#I saw the luxury price tag and was like ‘excuse me?’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Hi bestieeee, congratulations on 1K!!! I have a request for you!! Mommy!Nat or Dark!Nat blackmailing R into sex or else R would be fired?? Thank you

I wonder who this request is from?🤔

2.8k words

Warnings: dub-con (bordering on non-con), coercion, blackmail, unhealthy power dynamic, oral sex (giving), praise, strap on sex and cum filled strap on

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You knew Natasha was coming before you saw her; before you even heard the chilling sound of her heels against the polished floors of the 46th level. You knew because you saw it in your coworkers eyes. You saw the way they cowered behind their desks and averted their eyes or made a swift exit from the area entirely. You knew because that was just how it worked at Romanoff Industries.

You were lucky enough to have your own office. Well, that should have made you lucky in avoiding Natasha's piercing gaze but it did not. Most of the time she stalked down the area outside your office she came straight to you and even if it wasn't her destination she would be sure to look in as she went by.

That was one of your less fortunate days, she was coming to see you and it wasn't to deliver a compliment about your hard work. Your boss let herself into your office without knocking and strolled over to your desk, her hips swaying in the mesmerising way they always did in those incredibly tight skirts.

"What happened to that report that was meant to be sent to me hours ago?" She demanded as she stood in front of your desk.

"Apparently someone picked up on some faults of the latest design so we can't do anything right now." You tried to explain but Natasha never did like excuses. "I don't know when it will be fixed." You continued.

"And you didn't think to tell me this?" Natasha glared.

"I thought someone would have told you." You were right, a lot of someone's had told the redhead, but apparently she needed to hear it from you too. "It's not my job to." You couldn't help but add. You knew Natasha hated when people pointed out things she didn't want to hear, more so when they did so confidently. You were one of the few who managed it, maybe that was why Natasha seemed to have it out for you. It was just a compulsion to you, to one up your boss. Even if it rarely succeeded.

You had always had mixed feelings about Natasha. Sometimes you thought when she went home at night she venturer into some cave that led to the pits of hell where she returned to her rightful throne. Other times that tough and stubborn show she put on was nothing short of admirable. There was no doubt it was what got her her success and therefore gave you a job. It was just hard to deal with when it was aimed at you individually, or what you could argue felt like personally.

"Don't give me that." She snapped. You were aware of all the eyes of your coworkers looking in on the pair of you and hanging on every word that was exchanged.

"You know full fucking well if something you're doing is going to be delayed you tell me." She was leaning both hands on your desk and leaning over to get closer to you. With such a short distance between you you had no choice but to stare back into her forest green eyes, like hell you were going to look away and back down.

"You can write that fucking report anyway. I want it on my desk today." Today? There was no way you could get that done in office hours, you would have to be working long past when you were meant to usually go home. "And when the design has been fixed you can write another one on it." She was testing you, willing you to say something you would regret. You weren't going to fall into her trap.

"Okay." You said, holding her gaze.

She didn't say anything else. Natasha stood there for another few seconds to watch you, waiting for something, anything. Then she stood back up straight and headed towards the door that she slammed closed behind her and marched back to her own luxury office.

That could have been an email.

It was approaching midnight when you finished the report. You were about to email it to Natasha when you remembered she wanted it in paper form so you begrudgingly sent it off to the printer.

It was a waste of paper you thought as you trudged over to the elevator that quickly arrived as there was no one else in the building. You figured Natasha just wanted to be that extra bit difficult. Well, you knew that was what she was trying to do.

You had worked with Natasha for longer than most, you knew her. Or rather, you knew the front she painted. You knew what annoyed her, what she wanted, what she thought of certain people and you could predict how she would conduct business down to the exact price tag of a product. But you didn't know her personally, sometimes you wondered if there was anyone who did.

You knocked on your bosses door and waited until she called for you to come in. You planned to simply walk in, put the paper on her desk and walk out to go home but once you were several steps past the door Natasha called for you to close it.

She didn't look up at you as you trudged across the ridiculously big office and put the papers down. It was only when you turned around that she spoke again.

"Stay." Was all said. You bite back a comment about not being a dog.

You turned back around and expected some speech and your attitude earlier but continued making notes on a design plan like you weren't even in the room. A few minutes of you fidgeting on your feet and looking around the office for anything interesting, Natasha picked up your report and leaned back in her chair to read it. She showed no signs that you had done a good or bad job with the report.

Finally, she put the paper down on her desk and went back to the plans. "Close the door behind you." Was all she said. You clenched your jaw and rolled your eyes once turned around to finally leave and go home.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, y/n."

Turns out it wasn't as simple as writing two reports. Design after design failed. First there was a slight issue with the batteries, then the shape, then it somehow became a liability. You mentioned all these faults in your reports, as you legally had to, but it became tedious very quickly. You always hated paperwork. It was meant to be such a small part of your job. You could only hope the sudden increase was temporary, especially as it wasn't exactly one of your strengths.

You continued to work over time and met Natasha late at night, always having to wait until she finished reading till you could leave. You thought you had to be doing at least a good job with them for your boss to never say anything, because she was always ready to point out small errors. That was until one particular night.

"These reports are getting worse." Natasha scolded. The comment made your blood boil. They were certainly not getting worse, maybe the designs were but you knew it was no fault of yours.

"The designs don't work." You fired back and crossed your arms. You had been worked tirelessly on those reports and they only stated the facts.

"Do you even care about your job, y/n?" Natasha asked seriously, angering you more.

"I've sacrificed more than I ever thought I could for a job for this company."

"You're on thin fucking ice, l/n. With the way things are going I'd be in a right mind to fire you." ...what the fuck?!

"What?" It came out as more of a whisper. After everything that you had done for the company and the years you had spent there, Natasha wouldn't really fire you, would she?

"Unless you're willing to make up for it all." She said seriously with something unmistakably dark in her tone.

"I don't more extra hours than anyone here." You said, not knowing what else she could mean.

"Not more than me, something takes quite the toll. I can hardly fit the time in to distress anymore. That's where you come in." Natasha explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered around to the other side of the desk, the sound of her heels clicking echoing around the room.

There was a long moment of silence when Natasha left barely any space between you. You searched her eyes for any hint of what she was referring to but inevitably found nothing. Until she suddenly pushed you down onto your knees in front of her.

"Show me what other skills you have and maybe I'll consider letting you stay." She smirked down at you and ran the back of her hand across your cheek before cupping your jaw. "Entirely your call."

"Natasha this is crazy." You tried to reason but it was hard to ignore the faint throbbing you felt from being on your knees for her. "I could tell someone." For the first time ever, you heard her laugh. She threw her head back in a mocking laugh that soon turned into taunting chuckles.

"Y/n, who would believe you over me? You can be my guest and try but you'll never have another job in this city again, maybe further if I feel like it." She shrugged. You gulped and felt your breathing shake. Fuck.

Natasha, apparently impatient, hiked up her skirt and leant back against her desk to look at you expectantly. Your mouth suddenly went dry when you caught sight of her bare pussy, having not had any underwear on. You wondered if she often sat around like that. If she sauntered around the building and into your office where you could easily let your fingers wander up her skirt. Did she always leave them off for you?

"If you want to keep your job I suggest you get to work." She spoke. You tentatively moved forward and gripped onto her thighs for support, still looking up at her for any signs of a tell.

She was positively soaked. You could see her clenching in anticipation, the sight and musky smell entirely inviting. So you licked a long strip of the redhead's folds and moaned at the sweet taste of her. Sweetness was hardly what you expected given the tough and cold exterior of your boss, you hadn't expected it to be so instantly addictive either.

You pushed your tongue further inside the redhead who gave a breathy moan in response. At that, your mind was made. You sucked harshly on Natasha's clit and felt it pulse rapidly between your lips before returning your tongue to where she needed it most.

"Look at how much you're enjoying this." Natasha smirked as she looked down at the beyond contented glint in your eyes. "So good at pleasing you like mommy."

You worked your tongue tirelessly inside her, spurred on by the blissful sounds that fell from the redhead's mouth with every flick and curl of your muscle. You were lost in the incomparable taste of her and hoped it would be something that lingered on your tongue for a while. You were in awe of the way her mouth hung open in a silent scream as her eyes clenched shut every time your tongue brushed against some beautiful nerve ending. The sounds she made when you did so rivalled the faux sweetness of a siren's song. You knew the dangers of being lulled too far but you wanted to explore it entirely, convinced there was some hidden beauty that no one else could see.

"Fuck, so good." Your grip on Natasha's thigh tightened when her hold on the back of your neck did. She started to buck her hips against your mouth and her breathing patterns became more irregular. Your boss seemed lost in the pleasure she was experiencing from you as her eyes shut firmly and her movements became more erratic. But even then she held onto her power over you.

"I want you to swallow every last fucking drop." She ordered and gasped when your nose bumped against her clit. You picked up the pace of your tongue, making sure to swipe it against all the spots you had learnt made her shudder.

Her nails were practically digging into your neck when she reached her high. Her breath got caught in her throat before she gave the most animalistic moan you had ever heard. She furiously bucked her hips against your face as she rode out her high and relished in every wave of pleasure.

She recovered impressively quickly and was still raring to go, apparently having more plans for the night. She smiled down at you with a glint of the devil in her eye as she stood back and turned around to retrieve something from her desk, telling you to sit on her chair.

You were anticipating Natasha to return the favour, especially given how much she clearly enjoyed what you had to offer. Instead, she slipped a harness through your legs and pulled it up to your waist where she fastened it to sit securely. It was only when she moved away that you saw the size of the red toy, standing proudly and daringly. You wouldn't be surprised if your boss couldn't make it fit, yet again about to see that you really didn't know her. She was unpredictable and nothing short of it.

Natasha straddled your legs until her knees hit the backrest of her chair and her cunt was lined up with the toy. You went to hold her waist to guide her but your boss grabbed your wrists harshly and pinned them to the chair either side of you with a warning look.

She lowered herself onto the toy and groaned when the head of the toy alone started to stretch her. She kept her strong grip on your wrists as she looked more of the strap and you could only watch on in awe as the fake cock disappeared inside her.

Natasha moaned loudly and paused half way to adjust herself and breathe heavily before slamming herself down on the rest of the toy. "God." She grunted. "Mommy feels so full."

"Let me help you mommy." You tried but she shook her head.

"You don't get to touch right now." Was all she said before she lifted herself partly off the toy and slammed back down drawing another beautiful moan.

Your boss continued this for a while until she found herself in a rhythm that pleasured her deeply. You could see her juices smeering the toy everytime she withdrew and the sight alone made you groan, you already wanted to taste her again.

She rode you with vigor as her pace increased as did her grip on you. Profanities spilled from her mouth like a song that you wanted to join in with but you were too fixated on the sight infront of you. Natasha's bra clearly wasn't all that supportive because her breasts bounced with each thrust downwards and you wished more than anything that you could reach out and take her top and bra off to cup them, even tweak her nipples between your fingers to see her squeal.

"Gonna cum- fuck! Mommy's gonna cum on your cock and you're going to fill me up more." She said between moans and gasps. You didn't really understand what she meant by fill her up more but you weren't going to object, not when you wanted to see her cum again so badly.

She suddenly let your right hand go and grabbed on to the back of the harness. You were confused until you felt something click and Natasha was moaning louder than she had all night. "Your cum feels so good in me." She all but screamed before jerking her hips wildly and cumming around the toy.

She fell forwards slightly and grinded against the toy to ride out her high desperately. You gripped her hips with your free hand and moaned when you saw some of the cum leaking out of Natasha's pussy.

With a groan, you pulled your other hand out of the redhead's grasp and lifted her up and down onto her desk where she looked up at you with blissful eyes. "Don't go thinking you have any control." Natasha sneered but gasped when you withdrew the strap and snapped your hips forwards again.

"We'll see."

#natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #dark!marvel #dark!natasha romanoff

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acdeaky · 3 years

Text

out of the blue (3am calls)

warning: mentions of nightmares, implications of PTSD, fluff

note: this is (technically) my other submission for @celestialbarnes’ 4k writing challenge! i chose the prompt ‘bed’ and dialogue 9 ‘“was it the nightmares again?” “no” “you suck at lying”’ congrats again, rachel! and enjoy 🤍

read my other submission here!

word count: 1.9k

“...sorry that i can’t come to the phone right now, but- james?” you picked up, hearing the shaking breaths of bucky’s down the line as he tries to self soothe himself.

“hey,” he sighed down the receiver; you could imagine his metal hand running through his shortened locks, too. “did i wake you?”

“no, no, i’m always awake at...three-fourteen in the morning.” you replied, a teasing tone to your voice as you rubbed your sleep-ridden eyes.

“i just needed to hear your voice,” to ground me, he wanted to say, “i’m sorry, it was selfish.”

“i don’t mind, i wanna talk to you.” you smiled, knowing in a minute or so you’d be leaving the confines of your apartment to walk across the hall to bucky’s.

the other side of the phone stayed quiet for a moment, the only thing being heard was the static of the line. you didn’t want to say anything, knowing bucky usually needed a minute or two to collect this thoughts before he asked you to come over.

his excuse was that he felt like a burden; your response was always the opposite. ever since you had met him, something you always reminded him was that you were there for him, knowing what he had been through. although he was hesitant, the majority of the time you were by his side in the early hours of the morning.

“can you come over? just for a little while?” bucky’s voice was small, quiet, as always when he asked those four words. both of you knew that you’d be there much longer than ‘a little while’, but you didn’t mind when you forever replied,

“of course.”

it wasn’t long before you pulled a hoodie over your head, slipping on some socks before making your way to your front door. you grabbed your keys and opened your door, turning and twisting the lock as quickly as you could.

the hallway seemed darker than usual that night, the chill of the wooden floorboards seeping through your socks and hitting the pads of your feet as you crossed over to bucky’s apartment door. you knocked, waiting for the answer which came only a second or two later.

“i’m sorry.” was the first and only words he spoke as the door swung open.

“it’s okay.” you replied as bucky stood to the side, allowing you to step through the door before he closed it behind you.

the bareness of his apartment always worried you; it felt as if there was little progress happening, but it was. slowly but surely, and bucky knew this, he was just waiting for the right moment to ask you to go shopping with him. help pick out a new sofa, one you found comfortable. maybe even a coffee table, or a dining table so you had a proper place to sit while you ate your various take-outs every week.

it wasn’t like you didn’t see each other enough for him to ask, but he was hesitant; worried you’d say no, that he’d miss judged your friendship, your relationship even, that you were only a source of comfort on nights like this and not a friend who helped make a house a home.

even after that time you’d been with him whilst buying new bed sheets. his mind kept telling him right place, right time, that you didn’t actually want to do that with him, but you’d felt obliged to when running into each other in the store.

he was wrong, of course. your friendship meant the world to the both of you and you adored bucky, but he needed time and so did you. so, your friendship was just that: friends who saw each other the majority of the time, who found any free moment to spend together and who slept next to each other on nights like these...

bucky locked the door behind you before grabbing himself a quick drink, watching your figure as you stepped into the side of the living room and hovered over the blanket and pillow on the floor.

like usual, you said nothing, only following the same route into his bedroom while bucky left his now empty glass in the sink. just as he turned the corner, you were pulling the covers back, pulling off your hoodie and sliding under the sheets.

he watched for a minute, waiting for you to find a comfortable spot with the sheets pulled tightly around your body.

his mattress was cold, still hard, yet comfortable, from when he first bought it. the sheets were soft, too, your choice - of course - colours which you had said complemented his eyes; it was more difficult hiding the blush on his face than you hiding the price tag. he bought them anyway, knowing that you wanted the best for him and hoping that you’d put them to use some time.

and use them you had. there had been many nights since that day which you had spent in his bed, curled up against him as you feel asleep and bucky attempted to. you were the only reason the sheets got washed often; other than you and him on nights like these, nobody else used them.

it wasn’t long before he moved from his place by the door, following your early actions and joining you under the covers. ever the gentleman, bucky stayed on his side while you stayed on yours, him on his back with you on your side facing him.

it took for you to move closer to him, pressing your body into his for either of you to begin feeling any comfort.

the warmth of bucky’s body was a pleasant contrast to the mattress, both of you slowly warming up the longer you were huddled together. truly, you hadn’t meant to lay like this, but after climbing under the sheets next to him for the first time, bucky pulled you into his side and wrapped his arms around you. as if on instinct, your head laid on his bare chest, a hand resting in the middle of his torso as you shifted onto your side.

there were some delicate whispers from the two of you before you drifted to sleep. your kind words soothed bucky’s mind as he allowed himself to relax and settle back into the pillows; a luxury he rarely let himself have. his allowed you to feel them reverberate in his chest, his low hums acting as a settler for your thoughts.

both of you were asleep moments later.

“was it the nightmares again?” you asked the following night, your back against the headboard of your bed, the bright moonlight shining through the thin curtains you’d forgotten to pull across the window earlier.

“no”

“you suck at lying.” a light giggle came from you, followed by bucky’s unpleased sigh. you were right; he knew it and so did you, but you wanted him to admit it.

“i really don’t.” you scoffed lightly at those words, knowing that he didn’t even believe his own words.

“james barnes, how have you not yet learned that you cannot lie to me? i know you.” like always, there was a teasing tone to your voice, trying your best to cheer him up over the phone, especially when you could just tell that the nightmares were bad tonight.

for a moment, the other side of the phone feel silent, except for some light rustling of covers. you knew he was laid on the floor, blanket on top of and under him. regardless of how many times the two of you had tried, bucky could never find comfort inbetween his sheets unless you were there by his side.

“buck? you still there?” you hadn’t meant for your voice to go so quiet, but you really didn’t want to stop talking to him; you never wanted to stop talking to him.

“yeh, yeh i’m still here-” his sentence was almost cut off by three rough knocks at your door, making you body stiffen.

“hold that thought, buck.” you replied, moving slowly off of your bed and towards your slightly open bedroom door.

“doll, its okay,” he spoke softly, noticing the slight quiver to your voice. “its only me”

“could you not have told me that?” you laughed, speeding up to open the door as to not let him stand in the hallway for much longer.

“hey.” he smiled as the door opened, dropping his phone from his ear before ending the call.

“hey.” you mirrored his smile, doing the same while moving to the side to allow him in. as you shut and locked the door, bucky went through his usual routine every time he stepped into your apartment this late at night. his keys were dropped into the bowl on top of the cabinet by your front door, then he grabbed a drink fro your kitchen that was adjacent to your entryway, and then he met you in the doorway of your bedroom, your arms open and waiting for him.

he gladly accepted the contact, always relying on you to ground him when it felt like he’d been floating for too long. and tonight he had been.

both of you used the minimal light from the moon to figure out your way to your bed, his right hand never letting go of yours until he finally had to. the covers were pulled back from where you had left them moments ago, the sheets now cold.

the two of you laid in your bed moment later, bucky being the first to be settled on his back as you began to be pressed against his side, your head on his chest. along with the curtains, earlier you had left a small window open, allowing the noise of brooklyn at night to seep through to your room. neither of you would be falling asleep anytime soon.

“i love you, buck.” your whispered confession making its way to bucky just before he closed his eyes.

“love you, too.” he replied, not allowing the true meaning of his words to be heard.

“no, bucky,” you sat up, leaning your weight onto your right elbow as your left hand reached out for his cheek. “i love you, okay? i love you.”

there was no words for him. he truly hadn’t expected the weight of your confession and it has shocked him beyond words. all he could think to say was,

“i love you, too, doll.” his shy smile made an appearance, reminding you of the first time you saw each other. with that, you leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss onto his lips, the corner of his mouth and on his cheek.

bucky’s smile never faltered, only growing wider the longer you planted kisses upon his skin.

after leaving a lingering one on his jaw, you moved back to face him, resting your forehead onto his. “goodnight, baby.” you whispered, pressing one last kiss on to his lips.

“goodnight, doll.” bucky repeated your actions, leaving the both of you in a fit of smiles.

and, just like earlier, you laid on your side, your head resting above bucky’s heart with his vibranium arm around your shoulders. the two of you were asleep a few moments later, the steady beat of his heart bringing about a peace which you always felt around him.

taglist (for people who i think might enjoy this): @forever-rogue @buvky @buckys-darling @barnessupremacy @wallflowerbarnes @bvckysmoon @gryffindorwriter @lokiscollar @propertyofpoeandbucky @buckys-bug @aerynwrites

bucky taglist: @marvel-rhapsody @bloomingbucky

#celestialbarnes’s 4k writing challenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #tfatws!bucky #tfatws!bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #x reader #acdeaky

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my-soul-sings · 3 years

Text

loves me (not): ch 2

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Marius x Reader

Summary: Marius decides to take his attempts at courtship to the next level. You decide to play off any remotely romantic gestures by Marius as him being his regular self.

And thus begins the most painful courtship in Stellis’ history.

ch 1 | ch 2

A/N: You can read this on AO3 as well; the link is in the replies to this post.

***

“Jiejie, what do you think about this? How about this one? Which do you like more?”

You’ve come to realise that Marius has a bad habit of throwing money at his problems. While he’s certainly not reckless with it, he’s definitely more generous with his spending habits than most people.

Maybe that will explain why he hasn’t gotten the hint that you desperately want to leave this place.

You’re currently in a jewellery store with Marius. He had asked you to meet him here, on the pretext that he was currently assessing some business proposals made by the company owning this jewellery brand, and wanted your opinion on the items since the products are targeted primarily at women your age.

But, you should have known better than to take Marius at his word. As always, he had something up his sleeve, and that hidden trick turned out to be an attempt to figure out what he can get for you as a gift—one that costs a five-figure sum, no less.

It’s not like you dislike any of the jewellery here. In fact, you’re no stranger to this particular brand; you’ve always loved their necklaces. In particular, the saleswoman is currently promoting two of the newest—and most expensive–necklaces available, one of which has really caught your eye. The simple but elegant necklace features a dainty amethyst in the shape of a teardrop, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted to buy it at first.

That is, until you saw the price tag that came with it. The numerical figure did quick work of shattering your dreams of ever owning this necklace—or ever letting Marius purchase it for you, for that matter.

“Marius, I think I’m getting hungry. How about we get something to eat?” In a last-ditch attempt to get him to move, you take his hand, forcefully pulling him away from the saleswoman and from the glass display.

Thankfully, Marius doesn’t make much effort to protest and allows you to drag him out of the store. You feel slightly bad for the saleswoman, but there’s no turning back once Marius threatens to buy out the entire shop—you know from experience that he will absolutely follow through with it.

Once you’re a safe distance away from the store, you release his hand, trying not to think about how smooth his hand is, or what kind of hand moisturiser he uses. It’s probably a ridiculously expensive brand anyway.

“Were you that hungry? I didn’t realise,” he says, a familiar smile on his lips. One look at his face and it’s obvious that he knows that food was just an excuse to flee. Even so, he doesn’t comment on it.

Instead, he takes your hand again despite your protests, and leads you down the street.

“I know a good place around here. I’ll take you there, just hold on to me in case we get separated,” he says, gesturing to the extremely crowded street, which is typical for a Saturday afternoon.

You know you should let go of his hand, but he makes a convincing argument.

Or maybe it’s just a convenient excuse for yourself to go along with him, all while hoping that the place he’s taking you to isn’t going to burn a huge hole in your pocket—or his.

***

You never found out how much the meal cost.

The menu didn’t have prices listed on it, and Marius had insisted on paying, refusing to let you see the bill. You could only make some very general guesses about the price point of the menu based on the luxurious decor of the place, and the very expensive-looking suits and dresses that other patrons had donned. You had stuck out like a sore thumb in your casual weekend outfit. So did Marius actually, but at least he could understand the fancy foreign words in the menu and still fit in with the crowd. In the end, you had to depend on Marius to order for you, which only made you feel worse.

“Marius,” you tell him, unable to hide the weariness in your voice as you leave the restaurant with him, “you shouldn’t keep treating me to such expensive things.”

“Why not?” he asks, looking genuinely surprised. “Did you not like the food?”

“The food was very nice.” It was probably the best meal you’d ever had, and in all likelihood, also a meal you wouldn’t have been able to afford. “But I feel bad. I’m a working adult too. I can pay for my own meals, and you should let me treat you from time to time as well…”

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have offered that with no qualifications as to budget—you still haven’t gotten a concrete answer as to the average price of the food he eats. All you know is that he has a private chef at home, which doesn’t really help with your cost estimates.

“You shouldn’t feel bad. It’s not like I get to take you out for a meal very often since we’re both busy,” he replies with a casual smile. “So when you dragged me out of the jewellery shop earlier, it was because you felt bad too?”

“Yes, but also because I wasn’t interested in any of the necklaces or earrings,” you add, in case he gets any funny ideas about returning to that shop again. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. You’ll just save up for that necklace you wanted on your own. It’s better than being tempted to attach a special meaning to a gift from him too.

“Jiejie,” he begins, eyebrows and lips turning downwards, “do you hate receiving gifts from me?”

There it is: the classic Marius baby pout. Funny how its effect on you is so potent even though he’s used it against you so many times by now.

“It’s not that,” you protest, immediately feeling horrible for turning him down so much today, “it’s just— the thought is enough. I appreciate it.”

You hope that it’s enough to appease him, but it doesn’t work. His head is still drooping like a dead flower.

“But the other guys in the NXX have given you presents before,” he protests, “Artem treats you to coffee almost every day, Vyn gave you flowers and tea at our previous meeting, and you never complain when Luke buys drinks and snacks for you.”

“That’s different!”

“How is it different? Jiejie, aren’t you being biased? This is so unfair.”

“It’s different because they let me buy things for them too, and their gifts aren’t very expensive.” Actually, on second thought, you should probably check out how much the tea and the flowers were. Vyn can go a little overboard sometimes too.

Marius pauses to think about it for a moment. “So… you just don’t like expensive gifts?”

You want to tell him that it’s not quite that; that it’s because you don’t want your mind to go places, wondering whether his gifts have some sort of special meaning to them, and because you don’t want him to think that you’re friends with him for the perks of it. He’s already had to live most of his life second-guessing the intentions of the people around him; the last thing you want is for him to feel guarded around you too.

“I guess you could put it that way.” You eventually settle for this simple response, not wanting to delve into an unnecessarily long-winded explanation.

“Hmm… Okay.” He looks like he’s made up his mind about something, but you don’t know what, exactly. An uneasy feeling stirs in your gut. Marius isn’t the type to give up just like this, which is why you can’t help but doubt whether he truly understood what you meant.

But then he proceeds to promise that he won’t buy you such expensive gifts anymore—which probably means that he understood, right?

The cunning smirk playing on his lips makes you suspect there’s more to his compliant response than meets the eye.

***

A week later, you open your door to find a delivery man handing you a package that you don’t recall expecting. It’s a rectangular board wrapped in brown parchment paper, and you’re not sure what it could be; you haven’t ordered anything online lately.

Curiously, you untie the pink ribbon and unwrap the parcel, revealing an oil painting of a girl that bears a striking resemblance to you.

The corners of your lips turn up. There’s only one person in the world who would give you something like that.

As you run your fingers along the canvas, tracing the lines and curves of your drawn face, you realise that a beautiful necklace has been added to your portrait, one that you don’t remember owning or ever wearing.

It doesn’t take long for you to realise that it’s the exact same necklace you had been eyeing at the store the other day when you were with Marius.

Just then, your phone rings, and you immediately answer after spotting the caller ID.

“So? Did you get it?” he asks, and you can’t help but laugh at how excited he sounds.

“Get what?”

“My present. I had it delivered today.”

“A present? I don’t know… but I just received a painting and I was just about to call the police to report a stalker who drew a portrait of me and sent it to my home.”

“I wonder who had the guts to cross one of Stellis’ most competent attorneys,” Marius feigns a shocked voice, making you chuckle. “Are you going to keep it though?”

“Well… I’m not sure…”

“If it’s a painting of you, then it was probably handmade. I doubt the stalker spent any money on this. He may be a stalker, but he sounds like a man of his word.”

“An honourable stalker,” you remark. “It looks like you two know each other. Hmm... I guess I’ll keep this.”

“Really? You will?”

“Yes. Help me relay my thanks to the stalker. The painting is beautiful.”

“Will do. Frame it up somewhere nice, okay? I’ll come by and take a look at this stalker’s amazing work for myself.”

Narcissist. You want to say more, but Marius hangs up soon after Vincent’s voice is heard in the background urging him to attend his conference call. Apparently, he’s already five minutes late.

With the silence in your empty apartment settling back in, you glance back at the painting and wonder where you should hang it up exactly. It feels weird to hang up a portrait of yourself in your own home though, so in the end you decide to leave it in your closet, along with the many questions in your head about why Marius would do this just for you.

The first answer you think of leaves butterflies in your stomach.

But then, you force yourself to consider the many other equally possible answers for this.

Maybe Marius just wanted an excuse to draw something, and that subject happened to be you. Maybe he felt bad that he wasn’t allowed to buy you a necklace but still wanted to do something because he’s kind like that.

Maybe it was just a gift for a friend and nothing more.

...Yeah. That’s probably the safer conclusion to make.

Having made your decision, you shut the doors of your closet.

***

A/N: good luck marius im pressing F now

#tears of themis #marius von hagen #marius fanfiction #tears of themis marius #tears of themis fanfiction #tears of themis fanfic #marius fanfic #my writing #loves me (not)

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drkineildwicks · 3 years

Text

Okay, let me get salty about the BH6 manga for a minute:

Actually let me get salty about the manga for a minute and then Disney’s marketing practices for a lot longer apparently I have OPINIONS

Salt under the cut, long post that talks about marketing and such and why streaming sucks in general and Disney sucks in particular:

At this point I think we all can agree that the BH6: the Series manga is in fact a retelling of the first handful of episodes as opposed to a brand new adventure like it was billed

Granted when I saw it on Amazon I suspected BUT

The BH6 manga for the movie came out in the years immediately following the movie

The BH6 TV show ended earlier this year (February? March? Don’t even remember now just know it ended on a low note)

Okay February just looked it up

The BH6 TV show first started airing in 2017

The tie-in manga didn’t see print until August of 2021, several months after the series ended

Now this is where I swing a truckload of salt at Disney and tell them that if they had any sense they’d can their whole marketing department

Granted their marketing has always sucked outside of a few IPs they milk until they’re dry (Frozen cough cough) but bear with me

Would it not have made sense to have this tie-in manga release while the first season was airing to give incentive to look into it???

One of the ‘excuses’ they gave for canning the show was that the numbers weren’t there

Would it not make sense to, oh I don’t know, market it and get some interest???

Outside of a handful of promos on Disney XD I saw no ads for this show

I didn’t even realize it existed until 2019, when I was flipping through channels and saw the label and went hold up

Now according to my Marketing classes word-of-mouth is the strongest advertising there is but until I found it myself and started looking there was??? Nothing???

I could blame part of this on social media because of things like tagging where what you talk about doesn’t really stray from its own collective fandom and that is a shame

And discussing it with Mom and she pointed out that marketing is the most expensive part of the product

An example she gave me was Playtex, which has a price tag of several million dollars to market a product that costs three cents to make

But saying that—Playtex provides a product that falls under a necessity umbrella; if you don’t buy certain products from them you’ll buy it from someone else because these are things that you need

Entertainment, at the end of the day, is a luxury—meaning you don’t need it. If the choice is between paying for Disney+ streaming services or eating for the month, I guarantee that 100% of the population will pick eating because that’s the necessity

And anything you don’t need is something you can eventually walk away from unless they convince you to stay

Now let’s go back to Disney, this company creating an unneeded luxury, and in doing so makes BILLIONS of dollars

I think Pokémon and Hello Kitty are the only ones that gross higher, honestly

(on this topic, Pokémon’s marketing sucks too because they’ve made themselves into such an unstoppable juggernaut that they can’t afford to delay games, which ends up backfiring and hurting them badly)

You would think that they could spare some money to market their shows—to give the bare minimum to attract customers

And they used to! I can remember new movies and shows dropping and you could find product for them—clothes and books and such, ads in front of movies in theaters and on the TV

Somewhere in the late 00s early 10s this shifted—one of my classes at Full Sail pins this on the internet and streaming

The logic here is that the mentality shifted from wait the whole season for the numbers to come in, which also ensures that there’s time for people to learn about the show, to instant gratification we can see immediately if we have a hit

To emphasize the issue, the class pointed out that Seinfeld, arguably one of the more successful sitcoms of its time, wouldn’t have completed its first season under today’s marketing approach

Disney, however, goes deeper than just we’re not making millions immediately on this boo

Disney has, in the past, purposefully sabotaged its own shows

Atlantis and Treasure Planet, two gorgeous 2D movies, were released opposite movies such as Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings

These were the movie releases of the CENTURY there was no way to compete with them and other studios didn’t try they’d change release dates to avoid competing with them

Disney was convinced that 2D animation was dying and to justify canning the 2D studios they made sure there was no way for the movies to make the money back

And these were movies that were going to have tie-in shows and sequels!

2D animated movies briefly saw a comeback at Disney with Princess and the Frog and Winnie the Pooh—which they released opposite the last Harry Potter movies

Again, self-sabotaging

Anyone following the Gravity Falls tag will have heard of how Alex Hirsch said they had a whole book featuring all sorts of cool stuff about the show ready and prepped to release, all they needed was Disney’s go-ahead

Disney goes no, turns around and releases a book that’s just screenshots of the show, one of which still has a Quicktime pause bar in it

It’s the equivalent of waiting until the last day of the assignment and then throwing together a collage you got from a Bing search, and in order to get the grade you took the assignment of the kid who did all the work throughout the two weeks given and throw that in the garbage

Disney. Literally. Cannot. Be bothered. To care.

Because they think they’re too big to fail.

But the thing is, the cracks are already showing in their foundations—people are learning to be more critical of their media, and ironically the internet, which started this instant gratification mindset, is doing so

Someone with degrees in film and art (hello there) can look at something, pick it apart, and go that’s not right what they’re doing, and then have an audience they can inform

Anyone who’s taken even one class in Marketing can tell you their business practices are shoddy

Disney’s hitching their wagons to falling stars and hoping they can trick the viewers into buying their product but???

Disney+ is a leasing service—you own nothing you watch

And while it was different with cable, where if you didn’t care for one channel there were 500 more, now with streaming it’s so compartmentalized that you can’t really afford to pay for them all—meaning some are going to fall by the wayside

And with Disney’s marketing strategies as of late, I don’t doubt they’re about to see a big dip in numbers

#disney #disney salt #send big salt shipments to Disney they deserve to drown in that mineral #this originally was me wondering why tf they released the BH6ts manga after the show ended and kind of snowballed #why yes I'm still salty months after the fact whatever gave you the impression I'd be otherwise?#one of these days I will move on from being deeply disappointed and affected by disney's garbage practices but today is not that day

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bellafarallones2 · 3 years

Text

So I wrote more Vincent/Apollo - this is roughly a sequel to ThisWasInevitable's excellent fic but all you need to know is that Vincent and Apollo met on The Bachelor. I would categorize this as PWP.

The sky was blue, the air was crisp, and Apollo was almost shivering in one of Vincent’s sweatshirts: autumn hit hard in Vincent’s hometown in the suburbs of Minneapolis, especially compared to Georgia. (Apollo had joked it wouldn’t be the peach state anymore without him, and Vincent had laughed and patted his butt and said that it was true.) That was why, in mid September, they took the Subaru to L.L. Bean to get Apollo some cold-weather clothes.

The handles on the front door of the store were shaped like canoe handles, and Vincent held the door for Apollo and then followed him in. “Where do you want to start?” said Vincent. “Sweaters or a real winter coat?”

“Sweaters,” said Apollo, already leading them past the camping equipment and brightly-colored kayaks into the men’s clothing department. Looking at the price-tag on a button down patterned with tiny blue sailboats made him feel light-headed. Sixty dollars for a shirt? “Holy shit that’s expensive.”

Vincent laughed. “It’s because they’re made to last.”

Apollo looked over at him, and put out his hand for Vincent to squeeze. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Picking out flannel shirts was a far cry from Apollo’s original designer dreams, but he loved how Vincent looked at him as he came out of the dressing room, how he ran his hands appreciatively over Apollo’s shoulders and commented on the softness of the fabric. Apollo didn’t think he’d ever worn a cable knit sweater before in his entire life (maybe in a family Christmas photo when he was eight?), but he found one he liked in a lovely jewel blue. It sort of made him look like Vincent. Even better, it made him look like Vincent’s.

When Vincent’s arms were full of flannels and quarter-zip sweatshirts, they moved on to the winter coats. The label on the coat Vincent suggested promised to keep the wearer warm at temperatures down to -45°, which didn’t even sound like a real temperature. Apollo figured the next time he visited the surface of Mars he’d be all set.

When they were done Vincent whipped out his credit card (and green L.L. Bean rewards card) to pay for everything, and Apollo carried all the bags back to the car like the strapping young thing he was.

“Thank you,” Apollo murmured once they were back in the car, and kissed Vincent deeply across the console. “You always take such good care of me.”

“I can’t have my handsome husband being cold,” Vincent teased. “Besides, you’re good at showing your appreciation.”

When Vincent talked like that, Apollo really wanted to. As a teenager his father had given him and Indrid a clothing allowance, and then when he turned 18 and moved out he’d bought his own clothes, thrifted designer or Forever 21. Having someone help him pick out clothes and pay for them was strange.

At home, Vincent carried his new sweaters upstairs and cut the tags off and hung them up in a neat row in the closet. Coming downstairs again, he found Vincent on the couch reading a magazine, but he put it aside and spread his thighs obligingly as Apollo sank to the floor at his feet. Apollo always liked the way Vincent looked down at him, making him feel small and safe and beloved, like the spoiled pet that he was. “Will you let me suck you off?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Vincent cupped Apollo’s cheek and ran his fingers up through his hair. “But why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable?”

Apollo nodded, and Vincent helped him up and led him by the hand into the bedroom. Kissing him, Apollo undid Vincent’s belt and his pants and pushed down his underwear, and then the front of his shirt was concealing his genitals (can’t have that) so Apollo unbuttoned the shirt and took Vincent’s cock in his hand and stroked it gently.

“Come here, sweet thing,” said Vincent, guiding Apollo up between his legs as he lay back on the bed.

Vincent preferred to do this in bed. He wanted Apollo to be comfortable, not kneeling on the hard floor. Apollo didn’t much care where they did it. He stroked his hands down Vincent’s thighs and took his still-soft cock into his mouth, heard Vincent sigh. He played with Vincent’s balls and stroked the tip of his tongue down the underside of Vincent’s cock and felt him get hard.

He felt safe, with his head between Vincent’s warm thighs. He liked the way Vincent smelled, too. Familiar.

Before Vincent he didn’t do this with anyone often enough for their smell to be familiar, certainly not often enough for their smell to feel like home. And before he’d always tried to show off, make his partner cum as fast as possible, but now he had the luxury to linger.

Vincent was stroking his hair. “You’re allowed to touch yourself, you know. I want my good boy to enjoy himself.”

Apollo pulled off just enough to speak. “I want you to make me cum.”

“Of course, darling.”

Eventually Vincent’s hands tugged more insistently in Apollo’s hair, and Apollo swallowed around him and felt him cum, warm in his mouth, warm like a sixty dollar sweater that’d last him years.

He caught his breath resting his cheek against Vincent’s thigh, and then Vincent pulled him up to sit in his lap and kiss him some more. “How do you want to cum?” Vincent said.

“Mmm,” Apollo murmured. “Want your fingers.” He hadn’t even noticed how hard he was. Vincent made it easy to stop focusing so much on himself.

“Of course.” Keeping one hand on Apollo’s shoulder, Vincent reached over to the drawer on the bedside table for lube and gloves. Apollo shifted, clinging to Vincent’s neck, and one gloved finger teased his hole. “Good?”

“Yes please,” said Apollo, and Vincent slipped one finger inside him. He went slower than Apollo would jerking off: Apollo didn’t mind a little burn but Vincent was always so gentle, waiting until Apollo was whimpering for a second finger. He massaged his prostate and jerked him off and Apollo was drowning in pleasure, it felt like Vincent was everywhere. So close, inside him, surrounding him, cooing praise into his ear - what a good boy you are, you take me so well.

“Daddy,” Apollo gasped, and felt Vincent smile against his cheek.

The daddy thing was their little secret. He’d called Vincent it a few times when they were on television together, but it had always been jokingly. When it had come out in a breathy moan afterwards, after Apollo had sworn off doing things for the cameras, he couldn’t claim any such excuse. Luckily Vincent’s cock had jumped when he said it. He wanted - he wanted to be taken care of, alright? Was that too much to ask? He was gorgeous and brilliant; he deserved it. And it wasn’t an all-the-time thing, just when he was feeling particularly submissive, particularly needy, sitting with his legs spread in Vincent’s lap with his eyes screwed shut.

“Let daddy take care of you,” Vincent murmured, and Apollo came hard, his whole body tensing.

Vincent cleaned him up and kissed him, and Apollo let himself drift, until Vincent was solid against his back and Apollo could curl up against him like taking shelter from the wind in the lee of a hill. “Thank you for the clothes,” Apollo murmured, and was asleep before he heard Vincent’s response.

Vincent never thought he would have this. He was old enough when he met Apollo that he’d given up on finding love. He’d gone on the Bachelor mostly on a whim and knowing it would make for a good story if nothing else; he knew perfectly well television romances rarely worked out long-term. But it had been months, now, and he was still waking up with Apollo beside him. Apollo, who was young and clever and good-looking as Vincent was middle-aged and boring.

“You’re not boring,” Apollo had said once. “You’re stable. I like that. I know you won’t suddenly change your expectations for me. You make me feel safe.”

And by God did Vincent like making Apollo feel safe. He liked being the only person who saw the softness Apollo hid from the rest of the world.

(He’d never felt possessive about a partner before he met Apollo, but now he felt like if Apollo slept with someone else he might die. Or commit murder. One of the two. It would be infinitely worse than Apollo just leaving him.)

So tonight, when Apollo slid into his lap after dinner, the first thing he said was “I love you.”

Apollo looked surprised. “I love you, too.”

“I know.” Vincent grabbed his face and kissed him hard, felt Apollo roll his hips.

For a few moments they just breathed, holding each other. Finally Apollo spoke. “Can we do tonight?”

Vincent stroked his hip thoughtfully. He was referring to a scene they’d been planning for weeks. “Yes.”

His arm looped around Apollo’s torso was a restraint, now, and he brushed a piece of fluff off Apollo’s shorts. Apollo’s inner thighs were always maddeningly sensitive, and even that light touch was enough to make him squirm. Now Vincent rested his hand more deliberately on Apollo’s leg, pressing down slightly, fingers edging close to the seam of his shorts.

“Do you like it when I touch you inappropriately, Apollo?” Vincent’s authority voice also never failed to get Apollo going.

“Yes,” said Apollo, voice barely a squeak.

“Do you want me to do bad things to you?”

Apollo didn’t immediately respond, and Vincent took the opportunity to palm him through his shorts. So sensitive, he was, so vulnerable underneath Vincent’s searching fingers. “Y-yes.”

“Hm. What if I told you I wanted to tie you up? Would you let me do that?”

“Yes, yes sir, I’d let you, let you do anything you wanted to me.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” said Vincent approvingly. “Now, up. Come with me.”

He led Apollo to the bedroom and spread him out on the bed. “You do too much of your thinking with this, sweetheart,” Vincent murmured, groping Apollo’s dick through his pajamas. “But that’s okay, we can fix that. Stay right here.” One last affectionate squeeze and Vincent was gone, digging through the toy box under the bed. He came up with a cock cage, clear plastic. Apollo was half-hard from anticipation and Vincent touching him, so the ring didn’t fit. He looked up at Vincent, as though hoping that Vincent might let him get off one last time as he pulled Apollo’s pajama pants down around his knees.

Vincent tutted. “You young men, so excitable.” He wrapped his hand around the glass of ice water dripping condensation on the bedside table, and Apollo realized what he was going to do an instant before he did it and tried to squirm away, but Vincent’s grip on him was too strong, and Apollo shrieked as Vincent’s cold hand touched his dick. “There we go,” said Vincent, and locked the cage closed.

Apollo squeezed his eyes shut. This was because of him, because weeks ago he’d said I want you to take advantage of me and they’d talked about it and Vincent had ordered different cock cages off the internet to test which kind was the most comfortable for long-term wear.

And now here they were. Apollo opened his eyes. “How - how dare you!” he sputtered, pulling on the cage just enough to make his balls ache, enough to establish that it wasn’t coming off without the key that had just disappeared on a string beneath Vincent’s shirt. “You old fucking perv, you, you-”

“I’d be polite if I were you, seeing as that’s the only way you’re going to get to cum.”

“It’ll, it’ll make my dick shrink!”

“Are you telling me that you, Apollo Cold, the brilliant and beautiful, depend on your dick size for self-esteem?”

Apollo mumbled something unintelligible, mollified despite himself by the praise.

Vincent pulled him into his lap and kissed him deeply, tugged his hands away from fiddling with the cage. “You’ve been acting so recklessly, going around asking older men to do dirty things to you. Maybe this will help you control yourself.” Apollo’s legs fell apart easily as Vincent teased his nipples, moaning in frustration as his dick tried to get hard but couldn’t. “See, this is good,” said Vincent. “You’ve always been embarrassed about shooting off too fast and now I can fuck you for as long as I want.”

“When do I get to cum?”

“When you ask nicely and I feel like unlocking you. Supervised, of course.”

“Can I please cum?”

“Not tonight. It’s time for bed.”

Apollo groaned in frustration.

“I’m an old man, I need sleep.” Vincent opened his arms, and Apollo surrendered. If he fought he wouldn’t get to be held.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, and he groaned again when his phone went off the next day at 5:45 in the morning. Fuck. He’d forgotten he had an opening shift. He shut the alarm off so as not to disturb Vincent, still asleep, and kissed him on the cheek.

Apollo worked at Starbucks. He was good at it, he made good use of the employee discount, and swearing off Instagram had cut him off from a major source of income as a former reality star.

While he was pulling his pants on he remembered they were out of Pop Tarts and his heart sank, but when he went downstairs and opened the cabinet to scavenge for breakfast, he found a brand-new unopened box. The brown sugar cinnamon kind, his favorite. His heart panged. Even though Vincent only ever had oatmeal for breakfast like an old man, he’d noticed the Pop Tarts were gone and bought more.

At work Apollo folded his black apron up before he tied it, tight to make his waist look narrow. Luckily the apron meant nobody could see the bulge he felt in his crotch.

He got home from work before Vincent did, dying of horniness. A customer had given him their number, which always annoyed him, but less so than usual with the reminder around his cock of who he belonged to. Of Vincent.

Apollo kicked off his clothes and lay sprawled facedown on Vincent’s king-sized bed. Maybe he was imagining it, but with his dick caged every sensation was more vivid. The quilt against his bare skin, rubbing up on his nipples and the sensitive skin of his thighs. His hair curled against his neck. The sound of his breathing against the pillow.

Apollo ground his hips against the mattress, and reached down between his legs to grope the cage, but it didn’t do anything. Vincent hadn’t told him he couldn’t use toys, though, so he grabbed lube and his favorite dildo, the one that vibrated and hit his prostate just right, but when he pressed the ‘on’ button, nothing happened.

Apollo flipped open the battery casing at the bottom. Empty. That cruel bastard. Vincent always thought of everything; of course he’d think to take the batteries out. Apollo lubed it up and eased it inside him anyway. Fuck, that was good. His hips rocked of their own accord, fucking himself on the plastic. His cock tried hopelessly to twitch.

Actually, he remembered now. Last week the batteries in the TV remote had died when Vincent was at work and Apollo had disemboweled the vibrator to replace them rather than trying to find new ones. He could go looking now, if he wanted; they were probably in some neatly-labeled box in a closet somewhere, but that would require standing up.

The tip of the dildo found his prostate and made him sob. He fucked it in and out until a pathetic dribble of fluid leaked out of his caged cock.

He’d shaved his pubes the day before yesterday so the hair wouldn’t get caught in the cage, and it had felt weird, but the way Vincent pinned him to the bed as soon as he’d come out of the shower more than made up for it. You look good, all smooth like this, Vincent had said. Makes me want to lick every inch of you. He’d come hard that night, with Vincent’s clever tongue tracing up his taint.

Lost in the fantasy, Apollo looked up vaguely when the bedroom door creaked open. Vincent was standing there in his work clothes, suit and tie and green-and-gold argyle socks. “Fuck,” he breathed.

“Am I in trouble?” said Apollo.

“Of course not, baby,” said Vincent. He shut the door behind him and moved to the end of the bed. “May I join you?”

“Please.”

Vincent kissed him so hard he almost forgot about the toy inside him, hips twitching as his fingers fumbled with the buttons on Vincent’s shirt. “Please,” said Apollo again. “Please fuck me. Want you. Also where do you keep batteries?”

“On the third shelf of the linen closet. What’s this about?”

“Nothing,” said Apollo, pulling the toy out of him and leaning around Vincent to throw out the condom that had been on it. He undid the buckle on Vincent’s belt and then yanked down his pants and boxers just enough to wrap his hand around Vincent’s dick. “This is the only D I care about right now.”

Vincent laughed as he got his pants the rest of the way off and crawled onto the bed, between Apollo’s spread legs. The cage was so small he could wrap his hand easily around the whole thing. “You’re so hot like this, all locked away safe.” He pressed a kiss to the skin just above the cage. “This belongs to me.” He grabbed Apollo’s ass, lifting his hips up and pulling to expose his hole. “This too. All mine.”

“All yours,” Apollo agreed. “Now fuck me or I’ll go find someone who will.”

The thought of Apollo fucking someone else, which they both knew he’d never do, was one of the only things that got Vincent to really lose control. He sucked a hickey into Apollo’s neck, and then Apollo was too busy getting fucked to think about the cage, about the way his cock was dripping, riding the high of just-before-orgasm that didn’t end, just a pleasant heat low in his stomach. There was no point in touching himself, so he touched Vincent, kissing him and running his fingers through his neatly-combed hair.

Vincent came inside him, and Apollo kept squirming even after he pulled out, from the cum dripping out of him. It always felt strange, his hole stretched open. He just managed to gasp out “unlock me?” in between kisses, and Vincent produced the key from somewhere and there was a little click and Apollo’s cock was free again, heavy and hard.

“You need a shower,” said Vincent. “We both do.”

“Alright,” said Apollo, and allowed Vincent to help him to his feet.

The shower in the ensuite bathroom was easily big enough for both of them, with water pressure that always felt like a massage and a very versatile detachable showerhead. When Apollo moved in Vincent had put up extra shelves in the shower for all his products.

Apollo reached down to touch himself, but Vincent gently took his wrists and guided his hands away. “Hands on me, baby, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

He did. He always did. Apollo clung to him as he carefully rinsed the cum out of Apollo’s hole and cleaned his ass and thighs with a soft wash cloth, gentle enough to feel like foreplay on his dick and balls.

Apollo watched as Vincent washed himself as well, Vincent’s eyes closed against the soapy water and his dark eyelashes curled up on his cheeks. Wrapped up in a fluffy towel it only took a gentle push to get Apollo sprawled on the bed again, Vincent lying between his legs, still touching his dick. Checking to make sure the cage hadn’t chafed or pinched, Apollo realized. He lost himself in the feeling of his cock soft and vulnerable under Vincent’s hands, only looking up when he heard Vincent picking up the cage again.

“Aren’t you going to let me cum?” Apollo asked, hating how plaintive his voice sounded.

“You didn’t ask for that,” said Vincent. “I can if you want me to. But if you wait until tomorrow I’ll give you a special reward.”

“What kind of a reward?”

“Any kind of reward you like, baby boy.” Vincent rubbed his thumbs gently against Apollo’s inner thighs.

Apollo sighed. He couldn’t believe Vincent was seriously doing the marshmallow test in bed with him. But he was still going to take it. Vincent’s rewards could be amazing. Vincent sucking him off with a plug in him had given him probably the strongest orgasms of his life. But there was something else… “Will you let me fuck you?”

Vincent’s eyebrows went up in surprise. They’d never done that before. They’d made each other cum lots of ways, and Apollo had fingered him a few times, but every time they’d actually fucked Apollo had bottomed. The few times they’d tried to do differently Apollo had gotten impatient watching Vincent open himself up and Vincent had laughed and indulged him. “Of course, if that’s what you’d like.”

“Then I want that. ”

The cage closed, and the lock went click. Vincent moved upwards to kiss him. “I look forward to it.”

The next day Apollo wasn’t working, so he cooked dinner and cleaned the house. It probably would have been more fun if he’d had a French maid outfit to really set the mood - maybe he should talk to Vincent about that. In any case, Vincent was very complimentary when he got home, and after dinner cuddled him without teasing until Apollo asked if they could please get on with the fucking.

Unlocked at last, Apollo lounged naked on the bed, watching Vincent undress, returning his jacket to its hanger and putting his underclothes in the hamper. “How do you want me?” said Vincent, turning back to the bed.

“...Can I hold you while you open yourself up?”

“Yes.”

Apollo scooted up to lean against the pillows, and Vincent sat between his legs. He wrapped his arms around Vincent’s chest and tried to resist the urge to hump his back. He wasn’t going to let himself cum until he was actually inside him. He couldn’t see what Vincent was doing, just hear the soft wet noises of him fingering himself.

“Tell me about your day,” said Vincent after a few moments of (to Apollo) awkward silence.

“My day?”

“I like hearing your voice. And it’ll distract you from anticipation.”

“Alright. I… went to the grocery store for stuff for dinner. I sent you that picture I saw on Twitter of someone’s pet turtle trying to go down the stairs.”

“It was a good thing to see, coming out of a budget meeting.”

Apollo kissed his neck for awhile, and finally Vincent lifted his head. “I think I’m ready.”

Apollo startled. He’d almost forgotten what they were actually doing. He crawled around to look. Vincent’s hole was pink and wet and open around his thick fingers. “Can I touch?” said Apollo, fascinated. In answer Vincent just spread his legs. Apollo teased the rim of his hole with one finger, watched it twitch, felt it swallow his finger up when he pressed it inside.

Vincent laughed. “Pass inspection?”

Apollo turned his head up to kiss him. “So I just… stick it in?”

“Any way you like.”

In the past they’d fucked mostly missionary, since Apollo liked to be kissed, so he figured he might as well try that. Sometimes Vincent had him bounce in his lap, but Vincent was big, probably seventy-five pounds heavier than Apollo was, so that wasn’t going to work. Apollo got lube on his hand, stroked himself to full hardness, and pressed in. But the angle was awkward, he couldn’t sink as deep as he liked to, even as Vincent groaned in pleasure. And thrusting was… his hips weren’t used to that motion, his quads weren’t used to the stretch.

Was this what it was like for Vincent? Was the length that felt so satisfying not even Vincent’s full cock? He could see the cock in question lying there hard against Vincent’s stomach, and it seemed a damn shame not to be using it for anything.

“Can we switch positions?” Apollo said.

“Sure,” said Vincent. “Want me on all fours? I believe that’s traditional.”

“Yes please.” How was it that Vincent managed to be so in charge even on the bottom, guiding Apollo along? And how was it that Apollo bent so easily to his suggestions?

Vincent hauled himself up, supporting himself on his hands and knees. Apollo knelt behind him, kneading his ass for a moment. Vincent’s back was scattered with pale freckles. It was easier to sink in deeper in this position, and fuck, Vincent felt good, hot and wet and tight, groaning Apollo underneath him.

The actual fucking was still awkward. He had strong fucking kegels, could squeeze a dick like nobody’s business, but topping was different. He wasn’t sure he was good at it. And they weren’t touching enough, so Apollo rested his cheek on Vincent’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Vincent’s chest from behind, reaching around to jerk him off.

“Thank you,” Vincent gasped, and Apollo realized he was dripping precum onto the sheets. As for Apollo, well. He was young, he hadn’t cum in two days, and also it was Vincent underneath him, the smell of Vincent’s stupid drug-store shampoo and the sound of his breathless praise.

He came hard, and clung tightly to Vincent’s back until he came as well. Then they collapsed together, Vincent rolling them over to avoid the wet spot on the sheets.

“I hadn’t expected fucking someone to be so much work,” Apollo remarked, before resigning himself to getting up to change the sheets. He knew once he started cuddling Vincent he wouldn’t want to get out of bed again.

“Mm. Now you appreciate everything I do for you.”

Apollo paused to kiss him. “I always appreciate you.”

Sure enough, he fell asleep that night curled up against Vincent’s chest, and woke up with morning wood reminding him that Vincent hadn’t locked him back up afterwards. Vincent was already awake, looking up at the ceiling, thinking about whatever it was Vincent thought about. At this angle Apollo could see the wet convex of his eyes.

“You didn’t put the cage back on,” said Apollo.

Vincent turned to him. “No, I didn’t.” He tilted his head just enough for a kiss. “My mistake. I didn’t think you’d be so desperate for it, but I’ll put it back on if you want me to.” His hand slipped easily under the waistband of Apollo’s pajama pants. “I never can say no to you.”

#pwp #vinlo #apparently that's what this ship's name is

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rocklady1973 · 3 years

Text

Someone on Instagram posted a photo that became the inspiration for me to make this story. This is all I have at the moment but I do have an adventure for him that I still have to put on paper. Hope you like it...

A sunny afternoon in L.A....

Yoshiki poured himself a well earned glass of wine. He felt quite content with himself, for finishing his solo music project.

As a gift to himself for all his hard work, he allowed himself to buy something big and expensive.

So, later that day, our petrol head went to the new Hollywood Cars Garage to see if there's something he'd like.

While entering the luxurious showroom, his eyes were immediately drawn to a very familiar car...

That's the car of the trilogy of films that he enjoyed so much!

Could it be the actual car that they used in the films? It does have all the extra equipment!

Suddenly, one of the salesmen stood next to him and asked if he could help him.

Yoshiki pointed at the car and asked if it was the actual car of "Return to the past and back" films.

"Yes, it is!", said the salesman.

May I ask if sir is a fan of the films?

"I most certainly am!" Yoshiki responded.

How much does it cost?

"Well sir, it does have a rather steep price tag", the salesman answered.

"After all, it is a very iconic car", the car salesman said, while they were walking into his office.

"It was in 3 Oscar nominated movies".

"I understand that a car like this won't come cheap", Yoshiki said , "but I'd like to know the price anyway".

The salesman showed him the price of the DeLorelei car.

Yoshiki had to swallow hard when he saw the price.

"Now, that is rather steep", he said.

"But... I did promise myself a big present, so I'll buy the car".

"Excellent choice sir!" the saleman said, happy with his commission.

"We will make sure the car is being checked and ready to use".

"At what address can we deliver it?"

Yoshiki gave his address and the two men shaked hands.

Yoshiki was nervously pacing up and down the livingroom.

The DeLorelei car could be here any moment!

Finally, the doorbell at the gates rang.

Yoshiki ran to the intercom to answer it.

"Hollywood Cars delivery for Mr. Hayashi", the voice over the intercom said.

"One moment please, I'll open the gate for you", Yoshiki answered.

A large truck with the famous car on it parked in front of the house.

The driver got out and drove the DeLorelei off the truck.

"Here are the papers and the keys", the truck driver said.

"Hope you enjoy the car and I wish you many safe miles".

"Thank you very much", Yoshiki said, while taking the keys and papers from the man.

He drove the car into his garage and sat there, looking at the dashboard.

"It even has the display where you can enter your date and year of choice", he thought.

"I'll go for a little ride later..."

Later that day...

Yoshiki drove his new car through the streets of L.A.

He had to get used to driving a stick again but he soon got the hang of it.

"Let's play with the date & year display", he thought.

"Now, where would I like to go back to", he thought with a chuckle.

"Let's go back to Paris on March 7, 1824".

Yoshiki had recently read Franz Liszt's biography and he would've loved to have been there for Liszt's debut concert.

He typed in the date and year...

Suddenly the car started speeding up.

Yoshiki was too surprised to do anything.

"Oh no, how do I stop this?" He thought. "I don't want to get a speeding ticket!"

He then realized that he wasn't in the streets of L.A. anymore.

"Looks like I've driven onto the set of a film that plays in 1920's Paris" he thought.

He saw people, dressed in Jazz era clothes, looking at the car like they're seeing a ghost.

"I better get out and apologize", Yoshiki thought.

So, he stepped out of the car and he heard people gasp in fear.

"I guess I really startled them", he thought.

"Hi", he said... "I'm really sorry for this".

He was surprised to see a couple of women faint.

He was used to seeing women faint when they saw him but this time it was different.

"OMG, an alien!" One of the women shouted before she passed out.

A shocked Yoshiki looked around, to see what the woman meant.

To his surprise, they were all looking at him.

"I'm not an alien", he said.

"Don't lie to us, alien, we can see that you are one!"

"We see your space suit and strange goggles!"

Yoshiki looked at his all leather suit, high boots and sunglasses.

"Either these people are very good method actors, or..."

"Nah, that's not possible", he thought...

"Excuse me, can you tell me what today's date is and what year it is?" They were all looking at him like he was crazy for asking a question like that.

Someone said: "It's March 7, 1924".

"OMG", Yoshiki said. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" "Look, here's today's newspaper".

The date on the newspaper did have the same date and year.

"Thank you so much", Yoshiki said.

He got back in the car to see what the display said.

It also said March 7, 1924.

"I must have typed the wrong year, while I was watching the road".

"But, but... this isn't possible!" "Is it?"

It was all too much of a coincident...

He then saw that the glove compartment had opened.

There was an envelope inside.

Yoshiki took it out of the compartment and read what was written on it:

"TO THE NEW OWNER OF THE DELORELEI".

Yoshiki thought that it was an envelope with some more information about the car and possibly some advertising for the garage.

He could really use a cup of coffee, after all he had been through.

So, he decided to go to the café and have some coffee over there, while reading whatever is inside the envelope.

#story time #fanfiction #time travel #paris france #1920s #x japan yoshiki #yoshiki #x japan

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

Text

【未定事件簿】Tears of Themis: Main Story 5-37 Translation

Translated parts: Chapter 5 – Sounds of Falling Snow (Part 1, 2, 3): 5-1 / 5-3 / 5-5 / 5-7 / 5-9 / 5-11 / 5-13 ♦️ ♦️ 5-14 / 5-16 / 5-18 / 5-20 / 5-22 / 5-24 / 5-26 / 5-28 ♦️ ♦️ 5-29 / 5-31 / 5-33 / 5-35 / 5-37 / 5-39 / 5-40 / 5-42 / 5-43

Translation Masterlist: here

Video: (39:27) https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV15a4y1j7CW?

Stellis City Police Station

MC: Wang Han, do you still remember how many lies you told yesterday, straight to my face?

Wang Han: I didn’t tell any lies. Everything I said was true…

MC: What I want to understand is the truth behind Kong Moli’s car crash.

MC: You can tell me about this matter. Qiu Heng can also tell me. Right now, he’s in the room right beside this.

MC: To me, there’s no difference between the two of you, but there is only one chance for a commuted sentence due to meritorious service.

MC: Tell me, will he be like you, quibbling until the end, or will he tell me a reasonable and fair truth and let himself be completely exonerated?

Wang Han: !!!

> Have Wang Han explain brake pedal maintenance service

> Have Wang Han explain son’s work

MC: Wang Han, do you know what the reason for Kong Moli’s car crash accident was?

Wang Han: I heard the police say that it was the brakes losing control.

MC: That’s right. On Kong Moli’s SUV, there was one brake pedal that was too worn, resulting in the brakes losing control.

MC: What a big coincidence that her SUV was the same model as the one that you sold off.

MC: Your car originally had an appointment for brake maintenance service. Why did you suddenly cancel the service?

MC: Could it be that you switched Kong Moli’s brakes onto your own car?

Wang Han: It wasn’t! I was just about to change cars, so I cancelled the replacement service!

MC: You’re lying!

MC: After the water pollution, the whole village’s livelihood suffered consequences. You also farmed for Rainbow heart fish. At that time, you really had the heart to change cars?

MC: Plus, yesterday you also lied that the car parked in your yard wasn’t yours!

MC: Lying about this kind of thing where it’s so easy to check the owner – how stupid could you be!

MC: If there is nothing odd about you changing cars, then why would you lie!

Wang Han: I actually was…

Wang Han: When the paper mill paid compensation for the pollution, I somewhat gave myself a little more.

Wang Han: It just so happened that the original SUV needed maintenance, so I just simply changed for a new car…

MC: (He actually admitted that he got greedy with the villagers’ compensation…)

MC: (This instead became an excuse for him to cover up the murder…)

> Have Wang Han explain brake pedal maintenance service > Have Wang Han explain son’s work

MC: Wang Han, I found that your son works at a medical store that Heirson holds controlling shares for.

MC: Looking at that medical store’s typical recruitment criteria, neither your son’s academics or work experience meet them.

MC: Can you explain to me how your son obtained this job position?

MC: Was this the exchange condition that Heirson used to instruct you to kill Kong Moli?

Wang Han: Heirson’s laboratory was built in out village. Of course they would give me some benefits, as the village chief…

Wang Han: My son’s work was set three years ago. It has nothing to do with Kong Moli.

MC: (This entry point doesn’t have much attack power…)

> Prove that Wang Han had the motive to kill Kong Moli > Have Wang Han explain the reason he hid that Qiu Heng went to the village

MC: Wang Han, it was you and Qiu Heng joining hands to kill Kong Moli, right.

MC: Otherwise, why would you lie, saying that you didn’t know that Qiu Heng went to Rainbow River Village?

MC: Because of his thievery, he was caught by Sun Heping and brought to the police station. Even Zhao Yuncui knew. You, the village head, could not have been unaware!

Wang Han: I did know, but I really hadn’t met with him.

Wang Han: I knew he was the key witness in Kong Moli’s case. At that time, I didn’t say because I feared provoking trouble…

Wang Han: At that time, I feared that if you two visited for a while in the village, you would notice the matter of me getting greedy with the compensation. I just wanted to have you leave quickly…

MC: (One instance of corruption became his all-purpose excuse…)

> Prove that Wang Han had the motive to kill Kong Moli

> Have Wang Han explain the reason he hid that Qiu Heng went to the village

MC: The accident’s compensation was just a one-time payment. How long could it have been sufficient for your family to splurge?

MC: Yesterday, I remember that I saw many of the newest, high-class luxury goods at your house.

MC: I see that your real economic source isn’t actually raising fish, nor is it the compensation. It’s the annual dividend Heirson gives to you!

I showed Wang Han the document that Lu Jinghe sent to my inbox. His face immediately became pale.

Wang Han: These dividends started from three years ago. This has nothing to do with Kong Moli…

MC: Why did Heirson use dividends to bribe you?

Wang Han: At the beginning, before the laboratory came, we specifically sought an environmental agency to do an assessment.

Wang Han: At that time, the water that the laboratory let out didn’t meet the required standards. It was me who helped settle things with the environmental agency to get a qualified document.

MC: Good that you’re admitting it!

MC: Your house’s good lifestyle is all reliant on Heirson’s dividends. Using that saying, I could say going from rags to riches is easy, while going from riches to rags is hard…

MC: If Kong Moli really exposed Heirson’s pollution, having Heirson become bankrupt due to fines, just like the paper mill…

MC: Then you wouldn’t be able to continue receiving these dividends!

MC: Aside from this, your son’s work was also set up by Heirson. If Heirson’s problems were investigated, then your son would also be at risk of losing his job.

MC: Unable to farm for Rainbow heart fish, no dividends, no work for your son – your house would be completely out of income sources!

MC: This reasoning was enough for you to murder Kong Moli!

Wang Han: I did hate her for blocking my road to fortune, but I didn’t hurt her.

Wang Han still wanted to quibble. Without waiting for him to spin more lies, Yan Wei knocked the door and entered.

Yan Wei: Lawyer, Qiu Heng says he wants to meet you, *cough cough*.

Coughing twice was the hint that Yan Wei and I had established, to create a sort of “Qiu Heng betrayed his ally” falsehood.

MC: Okay, Leader Yan, I’ll head over now.

MC: Wang Han, you can see now – if you’re not willing to talk, someone else will.

Just when I was about to leave this room, Wang Han suddenly stood up…

Wang Han: No, you cannot believe Qiu Heng! The person who killed Kong Moli was him!

Pet Store

Xia Yan brought Youyou to Anrong Street, number 107. Here, there was a pet store.

Xia Yan: The address that your Auntie Moli left is here.

Xia Yan: Did she leave a pet for you?

Mu Ziyou shook his head.

[Flashback]

Xia Yan: Where’s the password cylinder? Give it to me.

Mo Yi: Have you thought it through? If you guess wrong, the secret in here will be a secret forever.

Xia Yan: When I solve riddles, there’s never the possibility of me solving it wrong.

Mo Yi: You’re quite self-confident.

After a light, crisp sound, the password cylinder opened.

Xia Yan: You have anything else to say now?

Mo Yi: I hope you can be this lucky forever. I am serious.

Xia Yan took out the papyrus paper from the password cylinder. An address was written on it.

Xia Yan: Anrong Street, number 107 – isn’t this near Kong Moli’s house?

Mo Yi took out his phone to check the address – it was a pet store.

Mo Yi: It should be as I speculated – the thing in here was left by Kong Moli for Mu Ziyou. It’s not the essential evidence we’re looking for.

Xia Yan: Then we’ll keep looking. Plus, that child himself is proof of Heirson’s illegal activities.

Xia Yan: Right, how did you confirm that Mu Ziyou was not the one who placed the evidence in Kong Moli’s loft?

Mo Yi: It is true that Mu Ziyou is a child with high IQ, but he is still just a child.

Mo Yi: He could invade the big data lab and tamper with Kong Moli’s case file tags, but collecting those substantial evidences and placing them in the loft…

Mo Yi: He definitely wouldn’t be able to do this.

Xia Yan: I also had my suspicions about this point, but I couldn’t find clues.

Mo Yi: Mu Ziyou’s psychological condition requires treatment rehabilitation. That letter originally was a tool that I used for the treatment.

Mo Yi: By telling him that the letter was left in Kong Moli’s loft, I could both reduce how Mu Ziyou guarded his heart, and get a feel of the answer we want.

Mo Yi: It’s two birds, one stone, no?

Xia Yan: If Mu Ziyou once went to the loft to place evidence, then he would definitely know that the letter was faked by you.

Xia Yan: But if it wasn’t Mu Ziyou, then who could it be that placed the evidence and gave the investigation direction?

Xia Yan: And what is his motive for doing so?

Mo Yi: It’s hard to say whether this person is an enemy or friend.

[Flashback end]

Pet Store Clerk: Mister, I’ve made you wait long.

Pet Store Clerk: We’ve checked the records – last year on September 12, a lady called Kong Moli ordered a British shorthair cat.

Pet Store Clerk: Ms. Kong paid the full price, but never came to get the cat.

Pet Store Clerk: We called Ms. Kong’s phone, and learned that Ms. Kong had passed, so we refunded her money.

Xia Yan: So it’s like this…

Xia Yan: That cat should be the birthday present Kong Moli was to send to Mu Ziyou…

Xia Yan turned around and went to look for Mu Ziyou.

During this time when he spoke to the clerk, Mu Ziyou had run off himself to the front of the pet store’s glass cages.

In the cat hut, two cute British shorthair cats were tumbling around, holding onto each other.

They used their soft little paws to mutually pat at each other. It was hard to say if they were fighting or playing.

Xia Yan: Do those two British shorthairs have a buyer?

Pet Store Clerk: No, those two just came to the store.

Xia Yan: I’ll have them both.

Pet Store Clerk: Are you sure you want two?

Xia Yan: Yep. If there’s only one, it’ll be lonely.

Xia Yan: Help me get matching sets of cat food, cat huts, toys, etc.

Xia Yan: Send them all to this address.

Xia Yan thought a bit and gave Mo Yi’s research centre address to the pet store clerk.

Xia Yan: What if the orphanage won’t allow having pets?

Xia Yan: Either way, he’ll be going to Mo Yi’s place sometimes. Putting them there to raise is the same.

Xia Yan took his phone to pay at checkout.

He didn’t see that behind him, Mu Ziyou was silently looking at him, faintly showing the first smiling expression that he had shown in the past few days.

#tears of themis #tot translation #weiding shijian bu #未定事件簿 #xia yan #mo yi

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chatsanova · 4 years

Text

Pierce My Soul: Chapter 1

I have had this idea under my belt for the past 3 years and finally decided to write and post it. I’m still doing Have Another Go At It, too. So these two will run at the same time.

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Relationship: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Tags: Royal AU, Robin Hood, Fantasy Kingdom Setting, Rogues, Castles, Princes

AO3

Marinette Dupain-Cheng scurried through the village, dropping bread on everyone’s doorstep. This normally took her a while, at least an hour. She would quite often be invited into people’s homes for tea, or long winded conversation. And normally Marinette would happily oblige, but today, she didn’t really have time. She needed to get ready.

Unfortunately her plans of getting ready quickly halted abruptly, as she flew into her home to find a tall blond man speaking to her parents. He was wearing an ill-fitting and worn white shirt, tucked pristinely into his newly tailored trousers, and a mask covering the upper part of his face, showing nothing but green eyes and his mouth which quirked mischievously as she entered.

“Cat Noir!”

“Good morning, Mademoiselle”

“Marinette! You got home very quickly!” Her mother smiled at her.

“What is Cat Noir doing here, mother?” Marinette spat. Cat Noir cocked his head, perplexed.

“He was just stopping in to say good morning.” Her mother turned to put on a hand on his arm affectionately.

“And to say thank you for fixing these pants, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, they fit marvelously.”

“Of course,” a turn of her head and Marinette looked to Cat Noir once more. “We owed you a debt, but I don’t support your methods, Cat Noir, and my family will not be needing your service much longer. If you will excuse me.” With that, she turned to enter her room.

“Marinette, don’t be rude, he’s single-handedly saved the bakery more than once!” her father called after her. She ignored him.

“It is no worry, your daughter has made her point clear to me a number of times. May I…?” he addressed Sabine carefully and gestured to Marinette’s room. Sabine made a face, but nodded. He bowed gratefully, “Merci, Madame.”

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng? May I come in?” There was no door to her room, so he stood dutifully outside the doorway. There was however, a small curtain that hung in the frame, allowing a bit of privacy. He had brought her the fabric from the castle, and she’d only accepted it begrudgingly, and only because he’d insisted that it was being thrown out anyway.

“I hardly think that’s proper. A masked male entering a girl’s dressing chamber.”

Cat Noir had to laugh. She spoke like those in the castle, as if manners and customs mattered. It was like starting from square one with her every time they talked, but the longer they did the more comfortable she’d become. Cat Noir wanted to talk to her forever.

“Of course, but I need to speak with you,” He played with the edges of the fabric that separated them. He hesitated before saying, “Your mother gave me permission.” It was a weird point, but Marinette cared far more about image than he did. She’d talk to him, but only if the situation would allow an observer to leave the moment thinking how well mannered they were.

“Fine. You may enter.” she mumbled.

“Merci, princess.” As he entered, he was hit with a heavy piece of cloth.

“Don’t call me that. I’m no princess.”

“You look more beautiful than any princess I have ever met.” He was teetering on the edge of well-mannered.

“You’ve never met any princesses.”

“You are so certain. Who is to say I haven’t been courted in kingdoms across the land?”

“Me. That’s who.” She too was teetering.

He held up the piece of cloth thrown at him. Her dress was a deep red and soft. It smelled faintly of flour but mostly of lavender.

“Listen, Cat Noir, I appreciate what you’ve done here, I do. You’ve gotten my family out of nasty situation, but that’s not necessary anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m getting a job. Applying for one anyway. I need to support my family for myself. Not have a feline criminal do it for me.”

Cat Noir couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. He thought whatever Marinette and he had going was good, but he couldn’t very well stop her. What was the harm in her having a job anyway?

“Hm, that is very noble of you, Mademoiselle, however who’s to say it cannot be both of us supporting the best bakery in this or any kingdom?”

“Being charming won’t get you out of the gallows, Cat Noir, maybe you should think of yourself sometimes,” Marinette began folding a stack of already folded clothes in front of her, a nervous tick, perhaps.

“You think I’m charming?”

“My parents do, especially when you go around singing the praises of our bread,” She smirked a little, and turned away from him, suddenly very interested in her selection of dresses, though there were only two. There seemed to be an additional one sitting on a table in the corner by the window. Maybe one she was working on.

“Mademoiselle, do you know why I favor this place? Your family?” It was a moment of sincerity that Marinette had not learned to expect from Cat Noir. She slowed slightly, divulging attention to his voice, but did not confirm she wanted to hear him answer. Though he did so anyway, she knew he would. It was not a question as it was a hook.

“I’m concerned for our village, Marinette,” he said softly. He only used her name in moments like this, and those were few and far between. Sometimes they even dared to stand closer than this and sometimes it happened at night out in a field near her house and sometimes it involved a gift for her that she refused to accept until she did. “The people grow poorer, the castle grows richer, and the people of this village can do no more work than they already do. Your parents, and you, are truly the backbone of this village’s hope.”

“My parents make bread,” Marinette sighed.

“Countries have gone to war for less.”

He said it in such a way that surprised her, like he had seen the aftermath himself. He was only her age, and she was only 17. He was a trickster, a thief, an alley cat, nothing more. Why did he sound so tired? She turned around to study his face, and for a moment saw sorrow. It was new for him, at least not that she had seen before. But he quickly shook his head to snap himself out of it, leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

“Making sure you and your family can continue supplying bread, at a price cheap enough for villagers to buy. That is the goal. If you are getting a job, that means more income for your family and even cheaper bread,” He shrugged like the statement made obvious sense.

“And you will continue stealing from the castle to make sure it happens?”

“You know, Mademoiselle, I thought you liked things fair.”

“I do.”

“It is fair that the castle should have such luxurious silk while you make a dress out of aged wool? You work much harder than they do. It is fair that they should have extravagant meals when villagers struggle for one loaf of bread? The villagers are much hungrier than they are.” He unfolded his arms, and crossed the threshold of the bed in the middle of the small room. He was on the same side as her now, and she had to turn to face him.

“Chat Noir, I appreciate the sentiment, I do. Your motivations are noble.”

“Then what is the conflict, I ponder?”

“It’s illegal.”

“Speaking ill of the king is illegal, his law has lost sight of reality.” he dragged a hand through his hair and faced the window above her chair.

“Speaking ill of the king won’t get you hanged.” Marinette spoke softly, as Chat Noir did before. It was the same worried voice. He turned his head to her.

“Your motivations are noble, Mademoiselle, but I have long ago accepted my fate.”

They were quiet. The sentence meant something different to each of them. Marinette, of course, assumed that Chat Noir had always intended to be caught at some point. He was risking his life and he knew it, and would be prepared to face the consequences. Though, Chat Noir had no intention of being hanged. He rubbed his hands on the base of his neck, ruffling the back of his hair. He didn’t like it when they fought.

“You should let me fix your shirt.” She broke the silence, looking down his torso, and brushed a frayed seam with her fingertips. There were plenty of holes and chaffed edges. She could guess from what, but she’d probably be wrong.

“Maybe next time, princess.” He looked at her deeply, a little lazily, “You’ve got your…thing.” He gestured toward her selected dress, laid out on the bed.

“Right. My thing.” Her eyes drifted from his face, maybe catching a bit of that sorrow from before, to the dress. Cat Noir walked to the curtain on the other side of the room, and gently pushed it aside. “Cat Noir… please be careful.”

He didn’t turn to look at her, or nod, or acknowledge she’d said anything aside from standing there for a second longer than he should have, and he left the bakery.

Her mother had instructed her to only go by her French name. Dupain. It was a painful request, but her mother insisted that getting hired in such a place would require some sacrifice. She didn’t know how she felt about sacrificing a piece of her identity, her relation to her mother. At first she refused, but her parents admonished her. It would be okay, she was still a Cheng. She made her way to Castle Agreste.

It wasn’t a long journey, she had hitched a ride with her friend Kim and his buggy. They chatted a bit and he accepted payment in form of a pastry. She hopped off and was greeted by a man who looked like he was prepared to help her off.

“Intended business, Mademoiselle?”

“I’m here for the job posting? I do hope you are still inquiring.”

“Yes yes follow me.” He escorted her into the building which was far more extravagant than she imagined. Art hung on every open surface, a staircase swirled upwards in two directions. It was crowded with things to gaze upon. An east wing blurted yellow, the west wing shouted red. There was a statue in every corner and the ceilings kept going and going and going and going…

She was taken into the main hall and then down a small staircase, much smaller than the one above her. This is where she belonged, certainly. They were an afterthought, creaking below her best shoes, as her shoulders bumped into the walls. There she met a woman sitting at the table in a long room. It was a crowded room but not the same type of crowded the main hall was. The main hall was a large space filled with useless pretty things. Down here was small but filled with purposeful things. There was no art, or statues, just dishes, a table, and many chairs lining it. Beyond this room, there was a kitchen. It was currently bustling, and Marinette ached to feel it. This room was empty save for the woman and the two that just entered. The man who brought her said, “I’ll take your leave”

“Thank you, kindly, sir.” He bowed slightly and she returned with a curtsy.

The woman stood, she was wearing nicer clothes than she would have expected from someone in the servants quarters, but maybe that was a perk of working in the castle.

“Good morning, Mademoiselle.”

“Madame,” she curtsied again, smally, politely.

“You are interested in working in the castle?”

“Oui, Madame…”

“Natalie”

“Madame Natalie. Je suis Marinette Dupain.” She allowed Natalie to sit first, and followed soon after.

“We have kitchen work available, what are your qualifications?”

“Well, my parents run the finest bakery in town, and I often help them. I have been trained in noble customs and serving, and I often cooked for the children I governed.” Master Fu in town had governed Marinette as a young girl, and he was terribly picky about manners, and passed on that same governing to other children in town.

“You were a governess?”

“And a seamstress, Madame.”

“Why do you search for work here?”

“Those positions were unstable, the kids grew up, seamstressing only happens when direly necessary, and never for very much.”

“What you are wearing, did you put it together?”

“Oh only the dress.”

“Hmm.” Natalie tapped the table curiously, considering her options. It seemed as though she liked Marinette, a smile playing on her lips, “Please wait here a moment, Mademoiselle.”

“Of course.”

Natalie stepped from the table and walked into the kitchens, speaking indistinctly with a girl with dark skin and red hair. The girl walked back out with Natalie to Marinette.

“Mademoiselle Dupain, this is Alya Cesaire.” They acknowledged each other. “Alya works in the kitchens under her mother, but for right now I want her to show you around the castle. I have to speak to someone, but I have a feeling you will do nicely here.” She smiled lightly and moved away and up the stairs. Managing to do so with incredible grace. She turned to the new face.

“Hello, I’m Marinette.”

“Alya, like she said. Follow me, I know all the fun spots.” Alya had to be around her age as well, a hopeful thought, as she previously considered that she might be too young for the position. Marinette smiled, and let Alya lead the way. Even though she saw it on the way in, the main hall still took her by surprise. Her eyes were forced to take in so much information at once, that she almost didn’t realize that Alya was talking.

“It’s crazy, right? I’m from the next kingdom over, and though I didn’t see their castle as much, it was maybe half the size.”

Just then, the thought crossed her mind that no would notice it if something were gone. They had so much that one small bauble, even a whole painting wouldn’t be missed. Cat Noir was smarter than she had first thought. And maybe a whole lot dumber.

“And this is just the start.”

It turned out she liked Alya. She was kind and casual, and instantly made Marinette feel comfortable in possibly the most foreign situation of her life. It was easier when they were both fish out of water, just one happened to learn to breathe a long time ago. Alya spoke about her experiences in the kitchen. It was often loud and full of women, the best sort of places in Marinette’s opinion, and the food was magical. Her mom had worked here for years and once Alya came of age she followed her here. She had a father and three sisters at home. Her home was also loud and full of women and magical food. It explained Alya’s ease. They woke up incredibly early, and also had to supply food for large gatherings.

“Even a ball once. We were cooking through the night, that time.”

The rest of the castle was quiet in comparison to these stories, Marinette thought. She wondered what mysteries took place above. They passed dozens of servants while walking around, all greeting Alya and introducing themselves to Marinette. They found themselves in the courtyard, a large green clearing surrounded by hedges and flowers. In the distance, the stables fell behind a walking path.

“Nino, the stable boy, works over there. He and Prince Adrien are best friends.”

“Hmm, Prince Adrien, I don’t hear much about him.”

“That’s because he mostly keeps to himself. He’s polite to us, quiet. Sometimes a bit sassy, to tell you the truth. But I mostly know this from Nino. I don’t really see the prince much.”

From behind them, Natalie called, “Mademoiselle Dupain, Cesaire?”

The girls turned, of course, and Madame Natalie gestured for them to follow. They did so. Natalie spoke over her shoulder, “Mademoiselle, I know you are here for a kitchen job, but there is actually another job opening that I have been preparing for, and I think you may be a good fit.”

Beside her, Alya gasped, “Madame Natalie, you don’t mean…”

“Alya!” Natalie’s tone warned her of overstepping. Marinette flushed.

“She’s just begun! That position is cursed!”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the termed cursed.

“Don’t be silly, Alya,”

“Not a single person has lasted a month.”

“Now, Alya...go back to the kitchens at once.” Natalie turned stern for a moment, and Alya dared not push further. She gave Marinette a sympathetic glance and she was gone.

“Mademoiselle, please follow me. You have an audience with the King.”

“The King?!” she dropped her composure for a small moment, “Forgive me, I just didn’t expect to meet His Royal Highness so soon.”

“I don’t blame your surprise. This is an unusual circumstance. But I have a good feeling about you.”

“Well, I’m honored, bu--”

They arrived at a grand doorway. A doorway appeared to be the only thing between her and the king. She took a deep breath, and Natalie opened the doors. Marinette followed closely behind into the throne room.

#ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #ml royal au #marichat #adrienette #love square #ml fanfiction #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #cat noir #ladybug

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malecsecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, the-prophet-lemonade!

For @the-prophet-lemonade. So, I honestly panicked when I received the name of my giftee. Lucy, I did my best to put as many tropes as you like here. I hope it's not too crazy or confusing. I've never written space opera before, and it was a big challenge. I hope you like it 🙈

Read On AO3

*****

I’m gonna hold you (like I’m saying goodbye)

“Alexander!”

“On it!” Alec shouted back, sprinting through the busy, narrow alley. They’d been tailing the dragonfly-shaped creature for fifteen space jumps and through three galaxies, and they didn’t have the luxury of time to keep playing tag.

At least, Magnus didn’t have it.

Groaning, Alec saw the moment their target rose its wings and took flight.

Oh no.

That motherfucker wouldn’t.

Activating his runes, Alec jumped to his right and landed briefly on a barrel before launching himself upwards. He sprang from a windowsill on the left to a roof on the right, and pushed himself far enough to grab the creature’s tail and force them both back down.

With the natural grace of a Nephil – a blessed warrior crafted from the Creation’s purest energy – Alec landed graciously on the ground; or, more specifically, over his target’s body. Without wasting a beat, Alec unsheathed his Seraph blade and held it to the other figure’s neck.

“No more games. Where is the egg?” he asked with as much authority as he could muster, a dangerous threat lacing his voice.

The dragonfly-creature groaned, but relented, giving Alec the coordinates for the Dragon egg’s location.

“Alexander,” Magnus called again, finally reaching the Nephil. He stopped to catch his breath, having to sit for a moment. He was exhausted. The amount of power needed to keep his glamour up, hiding his scales, has been very taxing to his body lately.

Turning his head in Magnus’ direction, Alec’s face softened instantaneously. Glancing down to the robotic cat at Magnus’ feet, Alec spoke kindly. “Chairman, can you send a message to Isabelle Lightwood at the 987th octant of Idris galaxy? Tell her to come to the Seelie Planet. I got another illegal dealer.”

Chairman Meow’s face lit up in an affirmative, a rush of numbers and coordinates passing through the screen as the message was sent. Meanwhile, Alec pressed his knee more forcefully against the criminal who was still hissing and cursing him.

“For your cooperation, I’m going to request a lenient sentence for you. But if you are trying to mislead me, I swear I’ll personally throw you into the nearest black hole,” Alec growled, making Magnus snicker. He knew Alec would never do that to another living being, it was too cruel a move for his big-hearted friend; but the criminals didn’t know that, so they always complied.

Well, at least they now knew where to get the seventh Dragon egg.

~*~

The 5 th Draconic Rule – Mates

Gift – Every Dragon has a bonded mate; a soul created exclusively for their care, protection, and devotion. The bond is sacred, and its strength ensures the power and mental stability of a Dragon.

Curse – A Dragon who is without a mate on their thousandth supernoval cycle is fated to meet one of only two ends: complete madness, or death.

~*~

When the first translucent scales appeared, tiny ones near his hip, Magnus knew the clock was ticking. He would have to decide soon, and although he already knew which option it was going to be, it didn’t make taking the final leap less daunting.

His father was one of the most powerful dragons to ever exist, coming from royal lineage and with an entire planet under his claws. But his power came with a price - always a price - and his reign was tainted with blood and death.

Magnus refused to be part of it, to continue a kingdom built on pain and tears. His refusal also came with a price - when he was finally able to break free from Asmodeus, his father used one last trick.

He cursed Magnus' soul to never recognize his counterpart. Without the guide for his fated bond, he would never find his rider.

Asmodeus condemned Magnus to a lonely life with a sad end.

~*~

While waiting for the magnetic storm that would enable the space jump they needed to get to their next location, Magnus and Alec decided to venture through the heavily decorated town, full of warm lights and oddly curved, red-and-white striped decorations. The townspeople were apparently celebrating some kind of deity which was dear to their small planet, so the festivities were expected to go on for two whole weeks. A lot of visitors from other planets made the crowded streets busier than ever, the local merchants thriving as they sold their domestic goods and traditional food.

Holding each other’s hand to not get lost within the busy streets – though both knew better than to believe in that weak excuse – Magnus and Alec enjoyed the proximity and warmth of their interlaced fingers.

They had lost so much time, avoiding any attempt at something besides friendship due to their fear of an expected separation. After all, if Magnus did miraculously find his mate, their time together would end, and it would be too painful to accept that reality. All right, maybe the bond could be platonic – it had happened in other cases. But what if it wasn’t? By now, Alec knew about Magnus’ feelings for him; but what if the bond was stronger? What if Magnus fell in love at first sight with his rider?

Of course Alec would let him go, but it would hurt so much. And Magnus also knew what Alec felt, and would never want to inflict that kind of pain on him.

Their separation had maybe always been inevitable - but if they were going to save Magnus’ life, it would have to be soon, too. So, as a small mercy to themselves, they’d finally agreed to make the most of the time they still had together before…

Before whatever ending waited for them – Magnus’ salvation, or his death.

They wouldn’t put a name or label on their brief, joyful time together.

They would just be them.

Just Magnus and Alec.

They tried to have some fun, at least - and this festival was no exception. They played some of the games and won a few good prizes – which they didn’t mind giving to some of the children who looked at them with pleading eyes. They ate and drank and laughed. It was good. It didn’t feel like a big disaster was just waiting to fall on their heads at any time.

When night started to set and thousands of moonlight orbs floated in the growing light to illuminate the festival, Alec pulled Magnus aside to put something on his hand. It was a small, rectangular charm, made of red silk and golden thread.

“What is this?” There were awe and wonder in Magnus’ eyes, making them sparkle even more.

He is so beautiful. Alec smiled bashfully.

“It’s called an omamori. They are sacred to the feathered race, and I’ve heard that only those from the Phoenix constellation can make this. Each color and each thread are carefully chosen as they have different meanings, and ultimately the charm is bathed in blessed ashes mixed with powdered moonstone to strengthen its power.”

Magnus nodded slowly, taking in every detail and tracing the omamori with reverent fingers.

“What does this one mean?”

While Magnus was distracted by some silk scarves, Alec was drawn to the mystic power of a stall full of charms, which were being sold by a humanoid, copper-feathered bird wearing more jewels and chains than clothes.

The kind vendor explained the basics of omamori magic to Alec, and he felt more compelled than ever to buy one. He was torn between two – a blue and silver one, and a red and golden one, but when the vendor told him the blue and silver omamori was for success and longevity, oh… Alec felt a pang in his heart.

It would be clinging to something that would almost certainly never happen.

But the other option…

“Luck and protection.” Because if things went well? It would be by sheer luck. And protection… “Because I swore to always protect you, and I meant it - this way, if something happens and I’m not there, you’ll still be guarded.”

“Oh…” Magnus breathed softly, a small and genuine smile lighting up his face. He touched the omamori gently to his lips, his draconic eyes shining. “Thank you, Alexander.”

The soldier ducked his head and smiled, before nodding towards the food court.

“What do you say to some sweets from the Orion constellation?” They were some of Magnus’ favorites, he knew.

Magnus grinned. “You really know the way to a dragon’s heart,” he declared with a wink.

That Alec already lived in one was left unsaid.

~*~

The 9 th Draconic Rule – Scales

Gift – Every Dragon is born with silver scales, representing their purity of soul and a whole canvas of possibilities. They sing in gold when the ritual of mating is complete, and will then shift into a new color, signifying the Dragon’s new identity.

Curse – Bondless Dragons will surrender to red or black scales. Red scales for an eternal feral state and solitude. Black scales for the grief of death.

~*~

“Approaching the Dragon Sanctuary.” Alec announced through his communicator, unable to contain the excitement in his voice.

“Again?” Jace teased through the same communicator. “I don’t know why you still bother to come back to Idris at all. It’s clear you have a new home now.” Alec didn’t dignify his brother with an answer, mostly because that would mean admitting he was half-right.

Because no, Alec didn’t see Alicante as home anymore, even though he’d grown up there. But home wasn’t the Dragon Sanctuary either.

Home was a breathing thing. A person.

Or, in better terms, home was a dragon.

Alec first met Magnus when he was only sixteen. It was an odd situation, but somehow they saved each other while fighting against a group of mercenary hunters. After that, Magnus accompanied Alec for some time to make sure he would get back home without any more problems.

From there, they never stopped seeing each other. Ten years later and their visits had continued all the while. It was hard sometimes, since they lived in different galaxies; but Alec was one of the best warriors and pilots from Idris galaxy, and it wasn’t a problem for him to escape sometimes to go and see the one who made his heart beat a little faster and his mind spin.

Turning off the communicator once more, Alec finished the landing procedures, and stepped out of the craft onto the grass surrounding Magnus’ nest.

When he felt something quickly curl around his body, he didn’t even flinch. He would recognize that warmth and sandalwood scent anywhere.

“Hey,” Alec grinned, petting the dragon’s head as it kept nuzzling his cheek. Magnus’ true form was much, much bigger than this one, but he liked to say that this was the perfect size to cuddle Alec.

“Hello, pretty boy.” Magnus’ voice in his draconic form was a bit deeper, but still soft, with a musical lilt. “Missed my eyes?” As if to make his point, he lifted his head and golden, slitted eyes bored into Alec’s hazel ones, until a flirtatious wink broke the spell.

“Actually, I missed all of you, not only the eyes.” Alec answered bluntly as always, making Magnus pause in surprise and then burst out in delighted laughter.

A second later, Magnus shifted back into his human form, magic already wrapping him in clothes. Still, he didn’t let go of Alec and hugged the Nephil for a little longer.

Magnus wasn’t one to hug much – that was more Alec’s department – so when the dragon lingered longer and actually tightened the embrace a bit desperately, Alec knew something was wrong.

“What is it?” Alec pulled gently away so that he could turn and look at Magnus, and his smile faltered when he saw the dragon’s crestfallen face.

Instead of replying, Magnus just pulled back part of his cloak, showing his collarbones. And showing the translucent scales that glinted on his skin.

Translucent scales, on his human form.

Alec felt his face drain of color, and he grabbed urgently at Magnus’ shoulders. “When?”

“Last week,” Magnus mumbled. “This is why I asked you to come a little earlier. You… you know what this means.”

“Magnus…” Alec felt his heart ready to combust from sheer panic. “Your choice… What choice have you made?”

Magnus flinched at that, and right then Alec had his answer. He closed his eyes, willing the tears to not come.

Of course. Of course Magnus would want that.

Without his soulmate, spending the rest of his eternal life as a barely-sentient, feral creature would be Magnus’ worst nightmare.

Of course he would choose death.

But Alec had barely opened his mouth to protest when two other dragons landed beside them.

“Cat, Ragnor, good of you to join the party.” Magnus smiled, putting on that happy façade which Alec absolutely hated to see on his friend’s face.

Catarina and Ragnor were Magnus’ best friends, and together they formed a trio of unshakable loyalty and care. However, unlike Magnus, those two already had riders with platonic bonds. Ragnor, whose scales were the beautiful green of a forest touched by the first rays of light after dawn and whose horns had a curvature bigger than his head, was bonded to a priest called Raphael. And Cat, whose scales were the fresh blue of the clearest ocean, was bonded to a little girl called Madzie who was still learning how to be a rider.

As for Magnus…

Alec thought about Magnus’ silver scales. Usually they were a dragon’s version of ‘plain’, but Magnus was always adorning them with jewelry, until he not only shined but sparkled like a gemstone in the sun. But still, all the decoration in the world didn’t change the message a silver scale sent.

Magnus was bondless.

He was alone.

He had no one to care for him, to love him.

Alec sighed inwardly. What an ugly lie. If he could…

But that thought was quickly interrupted by Cat dropping yet another bombshell.

“We found a solution,” she began, speaking as soon as she shifted back into her human form. “It was hard, but the Elders finally yielded. Have you ever heard of the Journey of Eight?”

“Isn’t that a myth?” Magnus frowned.

“All myths are real, dumbass.” Ragnor grumbled, also shifting. Then, he turned to Alec, who presumably looked very lost. “Dragon eggs are rare and very precious for us,” he explained, “but they also emanate a lot of power, which unfortunately serves to draw untowards attention.”

Alec nodded, already aware of that fact. Dragon eggs were on the top of mercenary hunters’ list to acquire. A small piece was worth a fortune capable of sustaining a family for three generations.

“When a Dragon is born, no matter where it is in the Universe, it’s imperative that the remnants of the egg should be destroyed, or else anyone could get their hands on it.” Cat continued. “But there are rumors of Dragons who didn’t have the chance to do that, so some of their egg remains.”

“There is even one in a fucking museum,” Ragnor grumbled.

Catarina grimaced. “Yes, there is. But our point is - Magnus, if you collect one piece of eight different eggs, their power would be enough to fuel a ritual that will point in the direction of your rider, no matter how far away they are.”

“What?” Magnus spluttered, and Alec felt the same, torn between shock and hope.

Magnus could be saved.

“Do you know the coordinates for those pieces? I can go take them right now!” Alec stood at attention, a soldier more than eager to take orders and act.

“Alexander!” Now Magnus was the shocked one. “My thousandth cycle is in a month's time. It’s impossible to search through millions of galaxies in that time.”

“But we have to at least try,” Alec insisted. “Listen, my ship is fast. I’m a good pilot. If I have the coordinates? I don’t care if I have to make five hundred jumps, or five thousand jumps, Magnus. I won’t miss this opportunity to help you.”

Magnus’ Adam’s apple bobbed painfully as he swallowed. That sweet, sweet man.

Biting his lower lip, Magnus nodded, a fierce expression crossing his face.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Magnus, I can handle–”

“No, this is non-negotiable. The Dragon eggs are for me, so I decide that. Besides…” Bringing a hand to his lips, Magnus whistled loudly.

Seconds later, his robotic cat – Chairman Meow – came running from Magnus’ nest. As cute and small Chairman looked, Alec knew better.

That robot knew one hundred ways to kill and hide the body without anyone knowing.

“Chairman only goes where I go.” Magnus grinned. “And my intuition tells me he will be a very useful addition to our team.”

~*~

The snow drifted slowly, dancing and tumbling in the air like fireflies. It was beautiful, especially when the scarce light caught it and reflected a fleeting, pocket-sized aurora. However, as pretty as it might be, it was also a sign of the steely and dangerous cold. The situation of sharing a single bed seemed less ‘odd’ and more like an obviously excellent idea, the two of them bundling up under the same blanket to keep themselves warm.

Alec didn’t mind, especially since he would do anything to stop Magnus’ shivering body from shutting down. The fire in the hearth wasn’t enough anymore, hadn’t been for hours. Chairman Meow had already needed to activate one of his survival mode settings, too, turning into a small space heater to keep the chill at bay.

Magnus was running out of time.

Not only his body was starting to freeze from inside out, his blood running sluggishly, but more scales were blooming and darkening. They’d already advanced over his neck and reached his chin, and by now they were half-covering his forearms and thighs, too.

They were killing him.

Alec let out a shuddering breath and held Magnus more tightly against his own body, earning a weak, content sigh from the dragon. Looking out of the window, past the snow and lights, Alec sent up a prayer - or just a desperate plea - to the stars hidden up above, or whatever power lurked behind them.

Please, don’t take him away from me. Give us more time. Please, please.

~*~

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. The last Dragon egg was said to be inside a cave that only other dragons could locate, and Magnus found it easily - but they hadn't expected to also find mercenary hunters. It was unbelievable that even after Valentine’s demise, his goons were still out there causing havoc, enacting his toxic and distorted vision.

Fucking dammit.

Nothing was easy, huh?

When they’d retrieved the first few egg fragments, fights hadn’t been a problem - Alec and Magnus worked well as partners in battle. But now, with Magnus growing ever weaker, the only way they stood half a chance was if Chairman Meow was also actively helping them fight.

Which meant it was a good thing the cat was programmed to spit fire. Bless Magnus for having insisted on bringing him with them - a portable flamethrower was exactly what they needed, especially after Alec’s second Seraph blade fell into the river of lava below.

After all, going for a swim to retrieve it was hardly an option.

Magnus finally reached the eggshell fragment - the last piece they needed, hidden in a glamoured nest. Alec was still finishing off the last hunters, struggling without Magnus’ help and his increasing fatigue. By now, he’d lost not only both blades, but also his bow - he was using his arrows as last-resort weapons, now. Eventually, though, one of them struck home in the eye of the last hunter standing, and Alec slumped, catching his breath.

It was too soon.

One of the hunters who was already down – an elemental demon, who despite his half-burned body suddenly seemed to find a last burst of energy - struck out, launching a ball of raw elemental power at Alec.

Alec barely had time to blink before Magnus pushed him out of the way and took the brunt of it.

“NO!” Alec screamed, crashing to his knees. “You fucking stupid, fucking idiot…” He crawled over to Magnus and cradled his limp form, anguish threatening to swallow him whole even as he brought the dragon as close as possible.

“Not… charming, darling…” Magnus coughed, blinking sluggishly.

“Don’t care. How many times have we talked about your dumb self-sacrificing tendencies? You are not a fucking living shield!”

“You’re one to talk. Also, you are saying the word ‘fucking’ far too much, Alexander. Is there some kind of urge you’re trying to hint at right now?” Magnus gave a wobbly smile, as well as a bleary, poor attempt at a wink.

“Stop flirting,” Alec chastised, a lopsided grin slowly blooming on his own lips despite his rising fear.

Magnus hummed in acknowledgment, but no other quip came forth. Instead, his eyes closed and didn’t open again.

“Magnus?” Nothing. “Magnus, hey-” He shook the dragon a little bit, Magnus staying unresponsive - but the change in position illuminated black scales, new ones, growing on his face.

They were out of time.

Resisting the urge to break down right there, Alec lifted Magnus up and strode towards his ship.

They had to go back to the Dragon Sanctuary now.

~*~

Alec could count on only one hand how many times he left his ship to navigate by autopilot. It’s not that the AI wasn’t efficient; Alicante’s technology was undeniably some of the best in the known Universe. Most of his people still believed it to be their divine right, as they were the chosen ones from the Creation itself.

There was a time Alec also believed in that natural, just superiority. Until...

A weak tremor caught his attention and he looked back down at the man still cradled in his arms. Magnus’ human form was fading. His breathing was ragged and his pulse was weak.

“Fuck,” Alec cursed, his eyes blowing wide in panic. “Church, go faster!”

“We are already at maximum speed, sir.”

Alec cursed again. He needed to pilot the ship manually, so he could break past the damn protocols and force the system to crash its primary settings. Without the restraints implanted by the Clave, he could burn up all of the stamina core in minutes and increase their speed tenfold.

He’d be in big trouble for it, of course, but he didn’t care. Magnus was his priority.

He had been for a long time.

AIs weren’t made to enter a gravitational field by themselves, the unpredictable shifts in G making the systems unstable to the point of shutdown. Always, always turning off the autopilot and navigating manually through gravitational fields was one of the first things Alec had learned at Alicante Academy.

But right now, he either piloted or held Magnus. He couldn’t do both, and maybe they needed the speed, but putting Magnus down away from his warmth and posture support was out of the question.

So, Alec made his choice.

And he could only pray it was the right one.

ATTENTION

SAFETY PROTOCOL MALFUNCTION

CRASH LANDING IMMINENT

“Chairman, secure us!” Alec yelled amidst the blaring alarms, and the robot promptly leaped into action. Elongating his tail, he fastened it around Alec and Magnus, pinning them on the makeshift bed. His claws also grew and penetrated the metal floor, firmly holding onto it.

Alec closed his eyes and waited, hoping for the best. And if the worst happened instead?

Well, Magnus was already dying.

At least he wouldn’t die alone.

ATTENTION

TRAJECTORY UNSAFE

CRASH LANDING IMMI-

~*~

The 6 th Draconic Rule – Bonds

Gift – The bonds have two different natures; they can be either platonic or romantic. The platonic bond is more common, but the romantic bond is more powerful. Combined with partnership, the soul bond allows for total connection and shared strength.

Curse – A rider can reject a bond if they do not desire to be by their Dragon’s side. The pain of rejection is visceral. Death is considered a far kinder fate.

~*~

“…wood. Lightwood! Bloody hell, boy! Where did you learn to pilot? Your ship is a goddamned wreck-”

“Ragnor, if you aren’t going to help, do be quiet. Concussions don’t heal themselves, I have work to do.”

“Just wake him, for fuck’s sake! Concussion or not, he’s the only one here who can take Magnus to the fountain, and if he doesn’t damn well hurry up-”

Alec’s eyes snapped open, his body jackknifing upwards. Instinct kicked in before recognition, his frantic heart threatening to escape from his chest, and he reached for Magnus – who was still unconscious and laying beside him.

With trembling fingers, he pressed down on the pulse point at Magnus’.

It was so faint…

“Alec, we’re nearly out of time.” His attention finally snapped upwards to the two other dragons present, his brain kicking back into gear with a spike of hope. If Catarina and Ragnor were there, that meant they did it, they reached the Dragon Sanctuary. “Did you get all eight pieces?”

Alec nodded, grabbing at the small satchel attached to the cord on his neck.

“Perfect. We have to go.” Cat opened a portal and stepped through it without missing a beat. Ragnor followed, looking back at Alec one last time with a worried glare that quite clearly meant hurry the fuck up.

Alec didn’t need to be told twice. He lifted Magnus into his arms once more, and the two of them disappeared through the portal.

On the other side, Alec stepped out into the most majestic scenery he’d ever seen. They were inside some kind of cavern, what looked like the base of a mountain with how high it was, the ceiling barely visible. The walls and whole swathes of the floor were covered with stalagmites so clear, they seemed made of pure crystal.

A moment later, the torches around them flared to life, and produced a whole spectrum of colors and magic and sound.

Alec didn’t know how that was possible, but it was like the stones were humming some kind of melody.

In the center of everything, there was a fountain – the water so crystal blue, it was easy to see the sigils and marks on the bottom of it. Around it, exactly eight bowls – equally distanced from each other – with eight black candles already alight, burning gold as Cat or Ragnor threw a piece of dragon egg into each flame.

When the last piece was burned, the entire fountain began to shine.

“Put him in the water, now!” Ragnor practically roared, but Alec was already in motion, leaping straight into the center of the water; Magnus floated freely, but Alec couldn’t step away, opened his mouth to ask if the ritual would work with him there and-

The water pulsed.

No, wait - it was Magnus’ body pulsing, his soul looking for its counterpart.

Three beats later, everything stilled.

Alec waited with bated breath, expecting at any moment to see some kind of magical arrow appear, pointing to where Magnus’ soulmate was.

But absolutely nothing happened.

Alec’s heart plummeted. They were too late, they- “No, no, no,” he mumbled, his hands twitching at his sides. “Why didn't it work? He needs his rider. Why–”

“Alec,” Cat interrupted him, but not unkindly. “Look down.”

Blinking hard, he did exactly that.

There was a gold thread coming out from Magnus’ chest and connecting to…

Oh.

Connecting to his own chest.

It was him? He was Magnus’ rider?

Another pulse, and something – something ancient and powerful – whispered in his ear.

And suddenly, Alec knew exactly what to do.

Lowering himself further into the water and bringing Magnus into his arms once more, he kissed his dragon’s forehead, and then began to chant in a strong, quiet voice.

“Thee and me ever entwin'd

Dragon of mine, heart of blissful shine

I bond myself to thee, now and forever

Dragon of mine, mine own eternal shrine”

A pulse.

The water shone silver.

Another pulse.

And like molten obsidian, Magnus’ scales turned from black to gold.

Another pulse, and another, and another and another-

The cave was coming alive like a dormant heart, beating against long-worn stillness. And then it breathed - and Magnus transformed, his bones shifting under blinding light, stretching into a dragon form that was so big, he ended up occupying almost the entire fountain.

When the light dissipated, his scales weren’t gold anymore.

Nor – thankfully – black.

They were a mesmerizing azure blue.

Alec bit back a cry of joy, and relief, and excitement. Magnus was saved.

Magnus was going to be alright.

“My rider,” Magnus rumbled, lowering his head – so big, just his eye was bigger than Alec’s head – and nuzzled against Alec’s chest. “My darling Alexander. It has always been you.”

“Yeah…” Alec closed his eyes, feeling all the tension leave him at once, and letting himself snuggle against Magnus. Suddenly, a chuckle slipped free. “I can’t believe that damn curse prevented us from seeing the obvious.”

“I can’t believe it worked; I was almost certain that the eggs wouldn’t help,” Magnus hummed. “Even if they pointed to the direction where my rider was supposed to be, there was still the possibility of them being too far away for me to get there in time. Or they could have been dead. Or… or they could have rejected me.”

Now that they were bonded, Alec could feel the fear bleeding from Magnus’ words, and it made his own heart ache. “So why did you want to go through all that trouble just to get them?” he asked, frowning.

“To be with you,” the dragon replied simply. “If I was going to die, I wanted to spend my last moments with the person who made me the happiest.”

“Magnus…” Alec felt a lump rise to his throat, and held his dragon a little tighter. Just thinking about Magnus’ demise was enough to make him shiver. He hoped to never feel that fear again.

“Oddly enough, Magnus is right,” Catarina suddenly said, drawing their attention. “The eggs didn’t help at all, really.” She grinned at their clear confusion. “I’m sorry for the deception, but it was the only way. The truth is, it was never about the eggs. It was about the journey - your journey.” Her smile softened. “You two already had a natural bond in place, but Asmodeus’ curse was messing with the nature of it. You fell in love without knowing you were soulmates.”

Alec blushed. Love… Even if they had never put a label on what they were, on what they felt for the other…

Love felt very right.

“That’s also why Magnus didn’t fade so fast,” Ragnor added. “Had he spent that length of time alone, he never would have stood a chance. He could only hold on because you were always together.”

At that moment, Magnus returned to his human form, and for the first time in months, he looked healthy. Alec was so relieved, he felt like crying.

Naturally, Magnus immediately broke the moment. “Now you don’t have an excuse not to ride me, Alexander,” he declared with a smirk.

Alec snorted, but the sound was too close to a sob. He thought he was going to lose that, too. Magnus’ terrible jokes and shameless flirtations. Unable to stand even a tiny distance any longer, he practically threw himself at Magnus, hugging him firmly and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“I promise to always protect you,” he said fiercely. “Nothing bad will happen to you again. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

“This sounds awfully like a wedding vow, darling,” Magnus teased - but there was a note of insecurity in his voice, too.

“I mean, we can get married, can’t we?” Still holding his soulmate, Alec turned to Cat and Ragnor, as if looking for their blessing. After getting a nod and appreciative smiles from both, Alec turned back to Magnus and held his face with the utmost care and affection.

Then, he leaned in and finally, finally kissed Magnus.

Magnus kissed back with equal fervor, yearning for the sweet contact he’d craved for so long. They only pulled apart to finally say what could no longer be contained - the only words that really mattered, the ones they needed to pronounce and hear more than they needed air to breathe.

“I love you.”

I love you, I love you, I love you.

#the-prophet-lemonade #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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lesdemonium · 4 years

Text

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope Chapter 12

Ship: Geraskier Word count: 32959 (total) Chapter: 12/16 Summary:

“Such a nice, beautiful sound,” the fae crooned. “If only he were this way always.”

Julian’s mother stood up. She claimed she was prepared to stop the fae, to protect her baby, but in Julian’s darkest moments he doubted this part of the story. His mother loved him, of that he had no doubt, but she had been young and weary, and even years later, she couldn’t quite get the twinge of exhaustion out of her eyes when she recalled Julian’s infancy. Even if she had been keen on protecting him, the fae was too close, too fast, too set on his plan.

“A gift, for the new mother,” the fae continued. He leaned a hand in to stroke Julian’s cheek. “I give you the gift of obedience.”

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier’s mother with Jaskier’s obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the “gift” became more of a curse.

Additional tags: AngstAngst with a Happy EndingHeavy AngstUnrequited LoveNot Actually Unrequited LoveAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceCanon EraNot Canon CompliantCursed Jaskier | DandelionAlternate Universe - Ella Enchanted FusionCurse of ObedienceRape/Non-con ElementsImplied/Referenced Rape/Non-conJaskier | Dandelion Whump

read on ao3 - read chapter 1 on ao3

read chapter 1 on tumblr

The weeks went by, but Jaskier hardly noticed them.

There was a monotony to it all. A familiar pattern. They would come to a town, Geralt would take a contract, they would argue about whether or not Jaskier could come on the contract, and then Jaskier would usually follow Geralt on the contract, no matter the answer. Kill the beast, get the money, find another town. Jaskier would compose his songs, Geralt would roll his eyes, and sometimes they’d fall into bed together.

Now, Geralt noticed things. He sat closer as Jaskier performed, primed to call off any hecklers. He had never bossed Jaskier around when they were intimate, but now he was more wary of it at other times as well. Every time he started to say something to Jaskier, only to pause and restart, Jaskier’s entire chest felt warm with affection. The first few times, Jaskier kissed Geralt breathless, drinking in the way Geralt grew embarrassed and bashful under Jaskier’s attention and adoration. It made Geralt sheepish, though, and soon Jaskier learned to back off. Now, whenever Geralt caught himself, Jaskier reached out to touch him, either with a hand on the witcher’s shoulder, a press of their knees together, or a nudge with his hip.

It took Jaskier a while to notice that something was going on. What Jaskier had thought was just idle traveling, he soon realized wasn’t the case at all. Geralt had brought them to every single township they could reach after they left Lettenhove. He had done so with more painstaking detail than Jaskier had seen him put into any other venture.

Once Jaskier realized this, he then began to notice Geralt slipping away for about an hour, every time they first came to a town. Jaskier hadn’t thought anything of this before, as sometimes Geralt went off to inquire about contracts without Jaskier, but he had never done it intentionally or secretively like he was now.

“Where are you going?” Jaskier asked him in Mayena. Geralt’s face was as stoic as ever, but Jaskier saw something flash in his eyes, just for a moment, before it was gone again and Geralt shrugged.

“Going to talk to the alderman. See if there are any monsters here.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. “I’ll go with you.”

Geralt shook his head immediately. “No, you should go secure us a room at the inn. This won’t take long.”

“If it won’t take long, then surely I’ll make it go quicker, and then we both can get the room,” Jaskier argued. “Besides, I negotiate price better than you do, and with how often we’ve been staying in inns, we could use the extra coin.”

They had never stayed in inns as often as they had since leaving Lettenhove. At first, Jaskier had enjoyed it, had loved the hints of luxury they had been able to indulge in unlike ever before. This was what had tipped him off that they were stopping in every town, though. It wasn’t practical to stay in towns as frequently as they had, and the monster contracts were lacking. Jaskier had made far more money than he ever had before, but Geralt was growing restless and Jaskier was wanting for new material.

“No, this town looks busy,” Geralt lied. Geralt had so few tells for when he was lying, but Jaskier knew this was a lie. He knew Geralt. And, he could see for himself that the town did not look particularly busy. “If we wait too long, there won’t be any rooms left. And I want a bath.”

He had wanted a bath in the last three towns, as well, and used that for an excuse for Jaskier to go on ahead. Jaskier huffed, but he knew better than to argue with Geralt now. If he was so insistent on this lie, Jaskier would have to tackle it from a different angle. Jaskier watched Geralt walk away. If Geralt were anyone else, Jaskier would take matters into his own hands and follow Geralt. As it was, though, following a witcher would be impossible.

Geralt slipped into a building--probably to see the alderman--and Jaskier huffed, finally turning toward the inn and stepping inside.

When Geralt returned, an hour later, Jaskier was sitting on the bed in their room. He had left instructions for the innkeeper to direct Geralt this way, and Geralt opened the door to their shared room with a raised eyebrow, silently questioning why Jaskier was here , rather than down in the tavern making coin. Jaskier ignored it.

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt hummed at him, then set about putting his things away. Jaskier watched him, watched the easy, comfortable way Geralt mixed his own belongings with Jaskier. It was almost domestic. Jaskier wasn’t sure when they had become so comfortable with each other, when they had developed such deeply rooted routines. It was the first time being with someone, reaching comfort with someone, put Jaskier’s mind at ease. And, yet, still it was tinged with something . Their clothes and weapons and mundanity of their lives belonged together, but not their secrets.

“Are you looking for something?”

Geralt turned to Jaskier, his eyebrows furrowed and confusion in his eyes. “A place to keep my scabbard?” he answered, with just a hint of amusement.

“We’ve been in every town since the court. Every single one we’ve passed. Not a single night of camping in weeks, and I know you’re not getting good contracts,” Jaskier said, crossing his arms and leveling Geralt’s amusement with a glare. “You’re sneaking off for at least an hour every time and you’re lying to me. Why? What have you been doing?”

Geralt was silent for a moment, just staring at Jaskier, then he turned and continued unpacking. Jaskier watched his back, which Geralt resolutely kept turned to him, and waited. He would speak. He would explain.

“I’m not lying to you--”

“He says, lying ,” Jaskier bit back.

“You lie to me all the time.”

“I can’t lie to you, remember? Obedience curse!”

“Obedience curse, not honesty curse. You lie all the time, Jaskier, even Lazuli said so--”

“We’re not talking about me right now, we’re talking--”

“We’re talking about both,” Geralt said, turning around. “You’ve been listless. Since Lettenhove. It’s like traveling with a ghost.”

Jaskier gaped at him. “I have not been listless . I’ve been acting just the same--we argue, I perform, we fuck, all of which takes enthusiasm , thank you--are you saying traveling with me has been boring ?”

Geralt shook his head. “The only time you argue now is when you want to go on dangerous contracts. When you’re on those contracts, you are underfoot and in the way, as if you want to get hurt. You’ve so narrowly missed so many--” he cut himself off with a frustrated groan, and swiped his hand roughly across his stubble. “Your performances have been less . I don’t know how to explain it. You get this far-off look on your face and you’re… dreamy, in a way. You go somewhere else.” He shook his head again, and leaned against the wall. “And when we fuck, you do the same thing. It’s a process, nothing more. You aren’t there with me.”

Jaskier listened to all this, growing more and more agitated. He turned away from Geralt abruptly, his face pinching in his frustration. The worst part was that he couldn’t even argue against it. “I don’t see what any of that has to do with what you’re doing,” Jaskier grumbled.

“I’m looking for Yennefer.”

Jaskier’s mouth went dry. Of course. Of course Geralt was looking for Yennefer. Jaskier had made the mistake of thinking his witcher had moved on from all that, that the years they had spent together accounted for more than whatever pull Geralt and Yennefer had developed in the few days they knew each other. Jaskier stood up from the bed, abruptly, and flitted about the room, gathering his things. He was in such a frenzy he didn’t even notice Geralt moving toward him until Geralt had grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing ?” Geralt asked, his voice breathy in his exasperation as he pulled Jaskier to a stop.

“I’m leaving . Clearly if you want other company so badly--”

“That’s not what I--”

“Far be it for me to stop you--”

“Jaskier, would you just--”

“I just thought maybe I was important enough that you wouldn’t have dragged me along as consolation--”

“Jaskier, shut up .”

Jaskier’s mouth closed with an audible click that was more Jaskier’s doing than the curse. The look he gave Geralt was so murderous, it must have made Jaskier’s very skin boil with how quickly Geralt let go of him. His hands went up, as if he was trying to convince Jaskier he meant no harm.

“Shit, Jask, I’m sorry, I didn’t-- Talk freely,” Geralt said.

Jaskier took a deep breath. “What do you want to say, then, Geralt?” he asked. He stepped out of Geralt’s reach, just to show he could. Jaskier had some control here.

“I’m looking for Yennefer to help you,” Geralt started, and Jaskier rolled his eyes. “She might know something about how to break this. Give us somewhere to start. You’re not… yourself. I wanted her to help us find a direction to break this for you.”

There was so much earnestness in Geralt’s face. The corner of his eyes pinched, his mouth made a thin line, and his hands were held out in front of him, palms up. He was struggling, Jaskier realized, and trying hard to find the right words. Whatever had been wrong with Jaskier these past few weeks, Geralt had noticed. Geralt had noticed that Jaskier felt a little dimmer, a little more hopeless, a little more resigned to this being the rest of his life, and miserable because of it. He had noticed more than Jaskier did, and for that Jaskier found himself conflicted.

“So we’ve been going to every town so you can find her?” Jaskier finally asked.

He turned away from the weight of Geralt’s stare. He didn’t want this earnestness. He didn’t want to know that his curse mattered to someone else, to Geralt. It made the feelings he had been trying so hard to keep at arm’s length come closer, overtake him. Geralt wasn’t his. Even if Geralt had sought out Yennefer to help Jaskier, he still thought of Yennefer for help first . Jaskier returned to perch on the bed, feeling empty, just barely held together by the thought, He’s doing it for you .

“I’ve been asking around. No one had heard of her, until tonight. There’s a rumor of a sorceress that sounds like her in Yspaden, so we’ll head there.”

Jaskier gaped at him. He stared long enough that Geralt grew visibly uncomfortable, and took a step forward. Then another. Geralt lowered himself onto the bed and still Jaskier stared at him, until Geralt reached out a hand and tried to touch him.

“No,” Jaskier finally said, jerking away. Geralt’s hand froze, an eyebrow raised. “No, I’m not going to Yspaden.”

“Jaskier, be--”

“Be what, Geralt? Reasonable? No, I won’t. You heard Lazuli as well as I did. Her magic isn’t going to fix this, there’s no other direction. I have to find a way to break it, which if the past entirety of my life isn’t evidence enough that it cannot be broken, I don’t know what would be. But I would really rather not go on a quest to find your sexy sorceress. If you want to go, fine, I won’t stop you. But you will not tell me where I am going next.”

Geralt sighed, and tried to touch Jaskier again. Though Jaskier stayed rigid, he did not pull away this time. Geralt’s hand started on his shoulder, then slid down to his forearm, then tugged Jaskier’s hand out. He held Jaskier’s hand between both of his own, tracing his thumbs over the veins and lines. They were silent for a long time, and when Geralt finally spoke again his voice was soft.

“I’m not abandoning you,” he said. Already, it was too much, and Jaskier’s eyes slipped down to their hands, rather than Geralt’s face. “I don’t want to go without you, but I think seeing Yennefer is a good idea. You said you didn’t know what Lazuli meant. Maybe she does. Or she can point us in the direction of someone who can.” He cupped Jaskier’s cheek, then tilted his face back up, forcing Jaskier to meet his eye again. “Please, Jaskier. I want you to come to Yspaden with me. If she’s no help, I’ll leave off.”

Jaskier pursed his lips, his jaw going rigid as he considered Geralt for a long moment. Then he nodded, just barely, a small enough gesture that had Geralt not been holding his face, he might have missed it.

“Thank you,” Geralt murmured, and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to Jaskier’s lips.

It was too much, the way Geralt peppered Jaskier with soft, slow kisses. Jaskier felt like a raw, exposed nerve, and every gentle caress of his witcher against Jaskier’s body sent Jaskier ablaze with want, desire, and a blooming of affection Jaskier wanted so badly to dispel. How could Geralt hold him this way, as if Jaskier was precious to him? As if he didn’t know that Jaskier’s sun rose and set with Geralt?

Jaskier would follow Geralt off the edge of a cliff, if only Geralt promised he would take him there. And so, they journeyed to Yspaden. They camped and traversed and went at a breakneck pace. The closer they got, the more haggard Jaskier became, and he knew it wasn’t entirely because walking through the continent was grueling.

Geralt grew more hopeful, the closer they drew to the township. Jaskier tried to pretend it was out of hope for Jaskier. He knew it was because he felt himself drawing nearer and nearer to his sorceress. They would reunite, and Jaskier would be forgotten again.

read chapter 13

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier fanfiction #gerlion #my writing #i want you guys to know how much trouble i had JUST EDITING THIS TO POST ON TUMBLR #i am having a MORNING #but hoo boy next chapter y'all #lucky number 13

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smeraldos · 5 years

Text

blindside [pt. 3]

truth or lie: you can’t keep a secret.

go back [2] <

from the beginning [1] <<

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genres: angst, romance, simmering suspense

summary: You’re studying at Korea University and working part-time at Mint, Min Yoongi’s assorted art shop. That much Jeongguk knows. What he doesn’t won’t kill him.

hint: two bts members are indirectly mentioned in this chapter…comment if you think you can guess who 👀

a/n: shoutout to worldwide lovely/spicy fic writer @crystaljins for reading my draft! (more a/n at the end)

⌘

Halfway to the barbecue place for her sendoff party, Jiwon had taken a detour, promising you it would be quick. “What are you looking for?” you asked, following her into a clothing boutique.

“This,” she answered, showing you her phone. On her screen was a red puff-sleeved blouse adorned with small flowers.

“That’s cute.“

“I’d hope so,” she replied, flipping through a row of shirts. “It’s for my sister. She’s been whining about how Seoul has a lot more style than Jeonju. I mean, what’s the difference? They look pretty much the same to me.”

“Actually, they’re not,” you pointed out, putting back a red blouse with polka dots. “This is HQ material, of the highest quality.”

“Ah. I’m hopeless when it comes to this stuff.” She moved on to the next rack. “I just told her to study hard.”

“But if you’re getting this, wouldn’t she just bug you to buy something again?”

“That’s why I didn’t tell her. It’s just that…” Her voice trailed off. You turned to see her on tiptoe, straining to reach the blouse that matched what she’d shown you. It was on a higher rack, and because she was short, she could only grasp the hem.

When you tried, you didn’t fare much better.

“Excuse me,” Jiwon called out, catching the attention of a tall employee. “Can you help–”

“How much is this?” A woman farther off cut in, holding out a viridian dress. She soon gathered she’d interrupted Jiwon and apologized. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

To Jiwon’s surprise, the employee went to the woman first.

“Wait,” she protested as he walked past. “I–”

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said, barely half as sincere as he should have been. “She called me first, but I’ll get to you right after.”

You both watched him help the woman, who you now noticed was dressed in Hermès, a Chanel bag dangling carelessly off her arm. She was pretty in a haunting way: deliberately thin, more bone than she was skin. It was obvious why the employee had gone over to help her instead of Jiwon, who - despite looking cute in your opinion - didn’t appear wealthy or waiflike.

“Can you believe it?” Your co-worker fumed. “I saw him look at me first, and he–”

She marched over to said employee, but before she could reach him, you caught sight of the shoes on display.

“Hold on,” you said, rushing to grab the tallest, sturdiest pair of heels you could find. When you returned, you placed them in front of her. “Try these.”

“What?”

You met her puzzled look with an arched brow. “Don’t you have a blouse to get?”

⌘

When you and Jiwon arrived at the restaurant, Taehyung held the door open. Min was already inside, waiting in line to claim a number for a table.

91, you read from the slip of paper he flashed upon returning. The last number called had been 80, so you excused yourself to go to the restroom. Jiwon followed suit, but she didn’t go into a stall as you did. Instead, she stood in front of the sinks, gathering her messy curls into a high ponytail.

“So are you seeing someone?” She asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“Well…we’ve known each other for a while, haven’t we? I just never really got to know you.“

Though it was true, she’d never expressed an interest in your life outside of work. Not that you minded – you were trying to keep a low profile, so you hadn’t opened up to her, either.

“I’m not,” you said, stepping out to wash your hands. “I don’t have the time.”

"Then who–”

“Who what?”

“Nevermind.”

Through the mirror, you sent her a long, pointed look until she gave in. "I bumped into a guy on my weekend shift. He said he was looking for you.”

“And you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“It was just a guess. He was wearing that same necklace you have, and I’ve never seen it on anyone else.”

You weren’t wearing yours at the moment, but you knew what she was talking about - the amethyst pendant you wore strung on a thin, silver chain. Its twin was an emerald cut into the silhouette of a dog, the zodiac animal claiming the year of your birth, so you could see why Jiwon had mistaken it for a couple necklace. In truth, it was your brother’s.

You hadn’t seen him in a while, and to be honest, you preferred to keep it that way. Yet as Jiwon described his wiry profile and ready smile, you knew that would no longer be the case.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Just if I could tell you to check your phone. Then he left.” Jiwon turned to you. “So is he a friend? It seems like you know him, and he knows you enough to visit.”

Shrugging, you said, “I knew him since we were kids.”

“And here I thought childhood friendships didn’t last. You guys must be close.”

You hummed. It was as much a yes as it was a no.

⌘

It was late when you returned to your apartment – your small, spartan place on the sixth floor of the complex. Climbing up so many stairs at once was a feat, but you didn’t feel accomplished. All you felt now was burnt out.

You unlocked the door to reveal your sofa, plush and orange, and immediately went to lie down. It was your favorite spot to rest after a long day, and you’d have stayed that way if you hadn’t seen the post-it on your fridge. check lease exp. date, you’d jotted in a hurry. It was sometime this month, but the exact day escaped you.

You got up and went to your room, crouching beside your bed so you could slide a box out from underneath. Inside it were your important files – the last place people would look for valuables was where they normally stashed things that weren’t.

You flipped through papers until you found what you were looking for: a letter, creased, bearing the logo of your residence on its corner.

Hastily, you scanned it for a date. 4/15/17. Not good. That meant you only had a few days to renew your contract or find another place, and with the way your apartment hunt was going, you doubted you’d find a new one soon.

Neither could you afford to pay your bills for the next year.

Not for the first time, you considered applying for other jobs. You’d have to find a way to work around your current ones at Mint and a high-end restaurant, but that wasn’t an issue. You’d done it before.

How long they could keep you afloat was a different matter.

At that moment, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out to see a light blinking purple, a color that belonged to only two of your apps: a fantasy game and a burner app.

You couldn’t remember the last time you played.

As it was, you opened the burner to a new message from Pink Panther. Just two images, to be exact. One was of gleaming red shoes; the other, their price tag.

You looked at the tag first, thinking he’d wanted to draw your attention to it, but the price was nothing special. Standard, considering the luxury brand. It wasn’t until you zoomed in that you noticed an unusually long string of numbers below the barcode.

0b1010111100101011110000000

You knew binary code when you saw it. Pink Panther had made sure of it, although he used it sparingly, and only in subtle hints.

This one translated to 22,960,000. In won, that would be exactly what you needed to cover your security deposit and rent for a year. How he knew was beyond you.

But you could care less. You were desperate, and you needed to respond before the timed message disappeared. And with it, the promise of keeping your home.

where can i get them? You texted back, a veiled reference to the money. As soon as you did, the images vanished.

Nothing. That was all you got in response.

You waited a while, then gave up, resigning yourself to your hapless future when an ellipsis appeared.

💬

Then finally: mirae, my face isn’t a secret. you’ll know where to find me.

...

a/n: hugs and thank you’s to everyone who showed this fic a ‘lil love and/or boosted it! hope you’ve had fun and i’m very sorry to any who were waiting - i had a lot to figure out and i’ll do my best to get the next one out as soon as i can 💜

if you’re wondering where jk is, i really wanted to put him in this part but he’ll appear in the next chapter! thanks for reading and until then 🔍

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook au #bts au #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #jungkook fic #kim taehyung #min yoongi #bts #my fic

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thefirstcourtesan · 5 years

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In Another Life (Marc Antony x MC, Cassius x MC)

In Another LIfe By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine. Author’s Notes- I got a request for a fic where MC returns to Gaul and hears about Antony’s death years later. I knew it absolutely would not work for Portia or Moira, but I was intriuged. I had been planning on creating a third MC for Cassius and so this is the beginnings of her. This is now how I actually plan on her fate playing out, but it is one possibility. And it is my first chance to introduce you to Brighid of the Cimbri. Pairings- Marc Antony/MC, Cassius/MC Rating- PG-13 Words- 1116 Summary- Brighid receives news of a former lover, bringing back the memories of another life.

Tag list: @regina-and-happiness @thatcatlady0716 @acourtesanchoices @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @alegria1580 @spicycandycorn @annyvil@griffinsbigdickenergy @imaginatus @thechoicesvita @aprincessofgaul @claudevonstruke @itlivesinbox5 @bacchantony @sofiakenobi @bizzyschoices @owleyes374 @tephy24 @indiacater @reynoldswoodcock @straightouttacordonia @cordonianwaltz @wughhumans @topsyturvy-dream @ritachacha @ladyoftherings @is-a-courtesan-of-rome-back-yet @nikkisha16 @acorisabsolutegodtier

Through the open door of the hut, I heard a word that always made me freeze.

Rome.

It was a word that had held many meaning over my life, including once, briefly, home. But now, it meant caution. It reminded me of who I was and all I had to lose.

I immediately stepped outside, the baby on my hip, and found the source of the sound. There was a stranger, one who had that Roman look about him, speaking to my husband. “Did I hear that you bring news from Rome?” I asked the stranger, stepping towards them.

He looked from me to my husband, trying to decide if he should deliver the news to a mere woman. Romans.

“She is chief of the Cimbri,” my husband told the man, “not I.”

The man looked surprised and then impressed, before nodding, “of course, no disrespect. The news is from Egypt, not Rome. Marc Antony has been defeated. They say he has taken his own life.”

I froze. The words echoing around in my head over and over. Marc Antony was dead.

But it was not the news of the Roman general that stunned me, but the death of a man.

Antony.

I saw him so clearly, stretched out on his bed in all his naked glory, a smirk on his face as he drew me to him for another kiss. The adoration in his eyes, hidden breath that air of self-satisfaction.

Then the picture shifted to the last time I had seen him, all affection wiped out by sheer fury.

“Because I am a foolish bastard who needs to believe there was some truth in your lies, I am giving you the option to go. Leave Rome. Just make it so I never have to see your deceitful face again.”

And I had. I had left Rome and returned to Gaul, gathering what was left of my family and tribe and starting over. It was not an easy life. Gaul was not free and while the Cimbri had some freedom, we were always very aware of the limits of that freedom and what we owed Rome.

Just like I could never forget what I owed Rome.

And one man.

A man who was now gone.

“Brighid?”

I realized that my husband and the stranger were both staring at me and I wondered how long I had been standing there, lost in memories.

“I… I need to check on something in the fields,” I excused, handing the baby to my husband, who took him wordlessly, his face sympathetic. He knew my history, knew who I had been in the years I had been away from Gaul, including what the name Antony meant.

I’m sure the stranger was confused, but I didn’t care. I just needed air. I walked until I was out of sight of the village, alone in the trees and then I let the tears come.

I had come here in this same state once before when the news had reached me of Cassius’s death. Of how he had taken his own life after facing defeat at Antony’s hands. Cassius who I had also once loved. But not enough.

Not enough to survive the hold Antony had held over me sexually. I’d loved Cassius but I’d burned for Antony. In the end, I had lost them both.

And so I left Rome, married a nice man and concentrated on rebuilding my tribe and forgetting the years I had ever been anything but Gaul. And now, so many years after I’d lost their affections, I’d lost them both again.

Antony was dead.

I didn’t know who I was crying for. Certainly not the man who had died in Egypt, lover of a foreign queen. I didn’t know that man, so why would I mourn him? And the man I had known was gone long before this. Yet, the tears came anyway.

Tears for Antony, for Cassius, for all that Rome had taken from me and then given back. For the small part of me, that still longed for the luxuries of Rome even though I was back where I belonged.

The skies opened up then as if the gods had sensed my grief and wanted to partake in it. The rain soaked me to the bone, the droplets mixing with my tears until I could no longer tell them apart. Finally, there were no tears left and I realized how I would appear to anyone who came across me, the chief of Cimbri drenched, her eyes red with tears. Not exactly a look that would command respect. Especially if anyone knew those tears were for a dead Roman.

I took a deep breath, running a ran through my hair, which was a wet mess. I had cried all I was going to. There was still a pain in my heart, just like there had been when I’d learned of Cassius’s fate, but… It had nothing to do with who I was today. That pain belonged to a different Brighid.

Because whatever it was Antony and I had had… It had been in a different life for both of us. I was the Chief of the Cimbri, and he, he… had attempted ultimate power and paid the price. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The kind of man Antony was, the way he had lived, it could have only ended like this.

And I had more pressing concerns. Antony’s death would mean a change in power and that could be dangerous for Gaul, for the Cimbri. We would have to watch carefully what came from Rome, keep our heads down and hope the Gods favored us for once.

It was with that thought in mind, I returned home. The rain was still pouring, so everyone was inside. My husband stood when I entered, the baby still in his arms, the rest of the children scattered around the hut.

“Are you…..” He began, obviously taking in my appearance.

I cut him off with a smile, “I’ll be fine. It is the future we need to worry about, not the past.”

He nodded, letting it go. It was one of the reasons I married him, he knew who I was, who I had been and he accepted it and just offered unquestioning support. He was kind and gentle and most of all, he could never have the power to destroy me.

Only two men had had that power and now they were both dead.

But I was still alive. I had survived loving them, survived losing them and now I would survive in a world without either of them in it. Because it was what I did.

End

#playchoices fanfic #a courtesan of rome #marc antony x mc #cassius x mc

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edogawatranslations · 5 years

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Danganronpa Kirigiri (3) - Chapter 3, Part 1

Table of Contents | Previous: Chapter 2, Part 4

Chapter 3 - The Palace of Twelve Locked Rooms

Dusk had already fallen by the time we made it back to my dorm around six in the evening.

While walking to my room, we passed by one of my hallmates. The sight of Kyoko sleeping on my back and the boy in the vest tagging along behind us caused her eyes to shoot wide open.

“Yui...” she said with a look of concern. “You’ve been hanging out with a strange crowd recently.”

“You saw nothing.”

After entering my room, I lay Kyoko down onto my bed and let her sleep. Those ghastly marks remained visible on her white neck, a painful reminder she had been moments removed from death. I felt sorry for her.

Lico took a curious glance around.

“Huh... I’ve never been in a girl’s dorm room before.”

“Don’t let your eyes wander.” I quickly kicked some clothes and underwear that had been scattered on the floor under my bed. “Take a seat.”

“Okay.” With a smile, Lico sat down on his knees.

“There are a bajillion things I wanna ask you once Kyoko wakes up... But I gotta know: are you really Rei Mikagami?”

“If by that, you’re asking if there are people in this world who refer to me by that name, then the answer is yes. I do not recall my actual name. I mentioned earlier that both of my parents died when I was young; my earliest memories were at an orphanage.”

“Then what about the Rei Mikagami registered with the Detective Library?”

“That would be me.”

“So you’re really a triple-zero class detective? That’s incredible, you know. Are you aware of that?”

“Of course. That’s why the whole world is hunting me down, after all.”

“How old are you?”

“Twelve, I think?”

“Huh? Something doesn’t add up... When did you first register with the Detective Library?”

“Probably when I was around seven or so. There was a case I couldn’t solve without a Detective Library ID card, so I registered.”

“A seven-year-old kid managed to rank up to a triple-zero class detective in the span of only five years?”

“Technically speaking, I reached that status when I was maybe around nine.”

Sitting before me was the quintessential genius. His skill was far beyond that of other detectives who might languish for three years before ranking up for the first time, not to mention those who perpetrated and solved their own crimes to rank up six times.

Since Rei Mikagami was promoted to triple-zero class in such a short period after registering with the Library, the Crime Victims’ Salvation Committee likely didn’t have enough time to determine his identity. It also didn’t hurt that he seemed to excel at laying low, thwarting the attempts of those who sought to track his movements.

“Every single one of the cases I’ve solved under the name Rei Mikagami has been archived into my file at the Library. I wonder, who has been watching me, and from where?”

“I bet Committee members keep a close eye on you at their watch parties.”

“The Committee has nothing to do with it.”

“Huh? But aren’t the Detective Library and the Committee secretly connected?”

“Nope. Not in the slightest.”

“No way, that can’t be true. No matter how you think about it...”

“The Detective Library has strictly adhered to its founding ideals—to serve as a database with no will of its own. By eschewing the influence of any and all organizations, it guarantees its status as a neutral institution for all registered detectives.”

“I’m saying, what if all of that is just lip service?”

“...I wonder.” Lico flashed a smile and tilted his head.

“Hmph. You don’t care one bit about this, do you? It’s written all over your face.”

“Heh. I’m sorry, but the Detective Library doesn’t interest me,” Lico said with a childish smile. “However, I can say with the utmost confidence that no reciprocal relationship exists between the Committee and the Library. If anything, the Committee has unilaterally been using the Library.”

“...Really?”

“Consider this. If the same group controlled both the Committee and the Library, isn’t it odd that the file of their leader, Mikado Shinsen, was deleted from the archive? No other detective received the same treatment.”[3]

“Isn’t that because they don’t want his file to be available for everyone to access? If I were leading a criminal organization, I wouldn’t want my info out in the open; it’d be detrimental.”

“I think differently. If they could freely adjust their ranks and falsify their files however they desired, why would they intentionally draw attention to their leader by only deleting his file?”

“You have a point there...”

“The evidence suggests the Committee has no influence over detectives’ ranks or anything listed in individual files. In fact, I don’t think the Committee ever even considered trying to reign over the Library. Duel Noirs are considered fair gambles, so it is essential for the summoned detective to be ranked by a neutral organization. With that in mind, you could say that the activities of the Committee necessitate the complete neutrality of the Library. I doubt their audience would approve of match fixing.”

The audience for Duel Noirs likely took pleasure in witnessing real crimes unfold before their very eyes. Of course, however, some of the theatrics had to be prepared in advance.

“But, they specifically summoned me as the detective for the current challenge. How is that fair?”

“It’s not exactly unfair to designate a specific detective, as long as their rank is commensurate with the cost range.”

“I’m still not convinced; just look at these!”

I slapped the twelve challenge cards onto the floor.

“If Ryuuzouji is betting his retirement over this game, it’s a cheap price,” Lico commented. “His worth as a detective far outweighs being determined by these twelve scraps of paper.”

“...So you support him.”

“I hold him in high esteem.”

“Whose side are you on? The Committee’s? Or mine?”

“That sounds like something you’d ask a date,” Lico blushed, likely imagining being in a relationship. But I was fully aware of the deadly poison lurking beneath his smile. I was fearful of the fact that it was so easy to be entranced by his projected innocence.

“Well, I trust you’re not an enemy.”

“I’m glad to have your trust,” Lico replied with a genuine-looking smile.

Despite being a triple-zero class detective, he didn’t boast of his achievements, instead devoting his time to solving mysteries that interested him. But that begged the question: Why choose to work as an assistant to Ryuuzouji in the place most closely connected with the Committee? There was so much about him I found puzzling, and to get to the bottom of it, I thought of countless things I wanted to ask.

As I pondered where to begin my interrogation, Kyoko awoke with a groan and sat up in my bed. A painful-sounding cough followed.

“Kyoko, are you okay?” I asked. “Here, drink some water. Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine... I’ll be okay,” Kyoko answered with a raspy voice, before chugging a bottle of water. It wasn’t just her throat; her entire body had taken a beating. Even so, she tried to pretend like nothing was wrong.

I worried that continuing to express my concern for her would hurt her pride, so I decided to move on with the conversation.

“You woke up at the right time; I’ve just started to question this kid,” I said, pointing at the boy sitting straight up on the floor. “You won’t believe it, but he’s Rei Mikagami.”

“Indeed,” Kyoko said nonchalantly, scratching her throat.

“What, you knew?”

“I had a sneaking suspicion. You only introduced me to him as a friend, but he somehow knew my name without it being mentioned.”

“I could have learned about you at Ryuuzouji’s place, you know?” Lico shot back with a smile.

“Then you should’ve been more surprised to see me. Ryuuzouji and the Committee have been trying their hardest to locate me, so my appearance at the station would've come as a shock. Regardless, any notion of you being a normal kid vanished after seeing how you handled those assassins.”

“With the way things were headed, I couldn’t keep things a secret. It may sound like an excuse, but I had every intention of revealing my identity to you after dealing with the assassins, I swear.”

“Uh huh.” I eyed Lico suspiciously. “Why are you even working at Ryuuzouji’s place?”

“Unless I constantly surround myself with the mysterious, I’ll shrivel up into ash and die,” Lico said with a soft smile.

But behind that smile, there was a certain earnestness that couldn’t be laughed off.

“That is why I decided to infiltrate Ryuuzouji’s castle, in pursuit of the world’s greatest mysteries. While I have solved many mysteries up until now, the quality of them has been suffocatingly low.”

“You sure have a taste for luxury.”

“I have come to realize that a lifestyle journeying around the world suits me better than one lingering in a fixed place. I’m certain that somewhere on this earth, the ‘something mysterious’ I’m seeking is awaiting me.”

Lico sounded like a boy with great aspirations for summer vacation.

He belonged to a different breed of detective, one made up of those who wholeheartedly devoted themselves to chasing after mysteries. Unlike detectives who served to protect something or save others, he was free to move and act without restraint.

“Does Ryuuzouji know you’re Rei Mikagami?”

“I don’t think he knew when he first hired me. He might have had faint suspicions about my identity up until yesterday, but following today’s events, I’m sure his beliefs have cemented into certainty.”

“Why? Was Ryuuzouji watching you from somewhere?”

“No. I suspect at least one of the assassins was hired by Ryuuzouji himself,” Lico said with a straight face.

“R-Really? Why would he do that?”

“To kill me—just kidding. More likely to confirm my identity as Rei Mikagami. Since all of the assassins survived, they will inevitably report back to Ryuuzouji.”

“Then Ryuuzouji must have been the one who leaked the information that Rei Mikagami was going to appear at Meyura Station,” Kyoko said, adjusting her posture on the edge of the bed.

“W-Wait a sec. What’s the big deal? Why would Ryuuzouji go to such lengths?”

Kyoko stared coldly at my frantic expression, before beginning to explain. “All of it was planned out from the very start. First, Ryuuzouji leaked false information to send his hired assassins to Meyura Station, keeping the truth hidden from them. At the same time, he challenged you to an unfair Duel Noir, engineering a situation where you would have no choice but to head to the station. In doing so, he gained a reason to send Lico—your assistant in the game—to the station as well. Naturally, Lico and the assassins would encounter each other there.”

“You lost me. So you’re saying these twelve challenges were designed as a trap to expose Rei Mikagami’s identity?”

With that understanding, the decision game Ryuuzouji forced me to play took on a new meaning. It was a test to confirm that I was someone who would never dirty my hands: someone who would stop Rei Mikagami from silencing the assassins when the time came.

“I realize why he kept me so close to him as a trusted assistant, despite only having worked for him for half a year. He wanted me by his side so he could uncover my identity,” Lico reasoned.

“Geez, we’ve all been played because of you. I can’t believe all of this was just a ploy to flush out Rei Mikagami. Well, at least I can rest easy knowing that these Duel Noir cards are all phonies,” I sighed in relief.

“On the contrary, the fact that they are not is evident of Ryuuzouji’s true, frightening nature,” Lico shrugged. “The cards aren’t phonies—they’re real. That’s one reason why Ryuuzouji is known as a genius of parallel thinking and multitasking; he can seamlessly weave multiple plans into one.”

“Wait, so the Duel Noir is actually going on right now?”

“Yep.”

It was impossible to wrap my head around it all.

How many different plots did Ryuuzouji have planned out? He didn’t have to move an inch from his headquarters; the press of a button was enough to set everything into motion. This was how daunting it felt to be facing off against an armchair detective.

“The Duel Noir has only just begun. There’s plenty of time,” Lico said with a smile.

161 hours remained. That seemed like a lot, but it also felt severely lacking.

“On that note, are you aware of the contents of the Duel Noir this time?” Kyoko asked Lico with a piercing look.

Lico shook his head. “Normally, Ryuuzouji forbade me from entering his room. Hypothetically speaking, even if I did get the chance to watch him work, since he always multitasked on many different tasks at once, I wouldn’t be able to identify what, if anything, was related to a Duel Noir—”

“You would.”

“Hmm?”

“Someone like you is more than capable of identifying such a thing.”

“...You think so?” Lico tilted his head, playing dumb.

“Tell us the truth,” I pressed. “Whose side are you on?”

“I don’t know myself,” Lico shrugged, throwing his hands up.

“What don’t you know? Is there even anything in this world that you don’t know?”

“Left or right, A or B, friend or foe—I cannot understand why humans are always so obsessed with dichotomizing everything, nor why they seek to define themselves as being tied to one side or the other. Wouldn’t either side be fine? Think about how many conflicts throughout history could have been prevented if the issues hadn’t been framed as black and white...”

“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s no time for your philosophical ramblings. Lico, I need your help. You understand that much, don’t you?”

“You need me?”

“Yeah. Please, lend us your skills.”

“On one condition.”

“One condition...? Fine, what is it?”

“Kiss me.”

[3] (TN: At the end of Volume 1, Yui and Kyoko visit the Detective Library, where Yui tells Kyoko the rumors about there being a fourth triple-zero class detective whose file was erased. At the end of Volume 2, Yui and Kyoko receive a call from Kyoko’s grandfather, who reveals to them that Mikado Shinsen was a former triple-zero class detective. Lico confirms this information here.)

Next: Chapter 3, Part 2

#dr kirigiri #danganronpa #danganronpa kirigiri #kirigiri #translation #novel #light novel

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