#also my cat has been screaming to go out for the last half hour despite knowing FULL WELL she's not allowed out

[transboykirito]

kazuto and anti-hero, meta lyric analysis featuring me crying

i'm literally crying to this song as i write this so let's see how this goes. it's him, y'all. it is.

here's the song (the music video is a masterpiece)

i have this thing where i get older but just never wiser,

this is basically saying "i don't learn my lessons, i keep making immature mistakes and i don't know how to grow up". it reminds me of the scene in war of underworld where kazuto revisits the moments of his past, with the perspective of a few years. it also reminds me of the scene in the fairy dance arc where he says he's going to give up and accept reality, because it was immature to think he could overcome the system just because he wanted to.

midnights become my afternoons

this lyric refers to staying up all night, working yourself late into the night overthinking

when my depression works the graveyard shift all of the people i've ghosted stand there in the room

"when i stay up all night in self-loathing and regret and worry and depression, i think about all of the people i left in my past" basically. it obviously puts me in mind of the scene in war of underworld that i mentioned before, looking back on his past in his darkest hour, and the moment where asuna, suguha, shino and eugeo appear as "ghosts".

i made a gifset of this lyric with that scene.

it especially resonates with his relationship with suguha, in my opinion. he ignored her for years and did pretty irreparable damage to their relationship (even they admit it, no matter how close they become now, the years they spent apart have done damage). he regretted it for so long, and he spent so much time in aincrad hating himself for it.

in a cruel irony, he keeps finding reminders of her in that world, when she's out of reach - agatha, silica, even sachi to a degree. when he's already overthinking everything and in crisis, it's like she's a ghost in the room haunting him with his guilt and regret.

i should not be left to my own devices, they come with prices and vices, i end up in crisis

kazuto is someone who, surprisingly, doesn't do well when he's alone. in fact, most of the times when we see him isolate himself, he's doing it to punish himself, like when the black cats died and he swore off guilds and people because he didn't protect them, or when he and suguha fight and he shuts himself away from her because he hurt her again. the last time kazuto is "alone" (despite alice), he tries to kill himself. that's a crisis. this lyric essentially says "when i'm alone i end up overthinking and i end up going down self-destructive and detrimental paths".

tale as old as time

this is part of the last lyric, but. it's a tongue-in-cheek, minorly sarcastic jab at the narrator (taylor swift, kazuto kirigaya, etc. the person narrating the lyrics, you get the idea) saying "i've been doing this (the self-destruction) forever, i always do it and i've come to expect it, so has everyone around me".

this tone carries through most, if not all of the song. the narrator is tired of themself, and they can feel everyone around them growing tired of them too. it's self-aware and self-deprecating, confessional and open with just a hint of sarcastic predictability.

i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i'll watch as you're leaving, 'cause you got tired of my scheming for the last time

the obvious parallel first, "i wake screaming from dreaming one day i'll watch as you're leaving" is kazuto so many times through the series. he struggles with ptsd, obviously, and we see him struggle with imposter syndome and feelings of inadequacy, especially involving feeling like he isn't good enough for the people he loves, and that he'll fail to protect them.

so, for the second half of this lyric, it actually just reminds me of that sarcasm and self-awareness i mentioned earlier. the original intention of the lyric is closer to "i plan everything meticulously and i need to have the upper hand in every situation to protect myself" which i think kazuto would relate to to some extent, but... for him specifically i think of it more referring to his little habits and pranks and impulsive behaviour, asking "how far do i have to push it before this annoys you too much and you get tired and leave?"

everyone knows kazuto as being a lovable pain in the ass. off the top of my head i can think of asuna and eugeo chiding him for beinf distracted and reckless, the water gag he pulls on suguha, when he bites leafa, the way he takes jokes at klein and agil, etc. how long can he keep all that up before they get tired and leave?

it's me, hi. i'm the problem, it's me.

it's a very self-explanatory lyric. kazuto feels like he's the problem a lot. he gets himself into shit and then he ends up accidentally dragging everyone else into it too.

at teatime, everybody agrees

this one i just LOVE because it's literally not true. but the narrator feels like it is. it's only really touched on briefly, but kazuto has felt like everyone around him think he's the problem in their lives. suguha and their parents, asuna (especially around the fairy dance arc), shino, eugeo and alice.

we see him decide to take the death gun project all alone, without telling anyone what he's doing, because he doesn't want to worry them. he's afraid of suguha and asuna finding out because he doesn't want to get them involved too.

it just... it reminds me of that imposter syndome again. he feels like everyone is disappointed by kazuto because they want kirito instead.

i'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

so i personally have two interpretations of this lyric, and the one i'll be using for this post is "i'll do something that's going to hurt me because i'm overly ambitious and think i can't be hurt, but i'll never look at myself and adress the root causes of my behaviour. i'll just distract myself and burn myself to avoid having to change, even though i have to."

kazuto wants to be the hero. if someone needs help, he'll help them, even if it's detrimental to him, even if it nearly kills him. he plays the part of the hero, the invincible black swordsman who can rescue the princess and save the world.

and he knows that doesn't match who he really is. he knows he can't keep reaching for "the sun" (being a hero) because it's weighing down on him too much. he knows he needs to step back and work on himself, who he is as a person, as kazuto rather than as kirito. he hates feeling like he has to constantly live up to those standards or risk disappointing everyone, but he does it anyway, because it's easier than admitting out loud that he feels inadequate.

it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

this lyric refers to the narrator's fear that the people around them are bored of them and tired of their bad habits. the narrator thinks it must be exhausting trying to cheer for them when everyone knows they're constantly fighting an uphill battle with themself.

i mean... see above. kazuto feels like everyone wants kirito. suguha sees him struggling in fairy dance and phantom bullet, he admits all his ptsd and insecurities to shino in phantom bullet, eugeo sees him struggle practically daily, asuna sees him at all his lowest points. they see the damage that he does to himself, and yes, they love him and root for him anyway, but aren't they tired of it? aren't they tired of seeing someone they love destroy himself over and over? he gets there in the end, but he's so tired, and he thinks the ones he's closest to are tired of it too.

sometimes i feel like everybody is a sexy baby and i'm a monster on the hill, too big to hang out, slowly lurching towards your favourite city

the sexy baby lyric is good end of discussion that isn't what we're here for. this lyric pretty much just says "i feel like i'm too much to handle and feel like an outcast from everyone around me"

kazuto feels like he as a whole complete, complex person, is too big and too much to handle. asuna and eugeo are really the only people he lets see everything, he pulls himself back around almost everyone else.

"slowly lurching towards your favourite city" is essentially just the narrator saying "i'm a monster who destroys everything and i'm going to destroy the things you love most if you stay around me" which. kazuto.

pierced through the heart but never killed

"i've been absolutely heartbroken and i kept going". again, it reminds me of the scene from war of underworld where kazuto literally rips his own heart out. he tried, he wanted to... but he's never killed. he has to keep going with this wound in his chest (heartbreak, anxiety, depression, etc) that hurts, but it doesn't finish the job.

did you hear my covert narcissism i disguise as altruism like some kind of congressman?

one of the most kazuto kirigaya lyrics of all time imho.

the lyric basically asks "do you notice how many of this nice things i do so that way people tell me i'm doing a good job and praise me for being nice?"

kazuto plays the hero. he goes out of his way to save people, to protect people, to be the knight in shining armour. he does so many good things... and he wants it to be recognised. he wants people to think of him as a hero. especially suguha and asuna.

but then... do they notice? do people notice how hard he's trying to play into that hero role? does eugeo notice when he starts wanting to save everybody? does asuna notice when he says he just wants to run away together?

it's such a loaded lyric and i'm not doing this parallel justice, just please. it's him.

i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i'll watch as you're leaving, and life will lose all it's meaning for the last time

eugeo. this is him about eugeo. and also asuna. and sachi. when he lost them, his life lost everything.

when sachi died, he just kept aimlessly fighting with little sense of purpose. when he lost eugeo, he tried to kill himself because he couldn't bare to go on anymore.

when he thought asuna died, he literally says he lost his reason to do anything. "fighting in this virtual world, returning to the real world, continuing on with my life - it was all meaningless."

i have this dream, my daughter-in-law kills me for the money, she thinks i left them in the will

okay so this lyric is like... A Lot, it's pretty much saying "i'm scared that all i am to people is what i have and not who i am". also worth noting she specifies daughter-in-law, its someone she had no control over entering her life, and they only did it to get her money.

in the context of kazuto... i don't think it's about money, exactly. for kazuto it would likely be something more to do with notoriety or infamy. it kinda reminds me of eiji and their battle for the top spot in ordinal scale, or vassago's obsession with him, or his duel with kayaba, etc.

the family gathers round and reads it and then someone screams out, "she's laughing up at us from hell!"

so, in the music video, taylor leaves her children 13 cents each, and everything else goes to her cats. then a fight breaks out at the funeral and she watches in disgust and horror that she didn't really mean anything to these people (even her own family)

kazuto has mentioned before that he would sell his soul to the devil to protect the people he loves. trying to think of this lyric for him just makes me think of him waking up from his coma in the underworld and fighting vassago. because... like... if that wasn't him metaphorically laughing at him from hell idk what else would fit here.

it's me, hi, i'm the problem, it's me. everybody agrees, everybody agrees.

the narrator is tired of themself. the s in the final "agrees" is drawn out to sound like a snake hissing, implying the narrator feels that someone around them will grow tired of rooting for them and instead turn on them because they would know every weak point.

kirito vs eugeo s32. that's all i have to say.

anyway... this song just reminds me of kazuto so much, and a few lyrics put me in mind of some other sao characters too (eugeo, asuna, leafa, sinon, mito, bercouli, quinella, oberon) but yeah. it's like, 5:39 in the morning and i've been awake since 3am yesterday so sorry if this is like. a mess.

thanks if you read this much, sorry i force you all to read taylor swift lore on my sao blog <3

[captainjonnitkessler]

How is that not denying your place withing western Christian society though? We live in a culturally Christian society, I don't think it's particularly reasonable to expect people not to acknowledge that reality, even if you no longer identify and are put off by being called that, it doesn't change the reality that Christianity is the dominant religion in the west and has tainted all of our lives, especially those of us raised with it. How else is that meant to be discussed and addressed when there is a very clear influence even amongst secularly raised people in western societies? It's part of the fabric of our societies in the west, opting out of the religion doesn't divorce us from our Christian roots and those things Do need to be acknowledged , unpacked and considered, even if being referred to that way makes you personally uncomfortable

Discussing cultural Christianity in the West is a very important conversation that we should have, I'm not trying to deny that. My problem is that this website, in my experience, almost never uses "cultural Christianity" to actually examine Christian supremacy in the West, and instead uses it almost exclusively to a) insult "reddit atheists" and b) shut down any criticism of religion. There's a few problems I have with the way it's used on this site:

1.) It is, ironically, incredibly Western/Christian centric and often denies the experiences of non-Christian religious people. I've seen multiple non-American, non-Christian people get dogpiled for criticizing *their own religion* by people telling them that they're just "cultural Christians" who "shouldn't say 'religion' when you mean 'Christianity'", under the apparent belief that using bigotry and abuse to gain and maintain power is exclusive to Christianity. And people often cite black-and-white thinking, thinking people who don't agree with you are going to suffer in some way, thinking that your religion or way of life is objectively superior, etc. as "cultural Christianity" - but none of that is in any way exclusive to Christians and honestly has very little to do with religion at all. That's just called being a dick, and anyone of any religion can do it.

2.) It is always, almost without exception, used as an accusation leveled at atheists specifically, as though atheists are the only people who internalize stuff about their culture. It's true that people will internalize some Christian teachings if they live in a majority-Christian culture! But that's not exclusive to atheists at all, or to Christian cultures. *Everyone*, of every culture, has some shit to unpack, and it's weird to act like that's exclusive to American atheists. Especially since most ex-Christian atheists became atheists *because* they started unpacking the thinking they'd grown up with!

I've got a post about the cultural pressure to celebrate Christmas (a great example of cultural Christianity that actively harms people) that several Jewish people have commented on saying that they got pressured to celebrate from *other Jewish people*. But nobody would consider calling them "cultural Christians", and rightfully so because:

3.) You shouldn't force labels on people. Calling someone a cultural Christian is *still calling them a Christian*, which most non-Christians aren't really comfortable with. I know it seems like nitpicking between calling someone a "cultural Christian" vs. something like "influenced by cultural Christianity", but if you wouldn't call an American Jew or Muslim a "cultural Christian", you shouldn't call an atheist that either. We're not Christian, full stop.

My last post was inspired by a particular post I saw where someone said they didn't like being called a Christian because they'd suffered religious abuse, and a bunch of blogs dogpiled them to VERY condescendingly tell them that well actually, they ARE still basically Christian like it or not, and therefore need to unpack a laundry list of views that had literally nothing to do with Christianity and which I'm pretty positive the OP doesn't hold. Which is, uh. A super fucked up thing to say to a religious abuse survivor. So I was a little hot going into that post.

TL;DR: Yes, we should talk about cultural Christianity and yes, if you see an argument that you think stems directly from cultural Christianity you should call it out as such. You should NOT call anyone you generally disagree with a "cultural Christian", nor should you act like having to unpack bigoted or outdated ideals is something only (ex) Christians have to do and need to be reminded of at every available opportunity.

[qqueenofhades]

Do you really hate this county? Or were you just ranting?

Sigh. I debated whether or not to answer this, since I usually keep the real-life/politics/depressing current events to a relative minimum on this blog, except when I really can't avoid ranting about it. But I have some things to get off my chest, it seems, and you did ask. So.

The thing is, any American with a single modicum of genuine historical consciousness knows that despite all the triumphalist mythology about Pulling Up By Our Bootstraps and the American Dream and etc, this country was founded and built on the massive and systematic exploitation and extermination of Black and Indigenous people. And now, when we are barely (400 years later!!!) getting to a point of acknowledging that in a widespread way, oh my god the screaming. I'm so sick of the American right wing I could spit for so many reasons, not least of which is the increasingly reductive and reactive attempts to put the genie back in the bottle and set up hysterical boogeymen about how Teaching Your Children Critical Race Theory is the end of all things. They have forfeited all pretense of being a real governing party; remember how their only platform at the 2020 RNC was "support whatever Trump says?" They have devolved to the point where the cruelty IS the point, to everyone who doesn't fit the nakedly white supremacist mold. They don't have anything to do aside from attempt to usher in actual, literal, dictionary-definition-of-fascism and sponsor armed revolts against the peaceful transfer of power.

That is fucking exhausting to be aware of all the time, especially with the knowledge that if we miss a single election cycle -- which is exceptionally easy to do with the way the Democratic electorate needs to be wooed and courted and herded like cats every single time, rather than just getting their asses to the polls and voting to keep Nazis out of office -- they will be right back in power again. If Manchin and Sinema don't get over their poseur pearl-clutching and either nuke the filibuster or carve out an exception for voting rights, the John Lewis Voting Rights Act is never going to get passed, no matter how many boilerplate appeals the Democratic leadership makes on Twitter. In which case, the 2022 midterms are going to give us Kevin McCarthy, Speaker of the House (I threw up in my mouth a little typing that) and right back to the Mitch McConnell Obstruction Power Hour in the Senate. The Online Left (TM) will then blame the Democrats for not doing more to stop them. These are, of course, the same people who refused to vote for Hillary Clinton out of precious moral purity reasons in 2016, handed the election to Trump, and now like to complain when the Trump-stacked Supreme Court reliably churns out terrible decisions. Gee, it's almost like elections have consequences!!

Aside from my exasperation with the death-cult right-wing fascists and the Online Left (TM), I am sick and tired of how forty years of "trickle-down" Reaganomics has created a world where billionaires can just fly to space for the fun of it, while the rest of America (and the world) is even more sick, poor, overheated, economically deprived, and unable to survive the biggest public health crisis in a century, even if half the elected leadership wasn't actively trying to sabotage it. Did you know that half of American workers can't even afford a one-bedroom apartment? Plus the obvious scandal that is race relations, health care, paid leave, the education system (or lack thereof), etc etc. I'm so tired of this America Is The Greatest Country in the World mindless jingoistic catchphrasing. We are an empire in the late stages of collapse and it's not going to be pretty for anyone. We have been poisoned on sociopathic-libertarian-selfishness-disguised-as-Freedom ideology for so long that that's all there is left. We have become a country of idiots who believe everything their idiot friends post on social media, but in a very real sense, it's not directly those individuals' fault. How could they, when they have been very deliberately cultivated into that mindset and stripped of critical thinking skills, to serve a noxious combination of money, power, and ideology?

I am tired of the fact that I have become so drained of empathy that when I see news about more people who refused to get the vaccine predictably dying of COVID, my reaction is "eh, whatever, they kind of deserved it." I KNOW that is not a good mindset to have, and I am doing my best to maintain my personal attempts to be kind to those I meet and to do my small part to make the world better. I know these are human beings who believed what they were told by people that they (for whatever reason) thought knew better than them, and that they are part of someone's family, they had loved ones, etc. But I just can't summon up the will to give a single damn about them (I'm keeping a bingo card of right-wing anti-vax radio hosts who die of COVID and every time it's like, "Alexa, play Another One Bites The Dust.") The course that the pandemic took in 21st-century America was not preordained or inevitable. It was (and continues to be) drastically mismanaged for cynical political reasons, and the legacy of the Former Guy continues to poison any attempts to bring it under control or convince people to get a goddamn vaccine. We now have over 100,000 patients hospitalized with COVID across the country -- more than last summer, when the vaccines weren't available.

I have been open about my fury about the devaluation of the humanities and other critical thinking skills, about the fact that as an academic in this field, my chances of getting a full-time job for which I have trained extensively and acquired a specialist PhD are... very low. I am tired of the fact that Americans have been encouraged to believe whatever bullshit they fucking please, regardless of whether it is remotely true, and told that any attempt to correct them is "anti-freedom." I am tired of how little the education system functions in a useful way at all -- not necessarily due to the fault of teachers, who have to work with what they're given, and who are basically heroes struggling stubbornly along in a profession that actively hates them, but because of relentless under-funding, political interference, and furious attempts, as discussed above, to keep white America safely in the dark about its actual history. I am tired of the fact that grade school education basically relies on passing the right standardized tests, the end. I am tired of the implication that the truth is too scary or "un-American" to handle. I am tired. Tired.

I know as well that "America" is not synonymous in all cases with "capitalist imperialist white-supremacist corporate death cult." This is still the most diverse country in the world. "America" is not just rich white middle-aged Republicans. "America" involves a ton of people of color, women, LGBTQ people, Muslims, Jews, Christians of good will (I have a whole other rant on how American Christianity as a whole has yielded all pretense of being any sort of a principled moral opposition), white allies, etc etc. all trying to make a better world. The blue, highly vaccinated, Biden-winning states and counties are leading the economic recovery and enacting all kinds of progressive-wishlist dream policies. We DID get rid of the Orange One via the electoral process and avert fascism at the ballot box, which is almost unheard-of, historically speaking. But because, as also discussed above, certain elements of the Democratic electorate need to fall in love with a candidate every single time or threaten to withhold their vote to punish the rest of the country for not being Progressive Enough, these gains are constantly fragile and at risk of being undone in the next electoral cycle. Yes, the existing system is a crock of shit. But it's what we've got right now, and the other alternative is open fascism, which we all got a terrifying taste of over the last four years. I don't know about you, but I really don't want to go back.

So... I don't know. I don't know if that stacks up to hate. I do hate almost everything about what this country currently is, structurally speaking, but I recognize that is not identical with the many people who still live here and are trying to do their best, including my friends, family, and myself. I am exhausted by the fact that as an older millennial, I am expected to survive multiple cataclysmic economic crashes, a planet that is literally boiling alive, a barely functional political system run on black cash, lies, and xenophobia, a total lack of critical thinking skills, renewed assaults on women/queer people/POC/etc, and somehow feel like I'm confident or prepared for the future. Not all these problems are only America's fault alone. The West as a whole bears huge responsibility for the current clusterfuck that the world is in, for many reasons, and so do some non-Western countries. But there is no denying that many of these problems have ultimate American roots. See how the ongoing fad for right-wing authoritarian strongmen around the world has them modeling themselves openly on Trump (like Brazil's lunatic president, Jair Bolsonaro, who talks all the time about how Trump is his political role model). See what's going on in Afghanistan right now. Etc. etc.

Anyway. I am very, very tired. There you have it.

[x-infernhoes-x]

She’s My Collar- Basilio x Reader

Title: She’s My Collar

Genre: Romance, Smut, Porn with Plot

Warning(s): Mentions of Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Implied Consent, Basilio nearly murdering someone because they spoke badly about you

Description: KAI IF YOU’RE READING THIS, THIS ONE’S FOR YOU AND ALL OF YOU BASILIO SIMPS 

NOTE SOMETIME AROUND 3:00 AM YESTERDAY NAWALA YUNG ORIGINAL PUTANG INA I WAS THIS CLOSE ON FINISHING IT SHDJGFHJBDKJBSEDVGSJHGBKHGSFKJBGBKJGBJGLJBGWL  AN HOUR’S WORTH OF WRITING G O N E AND I HAD TO REWRITE EVERYTHING I AM STRESSED AND DSBJKGBKJFSDGNB SO ENJOY.

4:31 AM NOTE UPDATE YESTERDAY: langya ayoko na. matutulog na nga ako, sakit na ng likod ko.

6:50 PM NOTE TODAY: I’M GOING TO FINISH THIS BEFORE MIDNIGHT COMES. ALSO, DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS!!

12:10 AM NOTE TODAY: The note above this one is a lie. I managed to continue this after family night lmao but enjoy still. Tried my best to make it gender-neutral as possible but yeah :’) I kinda failed successfully I think???

  You and Basilio have been dating for quite some time now. Although he was a messy guy you made sure that you had his back and helped him out to work on how to keep his sloppy tendencies at bay and in turn he would shower you with love and affection that you would usually get from the demi-god of war. Basilio was the perfect guy, he was a sweet lad who made your lonely days better, he made sure that you were cared for in any shape or form and he always had your back in everything and he would give you anything you would ask for in the world. The two of you barely even fought and if you were to fight, it would be more of a joke one than an all-out screaming match. He was the best thing that has ever happened to you and you constantly thank Bathala for it and Basilio thought the same. The two of you were a match made in heaven.

 Although despite your busy schedules keeping the two of you apart, you both made sure that you and your loving boyfriend would get the chance to hang out together. Often, you and Basilio would frequent the Diabolical together, just basking in each other's presence, tucked away in some booth Hank had reserved for the two of you, or sitting by the bar just chatting about each other’s day. You could recall Hank telling you that whenever you were around or that when someone ever mentions your name, Basilio seemed to calm down and would eagerly listen into whatever conversation had said your name. There was a time where Basilio nearly knocked someone’s teeth out because they were talking badly of you and it took Crispin, Maliksi, Hannah, Amie, Alex, and Hank himself to hold back the younger twin and prevent him from punching someone’s lights or teeth out or even prevent a murder from ever happening.

 “Alam mo, (Y/N) pag naririnig ni Basilio na dadaan ka rito, parang siyang aso na di mapakali. Kulang nalang na magkaroon siya ng buntot e.” Hank joked as he was cleaning the freshly washed glass, watching Basilio flush red, face buried into his forearm as he groaned in response while you let out a small chuckle.

 Now looking back, that memory seemed to be far away from you. Tonight happened to be your anniversary with Basilio and instead of a cozy night in, he wanted to do something different.  Basilio wanted to take you out dancing and bar hopping around Bonifacio Global City’s luxurious bars (sometimes you wondered to yourself how the hell can Basilio afford this.) and maybe take you sight seeing around the place when you got the time. Pacing around your living room in your apartment, you were about to shoot him a text message when a knock at your door had interrupted you from doing so, nearly dropping your phone in the process. “Sandali  lang!” you yelled to whoever was outside the door. If there was one thing you learned from dating Basilio, it was being vigilant. You had to make sure that the person on the other side of your door was your boyfriend and not some kind of Aswang or any malicious person who had a personal grudge against the twins and Alex. Taking a peek at the pee hole your door had, you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend, Basilio grinning up at you as he waved. Instead of wearing his suit, Basilio was in his casual clothing for tonight, his long silken locks pulled back in a half-up, half-down man-bun.

 Opening the door, you then welcomed him with open arms before proceeding to smack him playfully on his arm, an amused smirk on your lips as you opened your mouth to speak, your tone light and teasing, “Took you long enough! Siguro na-traffic ka no?” Basilio could only roll his dark eyes at you as he placed a loving kiss upon your head. “Hindi a, si Kuya Crispin kasi e, sobrang tagal niya sa banyo kaya ayun.” Pulling himself away from you, he then offered his arm for you to take with a grin, his head tilting towards the direction of the door as he spoke, “So ano? Tara na?” “Siyempre naman.”  

 After making sure your apartment was locked, the two of you went down towards the direction of the parking lot and took a couple few selfies inside the elevator, you and Basilio were off. While in the car, the both of you would scream along to the lyrics of Ang Huling El Bimbo by Eraserheads while in traffic. On your way to BGC, both of you were surprised to see Maliksi and his significant by the stoplight, taking the advantage of the long-ass stop to chat with the Prince of the Tikbalangs and his fiancé. Your conversation was cut short when the stoplight had changed from red to green, saying your goodbyes to each other as Basilio drove away to your very first destination, which was none other than XYLO at The Palace.

  In all honesty, you’ve heard about this bar but it was the first time you got to enter the place itself. The both of you got lucky that the place wasn’t as packed and that you got there early before the actual party had started. Both you and Basilio then made your way over to the bar to grab your first drinks of the night. The two of you chatted for a while, occasionally nodding your heads to the beat of the song. After a while, the night seemed to kick in and both of you were already at what seemed to be your 3rd or 4th bar of the night, this time you and Basilio were jumping up and down to DJ Khalid’s song ‘All I Do Is Win’ before the both of you screamed along with the rest of the patrons, “Putang Ina, Alak Pa!”  and time seemed to flow faster than ever as you and your loving boyfriend went in and about around BGC’s classiest bars, downing every single drink you two could manage and take or even dance along to the songs the bars provided while occasionally sharing a kiss here and there, not minding the reek of alcohol and sweat clinging on each other’s bodies as the two of you laughed.

 Sometime around 10:30, you and Basilio were shitfaced to oblivion but both of you were used to it. You had lost count on how many drinks you’ve managed to down yet you and Basilio couldn’t care less, you were certain that you heard your phones ring but you two never got the chance to answer them because Basilio was busy doing body shots on you or you making out with your boyfriend in some hidden corner of the bar. You were starting to get the hint that after your little make-out session at Club Haze, he was focused on one thing and you knew what that meant, despite being inebriated out of your wits. So what do you do? Put on a show for him of course.

 You knew Basilio was sitting by the bar because you told him you were going to use the bathroom to freshen up a little bit since the club felt a little bit humid. What he didn’t expect was you sashaying over to where the dance floor, the last notes of Nelly Furtado’s Maneater fading away only to be replaced by Doja Cat’s Streets. To you, the sound seemed to have slowed down and you weren’t sure because it was the alcohol’s effects taking over, nobody else in the club mattered but your boyfriend alone.  The figures around you seemed to blur and Basilio was the only one you had your eyes on as your body moved to the beat, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted, and even from afar, you could see your demi-god of a boyfriend shuffle in his seat, his cheeks brightly flushed even under the lights of the dark club (yes, Basilio even tried to hide his raging boner from everyone but he was failing miserably). You knew that he was watching you closely like a predator ready to strike and even from afar you can tell that he was getting impatient with your games and that made you smirk. You knew that Basilio had a thing for Semi-Public sex and your several other experiences with him were proof of that, hell the two of you almost got caught one time and you were internally thankful that you weren’t. But tonight, Basilio’s going to abide by the rules of your own game and not his.

The opening bass beat from Beyonce’s Yonce/Partition was your cue to take things up a notch by making your way over to the bar where you had stood upon the counter (you had asked the bartender and the rest of the patrons who hung around the bar save for Basilio in advance and they seemed to agree with it just as long as you were careful) and made your way down the counter, hips sashaying and your body with every beat and drop before stopping to where he was, a smirk on your face, your hands running up from your thighs and right past your chest in a sensual manner, leaning in just so you could ghost your lips over Basilio’s eagerly waiting ones before pulling away with a wink. Once your little show was done and you had gone down from your counter with the help of the bartender you had just spoken to before making your way over to the dance floor once more to dance just as your song, She’s My Collar by Gorillaz began to play only to be caught short when you felt a hand grab you by the wrist.

Despite being drunk you were still smart and quick to retaliate towards whoever had grabbed you only to be surprised to be looking right directly at your boyfriend’s dark obsidian gaze, his breath slow and ragged and you knew you were in it for real this time the moment he said, “We’re leaving.” In a tone, you’ve never heard from him before and that seemed to send shivers and chills up your spine as he dragged you away from the bar to head right outside.

Honestly, the whole trip back to the car seemed to pass you by like a blur, you would occasionally stumble on your own feet, which prompted Basilio to sling you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a sack of potatoes (at least it gave you a perfect view of his ass). The moment you arrived at your car, however, you were thrown haphazardly into the backseat after Basilio had unlocked the door with ease and then entered the vehicle as well, quickly pulling you up on his lap where he locked his lips with you in a heated kiss, hands roaming around your body with such need and you could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his dark jeans. You were surprised at first but once the initial shock and surprise had worn off, you kissed him back as well with the same passion and need that he emulated from his kiss, your fingers and hands made a quick undo of his man-bun and top, hastily unbuttoning them, eager to touch the skin underneath it and leave marks on it. Basilio could only groan in response to your touches, his tongue exploring your mouth like uncharted territory, his hands groping your behind with such force that made you moan out his name, a quiet hiss of “Tangina.” Soon followed your surprise.

 In your mayhem of desire and lust, you didn’t notice Basilio play Chase Atlantic’s song Devilish on the radio.

 Clothes were thrown around and about in the space of the car and in that blur of clothing being discarded around, you were honestly surprised when Basilio had lifted up your lower half towards him, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach and thighs before his head disappeared in between your legs, bestowing you the best oral you’ve ever had received from him in your years of dating. You couldn’t thrash around with him holding you so tightly against his face as he went down on you but your hands were free to roam and tug at his long silken locks, his name spoken like a prayer  and just as you were about to reach your peak, he had pulled away from you, a sadistic yet innocent smirk placed upon his now glistening chin and lips coated in your slick as he spoke, “Not yet, babe.”  Winking at you, he gingerly set you down before he leaned over to where his now discarded jeans were as he pulled out his wallet, fishing out a condom and a small pack of lube for him to use. Once the foil was open and the rubber was on his already hard dick, he then proceeded to open the pack of lube, rubbing it on his length before instructing you to get on your hands and your ass up for him.

 And by Bathala you began to see stars the moment he had entered you. Your nails seemed to dig on the dark leather surface of the car’s upholstery, your back arched to the extreme and you were certain that you could feel Basilio trailing kisses along the expanse of your neck, shoulders, and back, his hands guiding you on his length while yours snaked around to reach for him, tilting your head sidewards to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, his manhood still relentless at fucking you senseless and in between the thrusts and moans, you were thankful that the windows were tinted from the outside or else the two of you would’ve been caught. Throughout the whole night, you two spent it by doing it on every single surface inside the car, doing every single position the two of you could think of, taking each other to new heights with every pose the two of you did, and yes, let’s just say you were sore the morning after that.

 Once the morning came around, the two of you were still naked and you were sure that after your last round with your loving boyfriend, you felt the waves of your hang-over wash over you like a wave, making you groan out in pain. Everything was sore with you and your body was littered with hickies, bruises, and scratch marks while Basilio, who had his healing factor with him thanks to his demi-god status, was relatively unscathed but he did have some hickies of his own to present to the world. Shuffling, you gently nudged Basilio awake as you spoke, “Babe, anong oras na??”

 At your action, your boyfriend, still groggy from sleep, could only groan at this, his hand reaching out to search for his mobile phone to check the time. Squinting, he then saw the time on his phone but the color on his face seemed to drain the moment he saw several missed calls and messages from his twin brother and the Babaylan-Mandirigma herself. “SHIT!” Basilio managed to cry out of sheer panic, his head accidentally hitting against the roof of the car, making him hiss even more, hands holding the spot where he had hit his head. “Lagot tayo kay Bossing, (Y/N), kagabi pa niya tayo tinatwagan kasama ni Kuya Crispin.” At the mere mention of Alex and Crispin’s name, you seemed to understand the sense of urgency before the two of you began to clean up the car, dressing up as you did so, attempting to make yourselves look more presentable and cover the tracks from yesterday’s events. Once done, Basilio was driving like a speeding madman in a rush to head back where his brother and Alex were at.

 It took him at least an hour to arrive at their destination with Alex taking the role as today’s designated driver while Basilio sat in the back with his brother. “San ba kayo galing? Kagabi pa namin kayo tinatawagan ni Crispin, (Y/N), Basilio. Ano ba nangyare, ha?” Alex spoke, her eyes flickering over to where Basilio was, sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he spoke, “Sensya na ho, Bossing. Nag-sight seeing kasi kami ni (Y/N) kagabi tas nag-bar hoping kami tas pagkatapos nakatulog kami dito sa kotse.” A little doubtful of this, Alex could only glance at you from the corner of her eye, expecting for you to react but you held your emotions close to your heart as you spoke, “Totoo po yung sinasabi ni Basilio, bossing. Di po naming sadya na di kayo replyan ni Crispin. Di na po mauulit.” Nodding, Alex then excused the both of you and the car ride was silent, save for the fact that the radio was playing Last Friday Night by Katy Perry. You did feel a little bit cold however and you couldn’t help the fact that something was missing until Crispin screamed out in surprise, horror, and disgust, finally noticing the thing you were missing. Ah shit. “TANGINA BASILIO, ANO TO!?!?!” Crispin managed to yell out, holding up your lace underwear for everyone in the car to see with Basilio quickly snatching the piece of clothing away from his brother, tucking it in his pocket before he responded, “ANONG-ANO KA DIYAN KUYA!?! WALA KANG NAKITA!!”

You silently prayed to Bathala for him to forgive you but you were sure as hell Alex won’t. You made a mental note to not ever do it in the car you guys use for missions ever again.

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

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Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

[l4verq]

fight back | b.b

bucky barnes x enhanced!reader

in which bucky won’t lay a hand on you no matter what :(

tags : a little brawl, fluff cause icanthelpmyself, mentions of blood, john walker (idk if we're supposed to like him now ??) bucky is a cat lady okk

fic : one shot

a/n : inspired by that scene in the final ep of tfatws when karli is screaming at sam to fight back lol😳

|| gif by @unearthlydust ||

-

one world, one people.

you repeat it in your head one more time, when he comes into view, vibranium gleaming onyx with loops of gold.

you know that he knows you’re here, back to the wall a few feet away, peeking at him.

he doesn’t know that you let him know.

doesn’t know that you laid out a trap and just like the foolish mouse, he walked right into the lion’s den.

although you’re not sure who the fool actually is, when you meet his eyes, knees almost buckling at the sight just cause of how long it’s been without them.

“y/n.” he breathes out, almost in disbelief.

it’s been fourteen months since he woke up to an empty bed and a handwritten goodbye letter folded in a clean white envelope, tucked under a pillow still marked by the soft indentation of your head.

fourteen months since you took off in the dead of night, pulling your- his hood over your head, the cold wind nipping at your skin, almost like it was punishing you.

maybe, it saw what you did.

oh, but fred definitely saw what you did, that damn cat always followed you two around even though it’s owner was the blonde next door. her name wasn’t even fred, bucky came up with it after the third time it snuck into the apartment.

he swore he hated it but always seemed to have a treat lying around in case it did come.

and it did, a lot. neglected by it’s owner, it chose to seek comfort in the couple next door, and sometimes a meal or two.

“sorry, no treat today bub.”

fred scowled - honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if an actual human was living in it - mewling as it came up to you for the usual chin rubs and cooes.

you sighed, caving into it’s antics, squatting to pet it.

cradling it’s head into your palm, she was purring, a very uncommon sight. fred doesn’t purr, she scratches and hisses at anything and everything that moves.

“you’re particularly nice today.” you commented, getting up. it mewled even louder this time but you turned on your heels and headed for the stairs.

you were already late.

your legs picked up pace quickly, easily crossing multiple blocks over in a few long strides owing to the blue serum coursing through your veins.

though your mind remained stationary, fixated on a single face, how it’d crumble at the sight of the letter, how he’d probably end up hating you.

“took you long enough.”

her auburn locks were tied into a loose braid that curved around her neck, the tip sat just below her collarbone, a piss poor job held together by a thin maroon colored band.

it was quintessentially her, the lack of utter patience to spend two minutes looping three knots of hair one over the other.

you jogged over to the other side of the black suv, noticing a stark white rectangle where a liscence plate should be.

“he’s knocked out cold,” you asked as soon as you grabbed the door handle open, “how?”

lazropthalein.

it came in the mail in a brown package, no return address. bucky wasn’t home, he had a scheduled therapy session down the block.

just a pinch is enough.

the text from the unknown number read.

it had no odour, a clean, white colour to it that blended in seamlessly with the flour.

“you baked without me?” bucky gasped, dramatically, hand covering his gaping mouth. his other hand carried two plastic bags, filled to the brim, a purple razor was poking out the top.

he even had to drop the poor bags on the floor, just to emphasize the utter shock he felt.

“i got bored.” you giggled, wiping the countertop with a wet cloth, remnants of flour on the sleek marble turning goopy under it.

“traitor.”

“it’s just cupcakes.”

“still a cake.”

you sighed, “you’re a five year old.”

he huffed, trudging towards the living room, shoulders hunched to really hone in on just how devastating this was for him.

“don’t i get a hug?” you held your arms out, making grabby hands, following him.

apparently, the devastation was to the point where he had to bring out the big guns, the sad baby blues.

the act lasted for another minute? at best. hours later, he was happily munching away.

“i know why it tastes so good.” he moaned, smacking his lips.

your smile faltered a little, did he kn- no, there’s no way he could have known. you burned that little plastic bag as soon as you dumped a pinch in.

“yea?”

he grinned, popping the last bit left in “it was made with your love.”

“how did it work?” your voice rose several octaves higher, amplified further by the cool, silent night.

drugs and sedatives don’t work on supersoldiers yet a certain blue eyed one was back home, unmoving even if you screamed right into his ears.

“dr wilfred, he invented it. the power broker wanted something to balance out our,” she flared her hands at both of you, “super-soldierness, so that we don’t have an upper hand when all’s said and done.”

would the either of you even be alive when all was said and done?

“look, i know you didn’t want to do this but james, he won’t understand. he’s not one o-..”

“yea, can we jus- let’s just get out of here.” you get in beside her, whipping the seatbelt over your torso.

the car was stuffy, felt like a choke around your neck that only seemed to tighten more and more.

“if we go now, there’s no coming back.” she glances at you, hand curled over the gearstick ready to position it in place.

she was giving you an out, one last chance. karli was a lot of things and having a heart inside that cold, bitchy exterior was one.

“i know.”

you sunk deeper into your seat, the hoodie had a faint smell of burnt toast and that cologne which was on sale, almost half off if you cut out the taxes.

it smelled like him, too much like him.

until it didn’t after a few days. but you still slept with it, just outright refusing to wash it despite karli’s snarky remarks about hygiene.

hygiene could go fuck herself, for all you know.

compared to the motels and basements you guys shifted around in, that hoodie was a doctor’s scrubs.

when the moon hung low on the black sky, you tried not to think about him too much. the silence didn’t help, you needed something to drown out your thoughts. that’s when the ‘socialising’ with the other flag smashers started. they were nice.

nice cause you were the leader’s little sister. but also a huge fucking liability because of a certain supersoldier hot on their heels in search of you, ruining every goddamn plan so their niceness was.. limited.

karli was a natural when it came to it, all of it. the talking, rallying of supporters - fuck, she just had a way with words. she could make you believe she hung up the stars in the sky.

probably how she convinced you that holding a room chock full of council members hostage right smack in the middle of nyc was a good idea.

the only idea, more precisely.

you guys had the upper hand, more than a handful supersoldiers at your disposal, capable of taking down the entire military force if you so pleased.

the only playing card they had was one supersoldier, who was better off distracted, kept off the field.

so who better to send to do the deed than the love of his life.

“fred had a baby. multiple babies, spawn of the devil if you ask me. always running around, thrashing the place up.” he takes small steps towards you, slow and calculated, as if a lion stalking around a prey.

“you shouldn’t be here.” you lie through your teeth, a tiny white compared to the ones that’ve rolled off your tongue before.

“i think the neighbours call me a cat lady now,” his eyes shift around and he leans in to whisper, “they haven’t even seen my knitting skills yet.”

“stop.” you think you said it or much rather whispered it, your voice was failing you. he’s getting close, too close for your liking so why aren’t you backing away from him?

“fred misses you, you know. she wonders where you went.” he smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

the hairs on your neck shoot up, a slight twitch of your brow. the way bucky’s ear perk up, you realise it’s not just you and him here anymore.

someone else has arrived.

“i’ve got it handled, john.” bucky turns around, plants him directly infront of you, blocking john’s view of you.

sure enough, it’s john limping in, a nasty gash across his chest.

your blood runs cold because this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

john isn’t supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be fighting.. oh god. you notice the various splatters of blood on his cowl, on his boot, on his shield.

it’s too much blood from a guy who’s barely bleeding.

“really? i was thinking you should do more than just talk.” he spits on the ground and wipes his mouth.

you notice, the spit’s all blood too.

“i’m giving you a chance to walk away, right now.”

john snorts, leaning sideways to get a view of you, neck craned out.

“and leave this prize all to yourself?” he grins, “i’d be an idiot.”

“you have a death wish then.” you lift your chin a little higher, praying your quickening heartbeat doesn’t give away your calm exterior.

john whistles, grimacing as he straightens, “so, she does talk.”

you scowl, crossing your arms.

he’s in bad shape. he has no chance, not that he ever did even in his best shape. he knows that too yet he’s still here. that sends a chill up your spine.

“go, i got this.” bucky tips his head, glancing at you.

“i don’t need you to save me.” you hiss at him, which comes out a little harsher than you intended. an apology dies in your throat as he flinches just the slightest.

“trouble in paradise?” john’s barely finished saying it before he’s reached behind his back and swinging the vibranium

you hear it before you see it stopped mid air by a gloved hand. then you charge.

it’s all a hazy mix of blue and red until your fist connects with his jaw, sound of something breaking ringing in your ear.

something pulls your waist back, a grip far too strong to be just flesh.

“go, i’ll ta-..” bucky’s barely said anything before an upward cut from john connects to his neck, violent coughs ensuing.

you grip john’s arm before he’s even retracted it back, jump up his back, settling around his neck and twist until you hear a crack and a bloodcurling scream following suit.

he whips his head back right into your stomach, seizes that moment when the wind knocks out of you to pull you by your hair off him.

“i told you to go.” bucky growls, kicking john right in the shin that makes him kneel and you almost fall off but you keep your fingers tightly looped around john’s hair, pulling as hard you can.

but he’s relentless.

your head hits something hard and you realise you’re on the ground now, legs loosely around john’s shoulders, him also on the ground.

it’s like the both of you realise at the same time but you’re quicker. your legs tighten around his neck, against the spot where a thick neck muscle throbs. he claws desperately around, straining for oxygen

soon, his hands lull down, the dull thud on the ground confirming his unconsciousness.

“are you hurt?” bucky’s hovering over you, seemingly unfazed by john’s neck in a chokehold by your legs right now.

you reject his hand he extends and push yourself off the gravelly concrete on to your feet.

“this was a mistake.” you trail off, saying it more to your own self.

you weren’t the lion, you were the stupid fox who thought it was.

stupid enough to believe you were over bucky and that everything wouldn’t come rushing back as soon as you laid eyes on him.

he whips you around by your hand and before you know it, he’s already caught your other fist heading for his sternum. you barely feel the grip, it’s soft, just so incredibly soft and fits so right.

you hate it.

rage bubbles inside you, mostly at yourself. partly at him because he’s not screaming at you or slamming you against the wall or jus- anything.

you wrench your hand away, land a swing which he does nothing to block. his grip on your other hand loosens and he still does nothing when another hit to the jaw leaves him staggering,

instead, he looks at you softly as if resigning himself to your anger, to let it simmer off.

“fight back!” you scream, outstretched palms pushing him back.

he stumbles a few steps back, hands reaching out to yours resting on his chest, fingers intertwining yours tightly.

“stop.” it’s a soft plead, tears spiking the corners of his eyes.

“hit me!” you’re practically begging at this point, thrashing your arms around.

his hands grapple at your shoulders, bringing you to his chest, “it’s okay.”

he smells so sweet, just so sweet that you almost believe him.

“i drugged you and i left you and i-,” you inhale sharply, “i killed so many people, bucky.”

the last fourteen months had escalated quickly from doing what’s right to doing what’s needed, lines blurred between moral ethics and survival.

“it’s okay.” he repeats, hand patting your hair, gentle and soothing. your body betrays you, sinking into his touch, his warmth.

“you should hate me.” you whimper.

you wouldn’t blame him if he did. you doubt he could hate you more than you already did yourself.

he pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “i couldn’t if i tried.”

god, why does he have to be so.. bucky?

frustated, you spit out, “this? this was a distraction to separate you and sam.”

you don’t say it but it’s understood, understood that you wouldn’t have met him if not for it.

the inner corners of his brows angle up slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “i know.”

your breath hitches, if he knows then wh-

“then, why..?”

you finally look up at him, vision blurry because of the stupid tears pooling at your eyes.

his thumb wipes away a tear dribbling down your cheek, the coldness of the metal a clear contrast to the warm moisture, “you know why.”

-

a/n : this one’s been sitting pretty, collecting cobwebs in my drafts so thought i’d take it out lol, also haven’t been posting fics in a whileeee cause im dumb and i’ve been working on multiple things all at once lol yea this is me rambling and also i just wanna say that i. love. folklore. sm. that whole album has me crying and sad and just :((

[twotapbuz]

The leader and a body guard(Rin x reader)

(Sorry this took so long, school sucked all of my motivation away. You can find the rest of the series here: Eloni )

warning: violence, slight angst with a happy ending

Sometime after the rock revolution, Neon J decided to leave for a 3-week vacation

This meant that you and your coworkers would need to report to Rin

The first couple of days were difficult because Rin didn’t seem to care about the reports and would flirt with whoever was giving him the report

It wasn’t till week two that things began to spiral

1010 had been in the middle of a performance when a fight broke out in the crowd

You jumped out of where you were standing to help control the crowd

You assessed the damage after everything calmed down

The venue + stage was partially destroyed, Purl-Hew lost his glasses and an eye, Haym lost an arm, Zimelu and Eloni’s faces were cracked, and Rin was missing

Rin was missing

This was bad news as the factory still hadn’t been repaired yet which meant that he couldn’t be brought back until Neon J came back

And if Neon J found out that you lost a member of 1010, you and your co-workers would be fired

So your group split into two parts, one half would take Zimelu, Haym, Purl- Hew, and Eloni back to Barraca Mansion while the other half would search for Rin

You were placed into the latter

It had been nearly an hour since Rin was discovered missing and there still was no sign of him. You were definitely going to get fired. While the concert was in Cast Tech, you along with several others were sent to search Metro Division in case he simply went back to Baraca Mansion without telling anyone. You were about to head back when you heard the sound of crashing metal. 

“Hello, is anyone there?” You didn’t mean to say anything, but you were caught off guard. Against your better judgment, you began to walk towards that alley. You were desperate to find him after all.

“Stay back! RETREAT!” shouted a panicked autotuned voice. It was Rin.

“Rin? Is that you? Are you ok?” you rushed down the alley to find Rin hiding next to a dumpster.

“Don’t look at me!” Rin was trying to cover the right side of his face with his arm.

“What? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah! Do not worry about me, I’ll make it back fine,” Rin tried to stand up, still covering his face, but immediately fell back down because his leg was missing.

“Look… everyone’s worried about you and you won’t be able to make it back by yourself with that leg,” you gestured at Rin’s broken leg. Please let me help you, I know some shortcuts.” You offered your arm. Rin hesitantly lifted his hand for his face and grabbed your hand for support. The metal that covered the right side of her face was gone, revealing the damaged hardware underneath.

You involuntarily flinched, he may not have been human, but it was still pretty jarring to look at something that looked like a person who was missing part of their face. Rin also flinched, covering his missing face with both of his hands now.

“I’m so sorry about that”, you rubbed your neck, “I just… well I didn’t expect the injury to be that bad.”

“You aren’t going to scream, are you?

“What? No, I'm very sorry about that. Besides I’ve seen way worse” you joked, trying to release the tension. Rin hesitantly uncovered his face once again and grabbed your hand and pulled himself up. The two of you dodged the groups of people walking through Metro Divison.

As the two of you were walking through, you couldn’t help but wonder about Rin’s reaction when it suddenly hit you, 1010 got severely injured during the rock revolution. One of these injuries included all of them losing their faceplates. Their fans unsurprisingly freaked out which caused 1010 to explode due to some protocol Neon J must’ve implemented. Your heart sank when you realized Rin’s reaction wasn’t because he was worried about his image, but he was scared of you screaming and what would follow afterward.

——————

After that incident, Rin seemed to act differently towards you. He took you more seriously and listened to your reports

Even after Neón J came back, Rin still came to you for your reports

Probably just practice for when Neón j retires, you thought

As the weeks passed, the time spent on the casual chats you had increased to the point you’d forgot to give him the actual report several times

“And that’s how we got Quienne and Bebe.” Rin had just finished telling you the story of how they got their cats by Haym and Eloni smuggling them in through a box. This was one of many of the 'behind the scenes stories' that Rin had told you. While they didn’t act that much different when they weren’t on camera or in front of a crowd, it was nice to be trusted enough to hear about their personal lives.

“So what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any good stories? I don’t think it’s fair if I tell all of my secrets after all~.” Rin teased

“Well, I do have one. I was at a dance audition and waiting for my turn to perform and this dude that was performing was pretty much a circus act. He was doing all these frontflips and backflips and it was just crazy. Wish I had recorded it.”

“You used to be a performer? How come you stopped?” Rin curiously asked.

“Nah, I never made it past the first round of auditions. I didn't really mind since I only entered to support a friend.” You sipped on your coffee

“That’s a shame.” Rin paused for a moment. “You know I could always offer you lessons.”

 “that's really nice, but I’ll have to decline. No amount of practice can fix these two left feet.” You looked at the clock, realizing half an hour had passed. You quickly said your goodbye and left to avoid getting into trouble. Rin watched your back as he left, unsure why he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

——————

Rin was walking to his dressing room when he saw you walking alongside several other security staff. As rude as it sounded, Rin normally wouldn’t think twice about the people he worked with. Most staff would either quit from being harassed by crazy 1010 fans or get fired for secretly being 1010 fans who used the job to get access to 1010 content, or worse, 1010 themselves. Rin shuddered as memories of one of the many incidents came back. Rin could count on both of his hands the amount of current staff that has been working for over a year and you were one of them. Rin began to think about the early part of his career when he and his family would actively engage with the staff, talking about both of their personal lives and inviting them over to hang out in the mansion. He and his brothers stopped interacting with the staff after the high turnover started. What was the point of talking with them if they were going to quit and avoid 1010 like the plague or get fired and be avoided by 1010 like the plague. He was glad that he could talk to you. He also liked the sound of your voice and how your eyes sparkled brighter than the LEDs that lit up him and his brothers. Rin blushed at the last thoughts. The sound of your voice and the sparkle of your eyes? It’s not like he was in love with you or anything. He was technically your boss and your relationship was completely professional. Yeah, your interactions were one of his favorite parts of his day and your smile would always brighten his day, but even if he was in love with you(which he is not) there’s still the challenge of gaining the approval of his family and having to deal with his fan’s harassment. He couldn’t let you go through that. Though Rin couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to talk with you outside of work…even go on a couple dates… maybe he was in love afterall.

——————

You walked past Rin and smiled. Despite your attempts, you fell for Rin's charm just like his fans did and it took you no time to notice this. You knew you were never going to say anything, afterall, everyone knows the rule about not dating coworkers and Rin can choose practically anyone, why would he pick you?

——————

It was the first concert after the rock revolution

The fans were extra antsy due to the lack of content, so it was all hands on deck

You were positioned on the front of the stage

This concert was no different than the previous ones, 1010 were performing, a couple of their fans attempted to jump on the stage, and you could barely hear your own thoughts over the mix of music and cheering. Suddenly both of those stopped. You looked at the stage and so 1010 standing still in mid-performance. You were told about this situation during training: it was either a malfunction or a hacking. You prayed that it wasn’t the latter. 1010 suddenly began to move in sync, but it was different from their normal in sync movement. You saw two fans get tackled to the ground as a red saw blade passed them at what would’ve been chest height. Your radio buzzed loudly as you were given your new orders:

“Get everyone out of there.”

It was chaos as you rushed around to get everyone out of the venue. Those with superhuman abilities(pyrokinesis, levitation, etc) stayed behind to prevent 1010 from leaving the venue. Despite not having any abilities, you stayed behind too. You were running around in the back looking for anyone who still might be there when the rubble from an explosion behind you knocked you to the ground. You quickly got up and saw Rin towering over Neon J. Without thinking, you quickly grabbed a nearby pipe that came from the newly busted wall and smashed it over Rin’s head. This managed to stop his attack, but it also brought his attention to you. He suddenly ran towards you, grabbed you, and threw you against the wall. Your consciousness began to fade in and out as your head collided with the wall. You saw Rin approaching you, then darkness, Rin raising his arm to strike, darkness again, Rin being pulled away by Neón J, darkness again, the inside of an ambulance, and then nothing.

——————

You woke up in a hospital room. Your eyes scanned the room: on your right was a monitor accompanied by an IV drip. On your left was a small table with flowers, a get-well balloon, a couple cards, and a Rin with a worried face sitting on one of the chairs of the room. Rin noticed you were awake and quickly rushed before stopping unsure of what to do.

“Y/N” Rin said, unsure of what to do or say

“Rin”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry about what happened- I didn’t want to-I couldn’t stop- if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you-” Rin began to stutter out of guilt. He kept making sentences but giving up on them and starting new ones.

“Rin, please” Rin paused and looked at you. “It’s not your fault, I know you would never do this” the two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before you continued, “You know... if the offers still up… I’d be happy to accept those dance lessons when I get discharged." Rin began to smile

“Yeah, the offers still up”

——————

Neon J walked through the hospital’s halls. For the past two weeks, he had been personally escorting Rin to your hospital room. He knew Rin felt responsible for your injuries so he didn’t object to this despite the possible security risks(he couldn't keep his boys locked up). He had heard from Rin that you had woken up and he was glad that you were ok, but he had to cut your visitor time short due to an interview that all 1010 members must be present for. He walked into your room to find the two of you sleeping with Rin’s head on your lap. 

“It’ll be fine if Rin misses one interview.” Neon J thought as he closed the door. He also began to wonder how long it will be before Rin introduces you officially to the family.

[fanimesenseiwrites]

For Lucifer and Mammon and Beel how about: 1 moment that they assist MC when it comes to adjusting to Devildom or understanding something about it and 1 moment where MC does the same for them when they are in the human realm

Oh my god, this is such a great ask! Thank you for gracing my inbox with this! Unfortunately I could only think of stuff for in the Devildom so that's what I'm going to post, otherwise this will just sit in my drafts forever lol. If I ever come up with ideas for the human realm I'll write and post those too.

The brothers help MC out in the Devildom:

Lucifer:

"So... Diavolo's the only actual royalty, right?" MC asked, curiously.

"It's Lord Diavolo" Lucifer corrected them. "But yes. He is the only heir to the throne."

"Right, right, my bad. So where's the king?"

"He's asleep."

"Where?"

Lucifer sighed. "Why do you need to know?" He was already tired of all the questions, and he had a sneaking suspicion that MC had plenty more lined up.

"I'm just curious. Everything is new and strange to me."

"Well must you ask me all these questions?"

"I mean, I guess I don't have to ask you... I just thought you were the smartest out of all your brothers."

Lucifer allowed himself a small smirk at that stroke of his ego. "... what else do you want to know?"

MC grinned at him. "So I've heard you and your brothers be referred to as "rulers of hell" and sometimes "princes of hell" but if you aren't royalty...?"

Lucifer hummed as he thought about the best way to explain it. "Think of us as... nobility. Just as the British Monarchy up in the mortal realm gives noble titles to their heirs who would not take the throne, we have been awarded such titles by the king based on our strength."

MC nodded. "I see... I think I get it now. Thanks for answering my questions."

"You're welcome. Just be sure that your curiosity doesn't get you into trouble. You know what they say, "curiosity killed the cat," Lucifer's voice was just a little more threatening than it had previously been.

"But satisfaction brought it back," MC finished the quote, either not hearing the change in his tone or not caring.

Lucifer watched MC as they left his presence, and he just knew they were going to be a thorn in his side for the remainder of their stay.

Mammon:

MC was walking back to the House of Lamentation after extra study hours. They hadn't done so well on their last history test and they really needed to study so they could do better on the next one.

As MC walked home, they noticed a crow watching them and following them, but cautiously keeping their distance too.

MC smiled at the crow, then stopped and rummaged around in their backpack for something.

The crow watched them curiously.

MC pulled out a pack of crackers from their bag and broke a couple of them up and laid them on the ground before looking back at the crow.

"Those are for you."

The crow watched them cautiously as it slowly made its way to the crackers.

MC crouched down and watched the crow with a grin.

The crow ate some of the cracker and chittered happily.

"You're so cute," MC told the crow.

"Look at the loser human talking to a crow!" A passerby demon told his friend.

The crow squawked and flew away when the two new demons appeared.

MC sighed and stood up. "You didn't have to scare it."

"I wasn't trying to scare the crow."

The emphasis the demon put on crow scared MC, but they tried not to show it.

"Right... well, you two have a good night." MC started walking toward the house again.

The two demons jogged to catch up with MC and walked along either side of them.

"So where are you going all by yourself?" The demon who had scared the crow asked.

"I'm going to meet a friend, they're waiting for me a couple blocks up," MC lied, hoping their words would deter the pair of demons from doing anything to them.

The demon clucked their tongue. "You know, demons can tell when you're lying. I just heard your heart rate increase when you lied just now."

"And you absolutely reek of fear," the second demon spoke.

MC glanced between the two demons, now truly afraid for their life.

MC tried to run but the demons were far too quick for them.

They each grabbed one of MC's arms and the first one covered MC's mouth with his hand before they could scream. They dragged MC away from the road and into a secluded alley, before pinning them against a wall.

"Ya know, human flesh is a fun treat but the soul is where its at," the first demon spoke to the second.

"I agree, I guess we'll just have to share it," the second replied while grinning deviously at MC.

MC was so scared that they were shaking and tears were streaming from their eyes.

Suddenly, MC's attackers were pulled away from them and slammed into the wall opposite of them.

MC felt immediate relief at seeing that their rescuer had white hair.

Mammon growled harshly at the two demons, making sure they were well intimidated before asking, "What'dya think you're doing? Did ya really think the human exchange student was just walking around with no protection?"

"W-what are you going to do to us?" One of the demons asked.

Mammon hummed before tossing them to the ground. "Not shit."

"Really?" One of them asked as they got back to their feet.

"Yeah, I'ma just report ya to Lucifer and Lord Diavolo. They'll get more of a kick out of punishing ya than I will," Mammon told them as he rest his hands on his hips.

The pair of demons stared at him in horror.

Mammon fake lunged at them just to scare them. "Get outta here!"

The demons quickly ran away.

Mammon rolled his eyes and looked at MC. "Hey, are ya o-"

MC practically threw themself at Mammon, wrapping their arms around him in the process. "Thank you so much! I was so scared!" They sobbed.

"'Kay..." Mammon rubbed their back. "Calm down, everything's fine."

MC looked up at him. "How did you know I was in trouble?"

Mammon grinned before putting two fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly.

A crow flew down and landed on Mammon's shoulder.

"The crow!" MC cried happily.

Mammon reached up to pet its neck. "Yeah, they're my familiars. So that means I've always got an eye on ya!"

MC chuckled. "Well I guess that's a good thing."

"Yeah, but that don't mean you can be out walkin' around by yourself! Don't ever do that again! You call me to come get you next time, got it?!"

MC nodded.

"Good." Mammon grabbed their bookbag and threw it over his shoulder, the crow flew off when he did that. "C'mon, let's go home."

MC smiled slightly. "Okay."

They headed back to the House of Lamentation together, walking as close together as was comfortable.

Beelzebub:

MC sat in the cafeteria at RAD, and despite feeling hungry, they couldn't find the appetite they needed to eat the food in front of them.

Beel walked over and sat down next to them with his own tray of food.

MC looked up at him. "Hey Beel, do you want my lunch?"

Beel instantly perked up at the prospect of more food but frowned when they looked at MC's tray. "But you didn't even touch your food."

"Yeah, I'm not really hungry."

"... are you sick?" Beel tried to fathom the possibility of not being hungry.

"No... I just... I don't feel like I can eat this food. It's all so weird."

"Is it weird or just different?" Beel challenged.

"No, it's weird," MC told him flatly. "I mean half of the food has poison in the name and cheeses are aged for longer than I'll be alive and the scorpions are as big as lobsters! Also, who would eat a scorpion?!"

Beel frowned and almost pouted.

MC looked at him. "Oh shit, that was rude. I'm sorry..."

"... have you even tried a scorpion yet?" Beel asked tentatively.

"... no," MC admitted sheepishly.

"Well why don't you try it?"

"Can I eat it? Or will it kill me?"

Beel shook his head with a small grin. "Lord Diavolo adjusted the menu so nothing served here will kill humans."

MC nodded. "Well that's one less thing to worry about... but how do you eat the scorpion?"

"Some people like to eat exoskeleton, like me, but for those who don't they eat it like this." He snapped the tail off and sucked the meat out of it.

"Oh... that reminds me of eating a crawfish."

Beel nodded then cracked open the abdomen and pulled out the meat inside using a fork.

"Ya know, that actually makes a lot of sense."

"Now you try," Beel coaxed.

MC nodded and looked down at the scorpion on their plate, still feeling a little intimidated.

"You don't have to like it, just try it," Beel told them.

MC nodded and took a deep breath before snapping the tail off and sucking out the meat. "Hm... this is actually good."

Beel grinned. "I'm glad you think so."

With some encouragement and explanation from Beel, MC finished eating their lunch for the first time since they had arrived in the Devildom.

"Hey Beel?" MC asked as they walked to class after lunch was over.

"Hm?" Beel looked down at them.

"Could we go out after school today? I want to try more Devildom food with you."

Beel smiled at them. "I'd like that."

MC smiled back at him. "It's a date!"

[luimagines]

You React to Him Getting Sick/Injured Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

This one will included Wild, Legend and Warrior!

Content under the cut!

Wild

Wild came back to camp after hunting with questionable stains on his clothes. It was all over his wrists, all the way up to his elbows. It was all over his chest and it stained the entirety of his left leg. 

Out of curiosity, you poke him as he passes you and quickly retract your hand by how slimey it felt. He pauses at your touch and raises an eyebrow at your actions. “Yes?”

“What on this sweet Earth is that?” You wipe our finger off onto your shirt and try to get the last of the residue off.

Wild blinks and looks down to where you’ve poked. “Oh. I didn’t realize it was that bad. I ran into some chu chu’s. They explode when you kill them. It’s fine.”

“Ok.” You hide your grimace at the information and nod. “Well, you might want to get that cleaned. ...Before it actually stains your clothes and all that.”

“Will do.” He grins and continues through the camp.

You bite your tongue at how the stains look from behind and continue on with your little hand held project.

The hours pass and Wild does eventually change out of his clothes and into some cleaner ones. You don’t know if he actually got around to washing them but you have faith in him to take care of himself.

Wild however, seems to be a little off as the day progresses. It wasn’t that bad in the beginning and was very subtle, but by the time it was time to go to bed, he checked out early and quietly got out of everyone’s way.

You had the second watch for the night and it all seemed normal. No monsters, not threats and all was quiet. Wild kept tossing and turning all night compared how silently he normally slept but it could have easily been a nightmare.

With your heart bleeding for him, you make your way over to him and shake him by his shoulder. “Wild. Wild. Wake up.”

Wild doesn’t open his eyes, his face contorted in discomfort but he does whine at your call. “Is it my watch yet? I was supposed to go after Twilight.”

“Are you ok?”

“I don’t feel good.” He groans and turns away from you, curling up into a fetal position.

You frown and place the back of your hand against his forehead.

It’s burning hot.

“You’re sick. You’re burning up.” You gulp and pull his blanket higher over him. “Don’t worry about your shift. I’ve got it covered.”

“You’re gonna go twice?” Wild is starting to fall asleep again even if he’s trying to  keep a conversation with you.

“I’ll take an extra long watch.” You shrug. You go to move away to go get something to cool him down but you place your hand on his leg by accident.

It’s also burning up.

Now you’re even more concerned.

With Wild no longer being responsive, you move the blanket out of the way and check his leg. You realize he’s only changed out of his shirt and kept the stained pants from earlier. When you roll it up you see a long, shallow cut, right where the chu chu jelly was.

It’s obviously infected.

You bite back the scream of frustration that wants to build up within you and instead go to your pack. You try to find something to help fight the infection and also to help with his fever.

It’s a quiet endeavor as you tend to him. You take care of the leg first and wrap it up with your personal bandage roll. You go to place a wet towel on Wild’s forehead.

You also try to scrounger up a kettle or something similar to make him some tea to help. But at this point you’re a little louder than you’d like and you wake up Hyrule in the process.

Which is fine. Really.

His watch was up next anyway.

“What are you doing?” He rubs his eyes and sits next to you.

“Wild got himself sick because he let a cut get infected.” You sigh. “I’m making him some tea.”

“He’s sick?” Hyrule sits a little taller. “He’s hurt?”

“Not much we can do about it now. Just watch and wait it out.”

“Do you need help?”

You pause what you’re doing and look at him. Wild is actually being very mellow despite his condition, but he could also just be very exhausted from the day and his disease. You need someone to check up on the cut soon and someone to change the towel so he can keep cool. But you also need to keep an eye on the tea so that it doesn’t scorch and you’re pretty sure breakfast is going to fall on you since in the morning since the resident chef is out.

“Yes, I’d like that a lot actually. Thank you.”

Legend

There was nothing out of ordinary with the day but you couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding. Your stomach was up in knots and you had no idea why.

Something bad was going to happen.

You kept looking all around you, trying to spot anything in the distance that would be the cause for your discomfort. But you see nothing.

“Everything ok?” Legend tilts his head. “You’re spinning around like a concerned goffer.”

“I...Don’t feel good.” You admit.

“You can go vomit in the bush. I’ll watch over ya.”

“No, not like that.” You correct him, waving the idea away like a dog fart. “I feel like something bad is going to happen.”

“Why?” He glares at you momentarily. “Why would you tell me this? I was having a good day. Now I’m going to be paranoid with you.”

You snort. “Sorry man. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Well next time, think about it and we’ll have to- AUGGHHH!!” An arrow imbeds itself into Legend’s shoulder, knocking him onto the ground.

More fly after it, two more imbedding themselves into your friend before you’re able to lift up your shield and jump in front of him, blocking any more from injuring him. The shots rain down above you both and you’re forced to hunker down so the that the shield covers you as well.

You look down at Legend as he tries to get up his feet. There’s an arrow in his main shoulder, in his torso and in his thigh. You very quickly notice that he’s collecting a lot of blood on his clothes.

He’s in no condition to fight this.

He’s out before he can get in. 

You groan and try to reach for your weapon. The others are quick to come over and help out. Wild retaliates with his own shots and Twilight and Time are quick to give the two of you cover. 

“Get him out of here!” Time commands over his shoulder.

You nod and put your shield arm down, getting onto your knees and wrapping your arms around the Hero of Legend. 

“I can stand on my own!” Legend snaps at you but he’s too locked with his own pain to do much to fight you off.

You growl at his rapidly growing blood stains and bite the bullet. In one swift move, you’re quick to pick him up bridal style and run away from the chaos.

“Forget about me! The others are going to need your help!”

You put him down behind a large enough tree and kneel next to him. “The others can handle themselves. You’ve lost your dominant arm and are bleeding profusely from three separate locations. I’d argue that you need the help right now.”

“I blame you.” He hisses, leaning back against the tree as you take out your spare health potion. 

“Why?” You keep him talking, making quick work off the arrow in his leg and in his shoulder. “How is this any way my fault?”

“It’s- aaugghh - you’re fault because you- aaugghh-  told me about your stupid accurate gut feeling of doom.” Legend pants and places his good hand by his shoulder. It’s not much but you can tell that he already feel marginally better about not having a piece of flint and a sharp stick stuck inside of him.

You uncork the potion and give it to him. He takes it although his grip is weak and there’s still one more arrow you have to go through before he can drink it.

“I’m not done. Just hold that, ok?” You move aside the folds of his tunic and can feel Legend tense up from underneath your hand. 

“This is going to suck so bad.”

“It’ll be quick, then you drink the potion and you’ll be good as new again.” You take a breath and brace yourself against the arrow and his body, anchoring your weight onto the mossy ground. “On the count of three, ok?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t think you have a choice.”

“Ok.”

“One.”

Legend curses.

“Two.”

He takes a breath and you pull it you of him. Legend is quick to scream and fill the air with profanities even as you guide the potion to his lips. He drinks out of pure spite and rips himself away from you.

“What happened to three?!” He shouts, potion half gone and dribbling a little down his chin.

“I counted that in my head.” You shrug and begin to dig out a cloth and your water skin.

“I hate you. You suck. That was awful. I’m never speaking to you again.” Legend whines and keeps sipping the potion as you start to clean up the blood to the best of your ability.

“You don’t mean any of that. I know for a fact that you actually love me very much.” You try to grin and ignore how the sounds of battle are continuing on without you.

“I’ll never forgive you.”

“Let the potion do it’s job and then you can talk to me again.” You smirk and shift your weight to get onto your feet.

“Are you going to help the others finally?” He looks up at you, taking deep breath to calm his heart and blood pressure.

You bite your lip and think about it for a moment. “You’re not jumping into that fight.”

“Do you think I can?”

“After that potion, I don’t think I can trust to not do that. I’ll stay here. Someone has to make sure you don’t throw yourself head first into battle.” You take a step and move to sit by Legend’s side behind the tree. “I don’t know about you but Hyrule will have my head if we waste a potion on you, only for you to get hurt again.”

“He wouldn’t. He’s too nice.” 

“Time will though. And I don’t think I’ll survive their collective disappointment.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“All Links need a babysitter.” You counterargue. “It’s like herding cats. I’m staying.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

A moment passes.

“...Thank you” Legend says it like you’re still fake arguing but you know he’s trying to be genuine.

You hold back a snort and only succeed by a hair thin margin. You copy the tone and grin to yourself. “You’re welcome.”

The others are fine.

Warrior

Warrior was a little more jumpy than you would have given him credit for. You had always considered him calm and collected- if only a little full of himself. But your consolation was that he could put his money where his mouth was. Whatever he claimed he could do- he proved it soon after.

So you let it slide most of the time.

Except for this.

“What is happening right now/” You ask him, eyebrow raised and full of judgement.

“Don’t question it!” He screeches and runs by your side in the opposite direction.

“Charming.” You deadpan. “The Hero of Courage, ladies and gents.”

You sigh and knock your arrow, aiming at the skulltula in front of you. You kill it in a single shot and wait for Warrior to make his reappearance.

“You killed it right?”

“Yes. I did.”

“Ok. Good. Cool. Thank you.” He takes a breath and comes back to your side, dusting the none existent debris from his tunic and scarf. “That’s great. Where do we go from here?” 

“Are you actually afraid of spiders?” You frown and let him lead the way again. “Because this place is bound to be full of them. You shouldn’t be the one to take the lead this time.”

“Really?” He stops mid step to look at you. It’s the most panicked you think you’ve ever seen him.

“Yes.” You snort and move past him. “Just follow me Soldier Boy. It’s bound full of spooky scary scalies.”

“Don’t joke about that please...” Warrior grimaces and falls into step behind you. “Look I’m not afraid of spiders.”

“You’re terrified.”

“OK! No. I just... I just don’t like bugs... or things that can crawl on the wall.... Or just jump down on you with no reason or prior warning.”

“Spiders aren’t bugs actually.” You grin. “They’re arachnids. Only two body segments and eight legs negate anything they would have in the insect category.”

“Thank you for that unnecessary information.”

“It’s not that ba- LINK LOOK OUT!” You scream and are powerless to watch as a blue wizzrobe appears from the ground and fires directly at Warrior.

He’s quick to dodge out of the way but he’s misjudged the distance between him and the attack. While Warrior sends himself careening into the wall, head first, the magic shot goes straight to you and you’re quick to grab your weapon and parry it back in the direction it came from. 

The wizzrobe makes the unfortunate decision to reappear right as it’s sent backwards and is stunned in place with its own magic. You jump over Warrior, who’s now slumped against the wall with a hand on his head, and slice at the magic creature before it shakes off the magical effect.

Your attack unstuns it but it disappears instantly and you’re left alone for the time being.

You don’t have a lot of experience with wizzrobes but you doubt they go down that easily so you stash away your weapon and make a mad dash toward your friend, aiming to make a quick getaway towards the end of the dungeon corridor. “Are you ok?”

“No.” He answer immediately and pulls his hands away. His gauntlets and fingertips are coated in blood and it’s beginning to slowly trickle down his face.

“Why on earth did you do that?” You scold and gently take his hands away, placing your own on his cheek to turn his head ever so slightly to the side to get a better look at it.

“And what would you rather have me do? Get hit by the magic bullet?”

“You didn’t have to ram yourself face first into the wall.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

You snort and pull your sleeve up, holding it gently in your fist. You brush away his hair and dab at the wound. It’s mostly superficial and you doubt it would scar. But head wounds are always worrisome.

“Well at least you’ll get to keep your pretty looks. Legend would never let you hear the end of it. Your reputation is on the line.” You smile and poke his nose. “It’s nothing serious. Are you ok to keep going?”

“I think so.” He mutters and pushes himself off the wall and back onto his feet.

The wizzrobe comes back in tandem with Warrior’s movements and fires again. Warrior growls and blocks it with his shield. You attack again as it’s stunned and watch as it dissipates into the cloud of purple smoke they all do what they die.

“That was anti-climactic.” You mutter and kick the remaining cloths that it left behind.

“Please don’t temp anything else.” Your companion whines.

“Sorry.”

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

“Let’s go.”

“Ok.” You shrug and lead the way with Warrior quick on your heels and close by. But you don’t want him to go flying into another brick wall for any other reason so you grab his hand and together you walk further into the darkened dungeon.

He’s surprising a bit calmer after that.

Part 3

[saphirered]

Drowned Sorrows (Vagrant pt2.)

Caleb settles at the table in your shared room, ink and paper ready to go to work and you grab your stuff making way to leave when Caleb stops you, stepping in your path to the door, arms crossed and eyes burning into you. You try to step around him but he just moves with you until you give up. Apparently He’s adamant on talking.

“What the hell do you want?” You roll your eyes at his childish means from preventing you from leaving the room.

“This has gone on long enough.” Caleb states.

“What has?” You play dumb and Caleb gives you a disapproving look akin to a teacher scolding a student and you could just wring the life out of him for for it. Gods, can he just leave you be?

“You know exactly what.”

“Please, by all means, enlighten me, oh grand master Widogast.” You mock and now it’s Caleb’s turn to roll his eyes. Do you have to be so annoying? Why can’t you just act like an adult?

“If you insist. Why do you run out of the room whenever I study? Why do you feel the need to cringe and cower whenever I do anything even remotely magic related?” Caleb asks as you shake your head biting your tongue. This man… This man has some guts to call you out like he has but you suppose maybe this whole thing between the two of you wouldn’t have been as much of an issue if the two of you could just talk about your issues instead of bottling it up until you burst in moments like these, usually ending in some kind of shouting match followed by the silent treatment until Nott makes you ‘kiss and make up’ like she’s your mom.

“It’s none of your business, Caleb. Now let me out.” You once again try to push past him but he doesn’t let you. “Try me, Widogast or I’ll-“ You threaten but are cut off.

“Do what? You won’t use your magic beyond rudimentary practices. What could you possibly do?” Caleb pushes. You know he’s pushing your buttons, your anger only another means to get answers for himself and you hate yourself for falling for his calculated move but you still do.

“You don’t want to find out, Widogast. It didn’t end well for the last people.” There it is. That’s what he’d been waiting for. Those words alone, that threat is not an empty one. You wouldn’t harm him, not permanently at least but there’s a truth to your words and Caleb knows his calculated move to piss you off is paying off. He’ll have to tread carefully if he wants more answers and not actually provoke your wrath.

Shit. Shit shit shit. ‘It didn’t end well for the last people’. Shit. You didn’t want those words to leave your lips at all. Ever. Stupid Caleb fucking Widogast. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You can’t deal with this right now and try to push him out of the way but Caleb hardly budges. You half contemplate leaving through the window just to make a point but you’d rather not draw that kind of attention to yourself.

“Veiled threats and half truths. Those are a coward’s words who doesn’t intend to make true on their promises.” Oh you’re this far away from kicking his ass.

“Well it takes one to know one.” You hiss. “You might want to think twice. We still share a room and I will not hesitate to smother you with a pillow while you sleep. Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” You feel a tingling in your fingertips, frustration running through your face with just a tiny hint of fear. You ball your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. Last thing you need is to lose control right now but Caleb doesn’t have to know that.

Caleb steps out of the way, allowing you to pass. He stares you down until you close the door behind you, sharing one last glare before you’re off doing whatever you can to not be in any proximity of that room.

————

Hours later Nott has fallen asleep at the foot of Jester’s bed, the tiefling herself curled up comfortably. Beau’s sprawled out across her own bed limbs dangling off each side as she snores. You’d fallen asleep sitting against Beau’s bed until her hand slapped you in the face rudely pulling you from your not so comfortable sleeping position. You get up and stretch your limbs, cracking your back. Hopefully Caleb will have gone to sleep himself and you’ll be able to make it to your own bed without dealing with the wizard at this late, or rather early hour.

Exiting the girls’ room you see Fjord slumped against the wall near to his room, giggles and moans coming from the room he shares with Mollymauk. This time he had the sense to bring a pillow but Fjord still looked about as comfortable as anyone could be sleeping against the wall of one of the most expensive places in all of Zadash. You contemplated waking him and telling him to take your bed instead but you don’t doubt you’ll lose your comfy bed forever if you switched roommates. Don’t want to set any precedents because in all honesty, rather him than you having to deal with the lavender tiefling living his life to the fullest. Still, you take your cloak, throwing it over the half-orc gently as you move on to your room.

You don’t see any candle light bleeding through the narrow slit beneath the door so you count yourself lucky as you quietly open the door and slide in, tiptoeing over to your bed, putting your things down and beginning to get ready to sleep. You pull the silk covers back and lay down, making yourself comfortable and close your eyes. You can still smell the scent of that fine parchment and ink. You can almost hear the phantom scribbling of a pen over that paper, dipping into the ink vial every so often to replenish. It’s pure torture. The sound needs to stop. The smell needs to go and despite you trying to use some prestidigitation to get rid of the smell, changing it to those overly fragrant flowers at the shop you passed by a few days ago, the smell is still stuck in your nostrils, the sound still trapped in your ears, the damage already done.

You turn over onto your back, pulling the pillow from beneath you and pulling it over your head, releasing a frustrated but soft muffled scream more akin to a sigh into the plush feathers. The darkness behind your eyelids doesn’t help as you feel a vision of a room creep in, one etched into your memory just as that scent and sound are. Accompanied by feelings of pain and fear, desperation and helplessness, is the feeling of being completely and utterly trapped. No matter your tossing and turning, it all remains and the walls close in, sleep couldn’t be further out of your reach. That is until the lights turn on. A gentle orange glow fills the room and you’re pulled away from your memories and back into the room you share with Caleb.

“Would you stop your tossing and turning, please.” Caleb asks groggy, the sound of moving fabrics and endless sighs having awoken him from his own sleep. Caleb turns over to see you sitting, elbows on your bent knees and head in your hands as you try to stabilise your breathing, counting under your breath like its a life line. You may not exactly be friends and quarrel more often than not, that doesn’t mean he can’t be worried for you. Something’s clearly wrong and it doesn’t take an expert to see that.

“Are you alright?” He asks carefully turning to a half seated position to get a better view of you.

“Just go back to sleep, Caleb.” You grumble not moving from your position. No quip back, no witty remark, not even actual annoyance or a half threat to let Jester draw dicks in his precious books. The position you’re in, the traits you’re displaying are also familiar to him. He’s found himself in a similar situation many times and while you may have said it before as an offence, it’s true no less; takes one to know one. You’re reliving trauma, or at least coming back from reliving a traumatic memory of some kind. Triggered by what exactly?

“I’ll go back to sleep when I’m sure I won’t be awoken again every ten minutes.” In other words; talk.

“Piss off.” You spit raising from your bed, reaching for your bag. Instead you find an orange tabby raising it’s back and hissing at you, by the command of his master no doubt. You have half the mind to pick the cat up by the scruff and toss him at the wizard but right now you just want out.

“You can’t keep running away from your problems forever.” The words hit hard. Caleb’s right but why does it sound like a statement not solely directed at you? You know exactly why. You might not exactly have had any bonding moments with Caleb and he’s been shifty about his past but you know the words of someone who tries to deny that same truth themself.

“It seems to work just perfectly for you. Hypocrite.” It sounded like a curse. Hypocrite. Caleb had known for a long time but having it thrown so bluntly at his face, it hurt. He doesn’t lash out in anger or hit back with an equally venomous retort but instead just stares at you with pity. He really does pity you. He may not know the story but he knows that pain and no one should have to endure that. Still it’s your choice to keep it to yourself. It’s your choice to keep it all bottled up and locked away. No matter what he says, or does for that matter, he can’t change your mind, or even help you despite your differences, if you don’t allow anyone in, regardless of your like, or dislike in his case, for the person. He can’t help someone who won’t help themselves. And that’s exactly what makes him the biggest hypocrite here. His pain is his punishment.

“Where are you going?” Caleb asks as you push Frumpkin aside just enough to reach for your coin pouch, the cat hissing and clawing at your hands until he falls silent again. You open the door looking back one last time.

“To find a rooftop with a good view and drown my sorrows.” You close the door behind you and do exactly that. A bottle or two of good booze acquired and a nice rooftop found. The view would have been nice weren’t it cloudy. Halfway through your first bottle the gods decided to shit in your dish by the sound of rolling thunder and rain pouring down from the skies by the buckets, drenching you to the bone in a matter of seconds. You debated going back inside but you’re stubborn and stayed on that rooftop watching the water spill over the drains until you were shaking from the cold. Maybe suffering from hypothermia isn’t worth making a statement.

[spencersawkward]

hi! today is my birthday (yeah, a day before his) and as a big fan of yours that i am, i know that you made a one-shot for his birthday, but could you do it like it would be if it was your first birthday with him? i reeeally appreciate and love your work! keep doing this, you're amazing! thank you!!

ok the daddy kink gotta go on pause bc we have an EMERGENCY called it's a baddie's birthday! 🥳 happy birthday babe i hope it's as special and lovely as can be! also thank you that made my day of course i'd be happy to write a one-shot like that :)

summary: reader reunites with Matthew for her birthday after his absence on a week-long trip. 

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk.

word count: 3.8k 

masterlist

after lighting my favorite candles on the bedside table and smoothing out the wrinkles on the bed, I climb onto the mattress and fold my legs up beneath me, criss-cross applesauce. there's a warm, peachy light that falls onto the white comforter, aureate and gentle when I straighten my spine.

I have spent my birthday so far dealing with tired limbs and people I don't like; the only good part so far was getting lunch with a couple of my friends, but something still feels absent.

that something is Matthew.

he's been in Los Angeles for a week, and I miss him like crazy. the apartment is cold and hollow without him in it, despite the numerous objects of his that decorate every nook and cranny. a star and moon mobile hangs above our bed, which sounds childish but actually is fun for both of us to look at when we're lying together at night.

our eyes always follow as the crescent and circle shapes cross each other in a slow circle while we talk. and every time he's gone, his side of the bed gets cold. I miss his mouth and the shape of his arms when they enfold me. I've never been much for showing affection, but I would cover him in kisses if we had all day together.

absence makes the heart grow fonder, I guess.

he's coming home tonight and I've been looking forward to it for days now. even our kitten, Clarisse, lifts her head every time someone in the hallway of the building passes. she likes to sit between us whenever she can.

I let my thoughts roam freely as I take deep breaths and center my mind. it's hard to reign in the joy I feel at the memory of him. I haven't had an orgasm since he left, not because I haven't had the motivation, but because Matthew has created a new rule.

neither of us can pleasure ourselves until we see each other again. technically, I suppose we could break the rule and there would be no ramifications-- but it's kinda fun, to be honest. every night he calls me, and every night he tiptoes around the things he wants to do when he gets home. he can always hear the shortness of my breath when he says anything erring on risqué, asking what I'm wearing or if I've been thinking of him. of course I've been thinking of him; my nights swell with apparitions of his touch, moving over my skin without any tangible reality.

it usually ends with him tsking and telling me to be patient while I dig my fingernails into the inside of my thighs, resisting every urge within me to get off to the sound of his voice. he does it so well, too. all deep and desirous when he tells me to be good.

even as I sit here on the bed, a tingling feeling starts in my stomach. I want him too badly, and waiting has been absolute torture. I remember two nights ago, when I was sitting in his favorite armchair with my knees tucked into my chest, speaking softly to him.

"what have you been up to?"

"nothing out of the ordinary: filming, drawing... thinking of you." he had said, the last three words igniting a flame in my stomach. I love to hear him say that.

"anything in particular?" I started to trace absent-mindedly over the skin of my calves.

"thinking about how good you'd look with your hands between your legs." his voice was somehow silky and raspy all at once, like the idea of it was arousing him. I bit my lip and squeezed my thighs together.

"stop tempting me."

"why?"

"you know damn well why." I giggled. he sighed on the other end of the line.

"I'm starting to hate this rule."

"you made it!" I argued, practically able to hear the mischievous little smile on his face.

"I know, but I wanna hear your noises."

"Matthew..." I blushed, even though he wasn't right in front of me.

"I can't wait to hear you scream that." the drop in his tone made goosebumps rise over my skin.

"are you hard right now?"

"maybe." he hesitated. I felt every cell in my body begging me to cheat our rule-- maybe bend it slightly-- but I hold true.

"get home, then, and I'll suck the soul out of you." I laughed a bit and heard him move in his seat.

"stop teasing."

"you're one to talk," I glanced out the window at the city glittering, full of so many people and empty of him. "I should go before we fuck this up for ourselves."

"no..." he whined like a needy puppy for a moment. "just talk to me normally."  

"fine," I pretended to be disappointed. I didn't want to hang up, anyway. "do you wanna hear about my coworkers? that's guaranteed to eradicate all sexual thoughts."

...

he texts me half an hour later, as I blow out the wicks of my candles and watch the rest of the sun disappear. I love nighttime. he's on his way and I get butterflies, despite the fact that I already know what's coming.

instead of waiting giddily with Clarisse, I elect to take a hot shower and wash the day from my bones. I feel more at ease now that I've had some time to sit with my thoughts, although they've made me even more sexually frustrated.

it's only when I'm drying my hair and sitting in my new lingerie slip dress that relief walks through the door in the form of Matthew and a pizza from our favorite neighborhood place. I hear him come in, practically leap up and run into the living room.

"hi!" he greets, standing in the entryway with his suitcase and a scarf thrown casually around his neck. he shuts the door just in time for me to get to him.

"hi hi hi!" I attach myself like a parasite, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him tightly.  

"happy birthday, my sweet girl," he kisses the top of my head and lets out a chuckle at my affection. "can I set my stuff down, quick?" Clarisse brushes against his leg.

reluctantly, I disentangle myself and take the pizza box from his hands and carry it into the kitchen. he makes a high-pitched whistle noise as I walk away, bending over to greet our cat.

"liking the view." he jokes. I set down the box and return to him, removing his scarf and coat with something of an impatience.

"shut up," I laugh. he starts to kiss my cheekbone, smiles against my skin while I peel off the winter layers. he's got too many clothes on. "you didn't need to pick up a pizza."

"it's your special day-- I wanted to get you the finest cuisine in Manhattan." he replies sincerely. I bite back a grin and stare up at him, completely and utterly in love with his stupid turns of phrase.

"it's gonna get cold, though."

"why?" he frowns. I answer by pulling him in for a voracious kiss, cupping his face in my hands. after a moment of us pressing our torsos together, he grabs the backs of my thighs and I jump, letting him hold me up. one of his hands rests beneath my butt, squeezing the flesh while we embrace.

"you're gonna drop me if we don't get to the bedroom soon." I giggle into his mouth. he playfully smacks my ass and carries me into our favorite place, slamming the door shut with his foot and setting me down on the mattress. I smile at his perfect features, wanting to both tear into him and preserve this moment in time forever.

he climbs onto the bed, pushes my legs apart and runs his hands along the outside of my thighs to hitch up my slip. I raise my eyebrows but don't argue when he gathers the dress up around my waist and yanks my panties down.

"I've been thinking about your pussy all day." he kisses the skin above my knee, moving much too slowly up my legs while he holds them open. I feel my hips leave the bed in eagerness, and he glances at my core hungrily. "you're dripping, baby."

"don't make me wait any more." I roll my eyes and he places the flat of his hand over my center, barely stimulating me while pushing me down. he knows the effect it has from the tortured whine I release.

"the best things come with time." he winks and continues his open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs. his head is between my legs, but not nearly in the way I'd like it to be. I crave more; he knows it. he licks over a spot near my pussy and I moan.

"sensitive, huh?" he raises an eyebrow. I run my fingers through those unruly curls, tug.

"don't act as if you aren't just as turned on right now."  

"delayed gratification is a skill, darling." he's smirking and it's driving me wild looking at him in this position, not doing anything. he peeks at my body again before meeting my eyes. "you're dragging this out by talking, by the way."

"oh my god." I throw my head back into the pillow, but go silent as he starts to resume his movements. finally, slowly, he licks up my entrance, pausing at my crest to flick his tongue. I gasp and look at him, his focus all on my face.

he rolls his mouth expertly over me, dipping between my folds to taste and releasing a greedy moan before starting to lap and play with it like he can't stop himself anymore. this time, when I grip his hair, I use it as leverage to grind against him. he feels so good, the sounds coming from my lips are truly unhinged.

"oh, shit, shit-- just like that." I choke out. every part of me clings to him. he wraps his hands around my thighs and yanks me down the bed so he can do more with me. every action with his tongue is like a delicious torture, him exploring all the parts of me as if he's never tasted them before. when he runs his teeth gently across my clit, I moan loudly.

"so hot, Matthew, god, please--"

he doesn't even stop to tease me at all. judging by the darkened irises and blown-out pupils, he's lost in his own world while he eats me out. I can feel the pads of his fingertips gripping onto my skin as if it's his only tether to reality. he behaves like someone inebriated, trying new tricks and thrusting his tongue into my entrance. I'm already close, and he can feel from the insistence of my sounds.

he pulls away for a second and I whine, but he puts two fingers over my clit and rubs me like crazy while he talks.

"is this what you wanted for your birthday, sweetheart? to cum?" his mouth is glistening with my essence, lips swollen, while he holds my gaze. I'm whimpering.

"we're gonna have dinner after this and then for dessert, I'm gonna give you what you want," he pants and I can see the erection straining against his clothes. "okay?"

"mhmm." I buck against his touch, which is bringing me closer with every passing second.

"I'm treating you until that little pussy can't take it anymore." he bites his lip and watches me squirm. I'm almost to the edge and I know what will finish me.

"I need your mouth." I beg him hopefully. Matthew grins.

"whatever you want, baby." and with that, he bends down again and replaces his talented fingers with his lips, flicking and running over my clit until I can feel my stomach tensing.

"fuck!" I cry out, rolling against his face and climaxing intensely. my eyes squeeze shut at the tightening of all my muscles. my skin is on fire as I clutch at my tits through the fabric of my dress and feel my back move off the bed. he's pulling my legs up so that he can work me through my orgasm at an angle, harshly sucking at it until I'm completely worn out.

he puts me down and I breathe deeply, try to settle the quickness of my pulse.

"how was that?" he asks, rubbing over my legs affectionately while I come down from my high.

"amazing." I sit up and start to tug at his belt in the hopes of undoing it, but Matthew removes my wrist and shakes his head. I peek up at him with a curious, disappointed expression.

"it's your day, remember?" he says it so lovingly with a slightly higher pitch than normal, soft and laced with kindness. I look at his erection, anyway, always wanting the sight of it.

"that can't be comfortable."

"oh, it's not." he laughs. I let him lift me off the bed and he guides me to the kitchen on my slightly weak legs. everything about him leaves me like that.

Matthew and I eat pizza and drink champagne while he tells me about his trip, about all the cool people he met and places he went to shoot. he shows pictures of the cast and him making silly faces, and a bakery he saw.

"all the pastries are named after amazing women," he grins and presents a photo of the interior, which is full of flowers and hues of rich blue. "so I obviously thought of you."

I smile through my bite of food, heart fluttering. he shows me a picture of a half-eaten cookie that has the silhouette of a woman on the front, sitting in a chair. it's very 1800's-looking.

"it's supposed to be Jane Austen."

"I'm jealous." I grin.

"I'll take you sometime." he puts his phone away and we go back to talking normally. I could watch his lips move forever, listen to his voice forever. there's a quality to his speech that is entirely unique, that draws me in and makes me want to claim him for life. I didn't know it was possible to want someone so completely.

I rant about the things I had to deal with today, and he chuckles at my naturally indignant tone. by the time I run out of steam, we're just sitting with pleased expressions on our faces. even when I'm angry about something that's happened earlier, he knows how to make me forget all about it.

"it would be fun for everyone to meet you." Matthew toys with the napkin in his lap. I sigh.

"as long as there's alcohol involved, sure."

"why?"

"they make me nervous!"

"you have no reason to be nervous," he shakes his head slowly. "they'll love you."

"that's the thing-- I want them to like me so badly, I'll do something to mess it up."

"you couldn't. you're adorable when you're shy." he reaches under the table and squeezes my knee reassuringly. I try to smile, but my stomach twists up at the thought. it's easy for Matthew; he's so uninhibited.

"you say that now, but it'll be a different story when I've managed to fall on my face in front of everyone."

he snorts. "okay, that would be kind of funny."

"hey!" but I'm hiding a smile.

"they'll love you," he keeps his hand on my leg as he looks at me. "you wanna know how I know?"

"how?" I wait patiently for his reply. he leans forward in his seat and beckons me closer.

"because you are the sweetest--" he kisses me. "smartest--" another peck. "funniest girl I know."

"stop." I deadpan as I turn my face away just enough for him to nuzzle my cheek with his nose as I laugh.

"not to mention the sexiest one, too." he whispers in my ear. I put my hand on his shoulder, intending to push him away playfully but finding myself not wanting to.

"I knew that's where you were gonna take that." I roll my eyes. his other hand has been creeping progressively up my thigh until his fingers brush my core. I suck in a breath, remembering that my panties are still in the bedroom.

"you want me to prove it to you?" he starts to stroke over me, gathering the wetness on his fingers that already waits for him. I let out a slight moan as he dips inside and curls his digits.

"mhmm."

he starts to finger me easily, adding a second and pumping them inside while I grip the edge of the table and watch his face concentrate on mine. he's rough and deep, the result of not having his own orgasm earlier. I can see the lust in his eyes like he can't wait to dive in. all that comes out of my mouth are chants of his name, begging for him as his thumb toys with my clit. my walls clench and his jaw hangs open with a slight smile.

"do that again." he says. I obey, squeezing my thighs around his wrist. he feels so good there, and he's not even doing that much. "god, I can't wait for you to do that on my cock."

"fuck me, then." I breathe.

"gladly," he removes his fingers so suddenly, I make a disappointed noise. "get on the table, sweetheart."

"the-- the table?" I glance down at the surface. he nods in complete seriousness. oh, wow.

we clear off the two plates and down the rest of our champagne, his lips capturing mine easily the second I turn around from putting them in the sink. he walks me back to the table, never breaking our contact, before I end up sitting on it. he's between my legs, pushing his hips to mine while he moves my dress up again.

I hum into his neck while he starts to grind against me, undoing his belt and breathing quickly in my ear. I can feel his length through the fabric, feel how desperate he is. I scoot closer to the edge and try to get more.

"are you sure you don't want me to suck your dick?" I peek at him. he tilts my face up and I feel myself sink into those dark circles around his eyes. my beautiful, haunted boy.

"I need to be inside you." he says it without an ounce of humor. every word weighted with desire as he holds me there. my insides feel like they've been electrified, nerves sparking. all I can do is nod fervidly and pull his shirt off.

he takes off his bottoms and stares back at me, stroking his cock while I trail my nails down his chest, abdomen, whatever I can find. he's so gorgeous, I want to leave marks just so I can make sure he's real. he rubs himself in my essence, then pushes the head inside.

"Matthew--" I bite down on his shoulder to silence myself as he stretches me out. it hasn't even been that long, but it feels like the first time. his head dropping down with a long, low groan of pleasure.

"I missed this." he sheathes himself inside, deep, and I feel my walls tightening around him. there's a pressure on my clit from the position we're in, too. I whine on it, letting myself wiggle impatiently.

"move." I whisper. he starts to withdraw, only about halfway, before going in again. I throw my head back at the force of his thrust, so greedy. he's groaning softly while he presses his mouth to my throat, the flutter of his breath over my skin causing shivers to run up and down my spine.

I wrap my legs around his waist and he starts to find a rhythm with my body. nails dig into his back as an anchor. the closeness of his chest to mine is comforting.

"do you know how hard it was not to get myself off, baby?" he says, the words threaded with a needy tone. I shake my head and pray he'll keep talking. "every night I'd think about you and I couldn't do anything about it."

"you could have." I taunt.

"this is better," he goes faster, clutching at my waist and legs to pull me closer. "so much better."

"yeah?" I giggle, although it's hard when he's pounding into me so hard. I cling tightly and try to meet his thrusts. he's hitting different angles within me that I didn't even know existed, tearing me apart in the absolute best way.

"I wanna be inside it all day." he moans. I'm scratching his back with the way we're working together, every word out of his mouth and the sounds he makes causing me to lose my mind. his fingers dig into my ass as he slams into me. the table shakes beneath.

"that feels so fucking good." I grab on and roll my hips against his. his hand moves to my shoulder to push the straps of my dress down.

"let me see you," he tugs them until my tits are out, at which point he grabs my waist and pulls me against him, moaning loudly at the feeling. "pretty girl."

I can feel the tidal wave building within me, the seconds that gather into one wild, exquisite torrent of pleasure. the knot in my stomach tightens as he fucks me.

"I'm gonna cum." tears prick the back of my eyes. he's working my figure so perfectly, I can barely see. my legs are shaking before I even reach the culmination.

"good." he gets erratic as he imagines how pleasurable it'll be to have me clenching around him, and I sink below the surface. my hips jerk and I cry out like it's my last time being with him, his name pouring from my mouth. Matthew speeds up.

"so... tight--" he shudders. "oh fuck-- that's it, baby, that's it."

he spills inside and it prolongs our orgasms, both of us breathing hard while I remove my arms from his shoulders and lean back on my hands against the table, him still thrusting gently into me while we hold eye contact.

when he's finished, he removes himself from me and then we're just there, looking at each other with love all over our faces.

"happy birthday, Y/N." he grins.

"can you give me one more gift?" I bite my lip. he frowns.

"oh, I have several gifts for you in my suitcase--" he starts to say with a laugh, then sees that I'm not referring to anything tangible. "yes, anything."

"can you Clorox this table, please?"

Matthew kisses my cheek. "of course."

[kasienda]

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 7 - Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Chapter 4: A Thank You

Chapter 5: Unwanted Revelations

Chapter 6: Miraculous Abuse

Chapter 7: Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Adrien’s room felt more like a prison than it ever had before, and he had always felt like the walls were closing in on him a bit, and so that afternoon he had snuck out to Nino’s the second he had managed to chase Nathalie out of his room. 

Nino’s room - despite being small and cramped - never made Adrien feel claustrophobic. Adrien suspected it had something to do with the company. 

“What should my snake name be?” Nino asked out of nowhere.

“You’re not going to use it!” Adrien objected. “You don’t need a name.”

“Come on, dude! Just for fun!” 

Adrien sighed. “Basilisk.” 

Nino tapped his lips in consideration. “It’s okay. I don’t feel much like the king of anything.” 

“Python.” 

“Boring.”

“Diamondback.” 

Nino’s eyebrows furrowed together. “What does Diamondback have to do with anything?”

“It’s a type of snake,” Adrien explained, and then turned to Nino with a smirk. “But it’s also a type of turtle.” 

Nino just shook his head. “That’s a better reason not to use it. No associations with turtles! We gotta keep my identity super secret!”

“The best way to keep it secret is to not use the snake at all!” 

“What about something to do with time?” Nino asked, ignoring Adrien’s objection. 

“Cronos.” 

“Also boring! Dude! Why are you so bad at this?”

“I don’t see you coming up with anything.”

“Because you’re definitely the cooler of the two of us,” Nino said.  

Adrien shook his head. “Nino, I named myself Black Cat. I’m not super original when it comes to names.” 

Nino laughed. “Fair point.”

“And you are just as cool as me,” he insisted, though he whipped out his phone anyway and typed out a search for ‘names related to time’ and started scrolling through various sites with baby and pet names. 

“What do you think of Baqi?” Adrien asked. “It means eternal.” 

Nino frowned. “That’s an arabic name. Do you think me taking on an arabic name is potentially identity revealing?”

“Okay, here’s one in sanskrit. Ananta.”

Nino nodded. “A bit of a mouthful, but I like it.” 

Adrien’s eyebrows rose. “A mouthful compared to Carapace?”

Nino laughed. “What’s it mean?” 

“Infinite.” 

“Dude! Perfect. Let’s go with Ananta. I wonder what I look like with the snake.”

Adrien groaned, seriously regretting in that moment giving Nino the Snake instead of Ladybug.

“Do you not want me to?” Nino asked seriously.

Adrien waved his hand in encouragement. “Just do it. I’d be curious too.” He was curious, too. 

Nino grinned and scrambled to his feet. “Sass! Scales slither.”

Adrien found himself mirroring Nino’s excitement. These silly stupid moments with Nino were the ones that were keeping him sane at the moment. 

The rest of the time he was a bit of a mess. 

Keep reading on Ao3

Adrien found himself a lot more resentful of his homework than normal when it stole away most of his time to spend on his friends and on himself now that he was used to being able to finish at least half of it in the space of five minutes as far as the rest of the world was concerned. 

And it didn’t help that it was suddenly so much harder to pay attention in class since he was hyper aware of Marinette sitting right behind him every single day. 

Seeing her in general was really hard because he knew how she felt. He knew that if he asked her out she would likely say yes, and he had to hold himself back. Before he had given up the snake, he had been able to scratch that itch by visiting her in the evenings in a time loop. 

Now? Now, he had to survive off of her garbled greetings and flustered blushes. 

He lived for her blushes. The blush that had always been there since he had apologized to her in the rain the day they met. He had thought she was just shy and self-conscious. But now, it was easy to recognize that she didn’t do it around anyone else - not even Chat Noir. That blush was reserved for Adrien Agreste and Adrien Agreste alone. 

It meant that she loved him. 

It was a good thing that it didn’t take much to trigger. Just a simple greeting often did the trick. 

“Good morning, Marinette.” 

And the pink would bloom across her cheeks like flowers in spring every time. 

That blush kept him from going out of his mind. It reminded him that she still loved him even if she wasn’t able to say it. 

A god, he hoped that she didn’t say anything because right now, he wasn’t ever going to be able to say no. 

“G-good morning, Adrien.”

He smiled. Her stutter was less reliable. She was getting better at talking to him, which he figured was a good sign, but he also loved that he could still fluster her on occasion. “How are you?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” she said.

He didn’t like that answer. He knew that it wasn’t real. He turned to her as she sat down, and leaned into her space. “Marinette, how are you, really?” 

She looked at him in surprise. “I’m… things were rough for awhile, but I think I’m starting to get a handle on the new order of things.” 

“I’m glad.” And he meant it. Telling Alya had clearly changed things for her for the better. He was so glad she didn’t have to hold the weight of the world alone anymore. 

“How are you?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “I’m still figuring out my new order of things, but I like to think that things are actually trending in the right direction.” It might even be true. He wasn’t sure, to be honest. He was definitely getting better at coping with the absolute insanity his life had become if nothing else. 

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” she asked.

He smiled. “Of course.” 

It wasn’t everything he wanted. It wasn’t everything he knew the moment could be. 

But… it was enough.

At least most of the time. 

When it wasn’t, he called Nino and screamed about the injustice of it all, whines about how unfair and unreasonable his father was,  cursed Shadowmoth’s existence to all nine levels of hell, ranted about how much he just wanted to be able to be done with it all so that he and Ladybug didn’t have to worry about akumas or the end of the world. They could just be teenagers.

They could just be happy. 

But Shadowmoth clearly had other plans. After a lull, the akumas exploded both in frequency and awfulness. The encounters were taking longer to handle - especially without the benefit of the snake - and Adrien was having a much harder time explaining his disappearances and his father was suddenly breathing down his neck even more than usual. 

“Your marks have not been up to your usual standard, Adrien.” 

“I’m sorry, father.”

“Need I remind you that you promised you would continue to excel if you started at public school? If you cannot maintain the usual standards of excellence, I will not hesitate to return you to lessons with private tutors.”

Adrien hung his head. “Yes, father.” 

“In the meantime, you will spend less time with your friends until your grades improve.” 

Adrien sighed, and trudged back to his room. The punishment meant almost nothing because as far as his father was concerned, he only was allotted an hour a week with his friends, and usually a photoshoot got scheduled on top of his scheduled “friend time”. And of course, Adrien was actually hanging out with Nino almost every day without his father’s knowledge. 

But he felt exhausted anyway. He was tired of shoots, he was tired of homework, he was tired of Akumas, and he was most definitely tired of pretending. Tired of pretending for the sake of his father’s company image, tired of pretending he wasn’t worn down to nothing from all the responsibilities of both his personas, tired of pretending Marinette was just a friend. 

He flopped onto his bed only for the akuma alert to go off two minutes later. Adrien groaned. It was the second one that day and the fifth one that week.

But Adrien dragged himself to his feet anyway. At least he would get to see Marinette again.

But it wasn’t Ladybug he ran into on the scene.

It was Ananta. 

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Chat Noir demanded. 

Ananta was hiding hunched over in an alleyway with the whole akuma scene in clear view. “Just offering a little insurance. I haven’t actually engaged in any of the battles, but they’ve seemed a little rough lately.”

“Battles?” Chat Noir repeated. “As in plural, as in more than one?”

Ananta winced. “Yeah, I’ve been doing this for the last four or five akumas because things have seemed super dicey for you. But I haven’t actually engaged with the akuma or anything.”

“How many loops?” Adrien asked harshly.

“So far, none. You’re that awesome, dude!” Ananta raved, clapping Chat Noir on the back.  “You would have known if I had been through a loop because I’d have to intervene to give you the info on the last loop, right?”

Adrien relaxed. “Right.” 

....

But the akuma after that, Nino did intervene. 

But at least Ananta had managed to stay out of Ladybug’s sight and out of any pictures. 

And after the fact, Nino had insisted he had only needed three loops to defeat that akuma. 

“I don’t like it,” Adrien had insisted anyway. “Please, don’t use it anymore.” 

“Dude! I’m not doing this for some adrenaline rush. I’m not like Alya who goes looking for trouble, or like you who insists on throwing yourself in front of the blasts. I’m doing this only because it’s clear that Hawkmoth has stepped up his game, and you need support.” 

Adrien started to object. 

“Ladybug needs support, too,” Nino added. 

Which was such a low blow. Because Adrien was never going to be able to argue with that. 

“Unless you want to take it back?” Nino offered.

Adrien considered it. He didn’t want Nino to get stuck in a battle loop. He didn’t want Nino to experience anything like Desperada. At least in his own case, he was already damaged and traumatized by what he had experienced.

But even the idea of taking it scared the crap out of him. Because there was no way he wouldn’t use it to visit Marinette. 

He missed her with every fiber of his being. It had only been three weeks. Three weeks where he hadn’t been able to have a conversation with her without filters, three weeks since he had been able to kiss her. He hadn’t been able to kiss her for like three weeks. Three excruciating long weeks where he hadn’t been able to tell her that Adrien and Chat Noir were one in the same. Where he had been truly seen for all that he was and truly loved because of it. 

And the more time that went by the less convinced he was that he’d be able to come out of that loop.

“No, you should still hang onto it,” he whispered. 

“Or if you wanted, we could give it back to Ladybug,” Nino suggested. “She could hand it out to whoever Viperion is.” 

Which was reasonable. Though Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted Luka to experience a bad battlefield loop either. 

Then the akuma alert rang simultaneously from both their phones. Adrien covered his hands in his face. 

“Gah! Does he never sleep?!” 

“Come on, mec. Let’s go.” 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” 

During the battle, Nino had intervened, but he hadn’t intervened with Chat Noir; he had spoken to Ladybug in the final loop. The battle had gone amazingly smoothly after that, but Ananta slipped away before the traditional fist bump and Ladybug was not pleased. 

She was pissed. 

“You lost the snake?!” Ladybug demanded, her blue eyes flashing in anger.

“I didn’t lose it!” he said defensively. “I know exactly where it is.”

“You gave it away? Why?”

His claws tore through his own hair as he took a deep breath. “Because… it wasn’t safe with me anymore,” he admitted softly.

Some of her anger faded, replaced with concern. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t explain without telling you things you’ve told me not to tell you.” Which was mostly true. 

She fidgeted on the spot, considering. “Can you tell me who he is?” she asked. 

He laughed. “Definitely not.” 

“What?! Why not?”

“I gave it to my best friend, Ladybug. If you know who he is, you’ll know who I am. And that apparently might lead to the end of the world,” he bit out sarcastically. 

She frowned. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” he admitted. 

“What can I do?” she asked. 

“You can’t do anything,” he told her gently. “I’m handling it.” 

“I… I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with you,” she admitted. 

He laughed darkly. “Welcome to my world.”

She blushed. She actually blushed! He had made her blush as Chat Noir! Sure, it was probably more out of embarrassment than love, but he would take it!

“I guess I deserved that one,” she said. 

He took her hand and squeezed it. He wished he could sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but he couldn’t risk that. “I know exactly how frustrating it is to be left in the dark.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

He shook his head, squeezing her hand through their gloves once again. What would it feel like to hold her hand when neither of them was transformed? He wanted to find out. He wanted it so bad.  

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” he said. “I just want you to know that I understand. And I will tell you everything when it’s safe. In the meantime, can you please just trust me?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. You know that I do!”

And he did, now, didn’t he? 

He smiled. 

“I’m just…  I’m scared that if something happens to you, the snake will be lost,” she said.

“The person I gave it to knows how to get it back to you in that case,” he said.

“And how would he get it back to me?” she asked.

“He’d give it to you or to Rena Rouge during a patrol.”

She seemed startled at his inclusion of Rena Rouge, but she nodded. “You trust him?”

“I trust him more than I trust myself. And as much as I trust you.” 

“And they can handle the side effects of the snake?” 

Adrien sighed again. That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Could anyone handle the effects of the snake? “He’s done really well so far. This wasn’t the first battle where he’s been here, offering us a bit of insurance.”

She winced. “Yeah, the akumas have sucked lately.”

“Tell me about it.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry that I questioned you. I do trust you and your judgement. Your friend can keep the snake as long as you think it’s best.” 

“Thank you, LB,” he said softly. 

She nodded and smiled. He returned the expression and offered her a friendly salute. 

Then he vaulted straight for Nino’s family home. 

“How many loops?” Adrien asked without preamble. 

Nino rolled his eyes. “It was nineteen this time. But it wasn’t bad at all, dude. Kinda weird and trippy, but not so bad.”

But Adrien didn’t like it. He feared the number would keep growing. How many loops was too many? 

Adrien didn’t know.

…

His father had missed eight dinners in a row, and Adrien couldn’t decide if he felt relieved or disappointed.

On one hand, his father’s absence meant Adrien could ask to eat in his room, which meant he could escape the mansion that much sooner. And Nino actually wanted to spend time with Adrien.

It also meant he’d avoid his father’s censure about everything from his last photoshoot to the way he held his fork. Adrien simply did not have the energy to be on his best behavior.

But his father’s continued absence also felt like it reaffirmed Adrien’s fears - that his father didn’t care. And the longer his father’s absence the more desperate Adrien was for any sign, no matter how small, that his father had thought about him at all. 

When his father’s scowling face did join him at the dining room table on evening number nine, Adrien regretted ever wishing for his father to make an appearance. 

“Your grades have dropped unacceptably low,” were the first words out of his father’s mouth.

Adrien fought off his eye roll. He literally had two B’s and the rest of his classes were A’s. Admittedly one of them was borderline, but he didn’t think anyone else’s parents in his class would have found his performance subpar even if this was the lowest his own grades had ever been in his life.

“You also didn’t behave professionally at the last photoshoot. You arrived late and your hair and make-up had to be redone.”

Adrien sighed. That had been four Akumas ago. Or was it five? Honestly, Adrien was losing track. 

“We didn’t get all the shots we needed. It has been rescheduled for Monday morning. You have two weeks to turn around both your attitude and your grades,” he father said without an ounce of warmth or concern, “or you will return to home schooling.”

Adrien sighed. “I’m sorry I have disappointed you father. I have been… having a hard time maintaining my motivation lately.”

Gabriel’s expression did not change at all. “Why?” he asked. 

Adrien froze at the question. He didn’t know what to say because he knew there wasn’t a correct answer. And not answering at all wasn’t acceptable either. He was going to lose here no matter what. 

He shouldn’t have said anything other than he would try harder.

Well, if he was screwed no matter what, might as well go with the truth.

“I think I’ve been depressed lately,” he admitted. 

“You’re not qualified to make that assessment.”

“I suppose not,” Adrien conceded. But would his father offer to send him to someone who was? 

Most likely not.

“What do you have to be depressed about?” Gabriel asked coldly. 

And something within Adrien just snapped. Whether it was his sleep deprivation, being beyond overworked both physically and mentally, or his longing to drop all the masks, or some combination of all of it, Adrien didn’t know. 

“Are you kidding me right now?” Adrien demanded. “Every second of every day of my life is planned without my input or consideration. I have no control. But I do all of it anyway. I train for national fencing competitions, get perfect scores, work I-don’t-know-how-many hours a week modeling for you. I have no space to breathe, let alone enjoy anything. I feel like a programmed robot going through a routine!”

The room fell into silence as Adrien’s tirade ended abruptly. Every muscle was locked and tense, waiting for punishment and condemnation. And despite that, Adrien couldn’t bring himself to regret it because, well, he was screwed either way at this point, so he might as well go down with a bang.

“Are you finished?” his father asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but Adrien flinched anyway. 

“Yes, father,” he said meekly. 

Gabriel removed his glasses and began cleaning them. “Clearly, I have expected too much of you.”

Adrien knew better than to find any relief in that conclusion. 

“I will arrange with Nathalie to have your schedule adjusted. She will add additional recreational activities suitable to a boy of your age, and reduce your current obligations significantly.” 

Which translated to they would remove him from school and schedule his so called free time with activities that Adrien had no interest in or with other teenagers he didn’t know.

“Father, I appreciate your concern,” he said formally. “That will not be necessary. I was having a weak moment. I will work harder,” he promised, though Adrien knew he wouldn’t be able to manage much more at the moment. 

His father nodded. “I look forward to seeing notes of your improved performance this Friday.” 

And now he had five days instead of two full weeks. 

Adrien wanted to scream. And he did scream later that night when he had escaped to Nino’s bedroom for the tenth time that week. He ranted and complained about the unfairness of it all, and Nino just listened with rapt attention.

“Can I at least deck him, dude? Please?” Nino asked when Adrien had finally run out of steam. “Just once? He won’t even remember!” 

Adrien laughed. “It won’t help anything.”

“I might feel better,” Nino disagreed. “You might, too.” 

And then an akuma alert sounded from both of their phones. 

They both groaned, but a second later, they had both transformed and were leaping out of Nino’s bedroom window.

The akuma was a porcupine the size of a bus. It’s spines did not look remotely friendly. That first impression solidified tenfold when the akuma started hurling the spines off its back like javelins in a jousting tournament. 

But despite his initial misgivings, the fight could not have gone more smoothly. 

Ananta had barreled both he and Ladybug out of the way, and helped them identify the akumatized item pretty much instantly. The whole encounter lasted about three minutes. 

But when he turned to Ladybug and Ananta for their traditional fist bump, Ananta had pushed past the offered fist and tackled him in a hug. Adrien returned the embrace with a surprised grunt. A second later he felt Nino’s quaking form in his arms. 

Apparently, the fight hadn’t been all that smooth afterall. 

“How many loops?” Adrien asked softly. 

“You don’t want to know,” Nino sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Ananta,” Adrien growled.

“1,674,” Nino admitted.

Ladybug tried to reassure them both with small hands on their shoulders. Nino just pulled her into the hug, too, and didn’t let go. 

“I’m really glad you’re both okay,” he cried and then he dissolved into wracking sobs again. Chat Noir and Ladybug both held him tightly.

But Ladybug couldn’t stay, as she was about to time out. She pulled away from their group hug with a concerned frown. 

“Are you going to be okay with him?” 

“Don’t worry,” Adrien assured her. “I’ll take him home and make sure he’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry I have to run,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien said again, before wrapping one of Nino’s arms over his shoulder and vaulting them both up to the nearest rooftop. 

He then ducked them both into a secluded alleyway that Chat Noir had used to transform before. Nino hadn’t stopped crying the entire time. 

“Nino, can you hear me?” 

Nino nodded.

“You need to lose the transformation, so we can feed Sass. Can you do that?” 

Nino managed to follow the instructions through hysterical sobs. Adrien followed suit and both kwami’s ate a slice of Plagg’s cheese. It was a sign of how serious everything was that neither kwami complained. Adrien transformed again.

“Okay Nino. You need to transform again, and then start a loop. Stay in that loop until you’re able to stop crying, you got it? It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will be here with you the whole time.”

Nino was still shaking and crying, but he managed to choke out the transformation phrase and called for his second chance. 

Instantly, Ananta stood before him, infinitely calmer than he had been just a second prior. 

“Woah,” Adrien said. “That’s weird. How long?” 

“Just a few hours,” Nino said, his voice was quiet, but it was steady. Adrien wrapped him into a hug. 

“Thank you,” Nino whispered. 

“As you have told me many many times, as many times as you need, whenever you need.”

“I don’t know how you have dealt with it so well,” Nino said. 

“I mean, you don’t remember all the times I was as much of mess as you were just a few seconds ago.” 

“I remember you freaking out about learning Ladybug’s identity,” Nino countered. “I… I didn’t understand why you didn’t want me to use it for battles. I… get it now.” 

“I’m sorry,” Adrien whispered. 

Nino shook his head. “The alternative would have been so much worse, dude. You would have lost this one.” 

“Thank you for saving our lives then. I’m sorry for what it has cost you.” 

Nino shrugged. “I think I’ll be okay. Can I keep it for a few more days? Abuse it a bit?” 

Adrien nodded. “Yeah of course. Abuse it like crazy and it will put space between you and what happened.”

Nino nodded, and actually smiled. And for the first time, Adrien was positive things would be okay. 

“I already have some ideas,” Nino said.  

“Do I want to know?” Adrien asked. 

Nino’s grin was wolffish. That was a no.

“Have fun, dude.”

… 

Nino still felt shaky the next morning. It was too easy to close his eyes and see his best friend impaled through the chest, his green eyes wide in shock. But it almost worked out in his favor because it hadn’t taken any convincing for his parents to agree he should stay home from school. They thought he was coming down with something - that he had chills. 

He didn’t correct them. 

He just rocked himself back and forth, nursing the tea his mother had brought up to him, and waited for both of them to leave for work. The second the door had closed behind them, he had bolted out his window as Ananta. 

The freerunning helped, but it wasn’t enough. He had just gotten too good at it - he could leap across rooftops almost without thinking now, and certainly without any fear. What could seem terrifying after everything he had seen the day before? 

And that was how Nino found himself on top of the Eiffel Tower staring down at the ground below - the ground that according to his best friend was 324 meters below him. Adrien had said at one point long before Nino had ever known of his friend’s superhero identity that it would take just over eight seconds to fall to the ground, probably a little longer because of air resistance. 

Nino had never thought anything of why Adrien had taken the time to calculate that. He had just assumed Adrien was a nerd who liked physics and had too much time on his hands. Now, he found himself wondering if Adrien had calculated that for an entirely different reason. 

Nino activated the second chance and leapt off the tower backwards with an ecstatic whoop. He slid his fingers across the bracelet five seconds into his fall, and rematerialized at the top of the tower giggling. 

Now, that was base jumping. He performed the trick dozens of times diving off the tower in different angles and positions. 

He knew Sass did not approve. The kwami had said as much when he mentioned the idea this morning. Adrien likely wouldn’t either, but Nino would only tell him well after the fact. 

But the adrenaline rush was exactly what he needed to wipe away the memories from the day before. 

Next, he had broken through his homeroom’s window, and swept Alya up in his arms. He definitely noticed Marinette’s disapproving glare, and Adrien burying his face in his hands, but he didn’t have to care about this. In four and a half minutes, this would have never happened. 

“Ask me to tell you that I love you,” he said. 

She arched her eyebrows. “Am I going to regret this?” 

“Nope! No repercussions today.” 

“Tell me that you love me,” she said, her face alight in a grin. 

“I love you,” he said. 

“How much?” 

“More than a superhero,” he said. 

She smiled, and her fingers locked around his neck. Then he kissed her hard. The whole class was catcalling behind them, and Ms. Bustier was trying to restore order. 

Alya was giggling against his lips. “I can’t believe you.” 

“I’m just getting started,” he promised. 

He went through hundreds more loops abducting Alya from parts of her day. It was different every time, and he was insanely grateful that she played along as soon as she realized it was him each time without even knowing that he was having a tough time. 

Or maybe, she did know. Like, she had covered Ananta’s exploits the day before on the Ladyblog. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read the post, but someone had no doubt had caught the tearful group hug at the end of the battle, and Alya would have had a better guess than most what that likely meant. 

And so when he showed up as Ananta and revealed himself to be her boyfriend she would know that had been him. 

She didn’t ask questions or demand explanations. She just laughed and kissed him over and over. She let him abduct her from their dreary classes over and over and bury his face in her curls and wrap himself in her protective embrace until his senses were overwhelmed with all things Alya.

God, he loved her so much. 

The tricky part was then trying to escape from each of their teachers. Surprisingly Mendeliev had been the easiest to slip around, but Bustier had given him quite the run around. 

Once the school day was over he had followed Adrien’s limo home. He had intended to spend a few loops just being stupid with Adrien, but once there… well, he had been wanting to give Gabriel a piece of his mind since Nino had befriended his son. He had only held back because Adrien wanted him to, and Gabriel was terrifying. If only one of those things had been true, Nino thinks he would have pushed it ages ago. 

Ananta set the timer from the rooftop of the mansion and then broke through the front doors. 

Nathalie jumped to her feet, but he ignored her and stormed straight for Gabriel’s office. 

Gabriel rose to his feet more slowly than Nathalie had to face his intruder. 

“Gabriel Agreste, I’m here to tell you that you are the absolute worst parent.”

The older man gestured Nathalie away from the door. She stepped back, but she did not close the door. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave,” the stoic man said, barely raising his voice, which Nino found infuriating. 

“No! Not until I’ve said my piece.”

Gabriel took a visibly annoyed breath. “You’re clearly a teenager.” 

“Your point?”

“You’re hardly qualified to judge my parenting approaches.” 

Nino wanted to pull his hair out.

“Except that I am because I’m the one who picks Adrien back up everytime you tear him down!”

Gabriel considered him stoically for a moment, his hands hidden behind his back. 

“Mr. Lahiffe, I have already banned you from the premises. Your adopting an anonymous persona does not negate those rules.” 

“Your rules are stupid and unfair! Adrien is amazing! He gets the highest grades! He has an insane work ethic, and is always kind and respectful to everyone! He does everything you ask of him! And then he does more! He’s an Olympic level fencer and is fluent in three languages!

“And somehow, you still find him wanting. You never give him the time of day. You never tell him you’re proud of him or that you love him! At best, you ignore him, and at worst you take the time to point out every tiny fault!” 

“He internalizes everything you say, everything you ask for. He tears himself to pieces trying to meet your impossible expectations, he buries his struggles and doubts, and you don’t even acknowledge his effort or his love for you.” 

Nino was shaking in rage at this point. Gabriel still seemed unaffected. 

“Are you finished?” The man asked indifferently. 

“No! I’m not! I don’t know if you know how much you’ve harmed him! How many times I’ve been legit worried that he was going to hurt himself or give up! 

“Somehow, he’s been able to survive it. But not because of any of the crap  you’ve taught him about being strong and exceptional. He’s just that resilient!” 

“Which is a good thing because he’s also Chat Noir!”

Gabriel’s lips tightened and his eyes narrowed, and Nino wanted to run a victory lap for finally getting a reaction from the asshole. 

Nino barreled forward. “He manages being a superhero in between all the hoops and circus you run him through! And if he’s been struggling more than normal lately, it’s only because Hawkmoth has been putting him through the wringer.” 

“Nathalie!” He called. 

Nathalie marched into the room so fast, Nino was convinced she had been waiting right outside the open door the entire time listening in. 

“Didn’t we eliminate the possibility of Adrien being Chat Noir during Gorizilla?” 

Nathalie typed something into her tablet and handed it to him. 

“It looks like we did not get facial confirmation, sir. The person we presumed to be Adrien was wearing a helmet.” 

Gabriel removed his glasses and began cleaning them. “My own son, this entire time.” 

Nino felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at Gabriel’s emotionless words that felt like a prison sentence.

Nino’s miraculous beeped. 

Gabriel’s stormy grey eyes shot toward the sound, and Nino took an involuntary step back.

And then Adrien’s father did something Nino never would have predicted. He lunged forward and struck Nino in the knee, and grabbed for the snake miraculous.

Nino dropped to the ground in agony, and jerked his arm just out of reach behind his back. 

“Second chance!” Nino screamed, sliding his other hand over the switch, grateful that he had so much practice in the last few days that the motion was automatic. 

He was back on the roof of the Agreste Mansion. His knee cap was fine, but his heart was roaring in his ears. 

That had not gone as he had been expecting. Not at all. 

Gabriel had actually attacked him and tried to take his miraculous. 

Nino wasn’t sure what it all meant. But he knew it couldn’t be good. 

...

[august-bleeds-red]

Texas Heat

Alpha!Tommy x omega!Reader (AFAB). When you find yourself trapped within the Hewitt family’s web of murder, violence and pain, the last thing you expect to do is fall in love.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

~

The Texas sun beats mercilessly down on the back of your neck, the air thick and slow as dark molasses. You tied your sweater around your waist, but even that was too much for your sweating skin, so now it just hangs limply from your fingers.

 You manage to hitch a lift from a family of three on a cross-state road trip – the parents were both betas, the little girl in the back unpresented. You tell them you’re heading back to college from visiting your family, that your car packed up some three miles back. You also tell them you’re a beta. Two truths and a lie.

 They pull into a small gas station in Travis County called Cele Community Centre to fill up, while you step inside the sore to ask to use the phone. A middle-aged woman with cats-eye spectacles stands behind the counter, a couple of leather-clad bikers sitting at a table littered with beer bottles.

 The phone’s busted, but when you explain about your car, she offers a different option. Her brother’s got a tow truck – he could go pick up your car and bring it back for repair. It’s too good an offer to refuse, so you wave goodbye to the beta family and take a seat in the diner. The woman – Luda May Hewitt, she introduces herself – gives you a soda on the house and asks you about yourself. You tell her about your parents, your brother in the army, your little sister about to graduate high school. By the time her brother arrives – a unkempt, bespectacled man she calls Monty – you feel as though you’ve been talking to a matronly aunt for the past hour. She’s kind, with good old-fashioned Southern values, and so when she asks if you’d like to join them for supper, you accept. Monty says your car needs a new valve or something, which he has back at the homestead, so you hop in the cab of his truck next to Luda May.

 The Hewitt family home is a large farmhouse, with sprawling fields surrounding and a dilapidated garage. Monty parks up in the front yard and disappears, presumably to find the missing piece for your car. You shoulder your bag and follow Luda May inside the house. It’s not particularly clean, but your mother raised you to be polite, so you accept some sweet tea and some homemade biscuits.

 Shortly, another man appears in the kitchen – this one younger and more well-presented than Monty - who introduces himself as Sheriff Hoyt. A rough, brutish scent of alpha pheromones follows him through the door, but you know by instinct its not from him.

 “Tommy,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at a hulking figure beyond the doorway. “Come say hello to our guest.”

 The person who steps into the room has to be the largest man you’ve never seen. Not only is he tall – at least six and a half feet – but he’s also broad; wide shoulders, muscular arms, and a chest like a barrel. Despite the suppressants you’ve been careful to keep concealed in your bag, your glands tingle pleasantly as his scent washes over you. Your nose recognises earth, leather and sweat, but your finer-tuned olfactory senses catch hints of sandalwood, charcoal, and the unmistakable metallic tang of blood. You contribute this to the butcher’s apron he’s wearing tied around his thick waist – the dark brown stains a clear indication of animal slaughter. While this doesn’t exactly strike you as comforting, you can’t deny his scent is . . . appealing.

 You focus on his face for just a moment, not wanting to stare. His dark hair is long and wavy, most of his face concealed beneath a crude leather mask, revealing only his eyes, forehead and a small glimpse of chapped lips. The space where his nose would be beneath the mask is strangely flat, leading you to suspect some kind of physical deformity. His shadowed eyes catch yours and you look away in embarrassment.

 “This here’s Thomas, my boy,” Luda May says. “Tommy, meet Y/N.”

 “Hey,” you rise to your feet and hold out a hand. Even at your full height, you barely come up to his chest. “Nice to meet you, Thomas.”

 He doesn’t speak or move to shake your hand, but his right-hand fingers flex at his side, so you can tell he wants to. Moreover, you can smell it on him. The pheromones he’s giving off betray his interest, and your face flushes at the thought that such an impressive alpha’s attention is directed at you. Eventually, you lower your hand and return to your seat, taking a sip of tea to hide your awkwardness.

 “So,” Hoyt says, sitting down opposite you and placing his hat on the table. “Y/N, what are you?”

 You know what he’s trying to say, even if the question comes across as a little rude.

 “I’m a beta, sir,” you say.

 “Seems the whole dang state’s beta these days,” he says, leaning back and accepting a glass of tea from Luda May. “Tommy’s pretty much the only alpha ‘round these parts, and as for omegas, forget it.”

 Praying that your suppressants are doing their job, you nod along with his words and try not to focus on Thomas, who’s still standing like a full-door draft excluder in the corridor. You wonder if his senses are strong enough to tell that you’re lying. Surely if they were, he’d say something, wouldn’t he? Such a big strong alpha like him, wouldn’t be able to help himself.

 Big strong alpha . . .

 The thought makes you shiver slightly, and you notice Thomas shift where he stands. Covering your neck as casually as you can with one hand, you pretend to be intently interested in what Hoyt is saying. As he’s illustrating the hardships of being the county’s only sheriff, Monty appears, wiping his hands on a dirty rag.

 “Well, hope you didn’t have nowhere to be anytime soon, ‘cause that tin can sure ain’t going without a new carburetor.”

 Your heart sinks – the car was a gift from your parents when you got into UT, and you’d taken good care of it since. How had it sustained so much damage without you realising?

 “D’you know where I can get a new one?”

 He blows his cheeks out. “Nowhere ‘round here. Next town, maybe; ‘bout twenty miles north.”

 You mentally count the small handful of notes folded in your wallet – your mom had given you $50 to get back to college, enough for fuel and food along the way, plus extra to stay in a motel. Certainly not enough for such a hefty repair.

 “Course,” Hoyt says, a strange smile playing at the corner of his lips, “Uncle Monty’d be more’n happy to drive through for one tomorrow, wouldn’t ya, Monty?”

 Monty nods slowly. “Be my pleasure.”

 A strange tension has fallen over the small room, setting the hairs on the back of your neck a-prickle. Hoyt’s eyes are burning into you with a fierce intensity, almost . . . hunger, Monty bearing a smile, too leery to be comforting. You’re wondering if you’ve made a mistake in coming here, when Thomas moves from the shadows, his scent passing over you. Your shoulders drop a little, his presence proving an inexplicable reassurance to you. You know it’s your hormones talking; with such an alpha nearby, you’re safe. It takes a nudge from the logical side of your brain to remind you that biology is not fact, and you could be very, very far from safe with these people.

 You clear your throat, mouth suddenly dry.

 “Well, that’s awful kind of you. Is there, um . . . a motel or something I could stay at tonight?”

 “Motel?” Luda May laughs. “Don’t be so silly, honey – you’ll stay here.”

 You turn to look at her, her warm, motherly gaze refilling some of the certainly draining from you. Maybe you’re just being paranoid. After all, you’re a young woman – an omega, no less – so it’s no wonder that Hoyt and Monty might act strangely around you, whether they realise it or not. As for Thomas, well . . .

 “I don’t want to be a bother, ma’am.”

 “Oh hush, you’re no bother at all, and call me Luda.” She takes an old apron from a hook on the wall and nods towards the door. “Tommy’ll show you to the spare room and then you can help me start dinner.”

 Thomas looks as surprised by the idea of being alone with you as you are, his gargantuan posture stiffening. His eyes flit from Luda May to you, unsure of what to do.  

 “Go on, boy, m’sure she don’t bite,” Hoyt chuckles.

 But does he? Your mind races as you lift your bag and follow Thomas from the kitchen. His heavy footsteps make the floorboards shake as he ascends the stairs, decidedly not looking anywhere in your direction. The room he takes you to is small, barely more than a box room, with a narrow cot bed, a chest of drawers, and a dirty sink built into the wall. The white ceramic has been long since hidden beneath a layer of brown grime, and the light from the window is filtered through what looks like years of dirt.

 You turn your head to thank Thomas, but the words die on your tongue when you see how close he is. His chest is heaving, and you suspect he’s . . . smelling you. Shit. You remember the mace your mom forced you to take with you, stowed safely away at the bottom of your pack. There’s no way you could get to it before he could grab you. He’s so big – his hands could easily encompass your entire head – you’re sure he could do irreparable damage without breaking so much as a sweat. His eyes – how had you not noticed how blue they are? – are fixed on you, all trace of shyness gone. You raise a hand – to do what, you’ve no idea – and stifle a shriek when he takes hold of your arm with surprising agility. Your blood stills as he lifts your wrist to his face, the air whistling through his nostrils beneath the mask as he breathes in your scent. He must know – there’s no way he can’t. He must either be the strongest alpha you’ve ever encountered, or on the brink of his rut, to detect your omega scent through your suppressants. Or both.

 Part of you wants to run, to scream for help, but you can’t; your legs won’t move.

 “Please . . .” you whisper, though you’re not entirely sure what you’re pleading for. Your eyes meet for one long, electrifying moment.

 “Tommy, get down here! We got trespassers!”

 Thomas drops your hand like it’s scalding hot, disappearing from the room and down the stairs after Hoyt’s harsh commands. You stand rooted to the spot, your heart beating a brand against your ribcage, and the bed creaks ominously beneath you as you drop down onto it. Fishing in your bag, you pull out the thin blister pack of pills, swallowing one dry. You have enough to get you safely back to Austin – you’ll just have to hope your stay here is a short one.

~

Comments are greatly appreciated because I’m a needy little trashbag.

[skellebonez]

14. With a possessed monkie kid? (Doesn't have to be my au, i just crave possession stuff rn fbsbfb)

Oh you gave me so much power. I have too much power. I had to write this ASAP before Friday, I did not want the idea I had to be tempered by what happens in the finale. Since this is supposed to be set a couple weeks after what could possibly happen. Spoilers if you haven’t read the summary for S2E10.

This may not be in your Possession AU, but it takes a little inspiration from it because I love it!

Warning: vaguely described injuries, blood. Reminder that I think Macaque can be severely hurt but is immortal to the point he can heal any injury.

Am I scaring you?

“Hey- don’t scream it’s just me- You guys seen MK around?”

Despite Macaque’s request, Pigsy and Tang continued to scream. It wasn’t surprising, really. It wasn’t every day that an enemy your friend/person you see as a son just revealed to you a couple weeks earlier had attacked him twice in ways that had left him pretty messed up and questioning his choices and abilities just pops their body from the shoulders up out of the shadows on your wall without warning. Doubly so when very shortly after learning all this that person does a heel face turn and joins your side without technically joining it against everyone’s will and is still kind of an asshole.

The immortal monkey needed to work on that last bit. Maybe he could upgrade from “asshole” to “jerk face” in the eyes of Team MK if he brought drinks. He didn’t really care though, he just wanted to make his own life easier. At least Wukong had been... somewhat open to letting him stick around, given MK convinced them to talk when they were too exhausted after the giant mech battle to actually fight each other, and that made their joint training sessions with MK much easier. That still took getting used to.

"Has MK been acting... off to you lately?" Macaque asked after Tang and Pigsy stopped screaming and levied him with unhappy glowers at the intrusion. One more note to add on the ‘things he should probably stop doing if people want to not hate him’ list, announcing himself better. "I know I'm kinda knew to this whole ‘technically not being a bad guy and caring a bit about other people’ thing and all but he seems..."

‘Not being a bad guy’. Nailed it.

"Dead inside?" Tang deadpanned. "Yeah, we kinda noticed."

“A little more blunt than I was gonna put it but yeah,” Macaque stepped out of the shadows fully, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as Pigsy grabbed a wooden spoon and held it. A warning that he would not hesitate to chuck it at him at the first excuse he needed. “He’s been acting odd around both me and Wukong. Which, you know, given everything that happened I get it, but he hasn’t come to his last three training sessions at all.”

This, unlike everything else he had said, seemed to make the two men pause.

“What do you mean?” Tang asked, pushing his glasses up and looking at him oddly. “He’s been leaving for those on time like normal.”

“Ah, well, you see,” Macaque chose his next few words carefully. Being honest, truly honest without theatrics or planning in advance to help him, was a new undertaking for him so he stumbled through it. “The first time it happened Wukong astral projected to him and they talked and he seemed ok enough, like he just needed a break. The next time it happened I kinda... followed him? Just to make sure he was ok, no evil shadow business! He just kinda wandered downtown the entire time, looking like he was lost without being lost. If that makes sense. But yesterday he did the same thing so I did the same thing and I found him just kinda... sitting in front of the entrance to DBK’s old hideout?”

Instead of making the two men more concerned, this seemed to make them both deflate.

“Yeah...” Pigsy said softly, lowering the spoon just a bit. “He’s been doing that. We, uh... we had Mei follow him a couple times on deliveries because he was acting off. He did the sitting thing a few days ago too, just while he was on break or if he finished his deliveries early. He’s been doing that a lot lately, like he wants to get things done fast so he can do whatever he’s doing.”

“But he isn’t even doing anything!” Tang said, gripping his hair with one hand. “It’s like he’s just... sitting? Like he just wants to be alone maybe? Sandy’s been talking to him, trying to help him with the cats and everything, but he thinks he needs to see his therapist instead... I think he’s right.”

Macaque frowned for a second before forcing a wide smile on his face. “I thought so. I think Sandy may have the right idea too, you should talk to him. OK BYE-E!”

Before the two men could react he fell backward into the shadows and dissipated. He had somewhere to be.

~

Just sitting... no. Macaque was sure of it now as he watched MK sitting in front of the hole that still had not been filled since DBK had left the Flaming Foundry, cloaked in shadow behind littered debris. His conversation with the Monkie Kid’s elders confirmed the immortal’s suspicions.

MK was waiting for something.

And that meant something was deeply wrong.

He hadn’t lied to the duo in the noodle shop, but he hadn’t told them the full truth either. Macaque had been following MK for the last week, already knew about Mei himself, partly out of curiosity at first but also out of Wukong’s own insistence. He was worried for his successor and knew that Macaque could keep a quieter eye on him than he ever could, and Wukong... Wukong and MK, despite their renewed training, were not on the best of terms right then. Not after he learned what the vacation really was, not after he learned that his mentor knew about the White Bone Spirit the entire time. They were still close! Closer than MK was to Macaque when he trained him at least, just. Strained.

Watching his two teachers finally talk for once and work out what actually happened all those centuries ago, showing that Wukong wasn’t just an unflappable hero but a person who made mistakes and had worked to better himself and would continue to do so because he was a person, probably softened that a bit. He was still upset but much less so in the week after the defeat... but this last week it was like all that had been undone too quickly. It started slowly, but after four days it was like they were back to the day he learned the truth but so much worse.

For the last three days MK was so quiet, reserved, completely unlike the loud and excited guy Macaque knew and like he just wanted to be left alone to sit and not interact with anyone. Tang said he was acting like he was “dead inside”.

That... wasn’t an entirely incorrect descriptor. It was like he was hollow and just going about the motions. Or like he had closed off everything inside of himself for some reason.

Wukong was terrified. He’d been talking to MK every day he didn’t come to the island to train via astral projection, and Macaque had just watched another conversation between the two end half an hour earlier. Macaque tried the same thing but didn’t get nearly as far as Wukong had been, and talking to him like this seemed to make him less likely to just up and leave (the few times Wukong had just come to MK instead made it clear how uncomfortable he had been, ending the conversations with a quick jump from the staff before Wukong could convince him to stay, so they decided to go with what made him more comfortable to find out what was happening).

So that was how they operated. Macaque watched MK. Made sure he was at least physically ok. Wukong talked to MK, didn’t force him to come to the island and wouldn’t show up unannounced. But despite them communicating more than they ever had it was like he was telling Wukong less than he ever had before. The one thing they didn’t tell him was what Macaque was doing.

“Am I scaring you?” MK suddenly said, loud enough for only Macaque to hear. His tone was... wrong. “You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are, Six-Ear.”

“What?” Macaque shot up and out of the shadows, eyes wide. MK had never called him that before.

The man before him stood, back to him and headband and coat oddly still in the blowing wind.

And then he jumped.

“MK!” Macaque reacted without thinking, diving down the hole after his Wukong’s student. He knew that he would be just fine, he could handle being thrown into a mountain so he could handle jumping down a giant hole, but the sight was too sudden and horrific for him to remember that at the moment.

Except he wasn’t there. When Macaque landed, the crash of his boots hitting the rocky ground echoing through the artificial cavern, he was alone.

Something was even more deeply wrong than he could have ever imagined.

“MK! Kid! Kiddo!?” He called out, all six of his ears out to catch any hint of movement. “Come on, you told me off for calling you Kiddo just last week, get angry at me so I know you’re ok! Tell me you’re a Monkey Man or something!” Macaque tried to keep his tone light, words lighter with an awkward laugh at the end of his sentences, but it only served to make the sinking feeling in his stomach worse. The opposite effect he wanted to accomplish. “Say something damn it!”

Silence. Everything was... silent. The only thing Macaque could hear was his own breathing, his own heartbeat, the rushing of blood in his ears... but nothing else.

Then a laugh. Low and soft and wrong and Macaque’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake.

He knew that laugh.

He also knew the feeling of the staff. He felt it during their first battle, when MK pulled every ounce of lingering power to defeat him. He felt it during that climactic encounter with Wukong, when his eye was damaged beyond repair.

He felt it now, as it jutted through his stomach without warning. Covered in blood.

Huh... that was kind of new, actually. He hadn’t felt a new sensation like that in so long.

The staff was pulled back and out of him quickly, driving him to his feet as he held the new wound and listened and nearly imperceptible footsteps made their way around him. How had he not heard... no. No he knew now. Now it was obvious what had happened.

Why did his wound burn like that? Why couldn’t he stand? He should be able to move, he wasn’t this weak!

“He beat you,” He groaned out, coughing as he tried to stay upright on his knees. “You should be-”

“Dead?” MK asked, voice his own but tone completely different. The black on his shoes were blue. As Macaque looked up he could see most of the color on his outfit had faded to white with blue accents. His eyes, the only think about him physically to be different, a brilliant blue to match. His headband was gone from around his head, instead used to help slick his hair back and out of his face. “How can you kill what already isn’t alive? No, I just waited in this body until I was able to influence him enough to make him... compliant. Much easier that way, actually.”

Either his vision went fuzzy or the world around them did, MK moving closer at a speed that shouldn��t be possible. His hands were grasping Macaque’s scarf tightly... this felt far too familiar.

“If you had been the dragon girl or anyone else I might have just killed you, you know,” MK’s voice said as he tilted his head to the side, an almost playful smile on his face. “But this is much more fun, and preferable. You can relay the message for me, once the poison I coated the staff in wears off and you heal anyway.”

Macaque was dropped unceremoniously onto his back, letting out an agonized yelp as he hit the ground. MK stomped on his wound, earning another scream.

“By then myself and this body will be long gone,” MK chuckled, stepping over Macaque completely to walk further into the foundry. “I must thank you, you played into my hands so much better than I ever planned on. Getting you all to work together to ‘beat me’ was just far too easy.” He stopped, turning to smirk at the immortal shuddering on the ground.

“I haven’t had a body this powerful in centuries,” the White Bone Spirit said with a laugh before vanishing in a fuzz of his vision and a wisp of cold air.

[junicai]

Relationship with SuperM

➣ BAEKHYUN ☾ baekaria

before being thrown into a supergroup together, aria and baekhyun hadn’t really spoken 

they’d seen each other around the building, and aria was an avid supporter of exo so of course she knew who he was but she wasn’t expecting him to know who she was 

so when aria walked into the practice room and was greeted by baekhyun waving her over and calling her name

sue her if she was a little stunned 

their relationship was a little stilted at the beginning

between the age gap, and baekhyun not having a girl member in a group before, it took a few weeks for the two of them to figure out their dynamic and where they fit around each other 

eventually though

they settled into a pretty comfortable situation

baekhyun tries to put her at ease as much as possible 

there is 8 years in the difference, but you’d swear that its less than half 

although he’s playful and generous with the teasing like he is to other members 

he’s careful to avoid certain topics when it comes to aria, just out of respect for her and not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable

this came to fruition after kai unknowingly made a small comment on how aria “must have been hungry”, considering how fast she was eating

baekhyun knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but he watched aria slowly put down her chopsticks and reach for the bottle of water beside her instead

he didn’t see her eat for the rest of the evening

did kai get in trouble? no but he did get hit lightly over the head

when aria does something cool - like a spin or a trick - baekhyun is the first to say “that’s my child. i raised her, look how well i taught her” 

ten: “heY-”

tldr: although they’re not the closest, aria’s slowly grown more comfortable around him, and he’s looking out for her all the time 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

200829 Knowing Brothers: when baekhyun brought up the members of superm all showering together to get closer quickly, heechul quickly pounced on aria - the girl slowly moving to put her head in her hands. 

“and where was aria during all of this? don’t tell me you brought her to?”

baekhyun: “well of course we did-” 

aria: “NO I STAYED OUTSIDE HE’S A LIAR DON’T LISTEN TO HIM!”

*cue baekhyun laughing his ass off*

➣ TAEMIN ☾ arimin

aria thought she was going to die

there was absolutely no plausible reason that she should be in a group with The Taemin

he was highkey the reason why she had even accepted her position in sm at the very beginning of her training

this man convinced a fifteen year old to give up the sport she’d been doing her entire life 

his impact  (*¯ ³¯*)���

please stand by while aria tosses herself off a bridge

she was So Formal at the beginning

he honestly was the member she took the longest time to warm up to - because she had idolized him for so long

will still refer to him as taemin-ssi occasionally, but now its less a formality and more of a tease

this boy was shook when he found out how young aria was - mark and lucas he can deal with because at least they’re 1999, but aria....

“2000??? 2000?” 

he said :O

despite their rocky start, they’re quite comfortable around each other, especially after spending a few nights rooming together over the tour

does aria still look for his validation in a lot of her work? yes, but she’s more open about asking for it now then she would have been 

taemin definitely doesn’t have a favourite kid and it’s definitely not aria no why would you think that

aria really out here collecting parents like pokémon 

gotta catch em all~

he looks out for her a lot during their schedules, mainly because he knows what its like to be the youngest in a group and how it can feel a little like you don’t really have a place there

so he always makes sure to include her where possible 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

sitting in a circle in a waiting room while mark toy-ed around with the guitar in his lap, aria sat curled in the corner, humming lightly to herself as taemin sang softly along with mark playing “view”.

quietly, she began to sing soft backing harmonies along with taemin, her eyes still attached to her phone in her hands.

when she felt the device being tugged out of her hands and her being pulled upright by another hand on her arm, she looked up to see taemin smiling brightly, still singing 

cue the impromptu concert of a lifetime: with god tier vocals

➣ KAI ☾ kairia

so, they met

and kai just kinda went: mine.

and that was that really 

its like a puppy refusing to give up its favourite chew toy 

“nooo but its my turn to room with aria :(”

never really did the whole awkward, getting to know each other phase? 

not that aria had any real say in it

but jongin point blank refused to engage in small talk with her

so they ended up spending their nights on the superm tour talking about stuff ranging from why the sky is blue to why aria stopped ice skating

she started crying and he did not handle it well, bless him

although he’s super chill and fun to be around

he’s also the only non-nct member that seriously scolds her 

when he found her in a practice room lying on the ground (she was Resting, thank you very much) at three in the morning, he dragged her out without a word and brought her back to her dorms in silence 

aria knew he was mad at her, but she thought it was because he had to borderline carry her four blocks down to the nct dorms 

“no you idiot, im angry because you thought that instead of coming to one of us for help with the bits you’re struggling with, you figured hey. let’s pass out instead.” 

he’s so affectionate with her

you know how lucas and kai have Intense Brothers Energy

well aria has that, little sister vibe that makes kai want to wrap her in a blanket and carry her everywhere

she’d hate that, if he tried that she’d scream (he did try that, this is coming from past experience)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

kai chucking aria like a cannon ball into the pool during the filming of mtopia when she refused his hugs.

“oppa, oppa no im sorry ill give you all the hugs you want, oppa, JONGIN-OPPA NO NO NO NO -”

*sploosh*

➣ TAEYONG ☾ ariyong

taeyong took one look at aria the first time she showed up for group practice and immediately adopted her (not literally but he would if he could)

eomma meets highly protective brother meets life coach type beat?

so so soft for her its sickening 

says he doesn’t have favourites and will then spend an hour cooking for aria because she’s been in the studio the whole day and he knows she hasn’t eaten yet

when aria was given a duet to do for the sm stages, she had to pick another member to do it with and her first choice was taeyong 

she always has said that taeyong is one of the pillars keeping her upright and sane - without him she wasn’t sure if she would have been able to complete her training 

because of all the schedules they share together, if aria isn’t rooming with mark then she’s definitely rooming with taeyong

whenever she does his makeup (more often than you’d think) she point blank refuses to cover his scar, even when he asks her to do so

“please? i don’t like it.” “*gasp* how dare you.”

sleepy aria! snuggling into taeyong’s shoulder when a schedule ran late!

he gets uncomfy when the stylists put her in too revealing clothes, and has spoken to them on numerous occasions about dressing her in age-appropriate attire, no matter how “sexy” the concept might be

he keeps little bags of sugar-dusted strawberry sweets in his bag incase she forgets to eat and feels faint after the last time (they used to be blueberry flavoured but he heard donghyuck throwing out any and all “blueberry-contaminated” food one evening)

taeyong doesn’t tolerate hate towards aria, especially in person, so he always makes sure to sit down the line from her so that he can see when people skip her intentionally 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

taeyong had just been awarded the single bedroom on the last night of the mtopia series, and was staring off into the corner looking rather uncomfortable. aria, who was meant to be rooming with baekhyun, looked over and saw his mouth curled downwards slightly. 

“baekhyun-oppa, is it ok if i room with taeyongie-oppa tonight? i ran out of my tablets, and he has some in his bag..”

baekhyun looked down at her with a small smile and agreed, while the edited captions on the video appeared with the words, “a cute maknae asking to room with a younger member..”

➣ TEN ☾ tenaria

Whipped™

so so gone for her its upsetting actually

yangyang and aria share the position of his baby

except aria willingly accepts the title while yangyang would rather fling himself from a rooftop

ten’s instagram is half his cats, half miyazu aria

he posts her dancing practice on his story a lot, with a variety of captions ranging from “thats my baby  ♡( ◡‿◡ )” to “yah that’s not right…(눈_눈)”

such an enabler for her bad ideas

aria wants to go shopping at 4am? ten agrees, now they’re sitting by han river eating ice cream

pls he’s gonna get her in so much trouble one day

when they walk together, ten likes to take her hand and put it in his pocket

its under the pretense of not wanting her to get lost

he just wants to hold her hand

yes he has lost her in a shopping mall, and NO it wasn’t his fault

ten always complains that they never have schedules together and he misses his baby

“we have superm-” “I NEVER SEE YOUUUU (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ”

if they’re in the same room ten is either watching her out of the corner of his eye, or is actually wrapped around her like a boa constrictor

hugs n kithes all around

only he is allowed make fun of her mistakes in dancing

anyone else gets deaded. he will fight for her honor how dare you insult his baby

sm give these ttwo a dancing duo video pls

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

the first and only time aria and ten had a duet was during their last concert on superm’s first world tour. during the second half of ten’s solo performance, aria emerged from the left side of the stage, coming to join him in the centre stage. no one had ever seen aria as serious as she was then, both herself and ten becoming completely different people in the moment. midway through, aria spun with her back to ten and leaped backwards into the air - eyes closed - completely trusting ten to be where she needed him to be to catch her.

➣ LUCAS ☾ arihei

besties

please they’re so cute together - tol child next to tini child she barely comes up to his chest :(

bear hugs

he just swamps her in his arms, and when he doesn’t feel like being bent over he picks her up

complains that she’s too heavy but then immediately after will throw her around like a softball

someone tell this man to be careful with her she’s not a barbie doll

singular braincell energy

don’t get it wrong, they’re both super smart

so it’s just - being smort together, but then nearly dying because neither of them remembered that you couldn’t eat raw cookie dough when there are eggs in it

she adores how he’s so confident in the things that he does - like convincing the entire nct fandom that he was fluent in english? king behaviour

so aria looks up to him (literally) but also because she wants to have that confidence some day

lucas says they’re not close and then aria pouts and he takes it all back

nczennies made a 14 minute compilation titled “lucas melting like a popsicle in australia for aria”

and literally what the title tells you, this man goes :(( when he sees her

lucas was actually the person to convince her to go ahead with the [redacted] proposal - and reminded her that it was too good an opportunity to pass up just because she felt like she was outgrowing the boys

he’s so proud of her

and she’s so proud of him

they’re so proud of each other and it makes nczennies want to cry because they never are seen together

sm stop separating the platonic soulmates first markhyuck and now arihei smh

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

during a photoshoot, aria was standing off to the side of the boys, dressed in white suit to contrast the boys’ black ones. the photographer was calling out to her to get her to move closer, but she couldn’t hear him from so far away, and so lucas (who was on the end) just walked over to her, gripped her by the biceps and lifted her vertically and to the left a little bit. 

“luc-LUCAS?”

“you had to move :)”

➣ MARK ☾ mari

½ of the best friend crew

honestly at the beginning, mark and aria weren’t very close, having only really seen each other in passing or with johnny

but after being dropped into training together the two quickly became fast friends, and now they’re borderline inseparable

you thought you knew pain? watch aria’s reaction to mark’s graduation from dream :)

mark’s the reason why aria felt confident enough to pitch some of her lyric ideas to the team, after staying up until 4am to help her make some edits so she was as confident as possible

kinda just, rests his head on her shoulder? and wraps his arms around her waist when he’s tired

mari being confused in foreigner: ???

aria said once in a vlive that she finds mark really comforting to be around - when she feels stressed or worried about something she’ll go to mark’s room and just sit on his bed for a while

aria is so close with his parents - “ahh, how’s my favourite child” “i’m doing great mom.” “no not you, how’s aria?” “wh-hu-MOM?”

you’d swear sometimes mark is younger than her, considering the pout he puts on and how much he whines when they’re not on the same team together for promotions

mark big protecc boi but also little small cuddly boi

they’re so soft for each other ( ╥ω╥ )

in one of the fancams for mark’s solo stage during superm, someone zoomed into aria singing along with him in the wings and dancing to herself with the Proudest Smile™

he’s! so! proud! of! her! constantly! she could be walking and he’d be like “omg get it”

when aria refuses to get up and make herself food (this happens way too often, she just gets into the groove of her work and doesn’t want to move) mark gets her to by threatening to do it himself

consistently caught by czennies just standing behind her and holding her hand in crowded areas - airports, waiting rooms, etc.

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

mark and aria were standing off to one side as the mc explained the rules of the game they were about to be playing. mark looked totally confused, and elbowed aria in her side before looking down and mouthing “what?” to her. aria opened her mouth, before closing it and looking down at the ground, muttering to herself, “결합… 結合….. le chéile…. le… le.. oh oh - combined! we have to put them together, markie.”

and thus, a new confusion meme was born

[rostovs-lover]

roy rogers

brian may x reader | cursing, some suggestive language, a little bit of anxiety, alcohol consumption | she/her pronouns | fluffy? slow-burn?? | wc.3667

i’m low key tempted to make a part two,, 

anon : Can I request a super cute fic where Bri needs more money for uni, so he starts offering guitar lessons and the reader has a little brother who really wants to learn how to play, so she signs him up. Maybe her brother is extremely good with a guitar and he has a lot of lessons with Bri. He also sees the reader a lot and he catches feelings HARD. Maybe the reader’s little brother spills something to both of them with the help of the rest of the band and they end of together. I just need major FLUFF

your younger brother thinks his guitar teacher is perfect for you and he’s adamant about getting you together. requests open!!

     A Roy Roger’s is a nonalcoholic drink made of cola and cherry grenadine and topped with a maraschino cherry.

     Your younger brother, David, practically lived in your apartment. For a fourteen year old he was brilliant and very, very sneaky. Sneaky enough to creep out of your mother’s house in the dead of night and crawl up to the fire escape of your second story apartment.

    When you’d stumbled to the kitchen, half asleep, he’d been at the table thumbing through a cookbook. He’d also had the audacity to laugh when you screamed, thinking he was an intruder. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last either.

    “One of these days something is going to be thrown at your head,” You hissed, setting a bowl of cereal in front of David, who looked at it with the utmost disgust.

    “What is this?”

    “Quisp, either eat it or starve.”

    He glowered at you, “I like Waffelos,”

    “That's so sad, I have no money, its Quisp or nothing.” It was quiet for a while as you both ate, David still looking through your cookbook.

    He closed the book, examining the cover as he spoke, “Mum said you have to sign me up for guitar lessons,”

    “Mum said what?”

    “You have to sign me up for guitar lessons, she’ll pay. I have a well of untapped potential in the musical realm. That's according to her coworker, Deirdre.” He sighed, exasperated, “Mum trusts Deirdre apparently because now I have to learn guitar.”

    “Where on earth does mum expect me to sign you up, I mean did she give you any specifics, like a price range? Do you even have a guitar?”

    “First, I have mum’s old guitar. Second, she just said lessons. I think she trusts your judgment.”

    Despite how much you appreciated your mother trusting your judgment, finding reasonably priced guitar lessons with someone who wasn’t a creep was harder than anticipated. You had collected a handful of flyers and business cards, all offering said lessons. The first call you placed was to a nice old lady looking to take up some spare time by providing lessons but she lived too far away for your mother to drive every week. The next was almost promising until you told Robert MacIntere that the lesson was for your brother, not you and he hung up the phone. One woman had too many cats, another man asked for your shoe size, someone else cursed you out when you said you couldn’t do their outlandish prices. The only promising thing you had gotten was a History professor, a very nice man too. You were thrilled when the lessons had finally been scheduled until he bowed out at the last minute and you were back at square one. 

    You had almost given up when, one rainy Thursday evening, you found an advert pinned outside of the auditorium. Guitar lessons, not too far away, open every Tuesday and Wednesday after three o’clock. The document was typed, all except a phone number scrawled on the bottom, almost as if an afterthought. You scratched the number on the palm of your hand and called straight away when you got home.

    The line wrung for several seconds, “Yo?”

    “Hi. Hi, yes I’m calling about a flyer I saw posted at Imperial College? It was an advert for bi-weekly guitar lessons, and your number was on the paper. I was wondering about booking a couple of weeks?”

    The person on the line snorted, “Sorry dear, that’s not me. I assume you’re looking for my mate, just one moment and I’ll gather him-” You heard his hand cover the receiver as she called for someone, “Just one sec’ lovie,”

    The phone was audibly handed off, “Hello?”

    “Hi, um I’m calling about the guitar lessons?”

    “Oh!” His voice, “Yes, of course! That's me, are you looking to schedule one?”

    You had scheduled for the following Tuesday at four, to meet at his apartment. In the car on the way there, David rambled on about everything he wanted to learn and exactly how ecstatic he was for this. He had named his guitar George, after George Harison, who he admired. On the elevator ride up to Brian’s apartment, David was practically vibrating and he bounced on the balls of his feet as you waited at the door.

    The door was opened by a blond, clad in a bathrobe and flannel pyjama pants who puffed at his cigarette as he stared at you, “What brings you here?”

    Before you could speak David, who the blond hadn’t noticed until just then, piped up, “The guitar lessons. I’m the one being taught, [Name] is just sitting in.”

    “Oh, well come in then, I’ll go and get Brian.” He tucked his cigarette behind him and lead you inside, “Um, make yourselves at home, couch is all yours.” He howled Brian’s name and ducked into the kitchen, snuffing out the smoke in an ashtray.

    David got settled on the couch, tugging out his guitar, and you set into a chair. From around the corner rushed a very frantic body, clutching his own guitar. He was very tall, and the black pants he wore made his legs seem unproportionate to his body. What caught your eye the most though was his hair, he had a thick mane of tightly wound black curls, which also added to his height.

    “Hi, I’m very sorry about this, I got a touch caught up in a bit of school work.” He settled onto the couch next to your brother, “You must be David, I’m Brian.” He gestured a hand to your brother.

    David, ever the charmer, shook firmly as he spoke, “Its pleasure meeting you. I wasn’t quite sure that lessons were even going to happen, no one seemed right, according to mum, but you seem nice! Your guitar is neat. Oh! That's my sister, [Name], I believe you spoke on the phone.”

    “We did,” Brian leaned forwards to shake your hand as well, “Its nice to meet you,”

    A better teacher would have been hard to come by. Brian was patient and soft spoken, he worked at your brother’s pace, never rushing past anything he didn’t fully understand. The lesson was only an hour long but it seemed much shorter, with a book in tow you didn’t pay much mind to anything else. That was until you caught yourself glancing over the cover to watch the lesson. Brian was attractive and he had very nice hands. You were somewhat aghast you’d never seen him on campus, he seemed hard to miss.

    The lessons became weekly, and despite trusting Brian and his roommate, Roger, you still opted to stay for every one. It was always pleasant, the apartment was nice, Brian was nice, and you had begun to get acquainted with his friends. During the third week, Roger had let it slip that they were in a band. Brian’s face had flushed scarlet and he’d played with his fingers as he explained that it wasn’t anything serious. On that same visit, you’d had a conversation with Roger in the kitchen while he got you a glass of water. He was nice, only half awake at the time, but you’d realized you had an evolution class together at school. He had also given you his number, and David would absolutely not let you hear the end of it.

    “Please-” Your brother cried as he threw himself onto your sofa, “You haven’t had a boyfriend in ages. The last one was, what was his name?”

    You rolled your eyes, “Chet?”

    “Chet Robbins! Chet the safe bet!”

    “Chet the safe bet? Did you make that up?”

    David smiled, very proudly, “I did! Just now actually, because it's true! Chet, the business student, trust fund child, frat boy. Why not date a drummer?”

    “Because I like stability David,”

    “[Name] date the drummer. I beg, I plead. He was so into you, he gave you his number!”

    “If you will recall, I have his number. Because his number is the apartment number and that's what I called for the lessons. I also refuse to date your teacher’s best friend. How would I approach that, ‘Hi Brian! You’re teaching my brother an instrument, I did your friend last night. How have you been?’”

    David gasped in mock disgust, “I never said a word about doing him. You foul wench, I simply implied dinner. Maybe seeing one of his shows.”

    “Oh my dear, when you date a drummer it's never just dinner.” You snorted.

    “Well, when I date a drummer it will be. Only dinner, no foul play.”

    “Please, please keep that attitude for the rest of your life.”

    It was quiet as he mulled over your words. You started off, putting away your bag and coat when he abruptly sat up, “You don’t dislike the drummer, in fact, it has nothing to do with him. You don’t like my teacher’s best friend, you like my teacher.” He grinned when your face lit up, “Oh you do, you absolutely do! I’ve never seen you blush that hard.”

    “You little twit,” You hissed, “If you say a word about this I will have your head. This stays between us and us only.”

    David was sneaky, very sneaky. Your conversation had planted an idea in his head like a seed and every brief glance and soft smile you shared with his teacher was water. He was growing a downright devious plan, with you directly at the center of it.

    David, after quietly looking over the house and picking up on Brian’s affinity for science fiction, had been the one to recommend you start reading George Orwell’s 1984. He had also purposely disappeared to the restroom when he caught sight of Brian eyeing the cover.

    Brian carefully cleared his throat, “Do you read much Orwell?”

    “Oh, Orwell? No, not really. I, um- I read The Road to Wigan Pier for a book club a while ago. Are you a fan?”

    “Oh yes,” He smiled, leaning forwards, “I’ve read that, actually. I was in a band a few years back by the same name,”

    You cocked your head, closing the book against your finger, “1984?”

    “Yes, quite silly, I know. Never was much good at naming.”

    “Roger said you’re in a band now, what's that called?”

    His cheeks were beginning to pick up a soft pink again, “Um, Queen. Our singer named it-”

    David sat back down, “Did I miss anything important?”

    Brian looked away and you went back to your book. The only noise became the guitar residing between the two boys on the couch. David had learned enough to start on a song, I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash. It was recognizable enough to draw your attention, and it was lovely at first until it was all David played. When you returned home, when you visited your mother, he played it so much you had memorized the fingering to it.

    It was at another lesson, several weeks later, when you had been left by your lonesome. David had gone to get a drink and Brian had run to retrieve something from his room. All alone and with nothing to tell you not to you settled into the couch with the guitar and tried at the song. It was choppy, a bit off-key, but mostly there.

    “I didn’t know you played?” Brian’s voice was soft but you still jumped, shooting around to find him. Leaned against the back of the sofa he twirled a coin between his fingers, grinning down at you.

    You swallowed, “I don’t, no, not really. Dave’s just played this so much I remembered how it looked.” 

    He propped his chin in his hand, “I think you could be quite good. Just, here-” He slipped the coin between his teeth to reach down, softly grasping your wrist, adjusting your placement on the neck. His hands were warm and it sent a shiver up your spine as he carefully moved your fingers, “That should do nicely, I trust you’ll do well with the right placement.” He was quiet for a moment, silently pondering something, “Friday night we have a show at about ten o’clock, say you come and maybe I could show you something on the guitar afterwards.”

    You considered, “Where is it?”

    “The Cameo, downtown London.”

    “It sounds lovely, very, but I have to admit I’m not big on the downtown London clubs. I actually don’t know where that is. Although I do have a friend whos well versed with the scene, I could ask her to show me there?”

    “Wonderful,” He grinned, “It's a date!” Something else David wouldn’t let go of. Usually, all he talked about was the music he learned but now he was enthralled with the prospect of a new romantic venture. You had been informed on exactly how to dress, what makeup to wear, what drink to order. He also picked the exact shade of blue for you to paint your nails.

    You called Marilla after your mother picked David up and she had agreed, enthusiastically, to show you to the club. When she arrived you had been called ‘prudish’ and were forbidden to dress yourself. In the very back of your closet was a floral dress you’d bought for a wedding reception that never happened. It was supposed to be returned but you just hadn’t gotten around to it.

    “It doesn’t scream rock n’ roll,” She inspected the green fabric under the kitchen light, “But anyone can look like Twiggy with enough eyeshadow so it’ll have to do. You should invest in club clothes, you might have to if anything goes with this guitar player.” Her eyebrows wagged.

    You rolled your eyes, taking the dress from her, “Hush, you’re just as bad as David.”

    “Your brother?” Marilla snorted, “What's he got to do with this?”

    “He's an insufferable little shit, that's what-” You pushed off your top, “At first he tried to get me with the guitar player’s flatmate but when that didn’t work he really pushed Brian and I,”

    Marilla was amused, far more amused than you, “He's a cunning thing, I’ve always liked him. Oh boy, now I really want to see your guitarist, Brian was it?”

    The club pulsed, dull lights glaring down against everything. It was smokey and smelled of weed and whiskey. The band onstage was far too loud and you clung to Marilla’s hand as she pulled you up to the bar.

    “What do you want?” She practically had to yell for you to hear but it went through you, you couldn’t think with all the noise and lights. She sighed and patted your hand, “A Moscow mule and a Roy Roger’s please.” She shouted at the bartender, “It's alright babes, no alcohol, just fancy cherry coke.” You nodded and accepted the drink, taking a tentative sip as you scanned the crowd. The band onstage had seemed to conclude their set but it didn’t make things any quieter. It was overwhelming really, moreso as Marilla started to pull you up to the front.

    “Come on, it's almost ten. Your boy’ll be up next!” She settled in front of the stage, rooting you to the spot next to her.

    Brian’s flatmate came out, twirling a drumstick between his fingers and he was met with loud cheers. Marilla whooped, waving big up at him. He was followed by the bass player, Brian, and the singer. They were all enthralling, and you were enraptured. The boys on stage looked ethereal, in flowy tops and sparkly makeup. The frontman was clad in glittery jewelry and the bass player wore platform boots. Their music drew you in and eased your nerves about how crowded the club was. The last song had a guitar solo and as he played Brian’s eyes met yours. A rose of warmth bloomed into your cheeks and he grinned, fingering at the chords.

    Marilla, immune to none, elbowed you in the ribs, “That's him?!”

    You nodded, “It is,”

    “Damn girlie! Good for you! But for the record, I think I like the drummer,”

    “His name is Roger. If you come backstage with me you can meet him.”

    She grinned, “I’m so proud of you, getting connections!” As they finished Roger flung one of his drumsticks into the crowd. You flinched as Marilla’s hand shot out. She squawked as she caught it, quickly tucking it into her pants and taking your hand, pulling you towards the back lounge. She pushed at the thin curtain to the side, slipping in.

    It was quieter and you watched people in glamorous outfits dally about. A redhead in hot pants dropped onto the shabby leather sofa, passing glass bottles of something to both the drummer and bassist. The singer was swirling what you could only assume to be a cosmopolitan. He looked up, catching sight of you and Marilla, both looking a bit lost.

    “Hello, come come!” The singer waved you over and Marilla practically dragged you.

    “You are spectacular!” She raved, “All of you, magical!” She tugged the stick out of her waistband and made her way to the drummer.

    You cleared your throat, “You really are amazing, you have a lovely voice.”

    The brunette smiled, “Thank you! I’m Freddie by the way, our charming drummer is Roger. The lovely John plays bass and Brian should be around here somewhere, he plays the guitar.”

    “It's nice to meet you, Freddie, I’m [Name]. I was actually looking for Brian,” You twiddled with your fingers, looking down, “He asked to meet here tonight. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is would you?”

    “You know, he may have popped to the kitchen. I’ll show you,” Freddie stood up. He seemed to catch your hesitation, glancing back to Marilla, “I’ll keep an eye on her. Roggie really is no harm, he plays much bigger than he actually is, I don’t think he could hurt a soul. Not an undeserving one at least.” He started towards the kitchen with you in tow.

    Aforementioned kitchen was small and shockingly clean. Your guitarist sat on the counter with a glass of water.

    Brian seemed to be in his own world until Freddie caught his attention, “Someone’s been looking for you, my dear,”

    Brian looked up, “[Name]! Hello, I’m so glad you came!” He slid off the counter setting his drink down, “Did you bring your friend?”

    “I did, she’s become infatuated with Roger though.”

    He grinned, “Oh Rog seems to do that to some people.”

    “Well, I'll leave you to it!” Freddie called, waving and walking back to the lounge.

    When the door shut Brian began to fiddle with the bottom of his shirt, “I left my guitar in the other room, I could go and grab it if you’d still like to learn that song.” He studied your face, “But you don’t look comfortable, are you alright?”

    “Yes, this just isn’t really my scene. I’m not used to the noise and everything, there's a lot of people here.”

    He smiled sympathetically, “I know, it's crowded. There's a nice little diner just down the road, we could walk there and talk if you’d like.”

    You nodded, “Sure, that would be lovely.”

    The air was crisp and it brought you back to reality from the club. Brian had lent you an extra sweater he had brought, it was warm but you had to roll the sleeves a few times. It was quiet as you walked, the occasional car rushing past. The sidewalk narrowed as you got closer to the strip of restaurants and you felt the back of Brian’s hand brush yours. You caught his fingers, lacing yours into them and nervously looking up. His expression mimicked yours, jittery and shy and totally taken.

    “You look very pretty,” He murmured, thumbing over your knuckles, “That green looks very nice on you.”

    You smiled, “Thank you, you look lovely as well.”

    “Oh pish posh, this is just stage wear. But I’m glad you think it looks okay, Rog said I looked frumpy.”

    You giggled, “Marilla, the one who brought me, called me prudish earlier.”

    His laugh was soft, “Well, we can be fashion disappointments to our friends together,” He pulled open the door to MaryAnne’s Diner, holding it for you.

    You were settled in a booth waiting for your order when Brian spoke, “David really has potential,”

    “With the guitar? I’m not surprised, he's always been good at everything he tries. It's really quite annoying, how brilliant he is.”

    “He seems so, a very nice kid. Does he live with you?”

    “No no,” You smiled, “No he lives with our mum, he just sneaks out to see me more than he should. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for letting me sit in, I know it's not common practice. I just worry about him, he seems so much older than he actually is and I’m worried it’ll get him in trouble one day.”

    Brian patted your hand, “Oh darling, I understand. I really don’t mind at all, I’m glad I met you.”

    “I’m glad I’ve met you as well.”

    He had walked you home, contently explaining the story behind one of the constellations he saw.

    He stalled at the door, keeping your hand in his, “So I suppose I’ll see you next week?”

    “Absolutely,”

    He moved one hand to push a piece of hair out of your face, “Well until then I suppose,”

    You leaned up, closing in on him. You felt his hot breath against your cheeks, “Is this okay?”

    He nodded, “More than,” And pulled you into him. 

     He was as gentle in kissing you as he was in everything else, carefully nudging his nose against yours. His mouth was warm and he stroked your mandible, easing deeper into the kiss. He relished in the taste of maraschino cherry from the Roy Roger’s you’d had earlier. You gasped softly as he nipped at your bottom lip, pulling away. The lipgloss he had been wearing was smeared against the corner of your mouth and he carefully wiped at it with his thumb.

    David would never let you hear the end of this either.