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favefandomimagines · 3 years

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Why? (t.h.)

Summary: you and tom broke up at the young age of 21, after the success of Captain America: Civil War. now 3 years later, you run into him again with your three year old son

AN: more angst than fluff that’s for sure and here’s a twist: Evans!Reader (i’m also really bad a writing how toddlers sound so use your imagination)

When you imagined having a baby, you thought of the basic evolution of adulthood. Meet, marriage, then kids. Not meet, date for a year and a half, then baby. A baby who you were currently raising on your own.

The breakup between you and Tom was the opposite of mutual. You didn’t want it. You wanted to be with him even before you got pregnant. But he wanted other things.

He wanted other people. And that’s the part that broke your heart.

“I don’t understand. You have never mentioned this before.” You said to him. “Y/N, it’s not you, okay? It’s just, we’re young. We’re 21 years old, our careers are just taking off. Don’t you want to be free?” Tom explained.

“Free? You think I’m tying you down?” You questioned. “That’s not what I said.” Tom rebutted. “That’s exactly what you said! You think being in a relationship with me is tying you down. Well, fine Tom. If this is what you want, this is what you’ll get.” You snapped.

You began to pack up everything you could fit in your small, weekender bag. “I’m going home and I never want to speak to you again.” You sneered. “No, Y/N, don’t do this. We can still be friends.” He told you. “No we can’t. Because I can’t be the friend who’s hopelessly in love with a guy who doesn’t love her back.” You said.

“I do love you-” He started before you cut him off. “Don’t lie to make yourself feel better.” You sneered. You walked to the door of the hotel you were staying in and slammed it shut.

You were a mess after the breakup. Physically ill is how you described it to people. You never left your room most days and when you did, you glued yourself to the couch. You lived off of Ben and Jerry’s and The Notebook.

Your friends tried to get you out of your apartment. But you didn’t feel like going out and facing the paparazzi. Especially when every time you stood up, you felt sick to your stomach.

Even your older brother stayed with you most days. He didn’t want you to be alone.

That’s when your friend suggested something. “When did you get your period?” She asked you. When she asked, you couldn’t remember when. You chalked it being late up to the stress you were feeling because of Tom and being cast in a new TV show.

But, your friend bought you the test anyways. And it was positive. Your world was crumbling around you and now you had to fend for a baby. Tom told you he wasn’t going to leave you so you didn’t use a condom. And you couldn’t be on birth control because of underlying health issues you had.

You were pregnant and you were going to have to raise a child by yourself. But your family was there through it all. Chris came to every doctor’s appointment with you, already earning the title of ‘world’s best uncle.’

You were about four months along when Kevin Feige called you about shooting an end credit scene for Spider-Man: Homecoming. How were you going to hide a baby bump from the cast and crew? But the only person you needed to keep it from was Tom. He didn’t want you so why should he be apart of the baby’s life? You would ask yourself that simply out of anger. There was no logical reasoning behind it.

You shot the scene while pregnant and quickly left Atlanta before anyone began asking any questions. The main one being: who’s the dad?

The night you gave birth, your entire family was at your side. Throughout the entire 20 hour labor before you welcomed a baby boy into the world. Theodore Evans-Holland was the newest member of the family. But Holland was only on the birth certificate.

Three years had passed since you gave birth to Theo and when they said being a working mother was hard, they weren’t lying. Word spread that you got pregnant but the identity of the father unknown by the public. Including Tom. When asked about Theo in interviews you say it was a one night stand with a friend and that you weren’t together romantically. No one questioned a thing.

On the set of Infinity War and Endgame, your mom brought Theo to visit often. He got to see his mom and his uncle Chris be superheroes.

“And cut! Let’s take a quick break! Y/N needs to go be a mom.” Anthony Russo joked. You smiled brightly at the three year old who was sitting on your makeup artist’s lap.

You picked him and placed sloppy kisses all over his face, making the little boy laugh. “Are you having fun?” You asked him. “Yes!” He replied loudly. “Uncle Chwis!” Theo yelled, pointing to his uncle across the set. You couldn’t say no to him so you brought him to his uncle who was talking to Chris and Robert.

Tom watched as you brought your child over to the three men. He didn’t know you moved on so quick. But he didn’t have a right to be mad. He broke up with you, not the other way around. Though a part of him couldn’t help but wish it was his son.

You and Theo had decided to have a fun day since it was relatively nice in LA. You took him to the zoo and the aquarium before stopping at the Starbucks close to your house as a nice treat.

Theo was a big fan of their frappucinos.

You were holding him as he was beginning to get a little bit fussy after such a long day.

“Y/N?” You heard from behind you. You turned around and saw Tom in the line behind you waiting for his name to be called. “Oh, uh, hi Tom.” You greeted him. “How are you?” He asked. “I’m fine. Just waiting on our order.” You answered.

“Mommy, that’s spider-man.” Theo whispered to you. “Yes, baby, that is spider-man.” You spoke to him. “Hey little man.” Tom greeted the young boy. “You two have the cutest son. He looks just like his dad.” An older lady commented on the two of you.

“No, he’s uh, not mine.” Tom quickly corrected her. The lady looked from you back to Tom before giving a pretty fake smile. “We, uh, we have to go. Theo needs a nap.” You said quickly, grabbing your drinks and making your way towards the exit.

“Y/N, wait!” Tom called. You stopped a turned around to look at him. You and Tom looked at one another for a few moments before he looked at Theo. You could see he was doing the math in his head and analyzing Theo’s facial features.

It was true though. He did look just like his dad. Same hair, same eyes, he had your nose though.

“See you around, Tom.” You said breaking the silence before walking back towards your car.

Later that evening, you were sitting on the couch with Theo watching Captain America. It was his favorite movie at the moment because he got to watch uncle Chris be a superhero.

You were alerted by the sound of the doorbell and wondered who would be at your door at such an odd hour. “Stay here, buddy.” You told your son as you got up to answer the door.

And when you did, you were very tempted to close it right in his face. Because Tom was standing on your doorstep looking completely distraught.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “He’s mine, isn’t he? Theo’s my son.” He said. You were quiet for a moment before you stepped out on to the porch so Theo wouldn’t hear.

“Yes. Theo is your’s.” You answered quietly. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tom asked, the anger in his voice very evident. “Because, Tom, you didn’t want me anymore! A kid wasn’t going to change that! It would tie you down even more than I did.” You replied. “I had a right to know. I’m his father.” He said.

You ran a hand through her hair as you squeezed your eyes shut trying to make the tears go away.

“You didn’t want me, Tom. You didn’t want to be with me and a kid wasn’t going to magically fix that. Who’s to say you were going to want to be apart of his life if I told you? Like you said that night, we were 21, our careers taking off. I gave you the freedom you asked for.” You spoke.

“I messed up, okay? I knew that the second I woke up the next morning and you weren’t there next to me. It was stupid of me to even think that. We could’ve been regular 21 year-olds together.” Tom said. “But at the time, you meant it.” You said.

The silence that fell upon the two of you was awkward and uncomfortable. The only sound coming from the TV inside seeping through the cracked front door.

“I need to know him. I know I hurt you and it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. But I need to know my son, Y/N.” Tom begged.

You looked at the man in front of you and didn’t see who you were in a relationship with three years ago. Maybe because he’s had to grow up faster than the usual person. Or maybe because you had to grow up faster and raise a child.

“You can meet him. But we need to take this very slow. Theo is my entire world and I will not have him end up heartbroken like I was.” You finally spoke.

Tom’s eyes lit up at your words and he rapidly nodded his head. You slowly let him into the house, Theo entirely unaware that anything was happening.

“Hey, bud. There’s someone I want you to meet.” You said to the small boy. You sat down next to him, him taking the liberty of crawling onto your lap.

He stared at Tom warily, wondering why a stranger was in his house. He knew. that he was spider-man but to him spider-man was a stranger.

“Theo, you know how I told you that daddy was an astronaut exploring space?” You questioned. Theo nodded his head looking up at you. “Well, he’s back from space now. Theo, I want you to meet your dad.” You told him.

The brunette boy looked from you up to Tom. “My daddy’s spider-man?” Theo questioned. “Yes, your daddy is spider-man.” You confirmed. “That’s why he was in outer space! Helping Iron Man!” Theo shouted. “That’s right bud. I was gone for a while, but I’m here now.” Tom finally spoke.

Theo left your lap and launched himself at Tom. You didn’t know you would feel so emotional when Theo finally met Tom as his father. You just thought it wouldn’t be until he was older so you weren’t prepared for it.

“Are you staying, daddy?” Theo asked the man. Tom felt like all of the oxygen was knocked out of his body when Theo called him that.

He looked over at you and you reluctantly nodded your head. “Yeah, buddy. I’m staying.” He answered. Theo jumped up and down on the couch before you scolded him.

“Hey, hey, we don’t jump on couches anymore, remember? Besides, it’s past your bedtime.” You told him. “I wanna show daddy my room.” Theo. “He can put you to bed. Now go get your PJs.” You said.

Theo got off the couch and ran down the hallway towards his room. “He’s going to want to show you all of his Marvel stuff but only for five minutes. After that, tuck him in with his Black Panther stuffie. Then you have to read him a story or he’ll never fall asleep.” You explained to Tom as you stood up.

“You did a really good job with him.” Tom commented. “I know.” You smiled fondly. “I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me too.” He said. “You’ll sleep in the spare room. He wants you in his life so you have to be here. And tomorrow, we’ll go get Tessa.” You told him.

Tom smiled at you as you retreated to the kitchen to pick up a bit before bed. Tom walked down the hallway towards Theo’s room and found him all tucked in bed with various pieces fo Marvel collectibles.

“Daddy, daddy! Come look at the things mommy and Uncle Chwis got for me!” He said to Tom. Tom happily obliged and sat on the edge of the bed as Theo began to explain what everything was.

You leaned against the doorframe and observed the two together for a short while. You had a lot of healing to do with Tom but you couldn’t deny the fact that Theo needed his dad, despite Tom’s past mistakes.

#imagine #imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #peter parker imagine #peter parker #chris evans #marvel imagine #spiderman

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reluctant-mandalore · 3 years

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The Boba Fett Babysitting Archives: Interruptions

One of Boba Fett’s criminal meetings ends up interrupted by that of the child and a present he has for him.

Warnings: Fluff, family fluff, domestic fluff, uncle boba, canon-typical violence, the child is safe the entire time though dont worry, no reader, no romance, not beta read

Word Count: 1955

Pairing: No romantic pairing.

a/n: this is a few weeks late now lol I ended up falling into a bad mental rut, but thank you all for being so patient and supportive during this time! I appreciate it a lot. Now please enjoy some of Boba Fett babysitting our favourite little child!

The king of the crime world, Boba Fett, sat perched high upon his throne. His helmet glinting menacingly in the dim light, as he titled his gaze down to the cowering person sitting before him. The man’s pleading and begging bouncing throughout the large room, as he tried to reason with the Mandalorian. Though it didn’t seem like his plea for life was going to end in his favour.

The man’s terrified voice had grabbed the attention of all those in the area, and they watched in bated breaths as the scene continued to unfold before them. Some had felt pity for the man, shaking their heads at the sad display he was showing, their hearts sinking with the knowledge that this would not end well. Others took delight in his distress, their grins and mocking gazes drinking in the sight of him like it was the most humorous thing. Treating him as if he was just the newest entertainment to befall the legendary hunters wraith. Though who could really blame them for their cheer? Only a fool would betray Boba Fett after all, and a fool this man was indeed.

“You have a lot of nerve crossing me.” Boba had finally spoken to the man. His voice thick with fury and sounding stern with each word that left him. “It’s like you’re asking for me to kill you.”

“Fett please! I… I-It was a mistake!”

A huff of a laugh had left the bounty hunter at the man’s words, his amusement with the man dwindling more with each pitiful remark he had heard. “A mistake? That’s what you’re calling it? Running off with my credits was just a little old mistake, hm?”

“I… It was a poor taste of judgment!” The criminal had said, his voice wavering with each word that left his lips, “I never should have run off with your credits. I-I wasn’t thinking. Please forgive me! I’ll never do such a thing again—I swear on my life!”

Boba had appeared to tip his head in thought while looking at the groveling fool in front of him. The sight of which had brought the said man a small drop of hope, thinking that he would be spared the fearsome bounty hunters punishment. Although that glimmer of freedom he sought had died quickly at hearing the Mandalorian’s next words.

“You see the thing is… Nobody crosses me and gets to walk free.”

Fennec Shand—who had remained close to her bosses side—had brought up the blaster rifle in her hands properly as he finished speaking. The weapon now pointed to the man as she steadied herself behind the scope. The intention of her actions clear to all those around and causing for another brief silence to fall over the room. All eyes turning to watch the show that was about to reach its peak.

“Babaa!”

Everyone in the room had seemed to freeze at the sudden sound of a child's cheerful cry ringing out into the chamber. Even Fennec’s finger had twitched away from the trigger of the rifle—though her gaze never did remove itself from the scope—as everyone soon nervously watched the small green child enter into the room. Their breaths quickly catching in worry as the kid made their way to the throne where the one and only Boba Fett was still seated.

The small child had shuffled up to stand before the fearsome man. His little smile never leaving his features while under the man’s daunting gaze—a feat not even many hunters could handle themselves. The child had babbled some more, still much too young to form proper words or even be in this type of place, as the armored covered man appeared to take a great interest in the little creature. Everyone soon watching as the kid held out a piece of paper—a drawing—towards the famous bounty hunter.

Boba Fett had stared at the offering for a moment, titling his head again at the sight of it. He had stood soon after, taking the paper out from the little child’s hands and seeming to give it a look over. A quiet hum leaving him as he did, though his true thoughts had remained unknown, due to the helmet which shielded his features of view. The child only letting out a happy coo in reply as he continued to watch Fett with unbound excitement.

Meanwhile, everyone else had the same questions hanging in their minds. Who was this kid and why was he here? The child was as good as dead as far as many of them were concerned. Nobody approached the legendary hunter and just got to walk away. This was Fett they were dealing with after all.

“Well would you look at that!” Boba had suddenly exclaimed, shocking everyone at the cheerfulness they heard. His loud voice soon echoing around the room and causing a new cloud of confusion to fall over everyone in its space. He had turned to his companion, showing the picture to her as well, the grin he now wore evident in his words alone, “Fennec take a look at what ad’ika drew for me.”

The woman had finally shifted her gaze from the scope, leaning over slightly to look at the paper and allowing for her own grin to overtake her features, “Looks just like you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Boba had bent to pick up the child who had only continued to coo and babble happily up at him. He had walked down to the man kneeling at the bottom of his throne. Turning the paper to show him and holding it steadily to his view, as if he was waiting for the man to comment on it.

The paper in question had a brightly coloured drawing etched into its surface. A scribbled rendering of what appeared to be the bounty hunter holding hands with the child under a bright yellow sun. It was something typical of what you would expect a child to draw, but something unusual for a man such as Boba Fett to be excited about—or so everyone thought at least.

“Cute, ain’t it?” Boba had asked, his voicing shocking the man out of his confused daze all of a sudden. The bounty hunter's gaze hauntingly locked with the man’s own and striking another drop of fear into the criminal who still kneeled before him.

“Y-yes! Very cute!” The man had managed to let out in between shaking breaths. His reply quick and jumbled as he tried to calm his panicked heart, “Your child is quite the artist.”

“Oh he’s not mine.” Boba had replied nonchalantly while looking over the drawing once more, another pleased hum leaving him as he did, “Just babysitting for a friend.”

The bounty hunter had pinched the child’s cheeks lightly after his words. A rumbled chuckle leaving him as the child had let out another flurry of giggles at the ticklish gesture. Seeing the other hunter distracted, the man still kneeling had finally saw his chance for an escape. No one being none the wiser to the fact that he was now reaching for his blaster.

Boba Fett had caught the man’s movement though, his free hand quickly moving to pull out his own blaster before the man could completely remove his from its holster. Now pointing the weapon square with the man’s head, as his finger rested tauntingly over the trigger. It only would take one small pull to take the man's life. A simple movement and it all would be over.

“You’re a fool if you think you can pull a fast one on me.” Boba had spoken with a snarl, the child in his arms held closer into his chest and shielded away from any danger that the man below could cause. The child’s little eyes and large ears peeking up in interest, as he peered down at the once again quivering man from the safety of his caretaker’s hold.

“Now now Fett…” The criminal had smiled wearily up at the bounty hunter, nodding his head towards the child still sitting in the other man’s arms, “You don’t want to scare the kid or anything.”

Boba had merely shrugged, something which only caused more confusion among those in the room, the smirk the hunter wore evident in his voice as he spoke, “He’s seen worse.”

The blaster shot had fired quickly, the bright light shooting out and striking its target with pin-point precision. The man’s body had slumped over just as quickly and Boba had frowned beneath his armored layers. Turning to face where the shot had fired from, as the child had let out a shrill of coos and giggles from the excitement he had just witnessed.

“You’re always taking my fun away Fennec.”

The woman had only smirked at her boss and friend, setting the blaster rifle down in a more relaxed position, as she looked over them both. She had given a small wave with her hand to the child in his arms, before shrugging to the bounty hunter as she spoke, “Should have been quicker… besides you really shouldn’t be dragging this out in front of the kid.”

A sigh had left the bounty hunter, knowing that she was right, but not willing to admit such a thing. Finding himself wiggling his own fingers towards the little one still held tightly in his arms as a distraction. Murmured whispers of those in the room had soon broken out again, their stares now lingering over the child as they conversed about what had just happened and what it meant for them.

Hearing their questioning and feeling their gazes, Boba had found himself irritated, turning to let out a snarl from deep in his throat. Intent on making it clear of what exactly would happen if they dared to bring harm to the child with just his fury alone.

“What are you all staring at?” He had bellowed out, his voice echoing throughout the throne room and causing a new air of fright to settle among those who sat within its confines. Everyone’s gazes quickly snapping away at his question and going back to their own mumbled conversations. The child now dropped from their thoughts as they found themselves afraid of what the man would do to them if they dared to mention the kid again.

Boba had sat on his throne once more, though this time the child had been seated with him on his lap. Nobody questioned him on the child, nor did they even dare to look at them both sitting together. Barely giving another glance as the bounty hunter looked over the drawing again with the kid. Trying their best to drown out the sounds of the man’s surprisingly kind remarks and the little one’s giggles that could still be heard.

Some did think of how they could use this new information to their advantage. Wondering if they could use this newly discovered soft spot of the bounty hunter’s to achieve their goals. Although, those few individuals had soon watched their plans fall apart at the arrival of the child’s father later that day—another Mandalorian who seemed just as deadly as Fett.

Soon the appearance of the little green child would become the norm. His interruptions of the bounty hunters meetings a frequent, and almost joyful, occurrence for those of his court. It was strange of course, but it wasn't the weirdest thing any of the others in the palace had seen in their time around the Galaxy. Probably wasn’t the safest place for the small creature to be hanging around either. Then of course, it’s not like anyone would dare to do anything to the little green child anyway—only a fool would cross Boba Fett after all.

#the mandalorian #boba fett #baby yoda #The Boba Fett Babysitting Archives #grogu #the child #mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfic #my fics #no romantic pairing #no romance #no reader #just boba babysitting #fennec shand #she makes an appearance too #shes a cool aunt like that #fanfic

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nurvuss · 3 years

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I Watched the First Episode of Every New Spring 2021 Anime Airing on Crunchyroll

Hey, are you like me, and feeling like you're not getting the most out of your Crunchyroll subscription? Sure, there's stuff on there that you know you like. But whenever I look at the big long list of simulcasting shows, my eyes glaze over and I don't even know where to begin.

I wanted to change my habits and see if there were any shining gems that I should be watching. So, as per the title, I watched the first episode of every new Spring 2021 anime on Crunchyroll. And guess what? There’s a lot of crap! But indeed, there’s some stuff that’s worth your time.

Some clarification: I've only watched shows that began their first season in April 2021.

Backflip!!

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The Lowdown

As Futaba Shotaro comes to the end of middle school, his interest in baseball has begun to wane. Soon he notices the Ao High Boys Gymnastic Club and becomes enthralled, especially after seeing them perform. Once he learns they're down two members, he chooses to sign up and pursue the art of gymnastics. The club is also joined by Misato Ryoya, a star solo gymnast looking to expand his technique through teamwork.

Our Thoughts

Pretty formulaic shoujo sports anime: you've got your himbo, your thug, your ladies' man, your stoic guy, with Shotaro rounding out the cast as the shy and awkward audience surrogate. It looks wholesome enough, and the choreographed routines employ CG in a way that's quite convincing without being hideous.

Who It's For

Fans of FREE, or Yuri!!! on Ice, or any similar shows about cute boys who succeed at athletic feats.

Borscht Rating

Burning Kabaddi

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The Lowdown

Legendary high school soccer star Yoigoshi Tatsuya has given up on sports! That is, until he's blackmailed to join the high school kabaddi team, under threat of his online persona being leaked to the entire school. Although Tatsuya initially writes kabaddi off as stupid, the unexpected happens as he begins to have fun.

Our Thoughts

Kabaddi is kinda like competitive tag, or dodgeball but with your body instead of a ball. Burning Kabaddi is basically the shounen alternative to Backflip!! above, replete with nosebleeds, pratfalls, and dudes punching each other. The main cast don't seem to like each other very much; that probably changes as the show goes on but at first blush it's a dynamic I always find annoying.

Who it's For

Fans of Haikyuu!!? Maybe?

Borscht Rating

CARDFIGHT!! VANGUARD overDress

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The Lowdown

The newest series based on Bushiroad's collectible card game, featuring character designs by the beloved collective CLAMP. Petit middle schooler Yu-Yu just doesn't know how to say no. As his older students dress him in drag to use as live makeup practice, he suffers a panic attack and flees into the streets. After being accosted by a pickup artist, he's befriended by Megumi, who invites him to witness a Cardfight match at the local abandoned amusement park. However, Yu-yu is too shy to tell Megumi he's actually a boy…

Our Thoughts

What an unexpectedly weird concept for a show about a card game. Our hero spends the whole episode in drag, whimpering and simpering at the sight of any conflict. Then they show off the latest series of cards, which all seem to be giant buff knights with names like "Bad Steve" and "Violent Bruce". Your guess is as good as mine.

Who it's For

Cardfight!! lovers, Japanese gender studies majors, or the most desperate fujoshi.

Borscht Rating

Cestvs: The Roman Fighter

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The Lowdown

The year is 54AD, and Nero has taken the throne as the youngest emperor of Rome. At the bottom of the population, Cestvs is a young slave training to be a colosseum boxer. Reluctant, his only choice is to fight or die.

Our Thoughts

Seeing Nero depicted as a gentle little twink is pretty funny. It's also pretty funny that the central character is named after a Roman boxing glove. The animation style transitions to some very uncanny CG when a major fight takes place, and I didn't like that one bit! This seems like a pretty average tournament anime but with a historical setting. It's currently unknown if any of these dudes are fucking each other. I'm gonna say probably.

Who It's For

The venn-diagram of Greco-Roman history buffs and lovers of tournament series?

Borscht Rating

Don’t Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro!

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The Lowdown:

Hachioji Naoto is a nerdy, introverted student who spends his time studying and avoiding socialising. When pages from the fantasy manga he's drawing fall out of his bookbag, they catch the attention of a younger student named Nagatoro Hayase. Nagatoro begins to tease Naoto for his otaku interests and awkward demeanour, peppered with some suggestive flirting.

Our Thoughts:

What would you do if a younger girl flirted with you? Would you cry? Piss your pants maybe? Maybe shit and cum? Don't Toy With Me… attempts to barely conceal its BDSM fantasy with its comedic elements, but it's incredibly apparent as Nagatoro always wipes away Naoto's tears as a sort of aftercare. It's like a lighter, comedic version of Aku no Hana, but lacking any of the ponderings or danger that made that work so special.

Who It's For:

People who search Pornhub for "bratty sister femdom".

Borscht Rating:

86 Eighty-Six

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The Lowdown

The Republic of San Magnolia and the Giad Empire, have been at war for nearly a decade. Using advanced military technology, the frontlines are fought by giant mecha drones called Juggernauts, controlled remotely by Handlers. Major Vladilena Mirizé is one of the military's most talented Handlers in the 1st District, and one who is constantly teased by her peers for the humanity and empathy she shows her squadron. The government line is that drone warfare has kept casualties to zero, but unbeknownst to the public these "drones'' are piloted by 86ers—the lowest class of citizens, forced to live in military internment camps in San Magnolia's 86th District.

Our Thoughts

This is incredibly my kind of thing. We've got a dual narrative being set up here: Vladilena as the kind, reluctant officer of a fascist regime, and the Bad Company-esque antics of her new ragtag squad, Spearhead. The first episode is split pretty evenly between the two, with each story converging at the end as Vladilena "meets" Spearhead for the first time through her comms station. It's an explosive and enticing first episode, and I can't wait to watch more of it.

Who It's For

Fans of Fullmetal Alchemist, Psycho-Pass, Gundam, or any number of anti-imperialist war stories.

Borscht Rating

Fairy Ranmaru

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The Lowdown

In a quiet corner of the city sits Bar F, a modest drinking establishment staffed entirely by five hot young men. Unbeknownst to the general population, these men are a crack team of fairies sent to the human world to gather the latent energy of "attachment". They do this by solving the problems of young women, taking their hearts in the process.

Our Thoughts

Hubba hubba, a little something for the ladies! It's Weiẞ Kreuz with a bar instead of a flower shop, fairies instead of assassins, and some pretty revealing outfits. There's definitely a little Persona 5 inspiration here too, from the punctuating phrase "Take your Heart!" to many of the visual cues. Make of that what you will.

Who It's For

Fans of Weiẞ Kreuz, slash fic authors.

Borscht Rating

Farewell, My Dear Cramer

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The Lowdown

Onda Nozomi was once the star player of her middle school football team. Completely unmatched, she no longer plays as there's no opponent she deems to be on her level. Meanwhile Suou Sumire far outpaces her teammates, causing her frustration. By a twist of fate, these two girls find themselves joining the scrappy Warabi Seinan High School FC as they begin to learn the value of teamwork and friendship.

Our Thoughts

I don't know sports. And I really don't know football. I had to look up what the title meant, and now I barely know who Dettmar Cramer is. I'm really not the best person to judge this, but it seems like a pretty good female-driven sports anime.

Who It's For

Fans of Ace o Nerae! or other sports manga/anime about those ever burning bonds between young teammates.

Borscht Rating

Gloomy, the Naughty Grizzly

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The Lowdown:

Pitty lives with his pet Gloomy, a massive pink bear. Can a boy and a bear truly get along?

Our Thoughts:

This is a series of minute-long gag episodes in which Gloomy mauls Pitty and blood squirts everywhere. It's definitely meant to be a morbid parody of Sanrio or San-X; it might be a Rilakkuma parody in particular? Gloomy is the kind of thing you might laugh at if it came on in between shows, but it's pretty slight to go through the trouble of putting on.

Who It's For:

Gag anime fans with one minute to spare.

Borscht Rating:

Higehiro: After Being Rejected, I Shaved and Took in a High School Runaway

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The Lowdown

After a night of drinking in Tokyo, slovenly salaryman Yoshida encounters a teenage runaway sitting under a lamppost. She offers to sleep with him in return for letting her spend the night in his apartment. Yoshida refuses her offer but allows her to stay. The next morning the girl, Sayu, reveals she's travelled all the way from Hokkaido, sleeping with random men in return for lodging and money. Feeling responsible for her safety, Yoshida agrees for Sayu to stay indefinitely in return for handling household chores.

Our Thoughts

This is kind of the inverse of Koikimo (see below), but without a scumbag character and from a male perspective. It's not nearly as nauseating as that show, but it's still a fantasy about living with a busty teenage girl.

Who It's For

Libertarians.

Borscht Rating

I've Been Killing Slimes For 300 Years And Maxed Out My Level

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The Lowdown:

Office lady Aizawa Azusa dies of overwork in her early 20s, and finds herself standing before a lecherous goddess. Allowed a wish as compensation for her untimely demise, Azusa wishes for an endless life of leisure. The goddess reincarnates her as a 17-year-old immortal witch in an RPG-coded fantasy world. Thrilled, Azusa lazes about, brewing potions for her neighbouring villagers, and kills a small amount of slimes each day to supplement her income. After doing this every day for 300 years, she inadvertently finds herself at Level 99. Her peaceful life is soon upended as adventurers and dragons come from miles around to challenge the legendary witch.

Our Thoughts:

I'm not really an isekai fan, and that goes double for series which aren't set in an RPG, yet use RPG mechanics. Levelling up, grinding stats, min-maxing, as if it's a part of the fabric of the setting. I don't get it. I like watching numbers go up as much as the next dork, but I don't need to watch numbers go up in absolutely every piece of media I consume. Just play a fucking video game, Jesus Christ almighty.

I thought this might be setting up a fun series in which a layabout is reluctantly called upon to undertake a dangerous quest, but I don't think that's what's going on at all. When the red dragon Laika wrecks Azusa's house, she transforms into a cute young girl and the two begin living together, teaching each other the pros and cons of hard work and slothfulness respectively. The trajectory of the series might be as laid back as its protagonist in the end, which, ultimately, would be fitting.

Who It's For:

Isekai fans, slice-of-life fans. The twain have met!

Borscht Rating:

Joran: The Princess of Snow and Blood

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The Lowdown

In alternative history Japan the Meiji Period continued well into the 1930s, and the ongoing Tokugawa Shogunate has brought technological prosperity to the nation through a magical energy source called the Dragon's Vein. Sawa Yukimura runs a bookshop where she lives with her little sister by day, but by night she's an assassin for Nue, the shogunate's secret police. As the terrorist group Kuchinawa deploys transforming beasts in an attempt to topple the shogunate, Nue springs into action with their own abilities.

Our Thoughts

There are a lot of concepts competing here, and a few too many flashy transformation sequences for my taste, but I'm really into it! Nue are made up of sex workers and street musicians, often overlooked and therefore easily able to blend in. There's a supernatural Standalone Complex vibe to how the team operates, and they're almost assuredly on the wrong side. Worth a shot!

Who It's For

Fans of alternate history science fiction, Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex, Demon Slayer.

Borscht Rating

Koikimo: Koi to Yobu ni wa Kimochi Warui ("It's Disgusting to Call This Love")

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The Lowdown

Amakusa Ryo is a womanizing salaryman concerned with nothing but his own base desires. As he slips on the train station stairs one morning, he's saved by the swift action of Arima Ichika, a kind-hearted high schooler. When it turns out Ichika is friends with Ryo's younger sister Riou, he decides she's his soulmate, and begins to pursue her no matter how many times she refuses him. Comedy ensues!

Our Thoughts

Yeah, OK groomer.

Alright look, Korikimo is written by a woman and told from Ichika's perspective, so this is obviously meant to be a lighthearted "older man" shoujou romance. As an older man, all I saw were the adventures of a paedophile and the teenager he's stalking. Fuck off.

Who it's For

There's probably other stuff like this, right? If you like that, here you go.

Borscht Rating

Let's Make a Mug, Too

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The Lowdown

After the death of her mother, Himeno and her father relocate from bustling Tokyo to quiet Tajimi City in Gifu Prefecture. The former salaryman opens a quiet cafe using the remarkable mugs made by his late wife, while Himeno follows in her mother's footsteps and joins the school pottery club. Although her first project ends in disaster, Himeno makes fast friends with the eccentric pottery enthusiasts who make up the club.

Our Thoughts

It's no Eizouken, but I guess it's probably not meant to be. I'm not a big iyashikei genre fan, but if that's your thing, you might enjoy the wholesome non-adventures of three girls trying to make a mug. It's worth noting these episodes are only about 12 minutes long, with the remaining runtime segmented into live action episodes where the voice actresses tour Tajimi and unconvincingly pretend to be interested in Gifu's famous mino-yaki pottery. I think this must be a tie-in with a local tourist board.

Who It's For

People who enjoy stuff like Aria, actually.

Borscht Rating

OddTaxi

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The Lowdown

In a Tokyo populated by anthropomorphic animals, a solemn walrus named Odokawa spends his nights driving his cab around the bustling metropolis, spending his free time drinking with his pals. Odokawa soon finds his quiet life disrupted by a caper involving a missing girl, some crooked cops, and the animal yakuza.

Our Thoughts

A deft blend of working class slice-of-life with mystery, cute animals, and striking visual design. OddTaxi might be the sleeper hit of Spring 2021.

Who It's For

Fans of existentialist film noir with absurdist comedy, Polar Bear Cafe, walrus lovers.

Borscht Rating

Osamake: Romcom Where The Childhood Friend Won't Lose

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The Lowdown

Suehiro Maruo Sueharu Maru has his heart set on Shirokusa Kachi, the hottest girl in school. When she begins dating a young actor, Sueharu confides in his childhood friend Kuroha Shida, who's openly in love with him and he rejected in the past. Kuroha suggests the two get revenge on Shirokusa by pretending to be in love. Will Sueharu fall in love with Kuroha for real, making her dreams come true?

Our Thoughts

Give me a fucking break.

Who It's For

I don't know and I don't care.

Borscht Rating

SD Gundam World Heroes

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The Lowdown

The newest instalment of the SD Gundam media-mix franchise. In a world populated by super deform mecha, a burning meteor lands in the middle of Captain City. From it launches a terrible mechanized beast: Naughty Lion. When the police are powerless to stop it, a crack team led by Zhuge Liang Gundam and Liu Bei Gundam sorties to bring Naughty Lion to justice. When the beast stops rampaging, it transforms into Sun Wukong Gundam, a youthful amnesiac mecha horrified at the destruction he wrought. The Three Kingdoms Gundams welcome Sun Wukong into the fold to make sense of this mysterious event.

Our Thoughts

I'm an 80s kid, I know a 30-minute toy commercial when I see one.

No, seriously though, I'm aware of SD Gundam's merchandising—they're cute designs, and I even used to have a bunch of the gum rubber mini figurines. I've played the SD Great War Super Famicom games, they're fun! This is a vehicle to get kids hyped up about the latest toys, which are...based on a hodgepodge of Journey to the West and Romance of the Three Kingdoms this year? There's even a little SD Guan Yu Gundam with a big long beard!

I kinda wanted to like the idea of a bearded robot, but the mechas are super busy and overdesigned. I guess there's only so much you can do to make your next series of toys bigger and better, so these guys are all decked out in gold accents, capes, horns, and antlers, and half the time I couldn't parse what I was seeing.

I'm so glad I don't have to watch any more of this.

Who It's For

Very, *very* young mecha fans.

Borscht Rating

Seven Knights Revolution: Hero Successor

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The Lowdown

Long ago, the Dark God Nestra ruled the world through fear. Standing against him were the Seven Knights, seven brave warriors chosen by the Light Goddess Serrass. With their powers combined, Nestra was defeated and the lands returned to peace. Hundreds of years later the wicked Physis Cult seeks to revive Nestra, summoning undead beasts to ravage the countryside. With the Seven Knights long dead, the Granseed Academy has risen to train the next wave of heroes to combat this threat. Using special cards, the students of Granseed are able to call upon the power of the Seven Knights to guide them in battle.

Our Thoughts

As soon as the opening started with its transforming heroes and lovingly depicted weapon cards, I realised this must be based on a mobile game. Indeed, this is based on a free-to-play gacha from Korean developer Netmarble. Even before I was able to confirm this, Hero Successor failed to draw me in, eschewing details on the nature of its world in lieu of a glamourised marketing push for its source material. What's here is incredibly slight, and likely to be of little interest to anyone who isn't deep into this game.

Who It's For

Seven Knights whales, I guess.

Borscht Rating

Those Snow White Notes

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The Lowdown

Sawamura Setsu mourns the death of his grandfather Matsugorou, a talented shamisen player who refused to pass his secrets on. Not knowing what else to do, he leaves his remote village for Tokyo, taking nothing but his shamisen along with him. Soon he finds himself wrapped up in the complicated life of aspiring actress Yuna and her scuzzy rockstar boyfriend Taketo. When Setsu opens for Taketo's band, he stuns the audience with the raw emotion of his playing. However, his heart is still tumultuous.

Our Thoughts

An entertaining first episode of a speciality music series, which is the kind of thing I have a place in my heart for. I couldn't shake the feeling of some latent misogyny that suggested the role of a woman is to inspire a tortured artist, but I might be wrong. The final few minutes take a twist by introducing Setsu's weird, horny mother who seems to have her own personal SWAT team, and it looks like the series becomes a more conventional high school anime from episode 2 onwards. Don't know about that!

Who It's For

Fans of Kids on the Slope, Sound of the Sky.

Borscht Rating

Tokyo Revengers

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The Lowdown

Former delinquent Takemichi is unsatisfied with the way his life turned out, living alone in a paper-thin apartment and working a minimum wage job under a boss who doesn't respect him. When watching the news one evening, he learns that his highschool sweetheart Hinata was killed, alongside her little brother. On the way to work the next morning, Takemichi falls in front of an oncoming train and wakes up 12 years in the past. Armed with foreknowledge, he attempts to turn his life around and save his onetime lover.

Our Thoughts

This is drawing from a lot of sources; the whole train sequence is lifted straight from Gantz, while the story itself initially seems like a Life on Mars kind of deal. In fact, Tokyo Revengers sees Takemichi jump back and forth between the present and the past, seemingly making small changes until he achieves his desired outcome. It feels like a very video gamey depiction of time travel, and one that's not super interesting.

Who It's For

Steins;Gate fans, maybe? Delinquent manga (Shonan Junai Gumi, Crows, etc.) fans, maybe? It's pretty self-serious compared to any of those.

Borscht Rating

To Your Eternity

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The Lowdown

An immortal being in the form of an orb falls to earth and becomes a stone. Years pass, an ice age sets in, and a white wolf stumbles onto the tundra and dies. The orb, able to take the form of anything that leaves a strong impression on it, transforms into the wolf and slowly learns how to use its newfound ambulatory body. The creature treks back through the tundra where it meets a boy living alone, after the rest of his village left in search of a better life. The boy recognises the wolf as his beloved pet, Johann, and the two begin living together in the harsh, lonely wastes.

Our Thoughts

I'm being a little coy with the synopsis here, and there's a major shake-up at the end of this debut episode. This one's based on a manga by the critically acclaimed Yoshitoki Ooima (A Silent Voice), and it's a depressing, compelling, and exciting start to a series. Lots of potential here!

Who It's For

Fans of NieR, Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon, Last Exile, Kino's Journey.

Borscht Rating

So, there you have it. I'm hoping this will be of use to anyone who experiences a similar sense of dread when faced with so many choices. Maybe we’ll do this again during the Summer 2021 anime season.

Also, please don't get mad at me if I'm snarky about your new favourite show! It’s just TV and I'm a big idiot anyway.

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rabbithub · 3 years

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Haunted Painting!AU: Day 3

(In this episode of Haunted Paintings and How to Survive Them: There are fucking animals everywhere-

Also this is segregated from Death Palette's three lives rule, so the artist can take a bit more burnout. (we hope.))

You don't speak for a moment. You half expected to probably be crucified upside down at calling the subject of the painting 'Diavolo', but he seemed to take to it well. "You are not a sociable person." He says, grinning with amusement.

"...I haven't been for a while." You point out, refraining from snapping. "Long story."

"If you are unable to keep a acceptable conversation, then perhaps painting me a companion will suffice." 'Diavolo' answers back. "Preferably one similar in color to my waistcoat."

An animal with black fur. Seems pretty easy enough. You feel your phone vibrate, but you are more focused on finding that cat. You find it staring up the tree, and sketch it before it runs off. You also notice a bird in the tree, and sketch that as well.

As you walk around, you notice a door that your never seen before. You open it to be met face to face with a horse. 'Of course.' you tell yourself. 'There would be a horse here. Nothing makes goddamn sense in this place.' You sketch the horse, and notice a empty birdcage farther along the room. "Sorry, big guy- just gonna-" You scoot past the horse to sketch the birdcage, then scoot out of the room. 'Well, I know what I'm not painting.' You tell yourself as your the door. 'How the hell would a horse fit inside a room?!'

You sigh, but see a rabbit sleeping in a tree and a dog waiting below it. You quickly sketch those in as well. You finally check your phone.

[Buyer][Day 3]

'Look, I might have not be a good artist, but your attitude is just as bad! So what if that dog started biting you?! I had nothing to do with it!'

'Geez, you even got mad when I painted a birdcage before a bird!'

'Fuck- my chest... I still remember my first cat... Maybe...'

[Owner][Day 3]

'So, the animals move within the painting! I can use this to get the dove into the birdcage!'

[Buyer][Day 3]

'I tried with the dog again, but it ate the rabbit I painted! I'm sorry, tough guy... I didn't think it would hurt the rabbit-'

'Hang on- if you spare me, I'll introduce you to someone- they're going through a lot right now and tend to be gloomy, but they have a small following and know their stuff! They'll paint you any way you like! Just let me go, pleas'

[Researcher][Day 3]

'While the painting's true title is unknown, it has the common title of "The Noble with the Black Rose". There are many paintings that use the same model, and were painted in the first half of the twentieth century- so a common theory is that they were painted by a collective of artists in the same time period, and well known portraitists as well, meaning they were commissioned fairly well by a wealthy patron.'

'Many of these portraits exist in modern days, and there are art collectors dedicated to completing this series. I have visited such a collector with similar portraits; matching all the features of this mysterious young man down to the colors of his clothing. However, the identity of the young man is still unknown.'

"Note to self: when I get back home unscathed, check if she's alive, take her out to drinks, and then punch her dead in the face." You tell yourself, regarding your possibly late dealer friend. You also notice a dog sitting by you and you quickly sketch it.

'He doesn't like dogs, if I remember what she mumbled about, and no way in hell I'm painting a horse in that room.' You muse, stepping to the canvas. "Be patient with me today." You say, keeping your tone even. "I can assure you're not getting a dog or a goddamn horse."

'Diavolo' cocks his head at the horse quip, but ignores it. Your soul alights your brush, and you paint a black bird- however, it turns white. You stared at the canvas, both worried and confused. "It turned white again?" 'Diavolo' asks, perplexed.

'While I want to paint the cat, it will eat the... dove?' You muse. 'I'll paint the birdcage first.' Your soul turns a gold color, and you paint a birdcage in the corner of the room. "...A cage?" He asks again, this time seemingly seeing what you were doing.

"Trust me." You say, your body trembling as your soul burns black. You paint a regal looking black cat, and you watch the dove fly into the birdcage, with the cage door closing behind it. The cat looked unimpressed at this. You lean against canvas, tired.

"...You look tired." 'Diavolo' notes, a faint tone of concern in his voice.

"... I'm- I'm okay." You answer, pulling yourself up. You manage to paint a black rabbit on his lap. It promptly falls asleep, tooth-purring as it did so.

"It's a bit large, but I'll overlook that." 'Diavolo' answers, looking at it. The cat ignores the sleeping rabbit, fortunately. You sigh, tired. "I'll at least have some company to pass the time."

"....I'- It's still raining." You note, trembling.

"It must be your gloomy nature bringing it." 'Diavolo' sighs. "...Replace the cover. You need to rest. You're about to keel over." You silently obey, stumbling into your room. You flop onto the bed, falling asleep.

"Oh! These are beautiful." Your sister says, her eyes bright.

"I've been practicing with animal portraits lately." You say, proud. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty great- they'll send me home tomorrow at the earliest." Your sister answers. "Although, I really wish he wouldn't have...." You realize who she was talking about.

"I talked to security about that." You say. "They'll keep an eye out for him, and make sure he doesn't come in anymore. He won't hurt you anymore."

"Thank you." Your sister says, smiling. "You really look after me, and I'm really grateful for it."

You wake up to your phone buzzing and the sound of rain and thunder. You idly look over the messages on your phone.

[Researcher][Day 3]

'Now the question remains, why is this piece alone cursed? None of the other paintings of 'The Noble with the Black Rose' have this curse- so it must have to do with the painter of this piece.'

'Despite it bearing no signature, I was able to gain some information from the gallery's owner, a sculptor, and the painter's landlord. Ah- it must be +$?8282)+@+... She's been long passed away. It's been guessed the landlord was the first victim.'

'A theory could be that something dreadful happened between the model and the painter, this being the last painting in a series. The boy disappeared from history, as no one knows of him. His enmity must have entered the painting and cursed it. After that, he proceeded to ki...'

You stand up, opening the door. You uncover the painting, noticing 'Diavolo' lying in a bed. "...am I disturbing you?"

"No." 'Diavolo' answers, speaking softly. "The animals you painted vanished. Would you disappear as well?"

"I hope not." You answer. "I'll finish you first, then I'll go home. Where would you be if I did that?"

"A fair point." 'Diavolo' chuckles. "I was thinking- if we were to play a game, would you indulge a final chance for yourself?"

"...a game?" You expected something like that. "I guess if I lose, I die."

"However, if you manage to win by some fluke, I'll let you use those steps." 'Diavolo' points to a set of disordered steps. "...if you win, of course."

#jjba diavolo #jjba part 5 #jjba #Diavolo #death Palette #matsuro palette #haunted painting!au

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 3 years

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Unreleased songs - ɟ

Hi, babies 👋🏼. Long time no see 😂 As I said I would, ta-daah!

So, honeys, today’s topic is about unreleased songs as the title of the post suggests, but that’s not what you think. Let me explain. For years I’ve been investigating the world of celebrities, the world of Hollywood, and the more time passes, the more things I’m able to discover, even if ‘slowly’ because I work. As I mentioned in the ‘Award shows’ post, thanks to the time I still have for a while because I’m on vacation for a few more days, I finally had time to find out some information about ‘who?’, ‘how?’, and ‘why?’ we’re getting blessed with so many unreleased songs. I haven’t found an answer to everything yet, but I’m working on it. For now, I’ll tell you what I know and my theories. If any of you know anything more, please, PLEASE DM me: @fa-by.

Let’s go in order. ‘Who?’:

I think that like me, many of you have always wondered ‘Who’s leaking all these songs? Is it a hacker? Is it the artist’s management? Is it the artist themself?’. The answer to these questions is unfortunately still only what I think. For me, it’s the artist’s label. Labels are usually the ones that own the master recording copyrights. [If you want to know more about the subject, I wrote a post about it: ‘How the music world works’. If you’re interested, Mari did this very cool thing for me. All you have to do is click on the #f anon on her blog to see all my posts (I know I sounded like a grandma, but I said it’s cool because I didn’t know it could be done. I’m pretty good with tech in general, but I’m still pretty new to the Tumblr world, okay? Don’t make fun of me 🤓🤣)]

As I also explained in that post, a recording agreement states that the label becomes the owner of all the master recordings recorded by the artist during the period of the agreement. And yes, this also includes unreleased recordings. And that’s why I’m very convinced that it’s the label. Labels are at the tip of the pyramid, and they are the ones who make every decision about their artists. Managements, agents, publicists, etc., only execute directives. So I think they’re the ones leaking those songs through their own IT departments.

It also depends on the cases and why, but sometimes instead, they even paid someone outside, hackers or ordinary people, to do it. The same methods they used to ‘hack’ and spread even false personal data and information about their artists. The reasons vary of course. They may have leaked a song because their artist hadn’t released something in a while and to keep fans engaged. They may have done it to see the fans’ response to that genre of song and if they’ve vibed with it to be able to choose the kind of direction for their artist to take for the new album and next single. They may have done so with a song they knew they were going to officially release just to get more attention on the song itself (example: ‘Love Incredible’ and ‘First Man’). They may have done it simply for publicity and to get people talking about their artist. Really, they may have done so for all sorts of reasons.

This, however, happened mostly in the past. Now, based on what I’ve discovered, I’ve realized that there’s also another reason why they do it. And this reason, leads us to the next question: ‘How?’

I’ve already anticipated how they did in the past and sometimes still do. By using their IT departments or by paying someone outside to do it for them. But I haven’t yet explained how they do it now, which leads to my discovery.

*Little story for you first*🙃 (#donthateme)

I was simply scrolling to see what new music was released and if there was any interesting news. The typical “I was minding my own business when”, you know? Well, that’s how I came across ‘Party Animal’.

I can literally picture you saying to me: “But, Faby, Party Animal is an old song!”. Yes, it is. Party Animal is a 2017 song sung by Charly Black & Luis Fonsi. But did you know that a remix with Camila on it should have been released and that it got scrapped?? 🤯🤯🤯🤯 That’s what I came across! In the snippet to be more precise. I knew the remix existed [I also talked about it in one of my last posts to reply to an Anon], but I’d never listened to its snippet, so imagine my surprise when I found it in front of me out of nowhere! And they even created a mashup between her snippet and the original song to see how the remix would’ve turned out to be. I’m gonna put a piece of the mashup with Camila’s snippet at the end of the post for you to listen to.

Party Animal brought me to the snippets of ‘It’s Only Natural’ ft. Skrillex, the original demo of ‘Sangria Wine’ which together with Pharrell, was initially also supposed to have J Balvin and Young Thug on it, ‘Pretending’ by Lauren, and many others that I didn’t yet know existed, including those I knew about and that I listened to again, like for example the first version of ‘Havana’, that is the first real original demo with Starrah, or ‘Who Can I Run To’ by 5H, or ‘If It Ain’t Me’ by Dua Lipa ft. Normani (leaked unreleased song, recorded for Dua’s Future Nostalgia album), etc., etc.

What happened then? Thanks to those snippets and to the re-listening of all the ones I already knew, I resumed investigating as I’d already started doing this summer, and I finally discovered this:

*end of the little story*

There are sites. Hackers sites that sell these songs. Yes, you read that correctly. SELL. These sites sell unreleased and exclusive music from any artist. From top A singers to less famous and unknown singers. Anyone can register and anyone can buy the songs. Sounds too good to be true, right? Well, if you’re lucky enough to have A LOT of money to throw around, then those sites are for you. These sites are not cheap. Some of them charge you money even when you just register.

Do you want examples to better understand? Okay, let’s talk about our Camren.

Remember when I submitted the post with Lauren’s ‘Inside’ studio version on December 17th? Remember how many of you felt guilty to listen to it even though you were happy to do it and even though I told you that Lauren herself said it wouldn’t be on the album? Well, do you wanna know the real reason we got this leaked? Because a Camila fan BOUGHT it from one of those websites and released it as a ‘Christmas gift’ for all of us!

Do you know how on July 21 we had ‘Curious’, ‘Cleopatra’, and ‘Unforgettable’? How on August 22 we had ‘Just Like You’ ft. Jack Ü? How on September 3 we had ‘Come When I Call’ ft. Pharrell Williams, ‘Taxi’, and ‘Eyes on You’? And how the next day, the 4th, we had ‘Terrified’? The only reason we’ve been blessed with all of these unreleased songs by Camila, is because people BOUGHT them from those sites exactly as it happened with Inside!

We’re about to be fed with a lot more, guys. You see, this is another thing I discovered. These websites [I only know of four at the moment, and honestly? It was pretty easy to find them, so it won’t be a problem for you either. But please, please, please guys, don’t ask me to tell you the sites here publicly because I won’t. I don’t want any problems.], these hackers, sometimes release snippets for free to spark buyer interest. These snippets then end up on the internet, and that’s how we ‘mere mortals’ also learn about the existence and titles of songs discarded from albums. But most of the time, even the snippets have to be bought because they’re about highly desired songs. This happens because, for example, maybe an artist has mentioned them in an interview and therefore fans want them.

I’ll give you a practical example. Remember when Camila talked about The Boy? We obviously all freaked out because not only was it a song written by Ed Sheeran that she rewrote almost completely, but mostly because we WANTED and WANT to hear it. Same thing that happened with God Is a Woman. So what did the hackers do? They put the snippets up for sale because they were both very requested songs. Once the snippets were sold and spread well, they put the songs up for sale in full. And do you wanna know how much The Boy is on sale? $3,000 on one unreleased selling site, and $3,500 on another one [Prices I read from the comments of some accounts that are registered on those sites]. I wasn’t kidding when I said they aren’t cheap… Although there are songs that cost less, such as ‘Thinkin Bout One’ (song discarded from the album ‘Camila’) which is currently on sale for $300. Still waaay too much and pretty over the top for my ass.

If you happen to see snippets of Camren’s unreleased songs or 5H’s around, it’s only thanks and because these websites are selling them. Unfortunately, there’s no possibility of having them in full unless someone pays for them first.

And all this leads us to the last question: ‘Why?’

Why? Very simple answer: for money. As I said I explained in my ‘How the music world works’ post [and I’m truly sorry to bring this up again, but it really makes sense with what I’m saying and if you don’t understand what I’m talking about now, then I suggest you go read that first and then come back here], labels buy some songs for the album from authors and ghostwriters, and invest on the artist by giving them an advance to make that album. This advance is mainly reserved to pay for the recording of the album, and this means paying for the recording costs, which includes the payment of A LOT of other things that I explained there. What interests us in this case, is that the recording costs also include all those songs that were later discarded from an album.

The labels paid to have the artist do those songs, and since they weren’t released, they didn’t make any money off those songs. Neither the labels nor the artists who recorded them. Or rather, the labels have certainly regained the money invested to make them thanks to the recoupment of the recording costs. Either immediately, or in any case later thanks to cross-collateralization. But the artist? They just lost money, and they both earned no royalties or licenses precisely because those songs were never released.

So what did they come up with to make money on those songs too? They put them up for sale. Theory’s time: In my opinion, labels use hackers because they know how not to be tracked. Think about it.

I’ll give you an example. If you were to create a site, would you know how to protect it? Would you know what data is coming in and out of your website? Would you know which functions are constantly running and which are not? Would you know which programs transmit data externally and which ones don’t? Would you know which programs are suspicious? Would you know to create alternative algorithms, security plugins, and serious firewalls that prevent unauthorized access? I could go on all day, but if your answer is no, then I guess you get my point.

They use external hackers. People outside their IT departments in such a way as not to create any kind of connection between them. They use them as they would use publishers, distributors, and collection agencies with an officially released song all at once. It’s a give-and-take. The hackers take the necessary security measures and create the sites, the labels pass the unreleased songs to them, and the hackers put them up for sale. Once sold, the hackers get their share and the labels get the biggest percentage. It’s actually brilliant if you think about it.

Now let’s move on to the last small part of this post.

Do the artists know that their unreleased songs are for sale? I think they really do. And I’ll tell you more. I think they have deals with their own label to get their share of sales as well. I believe that they’re also themselves (with label approval of course) who choose which one to put up for sale and which one to keep to use in the future, whether it’s for an album or simply to take and use part of the lyrics from that song for a new one.

And then, think about it for a moment. Do you really believe that if someone else had ‘stolen’ them and put them up for sale, the labels wouldn’t have noticed? That they wouldn’t immediately have shut down their sites and take action since it’s not a single song? And I’m also talking about legal measures that they would have taken together with the authors of those songs since they, the labels, are the owners of the master recording copyrights, and the authors are the owners of the composition copyrights. Come on, my friends. Do you have any idea how powerful major labels are? But anyway.

Do I think we have a problem? Do I think all of this could lead to problems for the girls for their future sales? Nope. I honestly think this is just more publicity for them. I think thanks to these songs, people/fans can even more and really see how talented they are, especially in lyrics. Lauren for example, who still hasn’t graced us with her album. These songs are like appetizers while waiting for the main course: LJ1.

And now I’m really done 😄 I remind you that all these unreleased songs for sale are scraps of their albums, scraps of remixes and collaborations, and scraps in general, so they’re not really harming them by selling them. Don’t let yourself get unnecessary heart attacks, please🤣

If you have any questions, as usual, all you have to do is ask. I send you lots of love with virtual hugs 🤗 Stay safe. Stay patient. Be kind to yourself and others. I love you, babies. As usual, always with love, F ❤️

As promised, this is the mashup piece with Camila’s snippet:

Still here, hi 👋🏼😊 aaand super bonus for you just because I love you. I know this is gonna literally make you scream, jump, cry, and I mean, it will literally get you out of your minds exactly as it did to me. I present to you a demo of No Way (my second favorite 5H song) ONLY SUNG BY CAMREN!!!!!! It’s only 42 seconds, and the only difference is actually Camila who sings also Normani’s part before hers, but JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, it’s heavenly 😻😍 Thank me later and for now, just enjoy, my children, just enjoy:

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

___

Party Animal

youtube

I have the post the audio apart from this so you can hear it too

#submission #f anon #self reblog after this

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aneekapaneeka · 4 years

Text

big fic rec masterlist here!

📝 - ongoing series ✔ - finished series 🎯 - bulleted 🎀 - one shot

Anonymous Love by @mortaljin - Pairing: ??? x reader - Genre: fluff, high school au - 🎀 - Summary: One sticky note turns into two, two into four and then four into dozens. Who in their right mind would confess their love for you, anonymously, via sticky-note? Why do your seven best friends have shit-eating grins on their faces?

Anonymous - by @bloomsuga - Genre: smut, fluff, angst, social media au - ✔ - Summary: Searching for inspiration, a chart-topping rapper who keeps his identity hidden from the public, going by the stage name RM, stumbles upon you singing in a coffee shop and finds his new muse in your voice. He makes you an offer to collab with one catch: you can’t see his face.

The Rich Man’s Cortchet Club - by @kpopfanfictrash - Genre: smut, humor, college au - 🎀 - Summary: When they were freshmen in college, Namjoon began a club with his six closest friends. The one thing they all had in common? V i r g i n s as fuck. Obviously, they couldn’t call the club the Virgins Club and so, the Rich Man’s Crochet Club was born. Until time passes and Namjoon is the only one left. Now, the Club has one, final mission: to get Namjoon laid.

Reasons Wretched and Divine - by @hollyhomburg - Genre: fluff, hybrid au, angst, poly - 📝 - Summary: You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband, but things start to change for the better when your husband adopts a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon

Beauty & The Bookworm - by @jungshookz - Genre: librarian namjoon🤩, bratty reader, reader is rlly dumb in this one, fluff, smUT, angst - 🎀 - Summary: You discover that there are more things to check out at the library besides books.

far far away - by @lilac-park-jimin - Genre: fluff, college au - ✔ - Summary: when an accidental text from someone that apparently breaks everything, who’s name is namjoon ends up turning into something bigger than the both of you expected.

live & love - @lysjeon - Genre: fluff, angst, social media au - ✔ - Summary: namjoon always liked you but for some reason he never thought you would be interested in him. and you are too scared to tell him you like him too.

Life Is A Whisk - by @readyplayerhobi (you’ll be seeing this gal a lot here) - Genre: fluff, humor - 🎀 - Summary: You have no problem with Kim Seokjin most of the time, in fact you even consider him to be handsome and funny and he feels the same about you. Until you are both placed into a kitchen, and then it becomes the battlegrounds for World War Three, the Bake-off edition.

forever boy - by @lysjeon - Genre: fluff, angst, social media au - ✔ - Summary: how annoying can the handsome popular guy get? the answer is: really annoying, specially when you tell him he isn’t that handsome to you.

Ghosted - by @bloomsuga - Genre: social media au, angst, ghosts, smut, fluff, crack - ✔ - Summary: Your new roommate is everything you could ask for: quiet, never makes messes, a killer dry sense of humor… and oh yeah—he’s dead.

my kind. - by @hobios - Genre: soulmate au, fluff, angst, humor - 🎀 - Summary: “i promise i won’t get enough, think you’re one of my kind.” or, when you make a connection with the handsome guy at the laundromat late one night, you start to wonder if Fate ever makes a mistake when it comes to soulmates.

A Boy Like You - by @cinnaminsvga - Genre: FLUFF, coworker au - 🎀 - Summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

Of Fire and Love - by @hollyhomburg - Genre: fantasy au, dragon yoongi, fluff, angst - 📝 - Summary: When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of your farm. Why does the man you catch glimpses of have horns?

The Sugar Wars - by @hollyhomburg - Genre: soulmate au, idol au, fluff - 🎀 - Summary: Maybe tasting everything his soulmate eats wouldn’t be so bad if Yoongi’s soulmate didn’t have the largest sweet tooth Ever. Maybe you wouldn’t need to sweeten everything if he didn’t drink his coffee so bitter.

basketball captian!yoongi - by @jungshookz - Genre: fluff, smut - 🎀 - Summary: min yoongi - captain of the basketball team. y/n y/l/n - water girl.

chromatic - by @jintobean - Genre: fluff, comedy - 🎀 - Summary: “Fuck, he looks like a sparkly anime boy.”

never judge a cover - by @dulcaet - Genre: fluff, angst, humor - 🎀 - Summary: never had you thought you would find comfort in the character of min yoongi, resident bad boy.

slytherin to my heart - by @bangtan-insfired - Genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, hogwarts au - 🎀 - Summary: You hated Min Yoongi. He hated you. But the both of you were about to find out that hate was just a way to mask another passionate emotion.

Peppermint - @readyplayerhobi

- Genre: fluff, coworker au, angst - ✔ - Summary: Achieving your dream job is something that very people manage to do, which is why you’re all the more happier when you land a job on the film team at Poppin’ Culture; the biggest pop culture website, blog and YouTube channel around. What you don’t expect however, is to fall for the exceptionally shy and awkward colleague who is not even remotely your type. Or is he?

Night Stalker - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: action, angst, smut, fluff, vampire hunter hobi is the hottest hobi, violence - 🎀 - Summary: Vampires are a thing of legend, and yet you find yourself being saved by a self-proclaimed vampire hunter. Only your saviour is half-vampire himself, and struggles with his base instincts. What happens when you get to know him more and feel an attraction you can’t help?

A Universe To You - @readyplayerhobi - Genre: fluff, angst, smut - 🎀 - Summary: Life for you has always been dull and grey; not only because you grew up on the most over-populated and polluted planet in the galaxy but because you’re colourblind. You’re convinced it’s because you have a soulmate out there, but soulmates are a forgotten concept now that humanity has spread across the stars. What happens then, when you finally escape Earth and discover colour with the touch of a man on a planet in which soulmates are just a tale of myth?

Wonder - by @smaubts

- Genre: crack, fluff - ✔ - Summary: In which jimin has a crush on y/n and decides to make it his task to make her fall in love with him, two crackhead personalities unite and make the funniest duo.

Part Of Your Own World - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: fluff, angst, merman jiminie - ✔ - Summary: Jimin has always longed for the wide-open skies of the Above Sea. After saving the life of a beautiful human woman, he seeks to find her and finally live in his dream world. But young mermen should be careful what they wish for.

Insert Quippy Title Here!! - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: CRACK, deadpool jimin, smut - 🎀 - Summary: There is no synopsis. It’s just you…me…and a real good time sweet cheeks.

Star Light, Star Bright - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: fluff, angst, single dad jimin, tattoo artist reader, smut - 🎀 - Summary: Life has not gone exactly how Park Jimin imagined, and yet he can’t possibly imagine his life any different to what it is now. After six hard and stressful years, he’s now the happy owner of a degree along with being the proud dad of his little girl. But what happens when he meets you and his life is tipped upside down once more?

The Evolution Of You And I - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: fluff, angst - 🎀 - Summary: For 15 years, Park Jimin has been in your life in some form. From childhood penpal’s to the closest of friends now, you can’t imagine your life without him even if you’ve never actually met him in person. It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen for him, even across the distance that separates you. But what happens when you finally meet up and you discover he’s been keeping something secret?

Beneath the Water - by @jungshookz (this one is so good, it’s funny asf!) - Genre: fluff, humor, merman jiminie - 🎀 - Summary: Moving to an apartment by the beach just got a whole lot more interesting

Under the Sea - by @bloomsuga - Genre: smut, fluff, humor, merman jimin - 🎀

sorting hat - by @bangtan-insfired - Genre: fluff, hogwarts au - 🎀 - Summary: You were nervous to delve into the unknown Wizard world, but luckily for you, Jimin was there to help.

expecto patronum - by @bangtan-insfired - Genre: fluff, hogwarts au - 🎀 - Summary: You were the first of your class to perfect the patronus charm & Jimin is curious about the memory you used.

the howler - by @bangtan-insfired - Genre: fluff, hogwarts au - 🎀 - Summary: Not being able to take any more of Jimin’s passionate rants about you, the boys decide to take matters in their own hands and send their dear friend a howler.

Papillion - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: angst, fluff, pregnant reader, childhood friends - 🎀 - Summary: Kim Taehyung has been a constant presence in your life for the last 25 years. The bestest friend a girl could ever want; he’s been there for you through all the good times and the bad. What happens though when you find yourself pregnant and abandoned? What happens when your best friend steps up in ways you never imagined?

Seven Seas - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: fluff, smut, atlantis au, angst - 🎀 - Summary: Atlantis is a myth; a hidden city, a sunken island, a missing continent. Only…it’s not a myth. Just hidden out of choice. As the daughter of an Atlantean and a human, you are a halfling that is unwanted by the underwater continent and misunderstood by the surface. But what happens when you finally go to Atlantis and meet an Atlantean who is oddly kind to you?

Sehebon - by @httpjeon - Genre: smut, fluff, angst - 🎀 - Summary: You find yourself on izo huen, home to the sehebon. luckily for you, you’ve arrived at an interesting time.

Apartment 512 - @moononthejoon - Genre: fluff, smut, humor - 🎀 - Summary: After finally finding a decent place to live, you couldn’t believe that you landed next to the loudest neighbour in existance.

Fish Are Friends - by @httpjeon - Genre: fluff, smut, hybrid tae - 🎀 - Summary: After moving to the seaside, there is a dreadful storm. when all is clear, a man washes up on shore…only he isn’t quite human.

Falling in Crayolove - by @jungshookz - Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, kindergarten teacher tae - 🎀🎯 - Summary: Y/n is a very single mom and taehyung is a very single kindergarten teacher. emma knows exactly what she needs to do.

Stuck With You - by @jungshookz (have you ever heard of the song stuck in love with ryan ross?) - Genre: fluff, smut, ENEMIES to LOVERS MATE, university au, fratboii tae - 🎀🎯 - Summary: Kim Taehyung becoming your new roommate is definitely up there on the list of the worst things that have ever happened to you.

Crinkle - by @worldwidebt7 - Genre: webtoon, hybrid au, fluff! - ✔ - Summary: You find yourself adopting a lonesome-looking bunny after hearing about him from a friend who recently adopted her own hybrid. The minute you looked at his big doe eyes, it was all over… - Beautifully done artwork, I definitely recommend checking all @worldwidebt7‘s work out!

Crush -by @jungxk - Genre: fluff, smut, amnesia au, husbang guk, comedy, angst - 🎀

Hopping Mad For You - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: smut, fluff, flatmate jk, hybrid jk - 🎀 - Summary: For two years you’ve lived with your rabbit hybrid roommate, Jungkook. He’s been a model roommate and you’ve found yourself with little complaints. But his behaviour lately has been a little…unusual.

So You Wanna Be The Best - by @readyplayerhobi - Genre: crack, fluff - 🎀 - Summary: Every Pokemon trainer has a rival, and it’s just your luck that you got stuck with your hometown nemesis Jeon Jungkook. As any good rival, he’s determined to beat you to the title of Pokemon Master and he might have a chance at both that and you…if he wasn’t so dang inept.

neighbour!jungkook - by @jungshookz - Genre: fluff, smut - 🎀🎯 - Summary: Cute new apartment and cuter new neighbour.

gymrat!jungkook - by @jungshookz - Genre: fluff, smut - 🎀🎯 - Summary: The gym isn’t half-bad, you suppose.

badboy!jungkook -by @jungshookz - Genre: smut, fluff - 🎀 🎯 - Summary: It’s like he stepped straight out of a fanfiction.

drummer! jungkook - by @jungshookz - Genre: smut, fluff - 🎀 - Summary: ba dum tss

caramel macchiato - by @jungshookz - Genre: FLUFF, barista jk, smut - 🎀 - Summary: one caramel macchiato. one shot of espresso. six ice cubes. ¾ skim milk. ¼ whole milk. no whipped cream. a drizzle of caramel. a squirt of vanilla. and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

Love Letters - by @jennieluvclub - Genre: fluff, angst - 🎀 - Summary: You get a crush on a certain poet named Jungkook, while secret messages start appearing in your locker… you’d think that poetry and romance and mystery would go well together, think again…

felix felicis - by @bangtan-insfired - Genre: fluff, hogwarts au - 🎀 - Summary: Jungkook has a huge crush on you, but is too shy to confess. Luckily for him, his friends make him drink some liquid luck potion that may have been that extra push he needed.

#fic rec #fic recommendation #fanfiction #bts #masterlist #fic rec masterlist #min yoongi #suga #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #recommendation #recommended #kim taehyung #park jimin #kim namjoon #kim seokjin

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loubuggins · 4 years

Text

Girlfriend

A/N: This story was inspired by an idea given to me by @zuppizup. Thank you, friend! As always, please read and review!

Summary: The misunderstanding that he was sure would have come around at some point in their relationship and here it was. The inevitable cultural clash. “Rayla, do you know what girlfriend means?”

The first time she heard the word, it had caught her off guard. She and Callum were sitting on the steps leading to the Dragon Queen’s chamber, going about their usual verbal sparring.

“There's no way me ears are that big.” She scolded him as she glared at the open pages of his journal. She looked pointedly at his latest creation, a sketch of her petting Zym in the very spot they were currently sitting in. He had been adding details to the drawing while they cuddled together, enjoying the rare moment of quiet.

“I didn’t make them big.” He defended himself. “Only pointed, because they are.”

The elf shook her head in disapproval. “Ya made them almost as long as me head!”

For added emphasis, she waved a hand beside her face, gesturing to her actual ears. The boy looked up from his drawing and studied her for a second. His green eyes darkened as he concentrated on the body part in question. His stare was a little unnerving to the girl, but he seemed to either ignore or simply not notice the way she began to squirm and awkwardly try to catch his gaze. After what felt like hours, the young artist looked back to his page. His eyes then flickered back and forth between his sketch and his muse. She could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he took her critique seriously and compared his work with the real thing.

His lips finally parted as he appeared to be preparing a retort, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by the sudden interruption of one of their friends.

“Hey, Callum!” The familiar voice of Soren, a Crown Guard, called out to them from across the foyer. In his large arms, he held baskets filled with bread and fruits. “Quit flirting with your girlfriend and come help me feed the troops!”

The younger boy blushed and sighed as he closed his book. “Duty calls.” He mumbled to her, a hint of an apology behind his words. He handed her the leather-bound pages and placed a quick kiss on her cheek before standing up to meet Soren outside. She returned his gesture with a small smile and watched him go.

It had only been a few days since the final battle against Viren and his mutated army. Many of those who had fought in the battle were still camping at the base of the Storm Spire. The Spire itself could only house so many people, not to mention how difficult it would be for Callum and Ibis to perform the special breathing spell on all those people. So they found it best to let the armies rest on the ground before they returned to their proper homes. Thanks to Callum’s new ability to sprout wings where his arms should be, it had made traveling from the top of the Spire down to the ground and back up again much quicker than taking the endless stairs. However, his skill also meant he had to be gone at different times throughout the day, which made alone time all the more difficult.

But their lack of bonding time was not what gripped her thoughts as she sat alone on the top step. Instead, there was a word that the older blonde had used that replayed in her mind on a loop.

Girlfriend?

The word made no sense. Sure it may be easier to say than “the girl who is your friend” or “your friend that happens to be a girl.” But it still sounded wrong. Besides, she was not just Callum’s friend. She had it on a pretty solid record that her relationship with the human mage was well beyond that of just being friends. Perhaps Soren was just unaware of the change in their status? It seemed hard to believe, even for someone as slow to the mark as Soren. They weren’t hiding their relationship and Callum always seemed so eager to tell people that they were now “a thing” as he referred to it.

“But why else would he call me Callum’s girlfriend?”

The question nagged at her as she left her spot and went to return her love’s sketchbook to his room for safekeeping.

~#~#~

She had honestly forgotten about the word after that. At some point in her thinking, she had finally decided that it was no more than just Soren’s playful teasing of the teenage prince and left it at that. She had meant to ask Callum about it later, but when he finally returned, the question had slipped her mind.

It was not until two days later that she remembered and this time, the strange word was used by Callum himself. It was deliberate too. The humans were preparing to leave the Spire and begin their journey back to the human kingdoms. It was her first time back on the ground since she first climbed the steep steps of the mountain with Callum, Ezran, and Zym. Callum had wanted to come to say his goodbyes and had invited her along. She did not know many humans, but she was familiar with a few by this point. She especially wanted to spend every second she still could with Callum’s brother, who had become like a little brother to her as well. So she had agreed to join him, even if leaving Zym was making her anxious.

When they had first arrived at the temporary camp, they helped with the packing. Though Ezran was a King now and Callum was still a Prince, they all still felt the need to lend a helping hand in the cleanup. As the three were working on wrapping up a tent, they were interrupted by a group of somewhat familiar-looking humans. Corvus she remembers, the burly brown man kept his confident stance beside a woman leading them toward the three kids. She could not name the woman, but her white robes and pointed look made her seem like someone of significance. On the woman’s other side was Callum’s Aunt Amaya, who Rayla probably knew best among the group. She respected the general and she was glad that the feeling seemed mutual now.

Ezran was the first to look up and acknowledge them. He greeted them with a polite smile and nod, stopping what he had been doing to meet up with them. Rayla stared at them for a moment, then shrugged and went back to helping Callum fold the fabric of the tent. She figured it was just “Kingly Business” that did not concern her. That was until the woman in white called out Callum’s name. They had just put away the remainder of the tent, so the prince moved to join the other humans. On instinct, Rayla moved to follow him, then quickly stopped herself. This was probably a human thing. Part of his royal duties. It was strange to think of him like royalty. Sure she would frequently mock his royal title, but to her, he was just Callum. An up and coming mage who loved to joke around, doodle in his book, and talk about his feelings. He was her best friend and the only person she has ever fallen in love with. He was a prince, yes, but she saw him as so much more.

She was surprised when he stopped just a few steps ahead of her and turned to give her an expectant smile. He even held out his hand to her, waiting for her to come along. She was not sure if she was actually welcomed to participate in whatever conversation the humans were having, but Callum made it clear that he would not be joining them without her. With a grin on her face, she ran up beside him and eagerly took his hand into hers.

They approached the group of adults together, stopping to stand at Ezran’s side. Rayla studied their faces to try and gauge their reactions to seeing her. Corvus looked perplexed as he stared at her and Callum’s intertwined hands, but he did not seem to disapprove. Amaya gave the young couple a knowing look instead, along with a small smile. The only person Rayla has yet to meet was the blonde woman who had called them over here, but if she was surprised to see an elf and a human holding hands, she did not show it.

“Prince Callum,” the older woman greeted respectfully, adding a short bow that made Rayla feel slightly awkward. “I am saddened to hear you will not be returning to Katolis with us.”

The boy gave her a polite nod in return. “I wish I could come back and help Ezran, but we’ve talked about it and we agree I am more needed here.”

The woman nodded in understanding. “Yes, with your new elf companion.” Her eyes fell on the elf in question. “Well, I hope you know she is welcome to return with you. Do not feel that you must stay behind to be with her.”

Rayla’s hand tightened around Callum’s and her friendly demeanor began to crack. Heat rose in the boy’s cheeks and he quickly exchanged a look with his elven counterpart.

“Oh erm uh, thank you Opeli, I’m glad to hear that. But the main reason we are staying is to take care of Zym. Rayla and I will be putting together a new Dragon Guard. I’m also going to try learning some more magic while I’m here too.”

Opeli regarded the couple thoughtfully, their discomfort clearly unknown to the advisor. “Of course. Might I add, Prince Callum, that your friend and I have not been formally introduced.”

“Oh, right!” The boy looked apologetic as he gestured his free hand over to the girl at his side. “Rayla, this is Opeli. She’s a royal advisor to the King and a member of Ezran’s council.” He then waved his hand over to the blonde. “Opeli, this is Rayla, my...girlfriend.”

He said the word slowly as if he were tasting the word on his lips and enjoying hearing the sound of it. His chest swelled and his posture straightened as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. The silly mage was practically beaming and for what Rayla did not understand. For she was incredibly pissed.

~#~#~

“Girlfriend, eh? Is that really all you see me as?”

She had been giving him the cold shoulder since their conversation with Ezran’s royal council and Callum had been trying to fix whatever he had said or done wrong to upset her so much ever since. But the poor prince was struggling to get it out of her all day. At least until they reached her empty room in the Storm Spire, where she finally felt comfortable enough to voice her frustrations. Though Callum still wore a look of utter confusion as she glared at him with her arms crossed over her chest, awaiting his response.

But all he could sputter out was a befuddled “What?”

Rayla let out an indignant sigh. “I know us being together is weird to people.” She began as she started pacing the room. “ I know not everyone is going to approve. It will be plenty hard for me to tell Ethari and the rest of Silvergrove about us, but I wasn’t going to lie to them, Callum. I was going to tell them the truth about us, even if I'd be the first elf in history to be ghosted twice!” She came to a halt just inches in front of him and held up two fingers for added emphasis.

“Wait, Rayla, what are you talking about?” He blinked at her as his mind raced to keep up.

“I’m talking about how I love you enough that I’m not afraid of others knowing about it. And up until now, I thought that you weren’t either, but clearly, I was wrong.” She bit back as she folded her arms again. This time her angry stare came with a few tears pulling in the corners of her eyes, threatening to roll down her flushed cheeks.

Callum hated seeing her like this. He did not understand what was causing her so much anguish, but he could not stand being a part of it. He felt his own anger begin to bubble up in his chest, but it was more so at himself than at her.

“Rayla, what do you mean? Of course, I’m not afraid of that! I was the one who asked you if we should tell the Dragon Queen just a week ago! And I told Ez, and my Aunt Amaya, and Ibis, and...and...Rayla I’ve told everyone about us!” He flailed his hands in the air as he looked on to her with exasperation.

His dramatic flair did nothing to dampen her hardened glare. “Yes, but only as your girlfriend.” She stressed out the friend part of the word with the venom of a Soulfang.

Callum blinked at her, his baffled look not leaving his face. “Yes, my girlfriend. What else would I call you? Is there some Moonshadow elf word for girlfriend I should know about?”

The elf gave him an indignant scuff. “We simply call it ‘a friend.’” She bit back in retort.

The mage just stared at her and his voice dropped low. “But Rayla, you’re so much more to me than just a friend.”

Rayla’s hard stare faltered silently at the shift of his tone. She shuffled her weight and crossed her arms over her chest. With her eyes downcast, she spoke up again, softly this time, “If I am, then why do ya keep callin’ me your friend?”

Callum straightened and his mouth fell a gap. He stood there silently searching for the right words in response to her admission. Friend. How could she possibly think that she was just a friend to him? Of course, they were friends, best friends in fact! But they were also something so much more.

“Girlfriend, Rayla. You’re my girl...wait.” And then it dawned on him. The real reason this argument had come about. The misunderstanding that he was sure would have come around at some point in their relationship and here it was. The inevitable cultural clash. “Rayla, do you know what girlfriend means?”

“Of course I know what it means. I’m not daft!” She objected before quickly adding, “It means a girl who is your friend.”

Callum’s face instantly morphed with understanding, a relieved grin spreading across his lips. “No, it means the exact opposite.”

It was Rayla’s turn to look dumbfounded. “What?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but stopped short. He thought about it for a moment, trying to decide the best way for him to explain. “Girlfriend is what someone calls the girl they love.” He started, looking back up at her with an affectionate glint in his eyes. “The girl they have a ‘thing’ with.” He pointed between the both of them. “Don’t elves have a word like that?”

The elf stood astonished for a moment, simply staring wide-eyed at the human boy. Then his words finally soaked in. Her cheeks felt hot as a crimson blush crept it’s way up her neck. She quickly averted her gaze and rubbed the length of her forearms.

“Well, now I feel stupid.” She admitted in a small voice.

Callum’s grin fell as he caught on to her embarrassment. Closing the space between them, he gently ran his hands over her wrists and pulled her crossed arms apart. He slid his fingers over the back of her palms and intertwined their fingers together.

“I’ve never heard someone be referred to as a girlfriend before, but I know Ethari used to call Runaan ‘my heart’ and my parents used to call each other ‘my love.’” Rayla explained, visibly relaxing under his touch. The boy simply smiled reassuringly as he listened to her. “Calling someone yours is the most endearing you get. At least to a Moonshadow Elf.”

“I’m sorry, Rayla.”

Her head snapped up at that. “Sorry? For what?”

“I should have asked you if it was okay, to call you my girlfriend that is. I was just so excited by the idea of actually having a girlfriend and one as beautiful and amazing as you are! And everyone else was calling you my girlfriend so I guess I just started using it too.”

She nodded in understanding. “I should have asked about it earlier. But I had honestly forgotten about it until today. I don’t mind being your girlfriend, Callum.”

The boy perked up at that.

“Now that I know what it means.” She quickly added.

His smile returned and he gave her hands a loving squeeze. “Well, maybe I should call you something from your culture, my heart.” He flashed her a toothy grin.

She shuddered and shook her head. “Bleh no, that’s way too sappy.”

Her disgusted expression earned her a laugh from her prince. “Well, now I’ve got to call you that.” He teased as he pulled her closer and gave her a flirtatious waggle of his eyebrows.

She scoffed at him, yanking her hands back and taking a step back. She tried to shoot him the deadliest glare she could muster in that moment, which was only slightly scary. “Don’t.”

Her command only made him laugh even harder. The sound of his laughter filled the room and made her heart feel lighter.

“Okay, fine, but I will find something that you’ll like.” He declared with an unusual amount of confidence.

“Good luck with that.” She deadpanned as she turned to walked away, but she was stopped by the rise in his voice.

“Wait!” He called out and she paused to look back at him over her shoulder.

“What are you going to call me?” He asked as he caught up to her.

“I call you lots of things.” She offered before smirking at him. “But maybe I’ll try boyfriend.”

He blushed. “Ha, more like manfriend.” He joked while lifting his arm to show off his lean muscles that he had been building since the start of their journey.

His girlfriend rolled her eyes and nudged his side, but laughter still escaped her lips.

“Stupid Prince.”

#the dragon prince #rayllum #tdp rayla #tdp callum #tdp #rayla #callum #tdp rayllum #fanfics #my fanfics #one-shot #humor

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desertislandcloud · 3 years

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Ulrik Munther is the first to admit that self-doubt can get the better of him. But you might be daunted too if you were about to release the most honest and thought-provoking work of your career.

At just 27, Munther is already a seasoned artist with years of industry experience. Signed as a teenager to Universal Music in Sweden after winning the prestigious Melody Grand Prix Nordic competition with an original song, he also achieved viral fame with his endearing cover of Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way”. Three albums followed, all charting in the top five in Munther’s home country. “I grew up in the public eye… I was sort of a teen idol,” he says, wincing a little at the term. “I've been seeking an audience that digs a bit deeper into lyrics and has more of the same shared world view.” He adds, laughing: “I want to make new friends!”

Fans of Munther’s old music would have trouble recognising him now. His new album, Put Your Self Out There, is an astounding work that shows a young man grown wise from experience, but one who is still deeply curious about the world. Munther has a philosophical mind. He thrives on ideas, and on a willingness to challenge and be challenged on important subjects. This music shows him standing on the edge, ready to set sail on a new adventure.

“What I want to say most with this music is probably, be yourself and be honest,” he says from his home in Gothenburg. “To think about things a little more.” While he always knew he wanted to create music, his introduction to the industry at such a young age meant that he was, perhaps, steered in a direction that didn’t quite fit. “At that age you’re very impressionable,” he says, nodding. “It’s easier to trust someone older than to trust yourself.” Feeling somewhat jaded, he took a break from his flourishing pop career and began writing with renowned Swedish author and comedian Jonas Gardell. This marked the first step towards the most personal project of his career to date. “I want this album to lay a foundation I can build on,” he says.

Listeners will recognise the clear influence of Bon Iver in the quirky opener, “Apartment Girl”, on which Munther’s voice appears distorted, both youthful and brittle with experience. Album single “C’est La Vie” is an uplifting track that has the narrator pushing aside his fear of the unknown and embracing a newfound optimism: “I’m cleaning out my closet/ Some I’ll keep but some I’ll toss and/ That’s alright you know, gonna have to let things go/ Say goodbye, say hello.” It’s a feeling that Munther knows all too well. “I’m quite introverted, and I have a tendency to get stuck in my own head,” he says. “But if you overthink things too much, you’ll never do anything with your life.”

Put Your Self Out There has, ironically, a distinctly insular feel, providing the sense that Munther has created his own world in which to express himself. Despite this, the music itself is expansive, bringing to mind a landscape painting where, the closer you look, the more detail you discover. This was achieved with the help of a tightknit team that includes producer Johan Eckeborn (known especially for his work on Swedish artist Jonathan Johansson’s critically acclaimed record, En Hand I Himlen). They found themselves discussing philosophy and religion alongside music, and Munther took on new ideas that were fed into these songs. “We’re in a strange climate right now, where we tend to want to find people with the exact same values as us,” he says. “But if you judge others, you judge yourself. That’s something that’s really sunk in, in the last couple of years. I'm trying to be a lot more open-minded, and I think that's what I'm trying to inspire people to be as well.”

Munther’s ability to express himself transpires in his bruised but stoic music; the piercing, emotional tones of his voice are heightened by deftly constructed compositions. “Don’t Worry” opens on a soft flurry of piano notes falling like autumn leaves. You hear the sharp, steady clack of the percussion, a clock hand announcing the inevitable passing of time. An infinitesimal change in tempo marks a resolution to be swept up, as Munther delivers the title in a soaring falsetto then a comforting murmur until it becomes a mantra. “Gloom” is his letter to himself – a disarmingly candid one – in which he questions what’s left once the trappings of fame and fortune are removed. As the song reaches the close, his voice becomes muffled, yet the synths push through, like rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds. “I’ll meet you at the summit,” he promises. “When I’m out of this gloom.”

Throughout the album, Munther reminds us that we can be our own worst critics. Yet he takes his own advice and never obsesses over making this music “perfect” – as a consequence, he achieves something very close to it. The songs are beautiful precisely because of their flaws, recalling the experimental nature of Ben Howard’s most recent, and best, work. Sufjan Stevens fans will revel in the succinctness of Munther’s lyrics, the frankness of his declarations. “It’s not as complicated as I tend to make it,” he sings on the gospel-influenced “Man in Need”, “But I overthink everyf***ing thing.”

“I’m trying to be very honest,” he says. “Not in a dramatic way, but reflective. And I definitely didn’t want the music to sound too polished.” To avoid the risk of overwhelming his audience with such candour, Munther injects a wry tone into some of the songs, such as the self-aware closer, “Come Find Me”. Others are misnomers designed to surprise the listener, or even provoke them into a new way of thinking. The memorably titled “Big Dick” was the last song to be written during sessions at a studio based just outside of Stockholm. Munther found himself on a train observing a man and his girlfriend: “He was a really cocky guy, the crotch-first type, you know?” Rather than mock him, Munther chose instead to pen a tender acoustic number that seeks to understand what some might dismiss as toxic masculinity. “There are too many walls/ And I don’t have the tools or a number you can call,” he sings.

“This song came from the knowledge that there are so many people you can’t reach, you can’t get through to them,” Munther explains. “These people who feel they have to be smart, the ones who place value in material things. They’re often actually very insecure.” At the time, he recalled the saying, “Hurt people hurt people.” He still thinks about it. “People who need to show off, they must be so lonely,” he says. “Not able to be vulnerable, or be wrong.” Watching this man provoked feelings of frustration in Munther, not at the man himself, but at a society that, despite all its modern methods of communication, often fails to do precisely that. As a multilingual musician, Munther knows all too well the frustrations of feeling unable to translate his innermost feelings. Yet he refuses to preach: “I’m so aware that everything I know, I’ve learned from someone else.” The album title is a cliché for a reason, he says, smiling. “I just want to be courageous enough to have hope.” https://twitter.com/MuntherUIrik https://www.youtube.com/user/UlrikMuntherTV https://www.instagram.com/ulrikmunther

#SoundCloud #music #Ulrik Munther #Pop

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britesparc · 3 years

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Weekend Top Ten #475

Top Ten Films Named After the Protagonist

I’m afraid this is another of those weeks where the list is not only plucked-as-if-from-nowhere, but is also going to be relatively perfunctory. I’ve had quite a few mammoth lists recently, and the kids have been off for Easter so I’ve had less time to sit down and waffle with my keyboard. As such, we’re going off on a random tangent (the best kind of tangent, let’s be honest): films named after the protagonist.

I remember when Michael Clayton came out, and without knowing anything about the film, I was a bit confused; “Michael Clayton” seems such an ordinary name. Was it a true story? Was I supposed to know who this guy is? It seemed a strange, non-exciting, non-explanatory title for a film that’s actually relatively twisty-turny. And, of course, once you sit down and think about it, there are actually quite a few films where the whole hook is “here’s a movie about this guy you don’t know”. Furthermore, some of them are pretty darn great.

Obviously I had to establish some rules, because if you say “ooh, yeah, films where the title is the main character’s name,” then instantly you could say, well, that’s every superhero movie, right? So I instantly discounted that; if it’s a pseudonym or a codename or whatever, it’s out. Sorry, Batman. Sorry, Spider-Man. Also, by that same rationale, sorry, The Quiet American or The English Patient; technically, those are characters, but they’re not their names, so they’re out. I’m also discounting anything where there are other words in the title apart from a name; so, yes, that discounts Batman Begins and The Amazing Spider-Man, but also Get Carter. And it has to be one person, so no The Blues Brothers (or, I guess, Ghostbusters, Gremlins, or Goonies).

Where I have taken a moment is whether or not to consider one-word titles; WALL-E, for instance, or Dave. In the end, I have decided – and this feels even a little arbitrary even for me – that WALL-E would be excluded on the grounds that that’s not a real name. it’s not a codename, necessarily, but it’s more of a model number; it only becomes a name because WALL-E is, to all intents and purposes, a person. If you want you can slot WALL-E in at number one, because that’s where it would be if it were included. Dave, as it happens, wouldn’t have made the list (although it’d probably be in the Top Fifteen). But another one that I’ve decided – after much internal deliberation – to exclude is Amélie, because I feel like its real title is Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain. That’s words other than a name. Sorry, Amélie. But like WALL-E, that’s a masterpiece, so would have probably been about number three.

So there we go: utterly arbitrary rules established, we now present a Top Ten.

John Wick (2014): it’s a film very much about a bloke called John Wick, a name that’s simultaneously very ordinary and also a bit weird. And then it gets into its stride, and Keanu is just offing dudes like a cross between Batman and the Terminator. Excellent action, a great stoic performance by Reeves, but also a rich and deep mythology that slowly unfolds. The sequel is better, but it all started here.

Jackie Brown (1997): Tarantino’s forgotten film, a far more subtle and slower film than most of his others, lacking the histrionics and heightened alternate-reality stuff he’s getting more famous for. Despite QT being relatively young at the time, it’s actually a really sweet meditation on aging and chances passing you buy, anchored by a great, humane performance from Pam Grier. Despite the twisty plot and crime chaos, she’s the dead centre, cool but also realistically vulnerable. Also has Samuel L. Jackson being a badass.

Forrest Gump (1994): often criticised for its sentimentality (unfairly, I think) and its politics (yeah, I’m with you there) Gump is still great. Tom Hanks gives the character a ton of heart and pathos, walking a difficult line between a broad portrayal and nuanced characterisation. As a whirlwind tour of boomer history unfolds around him, he remains an engaging centre. The end of the film, when he struggles to ask if his son is smart, is a beautiful, heartbreaking moment.

Barton Fink (1991): a great exercise in stylised Coen weirdness. John Turturro’s Fink is a delightful arsehole, a writer full of his own self-importance, but as he is sucked further and further into this Hollywood hell, we still root for him and sympathise with him, even if he is in many ways the architect of his own downfall. Kudos, too, to John Goodman for his supremely demonic performance, which really should have bagged him an Oscar nom.

Jerry Maguire (1996): another film that could be criticised for its sentimentality, or maybe even its hypocrisy, criticising the commerciality of the sports industry whilst also cheering about one of the characters bagging a multi-million-dollar contract. But Cruise himself, as Jezza, gives one of his best performances as a man struggling to remain moral and ethical both at work and at home as he rushes into a hasty marriage. The oft-ridiculed “you complete me” scene is actually amazing and really emotional. And the kid is cute.

Donnie Darko (2001): a twisty oddity that came out of nowhere, starring a brother-and-sister team of actors we’d never heard of before, with famous people (her off E.T., him off ER) in supporting roles. But Jake G anchors the film with a great performance, genuinely making us wonder whether trippy supernatural stuff is going down, or if he’s just becoming unhinged. A really cool, interesting, unnerving film, that managed to successfully weaponise 80s nostalgia before that became annoying.

Napoleon Dynamite (2004): another one of those films that sort of came from nowhere, full of unknowns, but instantly built a huge cult following almost immediately. It’s delightfully weird, with its own internal logic, creating a world of weirdos and outcasts that we just completely root for right from the off, and it all hinges on Jon Heder’s central performance as the gangly, strange-looking, crazy-named Napoleon. Altogether now: “Yes, I love technology…”

Michael Clayton (2007): only this low because I don’t remember its twists and turns as well as I should. This is a taut and twisty thriller, with a man discovering a conscience and uncovering all kinds of nefarious corporate behaviour. Its great because the stakes aren’t world-altering, just big-scale bad behaviour and people earnestly opposing it. Full of tremendous performances but it’s got another heartfelt turn by Clooney at its centre.

Erin Brockovich (2000): another great person-investigates-corporate-bastardry, with Julia Roberts never-better as the earnest and earthy Erin who transcends her comparatively lowly status to throw her heart and soul behind the battle for justice. Her performance defines the film (and rightly won her an Oscar), which in terms of events and plot is relatively straightforward, but is shot through with a level of down-to-earth realism and a beautiful portrayal of friendship between Brockovich and lawyer Ed Masry (Albert Finney).

Ed Wood (1994): a film made at the peak of Burton’s powers, before his stylisation became a bit overbearing, and before his constant casting of Depp became annoying (and well, well before Depp himself became problematic). This is a love letter to the golden age of moviemaking and also to the schlocky B-movies Wood himself traded in, finding heroism in the example of one under-talented man making poor artistic choices. Depp is sweet and endearing with an earnest drive behind his good nature, making us root for him throughout. Arguably Depp’s best performance and Burton’s best film. But all due respect to Martin Landau, Sam Jackson should have won the Oscar that year.

#top ten #films #movies #actors #names

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darth-salem-emperor-of-earth · 4 years

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Not sure if I’m late or not but here is my latest entry for @naruto-fantasy-week, a prompt for Day 5! I doubt I’ll have enough time to eek out fanfics with the last two prompts before the event ends but I’ll eventually write them and post them anyway and go back to this fanfic and the previous to spruce them up and expand on the ideas I came up with for each fanfic/prompt.

There is some violence mentioned and acted upon, especially in the end, but it’s nothing too graphic. And as a fun tidbit, cantarella was a poison rumored to be used by the Borgias but since there’s not a whole lot of evidence the poison exists, I took artistic license with it to suit my purpose of this story.

The title derives from the lyrics of Nightwish’s song “7 Days to the Wolves”.

Summary: He was a man of many faces, shapes, and ideas. Unfortunately, shapeshifters like him were a prize to be captured and then used for gladiator arenas. While he was used to the killing that didn’t mean Orochimaru never stopped contemplating his revenge. Who would have thought he would find another shapeshifter hidden right under Danzo’s nose? Naruto Fantasy Week, Day 5. Prompt: Shapeshifters. [Orochimaru x Sakura]

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“Serpents were in my heart.” — Mary Shelley, The Mortal Immortal

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The white wyrm rested, and waited, in anticipation for that small cellar door to open and here the sounds of the humans issuing orders at him, telling him how lucky he was that a wretched snake, a shapeshifter, continued to live under the generous hospitality of Danzo, and if he continued to do his part in the fighting pits, he would be fed and not lose any of his scales.

Orochimaru snarled at the door, wishing he could snap the wood in two and break the bones of the sentries posted outside his door. He heard that same annoying speech approximately 5475 times, once a day, for the last fifteen years. And sometimes they lied, for after battles, if he ended the match too quickly or gave his hapless opponent a swift, clean, and painless death, they’d drug him and pry a few of his white scales off, while the magic they used to bind and control his shapeshifting restrained him from unable to lash out. Such actions served to not only remind Orochimaru of who was in charge of his life and to sell his pearlescent scales to the highest bidder, adding a hefty, lucrative amount to Danzo’s coffers.

One of these days, he was going to swallow Danzo whole and let that fool slowly digest in his stomach. His death would be slow, agonizing, and very satisfying.

A guard eventually did open his chamber door, recited the boring, useless drivel Orochimaru heard over thousand times before nodding over to the masked mage at his side. The unknown mage wore a rodent-like mask, different from the last mage who temporarily lifted the block on his shapeshifting.

“Danzo requests your presence, your human presence, at his side. The next match is starting soon.” informed the masked mage once the yellow glow departed from his outstretched hand. Orochimaru narrowed his slitted golden eyes dangerously. He remembered what happened when they first allowed him to change shapes, to assume his human form. He acted all compliant and understanding, lulling them in a false sense of security right before he first bite off the head of the mage, then a nearby guard, before shifting out of his wyrm body and back into his human self to escape the narrow door and grab the first weapon he could find to slay the other guard who was about to raise the alarm of his escape. He was eventually recaptured before he could leave the keep, home of the fighting pits, and was whipped brutally for his attempt. Yet through it all, Orochimaru still had to laugh bitterly at their earlier carelessness. Did they not forget who he was and why Danzo decided to let him live after his greatest transgression (besides being a shapeshifter)?

Before the village discovered his identity of a shapeshifter–creatures the elders condemned as monsters, only fit for extermination–, he was a trained warrior, a skilled killer who served the town while keeping his snake-like gilded eyes hidden in his youth through glamor or shaded spectacles. His parents could hide their natural heritage and appearances better with simple alterations and had no need for glamor, since they were older and more experienced shapeshifters. Yet all their years of experience and aptitude didn’t save them from being slaughtered–by the orders of Danzo. And Sarutobi, the village’s main leader, Orochimaru’s very teacher, turned a blind eye, and let the cloak-and-dagger execution happen. And then promptly turned around to lie to his young pupil’s grief-stricken face about his parents’ deaths.

He didn’t regret killing that old bastard for lying to him after all those years. He may have not wanted his parents to die or issued the decree but his negligence, his cowardice, and acceptance of shapeshifters being lesser beings, like animals, made him just as guilty as Danzo, who hung up his parents’ skins up on his office for all to see. He had forced one of them to turn into a large serpent and the other, a small dragon, all so he could use their hide as a trophy. Such disfigurement was the most traumatizing death any shapeshifter could experience, especially if their corpse was paraded around like a proud prize for humans to gawk at.

Orochimaru was left alone in his cell once more so he could transform back into a human and change into the clothes that were left for him. Those robes were always placed so neatly in the corner, waiting for him, when he was permitted to be human. His scaly body was soon a tall, lean pale man with long, silky black hair, and he kept his signature, curved golden eyes with dark purple markings around the eyelids. Everyone already knew who he really was so why bother mask his true appearance?

By the time he was escorted and brought to Danzo, the power-hungry man was already barking orders at the serving girls to bring him more sake and food. For Orochimaru, he simply inclined his head, inviting him to take a seat and watch the upcoming match. Just like always, whenever he planned to sic some unfortunate soul in the ring with him, as a wyrm. He wanted Orochimaru to study the gladiator’s fighting techniques and movements beforehand, a sure sign that he wanted his opponent to die in the battle arena.

Most likely a political opponent of Danzo’s or a dissenter he labeled as a ‘traitor’. My, my, he’s finding so many of them these days.

The fighter down below was fast, Orochimaru would give him that, but strategy was not his forte. He dodged most of his larger foe’s attacks and was more of the type to wear his assailant down until they became exhausted and made mistakes. And he repeated his defensive blows often, another tactical error. Basically, his onslaught with him would hardly be a worthy match.

Sighing in disappointment, Orochimaru helped himself to a goblet of water, draining its contents dry before setting the cup back down. As if on cue, one of the serving maids rushed up to him to refill his drink. He turned around, about to politely thank her (after all, unlike some, he actually had manners), and he heard a sharp intake of breath. When a pink haired server came into his line of vision, his nostrils flared, and her green eyes stared at him surprise. He understood her reaction.

Here, amidst Danzo’s private posse of servants, trusted men, and soldiers, was another shapeshifter. And unlike him, she was not branded or wearing chains that restricted or prohibited her from transforming into other animals or people. Which meant…

Danzo doesn’t know she’s a shapeshifter. How bloody rich.

If he wasn’t in the presence of Danzo’s oh so charming company, he’d laugh viciously at the irony right there, on the spot.

The girl–no, young woman–whoever she was, fumbled with the pitcher during her moment of distraction and quickly averted her gaze to focus on not making an entire mess of the water and attracting the unwanted attention of Danzo. Meanwhile, as she concentrated solely on watching the water rise in his metallic goblet, Orochimaru leaned forwarded and whispered in her ear.

“Be careful, little one. Better stick to the shadows, lest someone gets suspicious and uncovers your secret. Then you’ll be chained, just like me.”

That mocking warning startled her but she uttered nothing. She merely finished filling up his cup and returned to her original location, off to the corner and out of sight. Yet she did sneak a glance over her shoulder to get a glimpse of him one more time before she returned to her duties and he resumed his bored review of the fighting before him. Hopefully, that fledgling shapeshifter had enough sense in her to realize she risked more than just her life staying here and would quit the village in the dead of the night.

There was no need for this putrid city to have two shapeshifters under their control or be responsible for another’s one death.

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He was wrong about the other shapeshifter.

She must be lacking wits, to sneak past all the guards just so she could creep into his cell and offer him water and leftover food from the kitchens. Some might call her courageous but all Orochimaru beheld was a foolhardy woman who should have left Danzo’s service, packed her bags, and left this godforsaken place already.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he hissed, revealing his rows of sharp, venomous teeth.

The roseate haired shapeshifter ignored him, setting down a jug of water, scraps of chicken, pheasant, beef, and wild boar. The tender, seasoned meats and the spices cooked into its juices wafted through his nose and he eyed the meal curiously.

“I never thought I would see another shapeshifter,” she began, inching the food tray closer to him. “Especially one imprisoned by Danzo. I thought he had a strict ‘kill every single shapeshifter I see’ policy.”

He chuckled dryly. “He does, unless he wants to use you for his own purposes. But why are you here to see me? You risk torture and certain death should the guards notice you.”

“But I wanted to see you!” she protested. “I haven’t seen, much less talked to another shapeshifter in years. Especially one who could help me–teach me, that is!”

“Teach you what?” Orochimaru finally decided to sate his hunger and first devour the bits of pheasant, relieved to find that the chef didn’t use too much pepper and balanced the amount of herbs just right.

“To change into larger, stronger creatures,” she explained, verdant eyes sparkling with hope. “You see, I was adopted by humans and they didn’t know my true heritage. So I had to learn how to transform on my own or scavenge for any books left behind by shapeshifters for helpful tips. I can do small animals and creatures but nothing as big or impressive as this.” She gestured to his wyrm body.

That explains how she was able to skulk past all the sentries.

“Why should I help you?” Orochimaru cut in, cocking his big, heavy head at her. “Why stay here, talking to me, instead of departing this wretched town and start searching our own kind? Surely, someone there can help you better than I.”

Her green eyes leveled with his amber ones, resolute and dark. “Because I crave to kill that bastard Danzo and I believe you’ll help me do that. And besides, I want to help you escape this horrible place.”

She didn’t even know him and yet, she wanted to help set him free. This shapeshifter was a strange creature, but he understood the hunger for revenge. It was a language he fathomed all too well and the burning desire had kept him going for all these torturous fifteen years. Danzo expected him to try to escape again or at least, try to murder him, but he didn’t anticipate her. And that raised the odds a little in their favor.

“What an intriguing proposal,” he practically purred, his breathing fanning against her face and causing her pink hair to billow out behind her. “In exchange for me training you in how to change into more complex forms, you’ll help me escape from this dungeon, and somehow, together, we’ll kill Danzo. Is that correct?”

She nodded firmly. “Yes. And I don’t care how long the training takes. I want, no need, to master my shapeshifting.”

At least she was dedicated, eager to learn. Orochimaru couldn’t abide small-minded people and those who had no drive, no interest in acquiring more knowledge and skills.

Either way, he was trapped underneath the fighting pits, with nothing else better to do so why not? At least this way, he wouldn’t be so dreadfully bored.

“Very well, I will accept this offer. However, I will need to know the name of my pupil. It’s only polite after all.” He forked his long tongue at her, amused when he startled her a little.

“It’s Sakura.” She bowed her head in reverence. When was the last time someone gifted even a small measure of respect like that? “What’s yours? I need to know the name of my teacher too.”

He grinned wide, knowing full well his face probably appeared utterly monstrous and terrifying but to Sakura’s credit, she didn’t flinch or scramble away from him in supreme terror.

Good.

“Orochimaru. Now, let us begin with your first lesson.”

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Contrary to the popular belief among humans, shapeshifters didn’t magically obtain knowledge on how to transfer into every creature or animal in existence overnight. Each attempt took time, energy, training, and practice to learn, control, and master each form, so a shapeshifter could not only move and talk in their new form but stay in it for long periods of time. The same went to altering their human appearance or body completely.

So his lessons with Sakura continued for years as she made progress with more medium sized animals or changing her human self to the point no one would recognize her. He never inquired why she wanted Danzo dead so much because that was none of his business and right now, he was not that interested in prying into her personal affairs. In return, she never asked what he did to be imprisoned so cruelly by Danzo. However, he did not miss the way her eyes would linger over his old scars or small, open patches of flesh where his scales once were and her face would scrunch up into pure, indignant rage. It was adorable, actually.

Yet he could hardly say the same whenever she was too exhausted in her training to head back to her room and go to sleep in her bed. Instead, Sakura would simply collapse amidst his coiled, scaly body and wrapped her arms around him, almost as if she was giving him a hug. Part of her features were usually resting up against his neck, so near his face that half of the time Orochimaru was tempted to shake his head or move around to jostle Sakura out of her slumber but something always prevented him from doing so. Maybe it was pity seeing how weary she was, juggling her servant duties, making sure her identity as a shapeshifter is still a secret, and then sneaking into his cell during the night to receive more lessons from him. She probably didn’t even realize she was falling asleep on him. Regardless, Orochimaru allowed this habit of hers to continue and only waited a few hours later to carefully wake her up and remind her to get back to her room before the sun rose and the other servants inquired about her absence. The routine turned into a cycle he had no motivation to stop.

While Sakura was improving with her shapeshifting and finally could move onto the larger creatures, they began to discuss, in all seriousness and not just idle musing, about escaping and slaying Danzo in the process.

“Poison would be the surest way to kill him,” Sakura opined. “There are so many different varieties out there that are slow acting and don’t show any immediate signs of poison until after death. And I serve him his meals occasionally, right after he is given his medicine. I can always poison the drink he takes to wash the foul flavor of the concoction down. He wouldn’t be able to notice a difference in taste.”

“A fine idea but Danzo is a paranoid man, especially since he knows I want to kill him and many of my previous forms favored snakes, serpents, or dragon-like beasts. I’ve heard he boosted his immunity to several poisons so if we choose poorly and select the one he’s immune to, then we wasted our time.” Orochimaru pointed out, stretching out his long, cumbersome physique in this rather cramped cell.

Undaunted, Sakura still pressed the venom route. “What about poisons that will simply immobilize him and prevent him from speaking or moving for a long time? Surely he wouldn’t have spent his time increading his defense for poison that won’t kill him outright or over time.”

Cocking his head, Orochimaru regarded her curiously at her suggestion. If Danzo was paralyzed like that, preferably in his bed, those close to him would raise their suspicions that this wasn’t natural and the work of some curse or toxin. On the other hand, if they measured the dose correctly and timed its effect exactly, then it could be possible to have the old devil at their mercy. That is, if he was predicting Sakura’s plan accurately.

“Are you suggesting we use a poison that will paralyze sometime in the night, rendering him unable to defend himself or call for help as we kill him?” he stated, making sure they were on the same page.

Sakura nodded, eyes resolved, her face grim. “Yes. Do you think that scheme would work?”

“It could, if we can get our hands on this specific poison. Cantarella, I believe it’s called. Do you know where you can obtain some?” Creating cantarella on their own would take far too long and even though shapeshifters were blessed with longevity, Orochimaru did not want to take any more risks with these nighttime lessons of theirs. Sooner or later, someone would notice Sakura’s odd nocturnal routines and investigate. And such nosiness could get them both butchered.

“Yes, I know someone. He poses as a traveling merchant and has no love for Danzo or this village. He won’t ask questions if I purchase the cantarella from him.”

Orochimaru hummed with approval. “Good, that issue is taken care of. Now, onto the other snag in this scheme of ours.” Lifting his head up, he gestured to the thick, old, and heinous brand embedded in his upper torso, located right on his upper left chest if he was a man. “This brand and the chains that bind me here prevent me from transforming. Since none of us know how to remove the brand or negate it completely, we need one the sealing rings the mages use to control whether or not a shapeshifter can change their form.”

Moving away from her spot on the hard, damp ground, Sakura approached the branded section and gingerly reached out to touch it, tracing the design slowly. “I think I can get one. It might take me a few days or a week to butter up the mage but I have a plan.” She turned her head towards him. “Trust me on this. By the end of this week, I will get us that ring and once we have it, then all we have to do next is administer the cantarella.”

“And not get caught in the process,” Orochimaru reminded soberly. “If Danzo or one of his supporters catches wind of our plot, then we’re good as dead.”

And this time, Danzo will skin me for certain, wyrm form and all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His concern on Sakura’s unspoken plan to get a sealing ring from a mage was apparently groundless. For by the end of the week, after she entered his cell in the form of a cat, he glimpsed the ring in her mouth. She dropped the item in front of her, a triumphant beam on her feline visage before steadily changing back into the petite, muscled young woman with short, cropped rose hair and jade eyes.

“How long do we have before the mage starts searching for his missing ring?” was the first question Orochimaru asked, not touching the said ring right away. For years he longed to get his hands on this trinket, to use its powers to nullify the brand’s power and finally control his own shape for a change. It didn’t matter whether he or Sakura used the ring, the magic inside would work and he could shift back into his human self again or take the form of another animal. They were lucky the sorcery within those rings could be accessed by anyone with just a simple word, a word Orochimaru heard often enough with his now almost twenty years of imprisonment.

Contemplating his query, Sakura scrunched her nose up to concentration on her estimation on the amount of time they had left to enact their wild scheme. “I think we have until morning. The sleeping potion I gave him will leave him knocked out the rest of the evening and night.”

Sleeping potion? If he had eyebrows in his wyrm form, Orochimary would have risen both of them. Only those who possessed enough knowledge and skills in medicine would boost such confidence in the lasting effects of a sleeping potion. No mere amateur could create a legitimate concoction that would actually work.

Sakura never ceased to surprise him.

“A shapeshifter and a practitioner of medicine? My, my, you must have an interesting story to tell. I must say, I’m rather impressed with your skillset.” Orochimaru remarked. He remembered a former comrade-in-arms who was a combat medic, the first in her line of work. By the time he murdered their former teacher, Sarutobi, she had already left the town and roamed the countryside to be with her lover, a civilian named Dan. If Danzo was now fully dominating this town, she would have been aghast and then incensed what became of her home.

Orochimaru hadn’t thought about Tsunade for a long time. Being chained in a dungeon and used for gladiatorial matches had a peculiar way of warping one’s memories and perception of time, it seemed.

Sakura brightened at his praise, the luster in her eyes practically illuminating his dim, dusky cell. “I’m happy to hear that, Orochimaru. Sleeping potion can be chancy, especially mixed with alcohol, but the mage I was charming earlier already wanted to spend some time alone with me after his shift. Getting the sleeping potion was actually harder than mixing it into his ale. By the time he wakes up tomorrow, he won't remember if we had a wild night or not.”

Mocking laughter percolated from the back of Orochimaru’s long, thick throat. Undone by the lust in his own loins. How insipidly easy.

“As long he won’t recall clearly and the potion lasts, we have our chance.” He nodded to the ring on the ground. “Use that thing on me. It’ll be easier for you to release the binding seal on me rather than myself.” His tail or mouth were much too enormous to hold the ring securely with dropping it or accidentally swallowing it. “All you need to do is chant ‘Release’ and I should be able to change my form at will.”

Sakura gifted him a skeptical look. “The word to use is ‘release’? Nothing else? Nothing more complicated?”

“I never said the mages under Danzo’s control were intelligent. Most of them are mindless drones. Danzo mass produces those rings to help all of his soldiers and assassins combat shapeshifters so of course he wants them to be easy to utilize.”

She glared at the offending ring on the ground prior to picking it up and slipping it under her finger. Her mouth opened and formed the lone word, her voice low, soft, but commanding.

“Release!”

He felt the brand heat up, the pin-prickling warmth uncomfortable at first prior to evanescing away into nothing. The shadow of control the brand had always rendered inside his mind and body was gone, replaced with an empty sensation that there was no magic this time to stop him from shifting.

His body grew smaller and assumed a new shape. His alabaster scales became white skin, long, luxurious hair the color of jet black cascading effortlessly down his scalp and past his shoulders and back, and he relished the feel of arms, legs, hands, and feet. The only part of him that remained the same was his golden eyes, outlined by violet markings.

Sakura stared up at him in wonder, holding the ring up for him to take and use for his own protection. “I��ve never seen you shapeshift before. You did so flawlessly...it’s like watching water move on its own.”

An indulgent half-smile slithered across his lips, accepting the ring and dropping the trinket over his pointer finger. “If you live long enough as I have, then you’ll be able to shift your body as swiftly and deftly as me.” His eyes roamed past Sakuraand over to the cell door behind them. There were no guards around but they still had to be cautious. They were so close to the final stages of their plot.

“I take it since you made plans to snatch this ring that you already are in possession of the cantarella?”

She nodded. “Yes, and I’ve been scheduled to bring Danzo his meal and drink tonight, with the physician who will feed him his medicine.” A black smirk spread across her fair visage. “I will be needed for this duty in less than an hour.”

He expected such news but the information was so welcoming and pleasing to him that his half-grin soon morphed into a smirk identical to hers. “Perfect. Go and make the preparations and let me know when it’s done. When night has fallen, we will shapeshift into an unnoticeable animal to enter his room. After that…” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if the two of them would just be wishing Danzo goodnight instead of murdering him in his bed. But the sinister, vindictive gleam in both of their gazes belied the softness of his tone. Orochimaru could imagine Danzo’s blood on his hands, coating the entire wall in a crimson palette. “Well, let’s give the people of this...amusing establishment something to chat about tomorrow morning.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The priceless, alarmed look in Danzo’s eyes would be forever burned in Orochimaru’s mind. There was a small fragrance of fear emitting from the usually prideful, smug hunter of shapeshifters, the tantalizing smell hovered so deliciously over him as the two shapeshifters approached the bed, a candle in both of their hands so Danzo could witness his assassins. The cantarella worked wonders for even now, Danzo could not move nor speak to save himself. All he could was listen. Listen and wait for his demise to come.

“I warned you all those years ago that killing me would have been wiser for you,” Orochimaru intoned darkly, his whispery words surely evoking the same memory from Danzo. The candlelight illuminated his amber eyes so clearly in the vacant darkness of the room. “But I shouldn’t be so rude and hog all the introductions. Sakura, dear, why don’t you jot Danzo’s recollection of you? Judging by the confused expression on his face, I say he doesn’t recall you.”

Danzo wheezed and grunted, mouth hanging up like a fish, but his fear was now replaced with utter rage.

In an instant, Sakura held a dagger over his chest, a silent snarl overcoming her mouth, her face promising no mercy and a slow, painful death. She glared at Danzo like he was vermin, not fit to even exist in this world. “I doubt you remember me, you bastard. Why would you, when you banned the women in this village the right to become warriors? And why would you care about some girl all those years ago, from a civilian family, who could not possibly be a threat to you? After all, it was her friend, that orphan boy whom the neighbors whispered about having shapeshifting powers and that he acted more like an animal than a boy? Isn’t that right?”

By now, in the midst of her ranting, Sakura had already begun to sink the blade into Danzo’s stomach and the old coot hacked, and then gurgled out wordless noises, his eyes wide as saucers. Although Danzo could not scream out his agony, Orochimaru still tore some of the bedsheets and stuffed them in his mouth, just in case. Sakura retracted her hand, only to plunge the dagger into another area of his abdomen once more.

“He was just a boy, Danzo! And he was my friend!” she growled, jade eyes ablaze with retribution, fury, contempt, and grief. Emotions Orochimaru comprehended all too well. He could never forget behelding his parents’ hides decorated in Danzo’s office, no matter how hard he tried. “His name was Naruto and you executed him for being a mischievous shapeshifter.” Again and again she stabbed, garnet holes oozing out of him and spreading outward to create morphless, endless streaks and designs, staining his clothes and sheets until the entire bed cover, once a bland beige color, now was dyed a deep burgundy hue. “But you missed one. You missed me, Sakura. All this time, I’ve been serving your food, pouring your drinks, and you didn’t fucking realize a shapeshifter was amongst you this whole time.” She spat in his wrinkled countenance, giving the dagger another savage twist before she rend the weapon out and handed the blade to Orochimaru.

Your turn, she seemed to convey.

He tilted his head at her as a silent ‘thank you’, the hilt of the sanguinary, jagged dagger warm, consoling, and solid against his palm. He rested the edge of the dagger against Danzo’s throat, the point delicately piercing the skin of that center bulge. “I know based on how much blood you have already lost thanks to Sakura’s wonderfully enthusiastic work that you don’t have long for this world. So in your last fleeting moments, I am going to fulfill my promise to you and take my pound of flesh.” Danzo’s eyes bulged in recognition, his chin soaked with his drool.

Orochimaru cackled. Excellent, he still remembers my first threat to him before he cast me into the dungeons.

“That’s right, Danzo. I’ve come to carve out your heart at last.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he and Sakura changed into bats and flew out of the open window Sakura had left ajar hours earlier, when she added the cantarella into Danzo’s drink, the sun was barely reaching the tips of the hills and bringing faint tinges of purples, pinks, and oranges to the night sky. By the time the servants opened the door and witnessed the gruesome display of what little remained of Danzo, the two shapeshifters would be a distant memory and far from the village’s reach.

“What will you do now that Danzo’s dead? You can shapeshift on your own quite well.”

At his question, Sakura frowned. “I’m not sure. I always assumed I’d die right after assassinating Danzo so I never really figured out the part of what comes next.” She combed through her lush, pink hair, her fingers untangling any stubborn knots. “But I recently heard some shapeshifters live away from humans and formed their settlement. Perhaps we could find them and live amongst them?”

Funny how she included him in her idea. Yet Orochimaru didn’t protest. It wasn’t as ifhe had any fine plans of his own and besides his parents, there was no one else in the world who cared about him. Save for Sakura.

“I suppose that idea has merit,” he admitted, pretending not to notice the delighted sparkle in her verdant gaze or the way her lips curled upwards in triumph. “Let’s give your plan a try and see if we’re lucky enough to find more of our own.”

Much to his surprise, she reached over to grab his hand and held onto it, a small smile gracing her lips. “Even if we don’t, we won’t be alone. I’m…” She swallowed briefly before resuming. “I’m grateful...and delighted to have you in my life, Orochimaru.”

He squeezed her hand fondly, the right words caught in his throat. So was he.

Regardless, Sakura understood his unspoken sentiment and continued to grin ever brighter for the rest of the day.

#narutofantasyweek2020 #narutofantasyweek #naruto fantasy week #naruto-fantasy-week #OroSaku #Sakura x Orochimaru #Shapeshifters #my writing

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finkmakescharacters · 3 years

Text

Name: Dantalion Goethe

Gender: male

Age: 30

Residence: Here-Nor-There

Personality: serious, fair, reserved, intelligent, prim, logical, arrogant, persnickety, introverted, unfriendly, morbid, polite

Likes: black tea, mystery novels, being challenged, puzzles and riddles, rainy nights, learning something new, studying magic

Dislikes: getting dirty, parties, people who mistreat library books, closemindedness, secrets, rulebreakers, yardwork

Important Belongings

-The Old Grimoire, a book of incantations passed down to him by his father

-his vintage tea set, very expensive white porcelain with plum and gold trim

This is Dantalion, a well mannered psychic. He can show you visions of past, present or future and control the minds of others. He's a bit haughty and very hard to impress but he has a strong desire to maintain order. Lawful Neutral, if you will. Quiet, serious and eternally hungry for knowledge, Dantalion is often holed up in his study, reading through his grimoire or perhaps a good mystery. He loathes secrets and will not stand for information being withheld from him. He'll use his powers to either stealthily read the other's thoughts or overload their mind and cause crippling migraines if a more forceful approach is needed. That's not to say he doesn't hold his own secrets. Bit hypocritical maybe. Dantalion is not a social creature, preferring to keep his nose buried in his books. He's open to learning about all types of magic and has great respect for those who can provide him with an intellectually stimulating conversation. His wild hair appears to have a mind of its own and he can even hold objects with it. More books to read! He lives in an old gothic house in the small port town of Here-Nor-There that's not exactly in the most fabulous state, but Dantalion doesn't seem to mind. The roof may leak and the doors all squeak but he calls it home. His belongings are all tidy and organized, despite the exterior of his home looking rather shabby. If he's not reading, Dantalion may be writing his own tales or practicing his calligraphy. He takes great pride in his gorgeous penmanship and lettering. Though rather distant and stern, Dantalion is far from heartless. He's the type to listen closely and say little, allowing you to vent your frustrations without judgement. He's also dependable and loyal, as well as honest. Lying disgusts him and he picks on lies quickly. Dantalion has a very strong sense of honor. He will never back down from a fair challenge, nor will he flee or quit when he's losing. It does sting him when he's defeated by a lesser opponent. Dantalion isn't one to joke around and cuts playful goofiness short with a curt call back to serious conversation. That's not to say he doesn't ever have a laugh. His own sense of humor is very dry and unique to him. Others might think he's being weird or even rude when he's cracking the rare joke.

Design Notes

-6'3"

-wears pale face makeup and blush, neck is his natural skin tone

-beauty mark under eye

-hair is wild and untamed but always covers one eye

-cleft chin

Have a character interview with Dantalion!

WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

"My name is Dantalion. A pleasure."

WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?

"Dantalion is my real name. Dantalion Victor Goethe. Please do not call me Dante."

DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT?

"I can't say that I know the full origin of my name, but I recall Father mentioning my middle name was taken from a distant uncle. I don't believe I ever met him though."

ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?

"I am quite single and quite happy so. Perhaps in time I will find a man or woman that I can spend my life with, but I am content as I am currently."

HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS?

"I am a psychic, a seer. I can see what has been or will be. It is not always voluntary and visions can be sudden."

STOP BEING A GARY STU.

"I apologize, I don't know of a 'Gary Stu'."

WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR?

"Allow me to move my hair for you. They're a vibrant light green."

HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR?

"My hair is a dark, deep, plum purple."

HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?

"In my immediate family, there is Mother and Father, as well as my two younger brothers, Valefar and Eligos. Valefar is two years younger than me and Eligos is five years younger."

OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS?

"Not currently. I had a wonderful cat for many years before he passed recently. His name was Azrael, a lovely little sphynx. It's unfortunate but not unexpected. 24 is quite good for a house cat."

THAT’S COOL I GUESS, NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.

"Secrets. I can't stand them. Not terribly fond of sweet tea either. And people who 'dog ear' the pages of books, don't get me started..."

DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING?

"I took calligraphy lessons as a boy and continue to practice today. I'm also an avid reader and enjoy cleaning and organizing my study. Granted it doesn't really get disorganized, but I enjoy organizing my books in different ways. Perhaps alphabetical by title, perhaps alphabetical by author, who can say? Bit of a wild card, I am."

EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?

"Yes, though only when necessary to obtain information or incapacitate. I have assisted local detectives before in apprehending criminals and in order to give them what they wanted, I was required to use my powers to induce migraines in the accused. I don't particularly enjoy it, but I answer to the authorities at the end of the day, and they needed me."

EVER….KILLED ANYONE BEFORE?

"No, I have never needed to use lethal force and I pray I never need to. I believe lethal force should only be used if there is a very real threat on one's life and even then it shouldn't be your first choice."

WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?

"I'm of the humanoid sort."

NAME YOUR WORST HABITS.

"I, ah...am rather embarrassed to admit that I often pour myself another drink before finishing one I already have. It tends to slip my mind..."

DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL?

"There is an author I am absolutely enamored with, Bea Wilder. Her work has inspired me since I was a very young child. I recall picking up her novel Hair in the Spider's Web from the school library and reading the entirety of it in one day."

GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?

"I identify as bisexual, with a small preference for women."

DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?

"I graduated years ago. I was salutatorian, in fact."

DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY?

"Perhaps one day, but not in the near future. I believe I'm a bit young for marriage and children."

DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS?

"Not that I am aware of. Unless every pop star, actor and internet celebrity drops dead at once, I doubt the children would obsess over the likes of me."

WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?

"Death, naturally. It's the greatest unknown and that terrifies me."

WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?

"I typically wear a dark colored suit, two or three pieces. My favorite one is the one I'm wearing currently. Quite a beautiful shade of purple."

DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?

"I love my parents, as most do."

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF?

"I was four. Accidents happen."

WELL, IT’S NOT OVER YET!

"Very well."

WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS)

"Higher middle class. I live quite comfortably but I wouldn't call myself notably wealthy."

HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?

"I have very few friends, only one I speak to regularly, but they are very near and dear to my heart."

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE?

"I enjoy blackberry pie."

FAVOURITE DRINK?

"Black tea, no milk, no sugar. Especially in the morning with a light breakfast."

WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE?

"My study. It is my sanctuary."

ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE?

"Not currently, no."

WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY?

"That is a very inappropriate question and I will not be entertaining it."

WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN?

"Neither. Are you aware of how filthy that water can be? The types of parasitic creatures that thrive in it?"

WHAT’S YOUR TYPE?

"Intelligent, artistic and graceful."

ANY FETISHES?

"I will say this once, please refrain from asking these invasive questions."

SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?

"If you continue to pester me like this, I will ask you to leave. This is your final warning."

CAMPING OR INDOORS?

"Indoors. It's pleasantly warm and there are the conveniences of tea kettles, antibacterial soap and indoor plumbing."

ARE YOU WANTING THE QUIZ TO END?

"If it means you will not ask me about my sexual preferences, yes."

#male original character #male oc #oc ref sheet #oc reference #oc #original character #art

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 4 years

Text

Only For A Moment Epilogue

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: On a peaceful afternoon you reflect on the past couple of years while Bucky naps in your lap.

Warnings: None

A/N: Wow. Weird. Somehow more weird than posting the last chapter... Endings are strange things y’all. Only For A Moment is over, like really really over.

These two had an intense journey together throughout “Part One” and I’m really glad so many of you went on that ride with me. Now before we head into a new side of this story (and likely a new title) I thought it would be good to kind of post a little wrap up and something that can live with Part Two for those who maybe don’t want to read all of Part One and the drabbles.

As always, you’re all wonderful.

(P.S. If you’re seeing this and want to read Only For A Moment, the Master lives both on my profile and linked in the admin profile above.)

TAGS ARE OPEN

“Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature.”

The line from Frankenstein makes a lump rise in your throat. It feels like a lifetime ago that Mr. Goldstein quoted it to you in his cozy little bookshop in Bucharest. At the time it made you think of Bucky, the man whose depths you’d only skimmed. Now, a continent and a few years separated you both from the people you’d been as you stood in that shop.

You hadn’t read Frankenstein since your time in Romania but when you saw a copy in a bookshop in Wakanda you knew you had to have it. As you devoured the words you could almost smell the shop, hear the gentle cadence of Mr. Goldstein’s voice, feel the soft fur of the shop cat Victor.

It seemed wrong to feel homesick for Romania. Bucharest was supposed to be a stopgap, a place to lay low while you attempted to figure out what it meant to keep living your life after what Hydra had done.

There had been times there where you’d considered ending it, so tired of fighting and so unsure of what it was you were even fighting for. Your family - small and chosen and so precious to you - had been erased, any semblance of home destroyed. They’d even made you feel like a stranger in your own body, this body they honed to be their weapon. Hell, you could disassociate for days, just a ghost trapped in a shell she didn’t understand and didn’t want. It wasn’t like you were living so why go on?

But you did. Some part of you unwilling to let them win, hearing your brother Nix’s voice in your head reminding you that giving up meant letting the bastards win.

Then Bucky happened. A smile tugs at the edges of your mouth as you look away from the book pages to the lake sparkling in the later afternoon sun, remembering those early days.

He’d recognized you from your time in Hydra, though he hadn’t remembered the details until you talked about your first encounter - he’d tried to save you, and he did get you out of the facility, though you’d been caught days later. When he sought you out you hadn’t trusted him but it took mear hours for you to see your own reflection in him.

You were both broken, but in a way that only the other could truly understand. Bucky saw you, all sharp edges and shattered pieces, and didn’t flinch once.

It had been rough at times, each of you so terrified of what may come, of who may come, even of the people in the mirror. Still - despite nights punctuated with night terrors, days peppered with flashbacks, and moments of deep dissociation - you held tight to one another, weathering the storms as they came. It made you both stronger, together.

So, without meaning to you built something of a life in Bucharest. Days spent training for unknown battles to come or helping in the bookshop nights together watching old movies and learning bit by bit how to be human beings again.

For a time it had felt like enough.

Losing Mr. Goldstein had been the beginning of the end of your time there though. You’d both been in one place for too long and without the old man’s grounding warmth… well, there was nothing left to tie you down. Together you laid out a plan to start again in Vienna, fresh identities, a clean slate, still on the run but this time together. You never got there though - Helmut Zemo made sure of that.

A chill passes up your spine as you remember seeing Bucky’s face on the staticky TV at the laundromat, the terror that grabbed you as you watched SWAT descent on the home you’d shared. It had felt like the sky was falling.

Even now you struggled to comprehend how everything that followed had only taken a little more than a week. You’d chased them across Europe to get to Bucky only to watch in horror as his worse nightmare came true - being brought back under someone’s control, being The Soldier again - and been unable to stop it. From there you’d fought the goddamn Avengers, had your chest clawed open by someone who was now your friend, been arrested, tortured, rescued. It was one hell of a week.

The months that followed had hurt almost as much. You didn’t know where Bucky was, if he was truly safe, or what he was going to put himself through to make sure he wasn’t a threat to your safety ever again. Sometimes you thought you wanted to throttle him for leaving and others you knew you’d forgive him anything as long as you had him back.

There had been a few silver linings to your time apart because, well, nothing made close friends like being international fugitives.

After Steve, Natasha, and Hill sprung those who were interested from The Raft, yourself included, you’d laid low with what was left of The Avengers. They became your friends and, in Steve’s case, family. You trusted each of them, even Nick Fury, with your life and knew you’d give anything to protect them.

Leaving them behind had been hard. Even though it meant being with Bucky, even though it meant safety, the temptation to say no to T’Challa’s offer to shelter in Wakanda was stronger than you’d ever admit to anyone other than Steve.

At least Steve was able to visit here and there bringing updates and even letters from your wayward friends.

Sam bitched about Steve’s antics, how he had to cook everything with you gone, and always asked after your wellbeing. Natasha entertained you with explicit tales of her international exploits, proving that few could say no to her - in another life you certainly wouldn’t have been able to. Wanda’s letters were filled with questions you knew she didn’t ask anyone else - about love and loss and being different from those around you, sometimes it was easy to forget she was still so young.

A soft snore brings you back to the present. Bucky’s head rests on your thigh, sound asleep. The soft lapping of the lake, the humming of cicadas, the goats romping about - one munching on the remnants of your picnic - it was all so peaceful, this life you were building here. Gratitude didn’t even begin to cover how you felt.

You missed Sam, Wanda, Nat, Steve, even Hill, and Fury deeply but you’d forged strong bonds here in Wakanda too.

When you decided to stay you couldn’t have foreseen the sisterhood you shared with all of the Dora Milaje but especially Okoye. Without hesitation, she’d brought you into the fold, unfazed and, honestly, unimpressed with your ability. She trained you just as hard, if not harder than the rest of her soldiers - you had catching up to do after all - and made sure your training was varied so you were honing your power and your body at the same time. You’d come to not only respect her as a leader but to trust her deeply as a friend.

Much to Bucky’s chagrin you and T’Challa loved to poke fun at the fact that you’d basically all tried to kill one another when you first met. He found it far less amusing than the two of you did, but if you didn’t laugh about it what else could you do. T’Challa was a strong king, though you’d argue he was an even better man. You were often in awe at his level of compassion and wisdom.

Shuri, was honestly the most amazing human you’d ever encountered. You had to often remind yourself she was half your age, which wasn’t too hard when she brought up some new trend or artist you were completely unaware of - maybe you were getting old. Even if she tried to write it off, she’d given you Bucky back by doing what seemed impossible in removing the effects of decades of torture and conditioning. Then she went even further to help you understand your own inner workings in regards to your telekinetic abilities and the enhancements Hydra had forced on you.

There were so many others too. Nakia, though often out in the field, had become a fast friend. T’Challa and Shuri’s mother Ramonda, with her gentle welcoming spirit - she and Bucky had actually formed quite a bond. Even, M’Baku most days, was someone you’d welcome to your dinner table - only when it was a meatless night that was.

A grin makes your cheeks ache.

You’d been trying to convince T’Challa to allow Steve and the others to visit for the last few weeks. Just imagining Okoye, Natasha, and Nakia together was enough to make you giddy with excitement. And while the world may not survive it, the thought of Sam and M’Baku bantering was enough to make a little laugh bubble from your chest.

Bucky shifts in your lap a bit at the noise. Tenderly you pull a lock of this thick dark hair away from his face. Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by just how much you love this man with his gentle heart and easy smile.

You’d endured a fraction of what he had and it was almost enough to destroy you. But James Barnes was made of far stronger stuff than most. Nothing they did had truly broken him, you suspected there was nothing in this world that could.

Tears sting your eyes.

“Doll?” Bucky’s soft voice almost startles you. Looking down into his grey-blue eyes, you force yourself to swallow more tears. “Sweetheart, what is it?” His fingers, calloused but so very gentle, wipe a tear from your cheek.

“Just happy,” you say with a shaky voice.

It was more than that. This was the happiest you had ever been in your life. For the first time, you looked toward the future with hope and excitement without the looming shadows of fear and uncertainty threatening.

Maybe you’d grow old on this little farm, Bucky caring for the goats and helping out others in the area, you working with the Dora Milaje maybe finding some new passion to pursue. Or maybe you’d move into the city, convince Bucky to take classes, maybe in literature or creative writing. Maybe a little of both.

Maybe you could figure out a way for Steve and the others to be granted refuge in Wakanda as well. The idea makes you dream of Friendsgiving meals, potluck Sundays, and movie nights.

“I’m glad, baby,” he says with a sweet smile.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky fluff #bucky fic

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headoverhiddles · 5 years

Text

Mephistopheles of Los Angeles - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut] (Part II)

Synopsis: After the kiss, it’s impossible to avoid the press. But behind closed doors, there’s no reason to deny that you two have a connection. AKA Marilyn invites you and Johnny over to his place for a night of fun.

Notes: Third and final part coming soon! Also, I love comments :)

PART I

PART III

You sit up by your window, watching the pool glisten. You can't come out and say anything-- he was probably drunk. But, you two did have that magnificent conversation before the drinks came around... there was definitely a connection there.

As if you two shared a mind, just as you're about to pick up the phone to call Johnny, his ID shows up on your screen.

"Hey," you say.

"Morning, sunshine," he says, his voice cracking from an obvious hangover, "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

You groan, sliding the curtains shut and blocking out the sun. He laughs.

"Hey, what if--" Just then, someone else starts to call through. It's an unknown number. You really shouldn't answer, you being who you are... but there's a glimmer of misplaced hope inside you, leftover from last night maybe.

"I'll call you back, kay?" you mumble, and swipe on the call. "Yeah?"

"Hey." It's him, deep, gravelly voice and all.

"Hey." You pull your feet up to your chest. "What's going on?"

"I was hoping-- I got your number from Depp by the way, so I'm not a stalker-- that you guys'd come over to my place, like, tomorrow night. Night before your premiere. We could celebrate properly."

"Sounds great," you smile. "How are you not hungover?"

"I am, I'm just a good faker." He pauses. "It felt good to unwind with you last night. I... appreciate company like yours. I also appreciate that that was the sexiest kiss I've had in like, ten years." That's all he says, then he hangs up. Sober, he's a very somber person... but his drunk side shines through every now and then it seems. Smirking, you stand, and start to think about a shower. Johnny will probably be getting a call next.

The next night, the three of you are situated in Marilyn's living room, the thermostat set to cool air and a low soundtrack of David Bowie floating in the background.

"Cherry. Blood red. So we can pretend we're vampires." A pyramid of jello boxes sit on his counter top, three bottles of Absinthe that would be used instead of water.

"We basically are," Johnny comments idly, watching a fly crawl along the counter.

"Or, or we can pretend we're eating flesh," Marilyn continues, shaking one packet out into the bowl, "Absinthe and flesh. Or we can pretend (y/n) is menstruating, and--"

Both you and Johnny groan loud enough to drown out the rock star's ravings, and finally he concedes, adding the absinthe (mostly) silently. Ultimately however, Johnny is unable to restrain himself from pitching in. "Who would want to eat a woman out on her period though?"

"You'd be surprised," you answer that one, swinging your legs over Marilyn's velvet couch.

"I wouldn't mind it," Marilyn offered, licking the cherry goop off his tattooed fingers, "If I was like, an actual vampire."

This sets Johnny off again, and as he's laughing, you saunter up to Marilyn, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

"And what if you weren't a vampire?"

"You mean if I didn't need to stick my tongue in a reservoir of ovum littered blood?"

"Yes."

"Well, I know girls get aroused on their period, because their hormones are raging. So if my girl was horny as fuck for me on her period and wanted me to eat her pussy, I mean, I wouldn't say no."

You pat his cheek. "A true gentleman."

"I've always wondered this-- when you fuck a girl on her period and she cums, is it like a dam of blood breaking?"

"What, like the parting of the red sea?" Johnny frowns. Marilyn considers this.

"More like... Titanic, but... the Titanic is your dick."

"Completely false," you say, and both guys look over to you, legitimately interested. "It's the opposite. At least for me. The blood stops for a bit, then... comes back with a vengeance once all your wetness has returned from whence it came."

"Very interesting, love," Johnny says, getting up and pouring himself another drink.

"I love being educated in the vaginal arts," Marilyn says, making obscene slurping noises as he licks the rest of his fingers clean.

As the night wears on the three of you (plus Lily) put down bottle after bottle, smoke a couple of joints, and finish the red coagulated creation. Once two AM hits, the conversation deepens, and the guitar breaks out.

"It's gonna be hell for you answering questions about those pictures this weekend, (y/n)," Johnny says, strumming the acoustic instrument.

"I know. The questions I get are so dumb, I've already had a billion asking about you and me and if we're dating. Just because two people play love interests--"

"And have fabulous onscreen chemistry," Johnny adds.

"Yes, doesn't mean we should get... shipped!" Angrily, you exhale a cloud of smoke, the joint hanging lazily between your fingers.

"It's because the media's bullshit consists of asking why male artists do what they do, and asking female artists why they fuck who they fuck," Marilyn mutters candidly, stealing the joint.

"Load of crap," Johnny nods, playing a riff of The Beautiful People.

"I like you... though," Marilyn mumbles, glancing your way.

"I like you too," you blink.

"I would've fucked you y'know... if the paparazzi weren't such cockblocking motherfuckers..."

"I know. When it comes to the press though, we've gotta make it look like an accident if they did get pictures."

"Which they did," Johnny nodded, "I already saw one this morning titled "Chateau Marmont's Wild Nightlife: Johnny Depp blazes one while rising co-star and shock-rocker best friend get 'cheeky' in the bushes." Now we've got not only rumours about you and me to deal with but you and this fuck." This makes Marilyn laugh.

"I'm just known as the best friend now? Wow." He touches his wow tattoo, holding it up.

"You're faded, man."

"Faded, faithful, and fuckin' fatal."

"They make me look like a fucking stoner now, so I'm not much better."

"You are a fucking stoner."

"I'm Jack Sparrow, mate."

"You're a fucking stoner."

You just roll your eyes as they bicker. You remember what your agent told you-- if it's not purposefully publicized, it's messy, and messy doesn't sell. Guess that's what it's like in the Hollywood dating pool.

"Nah, but of course we've gotta deny all of it," Marilyn sighs. "It would blow up your career in a not-good way cause they'd say this young, impressionable starlet is dating a satanist, or whatever they call me, and I don't really feel like answering a billion stupid questions about you either at this point, not when I'm trying to promote my record. They're going crazy over this cause you're so popular right now, (y/n). It'll be all over People and the internet and shit."

"Covering personal shit is the worst part of this job," Johnny mutters. "Unless it's a story about smuggling cocaine into the Pirates premiere."

"Wasn't that at Disneyland?" you frown.

Marilyn and Johnny both nod noncommittally.

"Worth it," Johnny says, holding his guitar with one hand and flicking a piece of the blood red Jell-O onto the ceiling with a spoon.

"Clean that up," Marilyn grins.

"Lick it off, mate," Johnny laughs. It suddenly falls, and with a jiggle, lands between your breasts. You yelp as it splatters into your cleavage, and the two men fall to the floor laughing.

"Mmmmhmmhmm," Marilyn smiles, crawling over to you on his hands and knees with tipsy half-lidded eyes, "I think I will lick it off." He straddles you on the armchair, one leg on either side, and puts his face into your tits, his tongue sweeping deep licks between, up, down, ugh...

"Fuck, you're making me horny," you whisper. Johnny giggles, standing and snatching a small bag and heading up to Marilyn's pool patio with his guitar.

"See you two in the morning."

"Don't drown," you call up.

"I don't want to have to clean up your chlorine bloated corpse in the morning," Marilyn adds.

"I will leave you the sexiest corpse you could possibly imagine, brother," Johnny calls back down, stumbling up the stairs. You and Marilyn turn your attention back to one another.

"Your tits taste good," he comments, eyes flickering lazily back down to them.

"My pussy tastes even better," you grin, taking his hand and sliding it down between your legs. He rubs it against you, and comes up with slick fingers.

"Bedroom."

His bed is covered in black silk sheets, a satin cover blanketed overtop of them. Messy piles of books and records litter the floor, and creepy artefacts you wouldn't want to see with a light on surround everything on bookshelves.

"You have blacklights?" you ask, looking around the dark, mysterious room.

"To admire the cum shots on the ceiling," he clarifies.

"Oh, is that all?"

"--But I don't like to call it cum, I like to call it... making wet in you," he giggles.

"Mmm, make wet in me?"

"I would love to make wet in you."

Before you can say anything else, he grabs you by the hips, shoving you forward onto the bed. You land on your stomach, and he stands behind you as you turn your head.

"Take your panties off," he says in a low, level voice, as if he had sobered up in seconds. You feel your bratty side coming out.

"What if I don't?"

He lifts his chin up, looking like a king. "Get on your hands and knees... arch your back and present your ass for me. It's a really pretty ass, I just wanna look at it. Promise."

You do so, and wait in the darkness. After a second, you feel his tongue dart out, licking a stripe up your panties from behind. Then he smacks your ass hard. "Ohgod," you whisper, and he smiles.

"You look so good like this." You flip over, and crawl up to the headboard, hanging on. "Why don't you spread your legs for daddy?"

"Why don't you spread them for me, daddy? I'm a little bit tired."

"Lazy little bitch," he mumbles, sliding his hand between your legs. It rests on your knee, then you feel the pressure of him parting your thighs. He rolls over on top of you, and for a moment, you think he's going to instigate a kiss. You part your lips, waiting for him. Instead, he slides down like a snake between those parted thighs and hooks his fingers into your panties.

"Just lick around them," you smirk, biting your lip.

"Uh, uh. I want to enjoy my meal," he drawls, and pulls them off down to your ankle.

"Eat my pussy good, baby."

"Oh, I plan to."

"Gonna fuck me after that?"

"You know I am, kitten."

He delves between your folds again, making low noises. His hands reach up to grope and grab at whatever they can; your hips, your breasts, your inner thighs. After a moment, you gasp as he slips two fingers into you, then three, fucking you rough with them.

"That's--" You gasp, grinding into his face, "That's so good..."

He hums, the vibration of his lips against your clit driving you wild.

"How fuckin' close are you?" he hisses.

"So fucking close," you whine.

"Cum for me. Make wet... in my face."

"God, you're gonna ruin my ladyboner by saying shit like that!"

A few more masterful circles of his tongue however, and you do cum, gripping the boards for dear life.

"Grab my--" he murmurs, "Grab my hair, love it when it's-- oh, tugged--"

Your hands fly to his hair, and you tug the short black locks as he fucks you with his tongue through your orgasm. Giving you a moment to breathe, he flashes his dark glare up between your legs, eyes shining almost demonically in the dark.

"Fuck me, Brian," you breathe. He crawls up on top of you, holding you by your shoulders as he guides his dick between your legs. When he finally pushes in, he gives a grunt as you moan, wrapping your legs around his ass.

"So fucking good," he groans, and you bite into his shoulder.

"Ohhh yeah, oh yeah," you moan, and he suddenly pulls out.

"Back on your hands and knees, kitten." You obey this time, fucked out but wanting more. He smacks your ass again, and you moan, wiggling back. He spanks you again, and again, and you bite your fist. "Nah, nah," he whispers, "I wanna hear you. Get fuckin' loud, scream it out."

You very nearly scream as he spanks you again, and presses soft kisses up your back, turning into hickies by the top between your shoulder blades.

"Wanna ride you," you breathe. Wordlessly, he lays down, and you roll over top of him, getting into reverse cowgirl position. With another gasp, you sink down over his big cock, and roll your hips.

"That's good," he groans, "Fuckkkk yeah, that's good."

"Daddy, daddy--" you gasp.

"Daddy's gonna make you cum," he whispers, reaching up and around to squeeze your breast. He sits up, so that his chest is pressed to your back, and the angle makes you moan even louder. "I gotchu," he whispers in your ear, "I gotchu, I gotchu, gonna take real good care of you... cause you're takin real good care of me..."

You nearly sob as you reach back and grab his hair, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you had done with him. You feel a bit of blood drip, and cum hard. Marilyn increases his pace as he feels you gush around his cock, pounding you harder than ever. Skin slaps against skin as he fucks you on his lap, and your orgasm keeps burning through you as he mumbles growled-out words of praise.

When you finally come back down to earth, he's pressing kisses to the bite mark, which felt good in the moment, but stings like hell now.

"Guess you're a real fucking vampire, Manson," you giggle. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, laughing.

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dropsofletters · 5 years

Text

action, romance or comedy?

title: action, romance or comedy? pairing: lee jeno/reader genre: cinema worker!au/accidental texting!au/strangers to lovers!au summary: jeno hates college, and loves movies more than he should, so when he is reminded at eleven at night that he has a project to complete and it is worth a big percentage of the final grade—he texts whoever he has been paired up with. two bad things happen: he texts the wrong person and he fails that class, but the good thing that comes from that event is comforting enough. type: fluff

The smell of popcorn lingers in the air, and somehow it is relaxing. The sound of special effects in the background, typical of an action movie, is barely even heard by the two workers of the night shift at the cinema. Normally, the young man with the bleached blonde hair stood by the entrance of the auditoriums, checking tickets and then watching movies without paying for them. At all. However, there is something in the air, like when he knows something bad will happen but all he can do is scroll through his phone. He clicks on the Instagram app, then he checks his texts, he looks through his pictures to see if there is anything new, but he is only met with ridiculous pictures of his best friends.

Lee Jeno would say that he is happy—when he watches a new movie, imagines what it would be like if he would be a very famous movie reviewer with a nice blog and a lot of following, or when he is out with friends feeling like youth lasts forever. Yet, to ever get to be the adult-type of happy, he has to go through college. Sure, he is some film major that adores spending his time catching up with the newest productions in all genres of movies, but he absolutely hates that semester’s professors. All methodical, very lost in theories and theories when film should be all about creation. Creativity, but not the type artists have with pens and colors, or the ones singers have with their voices…the one that comes with a camera-roll and a script normally written by someone else.

He thought it would be fun, you know? But it really isn’t.

With his cheek pressed against his forearm, he rests his upper body on the counter near the snack store. His coworker, Jaemin, is drinking his normal cup of coffee—Jeno, however, calls it monoxide in liquid form, and he barely even pays attention to him, since he is lost in his thoughts…pondering what it is that bothers him. He is not hungry, so that shall not be the problem. He is also not heartbroken, for his latest relationship ended thanks to him. Jeno is also not feeling particularly bad physically. He is healthy, and he is wearing the same uniform as always. Dark cap with the movie theater’s logo on it, a polo that matched it with the same logo and black jeans, along with sneakers. Nothing fancy, but not uncomfortable.

The problem is…that his Google Calendar app pops up out of nowhere, and maybe it is God talking, or destiny, or just Google being his savior time and time again—but it hits him like a piano falling on top of him, like how it happens in cartoons. He has a project to deliver, and he is supposed to be working with this one dude in his class. Ryo…Suke? Maybe, Jeno thinks his name is Ryosuke. All he knows about him is that he wears a very expensive Rolex watch to class and that he is the typical representation of an exchange student. Very rich, extremely cool, and with the most gorgeous car—

The project is worth fifty percent of his grade, and if that is not a red sign to skip the next few hours of work to get to do it then what would be? Nonetheless, Jeno really thinks about it. Ryosuke must be a responsible guy, and he is dating one of the most intelligent people on campus—this one nursery school dude that Jeno does not really know about. Besides, Jeno would actually lose his job if his boss ever did so much as visit the cinema only to find Jaemin alone.

So the only answer to this issue is texting Ryosuke and ask him how the project is doing and if he needs help, right?

The best thing that could happen would be Ryosuke telling Jeno that it is already finished.

An hour passes by, and as Jeno watches another set of people getting out of one of the auditoriums, he picks up his phone to find zero to no messages. He tries calling, but he always goes back to the voice-mail. His patience is wearing thin, and he really just wants to get out of there and make some half-assed project, but he can’t entirely do that for reasons that he already knows. He places his phone down on the counter, sighing deeply and listening to Jaemin say something about how he ‘needs to relax or he is going to get wrinkles early on in his life’, but there is not a single cell in Lee Jeno’s body that seems to mind. All he wants is some kind of response, and to pass that class that has been bothering him with vigorous will.

His phone vibrates, almost in cue, and Jeno thinks that he hears the sound of angels singing in the background when he sees that Ryosuke had replied. His eyes in the shape of half-moons meet the text, his smile dropping entirely when he sees the continuous question marks and then a small: “Uh…wrong number. I’m not Ryosuke. In fact, I’m not a dude haha.”

Jeno does not find it funny and maybe, he should have taken a second or two to think, breathe, understand what is going on—and that he could have made a mistake, over all. Either way, Jeno acts irrationally, typing down on his phone with his thumbs. “It’s not funny. Dude, we have a project due tomorrow and I have not done anything. I can’t do anything, either, because I’m working. Can you be serious and talk about this with me?”

The response comes almost soon after, and when he reads it…he feels the sudden need to throw his cap on the floor and stomp over it childishly. He is angered, fervently trying his hardest not to call Ryosuke and scream directly to his face. “First off, dude, lay off. I’m not that Ryosuke guy, and I think you should really not treat people like this. Good night.”

Jeno’s face softens, imagining who the person on the other end is. The other people is probably confused, just as angered as he is but for different reasons and it is entirely surprising how life has parallels right in front of our eyes and we never truly realize. In the background, he hears the sound of some rap song faintly playing in the distance as he continues the conversation with a complete stranger. “Wait, you’re for real?”

“I am.” This supposed woman replies and Jeno presses his palm to his forehead, with his cheeks tinted in a pretty shade of pink as he thinks of how ridiculous he had been with his spamming messages. Jaemin takes notice of that, taking off his hat and hitting Jeno with it directly on his head, making the man with the lighter hair look up at him with a scrunched up nose.

Before Jeno could speak against Jaemin’s actions, however, his coworker speaks up. “Why are you sulking? If you really need to get that project done, I can steal the boss’ laptop for like a second or two and we can just do some half-assed thing. It’s no big deal.” While Jaemin’s idea is incredible—and he might end up doing such thing so save his grade—he picks up his phone as a response, giving it to Jaemin without much context, only taking a few seconds to start talking about it.

“I thought I had gotten Ryosuke’s number right…and I texted him all these things.” His fingers keep scrolling down on the insane amount of messages he had sent before he got a response. “And finally, this person told me they were not a dude and that I got it wrong and I snapped, so…this ends up badly for me because I was a total dickhead to a complete stranger and I am too embarrassed to keep the conversation.”

Jaemin chuckles, his cheeks lifting up by the action before he starts typing something down on the conversation. “I have the perfect idea.”

“J-Jaemin! Hey, dude, give me my phone back! What are you doing?” Something deep within him tells him not to trust Jaemin, but it is too late. Once he gets his phone back, a text has already been sent and by Jaemin’s boisterous laugh, it must be ridiculous. Jeno squints his eyes, taking his phone in his hands with outer fear. “I swear, Jaemin, if you did something bad—I am leaving you dick-less, right here, right now.”

His coworker can only shrug his shoulders, pointing at his phone with his left hand. “Go ahead. Take a peak.”

Jeno unlocks his phone, welcomed by the sight of the text conversation that he had left abandoned. His eyes widen when he sees something corny, unlike himself, but so much like how Na Jaemin has been in the entirety of his life. “I am so sorry. I must have ruined your night, but thank you for being nice enough to tell me you weren’t my classmate. I hope you have an excellent night as well, dream of the sweetest things, like yourself.” With a deep groan, Jeno pushes Jaemin’s shoulder and the young man can only smirk. “What even is this?! I don’t know this girl—and she wasn’t even sweet to start with.”

“I am trying to get you a girlfriend.”

“Yeah right, like I will find a girlfriend because of an accidental text—”

“You never know!” Jaemin comments before putting on his cap. “Besides, you need something good in your life…because you’re totally failing that project. I can tell you that much.”

The blonde haired guy rubs his temples, letting out an exhausted sigh that mixed in well with Monday mornings where people have to wake up early. “Just tell the boss to lend me his laptop so I can get that project done.”

“That’s my responsible baby.” Jaemin coos to make his friend even more annoyed, running his fingers over his cheek before chuckling as he waltzes away from the counter.

Luckily for him, he finishes the project. And even more luck comes his way when he doesn’t get a response from that unknown girl.

📷

June is just not Jeno’s month.

April had been one of his good months, with nice grades and a good haircut and definitely not a few strands of his hair going dry thanks to his newest hair-color. January had been filled with parties and gathering around with family and friends, eating more than he should with snacks from all over the world—for the first time in a while, he felt like he could finally relax. But June, the damned twin of July, is just getting to his nerves. First, he almost fails that one project that had leaded him to texting a person that he doesn’t even know—and the night before that, Jaemin had decided to awkwardly text said girl—and Ryosuke got two more points than him from some kind of privilege that he does not really know about.

He can’t deny it, that June isn’t his month, when he is riding on his motorcycle—an old thing that can barely keep up with his rendezvous from the college’s campus to the movie theater and then back to his shared apartment, sometimes accompanying him to a party or two, and the pouring rain is falling on top of his helmet. Jeno’s blonde strands of hair stick to his face as he tries his best to go as carefully as possible, barely even moving in the middle of the night after a tiresome day full of tests, and a night filled with movies that he has already seen a hundred times.

The engine vibrates, then he hears some kind of rhythm that leads to his motorcycle coming to a halt. The man gasps, broken and surprised as he tries to turn it on once again, the blinking sign the reminder that he had forgotten to fuel his motorcycle, mocking him with its red color and its constant movement. He gets off the car, turning on the lights so, at least, at the very least someone can see him—a good twenty minutes away from his apartment.

“Okay…okay…it’s okay…” Jeno breathes to himself in a mumble as he takes his phone out of his backpack, using his jacket as a shelter for the screen as he looks through his seas of contacts to see whom he should call. Maybe, he should go for his oldest roommate—Dongyoung, always one to help him with everything that he ever wishes for. He tries to think of someone else, but when he comes up with nothing, he presses the green button under Dongyoung’s contact. His mother is also an option to consider, but the least he wants is a car ride filled with scolding that goes along the lines of ‘You’re already nineteen, Jeno! Shouldn’t you know that you need to fuel your motorcycle?!’

The phone rings twice and thankfully, Dongyoung picks up. “Jeno, dude, uh…sorry…is it anything important? I’m in the middle of something—”

“Yes! Dongyoung, my motorcycle died on me because I forgot to fuel—”

“What?” Dongyoung mumbles before clearing his throat. “I’m in the middle of class. The professor asked us to come here at nine…and I don’t get out until eleven.”

The phone reads 10:14 and Jeno really wants to cry for a moment. “Oh…no, it’s okay. I will try to push it to the apartment.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries.” Jeno holds his jacket over his head as he speaks before hanging up the phone. A raged sigh leaves his lips until he places his phone back on his pocket, cringing at the feeling of the damp clothing over his body touching his skin and making him shiver. All he wanted was getting home and eating some of his favorite spicy chips…and now he is there, pushing his own motorcycle with huffing breaths. “Seriously?” He speaks to no one before pushing even harder. “Don’t you want to, like, throw a ray at me or something? To make this night even better?”

The muscles of his arms start to become sore with the pushing of his motorcycle, his deltoids taking all the weight before he hears a sound coming from far away. The streets are almost alone, only for that one car that passes by while loudly playing the sound of Sik-K’s song (probably Iffy with how many times the word is repeated). The car passes by quickly, only that it stops when the person behind the steering wheel sees the sight of Jeno pushing his motorcycle. The person hesitates, going back to park beside Jeno before they pull the windows down.

For a moment, Jeno is prepared to scream at the top of his lungs in case it is a robber, but he is welcomed by the sight of a woman that looked pretty, with a flannel on and the heater on that created a warm atmosphere, past her beautiful eyes and her candid smile that is not really there. Her lips are painted a cute shade of red, fading thanks to the drink she is having—something like a Latte, most likely. Jeno widens his eyes in surprise when he gets questioned: “Hey, what happened to your motorcycle?”

Jeno licks his lips and his cheeks burn, perhaps because he is totally going to get sick with the rain that is pouring down on him or because she is really pretty, and definitely trying to help him. “Forgot to fuel it.”

The woman hums, turning off the radio entirely before saying: “Stop there. Let me park correctly.” And Jeno barely has the time to register what she said before he follows her instructions, watching her park in front of his motorcycle before getting out of her car with a raincoat on. She opens the back door of her car, pulling something out before walking towards Jeno. “I have some fuel here. You know what to do, right?”

Somehow, he thinks he has seen a goddess and he can’t help but grin widely at the sight of the bottle in her hands. “Yes! Yes! Thank you!” Jeno takes the product from her hands before doing a half-bow, going over to his motorcycle to finally get out of that hell. “I…I normally fuel it…but I have been having such a stressful set of weeks that I actually don’t know what I am doing anymore.”

She chuckles at that, crossing her arms over her chest to look at the man in front of her, kneeled beside his motorcycle to complete his task. “I get you. We all have those days.” Then, her eyes trail over his figure, soaked from head to toe—even though he is wearing a black polo underneath paired with dark jeans, his jacket is dripping from water and his shoes squeak whenever he moves. Her heart aches, somehow, even when his factions are set on fueling his motorcycle. Half-moons as eyes, lips thin and a tall nose to match. “I think I also have an old raincoat somewhere in the backseat. It’s kind of…not that good, but it could work for you—”

Jeno looks at her with surprise in his eyes. “No! No, this is already enough. Please, don’t bother.”

“It’s a Hello Kitty raincoat. It’s totally not a bother.” The young man chuckles at her words when he gets a glimpse of her body leaning against her car to catch that Hello Kitty raincoat that she was talking about. “I think I have it since high school or something…I never got rid of it. Maybe, it was destined to be for you.”

“I…don’t think so.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jeno.”

“Yes. Definitely destined for you.” She chuckles before taking the raincoat in between her hands. “That’s the name of someone who would love this raincoat.”

“My mom picked it for me. I didn’t know it meant that.” Jeno jokes back and he hears the soft sound of her laughter, mixed with the rain that is starting to die down, like a flower in the middle of winter. He feels the fabric of the raincoat falling on top of his shoulder, folded for him to put on if he feels like it. “You’re too good for a stranger. I’m starting to think you’re going to kidnap me.”

She sighs. “No, absolutely not!” Though, her tone is sincere. When Jeno looks at her, finished with his task that will help him finally going back home, he realizes that her eyelashes are bathed in small drops of rain and that her mouth, although quirked in a tiny smile, almost goes unseen to the people that don’t look from near. He pushes his wet hair back with his hands, putting on the raincoat that stays snugly against his shoulders. “I am a huge believer of doing good and getting something good in return.” His fingers push against the broken skin beside his nails, appearing like ungodly beings to bother his days. Jeno ponders, then, if maybe he is the exception of the rule. He does well in life, and then again he is always welcomed by little surprises that are not particularly excellent.

“That’s a good way of thinking.”

“Hello Kitty stuff is definitely meant to go with you.”

“Huh? Thanks…that’s…that’s a first time. I’ve never heard that.” His hand rubs the back of his neck and then, with a gleeful smile that could be shown in history books as the reason why wars ended, he finishes the conversation. “Gotta head back home now. Thank you. Really. I can totally pay for what you just did—”

“It’s not necessary.” She replies, like a knight in a shining armor for him and he breathes out with a starry gaze. “I’ll just head back now. Please, get home safe.”

Jeno promises, silently and softly, that he will with a simple gaze and a nod. She hides her hands in her pockets after blowing on them, whispering awkwardly the delicate words that mean their departure. “Thank you. Have a good night!”

She laughs at the sight of the guy, cladded in a Hello Kitty raincoat, with a grin that will forever be engraved in her brain and she replies with a similar sentence. Jeno might not be the luckiest guy, he is very far away from being so, but blessed shall the beauty of people be when they still remain happy after terrible encounters, that have smiles that shine brighter than a million golden dust particles that join in a desert. Those people, absentmindedly, make days for other individuals way easier—even if they don’t realize it.

📷

“Jeno.”

“Yes?”

“Jeno.”

“I’m listening.”

“Je to the No.”

“Jaemin, I swear I’m paying attention—”

“Jeno—”

Life is testing Jeno’s patience, and he is starting to run low on a lot of things. Motivation…and that one thing that has to do with time and accepting just how annoying waiting really is, or comprehending people that are clearly a pain in the ass. Jeno’s back is hunched, watching a movie thanks to the half-opened door of the auditorium, and while he would love to concentrate on the thriller that he is watching, Jaemin is calling for his attention. A grin is on Jaemin’s face and when Jeno inspects him, he realizes that there is something different. No—Jaemin is still wearing the same uniform as always, cap and polo that matches Jeno’s, and no…Jaemin has not whitened his teeth or dyed his hair a different color (it is still the same bland brown as last year), but what is unlike him is that he is holding Jeno’s phone. And that doesn’t particularly make him mad, but what angers him is that Jaemin has unlocked his phone.

The man is smiling even brighter, shaking the device in front of Jeno’s face. “You finally got a text back from the mysterious girl that I’m trying to pair you up with.”

The girl whom Jaemin had texted four weeks ago; because Jeno is incapable of doing such an embarrassing thing without getting at least one thing in return: money or a shit load of money. The blond male squints his eyes, taking the phone from Jaemin’s hold to look at the text, but before he says: “How did you figure out my password? You’re totally a stalker, dude—”

“Jeno…using the year you were born as your password is a classic. I just figured it out.” Jeno chuckles at that, because it is better to face life with a smile than living it with a frown. His fingers hover over the screen before he pushes on the unknown number that he had texted accidentally, only that he had changed the contact’s name from ‘Ryosuke’ to ‘Not Ryosuke’. If that is not embarrassing, he does not know what is. He is met with the sight of a text, as if she had completely ignored what he had written beforehand, and that is probably what happened.

“How do you deal with a friend that makes you feel like you’re less but they are your only friend and you don’t know how to get away from them? Hah, sorry for asking, I just really need someone to talk to…and you’re a stranger…so…”

“What does it say?!” Jaemin tries to peek, and Jeno is surprised that Jaemin had not tried to at least get a glimpse of what the text said. Jeno’s heart is aching, however, because he has been lucky enough to have friends that love him, and that he loves back. He has never been in such a position, thankful of not feeling lonely most of the time, though there are some days when it can’t be helped. Jeno shushes him, turning around so his back is facing Jaemin and his phone in trapped between a corner and himself.

“That’s my problem.” He hears Jaemin whining somewhere behind him, but like always, Jaemin does not really care about a lot of things. His fingers continue to stand awaiting for his brain to come up with a response, and he reads the message again. Perhaps, it is something similar to having that one class you really study hard for…and yet everyone else is better than you. Jeno can relate to that, now. Then, he types down: “I think you should pull away from those type of people. I don’t know you, but I know you shouldn’t feel like you’re less than anyone. If a person makes you feel like that, they are not worth hanging out with.”

Perhaps, somewhere in that city, cladded in sheets on their bed while waiting for a response is a woman that needs a friend—a person that is watching a movie with a lost gaze in their eyes while her brain comes up with millions of insecurities and a bad comment to herself along the way. It happens to everyone, and if Jeno is able to help anyone go through that, he will. His assumptions are proven right, however, when he is introduced to a new text almost immediately. “But I won’t have anyone to talk to…and I don’t know, I don’t want to be lonely.”

Jeno frowns at that, typing without really thinking: “It’s better to be alone than to hang out with people that make you feel bad!” He writes that down before he realizes that he feels some kind of sympathy towards this woman, and he feels like he really needs to do something good to receive amazing things in life. For that, he follows the advice from the woman with the Hello Kitty raincoat, and he continues this conversation: “Besides, whenever you feel lonely, just text me! When you’re free, when you’re bored, whenever!”

The answer comes quickly: “Yeah? Then…what are you doing now?”

There are people made to be doctors. There are people made to be nurses. There are teachers that show the importance of concepts, and there are paychecks that complete the tasks of all these people. However, the importance of healing goes past a career, past medicines and shots, it comes from the power of words or visuals. Jeno has seen movies that have healed him, and he wants to be that for someone—even if it is only one person that considers him more than just another mindless person in the world.

He fulfills his promise of talking to her whenever he can, basking on long conversations about their favorite music styles, what bothers them and what doesn’t, what is their favorite season and others things. He learns that she enjoys summer because winter changes her mood entirely, and Jeno tells her about that one time he accidentally let his friend’s phone fall to the floor when it was tossed at him and he had his first fist fight (even though Donghyuck forgave him after he bought ice cream for the two). It is an ongoing conversation, without ‘goodbyes’ or ‘good night’s’. It is all about finding a friend in a stranger, and while people are used to meeting each other by views…either in life or physically, Jeno finds this way of meeting someone a little bit more interesting.

📷

He’s going to say it now: Jeno fucking hates—despises, really—projects. Much more when he has the luck of getting the most stupid of topics, or the worst of days to present it, or simply anything that goes against his will. This time around, a huge project was asked for one of his signatures and they had to be extremely creative—record a video that introduced a place as if it was a movie scene, showcasing edits, colors and filters. Basically, whatever they wanted. Some of his classmates got buildings, or parks, or aesthetic spots like coffee shops to make a romantic type of introduction in the video. Jeno almost felt like he was going to fail when he got told that he got a thrift store as his spot for recording.

He wanted to scream at the professor that it would have been better to assign him the dollar store. It would basically have the same amount of fabric to cut for him to record that video, and movie-style to say the least. However, Jeno sucked it up and wrote down the address to the thrift store his professor had told him about before promising himself that he was going to start on the project early so he could do some kind of magic to come up with something remotely acceptable. So, one day after he gets assigned such place, he picks up his camera and some equipment, placing them inside his backpack and driving as carefully as possible in his motorcycle—after all, he doesn’t want his camera equipment to go flying away from his motorcycle onto the road.

Once he gets to the thrift store, the first thing he sees is a row of clothes, from fluffy coats to long ones to leather jackets. There are old pictures from very old American bands hanging from the walls and he feels like the tacky beige color of the store is what bothers him the most, but he will have to really think about what he wants to do. His ears perk up when he hears a familiar song, the same chorus that he had heard when his motorcycle died on him, something along the lines of ‘iffy’ and his mind is immediately reminded of two people: the girl that helped him with his motorcycle and the girl behind the texts, who also adores Sik-K’s music.

He walks further into the store, rubbing his hands together, cladded in his sweater paws. He whistles softly, trying to catch the attention of the people working there, being met by the sight of a person that he has seen once in his life, but that he would recognize anywhere. She is no different, still with her pretty eyes looking thoughtful and lost in their own will, carrying a bag towards a taller and younger looking guy—his nametag says Jisung, and her nametag has him repeating her name inside his head to remember. The guy by the counter is the first one to notice him, and by the time he turns to look at the now-purple-haired Jeno, he lets the box fall to the floor with a bang.

“Jisung!” She hisses as she hits Jisung’s shoulder with the palm of her hand.

“Sorry, sorry!” He apologizes as he bends down to pick up what had fallen out of the box. She fixes her shirt, lifting her gaze to be met by Jeno—that same guy that she had helped in the road like two months ago. He comes closer, waving at her and by the look in her eyes, she must have thought something about his hair, for she takes a look at it. In his mind, Jeno thinks she has just realized he went from a bleached blonde to a soft lavender, but perhaps she is thinking about how he looks exactly like a bath bomb.

“You’re…wow…hi!” She introduces, leaning forward on the counter and smiling happily at the sight of Jeno. “You’re Jeno, the guy with the motorcycle.”

“I am. I would love to say the same thing with your name, but I don’t really know it.” Jeno adds and she shakes her head with a laugh, telling him her name slowly but he already knew it, given thanks to the nametag on her shirt. He sees the screen of the computer by the counter, a YouTube playlist showing a lot of hits from the rapper that seems to have a lot of fans. If two people he knows are huge fans of him, that is something big. “I take it you’re still not over that song?”

Embarrassment pokes at her cheeks and she sighs. “If I like something, I really like it. It’s rare for me to get over things.” She replies casually and Jeno nods his head, resting his hands on the counter to lean forward. Then, he feels someone’s gaze over his face and he realizes that the other worker is glancing at him.

“That’s good.” He adds with a smile, completely ignoring the guy that is unabashedly looking at him. “Uh…this might sound really awkward, but I have a project to complete. Basically, I have to take some good shots of this thrift store, movie style and I would ask for your permission to record here.”

“That’s fine with me. I don’t think there is a rule against that…” She answers and then, she rests her chin on the palm of her hand, elbow flushed against the surface of the counter. “What kind of project is it? Schoolwork?”

“I’m a film major.” What once Jeno had boosted on—his major and how good he is at it—is now his biggest insecurity. He doesn’t think he is good now, nor does he think he is getting better. He hates the fact that he has lost his confidence in something that made (Makes? Will make?) him happy. “And I really didn’t like the idea of recording in this kind of place, but I think I have an idea now.”

She shrugs her shoulders at that. “Consider me in. I’ll help you with anything you need.”

Jeno smiles at that. “Actually…I do need your help.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” Jeno finishes and then, he takes his camera equipment out of his backpack. He flutters his eyelashes against his cheeks when he smiles, half-moons welcoming her once again and Jeno is starting to feel a little bit heated up when he is around her. Pretty, definitely reminds him a lot of the girl he is texting. “I’m going to do a kind of look-book. I’m going to be my own model, but I need some styling assistance. I want a 90’s vibe, with warm colors and a lot of style references and hopefully you can help me get some nice shots, too.”

She widens her eyes, because it may be too much to ask for someone who should actually be working, but when Jeno thinks that she is going to decline his offer politely, she tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear as she rambles about an idea she had. “I saw these glasses that we have that are so like what you are describing. I think we can put some outfits together and all that stuff.”

“That’s it! You see my vision!” Jeno lifts his hand up in the air and she gives him a high five, the two exchanging smiles in an enchanting way. She pulls away from him, talking about what she is envisioning inside her brain and Jeno listens to her excitement. “You have to turn me into Sik-K.”

She looks over her shoulder, chuckling before shaking her head. “You want me to turn you into my dream guy?”

Jeno gasps at that, placing his hand over his chest in faux offensiveness. “Listen—on a scale of one to ten, that rapper is a nine point seven and I am a nine point eight.”

Her laughter is soft before she bites down on her bottom lip, gently. “I don’t need to turn you into him. I think you’re fine as you are.”

His heart flutters at the compliment, strangely enough.

What starts with one outfit turns into two and three. Luckily for him, they find a good corner of the big thrift store to come up with something good and along the way, she captures a lot of what Jeno wanted in this recording of his. Ripped jeans, flannels, caps, glasses, some band shirts and then onto brighter colors. At some point, along the third outfit, Jeno feels shy—not because he is looking bad, quite the contrary, he looks so good and so done up that he almost feels like he is not himself. She had picked a beige suit that had been there for quite a few years, paired with a black t-shirt underneath, tucked inside the high-waisted beige pants that made his legs look longer. Somehow, the lavender shade of his hair looked good with the colors and for that one shot, he was thinking of going outside. Maybe, a view from underneath that showed more of the sky and less of blank walls and the dim lightning of the thrift store. Something that would make the colors of the suit really stand out.

Once he comes out of the fitting room, he immediately seeks for her approval. Her eyes go up and down his body, a smile appearing on her face at the mere sight of him. Jeno, like a dream that just came out of the nineties, is the type of person that anyone would fall for. “Oh…I made a good choice.” That boosts Jeno’s ego, his hands fidgety at being the center of attention, but he doesn’t show it all that much. “So, what’s your plan?”

“A sky shot…but I brought my tripod. You can go back to work.”

Before Jeno could take the camera away from her hands, however, she shakes her head and that leads her to bring the camera closer to her chest. “Jisung’s got it…besides, it’s too early for people to drop by here and actually take my attention, so let me help you with this!”

Jeno squints his eyes, resting his hands inside the not-so-deep pockets of the suit he is wearing as he walks alongside her. “You’re really a whole angel, with a halo and all that stuff.” He compliments and the sight of her grin is enough to make him continue. He stares ahead, nonetheless, not wanting to look like she has him interested. “I might have to pay you with something. You like movies?”

“I mean…who doesn’t?”

“Exactly.” Jeno says and then, he nudges her side with his elbow. “I’ll give you a ticket to any movie you want once. This offer is only available for a month, though.”

She gasps at his offer, holding the camera up to his face once they are outside. Jeno says something about her kneeling down and as he thinks of his pose, she speaks. “No way!”

“Yes, of course! I work at a cinema, it’s what I can do.” Jeno adds and before she could say anything else—something along the lines of not wanting to accept—he interrupts her. “I want a shot of me kind of covering my face and looking down, you know.” Jeno grabs the jacket that he had brought with himself initially, that she had over her shoulder for some reason, and he talks to her. “Lift your knees up. I don’t want you getting aches.” He says and she does as he ordered, watching as he placed the somewhat fluffy jacket under her weight. “Kay.” He mumbles before he smiles. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I won’t.”

Anyone could notice that Jeno is comfortable with himself, although his confidence has been vanishing a bit. His eyes are covered from the sun with a hand that splays softly across his face elegantly, moving to his side so the length of his legs can be seen. She moves around a bit, enough to get nice shots of him—not that his angles were bad, in any way—and the last thing Jeno does is smile happily, perhaps because he has finished his project with enough footage to do something, or because it is rare to get help. The acts of kindness he has seen during this year are almost nonexistent,

Sometimes, all we need is someone to remind us that society is not as rotten as it seems to be. That the sun hides, like any of us do, but some time in its life it will come up to remind everyone just how important it is. Jeno thinks that helping someone twice without expecting anything in return is almost impossible, but he can only hope that a handful of good things happen to the woman that seems more like an angel to him. When he is stepping out of the thrift store, changed and holding a bag that kept the suit he had worn—thanks to her, because she says that suit was meant to be worn by him—, he takes his phone out of his pocket before asking:

“Can I have your number? We can talk about that movie thing I offered earlier.”

She nods her head, bashful and tingling with excitement as she dictates her phone number. Jeno writes it down, until he sees there is already one person saved under that name…

Not Ryosuke.

That girl.

“Holy fuck!” Jeno laughs at the own twists and twirls of life, like a ballerina that forgot her steps. She looks at him as if he is crazy, and maybe he is, because in the matter of seconds he is showing her the screen and her expression suddenly turns into one of realization. “I didn’t know we already knew each other. I promise this wasn’t planned.”

“Well…that’s unexpected.” She whispers before rubbing her temples with her fingers. “No wonder you reminded me so much of him.”

“Exactly.” Jeno smiles and then, he changes the contact’s name and licks his lips soon after. “I still keep my promises, though. We’re going to watch any movie you want.”

“Yes—!”

“Hey, there is another box of underwear here and I’m too scared to look. What if it’s dirty?!” Jisung asks in a loud tone from somewhere in the store and she curses under her breath, saying her goodbyes and waving at him before going over to the young man.

Jeno should have known that there will never be two of her.

📷

“Guess what I found.”

“I don’t know.”

“My old Nintendo DS. And I have Nintendogs on it.”

“Ooh, this is going to be a wild night.”

Sometimes, life surprises Jeno. Any of us, really. Think of the amount of times you have gotten bad news on a good day, or vice versa, and you’ll be surprised by the fact that there is no amount of sixth senses that can help you with knowing the future. That is scary, on one end, to not know if you’re going to be happy for the entirety of your life or if there is an abyss of emotions waiting for you. In this occasion, he is not bothered by said facts, because he is with her. The woman whom he had taken to the cinema for free, and he had asked Jaemin to cover him as he watched a movie for the nth time. They talked a lot, getting a few glances from the people who were actually trying to watch the movie, but Jeno works there. What are they going to do? Call the manager on him?

Luckily, they didn’t call the manager.

And now he is there, third date if you may call it—if buying her a bagel when she gets out of work counts as a date—. He thinks it was, simply because he had walked her home after that. Right now, they are seated across one of the prettiest parks in Seoul, a red and white fabric underneath them as a simplistic way of indicating they are on a picnic date, but the food is already gone and he actually wanted to play some games with her. Nintendogs sounded like a good idea. It included animals and definitely not a lot of effort.

They say meeting your soulmate consists of finding someone exactly like you, but be damned the person that created such concept. Sometimes, you just need someone that connects with you—that is the complete opposite of you and yet, they are willing to spend time with one another. Jeno pulls the hood of his shirt up his hair, considering if he should dye it back to black after he heard her say she likes that color on him—thanks to some pictures she had seen—but for now, lavender will do. She gets closer to him, watching the screen as it displays the entrance logo and then, the sight of a poodle welcomes them, along with her laughter. “Oh no, you did not!”

“Did not what?” Jeno asks and then his eyes go to the dog’s name, chuckling along with her at the sight of his poor attempt at an English name. Ducky. “I didn’t know Ducky was like…duck, you know. I thought it was cute.”

“That’s the blandest, most random name for a dog.” She plays around with the screen a little bit, trying to feed the dog only to be welcomed by the zeroes on his account. “And we’re basically at the verge of being poor?! Jeno! We need to find cheats for this game so we can feed the dog!”

“We are going to take him to a running championship and get some cash. Relax.” Jeno looks at her, their faces far too close for two people who have not even gotten remotely close to kissing. Not that Jeno does not want to, but he had kind of forgotten how to take that step. He doesn’t want to seem like an absolute creep, but he would be lying if he said that he does not enjoy the sight of her glossy lips coated in lip-gloss only recently. “Just trust me?” He whispers, his eyes shining like the stars that she has gotten tired of seeing, but they seem brand new on his orbits. She seems to try to find somewhere to look at, like his eyes or his lips or everything, because everything about him deserves to be looked at.

“I trust you.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“And how can I show you that I really trust you?”

Jeno raises his eyebrows momentarily, trying to find the words in him to tell her something, anything, maybe there are no words that could compare to what a kiss would mean. Jeno is a coward, however, bumping his shoulder with hers and saying a simple: “I know you already trust me, silly.”

And anyone could tell, from meters or miles away, that the pair liked one another. Not like how the sun likes the moon, those type of analogues are starting to die down, but like two people who simply knew the biggest meaning behind feeling something. It was meant to be there, to be lived, to be felt, to be embraced because no matter how much sadness or despair, happiness or anger is felt, it should be given time to stay there and coexist with you.

He saves it for later, because it is always more of a comforting blanket to imagine that things will get easier along the way. Someday, he is going to kiss her and he is going to do it right. For now, however, he will keep that action on the low.

📷

He has never told her that he loves the way she looks at him.

It has been five dates, and Jeno is still looking for that perfect moment to finally kiss her, but it is a thought that passes through his brain when they are roaming around a convenience store to get some snacks for their videogame night. Jeno holds the door open for her, and she looks over her shoulder just to thank him in a soft tone, but he is more than glad that someone like her likes him the moment he finally realizes just how she glances at him. There is something in her eyes, as if she sees Jeno as someone that is worth more than a million things. To her, he is a human being that shines his light—not only because of his successes, but for his failures, too. Jeno is strong, in one way or another, not only when he holds her but when he continues for his dreams, even when he feels like giving up.

The air conditioner is quite too cold at the convenience store, and they are taking their precious time to pick their snacks or the drinks they are going to have. She complains under her breath that her t-shirt is too thin to keep her warm, and that is Jeno’s cue to wrap his arms around her waist, bringing his chest closer to her back and his lips to press down on her shoulder. There is also not a single soul near them at the convenience store, only the workers that don’t seem to be paying that much attention to anything but the soccer game that is displayed in one of the TV’s. “Jeno,” She whines, although she leans back a bit as she looks through the packages of ramen she was just looking at. “What do you want? Pork flavored…chicken…seafood?”

“I’m feeling chicken tonight.” Jeno whispers and she giggles when his lips move against her neck.

“You’re tickling me.”

“Cute.”

“Stop it, Jeno. People are going to look at us weirdly.”

“You were cold!”

“And?”

“We need to survive.”

“I’m not going to die from the cold.”

Jeno groans as he pulls away from her, taking a cart from nearby to put three packages of ramen inside the cart, moving forward as they remain in silence for a few seconds, pondering on what they should buy next. “I’m going to take revenge. I’m so going to beat your bum on Just Dance.”

She fakes a shivering motion, as if it is going up her spine. “I am shaking. Look at me.” She replies and Jeno juts out his bottom lip in a pout. She chuckles at the sight, immediately turning to look at him and properly give him all her attention. Sometimes, he wonders if this is the best he will ever feel with someone, because he has had a number of girlfriends…and none of them had made him feel like this. There aren’t butterflies roaming around his stomach, neither a zoo—it feels peaceful, like she is meant to be there and he is meant to accompany her, and they were meant to meet. Through text, or through his motorcycle running out of fuel. “I’m kidding.” She cutely adds before pinching his cheeks, moving his face from one side to the other before sighing. “Let’s keep shopping.”

The best part of the night that is only starting comes when they get out of the convenience store, walking over to Jeno’s motorcycle as they speak about their encounters with videogames. When he gets on his spot, he feels her sitting down behind him, something that she has done a few times already, but the moment she wraps her arms around his waist, bag filled with snacks sounding with the quick breeze, Jeno turns around, placing one hand over hers to ask:

“Are you set in place? I don’t want you falling off the motorcycle or something.” He turns on the motorcycle as he says those words, and she smiles before nodding her head. Jeno, either way, asks once again. “Are you sure? I’m being mad serious.”

Before he knows it, he feels the soft texture of her lips pressing against his in a quick kiss, as if she just needs to remind him that he is the most caring person she has ever met in this world, and there is nothing else she would rather be doing at that moment. Jeno continues the kiss, only pulling away when she does so to open his eyes softly to look at her. She pats his bicep, as if nothing had happened, but then she rests her cheek against his back. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just go.”

“I don’t think I want to go now.” He says, still starting the motorcycle and driving it towards his shared apartment.

“Why?”

“Because you had more balls than me to kiss me and that’s…that’s the most attractive shit ever, oh my God.”

And the sound of her laughter is enough to ease him up.

📷

Jeno has always loved comedy movies, and while he should really get tired of watching hours and hours of footage of both good and bad movies, he never does. For some reason, Jeno thinks that every movie is worth a watch, but when he is feeling down, he likes to have a good laugh when his face is illuminated by the colors of the television screen, wrapped snugly in a blanket, only staring ahead even when his eyes are technically burning from his long hours of movie-watching. Any other day, he would have been accompanied by Dongyoung’s grumbling about how he cannot watch movies in such a high volume, but right now he hears the sound of his door opening, then some heels clicking and finally, the sound of his keys being tossed to his side.

The light turns on, and he is welcomed by the sight of his girlfriend, who takes in his surroundings. Bags of snacks that are left empty, his hair a mess under his blankets, his thin lips plumper thanks to the spicy chicken he had and finally, just finally, she lets out a smile that greets him with a new beginning, telling him that he will be alright, even when life tries to tell him it won’t. “Try to brush your hair at least, okay?” She asks, walking forward to pull the blanket off Jeno and run her fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes, now realizing just how tired he is. Of finally coming to the realization that he has failed that class that he has been fighting so hard to pass, of living his life with his creativity tied to the words in a book, of the insomniac nights and the footage he deletes. He rests his face against her stomach, wrapping his arms around her legs and closing his eyes tightly.

“I was just too lazy to do anything.” Jeno whispers against her stomach, tickling her with the movement of his lips before he rests his chin against the skin, looking up with tired eyes. “I thought you were going to study for a test.”

“I studied earlier because I knew you’d be down.” The answer makes his heart grow in size and he bites his bottom lip, trying his hardest to give her one of those bright smiles that he tends to give away like it is Christmas time, but he fails entirely. Is it his fault that he has only liked two genres in his life: action and comedy, and that he is living through the worst drama that he has ever seen? Maybe, but that is just how life is. She takes a seat beside him, turning off the device in front of them before scoffing. “Baby, I am so proud of you…and you should be proud, too. Sure, you failed that class…but you tried your hardest, and learned a lot, and improved.” He looks at her, finally coming to the realization that he might like a new genre of movies now. Romance, even when he surely gags at how stupid most romance movies are, but theirs…the one they have made…seems to be bound to have a good ending. “That is what is important. Just take that same class with another professor next time and you’ll be fine.”

“Yes. I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Jeno whispers and then, he smacks her thigh lightly, although the sound goes around the living room. “Let me brush my teeth and then we can take a nap, okay?”

“I’d love that.”

When he stands up to go to the bathroom, he takes one last glance at his girlfriend, looking through his selection of movies with a peaceful look on her face and he smiles.

Life is not like a movie, but some things are way better.

#jeno scenarios #jeno #nct scenarios #nct #kpop scenarios #writing #nct fluff #jeno fluff #nct au #jeno au #cinema worker!jeno #accidental texting!au #strangers to lovers!au #listen: if you know where the title is from you're one of mine lol #but i hope you like this!!!#i wrote this when i was feeling really low so i hope it's good???#idk???

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drarryruinedme7 · 5 years

Text

Fairy Dust

This is for the wonderful @jeldenil ❤️❤️It’s just a little thing, but I hope you’ll enjoy it!

Big thanks to my beta @musingsofaretiredunicorn 😍

Drarry | Rating: General | Word count: 2.8K | Tags: bookshop owner Draco Malfoy, children’s author Harry Potter, books smell, asking on a date | READ IT ON AO3.

Fairy Dust

With a flick of his wand, Draco rearranged the books of his store by author.

Another flick, and the dust on the shelves made a little dance before disappearing.

One last flick, and all the fingerprints on the books’ covers and the pages vanished, leaving them looking like new.

Draco sighed contentedly, looking around his store. He knew that some people thought his obsession with books was a bit weird, but he couldn’t resist his urge to cuddle them and protect them from bad weather, yellowing and dog-earing. In his opinion, books were precious treasures and he thought of himself as an intrepid hero, keeping them safe from ill-intentioned pirates.

That was how this had started. One day, Pansy had looked at the umpteenth new shelf full of books in Draco’s house and had scoffed. “Merlin’s balls, Draco, your house looks like a bookshop! Can’t you just borrow your books from libraries, as everyone else does?”

Draco remembered the feeling when he’d heard those words. His heart had started beating fast in his chest, making his hands tremble slightly. He’d grinned at Pansy, saying excitedly, “You’re right! I’ll open a bookstore!”

“That’s not what I — ”

“I can already see it, I’ll mix Muggle and Wizarding books; people will love it!”

Pansy had shaken her head, amused, but she’d been smiling too. Draco had been living in Muggle London ever since the War had ended and the trials had freed him as a ‘forced death eater who was just a kid.’ He hated that definition—no one believed it, not even himself, and people still looked at him with suspicion and hatred. In the end, Muggle London had seemed a good enough solution, but he still hadn’t found what he wanted to do for a living.

It had been feverish months, but in the end Draco’s bookstore, Fairy Dust, had opened, and Muggles loved it. They were fascinated with all the ‘fantasy books’ by authors they’d never heard of, with how pristine the books were, and with the warm smell of the books themselves, that seemed to pervade the air like in no other bookstore in London.

No one knew that the unknown authors were wizards and witches, and that magic helped to preserve the books and to enhance their smell just enough.

During the first difficult months, Draco had almost lived in the bookstore, remaining there even well after closing, rearranging the books, checking that everything was in its right place, balancing the magical account-book and unpacking boxes and boxes of new books to shelve.

When the sky became darker, Draco would linger, seeking a bit of relaxation before going back home. He’d light some candles and spell on classical music—usually Tchaikovsky—and select a new book to read. Even if he sold them, he still had a huge pile of books to read, especially from the Muggle part of his collection.

He’d walk slowly through the shelves, lightly caressing the books’ spines, and when he’d decided on his new read, he’d take it to one of the couches in the reading parlour. He’d open it, his fingers delicate, careful to not wrinkle the dust jacket or the pages and would immerse himself in a new world. Sometimes, Draco would stop reading to gently bring the book near his face, to briefly inhale the smell of the pages. He didn’t even realise he did it; when he read, he instinctively tried to experience it fully, with all of his senses.

There were times when Draco fell asleep reading on the couch and would wake up with a start in the middle of the night, his body aching from the awkward position. Other times he wasn’t so lucky, and he woke up only with the first rays of sunshine coming through the windows of Fairy Dust, too late to go back home and get ready. He would try to make himself decent with magic and would start the day thinking he really needed some time off.

It was one of those mornings. This time Pansy woke Draco up knocking on the door of the bookstore half an hour before the opening. She was holding a large bag and when Draco opened the door, she entered without even saying ‘Hi.’ She hurried to his desk and dumped the bag on it with a loud thump, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you fall asleep here again?”

Draco nodded slowly, still not fully awake. She sighed and went on. “You need to rest properly, Draco! But not today. Today I have a surprise for you. I’ve found some books that I think would be great for your Reading Thursdays!”

Reading Thursdays were an event Draco had started a few weeks before. He had noticed that many children were fascinated with all his books that told of magic and enchanted places—they never wanted to go back home, enthralled by the drawings and the shining letters of those books. After seeing the latest kid begging his mother to stay a few minutes longer, to read ‘just one more chapter,’ Draco decided to open two hours, from 4 to 6 pm, in the reading parlour to read books out loud to the children. It rapidly became a crowded and much-loved event in his bookstore’s neighbourhood.

He yawned and finally looked up drowsily at Pansy. “Pansy, if you brought me your vampire romances again, I swear…”

Pansy shook her head and took a book out of her bag, shouting, “Better!” and shoving it into Draco’s chest.

Draco took it and his face lost what little colour it had naturally, his eyes snapping fully open now. On a shining green cover with a drawing of four dragons, stood out the title, The Triwizard Tournament, and just under it, “by Harry Potter.”

Those two words spiralled in Draco’s mind for so long that they were starting to lose meaning when Pansy beamed, “So?”

Draco tried to speak, only to find out his throat had gone completely dry. He swallowed sharply and leaned the book on the desk. “He’s a writer? Of children books?”

Pansy smirked and emptied the whole bag on the desk: dozens of books fell on it, in an abundance of colours and seemingly endless repetition of the name Harry Potter all over them. Draco’s jaw fell open and he started opening each book, briefly scanning the pages, brushing his fingers over the drawings of Potter’s deeds, absent-mindedly smelling the pages. They smelled of new, of magic, and of bravery, and Draco cursed himself for being so sentimental over stupid pieces of paper.

Pansy laughed heartily. “I knew you’d like them. Have a look, seems like our old friend has got a unique way of telling stories. I’ve got to go to work, now! Let me know what you think.”

Draco waved a lazy hand at her, muttering a farewell under his breath and continuing to flip through the pages of Potter’s books. Reawakening from the stupor of such a discovery, Draco glanced at his clock to see it was time to open the bookstore. He got up and turned the sign on the door to ‘Open.’

The rest of the day passed in a haze for Draco. He smiled and helped his customers, but his mind had travelled far away—to a time when his life was dominated by magic, when he lived in a big ancient castle, when he used to believe stupid things and had ruined forever his chance to become friends with the great Harry Potter… the same Potter who was now writing children’s books about his life. What a show off! But, at the same time, Draco couldn’t avoid the curiosity that spread through him.

Potter had never struck him as an artistic kind of person. What had changed in these years? Was he really a good writer? When the sky turned black once again, Draco’s entire body was thrumming with excitement to read Potter’s books. He switched the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ and hurried to sit in the couch, a hot cup of tea in one hand and The Triwizard Tournament open in his lap. He started reading it and soon found himself absorbed in its world, in the wonderful way Potter had crafted a narrative of the events, to make it enjoyable for young readers, in the brief sentences here and there that made Draco understand what Potter had actually lived all those years ago.

Had he really been so blind to think that Potter’s life had been easy and happy only because of his fame? And the drawings… they were so vivid, so colourful and immersive. When Draco reached the end of the book, his heart skipped a beat. “Drawings by Harry Potter.” Draco’s mind blacked out and he stared at the page without blinking. Had he known Harry Potter at all during those seven years of school? He closed the book, wishing he could start his life once again and get to know this famous Harry Potter, after all.

That night he fell asleep dreaming of another life, where a hand hadn’t been rejected and Draco was under the water, waiting for Potter to save him before the other Triwizard champions…

^^^^^

After a non-stop month, Harry was happy to finally have some free time, away from writing. His first series of children’s books was completed, and he could finally take a breath of relief. He was walking along the streets of Muggle London, looking in at the windows of the shops, smiling at the freedom he had amongst Muggles. Sometimes he really needed those moments when he could walk in public without being asked for an autograph or a photo with a stranger.

He distractedly glanced at a window and almost tripped over his feet, coming to a halting stop. His books were displayed just there, in plain Muggle London. Was he having hallucinations? His gaze hovered higher, to look inside the shop… A blond man was sitting on the floor, one of Harry’s books open in his lap, reading to a bunch of children. Harry squinted harder... Merlin’s tits! It was Draco Malfoy!

Harry’s heart flew to his throat. What the fuck was happening? Harry’s mind was racing to understand the situation, when Draco Malfoy flicked his eyes up, just in time to glimpse Harry standing like an idiot outside the store, gaping like a fish. Harry widened his eyes and weakly waved a hand to greet him.

After ten years. He. Waved. His. Hand. To. Draco. Malfoy. What an idiot.

Malfoy tightened his lips as if to suck in a breath and then his cheeks flushed a crimson red, but he quickly flicked his eyes back to the children, continuing to read.

Taking a deep breath, Harry entered the bookstore and slowly approached Malfoy, sitting amongst the children. Malfoy didn’t seem to notice him, but a twitch of his jaw and a light stammering on a word told Harry he’d seen him enter.

After that, Malfoy continued to read passionately, smiling in a way Harry had no idea could be possible for his ex-nemesis, using his voice expressively, contorting his face to match what he was reading. He held the kids’ attention, and Harry’s, too. Malfoy seemed sweet, creating a masterful performance for the children sitting raptly in front of him. Had he known Draco Malfoy at all during those seven years of school?

When the story was finished and the children had gone home with their parents, only Harry remained in the bookstore, sat on the pillows on the floor, nervously scratching a patch on it. Malfoy sat in front of him, fidgeting with the book. He cleared his throat. “Potter.”

Harry flicked his eyes up to meet Malfoy’s. “Malfoy… I… It’s been ages!” He stood up and reached Malfoy, offering him his hand.

Malfoy took it and got up. “Ages, indeed. What brings you here?”

Harry felt his cheeks burning; was he really having a civil conversation with Malfoy? “I finished writing my first series of books and so I was enjoying a day off. I had no idea you… you have a bookstore?”

Malfoy smiled and Harry felt his cheeks getting even hotter if possible. When had Malfoy become so handsome? “Exactly. And you’re a writer. It’s a small world...”

Harry found himself grinning like a girl at his first crush. “Surely a weird coincidence. You are, erm, you are good with this stuff. And your bookstore… it’s so neat, beautiful and… cosy.”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute, before bursting out laughing. Malfoy regained control first. “We look like two idiots. Can I offer you something to drink, or maybe —”

Right at that moment, the door of the bookstore opened loudly, and Harry heard quick steps advancing in their direction, while Draco rolled his eyes and whispered, “Oh no.”

Harry turned to see a large woman, with curly hair standing up all over her head and an angry frown on her face, practically running towards them. She stopped right next to Harry, ignoring him and pointing a big finger towards Malfoy. “You! You are a librarian! How can you read such stuff to children! Shame on you!”

Harry raised his eyebrows, barely stifling laughter. Was that woman referring to his books? He risked a peek at Malfoy and saw him with his usual scowl in place. Some things never changed.

He crooked his head and answered with a calm that Harry never would have expected from him. “Mrs Delaoui, we’ve talked about this several times now. I find Harry Potter’s books more than appropriate for children: they love them, and the books teach them good lessons and values. I will never—not today, nor any other day—stop reading or selling them.”

The so-called Mrs Delaoui turned an alarming shade of red and stomped her feet on the ground, like a capricious child who’d been refused a sweet. “They are full of violence! And death and such strong words. This… how do you call him… Voldemort? He’s too bad for children, they could take him as a role model! I won’t bring my child here again under any circumstance and I will write to this famous Harry Potter and —”

Harry couldn’t restrain anymore and burst out laughing so hard he had to lean against a shelf, holding his belly. The woman looked at him, astounded. When he calmed down enough to answer, he looked at her, shaking his head. “Oh, I am sorry, Ma’am. Don’t mind me.” After all, it wasn’t every day that he could witness Malfoy supporting him.

Malfoy snorted and started again. “Look, Ma’am, I’ll repeat myself one last time. If you don’t want to bring here your child again that’s fine by me. And try to reach Harry Potter, too, if you feel like it. But what I can tell you is that I won’t stop selling these books, and the reason is simple. You say there is violence and death, but have you ever actually read the most famous fairy tales? They are all about princesses in danger, knights who have to kill an enemy for their love, and orphans who’ve lost their parents in horrifying ways. This is no less, no more. And I’ll tell you one more thing: these books teach children bravery, real friendship, humility, and to fight for the right things. I wish someone had taught me those things when I was a child. So, for the last time: I’ll never stop reading or selling Harry Potter’s books.”

Harry was looking at Malfoy with his mouth slightly open, his heartbeat racing in his chest. This Draco Malfoy seemed a far cry from the one he used to know, and he felt a sudden strong pull to get to know this new man standing right in front of him, defending him and his past to a Muggle.

Mrs Delaoui seemed at a loss for words and looked back and forth from Harry to Draco. “Well!” She cried out, “That’s! I don’t… goodbye!”

She turned and angrily stalked off, the sounds of her stomping feet the only one reverberating in the bookstore before she exited, slamming the door behind herself.

Harry glanced at Malfoy again and saw that a blush was covering most of his face and the visible part of his neck; Harry couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Malfoy must have felt his eyes on him, because he turned to Harry and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile of his own. “I…”

Harry briefly shook his head. “I never thought I’d live to see the day Draco Malfoy would defend me.”

This time Malfoy did smile, and Harry thought he could see a future in the gleam of Malfoy’s eyes. “And I never thought I’d live to see the day I’d go out on a date with Harry Potter.”

Harry crossed his arms and smirked. “Who said we’re going out on a date?”

Malfoy leaned in towards Harry, his breath ghosting over his lips. “Scared, Potter?”

Harry held his gaze. “You wish, Malfoy.”

#drarry #drarry squad #drarry fanfiction #drarry drabble #drarry fanfic #drarry fandom #draco X harry #bookshop owner draco malfoy #children's author harry potter #mywriting

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