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blouisparadise · 4 years ago

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Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Harry is pining. We also have a pining Louis fic rec list here and a mutual pining fic rec list here, if you’re interested. If you enjoy this rec list, please support it by giving it a like and a reblog to spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Could Be Kissing My Fruit Punch Lips | Explicit | 4554 words

Harry happens upon a porn site that specializes in live videos and sort of falls in love with the cute boy he only knows as Kitty.

And then he gets the surprise of his life when he finds out Kitty attends his university...

2) Put You On Repeat, Play You Everywhere I Go | Explicit | 8290 words

Harry is a college radio show host and Louis is a contemporary dancer attending said college. After a drunk hook-up, naturally a whole bunch of pining, dedicated love songs and make-out sessions on dance studio floors ensue.

3) Focal Point | Mature | 8935 words

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone, so don’t bother looking. Last night was lovely, Harry, I’m sure you agree. Sorry to run, but that’s just how life works sometimes, I’m sure you understand. Don’t forget about me. xx P.S. Thanks for the money.

4) Sit Next To Me | Mature | 12299 words

Harry Styles of One Direction always gets what he wants. Well, nearly always. What he can’t seem to figure out is why the very fit man who comes to assist Liam’s tattoo artist seems to have zero interest in him. Is Louis Tomlinson the straightest man alive? Or does Louis showing up for every show on tour mean something more is going on?

5) Doesn't Have To Be A Real Thing | Explicit | 12532 words

In which Harry helps Louis get over his ex and it kind of becomes a regular thing. It’s totally casual – they have an understanding. But what happens to Harry when Nick reappears in Louis’ life?

6) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13150 words

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

7) Wake Me Up With It | Mature | 13699 words

The one where Louis makes Harry tell him a kink he's never gotten to try out, and then he offers to do it with him, which leads to Harry's heart exploding afterwards when Louis seems to have meant it as a one time thing. Featuring a pining Harry, a scared Louis, and an excessive use of the word baby.

8) A Love Reaction | Mature | 15802 words

It's never been a thing. Not until now.

9) Dance Like Warriors On A Battlefield | Explicit | 20028 words

Down in the arena, the triumphant gladiator places his foot on the back of the loser, holding him there as he waits for instruction on his next move. Kill or let live. It’s barbaric, really, the bloodlust involved in this sport. Louis is pretty sure that if it wasn’t for his distaste for the killing there would be a lot more blood soaking that sand.

As it is, his father rarely gives the kill order anymore. He gives the order to let the loser live. Louis rolls his eyes, turning away. He doesn’t miss the way the gladiator’s eyes linger on him.

10) A Springtime's Wilt, An Autumn's Bloom | Explicit | 25953 words

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

11) I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) | Explicit | 20681 words

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course. Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

12) England Has My Bones | Explicit | 24087 words

The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.

13) Indestructible | Explicit | 24243 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob.

“Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is.

“I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him.

Louis freezes.

14) To Be Loved (And To Be In Love) | Mature | 30227 words

The one where Louis’s popular, Harry’s not and they bond by trying to get their friends together while accidentally matchmaking the entire school.

15) Not Quite | Explicit | 34163 words

Niall gives Harry an exasperated look, nodding slowly. “Okay...so do you want to explain why we’re hiring Louis? And do you want to explain it without making any mention of his soft hair or ample buttocks?”

16) And Touch Me Like You Never | Explicit | 35971 words

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

17) The Sweetest Incantation | Explicit | 40600 words

Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

18) Your Touch Shouldn't Make Me Feel Like This | Explicit | 48883 words

Uni AU in which Alpha Harry has been in love with his omega friend for the longest time and one motorbike trip to the countryside with Louis made him realize that he could no longer hold back his feelings.

19) Some Things Take Root | Explicit | 50269 words

AU. Louis’ ex doesn’t get jealous of anyone besides Harry. Harry helps Louis use that to his advantage.

20) Social Cues | Explicit | 55860 words

To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.

He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?

Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.

It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?

21) Amazing Sin | Explicit | 56034 words

The story of Louis ‘Steal Your Man’ Tomlinson.

22) You're Supposed To Be Smart. | Explicit | 83318 words

Louis is an oblivious idiot who get's high scores in exam and will probably graduate with flying colors and Harry Styles is a right idiot who swore to always protect Louis but can't ask him out on a date.

23) Your Name is Tattooed on My Heart | Explicit | 86809 words

Louis is ready to find the love of his life, but first he has to stop falling for the punk rocker next door.

24) Falling Into You | Mature | 143112 words

In the grand scheme of adolescence and boyhood, Harry was still working himself out, so far with little luck. But four things he could say for certain: 1) he'd been at the top of his class all through primary and secondary school, 2) he was the shittiest alpha to ever walk the earth, 3) Liam Payne never let him forget it, and 4) he’d been in love with this boy, Louis Tomlinson, ever since he was fifteen years old.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #pining harry #larry #blp #blp fic recs #fic recs

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dented-nado · 4 years ago

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Well since you specifically asked: Twiddler

“Yah I like Eddie but he’s straight // BAD LUCK, HUH?”

“No he’s not”

“NO IM NOT??”

Shenanigans

I’m dying right now, the ol’ Harv(ey) stubbornly thinks that Edward fucking Nygma is s t r a I g ht love it. Still one of my fave convos we’ve ever had.

==================

Eddie’s POV

=====================

It had been about a year since he had joined the sort of halfway home that Bruce Wayne had opened up for Ex-Rogues. However Eddie was somewhat convinced the billionaire he now realized had been Batman the whole time (pfft, he totally could have figured that out… he just… hadn’t…) rather liked having he, Harley, and Harv(ey) as a sort of odd band of roommates. And well… a literal mansion wasn’t a bad place to stay in by any stretch of the imagination.

He certainly had expected (and been quietly and not so quietly jealous) that because Harv(ey) and Bruce had apparently been close as far back as when they were children, Wayne would certainly be ecstatic to have Two-Face hanging around. He still was a little bit taken a back that well… anyone would want him around.

But he really was trying to reform. Maybe part of it was because the routine had gotten boring and he’d started finding more quiet and less destructive games and puzzles more entertaining these days. Besides, he realized he could have more fun with such things when he wasn’t being hauled back to Arkham because he’d taken things a little too far so often.

That being said, he had a new focus, a new goal.

And that was the previously mentioned Harv(ey) Dent. The giant, the absolute unit that towered over him.

Two souls for the price of one. Harvey was quietly intelligent (though sometimes a little bit delightfully oblivious), kind, and soft. Then Harv, he was bold, had a wonderfully fun fashion sense, and had a gravelly voice that admittedly caused Eddie’s mind to pull a blank at times.

They were a man that could have half their face burned to a crisp with acid and still be the only man that had been in Arkham (in Edward’s opinion) that could really get it.

He still remembered the first time “two-face” had been escorted into Arkham, the sight of them had knocked the wind right out of him, completely stopped his plotting for his next attempt to outsmart Batman.

Sure, perhaps he had heard and sort of seen images of Harvey Dent, the famous distract attorney that had been nicknamed Gotham’s “white knight” on the tiny, crappy TV they were occasionally allowed to watch when they were let out of their cells. But that never did him justice.

Seeing him here? Up close?

What a man. A handsome man, carved by angels and blessed by the devil

Now if only he could get Harv(ey) Dent to notice him.

Since that day he’d tried time and time again under the hope that maybe just maybe… this giant of a man would consider a relationship of sorts.

He tried to impress them with his vast intellect, sitting close to him and going off about any fact or subject he happened to know. He then tried to drill Harvey about his knowledge as a lawyer (which he thought also might just be interesting to know). They were certainly a good listener… and Harvey warmed up to talking about legal jargon and the pains of law school with Eddie eventually.

He was able to talk to Harv about their mutual love of fun patterns and bright colors and agreed that anyone who dissed it just didn’t understand fashion. He also realized soon that Harv loved to talk when he was acknowledged, and Eddie was more than happy to encourage him to and lightly swoon at that voice.

However, they were still only on a ‘good pals’ basis.

Which maybe Eddie could have accepted, except he caught Harvey staring at him at times, smiling slightly whenever Eddie would talk about what interested him. And Harv, he had gotten Harv to laugh a few times.

There was something there, he knew it, but for some reason he couldn’t puzzle out, Dent wasn’t acting on it.

It continued to this day. Harley had suggested to Edward he simply outright tell Harv(ey) Dent he was interested in them. But that wasn’t fun or interesting, and certainly not as romantic as Eddie would like.

So, after years of frustration now, he decided he’d go to the one person who had known Harv(ey) Dent their whole life for advice.

============

Bruce’s POV

============

“So, that’s my dilemma.” Edward finished, pushing up his glasses in a very matter-of-fact way.

Bruce sighed. The only person who had ever rivaled his own stubbornness and… stupidity when it came to others having an romantic interest in them, was in fact Harv(ey) Dent. This would no doubt be difficult.

He wasn’t even sure how he managed to get into a relationship with Clark and Diana, so he wasn’t sure how much of a help he’d be trying to get Harv(ey) and Eddie to pair up.

“I’m decently sure he’s interested in you.” He replied.

“I’m quite sure too, however nothing I do seems to get them to do anything.” Eddie expressed, looking completely exasperated.

“hrrn....” Bruce grumbled thoughtfully. “What have you tried so far?”

“Well… I’ve given them gifts, flowers seemed like a sure-fire method- yet he seemed to somehow take them as a platonic gift.”

Bruce stared at Eddie for a long moment. “Who gives flowers platonically?”

Eddie shrugged.

Bruce sighed. “Dammit Harvey… Harv…” He mumbled under his breath. “I could try talking to them, get some better idea of what’s going on their head, could be Harvey and Harv keep arguing on how they want to respond.” He suggested.

Eddie nodded thoughtfully. “That may be the case, that is a possibility I had not considered… thank you for your assistance batma….. ah… Bruce…” He corrected with a slight grin.

Bruce half smiled back.

Batman was on the case.

====

“So… Harv…. Harvey…” Bruce began wandering over to where they were sitting.

They were seemingly switching between drinking a hot coffee and a Frappuccino.

Harvey had complained more than once that because of their disagreements Harv ended up making them consume way too much sugar. Too much caffeine in this case it seemed.

Their eyes flicked over to him.

“Hi Bruce.”

“What’s up Pretty Boy?”

Bruce sat down across from them. “Eddie seems to be interested in you.”

Never hurt to be blunt with a lawyer.

Harvey snorted. “That’d be nice… he is really cute but…”

“I’m sure Eddie is straight, just our luck, right?”

Bruce had never been so shocked in all his life.

Straight?

Eddie…

Straight?! E d d I e.

Str a I ght, Edward Nygma E Nygam s t ra ight

The two concepts being put together caused a complete error in Bruce’s mind that was slowly beginning to fry.

Who could possibly conclude that Edward was s t r aight?

The riddler…. The riddler who for a while greeted Batman like he was lowkey interested in a literal love-hate relationship

Edward

Str a I ght.

“Are you… fucking kidding me?” Bruce ended up stammering before he even realized it. “He’s not… at all!”

Harvey blinked at him a few times in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

Bruce gaped at them. They couldn’t be serious.

“Harvey… I… Harv… he… he’s not exactly subtle about it. In fact he’s very open, very much out and proud, flaming even. I’m sure he’d agree.”

Harvey looked at Bruce through squinted eyes. “Are you sure Bruce?”

“Sure, maybe he’s a bit more flashy than your average guy, but that doesn’t mean gay.” Harv added with a shrug.

“He calls you handsome at least 3 times a day.” Bruce said still staring at Harv(ey) like they were absolutely insane.

“Lots of people do.”

“Have you ever seen him even flirt with any women??” Bruce asked in disbelief.

“No but… well there’s always been more men in Arkham, and when do you even have time for that?”

Bruce was somewhere in-between wanting to laugh at them and slap them.

“He’s given you flowers.”

“Pretty sure he’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly…” Bruce wheezed.

This conversation was taking years off his life at this point. He shook his head and texted Edward.

“Get in here (the living room downstairs) It’s important”

Edward slid in and sat peppily down on the couch with Bruce within a few minutes, causing Harv(ey) to look between Eddie and Bruce in confusion.

“You rang Mr. Wayne~?” Eddie asked with a cheeky grin as he leaned his head against his hand.

“You know what these men just said to me?” Bruce began folding his hands together.

“Bruce nooo…” Harvey pleaded.

“No no, I think he should know.” Bruce insisted.

Eddie raised his eyebrows comically high. “Well don’t keep me waiting, what’s the tea?”

Bruce cleared his throat. “They said… they’re sure you’re straight.”

Eddie stared at Bruce for a minute, eyes widening.

“Me?” He asked completely baffled.

Bruce nodded.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed until his face turned red and he had trouble breathing.

Harv(ey) looked on stiffly, feeling as if they had made a mistake somewhere as the dawning realization slapped them in the face.

============

Harv(ey)’s POV

===================

It was bad enough they had put themselves in denial so far they had missed out starting something with the small bean-pole riddle-man much earlier…

But now because they had convinced themselves Eddie was straight and therefore could have no interest in them… Eddie and Bruce were refusing to let them live it down.

And Bruce seemed to have gotten literally everyone in on the joke. Anyone Bruce hadn’t told between his partners and his massive family, Eddie had told.

Harley had begun kissing Ivy in front of them while they both traded off saying “no homo tho” between kisses until Harv(ey) groaned and left the room in a huff, leaving them both laughing maniacally.

Eddie had begun dramatically entering a room with a flourish announcing “Ladies and Gentlemen, Guys, Gals, and Non-binary pals, the straightest man alive has arrived, you may all start the party.”

Even when they first slept together, Edward had started quietly laughing and mumbling about “how straight, and very much not gay at all this occurrence was.”

Bruce hadn’t been able to look at them in weeks without breaking out into a full on belly laugh at his expense, mumbling something along the lines of “The Riddler, st r a I ght, good lord...”

On one hand they were happy Bruce was laughing more but god dammit…

They felt a bit dumb about it to say the least.

“How did we ever think Eddie was straight?” Harvey thought to himself.

“I don’t fucking know. I really… really… don’t.”

Well… maybe giving everyone a little levity while still being able to date a cute red-head that seemed to know the strangest facts about almost everything that they could enjoy listening to him babble about for hours happily…. Was all worth it. Even if they were embarrassed by their comically stupid brand of denile.

#prompt fill #twiddler #two face x riddler #harvey dent #harv dent #edward nygma #e nygma #the riddler #batman #bruce wayne #two face #gotham rogues #dc villains #dc comics #fanfic #dc fanfic

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harryandhishook · 5 years ago

Text

Thanksgiving Secrets

Fandom: Dream Daddy

Pairing: Background Hugo x Damien

Setting: Maple Bay

Warning: Erm … Coming out? Swearing? I have no idea

Summary: After going to College, Lucien is invited for Thanksgiving with his Dad, Hugo and Ernest, however, Ernest hasn’t been his normal self and some secrets are revealed

Words: 4059

Requested: Nope, I wrote this last November in a book on a coach coming back from Walk Disney World Florida

Side note: Before I give my apologies, I AM A TRANS MAN, if anything in here sounds off or doesn’t sound like how you expect a coming out story is, just remember, everyone’s coming out story is different and I tried to do this the best I can.

Also I am so so sorry, I know I haven’t uploaded in ages and I know there is no excuse but University is a bitch, my mental health is not good and my Grandmother (Who raised me) is pushing me to my limit and I’m so close to cutting contact with her. Sorry to unload all that to you but I’m trying my hardest to keep myself together and not just quit everything.

Here, have a cute Gif of Damien stroking a cat :) And sorry for any errors in the writing, it’s long and I still don’t have anyone to read my stuff over for me :(

Growing up wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, it just … sucked. When people aged, they found their soulmates, got jobs, leave to see the world, people grow up in body and mind.

It was around the time that Lucien was in his final year of Highschool when his Dad and Hugo finally confessed their feelings to each other and became a thing, Ernest was still young and very much acting out.

Lucien was the quickest to accept it, he was a little hesitant at first seeing as it was just him and Damien through his entire life and his Dad wasn’t exactly a stereotypical person, he may not act like it but when it comes to his Father, he is crazy protective over him and well, he didn’t want to let him get hurt, however, over time, he realised just how much the two Cul-De-Sac Fathers loved each other.

Ernest on the other hand, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the fact that his Father was dating, he couldn’t accept that he could one day have a Stepbrother, he just couldn’t accept any of it. The boy did everything to try and stop it, he acted out even more than usual, tried to split them up, he did whatever he could think of but no matter what, Damien would always treat him like he was his own son.

Now, a few years down the line, Lucien decided to prove every one of his disapproving teachers wrong and leave for College, all the while Ernest was stuck in his final year of Highschool, now, the pyromaniac delinquent was still one of his biggest features, something he was still well known as but the young Vega boy was actually a lot calmer than before and actually tried his hardest to settle down.

Damien and Hugo knew that Ernest never really had much of a problem with telling someone, even if it was through anger, how he felt and both Fathers had come to think that maybe the boy had completely reformed himself, figuring himself out, growing up from the mischievous boy they had watch destroy himself with hate and they both hoped that the boy would stay that way.

This year, the family decided to host Thanksgiving together, Lucien agreeing to travel down and stay for two weeks with them all while Damien tried to get as much time as he could from work for his Son. Luckily for Hugo and Ernest, the school boiler had decided to explode quite abruptly, leaving almost the entirety of the upper school, Hugo and Ernest area, flooded, giving them both the opportunity to stay at home for longer.

The day Lucien arrived home, he two Dad decided to meet him at the bus station, they had asked Ernest who had politely refused which was not much of a surprise to them, he barely left his room recently, he didn’t say why but they expected it may have possibly been school work.

When they had arrived at the station and greeted Lucien very happily, they had both shrugged off his question of, ‘where’s the brat?’, stating that he was busy and found it difficult to put his stuff down, not wanting him to worry too much when he had only just got there.

When Lucien got to the house, he was more than happy to wave at all his old neighbours with a wide smile on his face, anyone from a mile away could tell he had missed Maple Bay. It took almost an hour before the emo was able to walk through the door, not only did he need help with bags, his neighbours that he had waved to, mainly Mary, Joseph and Brian, had taken it upon themselves to bombard him with questions … okay, mainly Joseph and Brian, Mary was just happy to see the little monster again.

Finally, Lucien was in the clear, bags in the hall, coat and shoes off, placed neatly in their respective places while Damien rushed off to make them all something special to eat that night. The bo-young adult moved through his old home without so much as looking where he was going, all perfectly memorised until he reached the room that he never really needed to go into, the room that was never used into recently, Ernest’s room.

With a soft knock, Lucien waited, he knew that even with Ernest being older and probably not bothered by the emos presence, he still needed privacy,

“Who is it?” came a quiet and tired sounding voice, to anyone outside of the family, they would have thought someone else had spoken but Lucien could recognise the little shits voice better than anyone,

“Oi, dickhead, you gonna open up for your favourite brother or not?” Lucien playfully replied, hoping his usual attitude and joking ways could coax Ernest out of his little hiding mood. It took a few moments but soon enough, the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking and very messy looking Ernest, his hair was a mess, his clothes looked like they hadn’t seen a washing machine in years from how crumpled and wrinkly they were and finally, even if the boy thought no one could see, Lucien wasn’t so easily fooled as to not see the dried tears staining his cheeks,

“Ernest, man, what happened?” the emo asked, pushing them both into the room so he could block out everyone else once the door was shut, “You look like shit, when was the last time you had a shower? What the hell happened to you dude?” he asked, well, more demanded to know as he continued to push the younger boy into the room, sitting him on the bed before shuffling around the piles of clothes and trash, picking up the laundry to move out into the hamper before picking up every single piece of rubbish and crap left on the floor,

“Nothings wrong, Luce, I’m fine, I’ve just been busy, you know how it is, final year of school and all that” Ernest protested, trying his hardest to sound normal but failing miserably to convince his best friend and brother,

“Yeah, bullshit, if you’re so busy with work then I’m the straightest man alive, you’re lies ain’t gonna work on me so either you tell me what’s going on or have a shower, you smell like death so pick one or the other” Lucien demanded sternly, giving him a pretty simple choice, now to see if Ernest would actually pick one.

Luck would have it, Ernest grumpily rolled himself from the bed and made his way begrudgingly to the bathroom that was opposite the boys room, causing the emo to smile in relief.

As the sound f the shower filled the hall and the grumbles of annoyance hit the older siblings ears, Lucien made his way downstairs, large bag of trash in one hand and the hamper in the other. The little chore was meant to go smoothly … if his dads weren’t being stupidly lovey dovey in he kitchen, at least he got to see both adults become exceedingly embarrassed at being caught, however, that changed to shock when they spotted that the rebellious emo they had grown to love was cleaning in the first few minutes of staying in the house,

“It’s not what it looks like, Ernests room was a mess so I cleaned his room while he’s taking a well needed shower” Lucien explained as he put the bag of trash by the back door, “O know there is something wrong with him and I’m going to try get it out of him … whether he likes it or not” the boy stated as he moved into the adjacent room to start the new load of laundry, he was so busy he hadn’t even noticed his parents enter the room after him,

“My darling, we didn’t want you to worry, Ernest has been acting quite peculiar as of late, normally we can easily piece together his dilemma but … as you saw, he hasn’t left his room in quite some time” Damien explained as they stood in the doorway, watching the emo boy start the washer before turning to look at the two men, he was about to speak when Hugo interrupted him,

“I don’t want to lose Ernest, not when I’ve just managed to get him to call me dad again” the eldest Vega whispered, sighing as the Victorian beside him gently laced their fingers together, “Lucien please try and get him to open up to us” years ago, Lucien would tell his parents to do it themselves but from the looks on his dads faces, it was out of their hands and unsurprisingly up to him,

“Fine but only because I love you both” the emo chuckled, walking in between them to escape the little room, “Anyway, who can resist my puppy dog eyes” Lucien smirked before pointing at Damien, “and one of Dads famous movie pamper nights” he finished as he vanished back upstairs,

“Damien, what is he talking about?” the teacher asked, absolutely confused but also very intrigued. Hugo turned his gaze to the side only to come face to face with a very ecstatic man next to him,

“It’s been so long, I will need many supplies, first, I’ll need to find a good movie, maybe comedy, oh how this brings back so many memories” the Victorian man rambled as he scurried about the rooms, writing a very long list, “this will surely help Ernest, why did I not think of this” he muttered before handing the list to the other man in the room, “I will need you to run to Walmart for all these things, also get some of those pizza rolls that Ernest loves so much, thank you” he instructed before also disappearing off upstairs, leaving a baffled Hugo still stood in the laundry room now holding a long list of junk food … way too much junk food.

Nightfall came, the living room had been transformed into what looked like a teenage girls slumber party; junk food, movies, nail kits, make up, face masks, everything a slumber party needed.

Hugo had been told he could enter if and only if he let someone do one little bit of pampering on him, to which the teacher quickly excused himself with the explanation of ‘papers to complete’, leaving Damien to sit in his very baggy and very comfortable … okay, maybe not his clothes but the wrestling shirts he ‘borrowed’ from Hugo looked so cute on him. Lucien sat beside him in some of his least emo pyjamas anyone had ever seen on the boy since they were covered in Mickey Mouse heads but who’s judging.

Soon, once the room was competed, Lucien hurried upstairs, knocking gently on the large door of Ernest's room to get his attention,

“Bitch, I need you to do two things, one, find some comfy clothes and two, come downstairs” the emo shouted through the door before waiting for a response which amazingly didn’t take as long as the door opened to reveal a grouchy looking mess,

“What are you trying to do, Goth?” Ernest mumbled, obviously trying to joke around even thought Lucien could tell he felt like absolute shit,

“It’s emo and I’m not trying to do anything, all I want to do is to try and help you feel better” Lucien explained before realising he was just going to have to reveal what was downstairs, “Me and Dad were talking and I found out that you like to sit and talk to him so, me, you and my Dad are going to sit downstairs, eat junk food and watch movies … sound good?” he asked, hoping it was going to work.

Lucien realised it definitely did when Ernest held up a single finger, closing the door in the emos face before appearing once again moments later in very baggy yet comfortable clothing,

“Well then, come on, I don’t have all day” Ernest grumbled, a small smile gracing his exhausted face as he obviously tried to crack another joke with his stepbrother. Slowly, he made his way down the grand staircase to the living room where Damien was waiting happily,

“Ernest, my dead, come sit” he said giddily, patting the stack of pillows and duvets beside him, allowing Ernest enough space to sit comfortably as he pressed play on the movie, one of Ernest's and Damien's guilty pleasures, Descendants,

“Descendants, junk food and being lazy … you trying to butter me up, pops?” Ernest chuckled weakly as he sat down, getting himself comfortable between his family, he knew exactly what they were doing for him but maybe a little treat wouldn’t be too bad to indulge in.

A few hours, three descendants films and a lot of pampering later, the three of them were laid back, heads rested against the sofa as they spoke, Lucien's nails were drying, Damien had a face mask on and Ernest was staring, his ears were almost deaf to the world around him as the other two people in the room chatted away but he couldn’t bring himself to look away and join in, his gaze couldn’t move from the one thing in the room that haven’t been touched, the make-up. The young boy was silent, burning holes into the bag of brushes and surprises, until,

“Pops…” A meek whisper but was caught by the man it was directed to, causing the two to stop talking and sit up, removing the cucumbers from over his eyes,

“Yes my dear?” Damien asked as he watched the young boy slowly turn his gaze over to his,

“I’ve heard that … well, some girls at my school have said that …” the boy stuttered, trying to think of the best way to describe his strange request but he couldn’t, making the boy sigh and ask, “Can it feel good to put on make-up?” he finally asked, trying not to make eye contact.

Damien's eyes widened a little, out of everything he had prepared himself to answer, that wasn’t one of them,

“Well, it can, especially the brushes, the make-up itself can feel strange though” Damien answered before reaching over to the table the bag was laid, bring it over to them.

Ernest sat silently, watching him reach inside and pull out a large fluffy brush, leaning over and carefully sliding it across the boys cheek, earning a soft sigh of joy,

“Would you like me to put some on you?” the Victorian man asked as he rummaged through the seemingly bigger on the inside bag, revealing a few different contraptions and what looked like small torture devices. With a small, timid nod, the young Vega answered,

“Y-Yes please … if it’s not too weird” Ernest whispered, shuffling closer to Damien, all the while, Lucien watched with a happy smile, he knew this is exactly what his brother needed, maybe not just to relax but it was a relief to watch Ernest finally calm,

“Let’s get started then and don’t worry dear, I have the perfect colours for you … I may have possibly convinced your Father to do this once too” Damien chuckled softly, reminiscing as he grabbed the correct pieces he needed. Ernest closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt a cool liquid and soft brush move over his skin.

A while later and make-up flung everywhere, Damien sat back to admire his work as Ernest scrunched his face a little to get used to this new and very strange feeling of stuff covering his face,

“You look absolutely darling, it suits you” the Victorian said as he started to tidy the make-up away just as the grandfather clock behind then chimed midnight, “Oh dear, it is quite late and I need to start preparing food tomorrow, well, I guess I best wash this stuff off of my face and retire to bed, you boys can stay up a little longer if you wish, as long as you don’t make too much noise” Damien said as he slowly stood, stretching himself out before kissing both boys on the top of their heads, bidding them a good night.

Lucien continued to watch his Father head upstairs to his room before turning back to Ernest once he was no longer in sight but stopped at the scene before him,

“Ernest? What wrong?” he asked concerned, in front of him was Ernest, a boy well known for setting fire to the bushes outside his Fathers home, holding a mirror and sobbing into his hand, “Ernest, it’s okay, you can talk to me, what happening to you?”

As Ernest turned his head to look at the boy beside him, Lucien noticed the slight little wrinkles on the edge of his eyes, the same wrinkles his own Father got, which was all he needed to know exactly what was going through his brothers head and no matter what, he was going to show him just how much he still loved him through it all.

A few days went by, Lucien and Ernest had barely been in the house which, even if they wouldn’t admit it out loud, made both parents happy but also quite concerned for their sons whenever Lucien shrugged them off with quick reassurance of, ‘They’ll tell you on Thanksgiving, don’t worry dads’, before quickly running which wasn’t what the two men were hoping to hear but it seemed to ease both their minds for a while, at least until Hugo restarted his usual pacing around the kitchen as Damien cooked.

The night came quickly, Thanksgiving, the food was almost complete, the house smelt of perfectly roasted vegetables and mouth-watering deserts, the table decorated to Damien's specifications while Hugo was banished to sit and wait at the table, only problem was, two people were still missing, however, not too far away as just upstairs behind a single locked door were their pair of siblings, whispering cautiously,

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea” the young Vega questioned, obviously having a few seconds thought as they allowed Lucien to work his magic,

“It is a good idea … look, Dad and Pops aren’t going to hate you, they never could, they love you too much and anyway, I think your forgetting one vital thing and probably one of the biggest elephants in this house” Lucius argued, brushing through his siblings now unknotted hair, trying and praying to whatever deity out there to get it to style as the other sat quietly,

“And what’s that exactly?” they asked, watching in the mirror cautiously as Lucien spoke up with a soft chuckle,

“Damien” he placed the brush down as he expertly braided the surprisingly long hair in front of him and for the first time in months, the youngest Vega laughed,

Not too long later, Dinner was called, Hugo and Damien waited patiently in their respective seats just as footsteps descended the stairs but only a single pair of footsteps approaching the dining room. Both men turned curiously to see Lucien standing in the doorway but no one else,

“Lucien, where’s Ernest?” Hugo asked, seemingly becoming annoyed as well as worried over the whereabouts of his son,

“About that…” Lucien started, turning his gaze into the hall for a moment before quickly moving back to the stares of his parents, “Ernest won’t be joining us tonight … or ever again …” the young emo explained, quickly realising a long pause wouldn’t be the best option as he quickly stopped either one of his Fathers could protest, stepping further into the room, “Because someone new will be taking Ernest's place” just as he finished speaking, a tall figure walked into the room beside him, a long, tight fitting, pale orange cocktail dress swept the floor behind the person as their long braided hair lay over a single exposed shoulder.

The light of the room hit the persons face, capturing the perfectly applied make-up that sculpted their features beautifully and it was then they realised,

“Ernest?” they both asked, quite bewildered, watching the young Vega nervousness build up which did not go unnoticed by Lucien,

“Actually, may I introduce our newest addition to the Vega-Bloodmarch Family, Emily, Emily Dickinson Vega, my sister” he announced, wrapping a supportive arm around his sibling to give them some encouragement, “If it’s okay with her Fathers, she would very much like to join us for dinner?” Lucien asked softly, smile on his face as he waited for their parent’s reactions.

Unsurprising to Lucien, Damien was the first to move, wasting no time in in pushing his chair out from under himself to embrace his daughter,

“Oh, my dear, of course you can join us for dinner and for any other meals you want to” he whispered through tears he didn’t even know were running down his face, “now I understand the make-up, I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner, I never wanted you to feel scared to be who you are” he whispered, the scene in the Bloodmarch home was one to remember when Emily wrapped her arms around his step-father, holding onto him as if their lives depended on it, however, there was still only one other person they needed to complete this little family moment, Hugo.

Everyone slowly turned their heads to see the larger man carefully rising from his seat, moving around the ornate furniture to move closer to where his child stood, arms back by her side as she stood tall and strong,

“Dad, I know this is sudden but I’ve been hiding for so long, I didn’t know who I was but I saw Damien doing so many things that made me think, he showed me how happy he was, I saw the life of someone who was truly happy, all this” she gestured to herself as she continued, “made me realize who I really am and I’m sorry for not being able to tell you sooner … I know I ruined your life for years with all the stupid shit I did but all the stupid thoughts in my head, I was scared, alone, I-“ her rambling was cut short when a pair of quite muscular arms pulled her forward and into a tight but comforting embrace,

“You are my child, my flesh and blood, you are everything to me and I love you, never forget that, no matter who you are, you are a Vega” he reassured, whispering just loud enough for Damien and Lucien to hear the loving exchange of words as they both smiled proudly.

Soon enough, two smaller arms snaked their way around Hugo as a small sob echoed in the large room causing any existing space in the embrace to disappear as it tightened,

“I was so scared you would hate me, I was meant to be your son, the man of the hous-“ her hurtful words were stopped as she was carefully pushed backwards, a hand laid gently on her cheek, forcing her to blurrily look up at a smiling Hugo,

“You have always been my daughter, even if we didn’t know that until now, you were and always will be my baby girl” he explained, his voice soothing any doubt the young Vega had before the wrestling nerd added just one more sentence, “And I think being married to Damien is an automatic law that I accept whatever part of the LGBT you realise you’re apart of … I think I’d be a bit hypocritical if I didn’t accept you as my daughter” the taller man finished and after a few moments of silence, the room filled with giggles from the man in question,

“Your Fathers right” Damien managed to say through soft giggles, “Excuse my French but … I’d kick his ass if he didn’t” he smirked before quickly pushing the three of them towards the table, “Now, if you children, yes, I’m also talking about you too Hugo, don’t get to the table to eat, the food will go cold and I’ll lock the refrigerator as punishment” the Victorian man threatened as the Family rolled their eyes but obediently followed his orders, spending the rest of the night laughing, talking and finally, for the first time in a while, being a family.

#Dream Daddy #Maple Bay #Damien #Damien Bloodmarch #Hugo #Hugo Vega #Hugo x Damien #Damien x Hugo #VegaMarch #Lucien #Lucien Bloodmarch #Ernest #Ernest Vega #LGBT #Trans #Transgender #Trans Woman

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shittyysimblr · 5 years ago

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The Bachelor: Cyrus King (CLOSED)

Cyrus grew up ruinously wealthy, born with a silver spoon in his mouth type. 100% that spoiled little rich bitch. But rich successful parents aren’t always the best when it comes to actually raising their children. His father, Atticus King is the CEO of King Financial which is basically the next Rothschild bank at this point, and his mother Yvette King is the Chief of Medicine at Widenburg medical. His parents were more than happy to buy him anything he could have ever wanted but they never really had the time of day for him. They loved him, sure, but there are only so many hours in the day you know? He wasn’t really a priority for them, so he was basically raised by his family’s butler. Feeling neglected and definitely screaming out for someone to pay attention to him, he became your typical trust fund party boy pretty early on. Every time he went a little too far daddy’s money would bail him out, but he never really got what he was looking for.

Enter local well-known Casanova, Don Lothario. Don and Cyrus quickly became thick as thieves. Partying every night and not really doing much else. Don understood what he was trying to do and was more than happy to have someone come along for the ride with him. And Cyrus was more than happy to foot the bill for whatever Don wanted as long as they did it together. He doesn’t really remember a whole lot of his early twenty’s. It’s pretty much all a drug fuelled haze.

For most of his adolescence he thought of nothing but sex, drugs, and alcohol. All that changed about two years ago when he woke up on Don’s bathroom floor after a particularly long bender. He realized that while he definitely didn’t want to be like his father, he also wasn’t so sure he wanted to be like Don either. Trying to start over and fight his party boy ways is difficult but every day it gets a little easier. He’s been working on his music for a while now, slowly making a name for himself that doesn’t have anything to do with banks, hospitals, or scandals.

Links:

Playlist [x]

Pinterest [x]

some facts:

has a new zealand accent

32 years old

he has a little sister that he absolutely adores and will do anything for

former golden child turned party boy

he is pansexual

he met don in a club

he hit on him and when don explained that he was the straightest man alive cyrus asked him if he wanted to do some coke together in the bathroom

they’ve been best friends ever since

was actually heavily addicted to coke for years

he went to rehab, and he’s been clean for about a year and a half now

he still smokes sometimes, cigarettes and weed, but he’s trying to cut back

he used to work as a bartender but got fired for scamming bottles from the bar

he was also a roadie for thorne bailey before he made it big

thats how he found his love for music

really wants to travel the world

and actually remember what he did

is a terrible liar

like really bad

doesnt really think hes worth being loved

Entry Rules:

I’ll be choosing 7 sims

Males and Females!

No occults please

I’m Maxis Mix now shocking so use whatever. But no Alpha hair

Outfits: 1-2 everyday, formal, party, swimwear, and hot weather but if you want to do more I won’t stop you

Facts, description, bio all that shit! Do as much as you like!! I love when sims are super fleshed out but it’ll also help me better decide when choosing and when playing their character

The tentative deadline is April 4th

Tag me in your post! - (If I haven’t reblogged/liked it I most likely have missed it so tag me again or dm me!)

#ts4 bachelor challenge #ts4 bc #ts4 #sims 4 #cyrus king bachelor challenge #cyrus king #simblr #ts4 bc challenge #cyrusbc

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popunktomlinson · 5 years ago

Text

fall ‘19 rec

re-read:

Pull Me Under - zarah5 (140k)

AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.)

new:

Tell Me When You’re Ready (I’m Waiting) - insufferablelovebirds (17k)

When Harry's love letters to his old crushes get sent accidentally, one of his old crushes, Louis offers to help him fake a relationship but it gets complicated when feelings get involved.

Or an au loosely based off to all the boys I've loved before.

your rainbow will come smiling through - hazkaban (17k)

when harry isn't working at his stepfather's cafe, he's trying to make swim captain and trying to finish all his coursework on time. when he's not doing any of those things, he's talking to the boy he met on the oxford hopefuls subreddit. when they decide to meet, he's elated. he finally gets the chance to meet the boy he's been crushing on! when the day comes to meet his prince, he learns that his online crush is none other than louis tomlinson, captain of the football team and friend of his terrible stepbrothers. now harry has to decide whether telling louis the truth is the right choice or if it's better to just let sleeping dogs lie.

I’m A Man Who’s Got Very Specific Taste - patdkitten (4k)

“Birth control is getting expensive,” Louis repeats aloud to himself, focused on the medical bill he's just opened as he blindly locks back up his mailbox. “I could just stick with suppressants and condoms.” He continued, muttering to himself as he folded the bill back up. “It's not like I have a boyfriend or a mate or anything like that to merit continuing taking them.”

“Do you normally announce your sex life in front of the mailboxes?”

There's a strange alpha in the building that Louis calls home and he thinks maybe he'll make a proposition to the alpha. It goes a bit different than expected.

Love Isn’t Always on Time - messofgorgeouschaos (45k)

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

Sonic Sounds - glasscushion (6k)

"Harry takes a deep breath, suitably embarrassed, “I’m just really...” and he can’t say the obvious. He can’t just say really wet."

Harry loves feeling embarrassed. Louis is happy to help.

Sit Next To Me - allwaswell16 (12k)

Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) - indiaalphawhiskey (17k)

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

red hands - reveries_passions (132k)

a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.

My Favorite Word - lightswoodmagic (3k)

“Nah,” Niall replied, typing on his computer and gracefully ignoring Harry’s embarrassment. The grin remained though. “He has a pretty specific...type. You could go help him out, you know. Pretend to be his boyfriend.”

Harry choked on the water he’d just swigged, his face brighter red still when everyone in the library turned to stare at him.

Or, Louis’ ex boyfriend won’t leave him alone, so Harry steps in.

Welcome Back From The Friend Zone - 2tiedships2 (32k)

“As we are both aware,” Louis began. “You are continuously complaining about not having the kitchen appliances needed when you want to make some of those random recipes you find online. And your precious waffle maker died recently.”

“Where are you going with this, Lou?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We need to pretend we’re getting married and send out announcements to rich people. Like billionaires who don’t know who we are.”

Or the one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

No Turbulence Please - wetdandelions (5k)

It's just Harry's luck that his rut hits right before his concert when he's stuck on an airplane with his best friend as the only omega. Luckily, Louis doesn't mind helping him out. All for a good cause, of course.

Stay Forever - allwaswell16 (6k)

For the last year and a half, Harry has spent his coffee break at the same cafe every day, not because he loves their coffee, but rather because of the gorgeous omega behind the counter making the coffees. As a beta, he’s sure he doesn’t stand a chance with him, so he goes online to find as close a substitute as possible.

A camboy au

Into Always - jaerie (4k)

Harry finds his ex's knotting dildo and gets a little curious. Louis is more than willing to help out.

The End Should Be A Good One - bannanasandboots (43k)

It doesn't feel like falling in love, the way it had felt the first time around, easy, simple, almost like floating, wrapped up in a whirlwind of touches and kisses, late nights spent laughing breathlessly into each other's skin. This feels broken, complicated, like every move carries the weight of their past. Like the floorboards beneath them could collapse at any moment. This doesn't feel good.

Or, the one where Harry loses the love of his life on New Years Eve and finds him again, six months later, ready to open some poorly-stitched wounds.

Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) - flowercrownfemme (3k)

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

Hey, Mr. DJ - allwaswell16 (5k)

Harry really, really does NOT want to go out to a club tonight and be hassled by a bunch of alpha knotheads, but against his better judgement, he finds himself alone on the dance floor, barefoot, with an orange in his hand. This is all Niall's fault. At least the DJ is the most strikingly gorgeous alpha he's ever seen...

spice up your life - bottomlinson (9k)

After a conversation with his Uni friends, Harry worries that his relationship with Louis has lost it's spark.

(aka: an incredibly silly modern day love story ft. awkward boners, grumpy neighbours and Cosmopolitan sex tips.)

Falling All In You - dimpled_halo (16k)

Louis wins a contest to meet Harry Styles even though he doesn't consider himself a fan. What he doesn't expect is to win over the popstar's heart.

Floating - Snowy38 (56k)

There's places that you can go to get help. The doctor's, psychiatrists, psychologists and all that run in between. And then there's places that fall on the edge of those recognised institutions. Places that offer the kind of therapy that most medical boards would reject on the ground of ethics. That's the kind of place Louis Tomlinson needs. It's the kind of place he has found. And so he goes. To a sex therapist with an unorthodox way of curing...by actually having sex.That therapist just so happens to be Harry Styles.

Don’t Move In (Don’t Move Out) - 2tiedships2 (14k)

Only one more week and Harry would be living under the same roof. Gone would be Liam’s alpha scent, quickly replaced with Harry’s. All Harry. Louis was going to fucking die. You’d think Louis would be used to it by now, that Harry’s scent would simply fade into the background like Liam’s did. But Louis had a feeling he would simultaneously be living in Heaven and Hell once Harry moved in.

Blockheads (Building a home with you) - bitter_leaf (38k)

Louis is a no-nonsense contractor with a score to settle. Harry is an idealistic interior designer who just wants the world to be beautiful. When they decide to go on The Block, a reality TV show about renovating, they’re not prepared for what else they might build together…

unfinished:

Shake Me Down - AGreatPerhaps12 (206k)

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Fall Into Your Gravity - zarah5 (74k)

AU. In which Harry is an overnight pop sensation and Louis steals plants, Zayn pulls Liam's proverbial pigtails and Niall's really just pleased there are more girls for him.

And The a Bit - infinitelymint (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

#fics #read #fic rec #mine

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detroitbecomevenom · 6 years ago

Text

Investigated (2)

Pair: Miles Morales and Reader (you)

Summary: Y/n’s newspaper has gotten her fame even outside of her little school. her articles on Spider-Man are usually well received, well until someone not exactly fond of the masked hero gets a hold of one of them. Now Spider-Man, who is actually the reporter’s boyfriend, Miles Morales, must find a way to save her before it’s too late.

[This is a short series that I’ve written. The first part can be found through my masterlist. I can’t link anything because of the whole shadowbanning linked posts thing on this website lol.]

Y/n opened her eyes and lifted her head up, finally in control of her own vision. For a moment she had forgotten what had happened, then the memories rushed back as she found that she was stuck to a chair with tape over her mouth. This was the cliche situation that she only thought happened in fanfiction written by uneducated teenagers, but this was real.

There was a desk in front of her with nobody actually sitting at it, but she assumed that it belonged to whoever took her. The room seemed to be empty with the exception of herself so it could be possible that she could attempt an escape. She struggled with moving any part of her body other than her head, but that unfortunately made more noise than she had initially expected.

The door behind her opened and the person walked around her, sitting on the desk. Y/ns eyes widened with the sight of him: Wilson Fisk. He smiled, watching her panic in her chair. “Hello, sweetheart. Sorry about the big scene, but if you tell me what I need to know, you’ll be back home safe and sound as soon as you know it.” Y/n felt her heart drop into her stomach, what was she supposed to know?

Y/n raised her brows and peered down to tell him that she couldn’t really speak with the tape, without actually saying anything. He got the idea, peeling the tape off and sitting back on the desk. “What do you need to know?” she tried taking the path that kept herself safe, although she didn’t really have any big secrets that a crime lord would need to know.

Her cooperation brought a smile to his face. He pulled out a picture and unfolded it, showing her. “Who is this?” he asked, keeping the paper as still as he could for her. It showed Spider-Man in action. She was confused, “The person under the mask.” he clarified.

Anxiety built up quickly in Y/n’s heart, just like it would when she takes a test that she didn’t study for. This could possibly be a life or death thing here, yet she had no idea how to win the life option. She took a deep breath, knowing her answer wouldn’t make things better, “I don’t know.” she shut her eyes, waiting for his reaction.

“That’s what I figured you’d say,” he gloated, watching her carefully open her eyes. He searched around the desk and picks up a pair of scissors, standing up and walking towards her. Y/n felt herself tense up, her own body trying to figure out what he was going to do with the sharp object he now wielded. She shook while he combed through her hair with his own hand, stopping at around her shoulders and cutting the section off. “Now, I’m gonna keep cutting until you think it’s time, to tell the truth.” He took another section, the sound of the blading closing in made tears form in her eyes.

He cut again, “I am telling the truth, I don’t know who he is,” she pleaded, hearing the sound once again, knowing that this wouldn’t last long and the next thing could be much worse. “I’ve only met him once and it was a long time ago,” she added.

The last cut was made and Y/n looked on the ground to see her previously long hair all over the dirty floor. She felt like she was on an episode of Law and Order, but this time she wasn’t sure if the cops were going to save her. A tear dropped onto her shirt, breaking for the first time after she had told herself to be strong. “That’s the thing, though.” he knelt down in front of her, “I still don’t believe you.” He caught a tear from her cheek and wiped it on her shirt. “I’m going to come back later and if you decide that you’re gonna stop telling stories, then nothing else will happen to you. If you think you’re going to try and be a hero, I will warn you now that you’ll only be dreaming of safety.” Fisk locked the door behind him, leaving Y/n in a completely dark room to cry.

~~~

“Right now marks twenty-four hours ever since the incident that happened in Brooklyn, New York. The mayor has stated publicly that he is safe as well as recovering from the shooting and everything is being done to find Y/n L/n as soon as possible.” the news reporter read off of teleprompter with a straight face, making sure that he didn’t say anything wrong. “Latest reports from the PDNY say that the shooter has been identified and is a known affiliate with the crime lord and recent prison escapee Wilson Fisk. Now, we don’t know why someone so big in the crime ring would want a high school student that simply tries to help her own community, but we can only guess for now. What do you think?” he turned to the man next to him with the same look as him.

“The most popular thing that I’ve seen from online theorizers was that Y/n was a symbol of peace and Fisk is making a statement. Whatever the reason, however, we still have a heavy heart for this girl. We have no idea what she may be going through, let alone her friends and family.”

~~~

Y/n felt as if she couldn’t remember a time where she wasn’t stuck in a dark room fearing for her life. She somehow fell asleep after many hours of staring at everything on the desk in front of her, studying it. Her senses elevated when she heard the door opening, yet there was a new guy that entered. He carried a plate with a waffle and bottled water, “Boss doesn’t want you dead, so here.” he placed the plate on her lap and stepped back.

She raised her brows at him, glancing to her restrained arms and the plate. Was this guy really that dense? Don’t get her wrong, the last thing she wanted was to be demeaningly hand-fed by a stranger, but the situation called for it unless he actually wanted to release a hand. At this point, she would rather have been tortured than having food shoved down her throat.

The whole process was almost dehumanizing and Y/n quietly praised when he had left, although having food was a relief as well. Now she had to wait again, which seemed like the real torture as she started to lose her own mind in the silence and darkness. Sometimes she would hear the door opening, but then realizing that the sound was merely in her head. She thought about Miles, how worried he might’ve been. She had no idea exactly how long she was gone so he could’ve been forced to go to school without her. She thought about Spider-Man, whoever he really was, and if he was trying to find her.

This process went on for days, each time Fisk would come in looking for answers that Y/n didn’t have. Each day got worse, from getting cut and being forced to take LSD to just straight up getting beaten. Today was strangely simple, with him dumping ice cold water over her, then proceeding to ask the million dollar question.

“Are you ready to cooperate today?” If Y/n ever said that she wasn’t almost petrified with fear at that exact moment in time, that would be the biggest lie she would have ever told. She looked up to the man with the straightest expression she could, although the uncertainty of what was about to happen to her now was eating away at her soul.

“I told you, I have no idea who he is,” she raised her voice, instantly regretting it. For a smart girl, she was a real dumbass in situations like this that could literally get her killed. Fisk smirked, shaking his head.

“I offer you freedom for one name, yet you still turn me down. It’s a shame, you had so much potential,” he walked back towards the door, only to let another man in. This new guy had a professional camera and a computer attached to it. He turned Y/n’s chair to face the camera and adjusted it as if he’d done it several times before.

“You know what to do, sir.” the man was typing away on his computer, which Y/n assumed had something to do with the camera’s function. She felt duct tape being slapped against her mouth, something that she hadn’t felt since the first day she was here. She looked at herself on the screen that showed the camera’s view and it felt like the person staring back wasn’t her at all. Her hair was short and eyes bloodshot from lack of proper sleep, this wasn’t her.

Fisk stood in between Y/n and the camera, probably for a dramatic reveal. The record light turned on red and he began talking. “Good morning Brooklyn. Hold your applause, as I can’t really hear you. This message is most likely not for you, but you can help spread it.” he spoke in a way that you would only hear while taking one of those standardized tests on the computer. “With that being said, Spider-Man needs to show up at the address shown on the screen by tonight or there will be consequences.”

He stepped to the side slowly for a dramatic reveal of Y/n, who stared longingly into the lens. She was cold, wet, and exhausted, almost the exact opposite of who she thought she had been on the daily. She felt his hand touch the top of her head. “Your little friend is waiting, so why not stroll on by alone. No cops or all they’ll see is a dead body,” he cocked a gun and held it to the side of her head. She shut her eyes tightly, knowing that he wouldn’t really shoot her even though the threat was still very valid. “Cut it,” he told the guy behind the camera and Y/n watched as the red light went out.

Y/n was conflicted. She didn’t want to be the reason that Spider-Man was killed, but she also wanted to stay alive for at least a little longer. She wanted to see Miles again and feel his lips against hers. If the beloved hero dies just so she could have a nice life, would she even be able to tolerate that big of a weight?

Fisk had left her and the camera guy alone in the room. He was in the process of putting his equipment away when they locked eyes. “You’re a pretty little one, aren’t you?” he teased, zipping the camera case shut. “It’s too bad you’ll be killed soon.” With that, he shut the door.

It had been a few hours since the recording and she watched the door open again, this time with Fisk and a few guys. “It’s moving day, sweetheart,” he chimed as the guys started to free her hands and legs from the chair that she hadn’t moved from in such a long time. When they finally stood her up, her own legs gave out on her, making her fall into the man next to her.

Her own exhausted led to cooperation, which made her willingly get in a suspicious van without resistance. All she wanted to do was sleep, or maybe take a shower, but mostly sleep. The vehicle stopped and Y/n was once again pulled out to the middle of some warehouse, waiting for who she assumed to be Spider-Man.

#into the spider verse #spider-man #spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales angst #spider-man x reader #spiderman: into the spiderverse

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tsukkeilate · 6 years ago

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Love Scenario

Summary: “Before we wrap things up, there’s a question that everyone’s dying to know about.” The interviewer started, making Oikawa curious enough to lean forward from his seat. “Oh?” “People have been asking if there’s a special someone. Everyone’s at speculation ever since you posted that photo in Instragram with a heart-warming caption and left many jealous and/or soft.” Pairing: Oikawa Tooru / Kageyama Tobio A/N: Oikage Winter Week day 2! I’m late sorry, had to do my case study (which I’m not yet done hahaha rip) Warnings: OOC, no beta, rushed ending

A man jumped on to the stage, making the crowd roar. He was wearing sparkly black tuxedo and a cheerful smile on his face. The camera zooms in to get a view of him better. The man, noticing the camera’s attention, winked and made finger hearts that triggered the crowd to be rambunctious. As the background starts to play, and the man got into position. The crowd started chanting when the first few lines of the song was delivered, screaming when the man went down the stage to hold hands with some of his fans.

After few moments of the fan service, he strutted back on stage wherein he started to dance as he sang, getting down on the floor and grinding his hips seductively, which the crowd lost it, yelling various of obscenities that include impregnation and profanities; definitely not safe for children to hear.

“Wow, Tooru is truly amazing, don’t you think Jon?” The female reporter live on the television said, few seconds after the performer finished his segment.

“No doubt Gale. He turns even the straightest man gay.” The male reporter beside her commented. He seemed to pause before adding,

“I think I’m gay.”

“We all are, Jon. We all are.”

Kageyama watched with interest as his senpai of two years charmed the people on stage with his performance. His moves are amazing, he thought idly as he slurped his noodles and took a bite of his chicken, making even the male reporter gay with it. Though he blanched at the finger heart and wink in the beginning; that man really thought he looked cool with that. Kageyama thought it made him more pretentious than usual.

At the middle of the show, his phone alerted him of a text, no doubt coming from him.

Annoying Alien Did you see my performance today?

He rolled his eyes and wiped his fingers clean with tissue.

Me Yes.

The response came immediately.

Annoying Alien The finger heart and wink are for you! <3

Seriously? This man got no shame.

Me It’s disgusting, Oikawa-san. Please don’t do it again. It makes you look pretentious than usual.

After pressing send, Kageyama diverted his attention from his phone and towards the television. His favorite band is starting to play and Oikawa could wait later. He started cheering for them as he watched, going as far as doing their fan chant that perfectly synced with the people at the live venue. Once their performance was done, however, he went to check his phone that got numerous texts he received from Oikawa.

Annoying Alien Mean! This is why you’re not cute Tobio-chan

Annoying Alien Also what happened to Tooru-san?

Annoying Alien It’s okay to admit you like it you know~ it’s for you

Annoying Alien Hey don’t forget to watch my interview later okay~

Annoying Alien shiratori must be playing so you’re not replying

Annoying Alien I’m much better than them though

Annoying Alien Tobio-chan, pay attention to me :<

Annoying Alien I’ll pester you more

Annoying Alien …..

Annoying Alien Seriously, reply to me you little brat

Me Are you done being childish, Oikawa-san?

Annoying Alien So you’re alive! Don’t forget to watch my interview okay?

Annoying Alien Also I’ll be coming home late

Me Ok.

Annoying Alien Why do I even put up with you honestly…

“Good Evening everyone. Today we have a very special guest. He is a model, singer song writer and an actor who is currently swooning the hearts of everyone. Without further ado, may I call on Tooru!” The female interviewer introduced and the audience started cheering.

Oikawa came into the set dressed in smart casual, waving his hands at everybody and giving them his award-winning smile. Due to this, the cheers started to amplify that Kageyama lowered down the volume of his television to avoid becoming deaf.

Fans are a force to be reckoned with.

Oikawa sat opposite from the interviewer, facing directly to the camera. The interviewer, who decided to let the cheers die down before asking questions, smiled at him. Once the crowd settled, she wasted no time hammering out the pre-approved questions at Oikawa.

“So Tooru, I heard your latest album was a success! It reached the Bilboard’s Top 50 in less than a week. What do you have to say about that?” The reporter asked him, smiling.

Oikawa laughed at that, “well, I have to thank my fans for it. They’re always the reason behind my every success. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be here conducting an interview with someone as prestigious as you.” He said, smiling at the blush and charmed look on the interviewer’s face.

He then turned to the audience, “Thank you all for your support. I love you guys!” He exclaimed, making a heart with his arms above his head.

Kageyama snorted when the audience started screaming. He even heard a ‘We love you too Tooru-sama!’ somewhere at the back. These people are being fooled by that gentleman demeanor. Oikawa is anything but.

Again, the interviewer paused to let the audience calm themselves before continuing. The questions were easily answered. Yet each time, Oikawa find ways to make the audience rowdier than before. Kageyama swears the interviewer’s slowly losing her cool and would join the cheering herself if the cameras weren’t trained at them.

Kageyama scoffed at her blatant puppy crush. He made side comments each question until the last one rendered him speechless.

“Before we wrap things up, there’s a question that everyone’s dying to know about.” The interviewer started, making Oikawa curious enough to lean forward from his seat.

“Oh?”

“People have been asking if there’s a special someone. Everyone’s at speculation ever since you posted that photo in Instragram with a heart-warming caption and left many jealous and/or soft.”

The said picture was posted on the LED screen behind them, which Kageyama recognizes. It was him buried under the duvet, his black hair peeking out as Oliver their cat was curled beside him. Kageyama felt his face flushed when he read the caption.

okwtr_0720 My heart, my beloved.

“I will be putting those speculations at rest. Yes, I do have special someone.” He held up his hand to silence the audience that was steering, “though I will not give out their name, for privacy reasons, I just want this person to know how much they mean to me.”

“They’re the person whom I would want to spend the rest of my days with, no matter the circumstances. Even if they’re cheeky, rude and uncute sometimes, there’s nothing I would trade in this world just to see them smile. Their happiness is mine as well.”

He had a soft smile on his face and a gentle look in his eyes that reminded Kageyama the day they got together, when he was a bumbling mess over the spontaneous confession to his senpai at his graduation. The joy he felt when he received the third button from Oikawa’s school uniform and the fireworks he saw when Oikawa pressed his lips against his. It was one of the happiest moments he have and one of the moments he holds close to his heart.

Oikawa was just about to head home when his phone chimed several times. He fished them out of his pockets to see who sent them. A smile bloomed on his face as he read the texts sent.

‘He’s so cute.’

Tobio-chan That’s playing dirty, Tooru-san. You’re so unfair.

Tobio-chan …

Tobio-chan I love you too.

Tobio-chan Thank you for putting up with me Tooru-san.

Me <3

#oikage day #oikage week #oikage #kageyama tobio #oikawa tooru #musician au #celebrity au #tsukkeilatewrites #hq!!fanfic

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seraph-novak · 6 years ago

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For You

Tyrus Month ~ August 25th, “Muffins”.

Also available on AO3 ♥

Every day, without fail, TJ would get Cyrus a chocolate chocolate chip muffin from the cafeteria. It was a cute and thoughtful gesture that always made Cyrus smile, but Andi and Buffy were convinced that it was more than just a simple act of friendship.

“He never gets us any muffins,” Andi pointed out one day, “and we’re supposed to be his friends now.”

Cyrus shrugged. “He knows I love muffins... They’re how we first met!”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, “but no one asked him to be your daily muffin delivery man. It’s almost creepy how he never forgets to get you one.”

“It’s not like it requires much effort for him,” Cyrus argued. “All he’s gotta do is stroll up and take one. Everyone in this school is too terrified to stand up to him.”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “It still feels weird to me.”

“Yep,” Andi agreed. “There’s definitely more to this situation than meets the eye.”

Cyrus laughed. “You guys are overthinking it. TJ’s just a decent person, alright?”

“But what if it’s more than that?” Andi asked. “Wouldn’t that be great? I mean, you do like him, right?”

“Of course I like him... But TJ is like the straightest guy ever. There’s no point in getting my hopes up over something that’s never gonna happen.”

Buffy frowned at something behind them. “Speak of the devil,” she said. “What’s wrong with him?”

Cyrus and Andi turned in their seats to find TJ slowly approaching their table, his face red and his breathing laboured. Cyrus immediately grabbed his friend’s arm and helped him sit down.

“Are you okay?” he asked, panic rising in his chest. “You look like you’re about to faint!”

TJ waved him off. “I’m fine, I’m fine... Just a little outta breath.”

“What happened to you?”

“I had History,” he said with a grimace. “My class is on the opposite side of the school from the cafeteria, so I had to run to get you a muffin before they all ran out.”

Cyrus lifted an eyebrow. “Couldn’t you just steal one, like you normally do?”

“Steal one?”

“You know, jump to the front of the queue?”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“Huh?”

TJ ducked his head, suddenly bashful. “You looked so happy when I helped you get that muffin the first time we met... I guess it made me realise how sad you must’ve been every time I butted in and stole one.” He shrugged. “So, now I queue like everyone else.”

Andi and Buffy exchanged smug smiles.

“You mean to tell me you’ve been running around and waiting in lines every day for months, just to make sure Cyrus gets a muffin with his lunch?” Buffy barked a laugh. “You are so whipped.”

TJ blushed. “It’s not that big a deal, you know? It’s just a stupid muffin.”

“No, it’s not,” Cyrus said, his voice a breathless whisper. His heart was thumping like crazy as he stared at the boy sitting next to him. “Did you really do all of that for me?”

TJ fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. “You probably think I’m a freak, right?”

“Why would I think that?”

“Well, you know... Guys don’t do that sort of thing for their friends.”

“So?” Cyrus smiled. “That doesn’t make you a freak, TJ.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh.”

TJ sagged with relief, and Cyrus laughed. He’d never wanted to kiss him so badly before in his life, so he did; he cupped TJ’s face and softly kissed him on the lips, grinning at the slack-jawed expression of shock on his friends’ faces.

“Did that really just happen?” Andi squealed.

Buffy covered her face. “I’m afraid so.”

Cyrus was too focussed on TJ to respond to Buffy’s apparent disgust. The other boy was still sat there with his eyes closed and his lips pursed, completely caught in the moment of their kiss.

“TJ?” Cyrus gently prodded him in the shoulder. “Are you alive?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!” TJ’s eyes fluttered opened. “Definitely not. I just... Why did you do that?”

Cyrus smiled shyly. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

TJ’s confusion morphed into fondness, a dopey grin tugging at his freshly kissed lips. “You’re welcome, Underdog.”

On the opposite side of the table, Buffy pretended to gag. “I can already tell you guys are gonna be one of those sickeningly adorable couples.”

“Stop ruining the moment,” Andi hissed.

“They’re putting me off my lunch!”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“You would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cyrus tuned out his friends’ bickering and smiled at TJ, sliding closer across the bench until their shoulders were touching. “Do you wanna split it?” he asked, nodding at the muffin sitting on the table.

TJ brushed his hand and grinned. “Sure.”

#tyrus month 2018 #tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #andi mack #tyrus fics

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theproofinthisong · 6 years ago

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the more i think about shawn mendes’ situation the more i’m convinced he’s gay. i know he’s under island records (universal music) and not sony but all the big companies use the same old AWFUL trashy techniques. look at the way he’s been promoted and talked about. tons of gay people have picked on his way of talking/acting around men (one example? troye sivan at the met gala? niall?) and his mannerisms and i’m in no way stereotyping but us gay people just know. he got that aura. his private life has been HEAVILY publicized when he always said he was a laid back/reserved person that isn’t a fan of fame (hello harry and louis), made sure his music was the first topic to be talked about and not his fake romances (hello harry and louis), is pretty much genderless in his songs (hello harry and louis), talks about love in a very DEEP WAY (hello harry and louis), was ALWAYS a supporter of the lgbt community while being depicted as the STRAIGHTEST MAN alive (hello louis), is seen as a womanizer/someone taking advantage of his female fanbase (hello harry), had very stunty relationships (just look at the fake pap pics with hailey, my skin is crawling, also hello harry and louis), is only denying stuff in print interviews (hello louis), shades smug women in his songs (check out the lyrics of his song queen, also hello harry) embraces his feminine side (hello harry and louis).

i could on for days my point is...i think shawn is being closeted by his label. just like with 1D, the general public is convinced he wants to sleep with half of his fanbase when i’m pretty sure the boy is a fan of commited relationships and also very gay. it’s super sad and heartbreaking because his team is using the same tactic as harry and louis’ labels and most people fall for the bullshit when it doesn’t make sense whatsoever. i’ve seen many larries talking about shawn and i’m not surprised because we know how to sense fakery from a mile away. it’s truly heartwrenching how homophobic the industry can be and i still can’t believe his awful team is actively doing that to him, just like the azoffs/simon are controlling louis and harry’s public images and being all around super vile and demonic. sadly i know harry and louis aren’t alone in this and honestly if you still think in 2018 closeting is something the “tinhats invented to make their ship happen”, you’re the one who’s deluded, brainless and most of all, bigoted.

#shawn mendes #my posts

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stereksummerexchange · 7 years ago

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To live where others merely dream

@so-many-arrows | AO3 - I hope you’ll like it (❁°͈▵°͈)

by @kinsbournescream

Inspired by a movie but understandable without having seen it.

“He gave me loaded dice!” Derek exclaims in desperation, showing said dice to the crowd of curious passerby and the sailors they just tried to scam, “Guard! Arrest him!” he points at Stiles with his other hand.

“You dare to impugn my honor?” Stiles yells back after a dramatic gasp, a hand on his chest, “He was the one who was cheating! Arrest him!” He pushes against Derek’s chest who lets himself stumble a few steps back for show. The only real way for Stiles to have the upper hand is not with brute strength.

“Are you calling me a thief?” Derek screeches, a tone he would never be caught using in any other occasion than fake fighting Stiles for an escape. A situation that, really, happens way too often. “You better get these sailors money back or I’ll…I’ll…,” he looks around and finds a big guard in shining armor right behind him. He grabs his sword and turns to Stiles in the same motion, before the guard can react, and haughtily exclaims, “En garde!” This is is favorite part.

“En garde yourself!” Stiles answers petulantly, stealing a sword to another guard but ending up with a knife instead. Rectifying his mistake quickly, he begins to step to the side so they round each other and get closer to the only end of the plaza that’s empty of people.

Which is: a wall. They cross swords a few times before Derek jumps on a barrel, a pile of crates, and then is on the roof of said wall. “You fight like my sister!” he taunts, looking down at Stiles with the straightest face he can manage. Cora would kick his ass for the comment, but she left for the new world months ago so Derek feels pretty safe saying this.

“I fought your sister! That’s a compliment!” Stiles laughs, following. It’s true too, that he fought Cora. And lost. Utterly crushed. He bit the dust. All of that and then the following endless teasing.

Stiles, with his usual grace when he’s not minding his own body -like right now when he’s having so much fun- slips on a tile and falls on his ass on the roof. Derek, fast on his feet, advances and puts the point of the sword under Stiles’ chin. Stays there for a few seconds, smirk on his face while Stiles playfully glares at him. Then he withdraws and bows to the crowd whose cheer is devolving into confused questions.

“It seems to be a draw,” he says to them when Stiles is up and standing right behind him. They throw the swords down.

“Adios,” they say in unison, salute. Then jump on the other side.

Derek tries to understand how in the hell they ended up where they are. That is to say, in the middle of the ocean on a small boat with a horse and no provisions.

So they jumped from that wall. Yes. Then they ran. Okay. Then they hid behind some crates on the docks. So far so good. That’s routine, that’s the kind of trouble they always end up into -the kind of trouble Stiles always seems to pull them into anyway. Not that Derek doesn’t like it. He’s an active participant in trouble. He’s also an active participant in bitching about it, but it’s his most attractive feature, or so he heard. From Stiles, actually.

It’s just that trouble landed them locked in a cell on Gerard freaking Argent’s ship. The ruthless conquistador who’s family had taken part in the inquisition. But that seemed to just make Stiles’ day because–

Rewinding a little: the thing that led to the sailors discovering the loaded dice scam had been a map of dubious origins supposedly leading to El Dorado. The map looked shady and not informative at all, but Stiles eyes lit up: El Dorado, city of gold and magic and, according to legends, where all curses could be broken.

And, well, as it happens, Derek is cursed.

And, also, as it happens, conquistadors usually sail to the new world and incidentally the mystical city’s continent.

So, Stiles’ eyes lit up and it frankly warmed Derek’s heart because Stiles is always taking Derek’s problems at heart and making them his own, but then it’s not like it’s a painful curse, just an uncomfortable one. And contrary to popular belief, the curse is not him being a werewolf -for the people believing in them in the first place anyway.

The curse is that apart from his strength, a little bit of his healing factor and his glowing eyes -very useful to freak people out which Derek uses and abuses because it’s just so damn funny okay- Derek is basically human.

No heightened senses, no shift -full or otherwise- no mighty roar.

He’ll deny to his dying day trying to howl and making a wet kitten sound. Stiles won’t let him forget about it, but he’ll keep denying it.

Back to the locked up on a ship situation, because that’s when it got really weird. Like, Stiles baiting Argent’s war horse with an apple and asking it to bring them a pry bar. And before Derek even had time to roll his eyes at the ridicule of the situation, the horse bringing them back the keys.

So, yeah, basically, that’s how they ended up in the middle of the ocean on a small boat with a horse and no provisions. And no land in sight.

They really should’ve thought this through.

They’re back to back, the horse behind Derek because he -it’s a he according to Stiles- creeps Derek a little with how he seems to understand everything they say.

The situation is pretty dire for a moment.

Derek considers his options. He could take his feelings for Stiles to the grave. Metaphorically, because there’s no graveyard in the Atlantic. Or, he could confess everything: his annoyance when he first met Stiles on the streets and the kid wouldn’t leave him alone, the crush that built up two days in, the full blown love two weeks in. Five years of unconditional love now.

But then, Derek thinks, they could still survive this. And in his book, he’s better dead than alive and embarrassed. Or, he’s better alive and not embarrassed than dead. That sounds more reasonable.

“Derek?” Stiles asks after a long silence. Derek hums in acknowledgment. “Did you ever think we would end like this?”

“Well…,” Derek starts, thinks about it. “The horse is a surprise.”

Stiles laughs. Then he says, more seriously, “I really wanted to find El Dorado.”

“Yeah, I know,” Derek answers, and it makes him smile despite it all. “But it's– it’s okay. You made my life…an adventure,” he hides his trembling voice behind a manly cough.

“Sand,” Stiles states. And, what? What kind of response is that, when Derek just got more emotional in one sentence than in all his years since he met Stiles?

“What.”

“Sand!” Stiles repeats before straightening up, making Derek fall back in the process, and then he’s out the boat and yelling, “Sand!” like a mad man. But then Derek realizes, Stiles is out the boat and that means…

“Land!” he exclaims in turn, and soon he’s running out himself, laughing. The horse is jumping up and down all around them both.

And then there’s a crack. And Derek and Stiles looks down at what Stiles just crushed under his foot. A skull. With the rest of the skeleton pierced by a rusty sword.

“Or, you know…,” Stiles squeals, “the boat.” He points behind his shoulder with his thumb, nodding to himself and backing up.

Derek swallows. “Yup,” he agrees, and turns on his heels to prepare the boat. Wherever they washed up, there’s probably a civilized city up or down from here that they can get to by boat. Not being killed seems like a good option. Derek likes it. He votes for it.

But Stiles is not following him. He’s still on the same spot, looking at the jungle with a thoughtful look that Derek does not like at all. It’s the kind of look that got them chased by a hoard of angry cats one night. Stiles is reaching inside his tunic and Derek knows where this is going.

“Derek! Derek this has to be– this is fate, this is…Derek, look!” Stiles holds up the map and points at a big rock that could either look like a bird head or a drunk turtle. It’s not a comparison that Derek pulls out of nowhere too.

“No,” he says, then sighs because he already knows Stiles will win this. But damn if Derek won’t make it hard on him.

“Derek!” Stiles turns to him and uses that begging voice that almost always makes Derek cave. “Look! It’s the start of the map! We’re so close! We just have to follow the trail!” Stiles bounces on the spot, looking everywhere and glancing pleadingly at Derek.

“What trail?” Derek asks in an already defeated tone, crossing his arms on his chest.

Stiles runs to the thick edge of the jungle and smacks head first in a big rock that was hidden by leaves. He falls on his ass and Derek steps up with worry before Stiles gets up again and starts running again.

“Okay, not that one,” Stiles shouts in his excitement, looking at the map instead of where he’s going, “but this way I’m sure!” And then, miraculously, when he jumps between the trees he doesn’t brain himself on anything else.

Derek shares a look with the horse. And the horse, he swears to god, the horse shrugs before following Stiles. Derek blinks. Shakes his head to try and wake up. When it fails, he shrugs too and goes after Stiles and the horse.

“Just remind me whose brilliant idea this was?” Derek grumbles, stomping through the unknown jungle completely naked. Stiles runs after him in the same undressed sate and Derek can pretend he’s okay with it while Stiles is half hidden under water but he really can’t deal with it in the open air.

It’s just hard, okay? And he’s not talking about– he’s talking about his feelings and the fact that Stiles is way more good looking than he realizes himself.

“The swimming or the travel?” Stiles asks, out of breath, cursing when he stubs his toe on a root, “Because pleading guilty on the trip, though I really didn’t plan on us being trapped on a ship, right, but the swimming was definitely you and your frankly disturbing tendency to want to groom yourself every chance you get.”

“That’s called taking a bath, Stiles,” Derek deadpans even if he’s slightly amused. Plus, Stiles’ got a point. He was the one that suggested they clean up, though Stiles is the one that wanted them to relax in the water.

In the end, maybe it’s no one’s fault that their clothes got stolen by a bunch of monkeys that thought they were funny. Derek just wishes for his awesome sense of smell to be back right about now because these are the only clothes they have and he doesn’t want to ride on Roscoe’s back naked.

He still has no idea why Stiles called the horse Roscoe. But he did, so. That’s a thing now.

On cue, the horse pokes his head through a thick bunch of gigantic ferns, Derek’s shirt held between his teeth and the rest haphazardly thrown onto his own back. The intelligence of this animal is still uncanny. Derek takes his shirt and yanks it on.

“Come on,” Stiles chuckles, hopping on the spot to put his pants back on -thank god for small mercies- “stop being such a sour wolf.”

“I was led to believe it’s actually my most distinctive personality trait, which is, and I quote, essential to any famous duo of adventurers,” Derek shoots back, already starting to walk back to camp.

“That’s true, I wonder who told you such a clever thing,” Stiles says, then adds, “what’s mine then?” and he must know what Derek’s answer will be or he would have said something himself.

“Idiocy,” Derek smiles. Stiles just laughs.

“Yeah, yeah, say that again when we’ve found El Dorado!”

Derek doesn’t say anything about his doubts that the city is even real, because he knows Stiles has the same.

Derek slumps down next to the fire and Stiles does the same opposite him, and as he looks at the beautiful, kind, clever, cheeky man bathed in firelight, he thinks that he would follow him to the edge of the world.

They follow more rocks, some weird butterflies that fly out conveniently at the right time, a big ass waterfall, and then Roscoe is walking on a log in thick fog, no idea where they’re going at the moment.

So it really shouldn’t come as a surprise when the log cracks and there’s absolutely zero ground underneath.

Derek curls around Stiles who was riding in front of him, trying to protect him from the uncontrolled fall through branches, but when they roll on the hard ground at the bottom they both smack their head on something and all Derek knows is dizziness, white creeping on the edge of his vision, and the headache of the century.

He learned all about hangovers after his curse. This is a reminder he could’ve gone without.

He comes back to full consciousness faster than Stiles, unsurprisingly, but he doesn’t move a finger because he finds out then that Stiles is half sprawled on top of him. And, well, he wants to enjoy the that for a second.

It’s just that– he’s never been able to tell Stiles how he feels because he’s too worried of ruining everything. He knows that he could very well live without him if things go bad, he just doesn’t want to. And Stiles is flirty with everyone so Derek can’t ever let himself hope when the flirting is directed at him.

Plus, he’s got way more than easy smiles and winks from Stiles, he’s got his friendship. He’s got the bad days and the awesome days, he knows Stiles past and he shares his present, as cheesy as that sounds. They’ve had each other’s backs for years and sometimes it’s like they share one mind.

But Derek draws the line at sharing Stiles’ bed even if it would be totally platonic, avoids at all cost seeing Stiles naked, and certainly keeps his feelings in check.

So right now, he indulges himself in some harmless contact while protecting Stiles from the cold hard ground.

But then, when he studies the massive block of rock that they hit, he sees that it’s definitely not natural. Unless rocks started coming in perfect rectangular shapes standing straight up from the ground with an artistic carving up front.

Even upside down, the picture is familiar. Derek gently pushes Stiles and stands up, takes out the map from his own tunic because he didn’t trust Stiles with it after he let it be snatched by furious wind and they spent two hours running after it. In circles.

He glances from the carving to the drawing on the paper. Two persons riding a snake’s back. He hums. Goes to look behind the sculpture. Then he crouches next to Stiles.

“Stiles, hey,” he shakes him, then again when Stiles groans. “Stiles. We found it.”

“Wha’?”

“El Dorado. We found it.”

Stiles sits up abruptly, keel over to the side before Derek pushes him back up, and then he fully realizes what Derek just said.

“What? We found it?” he exclaims, excited that they’ve reached their goal.

“Yep, we did,” Derek nods with a satisfied expression.

“Where is it?” Stiles gets up and starts looking everywhere.

“Just. Just there,” Derek gets behind him and turns him to the giant slab of rock.

“I don’t understand! Where is it? Behind? Is this the door?”

“No, no. This is it. El Dorado. Is. A. Rock,” Derek enunciates calmly. Stiles stays speechless for a second before he runs around to see for himself. And just behind the sculpture there…absolutely nothing. Just an empty space before a waterfall that is not even that impressive.

“I, uh…,” Stiles says awkwardly, then he shrugs. He looks disappointed but not overly sorry to have come all this way for nothing. It’s not like they don’t know how to feed themselves and there’s water in abundance and okay, the storm the other night was a bit of a pain, but overall they haven’t done too bad for themselves here.

That’s what Derek knows is going through Stiles mind. He thinks more or less the same, but this was Stiles’ idea all along so he’s going to milk the embarrassment for the rest of his life.

“Okay, so…,” Stiles rubs at his neck and turns to Derek with a sheepish smile, “I guess we go back to the place we camped at last night?” he offers, one shoulder raised, head tilted to inspire sympathy.

“You’re on fire duty tonight,” Derek states, then thinks and adds, “and hunting duty too.” Then he gets on Roscoe’s back. Stiles pretends to consider, but really he knows he owes Derek at least one night of laying around with his feet up. So he eventually nods and gets on the horse.

Of course, because that’s their life, that’s the exact moment a girl with fiery red hair chooses to appear out of thin air right in front of them, run into Roscoe head first, and fall on her back dropping to the ground what she was carrying in her arms. The thing rolls out of the cloth that was protecting it and that, right there, is a freaking glowing ball of– of…sparks.

That thing. It can only be magic.

The day gets weirder. Only a second after the girl bumps into Roscoe, a small army of armed men comes running and shouting after her in a language Derek can perfectly understand. Thankfully they don’t seem interested in the two bewildered men on a horse, too focused on the girl who gets to her feet, scoops up the glowing ball and back up towards Roscoe.

And then, she points right at Derek and says, “The gods asked me to,” in a very condescending voice before all but hurling the sparking thing at Derek. He catches it by reflex and has a second of utter panic before realizing that he thing doesn’t burn. It’s…quite nice actually. Kinda tickling.

He’s pulled back to the present when, for some reason, Roscoe violently rears up and Stiles grabs at every available parts of Derek to stay on the horse’s back. Like, hair and neck, almost choking Derek in the process.

When Roscoe calms down and Stiles is done trying to kill Derek, they’re met with the strangest sight: every last warrior down on their knees, foreheads on the ground. The silence is deafening after the previous chaos.

Derek looks over his shoulder and shares a look of total confusion with Stiles. Then he turns back and shares a look of total confusion with Roscoe’s right eye.

One man gets up and, without looking at either of them, gestures to the waterfall behind the sculpture. “Come, lords.” Everyone gets up and starts to walk. The girl look at them with one eyebrow raised and silently urges them to follow.

So they do.

For a wild panicky minute, Derek is pretty sure this underground river with lead them straight to an afterlife of some kind because there is a light at the end of the tunnel. But then the light is obscured by a curtain and then–

Then, they’re on the other side of the curtain and he can’t be anywhere else than in heaven because this is just way too magnificent to be true. The tunnel opens on a wide lake fed by a multitude of waterfalls, lazy streams running between luxurious vegetation and beautiful, golden buildings.

Behind him, he hears Stiles whisper, “El Dorado.”

People gather on the banks of the lake to look at them curiously. Derek feels Stiles nervously reaching for his hand, so he grasp Stiles’ and feels the tremors in his fingers. They’ve long passed the stage of being self-conscious about holding hands to anchor themselves to each other, but it never ceases to make Derek’s heart beat faster.

They stay like that when they disembark, and the man who welcomes them takes one look at it and smiles knowingly. He introduces himself as the chief, and Stiles squeezes Derek’s hand harder in excitement. That’s when Derek finally dares to glance at Stiles, and he’s left as breathless as he thought he would be at the way Stiles seems to shine. It makes him smile despite the strangeness of the situation.

“You are welcomed among us,” the chief says, and Derek focuses back. His eyes keep going to the man standing to the right of the chief: a milky eyed man with the kind of smile Derek has only seen on cruel people. The armed men gather behind him.

“Oh course, the gods are welcomed,” milky-eyed man says, voice dripping sweetness, bowing his head a little, and Derek still wonders what this gods business is all about, “but I only wish they could bless us.”

The chief glances from the man to Derek and Stiles and smiles nervously.

“Come, now, Deucalion, no need to overwhelm our guests so early, their presence only is already a blessing. I’m sure they’ll perform their miracles when they deem the time right.”

Miracles. Okay. No.

“Would you excuse us for a second?” Derek smiles, and barely waits for the answering nod to grab Stiles and lead him just far enough that he can whisper without anyone understanding his words.

“This is crazy Stiles!” he whisper shouts, but Stiles is looking all around him with the same bright expression he had a minute before. Derek shakes him until Stiles focuses back on him.

“Derek, this is amazing, isn’t it amazing? We found El Dorado! It’s beautiful! And they have magic!” Stiles manages to contain his excitement enough that he’s not too loud about it. Derek glances at the people watching them with an affable smile to keep them from becoming too suspicious. He’s not sure what happens to fake gods, but he’s not willing to find out.

“Stiles, this is insane, we can’t stay here and pretend to be gods!”

Stiles blinks and frown, and Derek almost regrets the loss of his happy expression. “Then we tell them the truth,” Stiles shrugs as if it’s that simple. Derek groans.

“We can’t! They’ll kill us! Best thing to do now is to, I don’t know, say we’re busy with other godly things and we were just passing by to say hi, and leave.”

“No!” Stiles shakes his head, “We need to stay here! Why don’t you want to stay here, it’s for you that we came all this way!” He’s getting worked up and Derek doesn’t feel warm right now he just feels angry because why can’t Stiles ever see when they’re heading straight into big trouble?

“Well I didn’t ask you to!” It’s a wonder they’re still whispering at this stage, glowering at each other. Stiles snaps his mouth shut and glares at Derek with betrayal on his face.

“Well if you don’t care about your curse and if I’m such trouble trying to help you…,” Derek doesn’t like at all where this is headed, “well.” Stiles takes a step back, getting free of Derek’s grasp on his shoulders. He continues louder and louder, “You can. Just. Leave!”

At the exact same time he shouts the last word, the ground starts to shake and there’s a roar like nothing Derek’s heard before. He turns just in time to see a nearby mountain let out a column of smoke. When it stops and the grumbling eases down, there’s just silence. He’s shaking all over, and he knows Stiles is as freaked out as he is.

They both turn back to the people behind them with wide eyes, only to find them prostrated like the warriors before. Derek has a sinking suspicion that fate just made it near impossible for them to convince anyone they’re not gods.

“Lords,” the chief gets up and approaches them, “let me show you to your rooms. You’ll have everything you need, and we’ll host a feast in your honor tonight. Please, stay with us until then.”

Derek can’t think of anything to say. Besides him, Stiles nods.

Derek really needs to get his priorities straight. Because they’re in a hidden mystical city of gold and magic, treated like gods, and he’s losing his mind because right now he’s sharing a bed with Stiles.

Why is there even a bed, in a room at the top of a hundred stairs, in a temple for the gods? Do gods sleep?

So there’s only one bed and Derek couldn’t exactly say to Stiles that he didn’t want to sleep next to him. And here he is, so far from Stiles’ warm sleeping body that he’s almost rolling off the edge of the bed.

It’s torture, really, he wants to gather Stiles in his arms so bad and cuddle and kiss but he can’t say anything about it. They’ve more or less settled their arguments from earlier but Derek won’t risk anything else to piss Stiles off. What would he do, then? Go back to the jungle alone and try to get back to Spain? Find Cora?

He sighs.

“Derek?” a quiet voice interrupts his thoughts. He hums in answer. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

Derek turns until he faces Stiles, bathed in the silver moonlight. It’s so different from firelight and yet, Stiles is as beautiful. “You won’t leave, right?” he asks, putting an open hand between them. Derek takes it.

“I’m right here with you,” he says.

Lydia knows, obviously, that they’re not gods. Derek has a gnawing suspicion the chief knows too, but doesn’t say anything. Deucalion tries his hardest to prove it, of course.

In the middle of all that, it’s been three days since they’re here and Derek is downright miserable. Not because they’re this close to being pinned down as plain humans -or as close to it as possible in his case- and possibly thrown down this scary pit of swirling water behind Deucalion’s temple to his scary death gods.

No. Because Stiles has taken to the city and its inhabitants like a fish to water. Especially Lydia. They’ve been talking and talking together day in and day out and Stiles looks at her with stars in his eyes and Derek is not jealous, alright, but he’s just a bit pissed off by it. That’s all it is.

And the chief too. When Stiles is not with Lydia or playing stupid street games with the city people, he’s trailing the chief like a overexcited puppy, asking a thousand questions. This one, Derek can understand a little and not feel too left out, because Stiles apparently found a new father figure and Derek is happy for him. Really, he is. It’s just that he feels like his own place is not here.

And Stiles’ is.

So Derek looks for any evidence that Deucalion will make a move against them, since Derek and Stiles not so kindly rejected his offer to dominate the city with him and overthrow the chief. He enjoys the heavenly good food -he didn’t cry the first time, okay, he just got dust in his eyes- and he walks around. Sitting down on a small pier in an empty part of the city, Derek sulks.

That is, until someone sits besides him. Derek saw this girl around town a few times, always accompanied by a pale guy with ridiculous scarfs and a big guy who looks like he could crush your head with his fingers.

Derek looks back at the parts of the city still illuminated by sunlight, and from here he can see Stiles running around with little kids trying to teach him a stupid game involving a stick with a net at the end.

If he squints, Derek can also see that new friend Stiles made for himself, the one with the crooked jaw. He grits his teeth.

“You’re pretty stupid for a god, aren’t you?” the girl says matter-of-factly.

“And that’s your business how?” Derek grumbles. He regrets being so rude sometimes, but he can’t help himself. It’s his selling point, or so Stiles said.

“I just wouldn’t want the volcano to explode in our faces if you get your tail in a twist, that’s all,”

Derek looks sharply at her then, because there’s only two people that say that to him and it’s supposed to be a joke about his werewolfiness. The girl only scoffs.

“What, like it’s supposed to be this big secret? We’re only playing along because to piss off Deucalion you know,” she chuckles, “and because you’re both too adorable.” She sobers up. “Be careful about Deucalion, though. There’s not much we can do to help if he ever does something against you two. He’s the one with the magic around here, that’s why Lydia tried to run away with the Stone.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, just nods. His brain is working overtime to connect all the dots.

“Why am I an idiot then?”

She studies him with her eyebrows raised like just asking the question proved her point. “We’re all betting on when you’ll get your heads out of your asses about your stupid crushes,” she says, and it’s the most crude person Derek encountered here, everyone else is always so polite. “Also, there’s a second poll going on about who’s going to go first with the confession.” She looks at the city then, a satisfied smirk in place.

“Are you…,” Derek narrows his eyes, because he’s no beginner in scams of all sorts, “are you telling me this to rig the game?”

She laughs, head thrown back, “That’s what you’re focusing on?” she turns to him again, still laughing. Then she winks and gets up. Before he knows it, he’s alone again and left reeling with the implications of what she just said.

There’s bets on who will confess first? But…they can only be wrong. But they got it right about Derek’s crush -is he that obvious?- so…

Derek watches the sun set and the stars come out. He doesn’t move for a long time. He needs some time to unfreeze his brain.

Of course, since it’s his life and nothing can ever be easy, when he finally gets back to their chamber ready to just throw caution to the wind and kiss Stiles -after his confession and Stiles consent obviously- it’s only to be rudely interrupted by a giant moving rocky sculpture of a wolf.

Derek isn’t even surprised by this. Just disappointed.

“Well, well, well,” Deucalion says, eyes shining the same red as the lines that course all over the beast’s body, making it clear he’s the one controlling it, “looks like the big wolf is going to eat the little one.”

Derek steps aside so he’s standing between Stiles and the threat, which of course Stiles ignores by coming to stand next to him.

“Why are you doing this?” Stiles asks coldly.

“My, but to get more power!” Deucalion extends his arms to the side. He looks like a fanatic, but then with his worshiping of death gods Derek supposes he is. “Come now, little god,” he says with a smirk to Stiles “if you stand aside I might yet let you live.”

“You’re going to do just that,” Derek snarls, taking a step. He ignores Stiles trying to grab his arm and keep him back.

“Oh for god’s sake,” Stiles groans, and the irony is definitely not lost on Derek but then Stiles is pulling Derek back so hard he can only stumble. Balance lost he finds himself already running down the hundreds of stairs of the temple before he even processes Stiles’ hand in his.

Derek thinks they managed to avoid wreaking too much havoc on the city itself by fleeing towards the outer limits of it.

But now there’s nowhere to go, they’re on the edge of the big freaky drop into swirling water and the rock beast is advancing on them. Stiles has picked up a machete from somewhere and, true, he’s better at sword fighting than Derek -which he proved multiple times and smugly reminded Derek of- but machetes aren’t the same thing at all.

And Derek would know, he almost lost a finger when Stiles picked one up a few days ago and started messing around with it.

Plus, there’s probably nothing it can do against rock. So, they’re pretty much screwed.

Derek desperately tries to think of a few good last words, but nothing comes to mind. So, here’s to improvisation he guesses.

“I, uh, I love you.”

Well that could’ve been better in execution but he’s going with what he has right now.

Stiles turns to him with a very offended face and Derek is worried for a second.

“Seriously?” Stiles squeals, “You’re doing this now?” He shakes his head. “Well good job on the dramatic reveal,” he grins, eyes still fixed on the beast that has now backed them up all the way to the edge. Then he turns to Derek with the brightest smile, though it’s tainted by fear. “Love you too.” And then he starts running at the beast.

“Stiles!” Derek yells, but it’s too late. He suddenly understands that Stiles is trying to get past the beast to Deucalion. The man is standing right behind his monster and laughs manically, yelling something that sounds like “I am the demon wolf” which is so ridiculous Derek is probably hearing it wrong.

Stiles actually manages to dodge two swipes of gigantic paws coming right at him with this grace he only possesses in actual fights. But the third gets him, and he flies back, rolls, stops at Derek’s feet. He doesn’t move again.

And that, right then, makes something crack inside Derek. The terror and desperation fade into the background, overcomed by pure rage.

He howls.

He shifts.

Everything else is a blur, but Derek is quite certain of something: he didn’t save the day. He did save Stiles though, so in his case it counts as saving the world. He kinda hates being so cheesy, but well.

He knows that Lydia barged in, kinda ruining his very own moment of bravery and curse breaking and love protecting, and she saved the day with an almighty scream that broke the rock monster in millions pieces, as easy as glass.

Deucalion is dead, too, which shouldn’t be a relief but is. No one could stand the guy and his dramatics.

So that leaves them here, standing on the main pier with the chief, people curiously looking from afar. There’s the betting girl over there who thumbs up at Derek and he wonders how she can know.

Stiles is having his injured arm bandaged and he looks guiltily at the chief.

“So…,” he drawls, “bleeding! Not a god!” He rubs at his neck with his good hand, and the chief mirrors the gesture but in a thoughtful way.

“Yeah, I know,” he smiles, steps up to ruffle Stiles’ hair. They both look at each other for a long moment, the chief with pride and Stiles with wonder.

“So…” It’s Derek’s turn to awkwardly start. “What now?”

“Yeah, do we have to go?” Stiles starts to ramble, “Can we, like, stay?” he directs that one half at Derek, “We also have to think about Argent because he'll–”

“Stiles.” The chief raises his hands in a calming gesture, making Stiles take a deep breath. “You can stay, son.” For a second he almost seems surprised himself at the word, but then he continues as if nothing happened, “If you wish so.” Stiles looks up at him with such hope, then at Derek with such pleading eyes, that he suddenly realizes how stupid he’s been this past week.

“I…,” he hesitates, looks around for a second. “Well, I don’t know many places with good food like this, so I guess it wouldn��t be to difficult to stay.”

There’s a short silence before everyone starts laughing. Stiles leaps from where he’s half sitting and suddenly Derek has his arms full. He joins the laughter. Yeah. Staying here is good.

“So,” Stiles says again, but this time they’re alone. They spent the day celebrating and now the sun is setting behind the mountains, making the volcano light up like it’s on fire. “You love me, uh?” He looks unsure, like he thinks he dreamed it.

“And you love me,” Derek says smoothly, grin in place, acting like his heart isn’t beating a mile a minute.

“Well, yeah, I thought it was pretty obvious,” Stiles chuckles, “I guess not. Lydia was right, I am an idiot.”

Derek thinks back on the girl -Erica, he learned today- and what she said. Was it only yesterday? “I suppose I am, too,” he says.

Stiles laughs. “That’s our most attractive feature.”

“They’ll write a book about us idiots and our adventures.”

“Well then, let’s make it interesting. Why not start with a little romance?” Stiles steps closer to Derek, and the night is fresh enough that he feels Stiles’ warmth even before they’re pressed together. He looks into Stiles’ sparkling eyes.

It’s the new moon tonight. Which, now that he thinks about it, makes it even more incredible that he broke the curse the night before.

But that’s not the point. The point is, bathed in only starlight, Stiles is beautiful.

Still, he’s half hidden by the darkness of the night so. Derek supposes he’ll have to use his lips to see him better.

#stereksummerexchange17 #sse17 #sterek #submission #fic

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asmodaiisis-blog · 7 years ago

Text

H O T C O M B S

❛ ... fascinating ❜ this interrogative report was dragging on far longer than he had patience for. and his patience was already wearing thinner and thinner by the day upon every hour.

the suffocatingly comfortable warmth of downtown’s few remaining hotel rooms was beginning to put him to sleep, despite the cracks in the salmon painted walls, the handful of times his bodyguards had killed roaches the size of his fist, and the general fact that he’d had to suffer the actual presence of bodyguards in the first place. somewhere in the back of his mind, a hazy voice of inconvenient reason would chime in in a tone of softness and dull clarity that he had no mood to pay much attention to. at least, not when he was already so preoccupied with the shivering collection of bones and meat crouched before him on all fours, a .45 pressed deep into the knot of his tangled ponytail.

that’s right, he was supposed to be interrogating this youkai. what was he asking him again? he couldn’t recall...

❛ --? ... no, my apologies, i wasn’t paying attention, nor did i hear you. mostly because you didn’t make yourself clear... ... and mostly because you’ve come before me, twice... empty-handed. ❜

the sigh that left King’s lips should have sounded theatrically exhausted, but it was an expression far more robotic and taught than was reasonably comfortable. glancing briefly to his left, catching the corner glint of reflective shades of one of his taller guards, the man shifted like oil, and brushed a few inaudible words to the hairdresser currently at work on the thicker locks of one of the escorts, seated between the woman’s knees.

❛ i hope you realize that, at some point, i’m going to have a difficult time believing you every time you report back to me with little to no information regarding the progress made by sanzo’s group, as well as how you’ve attempted to impede their progress... ❜

the guards at the violet haired youkai’s sides shifted then, lifting the man’s arms effortlessly despite his exhausted attempts at struggling, which was laughably weak as he seemed to sort of pool into a pile of spaghetti limbs and repressed sobs and sighs before their present Leader. despite all of the man’s theatrics, Kougaiji still leant forward over his knees, resting his weight on the knees of his starched black slacks and reaching a hand out, carefully, to slip through the locks of the shivering mass before him.

at some point, he remembered being able to know... to really grasp and comprehend what this feeling was. the coarse texture of strands beneath his touch, the scent of pomade that filtered through the air as he disturbed the fibers. somewhere in the back of his mind, he had the reflex and the though to grasp hold of this, to study and analyze it ( perhaps to remember it ), but the idea was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

just as it always was... just as it always did.

❛ ... are you afraid of them? ❜ are you afraid of me? the answer was always yes. of course it was. King was the head ( temporary head? ) of The Family, who wouldn’t fear man of his stature? especially those that had heard rumors and whispers of how different Prince was now than he was before he adopted the title of King.

King wasn’t entirely sure what the purpose of such discussions were, as he did not find himself in the company of gossip, nor entertained any of it’s rumors fairly deeply. either way, it was always something that nagged in the back of his mind. just a general curiosity, of an idea that he might have been Someone Else before he was Who He Figured He Was.

❛ you don’t need to be afraid of me, as long as you tell me the truth, ❜ he continued in a voice as soft as it had been from the start. allowing the man to be settled ( or more specifically thrown ) between his legs, he slipped long manicured nails through the kinkier strands of his captive’s hair, gingerly working out the little knots and snags that his motions encountered. ❛ all i ask of you is the truth... that’s all i’ve wanted from the start, ❜ he breathed slowly, placing a hand upon the violet’s shoulder, as the other traced soothingly idle patterns in his scalp.

❛ if you can tell me this, if you can just be honest, then you know i can be reasonable... i know you’ve heard those rumors, and know them to be true-- ❜

but there was an immeasurable level of silence, an unsettling amount of stillness, even as ‘King’ continued to caress and cajole the confession he wished from the lips of his henchmen. his stubbornness seemed unfortunate to him. and also foolish, because if there was one thing that King and Prince shared, despite being two sides of the same whole, it was their general fairness in any given situation.

fairness.... to a fault--

❛ ... you’re silence is an unfortunate declaration-- ❜ and he’s not sure if the violet haired creation in his grasp meant for it to be an obvious act of defiance, or just a general reflex of panic, but regardless of either of these truths, King has already reached forth to grasp a fistful of the retreating figures locks, curled his nails around them, and forced them back into the crook between his legs. looping one leg over the man’s shoulder, he secures him in place a heel digging pointedly into his thigh, into the flesh and into the ground below as he wrenches his skull to one side by the roots of his hair as he accepts the cooled handle of a hot comb into his grasp by one of his guards.

❛ i didn’t want to do this... and i want to say you left me no choice, but honestly? i’ve been wondering about the scent of warm hair for quite some time you see-- ❜

he’s audibly aware of the pungent sensation of screams, more than he is of the scent of burnt hair and scalp. he goes through the motions his mother used on him, taking each strand of hair, carefully at a time, and pressing them flat and thin and straight as he draws the comb up along the length of hair towards his chest. he’s aware of the motions. and he’s aware that the aroma of cooked flesh and fibers fills the air and mixes in the back of his primitive mind in an unfortunately mouth watering way. because somewhere in the back of his person, behind King, further past prince, and further beyond is some sort of animal and some sort of creature that shivers and quivers at the idea of tasting a drop and a dallop of just an iota of that charbroiled flesh upon his tongue.

❛ we can stop any time you’d like... all you must do is to tell me the truth... if you can do so clearly, ‘round your auditory dissonance, that would be preferable, since you’re not being very clear at present.❜

the garbled sobbing, rigorous thrashing, and the persistence of oily burnt flesh continues to fill the air every time King presses the hot comb further and further and further into the scalp, and nerves and marrow of the man between his knees. and you know, he’s trying to do his best here? flat-ironing hair is kind of a big to do. it takes patience, practice and the absolute cooperation of your client, and the more this man moves, the worse his service is going to be.

breathing with a bit more force, King settles to wrap his legs around and over the man’s shoulders, yanking gently on another section of the man’s hair as he grinds and twists the hot comb down into his skull. roots were always the trickiest to get the straightest, after all, and it required a very precise sort of patience and care to get each little kinky knot to cooperate.

and he pulls, and pulls and pull and pulls and pulls until silky, smoothly it pops! and here he is with a fist full of snarled hair in one hand, dripping, dropping, singing and smelling deliciously of ash and fire and blood and tantalizing textures at the end of strangled fibers. he knows he’s starving and he knows there’s chocked screams mingling with his own idle thoughts about the idea that eggs and bacon sounds perfect right about now, but he tosses the thought and the forgettable remnants of this man’s scalp over his shoulder into some corner of the room.

❛ now... as i have said before-- ❜ he continues calmly, heavily, slipping gently fingers through fresher untouched strands of highlighted hair, free hand idly inadvertently warming the comb in his grasp-- ❛ Queen requests an answer... so-- where is sanzo’s party currently, and how are you still alive after encountering them? ❜

#( drabble ) :: so what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you've killed me?#( v; guns and roses ) :: superbeast #( v; guns and roses ) :: sit down or be humble #tw: torture #//not sure what i wrote #//not here #( v; brainwasher ) :: the devil's inside

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