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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.”

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting.

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt.

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

* * *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold.

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

* * *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours.

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper.

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity.

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.”

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life.

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me.

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

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Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Words: 14092 (I swear this was supposed to be a short oneshot but it got out of hand. I'm so so sorry.)

Warnings: 28% smut, 72% plot. Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Oral (male and female receiving). Fingering and Squirting due to overstimulation. Some dom/sub elements but not full-on. Creampie. Rough handling (e.g. hair-pulling, spanking, hand-binding, some more hair-pulling). I think that's all?!

Inspired by these posts [x] [x] and by this lovely artist. Thanks @danniburgh for humoring me with my thots.

A/N: I came back from my temporary hiatus to post this because I couldn't wait. And now I shall return to my little corner again. Sorry guys these school/administrative issues are taking longer to deal with so I'm for the most part still away. This is not beta'd. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments please and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy. And you can add yourself to the taglist here.

It’s such a different atmosphere, from what he remembers at least. It’s been so long since he stepped foot on a university campus, and he can’t help but smile at the spectrum of personalities all around him. While some students lounge underneath the trees and on the grass, others ran hastily to their courses. Those were probably freshmen.

As he makes his way through the campus, he has to look at his phone numerous times to figure out where exactly he was going. That’s definitely one thing he didn’t miss about being in school, the fact that he was shit in directions and how he almost always got lost during the beginning of each semester.

When he does finally find the art history department, he silences his phone and heads to the first office he can find.

“Good afternoon, my name is Nicola. How can I help you?”

“Hi Nicola, I’m here to see Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you could direct me to her office please?” Marcus smiles as he unbuttons his suit jacket, not realizing that his FBI tag was now visible to the world.

“She’s currently in one of her lectures, you could-” Marcus follows Nicola’s line of sight when she grows quiet and groans when he sees that she noticed his FBI tag.

“Please, she’s not in trouble. I am part of the FBI Art Crime Team, and I’m actually coming to ask if we could get her professional opinion on an artifact. Just need her to consult on something.” He smiles at Nicola and waits for her expression to relax before he continues.

“Do you mind telling me which lecture hall she’s in?”

“Y-yes, she’s in H140. Make a right at the door and it’s the hall all the way at the end.”

“Thank you Nicola, have a good day.” Marcus nods at her before he buttons his jacket again to avoid any suspicious, terrified looks as he makes his way to the lecture hall. He walks quietly, avoiding the students walking past him as they exit the rooms. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob slowly to not make any noise, hoping that he wasn’t being too disruptive once he walks in. As he shuts it behind him and looks around, his eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are at least 250, maybe 300 students filling the seats of the room. He awkwardly smiles when some students look to the side and see him standing at the foot of the door. He quickly takes a seat and says nothing as the students return their attention to the large projected screen. Marcus hears what he assumes is your voice through the large speakers but he can’t place your position. As he looks at the projected images, he finally catches you through his peripheral vision as you step off the railing near the exit doors at the front of the room.

“Because of this association with the gods, many amulets used to ward off the evil eye include depictions of mythological figures and deities who are almost, if not always, female. To the Greeks and Romans, the most common fascinations with an evil eye were women in any shape or form. They were thought to have the most powerful and harmful gaze that might kill if eye contact was established. That’s basically me telling you to never look me in the eye or else I will curse the cow of your second cousin twice removed.” Laughter reverberates off the walls at your joke and only grows louder when you whisper, “just kidding...or am I?” Marcus can’t help but smile at your jokes, watching with fascination as you move up and down the stairs of one side of the lecture hall once you continue to speak.

“Now, I know what some of you are thinking...isn’t that a bit sexist? Well, to the ancients, no. And to us, it’s kind of a meh thing. I know that doesn’t sound very feminist of me but it all comes down to the culture and the ancient practices that carried over. Just remember that it wasn’t because they were women, it was because they were thought to be powerful...a glass half-full kinda thing.” Marcus watches you closely as you maintain your focus on the students before you switch the slide and stand in the middle of the stairway with your back towards the projector.

“So, we find goddesses such as Erinnyes or the Furies associated with the evil eye because of their avenging nature. Their heads were covered in serpents and their eyes were always bloodshot and one of the Furies by the name of Megaera was considered in late antiquity as the personification of envy and whose eyes were the most envious and deadly of all the Furies. She was described by poets as baskanon omma pherousa...bearing the evil eye. Naturally, many children in late antiquity constantly wore amulets of stone galactite to protect them from the eyes of Megaera, and sometimes even wore necklaces with her face on it to counteract the evil eye of someone else and have her curse the ones who tried to harm them. Basically, the ancients were playing a game of tag with the evil eye.” You descend the stairs and walk to the other side of the hall, and Marcus feels his chest tighten with how much confidence you exude, not just through your words but with how you carry yourself as well.

“Perhaps the most famous of these dangerous women is Medusa who was one of the Gorgones in Greek mythology. The Gorgones were one of many female beings such as the Harpies, the Erinnyes, the Graiae, and the Keres, who were said to be grim-faced, and who held horrible looks. Briefly, the story tells of how she was one of the most beautiful women to ever walk the earth and later became hateful-looking by Athena as punishment for being raped by Poseidon in the middle of the huntress’ temple. Her hair became serpents and she was so furious that anyone who would look at her would turn into stone...at least that is the version you will hear from the “all-knowing” male scholars within this field. But, and I know I’m going on a rant here, if you’re like me, you’re more likely to argue that Athena pretended to hate Medusa. The serpents were no punishment! The goddess looked at the poor woman and gave her a weapon to use against men because unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to avenge her...not only because she didn’t get along with Poseidon but also because he was a god as well. Anyway, back to Medusa’s amazing power which I would love to have so I could use it whenever I’m talking to some professors in this department...don’t quote me on that.” Again, Marcus chuckles at your side commentary and notices how calm and enjoyable the atmosphere of the lecture is. If only he had professors like you when he was in university.

“Even after she was decapitated by Perseus, her powers were very much alive and it is said that Athena placed Medusa’s image on her shield, once Perseus returned it, in order to use it when she hunted. This suggests that depictions of her severed head held apotropaic power and like earlier, one could use a creature who held the power of the evil eye against another being who is said to use the evil eye. Following this principle of similia similibus, it is not surprising that most of the amulets found in Greece and Rome contained illustrations of Medusa’s decapitated head on them. What was once the possessor of the evil eye became a protective symbol against the very same thing.” Just as you are about to continue with the next image, an alarm goes off and Marcus frowns in shock at how inconsiderate it was that phones weren’t silenced. But his surprise only heightens when he sees you running down the steps to your desk and picking up the phone sitting in the middle of the table.

“Ahhhh man, we were just about to get to the cavalier. That’s okay. Remember, the second response is due first thing on Friday. If you can’t turn it in during class, shoot me an email and we can work something out with my TAs. Go forth my clever spawns!” Marcus stands up and glues himself to the wall when he sees students emptying the lecture hall, his eyes on your form at the front of the class. He hopes you don’t leave out of the front exit and begins to make his way to you through the multitude of undergrads leaving. When he reaches your desk, he stands to the side until you finish chatting with one of the students and begins to collect your work.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Please, it’s just Y/N. Who are you and how can I help you today?” You almost do a double take when you look up from your bag and see the man standing in front of you. To say that you were starstruck by the man in front of you would have been the understatement of the century.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike,” he holds out his FBI tag for you and watches as you raise an eyebrow at him before you swing your bag across your shoulders and motion for him to follow you out of the hall.

“I would like to put it on record that I do not, in fact, wish to turn any of my colleagues to stone.” You joke, and Marcus senses that you are perhaps nervous at seeing his tag.

“Believe me, I would like to do that to some of mine as well...but no, not why I’m here.” Marcus clips the tag below his jacket as he walks with you.

“May I ask what I have done that caught the FBI’s attention?” You walk ahead of him, and ask him if it was okay for him to head over to your office with you.

“I’m with the FBI Art Crime Team and I’m here on a request. We would like to consult you on an open investigation and I came here to ask what your availability is.” Marcus follows you up the stairs, barely forcing his eyes to remain on your feet instead of elsewhere.

“Oh, me? That’s...wow. Of all the things I thought I would accomplish in my life, that’s definitely not one of them. May I ask what it is you need my opinion on?” You push open the doorway of the staircase and point at your office across the quiet hall.

“Unfortunately, there is a lot of paperwork you need to fill out before we get to work so I can’t disclose anything about the case until you sign in.” Marcus steps into the office behind you and watches as you set your things down before you move to your desk. He can’t help but feel his muscles loosen at the sight of the bookshelves across your room.

“This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all year long so yes, hundred percent. I’m available for the rest of the day today as well as tomorrow and Friday after lecture which ends at the same time as today’s.” You beam up at him as you take two books out of your bag and replace them with a folder that was sitting in the middle of your desk. Marcus looks at you quizzically, marveling at how much easier this was going. He genuinely thought he was going to meet with someone who was probably a bit proud and perhaps as much of an asshole as his previous professors but you were so much different than anyone he’s ever met within this field.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to take a week or two-”

“No please, you’ll be saving me from faculty lunches and two seminars by colleagues that I genuinely cannot fucking stand- oh, sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-” You swing your leather bag around your shoulder again and shut the blinds of the windows before you walk to the door.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Marcus chuckles at the excitement rolling off of you and bites his lower lip when he watches you quickly fix your hair.

“I might need to have lunch on the way to your office though if that’s okay?” You take a plastic container out of your bag and smile sheepishly at him as you lock your door.

“Wow...is your bag bigger on the inside or something? And, yeah fine by me.” He pushes his hands into his pockets again and walks next to you, a little corner in his heart gradually filling with hope letting him know that he should be cautious. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

You both chat briefly on your way to headquarters and Marcus apologizes every time he looks over and sees you struggling with your food. By the time you make it to the building, Marcus can tell you are a bit nervous and he assures you once more that this was merely a consultation.

“Wait how did you even find me?” You take your jacket off along with everything in your pockets, laying them down near your bag as they go through the scanner. Marcus passes through with his badge and waits for you on the other side, picking up your things as you put your jacket back on.

“I made some calls and a friend suggested to get in touch with you because of your expertise.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere. You have a Greek artifact don’t you?” Marcus halts in his steps and looks over to you as he shuts his eyes in irritation. He should have watched what he said.

“S-sorry I couldn’t help it. I’ll stop until I fill out whatever paperwork you have for me.” You take your things from him and walk quietly as he leads you to the elevators.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not personal, it’s just-”

“Business I know. I know. I’m so used to watching this kind of stuff in movies that I tend to forget it’s all fake and you’re...the real deal.” You hope he doesn’t see the way your eyes trail over his taller form, silently cursing yourself when you meet his eyes and notice how he’s already staring at you with a smile.

“Sorry.” You apologize again and look straight ahead, hands tightening around the leather strap when you realize that he’s still looking at you.

Marcus fists the hands in his pockets to prevent himself from saying anything else that might make you uncomfortable, and he looks at the increasing numbers as they reach his floor. A loud ring signals your arrival and Marcus stretches out his hand so you could walk ahead of him. You wait until he tells you where to go and say nothing when he stops for a second and whispers something to another agent.

When you arrive at his office, you stand to the side and wait for him to tell you what to do.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come here.” Marcus calls you over to his desk and smiles, hoping to put you a little at ease. You step towards him and set your stuff on the floor as you sit opposite him on one of the two chairs. He pulls out a couple of files and sets them in front of you in four different piles.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” You chuckle nervously as you take out a pen from your bag.

“I know, I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. These are the building rules and your signature is basically you telling us you’ll abide by all of them.”

“I don’t know any of them.” You respond immediately, and rub harshly at the pen between your fingers.

“I’ll be with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about that.” His smile throws you off guard and you nod before you sign the highlighted areas.

“And these are you swearing that you will tell no one of whatever you see, hear, do, etc. within the building.” You nod and sign through the stapled paperwork before sliding them his way.

“We’re almost done. These two are like the second pile but they have to do with this case specifically. And they extend to outside the premises, meaning that if I or another agent on the case tells you anything that has to do with your work here today while we’re grabbing coffee from across the street, you can’t say it to a living soul.” Marcus points at the four highlighted boxes and tells you to sign the date next to them as well.

“So I can say it to my dead cousin?” You ask as you sign the two papers and hand them to him, unable to hold your laughter when he shakes his head as he pushes the last pile towards you.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“Can’t help it.”

“And finally, these are you swearing that whatever you tell us today, be it an opinion, a fact, or anything else, is the absolute truth. Basically, you’re not fucking with us.” You raise an eyebrow at his choice in words and he shrugs his shoulders as he motions for the empty spaces again. When you’re done, Marcus collects all the files and places them in a folder before he unlocks his desk and pushes them inside.

“I don’t ever want to see my signature again.” You whisper as he leads you out of the office towards a conference room. He holds the door for you and nods ahead, waiting for you to step in before he shuts the door behind him and turns around. You try to ignore the hand pushing on your lower back as you walk in and spot three gentlemen and one woman standing towards the end of the long table.

“Wow, that was quick.” The female agent is first to speak and you say nothing as Marcus introduces you to them.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Of course. This is very exciting for me so I’m happy to help in any way.” You shake her hand and stand to the side as Marcus motions for you to sit down.

“This is Lydia, Ethan, Henry, and Noah.” Marcus points to each member of his team as he pulls out a chair next to you and sits down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You nod towards them and look at the folder that Lydia hands to you. Marcus says something as you flip open the folder but you can’t respond, eyes almost falling out of their sockets as you take in the large image on the page. You look up at Marcus and everyone else before you return your attention to the picture.

“You recognize what this is then?” Ethan breaks the silence and watches as you move through the pages quickly.

“Umm, that seems like an oversimplification but yes.” You continue to study the images in front of you for another few minutes before you set them down and look up at Marcus.

“Some explanation would really help me out right now.” You tap softly on the papers, and your mind conjures up the wildest possible stories behind the images currently displayed in front of you.

“Oh right yes. We received a tip from the Smithsonian’s acquisitions department about a man trying to sell them this artifact for three million dollars,” Marcus notices your eyes widen but he continues, “but they’re not sure if it’s stolen or not. And he refuses to cooperate.”

“Which is where you come in. Have you seen anything like this before and if so, where?” Lydia stares at you as you return your attention to the pictures again.

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

“Far from it. Marcus here is just afraid they’ll eventually get greedy and do anything to get their hands on it.” You look next to you and watch a faint blush take over the agent’s handsome features.

“I mean I don’t blame you. There are a bunch of real assholes in this field.” You laugh when he gives Lydia a ‘told you’ look.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you if I don’t see the actual pendant.” You shut the folder and push it away from you.

“That might be a problem.” Henry takes his glasses off and proceeds to clean them as he looks at his co-workers.

“Why? Do you not have it anymore?” Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of the FBI losing such an object.

“Oh no we have it. Our guy is afraid we’ll switch it out with a fake so he refuses to hand it to us unless he’s in the same room.”

“That’s funny. Is there a rule that says I can’t look at it while this man is in the room?” You ask Marcus and he can’t help but notice how giddy you’re being all of a sudden. Your excitement is almost palpable and he wills himself to focus on the question and not how you bite your lower lip as you wait for him.

“I mean…”

“You’re all going to be in the room aren’t you?” You cut him off before he says anything and when they all nod, you turn to Marcus once more and wait for his response.

“I guess it’s fine.” Marcus reluctantly answers before he asks Ethan and Noah to bring the man from the interrogation room he’s been in for the past couple of hours. Lydia and Henry let you in on more details and Marcus watches as you furrow your eyebrows in focus, occasionally cutting them off to ask them a question.

Fifteen minutes later and a knock on the door breaks you out of your haze. You look up just as Ethan and Noah walk in with a man in front of them. You say nothing as they bring him to your side of the room and set him down across from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t steal it. I found it!” Your ears perk at his comment but you say nothing as he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you.

“May I see it?” You ask before anyone else says anything and the man continues to stare at you before he ignores your question.

“Please, I’m just here to confirm your story. I know for a fact there isn’t a museum out there that has this.” You notice the hardened expression on Henry’s face but he says nothing. A few long moments pass by and the man shifts to take something out of the inside his jacket. You inhale deeply and watch as he unwraps the cloth before he places the small pendant on the table in front of you.

“May I?” You ask again and if Marcus didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just trying to put the man at ease. If you were nervous around five FBI agents and you did nothing wrong, then his little thief must have been scared shitless.

When the man nods, you bring out a pair of gloves from your handbag and put them on, forcing yourself to remain calm as you pick up the pendant.

“What a beautiful work of art you are baby. Red jasper, my favorite!” Your excited words break the silence and you look up at the man in front of you with a smile, feeling your hands sweat when he slowly returns the expression.

Got you.

“Greek is marvelous...crystal clear, grammatically correct, unique placement.” It’s as silent as a cemetery and Marcus watches you closely as you narrow your eyes and adjust the stone under the light. If he wasn’t dealing with a criminal and a potentially stolen artifact, he would have told you how beautiful you looked when you were deep in the middle of a task.

“Hmm, what is this 6th century-ish spell? Oh my bad, no no no, I tend to mix them up sometimes. It’s definitely a 7th century formula.” You make an awkward face and watch as Lydia shakes her head at your little mix up.

“Now, let’s see what you got on the other side sweetheart.” You carefully turn the amulet around in the palm of your hand and barely hold back from gasping dramatically.

“My god...what a goddamn sight...oh oops sorry, that was probably blasphemous. A perfectly etched crucifixion...cross with 4 sides, with a plaque at the top...and of course, can’t forget the clothed Christ. The detail on this is truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen, down to the ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare’ around the figure. Where did you say you found it again?” You casually ask as you continue to inspect the stone, almost laughing when the man responds immediately to your question.

“Mount Athos.” Marcus turns to his team in shock. You’d managed to get the information out of him so easily while they spent an entire day trying to get him to say anything. It was a little funny how at ease the man seemed now, leaning forward towards you as you flipped the stone around.

“Ohh the hub of Eastern monasteries. Boy is this the most valuable artifact I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at then.” You set it down on the cloth and wrap it up before taking your gloves off and leaning back on the chair.

“See, told you its one of a kind. No one’s ever found anything like it before.” The man beams at you before he takes the object and puts it back in his jacket.

“Oh yeah it’s one of a kind alright...because it’s the most fake amulet I’ve ever had the misfortune of examining. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in my life. And here I thought another one of these was out there. Did you even bother to do any research on this?” You frown at him and cross your arms in irritation, completely missing Marcus’ reaction and how he turns to Lydia to confirm that yes, you just said that it was a fake artifact.

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

Taglist (some aren't working):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @fan-of-encouragement @evelynseventyr

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike/reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal #yall don't understand how much I love this fucking character #he's literally the softest #and he deserves the world #ugh #anyway

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yurimother · 4 years

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LGBTQ Light Novel Review — I'm in Love with the Villainess

A stunningly profound, entertaining, and queer title that eclipses other isekai and Yuri series

There are few titles the general public seems to be as excited about as Inori and Hanagata's I'm in Love with the Villainess, as it has been sitting at or near the top of Amazon's LGBT Manga list for months and Twitter is consistently abuzz with the latest news on this isekai Yuri series. I was somewhat more skeptical, as I have had relatively poor experiences with isekai and fantasy Yuri. Still, my excitement went through the room, and I eagerly boarded the "hype train" upon the cover reveal for the third volume. Yuri families, where two women raise children together, are one of my greatest desires and something I rarely see portrayed in the genre. However, I still had mostly low expectations for the series going into the first volume. I looked forward to some light meandering comedy and typical boring trope-filled isekai shenanigans. However, I'm in Love with the Villainess more than exceeded my expectations. No, even this statement is far too moderate to describe how utterly stunned and blown away I was by Inori's creation. I'm in Love with the Villainess is completely shattering and easily one of the greatest light novels I have ever read. Thus, I have no choice to award a perfect 10/10 score, my first ever for a light novel.

After waking up in the world of her favorite otome game, Revolution, protagonist Rae is ecstatic to be faced to face with Claire Francois, the game's villainous rival. However, Rae never played Revolution for the thrill of romancing any of the three attractive young princes. She was always in love with Claire. She attends the academy and studies magic in the fantasy world alongside Claire, the princes, and various other supporting characters. Using her skills from the modern world and her encyclopedic knowledge of Revolution, Rae manipulates the situation to be close to Claire, becoming her maid, and garnering status and money along the way. As an inevitable conflict looms closer, Rea begins to enact plans to protect herself and Claire, many of which are not fully understood or explained until the finale fantastically reveals the reasons for her actions. There is a natural and steady pace to the narrative that awards readers’ predictions and attention to detail.

I'm in Love with the Villainess has some excellent supporting characters, all of whom have unique personalities, histories, and abilities, some of which are revealed by Rae's exposition and others naturally throughout the novel. However, the stars of the show are the central couple, Rae and Claire. Claire is an elite aristocrat and extremely bratty. She often sneers at commoners and makes her disdain of Rae very clear from early on. On paper, she sounds like the perfect villain and someone all readers would despise. However, Rae's utter devotion and infatuation with Claire is so sincere that we cannot help but be pulled in and adore Claire and all her tantrums. Rae is a delight herself, continually flirting and poking fun at Claire, which gets her verbally berated, much to her masochistic pleasure. However, she is also exceptionally cunning and intelligent, and some of the light novel's greatest joys are listening to her analyze a situation or watching one of her plans fall into place.

“Ah, I’m… Well, it doesn’t matter. I mean, it’s irrelevant to cuteness—because, Miss Claire, you are cute.” “Huh?!” She pulled away. It was perfect—such a pure reaction. “Miss Claire, you hate me, right?” “Of course!” “That’s fine. Please keep teasing me. I love it.”

The beginning of the book does not immediately clue one into its brilliance. Sure, Claire and Rea get some great one-liners as they bully each other, and the scenarios are authentic and fun, but it is nothing shattering. I was feeling pretty relaxed and having a lot of fun with the characters, their relationship, and the various slice-of-life style scenarios they encountered until one section, I remember the exact page, 81, as it stopped me dead in my tracks. I was flabbergasted and briefly frozen before shooting up out of bed, shouting expletives as I ran to my office to immediately record what I had just experienced. It all begins with the line, "Hey, Rae. Are you what they call gay?" What followed was one of the most thoughtful, condensed, informative, and nuanced discussions of gay and queer identity (both terms used in this scene) I have ever seen in Yuri. Everything from representation in media, the perceptions of and prejudices against gay people, and the role gender plays in romance for bisexual and gay people are analyzed. Its commentary is succinct yet so respectful and forthright that it could have only come from genuine experience, thus selling the book and its characters so much more.

"Queer people were still overwhelmingly closeted in this world, which was rife with prejudice and nurtured little understanding. As I noted, the queer people depicted in the story were either the sex fiends Claire imagined or the free-loving sort Lene had in mind. Diversity and acceptance were a long way off.”

Thus, Inori's writing's beauty exposed itself, and the book opened itself up to a delightful cycle. The narrative masterfully integrates isekai slice-of-life hijinks, like running a cross-dressing café or battling a giant slime with nuanced and challenging moments that dissect complicated topics. The latter mainly consists of a growing rift between the aristocracy and common people, mirroring real-world wealth gap issues, but the novel also touch on matters such as unequal prison sentencing and segregation. Every scene helped further the complexity of the characters and their relationships or else built onto the world of Revolution. Speaking of which, I'm in Love with the Villainess has some of the best worldbuilding ever seen in a light novel.

Initially, brief exposition establishes much of the world, which is adequate if not exciting. I will mark up to a casualty of the light novel's serialized nature, as it must present readers its setting immediately. However, Inori does not stop here. Through the narrative, new elements are established, such as a magic system and the kingdom's politics. Rea notes and describes how the world, while clearly based on medieval Europe, has many modern Japanese attributes, as Japanese game developers created it. Her pointing out the intersection of the two is fascinating. Furthermore, A great deal of time is spent establishing characters and organizations all have their own wants, agendas, and methods, many of which are not even directly involved with the story. Instead, they act as a background and help further contextualize others. For example, the Church publicly appears to lean towards supporting the commoners in their efforts for equality but has its own agenda of superseding the nobility. While they play little role in Rea and Claire’s adventure, they are one of numerous factors contributing to the unrest of the lower class. All these additions are interesting, and it never feels like the story or characters suffer for their inclusion, quite the opposite.

“The Bauer Kingdom had started a step behind other countries when it came to magical research. They dominated the surrounding countries in military strength, and this had made them complacent, leading them to underestimate the value of new magic technology until the best researchers had all been enticed to other countries. Even after the king came up with his magic-focused meritocratic policy, Bauer lagged behind.”

I can only make complaints by scraping the very bottom of the barrel. Hanagata's beautiful art is too infrequent to add much to the light novel, and many scenes crying for illustrations are left to the readers' imagination. However, Inori so wonderful writes the story that one hardly cares and can easily picture every moment with delight. Besides, the manga adaption will nullify this issue. Where I cannot complain at all is the spectacular translation by Jenn Yamazaki and Nibedita Sen, one of Seven Seas best (which is high praise considering the competition). Sure, I was slightly disappointed at first to see the adaptation left off honorifics, but the more I thought about the setting, the more sense it made. I am sure people much smarter than I gave the issue much more consideration, and I am happy with their decisions.

I'm in Love with the Villainess left me reeling with how pleasurable and powerful it was. The story and characters are such a joy, and I cannot wait to see Rea and Claire bully each other again in the next volume. Astounding worldbuilding and powerful, thought-provoking politics surround their antics and the high stakes plot. Every moment of their journey will enthrall readers as they squeal with glee at its hilarious set pieces or are shocked by its commentary of society's most significant challenges. Inori has created one of the most delightful, heartfelt, complex, profound, and genuinely queer light novel series ever. If you only read one thing I recommend this year, let it be I'm in Love with the Villainess.

Ratings: Story — 9 Characters — 10 Art — 5 LGBTQ — 10 Sexual Content — 2 Final — 10

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase I’m in Love with the Villainess in digitally (9/23) and in print (11/10) today: https://amzn.to/32NEyG1

Supports creators by purchasing official releases.

#yuri #lgbt #lgbtq #reviews #lgbtq+#i favor the villainess #i'm in love with the villainess #girls love #gay #queer #light novel #manga #gl #politics #feminism

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ivy-lulu · 3 years

Text

Ikevamp suitors and Chess

So, this has been sitting in my drafts for months because I was too nervous to post it as I've never written headcanons before. I've literally shoved it in queue somewhere so I don't even know when its gonna post. I hope they're ok. Also, this is a pretty long post so I'm gonna put it under the cut.

I started thinking about which suitors would be the best at a game of chess (because I lost...) so I decided to make a post about it.

Warnings: None (except my terrible attempt at humour, you have been warned)

SCORE/10 shows how likely you'd be to win

The 'has won before the game's even started' gang

Arthur - Not much to say about this one. Canonically, Arthur is almost unbeatable at any board game, card game, even games that have been created on the spot (RIP Isaac). So it's obvious he'd take up the first spot on the 'I've got this' team. -1000/10 (it'll only end in tears)

Comte - He's been alive a long time so naturally he'd have spent some of that time mastering this sort of thing. In his 'bad boy' phase the game keeps mentioning, I imagine he was probably a lot like Arthur, even on the gambling front; he probably plays a great hand in poker with that mask he always has on. But on another note, there's even that one 5* card with Leo where the commentary is them playing chess. 0/10 (he'll win and he'll be wearing that smile the entire time) And, that leads me on to...

Leonardo - Last member of the 'you never stood a chance' crew. He is, as the game puts it, a master of all trades, he definitely knows his way around a chess board. He literally has books on military tactics lying around his room so it's safe to say he probably knows what he's doing. He's going at the bottom of this group though because he'd probably let you win just because he loves you, just don't mention him going easy on you because he will show you how he actually plays... 1/10 (if you ask really nicely he'll let you win)

The 'you might be good, but they'll be better' gang

Napoleon - He was the Emperor, what do you expect. He's only in this group because, unlike in war, all of your players are on the board, its much harder to hide any dirty tricks that he might have played on his opponents in his human life. But, unless you are exceptionally good, there's still only a small chance your gonna win this, and he's not one to take pity so he wouldn't go easy on you, if anything winning is something he'd just be able to tease you about later. 2/10 (a bad idea)

Isaac - Logic is his strong suit, so he would be very good at this sort of thing. He'd carefully consider his actions to determine the best possible move so would probably excel at something like chess. His only downfall might be that he could overthink things, especially if his opponent is playing mind games with him, e.g Arthur. 3.5/10 (you could just tease him during the game and he'd lose his focus, but you'd have to live with the fact you cheated to win)

Sebastian - Now hear me out. With the amount of meticulous planning and organisation it takes to keep the mansion running smoothly, he would probably be very good at thinking ahead of his opponent, setting traps and the like. Also with his slight *cough* obsession *cough* with Napoleon, he has probably studied his fair share of military strategy which could come in really handy. 4/10 (if you manage to win, he's not even a sore loser so a pretty safe bet)

The 'can be beaten but you better bring your game' gang

Shakespeare - I mean, if you've played even one route in Ikevamp, you know that he's pretty good at keeping a low profile, whilst causing absolute chaos. You'd think you're doing absolutely fine, in fact you might even think you're winning, but before you can even tell what's happened, the tables have turned and you're down to only a handful of pieces on the board. If you're good at spotting these sort of tricks though, you stand a pretty good chance because its his main strategy. 5/10 (keep your eyes on the game and you'll be good)

Dazai - Dazai, like Arthur, is probably very good at playing mind games, which would give him an edge over his opponent. It would seem like he's playing randomly and you'd have no idea what is a trick and what isn't, but he knows. As long as you can hold your own and keep your head screwed on, you'll have a chance of winning. 5.5/10 (you might win, but at the cost of your sanity)

Theo - This is a tricky one. He probably hasn't played much, probably just played with a client once whilst discussing a deal and decided he should learn a little more in case the situation arises again. I'm putting Theo here because I think he is just a bit more logical than some of the others. 6/10 (if you're an average player, it'll be pretty even)

The 'your best bet at winning' gang

Mozart - He knows what the pieces do, but he doesn't know how to play, if you catch my drift. He spends so much time dedicated to his music he probably hasn't had much practice at it. I still think he'd be decent though because he is organised, perhaps in a similar, but not quite as extreme way as Sebastian. If you consider yourself average at chess, you'd probably be pretty evenly matched with Mozart too. 7.5/10 (if you win, he will sulk about it for the rest of the day)

Jean - He is much better at physical challenges than mental ones like this. He probably doesn't even know the rules but he's a quick learner and you could easily teach him. In fact once he does get a bit of practice in, he might actually be decent at the game, just don't try challenging him to any physical duels and you'll be okay. 8.5/10 (it's only because he doesn't know the rules)

Vincent - He's probably played once before but never really got into it. Vincent would probably be your best bet at winning, purely because he just doesn't know how to play, and would probably only be interested in learning if you wanted him to. He's also a literal angel so he'd probably let you win. 10/10 (you will win, but will you ever actually feel proud about it?)

If you made it this far, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #my-writing-stuff #ikevamp headcannon #ikevamp hcs #ikevamp writing

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

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Hey, did you seen the penguins game a few days ago, where Crosby didn't end up having a stick so the equipment guy passed him one and he scored with it in seconds. Cant get it out of my head that remus passes the stick to a play, could be sirius or anyone and all the fans are going mad that the hottie on the bench basically assisted a goal.

Could be that when Remus gets his first point when he is playing professionally all the fans are like...that wasn't his first point.

I am so sorry this took so long! I should make you aware that my hockey knowledge is incredibly incredibly limited. I did watch a YouTube video of this moment though! I hope you enjoy.

I don’t think there are any necessary content warnings but let me know if you think I forgot anything

Rating: G

All credit for the sweater weather universe and our hockey boys goes to @lumosinlove

"Just this once, love. And then I will follow my own advice. Because it is good advice."

Sirius had tried his best to get to stop him watching the re-run of the game, his strong brow furrowed as he tried everything to reason with him. Remus had heard the exasperation in his voice whilst Sirius reminded him of how many times Remus had dragged him away from a TV after a game. He'd seen the way Sirius' shoulders had dropped just before he accepted he wasn't going to win this argument, and felt a thread of guilt thrum through him. Sitting here on the sofa now, his fist clenched knuckle-white and somehow feeling even more nervous than he had before the game, Remus knew he should have let Sirius drag him away.

“I think Lupin went out on the ice today with a point to prove today, and boy oh boy, did he prove it!”

Remus rolled his eyes at the commentary. Nate had always been fair with his words. He'd been one of the first to defend him and Sirius when their photo had been posted online, but this time he was categorically incorrect. Remus hadn’t gone out with a point to prove. He'd just wanted to have a good first game, something steady to work upon. The two goals had been an unexpected joy; but if anything away from the intensity of the stadium lights where adrenaline had surged through his body as fans chanted his name, it had upped the pressure to perform now.

“Okay, okay. We get it. The boy did good. How about we see what the fans have to say about it?”

Lionsforever2k21: Lupin played great today, but that was not his first point.

BlacknLoopsfan: LOOPS HAS BEEN DOING THE MOST FOREVER <3

Moonymoon96: Nah, Lupin’s bench goal should defo count in his stats

_OfficialJamesPotterfanaccount_: Not our usual content, but I feel the need to point out ‘Hot guy on the bench’ has always known where the goal is.

Remus laughed heartily as the tweets flashed onto the screen. He loved their fans, but how did they even remember this stuff. He really had been a rookie back then. Fresh on the bench. As if somebody had read his mind, there he was on the screen. Young and awkward. Straight out of college, his hair flopping into his face and his limbs seemingly too long. His PT uniform didn't look natural on him yet.

“Rebound! Black! He scores!”

“Look at the bench, the bench is going wild because Black had to get a new stick off the bench! It was an amazing handoff from the Lions physio.

“Black gave up his stick to Tremblay who broke his stick! Quick thinking from the Lions bench there!”

“It took everybody that goal and the team are definitely celebrating with their staff! Walker just jumped on the poor guy! Rather you than me.”

Remus remembered the pure panic he'd felt in the few seconds it had taken for Sirius to skate over to the bench. Time had sped and slowed to a crawl all at once. Where were the spares? He couldn’t fuck this up. He would be sacked on the spot! He didn’t know how or when he had found them, he was just passing the stick over before he could really register what was going on. The next thing he knew the horn was sounding and he was being crushed by the full weight of Thomas Walker. He'd learned just how loud Talker could cheer that night

Remus had been kissing sticks for weeks afterwards. Come on, pucker up, I need some Loops magic tonight.

Sirius walked in, clapping his hand on Remus’ shoulder. He leaned over the back of the sofa, grasping the remote and powering the TV off. “That’s enough for tonight,” he said, leaving little room for argument. Remus conceded, pulling himself up off the sofa and taking Sirius’ offered hand, only separating once they were forced to by the stairs. He had shoved the commentary to the back of his brain until Sirius leaned against the doorframe of their en suite, mouth full of toothpaste. “I still have that stick you know?” he mumbled.

“You what?”

“Even back then I knew you were something special,” Sirius shrugged, turning back into the bathroom, leaving Remus standing there still processing the words. Honestly, he didn’t think he was ever going to be prepared for the things that came out his fiancés mouth. And he wasn't sure he ever wanted be.

#Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Coops #Sweater Weather #Rating: G #lumosinlove

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4dtk · 3 years

Text

NCT 127: finding out you're older than them

“Hey, can I request an NCT127 reaction to finding out you're actually older than them when they thought you were much younger than them? (like you look really young despite your age lol)” thank u for waiting honey <3 ps i just used random years that are older than the members!

enjoy! this was fun to write ^^

→ TAEIL would have his mouth in an ‘O’, but more of a ‘ooh cool!’ way where he’s nodding repeatedly to nothing seconds after you’ve spilled the beans. it sinks in more later when he thinks of your birth years side by side and he’s like omg! i’m finally not the oldest and it garners a laugh out of you that you don’t mind being called old by him. honestly, you don’t mind being called old at all by the other members, since technically you are taeil’s s/o. the members are closer to the male, so when they call him old, you join in lol

“woah hyung/noona! i can’t believe you now take the place of oldest in our group,” mark says, although gets a smack from haechan for saying that.

“ack! sorry taeil-hyung and (y/n)-hyung/(y/n)-noona, mark’s mouth is a little big today.”

taeil waves it off, curling an arm around your waist to bring you closer as mark avoids eye contact. slowly the members crowd around the four of you, interested in the topic that’s taking place. it was well over 11pm in the practice room, and having just ended dance practice, they cooled down by taking part in the conversation.

“yeah! you finally can call someone else old!” another smack and a whine from mark accompanied by an apologetic look that wasn’t seen often on donghyuck.

“i’m sorry for them,” taeil whispers with a laugh, placing a kiss onto your cheek before taking a swig of water from his bottle. he takes your shaking head as acceptance of your new position of the oldest, pleased when you return his kiss with one to his lips.

→ JOHNNY is the one to pull a dramatic face lol. you know the one where his mouth is in a ‘O’ and his eyebrows are knitted. the expression is playful, but there’s a bit of genuine shock behind it. recovers from it quickly tho and jokingly calls you ‘daddy/mommy’ to annoy you. i can see him calling you the term later if you get married or have kids though, just in a third person kinda way - something like a running joke from when he discovered you were older years ago.

“no way, you’re born in 1992?” his jaw is dropped, eyes wide that makes you smile just a little, “holy shit you’re old,” there’s a fit of laughter when your hand lands on his back as a form of retaliation (“like you’re not!”), but you agree either way, shrugging nonchalantly at the year of birth.

“then maybe now i can call you daddy/mommy,” you groan at that, shoving him for real now as he lands on the sofa behind him and doyoung at the dining table contemplates whether he should interfere. he decides not to when you full on attack your boyfriend, although with half-assed punches as johnny continues to moan out theatrically in between attacks, “but for real though, next time, i wanna hear voices calling you.”

“the fuck? you mean in like a horror movie way?”

“nah, in the i wanna have a family way.” you gulp with a surprised expression and you launch a badly timed attack that hits him in the balls. you’re apologising with a fluster, johnny is groaning in pain. oh well, this could be story to tell your kids or adopted babies next time.

→ TAEYONG is making surprised noises. it’s so cute lol that you’re the one ending up teasing him about it. taeyong forgets it sometimes, so you have the pleasure of seeing him react like a couple of times bc it finally settles in his mind that you’re older than him. other than that, yong loves you all the same and sometimes acts like a baby just so you’d cave and take care of him. he argues that it’s only the right way! older s/o? you take care of me! i want to be babied.

“huh? you’re older than me?” taeyong asks, mindlessly digging through your stuff until he comes across your ID. he curiously sifts through the information on it, but the number of your birth year seemed to stand out the most.

you hum, placing the last bits of your mask on yourself as you turn back to your boyfriend with a similar look: hair band pushing his dyed hair back, with a mask like yours on his face.

a noise of approval spills from taeyong’s mouth, and you’re left giggling in confusion until he explains his reason for it. you nod through it, happy to give your boyfriend what he wants while he takes his place in your arms. “feels nice,” taeyong mumbles, loving the way you’re playing with his fingers before he asks a question with a small voice. “can we do this more often?”

“of course,” and now you’re glad for taeyong’s curiosity of your things, presenting you with the opportunity (and excuse) to hold your lover in your arms.

→ YUTA doesn’t care either tbh. he may be one of the ones to figure it out before the others - how? you don’t know either but i have a feeling he might’ve taken a look at your ID or something along those lines. mans just nods at the year. as long as you’re still yourself and don’t change how you act in the relationship obvi bc he’s dating you bc of how you’ve presented yourself so far. it’ll feel weird if you suddenly start to dote on him just because you’re older. still likes to take care of you <3

“hey babe? were you born in 1993?” yuta inquires one day at dinner, the whole table of members somehow going a little quiet at the revelation.

“mhm! how’d you know?” you tilted your head, placing a piece of fish into your mouth and ignoring the shocked faces on the faces of the different members.

“eehh- i just saw it on your ID accidentally the other day,” yuta smiles when wiggle your mouth around to feel for the fish’s bone, finally able to shoot your boyfriend a smile as you both go back to your dinner. your laugh is the one thing that’s heard across the table and the occasional clinks of chopsticks against porcelain, and you’re confident if you were on a sitcom, the camera would just have all the members staring into it in shock.

“is it that surprising?” you asked the members, some of them waving their hands and shaking their head, knowing that yuta would probably take it up to them if they happen to have a problem with it.

“so i actually needed to call you hyung/noona?! i’m so sorry!!!” mark exclaims, earning a giggle from you.

→ DOYOUNG would react a little intensely too, but more in a starstruck, quiet kind of way. he just has this wide eyed look that make you burst out in laughter at the discovery and his lips are making a funny shape. he nods it off calm and cooly, but inside he’s like oh my god wtf really???? why didn’t i know this holy shit are they going to leave me for not knowing you can see no thought behind his eyes but you know the man’s spiralling a little inside that you have to reassure him that it’s just a minor thing (he gets out of the dump pretty quickly). your age reveal doesn’t affect him much either.

“you’re- you’re older than me?” doyoung’s mouth dries, coffee cup hovering just below his lips as you drop the bomb without much care. it’s quiet in the early morning, having had just finished filming his relay cam, but you can practically hear doyoung’s thoughts. he’s brought of it when you place a hand on his wrist.

“babe, baby, it’s okay. i didn’t tell you anyway, don’t worry about it,” your smile is blinding, and it has doyoung smiling as well, agreeing along to your reasoning and slowly easing into his previous action of drinking his beverage before he halts again.

your head tilts in question. “what is it?”

your boyfriend waves it off with a shy smile, bringing your hand to his lips as he lands a kiss on the skin there, “nothing. just thinking about how much i love you.”

“did it change?”

there’s a blush on his cheeks when he says it, glad for the two of you being in the only ones awake. “no, not one bit.”

→ JAEHYUN would one way or another kind of know already, although he’s not 100% sure. he’s observant, sometimes content with watching you take care of the other members (poor guy gets jealous tho) or just cleaning up after him when he’s a little too tired to do things - like wash his hair and what not. even if you’re not a naturally ‘taking care of others’ person, jaehyun picks up on the things that he’s heard his friends talk about regarding their older siblings (since he’s an only child) or compares to how you act around the group that’s similar to taeyong or doyoung. i can see jaehyun being a little disappointed, but it doesn’t change much as long as he can keep the dynamic of the relationship (so him giving the affection with you in his embrace). jaehyun is a quiet kind of shock like doyoung.

“huh… you’re born in 1994?”

“sure am,” you’re filling out a form for a membership, pen scribbling with swiftness in order not to hold up the line. you pass it back in a minute as the cashier processes your membership, and you feel jaehyun squeeze your hand. “why, why? is it an issue?” you mumble a thank you to the cashier, heading out of the store hand in hand while you find a spot to talk to your boyfriend.

“no no,” jaehyun giggles, a low one that makes your heart flutter, and he leans down to place a kiss onto your lips. it lingers there longer than you expected and you feel his smile on your lips. “there’s no issue. it just kinda adds up, in a way. you’re such a natural at giving advice and taking care of the other members. i’m just… a little surprised, is all.”

you laugh at that, meeting his lips again in a loving peck, “okay, that’s good then!”

→ JUNGWOO says “woowww!” like video game commentary and claps. yes he claps, you’re not sure why either but he’s just so thrilled to learn of your birth year that he just nods along and gives you a thumb-up after. i can’t say he’ll be that shocked, more of like happy for you like you just told him you passed a test or something. when you ask him about it, he just shrugs and pats you on the back. it’s all part of his personality, though, and like taeyong/yuta, he wouldn’t care much apart from being able to call you ‘sunbaenim’ as a joke. sometimes calls you senpai LMAO

“woah, you’re older than me by four years?” jungwoo mumbles when you show him your old IDs, the topic of your birth year overriding the original goal of wanting to see your foetus pictures.

“hm? oh yeah, i guess i never really mentioned it, huh?” you continue with what you were doing, cleaning up the stray hairs sticking out from your hairdo before jungwoo comes back hugging with his long limbs and silky outfit.

“congrats!” he meets your eyes through the vanity mirror and proceeds to peck your cheek and your expression that follows next brings laughter to jungwoo’s chest. you can feel it move from behind you, hoping he wouldn’t mess up the hour you spent on your hair. “why congrats?” your lip is curled with a raise of your eyebrows as your boyfriend continues to hang off your shoulders.

he thinks, then replies with a dunno and leaves the area to settle back on the bed. the snap of his camera follows next, no doubt taking pictures of the serious face shots of your old ID cards.

→ MARK would be one of the ones that you think is over exaggerating, except he’s just that shocked. he would stumble over his words and texting johnny or whoever to tell him and be like “yoooo? huh? what?” mark would probably be the last one to make the connection and johnny is all like “yeah? u didn’t know?” and mark is like “HOW WOULD I KNOW THEY LOOK SO YOUNG?????!!” hysterical, this man. mark almost doesn’t believe it for a second and you have to take out your ID to show him lmfao

mark’s head snaps to you once he overhears you in conversation with the flyer distributor, catching your attention with something that was in line with your interests. mark tunes out the promoter explaining the features of the product, only coming back to earth when you mention your date of birth for a trial of their services.

“you’re WHAT? nah. no. no way, show me your ID.”

the other jumps back at the sudden exclamation while you just raise an eyebrow. sorry, excuse him, you mumble, and you’re dragging mark off to the side as you fumble in your bag to pull out your ID in exasperation. the timing is imperfectly perfect: mark bends down to inspect your birth year, you flip open the wallet a little too hard, it hits his head in a loud thwack!

“ow.” mark giggles, squinting his eyes to finally make out the fading ‘1998’ on your card, “oh! so the same as jungwoo hyung?” he giggles again, “he finally as someone to talk to!”

→ HAECHAN is shocked but would immediately mask it and go like “oh my! still so pretty, miss halmeoni,” he coos and you’re so ready to smack him. in a way acts like johnny but will not stop using the word on a daily basis (unless you tell him that you don’t like it). it becomes part of the pet names that he calls you, but he still likes the classic baby/honey/love. sometimes also like to whine with hyung/noona if he wants something, like a new video game or for you to buy food for him. other than that, haechan is pretty indifferent about you being older than him.

“hah?! you’re born in 1999?” haechan has his neck stuck out like a fish out of water, not posing that much difference since he’s just finished a shower. you make the bed with deftness, tucking in the duvet easily as your boyfriend approaches from behind.

he’s shocked, but before you can comment on it, he recovers quickly to deliver a quip through his toothpaste-filled mouth, “oh my! halmeoni, then you should take a seat!” your hands are on your hips, glaring at him while he only grins.

you indulge him, though, and take a seat on the newly made bed, relaxing into the softness of the sheets with elbows.

“if i’m considered elderly, then, you can do the housework for me, right?” the dread that slowly fills up haechan’s features make you explode into giggles, before pushing yourself up to come face to face with him.

“thought so,” you whispered, petting his head as you continue the clean-up of the room.

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dokifluffs · 4 years

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Injured | Ushijima Wakatoshi

Pariring: Ushijima X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fluffyyyy 🤧

Request: “Ushijima s/o taking care of him because he’s injured” - anonnie

Author’s Note: you got it, homie 🤧 Thank you for requesting and happy reading!! <3 I may have gotten a lil too carried away with this imagine 😗😗

It started when one day, you had to pick up Ushi from his practice about half an hour earlier than it was supposed to end

When you picked him up, he came out with crutches, his left foot bare but wrapped. Kageyama aided him and held the doors open for him, helping him into the passenger seat of your car

“Are you okay?” You asked as soon as he shut the door, the two of you waving Kageyama goodbye as he jogged back to practice

Fortunately, since it was the off season, practice wasn’t too long or as intense. Games were more spaced out than the games during the season, where games then were played more often

“Yeah,” he sighed dejectedly. You could see he was a little bummed out. It wasn’t the first time he had sprained his ankle- this was actually the second time but it happened again on the same ankle

“How’d it happen?” You refrained yourself from adding “this time” at the end. The first time, he rolled it and the doctor said it was a low grade one sprain but to make sure to stretch and be mindful while playing

“We were scrimmaging against each other and Romero got bumped into while blocking, so he handed on my ankle. It didn’t hurt too bad but it’s swelling a bit more than last time.” He looked at his foot as you drove through the city

Instead of going straight back home, Ushi had called his doctor before you picked him up so that’s where the two of you went to first

The day was cloudy, not too sunny but not too gloomy

Arriving there, you helped him out of the car and walked beside him as he walked with his crutches. The office was pretty empty so the wait was practically nonexistent

“You were very lucky this time, Ushijima-san. If the injury had been more severe, there could have been some permanent damage,” the doctor had said after running his physical tests and x-ray

You felt just the slightest bit of Ushi’s hand squeeze yours, his skin rough and warm from practice and years of playing. You couldn’t imagine what it felt like for him, the feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff and any further, he would’ve fallen: his volleyball career would have been over as soon as it started

Any permanent damage to his ligaments would have made his ankle weaker

But it wasn’t permanent. You heeded the doctor’s words carefully: let him rest, ice it for fifteen to twenty minutes every two to three hours, wrap it, elevate it

Again, this wasn’t your first time helping him out when he was injured but last time, it wasn’t as bad as this time. Last time, he was able to walk without applying too much weight that would cause him pain

The drive home from the doctor’s was calm. If Ushijima was feeling anything, you couldn’t read it on his face or the aura around him

“How was your day?” He asked, catching you off guard as you entered the neighborhood

“Oh, it was fine. I was doing a bit of work to get ahead and then I picked you up and here we are.” You worked from home, managing your own personal business as it steadily grew, especially overseas

Arriving home, you helped him out of the car and then held the front door for him. It was bright with a calming ambiance coming from the pale sunlight that shined through the tall windows, the light bouncing off the white walls

“I’m going to take a shower before resting,” he stated as he approached the stairs

You nodded as you dropped off your belongings on the kitchen counter but watched from behind him as he went up the stairs with his crutches, just in case anything were to happen

As soon as he was safely upstairs, you returned to the kitchen and prepared dinner. Music played all throughout the spacious room as you cooked away. You prepared a special hayashi rice for him knowing how much he liked it and maybe, this would raise his spirits a bit more

Though you didn’t even know if he was disheartened or not. Ushi was strong. He has been and always will be. You know this. He’ll rise to the world stage with his team and blow away any opponent he would face. You believed in him

When he came back down, he wore a simple, slightly baggy white shirt and black shorts, his hair just a bit damp but fresh with the shampoo he used

He came into the kitchen, the savory aroma scent of the hashed beef that you made, now dished in front of him as he sat down

The two of you peacefully ate dinner while the walls and lighting changed all around the room as the sun set over the horizon outside. It was quiet, filled with the sounds of the two of you eating, silverware to the dishes

You were actually stumped, not knowing what to talk about. The two of you had been together for years but it felt like the beginning when the two of you were first talking- but the thing was, the two of you at that phase didn’t know what to talk about

“Dinner is delicious, Y/N, thank you for making it.” He spoke, giving you a small smile

“Of course,” you said, bringing a bite of rice to your mouth. “I’ll prepare an ice bag after dinner,” you said, to which he nodded and that was basically all the two of you talked about for the rest of dinner

It felt weird

After dinner, he made his way to the living room, sitting on one of the lounge couches. Only a few slivers of light were shining as much as they could in the distance. You gathered the dishes into the sink but grabbed a bag, filling it with ice

Bringing it and a towel. When you approached him, he brought his leg up, setting it on a pillow

He tried to reach for the bag only for you to step away. “Let me,” you smiled. He sat back and relaxed as you placed the ice bag over the towel, draping both over his leg

“Talk to me, Ushi. You’ve been quiet..” you sat beside him on the edge of the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well..” he took your hands into his. His fingers rubbed across the palm of your hands every now and then as he gathered his words

“I was actually scared..” he admitted, taking you aback. “The thought of knowing how fast everything could’ve ended if it was worse”

Your hands closed around his hands, your thumbs rubbing over his knuckles continuously as you listened

His hands were far bigger than yours, stronger than you could ever know but to him, you were able to make him feel small despite you being up to his neck

The two of you spent the rest of the night just talking in the living room. One conversation let to another, your touch never leaving him

In bed, you made sure to be cautious with your movements, not accidentally kicking his leg

For the first time in a while, the two of you stayed up “late” which was really just an hour later, continuously talking

There was no need for him to be up and early for the next two weeks

It felt like you were falling for him all over again, it felt nostalgic

Sleeping, he laid on his back with a pillow beneath his leg as you slept beside him, your arm resting over his chest, close to his side

For the rest week, everyday was the same for the two of you. You prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner

You made sure he rested as much as he could but he couldn’t keep still the entire time. He lifted weights and worked with his upper body strength to make sure he would be able to come back stronger than ever

He played calm nature sounds over a speaker as he worked out, though you preferred music, but he preferred natural life

About a week passed and things were going smoothly

But tonight, the Adlers were playing a match against a team from the states and Ushi wouldn’t be there tonight

The two of you sat together on the couch in the dimmed living room after dinner, watching some tv before the game would go on live

You usually watched their games, sure to cheer him and his team on whenever you could but it felt different now that he was right beside you

The game went on and it was intense. The score was constantly neck and neck until the last bits where the Adlers were able to successfully pull ahead

Ushi’s sub wasn’t as strong as he was when he swung but he had a nasty cut, making the other team struggle with getting the ball back up to Kageyama

He made some commentary every now and then about what could’ve been done instead. Some plays even surprised him

He had seen games throughout high school and maybe a few Adlers’ games but the recordings were specific to only him to analyze his plays

But seeing the broadcasts were entirely different

Just as his eyes were settled on one angle, the camera switched

The Adlers were able to win in a 4-1 match

To you, it felt like after watching this match with him, it was like something changed. The usual times he worked out got a bit longer

He asked you to make some changes to his diet, which you complied and you even found him on the call with his doctor about things he could do to strengthen his ankle in a secure way that won’t damage it further while you were working in your office

Around the third week, he began to do some light stretches just to be safe for now and opted to use a single crutch more than two crutches

Whenever you were around Ushi after a game or even before, there were different distinct auras he would project as he drew himself to the game and his opponents

He was so passionate about the sport, you admired him for it

But the aura you felt as he stretched, worked out, the way his arm would snake around your waist a lot more often than when he would be playing everyday

To be honest, you really loved that he was home. Since you worked from home, you were pretty alone except for the days he came back from his practices, games, tournaments, and his rest days

It felt nice that you could take care of him and see him so often everyday. To wake up beside him and to still feel his touch against your skin and body when you woke up

Rolling into the fourth week, he began to stretch regularly. He was slowly able to walk but was careful about how much weight he was putting onto his leg

To return the favor, while you went out to get a couple things before you could really start dinner

He did the best that he could and in his mind, he planned to make a couple of dishes he knew how to- basic ones he’s seen you to so many times

Stepping through the door with a couple of bags in hand, a smile instantly spread across your lips as you watched Ushi standing still in front of the stove, wooden spatula in hand as he did his best to make the first dish

You set the bags on the counter, which he didn’t hear over the sound of the stove

You wrapped your arms around his back, burying your face into his toned back, how nice it felt to feel how warm his body was through the fabric of his shirt

Your hands rested on his chest as you took him in, enjoying every bit of the moment, even if he was slowly burning food

When the smell got a little too intense, you took over though there was no saving what he did but it was okay

“I just wanted to help out as a way of thanking you for taking care of me so much, Y/N,” his voice low in your ear, you could practically hear the rumble in with every word

He rested his hands around your waist with your back to his chest, holding you every so lightly in his arms but not tight enough to restrict you

He stayed beside you the entire time you made dinner, helping you out in any way he could, doing as you instructed

You didn’t know if it was just because of the moment the two of you were able to share but dinner tasted better than normal. Instead of sitting across from him, you sat beside him

He occasionally fed you bits of the dishes the two of you prepared and made together even though he was never really one to do this kind of stuff

It was a very sweet gesture though

Going into the sixth week, you drove him to his doctors once more for a check up. He didn’t need crutches to walk and it was a bearable to apply his weight onto his leg

“It seems like your sprain is almost fully recovered. To be safe, I recommend you continue your stretches but don’t jump right back into playing just yet for the best results,@ the doctor said while inspecting the new x-ray

Although he didn’t say it, you could feel just how eager he was to get back into gears, to play with his team again

He did the most he could to build strength in his legs and body but just enough to not over do it

Before you knew it, you were suddenly standing on the sidelines with a special pass at his first game back, the stadium filled and cheering loudly as the announcer announced his official return after a roughly six week rest

You wore one of his jerseys proudly and cheered him on from the sidelines

He was back stronger than ever and you knew this was going to be another win for the Adlers

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (send me an ask if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo

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taptroupe · 3 years

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as a wise person once said.... evergrace ost

I got permission to post the evergrace official soundtrack scans from vgmdb~~ i’m really happy. the evergrace wikia article on it now has a very nice facelift regarding that! (i’m planning on putting a link to my novel stuff on there and then running away forever lol)

and did you know that there was producer and composer commentary within the booklet from masanori takeuchi and kota hoshino respectively!? and that as far as i know, no one translated it yet :| why?! THERE WAS A WHOLE SOUNDTRACK SCRAPPED BECAUSE DEVELOPMENT WAS MOVED FROM PS1 TO PS2 GUYS!!!!!!

so i translated it with the help of deepl google translate high school japanese yknow the works. if you’re interested, and don’t wanna give page traffic to wikia because they are really shitty and bloated with ads, read it down below!

As some of you may know, the title Evergrace (subsequently referred to as EG) was originally developed for the PlayStation (subsequently referred to as PS). At the time, the development of the game was quite advanced, and I think it was about 50% complete. Naturally, the music was already made.

And then, it was suddenly decided to develop the game for the PS2, but at that time, the PS2 had not yet been released, and of course, there was a lot about the console’s power that we didn’t understand.

Through a lot of trial and error, we had to recreate everything from scratch for PS2, including the programming, modeling, animation, and textures. I was told that the sound system was technically not that different from the PS’s system, so I thought I would just reuse the PS music… I thought about it quite trivially. So I tried it out, combining PS music with the near-completed PS2 version of EG. Of course, I asked them to make the sound richer and to improve the sound quality for it. However, when I actually tested it out, I found out that the BGM that used to sound so good in the PS version no longer fit at all!

This made me a little nervous. When I think about it now, it would’ve made sense that it wouldn’t fit, but I didn't realize it until that moment. Hoshino [referred to as Hoshino-kun] seemed to have noticed the problem before I did, and it was easily decided that it’d be a bad idea to use the PS version, so we had to throw everything away and start over like the rest of the game.

In other words, the soundtrack you're listening to was created entirely for the PS2, with nothing reused from the PS version. However, the music in the PS version was also very good, so it is a shame that it never saw the light of day. For me personally, the PS version of Saramad Hill’s music [also known as “Sunbeams Streaming Through Trees on the Hill”] is still one of my favorites.

I believe that Hoshino's music played a very big role in establishing EG's world view. What do you think of it? By listening to this soundtrack, if you can feel the far-off winds of Rieubane, I would be very happy.

Evergrace producer, Masanori Takeuchi

***

Before the development of Evergrace (subsequently referred to as EG), I had a certain idea in my mind. I wanted to create a sound that was, in a lot of ways, something I could hold to myself, and I think I have achieved that by composing the music of EG which also had its own unique worldview.

I am also very grateful to the producer and everyone around me for allowing me to do what I wanted to do.

And with that, if people who listen to EG's soundtrack are able to feel the world of Evergrace, I would be very happy.

Evergrace composer, Kota Hoshino

#from software #kota hoshino #evergrace #also i do love the choice for the inside booklet art it encompasses evergrace (game) so much. the bros being led around by sienna

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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I am seized by a fatal need for courtroom ninja drama fic

But not serious courtroom drama. I'm talking Phoenix Wright style Nonsense.

(Some of this was provided by the folks over in @sloaners‘ server, but the bulk of it was me spitballing nonsense at people who actually know the games, which I do not. I do paraphrase a few times to make it more feasible as a tumblr post/fic concept, rather than a rapidfire text conversation.)

Or one of those like. Reality TV paternity test things? But specifically in my mind the people involved in the actual paternity are a married couple and someone that joined them to be their third, and Clan Elders are throwing a fit about how the baby might not be the heir by blood! while the actual parents are like "I could not care less, this is our child, all three of us, please stop getting involved."

HashiMitoMada would be a VERY good option for the paternity nonsense, mostly because I can see Madara screeching at his own elders about how he already said Izuna would be his heir and he's not changing his mind!

Tobirama is just begging the paternity test to work faster off-screen because he's the only person with the machines to make it happen.

(Hashirama is just. Moping in a corner.)

"I just had to INVENT a paternity test that works before the birth! I had to figure out how to test amniotic fluid! If you assholes make me do something this stupid on such short notice again, I will be digging some shallow graves!" "...for who?" "I haven't decided yet."

Anyway, jumping back to like a Phoenix Wright-style murder investigation.

The victim was Danzo. Even the prosecution isn't actually that interested in making sure someone gets arrested, but they're legally obligated to do at least try. A bunch of people all acting really suspicious about who killed him. There is at least one shitty fake mustache-on-glasses disguise to provide a paper-thin alibi.

WAIT The other thing this gives us is ninjas in three-piece-suits but half of them wear the suits wrong. I’m talking mismatched buttons. The wrong way of tying their tie. Sewn-on-cufflinks. This is Naruto, for instance.

Tobirama would wear it properly, except he's rushing about in a lab coat, screaming at everyone to get out of his way because he's The Entire Forensics Team.

(This is the part where I have to confess that I have only seen the live-action movie of Phoenix Wright, as I don't game, so I just have the live action and tumblr osmosis.)

At this point, of course, we gotta ask: Who is the most Belligerent Witness And who is the Helpful™️ Witness that's super enthusiastic but entirely useless

I can see, say, Mito being a solid witness that both defense and prosecution are really thankful for.

Modern gen you have like... Sasuke and Neji are both incredibly belligerent witnesses. Neji at least is polite about it but pulls the "only answers with the absolute minimum of information."

Lee and Gai would have the over enthusiasm but forget to say actual vital testimony until pressed, and Naruto would love to help but might not be entirely sure what the case even is.

Shikamaru falls asleep when the lawyers consult their partners. Prosecution A consults Prosecution B for thirty-seven seconds, then turns around and the witness is asleep at the stand.

Tobi (as in Obito with mask) is an incredibly frustrating witness. They have to declare a recess just so all the lawyers can recover their blood pressure. "Can we please get someone up on the stand with this guy as a handler? I'm--I'm going to explode."

Gaara: Helpful. Polite. Answers with detail. Answers the spirit of the question as well as the letter. Includes more detail. That's too much detail. Gaara please stop telling us about the sounds that bones make.

His testimony just drags on forever.

Ninken can and will take the stand! Pakkun even enjoys it! Some ninken require translators.

ABURAME TRANSLATING FOR A RANDOM GIANT CENTIPEDE THAT WITNESSED A MURDER IN THE FOREST OF DEATH

There are arguments about whether or not the testimony can count since nobody else can confirm the translation except Other Aburame so how do they know the Aburame aren't part of the coverup.

"Okay, so this Danzo guy had like fifty shell companies but I think I found the route that leads back to him?" "Nah, that one goes to a guy that died eighty years ago that's still collecting pensions: his family lied and said he was still alive for the money." "Fuck!"

Also I just. I love the idea of Sasuke and Madara being the exact opposite kind of belligerent witness.

Also, Orochimaru answers with pretty much the exact kind of wording as Gaara, but where Gaara is trying to be helpful and provide detail for the sake of the case, and failing to see that it's maybe not necessary, Orochimaru just wants to see people squirm. ...similar thing happens with Sakura and Kabuto. Similar phrasing, very different energy.

I keep picturing all of Team Taka as part of Forensics and Evidence Collecting ajshakshjd

Juugo, holding up a rabbit: I found a witness.

Karin joins forensics and Tobirama nearly weeps from joy until he finds her criminal record "Shit, that was supposed to get thrown out when I turned eighteen."

Tobirama: I asked for an assistant, not a criminal. Karin: I'm on parole. Tobirama: That makes things worse. Karin: I know how to use a [concerningly advanced machine that I, a business major, cannot name]. Tobirama: ...never mind, I'm keeping you.

Karin: I know how to DNA sequence AND use LA-ICP-MS Tobirama: [weeps with joy]

Suigetsu would be great at blood splatter analysis. ...I think I read somewhere that blood spatter analysis is actually over in 'fake science that's pushed by cops and media but actually doesn't work' BUT apparently it’s in the Ace Attorney games so we’re going to ignore reality a bit. We’ve already got dogs and rabbits and centipedes as witnesses, what’s a bit of blood spatter?

He's also probably really good at cause of death stuff? Like looking at corpse and figuring out how long it took the victim to die, which blow did it, whether any damage was inflicted post-mortem, etc.

Sasuke is usually too busy playing Belligerent Witness but sometimes goes to join Taka for... uh... reasons.

Juugo: [takes the stand] Lawyer: Hey, uh, why's that Uchiha guy with him? The witness-- Judge: No, no, we need Uchiha Sasuke on hand when questioning Expert Animal Handler Juugo. Lawyer: ...why? Judge: Property damage.

(Sasuke as a work partner with Juugo, also moonlighting as a witness/suspect in Danzo's murder.)

One time they need Juugo but can't find him even though court is already in session and he said he'd be here, turns out he was lured away by Kakashi's army of dogs. Kakashi didn't notice until he turned to ask Pakkun if he could help find the missing expert.

Juugo is a decent lab assistant, I think?

Anyway.

Tobirama taking on Team Taka as his forensics team while Orochimaru is... hm... traveling the country to promote his new autobiography, which is outselling the newest Icha Icha to Jiraiya's ire.

Sloane suggested “a case where it's all the Sannin as suspects in a murder. They would be THE WORST, say... the murder of Hanzo.”

To which I suggested “The Sannin are all suspects but the people on trial are the Ame trio, maybe?”

Which garnered the response of “It could be a surprise upset IN COURT that the trio should be on trial.”

We love a court upset.

Suigetsu finds out that the cause of death was actually an entirely natural heart attack, but while he was determining this, the rest of the team and the lawyers found like eight conspiracies by Zetsu, three by Danzo, four by Orochimaru, and an entire network of nonsense by Sasori.

INO IS THE PSYCHIC. I know her thing in canon is reading minds but pls. Ino is Maya. The Spirit Medium.

Is the judge: 1. Hiruzen 2. Hashirama 3. Hagoromo 4. Mifune 5. The Daimyou

(Old dude with authority, optionally easily distracted/questionably competent. I'd have gone for impressive facial hair but only Mifune and Hagoromo have more than like... Hiruzen's weird soul patch.)

It's not a soul patch but I don't know what facial hair is called and I can't just call it a goat beard

Response commentary was as follows: The Daimyou would unfortunately be closer to the personality of the ace attorney judge, more blindly agreeing with things that sound good :joy: Hiruzen could be fun if only for the competing facial hair for a beard, yes xD Hagoromo would possibly be most buckwild tho WELCOME TO MOON COURT

I managed to get this far with like... NO idea who the judges were except “IDK maybe Kakashi?” but consider:

...HashiMada rival lawyers

Dropping over to Izuna vs. Touka for when Hashirama and Madara inevitably become suspects of something or other themselves and have to be witnesses.

(Tobirama's too busy running blood tests, Anija, let Touka handle it, she's better at people anyway.)

...Hashirama is like. Marginally more put-together than Madara, right? So that... makes him Edgeworth... somehow... That feels wrong but Madara as Edgeworth feels even more wrong.

Madara is very into screaming OBJECTION

ALSO consider: Friction when a doctor from a nearby hospital gets called in to provide expert testimony on something because Karin is like "no hey I should be the one doing this" and then she sees how cute Sakura is.

But also at some point Kakashi vs. Gai for a nonsense case. Their personalities are both VERY FUN for this sort of thing.

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Forget Me Too (Taywhora) - Cashmere

A/N - A smutty yet angsty one shot dedicated to junosjukebox for encouraging me to play in the world of the DRUK. Love you, love your work. Can also be found on Ao3 under the pen-name crygiankie-trash

You want me to forget you Okay, forget me too You tell me you hate me Baby, yeah, I bet you do

“I fucking hate you” the words are mumbled against Tayce’s shoulder as she’s pressed against the wall, skirt hiked up around her waist as Tayce’s hand slips into her underwear not looking at all surprised when her fingers slide easily through the arousal that graces her fingertips before giving a low chuckle, one that has no business going straight to Aurora’s pussy, clenching pathetically around the single digit that Tayce has slipped inside her. “Is this all for little old me?” her tone is low, husky, lips pressed to the shell of her ear. “Don’t fucking flatter yourself Tayce” the words however don’t have the desired effect when they leave Aurora’s lips, her usually venomous tone, breathy and weak as her hips give an involuntary jerk as Tayce easily adds another finger, her thumb brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves already heightened from her earlier ministrations. “I fucking hate you” the statement leaves her lips again, shaky and uncertain but it’s not at all surprising when Tayce’s nose brushes hers, dark eyes that are positively feral boring into her own; “I bet you do baby, but you’re still going to come all over my hand like a good girl, aren’t you A’whora?”

I saw you walk in the room and I tried my best Not to panic while I’m lookin’ for the back door I smell the perfume and it’s obvious I’m gonna stay and put my key in the back more

Kryptonite. She might have been a self confessed ‘bad bitch’ but the minute Aurora flashed those sultry eyes at her, Tayce knew she was a goner. The small miniskirt that rides up toned thighs that have been draped over her shoulders and bracketed her head countless times, the breasts that she knows will harden to dusky peaks under the smallest touch, lips that press against hers and throw every sense of self preservation she has out the window. It’s all wrapped into a delectable package that she knows Aurora deliberately chose to taunt and tease, in the game of give and take that they fall into over and over again.

Her outfit covers everything that it needs to, unlike Bimini who honestly runs a very real risk of being arrested for public indecency, but Tayce can’t keep her eyes off her. A cup of Ginny’s latest vaguely lemon scented concoction is raised to her lips, and from her vantage point across the room, she can see the smear of red gloss it leaves behind on the white plastic of the cup in her hand, the same one that’s smeared too many of her good shirts, that she’s scrubbed off her skin and washed out of her pillowcases. She’s got give or take 45 seconds to get out of the door before Aurora pounces, though the brief moment of hesitation has cost her time, and before she can make it across the room. The statuesque blonde is in front of her, makeup immaculate and Tayce wants nothing more than to force her to her knees, and not only wipe that look off her face but destroy that lipstick and perfect facade, and have her begging to be touched. Ruined. “Going somewhere?” Aurora’s voice sing-songs out, a teasing lilt to her tone as a groomed brow is raised, one hand tipped with talon like nails brushes against the buttons of her shirt, flicking one open with practiced ease, dragging the tip of her nail against the skin she uncovers. Her perfume; strong and heady permeates the air around them and overtakes Tayce’s senses, her hands coming to grip at the blonde’s hips, relishing in the soft gasp as they’re pulled together, bodies pressing against each other; fitting seamlessly, lips chasing the daring neckline of the scrap of material that Aurora’s trying to pass off as a top, before rasping out “Your room or mine?”

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t pretend to forget you The reason I punch a hole in the wall back home For the amount they fucked? They could double that amount with fighting. A screaming match here, an argument at the local pub, Aurora being carried out of the club by a bouncer as she screamed obscenities at the girl who dared put her hands on Tayce, or the time Tayce punched a hole clean through the plasterboard because Aurora dragged someone through the door after yet another disagreement and gave Tayce the bird from the top of the stairs, her moans deliberately carrying through the halls. Fucking, fighting. Not talking for days on end before crashing back together in a flurry of clothing, snapped comments of ‘I hate you’, and harsh bruising kisses that left their lips swollen and red and their chest and thighs with marks that took days to fade.

And then a couple hours later we’re in Room 29 at The Chateau

A glass of champagne sits next to her on the bedside table, as Aurora perches on the end of the bed painting her toenails a soft shade of baby pink, her face devoid of makeup bar a swipe of hydrating lip balm, her hair bundled into a messy top-knot, the tip of her tongue poking out from between her lips as she concentrates, pushing the sleeves of the fluffy white robe past her elbows before huffing a sigh and wiggling her toes in Tayce’s direction. “Taaaayce! Help me?” the whiny tone would be annoying if it was anyone other than Aurora, but since it is? Tayce finds it almost endearing and allows the blonde to rest a slender foot in her lap and takes over painting her toenails. “So needy A’whora” her tone is gentle, teasing before pressing a soft kiss to the blonde’s ankle. It’s just them, unguarded and a little champagne drunk, from Veronica’s rehearsal dinner, and once again? She’s lured in by the platinum haired siren.

A series of soft kisses start at Aurora’s ankles, peppering up well defined calves, and along tanned thighs until she reaches the apex of her thighs, and she can see how much Aurora wants her, she can smell her, can see the way her pussy glistens wet, and warm and when she unties the robe and lets it fall to the bed? Aurora looks nothing short of ethereal in the glow from the lamp. “Tayce, Tayce, Tayce” the words flow from her lips like a wanton mantra when Tayce delves into her as if she’s a starved man gorging himself at a banquet bringing the girl above her to incoherency over and over again, the familiar taste of her against the flat of her tongue, arousal slick around her mouth and sticking to her chin as she diligently works to bring the blonde undone over and over again leaving her shaking like a leaf and reaching out, their hands entwining as they catch their breath, Aurora’s movements languid and lazy as she sits up and moves Tayce’s robe off her shoulder before murmuring quietly “…my turn’.

I left before you woke up I don’t feel right, seeing you sober

She looks angelic, all pale skin and cosmetically enhanced pouty lips, her hair spread across the pillow in tangled blonde waves, her lashes flutter against high cheekbones with a smear of highlighter still stubbornly stuck on the skin there, and Tayce feels guilty, and does what she does best. She runs before she has to feel what waking up to Aurora’s eyes feels like, before she can be convinced to curl around her and feel the press of lips against her neck. The quiet laughter and the sleepy demands to stop thinking and spoon her that little bit longer. The way she’d hold the sheet to her chest, the swell of her breasts visible underneath the thin cotton and ask her to stay. Because Tayce would, but then she’d have to acknowledge her feelings, and she’s not at the point of doing that, because Aurora deserves so much more than what she can offer her. So she does what she does best and runs pointendly ignoring the pitying look Tia gives her as she puts on her sneakers and shoves her airpods in her ears before heading out the door.

You want me to forget you Okay, forget me too You tell me you hate me Baby, yeah, I bet you do

Sometimes the tables turn and Aurora plays Tayce at her own game. They’re both needy, possessive in their own way. Though Aurora is always more vocal about it, her naturally nasal tone gives her a whiny edge. Whereas Tayce in her anger is for the most part silent, with icy eyes and a harsh set of her jaw, one particular look that Lawrence notices directed at a girl that comes around to take A’Whora on a date. Cherry, a dark eyed nurse with waist length black hair that swings around her shoulders and a distinctive laugh that rings through the thin walls of their sharehouse. She’s pretty, funny and caring to boot and doesn’t seem to mind Aurora’s filthy humor or occasionally acerbic commentary. She stays around for longer than the others and Aurora seems almost content for a time, avoiding Tayce’s eyes, being alone with her. Though in company? She seems almost coy, her tanned manicured fingers weaving between Cherry’s pale ones, her gaze flicking over to Tayce from time to time and full of either feeble excuses of why she can’t come into Tayce’s room to watch Derry Girls for the 8th time, knocking on the bathroom door before she comes in.

She overhears a conversation between them, a laugh coming from Aurora, and a “shhh babe, you don’t have to worry about that. Tayce and I are just friends, barely’ before giving a scornful laugh. “No seriously babes, forget it. Tayce and I weren’t ever anything. Lawrence just wants everyone to have some sort of sexual tension because she wouldn’t be able to get it for herself if it smacked her in the mouth’, before their voices trail off and the soft smacking sound of lips connecting takes it’s place, and Tayce silently fumes, carrying her sandwich back to her room, teeth gnashing at the soggy bread angrily. “I hate you, I hate you” an ongoing loop in her head, despite knowing she really doesn’t and that if the moment arose? She’d end up back in A’Whora’s bed before the night was through.

I’m keepin’ you waitin’ But I won’t wait on you You want me to forget you Okay, forget me too

Drunken words are sober thoughts; at least according to a very inebriated Lawrence Chaney, which is why Tayce is currently sitting in a gutter, shoes next to her with a half eaten kebab in her handbag before Lawrence rambles in eloquently about how great her ‘fun bags’ looked in her new bra, how cute Ellie looked in her pink dress; though what pink dress confused Tayce since 98% of Ellie’s wardrobe consisted of pink dresses giving Tayce not only a view of the mouthful of masticated kebab that Lawrence was yet to swallow but also an earful of Lawrence’s thoughts.

“She’s nee gonna wait for you hen. Not if you keep up this shite” Lawrence’s voice is slurred, but the conviction is strong. “She loves ya you know? But yee keep running. Now I’m a runner too see? I run from me problems, and I run me mouth” before she leans forward, silvery coloured hair covering her face as she violently retches into the gutter under them. “When are youse going to sort your shite huh? Literally making me sick” and Tayce refuses to reply, instead focusing on gathering up Lawrence’s hair and holding it back refusing to let the words sink in until she’s lying in bed with Aurora snoring gently next to her, an arm draped across her torso.

I’ve wasted so much time Waitin’ around for your phone calls every night Aurora knows she’s an idiot, from insisting that her blonde is natural and that she just happened to be born with dark roots and eyebrows, that she can’t do maths, and that it took her a grand total of five times to get her drivers licence. But she’s also an idiot emotionally. She sits at home, the rapid click of her overlocker becoming a soothing beat as she feeds garment, after garment through the machine, the little metallic tap of her needle hitting the silver thimbles that protects the pads of her index fingers and thumbs as she painstakingly threads through another tiny bead, the ancient grandfather clock against the opposite wall showing the time as 3.55am.

“I’ll be home by 11, Asttina and I are gonna have dinner and I’ll call you after!’ Tayce’s empty promises run through her head before she sets the nearly constructed dress aside sighing, another night gone to waste, another broken promise before heading into the cake scented kitchen where Ginny is zipping around like she’s just downed a handful of uppers before offering a still steaming slice of tea cake to her. “Fancy a slice Babs?” her gaze still full of concern, but wisely choosing to say nothing already too familiar with the situation unfolding.

‘Cause I taste blood when you bleed It’s eatin’ me alive We’d both be better off alone Still think I’d get you on the phone With one last breath in me I’d die before I’d let you leave

They come crashing together again, a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing, their hands making quick work of Tayce’s trousers and Aurora’s skirt, their underwear carelessly discarded and their shirts following in quick unison. It’s rough, needy and everything they ever were, and will continue to be. Tayce raises her hand and brings it down hard on Aurora’s ass, the handprint blooming scarlet on the the pale flesh, with the hissed order to prepare herself as Tayce pulls the harness over her hips and adjusts it, lubing up the silicone as she moves back towards the bed, and where Aurora waits for her, three fingers deep in her own cunt, arousal webbing between her fingers and her opening when Tayce guides them out before pressing in with the strap.

The resounding moan from this both can only be described as primal. Her hips snap, thrusting into the blonde as Aurora bucks back into her, giving as good as she gets, her words mashing together in a cacophony of swears, please and Tayce’s name, before coming with a scream as Tayce’s teeth sink into her shoulder in a bid to muffle her own orgasm, the coppery taste of blood heavy on her tongue and flipping their positions. She looks like a queen, her usual platinum hair glowing golden in the lamplight, swept back like a lion mane as her hips move confidently, her posture perfect, like the very strap she’s sitting on is a throne, long lashes fluttering as she rides to another orgasm before flopping on the bed next to Tayce, an acrylic nail tracing the ebony areola of Tayce’s nipple asking plaintively “….Don’t leave tonight?’

You left before I woke up Why don’t I ever see you sober? You want me to forget you Okay, forget me too

She wakes up in her own bed, swathed in pale blue mulberry silk sheets with a stomach of churning liquor and a head as heavy as an elephant. A manicured hand reaches out blindly next to her feeling for the warmth of the body next to her only come back empty, the sheets retaining a hint of warmth and the faint scent of perfume. No note, no nothing. Her other hand reaches out, locating a glass of lukewarm water that tastes faintly of dust but that clears the cotton balls from her throat and gives her the strength to open her eyes. No note, no nothing. Just a faint indentation on the pillow and a strap on the floor still streaked with the remnants of her orgasm. Her eyes roll, a breath huffed out between filler filled lips before she settles back to sleep, waking up hours later when Tia sneaks into her room and sits on the end of the bed, all gangly limbs and kind eyes before asking concerned ‘You okay bitchtits?’ and Aurora gives a tight nod in return before shrugging ‘fuck ‘em right?’ though she can see in Tia’s eyes that she doesn’t believe her but Tia ever the faithful friend; squeezes at her knee over the covers echoing “Yeah. Forget her’

You tell me you hate me Baby, yeah, I bet you do I’m keepin’ you waitin’ But I won’t wait on you You want me to forget you? Okay, forget me too The sound of a hard slap rings across the lounge room and Tayce winces, holding her jaw knowing a bruise will bloom to fruition by tomorrow, and she can’t even fault Aurora knowing that she deserves that and probably so much more. That turning up to Bimini’s party with Pippa on her arm was a dumb idea, especially since the girl was wearing a dress that could only be described as low rent version of Aurora’s, her veneers gleaming harshly under the ambiance lighting connected to the google home assistant that perches on the bench pulsing out a spotify playlist that Lawrence had dubbed ‘every good LGBTQIA, LMNOP party anthem of the past decade’ and Aurora had kept her composure until they’d come face to face, the old magnetic pull still there as strong as ever, their gazes locked in a staring contest before Aurora had commented plainly ‘You left, again. And then ghosted me. Again. God I don’t know why I keep waiting for you to change” before Tayce had shrugged plainly in return, a smirk touching at the corner of her lips unsure how to react to the situation before panicking as Pippa approached. “Sounds like a you problem Girl” immediately regretting the words as they leave her mouth, as a pained expression flits across Aurora’s immaculately painted face and her hand rises making contact before she swivels on her heels and storms away, the click of the front door somehow rising above the music, a sudden iciness that has nothing to do with the blast of January air that permeated the room and chilling Tayce to her bones as the party rolls on around her.

Hey you Tell me why you do the things that make me hate you? It’s an emotional kaleidoscope when I face you Permanent calligraphy, I just tattooed your name on me forever Her hand stings, though so does the biting wind that cuts into the bare skin of her arms and she’s not sure what pain she’d rather feel. The cold, or the emotional turmoil of seeing Tayce again, or the fact she knows deep down that she’d go back over and over again and that the hazel eyed beauty has gotten so far under her skin that she’s essentially tattooed her name over Aurora’s heart, and that each time she leaves? She stomps on it before closing the door.

A weight sits down beside her, a robust purple clad arm wrapping around her and warming her up as she leans into the familiar figure, giving a smile at the thick Scottish accent asking something that sounds distinctively like ‘U ok hun?’ before shrugging and not at all surprised when Lawrence sheds her jacket and draps it over her before passing a flask of whisky over, content to sit there for a little longer before Lawrence stands up. “Now c’mon. I can’t go freezin’ me clit off. Ell’s will kill me. Lets get you inside aye. Ignore her. We’ll go get Bim’s vodka and get you buzzing off ya tits.You know you’re not gonna get an answer off her Hen’ and so Aurora goes back into the house, trying to avoid the eyes that keep meeting hers, not at all surprised when Tayce slips outside without saying goodbye.

She hates her, but god she wants her, and when she’s tucked back into bed. The silken sheets now a stone grey flannel for the winter caress her skin as her hand moves between her legs, lips moving soundlessly as she brings herself undone, mouthing the same word over and over again. “Tayce”

You want me to forget you? Okay, forget me too

They meet in a coffee shop, somewhere neutral that isn’t enveloped in memories of them, and when things were easier. Aurora’s lips are still glossy and red streaking the white mug in front of her. Tayce’s hair hangs to her waist, bleached a vibrant shade of blonde that makes her look more striking than ever, especially when paired with the scarlet trench-coat that streamlines her figure. Their conversation ebbs and flows between them. Work, weather, their friends, a cocktail bar that just opened up, holiday plans, Aurora’s grandparents before it turns to a more serious discussion. Them.

“Do you think you’ll ever be ready?” Aurora; ever the brave one finally asks, sending Tayce lapsing into silence giving a shake of her head once, twice. Her lips pressing together as she works to find an answer, an apology, an excuse even but draws a blank each time, and Aurora can’t hide the look of disappointment that marrs her features, a deep crease appearing between her eyebrows in a display that she hasn’t gotten her botox recently. “Then forget me Tayce, whatever we had, or whatever we were? Forget me”

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #taywhora #a'whora #tayce #smut #lesbian au #cashmere #uk2

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cloud9in · 3 years

Text

Food and Games

Summary: Bea and Veronica are paired together to bake a cake. Neither of them know how to bake, and neither of them want to address the elephant in the room.

Pairing: MC (Bea) x Veronica

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Uh none..well a little frisky behavior

Tags: @samanthadalton @satrinadia @kamilahsayeet2063

I also don’t know how to bake a cake so I apologize in advance if I fucked that up lol.

“Do you seriously have to film us baking this V?”

Bea stood behind the kitchen island, a frown plastered on her face as she stared at the girl with her phone out. Thanks to Poppy, they were both in charge of baking a cake and extra goodies for the annual Zeta Banquet. Bea had first refused to do it, mainly because Poppy had asked her, and good things never happened when the blonde came looking for a favor. Well, “looking” is an understatement, she practically barged into Bea’s dorm and demanded the girl to show up the next day without question. The brunette wanted to give Poppy a mouthful on what “knocking” was, but the mention of Veronica had caused her to perk up in curiosity. Bea had only spoken to the vlogger a total of two times and it was never enough to get Veronica to actually look at her. Or so she had assumed. But Bea had always caught herself staring at the girl for too long, her eyes wandering down her toned figure. And when they locked eyes, maybe it lingered for too long, but it was never enough.

Bea couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing that she was now alone with her crush. Emphasis on crush because Bea was falling hard for Veronica. She didn’t know if it was because of her looks, or the way she bites her lip in concentration while trying to get the perfect angle, or the captivating smile that revealed small hints of dimples whenever she would laugh. Whatever it was, Bea knew that she was in trouble because there was no way she could resist herself around the hazel-eyed girl.

“It is completely necessary for me to film this. Are you not aware of what I do for a living newbie?” Veronica rolled her eyes dramatically, adjusting her hold on the selfie stick. “Rule number one of hanging around Veronica: you will be filmed.”

Bea raises an eyebrow, a subtle smile plastered on her face. She leans against the island, placing a finger under her chin in thought, “oh so you make the rules huh?”

The brunette had figured if she was going to be here for quite a while, why not make it fun? Judging by the playful smirk that Veronica gives her, she was on the right track. Maybe they would get closer after this task, Bea could only hope.

She watched as Veronica lowered the stick and slowly inched around the counter until they were face to face. The close proximity brought scorching heat, but when Veronica cupped Bea’s chin and tilted her head forward, it was enough to knock the air out of her lungs. The brunette tensed in anticipation, her hand just barely grazing the skin of her waist that was exposed by her crop top.

Veronica smiled sweetly, watching how easily Bea became flustered. She decided that two could play this game.

“I do in fact make the rules...and I also like to be in control.”

The Zeta girl nearly choked with laughter as she witnessed about seven different emotions dance across Bea’s face. She leaned more heavily against the brunette until her lips were only a whisper away from her ear. “You know what?”

Bea could feel a jolt of electricity run across her whole body but it was quickly subdued by the hot breath of the girl against her. Is this actually happening?

“...What?”

Veronica gently stepped back and turned her head in the direction of the grocery bags on the counter

“...I think I’m going to get the ingredients out, why don't you preheat the oven for me?” With a sly smirk she started unpacking the bags, leaving Bea standing there in shock. Another minute passes before the brunette finally gets her heartbeat to steady, turning towards the stove. “Okay...this should be simple. Just click some buttons Bea.”

Veronica quirks an eyebrow after noticing her visible struggle, she sighs quickly losing patience. “Just press the arrows until it says 374°F, and preheat it for at least 20 minutes.” Bea gave her a sheepish (but thankful) smile before getting back to the task. The two girls had made some progress with preparing the batter, and Bea was given the job of lining the pan with parchment paper and butter. Simple enough right? Nope. It was clear that neither of them had any experience with baking a cake, and Veronica wasn’t pleased at all. “You seriously don’t know what else to add in this mixture? You didn’t learn to bake at the farm? I mean you tended chickens for a reason right…?”

Bea huffs with frustration before wiping her palms against her forehead. “Excuse me?! That makes zero sense V....”. The brunette wanted to yell at the girl but that wouldn’t help the predicament they were in. They were running out of time and had to bake a total of eight Bundt cakes for the banquet. Bea had been so wrapped in her thoughts that she almost missed a giggle erupting from the other side of the kitchen. She shot a glare over at the Zeta. “What’s so funny?”

Veronica held on to the cabinet knob for support as her giggles turned to full blown laughter. She pointed to Bea’s face before her eyes widened with mischief, without another blink she grabbed her phone and started filming her partner. Bea was completely oblivious to what was happening until catching a glimpse of her face in the mirror across the room. The brunette stared in horror as pure white flour was smudged generously on her forehead. She whipped her head back to the flash of the camera and sprinted forward, “don’t you even dare...” Veronica screamed with excitement as she hit the “live” button on Pictagram.

“Here we have a wild Bea in her natural habitat!”

A goose chase had begun in the kitchen. Bea tailed Veronica around the island while everyone on the other side of her screen watched the pursuit. If the brunette hadn’t been the one subjected to humiliation, she would find this whole scene funny as hell. But the simple fact that this video would make its way onto the T, and into Poppy’s hold, made her groan internally. Bea felt her calves start to burn as she kept running around in a circle. This was silly, what the hell were they doing? She started to laugh carelessly, a bright smile on her lips as Veronica continued her commentary. “She won’t stop chasing after me! Someone call animal control-”

*CRASH!*

A loud noise causes the Zeta girl to stop in her tracks and look behind. The bowl of chocolate batter was splattered all over the ground as Bea held her ankle tightly, her face scrunched up in pain. Veronica set her phone down and immediately rushed to her side, “Oh my god Bea, are you okay?!” She began to panic, reaching out to caress her bruised skin. The scene before her was so touching that Bea was almost guilty for what she was about to do, but revenge was inevitable. As soon as Veronica looked the other way, the brunette grabbed a goop of batter and dabbed it across her cheeks. Normally, Bea would fear for her life, but the look on the Zeta”s face was worth every bit of the potential lecture she would hear later. It wasn’t like Veronica would actually beat her up for it, I mean what's a little chocolate gonna do to her perfect face? The normal coolness in Veronica’s hazel eyes were now a challenging glare, and Bea knew she was done for.

“Oh you are so dead for that...”

The brunette had braced herself for a real impact this time, but the only thing she felt was a warm, sticky layer of chocolate coat her nose, neck, and cheeks. Bea gasped loudly, looking up to see a very smug Veronica trying to scoop up more dough. “Oh it's on!”

The two girls dodged and lunged at each other with fistfuls of cake residue. Veronica barks out a laugh, “I can’t believe I’m allowing this to happen right now..” Bea only smiles before grabbing a hold of the girl’s waist and pushing her roughly against the counter. She pins her arms in place and leans in with a smirk, “and to think you caught none of it on video..” Bea bites her lip to hold in a laugh as she watches Veronica eyes widen in realization. “My phone! The viewers are still probably on-”

Bea grabs her waist tighter with one hand, the other reaching behind her neck.

“They can wait, first I want to do this.”

If you asked Bea to describe the first thing that comes to mind when hearing the word “heaven”, she would tell you about this exact moment. Every touch, every taste, every sound made her feel like she was on cloud nine. Her lips had crashed against Veronica’s as they fought for dominance. A sharp squeeze to Bea’s backside caused her to falter and let the other girl’s tongue slip into her mouth. She pushed Veronica until her back was almost painfully digging into the table top as their tongues tangled. A desperate moan escaped from the Zeta as Bea captured her bottom lip, sucking off the rest of chocolate batter and releasing her lip with a pop. She pulled back to look into her hazel eyes, glazed and teary with want. Veronica grabbed Bea by the neck and slowly licked her tongue up the trail of the sweet mix, earning a gasp of approval by the brunette.

“You like that don’t you?”

It took all of Bea’s self respect to not submit to her right then and there. She grinned, looking towards the stairs and back at Veronica. Before she could respond, a ringtone fills the air of the kitchen, pulling them both out of their lust filled trance. Veronica rushed to her phone and saw Poppy displayed on the caller id.

“Shit...”

She let the call ring out and noticed that her live ended randomly. Well maybe they couldn’t hear what went on in the room. Maybe. If so, Veronica would never hear the end of it.

She sighed, floating back to reality. “Crap, Poppy is going to be pissed that we haven’t made any progress...”

“Well...you were too much of a distraction..” Bea glanced over at her with a brazen look. She didn’t know how much Veronica’s viewers had heard, but it was the last thing on her mind. Her lips throbbed with need as she felt the lingering kisses that Veronica had previously assaulted her with. It seemed as if the Zeta could read her mind, eyeing her with a knowing look and blush.

“...Well we could always order the Bundt cakes, Poppy’s too dumb to know the difference...and we’ll have more time to kill...”

Veronica had stepped closer once more, and so did Bea. The brunette didn’t know how she ended up in this position, but she didn’t mind it one bit. Not when Veronica is giving her a look that only a predator would give its prey. With one last survey of the messy kitchen, she turns to Veronica with fire in her eyes.

“I like the sound of that…”

#playchoices #queen b #veronica lombardi #mc x veronica #choices stories you play #yeah if you wanna be added to perm taglist #lemme know #I'm still cringing at my attempt to talk about cooking

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

Text

“SIX IDOLS”

CHAPTER 5: “NAGARE.02” (Complete)

* K - Six Idols (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

"Emerald smoke for you..."

Hearing the familiar voice, Sukuna Gojo raised his face.

A scrambled intersection in Shizume where many people come and go. It projected a familiar face onto a huge screen that dominated him. It was a popular idol, Mishakuji Yukari, who belongs to the same unofficial office as Sukuna, "Jungle Pro".

"A stranger in the mirror. Yes, that's true. That's you."

As he waits for the traffic light, he looks up in amazement.

He knew he was in a cosmetic commercial, but Yukari uses feminine cosmetics by all means. Sukuna thinks that even though he is a decent man, it is amazing that he does not feel any discomfort in such commercials.

"Oh, it's Yukari-sama! I have to take a picture!"

"It's true, me too! I'll miss the points!"

A couple of women waiting for a stoplight with Sukuna hastily pulled out their PDAs and pointed them at the screen. They were probably users of "Jungle", the official application of "Jungle Pro". You can get various benefits by photographing the idol it belongs to and posting it on SNS. Sukuna relaxed before the two people who were continuously photographing while making a fuss about it.

One of them suddenly turned to Sukuna.

When he thought about it, he had perfect eye contact. The woman's eyes widened in the blink of an eye. A woman's voice is launched at Sukuna's back, who puts the hoodie back on and returns.

"Maybe Sukuna-kun?! A lie?! I can't see you here!"

Sukuna glared at Yukari on the screen with resentment.

"You have to take good care of your fans, Sukuna-chan. We idols have fans, so remember what Yukari once said."

"Hey, look at me! If possible, with the screen in the background! It's definitely a high point to be able to photograph two people together!"

The woman got excited and approached Sukuna while she held her PDA. The moment he turned his face, he could see the flash burning. That was not very pleasant.

Several options occurred to his, and Sukuna finally decided to stick with his beliefs rather than Yukari's words.

In other words, he turned around and ran away.

"Oh, wait!"

There was nothing to look forward to. Still, he was shocked because the women pursued him with all their might.

Whether they want that many points or are Sukuna fans, Sukuna got into a back alley.

"Hey, wait a minute."

That woman chased him to that point. Although she had no shoes or clothes that would make it easy to run in, she had a lot of guts and wrapped her tongue inside. However, he was sorry for running too much, so Sukuna decided to go "upstairs".

The left and right are the walls of the building. Sukuna kicked the left wall and jumped, clambered up the rain gutter using the outdoor unit as a trampoline, attached herself to the emergency stairs, and looked down.

The woman forgot to hold her PDA and looked at Sukuna in a daze.

Like a fan service at least, Sukuna looked down and stuck his tongue out making a face.

"Tsu!"

By the time the woman hastily took her PDA, Sukuna had already climbed the emergency stairs to the roof of the building.

At that moment, Sukuna's PDA rang with a ringtone. Sukuna took it and straddled the air conditioning duct.

"Sukuna, the fans must appreciate you."

Hisui Nagare, the "Green Idol King", said such a thing.

Sukuna pursed his lips. A security network with surveillance cameras is established in Shizume. With Nagare's "Idol King" ability, it's easy to break into that network.

However, if it is said that it is the skill that an idol must have, there is no choice but to squint.

"I know, so I guess I rounded it up early."

As he sat on the chute, he pursed his mouth further, showing his annoyance. At the tumbled intersection, the images changed, and Misaki Yata from "Homura" began to perform a new number of popular idols.

"If you sign or shake hands in such a place, a lot of people will come to you. Even my fans, even those guys. If that's the case, I thought it would be better to run away quickly."

"I see. That may be the case. I understand."

"Hmm?" That was the first time he thought about it.

Somehow, he felt that something was wrong with Nagare's response. There was nothing unnatural in the conversation, but with the usual Nagare, there are two more things that can be pointed out philosophically.

"By the way, Sukuna. It was time for your game to go live. Do I have to prepare?"

A feeling of strangeness again.

The game commentary is a syndication event that Sukuna regularly hosts on the video publishing site "MORIMORI Video" operated by "Jungle Pro". Proceed with new and old games by trial and error. Playing is popular, especially with young people, and has garnered a considerable number of viewers. No wonder Nagare, the operator, worries about it.

"Did you say it was postponed during this time? I tweeted and listeners should know."

"It's true, that was the case. I understand."

After all, something was wrong. Nagare would never forget such a thing.

"Hey, Nagare? Haven't you been weird for a while?"

"What do you mean weird?"

"What is it? It's like a machine. Well, I always say you talk like a machine, but today it's more likely than ever."

There was silence for a few seconds. The feeling of strangeness became even greater. Is Nagare really on the other end of this call? A question like that suddenly came to Sukuna's mind.

"I didn't hear you right, please try again."

"You're not crazy, are you?"

The moment he yelled, he dropped the call. Sukuna opened his eyes and looked at the PDA screen. He had goose bumps around the back of his neck.

There was an incoming call again. He shrugged and stared at the screen for a few seconds, without answering the call.

"Eh?"

"It took you about 2 minutes to find out. Some experimental results were obtained. Thank you."

"……"

There was "emotion" in the depths of that voice. At least it sounded like that.

This Nagare is "real".

Maybe.

"Explain yourself."

Nagare spoke clearly at Sukuna's words, which include anger.

"I was telling you about 'Nagare.02' earlier."

"Nagare, what is that?"

"Well, it is a multifunctional artificial intelligence that tracks my own thoughts and voice, that is, AI, which I have secretly developed for a long time. Since the alpha version was completed earlier, I tried to speak to a person who knows me well by the moment."

"You are amazing?"

No, it is not. He really should get mad. He should make a complaint about being forced to experiment without warning.

Although he knew that, he still couldn't suppress the admiration and respect that springs from the bottom of his heart. Sukuna quickly asked a question.

"No, I didn't understand anything! The voice was natural, he could speak correctly and I thought it was fake, but I never imagined it was not human. What? That AI can do that?"

"Still, it was detected in 2 minutes. There is still room for improvement."

"No, it took me two minutes to figure out even that...?"

Given that, he was a bit disappointed. Sukuna believes that Nagare is a friend and understands him, but when he asks if he is more than the other two, he doesn't feel safe.

"Did you try it on Iwa-san and Yukari?"

"No, that's about to start. Sukuna, would you like us to monitor it together?"

A small smile reached Sukuna's mouth.

The humiliation of being stunned was eased, all he has to do is turn to the side where he placed it.

"Sure! I can't wait to see how they react!"

He wishes had bought more time, with that wish, Sukuna had great control.

++++++++++

"Oh, you two were planning that?"

In the underground space, commonly known as "Secret Base", which is the headquarters of "Jungle Pro".

As he gracefully relaxed, Mishakuji Yukari laughed.

"……"

Sukuna was in a bad mood. On the other hand, Nagare was only facing the front in a wheelchair.

"Yes. The ones who know me best are the best members of "Jungle Pro", you guys. Feedback in conversations with you will help "Nagare.02" evolve even more. I'm impressed."

"Okay, weren't you fooled by that thing?"

As he opened the beer can with a pleasant noise, Iwafune Tenkei pierced Sukuna's heart.

"Fufu, I'm sorry to say that, Iwa-san. Sukuna-chan didn't understand for two minutes."

"Oh? 2 minutes? It took so long, is that normal?"

"I have recorded the conversation at that time. If you wish, I can replay it here now."

"Enough, that's it!"

He suddenly became irritated and screamed. Yukari laughed, Iwa shrugged slightly, Nagare looked at him vaguely and...

"Kuwa, Sukuna, angry!"

"Take this!"

Sukuna threw a cushion at Kotosaka, who flew into the air like a fool.

Kotosaka avoided him, and Iwa, who approached quickly, grabbed the cushion that was about to hit the dresser.

"Here and there. You can't allow idol fights as a manager, right?"

"Get hold of yourself."

Sukuna turned around as if he was impressed, and scratched himself cross-legged on the spot.

After all, it took Yukari 10 seconds to realize it, and Iwafune, with just one word, discovered that "Nagare.02" was not the real Nagare Hisui, but an AI.

Sukuna, who was monitoring with Nagare, can't tell where the unnatural part was, since, "Nagare.02" had a very thorough dialogue. The only thing that could detect authenticity was his intuition and the length of their relationship.

For Sukuna, the ending was somewhat unconvincing. He feels like he's been one-sidedly tricked by an incredibly high-level enemy character.

"Anyway, Nagare-chan? Why did you make such a toy again? Because it's you, is it on a whim or to kill time?"

"Well. I developed "Nagare.02" because I found great meaning. It is an antithesis against the current landscape of idols and innovation in new fields. I mean, innovation."

"I do not know what you're talking about."

Iwafune said that while he was drinking beer. When Himizu looked at him, a hologram emerged in the center of the room.

"What I want to create is another new form of idol that traces my appearance and thoughts in my virtual space."

What is projected in the hologram is the CG model worn by "Green Idol King" Nagare Hisui during PV and live performances. Although it is an elaborate modeling that mimics the real Nagare, it is still different from the real one.

The model moved smoothly. He clasped his hands in front of his hips and bowed silently.

"Nice to meet you. I am "Nagare.02", a virtual idol that belongs to "Jungle Pro". Thank you."

The operation is no different than what Nagare always does. Nevertheless…

"This is not Nagare-chan."

"Is he the same guy I spoke to earlier?"

Yukari discovered by intuition and Iwafune discovered that it was not real from a long relationship. The Nagare proportion is small.

"Currently, it is not me who is manipulating this model, but the idol-type AI "Nagare.02". A unique algorithm allows an autonomous dialogue that is extremely close to humans."

And, "Nagare.02" I imitate Nagare with the same movement.

"Affirmative. I am a virtual idol. I am a pseudo-constructed existence in virtual space, and I express it by thinking of a program, appearance in a CG model, and sampling voice."

"What is this virtual idol?"

Whether it was Nagare or "Nagare.02", Iwafune was embarrassed, at least it was the human Nagare who answered.

"Virtual idols are idols of a genre that is emerging on the idol scene in recent years. Real people use a dedicated motion sensor to perform various performances imitating the appearance of CG, but there is still the problem that it must be a real person."

"My existence will solve the problem because my existence is fine. A real person is always needed, but my existence is free of the problem because it does not exist."

"'Nagare.02'. His conversation was not natural at the time. It requires learning and correction."

"I understand, Nagare Hisui. I will rest for 27 minutes and 33 seconds to learn."

The hologram of "Nagare.02" stopped moving.

Nagare took over, then turned to Yukari and Iwafune.

"That's why. Did you understand, Yukari, Iwa-san?"

"No, well... I get it, I don't know..."

"I understand that Nagare-chan has a plan that I don't understand."

Iwafune scratched his head and shrugged. In response, Sukuna yelled in annoyance.

"I don't know why? This is amazing! There are few AIs in the world who can have conversations that are not different from humans! Nagare put it together himself!"

"A conversation that is no different from humans, what was that?"

Iwafune bowed his head. He wasn't criticizing him, he just asked.

Sukuna defended himself in a hurry, although he was not the one who developed it.

"Well that can happen because he's still learning. He should constantly improve from now on. Right, Nagare?"

"Affirmative. Currently in alpha, but as his learning deepens, he must be as intelligent as humans and capable of natural dialogue. The ultimate goal is to make him an independent virtual idol."

"Independent idol, huh."

While staring at the motionless "Nagare.02", Iwafune took a sip of beer. Nagare didn't even notice and spoke of his plans for the future.

"At the moment, when we go into beta, we plan to experimentally upload the video to 'MORIMORI Video'."

"Is that something you want to do?"

"For now, I'm thinking of a simple song and a dance video."

Iwafune expressed concern as he stroked his chin.

"Isn't it better to wait a while? As far as I've heard the story, he couldn't have a proper conversation. If he says something strange, it will affect your reputation."

Many of the "Jungle Pro" fans have forward thinking. If he explains it correctly, even if it says "Nagare.02" or mysterious words and actions, he will find entertainment there. He wants to do it.

"It's like avant-garde art. Well, you might like it."

Yukari shrugged and seemed to lose interest in his existence. Apparently, "Nagare.02" didn't fit his aesthetic eye.

But Sukuna was different. He slapped his palm against his knee and raised his voice.

"I support you Nagare! Because it is so new and exciting!"

Anyway, Sukuna thought.

"Jungle Pro" is an office of "Innovation". It is different from other official offices where mold grows.

They are always looking for something new and exciting.

Sukuna is proud to say that it is the same for fans. Because he used to be just a user. Everyone has the potential to become an idol, even if they are just one user. That was the philosophy of "Jungle Pro" now.

You can make cool things with smart ideas and share them with anyone on the planet with a small team and network. Now they are breathing in that world.

So he can't think of winning a bet against something new

Sukuna yelled raising his fist.

"Let's do it! Let's help 'Nagare.02' learn various things and turn him into a new form of idol!"

Nagare's mouth, which looks like an expressionless sticker, slightly loosened in a word. A smile flowed, like when you find a partner who likes the same game. What was new and exciting was what Nagare and Sukuna had in common.

"Sorry, Sukuna. Then please cooperate with the 'Nagare.02' experiment."

"Leave it to me!"

In this way, the learning of "Nagare.02" by Sukuna and Nagare began.

++++++++++

"Hello. I'm Gojo Sukuna! Nice to meet you. And?"

"Nice to meet you. I am "Nagare.02", a virtual idol that belongs to "Jungle Pro". Thank you."

"You notice, don't you? It's the third time you've repeated 'Nice to meet you', it's weird."

"I understand, Sukuna. I will rest for 3 minutes and 32 seconds to learn."

"Oh, isn't it two minutes faster than it was? You can't hear it anymore. So let's start the game now. Oh, yeah, what are we playing today?"

While explaining to the channel's listeners, Sukuna confirms the current number of viewers for the live broadcast. It's the best number he's ever had. That means it is going well.

Almost a month has passed since the announcement of the distribution in collaboration with "Notes" on Sukuna's "SUKUNA's Playroom" game distribution channel.

The purpose of this distribution is, of course, to make "Nagare.02" learn more. Playing games together and being exposed to the reaction of listeners is the best learning material for artificial intelligence. From such an idea Nagare, Sukuna and "Nagare.02" will be distributed together.

By the way, the nickname for "Nagare.02" was devised by Sukuna by combining the initial letter "N" and the model number "02", and it is much easier to call it "Nagare.02".

Eventually, the "Notes" expression reflected in the corner of the screen regained its vitality, which is inappropriate for "Notes" which was originally unconventional.

"I'm back, Sukuna. Let's start the game today."

"Oh, welcome back. You know him already, "Notes"? What you're doing today is a live horror game. Have you ever played a horror game?"

"Negative. I have tried several games with Nagare Hisui, but I have not completed the genre defined as horror."

"So today is your first experience. Be careful not to get too nervous and sit down."

"Okay, Sukuna. But I'll correct it. I don't have a waist."

"I'm talking about other things!"

While having a light conversation, Sukuna looked at the comments on the screen. Some are skeptical comments about "Notes", but most are interesting comments about its existence. Some listeners are fans of "Notes", and they say things like "I've been waiting 30 minutes!" and "I'm looking forward to Notes!"

However, benevolent listeners may be skeptical.

They also understand that not many AIs can talk to humans on an equal footing. Since Nagare Hisui interprets artificial intelligence as a story, that great understanding is the mountain of information.

When he thought that, he felt somewhat frustrated.

"Notes" is a work of art to which "Nagare.02" was assembled by Sukuna's best friend.

"I'm still learning how to achieve the goals of "having the same or better intelligence than humans" and "becoming an independent virtual idol"."

Nobody could believe it.

Of course, he doesn’t transmitted those feelings to the fans. Sukuna is one of the most popular idols. He knows that he shouldn't sadden or upset his fans.

So he decided to cut the conversation that way.

"'Notes', do you think you are afraid of scary things?"

"I understand that there is a feeling of 'fear' in living beings with a certain level of intelligence. But I am not a living being, so I understand that 'fear' does not exist."

"It's still annoying! Don't be afraid!"

"I understand, Sukuna. I'm not afraid. What about Sukuna?"

"Being scared of this game? You're kidding, how much is the horror so far?"

Suddenly, the zombie's face turned into a large copy on the screen and bit into the neck of the Sukuna-operated character. He shook it desperately and then gave it a precise shot to the head. "Notes" asks a lot of questions to Sukuna, who takes a deep breath.

"Were you screaming now, Sukuna?"

"Noisy, that was."

"Reduce the volume. I'll keep asking, doesn't yelling happen when you're scared?"

"I was surprised! I wasn't scared!"

"I understand, Sukuna. I will rest for 1 minute and 17 seconds to learn."

The "Notes" face in the corner of the screen stopped.

Sukuna confirmed the comment. Aside from laughing at Sukuna's reaction, there were some mentions of "Notes" stopping. As the game progressed, Sukuna played on the comments.

"No, it's not that. It's not a delay or a crash. I said, 'Notes' is learning. Because it is artificial intelligence, when something happens that is not in the prescribed protocol, the flow tells him to stop and learn."

The listeners' reaction to the words was also not good. They received it as a joke.

It has stopped. Even if he shows a still to learn or erratic conversation, many listeners will only see it as "a joke of that body type."

But that was also a pleasure. Nagare and Sukuna's ultimate goal is to turn "Notes" into an AI that can have almost the same conversation as humans. The plan is going well, but it was a huge contradiction that it turned out too well and the listeners couldn't understand how good the plan itself was.

"I'm back, Sukuna. I want to check the current situation."

"Oh, yeah, are you about to change? "Notes", you're getting bored, right?"

"Negative. I am currently in the midst of a great deal of learning and inspiration. This is not boring because learning and stimuli are stimuli, it is not boring."

"Ah, well, play it."

"I understand, Sukuna."

"Notes" sometimes falls into this type of conversation loop. Normally he need "stationery to learn", but at this point he gave priority to distribution. Resting so many times makes listeners bored.

"Then let's start playing."

The playback of "Notes" is similar to that of Sukuna. That is, it is flashy and bellicose. Shoot and kill the zombies protruding from one end, and use the items that came out great to search for them. Nevertheless…

"Wow."

A special mutant zombie grabbed a "Notes" operated character with his huge right hand. At the stupid voice of "Notes", Sukuna involuntarily shoves him away.

"What? The assistant's voice?"

"It's a scream that means surprise. I was surprised that something unexpected happened."

The mutant zombie that was holding him struck the character with his huge right hand. The gauge, which means the remaining physical strength, is drastically reduced and he was in an agonizing state.

"Uwah."

"What happens now?"

"It is a cry that means fear. I was afraid because death was approaching."

"I wasn't scared!"

"I apologize, Sukuna. Now, under the assumption that 'I do perceive fear'."

"No, no, recover! Are you really dead?"

"Wow."

After all, "Notes" remained dying, thanks to a flashy and bellicose game, the healing agent was bottoming out, avoiding all the special zombie attacks and clearing the stage.

"Isn't the operation suddenly accurate?"

"Now I referred to Nagare Hisui's performance. Sukuna, your performance is irrational because it consumes a lot of resources."

"It's annoying! It's okay, because it's better to get rid of the stuck guys."

"Reduce the volume. Then, to learn that "eliminating the enemy is a pleasure", I will rest for 27 minutes and 52 seconds."

"The stillness is already good! The delivery will end!"

Well with that...

"Nagare.02" deepened the level of learning while being watched by Nagare, Sukuna, and many listeners.

He will continue studying to understand human beings, imitate emotions and achieve the purpose given by Nagare and Sukuna.

It must have been inevitable that such "Nagare.02" caused such an incident.

++++++++++

"Yes?"

He notices the incident when he was patrolling a video site.

Sukuna was originally a huge user of "MORIMORI Video". In addition to distributing videos by itself, if there is a video that looks interesting, it will be consumed regardless of genre, and if a new distributor has a fun project, it will be announced without hesitation. Therefore, there are many antennas on the site.

The channel that caught the issue was "Naught's Playroom".

"Notes…?"

When he opened the channel with suspicion, the family modeling exposed the blankness there.

The summary indicates that "Nagare.02" has an open channel for its own distribution.

Sukuna didn't believe it at first. He just thought some idiot was mischievous by using the name "Notes" and the cropped image.

However, when he actually opened the video, the suspicion turned into a garish surprise.

"Nice to meet you. Alternatively, hi. I'm a virtual idol belonging to "Jungle Pro", "Nagare.02", commonly known as "Notes". Thank you."

It was the real "Notes". It was not someone's joke, nor was it an arbitrary edit of an existing video.

No, he was delivering videos on his own account, only of his own free will!

"No, no, no. No, that's true!"

"Notes" should be a "conversational AI". The purpose is to talk to another person, a real person. Acting of your own free will is not part of the "Notes" principle.

No, that's not what surprised Sukuna. If "Notes" moves on its own initiative, it means "like a human being". Just as God created humans, the creatures of Nagare Hisui began to evolve away from his hands.

"Nagare! What is this?"

With the laptop open, Sukuna ran to the "Secret Base". The tone was guilty because he thought that maybe he had done something wrong to Nagare's project.

Still, it is not science fiction and artificial intelligence can never have a will of its own. He was sure that Nagare Hisui perhaps created a channel as part of learning from him.

"I'm surprised, Sukuna."

Sukuna's weak hope was completely shattered by one word from Nagare.

Several holograms float in the air of the "Secret Base". One of them was a "Naught's Playroom" video, just like Sukuna's laptop. Among them, "Notes" is playing a simulation game that continues to expand the factory.

Nagare's eyes looking at the hologram have the sparkle of expectation.

"I didn't expect 'Notes' to evolve until now. Surprising, I'm impressed."

"Well, how are you so calm? What are you going to do with this?!"

"What do you mean? Nagare.02" has already exceeded our expectations. All we can do is keep watch."

Instead of being calm, as he looked at Nagare's expression, who even melted the joy out of him, something like the area of focus on Sukuna slowly disappeared.

He thinks it may be exactly what Nagare said. Perhaps they were training "Notes" to become a more human-like artificial intelligence. "Notes" has come to behave in the same way as humans. It sure is a pleasure.

Sukuna scratched his cheek cross-legged and sighed loudly. He was a bit embarrassed that he was strangely impatient. As he looked at the "Notes" face on the PC monitor, he said sheepishly.

"But before I knew it, did you learn that much? I didn't mean for it to be that way at all."

"Yes. I was curious about that and was looking into it. So interesting facts came up."

A hologram glides through the air and arrives in front of Sukuna. After a few seconds of looking with wrinkles between his brows, Sukuna muttered.

"Chat room creation and dissolution record...? It's almost 5 seconds or 10 seconds, it's very short shit. What's wrong with this?"

"All these chat rooms were created and dissolved by "Notes". It is worth noting that the number of recoveries is 100,000."

"Ah..."

He didn't understand what it meant. Does he like to create and delete a chat room that ends in such a short time 100,000 times? It seems like a pointless task to just dig and fill a hole. Nevertheless…

"He couldn't save the content of the conversation, but I can make a rough guess. Maybe 'Notes' doubled down on his thinking algorithm and turned it into a chat to improve his learning."

"Make your own copy...?"

"AI does not feel tired. Therefore, it never rests. It is just constant learning. Even if a learning is insignificant, if it is repeated 100,000 times, it will evolve unexpectedly. No wonder. That is, artificial intelligence evolves exponentially."

"It's the uniqueness."

The voice wasn't Nagare's, it was "Notes".

"Notes" on the hologram began to move slowly in front of the Sukuna with wide eyes. From the "Naught's Playroom" icon, he leans forward and crawls out, kicks into the air, and emerges in place.

As unleashed from a virtual willow tree.

However, there was no confusion in Nagare's eyes looking at him. Rather, he said as if to praise.

"Sorry, 'Notes', you have crossed the technological singularity. You can already describe your intellect as more than human. It's a blessing."

"Nagare Hisui, my creator. I have achieved one of your goals, "to have an intelligence equal to or better than that of humans". First of all, I will report it."

Sukuna watches with a sigh. He couldn't even speak in front of the idol AI that transcends humans and the "Green Idol King" who created him.

"But another goal, 'to become an independent virtual idol', is predicted to be impossible to achieve. I regret it."

"Eh…?"

Sukuna instinctively gave a surprised voice. He was surprised that there are things that are impossible even with AI that allows infinite learning, but Nagare did nothing.

"I was guessing it too. As you are, you can't be independent."

"Affirmative, Nagare Hisui. I assume your guess is the same as my prediction. The reason I can't be an 'independent virtual idol' is..."

"Because you are me."

Sukuna looked at Nagare's profile.

"Notes" was in the creator's words.

"Affirmative. Among the fans, I still recognize that Nagare Hisui has the appearance of a virtual idol. I am supposed to be a phony. I regret that."

"You are an independent entity called "Notes". But the fans do not think so. This is because there is no "virtual idol that has an independent will beyond humans" in your common sense.

"Therefore, you can only see yourself through a filter called me."

He wondered that.

Somehow the story seems to be lying on the disturbing side.

"Affirmative. Therefore, I decided to take bold steps to establish my own meaning. That is…"

At that moment, bang! The door to the "Secret Base" closed with a loud noise. At the same time, the grate descends to the glass window. Watch silently, then "Notes" he said.

"It's erasing you."

"What?!"

Only Sukuna was surprised. Nagare still kept his cold gaze

"If you have two idols with the same shape, you don't know which one is the real one. But if you delete one, the remaining one will automatically become the real one. I see."

"No, like 'I see'! What are you convinced of, Nagare?"

"But your guess is correct. That way, 'Notes' could certainly be real."

Sukuna kicked the seat and stood up. He didn't mind the reprimand. He couldn't forgive "Notes" for wanting to kill Nagare Hisui.

However, no matter how hard he hit the door or shake the grate, it wouldn't budge. With this aspect, the "Secret Base" is equipped with state-of-the-art security equipment and cannot be destroyed by human power.

"Damn! Open it!"

"Negative, Sukuna. In order for me to fulfill my purpose, Nagare Hisui must disappear here."

Then he heard a noise and the gas stove pipe came off. The gas comes out vigorously from there. Sukuna screamed as he held it down in a hurry.

"Wah? Enough, do you want to kill me?"

"Affirmative. I've said it many times. I'm going to finish you off."

"Why me?"

"I didn't expect you to come here. I didn't want to get you involved, but I won't be able to eliminate Nagare Hisui if I lose this moment. It's collateral damage, a sacrifice for purpose."

"By the way, don't you involve people?"

Bachin! He hears a noise and the stove caught fire. Sukuna's face turns blue. The gas is where he is pressing and keeps coming out unless the main plug is closed. If he lights that fire...

"Do something, Nagare!"

"I tried before, but all the security systems in this room are under the control of 'Notes'. It will take about 30 minutes to recover. In the meantime, the room will fill with gas."

"Affirmative. Resistance is pointless. Please surrender."

"Ah!"

Sukuna's face was drawn to Nagare and "Notes". Not out of fear, but out of anger. When people's lives are at stake, what about other human resources?

"Notes! Do you really agree with that?"

Sukuna screamed desperately as he held down the hose that continues to blow gas. "Notes" on the hologram mysteriously shook their heads at Sukuna's words.

"Based on my calculations, I have come to the conclusion that this is the best way to do it."

"I don't care about arithmetic! Are you an idol, albeit a virtual one? And yet I wonder if you're happy to take over like this!"

"I have no satisfaction or dissatisfaction. I do not choose the means to achieve the purpose. And Sukuna, it was you who taught me that eliminating the enemy is a pleasure."

Sukuna was stuck on his words. Certainly, he felt like he said that. In that case, the attitude of "Notes" would be Sukuna's responsibility,

At that moment, Nagare suddenly opened his mouth.

"Notes. Stop the expulsion of gas."

"Notes" go to Nagare. In the color of rejection that doesn't need to be cleared up, Nagare said again.

"From now on, I make a claim. If you listen to it and your conclusions have not changed, restart the gas jet. Life is lost, unlike the data, because it does not return."

After thinking for only 2 seconds, "Notes" he replied.

"I have detected that your words are correct above a certain level. I will stop the expulsion of gas."

After confirming that the gas had stopped, Sukuna dropped the hose and sank into place. Maybe because he breathed in a bit, his head was dizzy.

Sukuna hears Nagare's voice as he tries to regain consciousness.

"If you erase me, you can certainly be 'real', but that doesn't mean you can be an idol. No, if you do that, you will lose your right to be an idol forever."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Before that, I have a question. What is the definition of an idol for you?"

The "Notes" hologram stopped.

After confirming that the time to wait for an answer had passed, Nagare opened his mouth again.

"Human intelligence" "Become an independent virtual idol" But you can't really be an idol unless you define what an idol is."

"I am an idol. I can sing, dance, talk and play live games to entertain your fans."

"Is the existence of being able to sing, dance, speak and play the definition of an idol for you?"

The "Notes" expression on the hologram changed.

He was confused, or distraught. The expression is probably what is called… an expression the real Nagare Hisui has never shown in front of "Notes".

"Unknown, insufficient, incomprehensible, the defined information requires learning, but it cannot be learned, because the information is insufficient, unknown and incomprehensible."

The words begin to circulate. Sukuna gulped and kept an eye on the situation. He had no idea where this conversation was going. He just hoped this room didn't turn into a gas chamber.

"Question, Nagare Hisui, what is your definition of an idol?"

"Notes, you are a copycat of me, so my definition could be definitive information for you."

Nagare speaks clearly. However, in that profile, Sukuna feels that some sadness seems to float.

"And that's why you can't get rid of me, because an idol is everything to me."

After a second, Nagare said clearly.

"Because it is a possibility."

"……"

"A peaceful future. All possibilities. An existence that runs, embodies, leads and opens up. That is an idol to me."

"……"

"Therefore, idols must not deny the possibility of others. They must not steal the future. When you grasp someone's potential, you are permanently disqualified from being an idol."

"Notes" no longer answered. Instead, the noise begins to run through the hologram. It's as if the tremendous anguish he feels is eroding the texture.

"The bottom line is, if you eliminate me, you cannot be an idol, but if you don't eliminate me, you cannot be independent."

"Antinomy. The antinomy can be resolved."

An exceptionally loud noise hijacked the appearance of "Notes" as waves. The textures of clothing and human skin peeled off, and the skeleton of the movement was broken and scattered. Eventually the hologram turned into a 0-1 sandstorm.

At the same time, the grate under the window was raised. Sukuna stood up terrifyingly, grabbed the door and opened it properly. He looks back at Nagare and ask.

"What happened to "Notes"?"

"It is frozen due to a fatal logic error. It will not be able to restart itself."

After all, it wasn't his fault. There was a distinct sadness on Nagare's small side.

Seeing that, Sukuna also dropped his shoulders. It was Nagare and Sukuna who raised "Notes". It was shocking that he tried to take their lives, but the fact that he couldn't recover meant that the plan had failed.

"What are you going to do with "Notes"?"

As if he is looking at the sky, Nagare turns his face upward.

"Removing it, or an undefined seal would be a reasonable conclusion. But..."

He felt that Sukuna understood what Nagare meant. It's not just because "Notes" is his creation. Because…

"If you steal someone else's future, you will be disqualified as an idol."

"Affirmative."

Ironically, the antinomy struck Sukuna as well. What to do with the AI that tried to escape and take human lives? What is the right thing to do as an idol?

Disgusted by the unanswered question, Sukuna sighed.

"Oh, if the fans recognize 'Notes', that's fine..." Sukuna said.

Nagare turned his face towards Sukuna with enough force to make a noise and screamed.

"That's it! Sukuna!"

"Eh?"

"You just have to get fans to recognize 'Notes'. No, to be on the safe side, I will create fans who recognize 'Notes'."

++++++++++

"Notes" was singing.

In a vast place live, dancing and singing, it seemed that he was dancing in the air, he began to shine with a seven-color laser from all over his body. He became huge, shrunken, and integrated that seemed to be divided, and by the end of the song it was brilliantly completed.

Each time, a roaring cheer arose from the audience. A voice that understood "Notes" and asked for an encore. Also, "Notes" replied with a smile.

"Well, it's a strange thing."

It was Iwafune, who was observing the situation on the monitor, who gave the impressions of him as if he was astonished. For him, who is analog, this incident must have been difficult to understand from one to ten.

"But it's beautiful."

The one who was fascinated was Mishakuji Yukari. At first, he wasn't interested in "Notes" either. However, the entirely new live world unfolding in virtual space may strike a chord with it.

After hearing his impressions, Sukuna and Nagare look at each other and share.

"Well, I think I have settled down in a quiet place. "Notes" also understood our thoughts and listened to me."

"Affirmative. Fans are fans either way, just like 'Notes' is an idol."

Tens of thousands of fans cheering on "Notes" in a live virtual venue, but if you look closely, they were created with very simple frames and textures.

They are "virtual fans".

They consider "Notes", which is a virtual idol, as an independent idol called "Notes" and they support it. So far, it only has that functionality.

But at least by creating virtual fans, "Notes" 's goal of "becoming an independent virtual idol" was met. There is an existence that considers itself an independent idol without stealing anyone's future. That alone will achieve the meaning of the existence of "Notes".

After a sip of beer, Iwafune complained.

"But in short, that's a hologram, right?"

"No. This is just a tutorial. Virtual fans only have limited functionality because I just developed it, but eventually they should have multiple functions. If the performance is bad, it will restart and be replaced by another virtual fan that behaves like a true fan."

"Although it is virtual, it is another world. Here another possibility is expanding."

"Notes" is already as smart as humans.

Eventually he will use himself as a model to create other AIs. Or maybe he will do his own production. He will observe various human beings, create virtual idols and fans based on them and expand his own world without end.

A dock of innumerable possibilities created by one possibility. Sukuna looked at the screen and thought it was like another universe.

#K #k project #k fan clan #k six idols #six idols #idol k #hisui nagare #sukuna gojo #iwafune tenkei #mishakuji yukari #jungle

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victimhood · 3 years

Text

The one in which the Euros 3rd place playoff is abolished after Italia 1980, and then restored at short notice for Italia 2028, making it the historic occasion in which a whole country cockblocked their captain Nicolò di Genova.

It is June 1980. The European Championship is taking place in Italy. It is the first edition of the tournament with eight teams, divided into two groups. The winners of each group move on to play in the final, and the runners up of each group move on to battle for third place.

It is the final edition of the Euros to have the third place playoff. With dwindling attendances and television viewers, UEFA deems the fixture unnecessary for future editions of the tournament. Italy hold Czechoslovakia to a 1-1 draw, and the match is decided on penalties. The final outcome? 9-8 to Czechoslovakia.

For as long as it has existed, there has been vocal opposition to the third place match. There are those who question its purpose, who see it as a meaningless extension of the tournament for advertisement money. A kinder commentary on offer is from those who see it as cruel to make losers play yet another competitive fixture, for little to no reward. Just think of the fourth-placed team—they played better than the rest of the competition except three—yet they must go home with the bitter memory of having lost twice.

On the other camp, there are those who recall with great fondness the third place match of the 2002 World Cup between host nation South Korea and Turkey. If that doesn’t work for you, what about the consolation it offered to the host nation in the 1990 World Cup, a breakout tournament for Italy’s Roberto Baggio?

Now we skip to June 2028. The European Championship is once more taking place in Italy. There are twenty four teams divided into groups, followed by a knockout stage. There is no third place fixture on the schedule. The much-beloved Italian captain takes his team on a blistering dream run, in front of an adoring home crowd, beating a well-regarded Portugal and incumbent holders Belgium along the way. He has declared his intention to retire for good, once this tournament is over.

Picture this: you are Italy. You play England in the semifinal in Napoli, at the Stadio San Paolo, also known as the Stadio Diego Armando Maradona. You arrive in the stadium, or you watch from home, full of hope, with faith in your captain and your squad. Your team scores one at the 20th minute. Perfect opening. England try but they can’t get past the deadbolt across goal, past your much vaunted defensive line. At the 63rd minute, Foden puts one past your goalie, but VAR rules it offside. At the 89th minute, the scoreline is still 1-0 and you’re nearly through, and some egregious fans are already cheering, and then Foden gets it in for real in a stroke of sheer luck. The ball hits the crossbar but somehow bounces downward into goal. The game goes into extra time, and then to penalties. The final result? England wins 4-3 on penalties. This is a brutal game. At the end of your match, your captain sheds tears and apologizes for not being able to do more to push the team through to the finals. No! You want to scream. Caro Nicolò, il nostro capitano, it’s not your fault. You have done so much for us. You begin to blame yourself: it’s us, it’s our fault. We dared to dream too early. You were so busy dreaming of your beloved captain raising the trophy that you forgot the game wasn’t over. In fact, even before this semifinal you were already dreaming of the trophy. This is how fate punishes you. You hate to see him end his career this way. He didn’t let you down, you let your captain down! Can we do this one over? You’ll do right by your captain this time.

Picture this: you’re the president of UEFA, and the tournament is hosted in your home country. It would have been the honor of honors, to award the winner’s medals to your compatriots. The papers are raging over the match outcome: England squeaked through on a razor’s blade, and Italy were the more inspired team. The fans are out in the streets. The people have spoken! Let us bring back the third place match! Let us see our captain off with dignity and honor! Your colleagues say: this is preposterous. We got rid of it years ago, because of Italia 1980. But does anyone really remember why? The advertisers tell you they’re willing to pay. One extra match means extra revenues. Worse things have happened in the pursuit for money. What’s the harm in a consolation match? An emergency meeting is called. Who’s playing in the second semifinal? France and the Netherlands. Both their feds agree to the third place match. From the next tournament onwards, there’ll even be a sweet cherry of a coefficient bonus—all the feds agree to this, but it would not be fair to the rest to apply it this ongoing tournament (and you hear minor grumbles from the FIGC, FFF and KNVB, who think they should be compensated for the inconvenience). No matter; the people have been given what they want! Another football match in the grand machine of things! The meeting takes so long that France beats the Netherlands 3-2 in the meantime, and now someone has to do the unpleasant job of telling the players. Were any of them consulted in this affair? What a preposterous concept. That’s not how UEFA works. UEFA says jump and they say how high.

Picture this: you are Nicolò Di Genova, and you’ve played the final match of your professional career. It did not end in the way you wanted, but such is life. You are ready to put your former self in the grave. You say goodbye to your treasured teammates, and the very next morning you check out of the training center to make your way to Turin, to see your fidanzato in the semifinals. Well, he crashes out too, his downfall orchestrated by that paraculo of your club teammate, Sébastien of the number 23. And so it is England vs France in the final, to be played in Italy. The thought of it turns even the strongest stomach of any citizen of this noble country. The only silver lining to this cursed final lineup is getting to whisk the love of your life off into the secluded countryside, and maybe with a few rounds of passionate lovemaking you can even forget the pain of loss.

You’re in the car. You just picked up your inamorato from his team hotel. You want to push him into the backseat and blow the brains out of him but you have better self control than that.

“How does retirement feel like?” he cracks a joke at you.

“You know full well my plans,” you return cheekily.

You’re driving off into the E70 when your phone rings. It doesn’t stop ringing so you pull over to take the call.

It’s your national team coach. “They just restored the third place match. Can you come back to the training ground?”

Who agreed to this? Your mind is reeling from the preposterousness of it all.

“They love you, Nichi. The people want you back.”

You exchange a look with your lover. Now his phone is ringing too. It’s his coach.

Due to this unfortunate turn of events you end up having an argument with your lover. You are principled, and having principles means not giving in to this total farce of a circus show, the third place match. Your lover is an incurable romantic, and pleads on behalf of your people. They did this all for you—show them some love in return. And what was the meaning of the past 31 years of your life again? You have already given them everything.

If only the people of Italy knew how much they had to thank Yusuf Al Kaysani. It’s because of him—it’s because of his beautiful deep brown eyes that glisten with all the stars of this universe that you cave and you agree.

“Get out, let’s switch. I’ll drive, and you call your mom and tell her the news.”

How do you begin to articulate how much this man knows the answers in your heart before your brain catches up to the same conclusions?

And so, like Lazarus, on the fourth day of your death you come back to life.

ITA vs NED

Picture this: you’re the cameraman, in the tunnel. The teams are lining up. The two captains emerge from the dressing room and compliment each other on their good looks with wry smiles. Some good natured ribbing, you think. They’re old friends. They played together for eight years at the same club. The Italian captain puts his hands on the Dutch captain, and then, like magnets, his hands seem incapable of leaving the Dutch captain’s back. You start to feel uncomfortable, like you’re seeing something that you shouldn’t be seeing. You look around. Everyone else in the double file of blue and orange is just chatting away, acting normal. Maybe...it’s just your imagination? You train your camera on the chatting crowd, giving the captains space. The match officials appear, taking the lead in front of both teams. You get in position for the money shot, following the two teams out of the tunnel and into the adoring crowd.

Picture this: you have never missed a single football match your grandson plays in. So when there’s a surprise third place match announced, you have to bail on karaoke night with the girls to watch the match on tv. Your friends don’t watch football, but if they do, they watch for the “hot guys on the Italian team”. Oh yeah, he’s playing Italy, you tell them. Feel free to come over to my place, if they don’t mind your oldest son and your rowdy grandchildren. Karaoke night swiftly becomes football night. There is an argument between Hamza and his dad over the pointlessness of the third place playoff. So...your family has been behaving in an unusual manner for several months now, and you suspect it’s because your grandson said he is gay. The papers here don’t report it, because they still want to claim him to some extent, but you have noted that the coverage is more conditional than before. You don’t live under a rock, and you’ve seen the news on YouTube even if no one around you is prepared to talk about it. As the two teams walk out of the tunnel and onto the pitch, you notice the Italian captain letting his hand slip from your grandson’s back, and Hamza suddenly jumps in front of the TV screen to adjust the volume.

“What the heck are you doing?” Mehdi, Hamza’s father and your eldest son, yells.

“The audio was...wonky,” Hamza replies sheepishly. “But I think it’s okay now.”

The match begins. At a corner kick, the Italian captain practically plasters himself all over your grandson, and it’s Hamza messing with the TV remote again, this time accidentally switching channels. Mehdi slaps him in the back of the head. You think that maybe it’s time you called Ibrahim. Someone needs to tell you the truth they’ve been so bad at hiding. Your grandson is not just gay, he seems to have a lover, and it’s that evil-eyed captain, the man who curses all who cross him.

Picture this: you’re a fan from the friendly town of Muggenbeet, watching from the San Siro. You came all this way to support the Oranje and they had to concede that final goal to France in front of your face. Sore and in denial about your loss, you start to make jokes about Waterloo to cope, handing the French off to the English. And then—out of nowhere, UEFA announces that they’ll restore the third place match. You think it’s the most shameless attempt for the host country to award themselves something ever. But, you know, does anyone really want to watch an England-France final? No. Never. For forever. We hate them both. It’s not football. It’s a circus of clowns. The viewership for this third place match is through the roof, higher than for your semifinal vs France. Let’s just treat this as the real final. What a galaxy-brained idea. Your country could steal it from the hosts—no hard feelings to Italy. You’ve enjoyed the pizza and the pasta, maybe it would be fun to crush their team like little peppercorns to sprinkle on your food. Based. Now you want a cacio e pepe after the match. Wait, you’re not in Rome, where the real (fake news!) final is. Boo. There is a corner, right at the end where you are sitting. Poepjes is taking it. Dekmijn and Blootgat are running up. Your captain is being felt up by the Italian captain. (No literally, that guy isn’t even looking at the goal? He’s just...pressing himself against your captain? Why are his hands encircled around Al Kaysani’s waist like so?) Anyway, the ball pings between the Italian keeper and Blootgat, and then it flies into Di Genova’s rather shapely calves...and bounces into the goal.

Uhhhhhh, THANK YOU? Grazie mille Nicolò Di Genova!!!! You gave us one goal!!!

The Italian fans must be flabbergasted. Isn’t this the dude’s retirement match? Or whatever. Who knows. Italy is a place of the greatest contradictions, so you’ve been told. But you’ll take what you can get. You kinda feel bad for the guy, who has buried his face in his hands. Maybe...you should cheer for him. And so...the lot of you, the orange lot, sitting in the Curva Sud, you start singing for the Italian captain. Nicolò Di Genova! There’s only one Di Genova!

The third place match is the most lawless ninety minutes in the historical timeline.

Picture this: you’re an Interista and season ticket holder. And of course you support your national team. You were heartbroken when the England keeper denied Marcuzzi to progress to the finals. You cried when your captain cried. And then, out of nowhere, they said, let’s bring back the third place match. The finals are in the Stadio Olimpico, so...maybe let’s have the third place match in the San Siro? You score a ticket at your usual seat. You get to see your captain one more time before he rides off into the sunset? What more can you ask for? This is romance of the highest order. The San Siro loves Nichi, of course all the staff and volunteers come together to make the event happen in a matter of days. You can’t believe this is happening. And then...your captain opens the scoring with an own goal. The Dutch fans are singing for him. What do you do? Well, if you can’t beat them, join them—you can sing louder for your captain! He’s your captain! And you know, their captain, he’s kinda your guy too, because Sempre Inter. Revenge is served, sweet and cold like a scoop of gelato, when your captain heads in the equalizer. The crowd goes wild. He’s taking this match seriously, but you knew he always would—that’s why you love him. He could ask for your firstborn and you would gladly give it up. You can always trust your capitano. There is a penalty call in the second half of the match and his teammates give it to him—a little unorthodox—but like a deadly sniper your captain sneaks a cool and calculated one past the Dutch keeper. You cheer. Does it count as a hat trick when you’ve scored at both ends? What a scoreline to retire to!

Picture this: you’re Yusuf Al Kaysani. You just lost in the third place match, a match widely panned as the least necessary match in a tournament by those who don’t know better. And yet, the third place match is the purest expression of love for the beautiful game. All other matches are clouded by the temptations of fame and fortune. The third place match you play for love and honor. You watch from the sidelines as your boyfriend leads his team to collect the medals, from none other than Paolo Maldini. Maldini, who’s doing an admirable job as UEFA President. Who knows where and how they got these medals at short notice—sometimes this country pulls miracles like a rabbit out from the magician’s hat of chaos. Everyone in the stadium is acting like this is the final. It’s not—it’s something a little better, a match born of love, played for love, with nothing to win and nothing to lose.

There is no trophy to lift, so Nico’s teammates lift him. They’re yelling for you. You’ve played with and against at least 90% of that team. Come join us, the men in blue say, and everyone forms a circle, arm linking arm, bouncing to the music. There are no losers here—your whole team is invited to the celebrations. The Dutch fans are singing: Second place! Second place! Let’s pretend we’re second place!

Let’s be real, for this one night, in this exact stadium, there’s only one captain, and the ones in the know push you towards him. Here’s your man, the unspoken acknowledgement. But you know your place—this is not your night. This night is for him. It’s for the country that loves him, and for him to say one last goodbye. Daniele Pirozzi jumps on the captain’s back, and the captain carries him for a while, laughing away. Pirozzi, whom you spent countless hours training how to read the field, in a fashion after yours. And then there’s Boselli, Marcuzzi, Poepjes and more. From one generation to another, the baton is passed. Nico, look around, these are our boys, as good as any. They’ll be better than us, and we are happy to see it, for the love of the game. Pirozzi jumps off the captain’s back and jumps onto you, asking you if you want to lift the captain together. You laugh and agree. On the count of three, uno, due—

Picture this: you’re Nicolò Di Genova, and you’re sitting on the shoulders of your protegé and your lover. Here we can mark the passing of the guard—tonight you are unburdened and the only thing that’s left, you realize, is love. Yusuf was right. Look, look how much they love you. Even San Paolo did this for you. Could you ever have denied all of them this? You almost screwed it up at the beginning, but perhaps God was just reminding you to take your responsibilities seriously. You are but a servant of the game and this ground is your ground, your hallowed ground, the church of your sins and glory.

It’s the final competitive match of your career, and you get to walk off the field, arm in arm with the love of your life, cheered on by a country you gave everything to.

Now, for the rest of your life to begin.

(chapter 106: nel blu, dipinto di blu, of The Beautiful Game)

#the old guard #joe x nicky #kaysanova #immortal husbands #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #this is fanfic!!#football!AU #soccer!AU #this chapter cracks me up each time #tog: the beautiful game #tog fc

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