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ct-multifandom · 3 years ago

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the REAL scary part of this episode two: electric boogaloo

https://ct-multifandom.tumblr.com/post/658852572552183808/the-real-scary-part-of-this-episode

Hey guys, remember this post I made right after Wishmaker came out? It feels like half of tumblr’s ml regulars have seen it and freaked out over it, and I’ve even seen people citing this post in the tag without actually @ -ing me. but if you’ve managed to avoid it I’d recommend catching up before reading the squeakuel.

Edit: holy crap I wrote 90% of this post in November right when this episode came out and completely forgot about it. *Francine voice* I’m a failure. Sorry guys, better late than never.

In the last post, I basically saw the image of Adrien’s parents with their eye colors as the opposite of what they’re “supposed” to be, and went on this whole deep dive into theories reminiscent of the parent trap and celebrity wife swap.

Thing is, though, Gabriel Agreste takes place nine episodes before Wishmaker and BOY does it have more evidence for my theories. Literally brought a tear to my eye when I noticed this one detail below.

Why haven’t I seen a single soul bring this up before me?

When Marino slides past Gabriel’s finger print scanning security tablet, every single person before her scanned their finger, and they clearly all checked out, but she made sure not to have to touch it because she knew she wouldn’t pass. After this, Chloe insists Gabriel watch her video, so Marino “trips” and throws her tall box of plates at Chloe. This causes Chloe to drop her phone as Adrien jumps to catch it BUT ALSO Gabriel drops his tablet, which BREAKS. The screen doesn’t just shatter, it totally shuts down.

Who are the only people who arrive at the party after this occurs?

Felix and Amelie. Neither of them get their fingerprints scanned while everyone else save Marino did. This is such a subtle yet deliberate detail, so I can’t be surprised that it was missed, but I can’t believe nobody’s made a post about it here yet. The only conclusion I can really draw from this is that Felix, Amelie, or both have fingerprints that don’t match to the ones they should have according to the data in Gabriel’s system.

Everyone’s already analyzed the strong implication that Felix is a sentimonster a million times, so I won’t go deep into that, and these theories operate under the assumption that it’s true, but can sentiFelix explain the possibility of Felix having the “wrong” fingerprint?

Human sentis should theoretically have fingerprints because sentis made with the intention of being humans have all traits that an organic human would have. I’d imagine a human senti would inherently have a unique fingerprint, and Gabriel must have something in the system for Felix regardless because he’s an invited guest. Gabriel and Felix are both aware of Felix being a sentimonster, so even if this isn’t the case, they’d work around it.

But something that stuck out to me was how Gabriel threatened Felix with the same ring he’d soon fiddle with while manipulating Adrien in Mega Leech and more explicitly in Ephemeral. From here on out I’ll be operating under the idea that the rings are the amok object for SentiFelix and SentiAdrien. Was Gabriel bluffing to Felix about the ring being his amok object? Did he really not know whose it was? Did he only figure out it was Adrien’s, and not Felix’s, after attempting and failing to control Felix with it? Are the rings two halves of a single object with a single amok in it like the record from Crocoduel, and both of the boys aren’t tied to one specific ring each?

Here’s a kind of crazy concept: Felix and Adrien swapped places at some point in the past. That would explain Gabriel being unable to magically influence Felix with a ring he thought was made for Felix, because the one he knows as Felix was born as Adrien, and vice versa.

Back to Wishmaker, Adrien is missing a lot of his childhood memories. In my last post I talked about the green eyed woman vs the blue eyed woman. I’ll continue that thought here, so if you have no idea what I’m talking about, peek at the linked post. Our Adrien remembers the blue eyed woman being his birth mother, but all image evidence of Emilie shows her with green eyes

When Felix looks at the portrait of the green-eyed woman, his expression is oddly tender, like more genuine than we’ve ever seen him before. This implies that he has some fond memories of her, which is interesting because we don’t know about any interactions between them, and Adrien doesn’t seem particularly close with Amelie. Could this green-eyed woman be Felix’s birth mother? He’s already a huge mommy’s boy to green-eyed Amelie.

That sort of brings me to another possibility that I explored in the last post: could Amelie and Emilie have switched places? Idk how they’d pull off the massive girlboss gaslighting operation needed to make that work (well, I have one idea) but that would explain why green-eyed Amelie didn’t scan her finger either; it would have come back as the wrong print.

So, in summary, several concepts:

Adrien was born as Felix to the blue-eyed woman and the green-eyed man (who probably died a bit ago). Felix was born as Adrien to the green-eyed woman.

Potentially, they weren’t swapped at birth but grew up this way too, hence all the family photos and Adrien’s missing childhood memories

Le Paon scrubbed memories that were inconvenient to her

Amelie and Emilie swapped places at some point somehow

Literally everyone is a freaking sentimonster except for Le Paon (blue eyes?) and maybe Felix’s dead dad hence why she manipulated everyone so easily and why the two families are like mirror image clones of each other

To close this off, I want to type out a big DISCLAIMER. I’ve seen a lot of people take my theories (general) really seriously, so for that reason I want to make this clear. I notice a lot of little details that many people do not, and these details are Evidence. Of what? Well, I can never be truly sure, so for that reason I spitball a bunch of Ideas. Sometimes they’re cool or interesting or fanfic-like, sometimes they’re realistic, sometimes they’re crazy, but they’re all just Ideas.

For example, I recently made a theory that Marc and Nath would do a kwami swap, and I came across several posts where people referenced it outside the realm of my blog. There’s nothing wrong with believing one of my Ideas, but I wouldn’t say that I think they’ll do a kwami swap. I think that’s very plausible, and I’d love to see it, but I’m not 100% sure anything will happen. What I do know is the Evidence: there are several images associated with season 4 of a rooster holder who isn’t Coq, and that’s what’s important. My best conclusion was that it’s Nath, thus the goat would be open to Marc, but there is no Evidence to support another goat holder. Maybe the rooster is actually Aspik 3.0, or an Adrienette child from the future, or Spock, the Rock, Doc Ock, or Hulk Hogan.

Similarly, when I make these crazy sentimonster theories they’re all just Ideas. Some of them are even semi-ironic or just “this would be really compelling but I would never image they’d make it canon”. I even change my mind about my own thoughts a lot, especially when new info comes up. The Evidence in this case is that Felix and Amelie didn’t get their fingerprints scanned, and this was very deliberately framed by the writers as well as the story boarders. Also, Felix has affectionate memories about the woman in the painting. Everything else is possible explanations for why this is, but those facts are what really matter.

I can’t wait to see what they really mean in canon, and what other foreshadowing we will even have missed up until some kind of lore reveal, but for the time being, this is the Part 2 of things that caught my attention surrounding the Agreste/GdV lore. Interpret it as you will.

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obsidian-chika · 4 years ago

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Zhongli x Male Reader

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝘄𝗼

┲━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┱

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬

┺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┹

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

A few days have pasted since the male's last visit to the Golden House. The weather didn't show any signs of sun. The ceremony drew nearer and nearer. Soon, the events to pick the bride or groom would commence.

No exorcist could even come close to the place. There were many stubborn and overly confident ones that have tried, but to no avail.

Which family would it be? Who will be the one to get sent off to the Golden House, as the bride or groom?

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Liyue had events that would take place.

One, was the well known lantern festival for Lunar New Years. People would spend time with their family and friends. Games, food stalls, filled with happiness. Joyful times for the people that took part in the celebration. As well as releasing lanterns at night.

Two, would be the choosing and wedding ceremony for the spirit attached to the Golden House. These were mostly filled with grief. Families fearing for the life of their children, hoping that it won't have their family name on the slip of paper being picked.

About a two weeks before the choosing and a month before the marriage ceremony, people would start to planning of the event. Listing out everything that was needed. Having traditional clothing for the marriage on hand, the timing for both parts, times to use as offerings, the host(s), along with ideas of foods and drinks getting made for the event.

(M/n)'s family usually took part in the clothing, jewelry, and any other accessories. Helping to provide fabrics for the male or female wedding gown, fresh make up supplies, jewelry, any type of hair piece, along with anything else to prepare the bridge or groom. Also, having fabric out for a male wedding gown to get burned off in place for the ghost.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Soon, the choosing began. The people of Liyue gathered. Names of the different families have been craved onto sticks and placed in a jar. There was a table set up, with variety of foods, incenses, flowers, and other Liyue specialties. Red and gold decorated the area, everything was falling into place. Soon a family would be chosen for the wedding.

Not long after everyone has gathered, Liyue's leader stepped forward to start the ceremony. There were lots of people in the crowd, praying that they didn't have to give their kid away to the cursed spirit.

"We are here today, to find out who will be the chosen one for this traditional wedding. When the family name is acquired, may I ask for the head of the family to step forward to retrieve some items, along with announcing which child within the family it will be. 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻."

There was a large can of sticks, each stick being engraved with a family's name. The can was shaken up and down, which ever stick fell out, the family who's name is engraved will be the one providing the second part of the pairing. The crowd was silent as their Leader raised the can you and down in front of her. A group of sticks raised above the rest, but one remained up and out while the others fell back, and it dropped to the ground. The sound moving through the crowd.

She picked it up, raising to her feet, "the (l/n) family was chosen, the head of the family please come up for the items and to announce the partner of the marriage."

The boy stood in the far back to the crowd froze apron hearing his family's name being spoken out as the chosen. He hoped he wouldn't have to go, there were many things he still wanted to do. Seeing the beautiful of the world and acquiring any new type of knowledge he could because he had a passion for learning what he didn't know. He wasn't focusing on the speech his father was giving the crowd, he just wanted to go somewhere far away from what seemed like his home. Not catching much of the conversation, his father's words snapped him out of his inner thoughts.

"— as much as it hurts me to say, the son, (M/n), will be the one becoming the groom for this occasion."

The crowd was silent. Great. He knew it, nothing would change how he was viewed by his parents. He knew what his father said about his was a lie, his father and mother would gladly jump at the chance to remove him. His fate was now sealed, he was going to get married off in about one month. No one to save him, he could run away from it all, but it wouldn't feel right to push what he had to do onto someone else.

He didn't know what else to say beside replying with, "I accept my fate. I accept the responsibility that was placed onto myself. I will do my best."

No one smiled. No one was clapping. He was like a small sunshine around the harbor, but now his fate was decided. The only ones happy were his parents, the smirk of victory they felt when they no longer have to house that child they find horrid.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

He had about 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵 before he would be married off. It was quite ironic to him, the place he found comfort in would also be the last thing he would be seeing in this life time. His time was now limited, so he wanted to make the most out of it. He traveled to places he loved, manipulating his hydro vision to teleport during some of his travels.

He now about 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸𝘀 of time left after traveling to some and most of his favorite places. He wanted to spend the time he had left around the harbor. Helping people, petting the dogs, cats, along with spending a bit of time here and there relaxing in the Golden House.

There wasn't much to do or even say to his family. He knew his parents were quite delighted to get rid of him for good, while his siblings were a hit or miss. He also wanted to visit a few more people before completely departing from Liyue. He never had any friends his age so there wasn't anything for him to say either. He wished he had at least a few friends to hang out with, but the kinds never talked too him.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

During the two weeks he had left, he would vividly remember dreams from the night before. Dreaming about things that was hard to understand, yet it seemed like all the dreams were related.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𒆙 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

There was a table, surrounded by seven people. Their faces being a blur, but one figure stood out. A small pony tail of gold and brown hair through the back of the hood worn. The conversation was also a blur, not many words were heard.

❝ 𝙤𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙚 ❞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𒆙 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

A large rock dragon, next to it was a standing man figure. With the same hair colors and hood, staring out at Liyue.

❝ 𝙖𝙯𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙝𝙖 ❞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𒆙 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

It seemed to be the archon war. Rock like spear formations were falling from the sky. There was a figure in the sky. That same exact figure, again.

❝ 𝙞 𝙖𝙢 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 ❞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𒆙 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

There was a female figure standing beside a male figure. Beautiful as the night sky. Bright as the sun. The male figure gazed at her.

❝ 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙯𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙜 ❞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𒆙 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The male figure looked a bit different. The hood was gone, now dresses in most black, gold, and brown. The hair color was beautiful as always. Plus, there were three other people a what seemed like a flying pixie.

❝ 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠 ❞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𒆙 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

There were three others along with the same male. There was a blond male that seemed to have appeared before. The other two figures seemed to be the yin and yang of each other.

❝ 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡 ❞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𒆙 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The man now stood there. Staring at who knows what. Time seemed to slow around him, he was in deep thought about the what he had just overheard.

❝ 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙞 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨 ❞

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

There was one week of times left. The (M/n) could fit some of the visions together, but he was never truest sure of what they meant. He wanted to find out more. So, he decided to spend his remaining time learning about what happened in the past, and more about the archon that once ruled one of the seven nations, who was the geo archon.

Books, stories, tales, anything he could find on the geo archon. His room soon filled with multiple books relating to Morax, or Rex Lapis. He was learning to much. The geo archon never failed to surprise him with his actions. Sure the geo archon could have been merciless at times, but there were things he also agreed with.

He understood quite a lot to his surprise. He also looked for first person stories when he ran into a few adeptus with his time left. He wanted to learn so much more, yet his time was so limited.

"My time is almost up, yet I want to learn so much more about you. I wonder, would I be able to talk to your spirit, or would I have an instant death. A heart is stone is still a heart, is it not?"

The boy closed his eyes, with those as his final thoughts about Rex Lapis, along with what might happen to him as he was the one to get married off.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

It's finally done. Hope you enjoyed it, and I

also want to thank you for the support.

#zhongli x male reader #zhongli #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact #male reader

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sirthisisa-wendys · 4 years ago

Note

Hiii may I request Getou + 5 + female reader please? Thank youuu and I hope you have an amazing day/night💗

This is a whole MOOD.

Here you go, sunshine! Thank you for requesting!

Son of My Enemy: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: none

The sounds of the Christmas party in full swing bring you joy.

For years, you begged your mother to let you plan the yearly event that drew the most elite crowd away from the stagnant shores of winter and onto the fertile grasses of the Mitsuhashi estate. This year, you were given full reign to do as you pleased: dress code, invitations, decor, food assortment, everything.

And it looks like months of planning led you straight to success. As the paparazzi attempts to catch photos of the most famous guests from outside, you make your rounds as the hostess for the evening, smiling at old family friends and introducing yourself to the newest addition to the elite crew: Maki and Mai Zenin. Nobara Kugasaki, Maki’s girlfriend, also joined them, her eyes shifting over the crowd as you approached them, but softening up once you mention Louis Vuitton and Emilio Pucci.

“They’re sweet girls,” you think aloud to your best friend, Mei Mei, who simply sips on her champagne and shrugs. “Do you thin--” A flurry of commotion attracts your attention to the front of the ballroom, and two tall males make their way into the room, dressed to the nines in tailor-made suits and simple accessories. Your chin instinctively tilts a little higher when you recognize the sons of two high-ranking Saiko-komons in the Takadashi syndicate.

One of them, Gojo Satoru, is the epitome of a cocky bastard. His strut, his white hair, his blue eyes, and his good looks make him the most popular of the two, despite rumors swirling around his lack of morality and lack of condoms. The other one, Geto Suguru, is less cocky, but more cunning. The black-haired fox face makes a great wingman, you note, noticing how he smiles at everyone in an unassuming way. They’re obviously the Yin and Yang of your age group, and they act like it, too.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n…” Gojo chants, rubbing his palms together when he sees you. “You’ve outdone yourself tonight. This will be a party everyone talks about for a week, then goes back to looking for the next party in time for New Year’s.” You want to smack the smirk off of his face and make it a party everyone talks about for years, but instead, you hold your resolve, letting Mei Mei respond.

“If you two hadn’t drug yourselves into the room, I’m sure they would have talked about the civility of the party compared to last year’s fiasco.” The memory of a destroyed oversized nutcracker flashes in your mind, and you press your lips together in displeasure.

“Why are you two here?” you wonder, and Suguru raises a brow.

“You act like we weren’t invited.”

“By who?” you ask, and Gojo whips out an invitation, the gold, and white color almost exactly like the ones you sent out in July. When you look at the paper, you’re surprised to see Gojo and Getou’s names in raised gold lettering on the invite. “I left you guys off the list this year,” you recall, distinctly remembering telling your assistant that Geto and Gojo would be marked off the list of potential guests and watching her draw a line through the names on her ever-shrinking list.

“You forged it,” Mei Mei grunts, snatching the card. She looks it over as well, then holds it up to the light to see if the watermark - copyrighted by your family - would appear. And sure enough, it did. “Hm. Looks like your brother or your mom has some explaining to do.”

“Yuta’s here?” Gojo presses, and you observe him standing on his tip-toes to see over the crowd easier. When he finds his target, he heads off in that direction, and you flash Mei Mei a look that begs her to follow him. She nods once, then disappears into the crowd. You assume Suguru has left as well, but when you turn around, you’re thoroughly surprised to see him still standing there, eyes drifting over your red sequined dress and strappy gold heels. He lets out an appreciative whistle and murmurs,

“Damn, y/n. You look beautiful tonight.”

“I always do,” you retort, turning away from Satoru’s sidekick while rolling your eyes. He follows you to the bar, where you order a rum and coke, hoping to be rid of the headache that followed you.

“You know, I would’ve thought you’d soften up by now. I didn’t expect you to still be miffed about the--”

“Can we not talk about this here?” you inquire, sighing deeply. Geto shrugs his shoulders and raises a brow.

“Would you rather we talk about it in the broom closet like last time?” You curl your lip up as the bartender delivers your drink, and you wonder if Suguru has any decency left in him as you turn away again, leaving him at the bar.

“I’d rather you leave me alone.”

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste,” he calls out, catching the attention of a few party-goers in the vicinity. You freeze, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks, and Suguru reappears in your line of vision, smirking. “I knew that would get you to pause. Now will you hear me out or will you continue to act like this? My ears can remember the way you scr--” You grab his wrist, growling,

“Meet me upstairs in the drawing-room in ten minutes.” His triumphant smile is enough to let you know he’ll be there.

_____________________________________________________________

The door opens and closes quickly behind you, and you turn to face the intruder with a frown.

“You’re hell-bent on embarrassing me, aren’t you?” Suguru walks past the various couches in the room to approach you, sliding off his dark blue jacket and casting it on a chaise lounge.

“Not as hell-bent as I am to be with you.”

“Just because we fucked while we were on vacation last year doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest. You don’t really think he’s a terrible person - or a bad lay - but his status as an associate with the Yakuza isn’t doing him any favors. But why would your mother (or brother, for that matter) invite him to the Christmas party?

“I’ve been pursuing you since then, and you’ve been brushing me off,” he notes, fingering the timepiece on the mantle. “But you and I both know why you’re not allowing me to get close to you.” When he rolls up his sleeves, you can see the various tattoos scattered about his forearms. “Just tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

You look over at the man in the firelight and consider telling him to go away and never contact you again, but that would negate your feelings. Sure, you felt attracted to Geto. That much you could admit to yourself. But could you admit that to him?

“I brought you a gift.” He motions toward his jacket, and you sit on the chaise lounge before digging around in the pockets. You pull out a medium-sized white box, and open it slowly, the gleam of diamonds catching your eye. A Vivienne Westwood tennis bracelet sits neatly inside, and you look up at Suguru, who leans on the mantle, eyes watching you carefully.

“You didn’t have to give me anything,” you whisper, but he shrugs, blinking.

“Consider it your Christmas present.”

“But I don’t think--”

“Don’t think too much of it. First, though, I want to apologize for causing a scene. Second, I want you to know that even though I’m part of the Takadashi clan…” Suguru runs a hand through his long hair, sighing. “It doesn’t mean that I’m going to make your life hell. I know what your mother went through with your father, but I swear that I’ll make sure you’re not put in harm’s way. Ever.”

“Yuta invited you,” you realize, and a lazy grin slides over his face.

“He called me and told me your trepidation.”

You shake your head, putting the box down on his jacket, and standing. “Why would my brother tell you that?” Suguru pushes off the mantle and walks toward you, hands now stuffed in his pockets. When he stops in front of you, you contemplate rising up on your tiptoes to reach his lips, but he tilts your chin up with his right hand instead.

“I guess he saw me pining after you and felt bad.”

“He’s not the type to take pity on anyone,” you counter.

“He’s also not the type to be in talks with the Takadashi clan about securing some sort of protection against the other clans, is he?” By now, Geto’s closed the space between you easily, pressing his other hand to the small of your back. “Besides, wouldn’t it be fun to play bodyguard and heiress? Have you tried that?” he murmurs against your lips, and you press yours to his in response.

“It wouldn’t be unheard of,” you reply softly, and he kisses you again, holding you flush against him while you two make out in the firelight of the drawing-room.

#geto x reader #getou suguru #getou x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #geto suguru

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it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 4 years ago

Text

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 13

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.6k

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

It was quiet, too quiet. The voices of your friends and peers had almost disappeared, screams and shouting all but a whisper on the breeze through the spindly trees. You were alone now. At the same time, you weren’t. You could hear the crackling of skin, the rattle as they breathed. The screeches they made as they got close and closer to the opening where you were standing. You knew they could see you, it would only be a matter of time before you could see them too. The bright red core glistening and moving like a flame, inside of their charcoal bodies. Their claws slick with venom, their faces contorted and twisted in pain. You felt no fear. You were oddly calm, sensing that somehow, they couldn’t harm you…. wouldn’t harm you. They moved in closer, branches and dry debris cracking beneath their heavy steps. You could see them now. Shadowy figures creeping out of the darkness and stepping into light. They seemed to regard you with a title of their heads, a look of wonder perhaps? The tallest of them all stepped forward, they were different from the rest.

Taller, much taller, broader. The red core more fierce and prominent. The top of its head almost had horns, that curled round into a kind of crown like shape. It was in front of you now. So close you could feel it’s warm breath fan your face. Your heart stuttered as it screeched out a single word.

“Daughter.”

——————————————————————————————————

You woke with a jolt, your heart pounding, eyes blurry, black swirls of magic surrounding the bed you shared with Saul. Your skin was slick with sweat, a scream escaping your chapped lips. Saul was hovering over you, his hands on either side of your arms, trying to shake you awake from the 3rd nightmare that week. You clung to him desperately as he incased you in his arms. It was still dark out. You’d had a nightmare every night this week so far but you did as you did the other two times, fell back to sleep in your mans arms and were going to ignore it when you woke up.

Morning seemed to come around faster than you wanted it to. You were always too cosy sleeping next to Saul. He was awake and up before you, his teacherly duties leading him away from the confines of your luxurious bed before you had the willpower to peak your eyes open just a fraction.

The morning was met with Bloom complaining again about the treatment of Beatrix. The killer fairy was still in her temporary jail cell, power restricting bracelets still very much around her wrists. You and Aisha shared a look, you rolled your eyes earning a snort from the water fairy and in return a glare from Bloom. She didn’t even know the girl! She thought she now had some sort of weird connection just because she might have been from the same place as her? She seemed to forget that Beatrix did in fact kill Callum to shimmy past Farah’s protective barrier. What she was protecting, you didn’t yet know. You had a feeling Bloom did though.

Stella had filled you in about what was going on back in your old Suit. Bloom was more on edge than ever and had been talking about ways to break the captive fairy free. Was she mad? It was lucky that Aisha and Terra had intervened, otherwise she would have been free by now. They didn’t need the added drama.

Your thoughts were pulled in a different direction as you sat with your friends in the outside courtyard. Aisha, Bloom, Terra and Musa were arguing about how Beatrix getting out would be a bad thing. You and Stella, well you were still just gossiping, catching up as always.

The whispers came all at once. You could see Stella’s mouth moving but you couldn’t actually hear her words, instead your ears were overcome by the whispers of the Burned ones that you knew were outside of the force field. Your eyes could see Specialists running back and forward, something was wrong, the school now seemed to be busy, people were worried and panicked. You noticed Saul off to one side with Farah, Ben and Marco, who…. had been attacked by a burned one by the looks of things. You don’t know what made you stand, but you did, it was like your legs were on autopilot, already aware of your destination even if your brain hadn’t decided yet. Stella kept asking where you were going but it was like you were in a trance. You ignored you friends pushing past them, walking at a steady pace across the grass and in the direction of the woods.

——————————————————————————————————

-Stella’s POV-

Stella was happy to be back at Alfea, even more so now that she knew Y/N was in fact her long lost cousin. Since the beginning she knew she had a special connection with the dark powered fairy, she liked to joke that she was her Yin to her Yang, light and dark.

She’d noticed a difference in her cousins behaviour and well being over the last couple of days. Something that hadn’t gone un-noticed by Silva either, who had in private, asked Stella to keep an eye out for her. Obviously he didn’t have to ask her twice, she naturally felt the need to make sure her cousin was okay anyway. Y/N’s eyes looked heavy, like she hadn’t been sleeping well, it was most likely an effect of the nightmares she’d been having which she’d conveniently forgot to tell anyone she’d been having.

Stella and Y/N finally had some alone time while the other fairies bickered. She frowned as she looked at the girl in front of her, she was completely spaced out. Her eyes had gone black, no white showing at all.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Stella’s hand came to rest on her cousins shoulder and gave it a slight shake. Nothing. It was like she was in a trance. She was even more concerned when her pleas went ignored and Y/N stood up, walking through the girls and towards the edge of the woods. She panicked, she couldn’t go outside the barrier again, it was far too dangerous. Marco had just been attacked and who knew how many Burned Ones there actually were by now. Reports had been coming in that they travelled in groups, it was almost like they were searching for something and she wasn’t about to let her friend be the next victim.

Stella did the only thing she could think of and ran in the direction of Silva and Miss Dowling. Musa and the others ran to Y/N, hoping that someway they’d manage to get through to her before she did something reckless.

The teachers were talking quietly to a few senior Specialists. From what Stella could make out, Laura, Marcos partner, was still somewhere in the woods, fighting off Burned Ones with a broken leg. She had managed to seek shelter in an underground bunker, one like they had used in the woodland training, the only difference was this one wasn’t within the safety of the school and if someone didn’t do something quick, Laura would be dead in a matter of minutes.

“I hate to interrupt but something is really wrong with Y/N.” That got their attention. But then so did the screaming and shouting of Stella’s Suit mates. She looked towards where she had last saw you. But you weren’t there anymore, instead, you were on the other side of the glimmering shield that saved you from harm.

-Your POV-

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the screams and pleading voice of your friends and you were kicking yourself for being where you were, but that was way way in the back of your mind. At the moment, you felt like you didn’t have control at all. Your feet were guiding you. The crackled breath of the Burned Ones could be heard all around you. They were right there, but you couldn’t see them… just like your dream.

Maybe it hadn’t been a dream at all, more like a premonition, for the next thing that happened, basically knocked you out of your magical trance. The largest of them all, King of the Burned Ones, stepped forward, horns upon his head twisted into a crown like shape, red fire seemed to burn in his core. You knew it was your father, or at least a version of the man who helped bring you to life. Something told you deep down.. it was him.

“Daughter, at last we meet.” The giant Burned One came to stand in front of you, you were now surrounded by others.

“What do you want, why are you here?” You were cut off by a snarling sound as shouts from Saul and the others could be heard getting closer.

“We are in a deal with a she Devil called Rosalind, after the deal is complete, we will come for you, so you can fulfil your destiny and sit upon the throne which is rightfully yours.”

“What deal? I’m not going anywhere with you! Why do you keep killing people!” The questions were meant with a gruff laugh.

“Why, because they’ve kept you from me long enough child. Mark my words, once the deal is fulfilled, we will come for you.”

The voices of your loved ones were closer and closer, you turned you head back to see if you could see anyone through the foliage.

When you turned back, your father was right in front of you, his hot breath fanning your face, in seconds, the Burned ones jumped you all at once and you screamed as you felt their talons slice against your flesh.

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

Hi please don't hate me lol. I've gone back to work so when I get home I'm always tired atm so trying my best to write and all that <3 It's a little shorter than usual but I hope you still enjoy. As always please let me know what you think in the comments and like/re-blog/commet/follow! xx <3

CHAPTER 14 ----- CLICK HERE

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midnightmoonkiss · 5 years ago

Text

Evermore.

Idol!Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Summary: Strangers brought together by music, fueling each others dream. You truly were living the life.

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Day 30 of the Izumonth Collab!

P.S. I have a very small grasp on what an idol truly is so ples kpop stans dont come for me ahhh,,,, i tried fdgbhhj

Just To Clarify:

Reader and Izu meet in a cafe years prior!

They built themselves from the ground up!

Lord help me i dunno what’s going on

Perm. Tag List:

@coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia

The roaring of screaming fans, the inconsistent flashing of blinding lights, music making the ground shake and heart jump, stealing your breath away and intoxicating your being with every lyric sung from the bottom of their hearts.

To some, every concert could be classified as the same, the pattern repeating itself until it becomes nothing but a chore instead of a passion.

To some, music becomes something to pass time with, something to hug yourself with in the early hours of the morning after a night filled with tears and no sleep, eyes burning with exhaustion.

Every person has a different answer to the same question,

“What is music to you?”

A question asked to you one calm, summer night in a run-down cafe by a handsome stranger with green hair, eyes unforgettably curious and brimming with fascination, sparkling with moon dust as their silver beams shine down on him through that freshly polished window.

He stood there, an enigma to you and all those present in the place at the time.

It was unexpected, not something you would count on being asked by someone you didnt even know.

But yet, your heart had lurched forward, captivated by the determination and child-like curiosity resting on his soft, freckled face.

The words slipped from your lips parted by astonishment before you had the chance to think as if they were being dragged from the dream buried deep within yourself.

“My life..” you had whispered so quietly you had sworn he couldn’t hear you, but a smile lit up his face, the first of many you’d unknowingly see on him in your lifetime.

“So live it.” Such a cheery response had caught you off guard back then, making confusion swirl in your gut as to just what he meant, dreams resurfacing to hopeful fingertips.

Ever since then, a day in the back of your head but never one you forgot, you gave your dream your all once more, letting lyrics fly across the page as you scribbled them down in the heat of passion, inspired by random things and editing until the words flowed smoothly enough for him to sing.

And by God could he sing.

He had told you at the time he was nothing but a mere hopeful kid, fighting his way to the top with some friends, wanting to make a difference in the world with his own words and his own voice, but it was a true miracle that your minds intertwined similarly to the way your hands often did, finishing thoughts before the words even slipped out, conversations from addictingly familiar eye contact alone.

A match made in heaven as some had described it, two peas in a pod, yin and yang, Complimenting each other and yet being polar opposites, swimming harmoniously together in the vast sea of life.

One who shined brightest in a crowd, and the other who thrived on the sidelines.

But perhaps that’s just what made your bond stronger, for together, you were grey. Not suffocatingly bright, and not depressingly blue.

Just yourselves, the truest form of love there could be.

It didn’t take long for their group to be known, emerging from the dark waves like water crashing on a rock breaching the oceans stormy surface, a breath of fresh air as lyrics and ideology comforted thousands.

Evermore was their name, bred from the desire to inspire people, remind all who listen that there was more to life than what they can see alone.

Everyday you were blessed to have met that man when you did, lucky that he was willing to embrace your flaws and help you step over your self-doubt and thrive where you thrived best, smiling happily backstage as you watched the people you adore sing songs you helped create and continue to encourage all who listened.

It was your dream come true, to create music.

A dream you often feared you would one day wake from, blinking through tear-filled eyes at that old red booth sitting across from you at that cafe.

Those were the nights you would always awake in your lover’s arms, him fast asleep with drool running down the opened corner of his mouth, but yet somehow providing reassurance in that relaxed face of his, messy green curls hugging his cheeks in the sweetest way possible.

You’d always kiss his chin in those moments, letting yourself melt like ice on a hot, sunny day all over again.

Years had passed since your first encounter with him, years you would always treasure, for how could you not?

He was a ray of light in the darkest years of your life, and you never would have succeeded if it hadnt been for his firm, helping hand.

Together, you were whole.

Even now, as he’s on stage, singing his heart out in the way he always had with that same look of enthusiasm and boyish glee.

The stage boomed with each beat drop or thump of the drums, the screaming fans a mere buzz from the soundproofed backroom where you and a few others watched the performance from a flat-screen television.

Cameras never fully captured his true beauty, despite being in HD.

No, though they captured the glow of his soft skin under the shifting lights, they never could quite catch the aura of enthusiasm he gave off or the twinkle of hope in those deep green eyes you always found yourself getting hopelessly lost in. An endless forest, no, a jungle of harmonious greens. Dewy, doe-like eyes always providing comfort to all those who are able to peer into them.

Its almost as if that’s why people are entranced with him the moment they meet them beyond the screen concealing his soul.

Some could easily say he was open to the world, large arms ready to embrace its flaws wholly, but in truth, he already has. Accepting the world as it is and seeking change little by little in ways he prays could help aid in making a difference, but one human could only ever do so much. That’s the part that wasn’t easy for him to understand about all of this, about his life and others.

He can’t always help everyone, and even he has limits. But no one wants to accept the boundaries put in place by something you cannot comprehend.

It would anger him sometimes, and inspire a new song of heartbreak he would write alone in the back of the tour bus or his office at the home you shared, mindlessly chewing his pen out of frustration until the ink would splatter on his cheek.

He always tried so hard, and most people could see that.

They admired him, wanted to be like him, singing the very essence of his being out loud every chance he could.

He and his group members made music that provided the saying ‘it’ll be okay, one day. Until then, I’ll hold your hand,’ even despite it at times being aggressive and borderline rock instead of pop.

They all worked hard, and it paid off.

You were just lucky to be able to help in any way you could, simultaneously living your dream and aiding others in their own.

It truly was a blissful life you now experienced, all thanks to him, Izuku Midoriya, the man you swore held your heart oh-so gentle in the palms of his scarred hands.

Little do most know, but you held his heart just as gently.

“Looks like they’re finishing up.” Tenya Iida, their manager, pointed out whilst adjusting his glasses in that way he always did when the hours of music streaming through speakers was coming to a close.

He was right, they had just performed their last number for the night. You smiled automatically, knowing just what was to come next.

At the end of every concert, Izuku would always give a passionate speech composed entirely on the spot after observations he made throughout the show in the back of his mind. His fans knew this, and they all immediately quieted down to the point where you couldnt even hear them.

Most of the time he would say the same things at the shows because most crowds are the same- but sometimes something strange and completely unique would catch his perceptive eye, and he would always point it out with a cheery laugh as sweat poured down his face.

It would always cause a roar of screams and laughter before he and his friends signed off for the night, leaving blissful memories in those who watched the performance.

As they all bowed on the television, you were quick to hop up, waiting in front of the couch for them to file into the place.

And soon enough, he came in, sighing happily as he wiped at his face with a towel given to him before entering.

His eyes easily found your own in the suddenly crowded room, almost as if they were pulled together by magnetism, and just like it, your feet began to move on instinct.

Arms wrapping around his torso, your lips brushed over his own parted ones before molding together in a sweet, congratulatory kiss.

A tradition, if you will.

One that you had skipped once and ended up with a pouty Izuku all night.

But you typically remembered, seeing as you usually wanted a kiss as well.

He always smiled against you during these, one hand resting on your hip as the other cupped your jaw, the pad of his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Ignoring the chorus of disgusted ‘ew’s’, you repeatedly kissed his addicting mouth with a smile of your own.

Pulling away, you slowly opened your eyes just in time to see him swipe a tongue over his reddened lips.

“Cotton candy lip gloss?” he guessed the flavor you wore breathlessly, voice hoarse from exaggerated use as his eyes met yours once more, relaxed and filled with nothing but unyielding love for you and you alone.

“Mm~ not quite.” you teased, moving your arms up so they wrapped around his neck instead, not caring that he was sweaty and warm.

You knew he loved these games, though. He enjoyed figuring out things on his own, putting puzzle pieces together in that mind that of his ran at ninety miles per hour.

Leaning in, he pecked your lips once more, smacking his lips together as he tried to figure out the taste.

“Bubblegum?”

“Yep!” you giggled as his arms dropped to wrap around your own waist, his forehead coming down to rest on your readily awaiting shoulder.

His dampened green curls tickled at your cheeks, the delirious smell of honey from his shampoo and natural musky scent of sweat overtaking your senses for a mere moment as your fingers combed through his locks.

You were hooked on having him in your arms.

You wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in your own worlds as the love you held for each other sparkled around you like stardust.

It was just you and him, no one else.

You sighed contently, his own hum of approval immediately following as he pulled your body flushed against his own.

“This is highly unprofessional!”

You were slowly brought out of your world as the words reached your ears, not bothering to look behind you to see a fuming Iida.

Izuku, on the other hand, shot his head up, frantically waving his arms around as you clung to him like a sloth, “S-sorry!” He apologized, knowing full well this would happen again at the next concert, just as it always does.

Truly, you couldnt help it.

It was hard not to be wrapped up in his strong arms at all points of the day.

A loud sigh sounded behind you, the tapping of what could only be Iida’s pen on his clipboard whilst thinking.

“I’ll get everything wrapped up, you all look exhausted.”

“You could say that again.” Todoroki huffed, the thump of him scuffing his boots against the carpeted floor just barely reaching your ears.

“That crowd sure was enthusiastic, but matching it definitely drained me… ahh..” Uraraka murmured, the distinguishable sound of someone plopping onto a couch being heard with the squeak of leather.

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad, you guys!” Came Izuku’s signature enthusiastic reply, grip on you tightening as his own adrenaline began to pump in his veins again, “There were so many coordinated groups wearing the same thing! And, and those dances they kept doing! I’ve never seen an entire crowd successfully do the wave before! I mean, did you guys see that! They did it!! All for us no less.. I’m so happy~” Izukus cheek rubbed against your own as he sighed blissfully, no doubt amazed by the dedication of his fans.

“I guess that was.. kinda awesome.” Ochaco giggles tiredly.

“Well, I’ve set up four-star hotel rooms nearby for you all. Two to a room. You all may choose who you bunk with, of course, but try not to wreck the rooms.. Again.” He was more than likely glaring at Kaminari who was in the back of the room, considering he did have a little after party of sorts last time and ended up destroying a dresser.

Thank goodness for the shared rooms, though, you knew with complete certainty that the other bed in your room would go unused. It’s gotten to the point where it was impossible to sleep without Izuku’s arms wrapped around you, and you him, as he relented one night over a phone call. Hell, it was the entire reason you were even brought along on the world tour, which he tried to convince wasnt the only reason.

‘You’re apart of the team!’, ‘We can’t function without you!’, ‘You make better soba than they do.’

Supposedly there were more reasons, but for now, you just wanted to indulge in reason number one.

A chorus of thanks followed, and suddenly you were being dragged out of the room by a hyper Midoriya.

That adrenaline typically ran through his body for a short ten minutes after a show, so you had no doubts that he would be crashing soon, but it was adorable to see him so energetic like a little puppy.

You lived for this, to see him smile at his well-earned success.

The walk to the tour bus out back was frantic, rushed, and definitely panic-driven as all the members not only tried to blend in with the shadows but also avoid fans that could easily start a rampage, especially since the bodyguards were lagging a bit behind.

But it was the fault of the lively and desperate twenty-year-olds, and not their own.

It certainly did bring a hint of rebellious glee thrumming in your soul, making you nearly choke on a laugh.

After successfully avoiding the press and fans after getting off the bus at the hotel, you were quick to retrieve the key from the front desk to your two-bed hotel room four floors up, stepping into the elevator with relieved hums.

“Good show tonight, guys!” Izuku pumped his fist in the air, other hand holding your own as he gave his exhausted team members his signature, award-winning smile.

They returned the gesture with significantly less enthusiasm, but it still made the skin around his brilliant eyes crinkle with joy.

With a final ‘goodnight’, he swiftly opened the door for you both, shutting and double locking it- a slight paranoid habit he had, before glancing over at you with tired eyes.

It was always so strange to you how he could always feign energy until completely alone with you.

It was nice to see him let his guard down in a way he didnt typically do, even if they were all his best friends.

He trudged over to you, having sat yourself down on the bed, just to collapse beside you with a thwump, his legs giving out beneath him as he slumped down onto his knees.

“Tired?” you questioned playfully, petting at his head and untangling locks here and there.

He hummed in contentment, voice muffled by the bed as he spoke, “nah..”

He clearly was, but you could only roll your eyes half-heartedly.

“I need to bathe.. I stink..”

“You stink.” you agreed with a nod, despite not truly believing it, only for him to whine loudly.

“How about a bath, stinky boy? You seem too tired for a shower.” You feared he would collapse in a shower from standing for hours already, and no doubt his feet were killing him, even if he didn’t audibly say so, which he never really did.

Perhaps it was a downfall of sorts, how he never let the attention go on him for too long, or ever really talked about problems unless brought up and forced out.

He certainly was stubborn from a childhood of being forced to keep quiet, but luckily enough, you could always see through that mask he wore.

It was a blessing he trusted you enough to do so, and you could say with complete certainty that that thought only made your heart yearn for him even more.

“A bath sounds good..” he flopped his head on its side so he could stare up at you, “Do you think they have bubble bath?”

“If not, a regular one will do you just fine. Either way, you’ll get clean.”

“Just me? Oh no. You’re joining me!” he shot back, not giving you time to protest, not that you would have, as he pounced on your being, shoving you down to the bed as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“S-stop it~ that tickles!” you giggled, squirming beneath him as he purposefully began to blow on your ticklish neck, fingers even coming up to tickle at your sides. You couldnt help but squeal out as he tickled you relentlessly with a mischievous smile on his handsome face.

“I-Izuku!! S-stop! Gaha! Ahhhh! N-no nonon!” you could barely breathe you were laughing so much, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes as you fought to push his larger frame away.

Snorts began to tear through your nose, much to his own bemusement and your utter horror at the atrocious sounds, and yet he smiled so sincerely at you.

Having enough, and knowing you needed to get things done, you quickly put all your strength into your back and arms, successfully catching him off guard and flipping him over so that you straddled his waist and he stared up at you in shock.

A blush burned at his cheeks upon noticing your victorious smirk, his lips pressing into a thin line as he concealed the gasp he was sure to let out.

“Now now, baby, stop messing around. The stinky boy needs a bath.” and just like that, his head popped back onto the bed with a groan, cheeks still rosey.

“Alright, alright... I’ll run the bath.” He decided, already using his arms to try and push his upper body up, to which you quickly pushed him down again, hands against his chest.

“Ah, ah, ah~ I’m doing it. Rest here for a minute. I know your feet hurt, so let me, okay?” even if you could be tough and playful sometimes, or distant and cold, you always had a very warm, caring heart. And he definitely could see that in the way you interact with others and how you were so much more with him.

He treasured it in a way that could be hard to understand to some.

Was it so wrong to be completely and utterly in love?

It was hard not to be when at times it seemed like you were the only tame thing in his life these days.

He was sure he would struggle to find one, similar to his groupmates, had he not stumbled across you that one summer night.

You were certainly one to blend in, conveniently sitting under a light that didnt work, just to hide in the shadows with your dark hoodie as you lazily ate some greasy fries.

He was tempted to pass you, grab the food that he had ordered via phone call and get out and back to his training session, but there was something about you that made it feel as though he couldn’t leave without saying something. Almost as if his very being was being pulled towards you in a way he couldn’t understand.

And so, he walked past you again, glancing down at the notebook you had wide open and noticing the lyrics you had scribbled down, along with the messages beside them.

‘Thats stupid.’ ‘Oh what a failure you are,’ ‘What type of song even is this?’ and many more harsh words you had clearly written yourself, smudged with black ink and what could only be tears as you stared off out the window.

You were a songwriter, no doubt, and it seemed as if you were close to giving up on your dreams, if you hadn’t already.

Or perhaps he was making a huge mistake by guessing, but he couldn’t help but want to intervene, it was in his nature to be nosy, and he was forever grateful he did.

Because now, you’re by his side, stuck together like glue you made yourselves.

Time had passed so quickly as he laid there on the bed, letting his sore body relax as he listened to you fumble around and the water splashing into the tub.

To some, taking a bath in a hotel was a strange thing to do, but with a hotel as nice and clearly clean as this, there wasn’t too much to worry about. Besides, your own anxiety always made you wash the tub real quick yourself.

Which is why he wanted to run the bath, knowing full well you would do this. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing.

But alas, he was too tired to truly complain.

He just wanted to relax, get clean, and then snuggle with his beloved in a bed that was far too soft for him not to think about stealing if just for a moment.

Eventually, you emerged from the bathroom, only in a tank top and undies, and he couldn’t help but eye you up, too delicious not to. My, he was sure lucky.

“Bath’s ready! Fortunately, this place had some bubble bath. I think you’ll like the scent, Zuzuku.” Walking over to in front of his damn near lifeless body, you grabbed his hands, wheezing as you struggled to pull his muscular torso up.

His arms instantly wrapped around you again, face nuzzling itself on your chest, inhaling your sweet scent.

He was tempted to just pull you onto his lap and fall asleep, but alas..

“Up.” you sternly stated, gently pushing his head back just to lean down and peck his nose.

Pulling away, you walked back to the bathroom, stopping just at the door.

Fingers gripping the hem of your shirt, you swiftly pulled it up and over, looking back to the flushed boy with an amused grin, “Come join me.”

Seeing him promptly jump up, you giggled to yourself as you waited for him, arms crossed over your bare chest.

He jumped into the bathroom on one foot, trying to pull his pants off whilst fumbling around like a headless chicken.

“Well aren’t you desperate.”

“I just want to hold you in my arms as soon as possible,” he admitted, looking over at you with a pouty face so innocent you couldn’t help but squeal on the inside.

You watched as he shed himself of all his clothes, not feeling the least bit shy at his nude self, having seen it enough times for it to not be sexual in such a domestic setting.

He hummed approvingly as foot stepped into the tub, hands gripping the sides as he lowered himself into the relaxing, warm waters filled with iridescent bubbles.

Looking over at you, he outstretched his hand, waiting.

And so, shedding your underwear, you grabbed his hand, him helping you not slip and fall as you settled in between his legs, back to chest as your head leaned on his broad shoulder, exhaling.

Kissing your cheek, he whispered “Thank you,” appreciatively.

“Mhm~” you hummed, letting your eyes slip closed as you took in this moment.

Him, the smell of the delicious vanilla cake bubble bath, and the soft lofi-hop you had playing from your phone on the counter wrapping the room in a sweet melody.

He too took this moment to relax again, letting the warm water soothe his aching joints and muscles, hands rubbing up and down your arm, the suds in the bath making you both slippery. He always enjoyed feeling your skin whenever given the chance, it was such an intimate act he cherished, seeing how he was the only one who could do it.

Time was so easy to slip by whenever he was with you, soaking in the moment of feeling you against him.

It brought a sense of normality back to his life, despite it now being barely normal at all.

And so is the life of an idol as they call it, though he wasnt quite sure how that word sat in his stomach.

He always thought of it as a figure to worship, and not him by any means.

Apparently, it’s what they called Asian band members these days, or at least that’s what he presumed.

Even if he spent nights researching the word, he was still met with loopholes and gaps he couldnt fill in.

Such a confusing term.

Nonetheless, he didnt say he wasn’t one since he didn’t exactly have the best grasp on what it is.

Regardless, it felt nice to not have to keep a forced smile on his face, but instead a genuine and relaxed one.

He found that most days he could only relax fully around you.

You always had something about you that calmed his nerves and cured any storm built from stress raging in his head.

Who knew being an ‘idol’ could be so vexing?

Strict schedules, a fairly controlled life, tight budgets, always having to be on his feet, but he had to admit it, it wasn’t nearly as hard as he heard what most groups went through.

He was lucky his friend from high school was willing to invest in this group, and it truly did pay off, seeing as they were quite popular these days.

Though he technically was loaded with money, he never bothered to spend the majority of it on himself, always putting it back into the band or donating it to charities he believed in. The fraction he had left allowed him to buy just what he needed, and some gifts he buys throughout the year just to surprise you with on anniversaries or birthdays or holidays, much to your own dismay.

And though he may be this figure others look up to, you never thought of him in such a way, out of reach and someone to scream at with joy whenever you saw him. You saw him as an average joe, a regular human with emotions. It could have been because you met him before he became a sensation, but you never got blinded by his success like he had seen before on television.

There were so many things to love about you, but most of all, he adored how you grounded him.

Even now, as his arms hold you against him and water softens your skin, he feels at home in a way he didn’t feel very often before. Home was just.. always with you. He couldn’t have a home without you in it anymore.

“I love you..” he breathed out, lips pressing against the damp skin of your neck.

You turned to stare deeply into his intense eyes filled with nothing but love, nose brushing against his own, “I love you, too.”

And so, you finished up the relaxing bath, knowing if you stayed too long you’d both fall asleep and never wake until the morning with pruney skin. It wouldn’t be the first time.

You offered to wash him, and he offered to wash you, giving you both the excuse to run your hands over each other’s body in a sensual way without it being lewd. Besides, you adored feeling his muscles and warm skin, something seemingly common in modern-day bands, but he had always said it was for himself and not just to appeal to fans or any contracts.

It was never about that.

Just a personal goal to help love himself, though you always assured he would look handsome to you no matter what, you understood his need to do this for himself.

After rinsing off, you carefully stood from the tub, offering him a hand before drying the both of yourselves off just to use as an excuse to hug. Seeing as how you both had forgotten to get a change of clothes from the bus, rooky mistake, you were doomed to spend the night in hotel robes, which wasn’t too bad either. Waddling out the room, Izuku nose-dived headfirst into the sheets as you grabbed a glass of water.

Upon him deciding you were taking too long, despite it not even being a minute, he made grabby hands at you, pouting and whining for “(Y/N)’s famous cuddles” which only brought another blush to your face that never seemed to stop smiling when around this absolute angel of a man.

Sipping at the glass of cold water, you slowly made your way to the bed, just to tease him.

“Can’t you move faster.” Izuku groaned, tossing an arm dramatically over his eyes as if watching you move so slowly was killing him

A knife to his frail heart.

He is dead

R.I.P. famous singer and songwriter, Izuku Midoriya.

Killed because his girlfriend was being too slow.

A tragedy in four parts-

His breath was suddenly squeezed from his lungs as you flopped down on him like a fish, his arm flying off his face just to be met with your damp hair tickling his nose, causing the poor fellow to sneeze.

“Ewww! Izukuuuu!” you whined, pulling your head back to mess with your hair with a look of dissatisfaction etched on your features as he just breathily chuckles.

“Aww~ Don’t be mad at me, princess! That was your own fault, you know my nose is ticklish!” though his argument did outweigh your own, you refused to accept it with a humph as you turned your head, puffing your cheeks up and crossing your arms over your robe covered chest.

Surprisingly, the robes were quite comfortable, almost like sleepwear themselves despite being meant for something different than sleeping in. They were white and prone to stains, but they sure were fuzzy and warm.

You had no doubts they would be gone in the morning from the downfall of two humans who are both personal body heaters sleeping together.

Oh, if only you had brought your light sleepwear. Nothing wrong with waking up naked, is there?

“I’ve waited long enough, cuddle me!” Izuku’s arms were outstretched, waiting for you to collapse in his arms instead of sitting on top of his belly, far too far away!

Amused, you nodded, reaching over to the nightstand, switching off the light. The room would’ve fallen into complete darkness had the moon not been shining through a sliver of a crack in the curtains on the far side of the quiet room.

Settling down, you rested your body on top of his own, letting his arms wrap loosely around your waist as he nuzzled his cheek against your own once more. Such a cuddle bug.

It only took a minute before you decided this was uncomfortable and shifted so you were both facing eachother on your sides, your own body close to the curtains, and his close to the door.

He always liked to be closest to the door, so in case of a break-in, he could protect you.

It was endearing in the sweetest of ways, though it made you wonder what went on inside his head sometimes.

Though you prided yourself on being able to understand him completely, you accepted the fact that some things you will never know about him, and some things he will never know about you.

But then again, everyone is entitled to their own secrets, right?

“I’m so glad I met you..” he sighed out dreamily, voice growing husky as drowsiness seeped in. His warm fingers traced over your cheek as the lights of the moon reflected in his eyes, giving you just enough brightness that you could see his content smile.

“I’m really glad you decided to stalk me.”

“I- I didnt-!”

“Hahaha!” you cut him off with laughter, his own following suit.

His breath was suddenly fanning across your lips, and you felt his own soft pair brush against your own, lip-gloss free ones before fully connecting them.

Kissing him had to be one of the best parts about dating him because boy did he know how to make you swoon by his lips alone.

“Goodnight.” you pulled away, pecking his nose as he giggled.

“Goodnight.” he repeated, arms wound around your body and head tucked under his chin.

Oh how sweet life could be if you took a chance.

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kiss-my-freckle · 4 years ago

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1x1 Rewatch: Aperitif

Gif set can be found here.

I’m only gonna do one episode rewatch a day. I like to be as detailed as I can, comment about things that stand out to me, so my posts end up longer than I’d like them to be. That’s aside from my rewatches taking a bit of time because I note things as I watch the episode. Expect a gif set with each rewatch. They’ll focus on Will’s character.

Perfect pilot opening. They start off with a crime scene reanactment to show how Will Graham's mind works. He's teaching a class, showing them how he catches killers. Psychoanalyzing 101. Every crime scene reenactment Will does, it appears as though he's the one doing the killing. He doesn't think about killing people - yet. He's more like Morgan on Criminal Minds, but he appears to be working random murder cases rather than serial killers at the open of the show.

This entire series is centered around Will's being. He has no idea who he is, and he's so afraid of his own mind that he refuses to fully understand it. He avoids a psychological profile because of that fear, and is just as terrified of letting others see him or even speak about him and the way his mind works. This often puts Will on the defense. Insert Jack Crawford. The Evil Minds Research Museum.

Religious aspect is heavy, but fitting when it comes to life and death and the mind of a serial killer. Pure empathy allows Will to understand anyone and everyone. It makes him perfectly suitable for Hannibal. The evidence can only take the FBI so far, Will's empathy takes them further. He starts popping Aspirins almost immediately because Jack is setting his mind on fire. Add in nightmares that cause Will to pull his shirt off because he wakes in a sweat. So hot, he has to dip his face in a sink full of cold water. Expect this to become an issue.

Animals, that's where many serial killers initially direct their violence. Will is perfectly capable of raising a house full of dogs, so he doesn't sell as a serial killer, only a man who has the inability to connect with others because he doesn’t understand himself. He understands animals as he understands people. Those dogs are his family, and you can tell he’s most comfortable with them. More on the dogs once I hit the third season.

Alana Bloom spends most of her time lying to herself. She claims she can't be in a room alone with Will because she has a professional curiosity about him. Too much time in a room alone with him, she's liable to tear his clothes off, she’s sexually attracted to Will. Her conversation with Jack about his fear pushes to the end of the series. A lot of the pilot episode pushes forward that way. "It's the price of imagination." Will no longer fears his imagination in the final two, that's why Hannibal said he's both free and damned to imagine anything, and Will handed his pet Chilton to Francis.

A lion in the room. Hannibal's comment to Franklin is purposeful. While everyone else sees Will as a lamb, Hannibal sees a lion the instant they meet. More from the pilot that pushes to the end of the series. I could list the many ways it pushes to the end of the series. Just watch the pilot and the final two to see what I mean. For Hannibal, it's love at first sight. His eyes devour Will. Too much time in a room alone with him, he's liable to tear his clothes off too. He also fully understands Will's mind at first sight, which he considers just as beautiful.

Will has a problem separating because he has no forts in his mind. He can't protect what he loves from what he sees and learns, so they meld. Difficult for Will because he's not just learning about these killers, he's learning about himself. Mere minutes of conversation, and Hannibal knew exactly what Will needed. Will sees the beautiful side of a cannibal. Hannibal shows him the ugly side of a cannibal. Hobbs' cared-for victims needed to suffer. Take her lungs while she's still alive. Toss her into a field like waste instead of making pillows or putty. Now Will sees the killer’s face. Hannibal had to show Will the other side. Field kabuki on the cliff in the series finale, and Will thought it beautiful.

Hannibal knows exactly what he did to Will. So much, he smiles wide as he eats his dinner. So much, he bypasses Jack because he wants to see Will after Will saw his crime scene. One of my favorite scenes of the series because it's the complete opposite of their cliff scene, both very intimate in their own way. He shows up at a time when Will is still in his t-shirt and boxers because he’s still sleeping. On the cliff, they're both naked.

The ugly and the beautiful. The worst and the best. Positive and negative. Night and day. Evil and good. Devils and gods. All of this is themed in the series. I could gif these opposites, but it would take a while because there are so many. Hannibal and Will are Yin and yang. Will very much has Hannibal’s appetite. It's the sausage, not the eggs that he said is delicious. Like parents who lie about where the meat came from, or cutting the vegetables so small their kids can't see them in the spaghetti sauce. Will has no problem eating human. Knowing where it came from bothers him. He’s gonna find Hannibal interesting for the same reason Hannibal finds him interesting.

The Minnesota Shrike isn't Hannibal. He only did it that way to help Will. I'll touch more on that when they start showing Hannibal's actual crime scenes. He wants to know how Will sees him. That's why he asked if Will is reconstructing his fantasies and what kind of problems he has. Will then asks how Hannibal sees him. “Have Dr. Lecter draw up a psychological profile. You seemed very impressed with his opinion.” This switch made possible because of Hannibal’s comment about Jack. Will is now getting a private opinion from a psychologist without the psychoanalyzing.

Will doesn't see himself as a mongoose, so he has a confused look on his face when Hannibal says it. "Peeking behind the curtain." Like saying he's peeking behind the veil, as Bedelia spoke of being with Hannibal. Hannibal is smiling because he sees a future with Will. Hannibal purposefully warns Hobbs. Not because he wants to save him, but because he knows what he has to do. Will has yet to kill, so he has yet to know how it feels to kill. Hannibal wants that for him... to feel powerful. To feel like God does when he collapses a church roof.

I love the end scene with Abigail. A man who doesn't even socialize with his students, drawn to a child. Juxtaposition, comparing these two lambs and their relationships with their fathers. That's why I fully believe Will's father helped him suppress his killer instincts. Unlike Abigail's father, who fully involved her. But I also like the scene because of Will's acceptance. He wanted to meet with Abigail alone, to connect with her, but Hannibal's presence caught him off guard. While he can't stop psychoanalyzing because that's who he is, Hannibal already told Will what he saw of him. There's a slow build-up of trust in this episode, from one scene to the next. That's why Will has no problem seeing Hannibal for therapy in the second episode. The one person who could help him through the event he just experienced is the one person who was there with him when he experienced it.

Jack is a problematic character. “Maybe we shouldn't poke him like that, Doctor. Perhaps a less, uh - direct approach.” That’s what season one becomes. Jack poking Will just by sending him to these crime scenes. As abusive as it is, Hannibal trying to take a different approach so Will can better understand who he is because he knows what the job is doing to him. If Jack isn’t gonna let the lion sleep, then Jack is gonna see the lion wide awake. That’s basically the way Hannibal sees it.

Three scenes in this episode that stood out to me where Jack’s character is concerned. Adjusting Will’s glasses... oy. More to Hannibal’s comment about seeing Will as a fragile little teacup. He might as well bend down and tie Will’s shoes for him, as if Will is incapable of doing it himself. A show of superiority in the bathroom. So much, he forces an agent to use the ladies room. This is while Will is trying to cool down. He’s on fire, and Jack refuses him a single moment in the bathroom. My biggest issue was his comment to Alana, who already told him Will is her friend. “Ah, it seems a shame not to take advantage and academically speaking.” Because that’s what friends do, they take advantage of you. This sold me for Jack’s character and what I expected of him. He’s gonna use Will until he can’t use him any more. And he does. That’s why Jack is a fixed character. He’s there to be the force that causes Will the desire to change.

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saedii-gilwraeth-simp · 5 years ago

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Another World - TDC Holidays - Day 7

I’m experimenting with a new style so tell me what you think!

DAY 7

AU: BAND

POV: MAGAZINE

‘Queens of Music - The rise of girl group Reign’ by Mathilde Seer - Sunpool Magazine

The Rolanth pub is alive and bouncy tonight as new kids on the block Reign take the stage. I sit at the bar and laugh along as singer and guitarist Arsinoe interacts casually with the crowd before the start of their set, while her fellow bandmates warm up their instruments. She is bubbly and shockingly alive as the dimmer lights hit her iconic black and red half-face mask.

The crowd eats it up, cheering as eventually drummer Katharine starts their beat. Bassist Mirabella grabs the attention of every person in the room as she joins in. Their synchronicity is currently unmatched by any band their age (hell even bands older than them) and their set roars into action.

The Queen sisters rose into the music scene nearly a year ago and I’m lucky enough to be one of the few journalists invited to the pub gigs they play in between sold out stadiums. Their set is filled with their own self written hits as well as countless classics that everyone knows (even an improvised cover of Bohemian Rhapsody) and the crowd just gets higher and higher.

When I’m allowed back stage at the end of the night, or early morning (there were a lot of impromptu encores), I’m unsurprised to see the sisters still completely wired. Katharine and Arsinoe (who is hanging upside down on the couch) are playing a game of UNO that is surprisingly intense and Mirabella looks like she is trying and failing to meditate. The background speaker is playing what sounds like Hey Violet’s ‘Guys My Age’ at a volume that is just short of too loud.

Arsinoe looks up when I walk in, smiling and flipping herself right way up, standing with a skip. She’s taken her mask off and her deep facial scars catch the light of the backroom, but her smile is infectious as she hugs me, UNO cards still in hand.

I’m lucky enough to have been offered to travel with the sisters for the next stop in their tour and I can tell already it will be as chaotic as all else, especially as Katharine yells at Arsinoe to “get her ass back to the game”. I take the seat Mirabella subtly offers me and prepare myself for the road.

The next morning, I wake on the tour bus before the triplets and prepare to interview the three of them. Mirabella’s the first to rise, stretching to touch the ceiling of the bus and apologising for not waking up earlier. She grabs a protein bar and comes and sits down across from me. I start with their break into the music scene, the Quickening Music Festival, which they shouldn’t have been playing in and everyone I talk to agrees they definitely crashed illegally.

“Our start to the music industry was definitely one that could have gotten us in trouble, mostly because Arsinoe takes opportunities where they come, no matter how hair-brained they are,” Mirabella tries to sound mad, but she actually sounds like a proud older sister, which she is. Her protective nature is well known in the fandom and is the subject of many journalistic questionings and internet memes that, when mentioned, gains a serene and agreeing nod.

Speaking of serenity, I am quickly learning that Mirabella is the most calm musician I have ever met, and when I mention this, Mirabella just laughs.

“Compared to my sisters, sure. But I have my days, just like any one else,” at that exact moment, a loud thump comes from the bunk area and Katharine stumbles out a minute later, rubbing her hip. She doesn’t speak and I’m vaguely reminded of a zombie. But, a really short one. My interview with Mirabella ends there as she stands to check on her sister. Quintessential older sibling.

Katharine is my next interviewee and she tells me to just call her Kat. The youngest triplet sits across from me, fiddling with the 8 rings she wears, one of which is definitely an Arron family seal ring. When I ask, she tells me she stole it. I can’t tell if she’s messing with me. She’s the smallest of the three and looks like she could lose a fight with a strong gust of wind, but you wouldn’t think that if you saw her on the drums.

“I have a lot of pent up emotions,” she declares when I ask about her instrument, “I nearly broke one of Arsinoe’s violins when we were younger, so she bugged Willa to buy me a drum kit. I haven’t looked back since,” I can’t help but smile at the story. Arsinoe and Kat seem to enjoy the most banter, but anyone looking at them can see there is genuine sisterly affection there. “But yeah, I went through some shit when I was a teenager and the drums helped me express my aggression healthily.” I don’t ask for any more. Anyone who listened to songs on their debut album like ‘Down, Down’, ‘Viper’ or ‘Dead and Gone’ can hear the deep emotions lying underneath Kat Queen’s skin. Their technical prowess and gory themes have also immortalised the songs as fan favourites.

Kat is gone by the time I look up, seeming to be inspired as she sits on another table and begins writing something down that she eventually hands to a passing Arsinoe, who has spent the morning texting a mystery person with a nearly imperceptible blush on her face as she enters the kitchen area. When she catches me looking, Kat leans over and whispers to me;

“Her and Junior have been chatting forever, if that’s enough of a scoop for you,” she laughs slightly as Arsinoe comes back into the table space.

Arsinoe seems to be the brain behind the operation’s more chaotic elements. She is a verified master of at least four instruments (five if you count voice) and has written the most songs on their album. She looks at me with a cheshire grin and the first thing I can think to ask about is her scars.

“I fought a brown bear and won,” she says, casually enough for me to question whether she’s actually serious (it seems deadpan outrageousness runs in the family). I move onto her music.

“I did a lot of travel when I was a teen, so I had a lot of influences as I was learning my instruments. I also had a lot of people with different styles who have made my music better,” and then she says “shoutout to Jules Milone” and laughs. Her laughter is rough but bright. Much like her songs, which include ‘Sea Ports’, ‘Mount Horn’ and ‘Pub Song’.

She makes me feel comfortable enough to even ask about her love song, ‘Maybe More’. Despite being on the B Side of the debut album, it sent fans crazy with theories. Most in Reign’s fanbase agree that the song is about Arsinoe’s old friend and fellow famous musician, Billy Chatworth, who has also written a song with strikingly similar themes and metaphors, ‘Caught Out’. Both are so tight-lipped it’s almost confessional, but that never stops anyone trying to confirm. Arsinoe laughs when I ask but doesn’t answer, a la Barney Stinson when asked about his occupation on HIMYM.

We get off the bus at the castle-turned-stadium that acts as Indrid Down’s hub of entertainment and it’s all systems go. Mirabella is co-ordinating with the roadies who are moving their stuff. She is somehow both kind and authoritarian. Arsinoe is writing lyrics as she’s walking while listening to something through earphones. Kat is rubbing her drumsticks together and tapping her legs with them while also trying to trip Arsinoe up as they walk together.

They take the stage an hour later and the crowd is deafening as Kat hits the first beat of their set (the jaunty 'Pub Song’). The next two and a half hours go by quicker than expected. The crowd is wild as all three triplets interact with them, and even I’m swept into the hype and I go to concerts like this for a living. Finally, the gentle but haunting lull of ‘Queen Crowned’ finishes their setlist and the audience roars as Arsinoe hits the final, stunningly high note of the song.

Backstage is bustling as mics are removed and sweat is wiped away. Arsinoe picks her sisters up with the force of her hug and then she pulls me into a tight (and very sweaty) hug. The back area fills and Mirabella squeals in excitement as two women who must be her girlfriends kiss her. Kat is embraced by a tall, blonde guy. Arsinoe grins and continues a conversation as she helps one of the roadies pack up before they go out to sign merch.

I leave before the triplets enter the venue lobby to sign merch and meet fans, but I hear the cheering and loud speaking a block away and can’t help but smile. Reign will be around for a while, I reckon.

Crowned - DEBUT ALBUM

Yin

Dead and Gone

Protect

Pub Song

Down Down

Queen Crowned

Viper

Falling Rocks

Sea Ports

Mount Horn

Yang

B-Side

One-Handed Mistress

Fire Maiden

Maybe More

Court Rules

Jules

Cliff and Tower

Three Prisoners

{Cover} SUPERBLOOM (MisterWives)

{Cover} Clean (Hey Violet)

Tag List: @nataliaarronn, @poisonerrose, @alwaysbored005

#three dark crowns #one dark throne #two dark reigns #five dark fates #kendare blake #queen mirabella #queen arsinoe #queen katharine #another world #holiday special 2020

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nctxnation · 6 years ago

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A Haunting in Neo City

➳ Pairing: Renjun x Reader

➳ Genre: Romance | Buzzfeed Unsolved AU

➳ Word Count: 4.8k

➳ Warnings: Mild Language

➳ “Of all the problems and complications in my life, I had not expected love to be one of them.” ― Stacie Evans

You spun around in your chair, eyes tired of seeing the screen after finally finishing another article. The coffee mug next to you, empty, and your brain still sleep deprived and sluggish.

“You look like shit.”

You groaned, pressing send on the computer and turning to see your partner in crime, or more like partner in the occult and crime.

“Hello, to you too, Renjun,” You flicked a paper clip at him and he rolled his eyes as it bounced off his chest. “I’m just tired. Yeri and the girls’ invited me out for dinner last night.”

“Fun,” He grinned, jumping onto your desk, knocking papers to the side. “All I did last night was see how many pens Jisung could stuff in his mouth, nine, by the way.”

“I’m guessing you have some news for me,” Your eyes zeroed in on the stack of papers in his hands. “Let me guess a cursed doll that terrorizes its owners?”

“Been there, done that, remember?” He smiled down at you, eyes brightening at the prospect of a new adventure. Your heart fluttered at the eagerness in his tone and the sparkle of his eyes, “We’re going out to Neo City to scope out the Evermore Woods, aka the Haunted Woods of Neo City. There’s supposedly haunted cabins and we might just end up possessed, you in?”

Of course, you were in. You’d follow Renjun anywhere, he didn’t know that. You sure as hell didn’t want to submit to the sheer embarrassment and awkwardness that would ensue after disclosing your romantic feelings to your coworker and closest friend.

“Do I have a choice?” You grinned snatching the prints of research out of his grip. “We’re not gonna end up possessed, it has never happened.”

“You never know,” He was positively buzzing with excitement and it made you beam at how adorable he looked. “I have a feeling this one is gonna be a good episode though.”

“You always have the craziest shit up your sleeve,” You noted, glancing through rumored sightings of ghosts and wild stories that spurred from college students partying in the woods. “This is no exception. Sounds like a fun roadtrip to me.”

“Wait ‘til you read about the Ghost of Jieun they saw there, it’s some crazy shit I kid you not!”

Renjun went on the full blown spiel, trying to persuade you that the woods were indeed haunted and it wasn’t just a hoax. He did this all the time, seeing as he was the one who fully believed in the paranormal between the two of you. You were the one who decidedly followed him throughout his supernatural investigations sprinkling witty commentary as you weren’t as sold in any stuff like that.

You were often the cause of Renjun’s constant hysteria as you seldom kept quiet and continuously egged and taunted any ‘spirit’ that might be lurking. It got to the point Renjun would keep a small bottle of holy water in his car and occasionally spray you with it just to make sure you weren’t actually possessed.

A long ass story about some ghost later, Renjun was summoned by Jeno who needed help as Haechan had gotten his hand stuck up some tubing they were filming a video with. You took that as your cue to refill your empty coffee cup, to regain some life and have at least a semblance of a normal, functioning human being.

You however didn’t expect yourself to be cornered by Yeri and Yuta, who were looking far too devilish. Their evil smirking were making you want to add them to the list of possible people to perform an exorcism on, part of Renjun’s never ending list.

“So, you and Renjun looked pretty cosy there,” Yeri commented, subtly glancing at Yuta whose face only darkend with mischief.

“We’re partners on this ongoing project,” You deadpanned, pouring in some burning hot liquid into your mug. The steaming zest of life. “He literally has no choice now, the loser is stuck with me. We ordained it with a blood oath which is pretty on brand for us, I guess.”

Yuta cackled heartily, “No wonder you guys’ are in love. You have the same sense of humor.”

“Thanks,” The words processed in your brain slower than Internet Explorer. “Wait--what? In love? Renjun and me?”

“Am I speaking in Japanese?” Yuta winked at you, sipping his coffee so smugly you wanted to slap him. “So, when’s the wedding?”

“It’s not like that,” You began to feel uneasy, their staring was predator-like. “How many times do I have to spell it out to you guys? Renjun and me, we’re friends and co-workers, nothing more. So, we share a room every once in a while and have inside jokes, you and Winwin do too.”

“Mhmm sure,” Yeri shrugged it off, “One day we’ll get you to admit your love for each other.”

“Not gonna happen,” You gritted out, taking your mug and walking away as fast as you could so they couldn’t see the intense blush coloring your features.

“You better send a wedding invitation!” Yuta hollered as you rounded the corner and saw Renjun and Haechan laughing about his incident.

Your heart warmed as Renjun’s eyes met yours and you could have sworn you saw a fondness in his eyes that was only reserved for you. A small sliver of hope slithered its way into your heart, but you crushed it easily on account of it being your sleep deprived brain creating scenarios in your head that weren’t real.

Unbeknownst to you, Renjun sighed in aggravation. His little frown catching Haechan’s attention.

“You might as well tell Y/N you like them,” Haechan said as he watched your retreating figure.

“It’s not that easy,” Renjun admitted, “Y/N and me are a team, we have our own series and its doing really good. I don’t want to ruin any of that knowing they don’t feel the same.”

“You sure about that?” Haechan snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Renjun snapped, ready to put Haechan in headlock at any given offense.

“I mean the supernatural isn’t the only thing your blind to,” Haechan patted his friend’s shoulder and left, leaving Renjun more confused than before.

Renjun thought it was easier to be cornered by ghosts, demons, serial killers, and bizarre monsters than having to ever come close to admitting his feelings for you. Your friendship ran deep and he didn’t want to derail the dynamic he worked so hard to upkeep. Plus, he didn’t think you’d like him, you got along swimmingly due to the fact that you two instantly clicked. You were his best friend, in his eyes, telling you he wanted something more was severely scarier than facing ghouls.

The matters of the heart were always something terrifying.

Renjun placed his folder of information neatly on the table, eyes bright as he faced the camera. You sat next to him trying your best not to stare too much at him. You failed of course and you hoped your audience thought none of it. The comment section had a few comments littered about they way you looked at each other. The last thing you needed was your full blown heart eyes for Renjung to be the one thing your viewers discussed.

“This week we will be exploring the haunted cabins in the Neo City Evermore Woods.”

Gosh, even the way his voice went into professional mode was starting to sound immensely attractive to you.

“Do you think we'll see bears?” You asked, smirking at the frustrated sigh he let out. The edges of his lips turned upwards and that in itself was enough to have you glowing.

“The woods are crawling with ghosts and demons and you're worried about bears?” He chuckled, it was so like you. It was one of the many things he liked about you, even when it clashed with who he was.

“I just don't want to take my chances.”

“But you'll be okay with being possessed?” His eyes bulged out of his face and you giggled at how comical he looked.

“I'm being realistic. I guess we can trace a circle around us.”

“Of salt?”

“No, dirt like with a stick. For the bear, Renjun. Not the ghosts.”

“Isn't that from Spongebob?” He regarded you with sparkly eyes full of amusement.

He loved the way you made the tension in his body release, the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed at your own stupid jokes. He was seriously gone and he hoped it didn’t get captured on camera.

“Yeah that's where I get all my educational information from.”

He started wheezing and you joined in laughing at how silly you sounded. That was your role in this dynamic duo, he took everything regarding the supernatural seriously and you joked about it. You two were like yin and yang in a sense, you balanced each other out.

“Well, I get all my educational information from reliable sources,” Renjun began addressing the timeline of the Disappearance of Jieun, to telling about her murder and the hauntings of the lake and cabins.

You added your own commentary, smiling when the camera turned off and Renjun excitedly high fived you. Yup, you were way too deep.

“You were really funny out there,” He said, shuffling all his papers back into his folder, “Great stuff. I think I’m going to need an inhaler or something.”

“Nah, I think I sounded cringey,” You waved off his immediate protests, “I just wanted to take the time to say that you really put a lot of work into this series and it shows. You’re doing amazing, Renjun, and you deserve to know it.”

“Couldn’t do it without you?” He was too sweet, he was going to give you tooth decay.

“I don’t think--”

“No, of course you don’t see how great you are,” He interrupted you, placing a small warm hand on your shoulder. “But I see how great you are and I think you should know you make this series worth doing.”

“Renjun…”You swiped an imaginary tear off your cheek, ignoring the actual tears building up. “You really are the sweetest person in the office, don’t tell Jungwoo I said that.”

The weight of his compliment and your lack of though, had you wrapping his frame around your arms. He froze, but then melted into your hands.

“I’m serious you make the other half of Spooky Duo,” Renjun’s warmth blossomed a new kind of warmth in your heart, “I love you, Y/N...I mean, you’re the best partner in crime money can buy.”

“You threatened me to join you,” You sniffled, ignoring the fluttering feelings the eight letters he murmured brought you. “I had no choice in the matter, but you’re a great partner in crime...I love you too, Renjun.”

The love you felt was different than the love he felt that much you knew. No lack of sleep or caffeine rush was going to lull you into a false reality that you made up in your head. He didn’t feel the same.

There was beat, in which you both stood, arms tangled and breathing rough, staring into each other’s eyes. The moment was broken when Yuta and Yeri stumbled into your work room claiming a group meeting. You scrambled away from each other, your eyes having totally not been hyperfixed on his lips. Renjun cleared his throat and fist bumped you claiming you as the best friend he could ask for, before he went on his merry way.

You sighed, not trying hard enough to hide you own dejection, but you followed behind him. This, unfortunately, only roused Yuta and Yeri even more as they began gossiping about the office, murmuring about how any day now the Spooky Duo were finally going to get together.

It was dusk, night barely stretching across the horizon when you reached the edge of the Evermore Woods. The forest was cold, dark, and dense. It was the picturesque vision of any horror movie setting, horrific and nightmarish. It would certainly allow for your mind to conjure up the scariest of things to crawl from out of the forest, had you been creative enough for it. From the look in Renjun’s wide eyes, you can tell he felt the eeriness set in too.

The uneasiness reflected in Jeno and Jaemin’s eyes, your camera crew for tonight. Haechan and Yuta were already setting up things in the cabins. Renjun gulped and led the way down the path, Jeno and Jaemin stayed a couple of steps behind you two, jostling through the greenery with their equipment.

“Are you afraid of anything?” Renjun trekked through the foliage skillfully, the bright flashlight guiding him, although there was a subtle shake to his grip.

“Yeah, dying alone. Thank God I have you.” It was meant as a joke, but the weight of your words rang heavy and poignant in contrast to the eerie silence of the night.

Renjun deliberated for a moment, before following it up with a quip of his own, “I'll feed you to the demons before you even get to me.”

“That’s to say there’s even demons.”

“Our viewers think you’re a demon.” His eyes were playful, reeling you in and effectively turning you into mush.

“I can’t confirm nor deny that.” You squashed the butterflies easily, falling into step behind him.

“Do you think we’ll catch some real footage of something?”

“What if we see Bigfoot?”

“Wrong episode,” Renjun smiled, “Do these woods spook you out? What's that noise?”

“Do you know what a cricket is? Speaking of Bigfoot,” You poked his side and he flew up, sending you a glare, “Remember last time? Dude, you were practically crying.”

“I thought we were gonna die,” He defended, “How was I supposed to know Johnny was in a Bigfoot costume ready to scare the shit out of us.”

“That was the whole point,” You said as you finally reached the small lake where the Ghost of Jieun was rumored to be seen. “Are you down for a late night swim?”

Renjun focused his thermal camera on his surroundings, frowning as he caught sight of nothing out of the ordinary. “Should we try the spirit box? Maybe we can speak to her.”

“Chick was murdered by a man, she probably has some deep issues,” You said, plopping down on the wet grass that covered the lip of the lake. “She probably won’t want to speak to you. Or maybe she’s hiding in the cabins back there.”

Jeno and Jaemin propped up all the filming equipment and readied the camera to start filming. They signaled Renjun to get started and he immediately launched into ‘YouTuber Renjun’.

“We’re here at the Evermore Woods of Neo City. As you can see, we have Green Water Lake right behind me and some of the cabins that remained from the old campground. People say the Ghost of Jieun likes to linger around this general area, near the dock.”

“Wasn’t she killed by her lover?” You bounced a small pebble into the water and watched it ripple.

“Yeah, he dated her. He actually said she was too beautiful to be murdered and she agreed and used that as her tactic to live for one more minute.”

“I--what?”

“Yeah she was basically like ‘Please don't kill me, I’m too sexy for this disrespect.”

“Do you think he was like hahaha don't die your so sexy...oops sorry my knife fell into you.”

“We really shouldn't be joking about this here,” Renjun bit his lip, glancing around nervously.

“That sounds like a freaking skit from American Horror Story 1984! How am I supposed to take it seriously?”

“Because we're probably standing within the general vicinity of the crime.”

“Oh, shit.” You turned towards the cabins. “Should we go inside?”

“You want to go first or should I?” He asked, brushing off bits of grass of his pants and helping you up off the ground.

“The non-believer always goes first,” You smiled, pinching his cheek, “You, my dear, are last because you’ll most likely freak out and that will be great footage.”

“Please don’t summon anymore demons from the pits of hell.” Renjun begged, although you caught subtle lilt of amusement in his voice.

“Can’t make any promises,” You took the spirit box and thermal camera from him. “It’s not like anything exciting ever happens anyway.”

“Be careful.”

The words were simple but the way he said them, dripping with concern. You almost turned around to see his face, but you knew that if you didn’t stop walking towards the cabin, you’d kiss him then and there. Your feelings were growing and him being the sweet, caring person he was, wasn’t helping your case.

“Honestly, Renjun, is probably pissing his pants right now.” You told the camera Jeno was pointed at you, he agreed silently with a grin. “He’s always terrified, but is like an eager puppy wanting to catch anything.”

“Y/N probably raised hell in there, but what's new.” Renjun called out, opening the door to one of the cabins.

“I did no such thing...just told the ghost to screw itself for not singing Fergalicious to see if it's real or not.”

“Fergalicious wasn't even a thing back then.”

“Fergie withstands the fabric of time, it's all an illusion, Renjun.” You walked up to him and he made room for Jeno and you to enter. “Maybe something will come out if there’s more of us. It could want variety in its selection.”

The door closed behind you and all you could hear was the heavy breathing of everyone in the room. There was a freakish vibe to them, more so than when you were alone. Jeno swept the camera around the room, catching every cobweb and dust particle within view. Jaemin focused his camera on the Renjun and you waiting for some action.

“Okay, if there’s anyone--Jeiun or any other ghost can you say something to let us know you’re hear.” Renjun flipped the spirit box on and the room was flooded with static noise and the occasional gurgle of something possibly otherworldly.

“My name is Y/N and this my buddy Renjun,” You licked your lips, feeling the chill of the night creep up on you like a frosty hand. “For his sake, can you say something? Is it like in Ghost Whisper, that you have unfinished business and that’s why don’t cross over?”

“Ren…”

“Oh, fuck,” Renjun began to blubber.

“Y/N….” The voice was barely audible above the static, but still managed to erupt a trail of goosebumps down your arm. It clearly sounded like the voice of a girl. “Ren...jun…”

“Oh, hell no,” Renjun looked on the brink of a breakdown, he clambered towards the exit but Jeno blocked it. “Jeno, what the hell!”

“I...am...Jieun…”

A shrill noise pierced the ear and the static of the spirit box became muffled right after. Suddenly, Jeno began to move frenetically, casting the camera aside on a wooden table. His eyes were twitching and his arms waved in the air as if he were possessed.

“Jeno?” Jaemin’s voice was hoarse, he gently shook Jeno.

His eyes widened as Jeno glared down at him and then smacked him on the side, knocking him straight down. Jaemin whimpered from the brute force of his hit and recoiled as Jeno wailed violently and incoherently.

“J-Jeno?” Renjun grabbed your arm and shoved you behind his body, shielding you from any harm Jeno may cause. “Hey, man, if this is about you not getting to pick the location, we can work this out?”

Jaemin got up and quickly grabbed a hold of Jeno whose eyes were rolling back, his whole body contorting under the hold of Jaemin. Renjun pushed you back, slowly stumbling into the small closet in the corner of the room.

“I think he’s possessed!” Jaemin shouted, pinning Jeno down and waving you two off. “Take cover somewhere, I don’t think I can hold him down for much longer.”

Renjun hesitated, not believing his eyes. You pulled him back and ducked into the small closet, the only thing you could hear was the violent rustle of the wind outside and Jeno’s screeching.

“I shit you not if this is one of your pranks Y/N--”

“It’s n-not,” You stuttered, your whole body quivering like a feather in the breeze. “I swear to God Renjun, I don’t know what’s going on.”

Jaemin’s screaming ceased, there was silence, then a loud, thumping. Jeno’s fists hit the door in frantic, solid beats shaking the door with each hit.

“He loved me,” Jeno’s voice sounded distanted, higher pitched, “He said he loved me. He said I was beautiful, yet he killed me.”

“Jieun?” Renjun almost sounded sympathetic and you wanted to cry at how sweet he can be, but this wasn’t the time. “Is that you in Jeno? Look, I’m sorry for--”

“You’re not sorry!” Jeno’s thundering voice was full of anguish, “You mock me with your love!”

“What?” You cleared your throat, finding it hard to sound anything remotely human when all you wanted was to sob.

“Your love for each other,” Jeno as Jieun said, “I thought I had that with him. I was wrong. All I want to see is the love I never got.”

“Is she on crack?” You blurted unthinkingly causing Renjun to silence you with a frantic glare. “I mean, oh yeah, we have a very deep friendly affection.”

“Love,” possessed Jeno corrected, “Tell each other you love each other. You never know what life might throw at you. Enjoy love while you can.”

“Is that a threat Ghost Lady?” You didn’t know what to think of possessed Jeno’s words.

“I’ll let you out only if you speak your heart’s desire.”

“Heart’s desire?” Renjun laughed perturbed by the ghost’s insinuation. “This is crazy.”

“Confess your heart’s desire or face the consequences!” Jeno began banging on the door again and it looked like if he slammed his fist one more time, it would crumble under his sheer strength.

“Renjun do something!”

“Okay, okay, stop Jieun,” Shaking like a leaf, he turned to you ignoring the persistent badgering and grumbling from possessed Jeno. “Y/N, if we don’t make it out of this alive I’m sorry I dragged you into this place.”

The lack of heartfelt confessions only angered Jeno even more.

“Hey, Samara chill for a second, okay?” You looked at Renjun, taking his hand and squeezing it. “You don’t force me to go anywhere with you, truth is, I’d follow you to any stupid place you want to go. It doesn’t matter if I think it’s haunted or not, for work or not, I’d still follow you anywhere.”

“What?” His breath knotted in his threat and as your breath fanned across his cheeks, he could have sworn he’d be the next ghost to inhabit that cabin. You were too close and his poor heart can only take so much in one night.

“I don’t know if its the fact we’re about to die,” You wanted to be swallowed by some random hole in the ground or have creepy ghost Jeno drag you away. “Or the fact I can’t see you since it’s dark as shit in here. Or even the fact that I’m starting to think this is a nightmare and I’ll wake up in my desk with you hovering over me with fresh coffee and that cheesy smile of yours that I lo--”

“Y/N.” The way he spoke your name so softly and lovingly, made your temperature rise the cold of the dinky closet no longer affected you.

“Oh, right, sorry,” You rushed through your words, wanting this all to be over, “Truth is I like you, Renjun. I’ve liked you for a long time and that’s why I didn’t need a lot of convincing to join your team.”

“Is that true?” Samara-Jeno asked.

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

“I like you too, Y/N,” Renjun’s voice cracked and your heart swelled. “I’m not...I have no words to describe it. But I like you so much and I never had the courage to say it.”

You smiled, shrouded in the darkness he couldn’t see the pure happiness on your face.

“I’ll leave this body now,” Samara-Jeno said, breaking the heart-eyes-through-the-dark spell you two were in. “You can rest easy, I’m gone…Hey, you guys what the hell happened?”

“Holy shit it worked!” The sheer exuberance of him confessing and you not being in danger had you squealing. “I didn’t think that would work!”

Renjun, however took this differently, “Yeah, you’re such a good actor. That confession...wow.”

“What?” You didn’t even have time to process the crushing sensation his words brought. “Oh, yeah, good one right?” You knew it was too good to be true.

“For God’s sake--”Jeno threw the door open and you clambered over to grip Renjun close to you.

Jaemin sighed exasperated as he readjusted the camera in his hands. You crawled out of the closet, disoriented and bewildered by everything going on. Haechan was handing Chenle money (“Told you they were dumb to see their love”) and bitterly glaring at you two. Yuta and Yeri looked like they wanted to bang their heads.

“What the hell is this?” You shrieked as Renjun gaped at his coworkers.

“This was a set up!” Jeno explained, outraged by the sheer dumbassery you two possessed. “You guys literally confessed to each other like we wanted! Then straight up made it sound like it was all acting...what the heck!”

“You guys are really something else,” Yuta shook his head. “Love is blind and makes you oblivious, but you two are just dumbassess.”

“Wait, so you like me?” Renjun’s eyes widened at your accusation.

“You like me too?”

“Yeah, I actually wasn’t lying,” You felt sheepish at all the pairs of eyes glued on you. “I do like you, Renjun...enough to go ghost hunting even though I don’t believe in that.”

“I like you too,” He cupped your cheek in his hands, ignoring the camera Jaemin pointed right at you. “You’re my partner in crime and I kinda wanna have you around to hunt more ghosts.”

“That’s an offer I can’t resist,” You grinned, kissing him gently on the cheek. “However, you’re gonna have to buy me dinner after, all this ghost hunting makes me hungry.”

“Deal.” The same fondness in his eyes you thought you imagined before, returned and your eyes reflected that fondness. “Now, what the hell were you guys thinking this was a great location and we could have had awesome footage!”

You spent the rest of the night scouring the woods for ghosts, although you didn’t find any. Renjun and you, trailed behind everyone, hand and hand and beaming brighter than the moon above.

“What do you think our viewers are gonna make our ship name be?”

“I hope it’s not something silly,” You gripped his fingers tightly, yanking him closer to you. “There’s something I’ve really been wanting to do, but doing it in front of everyone and in haunted cabin, just didn’t seem right.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” His fingers caressed your cheek, letting them trail down as he placed his hand on your arm. He marveled at the way you shivered under his touch. He was getting too cocky and needed to be stepped down a notch.

You pecked his lips quickly, the only witness to your kiss was the moon and stars. He soften under your touch, holding you tighter. You pulled away all too quick for his taste and laughed as you made your way towards the cars and the group.

“That’s what you get for being a tease!”

He smiled and followed you spraying holy water from his spray can at your retreating figure.

“You really are a demon!” He joked as he caught up to you and took your hand in his again.

“Another one to add to the list of completed missions,” You grinned shuffling into the van. “Up for another adventure?”

“With you, yes,” He would never stop making your heart flutter.

“I swear to God if you two are going to be this cheesy, I am going to regret setting this up in the first place.”

Yuta was only kidding, considering he was the biggest shipper. The next day at the office the video of you two confessing to each other was seen by everyone. For once, you were glad to have been terrorized by an alleged ghost. You watched as Renjun walked over to you, glowing, and a folder in his hand. Yeah, you’d definitely followed this dork through any “haunted” place or anywhere for that matter.

Paranormal Neotivity masterlist

#neotober #cznnet #neowritingsnet #huang renjun #renjun x reader #renjun #nct renjun #nct dream fanfic #nct dream

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bluem0use · 5 years ago

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It's about time I introduced you to the cast of The Crackin'-Up Studios. Don't worry. You'll be seeing them again, especially in the mini-comics!

**In order from top to bottom, left to right**

Billie Bob Willie-Nillie Black Sheep: The overall face of The Crackin'-Up Studios itself. She is the ring leader to the whole circus. The pilot to all the flight attendance. The manager to a corporate office. You get the whole idea. She's one poppin' fire-cracker (A.K.A. has a short temper) that's all for the business, but doesn't mind getting silly from time to time. On screen, she is the definition of unpredictable and crazy, fun and silly. She's a gun happy country gal that started off small and came out big with her talents for making people laugh. She worked hard to get her way to the top. And all of it has obviously paid off. If someone was to use words to describe her, it would be fun, loving, friendly, brave, courageous, generous, the list could go on and on. This gun-loving little lady, no matter where she goes, always somehow seems to change people's lives. And for the better.

Poochie Pooh Poodle: Billie's partner-in-crime. Her bestest friend since her younger years. Her ride or die buddy. Poochie is the main co-star to the series, and a serious eye-candy to men. While Billie is featured as the funny, wacky, unpredictable, quirky character on-screen of the trio, Poochie is often featured as the sex-appeal. The sex symbol. The hot mama. She also models as a little side job whenever necessary. She's the sweetest sweetie-pie you will ever meet in your life. However, proceed with caution. When provoked, she's one sassy gal and won't hesitate to give you a mouthful (and probably a gun wound) if you mess with her, or her friends.

Wolfie Blackfang Wolf: What's the three musketeers without a male in the picture? Wolfie may not have known these two women as long as they've known each other, but their his closest family he's ever had since he left the orphanage. He is also the main co-star to the series, accompanied by being the musical genius of the three. Since a young boy, Wolfie has practiced music as not only his hobby, but his life. His alluring ability was able to trap the young black sheep and poodle in a trance on a fateful night in a club where he worked to try and make a living, thus landing him a job and a ticket to materialization through the ladies. From there, he has always acted as the stud of the three, protecting them whenever they needed an extra hand and also charming women with his attractive voice along the way.

Candy Bat: This "monster", this "usually nocturnal creature of the night", this "mysterious shadow" is nothing but a sweet treat in the eyes of many who travel far and wide to Nightwalk Bay to get a taste of his sweet treats at the local candy shop. At least, that's what Billie, Poochie, and Wolfie will tell ya. Famous for his line of business, Candy Bat is a harmless, humble candy man..err..bat that seeks nothing but to fill the mouths of the fortunate with a sweet after-taste. His delicious pastries, frozen desserts, and fizzy drinks aren't the only thing that appeals to the eyes of many. He's also a support character at The Crackin'-Up Studios during the day and a friendly (but hissy, due to his uncontrollable excited hisses whenever he meets someone new and/or is excited) candy shop-keeper at night.

Scratches: Whoa, watch out for that web! There's a BIG spider up there! And his name is none other than Scratches, yet another support cast character for The Crackin'-Up Studios. When in the presence of my six-armed friend, be cautious. Scratches loves the ladies and will go through extreme lengths to entangle you in his web, if he deems you a worthy enough mate. Don't worry fellas, he doesn't swing that way. Though..spider's gotta eat, right? What? Spiders only eat insects? Not this playful, flirtatious one. Note that this spider is dead, and has been ressurrected after a deal made by Ozzan (scroll down to reference Ozzan's bio). Therefore, Scratches likes human flesh too. Dont worry too much though. He's too busy chasing both Poochie and Billie around the studios, trying to declare his love for them. Though...something about a huge demon spider just..turns those two ladies off.

Honey Hyena: As the name implies, this hyena is sweet as honey! Raised on a bee farm, this little lady never expected to end up being a supporting cast character to The Crackin'-Up Studios. That was, until a little Black Sheep mozied on over and decided to offer her the position and the materialization process just like everyone else. She figured the nice lady would need the money boost besides "Milkin' bees all day long" - Billie. Honey loves bees. In fact, on her days off from woking at the studios, that's all she does! Is work, work, work at her long-descended family bee farm, making honey and selling it for some dough (money) as a side job. She is also the motherly figure to all the cartoon ladies on set and often tries to share her knowledge with them in hopes she can help guide them on the right path. I mean, not everyone is perfect, right?

Bon Isabell Bunny: Daughter of a long deceased magician (who was, ironically a white bunny), she has seeked to find more support by becoming a supporting cast character to the TV series. However, though, she wasn't looking to be a supporting character when offered the job by Billie Bob. Bon has a bit of a...strong hatred for Billie Bob. Bon saw how much love and respect the black sheep got, even from her "enemies". So, what does this tempered (its just as bad as Billie's, trust me), quick-to-anger, grumpy gal do? Well, it's like they say, "Kill the sheep, take her wool!". That is...if she could catch her first. Forever caught in this game of cat-and-mouse on screen and off screen, Bon decided to settle into this position for now. Hopefully one day, her magic tricks and traps can pay off and actually earn her a spot in the lead position.

Bon Iseah Bunny: Twin brother to the other Bon Bunny, this bunny seems the complete opposite of his sister. This magic bunny doesn't mind being a supporting cast character, and instead enjoys making others smile with her magic tricks and qurkiness. After all, its what his deceased magician father would have wanted. He admires Billie and everything that she does not only for everyone else, but herself. He just hopes with time, his sister can see that. For now, this calm bunny will just have to play as yin to his sister's yang (A.K.A., trying his best to calm her in her most stressed and ferocious moments).

Molly Cow: Before her rise to fame as another member of The Crackin'-Up Studios crew, Molly Cow, the half-pig half-cow offspring, could not keep a job to save her life! She was lazy, less focused, often slacking or ducking off, and/or giving up before she even set foot in the door! The funny thing is, she wouldn't care, and just go back to living with her parents. Seeing as though Molly's confident and care-free attitude was a necessity to bring on some laughs, all Billie had to do was offer a hand to the voluptuous, intriguing young woman and for some odd reason, this cartoon has managed to keep the job ever since. Side note, if you ask her what her "other" job would be whenever she brings it up, it would be shopping. She is ALL about the fashion!

Malachi (formerly known as "Michael Jamesking"): Yes, Malachi is actually an angel. AND, he is also a featuring asset to the team whenever needed. With the help of one of Veronica's potions (scroll down to reference Veronica's bio), he has the ability to shrink down to size on command. He also is a good line of defense if life-threatening danger ever be-falls the company, for even if he is a judgement angel, he is considered very powerful against a mortal (unless demon weapons are used against him). He is pure, friendly, and kind, however, you must not associate yourself with the presence of evil upon first meetings. He IS a jugement angel after all and will be quick to judge you and shame you for your choice of sin and avoid you like the plague while also be-littleing you. Ironically, the only exception to this treatment is Ozzan (his best friend in all universes) and Bendy (in the head-canon canon universe). Also note, Malachi was never always Malachi. Malachi was once Michael, a regular, normal, working business man who unfortunately got hit by a car on his morning rush to work.

Ozzan: Oh boy. This one's a bad one. If you thought Scratches (scroll up to reference Scratche's bio) was bad, wait until you get a load of this one! This foul-mouthed, ill-mannered, obnoxious, flirtatious pervert is somehow a necessity to The Crackin'-Up Studios. His crude sense of humor and anctics tend to get a good laugh out of adults more than oblivious children. He will flirt with anything, sleep with anything, hell even risk catching some sort of SEXUAL DISEASE for anything that has legs. This man lives, breathes, and embraces everything that is bad at every cost, every time. Its possibly why he was so close to Lucifer (the Devil) back when he was in Hell. Though, take caution. If you piss him off (which isn't really hard to do), he WILL tear you to bits and peices with his bare fists. Also, beware of tentacles and trendils ladies. He has them everywhere and can use them not only in battle, but also for...other things. So beware and..make sure your doors are locked.

Veronica Bat: Born "Daddy's Little Monster", Veronica is the daughter of Candy Bat and Valentine Naxxremis (formerly Bat)(She will be referenced in the next ref). For most of her life, she has lived with her mother and embraced her witch-hood, which usually ends up with the little gloom and doom bookworm getting bullied for being a "half-breed". However, her luck gets turned around when she meets Billie Bob (like a lot of these people's do) who helps instill in her to be happy to be herself and to screw what everyone else says..and to also get back at them at all costs. She looks up to Billie and Poochie as her "Aunties", though, has trouble getting along with her father. She was raised to believe she had left her and her mother and never really loved them. Which, is obviously not true, but, she has a hard time believing that. Once welcomed to the cast, Veronica is a huge hit with the goth little teen girls who aspire to be like her: beautiful and mysterious. Let's just hope she gets he powers under control first, for she struggles with that a great deal on screen for comical effect and off screen.

Patricia Greene Pig: (A/N: She probably has had the MOST change out of all of them, so beware) Patricia is Delloris's (scroll down for Delloris's bio) bestest friend since childhood. Snobby, rude, sassy, class. All of these combined makes her perfect for scenes where she's the girl that thinks she's too good for the male trying to win her heart. Likes are, their only trying to "woo" it for her money. Oh, did I mention she's very wealthy? Her and Delloris aren't friends for nothing. You have to have some sort of status when it comes to getting in goods with the mayor's one and only daughter. Also note that Patricia is an EXTREME germo-phobe and will pelt you down with germ-x if you've so much as TOUCHED an un-sanitized door knob.

Hank Kat: Hank Kat has been an aspired musician since he was a little boy. He has really known the struggles of what it's like to be broke from both of his poor parents. So, as a way to raise some money, he went out on the streets and played his father's old rusty trumphet for some pocket change. Crowds were so awed at his talent, before long, Hank was hitting the clubs to try and win over some cash to take care of his parents once he became of age. Similar to Wolfie, Poochie had just so happened to stumble upon him. Though they didn't exactly see eye-to-eye due to species war, they were able to put their differences aside the night they had spent together, dancing the night away. As they danced, Poochie would listen to this party-goer's story and become sympathetic for the poor fellow. Thus, she figured his wallet could be fed a little more and thus offered for him to be a support character on the team. With his toe-tappin', feed stompin', hand wavin; jams that he can play on trombone, trumphet, pretty much just about any instrument he could blow into, he would become not only a major asset to the supporting cast, but also the music, both at his day job at the studios and his night job in the clubs.

Puncho: This "unstoppable brick wall" can take a punch and also pack it. After all, they don't call him "Puncho" for nothing! Though he's not much of fan favorite unless it comes to his famous boxing episodes, Puncho is a well-served supporting cast in the crew. He's often seen alongside his partner, Scraps Skunk (scroll down for Scrap's bio), no matter what the situation. He has a temper just like Billie, girl Bon, and Ozzan, however, instead of unleashing it by yelling at coworkers and throwing large objects (Billie), chasing someone down the hall with a chainsaw (Girl Bon), or spewing a bunch of curse words that's enough to make a sailor blush (Ozzan), he lets out his steam in the ring. He is the undefeated champion (if you don't count his and Billie's first brawl in one of her posters) within the boxing ring and anyone who dare wants to challenge him in taking his belt, well. Better be prepared for the pain. Bring a lot of ice.

Scraps Skunk: A timid, shy soul who is pure and good at working the ring as a referee. He plays fair though, he always will support his bestest friend, Puncho no matter what. His often scared, frightened, shaky attitude is welcomed on screen whenever needed. He was often bullied through his childhood and unlike those who have toughed up from it, he only seemed to soften. Hell, even Billie has chewed him out for his overly push-over nature. Though, she gives up. For nothing can change this poor man's soft heart and kind ways.

Wallis Moose: What else to say about this guy besides him obviously being a horrible detective? After his first appearance as one in one of Billie's episodes, Wallis fell in love with the idea of being one and even off screen, tries to solve "mysteries" wherever he is needed. However, he always slips up short and makes himself to be a fool. How did he even earn a spot on the team? Well, to put it simple, Wallis is a stone cold, hard drunk. He drinks and drinks and drinks, and when he's hiccuping and stumbling all over the place, Billie couldn't help but find it amusing the first time they met. After all, the first night they met, they both danced drunkinly through the streets of Nightwalk Bay, where they somehow met. As kooky as it sounds, it actually happened. Believe me.

Chico Georgina Chick: This once poor broken flapper was able to leave her broken past of having to prostitute herself on the streets and go some nights starving behind. Coincidentally, Chico was given another opportunity at a better life by Hank Kat (scroll up for Hank's bio), who happened to run into her at one of the clubs and show her a much better life than what she was living by offering her a position at the studios and materialization through the machine. Now a re-born, classy lady, this former flapper...heh...well, let's be honest. Girl loves to party and dance like there's none tomorrow, is ready to bring all the club's joy and bump to the table on screen. Hank is often seen by her side, playing away on his trumphet while she dances on top of a table. Nothing too promiscuous or provocitive. Want to keep the adult's attention but not as much. She's known as the party girl out of the group and also knows a thing or two about fashion. Also, keep her as FAR away from Molly (scroll up for Molly's bio) as possible..they fight a lot.

Delloris Acorn: Delloris is the beloved daughter of the mayor of Toon City, within the alternate world where cartoons "live". Her mother died giving childbirth and though she never knew her mother. She was always expected to act lady-like and proper, is why she carries herself that way. Though, the day Billie met Delloris and her father and was allowed to spend the day with her, Billie turned her upside down and all around. To the point Delloris came home, dress cut into a tank-top, short short overalls, knee-high socks, messy hair, and busted shoes. Billie's excuse was they were pig wrestling (no pun intended Patricia). Her father was awfully upset and almost demanded Billie to be arrested, however, Billie's sly deal to offer Delloris a spot at the studios was the only thing that saved her from some jail time. Now, while away from her rich and perfect life as the mayor's "little princess", she's allowed to get down and dirty. Especially on screen where down and dirty are necessary for some laughs.

Mad Mouse (also known as "Maddison K Mouse"): Why is this mouse so quiet and mysterious? Why does he never speak or even take off his goggles? Wait, is this mouse even a "he" at all? Well, yes and no. To put a long story short, back in these days and times of the early 1900s, women weren't taken seriously. Even toon women. Born a genius, the only way to get people to notice her freakishly large brain talent is to disguise herself as a man and as to go as "Mad Mouse" instead of "Maddison Mouse". However, her little secret couldn't be kept that long, for an incident in her labs caused her to lose part of her disguise and have to come clean to Billie, Poochie, and Wolfie. It was through them who helped her realize that, no matter who you are, your voice deserved to be heard no matter what. From that point on, this support cast member decided to cease wearing the disguse and be her actual self. Though, I wouldn't mess with this quiet little genius. She's a little...mad (crazy), as the legends and cartoons portray her as.

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writer-k-pop · 5 years ago

Text

Brother (Wooyoung)

그렇게 부르지 마. Don’t call me that. Description: When your boyfriend, Wooyoung, gets a mysterious letter saying to meet at the abandoned train station with his girlfriend in tow, you can’t stop the questions from flowing out. But he asks you for trust and you give it to him. You just never expect to stand across from another Wooyoung. Warnings: There’s a physical fight but I don’t put in anything too graphic, at least I don’t think I do. Genre: Angst Word Count: 2k

Ateez Masterlist | Masterlists

This is where I am. Standing in the abandoned train station, caught between the burning gazes of two men who resemble my boyfriend to a tee. The only thing that is giving them any difference are their clothes. The Wooyoung standing in front of me is dressed in all black. Black pants, black button up, black vest thing, and a sleek black hat. The Wooyoung standing next to me, my boyfriend Wooyoung, is in black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a yellow and brown striped fuzzy sweater.

“So you actually brought her?” Dark Wooyoung nods, impressed.

Wooyoung sighs, “Did I have a choice?” He asks.

“I mean you did but it just wouldn’t have been the best for her.” Dark Wooyoung smirks.

Getting tired of looking back and forth between the two, I tug Wooyoung towards Dark Wooyoung and stand in front of them.

“I don’t want to stand near him.” Wooyoung protests and moves two feet to his right. Dark Wooyoung simple rolls his eyes but doesn’t make any movements.

“Well I was getting freaking whiplash from you two.” I snap. “What is going on? Wooyoung, who is this? And why does he look EXACTLY like you? You don’t have a twin, do you?”

Wooyoung shakes his head, “I don’t have a twin.”

“That’s a lie.” The Dark Wooyoung interjects quickly.

I raise one eyebrow in confusion and wait for one of them to explain.

Wooyoung looks at Dark Wooyoung to see if he’d pick up the slack. When he doesn’t, Wooyoung takes breath and takes the reigns himself.

“My dad was a crazed-“

“Genius.” Dark Wooyoung interrupts casually.

“Scientist.” Wooyoung gives Dark Wooyoung a dark look. “When I was born, after 5 girls, he wanted more boys but my mom-“

“Our mom.” Dark Wooyoung checks his fingernails.

“Was done have kids.” Wooyoung glares at Dark Wooyoung. “Do you mind?”

“I’m making sure you tell the story the right way.” Dark Wooyoung shrugs and folds his arms in front of his chest, “Continue.”

Wooyoung looks back at me and continues to explain. “Mom didn’t want any more kids. So, Dad being the scientist he was, began to research a way to clone me, his only son.”

“But didn’t your dad die?” I ask softly, remembering the late nights when the grief was a little too much for Wooyoung to handle.

“Yes. He did. God, you had to date a semi slow one, didn’t you, Woo?” Dark Wooyoung throws his hands up in annoyance.

“I am not slow.” I argue, now slightly annoyed with Dark Wooyoung.

“Look, long story short, dad attempted to figure out a way to clone his kid. He did, but he didn’t know it would kill him in the process. Not only that, but he left out something so one of us, me, is the dark and brooding opposite of the original, him.” Dark Wooyoung gestures to Wooyoung. “While he chose a quiet, boring life, I went for the exciting one. But agreed to never contact each other unless there was an emergency. Which there hasn’t been.”

“So... you are twins?” I repeat.

“See?” Dark Wooyoung points to me while looking at Wooyoung, “Slow.”

Before I can counter, Wooyoung answers. “In a sense, yes, we’re twins. But we don’t consider each other twins.” Wooyoung gives Dark Wooyoung a once over, “For obvious reasons.”

“Obvious only to you, brother.” Dark Wooyoung fixes his hat.

“Don’t call me that.” Wooyoung mumbles.

“Then why are you guys here, together, if you agreed to never contact or see each other?” I ask.

“Now she’s asking the good questions.” Dark Wooyoung smiles and takes a couple steps forward. “You see, sweetheart,” He starts and I want to smack the condescending look out of his eyes, “I work off of a list that our father had been building. It’s quite a long list, it’s taken me the better part of 20 years to finish. Dad had some unfinished business when he passed away. And I, being the more daring son, am finishing that business for him.”

“You have not. It was never your business to finish!” Wooyoung turns away and runs his hands through his hair. “Does mom know what you’ve been doing?” He asks, turning back around.

“If you had no clue, do you think she does?” Dark Wooyoung growls.

“I’m guessing you mean you’ve been killing people off of your father’s list.” I infer, glancing between the two of them. “They must’ve wronged him in the past and now you’re correcting the wrongs.”

Dark Wooyoung blinks at me in surprise, “I take back what I said about you being slow.”

“The question is,” I probe, “What’s in it for you?”

“What’s in it for me?” Dark Wooyoung repeats, “Well, I get avenge my father, the man who created me. I get to have the last laugh against the people who wronged him.”

I glance at Wooyoung and back at Dark Wooyoung. If it wasn’t clear before, it couldn’t be more crystal clear the difference between the two. One is a protector, a happy pill. The other is a man only seeing red and chasing after an unbalanced scale.

“You said in your letter that you had one more name in your list.” Wooyoung finally speaks up, “Who is it and why do you need our help with it?”

Dark Wooyoung smirks, “It’s a couple. A married couple. Rumor has it they went into hiding years ago.”

My heart starts to pound. My parents went into hiding when I was young. I lived with my grandparents and they never spoke about my parents, even when I asked.

“Left behind a baby girl.” Dark Wooyoung focuses his gaze on me and stalks closer. “Her grandparents raised her.” Dark Wooyoung grabs my forearm and holds it in the air.

Wooyoung grabs Dark Wooyoung’s other arm but Dark Wooyoung keeps his gaze on me.

“Do you think their daughter is enough to drag them out of hiding?” Dark Wooyoung smirks, gripping my arm harder.

I force myself to ignore the pain in my arm. “My parents haven’t been in my life for a single memorable moment. What makes you think they’d give up their fake realities for mine?”

Dark Wooyoung leans closer but Wooyoung wedges himself between us, putting a hand on his chest.

“Call it a mother’s instinct. They always come flocking when their baby is in danger.” He snarks.

“Back off, Woo.” Wooyoung growls lowly and I can feel the anger radiating off of him.

Dark Wooyoung smirks and tightens his grip on my arm. A squeak of pain escapes before I can stop it.

“And what are you going to do?” Dark Wooyoung challenges, getting up in Wooyoung’s face. “Call the police? You want to explain this situation to the cops? That would make you an accomplice.”

Wooyoung lowers his head and his breathing becomes heavier.

“We don’t to leave precious (y/n), alone, now would we?” Dark Wooyoung clicks his tongue.

Before I can process what is happening, Wooyoung shoves Dark Wooyoung hard. Dark Wooyoung, being shocked at Wooyoung’s actions, lets go of my arm and stumbles backwards.

“This is how you want to settle this?” Dark Wooyoung taunts, “You know I have years of experience. You really want to do this, brother?” He tosses his hat to the side and rolls up his sleeves, revealing tattoos scattered on his skin.

Wooyoung tugs off his sweater, “I told you I am not your brother.”

I rub my arm and watch as Wooyoung charges at Dark Wooyoung. They start swinging their fists and maneuvering their bodies to avoid the other. Wooyoung manages to knock Dark Wooyoung to the ground. With another stomp on his leg, Wooyoung turns towards me.

“Get outta here.” He waves me away. “I’ll come find you, just-“ He yells as Dark Wooyoung grabs his legs and begins to tackle him to the ground.

I watch as the two wrestle each other, flipping each other over and over. Soon their shirts begin to resemble a spinning Yin Yang. By the time I decide to find a hiding spot, I can’t tell who is who anymore.

I run through the train station, looking for a spot to stay. I know Wooyoung said to get out but I can’t leave him completely alone. I just can’t.

The old ticket booth catches my eye and I make my way over to it, surrounded by the echos of the struggle still underway. Kneeling down below the desk, I slowly close the door as far as it will go and pray that my Wooyoung makes it out alive.

After what feels like hours, and many shouts laters, I hear one of them scream out and then silence. Fearing the worst, I cover my ears, squeeze my eyes shut, and lower my head to my knees. My heart is pounding against my rib cage like an angry gorilla. I tell myself over and over and over that Wooyoung was able to win over Dark Wooyoung. It has to be that way. It has to be.

Metal clatters onto the concrete and echos through the station followed by dragging feet and heavy breathing.

Too scared to look who’s coming, I stay crouched in the ticket booth. My skin crawls as the person comes closer and closer. The sound feels like rubbing the roughest sandpaper against a rock. Just grinding down with no smooth finish.

“(Y/n)?” Wooyoung’s voice croaks out. “Are you still here?”

Through the crack in the door, I take a peak at who’s out there.

With a limp, he walks into view. His clothes are all torn but the red blood shining against the white t-shirt tells me all I need to know. Scrambling from my hiding spot, I push the door open, and watch the relief wash over Wooyoung’s features.

He opens his arms and I fall right into his embrace. Pulling back after a few seconds, I examine his face. His lip is busted and he’s going to have a black eye and many more bruises in the morning but his eyes haven’t lost their shine.

I smile and brush back some of his hair, “You’re okay.”

He smiles back, “I’m okay, and we’ll be okay.” Wooyoung reaches for my arm, “Are you okay?”

I nod. “What happened?” I ask as we slowly make our way out of the train station.

“We fought, he pulled out a knife, I took control of it, and well,” Wooyoung looks down at the ground, “Simply put, I’m the one that made it out alive.”

“What about the body?” I question, no worried that the police may actually get involved.

Wooyoung shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Mom made dad put in a fail safe sort of bond between the other guy’s chemical compounds.” Wooyoung wipes at the blood still seeping from his lip. “He made it so the compounds would fall apart if the heart no longer beats.”

“So stab him through the heart and will just disappear. Literally.” I reiterate.

Wooyoung touches his nose, “Bingo.”

We continue to walk towards his apartment as the sun sets in the West.

“Do you think my parents would’ve actually come out of hiding?” I ask.

Wooyoung stops walking and turns me towards him.

“Don’t dwell on anything he said.” He looks me dead in the eyes with a serious expression, “Nothing he said can be taken factually or seriously. He’s always been a liar and a cheat. Please don’t dwell on that. We both know that you are where you are because your grandparents raised you and they did a damn good job.” Wooyoung presses a kiss onto my forehead, “I will make damn sure to follow in their footsteps.”

I smile and push Wooyoung away, “Oh shut up, you sappy sap.” I hook my arm around his waist and we start walking again.

As we reach his apartment doorsteps, the sun almost fully below the horizon. The fading red glow runs away from the dark of the night that follows it.

Grandma used to say that if I ever found a man, he’d have to be as great as Grandpa, or better, to even stand a chance. Even though there couldn’t be anyone who’s greater than Grandpa, I think tonight proves that Wooyoung’s pretty damn close.

#ateez #ateez imagine #ateez wooyoung #ateez wooyoung imagine #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung imagine

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ofieugogyshz · 5 years ago

Text

Booth: Boogiepop Tarot

“I'm not sure I understand why you couldn't wear what you normally wear...”

“It's for the aesthetics, Mr. Champion. I'd expect you of all people to understand the importance of presentation!”

This exchange happened at one very visually appealing stall, between two people who were at work, setting it up in the hours before the festival opened to the public. The stall had a quaint, yet mystical atmosphere to it, a subtle otherworldliness to it. There were no skulls or symbols implicating something demonic or magical in nature. But the black, wine red, and purple color scheme, the layabout crystals and candles, the stars that hung from the tent poles which glittered in the day and glowed in the dark; fairy lights that would be visible at night, but during the day were hidden in the rafters, covered by flower chains and vines; the occasional witch's ladder hung in various spots, ending with bottles of herbs, powder, or glitter as a means to catch a wavering eye... All this had been an assortment of things that appealed to the one running the booth. They had desired something that gave a very mystical, almost magical vibe, but didn't buy directly into a gothic vibe or skirted the spring theme that they had to work with. Perhaps it had been a bit overdone, but it all added up to an intriguing and unusual display.

The person running the booth was a non-binary individual signed up under the name of “Boogiepop”. Naturally, this wasn't the actual Boogiepop. But the tarot reader who had set about organizing the booth certainly had taken it upon themselves to look the part.

They wore a long cloak that covered their entire body, hiding their heavyset form under shapeless navy blue. When visible, the inside of the cloak was lined with a nebulae pattern in a reddish hue. A long, stove-pipe shaped hat adorned their head. What looked like miniature knobs and trinkets littered the front of the hat, as it was held down by a chain across the crown. Brown hair was tucked under the hat, except for two strands that framed their face. From their ears dangled gold stars along gold chains of varying length; they wore a large wire ear cuff that had stars on it, beautiful and simple. This Boogiepop wore black lipstick that glittered in a mysterious way, adding to the intrigue that the individual hoped to bring.

Across their shoulders was a rather long belt that ended in a large yin-yang symbol in the middle, seeming to hold it up. It had a black and white zigzag pattern. Shorter belts, in a plain brown color, seemed to be worn as bracelets and anklets, though these were only visible when the cloak was thrown open, or a hand was reaching across to turn a card or position a crystal. Solid black nail polish coated their fingertips, a stark contrast to the shimmer and shine of the booth itself, and the rest of the adornments that the reader had added to their costume.

There was a certain image that this person had in mind for their stall's display, and they definitely strove to bring it to life.

“Besides,” they continued, as they reached into a box and pulled out various crystals and gems to adorn their tables and display, “I'm not always about pink and sparkly cheer! I mean, sure, this would have been the perfect opportunity to go ham on that with whatever I've got in my closet, but I don't have to!! There's nothing wrong with a little black now and then; spring sprouts from the dead of winter, the end of a beginning! Oh, don't give me that look,” they said, cutting themselves off in a huff as their husband stifled a laugh at their words while he helped make sure that the poles for the stall's covering were secure.

He stopped where he was working, covering his mouth with his fist as he chuckled at the overanalyzing ramble his wife went on, the attempt to make an excuse to wear that particular costume, but they had already noticed it and puffed out their cheeks in a pout.

“I'm sorry; you're just so cute when you ramble on like that.”

Their cheeks flushed red and they turned away sharply, quickly busying themselves with putting decorations down at another table.

Nearby, a Pikachu helped decorate. A small, traditional-styled witch's hat was on the Pikachu's head, as her long ears poked through the brim of the hat so as to keep it in place. The reader glanced up from their work to look at their Pikachu's progress. She ran across the front crying about happily as she helped place flowers and crystals down.

“Ahh! Pika, try not to put too many flowers down. I know it's a spring festival, but I want the gemstones to be noticeable, too...” The trainer watched as their Pikachu nodded, and sprinted away with a mouthful of the flowers it had just sat down, placing them gently back in a small bucket that housed many other flowers that were being used to decorate. The festival had supplied these, so as to help encourage the spring vibes for each of the people who had signed up for a stall.

When this stall's “Boogiepop” had heard about the festival, they had hurriedly signed themselves up as a vendor, completely ignoring the fact that part of the importance of the festival was for families and couples. ...Which was part of the reason why they had initially been drawn to the Spring Festival. But when they saw their niche interest listed among one of the potential booths that one could hold, their mind instantly changed gears as hyperfixation took hold. What went from a planned, simple date outing with their spouse instantly became a frenzied, excited need to make up a huge display and share something that they rarely got to share publicly. And now, they had roped their husband into helping them set up and keep them company between patrons.

But that was not an issue at all. The two did not get nearly enough time together recently, so any excuse would have sufficed. “Boogiepop” looked over at their husband, smiling as they remembered this.

When everything had been laid out, the last thing they did was put out the divination decks. Carefully, they set down five deck boxes of varying sizes on a table along the side of their reading table. They were spaced out a certain amount, as though to give each deck room for themselves. Three more decks were placed down on the much larger center table, which would be the working space for any potential clients. A large reading cloth covered the circular, center table. It showcased constellations across the night sky, naming each one that appeared. There was the casual adjustment of a nearby crystal, or some other trinket that added to the visual, aesthetic appeal of the whole booth.

Their husband watched as his wife picked up each deck individually, closing their eyes for a moment, whispering a few words before they put it back down and picked up the next deck. They had done this for each of the eight decks that they had brought. Though he didn't understand much about how tarot reading worked, or why his wife felt such a pull towards it, it didn't matter. He loved watching them focused on something. He loved the excitement that they got as everything started to come together during the time they had spent setting up together. He loved watching them.

Incense was lit as the festival attendees had begun their stroll inside the festival park. It was a very earthy, grounding blend that helped gave a sense of calm to any passersby that smelled it.

The tarot reader finally sat down at their center table. Tarot cards had been kept in their boxes for the time being, though the reader themselves longed to begin shuffling. Maybe just a single card, to get their mind focused and at ease...?

“You know, your costume doesn't seem very spring-like at all,” commented their husband, breaking the silence immediately.

They let out a sigh. It was much better to let their hyperfixation rest for the time being, so they wouldn't burn out early. They'd hate to have spent all this time and energy setting up, only to be unable to focus on a reading after an hour or two.

“Yeah, well,” they started, turning to look at their husband. “I'm surprised that you didn't come in uniform for once,” they said, pursing their lips in a mock-pout. They rested their elbow on the table as they spoke, putting their chin in their hand.

It was true. Their husband was normally seen in much more dramatic clothing, usually accompanied by a cape. Today, however, he had gone for something more simple. A black turtleneck shirt with long sleeves, and khaki pants. “Boogiepop” had half expected their spouse to look no less jarring amongst festival goers than they did themselves in costume, as his typical outfit was iconic of his position, and only felt slightly dismayed that they were now the one overdressed. They scanned him up and down, from his spiked red hair all the way down to the shoes he wore, and back up, meeting his blue eyes.

“Are you cold-blooded or something?” they asked suddenly, a critical eye on his outfit. “It's the beginning of May. Aren't you hot in that?”

There was only a brief pause as their husband considered his response, looking down at what he wore.

“Well. If we were to ask your 'twelve-year-old self', apparently the answer would be yes.” He gave them a teasing grin, earning a huge eye roll and sputtering fluster from his wife.

“Oh. my. Fucking. God. – I can't. I can't even with you right now. – No, no. You know what?” they said, grabbing a deck like they were brandishing a weapon. They quickly rifled through the cards. When they found what they were looking for, they slammed the deck back down on the table, and held out the card to their lover.

“Just for that--! The Tower! Everything falls to ruins, because you just ruined it,” they declared, cheeks still flushed hot red from embarrassment.

Had the reader's booth caught the eye of any passersby, maybe they had heard part of this conversation. Perhaps they even watched as it occurred. Or maybe it was the playful teasing, the banter and fluster, that caught one's interest, and the surrounding booth, with all its decor, finished drawing them in.

Regardless of how one approached, there would be a Pikachu in a witchy hat to greet you cheerfully, running alongside you as it tried to bring you in. And the tarot reader and their husband would look up from whatever they were doing when they heard that Pikachu.

“Welcome,” began the tarot reader, as they gave their best monotone impression. “If it interests you, you may ask me any question you seek to know. You may find yourself learning information about yourselves that does not please; or perhaps it was information you already knew? Do you wish to go back to the beginning, to find the root of all causes? Or do you simply wish to watch the here and now? Feel free to seek, but do not be afraid of the answer--” and there was a pause, as though they were forgetting their lines.

“Ahh, forget it. I'm doing single card readings if you're interested. What do you wanna know? Please make sure to mind the rules posted by the entrance. Oh, and don't mind the husband, he's just here because he loves me,” they will say, as the two will look at each other and smile. “Tell me your question, because I know the cards will have a lot more to say to you if you don't.”

#selfship spring festival #self ship community #pokemon self ship #remaking the posts now that i'm at a heckkin computer so sorry #i'll do my best to tag posts with that if anyone wants to block it #i forgot what tags i was gonna put here LOL #writing

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justice-for-shayla · 6 years ago

Text

Chicken/Egg

A/N: The prompt was Sex before Love and Mutual Pining and I went all the way off. I guess I had something to get off my chest.

Word Count: 1941

Warnings: Sexual content, though not graphic, scary academic situations, angst, complete lack of editing,

Tag List: I’m tagging people who liked the prompt ask and some writers I admire in the hopes that people will read this because I’m very proud of it. @sassystrawberryk, @lieblingliebgott, @r-ahh-mi, @rami-hoe, @elliotmercury

Your acquaintance started with crowds.

He was a face you saw in a coffee shop, the only person who was there as often and as long as you were. You spoke for the first time when he came over to your table, awkward as all hell.

“Is someone sitting here?”

The empty chair in front of you was a challenge. You both . knew perfectly well that you came in here nearly every day and spent hours working on one assignment or another, and no one had ever joined you. You had seen him watching you, and he had seen you watching him right back. The fact that the lunch rush had the place so packed that there really was no option other than for strangers to share was just the thing that finally made it impossible for the two of you to keep ignoring each other.

“No.”

He shuffled, worrying the strap of his bag. “Can I sit there?” He gestured at the crowd, at all the full tables, at the first dates and business meetings and tired moms catching up.

You nodded and shifted your stuff on the table, allowing him a bit of space. “Sure.”

It took all of three minutes for him to get annoying. He didn’t have to say anything-- people rarely did with you-- it was apparent without words. He typed way to fucking fast.

The stupid clicking was rattling around in your head, driving all the very salient points you’d been trying to put into your essay out of your head. “Could you not?” You snapped after a minute?

“What?” He looked up at you with an expression like you’d yanked him out of a movie theater in the middle of the show.

“The… clicking. It’s annoying.”

He looked at his hands. “Um, sure.”

To his credit, he did try, and you appreciated that, so even when it kept being annoying you didn’t say anything else.

The next time you came in in the middle of the lunch rush, you saw him tucked in the corner like a shadow, and beelined for his table, rather than make eye-contact with the guy who was clearly trying to pack up the nerve to offer you his spare chair.

“Do you mind?” You asked, already putting your stuff down.

He just nodded.

His typing was less annoying today somehow, and you did your work in silence while he did his, neither of you overly concerned with the other’s presence.

Your friendship started with panic.

Sitting with him had become natural, an easy second-best to sitting alone. Neither of you bothered to ask before sitting anymore.

“Morning, Y/N,” He said, surprising you as you sat down.

“You know my name?” You asked, running through your limited conversations trying to remember when you’d told him that.

“Your coffee,” He said, “I noticed it last time.”

You stared at the cup, the barista’s scrawl marking out a slightly misspelled but legible version of your name. “Right.” You looked at his. “Ed? Huh, doesn’t fit somehow. Shit, sorry that was rude.”

“It’s not my real name,” He said casually, not looking up from his screen. “I’m Elliot.”

“You give a fake name when ordering coffee?” You asked.

He looked up at you, his eyes humorless and level. “It’s funny.”

“Right…” With that, you went back to your work.

Two hours later, you fucked something up. Your dissertation, nearly complete, nearly perfect, worth more to you than gold at this point, was gone.

“How? What the…” You searched through all your folders, sure that it had been moved somehow. Sure that this page, which said “File corrupted” in terrifyingly simple text, was somehow not your precious magnum opus. “How?”

Abruptly, your throat is closing and your eyes are filling with tears. “No… No, this can’t be--”

“Are you okay?” You had completely forgotten Elliot, he was so quiet, and in his dark clothes he slipped easily into the background, which is how you thought he wanted it.

You shook your head. “No, I… I did something dumb. I’m not even sure what-- My dissertation is gone.”

There was a small silence while expressions flitted across his face like he was arguing with himself. “Can I see?”

“I doubt there’s anything you can do, see it says that the file is corrupted. Christ, i don’t even know what that means.”

Those eyes, which you were just now noticing were the most interesting color you’d ever seen, scanned over your screen. “Give me a minute.”

His fingers flitted over your keyboard, typing in languages you couldn’t make sense of. You vowed that if he managed this, you would never be irritated by his typing again. He was almost exactly right; a little over a minute later he said, “Is this it?”

“Holy Christing Fuck,” You said, staring at your paper, risen from the dead like a sexy intellectual dracula. Unthinkingly, you stood up and moved around the table to wrap your arms around his neck.

He flinched, and you leapt back. “Christ, I’m so sorry. I have no sense of boundaries, I’m so sorry. Just… holy shit, thank you.”

In that moment, you could have kissed him, could have done a great many things to express your gratitude, not that you would have told him that.

“It’s fine,” He said, looking away from you. “Uh, you’re welcome.”

Somehow, that weirdness broke the ice, and after that you talked--Chatted!--whenever you sat together, and he even started walking you home if it got dark while you were there. He never answered when you asked what he was doing, but seeing as he lied about his name for coffee, this didn’t surprise or offend you. He was quirky; you liked that.

Fucking Elliot started because of the heat.

It got hot in New York in the summer, the ugly, sticky, shit-smelling heat that clogged pores and ruined moods. You had turned in your dissertation and were now researching a book, but your days looked the same as they always had. You woke up, you drank coffee, you researched and wrote.

And Elliot was there. Even when the heat got bad, he walked you home and didn’t take off his hoodie. You had kind of started to think about taking it off for him. Weeks and months sitting across from him at those stupid cafe tables had called certain things to your attention. His long fingers, his eyes which were so strangely colored and so fascinatingly keen, his low, steady voice which you were sure sounded amazing when it was gravelly with sex.

You didn’t say anything, remembering your disastrous attempt at hugging him, but at night you fantasized about those hands, those eyes, and that voice.

One day, it all crashed around you, like something out of a movie neither of you would like. He walked you home on a sweaty saturday, where thick clouds hung over the city like wool blankets, making the air soupy and hard to breathe. You were walking, a block away from your apartment when they finally released their burden in a sudden onslaught.

You were soaked through in an instant but you ran anyway and Elliot ran with you, his limbs flying strangely like he’d only heard of running, and was just now trying it out. If you hadn’t been floundering in a rain-soaked white dress you probably would have stopped to laugh at him.

As it was, you both powered to your building door, and strangely, he didn’t stop at the stoop like normal, he followed you up the stairs, right to your door.

His hair was stuck to his forehead, his hoodie sodden and clinging to him, and he was frozen in place staring at you.

What had been loose, flowing white fabric--perfect for the heat--was now transparent and plastered against your skin, highlighting every detail. He licked his lips, paused for a beat, and then put his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

He did, and after a moment of frantic grasping at hair and clothes and keys and doorknobs, you both fell into your apartment and he pressed you against the wall and held you there.

Both of you had to get out of all those wet clothes, the urgency perhaps more extreme because of how much you wanted him inside you in that moment. Your dress fell next to his hoodie, winding around it like a strange, artistic yin-yang sign on the floor, which you barely had time to notice before he brought his lips back to yours and on your neck and then your chest, your nipples.

You had been right about his voice. It had been good before, but low and rough with need and desperation while he thrust into you, it was something else altogether. You wished you could have kept the sound he let out when he came for another rainy day, one when he wasn’t here and you would have to take care of yourself.

After that, you had sex regularly. The heat and the sweat of the New York summer didn’t subside, and the two of you made your apartment that much hotter, but somehow you didn’t mind. Elliot was surprisingly good in bed, and when he wasn’t, he listened and learned well. It was a perfect situation, he wasn’t too much in your life, and you weren’t too much in his, exactly as you wanted it.

Except that you started to talk after you fucked. He told you about his parents and his sister, and you told him about your classmates and your book. You learned that he wanted to help people, that he was lonely most of the time but that he cared deeply about things he would never speak of.

You started to love him because of him.

Because of all that kindness wrapped in all that damage. He was so perfectly your type, and you connected with him better than you had with anyone else, but not on that level. No, Elliot didn’t love you the way you loved him. You watched him become comfortable in your apartment and imagined him moving in, living with you in your shitty overpriced studio. He hadn’t even invited you over to his place.

But he let you in in other ways. He showed you his favorite movies and he would lay down with his head in your lap, no longer skittish about touching you. You let yourself believe that these things meant something, even though there was no way. Distance was what Elliot did best.

Still, you couldn’t pull away from him, not even to save your sorry excuse for a heart. You kept sleeping with him, sharing coffee with him, yearning for him whenever he looked away from you.

It was pathetic, and you couldn’t even really care. You wanted him, and you wished he wanted you. It was classic, the very definition of romance from those books you’d pretentiously enjoyed as a teenager.

For weeks, you assumed it was one-sided, that Elliot would never see this as more than a casual fuck between friends, but it changed rapidly, shifting in an instant just like everything in your relationship had before.

He was dozing off on your chest, laying over you in the slow, heavy moments after a particularly good orgasm when he muttered, quietly but perfectly distinctly in his beautiful voice, “I love you.”

Though you wanted to cry, or to leap out of bed and punch the air, you simply smiled and pressed a kiss against his head in an easy little affectionate gesture you’d been denying yourself. “I love you too.”

#Elliot Alderson #Elliot Alderson x Reader #Elliot Alderson Imagine #Elliot x Reader #rami malek x reader #rami malek imagine

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youreallyshouldtalkmore · 7 years ago

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ErikXNice Girl Headcannons

This is dedicated to all my nice girls out there. Here's more a sweet with a bit of sour romance with Erik rather than *cough cough*, if you catch my meaning. Mostly because I need this...so it greatly reflects how I would act with Erik but I think many other women could enjoy this.

So although Erik probably wouldn't really have a healthy romantic relationship and probably just got his needs met, we know how it works in fanfic: a psychopathic male character usually ends up having a broken side that needs just the right girl to attend to.

And since I believe that with Erik's history, he does have a literal broken side (read he is probably 100% broken inside) I came up with an "Erik meets a Nice/Innocent girl" story in bullet points. I hoped that I kept a middle ground between, his evil side and broken side. I want it to be sweet but not strip Erik of his swagger.

But after writing this, I'll stand by it all.

I just *swoon*...

So without further ado. Warning this looooong:

The two of you met in a museum. You were looking at an art piece and questioned why did you come if you could get the same information with a basic search online?

Erik was surprised at your question. It was a question that said you had a clear interest, a deeper one, than the average museum goers. The average museum goer would just read the card and keep on going.

To this day, Erik had no idea why he spoke in answer to your question, but he did. He agreed that the card didn't fully capture what the piece was about. He wasn't trying to show off but he did add a few extra details he knew about the piece. A natural conversation started behind that...

You were there with an interest in your own background. Having done a DNA test, you were interested learning more on the heritage you couldn't find out so readily. Erik like that. It's been awhile since he heard of someone who was interested to know more about their identity.

One response in the conversation that you said was, "I believe it's important for us, especially as African Americans to be aware of our identity and where we come from. It's important to find history that we can be proud of. The sum total of our history should not be the slave trade. By taking the DNA test I can discover a direction and try to find history about that. I know it's out there but trying to find it can be challenging..."

You had laughed it off but Erik shook his head. No, he respected and admired that. And he agreed. (Secretly he was impressed but was unable to verbalize it even to his own self)

The two of you spent your time together looking at the exhibits, Erik explaining things that were not on the sheet. You were surprised at his knowledge especially since it's obvious he is not a worker there.

Towards the end of your time, you had bid him goodbye and thanked him for all the information that you had learned. You had learned more than you ever hope to. (Yes, you were that type to make notes on your phone...and he was vaguely amused at this.)

After you left, Erik realized there was something off. It took him a few seconds to figure it out. It was the first time that he felt a sense of peace. It was so foreign to him it threw him off track. He actually enjoyed walking around with you and talking to you. He didn't remember the last time he felt so relaxed.

And he tried to shake off this feeling. You were just a passerby in life. He would forget about you come the morning.

But, shoot, he didn't even know your name!

That's fine. Whatever.

But it wasn't fine because as the moments slipped away, he found that the thought of not knowing your name or even seeing you again....

So he rushes out hoping that he can catch you. Fate was on his side, for once, and you were out of the museum and halfway down the stairs.

He called out and you turned around, surprised to see him there.

Erik ran and stopped before you. Internally, he knew this was when he'd drop a "Can I get your digits and hit you up some time?" But strangely it felt wrong to say that to you.

But you were looking at him so innocently, waiting for him to say something. What should he say? How should he say it?

"I didn't get your name." he says. You give your name and Erik gives you his. It was clear you were waiting for him to say something else. But you didn't look impatient and almost was a bit amused.

"Do you have facebook?" It was the first response he had. He hadn't used it much since graduating MIT but perhaps a social media exchange wouldn't freak you out too much.

You looked at him, with slight suspicion? He couldn't tell, but he could tell you were thinking about it. Finally you gave a smile and agree. (He didn't realize the relief he felt when you agreed) So the two of you exchanged face book IDs.

It took Erik about an hour to figure out what his password was. Eventually, he got a password reset. (Should have done that in the first place) Erik found he was nervous, wondering if you gave him your real FB ID. But upon seeing your photo, he was reassured.

Though he realized by now that there must have been something wrong with him. He wasn't a stranger to women but he had no feelings about them. Whether their feelings were hurt or not wasn't high on his list. But with you, something warned him and held him back from his usual flippant attitude. He found that he was interested in furthering the conversation you all had not just skipping to business.

To that end, the two of you communicated on FB for two months. He found that he enjoyed and looked forward to chatting with you. You were easy to talk to and it blew his mind that someone like you existed in this world.

You were a humanitarian, giving to the people and communities around you. You had a fondness for art and would post many illustrations and artwork and art pieces you liked and founded.

Eventually, he had to go on a mission and wouldn't be back for another month. He told you he was in the military and would be out of touch. You wished him all the best and safe journey there and back.

He never had anyone wish for his safety.

Upon coming back from his mission, he was angry again and had quite forgotten about the FB exchanged that seemed a distance dream. But when he opened his computer he was stunned to see that you had almost once a week, wished him the best and hoped he was staying safe.

Erik was confused as to what to do with you. He couldn't treat you like he would other woman. It was obvious you were more than a toy. It took a lot to remember there was such a thing as a date, something he had never been on. Usually, his "date" consists of picking up a woman from the bar and that was only when the itch became too great.

But then all of a sudden, he sniffed at the idea. A date? He was seriously thinking of asking a woman out on a proper date? Has he lost his mind? What nice and respectable girl would go out on a date with him?

This made him all kinds of moody and for the next month he ignored and avoided FB. You knew that he was supposed to be back in a month but he didn't contact you for the next month. So your well-wishes continued but quite a bit more frequently. You hoped that he was safe, that he wasn't dead. You asked him to contact you to let you know that he was alive at the very least and that you were worried at what this extra time meant. But you also said if he was hurt or ill he needed to take care of himself before responding to you.

This weakened Erik's resolve. Someone was actually caring about his life? So he finally logged back in and replied. Your joy at his safety made him stunned for five minutes at least.

Suddenly the need to see you was so overwhelming to Erik that he thought again about asking you out on the date.

This time it didn't send him into a dark funk.

But it took him three days to ask you on FB if you'd go on a date with him. In hindsight he should have waited until he knew that you were online because by the time he had managed to press the send button it was would be the next day before you sent a reply.

Erik sat for five minutes staring at the reply. "Yes, I would love to."

Erik didn't quite know what you'd like but he wanted it to be simple and comfortable. He didn't have a tuxedo and he was not going to be comfortable in an upscale place. Didn't women like those kinds of things? Did you expect him to take you to such places?

This might have sent him into another foul mood except that he had already asked you out and he couldn't shut you down like that. (I mean, he could but why did the idea twist his stomach?)

So he settled on taking you to a play that was in town. He wondered if you were expecting more but he noticed your delight in watching the play. Thankfully, you didn't ask him too much about it afterwards but he realized while you were watching the play, he was watching you.

And it dawned on him what he was attracted so attracted to. Yes, you were very pretty but there was something else that Erik couldn't figure out. Until now. Your beauty had something else mixed with it....an innocence that he had long ago lost. It was why he couldn't treat you like he did other women. It was also why he felt relaxed with you.

Unlike other woman, you weren't cussing and screaming at him or others. (Was this a fair question if he picked up girls from a bar? He couldn't tell) You weren't loud and bossy. You spoke quite demurely, yet he knew that the strength laid in your thoughts not your projection of voice. You laughed quiet charmingly without it splitting his eardrums. And your voice was smooth and relaxing in his opinion. Quite a nice sound

He vowed then that you would not know the real work he did. You would not know what his goal truly was. But when he became King, he knew he would bring you to see Wakanda. You would be his Queen. His yang to his yin.

The two of you began to see each other. Erik never made untoward advances that made you uncomfortable. Though he did managed to get a first kiss from you. It was sweet like you, instead of rough like the woman he usually was with.

Erik still remembers the first time he accidentally let you see the angry side of him. He was rarely angry around you but this time he came back from another mission. It was late morning on a Sunday and to this day, he would never know what possessed him to swing by your apartment. Especially when he vowed you would not know this part of him.

But he was so angry and you were so peaceful. He felt he needed that soothing balm because this time the anger was so prominent he felt he would blow before his time. You were surprised to see him, so soon but happy that he was alive and safe and allowed him inside.

However you realized very quickly that something was wrong with him. He was a taunt bowstring and you couldn't get him to sit down. When you finally coaxed him to say something at least he blew up and had an angry expletive tirade.

The tirade didn't quite make sense to you but you allowed him to get the feelings out of his system. When he was spent he slumped down on the couch. It took him a few minutes before he seemed to come back to himself and he looked up at you.

Erik barely remembers what he was ranting about but when he came back to himself, he found himself tense in the silence. Why did he come here? Why did he say all of that to you? He should have done what he normally did and worked off the anger to a manageable level not come here and bombard you with this.

But Erik schooled and hardened himself. If you threw him out that wouldn't be no one's fault but his own. So when he looked at you, expecting to see censure, he saw sympathy and understanding.

"It must have been difficult for you." you say. You told him (not asked) that you were going to make him breakfast. Instead of coffee, you offered him tea.

Once Erik realized you weren't going to kick him out, he asked for coffee instead. "I want coffee, straight black."

You didn't miss a beat. "You are already wired up. You need something to calm you down not get you more hyped up than you are." Coming from anyone else would have set him off on a tirade but the smell of it was already calming him. So when it was finished, he drink it like he did his coffee, straight laced even though you offer honey, sugar and lemon.

He found he did calm down. (And might have made him into a side tea-drinker...)

But finally the day came when he knew that he would be going to Wakanda soon. He noticed that you figured out that he didn't tell you everything but did not pressure him. You gave him his usual "stay safe" speech that he quite looked forward too and he left.

Now if you know anything about me, I love happy endings, but I also wanted to do an ending more in line with the movie, so, alternate endings time:

Sad Ending

A couple of weeks later, a knock came that afternoon. When you answered it, there was a man that called himself T'Challa, the King of Wakanda and was also Erik's cousin.

He gave you a video that Erik had asked him to give you. You had broken down there.

It took you two days, before you could watch the video. Erik explained his true mission and how he made this video because he owed you an explanation.

He said that being with you was the happiest time of his life. Away from the anger that drowned him. From the first day, he had felt a kind of peace that had been denied to him. He hoped that you would never lose that

He had plans for you. Plans he really wished he could have made reality. If he had been King, you would have been Queen helping others alongside him because he'd seen your nurturing side and knew you would have made a great Queen Mother. More than that, selfishly, he wanted you to be his wife.

That video was the first time that Erik told you that he loved you. And he always will, but he wants you to continue to share yourself to the world. "Make some other poor sap happy. At least do that in my honor and I'll be straight over here. Okay, baby? I love you. Peace out."

You got a job working with the Wakanda outreach and always sought to honor Erik Steven's memory.

Happy Ending

A couple of weeks later, a knock came that afternoon. When you answered it, there was a man that called himself T'Challa, the King of Wakanda and was also Erik's cousin. He was there to take you to Wakanda where Erik was recovering.

On the way, he told you to the story of what had happened. They had managed to revive Erik and he was furious about this. (Despite the fact that Erik must have been hanging on because T'challa realized he was still alive hours later)

Erik didn't mention you to him, but he found the tape with your name and address on it. (And the fact that, Erik had cried out your name in his sleep was a tip off but we won’t discuss that). He figured it couldn't hurt to track you down and bring you to Erik. You were shocked at all that you learned, though it did fill in the missing gaps.

When Erik saw that you were there, he was absolutely furious with T'Challa, as in stark raving mad. It had startled you because you had not seen this side of him before. His previous tirade at your house paled in comparison. But you quickly recovered and declared that you weren't going anywhere. Erik dared to glare at you but you returned his stare.

During this time was the first time you saw him without his shirt and saw the scars. Erik goaded you on about them. "Ugly, eh? You know what they mean? Huh? Each one is a sin committed. Each one a life I took. I killed, you know. In Afghanistan, in Iraq, even our own brothers and sisters right here on this continent. What do you think now, baby? You scared? You ought to be. You could be next if you aren't careful."

If Erik wasn't trying to goad a negative response out of you, he seemed to straight up ignore you. He also had no filter in what he was saying and would say things to purposely provoke you.

You made friends with Shuri and were quite interested in Erik's health, especially his mental health. They managed to cure his physical ailments but there wasn't much they could do for the mental.

When Erik realized you weren't leaving it seemed to make him even angrier. In his opinion you should have left long ago (Actually you shouldn't even be here to start). He kept laying into T'Challa every which way he could. "You call this a mercy, huh? Saving me? You should have left me to die. Bury me in the ocean that was the only thing I requested of you and you couldn't even do that right!"

This was the first time that Erik saw you go off. You were angry that he obviously wanted to die, that he saw no hope for the future. You were angry that he had no will to fight to live. So you challenged him, "If we gave you a way to commit suicide, would you? Let me answer that, it's no because if you were that weak or strong depending on your point of view to commit suicide you would have done it long ago. All this drama wouldn't have happened and we wouldn't have met."

After your tantrum you promptly turned and apologize to King T'Challa, Shuri and Okyoe who was privy to it. It's not in your nature to fly off a handle and you apologize for your lack of decorum. Not one of them minded and they liked you more.

To say that Erik was stunned at your temper tantrum (on his behalf) was an understatement. The days that followed, left him in a deep sulk as he mulled over your words.

But after, your temper tantrum, Erik did begin to let you attend to him. And once again, Erik found himself relaxing more around you. So much, even the others noticed. And they may have noticed that Erik accepting your tea that you insisted on making.

Shuri (out of Erik's earshot) would joke about it. "If we knew that's what it took, we would have brewed some long ago." You laughed and said, "It has to specially made, Shuri." "Oooh, I get it, it's the love that goes into the tea." That remark got you all flustered.

Eventually a year or so later, T'Challa offered Erik a position working with Wakanda outreach if he wanted. By this time, Erik was slowly putting a life together and agreed to it. And by this time, although he lost none of his snark, he begrudging began to find himself with a family with T'Challa and Shuri.

You came to work with the Wakandian Outreach program as well.

Eventually, during a lazy date, Erik finally told you that he loved you. And a year later, the two of you were married. "Even though I am not a King. You'll always be my Queen, baby."

I know this was long but I hope you all enjoyed it!!

#black panther #black panther imagine #killmonger imagine #black panther killmonger #killmonger #killmonger x reader

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

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If Samson and Delilah Lived Happily Ever After (Sashea)- Melon

A/N:

To those of you who actually remember this fic: I’m so sorry. I know it’s been over four months. I know.

I’m a day later than I promised, but we always knew I was a liar. I also promised a weekly update schedule, too. I’m actually hoping to get back on that, or at least updating as much as I possibly can. I genuinely love this story, and I’m gonna get it done y'all, I swear.

This chapter (2k words) is about partially just Shea’s day, including a lot of character exploration for her, but not necessarily focused on the actual plot. It gives you a good sense of who Shea is in this world, but it’s not crucial to the story. The second half is the date! A lot of fluff, Sashea getting to know each other better, developing their dynamic, and just overall good gayness. I’m trying a new format for the poems, let me know what you think on my fic blog!

Part One Part Two Part Three Side Blog

Sasha and Shea swap schedules over the weekend, planning out the logistics in between banter. A movie takes too long, wouldn’t want to be late for the show; it’s too early for dinner and too late for lunch, and Shea doesn’t share Sasha’s belief that time is a social construct that should be ignored when at all possible; they’re broke as hell, so extravagant dates are a solid no. Sasha suggests meeting up at a fro-yo place in Bushwick and just walking around afterwards.

It’s a risk. Shea knows she wants Sasha, but she doesn’t really know her, not yet. A spark of chemistry across a room doesn’t secure a lifetime of happiness, or whatever, and it’s easy to forget how someone made her feel for a moment in the hours that followed it- plus there’s no time limit to an ‘eat and walk around’ date besides the show. The show they’re going to together.

They could run out of things to say.

Shea types out her agreement, they plan to meet three hours before the show. Being prepared for the worst has never hurt Shea in the past, but she can’t stand in her own way here.

———-

Saturday morning sees Shea up before dawn, dance bag in hand as she heads to the cheapest coffee shop within a ten mile radius. She’s exhausted, but she’s always exhausted, always moving, figuring out the bare minimum hours she has to work at her day job to pay rent and be able to buy a morning coffee when she desperately needs it.

She smiles at the barista despite her lack of sleep. Her mama raised her right.

The studio walls welcome her home when she arrives, unchanged since she last saw them two days ago. The sun is just coming above the city horizon, painting the room orange and shining in the wall of mirrors. Everything is either shadow or warmth, the safety of darkness succumbing to the small windows left of her without a fight. She rarely sees the dance hall in the daylight, usually arriving at closer to one AM for a late night practice. It’s pretty. It’s a little strange.

Facing the glass covered wall in front of her, Shea begins her stretches. Everything in the world around her slows with her body, moving like elastic bands, expanding as she pulls towards each limb’s end. She’s unaware of anything outside of her own vision, a movie that no one watched because the director chose to shoot in black-and-white despite making it in 2010.

This moment is what she lives for. It’s the power that comes only when she’s on, performing or practicing, facing down her own physical form or the limits of her creative mind. Shea is all powerful when she’s in artistic spaces, removed from the clatter of the world. She was born to be in a world of loud talking, messy bitches- but the calm of this moment is part of her, too.

The stretches morph into routines, mapping out ideas that push her body ever so slightly out of its comfort zone. She’s still connected to her physical form enough to know her limits. Somewhere in the distance, far away from her conscious, Shea’s phone is playing music and recording her spontaneous changes to the choreography.

It’s now that she thinks of Sasha, when she’s half in tune with her body and even less in tune with her mind.

Here, Shea is focusing on her heart.

The pragmatist still runs in the background, reminding her to keep an eye on the time, planning her outfit, telling her to wear sensible shoes even though pumps go better with those jeans, but it’s quieted.

The loudest voice says to remember the night she first saw Sasha. How Sasha looked at her the way so many had before her but better because Shea wanted to look at her back. How Shea doesn’t know her, but knows she wants to. How she ran the first night. And then, how she came back.

It helps that she’s a good kisser, too.

Her train of thought comes to a stop as the next song comes to an end, her time in the studio going with them. She’s almost surprised to see that the world continued on after she abandoned it, but the sun’s higher now, the streets below more crowded. Time to go home, get ready.

———-

Sasha finds Shea on a park bench outside Frosty’s five minutes before they’re supposed to meet up. She’s on her phone, scrolling through an endless stream of some social media that reflects in her sunglasses. God I hope it’s not Tumblr, Sasha thinks.

Shea glances up, smiling when she sees Sasha. “Hey, good looking,” she calls. “How’s it going?”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Sasha asks in her low, joking tone, hair bouncing with the movement of her head. Shea stands, reaching Sasha in a few long strides. She pulls her close, placing an air kiss on either cheek, separating with a gentle squeeze of Sasha’s waist. It’s all too fluid, too casual, to be reserved just for Sasha- but God does she wish it was.

“Come on, let’s head in.”

Many describe a perfect a perfect pair as two who contrast each other in every way, sharing only core pieces. Yin and Yang. The two that argue constantly but have a deeper understanding.

Those people missed Sasha and Shea entering a tiny frozen yogurt store side by side. They don’t stand stronger in stark contrast to each other, but rather gravitate towards each other because of how much they look like they belong in the same world.

Shea finishes choosing her flavors and toppings in under two minutes. Sasha takes…longer. She wants to try a new flavor but doesn’t want to sample each one that looks interesting. Shea’s glancing at her in both annoyance and amusement, her own yogurt already paid for. Sasha’s walking in between stations, eyebrows furrowed in a way that is not entirely unadorable. Shea can’t help but smile to herself. They have enough time for Shea to humor Sasha’s five minute internal struggle over dessert.

After way too long of a decision making process, Sasha steps up to the cashier, smiling as she hands him four dollars. Shea notes this, checking off the “nice to service industry workers” box in her mental list. It’s a small thing, but it says a lot.

The pair make their way out. Neither remembers who holds the door for who, but someone does and it’s nice. Sasha curves towards Shea once on the sidewalk, legs crossing as she walks. She’s radiating the midday sunshine right back at Shea.

“So who’s on for tonight?” She asks. Shea has to think for a moment, even though she set up the schedule. She hosts every other week, Trinity taking the other half of the schedule when she’s in town, so it’s hard to keep up with who she planned last time she hosted and who she has tonight.

“Well, there’s Val, I think, if she shows up. Aja for sure, Nina, myself, and Trinity.” The cast is a genuinely good one, especially Aja, who usually reserves her poetry for her house meetings.

“Val was really interesting last time. I don’t fully remember what she said, but I remember being impressed by how she captivates a crowd,” Sasha pauses, thinking of how to word her observation of the poet, “The audience see as the embodiment of an idealistic worldview, which I actually agree with- she is. She’s beautiful, positive, and a natural entertainer,” she says, but it’s missing the end, like she’s holding back her full opinion because of Shea.

“But did you like her?”

“No,” Sasha laughingly admits. “I liked the whiny one way better,” she giggles, doing her best to mimic the high pitched, toddler-esque noises that often came out of Farrah’s mouth. Shea laughs with her failed attempts, and harder at her successes. Sasha gets eerily good at impersonating the tiny blonde.

“You,” Shea pauses to catch her breath, “You shady bitch, stop it or I’m gonna drop my ice-cream.” She’s not lying- said frozen yogurt had nearly fallen with Shea’s laughter shaken body multiple times. Being here with Sasha, giggling over the dumbest shit imaginable, felt right. She almost misses the hours passing.

The conversation takes them through the streets, stopping to step into an antique store here and there, but never finding something worth buying.

They never quite stop laughing.

Sasha and Shea start walking to the bar just before sunset, comfortable silence overcoming them as night took hold of the city. They no longer have to say anything to prove they were capable of talking to each other in the first place- they could if they wanted to, but for now they were both content with just walking next to each other.

They break apart at the entrance, Sasha joining her friends in the crowd, Shea disappearing behind the scenes to organize everyone. Sasha keeps the midday sunshine in her smile all the way to the table Pepper saved for herself, Aja, and Sasha.

Sasha settles next to her friend, ignoring the raised eyebrow presented to her in favor of stealing a sip Pep’s drink. She scrunches her nose at the unexpectedly boozy cocktail. “Peppermint it’s literally 6:00. This is a midnight drink,” Sasha says disparagingly.

“I am getting tired of you judging my life choices, Sasha,” Peppermint snatches the drink back, since it clearly won’t be appreciated by her friend. “You forget, I knew you in college.”

“Oh god, I wasn’t that bad,” Sasha smiles, thinking back on her and Pep’s first years of friendship. Okay, she wasn’t very good, either, if she’s honest, but she was hardly alone. Getting your Masters is hard, especially when your parents are such hyper-intellectual academics; the pressure was a lot. Young Sasha deserved to have a little fun.

“You kept up bitch, you kept up,”

“Shh, they’re getting started. You can remind me of all the mistakes I’ve made later,” Sasha casually leans against Peppermint as Shea opens the show. Shea magically located a pair of heels backstage, somehow. Sasha’s becoming more and more convinced of her initial Goddess theory.

“How you guys doing tonight?” Shea yells to the crowded room, easily heard over the remaining chatter. Her energy is a lot brighter now than the first show Sasha attended, exuberant instead of smooth and mischievous. She’s riling them up, pushing their energy to its peak, and they’re responding.

Sasha realizes Shea’s finished speaking while Sasha watched the crowd, stepping off the stage for the first performer. This time, Sasha’s eyes don’t follow her- she knows where Shea will be for the next few minutes, the way Shea will interact with the people backstage- she’s no less enraptured by Shea, but there’s already a comfortability there. She can enjoy the actual show, for once.

Her reaction to Shea coming onstage for her own piece doesn’t change, though. Shea still walks like that, like she meant to drive her heel through the wood instead of on top of it, still steals the air from everyone’s lungs when she speaks.

She skips an introduction, again, she usually does for her own pieces. She knows the audience remembers her name.

“Before I found me:

I have words to speak,

but will not.

Tucked into an alcove,

my tongue sewn safely into the lining of my cheek,

I am lost.

Teeth clamped tight around a final shred of dignity,

embalmed,

saved posthumously,

but the rotting has started to leak.

Bodies of text embossed,

growing moss in a grove

covers everything Brown.

Tongue-in-cheek

is not a subtle death,

but it is a silent one.

One nobody likes to confront

because loud women are just so

inconvenient.”

It’s longer than most- sadder. She carried the weight of it in her stomach, as though it will be safe there. Sasha hopes it will be, for Shea’s sake. Uncurling herself from the melancholy of her piece, Shea addresses the audience a final time, introducing the last act. Sasha desperately tries to listen to her, but she keeps getting caught up in her voice while missing her words.

Shea steps off the stage for the second to last time, taking the energy of the past few minutes with her. Sasha can only watch her go hopelessly.

Shea is, undeniably, turning into a problem for her. She’s pretty sure she’s okay with it.

#sasha velour #shea coulee #sashea #fluff #lesbian au #melon #rpdr fanfiction #samson and delilah

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