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autumnleaves1991-blog · 1 year

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"I don't actually believe you." Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Summary: After returning to base in Las Almas, the team gets a surprise when Graves turns out to be the true enemy. During the confusion you get injured and taken with Alejandro. To bad for shadow company you're more than a teammate to Soap and Ghost, and their coming for their girl.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish

Warnings: 18 + for language, canon typical violence, blood, guns, reader goes by the callsign Phoenix, poly.

Cross Posted on AO3

“Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be, gentleman.” You clear your throat, “and lady.”

“My men are in there!” Alejandro holds out his arm, his voice impassioned, “let them go.”

“No can do, amigo,” Graves chuckles, “I like this base. I think I’m gonna keep it. And everyone that comes with it.”

You turn your head, Ghost already has his eyes on you. “So what’s the plan then Graves?” You turn to look at the shadow leader, “you gonna kill us?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “absolutely not. No one has to die tonight.”

“You know what? I don’t actually believe you.” Alejandro takes a step closer getting in the commander's face.

“I’m not leaving without my men.”

“We’ll then,” Graves grabs a hold of Alejandro’s vest, pushing him into the van, shadows holding both his arms as Graves knocks him out with the butt of his gun. “Grab the girl!”

You scream, fighting like hell, Shadows falling down around you before someone grabs your hair and pulls you back a gun under your chin. “Let me go, you piece of shit!”

“Tsk tsk Darlin’. You kiss your momma with that mouth.” Graves grins looking ahead and you see Ghost and Soap staring you down. Their jaws are locked, pissed off beyond belief. “Or just these two boys?” He laughs, “This little girl is the key to keeping you boys compliant. I control her, I control you.”

Ghosts finger tightens on the trigger, Soap going for a knife strapped to his side. “Let. Her. Go,” Ghost growls, his chest heaving, “I won’t fucking tell you twice.”

“Oh so you’re the one she’s been fucking?” Graves tightens his grip and you hate the whimper that slips through your teeth.

Simon raises his gun, blowing the head off of the Shadow beside you. The soldiers lift their guns, all of them focused on Ghost. “Next one goes in you,” he aims at Graves.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he digs the gun harder into your throat. “You shoot me and she dies.”

“I wouldn’t be so worried about her,” you can hear the smirk, “she can take care of herself.”

“Seems I got the upper hand this time,” he gropes your breast, “and what a nice handful it is.”

“Fuck this,” you slam your elbow into his stomach, whirling and dropping as the bullet flys directly over your head. You lift your leg and kick him in the sternum as the bullets fly. You toss your body, rolling down the hill with a pained cry as a rock hits your shoulder, dislocating it.

“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing your gun and shooting blindly back at the Shadows.

“Phoenix!” you hear Johnny shout, and you look around blindly when something hits you hard on the back of the head and the world goes dark.

When you come to, the room is dark but you can see two Shadows in the corner their guns resting lazily against their chest. The floor beneath you is cold and you sit up, biting your lip and muffling the scream when you notice your shoulder. “Fucking asshole didn’t pop my shoulder back,” you mumble, cursing his name.

“Graves,” one of the Shadows mumbles into a radio, “she’s awake.”

“Fucking finally,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “I’ll be right down.”

The door slams open a moment later and you flinch, your vision swimming. “Seems like you haven’t lost your fire, Phoenix,” Graves strolls in like he owns the place, pulling a chair to sit down before you. “I’m glad your awake, had me worried there for a moment.”

You ignore him, focusing on a point on the wall behind him and retreating to the recesses of your mind. This isn’t the first time you’ve been tortured but a first for it being someone you know. “Aww, don’t do that, Sweetheart,” he leans forward putting his hand on your neck and squeezing as he brings you to your knees.

He squeezes tighter and your eyes widen as you struggle to take a breath, digging your nails into his wrist, your right arm hanging loosely at your side. “It’s rude to ignore your hosts.”

He lets go and you fall to your side, coughing and sputtering as the air reinflates your lungs. “I’m surprised,” Graves stands looming over you, “I thought Ghost would be into a little choking.”

Ignoring him you think of Simon and Johnny, and you laugh. It starts off as a giggle, then a chuckle before you’re laughing manically on the ground. Graves doesn’t like that very much, standing quickly and putting his boot on your arm, pressing down. You scream, blood curdling as he presses harder, leaning down to your face, “you think this is funny?” he shouts, “tell me, bitch, what’s so fucking funny?!”

He finally lets up kneeling beside you, his gun in your face, and between the tears streaming down your cheeks you see the two shadows stepping closer. “TELL ME!” he screams, and you start laughing again.

“They’re,” you gasp between each word, “gonna, fucking, kill, you.” The blood stains your teeth when he wacks you across the face with his gun, the metalic tang on your tongue.

“We’ll see about that,” he stands, staring down at you for a minute before, looking over his shoulder, “put her in the holding cell with Alejandro and lock it down.”

“Yes, sir,” the men nod, watching him retreat before they lift you, ignoring the way you cry when your obviously broken shoulder jostles.

They dump you on a stale mattress in the corner of the room, another soldier holding a gun on Alejandro. “What the fuck did you do to her?!” he screams fighting the one holding him back. They slowly retreat out of the room before locking the door to the cell behind them. Alejandro rushes to your side, brushing the hair out of your face, “Jesus.”

“Looks worse than it is,” you whimper, allowing yourself a moment to cry when he tries his best to clean you up.

“Graves really fucked you up,” he mumbles, tearing off his shirt, leaving him in a white t-shirt, “this is going to hurt,” he warns before popping your shoulder back down. A scream tears its way out of your throat, and you clutch at his arm, sobbing. “It’s broken,” he whispers, “but that should take some of the tension off.” He makes a sling out of his shirt, and helps you sit up to rest against the wall.

The room is silent save for your heavy breathing, and the drip of water in the corner. “He-” Alejandro starts, rubbing his hands together, “he didn’t-”

“No,” you cut him off, understanding, “no he didn’t.” You close your eyes, “doesn’t mean he won’t take the chance the longer we’re here. Or maybe he’ll hand me around to the Shadows. I think this has shown us, Graves is the furthest thing from a man of honor.”

“They’ll come for us,” he looks up at the ceiling, “they’ll come for you.” You turn your head and give him a small smile, he turns and returns it. You sit in comfortable silence, your head resting on his shoulder, hating how your body tenses when you hear the slightest noise from outside.

Hours later, the building shakes with a boom, and Alejandro leans over you covering your head as a few small rocks rain down from the ceiling. “The cavalry,” he pulls back smiling down at you, “has arrived.”

“Johnny,” you whisper, closing your eyes, “they’ll alive.” Soldiers shout outside the room, and Alejandro stands, hiding behind the door ready to pounce. You hold your breath, hearing shots down the hall and screams through the thick metal of the door.

Another boom rocks the complex and it makes you smile, “that’s my demolitions expert,” you whisper, “come find me, baby.”

There’s suddenly a scream of terror that is quickly silenced, closer than the others. “Ghost,” you whimper, pushing off the ground with a gasp and taking a shaky step towards the door.

“Stay back, Phoenix,” Alejandro holds out an arm, “we don’t know for sure it’s them.”

But you do, the door bursts off the hinges and Alejandro strikes, Johnny pins him to the wall. “It’s us, Amigo,” he shouts.

“Ghost, Soap, Rudy,” he looks at the three men and smiles, “am I glad to see you!”

“Where is she?!” Ghost pushes his way past them, looking around before his eyes land on you. “Phoenix,” he whispers, taking a step towards you.

You step, your knees collapsing but before your knees hit the ground he’s holding you. You gasp, pain shooting up your arm and he quickly lets go, assessing the damage.

“Lass,” Johnny comes around and leans you against his chest. Ghost pulls off his pack and grabs a syringe from a small bag, “relax,” Johnny presses his lips to your head, "we got you."

"Fucking Graves is a dead man," Ghost growls injecting your arm with the good stuff. Your arm aching but nothing compared to the agony of the last few hours. Ghost leans closer, his eyes rimmed red before he checks you over for any other wounds.

His hands tighten painfully when he sees the fingerprints on your neck, "did Graves do that to you?"

"Yes," you whisper, his finger softly trailing down the purple bruise on your cheek, "and that one too."

"Death is too quick," he mumbles, glancing at Johnny, "fucking bastard is going to suffer."

"Aye, I'm right there with you L.T.," Johnny wraps his arms around your waist, "had us scared to death, love."

"We need to get her out of here, I'll go help Alejandro free the Los Vaqueros, then we get the hell out and kill Graves." Ghost stands walking towards the door but freezing when he hears you.

"Simon," you whimper, reaching an arm out for him, "Johnny, help me up." Johnny helps you to your feet, keeping himself pressed to your back. "I thought you were dead for the last day. I thought Graves was gonna come back and touch me, or give me to his men. I just fucking need you right now."

"I got you, Phoenix," he pushes his body to your front and you're sandwiched between the two men you love most in this world. "We'd have burned this entire fucking world apart to find you, love." He chuckles, "I don't know how well you could hear the explosions from in here, love. But Johnny got a head start."

"I knew you'd come for me." You rise up to kiss him, his left hand quickly lifting up his mask before kissing you with all the passion, worry, and fear since you were taken." Simon turns your head and Johnny is there, waiting for his chance to steal your breath away. Safe for the first time since you were taken.

"I fucking love you, lassy," Johnny kisses your nose. "Let's go home."

"I love you too," you whisper, turning back to Simon, "both of you."

"And I love you," Simon pulls his mask back down, "bloody both of you. Between you getting kidnapped and him blowing everything up it's a wonder I'm not dead yet."

"But you love us anyways," Soap grins, kissing your head and helping you towards the door.

"You're right," Simon nods, aiming his gun, ready to defend, "I bloody fucking do."

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #autumn writes #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #Female Reader #Poly #Our boys go a little feral for their girl #Autumn Writes

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drugs-and-daddyissues · 11 days

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Combining the idea of southern small town Johnny Depp and family friend to lovers..

He takes you in the back of his car, on the side of you road. And he's really rough too (bc you asked him ofc). Okay, all fine and dandy. It's the information you drop afterwards.

You're fixing your messy, smudged make up, rambling about how awful he is, which of course he knows is all in good fun. But then you mention not wanting your parents to know you've been fucked like a damn whore in the back of Johnny's car. Your parents are very devout Christians, they raised you to not have sex before marriage, all that good stuff. They think Johnny's a nice boy, of course (your mom wants you and him to get together), but you two also have an age gap. He's much more mature than you.

"Like hell I'll let them know what we did." He said with a soft chuckle, running his fingers through his hair, "Especially your dad."

"He would grab his shotgun and chase you out of town, love." You quipped, putting concealer on the hickies he'd left on your neck.

"He'd blow my brains out if he knew I had my hands on you for that long, much less on the side of the road." He played along, shifting a bit so he could put his arm over the center console, gently rubbing your back.

"You'd be digging your own grave by letting him find out you took his daughter's virginity in the backseat of your car, on the side of the road." You said, finishing up the retouching of your makeup, casually dropping that information about your virginity.

He goes pale.

"What? You were a virgin?? I took your virginity??? Like that????" He asked, sitting up straighter in the driver's seat. He wouldn't have fucked you like that had he known.. You deserved better than that, than to lose your virginity via rough sex in the backseat. You deserved to be taken properly, on a bed, candles lit..

You just giggled and put your makeup back in your bag. "I knew you wouldn't be rough with me if I told you I was a virgin." You brought up.

"Course I wouldn't have, baby. I mean.. Jesus.. Oh your dad is gonna skin me alive if he finds out, and I'll let him because I did not take care of you like I should've." He said, fumbling over words. He was always a true gentleman, if he would've known it was your first time, he would've made it special.

"John? Shut up. Stop talking." You silenced him with a soft giggle, pressing a finger to his lips.

"You damn minx.." He muttered, before taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

── .✦

I think I found my new favorite Johnny Depp AU

#johnny depp love #johnny depp #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp x reader #johnnydepp #southern family friends to lovers AU

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huntinglove · 2 months

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⭐️, ❤️, and ❓ for whichever insert you feel like talking about for the self-insert game!

Hi hi!! Thank you so much for the ask!!

⭐️: What does your self-insert do when they feel awkward?

Ocean Princess is usually very shameless, but if things get awkward or if she gets embarrassed she'll usually end up involuntarily shepeshifting into something small and meek, like a small puddle of water or a droplet shaped sprite!

Erica is an awkward person in general, so it doesn't take a lot for them to just coil into themselves or hide their face by retreating into their shirt. If all else fails, they'll either apologize for any rude or uncomfortable comments or they'll try to play it off with some self deprecating jokes, which usually cheers the other person up or makes things even more awkward...

Eris simply apologizes quickly and tries her best to change the subject or topic at hand. Meanwhile she's quietly cringing at whichever interaction caused the tense atmosphere, not uttering a word about it unless her conversation partner brings it up first

Erena usually ends up digging her own grave when things get awkward, she'll just keep on rambling until her voice gets so quiet it's not even audible anymore. If she's telling a light hearted lie, her face will heat up so much that it'll fog up her glasses and Muichiro thinks it's absolutely hilarious

❤️: What does your self-insert do when they feel happy?

Ocean Princess goes full on disney princess if she gets really happy about something; breaking into song, being extra cuddly with her animal companions and being extra friendly with her subjects!

If she's just moderately happy she'll usually geek out and gush to whoever she decides to hang out with, usually Simon or a certain fluffy Nightosphere resident hear all about her excitement

Erica will always bombard their beloveds and friends with messages about whatever's got them excited, even if they already know about it, they firmly believe that joy is something to be shared as much as possible!

Music is one of their best ways to express themselves, as well as drawing, so it's not uncommon to find them sketching away while listening to some tunes whenever they're happy and having some time for themselves!

Eris has a more direct approach about sharing her joy with others, she'll take her friends and Pentious on shopping sprees, bake some delicious treats to share with Carmilla and Zestial, as well as help out Charlie with any woes the hotel may be facing.

Sometimes she'll even give her necromanced soldiers some nice makeovers to make them more presentable and approachable as the hotel's butlers!

Erena likes to splurge whenever she's happy. Ubuyashiki pays all the hashira as much money as they'd like, and Erena chose a comfortable but not over the top amount!

Whenever she's happy she'll buy a bunch of gifts for all her fellow hashira, the master and his family, as well as herself, which usually results in Muichiro getting buried in love letters and stuffed animals once he returns to their estate

❓: What’s a random fact about your self-insert that you want to share?

Ocean Princess was raised by her butler: mister Abyss! He's a very cultured and strict gentleman that's lowered her levels of havoc and mischievousness severely, within the time he's spent caring for her.

Ocean Princess trusts him wholeheartedly and always relies on him for any and all advice she may need, be it about relationships, how to run the kingdom or just about mental health, she loves him like a father!

Erica is genderfluid but is too afraid to medically and socially transition, so they usually only tell their romantic partners about their identity.

Whenever their partners call them by different pronouns and gendered pet names they get very happy and teary eyed!

Eris' true demon form is a large bat with flaming wings, it's fur is a deep shade of purple and it's wings are a bright shade of green, giving the illusion that it's flesh and eyes are set ablaze.

She usually relies on this form when combat gets out of hand, mostly to scare off enemies or to hypnotize them into submission

Erena is nearsighted and can't see much without her glasses, however, Gyomei has specifically tailored a training routine for her to be able to fight without relying on her sight, in case her glasses break or get taken by an ill intended demon laying low blows

#✯ lovely asks #❥ the ice king's princess #❥ strawberry flavored kisses #❥ inseparable souls #❥ forget me not

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aghostiewitdahoodie · 8 months

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⟣ Synopsis: Anxious about your lover’s whereabouts, you send his brother to return him home safe and sound.

⟣ Pairing: Cowboy! Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader x Outlaw! John “Soap” MacTavish

⟣ Warnings: None

⟣ This is my work, my writing. Do not steal or repost elsewhere.

The sun resurfaced from the horizon, its warmth engulfing the bustling town and the unforgiving barren land. For you, it is a new beginning just as each day is; “A bundle of buoyant you are.”, a wise man once said.

Attaching the lace to your frock, going through every opening before twirling it to a flawless ribbon, you could not help but think of your lover, John. It has been days since you last saw him.

A handful he is- stubborn and clever, nonetheless you love that man to death. So there you are on your feet, your reflection long forgotten, as worrisome drowns your pretty mind. You are well aware he can handle himself and the dangers of the long road ahead, you just happen to be a lady deep in love.

So the wind blew through west, the bells are ringing, the folks are running and your working hour is about to go by. “How many more days, Johnny?” You wondered before leaving for your duties.

The rays climbed the windowsills and upon your winsome orbs, you sheltered them with the palm of your hand, earning a wave from a stranger. “Mornin’, Darling.” A straw hanging from his mouth and a hat situated on his lap. His chin is clear of hair, though a scar is hollowed near his bottom lip.

Landing your feet on the boutique, you take notice of the bouquet placed on your bench. It is a reoccurring gesture and you grew quite used to it. Yet you feel a gnawing guilt every time you are given flowers, aware that your lover is not responsible. Johnny has knowledge of your preferences and he is away, whoever is trying to pursue you is a mystery to be solved. Despite being kind and respectful, you do not tolerate the shunning of your relationship so to the bin the posy goes.

“Does not know when to stop, does he?” Your superior questioned, interest apparent in her tone. A cup of tea accompanied the tailor, a dose she must have to function well. Wanting to put the matter behind, you only glance at her. “Mornin’ to you too, Laswell.”

Being the favourite seamstress is an advantage you have, acquiring commissions left and right, leaving no time for a thought to creep into your mind. This is what you needed lately; a distraction from Johnny. That man is digging his own grave and you could not wait to cover him with dirt-

The arms of yours flopped, ceasing your sewing as you could not believe you cannot have a day without thinking of that smug gentleman. You miss him greatly, it is true however you worry greatly, he could be in danger.

Your sweet, sweet Johnny.

What will you do without him?

Losing your sanity and unable to stitch without twitching, you decided to visit the opposite of sunshine and rainbows.

His snub of a brother.

A sight for sore eyes you are, a head-turner wherever you go. Any hue is beautiful with you, no matter the length or kind, so you are no stranger to orbs glancing at you every now and then, apart from the murmurs. Still, you continued your amble and paid the folks no mind.

“Day drinking is his pleasure; to waste his life away one glass at a time.” Johnny informed, his expression blank and sincere. Not thrilled to visit him, halfway through your journey, hesitation made your feet heavy. “Do it for him.” You scolded yourself over and over until the saloon is visible from afar.

Horses awaited out in the front, saddles lay rest on their backs and their riders please themselves with a pint. A gentleman is obstructing the entrance, his buffed arms crossed on his chest. Blue like the sky his irises are, you attempted to avoid their gaze. “Now why does a fine lady want to enter the bar? You do not seem the kind to drink, am I correct?”Wondering whether to tell the truth or to make up a fabrication, you cease in front of him, his towering height intimidating you in the process. There is no reason to lie after all, you are here for one thing and soon will head out. “I am here to see Simon.”

A chuckle departed from the man’s lips before motioning for you to enter. “Be my guest.” Strangely, you obliged without a second thought. “He is just polite.” Right? There is no reason to be so tensed.

Liquor, cigars and sweat danced and dominated the saloon. The setting is dimmed, the tables are sticky and the chairs are about five sits away from breaking. Taking your time to form an opinion about the place, you took notice of a stranger by the bar. It took a while, nonetheless you recalled where and when you laid your orbs at him before; when the sun arose to call you to your affairs.

His skin made love with the rays above, the hat once situated on his lap now lay rest on his head. How attractive, you must admit… Still your aching heart belongs to your lover, Johnny- still his whereabouts unknown. The man is dressed in a muddy overcoat that had been through the hostility of the barren land, though it suits him well. The fists of his are placed on the bar, his knuckles becoming white from the pressure and pain.

The attention of yours shifted when a glass is placed by the man’s hand with a thud. Castles in the air you built, how silly of you. A column of empty glasses is displayed on the counter, perhaps a challenge is occurring between him and-

“Simon?” Solace departed from your lips as you recognised him, a glass imprisoned in his hand. Johnny’s brother is exactly as you envisioned him; a drunken fool. “Fuckin’ hell.” Simon mumbled the moment he spotted you, his orbs lingering longer than the usual folk.

The stranger gave you a glance before placing a hand on the tippler’s shoulder. “You had plenty already, mate.” He informed Simon, concern and impatience written all over him, only to receive a scoff and an excuse, “I will speak when I finish.”

Simon motioned for another drink, his grip tightening by every second’s passing. Tolerating the tension between the two you could not do any longer, drowning because of the distressing silence and the troubled mind of yours. “I was wondering if you are aware of Johnny’s whereabouts?”

That is all it took for Simon to hiss in anger. “You might as well give them the name of my horse, sweetheart.” Settling yet another empty glass of his on the bar, he let out a deep chuckle. “We are going to be here for a long time.”

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golden-wingseos · 4 years

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“uh oh.”

when they accidentally embarrass themselves in front of their crush... [y/n].

featuring —

✧ bennett, chongyun, diluc, zhongli (separate) x gn!reader

warnings ―

✧ not proofread, blood (not graphic, but mentions), mentions of death

notes ―

✧ woke up at 5am, had this idea, wrote it all at 5am... went back to sleep 😻

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓 -: ✧ :-゜・．

he was living life, actually talking to you until...

until he accidentally. slipped. and fell flat on his face. and what makes it even worse? the moment he got up, he slipped again. right on his bottom

to anybody else—maybe that wasn’t too bad! yeah! it’s okay, chin up king!

no. absolutely not. because he was about to confess to you. he had the flowers (a single windwheel aster) ready!

“ah, bennett, are you okay?” you smiled, holding your hand out to him as he short-circuited, his life replaying through his very eyes as he prepared to dig his grave and hop right in

“your nose is a little red, here,” pulling out a handkerchief, you let bennett wipe his slightly bloody nose as you handed him a cute band-aid for future needs

“a-ah, thank you! [y/n]!” bennett cradled the band-aid you gave him, his heart still pounding in his chest—but now, it was at least two times faster

hmm, even if he did brutally embarrass himself in front of you and messed up his confession... at least you gave him a band-aid!

don’t be surprised when he goes home to tell his expecting-dads...

“hey bennett, did you do it? did ya confess?”

“no! but i got a band-aid!”

“. . . oh you bet they like you, benny!” one of his dads laughed, slapping bennett’s back as the adolescent boy lurched forward upon impact

feeling his now dry nose, bennett’s mouth hung agape at the thought

you liking him? wow... did anybody want to like him?

well, he could only hope!

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐍 -: ✧ :-゜・．

you bet it—he accidentally (was fed) jueyun chilis!

xingqiu was having the time of his life. but chongyun? king was partying on top of tables, announcing his profound love for you, sobbing because he thought you didn’t like him... you name it

glaring at xingqiu, you mouthed ‘i’ll kill you’ while chongyun was joining xinyan’s performance as the orange-eyed fellow winced under your stare, whistling innocently while you chased to catch up to chongyun

“oi! chongyun! you can’t interrupt xinyan’s—“

“[y/nnn]! i missed you!” the boy immediately turned around, rushing towards you with his hands outstretched for a hug

“you just saw me like five minutes ago...”

“i love you, hehe.”

was he even listening? your eyes widened at the use of the ‘l’ word. seriously? how could he throw it around so easily? even when you two weren’t even dating!

“i... um... yes,” you nodded, patting his back stiffly as he hugged you. you had never been this close to chongyun before, for he often held everyone at arm’s length to not trigger his condition

and yet, as he embraced you. you noticed the sky blue light of his hair, the scent of mint and the many popsicles he ate fanning off of the white garments of his clothing

xingqiu—who watched from afar—merely smirked, patting himself on the back as he opened up a book as to not look obvious with his staring

“another one for the great xingqiu!” he quietly snickered.

and once he cooled down, chongyun’s HORROR when he heard the rumors from walking down liyue’s streets. older women giggling at him for how cute he was while he slowly went insane

what did they mean he hugged you? and confessed his love? what!? you didn’t mention any of those things! neither did the usually-teasing xingqiu

and oh boy... the pure embarrassment he feels when the mr. zhongli confirms those rumors... he has to go scarf down four popsicles or else he’d trigger his condition again

“i’m so sorry [y/n] i’m so sorry [y/n] i’m so sorry [y/n]—“

ah. you hummed, nodding at his apologies as you made an observation

he was cute with his condition triggered and without

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 -: ✧ :-゜・．

how did the diluc of mondstadt get embarrassed? well, you see, it was kaeya! why of course it was kaeya... kaeya was the source of all of diluc’s problems /hj

he was just bartending for angel’s share, you know, the usual. and then, you came in!

you bet his crimson eyes did a double-take. you drink?! even he didn’t know that

and once he saw the oh-so-familiar irritable blue hair of his (regrettably) brother, his eyes narrowed at the sight. was this a date?

his suspicions were confirmed to be true by kaeya, who simply grinned as you were oblivious to the silent fight the brothers were having, their eyes darting around as to symbolize the words they could not share with your presence here

“ah, [y/n]. what can i get you?”

“uh, apple cider is fine,” you smiled, sending the red-head’s heart racing at least at 200000 beats per minute

“hm, quite good taste, dear!” kaeya smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as diluc deadpanned, his irritation growing as he clutched his hands a bit too tight around the glass cup, shattering it with the mere squeeze of his fingers

oh crap. diluc thought.

oh crap. kaeya thought.

the WAY diluc wanted to bash his skull in. he would’ve handed kaeya his claymore, his eyes devoid of any emotion as all he could muster out was “do it, kaeya. kill me.”

kaeya’s widened eyes quickly turned crinkle as he laughed, getting kicked out of the tavern as you watched the entire exchange silently, your face contorting into confusion, then worry, then back to confusion

“i—uh, sorry, i’ll remake your drink...” diluc cleared his throat, a light blush dusting his face as he ignored the shattered shards on the floor, fixing you up another apple cider as he practically heard kaeya’s taunting voice in his ears

“yEaH. i’Ll rEmAkE yOuR dRiNk.”

now diluc really wants to bash his skull in.

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 -: ✧ :-゜・．

he didn’t get embarrassed during the time. only until he went home, replayed it in his mind, screamed into a pillow, and prepared to go into a solitary hideout did he realize how much he messed up

it was just a normal day for the ex-archon—walking through liyue with you by his side as he utilized his knowledge in informing you about the ways of the harbor, and ultimately, life!

and while you walked towards a restaurant, zhongli being the gentleman he is, held the door for you

of course, if it weren’t for trying to push on a pull-door.

he made it blatantly obvious too, trying his best to push through the laws of engineering as you stared, a small smile dusting your face like the golden light that’d shine through liyue harbor

he merely said ‘oh’ once he pulled it, opening it for you without a care in the world as his gentlemanly duties were always first

but oh boy did his amber eyes morph in embarrassment while he sat alone in his home, his face buried into his pillow as he could not bear this—this travesty of his past self

did you notice? probably. is that why you smiled at him? oh crap! he’s such a fool, a big fool. stop. get rid of it. get rid of the memories

at least the others (bennett, chongyun, diluc) can forget about it once they die. but oh boy—zhongli? he’s gonna remember that for another century

but hey... at least he was considerate? ah hah?

“no,” his voice was muffled against the fluffy texture of his pillows, his eyes scrunched in embarrassment as he forced himself to fall asleep

ah... how you had him in such a trance you could bring even him to embarrassment

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳��𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you."

'I can't believe I'm at Will's funeral.'

"Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." The pastor continued.

I spared a glance at the people around me.

I looked to Jonathan, his head bowed, and poor Joyce who was sitting nearby.

I can't imagine what they must be going through.

Joyce was like a second mother to me, and she has always treated as if I was one of her own. I'll always be grateful for that. I lay a hand on her shoulder.

She looks up to me confused like I had pulled her deep out of her thought, upon seeing it was me she smiles thankfully. She put her hand over mine and gave it a few gentle pats and then a small stroke with her thumb to say thank you.

I smiled solemnly at her and let go, listening to the rest of the service.

"It's times like these that our faith is challenged. How, if he is truly benevolent... could God take us from someone so young, so innocent?"

I looked down at my feet.

"It would be easy to turn away from God... but we must remember that nothing, not even tragedy, can separate us from His love."

I felt a nudge on my shoulder and turned to look at Dustin. He wore a sly smirk as he looked to his right, past me and Mike.

Frowning in confusion, I turned my head to see what he was smirking about.

"Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral." Dustin said cheekily.

I scoffed under my breath, rolling my eyes.

"Since when has she cared about Will? She couldn't even get his name right, remember that week she called him Bill?" I huffed, crossing my arms in distaste.

The boys smirked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Somebody jealous?" Lucas smirked.

"No-! Not ev- Shut up!" I scowl.

The boys giggle earning more than a few concerned and offended glances making me smile to myself. Mrs. Wheeler leaned down and shushed the boys making me smirk more.

'Serves them right.'

Soon enough, the casket had been lowered into the growd and roses had been thrown on top. I made my way to the very side of the grave, looking down.

"I know you're not dead. But I swear to God, if you don't come back I'm gonna kill you." I muttered to the casket in the ground.

As people began to filter out, we watched as Mike's mom said her condolences to Will's parents.

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Oh, thank you so much for coming." Will's dad said.

I never liked him.

Joyce was just standing by herself quietly, her arms crossed looking down at the grave.

"Yeah, if there's anything we can do..." Mr. Wheeler offered, shaking the man's hand.

"I appreciate it. Thank you so much."

I said goodbye to Lucas who had to follow his parents out, even though we would be seeing him later at the wake. I did the same with Mike, and soon enough Mom was waiting for us so we could get to the car.

"Mom, will you give me a minute?"

"Of course, Pumpkin," She smiled at me with sympathy.

I turned around wove through the crowd that had separated me from Joyce. I tapped her on the shoulder, seeming to jostle her from her thoughts a second time.

Upon seeing it was me, she smiled.

"Hi, Ms. Byers."

"Oh, hi Y/n. Thank you, for coming, sweetheart," She smiled.

I captured her in a bear hug and she gladly reciprocated, giving my several comforting strokes.

"Of course. I'm so, so sorry for your loss." I said, letting her go.

"Oh, thank you, honey. T-Tell me, how have you been holding up?" She asked gently.

My eyes welled up.

"I'm not gonna lie, it's- it's been really hard. I just, I just miss him so much. Your son was such a good person. Always a gentleman." I knew what I was saying.

Even if he is alive for sure, everything I said was true. He always has been nothing but kind to me.

Not to mention, I owe him for so much.

She seemed extremely thankful for hearing that and I was glad I could make her genuinely smile on this sad day.

"Really? Oh sweetie, thank you. That means, just so much to me."

I look back to my mom and brother waiting for me by the car, and I return my gaze back to Ms. Byers.

"Um, I better go. My mom is waiting for me. I guess I'll be seeing you at the wake. Goodbye, Ms. Byers."

"Thank you again, Y/n. I'll see you later, okay?" Her face slightly fell and she smiled at me.

I nod and begin walking backward sending a small wave her way before turning around a breaking out into a small jog to catch up to my mom.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Being at the funeral of your best friend is daunting and quite surreal.

Being at the funeral of your best friend who is quite possibly alive in another dimension and you and only four other people know this is a completely different ballpark.

We had all met up at the wake and regrouped.

The plan was to ask Mr. Clarke if there was anything he could tell us about the theories regarding alternate dimensions. I'm just praying that we don't arouse suspicion given the setting.

"Mr. Clarke?" The tall man turned his attention away from the buffet to look at us.

Mr. Clarke smiled sympathetically. "Oh, hey, there."

The somber look came easily to my face as I looked to Mr. Clarke, Mike, and Lucas on either side of me while Dustin was digging into the buffet.

"How are you kids holding up?"

Lucas speaks up for us, slightly distracted by Dustin's blatant chewing. "We're... in... mourning."

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers," Dustin sighed, shaking his head.

My eyes widen softly, and I look to Mr. Clarke trying to cover for him.

"You'll have to excuse my brother, Mr. Clarke, he's-" I stop midsentence to see him happily munching on more snacks, and look back to Mr. Clarke. "well, he mourns in his own... special way."

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" Mike asked, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible.

"We have some questions," Lucas added.

I shook my head in agreement. "A lot of questions, actually,"

Mr. Clarke complied and the four of us found ourselves at the nearest table, asking our teacher about other dimensions at our "dead" friends' wake. Not something I ever could have imagined doing.

"So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Segan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?"

"Yeah, sure. Theoretically." Mr. Clarke replies, noticeably confused at the subject of our questions.

"Right, theoretically,"

"So, theoretically, how do we travel there?" Lucas asked.

"You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett's Many-World's Interpretation, haven't you?" A ghost of a smile on our teacher's face.

"Yeah," I chuckled, nodding my head in response.

The boys looked at me, wondering why I had said that.

I gave them a look that said, 'I don't know, just go with it.'

"Well, basically, there are parallel universes. Just like our world, but just infinite variations of it. Which means there's a world out there where none of this tragic stuff ever happened," I found myself nodding along, not for the sake of being believable, but actually lost in the idea.

"Yeah, that's not what we're talking about," Lucas sighed, leaning back.

"Oh."

"We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows. You know the Vale of Shadows?" Dustin asked, taking another loud bite of his off brand Nilla Wafers.

Not thinking that our science teacher would know anything about Dungeons and Dragons, I was completely taken aback by his next words.

"An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic–"

"Yeah, exactly." Mike said cutting him off.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"If that did exist - a place like the Vale of Shadows - how would we travel there?"

"Theoretically, of course." I add.

"Well..."

Mr. Clarke grabbed an empty paper plate and pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket. He then drew a straight line across the paper plate as he spoke, creating a visual for us.

"Picture... an acrobat..." He drew a small stick figure on top of the lines. "standing on a tightrope. Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules."

He began drawing arrows on either side of the acrobat.

"You can move forwards, or backwards. But, what if..." He drew a very small creature under one of the arrows. "right next to our acrobat, there is a flea? Now, the flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. Right?"

"Right." We all agreed.

"Here's where things get really interesting. The flea can also travel this way... along the side of the rope." He drew arrows indicating the flea's direction around and under the rope, causing me to furrow my brows. "He can even go underneath the rope."

The boys and I all shared the same look before returning our gaze to Mr. Clarke. "Upside Down."

"Exactly."

Mike spoke up. "But we're not the flea, we're the acrobat."

"In this metaphor, yes, we're the acrobat."

"So we can't go upside down?" Lucas asked warily.

"No."

"Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?"

"Well," Our teacher furrowed his brows, a thoughtful look coming upon his face. "you'd have to create a massive amount of energy. More than humans are currently capable of creating, mind you, to open up some kind of tear in time and space, and then..."

He folded the paper plate in half, creasing it shut before shoving his pen directly through both sides of the paper plate. "you create a doorway."

"Like a gate?" My brother asked eagerly.

"Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–"

"Theoretical." I smile, nodding my head.

"But... but what if this gate already existed?" Mike asked, timidly.

"Well, if it did, I... I think we'd know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole."

Mike seems to gauge our reactions, and I'm the only one who met his eye with an equally uncertain gaze.

"Science is neat." Mr. Clarke continued. "But I'm afraid it's not very forgiving."

We all lean back, digesting the information.

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peter-pantomime · 2 years

Text

Our Flag Means Death Fic Recs

Ed/Stede

moonbeams in your dark eyes (drifter, shapeshifter part 1)

He hadn’t thought twice when he found the dress on a ship they raided some time ago; folded gently in a ladies trunk, pressed in tissue and dried flowers. Stede took it, and then hid it; held onto it for this very moment.

And Ed is looking at it like he wants to eat it. Like he’s afraid it might eat him. Men born from violence, Stede has noticed, rarely know what to do with their teeth.

shiver the whole night through (drifter, shapeshifter part 2)

Beyond the window, the sunset caps the rolling waves gold. A sticky, hazy light that creeps and clings and smears. In Ed’s hair, at the borders of his body, slipping through his necklaces and his silk and his burning black eyes.

O happy living things

“When I wake,” Stede said, quite conversationally, “from such dreams, I feel like I really am that slug, and that it’s a great injustice I lived to destroy so many beautiful gardens and never even had the decency to feed myself to a hungry bird. And my whole crew knows it, and you as well, and the only reason for anyone to stay aboard is sheer hopelessness, some deep and primordial longing for death. That at least my buffoonery might entertain them while together we dig our own watery grave.”

He sipped his tea, primly. Edward opened his mouth and closed it again, then reached, dizzily, for his own cup.

“But it’s not true,” said Stede.

separating salt from water

"Hey." Ed reaches across because it's the only thing that feels right. He grasps Stede's wrist and smoothes the pad of his thumb across his knuckles. Stede stops fiddling with his ring and looks up at him, wide-eyed. "This isn't Captain shit. This is God shit. Are you God?"

Or: The Revenge has been becalmed for six days. Ed has bigger things to worry about, like sharks and being in love.

Silk Touch

After a pillaging, Stede finds Ed wearing a dress and shows him exactly how much he appreciates the sight.

A Fine Thing

“D’you want to see how you look?” Stede asked tentatively. “If not, I’ll wipe it all off for you. Never happened, hmm?”

“I dunno. Dunno what I want.”

(Liar.)

Late Night Vulgarities

It figured that the moment Stede's libido decided to rear its head, he’d be sharing a room.

When Stede finds himself fantasizing about Ed and desperate for relief, he's pleased to discover that Ed is fast asleep, which means Stede can basically go to town as long as he keeps himself reasonably quiet.

Ed is not fast asleep. Ed is not even a little bit asleep at all. Ed is listening to Stede pant and whisper his name, and he's losing his entire fucking mind about it.

Dance Me to the End of Love

"I should teach you the waltz," Stede says. "After all, if you're going to know the ways of the aristocracy, you should at least have that under your cap."

"The waltz?" Ed says. "Like a…like fucking dancing?"

"Exactly like fucking dancing," Stede says.

spattered colours of ecstatic light

It's Stede's turn to stare incredulously at him. Ed notices, somewhere in the back of his brain, that he refrains from being smug about it. "You mean you don't-"

"Of course not," Ed breaks in, awkward. "It's - immoral."

"You're a pirate," Stede says, pointed.

"Yeah, but that's different," Ed says, surly.

Nicely

“Edward Teach, you will sit nicely and accept pleasure or so help me God I will make you.”

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

“Here we go again,” he heard Lucius scream over Izzy’s furious cursing.

Love Sticks in the Throat

After the disastrous events of the party aboard the French vessel, Ed has a lot of time to brood, and his thoughts turn bleak.

He needs a distraction, and who better to do the distracting than the bright, strange, oddly delectable Stede Bonnet?

Little does Ed know, Stede can give just as good as he gets.

Wish You Knew How Much I Loved Your Legs

Stede mentioned, back when they were going to that French party, that compliments were a good way to court a lady, so Ed hopes they’re a good way to court a gentleman, too. “Know what I like about you?”

“What?” Stede asks, excited. “My quick wit? My can-do attitude?”

“Your legs,” Ed replies, looking down Stede’s pointedly. “They’re great. Really…” Fuck, he’s spent so much time looking at Stede’s legs and thinking about them. Why can’t he describe them? “Really nice. Fantastic. Amazing.”

i see your face across the sea

Ed looks at Stede and through him, straight to that gnarled bit of words he can’t dislodge. No one has ever seen Stede like that. There’s a malice, a wariness, in the downward turn of Ed’s mouth.

“So you’ve got nowhere to go?” Ed crosses his arms, “You want your ship back.”

“I want to be on my ship with…with you.”

Our ship. Co-captains. Friends. More than friends.

Good as Mended

"You can sew?" Stede says.

Ed raises an eyebrow. "Of course I can sew."

i bloom (just for you)

It’s been two months since Stede has returned to the Revenge, and he and Ed have not yet had sex. This is fine. He’d be content just to stay by Ed’s side forever in a perfectly platonic fashion, if that’s what Ed wanted. Ed had made it abundantly clear that he does not desire a platonic relationship, though.

The real issue, Stede thinks, is that whenever it seems like it’s happening, something goes wrong.

one good thing

Everything’s different with Stede. He can see everything, every part of Ed that Ed hasn’t shown anyone before.

Trick

Stede teaches Ed how to play piquet.

holy, holy, holy (heaven and earth are full of your glory)

It is the same, in this afternoon sun. He is gentle, because Stede deserves nothing less, and he is slow, because slow is a new experience for him, and one that feels absolutely divine.

The Sea, She Will Best Us

“Sometimes, the moon looks so pretty on the ocean I cry,” Stede admitted, looking across the room at the silk curtains that put his books to bed each night.

There was a fire crackling low in the mantle, casting strange shadows across the floor and wall. It crackled halfheartedly, trying to sound its best against the crashing, unending beat of the waves against the side of the ship. The wood of the hull creaked and groaned like a great beast made of dry bones stirring into life out of the wet sand. A low fog of smoke settled along each crease of Stede’s quarters, smelling mostly of the thick, sour scent of tobacco with just a hint of the musky clean earth smell of cannabis.

Edward sat still as a rocky cliff face in the chair just in front of the fire, the long stem of his pipe held a smoldering flame of lighthouse spark amongst the fog.

“Fuck, man,” Edward whispered, rolling each vowel quick and stucco with his accent off his tongue. “That’s fucking beautiful, mate. You oughtta write that down.”

it's worth it, it's divine

Ed wears one of Stede's silk robes. Things escalate quickly.

When It's Better

Edward presses another slow kiss to Stede's lips, then another, and another- and then Stede is the one taking “just a quick one", then “one more”, then “Ed, please one more, just one.”

nothing but brief bodies

Ed comes to him with a basket of oranges and his heart in his throat. Stede opens the door bleary-eyed, haloed by the candlelit darkness of his cabin.

Love is messy business, isn’t it?

built for luxury

"Congrats," Ed says, once Stede lowers the mirror. "You've just successfully tied up your first person like a proper pirate. Didn't even take you that long."

"Yes, well," Stede says, blushing a little at the praise and moving to start untying the ropes, "I had an awfully good teacher. Very patient with me."

In which Ed shows Stede the ropes, if you know what I mean.

Come Sail Your Ships Around Me (and Burn Your Bridges Down)

"'You certainly sound like him,' Blackbeard replied thoughtfully, ‘even look quite a bit like him. Although I always figured when I killed him he’d be wearing one of those poncey little outfits he liked so much.’"

Edward hears that Stede is dead and handles it in a normal healthy way just kidding he does a lot of piracy about it, getting grievously injured in the process. Stede races to find him in time.

we came untarnished

Edward finds that clothing can still leave you feeling naked.

gasp brightness

If there’s a truism in his profession, it’s that fear is a better bet than love. A man fears you, you both know where you stand. Love, though, love’s a right fucker. Steals your footing out from under you, leaves you dizzy and useless as a green-arsed cabin boy on his first day at sea. But he doesn’t want to be thinking about this tonight. That’s why he’s drinking.

(Four months later, Ed's on a bender in Nassau when Stede finally tracks him down.)

Reeling from the fall

“Right,” the stranger said quietly, calmly, a friendly lilting cadence to his words. “I think you should tell Doug not to try and be a hero tonight. Tell him that if he likes you with all your fingers attached and if he likes not knowing what those fingers taste like, then he should probably stay where he is while you and I go downstairs to talk. Does that sound like a good idea to you?"

Blackbeard learns about Stede’s death and where he went when he didn’t show up for their escape. He decides to pay Mary a visit.

Starcharts

“Do you think I could help in some way?” he asks.

Ed glances at him. “Like how?”

“I don’t know. You seemed to enjoy our little gag of trading places that one time.” Stede shrugs a shoulder. He’s wearing his pink satin waistcoat and matching breeches, no overcoat—too fucking humid tonight. Ed can see the shape of his arm through the thin linen of his shirt. “What if you pretend you’re the one who isn’t in charge, and I can pretend I’m the one who is. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

Sometimes some co-captains invent soft-domming to cope.

Bit of a Clothes Horse

Stede tossed down the invitation card on the couch. “On the contrary!” He scrambled to his feet “You’re not wearing anything that beastly man owned. You deserve something far better, especially for your first time out. If we’re going to a party, you’re getting all the luxury you deserve.”

What happens in the auxiliary wardrobe, stays in the auxiliary wardrobe

On a calm afternoon aboard the Revenge, Stede indulges Ed's newfound interest in fashion with another trip to the auxiliary wardrobe.

When the locking mechanism for the secret passage is accidentally compromised, the two of them are trapped inside, waiting on Stede's crew to find them. Of course, this could take anywhere from several hours to several days.

Luckily, Stede's brought tapas, and there's plenty of things one can do to while away the time inside a wardrobe.

Sit Down by the Fire

“I want to suck your cock, man! Haven’t you noticed? I’ve been following you around with the moon in my eyes, Stede! I’ve not been subtle!” He gestured to himself, naked but for a pair of leather trousers.

Or: Stede Bonnet had never fallen in love, before. He did hope that could excuse him from failing to recognize any of the signs.

Everything Has Changed

“You kiss like a gentleman, Ed whispers…

“Well then,” Stede says, “I ought to find someone who can teach me how to kiss like a pirate, eh, Captain Blackbeard?”

Point Me

They all gather around to look once it’s done, erupting into cheers and clapping Stede on the back and shoulders. He ducks his head, a bit shy.

“I’d give it a few days, wait until it heals a bit to show him.” Wee John says, sounding oddly choked up. “Make it the perfect moment.”

“Light some candles.” Frenchie suggests.

“Wear a robe and nothing else and tell him to unwrap his gift.” Lucius suggests, cackling at the look on Stede's face.

“I’ll know when the time is right.” Stede decides, tracing a finger over the delicate raised artwork in the mirror and hoping with everything in him that Ed likes it.

Two Graves

Stede had once nurtured fantasies, not then fully understood, of dressing Ed again in his clothes.

Silk

Ed's been bound in ropes before, both as a prisoner and as a lover. He's never liked the roughness of it. But this is different.

Stede is different.

this is not your grave, get out

"So, this… look you're going for," Lucius starts, testing the waters.

Blackbeard stares at him with vacant eyes. Jesus. Lucius is viscerally reminded of the man's dead-eyed look before he pushed him overboard.

"No fever," Blackbeard grunts and draws back. "Good. Didn't want to cut off your fucking hand."

Lucius drawls, "I'm touched."

Or: Lucius survives. For better or for worse.

Cleave the Pin

Cleave the pin (slang, 1595) To bring a man to orgasm.

It’s a sobering thought for someone facing middle age to wrestle with, this notion one might be less than appealing in bed, and while he’d always known he was no Don Juan, Stede thought himself perfectly adequate in the art of making love. But ‘perfectly adequate,’ when facing the prospect of reuniting with the man that may very well be the love of his life, feels (pathetic, mortifying, distressing) like a quandary.

this kind of love has to be a verb

More than anything else, Ed can’t understand why Stede came back.

RPF

the body believes

“Fuck off, shut up. What I mean is—I want it to look right, you know?” He looks at his hands, his feet, then over at Taika where he’s folded up in the chair from Hell like fucking origami. He looks at him, and for a split second Taika can see someone else behind his eyes.

Ah, Taika thinks. Yeah, that does kind of make sense.

#ofmd #our flag means death #myficrecs #blackbonnet

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candieshound · 2 years

Text

I'll tell uncle Rocco to call off the guy with the crowbar.

A present written for @cherryflavoredblood

Can also be read here: <3

Tags: Human Trafficking, Violence, Human Pets, Burning and Reference to Ren (DILF) Hana <33

'You make a grave mistake by borrowing money from a patron at a local 'club'.'

You didn't think it would end this way.

Going to a strip club downtown with a friend only to end up on the owners floor.

The inhuman older man stares down at you. A terrifying and predatory gaze.

"Tell me, Cara Mia.."

He takes a long drag off of his cigar, puffing with near violence.

"What did you think was going to happen to you with such a request here?"

"I-I didn't.. That wasn't what I was trying to do!"

It's true.

You only asked one of the patrons for an extra twenty dollars.

A simple request you didn't think would go wrong.

The patron being one of Gorehounds' regulars. Someone rich, important.

An older fox gentleman that you know by 'Mr. Hana'.

He was overly friendly and basically tipped you more than you asked for. You thanked him without thinking about the consequences.

You've basically sold yourself off to the most powerful man in the country.

Rocco stares down at you with a cigar between his fangs.

"I own you now, Cara Mia."

He stands up, figure tall and imposing. Suit a dark burgundy, a fresh dyed black rose clipped next to a wolf shaped pin on his pocket.

His tail is nearly poofed from anger, ears down, mouth in a snarl.

He walks over to you, kneeling ever so formally.

"And that's why.. you be careful as of who you make acquaintances."

Another puff off his cigar, he blows the smoke in your face, causing you to choke.

It seems to please him.

In fact everything about you in this situation does.

Not only are you covered in blood, a scent that makes his hormones run wild, but you're chained down to a hook on the floor.

With a heavy metal collar that rests uncomfortably against your bruised and clawed collarbone and neck.

You don't dare speak again with him in your face like this.

His mouth is a maw ready to snap at any moment.

He twists his cigar in between his fingers as his other hand grips your arm roughly.

A whimper leaves your mouth, sharpened claws digging into the gentle flesh.

"Property. One I can use as I wish, and do as I will."

His hand holding the cigar inches closer to your arm.

He presses it to your skin within an instant, a shrill cry leaving your lips.

Through tearing eyes, you see his pupils dilate, stoic frowning mouth curling into a small smirk.

He grinds the cigar into your skin, watching how your flesh turns an angry red.

Ears twitching from the loud crying and faint sizzling.

Just as fast as it was placed, the cigar is retracted.

Leaving your arm shaking at your side when he drops it.

"Trembling like a cornered bunny.. That's what you look like, Cara Mia."

He stands to tower over you again, eyes scanning your body,

You know how pathetic you look right now.

How weak and vulnerable.

Naked and shaking.

He walks slowly across the room, reaching behind his desk for something.

Your eyes widen when the item he grabs comes into view.

A metal cane, one with a wolf head for a handle.

"N-No!"

You back up, scrambling and shaking your head.

The chain jerks you forward, choking you.

You aren't getting out of here.

Alive.

Or at all.

He makes his way back to you, holding the cane.

"You know what old mobsters used to do, Darling?"

"P-please, d-don't hurt me I'll-"

His eyebrows raise.

"You'll do anything, right?"

You nod quickly, crying softly.

"Y-yes! Yes anything!"

Rocco hums to himself, tapping his foot as his tail swishes.

"I know."

The tone of his voice is dreadful, frightful.

It scares you shitless.

He isn't going to be persuaded.

Ever.

He readies the cane, swinging it down directly on your knee.

"Agh!!"

Old mobster movies with loan sharks had the term 'bust your kneecaps'

They were movies your dad used to watch with you on occasion.

Who knew it'd be an ironic phrase.

His tail is wagging, not swishing. He's extremely excited.

Swinging the cane down again until a audible crunch rings out with your scream.

"Oh, how delightful."

He's praising you. Smiling down with teeth bared, dripping with slobber.

You attempt to move your other leg, but he's quicker.

The cane comes down harder this time, the blow most likely shattering your entire leg.

Luckily the room is soundproof, so only your owner can hear the cries and screams you've let out.

"Stop!"

It's clear as day, you know he heard your plea with the way his ears twitch.

He gives a sympathetic look, reeling his arms back.

"Remember, you said 'anything', Amore Mio."

Another blow across both of your legs and you topple over.

Laying upon the velvet carpet in a pool of your own tears.

Rocco stands there, watching you with a faux pity.

"If you can't even handle this.. How well will you serve me, Cara Mia?"

His foot is placed upon your side, kicking you so you roll over onto your back.

He watches how you tremble, listens to how you cry pathetically below him.

"You'll need training."

Your heart nearly stops at that statement.

"Lots of it."

#love to death

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philosophicalparadox · 3 years

Note

I couldn't choose one ^_^; but for mephirin how about one of these?

3. “Am I dead?”

18. “Would you quit moving around?” “It’s not my fault we’re tied up together!”

57. “Wait a second.. are you jealous?”

86. “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

111. “Is that a challenge?”

151. “Times up!”

191. “Don’t give me that look! You started it!”

204. “It’s midnight, what do you want?”

(I promise I used one of these, it's just at the end!) TW for talk of suicide, death, self harm(minor) and angst (with a little fluff at the end. But first you must suffer the cringe that is Mephisto + feelings)

....................

Rin sat down in front of Mephisto's mansion, letting the weight in his stomach anchor him to the concrete, even though his mind felt a million miles away.

"You do realize it's the middle of the night." A smooth voice chimed behind him. Rin had expected his company - in fact that was the very reason he was there, or so he thought.

Getting no reply to his passive statement, Mephisto came up on his flank, dressed in a dark purple velvet robe that was left largely open at the top, exposing his pale chest to the humid night air, his bare, clawed feet making not a single sound. It wasn't hot, but it wasn't cool either, not that Rin would have noticed anyway.

"I'm surprised you didn't ask why I'm here." Rin said softly after a long, wet pause.

"Did you want me to?" Rin felt his teeth clench. He didnt have the energy to play stupid games. But he also knew Mephisto was right. He really needed to stop expecting human responses from a cosmic demon entity. It wasn't good for his sanity.

"I want you to sit by me." He stated. If Mephisto wanted him to be forthcoming with his desires, so be it. Rin half expected a retort, but couldn't say he was all that disappointed when the older man obliged. He sat at arms length, predictably uncomfortable with intimacy in these situations. And Rin knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he knew why he was here anyhow.

"Nothing can live forever, Rin. I know that better than anyone."

"Except for you, maybe." Rin replied sarcastically. "And only because you choose to live through it all." Rin responded bitterly. His grimace turned to a body-wide tremble. "How? How do you watch people die again and again and just keep doing it?"

"Doing what, precisely?"

"Living."

"Hmm." Mephisto hummed as he thought, bringing a thin, sharp clawed finger to his jawline. "That is actually not a bad question." Rin turned a curious gaze to his elder, surprised how compliant he was being tonight. Usually the man was as rigid as iron and as slippery as smoke whenever it came to feely-stuff like this, not that such a vague statement was out of the ordinary for him.

"And why isn't it a bad question?" Rin parroted his typical sing songy voice at him as a jab, but they both knew there was no heart in it.

"That is a good question." Mephisto smiled leerily at Rin, who was so used to these kinds of interactions by now he was hardly fazed. "And is it one worth answering? Or are you too intimidated by me? By this?" The look that morphed onto Mephisto's face like a sculptor playing with clay was priceless.

"Excuse me?" He said incredulously.

"You're intimidated by touchy feely stuff, though I don't know why. Me being all fucked up and hurt right now creeps you out, I know it does." Mephisto pursed his lips into a hard line, and Rin knew he was spot on. He decided it felt good to torment the man a little and dug in deeper. "So if you're going to sit there and mock me because you're a coward who is allergic to feelings, then you can fuck right off."

"Coward?" Rin felt a tiny ripple of panic tear through his already heightened body, the tone Mephisto used indicating that that might not have been the best word to use. But it was too late to back out now.

"Yes, a coward." Rin swallowed, refusing to be fazed. "And if you want to prove me wrong you'll answer the damn question instead of beating around the bush. But you're too scared of feelings to do that," Rin sighed, suddenly overtaken with a sense of fatigue. "So I don't know why I try. Or what I came here for, anyway. Company? Comfort? Hah. Don't know where I got that idea from."

A long, pregnant pause ensued. Rin glanced up at Mephisto once or twice, expecting a sharp retort, and seen him ruminating on an apt reply. What he said next was not what Rin was expecting though.

"Is that a challenge?"

Rin met cautiously determined eyes and was a bit unsure of what to say. "Only if you plan on taking it, Mr. Tough Guy." Rin tried, and failed, to stop the little smile that graced his lips. "Or do you think you cant be that open with me?" Rin could tell from the apprehension that drifted across Mephisto's glowy irises like a tiny cloud dims the moon that he was right. This man was in the business of trusting no one with his secrets. Not even his best piece. Especially not his best piece.

"I'm not going to think less of you for feeling things. Quite the opposite if anything. Besides..." Rin cringed when the thought of his brother's freshly dug grave. "I could use the distraction from my own thoughts."

"So you've elected to pick through mine. How charming of you." Mephisto pinned his ears with a sarcastic grimace before returning to his thoughts, though his expresion was a touch softer.

"I am not unfamiliar with death, of that you can be sure - and I don't mean the entity either." Mephisto began. "I have died before. But as you know by now, death for demons is not quite the same. Indeed, neither is the death of Nephilim." Rin felt his heart throb achingly in his chest and fought the sudden, unbidden urge to cry. He was the last one left. All he had was Mephisto now.

"And suicide?" Rin asked boldly, unsure of where, even, the question rose from. "Are you familiar with that?"

"Yes, actually, I am. In a way." Mephisto's voice took on a somber tone (for him) and Rin had to resist the urge to ask if he was being serious or not. Mephisto looked to Rin's face and could read everything. "I am not immune to my own mind, unfortunately. Boredom, depression - these things are not beyond me. I have experienced them, in my own way. I admit I have trouble understanding why some humans end their lives, but not all of them."

"So..." Rin's mind was reeling trying to catch up. He wasn't precisely surprised, exactly - Mephisto could be very macabre when the situation allowed, but Rin didn't trust the integrity of his words just yet. "Have you ever tried to kill yourself?"

"Not intentionally, no. By which I mean that I have most certainly damaged myself and my body needlessly, but it was never with the exact intention of dying."

"So you've hurt yourself? On purpose?"

"Yes. Sometimes out of boredom. Sometimes for other reasons." The sudden, though subtle tension in Mephisto's voice told Rin that was as close to disclosing those reasons as he was going to get.

"I can understand that, I guess." Rin thought about it. He'd injured himself on purpose before, although it was out of curiosity more than self loathing. He couldn't say he hadn't considered it before while he felt really low, though.

"What happened to Yukio was not your fault."

The statement came out of left field and hit Rin like a train. He couldn't stop the tears from flowing now. "He did what he felt he had to do." Rin justified weakly. "He was getting old. His body was eating itself. I don't blame him or me for not letting him suffer." Rin's voice cracked. "I just wish I could have been there. Said goodbye. I know it didn't hurt, but..." Rin couldn't keep his composure. "There were better ways to do it. No one would have told him no. No one." Rin garbled through sobs.

"I tried to talk to him about that actually. He didn't want anyone else doing it for him. He wanted to be in control of his life to the very last second."

"I know. I know." Rin heaved a heavy sigh to try and calm down, but everything, every part of him was shaking and he just wanted to run away from the pain. To curl up and die because the last part of his world had gone to a better place and he desperately wanted to follow. He didn't want to be alone. Anything but alone.

A cold, spindly hand on the small of his back shocked him back into reality, and he realised he was clenching his jaw so hard it hurt.

"Don't drift away. It wont take you anywhere you want to go." Mephisto advised wisely. The, Rin wanted to call it sovereign, look in his eyes proved what he knew from experience. Don't drift away. Rin focused his mind on the surprisingly cold hand, not because of it's temperature but because of how lightly it touched him. Gentle might have been a part of gentleman, but he had never really known Samael to be either the former or the latter with any amount of honesty.

Rin got an idea then, and pounced on Mephisto before he was able to object, bowling him over lightly and straddling his chest. Confused and slightly concerned eyes met his own stern and jaded ones. He wasn't going to feel any better by sitting here feeling the hard concrete dig into his ass, that much was true.

"Then help me stay right here." Rin offered, his tail wiggling somewhat enticingly, Mephisto's face lighting up in realization.

"Is that a challenge?"

#ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #mephisto pheles #ask response #this was fun #tw suicide #tw sh

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

Text

The Art of Observation

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.5K (sorry again!) Warning: None Author’s Note: The coffee house scene from book 1, chapter 7 from Ethan’s POV.

Catch up here.

_______ A rational man would keep his distance.

But Ethan discovers, with some dismay, that he is nothing close to a rational man because he finds himself in her presence again. This time in line at his favorite coffee house and at his own invitation.

“What's your poison?” he asks, unsure of what else to say as they wait.

Lilac looks up at him, quirking her lips in thought, the gesture entirely too lovely.

“Surprise me,” she tells him at last, breaking him from his wandering thoughts. “I trust you.”

His chest swells at the words and he clings to them for a second longer. The smiling barista waits patiently and Ethan schools his features with practiced expertise.

“I’ll have the Vienna and she’ll have…” He glances down at her smiling yet intrigued face as he considers what to order for her. In the span of a second, he recalls the cloud of misery swirling over him that morning as he marched towards Naveen’s room, feeling as helpless as ever. Until she found him, kind eyes piercing him completely as she said, “I wanted to ask how you’re doing.”

“...the espresso Romano.”

Lilac’s brows furrow with curiosity but she doesn’t ask. Instead, she hurries to dig her credit card out of her purse. “I’ll pay.”

With a shake of his head, he places a hand over hers, gently pushing it back.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says, shaking his head again when she opens her mouth to argue. The barista smiles fondly at them, her bespectacled eyes falling on their joined hands. Abruptly, Ethan jerks it away, feeling his neck flare with heat.

“I know how much interns get paid,” he adds quickly, inwardly grimacing as soon as the words leave him. His addled, panicked mind blurted them out in a misplaced effort to appear nonchalant. God, why was he such an imbecile around her?

After he pays, he leads her to his usual table by the window. Lilac settles in her seat with an easy comfort that he almost envies.

“Do you come here a lot?” she asks, glancing around appreciatively.

“Fairly often. Sometimes I need a moment where nobody needs anything from me. No one here recognizes me, no one cares who I am.” He vaguely gestures toward the many patrons around them. Many of them rush out in a hurry, caffeinated drink clutched in hand. Others occupy the bar stools or tables, too engrossed in newspapers or screens to pay them any mind. The only eyes on Ethan are a pair of striking green ones, watching him with silent admiration.

He ignores the pleasant swoop of his stomach. “Thirty minutes with a good roast and a new book works wonders. I didn’t bring a book, however, so I suppose you’ll have to entertain me.”

He meets her eyes in the charged silence. Lilac's lips begin to lift in a smile, a sure sign she is accepting the challenge. Just then, however, the friendly barista arrives with their drinks. Lilac observes the curly lemon twist adorning hers with amusement.

“Lemon, huh?”

“Espresso Romano is a double espresso with sugar and Meyer lemon, both squeezed into the brew and rubbed on the rim. It brightens the espresso and cuts the edge off the bitterness.” Once again, his mind travels to the icy dread in his stomach earlier as he walked down the construction zone towards Naveen, almost too afraid to face him. Before he can dwell on it, Lilac's gentle smile captures his attention, as incandescent as the beams of the sun burning through fog. “Try it.”

Keeping true to her declaration of trusting him, she takes a sip. Her eyes light up as the flavor hits her tongue. “Hey, not bad! Certainly an interesting mix of flavors.”

The reaction is entirely too pleasing to Ethan, so much so that he rants, “Just don’t ask for it in Rome. It’s a misnomer, and they won’t know what you’re talking about.” Ethan stops with a private cringe at the senseless rambling. Bravely, he adds, “But I thought you might like it.”

Her eyes light up with interest.

“What made you think that?”

The question is entirely too coquettish to be innocent.

“Simple observation.”

“So what, you’re studying me?”

A swift flush travels from his neck to his ears.

“I study everyone, Rookie. I observe everyone. As should you,” he deflects. “In fact, that’s one of the reasons I most enjoy coming here. The clientele can be… intriguing at times.”

To his surprise, she wrinkles her nose in distaste.

“No way, I like to tune out the whole world,” she explains. “If I have a good book, I’d rather be curled up on the couch with a blanket. I don’t want any distractions at all.”

Ethan smiles at the impassioned declaration, realizing it coincides with everything he has learned about her.

“I suppose that’s fair. I mostly read historical nonfiction in what little spare time I have.” Lilac matches his smile with one of her own, perhaps knowing that much about him, too. “Being out in the world adds to the experience for me. Everything around us is part of the same fabric.”

What was he talking about? Ethan couldn't sound more like an arrogant ass if he tried.

He rushes on, “But the art of observation...it’s critical to our work as diagnosticians. You’ve already begun to understand that.” Ethan glances around the tiny but crowded shop until his eyes fall on a man around his same age. “For example… that man there, the one reading a book. He’s deeply troubled. Something’s gnawing at him.”

Lilac follows his line of sight. “How can you tell?”

“He hasn’t turned a page the entire time we’ve been here.”

Lilac stares at the man a bit longer to verify his claim. When the man continues to glance at the same page, she allows an impressed nod.

Ethan doesn’t have time to feel smug because as her eyes fall back on his, she fixes him with a very sharp and serious expression. Green eyes study him astutely, almost as if they can see right through him and conclude that something is gnawing at him, too. Could she read the anguish at failing his friend, weighing heavy in his chest? The grave set of her mouth as she studies him tells him that she might, despite his masterful efforts at keeping his emotions hidden. The beat of his heart spikes up as he remains motionless, transfixed.

Hastily, he tears his eyes away from hers, making himself busy with drinking from his mug.

“You give it a shot,” he prompts quietly, desperate to change the subject.

Lilac blinks but recovers by straightening in her seat. She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear as glances around. Ethan's eyes linger on the small tress she missed, falling weightlessly against her cheek. He has the wild urge to sweep it away, his calloused fingers lingering against the freckles that taunt him so often.

He is pulled from that silly fantasy by her imperceptible nod towards the entrance. A blonde woman, looking to be a few years younger than Lilac, rushes into the store, hand nervously tugging at her coat. Her hair sticks wildly in all directions, the back of it reassembling a nest of some sort.

“I think she got laid last night,” Lilac says casually.

Ethan's mug freezes halfway to his mouth. He is grateful for that or half of his drink would be sprayed all over the grinning young doctor before him.

“Come again?”

“That’s totally sex hair,” she explains wisely. At his aghast expression, she laughs and adds, “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

Their eyes fall on the woman now waiting for her order by the pick-up counter.

“Besides, that look on her face?” Lilac continues wickedly. “Pure satisfaction.”

Ethan's eyes fly back to hers. “What makes you so sure?”

“I know it well.”

Throat dry, he struggles to keep his thoughts decent with herculean effort. He wavers for a second, wondering briefly what a satisfied Lilac might look like, breathless, cheeks flushed, and looking at him through heavy lids.

Mercifully, Lilac is no mind reader, no matter how well she proves to read him. Her attention is on the woman, now making a beeline towards the exit with her coffee. They catch an undeniable glimpse of a sequined dress under her coat. No doubt worn to a nightclub the night before and worn again this morning in her haste to leave her lover's bed.

“Okay, you win that one.”

She brings her mug to her lips but the victorious smile is still evident in her eyes. The chime of the entrance door bell rings loudly over the acoustic cover of a Michael Jackson song playing through the speakers. Bearclaw Man strolls in and lines up at the counter.

An idea strikes as Ethan suppresses a euphoric grin.

“Try to top this,” he tells her. “Based on how he carries himself, I bet that gentleman is going to order two venti macchiatos, one with almond milk, one coconut. And, hmm…” He feigns deep thought. “Let’s say a bearclaw. To-go.”

As if on cue, Bearclaw recites Ethan's words verbatim to the barista. He couldn't have done it better if Ethan had paid him.

Lilac's mouth falls open comically. “What?! There’s no way you predicted that!” She turns to Ethan, at once sensing his stifled laughter. “That’s total B.S.! You cheated somehow.”

He stops fighting back and allows a deep, genuine bout of laughter, his shoulders feeling lighter somehow. “Indeed. That man comes in with the same order nearly every day I’m here.”

“So you were just trying to impress me.”

Busted.

“Hardly,” he lies shamelessly. “I’m trying to impress upon you the importance of observation and memory. My point stands. Observation is key. The subtle signals, the hidden details...all the secrets in plain view.” His attention is entirely on her, all pretense and humor gone from his face. She is watching him just as attentively. “Everyone throws a curtain over their lives, hopes it will smooth out the edges and hide the flaws...but the truth always shines through.” As he speaks, his words begin to lose steam, an earth shattering realization beginning to stir him as he looks at her. “Always.”

Neither of them breaks eye contact, maintaining the spell—the illusion of being the only two in that shop, mere feet apart.

“You just have to learn to look for the light,” he finishes quietly.

As he watches her, he can see a silent realization dawn on her face. Her eyes widen slightly with a multitude of emotion before she hurriedly casts her eyes away.

“Everyone?” she asks with pause. She seems to be mustering up the courage to meet his eyes again and when she does, she says, “You’re right. I know I always try to seem more together than I feel. If people knew what was going on inside… well, let’s just say it’s good they don’t.”

The finality in her words feels forced to Ethan, as though there is so much more she is not saying.

“Precisely. If you’re self-aware about it, at least that brings you one step closer to some sort of truth.”

It's as if the words are spoken by someone else. They echo in his mind as he finally acknowledges the inexplicable, maddening feeling that constantly pulls him towards her. At long last, he accepts it, recognizing he lost that battle a very long time ago.

Lilac takes another drink of her espresso as patrons mill about them, uncaring that the world had entirely shifted on its axis mere seconds ago.

“Alright,” she says after a moment, plastering a cheerful smile on her face. “Let’s up the ante. What do you see when you observe me?”

Ethan drinks the last dregs of his coffee as he thinks, studying her over the rim of his cup. The first memory that finds him is the night Dolores died and Lilac staying by his side like no one ever had before.

“You’re too selfless,” he says. “You care more about your patients than about yourself. One day, that’s going to get you in trouble.”

A heavy silence ensues in which he swears he can see brief shock cross her face.

“So how’d I do?”

Her answer is in the form of a courageous smile that doesn't entirely reach her eyes. “You’re way off the mark.” The taunt is almost credible but Ethan knows better. “Swing and a miss. Sorry, you’re completely wrong.”

He humors her with a chuckle. Kindly, he says, “I’m not sure I am.”

Very subtly, she straightens in her seat saying nothing.

“Now do me.”

This makes her almost choke on her espresso. After fighting back a small cough, that cheeky smirk makes a reappearance, much to Ethan's utter confusion.

Whatever that was about, Lilac doesn't explain. She instead scrutinizes Ethan thoughtfully, lush bottom lip caught in a bite. He's not certain what will kill him first, the sight of it or the anticipation of her response.

“You’re lonely,” she concludes.

“I am not lonely,” he returns at once. “I’m desperate for any moment to myself.”

“I’m not sure about that,” she deflects, waving a hand. “You could go read in your office on a break. But instead you come here to people-watch.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but the truth of her words catch up to him. Solitude had always been a rare gift for Ethan, particularly when so many people had demands on his time. He had always relished a drink in silence or the comfort of a book. He had never needed or craved companionship until… until the people he loved the most left his life forever— his mother, Dolores, and now Naveen.

Ethan meets her expectant gaze.

“Did you feel this way before Dr. Banerji retired?” she asks kindly.

Stomach clenching tightly at the question, Ethan stares at those knowing green eyes for a long moment.

“Well? Am I right or what?”

“As usual, Rookie, you’re only half-right. And in medicine, that counts for nothing.”

Lilac looks wholly unconvinced. When she opens her mouth, Ethan is certain it is to continue arguing the point. Mercifully, his pager interrupts.

“Come on, then. My pager is buzzing. We should be getting back.”

As they trek through the crowded streets of Boston, Ethan glances down at her, unable to suppress the half smile she inspires. She had definitely been wrong in her assessment of his loneliness because at that moment, as she smiles brightly back at him, he does not feel so lonely anymore.

_______

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! A bit shout out to @thegreentwin, @aestheticartwriting, @apphia12, @chasingrobbie, @vallerwhoas, @mvalentine for the title ideas!

_______

tags:

@dulceghernandez | @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing

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beetles-and-rock · 3 years

Text

Mixology Gone Wrong

An X reader about pre-musical Dewey Finn.

As an aspiring Mixologist, you work in a run down dive bar where local bands come to play their music in attempts to get their names out there. You're pretty used to getting hit on by the many self proclaimed "musicians" that play there. You don't expect any different when Dewey Finn comes to flirt with you, but things start to go very differently indeed.

18+ ONLY, DON'T INTERACT IF YOUNGER

TW: Heavy Intoxication, Blood, Vomit, Attempted Sexual Assault (Not from Dewey though. He too believes consent is sexy), Mild Language, Suggestive Comments

As you can tell this is a very different fic for me. There is a lot of Angst to it.

Mixing drinks was still something you were new too, but you knew enough to work at a local bar. Evening shifts were long, and the music was always blaring super loud. You hadn't been working there long, but was pretty sure you'd gone a bit deaf already. The bands that came to play were mediocre. A lot of them were hopeless dreamers, waiting for their ship to come in. Many of them would drink themselves halfway to liver failure after their set, which made you super busy.

It was pretty sad really, to see so many of the ones who actually had decent voices order so many drinks you knew were going to ruin their vocal chords. Still they didn't care. They performed and now they were going to drink like the apocalypse was coming. As was a typical Friday or Saturday night.

It was also not unusual for the drunks to flirt with you or the other bar tenders, so when the lead guitarist for some local band called "No Vacancy" stepped up to the counter with that look in his eye after their set, his forwardness didn't phase you in the least. He had quite some character, that was for sure. Anyone could easily tell that from the way he performed, energetic, ecstatic, and all around sticking out like a sore thumb among the rest of the band. He was a little on the chubby side, wavy untamable hair ridden with grease. He smelled of sweat and beer, along with Axe body spray which he probably considered to be close enough to a shower, and a hint of BO. He may not have looked like a rockstar, but he certainly smelled like one.

"Hey there." He said with a cocky smirk as he reached the bar. It was and old approach, but at least it wasn't some dumb pickup line. he didn't cock an eyebrow or even try to smolder. Every expression that came upon his face was, in a word, lazy.

"Could I get a beer?" He asked. You held back a sigh knowing once again you weren't going to use the skills you'd learned as a mixologist, but by the looks of this guy you knew there was no way he was going to be able to afford a cocktail. You were pretty sure his band played for free here tonight, so that pretty much confirmed how broke he was. You poured the beer and handed him the mug.

It was both disgusting and impressive watching him guzzle the beer. He simultaneously patted the counter of the bar to the beat of the music as he drank.

"So did ya like the set?" He asked you after a long swig. Oh great, here came the flirting...

"It was. . . pretty interesting. You guys have a good sound." You searched for kind things to say about the performance, but in all honesty it really didn't particularly stick out to you among all the other groups of wannabe rock stars they played in this run down shack of a dive. Well that wasn't entirely true. He certainly stuck out. You did your best not to use the word obnoxious when describing his part of the set.

"Your harmonies were pretty good, and your ad libbing was. . . creative. You've got a lot of energy."

"Yeah!" He replied after taking another long swig. "You gotta have the energy when it comes to rock and roll. I've been trying to tell the other guys that for years now. They just kind of stand there."

"Uh-huh. . ."

"I mean I brought the band together. The least they could do is listen to me."

In that moment, it dawned on you how clueless he was. Anyone else could see that the other band members were not very big fans of his antics onstage. The audible sigh from the lead singer into his microphone was very

clear as the man who now sat in front of you had started jumping around and ad libbing perhaps a little too much. He was now polishing off his mug and set down the money for another one. You poured more beer into the mug, almost feeling sorry for him.

"Been thinking about changing my name. . . I don't know though. It's not really a rock-star name, but the thought of a crowd screaming the name Dewey Finn inspires me. Kinda like an underdog story." He said.

"Dewey Finn?“

"Yep! That's my name, and you'll want to remember it cause one day it'll be famous." He set down the mug pointing to it "More please."

You were unable to hide a slight look of disgust at his rudeness, but poured another glass anyway. Dewey took another long drink and belched.

"Y-yep! someday people are gonna be screaming that name, Dewey -hic- Finn." He held his belly momentarily after the hiccup looking like he may be sick for a minute. Unfortunately, he continued. "You ever thought about being a groupie? Maybe I could make you scream it too."

You raised an eyebrow. It wasn't an old crappy pick up line, but he was still one more stupid sentence from getting slapped. You had to admit you did think this guy was kind of cute, and some parts of him were even adorable, but not so cute or adorable that you wouldn't remind him he was talking to a human being.

You shook your head watching him become more and more drunk, and knew he was likely to keep making conversation. Since it was clear to you he was not going to stop speaking, you decided to change the subject instead of letting him dig his own grave.

"So who was your inspiration?" You asked thinking it would be an appropriate question. Little did you know you'd soon be enjoying yourself talking with him. His eyes lit up and he listed a number of musicians and bands that he had been inspired by. How he'd listened to all eras rock music from a young age, and had gotten his first guitar for his tenth birthday. That sparked his dreams to become a rockstar. He talked about how he would spend every moment of free time learning to play. How he played with a band called Maggot Death in Highschool and has been living with one of the members ever since his father kicked him out.

You found yourself laughing, smiling and even coming close to tears at some points as you watched him do so himself. Perhaps the most surprising thing though was that familiar warm tickle slowly spreading on your cheeks. He was certainly no gentleman, but at this point you knew there was some tenderness underneath all the cockiness. Still even in his near-stupor, you could tell he was definitely still keeping most of his walls up. Not that it was your duty to take them down. It was about that time one of his band members came over, and reminded you that you were just a bartender this wannabe rock star had been talking to for the first time.

"Excuse me, Is this guy bothering you?" The man asked. He was thinner, and had longer, straighter hair than Dewey. He wore a leather jacket that left his torso bare showing off a set of abs that clearly he was proud of.

The man's tone surprised you. He spoke as if Dewey had been trying to fondle you over the counter or had been relentlessly trying to pick you up.

"Uh-um. . ." Was all you could manage. Not only had you snapped out of the happy daze of the conversation, but you realized you hadn't been keeping track of just how much beer you'd been giving him. Now the poor guy was drunk out of his mind, you had no idea how much money he owed the bar, and you were pretty sure this could get you fired. The troubled look on your face must have given the guy the wrong idea, cause he smacked the back of Dewey's head.

"Heeeeeeeeeey!" Dewey uttered as he slowly rubbed the back of his head.

"They're not interested, Dewey. Leave them alone." Said the band member.

"I wassssssn -hic- bothering nobody."

The other man looked at you, and sighed. "How much does he owe?"

You just stared at him a full minute before gathering your thoughts.

"Oh. . . um, I think he drank the equivalent of a pitcher." You knew it was more likely two or more, but you didn't want to cause any more trouble. The man slapped several dollar bills down on the counter, before turning to Dewey.

"You owe me."

"Th-thanks -hic- buddy." Dewey said with a goofy smile.

"Come on. We're over here." The guy said, turning to lead him to the rest of the band. Dewey went to follow him stumbling as he got out of the chair. He fell clumsily to the ground. The band member turned and laughed at him, soon joined by the others as well as many people in the bar. Dewey looked up very dazed, but smiled seeing that everyone else was.

"Whoops!" He giggled.

You might have been the only one not laughing though. You felt sorry for him.

"I've changed my mind Dewey. You better call Ned." His bandmate told him.

"Wait!“ Dewey scrambled on the floor trying to stand or at least sit. It was obvious from the way he teetered on the support of his arms his judgement was way off. He managed to sit on his knees. "Wait! I-I -hic- can't! Patti will lose -hic- lose her crap if shhhheee finds out I. . . ca-called Ned to come -hic- come get me. . .

Another band member cut in.

"It's nothing personal, Dewey. There's just no telling what your fat ass is gonna vomit in his car."

Even though the remark wasn't even all that funny in your opinion, the band members laughed. Dewey laughed too, but it was an uncomfortable laugh. The laugh that comes from the person being joked about trying to seem unoffended. Still watching this all play out, you could tell Dewey was hurt and scared of whoever Patti was. Regardless of your sympathy toward him, you had a job to do.

You continued to pour people's drinks, almost too busy to watch as Dewey's band left him. You didn't see where Dewey himself went until after the evening rush had gone. It was about fifteen minutes to closing. He was sitting in a booth with his head down. There were a few tipsy stragglers at the bar, which was nothing the other bartenders couldn't handle. You decided to go over and check on him. You walked over and sat across from him.

"Hey, you okay?" You asked.

He lifted his head. His eyes were red, and his face puffy and tear streaked. He looked sick and exhausted. He made a sad attempt at a smile.

"Jussss fine." He slurred before another hiccup escaped him. An all too familiar panic flashed through his eyes and he clutched his stomach. He covered his mouth and sat back for a moment until a nasty sounding burp escaped him. He moaned and stared miserably at the wall above your head.

"Are you sure? Do you need a bucket?“

His eyes lowered back down to you. "Jusss go away. . ."

You wanted to do what he asked, but with it being so close to closing, you needed to make sure he had a way to get home.

"H-have you texted your friend to ask for a ride home yet?"

“No. . ."

"Why not?"

"My nightssss -hic- been b-bad enough without my roommate's -hic- girrrlfriend yelling at me. . . and threatening to kick me out."

You couldn't disagree. That would be a worse ending to an already ruined night. Still you had to close up soon. You had to get him out of here, and hopefully home somehow.

"W-What about earlier on stage? You were really good."

He looked up at you, a slight smirk had returned to his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, you looked like you were enjoying yourself up there."

"I alwaaaays enjoy my-myself -hic- onstage. Rock. . . isss what I wass meant fffor. The mussssic sp-speaks to me.

You smiled, seeing that little smirk gave you hope. Clearly he was very passionate about Rock. You decided to try to keep him on the subject.

"When did you first get into rock?" You asked.

"I've pretty much -hic- been Inta rock my whhhhhole life."

"Oh?"

"Y-yeah. I'vvve been singing -hic- since I can. . . m-member. . . It's great for expression. . . a-and sex appeal. . . You think so too, don't you." He was looking you in the eyes now. His expression made your heart skip a beat. You were having second thoughts about this now. Maybe you should have had one of the other bartenders come with you. You nervously backed up in your seat.

"W-what?" You stammered.

"Well yyyyou do keep talking about -hic- the way I looked on stage."

You blushed. It was a big misunderstanding. You just noticed how he stood out from the others.

"O-oh, no I wasn't meaning-"

Dewey chuckled. "Ssssure, you didn't. You even r-risked your job to -hic- over serve me.

You raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"Speaking of -hic- whaddaya say . . . to another r-round?“

Your voice came a little more stern. "No I think you've had enough.'

"Come. . . Come on, baby. Jusss -hic- a few more?"

Baby!? Who the hell did he think he was? “No!“

"Wwwwann me to take my sh-shhhirt off?"

"No thanks!"

“Kiss you?" He grinned.

"Absolutely not!" You stood to get up from the table. He stood too, leaning forward. He absolutely reeked of alcohol. You could tell from the look on his face he wasn't done, but if he wasn't careful he was about to be.

"What if I sign a tit?" It was then that you noticed he was gawking at your breasts. That was it. You reared back your hand and sent it flying into the side of his face. He yelped, sitting back down in the booth. His eyes were wide with shock. He touched the red mark that was now forming on his cheek. His bottom lip quivered. For a moment, you thought he might burst into tears. Unfortunately, what came next was worse.

Once the look came over his face, you knew what was coming, and there was no stopping it this time. Dewey held his gut as vomit poured from his mouth all over the table, and even down your skirt. You were really pissed now.

"GET OUT!" You screamed at him. He sat there wide eyed, embarrassed, scared, and still pretty sickly.

"I-I'm so sorry-"

"OUT!" You pointed to the door.

He scrambled to get up from the booth, and stumbled across the floor. He stopped suddenly leaning over a booth retching again. He wasn't going to make it very far if he left now. You sighed handing him a bucket.

"Just sit down, and text your friend to come get you."

Dewey hugged the bucket and nodded. You watched making sure he texted his friend Ned, while thinking about quitting your job here. It wasn't bad money, but you certainly didn't sign up for babysitting sick, horny, drunks. Dewey retched into the bucket causing you to look away. It was then that you noticed another man walking towards you.

"You okay?" He asked.

You brushed your hair back out of your face looking up at him. You could tell your expression was still harsh, but had no interest in changing it. After all this, you figured you were justified in a little rudeness despite the bar's policy.

"I'm fine.“ You snapped.

The man chuckled and grinned. "Easy sweetheart, I'm just trying to help."

You rolled your eyes.

"Just leave me alone."

The man stepped closer. "That skirt is looking a little messy. Let me help with that."

Your eyes widened, but you didn't have time to react before the man attacked you yanking at your skirt. You screamed. You could barely register the next movements in your shocked state.

A fist flew into the man's face. He staggered backwards letting out a muffled scream from behind hands covering a bleeding nose. Dewey was now standing next to you staring at his blood soaked fist. You wanted to say something like "thank you" or "sorry for screaming at you earlier" but the man who tried to assault you had regained his composure, and grabbed Dewey.

The angry drunk slammed Dewey into the side of the booth, which backfired because instead of a scream of pain, Dewey regurgitated all over his attacker. The disgusted stranger screamed obscenities at him before throwing him to the ground and pinning him there. His messy knuckles slamming into Dewey's head again and again. You screamed for the man to stop it, almost certain from the blood he'd killed Dewey. Your assumption was confirmed false when a fist with a mug in it shot upward and was slammed against the attackers head. The mug shattered and the man fell to the ground unconscious.

"Oh my god!" You knelt next to Dewey, who now had bruises forming on his face and blood dripping from his nose.

"Are you okay?" You asked, looking him over for anything else. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

He just moaned in response, his eyes unfocused.

"Can you sit up? I can help you." With your help he was able to sit up. He leaned back against your arm limp and dazed. A tall thin man in glasses came running into the bar.

"Dewey!? Oh God! What did you do!?" He panicked rushing over to him.

"N-Nehhd. . ." Dewey managed.

"Are you alright?" Ned asked him. He looked at you. "What happened?

"It's a long story." You answered. "But, he helped me." You looked between the two of them. “I'll call an ambulance. He needs to get checked out."

"Wahnna. . . go home." Dewey whined.

"Not yet, Dewey. They're right, we gotta get you checked out first."

You pulled out your phone and dialed nine-one-one, and though Dewey really didn't feel like getting looked over, and was less than cooperative, he ended up being pretty lucky. His back was bruised the worst, and he had a minor concussion, but other than that he was mostly okay. The medic really seemed to prefer he get checked at a hospital, but since Dewey was likely to be less cooperative there he let Ned take home. He was given instruction to stay with Dewey to make sure nothing got worse, and to make sure he stayed in bed if he felt dizzy.

Before taking Dewey home Ned thanked you for taking care of him. You shook your head.

"Taking care of him was an occupational thing. I should be thanking him for taking care of me."

#dewey finn #school of rock broadway #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice

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aestheticseungmean · 4 years

Text

Midnight Academy- Yeosang

You were born with magic, and because of that, you went to Midnight Academy. Yeosang caught your eye the first time you met him.

Magic Au, loosely based off of Harry Potter.

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Life as someone with magical powers can be fun if you knew how to use them. The wrong wrist motion could injure someone and the wrong pronunciation could turn someone into a frog and not a cat. Risks are a casual thing in the world of magic. There are many types of magic that each child will learn in Midnight Academy. It was a simple and quaint little school that was restored regularly. Not a crack lay in the foundation nor a chip of paint peeling from the wall at the start of the year. Throughout the year, typically, newer students blow up potions and cause the loaned rats to explode. Nasty business that is. The poor caretaker has to scrape the bits off the wall before scrubbing it clean.

You could see why he hated new students and trouble makers, they made his job impossible sometimes. If students were bad, their punishments consist of helping Mr.Darty with his job. Mr.Darty was an older elf gentleman with balding grey hair. More often than not, he was cranky as most of the staff were. He was always found accompanied by his favorite Sphynx cat, Chabiel. The two were inseparable as if the cat was his life support. Mr. Darty was not the only teacher who seemed to have an animal attached to them. Although he was by far, the one with the ugliest. Often, you’d see a mixture of miniature dragons, owls, cats, dogs, and even an occasional Harpy Eagle or Peregrine Falcon. They typically roamed the halls to deliver notes and packages to and fro their owners that the mailroom was too lazy to deliver or be bothered.

This year was a special one. It’s your first year at the Midnight Academy. Time to get away from the non-magical creatures. Muggles as they are called. You loathe your brothers whom you live with. Silence is scarce in that household and luckily, you were the only one who had inherited your mom’s recessive trait of witchcraft. She herself had not had any magic rather, she made up for it by being a very successful business tycoon. Often, you helped her manage some of her gaming companies and you tested them too. Hex Gaming Co. was the creator of some of the world’s most famous games such as Utopia, Weapons of Deception, Deception 2, Undying, and more. All of which were some magical role-playing game that was super addicting and had kids playing it everywhere. If you ever told anyone who your mom was then instant fame. Your dad, on the other hand, was not as famous but he was still a famous musician.

Aside from your brothers, the only person to know about your wealth and parents’ true jobs was your best friend, San. He had inherited magic but he’s also part incubus. You met him when he appeared on your block five summers ago. Fourteen was your current age now and you guys practically live with each other and do everything together. When most people hear that San is part incubus, they stay away because they are afraid of having their dreams visited. But what people didn’t stay to find out that San didn’t find the need to go into people’s dreams. Besides, he only found you slightly attractive, everyone else wasn’t even on the radar. Deep down you know that he might be bi but he will not let you have the satisfaction of being right.

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𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲

San and you entered into the school that is more intimidating the closer you get. The seeming mile-high doorway made you feel small enough already. All the new students were being crowded together to get handed their classes and dorms they were going to stay in. Of course, you will miss your brothers but you got San! You’d prefer that any day. “I hope we get the same dorms. I don’t think I’d be able to live without you.” “Me too, San. Me too.” To say that you weren’t scared for your life was an understatement. Anymore worrying and you’d be dead. Finally, your turn came around to get your scroll. The teacher administering them was undeniably short and part goblin. He had a snaggle tooth that stuck out of the bottom of his mouth and long Yoda like ears that stuck out of his head. Little hairs covered the face, they were minuscule but visible.

“Name.” The voice was gravely and harsh but you still gave him your name. “Here you go.” You took the parchment with shaky hands. San waited for you at the door. “I got Sapphire dorm!” As soon as your face fell, so did his. “I got Emerald dorm.” Emerald dorm has the reputation of some really mean and uptight people. They are usually the richest ones. “No escaping from my money now.” You groaned out. San placed a quick kiss to your cheek. “You got this.” He ignored the stares but you didn’t. Blood rushed towards your cheeks. A slender figure appeared in front of you. You recognized it as the teacher most often seen by the headmaster. Her voice was strong and dominant, perfect for teaching. She was aged like the expensive cheese your mom was forced to eat at business meetings. “ATTENTION! You are to go in and find the table corresponding with the dorm name you got. The headmaster will address you soon.” As you walked in, hand in hand with San, you were taken aback by the busy chatter. Almost immediately, you were pulled away from San and torn to the table decorated in different hues of green.

You know nobody so where to sit was nerve-wracking for you. “You can sit by me.” A hand waved in the air and you saw a boy giving you a cute smile. “Me?” He could be talking to anyone so you wanted to make sure. “Yeah! I’m new too.” With nowhere better to sit, you sat down next to the blond boy. “Hi! I’m Wooyoung and I hope we can be friends!” “I’m ________.” You smiled at him. A voice sounded through the room getting everyone’s attention. “Students. Most of you are coming back from a great year last year and I wish you a welcome. For the new students coming here this year, we all give you a warm welcome and wish you well in the following days to come. Make good friends, learn new things, and most importantly, do great things. I hope that I do not need to interfere with any problems as our teachers will deal with it accordingly. Just know, we will be paying attention.” Wooyoung and you shared a nervous look.

“For now, we feast!” Little fairies delivered the food to the table. Immediately, you recognized them as brownies. They are house fairies that live to clean as love dishes of cream. You loved the brownie that resides at your grandparents’ house. His name was Hayelam and he was the nicest creature you had ever met. At night when everyone was supposed to be asleep, you’d sneak out and leave a bowl of warm cream on the counter. It was a ritual and you couldn’t go to sleep without doing it. Maybe you could sneak some for them. Without thinking, you grabbed some cream. “Are you going to make whipped cream for this delicious pecan pie?” Wooyoung asked, causing you to look at him. “Ah no, habit. I’m going to heat it up somehow for the brownies.” “Brownies? Where?” You giggled at Wooyoung looking for actual brownies. “The house-elves silly. They love warm cream.”

Taking out your wand, you attempted to do a simple heat spell but it didn’t work. Neither did the next six tries. “Let me try.” How would he be able to do it? You watched in amazement as the metal bowl in his hands turned a soft red causing the cream to simmer a little. “Woah!” The cream was still hot when he set it down onto the table. “I’m a descendent of a fire fairy.” “I guess you could say that you’re hot.” Normally, San would give you a dirty look for your puns but Wooyoung loved it. Although he was laughing, he was dying inside from embarrassment. “Let’s dig in!” You exclaimed, grabbing a turkey leg and taking a bite. San laughed at you from afar glad that you found someone to talk to. Don’t forget about me. Get out of my head, San. Looking up, you caught him pouting but after you gave him a smile, he cheered up.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“Mr.Song, would you be so kind as to answer this question on the board?” Your red-haired classmate stayed visibly slumped in his seat. He wasn’t the only one confused, you watched as Wooyoung got confused as well. Discreetly, you waved your wand and watched as the answer appeared on your seatmate’s notebook. Thank god that he saw it appear and reworded it. “In a sense, if you added blisterwort instead of chorus eggs then you would essentially get a toxic hair remover. Extremely dangerous if taken in as it acts as a poison as well. The victim would be dead within minutes.” “Very good, Mingi.” The teacher turned and continued on with her endless lecture. “Thank you,” Mingi whispered. “You’re welcome!” Your hushed voices caught the teacher’s attention and she was now standing in front of you. “What are you saying you’re welcome for?” Once again, Mingi froze up, you, on the other hand, were used to this pressure.

Thinking quickly of a lie, you responded calmly. “My seatmate asked me to help him with the things he doesn’t understand.” “Hmmm, all right. No more talking in my class.” The bell rang and the hallway became overfilled. “Wait up!” A hand on your shoulder made you jump. You turned and saw Mingi. He was taller than you thought, around 6’0. “Can you actually tutor me in alchemy?” “Sure. The defense room is empty around six.” He smiled and nodded. A different, smaller hand appeared on your shoulder except for this time, you recognized this hand. “San!” You were quick to hug him tight. “We have the next class together so I wanted to see if you wanted to walk with me and meet my new friend.” Playfully, you pinched him and pouted. “You’ve already replaced me?” “YOU REPLACED ME FIRST,” he whined. Mingi, who was still there, cleared his throat. “Oh yeah, San, this is Mingi, my classmate and friend. Mingi, this is San, my bestest friend in the entire world.

“What about me? I thought I was your bestest friend in the entire world and he was your BFF.” You giggled as you watched Wooyoung walk up still whining and complaining about your rejection. “Woo, of course, I love you. You two are my bestest friends in the whole wide world.” Once you introduced the two, Mingi went on his way while you, San, Wooyoung, and San’s friend whom you later learned was named Seonghwa, walked towards class. You watched as San waved bye to his newfound friend before walking into class with him and Wooyoung. In the middle of class, you watched as a 2nd-year student came in to get the teacher to break up a fight. “MR.OIEK! YEOSANG AND TJUM ARE FIGHTING RIGHT NOW.” “Lead the way, Hongjoong.” The class rushed towards the windows where there was a clear view of the courtyard.

Unfortunately, you got pushed out of the door during the madness and fell right into one of the boys. For a moment, the boys stopped and stared at you which let the teacher neutralize them. “Why are you out here Miss.____?” “I-I got pushed. Sorry, sir.” You hung your head in shame, not wanting to look into his intimidating eyes. Ignoring the pain in your wrist or the odd warm feeling on your lip, you stood up. “Yeosang, I trust that as a 2nd year you can show her to the nurse’s office.” “Yes sir.” When you started to protest, the boy gave you a look, the one your brothers gave you when you should shut up. Sighing, both of you started trekking towards the nurse’s office well aware of the fact that you’ll be missing the next class too. With Yeosang leading the way, you couldn’t help but take in his figure from behind.

“Right in here.” “I’m fine, I really don’t know why you are taking me to the nurse.” The look on Yeosang’s face made you question if you were losing your mind. “You are bleeding from a cut on your face and your wrist is sprained.” If that wasn’t convincing enough, the nurse told you the same thing. There wasn’t much she could do quickly so she gave you a concoction of herbs to help heal you. “Wait here for a few minutes so it can start working.” You nodded and watched as the old woman sauntered away, mahogany robes swishing with each step. As soon as the door shut, you turned to Yeosang who was forced to stay with you. He was entranced by something outside of the window, a bird perhaps. His features were vague but what stood out to you was a birthmark adorning his left eye. Your gaze traveled down his body, crossing over his arms and his black robe with a sapphire blue trim and down further. Underneath the undone robe, you caught sight of the pressed button-up with the top two undone showing the perfect amount of collarbone.

His gaze flickered towards you and you looked at your feet, avoiding the blush of the fact that he caught you when you were checking him out. “I saw that, you just checked me out.” A meek sorry was all that you could manage, your face ten times redder now that he called you out. Luck was on your side, the nurse returned and assessed the healing. She warned you not to strain your wrist too much until tomorrow. You agreed and followed Yeosang back to where lunch was being held. All through lunch, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the older boy and you completely ignored what Wooyoung was saying. It wasn’t until Yeosang caught your eye that you looked away, nodding to whatever Wooyoung was saying. You still threw him glances and at one point, you swore you saw him smile. Or smirk. Either way, you finally focused on Wooyoung and whatever he was saying.

Lunch ended and it was time for the next lesson. Fighting. For some reason, the school decided to do second years and first years together, something about the experience. The teacher, short and balding, partnering you up with a short boy, definitely a second year, about two inches taller. His casual laid back posture made him look superior despite the fact that you won every sparing round. “Petrificus Totalus!” You flicked your wand before he could blink and once again, he found himself bound, unable to move. “Very good work, Miss._____!” The boy, whom you later learned was named Hongjoong, congratulated you on doing well while pouting. You thought it was absolutely cute. The bell rang and you stayed behind. There was still a few hours before dinner and Mingi was supposed to meet you. A tall figure emerged behind you and then another.

“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend.” “Do they need tutoring too?” Mingi shook his head. “Great work at fighting today, Hongjoong couldn’t even raise his wand.” Mingi’s friend, who was as tall as him if not taller, sported black robes with an emerald green trim. Same as yours and you can’t fathom how you missed someone as tall as him roaming around the dorm. “I’m Yunho by the way.” His cute smile gave you puppy vibes and you forced the instinct to cuddle him away. Mingi introduced you quickly to move on through to alchemy. You couldn’t help but giggle when his potion failed and he screamed at it. “I DID YOU RIGHT! YOU JUST DON'T LIKE ME, DO YOU?” Eventually, you found yourself rolling on the floor laughing when Yunho had put a silencing hex on Mingi. Mingi continued to scream but nothing came out. “You only get your voice returned when you get a kiss on the cheek.” Mingi sheepishly looked at you and leaned closer. “Yunho…” He laughed and ended the hex. Mingi was taken aback at first but ultimately ended up laughing along. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

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Year two

Grey clouds rolled overhead signaling the start of another gloomy season. You, San, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Mingi, Yunho, and Hongjoong trudged towards the train car that was to take you back to the academy. Surprisingly enough, you realized that the boys didn’t live that far from you. As summer rolled along, you and the six boys grew closer and of course, your brothers liked them too. Yeosang, you found, should’ve been in the emerald dorm but something got screwed up in the housing situation. The rumor got around that he was being switched back to the correct dorm though only time will tell. Although, it would be quite awkward. The seven of you were confused to find someone in your car already. A boy of a stronger build and brown hair sat by the window staring out of it. “Hello?” His head snapped towards you. “I’m sorry, am I in your area?” He was new, you could feel it, the newbie energy radiating off of him. You knew the others could too. “It’s okay! You can sit with us. I mean you’re new aren’t you?” Gosh, you love how kind Wooyoung is. He’s so sweet, you are surprised you don’t have a cavity. “Y-Yeah.” As you all settled in, the boy introduced himself as Jongho.

We introduced ourselves and soon got lost in laughter and conversation. “Did you see the new Deception: End Of Time game is coming out tomorrow?” Wooyoung asked. An abundance of yeahs and can’t waits filled the car in agreement. “You’ll love it. I did.” The boys looked at you in confusion. San laughed and nudged you. These people didn’t know you were one of the testers of the game let alone the daughter of the creator. “My mom runs that company and created those games. I test them out.” “You have to convince her to let us test some out too.” You giggled at Jongho’s enthusiasm. “Maybe during spring break. I know mom is working on a big game.” They cheered quietly. San a little more considering he’s done it before and knows the excitement of giving suggestions. It was also a bonus when the character he creates in the test is a character that gets added to the game and is already situated to his stats.

The ride to the school felt short. Jongho proved to be a perfect fit for your friend group. He sank back at the intensity of the school but you and your friends ushered him forwards. “Don’t worry! You’re only alone until they give you a dorm and there is at least one of us in each dorm.” The first year smiled and watched as you guys sat at your respected tables. It wasn’t that long of a wait considering his surname was a C. He quickly found that he got ruby dorm. It turns out for you that Yeosang and Yunho got mixed up therefore Yunho was with San and Yeosang got transferred into his rightful dorm. The headmaster made his welcoming speech before launching into an apology. “I’d like to wish a formal apology towards two-third years. I humbly ask for you to see this as a way to make new friends.”

You glanced over at Yeosang getting surrounded by a bunch of people welcoming him into the emerald dorm. His face looked panicked, clear that he was not used to all this attention. Wooyoung seemed to notice it too and felt for his hyung. “Yeosang, hyung! You can sit with us if you want.” He looked at the two of you, happy, ecstatic to see two faces he knew. A year ago, if someone would’ve told you that you’d be sitting with Kang Yeosang, you’d have laughed in their face. But here you are now, sitting face to face with the boy. His eyes met yours and you fell into a trance. “Earth to ______!” “Sorry, what were you saying?” Wooyoung repeated his words once again, not even bothered that you had zoned out once more. The bell rang and you jumped up, ready to head to the dorms, forgetting the tradition you and Wooyoung did every day last year. “Are we not going to heat up some cream for the brownies?” You turned and nodded sheepishly while grabbing a bowl of cream someone had left. Yeosang watched in amazement as Wooyoung's hands caused the liquid to bubble.

The following weeks of school consisted of review and having awkward run-ins with Yeosang. It wasn’t until your professor introduced teleportation to you that things got started. All second years had to learn how to use their magic and teleport from one place to another. And with most people, you initially aren’t the greatest when you start to learn something. For the next few days, you’ve practiced and practiced, only teleporting to the common room and back to your room. Unfortunately, the following day, you were going to be tested on your skills, and frankly, you could barely even make it out of your bedroom. This is how you found yourself at two in the morning on the roof of the mailroom trying to teleport from one end to the other.

You closed your eyes and imagined the other side and muttered some hopeful words that this would actually work. A quiet pop sounded and you opened your eyes to complete darkness. Trying to find your way out of wherever you were, you blindly walked around only stopping when you hit your ankle on something metal. The surface you fell on was a mix between hard and soft. A pained groan emitted from behind you causing you to let out a few choice words. In the midst of the rant, a light turned on and you caught Yeosang’s brown eyes boring into yours. “Well, this is most definitely not where I wanted to teleport, sorry for appearing in your bed at 2 in the morning.” The words lingered in the air and neither one of you moved. Maybe you should just give up and fail the test.

A sigh left Yeosang’s lips and he grabbed his wand. You watched curiously as he stood up and took a place beside you. “Hold my hand.” “H-Hold your what?” His hand grabbed yours and you felt the familiar swirly feeling that you got when you teleported. A cold breeze brushed your cheeks and you shivered realizing that you were back outside. “Why did you bring me here?” This was the first time, you actually went into the gym despite this being your second year. “I’ve been hearing from Wooyoung that you have a test tomorrow and I…I wanted to help you learn to teleport.” You wanted to hold Yeosang and treasure him forever but that would be quite awkward. “Okay then. What are we waiting for?”

Turns out that either you’re a great teleporter or Yeosang is a great teacher. You opted for Yeosang though because without him, you would’ve failed. In fact, you actually aced your test. The first one since the best friend test that you did with San in first grade. When the students were to return to the dorm, you waited excitedly with the little slip of paper in your hand. For the first time, Yeosang was late back to the dorm. He found you asleep on the couch beside Wooyoung who was doing his homework. “Hey, hyung!” “Hi, Wooyoung. Why is she asleep?” He asked, pointing to your form. “She wanted to show you that she aced her test and she waited and waited for you. I came out to keep her company but she fell asleep.” Yeosang carried you to your room and tucked you into your bed. He left a note with one of the post-its that he found on your desk along with your unfinished homework. He’ll apologize tomorrow for leaving you waiting for so long.

The knock on your door woke you up. When you opened your eyes, you saw the sunlight peeping in through the cloudy windows. “Rise and shine, angel. It’s almost time for class.” Shoot. Class. You rushed to get dressed only stopping momentarily to read the note attached to your now finished homework. ‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I had some things I had to do. Meet me on the rooftop tonight at midnight so we can celebrate your success. -Yeosang’ You shoved the paper and the note in your bag before running out to the common room. “Come on Woo! We’re going to be late for class.” You two rushed to the Alchemy classroom and took your assigned seats. A smile formed on your face as you saw your seatmate had already made it there. “Good morning, Sannie!” “Morning, Sunshine.” He smiled at your chirpiness and returned his attention to the homework he was rushing to finish.

The day buzzed by and midnight arrived quickly. Quietly, you teleported to the roof and saw Yeosang already sitting on the edge. “Such a pretty moon, isn’t it?” His question caught you off guard. Had he heard you arriving. “Yes, I suppose so.” “So I heard you aced your test for the first time. Glad I could help.” You took a seat next to him and sighed, watching your breath form a cloud in the chilly air. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped me.” “I want to make a deal. For each test you ace, I’ll tell you something about me.” Yeosang is a mysterious person and plus you had so many questions about him. Why is he in the Emerald dorm? Favourite food? Cats or dogs? Why go to the academy? Why teach you? “For your first test, I’ll tell you what everyone wants to know. How am I in the ‘rich’ people dorm?”

He told you how his dad was a very famous doctor and his mother was a famous chef. His deal made you ace all your tests-with help from him of course- for the rest of the school year. By the time summer rolled around, you practically knew his entire life story, like how he loves the colors red and black or how much he treasures his drones. You knew that he vents by riding a skate board and he loves to play your mom’s videogames. His reaction was just like the other’s when you told him who your mom was. Yeosang demanded -more like pleaded but he won’t admit that- to meet your mom and praise her for her games. When you introduced him to the guys, they all welcomed him with open arms aside from Hongjoong and Seonghwa who were previously friends with him already.

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

You walked around blindly, only stopping when you hit your ankle on something metal. The surface you fell on was a mix between hard and soft. A pained groan emitted from behind you causing you to let out a few choice words. In the midst of the rant, a light turned on and you caught Yeosang’s brown eyes boring into yours. “Well, this is most definitely not where I wanted to teleport, sorry for appearing in your bed at 2 in the morning.” The words lingered in the air and neither one of you moved. Maybe you should just give up and fail the test.

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

𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

Everything was the same as last summer except this time, Yeosang was involved. The same playful banters and video games nights proceeded as normal. The adventures and park dates continued. To them, Yeosang was just another family member, not an outsider. Everything was the same down to a T. The ten of you gathered on the train once again to head to yet another year at the academy. For you, it was the third year of your life but for the older three, it was the beginning of their last year at the academy. Four years is the total amount of schooling needed to be deemed okay enough to use magic on the streets. Although, some students head onto university to further their magic education or regular education depending on who you ask. If you asked your mom, she’d say something along the lines of it’s not her place but four years is way too short.

The dorm rooms were the same as usual, clean and tiny. It almost feels like home. You sighed and sat your bags on the bed and headed to the common room to spend some time with Wooyoung. When you got downstairs, he was sitting there staring at the fire. “Hey, Woo! Long time no see.” You joked around. He smiled and tackled you in a hug. “You saw me thirty minutes ago but it does feel like forever.” He squeezed you extra tight before letting go and returning to his original seat. He patted the seat indicating that he wanted you to sit so you did. The seat was slightly warmed by the heat of the fire. It was cozy and swallowed you into the cushion. “Wooyoung?” He hummed and turned his head towards, signaling that you had his attention. “What’s going to happen to the friend group now? I mean it’s Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Yeosang’s last year. Next year Mingi, San, you and I are graduating. And, Jongho will be last. I’m scared, Woo. I don’t want to lose us.”

His eyes softened and he ran his fingers through his hair which showcased his sad eyes. It was evident, he didn’t want to lose you and the guys either. Unbeknownst to you, from the staircase, Yeosang was heartbroken and his eyes threatening to spill tears. Before he came to this school, he was a nobody. A quiet kid who was good at school and had anxiety. He couldn’t make friends, it was impossible. Yeosang couldn’t stop embarrassing himself in front of his classmates. He had told you all this already after you aced your transformation test at the very end of the year. Your words on that night will forever play in his head as a way of remembering that he could make friends who loved him. “Yeosang-ah. I want you to know that if you ever need a friend, just call me and I’ll be there.” No way could he let you guys go. Back in reality, you cried silently into Wooyoung’s sweater. Yeosang had to control his own emotions before helping you, besides, Wooyoung looked like he was doing a good job.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You hated Yeosang. You hated that he had you putty in his hands but was completely oblivious to it. Either you were going to confess or you were going to die. Those are your only two options until you told San and he suggested using a love potion. It seemed like a good idea at first but it soon became a fiasco. Neither one of you knew how to make a love potion, that was advanced stuff. Something Yunho would know. This is how you found yourself in the kitchen baking a ‘Love Cupcake” as the boys called it. “I don’t know if I’d be scared or honoured if a girl slipped me a love potion.” San pondered out loud to no one in particular. “I’d be scared.” “Yunho, you aren’t helping my mind.” He smiled and let out a quick ah as if he was going to say something. “This is the perfect thing for Yeosang. I’m tired of seeing you go for an oblivious idiot.”

The cupcake turned out messy and San ended up wearing more than half the icing due to a wrong cut to the tip of the bag. But all in all, you were pretty impressed with the look of the sweet pastry. The yellow cake topped with the light red icing was placed on a paper plate. You carefully held it and met up with the rest of the boys in the courtyard. “Yeosang! I have this for you. As a thank you.” Yeosang grabbed the cupcake and took a bite. He hummed in delight and watched you throw away the plate. “This is delicious. Thank you.” According to Yunho, once the item containing the potion is consumed, it will take up to twenty-four hours for it to set in. You mustered up the most innocent smile you could form. Now, you wait.

𝑇ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 passed and Yeosang was still acting the same as usual. No compliments, no flirting, no heart eyes. Maybe the potion was incorrect. Not possible, Yunho aced that class. Maybe, it didn’t work. It doesn’t hurt to ask the ‘Potion Master’ if something went wrong. “Three days passed and he’s still acting the same. Is it possible that it failed?” “No way. I’ve seen this work before. There’s no chance for it to go wrong.” Now you were forced to confess. Well, eventually. You turned to go back to your dorm to vent to your diary. “Hey, _____!” That smooth, deep voice set you off. You turned towards Yeosang and stomped up to him. “You-“ you forcefully poked him in the chest. “I slipped you a love potion but what the hell? You’re not even acting different.” You threw your hands up in the air in defeat at his confused look.

“Maybe, if you used your brain, you would’ve noticed a lot sooner that I like you.” Yeosang towered over you and watched as you stood in place dumbfounded. “Close your mouth princess, you’ll catch bugs.” “Y-You like me? Like, like like?” At this point, Yeosang was fed up with your obliviousness as hypocritical as it seems. “If it weren’t against the rules, I’d kiss you.” “Screw the rules!” The boys were cheering as you and Yeosang snuck a quick kiss. “Meet me on the roof tonight for our first date.” A smile appeared on your face and suddenly, you couldn’t wait for midnight to roll around. As excited you were for the night, it seems like mother time had other plans. The seconds seemed to pass by slow, almost as if each tick was an hour itself. Finally, midnight rolled around and you teleported to the roof to find Yeosang sitting on a blanket surrounded by a bunch of food. What a perfect first date for you.

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inkstaineddove · 4 years

Text

Loneliness and Alcohol

Ships: PruHun, SpaAus, GerIta; blink-and-you-missed-it USUK

Characters: Prussia, Austria, Hungary, Germany, Italy, Spain, France, America; mentioned Britain, the Netherlands, Belgium, Romano, and Belarus

Summary: Every year America sends all the nations invitations to his New Year's Eve party and every year Germany, Hungary, and Austria decline. Until 2019, when America finally invites Prussia, and they're all dragged along. It's Roderich's worst nightmare, but Gilbert and Erzsébet have plans to cheer him up.

Berlin, 2019.

Germany entered his home, grumbling and shuffling through the stack of mail in his hands. Trash, trash, bill, trash. He scowled at the sparkles sticking stubbornly to his fingers. “America’s New Year’s Eve party invitations arrived.” He glanced over at Hungary and Austria, sitting at the dining table and gossiping with Prussia. “I don’t know why he continues to send me one. I’ve been declining the damn things since the fifties. Have you two gotten yours?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve been here all weekend.” Hungary wrinkled her nose at the thought of attending. “I don’t want the hassle of flying over there. I’ll send him a bottle of champagne to be polite.”

“I received mine before I left this morning.” Austria sniffed, sticking his nose up. “I can only imagine what kind of parties he throws. They’ve got to be houses of debauchery and sin. I loathe going to New York for the U.N. meetings enough as it is. I will not be heading there in my leisure time.”

Prussia nodded vigorously. “Yeah, his stupid little shindig isn’t worth the airfare!”

“Calm down, he sent one for you too this time.” Ludwig slipped the little piece of paper before Gilbert, watching his brother’s expression change.

Eyes wide open, then blinking in disbelief, to a steely determination. This changed everything. “Actually, I’ve heard from Francis that he’s got fountains of beer flowing. Isn’t that amazing?” He took Erzsébet’s hands in his, turning his whole body towards her. “We should go! It would be fun!”

She jerked her hands away from him. “No! I refuse to go on principle! You can’t stand the guy, the only reason you want to is because he bothered to remember you this time!”

“Not true!” He felt everyone’s disbelief boring into his skin. He bowed his head, hoping humility would work in his favor. “I never get invited to anything anymore. This feels special.”

“Aw, cheer up. You still do,” she leaned in and kissed his cheek. A teasing smile inched the corner of her mouth up. “As my plus one.”

This solicited a chuckle from Roderich, who was silenced by Gilbert’s heel digging into his toe. Gilbert sighed dramatically. “I liked it better when it was the other way around.” He tucked a strand of hair behind Erzsébet’s ear. “We could go for an hour and then leave. Dance the night away far away from him. Have a picnic under the stars. Let me have my fun and then the night’s yours.”

What would be the harm in it? And, really, a night with him traipsing through New York could be rather romantic. It would make up for having to deal with everyone else. “An hour, tops, to feel like a hotshot. I don’t want to stay longer.”

Ludwig sat down, coffee in hand, in the empty seat besides Roderich and Erzsébet. “I can recommend you two a hotel close to his home. There’s a few good ones.” He looked up from his drink, meeting Gilbert’s gaze. There was an incomprehensible look in his brother’s eyes. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, wait, actually. Lean over.” He forcibly wiped away a speck of dirt from the other man’s cheek, paternal instinct kicking over. It made Gilbert feel useful and Ludwig completely embarrassed. “I’m just surprised you’re letting me go to one of these things unsupervised. This’ll be fun for me. I’ll be on my best behavior as the representative of Germany there. If his boss is there, I might ask about helping us get back some land to the east. In our best interest, of course.”

“I would consider it a victory if he even knew what Prussia was, Gilbert.” Ludwig could feel the vein in his forehead beginning to throb. He hadn’t considered this unintended consequence. He would have to trust his brother. He could do that. He could manage to trust Gilbert for one night.

Roderich gently tapped his fingers against the table, understanding what Gilbert was trying to do. “Excellent idea! And, while you’re at it, let Feliciano know not to look for Ludwig.” He turned his attention to Germany. “Afterall, he will be so gravely disappointed at your absence. My heart breaks for the poor man.” He clutched his chest for dramatic effect.

Realization dawned on Ludwig. So that’s what they were getting at. “Anything left from the third stooge, Erzsébet? Or is that enough from the peanut gallery?”

She did have something but didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. He was chewing through his cheek enough as it was already. “What was that? I don’t speak German.” She spoke, naturally, in perfect German. This won her groans from Roderich and Gilbert, who had received that joke many times before, and a stare with deadened eyes from Ludwig.

“Fine! I’ll go! Are you both happy?” Ludwig got ready to chew them both out before something clicked. “Wait. Roderich, you can’t stay here. If we’re all gone, who are you going to freeload off?”

“Must you be so rude in your phrasing?” Roderich crossed his arms over his chest. “Have you considered that having all of you not even on the same continent as me might be what I want? I would enjoy a quiet New Years with a glass of champagne while strolling through the city.”

Erzsébet rubbed a hand along his forearm. “It’s ok to say you’ll miss us. You’re the one who wanted to see us all today.”

Ludwig nodded. “And you typically show up here, unannounced.” He chuckled, remembering something. “Once you’ve had a few drinks, you start blathering on about how lonely it is in Vienna and how lovely it was during the war to have everyone living together.”

Roderich opened his mouth to protest. That sort of thing was supposed to be private and never mentioned again! Unfortunately, Gilbert reentered the room, shaking his phone in his hands. “Just got word back from the boys that they’re all going. And you know what that means, Roddy? The only person to make you feel like a man-”

“Fine, you lot win! I’ll go! We’ll all go!” He buried his head in his hands. “That is the last time I confide in either of you two. Blackmailing me like that, how low.” He shook his head.

Gilbert clapped him on the shoulder hard, causing Roderich to wince. “Relax, this really isn’t so bad.”

---

New York.

The four of them sat in complete silence, cramped in the back of a taxi. They had landed only four hours before and found themselves completely jetlagged. Gilbert had his head buried in Erzsébet’s shoulder. They both were propped up against the window. “Why did you drag me to this thing?”

She was too drained to fight back. “Because I’m an idiot.” If she closed her eyes, the continuous stopping and starting of the car felt like being rocked to sleep. There was a certain peace and rhythm to it. Her eyelids began fluttering down, down, down.

“Sir, pull over here please. We can walk the rest of the way.” Ludwig handed the man a twenty, jerking awake the drowsy trio besides him. As the most accustomed to making this flight, he was least affected by it. “Come on, get out. We’re a block away. This will perk you three right up.”

This displeased Roderich greatly. Walking, in these shoes? They were meant for completing an outfit, not for any sort of movement. “Oh, why do we care to be on time. This damn thing will be lasting the whole night.” At Ludwig’s aggrieved look, he rolled his eyes. “Fine, we’ll have it your way.”

“Of course, the one time I’m wearing heels. They’re worthless, you can’t do anything in them but stand around uselessly.” Erzsébet was having her own version of the same problem. She leaned against a wall to take them off. “Now I’ll have to walk barefoot in this grimy place.”

“You won’t. Your knight in shining armor is here to save the day.” Gilbert scooped her up bridal style, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Nothing to fret about now, Liebling.”

She gently caressed his cheek. “Quite the gentleman tonight, huh?” She leaned in against him, laughing against the crook of his neck. “I could get used to traveling around like this. I may have a job for you.”

Hearing their giggling and affectionate words, Roderich couldn’t help rolling his eyes. With all his might, he caught up to Ludwig to put further distance between himself and them. Hearing Gilbert’s low voice singing something indecipherable sent a further wave of nausea through him. “Don’t they make you sick too? It’s disgusting.”

“Hmm? Oh, them.” Ludwig chuckled. He’d been born into that weird triangle, and yet, it never ceased to amuse him. “Please, they’ve been doing that in front of me since I was a child. You get used to it.” A pause. Another chuckle. “Why see them so often if you can’t stand it still? One might think you’re a masochist.” The last word lilted up another octave. He couldn’t help it; he’d inherited his brother’s love of for annoying Roderich.

“Don’t imply things. It’s unbecoming.” Roderich shoved his hands into his coat, partly from the bite of the wind and partly to give him something to do. “Who else would I spend my time with? I have no other friends.”

Ludwig gave him a pitying look. Thankfully, before he could say anything in response, they were before Alfred’s door. Loud music could be heard booming from the other side. He politely rang the doorbell. No answer. He rang it again. “He must not be able to hear. Maybe I should call someone to let us in.”

“For Christ’s sake, Lud, we’re not vampires! Just open the damn door!” Gilbert pushed him aside and shoved the door open. Inside the home laid a different world. Sparkling balloons kissed the ceiling. Strobe lights flashed in the center, creating a dance floor. Glitter clung to the floor and women’s bodies. Some big singer, none of them knew who, stood on stage, performing her biggest hits for the receptive audience. The smell of smoke hung in the air as fireworks went off in the backyard. It was lavish, it was gaudy, it was quintessentially American.

Gilbert’s eyes traveled immediately to the promised fountain of beer. He thirstily filled a cup with some and took a sip, only to spit it back out. “My God, this is revolting! It tastes like piss!” He took out a flask of the good stuff he’d smuggled in from home out of his pocket to take the rancid flavor out of his mouth. His first goal of the night was already ruined. “Where did Ludwig go?”

“He raced off to go find Feliciano. He went…” Roderich’s voice trailed off as he tried remembering where in the sea of people Ludwig had been absorbed. His bearings were completely lost. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Erzsébet sidled up to Gilbert, a devilish smirk on her face. “You know, Alfred’s got plenty of rooms here. What do you say about sneaking away and having a good, long nap?”

He snaked his arms around her waist. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” They began laughing like school children, enjoying their little conspiracy.

Roderich’s irritation grew further. He began tapping his foot, needing somewhere to put his frustrated energy. “You two don’t need to play so coy. Or, if you must, I would expect you to be more creative than using napping as a euphemism.”

Blank stares met him. “Roddy, we’re literally going to take a nap. We’re both exhausted.” Gilbert began elbowing him in the side. Roderich didn’t trust the glint in his eyes. “If you’re so worried about our sex life, I can fill you in on the details.”

Before Roderich could even respond, Erzsébet was dragging Gilbert away, his guffawing thankfully swallowed by the noise of the crowd. Roderich sighed, relieved to be alone. A new problem arose. Now, what would he do, who would he follow? He looked around the room, hoping for some familiar face. No one. A mass of strangers, swaying along to the music and spilling their drinks. Nothing he wanted to be apart of.

Where were his manners? He’d been graciously invited to another person’s home and he hadn’t even thanked the host yet. Being around all these ruffians had caused him to forget himself. Straightening his suit jacket, he began braving the throngs of people. Along the way, between getting nudged around by delirious dancers, a glass of wine had made its way into his hand. He didn’t mind. Surprisingly, it was of excellent quality. He suspected it must’ve been the Italians’ gracious donation to the festivities.

There in the backyard was the host. Alfred was bumping and grinding away in the center, dirty dancing with an incredibly inebriated Arthur. Francis was yoking them up, benefiting himself from the hordes of beautiful men and women attending. Roderich would rather avoid them, but it would go against the rules of decorum he so stringently followed. Mustering up all his courage, he approached.

“Alfred. Alfred! America!” Finally, America’s attention was caught over the music. “I sincerely want to thank you for the invitation. I wish I had attended one of your parties sooner, but I’m usually quite busy this time of year, what with the holidays.” He was lying through his teeth. He wanted nothing more than to be back in Vienna. This was the kind of nightmare scenario only Gilbert could drag him into.

“Yeah, dude, no probs. You’re totally invited here whenever. Me casa, is your casa.” It appeared that Alfred was long gone as well. “Dude, you should’ve been here hours ago. We’ve been pregaming it since nine this morning.” His laugh, which was always obnoxious, was even more grating. “Tomorrow’s gonna be the most intense hangover in the history of hangovers, right Artie?”

Arthur had lost the ability to speak and was only able to communicate in a series of grunts. Sensing Roderich’s horror, Francis swooped in. “Come, let’s go inside to the bar there.” He began steering them away from the center of the party, tutting his lips. “This is no good, why did you come? Your weak constitution can’t handle these sorts of events. Who dragged you here?” He shook his head, knowing the answer already. “No, don’t tell me. You have to stick up for yourself more.”

“I’ll have you know, perhaps I wanted to come on my own. I’m capable of deciding things for myself, unprompted.” He didn’t have to see Francis’ face to know the reaction to what he said. He sighed. “Who else would I have spent my time with? No one wants to spend New Years alone.” He realized they were still speaking English, instead of switching to French like Francis preferred in one-on-one conversations. Despite not showing it, the other man must’ve been drinking heavily too.

Suddenly, Francis turned around. His index finger traced Roderich’s jawline. “No, you are too beautiful to ever be alone. It’s good you came tonight. Come with me, I can make you forget all your worries for the night.” He allowed Francis to kiss his cheek, his breath stinging of stale booze. “It’s been too long since we’ve been together. Please, honor me with the memory of how you win with love.”

Despite himself, Roderich had to admit it was tempting. If everyone else was going to have their fun tonight – or, so he assumed, he had no plans on asking – then why shouldn’t he? “My apologies, but it seems that memories are all you’ll have tonight. From me, anyways.” It wouldn’t feel right. Not when he was so clearly off his game. Leaving him staring after him, Roderich took a spot at the bar.

Nursing a glass of wine, he considered that this wasn’t so bad. At home, in front of his favorite café, he enjoyed people watching. It was a peaceful way of passing the time, to see all the people rush by and create little stories for where they were going. Normally, it was quite easy to get into it, but he saw too many people he knew. Romano with his arms around two women’s waist. The Netherlands being yelled at over money by an irate woman. Belgium shimmied to the bar and back, laughing with a group of girls she’d befriended. Everyone was here, everyone was having a good time. The only mystery was why wasn’t he.

Before the full wave of self-pity could sweep him, he spotted Germany and Italy chatting on a couch. It was a sign, a sign that he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the night in the corner. Never in his life had he been so excited to see Feliciano. He even greeted the man with a warm hug, ignoring the frustration rolling off Ludwig in waves.

“Austria! Ludwig was telling me you were here, but I didn’t believe him! How exciting, having the both of you here!” Feliciano was practically vibrating with joy. He was overcome with emotion, but that came as no surprise to his companions. It’s how he always was. “Sit down next to me, I can sit on Ludwig’s lap!”

Roderich complied, ignoring the daggers Ludwig was shooting at him. “Well, it would be rude not to.” He full attention was on Feliciano. “Tell me, how have you been? Did you only recently arrive?” With that, he was off to the races. The Italian could talk a mile a minute, filling up all the space in the room. For once, Roderich didn’t find it annoying. It gave him something to focus on, something to find enjoyment in. And he was having a good time. The kid had grown up to be entertaining in his own way.

The same could not be said for Ludwig. The vein in his forehead was throbbing. Before this, he had been having a nice evening, much to his chagrin. Having his cousin tag along was not something he wanted. He cleared his throat. “Where’s Gilbert and Erzsébet? Did you lose track of them?”

“They ran off as soon as we got here to sleep together.” Roderich realized his mistake. “To nap! Supposedly they’re jet-lagged.” His face felt extremely hot.

“I guess they woke up cause there they are. Gil! Erzsi!” Feliciano jumped up, waving towards them at the bar. They began waving them over. “Let’s all go over to them! I wanna say hi!”

While his date was preoccupied, Ludwig had been furiously shaking his head at them. “No!” This didn’t need to become a family affair. He wouldn’t have it become that. “Actually, France is looking for us. Let’s go find him.” Not waiting for an answer, he dragged away a very startled Feliciano.

Once again abandoned, Roderich slinked back to the bar. As soon as he arrived, he was ensnared by Gilbert’s arm. He could smell scotch on his breathe as he spoke. “What have you been up to, Roddy? You better be out there, mingling with everyone, making me proud.”

His silence was telling. Erzsébet put a hand to her chest, sighing. “Oh, he’s so lonely. Gil, we have to take him in.” Much to Roderich’s dismay, they both were far gone. They couldn’t have been sleeping for long to be this drunk. That, or they kept downing drink after drink in short succession. He wasn’t sure which was more comforting.

His protestations that he wasn’t some stray puppy were drowned out by Gilbert. “Of course, we can! Who else would take care of him? Oh, don’t look so depressed, Roddy.” He leaned over the bar. “Can we get a round of kamikazes?”

Roderich stared down at his little glass. He sniffed at it and scrunched his nose up. What a foul concoction. “I appreciate it, but I don’t see how this will improve my mood.”

“It’ll help you loosen up. You’ve been uptight ever since we were on the plane.” Erzsébet gently elbowed him in the side. “I know this isn’t your thing. Try to have a little fun, Roderich. No one here is going to judge you for it.”

She herself looked so at peace, didn’t he want a little bit of that? Besides, the two of them were staring at him so expectantly. Did it matter this much to them that he felt included and part of their little group? He had thought they only kept him around out of pity, perhaps it was more than that. “You two are a horrible influence on me.” He knocked the shot back, met with rapturous cheering from them.

Another three rounds and Roderich himself was now feeling the effects. His ears were so warm, his feet so tingly. It took all his balance to lean into the bar counter for support. His vision was a little fuzzy, but he still felt aware of everything around him. That awareness was spent on watching them – their arms intertwined, feeding another shot to each other, foreheads pressed together while giggling. “Doesn’t that get tiring?” Maybe it wasn’t for them, but he found it exhausting.

That snapped them out of their fog. Gilbert was grinning like an idiot. “Why would it get tiring? I’ve spent lifetimes waiting for her. I’ve got her now, so completely. You want me to back off for your comfort? Please, I couldn’t if I wanted to.” He had been staring into Erzsébet’s eyes as he spoke. He leaned in, only to find he was kissing air.

Erzsébet had been speaking at the same time as him, giving Roderich difficulty in following along with them both. All her usual inhibitions in speaking on this subject towards her ex were gone. “I had a crush on him growing up and now I get to live out a fairy tale. He’s right, we’re made for each other. And,” a devilish look settled on her face. When Gilbert went in for his kiss, she had pulled Roderich towards her to whisper in his ear. She dished on all the vulgar reasons for their behavior.

“Good God, Erzsi! I don’t want to hear all that!” He gently pushed her away and stole her drink, finishing it in one gulp. He hoped to forget what she had said, but she’d painted too vivid of a picture for him. “Why would you think that appropriate?”

“Wait, what did you say?” Gilbert leaned down so she could repeat it. “You tease.” They locked lips, grabbing at each other’s clothes.

Roderich didn’t know whose tongue he was seeing, but he knew he wanted it gone. He pulled them apart. “Holy shit, enough! Enough! Are you two forgetting that I’m here?”

“You’re right, Roderich, I’m sorry.” She pulled him into a deep kiss. Once satisfied, she let him go with a laugh. “There, now it’s just like old times. Oh, but what were we saying before? Right! I wouldn’t mind if you told me whatever you got up to. It’s been, what? A hundred years since the divorce? What happens in our personal lives now doesn’t matter.”

At the mention of their divorce, Gilbert ordered another round of shots. He shoved one onto Roderich, who certainly didn’t want to be drinking to that. At this point, why did it matter? Why did anything matter? Seeing whatever that mess was in the backyard, hearing in detail about Erzsébet and Gilbert’s sex life, becoming completely wasted. There was no meaning to this night. “Well, if we’re being honest, there’s nothing to say. I haven’t been with anyone in years.” He clinked glasses with his shocked companions. “Cheers to the life of a bachelor.” He enjoyed his drink.

His admission was a surprising one. Hadn’t this been the man who, during his days of empire, was willing to lie down with anyone if it served his purpose? How could this behavior have so suddenly ceased? It was no wonder he was so perpetually grumpy; it was a much deeper problem than Roderich’s baseline snootiness. Gilbert and Erzsébet shared a look of understanding. A moment of clarity provided them with a new purpose for the night.

Erzsébet began straightening his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles with her hands. Once she felt her work completed , she combed his hair with her fingers, tucking loose strands behind his ears. “Oh, Roderich, you poor thing.”

For his part, Gilbert ran through a list of people he knew in his head. “Francis would be an easy one. But then you run the risk of catching syphilis and that’s no good. You shouldn’t go near strangers, you can’t talk to anyone.” He drummed his fingers against the bar counter. “Natalya’s gorgeous, but no one can handle that.”

This was ridiculous. Roderich didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this. Why did he allow himself to be strong-armed into this night? “Stop it, I never asked for this. Both of you, you’ve completely lost it.” His head felt woozy and it wasn’t from the drinks. Their pity was dizzying.

If they heard him, they didn’t care. Something else had caught their attention. “Spain!” Damn Prussia’s voice and how it always carried. Spain was snapped to attention and began waving them over. As he was pushed along, Austria decided this was the worst possible outcome of his life. Forced to travel to a country he found the bane of the civilized world, his only company his ex-wife and the man who was quickly becoming his worst enemy again and humiliating himself before his ex-husband. It would almost be comical if it wasn’t reality.

“My life is a tragedy of errors.” Austria sighed wistfully. He suddenly missed the days where he was on top of the world and wouldn’t be made to suffer such indignities. Though, if he allowed himself to be honest, how much they cared was oddly charming if they weren’t so overzealous.

Spain was equally thrown off by the sight before him, but for much different reasons. “Oh, you three are still keeping up with that getting along thing. I would’ve thought all of you would be tired of each other by now.” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing. “I miss the fighting, it was much more interesting.”

“If it’ll get you in the mood, we can start hitting each other.” Gilbert shrugged, ignoring the horror on Antonio’s face. “Put the lust back in bloodlust, you know.”

Roderich was staring intently at the floor. He thanked the dim lighting for hiding his blush. “Gilbert, I swear to god. If you keep speaking, it’ll be like the old days in more ways than one.” He spoke through gritted teeth, trying to control the outburst that was begging to be let loose.

Gilbert tried to wink, but due to his intoxication it appeared more as a twitch. “I understand completely. New tactic. I’ll help you loosen up instead.” He started vigorously massaging Roderich’s shoulders. “Shit, you’ve got a lot of tension. What’s got you so stressed out?”

To make matters worse, Erzsébet began giving him a pep talk. She was bouncing around on the balls of her feet with her fists in front of her like a prize fighter. “Rod, you’ve got this. You’ve done this before, you can do it again. Give him the full force of your charm! Start smiling, it makes you look pretty!”

Antonio had not moved from his spot. He watched them closely, unable to contain his laughter. For him, this was an amusing little skit. A performance that could be fully enjoyed. Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, he smiled. “Are they alright? What’s going on here?”

“They think I’m pathetic so they’re trying to be my wingmen.” Roderich shrugged Gilbert off, glaring at him. “They’re so out of it, I don’t think they realize how much more harm than good they could be doing.”

“Oh, who are they trying to set you up with?”

The three stooges ceased their nonsense. Could Antonio really be that oblivious? Was it not painfully obvious? Then they remembered who they were dealing with. Of course he would be like this. Slowly, acting as if they were dealing with a startled animal, Erzsébet and Gilbert backed away. Roderich could still feel their eyes on them, but for the first time didn’t care.

“That part doesn’t really matter.” Despite the shift in the mood, he wasn’t about to admit his hand so early. That would be more embarrassing than everything that had happened previously. No, not while a spark of hope just reignited itself. “What I’m more interested is in you.” His tongue was too loose. “In what’s been going on with you! How’ve you been, why you’re here.” It was a lackluster recovery, but Antonio didn’t seem to pay it mind.

“You’re really only interested in small talk with me? Roddy, I think we know each other better than that.” Antonio gently bumped him with his shoulder. “I’m not the mystery here. You’re out here, partying, drinking the night away. I couldn’t believe it at first. I thought it was your evil twin.”

Roderich swirled his glass of wine in his hand. “I don’t quite believe it myself. But the mark of a good man is in his acceptance and willingness to change, to be open to experience.” He chuckled, a crass joke coming to mind. “And you know me, I’ll try anything once.”

That won him a surprised and appreciative laugh. Roderich forgot how comfortable Antonio was, how easy his presence was. A part of him had missed this, a part of him he had tucked away many years ago. This was the man that started it all for him. There was a nostalgia there, a sense of belonging and home. Was it memories as substitute for any remaining chemistry? Who was to say? Certainly, he didn’t find himself caring at this moment. Hard questions could be answered tomorrow. Let tonight be for spontaneity.

As they spoke, the physical and emotional distance kept growing smaller. It was only when their arms were brushing against each other that Roderich fully noticed the lack of personal space. He found himself appraising Antonio’s figure, starting from his toes to his calves to his thighs to his…assets to his chest and lingering in his eyes. “I forgot how nicely you cleaned up. You’ve always looked-” Divine? Beautiful? Stunning? Flirting had never been his forte, much to aggrievement of both his spouses. “Resplendent.”

“Oh, don’t make me blush. Wait, here.” Antonio began futzing with Roderich’s tie, chuckling. “Didn’t get someone to tie the knot for you this time? Let me fix it for you.” In a fluid motion, he made the tie a bit tighter than needed. Their eyes remained locked the whole time, a smirk on the corner of Antonio’s lips and a blush darkening Roderich’s face.

Uproarious cheering broke out throughout the home. The ball had dropped. The new year had begun. Without saying a word, Antonio pulled him in. Their lips met and it felt like renewal. Whatever remained of Roderich’s restraint fell away when Antonio tugged at his lip. What brought him back to reality was the overjoyed sounds of Erzsébet and Gilbert, celebrating in their victory.

He rolled his eyes, a thousand different things coming to mind. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish. What could he bark at them? Their actions had been maddening throughout the whole night. And, while he found how they had behaved degrading for all involved, what did it show him? That, in their very strange way, they truly cared about him. That they didn’t view him as the third wheel who continued to tag along out of habit, but as part of their weird little group was. Whatever the result of the rest of the night, he considered this to be more important.

Friendship. It was the only kind of friendship either of them were capable of – messy and complex and interwoven in ways no other parties could ever fully understand. He valued it most of all.

Roderich held up his watch and tapped it. He couldn’t believe himself. “It’s midnight. You two better catch up with the rest of us.” For the first time in his life, he actually laughed as they grabbed for each other and began kissing (he supposed that’s what it was, it was far too animalistic for his tastes) with frantic energy.

Antonio looped his arm through Roderich’s and began steering him towards the door. “Come on, Cinderella. I’ll walk you back to your hotel room.”

“Such a gentleman.” What a way to ring in the new year.

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miss-tc-nova · 4 years

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The Last Of The Real Ones - Noel Kreiss x Fem!Reader Pt 1

True to form, this is based off the Fall Out Boy song, which is what I was listening to when I played Lightning Returns. And yes, every chapter title is a lyric from the song. Can’t help that music is my muse.

~~~~~

Part 1: Too Good To Be True

Blinking against the light, I roll onto my back to stare up at the dingy ceiling. My eyes slip to the brunette snoozing away beside me and the guilt immediately comes crashing down, threatening to drown me.

I’m not the person he wants here but she’s not here. I don’t know exactly what drew me to Noel Kreiss to begin with, but as I travelled with him and Serah, a list began forming and only grew. However, knowing his end goal to be with his childhood friend again, I kept my feelings to myself, deciding that I’d be happy just helping him reach his dream. And then it all went to hell and Noel became a much darker person. It killed me inside to see him like that. I was willing to dig my own grave to make him happy again, even if it was me he’d never fall in love with, but I slipped up.

I was on my way to see Snow and had to pass through Luxerion. As always, Noel found me and then sniffed out my injury like a bloodhound. The man made me go to his home to have a look at the gash on my back. I caught him staring and I told myself it was just my imagination. But it happened a few more times and I wanted so badly to taste even just a kiss. Then my first mistake: “You know those urges are natural.” One thing led to another and I fell for my own desires. I did everything I could to assure mostly myself that I wasn’t looking for a relationship out of it; he was happy with that—every word was a blow to the heart.

Personally, I’d been convinced it was a one-time thing. I tried not to dwell on it; I didn’t need the emotional damage. But once I passed through the city again a few decades later, I had Noel’s hands at my hips and lips skimming along my neck, begging for another round. My lust for him had me whipped and these affairs became a regular thing. Even though he continued to instigate these encounters, I can’t help thinking of Yeul and the guilt gets me every time. But I just keep coming back.

I sit up and shove the hair from my face. Just as I step off the bed, Noel gives a soft moan that sets my heart aflutter. I peer over my shoulder to see his blue eyes focusing on me.

“Morning,” I hum, reaching for my underwear on the floor.

“Good morning.” He props himself up on an arm. “How did you sleep?”

I shrug, picking up the bra. “Not any better than usual. You?”

“Best night of sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

I can’t help laughing. “Then I must be doing something right.”

“And I’m not?” He chuckles.

Standing up, I pull on my pants. “Excuse me; my insomnia has nothing to do with what happened last night. Not everything is about you.”

“Yeah yeah.”His back turns to me and my eyes linger there longer than they should. “So where are you planning to go next?”

“Ah, I should go see Snow. It’s been a while since I checked on him.” The front of my vest zips to conceal my chest. Noel heaves an aggravated sigh. “You still mad at him? You know mankind would be at war with itself if he didn’t step in.” He glances back at me. “Yeah, I was at that meeting. Anyway, I’m just going to make sure the city’s doing alright.”

Pulling his shirt down, Noel turns back to me. “I’ll be surprised if it’s not run into the ground with that hot-head running it.”

“Be nice. He’s trying his best, just like you are.” My hooked blades holster up at my lower back. “Now, are you going to be a gentleman and walk me to my train or are you going to day dream about me all day?”

He gives me a cheeky grin. “Yes.”

“Pfft.”

I bid my friend goodbye, and the moment he’s out of sight, I can no longer smile. The guilt seeps across my brain and I hate myself, as always.

In Yusnaan, I stroll straight to the palace. As I climb the steps to the Augur’s Quarter, a flash of rose passes by me and I pause as she speaks.

“So you’re the Angel that everyone’s been praising.”

“Not like I chose the name,” I sneer, not looking back.

“No. I guess you didn’t, but what’s the use of an Angel when there’s already a Savior.”

“No idea. Why don’t you ask God when the world ends.”

“Sounds like more trouble than it’s worth if you ask me. He’s probably lying to you anyway.”

With shock and a bit of wrath, I turn on the child, but she’s gone. I’d heard of her, but hadn’t encountered her before. Everyone’s mentioned how troublesome she is and after I heard that she’d given Noel that Oracle Drive, I wanted to tear into her.

I let the incident slide and continue my trek to see Snow. A breath of awe leaves me when I find a pillar of ice in the midst of the ballroom. I know that Snow had been struggling lately, but this is bad.

“Let me see him,” I demand of the guards to the throne room.

“No can do, ma’am. Patron’s orders.”

“The Patron will see me or you’ll see the bottom of my boots.”

They raise their guns and my hands move to my weapons, but the door behind them opens. The blonde I seek pokes his head out.

“What’s all the noise out here?” He spots me. “Oh, you guys can let her in. Trust me. Don’t wanna get in her way.”

“Uh…Yes sir.” The men drop their weapons and salute.

I stride past them, arms folding. “Good choice,” I hum as the doors close behind me.

“Well if I didn’t accept your visit I would’ve lost two decent men,” Snow chuckles. “So what brings you to Yusnaan? Slay another monster you’re trying to piece out?” I can see the weariness plain on his face.

“Not this time. Just dropping by to check on our almighty hero.”

He scratches at the back of his head. “Well the hero’s ‘bout ready to retire.”

I let the snarky attitude fall. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He gives a shaky laugh that agitates the gloominess in me that no-doubt everyone shares. “Did you hear? The Savior’s finally shown herself.”

I feel like he’s struck me. “She’s come back?” My brain instantly goes to Noel and his prophecy.

“Yeah. Ruined my party the other day.”

I try to play off my anxieties. “Is that what all that ice is about? And here I thought you were just redecorating.”

“No. She’s really back and she’s collecting souls to save.”

“And what do you think?”

He scratches at the back of his head. “I think she’s the only one who can really save us?”

“So you’ll be giving her your soul?”

To my dismay, he shakes his head. “I don’t think I have time. By the time she finds me, that Chaos infusion will be too big. There won’t be any soul to save.”

Snow has always been the hero we didn’t deserve. No matter what life threw at him, he moved forward, always protecting people. Seeing him like this, broken and tired, it kills me inside. There’s nothing I can do for him now, not without jeopardizing everything. All I can do is pray that Lightning will save him. And even though Noel is determined to make his prophecy come true, I hope she can save him too. As long as she does her job, I can entrust my friends to her.

“You truly are a hero, Snow.”

He shows off his teeth. “I try.”

#noel kreiss #noel kreiss x reader #lightning returns #lightning returns final fantasy 13 #lightning returns final fantasy xiii #ff noel #ff noel kreiss #ffxiii noel #ff13 noel #ff13 noel kreiss #ffxiii noel kreiss #ffxiii-2 #ffxiii-2 noel #ff13-2 #ff13-2 noel #fem!reader

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

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COSMIC - S1:E5; Chapter Five, The Flea and The Acrobat - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴 𝘔𝘳. 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you."

'I can't believe I'm at Will's funeral.'

"Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." The pastor continued.

I spared a glance at the people around me.

I looked to Jonathan, his head bowed, and poor Joyce who was sitting nearby.

I can't imagine what they must be going through.

Joyce was like a second mother to me, and she has always treated as if I was one of her own. I'll always be grateful for that. I lay a hand on her shoulder.

I smiled solemnly at her and let go, listening to the rest of the service.

"It's times like these that our faith is challenged. How, if he is truly benevolent... could God take us from someone so young, so innocent?"

I looked down at my feet.

"It would be easy to turn away from God... but we must remember that nothing, not even tragedy, can separate us from His love."

I felt a nudge on my shoulder and turned to look at Dustin. He wore a sly smirk as he looked to his right, past me and Mike.

Frowning in confusion, I turned my head to see what he was smirking about.

"Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral." Dustin said cheekily.

I scoffed under my breath, rolling my eyes.

"Since when has she cared about Will? She couldn't even get his name right, remember that week she called him Bill?" I huffed, crossing my arms in distaste.

The boys smirked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Somebody jealous?" Lucas smirked.

"No-! Not ev- Shut up!" I scowl.

The boys giggle earning more than a few concerned and offended glances making me smile to myself. Mrs. Wheeler leaned down and shushed the boys making me smirk more.

'Serves them right.'

Soon enough, the casket had been lowered into the grown and roses had been thrown on top. I made my way to the very side of the grave, looking down.

"I know you're not dead. But I swear to God, if you don't come back I'm gonna kill you." I muttered to the casket in the ground.

As people began to filter out, we watched as Mike's mom said her condolences to Will's parents.

"I'm so, so sorry."

"Oh, thank you so much for coming." Will's dad said.

I never liked him.

Joyce was just standing by herself quietly, her arms crossed looking down at the grave.

"Yeah, if there's anything we can do..." Mr. Wheeler offered, shaking the man's hand.

"I appreciate it. Thank you so much."

"Mom, will you give me a minute?"

"Of course, Pumpkin," She smiled at me with sympathy.

I turned around and wove through the crowd that had separated me from Joyce. I tapped her on the shoulder, seeming to jostle her from her thoughts a second time.

Upon seeing it was me, she smiled.

"Hi, Ms. Byers."

"Oh, hi Y/n. Thank you, for coming, sweetheart," She smiled.

I captured her in a bear hug and she gladly reciprocated, giving my several comforting strokes.

"Of course. I'm so, so sorry for your loss." I said, letting her go.

"Oh, thank you, honey. T-Tell me, how have you been holding up?" She asked gently.

My eyes welled up.

"I'm not gonna lie, it's- it's been really hard. I just, I just miss him so much. Your son was such a good person. Always a gentleman." I knew what I was saying.

Even if he is alive for sure, everything I said was true. He always has been nothing but kind to me.

Not to mention, I owe him for so much.

She seemed extremely thankful for hearing that and I was glad I could make her genuinely smile on this sad day.

"Really? Oh sweetie, thank you. That means, just so much to me."

I look back to my mom and brother waiting for me by the car, and I return my gaze back to Ms. Byers.

"Um, I better go. My mom is waiting for me. I guess I'll be seeing you at the wake. Goodbye, Ms. Byers."

"Thank you again, Y/n. I'll see you later, okay?" Her face slightly fell and she smiled at me.

I nod and begin walking backward sending a small wave her way before turning around a breaking out into a small jog to catch up to my mom.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Being at the funeral of your best friend is daunting and quite surreal.

Being at the funeral of your best friend who is quite possibly alive in another dimension and you and only four other people know this is a completely different ballpark.

We had all met up at the wake and regrouped.

The plan was to ask Mr. Clarke if there was anything he could tell us about the theories regarding alternate dimensions. I'm just praying that we don't arouse suspicion given the setting.

"Mr. Clarke?" The tall man turned his attention away from the buffet to look at us.

Mr. Clarke smiled sympathetically. "Oh, hey, there."

The somber look came easily to my face as I looked to Mr. Clarke, Mike, and Lucas on either side of me while Dustin was digging into the buffet.

"How are you kids holding up?"

Lucas speaks up for us, slightly distracted by Dustin's blatant chewing. "We're... in... mourning."

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers," Dustin sighed, shaking his head.

My eyes widen softly, and I look to Mr. Clarke trying to cover for him.

"You'll have to excuse my brother, Mr. Clarke, he's-" I stop midsentence to see him happily munching on more snacks, and look back to Mr. Clarke. "well, he mourns in his own... special way."

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" Mike asked, wanting to move things along as quickly as possible.

"We have some questions," Lucas added.

I shook my head in agreement. "A lot of questions, actually,"

Mr. Clarke complied and the four of us found ourselves at the nearest table, asking our teacher about other dimensions at our "dead" friends' wake. Not something I ever could have imagined doing.

"So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Segan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?"

"Yeah, sure. Theoretically." Mr. Clarke replies, noticeably confused at the subject of our questions.

"Right, theoretically,"

"So, theoretically, how do we travel there?" Lucas asked.

"You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett's Many-World's Interpretation, haven't you?" A ghost of a smile on our teacher's face.

"Yeah," I chuckled, nodding my head in response.

The boys looked at me, wondering why I had said that.

I gave them a look that said, 'I don't know, just go with it.'

"Yeah, that's not what we're talking about," Lucas sighed, leaning back.

"Oh."

"We were thinking of more of an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows. You know the Vale of Shadows?" Dustin asked, taking another loud bite of his off brand Nilla Wafers.

Not thinking that our science teacher would know anything about Dungeons and Dragons, I was completely taken aback by his next words.

"An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic–"

"Yeah, exactly." Mike said cutting him off.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"If that did exist - a place like the Vale of Shadows - how would we travel there?"

"Theoretically, of course." I add.

"Well..."

Mr. Clarke grabbed an empty paper plate and pulled out a pen from his jacket pocket. He then drew a straight line across the paper plate as he spoke, creating a visual for us.

"Picture... an acrobat..." He drew a small stick figure on top of the lines. "standing on a tightrope. Now, the tightrope is our dimension. And our dimension has rules."

He began drawing arrows on either side of the acrobat.

"Right." We all agreed.

The boys and I all shared the same look before returning our gaze to Mr. Clarke. "Upside Down."

"Exactly."

Mike spoke up. "But we're not the flea, we're the acrobat."

"In this metaphor, yes, we're the acrobat."

"So we can't go upside down?" Lucas asked warily.

"No."

"Well, is there any way for the acrobat to get to the Upside Down?"

He folded the paper plate in half, creasing it shut before shoving his pen directly through both sides of the paper plate. "you create a doorway."

"Like a gate?" My brother asked eagerly.

"Sure. Like a gate. But again, this is all–"

"Theoretical." I smile, nodding my head.

"But... but what if this gate already existed?" Mike asked, timidly.

"Well, if it did, I... I think we'd know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole."

Mike seems to gauge our reactions, and I'm the only one who met his eye with an equally uncertain gaze.

"Science is neat." Mr. Clarke continued. "But I'm afraid it's not very forgiving."

We all lean back, digesting the information.

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