#though I am aware that I am objectively being salty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delusionaid · 7 months ago

Note

✖☠♢☢✿ teehee <333

salty munday meme

You just want to see the world burn~

✖ How has Tumblr RP changed since you started?

My gods, where do I start? When I started we all had ridiculous URLs with 4 dashes in each, we all used random huge gifs as reactions, nobody formatted anything or used small text, and a LOT of people I knew were actually in RP groups and not independent blogs. None of the common staples of RP now were a thing the people I used to write with thought about, I feel: blog rules were none-existent or very very short and basic, exclusivity was not that big a thing (except for the group RPs), blog graphics really didn't matter.

Obviously I can't speak for all of tumblr and all fandoms, but that was my experience in the early days. It felt very low effort and low pressure but high fun. There was a lot less drama than nowadays too, from what I remember, and the overall atmosphere was quite welcoming and.. silly.

☠ What does someone have to do for an instant unfollow from you?

Be rude or mean or cruel or overall obnoxious to me or others. I don't agree with everyone on everything and I don't expect that from anybody else either. But there are things like common decency and manners and mutual respect and tolerance. As long as these things are present, we're going to be just fine. If I see you hating on others or bullying them - and I don't care about your reasons for it - I'm out. We could have absolutely opposing views on e.g. ships but be respectful about it and we'll get along. However, we could have the exact same taste in ships yet I see you hating on other people or being a bully (even if you're nice to me) and we'll absolutely not be friends. Be kind, it takes less energy than being a terrible human being, actually.

Gotta put the rest under a cut because it's long :)

♢ Has anyone ever tried to steal your blog? Your headcanons? Icons? All that jazz

I'm not sure about RP, I don't really pay attention to that. I don't particularly care as long as someone doesn't kinda copy me and then try to go to my writing partners with the same ideas. If someone took my verses or headcanons 1:1 to write them with their own friends and writing partners, honestly have at it. My headcanons also have to be quite specific for me to feel like they're unique to my portrayal. People who write the same muses often come up with similar things because we base it on what we deduce from observing canon and there will be overlaps.

I've had people steal and repost my fanfictions though. And I've had my graphic edits and gifsets reposted without my permission.

�� What fads/trends are you so over?

Purple prose writing - I never liked it and I never will. Generally excessive formatting too, to be honest. It get that it looks cool, but unless you are engaging in calligram poems the focus on aesthetics over content for me seems a bit misplaced. As always, to each their own, and if that's the art you are aiming to create here then you are doing a fabulous job, but it's simply not what I am looking for.

✿ What do you think about public call out posts?

I think they're bad. More often than not they feel like an excuse to bully people and they create more harm than good. They are never fully honest, never an objective recount of events and never lead to any positive outcomes as far as I can tell. They're the modern online version of trying to create an angry lynch mob to get someone burned at the virtual stake. I reject callout posts and cancel culture in general wholeheartedly.

Of course there are dangerous and shady people in online spaces (like there are away from your computers as well) and in very rare cases it might be good to make a community aware of an ongoing issue or the possibility of something happening. There should be a GENERAL awareness of the dangers of the online world and strangers that could help prevent actual serious incidents. That said, most callouts I've seen are not about serious cases, they're about people having personal altercations that have nothing to do with the rest of the community and should not be discussed in a public war of who's better at making the other look like a psychopath. There are good reasons why in real life, if someone is accused of a crime it's forbidden for people to take justice into their own hands and go after them. When you see a callout on your dash, you never have all the facts, nobody ever seems to question the source of these callouts (enough), they're always incredibly biased and presenting "evidence" out of context (which is the opposite of transparent), and never encourage you to listen to both sides of the story and make your own opinion of it. All of that should make you think twice before you even consider reblogging that. Also: imagine someone wrote a callout about you, with ill-intent, fabricating lies and making your past (& private) messages look shady out of context. Would you want total strangers to shun or even attack you without giving you the benefit of the doubt? I guess not, huh? Do not carelessly treat things as good that you don't want to happen to you in a bad case scenario.

It's just a hard pass for me. I reject this as a way of dealing with personal problems. Not to mention that I don't relate to people's desire to air their dirty laundry on social media. Try to fix your personal issues in private and think about the future consequences of your actions before you publish a lengthy text about someone who wronged you, calling them all sorts of names and things that you will likely find far less appropriate in a year from now, potentially ruining their other friendships, messing with potential new friendships, their chance to calmly reflect on their behavior, and possibly get them ostracized from an entire FANDOM.

#( ooc asks. )#( meme reply. )#thank you teatea!!

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vohalika · 7 years ago

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“Ioun is quite a goddess though, and she doesn’t respect secrets.”

Aka yes, I am going to be that person.

Ioun does not like secrets. Which is why the entire quest to gain her favor involved getting a book that was locked away. Which is why you sought her out to find out about a ritual that had been kept secret. Which is why she locked herself away in secrecy.

Which is why she chose someone who quite frequently lies, deceives, and uses his knowledge to run a criminal organization, who fucks around with memories for personal gain or amusement as her champion. Yes. All of this adds up.

And yes, maybe I’ve spent too much time talking about this to see it clearly at this point, but like... Man. I feel like this was more due to Matt’s perception of how certain classes are supposed to be played rather than how the characters actually are played.

Yeah, sure, Bards are supposed to carry and impart knowledge and pass it on and tell your story. But as someone else aptly pointed out, Keyleth lives on to tell the story, Tary writes the Ember Island Players version, and Scanlan writes the porn parody.

The character of Scanlan as played so far is not a lore bard, he’s a troll bard. Nothing wrong with that! But also, wasn’t it part of his crisis that he always felt like the teller of stories, but never like part of it? Or is confirming the characters’ worst fears about themselves just what gods do at this point? I mean, Vex felt unworthy there for a second, and Percy has just been gobsmacked in the face by two goddesses now.

And I knoooow he seems fine. He says he’s fine. Vex says she’s fine with what Scanlan said to her before he left, too. This kind of reads the same?

And especially after Ioun just brought up redemption seconds before choosing her champion, this just... Yeah, sorry Percy, you’re unworthy of this, too, you secret keeping mad man, you. Of course Percy would take that in stride; it’s what he’s always believed about himself to begin with.

This sucks even more considering that they apparently really have to get going now. The trip to Kord was just turned down flat. No one even brought up Melora, or a suitable god for Percy. Maybe Moradin might be something to look into, but, you know, that’d be kind of weird. Taking the god of dwarves for anyone non-dwarven. I can see that work out for Grog, though, given his dwarven beard and hammer, because random loot is now totes relevant when tying people to gods.

Ugh. And I know this will be a none-issue. I knooow. Still.

And I hold that it doesn’t really fit Scanlan, either. If anything, Ioun represents what a bard is supposed to be, even though there should be a separate god for music and performance. If you wanted to make it about his character and his journey, give him a god of family or something. It’s like back when the quest for Scanlan’s vestige involved solving a riddle. Which was ultimately solved by Percy.

Also, secrets as the disqualifying thing? Just. No. I did the math. When you go by secrets, Percy and Scanlan lie and keep to themselves roughly the same amount of things. Just that most of the time, Percy has a good reason, whereas Scanlan just wants to fuck with people. Gah. I’ll probably write all of this out properly at some point, I’m just really kind of upset by this.

(Sprigg saying goodbye to Percy with the “I’m going to think of you when I read these books.” kind of moved me to tears, though. And Percy and Keyleth talking about fuck the gods and fuck destiny was perfect.)

#critical role #cr spoilers #the ioun discourse #is at an end I know #doesn't mean I have to like it #though I am aware that I am objectively being salty

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gothicwidowsworld · 3 years ago

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Schoolgirl Crush S.V

Part 1 - TW: Age gap, Reader is around 25

“I really need to talk to you.” Y/N Horner pleaded softly, capturing the German Drivers attention, her statement was direct, friendly even but it was missing the small smile that was often paired with his name. “We can’t talk here.” Sebastian stated awkwardly flickering his frost blue eyes over Y/N’s y/h frame. “Fine but we need to have this conversation Sebastian.” the young woman said sternly, nodding slightly to acknowledge the man’s rejection. It hurt. It made Y/N feel like a bothersome child pushing their luck. Glancing down the paddock that was still host to the occasional camera crew and reporter Sebastian sighed before placing a strong hand on her shoulder the German Driver quickly guided Y/N into the Aston Martin hospitality looking for the first free room available.

The odd looks the pair received only made Y/N feel even worse. She shouldn’t be anywhere near Aston Martin let alone being frogmarched into a tiny office probably to be lectured at yet again. The y/h/c woman had quite frankly had enough lectures to last a lifetime, people seemed to think she wasn’t aware of what she’d done. People have children every day and yet because of the name she shared, the lifestyle she lived everyone felt like they were allowed to dictate how she lived her life.

“I’m not a child Sebastian.” Y/N objected softly, removing the Drivers hand from her shoulder once the door was closed behind them. Despite her brave face and reassuring small smile the y/h/c young woman's voice was laced with sadness with a tinge of distress. The German man nodded, remaining silent for a moment. He knew she wasn’t a kid, Y/N had proved that time and time again but he still couldn’t shake this feeling that he was taking advantage of the angelic woman. She was 24 and an adult, only 10 years his junior but they’d met when she was 13. Back when coming to the factory with her Father had seemed like a chore instead she would hang around with the Drivers even though they were really supposed to be focusing on work.

“I know” Seb replied, running a hand over his face hoping to ease the stress beginning to show on his pale face. “Then stop treating me like one.” Y/N mumbled. Running a protective hand over her bump the y/h/c girl tried to fight the growing tears burning to escape. “I don’t know why I even bothered” Y/N exclaimed, releasing a breathy laugh, sarcasm choking her. “You know I’ve tried to so hard to be mature and be an Adult about this and yet I keep seeming to fuck up.” Y/N ranted out loud.

“I had everything I wanted to say planned out, I wanted to tell you I was pregnant from the start. I wanted to be honest with you. I was just scared.” Y/N spouted uncomfortably her voice beginning to tremble with each point.

“What am I doing?!” Y/N choked out, the tears that had filled her y/e/c orbs not hesitating to make paths down her y/s/c face, in fact it seemed like some of the droplets of sadness were chasing each other. “I don’t even know what I’m doing..” the y/h/c young woman mumbled sadly, roughly palming the salty tears away. Wrapping an arm around the woman Sebastian stayed silent, the German Driver was conflicted. He could play the role of concerned role model or be honest with himself and reassure the Horner girl that Monaco had happened for a reason and that no matter what happened he’d be there for her. “You can’t let anyone tell you what to do.” The man stated half-heartedly. “But I’m asking…” Y/N mumbled trying to take deep breaths and stem the flowing tears. Turning to face the blonde haired man Y/N frowned slightly “I’m begging Sebastian tell me what to do, I’ve tried so hard to do it alone but I keep fucking up.” the young woman whispered, catching the man’s frost blue eyes trying to read what was written behind them. Annoyance? Perhaps he was trying to find the words to leave. “You could never mess up.” Sebastian replied, shooting the young woman a small smile in hopes it would appear reassuring. Y/N scoffed, sniffling slightly “I messed up us… royally.”

“No. No, that was my fault.” The German argued, wincing at the subtle anger laced in his tone it wasn’t directed at Y/N. Sebastian couldn’t imagine ever being angry with the Horner Girl, this anger was directed at himself. He’d allowed the fear of other people's opinions to poison their friendship, their relationship and what their relationship could have been. Monaco hadn’t been the first time that their long time friendship had been put to the test but it had been the first time he’d been unable to talk himself out of action. Action that now resulted in Y/N crying thinking she’d ruined his life. “I don’t understand?” Y/N mumbled pulling away from the older man's side instead wrapping her own arms around herself in a form of protection. “I took advantage of you Schatz” Sebastian replied, biting his lip harshly at the German that had weaselled its way into his sentence. “Seb you didn’t take advantage of me?” Y/N said confusion laced in her aching voice.

“Monaco happened because I liked you. I loved you.” Y/N reassured the man threading her fingers through his, a gentle squeeze comforting the Aston Martin Driver. “It wasn’t some schoolgirl crush that returned on a whim.” Y/N continued. “You loved me?” Seb asked slowly, his accent seemed just a fraction stronger when he was doubtful. “That’s probably a tad untrue. I still love you.” The y/h/c young woman laughed breathlessly, her free hand coming to sit on her baby bump absentmindedly. “But whether that’s as a friend or not is up to you.” Y/N stated quietly, almost whispering like she was sharing a secret. “Told you I was maturing.” the Horner girl teased. “Ich liebe dich” the man said with a soft smile finding a home on his face. “As more than a friend.” The German clarified. “And I love this little one du bist meine zukunft” Seb hummed happily gingerly placing his hand on top of Y/N’s y/s/c one still sat on her growing stomach.

du bist meine zukunft - You are my future

#gothicwidow #imagines #au imagines #Sebastian Vettel imagines #Sebastian Vettel x reader #Sebastian Vettel x Horner reader #formula one x horner reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagines #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 x horner reader

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khaotic-kitsunes · 3 years ago

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Drifting

I had so much fun writing up the introduction to this request! You’ll probably see why in just a minute too...but, fun fact, the lovely Khaos, the newest addition to the blog, helped me out with this request when I found myself a little stuck!

Khaos added a helpful amount of amazing to the ending scene, so be sure to thank them for their amazing input! Oh, and make sure ya let us know what you think, okay?

I would also like to add that I know it’s been quiet here on the blog and I’m sorry for that but personally, I’ve had some...curveballs thrown at me health wise so you probably won’t see a lot from me. So, yeah.

Navigation

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

Tamaki slowly peeked up above the ocean’s surface, keeping as quiet as possible to remain unnoticed while he allowed his eyes to land upon the object of his curiosities and affections; swallowing thickly when he realised that you had shown up at exactly sunset yet again, just like always.

And, as always, you were alone. You had no companions that could prevent him from stealing you away to his secret cave and no one to help you if he decided to keep you to himself. An idea that appealed to him more with each of your visits to the beach.

What interested Tamaki most, however, was the fact that with each of your visits, you made sure to only come by the secluded beach at sunset; when everyone else had gone home for the day. Tourists seemed to believe all the local’s stories of monsters beneath the water’s surface, waiting for the sun to go down so that their attacks could go unnoticed until it was too late.

Of course, it was all nonsense. Tamaki was the only merperson to occupy this particular beach and he had been for quite a few years now; any and all monsters were long gone, migrated to places that weren’t so aware of the dangers that lurked beneath the depths.

But it was also because of the late hour that you came to the beach, that Tamaki couldn’t approach you. He was all too aware of how a human woman might react to a random man approaching them in the water when the sun was beginning to set, shadows casting over the sky and melting the beautiful orange hues into an inky blackness.

So, instead, Tamaki had to be satisfied with watching you from afar. Appreciating your beauty and daydreaming about all the different possibilities of meeting you; how he could befriend you and get closer, all while knowing it would be an impossibility.

~ ~ ~

Tamaki stared at you with wide, saucer-like eyes, his mouth hanging open while you swam towards him slowly; your body remaining below the water’s surface, hiding the fact that you were without your bikini top.

The very same bikini top that he held in his hands, a scrap of clothing that he had been inspecting out of confusion given that it was nearly midnight and he had thought that you had left the beach hours ago like you normally would.

“…I think that’s mine” Your softly uttered words startled him, making him jolt and sink down further into the water while he released the bikini top; allowing it to float up to the surface, harmlessly bobbing up and down with the waves between the both of you.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t realise that someone else was here” He muttered out a pathetic excuse for an apology, trying his best not to let his tentacles move into your line of sight; desperate to at least seem normal, even if it wouldn’t be a lasting impression.

Tamaki gulped nervously as he watched you reach for the floating bikini top, averting his gaze when you shuffled around to put the piece of clothing back on; the hurried movements of your fingers catching his attention with how the water splashed from the clumsy actions. The silence beginning to feel awkward while Tamaki tried his best not to look at you before you were ready, not wanting to come off as a pervert. Not to you.

“It’s okay, I didn’t realise anyone else was here either. Not this late at night anyways and certainly not with the way everyone goes on about the monsters that are waiting for sunset so they can eat you” You rolled your eyes as the words left your lips, briefly giving Tamaki a once over before nodding your head to yourself; making Tamaki wonder if you were giving him the benefit of the doubt despite how strange it was for him to be here at this time, more so considering that he had technically been holding onto your bikini top.

Then again, it would make sense for you to assume that he had thought it was a piece of seaweed; because honestly, that’s exactly what Tamaki had first thought when he picked it up.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to investigate strange and/or suspicious objects that were found floating in the ocean, only to cast them away as quickly as they had been found. Tamaki had seen humans do so more times than he could count and luckily for him, he had had the brains to immediately release the skimpy piece of clothing; a guilty man would have tried to hide it, or simply kept held of it. Not Tamaki though, he had dropped it, allowed you to take it back and even averted his gaze so that you could have some form of privacy while fixing your top; even if it hadn’t been a great deal of privacy. There was only so much he could offer given the circumstances after all.

However, even with these facts in mind, Tamaki could easily see that you were still on guard and he was happy to see such a thing. It reassured him that you didn’t trust random strangers in the water just because they had been polite enough to look away while you were topless.

“Still, I am sorry…about your top, I mean. If I had of known what it was…” Tamaki trailed off as his face flushed with embarrassment, the tips of his pointed ears beginning to turn a similar shade of scarlet while he dipped further into the gentle waves of the night’s warm ocean waters; only stopping when his nose was beneath the salty waters.

“It’s fine, okay? No harm, no foul” You hummed out the words in a soft voice, swimming around to face the embarrassed merman; all the while being completely unaware of what he truly was.

“So…what brings you out so late?” Your question made Tamaki’s body go stiff, anxiety rushing through his system while his brain scrambled to think of something, anything to say in response to such an innocently asked question; anything but the truth, that is.

There was no way known that Tamaki could tell you the truth behind his daily visits to this beach, especially when he could live happily and stealthily beneath the ocean waves for the rest of his life if it weren’t for your presence on this beach.

Tamaki wanted to slap himself. Here he was, minding his own business in the ocean when the opportunity that he would have killed for, landed in his lap. The chance to speak with you, instead of just stare at you from afar and yet here he was, completely and utterly unable to get a single word out; instead, the fears of what could happen filled his mind.

The terrifying what ifs of you hating him if he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing tormenting him into a nervous silence. Tamaki’s only relief from the situation, was that he would have the memories of having gotten close to you without making you scream and panic; though that also meant that no one would notice if he were to steal you away in that moment, if he took you to a place that no one would ever hope to find.

But that was something that he couldn’t do and definitely something that Tamaki shouldn’t think about, unless he wanted to fuel the desires that he so often pushed aside. You would surely hate him if he were to do even half of the things that he had thought about.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around…” You mumbled out the farewell awkwardly, turning away from Tamaki in order to swim back towards the shore, no longer able to enjoy the solitude of an empty beach.

“Uh, wait!” Tamaki called out to you again, finally able to find his voice once more as he reached out for you, his hand closing around your arm. Sealing his choice of interaction with you when you turned to face him. He should have let you leave.

“Your…um, your strap, it’s loose…” He barely managed to mumble out the words without humiliating himself, averting his gaze when he found himself unable to meet your eyes; not needing the added kick of self-loathing on top of his nervousness.

“You’ll lose your top again if you don’t fix it…”

“Oh. Well, do you mind?”

Tamaki gulped nervously as you turned your back to him once more, allowing him to reach for the loose strings belonging to your bikini top; needing to untie the knot that you had created in a rush minutes ago. If Tamaki were telling the truth, the knot probably would have held, but at the same time, he wouldn’t get another chance to let his skin brush against your own.

Now, he was in heaven, making sure to tie a strong knot while at the same time, being sure that it wasn’t so tight that you wouldn’t be able to undo it yourself later on.

“There…all done” He mumbled out the words under his breath when he was finished tying the knot, his fingers lingering on your skin for a brief moment, wanting more; though you pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

Leaving Tamaki to breathe a sigh of release, all while silently cursing both himself and all of his pent-up desires. More so when you spun around to smile at him, the radiance you gave off nearly blinding his mopey self.

“You’re beautiful…!” Tamaki blurted out the words before he could stop himself, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth with his eyes going wide in a mix of shock and horror. Mortified that he had said something like that without realising.

Your eyes went wide, the smile fading from your lips and making Tamaki wish that he had legs so that he could kick himself. Unaware that you weren’t upset, but rather the opposite, never having been so earnestly complimented before; it brought an unfamiliar warmth to your cheeks and to your heart.

“Um…thanks…” Tamaki watched you as you swam closer to him, torn between escaping to the ocean’s depths and closing the gap between the two of you; desperate for both, yet knowing better than to actually reach for the object of his desires.

With his mind struggling to choose between the two options, Tamaki froze in place at the worst time; allowing you to move closer until he felt your warm toes brush over his wriggling tentacles, fear filling him when you jolted back in surprise. Your eyes scanning the dark waters for seaweed.

“What’s…wrong?” Tamaki mentally slapped himself for asking while he watched you lower your head closer to the water’s surface, still searching for seaweed that he knew you wouldn’t find. He was just thankful that it was so late in the night, making it nearly impossible for you to see anything below the surface; you weren’t like him, you didn’t have eyes unaffected by the dark.

“Well, it’s just…I thought that something touched my leg…”

Tamaki moved his tentacles as far away from you as he could, praying that the darkness would be enough to push aside your curiosity, but apparently, it was too late; your hands closed around two of his now squirming tentacles as he tried to pull them free of your hold.

“Y-You…you’re a…” You breathed out in amazement, eyes wide as you stared at him and though it wasn’t in fear, Tamaki couldn’t take it. He wriggled his tentacles free of your grip and dove deep into the water; fearing what you would do now that you knew what he was.

“Wait!”

Tamaki ignored the muffled cry for him to stop, determined not to lose the strength it took to leave you behind instead of dragging you into the depths with him.

Before Tamaki could get too far away however, he felt your hands close around his tentacles for the second time, causing him to freeze on the spot; heart thundering in his chest. He was already struggling to keep himself contained after having his tentacles grabbed the first time, but now it was too much; his tentacles were sensitive after all.

Tamaki turned around in the water to look at you with a hunger that he had been pushing aside for far too long; using every last ounce of willpower he had left not to grab you and take you with him to his cave.

The two of you remained submerged for a moment longer, staring at each other through the impossibly dark ocean water of the night. Tamaki knew you couldn’t see him, but your hold on his tentacles was enough to give you a direction to look at and like this, he had the rare opportunity to take in your breathtaking appearance; enjoying it as much as possible before wrapping some of his tentacles around your body and swimming for the surface.

You were a human, which meant that you needed oxygen. A fact that he had nearly forgotten for a moment there, but either way; Tamaki wasn’t going to let you die. Not now, not when he could prevent it.

“I’m not…I’m not gonna—” Tamaki motioned you to stop speaking as you tried to cough at the words, a suggestion that you decided to follow given that it was hard to regain your breath and speak at the same time. Given that Tamaki was no longer trying to swim away and that his tentacles were still wrapped around your body, keeping you afloat so that you didn’t have to put any effort into swimming yourself; you figured that you had time to catch your breath.

“I was trying to say that I’m not going to turn you in. I was just…surprised, I guess” You rubbed at your neck as you explained yourself, your words making Tamaki’s stress melt away while thoughts of adoration towards you filled his mind.

It was mind blowing to him that a human that had just discovered his secret wasn’t about to go running off telling everyone that merpeople existed and it certainly made him love you more than he already did.

“Though, I am a little confused. I’ve heard those stories for years, listening to them as a little girl…how going out into the water at night is a terrible idea because monsters from the ocean will drag you beneath the water and steal you away” Tamaki grimaced as you giggled at the thought, clearly having no idea how close you had come to such a fate; even if the end result would have been different. Tamaki wouldn’t have hurt you, or eaten you alive like the old monsters of the ocean would have; no, he would have done so many different things to you. Things that would surely have you slap him if he dared to say them aloud to you.

“Well, you know…don’t believe everything you hear I guess…” He managed to get a light-hearted chuckle out as he spoke, deciding that for the moment it would be better to keep you entrapped in his tentacles; mostly so that you couldn’t grab a hold of them again and push him into his instincts more than you already have.

“I guess so, but I don’t know…you don’t seem so bad. Maybe having you steal me away wouldn’t be so terrible” Tamaki’s features twisted into unfiltered surprise at your giggled words, blood rushing through his ears and completely blocking out whatever it was that you were currently continuing on with.

It seemed you managed to notice the faraway look in his eyes while his mind worked overtime to process your joke. Going as far as to reach out with your hand to brush your fingertips against his cheek, ripping him from his thoughts and dragging him back to reality; your eyes locking with his heated gaze the moment his attention was back on the present you instead of his fantasy version.

“…You would let me steal you away?” He pulled your body closer to his with his tentacles as he spoke, the slippery limbs tightening their hold on you ever-so-slightly while you gulped nervously; unable to look away from the merman in front of you.

“…I…yes, I guess so” You spoke softly, unsure words tasting foreign to your tongue but unregrettable all the same. There was a certain air of importance surrounding the spoken words and now you found yourself slowly beginning to sink into the water with a smiling Tamaki.

It was amazing, how his eyes had lit up with joy at your uttered words. Though it made you think vaguely of the old fae stories, where your word was a binding contract and if that were to be held in the same regard with mer-people, then it seemed like you had agreed to a new way of life.

“You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ve got the perfect place in mind for you, you’ll be safe with me…I won’t let anyone steal you away…”

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lovestrucked-again · 4 years ago

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Something You Should Know

Summary: Your boyfriend asks you to help teach one of his colleague’s a lesson and you agree reluctantly. He forget’s to mention one thing though, his colleague’s pretty hot.

Genre: smuT Pairing: boyfriend!Jaehyun x female Y/N x Johnny x (ft Yuta) Word count: 4.8k

Warning: SMUT, cheating? if you read to the end it’s like pSyCH. handjob, oral sex (Jaehyun/Yuta/Y/N), teasing, ass sex? mindblank forgot the term, double penetration, sex, nipple teasing, humiliation, dirty talk.

a/n: Hi, how has your day been? :) _____

“What was that about?” You ask, your eyes still on the TV as Jaehyun falls back against the couch after a long call.

“Just Johnny,” He sighs, ruffling a hand through his hair.

“How’s he doing?”

“Not bad, he just wanted to come round sometime soon to catch up with us.”

“That sounds nice.” You hum, agreeing with the idea.

The TV show continues, the tiny forms of pixel racing across the screen to produce one of your favourite movies you’d chosen to re-watch. It’s a lot harder to concentrate with Jaehyun beside you. His fingers restlessly tapping against your leg as his eyes are on trained on you instead.

Finally, you cave in to his stare, “What?”

He grins, reaching for the remote to pause the scene before talking, “Babe I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Johnny’s been acting like a real jerk recently, thinking he can fuck anyone he wants including one of the managers at work.”

“So?”

“I was thinking,” he pauses, sitting cross legged on the couch and turning his body to face you, “Maybe it’d be fun to wind him up a little through the evening, like if you could openly flirt with him and leave him hanging then send him off.”

The idea runs through your mind. “What? Why me?”

“Because you’re hot.”

You can’t help but laugh, “To you maybe.”

"Are you kidding? Several of my mates say how lucky I am."

"Oh yeah, like who?" You question, suddenly very intrigued.

"I'm not telling you that," Jaehyun frowns in reply.

You laugh at his pouting form, his dimples furrowing further into his cheeks as he keeps his gaze level with yours. You relax a little into the couch, thinking about his suggestion. “Are you sure about it?”

“Yeah why not?” He crosses his arms, leaning back against the armrest, "It's only a bit of fun, I just want to put him in his place, you don't actually have to sleep with him."

Just for fun. Not actually doing anything physical.

“Yeah okay, I’ll help.”

*** When the night finally comes around, you struggle choosing out an outfit, but eventually decide on purposefully picking a rather shortish skirt with a low V line shirt, allowing your push up bra to show a nice cleavage.

While you’re choosing your accessories Jaehyun finishes up in the shower, your back towards him as he stares into your reflection through the bathroom mirror. "Fuck, you look gorgeous,” Jaehyun comments, leaning against the ensuite doorway, "I want to bend you over and take you now."

You clip on the pearl earring on your ear and turn around to face him. The visible bulge underneath his towel. "I can see that.” You laugh, giving him a side smirk as you stand up, pulling your skirt up a little.

You walk over to Jaehyun and pull his towel away so his standing naked. Your hand reaching to grab his cock and gliding your hand over it very slowly. Jaehyun lets out a low moan at the contact of your skin on his length. His voice getting louder as your hand works its way up and down his cock.

“Does that feel nice?” You purr.

“Ugh fuck Y/N,” he groans, “you look so fucking hot right now.”

“Isn’t that what how you want me for Johnny?” You tease

Seeing you in your short skirt, your low cut shirt and your breasts almost hanging out your bra, he second thinks the idea. Jaehyun trusted you to follow the plan but he was sure, certain, positive that there was no way Johnny would let you go tonight.

You drop onto your knees, still grasping tightly on his member, his cock now staring right in your face. You part your mouth open, and lightly lick the tip of his cock, tasting the familiar saltiness of his pre-cum.

Jaehyun remains still, completely lost in his ecstasy as he watches you suck on him, savouring every moment as you greedily slurp and suck his cock. His balls tighten as you play with them, your hand squeezing them gently as you continue to suck.

“Fuck that feels so good.”

The pressure builds inside his balls as your hand slips a little higher. His cum shooting straight into your mouth as you swallow it straight down. Jaehyun leans more against the wall to support himself as you suck on him, milking everything out and down your throat. You finally let him go as you feel his orgasm subside.

"Babe that was so good," he sighs, helping you up on your feet as you wipe away the droplets of cum sliding down your lip.

"That was a teaser, maybe if you’re a good boy tonight I’ll let you have some fun before bed.” You tell him, giving him a little wink as you go back to your dresser to fix your makeup.

"I can't fucking wait for that," Jaehyun groans staring at your backside.

“Go get dressed Jae.” You laugh, watching him daydream through the reflection.

***

You leave Jaehyun to get ready and make your way downstairs, preparing everything for their game night. The beer, spirits and snacks are all stocked up in your fridge just next to the dining room where they would be playing. At around 7:30, Jaehyun finally joins you, making sure everything’s set.

Doyoung’s the first to turn up, followed by Taeyong, Yuta and Taeil. You know all the guys so naturally, you give each of them a hug as they enter, each in turn letting them eye you up in surprise at your outfit; all of them giving you a wink, aware of the real purpose for tonight.

“How are you feeling?” Yuta asks, trailing behind as you lead him and the others to the setup game zone.

“Not too bad.”

The doorbell rings and you excuse yourself, letting Yuta join the others as you skip down the hall to answer it, ready to put the plan into action. Except what Jaehyun had failed to mention to you earlier, was what Johnny actually looked like. You had met his other colleagues, the group of them having worked together for many years. But Johnny, well, Johnny is something else.

You cling onto the door for support, feeling your knees weaken when you see him. Johnny was tall, well built, brown hair and had looks to die for. He smiles as you stare.

“You must be Y/N,”

"Uh yes," you stammer out.

"I'm Johnny," he says offering you his hand.

"Of course, come in," you reply shaking his hand, which feels a bit odd considering all the other's had got a peck on the cheek.

Johnny follows you down the hall and into the dining room. You take a quick detour and run into the kitchen to get him a beer. Jaehyun quickly appears by your side.

"Fuck, you could have told me he was so hot," you blurt out. Jaehyun gives a little smirk, amused at your flustered reaction to his colleague.

"Sorry, didn't think it mattered. Either way, he's a ladies’ man and he knows it, so we want you to put him in his place. Oh and he's already mentioned how lucky I am. Get to work and show him he can't have everything he wants.”

You take a deep breath, turning your nerves into a forced smile as you take on the role. As the night goes on, you can tell that Johnny behaves with an air of arrogance and you can hear him talking about his conquests at work and how he’s now planning his next move on one of the directors who was in her fifties.

"If I can get in her pants, I'll be right up the ladder," you hear him say.

You hide the laugh that's about to escape your lips, swallowing a gulp of the soft drink in your hand. Yep Jaehyun was right. This guy really does think a lot of himself, good looking or not. You continue to supply the boys with drinks and snacks, taking every opportunity to show a bit of yourself as you lean over the table, reaching unnecessarily far for no reason. At one point you turn to go and feel a smack on your backside. You let out a little yelp and turn around, unsurprisingly discovering its Johnny.

"Proper beauty you've got here Jaehyun, no wonder you look tired all the time," you hear him say, followed by a deep chuckle.

“I’m not an object asshole.” You mutter to yourself, storming away to cover your irritation from being seen.

You’re in the kitchen when you hear Johnny asking Jaehyun where the toilet is. He guides Johnny through the kitchen, passing you briefly to the downstairs bathroom which is rarely used. You have your back to Johnny as he comes in and you jump, feeling him creep up behind you.

"So, just how did Jaehyun manage to find a sexy woman like you?" he whispers into your ear as he gets a little too close, letting his chest brush against you.

Time to up my game. You carefully undo a button on your blouse to reveal more of your bra and cleavage and turn around; with some difficulty as Johnny’s right behind you. His height makes it incredibly hard to stare him straight in the eyes and while you attempt to keep his gaze on your face, it’s pretty obvious that he’s looking somewhere else.

"Do you think I could have done better then?" you ask with a pout.

"Jaehyun’s good, but you seem way out of his league," he replies

"Would I be good enough for you?" you ask fluttering your eyelids, feeling a bit of a fool as you do so.

Johnny manages to hide the shock from your question, believing your show, “You’d be more than good enough.”

He leans forward and you place your palms on his chest, pushing him back to keep the little distance between yourselves.

"Forget it, there's only one man that's going to have this," you tell him, following his gaze to your chest, "and it certainly isn't you."

Johnny takes a step back, throwing his hands in the air sarcastically pretending to be offended. "What's all this about you little prick tease? You've been giving me the come on all night" he chuckles, bringing a hand through your hair.

You swat away his hand before buttoning back up on your blouse.

"You really think my boyfriend was going to invite you into his house and have you fuck his girlfriend?" you snarl at him.

"Shit, I'm sorry, but I've not done anything, you were the one flirting with me," he genuinely did look sorry and you feel a pang of guilt.

"Look, the guys are fed up of you bragging about your conquests and treating women like dirt, they just wanted to teach you a lesson that was all."

"It'll take more than that," he says, turning back to his arrogant self, "well if you do fancy a bit of a change sometime let me know." Then he was off to the toilet before going back to the game of poker.

You were furious at his attitude, your anger directed as much to Jaehyun as to Johnny, for getting yourself into this in the first place. Johnny was a good looking guy, but yes, definitely full of himself. Was it all just an act though, he had seemed hurt when you had a go at him. You decide you had enough of the little game and it was time for you to retire upstairs and return to the comfort of your bed. Jaehyun appears just as you’re about to leave the kitchen.

"Everything all right baby?" he asks.

"No, it is not all right, I'm going to bed. You can continue your game and get your own drinks." You tell him, arms folded, throwing the hand towel on the kitchen bench as you walk off.

Jaehyun looks puzzled, but he doesn't question it.

An hour or so later, Jaehyun appears in your shared bedroom. You’re already changed into a nightie, but left your little thong on; too lazy to switch it. You weren’t happy with Jaehyun for making you wind Johnny up, but at the same time it had got you aroused, so if he apologised it wouldn't all be wasted. However, when you see him stumble through the door, you realise even if he did apologise he was in no fit state for anything else. Clearly they had moved on to the whisky.

"Good game." you say flatly.

"Yeah, I think so." He slurs, “Look I'm sorry about earlier, you should have said it would make you uncomfortable." Jaehyun flops down onto the bed, bouncing the mattress and your bpdy, and you know for a fact, he would be staying there till morning.

He mumbles out a barely audible sentence, his face pressed into the pillow, "A few of the guys are staying over. Taeyong’s in the spare room and Johnny is downstairs, I think he's watching the football or something."

A minute later and Jaehyun’s knocked out, completely cold. You switch off the bedroom lights, pulling the bedsheets up to cover the two of you; tucking yourself in. But whatever Johnny’s watching, it begins to bother you, the TV unnecessarily very loud.

“What a pain.” You mutter, throwing on a dressing gown over your figure to check downstairs. You grab your phone on the bedside table, flicking the torch light on as you make your way out the room. As the screen light becomes brighter you notice it isnt football that's playing, but rather a late night TV chat channel with a couple of girls with rather large breasts on the show, talking about nothing in particular. You walk over to the TV not even bothering to give Johnny a glance before turning it off. When you turn around to face the sofa, your jaw almost drops; Johnny lays there fast asleep, pants half way down his legs and the most enormous semi erect cock in his hand. What the fuck?

Not only had he comes to his friend’s place and try something with his girl but the fact that he was now crashed out on your sofa watching porn on the TV and in the middle of a semi wank. Suddenly, a realisation hit you; now was your chance. You unlock your phone, clicking into the camera app to take a couple photos of Johnny lying asleep, cock in hand. This will wipe the arrogant grin off his face.

That was your original plan. But you end up standing there staring at his cock for a little longer, it’s far bigger than what you had seen and you were a little shocked to admit it. You manage to get so caught up in your own thoughts that you don’t realise Johnny had woken up.

"Impressed?" he asks, his voice a little raspy with a knowing grin.

Your eyes flicker between his eyes, to his dick, to the wall behind him, unsure where your focus should be as you choke out your reply, "What? Oh... Oh shit..."

He laughs. "Hey don't worry, everyone whose seen it has the same reaction," he says pointing his cock at you.

"I'm going back to bed," you stutter, turning to go.

"Hey wait," Johnny calls after you in a loud whisper. You don't know what compulsion it is, but you stop and turn to face him; who’s now standing. You peek a glance down, noticing his cock has hardened a little but still isn’t fully erect. "Now, as you've been taking photos of it, perhaps you'd like to experience it in the flesh."

"I didn't ta..." You let the words drop as Johnny grins at you.

"Keep the pictures, I'm sure they were really for your own use anyway," he says with a smile. “Come on, I bet you've never experienced one this size have you? Jaehyun won't ever know, he's probably knocked out from the whisky."

You know it’s complete madness but you falter, you can’t keep your eyes off his member and the temptation to touch it, to let it fill you, was growing with every passing second. You were sure that in length it would definitely beat your boyfriends and thickness was almost the same size. You can’t even imagine how it can fit inside of you, but you have a feeling you’re about to find out. Johnny gently takes a hold of you and sits you down beside him on the couch.

"I really shouldn't be do..."

"Shh," Johnny whispers

He leans over and kisses you very softly on the lips. You don't back off, instead slightly open your lips and let Johnny take the lead. You were so turned on, although you weren’t sure if it was the arrogance of the handsome man doing it or just his huge dick standing to attention between his legs. You kiss for a couple of minutes, animal passion slowly taking over as you respond to him.

He lifts up your gown, revealing your erect nipples sticking up, the cold air rushing past. He smiles at you while you keep your eyes low, feeling the heat rise to your cheek. He removes your gown easily and throws it aside.

"Mind if I touch them?" he asks enjoying the sight of your nipples.

You shake your head slightly. Of course I don’t mind. You have no idea what had suddenly come over you but you were desperate for this man to take you. Johnny plants more soft kisses on your lip's and begins to caress your firm tits with his palm. You let out a moan of approval. He gently goes to work on each of your nipples, tweaking them between his fingers. You lean back, revealing all your nakedness except for the pink thong, which is now sporting a very damp patch.

"Fuck, you have the most gorgeous body. Can I kiss it all over?"

"Please," you whisper, "I would like that."

Starting at your neck Johnny works his way down your body, spending plenty of time sucking and nibbling at your breasts and nipples. You lay back as he moves down past your belly and towards the top of your thong. Johnny looks up at you and you nod.

His hands roam up to your hip, easily taking hold of the soft material and slips it down your legs leaving you fully naked. He looks in admiration at your pussy, and slightly parts your legs, going to work with his tongue. You bring your hands towards your breasts, fondling your tits in ecstasy as Johnny circles your hardened clit and laps at the juices that are dribbling from your entrance.

"Tastes good," Johnny murmurs as he continues to lick your cunt.

You groan again and take hold of Johnny’s head pushing him into you and arching your back so you can get as much of his tongue as possible. You’re so close to coming, but you fight it off desperately; you wanted his cock to push you over.

"Fuck me," you plead, letting go of his head.

Johnny doesn’t need asking twice. He brings a cushion under your head and spreads your legs as wide as possible. You’re still unsure whether that monster can fit inside your pussy, but you��re sure as hell wet enough and willing to give it a go. Johnny pushes his big purple helmet, smothered in pre cum, against your opening teasing you by slightly slipping it in and then pulling it back out.

"Fuck me, pleeeaaase," you beg.

"Sure thing," Johnny replies and in one go pushes the whole length of his cock straight into you without a warning.

"Agggh," You cry out.

It hurts momentarily, but within seconds the feeling of his cock completely filling you up is more than you have ever experienced before in your life. Johnny sets to work at a slower rhythm as your pussy, if it’s possible, gets even wetter. You can just about see his cock covered in your love juice each time he pulls it out before thrusting back in and making you gasp every time. You can’t believe you’re even doing this, the guy was a dick, but hell did he know how to take a woman to heaven and back.

The two of you continue fucking this way for a couple of minutes, wrapped up in each other's sweating bodies, moaning and panting before you tell him you want to get on top. He slips his cock fully out of you and it springs up. You grab hold of it and wank it, barely able to get your hand fully enclosed on it. It feels like gripping the thick end of a baseball bat.

"Impressed aren't you?" He asks breathlessly.

"Mmmmm," You purr in reply.

You let go of his cock and ask him to lie on the rug on the living room floor. Johnny gets on the floor and, with some difficulty, you squat down over his cock. Your pussy is already feeling severely damaged from the initial fucking he had given you, but in a very very good way. You take hold of his shaft and guide it into your pussy. You still can’t believe that it’s possible to fit the whole thing in, but you’d done it once and so without hesitation, you slide down his pole again until you can feel your own juices seeping out onto his pubic hair.

"Oh that is so fucking good," you groan.

"Ride it you little whore.” Johnny grabs hold of your breasts as they droop above him.

"Pull my nipples," you urge. Johnny does so and you gasp once more in ecstasy.

"Oh my god this is so fucking good,"

You lean forward and nestle your head into Johnny’s neck as he thrusts his hips in the air knocking against yours, his cock driving into your pussy.

As it turns out you’re going to feel Jaehyun’s cock a lot sooner than you thought. You lift your head up to arch yourself back and really work on Johnny’s cock but you freeze on the spot.

"Oh fuck..." you mutter.

Jaehyun’s standing in front of you, just in his boxer shorts, with his cock sticking out of them while he moves his hand up his length.

"Shit, I..." You go to get off Johnny, but he holds onto you and you notice Jaehyun wink at him. "Wait a fucking minute," You gasp, "was this a setup?"

"Afraid so," Jaehyun replies, "Johnny saw your picture in my wallet one time and said how gorgeous you were. I told him if he could beat me in a game of poker he could have you if you'd let him. I knew you'd get turned on flirting all night."

You struggle to process the words, Johnny not slowing down as he pounds into you, your body being bounced up and down as you stare at Jaehyun. Clearly Jaehyun had not been as drunk as you thought. You hadn't exactly been turned on, but now you definitely were. You gasp as you feel the cock buried inside you begin to twitch and Johnny brings his fingers between your squished bodies, squeezing gently at your clit.

“Ugh..” the moan escapes your lips, although it’s meant to be silent. Both the boys hear it, and it powers Johnny more as he stretches himself back into you.

“You look so fucking hot,” Jaehyun murmurs moving closer to your brushed up bodies, “Bend over and keep fucking him, there’s no reason why I should be sitting on the sidelines.”

Johnny manages to work at a faster pace, sliding his cock in and out of your pussy, fucking it thoroughly and wildly. Jaehyun moves out of your sight and behind you, most likely just watching your body being bounced up and down.

But suddenly, you feel something wet trickle down your ass and before you know it, there’s a finger probing at the entrance. He pushes a finger straight up, letting you cry out again. You’d had his cock in your ass before, but the fullness inside your pussy already was going to prevent anything else from entering you without causing a lot of pain.

“Ahhh fuck, go slow,” you beg

Jaehyun holds his cock inside you, letting you warm up to his length as Johnny continues to move in and out of your pussy. Slowly, he eases his cock into you as Johnny holds your waist, holding you still to allow them in. They both work to build a rhythm, feeling their cocks rub against each other through the thin lining of your walls; the friction getting them both even harder. The initial pain which had been present before Jaehyun had first forced himself inside you had faded and now, you were in heaven.

With the grunts and moans coming from the three of you, it was only a matter of time before Yuta fumbles down the stairs, initially half asleep. When he finally makes out the figures on the floor in the living room, he strips himself free, instantly feeling much more alive. “Can I join?”

You had forgotten he was still in the house but seeing him at the entrance of the doorway, his cock standing erect, you nod. What the fuck is one more cock in the equation going to do?

It’s a rather awkward position but Yuta manages to squat down and force his cock into your mouth, letting you suck roughly around him. It’s a difficult task to concentrate on the length in your mouth as your body continues to be pounded from both holes. You grasp onto Yuta’s cock with your hands, attempting to guide it to your mouth, but each time you manage to grab it, your body jerks and his pre-cum slobbers against your lips, painting around the edges.

Although Yuta is the last to join, he’s the first to explode. His first spurt of cum landing into your mouth with a struggle. He gets up quickly, wanking his cock as fast as he can, showering the rest over your face and hair with his creamy cum. He squeezes the tip, forcing every last drop of cum from his cock before he finally flops against the couch, watching the remaining scene unfold.

You manage to hold on for a few more minutes before you finally feel the need to find your release. The feeling of two cocks rubbing against each other inside you becoming too much.

“I’m cominnng,” you scream, feeling the gush of juice fill your insides and burst around Johnny’s cock.

The two boys hold still, pushing themselves up to your hilt as you feel the overwhelming rush of your orgasm hit you. It seems to go on forever as you cry in ecstasy. Your body shakes with sheer pleasure as you come down from your sexual high and that image seems to do it for the boys.

Jaehyun pushes himself into your ass as far as he can, grabbing onto your hips as his cum shoots deep into your passage. He continues to fuck you as he empties himself, making sure every last drop is left inside before he finally slips out.

Your focus goes back to the man beneath you, hands gripping at the sides of his chest as you claw at him, letting him guide you to reach your second high; Jaehyun’s presence being pushed back in your mind. Your body shudders and trembles as you’re left to hold your weight up before eventually, you give in, losing feeling in your arms as you fall onto Johnny’s chest and your pussy spasms with his twitching cock.

“Let me fill you up,” he groans, thrusting deeper inside to shoot a stream after stream flow of cum into your worn out pussy.

“Don’t stop until you’ve fucking ruined her,” Jaehyun calls out from behind; clearly getting into this.

With a few more hard thrusts, Johnny falls back against the floor in exhaustion; your body following with his. The room is filled with your heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself as you lay still, scared to take his cock out. When you finally feel him soften, you carefully ease yourself off it, leaving a trail of Johnny’s cum dripping from your pussy.

***

The night remains in your memory as an exhausting event. You’re not sure how you wake up in bed but the faint recollection of Johnny’s voice echoes inside your head as you remember Jaehyun’s warmth surrounding you; helping you off Johnny.

“Good game, let me know if you want a rematch.” Johnny chuckles, directing his words to your boyfriend.

Jaehyun laughs with him, the vibration of his chest causing your body to rock in his hold as you attempt to fight off the droopiness of your eyelids. With the very little energy you have left, you being thinking of next time. Your boyfriend never lost at poker, so you were certain, he must have deliberately lost the game and he would definitely, do it again.

#nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jaehyun smut #johnny smut #nct jaehyun #nct johnny #nct yuta #nct127 #jaehyun x reader #johnny x reader #nct #kpop smut #smut #jung jaehyun #seo johnny #nct x reader

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kasienda · 3 years ago

Text

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Chapter 2 - Best Friends

Chapter 1: I Want it to be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Free running across rooftops as Snake Noir wasn’t as effective in easing the heaviness on his mind as he had hoped. And the more time that passed, the more Adrien realized that he was getting worse - not better. He came to a stop on a rooftop, and huddled against a chimney, clutching his head in both hands. His akumatized self had destroyed the world .

The whole world. He was capable of that.

He fought for air in shallow rapid breaths, but it didn’t work. The needed oxygen continued to elude him.

He needed help, and he needed it five minutes ago. He forced himself into a standing position, even as his limbs began shaking. He glanced around the skyline trying to triangulate his own position from landmarks. The mansion was too far away - he’d never make it in time. So it was either Nino or Marinette.

Nino was closer.

He called for his second chance right outside his best friend’s window without slowing down or coming to a stop. He jumped through the thankfully open window. Nino was sitting with his back to Adrien with his headphones snug over his ears clearly lost in a world of music. Adrien wasted no time in pouncing across the room and seizing Nino in a hug.

Adrien had never clung to anyone so hard. He was shaking like a leaf in an autumn storm, and salty tears came down over his mask in torrents.

Nino stiffened, turned around within Adrien’s embrace, and dropped the headphones around his neck. “C-c-chat Noir?”

“A-Adrien,” he choked out.

Nino’s arms immediately tightened around him. He asked no questions, he didn’t react at all except to hold him tighter as Adrien let out violent sobs. Nino just held him until the snake miraculous signaled Snake Noir was out of time.

Read on Ao3

“Second chance,” Adrien whispered. And he was outside the window once again, but he doesn’t do anything different in the next loop. He just throws himself into Nino’s startled embrace, tells him he’s Adrien, and every time, Nino’s arms tighten around him. And it got worse before it got better. Adrien would have lost track of how many loops he had gone through if the snake didn’t magically make it impossible to forget. But after twenty-six loops of Nino’s solid consistent response Adrien’s panic finally subsided a bit and he was eventually able to gain control of both his breathing and his tears.

“Dude, are you okay?” Nino asked. He pulled back a little, but his arms were still on Snake Noir’s shoulders.

“No,” Adrien said. Even that one word was hard to get out. His voice sounded shaky to his own ears.

“What happened?” Nino asked, and Adrien is grateful that Nino isn’t asking a million questions about his being Chat Noir.

“Today Ladybug told me why she’s never been able to tell me her identity or let me tell her mine.”

Nino nodded.

Adrien spoke rapidly, knowing he was on a time limit. “Apparently, our knowing each other leads to my akumatization. And as an akuma,” his voice broke as sobs choked off his air supply once again.

“It’s okay, dude. Take your time.”

Adrien sucked in a shuddering breath, and tried again. “As an akuma, I destroyed the world.”

Nino blinked at him. “W-what?”

”The whole freaking world, Nino.” Adrien rocked himself back and forth until Nino pulled him into another hug and took over the soothing motion. “I’m so scared, Nino,” Adrien cried into Nino’s shoulder, his whole body shaking like an earthquake. “I don’t want to be capable of that. That I could be responsible for the destruction of the whole world?!”

“You’re not responsible for your akuma,” Nino objected harshly.

Adrien tore away from Nino’s embrace, though he immediately regretted it. His transformed claws tried to tear through his hair, but were met only with the smooth cap of the snake half of his transformation. “But like, it makes me afraid of my feelings, which then just sends me into more of a panic and probably more likely to get akumatized! Nino, I don’t know what to do!”

His breathing sped up again. It was too fast - like a car headed for a tight corner on a cliff when the brakes were out. Adrien being aware of it did nothing to help slow his breathing back down. He was going to pass out and then he wouldn’t be able to reset the timer, and Nino would know everything. And even though Ladybug had granted permission, if someone knowing his identity could bring on the apocalypse, how could he ever risk it?

And did that mean he would never be able to share his identity with anyone ? Not Ladybug? Not his friends? Not even a future partner?

“Dude! Breathe!”

Adrien tried, but he just kept hyperventilating.

Then the snake bracelet started beeping again, and his panic sky-rocketed. It was too soon. Five minutes just wasn’t enough time.

Nino glanced at it, and then gripped Adrien’s hand firmly. “Dude, breathe in with me okay?” Adrien locked onto Nino’s golden eyes and nodded. Nino took in a deep slow breath and Adrien followed suit. “And out.”

And they did this for three more breaths.

“I’m not going to remember this, am I?” Nino said.

“I’m sorry, Nino,” Adrien cried. “Can I have your permission to erase your memory all the time? I know it’s not a fair thing to ask.”

Nino tightened his grip. “As often and as many times as you need, dude. Don’t ever hesitate. And don’t leave here tonight until you’re okay, okay?”

Adrien cried harder. “You trust me that much?” He could almost understand it with Ladybug. They trusted each other in life and death situations on the regular, but Nino too?! Adrien didn’t know what he had done to earn such friends.

“Yeah, man. Of course.”

Chat clung to Nino harder. He had some amazing people in his life. “Second chance.”

And this time when Snake Noir is outside Nino’s window for the 28th time, he doesn’t go in. He lets himself just sit on the window sill focusing on getting his breathing under control while Nino stays lost in his music. Just being able to see him, calmed Adrien down.

By the 31st loop, Adrien is able to swing himself into the room without immediately tackling his friend from behind. But he makes a point of landing with a loud thump.

Nino jumped ten centimeters out of his chair. Adrien almost laughed. Almost.

“Chat Noir! Is there an akuma? Do you guys need Carapace?”

Every muscle in his body tensed. Shit . “You’re a temporary hero?”

Nino paled. “Oh no! I thought that was why you were here. It meant that you already knew! Ladybug is going to kill me!”

“Nino, it’s fine.” And he was confident that it was. His lady trusted him as much as Nino did. It was only her identity he couldn’t know. He knew most of them at this point. Now, it was just hers, the new Queen Bee, and Rena Rouge that he didn’t know. “I actually came for a different reason. A personal reason.”

“A… uh… personal reason?” his friend stuttered, his golden gaze glancing nervously towards the cat themed hero who had landed unexpectedly in Nino’s bedroom. “I don’t know how to say this, man, but I have a girlfriend. And yeah, you’re hot as hell-”

Adrien’s cheeks were on fire.

“-but I love her and I won’t cheat on her. Not even… with a superhero.”

Adrien shook his head rapidly with his hands up echoing the gesture. “I’m super flattered, Nino, but I was not here for a hookup either.”

“Oh… umm…” And now it was Nino who was super embarrassed, his hands fiddling with his headphones at his neck. “Then, how can I help you?”

“I… uh… just came to talk.”

“Talk,” Nino repeated flatly. “With me?”

“Well, you are my best friend,” Adrien said, and then just waited.

Nino’s face went through a comical flash of expressions so fast that Adrien couldn't identify any of them. “A-Adrien?!”

“Hi?”

Nino buried his face into his hands.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine, dude,” he mumbled. “Just embarrassed.”

“I said I was flattered.”

“I can’t believe I thought you were here to proposition me.”

“I mean, you do look pretty amazing in green,” Adrien teased, pulling out his most charming Chat Noir smile.

“Dude!” Nino objected, burying his face in his hands. “Please erase the last three minutes of my life.”

Adrien took pity on him. “That can be arranged.” He held up the bracelet on his wrist.

Nino wilted at the sight. “I’m not going to remember this?”

Adrien barked a genuine laugh. It felt good. “So you do want to remember, then?”

“Dumb shit should definitely be remembered,” Nino told him, but then turned serious. “So, if we’re on a timer, did you have something specific you wanted to talk about?”

Adrien shrugged and took a seat on Nino’s bed. “Ladybug told someone her identity when she was having a personal crisis. She suggested I do the same.”

“But then why don’t you want me to remember?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, looking for the words to explain. He didn’t have time for the whole Chat Blanc explanation and he definitely didn’t want to start crying and undo all the work Nino had managed to pull off in just a few hours even if he didn’t remember any of it. “I guess the identity rule has been drilled into my head so severely that it’s hard for me to break it?”

Nino grinned. “So you’re taking, like, baby steps!”

Adrien grinned. “Yes! Exactly! Testing it out.”

“It’s super cool that you’re Chat Noir! You have no idea how happy it makes me that you can escape your golden prison if you need to.”

The bracelet started beeping. “Whelp! It looks like my carriage is going to turn back into a pumpkin! Thank you, Nino.”

Nino smiled, and gave Adrien the head nod. “Anytime, mec. Anytime.”

“Second chance.”

Then Chat Noir was outside the open window again and Nino was once again lost in his world of music.

“One more time,” he told himself, launching himself over the window sill and into the room with the same loud thud.

“Chat Noir! Is there an akuma? Do you guys need Carapace?”

Snake Noir shook his head. “Not this time, Donashello. But your best bro needs ordinary Nino.”

Nino paled. “Did something happen to Adrien? Did his father hurt him? Does he need a place to stay? He can totally room with me if needed. I’ve already discussed it with my parents. They’re cool with it.”

“Y-you have?” Adrien stuttered, taken aback by how much Nino worried about him, but also apparently planned for him. And now Adrien’s eyes were burning once again underneath his mask, but for an entirely different reason.

Nino stood up and hovered awkwardly. “You okay, dude?”

“I’m fine, Nino.” Adrien managed a huge smile, and yanked Nino into a hug. Nino remained awkwardly limp in his arms. “I just didn’t realize you worried about me like this. You have it worked out with your parents that I can just... stay here? Like whenever?”

“A-Adrien?!”

“In the flesh!”

Nino finally enthusiastically returned his hug. “Dude! No way! You’re Chat Noir?!”

“The one and only!”

“This is so cool! And then Nino paled and pulled away. “Why are you telling me this now? I thought secret identities had to remain secret. Are you okay?”

“I’m doing a lot better thanks to you and the snake.”

Nino glanced at his altered transformation. “Oh. I’m not going to remember?”

Adrien wilted. “I wish I could tell you. Turns out knowing my identity specifically might be really dangerous.”

“I get it, dude. I’m a target of Hawkmoth, too.”

Chat frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Hawkmoth has made a copy of me twice now. Once as Nino and another as Bubbler.”

Chat Noir winced. Right, the Carapace sentimonster was Nino. “I hadn’t even thought about how you might feel about that. I’m sorry. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own head. What does it feel like to be impersonated?”

“It sucks. I worry that he’ll do it again. And that my friends and family will trust the imposter. And then become hostages or worse!”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do if Hawkmoth used my family against me like that.” And it felt good to be the one listening and supporting for once, even if Nino wouldn’t remember. “What can we do?”

Nino shrugged. “I don’t know man. Ladybug was able to catch my imposter because he didn’t interact with Alya the way I normally do.”

Adrien’s brain was whirling. He could definitely fix this - or at least mitigate it. He just needed to talk to Alya and she would get Nino set up with everyone in his life with some kind of password or something.

His bracelet beeped it’s first warning.

“Thank you, Nino.”

Nino’s eyebrows scrunched together in bafflement. “What for?”

“For tonight. We’ve actually gone through this same five minutes 32 times now.”

“Thirty-two?!” Nino repeated. “Dude! That’s like… what?”

“Almost three hours,” Adrien filled in. “I wasn’t in a great space when I got here the first time. That’s what I’m saying. You told me not to leave until I felt okay.”

Nino hugged him again. “I take it you’re doing better now?”

“Much better now. You talked me through the worst panic attack I’ve ever had, and then you made me laugh when you thought I was here to proposition you.”

“I did what ?”

“You thought I was here to sweep you off your feet!” Adrien teased.

Nino buried his face in his hands. “Please never tell me that I did that again.”

Chat barked a laugh. “Apparently, you think I’m hot as hell.”

“But you already knew that,” Nino argued.

“I didn’t, actually. But if it makes you feel better, I’m apparently no competition for one Alya Césaire. You would have turned me down cold.”

Nino laughed. “Oh man, I would get so many brownie points for turning down a superhero for her.”

“Either that, or she’d hit you upside the head for being an idiot.” The miraculous was now rapidly beeping. “I'm out of time. Thanks Nino, for talking me down tonight.”

Nino grinned. “Anytime, bro. Come by anytime. I mean it. Even if I won’t remember. Any time. ”

“Thanks man. I’ll totally take you up on that.”

...

Read Chapter Three

#Adrino Friendship #Miraculous Ladybug Fan fic #Hurt comfort #Adrien Agreste #Nino Lahiffe #angst #a bit of humor #friendship #time loops #snake miraculous #The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir #A Miraculous Reveal #My Own Content #ml spoilers #s4 spoilers

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Protective Service

John Wick x Reader (A/n-how is this like the second or third request that I’ve turned into a long ass series? Why does this keep happening? A/n2- I have zero medical knowledge, so hopefully the stuff I wrote makes at least the tiniest bit of sense.)

Masterlist Protective Service Masterlist

Warnings- Angst, the slightest hints of NSFW (teasing)

Chapter 9 Learning To Let Go

It was strange, John thought as he walked along the shore, his feet sinking into the soft sand and the chill of the salty wind breaking through his layers, the moment was unsettlingly familiar. It was the middle of fall and the water had started to grow colder as the evenings progressed, so they hadn't gone in, but still Helen had wanted to visit the beach one last time before winter descended upon New York. They'd spent the afternoon walking right past where the waves met the sand and she'd even collected a few colorful seashells that she thought would make the perfect keepsakes to pepper the shelves in their home. She hadn't gotten much though, and internally, John had noted that he should take her somewhere like Hawaii or Bora Bora on their next vacation, so she could get some nicer ones.

As he walked, he grew nearer to where Helen stood near his beloved car. She was smiling and for a moment it felt like it had been a while since he'd seen her smile, her beautiful smile. He'd missed it. Though, he was overly aware of the fact that he shouldn't have, considering John had seen it not more than fifteen minutes ago. The entire ordeal felt surreal.

As John approached her, he suddenly felt like something was missing, like he’d gone through the motions before though with one detail absent. “What’s wrong John?” Noticing his bewilderment, Helen broken is dismal thoughts.

“I….” John’s head snapped up to meet her worried gaze, those honey colored notes in her dark eyes standing out beautifully, “I don’t know,” finally he was standing next to Helen, leaning against the tailgate and instinctively taking his wife into his arms. “Something feels different.”

Helen nuzzled her head into his neck, wrapping her slender arms around his waist, “Well, that’s because everything’s different,” when he looked down at her, more confused than before, Helen knitted her brows, bringing her hand up so fragile fingers would ghost his bearded cheek, “Don’t you remember baby?”

“Hel……” He leaned into her touch, his breath hitching upon finding how cold it was, “I don’t understand,” John swallowed thickly; panic rising up as bile in his throat, “What’s going on?”

“You know John,” abruptly, Helen pulled away, detaching herself from his embrace and starting to walk away, “You know what you have to do.”

Immediately, he started following her, but despite his efforts, John couldn’t get any closer than within a couple feet, “No Helen, I don’t. What’s going on? Where are you going?” They walked and walked, but didn’t seem to be going anywhere, not really; the car never grew further away while the rocky formations in the distance never drew nearer.

Turning, she smiled wistfully, tilting her head to the side so her brown tresses would sweep over her shoulder, and for some reason unbeknownst to him, her little gesture brought tears to his eyes, “I’m already gone, John.”

And that was when he remembered.

She was already gone. Long gone. Helen, the first woman he’d ever loved, the woman who had brought light to his shadowy depths and stilled the storm that brewed within, was dead. John had watched her wither away; seen smiles through immense pain, seen as she got thinner with each passing day and finally, seen as she’d taken her last breaths as the doctors turned off the machines.

The memories had a stifled sob parting his lips and tears creeping out the corners of his eyes, “Helen…..” John pleaded, as if saying her name would breath her back to life. But it wouldn’t and John knew that all too well, “I miss you. I need you.”

“I know, but you don’t need me darling,” She kept her distance, and John ached to touch her, just one last time, even if it wouldn’t be near enough, “You’re doing so well; you’ve found happiness again. You just need to slow down and let yourself feel it.”

“What do you mean? With Y/n?” At the mention of her name, Helen’s eyes sparkled knowingly, not really in answer, but more so in permission. “I can’t do that to you Hel, she’s……she’s nothing like you.”

Her eyes were cast out to the boundless blue by then, and Helen seemed to let his words sink in before speaking again, “Isn’t that the best part?” There was now this hollowness in her voice, as if she were far away, “And you aren’t doing anything to me, I’m not here, remember.”

“You’re right in front of me,” his voice broke as he objected, knowing the truth but still having a hard time accepting it, “You right here,” reaching out, John’s eyes went wide as his fingers went right through her.

Helen’s expression fell at his pained look, though, the only heart that broke was his. “No, I’m not.” Quickly, she licked her lips as they formed a frown, “Not anymore. And you know that. But you’ve found someone that is, so don’t hold yourself back. Fight for her, the way you’ve fought for everything else. Let go, John,” for the first time in a while, she was just a breath away, though, her presence brought no warmth. And that was when he realized that the person that stood before him wasn’t even Helen, not really, it was a dream, a figment his mind had conjured up so he could finally have the closure he needed, hear from the first keeper of his heart that it was okay to give it away again.

“I can’t,” he whispered tearily, his hands hovered over her shoulders, knowing it would kill him if he tried to touch her again, only to be met with nothingness, “I don’t want to forget.”

Again, she was smiling, her confidence in him as vast as the sea washing their feet, “You won’t. I promise.”

He promised himself.

“You won’t forget. So stay John,” and just like that, as if she’d never been there, Helen, or at least, the image of her, was gone, evaporating before his very eyes.

“Stay John,” another voice pierced his mind, not coming from one place in particular, almost as if he were hearing it from all around, “I can’t lose you, so please stay.”

It had been a long time since Y/n had cried in the presence of another, though, she supposed it didn’t really count if the other person was unconscious. The doctor had told them that John wasn’t quite out of the woods, and he wouldn’t be until he’d woken up. Thankfully, he was still breathing on his own, waving the need for any specialized equipment. He wasn’t comatose either, but would definitely need time to recover from the blood loss.

All in all, most of it had been favorable news and the greying doctor had assured her that John was otherwise healthy, so there was no need for too much worrying, unless he developed a fever favoring infection or a clot that they hadn’t caught. Still though, Y/n worried anyway and past the hour where dawn awakened the darkened sky, she’d stayed at his bedside, maintaining a tight hold on his hand while her gaze was trained on his insensate from, hyper aware of his soft breaths and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest, a large bandage covering a section of his abdomen. There was an I.V hooked up, running to the hand that laid flat at his side, and the doctor had left a small variety of medicines to be administered whenever John awoke. She’d be there, she’d give them to him.

Winston and Charon had left shortly after the doctor had, encouraging her to come with them so she could get some rest, she’d been awake for nearly twenty uninterrupted hours by then, but Y/n had refused. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she was leaving John’s side. He’d almost lost his life protecting her, the least she could do was lose some sleep over him.

“Stay John,” the words were barely a whisper, breathed close to his ear and Y/n pressed her head to his, occasionally raising to lay the softest, most feather light of kisses to his forehead, carefully avoiding the bandage over his gash, “I can’t lose you, so please stay.” There was so much that she’d pushed down, ignored, in favor of not coming off as being vulnerable. But from the moment she’d seen him bleeding out on the ground, she’d instantly regretted it. He had to know, John deserved to know.

“Please stay,” Y/n repeated, tears hot on her cheeks and dripping onto John’s hair splayed out like a raven halo on the pristine white pillow. The words thoughtlessly tumbled out of her mouth, “You were right, I am selfish and I am so hurt that I don’t know how to do anything else but hurt other people,” borrowing against his cheek, Y/n sniffled noisily as she continued, “But you were wrong too,” painfully, she reminisced on the night two weeks ago when John accused her of not caring about anyone but herself, “I care about you, so, so much. You’ve made me feel things that I never have before, so how could I not?”

After a moment of hesitation, Y/n turned slightly to pressing a chaste peck to his cheek, feeling John’s scruff tickle her lips. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I want to make this right with you,” Y/n desperately tried to swallow the lump in her throat, barely able to put the thoughts into words, “This- you,” faltering, she corrected herself, “You, in the past few months, have meant more to me than anyone else ever has.”

Y/n wasn’t sure how long she’d spent talking to John, or by extension, how long they’d been there like that; the thick curtains had been pulled shut darkening the room. The heavy ticking of the clock for a long time had been the only sound accompanying her words, each shift signaling that another minute had passed with John’s recovery seeming further out of reach. Her eyes had started to burn while their lids felt heavy, but that didn’t stop Y/n from warding off sleep as she whispered formerly guarded secrets into his ear. It had been hours since they’d gotten to the Continental, but when she said that last thing, it seemed to finally stir something in John’s drifting consciousness, bringing him back to her. “I…..” his voice was raspy and John’s lips barely moved, “I can…..I can hear you.”

Springing into a straightened position, and Y/n lifted one of her hands from his, leaning forward to cup his face, the pad of her thumb grazing his cheek as hope illuminated her eyes. His were still closed, but Y/n could see his lashes fluttering; struggling to open as she could feel his fingers twitching ever so slightly. “John?” Huffing and suppressing a relieved, tender smile, “You can hear me? Do you want me to get the doctor? Do you need anything?”

“Just....” He didn’t seem like he’d completely regained control of himself, but it was enough to prove that John wasn’t too far gone, “Just stay.”

“The doctor said that you need to take these,” Y/n was standing at his bedside, still dressed in what she’d been wearing the day before, the blood stains on her navy colored blouson dress downplayed by the dark shade, shaking some pills out of two different bottles. He’d been awake and coherent for a couple hours by then, and graciously, Y/n had taken the time to help John sit up, stacking some pillows behind him for support.

Intently, he’d watched her, buzzing around the room and trying to stay busy but definitely not wanting to leave. John had heard everything she’d said after his lucid dream had dissipated; everything about how she cared and how much he meant to her, and he found that it was enough to vanquish any anger he’d harbored before then. Still though, he and Y/n hadn’t really spoken since he awoke, John wanted to though. They needed to. “Can we talk?” Even if she was actively avoiding his stare, John tried to angle his head to meet her eyes, wincing at the pain in his abdomen.

Finally, when she looked at him, it was to offer the medication with one hand and a glass of water with the other, “About?”

“About everything you said,” he explained matter-of-factly, trying to gauge some meaning from her unreadable expression.

For a minute, John was expecting Y/n to deflect brashly; offer some hasty line about how he’d heard wrong or that she was just saying something she didn’t mean. But the words never came, and instead, she just pushed her hands closer, “Take these first and then we’ll talk.”

“Blackmail?”

Quirking the slightest smirk, she rolled her eyes playfully, “Maybe.” Chuckling, John relieved her of both, swallowing the pills down with a few mouthfuls of water, letting Y/n take the glass and replace it on the nightstand before she sat. “Okay,” she sighed, pushing off her shoes with her toes, letting them fall to the floor with a couple of soft thuds as she curled one leg under herself. “I meant every bit of that,” her eyes softened, a genuine affectionate gleam in them, “I do care for you,” Y/n reached over, laying her small hand over one of John’s larger ones, “You……I shouldn’t have made you think otherwise, I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t feel the same.” She knew it wasn’t her place to expect much, not after the way things had gone between them, with her going hot and cold whenever she felt like it.

Studying her thoughtfully for a minute, John turned his hand over beneath her, the warmth of their palms radiating. “I do feel the same,” he reassured, “I guess you’re not completely to blame; I’ve been so worried that being with someone else would make me lose what I had with my wife. Like I’d be betraying her somehow. But I realize now that I wouldn’t be, that it's time to let her be a memory,” Gently, John gave Y/n’s hand a tug, urging her to come sit on the edge of the bed. When she was finally there, she leaned in, neither of them faltering before sharing a sweet, dare he say innocent, kiss. Like butterfly wings fluttering against each other. It was so untainted and free of any suggestive undertones, the kind of kiss that was meant to say, ‘I choose you.’ “Are you sure this is what you want?” John probed when they broke, his thumb roving the soft skin of Y/n’s knuckles.

Blinking quickly, she pulled away some more, briefly averting her gaze before meeting his eyes again, “I think so.” It was hardly a concrete answer, but coming from Y/n, it meant something, It was far more than indecision, it was the most she could give him; the shreds of herself that she could piece together and offer to him, while he did the same for her.

“Okay,” he nodded, daring to offer her the first glimmers of a grin, lacing his free hand in her messy tresses so John could pull her in again, “Good,” his lips sealed on hers again, that time deeper and with more passion.

Y/n scooted closer, her knee sinking into the mattress while she pressed her free hand to his chest; steadying herself. Tilting her head, she granted John greater access, intent on getting even closer until she made an uncalculated move; her thigh rubbing harshly against John’s bandage. He emitted a pained groan, jumping in surprise. “Shit,” she swore under her breath, looking between them to ensure that he wasn’t bleeding, “Maybe this isn’t the best time,” she giggled sheepishly, pulling away from John and moving to stand, undoing the silk knot on her dress as she sashayed away, “We’ll have to take a rain check.”

“Right…..” John was far too busy staring as Y/n undressed to pay attention to the words leaving her lips. Even before their short time together in the kitchen, he’d found himself envisioning the way she’d looked undressed; all supple, unblemished skin, smooth curves that were made to look small in his large hands and perfectly delectable with her pert breasts and perfect ass. That time, the sound contained in his throat wasn’t one of agony, “What are you doing?" He smirked as she tossed her bra to the side, hooking her thumbs in the waist of her panties next.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, snatching up a towel from nearby as she sauntered towards the bathroom door, throwing him a taunting backwards glance. It was alarmingly clear that the mood had shifted, and John was all for it.

"Need some help?" He inquired, not even thinking of his injuries.

Wrapping the towel around herself and effectively depriving John of the salacious view, Y/n turned, leaning on the door frame, "As fun as that sounds, you're not supposed to get that wet," she nodded to the bandage on his left side, "And you should get some rest. But I promise, when I'm done, I'll help you clean up real good," and with a wink and a giggle laced with mirth, Y/n spun on her heel, leaving John in heady anticipation.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keau reeves #John wick #John wick x reader #john wick x you #John Wick x y/n #keanu reeves x y/n #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #john wick fanfic #keanu reeves fanfic #ff #protective service

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years ago

Text

The Pink Pearl

Kanene’s Notes:

Soooo... I needed to improve my action scenes. And then this fanfic was born! :D)/

It has pirates and ghosts and pirate ghosts! :DD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic was a bit inspired on that fabulous video right here.

* Contains: Angst, Cursing, Hypnosis, Implied death, Clear description of bein hypnotized, clear description of a ship burning to the ground, Hur/Comfort, Mild Comfort, Mystical beings, Magic, Happy ending, Hopeful Ending.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to Thomas Sanders.

* Something around 3.500 words. -w-)b.

* You can also find this fic on AO3.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading! Eat a snack, rest, watch that favorite movie you have been wanting to see again, take care and drink water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

“I need help.” He tried to not grimace with how the words dried even further his hurt throat as they left his lips, shivering when a sudden breeze from night’s cold froze the sweat on his skin. Remy - at least that was what he said his name was, but trusting in a pirate word could lead you to not so pleasant storms - snorted, moving his cuffs and pressing their backs closer.

“Yeah, no shit.” His voice was raspy, tired, and not for the first time Emile wondered for how long he had been there, since his presence was already a constant when the amateur sailor’s boat had been plundered and he got captured, thrown on the darkest part of the ship and finding his company.

“That makes two of us.” The last part came out as a bitter whisper.

A peaceful wave hit the hull, making the ship stumble and rock under the moonlight that gazed pieces of their skin through a few cracks in the highest woods.

“No. I mean, yes, but…” Emile sighed deeply, tired awareness washing over him as the sailor realized the full extent of his next words. He rested his head on Remy’s shoulder, a move which led the other to untense his muscles and be more open to conversations.

They didn’t have much more time before the moon hit its highest spot in the sky and Emile wasn’t sure if they would make it to another full moon. Remy could only distract the crew so much. “I need your golden necklace.”

The other stiffed, breath hitching, stiff pose. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” Calm voice, free of any accusation, his brown eyes stared at the ‘ceiling’ picturing stars and constellations and the unstable clouds and how it feels when the salty breeze hit his skin freely. “I know it’s probably an important possession for you given how long you’ve been hiding it, and I’m really sorry I am asking for it but we really need a good offering.”

“Are you going to beg Neptune to save us?” Sound of fabric being ripped, the metal’s clicking making itself known. “He has islands and ships of gold being given to him right now, goldenfish. This may be a preciosity, but isn’t that worth it.”

Goldenfish: Breakable; Pirates who didn’t experience the true nightmares of surviving in the ocean; Naive; Fragile;

“If I’m going to go in a shit way, at least let a captain die with the last of his treasures.” His voice choked in the middle of the sentence, but both pretended to not notice it.

Emile felt dread fill his stomach, tightly closing his eyes as tears pricked their corners. Their captors never held their tongue, always discussing all their possibilities to get rid of their prisoners during parties and meetings on the main deck, voices loud enough to be heard by them both. Besides, the sailor was sure the crew wouldn’t stop themselves from making morbid remarks whenever Remy was called to ‘amuse’ them, even though the other refused to say anything to him when he was back, playing it off with some sarcastic sentences and ironic expressions.

(Emile attempted to be interesting one time, trying to pry their attention from Remy at all costs. His light-hearted efforts and humored puns were rewarded with nasty bruises and more chores to deal with. There were no sarcastic phrases that day.)

Still… It was the first time they talked about it out loud. Ignoring their eventful end made things more forgettable, easier to look away. But, now Emile was sure he wasn’t the only one sensing the impatience clouding and suffocating the air around them as the days went by.

Emile wished they had more time. “We’re not going to die and I’m not going to pray to Neptune. Not today.” Remy scoffed, yet listening. “I have a pink pearl with me, it can…” His sentence trailed off, his tired mind trying to find an easy way to explain his family situation. “Some spirits own me a favor.”

Emile had seen Remy’s eyes when he was dragged, barely conscious, to his prison for the first time. They were black and deep like the bottom of the Ocean, full of untold beauties and unseen mysteries. He could almost feel their glare on him.

“Do your spirits happen to be friends with the sea nymphs? The Thunder Damsels? Because that is the only fucking way we’re getting out of this.”

“They can help.” Emile stayed firm, trying to buckle their conversation out the way it was heading.

“Because…?”

“Remy, we don’t have much more time, please, give me the necklace.”

“Oh, of course, I am sorry for trying to know who my last possession is going to. What a bitch, am I right? Wait! Thinking better about it, why don’t we go up there and ask for the crew to help us? They’re full of gold, too!” He hissed. Because he couldn’t even shout out his irritation. Because it has been days since he last slept due his haunting nightmares, but the possibility of this being a dream freezes his blood and tights his throat. Because Emile’s hope was beginning to make its way to his soul and he knew how dangerous that could be.

“Ghosts, ok?! They are ghosts!”

Remy stared the wall in disbelief, seconds passing by. Emile closed his eyes.

“My stars, are you trusting our lives to haunting ghosts?” He barked a laugh, despair and astonishment dripping from his words.

But Emile didn’t laugh, seeming to shrink behind him.

So, Remy stopped, convincing himself that it was because of the coughing fit that hit him, molesting his dry throat, and not the soft heart he so fiercely denied to have.

Someone dropped a cup on the upper floor, curses immediately following suit. The sound made them both jump a few inches in the air, unable to stop the squirming, the shivering. The other’s whisper cut the silence.

“If you can’t trust me now, I don’t know when you will.”

Remy sighs, pressing their backs closer and lightly elbowing his ribs.

“Drop the pout, starfish.” As he got up, his chained hands maneuvered to grab his necklace from the hidden pocket on his boot, dropping it on the cold floor and carefully pushing it in Emile’s direction. “If this doesn’t work, I’m getting you back later.”

“Thank you.” The sailor’s smile only increased as Remy scoffed. Although, he didn’t have too much time to rest in the warm feeling blooming on his chest, quickly getting the pearl from his own hidden place. He gathered the two objects on his hands before sitting in front of a small hole he opened on the lower part of their cell, a glimpse of the ocean shining behind it.

Deep breaths. Ok. He could do this.

The well known chant sea flew from his mouth. It sounded like sunny afternoons and picnics, and nights embraced on the dimming dark, and soft hugs, and loud laughter with the feeling of freedom and dances around a wooden, crowned table. It was melodious, it was memories and his last shout of hope. His energy, his gratitude, his fear, his last chance, his last treasure, everything was offered.

The objects fell from his palms and were engulfed by the deep, incessant waves.

For a moment nothing happened and Remy regretted all his life choices, a not new habit of his, however at least this time he had a different reason, especially as Emile continued the tunes of that old song, apparently unfazed by the clear failure of his attempt.

Then Remy realized.

Besides his voice there was…quiet.

A life dedicated to explore and navigate the seven seas could be a lot of things. I could be dangerous, it could be difficult, lonely, adventurous, memorable, exhausting and even boring. But never quiet. There was always something. Always the melody of the waves carrying your ship, the wind slapping the sails, the mermaids whispering in your ears, a curse daunting your dreams… Silence could be present, but not for long and never as absolute.

But now…?

Now everything was quiet.

And that made a run shiver run across his spine, muscles tenses, instincts shouting. “Emile?”

The sailor didn’t respond, didn’t even stir as the temperature turned unbearably colder.

“Emile,” His dark eyes widened as his breath became visible in the air. “Emile, stop singing!”

“I already did.” He whispered, his stranger soft voice muffled, with something missing.

The ex captain noticed the truth behind his words as he concentrated. His senses could notice the melody coming from nowhere specific, echoing on the walls in a steady, patient pace.

A soft high pitched giggle cut the song. And, no, Remy did not shriek. Shut up.

“They’re here.” Emile’s voice was filled with something he couldn’t quite place, nor did have time as, in the middle of the room, a silhouette started to form, trembling and bending the light around it.

[...]

Aaron didn’t believe a lot of things, which, in itself, doesn’t mean that the amount of things he did believe was in any way whimsy.

Actually, he considered himself a very rational, plain figure. He believed in what he saw, touched and experienced. That is why he was on the nocturn security duty. His mind wasn’t easily fooled and his instincts were something he had plenty of capacity to control.

He prided himself on the moments of dinner and drinking, the hours of dawn when the crew would be a tad too drunk, playing and saying that, if any day Aaron stumbled on the feathered singer - because even on the fog of the rum, they knew best than say the name of the creatures out loud and pull bad luck onto their travel - he would be controlled enough to laugh at them, spit some curses and them navigate away while appreciating their nice melody in the background.

That was the memory which clawed on him as the mist involved the masts, swirling in a calm manner to the wooden floor, a whispering beginning to take over his eardrums. It was a song that made his bones ache and muscles tremble. He closed his hands on fists, nails tearing the epidermis to stay firm.

Even when a not-quite red, not-quite translucid figure appeared four feet away from him. Sitting in front a mesmerizing pitfire, carefully rocking the silver liquid in the golden chalice held firmly by his fingers, his lips parted, the chant pouring from them.

And the fire? The fire danced under his control, at each musical note it contorted and expanded, inch by inch, flame by flame. It got higher, vivid, swirling wound the translucid form who extended his hand and let the element run freely across his palm, petting it as if it was a domesticate, harmless animal.

The calm melody hit its climax, the high, vibrant note was prolonged, taking over the air, stealing all the attention and all the oxygen from the viewer.

He got up and the flames continued to travel from his hands through his body, burning his clothes which dissolved in brilliant ashes and left behind a gleaming trail of a completely new vestment being formed.

Under Aaron’s – mesmerized – attentive gaze long crimson sleeves involved his arms, crawling across his shoulders and leading the way to his chest, a warm white fabric shining under the moonlight, the fervent grooves that cut it in the form of limpid waves flowed through the petticoat from the gorgeous dress from the figure that couldn’t be named as translucid, anymore.

The song stopped.

The flames, much higher, much larger, raised like curtains behind the mysterious being, and his scarlet screaming eyes focused on Aaron, stealing his oxygen, again, and demanding – commanding him to show - every slight drop of his attention. His lips parted, one more time.

The song was back.

And he began to dance.

The fire accompanied the synchronized movements of his arms, also performing its own dance on the ship, spreading across the floor on the rhythm of his footsteps, sliding from the vestment’s veils and taking over all the space, climbing the ratlines, burning the masts, consuming the emergency boars and dancing together with the red figure and his frenetic melody, which overflowed and inundated everything around, attacking and drowning Aaron, who didn’t allowed his glare to deviated from the moves before him for one single second, all the others things being forgotten.

Beautiful. Everything was beautiful.

“And wouldn’t it be even more if you could dance with him?” A velvety voice – that wasn’t his – whispered on his mind in golden shades.

“Yes…” Aaron answered, hoarse. When did his throat get so dried like this? Why didn’t he realize it sooner? Why wasn't the oxygen coming back?

“Then go.” The gold thought was fast in cutting his line of thinking, leading him to focus one more time on the figure in front of him. “He will love to guide you through the steps.”

And Aaron agreed quickly, wondering how the other’s hands would feel under his touch. If they would be cold for his previous translucent state or hot just as the fire that accompanied him. He questioned himself if the flames would follow his pace, dancing with him, as well. He wanted. He wanted to be so beautiful like this. Maybe if he controlled the fire, maybe if he showed himself so skilled like this the being before him, he would be the one mesmerized. He would be the one to bow and to ask him for a dance.

He got closer and closer from the fire, extending his hand, about to pet it.

Perhaps…

A splitting pain spread like an explosion through the length of his arm and Aaron moved away with a scream, tears falling from his eyes with the painfully beat of his burned hand capturing all his senses, the song and dance disappearing from his mind.

And suddenly the frightened screams filled his eardrums. Sounds of pleas for help, of kicks and punches and wood crackling smacking him in an only one hit that destabilize the pirate, leaving him coughing and gasping and loud, so LOUD-

His eyes widened. Hot. Hot. Everything was burning. He was burning.

He wanted to scream. His throat was dry, but he needed to scream, needed to warn everyone, needed to-

“Rest.” The calm, velvety voice came back to his mind, offering peace, a safe space to where he could flee.

(An illusion made especially for him.)

However, he couldn’t. Everything was hot and burning and it shouldn’t be like that. He knew it shouldn’t be like that. This wasn’t normal. Wasn’t good. Screams. He also needed to scream. Because he was hot and the ship was hot and he was-

“-With a fever. You’re burning from sickness. Just a small fever isn’t something worth waking and alerting the others, right? You’re so clever, so strong, you sure can manage to ignore such futile, delirious dream alone. Maybe the rest of the crew wouldn’t be able to, but you’re braver. No one can ever fool you.”

Yes. This was true. He was intelligent, reasonable. That is why they always choose him to be on the night duty, because no one could do a better job than him.

A very known song begins to ask for his attention, one more time.

He can do it. He knows how to take care of the danger, so-

“-so there is no reason to worry, because there isn’t any danger here. It’s just a dream. A beautiful dream.”

His eyes rise and meet again with the dancer. Beautiful. So beautiful.

“Yes. That is true. Then why don’t you just relax and enjoy your wonderful, special dream?” The yellowish, velvet aura involves his body and suddenly the hotness stops to bother him, just like the ship dismantling in flames and the screams of help of the pirates locked on their rooms, terrified by the illusions taking form and life in the middle of the darkness.

The red eyes, for a second, focused on something behind Aaron, smiling, before finally sticking on his, the smile still on his expression as his hand went in his direction and rested on his forehead, a melodious tune following his acts.

“Sleep and dance on your dreams.”

And then everything disappeared in soot and ebano.

[...]

“Oh my stars!! Martin! It’s been so long!” Émile controlled himself to not laugh at Remy’s astonished expression – even if the shorter tried to hide it in a nonchalant behavior, - which proved itself to be simpler when the sky-blue ghost dashed until they were face to face, squeezing his cheeks and alternating between smiling at him and frowning at the number of old and new bruises that covered his skin. “You’re so tall now!! You kiddos grow up so fast!! Do these hurt? No worries! Roman, Remus and Janus are taking care of everything so we will be able to properly take care of you and your friend in a bit, okay? It’s been so much time since they saw you! I bet they also can’t wait to hear all the news!”

Picani stared deep into that shiny gaze, couldn’t help himself but smile back at Patton, a faint, almost erased memory of the blue figure helping him and his grandpa to make cookies in one of the docks they used to visit, they all whistling happily the known melody shining on the back of his mind. The memory was blurred, mostly consisting in laughter, songs and a warm feeling.

“Pat,” he gulped, mindless playing with the chains that locked his wrists on the walls of the cell, a frown in his face. Patton lightly hit the side of his own head, dislodging a bit his glasses’ frame, letting go of his face and heading to the keys poorly hanging on a rusty nail on the other side of the room.

(A constant reminder from the others of the freedom they could achieve if they only would be able to research the keys…)

“That is right, that is right!” He carried a happy aura on his steps, floating to them in a fast pace, unlocking their cell, kindly glancing at him and Remy, who eyed him for a few seconds before having his attention claimed by smoke descending from the cracks on their ceiling. “We should probably be heading out here just now!”

“Pat,” Emile tried again, holding his hand when the ghost freed him, ignoring the goosebumps running across his arms in a protest about the coldness of the other’s skin. His tune was careful. “I am Emile. Emile Picani. My dad gave me the pearl.” Patton’s smile faltered, a glint of understanding and something else taking over the gleam on his eyes. “It’s been twenty three years.”

“Oh,” he muttered, squeezing his hands back, eyes looking for something in his gaze. Something Emile couldn’t quite place. “oh, kiddo… I am sorry.”

Emile gave him a kind, sad smile.

“Me too.”

“You really grew up fast, didn’t you, kiddo?” Remy deviated his eyes from the scene, partly because the feeling of twist on his guts meant that he was probably intruding on a private moment and partly because his attention was again held by the sudden, growing hotness which didn’t cease to expand across the entirety of the ship. Muffled screams coming from all the places and nowhere at the same time. His body started to get absurdly antsy with adrenaline, sweat dripping from his forehead.

A flaming part of the ceiling fell in the middle of their cell, jolting the two from their conversation, the blue ghost blinking a few times at the flames.

“Ah.” He speeded his pace to free them from their cell, smoke and soot starting to paint and took over the air. “Well, guess this is our clue to get going!! Come on, come on! This way!”

“Fucking heck finally.” Remy only didn’t shout his displeasure due how hurt his throat was, however he made it sure his voice wasn’t low enough so the others wouldn’t be able to notice, even though none of them opted to point his reaction, deciding instead to nearly dash through the doors and stairs of the ship until finally arrive at the handrails, ignoring the way flames danced and deviated from them, a red figure smiling brightly at Patton’s direction when he waved, yellow eyes from another golden person staring them as if he could read their souls.

Remy ignored both as another ship arrived, medium size, well conserved and barely noticeable, his eyes feeling the urge to look at everywhere except it every time he tried to concentrate his efforts to capture all the details, but he kept himself firm, noticing how it doesn’t own any visible treasure, the only thing more catching being the navy fog covering all its extent, flowing in abundance from the form in the main deck, his hands moving with precise, fast gestures.

A dark purple ghost popped from absolutely nothing in front of them, inquisitive, wary glare.

Remy narrowed his eyes back, his guts screaming to not trust the wooden board thrown at their current position, making a not very secure path from one ship to another. The purple being smirked at his expression.

“V! We’re back.”

“Good. The princey and the snake right there are almost over and Logan is growing restless. Remus is already on his room, resting.” His face lost its softness when he stared right back at the humans. “Get in. Fast.”

Emile nodded, wanting nothing more than to leave this nightmare and maybe get a good night of sleep, but his arm was held in a warm, firm – yet gentle – grip.

“Is that bitch even safe?”

V’s smirk grew. “Define ‘safe’.”

“Things that I can touch and embark without fucking dying.”

“Death is inevitable,” the purple – V, as it seems, looked smug with his words, - any choice is just a pathway to this end.”

“I’m going to fucking show him the pathway.”

“Remy, please no.” Emile sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Think I can’t punch a motherfucker ghost? Fight me.”

“I know you can’t. Bring it on.”

“Virgil.”

“Remy.”

Patton and Emile said at the same time, with the same hard tone that made both of them deflate in a very similar way, still glaring dangerously at each other, but clearly putting more physical space between them. Emile patted the ex-captain hands, warm eyes.

“Can you go first so I can hold on your cape? My balance is not very good.” Because he realized, somewhat, how he was trembling and that holding him was the one thing assuring Remy that none of this was just another crazy dream.

He gulped, then nodded, his usual snarky remark already falling.

“If I die, no offer will get me out of your back.”

“Noted.” The sailor replied, chuckling lowly.

And then they both walked to their first of many future nights, after so many tears and tears, of being able to watch the stars and feel the sea’s breeze.

Safe.

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Text

Just A Babysitter.(Part Seven.)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: major character death, blood imagery, alcohol use

Context: (Y/n) is left alone at the cave whilst the boys go to avenge Marko's death, but she has a horrible surprise coming her way.

A/N: I changed my mind about this being the last part as it is just too long to be left as it is, so there is another part which will most likely come out later today.

Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five , Part Six , Part Eight

Masterlist.

My joints have finally gone numb by the time the sun has set, the ache of sitting on the cold hard floor for hours on end eventually fading away as I continue to ignore it, my mind still preoccupied with more serious matters, like the dead vampire lying with his lifeless head in my lap. Dried blood crusts my clothes and skin, the sensation uncomfortable but also unnoticed as I smooth my fingers over the mess of blonde curls atop Marko's limp head, my eyes never leaving his glassy, blank ones, my tears having dried some time ago, one hand holding onto the patched jacket he's always worn, the fabric stained and grimy now from the crimson liquid gathering around the hole in his chest. At some point, I'd taken the stake out of his chest, the crude piece of wood sliding out of the cold flesh with ease, another rush of blood accompanying it as I threw the makeshift weapon across the room, barely registering as it clatters to the ground a little way away. Since then, I've barely moved, my back muscles cramping from the crooked position I've settled into, the pain seeping away as time goes on, the chill of the cave stiffening my joints considerably.

It takes a hand placed on my shoulder to finally shake me from my trance, the appendage belonging to a concerned and grief stricken Dwayne, the tall vampire giving me a reassuring look as he crouches to my level, moving to pull my body into his, wrapping his arms around my rigid form briefly before he joins David and Paul, flying from the dark cave with incredible speed, all three of them riled up and ready to do anything to avenge their fallen friend. If I could, I'd join them.

After they've left, I stay where I am, my energy dwindling as I fight to stay awake, having done so all day, my body finally forcing itself to rest. Grudgingly, I decide to give in to the urge, knowing there's nothing I can do but wait for them to return, laying myself down beside the body of my friend, ignoring the icy chill that seeps into me from the hard ground beneath me, the rock not making a particularly comfortable surface to sleep on. Resting my head on my hands, I tuck my knees into my chest and curl up into myself as best as I can, closing my eyes with the intention of falling asleep.

Nightmares plague my fitful sleep, visions of the rest of the boys, as well as Marko, all bloodied and wounded harassing my subconscious as it tries to rest, my eyes unable to open and tear themselves away from the horrifying scenes in my head as I writhe about. In each dream, I try to help them, to save them from the same fate that Marko has received, but each time I am unsuccessful, my mind conjuring up vivid images of David, Dwayne and Paul as they gasp for life, blood spilling from their lips, eyes flashing as they slowly fade into a deathly blankness, skin paling from the lack of life coursing underneath it. Fear soaks into my conscience, rooting itself into my very being as it tries to grasp the idea of living without the family who has cared for me for so long, protecting me when my biological family could (would) not, providing me with the best life I could ever have hoped for. Somehow, tears manage to force themselves out of my eyes, wetting my cheeks once more, though I don't realise this until I come to again a long while later.

My eyes crack open, eyelashes sticking together from the salty tears that have dampened my skin, a deep chill settling into my muscles from the air around me, reawakening the pain in my joints from before. I move to get up, stretching out my limbs and back as I go, wincing as I hear several audible cracks as my bones realign themselves, my movements stiff and slightly uncoordinated from the lack of change in my position, a pounding headache starting to set in from how dehydrated I've become. In my head, I know I should get up and get something to drink, or to eat, or I'll really suffer later, my body already protesting against my abstinence. Groaning, I force myself to my feet, giving Marko one last look as I go, still trying to come to terms with the fact that he's gone and won't wake up in a minute to take me for a ride on his motorcycle, or have a race to the Chinese takeaway shop, where we'd undoubtedly steal the food we've been given.

Another wave of grief washes over me, but I choke it down before I fall back to my knees, instead going to the entrance of the room, aiming to get to my room where I know there is food and drink, something I've made sure to keep in the cave just in case. It takes me longer than normal to emerge back into the darkened expanse of the sunken hotel, no light coming in from the outside, proving to me that it is still night, even if it is early in the morning, the icy air surrounding me feeling unwelcoming for the first time in four years, making me shiver uncomfortably as I duck into my own room, my clothes too thin to be a suitable covering. As I enter, I make the decision to change my clothes completely, needing to part with the bloodied shirt and jeans I was wearing the night before.

Changing into another band shirt and dark grey jeans, I pull on my leather jacket before grabbing the bottle of water and tin of cookies from under my bed, taking the remaining whiskey from five nights ago as well after a second, craving the strong burning alcohol to reawaken my numbed mind. Sitting on the bed, I open the water and take a deep drink from it, relishing the sensation of the liquid flowing down my dry, raw throat, my body relieved to finally receive hydration. I follow this with a good few cookies, not really enjoying them too much but needing the food desperately, as well as a swig of whiskey to wash it down, wincing as the fiery drink burns the insides of my throat, feeling warmer a minute or so after it's settled into my stomach. I repeat these motions a few times before I become aware of something: voices floating in from the front of the cave, and not friendly ones, either.

A low growl leaves my lips as I make out Michael's voice amongst them, anger and fury igniting inside me alongside the confusion; what the hell is he doing back here, alive? Putting aside the alcohol, water and cookies, I edge closer to the doorway, staying out of sight as much as possible, straining to hear what is being said, yet more confusion rising in me as I hear sounds that I'd associate with dragging heavy objects across the floor.

"...should we leave them here? In the middle? Or should we move them back into one of the inside rooms?" Michael asks his companion, or companions, voice breaking off every few seconds from the strain of carrying a heavy weight.

"Let's just leave them here. They won't mind." A gruff voice I recognise from the day before answers, an agreement rising from another who sounds very similar. The two kids with stakes.

"What about (Y/n)? What should we do about her?" This time it's Star's voice, the sound cutting deeper than the others, a stronger sense of betrayal flaring up in me as I try to keep myself quiet, not quite believing what I'm hearing.

"I hadn't thought about that. Should we find her?" Michael muses, the sound of something dropping echoing around the room, three others joining the first.

The others are silent, the two kids obviously having no idea who I am, Star seemingly considering what to say.

"No, I don't think that'll be entirely safe. She has a tendency to react rashly to things like this. I'm surprised she didn't do anything earlier." The girl responds, voice decisive, "I really do feel bad for her, though."

"You do? Why?" One of the kids asks sounding disgusted by the idea.

"Because they were her only family, and she was close with all of them. She'll really suffer."

What does she mean, they were my only family? They are my only family. A small voice in my head starts to tell me something, but I refuse to listen to it, unwilling to even consider what she is implying.

"I know, I feel bad, too. Maybe we can come again tomorrow night and speak to her? She could come live with us." Michael suggests, drawing a silent scoff from me at his stupidity. What makes him think I'd live with someone like him?

"I really don't think she'd accept the offer, but we can only try." Star responds, sounding unsure of herself, her voice getting quieter as they seem to leave the room, eventually cutting out completely when they get far away enough. I wait another five minutes before venturing out again, finding the braziers lit, the flickering flames throwing shadows and light everywhere. What I see in the centre of the room, beside the fountain, makes me stop, my heart nearly seizing as I catch sight of them. I can barely move, my eyes remaining fixed on the object of my horror, disbelief initially filling me until grief replaces it, my mind drowning in it once more as I finally find the ability to move, my legs taking me over to them. Lying on the floor are four bodies.

One is horribly familiar, two barely recognisable, the fourth unfamiliar to me.

A strangled sob leaves my lips as I collapse to the floor beside David's corpse, the blonde vampire's features pale and drawn in their deathly state, his muscles limp and lifeless under my hands as I grasp at his chest, unwilling to believe that what I'm seeing is real.

"No, no, no! This can't be happening, please tell me this isn't real! No, please, wake up, David, please, wake up! You can't be dead! You can't all be dead! No, no, no!" I all but scream out, tears exploding out onto my cheeks as I frantically look for signs of life, taking in the two other bodies to his right. One is nothing but a skeleton, and the other is a mangled mess of blood and torn flesh, but they are still known to me: the skeleton is still wearing the bracelet I gave him the night before, and the leather jacket under all the gore is unmistakable. Paul and Dwayne, both dead.

"Please wake up, David! Tell me this is fake, that this isn't happening! I can't be alone, not again! Please, don't leave me alone!" I cry out to them, eyesight blurry from the tears pouring out of them, my body heaving as sobs rip themselves from me, my head falling to David's chest, ignoring the dried blood coating his shirt, as well as the rigidity that his death has brought to him. Grief and despair once again assault my mind, tearing me from the numbed state I was in before, my throat quickly becoming raw as I continue to plead with no one in particular, wishing the vampires would just sit up as they were before and reassure me. As it is, I'm left with the dead members of my family with no one to comfort me, my body nearly wrung dry from all the tears I've cried in the past twelve hours, my only companions the corpses lying around me.

I remain there for what feels like hours, but what is in fact only one, until I notice something: the first rays of sunlight coming in from the entrance. Slowly but surely, they edge closer to the corpese on the floor, the unfamiliar one remaining in shadow as it is protected by the water fountain. As the first ray reaches the skeletal remains of Paul, the discouloured bones immediately catch fire, orange flames engulfing the body of my friend in seconds, my eyes fixed on them with horror, until I jump into action, wrapping my arms around David's torso as I start to drag him towards the shadows, my body weak from the lack of movement it has done, guilt and anguish racing through me as I watch the rays catch Dwayne's mangled remains, too, greedy flames instantly bursting into life as they do so, the sunlight only continuing on in its destructive path, creeping ever closer to David's feet. My muscles scream at me as I fight to pull the heavy body out of harms way, my strength nearly failing me multiple times, my feet slipping on the floor slightly.

Thankfully, I manage to drag David into the darkness of my room in time, the corpse remaining untouched by the sun even as the other two are consumed by the fires it has produced. I can only watch as they burn, tears streaming down my face at the sight, the overwhelming grief pushing me to my knees as I finally give up, a strangled, agonized scream ripping from my throat as I curl up into a ball, consumed by sorrow and despair, the loneliness I haven't felt in years crashing over me once again, reminding me of the night they found me, my body beaten and broken by the side of the road, my parents having finally kicked me out, a thirteen year old with no where to go. They'd taken me in, caring for me as much as they can, giving me a better life than I could ever have hoped for, replacing the hole in my heart where a family should've been. Old wounds have been reopened, bleeding grief back into my system as they once had when they were new, the pain just as crippling as before, if not, more so.

Eventually, I feel black spots start to appear at the edges of my vision, slowly advancing until I can't see any more, my body relaxing into unconsciousness, the emotions finally becoming too much for my mind to handle. Almost in relief, I allow myself to give in to the urge, falling deeply into a state of unconsciousness as I collapse beside the corpse of David, the truly dead leader of a murdered coven of vampires.

#joel schumacher #the lost boys #vampire #david(thelostboys)#paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#kiefer sutherland #marko(the lost boys)#santa carla #star(the lost boys)#laddie(the lost boys)#blood #death #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys imagines

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vajranam · 4 years ago

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How To Use Your Dharma Practice

A s regards the method of acquiring practical spiritual knowledge, if you find a certain practice increases your evil passions and tends you toward selfishness, abandon it, though it may appear to others virtuous. And if any course of action tends to counteract your evil passions, and to benefit sentient beings, know that to be the true and holy path, and continue it, even though it should appear to others to be sinful.

Milarepa

A dharma practice is here to help us to realise our true nature of mind, but the most important part of dharma practice is capture and cancel our ego clinging.

We also confuse Dharma the teaching and Dharma practice, without the teachings we wont be able to practice the dharma

The 37 Bodhisattvas practice explain us how we need to turn our mind to the teaching.

Namo Lokesvaraya

You who see that experience has no coming or going,

Yet pour your energy solely into helping beings,

My excellent teachers and Lord All Seeing,

I humbly and constantly honor with my body, speech, and mind.

The fully awake, the buddhas, source of joy and well-being,

All come from integrating the noble Way.

Because integration depends on your knowing how to practice,

I will explain the practice of all bodhisattvas.

Right now, you have a good boat, fully equipped and available — hard to find.

To free others and you from the sea of samsara,

Day and night, fully alert and present,

Study, reflect, and meditate — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Attraction to those close to you catches you in its currents;

Aversion to those who oppose you burns inside;

Indifference that ignores what needs to be done is a black hole.

Leave your homeland — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Don’t engage disturbances and reactive emotions gradually fade away;

Don’t engage distractions and spiritual practice naturally grows;

Keep awareness clear and vivid and confidence in the way arises.

Rely on silence — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

You will separate from long-time friends and relatives;

You will leave behind the wealth you worked to build up;

The guest, your consciousness, will move from the inn, your body.

Forget the conventional concerns — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

With some friends, the three poisons keep growing,

Study, reflection, and meditation weaken,

And loving kindness and compassion fall away.

Give up bad friends — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

With some teachers, your shortcomings fade away and

Abilities grow like the waxing moon.

Hold such teachers dear to you,

Dearer than your own body — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Locked up in the prison of their own patterning

Whom can ordinary gods protect?

Who can you count on for refuge?

Go for refuge in the Three Jewels — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

The suffering in the lower realms is really hard to endure.

The Sage says it is the result of destructive actions.

For that reason, even if your life is at risk,

Don’t engage in destructive actions — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

The happiness of the three worlds disappears in a moment,

Like a dewdrop on a blade of grass.

The highest level of freedom is one that never changes.

Aim for this — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

If all your mothers, who love you,

Suffer for time without beginning, how can you be happy?

To free limitless sentient beings,

Give rise to awakening mind — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

All suffering comes from wanting your own happiness.

Complete awakening arises from the intention to help others.

So, exchange completely your happiness

For the suffering of others — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Even if someone, driven by desperate want,

Steals, or makes someone else steal, everything you own,

Dedicate to him your body, your wealth, and

All the good you’ve ever done or will do — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Even if you have done nothing wrong at all

And someone still tries to take your head off,

Spurred by compassion,

Take all his or her evil into you — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Even if someone broadcasts to the whole universe

Slanderous and ugly rumors about you,

In return, with an open and caring heart,

Praise his or her abilities — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Even if someone humiliates you and denounces you

In front of a crowd of people,

Think of this person as your teacher

And humbly honor him — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Even if a person you have cared for as your own child

Treats you as his or her worst enemy,

Lavish him or her with loving attention

Like a mother caring for her ill child — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Even if your peers or subordinates,

Put you down to make themselves look better,

Treat them respectfully as you would your teacher:

Put them above you — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

When you are down and out, held in contempt,

Desperately ill, and emotionally crazed,

Don’t lose heart. Take into you

The suffering and negativity of all beings — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Even when you are famous, honored by all,

And as rich as the god of wealth himself,

Don’t be pompous. Know that the magnificence of existence

Has no substance — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

If you don’t subdue the opponent inside, your own anger,

Although you subdue opponents outside, they just keep coming.

Muster the forces of loving kindness and compassion

And subdue your own mind — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Sensual pleasures are like salty water:

The deeper you drink, the thirstier you become.

Any object that you attach to,

Right away, let it go — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Whatever arises in experience is your own mind.

Mind itself is free of any conceptual limitations.

Know that and don’t generate

Subject-object fixations — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

When you come across something you enjoy,

Though beautiful to experience, like a summer rainbow,

Don’t take it as real.

Let go of attachment — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

All forms of suffering are like dreaming that your child has died.

Taking confusion as real wears you out.

When you run into misfortune,

Look at it as confusion — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

If those who want to be awake have to give even their bodies,

What need is there to talk about things that you simply own.

Be generous, not looking

For any return or result — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

If you can’t tend to your needs because you have no moral discipline,

Then intending to take care of the needs of others is simply a joke.

Observe ethical behavior without concern

For conventional existence — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

For bodhisattvas who want to be rich in virtue

A person who hurts you is a precious treasure.

Cultivate patience for everyone,

Completely free of irritation or resentment — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Listeners and solitary buddhas, working only for their own welfare,

Are seen to practice as if their heads were on fire.

To help all beings, pour your energy into practice:

It’s the source of all abilities — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Understanding that emotional reactions are dismantled

By insight supported by stillness,

Cultivate meditative stability that passes right by

The four formless states — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Without wisdom, the five perfections

Are not enough to attain full awakening.

Cultivate wisdom, endowed with skill

And free from the three domains — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

If you don’t go into your own confusion,

You may just be a materialist in practitioner’s clothing.

Constantly go into your own confusion

And put an end to it — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

You undermine yourself when you react emotionally and

Grumble about the imperfections of other bodhisattvas.

Of the imperfections of those who have entered the Great Way,

Don’t say anything — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

When you squabble with others about status and rewards,

You undermine learning, reflection, and meditation.

Let go of any investment in your family circle

Or the circle of those who support you — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Abusive language upsets others

And undermines the ethics of a bodhisattva.

So, don’t upset people or

Speak abusively — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

When reactive emotions acquire momentum, it’s hard to make remedies work.

A person in attention wields remedies like weapons,

Crushing reactive emotions such as craving

As soon as they arise — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

In short, in everything you do,

Know what is happening in your mind.

By being constantly present and aware

You bring about what helps others — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

To dispel the suffering of beings without limit,

With wisdom freed from the three spheres

Direct all the goodness generated by these efforts

To awakening — this is the practice of a bodhisattva.

Following the teachings of the holy ones

On what is written in the sutras, tantras, and commentaries,

I set out these thirty-seven practices of a bodhisattva

For those who intend to train in this path.

Because I have limited intelligence and little education,

These verses are not the kind of poetry that delights the learned.

But because I relied on the teachings of the sutras and the revered

I am confident that The Practices of a Bodhisattva is sound.

However, because it’s hard for a person with limited intelligence like me

To fathom the depths of the great waves of the activity of bodhisattvas,

I ask the revered to tolerate

Any mistakes — contradictions, non sequiturs, and such.

From the goodness of this work, may all beings,

Through the supreme mind that is awake to what is ultimately and apparently true,

Not rest in any limiting position — existence or peace:

May they be like Lord All Seeing.

Tokmé, the monk, a teacher of scripture and logic, composed this text in a cave near the town of Ngülchu Rinchen for his own and others’ benefit

This the first step just before practice turning our mind away of samsara.

Second part we must develop three steps very important.

Renounciation: to be able to practice the right way , we need renounce to samsara

Bodhichitta: mind of unconditional love and compassion

The right view : aiming to liberate all being losing self grasping

Knowing how to practice the dharma how we take a practice, some of us think the vehicle we are isnt important. Well to take the right practice is like taking the right medicine , if you had flue taking a tea wont do much, but if you take flue medicine that will help us more.

Mahayana practice are able to become Vajrayana too it depends on our views and bodhicitta.

Vajrayana practices are radically different some got inside practices of the practice and more.

Lets say that years we been practicing Chenrezig and we still not having compassion and our tendency still the same well its time to change.

What do we mean by discovering or rediscovering our true nature means, get rib of all egotistical constructions, become more selfless.

#spirituality #wisdom #mindfulness #meditation #religion #buddhism #self care #visualization #zen #tibet

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lunaticlua · 4 years ago

Text

how do you make a home? // part 5

series masterlist

also available on ao3

a/n: this chapter is probably one of the heaviest of this story. i tried to keep the description to its minimal, but the subject still is a difficult one. so, please be careful and prioritize your mental health as always.

tw: description of parents' death involving gun violence and blood

additional note: the title of the chapter is from 'the valley' by ethan gruska

gif by @toesure

chapter 5: and if childhood defines you, can it ever be behind you?

“there is a wall in my life built by you, you opened a door that a kid shouldn’t walk through” (guiltless – dodie)

The cup falls to ground as her eyes start watering and she blames the tears on the spilled water and broken glass. She rapidly knells down to clean up the mess with her bare hands in an attempt to silence an intruding voice of the past muttering “What did I do?” repeatedly. Before she can hurt herself with the sharp objects on the floor, an unknown hand stops her. Lulu takes more than she should to remember herself of the blonde boy’s presence.

He studies her with regret and concern on his face. But rather than calming her, it triggers the memory she is fighting to suffocate. The person in front of her is no longer JJ, the sixteen years old boy who makes her heart jump and her walls crumple. Suddenly, instead of being in Uncle Joe’s house, where she is safe and sound, she travels back to the place where it all happened, where she lost everything in one night. When she looks up from the chaos on the kitchen floor, she sees him. The man she once knew as dad, her beloved father who was the best man on Earth in her childish mind. The man she now referred to as Paul Jones, the one who murdered her mom.

She nervously gets up and takes several steps back, distancing herself from the tall, lean man. She watches his blood-soaked hands, a recently used gun on his right one and his insane expression. She lowers her eyes and where was the broken glass and spilled water she sees her mother bleeding on the living room’s navy-blue carpet of her childhood house. Falling to her knees, she tries to stop the blood from escaping her mother’s body as she had many years ago without success. She feels the woman who taught how to love and to be loved perishing on her arms.

She glances at her father, murmuring to himself. “What did I do? What did I do?” She tries to stop herself from saying because she knows the result of it. However, she listens to her voice screaming, even though she is aware that she didn’t open her mind. “What did you do? You killed her. You killed my mom!”

When she sees that look of regret and concern on the man’s face which she is too familiar with from her innumerous nightmares and troubling memories, she closes her eyes and puts her hands on her ears, bracing herself for what is about to happen. But the sound of gunshot never comes.

A soothing hand, so much different from the ones who caused all of this, touches her shoulders lightly. A worried but loving voice calling her comes through. When she opens her tired eyes, they meet ocean blue’s ones. She is back to the present time, breathing and free from harm.

“Lulu,” JJ breathes, taking her hands away from her ears and interlocking them with his own. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just appear out of nowhere and approach this subject.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t,” she answers earnestly after a beat. Noticing his growing remorse, she tries to smile, but ends up grimacing.

“I am really sorry. I didn’t think.”

“It is okay.”

“It is not, though. I know that it sucks to be forced to talk about something you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have done this to you.” He moves his thumb in a circular motion, trying to comfort her. “I know sorry doesn’t fix it, but I am. Sorry, I mean.”

“I know,” she moves her eyes to the awaiting mess on the kitchen, thinking she will need to get to it soon. As if reading her mind, he gets up and offers his hands for help. “I’ll clean up this mess and leave you alone, okay?”

“Don’t,” she mumbles, staring at her unlaced shoes.

“What? No, don’t think of contradicting me. It is my fault and I will clean it.”

She inhales and exhales and then look at him again with pleading eyes. “You can clean if you want. But don’t go. Stay, please. I don’t want to be alone.” JJ weighs down his answer for a couple of moments, making sure that he is welcomed, and simply nods. “I will wait for you on my bedroom.”

Ten minutes later, she is sitting on her bed, playing with the golden necklace that used to be her mother’s and Auntie Rita gave to her on her first birthday away from Outer Banks. This little piece of her mother had helped her many times, grounding her. In that moment, her head is at ease but far away, and she almost doesn’t notices the boy entering. He smiles shyly and she responds it by smiling back at him and gesturing for him to sit next to her, which seems to surprise him.

But what genuinely dumbfounds him is her soft speaking words. “I want to tell you. What happened, you know? I want to tell you.”

“Lulu, you don’t have to. I am sorry if I pressured you before, but you don’t have to.”

“JJ, you are not pressuring me. I want to. I really do,” she declares confidently, even though the prospect of telling it scares her.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I want to, anyway.” He seems hesitant, but motions to her speak. “What do you know?”

He recounts what he had learnt from Pope that day and what heard around town when it happened, choosing the best words he can to not upset her even more. Her father shot her mother and then killed himself in front of his nine years old daughter. In front of her. When he finishes, he sees a pained expression on her face, but, before he can start apologizing, she speaks.

“He was drunk,” she states and stays silent for a minute or two. When she opens her mouth to continue, he can see a single tear escaping her left eye. He moves to clean it before he can think it through, and her glistening eyes seem grateful for his caring attitude. “He used to drink. Not a lot. Just a normal amount on barbecues and parties. I have never seen him drunk. I don’t know why he had so much to drink that night. But he did and he got mad at my mom.

“I was in my room when he arrived. I think I was reading or something dumb like that. I remember hearing them fighting—They didn’t fight normally, you know? They used to argue sometimes, but they rarely screamed at each other. I can see now that my mom was afraid of him, but I never saw it when I was a kid. She… She used to have many secrets with me. Things that made him upset, but she still wanted to do. Like teaching me Portuguese, buying me ice cream before lunch, teaching music to some children around the island. He didn’t like those stuff and she hid it from him, so he didn’t get mad.

“That night, I got really scared because of the fighting. They rarely screamed and they were screaming so much. So, I decided to go downstairs. I was almost arriving on the living room when I heard— When I heard the—,” she stops abruptly, and he takes her hands again. “The gunshot. I run towards them and I saw her there. Pale. Bloodied. In her last breaths,” she hiccups with tears all across her face.

“Lulu, you don’t need to continue.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, denying. “I need this. I really do,” he cleans her cheeks with one of his hands and squeezes hers with his other one. “Her heart stopped right after. Then, I looked at him. At my father. He was freaked out and mumbling and walking from one side to the other. I don’t think that he had noticed me there until I spoke. I asked what he had done. I accused him of killing her, which he did do. And then he— He—You know. I was there and I stayed there the whole night. I just couldn’t move or speak or do something. I just stayed there. Our house was a little far away from the others. So, no one heard the gunshots. Uncle Joe found me there the next morning. My mom was supposed to meet him, and she didn’t come.”

Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy when she stops talking. His heart breaks some more with the sight of her. Small, defenseless, crying in front of him. Sensing that she had finished retelling the traumatic event, he asks permission with his eyes to hug her and she nods. Their embrace lasts a couple of minutes, but it seems like hours. With her head placed at the crook of his neck, she truly relaxes for the first time that day. He smells of weed, ocean salty water and sunscreen. Being hugged by him feels like coming home after a long time away and she wants it to last forever. In that moment, JJ realizes that he would be willing to do anything to keep her safe and close to him like this.

“just know you're not alone 'cause i'm going to make this place your home” (home – phillip phillips)

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x oc fic #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #jj x oc #jj x oc fic #jj x reader #jj fic #obx netflix #obx imagine #obx fic #obx fanfic #jj fanfic #my fanfics #hdymah fanfic

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threelivesthreeworlds · 4 years ago

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Anonymous asked: Hello sorry if I was unclear. What I meant to say is that most people have a superficial view on intimacy of any sort, and so while I love Tang Qi's portrayal of romance, I hate most people's physicality-obsessed interpretations. Dunno if it's a western thing, but fanfiction is so out of alignment with canon romance themes that the characters are barely recognisable anymore. (1/4)

Secondly, Most readers/viewers do not give characters like Yehua or Lian Song a chance before making stereotypical assumptions about them. I love their real personalities, flaws and all, but I hate the sheer hyperexaggeration the fandom makes out of it (e.g. hating on Ji Heng). People just cannot see a character as a whole but put them into one category or the other. (2/4)

Thirdly, I just added that I relate to Lian Song(depression etc) because I kinda share his views on romance/love and don't really care for physical aspects that much. I'm aware he's a playboy, but he's also not a stereotypical one (which is unfortunately how most people interpret him) so it's a relief that your blog instead backs up my interpretation of him with facts. (3/4)

Lastly, I'm so sorry for ranting in the Q & A section. Making several points with a word limit really compromises what I'm trying to say 😆. But the bottom line was that fandoms' misinterpretations of your favourite characters makes it hard to see them in an objective light again. (4/4)

(this 4th one came in after most of our answers were done, so we apologize if it comes off a little ??? we weren’t aware of the end goal for the anons received. We mean no ill-will in how we come across, just elaborating on things and we hope that’s alright with you. <3)

(Admin Lin): Hey! Thanks for sharing your opinions, though these anons are starting to get a little haughty for our own comfort to continue addressing. Both admins have our own grievances with the fandom / how it views particular characters (Ji Heng being a prime example here), however the fandom still offers plenty of good things from it. This is not only a western fandom “issue” (I say as this physicality isn’t necessarily an issue), it can be found in the eastern fandom as well for not only this series but others as well. Both admins are in fact western fandom despite Admin Ro being Asian.

As for when it comes down to interpretations - Peach Blossoms is written in first person and hard to find on the western side of the internet; Yehua has an extra from his perspective but that’s the only direct contact we get with him that isn’t through Bai Qian’s eyes. Qian isn’t a romantic person nor does she necessarily find what he does romantic, she’s been engaged to him for so long she kind of considered their engagement troublesome due to her past experience with his Uncle Sang Ji. When it comes to the drama’s take of Yehua, we get a clearer idea of him but at the same time it’s easy to see where others can’t grasp him in his entirety or simplify things when in a fanfiction. Or, for the likes of me, knows what he’s like but can’t formulate a more articulate summary or introspective version of him because of his extensive complexities and in some ways, the knowledge of a Chinese household of some fashion to express the intricacies of his upbringing. It’s merely harder.

In the case of Lian Song - the Western fandom doesn’t have access to the information that can be found on this blog as easily because Lotus Step is in the middle of a hiatus but will continue serializing by next year. So, it’s no one’s fault for misunderstanding what kind of playboy he is since that was only addressed in the fall of last year and the dramas both make it clear he’s a playboy / amorous person but never elaborates on it. So it’s an easy assumption to make that he may be a typical playboy by fans of the other available media because he’s not featured beyond Yehua’s uncle or Donghua’s best friend with touches here and there of his connection to Cheng Yu. It’s only in his novel that we get to see a different side of him that will ultimately have a shift at some point to what we see 50,000 years down the line. So, I’m not actually bothered by this myself, personally. It is bound to happen because no one on the western side of the fandom has as much access or want to read an untranslated novel.

With TQ’s stance on romance writing, I will say the concept of eternal love or a love that lasts 3,000 lifetimes is a very Chinese one that unless one digs through it with patience and interest in Buddhism / other Eastern religions, that it can be a harder nuance to grasp for those unfamiliar.

(Admin Ro): We’re sorry you’ve had bad experiences with “fanon” material. We’re thankful that you like the content on this blog enough to comment on it! These are my opinions on the whole affair: as a Chinese woman who reads Chinese novels, from a perspective of writing tropes, hyper-exaggeration is already frequently utilized...in canon. And - from a personal standpoint, when the tropes hit right, I - don’t necessarily mind. Depth can be dug out of the text, but it’s understandable for people to simplify when they’re simply writing or analyzing for their enjoyment.

I’m ace, so maybe I understand, Nonny, when you say that you don’t care for the physical aspects of love. I personally, in my life, don’t necessarily want or need that kind of intimacy, and I don’t find myself straying into the smut tag too often to read about it as it stretches my comfort limits. Granted, I am not sex-repulsed, and it takes a great deal to upset me - however, if everything is in layers and someone enjoys writing smut, then they simply enjoy that layer. Romance isn’t less good and interpretations aren’t less good if there’s a degree of physicality in it. Heck, Admin Lins and I have discussed extensively the physicality of these books - we keep it off the blog 80% of the time because tagging, but it’s a present theme. And, all of us enjoy different things. At the end of the day I think we can’t say the tropes aren’t good when the tropes are the lead-ins that drew us into the more extensive stories.

Furthermore, a lot of what is on this blog is “read,”and I will never say my read of a character or a part of canon is “right” - or that it's “right”-er than someone else’s. Yes, there’s room for passionate debate as evidenced by many, many essays, but I’m not upset when I can’t change anyone’s mind. People are not automatically wrong when they disagree with me - even if there’s textual evidence, there is difference in interpretation of that textual evidence. I understand why fandom thinks the way it does - though, you’ll have to forgive me, my brain is 90% of the time focused on Pillow Book. Regardless, whether you walk out of a book thinking “this character has this much depth and this many flaws” or “this character is just a flat out antagonist” is very much dependent on you. Yes, we as a blog synthesize textual evidence to make that synthesis easier, but ultimately we are no better judges of anyone’s personality than anyone else out in the fandom.

Rather, I think sometimes for the sake of finding reasons or understanding, or when we look for evidence fitting our own assumptions about characters sometimes we lean into a softer read, maybe entirely without realizing it. This is a big no in the world of analytical writing for the sake of, ironically “objectivity” - but this is for enjoyment and not academia. There are times when textual evidence is untouched by the author's tone in terms of connotation and so when we take it for our reading and we have our pre-formed opinions we fall a little more between the lines. Admin Lins and I obviously differ in where this happens as we each have our own, minutely different vibes for characters in question. We know where our confirmation biases in interpretation might lie. Everyone has those.

Up till about February or March this year, I, like a lot of the rest of this fandom, wanted to roast Ji Heng on a spitfire. That is my bias. We are humans, and I think we are perhaps incapable of reading something and staying entirely objective to each character. I clawed my way out of my bias (I say ‘clawed’ because it was difficult), however, by looking at the book, looking at my own opinions, looking at other people’s opinions and asking myself: which parts of this is most likely to be true? I think the only way of striving toward objectivity in terms of portrayal is to consider other people’s portrayals, even if you don’t like them - and see if there’s any truth you can see past your bias. And to accept that truth, even if it’s a hard pill to swallow.

I guess what I have been trying to say, for this entire time, is that we are not the authority on what is and isn’t objective, on what is and isn’t right in these characters, interpretations, and this blog. We are glad to be an interpretation you enjoy - but that doesn’t mean the rest of the fandom who have different opinions are wrong or misinterpretations. I realize we can come across like that sometimes because we make salty memes and because we write long paragraph essays when we have opinions, but ultimately, no one is wrong. Our bubble of enjoyment is our bubble, and no one has to agree with us.

#three lives three worlds ten miles of peach blossoms #three lives three worlds the lotus step #Yehua #Lian Song #admin lin answers #admin ro answers

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leviachaan · 4 years ago

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My name is Kali, she/her. I’m mostly extroverted accept with adults and older teens. (like seniors) I’m a bit of a tsundere (I know cringe-worthy), I’m very protective of my friends and family, I'm a hugger and cuddler. I am dirty-minded. I have a small fear of elevators (long story). And I like softball, swimming, reading novels, playing video games, watching Youtube videos, watching crime shows. I also am a procrastinator and also a workaholic at the same time. Take as long as you need!!

//thank you for the request! I hope you are having a great day/night!

My first thought after reading the text was our good sweet hungry boi...Beel!

Both of you are protective of the people you love so you both would be constantly all over each other.

You would look after him by always keeping some snacks with you in case of the hungry Beelzebub hurricane appearing and swooping anything edible and inedible on sight and he would be your bodyguard 24/7.

He would insist on accompanying you to most places so you won't be in danger. Poor hungry boi loves you too much to see you getting hurt :(

You realised how much time you two spend together after seeing that anyone who was looking for Beel came to you.

Mammon's constant whining every time Beel was about to sleep in your room made you hyper aware of all the times you two slept together.

You love cuddles? He's your demon! It's like having your very own giant teddy bear.

He would greet you with a tight hug every morning, but sometimes it could be a bit just too tight-

Beel: "I missed you :) "

MC: "Beel, I can't breathe-"

PIGGY👏 BACK 👏 RIDES👏

Your leg hurts and you can't walk? You are too lazy to walk somewhere? He just missed you and wants to somehow spend time with you? Uber Beel is at your service.

He would find your tsundere demeanour very cute and would often leave a soft chuckle every time you were salty towards him.

Most of the time he would treat those tsundere tendencies with a hug or by ruffling your hair.

He wouldn't understand your fear of elevators at first, thinking that you were somehow afraid of the object itself.

Beel: "Don't worry, MC. It's not alive, it can't eat you. I promise."

But as soon as he saw how terrified you looked as soon as you stepped into one, his protective mode would be switched on and he would instantly reach for your hand and hold it tight.

If you were still scared, he would bring you close to him, lay his head on your head and hum a soft melody to calm you down while rocking back and forth.

He wouldn't really get all of your dirty references- he's oblivious to some of them. Protect this man.

You both like sports so he would also join you in your workouts!

Even if he hasn't tried the sport you like, he would more than willing to try it out for you!

He would be thrilled to have you teach him about the sport too! More time with you=pleased boyo.

Same goes with any video game and series you might be into. It makes you happy so he wants to indulge in the thing that makes you happy as well! Your happiness is his happiness.

If you are feeling unmotivated, don't worry! He will save some of his treats to give you every time you finish one of your assignments.

Don't take too long though, he's not sure for how long he can keep himself away from the snacks.

Lots of cuddles and hugs waiting for you as soon as you finish!

If you offered him any of the snacks he saved for you, you would be able to practically hear him falling head over heels for you.

Hope you enjoyed the matchup and thank you for being patient!💖

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absolutelynoct · 5 years ago

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@this-is-that-moment requested a fluffy Gladnoct prompt so I decided to write this quick thing. I hope you like it!

Noctis didn’t want to get up and train with Gladio. The only thing he wanted to do was stay asleep, nice and warm in the shared tent that they had pitched the night before. It was comfortable in his sleeping bag, and when Gladio had shaken him in the morning to get him to open his eyes and join him for a morning run, Noctis had only tried to roll over and go back to bed. But Gladio’s growl told him he wasn’t having it, and with another angry shake Noctis was out of bed in an instant.

It didn’t matter how many times Gladio or Ignis forced him up in the early hours of the morning. He simply didn’t have the circadian rhythm to be an early morning riser, and when he scrambled out of the tent, dressed in his running shorts and tank top, he felt like no amount of running would wake him up enough to not want to take a nap as soon as he got back to camp. He doubted there was much that could keep him awake at this hour.

“Come on,” Gladio said with a smile on his face, looking awake and refreshed in the light of the rising sun. He was dressed the same as Noctis, save for the fact that Gladio was forgoing his shirt as usual. Noctis pretended not to notice his hard abs, his chiseled pecs, his bulging biceps. It was no wonder Gladio was so awake and refreshed. He had been working out early in the morning for years to get such a perfect body that he was used to it by now. Noctis would never be used to it, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he tripped along the way.

Noctis mumbled something incoherent about being too tired to function much less run, but he followed Gladio through the forest regardless. Chocobos chirped in the distance, and Noctis was aware that they would be spending the entire day wrangling Prompto. Ignis in particular would have a difficult time keeping Prompto under wraps, and Noctis wondered if there was something going on between them that neither of them wanted to say. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that though. Now was the time to worry about how torturous Gladio was going to be on this run.

They got started quickly after a brief stretch to warm up. At first it was a simple jog through the forest, an easy enough trek to wake themselves up and get their heart rates up. Then Gladio picked up the pace, and Noctis was panting as he tried to stay on the sworn shield’s tail. He was panting, suffering through each breath, and Gladio reminded him to keep his breathing even while he ran. He ran with Gladio until he couldn’t run anymore, and they would take a break and walk until Gladio had him running again.

His lungs were burning, his body screaming for reprieve as they whipped past the trees around them, following the narrow trail in the forest that would take them to the chocobo farm and back to the campground. Noctis wanted to stop and rest when they reached the farm, but Gladio told him there would be time for rest later. His muscles screaming for reprieve, he followed Gladio back towards camp, unable to groan as he could only focus on his breathing.

About halfway through the run back, Noctis tripped and fell over a root, his ankle twisting painfully as he tumbled onto the dirt path. He let out a yelp, and Gladio immediately stopped, his grin turning to a concerned form as he saw Noctis righting himself and clutching his ankle as it ached painfully. It was something that would easily heal with a potion, but Noctis realized they were out of the potions as he searched the armiger for one. He let out a curse under his breath as Gladio came over to assess the damage.

“We’re out of potions,” Noctis groaned as Gladio looked at it. “Of course.”

“I’ll carry you,” Gladio offered. Noctis was about to object, but Gladio had him on his back in an instant, holding his legs as Noctis’s arms were wrapped around his neck. They moved slower this time, Gladio walking as he carried the prince easily. Noctis thought about how sweaty Gladio was beneath his touch, how strong he was as his shield. He thought about how great it was to feel Gladio beneath his touch and blushed in embarrassment.

“I wonder if Ignis and Prompto are awake,” Noctis said, trying to take his mind off of how delightful it felt to have Gladio’s sweaty body pressed against him.

“Careful now,” Gladio said with a grin. Noctis blushed bright red as he spoke. “You keep it… up… Someone is going to think you’re in love with me.”

“So what if I am?” Noctis said, hiding his face as he pressed his forehead against Gladio’s shoulder. He didn’t want Gladio to see him blushing so brightly. “What if I told you that I’m in love with you?”

“About time,” Gladio replied, surprising Noctis. Was he going to just laugh at him? “Noctis, come on. Let me see your face for a second.”

Gladio stopped walking and turned his head, straining his neck so he could try and see Noctis. Noctis leaned his head forward as Gladio asked, still highly embarrassed that Gladio had not only felt how attracted he was to him but knew already as well. As Gladio looked at him, Noctis expected him to laugh then tell him they were just friends. Instead, Gladio pressed his lips against the prince’s, their lips salty from the sweat of running through the forest.

“Love you too, Noct,” Gladio said simply with a smile. “Come on. Ignis and Prompto will still be asleep. We can take care of that while we’re waiting for them to wake up.”

Noctis was still blushing, but he felt a rush of joy go through him as he gripped Gladio a little tighter. It had been so simple that he didn’t know why he had mentioned it before. Gripping Gladio became more of a hug as they made their way back to camp, happy to have his sworn shield now his lover in his arms.

#noctis #gladio #gladnoct #ffxv #Final Fantasy XV #Noctis Lucis Caelum #gladiolus amicitia #amitiel writes #prompt request

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kaesaaurelia · 5 years ago

Text

sick day

For @whumptober2019 day 24: secret injury.

This is a followup to day 5: gunpoint, which was Gabriel/Crowley noncon.

Aziraphale/Crowley, content warnings for references to rape, illness, vomit, and... drug abuse, I guess? (I mean, it’s just cold medicine, but it’s definitely an abuse of cold medicine.)

Crowley was watching television when the knock at the door came. His stomach was still roiling from the morning, and he was in such a foul mood that he genuinely hoped it was a door-to-door salesman. Hell was in the midst of road construction, anyway, and could use the extra building material.

But when he cracked the door open, it was Aziraphale, looking politely worried, as if he would stop worrying if it was inconvenient at the moment. (He wouldn't, Crowley knew.) He was holding several plastic bags and two cartons of soup.

Crowley hadn't realized until now that Aziraphale was both the only person he wanted to see right now, and also the absolute last person he wanted to see. He tried to make himself speak but all that came out was a very hoarse approximation of "Angel?"

"Oh, my dear, you sound positively awful," said Aziraphale.

"Thanksss?" he said, but Aziraphale hadn't waited for a response before bustling in, the plastic bags rustling.

Crowley drifted into the kitchen in Aziraphale's wake and watched him take out a big cardboard box from one of the bags.

"Do you have bowls?" Aziraphale asked him, tugging a block of styrofoam out of the box and pulling a kettle out of it. He unwound the cord quickly and plugged the kettle in. At no point did he consult Crowley on any of these decisions, which was actually fine, because Crowley didn't want to make decisions right now, about anything, although he was still very certain he didn't want Aziraphale to be here, and equally certain that he just wanted Aziraphale to sit next to him and talk to him forever about nothing.

"Er. No?" Crowley said.

"You do now," said Aziraphale. He filled the kettle up and set it to boil. "I'm afraid they didn't have a fancy kettle with a lot of bells and whistles, I know you like that sort of thing, but there are only so many bells and whistles one can add to --"

"What are you doing here?" Crowley blurted.

Aziraphale took a bowl out of his cabinet -- fussy porcelain ones, in a blue and white pattern -- and began to spoon soup into it, out of the carton, with a ladle that Crowley also definitely hadn't owned before. "I'm keeping you company," he said.

"Didn't know you needed soup for that," said Crowley, watching the bowl fill up with soup.

"It's supposed to be soothing when you've got a sore throat," said Aziraphale. "Which you do. How's the coughing by the w-- oh, oh dear," said Aziraphale, as Crowley suddenly remembered just how scratchy his throat was and began coughing again. A nasty little glob of mucus and blood ended up on his hand, which he tried to hide from Aziraphale, and failed. "Is that blood, Crowley?"

"I'm fine, it's fine, just -- just a lot of coughing. It's a cold, or ssomething."

Aziraphale gave him a look, the sort of look that made Crowley wish he was wearing his sunglasses. "When have you ever had a cold before, Crowley?" said Aziraphale. "Ever?"

In the background, the television emitted syrupy clarinet music as Crowley tried to come up with something to say. "Well," said Crowley. "Well I mean." He cleared his throat. It tasted metallic.

"Crowley, what happens when you get a cold? What are the symptoms?" Aziraphale asked, in his I am being very patient with you now, I hope you know that voice.

"Well, there's coughing, and sneezing, and, and headaches," said Crowley, "and... throwing up?" he hazarded. Seemed a safe bet. Most human ailments tended to have throwing up in there, and he had definitely been throwing up. "Oh, and sores," he added, with confidence, because he'd definitely heard of cold sores.

Aziraphale looked no less worried. "How do you know it's a cold and not... something worse?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Well. Well it might be, I don't know, tuberculosis or something," said Aziraphale.

"It's not tuberculosis," said Crowley, rolling his eyes. "Where would I even get that?"

"I don't know!" said Aziraphale. "But I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong, Crowley!"

"I didn't asssk you to h--" Crowley promptly started coughing again. It went on and on, and Crowley genuinely wondered if he was going to discorporate from this, if his body wouldn't just shake apart from the violence of the cough, and his eyes were watering and his head hurt terribly, and when he was finally able to stop coughing, he was dizzy for a good few breaths.

Finally, when Crowley had caught his breath, Aziraphale said, "May I please stay and keep you company, at least?"

"Fine," said Crowley. "But I don't want to talk about it."

Aziraphale gave him a tiny, hopeful smile, and Crowley's eyes started watering again, but thankfully, Aziraphale had to turn away for a moment to put the bowl of soup on a plate, and Crowley wiped the tears away before Aziraphale handed him the soup.

Crowley didn't want the soup. He didn't not want the soup, but his stomach had not been the same since it'd had an archangel dick in it. Crowley wasn't sure if it was a physiological issue or if his stomach simply objected to archangels on lack of principal, but either way, he'd been nauseous on and off all day and had had to reinstall the gag reflex a couple of times. He'd decided just to leave it in for now.

Maybe the soup would get the taste out of his mouth, metaphorically. He took a spoonful. It was nice. Salty. It stung going down, but it didn't make him cough, at least.

"Why don't you go sit down with that?" Aziraphale said. Normally Crowley would have objected to being ordered around in his own home (or out of it), no matter how gently, but coughing was tiring and there was a couch to loll around on.

Aziraphale joined him in a few moments, with his own bowl of soup, and also two mugs of tea. Crowley could feel Aziraphale's eyes on him, soft and worried and kind, and he almost told him; he almost said So the actual thing is, your boss squirted holy water down my throat and then stuck his comically large dick down same, and then, not to be outdone in sheer depravity, I bit off his dick and ate it, but the trouble was...

The trouble was, really, that Aziraphale might believe him. He might not, and Crowley didn't want to think about that, didn't want to consider the possibility that Aziraphale would think he'd make something up like that. But the real trouble was that Aziraphale might hear that, and think, Yes, Gabriel would do that, and then he would think But that's horrible! Somebody ought to do something about him! and then -- and then Aziraphale would march right up to Heaven and say -- what? Crowley was no longer familiar with the procedures of Heavenly Resources, but he couldn't imagine this going well for Aziraphale. At best, he would end up Falling so Heaven could save face and shut him up.

Aziraphale didn't deserve any of that, so Crowley wasn't telling him, ever.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the television host wander around a dilapidated garden, talking about vegetables and occasionally fondling hedges in an overfamiliar way. "Where is this house, anyway? I think I've been there," said Aziraphale, after a while.

"Dunno, I missed the start of it while we were arguing about soup," said Crowley. "Now we'll never be able to follow the plot."

"We weren't arguing about soup," said Aziraphale.

Crowley stopped talking. He was aware of Aziraphale, on the other side of the couch, without seeing him; aware of the weight of him on the cushions, the warmth of him, the mild scrape of his spoon against his bowl. He closed his eyes, and tried to make this be enough. This should be enough, he knew; it had been more than enough only a week ago. But now he wanted to lean against Aziraphale, and if he did that it still wouldn't be enough; he'd want Aziraphale to hold him.

He tried not to think about Aziraphale's hands on his back, or in his hair, or how Aziraphale smelled.

After the television provided a thrilling recital of statistics about glasshouses, Aziraphale put his soup bowl down on the coffee table and cleared his throat, awkwardly. "Was it a... was it a work thing?" he asked, tentatively.

Crowley didn't have it in him to start another fight with Aziraphale. "Yeah," he said, weakly.

"I'm sorry," said Aziraphale.

Crowley didn't ask what he was sorry about. "It's fine, angel."

"Is the soup helping?" he asked hopefully.

"A little." There was a chunk of chicken in his next spoonful, though, and the feel of it sliding down his throat was too much. Crowley started coughing, getting chicken soup all down his front, and then hurriedly put his bowl down and rushed to the bathroom, whereupon he threw up once more. The soup did not taste half as good coming up. "Fuck," he muttered, chugged three glasses of water, and wandered back out, shakily.

Aziraphale was standing uncertainly outside the bathroom, looking more worried than ever.

"It's fine, angel," Crowley said, before Aziraphale could accuse him of anything.

"I brought, er. I brought medicine," said Aziraphale. "I don't know if it would help but that sounds -- well. Very unpleasant."

"Mm. Yeah," said Crowley. "What sort of medicine?"

"I don't really know," said Aziraphale. "I went to the chemist and said, 'Have you got anything for sore throats?' and they did, so I bought one of everything. They seemed concerned. I said it was a very bad cough. Which it clearly is!"

Crowley considered this. "Well. Worth a try," he said. "Did you get any of the stuff with heroin in it?"

"I don't think they sell that anymore," said Aziraphale.

"Ah, well, it's not very good if you drink it anyway," said Crowley. They made their way back into the kitchen, where Aziraphale dumped his new collection of cough and cold remedies out onto the counter. "Which one is the best?" Crowley asked, frowning at the lengths of the words on some of the labels.

"I asked, and they said it depended on the cough," said Aziraphale, as though he was suspicious they'd been withholding information.

"Could just try them all," said Crowley.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt," said Aziraphale. "It is medicine, after all."

Crowley ended up skipping anything in a tablet, because swallowing solid things did not seem like a good idea just now, but he worked his way through four or five (or six? He was beginning to lose count) nasty little plastic cups of various cough medicines, and then downed some tea with honey to get rid of the taste.

"Well?" Aziraphale asked, expectantly.

"'Ss all a bit ssswimmy," said Crowley.

"Oh dear," said Aziraphale. Crowley made his way carefully back to the couch before collapsing onto it. "Do you feel better, at least?"

"Mm. Nope. Maybe," said Crowley. Aziraphale sat down next to him. "I feel. I feel drunk."

"Well. That might be better, depending," said Aziraphale.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, across the terrible distance imposed by the fact that the couch was not a loveseat, and decided just this once, it would be fine to lean up against Aziraphale. He lurched across the couch, and ended up with his head resting on Aziraphale's shoulder. "Definitely better," he said.

"Ah," said Aziraphale. "You are definitely drunk. Or something similar."

"Sssomething sssimilar," said Crowley, for the sheer sibilance of it. "Tasssted bloody awful though. Wine'ss better."

Aziraphale considered him for a moment, and then put his arm around Crowley's shoulder. It was good. It was much better than sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

He turned his face so that it was pressed against Aziraphale's chest, and this -- this was ideal. He felt safe like this. "'M glad you're here," he mumbled into Aziraphale's jacket. "Talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything," said Crowley. "Jussst want. Jussst want to hear your voicsse. Not work," he warned. "Bookssss, maybe. Anything. After it happened, all I wanted wasss to hear your voicsse."

"Oh," said Aziraphale. There was a long silence, and from the way Aziraphale's breath had hitched, Crowley realized, vaguely, that he might've said too much. But then Aziraphale spoke again. "Well! Well, I started reading last night and forgot to close the shop, so my first customer today came in at seven in the morning -- can you imagine! Buying books at seven in the morning!"

"Terrible," agreed Crowley, muzzily.

"Awful," agreed Aziraphale. "Who raised these people? So, of course, I said..." He continued on in this vein for -- well, Crowley didn't know how long, because Crowley fell asleep soon after.

He woke up several days later in his bed, remembered everything with mingled horror and fondness, and resolved never to take cough medicine again. But he did call Aziraphale and assure him that he was well, and he didn't cough all day, and they arranged to go to the show Crowley'd had to miss before, because Gabriel had mysteriously failed to arrange a meeting, and (Aziraphale had added) he didn't much want to see Gabriel anyway.

#good omens #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #whumptober2019 #no.24 #cw noncon #cw illness #cw vomit #cw drugs #text #fiction #kaesa op

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