get some food, oh maybe Chinese?" Patton thought about it for a second, "fine, but make it Sushi. It could care less for Chinese right now." Janus nodded and the two walked out the door of the grimy warehouse. Just before they both got in the car though, Patton tugged open a window. "Come one we can't leave him locked in there!" Janus sighed, "fine, but get in, I'm hungry."
D2:
Remus slips a certain something from under his shoe and in such a way Janus would never notice. It was a pocket knife. Janus and Remus walk away from the large cage, leaving Patton alone, in complete darkness and he could barely see anything. Guess they weren’t going to stay after all. Patton gets the knife in his hands tied around his back and starts cutting. They are very thick ropes, but at this point he just wants to get home and see everyone again. He manages to cut and he is released. Patton is happy that Remus left the cage door open, but what are really his intentions? Remus doesn’t do these types of favors without any motive behind it.
D1:
Remus invaded the kitchen like a warrior on a battlefield. He was here to make sure Patton got the noodles he wanted, and Remus might treat himself as well. The chefs and servers were all confused, telling him to leave and get out of the kitchen. Remus smiled, Patton was gonna get his noodles. It's safe to say no one left that kitchen without a bloody nose. Remus had really taken a beating to everyone there. Once everyone was out cold though, Remus snooped around the kitchen before seeing it. On top of the stove, was a large pot of noodles, exactly what Patton wanted. Grabbing the pot, and something else Remus ran back to the main restaurant, and to the side of a disappointed Remus and Patton. "So you robbed the place of there noodles and ice cream?" Janus asked. "Yup!" Remus exclaimed, licking a popsicle.
“Do you love me?”
Warnings: sexual intentions, kissing
D1:
The footsteps were moving away. Roman let out a heavy sigh. They couldn't be caught, not now. They had been doing this for weeks but still every sound made them pause, every foot step made them step away from each other, and every word that wasn't one of there’s ruined the mood. It was upsetting but the safest thing to do, if they were caught...it would never happen again. It was a strange idea, logic and creativity being together. Wanting each other. Not feeling complete without one another. But they did. So when the lights turned off, and the others went to sleep, Roman sneaked in,to Logan's room to feel complete. To have his other half. "We can't keep doing this," Logan said. Roman sighed, it was true. It was painful every time a kiss was broken by footsteps. "Than what do we do?" He asked. "Tell them," Logan said. "Lo, we can't, they won't" Logan brought up a hand to cup Roman's cheek.
D2:
“Ooh? Wow Logan I didn’t know you liked this type of thing.” Roman places his hands around Logan’s waist.
“Well, passionate kissing can burn between 2 and 26 calories a minute, and also can reduce stress. This can be extremely beneficial to both of our health.”
Roman looks at Logan almost like his face is trying to make a sigh but he can’t.
“Ugh please don’t start Logan.”
To get Logan to not talk anymore, he pushes him up against the wall, Roman presses his lips against Logan’s. Logan, wanting to talk more about health benefits finally decides to give in, letting the kisses get more passionate than before. Eventually, Roman decides to slip his hand between Logan’s thighs.
D1:
"Roman we can't-" "Logan you love me." Logan looked at Roman wide eyed. Logan wasn't good with emotions, but he knew love was strong. It wasn't a word you threw around, you had to be certain. And Logan didn't know how to Express what he had with Roman. It was strong, yet fragile. It made him feel confident. And he wanted more moments with Roman. Hell, he wanted every moment to be with Roman. Log a finally broke the silence, "do you love me?" Roman paused for the smallest of seconds, "yes." Logan pushed Roman away from him "Then tell them, about us. I can't handle keeping this a secret Roman, we need to tell them."
D2:
Roman looks down at the ground, trying to find an excuse but can’t manage to make one.
“Why do relationships need to be so hard???” Roman more upset than ever, holds Logan close.
“All we need to do is tell them. I mean think about it, we all know Patton and Virgil are a thing.” Logan says.
“Wait, what?! How couldn’t you tell me this info sooner?!”
Logan, realizing his clothes are a lot more of a mess than before.
“Roman, do you have some missing brain cells or are you just clueless?” Roman totally offended snaps back.
“I’m not oblivious! At least I’m not the one reciting lines from the last article you read about kissing! Don’t tell me that isn’t odd!”
Logan can’t help but feel embarrassed.
A soulmate AU?
Warnings: Food, condoms
D1:
He couldn't believe it. Was it really him? Roman stared across the small library at the man behind the counter. He was tall, with brown hair and glasses, along with wearing a tie and dress shirt. On his neck was a simple tattoo, taking the form of a dragon sitting atop a pile of books. The same tattoo that Roman had on his left hip. He couldn't believe, Roman was staring at his soulmate. All his life he had dreamed of meeting his soulmate. Someone who was perfect for him in every way, someone to love him every second. And now he was a few isles away from them. What was he supposed to do? Run up and randomly kiss them? No that would be weird.
D2:
Logan walked over to one of the bookshelves and grabbed a book. Roman couldn’t get the courage to do it. On his way to one of the tables to get a close look at Logan, he sees something under the table.
“What the...” Roman mumbles.
A lady behind him notices as well, and screeches.
“IS THAT A USED CONDOM?!” The lady runs away and Roman looks at it in horror. Logan turns over and walks over to Roman, startled when he looks under the table like everyone else in the room. People start discussing what to do with it while Roman and Logan stare intensely at the used condom.
“Disgusting... in a public library...” Logan says.
D1:
"That's… gross," Roman said, before his eyes trailed back to Logan. "Um, I actually came over here to ask you something." Logan looked at Roman curious, "and what would that be?" Roman took a second to try to form a response, just screaming out 'I'm your soulmate' would probably confuse him, and he honestly wanted this first meeting to go well. "Here, showing you would be better," with that Roman took his shirt off, turning so that Logan could see his left side. Logan, who at first was very confused, stared at the large dragon tattoo on Roman's side. Roman turned back around to look at Logan. "Seems we might be soulmates."
D2:
“Roman. Let’s go somewhere together.” Logan takes Romans’ hand and leaves the library. Roman can’t help but blush when Logan holds his hand like this. Then, Logan stops suddenly. They both look up to see the most beautiful thing in the world, the greatest ice cream shop that sells beans with ice cream and other things. Logan and Roman run towards the ice cream shop, skipping along the way there.
“Let’s get some ice cream with beans,” Logan says, “they help oxygen flow through your body.” Logan keeps pulling Roman towards the ice cream shop and they enter.
“You look like two happy donkays if I do say so myself,” the cashier says. “What would you donkays like to get today?”
“Oooh oooh can I get some BEANS?!” Roman yells.
“Sure thing donkay! All the donkays get bean ice cream today!”
The donkays scream yay at getting the taste of some nice bean ice cream.
Patton’s secret
Warnings: Alcohol, implied sexual content, swearing, Remus, first fighting, injuries
D2:
He sat him down and held him close before telling him the horrible news.
“Patton, I—“ Virgil is shushed.
“Shh, I’m enjoying this moment between us together.” Patton holds Virgil tighter.
“I feel like there is something I don’t know about...” Virgil stops looking at Patton, extremely angstily. “Patton, please tell me what is going on, I need to know.”
“I don’t know if I should tell you, it is really bad...” Patton whispers.
“It’s okay, I’ll help you in any way I can.” Virgil shows a smile, and the only smile he has given all night.
“I—“ Patton stops himself from speaking, he can’t bring himself to say it.
“Please, I love you so much Patton and I care about you.”
Patton sighs. “I’m pregnant.”
“W-what?! How the heck are you pregnant?” Virgil yells.
D1:
"Wha- what how the heck are you pregnant?" Virgil yells. Patton winced at the sound, no this isn't what he wanted he really didn't want Virgil angry. "I-I'm sorry Virge, I was drunk and not thinking, please I love you I promise!" Virgil was shocked how the fuck was he suppose to deal with this?! He was very aware Patton was trans, but they weren't at a comfortable point in their relationship to do anything. They had only been together for a month or two. "Pat, I-I…" Virgil didn't know what to say. Was he ready to be a father? We Patton ready to be a father? He could feel his breathing quicken, the world seemed to blur. "Virge? Virge, breathe for me please." "Y-you cheated on me and got pregnant?!"
D2:
“How could you just have a one night stand with some random person?! Do you even care?!” Virgil stands his ground, flaming with rage.
“I’m done and we are OVER. There is no excuse!” Virgil leaves the room to find a way to release the steam. Why did Patton do this to him? He runs outside and sits against the wall, and he can’t help but cry.
He hears footsteps expecting Patton, but it turns out to be a familiar face.
“Remus...”
Virgil gets up and backs slightly away.
“Hey there Vergy! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Must say that was quite a show in there.” Remus giggles at the drama and entertainment.
“You have something to do with this, don’t you Remus?” Virgil says.
D1:
"You have something to do with, don't you Remus." Virgil said. Remus looked offended "Virgil, drawing random conclusions-" "BULLSHIT!" Virgil yelled. "You can fucking stop the act, you fucked Patton, without protection and this kid is yours!" Remus smirked, sickly sweet, "you say it like he didn't consent." Virgil stared at him, pissed. "You fucking knew me and Patton were in a relationship you sick fuck!" With that the first punch was thrown. Remus looked startled, holding his now very bruised jaw. "It's not all my fucking fault!" Remus said hitting back.
The fight didn't last long, though it ended with both of them majorly bruised. Remus had left, bruised and hurt, leaving a very confused Virgil standing alone on the sidewalk.
#sander sides#sandersides#remus sanders#deceit sanders#janus sanders#virgil sanders#patton sanders#roman sanders#logan sanders#logince#moxiety#intrucality#soulmate au#human au#roman x logan#logan x roman#remus x patton#patton x remus#patton x virgil#virgil x patton#fanfiction#fanfic#sandersides fanfiction#sandersides fanfic#sander sides fanfiction#sander sides fanfic#crack fic#crack post#ts roman#ts patton
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Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 46)
Description: The captive Catalysts struggle to keep it together. Tahira fights a battle of her own. Meanwhile, Zahra receives a break in the case.
Tagging: @endlesshero1122 @mysteli @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @feartheendlesssummer @whatmcsaid @tigerbryn11
Jake
I don't know exactly what to expect after I feel the wheels touch down and the plane slows to a halt. I guess I'm not surprised when the armored goons who stomp into the bathroom gag us and shove our heads into dark flannel pillowcases before dragging us upright. Makes sense that they don't want us to know where we are—or call out to anyone who might be passing. But that doesn't mean I'm not keeping alert. The landing was rough. Rougher than I would have expected on a sky-worthy private jet. The angle we landed at was steeper than expected, too.
The staircase getting us down is narrow. So narrow that my armored escorts have to move into file ahead and behind me, and I can feel the handrails on either side if I just lean one way or the other a couple inches. The goon ahead of me must be taking the steps backward, because there's something sharp pressed to the soft flesh just under my sternum, just hard enough for me to feel its point. There's also what's unmistakeably the barrel of a pistol at the nape of my neck. They don't say anything. They don't have to. The warning is clear: don't try any shit.
After the bottom step, I set my food down on a surface that doesn't feel like tarmac or asphalt. It's soft. Dirt. Or grass. Explains the steep-angled landing—and it tells me that the plane transporting us has to be smaller than I was originally imagining. The air on my exposed skin is warm. Humid. Unfortunately, I can't notice any distinct smell to it. There's not much penetrating whatever fruit-scented detergent this pillowcase was washed in before my head was jammed into it. ...Which is either coincidence, and whatever pillowcases they grabbed before starting just happened to come straight from the wash...or there's actually a distinctive smell to this place that they're purposely hiding.
Wherever the plane landed, it isn't far from where they plan to hold us. It's only about ten minutes of being shoved along before I hear a door creak and the heat and humidity is replaced by the sudden icy chill of air conditioning turned on full-blast. I lose track of myself for a moment, but before long, I'm shoved hard from behind. My knees buckle under the assault and connect sharply with a cold concrete floor.
I'm almost surprised when I hear a key click, and the cuffs fall from my wrists. I immediately yank the pillowcase off my head and go for the gag at my mouth, but by the time I've gotten both off and oriented myself, I realize that Sean, Michelle, and I have been locked inside what appears to be an industrial tool cage in a warehouse somewhere, lit by a single lightbulb directly above us—and the goons who dragged us in here are all on the other side of the bars. They don't seem to be leaving immediately, so I stand and turn slowly to face them, glaring.
“Where is your boss?” I growl. “I have a couple questions for him.”
“Yeah, Wolf. Kinda figured you would.” Lundgren's voice hits me like a fist in my gut. He appears first as the cherry-red tip of his cigar gleaming in the dim light beyond the cage before emerging where I can see him. He pulls the cigar from between his teeth and blows a pungent cloud in my direction. I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to cough.
“Where are Mike and my wife, you piece of shit?”
“Darwin's around. Behave yourself, and maybe I'll let him say goodbye before I beat your brains out.”
“What the fuck is this, Lundgren?”
“What the fuck do you think it is? It's revenge. Everything you boys did to me, you think I haven't been dreaming of this moment for the last five years?”
“You got what you deserved, you rat bastard!” I snarl.
“And you'll get yours soon enough, Wolf. I can guarantee that.”
I step up to the barrier between us, the fence of thick wire. I grip at the links, locking eyes with Lundgren.
“I know you aren't in this alone, Lundgren. You died and left a body behind same as Rourke, but that wasn't you. That wasn't the you that's here right now. You're not nearly smart enough to pull that stunt on your own. I know Jeanine was the one who took my wife. So I gotta figure you're both back in Rourke's pocket.” I lean forward slightly, my voice low. “Where is she, Lundgren? Where is my wife?”
“Ahh, right. Alodia. Cute little blonde cunt. Pretty face hides a goddamn superweapon living in a devious bitch. Rourke's beautiful 'mystery,' the key to everything. I'm impressed you managed to knock her up. She looks human enough, but I wouldn't have been surprised to find her kind had crystal teeth down there.” He takes a long drag on his cigar and exhales luxuriously before grinning at me. “Don't worry, Wolf. You'll see her again. I want you to have a front row seat when Rourke cuts the brat out of her. ...I want to watch you watch her die.”
The rage that surges through me is white-hot and blinding, and it swallows my conscious self. I can hear myself screaming, an animalistic howl as I rattle the bars with all my strength, beating the sides of my fists against the metal frame of the locked door. I throw my whole weight into the door again and again until something drags me off, holds me back, pins my arms to my side.
“Easy!” Sean hisses in my ear, holding me firmly. “You're gonna hurt yourself more than him like that!”
I slowly settle, my breath quivering. He's right. As my rage cools to a controlled simmer, I can feel the throbbing at various points where I connected with a metal support pole or the door frame. When he's satisfied that I'm in control, Sean releases me, though he keeps his hands steadyingly on my shoulders. I raise my head to find Lundgren grinning like a kid who's found the cookie jar.
“Thing is...you and Mouse are the only ones Rourke promised me. He might have plans for the lovebirds in there, but I doubt they're gonna be anything but leverage to keep your baby mama in line. And he might not need 'em at all. Maybe I should check. ...Maybe he'll let me kill 'em in front of you as a warm up.”
“You put us in a room together, asshat,” I snarl. “That means you'll have to fight me to get to my friends.”
He shrugs. “That sounds like it could be fun.” Without another word, he turns and marches out of the room, leaving four armored goons standing guard with rifles ready.
There are tears coming to my eyes. I scrub at them furiously with my forearm as I pull away from Sean and look around desperately for something to kick or punch in this room. The only thing here is a metal bucket. Probably our piss bucket, but it's empty at the moment, so I kick it viciously into the wire wall, making the cage rattle. Then I sink to my knees.
“...Rourke isn't going to kill Alodia,” Michelle says softly.
“Damn straight, he's not!” I growl through my tears. “I won't let him. I'll find a way to get to her. I'll protect her.”
“Of course. But I actually meant that I don't think killing her is in his plans.”
“You don't?” Sean asks.
“Think about it. Sure, Lundgren's out for revenge, but from everything we know, isn't it more likely that Rourke's going to try to restart Project Janus? We don't know exactly what kind of power Alodia has in her current incarnation, but I find it hard to believe he's just going to kill her when she's probably more useful to him alive.”
“That doesn't exactly make it all better,” I mutter. “Alive is better than dead, but it doesn't mean she's not suffering right now. And River...and Mike...”
Sean kneels to put a hand on my shoulder. “...Jake's right, Michelle. We gotta find a way out of here, ASAP.”
Bernadette McKenzie
The local time is about 5:30am when the plane from Louisiana touches down in California. The flight is virtually empty. Frank and I meet our daughter at the baggage carousel with fierce hugs, collect our meager luggage, and pile into her car to make the trip to Laguna Beach.
“How was the flight?” Rebecca asks.
“Smooth,” I reply softly. “No troubles.”
“What's the latest news on your brother?” Frank asks.
“They've got various coast guard ships scouring the Caribbean for the yacht he took off on. Apparently, he made it to La Huerta and he and his friends set sail from there okay, but then the signal got lost about an hour north of there.”
“...What about Alodia and her friend?”
“...Everyone's looking into ambulances that have been reported missing in California in recent weeks. There are a couple promising VINs, but there's always a possibility that the license plates were switched.” Rebecca shakes her head. “...I think we're dealing with pros here, Mom. ...No one really looks at an ambulance speeding by with its lights on. No one wants to delay them in case there's a real medical emergency they're dealing with. Procuring one wouldn't have been easy, but once they had one, it was the perfect way to transport captives.”
“I don't understand,” Frank murmurs. “I don't understand why. Why Jake? Why his partner? Why their friends? And why all at once like this? Did they really think none of them would be missed? Or are they trying to send some kind of message?”
“I don't think the why matters, Frank,” I say softly. “...I just want my boy back. I want him back, and his partner, and our little granddaughter, and all their friends.”
“That's all I want, too,” Frank assures me. “...But I also want to know why.”
* * *
The house in Laguna Beach is unlike anything I've ever seen in person before. Under normal circumstances, I would be intimidated—even put off—by the obvious wealth put into such a place. But not today. Today, I don't see the house as containing folks with millions of dollars more than me. Today, I see it as the house containing scared parents—or legal guardians as the case may be, but the point stands. In this gleaming mansion are the frightened family of the woman my son loves—the people who raised the mother of my unborn granddaughter.
Rebecca lets us in. Apparently, they gave her a key, at least while she's staying here with them. The house is quiet, though there are faint sounds coming from a room near the back. We drop our bags in the front hall and Rebecca shows us where to hang our jackets before we make our way through the lower level of the house, following the sounds to a rec room. The light from a massive, wall-mounted television flickers across the floor as a news channel with a droning newscaster plays at a volume I would consider slightly too loud. A woman in a bathrobe lies motionless on the pristine French-style sofa, the screen reflecting in her sapphire-blue eyes. I know immediately who she is. She looks so very much like her niece.
“...Molly Fisher?” I venture, hoping I remembered her name correctly. She looks up at me with weary eyes. I think I can see her summoning the will to greet us. I hold up a hand. “...No need to get up. We're all in the same boat here. ...I'm Bernadette MacKenzie. This is my husband, Frank. ...We're Jake's parents.”
“...And grandparents to my niece's child,” Molly murmurs with a sigh. “...The only living grandparents that little girl has.”
“--Next up, an unusual and alarming string of suspected kidnappings involving a pregnant woman, a best-selling author, two former Navy pilots, an NFL quarterback, and his new wife.” The news segment captures everyone's attention as it starts up. “28-year-old Alodia Chandler of Laguna Beach, California; as well as her housemate and long-time friend Diego Soto, also 28, both went missing yesterday afternoon within hours of each other. Mr. Soto and Ms. Chandler—who is currently 36 weeks pregnant—intended to meet for lunch in Riverside, where they both grew up, and where Ms. Chandler is working as a dance teacher, but they never made it to their rendezvous. Around the same time, Ms. Chandler's partner, 33-year-old Jacob MacKenzie, as well as their three friends, Michael Darwin, aged 32; Sean Gayle, aged 28; and Michelle Nguyen Gayle, aged 28, were all reported missing in the vicinity of the Caribbean islands. Now, details are still emerging on all of these disappearances, but it does appear that Mr. Darwin and Mr. MacKenzie were escorting Mr. and Mrs. Gayle off the island of La Huerta, where they had spent part of their honeymoon. All six victims were part of the infamous Vacation Gone Wrong in 2017, involving La Huerta and the island's owner at the time, Everett Rourke Senior. Police have stated that the close connection between the victims does suggest a personal motive. They have also stated that the disappearances were almost certainly orchestrated by a large, and very organized group. They are asking for the public's help in locating the victims. Any information anyone can provide will be greatly appreci--”
“I hate the language they use,” Molly whispers. “'Suggest a personal motive'. As if it isn't obvious to anyone with half a damn brain.”
She slowly sits up, letting her slippered feet meet the floor. She makes a vague gesture towards the armchairs with one hand, nodding. No one needs a translation. Frank and I both sit down.
“...I'm glad you're letting us stay here while this is sorted out,” I tell her. “It's so much easier to have support at a time like this. People outside of yourselves who understand what you're going through. ...I wish we had known each other five years ago.”
Molly's lips quiver just a little before she draws them tightly together, but I can't help seeing the sparkle of tears in her eyes, even as she ducks her head.
“...I'm scared it will be like last time,” she confesses hoarsely. “...That everyone will come back except Alodia. Everyone will get their kids back except me. ...I never even wanted kids. But she was my little sister's baby. Cassie was gone so damn fast and I...I couldn't just...”
“...Of course you couldn't.”
Molly looks up at me. “...She was a good kid. High-spirited. Rob and I just weren't ready, no matter how much I wanted to keep that piece of my sister. I thought if we hired a nanny, I could have my cake and eat it, too. Keep Cassie's kid around without having to really parent her. In so many ways it worked. ...I never really had to answer the hard questions about who her parents were, because she mostly didn't ask them. I don't think she trusted me enough. I got to spoil and indulge her and dress her up like a little doll and feel proud of her accomplishments when I knew what they were...but she figured it all out. She's smart. She knew we weren't great parents. She knew we couldn't really handle her. She got to be a teenager...she got rebellious...by the time she went to college, it was like she was just a tenant in a boarding house who came to stay with us over summer, Christmas, and sometimes a week or two in the spring...”
“No one's teenage years are easy to parent through,” Frank says soothingly. Molly gives a short, bitter bark of laughter.
“But we didn't parent! That's my point! We punished when she broke our rules and ignored her when she wasn't making trouble. ...We lost her for five years, and we swore we'd do better with our second chance, but it's all been the same shit! We throw our money at her, buy her expensive gifts, but we don't know what's really going on! We've never asked her about how her pregnancy is going. We only know she's having a girl because Jake told Rob at work after they found out! We didn't think to ask. We've never thought to tell how proud she's made us or how much of a wonderful person we think she is or how much we lo-love her...!” She gulps and lets out a sob, covering her face with her hands. “...I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pouring my regrets out onto complete strangers who are guests here...”
“Oh, shah!” I can't help myself. I go over to the couch and sit down beside Molly, drawing her into my arms. “We're not strangers here. We're mothers. Mothers and fathers. Now, don't argue. You're that girl's mother, no matter who gave birth to her. Every mother has regrets. I'm not here to judge you for what you could have done better. I'm here because right now, we don't know where our kids are, and we're scared out of our heads.”
It takes a moment, but Molly melts into my embrace, winding her arms around me like a child with a teddy bear.
“I can't do this again!” she sobs piteously. “God, how can I do this again?!”
Alodia
The small portion of the sky that I can see from the bed is still dusky when I'm wrenched from my sleep by a loud noise. Vague images from my dreams—a plastic doll swaddled in my arms, a brightly lit stage wooden stage, the darkness beyond the polished lip, and the dark, narrow staircase that impeded my path up to the stage where I was supposed to be dancing--linger in a cloud on top of my brain, the fog pierced by footsteps, and finally by hands that yank the blankets back and drag me upright by my arms. My baby twists in my womb, no doubt agitated about being suddenly jostled. When Diego yelps, I finally come fully awake.
Arachnid goons have us both by the arms, and we're being dragged to opposite sides of the room while Fiddler stands in the center of the bare wooden floor, looking between us with a smug, predatory smile.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I manage to croak.
“I intend to make sure you remember who is in charge here, my little blonde brat. Don't think no one noticed that you puked on one of my friends last night.”
“I was motion-sick,” I protest. Even as I do, I realize that she probably doesn't really care. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that what's happening right now is a power play, nothing more or less. The problem is that I have a sinking feeling that I know how she plans to assert her authority. “It wasn't something I did on purpose.”
“You're probably telling the truth,” she concedes. “But, it was still nasty and smelly. And in the event that you're lying and you did do it on purpose...”
Before I can react, she whips around and drives her closed fist into Diego's gut. His knees buckle as he doubles over in pain, coughing. The Arachnid goons hold him upright as I struggle against my own captors, crying out angrily. Fiddler crosses the room and grabs my chin, pressing the walls of my cheeks into my teeth.
“That's me going easy on you,” she hisses, bringing her face close to mine. “If you don't do everything I tell you to do, I'll go harder. Understand?”
I can't really talk with her fingers squeezing my face, but I nod as much as I can. This seems to satisfy her, because she releases my jaw.
“Good girl. Now, you and me are gonna go downstairs. You try fighting me on it, I'll give your buddy a beating he won't forget.”
I'm not going to fight her. I don't have it in me to test her right now. The Arachnid soldiers holding Diego let go of him and he sinks to his knees, clearly trying to swallow a grimace as he looks up to meet my eyes. I can't think of anything reassuring to say. My vision blurs with tears as I turn and move dazedly toward the door.
I'm quiet on the stairs, concentrating on taking each step without falling. I'm not blindfolded this time, but late pregnancy has me prone to weakness and dizzy spells, even without the added stress of being goddamn kidnapped by someone I watched die five years ago.
The downstairs of this cottage or cabin or whatever is just as sparse as the room at the top of the stairs. The curtains over all the windows are heavy and drawn, no doubt to keep us from seeing out—and possibly to keep anyone else from looking in. But what I find myself really fixating on is how clean everything is. Like someone swept and scrubbed in anticipation of our arrival. That feeling is only compounded when it turns out that Fiddler is leading me into a rustic but pristine bathroom where hot, clear water is flowing out of a polished tap and crashing into a clawfoot tub. Steam rises off the surface of the water, nearly halfway up the tub. A washcloth and towel hang on the bar beside the vanity. A pair of gray sweatpants and sweatshirt sit neatly folded on the closed lid of the toilet, along with a pair of cotton panties and plain white socks.
I can't stop a faint, “What the fuck...?” from passing my lips. Fiddler snorts.
“Are you blind? It's a bath, blodie. A healthy fucking bath, heated to 98 degress.” She goes to turn off the tap. “And a change of clothes. I told you my employer wants you and your parasite healthy.”
“...You can say 'Rourke',” I mutter. “We all know who's greasing your palm. ...Am I going to be permitted some privacy?”
Fiddler snorts. “And risk you trying something stupid? I don't think so.”
I roll my eyes. “What exactly do you expect me to do? Climb out the window with this belly? You think I'm just going to abandon Diego?”
She shrugs, but she doesn't move, nor does she attempt to argue her point. She doesn't have to. She's got the power here, and she knows it. I sigh and start to undress. I'm still wearing the sweat jacket and unitard that I left the studio in yesterday. I peel them off and fold everything neatly and deliberately before stepping carefully into the tub and lowering myself into the water.
I can't deny that the water feels amazing. But the fact that it feels good only serves to upset me more when I remember that I'm a prisoner here. I find the soap in a dish beside the tub and start to scrub resentfully.
“...This isn't going to end how you want it to end,” I inform her flatly.
“Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better,” she replies, which I might have expected.
“My baby will not be born in captivity. ...This isn't La Huerta, Fiddler. This isn't Rourke's territory. We're not isolated on an island while the rest of the world is burning.” I turn a sidelong gaze on her. “And my husband is still out there. Do you really think he's going to rest before I'm home safe?”
The slow way she smiles makes my blood freeze. When she speaks, her voice is a purr. “Oh, I was so hoping you would bring him up. I absolutely wanted you to find out this way.”
My heart drops like a stone, splashing into something icy in my stomach. “...Wh-what are you talking about...?” I ask, my voice thin and breathless.
“Rex Lundgren's got Wolf now. Oh, don't panic. I can pretty well guarantee he's not dead yet. No, it's too soon. And I'm pretty sure he and Rourke want to make sure you see it when he does die. But he probably isn't having a whole lot of fun right now.”
The soap slips from my numb hands as I grip the edges of the bathtub, struggling to breathe. I stare into the rippling water between my bended knees. On the edges of my vision, my submerged thighs are a strange shade of gray, starkly contrasting the pink kneecaps that peak up above the surface like islands. My panicked thoughts chase each other through the storm in my head, tackling, wrestling each other for dominance.
Jake...oh, god, Jake...He isn't dead! He can't be dead. Even Fiddler says he isn't dead...Yet'! Not dead 'yet'!...And he might be suffering...he might be in pain...
“...Why...?” I whisper. Fiddler rolls her eyes.
“Jesus, do you really have to ask?” she sneers. “You said it yourself. He'd only be getting in our way if we left him to his own devices.”
I glare at her, feeling my expression twist into something ugly with sorrow and anger. “Why do you hate him so much?” I snarl. “Did he dump you or something?”
Fiddler raises an eyebrow. “Now why would you assume that?” she sounds irritated.
Her question actually catches me off guard, but only for an instant. Just enough that I can get the tears under control. I fish the soap from the water and rub it between my palms. “Your hatred is clearly more than professional. It's personal. You were glad to turn him and Mike in all those years ago.”
“I was thrilled,” she agrees. “But why do you assume it's because we were lovers? Because I'm a woman, any hatred I have for a man has to be because he scorned me?”
That actually gives me pause for a moment. “...I just can't imagine Jake doing anything else that could possibly explain why you hate him so much.”
“Of course not,” she scoffs. “You're his perfect 'princess', and he's your dashing goddamn rogue hero. You're a fucking fairy tale, and neither of you will ever be anything except perfect in the other's eyes. I could tell you why I hate him, but it won't make sense to you because he'll always be a paragon to you!”
“...So what did he do to you?”
“He showed me up!” She practically spits the words. “Five years I had been fighting and clawing my way into the elite ranks, and then suddenly this scrawny kid from the fucking swamp just comes in and is immediately the best pilot in the whole goddamn Navy?! Everything I worked for was just snatched away and handed to someone else?!”
“...That's the way life goes sometimes,” I reply softly. “There's always someone better, Fiddler.”
“Yeah, well. Sometimes you get the chance to tip the scales back in your favor. You know the only reason I don't just kill you right now is I'm sure whatever Rourke is planning for you is worse. And whatever it is, I hope Wolf lives long enough to see it.”
* * *
When my bath is finished and I'm dressed in the unflattering gray sweatsuit provided to me, I'm hustled back to the attic room. Diego isn't there when I get back, and I almost panic. But within a few minutes, he reappears with damp hair and wearing the same plain gray sweatsuit that I am. He smiles mirthlessly when he sees me.
“...Guess this is the uniform for prisoners here. Gray is the new black, anyone? ...Doesn't really have the same ring to it as 'orange,' but it also goes with more...”
I don't answer. I'm crying again, and all I can do is run to him and throw my arms around him. I press my face into his shoulder as he winds his arms around me.
“I'm sorry...” I whimper. “I'm so sorry...”
“Oh, Allie...this isn't your fault. None of it is your fault.”
I pull back to look at him. “Are you okay? It looked like she got you pretty bad before.”
He winces a little. “Well, I won't say it didn't hurt. But I'm undamaged. I'll be okay.” He puts an arm over my shoulders, leading me over to the bed. “C'mere. Come sit down.”
I go where he leads me, sinking down onto the bed. I scrub at my eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, sniffling.
“...Do you remember back on the island, when we found the game room in The Celestial?”
“You mean when we still thought the Vaanti were trying to kill us?” he says wryly.
“Yeah. And we found the dossier with my name on it?”
“Right. The one with like, zero information on it, except your birthday and your birthplace.”
“...I didn't understand it. At that point, I still had this whole timeline in my head. The one where you and I grew up together. The one we're living now. I couldn't understand why I was the one with the highest threat rating, the one no one could figure out. I thought I was simple. Nothing special. And if I didn't know what I am now, I still wouldn't understand.”
“...What do you mean?”
“...The people I love most in the world are all smart and successful. Geniuses, athletes, revolutionaries. You write books that make the best-sellers list. My husband was an ace pilot in his day. Raj is a world-famous chef. Michelle is a doctor. Quinn is changing lives. ...I'm a dance teacher who didn't even finish college. To the casual observer, I don't really seem to fit in with the rest of the family.”
“...But you know none of us would be where we are without you, don't you?”
I know. Of course I know. It's the whole reason I was born, and it's the cause of all the existential angst I've been experiencing for the last ten months. But I'm not up for rehashing all my insecurities right now. Not even to Diego. In any case, my mind is only leaping to them in an attempt to distract me from much more pressing fears. ...It isn't working. I look up at Diego.
“...Lundgren is alive, Diego. He has Jake.”
Diego's expression crumbles as the color drains from his face. “...Oh, god...Oh, Allie...” He pulls me into his arms and holds me hard against himself, rocking me just a little forcefully. I didn't think I had tears left, but here I am, soaking Diego's gray sweatshirt with them. His hand trembles at it strokes my hair.
“...Fiddler says he's probably alive. ...But just because Lundgren wants him to suffer.”
I feel his grip on me tighten. “...We're getting out of here. I don't know how yet, but we're getting out. Either we get ourselves out, or someone will come for us. All I know for sure is that we have the best family anyone could ask for, and they have never let us down.”
In spite of myself, I feel the weakest smile tug at my lips. “...Aren't the inspirational speeches my thing?” I mumble.
“Yeah, usually. But it kinda seemed like I needed to step up here.”
A sound escapes me that might be a mix of a cough, a whimper, and a half-hearted laugh. I feel like I'm back on the mountain pass leading to the La Huerta Observatory, helplessly dangling miles above the rainforest with the rope knotted around my waist and a failing grip above me as the only things keeping me from plunging into the arms of the open air and oblivion. I grip Diego more tightly.
“...Stay with me, Diego. Whatever happens, just promise me you won't let me be alone.”
“...I promise, Allie.”
I don't know if it's a promise he'll be able to keep. But I appreciate him making it.
Kenji
I get to the hospital early the morning after the attack. I didn't sleep very much, but I don't feel tired. I'm anxious and agitated and a single cup of black coffee doesn't really help matters. I have to stuff my hands in my pockets to hide how much they're shaking.
Eva is waiting in the hall outside Tahira's room when I arrive. Seeing me approach, she pushes herself off the wall she was leaning on and comes to meet me. Her expression is one of grim determination that makes my heart twist painfully. That's not a good news expression.
“...How is she?”
“Stable. But still unconscious.”
“Is that normal?”
“For anyone else? I don't know. Doctors are being kinda vague about that. All I know is that it's not normal for her.”
“What are the doctors saying?”
“Very little, according to Rochelle and Grayson. Just that the damage wasn't as bad as it could have been and her vitals are strong.”
I sigh, and pull my hands out of my pockets without thinking to rub them over my face. When I pull them down again, Eva is frowning at me.
“You okay?” she asks. “You're...kinda shaking like a leaf.”
I shake my head, stuffing my hands back into my pockets. “It's fine. Coffee jitters. Plus I didn't really sleep last night.”
“Yeah, me neither,” she admits. After a moment, she reaches out to put a comradely hand on my shoulder. “...She's gotta be okay. They can't just...they can't just take her down...”
“No,” I agree, my voice grim. “They can't.”
I feel the tingling on my fingertips a moment before it registers that my phone is going off in my pocket. I groan, pulling it out to glance at the screen. I don't recognize the number, and I tap to ignore, stuffing my phone back in my pocket.
“Who's calling?” Eva asks.
“No one I know, and no one I care to talk to.” I lean back against the wall. “...So, can we see Tahira?”
“Yeah, I think so. I was in there for awhile before you got h--” She cuts herself off when my phone starts to buzz again. I groan, pulling it out of my pocket to read the screen.
“Same number.”
“You should answer.”
“Probably some over-enthusiastic telemarketer,” I grunt, tapping ignore again.
“...You sure about that?” Almost before she's finished her sentence, the buzzing starts again. I swear under my breath and finally raise the phone to my ear.
“Hello, who is this?” I snap.
“Katsaros,” a familiar voice grumbles back. “About time you answered, you shiny bastard.”
“...Caleb?! What the fuck?! Where the hell are you?!”
“Never mind that.”
“How did you even get this number? Did Tahira give it to you?”
“No. Never mind how I got it. ...How is Tahira?”
“Stable,” I answer flatly. After a brief hesitation, I add. “But...still unconscious.”
“...I gotta tell you something. Something she said when she was in my van. It didn't register at the time, but it might be important. ...She said, 'I think there was something on the knife'.”
“...What does that mean?”
“The fuck do I know?! Maybe it means she was poisoned somehow!”
I feel the blood rush out of my head. It makes sense. Too much sense. “...Shit...” I whisper, my voice weak and hoarse. “...If you're right...”
“...Look, I'm gonna do what I can to track down her attacker. Or at least the weapon. If I can get that back to your brainiacs, maybe they can do something with it.”
I don't mention that the only medical doctor we could actually trust with the secret side of Tahira's biology has been kidnapped from her honeymoon. I guess Dax's biologist friend at Prescott Industries could be trusted with a sample of Tahira's blood...but that would mean acquiring it...
“Caleb, be careful,” I murmur, lowering my voice. “The...person that attacked her...they aren't human.”
“Aww, you worried about me, Katsaros?”
“Fuck you!” I snarl. “I don't give a shit about you! I just care about getting hold of whoever hurt Tahira!”
“Okay, okay. Calm your tits. Seriously, relax. Remember I can conjure fire. ...But you mind telling me what this thing is, if it ain't human?”
“They're...like a hyper-evolved human. Superior strength, speed, and super senses.”
“...So it's like us.”
I sigh. “...Superficially, yes. ...You get your hands on them, or on the weapon, I'll explain in more detail.”
“...You saying that'll make you trust me?”
“I'm saying that if you help us save Tahira, it will be a huge step in the right direction.”
Tahira
I'm not conscious. I'm sure that I'm not conscious. The last thing I remember was the bright florescent light in the operating room and a face in a surgical mask hovering over me. I was cold. But the right side of my torso felt like it was on fire. Neither of those two sensations have altered, even as I open my eyes to a familiar fuschia sky. I roll my head carefully from one side to the other. The world takes a moment to catch up and slide into focus, almost like I'm drunk. But I see what I was expecting. Crystals. Giant crystals sprouting from the landscape. I'm back in the crystal dimension. The planet where I was born.
I roll carefully onto my uninjured side. The pain remains suspiciously steady. The motion doesn't cause it to flare. There's no tugging sensation to warn me that I might be about to tear whatever stitches they put in me. I sit up slowly and lift my shirt to examine the wound. But there is no wound. Just a red glow, as if there's a flashlight lodged in my torso. It burns. But the rest of me is cold. But I'm not shivering. I press a hand to my chest, and feel the steady throb of my heart under my palm. I raise my hand to hover under my nose and deliberately push out a hard breath. The rush of air tickles my skin. I'm breathing. My heart is beating. I hurt. I don't think I'm dead.
Tahira...!
The voice fills my head and spills out into the air around me. I look up sharply to see a shimmering figure floating among the crystals. I squint. Only three beings I would expect to appear to me this way. Its shape is vaguely masculine, which narrows it down to two.
“...Dad?” I venture to guess. But immediately I realize that isn't right. “No...Vaanu. Uncle. What's happening? What am I doing here?”
Wake up, Tahira. There is desperation in the voice in my head. You must wake up. I cannot reach my daughter.
“Alodia? What's wrong? Is she in trouble?”
Your enemies are moving against you. I cannot reach her. You must wake up.
“Of course. Right away...” But even as I say it, I am aware that I can't. “...Wait...I don't think it's gonna be that simple...”
Wake up, Tahira.
“I swear I'm trying! ...I think they poisoned me, Uncle. I felt so strange before I slipped off. Like I could feel a fog filling my head...” It had all come on too fast, I remember thinking. With my enhanced strength, I shouldn't have collapsed so quickly. I shouldn't have gone into shock. I should have been able to hold out longer.“...Am I dying?”
Though the thought does bring on a twinge of anxiety, I'm not nearly as scared as I probably should be. Still, Vaanu's next words are comforting.
You will not die. But you must fight.
“Right. Fight. ...Um...how?”
...Wake up, Tahira! WAKE UP!...
I grit my teeth as I struggle to my feet. The pain doesn't change with the motion of my body, but it still hurts enough to be hindering. Still, Vaanu has told me what I need to know. I'm alive. But I'm trapped. Trapped in my mind. And I am not going to escape lying in the dirt. I gather my strength and take a step. My bare foot sinks into soft purple dust. It supports my weight, and I raise my other foot to place it in front, leaving behind a neat impression in the dust behind. That's the hardest part over. I don't know where I'm going, but I've taken the first step. I'm coming, Alodia. Wherever you are, I'm coming.
Zahra
I spent the night on the floor of the office. Iris has been plugged into our systems since the news broke. Her hologram has mostly stayed off, but the lights flickering on the surface of her drone assure me she's staying vigilant. Craig came by sometime after midnight to bring me food and coffee—and an extra-large sleeping bag and pillow for us to share. I didn't get a lot of sleep, but that's par for the course. And it was nice to have Craig spooning me all night, feeling his breath against my neck. I catch a little sleep around four in the morning, waking up a couple hours later to find him gone, the heat fading from his spot in the sleeping bag. I check my phone and find a text alert:
P2: Gone to get breakfast! BBS! <3
I smirk, tapping out a reply: Better b donuts
P2: So many donuts!!! I R best bf evar!
An email alert scrolls down at the top of my phone screen. At the same time, Iris' drone chimes, her hologram flickering to life.
“Zahra, an email message has come through, marked high priority.”
“Thanks, Iris. I got it.” I double-tap the alert with my thumb and my email opens. I don't recognize the address—a string of apparently random numbers and letters—and there's an attachment. I would brush it off as a phishing scam or a virus attack, except for the message that accompanies it:
To find Cassandra Sullivan's daughter, consult her first baby. Everett Rourke was never above buying what was useful to him, no matter how ill-gotten.
“...Cassandra Sullivan. That was Alodia's mom's maiden name,” I murmur aloud.
“What about Alodia's mom?” I turn to see Craig pushing through the door, balancing a box of donuts in one hand and a dangerously sagging cardboard tray of two coffee cups in the other. I leap up to grab the tray of cups before our precious caffeine fix ends up all over the carpet.
“Jesus, Craig! Put the cups kitty-corner when there's two of them! It's too heavy when you put them both on one edge!”
“Sorry. So, what about Alodia's mom?” I show him the email pulled up on my phone. He frowns. “...What does that mean? And who sent it?”
“No idea. Iris, can you trace the IP address?”
Iris' holographic eyes flicker for a moment. “Email was sent from an internet café in Barcelona, Spain.”
“Internet café?” Craig repeats. “Those still exist?”
“...'ProjectGalatea'...”
“Huh?”
“That's what the attachment is called. ...How's our antivirus software, Iris?”
I swear Iris's smile looks smug. “Useless compared to me, Zahra. That is why you always take me with you when you go hacking.”
“Touché. Well, I'll let you take care of opening that attachment, then.”
“Of course, Zahra. I...oh, dear...” She trails off, frowning.
“What? What's wrong?”
“Observe the screen, Zahra. I believe there is something you ought to be aware of.”
I move to sit in front of the computer, where Iris has displayed a readout of security data. It takes a few times going over it to realize what I'm looking at. When it finally sinks in, I feel the blood drain out of my head. My hands start to shake on the desk in front of me.
“...Shit...oh, shit...how...?!”
“Z? What is it? What's wrong?” Craig comes to grip my shoulders. “Hey, P1, take a couple breaths.”
“...Security breaches on the island. Three of them. They weren't there when I originally went through the data logs. Iris, are these time stamps accurate?”
“I am afraid so, Zahra. These files came from the back-up archives. I was only just alerted to the discrepancy. I don't know why I didn't catch it sooner.”
“I think I know why,” I reply grimly. “Whoever is responsible, they had access to the latest codes or they would have tripped the alarm. And they were able to delete the records from the primary logs, so they have access to the security system. ...The first breech is about an hour after we lost contact with Jake, Sean, and Michelle.” I feel Craig's grip tighten at the mention of Sean.
“So...what's that mean?”
“...We won't know for sure until we look. But I have a hunch that those three at least are still on the island.”
#playchoices#choices stories you play#pixelberry choices#Endless Summer#hero#Jake McKenzie#Diego Ricardo Ortiz Soto#sean gayle#Craig Hsiao#aleister rourke#raj bhandarkar#estela montoya#quinn kelly#zahra namazi#michelle nguyen#grace hall#eva minuet#dax darcisse#poppy patel#kenji katsaros#grayson prescott
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Movie Night (ft. Cas's t-shirt)
THANK YOU for the ask, Dear Anon! I'm very flattered that you enjoyed the last one, and hope this meets your expectations! I WISH I could tag you in this, but you're on anon so.. Anyways, I went for Tuesday movie night idea, and clubbed it with a 'cute t-shirt prompt' I received and it got long AF but please leave a comment if you read and like!
*
"Ahh," Dean let out a perfect sound of exhaustion meeting the plush comfort of his couch. "It's finally Tuesday."
Sam snorted from the side, because his relationship with tuesdays had been kind of a love-hate. Not that Dean ever took him seriously - he doesn't blame his brother, really, because he wouldn't believe Dean either if he told him 'a piano crushed you to death' or any of those other ridiculous ways in which he'd died.
"If you like movie nights that much," Jack added, from the side - he was settled in one of the big chairs, looking more like a kid than he usually did. "Why don't we watch movies on other nights, too?"
Sam leaped to answer, ever ready to squeeze in a lesson for the nephilim. Good values needed to be a part of the upbringing. Children need to be taught by example. "There's an analogy we can use for this, Jack. Say, uh, Dean loves his birthday very much." Dean frowned at his brother. "Because of the pie, and the gifts, and all the beer." Dean shrugged. "So, he wishes on his birthday candles that everyday be his birthday!" Sam paused, and Dean wondered why he spoke as if he was talking to a kid, and not the strongest 2-year-old ever. "But, what happens then, is that he keeps growing a year older on each birthday - that is, everyday!"
Jack looked alarmed. "That's - bad."
"Yeah, because then I'd grow to be 60 in like a month and die." Dean added, in a deadpan.
"It won't take you thirty years to get to sixty." Sam reminded him.
"Shut up, Sam." Dean scowled and turned back to Jack. "Listen, kid, this isn't about all the good movies in the world getting finished too soon, if we watch 'em everyday. It's more about the attitude."
Jack nodded.
"Like, uh," Dean swallowed. "Like our dad always taught me and Sammy, hunters need to live a disciplined life. Can't just start watching a movie whenever, because that'll make your head feel like you're giving it permission to do crap, just like that, without a routine. That's never good for a hunter - even less so, he'd say, for the sons of an ex-Marine. Messes your head up, and takes away your ability to fixate on your decisions." Dean paused. "It's not like I've not watched movies on a Saturday because I wanted to, but the old man made sense - it's just, a routine is better to stick to."
"That sounds like a horrible amount of behavioral psychology to associate to an activity as trivial as watching a movie." Came a new voice, as Cas stood in the doorframe, his head just slightly tilted as his eyes looked straight at Dean.
Dean's exhale was caught in his lungs, and he blinked, staring at Cas with a chest full of air, and still feeling like he'd sink instead of buoyant. Cas was no longer in the trenchcoat and pants - he wore grey pyjamas which fit snug over his thighs, and a t-shirt which had to be new, because holy fucking shit.
He'd have noticed the angel walking around their bunker, wearing a black AC/DC shirt like that - simple, to someone else, perhaps - yet the way it fit over his biceps, widened his shoulders a bit more, and gave an elevated look to his chest because of the smooth descent to a toned abdomen - rendered Dean incapable of looking away. Complete with his hair sticking up at odd angles, hints of a stubble and inspecting eyes focussed on Dean, he looked like the stuff of Dean's (guilty, oh so guilty) dreams.
"H-hey, Cas." Dean cleared his throat, shifting on the larger couch to make space for him. He waved his hand dismissively to disregard all that he'd just said. "Forget about that, it was crap - come sit down." He suggested, breathlessly.
"Look who finally joined us," Sam addressed, in a normal voice and not even bothering to look up again - making Dean wonder why he didn't get all caught up in Cas's t-shirt, like Dean just had. He was unfairly attractive - but not just to Dean, right?
"I'm sorry," Cas replied, as he sat down next to Dean. Not a single part of them touched, since they were on opposite edges of a large couch Dean originally got for Sam and him - but there was still a tingling under Dean's skin, which had to be Cas's fault. "I couldn't find any socks." He turned to Dean, suddenly smiled, and tugged his pyjama up a little to show him the socks he wore. A pair of fucking novelty socks, they were - but Dean found himself grinning mindlessly, as Cas crossed his legs under him, and the visual was taken away from him.
"Of course, you couldn't." Sam inputted. "Dean hasn't been doing the laundry lately."
"Why am I the only one supposed to do it?" Dean threw back, and Sam didn't say anything to it.
"Nevermind." Cas declared. "I found socks, unwashed though they may be. Let us start." He referred to the movie.
Jack had fell silent for a moment, and he spoke up again. "Yeah! What are we watching today?"
At the same time that Sam opened his mouth - probably to drag Dean on how they better not watch something they'd just watched - Dean spoke up. "We're watching The Fellowship of The Ring, today."
"We just watched that on literally the third Tuesday of March -" Sam complained.
"Listen." Dean threw back. "Don't shove your crazy awesome memory with movies and dates, in my face - 'cause my brain forgot the movie already."
"Forgot? You probably can quote it line by line, Dean." Sam frowned. "But I guess you're not satisfied until you flawlessly recite it in your sleep, like Lost Boys."
Dean flashed his best shit-eating grin, and if that's what he was gonna do, he wasn't gonna agree with Sam. "Well, it's what we're watching, Sammy. Deal with it."
Sam narrowed his eyes. "What about Jack? Or Cas? Why don't you ask them if they want to watch Lord of the Rings again?"
"I do." Jack announced, brightly. "I like Frodo and Samwise Gamgee." Sam rolled his eyes. "But, I could also watch something else. I trust Sam's recommendations, after Harry Potter." He added, faithfully.
"Careful, buddy, Sammy's raising your son to be a nerd." Dean muttered to Cas, and he nodded, as if it was a line that needed to be answered with a nod.
Sam grinned like it was victory handed to him on a platter. "He said he could watch something else, Dean."
"What about Cas?" Dean turned to him, rotating in his seat. "Whadd'ya wanna watch, buddy?"
Cas pursed his lips, as if in deep thought. The deciding element. The one who'd tip the scales in the favor of one of the Winchesters.
"It's not Sophie's Choice," Sam grumbled sourly, as if he already knew what Cas would choose.
"Let him think!" Dean shushed his brother.
"I have reached a decision." Cas informed everyone, looking solemnly at the TV, instead of their faces. "We shall watch The Fellowship Of The Ring, tonight." He turned to Sam. "And if there's no hunts and we're at the bunker tomorrow too, Sam's choice shall prevail - that is, if Dean agrees to go against John's sayings and watch a movie on a Wednesday."
"That's fair." Jack grinned.
Dean beamed at Cas, with his little smile and his goddamn t-shirt, which was gonna drive Dean crazy in due time, he was sure. "See, Sam?" He ignored the comment on his father, because it was rare stilted humor, and in a perfect deadpan.
Sam muttered something under his breath which sounded a little bit like 'profound bond' for some reason, and rolled his eyes in defeated agreement, as Dean began to look for the movie.
"Whatever," Sam substituted, not looking up from his phone as the opening credits began to play. "The three of you can rewatch the entire LOTR series if you want, I'll just leave you to it." He shrugged.
"Hey!" Dean was annoyed. This was family movie night. Sam was supposed to be a part of it too. "Lord of the Rings is right up your alley, nerd. Why're you bitch-facing so hard tonight?"
"Well," Sam chewed on his lip. "It's very long, and I wanted to get to bed for an early night."
Dean narrowed his eyes, and hit pause on the remote just as the elves began to narrate. "Why?"
"No reason." Sam stalled. There was an almost familiar edge to his voice and -
Suddenly, it all made sense to Dean. The dots connected in his head, and Sam's reluctance to watch a three hours long movie was suddenly reasoned.
"Why, Sam?" Cas repeated, intrigued. "Are you alright? Do you not feel well?"
"He feels fine. I know," Dean cut in. "He's got a date." Sam's eyes widened before he vigorously shook his head in denial. "Some virtual crap, I bet, because you don't like to get laid, and an actual date may've involved that - but whatever is your idea of a fun time, hey, I'm not judging."
"It's not a date!" He declared.
"Then it's something like it." Dean shrugged, getting surer, with Sam's panicked expression. He knew his brother well enough to read through this cover. "Tell me Sammy, is this a video call with some chick you met online on those awful sites?"
"Dude, no." Sam balked. "I'm on no such awful site to meet chicks."
"Sure, you're not." Dean narrowed his eyes. "Then, who? Because clearly I'm right about the rest of it."
"It's," Sam looked like he didn't wanna continue, would like nothing better than to not finish the sentence. But with Cas joining in on the stare, he let out a subdued, "Uh, Rowena."
There was a stillness in the room. Dean and Cas slowly exchanged a look, and Sam flushed. "Who?"
"We know her, Dean!" Jack corrected, promptly.
"Not like Sam does," Dean shot at his brother, who looked flustered as crap, and it was all Dean had ever wanted from this conversation.
"Dean!" Sam looked grossed out, while it should've been them. He was the one dating a three hundred years old witch. "We're gonna discuss -"
"- if you're about to tell me you'll discuss a case, I swear to call you on your bullshit by calling Rowena right away." Dean challenged, definitely.
"I -" Sam pursed his lips. "I don't need to have this conversation with you, jerk."
"What about the rest of us?" Cas asked, and there was a smirk playing on his lips, which made him all the more attractive.
"None of you." Sam declared, standing up, looking offended. "You are literally infants! Don't breathe a word of this to anyone, Dean, or I'll - whatever, just watch your frigging movie, I'm out of here."
"If you're gonna do stuff, use headphones!" Dean waited until Sam was far enough to not hit Dean for it and yelled after him, as the latter marched out of the room, embarrassed. It was his duty as the older brother to make that happen, so no issues there. He turned back to Cas, grinning at him - and Jack, of course.
"The rest of us are here without the intention of leaving halfway to call a chick, right?" Dean asked, though it was a pretty stupid question for Jack - and if the answer were yes for Cas, he'd have a major-ass freak out right there.
"Right." Cas confirmed, for some reason; his voice rich and gravelly, and Dean's attention was once again taken by Cas's t-shirt - now that his kid brother was sufficiently out of the picture. True, Jack was still there, but that's a different issue. Dean had to hold a reputation in front of Sam, that he could control his senses in the presence of Cas, and that he could rein it in, and that he could do a lot of things which he was very far from, in reality.
"Me too." Jack announced, brightly, and Dean rolled his eyes.
"Jack, you're two." Cas informed him, and Dean had to stifle a snort at the very notion. Nevertheless, he toned down the weird, made himself comfortable in the couch - maybe shifting a little towards the middle, and let out a small, content sigh, for the second time this evening.
He hit play.
*
“Why do we keep making the same mistake?” Dean groaned, his head falling back on the sofa. Once again, like every tuesday ever - they’d forgotten to get food before they sat to watch the movie. Now, around half an hour in, it was all Dean could think about. But getting up seemed like an awful chore.
Cas nodded his head in agreement, grave and earnest. “It’s because we don’t learn our lesson.”
“Dean, do you want to learn said lesson tonight, by not eating?” Jack asked.
“No.” Dean glared at him. “I may be around Mr. No-Food, and Little-to-no-food, but it isn’t wearing off on me.” They’d not paused the movie to have this discussion, so he kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke. “As a human, I have a few simple needs. Such as beer and something like popcorn to chew as I watch a classic with my - I mean, with you guys.”
“Okay." Cas shuffled in his seat, beginning to stand up. Dean frowned instantly, and pulled him down, gripping his wrist. Cas easily succumbed, and was back on the couch with a surprised little bounce - looking at Dean, confused. "What? I'll get you the beer and popcorn, so that you don't have to get up. I can obviously see you don't want to."
Aww, Dean's brain melted.
"Nope." He said, out loud, popping the 'p'. "You don't need to do that. I'll go."
"I volunteer, Dean. It's not about need," Cas protested. "And you enjoy this movie more than I do."
"Sure, but I've watched it a helluva lot more too." Dean raised his eyebrows, and Cas smiled a little, one of those smiles that he reserved for Dean, and made his insides flutter.
"We could just pause it." Jack suggested, not looking away from the TV yet, for the entirety of the conversation.
"No, you keep watching, there's no need," Dean excused, standing up himself, smiling in spite of himself. Cas looked at him, and not at the screen.
"Dean," And that wonderful voice of his swept over Dean's brain and made the puddle vaporize or some shit.
"Yeah, Cas?"
"I could keep telling you what's happening, while you're in the kitchen." Cas proposed, breaking into a wider smile, all crinkly and toothy.
"Aww, Cas," Dean couldn't stop himself in time, staring blindly at Cas's face and short-circuiting in his head. And instantly cleared his throat, and added in a more composed tone. "Okay, you do that. Thanks, I guess."
Dean wondered, as he walked into the kitchen and went looking for the bacon he'd made earlier, what was up with him tonight. He was usually able to hold his tongue in front of Cas - he was usually able to look away from him, even though it took some persuasion. But there was something today, that had taken away his brain-to-mouth-and-eyes filter.
Must be the new shirt.
Dean knocked, obnoxiously loud, at Sam's door before barging in with a plate of bacon and a beer. He saw Sam fast asleep, on his front, and did not know where to go with that, so he left the table at his bedside in case he was going to wake up and resume his midnight call or something.
Then he took the rest of the food and two beers and went back to the movie room.
All through his venture, Cas had kept yelling updates through the door. "Merry and Pippin just hugged Frodo!", "And now, Frodo just met Bilbo again!", "Arwen is speaking with Frodo now!" This had made Dean grin so hard, that he almost dropped the dishes. Damn, Cas was awesome.
As Dean handed him a beer, and put the plate of bacon between them on the couch, Cas whispered to him. "And Arwen just kissed Aragorn, son of Arathorn."
And Dean stared at Cas, his blue, blue eyes and his eyebrows pinched together in concentration, and his crinkled nose - and his goddamn voice, and his way of speaking, and how he just said the words 'Aragorn, son of Arathorn' like an entire fucking dork, and how adorable it was that he'd been doing a live-commentary for Dean, and just - he was almost overpowered by a desire to kiss the perfect little smile tugging at his lips, and palm the stubble-covered cheeks, and maybe, if Jack weren't here, pull that gorgeous fucking t-shirt over his head, because it was distracting.
Dean was instantly taken aback by his own stream of thoughts. He was clearly going crazy.
He could bet it was the fault of the shirt.
*
Okay, but at this moment, Dean needs the remote.
And it's not just because the remote is on the other side, next to Cas, and Dean's brain instantly launches into a scene in his head, when Dean asks for the remote and Cas is too comfortable (he's already holding onto a large cushion like it's a blanket) to move, and he tells Dean to take it himself - and then Dean will have to lean over Cas to get it, and there'll be a moment where he's almost on top of him, and they'll happen to look at each other, and Cas's eyes will flit down to Dean's lips as Dean adjusts himself to reach the remote, on Cas's lap, and maybe Cas says something like -
That's enough.
Dean doesn't need the remote so that something like that plays out in reality. He only needs the remote to lower the volume, because Jack is asleep and he'll wake up otherwise in the war scene and noise that'll follow.
But this way or that, he can see the said scene happening.
Maybe there's a part of him which wants it to happen exactly how it happened in his head.
Maybe it will.
So, with more energy than the sentence needed, he says, "Cas! I need the remote!"
And Cas turns his head to look at Dean, an incomprehensible expression.
But instead of saying a variation of, 'take it yourself' like he was really, really supposed to -
He picks up the remote with his left hand and hands it to Dean simply.
Dean stares at it for a moment, everything forgotten, especially the reason why he needed the remote in the first place. And then he kicks himself for being a goddamn teenage girl about this, and plays off the disappointment with a 'thank you' in the manliest voice he can conjure, and he's pretty sure it makes up for the kind-of-but-not-really pornography he'd been dreaming up. Sam's irritating voice nags in his head, you're confusing reality with porn again.
Of course, Dean is too lost thinking and staring at Cas sideways when he's sure Cas can't see him - to remember to lower the volume, and Jack wakes up with a jolt at the Uruk-Hai screeching at Gimli the dwarf.
*
Jack's going off to his room. The movie isn't finished yet, but he's been dosing off throughout and Dean can't tolerate the insult to the Classic, so he tells him to just go off to sleep. It's been a long day.
"Will you both watch it whole?" Jack asks groggily, before leaving and Dean looks enquiringly at Cas. He only has to turn his head a little, because Cas is much closer to him now. They've both gravitated towards the middle.
"Of course." Cas answers. "Unless Dean needs to sleep." Dean shakes his head confidently, and Jack nods.
"Okay, goodnight dads." He mutters, at least it sounds like it, and Dean would've lost it if Cas's slight weight leaning on his arm weren't grounding him to his current location instead of somewhere panicky in his head.
"Goodnight, Jack." Dean lets out, and he's aware it doesn't sound as constipated as he thought it would, and he's proud of it.
"Dean." Cas speaks up, a moment later. "I think we should turn off the lights."
"What?" Dean blinks, mildly.
"I know neither of us will want to get up later." Cas justifies. "So we might as well do it now."
"Can't you," Dean grumbles. "Can't you use your mojo to push the switch, or..?"
Cas sighs. Then blinks, and the entire room goes dark. Cas's eyes open, and they're gleaming like blue halos of light in the suddenly dark room - and Dean can still make out his face, in the light of it. It's all hard lines and small smiles, from the little he sees. "I need to remember I can do these things, don't I?" He mumbles.
"Yeah, our human incapabilities are wearing off on ya." Dean tells him and they start looking at the screen again.
"You're not incapable if you have to stand up to turn off the lights." Cas replies, and Dean just hums in response.
A little later, Cas speaks again, and he sounds happier almost. "Dean."
"Uh-huh?" Dean looks away from Gandalf on the screen, to look at the angel.
"Did you notice Jack kept falling asleep?"
Dean pauses. "Oh." He smiles too, it coming over him all of a sudden. "Yeah."
"That means," Cas's tone is bright, and Dean can hear his smile. "He's enough human to fall asleep in the middle of a movie, again."
"Human incapabilities strike again," Dean teases, and Cas chuckles audibly and it's a really, really good moment. Although yeah, it's a bit too domestic for Dean to be perfectly at calm - Cas and he are sitting in the dark, watching a movie they've watched so many times before, discussing the progress of the nephilim they've been raising (with Sam, of course) and Dean has his hand around Cas's seat - in what he now feels guilty on realizing is the oldest trick in every guy's playbook. They're both more in the middle of the couch than not, and the beers have been drained to the last drop. One of them doesn't sleep, the other won't - and then there's Cas's perfect t-shirt, which shall drive Dean to madness each time he sees it, and beyond.
*
Slowly, the arm which is on the couch, falls on Cas's shoulder - and it's a rather rapid course from there to it being slung around Cas, with Cas tucked under it and leaning into Dean so that it's comfortable.
It's not that Cas's head is on Dean's chest, or not even that his fingers are playing with the fabric of Cas's shirt - its just that they're so close to doing that, and somehow Dean can't pull back this time.
Like, he suddenly realizes, he's been doing forever.
It's again, a good thing that he pretty much knows LOTR scene by scene, and in spite of almost completely being distracted by everything Cas, he answers all trivial questions Cas mumbles at him in that deep, deep baritone - and there's a heat pooling in Dean's insides, and he can't quite place if its the spot behind his ribs, or further south.
Both sounds most appropriate.
*
Dean is not proud of this, but he fell asleep.
It's not that he didn't finish the movie, because he did - he remembers the last scene (or it could be from a previous watching that he recalls it) but it's just that he fell asleep right there. Next to Cas.
No, not even next to him. Pretty much wrapped around him. And somehow that's - not so wild, after all. It kinda feels awesome. Its not even morning yet, so he has more hours.
He wakes up with his hair tickling his breath and coughs mildly when he realizes that he'd buried his nose in Cas's hair - and his lips on his head, apparently. He straightens, but is sure to not make much movement - because Cas doesn't sleep like they do, he rather drifts off to a sorta-catatonic state but stays very much awake and alert. He doesn't want to wake Cas up, because the angel looks so comfortable, nestled on Dean's chest - that it somehow invokes a feeling of pride in him.
And love.
And that's that. The not-freaking-out segment of this story abruptly comes to an end, and Dean clenches his fist to stop himself from beginning to tremble.
He ends up with a fistful of that goddamn shirt which Dean blames for everything in that night, and Cas stirring awake, and straightening. The weight rested on Dean's abdomen is lost, and it feels weird and colder.
"It's seven minutes to four. Ante Meridiem." Cas announces, in a voice which is roughened by lack of use.
"You should go back to sleep." Dean begs, because Cas doesn't need to see Dean get anxious about the whole pile of feelings he's beginning to feel crushed under.
"Dean." Cas says, in that voice, and straightens some more. He's at Dean's height again, and their noses are inches apart, and Cas looks worried about him. "Dean?" He repeats, and he's concerned, and he's perfect, and his voice is something else, and the way he looks at him is something else like Dean is worthy of all his attention somehow - and the emotions are brimming and he doesn't know what to do with them until he -
He jerks himself ahead, and grabs Cas's shirt for good measures, pressing his lips against Cas's.
It's a moment of bravery, it's a moment of impulse, and it's a moment of utter stupidity because Cas doesn't react -
Until he does, and he kisses back, and he's excited and into it and Dean's taken aback by his vigor and in awe of his own hands which are grappling at Cas's t-shirt for friction as he moans into Cas's mouth.
"I blame the t-shirt," He whines, when they pull away, to look at each other better. And he does.
Of course, he's not an idiot (except for the many times that he is). But what he definitely isn't, is dense enough to not realize that this had been over ten years in the making.
These urges were familiar, and suppressed each time - the sudden feelings were overpowering, except he'd learn to deal with them tactfully, by crushing them with every means possible.
But what had changed today and he'd actually acted on it instead of swallowing it, had to be the tee. It fit like magic, and it perfectly showcased his lean, muscled chest - and gave a peak of his collarbones, and if he stretched, his obliques - and it was as black as his hair in the dark, and ah, it had to be the shirt.
Because otherwise, he didn't know what it could be, that had made tonight - today - this.
Cas still had his hand on Dean's bicep. "This one?" He looks down at himself. "I got it from your closet months ago."
"What -"
"And, you blame it?" He repeats.
"No," Dean shakes his head, anxiously, truthfully as he captures his lips in a kiss again. Slotting in place against each other, and as loving as they were passionate - he had had no idea that kissing Cas would be this amazing. "I love it. I'm gonna need you to keep wearing it. On Thanksgiving, I'm gonna be thankful for it."
Cas laughs against Dean's lips, and says something which is lost in the bliss of the moment.
Nevermind. He has all the moments after this, to listen to him. But he only has this one, at the end of a Tuesday movie night, to enjoy their first kiss (he's pretty sure all the short, little kisses just make up one major kiss). So he does.
*
Edit: Thank you for reading! Would like to tag @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @all-or-nothing-baby @styggtroll @notyoursweetbaboo @moderatelypanickedbisexual @but-for-the-gods-three-days and @emmii4 ! If you don't wanna be tagged, I'll remove you from the list, just ask! Have an awesome day!
#supernatural#season 14#spn#destiel#ac/dc#supernatural season 14#not spoilers#sam winchester#dean winchester#castiel#jack kline#the end#casdean#destiel fluff#lord of the rings#destiel kiss#destiel crack#samwena#implied destiel#angel cas#domestic destiel#mutual pining#sheya shall deliver#i wrote a thing#writing prompts#john winchester#john winchester's a+ parenting#deancas#dean and sam
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