#born and raised here but i cant speak the language well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drvirgus · 10 months

Text

The Idol who cant Smile

Minji X fem! Reader

Description: You are the oldest Member of New Jeans, but Fans Never saw you Smile once. Why don't you Smile? Who's the Person that can bring back a smile to your Face?

Chapter 16:

The spotlights were bright as I stood on the stage. In front of me were the cameras and the audience, and I could feel the excitement in the air. The interviewer, a friendly lady with a smile on her face, began the conversation.

"Hello and welcome! We have a very special guest with us today - Y/n from Newjeans! It's great to have you here," the interviewer announced with a smile, turning to face me. The interview was conducted in English, as not everyone knew that I spoke German.

I smiled and bowed politely. "Hello! Thank you, I'm very happy to be here," I replied in English. The interviewer made an inviting gesture, and we sat down on the comfortable red chairs.

"Let's dive right in. You are widely known as a K-Pop star. How did you get into music, and how did you become an idol?" asked the blonde lady, glancing at her clipboard with a smile on her lips.

My thoughts went back to my childhood in Seoul, the long hours at the piano, and the singing lessons, which I often took at the music store at the end of the street. My father had always forbidden me from making music. I began to tell the story of how I was discovered in my hometown and how my passion for music developed.

"That sounds exciting! However, you were born and raised in Korea. How is it for you to be in Germany for the first time? Can you speak any German yet?" asked the blonde lady, laughing a bit. She placed her hand briefly on my knee before returning it to her clipboard.

I felt the excitement as I talked about my mother, who was German. "This is actually my first time in Germany, and it's an exciting experience. It almost feels like a sort of homecoming... and yes, I can speak German," I replied with a smile on my face. The interviewer looked at me, amused.

"Well, then show us your German skills," she said, clearly amused. She switched to the German language, looking at the camera and mentioning that subtitles would be provided. She then turned back to me and asked the next question in German.

"Impressive! Are there artists or music genres that particularly inspire you?" she asked, genuinely interested. Her legs were crossed as she looked at me with a smile. I smiled as well.

"To be honest, there are quite a few. Of course, my seniors from Hybe, but also Mamamoo and Itzy. But when it comes to Western music, it's definitely Adele and Taylor Swift. I lean more towards the melodramatic side of music," I said with a light laugh. I covered my mouth to stifle my laughter. Somehow... I didn't feel very comfortable in this interview.

"Those are really great singers. So, you're more into female empowerment, huh?" the blonde woman asked. Her blue eyes stared directly into mine, making me a bit nervous. Her foot lightly touched my leg, and she didn't seem to move it. It made me quite uneasy.

"You have a huge fan base that supports you. How do you view your connection with your fans?" she asked. I didn't like her tone. Why did it seem like she was trying to flirt?

A smile spread across my face as I talked about my fans. "My fans mean everything to me," I replied, briefly looking at the camera and making a finger heart. This made the woman laugh, and shortly afterward, I felt her hand on my knee again. Surprised, I looked at my manager. He seemed to have noticed it too and appeared to be talking to the show's director.

I cleared my throat. "I always try to make time for my fans, whether I'm on my way somewhere, during concerts, TikTok reels, or just going live. I dedicate all my time to my fans," I added with a smile. The blonde woman hummed with interest and glanced at her clipboard.

"Are there any new projects or surprises in the near future that your fans can look forward to?" the older woman asked, raising her eyebrows. "You can tell me, right?" she said, trying to be funny. Her hand was back on my knee. This time, I turned my knee in the other direction, but I still had a smile on my face.

"Oh, yes, there are some exciting projects in the works... unfortunately, I can't reveal them right now. I can only say that it's going to be really great, and even the Germans, or rather, the European Bunnies, can look forward to it," I replied, smiling into the camera, my eyes on the blonde woman.

"Now, let's get to the last and most important question," she said excitingly. She set her clipboard aside and folded her hands together. She licked her lips once and a broader smile appeared on her face. "There have been some rumors in the Korean and international web. We want this question finally answered. Are you a member of the LGBTQ community?" the blonde woman asked.

I still had the same smile on my face. My manager seemed to be furious, but the blonde woman looked at me expectantly. "Well, I certainly don't want to offend anyone, so I'll keep my sexuality private," I replied with a smile. "If my fans perceive me as straight, bisexual, or even lesbian, it doesn't matter. However they see me, I love all my fans equally," I added with a chuckle.

The blonde woman hesitated visibly. She had noticed how I avoided the question. "But, even though it might cause me problems now, I am an advocate for LGBTQ rights," I said as I stood up from the chair. A smile on my face as I politely bowed.

The interviewer ended the conversation, and I bowed once again. As I left the stage, I could feel the anger within me. My manager was at my side as he led me to the car. Of course, there were some fans gathered outside the building. The interview was live, and most likely, all of them had seen it. I smiled and waved to them.

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

In an extraordinary event for K-Pop enthusiasts in Germany, Y/n, a beloved member of the internationally acclaimed group Newjeans, recently graced the stage for an exclusive solo interview. The interview took place in Germany, marking her first visit to the country, and it has left fans excited and eager for more.

As Y/n took the stage, the gleaming spotlight emphasized the significance of this unique moment. Surrounded by cameras, a captivated live audience, and a host of curious fans from around the world, her palpable excitement was evident. The friendly interviewer, well-known for her charm and charisma, extended a warm welcome to the K-Pop sensation.

For the sake of international viewers, the interview was conducted in English. Y/n's polite response showcased her trilingual skills

The cozy setting of the interview allowed both Y/n and the interviewer to get comfortable on plush red armchairs. The dialogue began with a question about Y/n's journey to becoming a K-Pop idol, prompting her to reminisce about her childhood in Seoul. Y/n spoke passionately about her love for music, citing her days playing the piano and singing. She was first discovered in her hometown, leading to her transformation into a star.

The interview, smoothly transitioning between German and English, continued with Y/n's admiration for various artists and music styles. She expressed her love for both her senior idols at Hybe and internationally renowned artists, citing Adele and Taylor Swift among her inspirations.

During the course of the interview, some viewers couldn't help but notice a subtle change in tone from the interviewer. Her line of questioning seemed to take a flirtatious turn, raising eyebrows among fans. Y/n, ever the professional, maintained her composure.

Y/n's response to a bold question regarding her sexual orientation, a topic often discussed in Korean and international forums, showcased her grace. While she chose to keep her sexual orientation private, she voiced her support for LGBTQ rights, drawing respect and admiration from her fans.

As the interview concluded, Y/n's graceful exit was met with a round of applause. She left the stage with grace, but a storm brewed among her fans. Some comments reflected the audience's indignation at the interview's flirtatious undertone, while others eagerly awaited her return to the K-Pop scene in Korea.

One thing is certain: Y/n's journey, both personally and professionally, has taken an intriguing turn. The exclusive interview in Germany opened a new chapter for Y/n and the global community of Newjeans enthusiasts. Their continued support and excitement is a testament to the impact of K-Pop in the world, and fans eagerly anticipate what Y/n's future holds as she returns to Korea.

Y/n may have just made her first visit to Germany, but the global reach of her artistry knows no bounds. Her homecoming to Korea is eagerly awaited, with a trail of enthusiasm following her every step.

The interviewer seemed more interested in gossip than in Y/n's music. Y/n's response showed the world their commitment to privacy and respect for everyone.

We stand by Y/n because they always stand by us. No matter what, we're here to support our amazing idol. 💖 #YnFandomLove

The interviewer's flirty behavior was so cringy. Y/n is a role model for handling it with class. 🌟 #YnIsAmazing

The interviewer's behavior was so unprofessional. Y/n deserves respect and privacy, and that line of questioning crossed it. 😡 #NotCool

Minji, give the interviewer a 'sound check,' will ya?

Interviewer: 'Are you part of the LGBTQ community?' Y/n: 'I'm part of the 'Love My Fans' community!' 😂

I can just imagine Newjeans members watching this interview and preparing their 'Operation Protect Y/n' strategy

Did anyone else notice the interviewer trying to slide into Y/n's DMs during the interview? 🙈

Can we just appreciate Y/n's patience? That interviewer was one 'awkward' question away from a new hairstyle

When the interviewer touched Y/n's knee, I think I saw the entire Newjeans fandom collectively gasp. Protect our queen!

That interviewer was clearly shipping Y/n with herself! But we all know Y/n x Minji is the real ship sailing!

Haerin's probably backstage plotting how to steal Y/n away from that interviewer. Newjeans better protect their girl

When Haerin finds out about that interview, the interviewer better watch out. Haerin doesn't play around!

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

Tiredly, I opened my eyes. Almost immediately, I glanced at the clock on the wall of the hotel room. My short nap had done me good, but I could have used a little more sleep. The knocking that had awakened me sounded again. Grumbling, I got up from the bed and asked in German, "Who's there?" There was no answer, and my forehead creased in confusion.

Slowly, I made my way to the door and opened it. My eyes widened as I saw Minji standing in front of my room. A gasp escaped me, and I swung the door wide open, wrapping my arms around her neck. Minji laughed at my reaction, her arms circling my waist as she gently guided me back into the room.

I pulled away from her, watching as she closed my door. A smile played on my lips. "I hope I'm not interrupting," Minji said, raising an eyebrow. I furrowed my brow, slightly puzzled.

She settled on the edge of the bed, making me smile. "Where is she? Hiding under the bed or in the closet?" Minji inquired, amusement dancing in her eyes.

My eyes narrowed in confusion, and I asked, "What?" Finally, I understood her meaning.

I smirked and shook my head. My hands rested on her shoulders as I moved to sit in her lap. "Why do you ask? Is someone feeling insecure?" I said, laughing lightly. I met her eyes, and even Minji couldn't help but join in the laughter. Her hands rested on my hips.

"I don't know. Is there any reason for me to be?" She asked, observing my entire face for a reaction. I laughed and shook my head. My hands found their way to her jaw, and I placed a soft kiss on her lips. Minji smiled into the kiss.

I pulled away and leaned my forehead against hers, taking a deep breath. I missed having her scent around me, her warmth, just everything about her, even if it had only been a few days.

"How was it with your aunt and cousin?" Minji asked, clearly interested. I smiled and slowly stood up. I gathered my short hair into a small ponytail, as it only reached my neck. "It was great. I learned a lot about my mom and my cousin is even cooler than I expected. We're planning to go to Phantasialand tomorrow," I replied, smiling. Minji nodded in understanding.

I couldn't help but smile sweetly as I took her hand. "Would you like to come with us?" I asked, smiling. Minji grinned, pretending to think it over. This made me impatient, so I sighed and tugged at her hand. Minji laughed as she looked at me. "Alright, I'll come," she said, and I eagerly jumped up.

"Finally, we'll have our theme park date we talked about," I said, my smile even wider. Minji smiled back at me as she pulled me down onto the bed. I gasped in surprise as I landed on top of her, a grin on her face as she looked up at me. I reached over her to grab my phone, which I had placed on the bed earlier.

Minji looked up at my hands as I simply unlocked my phone. She immediately returned her gaze to me. An amused exhale escaped her as I soon felt her lips on my jaw. I couldn't help but smile, but I continued to focus on the message I was trying to type.

Me (19:09): Minji will be joining. Is that okay?

I sighed as the lips of my girlfriend brushed against my neck. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of her touch. Her hands slid slowly under my top but rested on my skin. For Minji, it wasn't about anything sexual; she just wanted skin-to-skin contact. I sighed once more, but my eyes snapped open as I immediately felt my phone vibrate.

Lena (19:11): Oh my effing god!!!! Yes, absolutely! Yes!!! I might bring my best friend along, okay? An even number is better after all, but only if it's okay?

Lena (19:11): Wait, she's in Germany? Has the Y/n Protection Squad really come?

Me (19:11): Ha ha. I don't need a Protection Squad. Quite the opposite. My members need the protection.

Me (19:12): But of course. Bring your best friend along. See you tomorrow.

I felt Minji take my phone from my hand and place it next to us on the bed. Surprised, I looked at the younger woman beneath me. She just smiled. "Stop staring at your phone. I'm here," Minji said as her lips pressed forward. I couldn't help but laugh a little as our lips met briefly.

"Stop being so sweet."

#newjeans #haerin #newjeans hanni #danielle #newjeans minji #newjeans hyein #minji x reader #newjeans x reader #hanni pham

48 notes · View notes

harleybeaumont · 2 years

Text

I Met You Just In Time

Book - TRR AU

Pairings- I bet you’ll figure it out pretty quickly

A/N - This is my submission for the choices prompts #3. Idk what it is with these prompts sending me straight to Lucretia, but here we are again! Prompt is in bold.

Warnings- NSFW- language, murder, tiny bit of lemons

Word Count - 1,800

I Met You Just In Time

“This isn’t working for me anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“This was the agreement. This has always been the agreement. Or have you forgotten?”

“I’ve forgotten nothing. But everything is different now.”

“Nothing is different, you pathetic little shit!” Lucretia stormed away from the man with her hands thrown up in frustration. She raced across the large Nevrakis family vault and grabbed a random book from the shelf, hurling it toward his face. “Abandoning everything we’ve been working toward since the day you were born?! For what? A damn woman?! I can’t believe what I’m hearing!”

The man scrubbed his hands down his face in frustration. This decision hadn’t come easy. In fact, it nearly tore him apart.

The truth was, he fell for Riley Brooks.. Hard. Many nights he lay awake cursing the fact that she just had to be so wonderful. So endearing. Such a light in his dark life.

And many nights he lay awake cursing himself. What a terrible human being he was. He had done horrible things in his past - murdered, even. He didn’t deserve her. But that didn’t stop him from making love to her the first night she gave him an inkling of her desire for him.

In fact, he jumped at the chance.

After a particularly rough day -the day of the barn raising - Riley had come to his bedroom in tears over how affectionate Liam had been with Madeleine. He attempted to speak soothing words to Riley to let her know that it was just Liam behaving the way the public wanted to see him and his new fiance behave. But Riley was too angry, too hurt. She eventually stopped crying and lay her head in his lap. He couldn’t stop thinking about how warm her skin felt against the fabric of his slacks. His breath quickened as he brushed back her auburn hair, revealing her slender neck. Her breasts were pushed together, practically bursting out of her lace dress and he allowed himself an indulgent glance, watching them rise and fall with every breath. Unfortunately, with her head on his lap, he was unable to stop his physical desire from becoming evident. He scooted away and apologized profusely, but instead of recoiling, Riley simply smirked. The next thing he knew, she was unzipping his pants, pulling out his hard arousal, and slowly bringing him into her mouth. That’s how it all started.

They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, and secret trysts became a daily event: in Riley’s train car, hotel rooms, a bathroom stall, the back of the limo. As long as they were alone, it didn’t matter. At first he assumed the sex was simply Riley blowing off steam. She had a tremendous amount of pressure on her to clear her name, not to mention having to learn everything from Cordonia’s history to the royal family’s favorite desserts.

But hot, passionate rendezvous soon became something more. She opened up to him in a way no one else had. She told him about her family, her hopes and dreams, her fears. And one night, she told him something that changed him forever.

“What do you mean you’re not in love with Liam?! You’re joking right?” He took her delicate hands, his heart filling with a mixture of fear and hope.

“I’m completely serious.” Riley said with a look of resolve. “I thought I could get over the feelings of betrayal from when he chose Madeleine, but I cant. And honestly.. over these past few months.. I’ve fallen for someone else.”

He nodded his head sadly, unable to meet her beautiful hazelnut brown eyes. It had to be Drake or Maxwell. She was with them more than anyone. Besides him, of course. He took a deep breath. “Well.. I understand that you have to follow your heart. And while I know I was hired with the intention of helping you clear your name so that you could be with Liam, I am still intent on helping you be with the one you love.”

Riley looked at him and shook her head with a smile. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

He swallowed thickly as Riley straddled his lap, removed his glasses, and ran her fingers through his jet black hair. She spoke against his mouth, so close that he could smell the sweet watermelon lip gloss he had grown to love. “It’s you Justin. I’m in love with you.”

After Riley’s confession, Anton was at war with himself. He knew deep down that their relationship was built on a lie. Other than the fact that he loved her, everything was a lie. She didn’t even know his real name. She didn’t know that he was initially using her to get close to Liam so that he could kill him and become king. She didn’t know that he was secretly betrothed to Olivia since they were children. She didn’t know he had been trained by Olivia’s own parents up until their death, and Lucretia thereafter. His father was the former leader of the Sons of Earth, for god’s sake! Anton had been training for this takeover for almost his entire life.

How could he just give everything up? What would his comrades say if they knew he threw it all away for Riley? She wouldn’t be safe. They would come for her, and him next.

When the engagement tour led them to New York, Anton found himself standing outside of Riley’s hotel room. He reached up to knock nearly a dozen times, but let his arm fall limply beside him. He couldn’t do it. He should just stick to the original plan. But the thing was, he didn’t want to anymore. No, he had to tell her the truth. She might never want to see him again, but that was a risk he had to take. He had to be honest with her. Anton took a deep breath and knocked loudly.

____________________________________________________________

“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” Anton told Lucretia as he leaned against a large filing cabinet in the vault. “I honestly don’t expect you to.”

Lucretia narrowed her eyes as raw fury coursed through her. “No. No! You’re not doing this! I won’t let you!” She crossed the room and grabbed Anton roughly by his jaw. “You were raised for this, and you are not throwing this opportunity away! You are going to be the King of Cordonia! What more could you want?!”

Anton took a deep breath and spoke calmly. “You’re right.”

Lucretia raised an eyebrow and released her grip on him. “Just like that? No arguments or temper tantrums?”

Anton shrugged.

Lucretia rolled her eyes in exasperation. “There are plenty of women in Cordonia who will throw themselves at you once you’re crowned king. You may be married to my niece, but once you give her a few heirs, you can do whatever you want.”

Anton crossed his arms and sighed. “I understand.”

After a moment studying his face, she seemed to accept his answer and handed him a ledger full of old documents. “Keep this safe. It has every copy of your betrothal to my niece. I can’t have her stumbling down here and finding it.”

Without a word, Anton tucked it into his leather satchel that hung across his chest.

“Lord knows she’s already suspicious enough since I’ve come back into her life.” She rolled her eyes. “Although, I was right to do so. If I hadn’t, you would have thrown everything away for that stupid American.”

Anton reached into his bag, running his fingers across a cold metal object he had brought for the elder Nevrakis.

Lucretia gestured animatedly as she sorted through more documents in the vault. “I just don’t understand why everyone is so enamored with Riley. She’s a homely girl with no class or breeding.”

Anton released the safety and leveled his weapon at her.

At the sound of the click, Lucretia stopped talking and whirled around to face him. “Anton.. What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Anton simply smiled and pulled the trigger, instantly ending Lucretia Nevrakis. With that, the life he had been forced into was snuffed out as well. He was free. FInally, he was free to be whoever he wanted.

Olivia turned the corner and gasped loudly. “Oh my god!” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “You could have at least shot her outside of the vault! Now look at the mess I have to clean!” It was true. There was blood splattered all over books and various documents, not to mention the large puddle growing on the carpet under her body.

Anton grinned, placing the Beretta 9mm back into his bag. “Sorry. I just couldn’t wait another second.” He stooped down to drag Lucretia’s body out of the vault, and with Olivia’s help, into a large black bag. The next stop was the incinerator, where the other Son’s of Earth leaders were lying in black bags of their own.

“Don’t you dare forget to put that marriage contract in there with her.” Olivia sneered at the papers Anton removed from his satchel. “I don’t want a trace of them to ever be found.”

“You and me both.” Anton stuffed the documents into the bag with Lucretia's body and zipped it back up.

A small voice pulled he and Olivia’s attention toward the door. “Is it.. Are you.. Um, is she..”

“Yes love, it’s done.” Anton swiftly made his way to her side, pulling her in for a tight hug. “Riley, are you sure you want to be down here?”

“My place is with you. For better or worse.” She booped his nose with a grin.

“Well, I promise it’s only going to get better from here on out.” Anton stroked her hair and placed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Oh, get a room you two.” Olivia called out from inside the vault, making a disgusted face while she scrubbed the blood splatters from the bookshelf.

“Come on. Let’s go help your wife clean up.” Riley said with a giggle.

“Bite your tongue, Riley!” Olivia yelled in dismay.

“You are my wife.” Anton assured his new bride. “As far as I’m concerned, my first and only.”

Riley grinned at her husband. “I love you, Anton.”

Anton never felt so at peace in all his life. He couldn’t believe that Riley still loved him and wanted to be with him even though she knew who he really was. And she knew it all. Back in New York, he spilled his guts to her. They had talked and cried together for hours that night. Eventually Riley convinced him to bring Olivia up to speed, and that got the ball rolling on Lucretia’s imminent demise. “I love you too, Riley Severus.”

#the royal romance #trr fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #riley brooks

53 notes · View notes

kalu-luwa · 2 years

Text

the thrilling conclusion of the incorrect quote trilogy

featuring best girl Yumeko Amane (@sammo-writes-whatever’s magnificent oc)

tw/cw: hella lotsa swearing, definitely ooc very sorry about that, not an x reader, self-indulgent aha, neph is always mean, VINE REFERENCES LET’S GOOOO, lotsa violence, mentions of alcohol, Monster AU because that’s always fun, mentions of religion (Christianity), mentions of systemic oppression

(under the cut for...... reasons)

Ruggie: As a college student, my favourite words are "Cancelled," and "Free." Neph/Leona: Free pizza is cancelled. Ruggie: Why would you even say something like that?

---

Neph, during the Prologue: If you are here, speak to us! The Ghosts: JUST A CITY BOYE, BORN AND RAISED IN SOU-

---

Neph, singing: So no one told you life was- Yume: GONNA BE THIS GAAAAAY~!!! Yume and Neph: *aggressive lesbian and panromantic ace clapping*

---

Neph: goodnight moon Neph: goodnight tree Neph: goodnight ghosts that only i can see

---

Yume: Nephtali. Neph: oh no Neph: 'nephtali' in b-flat Neph: you're disappointed

---

Neph/Epel: *stubs their toe* S H I T Vil: Mind your language! Neph/Epel: Oh, I'm sorry, what am I supposed to say? "Woe is I"??? Vil: Neph/Epel: You're gonna have to accept that swearing is necessary sometimes.

---

Neph: what the fuck is wrong with you Overblotters: could've started with good morning Neph: good morning Neph: what the fuck is wrong with you

---

*if they avoided the black carriage* Yume's mom, driving Yume and Neph: So how was your day? Yume: We almost got surprise-adopted! Yume's mom: What? Neph: We almost got kidnapped. Yume's mom: Oh, okay. Yume's mom: Yume's mom: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT

---

Neph: my life is in the hands of an idiot Grim, pointing to Crowley (or Adeuce): no, no, two idiots

---

Jade: *taps table* Neph: *taps back* Floyd: what are they doing Azul: morse code Jade: *taps table* Neph, kicking the table: YOU TAKE THAT BACK

---

*that one Traitor Ace theory* Neph: Tonight, one of you will betray me. Deuce: Is it me, Nephtali? Neph: No, it's not you. Grim: Is it me, Henchman? Neph: It's not you either. Ace: Is it me, Neph? Neph: Neph, mockingly: Is IT mE, nEPh?

---

Crowley, filling out legal paperwork: So, are you all AMAB or AFAB? Grim: bold of you to assume i was born at all Neph: i personally was created in a lab Yume: i just straight up spawned lol

---

Anyone: Why are Nephtali and Yumeko sitting with their backs to each other? Grim: They had a fight. Anyone: Then why are they holding hands? Grim: They get sad when they fight.

---

Neph: -aaaaaa, call an ambulance- call an ambulance! Neph, menacingly: but not for me Anyone: *PANIC*

---

Neph: I CAN'T DO IT! Yume: I CAN'T EITHER! Neph: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE! Yume, being motivational: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE I CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT ME. Neph: Neph: Yume-chan, I appreciate it... Neph: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH Yume: Nephi- Neph: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE Yume: Nephi we gotta- Neph: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT. Neph: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Neph, motioning to Twisted Wonderland: NOT FUCKING THIS

---

*@twisted-wonderland-shenanigans monster AU, go check it out!!!* Neph: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Jamil: Deuce: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.

---

Neph: You think I really give a fuck? I can’t even read anymore

---

Neph: i’ve come to a point in my life where i need a stronger word than fuck

---

Yume: English is a difficult language. Yume: It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though. Neph: please go to sleep

---

*if Eliza was a Ramshackle ghost* Eliza: I'm kind of crushing on someone, but I'm worried about telling you two who it is because you're not gonna like it. Yume: Just rip the bandage off. Eliza: It's Idia Neph: put the bandage back on

---

Yume, in a high voice, holding Barbie: Hey Ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career! Neph, in a deep voice, holding Ken: Nonsense, Barbie. You’re staying home and having my kids. Grim: what the hell are you guys doing Yume: playing systemic oppression

---

*Chapter 3 or a hiking trip, probably* Yume: Are you sure this is the right direction? Jade: Certainly. I'm as sure as I am honest. Neph: in that case, we're definitely lost

---

Neph: On a scale from “damn Daniel” to “fre sha vaca do”, how are you feeling? Yume: In between “it’s an avocado, thanks” and “how did you defeat Captain America”, but as a solid answer I would say “I don’t need a degree to be a clothing hanger”. How about you, Nephi? Neph: Probably “road work ahead”. Any of the teachers: I speak many languages, and this is not one of them.

---

Neph: Bye Yume-chan! Bye Ace. Bye Deuce. Bye Grim. Bye Yume-chan! Ace: You said ‘bye Yume-chan’ twice. Neph: I like Yume-chan.

---

Yume: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? Yume: How did you even get here so fast? Ace: Several traffic violations. Deuce: Three counts of resisting arrest. Neph: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Grim: Also, that’s not our car. Yume:

---

Ace: I was arrested for being too cool. Neph: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

---

Trein: Rivke, could you read no. 23 for the class? Neph: no i cannot Neph: what up i'm neph i'm 16 Neph: and i never learned how to fuckin read

---

Ace: ay how much money ya got Yume: 69 cents Ace: oop Ace: you know what that means Yume and Neph, crying: we don't have enough money for chicken nuggets

---

Neph, to Octavinelle: why the fuck you lying Neph: why you always lying Neph: mmmm oh my god Neph: stop fucking lying

---

Yume: WELCOME TO BIBLE STUDY WE'RE ALL CHILDREN OF JESUS Neph: *drinking their sorrows away* Grim: *committing arson* The Ghosts: *being general menaces to society* Yume: KUMBAYAH M'LORD-

---

The First Years, about Yume and Neph: -and they were roommates! Everyone else: oh my god they were roommates Yume and Neph:

---

Neph: I should've left you in that coffin where you were standing. Grim: Grim: but ya didn't

---

Yume, probably: *after every Overblot* mothertrucker dude, that hurt like a buttcheek on a stick

---

Yume and Neph: *hiding from an Overblotter* Overblotter: Overblotter: Red~ robin! Yume and Neph: Ey yo!- Yume: OH NO Neph: OH NO

#a comedic attempt was made #twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland #incorrect #incorrect quotes #espi.ritu #nephtali (on a bright cloud of music shall we fly?)#have i told you how much i love yumeko #no? ok then *pulls out 10 page essay*

83 notes · View notes

bakugohoex · 4 years

Note

I was rewatching death note and when L did his monster speech this request was born! So the idea is Bakugo and iida (separately ) with a s/o who has trust issues and is liar ,nothing extremely serious like betraying them! More like smaller stuff? They probably confront them asking why they lie so much!”

({and btw if you haven’t herd L’s monster speech you should for inspiration buts that’s your choice! Have a happy holiday!✨)

“y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: this long sorry, violence, language, some topics of abuse but it isn’t in detail, kissing and fluff

word count: 5200+

a/n: hi sorry i don’t write for iida cause i find him really annoying and i don’t think i have the facilities to write him, but i do write bakugo so here it is, also i love the L speech sm and anything in italics is either a reference to the speech or directly incorporates the speech, have a happy rest of the holiday as well

summary: in which you were raised by villains, by being saved by the heroes, the trust issues and lying you were brought upon reflects you now, bakugo grows ever more frustrated at your lying and all your truths come out

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The echo of the wind bashing against the windowsill roared through the commission, the white walls cascaded around you, it was painful and enduring at how you sat in the middle of the silent room. Waiting. No. Watching, you were listening and seeing those around you, a muzzle around your mouth to surpress your voice. Your wrists coated with the metal handcuffs, you were trapped, and you being stalked by those around you.

“Miss Y/l/n, we have found your family.” The voice is loud and monotone, you didn’t care, fuck your family, fuck what they did to you, fuck them.

Unable to move your hands to put a middle finger up at the camera, one movement causing an electrifying bolt run through your arms. You hated being here, you would rather fend for yourself on the streets than be involved in a hell hole like this.

“No words of happiness.” The sound of a certain pro hero caught your ears, the one who had captured you, held you against your will, locked you in this room. Number two pro hero Hawks.

“You can kill them for all I care.” Your voice dripped with malice not looking up at him.

Monsters who will not show themselves and will cause trouble.

You heard him say something quietly behind him before the jingle of keys were heard. He walked to the handcuffs undoing them, the muzzle clenched against your face, leaving sore marks, he grabbed at it making you face him. You were about to activate your quirk, but he quickly let go making you stop.

“We’re sending you to UA.” You eyes widened, what did a shitty school like UA need with a villain like you.

He looked at your sore wrists, before the signs of the bruises vanished underneath your thumb which you had been rubbing against the purple. He watched you touch your neck which had bruises from being pushed to the ground, all disappearing in a single touch. “A school like that doesn’t need me.”

“Of course it does, your quirk can be used for good.” He softly speaks sitting beside you on the white floor. The room was suffocating, and you wanted to leave it as soon as you could.

“I can’t, I know how to kill, I was raised to kill.” You put your hands to your face, getting rid of the cuts that erupted on your face, with an instance it was all gone. “If I touch you and activate my quirk, I could break you.”

He looks at your tired eyes, a child broken and used by your family to become a villain. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

It gains your attention and with an instance you look at the man, he holds his hand out you grab it with ease, his fingers were soft, you could imagine them breaking under your touch. He guides you out of the room, you walked past to where many other rooms which you assumed where blank and lifeless. Before seeing a window, it was to another room, you saw a woman in bed, she was bandaged up but the silver around her wrist made you in an instance know who it is.

“Your mother she’s dying, the families she ruined wont get proper justice, but I’ll let you go in, you can scream, shout hell you can kill her yourself, but you will join UA.” The sound of being able to kill her, kill the woman who had stolen you away.

“She’s not my mother, she found me.” They were never your family; they had seen you at such a young age and stolen you to indoctrinate.

Monsters who abduct children.

He nods already knowing, “we’ll lock the door.” All that flashed through your eyes was murder, she had taken it all from you, you never wanted to see her family, her stupid husband and her stupid son, you hated them all and you were going to kill her.

The sound of the door locking made you move towards her, she looked up thinking you were hear to save her. “My daughter.” The words were careless and made you angrier.

“I was never your daughter…” You pause her frail fingers had started to wrinkle and her face becoming grey and hair patchy.

“Y/n.” He breathing was rough, but you didn’t care, with an instant you went up to her exposed hands.

A smile formed on your lips, maybe you were a sadist, but you could do one last villainous action, make her fie even quicker, make her beg for forgiveness. Then you would go to UA, you would forget about the torture, forgot about them. You would become something a lot more than they had ever expected.

“I’m going to kill you.” It was comical but her face fell.

“You heartless bitch.” She shouted, “you fucking bitch, no wonder nobody loves you.” You didn’t care about her words smiling away.

The way her fingers cracked under your touch, each bone breaking the screams filling the room. You didn’t care touching even more of her before you moved directly to her heart. Hawks had heard the screams ignoring it maybe it was wrong of him to let you do this. But you deserved justice, your hand moved on top of her chest.

“Y/n…please.” She begged it was heaven in your ears, the woman who had tormented you was begging for you too stop and what else could you do but disagree. She had clinged onto your wrist, tightening her grip, unable to use her own quirk due to the medication, this was your only chance.

Hawks knew it was over, opening the door to see you walk out, he looked at you expecting some emotion but was brought with happiness, almost joy. “Where are the other two?”

“You’ll see them again when they’re locked up, but that’s it, you cant kill them.” You nodded, you’d find a way, you’d find a way to kill them both, but you kept your composure.

The day flew past he explained how you’d have to lie, pretend your life was normal. But the main thing he wanted you to know was.

“If you kill any of them, I’ll be the one to kill you Y/n.” You nod, you had a straight face for most of his lecture, but you felt like he was trying to replace the adult figures you had had in your life. “If you get into any trouble, call me or just want to know how to act human, I know you haven’t been in the best education, but this is a fresh chance.”

“Okay.” It was simple and whilst sleeping in the commission in a much better area with colour and natural light. You watched the sky, watched how the stars danced around the moon, you admired it from a far but oh how you wished to see it up close.

The night was calming, and you were restless, but it wasn’t out of fear of going to UA, it was of fear they would find out who you were. Find out you were a villain, find out that you had caused deaths along the way. You were confident in your abilities, but they were new people, you had been surrounded by A rank and B rank villains all your life. Hell you had been classed as an A rank villain but now you would become something in life.

Hawks hadn’t bothered to tell you about your real parents, all that was known was you had been on the streets, you were a nobody and you would remain like that if you tried hard enough. The night had led to a lack of sleep with tossing and turning, the nightmares blaring through your head. The torment the way they would use your quirk at the tender age of five to kill and kill again.

Monsters who devour dreams.

The sound of coughing woke you up in your slumber, you hadn’t grown close to the winger hero. But he was trying, he gave you your new uniform, helped you pack a bag with everything and even gave encouraging words along the way.

The uniform was gross but after being trapped for weeks in solitude you were finally getting human contact, experiencing the world. “I’ll help you settle in; the teachers know your…past.” You nod, he was avoiding it and so were you, the drive being filled with silence.

Your gaze had been out the window, the hues of red and yellow cascaded through the sky, it was beautiful. A month ago the only thing you had seen was thick concrete walls, murder only occurring inside of the building you had called home for years.

“We’re here.” He whispers opening the door for you, taking your bags he watches you hit the air and feel the sun, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

Your surpress the smile looking down, “make friends Y/n.” You nod, you were able to make friends, of course you were it was the not sticking out like a sore thumb that bothered you.

These people will have known each other for a month’s now but you, you weren’t normal. Hawks gave a smile walking you inside the building, “I’ll go drop your bags off to your new room once you’ve settled in.”

You walked past the doors, before arriving in front of a humongous door, shrugging at how Hawks spoke about the class. “The league tried to get them.” You mutter out. “They had talked to Shigaraki about it prior, we were going to go with them but my bro…he got sick.”

It was a lie of course; it wasn’t that he had gotten sick. You had touched him; broken his arm and you had been punished in an instant. You were made to sleep in the rain, eat off the ground, it was torture and you had felt sucked to death.

Monsters who suck blood.

Hawks nods, you misspeaking made you nervous, this was the first time you would be talking and listening to people who you weren’t about to kill. The door opened and you didn’t dare face the class, the teacher who you assumed was Aizawa stood in a sleeping bag, you dismissed it knowing how powerful his quirk was.

“We’ve got a new student today, Y/n Y/l/n and pro hero Hawks is here.” The shock on there faces was something, but it felt more to Hawks than it was to you.

“I’ll be leaving I’ll call tonight.” You nod at Hawks watching him leave with your stuff, your bag hanged loosely on your shoulder. You analysed them all, scanning up and down before you saw the boy who you knew Shigaraki had captured, the Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya who your ‘parents’ had told you about.

You stopped staring at them, Izuku looked down not meeting your gaze whilst Bakugo scowled at you, “why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Oh umm…” You stuttered Hawks had made you practice a fake backstory but, in an instant, it was forgotten, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N, I moved here with my family a…and ugh.”

Monsters who always tell lies.

You didn’t know what else to say, refusing to meet their gazes as you looked out the window, the birds chirping, petals falling in the August heat, it was beautiful, how life spewed out into the world. But also how easily it was to destroy life, how in one touch everything could break and deteriorate, “Y/n.” Aizawa had been repeating your name but you hadn’t gotten out of your daze until the third time.

“Yes.” You whisper.

He points to a seat behind Bakugo and in front of Midoriya, “go sit behind Bakugo.” You nod, walking past them all, they seemed already accustom to their friends. This was going to be a lot harder; it wasn’t like you were infiltrating it to gain anything. You going against the indoctrination and being the opposite of what you had been brought up to be.

You felt someone tap your shoulder as Aizawa went to what looked like sleep, quickly turning around to meet the green haired boy. “I’m Izuku Midoriya.”

You pretended to not know him, smiling as you introduced yourself again, “Yeah I heard.”

“Why did your parents move?” A blonde boy shouted, you saw the black in his hair, it was a look, but you had seen a lot worse hairstyles.

“Oh, work.” It was an easy enough lie which nobody would be able to see through. “We move around a lot.”

He doesn’t say anymore, as some of the girls come around the table, all introducing themselves, you smile thinking this had become easier by the minute. As quickly as introductions had occurred between the whole class, the day had begin to conclude and all that was left was training.

You didn’t have a hero costume so remained in the UA uniform; it was easy enough. With the odd amount of people, Aizawa had made you stay beside him. “I want you to break all of their left legs.”

Was this a trick or a ploy? You were happy to accept knowing this to be an easy enough thing to do, you saw how they had all began to bunch together. It was paced easily, skimming through each and everyone of them, jumping onto the high buildings as you touched all their left legs with ease, even Midoriya whose quirk you had known to be superior had not been paying attention, you easily touched it before hiding it. Your last victim was Bakugo who seemed to be jumping around, you saw how he stood in front of Kirishima in the open area, well you were going to make this a show.

You already heard the screams of some of the class and whilst being distracted you touched the blond’s leg, having assumed it was the wind he ignored the feeling. Ready to attack just as you bounced back to Aizawa.

In an instance you saw the class cascade onto their left knees, the shouting and tears flowing from some of them. It was quick enough, and you almost felt the thrill of killing from doing this small action.

Even Bakugo who had tried to not become grounded was repressing growls at the pain, “What’s ha…” You heard Momo ask on the ground, even the boy you had known as Endeavor’s son had collapsed onto the floor.

“It’s good, and you can heal them as well.” Aizawa ignored the class taking it as an endurance test.

You nodded about to go reverse it, “no let them feel it.” He had stopped you, you spaced in and out watching them on the floor, you stood in silence, it was easy enough to be stealthy even the invisible girl was easy to get after seeing the gloves floating about.

Aizawa after a couple minutes let you touch there legs again, all regaining strength again. They were all a bit out of it but Bakugo seemed the most pissed at you, not understanding your quirk. The class stood in silence looking at you, you didn’t look at them, wanting to leave and just look out at the sky for a bit.

“Y/n, was that your quirk?” The questions cascaded out, but you refused to answer, you didn’t care if they knew but you felt anxious and untrustworthy of these people. They could end up using it against you, hell they might even try and cut your hands off, so you’re left quirk less.

You had heard it happened to Overhaul so what would make you think that these groups of future pro heroes wouldn’t do it you. “No.” Is all you say, it was a lie, and you were going to stick by it forever.

Lying monsters they are much more cunning than other monsters.

Look into the horizon and see hope, “can we go now?” You muttered to Aizawa, he nodded, you didn’t stop to talk to them instantly leaving.

You didn’t want to face the question and answers, you wanted to be alone. You understood after all these years of being isolated, making friends, being around other people had took a toll on you and you wanted to curl up into a ball.

You grabbed your bag changing as quick as you could, instantly walking past the class who had just arrived to change. You saw the message on the phone Hawks had given you a number and floor of where you assumed your room was.

Whilst walking towards where the dorms were you heard the shout of your name. Turning around you were met with Todoroki, “oh hi.”

“Your quirk its…” He trailed off not knowing the words.

He joined you in the walk to the dorms, “you can say villainous, I can kill people with it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that but at least you’re on our side.” He smiles out before talking about the class and how impressed they were with your quirk.

All you could think about were the words he had said though our side, what did it mean? Were there sides to this world, were you going to remain on the side of justice or go against Hawks and run and kill and be killed by him.

You had ignored everything else he had said, “I’m glad I’m on your side as well.” It was a blatant lie, but you were trying, trying to put on a façade. You tried to understand him, understand the emotions that were around you. But you didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how something has harmless as you had done had made them impressed. If they wanted to be impressed, you could kill someone. If they really wanted.

They pose as humans even though they have no understand of the human heart.

Todoroki talked about how meals worked and the works and before you knew it, he had dropped you off directly outside the dorm room. “I’ll come get you for dinner.” You nodded before sucking in a breath. You had your own room, your own sanctuary, you could make it look however you wanted.

You walked inside seeing your bags to the side, a desk and a bed it was normal and empty. Hell if you knew what to do with the room, you had no pictures to put up, no possessions only the new clothes Hawks had brought you. It was barren and you expected it would remain this way.

You laid on the bed, feeling the soft and warm covers, it was a new experience, the rags you had slept in prior being nothing compared to this. It was comfort that you had never experience, the few hours later bringing the half haired boy to your room.

You had put the clothes in the designated area and been waiting on the bed, staring out of the window. It was getting dull and wearing the clothes that fit too right, you opened the door to see Todoroki.

“We’re waiting downstairs.” You nod, pulling at the sleeves of the shirt as you followed the boy. He made conversation which you gave small yeah back too. You were eating for the sake of it, eating to fuel you it wasn’t to satisfy or pleasure you it was to make you stronger. That’s how you had been brought up and that’s how you seemed to remain.

You saw the class crowding a table, a confusion settling on your face. Even the angry Bakugo was perched on the table, Todoroki coughed, and everybody turned their backs. “She’s hear.” Mina squealed, “we got you a cake to celebrate you joining our class.”

Your face fell in confusion, why were they being nice? You had hurt them and now they had gotten you a cake, you had never had a cake, always being told it was bad for you and would ruin your quirk.

“A c…cake.” You stuttered.

“Yeah, a cake, look its got frosting.” Ururaka smiled moving to show you the cake.

It was Midoriya the next to speak, “we think your quirk is really cool and don’t want you to think we think it’s a villain quirk or something.”

Your eyes widened; the cake had blue frosting but the sound of Midoriya repeating what Todoroki spoke out too you. You took a deep breath before faking a smile, everybody seemed to believe it and your next words, “thank you guys so much it means a lot.”

Bakugo knew, Bakugo saw how your eyes were lying, how your face might have been smiling but inside you were dying. Those eyes of yours, the way your upper lip twitched whilst cutting the cake. He saw it all and, in the end, he saw how your fingers skimmed the knife, as if you were thinking about murder. But what did he know about an extra like you.

They eat even though they’ve never experienced hunger.

A couple weeks had passed, and you seemed to have settled in, well that’s what Hawks had assumed after every daily call with you. His words echoing in your head, one murder and you would die yourself. You had grown closer with all of them , specifically Mina and Kirishima, but Bakugo was another story, he was scowl every time you looked at him, everytime you tried to make conversation. You both hadn’t shared a single conversation only being around each other due to your mutual friends.

The day Mina had asked to study in your room had brought Kirishima, Sero, Denki and Bakugo to your room. You hadn’t expected all of them, but you put on a fake smile again, you didn’t need to revise, hell if it wasn’t for your quirk, you’d still be academically smarter then the rest of them.

You didn’t confess to this truth only accepting them inside the barren room, you hadn’t gotten time to print out the pictures you had taken with the class. As much as the villain inside of you hated to admit it you were enjoying your time. You had thought the first night at UA, that in a month you’d have killed them, the villain in you would come out and you’d stop all their hearts, but now, smiling with them maybe things were different.

Or maybe you were lying to yourself, because to Bakugo you still showed the lying nature, your eyes were filled with lies and could dare look at you. It was only for Kirishima who had dragged him alone, he wanted to ask why you lied, why you didn’t tell the truth? A true pro hero would never go to this extent, but he had no proof, it was in his head.

It was all true, you had continued this lie, making up about how your parents and you were distant, but you had a brother who you were close with. The brother who had stolen you had never been close with you, he hated you, resented your quirk and had killed anybody around you to prove he was the better child.

You imagined him locked up right now, locked away in the hell hole, it was callous, but you relished in his pain. Mina had begun asking questions which you ignored thinking, you zoned out looking out of the window. He was probably chained up, sobbing at how he regretted it all. Regretted hurting you, you bet he didn’t even know that you were the one to kill his mother.

It was comforting but you knew you would have to surpress these thoughts to seem normal. “Sorry, I spaced out, say that again?” You quickly spoke.

Bakugo had noticed you space out, noticed how your lips twitched upwards into a cruel face he had seen that face before. Seen it on every villain he had even encountered and the fear that filled him, startled you all as he knocked the books to the floor.

You continued helping Mina ignoring the boy who continued looking at you. He didn’t bother helping Kirishima, only glaring at you, it wasn’t like he cared if you trusted them or not. But you were no hero to him, even if Deku and Todoroki told you, you were a hero, you would always be something villainous. The night fell and they all left, Bakugo having glared the entire night, it was unnerving, and you were fearful he was catching on, but you dismissed it. It was easy to not overthink these types of stuff, you could always threaten the boy.

They study even though they have no interest in academics.

The late night was unnerving you could feel Bakugo’s presence surround the room, you jolted up. Looking around, feeling watched, before you noticed the hoodie Bakugo had been wearing draped over the chair. He might be awake, he could be, you didn’t care, you got up stretching before grabbing the hoodie and creeping out the door.

You were on the same floor as the boy, so in a quick few steps you arrived at his door. You knocked hesitantly, maybe you should’ve waited. You shook your head, knowing that the feeling of his hoodie in your room made you on edge. You knocked again, and on the third a sleep Bakugo opened the door.

They seek friendship even though they do not know how to love.

He rubbed his eyes before noticing who it was, “what the hell do you want?”

You scowled looking at him, “you left your hoodie in my room.”

You pushed it on him about to leave, but instead he grabs your wrist, “we need to talk.”

“We can talk in the morning.” You were fearful not of him but the threat he knew your secret, knew everything about you.

He ignored you dragging you inside and shutting the door, “sit down.” He mutters, you oblige sitting on the edge of his bed, he had been wearing a black shirt and shorts, you didn’t look at him, instead looing around his room. You see a picture of what looks to be his parents, he was the spitting image of his mother. He looked angry in it but even then, it was a family picture filled with love, something you would never have.

“Why do you lie?” He meets your gaze.

“L…lie, I haven’t.” You lie out.

“I see it in your eyes, you have this face and I’ve seen it on villains, who are you?” His voice had become harsher and you felt intimidated. Fuck, you had killed people and a rowdy blond boy was making you scared.

“I told you…”

He interrupts you, “Y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once.”

“Bakugo I don’t know what you’re on about.” You say acting dumb to leave this situation, “I’ve tried to be nice to you but you jus…”

He speaks over you to make you shut up, “you don’t want to be friends, what are you Y/n?”

His voice was eery and he continued to spew out the truth, “you’re a villain aren’t you.”

You take a deep breath the tears about to brim from your eyelids, “I’m the monster, parents tell their kids about.”

Bakugo watched the tears flow out, he didn’t know what to do, he brought his hand to your face wiping the tears with his thumb. “Y/n tell me the truth.”

You look a mess, but you didn’t care, and you confessed it all, you didn’t lie or skim over the truth. You told him from the moment you got taken to the moment you killed the woman who had made you call her mother.

You expected him to push you away, tell everybody instead he sat in silence. Before bringing you into his arms, “I shouldn’t have called you a villain.” It was a soft side to the boy who had been known for being aggressive, after hearing your sufferings he understood, and he wanted to make sure you were always safe and protected.

“I am a monster though.”

He makes you look up at him, holding your face in his hands, “you’re not, the monsters are those people.”

You don’t speak instead leaning your head against his shoulders, you had never been this vulnerable with anyone. He held your head onto his body, moving onto the pillow to let you lie down on him, he brought you comfort, let you cry on him. You weren’t a villain; you weren’t a villain and if Bakugo believed it then you weren’t a villain to the boy who had been surrounded by them just as much as you had.

After that night Bakugo and you had grown into a strong friendship, it was shocking to the class who had never seen you even talk. The way he would come and make you coffee in the morning, walk with you to each class. Sit beside you in at lunch, even go as far as it train with you just so you felt included.

But seeing how you both talked and smiled at each other, for the first time you had a genuine smile on your face, a genuine laugh that wasn’t filled with lies from your past. They watched how the two of you grew over the course of the next month, how the two of you grew closer and closer. It was unfathomable but you had made a true friend, a friendship that wasn’t based on lies, maybe one day you’d tell them all.

But at the time being you were content with having the angry boy be remotely nicer to you than anybody. It was Mina who had noticed how Bakugo would open the door for you or hold your bag occasionally. The unusual behaviour making everybody think he was sick, but all you saw from him was kindness that had evolved for you.

What they hadn’t realised was how at ease you both had gotten into a routine of sneaking into each other’s rooms. How you’d hold onto each other, talk and vent about the past in each other’s arms. Friends don’t do that; friends don’t hold and comfort each other like you both did.

On one of the many nights you both spent together, his arm around your waist, you looked at him. Looked at his fiery red eyes and fallen blond hair, he had become something more to you. Somebody who you could trust with your life.

“Stop looking at me, its creepy.” He scolds, you laugh at the boy bringing your hand to his hair.

You feel him stare down at your tiny figure, “I thought you were a real bitch the first time we met.”

“You don’t think that anymore.” You pout out nearing closer to his plump lips.

“I still think you’re a fucking bitch.” He laughs, cocking his head back before bringing it back to your face, the gap having narrowed and all you could see was his fiery eyes stare back at you. “You’re my bitch...though.”

You nod not making a remark as the gap closes between you. Your lips moving together in an instant, it was long awaited and seethed with love and hope. But most of all it proved the woman who you called mother wrong, you weren’t heartless, and you have the love she spoke about from Bakugo.

Monsters who always tell lies.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world

370 notes · View notes

sunsinrinn · 4 years

Text

Secrets Part 3.

Bakugo x reader, Bakugo x Uraraka, Kirishima x Reader

Fluff- ish, language, angst

Word count: 2,076

Idea: Y/n has a secret to share with bakugo not expecting a secret from him. She leaves heart broken and attempts to move on. But how will she move on if her secret can no longer be hidden? She fakes a relationship hoping its enough to not expose the true origin of the secret. (This is a terrible summary but I cant say much without spoiling future parts. 🙃)

“I have a plan that could probably fool everyone” he says slowly waiting for a sign from you to continue. You speak up, “Go on..”

He takes a deep breath before speaking again, “We could fake date.” As you open your mouth to speak he speaks up again, “I mean think about it. We would have to lie about how far along you are but it would fool everyone. I think. We can say we fell in love with each other but we are taking our time until one day I accidentally get you pregnant...” He looks at you while you think about his idea. He chews his lip waiting anxiously for your response.

“Let’s do it” You finally say and smile at home. He smiles brightly and says, “Hopefully it works.”

“How does it feel, Kiri, to be a dad?” You say jokingly. He freezes and realizes, “Oh snap you’re right- IMMA BE A WHOLE DAD- this is the happiest day of my life-“

You look at him in admiration. Come to think of it... he willingly accepted to raise a kid who wasn’t his and he never hesitated even if it was fake. You see his face beam with joy. ‘That joy doesn’t seem fake...’

You spend the rest of the day thinking of the story you’d have to tell others when you suddenly realize “KIRISHIMA-“ he looks at you frightened thinking something happened, “YOU MISSED YOUR PATROL-“

He looks at you for a while and laughs, “Oh yeaah- I forgot to mention I took the day off to stay with you”

You look at him with a wild look, “Why did you do that?”

“Like I said, so I could spend time with you and because I wanted to help you unpack. But you were done when me and Izuku came over.” He gives you a loopy grin.

You feel butterflies at his smile but ignore the feeling pretending its you appreciating his kindness. There is no way you’re falling again so soon right?

You get up and hug him, “Thank you so much Kirishima for being here for me. Thank you in advance for putting up with me when I get bigger and more annoying”

He hides his blush in the crook of your shoulder. And hold you near. “I promise to protect you and this baby, even if the baby isn’t mine.” He says softly. ‘I promise to protect you both because I love you more than life itself. And I know i will love you’re baby as my own.’ Kirishima knew this was the only way he could show his love for you and not worry about you rejecting him. He knew you didn’t love him like he did you but he settled for that.

As it nears dinner time you walk to the kitchen and begin preparing dinner. Kirishima wanders after you and watches as you seem content and thinks of what it would have been if he did live a life like this with you. Before he knew it dinner was ready and you serve him a plate and place it in front of him snapping him out of his daydream. He thanks you and waits for you to sit and eat with him.

After dinner he insists on washing the dishes and for you to relax because you’re pregnant. You almost argue that you were fully capable but as soon as you open your mouth he sweeps you off your feet and settles you on the couch as he runs off to do the dishes.

When he swept you off your feet your heart began to race furiously. You tried to push down the feeling but couldn’t help to think of why you felt that way. The only thing you could come up with was love but no that can’t be.

After Kirishima comes back he sits beside you and you both continue to talk about how your plan is going to work.

You spend the rest of your time off with Kirishima and Izuku whichever is off or has time. Other times you spend it alone or shopping for your baby because in your mind, it was never to early to start shopping. Heck, even Kirishima would come over after work and have something for the baby. He was as excited as you were. You notice how he took the role of being a dad seriously even if it wasn’t his child.

You finally return to work but after a couple of month of returning to work again, your pregnancy belly began to show causing you talk to your agency about having an indefinite leave from hero work until after your baby was born. They understand and let you go on maternity leave.

So again you find yourself at home. Tired of sitting around you decide to take a walk. You put on a loose dress that does a great job at hiding your belly and head out. As you take a stroll, you bump into someone and you mutter an apology as you look up and freeze. ‘Shit’ You dont know what to do or say so you stay quiet hoping he leaves you alone. “Y/N?” You hear him say and curse quietly, “Hey bakugo...”

He looks relieved and speaks again, “I’ve been trying to contact you and explain... but it says your number isn’t available. I also tried looking for you but I dont know where you live...”

“And I intend to keep it that way too, Bakugo” You walk off and feel him reach out and as he is about to grasp your arm you yank it back and you feel yourself fall and twist your ankle. Bakugo pales when he sees you fall and twist your ankle. “SHIT SHIT- IM SORRY Y/N- LET ME TAKE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL-“

“No-“ you try to stand but cant so you relent, “Fine, but please call kirishima for me”

His face scrunches up and wonders why you want to call kirishima. As he sits you in his car he dials Kirishima’s number and when he picks up you calmly begin to speak, “Hey kiri, Bakugo is taking me to the hospital... I twisted my ankle”

“Y/N? WHAT HAPPENED- HOLD ON I HAVE TO FINISH MY PATROL AND ILL BE THERE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE DONT GO ANYWHERE” and he hangs up. You sigh, ‘where the hell am I supposed to go with a twisted ankle’ and set the phone down and see that you’ve arrived to the hospital. You see bakugo head inside and comes out a couple of seconds later with a nurse pushing a wheel chair. You wait as they sit you on the wheel chair and roll you inside.

After an hour the doctor comes back, Bakugo who insisted to stay mutters out, “Finally.”

“Well Miss. l/n, its a good thing that its only a sprain. And Also, did you know you’re pregnant-“

You pale and watch as Bakugo stiffens. You softly respond “Yeah, is the baby okay?”

“Yes! The baby is okay perfectly healthy, the fall did not harm them.”

You sigh in relief and before you answer you hear a familiar but out of breath voice say, “Oh crap I’m sorry I’m late but its a good thing the baby is healthy.” You smile at Kirishima but that smile doesn’t last when you look over at Bakugo who is so furious it looks like he’s about to let out some explosions.

“Can we have some alone time doctor?” Bakugo asks coldly and the doctor nods and walks out not wanting to be stuck in that drama.

“What the hell does he mean by your pregnant?” He growls out.

Both you and Kirishima pale and look at each other. ‘Well shit.’ None of you say anything so Bakugo speaks again,

“Is it mine? Is the baby mine?” He says almost hoping its true. Hoping that it will be a way to win you back.

You hesitate before answering, “No, that baby is Kirishima’s”

“YOU CHEATED ON ME AS WELL? YOU ACTED LIKE A VICTIM WHEN IN REALITY YOUR JUST A FILTHY WHORE?!!”

You grow angry but before you can say anything, Kirishima speaks for you.

“Dont you dare accuse y/n of being a whore. She is the most loyal person I have ever met. We did not mean to fall in love with each other but we did and now we are expecting.” He says it so calmly almost like he isn’t mad but oh boy he is furious. But unlike Bakugo, he knows it isn’t manly to loose his temper.

You stare in shock as you watch Kirishima defend you and as Bakugo sadden at Kirishima’s words. Did you really fall in love with Kirishima he asks himself.

“Please leave Bakugo,” Kirishima demands, “You’re stressing Y/N out and she doesn’t need that stress right now.”

Your heart beats uncontrollably as you watch him worry about you and the baby.

The doctor walks in after Bakugo storms out and says you can be released after you sign some papers. After signing them you are about to getup but before you even touch the ground you’re being picked up by a pair of strong arms making you blush. Kirishima notices your blush and blushes as well. He takes you to his car that not even gonna lie is parked terribly in his attempt to rush in to see you. He sits you down and buckles you in, “I can still buckle myself in Kiri” You say giggling slightly, “I know, but I still like to do it for you, princess” he shuts the door and runs to the other side. He buckles in and sets of home. When you arrive he insist on carrying you in all the way into your apartment. You thank him and before he leaves he makes you promise you’ll call him if you need anything. You laugh and promise.

After a week of being cared for by Kirishima you finally convince him to let you go shopping for baby things. He reluctantly agrees but only if he goes too. You sigh and agree. As you finish getting ready you stand in the mirror and look at your belly. ‘You’re getting bigger and bigger everyday, my love’ you think as you rub your belly. Kirishima walks in to see if you were done and sees you looking at your belly. He smiles and approaches you wrapping his arms around your stomach.

“Do you think I will be a good mother?” You ask him.

He is taken aback by the question but answers truthfully,

“I think you’ll be the best mom this little blessing could ever hope for.”

You smile and respond, “and you’ll be an amazing dad as well”

He smiles at that and says, “Y/n... I need to get something off of my chest...”

You look at him scared fearing the worst and answer, “What is it?”

“I think I’m in love with you...” He removes his arms from around you and looks at you waiting for rejection but it never comes, instead you say,

“I think I’m in love with you too” He smiles at that and gives you a small kiss on your lips. He feels so happy he could burst.

“I was so scared of telling you but I knew I couldn’t hide it anymore.”

“I’m glad you told me Kiri, I was scared to admit I had feelings for you because I was scared of being broken again but I know you’re not like that” You smile and speak again, “Now lets go because I want to go shopping for our baby” You pull him along and you leave your room and apartment.

You both decide to walk to the mall and enjoy each other’s company as you walk even with your twisted ankle you dont mind it because you have kirishima that was distracting you. As you arrive you head straight to the maternity stores not seeing a certain pink haired girl walk near you. Kirishima speeds up trailing after you not wanting to be apart from you.

As you browse the clothing you hear a familiar voice behind you,

“Y/N?! Is that you??? What are you doing in the maternity store-“ she trails off when you turn around to face her. She stares at your stomach, then at kirishima, and then at you and then back at the stomach.

“Holy shit- YOURE HUGE”

SERIES MASTERLIST — Part 4

A/N: this chapter is wack- sorry about that also sorry for it being so long I didnt realize it 🤧 also can you believe I wrote a chapter that was filled with very little angst? < I wrote that before I wrote the falling scene- Whew, anyways, if you’d like to be tagged you can send a dm, ask, or comment <3

Secrets taglist: @hero-ink-pillar , @silentw-lkr , @ushiwakatrash , @purple-rabanito

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x uraraka #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #ejirou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha

141 notes · View notes

lumberingleviathan · 5 years

Text

Minotaur x Reader PT 2

Thanks to the amazingly kind request from @smikis-stuff, Here’s part two of the Minotaur fic! Part one here

Warnings: Lemon

~X~

Though the labyrinth proves itself a cage, you are learning the routes of it. No moving wall can dissuade your goal now; maneuvering with a sure footed courage you didn’t have before. How the memory lingers, tentatively moving your way in deeper, and deeper. How much fear had gripped at your heart, the weight of expectation from your village at your back.

You had been meant for only one purpose, to pay the blood tax of life. A gift to the gods in exchange for peace- how little a price it might seem to those not chosen to foot the bill. The late evening watching the fireflies kick up in the fields, wistfully wondering if a summer rain was on the way. No thought that your future would change so immensely, so caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed being chosen.

How it felt to suddenly be seen, all eyes turned towards you, your fate sealed.

It should have been the end, the day you crept into the clearing, but it hadn’t. Even now it seems like a far off dream, the vicious beast turned docile at your touch- turned feral in a way that heated right down to your toes. The labyrinth was now your home as well, no one would take you back- and you could never bring yourself to leave him either. The feel of him beneath you, chest rising, and falling; ballooning your form up with each inhale. How small you felt, cheek brushing against the hard muscle of him. Fingertips gently tracing scar tissue, as if somehow you could pull the making of them into your own body. That you might concoct a way to undo the harm done, if only you’d been born a witch, or maybe even that of the fey.

Surely then you might offer him true help.

Words though, words you’re learning to give him, even as his tongue troubles against the thickness of his lips. Clicks against the back of his teeth, he’s learning though, voice rich, and deep, breathy at the tail end of each word. The sky above you glitters with the gems of constellations, the names of which he knows, too, more than even you.

He holds you against him now, laying out in the soft grass, the largeness of his hand splaying fingers across your stomach. “I was old when the sky was still new.” He says, near whispers in the low timber of his voice. His ears flicking quick against the breeze, a flare of nostrils when you shift. Moving to prop yourself up on his chest, “Were you always here?” The question has gnawed at you now, weeks you’ve spent, learning this place, learning him, and how he offers you the same courtesy.

A question for a question.

“No, once I was in lands teeming green, once there were flowers so yellow the sun envied them.” As he speaks he noses at you, the ease of his hands now drifts, pulls at your dress, prods at your ribs. There’s other things he’s learning too, a kind of hunger you can give him no true name for, new as it is to yourself. The question he asks is a silent one, slowly shifting your legs spread over his chest, knees digging into his ribs. Your dress pools up against your waist, rich crimson fabric, he slides it through his fingers. The way he touches you is decadent, long passes, hands raising to draw up your spine, curling over your shoulders.

Behind you his hips lift, before a huff of air lowers you again. Patience is a thing he’s learning, too, “How do we get out?” Your next question, while your fingers work through his fur, drag nails slowly over the skin beneath. How he shudders, and ruts upwards, a smirk on your face. The hands on your shoulders move to your dress, how the void of his eyes stays steady on you even as he tears open your dress.

Such slow degrees, revealing you inch by inch, while spot foams slightly at his mouth. Palming at your left breast, working it in his palm, while your head tilts back, hair curtaining down with the motion. Hades at your thoughts, “Out.” You question, firmer now squeeze your knees against him, even while his other hand drifts down, a thick index finger splitting the seam of you. “There is no out.” He counters, while his finger starts to work slow circles against your nerves. Breath catching, knees starting to tremble.

“Magnus.” He told you once he had a name, but time stole it- Magnus is the one you’ve given him. The one he likes to hear. How he’s teasing the folds of you, still on his back, “Why would you want to leave?” Is what he asks, the chain that once held him broken six days past. How he’d told you he finally had a reason, that he’d found a new chain.

Frustration blooms as you try to grind against his touch, voice a plea this time, “Magnus-“ he licks his lips, tongue large, and how you remember all too keenly what it felt like inside of you. The thought makes you shiver even while he’s slowly pushing you back. Down his chest, nestling against his stomach, you can feel the hardness of his cock against your back. “We could go somewhere, make a home-“ you manage, losing thought when his index presses into you. Curls in slightly, and your moan riles him all the more. His cock twitching, even while you start to shameless fuck yourself onto his finger.

“We are home.” But even he’s losing the argument, that he can not imagine any place better so long as it has you. That the sky is endless and vast, and that perhaps a great sea awaits on the horizon, but it is nothing compared to looking at you now. The flush of your face, the wanton cant of your hips. More so the way you look at him, like he isn’t a thing to fear- but love, maybe.

He dare not say the word.

For their is power in such things, and he’s all but sold to you as is. Your hand reaching back, working at his cock, squeezing at the head while pre-cum sticks against your fingers. “Later,” it’s an offer he gives, that later he might speak of out, but now? Now there’s only relenting to what’s been building at each touch. How he lifts you, gaze transfixed as he lowers you onto him. It’s always like the first time, almost always just this edge of too much, before it proves not enough. Not until you’re flush against him, and your mouths going dry,

The stars seem so close with your head thrown back, while he lets you set the pace. Let’s you ride him even while his fingers dig in against your hips. His own head jerks, turns to the side, left horn gouging into the earth. Kicking up dirt, and you’ve lost all rhythm, there’s just frantic now. As if with your body alone you can convince him of more, the world beyond this, beyond you both.

For all of him he never jerks you beneath him, seems to reveal in you taking him. In being able to watch how his cock splits you, how well you take it again, and again. Back hoof cracking hard behind you each time, like he can’t figure what to do with the rest of him. That when you break it sends you forward, mouth almost clumsy against his own. That it’s too small by comparison, his tongue fills your mouth, all but gag against it taking so much space. Let your teeth sink into the meat of it, and feel him spasm beneath you.

How later, he walks you towards a stream, water moving towards the walls. He walks just behind you, how his hand rests at the small of your back. “If we go, we can’t come back. If we go, they will hunt us.” You lift your head to look up at him, how in the moonlight he gleams. The gold adorning his horns all but glitters like this, and you nod, turning towards the walls. One by one they seem to slide back, exposing the stream more with each wall you step past. The air starts to grow colder, whips at your hair, and his hold on you only tightens.

He only asks once more, “You’re sure?” This time you don’t speak words, but instead use his language. Reaching for his arm you turn, stepping back, pulling him with you. One step at a time, each walk you pass seals up once more, taking you both further away from the courtyard, and out into a world yet known. There isn’t green waiting for you hear, but the taste of salt in the air. Sand beneath your feet where the stream feeds out into water spread so far you can’t see anything on the horizon.

There isn’t the same fear you felt first stepping into the labyrinth. Though there’s no walls you know this is a new maze, one where there’s no sure footed path.

Yet you are no longer alone, but free. Walking towards the waters edge, Magnus behind you. How he pauses to breathe in deep, and his laughter bellows warmer than anything towards the sky.

It seems there are things to discover yet.

#exophilia #minotaur x reader #minotaur #monster boyfriend #monster lover #my writing

226 notes · View notes

j-writesandstuff · 5 years

Text

equal, hermano

The second Rafael and Max were through the front door of the loft Max ducked, practically running, into their shared room the slam of the door reverberating across the whole apartment. Rafe let out a deep sigh, he knew his little brother would have locked the door by now so he dropped his bag by the door and shuffled towards the kitchen. Defeat was not a feeling Rafe enjoyed, neither was helplessness. Especially when it concerned his little brother.

He was born lucky, he knew it-he'd been raised to know and appreciate that fact. As a shadowhunter birthright is often the first thing you're taught at the institute. But his parents had also taught him the privilege it bought him in their world, the struggles he would never have to face all because he got lucky in the lottery of existence. Many in their world would tell him his brother was born unlucky, pulled the short straw. The same was often said about his Papa. Rafe never really understood it all, all he saw of them was the fact Max healed every injured creature he came across since the age of three, and the fact his Papa conjured waffles when he was sad, Max made runes dance on the ceiling in shimmering purple when studying was melting his brain, his Papa helped save the world. He didn't understand the people who hated them. He doubted he ever would. He also would never understand the people making his little brother want to lock himself away in their room. Rafe knew he needed to think of something. To him, Max had always been equal sometimes he even considered the fact Max was superior to him in plenty of ways. He and his family saw Max like that, but he wanted everyone to.

That's when the idea hit him. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he heard the soft hum of classical music-his Dads favourite- and saw his fathers gently swaying along together as they prepared dinner. Perfectly in-sync with each other. He almost didn't want to interrupt. Almost.

'Uh. Dad, Papa, can I ask you about something?'

They both jumped a little at the presence of their son bursting the little bubble they'd created but composed themselves quickly.

Magnus spoke first.

'Of course sweet pee, always. What's up?' Both Magnus and Alec had lent against the breakfast bar, opposite their eldest son sitting on the bar stool.

'How does the alliance rune work?'

Neither of them was prepared for that question-it was written all over their faces. They shared a glance. With that glance they shared a whole a conversation, Alec placed his hand gently on the back of Magnus' arm just above his elbow-their secret sign of support.

'Well, your Aunt Clary saw it just before the war with Valentine.' Magnus always said his name like that, as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. His whole family did. Rafe hadn't heard it all, but he was sure it did.

Alec continued, they always spoke like this. Flowing perfectly one after the other-together.

'It binds the two who share it, I and your father share it with each other. I can use your Papas abilities, as he can use mine. I could use it to conjure a portal, and he could light up a seraph blade.'

They both got a faraway look in their eyes as Magnus finished.

'I'm almost certain that rune saved at least a thousand lives. Certainly mine and your Dads. But it was also a changing moment in the relationship between Shadowhunters and Downworlders. We fought side by side. It was truly incredible.'

Alec's arm had slid entirely around Magnus' waist as he'd been talking. Rafe's perfect example of the two worlds unity. They'd always taught him unity was strength. Love was power, and alliance was always the answer.

He knew exactly what needed to be done. He smiled broadly, a determined glint in his eye.

'Are they busy tonight?' They know who he meant. 'Can you get them over in the next half hour? Uncle Simon, Aunt Clary, and Papa are especially important. Uhh, don't tell Jace and Izzy I said that. Or Grandma.'

Alec chuckled. 'Sure buddy, your secrets safe with us, I wouldn't wanna inflict that on anybody. We'll give them all a call now. But, uh, why?'

'I'll explain when they get here, just get calling it needs to happen soon-its important.'

And with that he was gone, flying off the bar stool into the office leaving his parents to share a confused look before dialing the phone.

Exactly thirty minutes later his whole family was assembled in the living room, Rafe sat crossed legged on the coffee table in the center. Magnus and Alec, Alec with a leg slung lazily across his husbands lap, next to each other on the sofa. Jace next to Alec, with his Aunt Clary on the arm of the chair one foot in Jace's lap, the other on Simon's shoulder. Who'd been forced to sit on the floor for arriving last. Aunt Izzy and his grandma sat on the armchairs either ends of the coffee table. The only one missing was Max. Everyone noticed. Rafe began.

'Okay, so you've all noticed our little buddy blueberry isn't here. In fact, he hasn't left our room since we got back from training today.'

Concern spread across each of their faces. Magnus took Alec's hand.

'That's because today someone hurt him, pretty badly. And I don't mean just physically, although that too.'

The concern melted into horror, and cold rage in all of them. Even Rafe felt the buds of it rising again in his stomach. It was Simon who spoke. Always his Uncle Simon to hold some composure. He was good like that.

'What exactly, did they do to him, Rafael?' His voice quiet, as if he didn't really want to hear. He imagined they probably didn't. They'd known Max since he was a baby, tiny and defenseless. That image still hadn't really gone away. Even now he was ten, and able to do magic it took Warlocks hundreds of years to master, he was the family baby.

'Well first of all Max beat this kid in a race, totally fair and square. We got told to use any ability we had, and well Max just happens to be able to teleport. Really they should have been more specific. But anyways. This kid was not happy about that, jealous if you ask me. His pride was hurt, badly. He storms over to Max and calls him a cheater. Then punches him.'

The atmosphere in the room said it all. Fury filled every member of his family, he felt bad telling them about it but they needed to know for this to make sense. He ignored the nauseating feeling rising in his throat as he remembered the rest. He continued.

'This kid is big, I'm talking my age, a head taller than Max and five years of ShadowHunter training literally written all over him. He's towering over Max and I can feel it, you feel his magic you know? That shit is strong-'

'Language Rafael. Just because you're fifteen doesn't mean the rules are off the table.' Cut in his Grandmother.

'Right, sorry. I go jogging over ready to fight this kid for squaring up my baby brother when he swings for him. Now we all know, me from experience, you don't swing at Max. In seconds he's across the room right into a wall.'

They share a glance between them all. The kind only a group of concerned adults can understand. Jace nods at Rafe, silently telling him to go on. Jace is never good at speaking when he's angry.

'Obviously, I'm turning to Max to calm him down when someones shoving me aside and catches Max off guard. He was looking at me, not focussing you know? He gets him. Right in the stomach.' Rafe's voice shakes a little as he continues.

'I'm seeing red. Max is barely recovering when I'm up.I-I broke his nose. You guys can punish me for that later, I don't care about a consequence. But now this kid is humiliated and in pain. A bad combination in a jackass.'

'I can't believe the trainers just let this happen.' Interrupts Maryse. Her voice stern, but the edges laced with anger.

'They weren't there, the kid picked the exact time an important Clave message came through so the trainer had to leave or something. But that isn't the actual bad part, not really anyways. He's yelling at me. A lot of swearing and cursing my family name which I was about to punch him again for-when he notices Max healing a little graze on my elbow from where he pushed me earlier. By the angel, Max is so soft. This kid says stuff that has totally destroyed Max okay. It's bad. I dunno if Papa is even gonna wanna hear it. That kinda stuff.'

Alec squeezes his hand Clary subconsciously looks down at Simon. So does his Aunt Izzy. They aren't stupid, they know the kind of stuff he means. Blue sparks are rising from his Papas other hand, a small burn mark forming in the arm of the chair. His Dads other hand is tapping hard against his thigh. He can see the anger in his Uncle's shoulders, both of them rigid all over. His Aunt Clarys eyebrows were knotted so tightly together it must have been hurting. His Aunt Izzy had an expression that could have killed, he imagined she was wishing it could.

'Its okay sweet pea. I've lived enough years to hear this.' Despite the usually soothing nickname, his Papas tone was ice cold.

Rafes own voice shook, a lump had risen in his throat. He was going to cry.

'He said 'I don't even know why this dirty warlock is even allowed in. He's half demon. Look at what he just did to me, he's dangerous. I guess you really can't tame half breed.' At this point, I'm screaming at him. Ready to rip into him, because Max apologises to plants he steps on and heals injured birds and sleeps in Batman pajamas.' At this point the tears are streaming down Rafes face, his hands shaking.

'He's not dangerous. He's so little he was just scared. Then he turns to me and says the worst part. 'I don't get why you're defending him. You're worse than that dad of yours. A few years ago you'd be hanging his horns on your mantlepiece as a prize. Why is he even part of your twisted little family? He can't even use a seraph blade. You've been tainted by the dirty demons in your house and your faggot of a dad. He then threw a blade at Max and taunted him because he cant use it and told him we'd never be really equal, no matter how brainwashed I was.' Rafe has said it all so fast he was out of breath, the front of his shirt wet with tears.

'Max broke one of his arms and both parts of his left leg. Blew up a light bulb then ran out the room. It took me twenty minutes to catch up with him. He was practically glowing purple he wouldn't let me touch him.'

Everyone in the room was stunned into silence. They'd all surpassed anger into full-blown rage.

'That's why I needed you all to come over. I'm gonna show him we've been equal since his tiny toddler hands made me a flower out of thin air. Aunt Clary, you can still draw that alliance rune right?'

Clary took a moment to compose herself, wiping a tear and sitting up a little straighter and pulling her mouth into a smile.

'Yeah Rafe, I can.'

'Perfect. I'll go get him.'

Outside their bedroom door, Rafe could feel the ice cold sadness of Max's magic. He loved his brother more than anyone, feeling his sadness broke his heart.

'Blueberry,hermano. I've got something to give you. Everyone's here, well because they all care Maxy. You've just gotta come into the living room.' He whispered through the gap under the door.

After a moment the door opened, revealing a tear stain Max. His blue cheeks burning a bright red, Rafe only ever saw them do that when he laughed too hard. He swore they never be red from tears as long as he lived. His blue eyes puffy, curly hair scruffy and disheveled from having a pillow over his head. He hadn't even gotten changed out of his clothes, one trouser leg bunched up around his knee.

'Okay.' Was all he said, barely a whisper. He trailed behind Rafe into the living room.

Concerned eyes follow them both as Rafe goes back to the coffee table. He moves over and gestures for Max to sit next to him. He refuses. Max won't meet any of there eyes. Not even Simons. Max always favoured Simon a little, he could see the heartbreak on his uncles face.

Suddenly Rafe was angry. Angry someone had made his brother feel he didn't deserve to be with his own family Anger Max had believed him.

'Maxy, sit next to me.' He patted the spot next to him again and smiled up at him. 'Come on buddy.'

Max sat on the edge of the table looking down at his Star Wars socks. A gift from Simon the birthday after they'd watched them all together. Max looked like he was about to start burning them off. His parents were holding each others hands so tight their knuckles were white. His Papa looked close to tears but he was wearing his unglamoured eyes- a statement.

'Okay, Aunt Clary lets go.' Rafe stated a cold determination in his tone.

She drew the rune on a piece of paper, it flowing perfectly from her hand.

Rafe took the piece of paper and began copying the rune onto the palm of his hand.

'Turn and face me.' Max did, still not looking up keeping a distance between their knees. Rafe moved forward so they were touching and placed his palm over Max's heart.

'Now you listen to me, Maxwell. You're sat in the middle of a group of people who found a baby, who was bright blue and didn't even consider you being anywhere but with them. They gave you the name Max as a gift. You have a better heart and soul then many a shadowhunter, you can do way more than any of us ever could. So quit crying. And give me your hand.' Rafe smiled as his brother finally met his gaze and placed his hand palm up in his hand.

Rafe traced the rune.

A surge of magic flooded through his system and he almost fell off the table. But something had caught him. His own palm was holding him up, three inches off the ground.

'Now that. Is awesome' Rafe laughed, sat up and looked at his brother.

He handed him a witchlight.

Max hesitated for a moment, he closed his hand around the stone. He'd try this a few times before, the stone always remained cold and blank in his hand. When he opened his palm the stone was alight with a bright light, tinted slightly purple. His face lit up almost as bright as the stone in his hand, and suddenly the tension in the room snapped and everyone jumped and cheered.

'Equal, hermano.' Whispered Rafe, so only his brother could hear.

'Equal, brother.' Max beamed back, the light behind his eyes was enough thanks for Rafe.

The next day when the boys were training together, testing their new found skills Max noticed him coming. Rafe felt the spike in magic as he entered the training room-coming straight for Max.

'Haven't learned your lesson yet warlock?' He sneered.

'Let me make it clear. You can't use our weapons or our runes. So why are you even here?' He dangled a seraph blade in front of Max's face and laughed.

Max took it from him, smiled and lit it up.

Rafe had never been prouder, and when they walked home Max was practically dancing down the street in joy.

That night all the family were over for dinner, Max smiled the entire time.

24 notes · View notes

alt-ernativewonderland · 6 years

Text

Make You Smile

Harrison Osterfield x Reader One Shot

Warnings: Swearing + An abundance of Fluff and Banter + Secondhand embarrassment perhaps? Probably some very shitty writing?

It was a lazy fall Sunday afternoon, soon to be evening and because it had looked rather dreary outside this morning (not very unusual for London, of course) you and your housemate Tom had decided to stay in and play Mario Kart all morning in your Pj's feasting on Jaffa cakes and day old pizza.

However by the time noon had just about rolled around your partner in crime (or Mario Kart more accurately speaking) had received an urgent call from his agent requesting his presence immediately for a last minute rescheduled call back for a new film he had been in the process or auditioning for.

Tom felt a little bad leaving you during your Mario marathon so around 15 minutes after he had left, a knock at the door and a familiar hoodie clad face had popped in moments later, seating himself down next to you, taking up a controller for himself.

Tom's best friend. The gorgeous Harrison. Who you may or may not be a little helplessly in love with. Those damned eyes. Could you be blamed? Tom of course suspected something straight off and had been trying to get you to admit it ever since, giving you shit about it every. Single. Day.

"Alright? Tom called, told me you might need a friend he'd said, making himself comfortable and switching Tom's Mario Character for his choice Luigi instead.

This is how it had started out. Now? Now it was all out war.

"You better watch out princess look who's catching up" Harrison taunts.

"Good come a little closer so you can taste this banana i'm about to throw at your stupid green hat"

You fire back aiming the fruit behind you. It hits him dead on sending his cart spinning off the to side of the track, he yells out an obscenity in protest.

"You're in first now but don't get too comfortable you're about to get wrecked with blue shells just wait." He laughs managing to speed back into third place rather quickly.

"Meh me meung meh meh" You mimic back under your breath.

Suddenly the grin etched on your face is wiped clean when your screen goes black from the predicted blue shell.

"NoOoOo you fuck- stupid- fucking- shhhghaarrghh!!!!!!"

"Language, darling Peach that's not very royal of you" He chuckles.

"Shut it you, I can still win this, if you stop trying to distract me with your stupid retorts"

"If you can't bant and play at the same time what even is the point? Also careful what you say there peachy look who's in first" Harrison says grinning while poking a finger at your side.

"Well then who has to watch out for blue shells now huh!" You think up (a little weakly) tingling from the ticklish contact.

You didn't have any blue shells or any sort of random items actually so you decided to play a little dirty instead, palming his face and shoving him off to the side effectively tipping him over, off the lounge and onto the carpeted floor.

"Oi that's cheating you can't do that!"

"All's fair in Mario kart and war my friend" You say as you race toward the finish line, crossing it seconds later.

Immediately you leap from the couch jumping up and down like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"YEEESSS I am the queen of Mario Kart in your FACE Osterfield!" You cackle delightedly down at his hunched over form as he still sits upon the floor, dejected puppy dog expression and all.

Your cheeks are a little warm from all the excitement. And perhaps his adorably put out expression.

"You're princess Peach not queen Peach and whatever you cheated AND anyway we were playing on 150cc that's too fast it wasn't a fair game!"

"Oooooh that's right blame the speed and my genius tactics for your epic 5th loss in a row! Or is it 6th now? I've honestly lost count" You tease him, still giggling a little, sitting back down on the lounge for the next round.

"I'll show you a genius tactic!"

Suddenly he launches himself towards you from the floor, sprawling himself on your lap and tickling mercilessly at your sides.

"Stop! Stop! Please - oh my god Harrison, Harrison please stop I can't - stop - I cant breathe!" You scream at the top of your lungs gasping, laughing uncontrollably at his preferred method of payback.

"This - is what you get - when you play dirty and cheat - to - win!" He says a little out of breath from the effort of holding you down and dodging your pathetic attempts of attack and defence.

"Okay okay okay I'm sorry, I'm sorry please just please okay-"

"Have you had enough yet?"

"YES Harrison PLEASE stop it oh my god" You beg, giggling uncontrollably still.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you love"

You could just hear the smirk in his voice, your sight of him effectively lost from the tears of laughter streaming down your face"

"I'M SORRY for shoving you okay truce truce, I surrender! I'm going to die, seriously!"

He laughs a little through tears of his own as he replies "I don't think it's actually possible to die from being tickled but I think you've learned your lesson."

He let's up on the tickling as you clutch your sides protectively, trying to get your breath back.

Although after peaking your eyes open a little, any chance of this is immediately tossed out of the window as you take in his disheveled appearance.

He was wearing that classic angel faced smile that instantly turned into a devilish grin when his starry eyes met your tear filled ones. His sandy blonde curls were sticking up in all directions and his cheeks were flushed from all the exertion. He was absolutely stunning.

Suddenly you both became very aware of the position you were in. He was still sitting firmly in your lap, hands resting gently on the skin of your exposed stomach where your shirt had ridden up a little in all the commotion.

Harrison bit his lip a little as he took you in. You desperately wondered what he could be thinking as your breath hitched a little at the quick flash of his tongue darting over soft pink lips.

The sound of shoes shuffling at the doormat shattered the tense atmosphere, the squeak of the old front door swinging open had you both scrambling to opposite sides of the lounge seconds after. Tom came rushing in to the room.

"Y/n, Y/N! You would not believe - my agent Karen, and-" He stopped as he took in the scene in front of him

"What's...going on here? Harrison I thought you'd have left by now by now mate you do realise it's almost six, yeah?" Tom grinned at the two of you, shooting a knowing look your way.

"We were - we were just playing Mario Kart...still" He cleared his throat a little, reaching for a discarded controller and clutching it upside down in his haste.

"Right-o then if you say so." Tom scoffed, taking the spot on the lounge between Harrison and yourself and winking at your eye roll of a response.

"Are you sure H because you look a little winded there and your face is-" Tom started up again.

"What were you saying about your agent Karen? Thomas?" You piped up, noticing Harrison's embarrassment and glaring at the doe eyed boy beside you.

"Oh yeah! She managed to convince the casting agents to give me a second shot at callbacks because I missed mine from that nasty flu Harrison gave me and the director was so impressed with my 3rd audition that he invited us all out to lunch to get to know ME better because he really wants me to be chosen for the part! He thinks I was born to play Spider man can you believe?"

"No way man! That's incredible!" Harrison exclaimed high fiving his best friend and giving him a few congratulatory pats on the arm.

"I'm so proud of you Tom, honestly, you've worked so hard and you truly deserve this so much! You've been dreaming about this role since we were kids" Your face lights up and you offer a genuinely proud smile toward your best friend of 10 years reaching for a warm hug.

"Thanks guys, I really appreciate it. He mumbles back a little sheepishly into the crook of your neck.

"Well then, I guess this calls for a bit a celebration right? What's say I make some of my world class pasta for dinner tonight?" Harrison stands from the lounge, stretching languidly and heading towards the doorway to put his shoes on.

"Anybody need anything from the shops?"

"I'm good thanks" You reply back, rising from the lounge yourself to stretch.

You don't notice Harrison pausing in tying his shoelaces as you do so, fixated on your movements. Tom raising his eyebrows at him suggestively, then rolling them soon afterwards when his friend is brought out of his daze by his voice.

"Grab me a cornetto would you mate?" He grins, eyes twinkling at his friends dopey expression, reaching for his wallet.

"Nah mate don't even think about it, dinner and desserts on me; So parsley and basil for the pasta, cornetto for Tom aaaand Oreos for Y/n,"

He flips his hoodie up as he prepares to head out into the evening fall breeze.

"Hey I never said I wanted Oreos!" You call out to him, confused.

"Well yeah but I know you want them and even if you say you don't you'll change your mind, like always." He grins knowingly at your squinted eyes and crossed arms.

He heads out and its quiet for a moment, Mario Kart music still playing distantly on the TV.

"So" Tom's accusatory tone follows.

"What." You reply absently still facing the front door.

"What happened while I was out charming my future production team?" He picks up Harrison's discarded controller and flicks the character back over to Mario.

"Erm. Nothing. What? Nothing we were literally playing Mario Kart until you got back that's it." You respond hastily, plonking yourself back down on the lounge, grabbing the other controller and starting a new game.

"Are you sure about that? Because it kind of seemed like I walked in on something a little more than that." He smirked, instantly making it into first place with ease.

"I really have no clue what you could possibly mean." You bite your lip thinking back to just a few moments ago when Harrison had had you practically pinned beneath him, his face flushed and breathless.

"Oh come off it you've been completely infatuated with him for like 6 years now don't even TRY to deny it Y/n." He chuckles shoving playfully at your shoulder trying to distract you from the game but the conversation in itself was distracting enough.

"You know I can here sounds coming from that frog mouth of yours Holland, but all they're saying is 'I'm gonna lose spectacularly'" You shove back, deflecting the attention back to the game at hand, aiming a red shell his way.

He swerves just in time and dodges it

"Damn your expert reflexes" You mumble, not 100 percent paying attention to the game in the first place anyway.

Too preoccupied by memories wayward curls over starry blue eyes and soft smiles.

"I prefer Spidey senses"

"Calm down you dork you haven't got the part quite yet"

"Just you wait when I do and I start getting more and more followers on Instagram I'm going to post it all over my story for my 1 million followers to see; 'Y/N LOVES HARRSION OSTERF-'" Suddenly he has a face full of pillow as you prepare to throw another.

"Shut UP Thomas! Oh my god like you would even GET a million followers in the first place you fucking div" You don't even throw the next pillow at him this time, electing to just pummel him with it for a while until you hear a muffled "Okay okay I'll stop I'll stop I'm sorry don't kill me" As he continues laughing, running his fingers through his frazzled hair the game effectively forgotten.

You sigh as you give up your pillow attack, placing the pillow behind you and resting your head against it with a deep defeated sigh.

You sit in comfortable silence for a moment, both listening to the ever playing Mario Kart theme and taking note of the sudden rainfall that must have just started to during your miniature conflict.

"Okay but I'd just like to reminisce something to you for a moment here." Tom speaks up after the pause in commotion. "Remember when we were kids, and I brought H to your birthday party so you could meet him and I got you that new Sims 2 Pets game?"

"Yeah...?" Suspicious eyes peered over at the boy, wondering where on earth he was going with this.

"Not two weeks after that you'd already made sim versions of the two of you and were planning the wedding, which from the screenshots I vacantly remember browsing through looked to be a beautiful ceremony I might add." He snickered, already scooting away from you and grabbing a nearby pillow off the loveseat, bracing for another attack.

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep tonight, and might III add that I was like eleven when that happened! And I made you too!" You threw the pillow you'd been resting your head on in his direction regardless of his makeshift pillow shield, groaning at the memory and covering your now very warm cheeks.

"I WAS THE DOG YOU GUYS ADOPTED AFTER YOU'D MOVED IN TOGETHER!" His exasperated tone turning into gasps of laughter when he saw your grin peaking out from behind embarrassed hands.

"At least you were a golden retriever puppy! That's a super cute dog! I could have made you as a hairless cat with huge disfigured eyes or something equally strange and disturbing."

"Something equally strange and disturbing is the title of yours and Osterfield's Sims 2 honeymoon sex tape." He clapped back, already on his feet and sprinting off towards the kitchen.

"I hate you!" You called out to him getting to your feet and following the object of said hatred to make yourself some tea.

"You only hate the fact that I right." He taunted back sticking his tongue out at your less than impressed expression at his childish antics.

"Alright fine maybe I did have a sort of small crush or something when we were younger but it's in the past!" You give in finally, absently fiddling with the tab of the tea bag in your Pusheen cat mug. "Besides he never liked me back anyway." You mumbled the last sentence a little under your breath, concentrating on making the baggy bob up and down repeatedly in the steaming water.

"That's not true!" Tom blurted out, smacking a hand over his lips a moment later silently cursing his big mouth.

This was a secret Harrison swore him never to tell, he'd even pinkie promised.

Even if it was a secret from six years ago.

He couldn't help it though, after all this time you finally had said it clear as day, right in front of him!

"What do you mean it's not true? Thomas what aren't you telling me?"

You look up at his sudden admission, squinting your eyes to gauge his current demeanour as your heart rate inexplicably picked up. You watch as he shuffles nervously scratching at the back of his neck, not looking at you and busying himself with his own mug of tea.

"I mean, I'm just saying there was that one time you got really sick during the summer holidays before high school started and he brought Monty around to cheer you up."

"Oh I remember that! He said puppies could help cure anything so he stayed as long as he could to make sure I'd get the full effect even though I couldn't leave my bed." You smiled fondly at the memory, and how Harrison had also brought over your favourite chocolate chip cookies to double the efforts in making you feel better.

"Also when you lost your ring that day we played football in the park and he REFUSED to leave until it was found even after the sun had set and he only had his shitty phone screen light."

You shifted the heart shaped signet ring on your finger, remembering when Harrison's meticulous search had paid off almost 2 hours after you had initially lost the gold band and how Tom had made some cheesy remark when Harrison slipped it back onto your finger.

You were so delighted he'd found it that in your overwhelming excitement you'd thrown your arms around his neck in a tight hug and placed a kiss on his cheek, both of your faces tinted pink the whole walk home afterwards.

"Thanks by the way he would not shut up about that damned kiss for two months afterwards!" He chuckled, noticing your faint blush reappearing at the memory.

There was a pause as you collected your thoughts, sipping your tea silently while processing the memories and trying to connect any dots you may have missed from the past that may or may not be JUST In history, but perhaps also in the present.

"You know he only pretends to be bad at Mario Kart so he can watch you get all giddy and excited at beating him." Tom adds after a while, biting his lip after perhaps spilling a little too much information.

It was one thing to let slip that Harrison liked you years ago but it was another to hint at the fact that he possibly still did, and didn't want you to know about it.

"Okay that’s not true I'm great at Mario Kart!" You roll your eyes scoffing at his accusation.

"You suck at Mario Kart, why do you think I always beat you? And where do you think I learned all my skills from hm?" He raised his eyebrows at you, smirking at your slightly bewildered expression at all these new developments.

You didn't get a chance to rebut his claim because just as you opened your mouth footsteps came in quick succession up the front steps and the door swung open to reveal a very heavily rain soaked Harrison, shaking out his dripping wet curls in dog like fashion after slipping of his hood.

"Man it's raining cats and dogs out there!" He chimed in a faux American accent, slipping off his shoes and setting the groceries down on the kitchen counter.

"Just my luck, started up right as I stepped out of the shop." He continued when neither of you said anything at his return glancing between the two of you still standing a little ways from each other in the kitchen, your cheeks still tinged pink.

He pulled the uncomfortable hoodie from over his head, the t-shirt underneath sticking to it also and being pulled off with it letting out a sigh as he balled up the wet garments in his hand, still not entirely sure about the strange atmosphere he'd entered into.

"Have I missed something?" He questioned with a raised brow when STILL neither of you said anything and all you could do was fixate on the little droplets of water dripping periodically from Harrison's curls, making their way through the crevices of his glorious torso.

Tom snickered at your lingering gaze shaking his head as he finished off the last of his tea.

Harrison set his wet clothes down on the dining table and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes still shifting between the two of you curiously.

"Do you let me win at Mario kart?!" You blurted out when the silence started getting a little too thick.

"Really? That's the thing you choose to address first?" Tom laughed, rinsing his panda mug and shuffling past the two daft idiots standing in the kitchen staring at each other.

"What are you on about?" Harrison's perplexed tone answered back, glancing back at Tom's retreating form.

"Listen mate, this day has been a long time coming and you KNOW I suck at keeping secrets but might I just say I think I did a pretty good job considering I didn't breathe a word for six bloody years!"

Tom grabbed a towel from the linen cupboard and darted into the bathroom, head re-emerging a moment later from behind the door frame with a: "You'll thank me later for my big mouth!"

The water from the shower started up a moment after Tom closed the door and suddenly it was just you and a very shirtless Harrison left standing a little awkwardly together in the small kitchen area.

It felt even smaller when we was stood there looking like THAT.

Harrison's eyes met yours for a beat but you looked away, concentrating once more on the wayward water droplets traversing his skin, unable to look him in the eye.

"What's going on?" He murmured softly, trying to decide whether he should move towards you or keep his place in the door-frame.

"Tom, erm - Tom said, that you let me win at Mario Kart all the time and that you suck on purpose." You replied in a small voice, finally peering up at him through your lashes.

"I - I mean...maybe a little bit, sometimes?" He stuttered out, running a hand through the loose curls fallen on his forehead and biting his lip a little, bashful.

He was making it really difficult for you not to just kiss him right then and there.

"What else were you discussing before I interrupted? What did he mean by 'This has been a long time coming'?"

"Did you want some tea? You look awfully cold you should probably change into some dryer clothes." You grabbed Harrison's Avengers mug from the top cupboard and made your way back over to the kettle trying in vain to distract the confused object of your affections.

"No no no no no come on Y/n don't try to change the subject." He moved towards you, switching the kettle back off before it could make too much noise, taking a seat on the counter to face you, waiting patiently.

"Would you at least put a shirt on you're making ME cold just looking at you." You hug your arms around your middle, feeling self conscious and picking at stray pills of your jumper.

"Why am I distracting you?" He chuckled, throwing a cheeky wink your way and sitting up straight, tensing his muscles.

He was just joking but he couldn't help notice the slight tinge of colour gracing your cheek and the way your teeth gnawed unforgiving on your bottom lip.

This isn't fair. He should be the one feeling self conscious or a little nervous being half dressed and what not in front of you like this.

"Tom thinks - he told me that you used to like me." You let out, finally setting your eyes to his and not looking away. There. That should make him squirm a little, hopefully.

Harrison's face flushed as he was the one to avert his eyes this time, the back of his neck suddenly feeling very warm despite the cool raindrops still gracing his skin.

"You never said anything." You continued, carefully observing his now shifting form.

"Yeah well I - erm, I just always thought you might have seen me as a sort of brother you know, you - being friends with Tom first and all I didn't want to get in the way or make anything awkward."

"A brother?! God no Harrison I never ever thought of you that way Tom's always been like a big brother to me but y-you were the -"

"- The what?" He looked up hopefully, the crease in his brow still evident.

"The...’Cute best friend’?" You finished in a small voice, turning away to rinse your mug and making a beeline for the doorway, heading to the living room to tidy up all the stray pillows off the floor.

Harrison's face lit up into a huge shit eating grin heart beating wildly as he hopped off the counter, heading over to where you were very obviously pretending he wasn't an arms length away from you.

"Am I still?" He teased, taking a pillow from your hand and holding it up high out if your reach.

"Hm?" You offer in lieu of a response, playing dumb and reaching for the pillow but stumbling a little on your tip toes.

You swallow audibly after your hand pressed into his chest accidentally as he looks down at you catching your lower back to steady you.

"Am I still the ‘cute best friend’?" He whispers, grinning down at your shy form and tilting your chin up to look you in the eye.

"Cute...and....impossibly annoying." You finish, making a grab for the pillow after his hand had fallen a little in his distraction.

Suddenly you walloped him in the face with it laughing at his gobsmacked expression, trying to distract your thumping heart and nerves.

Harrison wasn't having it though so he grabbed the wet ball of clothes off the dining table from earlier and slowly crept towards you as you waited for the inevitable

"Don't you dare!" You pointed a finger at him menacingly with nowhere to escape to.

He captured you in a tight hug wrapping the wet hoodie around your frame and laughing gleefully at your yelps and small slaps of protest.

Resistance was futile though so you gave up with a sigh and rested your head against his chest listening to his heart rate pick up a little bit before he said his next words.

"You were the cute best friend for me too." He admitted, glancing down to your lips mere centimetres away.

"Am I still?" You mimicked his words from earlier unable to stop the corners of your mouth pulling into a wide smile.

He didn't answer, instead leaning down to press a swift kiss to you lips after you sucked in a quick breath.

"Does that answer your question?" He murmured, his eyes twinkling and a very pleased expression gracing his soft features.

"Hmm I'm not sure perhaps you should try-"

He cut off your witty remark, capturing your lips once more and this time you melted into the kiss all banter quickly vanishing from your thoughts as you reached up to play with his still wet curls, feeling the hoodie slip from his grip onto the floor so he could press you closer.

God you had waited far too long to do this you thought as he swiped his tongue along your lower lip, allowing the kiss to turn deeper.

You moaned a little as his tongue swiped over your own, the hand that wasn't toying with his damp locks tracing the definition of his toned stomach, fanning the fire that had started long go inside your chest.

"Still distracting you?" He murmured as he pulled away, his lips still brushing against your own as he spoke and a devilish smirk forming as his own hand found its way atop yours, pressing into his stomach.

"You're always distracting me." You continue pressing soft kisses to his lips unable to stop now that you knew what they felt like against your own.

"Is that so?" He chuckled, his hand on your back slipping underneath your jumper to feel the warmth of the skin beneath.

You sighed as you felt his fingers press firmly into you, his hand moving from the skin of your back to your hip as he continued to kiss you like his life depended on it.

A small gasp and a soft ‘ugh‘ fell from his lips as you raked your fingernails down his chest reveling in the feeling of being completely wrapped up in him.

The sound of a throat clearing somewhere in the distance brought you both out of your haze, bursting the bubble that had formed around you both.

You pulled away from each other at the noise and turned your heads toward the bathroom door, where Tom stood in clean pyjamas, toweling off his damp curls and giving you both the biggest self satisfied smirk you had ever seen on his boyish features.

"Oh man this is like the Sims 2 Pets all over again." Tom laughed, directing his shit eating grin to you as you buried your blushing face into Harrison's still gloriously bare chest.

Harrison sent a questioning look to Tom and then back down to you, confused as ever but laughing none the less at your sudden embarrassment, pressing his lips to your forehead then your warm cheek and finally back down to your lips, not a care in the world that Tom was now in the room.

"You're welcome!" Tom muttered under his breath, shaking his head at the admittedly adorable pair of divs in front of him.

Author’s Notes:

So there you go! Wow this is I think the first piece of writing i’ve actually started and compelted in literal years and I can’t believe it’s fanfiction between a real person and the reader but i’m gonna take it cause i’m a little proud of myself right now for accomplishing this one small thing. Anywho I hope you enjoyed this drabble turned very long One Shot and if i tagged you it’s ‘cause you liked or reblogged my original post/sneak preview of this fic! :)

@sleepwalkingdragon @hollandfieldluv @miraculousparker @would-you-tell-me-who-you-are @imwearingtomholland @soloriormora @kindbearqueen @claredolphinbear24 @ducky2542 @creativexdreamer @nachochitz @letstravelsunshine @the-divine-fxminine

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield twitter #harrison osterfield instagram #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield one shot #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield drabble #harrison osterfild x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fanfiction #tom holland #spiderman #chaos walking #hollanders #quacksons #catch 22 #avengers infinity war

131 notes · View notes

thrallsnpuppets · 5 years

Text

Ramble

One of the stranger (but relevant) thoughts i have had within the last couple weeks pertains to my birth country, the US.

In the next few years, my husband and i may be given the opportunity to one day move countries for his work. To me this is great.

My husband is a humble, born and bred, small town Texan with an extreme work ethic and homebody life preferences so the prospect of picking up everything and moving thousands of miles away to an unknown land filled with unknown possibly hostile people is terrifying. He literally lives about 50 miles from where he was born and raised and has never been without his immediate family. And contrary to his upbringing, hes decently progressive.

I live in Texas with him. However, I was born 2000 miles away in California. Those of you who are unfmailiar with the states and the culture, crossing state lines is both changing climate and time zone. If we can rightly agree that countries like Portugal and Spain have their differences than we can agree that Texans and Californians have a butt load of cultural differences as well.

One thing that is consistent is the the conditioned sense of Nationalism on both a federal and state level. Both CA and TX like lording their superiority as a state over the other and will bail out on any accountability when it comes to federal matters.

So, encroaching on that mentality that was only spun off different due to dialect has given me a decent understanding of what i could expect in culture shock when moving.

There is a marginal language barrier between Texas and California most pertaining to the specifics of slang and grammatical usage. (I went to speech class as a child due to health issues so i sound odd in both states.) When californians get worked up their words are replaced with expressions that i can equate to real life emojis that are just over the top comical in many situations. Where as a worked up texan loses any sort of hard consonants and theybextend their vowels to the point of running their sentences into one great grumbly affectation that can be about as intimidating as a hackles-up cattle dog. Watching californians argue with texans over Facebook pales to what it looks like real life. The californians are dancing around making expressions and exaggerated movements while the texans stick their chin out with a snarl hanging on their sunburnt and chapped lips. (My mom is from New Jersey, throw a new jersian in with the two mentioned and both the Texan and the Californian clam up momentarily. Californians are loud but like a song bird. Texans are quiet like a resting steam engine. New Jersians... They have all the fan fare and volume of a crowded stadium.)

I greatly digressed. I was only trying to highlight differences in state to state culture and got wrapped up in my own imagery.

Point is, there are major differences and not just in dialect and composure. If anyone has been paying attention to politics, youd know that the states can be very outspoken about their epitomized policies.

I havent been out of the country (would love to if warfare isnt eminent) and these opportunities i will be given has given me time to consider that. My husbands job owns places around the world so i have quite a bit of locations to think about.

I have always wanted to tour so many countries in both hemispheres but i haven't ever thought about residency.

So, i have been bouncing these ideas and potential opportunities off some of my family members and friends. Somenof my friends love the idea of getting that opportunity and would jump at the chance of leaving their bumpkin texas hometown to find themselves on foreign coasts (except the combat vets. Most are happy to be home). While some of the older people have their very nation oriented opinions.

My mom (a moderate and conspiracy theorist from new jersey) wants to move with me if i end up in places like Germany or New Zealand or France or Ireland. My mother in law (avid trump supporter and die hard texan) has an axe to grind against most of the world.

Ive always wanted to see Germany, ireland, italy, places in east europe ya know, lands of my ancestry. And perhaps to get away from the Nationalistic ideals of the United States. I went to a private school up until about middle school and grew up with out having to recite the pledge of allegiance or honoring the national anthem. (I Was startled when everyone stood at once for the pledge of allegiance when i transferred to a public school) So my sense of nation is askewed and find myself speaking against the bipartisan policies and many legislatures much to my inlaws and extended family's chagrin.

If you have ever met a Trump supporter, then you understand that their sense of nationalism is the strongest (not in a good way). They Are the ones that say, "this is our country. This is our flag. This is our president. Deal with it." But they are also offended when you mention moving countries to not be a resident of the US (especially if you just mutter about Germany lol). Which makes no sense to me but they (and current politics or regimes) make barely any sense most of the time anyways. To me anyways...

Arent they the ones that scream at an immigrant to go back to their own country if they dont like the US? Rhetorical; answer is yes always.

I dont understand why I was attacked for relating to the sentiment of picking up everything and leaving the country in pursuit of a fruitful and fulfilling life even if is thousands of miles away.

I have done it before. Not changing countries... But I have bust through state lines with bare minimal possessions escaping what i experienced in my home state to find happiness in another. I have encountered extreme hostility just for being from one of 'those' states in the great state of Texas. I already have moved thousands of miles from everything i knew to be in an unfamiliar land amongst possibly hostile people.

Why cant i, again, say i dont like it here im going somewhere else? (Other than finances and unavailable opportunity at the moment) Why cant i move again? Else where? Far away?

I have never anticipated encountering such animosity for these desires until recently when nationalism became the predominant mindset of the people. Before that, i remember expressing my desire to see the world and being praised for having worldly aspirations.

Turns out, not many people (texan or californian or new jersian) like it when you say i dont like [state, US, politician, policy, etc.] So im leaving/supporting another. I know it seems blatant but i guess I was just naive.

Isnt leaving what you told me i should do if I don't like how it is? I want to be able to contribute to something and experience opportunity in a place that would allow for it and have the resources to maintain these solutions and goals.

Im not saying it is in any one place in particular im just saying it doesn't seem like its here where i am now. A bad situation. I will probably get the opportunity for improvement in the next coming years.

But im a "white american". Does this make a difference in my immigration status? In my residencies? In my opinions? In other people's opinions? Yes, it seems so...

Its why i cant blame people for leaving their homes and travelling thousands of miles away to find a better opportunity for themselves and their family.

I would jump at the chance too.

Go ahead. Call me names. I already get torn at for carrying sympathy for those who desire to leave and improve their lives. I share the same desires even if the reasons differ greatly.

#personal #world #politics #policies #immigration #immigrants #cant blame them #job opportunities #building a life #pursuing happiness #pursuingideals #pursuingmydreams #toxic #toxic people #toxic environment

3 notes · View notes

sulevinblade · 6 years

Note

(Talesfromthefade) things you said when you were drunk, for the DWC?

OH MY GOD this was a little idea that got away from me in a big big way but I’m still pretty happy with it. For this and for “cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love,” from @contreparry! For @dadrunkwriting!!

Alistair/Leohta Aeducan, T for language, dumb suggestive jokes, and alcohol use, 4k+ words (awaaaay from me, I wish I had time to edit it but uh I spent the entire time writing it instead).

On the cusp of the party’s visit to Orzammar, Alistair learns what kind of drunk Leohta can be, and shares a little lesson of his own. Light angst, serious fluff.

He finds her standing on the rocky beach, well away from the dim glow provided by the Spoiled Princess’s small windows. It takes a moment for Alistair’s eyes to adjust to the complete dark–the night watch Templar doused all the torches at the dock, as clear an indication as anything that no one else would cross Lake Calenhad tonight–but even if he’d had to follow her blind he could’ve found her by the sound.

Bloop.

Normally finding Leohta by sound means the clank or grind of armour, the grunts or barks of Leon, or even her rare laughter at something Zevran said (it was always Zevran making her laugh), but tonight the sound is completely unfamiliar. It’s still enough to guide him, though.

Bloop.

Last he’d seen her, she was swapping some of the coin they’d made selling things to the Templar quartermaster for three large bottles of deep pink liquid. It seemed a bit of a racket to Alistair, that they should collect the mages’ items as they cleared the Tower only to sell them to the Templars who would then in turn sell them back to the Mages, but surely if that wasn’t how the economy of the Circle usually worked, Wynne would’ve said something. That was Alistair’s hope, anyway, as he’d watched Leohta count the coins before they left, then again at the tavern’s bar. She’d tossed the bag back to him before collecting the bottles and heading outside, and he in turn had left it with Zevran.

Bloop.

“You have known our illustrious leader the longest among any of us. Has this always been a habit of hers?” Alistair squinted across the table, trying to determine Zevran’s game, but succeeded only in giving up his own. “You think I see this as a weakness I can exploit, but I would think even you would see that if I were going to do so, I would have done it by now and certainly would not draw attention to my plans by involving you.” His eyes only narrowed further–how does Zevran make talking down to him still seem so seductive?–but Alistair did sit back in his chair.

“I haven’t known her all that long, really, but I don’t think so. Why d'you ask?”

“My Antiva makes the finest wines in Thedas, so it is not uncommon to see those there who overindulge, but there are many types. Leohta, she is young and exploring her limits, yes, but she is also trying to drown things she does not want to feel. Her limits are low and the things she seeks to kill are very large. It is a dangerous combination.”

Alistair glanced again toward the door. Of course she hadn’t come back inside, that’d be too much to ask for, but what was he supposed to do?

“If it is too much for you, I will go after her, but she should not be alone.” Both of their chairs scraped back at the same time but Alistair was the first to stand, something that for some reason brought a sad smile to Zevran’s face. Alistair could only look at it for a moment before looking away. "I know you do not think much of me, Alistair, and while that is entirely your loss, I do know that one thing we have in common is how much we care for her. Go see to her, my friend, before her sorrows are not all she drowns. It is probably for the best; I am not much of a swimmer myself.“

Bloop.

So now here he is, approaching carefully, pretending to be taking in the constellations while Leohta hurls rocks at the water like she’s trying to knock the waves down before they can reach the shore. The night is perfectly clear; Kinloch Hold is merely a dark space in the sky where the stars are missing, but everything else is black sky and white twinkles. He clears his throat in case she somehow hasn’t noticed since he doesn’t fancy getting one of those stones thrown at him, but she only pauses for a moment before bending to search the area around her feet for another suitable candidate. One bottle is already empty, stuffed mouth down among the pebbles and into the sand underneath them, and as Alistair finishes closing the distance Leohta gives up her search and instead tips to land on her backside, legs out in front of her and a second bottle in her hand. He knows they’re not small but her stature makes them seem even larger; it makes the sight of her lifting one to her lips almost comical but the effect is spoiled by how long it stays there. Maker’s breath, Zevran was right when he talked about drowning.

"You planning on coming up for air any time soon?”

There’s a pop as she breaks the vacuum she’s created, then a dry laugh. She still isn’t looking at him. It makes his chest hurt, how badly he wants her to turn her head. “Breathe through your nose and you can use your mouth for whatever you want.”

“You’re spending too much time with Zevran, saying things like that.” Sighing, Alistair drops down crosslegged at her side and extends a hand. “What are you even drinking? I’ve never seen anything that color in a tavern before.”

“One of the Templars told me about it. I guess–” there’s a pause and she bunches up her eyebrows, apparently trying to put the pieces back together, “I guess the mother started making it as a tribute to her daughter and now of course it’s all very sad but the owner still makes it as a specialty. Sweet mead made with roses.” She passes over the open bottle, not bothering to wipe the top, and the expression on her face, like she’s sharing a secret, distracts him so much he can’t be bothered either. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was sweet but the roses are strong too, floral and delicate. He passes the bottle back after just one mouthful.

“I’ve never had a mead like that before. It’s very… different.” Leohta seems to accept that answer, nodding before lifting the bottle to her lips again.

“There’s nothing like this in Orzammar. Not even in the palace. Not even to make it. No honey, no roses, and when there is if you said you wanted to make something like this with it, you’d be laughed out of the kitchen.” She holds the bottle in front of her contemplatively, swishing the contents back and forth gently and tilting her head in time with the motion. Alistair’d almost think it was a contented sort of gesture but then she sighs and drops her head back, hair falling over her shoulders as she lifts the bottle skyward. “Nothing like that, either. No stars, no sky. Some of the caverns are so high the ceilings are invisible, but you still know they’re up there.” Slowly, she lowers the bottle but keeps her gaze fixed upward.

“Do you miss that?” It’s not something he’s given a lot of thought to but it’s hard to imagine. Even within the walls of the Chantry there were windows. The sky was always there, or not-there maybe, when compared to a ceiling of stone. Trying to imagine life without it or everything it held–the sun, the moons, the clouds and stars and birds–was virtually impossible, but here was Leohta not just imagining the opposite but living it.

“Dunno. I still don’t understand all this. What keeps it up there?” Her hand waves up at the stars but only briefly; even sitting down she’s unsteady without both hands to support her. “With the stone, you know that even if you can’t see the ceiling, it’s still held there by the stone. Nothing floats, nothing rises or sets.” Watching her profile, he can see the way it hardens as her train of thought jumps the track. “Nothing changes.”

He shifts a little, the pebbles grinding softly underneath him as he leans to try to catch her eye. “You changed.”

This time when she looks over at him, it gives him a chill. The stone she’s been so contemplative about has found a home in her eyes, the set of her mouth. They seem cold and stiff and almost lifeless, soft evening blue turned to lapis lazuli. Still beautiful but hard. “I left, and not by choice. You wouldn’t know how much I’ve changed, Alistair. You have no idea what I was like before we met.”

“I suppose not, but I do know you’ve changed in the time I’ve known you.” He keeps his voice softer now, speaking carefully to avoid that stony shift becoming somehow permanent. He hasn’t seen her look like that since before Ostagar, and to lose all the little ways she’s softened since then would be the greatest waste. “Do you miss that? Or her, I guess. Do you miss who you were before?”

Her laugh is a single humorless sound that moves her entire body, shaking her shoulders and flexing her stomach. “What does that matter? She’s dead. Worse than dead.” There’s venom in her voice but Alistair doesn’t flinch since for once he’s certain it’s not directed at him. He watches as Leohta stands, a wobbly process that involves repeated planting of hands and feet before she can push herself vertical. There’s a powerful temptation to offer her help but the set of her jaw makes him stay his hand, even if whatever effect she might be going for is already ruined by her own unsteadiness. “Nobody mourned her, nobody misses her, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dead. Bhelen killed her as sure as he killed Trian. The prince is dead, the princess is dead. Princess Aeducan is dead.” Her voice is raising, getting louder and more raw the longer she speaks, until finally she’s yelling out at the water. “Princess Leohta Aeducan, second born and best beloved daughter of House Aeducan, is dead!” She punctuates the last word by throwing the empty bottle into the water but it’s a bad throw, short and shallow. The bottle makes only a small splash then floats, reflecting the moonlight as it bobs its way back toward the shore.

Alistair rises, brushing at the back of his breeches, and makes his way up to stand beside her. He’s well within punching range, possibly a dangerous gamble, but if the way she’s carrying herself is any indication, it wouldn’t hurt very much right now. Plus, if she punched him, at least it’d prove she was feeling something. “I’d mourn her but like you said, I never did get to meet her. I’ve met Warden Aeducan, though, and I think she’s pretty great. Accomplished a lot, too.”

She’s bent back down and is sorting through the stones at her feet, tucking some in the bend of her other arm. Standing back up is a careful process but she’s shaking her head the entire time. “They’re not gonna think so.” Her voice is normal again but her profile is still stony.

Bloop.

Was this was he was like heading into Redcliffe? Of course, he hadn’t gotten drunk on sickly sweet mead to deal with it, but he’d had his turn as the prodigal royal-but-not-really. The main difference was he never wanted it, but she spoke so little of her life before the Grey Wardens. Was the crown of Orzammar what she’d really wanted? Not that it really mattered now. “Seems to me they had their chance to appreciate you and they blew it.”

“Oh, no. That’s the thing. Up until the end, they loved Princess Aeducan. That was the whole problem. She was too well-loved. Luckily, I’m not.” Leohta stares out at the ripples from her last throw but the fight’s going out of her. It ought to be a comfort, less risk of being punched, but instead it just hurts more. He curls his hands into fists at his sides to keep from reaching out, swallows the words that’d tell her just how deeply loved she is and not only by him, as much as he might wish it were so.

“We could go back to Denerim without going to Orzammar.” Aaaaaaaalistair, what’re you doooooooing? He ignores the voice in the back of his head, prepared to make an argument for mounting their assault without the help of the dwarves, but Leohta shakes her head. She’s drunk and she’s still got better sense than you.

“Just because I don’t want to go back doesn’t mean we don’t have to. Being a Grey Warden isn’t supposed to be fun, hasn’t been so far, why start now?” She seems to consider the matter closed as she turns her attention back to the rocks she’s holding, sorting through them as though looking for a particular one. They start to slip away and clack into the pebbles below and with a frustrated sigh she picks one, letting the remainder drop. “This is supposed to be, though. How the fuck do you do this?” Another windup, another bloop.

“Wait. What are you trying to do?”

“Make it…” She shakes her head, the word apparently lost, and instead makes a bouncing motion with her hand.

“You’re trying to skip stones… by heaving them at the surface of the water with all your might?” And there’s the punch he was waiting for, exactly as painless as expected. It’s not even hard enough to stop him laughing.

“I saw you and Zevran do it in Redcliffe before we left and it seemed to calm you down so I thought I’d try. You made it look easy, but if you’re just gonna laugh then forg–”

Alistair intercepts her before she can start to walk away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just that I never would have guessed that’s what you were trying to do. I thought you were mad at the lake or something.” She’s looking up at him, wary, so he holds his hands up in innocence. “If you still want to try, I can show you.”

“No more laughing?”

“No more laughing. Warden’s honor.” When Leohta seems satisfied with his intentions, Alistair finally looks away from her, crouching down. “The first thing you need is the right kind of rock. It needs to be pretty flat and you want a triangle shape if you can find one, but flat will do for now.”

She’s crouching as well. “I thought it would be better with a round rock, like a ball.” She’s quiet, almost chastized, and Alistair has to duck his head and cough into his fist to hide the grin it conjures.

“No, that’ll break through the water and sink. A flat rock will bounce better. Something like these.” He shows her the three he’s found, all rounder still than he’d like but they should do the trick. She holds up a couple of her own and really, they’re no better, but they’re only for learning. “Yes, those will do. Now.” Alistair drops to his knees and crooks his fingers around one of the stones. “You have to hold it like this, because the important part is that you get it to spin. That’s what makes it skip.”

Leohta’s squinting at his hand, then she tries it out herself. Her hands are smaller so she can’t quite circle it the way he does, but Alistair hopes it’ll work out. “Like this?”

“Just like that. Now, the other trick is not to throw it up but to flick it. You want it to stay flat so you have to kind of–” He turns his arm out at the elbow and flicks the rock out onto the water. Four hops, not his best work but not bad.

When he looks back at Leohta, though, she’s entranced. She watches the ripples so long he has to clear his throat to get her attention back, but this time every trace of the stone is gone from her face. She looks eager, determined, but also a little embarrassed. Surprised to have been caught, probably, but it’s a charming expression nonetheless. She turns to face the water again, weighing the rock in her hand, then moves her arm and throws.

It splashes and sinks just like all her other attempts. Leohta curses softly and starts to turn away but Alistair catches her wrist.

“Hey, no way. You’re not giving up after one attempt. C'mon. We’ve got two more rocks, so two more tries, then I guess I can let you give up.” He starts to move before she can start to argue.

“It’s not giving up, Alistair, it’s accepting the inedible. Inedibibble. Ined… remind me to compliment the tavernkeeper tomorrow. His stuff is good.” Her voice gradually gets softer, a delayed reaction to where Alistair has taken up a position just behind her. It’s extremely convenient for him: she can’t see how his face is burning up from the presumptuousness of being so close to her, but it’s also the best position to show her how to move her arm. He wraps his hand around hers and lifts her arm into position.

“From here, you have to flick your hand out. Try to imagine the rock spinning out from the inside of your thumb and taking all that energy with it. The harder you can flick it, the more it’ll bounce and the more hops you’ll–all right, that’s it, you and Zevran are officially being separated because that’s not even dirty and now you’ve made it dirty. I hope you’re happy.” The woman in front of him is struggling to contain her laughter, he can tell, and as much as he wants to keep her focus on him, it’s hard to be genuinely upset. She doesn’t laugh nearly enough and especially not around him. The fact that whatever is so funny is lost on him is a far distant concern.

Alistair waits for her to compose herself then takes a moment to compose himself in turn when she settles back into a proper posture that puts her in contact with him from shoulder to hip. She’s nearly as tall as he is when he’s on his knees like this, a fact he’s thought about many times but never quite in this situation. Leohta gives herself a little shake, tossing her hair in his face as she does. He tries to blow it out of the way but there’s just too much. All right then, one thing at a time.

“Now. Just remember, angle your hand back and then flick. That word is ruined for me now, I think. You’ve ruined flicking.” In front of him Leohta snorts and Alistair make a private vow to forbid Zevran from using that word. He wants it to be their joke even if he doesn’t understand it. “Do you think you can manage?”

“To flick? I’ve done all right for the last few years anyway.” She giggles and clears her throat. “All right. Angle my hand back,” and her hand is moving inside of his so he loosens his grip, “then forward and flick!”

Alistair peers over her shoulder and sure enough. Blip, blip. One hop, but it’s one more than she’d managed before. He puts his hands on her shoulders and squeezes. “There you go! Well done, Warden Aeducan.” She lifts one hand to pat his but he can tell she’s still looking at the ripples.

After a moment, he releases her shoulders and, feeling a little bolder by the fact that she hasn’t elbowed him away yet, reaches forward to comb his fingers through her hair. It’s a practical gesture–even as he’s speaking, her hair is getting in his mouth–but hardly exclusively practical. Her hair is thick and her scalp surprisingly warm underneath it. In front of him she’s gone very still; he thinks she might even be holding her breath but then again, so is he. He focuses on his own hands until he’s gathered her hair at the back of her neck, but then the tension in it changes and oh.

Alistair looks up and she’s right there, her head turned to look at him. Maker’s breath but she’s close, her mouth gently open and her eyes searching his face. Her breath smells like honey and roses and his hand is still in her hair, it’d be so easy and it might be perfect but she’s been drinking and that’s not right. Or might it be OK, with her looking at him like that? The motion of her lips is so mesmerizing that it takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking to him.

“Alistair.” And like that, the moment is over, or at least set aside. “Would you do that again?”

“Of course.” She could ask him to fetch the moons from the sky right now and he’d say yes, but… “Wait, do what?” He didn’t do anything other than have a whole lot of thoughts in a very short span of time.

“Touch my hair. That was nice.” She’s leaning more of her weight against him now and it’s nice but also just starting to make him concerned. Still, he already said yes, so Alistair releases her hair from where he’s holding it and threads his fingers through it again, starting at her temple, mindful of and parallel to the little braid she’s so meticulous about. As he does it, her eyes drift closed but her face is relaxed. It’s not quite a smile but he’ll take it. “Again,” she murmurs as his hand comes to rest on the back of her neck.

Alistair laughs softly but he complies with her request, stroking his fingers through her hair again. And again, and once more, until she leans forward completely and drops her head onto his shoulder. Her breath is warm on his neck as he gives her one last stroke, then stops to reach out away from her. She grumbles softly in protest but he hushes her. “I’m just getting your other bottle. It’s bought and paid for, no sense leaving it here.”

“Why, where’re we going?”

“I don’t know yet about myself but you are doing to bed. Sleeping standing up is only good for horses and probably Sten, and sleeping on your knees is good for no one. Now, come on, up you get.” He hooks the hand holding the unopened bottle of rhodomel under Leohta’s knees, his other arm coming up behind her shoulders. She grumbles again as he starts to stand and he pauses before beginning to walk.

“You’re carrying me like a princess.” The humor in her voice warms him but now he feels a little more confident about deflecting it.

“I’m a Warden carrying another Warden like a Warden. No princesses here. Well, except for the tavern but I’m certainly not trying to pick that up. I could throw you over my shoulder if you wanted, but you have to promise not to throw up on my back.”

“No promises.” She slumps against his shoulder as he starts to walk. It’s only a few steps from the beach to the door but he takes his time. Who knows what Orzammar will do to her, or what she might do to Orzammar? The answer is liable to be complicated but this, for as unexpected as it is, feels strangely simple. She might not even remember it in the morning, but it’s not a feeling Alistair’s going to forget any time soon. “Alistair.”

“I don’t have a free hand to pet you, but if you can stay awake until we get inside, maybe I’ll give you scritches once I get you upstairs.” He’s trying to figure out how he’s going to open the door when she shakes her head and answers.

“Thank you for coming out tonight. I’m sorry I’m–”

“None of that now. You have nothing to be sorry for, and if anything I should say thank you for having me.” Alistair manages to hook the latch with his pinkie then wedge his foot into the gap, kicking the door open as he maneuvers her inside. “You may not have found it so, but I think being a Warden can be a little bit fun, if you’re with the right person. Or people,” he continues, scrambling to cover for himself while trying to ease the door’s closing with his foot. Once he’s got both feet back on the ground, he looks down at the woman in his arms. Fast asleep, looking as young as he’s ever seen her and more peaceful than she has possibly the entire time he’s known her. The inn’s main room is empty, the fire doused, and he’s almost loathe to speak again and interrupt the silence, but he does.

“Or person. Just the right person.”

#my writing #dadwc #dwc #alistair theirin #leohta aeducan #alistair x f!warden #alistair x f!aeducan #alcohol #but also fluff #and feels #leohta's such a mess #oh and yes she and jonah gave their mabaris the same name #it's a thing

30 notes · View notes

johnnythirteenguns · 8 years

Text

logan, not spoiler free thoughts (it got long):

anyways i saw logan yesterday and im still sensitive from it and i wouldnt know where to begin having a conversation about it with people who want to see it

as a film it’s pretty good. i didnt feel too much time was wasted, if any really, it’s tropey though. so like once it gets going it is point a to b to c to d with no variation and you spot the chekov’s guns right away and you can figure out how it’s going to end half way in. which im fine with as long a movie doesnt patronize me, and i didnt feel logan did. it was just formulaic. but it was good and watchable. there is a lot to be said for exploiting a tried and true formula for story telling but fitting it to the aesthetic of the characters therein.

also although i dont talk to movies i have realized that i am increasingly more involved with reacting to them and i dont know if this means i am more empathetic with the characters on screen because i am becoming more empathetic or if im more emotional and have nowhere to direct that emotion in my real life so i put it all into relating with the characters on a given screen and so when stuff happens to them i just really React.

that being said like im really. tired. of white characters being allowed to use brown bodies as stepping stones and footstools. there are a lot of dead brown people in this film. the main characters are all white. although dafne did an admirable job as laura, if i had the chance id recast her immediately. i wouldnt have cast her at all to be honest. i hope that when an older or adult laura shows up that they cast an actual mexican actress (not a white one). in logan they imply that the babies are clones, but there’s also implication that it was actually just in-vitro using the stolen dna the way you would use donated sperm? unless i watch it again i wont know because the language seemed unsure of itself.

but yeah. i dont. know. it’s literally too much at this point like we’re just constantly thrown under the bus so to save, create, or help white characters. for example, you know the horse family is gonna die, you know it because it’s a Trope. but it’s a black family, and they die gruesomely, which okay, everyone that dies in logan dies gruesomely and violently. but theyre the only black characters with speaking parts, and there is a dearth of them elsewhere in the fox marvel universe. rictor, one of the escaped 23s, is mexican in the comics, apparently so in the movie, and i can safely assume his actor is latinx as well (but he’s a baby and so doesnt have a ton of stuff on his imdb). he’s also the only one of the kids who is shot when they’re being chased through the woods.

i honestly dont know if i would have preferred they keep it on screen or leave it off screen. clearly brown children are afterthoughts anyway? to be used as plot devices and target dummies as needed. i dont know. i do know that i was waiting for it and i thought he was going to die. they do have a line of dialogue immediately after rictor is shot to reassure you that he isnt going to die, which is something i guess.

at any rate i really cant with child death or child abuse in media lately. i dont know how i feel about laura’s self-harm scene. not good but self-harm in media in general needs to be looked at in a case by case basis i dont know about this one.

which btw wow the actress that plays gabriela is straight up from the bronx born and raised in new york and i knew she couldnt be a primarily spanish speaker that accent grated on my ears so badly i would have preferred they find a way to have her speak spanish and english at some point to illustrate their point because whenever she spoke that accent made me desperately wish she would shut the fuck up or get to the end off her sentence if i could somehow physically share how fucking tired i am of fake mexican accents like youd faint for ten seconds from the force of my anger.

like of all the things to be that angry about but it’s honestly just One More Thing at the point and im so tired.

im really over the disposability of brown bodies and i wish it would stop.

all that being said ive been listening to this podcast and my love for the x-men and x-men adjacent characters has grown immensely over the last year and going in i was emotional about film history, about the x-men cinematic history (honestly hugh jackman has brought his a-game every time when playing logan and i thank him, even when the films themselves were lackluster), i was emotional about x-men comics history, like. i really loved how they all chose to portray the characters and the relationships between them and it was really hitting a lot of perfect notes like.

it turns into a really rough father daughter story really quickly and it got to me because of my own father, because of my possible future, it was a lot of deeply personal levels being affected. um, there’s a lot of symbolic stand-in stuff, like the canadian border, brown children crossing it alone (all their caregivers are implied to be dead to the point that they pretty much are dead due to their absence, so more dead disappeared mexican women, along with the dead teenage girls we’re told about much earlier).

i think i may have just gotten too sucked into it and too emotionally invested and am maybe looking at it through too much of a like film student lens because i was studying it for form and execution obviously and i dont feel like tropey is bad, and i say this because there were moments where most of the audience was laughing but they werent particularly funny? like haha funny moments they were a little more light-hearted (and i mean a Little, not much, to me they illuminate how very tired and hopeless logan is in comparison with other characters and the rest of the world) but because the rest of logan is couched so firmly in the same sort of world weary americana (despite none of the main characters being american, which is neither here nor there) that a film like hell or high water is that i didnt find them Funny. theyre still painful moments meant to illustrate a turning point in the characters’ relationship.

i do say this as someone who at this point just completely started crying for the rest of the movie. i was holding it back since close to the beginning because i Do like these kinds of films and stories and so im already primed to get really invested and then it just kept hitting me and. even gabriela running away with laura and how desperate but fierce they as the characters being in that situation really got me.

also there is no stinger scene so dont wait unless you want to listen to the man comes around which i love so i was fine with waiting anyway. also you see a special thanks given to all the comics creators that had a major hand in shaping laura kinney which got me and marjorie liu is listed.

#i dont know why it's telling me disposability isnt a word?

5 notes · View notes

nnvri-blog · 8 years

Text

hiiii everyone !! i’m ian and i swear to god i was gonna post this sooner, but i was up all night last night cramming for a calc exam and i just now got home from a very long day of gallivanting. that being said, i’m really happy to be here and although introductions aren’t really ,, my thing ( we get it ian, you’re awkward nd quirky ) ima give it my best go and keep it short and sweet with some details under the cut, and if you like my guy uri then please click that lil heart and i’ll hit you up about plotting !! ( please i love plotting smh )

he spent a majority of his adolescence living in the outdoors/wandering around the world bc his mama is a nomad

he didn’t mind too much bc it gave him some decent survival skills for the real world considering he p much raised himself lol ( we get it uri ur an optimist >:T )

his dad kinda left at an early age bc his parents fell out of love and his father decided it was time to go back to korea due to a very generous job opportunity working at the asan medical center in seoul as one of their head surgeons being made available to him !!

he was born in sers, france and lived there steadily until he was about eleven years old, which is when his parents divorced and his mother formed an itch for not wanting to stay in the same place for a long amount of time !!

he misses sers. u see, uri is a lover of astronomy, astrophysics and natural science - a total nerd who found his first love in france through a really big nd lovely observatory called the pic du midi

he speaks 3 languages fluently: korean, french and english, but he can speak conversationally in a few others due to his travels. if any of ur muses speak english, please note that uri has a lil frenchy accent nd he actually hates speaking in english bc he thinks he sounds silly !! -_-

my son is a sickly man !! he moved back to korea when he turned 17 to live with and be treated by his father bc his immune system became very weak from all the moving around, sleeping outside ( most times ) and constantly being introduced to new air that his body wasn’t familiar with which in turn made uri very ill. his father treated him well, but his body is still weak :’(

so u will always see him wearing face masks ( no word of a lie, he even wears them in his own home, he’s like kakashi but the rock lee version where he’s a lovable weirdo nd not in the least bit cool ) and carrying hand sanitizer in his jacket pocket nd flinching away from anyone who tries to touch him especially without permission bc the prospect of living in a hospital bed Terrifies the poor baby

uri is generally very endearing, eccentric, charismatic, bit Sarcastic but naturally Loving, iono mannn he was an aggressive teenager and got into a Lot of trouble nd fights with people he met while travelling nd chilled out once he realized he was Frail. an enigma if u will

his ma’s tendency to always be inconsistent was passed down nd stuck w/ him into adulthood !! yay uri !! ur unreliable nd mad capricious good for u !! he hates change but he cant help but Always Change wtf

talk to him about anything space related, talk to him about trappist-1 and his face will light up faster than a 10 yr olds sketchers

he’s now a 20 yr old college student double majoring in astronomy/advanced astrophysics. but he draws a lot and pretty damn well, he would have majored in art if he had stayed in new york long enough to evolve into an art hoe :D think of him as like.. the stereotypical headass anime boy who can be seen running to school with a piece of burnt toast in his mouth bc he slept 30 mins past his alarm but like he’s into space nd shit,,, thats uri lol... LKFJGBLDKFJG

truly can’t believe y’all read this ,, as long as this is trust that these are just the basics to his character so please plot with me if u wanna know more or whatever LKJFGBLKDFJ

#gnintro #( .ooc )#ill fix my tags later im exhausted nd just want 2 watch spongebob reruns tbh #this whole thing is a mess ?? its a mess it wasnt supposed to be long my bad #idk if anyones evn here but ayeeee #not that anyone needs 2 be told this but wonwoo is mad cute uh

8 notes · View notes

undeademoprincess · 8 years

Text

Bold the statements that are true for you!

Tagged by: @hoseokjinns yup yup

APPEARANCE:

I am 5′7″ or taller I wear glasses I have at least one tattoo I have at least one piercing I have blonde hair I have brown eyes I have short hair My abs are at least somewhat defined I have or have had braces There is something i would change about the way I look

PERSONALITY:

My Hogwarts house is: Gryffindor Hufflepuff Ravenclaw Slytherin (the pottermore test throws me in gryffindor but my heart says hufflepuff) I am an introvert I like meeting new people (unless its online and the person doesnt do the surpirse dick pic bullshit) People tell me that I’m funny Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me I enjoy physical challenges I enjoy mental challenges I’m playfully rude with people I know well I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY:

I can sing well I can play an instrument (piano, viola, drums, flute, saxophone, and can play the xylophone ) I can do over 30 pushups without stopping (unless im having a stressful day or have no energy/sick, otherwise I can go for a while) I’m a fast runner (does sprinting count? Cause I start off strong but fail after a bit cause my lungs cant keep up) I can draw well (i dont draw often but everytime I whole heartedly practice I do pretty well and see imporvements) I have a good memory I’m good at doing math in my head I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports (only racket ones tho, like tennis and badminton, all of the others I either struggle with or its too physical for my liking) I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else (i was on a community team for both tennis and badminton) I’m in a orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else (key word here: WAS. I was in band for a small time, did a bit of orchestra and choir in elementary) I have learned a new song in the past week I work out at least once a week (i look up chllenges like the 30 day squat challenge for example and will find ones i like and rotate them when I get bored) I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months I have drawn something in the past month I enjoy writing (I write fanfics when I have the time) Fandoms are my #1 passion (has dmmd flashback, aaa good times) I do or have done martial arts (it was briefly)

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss I have had alcohol I have scored the winning goal in a sports game I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting I have been at an overnight event I have been in a taxi I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year (my senior year in high school in a nut shell) I have beaten a video game in one day I have visited another country (I was like an infant when this happened so does this count?) I have been to one of my favourite band’s concerts (saw weird Al once, that was amazing, but as for my all time favorite band, I havent)

RELATIONSHIP:

I’m in a relationship I have a celebrity crush (most of them are pretty small, more like adore them, like Johnny Depp for example) I have a crush on someone I know I have been in at least 3 relationships I have never been in a relationship I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them I get crushes easily (only for fictional characters, jesus do I have a lot of husbands) I have had a crush on someone for over a year I have been in a relationship for at least a year I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” I live close to my school (i used to walk to both my elementary and middle school, with me being not even a minute away from my elementary school) My parents are still together (my father was murdered) I have at least one sibling (half sister that tired to kill me multiple times when I was younger) I live in the United States (born and raised in Las Vegas) I have hung out with a friend outside of school in the past month I have a smartphone I have at least 15 CDs I share my room with someone (if family visiting for long periods of time counts and or my cat then yes)

RANDOM SHIT:

I have breakdanced I know a person named Jamie I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce I have dyed my hair I’m listening to one song on repeat right now I have punched someone in the past week I know someone who has gone to jail I have broken a bone I have eaten a waffle today I know what I want to do with my life (own all the cats I want and find someone who puts up with my bullshit, other than that lifes a journey) I speak at least 2 languages fluently (i grew up in a mainly Spanish speaking neighborhood so I can pick out mostly what is being said, I can understand some Japanses characters but I understand the spoken version a lot better, I can slightly figure out if someone asked me a question in Chinese. Other than that I can at least recognize the language being spoken near me, with the exception of some African and Asian languages since I havent been exposed to ALL of the languages in the world) I have made a new friend in the past year (I made one human friend but like 6 pet friends. I’m rolling in love)

I’m taggin: @xxxlilonexd @rei-ayanamii @xelestial-skydragon @spazdidlysparkle721 @breakthecandyeater @tokyoghoul96 @lilchubchim and if anyone else would like to do this than do it man. Listen to your inner Palpatine and “do it”

#tag meme #my post

2 notes · View notes

happycakestories · 5 years

Text

old mx fic dump pt. 7

some particularly notable aus -- they stand out for the imagery/themes or how much i personally invested in the story

rusalka au - still love the idea of a drowning kind of love, myths of alluring water creatures, and the wet, decaying rot of old eastern european mansions - the kind that still seem to grow, wholly alive, within the marshes

cowritten w a friend who made a cool graphic :)

honey’s mom is a rusalka and his father is a korean ambassador or whatever, she was supposed to lure the dad in and kill him but she falls in love with him and gets married to this mortal, he builds a house for them near the lake she came from, she hears the voices of her brothers and sisters calling her and telling her to go back, slowly driving her insane the longer she keeps away from the water

This undead rusalka is not invariably malevolent, and would be allowed to die in peace if her death is avenged. Her main purpose is, however, to lure young men, seduced by either her looks or her voice, into the depths of said waterways where she would entangle their feet with her long red hair and submerge them.

when honey is born she gets remorseful bc he’s half a fae and she condemned him to be shunned and also his nature is supposed to be inherently dangerous so she tries to keep him away from bodies of water of any kind

but rusalki need water to live so she has to stay in the tub for a loong time very often

lots of childhood memories of him grabbing a stool and scooching to the edge of the tub as she blew pink bubbles at him

honey wonders why he’s not allowed to go near water bc he’s a child and children are nosy and during a family outing when his mom is distracted he explores and gets lured into the water bc the other rusalki kinda want to kill him to get revenge on his mother but he’s half fae and he manages to escape

when he comes back he’s changed, he has blue eyes and her fears are confirmed

so that night after saying goodbye to her husband and son she goes back to the lake and makes a deal with her brothers and sisters, she goes back with them but they must promise they’ll leave her son alone

everybody tells honey his mother drowned, but he’s suspicious bc she never went near any body of water, so he investigate and approaches the lake and sees young, beautiful rusalki floating under the water, his mother is there too but she looks so different and totally not human, he runs away in fear and after this he develops a terrible phobia of water bodies

every night he hears his mother sing and call him, trying to lure him in, so his father for fear of his mental health decides to move, but everywhere they go in russia, honey’s mother finds them and haunts him, so his dad decides to go back to korea, where he marries hyolyn who is the daughter of some fancy ass noble family and honey comes to love her like a good stepson but he cant forget about his mom, who is like a ghost to him, and he cant help but wonder if the memories he had of her before she drowned are even real

then he’s introduced at a fancy ass party, and honey is super shy bc he doesnt know anybody and his korean isnt that good, but at the party there’s ck too, the son of a general, and he’s a little nerd and also doesnt have many friends and he sees this super pretty boy with the most unusual eyes

and he notices this super pretty boy with the most unusual eyes

and he's shy bc his korean isnt too good also living in russia he doesnt have any friends here

who is looking around nervously since he doesn't know anyone or the language well enough

and ck falls in love at first sight bc he's shy too and a bit nerdy and doesnt have many friends

for the first time he's the one that approaches someone else

he goes over coughing out an awkward "hi" as he leans against the wall next to the other boy

blue eyes perk brightly at his prescence and the other boy also lets out a soft hi in return

it's thick and clumsy and ck immediately recognizes the slavic accent

he takes a chance and switches to russian, re-introducing himself again in the other language

he's immediatly bombarded by rapid fire russian, the blue eyed boy jabbering away with relief in his eyes AND LIKE IM IMAGINING THIS 1910's SALON YKNOW, and the two boys huddled in a corner speaking in russian

and i was thinking that they become friends and ck notices his friend is weird, he doesnt want to go swimming in the pond in summer and sometimes he looks at water with authentic terror in his eyes

but he doesnt know he's afraid to see a face under the surface

i'm figuring they're around 12-13 at this point?

jooheon's still fully draped in a high colored blouse and pants

manyeo0

YES and at first he didnt want to let ck go into the water because he was afraid his mother would snatch him

happycakeycake

won't even take off his shoes near the water

OOH GROWING UP TOGETHR

but Ck is also so genuinely enthusiastic about going to swim

so he decides to follow him to at least watch over him

but he is NOT GOING IN

"i don't understand, i mean its just pool water..." changkyun mutters even as instant regret fills his chest at the other's shaking form

happycakeycake

there has to be a scene where jooheon totally looks feral and ck is actually scared

i want dangerous jooheon sorry woops

manyeo0

that we can get man, maybe the one time honey (as an adult tho) gets into the water

and ck is scared and turned on at the same time

happycakeycake

omg DUDE what if he almost gives into his instinct

and drowns ck

manyeo0

also my dude i want this fic to be FILTH Y

happycakeycake

but he snaps back in time

manyeo0

and then cue underwater sex like in movie

happycakeycake

to push ck back to the surface and onto the bank

manyeo0

happycakeycake

HOHA

manyeo0

yes man

i want the filth

manyeo0

romantic, pretty filth

happycakeycake

AND HE LOOKS UP INTO BRIGHT EYES, PUPILS SLITTING INTO THIN LINES OF BLACK

LIKE AN IDLE BOAT DROWNED INTO TWO ENDLESS POOLS

HE CAN'T LOOK AWAY

manyeo0

YES

happycakeycake

BUT HE GREW UP SO MUCH

manyeo0

WAHAHAH AND THATS THE ONE TIME JOOHEON ISNT THE SUB

happycakeycake

OH POWERBOTTOM JOOHEON COUGH

manyeo0

OOOH MAN

manyeo0

YES

happycakeycake

OMG OF COURSE

manyeo0

fucking on the riverbank

happycakeycake

like reeds and fallen petals from the water clinging to his body as he pulls onto the bank

pushing ck down onto the mossy ground

he can feel the wetness sinking in through his clothes but he can't bring himself to move

not with jooheon sat naked and wet as the day he was born, staring down at him

manyeo0

joklkllflfklfkfdlkd

happycakeycake

and then he gets ridden an inch withinhis life woops yep i can't write porn anymore

manyeo0

AND HE'S LIKE "I SHOULD BRING U TO THE RIVER MORE OFTEN WHOOPS"

happycakeycake

and all he gets in a response is sharp teeth against his neck, biting harshly before pressing a soft kiss against it

he shivers but makes no move to shrink away

manyeo0

my aesthetic for this fic is lots of water and lots of filth

happycakeycake

i love that please

and dark green moss

dark woods with decaying trees sticking out of rivers

manyeo0

maybe ck gets sent to one of those military schools

happycakeycake

nooOOOOOO

omg but when he comes back

manyeo0

and honey keeps studying at home and they only see each other when ck is back home but they write letters

happycakeycake

both of them would 've changed so much

YES

and ck gets progressively worried as the letters become rambled and messy

manyeo0

MGMGD

happycakeycake

jooheon's thoughts jumbling into conflicting opinions about the rivers and lakes

JOOHEON KINKILY DROWNS GUNHEE

happycakeycake

there's something so satisfying in the way the other man's eyes dull and his heartbeat lulls to a stop against jooheon's own chest

manyeo0

IOFOFJSMSMDN

he'd be horrified if he knew man

also i posted the thing

happycakeycake

he can't hold himself back from stealing the man's last breath of air with a searing kiss

swallowing his last gasp and sealing their mouths together until he grows completely limp in jooheon's hold

happycakeycake

oh my god but like what if changkyun totally saw that poor man walk into the lake

manyeo0

OJJDJDDDKKS

happycakeycake

and jooheon rises out of the surface, only able to whisper out a "hi" as changkyun's eyes widen in horror

and then the whole sex scene happens

manyeo0

OGHH HIT

YES

happycakeycake

except he totally forces him during it to promise to forget about it

i just want a scene of jooheon reveling in the extent of his full powers, breathing in the scent of the waters as the moon drapes across his skin

and changkyun can only watch to the side, terror and awe all mixed into one

-----------

The dry gravel gives way under Changkyun’s boots into the ever-familiar softness of wet moss, as he makes his way back home.

Hoseok always jokes that he’s going to become a forest hermit one day, but what with the continually mounting stress at work, the younger sergeant is starting to seriously consider it as a viable option.

Even the annoying scratch and tug of wild branches against his uniform seems almost playful and comforting this evening. His uniform coat, brocaded with a once-flourishing embroidery of a yellow bird, is slung casually over his shoulder as the forest gives him its usual clinging welcome.

It wouldn’t be quite an exaggeration to say that he was forest-dweller, since he had literally settled down inside a patch of quiet, secluded woods, easily buying up an acre or two of unused land to live on.

The dense underbrush finally opens to a quiet grass bank. It’s perpetually secluded - the forest hunching inwards like a mother, leafy arms spreading wide to block out almost all traces of sunlight. Everything flourishes in the dark, moss and mud squishing wetly underfoot as they appear in larger and larger pieces towards the pond.

Well, it’s more of a lake than anything: deep and dark enough to hide any man’s secret. Dilapidated trees, raised half mast in the water, reach with stiff branches for any kind of light, even as they inevitably rot deeper into the water with each passing day.

And all of this is Changkyun’s home.

He plops down at the edge of the bank with a content sigh, relaxing fully even as freezing wetness seeps through his trousers. His reflection is clear and unbroken when he leans over the water, a perfect mirror image of serious brows and slim cheeks.

He leans closer, enough so that his nose could kiss against his mirror self’s, his hair could dip against the dark surface, and his lips could press a cold greeting to his home.

His face is only a millimeter away from touching the lake when he’s grabbed and pulled face-first into the water, pale wrists and outstretched palms flashing across his vision to latch onto his collar.

The initial panic and breathlessness soothes over when a familiar softness fastens itself wetly over his frozen scream. His vision shadows over, and Changkyun can’t tell if his eyes or closed or if it’s the unreachable darkness of the water.

Either way he pushes back, hands coming up to grope for full cheeks and bare shoulders as he bites against a plush mouth. A gasp comes out, muffled into tiny air bubbles, rising and popping towards the lake surface.

In a few seconds he follows, gasping and collapsing onto the bank, mouth raw as it’s assaulted by the chilling air. He sits up as quickly as possible, lungs protesting and limbs groaning when he raises himself up to glance toward the water.

Vectored ripples streamline across the surface, flowing into a direct stop in front of his dangled legs. The bottomless reflection breaks into a pale face and lake-slick hair - slitted pools of blue that sit atop of round cheeks which bunch into dimpled glee.

“Darling!” pierces through the air as a happy shout from pink lips, cupid’s bow arching in obvious delight. The cooed syllables roll off in thick Russian, curling gutturally through a taut throat.

“How was your day?” Changkyun replies simply, switching abruptly to Korean and exaggerating each word teasingly as he watches his lover frown in immediate discontent.

“I- miss - missed you,” Jooheon slowly replies, choosing each word with careful consideration as he forces away the Slavic sounds fighting to escape through his throat.

It all started many, many years ago, in Russia, Vladimir district, in a villa next to a lake.

---

The thing Jooheon liked the most about his mother was her hair.

Most of the time she wore it pinned on top of her head, or coiled in elegant braids that framed her face. When she let it down it fell in heavy, wavy tresses, red and shiny as polished copper. She let him run his little hands through the silky locks, and sometimes he helped her untangle the most stubborn knots with her favourite silver brush. It was difficult to choose the thing he loved the most about her, because in his mind Mother was absolute perfection: she was beautiful and wise, she had strong and nimble hands and the softest voice he had ever heard.

Jooheon had inherited her pale hair and pale skin and her heart shaped lips, but the cut and shape of his eyes, their colour, those were like his father’s, Mr. Lee. He was an ambassador from Korea, which was very far away from Russia, and didn’t look like his wife at all. He even spoke a different language, and hired a teacher who taught Jooheon how to write and speak it correctly. It sounded strange to Jooheon’s ears, and so different from the lazy drawl of Russian, but he did his best because it made Father proud and Mother happy.

Not that his father was home much: he spent most of the year in Moscow to tend to his business, which made Jooheon’s mother sad, though she tried not to let it show. She wasn’t very happy in that big wooden villa all by herself, with only her little son, his teachers and a couple of maids to keep her company. Jooheon was very young at the time but he understood that his mother felt lonely and he always tried to do his best to cheer her up.

She especially got a wistful, far-away look in her eyes when she glanced at the lake next to the house, which was strange, since she never even walked close to it.

In fact, she seemed to have a deathly, unbreakable fear of all bodies of water, not just the lake, but rivers and small streams too. Jooheon was forbidden to go near water, not even on hot summer days when he would’ve loved to take a swim in the mossy lake to refresh himself. His doctor had suggested it once and Mother had been so upset she had almost thrown the poor man out of the door.

One day, Jooheon had asked her about it. He was sitting on the cold tiled floor of her bathroom, his fingers idly tracing the shape of one of the bath’s clawed brass feet, while his mother blew rose-perfumed bubbles at him. “Mother, why are you afraid of water?” His mother had let out a very unlady-like snort “Why do you ask that, pchelka? I’m taking a bath in water right now, am I not?” Little Jooheon had scoffed, knowing she didn’t intend on answering his question seriously. “I don’t mean that! I mean, why are you scared of the lake, or the streams and rivers? Why don’t you ever want to go swimming in the lake?”

This time, his mother had glanced at him through narrowed, impossibly blue eyes, so different from his own, and he had felt a sort of chill go through him. It felt like looking down a well full of icy cold water, knowing it could suck you in at any moment.

“I’m not scared of anything, pchelka. I just don’t like moving water too much. You never know what’s hiding beneath the surface. Something might grab your pretty little foot while you’re swimming and you’d never see the light of day again!” She had started tickling him then, his laughter bouncing through the tiled walls, and every thought about water and its mysterious depths was momentarily forgotten.

It all came back to him one day, a couple of years later.

At seven, Jooheon was still a small, pudgy boy with round dimpled cheeks and curly blonde hair. His mother and all the maids doted on him, they called him pchelka, solnyshko, angel. His father - those rare times he saw him, for he still spent the best part of his time in Moscow - wasn’t as affectionate, but he seemed satisfied with his progresses and always brought him presents from the city, such as intricate egg puzzles, imported sweets and books.

Mother received silver combs shaped like dragonflies, silk dresses that floated around her figure like gentle waves, and more diamond necklaces and earrings than she could possibly wear in that secluded house in the forest, where nobody could see them. Her only chance to show her off where the fancy parties Ambassador Lee attended in Moscow. On some occasions, he brought his family along, his wife (“my lovely Dar'ja” as he would introduce her) as radiant as ever, his little son adorably awkward, nervous from all the attention he would get as a mixed child born of an Asian man and a Russian woman.

Jooheon didn’t like those parties much, they felt so fake and stifling, and he was always immensely glad to be back to his quiet villa by the lake, with its creaky wooden floors and the fading paintwork on the walls.

There was something about the perpetual wetness of the wood - the way it creaked and gave way underfoot, as if the water in it had made it alive, shift, and grow with every slap of his chubby feet.

The city maids always shook their heads at the mess, stomping their heels in disgust at clumps of rich moss creeping up in damp corners and whispering about how it’s not good for the mistress nor the young master, for that matter, to be in these kinds of conditions. For all their hard efforts though, one rainy day later and the lake would be back to its original state: creaky, wet, rich, and alive.

As much as his mother guarded against lakes or any form of wild contact with water, Jooheon can see the unfiltered want behind the frenzied fear in her pale eyes. He understands the feeling - the same pull rising up within him every time his bare toes gripped dewed grass, every time the splatter of rain on his windows sent him into a panic, nerves driving him into a state of suspended alertness.

It’s these moments where he and his mother sought each other out, simultaneously as if on instinct. She would cradle his pulsing head to her chest, wrapping her own thinly clad, nightgowned body around his own, their hearts pounding to the same erratic rhythm. It’s the only thing that can calm him down enough to sleep: the fiery curtain of his mother’s loose, long hair soothing him safely back into the land of dreams.

"pet” / mafia au

GENERAL AESTHETICS: “it got her on her knees like religion” “every saturday night i get dressed up to get ready to ride for you baby” “movie stars and liquor stores and soft decay” “so imma care for you, you, you, you, yeah” “if i cannot move heaven, i will raise all of hell for you”

PET AU: jooheon’s a quiet pet but he watches everything his master does with wide, brown eyes. They say he’s too docile, too vapid, too silent, but well - he just wants to be good for the man he loves. https://ton.twitter.com/1.1/ton/data/dm/920057578448670730/920057561562451969/D8Lvlc_K.jpg:large

https://ton.twitter.com/i/ton/data/dm/920750240050933765/920750232492822536/3Wm36U-f.jpg:large

https://ton.twitter.com/i/ton/data/dm/920750283805904900/920750273085280261/xQ7RY3nU.jpg:large

https://ton.twitter.com/i/ton/data/dm/920750203677921285/920750186447753216/vTzzE4p6.jpg:large

https://ton.twitter.com/i/ton/data/dm/920750190239330316/920750166130520064/kFTbt0ay.jpg:large

Playlist: “le noir” by bap, “ribbon in the sky” by bap → only for action scenes maybe, “Galaxy” by Ladies Code, “All about You” by Taemin → beginning 1st part of video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEURku1dTfU), “move” by taemin, “in the night” by the weeknd, “Wires” by the neighborhood-Minhyuk?, “White Noise (Chinese Version)” by EXO - in Jooheon’s absence, MAYBE TAEMIN STUFF IN GENERAL (Press It album - song → sexuality→ Until Today (it's perfect!!!) → Ace → Experience), “Burning Desire” by Lana Del Rey, “Gangsta” by Kehlani, BANKS MUSIC,

Scenes:

Confrontation: “We only wanted to rough him up a little for show,” Minhyuk sighs, nudging a hard toe against the soft, pale flesh of Jooheon’s thigh. The pet whimpers, warbling and desperate, and tries to shuffle away on bound, bloody knees. The same shiny black dress shoe comes stomping down over bare skin a second later, dragging out a raw cry of pain from between Jooheon’s torn lips. Jackson digs stinging half-moon crescents into his palm with the bloody tips of his blunt nails. Still, he stays silent.

“But, well-” the slender man kneels down on one leg, all coiled grace and deadly power as he takes Jooheon’s stained cheek in hand with feigned tenderness. “He made it a little too hard for us in the process,” a thumb digs into the exact spot where Jackson knows a dimple would sit during a deep smile, and Minhyuk smiles benevolently, “didn’t you pet?”

Minhyuk + jooheon interactions:

The bargain: Jackson reaches for the man, the leader’s outstretched hand, making sure to keep his fingers strong. Judging from the other’s pointed grimace, it’s a little too much. He bares his teeth in a smile anyway.

“Welcome, Wang Jia Er.” He keeps his expression open. “Please, call me Jackson.” Whispers arise immediately, like the chirping of crickets on a late summer’s night, and a laugh bubbles in the back of his throat. Jackson finally relaxes his grip, smile poised even as Howon’s hand comes to wipe casually against his fitted trousers. It’s bargain day, he reminds himself.

Howon nods, the cutting edge of his jawline turning to jerk towards the second room, bordered by the casual exoticness of an imperial era styled door, intricate lace-like designs carved out of fine mahogany and painted a fading red. Red for luck, his mother’s voice twines like threads of yarn knit with slender fingers through his hair. Red for marriage, his father’s crumbling visage breathes from behind his shoulder, the choking smoke of cigarettes winding a loose remnant around Jackson’s throat.

Red for power, he tells himself, a quiet echo within the blank space of his own mind.

He’s led into the intricately designed room, two rows of men flanking him loosely from both sides in a uniformed wall of black lapels and sharp white button-downs as they go. Inside, his nose is invaded by the curling scent of smoke, sweeping him into a momentary lapse of forgetfulness as images of decadent 19th century opium dens rip off from his wrinkled textbook pages and balloon inside his mind. Jackson huffs out a heavy breath at the decaying pictures, tasting the filmy sensation of marijuana clinging like a summer’s cup of sugary lemonade against his tongue.

The sunken-eyed, emaciated stare of poppy-drugged prostitutes have been replaced by the straight backs of bare-legged pets, kneeled so obediently in front of their masters Jackson’s arrival barely turns any of their steady gazes. He can’t say the same for his own impulsive curiosity.

Howon strides forward with calculated, casual steps, weaving past stained upholstery and scattered silk cushions until Jackson finds himself presented before a simple rectangular table, bare, save for a spotless china ashtray, surrounded by wood-backed recliners that all boast the same exotic design carved into the doorway border. They’re grouped into seats for two at the short sides of the table, then a seat for four lined up against the top edge, and finally a single chair placed directly on the opposite side to finish up the quadruplet seating. The hard tip of Howon’s shiny dress shoes stop right at the edge of the rigid circle, the rest of his men flocking behind him like a pack of well-dressed deadly penguins.

Jackson carefully seats himself in the single chair, spreading his legs and leaning forward with his elbows against his knees, shoulders relaxed and open. The wood of the chair shakes and creaks loudly on its spindly legs.

A pause. Howon’s dress shoes click in deliberate movement.

Howon’s penguin men begin shuffling in, taking up their invisible spots around the table with waddling gaits as their boss stalks among them, a panther among their midst. They all settle into the same position, legs bared, smiles plastered, all leaned in towards Jackson as Howon places himself directly opposite of him, hooking his legs together with a quiet shift of slightly too-tight fabric. Jackson notes the way the other man’s slacks pull and wrinkle like a fan’s folded edges around his crotch. He twitches testily within his own seat, looking up to catch Howon’s glowering expression with his cheery own.

Finally, the fine china of the untouched ashtray seems to come into use as the other man lights a simmering cigarette, roiling smoke unfurling from the slit of his mouth as he takes in a choppy inhale, releasing it in the same brisk manner. Smoking was always absolutely prohibited when training with weapons, but Jackson admits he quite likes how hazy it makes Howon appear in the seedy lighting of the underground den. Now, on his father’s harsh breath, that’s a completely different story. He keeps his smile pleasant, eyebrows rising just a fraction in surprise when a waft of cancerous fog brushes his way. He waits, and the cigarette is stubbed out against white china with a sizzling hiss, the red of its embers fading into black tar that spreads itself out along the pristine bottom of the previously untouched tray like a malignant tumor.

“So,” Howon puffs out one last trace of wispy smoke, “What’s your deal?”

Jackson can’t stop his smile from twitching, widening just a fraction across his face. He leans forward even more, back curved, fingers interlaced loosely at the knuckles as he rattles off every detail from the tip of his tongue: “167 shipments of illegal firearms to your district the minute our supply arrives from overseas on the first of each month - that’s roughly around 2000 per year entirely for your group alone. Free access through our subway tunnels for anything you need, and of course - solidarity for any-” Jackson flicks a hand at some invisible dust mite in the air, “-power struggles.”

Howon sits there, eyes grey, legs poised in his too-tight pants as he works down the last bit of smoke in his system. Despite everything, Jackson can see the purring glimmer of satisfaction in the other’s stone-cold gaze. “

And?” The other man prompts, shifting forward, hands clasped in front of his thin lips as he finally faces Jackson. “What do you want from me?”

Jackson’s words rattle off his tongue, smooth and rehearsed: “Complete and free movement through your district, all the way past the Gyeonggi-do station.” Howon’s single arched eyebrow reads something akin to that’s it? and Jackson’s mouth immediately gets the better of him as he finds himself blurting out, “Maybe one your pretty little pets as well,” motioning towards the boys and girls, lounging, supple and silent, outside of their tense bargaining ring.

Howon’s straight mouth finally twists, the man unable to keep the amusement off his face at the younger man’s brazen request. “Why not?” he chuckles dryly, bending deep at the waist before pushing himself upright on strong thighs. “A symbol of our union: your guns in exchange for a warm body to keep you company on cold, lonely nights.” He smiles openly for the first time since their meeting, teeth straight and canines sharp. Jackson has the distinct feeling he’s being made fun, but well, Howon isn’t exactly wrong.

This time, it’s Howon stepping out first through the ring of carved chairs, all his men rising to follow, leaving Jackson to exit last. He’s led through another rigid set of dusted hallways, only made worse by the rotting tapestries draped over the walls with fading beauties clad in kimonos, hanfus, and the like. Jackson has to admit, the other man’s sense of appropriation is quite elegant, even though it lacks something to be desired in the cleaning department. He keeps his pace even, lagging towards the bottom end of the group as he watches Howon pull a man forward, conversing with him in hushed tones and subtle motions. There’s nothing left for Jackson to be worried about, but he finds himself anticipatory for the first time in the long months since his assumption.

The room they come to must be the heart of the den, Jackson considers, stepping inside, practically pushed towards the middle of the circle by an imperceptible pressure. It’s covered entirely in silk drapery, tapestries and knotted curtains slipping down the walls onto the floors, floors that are a pool of various cushions and round beds, barely a hint of grey cement able to peek through the garish colors of the silk. Jackson wrinkles his nose for the barest of seconds; the musk of sweat and perfume permeates like a fog throughout the room.

“Namjoon,” Howon’s voice echoes throughout the room, nodding slightly at the man Jackson watched him converse with before. “Bring them in.”

The other man-Namjoon, bends almost imperceptibly at the waist before striding out the room, slipping out through an easy chink in the circle’s armor. Jackson blinks once in vague surprise, and the circle is formed once again, no weaknesses to be found. Howon turns toward him with a patient grin, and Jackson shoots back his own tight smile.

The mind-numbing incense of the pressure in the room grows, and he shoves his hands into his pockets, steadying his fingers against sweaty palms. He waits.

The familiar tap of dress shoes sound, muffled over the scattered layer of cushions on the cement floor. Jackson looks up, hands tensed within his pockets to see the penguin ring rearranging itself into lumped bunches as Namjoon re-enters the room, the hard pound of his boots followed by an unfamiliar string of soft brushing footsteps, the imprint of their sound pressed like dandelion dust into silk by light, bare feet.

Bare feet, long legs, all pale flesh on show as Jackson watches, breath caught, as a line of collared boys and girls kneel onto the floor of cushions, turning to him the open edge of their cheek with wide eyes and ramrod straight backs. The last one files in, presenting himself in the same fashion, but, huh - the entire curve of his porcelain collarbones to his arched throat is noticeably bare of any thick bands of leather. He lingers, just for a moment, on the pet’s bowed head and turns back to face Namjoon with a relaxed smile plastered over his face again. It’s time to negotiate.

“This is it?” he prompts, leaning back a little, rolling his shoulders ever so slightly in the tight confines of his suit jacket. The other man responds to his jibe with a quick flash of short canines, light dimples dipping into an angled jaw as he casually pushes the starched sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Tattoos, Jackson notes, with a jaunty raise of an eyebrow. The Virgin Mary winds her way up the man’s veined forearm in a picturesque coloring of black and grey, save for the sickly green tears rolling down her 2D cheeks. Religious? No can’t be it, Jackson decides, dampening a snort as he notes the two stark lines that form the upside down cross adorning the knuckle of Namjoon’s middle finger.

“I’ll have you know,” Namjoon comments, calm and frank, stepping beside the first pet and lightly running the crook of his finger over her cheek, “our pets are trained thoroughly in all aspects of behavior.” A response comes almost immediately as she dips her head back against his touch, the perfect picture of pretty obedience. Jackson’s stomach jumps at her unreadable glance. Satisfied, the other man lifts away his tattooed hand, straightening himself with a smug, dimpled smile.

“Of course, that’s not to say they don’t have any personality - isn’t that right Youngjae?” He moves onto the next pet, a boy with pink, perked lips who shoots Jackson a puffy, dark glare as Namjoon’s inked fingers come to rest under his sharp chin. Instead of following the tilt of the man’s hand, the kneeled pet bites, jerking a tan digit into his glossy pout, catching it in a hard flash of white teeth. Still, Namjoon only chuckles, wrenching back his thumb and wiping it casually up Youngjae’s flushed cheek in a long, possessive motion. There’s barely a hint of the bite against the skin of the other man’s finger, and Jackson watches the pet settle back down against the cushion, lidded gaze once again fixed upon the silk in front of him without a sound of protest. What a show, he considers carefully as Namjoon moves on to the next kneeled pet.

Of course, he’s thoroughly interested, perhaps even fascinated by these pets, almost inhuman creatures that bare themselves so transparently before an entire room of black-eyed men, before his own stare without a moment of hesitation in their absolute submission. Even for the ones like Youngjae, feigning at spitefulness, the automatic reaction of their bodies when Namjoon approaches, quickly gives them away in their convincing play. Still, to give credit where credit’s due, Jackson can’t help but wonder, just exactly how the other man has got all these wispy, pretty things turning towards him like he could somehow hand them the moon on the string with just a simple brush of a blasphemous finger at their jaws, under their throats, through fluffed hair, and against pouted cheeks. He can’t say his own pocketed hands haven’t begin to itch, urged, just slightly to touch, with the careless affection Namjoon gives and inexorably receives with every passing pet.

It’s been too long on his own, too cold without at least the casual embrace of another human body. Jackson had thought himself stronger without it, but, scanning over the blatant display of soft, bared flesh before him, he considers the possibility of self-sabotage.

The end of the chain of murmured introductions finally reaches the last kneeled pet, and Jackson looks down, a short spark of remembrance tripping in his mind. He was the only one without a collar, Jackson notes, eyes traveling over the open skin along a pale neck all the way down to exposed collarbones. The pet wears the same half-unbuttoned dress shirt, spread across wide shoulders to show off an expanse of unmarked flesh, paired with black silk shorts, barely a hint of its hem peeking out beneath draped linen, and the rest of it practically swallowed by the thick muscle of bared thighs. He looks up at Jackson now, gaze a hazy mix of brewed coffee, hazelnuts, and a clear night’s sky, and Jackson swallows around the sudden lump in his mouth. He does his best to stare back, steady but not demanding, and all he receives is a dreamy blink from sleepy fox eyes.

There it is again - the twitch in his fingers, the hot irritation against his palms. Peach round cheeks call for the lightest of pinches, the glossy curve of a sharp cupid’s bow tempt an errant finger. Jackson has never met a cherub with such inky black hair, swirling in wisps of silk across gently fluttering eyelashes. The pet tilts his head, baring the translucent vein of his collarless neck in the dusty yellow lighting of the drug den, and Jackson is compelled to cover the spotless skin there with his own calloused, scarred palms.

What is something so vulnerable, so soft doing here, trapped, in a place like this?

The compulsion grows stronger, to do more than watch - rather to touch, to cover, to protect, and Jackson realizes it’s too late when Namjoon’s gone silent, when the whole room has fallen into a smoky hush because somehow, suddenly, there’s a warm cheek pillowing itself into the curve his palms, black silk nuzzling over his jumping pulse, and the innocent brown light of two upturned orbs drawing him in like a silent siren’s song. He can’t breath for an eternity of uncountable seconds.

“I see Jooheon has already introduced himself to you.” Namjoon’s deep baritone rings through Jackson’s jumbled thoughts, and his hand inadvertently flinches against the lenient curve of the pet’s - Jooheon’s - proffered flesh. A soft chirrup echoes over his palm, and his attention is drawn down to a pair of full lips, pulled into an expression Jackson would call a strangely petulant pout.

“Feeling forward today, hmm?” the other man hums, so sweet it’s like a mother cooing to her baby, and Jackson watches the same tattooed hand that had caressed so many others, thread itself into gleaming locks, pressing and kneading until Jooheon’s porcelain neck is arching backwards in plain submission. His own hand falls empty to the side, only a heated imprint left along its flattened palm.

Jackson forces himself to speak, to keep up an unfazed pretense, even as Namjoon’s ink-stained finger begins winding its way down the stretch of Jooheon’s bared neck, the upside down cross of his middle knuckle pressing against the hollow indent at the base of the pet’s collarbones. “So,” he prompts, voice raw and rough, “why no collar?”

It’s like he hasn’t been heard at all as Namjoon’s reverent touches continue for a few moments, arched gaze completely focused on the slight part of the pet’s supple mouth. He’s about to dislodge the awkward cough in back of his throat, when finally, the other man straightens with an age-old sigh, hand slipping, reluctant, from Jooheon’s unmarred throat. He slips the same hand into his pocket, shoulders flat, a perfect mirror of Jackson’s posture as his voice hardens into the same deep register from before.

“Simply put, he doesn’t talk.” He glances back down, meeting Jooheon’s diaphanous gaze, eyes softening for the barest of moments before looking up again. “We know he can understand us, but ever since we found him three years ago, he hasn’t uttered a single word. The clients are, to say the least, a little put off by his muteness.” Namjoon sighs again, body depressing with the strong exhale as if from some sense of personal disappointment, and Jackson’s heart picks up pace again as he picks through the hidden implications behind the other man’s statement.

Broken, not good enough, a simple piece of decoration, abandoned, pushed off to the side - and perhaps his for the taking.

“I want this one.”

Jackson is brazen, unflinching as he steps forward, the remnant of heat on his clenched hand drawn, magnetized, to Jooheon’s tilted stare, and he boldly declares his newfound intent with his gaze directly on Namjoon’s and his grip at the side of the pet’s sluggish pulse. A vibration sounds against his palm, and he finds himself stroking his thumb absentmindedly over the edge of a rounded jaw, soothing away what suspiciously sounds like whines under the rough pad of his finger.

Namjoon’s sharp gaze shifts minutely towards his boss, who’s lit up another acrid cigarette between his stern lips, some kind of invisible assent passing between the smoke curling through the room before he’s turning back to Jackson, eyes narrowed with an unpleasant twist to his mouth. “Don’t be brash. I mean, I’ve just told you what’s wrong with him - are you absolutely sure?”

An ugly twitch convulses through Jooheon’s previously smooth pulse, and Jackson tightens his grip around the back of the pet’s neck until the minute shaking finally subsides into his touch. “Of course.” He smiles, baring his teeth in what Kihyun calls his absolutely shit-eating grin.

Namjoon frowns, a dark shadow flitting over the hard edges of his expression, and Jackson tenses in preparation for another growled protest, but then Howon’s cold-steel voice is ringing through the thick air between them, dispelling the argument with the sharp incense of his smoking cigarette.

“Let him have what he wants. After all-” he takes another drag of the burning cancer stick, its flaring embers illuminated in his dead gaze, “what more could you want than a pet that would never talk back to its master? Perhaps,” he blows out another trail of gray smoke, pinched eyes turning on Jooheon for a second, “maybe even more should learn from his example.”

Jackson smiles, the lines of his face tight, and he nods his silent thanks. Howon returns it with a minute twitch of his own lips, and motions with a careless sweep of his hand for everyone to file out of the room. His men blend into an amorphous grouping of plain back as they sweep out the door, and the pets rise to their bare feet, following after them in a line of pure white. Jackson strains his neck, catching Jooheon’s hazy coffee and stardust eyes with an attempt at a genuine grin. He receives a slight perk of lips, complete with a hint of dimples, before Jooheon (pet, his mind whispers) is gone, the curled crown of his jet black head melting back into a sea of black and white.

Namjoon stares as he stalks past Jackson, the last one out of the room save for Jackson himself and Howon. His stringent gaze is unreadable, and the young boss watches the hunched lines of his back disappear out through the carved doorway before deciding to wipe away the worry in his mind for other much more pressing thoughts. Namely, thoughts about his newly acquired pet with the face of a cherub, the stare of an oracle, and the voice of a trapped songbird. Jackson is determined to hear him sing somehow.

Howon flicks the cigarette to the floor, grinding it into ash with the heel of his shoe as he regards Jackson with something akin to acceptance as he finally strides towards the empty doorway. “He’ll be sent your way shortly. Please feel free to wait outside.”

He gestures with an upturned palm towards Jackson’s direction, and they shake hands again, meeting each other’s gazes with unfiltered intentions. Howon smiles, broad lines indenting themselves into each cheek, the top row of his teeth glinting like a full moon on a dark night.

“It was good doing business with you.”

Sleep with me: (it’s after the first afternoon of the bargain)

Jackson's brought Jooheon home, got him all soft and settled in his room with a big fancy upholstered bed as he sits behind his desk to finish up some work, quietly observing the pet occasionally the entire time. Jooheon is technically allowed to roam free, but he only sits at the foot of Jackson's bed dozing with his head and arms propped against a corner, looking up ever so often out through the open windows and over at Jackson. Jackson gets up every 30 minutes or so, just to squat down next to the pet, looking him in the eyes only to receive a sleepy blink and he can't help but run his hands through fluffed locks as Jooheon coos contentedly into his hand. He always wonders if Jooheon needs anything, if he ever wants to get up, but it doesn't ever seem like it so the come and go kinda cycle continues until it's dark and Jackson's stripping messily out of his jacket and pants to go to bed - all nightly rituals forgone for today due to the big deal. And there's Jooheon, still propped against the bed, watching him out of the corner of sleek eyes, pale thighs a creamy contrast against the dark wood of his floor and jackson's plodding over on bare feet, squatting again for a last time, patting lightly at chubby cheeks as Jooheon props his head up to smile at him and Jackson's like "...I'll be going to bed now"

And Jooheon's plain smile only continues, nodding a little as Jackson begins slipping under his covers, and of course Jackson can only sit there, warm and suffocating in bed as he watches Jooheon's dark head lay back down against the corner of the mattress, legs still coiled against the cold hardwood floors - and it its him, he hasn't given permission yet. So then he's throwing back the covers, and scooching to the edge of the bed and cradling his palm under Jooheon's cotton soft cheek again, lifting the pet to look up at him and there's little red wrinkles of sheet imprints against Jooheon's round cheeks and jackson's heart twinges w such a sore ache he doesn't know how to reach out without immediately forcing himself onto the pet and scaring him off. Jooheon just blinks at him, brown eyes liquid and hazy with sleep, almost pouting indignantly. and Jackson, just reaches the same hand through his hair, smoothing back rumpled bangs, over and over again, scratching lightly at the pet's scalp as Jooheon's neck arches in his grasp and he's wiping a thumb over the red marks on Jooheon's face as he whispers "Sleep with me?" patting lightly at the silk clad body of his bed. Jooheon's cocking his head for a few seconds, staring at Jackson with soft open eyes and the older man is almost scared he wasn't understand - but then there's a sleeved hand pulling around his arm and he's automatically hauling up jooheon by his waist, the light weight of arms looping around his neck as the sweet scent of warmth and strangely dried flowers blooms through his nose. Jooheon's cradled in his lap, smooth legs curled up over his tanned own and jackson looks wonderingly down at his hands, practically melting into the curve of Jooheon's waist (Ref: https://ton.twitter.com/i/ton/data/dm/920418165968003077/920418148964212736/eph4Vr04.jpg:large ) All curled in Jackson's lap, wisps of hair brushing against the other's cheek Jackson is casually just holding Jooheon, feeling the way a warm soft body is shifting against his and of course Jooheon is still clad in the "uniform" of the other pets a plain loose white dress shirt and a pair of fine silk shorts. He's roughly fingering the edge of said shorts, looking over when a breathy whine comes past his cheek and he hikes the pet up higher in his lap, securing both hands around his waist and asks slowly, calmly "what kind of clothes do you like Jooheon?" He's receiving that same tilted stare again, eyes slit in an unreadable moment of consideration and jackson finds himself stroking casually at the pet's flank, some kind of strange reassurance he supposes. (like even getting a pet in the first place was only a power play, but now that he has one that's so soft...he's not sure how to handle him) Then there's a rounded finger poking, tracing down his bare chest and he has to stop himself from reacting at the sudden thrill that runs through him, following the pet's lidded gaze towards his own bare chest and he can't help but sigh, even as he tightens his grip around the other's supple waist like "You really don't talk, do you?" but the finger keeps poking, insistent, and there's a high whine reverberating at the edge of his cheek as Jooheon adamantly pushes up against Jackson's bare chest and Jackson really doesn't understand, no clothes? His chest? Naked? But then frustrated, a little huff of breath tickles along the column of his neck and the finger turns to point at the scattered pile of loose t shirts on the back of a dressing chair at the other corner of his room and Jackson tentatively tries "...My clothes?" and suddenly there's a happy coo of approval, sliding like silk over his collarbones and Jooheon's dark head of hair is bobbing eagerly as he re-situates himself back into the cradle between Jackson's legs. The next morning Jackson is pulling a droopy Jooheon by a limp wrist over to his closet and opening the entire thing as he gently pushes Jooheon in front of him and he's stating calmly into Jooheon's ear, lips brushing past wayward curls, pressing the center of his palm into the small of the other's back like “Choose whatever you want" and then there's a small sound of wonderment in the back of Jooheon's throat and he's carefully approaching the vast closet. Pushing and pulling things aside so slowly if Jackson closed his eyes he wouldn't be able to hear a thing, but he waits, patient, watching as he carelessly rifles through his own suits and pulling a pair on. But when there's finally a soft pair of footsteps behind him, he looks over to see Jooheon clad in one of his old, ratty oversized winter sweaters, collarbones entirely on show, still bared neck too vulnerable in the warm morning light. The hem of the sweater is most definitely too long, falling midway to bare thighs that all jackson can see is leg and more leg, he gets the cocked head look for the third time since the bargain, and all he can focus on is the long stretch of skin at Jooheon's neck. The only thing he can do to distract himself from Jooheon's suddenly more scandalous choice of fashion, is to draw the pet close, wrapping the callused skin of his palm over the other's dimpled cheeks as he mutters "We've got to get you a collar soon." in which he receives a purring sound of approval sleeved fingers come up to clutch gently at his wrist, keeping his hand there as Jooheon presses himself happily into Jackson's grip.

Outside perspective: Word spreads fast that the boss is entirely enamored, even obsessed, with his new pet. Kihyun notes the daily gossip with a blank face and open ears. He can’t refute it; Jackson practically brings Jooheon with him wherever he goes - regardless of societal propriety.

You like sweets?:

He needs glasses: probably kihyun again?

A pet for a pet: kitty

“You really don’t talk, do you?”: probably the whole “jackson” “master” thing

What else would it be used for?: kihyun being mean

“I need to be careful tonight - for you”: the party

--- cowritten with and conceived with the brilliant @deardystopia

Blind/mute magic au

in one of those fantasy universes where everyone happily coexists and the humans live well in the world w/ other magical creatures

and jooheon's just your typical neighborhood witch

but what if he was cursed somehow when he was younger and so he's blind

but he still manages to get around well enough and every week there’s a delivery boy to help get him materials and to send off the charms he makes

its like a quiet and domestic life but what if his usual delivery boy gets switched for someone else

because they're doing their new spring reshuffling thing so older employees get a new route and the new ones get to learn the old ones

and so changkyun is one of the new delivery boys and its one of the few jobs he feels safe enough doing w/ his disability - he's deaf

and so the old delivery boy knew about Jooheon's disability and knew how to work with that, knowing which wards on the door he should purposefully set off to let the witch know he was there

RIGHT LIKE IM JUST IMAGINING jars with dried flowers and crystal sunlight filtering through open windows as jooheon makes some tea for ck

ok so like usually jooheon's used to the right wards going off and so the delivery boy will just leave the package and then take the already pre-wrapped and pre-set charms to ship off

but like this time it feels completely different and so he gets up to go an d check

so like ck standing there awkwardly cause he doesn't see a doorbell and decides to knock on the door but then it swings open on its own to reveal the owner of the house

i kinda think jooheon would wear like soft browns and whites, like a white turtleneck probs

and changkyun probably layers w/ a ton of jackets and plaid and jeans?

that’s what i was thinking

like this kinda look w/o the kiddy stuff for jh and ck's hairstyle for that too

ck would totally wear a ton of hoodies and loose jackets

this hairstyle w/ the middle part for jh

soft flower witch jooheon

omg yesss

yeah the middle part is what i was thinking

and like a simple silver necklace or smth w/ a little bee charm

or a flower i honestly can't decide

i think it'd just be really cute to have a scene where jooheon gently feels around changkyuns face to get an image of him and he doens't realize he's kinda looking directly into ck's eyes and is a little too close

i totally want them to go for a walk together on a rainy day

and jooheon puts a charm on their umbrella so nobody gets wet

its cute and ck taps against his wrist to guide him away from big puddles

and whispers lowly because he totally wants to describe how pretty it is outside to jooheon even though he doesn't usually like to speak cause he doesn't know what he sounds like

delivery boy outfit totally needs a snapback

dude but like what if ck always wears a ton of layers and pulls his hat down low cause he always feels so unsure of himself w/ his disability and tries to shield himself w clothing

but after meeting jooheon

and seeing how open and happily he lives w/ his disability, always smiling and never hiding his eyes even though he can't see

he kind of starts gaining his own confidence

like one day he comes and like jooheon always physically greets him to makes ure its the right person and he's like "oh, no hoodies today?" cause the fabric under his hand is usually thick, but today its just bare skin

and changkyun just smiles shyly and taps out "yep" against jooheons wrist

THIS IS THE TEA JOOHEON MAKES FOR CK IN THE OTHER AU WITH CRUSHED PETALS OR SMTH, And Changkyun s like asks you're blind and yet everything you do is so beautiful

Jk wait that's too early

Like "the tea and the cup match so well" and jooheon just laughs tapping blindly at Changkyun s head and just says "witch senses", the words flowering beautifully across Changkyun’s charmed board as jooheon settles down with his own cup, AND FLOWERS TOTALLY RESPOND WELL TO HIS TOUCH AND IT WORDS SO NATURALLY HE JUST STICKS TO THAT AREA

Like turning up their faces just subtly everytime he walks by, Responding naturally to him and it's very easy for him to use flowers, more so than any other material

Ck would totally be able to see all this sitting at a table and he's just so lovestruck watching the flowers crowd adoringly for Jooheon's attention, Omg what if he usually makes packages of homemade tea with some simple spells integrated to help w sleep or relaxation, Yeeeesssssss but they work really well so he has a good customer base

And also KIHYUN helps design an online page and process Orders

And takes a ton of sample photos to put up on the page

Also in the like about section there's a cute pic of jooheon doing a peace sign w muddy fingers next to some flowers and that's like the only pic of him ever, And there’s definitely an online group dedicated to his tea, like freaking out when a new sample comes out

And also like screaming about how there's only one pic of him but definitely a confirmed cutie bc there handwritten notes that are shaky and messy but super sweet in every package

Ok but like what if minhyuk was blessed w the gift of visual arts so of course he draws

But he also loves running his aesthetic blog and he posts artsy pics of his drawings and cafes and shit

And like one day there's a pic of him and at the corner is boy with softly curled hair and a pink sweater, facemask pulled below his chin as he cups both hands around his cup of coffee, sipping it through a straw as he looks blankly to the side, And his fans are like ???!?!?! And someone is LIKE OH FUCK THAT’S JOOHEON YO

And then minhyuk’s secretly laughing about how adorable jooheon looks and didn't know he took a pic

When his phone suddenly is just like blowing up w alerts, And jooheon sighs "hyung please check your alerts"

And minhyuk is like wtf is going on

And he's getting DM s like

OMFG THATS JOOHEON

YOU KNOW JOOHEON?

PLEASE POST MORE WITH JOOHEON

And then minhyuk Fits the phone against Jooheon's palm, And jooheon can feel the phone continuously vibrating like not stopping at all and he's like "hyung what's going on"

And minhyuk just chuckles at the lost look on his face and says "my followers love you"

And it's the 2nd time he's only ever seen jooheon this red

Followed only by the first time minhyuk had teased him about that new delivery boy and his oh so deep voice, And so jooheon face bursts into flames as he squeaks out "what!!?" before snatching his hand away and desperately sucking at his coffee adamantly ignoring minhyuks guffaws

jh would have this phone case

When Jooheon gets knees deep in fresh spring earth he of course has to change into more suitable clothes. He doesn’t actually know the material or (ha) color of those nice sweaters Minhyuk always forces him to buy, but they’re beautifully soft against his skin. He wants to keep them that way, and as much as he loves the press of wet dirt under his fingers, his sweaters probably wouldn’t appreciate it to the same degree.

So one day Changkyun comes on his usual delivery route, and there’s a note left in Jooheon’s blocky script, I’m out back! with a round creature resembling a bee drawn at the bottom. He finds the witch completely kneeled on the ground on all fours, dressed in tight leggings and a black hoodie, as he digs at an already significantly deep hole. He taps lightly on the ground with his foot, alerting Jooheon of his presence.

“Changkyun?” Jooheon immediately looks up, eyes blindly flickering towards his general direction. The delivery boy hums lowly and taps again in affirmation, and Jooheon’s smile widens even more, eyes crinkling shut into thin slits, the indents of dimples forming like two shadowed ponds on his cheeks.

Once he’s sure of the right person, the witch turns back to the task at hand, fumbling for the shovel as he starts digging again. The pit’s deep enough Jooheon has to sink his upper body forward, raising his lower half in the air in a meager attempt to keep balance. Changkyun’s eyes are inevitably drawn to his pert bottom, tightly clad in leggings he’s never seen before.

He shuffles over and sits down next to Jooheon, clearing his throat as he prepares to speak. “I’ve never seen you wear this before,” he comments casually as Jooheon pauses to pay attention to his words. “That’s right,” the witch ponders, and the shape of his mouth corresponding with the letters scrawling across Changkyun’s charmed board. “I don’t usually wear this kind of….” he grimaces, searching for the right word, “tight clothing?”

He sighs, ruffling dirt crusted fingers in his hair and Changkyun watches, scrutinizing as the wet earth sticks adamantly to shining locks. Their disabilities make them sensitive towards certain forms of contact, and brushing the other’s cheeks clean of dried earth would definitely be a violation of Jooheon’s comfort zone. He keeps his fingers clenched and still against his lap.

“My friends alway watch out for me, bringing me clothing and such. This one,” he gestures at the lycra stretching over his legs, “was from a friend who modeled for an exercise brand. I guess he thought he would send me some to try…” He plucks at the fabric, letting it snap back against his skin, laughing nervously. “It’s not really my kind of thing, well as much as possible to figure out what “my thing” is, but at least it's good for dirty labor?”

Changkyun laughs at his vaguely apologetic expression, the sentence ending itself on his board with a question mark, and he nods sagely in response, tapping once to show his agreement. “You look, you look good.” he forces out, his voice catching tightly in the middle. He doesn’t need to look at his board to understand Jooheon’s reply, all of it completely apparent in the pink in his cheeks and the “o” of his mouth before fumbling quickly into a “thank you.”

Like "you look amazing in pink" and jooheon sighs "I don't know what it even looks like" and minhyuk just flounders to describe it "it's just light, and soft, and....pink??" He ends up stubbornly pushing a pile.of sweaters into Jooheon's hands anyway

Maybe like cursed when he was still in the womb or smth

Cause eventually I want like a scene where he and Changkyun are hanging and he just realizes how happy and comfortable he is w the other and he blinks

And the next moment piercing rays are flooding his eyes and it hurts so much he hides his face in his hands as tears leak out uncontrollably

I need a good reason for why he got that kind of curse put on him tho

Then he gets to match a voice to a face when Changkyun urgently asks, "are you okay"?" leaning over to grasp his wrists

Pink lips pressed into a worried line and almond eyes gazing directly into his own tear stained ones, jooheon can't help but cry even harder

Changkyun flails in panic, wrapping an arm around his back, trying to soothe him as he asks again "what's wrong?"

His board stays empty for a few moments more before they fill with 3 words that leave him perfectly stunned

“I can see.”

Changkyun immediately goes to draw away, some part of him panicking at Jooheon's newfound sight

But the witch turns and immediately lunges to embrace him, both of them landing harshly against the ground as the other hides his face in changkyuns neck

I want to like do something where ck gets to hear like they're made for each other and them being together breaks it but hmmmmm. Changkyun stays still, relaxing his body as Jooheon shakes against him. His neck is wet with tears and its soaking through to his jacket, but he only pulls the other man closer to himself, wrapping both of his arms around the other's middle. Suddenly, something is filtering into his brain, the ever static silence interrupted by pin pricks of hiccuped cries. It can't be, he panics, hands leaving Jooheon's middle to cup around his ears. He can hear the echo of sound against his palms, and curls up, completely overwhelmed. Jooheon sits up confused at the sudden shift of the body below him, and sees with his newfound sight, Changkyun's face scrunched in pain as he turns away from him. Jooheon hurriedly wipes away the gathered moisture, before leaning over to shadow over Changkyun's prone form. “Changkyun, Changkyun-ah! What happened?” He whispers urgently, completely forgetting the other’s charmed board. Neither of them realize it for a moment, when Changkyun looks up at him, comprehension immediate in his eyes.

“I...I can hear,” he stutters, hands dropping incredulously as a world of sounds flood through his ears; the chirp of birds, the whistle of the wind, but most importantly Jooheon’s shocked gasp as he sits up, toppling back onto the ground.

The witch presses a hand over his mouth, muffling any other sounds that could unwillingly escape his throat. It’s silent between them, but for Changkyun it’s more than he’s ever heard all his life.

Jooheon waits hesitantly, before asking as quietly as possible, “Is...is this real?” His voice, light and almost whiny, fits perfectly with the curved script that had written itself across Changkyun’s board many times.

“It,” he chokes at the low rumble of his own voice, “it is.” The shock sets in for the both of them, Jooheon still squinting furiously at all the colors and shapes passing rapidly through his retinas, and the echo of sobs still bouncing in Changkyun’s ears. They lock gazes, newfound senses tingling with every movement, and it’s not definite who moves first, but they simultaneously meet in the middle, bodies crashing in a locked embrace.

#happycakewrites

0 notes