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dandelionflower · 3 years

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I saw on one of your post that said to send you prompts sooo... can I request A childhood friend AU either Felix or Marinette moves away and then reuniting in college in France at age 14 in Felix's school with the Quantic Kids.

It was a pretty normal day, which probably meant something was going to happen. If it wasn’t a normal day, something was bound to happen as well; life in Paris hadn’t been normal in months. It being a normal day meant that Marinette was late. Super late. Way, way, so very late she might as well be early for the next thing kind of late. So late that- (oh, she’s beginning to catch onto why she’s so late.)

She knew even as she was shoving toothpaste into her bag for Tikki and brushing her teeth with frosting (wait, switch that) that she would be late, and her erratic movements were enough to convince her parents to write her an excuse. Not that anyone could blame her; she had to deal with three akumas in one night. Three akumas. Who could blame her, or anyone for that matter, for being late when there were three emotionally-stunted teens each wreaking havoc upon the city? It was a wonder that anyone else got to class on time, except for Alya, who Marinette was pretty sure didn’t sleep.

Marinette kissed both parents goodbye, thanking them again for the excuse note. They shoved a box of pastries into her hands, as was their habit whenever she didn’t leave school fast enough.

They had done it since her first day at her new school, when she was tiny and frightened of new people; having the same best friend since birth would do that. Her father had shoved a box of macaroons in her arms and her mother placed a bracing arm on her back. They told her what to do and she tried her hardest to follow their instructions, standing up straight at the front of the class, introducing herself, and offering cookies. Unfortunately, that was the same day Chloe Bourgeois was joining public school, and compared to cookies, her offer of money to ten year-olds wasn’t all that effective. And Chloe was excellent at holding a grudge.

Of course, she ended up with friends: Alya, Nino, Adrien, and everyone in art class, but it was hard to go about her first couple years of school without anyone in her corner. Becoming Ladybug really gave her the boost of confidence she needed to break out of her shell and make new friends, and now she had a whole class full.

She stopped in the classroom to put her stuff away, pausing for a second to breathe. How was she out of shape? She’s Ladybug, for heavens’ sakes! Those three akumas really took it out of her. Luckily enough, she had gym class up next. (Can you hear the sarcasm?)

“Girl! Where have you been?” Alya smiled up at her from where she was stretching her hamstrings.

“Sorry Alya, slept in too much.” She fell into place beside her, choosing one of the more advanced stretches to accomplish instead. “Three akumas yesterday; couldn’t get much sleep.”

“You need to get over yourself, Mari. Ladybug and Chat Noir always win against the akumas, this fear of yours is ridiculous.” Alya glanced at her with an incredulous look, but when she saw her intense yoga pose, the look shifted and she yelled over her shoulder. “Adrien! Get over here! Marinette’s doing her physics-defying stuff again!”

Adrien joined them, laughing at Alya’s exaggerated despair. “It’s really not that hard. You just have to-” He fell into the position easily and began matching her movements. “There.”

“How on EARTH?” Alya shrieked and threw herself to the right, toppling into Nino, who was in a shaky warrior two. They ended up in a heap on the floor, Alya staring in horror at the two still upright and Nino staring bewildered at his girlfriend. “How are you two doing that?”

“Well, I don’t know about Marinette,” Adrien moved into an upward dog, “but father insisted that I be physically active in some way and my mother used to do yoga. So I picked it up.”

Nino leaned close to Alya’s ear. “I’m not sure whether to add this to the ‘reasons Gabriel sucks’ list or be happy he has this thing with his mom.”

“Both I guess?”

“What about you Marinette?” He moved into a handstand-like position. “Why do you know all this stuff?”

My superhero moonlighting requires me to be as stretchy as a rubber band, so my partner, who is also a furry, taught me yoga. “My first best friend and I learned tai chi, and this just felt like the next step.” Not a lie, just not why she chose yoga.

“Okay, you’re fine.” Alya pointed a finger between them both. “But next time you do something weird, I’m starting a cryptid blog about you.”

“You don’t have the guts.” Marinette leaned in and Adrien flipped down to join her. It felt familiar, like deja vu; not her crush, she killed that with fire once he started dating Kagami.

“Heey!” Nino opened his arms in front of them. “Let’s change the subject, what about that new student?”

“There’s a new student?” Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were all stretching dutifully. No new faces whatsoever. “Where are they?”

“Not here, he went to the office over a scheduling conflict. Seems like a jerk.” Alya pulled an arm behind her head, glaring with derision in the direction of the office.

“Alya, don’t.” Adrien nudged her with a foot. “First impressions don’t mean anything, right Marinette?” He shot her a playful glance.

“Don’t remind me.”

“That one was a misunderstanding. Mister Ice Cold over there doesn’t even say a word, just nods and walks into the back of the class. At least Adrien did something and he asked for forgiveness afterwards. Frosty doesn’t even look at us.” With that final comment, Alya joined the rest of the class in dodgeball.

“Is she alright?” Adrien side-eyed her.

“Yeah, she just really hates people acting superior to her. Let’s go.” Marinette shrugged it off and joined her in picking teams.

Dodgeball was a mess; it always was. The entirety of the class had been akumatized at one point, and some of the strategic prowess remained. Marinette’s team always won, which everyone attributed to her agility, but it was really that Ladybug had more practice in strategy. The only way the teams could be considered even was if Adrien was against her.

She still won; she always won. When it was all over, each team, sweating and exhausted, gravitated to the center line to shake hands and congratulate one another on a game well played. Adrien met her in the middle with a weary smirk. His hair was disheveled, but there was a spark in his eyes that made him seem more familiar than he already was.

“I almost got you that time.” He gripped her hand tight.

“All that training with Kagami is really upping your game.” She quipped, shaking his hand. “Better luck next time.”

With that promise of another match, everyone vacated the gym to the locker rooms, where Alya continued to warn Marinette against the new student.

“Even Chloe doesn’t like him and he seems like the kind of rich boy that would be right up her alley.”

“Alya, I get it. You aren’t the new guy’s biggest fan.”

“And the feeling’s mutual too.” She griped.

“So just don’t talk to him; it works with Chloe. Why not this guy too?” She wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to their desk.

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”

“You don’t have to like him either.” She pulled out her notebook and began writing down the date.

Before Alya could make another passive aggressive comment about the mystery new boy, Miss Bustier walked in, the usual skip in her step. “Class, I know I already introduced you to our new student but since some of us weren’t here for the first period,” Marinette ducked her head with a sheepish smile, “I’ve decided there’s nothing better than a redo. So, here’s Mister Culpa, introducing himself again.”

Culpa?

A boy with pale blond hair and paler skin strode into the room. He wore what could only be called business-casual, all monochrome. His eyes were a one-in-a-million breathtaking ice blue.

Culpa?

“Hello.” His eyes scanned the room emotionlessly. “As I previously said, my name is Felix Culpa and I am from-” He stopped when he reached her. “Nette?”

“Felix.” She breathed, barely even daring to say it louder, lest he disappear.

He was a blur, climbing the steps and reaching her in the time it took her to stand. There were no words when they hugged, other than the other’s name. She was on the tips of her toes, pressing her forehead to his collarbone. Felix got tall.

“I missed you.” He whispered, squeezing just a little tighter.

“I missed you too.” She laughed, pulling back to see his face. He was crying. She was crying.

“What in Ladybug’s name is happening?” Alya’s shout broke them from whatever pocket dimension they were inhabiting together. “You two know each other?”

“Alya, this is Felix.” She turned to look at her, hand still on Felix’s shoulder. “He was my best friend from birth to ten.”

“Was?” He bumped her hip with his. “Didn’t know I’ve been replaced, Netta.”

“I couldn’t contact you after I moved! I was ten and your mom never told us what her new number was.” She punched his elbow. “What are you doing here?”

“My family moved. I didn’t know you were in this area too; imagine my surprise when I see what the current events in Paris are and find out that there are superheroes and my best friend is now a borderline celebrity.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“We have to catch up some time.” She grabbed his arm.

“Certainly, maybe not here and now, though.” He gestures to the class around them, avidly watching the exchange.

“Right.” She released his arm and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “Coffee and macarons later then? My place?”

“I would like nothing more.” He quirked a smile that would seem tiny to anyone else, but to Marinette was as bright as the sun. “Until then.” Felix squeezed her hand and moved to the back of the class with a little wave.

She returned it, a goofy smile definitely on her face as she sat back down.

“Well,” Miss Bustier coughed, “since Felix has been so thoroughly introduced to everyone else, I suppose I should start the lesson.” And she dove into a spiel about the first World War.

“Dang, girl. Is it just me, or do you have a date after class?” Alya whispered to her from behind her textbook.

“It’s not a date! We’re just catching up.”

“Sure.”

She spared a quick glance at Felix, who was nose-deep in his book, just like when they were kids. He had such sharp features, and upon reconsideration, his eyes looked even more beautiful than she remembered. Felix grew up just fine without her. Really fine, in fact.

It took Marinette a couple seconds to realize she was staring, and when she did, her head turned back to the front of the room so fast she swore she heard a snap.

This was... going to be complicated.

#felinette #ml felix #felix agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #ml alya #alya cesaire #ml nino #nino lahiffe #ml adrien #adrien agreste

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dresupi · 3 years

Text

Darcy/Stephen Strange - The Big Kiss that gets interrupted - Speedrun Prompts

for @artemisgarden

1,217 words

Rated T

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you insane?” Stephen sounded sort of upset, if Darcy was going to call it anything at all. She pressed her lips together because while she could definitely understand his query, she sensed he had more to get out than just that one question.

“Do you actually have problems with decision making, Lewis? Your doctorate tells me that no, you don’t, but then again, the fact that you ended up here, in the very place I asked you -- very politely I might add, as per your request for all future communication -- not to visit. Not to come within a mile of. But you took that as invitation to come here? To ground zero of the very… event that you, yourself predicted?” He exhaled.

“Are you finished?” she asked, glancing over to where Ian was standing, arms full of her equipment, wind whipping all around them.

“Well… I…” He flailed his arms for a moment before crossing them in front of his chest. “Yes, I’m finished.”

“Okay, well, as you know, I’m a scientist first, and a heeder of warnings second, I didn’t want to miss any readings that might help with my research. I understand that my being here is some sort of sore spot for you, but there is a storm shelter right over there, Ian and I just needed to put out some of my equipment to measure different levels in the storm, and then we’d be down in that shelter, safe. Now that you’re here, you’ve cost us valuable minutes where we could already be finished.”

“The fact that the general populace has been evacuated didn’t register at all as dangerous? My own warning notwithstanding?” Stephen asked, gesturing to the empty farm behind him.

Darcy sniffed and looked around, noticing for the first time that there were no other cars around other than the one she and Ian had come in. No animals on what was clearly a dairy farm either. “Now that you mention it, that is sort of weird, but--”

“But nothing, we’re leaving.” He drew one of his portals in the air and gestured towards it, the wind picking up considerably.

“Just let me set out my equipment. This is the biggest one of these storms to hit since the blip unblipped. I want to get the readings. It’ll take like… thirty seconds since we don’t have to take time to run for shelter now.” She held her hands out to Ian, who quickly handed off two of her interstellar barometric gauge readers. He had the other two.

She handed one to Stephen, who took it because she left him no choice but to take it or risk breaking the state-of-the-art patent-pending equipment she was utilizing for the first time. She set each of the readers up, synced up with satellites in the upper atmosphere. They’d relay the information to her computer back home.

After they got each one set up and turned on, She allowed Stephen to pull both her and Ian into the portal, dropping them off in his living room. An interesting choice for landing points, but whatever.

She coughed and closed her eyes for a moment to stop her head from spinning.

“You both could have died,” Stephen hissed.

“Excuse me, Dr. Strange, sir…” Ian began. “I know full well the risks involved with Dr. Lewis’s research and I know that the research is paramount to understanding these superstorm cells…”

“So you were aware of the risks involved and still allowed your mentor to walk into certain death?”

Ian swallowed and set his jaw. “No offense meant to Dr. Lewis, but have you met her? What do you think would have happened to me if I’d tried that?”

Darcy snickered, and Stephen rolled his eyes, turning back to her.

“Do you know how worried I was?” he asked.

Her eyebrows went straight up. “I’m sorry, how worried you were? I wasn’t aware I was supposed to take your feelings into consideration when I made life or death decisions. You certainly don’t take mine into consideration.”

He narrowed his eyes, focusing directly on her. “I never made any life or death gambles either.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t think our ‘acquaintanceship necessitates’ that I check in with you for every little thing.” She raised her eyebrows questioningly. Because for someone who very clearly didn’t want to be in a relationship with her, he certainly cared a lot about her knowing how worried he was.

Stephen’s look hardened, his voice lowering to a volume that might not be as noticeable to Ian. “I specifically warned you… would you excuse us, please?” he asked, directing his attention to Ian. “If you’ll walk down that hall there, the kitchen is fully stocked. Help yourself.” Ian lingered, glancing over at Darcy as if he weren’t sure whether to leave her or not.

She waved him on, and he went, her gaze not breaking from where it was currently boring into Stephen’s. “You specifically warned me…” She gestured for him to go on.

“I warned you it was dangerous,” he continued. “I did that out of worry for your safety... “

“And that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s why I warned you. Believe it or not, I think the world’s better with you in it.”

“Oh,” she chuckled, breaking his gaze to wander over to fiddle with something on an end table. It looked expensive. But everything in Stephen’s place did. “The world’s better with me in it? Why is that, pray-tell? My exceptional brain? My research? My connections with Thor and New Asgard?”

“Of course your brain and research are important,” Stephen insisted. “But that isn’t why… I can also visit New Asgard whenever I please, with or without your connections...”

She snorted derisively.

“Are you going to make me say it?” he asked.

Darcy smirked. “Absolutely I am.”

“I... “ he began, trailing off.

Darcy laughed and started to walk down the hall in the same direction Ian had gone. He was probably lost. She’d show him the way to the kitchen.

“May I show you instead?” Stephen ventured, and she stopped walking, turning back.

“I’m intrigued by how you’d do that… considering you could never engage in an intimate sort of relationship with--”

He moved closer to her, cutting her off and reaching for her hand. “May I show you?” he repeated, his voice low and his eyes impossibly dark as he peered into hers.

Her belly swooped and she nodded, hoping like hell she wasn’t just wishful thinking again.

Stephen leaned down to press his lips to hers, and they did, for a tantalizing second before someone cleared their throat.

They both turned towards the sound to see Ian again. “Sorry, but I got lost… which way is the kitchen?”

“Here,” Stephen drew another portal, this one to the kitchen. “Just through there.”

“Right, thanks…” Ian ducked back inside, the portal closing after him.

“Sorry, he’s kind of…”

“Gone,” Stephen finished for her, leaning down once more, his hands cupping her face.

Darcy rose up on her toes and moved into the kiss, her hands gripping his forearms to keep herself steady. Tilting her head to deepen the kiss she let her eyes flutter closed when his tongue swept briefly into her mouth.

It was kind of insane how good he was at this.

#Strangeshock #Darcy Lewis #Stephen Strange #Darcy x Stephen #Stephen x Darcy #Darcy/Stephen #Stephen/Darcy #orange #speedrun prompts #artemisgarden

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mearcatsreturns · 3 years

Note

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“[email protected]”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“[email protected]”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

#er #nbc er #er ff #luby #luby ff #abby lockhart #luka kovac #<3 #my fanfic

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

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

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

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

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

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

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

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

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

#indruck #meet ugy #indrid cold/ duck newton #orc au #victorian au #trans duck newton

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infinitelytheheartexpands · 3 years

Text

Responses from the Opera Screencaps Captioning Quiz

Hello, everyone, and thank you for taking my quiz! I had SO MUCH fun reading your captions-- there were several times I literally started crying from laughing so hard at the amazingness of your work! With that in mind, the captions (which I will continue to add onto as more people take it):

(also, thank you to @dichterfuerstin for translating the German captions I got)

originally taken from: the Wiener Staatsoper’s 2020 production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, featuring Regula Mühlemann (center) as Blonde, Michael Laurenz (right) as Pedrillo, and an unnamed extra (left) as the Grim Reaper

Responses:

(Backstage warm-up) “ok so someone dropped the pulse”

me and my friends watching the fire burn after doing arson

Introducing the polycule to the parents

*boom* ... did...you guys hear that too?

Ma Signor !

Knight in whinging armour gone wrong, look at how he holds the egg. Polyamory with weird knight and death.

the father, son and the holy ghost are very gay

the gays meeting for brunch, 2021, colorized

chicken lady forces death and a very flamboyantly homosexual anthropomorphized pink bird to be parents of her egg (they dont want to be)

That’s just me and my friends on our night out (before covid rip)-- closest

A Good Friday night

good omens (2019)

["the pocket guide to boy/girl/mischief" meme] who's the boy and who's the mischief though????

Papageno and Papagena take their first-born egg trick-or-treating

Angry Birds - The Musical. A pig stole an egg and the bird unites with death to take revenge.

I love my bird wife

Someone got murdered during the funky chicken dance

throuple murders child and steals sibling of said child

When you and your friends have widely different tastes in literature

angel leading twink to his rightful place (hell)

draco malfoy from a very potter musical and a death eater are very much in the wrong show

What have I gotten myself into

Mlm/wlw solidarity but I’m not telling who is who

A woman stands with a pink dipshit with an egg and a reaper.

A bird-couple makes a pact with Death, sacrificing their first-born bird-child in order to bring good luck upon their unborn bird-baby

There are three types of people on Halloween:

Uh oh, I don’t think the mother hen is very happy about this...

oh god, they’ve invented seussical. It’s too early!

gay brunch

Three little maids from school are we

guys maybe if we dress gay enough we can distract everyone from the dead flapper bee in the back

those three killed a duck for her egg and are facing the conswquences.

Duck has egg with human, shocked and upset due to biological impossibility

When you bout to make a banging omelet so you invite your fellow queers

"No mortal man could pass that egg, but heaven shall repair your rectum."

originally taken from: the Salzburg Festival’s 2007 production of Hector Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, featuring Maija Kovalevska (left) as Teresa Balducci, Laurent Naouri (center, in chimney) as Fieramosca, and Burkhard Fritz (right) as Benvenuto Cellini

Responses:

“In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.” - a midsummer night’s dream, act v scene 1

"ah yes a prime specimen. see here, right in this box is our one of a kind hob goblin that can be all yours for the low low price of your soul"

what, YOU don't have a special eavesdropping chimney window?

Hänsel und Gretel plotting against the witch

man takes a wrong turn and ends up in a chimney, catches his girlfriend cheating-- closest

when you end up third wheeling the straight couple

lady cheats on her leather jacket wearing scummy boyfriend and when he unexpectedly comes home she hides the lover in the chimney

A straight girl and her gay best friend gossip about stuff idk

Idk Shakespeare?

experimental couples therapy feat. the chimney mf from mary poppins

Area Couple Inadvertently Traps Santa-in-Training in Chimney as they Attempt Rooftop Flirting

Landlords laugh over student renter's misfortune

I never asked for this

Ay yo lil mama lemme whisper in your ear

voyeurist listens to sandy and Danny from grease

Psssst! Did you hear about Susan? You won’t believe it!

lady and the tramp meets beauty and the beast?

human trafficking

And for just $30 you too could have your own tiny brick cage!

Psst I’m wearing assless chaps under this dress

A couple tortures a man in a box.

It's all fun and games being stuck in a chimney until your greasy uncle steals your crush from right above you-- okay ngl this could actually be a great Don Pasquale concept

Taking eavesdropping to the next level

Will you two stop being lovey dovey and let me out? SUMMER LOVIN, HAPPENED SO FAST—

overhearing how people talk about you when they think they're alone puts you in the shithouse

Does he know we can see him?

dear god, i am so fucking hungry, yall please just do whatever heterosexuals do so i can go eat a popsicle

the human version of the trash man from sesame street is realizing that those two are going to fuck on his trash can

Tmw you capture an angry short dude and start trashtalking him where he can hear

Omg what if we kissed but we actually kissed the lil goblin man under us

"Remember, don't feed him after midnight"

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Leonardo Estevez (right, on fake horse) as Le Comte d’Oberthal

Responses:

“When I said we needed to drain the swamp I didn’t think there were people actually living there”

horse? what horse? no sir i dont know what horse youre referring to.

definitely don't have a napoleon complex going on

King stole La Scala‘s Lohengrin set

king breaks all his horses, has to use statue dragged by servants as transportation because he’s too kingly too walk

Emperor Söder and his subjects on a carnival procession

man on horse makes a big deal out of being on a horse

That’s not Zeffirelli because the horse is not alive

Who the fuck put a horse on the stage

isn't this that picture of napoleon on the horse

Area Count Thinks Citizens will be Intimidated by his Extremely Fake-looking Horse Statue-- closest

Everyone wants their turn on the giant plaster horse. Police are there to make sure everyone waits their turn.

Night out with the lads

Local royalty horrified at the state of his own damn kingdom

gay army fights different gay aesthetics-- hi author how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person on this quiz

Well at least I LOOK badass

ceasar if he hadn't gotten stabbed (colourised)

some soldiers jumped out of my kindergarten fairytale collection book to burn the don carlos flemish deputies at the stake

It’s just a model

Is that how you feel pulling up in your Honda Civic, Madge?

Someone rides a horse statue in public.

Just a normal party with the bros.

what is this, some kind of crossover episode?

Terribly sorry for all the fuss, it’s just, that is, my horse is afraid of neck ruffles. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s—whoaaa there—he said he was a french courtier in a past life and he’s allergic to English fashion

Horse seller, listen to me! I am riding into battle. I need your strongest horse. - We have horses at home. - The horses at home:

All hail Incitatus the king

we are not ripping off shakespeare’s henry viii. what the fuck. this is about lenny xi you uncultured swine, go drown in a pit of your own farts

oh god is that hamilton

Guy Removed From Art Museum For Sitting On Statue, more at eleven

Gay <3

Officer: This horse... is a virgin! Crowd: *cheers*

originally taken from: the Parma Verdi Festival’s 2017 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Stiffelio, featuring Maria Katzarava (left) as Lina and Luciano Ganci (right) as Stiffelio

Responses:

That One kid in class

its a mEntAL BreAkDowN *final countdown but kazoo*

*record scratch* yeah, that's me. you're probably wondering how I got here-- closest

Dad keeps monologuing, teenager is done

left: all of my concerned friends, right: my emo ass having a very public mental breakdown

the demons in the corner of my room when im just trying to sleep

lady gets mansplained to (do i need to say more, we've all been there)

It’s probably an area baritone telling off an area soprano-- sorry; it’s a tenor. soprano is right though.

That was a fake horse in the last photo right?

child comes out as gay to father at a particularly bad time

dissociation solves everything

I can't believe it's not butter

Honey we talked about this

My sleep paralysis demon is Crowley from supernatural

child has nightmare of boring job

When you start dating a singer but he won’t stop practicing at night

just an average day in a hetero marriage

what do i do my wife's having period cramps again

Stop having an existential crisis. It’s time to sing!

“No son of mine will kin Gomez Addams under MY roof”

Crowley stares into space while a teen has post nut clarity.

When he wont stop reciting jordan peterson monologues!!

Do you realize how effed you are?

Ugh, not this lecture again! Dad’s Practicing For His Experimental Indie Band Again

asking your parents for help with your own personal situation and them just ranting off about what they went through instead of helping in any way

Will he shut up already!

no one tell him he’s yelling in the wrong direction, no one tell him plnsbdjddhdj

this kid is tired of his dad listening to rush limbaugh (a man who claimed to be pro life but died anyway)

Me internally vs externally

Daddy issues

originally taken from: the Grand Théâtre de Genève’s 2020 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots, featuring several chorus members

Responses:

It’s the deadly eye Of Poogley-pie. Look away, look away, As you walk by, ‘Cause whoever looks right at it Surely will die. It’s a good thing you didn’t … You did? … Good-bye. - shel Silverstein

why the fuckith? my good sir, i beg of you to put your pants back on

I hate this itchy hat

Titanic Extras hear that they have to do extra hours

people waiting to board the titanic watch someone fall off the plank

pov: you’re a time traveler

guy in the flatcap is embarrassed by patriotism and pathos

No idea. For some reason Le Marseillaise comes to mind

Is this from Harry Potter?

disneyland main street usa workers on strike

local tries to hide behind Newsies cap to avoid unpleasant but inevitable conversations. meanwhile, some very fashionable ladies look on.

"Thank fuck, 2020 was just a dream after all"

“We gather here today because this bitch got exactly what she deserved” “heaven!” “Stfu Stephanie she’s going to hell and we all know it”-- not quite but this basically happens later on in the opera (and act) so yeah (except the person in question very much Did Not Deserve It)

dc movie filter on bridgerton

america?

looks like my history teacher paused the prohibition documentary again

Who still wears page boy hats bro?

Coming out to a room of people who Already Knew That

Bitches are relieved at some party.

Several drunk people exiting getting off the subway attempting to seem sober and rational but realizing they have somehow lost all of their possessions

How tf do I act natural in this situation-- closest

“do you think any of them noticed that I don��t know the pledge of allegiance”

It's too fucking hot outside for this outfit

when hyyh yoonkook ending just hits different

pedestrians watch in horror as the triangle shirtwaist factory burns and the workers throw themselves out of the windows from a dozen stories up

Starting the pledge of allegiance be like

He's having a heart attack oh no oh god oh fuck

originally taken from: if I remember correctly, the Semperoper Dresden’s 2018 semi-staging of Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus, with Jonas Kaufmann as Gabriel von Eisenstein

Responses:

“William Shakespeare wrote: "To thine own self be true And it must follow, as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man" I believe this wise statement best applies to a woman A blonde woman Over the past three years she taught me And showed us all That being true to yourself never goes out of style Ladies and gentlemen Our valedictorian: Elle Woods!” - legally blonde the musical

eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs

woooooorrrrd

Finally Jonas has graduated! It’s about time, considering he’s an international star.

what my professors think they look like

Prof. Dr. Dr. When someone tells him there are more than two genders

'and since you've now graduated high school, you'll be entering college etc. blablabla' .........meanwhile, there's a whole row of graduates daring each other to chug the cheap vodka one of them has brought in gallons (yes that happened at my graduation, lol)

Jonas darling baby <3-- can’t argue with that

I just realized I have no idea what the actual fuck happens in an opera

ok this one is just what jonas kaufmann always wears you can't fool me.

"as valedictorian i will share with you the importance of loving the floor"

"Yes, mother, my art degree will make me money!"

Graduation speakers are out, singers are in

Senior year takes a new meaninbg

mansplainer professor explains the concept of feminism to women

Your Prof when you finally turn in that missing assignment be like

younger boris johnson (derogatory)

jonas kaufmann retires from opera and takes up motivational speaking

What a fine graduation evening we’re having today

-70 points for slytherin you all have no swag

A man with a college hat sings.

An obviously greying actor trying to play a university student in a low-budget porn parody

How it feels to graduate high school after being held back for years

East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the status quo and define ourselves as we choose. Where a jock can cook up a mean crème brûlée, and a brainiac can break it down on the dance floor-

I may not have been "cool" in high school, but in ten years you will all be working for me!

I finally got my GED!

that one guy in ur intro to cultural anthropology class who mansplains to the professor somehow fucking graduated

he;s just graduating and taking his speech too serously idk

Graduation speeches with that one dude who got held back 3 times

Smrt

originally taken from: the Metropolitan Opera’s 2011 staging of Gioachino Rossini’s Le Comte Ory with Joyce DiDonato (left) as Isolier, Diana Damrau (center) as Countess Adèle, and Juan Diego Florez (right) as Le Comte Ory (disguised as a hermit)

Responses:

There is something very [disturbing grunts] About polyamorous couples - polyamorous, Chris Fleming

jinkies

femme fatale (including to herself)

I’ll have a threesome soon !

Hot guy walks by, everyone swoons.

thirdwheeling friend does not realize the other two are having sex

When your girlfriend had „just two beers“ again

jesus is exasperated about having to drag the two ladies towards doing what he needs them to do instead of purple dramatically declaring suicidal intent over the smallest trivial matters and red being equally dramatic about declaring that it's not the way! stay alive! i love you!!

The throuple is thriving

Get off the milf

orgy

my last three braincells because im a horny slut

countess receives too much love and is confused on how to react

Rasputin's lesser known romp with a much older czarina of russia

Woman's soul leaves body

Jesus and co. are worried after another woman gets pregnant without having sex

bisexual looks at photos of celebrity couples

When you go to the party to socialize with new people but your weirdo friend group starts getting clingy

Jesus cumming

one of those weird church christmas pageants but everybody's drunk

What have I done

Hozier??????????

Jesus assfucks some purple lady being hugged.

This time, the chick IS the magnet

An affair/threesome gone awry (2019 colorized)

What do you mean they canceled GLOW?

“I TOLD you it was cashmere!”

Are you wearing the - - The Gucci dress? Yes I am.

It's not what it looks like!

jesus is fucking that one cheerleader who grew up to be a suburban mom with one (1) super cool dress she stole from her kid who is desperately hugging her middle begging for it back because the spring fling is coming up and jason might actually make eye contact with her for more than three seconds.

jesus and mary magdaline and some other bitch

I’m at a bar and these drunk girls are flirting with me, do I lOOK GAY?!

Shrek 5, jesus's return

c. 2025 First attempt of an Officer and his Wife with a Handmaiden (colourized)

just about all of these are close lol

originally taken from: the Bolshoi Theater’s 1993 staging of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s The Maid of Orléans, featuring Nina Rautio (left) as Joan of Arc and Vyacheslav Pochapsky (right) as Thibaut d’Arc

Responses:

Don’t look, I’m still pooping

yall, the audacity of this man. he fuckin talked to me

*i can't even tell you how wrong you are* *it would be insulting to ME*-- closest

Cospeto!

„No I’m not talking to you, you keep cracking bad jokes!“ - „But I got another!“

when you’re mad at him but he says he’ll buy you food if you cheer up

When I’m wallowing in self-pity but my friends won’t comfort me

right: wanna fuck ;) left: yeah, fuck OFF lmao

Her face is screaming “don’t tell me what to do”

Yeah I got nothing

gay man tries to hit on a lesbian bc he thinks she's a twink. she's not amused but she's watching this happen anyway

me tired of MET's bullshit and them organising a Netrebko, known blackface apologist, a recital during Black History Month. (sorry im still fucking salty lol)

"stop smiling at me like that I'm trying to pout over here"

"I got fleas, you got fleas... wanna fuck?"

I have the best idea!

Haha nooooo don’t hit me with that bat you’re so sexxyy

lesbian is bothered by dilf

Me trying to flirt

if call me by your name was hetero and set in america

how many more dad jokes can i take before i explode

So. You’ve gotten yourself in a little pickle again.

What if we fought in the Russian revolution together ✨???????... unless??

Two people flirt in a poor place of town/

"If you ask me what I've got under this dirty, shapeless tunic one more time I swear to god I will kick your rotting teeth in"

You look like ur gonna kill me but ok

Really? You again?

Okay, I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes, do you think it’s safe to—oh god, he’s still there.

Have you seen Godot?

she is tired of everyone’s shit. she has done so many derivatives it physically pains her to see a variable. dont test her. ur icarus rn.

idk pick better pictures-- I HAVE DIED THE SHEER AUDACITY AND HUBRIS I LOVE THIS

200% done with your crap

Homeless man has fucking legs of steel n is gonna show off his Russian dance moves

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2019 staging of Paul Dukas’ Ariane et Barbe-bleue, featuring Sophie Koch (right) as Ariane and I don’t remember who the person on the left is rip me

Responses:

The knight who wore this into battle sure was swaggy

dear god its hiddeous

Capitalism

Knight in shining armour gone even more wrong.

ghost contemplates the safety of spiky motorcycle helmet

„Stop! He feels bullied!“

'this is my newest take for jesus's crucifixion crown ...... what do you mean they already put him up'

That’s probably a really expensive magic helmet idk. IDK-- closest

Omg I love the adventure zone!

minesweeper (windows xp)

"Okay whatever you do don't touch the shiny spiky ball" "It's so shiny I wanna touch it"

Taking down the trash way too late

IT'S NOT A PHASE MOM

Darth Vader got stuck in the freezer.... again. Leia isn’t happy

Star Wars 2030

“And here is the very latest in motorcycle helmet trends” “Look, I only came to the mall for a pair of socks “

futuristic kkk

long-suffering jewelry store attendant really wants to retire

Put it down put it down put it down

“Hmm no you should see a doctor about that”

A weird ass crown is presented

The creation of sars-cov-2: an experimental Eurotrance nightclub art piece gone horribly wrong

How it feels to want something that u cant have

AND WE WILL CALL IT—SPIKE MAN actually do you think that’s too obvious?? Because of the—yeah, because of the spikes?? See, that’s what I’m worried about. I want it to be SCARY

I know it's risky but... lube me up

use the force luke.

that is a weird fleshlight

When you get an ugly gift and need to find a way to get rid of it, so your family member/friend offers to smash it

Touch the orb

originally taken from: the Opera Vlaanderen’s 2019 staging of Fromental Halévy’s La Juive, with Nicole Chevalier (left, with bottle) as Princess Eudoxie, Enea Scala (center, under table) as Prince Léopold, and Roy Cornelius Smith (right) as Éléazar

Responses:

When no one comes to your birthday party :(

fantastic, day 487 of mischief and they have yet to find my masterful hiding spot

i really wonder who he thinks he's playing footsie with

Marriage crisis. Reason sits under the table-- closest but not in the way you think (after all, the man under the table IS a tenor).

the last supper afterparty after jesus left

When you order the last supper on wish

espionage at the Politischer Rosenmontag

Probably the wrong opera but is that Leporello under the table

Now THIS is a Good Friday night

this was every birthday party i went to between the ages of 5 and 11

that awkward moment when you drop your fork under the table but when you re-emerge everyone else has left except one drunk lady and the guy trying to deal with her

After the last supper

Tfw you arrive to the dinner party too early and have to hide until a more fashionable hour

When the cishets aren’t home

waiter hides from customers

Nobody: My dog every time I’m eating:

what's left of the homies Jesus had dinner with

university chem lab experiment gone terribly wrong

I’ve been under the table FOR 30 MINUTES

Set your friends up by tossing them off under the table, they’ll think it’s each other n fall in luv

Someone hids under a table

"You're about to see an surreptitious-under-the-table-dick-sucking master at work"

5 yr old me trying to eat the desert under the table without my parents finding out be like:

They never invite me to their parties!

Just another girl’s night in

Oops! Didn’t notice you the table.

dionysus - bts (2019, colorized)

just a normal episode of eric andre (eric is the one under the table)

Just a normal day with the boys

Thievery

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Kate Aldrich (left, surrounded by women in white) as Fidès and John Osborn (center, looking like a Jesus doppelganger) as Jean de Leyde

Responses:

Hold up, is that Eggman above Jesus?

holy disco

Looks like Tannhäuser. Our lord and saviour Richard Wagner. Now I need to be saved from that.

catholicism

me defending pineapple on pizza (THANK YOU)

jesus but hes about to be abducted by the alien ufo above him

Emmmmmmm Heaven? Idk

Lord of the rings?

ewww christianity gross

"behold, I am Important"

"Seriously?? It's not ACTUALLY pyjama day? Fuck you guys!"

Jesus at the Disco

Jesus Finds The Molerat People Who Live Under Bethlehem

disco is heaven

Want to join my new religion?

the kkk

church christmas pageant where everyone's sober but it's based on the director's fever dream

Am I the only one who sees the giant demon? Just me? Okay...

“Oh god I think I’m starting my period”

A party is held with a priest in the middle

"Let's get this secret Vatican sex party rolling!"

The new avengers endgame set is looking great!!

You know, guys, I try not to be a bother but...I can’t help but feel like I missed a dress code memo for this wedding??? It’s cocktail, right??”

Jesus visits Hogwarts

I must really stink if no one will even come close to me

the extra ass funeral i DESERVE

star wars life day

A cult at it’s best-- closest

Shrek 5, Jesus is still there I guess

originally taken from: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden’s 2013 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Les vêpres siciliennes, featuring Bryan Hymel (left, standing) as Henri, Lianna Haroutounian (center, kneeling in the black gown) as Duchess Hélène, and Erwin Schrott (kneeling to her right) as Jean Procida

Responses:

When the director’s like “great rehearsal guys, just a few notes before I let you go” but it’s already 9:13 and your mom’s waiting in the parking lot

loyalist of subjects

bow before your queen

They forgot to take down the stage boxes after the Vienna opera ball but the show must go on.

somebody forgot to book chairs for this funeral

Me sharing God’s (Hayley koyoko) word on the discord server

mass execution bc the oboe solo sucked ass-- closest

That’s too many black suits I can’t see shit

I can’t even tell what’s going on here

8th grade school assembly about how it's uncool to shit on the walls at school

let's all get fancy so we can go to the opera and sit on the stage (idk this one's hard lol)

"Yes i am a time traveller, now don't freak out"

Tfw you forget to pay your lighting bills

White guys make decisions that will benefit them and screw someone that’s not a white guy over-- OUCH but that is too real (although not really in context here)

dead man gives speech at his own funeral

brotus and the boys ??? last meeting before the stabbing

high society social function ends in mass murder-- right opera, wrong scene

Someone walks into the talent show stage with a dog

Black-dressed bitches worship a man.

Worst school assembly of all time

POV:You're the window in the classroom and someone said "its snowing"

When the conductor shows up fashionably late to the orchestra concert

That's what you get for choosing the cheapest ticket option, get back in the mud where you belong

theyre just trying to jump into a grave at a funeral leabe them alone this is normal

oh my god he really whipped his dick out in front of everyone, this is just like in 1776 guys, except some women are actually in the room this time,

A funeral, stop wearing so much black

I want to slap their bald heads like rice

originally taken from: the Teatro Real Madrid’s 2018 staging of Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, featuring Roberto Tagliavini (right) as Raimondo

Responses:

Crowd “haha!! Looks like someone missed the all-black memo!! Now it’s laugh-in-your-face time! / Guy on the floor (whispering to guy against wall): go, save yourself! I’ll hold them off...”

if i leave now i wont be a witness and can tell the police i had no idea

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Guy in the back pretends to help but is to far away to even know what’s going on.

priest walks in on beginning of an orgy, contemplated joining but is too scared-

when someone brings up capitalism but you’re just trying to play minecraft

lol lets trample this guy while the judge isnt looking

Again. Too many black costumes

Loved this Dostoevsky novel

i would know if opera directors were more creative with clothing choices ngl

me on parties lol

"imma just sneak out of here while everyone else is distracted"

"Where did he get this flooring!? Amazing!"

Everyone act normal!

The tell tale heart but they got REALLY drunk

man tposes to ward off vampires after being caught undercover

boys ???? night

the priest really shouldn't have visited the insane asylum-- closest

He’s FINE everyone’s been hit by a car before

Something happens in a room.

Perks of being a wallflower

There's always that one person in the fight whos trying not to get involved when they really wanna

Oh good, they’re all posing for a Rembrandt painting, I can just sneeeeaaak out the back here...

The gamer livestreaming Resident Evil + everyone watching the stream ? waiting for him to open the door just knowing it will trigger a chase scene

Quick!

the guy t posing in the back is regretting his every decision.-- also accurate

the us senate jumps ted cruz, some other wack ass gop senator is trying to sneak away

...I spoke too soon, however this is a James Bond mission

Queers help fellow queer do math but it's a struggle

#opera #opera tag #results #screencaps #captions #caption #caption this #caption contest #this seems to have gone over well and I am Pleased

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yootaesowlwrites · 3 years

Text

Scenario Prompts - [1]

Prompts are below the cut from what you can choose from for when my requests are open.

Please make sure to add ‘C’ along with the number of your choice when requesting.

More prompts

[ one ]

Credit to the people that created these prompts, I found them on pinterest and on tumblr.

C1— we just had a one-night stand but a massive storm hit so now we’re snowed in, hello awkward

C2— you were supposed to have a beautiful winter wedding but you were ditched during the vows and my idiot sibling/best friend just cracked a joke about how maybe I’d finally tell you how I feel about you and you heard

C3— someone assumed we’re dating but I didn’t realize that’s what they meant until it was too late and I had committed us to a couples’ retreat weekend

C4— you jokingly propose to me at the bar but it ends up all over social media so now I have to track you down because I don’t even know your name

C5— you were a dick to my coworker so I’ve been writing insults on your cups and why the hell do you keep coming back here anyway

C6— you’re my ex who I’ve never really gotten over and you just surprised me by paying for my coffee and I’m not prepared to see you

C7— my coworker wrote my cell phone number on your cup when I wasn’t paying attention and now you’re texting me

C8— I’ve been getting really creative with my foam art and I do some naughty-bits to amuse my coworker on their drink when you mistakenly take it and think I’m hitting on you

C9— you join me at my table thinking I’m your blind date and you don’t stop talking about how nervous you are for this date so I don’t get a chance to tell you that you have the wrong person when your actual date comes up and thinks you were hitting on me while waiting for them

C10— when people hit on me and ask for my number, I usually make up a number to put on their cups, and today I just happened to write your number on your cup so you call me out

C11— I’m sorry for laughing at you walking into the glass door/window, please let me help you up

C12— I know your sign says ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ but can I please give you a really long explanation as to what has led to me desperately needing coffee without a shirt or shoes

C13— you dropped to your knee to tie your shoe but suddenly, people are congratulating us on getting engaged and we just scored free coffee so we roll with it

C14— I ask you to come look at houses with me and the real estate agent just gave a very convincing speech as to why this backyard would be a great place for a wedding

C15— I like to go skinny dipping by myself at 5 am when the sun starts to rise and you’ve started to go running at that time

C16— it’s almost 3 am so I go down to the lake to skinny dip and you decide to join me but you don’t realize I’m naked

C17— everyone assumed we were going to end up together, but it’s your engagement party and you overhear me talking about how I’m in love with you

C18— we agree that this is until one of us meets someone else but I think you just met someone else and I’m freaking out

C19— my drunk friend announces in the bar that I’m in love with you, but we didn’t know you were here with your friends too

C20— my email address is really close to the popular person’s, so you think you’re emailing them and I think I have a secret admirer and when the truth comes out, we’re both in too deep

C21— six months ago we slept together and I never expected to find you outside my front door in tears asking if you could stay the night because you have nowhere else to go

C22— I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story

C23— I’m at the 24/7 gym at 2 in the morning and I thought I was alone so I’m singing in the showers, but when you start singing with me, I’m startled and slip so the first time we meet, we’re both wet and naked

C24— my twin clearly did something to piss you off, but you obviously don’t know I’m a twin so I’m listening to you tell me how much of an asshole I am and am very amused and it’s making you angrier

C25— you’re a celebrity/prince/princess/etc. who has decided to don a fake persona to go to school undercover and I figure it out within the first month of class but I keep your secret until the whole thing blows up in your face and you need help hiding from the paparazzi

C26— I like to go skinny dipping by myself at 5 am when the sun starts to rise and you’ve started to go running at that time

C27— it’s almost 3 am so I go down to the lake to skinny dip and you decide to join me but you don’t realize I’m naked

C28— after a huge fight, we fall out of touch, but it’s our high school reunion and I don’t want to lose you again

C29— you overhear me talking to our mutual friend about how I’m scared that you won’t feel the same way about me

C30— I strip because I enjoy it and it’s good money, but I didn’t expect to be hired for your friend’s bachelor party.

C31— we fall asleep on the couch watching Netflix together and when I wake up, our fingers are intertwined

C32— you misdial at a telephone booth and ask in a very upset voice if I can pick you up, and I don’t know why, but I ask where you are so I can pick you up

C33— six months ago we slept together and I never expected to find you outside my front door in tears asking if you could stay the night because you have nowhere else to go

C34— I ducked into this tiny bakery to get out of the rain, but oh my goodness, it smells so good here that I might just have to stop for a bit and try just one cookie…

C35— I have been having the crappiest week ever, but you surprised me with a bubble bath and comfort food and I cannot even right now. What did I do to deserve you?

C36— Character A comes home from work one day to find Character B on the couch, wrapped up in blankets and wearing one of Character A’s favourite sweatshirts. There’s a box of tissues next to them and Character B looks absolutely feverish and awful

C37— I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 am in the morning and when I asked you what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then you threw up on my feet and then fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that’s why your here right now also what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger’s backyard in the middle of the night.

C38— You live in the apartment above me and your water pipe burst and is flooding into my apartment and you can hear me yelling so you come down to my apartment to see what’s going on and witness me standing in my kitchen/bathroom/whatever, holding an umbrella, screaming at the water pouring out of my ceiling and crying because I have no idea what to do and we both just kinda stand there in shock as my stuff gets ruined and you let me crash in your apartment until my apartment gets fixed because you feel bad.

C39— I’ve been in love with you since you first moved in and I finally built up the courage to knock on your door but when you answered you had just woken up and didn’t have a shirt on so I ran away

C40— I locked myself out of my apartment so I have to climb out your window and onto my balcony

C41— You’re drunk and walked into the wrong apartment and fell asleep on my couch oh god you’re going to be so confused in the morning

C42— Your laundry got mixed up with mine somehow and now we’re sitting in silence sorting underwear

C43— I walked in on your ex yelling at you so you grabbed me and kissed me so she’d go away and I’m kind of freaked out I literally just met you last week

C44— Ice breaks underneath Character A’s feet and Character B sees when they’re walking past the lake and saves them.

C45— You walked here in a blizzard to get your hot chocolate but you forgot your wallet at home, here, let me buy your drink for you.

C46— Mistaking Character A for someone else, Character B runs up to them and hugs them out of nowhere… or worse, punches them

#prompts #prompts list #athenathesharkwrites

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thesetrashimagines · 4 years

Text

The Man Pt.4

A Peaky Blinders Imagine (reader insert)

Warnings: Fighting, blood, broken bones, losing of teeth, swearing, and a very vivid description of a bullet wound.

Illustration is from here. Creds to Jonathan McGonnell for the concept art.

Pt.3 Pt.5

Summary: The fights have begun.

AN: It’s another long one, sorry! Hope you like it though :)

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen!” You heard the microphone squeek to life then Peter’s voice boom through it. “I am so glad to see all of you here tonight! And look at all of those familiar faces!” Peter was the announcer tonight, said he didn’t want to go home to the missus all bruised up.

He went on his usually spiel about boxing and threw in some jokes here and there. You ignored him. Taking another look at yourself fully dressed, you were filled with anxiousness. Hercules was a lot bigger than you, but so was every man you fought. Most of their arms were the size of your head. You hopped from one foot to the other, to shake the feeling off. A series of knocks came from the door, “Adi? Nik is about to start.” You tossed everything back into your bag and went for the door. “Wanna go watch Nikki kick some arse?” Cal had the biggest smile on his face, “Yeah let’s go,”

Both of you walked to the front and saw a row of seats with some faces you recognized. The Shelby’s took up one end of the row, Finn sat next to the woman you saw at the store, ‘should’ve guessed she’d be here.’, then it was Polly, her son, the capped man, Tommy, and lastly Arthur. Sat beside Arthur was Theo and beside him was Dante. “You took long enough Adi.” “Bite me Dante.” He chuckled while you took the seat next to him and Cal planted himself in the unclaimed seat.

“Your lucky shorts?” Dante flicked his head to your shorts, “Yep.” You crossed your arms and leaned forward, “‘ello Theodore!” The large man shifted your way, and so did the Shelby’s along side of him. “Adi! Glad you joined us!” You smiled, “You know I wouldn’t miss one of Niks fights.”

Arthurs’ head poked out from behind Theos’ arm, “Ya think Nik will win?” You shrugged, “Can’t say. Don’t you want to keep it interesting?” “Why you know something we don’t?” Flashing a toothy smile you answered, “You’ve never watched Nikolai Elis fight?” He blinked, “That’s the Nikolai Elis?” Theo clapped a hand on Arthurs back, “Yes lad who’d you think we were? Amatuers?” Cal laughed and leaned over you, “Come on now Arthur you didn’t think Peter would be friends with just anbody?” The man stuttered, “I knew you lot were well known boxers but-”

Tommy interrupted, “Adonis, Cal. You haven’t met the rest of the Shelby’s have ya?” Looking to him you shook your head. “this is Pol, Ada, and John.” He pointed to each person, with a tight lipped smile you responded, “Hello.”

Cal waved, “Hi!” but your introductions got cut short by Peter jogging up to the mic. “Is everyone ready for a fight?” Cheers and whoops filled the arena. “That’s what we like to here! Alrighty, bring ‘em up.” Nik entered from the left side of the ring, you and the boys cheered for him. Dante called out, “You’ve got this one Nik!” He winked in your direction as a response. Then Isaiah entered from the right and most, if not all, of the Peaky Blinders stood up and cheered. “Kick his fucking arse Isaiah!” Finn shot a fist into the air which Isaiah returned. Then both Nik and Isaiah were called to the middle of the ring by Peter.

“Lads listen here now. I want a clean fight, this ain’t no backwater bullshit alright?” They nodded, “Okay so no hits to the groin, no stomping on each other, and no biting. Got that?” They nodded again. “Good! Ladies and gentlemen we have in the right corner, Isaiah Jesus!” Isaiah faced the crowd and rose both arms, “And in the left we have Nikolai Elis!” Nik waved an arm. “Okay let’s tap gloves boys and get on with it.” Both men stepped forward. Isaiah hit Nik’s hand and jumped back.

People started yelling immediatly. Isaiah jumped around for bit before taking the first plunge, almost as if he knew, Nik blocked the outstretched fist. They went in a circle, Isaiah went for another punch. This time Nik turned slightly and took it to his shoulder. Planting his feet firmly, Nik threw his first hit; punching Isaiah square in the face. The boy staggered back a bit, arms low to his side.

“Raise them arms Isaiah!” Arthur yelled. Isaiah’s arms came up to block his face, seeing his bare torso, Nik took his chance and hit Isaiah 3 times. Then he swung his arm back and delivered a left hook to the side of Isaiah’s ear. This time Isaiah jumped back and bounced on the balls of his feet to shake himself off. He watched Nik stand there in a defensive stance and stare at him. Isaiah ducked down and got underneath Nik’s arms. He punched over, and over, and over. You could hear Nik’s breath come out in puffs.

“The legs Nikki!” Dante added to your advice, “Fold him Nik!” Isaiah’s hits were getting weaker so Nik dropped his elbow into his shoulder. Then, while Isaiah had his back arched, Nik took a step and hooked his foot behind Isaiahs knee and pulled. The ring shook from the impact and the bell rung. Nik waited for Isaiah to get up before going into his corner. Cal stood and walked over to him, you could see them talk to each other then share a fistbump. Cal came back over and whispered to the 3 of you, “He’s gonna take him out this next round. Said he’s done playing nice after that kid tried to beat his kidneys to a pulp.” You all chuckled and focused back on the fight.

Nik stuck to his word. In the first few minutes he let Isaiah tire himself out, every punch Isaiah gave, Nik blocked. Then in just seconds Isaiah was out. Nik hit Isaiah in the gut causing him to hunch slightly, a right hook to his jaw, and an uppercut to finish him off. Isaiah rolled over onto his stomach and his blood dripped onto the floor. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Nik grabbed Isaiah’s leg and bent it towards his head. The sound in the arena was deafening but you could still hear the pained groans coming from Isaiah. He slapped the ring floor. Nik dropped his leg and stepped away from the boy as people came into the ring to help him stand. “And we have a winner! Nik Elis!” Peter raised Nik’s arm into the air. You all shot up clapping and cheering.

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Finn and Dante stood facing each other as Peter went over the same set of rules. Then bumped gloves. Right off the bat Dante hit Finn with a round of punches to the stomach. The quick attack took Finn off guard but he recovered and swung at Dante, hitting him in the face. You could tell that Finn had more of a ‘prefessional’ way to his fighting style. His throws were more thought out than Isaiah’s. Though his defense against kicks needed to be brushed up on. Dante saw this and went with everything he had. “He’s kicking the shit outta that kid.” You turned to Cal, “That’s gonna get him in the end.” “Good we’ve told him enough times to conserve his engery in matches.” Theo grunted in agreement and folded his arms, “ ‘e’s gonna get a good one to the face in a minute.” On que Finn hit Dante with a left hook to the jaw. Dante spat out blood and smiled. He was riled up now. The two of them dodged and blocked, their speed was almost equal, almost. Dante took a step to the left and Finn mirrored but as soon as Finn settled into his stance, he dropped. Dante had roundhouse kicked Finn in the face, Cal stood up and cheered, “Atta boy Dante!” At the call of his name Dante looked up and gave another bloody smile. In his moment of distraction Dante failed to notice Finn getting ready to kick his feet from under him.

Now both men wrestled on the floor trying to get the other into a lock. In the end Finn was able to secure Dante arm behind his back. Dante hated tapping out, you could see his mind go through every possible way to get out.

“Don’t let go of his hand Dante!” Theo called out.

While laying on the floor Dante held out a thumbs up. And with whatever strength Dante had left he used and got out from under Finn. Moving quickly, Dante put Finn into a headlock and gave him 2 punches to the face. Finn twisted himself out of Dante’s hold and threw a fist to the side of his face. Dante took a few steps back and Finn followed, he didn’t stop until he was against the ropes; he jumped backwards into them and allowed them to send him forward into Finn. Knocking both of them down, Dante put Finn into a leg lock. They lid there on the floor for a bit with Finn trying his hardest not to tap. Eventually he did. “Winner by forfeit, Dante!” You all stood up again and celebrated.

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There was a small intermission before the next match. “Cal!” Bonnie Gold came bounding over to your small group, “Bonnie!” Cal jumped up and hugged him. “We’re fighting next,” Cal nodded, “Yeah can’t wait to see what new tricks you’ve got” Bonnie said hello to the rest of you and began talking. His father came shortly after and said they had to get go. “I’m gonna get my arse handed to me.” You giggled at Cal, “Yes you are and I have front row seats.”

Nik and Dante came back to join you. Theo looked over and smiled at Dante, “Look at that lip.” Dante smiled back the best he could, “What you want me to give ya a kiss Theo?” He pouted his lips out, “Yeah Theo give us winners a kiss.” Nik joined in and started to make kissing sounds. “Oi piss off you!” Theo put his arms out to hold back the two of them.

From the microphone, Peter cleared his throat.

“As most people know these next two fighters have versed before,” Almost as to prove they knew each other, Cal and Bonnie climbed into the ring and wrapped their arms around one another. “You’d guess these two were married. Look at ‘em!” The audience laughed. Peter broke them up, “Get in your corners now, can’t spend the whole night holding each other.” He went over the rules again, “I gotta add an extra special rule for this one. Bonnie, you cannot go pulling Cal’s beautiful ‘air okay?” Cal secured his hair back and yelled out ‘thank you!’ while people laughed and Bonnie nodded. With both men in their corners, Peter stood back and signaled for the bell to ring.

They began side stepping around in a circle. Cal took the first jump forward and threw a punch towards Bonnie’s face but his fist made contact with Bonnie’s forearms instead. Cal went for the torso next, he landed a few shots before Bonnie swung and hit him in the jaw. The force of Bonnie’s hit almost made Cal’s head spin. Bonnie got him good. Cal took a few steps back and shook his head, a few hairs coming loose.

Then as Bonnie went to go for another hit, Cal stepped to the right and hit Bonnie with a combo; two punches to the ribs and one to the side of the head. Bonnie spun around quickly and threw up his arms in defense, Cal tried to kick him in the stomach but Bonnie grabbed his leg and shoved it forward, sending Cal onto his back. Cal didn’t stay down for long though, he threw his bottom half up and jumped once his feet touched the floor. Standing to his full height, he faced Bonnie again. Bonnie kicked Cal a few times in the ribs and Cal made sure to keep his hands high. While Bonnie was winding up for another kick Cal stepped forward and landed a hard punch to Bonnie’s cheek. This time Bonnie’s head swiveled. Cal took a moment to laugh but it was short lived because Bonnie punched him in the eye. He hit the floor like dead weight.

“Fucking hell Bonnie!” Everyone watched Cal curl up and cover his face, “Why’d you go for my money maker!?” Bonnie keened over in a fit of laughter. Cal scooted over to Bonnie and grabbed his arms then rolled on top of him, throwing as many punches as he could before Bonnie put up his arms. Bonnie did put up his arms but not in the way people were expecting, he put his hands onto the back of Cal’s neck and shot his knee up. Cal fell to the side and lid down on his stomach then shot a hand out and slapped Bonnie hard on the pec three times.

Peter ran over to see if Cal was really tapping out, “And the winner is Bonnie Gold!” Bonnie helped Cal up and then they patted each other on the backs. Cal was passed off to the medics and Bonnie hobbled along after them.

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“How’s Theo as a fighter?” Tommy’s voice made you jump, “Theo?” You turned yourself towards him and Arthur. “He’s as good as a guy that’s 226 centimeters tall.” Nik leaned forward to add on, “He’s light on his feet too.” Both men nodded.

“Isn’t Goliath Solomons’ nephrew?” Tommy looked a little surprised, “You know Alfie?” You scoffed, “Who doesn’t?” You mentally winced at the slip up, it probably wasn’t the best idea to tell Tommy that you’ve worked for Alfie before. Ignoring the look Tommy gave you, you turned back to Peter as he took to the middle of the ring again.

“You lot are going to enjoy this one. To make it simple, these men are giants.” Goliath climbed into the ring, “Goliath and-” Theo stepped over the ropes, “Theodore!”

Theo isn’t a agressive, or even violent, man. But watching him box would make you highly doubt that he wasn’t.

It didn't take long after tapping gloves when Theo threw his first hit. It was an uppercut and he landed it. There was a small space of time where Goliath was getting into his stance, and that's when Theo struck. The unexpected hit really threw Goliath off. He was stumbling a bit before finding his footing. He swung aimlessly at Theo, which Theo easily avoided.

Coming back from the dodge, Theo gave Goliath a left hook to his ribcage then another to his right side. Theo bounced back, ready for whatever was thrown at him. Goliath stepped forward, he seemed a little more in the moment now. Theo noticed and raised his arms and hunched, being taller than most of his opponents meant he had to crouch down more to limit the unprotected space of his torso.

Goliath jabbed at Theo's sides and even threw a few punches to Theo's forearms that were blocking his face. Wanting to tire out Goliath, Theo gave a quick succession of easy to dodge hits. Taking note of the shorter man slowing down, Theo knew his fist would be able to break Goliaths defense. So shifting his weight to his back foot, Theo swung his dominant arm forward straight into Goliath's forearms. And just as he predicted, his hand went straight through and made contact with Goliath's face. His entire head shot back from the force. Not letting the moment go to waste, Theo threw another left hook to Goliath's face.

You watched the tooth fly out of Goliath's mouth, "Knock his fucking teeth out Teddy!" You looked up to see Cal standing and hollering at Theo.

"Hey look there's the tooth," Nik nudged your arm and pointed down at the ground where the bloody tooth sat. "Should I pick it up? You know as a souvenir." You shook your head with a laugh, "By all means, go for it." Nik kneeled down and grabbed the tooth.

Looking back up to the fight you saw Goliath swaying. He wasn't gonna last much longer. Theo's light blue gloves had dark red smears on them and when he flicked his wrists, the blood went everywhere.

Theo's next few moves happened fast. His fist hit Goliath's stomach, which sent the boy waddling backwards. Then with another big wound up, he gave Goliath the winning blow. And like a sack of potatoes, Goliath dropped to the floor.

"Knock out!" Peter ran into the ring and put his hand on Theo's back, "And your winner is Theodore!" You and the boy were freaking out. While cheering you looked to the side and gave Thomas a wink.

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You were up next, the last fight of the night. You versus Hercules. The crowd was yelling both of your names, you tried not to let it get you worked up. Being nervous about these kind of things was bad ‘Come on YN you’ve done this thousands of times.’ Maybe it was the thought you might go too far in this fight, that you might hurt Hercules more than intended. ‘Stop thinking like that, you’re not gonna kill him.’ You slapped your face a few times to snap out of it.

“This has been the fight we’ve all been waiting for, Adonis versus Hercules! The fight between gods!” You cringed.

“Hey kid you’re up.” You smiled in thanks to the man opening the door and walked into the arena. Making sure to keep your shoulders back and head held high, you hopped into the ring and not too long after Hercules joined you. He had to be a little over six feet tall. With his strawberry blonde hair styled in a fashionable way and a stupid smirk on his face, he raised his arms to greet the crowd.

You looked around till your gaze fell on the row filled with your friends and new acquaintances. Cal, with his bruised face, hollered while Dante and Nik laughed, Theo smiled and nodded towards you. You gave them a smile and shifted your gaze to the Shelby’s. Ada and Polly were grinning, Finn and Isaiah were looking at you and talking to one another, John was leaned back in his seat with a smug look on his face, Arthur was grooming his mustache in thought, and Tommy just stared at you like he was trying to pick you apart. ‘The fucks his problem?’

“I’m sure you both have heard me go over the rules enough times tonight but-” Peter dragged on about the rules, “Now let’s have a good clean fight.” Hercules nodded and you looked at him expressionless. Peter gestured with his arms for you two to tap, then the bell rang.

You knew Hercules was going to go for the first hit, the confidence oozed out of him. You raised your arms in defense and danced around on your feet, you heard Hercules laugh before he followed you around the ring. You could tell that the fact you weren’t saying anything or showing any emotion was bothering Hercules. He let out a grunt then shot his arm out. Seeing his fist coming towards you, you ducked and went underneath his arm, ending up behind him. He turned to face you again and took another swing, you went underneath his arm again. You waited to see if he would pull the same move again or change his tactic. He didn’t. When his third attempt came towards you, you leaned to the side and gave a right hook to his head then, a straight punch from your left hand to his stomach. He let out a burst of air and hunched over slightly. You bounced around him then sent a swift kick to his back which made him take two steps forward.

You backed up to the other end of the ring. Again you watched and waited.

Hercules stood up straight and turned to look for you, his eyebrows rose when he noticed you were a few feet in front of him. He bounced on his feet and rushed to you, taking a step to the left you hit him in the ribs. Hercules stuck out his arm and turned around fast. His forearm smacking you in the face, your head whipped back and you could hear a few people let out an ‘oooo’. Going with his momentum, Hercules threw a punch to your stomach. You keened over and stumbled backwards, you stayed hunched as Hercules’s thundering steps came at you, he threw another hit to your side. You felt your stitches pop. But you ignored the pain. Hercules put a hand in your hair and went to hit you in the face but you pushed yourself back, out of his reach, and kicked the back of his knee. Now a good foot shorter, you put Hercules’s in a headlock and punched him the face. Two, three, four times you wailed on him before Peter and a few other men came to separate you from the bloodied Hercules. People were yelling at you saying how you were cheating, ‘How am I cheating by using his own move against him?’ You scoffed a laugh and stood in your corner. Nik came rushing over.

“Good play Adi!” He was smiling from ear to ear. “What’s the plan?” Meeting his eyes you shrugged, “Maybe knock the fucker out.” You picked up your water canister and took a gulp, “Well you got him good” Nik had his arms up on the rope leaning against them. “I know.” You watched his eyes widen, “Your side’s bleeding!” You put the canister back down, “I know. I already told the medics it’s just a small scratch.” Nik put his head on his folded arms, “I shouldn’t be surprised.” You ruffled his hair and smiled, “Stop worrying, I’ve got a fight to win.”

“Let’s get our lovely fighters back in the middle!” At Peter’s words Nik patted your shin and smiled back, “Good luck YN.” You stared at the back of his head as he walked back to his seat.

You stalked forward and looked at Hercules in the eyes then glanced up, his left eyebrow was split. “Alright we had a good first round, keep it up.” Peter dropped his hand between the two of you and got out of the ring. Hercules immediatley threw a punch at your face, no doubt trying to get you back for splitting his brow. But his fist smacked into your arms as you raised them to protect yourself. Hercules then threw a hit to your unprotected torso though before he made contact, you swung a right hook into the side of his face, making his head turn with it. He took one step to the right and you landed another hit to his jaw. He finally put his right arm up to block you. You could tell he was a little dazed so you jumped backwards as he swung about blindly. You wanted this to be a fair fight, you wanted everyone to watch you knock him out with nothing but pure skill.

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“He’s like a snake,” Nik looked to his side and saw that Polly had taken Theos seat. “Huh?” She smiled, “he reminds me of a snake. Sitting back and watching for his prey’s next move, and when the moment is right, he strikes.” Nik chuckled, “I guess so.” Cal looked at Polly in confusion, “Adi? a snake? Noooo, if anything he’s a puma. Stalks his food when he’s hungry and when he’s full, takes a nap in the sun.” Cal and the rest of the men laughed, “Yes cause if it’s anything that Adonis enjoys, it’s sleep.” Nik turned back to Polly, “If we’re being honest with you here Polly, Adonis has this, sixth sense almost. It’s like he knows what his opppenents are going to do. He can read anybody like a book.”

Polly raised her brows, “He can read people?” Dante leaned forward, “He’s like a dog, he knows when somethings up. It’s like his senses are heightened.” Next to Polly, Tommy spoke. “By the sounds of it, Adonis is an entire zoo.” Dante laughed and shook his head, “Now you’re getting the hang of things Tom!”

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You studied Hercules while he came back from his dazed state. His jaw was starting to get develope a welt and blood trickled down his face from the split in his brow, and his eye were deadset on you. There was anger in his eyes, you could see that from a mile away, he was mad you were beating him so easily.

The taller man got back into his stance and started walking in a circle which you copied. You started closing the circle and Hercules followed, now you were standing a few feet away from each other. Hercules smirked at you and in return you stared blankly. His fist shot forward and hit you in the cheek, you quickly put up your arms and tried to stand your ground but with the force behind Hercules’s punches, it was getting harder. You had to think fast. So you dropped to the floor, you weren’t near anything so Hercules couldn’t trapped you, it seemed like a good idea in the moment but of course something had to go wrong.

When getting to the floor your foot slipped, making you land on your back. The bottom of Hercules’s boot was all you could see. You raised your arms and blocked the foot, in the distance you heard the bell ding and people yelling. Wrapping your hands around Hercules’s leg you pulled him down and tossed him to your side but before you could get on top of him, arms pulled you back. “Adi I’ve got you mate, I’ve got ya.” Peter. You spun around, “If he fucking does that again Peter, I swear to God I’ll-” Peter put his hands up to calm you down, “I know what you’ll do Thomas told me and Nik what happened in the Garrison.”

You blinked at him a couple of times, “Oh...”

“Yeah oh. You have some explaining to do after this.” You laughed, “Of course dad.” You touched his arm and went back into your corner. You could hear the harsh whispers being thrown at Hercules. He diserved it after all, making an illegal move like that.

“One sitation to Hercules.” Peters voice was strick in the microphone. “In the middle please,” Peter looked between the two of you. “Kicking is off the table because apprently someone can’t follow the rules.” Peter was talking only to the two of you now. “You make that move again and you’re out, got it?” Hercules sighed, “Yeah I got it after the first ten fucking times you told me.” Peter’s jaw glenched. “Fight!.” He dropped his arm and left the ring.

You didn’t wait this time. You threw 3 quick hits to Hercules stomach. Then an uppercut when he bent over. With his head tilted back, you shot punch after punch into his ribcage. At some point you felt a bone snap under your gloves. Hercules shouted out in pain.

He grabbed one of your out stretched arms and bent it behind your back. He was gonna try and get you to summit. Thinking 5 steps ahead of him, you slipped your hand out of his and slid it up to just above his elbow. Your back was to his chest and then you bent your knees and started to pull. You put your other hand onto his neck when his head came to the side of yours and just like that, Hercules was flat on his ass in front of you with his arm twisted up.

He tried grabbing you with his opposite arm but with every move you would step just out of reach. You leaned down the tiniest bit and spoke into his ear, “If you move anymore you’ll dislocate your shoulder.” He scoffed and went to grab you again, “A small thing like you couldn’t do shit.” He started to get up.

You twisted his arm a little further and he screamed and grabbed at the shoulder joint, “You’re gonna break it!” You rose a brow, “I remember saying if you moved anymore you’ll be the one to break it.” He let out another yell, “If you think I’m tapping out, you’re fucking wrong!” You shrugged your shoulders, “Alright.”

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“What’s he doing?!” Cal was freaking out, “I don’t know...” Theo answered, “maybe he’s waiting for him to tap?” Dante let out some air, “After his boot nearly squished him? No he’s gonna break his arm.” Nik rubbed his face, “Adonis won’t break his arm.”

“You sure about that?” Nik looked to his right, past Polly and Tommy, to see John. “It’s a pressional fight, Adonis knows the rules.” John nodded slowly then looked back to the ring, Nik stared for a bit longer then followed suit.

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Guess you had to go with your first plan. ‘Knock the fucker out’

Hercules was on his feet but in a crouched position and still holding onto his shoulder. You felt the arm in your hold try to bend forward, ‘Maybe I should let him.’ You thought to yourself.

If you let go right now he could only do one of two things: Spin around and try to get at you, or, Stand up and try to get at you. You sighed, pulled back his arm just the smallest amount then dropped it. Hercules let out a yelp and held his sore shoulder. You didn’t move. “Get out of there Adi!” It was Dante, you felt the sides of your mouth curl at the thought of the 4 men sitting together and worrying over their ‘little brother’.

Hercules’s shadow pulled you back into the fight, he was standing up. It didn’t take long for him to throw a punch to your face. You knew he split your lip when it felt wet, ‘fucksake.’ You brought your hands up to your face and dodged the next swing. You noticed Hercules was only one of his arms to punch and was using the other as a blocker, this gave you an idea. Leaning away from his swing, you planted your foot behind you and used the power of your legs to throw a hook to the vulenarable part of his face. He staggered to the side. You stepped with him and threw another hook, his arms lowered a little and that’s when you hit him. Right in the center of his face, a sickening crunch filled the air and blood poured down his face. He started to fall back and you hit him again. Hercules eyes crossed and he slumped to the floor.

Peter slid into the ring and raised your right arm, “We have our winner! Adonis!”

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You were sitting in the changing room staring at your bruised face, “Could’ve been worse I suppose...” Just as you were about to pull off your shirt, knocks and yells sounded from outside your door. “Adi you bastard! Let us in!” You sighed, “Okay! Don’t get your panties in a twist Cal.” Opening the door you let the bodies flood in. Strangers were first to enter. Then the boys stumbled in; Theo, Cal, Dante, and Nik. Then some of the Shelby’s followed, Arthur, John, and Finn while Tommy, Ada, and Polly hovered around the doorway.

Next thing you knew you were being lifted in a bear hug and shook around, “Ahaha our little Adi knocked that fucker out!” You let out a wheeze, “Theo I can’t breath.” He dropped you and clapped a hand onto your shoulder, “You wrecked him mate!” You smiled, “That was the plan I guess.” Words of congratulations were said by mostly everybody.

Dante was sat on the counter, “I swear to God you were gonna break his arm.” You laughed, “It’s funny you say that cause Hercules said the same thing,” You squeezed through the crowd, getting patted on the back while doing it. You reached the mirror and looked at yourself again then to Dante, “I told him if he moved anymore he’d disslocate his shoulder. Then the cunt said I couldn’t do shit to ‘im.” You turned on the faucet and washed the blood, Hercules’s blood, from your face and neck. “Showed him didn’t I?” Dante chuckled and shoved you, “You did more than that Adi.”

You could hear Nik shooing people out of the room. “D’you know any of them?” You looked to the crowded hall, “No.” Nik pushed Ada, Polly, and Tommy into the changeroom, “Can’t have you lot fending for yourselves out there.” Ada laughed, “I don’t think anyone has said that to a Shelby before.” Nik put his hand on her back as he walked around her, “Well theres a first for everything huh?” John was glaring at him, “What’s that suppose to mean?” Nik was beside you looking over your injuries, “It means that not everyone has to be alone and fight against the world by themselves.” He turned your face towards him, “So philosophical Nikki.” He slapped your cheek lightly, “You don’t even know what the word means.” You pulled back in shock, “I do so!” Nik leaned on his hip on the counter and rose his brows, “What’s it mean then?” Theo opened your bag and dug around for a bit. “Don’t answer him Adonis, you’ll just embarass yourself.” Your jaw dropped, “Aren’t you suppose to be on my side?” Cal and Dante looked at each other and busted out laughing, “What’s got you two cackling?” Cal’s head was tilted back and Dante was holding his stomach, “Adi...” Dante gasped, “Adi...you should know,” Another wheeze, “We never listen to you.” Theo chuckled and walked over to you with a clean shirt in his hand, “Awe don’t pout little brother,” He pinched your cheek, “I’ll knock you on your fucking ass Theodore.” You swatted his hands away.

“Are you always bickering?” You all looked at Polly and Nik answered, “Only sometimes.” You broke eye contact and snatched the shirt out of Theo’s hands, “Do you think you could steal a med kit for me?” Nik pinched the bridge of his nose while Cal spoke up, “Do you want me to just go get one of their medics?” You shook your head, “No I don’t like ‘em”

“Why don’t you like ‘em? They’ll fix you up for free and you can stop stealing shit.” You looked at John, “They’ll half ass it and for your information I only went to the hospital in the first place because-” Peter opened the door. “What’re you yelling about now?” Nik faced him, “Adonis wants to snag a kit from one of your medics.” Peter groaned, “Adi we’ve been over this, they are qualified-”

“I don’t care! I couldn’t give a flying fuck if they’re qualified.” You turned to John and pointed a finger at him, “I also don’t have to explain shit to you.” Your fist clenched the fabric in your hand. “I need some fucking air.” You shoved Peter out of the way and left.

“Adi!”

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“Look what you’ve done now.” Dante said. “Me?! The fucking kid knows my team is legit!”

“Yes but you know how he is!” Dante had his arm out in the direction of the door, “And hows that?” Dante looked to Ada who was sitting on a chair across from him. “He’d rather do things himself. Trust me it took him forever to even let Nik come near him in a 100 mile radius with a fucking dishcloth.” Nik slouched on the counter, “He doesn’t have the best track record with doctors.” Peter huffed a laugh, “He doesn’t have the best track with fucking anybody apparently,” Peter looked to the others, “Did he tell you he broke into their pub?” He jutted his head to Tommy and Arthur. “Peter-”

“No Nik he’s hiding shit from us and I’m done with it.” Cal groaned, “Peter we know he’s into some dodgey stuff.” Peter gawked at Cal, “Dodgey stuff? Cal he killed three men and left on the fucking floor!” The room was silent for a moment. “Did he really?” Tommy looked to Theo’s hazel eyes, “Yeah.” He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, “I guess it makes sense.” Peter put both hands to his face and took a deep breath, “Please Theo, mate, elbrorate.” Theo pulled his shoulders back and spoke, “He leaves for weeks on end with no communication, he doesn’t own a single thing except for whats on his back, and the every growing list of shit he can just do. I don’t know how you never put two and two together Peter, but it’s pretty obvisous Adi isn’t just a boxer.” Peter seemed to calm down when the rest of the group nodded, “I guess I never thought of it like that.” Cal walked over to him and put his arm around Peter’s shoulders, “We never want Peter McFought to think to hard or you’ll blow a casket old man.” The room dissapaited into quiet chuckles.

“So he is an assassin?” Nik glanced at Finn, “Hes a handy man and we’ll leave it at that.” Finn nodded.

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

You wanted to yell, you wanted to punch something, you wanted to break down. But you couldn’t, you wouldn’t do that to yourself.

The cold outside air burned your heated skin. You were at the back of the building in the small alleyway, it was quiet except for the rumble of cars in the distance. It was nice.

You leaned against the wall and ran your hand through your hair, taking a deep breath. ‘I need to leave soon.’ You pulled at your sticky red stained shirt and scoffed a laugh. ‘All I asked for was a fucking med kit. A med kit! And he acted like I told him I slept with his wife!’ You let out another scoff before the firey rage came back and you turned around to punched the wall a couple of times. The air stung your open knuckles, you watched the blood crawl down your fingers and drip onto the pavement.

“Adonis?” Your shoulders stiffened, “Yes Polly?” You heard her heels click on the concrete then felt her hands cradle your own, “Now there was no need for this.” You ripped your hands out of hers, “Don’t fucking tell me about what I need to do.” You looked down the alleyway, “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Her hand touched your chin lightly and turned your head towards her, “I know love.” She slid her hand down your neck and settled it on your chest. “How ‘bout we go and get you all fixed up hmm?” You grabbed her wrist and dropped her hand then nodded, “Ladies first.” She smiled at you and walked back into the building, she looked over her shoulder once in awhile to make sure you were still following her.

She opened the dressing room door and waltzed in, “He’s alright now.” Everybody was sat down at this point. You could feel their eyes all on you as you walked up to the sink and started washing the dried blood away. “You okay Adi?” Nik had his head tilted trying to catch your gaze, “I didn’t mean to yell at all of you.” He smiled kindly and put a hand on your shoulder, “It’s alright mate we shouldn’t have over stepped.” You finally met his eyes, “No Peter was right,” You tuned to face the rest of the room, “I’ll just go see one of your guys.” Peter’s eyes widened, “Adi you don’t have to, I know how you feel about doctors,” You put up a hand, “Yeah well I’m gonna have to get over it at some point, so let me put on my big boy pants and get this fucking thing over and done with.” Peter stood up slowly and left the room.

“So why are you afraid of doctors?” Ada let out a groan, “Arthur you can’t just ask that!” He turned to face his sister, “Why not?” She glared at him, “Because it’s rude.” You attention was caught by the flame lighting Tommy’s cigarette. He took a long drag and let the cloud of smoke out.

“Adi?” You looked to Dante, “Hm?” He looked to the floor surrounding you, “You’re hands are dripping blood everywhere.” You flexed your hand, “Yeah they are. Hope you don’t mind a little blood Tom.” He let out another cloud, “It’s not like I haven’t cleaned up blood left by you before.” You laughed, “Yeah I guess not.” You sat on the floor, “You wanna know something? I still haven’t been paid for that yet.” He let out a chuckle, “No?” You shook your head then lid down with your arms propped behind your head, “Nope. Imagine that, getting sent into a gun smugglers barn, full of armed men, then getting chased and shot at, just to end up in a little pub with the fucking three musketeers trying to kill you.” You shook with laughter, “I couldn’t even keep the nice car either cause you lot shot it up.” John laughed, “What’d you expect? Just to leave?” Before you could answer, Peter and a man with a large bag entered the room.

“Mr. Adonis?” The medic looked around the room for you, “Get up off the floor!” You put a hand out and gave the ‘gimme’ fingers, “Help me up please?” Nik grabbed your hand and hauled you up, “Excuse me Mr. Adonis, I’m gonna have to ask you to please take off your shirt.” Nik froze, “Could we go somewhere else and do this?” His head whipped around to look at you, “Uh well sir there isn’t any better place than here.” He saw you clench your jaw then smile, “I’m gonna keep my shirt on thanks but, do you have any morphine in there? My stitches ripped open in the ring,” Everyone watched you pull up your shirt to just above the wound, “Oh shit. Yes, yes I have morphine.”

The wound was terrible. Just like you said the stitches were ripped open and the skin that once held the thread, looked torn, almost shredded. Blood was crusted around the wound in a weird oval shape while some was still wet and began to trail down your side slowly. You could tell that all the moving you did ripped the edges of the wound, making it longer horizontally.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You looked up to Cal, “Feeling woozy?” He closed his eye and flipped you off. “Can I ask how you got this?” The medic handed you a small bottle of morphine. “It’s a gun shot wound.” He knelt to the floor and looked closer, “Are you sure? this doesn’t-” You finsihed the bottle and tossed it to the ground with a clank, “I’m pretty fucking sure yeah, cause I pulled the bullet out myself. It looks like that because of the fight. You know the stitches tried to keep it closed but then I got hit and it all tore open again.” You looked down at his head, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Adonis,” Peter growled out your name, “knock it off.” You looked to Nik and then jumped back, “Ow fuck! Don’t go sticking your fucking fingers in there you twat!” The man pulled back, “Sorry! Just tryna to make sure there isn’t anything else in there.” You glared at him, “I told you I pulled the bullet out myself. There isn’t any of it left. It was a clean shot from behind, the gun was shit so that’s why it didn’t blow all the way through.” The man on the floor nodded, “Okay I believe you.” You squinted at him, “Just stitch it up and get out.” Peter was about to say something but Nik put a hand to his chest and gave him a look that said ‘don’t’

The morphine had kicked in when he started to thread the needle through your skin, “Since the skin is ripped, the stitches are going to be fragile. Meaning no more fights.” You nodded. “No more fights, got it.”

“All done.” The medic stood up, “Good now leave.” You dropped the edge of your shirt and faced away from him. The door closed, “You’ve got some nerve.” You picked up the discarded shirt you threw in your earlier rage, “Yep.” You tossed the shirt into your bag and then you reached for your water cannister and did the same. “Arthur, Tommy.” You stopped yourself and looked at them, “Your money's over there.” You pointed to a briefcase that was under the counter. “It was nice to meet the rest of you,” You tipped your head towards the rest of the Shelby clan.

“I’m going home now.” You hoisted your bag onto your shoulder and left, still dressed in your boxing gear

“Why is he being so dramatic.” Cal scratched his beard, “He’s pissed off.” Dante scoffed at Nik, “Yeah no shit.” Theo stood up, “I’m going with ‘im” He left out the open door.

“Oh for fuck sakes.” Peter lifted his arms up and then back down. He crouched down and picked up the briefcase. “I hope this can help you forget about the last few minutes.” He handed the case to Tommy, “It’s alright Peter, we all have our moments.”

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

When you got home you stripped out of your gear and put on a clean tank top and some briefs. You felt tired so you went upstairs and lid down in bed. After laying there for what felt like hours, you couldn’t fall asleep.

There was a thud downstairs then there was some harsh whispers. ‘Are they back?’ You stood up and walked down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, standing in your livingroom was 4 men all dressed in dark clothing.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Their heads shot up to you, then one of them held up a pistol to your head, “You’re the one who fucking killed my men.” He gestured his gun to the side, “So this is how it’s gonna work, you come with me nice and quietly and tell me who you work for or,” He cocked his gun, “I blow your fucking brains out right now.”

‘Fuck.’

And that’s part 4! I really hope you guys enjoyed this one, I sure did lol. I apologise if things are a little messy in some parts, I was sorta rushing the writing a little bit. Also I know that the Shelby’s are so out of character but I feel the need to tie them in every chapter so please forgive :(

In the next part though there will most likely be a lot of backstory for the reader (that do be you). Just thought I’d let you guys know so you have a little bit of an idea what’s to come next! As always, thank you so much for reading! <3

Tags: @finallyforgotten

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #ada thorne x reader #john shelby x reader #finn shelby x reader #arthur shelby x ready #michael gray x reader #x reader #reader insert

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 4 years

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We’re All Mad Here | Jurdan College AU

Summary: It’s all for show, I tell myself. To see if I can make him flinch. It’s just a game of Russian Roulette, after all. Harmless, as long as I am the one with the gun.

Rating: T/M

CW: Very mild cursing. Zero explicit content but there is a fun little tease. It’s all very soft focus, though. Also, at the end, a brief flashback of Jude’s backstory in this fic which might be triggering for some. I’ve marked the start of her trigger with a ~~~ in case you want to avoid.

Part I | Part III | WAMH Masterlist | AO3 | Fic Masterlist

Part II- Simmer

Unfortunately Attractive Dude leads me around the counter like he owns the place. If a stranger leading me into a back room is not alarming enough, the mirthful bound in his step makes me all the more suspicious.

I glare very hard at the back of his head and hope he feels it.

“Liliver,” the man says to the white-haired barista as we pass behind her, “Another hot chocolate and one large caramel cappuccino, extra shot, to-go. And make it snappy, we’ve got places to be.”

Liliver throws a sneer over her shoulder. “I’d make it much snappier if you said the magic words.”

“Oh, Liliver. Magic isn’t real,” he croons, “And we both know I’m above begging.”

Liliver looks like she’s considering punching him in the face. If it came down to it, I know I’m not above begging for that. Or cheering. Or joining in.

“Whip?” the man says.

I blink. It takes me a second to realise he’s speaking to me. “Huh?”

A wicked smirk settles on his mouth. “Do you want whip?”

I scrunch my nose.

“No whip,” he says to Liliver, backing toward a set of silver doors in the corner.

“Who puts whipped cream on their cappuccino?” I mutter.

“Weirdos, that’s who,” Liliver tells me. “Off his rocker, this one. Be careful around him.” I give her a conspiratorial smile. I decide I like Liliver.

I decide I hate Unfortunately Attractive Dude when, for reasons entirely uncertain to me, he gives me a shit-eating grin and ducks through the swinging silver doors. Against my better judgement, I follow.

Suddenly, I’m in a small kitchen where everything from the countertops to the large fridge in the corner is made of stainless steel. The air is cold and damp, like a clammy hand. An unsettling combination of wet rags and baking bread permeates the air.

The man busies himself, pulling various items down from shelves and out of cabinets.

“Are we… allowed to be back here?” I ask. He knows the barista, that much is apparent. But surely that doesn’t excuse customers from wandering back on a whim to use the kitchens as their own personal laundromat.

“One never needs permission to be anywhere if one never asks and is never perceived,” he muses. I shoot him an incredulous look and he laughs. “I work here.”

“In that?” I jut my chin at the man’s outfit. His jacket alone is garish. Paired with all the prim and tailored rest, it seems more like something strutting down a high-end runway than any work attire I’ve ever seen.

“No, of course not in this,” he scoffs. “Come sit.” He pats the metal countertop next to the sink before continuing his search, a flurry of black and red.

“Why?” I don’t try to hide my scepticism. Better he knows I am wary of him still than try to be accommodating and find myself axe-murdered.

“Because after I’m done with your shirt,” he says, pausing to look at me, “I need to make sure you’re not hurt.”

How poetic, I think, then narrow my eyes. I mislike the idea of this strange man inspecting an injury conveniently located on my cleavage.

“I told you,” I say, sliding my backpack off my shoulders and setting it on the floor, “I’m fine.” But when I peel out of my coat, a sharp pang shoots across my chest. I cannot help the wince that escapes.

Clearly not fine.

An arch of one dark brow tells me the man agrees with my unspoken thought. His oil-slick eyes rake over me once more, assessing. My traitorous heart does a little leap.

He pulls one shoulder into a half-shrug. “Company policy. Sorry.” His rings clang against the metal as he pats the counter again.

My teeth grit against the sound. “A likely story,” I grumble, though I am not sure he hears me. Already continuing his disassembly of the kitchen cabinets, the man does not respond.

I clamber up onto the counter with no amount of haste and sit begrudgingly amongst his collection of searched-for items: Dish soap, white wine vinegar, rubbing alcohol, a sponge, a large metal mixing bowl. He adds a first-aid kit to the growing horde.

I watch as he removes his many rings from moon pale fingers. They’re long and nimble, and I find myself wondering if he sews, as well. Or perhaps he’s a skilled pianist.

Warmth spreads across my cheeks. Then again, it’s probably a bad idea to think too much on his hands.

He flicks a handle of the faucet and tests the steady stream rushing out. Satisfied, he holds the mixing bowl under the tap.

“It’s my day off,” he tells me while the bowl fills.

“Fascinating.”

“It’s why I’m not in uniform.”

“You’re telling me you chose to wear this?” I wave a hand at his ensemble.

The man turns the faucet off, frowning. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” He places the bowl of warm water on the counter next to me.

“Your coat looks like a bathrobe.”

“I beg your pardon?” He presses a hand to his chest in mock offence. “This jacket happens to be a masterful work of art by a very coveted designer.”

I roll my eyes. He sounds like the most pretentious kind of asshole. If I hadn’t already decided whether to like him or hate him, this would’ve given substantial weight to the latter.

“Yeah, well, it looks like something an old rich dude would wear,” I say. “Probably while having a post-bath cigar and reading the obituary section of the newspaper.”

“Personally, I much prefer the comic section, post-bath,” he mutters, squeezing a dollop of dish soap into the bowl.

Somehow, I can imagine that. This odd man in a bath full of bubbles and oils that smell like the forest, getting out only when his hands go pruny to read the Sunday comics. Then I very much want to un-imagine that.

I shake my head. I need coffee. Now.

“Lucky for you,” the man says, ripping me from my internal spiral into damnation, “You get the privilege of wearing the old dude bathrobe. Give me your shirt.”

He shrugs out of the jacket and holds it out for me, his free hand waiting expectantly for a swap. Those coal-black eyes sparkle with a dare. It’s then that I realise: They are waiting expectantly, too.

As if he anticipates I will blush and ask him to turn around so I can change in some modicum of privacy. Like a good girl. As if he expects I’m the type of woman who is accustomed to gentlemanly behaviour from men.

Little does he know, I don’t much care for chivalry—and I am most certainly not good. If he does not want to give me the courtesy of privacy, then I will not ask it of him.

It is an effort to swallow my pride. With slow hands, I pull my blouse from the waistband of my skirt. I hold his gaze steady, out of spite.

Surprise steals across his face. It is there and then gone, brief as a breeze, and the only thing he yields.

As my fingers graze the top button, a little thrill runs through me. I must be mad for doing this. Between the interview jitters, my state of panic, and a desperate lack of caffeine, I must have completely lost my mind.

Or more likely, there was already something very wrong with me, to begin with.

Sensing my hesitation, the man’s mouth furls at the corners like unrolled parchment that reads: You won’t do it, in the looping, self-important scrawl I imagine someone like him must possess. That small smirk, the second dare.

I glare at his mouth. The first button is the hardest, but I clench my jaw and undo it; then the next.

He tracks my every move from beneath the eaves of his thick lashes. The sight of him so suspended by the strings of my fingers makes my heart rush, and I am struck by a mix of irritation and dizzying lust.

Cool air pebbles the skin on my chest as I work. I take my sweet time about it. This prick wanted a show, so it’s a show I will give him.

My fingers move carefully down the line. Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I knit my brows in feigned concentration and pretend that this is nothing.

Even though my heartbeat is a war drum in my chest.

Even though his gaze is heady and my head is spinning with it.

Even though I am very glad this task does not require me to speak.

This is nothing. This is nothing but three more buttons. His breath hitches as my shirt falls open further. I am a matchstick under his flint-like gaze.

My cheeks blaze. I think about how every bit of this is his fault. I think about how I hate him and his annoying charm for tricking me into coming back here. About his paramour eyes, his satyr’s smile—I think I hate those things most.

Such ire grounds me.

I pop the final button, slip my shirt off one shoulder, then the other. The pale blue fabric pools at my waist, draping over the crooks of my elbows. A subtle shift and I’m pushing my arms flush against my ribcage, giving him the best view.

It’s all for show, I tell myself, over and over. To see if I can make him flinch. It’s just a game of Russian Roulette, after all. Harmless, as long as I am the one with the gun.

When I meet his eyes again, at last, every second of this humiliation is worth it. The man’s arms have fallen slack at his sides. His precious designer jacket all but forgotten, nearly grazing the floor.

Gone is the taunting smirk. Every sharp edge of him smoothed over by wonderment. Or maybe it is consternation.

Either way, I am plagued by the thought that I should very much like to see him dishevelled.

I should like to see him come undone.

I give a coy smile and bat my lashes mockingly. “Did you get a good enough inspection, doctor?”

To my delight, he swallows audibly. Opens his mouth as if to speak, then snaps it shut.

Maybe he needs a doctor, I think and give a little snort. With a roll of my eyes, I try to beat back the tide of my own desire.

I shove my wadded up shirt into his chest, unceremonious. “You’re drooling,” I tell him, my voice miraculously even. That seems to snap him out of it.

He blinks twice, clearing his throat. “Shouldn’t need more than ice and a bit of aloe,” he says, then takes my shirt in his free hand.

I snatch the jacket from his other and shrug it on. My arms slide easily into the satin-lined sleeves. It’s still warm and smells like him. A forest and something burning. I hate that I notice at all—that whatever odious perfume he’s wearing is something I’ve committed to memory. Most of all, I hate the shiver that roils up my spine because of it.

I fold my arms across my chest and risk a glance at the man.

He’s frowning at the bottle of white wine vinegar in his hands. The way he glares at it, you’d think it had committed some heinous crime. There is a slight tinge of pink on his moon-pale cheeks.

A trifle smile tugs at my lips. It’s good to know I get under his skin as much as he gets under mine.

“So,” I say, flipping my hair out from under the jacket, “How do I look?”

He glances in my direction, face unreadable. An unbothered sweep of his gaze. “Not at all like an old man in a bathrobe,” he says, opening the bottle.

With a flourish, he adds a splash of vinegar to the bowl.

“I should hope not,” I say, raising my arms slightly to examine the jacket. “I think I look like the finest baroque rug Insmire has to offer.”

The laugh that barrels from Unfortunately Attractive Dude is genuine. “I’ll pass your compliments along to the artist.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Nonetheless,” he says, “I suspect it’s as close to one as anything you usually give.” He reaches for my shirt and dunks it in the water. Immediately, a bit of the stain lifts away, turning the water a cloudy colour.

He’s not wrong, and it irks me. I shift my gaze back to the jacket.

All things considered, I’m shocked at how well it fits. It’s a little long, and the sleeves swallow my hands in a river of red and black fabric. But what I lack in height, I make up for in other things. The man is lean enough to where the rest of his jacket is filled easily by the swell of my breasts, the sweep of my hips.

“I’ll admit,” he says, swishing the contents of the bowl around with his hands, “It suits you. Might even look better on you than it does on me.”

“Really?” I gasp, a teasing thing.

“I said might,” he mumbles, stirring and pointedly not meeting my eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I most certainly will.”

A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth, but he says nothing and adds dish soap to the bowl.

“You never told me your name,” I blurt. Mostly to fill the silence, but also because my not knowing is starting to get a bit weird.

He furrows his brows as if he’s never been asked the question before. Or he is surprised I even have to ask. Like I said. Self-important.

“I didn’t,” he says, smirking down at the bowl.

I wait. When he does not oblige me, I give him a stern look. “Is that information classified or something?” I ask. “Too personal? Because let me tell you, pal, you’ve seen me in my bra.”

“Yes. And?”

I almost cringe at the reminder. He has probably seen many people in various states of undress. I am no one special.

“And,” I say, pasting a sickly sweet smile on my lips, “I usually like to know the names of people who’ve seen me in my bra.”

“You say that as if it happens often.”

I narrow my eyes, ignoring the blush rising in my cheeks. “And you say that as if you mean to distract me.” He continues to work my shirt around with his hands, dutifully ignoring my glare. “Why won’t you tell me your name?”

“Because,” he says, voice contemplative, “I thought you already knew it.”

“Should I know it?”

He shrugs. “We’re in the same politics lecture. With Dulcamara. You sit in the back row every week.”

“So you’re stalking me.” I’m only half-joking. The other half is starting to get worried that maybe I will end up in tiny little pieces out back if I’m not careful. My eyes flit to the bouquet of knives at the end of the counter.

“No,” he says, adding a squeeze of rubbing alcohol to the mix. “I’m just good with people. And faces.”

While he stirs, I cock my head to the side, trying to dredge up his likeness from the faces in my memory. I’m quite certain if I had ever seen a face like his, I would’ve remembered it.

Though truth be told, Dulcamara’s lectures are the most interesting my department has to offer. I often do not notice the people around me.

“You really don’t know who I am?” He looks at me, brows arched in amusement.

I grit my teeth. “That lecture is one of the busiest ones. And why should I pay attention to the people when the lecture is far more—”

“Gripping?” His grin is a slash of white. “You’d certainly be the first to think so.”

“At least I think for myself,” I snap.

“A good quality to be sure,” he says. “But as driven a person as you are, Jude, I’d have thought you’d be more observant.”

My heart skitters to a halt. It’s one thing to know my face but…

“How do you know my name,” I demand, boring a glare into his skull. “You are stalking me.”

“It’s hardly stalking, darling, if neither of us has any choice in the matter of attending,” he points out. “Besides, it’s really hard to not know your name. Since you answer all of Dulcamara’s questions with such… thoroughness.” Some emotion I can’t quite read, settled so perplexingly between admiration and disdain, feeds his expression as he says this.

I am not entirely sure what to make of it.

But I do know what he’s said is true. I am usually the only voluntary participant in Dulcamara’s lectures. And I suppose if he knows enough about my track record for participation, he probably does go to Royal Greenbriar.

I’m weighing my options when Liliver careens through the door.

“Sorry ‘bout the wait,” she says, making for our counter in the back of the kitchen. She has two steaming cups in her hands, and had I not been sitting so high up, I might’ve dropped to my knees to kiss the ground she walks on.

“Busy out there?” the man-who-has-annoyingly-not-been-named mutters.

“You were at the tail end of the rush,” Liliver says, then frowns. “Though it doesn’t seem like you’re in much of a hurry here.”

She eyes the array of supplies, my shirt in the bowl of now-dirty water, her co-worker’s jacket on my shoulders. She says nothing. Only hands me one of the cups.

“One large caramel cappuccino, extra shot, to-go,” she says, giving me a wink.

I thank her and take a much-needed sip.

Liliver turns to the man. “And one hot chocolate for you, Your Highness.” She makes a mockery of a bow as she hands him his drink.

He scowls but grunts his appreciation, placing the to-go cup on the counter next to him. When he turns back to the bowl, the barista grins wickedly at me. I return it in kind. Yes, I very much like Liliver.

“Any luck with the stain?” she asks the man.

He fishes my blouse out of the bowl. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business, Lil,” he says, then shuffles over a few steps before wringing the fabric over the sink.

“As star employee, anything that happens in my kitchen is my business.” She offers a lewd waggle of her brows.

I take a sip of coffee to hide the blooming heat on my face. I was sure the door had been closed… Then, a small, dreadful thought bubbles to the surface.

Perhaps her coworker has a reputation for luring potential conquests back here. Perhaps he’s done this one-hundred times before, and Liliver has learned the basic machinations of it.

Though it’s doubtful anyone gave a show quite so revealing as mine. Also doubtful he’s had quite that many conquests, even with his considerable beauty. One-hundred is a very high number. Isn’t it?

Still, if I am correct in guessing his design, I vow to make the man pay in more than just coffee and laundering expertise.

“Need I remind you,” Unfortunately Attractive Dude drawls, “It is technically my kitchen always. So I am under no obligation to tell you.”

His kitchen? He’d been modest before, I realise, when he told me he works here.

“Not like you to pull rank,” Liliver huffs, affronted. “What’s got your panties in a knot, Greenbriar? Is it girl troubles? Because if it is—”

But I don’t hear the rest of what she says.

~~~A single word and everything becomes slow, slanting. I stare down at the tile floor. The world warps around me, as if held on the end of a bungee cord stretched taut, and I am about to be flung helpless back into the air.

Something in my stomach curdles. It has nothing to do with the coffee.

“Anyway,” Liliver is saying, her voice very far away, “You asked me to remind you if you’re still here that you have a meeting in ten minutes.”

I am still staring at the grout between tiles. At the grit there. The grime. My skin is awash with the slick feeling of it.

“Yes,” the man says in my periphery. “Thank you, Liliver.”

“For the record, I don’t get paid enough for this,” she says, and I have the vague sense she is heading for the door. “The personal assisting. The moods. The general… weirdness.”

His laugh is muffled, awful. Like the thud of marbles on carpet. “I’ll give you a raise, then.”

“It’s the least you could do,” she sings over her shoulder, and she’s out the door again.

Then, we are alone. But I am not here. I am sometime else.

I feel all that black water clapping at my ears as I swam that day. My lungs burning raw with panic and bile and sea salt. The boat, a little orange firefly flickering in the distance, appearing and disappearing with the rise and fall of waves.

The sea is a lady. When she swallows you whole, she does so without a sound. Drowning is always quiet. So is rage, which is an awful lot like drowning. Everything happens beneath, simmering to the surface like so many bubbles. They were certainly one and the same that day.

I think they are one and the same now.

Flame licks my face, static pricks my tongue. My heart thrashes slow in my chest, a kind of silent drowning. My head is swimming just as poorly. ~~~

When I resurface, I am met with only silence and that one word ringing in my ears.

Greenbriar. Greenbriar. Greenbriar.

☽☽☽☽☽

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AN: Sorry for the major cliffhanger but the evil author in me had to *cue villainous laughter* 😈 so it’s been an age and a half since I last updated this fic, but here it is! Thank you so much for reading!! Hope you enjoyed :) If you did, please let me know in the comments, reblogs, my ask box/inbox. Even if it’s just a keyboard smash, it genuinely brightens my day to read.

I’ve been busy developing the plot for this one and let me tell you, there is SO MUCH to be revealed, I can hardly contain myself. No promises, but I’m about halfway through writing the next chapter so hopefully it will only take me one single age to post that.

If you’d like to be added to the tag list for all future updates of We’re All Mad Here (or any other Jurdan content I post), let me know via comment/ask/message!! Thanks again for reading! Back to the forest now.

-em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Simmer by Hayley Williams

Tag List: @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte @velarhysismine @knifewifejude @danieldesario @annihliation @wickedqueenoffantasy @not-tess @clockworkgraystairs

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midnigtartist · 4 years

Text

Spicy Mermauk

long time since ive posted anything for this au but I promise its still going strong

this fic is m rated and set after Molly and Caleb are already together

also @millimauk did some amazing art to go with it uwu

Caleb knows its Mollymauk who’s entered his study by the sound of gentle foot falls with no accompanying voice announcing their presence. Instead he hears the snap of the door as its shut. Hands come to rest on his shoulders as Mollymauk drops a kiss to the top of his head. Caleb sets aside the pen he was holding, instead reaching up to lay his own hand over Molly’s.

“Hallo Schatz” he murmurs, swiveling his chair around so that he can see the mermaid.

He’s grown so used to Molly walking around stark naked at this point, and maybe that’s not great, but that familiarity is what makes the times Molly does put something on more noteworthy. Currently he’s wearing the long, loose skirt he enjoys so much, Caleb suspects it has something to do with keeping his legs free. He's offered Molly trousers before, but he finds them to constricting. So on the rare occasion that Molly does wear something around the house, it's often this, as well as the bandages around his middle that hide his abdominal gills. They’re as much to keep them from Jester and Beau as they are to keep irritation away from the sensitive organs.

As Caleb turns around Molly drapes his arms over his shoulders and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Working?” he signs.

Caleb nods. “Ja, ja I am going through my notes so that i can compile them into a usable thesis for the conference.” he flushes at the fact that he can find very little in his notes about Molly that aren't riddled with undertones of pinning or outright too vulgar to put in a presentation. “But aahh, you know I think I’ve been at it long enough for now.”

Molly grins, planting his hands on the arms of the chair so he can lean down and capture Caleb's mouth in a searing kiss. When he pulls back, Caleb is almost dazed.

“Good” Molly signs, before taking Caleb’s hands and pulling him out of the chair. The creak of his joints tells Caleb he’s definitely been sitting here too long. “I’ve missed you today.”

“I’m sorry I have not been able to make much time for you today, Mollymauk.” he says, wrapping arms around Molly's waist.

Molly shrugs, nuzzling up against Caleb instead of replying, twining his arms around his neck.

Caleb had never considered how utterly touch starved he was before Molly took up residence with him. But Molly is not shy with his affections and Caleb finds himself growing more and more willing to indulge himself in his idle touches. So he pulls Molly close by the hips and ducks his head down to bury his face in his soft curls, letting some of the tension of the day ebb out of his body. Molly stretches up to press the length of himself to Caleb’s front. Caleb can feel his breath against his neck. It makes him shiver. Hes about to pull away when Molly tightens his grip around his shoulders, nudging his hips forward just enough that Caleb can feel an unmistakable hardness pressing against his thigh. He sucks in a sharp breath. His face flushes with heat as the tone of this chaste embrace quickly shifts

“Mollymauk,,,?”

Molly hums into his ear, the sound quickly becoming a rumbling purr in the other man's chest as he presses impossibly closer.

“Mollymauk are you-?”

A nod against his neck, and then Molly pulls away, looking up at Caleb with his fathomless red eyes.

“I really missed you today” Molly signs. “I was really quite bored, so I had to find ways to entertain myself.” and he smiles a knowing smile that has Caleb’s heart doing flips in his chest.

He sets his hands on Molly’s waist, over the bandages, and Molly shivers. It's almost more than Caleb can stand. Beautiful Mollymauk in nothing but a long, flowing skirt, a noticeable tenting in the front of it that makes his mouth dry with want. “Do ahh-” he lets his hands wander. Slides them down over the swell of Molly's ass to the backs of his thighs, slowly gathering the material in hand until he can brush the pads of his fingers over Molly’s warm skin. “Do you want help with this?”

Molly nods eagerly, rewrapping his arms around Caleb’s neck as Caleb slips his hands up the back of his skirt. It's easy to push the fabric aside and run his palms over every inch of Molly's soft skin, stopping just short of the denting in the front. Molly makes a mournful noise in the back of his throat. Caleb captures it with his lips.

“Okay” he murmurs against the other man’s mouth. “Okay, okay ja, give me one moment.”

With one hand still cupped around the back of Molly’s thigh, Caleb pivots them, turning them towards his desk. Its littered with pages of notes and scraps of paper and other, more important things, he's sure. He disregards all of that, sweeping it aside to make a clear space on the desk. Things go scattering to the floor, Caleb pays them no mind. Instead he bends and wraps arms around Molly’s legs, hoisting him up onto the desk, no small feat in his mind as his thin arms aren’t meant to lift more than a peer reviewed study. Molly quickly tangles fingers into his hair, dragging him down into an open mouthed kiss that causes a groan to catch on the back of Caleb’s tongue. With fumbling fingers, Caleb reaches up to the bandages around Molly’s torso, undoing them with clumsy, stumbling fingers. The wrappings go slack in his hand. Slowly Caleb unravels them, relishing in the way Molly shudders at the soft fabric brushing against tender skin. All the while Mollymauk lays kisses over his jaw, and nips softly at his lips. Clearly desperate. Desperate at the thought of him. Gods, Caleb had not even given himself a moment to consider. To consider Molly bored and listless in his bed, occupying himself with thoughts of him. Touching himself to the thought of him. Caleb draws back to muffle a groan into the side of Mollymauk’s neck, stomach hot and heart throbbing against his rib cage. He’s hopelessly smitten with this beautiful creature, and he cannot fathom how the feeling could be mutual, and yet it is. Surely it is, as Molly takes his face in hand and guilds him back up so that their lips meet.

“A moment-” he breaths, prying Molly off just long enough to get the words out. “A moment bitte”

Mollymauk complies, drawing back with a final nip at Caleb’s lips that leaves him breathless. He presses a swift kiss under Molly’s jaw, where he can feel his pulse hammering under the skin.

“I need to get the door. Just one moment, mein Schatz.”

Molly sighs deeply, but nods, unknotting his arms from around Caleb's neck with an air of deepest disappointment.

Caleb finds that he can't get to the door fast enough. Outside of Mollymauk’s embrace he feels cold, and even his stumbling feet seem to protest the separation. How weak he is for the man. But it wont do to have either of the girls barging in on them. They are already convinced that the time the time he and Molly spend in here is less than scientific. They would only be right about forty percent of the time. Most of their time spent locked in Caleb’s study is utterly professional. And yet sometimes,,,,

As Caleb clicks the lock into place, he hears Molly let out a breathy cry, and he whips around to see what’s happened.

Gods hes looks so debauch like this.

Without a shred of decency, Molly’s leaned back against the wall and thrown his legs wide, palming over the prominent bulge in the front of his skirt. Little, voiceless sighs leave him. Caleb is back at his side in an instant. Sliding between his legs and tipping his head up to catch the mermaid in a deep and desperate kiss. His hands find purchase on Molly’s sides, thumbs ever so gently stroking over the tops of his gills. They flutter and twitch ever so slightly under the rough pads of his thumbs. Each brush of his fingers causes Molly’s breath to hitch until the other man is squirming under his touch, chest heaving every so slightly. He buries his face in the side of Caleb’s neck and keens soundlessly. Occasionally he bites down, drawing a low groan from Caleb himself. Caleb lays a line of wet kisses along the length of his throat. Molly’s hands tighten on his forearms, a request without words.

He's not sure why he's hesitant to bring a hand down to palm Molly through the fabric of his skirt. The majority of the times he's known the mermaid he’s been nude, and certainly this isn't the first time they’ve been intimate with each other. But there’s something about touching Molly’s clothed form that sends a thrill down his spine. Like him being covered adds a layer of obscenity to the whole thing, like Molly is something to be unwrapped, by him, and him alone. He shuddered at the strange thought, and strokes Molly lightly through the loose fabric feeling the hot curve of his cock against his palm. Molly’s back arches, pressing up as Caleb touches him, feather light.

He loves the shiny magenta flush in his cheeks, and how his mouth silently forms the shape of sounds his throat can’t make. Soft cries and low guttural moans that still ring clear in Caleb’s ears from the so few times he's gotten to hear them. Caleb kisses the curve of his horn, then his temple, before bowing his head to kiss his shoulder as well. He feels Molly drag a hand down his arm over his hip, before finally coming around to cup Caleb through the front of his trousers. Caleb's breaths out harshly through his nose at the contact.

“Nien,, nien Schatz” he mutters, careful removing the hand from his crotch.

Molly looks worried, confused as he pulls back, so Caleb brings his hand up to kiss the back of his knuckles and smile fondly at him. “I am going to focus on you right now.”

A light of recognition sparks in Molly's eyes.

“Research?” he signs.

Caleb sighs, cupping Molly’s face in both hands and kissing him sweetly. “I wish you would stop calling our intimate moments ‘research’ I thought that I had made it clear that you mean far more to me than that.”

“Oh I know that” Molly signs. “It's just a good joke yeah?”

Again Caleb sighs, but its colored by the smile that he cannot contain. “If you say so.”he says, kissing Molly sweetly once more before descending upon his throat. He kisses over his clavicle, layer marks over fading marks in a familiar pattern over Molly’s flush and lovely skin. By the time he's made it down to his stomach, lavishing kisses over the expanse of brilliant lavender, Molly is panting.

“This is very lovely.” Caleb says, kissing just above the waistband of the skirt. He’s sunk to his knees, kneeling between Molly’s spread legs. His straining cock pushes against the fabric of the skirt, creating folds that Caleb finds himself rather taken with. “It would be a waste to take it off so soon- if you are willing to leave it on a bit longer, mein Schatz” his gaze flickers quickly up to Molly, who nods.

“Yes” he signs shakily. “Yes” over and over until Caleb drags blunt nail gently over his inner thigh and suddenly Molly’s hands become too preoccupied with gripping the edge of the desk.

Caleb hums against his belly once more. “Alright”

It’s harder to see Molly’s hands from here, he can't see if he's sloppily signing anything. All he has to go on as he kisses and nips his way up the length of the other man’s thigh is the sound of his stuttering breath catching in his chest and sharp, silent gasps. The barely there sounds still sit warm in Caleb’s belly as he drags chapped lips over the inner seam of the mermaid’s thigh. As he approaches the hem of the skirt, he ducks beneath it, drawing a startled gasp from his companion. Fingers tighten against his shoulders, and Caleb presses his self satisfied smile into the heat of Molly’s flushed skin

It's dark under the fabric, the light muted and dim. The air here hot, and thick with the smell of sweat and prespend. He can see Molly’s cock now, pressing insistently against the inside of the skirt that does little to provide him modesty. The fabrie falls over it like drapery where its stands heavy and hard between his thighs. The head is flushed a deep shade of mauve. Caleb feels a pang of sympathy for him. How long had Mollymauk lay there, palming himself before coming to seek Caleb out, Caleb wonders. He draws fingers over the heated flesh, slow and reverent, gently touching each flushed ridge on the underside of Molly’s cock so that his legs tense on either side of him. Had he let idle hands wander across his belly before touching himself over the fabric of the skirt? Or had he hiked it up and out of the way before taking himself in hand. Caleb curls his own hand around the base of him and gives two loose pumps. A hand uncurls from his shirt to grip at the back of his head instead. Caleb imagines Molly with knees bent and a hand fisted around his swollen dick, and he rushes to muffle his strangled moan against the crux of Molly’s thigh.

He wants nothing more than to take the flushed, rigid thing into his mouth and bring Mollymauk all the pleasure he deserves. Wants to bring Molly off to a quick and desperate orgasm, but he forces himself to have some restraint. He leans in, Mollymauk whimpering at the feeling of hot breath along his cock, and kisses the base, feeling Molly shiver all around him as he does. So he does it again. And again and again, kissing his way to the tip of his cock, his head now forming the tent in Molly’s skirt. Caleb gives the tip one shy lick, gathering the sharp taste of it on his tongue, before parting his lips and sliding down the length of him.

Molly thighs go tense around him as hands descend upon his head, scrabbling to find a hold in his hair through the fabric of the skirt. Caleb can hear the way his breath has grown ragged, sharp and desperate, feels the slight quiver in his hips under his hands as he fights to hold them still for Caleb. Caleb draws the flat of his tongue along the underside, eliciting a full body shudder from the man above him.

Only now does Caleb realize that he’s played himself. While under the skirt like this has undoubtedly been sexy, he realizes he's cut himself off from Molly’s pleasure. With no real voice to express it, all Caleb can hear are the sharp, strangled breaths as they catch in Molly’s throat. But he can’t see him. he can't see his face tight with need, a thin line of pleasure creased between his brows. Can’t see the way his mouth hangs open as he pants with it. Can’t watch what the feeling of his lips wrapped around his dick do to him. His head thrown back against the wall, eyes clouding over with desire as Caleb draws those high pitched and keening cries from him. Gods he wishes he could hear him. The deep belly groans and the shouts of pleasure as Caleb sucks him off are a phantom ringing his ears. He grips tighter to Molly’s thighs as the other man’s hips start to thrust forward of their own accorded, and draws back to lick over the head with the flat of his tongue. There’s a disappointed huff of air above him, and Caleb’s lips curl up in a smile.

“You know I do not mean to tease you.” he says, a bold face lie that Mollymauk is not convinced by.

The mermaid whines, a high shrieking sound, and he thrust his hips forward, cock bobbing eagerly into empty air.

“Hush libling.” he soothes, even as his thumbs rubs deep circles into his trembling thighs and his lips ghost over the underside of his cock. “I will see to it that you are taken care of, ja?”

And he does makes good on the promise, taking Molly back into his mouth as far as he can. Sucking roughly as he own resolves begins to break, and bobbing his head up and down the length of him until his jaw is aching in the sweetest way. Above him he can hear Molly’s breath grow shallow and quick. Each breath a gasp and squeak of pleasure as his hands grip tighter to the back of Caleb’s head and his hips move in small aborted thrusts to meet his lips. Caleb takes him deep into his mouth and holds him there in the warm wet heat of it. Until the taste of spending grows sharp against his tongue and Molly’s legs start to quiver, and he quickly releases him.

“Hhhhhaa!”

The sound the leaves Molly’s throat nearly topples Caleb with need. He has to reach down and grip himself through his trousers just to take the edge off his own painfully hard desire. Molly’s cock twitches weeps, a painful looking bruise color now, ball loosening as he draws back from the very edge of his orgasm.

‘Hhhaa haa haaaa”

Even his breathless panting sounds so ruined, and Caleb feels his chest filled with pity and affection. How long had Molly teased himself before seeking him out? How long hand he let his fingers linger on himself before drawing them away in favor of the touch of Caleb’s hand?

“Hush mein Stern” he mutters. He presses a soft kiss to the inside of Molly’s thigh and he jumps at the contact. “Hush Schatzie” he coos, drawing back from under the skirt. “I want to see you.”

Loose plum curls hang over Molly’s eyes and stick to the back of his neck, matted with sweat. His arms quiver and his chest heaves and a flush stains his skin a startling shade of wine from the tops of his cheeks all the way down to his belly. His lips partly slightly, his eyes glassy and features pinched tight with need.

“Ahh ahh”

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes and sweat dews along his skin and suddenly Caleb feels a bit bad for teasing him so much.

“Oh Mollymauk.” he murmurs, pushing himself to stand so that he can cup the other man’s face between his hands.

Molly wastes no time pressing up into the touch. His hands scramble to find purchase on Caleb, tangled in his hair and gripping at the front of his shirt. He whines as he pulls Caleb in, pulling them flush so the can press up desperately into his chest and stares at him with wide pleading eyes. Trying to beg without words. Caleb is quick to draw him in for a kiss, pushing his tongue past the seam of Molly’s mouth so he can taste himself on Caleb’s lips, and Molly groans.

“I want to see you” he repeats, shoving the skirt to the side and taking Molly in hand with little preamble. Molly arcs wildly against his chest. Caleb loops his arm around his waist as he strokes him in earnest now, laying kisses over his jaw. “Mollymauk,,,,,”

“Haaaaa!”

It only takes a few rough strokes to bring Molly to completion. He trembles in Caleb’s arms as his cock leaps in his fist and hot and sticky cover Caleb’s fingers and Molly’s stomach and the skirt too. Caleb gently eases him though it, touching featherlight to his softening dick and kissing his cheeks and his temple until Molly stops shaking in his grasp. When he draws back, Molly is smiling at him, exhausted but content, eyes half lidded and heavy. Caleb’s heart swells and he rushes forward to kiss him, chastely. “You are lovely, mein Schatz.” he says as they draw back. “Was that ahh- that was alright?”

Molly nods languidly, wrapping his arms around the back of Caleb’s neck. Eventually his chest stops heaving and the flush starts to leave his cheeks. Molly droops forward into Caleb’s shoulder and he can't help but chuckle. “Tired?’ he asks. Again Molly nods. “I suppose I ought to get you to bed then.” another nod.

So Caleb helps him down from the desk onto his shaking legs and lays a hand against the small of his back to steady him. They're About halfway down the hall to Molly’s room when Caleb feels a tap on his shoulder He turns, giving Mollymauk a questioning look. The mermaid smiles a tired, but knowing smile at him.

“Again?” he signs.

Caleb feels his flagging erection leap at the single word. He swallows around his suddenly dry throat.

“Gods, Mollymauk,,” He glances at the clock. The girls are not due to be back for another few hours. “I suppose there’s ahhh- time for a bit more “research’,,,” he says in a rush

Molly throws his head back in the silent laugh and Caleb hurries them down the hall.

#widomauk #mermauk au #m rated yall

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always-anxious612 · 4 years

Text

Magic in the Air: Chapter 5

Description: Patton offers to help. That’s all he’s really ever wanted to do. Help his friends. But will that eventually lead to a mess that he wasn’t prepared for?

Pairings: roceit, analogical, intruality, platonic DRLAMP

Warnings: food mention, blood mention, slightly gorey image mention (please let me know if I missed anything or if you want something tagged)

Word Count: 1,746

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

“Watch out!”

The yell came from the living room and at the sound, Patton instinctively ducked (quack), biting his lip as a book slammed into the kitchen wall behind him. He had been doing a lot of that recently…ducking that is. With Roman, Virgil, and Dee all working on their magic over the past few weeks, the household had become a bit of a chaotic mess.

“Sorry, Padre.” Roman apologized coming into the kitchen to grab the book. “You ok?”

“Perfectly dandy, Ro.” Patton grinned, standing up and patting Roman on the back. Roman returned the smile and hurried back to the living room when Logan called his name.

“Hello, Patton.” A smooth voice greeted from the front doorway. Dee made his way into the kitchen to stand next to Patton and sighed gazing int the living room. “How is our favorite prince doing today?”

After Roman had gained a little more confidence, he had started having his lessons separate from Dee once again in order to make the best of all of their schedules. Needless to say, their schedules had become a bit hectic ever since everybody started gaining magic all of a sudden. Even Remus and Patton were swamped with trying to help Logan in his experiments, keep up with their own class schedules and being there for the three struggling with controlling their magic.

“I think he’s doing great. Only one book flew in here today, so that’s a bonus!” Patton cheered, smiling at Dee.

“Oh?” Dee purred letting a soft grin inch its way onto his face. “How marvelous.” Patton nodded in agreement, looking toward the living room where Roman had six things hovering in the air.

“That’s the most he’s gotten to, right?” Patton asked as Roman started moving the things in a circle in the air. It looked like he was juggling without actually touching anything. He’d been working really hard to get that part right. Since he had had his magic a bit longer than the others and now knew a bit more about his limits thanks to…what had happened, he had really mastered just floating the objects and had moved on to rotating them, moving them, and adding more objects. It was amazing to see him improving rather fast, even if he sometimes still lost control of an object or two. After he had set the objects down, he glanced into the kitchen and spotted Dee. With a quick word to Logan, he ran over and jumped at his boyfriend. Dee let out a little oomph as he caught Roman and supported his weight while the actor wrapped his legs around Dee’s waist.

“Did you see, Dee?” He gasped, like an excited child. “I got six objects up this time.”

“I saw, my prince. You did amazing!” Dee encouraged, pecking Roman on the nose.

“I’d say you’re actually improving quite quickly Roman.” Logan chimed in from where he’d come to stand at the doorway of the kitchen. Roman smiled gratefully at him as he finally released Dee.

“Thanks, Lo.”

“I’m only speaking the truth.” Logan replied, smirking softly as Roman blushed at the compliment. As Logan opened his mouth to continue, a heavy thumping on the staircase drew all of their attention.

“Logan, we’re gonna be late for class! You said you’d come get me ten minutes before we had to leave.” Virgil panicked as he rushed suddenly downstairs and headed toward the door. Surprised, Logan checked his watch and cursed under his breath.

“Great job today Roman. Don’t forget that you and Dee have tomorrow off because I have to help Virgil make one of the backgrounds for the play.” Logan reminded as he grabbed his bag and quickly followed Virgil to the door. Patton smiled after them, giggling at how obvious it was that they were dating. They hadn’t outright said it yet, but it wasn’t hard to tell. He knew that Dee knew as well from the knowing looks he kept giving the two. It was great that they got to work in at least one of the same classes together. With Logan being in Theater Design and Technology and Virgil being in Stagecraft, they often worked together on projects for the school’s major productions too. In fact, all of the others were also pursuing careers in theatre: Dee in costume designing, Remus in stage makeup, and Roman in acting. However, Patton himself was majoring in Dance. Sometimes he was a bit sad that he was the only one that never got to help in the production of the plays, but he at least got to help Roman when he was auditioning for a musical and needed help with the dances. Plus, Remus often helped him practice his partnered dances since he had always been interested in the subject. Speaking of Remus…

“Has anyone seen Remus? I have something he needs for his makeup class.” Patton remembered.

“I think he was in his room last I saw him.” Roman answered as he began to get the ingredients to make himself a sandwich.

“Would you like a sandwich Pat?” he offered, looking up.

“Aw, thanks kiddo! That’d be great! Could you make one for Remus too? I don’t think he’s come out of his room all day, so he probably hasn’t eaten.”

“Sure, but I am not adding sardines to his ham sandwich this time. He wants those he can get them himself.”

Patton giggled softly before heading upstairs to get the makeup brushes he had for Remus. He had borrowed them to do his makeup for a costumed dance routine he had to do for class last week and kept forgetting to give them back, but Remus could only last so long making up excuses for why he didn’t have his makeup brushes in a makeup class. He was getting ready to knock on Remus’s door when he heard angry muttering from the other side. Slightly worried, he hesitantly knocked on the door anyway.

“Remus? Kiddo? Roman made some sandwiches for lunch if you want to come and eat” he called. The muttering fell silent but there was no answer.

“Um, Are you ok?” Patton asked hesitantly.

“’M fine.” Remus responded, sounding unconvincing. His answer was much quieter than usual and there was a slight waver to his voice.

“I’m coming in, ok?”

When there was no answer, Patton took that as an ok and cautiously opened the door.

Remus was slumped over at his desk, his head resting on a piece of artwork of a girl with half of her face completely covered in tiny cracks that branched out and bled into the rest of her face and down into her neck…like a china doll that had been dropped and shattered, just on the verge of breaking completely. It was haunting but still beautiful, and though it wasn’t Patton’s type of art, he could still admire the talent and work that went into it.

“That’s beautiful, Remus.” He complimented, still gazing at how intricate the cracks were drawn. Remus snapped his head up and stared at Patton then looked back to his drawing.

“You think?” he asked, chewing his lip as he studied the picture.

“Yeah, of course! The cracks in the face are so intricate and you did her hair so nicely and the way the fractures kinda start to bleed into the rest of her face but fade off. It’s really great. You did amazing.”

“It was gonna be my project for my makeup class. I was gonna add some blood seeping from the cracks and not paint her face so it’d look like an actual fractured human face instead of just a cracked doll and everything! I mean, a cracked china doll is so overdone, right? This way, it’ll look much cooler and probably be a lot creepier. And a bit more gory, with the blood and flesh and stuff.” Remus ranted, smiling at the thought. Patton tried not to grimace at the concept. It really was very cool…just not his type of thing.

“What changed? Did you find a better project to do?” Patton asked noticing that Remus’s smile faded at the question.

“My professor said that it wasn’t possible for someone with my skillset to get it perfected in time and recommended I pick an easier design.”

“What? But that doesn’t make any sense. You’re not going to learn new skills if you don’t challenge yourself. I mean you are in the class to improve your skillset.”

Remus was silent for a minute before speaking again.

“So…you don’t think I have the skillset either?” he asked quietly.

“Wh—No, Remus. That’s not what I meant. Not at all. I actually think this is right up your alley. I’m sure you’d do amazing. I’m just saying even if that’s what he believes, he should still let you do the project. So what if its challenging? You’re there to learn aren’t you? And if you want to push yourself so you can grow, I think he should encourage that not turn you away from it.” Patton pointed out. Remus smiled, but it still seemed too sad for Patton’s taste.

“What if you did it anyway?” he suggested. Remus’s grin suddenly turned mischievous as he raised an eyebrow.

“Patton are you suggesting that I disobey authority? I never thought I’d see the day.” He gasped dramatically. Patton flushed bright red as he slapped Remus’s shoulder playfully.

“I-I just think that if you do it and perfect it anyway, then you can prove it to him that he was wrong.” Patton defended “But this isn’t worth a lot of your grade or anything right? Because it might be best if you don’t test your professor when you can fail the whole class because of it.”

“No, of course not. It’s just a little project.” Remus replied, waving it off and looking away. Patton raised an eyebrow at his suspicious reaction but shrugged it off as Remus continued.

“I need a subject to practice it on though. None of my classmates like to be my subject anymore.” He pouted.

“Well, I could be your subject if you like.” Patton offered.

“You—You will? But this—I mean, this isn’t usually your thing.”

“It’s not but it still looks really cool, and you always help me with my dance routines. It’s the least I could do.”

“Ok, then. Thanks Patty Cakes!” Remus grinned. Patton nodded, hiding a blush.

“Anytime. Now let’s go get those sandwiches.”

Taglist: @catolicabuena @look-ma-im-on-tv @its-always-the-witching-hour @sure-i-exist @wellhellothere09 @star-crossed-shipper @cemmy

#food mention #blood mention #gorey image #roceit #analogical #intruality #platonic drlamp #ts patton #ts roman #ts logan #ts remus #ts virgil #ts deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fics #my fics #cait writes #ts magic au #ts human au

33 notes · View notes

crazycat-88 · 4 years

Text

Male Tiefling Diedrick x Female Reader (NSFW)

Set in modern times but no connection to any of my other stories.

Content: Strong language and Adult themes throughout. Mistaken Identity troupe. Hope you enjoy!

Words: 3,789

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To say you were upset would be an understatement. You were in fact annoyed, frustrated, disgusted and mad as hell. And it was entirely all your boyfriend Brian’s fault. Technically now your ex boyfriend, for better or worse. Definitely for the better you decide with an affirmative nod as you pace the floor of your hotel room.

How the hell did you get here you wonder for the third time that night, tears of frustration yet again trailing down your cheeks. You’d booked a hotel in one of the most romantic cities in the world hoping to spice up your failing relationship and what happened. It ended your relationship, that’s what happened. You should of known when Brian asked that you get connecting rooms rather than share one, but he claimed he needed his own space. The jackass.

Three years. Three years down the drain just like that. The ironic thing was, you weren’t even upset that the relationship had ended, you were upset at the how. The relationship had been failing for months, you had been expecting this, and this vacation was the make it or break it decision. Thinking back on the days events only made you want to cry but you couldn’t help running it through in your head again, trying to think of there had been any signs of this imminent break up.

You had arrived at the hotel in the morning and had spent a brief time unpacking for the expected long weekend. Then you and Brian had gone to an art gallery, after which you went for a walk through the park and fed the ducks. Upon returning to the hotel, you had a mouthwatering meal in the hotels restaurant and enjoyed a pleasant conversation. Brian had invited you back into his hotel room afterwards and with your mind and body prepared to finally break the dry spell of no sex in months, you had gladly accepted.

You’d gone down on the jackass, gone to town and put in your best effort. He’d gotten off and that’s when it all went wrong. You’d been expected him to reciprocate but no, claimed he was too tired and you lost your rag, justifiably so. Then he got mean, saying he wasn’t attracted to you anymore, you’d put on weight and he wasn’t ‘into it’. Then he’d gone on to say that it would be for the best if the relationship ended now rather than later. Prick. Sure you’d put on a few pounds in the last year, but you were loving your new curvy figure.

Shocked at his nasty attitude, you’d walked out and went for a stroll around the city, returning a couple of hours later where you’d ended up at the hotel bar for a drink, or three. Now you were back in your room, pacing the floor debating whether or not to go back to Brian’s room and give him a piece of your mind. How dare he break up with you while on vacation. The walk hadn’t calmed you down at all, if anything the time reflecting had only gotten you more worked up.

Before you could stop yourself you travel the length of the room and violently shove open the connecting door to Brian’s room. Finding it empty but hearing the shower running, you knew exactly where to find him and stomped into the bathroom. He had the curtain pulled shut but you could see his faint outline and by the way he had stilled he knew you were there too.

‘‘We need to talk!’’ You start, using the opening line no man liked to hear. ‘‘You are such a prick, do you know that? You use me to get off and then call me fat. Fat! Have you looked in a mirror recently, cause you ain’t a prize either!’’ On a roll now, you continue, ‘‘You want to know something else? You suck in bed! You wouldn’t know where to find a clit even if it hit you in the face, you ass. I can’t believe I wasted all this time on you, did you ever care for me at all?’’ Out of breath, you wait for a response, any response and your temper rises when he remains silent. ‘‘Brian! Are you even listening to me?’’

You hear him turn off the shower and then he pulls back the curtain, revealing a figure that’s definitely not Brians. Your jaw drops as your gaze travels over his black hooves, blue masculine looking legs, a very impressive sizeable cock, one pointed tail, a muscular abdomen and chest before eventually moving up to his face. He’s got black horns which curl around the back of his pointy ears, long hair which is a darker shade of blue than his skin and striking golden eyes. He is a wet and very naked tiefling.

‘‘You… you're not Brian,’’ you say, picking your jaw up from the floor.

‘‘Nope,’’ he says smirking, his voice rich and smooth like honey. He grabs a towel and starts drying himself off, not even bothering to hide his cock from your gaze. ‘‘The names Diedrick.’’

‘‘Oh my god. I am so sorry,’’ you say mortified. Where the hell was Brian… ‘‘I’m going to go now,’’ you add, stumbling to hurry from the room.

‘‘It was nice to meet you,’’ he calls chuckling, as you reach the threshold of your two rooms. Closing the door behind you, you flop down onto the bed. ‘Oh god’ you groan mortified. You can’t believe you just went off on one to a complete stranger and the things you had told him. When you got your hands on Brian, you were going to kill him.

Phoning reception you learn that Brian had checked out just over an hour ago. The nerve of that man, he’s such a coward running away like this. You can’t believe he’s just left you here without saying anything. Though you suppose, what was left to say. It’s painfully obvious the relationship is over. Nevermind. You would enjoy this weekend here without him regardless. You hadn’t been anywhere in years and you had been really looking forward to a vacation. You weren’t going to let him spoil it.

Settling back in bed, your thoughts drift back to the tiefling in the next room. Now that was one fine specimen of a man. He looked nothing like Brian, and that cock. Fuck! You wouldn’t need a clit to get off on that. And the way the water dripped down is finely sculpted abs made you want to lick him all over. Wondering if he’s single you tell yourself to forget it, even on the off chance he’d be interested in you, he certainly wouldn’t be after berated him for being a prick and shit in bed. Not that you’d been talking about him of course.

You’re actually rather stunned when you realise he never once tried to stop you and wonder what the deal with that is. If some random stranger had barged in on your shower, you’re pretty sure you’d be screaming blue murder.

You make your way down to breakfast the next morning feeling far more in control of your emotions. You’d given yourself a pep talk that morning, swearing you would enjoy this weekend, come what may. Filling up your plate with the wide selection of food on offer, you make your way to one of the window seats, sitting down to enjoy the view. It really was a beautiful city and you enjoy the view while you eat.

A flash of blue captures your attention just as you’re finished eating and you groan when you see it’s Diedrick entering the dining room. Keeping your head down, you pray he doesn’t notice you, subtly watching him as he fills up his plate. He looks good today, wearing fitted black jeans and a black shirt, and his tail curled around one ankle. You find yourself out of luck when he comes over to your table, puts his plate down and sits opposite you.

‘‘Morning... Did you find Brian?’’ He asks, looking at you curiously.

‘‘No. Apparently he’d already checked out,’’ you say, meeting his eyes reluctantly.

‘‘Hmm, sounds like you’re better off without him anyway.’’

‘‘Damn right I am,’’ you say nodding, before looking at him curiously. ‘‘Why didn’t you interrupt me last night when I came into the bathroom?’’

‘‘I was taught that you should never get in the way of a woman on a mission,’’ he says grinning, showing a mouth full of white sharp teeth. ‘‘Also you sounded if you needed to get something off your chest, and don’t you feel better for it now?’’

‘‘Sort off I guess,’’ you say, frowning at him. ‘‘Though I’d feel better if I berated the right person.’’

‘‘Maybe, but it’s done now,’’ he says, before taking a bite of his breakfast. He chews for a moment before swallowing and then looks back up at you to see you still frowning. ‘‘Look on the bright side, you’ll never have to see the idiot again.’’

‘‘Why do you think he’s an idiot?’’ You ask. You think so to obviously but wonder why he does.

‘‘You said he called you fat,’’ he says with a frown. Then he snorts, ‘‘You're a beautiful, curvaceous woman, clearly Brian’s an idiot.’’

‘‘Thanks,’’ you say with a small smile, looking down at your empty plate.

‘‘Also only an idiot doesn’t know where the clit is,’’ he says. He takes a long drink before grinning cheekily, ‘‘Something I’ve never had a problem with just so you know.’’

You chuckle. ‘‘So you say.’’

‘‘I could prove it if you’d like,’’ he says, still grinning. He leans back in his chair with a twinkle in his eye. You’re not sure if he’s actually serious but you are tempted to take him up on his offer, instead you shake your head with a chuckle.

‘‘Maybe another time,’’ you say.

‘‘Of course, I should wine and dine you first shouldn’t I?’’

‘‘It would certainly help,’’ you say, smiling coyly.

‘‘So… what’s your name, where do you come from and why are you here?’’ He asks.

Chuckling you introduce yourself and tell him where you’re from. Going on to say that you came here for a much needed vacation and that it was a last attempt to fix your failing relationship. You also tell him that you’re planning to enjoy this time regardless of what happened, and you plan to see as much of the city as possible in the short time that you are here.

Diedrick listens attentively as you ramble on, leaning forward in his chair, chin balanced in one clawed hand. He nods and shakes his head in the appropriate places. You’re not used to such avid attention and when you finish speaking, you look at him in surprise and he blinks and smiles.

‘‘Well it will take more than one weekend to see everything the city has to offer but I can show you some of the best places if you like?’’ He asks.

‘‘Oh, have you been here often?’’ You ask curiously.

‘‘Actually I’ve lived here for years,’’ he says laughing. ‘‘So I’ll be an excellent guide.’’

‘‘Wait. If you live here why did you book into a hotel?’’

‘‘I’m in hiding,’’ he says, leaning forward and whispering conspicuously. When you frown in confusion he sits back laughing and shaking his head. ‘‘I’m an author and my deadlines almost up for my next book, so my publicist is on my ass about it and I’m hiding from him.’’

‘‘Ah,’’ you say, smiling and nodding understandingly. ‘‘Have you written anything I might of read?’’

‘‘Maybe, depends if you like crime novels?’’

‘‘I’ve read a few,’’ you say nodding. ‘‘Tell me about what you’ve written and I’ll tell you if I’ve read them.’’

‘‘Sure, but first let’s get out of here. I can tell you about what I’ve written as I show you round the city,’’ he says grinning and standing up.

You get up to follow agreeing and he takes your arm as he escorts you out of the hotel. You weren't planning on having a guide but Diedricks interesting and he seems nice. As you make your way to the first destination, Diedrick tells you all about his first couple of books. They were best sellers but you can’t recall reading them, so you make a mental note to do so when you get home.

He takes you to the botanical gardens to start, where you stroll around leisurely admiring the many gardens of flowers and greenhouses. He surprises you with his knowledge of the different types of flowers but then explains he had to do research on them for a book. When you come to a maze in the gardens, he challenges you to race to the centre and when you win he complains dramatically, demanding how as he’s done it several times before which causes a lot of laughter.

After lunch, which you have in a small cosy cafe, he takes you to the museum and then onto an art gallery he claims is better than the one you had gone to the day before. For dinner he takes you to his second favourite restaurant in the city, not wanting to go to his first incase his publicist finds him. Then you move on to an observatory where you can view the stars. He holds your hand as he points out the different constellations naming each one he knows. If he doesn’t know the name he makes it up, often giving them silly names that get you laughing.

You don’t want the day to end but you eventually return to the hotel, where you pause outside your door. Your incredibly tempted to invite him in but for a number of reasons decide that it probably isn’t wise.

‘‘Thank you for today, I had fun,’’ you say, smiling.

‘‘You’re welcome. I had a great time too,’’ he says with a wide smile. ‘‘Tomorrow I’ll show you round the shops and maybe we can go to the beach?’’

‘‘Haven’t you got a book to write? You don’t have to spend all your time with me.’’

‘‘I can write any day of the week, you're only here for a short time and I’d really like to spend more time with you,’’ he says, his hand squeezing your own.

‘‘Alright. I’d like that,’’ you say smiling. ‘‘See you in the morning then?’’

He nods and then raises your hand to his lips, lays a kiss on the back of it before saying goodnight and turning to go to his room, his tail lazily wagging in the air. You call goodnight behind him before going into your room and closing your door. You sigh and tell yourself all the reasons it’s a bad idea to get further involved with Diedrick before going to bed.

The following day passes similarly, with the same amount of laughter and silliness. You stroll around the shops first, picking up a couple of souvenirs to take home with you. Then you move on to the beach, where you struggle to keep your eyes of Diedrick once he strips down to his swimming trunks. Fortunately Diedrick seems to have the same problem as you as he eyes you in your swimsuit. His golden eyes lingering on your breasts.

After sunbathing for awhile, you both go for a swim in the water which turns into a water fight. Splashing water at each other soon turns into a wrestling match where you both struggle to dunk the other in the water. Calling a truce, you both struggle to regain your breath whilst holding onto each other. He smiles when you catch his eye and strokes his hand over your face, pushing your hair back over your ear. That it turn leads to you leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips.

One kiss leads to another and then another until eventually you both agree to get out of the water. You know you are in trouble when kissing Diedrick leads to your heart skipping a beat and having to return home is a depressing thought. Pushing those thoughts aside, you head back to the hotel to shower before going to dinner.

Over dinner Diedrick tells you that he grew up in a small town, where his parents still reside. He also tells you that he has a younger brother that moved to a different city and how he doesn’t get to see him as often as he would like. The more you learn about him, the more you really like him and you call yourself all kinds of stupid for getting so attached after such a small amount of time. After dinner you go with him up to the rooftop bar where you spend the evening dancing. Diedrick’s tail curls around your waist while you dance and he uses it to push and pull you away, creating your own unique kind of dance moves.

You kiss again before deciding it’s time to retire for the evening. By the time you reach the elevator, you could break the sexual tension with a knife and finding yourselves alone he picks you up only to back you against the wall, where he then proceeds to kiss you senseless. As the door opens on your floor, you stumble to your hotel door and fall into the room when you open it.

‘‘This is a bad idea,’’ you say, as you strip of his shirt.

‘‘Why?’’ He asks gasping, as you run your hands down his chest before unbuttoning his trousers.

‘‘I have to return home tomorrow,’’ you explain, removing the rest of his clothes before pushing him back on the bed.

‘‘Yeah… I still want you though, even if I only get one night,’’ he says, watching as you pull of your own clothes, stroking his hand over his hard cock. His golden eyes roam over your body appreciatively as you move towards him, now completely naked.

Straddling his thighs you lean in to kiss him again while you rub yourself over his cock and he wraps his arms around your waist. You gasp when his cock catches your clit and he uses the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue. Pulling back gasping for breath, you tip your head back allowing him to kiss down your neck.

‘‘Condom?’’ You ask almost desperately, wanting him inside you.

‘‘Wallet,’’ he says, before turning you to lie on your back and getting up to get it. With a condom in hand he turns back to see you laying back on the bed with your knees raised. ‘‘Fuck! You really are beautiful,’’ he gasps, his tail wagging excitedly behind him.

You take the condom out of his hand as he joins you on the bed and after ripping it open, slowly roll it down his cock hearing him groan as you do so. He makes you wait before entering you, taking his time while sucking and nibbling on your breasts. While it feels good, it is not enough and clutching at his broad shoulders you beg.

‘‘Please Diedrick, I want you inside.’’

He pulls back from your breasts grinning and positioning himself, enters you frustratingly slowly. Grabbing his muscular ass you pull him into you as you roll your hips up, taking him balls deep with a moan as his cock stretches you.

‘‘Fuck!’’ He swears stilling. ‘‘You’re so tight.’’

Clenching his teeth he starts moving in and out and you meet him, finding a rhythm that you both enjoy. Leaning down he brushes his lips across yours before pulling back to stare into your eyes. It feels like more than just sex and feeling tears in your eyes you have to look away from his intense gaze. Lickinb and sucking at his throat, you move down to nibble on his collar bone. Clearly he enjoys that as he picks up the pace, pounding into you harder and faster and you struggle to meet his thrusts.

‘‘Please, oh- I need,’’ you whimper, feeling close.

‘‘I know,’’ he says, then reaches down to play with your clit.

That does it and with your back arching off the bed, you come, mouth open in a silent scream. As you clench around his cock, it sends Diedrick over the edge and he comes with silent snarl, teeth clenched before slumping over you and breathing heavily as his muscles relax.

‘‘That was… wow,’’ you say, as he moves to lie beside you.

He nods. ‘‘Wow is one word… I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.’’

Smiling you turn and give him a kiss. ‘‘Think you could that again?’’

‘‘Definitely. Just give me a minute,’’ he says chuckling.

You don’t get much sleep that night, making love another two more times before the sun rises. As it does Diedrick turns to you and tells you that your time together doesn’t have to end just because you are returning home.

‘‘Are you talking about a long distance relationship, because those never work,’’ you say, frowning sadly.

‘‘Sure they do and I could visit you every weekend,’’ he says, stroking your hair. ‘‘Don’t forget that I work from home and if things work out like I think they will, I can always move.’’

‘‘You would do that?’’ You ask, your heart pounding.

‘‘Yeah I would,’’ he says, before kissing you.

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

6 Months Later

‘‘Is that the last of your things?’’ You ask Diedrick as he comes through the door with a large box.

‘‘Yep the vans all empty,’’ he says.

‘‘Thank God. I didn’t realise you had so many things,’’ you say looking around at all the boxes that have been unloaded in your apartment.

After six months together and making a relationship work long distance, you had finally made the offer of him coming to live with you permanently. Honestly it made sense, he was almost practically living with you already, spending more time at your place than at his own.

‘‘I know, it’s a problem,’’ he says agreeing. Then he grins, ‘‘Maybe we should look into buying something bigger.’’

‘‘Yeah maybe…’’ you say, still looking around, wondering where everything is going to go.

‘‘We should buy somewhere with lots of bedrooms for all the children we’re going to have,’’ he says, grinning widely and moving to wrap his arms around your waist.

‘‘You can just slow your blue ass down,’’ you say admonishing him. ‘‘I want you all to myself for awhile before we talk about children.’’

Laughing he picks you up, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. ‘‘We can practice in the meantime though right?’’ He asks.

‘‘Definitely,’’ you say, before kissing him.

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Thanks for reading! if you liked it please reblog it. Comments/Likes are also very much appreciated.

My Masterlist.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #tiefling #male monster #male/female #tiefling/reader #monster/human #my writing #my characters

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

I am horribly sick and just want to stab everyone that tries to make me use my incredibly sick throat. May I get a ramble on fangs and feathers? Or even Prompto-Cloud thingy bit thing. (Uuughgi. Sickness makes my memory WORSE. I can't remember its name and honestly F&F was a hit or a miss but it LOOKS RIGHT SO.)

I’m so sorry to hear that!! Ummm let’s go with the Prompto-Cloud thing (Clouds and Moonlit Skies verse btw). Actually *grins* let’s go with a nutty xover.

-Zack and Cloud are ten years old in this. They trip into another dimension and at first don’t realize it. They were busy exploring an old part of the Citadel, Seph is with them, having abandoned his paperwork on Zack’s puppy eyes and Cloud’s teasing. They have fun for a while, poking around dusty old rooms and discovering a new, spacious training ground to trash later.

-Then they get hungry and troop their way for the kitchens to grab a snack.

-They enter the populated part of the Citadel and come face to face with a Crownsguard.

-The Crownsguard isn’t human.

-Well, the upper half of him is, but his lower half is some kind of fluffy tabby house cat, like a centaur, but a cat.

-Both sides stare at each other in astonishment for several very long seconds before the guard shouts in shock and rears back, tail puffing out to stupidly huge proportions as he reaches for his com to ... alert someone.

-Seph acts on pure instinct, lunging for the guard and tackling him to the ground. He knocks the guard out, but not before getting a nasty claw-made gash on one arm and the guard screaming into his link something about “Drautos is here!” Which really shouldn’t be cause for alarm because he works here- except he doesn’t, because he’s half sitting on an unconscious, man-sized half HOUSE CAT person.

-A frantic game of keep-away-what-is-going-on starts up with Noctis, Prompto, and Titus all ducking into rooms and through camera blindspots to avoid the Crownsguard who are ALL centaur cat people (Zack: Cataurs? Cloud: Not the time Zack) eventually though, they get caught, because of course they do, the Citadel is different and the cameras are too many. They get cornered in a very large, grand hallway with lots of very potentially breakable art, surrounded by wild-eyed and tense Crownsguard who range from cat people to deer people to ... is that a ferret over there? Cloud is pretty sure that’s a ferret person.

-Also Cor Leonis is there, tail swishing madly as he clutches at his sword and eyes them, fur bristling slowly as their hunters all seem to finally realize that the “Drautos and unknown intruders” they’ve been chasing are NOT half animal of some kind.

-Zack is the one to break the silence by stage whispering to Cloud, “I thought he’d be a lion. You know, with the name and all.” Seph, uncaring of leaving himself open to attack, takes a moment to facepalm with a heavy sigh while someone in the Crownsguard gives a nervous, semi-hysterical laugh.

-Tension now thoroughly ruined, the three allow themselves to be herded by a stiff-legged, bristling Cor to the Throne Room where the Regis and Clarus of this dimension are. Zack smothers (badly) a giddy laugh at seeing his dad with lion hindquarters (so cliche! Lion King!) and ooing softly over Clarus’s tiger stripes.

-Seph notices something subtly relax in the king despite his bristling tail and the way everyone keeps staring at them like they’re cryptids. That is CONVENIENTLY when Gentiana shows up (as an actual centaur???) and explains that the three of them accidentally slipped through the boundaries between worlds from a nearby world, and that it should wear off within three days time.

-She disappears and the awkward conversations start. It quickly becomes apparent that the ... Taurs are a little bit in awe at the sight of their two-legged status (apparently, as the king explains, all taurs used to be humans but were turned into taurs at the FALL OF SOLHEIM. Cloud wonders if this was how Aerith felt when people gushed over her being an Ancient). It also becomes evident that none of them trust Seph. At all. They keep their eyes on him far more than Zack and Cloud (though Regis does stare at Zack a bit, no doubt it’s weird looking at his son with human legs). Cor looks two steps away from murder at all times while glaring at Seph even as Clarus and Regis argue over where to house them for the three days that will be secure and how to keep this from getting all over the media.

-Finally Cloud snaps at Cor that if he has a problem, come out and say it. Everyone stares at him in astonishment for reasons he can’t fathom (yet) and finally Clarus explains that the Titus Drautos in their universe was a traitor who tried to assassinate Regis and conquer Insomnia. Seph blinks very slowly at that because wat. Why would he work for the people who experimented on him AGAIN. Then he realizes that without his past life memories he probably would have been brainwashed into it yeah. “I can see that,” Seph muses aloud while Zack sputters and Cloud spaces out dangerously at the distance. At the sudden tensing he waves a hand and drawls, “Niflheim and I do not get along.” He pauses, then adds just in case it come up somehow, “I cannot speak for your Titus, but I was forcibly captured out of the Crownsguard, experimented upon, and implanted with an armor unit codenamed Glauca. It did nothing to endear them to me.”

-Zack flings his arms around Seph’s and yells loudly before anyone else can say a word, “He’s mine! You gotta problem with them then fight me!” Zack pauses then adds, “Actually, you gotta problem with him then I’ll sic Prom on you.”

-“I don’t think that’s a very intimidating threat unless you know our Prompto,” Seph points out dryly but Zack loudly shushes him.

-They end up in a guest suite meant for visiting royals, with a few Crownsguard outside to make sure they don’t leave and aren’t disturbed. Of course, because their luck is their luck, the rumors have spread far enough that Regis, Cor, and Clarus are unable to run damage control before the Chocobros of this world hear about it.

-A day into their stay, Regis reluctantly takes the children to visit with Clarus, Cor, and Aulea all as backup. They enter to find all the furniture pushed to the far sides of the room, Titus on one end of the room, all three having what appears to be a mini war complete with battle lines. All three pause in their war, Noctis-Zack calmly dangling from Titus’s fist by his ankle while Prompto-Cloud lies sprawled near the door, feet up by his own head, arms splayed like he’s just been kicked in mid-air and didn’t have time to land right.

-“Are we interrupting something?” Cor asks stiffly. Noctis-Zack just laughs and Cloud attracts more than a few stares as he flips himself upright in a smooth movement utterly impossible for a Taur. Seph casually drops Zack without warning and the boy easily twists to land on his feet. Regis ... reluctantly asks if they would mind meeting their child counterparts plus a few friends, which Zack is all for and the other two fold to his whim. So Regis reluctantly lets the children enter. Noctis thunders up to Zack with bright eyes and gapes at his two-legged status while Cloud finds himself suddenly face to face with 10,000 Rays of Sunshine wearing his face and wagging a tail like a mad thing. Gladio trots up to Noctis while Ignis just kinda watches from next to the adults as the Nocti exchange greetings and then Zack hastily goes to extract Cloud from Prompto, because Cloud looks two inches away from a panic attack and stabbing is not recommended right now (Cor sees the sheer difference between his son and this human version and something in him growls. Why is the human Prompto so quiet, so alert and wary, watching everything, even himself, like it might attack?)

-Prompto deflates a bit at his counterpart’s silence and wariness, not understanding why and Seph breaks the tension by humming, “You know, Zack,” (who is Zack? The Taur adults wonder until human Noctis perks up), “I find myself a bit surprised. I would have been certain that your counterpart wouldn’t be a lion.”

-“Why’s that?” Noctis asks with a head tilt.

-Seph smirks, cool and smug and positively catlike, “Because he’s nothing but a big Puppy.”

-“Oi!” Zack yells but he’s laughing, “I make a great lion!”

-Cloud’s lips twitch against his will and he adds, “Well, this is another dimension. Some differences in temperament are to be expected.”

-Zack puts his hands over his heart with a gasp, blue eyes big and watery, “Cloud- Cloudy- My Cloudy Prompto Cloudy Spiky Buddy! How could you betray me like this??”

-Cloud just raises an eyebrow very slowly.

-Their banter is interrupted by a laugh from Prompto, “You guys are weird,” he says with a tail wag.

-Zack grins back and despite having known his son as a lion cub all his life, Regis can almost see the matching wagging tail on the boy, “You don’t know the half of it! Wanna play something?”

-The kids end up playing a strange mix of tag and the floor is lava (which Ignis RULES at because Ibex and Cloud rules over right behind him because Stubborn Mountain Boi) while Seph watches with fond eyes and finds himself slowly dragged into a conversation with Aulea.

-Some questions are exchanged and answers given, Cor snarls under his breath at the news of Prompto being given up to a neglectful home until finally being adopted by Cor where he belonged, and Regis and Aulea clutch hands when Seph slowly admits that Zack (they’re going by Zack, Cloud, and Seph to differentiate counterparts, claiming it’s an “in joke” and “nicknames”) hasn’t noticed her because he doesn’t recognize her. Queen Aulea died when Zack was a year old.

-But it’s not all sad things with the adults, Seph tells them little anecdotes of his world, and Regis notes how much more ... mellow this Titus is. Cunning yes, and somewhat cold, but not pushy and angry. Much more patient, and there is clear devotion in his eyes as this Titus watches his Noctis and Prompto play.

-Cor ends up sparring with this Titus, because Seph isn’t going to turn down the chance to Throw Hands with a cheetah man anymore than Cor will a human.

-It’s a tie that ends with both of them wheezing and tired on the floor.

-Cloud ends up falling asleep at one point and Prompto flops down next to him and soon they are both out and cuddling. All the Pictures are taken.

-Regis and Aulea are bemused and horrified by just how much of an Energizer Bunny Zack is. Like- HOW. Where do you store it all child and they thought Prompto was bad in his puppy stage.

-The three days end and the three disappear as swiftly as they came, and Zack is gleeful to have all the photo evidence Seph thoughtfully took to prove that YES they went to a world with Taur people and LOOK DAD YOU MAKE AN AWESOME LION. SO DOES MOM. SO DO I. AND HAH IGGY IS A GOAT (Ibex, Cloud corrects with a sigh and is ignored by Zack).

Tagging @robininthelabyrinth because I’m pretty sure Nocturne is your fic? Hope you don’t mind this little silly xover. I just loved the story too much to resist.

#SE asks #oliverslewty asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Clouds and Moonlit Skies verse #nocturne #long post

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kunoichi-ume · 4 years

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Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad

Characters: Torian Cadera, Noara Starspark, Balic Cormac and Elara Dorne-Cormac (I have no idea if she will ever take his name, but they are totally married so that’s how I am writing it haha) Story: Jedi Sitters Word Count: 3458

Note: This fic was inspired by this piece of art by @jemichiart, and the name for the little Rishii baby totally taken from @outcastcommander’s suggestion. This also ended up much longer than I expected, but I enjoyed writing this so I am not sorry. EDIT: I am however sorry I forgot to add the tags and link to the picture. Oops.

The sharp tang of blood filled the air as Torian made his way through the Rishi jungle, rifle held ready in case he needed it. He had set off that morning to go hunting but, apparently, he wasn’t the only being on the prowl for a challenge. Whatever had spilled the blood tainting the air had apparently already found it’s prey. He followed the scent, giving in to his curiosity that soon turned into alarm when he identified where the smell of blood came from. Not further into the forest, where wild beasts were known to roam, but into a small clearing he was familiar with. A clearing that housed several huts belonging to a small tribe of locals.

Blood spilled there couldn’t bode well at all.

They were a peaceful sort, the Rishii, despite being natural born predators. Despite their sharp claws and beaks, and ever sharper eyes, Torian ahd always found them to be a kind and welcoming bunch every time he visited their home world. Now that he called the tropical world home as well, Torian had hopes of befriending one or two of them. While he had never heard of a Rishii Mandalorian, the idea of one excited him and he’d welcome any of their number into his hunting party.

Stopped at the edge of the clearing, Torian observed the carnage with a keen eye. Several structures were only partially standing, walls and roofs caved in. Not a single dwelling was left as adequate shelter from the elements. Bodies, all belonging to the feathered locals, laid out across the ground. Claws, far larger than any he had ever seen a Rishii possess, had carved up the bodies the same way they had destroyed the buildings, gouging the ground to leave long, deep grooves in the packed dirt.

Torian sighed heavily, he was no stranger to death but there was always something tragic about the loss of innocent lives. These people were not warriors, not soldiers. They were families, with elderly and young among them. Now he was grateful Noara had not joined him this morning, she was not a hunter but enjoyed exploring the wilds at his side. Death, especially senseless deaths like these, always weighed heavily on her. Where Torian observed the carnage with a sense of sadness at the loss of life she would feel the full weight of grief bearing down on her chest. He loved the former Jedi with all his heart, but her upbringing in the Order still influenced her to behave in ways he didn’t always understand. It kept life interesting.

The sound of something hitting the ground pulled Torian's attention away from the bodies laid out across the clearing. Keeping very still, he strained to hear any other signs of life. Perhaps something in the damaged huts had shifted he wondered. But then a second, clearer sound filled the air. Cracking.

Moving quietly, careful to step around the bodies and blood, Torian entered the clearing and looked for the source of the sound. Nothing was out of place in the first partially standing hut he investigated, nor the second.

At the threshold of the third Torian froze in place, shocked still by what he found as his heart pounded loudly in his ears.

Sprawled out on the dusty floor was a small creature and, though he had never seen one before, it was obvious to Torian it was a newborn Rishii ik'aad. A baby. Something thick and shiny soaked the ik'aad's feathers, pieces of shell caught in the viscous liquid and littering the area almost like shrapnel from an explosion. It looked as though the egg that little thing once resided in had been stashed into the cabinet above where it sat, the door hanging open on a crooked hinge.

It wasn't hard to make the assumption that someone, possibly one of the child's parents, had stashed the egg away in hopes of safety. Luckily the door had held after the damage to the walls had displaced it until the danger had passed. And, equally lucky, was that the ik'aad had been ready to hatch.

Stepping into the destroyed hut, eyes far too large for the small ik'aad's face, lit up in delight when he came into view. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Torian couldn't resist carefully scooping the ik'aad up into his arms. The little thing barely weighed anything at all and his chest tightened at the idea that it was made an orphan the same day it was born. Torian was still a baby when he lost his parents, but at least it hadn’t been the exact same day. A foundling before even getting a name. Brushing some of the shell pieces off soggy feathers, he did his best to check if the child was healthy but truthfully didn't know what he was looking for.

The question of what to do never entered Torian’s mind, there was no debate to be had. Until he could find the ik’aad’s family, if any lived, the foundling was his responsibility. First thing first, he needed to make sure the newborn was healthy. Glancing around the hut, Torian grabbed a large red cloth and shook the dust off before wrapping it around the child. It was a warm day, as was the usual on Rishi, but he didn't want to chance the child catching a chill from it's soaked feathers. Once satisfied that the makeshift birikad would hold the ik'aad securely against his chest, he was quick to leave the destroyed village behind and head back into the forest.

Head turning all around so much Torian was concerned the ik'aad would injure it, the infant cooed excitedly while taking in the world for the first time. It was all Torian could do to keep from laughing, the pure joy of seeing the world with new eyes was infectious. When he reached the rough path he had taken into the jungle, no longer having to duck under branches, Torian switched from a quick pace to a jog. He wanted to get the ik'aad home as soon as possible, not only did the newborn need to be examined by a trained medic but he also had no idea what kind of food to provide. Luckily, when he had left, Noara had said she expected her brother and his wife to come by soon.

Balic Cormac, a giant of a man, wasn't Noara’s sibling by blood, but by choice which meant more to Torian in the long run. He had grown up without his blood around and Noara's had given her away. Better to rely on the family that chose to love you when you needed someone. As luck would have it, Balic's wife Elara was one of the most widely versed medics Torian had ever met. She should be more than capable of giving the little Rishii a proper checkup.

The ik'aad made an odd huffy noise, one that sounded almost put out and made Torian grin widely. "Don't worry ad'ika, you'll get a better look later," he said, smoothing his hand over the ruffled feathers slowly drying on the child's head. He'd make sure the kid got an eyeful before they decided what to do with him.

Walking into the Clan Compound Torian was struck with the still unfamiliar feeling of being home, a warm sense of contentment and belonging that he savored. It wasn't something he had experienced often in his life, having an actual home instead of just a temporary accommodation. When Noara had started talking about wanting to settle down, leaving the saving of the galaxy to others while they moved on with their lives, he hadn't been too particular about where they ended up. As long as he could hunt, house his clan and be with his wife he was happy.

Settling on a tropical world, one with plenty of beaches and ocean to keep Noara happy and thick forests and plentiful fauna for hunting had turned out perfect. Even the base they found was exactly what they needed, large enough to house everyone and any new members the clan might welcome in the years to come and all the animals Noara had taken to rescuing, while being secure enough to defend if they ever needed to.

They even had enough space to put in their own little medical center, which was where Torian headed first. With the Cormac's visiting, it was fairly likely they would either be checking the set up of the new infirmary equipment as Elara had been their main consultant on what they needed, or up in the cliff-side apartment he shared with Noara. Elara was a very driven, serious woman and he would be surprised if she didn’t want to get straight to work. Also the infirmary was closer to where he exited the jungle.

Barely inside the door Torian knew he had made the right choice. The murmur of voices drifted down the corridor toward him and he smiled. He had no idea how Noara would react to him coming home with an ik'aad strapped to his chest and, honestly, he was looking forward to finding out. She found far too much amusement in surprising him with the newest beastie she had decided to take into their home, it was only fair to turn the tables on her.

Several people were gathered inside the infirmary. Balic was leaning against the wall, not far from where his wife worked and even slumped down slightly he was still head and shoulders over everyone else. Several of the younger clan members, all in varying colors of armor, watched the blonde woman with rapt attention as she gave them a rundown of how to use a new scanning device. Noara was lying on the hospital table, obviously playing the lab wamp rat, and doing a good impression of an injured patient until she looked toward the door.

Sneaking up on Noara was almost impossible for Torian, she claimed to be able to feel him with the Force. He believed her, but it was still a hard sell. She claimed it wasn’t the same as how she felt another Force user, but something special because of their connection. She could feel him when he was near, even sense a bit of his moods if she tried.

Of course that didn’t mean he wasn’t determined to try, and someday he was going to manage it.

Instead of pretending to be hurt, Noara smiled brightly when he stepped into view and he could see the moment she noticed the ik'aad. Her eyes widened in surprise and she jolted up off the medical bed, head almost colliding with Elara's who had leaned over during her lecture. Only Balic's large hand yanking his wife backward saved them both from having their bells rung.

"Cyare," Noara said, pushing off the bed and hurrying toward him. "Meg vaar gar ganar?"

Muffled laughter broke out among the younger vod in the room. Noara had been working on learning Mando'a for a few years now, but like now still managed to get some words mixed up much to the younger generation's amusement. Instead of asking what he had, she instead spoke a gibberish phrase about what he had undeveloped. Or half grown, vaar, could mean either.

Cheeks flushing, Noara knew what the laughter meant but instead of reacting further she peered curiously at the ik'aad. "Who is this?"

Torian leaned his head down to brush his lips against her forehead, eyes fixed on the vod still smiling about her slip up. It was of course a message, to remind them she was their alor's riduur. Noara was more Mando than he could have ever imagined a Jedi turning, but part of him still worried about her being accepted by his peers. He knew first hand that it was possible to be Mando and still be treated like an aruetii. He'd be damned if he would let anyone make Noara feel like she wasn't enough.

Turning their head, the ik'aad looked up at Noara with wide yellow eyes. Noara returned the interested stare, reaching out to run her fingers through the matted feathers. "Poor little guy needs a bath," she said, raising her eyes to frown at him. "Are you babysitting or something?"

"Or something," Torian laughed before giving a quick explanation of his day. His story had the attention of everyone in the room and Elara was at his side before he had even finished.

"You should have said it was a newborn sooner," Elara chided him, holding her hands out. "Let me take a look."

Nodding, Torian braced one hand on the ik'aad's bottom before untying the birikad. Once it was loose Elara had the little one in her arms and was making her way back to the exam table.

There was perhaps a split second between her stepping away from him and the loudest shrieking he had ever heard come from a sentient being's lungs. Noara gasped as Torian darted around her, beelining for the table.

"What did you do?" he demanded, leaning over the table to see the small Rishii ik'aad lying on the bed and looking completely fine. Even the squalling had stopped, the moment he leaned over the table. Confused, he looked at the former Havoc Squad medic.

Humming thoughtfully, Elara shifted to block Torian from view. Again the ik'aad started crying loudly. Moving back, the cries stopped the moment golden eyes met Torian's. "Stay right there, where the child can see you."

Noara stepped up beside Torian, pulling a stool over for him to sit on and stayed by his side as Elara examined her new patient. This time the instruction she gave the watching vod was more hands on than the lecture she had given over Noara's 'pretend' ailment. Torian didn't pay much attention to the words she was saying, explaining everything she did, instead he was drawn to the small Rishii's eyes that seemed glued to his face.

Finally Elara set her instruments away, lifting the ik'aad and passing him over for Torian to hold. She delivered her prognosis with a bright smile. "That is one perfectly healthy Rishii baby boy you have there Torian."

"He is such a cutie," Noara said, perched on the edge of the table behind him and leaning over his shoulder to run her fingers through the boy's feathers again. "If his parents are dead, what do we do with him?"

Torian frowned, he hadn't thought that far and now that he was holding the small boy in his arms it just felt... right. Like he was meant to take in this foundling as his own, as his son. They had talked a little about children, though nothing in certain terms and had never discussed adoption. It was as much a part of Mandalorian culture as armor and fighting, they even had a set phrase for it.

How was he going to tell his wife he wanted to make them parents without even discussing it? Watching her smile as the boy gurgled happily at her touch, he had a feeling it wouldn't be too hard to convince her.

Before he could work up an idea of how to start that conversation, Elara cleared her throat to get their attention. "Actually, you should know that Rishii infants are known to imprint on the first person they see."

"Imprint?" Noara asked, frowning in confusion and the words sunk in for Torian. He knew what it meant, but never imagined a sentient species did it. By being the one to find the boy he had all but sealed the question of their future.

"It's a long lasting attachment to the first individual or object a creature sees after hatching. It's common in avian species," Elara explained in her serious manner before smiling. "Based on the child's reaction to being separated I can only assume he has imprinted on Torian."

"So that means..." Noara's voice trailed off as she looked between the boy and her husband. "Are you a dad now?"

Torian pulled his son closer at the hitch in her voice, "I guess, I mean I want to know how you feel about it before deciding anything."

Noara watched him carefully for a long moment before looking up at the crowded room. "Could we have some privacy please?"

"Of course Noara-doll," Balic said before pushing off the wall where he was leaning. He started herding the training medics out of the room before dropping a kiss on the top of Noara's head and leaving with his wife tucked tight against his side. On the way out the door Elara called back that she would arrange for some proper food to be up in their apartment for the boy.

Once they were finally alone Noara shifted closer on the bed to wrap her arms around Torian's shoulders, her chest pressed up against his back. She laid her hands on top of his, helping cradle the child against his chest. When she spoke her voice was steady, though little more than a whisper in his ear. "Are you ready to be a father Torian? I know we've talked a bit about it, but this would be starting now. No time to come to terms with it or get cold feet you know?"

"As sudden as it may feel, I think I am." Torian turned on his stool, dislodging her arms so he could watch her face carefully, "what about you? Are you ready to be a mother?"

"To be honest, no. I don't feel ready at all," Noara said, sighing sadly. "I still don't really know what a mother is? How to do it, you know?"

Holding the child with one hand, Torian cupped her cheek with his other one. "I don't know what being a father is like either but together I have no doubts we will figure it out."

"He'd need a name," she said after a tense moment, leaning her face into his cheek with a smile, "if we can't even manage that what kind of parents would we be?"

Torian laughed, the anxious worry he hadn’t really noticed in his chest relaxing at her smile. "Fair enough. Any ideas?"

“Not sure, never named anyone before.” Noara looked down at the boy tucked against his chest. "His eyes look like little suns don’t they? So bright and full of life."

"What about Tranyc?"

She frowned, "that's Mando'a right? Star... something?"

Torian nodded, impressed that she caught the unfamiliar word. "Star-burned, but that's the literal translation. 'Sunny' is a more true meaning."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I love you Torian," Noara said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders again and kissing him. "And loving this little guy will be no burden I’m sure."

“No I don’t imagine it will be,” Torian said, standing and taking one of Noara’s hands to draw her off the table to stand in front of him. Adjusting his hold on Tranyc, he situated them so Noara was helping hold his son between them. “We should make it official, well as official as Mandalorians ever are.”

“I take it there is a set way to do this?” Noara’s eyes had a teasing gleam in them as she smiled up at him, “so tell me, how do we make Tranyc our son?”

Torian’s heart felt like it could burst, gratitude and admiration for Noara’s easy acceptance of their son almost overwhelming him. He had to clear his throat before being able to speak the adoption vow. “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad.”

“What does that mean?” she didn’t look up as she asked, her eyes fixed on Tranyc’s bright smile.

“I know your name as my child.”

“Very Mandalorian, direct and to the point. I like it.” Noara placed her hand on Tranyc;s head and repeated the vow. Like when they had spoken their marriage vows months before, it took her a few times so get the pronunciation exactly right. When she finished, she gathered their son in her arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek before laughing. “We really need to bathe our son,” she said, “and Elara should have an idea of what to feed him by now.”

Torian wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding Noara out of the infirmary. “Let’s take our son home,” he said, the words making him feel like he could fly. His entire life Torian had wanted a family, one that he could do right by. The way his father hadn’t. The way Noara’s parents hadn’t. They had both grown up without a family but together they had made one all their own. And, other than perhaps the day Noara agreed to marry him, Torian had never been happier than this moment.

Translations

Ik'aad - baby; child under 3 Birikad - baby carrying harness Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad - adoption vow - lit. I know your name as my child.

#swtor #Torian Cadera #Rishii #Jedi Knight/Torian Cadera #Found Families #my weakness #OC: Noara Starspark #Ship: Mando and Jedi #My Writing

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