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your-talos-is-problematic · 9 months ago

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WIP Wednesday!

It’s probably Thursday for some of you already, but oh well. Tagging the usuals @throughtrialbyfire @skyrim-forever and @trickstarbrave sorry if y’all’ve already posted!

Here’s some more crossover fun with Afonya and Tilia! Beware some weirdness probably because a lot of this was written right before bed.

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“Luckily, my parents raised me to just… believe in myself. In my own value. No matter what.” The tiefling’s smile was genuine, but there was a question behind her eyes. She was trying to understand mine. After a pause, she continued, “I can’t imagine the effect it would have on me to be kicked out of my home of almost thirty years. Without that support, I mean.” Wow. Pointed.

I sighed. “Yeah. It’s not fun.” She nodded but kept silent, clearly fishing for more. “What do you want to know?” I was probably speaking to her like a child, but it was hard not to see Lucia in Tilia’s inquisitive stare and prying words.

She turned her head to think for a second, her facial scales catching the light. “What was your homeland like?”

I smiled. “Morrowind was beautiful. Maybe not if you were older and used to it pre-eruption, or lived somewhere green like this.” I paused to tear a flower out of the ground. “But it was beautiful. The ash covered everything, in this way that was always changing when the wind picked up. At night it was this beautiful dark gray color, but during the day you could see all the shades of brown and black and red coming from the mountain.” This was the point where Brelyna would usually cutely laugh at the wonder in my voice- it was smart of Tilia to start with this. “It wasn’t lifeless like some people try to pretend- unless you were in the deep ashlands, there was always some kind of mushroom or flower peeking its head out of the ground. And usually some form of bug bothering you, because it wouldn’t be Morrowind without one.” I swallowed a sound escaping my throat because I wasn’t sure if it was going to be a laugh or a sob.

Tilia gifted me with a sad smile. “It sounds nice.” I was well-versed enough in deception to know she was lying, but the thought was sweet. “When did you leave?”

“Not that long ago.” I paused to count the months, then had a sinking realization. “Nevermind. Three years ago. By Azura- Elia was only fifteen.”

Tilia drew in a sharp breath. “I’ve only been in the Gate for less than a year.” Her eyebrows furrowed, like she was trying to mentally make a timeline of our journeys. Eventually, she asked, “How do you get through everything, then? If you’re so unconfident in yourself? No offense.”

I paused to consider my answer. I thought about giving the usual I fake it, but decided to tell her the truth. I needed to be trusting with her, I could tell. “My family- my real family, that’s Elia, Brey, my kids. I still have trouble believing they love me unconditionally, but they help.” I was able to anticipate her next question, so I answered it too. “That first year though, and most of the second one, were pretty hard. I really think my faith in the gods was all that kept me together. Dunmer are very focused on change- creating it, adapting to it, taking advantage of it. And Azura feels your pain when you start to reflect your hatred inwards.” Tilia wouldn’t be able to notice, but I was quoting a common sermon from my father there. Those speeches were one of two things I learned from him- the other one being how to be a hypocrite. “You’re not religious, Tilia?”

She shook her head. “No. Never found one that worked for me. After seeing Aylin and Isobel, I wondered if I was being called to Selǔne, but…” She trailed off.

“Were you?”

“No. I think I was being called to muscular women, which… preach to the choir.” I lost my cool, at that, the urge to laugh fighting the urge to sigh and winning. The tiefling talked in a manner that almost gave the impression that she wasn’t fully aware of what was going on around her, similarly to Brelyna. She waited patiently for me to recover myself before asking, “What were we talking about?”

“Morrowind. When I left.”

“Right.” She paused to readjust her tail and run a hand through her hair. “How many times have you come back?”

I smiled. “Thank Azura, I’ve been able to return more times than I could count up to in Tamrielic.” She gave me a puzzled look. “My parents were stubborn and only spoke Dunmeri, so I’m missing some knowledge,” I explained. “But I’ve gone to Solstheim, the island that’s a lot less devastated, pretty often. Almost once a month for the past year. And then I went to Vvardenfell, the main island- not the mainland, which ks where I’m from- once. To get married to Brelyna, officially.”

She looked confused again. Or it was just her resting face. Hard to tell. “So when your sister came to Skyrim, you…”

I laughed. “We’re still pretty busy in civil war cleanup, so I hired someone from Raven Rock to escort her there.”

She looked somewhat upset at that, and opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but closed it and resorted to a nod.

“Something you take issue with?” I ventured.

“No. I guess not.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “No. Explain.”

“I shouldn’t be judging you for how you parent your sister. I’m an only child, I don’t- you know.” She had switched pretty quickly into an apology, which probably indicated that it was genuine.

I was tempted to point out the absurdity of the idea of me parenting Elia, but something behind Tilia drew my gaze. I stood up and drew my concentration to creating an Ebonyflesh spell in my left hand. Tilia followed my gaze, her white wings drawing out of her back as she turned her body. I extended my arm for her to pull herself up with. “We have company, Tilia.”

Tilia of Tragedy

[date in DnD system]

Afonya fought like Shadowheart. For the most part, she stayed back, whispering incantations that grew into bolts of what appeared to be both lightning and fire and ended their life cycle as explosions. She did occasionally become more reckless, though, like a few seconds ago, when she had taken a few steps closer to the bulette to breathe fire onto it. Which was something I was quite jealous of.

As for myself, I was currently hovering just out of the creature’s reach, attempting to reposition a Cloudkill to not place the elf directly in its poison. I guessed that I probably had about a minute before my wings gave out and the cloud disappeared, quite possibly at the same time.

And as for the bulette, it was probably having the worst day of its life. I’d only seen Afonya fight once before, and briefly, but these thirty seconds were confirmation enough of Astarion’s account of her formidability. It alternated swipes at the two of us, occasionally breaking out into confused screeches.

Unfortunately, I was probably too focused on analyzing Afonya’s style and not focused enough on evading attacks. She took a break (probably to recover magical energy, given what she’d told me about Tamriel’s magic), which the bulette took as an opportunity to leap into the air, throwing me off balance and landing closer to Afonya than I was comfortable with. Right then my wings decided to disappear on me, so I took an ungraceful tumble to the ground. From the dirt I eyed Afonya, who was less than a foot from the monster’s massive snout. Far too close for a mage as, for lack of a better word, squishy as she was.

I drew in an anxious breath as she seemed to freeze with fear, fully prepared to walk back to camp alone to get Shadowheart. However, as I watched, she started to glow green around the edges. Haven’t seen that before. Raising a hand up to the sky, or whatever functioned as sky in the Underdark, she started to cast what looked like a version of Call Lightning, but more… frantic. And centered on herself. Which seemed dangerous. I pulled myself up from the ground, mouthing a small ignis and shooting a bolt of fire from my fingertips into the bulette’s back. It roared and turned to face me, but took less than a step before Afonya yelled some more draconic words and it was dead on the ground.

#tes #baldurs gate #wip wednesday

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lala-ladybug · 4 years ago

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Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

Previous | Next

Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic

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dorki-c · 4 years ago

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Fuck him up (if he hurts you)

Characters: Dabi, Fem.(Reader), Toga, Mr. Compress, Giran

Relationship: Dabi and (Reader)

A/N: Hey! I’m finally done with this one! Whoop! Whoop! It took a little while but I’m glad its done because to be honest...I really enjoyed writing this, but, I have other things that require my attention. Also! Happy belated bday Dabi!

As always, PLEASE REBLOG AND LIKE! (ALSO COME JOIN MY VALENTINES EVENT, ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS CLICK HERE!)

TW: Threatening, Swearing and Cheating

Does anybody know the stages of getting over your cheating significant other?

It all starts out with denial- how bittersweet that filthy fucking word is-, although it doesn’t last long, when once you managed to eat at least five tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream whilst watching the last show of some shitty soap opera, the next stage comes to bite your ass, anger- also known as throwing or burning your exe’s belongings that they left; however, I prefer burning it (they won’t be able to sell it if they come back).

Once those first two (rather tough) stages fly pass, this third one was like hitting the jackpot for me, but probably not for you, as the mental gamble caused lots of sexually frustrated people to bargain- to play the dice, you shall, but even gamblers don’t use the ‘third time is the charm’ as its utter bullshit- and then--!

OH GOD, HERE COMES FIVE MORE TUBS OF BEN & JERRY’S ICECREAM! THIS ONE IS A REAL KICKER! SOMEBODY HELP ME! THE LIVING ROOM IS FUCKING FLOODING WITH DEPRESSION- Yup, that was you five tubs of ice cream ago, maybe some chocolate might help…

At last, when the cleaning crew arrived, and you managed to accept- with the sunshine glowing down on your skin after four long stages of shit- with the fresh thought of buying a couple dresses that you saw on sale from that one adorable itty bitty corner shop.

But I’m not like that.

And here’s why in (you guessed it) 5 stages.

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1. Discovery.

Rolling their shoulders backwards, a blanket fell backwards as a tall silhouette ghosted from the bedroom door that they left open.

When the bathroom light blinked to life, (y/n) faintly heard the screeching of the door shut on itself. Though, she knew her beloved boyfriend had to go to ‘work’, what she didn’t know was who made his phone ping at 7:15 in the morning.

Scooting over to the opposite side of the bed, blankets stuck to sweat-ridden skin as they coiled around her legs similarly to a snake and ensnared them to stay stuck and stationary. The plush pillows tried to lull her back to sleep. However, (y/n) wasn’t having any of it.

Reaching out to grab Dabi’s phone- even if he didn’t give you permission- the time was as you predicted, though the contents of his notifications bleeping up was something you didn’t predict. The background of his lock screen was something to behold as it was a picture of your concentrated form doodling in a sketchbook whilst a pale white cup stood beside two fresh slices of cake.

Shakily revealing the messaging app, there was around four or five unknown contacts, all listed under the people’s numbers.

Though one of them caught your eye.

Opening the chatroom, your free hand clutched the blankets.

Dabi is going to regret making you break the way you did that morning.

(He has no choice in doing so.)

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2. Kicking the asshole out.

“Toga…? C-can you come over, please.”

The TV presented the small-town news that had little to no intervention though that didn’t mould the female into a wish less mess where a gentle hand went to work and smooth out ensnared knots. “Are you okay now, (y/n)-chan?” You never heard Toga murmur before, but that’s the perks of being alive now.

(Y/n) released the trembling bubble of air out of her lungs and into the atmosphere, readying herself for that front door to open. Shaking your head to respond to Toga’s question, a small huff was released out of the other female’s chest.

The blonde female knew why you still weren’t okay.

Whoever walks through that door will have a profound effect on whatever will happen to (y/n).

However, with the slight nudge of her friend’s hand pinching the side of her sensitive waist, a yelp was released in surprise whereas the blonde villain giggled at the reaction. “Your so easy to scare, (y/n)-chan!” Toga loved to tease you, but in this time frame it wasn’t to make you feel uncomfortable but rather the opposite.

She wanted to make your thunder stricken heart rumble with rage in an unknown and bizarre way- but to also remind that you weren’t alone-, though, you had this bubbly and extra crazy best friend who brought over too many sweets for your stomach to handle alongside the annoyance that you hadn’t noticed Dabi’s strange and desolate nature.

As Toga picked up another opened bag of candy (I think they were ‘eclairs’), unwrapped the golden covering as the crinkling plastic fumbled like sparks dancing across the fingers in a tantalising rhythm. In an attempt to grab the bag, Toga was about to throw it across the room so you could get off her because, and I quote “You’re killing me with your weight!”, how lovely that compliment is for somebody who’s blood is like a glacier falling apart after a storm chipped the exterior and revealed the icy truth underneath.

And may God cover their eyes, as that chilling sharp edge at the tip of the glacier crumbles under Mother Nature’s will (so does the female when the familiar screech of the door revealing whoever is walking through reaches her ears).

Sluggishly dripping back onto the couch where at least three of the seven stocked up with fluff blankets- wrapped around drooped shoulders- had slid onto the floor, Toga made an effort to pick them up and stuff (piling) them next to the drowsy (y/n).

“I’m home, dollface!” A familiar voice hollered.

When both of the female’s heard that voice, there was no turning back to the past.

(Y/n) glanced to a duffel bag next to the couch, then glanced towards the teenager’s sinking rage as the blonde’s lips started to slip into a scowl.

A step almost turned into two, however, was held back by the puffy eyed female. “C-c-can I handle this…please?” They whimpered.

Toga really needs to gain a resistance to (y/n) cuteness when she’s sad.

Grabbing the duffel bag, two slippers shuffled (real smooth) around the couch to enter the hallway that led to the front door. Exactly where Dabi was about to take off his shoes.

“I recommend not taking your shoes off.” The pair of blue eyes looked up in confusion. “What? So, I can’t take off my own shoes in our home?” It sounded like a tease, but what if there was another meaning behind it?

Dabi, however, knew that familiar look of sharp-edges eyes where the glossy swirling of a singular emotion led to- and his teasing didn’t make the situation, he’s found himself in, any more light-hearted.

“This isn’t your home anymore,” Hissed (y/n), where (the fuck) did she get that attitude from?

“Who told you that you can throw me o—” The heavy duffel bag clutched in (y/n) clammy hands thud against Dabi’s chest, where his feet slid against the front door’s matt- his legs trembled at the impact the bag had on his chest- along with the rising cough that caught up to him after fleeing from a hero.

“Nobody—told me what to do.” Another sniff ensued, “But, I figured out the truth.” An eyebrow twitched upwards in anticipation as his hand bawled against his hip.

“Then tell me, what’s this big ass ‘truth’ you figured out?” Retorted the male with turquoise eyes watching her head droop towards the ground to hide something.

Raising it after a momentary pause, she glowered “You’re a bloody cheater, Touya.” When tears stained the red canvas again.

“Oh, so this is what it’s about…” Voice as nonchalant as shallow murky river water, “Do you even realise why I did it?” Rolling his eyes, two fingers wormed their way towards a special ring on her left hand before it hit the ground.

“I don’t want to know why.”

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3. Jealousy

It was sudden, quick, and loud how Toga came into your (lonely) apartment.

Bang went the door against the wall and crash went the multiple shoes from the shoe cabinet as they thudded against the floor.

“(Y/N)-CHAN! I HAVE GOOD NEWS!” Her shout was louder than the moans you would usually make when it was a pleasurable night with your (new) ex, however you shouldn’t dwell on past relationships.

Only moving your eyes slightly from the book gripped tightly in your hands, Toga sauntered over holding a suspiciously large bag, this only led one ping-pong ball bouncing back to another ping-pong ball within the crevasses of your mind.

Placing a ripped piece of paper in the book, it snapped shut, “Who did you kill?” questioned (y/n)- knowing that when Toga finds something, she will resort to violence, no matter the cost-, however the sweet smile presented as a defence for whatever action she committed was enough dull your concern.

“Not telling ya!” Then getting a knife out- wait, where did that even come from-, Toga stabbed into the black plastic bag and tore it open with many- I mean tons- of clothes sliding out of the bag and becoming a miniature avalanche in the small space that is your living room.

“…H-how?” Sputtered (y/n), Toga replied: “Big sis’ Mags let us borrow some of her clothes!”

(Y/n) can only imagine how Toga managed to convince Magne to let her borrow some clothes off her, and by clothes, (y/n) could only assume its short skirts and dresses.

“But!” Added Toga, “we have to wait for Mr.C to pop up!”

Great, even Mr. Compress knows about your breakup with Dabi.

“Fine.”

Sitting pretty on a kitchen chair, a small brush lightly dabbed a small hint of colour against the rooftop of your eyes. “Why are we doing this, again?” Murmured the relaxed female as a small dress laid boringly over the torso where it edged closely to showing the backside of her thighs.

Chuckling in response to her inquisitive comment, the villain grabbed liquid eyeliner, although it was smacked out of his hand and replaced with pencil eyeliner matched with a scowl from his subject.

“Liquid eyeliner is cursed, don’t get that shit near me.”

“My, my, even somebody as classy as I wouldn’t offensively smack such an object—”

Oh boy, here we go again.

“Shush, I could easily get Big Sis Magne to beat your ass if you use that tone with me, sir.”— “Oh heavens no! I think Magne would pick my side out of the two of us!”— “Oh really now?”— “I believe—”

Another door slammed open and in stormed Toga in a confident catwalk down the hallway just to profoundly exclaim; “NOPE! SHE’LL CHOOSE ME AS THE CHOSEN ONE!”

Cue the laughter.

Before the sun was ready to roll itself out of the closet, the patchwork villain made his way under the thick cover of darkness to a certain broker’s office.

Pushing it open to let the light of the office room scream in his eyes before he even had the chance to speak, the older male that greeted him, offered him a seat.

“Hey Dabi, what brings you here to my humble abode?” Giran spoke out as the glistening cup of coffee placed in front of the wanderer reflected the light into its murky brown ripples. “I need you to trace this number to its origin, and quick.” Anxiously sliding his phone to showcase your number, the broker twitched his brow upwards.

“First and foremost, where’s the cash?” A thick wad of yen slammed against the table.

“Happy now?”— “Very much so!” Scowling at Giran’s happy chirp, the broker worked his magic on the burner phone to effectively trace the number back to your location, where Dabi soon enough made his way towards the destination you were at.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this…

Nor why he still keeps the ring…

However, he knows what he’s going to say next.

--------------------------------

4. Anger

Simmering and low crackles of something in the kitchen of your apartment awoke the female from her drunken slumber.

What was being made and why does it smell so familiar? The waft of the meal being created swarmed the first stimulant within the hungover mind of yours truly as the wavering warmth rustled around your legs in an unspoken persuasive whisper to stay in bed.

However, curiosity killed the cat and also brought it back.

Two feet tapped the floor in alerted silence.

Tiptoeing across the room, a hand clenched the side of the doorway when two eyes surfed the surroundings outside of her den.

The sizzling stopped, with a small snap of fire going out.

At the same time this happened, it was then when she figured out who was in her kitchen: Him.

Him, with his tall stance that could make for a ladder to climb on or him with his broad shoulders that look like they were bricks squished underneath his skin, where his paired raven hair familiarly spiked up.

“What are you doing here?” If it wasn’t for the delicious food he was making, then you would’ve killed him on sight. A lacklustre glance at the female, he uses one of her spatulas to move the bacon from the frying pan onto a plate with plump golden coloured scrambled eggs.

“You were drunk, I brought you home, and am now making your hangover breakfast.” Placing the plate next to your arm resting against the counter, with another glance in your direction, Dabi made a finishing blow in the words of: “Since you can’t cook for shit.”

Oh boy, he knows you too well to expect your immediate reaction: anger.

From the built-up rage that started to stack up from days of unrest (and being bloated because of the several tubs of Bens & Jerry’s ice cream), it all started to splutter out of control.

“Oh-- So now your fucking attacking me after the shit you put me through?”

“Why should you know?” (Y/n) turned sour at his comment, “’Why’ I should know?!”

From the nearest counter, there was an empty glass. You took advantage of the potential weapon held it up ready for it to slam against the ground.

“(Y/n) -- put the glass down.” Warned the patchwork male.

With the tips of her ears feeling ever so hot, it felt like the pressure escalating within her ears caused only for her protests to be heard even through the pause of silence.

“(Y/n).” A small twitch of one of his feet made (y/n) flinch backwards. “Com’ on, I know you don’t want to hurt me.” He took another step toward, her grip tightened on the glass cup.

“Do you even know why I’m here?”

“No,” Moving her hand higher, Dabi took another step forward, (Y/n) took another step back, “And I don’t want to kno—” Blubbering a bit of salvia as the female attempted to speak, though it was incoherently heard through squished cheeks.

“Listen, for fucks sake,” Electric blue eyes pierced into your soul like a spear, it’s quite hilarious: You once loved those blue eyes of his, you once worshipped the feeling of his eyes raking down your nude body before- as they took in the sight of pleasure squirming and tightening underneath those diligently flexible fingers-, but those days are over.

He can worship your goddamn forgiveness if he’s going to restrain you like this.

----------------------------------------

5. Forgiveness

“That’s what happened.”

Two legs of your own were crossed over each other like two birds of a feather.

“Are you being honest with me?”

His hand tapped the table as he sat across from you.

“Yes, I’m being honest.”

Breathing inwards and releasing a slow, practiced breath. She glanced at the male’s awaiting expression.

“Okay…”

Biting his ruined lip, the raven-haired male let out a breath of relief.

“Will you forgive me?”

She wishes she could.

“I’m not so sure yet…”

Dabi looked to the side to see (y/n) with both of his eyes.

“But, I’ll give you one last try.”

Taglist:

@glitterfreezed, @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku, @haredabi, @orenjineki

JOIN THE VALENTINES WRITING EVENT HERE!

#tw: swearing #TW: Cheating #Fem! reader #dabi mha #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #dabixyou #Dabi lives rent free in my mind #mild yandere! reader #dorki talks like a dabi simp #dabi lives rent free in my mind #villain x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnhaxyou #mha #mha x reader

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redrobinfection · 4 years ago

Text

(16) Graveyard

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober (2018) - Day 16 “Graveyard”

~*~

"How about four out of seven?" Tim asked with a shrug, winding up the toilet paper roll again.

Damian, his fellow barista, threw his roll at Tim's head, missing wildly. He glared. "You cheated, Drake!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he retrieved Damian's roll and began winding it up too. "How could I cheat at coffee cup bowling, ‘Wayne’?"

"You wind your roll too tightly. It doesn't unravel as much when you pitch it and thus has more mass by the time it hits the cups."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "What are you now, a physics major? That just sounds like strategy, dude. You are free to roll your roll as tightly as you'd like. That isn't against the rules."

Damian fumed. "The rules you made up! This is why I said we should use the rice crispy ba--customer."

Tim whirled on the spot, seeing that, indeed, a paying customer had entered their little, semi-enclosed coffee shop. Outside, a few students sat or sprawled over the sectional couches that filled the large basement of the university student union in which the shop was located.

Tim turned and vaulted over the counter. He heard a quiet "-tch-" from Damian as he walked to the hinged raise-able section of the counter and let himself in.

Tim straightened his apron and stepped up the register with a smile. The customer stood about five feet from the register, head tilted back, studying the menu board over Tim's head with bleary eyes. The guy was like a zombie, he was that exhausted. Tim cut his eyes over to the clock on the wall. 3:45 am. Hell of a time for coffee.

Tim glanced over his shoulder at Damian, who was reawakening the cranky espresso machine with deft fingers. Seven hours and forty-five minutes with Damian "the Demon " Wayne down, only four hours and fifteen minutes to go. Tim turned back to their customer and sighed. This was going to be a loooooooong morning.

At second glance, there was something familiar about the guy, but Tim couldn't put his finger on where he knew him. The guy had pretty teal eyes, but they were reddened and dull, like he hadn't closed them except to blink in way too long. He was also pretty well cut, Tim noticed, with clearly muscled arms and pecs so defined that Tim could clearly see them through the man's sweater. Maybe that's how Tim knew him? Maybe he'd seen him in the UREC weight room?

The guy's most eye-catching feature by far was the white forelock that curled down over his forehead. He was the third person Tim had met to have a whitened forelock like that; the other two were fraternal twins who had had small patches of albinism right at their widows peaks which affected both the skin and hair. Tim idly wondered if this guy's white lock was natural too. In any case, it looked frickin' cool, a lot cooler than his own; the best thing he could say about his own hair was that he could pull off the 90's curtain cut plus semi-mullet well enough that he could go an entire semester on a single haircut.

Tim was drawn out of his thoughts when dude finally stepped up to the counter and began to speak.

"Uh, hi, could I get a large, double-shot caramel latte?"

"Absolutely. How many pumps of caramel do you want?" Tim asked cheerily.

The guy looked up from digging through his overly stuffed messenger bag. "Uhh…the normal four should be fine."

"Okay, that will be $6.47. Can I get a name for the order?"

The guy didn't look up this time. "Uh, Jason. Gimme a sec', I know my wallet is at the bottom of this thing somewhere."

"No problem, take your time. It's not like we have a line, anyway," Tim joked.

This guy looked so dead right now--inside and out--that if he didn't find his wallet, then Tim would probably just buy the coffee for the guy himself. He understood better than anyone the sudden need for caffeine at odd hours of the day. He's not sure how he would have finished half his computer science projects this term without a much-needed double-espresso every couple of hours, to be honest.

The guy--'Jason' apparently--finally fished out a small money clip then handed over a student ID card. "Put it on my Dining Dollars, please."

"Yeah, no probl- wait a minute!" Tim cut off, staring. Suddenly, it had hit Tim where he knew this guy. "Aren't you that kid who always sits at the front of Professor Hyatt's nine-fifteen, Tuesday-Thursday, Modern European Literature and answers all the questions?"

The dude raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Why…? Wait…" He squinted and leaned in. "Aren't you the kid who once tried to sit all the way back in the AV booth, since, and I quote, 'the back wasn't far enough back'?"

Tim grinned as he swiped the ID card through the register. "Haha, yeah."

Damian moved as if to step up to the counter, the guy's drink in hand, but stopped dead about a foot away. He stared.

"Wait. Aren't you the guy who always comes in, gets tea, and sits in the window over there and reads romance novels?" Damian asked, eying him appraisingly.

The dude huffed. "Yes. My name is Jason--by the way--and they're not romance novels, it's classic lit. Now can I get my coffee?"

Damian handed the coffee over the counter, but raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You mean to tell me Rebecca is not a romance novel?"

"Wait, what!? Do you mean Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca?" Tim asked as he handed Jason's ID card back over the counter.

Damian nodded wordlessly. Tim snorted, then said, "That's not a romance! That's a totally a murder mystery! You must be confusing it with Jane Eyre. I get those mixed up too."

Jason nodded in agreement, tucking his ID away before taking his first sip of coffee. He moaned, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he savored in the sweet bliss of piping hot caffeine at 3:49 in the morning, then he looked at Damian and said, "Well, actually, I'll give you that one, uh…" --he paused to squint at Damian's name tag-- "...'Damian'; Rebecca is a modern romance novel by classification, but it's also a crime thriller just like--whazzatsay?--'Tim' said."

He turned to Tim. "I'm not surprised you'd confuse it with Jane Eyre, considering that a lot of scholars believe du Maurier adapted it from Jane Eyre."

"Wait, really?" Tim said with a laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking that! Rebecca is like the less boring version of Jane Eyre."

Jason froze halfway into sitting down in one of the arm chairs that lined the wall closest to the door and looked up at Tim as if he had just suggested burning down the library or something similarly unthinkable. "Whaaaaaat?! I can't believe you just implied that any of the Brontë sisters' works is boring!"

Tim laughed again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was only twelve when I read Jane Eyre, so maybe I'd enjoy it more if I read it again now--with a mature perspective--but I remember Rebecca being a blast for thirteen-year-old me so…" He smiled, then shrugged.

Jason stared. "Twelve? Thirteen? Jeez. What else were you trying to read that young?"

"I mean, I read Moby Dick the year before that, in sixth grade," Tim admitted, shrugging until his shoulders hit his ears.

Jason gave him a flat stare. "Moby Dick? Moby fucking Dick? You've gotta be kidding me. And lemme guess, you also thought Herman Melville's masterpiece was a load of crock?"

Tim laughed, but shook his head and waved his hands placatingly. "No, no, no. I only understood, like, every fifth word--so.many.whaling.terms!--and it took me four months to get halfway in only to realize there was no way I was going to finish it by the end of the school year--I ended up skipping to the end and guessing for a lot of the AR test questions--but I definitely got the sense that it was a seminal work and that I was just too young to appreciate it. I've always meant to go back and try it again, but I still haven't gotten around to it."

"Why the hell were you trying to read Moby Dick at the age of twelve?" Jason asked incredulously, leaning back in the chair and taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Eleven, but, ah, well, my mom was convinced I had to be The BestTM in everything, so she pushed me to max out my Accelerated Reader level by the end of sixth grade and demanded that I always get the most AR points of anyone in my class, so I read a lot of the 20 point-and-up books." Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think Moby Dick was 47 points...Rebecca was 25...Jane Eyre was 33..."

Jason stared, shaking his head slowly. "So…what? You're fine with Moby Dick, a romance of the American Renaissance, but a gothic romance of the British Victorian era like Jane Eyre isn't good enough for you? Next you'll try to tell me you think Wuthering Heights is a snooze fest!"

"Well, I mean, I never could get into it, so…"

Jason slammed both hands down on the arms of his chair, incensed. "Okay, Mister, get your butt over here and sit down, we need to have a talk about Victorian Gothic and why, hands down, it is some of the best literature ever written."

Tim laughed again, then bit his lip, considering the offer. He glanced around the nearly empty coffee shop. Then he leaned over the counter and looked out into the lounge--there were exactly four people there and only one of them wasn't completely asleep in their books. Yeah, he could probably afford to humor the man.

He turned to Damian. "Hey, Dames, I'm going to make myself a coffee and take my break. You good to hold down the fort?"

"I told you not to call me that," Damian snapped, but there was no real heat to it; he liked to pretend that he hated the guts of all his coworkers, but Tim knew that he was Damian's favorite. "However, yes, I think I can manage. Go take your damned break, but when you come back I fully expect a rematch in bowling…and don't you dare cheat this time!"

Tim rolled his eyes and groaned, then turned toward trying to coax Ol' 'Spressolino--their affectionate name for the cantankerous espresso machine--into spitting out a double-shot for him. "It's not cheating, but fine, we'll do it your way," Tim replied. "But I'm telling you, you have to buy those rice crispy balls. I definitely don't want to have to explain to Barbara why some of the food on sale looks like it went through the spin cycle in a dorm washer."

Damian grinned smugly. "My pleasure. It will be a small price to pay in order to ensure your swift defeat."

Tim shook his head, grabbed his espresso in one hand and two biscotti off the front counter in the other, ducked under the counter drawbridge, then slid into the armchair across from Jason. He offered one of the biscotti to the other man and Jason accepted the free food with an appreciative smile. He already looked ten times less zombie-like, thanks to the caffiene, and he was honestly pretty damn attractive.

"Okay," Tim said, peeling the wrapper off his own biscotti and dunking it into his bitter cup of joy, "Educate me."

Between sips of coffee and bites of biscotti, Jason began explaining his thoughts on the romantic period of literature, but barely a minute into his lecture, a plastic-wrapped, ball-shaped rice crispy treat about the size of a cantelope whizzed by their feet and crashed into the ten extra-large paper coffee cups arranged in a bowling triangle at one end of the coffee shop, scattering them in a definitive strike.

Jason jumped in his seat and looked around wildly. "What the fuck?"

Tim sighed. "Daaaaaaamiaaaaaaan…"

"Shut up, Drake! I'm practicing. I need to hone my skills and adjust my form so I can thoroughly crush you in our next round," Damian called back. He marched from the counter to the end of the shop to retrieved his plastic-wrapped projectile.

Jason blinked in confusion. "I repeat: what the ever-loving fuck?"

Tim sighed again, then explained, saying, "It gets pretty boring in here during the graveyard shift, so we invented a game, coffee cup bowling. Normally, we'd sleep or study, but Damian finished his exams two days ago and I don't really study for exams, per se-"

"And sleep is for the weak," Damian finished, nodding as he walked past them carrying his sweet, gooey ammunition.

Tim nodded sagely, in agreement. "Sleep is for the weak."

Jason glanced over Tim's shoulder at the coffee cup bowling 'pins' and then over his shoulder at Damian as he lined up another throw. "You guys are insane," he declared.

Tim made a dismissive gesture. "I mean this is my third graveyard shift in a row and Damian here is almost 20 hours into a 24-hour stint. After that much sleep deprivation, you'd lose your sanity too."

Jason tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

"If you want, you're welcome to join us after we finish our coffee and literature talk," Tim offered amiably.

Jason watched as Damian threw another strike, sending one cup so far it landed in the pot of the ficus in the corner, and raised his eyebrows. "You know what…why not." He turned back to Tim with a grin. "I could use a bit of fun before I go back to work on my Native American Lit paper."

"Are you a lit major?" Tim asked curiously.

"I am."

Tim nodded. "That makes sense."

"And you?"

"I'm a CS major--computer science."

"That makes sense," Jason echoed, grinning.

Tim grinned back at him and waved a hand. "Okay, so as you were saying…?"

"Yes, as I was saying…"

Jason continued his little lecture while they continued sipping their coffee and nibbling on the biscotti. When they had finished--the coffee, not the discussion, because Tim was pretty sure Jason would go on for hours about literature once you got him started--they joined Damian in a game of "ten-cup."

It was in the middle of this heated battle of cups and marshmallow-bonded puffed-rice cereal balls that their next customer found them fifteen minutes later. The man, dressed in flower printed leggings and a black hoodie with "Gotham University Aerial Arts" printed across the chest in blue, took one look at them and grinned.

"Oh, hey! Coffee-cup bowling! I love that game! Do you think I could interrupt you guys for just a sec to get some hot chocolate?"

All three of them--the two baristas plus their customer--turned and stared.

"Hot… wait, what?" Jason said, laughing a little. "Man, it's like 4:30 in the morning. Why are you getting a hot chocolate at 4:30 in the morning?"

The man laughed, too, shrugging before he explained, saying, "I don't like tea or coffee all that much, but I just finished a 20 page paper on ethics in police enforcement and I need a pick me up. I need to get my warm fuzzies going again."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, moving back toward the counter to get the man his drink. "You're going to end up being the cuddliest cop on the street, Dick."

"You know it, Timmy!" the man--'Dick' apparently--exclaimed, pulling Tim into a bear hug when he made the mistake of passing too close to Dick on his way to the counter. The hug escalated into a full on octopus hug as he lifted his legs to wrap around Tim's hips. Tim, for his part, ignored the grapple, opening the leaf in the counter and hobbling over to the drink bar with the human cephalopod still attached.

Damian and Jason stared. Damian cleared his throat and eyed Dick with poorly disguised interest. "Wait, do you know this man, Drake?"

Tim blinked dully as he turned around, a cup in one hand and a packet of instant hot chocolate in the other. "Yes. He's my brother." Dick made a squeeing noise and nuzzled his head into Tim's neck. Tim sighed. "My adopted brother," he amended testily.

Dick laughed, dropped his feet back onto the floor and stood up. He nearly wrung Tim's neck as he tried to hug him around the shoulders. "Awww, don't be like that, Tim. We haven't seen each other in two whole weeks and I needed my Tim-hugs! Gotta meet my cuddle-quota."

Tim shook his head and handed the hot chocolate back over his shoulder. "You're insufferably, insatiably clingy when you're this tired, Dick. Go home and sleep."

Dick finally released him to take the drink. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, sighing in appreciation. "Thanks, Tim, and yeah, but, only if you do the same. You're just as bad as me when you haven't slept, if not worse."

"Can't. Working," Tim answered curtly, vaulting the counter to escape before Dick's grabby hands could reach for him again. His brother wasn't wrong; Tim was always up for a good cuddle after a long stint without proper sleep, but he didn't like public displays of affection.

Dick took one look at the nearly empty coffee shop, the three of them, their game, and then laughed out loud. "Ahhh, the days of getting paid to drink coffee and make up games at 4:30 in the morning. I kind of miss it."

"Would you care to join us," Damian asked abruptly. Dick brightened.

"Absolutely!"

And so that was how the four of them ended up bowling for empty coffee cups with rice crispy treats the size of spaghetti squash while blasting ABBA’s greatest hits--Dick's terrible, wonderful idea--until the sun rose and their shift ended, at eight AM.

By the time the four of them walked out the door, Dick was trying to convince Damian to join him in the aerials gym before breakfast, and Damian, clearly eager to do anything with the handsome college senior, accepted readily. Jason and Tim, on the other hand, were back to discussing literature over coffee--now focused on the merits and downfalls of contemporary science fiction and fantasy as an art form--and making their way to the East Campus Dining Hall, so they could continue their discussion over breakfast.

Tim snorted softly as he listened to Jason list all the ways Dune defined an era of sci-fi/fantasy, then smiled at the way Jason took his hand--without seeming to realize it--to pull him forward after the crosswalk light changed out of Tim's line of sight. Oh, yeah, this one was totally gay/bi/pan and he was definitely asking him out the minute he saw the opportunity, Tim decided.

He smiled. Who would of thought he'd come out of last night's graveyard shift not only having seen his demon coworker and his older brother hit it off--of all things!--but having met someone for himself too! He laughed, thinking, you never know what crazy things you might see, or the people you might meet, at the campus coffee shop at 4 o' clock in the morning!

#my writing #christmasriverswrites #jaytim #dickdami #tim and damian #pre-relationship #college au #no capes #new for 2020!#barely edited; life is rough right now 🙃

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

The Conversations - part 1/3

Pairing: Namjoon x OC; Yoongi x OC; Jungkook x OC Wordcount: 2.6k words Genre: slice of life Rating: suggested 18+ (Discussion of NSFW topics)

Hi lovelies! Here comes that new format I mentioned earlier this week. I imagined how the guys would discuss their girlfriends, having “The Chat” about kinks and habits, just talking, asking for advice and giving each other tips.

The first conversation is between Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook, talking about their girlfriends, respectively Kitten, Vixen and Candy.

There’s a little bit of everything (angst, fluff, smut), also, there’s a reference to Yoongi’s scenario in Magic Touch, I’ll just move on to disclaimers and trigger warnings.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of smut, oral (m/f giving/receiving), Jeongguk is whipped AND horny, various levels of filth (quickies, phonesex, boobjobs, bondage, waxplay, cumplay, spankings, daddy kink -- I AM SO FUCKING SORRY, THAT WAS SO SELFISH OF ME -- pornography, sex toys, blindfolds, breathplay and choking, sensation play, impact play, exhibitionism/voyerism), communication issues, mentions of premature ejaculation, past traumas and general traumatic experiences, Yoongi and tongue technology (do I even need to say this?) Namjoon is, quoting Yoongi, “a beast”. Final fondness.

Here you can find my masterlist!

———————————

Jungkook came out of his room with his head hanging low, heading straight for the terrace outside the kitchen. There Namjoon and Yoongi were drinking their morning coffee. It was roughly six am, a smoky dawn calling London awake. The summery hotness and the usual humidity announced another day of sweating and emptying water bottles.

Jeongguk’s hyungs, talking quietly, were in perfectly symmetrical positions, elbows propped on the railing on the edge of the terrace, holding the cups in their hands, looking at the mild sunshine foreshadowing an orange dawn.

“‘Morning.” They both turned.

“Morning Jeonggukie,” said Yoongi, slightly more reactive.

“Morning JK,” greeted Namjoon. “You headed to the gym?” He asked, not noticing the fact that Jeongguk was still in his pjs.

“I just called Candy.” He settled himself beside Joon.

“She all right?” Namjoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sort of. We fought a couple weeks before I left.” He dragged his hands roughly in his hair. “I just miss her a lot.”

“You’ve been dating for two months or something, right?” Yoongi asked.

“Yeah. We were quite new.” He replied.

“What do you miss of her?” Joon asked, sipping some coffee afterwards.

“Hyung, like. It’s a lot to unpack. We, you know...”

Namjoon gave him a side glance, his lips turning into a smirk. “You mean you’ve slept together.”

Yoongi struggled not to smile.

“A couple times.” Jeongguk admitted. He toyed with his fingers. “And then a lot.”

Yoongi couldn’t hold back a snort. “It’s okay.” He put down his cup on the wide edge of the balcony. “At the beginning you can’t ever let go.” He remembered the first weeks after he and his girlfriend had started being more physical. “The first times with Kitten… God.” He brushed his palm down his face. “I was a mess.”

“A good mess or a bed mess?” Namjoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t even know.” He laughed. “It was never enough.” He thought about the last time they facetimed. “Any spare moment was with her. Damn, I was down for anything. Quickies at lunch, calling her when I was done with practice to have phonesex, seeing her at three am just to get off the high.”

“Vixen’s a sucker for late night sex.” Joon offered to fill in the silence. “But she’s always game. Her sex drive is seriously impressive.”

“And you love it, don’t you, old sport?” Yoongi teased.

“I love many, many things of her.” Namjoon said before laughing.

The three stayed silent for a while.

“I miss sucking her tits.” Jeongguk murmured out of the blue.

Namjoon and Yoongi also stared into the void, lost in their own thoughts. After a few seconds Namjoon reconnected and looked at the youngest. “What the fuck, man?”

Yoongi licked his lips, then opened his mouth a couple times just to close it again, trying to find words.

“I mean, they’re so soft. And the shape is...” Jeongguk pressed his fingertips to his eyelids.

Yoongi emitted a strange sound.

“Are you okay, hyung?” Namjoon asked.

“Sorta. It’s just. Yeah, tits are great.” He said, half unconsciously, blinking in silence. “I mean, Kitten has a nice pair.”

“Am I the only ass man in this conversation?” Namjoon turned to look at both men, finding no sympathy.

“Vixen does have an incredible bum, sorry hyung if I looked.” Koo admitted.

“It’s okay, I also looked at Candy’s chest, but I swear it was not intentional.” Namjoon confessed.

“Do you think we’ll have some free time after the tour?” Yoongi murmured.

“Are you planning on fucking Kitten for, like, a week straight?”

“Sorta.”

“I just wanna die between Vixen’s thighs.” Namjoon whispered, lost in his train of thought.

“Send her to Hongkong?” Yoongi asked ironically.

“I mean, I hope we’re all in the oral team. Hyung, you for sure.”

“Loud and proud, boy.” Yoongi quipped back.

“JK?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah.” He replied, still lost in his own imagination. “Hyung, have you ever tied Vixen up?”

“No. Usually we get too caught up.” Namjoon took another sip of his coffee, but unfortunately his cup was empty. “Do you want some?” Joon asked Jeongguk, pointing at his cup.

“No, but could you get me some OJ, please?”

“Got you.” He went back to the kitchen.

“Are you thinking of playing with Candy?” Yoongi asked carefully.

“Don’t know. It would be new. As Namjoon hyung said, we also get too caught up, so I think I’ll need to plan it out, if we ever decide to.”

“Talk about it with her.” Yoongi recommended. “You should ask her what she likes. And tell her about what you like.”

Namjoon was back. “We doing the whole kink talk?”

“Just making sure that the kid knows about communication.”

“Right.” Namjoon nodded, handing Jeongguk his glass of juice.

“Did you and Vixen have the talk?” Yoongi asked, honestly curious. Namjoon’s girlfriend was a bit of a wildcard, looking classy and educated, but also endearingly nerdy, fond of nature and hopelessly in love with her boyfriend. Each time he saw how Namjoon melted everytime she cuddled and reassured him, Yoongi really hoped that the boy would understand how precious she is, how rare it is to be in love like that.

“We did. She was like ‘oh, yeah, by the way, would you mind spanking me every now and then?’”

Yoongi giggled. “I can only imagine your reply.”

“I think it was something like ‘that’s okay but would you put up with my daddy kink?’”

Yoongi positively squealed at that. Jeongguk was similarly amazed.

“But with her it’s like-- It’s so strange to explain. I guess the best way to say it is that half of the sex is mental.” He should have avoided the second cup of coffee. But it was already there. “It’s the talking. Putting her in the right mindset, making her feel loved on the brain.”

“Good thing you're smart, hyung.” Jeongguk said. “I would have zero chances.”

“It’s not being smart.” Namjoon replied, “It’s more of a-- connection.”

“I think that you having this… dominant, but also nourishing role really puts her into a mindset of full trust.” Yoongi commented.

“I think so.” Namjoon concluded. “And then the sex is mindblowing. Like, I get why everyone is so obsessed with it. Our limits are very similar, and in that we don’t feel like we’re limiting or pressing each other into things.”

“That’s good. But exploring can be fun.” Yoongi argued. “Kitten’s sensitive chest made me get into things I never thought I would explore.”

Namjoon again raised an eyebrow.

“Come on, hyung give me some ideas.” Jeongguk teased.

“You tits freak.” Yoongi joked playfully. “Hickeys, but that’s obvious. And a lot of mouth activity in general. Oh, boobjobs.”

“God, does that work?” Namjoon was skeptical.

“Depends. Lots of lube, and the right angle. Kitten puts her mouth on the head, that’s the trick.”

“That sounds incredible.” Jeongguk commented, saving the idea in a corner of his mind.

“Trust me, it is. We’re also dealing with a bit of a choking kink, but we’re approaching it carefully, Kitten tends to panic when she feels like she’s suffocating. And waxplay.”

“That’s a nice one.” Namjoon commented.

“Still getting into it. But she’s liking it a lot. We got the candle a couple weeks before tour. Used it twice. I can’t help but think about it.” He smiled, thinking about how Kitten had enjoyed experimenting that night, how loud she had been when she’d come apart, how she had curled up in a ball at his side, happy and sated, his own body spooning her. He missed his woman, missed the calm she carried around with her, missed her little voice, but also her whispering sweet nothings to him, petting his hair while he was falling asleep. In general, sleeping was way harder without her, his body waking up exhausted, his mind frail because he did sleep but he did not rest. He felt constantly restless.

“I really wanna try that too. But what about toys? Like I was thinking nipple clamps?” Jeongguk asked, his ears blushing a little.

“That kind of stuff must be tried together. The first few times Vixen and I experimented, we usually shopped together, so that we could understand what kind of sensation she could handle, what she would like, and what wasn’t her thing.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for example, if Candy is very sensitive, you should avoid clamps and go for tweezers, where you can pick the amount of pressure you want to put there. And that’s in term of pinching. Considering what you said about sucking, probably she could enjoy pumps. These days there’s pretty much anything, if you’re willing to look for it.”

“Toys, uh?” Yoongi questioned.

Namjoon lifted his shoulders. “You recommended experimenting. I like watching her. I’m really visual, so I like watching stuff.”

“Like movies?” Jeongguk asked. “Like watching them together? Adult movies?”

“Yeah, sometimes that too. Vixen’s very visual too. And we like finding inspiration every now and then.”

“By the way thanks for the advice, Kitten loved it.” Yoongi smiled like the cat that got the cream.

“You’re welcome.” Namjoon winked at him.

“I think I could try that, with Candy. It’s just that I get so shy about it. That’s why we fought.”

“You fought because you’re shy?” Yoongi asked.

“It actually started because I couldn’t look at her while she, uhm- While I was in her mouth?” Jeongguk shrinked into his shoulders. “Then it got bad because she said I never really look at her and she feels like I don’t like her, like I wished I were doing that with someone else. Which is absolute bullshit.” He looked upset.

Namjoon placed a hand between Koo’s shoulder blades. “You’ll work that out. If you really love her then the two of you will find a way around it.”

“Blindfolds?” Yoongi suggested.

“How?” Namjoon questioned, interested.

“I don’t know, maybe he’ll find confidence if he’s not feeling watched.”

“Hyung, I think that’s not it.” Jeongguk claimed, almost frustrated. “She wants to be watched by me.”

“Then why don’t you watch?”

“I’m afraid I’ll like it too much,” he said, brows knitted together. “That I’ll just last too little. I’m afraid she’ll judge me for what I like, for how I react.”

“The first time Vixen put her mouth on me I lasted literally two minutes.”

“Anytime Kitten puts her mouth on me I last literally two minutes.”

Both men laughed and high-fived each other.

Jeongguk smiled at the exchange. Seeing them like this made him really feel like anything could be fixed. They had found the right balance with their girlfriends, being in love and happy. He could have that too. Talking with Candy couldn’t be that bad if that's how he would feel afterwards. And probably Candy really wanted to have that conversation too, since she often asked him if he liked what she was doing, if he could show her how to do things right. He might get off in two minutes but if it were for him, he would probably feel proud if Candy couldn’t last two minutes below him. Candy would probably feel happy that he enjoyed it that much.

“Listen, no matter what they say, having too much stamina is not always that good. Vixen’s got a dollmouth. It’s so tiny it’s almost ridiculous. Lovely. Sometimes I feel like crying about it." His expression was getting dreamy." "But I’m going off at a tangent here. What I mean is that it’s physically tiring for her. Actually for most people. Jaw hurts, throat burns, gag reflex sucks, tongue cramps, anything.”

Yoongi nodded.

“And I’m sure your stamina is impressive, which means, maybe you’ll last two minutes in her mouth but hey, there’s second round.” He opened his arms in front of him, almost spilling the coffee.

“And third.” Said Yoongi. “If need be. Kitten needs minimum two.”

Namjoon groaned. “Vixen’s like… either a very good, powerful one, or a whole session. That’s when the toys come into help. With her it’s not a matter of how many but of how often. It goes from three or four times a week to everyday.”

“Good thing you’re a beast.” Yoongi commented.

“I do my best.” Namjoon replied honestly. “And again, it’s not like only fucking. Sometimes foreplay is just enough, you know.”

Yoongi nodded. “I could eat Kitten out just for the sake of it. Sometimes I don’t even need to fuck her, the pleasure is all in watching her.”

"I like watching Candy, when she cums. It's that whole look." He circled his open hand in front of his face. "And she said she likes watching me too. That's why she wanted me to… look at her."

"She probably feels empowered by it. Kitten likes feeling powerful when she gets me going. Same reason why I love eye contact when I eat her." Yoongi's voice was absolutely neutral, as if it were a mere clinical statement.

Jeongguk’s voice was tiny. “I’ve never eaten Candy out.” But God, if he wanted to...

Namjoon turned, alarmed but trying to keep it cool, sensing his discomfort.

“It’s always felt like she didn’t want it. Anytime I tried going there with my mouth, she’d drag me up towards her face. I seriously don’t get it.”

“You must talk it out, Ggugie.” Yoongi confirmed. “People have traumas, bad experiences, shitty exes -- and it might be her case. Kitten had never been eaten out before me. Said her ex didn’t like the taste. It took us a while, a blindfold and a lot of safewording to get through it.”

“Thanks, hyung.” Jeongguk replied.

“It’s okay, man.” By now the sun was rising. In a couple minutes the whole house would be awake, Jimin’s feet would pad softly on the plush carpet, his eyes still half closed from sleep. Jin would start moving kitchenware around, making a lot of noise to cook breakfast. Hobi would appear shirtless to grab his food and eat it on the sofa, chatting with his family or friends on the phone. Lastly Taehyung’s yawn would finally signal the beginning of their day.

“It’s beautiful.” Namjoon murmured, watching the sun rise.

“I really hope Candy comes back to me.” He thought about her tender smile, the one she had on her face after their first time. He thought about how she talks so soft in the morning, how she always texts him before going to bed. The mug in the kitchen that he had bought for her, the spare toothbrush in his bathroom at home. The smell of her shampoo, just perfectly sweet. Her legs tangled in his sheet. Her underwear smelling like his fabric softener. The way her mouth moves when she says his name. He missed it all.

“She’ll come back.” Namjoon enveloped an arm around his friend. “She loves you.”

“I hope I find someone that loves me like Vixen loves you.” He confessed.

“She’s special.” Joon’s eyes watered a little.

“Indeed she is,” Yoongi confirmed.

“Just like Kitten to you, hyung.” Joon looked at Yoongi. He looked truly emotional.

“Kitten’s a masterpiece.” He sniffled and put his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, lightly leaning in.

“A few days and we’ll be back to the girls. And it will be okay again.” Namjoon encouraged them, his dimpled smile hopeful at the rise of dawn.

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagine #bts headcanons #bts scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenario #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenario #bts conversation

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three-drink-amy · 5 years ago

Text

All the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights

Posting this today instead of Monday because my next One Quote, One Shot posts next week. I decided to spread them out a little. We’ll be back to Monday postings after this! Thanks for reading! I’ve loved the response to the story so far!

masterlist - AO3

Chapter Six - I Would Do Anything to Keep You Off My Mind

As production carried on, I began to notice it more. It wasn’t the same. I knew why. There wasn’t some unknowable reason that things felt off, that my joy wasn’t quite the same, that keeping a formal facade felt harder. It was Jamie. It was the way my feelings for him grew the longer I was around him. And to be honest, I hated it. I wished I’d cast him and then found out he was a raging asshole. But instead, I’d cast him and found out that I was right with my initial instincts of him. He was a good man and so easy to be around. Everyone thought so. He was warm and spirited. His excitement for the show was contagious. But I was keeping my distance, so I couldn’t feel it.

The night we’d sat talking in my office had only made things worse for me. Up until that night, I’d been pretty good at ignoring the way I felt — or better yet, denying it. But then that night happened. Now, I couldn’t ignore it. At night, I’d lay awake remembering the way he’d looked at me as we conversationally danced around the biggest elephant in the room. We’d acknowledged the events between us, but that hadn’t even been the worst part. Our conversations had been so easy. As if they were simply between a couple, conversing over dinner, catching up on their days.

And I wanted that to be it.

So, I’d withdrawn. Professionalism was important, above everything else. Jamie’s fear had been accusations that called us both into question. Well, no accusations could be made if it seemed like the director hated the lead actor.

I didn’t hate him. Far from it. But, I didn’t know how to be around him, not without hurting myself more. Withdrawing was easier. If anyone seemed to notice, they didn’t say anything. Once or twice, I caught John looking at me with a curious gaze. For the first time in his life, he seemed to have learned to keep his mouth shut.

And as for Jamie, well, he kept his distance too.

We had three weeks left until previews. I was making sure everything was perfect. That was my job, after all. John and I scuttled around behind the scenes to keep everything in order and keep the ship running. If I came down harder on the cast during these times, it was only because it was imperative. Previews came ahead of Opening Night. Both were important, but previews determined how well we sold at Opening Night.

I could tell that I was feeling more burnt out than usual. The awareness didn’t help the burn out, though. It felt like I’d been running a race and was close, but still too far from the finish line for the little energy I had left. It wasn’t usually like this. I lived for directing, for getting it all to come together. But this time was different. I didn’t have the same verve for it that I usually did. And my reason why was pathetic.

What kind of woman was I to just let a man distract me into ignoring my career? And he wasn’t even doing it on purpose. He distracted me just by being there.

That was how I found myself at a bar by myself on a Thursday night. I needed to drown my sorrows and give myself a pep talk. I was going to let the whisky do the talking. As I plopped down at the bar, a sad sound escaped me. It was then that I realized I’d gone to the same bar where I’d met Jamie. My head fell to my hands. Even when I wasn’t trying, it all came back to Jamie. I wanted him out of my mind. I wanted a do-over, with a fantastic actor for my lead role that I hadn’t had a one night stand with, who was stuck with me and making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling.

Resisting the tears that felt ready to spring to my eyes, I ordered a drink. I didn’t know how long I sat there nursing it. When I finished that one, I ordered another. Drinking may not solve my problems, but it didn’t hurt to try. I was still only on my second drink when I thought I heard his voice. I thought surely, it must just be my mind playing tricks on me. But then I looked up and saw him across the bar, same as last time.

Except that he was with Laoghaire.

I stared, ignoring how things were playing out so similarly. I knew, though, that I’d be going home alone this time. As I watched him, I wondered if he would too.

Laoghaire was obsessed with him. It was obvious to everyone. I’d heard Joe and Louise joking about it once. But I’d genuinely thought Jamie didn’t care for her. That night we’d had dinner, he’d seemed annoyed by her.

Perhaps that was just what I wanted to think.

I don’t know how long I was staring at him, but suddenly, he looked up and saw me. I saw the memory on his face. His eyes cut to the side, noting the girl next to him before looking back at me. He could tell what I was thinking. We stared at each other, neither of us moving this time. He didn’t come to me and I didn’t go to him. I couldn’t. How could I talk to him when my heart inexplicably felt like it was being stomped on? I had no claim on the man, but I wanted to snatch him from the other woman. But how could I tell anyone that when all we’d had was one night? I could barely explain it to myself.

Laoghaire demanded his attention again and his eyes shifted from me. I felt cold in their absence. I pounded back the rest of my drink, turning to get off my chair.

“Claire!” Laoghaire called from across the bar.

I closed my eyes, rolling them behind the lids, before I turned to look at them again. She was waving to me from across the bar. I wondered if she knew what she was doing. She hated me. I would have imagined she’d pretend I wasn’t there. Instead, she walked over to where I sat, dragging Jamie behind her.

“What brings you here, Claire?” she asked, a too sweet smile on her face.

“I’m sure she decided to come wi’ the rest of the cast,” Jamie quickly answered for me. “Since that’s why we’re here.” His eyebrows raised slightly, trying to convey his message.

“I didn’t realize anyone invited Claire,” Laoghaire said bluntly.

I shot her a strained smile. “No one did. Serendipity, I suppose.” I grabbed my purse. “I was just leaving, actually.”

“Oh no,” the other woman said with fake kindness. Her head turned and she looked in a different direction. “A booth just opened. I’m going to go grab it!” she told Jamie, patting him on the arm.

He didn’t acknowledge her comment, just looked down at me. “Ye should stay.”

“No one wants me here,” I responded.

“I do,” he answered quickly, his face grimacing a bit. “And I’m sure Louise and Joe would enjoy yer company. I think John’s going to be here,” he recovered. Of course. It couldn’t be about him.

“I appreciate it, but Laoghaire was right. No one invited me.” I stood up, turning to go, but he caught my arm.

“Claire,” he whispered.

I looked back at him. We were standing nearly where we’d been when we’d left together that night. And we both knew it. “Don’t, Jamie.”

“Ye dinna have to go.”

I looked down at his hand still on my arm, fighting off all the emotions coursing through me — all the feelings I’d been trying to shove down. I cleared my throat. “Yes, I do. I can’t —” I cut myself off. I couldn’t let him know the war raging within me. I pulled my arm back slowly. Without looking at him, I turned to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I could hear Laoghaire calling his name as I walked away from him. I was just outside the door when I passed Joe and John entering.

“Beauchamp!” Joe called. “I didn’t know you were coming to get a drink with us.”

“I’m not. Happy coincidence. Anyway, I’m going,” I told them, waving and walking away before either of them could try to convince me to stay.

I hid my face as I spotted Louise and another couple of actresses from the show. The less people I ran into that I knew, the better. I was losing steam, about to crash. No one needed to see that. I just hoped I could hold it all in until I closed myself into my own home.

I’d managed to do so and was changed into comfier clothes when a knock sounded through the apartment. I frowned, looking at the time. Who would be calling at this hour? My mind flickered to Jamie, but I reminded myself that he didn’t know where I lived.

Opening my door, I saw that it was John. He wore a nervous expression.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.” He walked in past me, not even waiting for me to welcome him in.

“Great. What’s up that can’t wait til tomorrow?” I closed the door and walked toward my living room where he was now sitting. I crossed my arms and stared at him expectantly.

“You’re off,” he said, not unkindly. “I don’t know why, but something is off. And I want you to know that I’m here.”

I deflated a bit. “You noticed, then?”

He shot me a sad look. “We’ve worked together plenty of times, Claire. I think I know you pretty well. I can predict how you’ll be at nearly every stage of production, down to the tricks you’ll use to get past the building anxiety. But this time...it’s different.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not accusing you of anything. You’re still doing an amazing job and the show is still going to be great. I just can tell that something’s off with you, personally.”

I sank down into a chair opposite him with a sigh. “I was hoping I was doing a better job of hiding it.”

“I think you are hiding it from everyone else,” he reassured me. “But you can’t hide these things from friends.” I nodded, debating what to say to him. “You want to tell me what’s going on? Maybe I can help.”

“You can’t.”

He tilted his head, giving me a look. “Try me.”

I felt the tears I’d held back earlier well up in my eyes. “I promise you there’s nothing you can do.”

“I can listen,” he offered.

I took a deep breath, debating how much I could say. “You’re right. Things have been different this time.” He leaned forward, encouraging me to continue. “During auditions, I...met someone. It wasn’t much of anything, it didn’t go very far. But I wanted it to. Very badly. And that feeling hasn’t gone away.”

“So, why not try to be with this person?”

“We can’t,” I confessed. I shook my head, trying to sort through the information I could give him. “It wouldn’t…” I trailed off, not knowing how to finish my statement. It wouldn’t work. That seemed bloody wrong. I knew we’d work. It wouldn’t be right. I’d met plenty of other couples who’d met through work. It wouldn’t really be wrong. It wouldn’t last. I thought of the easiness between us, and damn, if it didn’t make me wonder.

“Why can’t you be with this person?” John pressed. “Legally? Reputationally?”

“Is that a word?”

He rolled his eyes. “Really? That’s what you’re focusing on right now? You’re stalling. Stop. Come on.” He fixed me with a hard stare. “Claire, I promise you that anything you have to say to me will stay between us. Okay?”

The first tear rolled down my cheek.

“Do you remember the morning we were casting male leads?” He nodded. “I came in and you told me I looked like shit.”

He laughed to himself. “Yes, I did. And frankly, you did.”

I let out a wet laugh. “Yeah, I probably did.” I swallowed thickly, preparing to tell him more of the truth. “The night before, I’d gone out to a bar and met him. We went home together and, well…”

“Sure. So did something happen after that?”

That was when I fell silent again. I could tell John was eager to know the whole truth. I felt more tears trickle down my cheeks.

“Claire, come on. Safe space.”

My voice was a whisper. “It was Jamie.”

“What?”

I huffed. “The guy from the night before auditions was Jamie.”

“Jamie Fraser?”

“Yes.”

I watched as his mind tried to sort itself out. “Hold up, you and Jamie? You slept together?”

I closed my eyes as I nodded. “Look, I didn’t know who he was. I gave him a fake name and he didn’t know who I was. We slept together and then the next morning, I went to auditions.”

“But wasn’t that the same morning he auditioned?”

“Exactly.”

John’s mouth dropped open. “Wow.”

“I was the reason he almost didn’t take the part,” I confessed.

He shook his head, trying to process it all. “Why?”

“Because he didn’t want to be accused of sleeping with the director to get the part.”

“But he didn’t know who you were. And Marilyn and I both wanted him and we didn’t know you’d slept together,” he pointed out. “Probably a good thing too, because I think Marilyn would have been jealous.”

I sputtered out a laugh. “Yeah, I made that case as well.”

“Wait, if he didn’t want to take it because of that, what made him decide to accept the part?”

I paused, deciding if I should go back to lying. I was in too deep, I had to keep telling the truth. “I convinced him to.”

“With your body?”

I threw the nearest pillow at him. “John!”

“What? He’s apparently into you!”

“You bloody bastard!” I shook my head at him. “No, rather the opposite. His problem was me, so I volunteered to step down as director if he would take the part.” John gaped at me. “I knew how perfect he was for it and I knew how desperately you wanted him to have the part and it seemed like the only way for it to happen.”

His hands slid down his face. “You were willing to give up your job to make him take the part?”

“I could have gotten another one,” I mumbled.

“Claire, that’s huge.” He shook his head. “Were you ever going to tell me this?”

“No, of course not. It was my secret shame.”

“Claire, you didn’t know who he was! It’s not like you let him sleep with you to actually get the role. That’s when it would be shameful.” I nodded, unsure how to respond. I’d told myself as much a hundred times before. “So, was it his decision to keep you on or did you back out on your promise?”

I glared at him. “It was his decision. That was why he called the meeting with us.”

There was a long silence between us as John absorbed all the information. “Wow.” He sighed. “So now you want to be with Jamie.” I closed my eyes, sending more tears down my cheeks. I nodded, unable to say it out loud. “Well, have you told him as much?”

“God, no! He doesn’t want to be with me. I’m just the fool who can’t get past one fucking night together.” I laid my face in my hands. “Except that it wasn’t just one night.”

“What?” John cried.

I realized how that sounded. “I mean, we only slept together one night, but I didn’t feel this strongly for him just then. It certainly started then, but it got worse when I got to know him.”

John nodded understandingly. “Yeah, he’s a charming guy.” He watched me for a moment. “Maybe you should tell him.”

“Shut up, John. I’m not putting myself out there when I know I’m just going to get shot down. I’m not a glutton for punishment.”

“Why are you so convinced that he wouldn’t want to be with you? He went home with you, didn’t he?”

“Actually, I went home with him,” I clarified, though I wasn’t sure why.

He chuckled. “Okay, fine. He took you home with him. Why are you so sure that he won’t want you now?”

“Because of the way he acted after his audition,” I told him. “He seemed genuinely pissed every time he saw me. And told me, in no uncertain terms, that the reason he didn’t want to take the part was me. How am I supposed to turn around and beg him to be with me? And what about his fear of the rumors? That’s valid!”

John rolled his eyes. “You think too much.”

“Yeah, well the last time I didn’t think too much, I got myself in this position.”

John’s eyes lingered on me as a silence filled the room. “So how good was he?”

“John!”

“I would guess if you’re this hung up on the guy, it was pretty darn good.”

“I hate you right now.”

“Look, Claire, no one would look down on you for dating an actor,” John tried to assure me. “It happens all the time. You know it does. Marilyn’s married two different actors.”

“Yes, because you know I spend my life wanting to emulate Marilyn.”

“Fine, forget about her. But do you really want to be this miserable?” he asked. “Production is your favorite part and this time, you’re not acting like you.”

I felt my face crumple. I knew everything he said was true. I’d recognized it myself that I wasn’t enjoying it all the same as I usually do. But I knew that Jamie’s career was more important than my feelings. He knew it too. It’s why he’d avoided me the same way I’d avoided him. I couldn’t be the one to bring him down.

“I don’t know how to get past this, other than to do what I’ve been doing. Keep my head down and keep going. Focus on the show.”

“And how’s that working for you?”

I glared at him.

“Look, I appreciate your concern. And your future discretion,” I said, pausing to give him a look. He nodded. “But the wall is too big to climb. It’s best for me to just stay on my side and pretend the wall isn’t there.”

John rolled his eyes. “I disagree with you, but I can tell you’re not going to budge. Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret.” He stood up, turning to leave. “If it helps, I don’t think anyone else has noticed.”

I stood up to see him out. “It does, thank you.”

He nodded, offering me a sad smile. “You’d be a catch, Beauchamp. Think about it.”

I smiled in appreciation, already knowing I wouldn’t take his advice. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I closed the door behind him, I felt a weight lifted. I still couldn’t be with Jamie. I still couldn’t tell him how I felt. But sharing the truth with John had helped. However small, a weight had been lifted.

Next chapter

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #my writing #all the shine of a thousand spotlights

278 notes · View notes

r6s-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

bandit x reader >> way with words

•••

requested: no

word count: 1,244

warnings: cursing, awkward conversation, poor writing

•••

summary: what was supposed to start as a prank turned into a very awkward confrontation.

•••

dominic prepared his plan weeks before. he memorized your schedule, recorded every mention of your agenda just for this very moment. elias has assisted him executing the exciting part, cutting and pasting duplicates of every item of your office into cardboard. he was to sneak into your room, hand all objects to elias and replace them with their poorly made counterparts before you could come back from a meeting.

he peered into the room, calling your name once. it echoed off the walls and he turned to elias, nodding once.

you and dominic have been in a long lasting prank war, pissing off the majority of the rainbow team. the gsg9 have been shamed in helping dominic, claiming that operators should have no time for childish games such at those. even monika teamed in, providing insight for your downtime as she slept in the room beside yours. the four members slipped each other intel during the week, all coordinating for one moment.

he grabbed your monitor first, turning and handing it to blitz. keyboard, mouse, pc, and any book you had on your shelf. he started with your dictionary, then some miscellaneous binders. his eyes caught a well-crafted leather bound book, golden lettering on the spine. he took it out of curiosity, fingers gracing the now-legible title: journal.

"something important?" elias asked, stepping in. "y/n's gonna be back in twenty."

"look," he responded, leaning towards his friend. "journal."

"we're not kids," elias protested, whispering frantically. "she'll kick your ass. just hide it somewhere else!"

ignoring his friend's advice, he flipped open the book, skimming the first few pages.

"this is from back when she joined rainbow," dominic observed, eyebrows raised. "who knows what's in here."

he began to read out loud.

"august second," he said, theatrically. "i was welcomed with open arms. meals are adequate and missions are preplanned to ensure success. many have wished my good luck following my opening and have provided assistance and advice to improve my abilities. some have caught my eye more so than others."

"this is not worth our time, let's just replace everything and bug off!"

"november twenty-third," dominic continued. "we met eyes again today. he was working on his device, watching me with his icy glare as always. i could never figure out what emotion he had, interest nor dissatisfaction with my presence. i can’t help but admire his amalgamation of personality traits. his motivation could be like iron, similarly to his ambition to make you smile. i’m more than willing to befriend him.”

“wonder who she’s talking about,” elias said. “could be you.”

“she would never,” dominic replied. “i’m not worth her time.”

“don’t think like that!” blitz replied. “you never know.”

“november twenty-ninth. i fell victim to hazing, particularly from bandit. he assumed the best idea to welcome me was place a fleet of glasses in my room. of course, they had to be upside down, sending me into a flurry of towels and soaking uniform. my hardware was severely destroyed, and i was about ready to send them to dry outside, but i was gifted a new console courtesy to rainbow.”

“that was a good one,” blitz said.

“but here, check this;” his eyes followed the page. “here’s the following week.

i wasn’t sure if feelings were reciprocated or sympathized with. the winks he sends, the pranks he planned, it all seem good-hearted. perhaps it’s my affections taking over, those in which i willingly admit are evident. i feel myself growing into a fumbling fool instead of the person i was when recruited. his strong body and piercing eyes never cease to entrap me in his aura. perhaps dominic is a player, someone to toy with my doubts and play them to boost his ego, but i doubt it was such. he knew what he was doing, how he was doing it, and why. i’ve been debating to bring it up into a casual conversation, test the water you might say. however, from the countless times i’ve had to watch my back, i’d say he’s more focused on festivities than romance.”

“dominic, listen to that! you’re her little honigkuchenpferd!” kötz teased with a childish accent whilst shouldered his friend, now happily leaning over his shoulder to get a taste of your writings.

“nonsense! it’s likely a platonic yearning or the like. now come on, we’ve got to do what we came here to do.”

light footsteps were heard only meters away, and elias made a bolt for the door. dominic froze in place, hands stiff and spine rigid.

“who on earth?” you mumbled quietly, observing the multiple belongings outside your door. “so much for an eviction notice.” you giggled to yourself.

you turned the corner, sighing in exhaustion before looking up, half-awake eyes shooting open in surprise.

“dominic?” you inquired, unsure of how to react. your eyes trailed to his arms, finding your precious journal closed in his grasp. you reached forward and snatched it, holding it close. your face burned and you felt as if your skin was covered by a layer of heat. dominic grew hot as well, scratching his neck and feeling the pulsing, twitching temperature of his flesh. “why’s my stuff outside? and the... cardboard...?”

he did not reply, he merely gazed at you through his thick eyebrows, face never changing. he gestured a hand to the book, fighting a guilty grin.

“my... book? it’s a compendium. record keeping and such,” you struggled to explain, dodging the correct answer.

“you can just call it a diary,” bandit teased, slipping a smirk. “i won’t tell.”

“you didn’t read it, did you?”

“his strong body and piercing eyes never cease to entrap me in his aura,” dominic quoted hesitantly.

“son of a bitch! look... i’m sorry you had to find out this way. you don’t have to reciprocate anything, and i know it’s a lot to take in especially considering we work together, and—“

“you can stop talking now.” he blurted. you look of complete desperation turned to pure confusion as you both halted your conversation.

“i’ve fucked up royally, haven’t i?” you began, tears in your eyes. “i don’t know what i was thinking, dom. it’s been so long since anyone’s ever cared for me as much as you do.”

bandit placed both of his hands onto your shoulders as if to keep you upright. his thumbs dig into your collarbone, the pressure almost forcing you to cry.

“don’t make this any more awkward for yourself than it has to be, y/n,” he finally spoke. “you have nothing to stress about.”

“you’re joking!” you said through tears. “i’ve spent, what, four months with rainbow and i’m already in love with someone who treats me just like everyone else!”

he moved in, meeting his lips with yours. his beard tickled you but you pressed on, in such a state of wanting and desire for approval that you grabbed his upper arms, keeping him in place. one of his hands went to your waist, pulling you closer.

you wiped your tears, sniffing.

“i don’t kiss my friends,” bandit joked.

“that’s what you want her to think!” elias called from a distance.

“kötz!” he yelled angrily, approaching the door. you snatched his hand, stopping his movements.

“you’re gonna let me clean all this by myself?” you questioned. “seems absolutely fair.”

“you’ve got such a way with words,” dominic chirped. “you’re lucky i like you, or i’d leave this to rot outside.”

#r6s #rainbow six siege #siege #siege x reader #siege imagine #bandit x reader #bandit #bandit imagine #plague writes

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alteridolriley · 6 years ago

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67 - When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More - (Human/High School AU - Patton (sophomore) is captain of the dance team and virgil (freshman) is a new transfer student who has rumors going around that he hurt someone bc he was expelled from his previous school)

Words: 1,705 - Virgil knew it was wrong. Getting a crush on the kindest, sweetest boy in school while also having a criminal record and rumors tied to your name was a terrible idea. Virgil knew Patton would never give him the time of day since he was always so busy with the dance team. But seeing Patton leading the group of dancers during pep rallies made the rally itself so much more bearable. Patton was so adorable. He always had on the biggest smile, showcasing his dimples. His bright blue eyes seemed to pierce straight into Virgil's heart. Everyone loved Patton. He was always surrounded by friends at school. Even when Virgil would run into him in the bathroom, Patton had at least one person waiting for him. Virgil wondered what that was like. Being the transfer student, with the rumors going on around him, people tended to avoid him. Didn't help he had the emo look to help him look quote on quote "dangerous". Virgil got lost in his thoughts as he walked back to his class from a locker visit. Without even looking up from his phone, something suddenly slammed into him, causing virgil to fall back, slamming his head onto the tile floor. "Its what you deserve." Someone scoffed loudly. Virgil rubbed his head as he sat up, feeling lightheaded. He looked up to see a student he didn't recognize staring daggers down at him. If looks could kill, he'd be dead. "You should apologize for running into me, Mr. Violent. Who knows what the school might do if I tell them you're harassing me?" The bully said. Virgil ignored them, choosing to pick up his scattered papers and binders. "Excuse me, are you listening?" The bully snarled, kicking Virgil in his waist, knocking him back onto the ground. Virgil coughed as the air was pushed out of his stomach. He clutched his torso in pain. "Hey!" Another voice called. Virgil opened his eyes to see Patton standing just outside the restroom door across the hall. "What are you doing, Luke?" He asked hotly. Virgil had never heard Patton so mad before. "Nothing coach." Luke said, shrugging his shoulders. Virgil noticed in that moment that Luke and Patton were similarly dressed. Dance team sweats. "This asshole bumped into me and then refused to apologize." "You can cut the lying, Luke. I saw it all." Patton retorted, pushing past Luke and over to Virgil. Patton helped Virgil to stand after gathering his things off the floor. "I suggest apologizing to Virgil. He didn't do anything to you." Luke glared. "You can't prove he didn't." "Maybe I can't. But that newly installed camera over there can." Patton explained as he pointed to a nearby exit. The camera hung down from the middle and pointing right at them. "If you had listened during the pep rally maybe you would've remembered when Mrs. Chambers told us about the new motion detected and voice activated camera systems." Patton smirked as the color drained from Luke's face. Without a word, the bully pushed past them and down the hall, vanishing from sight. "Hey... you okay?" Patton asked, during all of his attention back to Virgil. Virgil felt a bit dazed but overall felt okay. "Y-yeah. I'm fine. Really. Um... thank you, Patton." He felt his face growing hot. "Are you sure?" Patton asked. "Your face is really red--" he reached out to feel Virgil's forehead, but Virgil pulled back just out of reach. "No! No..." Virgil coughed. "I'm fine. I am. Sorry you had to help me. Uh..." he fiddled with his papers, not really looking at Patton. "How did you know my name?" Patton raised his eyebrows a bit as he bit his lip. "Well, I hear the rumor mill a lot being the dance team captain." Virgil's heart sank. "Oh... yeah-- of course you would. Hey um... I'm gonna go." He turned to leave, only to have Patton grab his wrist. "I don't believe what they say about you. I truly don't." Patton said softly. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here, okay?" Virgil shook his head. "You don't want to hang out with me. It'll ruin your reputation around here right?" Patton shrugged. "I don't really care if it does or doesn't." He said simply. "Virgil, being honest, I've been interested in you since you first arrived." It was Patton's turn to blush. "I wanted to say something earlier, but I didn't want to overwhelm you and I tend to be followed around a lot. I don't have many friends." Virgil suddenly felt terrible. All those times he could've said something to Patton and all that time, Patton wanted to say something to him too? "Meet me behind the bleachers in the gym today?" Patton asked. "Our practice starts at 4:30. So I have some time." Virgil nodded. "Okay." Patton smiled brightly and Virgil felt his face grow hot again. "Yay! See you then!" Patton waved and took off down a nearby hallway, his sneakers scooting sound echoing loudly.

Virgil sat there and stared at the clock on the wall. It was 2:55pm. Classes ended in 20 minutes. In 20 minutes he would be alone with Patton Foster behind the gym bleachers.

As the blood rushed to his face even worse, Virgil turned on his heel back to his class.

Focusing was, luckily, unnecessary as when Virgil arrived back in class, all of the students were talking. Virgil snuck back into his desk, quickly taking down the few notes he had missed in the notebook he had gone to his locker to get.

"Virgil."

Virgil looked up to his teacher, Mr. Picani, waving at him to come up to his desk. Virgil took the long way around his classmates but eventually arrived at the desk.

"Yes sir?" Virgil asked. He held his hands together nervously.

"I passed out a homework assignment while you were going to your locker. Here you go." Mr. Picani said with a smile. Virgil glanced at the math packet and released a breath. Good. He wasn't in trouble. "Also, I just wanted to let you know, all of the teachers are aware of the rumors going around about you. We will take care of it soon. There's only so much we can do unfortunately. But just know we are on your side, okay?" Mr. Picani placed his hand on Virgil's shoulder and squeezed.

Virgil bowed slightly to his teacher. "Thank you sir..." he turned and walked back to his seat only for the bell to chime as he arrived.

All of his classmates clambered out of the classroom quickly. Virgil felt his heart start to race as he packed up his last book into his backpack.

He walked out of the class and towards the center of the school to the gym. Upon walking inside, Virgil saw all of the dance team member stretching and getting ready.

"Pssssst."

Virgil looked towards the bleachers to see Patton waving at him. Virgil quickly walked over and slipped into the small opening between the two sets of bleachers. It was an obvious hangout spot as there was trash laying all over the floor and discarded drinks and bags.

"I'm glad you came." Patton started as he sat down on his varsity jacket. "I kinda wondered if you were actually going to." He scratched his head.

Virgil shrugged. "I mean... it's not like I can tell the most popular kid in school "no"?" He meant it as a joke but Patton's eyes drooped.

"Yeah I guess not..." Patton leaned over, grabbed a light blue water bottle and took a swig. "But I'm honestly just a figurehead for it all." Virgil sat down across from him. "I'm the captain because I'm good at what I do. That part is true. But I'm far from being the most popular. Most people say I'm just a goody two shoes, walking around buddy buddy with the teachers so I can get what I want." Patton took another drink. "I'm not Patton to them. I'm Foster, the top dance team member, honor roll, probably will be valedictorian."

Virgil could see a gloss look cover Patton's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but Patton continued.

"When you started at school, you were the first person to talk to me like I was just another student. You didnt talk to me to get anything out of me..." Patton smiled. "I admired you for that." He fiddled with his bottle. "Then I heard the rumor. The rumor that you had assaulted someone and had a criminal record." Virgil felt his body tense up. "I'll be upfront with you. I did some digging online and I found what actually happened...and I'm so sorry."

Patton reached his hand out and Virgil gently took it into his own. "Thank you Patton." Virgil said softly. He felt his hands trembling but he was powerless to stop it. Patton took his other hand and Virgil's, holding Virgil's in between his own. "I-- I have wanted to speak to you for awhile now, Patton. But I... I was afraid." Virgil felt his face grow hot. "But it's great to know you're just as kind as you look."

Patton blinked, his own face flushing a bit. It was in that moment both boys realized how close they were sitting to each other. Their eyes met and without any words, both leaned forward and their lips touched. It was soft and dry. Minty and sweet.

"I'm sorry." Patton pulled away. "Are you sure you--"

Virgil cut him off by crossing the gap between them and kissing Patton again. This time it was passionate and messy as Virgil held onto Patton's cheeks gently. Patton ran his hands through Virgil's hair. It was quiet as the two parted lips, leaning back and smiling sheepishly at each other.

"I like you, Patton. Your smile, your laugh, your kind heart." Virgil explained. "I hope... I hope that's okay."

Patton smiled, showing off his cute dimples. "I like you too, Virgil. A lot. Your understanding, strength, and your resilience."

The boy's leaned together, touching foreheads and laughing. This was their moment and it was just the start of many more moments to come.

(Prompts are closed!)

#sanders sides #moxiety #romantic moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #kiss prompts #vigilantvirgil writes #vigilantvirgilwrites #vigilantvirgildoesprompts #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction

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honeymoonjin · 5 years ago

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Chapter Nine

Summary: When you hear that your recently deceased grandmother left you her property in her will, at first you think that a dinky old cottage in the middle of nowhere isn’t going to mean much for you. But after spending a night there, you discover something far more valuable than the house itself: a hidden door that leads to another time, the same place but over 200 years in the past. In the late 18th Century, there is a king who will die before his 21st birthday unless you can save him. Will you help him, even if it means leaving your own life behind?

“I spy with my little eye something beginning with… C.”

The tired sigh behind you tickles the back of your neck slightly. “Clouds.”

You pout and slump against the solid chest behind you. “Dammit, you’re good at this.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, you’ve been playing this childish game for over two hours now. This is the third time you’ve chosen clouds.”

You twist around to try and face the Royal Guard, but he reaches up with a leather-gloved hand and turns your chin back to face ahead of you. “Well, maybe, but they were different clouds than last time. So it’s different. Anyway, I’m bored. Are we there yet?”

“Judging by the fact that my horse is still in gallop, surely you can work out that my answer is no.”

“Come on, Hacky Sack, live a little.” The constant motion of the horse between your legs is starting to hurt, and you want nothing more than to curl up in a warm bed and enjoy being stationary for a while.

“My name is Hoseok and you know that.” The guard has entertained your boredom-riddled attempts at conversation since you started off on this trek, but you didn’t know how long that would last. “Besides, if you had been trained like a proper lady, you would’ve been able to ride your own horse and we would’ve caught up to the others by now. Worry not,” he adds quickly, “I believe I can see the riding party making camp just around this next bend.”

“Oh, thank fu- thankful, I’m so thankful that we’re almost there. ‘Cause I really need to pee.” A thought occurs to you and you let out a dreary moan. “Oh no, I’m gonna have to pee in the bushes. I hate camping.”

But the man behind you is no longer listening, instead he speeds up the horse beneath you and you latch on even tighter to the handle on the front of the saddle. “Your Highness,” he calls out in relief, “we’ve arrived at last!”

As you turn the corner and the trees part into a clearing, your breath is taken away. Hoseok was right, there are three other men down there, two of them dressed similarly to Hoseok, tying up and feeding their three horses, and then the King himself, looking particularly radiant in the glow of the rising sun.

Beyond him, a fairly vast lake glitters in the light, remarkably clear. Of course, you note, there’s no water pollution back in the 1700s. King Jeon turns to face the two of you as you approach, and the backlighting of the sun casts an orange halo around him, leaving his silhouette almost black. You squint as he waves, wanting to catch a glimpse of his face, but you’re forced to shield your eyes.

“My dear friend,” the King replies jovially, “and his companion, the lovely healer. We’ve been anxiously awaiting your arrival.” As you finally catch up to the party and Hoseok slows the horse to a halt, you make out an infectious grin on the young leader’s face. “Do join us. It’s perfect weather for a swim.”

Your joy at finally having reached your destination vanishes when you remember your purpose in being here: don’t let the King drown so that your present day boyfriend won’t fade away like in Back to the Future. Is that how these things really worked? You didn’t know, but you knew you needed to avoid it at all costs. “You’re crazy, the water will be freezing!”

You suck in a pained breath when a pointed finger jabs you in your ribs. The Royal Guard bends down to hiss in your ear. “Do not speak to your King that way.”

Jeon himself seems less bothered. “Ah, my loyal subject, so concerned for my health. Why don’t you get in first and tell me if it’s warm enough or not? Then I might believe you.”

You eye the still lake with distaste. As much as it’s an ulterior motive, you weren’t lying about the water being cold. The sun was only just rising as you made your way here, and you were certain it wouldn’t have warmed the water already. “Fine. But when I catch a cold, I’ll expect royal compensation for my services.”

Hoseok pokes you roughly again as King Jeon laughs incredulously. “Insolent little thing, aren’t you?” he comments rhetorically. “Hoseok, help her off your steed.”

The guard unceremoniously complies, making no effort to have your descent be a steady one. You stumble a little on the solid ground, knees wobbling beneath you, and stretch out your back, feeling the vertebrae in your spine shift and groan. You crouch down to begin untying the leather laces of your boots. “I’ll dip my toe in and let you know, how about that?”

Suddenly his voice goes dangerously flat. “Your jibes are charming, but you fail to realise I’m not joking. If you’re so determined I don’t go swimming – the entire reason I came here today – then I expect you to get in that lake and prove to me it’s too cold. Would you like to see what happens when you disobey an order from the King, Y/n?”

You swallow hard, and look up. He’s standing directly in front of you now, casting a cool shade over you, and he looks more intimidating than you think you’ve ever seen him, eyebrows narrowed. “O-of course, Your Highness, it’s just… I didn’t bring any other clothes, and I don’t want these to get wet.”

“Then don’t wear them in the water, Y/n,” he answers immediately in a matter-of-fact tone. He holds your startled gaze for a moment, then breaks out into a teeth-baring grin. “I’m just messing with you, sweet healer, you don’t have to worry about your clothes getting wet. This is a swimming trip; my servants have prepared towels and additional clothing for us.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the other two guards, which are unpacking the bags they had brought with them. “You can go for a swim in your underclothes like the rest of us, and then you can duck behind those trees there to get changed into some fresh ones. I’m sure what my servants have packed will be far beyond the quality of any clothes you’re used to. Go on, then. Get in.”

You glance once more at the burly men laying a folded pile of white cotton clothing on a blanket. He was, at the very least, telling the truth. Even though the situation wasn’t ideal, you had gotten yourself into this mess, so you reluctantly continued to undress yourself, thanking your lucky stars you had actually chosen to wear the petticoat under your tunic and leggings. Once you were done, you crossed your arms over your chest defensively. White cotton and the lack of a bra didn’t go well in cold weather.

His eyes darted down, a hint of pink poking out between his lips, and then the King began approaching the water’s edge. You follow dutifully, toes immediately going numb under the freezing damp dirt of the bank. Cringing as you waded in, feeling the frigid water rising up your legs, and mud squidging between your toes, you stopped when the lick of the slight ripples hits your lower back, and turned around to face the four men, now far enough away that you had to raise your voice slightly.

“Yeah, you won’t want to come in here, King Jeon,” you call out, “you’ll catch your death in here! It’s too cold!”

He raises a hand to shield his eyes from the sun behind you. “Why, thank you for the advice, kind maiden! Fear not, I prefer swimming in cold water!” And without further words, he bends down and shucks his pants off, kicking his boots away towards the camp.

You gape open-mouthed at the rapidly undressing patriarch. “Hey!” you yell angrily. “You said you wouldn’t come in if I told you it was cold!”

“I said I would believe that the water is cold should you test it out for me. And I believe you! I just don’t particularly care.”

Kicking up your legs, you splash your way to shore, protesting loudly as he continued to strip down. Stopping when all that remained was baggy white pantaloons, Jeon practically skipped in, meeting you halfway.

Once you come to a sudden halt in front of him, panting slightly, you’re greeted with the welcome sight of a near naked King Jeon. His skin is more golden than you remember; the pale wash of post-stabbing now faded away. There’s still a scar on his side, but it’s surprisingly thin and flat considering the lack of proper medical equipment here. The water is lapping at his thighs, and it’s all you can do not to drool over them. “Uh, okay,” you start nervously, “maybe just stay out to this far. Don’t wanna go too deep, you know.”

He quirks an eyebrow in amusement, staring down at you. “That won’t do. I always go deep.”

You blink, unsure if that was meant to be an innuendo or not. Nevertheless, you feel your cheeks heating up, even as the rest of you begins to shiver. “A-as your personal healer, I have to recommend that you avoid swimming today, Your Majesty. Please.”

His smirk falters a little as he takes in your serious countenance. “I suppose it would be in my best interests to listen to the expert, then,” he says softly, before his grin returns to full beam. “I’ll need a little more convincing, though. Some incentive. Are you going to make me an offer I can’t refuse?”

You recoil slightly at the weirdly familiar quote. “What?”

King Jeon laughs. “Jin, my other healer, always says that. When he’s haggling for herbs in the market. ‘Your Highness, don’t you worry. I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.’ I just meant that-”

“I know what you meant,” you interrupt. That quote, you recognise it. How could you not? That iconic line in the Godfather, a movie that wouldn’t be released for over a hundred years. “Your Majesty, if I wasn’t here, would you have brought Jin with you to the lake?”

He shrugs. “Of course. I go nowhere without at least one healer by my side.”

Things are beginning to make a weird kind of sense. You don’t know the why, but you’re starting to realize the what. King Jeon’s life didn’t seem to be in danger from drowning today, but perhaps it was because it was you here beside him, and not the healer who was apparently familiar with movie trivia from the 1970s.

Perhaps you weren’t the only person out of time here.

TAGLIST Message me or send an ask to be added to the taglist for Sovereign, and never miss a new chapter!

@sonyeonsideupsmile @sweetcheeksdna (I can’t seem to tag you!) @hoodiebangtan @mntchcchp @shay-the-turtle @under-dah-sea

#bts x reader #bts au #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #jin #hoseok

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sushigirlali · 6 years ago

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The Politics of Dancing - Part I (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

Summary: Ben has known Rey most of her life, but when things change between them one tumultuous night, can he convince her that they have a future? Or will secret legacies, scheming parents, and fetching suitors get in the way?

Parings: Rey + Ben Solo|Kylo Ren, Finn + Rose Tico

Continuity: Regency AU

Rating: E

A/N: Pride and Prejudice is my jam, so I’ve been wanting to set a story in the Regency period for a long time. This is also a Christmas fic, so happy belated holidays, everyone! Also, special shout-out to a few of my fellow Capricorn mutuals! Happy Birthday, @rad-braybury & @dvrkrey & @atchamberlin 💙❤️ Can’t wait to see what you talented Reylos come up with on the lead up to EPIX and beyond!

Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr

——————

The Politics of Dancing - Part I

By: sushigirlali

——————

London, December 1818

——————

Lounging indolently on his mother’s favorite crimson chaise, Ben Solo pretended to listen to the incessant prattle of the desperate debutant sitting across from him. Miss what’s-her-name was more demanding than most, but unfortunately for her, he was too busy searching for his uncle’s distractingly beautiful ward to care.

Where is she? Ben frowned, smoky eyes darting toward the grand staircase for the fourth time in as many minutes. It’s been nearly three hours.

Impatiently tapping his fingertips against the soft velvet of the couch, Ben wondered whether he should go check on her. Purely out of concern for her wellbeing, of course. She must be tried after last night, he smirked.

Recalling the sated look on Rey Niima’s flushed face as he brought her to orgasm after shattering orgasm the night before, Ben shifted restlessly in his seat. It would be unseemly to make a spectacle of himself in his parents’ drawing room, but the memory of his lover’s tantalizing response was proving difficult to suppress.

Turning in the direction of the immaculately decorated evergreen tree in the corner, Ben attempted to focus on something less sexually charged when a sudden sense of déjà vu struck him. The room had been similarly decorated the first day he’d met Rey, more than fifteen years ago.

Fifteen years, Ben marveled. It seems like a lifetime ago now…

Orphaned at the age of five when her parents died in a freak factory fire while touring their holdings in the industrial district, Rey’s future had been precarious in the days leading up to Christmas. The Niima’s were of the nouveau riche variety, and consequently, they owed money to numerous lenders, up to and including the Bank of England itself. But with no other family or capital to help settle her parent’s ill-kempt accounts, Luke and Leia had felt it was their duty as longtime friends of Lord and Lady Niima to take care of Rey in their stead.

As a spoiled teenager, he’d been resentful of the attention she’d garnered from his family, feeling left out while his mother fussed over Rey like the daughter she’d always wanted. But despite his attitude in those early years, Rey had blossomed under the Skywalker’s care.

Since money was no issue for one of the wealthiest families in the country, Rey was afforded everything a young lady needed to thrive in society, including a world class education in music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages. In addition, Luke fully supported her dream of studying mathematics and engineering, something no other lady of his acquaintance could boast.

But then, we’re an unconventional family, Ben allowed.

Although Skywalker Manor was entailed to Luke as his father’s heir, his uncle had opted to raise Rey in his small but comfortable country estate instead, leaving the mansion in London to his beloved sister and best friend. The move had raised quite a few manicured eyebrows, but Luke had never been one to follow tradition.

I’m still curious about what his motives could have been. Beyond the Skywalker party line, that is.

Whenever the subject was broached, his mother simply stated that her brother had volunteered to mentor Rey out of loneliness, but Ben wasn’t so sure; the old hermit seemed pretty self-sufficient to him. Still, it was impossible to deny the effect that Rey’s bright personality had had on his uncle’s taciturn disposition.

Or mine, for that matter, he thought wryly, acknowledging how thoroughly the young ingénue had wormed her way into his heart.

The initial antagonism he’d felt toward Rey had ended the year before he’d gone away for University, when old man Snoke had slashed him across the face for stealing apples from his prized orchard. Although he’d been guilty of the crime, the brass seven-year-old had covered for him with his parents, making up a story about how he’d cut his cheek on a tree branch while out riding instead.

He’d felt guilty for deceiving his parents, but when Snoke suddenly succumbed to syphilis a few weeks later, Ben didn’t see the point in correcting the lie; it was best to let the past die with his attacker as far as he was concerned.

Tracing the faint mark still maring his right cheek, Ben contemplated the old injury. It had piqued his vanity at first, but the slight imperfection hadn’t stopped him from attracting friends—or women—while attending Oxford. In fact, most people seemed to be interested in the faded scar while far less were off-put by it.

I’m sure my family’s money had something to do with it as well, he mused, not blind to the fact that his status had paved the way through a great many obstacles.

After school, Ben had worked for his father for a number of years, traveling around the world and securing their interests against outside threats. By twenty-six, he’d earned a reputation for being a ruthless negotiator and was able to stave off French control of his family’s assets leading up to Napoléon’s defeat at Waterloo in 1815.

He was proud of all he’d accomplished while abroad, but once the war was over, Ben was shocked to discover how much Rey had grown up in his absence. Coming home on her eighteenth birthday, he’d been instantly captivated by her delicate beauty and unbridled intelligence. Ignoring his growing attraction to the lively orphan had become more difficult with every subsequent family gathering, but the ten-year age gap between them had given him pause.

Up until last night, that is.

Now twenty-one, Rey was fully in control of her own sexuality; she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. He supposed he should’ve resisted her advances when she slipped into his room after the rest of the house had gone to bed the previous evening, but after flirting with her all throughout dinner, not to mention the several glasses of wine he’d imbibed, Ben hadn’t been able to keep his hands off his adopted cousin.

Thank the maker that we’re not actually related.

Succumbing to her charms had been a long time coming and he was frankly impressed with himself for holding out for so—

“Don’t you think, Lord Ren?”

“Huh?” Ben stared blankly at the source of the interruption.

“I was remarking on unpatriotic Lady Lintra’s gown is!” she tittered. “It’s just so French!”

Lady who?

“Lord Ren?” she said when he didn’t react, resting a hand on his muscular thigh. “Are you listening to—”

Staring past the airhead still jabbering away at him, Ben’s jaw dropped as Rey appeared at the top of the stairs in a striking ivory gown. She wore no jewelry or makeup, but the healthy glow in her cheeks made her look radiant. Her hair, swept up into an intricate coiffure and studded with little white flowers, completed the look to perfection.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said absently, ignoring his suitor’s feeble protests as he brushed her off.

Moving to intercept Rey, Ben’s jovial mood quickly soured as she brushed past him without a word, crossing the room to seek the company of Finn Johnson instead.

What the hell?!

Ben had only known the Earl for a short time, but judging by the warm reception on her lovely face, Rey and Finn were old chums. Up until tonight, he’d liked the younger man, but now he wasn’t so sure…

——————

Rolling her eyes at the frivolous bows and bonnets vying for Lord Ren’s attention, Rey covertly tracked his movements through the crowd. He was all politeness and grace when it was time to turn on the charm, but if the ladies of the ton knew how hot-blooded he really was, they’d be shocked senseless.

Glaring at the dark-haired woman who’d been fondling Ben’s thigh when she walked in, Rey wondered whether Ben had slept with her as well. Had this painted tart been as agreeable as she’d been the night before? The thought didn’t sit well with her, but having fallen for the conceited wretch herself, she really couldn’t blame the young coquette if she had.

Don’t be a hypocrite, Rey, you would’ve done anything to have him just last night; and you did. Shivering as she recalled the pleasure of losing herself in Ben Solo’s arms at long last, Rey diverted her attention back to her lifelong friend. It was much easier to endure her inexplicable jealousy with Finn around.

“So, how is Rose? Have you proposed yet?” Rey inquired mischievously.

“Shh!” Finn whispered, looking around to make sure no one had overheard. “I’m still working out the finer points, so I’ll thank you to hold your tongue until the moment is right.”

“It’s been three years, Finn, how much longer are you going to make the girl wait?” she teased.

“Until such a time as I can convince my family that I’m not throwing my life away by marrying a, and I quote, ‘uncultured commoner who’s only after my fortune.’ ”

“Oh, Finn…” Rey said sympathetically.

“Why do you think my mother has been pushing for us to make a match? She’s in love with all that nice Skywalker money,” he said in disgust.

“It’s not like she would see any money out of the arrangement. Uncle Luke has been like a father to me, sure, but I’m not a Skywalker. I’m not blood,” she said without heat.

“But you’re his heir,” Finn stated glibly, “so that doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“I’m his—what?” Rey exclaimed, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “Wherever did you hear such an outrageous lie?” she hissed.

“What?” Finn gaped at her. “Wait a minute! Wait just a damn minute! You don’t know? He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” she said uncertainly.

“Luke submitted a last will and testament to his lawyer right after your twenty-first birthday, naming you heir to the Skywalker fortune,” he informed her.

“But…what about Ben?” Rey made the mistake of glancing at him across the room, drawing Ben’s attention away from his latest admirer. “Oh, no, he’s—”

“Leia’s son, not Luke’s,” Finn reminded her.

“No! He’s walking toward us,” Rey interrupted. “Quick! Dance with me! I need a moment to think.”

Finn immediately complied, taking her hand and leading her into a simple country dance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spring this on you. I assumed you knew.”

Rey shook her head. “Luke never said a word.”

“I know he’s not the most talkative chap, but he should’ve discussed this with you before acting,” Finn said thoughtfully, tracing his foot along the floor.

“Tell me about it,” she said, matching his steps with practiced ease.

“Why do you think he kept it to himself?”

“Probably to keep me from running off before Christmas,” she sighed. “I never would have come to London if I’d known that Luke was going to strip Ben of his inheritance.”

“Do you think Ren knows?”

“I’m not sure,” Rey said hesitantly. “Why?”

Finn eyed the other man over her shoulder. “He’s been watching you since you descended the staircase. He looks…well, angry isn’t the right word. Jealous, maybe?”

“Jealous? I’m sure you’re mistaken,” she laughed, trying to play down Ben’s interest. Now wasn’t the time to admit that she was a fallen woman and Ben was likely feeling territorial. There were more pressing matters at hand. “He’s probably just bored and looking for someone to talk to. We are family, after all.”

Finn seemed to accept her explanation, but he kept looking from her to Ben and back again as if trying to work something out.

“But back to you!” Rey attempted to divert him. “Tell me more about Rose. I hear she’s quite the tinkerer…”

Rey half-listened as Finn began talking animatedly about the woman he hoped to marry, thinking back to the morning of her and Luke’s arrival several days ago. Ben hadn’t been hostile when he’d greeted them at the estate’s grand entrance gate and helped them unload the carriage, so it seemed unlikely that he knew about Luke’s revised will. If anything, he’d been more approachable than usual.

Ben’s never been particularly sociable, although his attitude has certainly improved over the years…among other things. Rey bit her lip as she remembered how he’d looked without a stitch of clothing on, how he’d felt lying full-length on top of her.

She’d been shy at first, despite provoking the situation, but Ben had taken his time with her, arousing her until she was breathless and begging. But did he take such good care of me because he wanted me as much as I wanted him or…? Rey stalled as a terrible thought crossed her mind.

What if Ben knew about his change of status and simply hadn’t let on? What if he’d slept with her knowing that she would be compromised and therefore beholden to him if he chose to make her loss of innocence known? Would Ben stoop to sleeping with her to ensure that he had access to Luke’s money?

Once again searching for him in the crowd, Rey started when she realized that Ben had maneuvered himself behind her partner, clearly intent on cornering her before she left the dance floor.

“Rose and her sister, Paige, are both—”

“Oh, no!”

“What’s wrong?” Finn said, giving Rey a quizzical look.

“Ben’s right behind you!” she whispered. “What should I do if he asks me to dance? I have no idea what to say to him right now.”

“You’d better brace yourself then,” Finn chuckled as he looked over his shoulder, “because I don’t think he’s going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

——————

Glowering as Rey leaned into conversation with her handsome partner, Ben waited impatiently for a break in the music. Feeling like a fool for waxing poetic about her for hours on end while she was content to ignore him in favor of another man, Ben was determined to get an explanation out of her. Had their midnight rendezvous meant so little to her? Was he the only one who’d laid their heart on the line? He had to know.

“Lady Niima, may I have the next dance?” he requested as soon as the last note sounded, giving Finn the barest of nods before holding out his arm for Rey.

“If you must,” she said tightly, curving her fingers around his thick bicep while her friend respectfully stepped to the side.

“Thank you, my lady,” Ben said, amused by her haughty tone. Damn, but he liked her. “Give me your hand,” he directed when the orchestra took up a dreamy ballad.

“A waltz?” Rey inquired curiously, assuming the correct posture by placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in his. “Are you sure we should be doing this, my lord?”

“Whatever do you mean?” he replied, expertly leading her into the foreign dance.

“In some circles, the waltz is considered inappropriate between unwed men and women, as you well know—oh!” she gasped as he suddenly swept her off her feet and twirled her in a wide circle. “Ben!” she laughed in an unguarded moment of pure joy, exhilarated by his display of strength.

“That’s better,” Ben beamed, lacing their fingers together. “I’ve been waiting to see you smile again all day, sweetheart.”

Rey’s eyes widened at the endearment before sliding surreptitiously around the room. “Put me down, please,” she said coolly.

Gently lowering her to the ground, Ben searched her pretty face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she denied curtly.

“You’re angry with me,” he said in surprise, picking up on her mood.

“I’m angry with myself,” Rey corrected.

“Whatever for?”

“I’m not like you, Ben,” Rey huffed. “Despite what I instigated last night, I can’t just sleep around and damn the consequences. I can’t just flirt with whomever I want and hope for the best. If I want to make a good marriage, I have to—”

“Who do you intend to marry?” he interrupted sharply, pulling her to a stop. “Johnson?”

“It doesn’t matter. Look, there’s something I need to tell—”

“Of course it matters!” Ben growled, tightening his hold. “You’re mine!”

“Excuse me?! I’m no one’s property,” she shot back.

“Don’t test me, Rey, I’m not in the mood for games,” he said, dragging her flush against him and lowering his lips to within an inch of her own. “We’re nowhere near done with each other and you well know it.”

“I don’t—Ben, you’re too close,” Rey whispered, swaying towards him in spite of her words. “People will talk.”

“Let them.”

“Ben…”

“Come out onto the terrace with me, then,” he said, ghosting his lips over hers. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until we’ve discussed this properly.”

“I shouldn’t,” Rey faltered.

“But you want to,” he said confidently.

“Yes,” she conceded, “but don’t let that go to your thick head, you arrogant swine!”

“Never,” Ben smiled, backing off slightly and placing her hand in the crook of his arm. “Right this way, my lady.”

——————

Alarm bells were going off in her head as Ben lead her out to the deserted veranda, but she ignored them. What could he possibly do to her thirty feet from his mother’s packed drawing room?

Quite a lot, as it turned out.

Rey moaned as his wide lips crashed over hers the moment they reached a secluded alcove. He didn’t give her time to think let alone argue, backing her into the cool balustrade and cupping the back of her head with firm fingers. Leaning into his massive chest without a shred of self-preservation, Rey gripped the front of his finely made dinner jacket, pulling him even closer. It felt so good to be in his arms again.

Too good. Get ahold of yourself, Rey. You were supposed to discuss…you were…there was something… Losing her train of thought as Ben’s hips slid into contact with hers, Rey was instantly aware of the hard jut of his body. He was a large man, her Ben, all over.

When they parted to catch their breath few tumultuous minutes later, Ben took the opportunity to rumble, “Does Finn Johnson kiss you like that?” and ruin the moment.

“What?” she asked, dumbfounded by the abrupt accusation.

“Johnson,” he glowered. “How long have you known him?”

“Finn? Why do you—Ben, are you jealous?” Rey gaped, shocked by the notion. The man’s family had more money than the crown for goodness sake! He could have anything he wanted, any woman he wanted. So, why was he jealous of her?

“Of course I am! You went from my arms to his within a matter of hours!” he grumbled, honest to the point of insolence. “It’s insulting!”

“That wasn’t my intent.”

“This isn’t funny, Rey. I need to know how deeply you’re involved with—”

“Ben, it’s not like that,” Rey interjected. “You needn’t be jealous; the Earl and I are just friends. We used to play together as children, that’s all.”

“Just friends, huh?”

“Yes! And if you don’t believe me, you can—”

“I believe you,” he broke in. “You’re many things, Rey Niima, but you’re not a liar.”

“Oh, well, good,” she said lamely.

A tense silence stretched between them until Ben chuckled, his deep voice surrounding her in the relative darkness of their hideaway. “Is that what we are?”

“What?”

“Friends,” he said with a crooked grin. “Are we friends?”

“We’re…” Family? Friends? Lovers? Rey trembled with uncertainty and barely repressed desire. Tell him, Rey. Tell him about Luke. “I don’t know what we are.”

“Is that why you’re upset with me?” he probed, absently playing with the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. It was an oddly comforting gesture and Rey had to fight not to lean into it. “Because you’re unsure about the future of our relationship?”

“The future of our relationship?” she parroted.

“We’re lovers, Rey,” Ben reminded her with a smirk. “You’re my woman now.”

“I’m not—we’re not—it was a one-time thing,” she stammered. Tell him!

“We’ll see about that,” he challenged, dipping his head toward hers again.

“Am I the only one?” she queried, quickly turning her cheek to avoid his tempting mouth. “What about that woman who was hanging all over you earlier?”

“What woman?” Ben tilted her chin to make her look at him again.

“The one sitting next to you on that ostentatious bolt of red velvet when I came downstairs,” Rey reminded him.

“Oh, her?” he said dismissively. “I barely heard a word she said to me; I was waiting for you.”

“You were?”

Ben nodded, gently framing her flushed face. She tried not to melt under his sincere stare, but it was tough going.

“Well, you still shouldn’t have let that black-haired hussy put her hands on you the day after making love to me,” she chastised half-heartedly. Did you make love to me? Or was it just…

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her freckled cheek.

“Stop it,” Rey breathed.

“Stop what?”

“You know what!”

Ben trailed his lips across her face to her mouth, but he didn’t close the distance. “Kiss me, Rey.”

Don’t you dare, Rey! You need to find out what he knows about the inheritance before you give into your baser needs. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it!

“Please,” he whispered longingly.

Dammit.

Rey slammed her lips over his, kissing him so fiercely that he actually staggered back a few paces before wrapping her up against him. His hands were in her hair, on her body, everywhere, as uncoordinated as his harsh breathing, showing her without words just how much he wanted her. Emboldened by his enthusiastic response, Rey fumbled with the buttons holding his coat closed, frantic to push aside her doubts and lose herself in his arms instead.

Argh! Why won’t these stupid things—

“Ben? Rey? Are you out here?”

The young couple froze in horror as Han Solo’s voice cut through their passion like a knife.

“Oh my god!” Rey exclaimed. “Your father!”

“Bloody hell,” Ben swore.

“Oh my god!” she repeated. “Ben, if he catches us like this…”

“It’s okay, we’re well hidden,” he assured her, but his tone was less than convincing.

“Are you sure? What if—”

“Calm down,” he mumbled, still breathing harshly.

“Calm down?!” Rey returned incredulously. “Calm down?! How dare—”

Ben laughed despite the seriousness of the situation, hugging her close. “I was talking to myself.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” she said sheepishly as his arousal nudged her flat stomach. “So, what should we do?”

“You go first and take my father back inside. If he asks, tell him something came up and I had to step away,” he instructed.

“What about you?”

“I’ll follow in a few minutes, once I’ve had time to collect myself.”

“Okay,” Rey agreed. “How do I look?” she asked, stepping back.

“Beautiful,” he said gruffly.

Blushing to the roots of her sable hair at the appreciative look on Ben’s handsome face, Rey impulsively reached up to place a kiss on his long chin. “Don’t be too long.” Hurrying forward before he had a chance to respond, Rey intercepted Han before he could wander too far from the house. “Here I am, uncle! Is it time for supper yet? I’m starved!”

“Just about,” Han replied. “Leia sent me on a mission to find you and my son. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Ben? He went upstairs to take care of something,” Rey said easily. “He should be back shortly, though.”

“Is that so?” Han raised one dark eyebrow, taking in her slightly disheveled appearance.

“Yes,” she lied, nervously tucking an errant curl behind her ear. “Shall we?” Rey indicated the patio door.

“We shall, my dear,” he chuckled, looking toward the spot where she and Ben had been sequestered before turning around and opening the door for her. “I think you’ll find the seating arrangement interesting this evening,” Han said conversationally, taking her arm and leading her across the dance floor and into the dining room. “Your aunt really knows how to plan an entertaining party.”

Confused by his enigmatic statement, Rey just smiled and nodded. As long as nobody looked at her too closely, she was sure that she could survive the rest of the evening without scandal and have a civil conversation with Ben about Luke’s will after dinner.

But as Rey sat down in her assigned seat near the head of the huge dining table, Han’s words came into startling focus. Reading the name cards on either side of her plate with growing trepidation, Rey realized that Poe Dameron, Viscount of Yavin, was to be her dinner companion for the evening, not Ben.

Oh, Leia, she sighed when Ben arrived a few moments later, looking apoplectic as his mother escorted him to the other end of the table. You don’t even know what you’ve done.

——————

A/N: Or does she?! Haha! You’ll just have to wait and see, friends! I’m planning to finish up the second part of the tale in the next week or so, so please let me know what you think so far. I hope everyone is ready for the Year of Reylo because I sure as hell am!

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #regency au #christmas au #my fanfiction #my art #sushigirlali #the politics of dancing #happy birthday friends #capricorn

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astrotroopers · 3 years ago

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09.08.21 [I am not good at titles]

Mood: Melancholic Listening to: Nothing really I’ve never really been any good at coming up with titles. Or even writing for that matter. Rarely does my head stay on straight enough for me to sit down and write about any solid topic, let alone my day or my feelings. I don’t know why today of all days is the one where I actually decided to do so. I’d wanted my first journal entry to be happy or motivated, even mundane would be fine. But I guess have too much to let out and so I fear for whoever reading this that it will be ridiculously long and pained. No matter, I’ve resigned to writing this after all. [ When I was around 13 years old, I’d been diagnosed with epilepsy, a condition for which there was purportedly no cure. With the home and school situation as they were, I spent my days as a child with little hope for any different. Around that time, my father and aunt met a “soothsayer”. The soothsayer was a funny man, not clad in talismans or pendants or religious clothing as you’d expect one to be. At least, those were the ones in my imagination. Charlatans who would say exactly what you’d want to hear, or tell you to pray a bajillion times a day. All for the right price of course. The kid me, in retrospect, was funny was well. Somehow so much more motivated and hopeful...yet inconceivably cynical and jaded. She was in many respects more like a cranky old man than a little girl. And so I was incredibly skeptical of this whole charade when I was taken to meet him. We took a long road trip to Sylhet and arrived at what could only be described as a mansion shaded in leaves surrounded by a neat garden, all in the middle of nowhere. I raised my eyebrows, this bizarre scene not assuaging any of my doubts at all. Nevertheless, I was thankful to be around so much greenery and light for once. The owner of the mansion had supposedly found this soothsayer wandering in the nearby forest, afraid he was a madman but found to be very much coherent. Well... I wouldn’t quote myself on this though as I don’t really know the whole backstory word for word, but it was a similarly unbelievable tale. My family entered his estate greeting him, as did I. But it was a listless greeting, as I was skeptical and horribly depressed on top of that. The owner offered to show my family around the house and rooms, and allow them to settle in before dinner. They accepted while I decided to pass the time in the living room alone, giving some excuse or other, mulling over how much more nonsense I’d have to put up with till this was all over. I stewed in my rage at my father, who already had been verbally abusing us day and night and now forced us to come to this random place. Before long though, I noticed someone quietly take a seat beside me. It was the soothsayer. He put his hand on my shoulder and before I even had time to respond, with a knowing look he began to speak. “Please don’t be so angry at your father. He cares about you enough to allowed you to pursue art in Malaysia, right? A lot of fathers wouldn’t do that. It could be a lot worse.” I was stunned.

Not at what he had insinuated I should be doing, or that he knew I wanted to pursue art, or even that it would be in Malaysia, I could hardly process any of that. No, the real reason was that at the time, I had not told or shown anyone I was so angry. Least of all the exact reason I was so angry, depressed and hopeless. He gave me a look that felt like he knew exactly what I was thinking. I nodded wordlessly, not even sure how to react. You’d think I’d be uncomfortable, yet I wasn’t. You see, any display of honest emotion or feelings or even opinions garnered you no comfort in my household. Rather, it caused backlash and feelings of guilt and being the bad person, so I felt like I was completely alone in the world. Even if I wanted to tell someone, my true sadness remained lodged in the back of my throat. I was bad at being honest about my feelings to anyone, even myself. I felt like bursting into tears then and there. In a way his words became my salvation, because I so desperately wanted someone to understand how miserable and trapped I felt. And so they did. Over his funny habit of eating massive amounts of biscuits and tea which was probably 80% sugar, this elderly man continued to tell me things that nobody else knew that I felt on the inside, about what I wanted or what I could potentially do. He would comfort me and encourage me when I was at my lowest, and then look at my incredulous face as he went to smoke a cigarette. This strange man who was truly nothing like any nutty religious soothsayer I’d ever seen, who spoke in Sylheti dialect I could only understand half the time. This man who felt like the one and only person who, up till that point, was truly on my side. He passed away in late 2020. And it occurred to me I was all alone again. He would say “Shoily, you’re going to be okay. As long as you smile and stay positive, everything will be fine”. His words telling me I would be okay were sometimes the only thing that kept me going. And yet, I could not fulfill his one simple request of smiling, and so my heart hangs heavier than ever. ]

It’s the 9th of August, 2021. I am sitting in a flat in Bangladesh, on a cloudy evening. I have almost become used to the choking humidity and pollution again after returning a few months back. There is a worldwide pandemic, and it has been raging on for more than a year and a half. Millions have died and even more have been infected. Covid-19 feels almost humorous in it’s insanity, something I’d only scene in sci-fi films and the like. Some days I wake and feel as if nothing is real, and this is all some silly dream. How badly I wish to wake up. Last year in a bout of self-centeredness I thought to myself “things are tough, but this isn’t so bad”, only for this year to be terrific wake up call of how bad things would, and could continue to be. I had graduated recently, after a hellish final semester in the midst of everything going on. The chronic illness, the problems in that run-down old apartment, all by myself, the lack of consideration of everyone around me, somehow I managed still. There was still kindness around me, the cleaning lady was a very good soul. My uncle was very giving as well. I learnt a lot from the people around me, for better and for worse. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and spiritually but I had no time to think about that. Graduation was the only thing on my mind. And that kept me going, some way, somehow.

Now I lack any structured goal because my physical illness eats away at me. Yet nothing is worse than feeling like the days are slipping by, between my fingers. I pray that here on out, I can use this space as an outlet to motivate myself even a tiny bit.

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 7 years ago

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Happy Ending

One-Shot from the “My Eyes” Universe.

Spoiler-y (and confusing) if you haven’t read the series.

My Eyes Masterlist

Request: @prettyyoungtragedy

Prompt: Frankie’s school D.C. trip makes a stop at the Smithsonian.

Pairing: Dad!Bucky & Frankie; Dad!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Words Count: 2,796

Frankie looked at the airplanes in awe. She wondered what the thrill would be like to fly in some of the old models, completely exposed and feeling the wind in her hair. She’d convinced Sam and Rhodey to teach her a few things at the compound. But they wouldn’t let her take anything off the ground yet.

Suddenly Frankie’s enhanced hearing caught whispering. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she recognized immediately that she was the subject of it.

“Do you think she knows it’s here?”

“Has she seen it yet?”

“I wonder if it’s even true…”

“It’s the Smithsonian, you fucking idiots. Do you even know how much research goes into these exhibits?”

Frankie smirked as her best friend snapped at the other teenagers. She turned around just as the group of people were scurrying away and her friend, Taylor, came walking toward her. She was the complete opposite of Frankie: girly, short, and a little quiet, but feisty when she needed to be. She was a cheerleader and a rule follower too. But somehow the two of them just understood each other.

Frankie had gone from a cute child to a beautiful young woman. The super-soldier serum affected her similarly to how it did with Jimmy. She’d finally stopped growing once she hit 5’ll. She was strong, much stronger than she looked. Her mom always said she had the body of a ballerina. “Graceful and beautiful, but you don’t realize how powerful they are until you see them move.” Y/N had always told Frankie that when she complained about being taller than most of the boys in high school.

Frankie dressed not too differently than her father, always wearing dark colors and jeans. But she’d copied Jimmy’s style of grungy, band t-shirts and combat boots. And Frankie was rarely without her leather moto jacket. Despite her tomboy attire, she always kept her hair long. It was permanently wavy and windblown, like she just finished a photoshoot.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Frankie sighed as she continued looking at the planes.

“They were being rude.” Taylor snapped.

“People forget who I’m related to… and the moment they get even slightly reminded of it, they freak out. I’m used to it.” Frankie shrugged.

Unlike her older brother, she was one of the popular kids. She didn’t have a clique; just her best friends and a charming personality. Frankie didn’t want the attention. She just existed and had an air around her that seemed to attract her peers.

“Did you know it was here?” Taylor asked gently.

Frankie’s brow furrowed and she finally looked away from the planes to fully address her friend. “Mom mentioned there was a museum once. But I never knew what one. It slipped my mind until I saw the signs outside when we walked in.”

Taylor’s expression softened. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Frankie nodded.

Together, they slowly made their way to the Captain America exhibit.

Luckily, most of the other kids from their school had rushed there first. Therefore it wasn’t crowded and Frankie didn’t have to worry about people watching her every reaction.

“The Living Legend and Symbol of Courage” was the quote as they entered.

A sad smile crept on Frankie’s lips as she was met with a giant mural of Steve Rogers.

“I’ll never get over how much your brother looks like him…” Taylor muttered lowly.

Frankie hummed in agreement.

The first sign of her father was in old footage playing on various screens. It was black & white, the film distressed and jumpy. He looked younger and… different. His hair was short and slicked back. His eyes seemed brighter and happier. He was smaller too; still muscular for the time, but nothing like he was after the serum.

Then Frankie turned around and let out a breath at the sight before her.

“A Fallen Comrade” with a giant etching of her father.

Frankie and Taylor quietly read the text that accompanied the mural.

“Captured by Hydra troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, depravation and torture.” A pit formed in Frankie’s stomach.

“…Torture?” Taylor gasped quietly. “Did he…did he ever tell you any of this?”

Frankie shook her head. “My dad…he thinks the less he tells me about that time, the more normal my life would be. He just always wanted me to see him like any other dad.”

Sometimes Frankie wondered how Steve would’ve parented Jimmy. Would he have ignored the questions like Bucky had ignored his daughter’s?

“I guess you could’ve just always googled it though.” Taylor commented.

“I never have.” Frankie retorted casually.

This made Taylor stop in her tracks. “Why the hell not?”

Frankie shrugged. “The internet is full of lies. Then there was the whole Accords mess. The media isn’t always nice to my family. No one knows the full story but my dad. I figured if I want to know the truth, I should hear it from him and no one else.”

Taylor slowly nodded in understanding.

When they kept walking, there was another mural of Bucky. This must have been a newer addition because it picked up after The Battle of Washington, D.C.

“The world was astounded to find that James Buchanan Barnes survived his fall in 1944, only to become the longest surviving prisoner of war in history. Barnes was forced into a new identity as Hydra’s The Winter Soldier.”

Frankie quickly looked away, not wanting to read the rest.

Taylor instantly noticed her distress and looped an arm with her’s, gently pulling them from the mural. She sat them on a bench that was near the display of all The Howling Commando uniforms.

“You okay?” Taylor asked quietly.

Frankie nodded, staring back and forth between the mural of Steve Rogers and her dad. They were the two men that had taken her mother’s heart. Y/N was more open talking about things than Bucky.

“The older I get, the more it makes sense that I love them both.” Y/N had said to her once. “Steve and your father were two sides of the same coin. They needed each other. Both born with the best of hearts, they were too reckless and selfless to look out for themselves. So they had to look after each other.”

“You think if the rest of The Howling Commandos managed to get frozen, you’re mom would’ve slept with them too?” A guy from their high school brought Y/N out of her head.

His name was Greg and he happened to be one of the burnouts at their high school. He rarely was in class because he was too busy skipping class and getting suspended. How he was able to even attend their class trip to DC was beyond her.

In the corner of her eye, Frankie saw a few of her guy friends start walking in his direction to defend her. They were all the star players of basically every sports team at their school. But she motioned with her hand for them to leave it.

Frankie slowly got up from the bench and smirked when the guy was reminded that she had a good few inches on him.

She raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, Greg. Do you want to say that again a little louder for me?”

Greg scoffed at her. “I asked if your mom would’ve slept with the rest of them if she had gotten the chance.”

Frankie smiled brightly at him and nodded. “That’s what I thought…” But the remark was immediately followed by her fist slamming into his face.

“What the fuck!” Greg screamed out as he clutched his now bleeding nose.

Her friends clapped and cheered.

Frankie leaned forward. “Next time you talk shit about my family, I’ll break it.” Her voice was a low and threatening whisper.

There was a chance she’d get in trouble for that one. If Greg was cowardly enough to tell on her, she’d most likely be able to charm her way out of it. Frankie didn’t go around picking fights like Jimmy had at her age. But she wasn’t one to back away from a fight either. Plus she had a way with words that her brother didn’t, and it managed to keep her record fairly clean.

“I wish you’d just done your Darth Vader choke…probably would have made him pee his pants in terror.” Taylor joked as they started walking out of the exhibit.

Frankie smirked mischievously. “You know I can’t, Tay.”

She groaned dramatically. “I know, I know. It’s against your mom and dad’s rules. No using your freaky superpowers against anyone unless it’s for self-defense.”

When she was around 10-years-old, Frankie got a life threatening fever, just like Jimmy. Her parents knew what to expect this time, but it still terrified Y/N and Bucky. A few days later, she started accidentally moving things in the room. Sometimes objects would randomly float in the air. There was even one time when Frankie accidentally shattered the glass in one of the training rooms at the compound. She refused to use her telekinesis for weeks after that incident.

Through help with her “aunts” and “uncles,” as well as other new Avengers, Frankie learned how to master her powers. With her telekinesis matched with her father’s super-soldier genes, Frankie was one of the world’s deadliest weapons. And she was only 16.

“Bucky, will you stop it with the pacing. You’re driving me insane.” Y/N snapped. He was aimlessly walking around her garden as she tried to pick vegetables. If he wasn’t pacing, he was shifting his weight and hands so much that he somehow still appeared to be moving.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He sighed.

“You said you were going to help me garden, so help me and stop worrying about her.”

“I’m not worried about her.” Bucky mumbled grumpily.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re such a bad liar. Go water the tomatoes while I pick these carrots.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his smirk. “So bossy…”

She laughed. “I know you love it.”

Just as Bucky finished watering a patch, his senses heard Frankie walking in the front door. He smiled to himself but managed to stay put. It was the farthest she’d ever gone without one of her parents accompanying her.

Frankie didn’t bother calling out for her parents. She always knew where to find her mom.

Bucky straightened up when his daughter came outside.

She gave him a look and carefully walked to him. Her face held a distant, yet heartbroken expression. Without saying anything, she wrapped him into a tight hug. Her face buried into his neck. She hadn’t held onto him like this since she was little.

“I love you, dad.” Frankie murmured softly.

“I love you too, babydoll.” Bucky replied instantly, holding her tightly.

Y/N read Frankie’s emotions, trying to figure out if something terrible happened. That’s when she put it together. There was no way her school hadn’t taken them to DC without going to the Smithsonian Institution.

“Everything okay, Frankie?” Bucky whispered to his daughter as he pulled away to look into her matching blue eyes.

She nodded with a shy smile. “I’m gonna go shower and unpack.”

Bucky nodded, but remained unconvinced.

Frankie quickly gave her mother a hug before going back inside.

Bucky looked at Y/N and silently asked for some sort of explanation.

“You need to talk to her.” Y/N stated firmly.

Somehow her words helped him figure it out.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “What am I supposed to say?” Bucky’s voice was desperate.

Y/N stopped her work and got back to her feet, walking over to him. “All she wants is the truth, Buck. She’s always going to love you. You’re her hero.”

To further reassure him, she gave him a loving kiss.

Frankie was in sweats with hair still wet, unpacking her bag when Bucky knocked on her door.

She said he could come in and continued moving about her room.

Bucky leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

She didn’t pause. “I’ve wanted to talk about it since I was a kid. It was you that never wanted to, dad.” Then she gave him an accusatory look.

“Frankie, I just…” He stopped to take a breath. “I just wanted you to see me as your dad and not the way the rest of the world does.”

She finally stopped to stare at him. “I’m never going to think less of you, dad.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say.

Frankie looked at the floor. “Did they really torture you?” She whispered.

Bucky saw how much his past was already hurting his daughter. But she deserved to hear his story. Because she was a part of it now. It brought him to Y/N and life gave them her.

“How about I make us some coffee and I’ll start from the beginning?” He finally answered. She nodded.

Bucky didn’t finish telling Frankie everything until long after the sun had set. Y/N stayed clear of the kitchen, knowing that the two of them needed to have this talk alone. If Frankie ever needed her to fill in the gaps, she would. But that would come later.

Bucky told Frankie about his time in the war, even before Steve got the serum and joined the army. He didn’t leave out the gory details after she gave him warning after warning that she didn’t want him to sugar coat it.

It got tougher once he got to the part when he got captured by Hydra. There was a twisted edge of happiness as he remembered The Howling Commando days. But that quickly disappeared when Bucky got to his assumed death.

Then it got even harder when he couldn’t tell her everything. Because he still couldn’t remember it all. Frankie’s face became more and more dejected as she picked out the patches of time that her father didn’t live. It was simply filled with a frozen sleep.

Frankie’s eyes started to water when he told her about The Accords and how Tony reacted when he found out what The Winter Soldier had done to his parents. After all this time and Tony’s forgiveness, Bucky’s eyes were still filled with guilt.

Once Bucky finished his story, the room went so silent that they both could hear the ticking of a clock coming from the other room.

“Dad, you have to realize that I don’t judge you for any of those things, right?” Frankie finally broke the silence with her whisper.

“Your mom and I wanted your life to be as normal as possible. I figured if I kept my past from you, then you’d have a better shot. I didn’t want my issues to affect you.”

Frankie nodded slowly. “I understand.”

But she still looked like her heart was broken after hearing everything her dad went through. Even her darkest imagination could never have come up with any of that.

Bucky reached across the table and gripped her hand tightly. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Frankie.”

“But-But all of that shit you went through… It-It’s terrible! No one deserves to go through that! Least of all you!” Tears streamed down her face as the words stuttered out. She had managed to keep it together through the story, mostly in fear that her dad would stop if he saw how upset it was making her. But now the floodgates were open.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Bucky gripped her hand tighter to get her attention. “You’re missing the most important part.”

Frankie squinted in confusion and sniffled to stop her runny nose.

“Everything that came after.” Bucky clarified. “I got your mom and Jimmy…and then we got you, Frankie.”

“If I’m the happy ending to your story, then I want to hear a new one. What a terrible resolution after all of that.” Frankie joked and roughly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

Bucky smiled at her teasing. “I have to firmly disagree, babydoll.”

“You have to say that; you’re my dad.”

He smiled and shook his head.

“We have a really fucked up family, you know that?” Frankie laughed, her voice filled with congestion after crying so hard.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”

She nodded gently in agreement. “Come here.” He stood with his arms open. Frankie obliged and moved into his embrace. “I love you so much, Frankie. The three of you are always going to be my happy ending.”

“God, you’re such a cheesy old man now.”

So I had so much fun writing this. It was the easiest thing I’ve ever written, honestly. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love hearing from you guys so please review, reblog, and react <3

Shout out to @prettyyoungtragedy for the amazing request.

Keep em coming guys!

#my eyes universe #dad!bucky #dad bucky #dad bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #frankie barnes #marvel fic #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky reader insert #marvel reader insert #jimmy rogers #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #the battle of washington dc #the accords

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carry-on-kissing-snowbaz · 7 years ago

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Time Travel and Ducks (COC Day 3)

Day 3: Time Travel AU

I am honestly not sure what happened with this. But I hope you enjoy a 3rd year fic in which fighting the chimera goes wonderfully wrong for Simon and Baz. @carryon-countdown

Word Count: 1647

Simon

He was going to kill Baz. Even if he had to hunt down a musket to do it, he vowed he would get revenge for this.

Only a few minutes ago the two of them had been arguing while fighting off the chimera, the chimera which Baz had conjured, when suddenly he’d yelled out a spell at the precise moment Simon had grabbed him in a panic. Without meaning to, Simon had pulsed some of his magic into Baz at the exact moment he’d finished saying the spell.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times!” Baz had shouted.

Under normal circumstances, the famous Charles Dickens quotes could be used as a spell to right something that was going wrong in the moment, to make the best of times and all that. But, when Simon’s magic had tinged the spell, it had sent them back to the very time the quote had been conceived.

Simon and Baz were sitting, very uneasily on the steps of the British Museum, after having learned from a newspaper about what had just happened to them. That was how they’d figured out they had landed themselves in 1859.

“I cannot believe this,” Simon muttered.

“I know,” Baz said, “The book was set during the French revolution, how did we end up here?”

Simon looked at him, unsure he was hearing him correctly.

“Are you actually making jokes right now?”

Baz shrugged.

“It’s not a joke really, I’m just questioning the accuracy of the spell.”

“We’re doomed,” Simon said, “I mean seriously doomed. I do not want to live out the rest of my life with you as the only person I know. In the Victorian Era at that.”

Baz frowned.

“I’m sure I could track down some of my ancestors living in this time.”

Simon growled.

“And what about me?” He asked.

“Well,” Baz said, smirking, “You don’t know who your parents were. Looks like you’ll be on your own.”

Simon felt like going off and then realized that he couldn’t. There was no way that he could go off in front of the British Museum, especially not almost two hundred years before the present. He had no idea how it would effect the current timeline.

“You are absolutely unbelievable,” Simon said.

Baz glared at him.

“At least I’m not the git who supercharged someone in the middle of a complicated spell!”

Simon shook his head.

“Fine,” he said, “I’m sorry for that. Next time you summon a chimera to kill me, I’ll try to focus a bit more on the whole ‘no touching’ thing. But for now, will you please help me try to figure this out?”

Baz rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, “Will you just calm down? All we need to do is figure out a spell that would do the same thing and send us back.”

Simon raised his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah, super easy. I guess we’ll try out Tik Tok on the clock and just hope for the best?”

Baz raised his eyebrows, considering it.

“That isn’t a half bad idea actually,” he said.

“I wasn’t being serious!” Simon shouted.

Baz glanced around them, nervously. The people around them were staring at them and whispering. Simon knew that, although not the worst clothing to be caught in during the Victorian Era, their Watford uniforms still stood out. The grime from the fight with the chimera also looked suspicious.

Baz said, “Before we figure this out, can we at least get some proper clothes so we don’t stand out?”

Simon sighed.

“All right,” he said, climbing down the steps, “But you’re buying me some food on the way.”

Baz

Snow seemed to warming up to Victorian London as he ate his way through all the street vendors had to offer. Baz had to drag him away from the vendors before all of Snow’s talking made them suspicious. He was worse than a child in the zoo.

They’d been looking in storefronts for hours while Snow sampled all his treats. Baz had had to tear him away from a toyshop at one point, though even he had to admit it had been pretty spectacular. Later they’d walked past a music hall and Snow had had to drag Baz away from it.

Snow looked fine in his clothes, even Baz had to admit it. He was wearing a grey suit with a ridiculous top hat. It made his blue eyes and bronze curls stand out. Baz had gone for a deep green suit and hat, splurging on a cane just because. Snow had made fun of him for that but Baz had threatened to stop spelling money if he kept making fun of him.

They finally settled at Hyde Park and sat to eat a few ham sandwiches.

“This hasn’t been so bad after all,” Snow said.

Baz glanced at him and felt the corner of his mouth tug up. Snow had grease on the corner of his mouth and was looking at a duck a few paces away with a fond expression.

“So you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life with me here in 1859 London?”

Snow glanced at him.

“You said you would leave me to find your ancestors.”

Baz threw a piece of sandwich bread in the duck’s direction.

“I didn’t actually mean it. I’ll always be stuck with you.”

Snow smiled at the now sated duck.

“Wow, how romantic.”

Baz felt his cheeks go warm.

“Let’s uh, figure out a spell to get us home,” Baz said.

Snow took another bite of his sandwich.

“Actually,” he said, mouth full, “I came up with an idea while we were getting our clothes.”

Baz frowned.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Snow shrugged and looked down.

“I guess I was just having fun,” he said.

Baz didn’t understand why, but he had the sudden desire to grab Snow’s hand and squeeze it, to reassure him or something.

“It has been fun today,” Baz admitted.

Snow looked back up at him.

“Why can’t we be more like this back home? Go eat together and feed ducks together.”

Baz sighed.

“Because my family wants you dead. And your Mage wants to kick my family out of the World of Mages entirely.”

Snow squeezed his lips together.

“Well,” he said, “We’re only thirteen. I say we leave this big stuff to them. If they want to fight it out, then why should we worry about it?”

Baz rolled his eyes.

“You know it isn’t that simple.”

Snow picked at the grass on the ground, head hung low.

“I know,” he said, glumly, “But I want it to be different.”

The duck had come closer to them, squawking for more food. Baz handed it the rest of his sandwich. It really was a greedy duck and far too comfortable with humans.

“Why? Haven’t you always wanted me thrown in a dungeon,” Baz said.

Snow reached out to pet the duck. For whatever reason, it let him, ignoring him while it finished Baz’s sandwich.

“I did. But I don’t think I ever really meant it. I don’t want to now.”

Baz frowned.

“A few hours ago I tried to get that chimera to kill you,” Baz said.

“We both know you were only trying to scare me,” Snow said, “You knew I’d just go off.”

Baz looked around him, at all the people walking with parasols.

“Well you didn’t,” Baz laughed, “Obviously.”

Snow laughed with him, startling the duck.

“Maybe,” Baz said, “When we go back, I work on my family and you work on the Mage. Maybe…we try to be different.”

Snow nodded.

“All right,” he said, “Then I’m ready to share my spell idea.”

“What is it?”

Snow looked at his face, his eyes warm.

“Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Baz felt his heart stutter. He hadn’t thought it was possible that Snow would ever like him, but here they were having fun together. He knew that the spell would never work if they hadn’t come together as they had. It made him feel warm and a bit tingly. He didn’t understand it but for once he didn’t fight it.

“All right, let’s go behind a tree before we do it. I don’t want to scare the locals.”

Snow looked lovingly at the greedy duck.

“Can we take her?”

Baz frowned.

“No.”

“But Margery loves us,” Snow pouted.

“You named the duck?”

They were walking over to a tree, the duck following them.

“Well I wanted to name her Butter but I knew that you’d think that was stupid.”

Baz snorted.

“It is stupid. Wait, Margery…margarine…”

Snow looked away, guilty.

“You are seriously disturbed,” Baz said.

“Does that mean I can take Butter?”

“No! Haven’t you ever heard of the butterfly effect?”

They crouched behind the tree.

“Yeah but I’ve never heard of the duck effect.”

Baz ignored him and put his hands on Snow’s shoulders.

“We ready?” he asked.

Butter the duck settled at their feet and Baz saw no way to dissuade her from coming with them.

“Yes,” Snow said.

“Time flies when you’re having fun!”

Butter quacked.

And then they were gone.

Simon

They were sitting in their room at Watford, thankfully in the right time period, telling Penny all about their adventure. She was sitting on the bed, stroking Butter, while she listened intently.

“Well,” she said, “I’m very glad you idiots didn’t mess up the current timeline.”

Baz smiled at Simon and he felt a small flutter in his stomach.

“I have to say though,” she said, “It sounds like you two went on a date.”

Simon glanced worriedly over at Baz, who looked similarly nervous.

“Penny!” Simon said.

Butter quaked.

“See? Us girls know the truth.”

That made them all laugh.

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pabotofus · 7 years ago

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A Long and Screamy Rant

So this is a rant dedicated to @apvrrish's fic (aknightley on AO3) 'calling me to come back', a gem of a fic and a sincerely gorgeous work. (If you haven't read it yet, go do it here and now!! Seriously, you won't regret it)

I was originally going to make this only about how I felt, but she writes so well I have to put something about her writing style there

Spoilers for the fic under the cut!!

1. Her worldbuilding

Literally once the fic started, I had such a good idea of what the shop looked like. Even if it may not have matched her mental image, it was so clear in my head (which is extremely rare for me). Apvrrish also does amazing descriptions, and it's like I'm actually living in the moment. It's so awesome!!!

2. Characterization

She nailed it. Completely and actually nailed it; bullseye after bullseye; on point. Shiro and Keith's relationship, later on Keith and Lance's relationship, Pidge (idk why I really liked the mental image of Pidge with a bun. I just did) staying up really late to help Keith, the way pIDGE CAN USE HER MAGIC THROUGH ELECTRONICS HDKCKSKCKFD

3. Lotor and Honerva/Hagar

Honestly, I was going to make this a side note on characterization, but this is so good it deserves its own topic. Honerva is so extra and I love it? I mean obviously it's not cool that she literally tried to kill Lance so that Lotor could go to a school. But that is something that she would totally do, and I can't really express my love for the all of this.

I also love the way aknightley wrote (or rather, mentioned) Lotor. Here's a beautiful beautiful quote: "Lotor was evidently interested in genetic science, something that Alfor specialized in, but Alfor was also specialized in avoiding people he didn’t care for, something Keith found enviable."

So maybe that quote doesn't focus on Lotor specifically, but it's such a GOOD SENTENCE. It wasn't the type of funny that would make me burst out into laughter, but the kind of brilliant genius that made me stare at my laptop screen and re-read that sentence five times, because it's that good.

4. While we're on this topic, QUOTES.

"Scrolling to a number that’s only labeled with a small bird emoji and a poop emoji, he texts, Can you do some research for me?" It isn't really the quote itself that I liked, per se, but the idea that Pidge's contact name is a bird and a poop emoji. That is perfect?? And I love it so much???

“Am I wrong, Sunshine?” Lance asks, tilting his head and smiling slyly." Lance calls Keith Sunshine. LANCE CALLS KEITH SUNSHINE OH MY GOD I CANT??? !!!!!!!

"You don’t need it to look pretty, Keith thinks, unbidden." Do I even need to explain here? Seriously, look me in the eye and ask my why I love this quote so much, I dare you. KEITH ADMIRING LANCE'S BEAUTY IS MY GODDAMN JAM

"“Sure, kiddo,” Shiro says, taking a sip of coffee with raised eyebrows." This. THIS!! The amount of pure goodness in this line is enough to make me cry. Shiro knows. Shiro knows!!!

"“Besides the obvious reasons,” Shiro says, raising his eyebrows. Keith gives in to pettiness and uses his magic to fling the pieces of cereal still on the counter at his face, grinning when they nail him directly in the nose." THIS IS THE GOOD BROGANES CONTENT THAT I LIVE FOR DID YOU KNOW??? Again, with characterization,, such perfection.

"“A customer,” Pidge says, doing air quotes. “A customer you dream about and who makes you go super smiley when he calls you on the phone.”" PIDGE KNOWS. SHIRO KNOWS. THEY ALL KNOW AND STILL KEITH REFUSES TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT. A GOOD TROPE. I VERY MUCH APPROVE.

"“So I guess I should -- um -- take this off?” He pulls lightly at the material over his chest and Keith feels his own face heat up." FLUSTERED KLANCE IS BEST KLANCE. NO, I DONT ACCEPT OTHER ANSWERS. THIS IS LAW.

"Lance leaned in close so he can peer into Keith’s face.

Across the room, a cedar branch catches fire." AGAIN. FLUSTERED KLANCE IS BEST KLANCE. NEED THERE BE ANY MORE PROOF? (Also, I hope all these quotes convey the immense love I have for aknightley and her writing)

“I’m going to have to buy her something very sparkly,” Keith murmurs to himself, smiling at the little heart she’s drawn next to her name.

Just,, sparkles!! ✨✨give Allura all the sparkly things 2Kforever please and thank you :)

“I’m good, Sunshine,” Lance says, stretching a little. “In fact, I kind of feel lucky right now.”

OHHHHHH BOY. THIS IS THE CLICHE BUT WONDERFUL TYPE OF THING THAT A HERO GENERALLY SAYS BEFORE THE BIG SHOWDOWN AND I LOVE IT A LOT??? ITS BEAUTIFULLLLLLL GIVE ME EVERY AND ALL THE CLICHE TROPES

5. Keith taking off his protections so that he could talk with Lance in his dreams

I'm probably reading way too much into this, but Keith literally let Lance inside all of his defenses. This is his how much he likes Lance. He stripped down all his protection that he's had for like, forever and let himself be vulnerable ALL FOR LANCE. I CANNOT BELIEVE,, THE SHEER EMOTION AND TRUST SHOWN IN THIS SCENE,,, UGH MY HEART

6. Similarly, the garden scene

This is Keith's private place. This is where he goes to remember his parents, and he let Lance come with him. Again, probably reading way to much into this, but Keith is actually letting Lance in? I mean it's never stated explicitly in the fic but I don't think Keith really goes around sharing the garden with people... wHICH MAKES THIS SO MUCH MORE SPECIAL HDJCKDKSKC I WAS LITERALLY CLUTCHING MY CHEST I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS

7. Keith giving Lance his mom's jacket

Keith didn't even let Shiro, his own brother, keep some of his parents' books from him. Granted, it was a different situation, but still. Keith is incredibly protective of anything and everything related to his parents, so the fact that he let Lance wear and KEEP his mom's jacket?? Is like the equivalent of other people literally ripping out their heart for someone else. The Klance here is absolutely wonderful.

8. The 'fuck your emotions' scene

WELL DAMN, APVRRISH, FUCK WITH MY EMOTIONS WONT YOU?? THEYRE BOTH SO GODDAMN SELF SACRIFICIAL??? LIKE LANCE I GET IT YOU LOVE HIM AND DONT WANT HIM TO GET HURT BUT DONT PUSH HIM AWAY LIKE THIS PLEASE,, ON ONE HAND THIS SHOWS HOW MUCH LANCE CARES FOR KEITH AND WANTS HIM TO BE SAFE BUT ON THE OTHER HAND 'FUCK YOUR EMOTIONS' LANCE QUOTES LIKE ITS NO BIG DEAL... stop taking both mine and Keith's hearts and stomping them into bits you HEARTBREAKER

9. "The bell, when it rings above Lance's head, still cruelly sounds like laughter."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. CATCH ME SCREAMING INTO THE VOID BECAUSE DAMNNNNNNNN. THE HOLY UNION OF BEAUTIFUL WRITING AND ALL OF THE FEELS IN THE WORLD. My eyes do not deserve to see the glory that is this sentence,, I had to give it a separate topic from Quotes because it was just. So good,,, Even now I feel like I'm not doing it justice, but it's so MIND BLOWINGLY AWESOME that I just can't. 👏🏻👏🏻 you did good, apvrrish.

10. Keith realizing he loves Lance

Need I say any more? Literally ALL I could dare to ask for. It's beautiful and I love it a lot. I also like how you didn't make it this big panicky moment for Keith, because honestly? Finding out that you're in love with someone isn't supposed to be all 'oH MY GOD WHAT DO I DO THIS IS BAD'. If realizing that you're in love with someone is bad, well, why are you in love with that person in the first place?

I kinda went off on a tangent there but anyways!! My main point- I really REALLY liked you portrayal of this scene and the way you wrote it. *swallows down the screams of the damned my emotional heart*

11. The dandelion

They're soul bound. They're soul bound, and Keith used a love spell thingy to track down Lance because he loves him and holy hell they're SOUL BOUND. I mean, the whole soulmate thing is low key overdone, not just in this fandom but everywhere. Yet apvrrish manages to put her own unique spin on the whole thing, incorporating magic and the idea of 'marriage bonds', which is really unique.

12. The idea of modern magic

Okay so I've been trying to go in chronological order but as I keep reading I just find this world so so cool. Most times there's a magical AU, the characters are somehow in the past, or it's a different world. But this, this is a combination of modern tech and somehow also these awesome magical abilities. There are potions with real life ingredients (certain types of wood, flowers, stones or minerals, etc.) and for realistic purposes. This is so realistic that I can actually imagine it happening, which is GREAT because it shows just how good of a writer that apvrrish is, but at the same time, makes me wish so so hard that I could be part of this world. Modern magic,, hdjckskc stab me in the heart with everything I've ever wanted, won't you?

13. “True love or some shit, I think,” Lance says cheerfully, and waves his hand.

Another quote too good for the Quotes section. He says this so nonchalantly?? It fits Lance's character SO WELL and so was really funny (idrk why it just made me smile a lot). Also, they're in LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEE~

14. Red!!

Beautiful cat child is cute and deserves all the love. I ADORE witch familiars, and Red helping Keith out with the exorcism thing was really pleasing to read. Also,, Red and Lance interactions. The pLaYFuL bAnTEr between Keith and Lance. Hhhhhhhhhhhhh I love this so muchhhh

15. The ending

tHE ENDING, OH MY GOD THE ENDING. THEY LITERALLY RODE INTO THE SUNSET ON A MOTORCYCLE. IM CRYING ITS SO CLICHE BUT BEAUTIFUL??? ME, SOBBING? ITS MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK BECAUSE THIS IS A GORGEOUS CONCLUSION.

Also! "“Why not?” he says quietly, leaning back against Lance’s chest. “We’ve got time.”"

That. THAT. I've already said this in a comment on the fic itself, but this is so good it needs to be said again. This entire story has kind of a recurring theme of how Keith doesn't have enough time with his loved ones (his parents and Lance because of the curse). But now that he broke the curse, he finally had time to be all cutesy and happy with Lance because they have time. Lance is no longer in danger of dying, and so they can take the long way and enjoy life just because now, they can. Catch me screaming into the void again because THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

A last note- I found a song that kinda fits for this fic. The lyrics match the best, but in general the song is also super pretty!! So if you have time give it a listen because it's,, so good (jUST LIKE THIS FIC).

I still feel like all this ranting isn't enough to do this work of art and perfection justice, but anyways!! Apvrrish, continue being the awesomely amazing writer you are.

~Paladin

#honestly!!#a gem of a fic #voltron #vld #fanfiction #apvrrish #calling me to come back #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i still love it so much

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