#do you see my vision. i talked about this in discord weeks ago but never made a post even though this is so funny | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part Six. Movies and Speedruns

warnings: swearing, many memes word count: 3.8k (not including pictures) (wow okay ash pop off!)

behind the screen (irl!dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: LETS ALL JUST AGREE TO NOT LOOK AT THE DATES ON TWEETS AND STUFF BC SOME CHAPTERS ARE SO SCUFFED WITH DATES!!!! JUST KNOW THIS STORY STARTS MID NOVEMBER!!!!!!!! (in a world where covid doesn’t exist btw)

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Unknowingly and unintentionally, Y/n let out a big sigh as she poured a glass of water.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" Naomi asked gently, coming up behind her and hugging her tightly.

"Peter."

Naomi hummed, a sign that she was waiting for Y/n to lead the conversation so she could follow because if it were up to Naomi, she would immediately start trash-talking Peter and she wasn't sure if that was the vibe right now or not.

Y/n shook her head in disbelief as she jumped up to sit on the counter. "He got so mad when he found out I slept over at Karl's."

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I wish you would just cut him off completely."

"I don't know. I know I should but... part of me wonders if he could ever go back to how he was when I met him. I would probably date that guy again but not who he turned out to be."

Naomi looked horrified. "No. You sound like you're considering hearing him out. No, is that a joke? He's a bad person."

"I'm not," Y/n reassured. "I'm just thinking hypothetically. Probably because I miss having someone..."

"Y/n, you have a ton of thirsty people in your mentions. If you really want someone that bad, just scroll through, land on one and I bet they're a million times better than that sack of burned potatoes."

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled lightly. "Most of those are jokes."

"Not all of them," she teased.

"I know you're going to tell me anyway so just say it. Who specifically do you think isn't joking?"

"Dream," Naomi sang.

"Okay, crazy." Y/n reached over, staying seated on the counter as she grabbed a bowl from a cabinet on her left. She then leaned all the way right, reaching as far as she could, but couldn't quite grab a cereal box from the top of the refrigerator.

Naomi rolled her eyes as she helped, handing Y/n the box. She even went the extra step to get Y/n a spoon and the milk because she was that nice. "I'm not joking. Neither is he. Karl and I have talked about it and we both agree."

Y/n paused at her friend's words, her hand hovering over the milk that Naomi held out for her. "You guys gossip about my love life?"

Naomi set the milk next to Y/n, tired of holding it out for her. "Of course? Like we don't do that about Karl? Or you and him about me?"

She couldn't argue there.

"Karl says there's a different vibe from Dream when you join calls and I believe it. I mean, I've seen it during streams myself so I can only imagine how much more obviously in love with you he is during private calls.

"That 'vibe' is Karl's delusional mind creating things. He's too scared to talk to cameragirl so he's projecting onto Dream and I."

"Yeah, okay," Naomi agreed sarcastically.

Y/n huffed. "Besides, he's in Florida. I'm in North Carolina, in case you weren't aware."

"So you're saying if you lived in the same state, you'd date him?"

"I didn't say that." She honestly had never thought of it. Sure she liked hanging out with Dream and her stomach got butterflies when he talked directly to her and he made her smile harder than anyone ever had and he—

And she didn't like him like that. She had only officially met the guy like a week and a half ago and she didn't know what he looked like. There was no way you could catch feelings for someone without seeing them.

Naomi's expression fell again. "Distance doesn't matter, anyway."

"I swear if you say something about George I will slap you," she threatened through a smile and Naomi gave her an innocent grin back.

"If you're lonely, get on Tinder, not Peter. Or get on Dream. I have no qualms with that."

"Peter isn't even an option, Naomi." Y/n sighed, ignoring the comment about Dream. "Also," she swallowed the last of her cereal and set the bowl down with a clank. "I'm gonna tell Peter I don't want to be friends anymore. Dream and George can be added to the list of Peter haters."

"You talked to them about it?"

She nodded. "You know how I have little gossip sessions with George? Well, Dream was there too this time."

"Well, of course Dream would hate Peter. We've established that he likes you."

"No, no, you and Karl delusionally hypothesized that."

Naomi tapped the counter methodically, a sign Y/n knew to signal that she was thinking hard. "Somehow, one day, I'll prove he does."

"Good luck."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"Yes," Y/n perked up. "Go pick something, I'll get blankets."

She went to her room, grabbing her favorite cuddling blankets. She started leaving her room when she heard a ding on her open desktop, signaling that she had a call incoming from Discord. Cool timing.

"I'll be just a second, Naomi!" she called across the house before dropping the blankets on her bed and sliding her headset on, answering the call from Dream. "Hi, Dream!" She sat on her chair and tucked her knees to her chest.

"Hi," he greeted sweetly. "How are you doing today?"

"Much better than when we last talked. How are you?"

"Great now that I'm talking to you," he said smoothly. Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "Are you busy?"

"Unfortunately, yes. My roommate and I are about to watch a movie."

"Ooh, what movie?"

"Not sure yet. Any suggestions?"

"Dark Knight. Unless you wanted me to say, like, Tangled or something."

"Yeah, girls' night is exclusively princess movies. Do you know nothing?"

"Apparently," he said with a laugh.

"What's up?"

"Oh, well, I was just gonna see if you wanted to be on call later with me, George, and Sapnap while I stream speedruns, but you're hanging out with your roommate so nevermind."

"Oh," Y/n deflated. "That sounds fun."

"I can push it back if you want to be part of it. If not, that's fine. I just thought it would be cool."

"No, no, no I really do want to, but I don't want you to have to push it back. When were you planning on starting?"

"In about an hour."

"I'll just join later if you're still playing. If that's okay that I come late."

"No. You have to be on time or not at all," he joked. "Of course that's fine," he assured. "And if I'm not playing anymore, you can still join... we usually talk for forever after we play games and it's fun. I would, er, we would love for you to hang out with us."

Y/n couldn't help the large smile on her face from staying even after they hung up and she walked back into the living room with her pile of blankets. She couldn't help it even when Naomi pointed it out and asked why she was so happy.

"Oh, uh, I've been invited to join Dream and them later for a stream."

"That vague answer doesn't warrant the shit-eating grin you have."

Y/n shrugged and cuddled more into her blankets. "What movie did you pick?"

*****

As the end credits rolled across the screen, Y/n yawned and looked over to Naomi in the dark. She was out like a light. Y/n stood up and made sure Naomi was covered in the blanket and she had a pillow. She crept back to her room and slid her headphones on, pulling up Discord where she saw the three boys' names still in a voice call.

She pulled up Twitch on her second monitor and looked for Dream's stream. It was already about an hour in. She clicked on it and her headphones echoed with the sound of George and Sapnap laughing like they said the funniest thing in the world.

"Shut up," Dream muttered. "Guys, what were the coords for the portal? Seriously, come on."

"Nobody tell him," George joked.

"George!"

"Where's Bugsyyyy?" Sapnap whined. "I want her to make fun of you with us."

"Half the stuff we're making fun of him for is about his big fat crush on her so..."

"George!" Dream yelled again. "No, it's not!"

Y/n smiled as she heard that, knowing it was a joke but laughing at the way Dream laughed at the accusation. She knew it wasn't serious or else they wouldn't talk about it on stream. George and Sapnap teased a lot, but certainly, they wouldn't out someone's crush in front of a hundred thousand viewers live.

"Oh!" Sapnap spoke out loud as George laughed loudly, both reading the text at the same time. "Speaking of..."

Dream waited for either of the two boys to elaborate but neither of them offered one. "What happened?"

"Bugsy texted us," George said off-handedly, typing a response to her. "She's coming in a second."

"Oh."

"What do you mean 'oh'?" Sapnap laughed.

"You guys have a groupchat?"

"Aw, jealous?" George asked.

Y/n joined at that moment, the first sentence coming from her Discord instead of Twitch being from Sapnap saying, "Would it make you more jealous to know our group name is Bugsy's Boys?"

"No, Sapnap, that's the one with Karl," George corrected. "The one with just you, me, and her is Bugsy's Boyfriends."

"WhAT?"

"I still don't approve of that, by the way," Y/n commented.

"Bugsy!!" Sapnap giggled happily. "You're finally here!"

"BUGSY!" George cheered.

"Hi guys!" Y/n laughed at the enthusiasm she was greeted with. "Hi, Dream!"

There was a few seconds of silence before, "Dream!!" George yelled right before the death screen appeared on the Twitch tab still opened on Y/n's right screen. "You idiot, what are you doing?! Why did you throw that run??"

She covered her mouth with the hoodie collar and laughed. "Off to a great start, bud."

"NO!" Dream yelled, knocking something, or somethings, off his desk. "Noooo! I didn't throw it, George, I FELL! Oh, that was going to be such a good run."

"What happened? How did you miss that huge ravine?" George asked while laughing. "It was literally right in the open. You didn't even try to use your water bucket."

"I-I was... I was distracted."

"By what? The completely open field with nothing blocking your vision?" Sapnap criticized with a laugh as well.

Y/n giggled to herself before letting her eyes trail to his chat, which was filled with the same accusations and guesses.

user5: BUGSY!

user2: DISTRACTED BY BUGSYS VOICE

user4: imagine saying hi so cutely that you make a man fall into a ravine

user1: are they dumb? obviously bugsy saying hi made his brain short-circut

user6: guys stop it wasn't bc she said hi. it was the g i g g l e

user3: DISTRACTED BY BUGSY!!!!

user8: HI BUGSY

user10: how to kill a man: hire bugsy to giggle and say hi directly to him

Y/n immediately blushed and covered her face again. She really had a habit of hiding even when no one could see her.

"Oh my gosh," Dream groaned, leaving the world and starting a new one. "Oh. My. Gosh. That's so annoying. I was doing so good."

"Oh," Sapnap laughed. "I understand now."

"What? What did I miss?" George asked.

"Just read chat," Sapnap explained. "They have the answer. Dream, your chat is so smart. Thanks for solving the mystery, chat!"

"No, they aren't ri— that isn't true!" Dream defended. "Chat, shut up."

"You sure?" Y/n asked teasingly, watching as his character paused when she started talking. Was she really making him this flustered just by talking? Surely not. He was just playing into the joke. He continued playing without saying anything, which made George and Sapnap laugh more.

The subject eventually changed and the atmosphere quickly became more relaxed and chill. Tonight was not a feral night like George had texted in all caps.

"Hey George," Y/n started, biting on her hoodie string with a smile because she knew Naomi would hear this when she watched the VOD the next day. "My roommate says hello."

"Oh my gosh," he muttered, making her laugh. "Let it go."

"Wow, I guess that's one way to treat your fans..."

"Fine," he sighed. "Tell her I say hello."

"Well, not if you don't mean it," Y/n teased.

"Yeah, George, you sound so unenthusiastic?" Sapnap asked.

"He's just flustered," Dream commented. "It's okay George, you can have feelings."

"Dream, you fell into a ravine because Bugsy said hi."

"Oh, come on! That's not—I just— I missed the jump! That's it!"

"I'm not flustered or unenthusiastic, I'm just tired, okay?" George explained, ignoring Dream, a yawn spilling out of him to prove it.

Y/n smiled. "Well, you could always let me give her your number if you really want..."

"No. If she had Discord you could give her that but not my phone number."

"Wait, really?" Y/n gasped. "Seriously?"

George laughed lightly. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"YES! Okay, a huge win for the girls. Well, a huge loss for the fangirls but a huge win for the girls of this apartment."

"Oh my gosh," he muttered and she could practically see him rubbing his face in embarrassment.

"I'll send you her hashtag when she makes one so you know who to add back."

"She's going to make an account just to talk to George?" Sapnap giggled.

"Yes, dude!" Y/n defended. "She at least wants to be his friend, let her shoot her shot!"

Dream ended the steam soon after, not being able to focus enough to beat the end on any of his runs. He had streamed for just under two hours so he seemed to be getting tired as well. George went to bed soon after and after 20 minutes of talking with Sapnap and Dream, Sapnap mysteriously disappeared.

Y/n was about to leave as well, not wanting Dream to feel obligated to stay on the call with her when he spoke up.

"Does Naomi actually like George?"

"Yeah, she does."

"Then I want him to accept her love."

Y/n laughed. "How is he with long-distance relationships?"

"Well, he and I do just fine..." Dream joked. "Oh, not what you meant. I don't know, you guys are the ones that talk about each other's love lives apparently."

"You're still bitter about that?"

"Yes!"

"Suck it up," she laughed. "Naomi would do probably anything to date him so I doubt distance is a problem for her."

"George's sleep schedule is completely messed up, so the time difference wouldn't matter too much. And when he comes to America they can meet in person."

"Wait, he's coming to America?" Y/n gasped happily. "When?"

"There's no set date, but yeah eventually. He'll probably just come to Florida but we've all talked about having a huge meetup with a lot of our friends."

"Oh... cool..."

"Bug? You know you'd be invited to that, right?"

"Oh, really?" she smiled.

"Of course. You're part of the group now."

"Sick," she muttered to herself, but he heard.

"Bug, you're one of my favorite people, do you know that?"

She blushed. "Really?"

"Really."

"You barely know me, Dream."

"Yeah, well, I know enough to know that I'm sorta attached to you."

"Attached to me? In what way?"

He suddenly sounded nervous as if his brain caught up with what his mouth was saying. "I don't know, nevermind."

"No, Dream, what do you mean?" her voice was soft and understanding and it made him feel safe.

"I just... I don't know. I care about you a lot. We met only, what, like a week or two ago, and I already worry about you a lot. Playing games doesn't feel the same anymore unless you're playing with us."

"To be fair, we have been tweeting at each other for much longer than a week or two."

"Yeah, that's true. But it's not the same as actually talking to you."

She smiled shyly. "I care about you a lot too, Clay." His name sounded strange as if it suddenly made everything much more serious. "Sorry, that just kinda slipped. I won't call you Clay if you don't want me to—"

"No, it's okay, it, uh, I like hearing you... say it. But, uh, you can call me whatever you want."

She smiled widely at the nervousness in his voice and the hard pounding of her heart. "I've heard from multiple people that you never stop talking about me."

He laughed timidly. "Maybe. Do you talk about me?"

"Ask Karl," she giggled. "My guess is yes." Her stomach felt tingly and her hands shook lightly. Why did she feel like this all of a sudden? It was late, she reasoned. That, or it was because Naomi had planted the seed of curiosity in her mind. Did Dream like her? No... right?

"I'm sorry if my chat was making you uncomfortable at the beginning when I died..."

"Don't worry, I wasn't uncomfortable."

"It was true, by the way," he paused, "what they were saying. Just... in case you were wondering."

Y/n couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which was growing painful at this point. "What, my voice makes your brain short-circut? That was one comment I saw."

Dream laughed. "More like your entire presence, but... yeah I guess so."

How is someone supposed to respond to something like that? The sweetness in his voice almost made her sick but in a good way.

And just like when he named her Minecraft flower something sweet knowing that no one would see it, why was he still playing up the joke when no one was around?

Not knowing what to say, she decided to let him in on a little secret. "If it matters, you're one of my favorite people too."

"It does."

There was a deathly moment of tense silence as if both of them were screaming to say something but neither did.

"Basically, if we do have a meet-up, I'll sue you if you don't come."

Y/n laughed. "My pockets are empty, sir, so... good luck."

He laughed and it was music to her ears.

"Are you not nervous to show everyone your face? Like, if or when we do all get together."

"Not really. Especially not if it's just to our friends. Are you?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Why?"

She sighed. "I'm sure people have me painted in a specific way in their heads and I've seen fanart of me that is way different and way more attractive than I am. I just don't want to let anyone down by not living up to their expectations."

"Bug," Dream said softly, "you couldn't let anyone down."

"You don't know that."

"You can't disappoint real friends or real fans with the way you look."

"To be clear, Dream," she laughed nervously, afraid she would sound conceited, "I don't think I'm ugly. I like the way I look. I'm happy with me. But that doesn't mean I can't still let people down."

"Different than expected doesn't mean disappointing."

His words smacked her in the gut. He was right. Reality and imagination are very different. Neither has to be better or worse than the other. She could look the complete opposite of how someone expects but that doesn't mean they will be either disappointed OR pleased. And why does it matter anyway? If she likes how she looks, who cares what other people think?

"It's also scary to think of getting recognized in public," she admitted. "Being recognized from the start is one thing because it starts off slowly with only a few people knowing your face but if the first time people see your face is when you have millions of fans, the recognition would be overwhelming."

"That's true. I don't think I would mind that much, though."

"Of course not, you're you."

"What does that mean?"

"You like the spotlight."

"I guess. Not all the time."

"Well, what about you?" she asked. "Are you afraid of people knowing what you look like?"

"No. I want to do a face reveal soon but I don't know how I would do it. I want to do it at some kind of event or something but I don't know."

"I need to schedule around when you do it because you'll break the internet. Give us content creators a warning so we can prepare to not get viewers for a week."

Dream laughed. "Oh come on."

"Twitter would just be full of the same picture of you in every single tweet."

"It won't be that big of a deal."

"Something tells me your millions and millions of subs say otherwise."

"Whatever," he said. "As if you wouldn't break the internet too."

"Maybe for a day or two. But you'd break everything for weeks."

"Sure." There was a long pause before Dream softly said, "Karl's lucky."

"How so?"

He didn't speak for a moment, almost like he wasn't prepared for that question because he didn't mean to be heard. "I wish I could know you the way he does."

"You could. He and I knew each other in person first so it's different. You and I could get there eventually."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I trust you a scary amount for someone I met weeks ago."

"I didn't mean to sound like I'm trying to pressure you into showing me your face or telling me your name. I didn't mean like he gets to know what you look like and I don't. I meant, like, I wish we could hang out in person because I prefer that over talking in Discord."

"I get it, Clay. I feel the same way," Y/n said softly. There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again.

"Oh, gosh, it's already four."

Y/n's head snapped to look at her clock, which read 3:57am. "Already?" she whispered. "Dang."

As if acknowledging the time changed the atmosphere, it suddenly felt like 4am. Her back ached from her shifting in her chair so much over the last few hours, never being able to find a good position. The house was eerily quiet and all she heard was the low hum of the heater. The house felt stale, not used to its occupants being so alert and awake at that hour.

"I should probably go to bed..."

"Yeah, me too," Dream agreed. His voice sounded tired. "Thanks for joining us, it was really fun with you."

"Thanks for inviting me. Sorry I made you die. Hopefully you'll still let me back again."

"You're always invited to barge into my streams. Actually."

Y/n giggled again and mentally slapped herself for sounding like a little kid. "Well, you too. You can interrupt my streams anytime."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Goodnight, Clay."

"Goodnight, Bug."

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#rpf #real person fic #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcty x reader #mcyt x y/n #clay x reader #smau #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #social media au

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plsimsuchasimp · 3 years

Text

gone (cheating ft. kenma)

an anon asked me to write another version of this post, so here it is. i’m sorry about this, it’s definitely not my best work.

request: “Can you do another cheating fic but with kenma since he is my favorite character”

genre: angst

ft: kenma kozume x gn reader, a little bit of kuroo tetsuro

wc: 1.8k

warnings: fainting, angst, implied cheating

Flopping down on your bed, you picked up your phone and shot off a quick text message to your boyfriend, Kenma.

“hey babe, can we call? it’s been a really long week and I haven’t seen you in forever,” you wrote, pressing the send button with only a moment’s hesitation.

Sighing, you scrolled upwards a bit, reading through the message history. Recently, his texts had been getting shorter and more abrupt, often making excuses when you asked to see him or talk to him.

1 new message. Distracted, you scrolled down to see Kenma’s text.

“sorry can’t i was just about to sleep”

Frowning, you glanced at the top of the screen. 10:53 pm. He never went to bed this early, let alone slept. Your throat constricted, but you tried to brush it off, the thoughts whispering at the back of your head like malicious pixies, insecurities and harsh words. You stared at the simple string of words, wondering what to say. Are you okay? you’ve seemed off recently. No, you were probably just overthinking it.

“okay, have a good night! ily” Read 10:57 pm. No response.

Putting the phone down, you tried to push it to the back of your thoughts, but it nagged at you. Turning on your PC, you logged onto discord and noticed Kenma’s status. He was playing a multiplayer game, in a VC with one other person. Right-clicking, you ignored the feeling of distrust and clicked on the other player’s profile.

You knew her- she was a friend of Kenma’s from school. Kenma had promised you they were just friends, that you had nothing to worry about, but the insecurities crept in again as you realized he’d been spending a lot more time with her instead of you. Biting your lip, you looked back at your phone, the accusing text glaring at you. It seemed innocuous, seemed like you were overreacting. Kenma didn’t really get why you were insecure- he always told you he only had eyes for you, but lately, it didn’t really feel like it.

The last time you two had hung out, he’d laughed at something on his phone, then turned away when you asked to see what it was, muttering something vague about a funny tiktok. You didn’t think much of it at the time, but with thoughts crowding your head, you wondered if it really had been just a video. Kozume had always been distant- you understood that when you started dating him, but was it too much to ask for a scrap of his attention?

You were torn. On one hand, you wanted to trust Kenma, believe that everything he told you was true and he still loved you like he used to. On the other, your gut was telling you there was something off. Praying that he wasn’t hiding anything, you entered a different browser and logged into his Discord account. You’d given each other the passwords to your socials a while ago, your way of showing that you had nothing to hide.

Incorrect login information. The words appeared in red on the screen, the password field outlined in red. You tried again, ensuring that there were no typos, and it still registered as wrong. Your stomach sank, staring at the message on the screen. He changed his password and didn’t tell you. At this point, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t want to ask him in fear of seeming insecure or clingy, both traits Kenma disliked. Before you could lose yourself further in the swirling tornado of your thoughts, your phone dinged with a new message. It was from Kuroo.

“hey y/n, are you up? we need to talk.”

Brow furrowing, you responded with “yeah, is everything okay?” He read the text, and then the call icon rang at the top of the screen, red and green buttons buzzing gently. You accepted the call, answering with “Hi Kuroo.”

“Hey y/n,” he said, his voice quieter than normal.

“Are you okay?” He sounded off, sad somehow.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. There’s something I need to tell you, though.” You paused for a second, hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was, before he continued. “Kenma- Kenma cheated on you.”

“W-what?” Time seemed to stop. you couldn’t, didn’t want to believe your ears. Your breath caught in your throat, shock freezing your body in place.

“Shit, y/n, I’m so sorry. I just found out.” Kuroo was still talking, but you weren’t hearing him. It seemed impossible, even though you’d seen it coming. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

Startled, you choked out, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little shocked.” a little was an understatement. “H-how did you find out?”

“Well,” he sighed, “I saw him kiss her behind the cafe yesterday. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was still figuring out what to do.” Guilt laced his words, and you got the feeling there was still something he hadn’t said.

“What else?” From his slight intake of breath, you could tell you’d caught him off guard. He was silent for a moment.

“He’s been texting her on Discord for the past month or so. I think you know her, (f/n)?” You felt your heart crash into your stomach, and your worst fears were confirmed. Switching back onto your computer, you saw that Kenma was still playing the game with the girl, and your stomach clenched.

“Yeah, I know her.” He noticed that your voice was quiet, subdued, and he swallowed.

“Y/n, I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” He was silent then, waiting for you to speak.

“No, no, it’s fine,” You said, your voice oddly calm. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course. Hey, are you going to be okay?” He asked, unsure what was really happening inside your head.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Before he had a chance to say anything else, you hung up, mind spinning.

Oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything. You knew in the back of your head that this was your way of coping, that the hurt and anger and sadness would come later, but for now you didn’t care. Methodically, you went to all of your socials and blocked Kenma, hesitating only slightly to block his number in your phone.

You shut off your computer and turned your phone to silent, sitting in silence on your bed. Slowly, your eyes filled with tears that spilled down your cheeks, expressionless besides the gleaming tear streaks staining your face. Your shoulders shook, and everything seemed to crash down at once.

Your body couldn’t keep up, the sobs overtaking you until you were lightheaded. The room was spinning and the shining moonlight was glinting through the blinds at odd angles, seeming to distort your vision. You couldn’t breathe, and then everything faded to black.

You woke up a few seconds later with your head on the pillow, dazed and hearing the blood pound through your head. You groaned and lay there for a couple of minutes, letting your breathing slow.

You got up and brushed your teeth, staring at your puffy eyes in the mirror. It hurt, to know the man you loved didn’t feel the same anymore. What did you do wrong? Were you too clingy, not good enough, not there for him enough? Why would he cheat on you?

Guilt vibrated around you, and it brought back the memories of every other time. It must have been your fault- it always was.

Sleep took you uneasily that night, creeping in around your obsessive, painful thoughts and lulling you to distraction.

The next morning at school, you wiped the pain from your face and moved through the day in a haze. You saw Kenma in the hallway, leaning against the lockers on his phone, and avoided eye contact. When you saw her, (f/n), anger and hurt swelled up in your stomach, and you tried to swallow it and avoid lashing out.

Later, Kenma stared at his phone as an error message popped up when he tried to text you. We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is unavailable. A pit formed in his stomach, and he went to his other socials, reaching the same conclusions in other places.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, amber eyes scanning the hallway. You were already gone, though, and he moved through the swarm of people, eyes focused on the exit. Where would you have gone?

When he showed up at your house that afternoon, you were surprised. He doesn’t waste time, showing you his phone and bluntly asking “Why did you block me?” Your eyes widened to see him slouching there, clearly uncomfortable with going out of his way to do this. “Are you angry at me?”

“Kozume, I don’t really want to talk to you right now.” His face twisted at your use of his last name.

“Why not?”

At this point, you sighed, tired of everything. “You cheated on me. That’s why.” Your voice cracks in the last sentence, and the world stops.

His stomach drops as you turn away, the weight of the world on your shoulders. “N-no. Y/n. Please don’t go!”

Kenma’s not good with words, and you understand that. Sometimes, though, it feels like he’s not trying. As he shook his head frantically, chin-length hair swaying around his beautiful face, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he can’t.

“What is there to say, Kozume?” Your eyes were brimming with tears, your heart squeezing at the sight of him.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.” Even he knows how weak this sounds, how pathetic of him, and when he looks back up at you, his eyes are shiny. “I love you.”

His words ring hollow, and you scoff. “Where was that love when you kissed her behind the cafe? Where was it when you were constantly texting her on discord? Where was it when I needed you and you weren’t there?” You shake your head, heartbreak written all over your features. It’s then that he remembers the declined calls, the unanswered texts, the neglect he subjected you to as he pushed you away.

“I hope you’re happy with her, because we’re done.”

He didn’t even have a good reason this time. All he knew was that he wanted you to stay, but he knew he didn’t deserve a second chance. Against his will, a tear slid down his cheek and dropped to the floor, making him sniffle.

There was nothing you wanted more than to pull him into your arms, cry into his shoulder, but you couldn’t. It hurt too much. You stepped back and slammed the door on him for the final time.

Leaning your head against the door, all of your emotions spilled out. You were silently crying, the ache in your chest almost too much to bear. You thought you heard your name outside the door, whispered just loud enough for you to hear, but you just sank down to the floor and let the tears fall.

On the other side of the door, Kenma’s phone buzzed. It was a text from her, and the disgust and anger that filled his stomach at the sight was enough for him to know he’d never forgive himself for hurting you like this.

“I love you.”

a/n: srry for the anticlimatic ending i was just feeling super bad and not in the mood to write but i wanted to get this out here, hope you like it.

#kenma kuzome #kenma x y/n #kenma x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #kozume kenma #kenma angst #angst #kozume angst #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kozume

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

More than just a game

Warnings: dark elements including noncon and rape, oral, fingering, doxxing, stalking, and other explicit content.

This is dark!Jake Jensen and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find a new gaming buddy but he sees you as more than that.

Note: So this is my first Jake Jensen fic and it was lots of fun so let me know what you think and hope you enjoy. :D

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Special shout-out to @navybrat817 for helping me with this idea

After too many nights scrolling through subreddits and searching for something to keep you distracted, you decided to bite the hook. Several other redditors agreed to hop on Minecraft and it had been a while since you logged in. You missed the almost relaxing ritual of mining and building.

You joined the chat, quick to hit the little microphone emblem as you listened to the voices in your headset. You learned long ago to keep your mic muted on the servers, especially with strangers. The last time you dared to speak up as a woman in a game chat, your DMs had become so overwhelmed you deleted and started a new account on Discord and changed your ID on Steam.

You were all given your tasks as players called out coordinates and you kept to chopping up the side of a mountain. You mostly worked alone, chatting through text instead of voice chat. As you placed a crafting table in your little mine, another player, JJ-Smooth, popped up and dropped some iron for you.

He stayed close but you didn’t mind. A lot of players tried to work together the deeper they got and you were used to it. As you uncovered some lava, he dumped water before you could get burned and helped you hack up the obsidian.

He thanked you on the voice chat but you knew any courtesy in return would earn you the attention of the entire server. So you dropped some gold for him and went on your way.

“I hear a zombie,” he warned.

You turned to hack up the undead before it could get you, only to be shot by a skeleton hidden on the next level. Another appeared and you died before you could hide, the bony villain killed by your ally as you watched your possession scatter over the death screen.

“Hey, I got your stuff,” he said as you loaded back up, “I’ll find you.”

You typed quickly in the chat, ‘sorry, mic busted, give me your coordinates and I’ll come to you.’

You waited as ‘JJ-Smooth is typing…’ appeared at the bottom and finally he sent the numbers. You hopped over the blocky hills and through the forests until you found the mine again. He was just outside and handed over all your tools and ration. He headed back into the mine and you followed him. This time, you began your own path in the opposite direction.

Before you knew it, you’d lost track of time. You sat back as you realised it was only you and JJ on the server. The silence should have tipped you off earlier. He was the host and you felt super awkward for staying so long. You typed that you were logging off for the night and thanked him.

You hit the keyboard with your knuckle and yawned as you opened the screen,

“God, it’s late,” you muttered.

“Hello?” he said.

Your eyes rounded as you looked at the mic symbol and the lack of red line made you cringe. You’d hit an extra button without noticing.

“Um, hi, sorry, I just--”

“Mic busted, huh?” he asked.

“No, I--” you didn’t know what to say, “anyways, I should--”

“So, you’re a chick? Is that why you mute?”

“Uh, well, it’s just… easier, sorry, I--” even if you weren’t trying to hide from gamer dudes, you weren’t the best at conversation.

“A gamer girl, nice,” he said and you sighed, “sorry, that sounded weird, didn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” you touched your bottom lip as you cupped your chin, “it’s late, I have to work tomorrow.”

“You comin’ back?” he asked, almost hopeful.

“I don’t know--”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said abruptly, “promise, lips sealed.”

“I really don’t know if I can do this too much, I usually work early mornings so… yeah,” you said.

“I get it but you know you’re always welcome, hope you don’t mind if I send you an invite now and then. No pressure,” he offered.

“Uh, sure,” you shrugged, “okay, yeah, good night.”

You left the chat quickly and pulled off your headset. Shit.

‘I’m Jake by the way,’ a pm popped up, ‘gg.’

You typed back, ‘gg, it was fun’ and quickly logged out. You sat back and rubbed your eyes. Well, he didn’t seem like a total creep, maybe just a bit awkward but so were you. You shut down for the night and stretched out as you switched off the lamp. You were going to pay for your session in the morning.

🎮

A few nights later you got an invite to the server. You debated it but as it was Friday, you decided to make good use of the PC you’d saved up forever to build. You spawned in the middle of nowhere and built a bed before you found the half-finished settlement. You joined the chat but you must have been early as you were the only one there.

You headed back to the same mine, some work done since the first night, and laid your torches as you ventured into the depths. You jumped in your seat as a voice broke your peace.

“I don’t think anyone else is gonna join,” JJ-Smooth, or Jensen said, “you think maybe you’ll unmute?”

You stopped your mining and stared at the screen. You hovered over the mic button and re-read his name, he was the only other one there. You clicked and gave a strained smile to the screen.

“So, um, what’s the goal tonight?” you asked.

“Get some materials and go back to the settlement, keep building, oh, maybe we could try a portal, you ever gone to the nether?” he said but before you could reply he kept on, “shit, I shouldn’t assume, you seem like an experienced player.”

“Yeah, a few times, but I’m more a casual miner,” you went back to harvesting stone and ore.

“Ah,” he said, and it was silent for a moment, “so, you work again in the morning?”

“Not tomorrow,” you said as you focused on the game, “daycare isn’t open on the weekends.”

“A daycare, huh? That sounds fun, I love kids… not in a weird way but you know, I… urgh, I have a niece,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “nah, that’s cool though, sounds more fun than my gig.”

“Oh?” you turned and kept your axe moving.

“IT. You know, some people would be like ‘hey Jensen, why do you spend all your free time staring at a screen when that’s what you do at work?’” he scoffed, “well, who says I’m not mining there too.”

You wrinkled your forehead and gave a small laugh. He was rambling and it was kinda odd. You were happy for once not to be the strange one.

“But anyway,” he said, “I found lots of diamond over here. If we get some lapis lazuli we can build an enchanting table and get some sick armour.”

“Awesome,” you pressed your fingertips to your lip as you leaned on your elbow, “should try to head back before dark…”

“Hard to tell down here. How about you mine and I’ll keep an eye out for monsters?” he offered.

“Sure,” you agreed as he came onto your screen, “that works.”

🎮

Another week went by and you ventured back into the server a few times but not for very long as late nights did not mix with young children. The next weekend, you joined again on Saturday night and like the last few times it was just you and Jensen. You wondered why no one else was joining when the subreddit was so popular but you didn’t worry about it for long.

You mostly played in silence, Jensen did most of the talking and it was never about anything more than the game or his niece’s last soccer game. That night when you left the game, he kept typing on Discord.

‘I like playing with you,’ his message blipped up.

‘Same, thx.’

‘Really, you’re awesome.’

‘Thx :) Tired, gotta sleep.’

‘Sweet dreams.’

‘Night.’

You changed your status to offline and dragged yourself to bed. You opened your phone as you laid in the dark and went to the subreddit, you scrolled through the builds and screenshots of other people’s catastrophes.

You came to Jensen’s last invite post from that night but all the comments complained that the world code was incorrect. Hmm, you should tell him next time.

You blackened your cell and plopped it on your night table. You rolled over and buried your face in the pillow, the light still etched into your vision. You fell asleep quickly and woke the next day to another invite from Jensen.

‘How about some Fortnite? If you’re into it?’

‘Srry, can’t, my mom’s expecting me for lunch.’

‘2 bad, maybe later.’

‘Maybe’.

You got ready to go see your mother for your usual Sunday afternoon visit and it went by like any other. When she asked you what you’d been up to, you didn’t mention the gaming, she was never a fan of it. When you got back home, Jensen was messaging you again. You didn’t open the notification and settled in to catch up on some streaming before another week of work.

Monday hit you like a train and you were glad you hadn’t spent the night mining again. If you had, you doubted you’d even be able to open your eyes. You got to the daycare centre and welcomed in the kids. You got them set up for the morning snack then cleaned up as Sandy took them over to the reading circle.

You wiped the tables and then did some painting before you went out for some play time in the yard. As you watched several of the children on the swings, you glanced around. There was a man across the street. You squinted through the chain link as he seemed to be watching but assured yourself it was nothing as he quickly headed for the corner and disappeared.

Inside, the kids were due for quiet time, some napped and those who didn’t, stared at the ceiling and yawned. You could have joined them but knew that wouldn’t be acceptable. The end of the day came and you helped the kids pack up their paintings and their sweaters. You waited in the yard with them as the parents showed up and handed them off one by one.

You waved to Danika as she clung to her mother and your eye was once more drawn beyond the chain link. The same faded grey jacket, the same glasses, and the hat with the frayed brim. It was a better look at the man. Was he looking at you? Why on earth was he hanging around outside a daycare?

“Sandy,” you turned and lowered your voice as she neared, “see that man?”

She peeked over and shrugged, “which one? The guy crossing the street?”

You looked up again and like before, he was walking away casually as if he hadn’t just been staring through the fence. You shook your head and huffed. “Sorry, never mind.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she waved her fingers, “come on, let’s clean up.”

With the kids all sorted out, you went back in and tidied up the last of their mess. You and Sandy were friendly but like with any, you weren’t very talkative. You never really knew what to say but you were never unkind.

You pulled on your jacket and checked your purse for your phone and wallet. You checked the time and turned off the lights. You bid Sandy goodbye as she headed for her SUV and you took your usual route down the sidewalk towards your bus stop.

You stopped short as the man was there. You were paranoid, he must just be waiting for the same route. You approached and he turned to watch you as you sat on the bench. He smiled and the dread sank deep in your chest.

His rectangular glasses gave light to his blue eyes and a goatee trimmed his jaw. He was tall and well-built, you could tell even under his comic book tee. He was going to talk to you, another weirdo in the city.

“Hey,” his voice was chillingly familiar, “how was your day?”

You stared at him and blinked cluelessly. You looked around, it was only the two of you. You opened your mouth but you had to be wrong. He said your name and you winced.

“Jensen?” you breathed as you stood and squeezed the strap of your bag, “why? How--?”

“You weren’t answering me, I was worried,” he said, “just making sure you’re okay.”

“What the-- I don’t understand how--” He stepped closer and you backed up against the bench. “Don’t, I’ll scream.”

“Scream? Why? I’m just-- You know me, it’s me, Jensen.”

“You doxxed me?” you snapped, “what the hell?”

“No, I didn’t-- I’m just checking on you--”

“I don’t know you,” you said as your heart began to race, “so please, leave me alone,” you edged away from him, “and don’t message me again.”

You sprinted across the street and as you came up on the curb, you looked back at him. He watched you but didn’t follow. You could tell from there he wasn’t happy but the brim of his cap shadowed most of his face so you couldn’t guess if it was hurt or anger. You quickly spun away and continued down the next street to the nearest stop.

You couldn’t believe he’d just shown up like that. You couldn’t believe he would think that was okay. You couldn’t believe he’d think that much about you.

🎮

You blocked Jensen on Discord and left his world on Minecraft. That night you were shaky and nervous, afraid that he would show up at your apartment. Did he know where you lived? He must if he could figure out where you worked.

You didn’t open Steam that night. You paced your small apartment, jumping at every noise. Sleep didn’t come easily but in shallow spurts that left you even more tired. You watched over your shoulder as you walked to your stop and boarded with one eye on the door.

Work was little better as you found yourself distracted in the room full of toddlers. Sandy asked if you were okay as you kneaded play-do violently. You shook yourself out of your paranoia and assured her you were only short on sleep, not a complete lie.

You took out your phone when you stepped out for a small break. Your mom had called but you would have to get back to her when you had two hours to waste. There was another notification, that one from Discord, a friend request from JJ-NoRematch. It wasn’t hard to guess who it was and you declined it right away.

There were several others from Jensen, too. He followed your Insta, blocked; he followed your mostly empty twitter, blocked; and he even commented on your LinkedIn like a weird. You closed your phone and took a breath before you headed back into the kids, their voices rising in their excitement to go outside.

In the yard, you had another look around, expecting to see him there on the other side of the fence. You were slightly relieved when he wasn’t but still on edge. You joined a game of tag then watched several of the kids line up for the slide. You lost yourself in your job as you told yourself he must have gotten the hint, at least not to bother you irl.

Just like the day before, and every day, you left work and headed for your stop. He wasn’t there either and you sat down and phoned your mom, hanging up as the bus pulled up with a promise to call her again when you were home. At home, you felt almost normal again and checked your notifications; no more follows, no more requests, nothing.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday passed in a similar fashion. Each saw your anxieties less than the day before. You even resolved to open Steam and start a new world for yourself. You spent hours mining and almost fell asleep in your chair. When you nearly tipped over, you decided it was time for bed.

You slept better than you had all week and woke up before noon. You wanted to log right back on but you had life to deal with; groceries, cleaning, and of course, making that call to your mother you’d delayed the night before. After all that, you felt accomplished and you decided to treat yourself to take out, a rare divulgence.

You called the local Chinese eatery and waited eagerly for your feast as you turned on a new episode of your current binge. You played on your phone until the battery was low and had enough juice to buzz up the delivery man. You dug for your wallet as you went to the door and unlocked it without looking up.

“How much--” you asked as you opened the door.

Your eyes met a familiar pair, two blue gems behind a pair of narrow glasses. Jensen wore the same cap and held the paper bag of take-out with a smile. You grabbed the door and tried to swing it shut but he was too quick as he slapped a large hand against the peeling paint.

“It’s on me,” he said, “I love spare ribs.”

“What the--” you gasped as you pushed on the door helplessly, “please go away.”

“You’re not answering me,” he said as he stepped closer and forced you back as his body brushed against yours, “you blocked me and I can’t even get a hey, Jensen, how are you?”

“I don’t want you here,” you tried to shove him and he shouldered you away easily, “get out!”

He slammed the door and you flinched. He put the bag down on the corner table and reached back to twist the lock without a look. His eyes roved around your entryway and further into your apartment. He smiled as they stilled and focused on you.

“This place is cute… like you,” he said and you heard a slight hesitation in his voice.

You swallowed and backed away from him. You spun on your heel and ran for your couch. You reached over the back to your phone and unlocked it as the battery icon flashed. You had just enough juice to make the call. You dialed as you turned back to him.

“I’m calling the police so you b-better l-leave,” you warned as your voice and hands shook, “I me--”

He was quick and before you could pull away, he swiped your cell out of your hand. He scoffed and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall and landed screen down on the hardwood. You bit down and pressed yourself to the couch. You stared at him and kicked yourself forward as you tried to slip past him. He caught you and wrestled you back into the front room.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked calmly as you struggled in his grasp, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“N-no, you’re-- you-- let me go,” you stammered as he angled you around the couch. He pushed you down so you bounced on the cushion. You tried to push yourself up and he pointed his finger in your face and wagged it.

“No, you stay,” he growled and wiped his other hand on his jeans. He was nervous, even if he was angry.

“Please, why-- what do you want?” you grasped the cushion and hovered at the edge of the couch.

He sighed and sat in the chair. He took his hat off and set it on the table as he ran his fingers through his short hair.

“Good question,” he said as his jaw squared and his eyes turned to pinpoints, “better one, why did you block me?”

“Are you serious? You-- you--” you struggled to get your words out, your voice even more splintered by your fear, “you doxxed me, you came to-- to my work-- and…”

“I thought we were getting along. I thought you liked me,” he said with a frown, “I really did, you sure acted like it and-- I only wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“But why wouldn’t I be? I--” you shivered and crossed your arms as you withered beneath his gaze, “Jensen, this was only supposed to be online.”

He scoffed and stomped his boot on the floor. He shook his head as he looked to the ceiling and his anger bulged along his temple. He tilted his head and looked at you again.

“You know, for years, I have been a nice guy, I am a nice guy,” he pushed his shoulders to his ears as he threw his hand out, “I’m so patient and caring and you girls, you don’t even give me a second look.”

“Jensen--”

“No, really, I mean look at you, you’re no supermodel and yet it’s the same thing, ‘let’s just be friends’,” he spat, “but I watch guys all the time treat women like shit and they don’t have any trouble at all, they got them hanging off of them and I’m a creep for giving them a compliment or opening the door--”

“I don’t… know you,” you eked out, “you have to understand--”

“I don’t understand,” he stood abruptly, “I’m done trying to understand.”

He pulled his jacket open and slid it down his arms. You watched him sling it over the chair and as he turned back to you, you stood. He caught your shoulders and held you in place. His strength was plain in his grip as he squeezed then slowly moved his hands to cradle your face.

“I just wanna be nice,” he said as he leaned in. You tried to pull away but he moved a hand around the back of your head and forced your lips against his. He poked his tongue inside your mouth roughly as you tried to shove him away. Finally, he parted, his hands still firmly around your head, “wasn’t that nice?”

“Please,” you begged as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

His eyes searched your face as you stared back at him in terror. He sighed and dropped his hands back to your shoulders. He pushed you down to the sofa harshly and backed away.

“Fine, I won’t be nice,” he snarled as he took his glasses off and folded them carefully. He put them on the table beside his cap and twined his fingers together, loudly cracking his knuckles.

You blinked at him as your eyes grew glossy. You brought your legs up under you and pressed yourself to the back of the couch. You grasped the upholstery and turned as you launched yourself over to the other side. You stumbled as you landed on your feet and ran for the door.

You were yanked back as he snaked his arms around you and took you off your feet. You kicked out and screamed but it was cut off by his palm as he kept one arm around your middle. You scratched at his hand as he dragged you back to the couch. He pushed you face down onto the cushions and planted his knee in the middle of your back, slipping his hand away as he put enough weight on you to keep your voice suffocated.

“Listen, I know I look like some IT nerd but I’m a lot more than that, now don’t make me hurt you,” he played with your hair as he smiled down at you, “you try that again and I will shut you up and if someone hears you, I can take care of them too.”

You sniffed as tears pricked in your eyes and nodded frantically as it felt as if he would snap your spine. He pushed off of you and you stayed as you were, paralysed with fear. He sat and unlaced his boots one at a time. He looked up as he set them neatly beside the foot of the chair and he bent to catch your eye.

“Well?” he pointed at you and traced the line of your body in the air, “let’s go.”

You stared at him dumbly and he stood to pull his tee over his head. His torso was sculpted perfectly and his chest trimmed with hair that trailed all the way down to his pants. He stepped forward and tugged at the back of your shirt.

“You want me to do it for you, baby?” he purred, “I can help you.”

You swatted him away and sat up. You bent your legs to your chest and hugged them. “Please, I’m scared, just leave me alone--”

His hand rested on his belt and exhaled again. His fingers moved swiftly to unloop the striped belt and unbutton his jeans. He pushed them down, nearly tripping as he stepped out of them. He stood in his boxers, tented with his impatient excitement, and gripped his hips.

“It’s okay, baby, I know you’re shy, I am too,” he neared and you winced as he grabbed your wrist. He tugged on your arm and you resisted until he bent your hand back painfully and you cried out. He tickled your jaw as he looked you in the eye and tutted, “it doesn’t have to be like this, alright?”

You went limp and let him pull your arms apart. Your legs slipped down and your feet dangled above the floor. He got to his knees and pushed between yours. He slowly rolled up the hem of your shirt and bent to kiss your stomach as he bared the flesh. You trembled as he forced your arms up and swooped the fabric over your head. It fluttered through the air and to the floor as he cupped your tits through your bright pink bra.

“Is this so bad?” he asked as he nuzzled your chest and pushed your tits up.

He glided the straps down your arm and slid your bra lower so that you popped out. He nibbled at your flesh and traced your nipples with his tongue. You sat rigid and let him explore your body, too terrified to move a muscle. He reached around you and struggled with the hooks, frustrated he snapped the clasps and the band came free.

He continued to play with your chest, his fingers crawling up and down your stomach and sides. There was a genuine curiosity to his touch and it sent a chill through you. His fingertips pressed to the top of your pants and he pulled at them as his lips travelled down to your hip.

He tugged on your pants and jerked your entire body. He tore them lower as he pushed you up and you lifted yourself to let him peel away the layer. He added them to the floor and toyed with the elastic of your panties. The little bow in the front drew his attention as he pushed your legs wider and ran his nose along the cotton.

He hummed and rubbed his fingers down your crotch, pushing the fabric to your folds as he teased you through them. You inhaled sharply at the tingle it inspired and he pressed firmer against you, flicking his fingers along your bud as he noticed how it made you squirm.

He gently pulled aside the cotton and you felt his hot breath against you. You pushed on his head before he could delve into you. “Please, don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he threw your hand away from his head and bent over you, “just relax.”

He dragged his tongue along your cunt and lingered around your clit. You clenched as it sent a thrill through you and he moved his lips against you, suckling at you bud as your breaths grew raspy. You pushed yourself against the back of the couch and dug your nails into the cushion.

He slid a finger along your cunt and circled your entrance. He rubbed up and down as he kept his tongue swirling over your clit and you swallowed back as gasp as he poked inside. He felt around and added another finger, stretching you as he carefully pushed them in and out of you in time with his mouth.

He lapped you up and you closed your eyes, desperate to resist the coil winding within you. Your legs tensed against the couch and you tilted your pelvis without thinking. He sped up, the noise of his mouth and your slickness filled the silence. You let out a puff and moaned as you slapped the couch. The waves rolled over your flesh and you came into his mouth with a pathetic mewl.

He stilled his fingers as he lazily teased you with his tongue. He pulled his fingers out and sat back, the heat between your legs cooling in his absence as he licked up your juices. He watched you as he sucked his fingers and stood. Your head lolled and you edged forward on the couch. You tried to stand but he caught you and flung you back.

“We’re not done, baby,” he winked at you as he grasped the top of his boxers, “go on, lay down.”

You murmured your refusal and once more tried to get up. You slipped onto the floor and shakily crawled away as he dropped his boxers to his ankle. He grabbed you before you could get around the side and lifted you easily. He turned you and shoved you down onto your back as he lifted a leg over you.

He straddled you and again his hands roved over your body. You smacked at his fingers weakly but he easily ignored you. He kept one hand moving along your curves as he stroked himself with the other. He groaned and shook as he stroked his dick. Your eyes followed his hand and you gulped, he was thick.

He moved his knees back and pushed them up beneath your thighs as he kept a hand planted on your chest. He ripped your panties down your legs and untangled them from your feet.

He held you down as he ran his tip along your cunt, wetting himself with your coerced arousal. You groaned and grabbed the arm of the couch above you. You tried to pull away from him.

He pushed against your entrance and you looked at him in shock. You couldn’t stop him. His eyes were set between your legs as he inhaled and slowly eased into you. He gasped as he got his tip inside you and his muscles tensed. He bit his lip as he dove further in and you gasped as he filled you inch by inch.

“Shitttt,” he moaned as he reached his limit and you whined at how full you were, “oh, baby.”

His hand slid from your chest and he gripped your hips as he pulled back and thrust. You exclaimed and he did it again, slowly as he watched himself impale you over and over. You curled your fingers against the couch arm and your feet arch as you pressed your thighs around him. He lifted your pelvis high as he angled his dick even deeper.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, “oh, baby, you’re so good. Ahh-hh-hh,” his voice fizzled as your walls clenched him and you closed your eyes as you felt the heat building.

He moved his hand along your thigh and stretched it over your pelvis, pushing his thumb to your clit as he kept his pace. He purred as you writhed helplessly against him and you panted through the rising ecstasy.

“Please, please, please…” you chanted, unsure if you were begging him to stop or for more.

He moaned as he sped up and you sucked your lip under your teeth as you neared your peak. You quivered as your orgasm crashed into you and you let out a strangled cry. He snarled and planted his hands beside your head as he leaned over you, his hot breath tickled your face as he pounded into you.

Your legs bent around him as his pelvis rubbed against you and the friction drove you to another climax. You held onto the arm of the couch as he fucked your harder and harder. He kissed you and nibbled at your lip as he groaned and hooked an arm under to hold you close.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” he said against your cheek and you turned your head away from, “ah, here I--”

He spasmed and slammed into you. He took several long thrusts and stilled. He grunted and drew heavy breaths as he rested his weight over you. He grabbed your head and turned your head up as he pressed his forehead to yours. You kept your eyes closed as the flames slowly dwindled.

“Was that so bad?” he stroked your cheek and trailed his finger down to poke between your lips, “No, it’s what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” he wiggled his hips and you hissed, “yeah, you want me.”

#jake jensen #dark jake jensen #dark!jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #the losers #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #one shot

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owaowabetch · 4 years

Text

Uh Oh (Sykkuno x F!Reader)

Oneshot (maybe part of a series??? idk we’ll see): The Prequel to “Impasta” in which reader meets the gang for the first time and experiences a betrayal. Mainly Friendship

Warning: non-beta, I wrote this in one go and full sent it.

You were a small time Twitch streamer that had recently befriend a streamer with a much larger audience, ValkyRae. You had been talking back and forth for quite some time, since Rae’s dm to you weeks ago. You were mainly an rp channel where you played games like GTA, The Sims, and Animal Crossing. Though you gained a lot of your followers from playing League, though it mostly consisted of hate-followers that would only critique your gaming, even though you were pretty good at it. But it doesn’t bother you too much *que sob*

You were streaming GTA on a RP server playing an amish girl on a Rumspringa and wreaking havoc. You and your ‘gang’ had successfully finished hitting a bank truck ,causing your character to rake in a few thousand dollars, when you got a message from Rae asking you if you had wanted to play a few rounds of the popular game among us.

“Alright guys, a friend asked if I wanted to join her lobby of among us. I know it’s different from the stuff i usually stream, but is that something you guys would be cool with?” You asked your chat and watch an influx of people messaging ‘yes’ or ‘pog’. You take a sip of your Starbucks and picked up your phone to message Rae that you’ll be joining. “Fair warning, I’ve never played among us. So we’ll see how this goes, guys”

While you waited to be invited to the discord and into the lobby, you chatted with your viewers for a bit. “I just realized that I’m really awkward around new people. Like when I’m playing on the GTA Rp Server, I’m not myself, I’m a character you know? So it’s easier to talk with other people, cause they’re also role playing. Plus I don’t think I can call anyone in the discord a musty dusty rat bitch lol or sell them drugs, it’s not that kind of game...unless?...” You laugh as you login to your discord and accept the invite to the discord “alright guys! here we go~”

You enter the discord call and hear people talking.

“Y/N!” Rae exclaims “Guys this is my new friend y/n”

“Hi” Responding to the various voices greeting you

“OK, so the code is in the chat and so are the bubbles, so your chat can see who is talking and what not” Rae explains

You input the code and saw your little character in the space ship. “Oh god guys look at us!” You ran your little character around the ship “How do we change colors? I’m not feeling this blue and I saw Rae with her lil creepy mask”

You read your chat tell you what to do so you went to the little computer to change the blue to white and clicked through all the hats til you decided on the pink flower. “How about this guys? Yellow is my favorite color but its taken”

“Alright, you ready y/n?” Rae asked

“Yup” you respond by running circles around her character

“OK i’m starting. Don’t forget to mute and close chat. You can open it back up if your imposter or dead” Rae sang “Good luck~”

“Alright chat I gotta close you til the game is done? I guess” You hum as the words ‘crewmate’ pop up. “Well at least i’m not imposter, i know the game. I mean who hasn’t at this point. I just never played it, seems to be to nerve wracking”

You open the map icon and run to where the closet yellow exclamation point was, which was admin. You make sure to note all the colors around you in there as you swipe your card “Alright, green, yellow, brown,red, and orange” You repeated the colors over and over again as you make your way into electrical when you notice something “Ok uh green is following me? I don’t know why but its freaking me out.” The lights turn off and you start freaking out “Oh god, this is where I die. Don’t I? You know what do it. Kill me! It’s probably a good idea. I’m kind of an idiot and it’ll help me figure things out on my own without the pressure” You follow the arrow pointing to a panel and you click on it “What am i supposed to do? You know green, this would be the perfect opportunity to murder me in cold blood... is this how you do it?” You flip the switches so that they are all bright green and the lights turn on “YAS BITCH, I did it”

The green character kind of just circles your body as you do tasks in electrical, you do download, wires, and power diverter. “Ok BUT WHY IS HE FOLLOWING ME!!”

An orange body had been reported and that two others had died (bright green and pink) and the person who reported the body was black or as his name read ‘Abe’ “Ok, so this body was in admin on card swipe”

“Well this body couldn’t have been me or y/n” Sykkuno says “I was following her this entire time”

“Yea, I’d like to know why lol? You were kinda freaking me out dude” You laugh a bit trying to play off how nervous you were to call him out on it

“Oh No! I was protecting you” Sykkuno explains “I promise”

“Sykkuno? Are you already simping for someone?” Rae feigns exasperation

“No really guys!” He explains nervously “The new person always dies first, so I was just trying to protect her.”

You hum and smile mischievously “Unless, your just trying to gain my trust only to murder me in coldblood in front of my bestie Rae, to prove your superiority over her!?!”

Rae gasps “Really Sykkuno!?! I’m voting you just for that!”

“Wah? No wait! It’s not like that really” Sykkuno starts laughing as Rae votes “Oh God did you really vote for me?”

“Yes” Rae says and you start laughing

“So anyways, Leslie’s body is in admin?” Hafu says wanting to talk more about the body and get all the sus’s and clears

Though you gasp when you realized a few things “wait I have some info to share” teasing Sykkuno had loosened you up a bit “it was me,green,yellow,brown,red, and orange in admin. Then me and green, uh Syyykkkuunnoo? Sorry if i didn’t say your name right, left and went into electrical, then lights were called and I fixed them before finishing off my tasks in there. So the body must’ve died during lights unless she left and came back into admin after lights were fixed? which doesn’t make much sense, sooo yea” you smiled “look at me chat! being all smart and shit”

“yes” Poki agrees “I left admin also with Rae just before lights were called”

“Ok, so I know that puts sus on me, but I went straight to lights when they were called” Hafu says “Someone on the right side must’ve vented when lights were off. Like I was entering the hallway from storage with Tina when lights got fixed and we went to reactor room together. So it couldn’t have been me. Maybe Tina? I dont know which way she come from, but it was not me”

“That is true. I did meet up with Hafu at storage, but I don’t know man” Tina says “ I was doing download in comms”

“Oh god” You tell chat “I don’t know whether to believe Hafu or not. I know she is really good, along with Toast, but he hasn’t said anything”

“Well it is seven and we don’t vote on seven, so we can skip. Just putting a sus on Hafu” Rae says

“Yes please do” Hafu says as she votes to skip

“Do we know where the other bodies are?” Poki asks as the seconds start to dwindle down to zero “Also Toast? Why are you so quiet?”

“I’m trying to figure out a new strat, so don’t you worry. I’ll catch the killers” Toast starts to evil laugh and that was the end of the meeting.

“Ok we’re susing Hafu for this.Though I don’t think it’s her only cause I remember watching one of her imposter plays and it would be a too obvious kill,since so many people were there, it just doesn’t make sense, so someone venting in and killing is plausible or could be a self report? I don’t know lol It’s my first game” You run with Sykkuno and finish up your tasks together. Though lights were called when you both were at shields, you can see the vent pop open and in your little vision bubble you see a flash of red “Whelp this is where I die, I’d like to rate Sykkuno an 8 out of 10 for protecting me, but obviously I am now died” True to your word Rae killed you and you saw Sykkuno running around like a headless chicken when he reports your body

“Oh God! They got her when I was trying to protect her!” Sykkuno exclaims

“Sykkuno! You were supposed to be protecting her!?” Rae shouts “What happened? Did you kill her in cold blood? hmm?”

“smh Rae, you murdered me right in front of Sykkuno” You sigh “Well chat looks like I’m dead and we can speak now”

“No!” Sykkuno denies “I said I was going to protect her. I wouldn’t kill her after saying that”

“Well she’s dead now Sykkuno! Where’s the body?” Toast dramatically says

“It’s in shields. It happened when lights were off” Sykkyno says “I’m sorry y/n, I couldn’t protect you”

“Aw that is so cute” You pout at his apology, it wasn’t his fault. It was dark, so obviously he couldn’t see

“Well I don’t think Sykkuno did this, He said he was protecting her to everyone, so I can say that he’s crew” Hafu says “I’m at light panel, I remember seeing Poki and Tina there”

“I can confirm this” Poki says “So Toast let’s hear your big brain play. What’s your strat?”

It was silent for a minute, before Toast admits that he doesn’t have one.

“Ok so we can all agree that Toast is the imposter right?” Rae says “Vote him outta here!”

“Yep” Tina agrees hitting that vote on him and many follow suit

“Wait guys! WAIT! I do! I do have a strat” Toast screams out “Uhhh... wires! The wires guys!”

“Lol they’re gunna vote him off” You watch people voting “Rae is probably gunna win this”

“Yea, you’ve done that pay before” Poki laughs

“Don’t worry I’ll skip Toast” Sykkuno says

“Why would you skip if we’re on 6?” Rae asks “Is Toast your imposter buddy?”

“Wah? I said I was protecting y/n, why would I kill her?” Trying to make his innocence obvious

“Unless you killed her by accident or Toast did and you’re trying to protect him like the Simp you are!” Rae accuses him

Tina starts to also question Sykkuno “Wait a second, I dont think I’ve seen you do a single task this entire game! You’ve just been following y/n all around! We should vote him off next!”

“Guys, I swear it’s not me, it just doesn’t make sense” You can hear him plead “Oh no guys, how did this get twisted? It’s Rae! But how did it go to thinking Sykkuno as imposter?”

The meeting ends with Toast screaming into the abyss as he is yeeted out with Sykkuno telling him that he voted to skip.

“Ok then chat, looks like the imposters are gunna win, lets talk for a bit” You sigh and start reading the comments “ I know that I didn’t talk much with them, but I’m just awkward in general and I don’t know what to say to them. This is the first time playing with a group like this where i’m supposed to be myself and not a character.”

The words Defeat appeared on screen and there was Hafu and Rae as imposter. “I honestly didn’t think it was Hafu”

“Hafu was that you that killed Leslie in admin? I didn’t think it was “You asked when you returned to the lobby

“NO! I got framed by my own partner” Hafu explains before taking her bathroom break

“How did Rae get that kill cause I was with her?” Poki asks

“I vented from Caf back into admin when lights were off” Rae laughs “and I vented into shields and killed y/n right in front of Sykkuno!”

“Im sorry for not being able to protect you” Sykkuno runs circles around my character “Next round I’ll do better! I promise”

You laugh and start chasing after him in the ship “What if you end up as imposter?”

“Then I’ll have to look away as my imposter buddy kills you” Sykkuno laughs behind his hand and clears his throat “Im joking, Im joking, I promise”

“Wow Sykkuno” You tsk and run over to the opposite side of the room “I don’t know if I want your protection services now”

“Uh” Sykkuno splutters “I’m joking I promise! I won’t kill you as imposter”

“Wait til Corpse hears you simping over someone else” Poki says before starting the game

“Wait Hafu is still in the bathroom!” Rae exclaimed, but it was to late to stop the game from starting, so she’ll have to jump in when she comes back. Though you swear you feel your heart jump out of your chest when the words Imposter read on you screen. The 1st of the night for you and another in a row for Hafu.

“Oh God guys. Hafu is in the bathroom, but she has to carry us” You start to panic “What we do we do!?! Wait is Sykkuno seriously gunna follow us? Should we kill him or would that be to obvious?” You see the chat tell you that it would be to obvious and that it would be better to maybe frame him, but it seems to mean to you “Should we kill someone in front of him? You know to test his loyalty? It’s a terrible idea”

Though before you go on to fake tasks, you see Sykkuno standing on top of Hafu’s body, so you also go ontop of Sykkuno’s and to the outside perspective you are protecting Hafu, but really for you it’s to ensure that your imposter partner is going to be walking around and killing people,once she comes back from the bathroom. It seems that Hafu is back from the bathroom as her yellow character starts making her way away from you both. You and Sykkuno make your way to admin when lights get called and Sykkuno starts to wiggle his body around into a corner. It seems as though he wants you to stack with him in a corner, but before you do you double back when you see a body pass by and kill them, though you start to laugh when you see your character kill Rae, before ‘stumbling’ into Sykkuno’s view in the corner. You both stay there as lights turn back on and go on card swipe. You think about juking Sykkuno, but realize that it’ll look sus on you for ditching him. So you two just walk around ‘completing’ tasks as every once in a while the lights would go off and you two will stack on each other or wait for doors to open which you had been closing alot of them.

“Honestly guys I’m at a point were I just wanna murder someone in front of him” You start to evil laugh as you both stack in the corner of medbay as lights start turning on when a body got called

“It’s toast, it’s toast, it’s toast” Hafu chants as it was her who reported the body “I saw him kill Poki”

“oh she self reported” you note and click on Toast’s name but not locking in your vote just in case. You also noticed that four people had died “She killed three people!?! Wow she is beast in this game! Holy Shit guys”

“see, from my perspective it’s hafu. I didn’t see the kill, but I did see blood splatter and Hafu immediately reported the body and blamed me, so it has to be Hafu. I’m voting her” Toast explains and votes her

“no no no no no no no. I saw you kill her when lights got fixed.” Hafu describes her side and what she did in that round “ Ok guys I was afk for like the first 20 seconds and I see Sykkuno and y/n there standing on me in caf., and I’m just doing my tasks, which I finished by the way, so I’m just going back and forth going to cams and just walking around to find any dead bodies. So if you saw cams on in the last 30 or so seconds it was me. I’ve also been fixing lights too! Peter and Leslie should be able to vouch for me on that! But on this round of lights I’m making my way to go help fix them when i see blood flicker in my little bubble and as it starts to get bigger I see Toast walking away from it. Its Toast. It is 100% Toast.” She locks her vote on him “Vote him please. If you don’t vote then you’re either imposter or just throwing”

“I don’t know guys” You start and hover your mouse over the green checkmark next to Toast’s name “I’ve been with Sykkuno the entire round and we did guard Hafu’s body. For Hafu to say that she saw Toast kill, but toast didn’t see Hafu kill? It just doesnt make sense so I’m voting Toast” You lock your vote in when Hafu reminds everyone that crew has to vote together since it is on six. Reminding Peter and Leslie that Hafu has been fixing lights got their votes, but Sykkuno was hesitant “You know I can never vote Toast guys, but I have been with y/n this entire time and I know it’s not her. So, I’m sorry Toast but uh” He locks his vote in for either Hafu or Toast? Who knows if he’s simping over Toast hard.

“Sykkuno?” You can hear Toast tremble his voice “Sy-sykkuno? Who did you vote for? Sykkuno!?!?! Do- Don’t tell me...did you really vote me?”

“I uh “ He clears his throat as the votes get out and all of us had voted Toast

Toast gasps “Sykkuno!?! How could you!?!?!”

“I’m sorry! I just trust y/n!” Sykkuno explains as Toast’s body once again gets yeeted out into space.

“Wow guys, looks like we’re gunna win our first imposter game!” You wiggle around happily “and we literally did nothing...wait we killed Rae! We got our revenge from the last round mwua hahahahaha”

Sykkuno and I run circles around each other before walking back into medbay. You can see Hafu kind of trailing behind and the doors get locked with us three in it, but Hafu is just standing there. “Chat what is Hafu doing? Why is she just standing there” You can see Sykkuno step on the med scan “Wait she wants ME to kill SYKKUNO! Oh god that is so evil lol but i’m so useless as imposter, so I might as well get in at least 25% of the kills”

Once Sykkuno steps off you just murder him and you see that you had won.

“I- I can’t believe you just killed me!?! I trusted you y/n” Sykkuno exclaims

“Sykkuno” Rae sighs “she KILLED ME in caf! Why did no one NOT SEE MY CHOPPED BODY IN CAF!”

You just laugh “I’m sorry Sykkuno, but my chat was telling me that Hafu wanted me to kill you”

“Yea, cause I did like all of the kills and sabotages” Hafu recounts who and how she killed

“Sykkuno, you giant simp. I can’t believe you vote me” Toast tsk’ed

“I can’t believe y/n was the imposter! and she killed me!” Sykkuno shakes his head “you know what i’m no longer protecting you anymore”

“Wait Sykkuno I’m sorry. Really” You giggle

“No no no it’s ok, it’s all part of the game” Sykkuno reassure you that he is not actually mad and that he hoped you had fun “But i wont be protecting you from now on, I have scars now”

So, you play a few more games before calling it quits and end your stream. Later on, you find that Sykkuno started following you on Twitter and Instagram, You totally did not stalk both of his pages and you totally don’t think that he’s cute.....

SideNote: You totally murdered someone in front of Sykkuno and he totally didn’t snitch on you. Instead he protected you as you ran around killing more people in front of him and like the giant Simp he is he totally went ‘I neva snitch on you Daddy, I hold a brick for you Daddy’.

#sykkuno x reader #sykkuno x y/n #sykkuno imagines #sykkuno fanfic #youtubers x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse imagines

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whoacanada · 3 years

Text

‘Wishful Thinking‘

Summary: Every NHL champion gets a single brush with ice magic. When Jack takes his first cup with the Falconers, he accidentally undoes the wish that brought him back from the brink of death in 2009, and Bitty becomes hell-bent on lifting the cup himself for a chance to set things right.

A/N: Finally posting some concepts I’ve played around with that aren’t 100% complete massive fics, but still pretty solid, just little things that might be enjoyed. Yet another cup-wish-gone-wrong-au with monkey-paw components. Also inspired by discord convos about canon!Jack meeting an older, veteran NHL!Bitty and having a lot of feelings. Also mentor/father-in-law!Bob trying to help Bitty navigate the NHL. There’s more to this floating around but this is the meat of it

____________

Bob can sense when it happens. A shift of something monumental that he’s only felt on a handful of occasions his entire life. A quick glance across the ice finds a number of the celebrating Falconers looking around curiously, unsure of the sensation; for so many, it’s their first brush with ice magic. A pleasant novelty. The vets, though, they look to each other.

Bob turns and doesn’t have to look far to find his son, one hand clasped around the cup, the other around Eric Bittle’s waist, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the moment is wrong, but Bob can’t quite determine why as he’s overcome with a wave of nausea. The stadium lights are too bright and he blinks hard, face scrunching, trying to force whatever wrongness he’s feeling out of himself.

Someone’s made a wish.

The moment passes. Bob’s vision clears. There, veiled in a shower of blue and gold confetti, is Eric; alone at center ice, face twisted in confusion as he looks around for the man who only moments earlier had been in his arms.

“You take the cup, you get one real wish,” the decades old, bourbon-lacquered voice of his first coach reminds him. “But only the one. Can be something small, like an empty cab in the rain, or it can be something big. World changing, even. The one thing, the most important thing — ”

“No,” Bob breathes. “Please, no.”

“— You never use your wish on another player.”

____________

They don’t know exactly what Jack wished for, but the next time Bitty’s blades touch the ice, it’s as if he’s stepped into the body of a new man. No more slurs. No more targeted chirps. He’s just one of the boys.

He plays. He wins. Then, the offers start to come.

NHL teams looking for fast wingers, team players, leadership material; not one of them mentions diversity, or Eric’s status as the first out NCAA hockey captain. No one cares. No one remembers Jack, and no one cares about Eric.

The best and worst case scenarios rolled into one. If this is the reality Jack unknowingly traded his existence for, Bitty has no choice but to walk through the door his partner opened.

Bitty swallows, trying to force the words out on one of his now nightly calls with the man who would have been his father-in-law in another world, if the shared connection between them hadn’t been interred in a Montréal cemetery almost a decade prior.

“I think . . . I think he wished for acceptance.”

___________

“No one remembers anymore.”

Eric scuffs his skate against this ice, building up a small pile of shavings before scattering them again, focusing on the soft white as if somehow he’ll be able to transport himself bodily to somewhere cool and quiet. Jackson Hole. Banff. Tremblant. Anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.

“Saw Tater last week at a press junket. Blank stares all around. Some days, most days, I wake up and I don’t know how I got here. I can go without thinking of him.”

Weeks. Eric doesn’t say aloud. Months. Those hideous mornings when he wakes up beside a warm body and forgets they aren’t him. They aren’t supposed to be him. Was there ever even a him.

Jack. Eric mouths silently, just to remind himself. His name is Jack.

The details always slip. The universe constantly trying to correct the fallacy of Eric Bittle remembering a man who died before they technically ever met. Faded photographs and corrupted memory cards. Selfies that used to have two people in frame. Vlog posts with cosmic ADR, swapping Jack’s name for someone else’s like a hastily rewritten script. Eventually, even Eric’s memories turn traitor. First times lost to reshoots and post-production magic. Blue eyes are brown. Black hair is blonde. Jack becomes Phillip. Eric’s first love recast. In desperation, he pulls a page from Memento, finds a tattoo parlor and has ‘Jack Laurent Zimmermann’ inked in dark, unmistakable letters on his inner thigh. Adds a cup, the Falconers’ crest, and the date they lost everything. It works well enough until the name fades; there are still days where a hook up will ask why Eric has a championship tattoo for a team he never played with.

Now, all he has is Bob.

“That’s why I’m here.” Bob reminds. “That’s why we talk.”

“But what happens if we don’t.”

Bob’s familiar assurances rumble through the phone. Constant. Refusing to acknowledge the harsh realities of the passing of time. The ever-present doomsday clock moving them both toward disaster — Bob aging, Eric aging out. He’s good, but he isn’t great, and the only offers coming his way are single-season contracts with teams that haven’t sniffed a championship in years. One day very soon, there will be no more chances for Eric to undo what’s been done. No more favors to ask of teammates that have long since forgotten a world where Jack Zimmermann was a college graduate and a rookie MVP. Not just an addict. Not just dead at nineteen.

Eric listens to Bob ramble, asks him to tell him a story, to tell him about the Jack that Eric never really got to know. The Jack he can barely remember. A man that Eric has dedicated his entire life to honoring, to bringing back — from where he cannot fathom — and Bob obliges in a soft tone Eric imagines is not dissimilar from how he must have spoken to his son as a child.

Eric ignores his teammates rushing around him — tossing chirps and gentle insults about his ‘Sugar Daddy’ — and focuses on the accented voice in his ear; grasping desperately at the memory of a man who doesn’t exist. Pretending. Hoping.

__________

Across the ice, Eric sees Kent Parson watching him. When they lock eyes, the aging star glides toward him, under a guise of one amicable captain greeting another. He’s pushing 37, and while the years of competitive play are starting to show, he’s just as viciously handsome as the day they first met. At least, Eric thinks he is. He can’t imagine a life where Kent Parson strolled onto a college campus and played beer pong at a frat party, but there’s a folder of old photos on Eric’s computer. Jack is in none of them, but there’s one of himself and Kent. Smiling.

Eric can’t recall why the image bothers him so much.

Parson used his wish years ago on something that he’s never bothered to share — and Eric’s far too much a gentleman to ask a man who was once a rival what he wasted his golden ticket on — but now, he’s slowing down, and this is supposed to be his farewell season. Going out with a bang, riding the high of his fifth cup win. He’s worked hard, and he deserves to shove the Penguins back down into obscurity for another season. Deserves it far more than Eric, with his selfish, single-mindedness that’s ruined god knows how many careers in the last decade between his own ruthlessness and Bob’s meddling.

Except. . . this is also likely Eric’s last season. His last chance to undo the great tragedy of his life, and Parson knows it.

“How you feeling, Peaches? You ready?”

Eric hates the nickname in the same way he hates when his father calls him ‘Champ’.

Eric fights his own shame because he wants to be honest, say, ‘No, I’m not ready, I’ll never be ready,’ but Eric can’t ask for what he wants, anymore. He wants the Aces to balk on a power play. He wants Parson to flub a pass and throw the game — he even knows the man would probably do it, too — but Eric needs to come by a win honestly. They learned the hard way in 2022 when Eric hands were wrapped around the cup, wishing, praying, crying, pleading . . .

Clear eyes, full hearts, or some such bullshit.

Cheaters don’t get wishes.

“I can’t remember, anymore,” Eric admits as they square up across the face-off circle, the resigned terror of an inescapable end creeping upon him like the burn of an old injury ignored for far too long. “Kent. Please.” Parson leans down, rests his stick against the ice, and holds Eric’s gaze as if to say, I’m here. Trust me. Just play.

The puck drops.

________

There’s someone watching him, young, handsome with dark hair and the kind of bright blue eyes that scream ‘notice me’ with all of the biological bluntness of neon plumage and a mating dance. The man weaves through the crowd, unnoticed by Eric’s teammates, and comes close enough that Eric can’t help but assume familiarity. He must be a fan, the way he’s flushed and excitable.

Eric’s drunk enough on the moment that he’s happy to indulge his baser instincts. He also literally can’t remember the last time he brought company home and if there’s ever been a night to get laid, it’s this one.

“Crisse, look at you, Bits.”

The man is caught between being awestruck and simply struck, reaching out to touch Eric’s arm but not quite making contact, like his depth perception is the tiniest bit off. He drops Eric’s old nickname so easily, so earnestly, that for a moment Eric thinks they might already know each other — but that’s impossible. Eric would remember someone so handsome, so very much his type.

“Only my friends call me ‘Bitty’.” Eric cautions, raising his half-empty champagne bottle in a mock toast and flashing his best ‘you’re coming home with me tonight’ smile. “But I’m more than happy to to get acquainted with you, Sugar.”

Eric isn’t usually this forward, this unrestrained. Tonight, it doesn’t matter, he’s celebrating: another championship, the end of a career, a life well lived. It’s to be expected. What isn’t expected is how the man’s relieved smile falters; as if Eric’s unbridled joy is somehow misplaced.

“Bitty? It’s me.”

“And ‘me’ is called . . . ?”

On very few occasions in Eric’s life has he been able to witness true devastation first-hand; and those instances were related to deaths, hockey losses, or blackout morning afters.

“Jack.” The man says softly, face slack with surprise. “It’s. . . Jack. Bitty, you know me.”

“If we’ve met before, I’m sorry,” Eric apologizes, hating to see the kid look so defeated. “I meet so many people — ”

Over Jack’s shoulder, Eric catches sight of Bob Zimmermann and waves, delighting in the way Bob’s face lights up when he catches sight of Eric, practically going supernova when he notices Jack as well, crossing the ice like a man possessed; Bob moves to pull them both into a hug but Eric’s new friend holds up a defensive hand and Bob stops mid-gesture.

It’s extremely apparent something is off, and between the reporters, the confetti, the champagne, and the fans, Eric is missing all of the context clues.

“Just won my last cup,” Eric singsongs, gesturing with the bottle between his mentor and the man Eric would very much like to fuck — who look very similar now that Eric can see them side by side. “Everyone’s super excited, right? Yeah? So, what’s going on. Did someone die?”

“No.” Bob says quickly, eyes flicking between Jack and Eric warily. “No. Not . . . that.”

“Severely injured?”

“. . . Non.”

“Okay, then, we should be celebrating!” Eric throws his arms wide and nearly clocks a passing teammate. “No more party pooping, Bobbert. Speaking, this is my new friend, Jack. Jack, Bob, Bob, Jack. Though, I’m getting the feeling you two might know each other. Or might be . . . related.” Eric gasps and smacks his free palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, the Tremblant retreat? Is that where I know you from? Listen, I was fucked up on pain meds that whole weekend, I am so sorry if we’ve already met.”

Despite Eric’s continued attempts at clarifying their shared mystery past, Jack keeps looking at Bob with that same wounded expression and it’s really killing Eric’s buzz.

“Bob.” Eric redirects. “Help me, here. Cutie’s nervous.”

“Eric, this is my, ah, well,” Bob’s smile is so forced, so tense, it looks more like a grimace. “Well, this is my son, Jack.”

There is only one ‘Jack’ Eric has ever known in relation to Bob Zimmermann, and he is not someone to be mentioned in polite conversation.

“Your son?” Eric echoes slowly. “Your son, Jack.”

Bob realizes what Eric’s tiptoeing around and casts a furtive glance toward the younger man, lifting two fingers to his cheek conspiratorially to imply ‘it’s a long story, not meant for public ears’. Eric knows how to play along.

“Wow, okay, did not expect that, but now that you’re saying it, I can one-hundred-percent tell. You have the same, well, everything.”

Eric takes Jack’s hand for an obligatory shake, not missing the way Jack’s features twist up into something caught between flattery and misery, before staring down his pseudo-mentor.

“My question is this, where have you’ve been hiding him — because how long have I know you, Bobby? Shame.”

“I’ve been . . . away.”

Jack’s tone is weighted with context Eric absolutely does not possess, but can definitely read into. Given the age difference and Alicia’s conspicuous lack of attendance this evening, Jack’s definitely a love child from some 90s Zimmergroupie. Or, original Jack didn’t actually OD and Bob spirited away his kid to keep away the prying eyes of the public; but that wouldn’t explain the age difference or the shared name.

Oh, Bobbert.

“Couldn’t wheel him out too soon,” Bob jokes, but Eric can tell the man’s heart isn’t in it, reinforcing Eric’s suspicion.

“Well, I’m happy you did,” Eric says graciously, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “He’s very handsome, when he isn’t doing this Eeyore impression.”

“Just like his father,” Bob says reflexively — defensively — as Jack goes pink. “Eric, will you excuse us for a moment? Back in five minutes, tops.”

Eric offers a gracious wave, gaze lingering on Jack’s retreating back — and backside, bless — watching Bob rest a firm hand on his son’s neck, gripping tightly to lean in and furiously whisper something. As Eric watches, Jack looks back over his shoulder; it’s not the fond glance of a potential paramour. Regret, maybe? Grief, definitely.

He must be as disappointed to be cock-blocked by his father as Eric is.

Across the ice, Kent Parson has rushed Jack, gathering him into a crushing embrace that the younger man returns easily — burying his face against Parson’s pads; pulling back only when Parson grabs Jack’s shoulders to push him away, taking a long look at him, holding his face between his hands briefly before pulling Jack back into his arms.

They don’t just look like old friends, it’s a reunion of desperation, like the videos his mother sends of soldiers coming home from war, but before Eric can think better of it, a teammate fists a hand in the collar of Eric’s sweater and pulls — away from Bob’s forlorn love child and forgotten first meetings — and the night goes on.

Bob doesn’t return. Neither does Jack.

Eric doesn’t even notice.

__________

#Part I #maybe?#zimbits #omgcp #angst #long fic #cup magic #ice magic #my stuff #my fic #NHL!Bitty

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 3 years

Text

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Prologue

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out--only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago. With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her--and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 Epilogue

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns, the ladies on the Discord! Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian Jones took a deep breath, noting the salty tang of the sea breeze. The scent brought him comfort, a balm to his wounded soul. Some of his most treasured memories involved holidays to the sea with his mum. He remembered something his mum said to him on one such holiday ages and ages ago when he was naught but a tiny lad of four or five.

“You feel things so deeply, Killian,” she’d said, stroking his hair. “When you love, you love with your entire being. It’s a beautiful thing, and those you love are lucky indeed, but be careful. There will be heartache in your future, and when you lose someone you love, I fear it will hit you harder than most.”

He’d learned the truth of her statement less than a year later when she had succumbed to a fast moving, particularly virulent form of cancer. He’d been inconsolable for weeks, unable to understand why his mum had left him.

But life had gone on, and like many children, he’d proven to be resilient, turning to his older brother, his hero, Liam for help and support. He thanked the gods every day that Liam had never left him--either willingly like his deadbeat father or through death like his mother.

Love was rather rare in Killian’s life. He’d taken his mother’s words to heart, only giving his heart when he felt it was in safe keeping.

That was, until he met Milah.

She was beautiful, vibrant, full of life--and unfortunately quite married. Liam had warned him against getting involved with a woman who wasn’t free to give him her heart, but Killian was snared before he even fully understood what was happening. He had fallen hard and he had fallen fast, and he found he was helpless to resist the gorgeous woman who had captured his heart.

They were happy for a few months, so happy that they’d begun discussing forever. Milah had sworn she’d leave her husband, that she wanted to be with him. Killian had begun shopping for rings.

And then, as suddenly as it began, it all went to hell. She’d come to meet him one night looking as grave and uncomfortable as he’d ever seen her.

“Killian, I do love you,” she said, “but what we discussed in the past, I think we’ve always known they’re pipe dreams. Robert’s my husband, the father of my son. We were meant to be. I’m sorry, but I have to end this now. Robert got a new job across the country, and we both think it’s the perfect opportunity for us to make a go at this, to start fresh. I’m sorry, but this is goodbye.”

It hit him hard, so hard it felt like there was a physical weight on his chest. How did one pick up the pieces of their heart when it had been shattered into a fine powder? Liam had tried to be supportive, he really had, but Killian had known it was always on the tip of his tongue to tell Killian “I told you so.”

After a couple months of misery, Killian decided he’d had enough. He needed a change, even if it was no more than a few weeks’ vacation. And so he’d packed up and taken the first flight he could arrange from his home in England to the States. He’d rented a car and simply begun driving, deciding not to stop until he found somewhere that might offer him peace.

He found it in the small, quaintly named seaside town of Storybrooke, Maine. There was such a magical feel about this berg. It was a place he could perhaps run into that peace he’d been sadly lacking since…

Killian stopped abruptly as he collided with something, someone in front of him. He heard a swift, harsh, feminine curse, and looked up to find himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen - riotous blonde curls pulled up into a high ponytail, green eyes, currently narrowed in anger, a red leather jacket over a white tank top. Her jeans were so tight to her slim figure they looked painted on.

For a long moment, Killian could do nothing but stare, open-mouthed at the vision before him, so gobsmacked he could barely remember his own name.

The woman growled in frustration as she looked down at the grocery bag she’d dropped upon impact. “Seriously?” she asked. “You’re just gonna stand there like an idiot?”

Killian shook his head as he came back to himself, his cheeks reddening at his rudeness. “My apologies, love,” he said, stooping down to gather up the spilled contents of her bag. “It appears I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“You think?” she retorted with a roll of her eyes.

For a moment the two worked together while Killian desperately wracked his addled brain for something--anything--to say that might allow him to remain in this woman’s presence longer, but he was coming up blank.

“Well….thanks for your help,” she said finally, when the groceries were back in their bag.

“Thanks for letting me help,” he replied rather lamely.

“Yeah, well maybe next time you might pay a little more attention and avoid this kind of situation altogether,” she suggested as she pushed past him and quickly disappeared from his sight.

She might have disappeared from his sight, but she most assuredly did not disappear from his mind. Thoughts of the beautiful blonde followed him through the streets of Storybrooke as he made his way closer and closer to the beach.

So consumed was he with his chance encounter that he didn’t even realize he’d wandered into a seedy part of town until he heard the sounds around him.

The sounds of an altercation.

Killian looked up to see several big, burly men brutally beating a man with black hair and blue eyes. The man fought valiantly, but it was at least six to one. He didn’t stand a chance. Killian fished his cell phone from his pocket, intending to call the authorities, get some help, but he knew the victim before him didn’t have time to wait for police to arrive.

Killian had to intervene.

He charged into the fray, pulling first one, and then another ruffian from the man being beaten, but his efforts seemed to have no effect on the attackers.

No effect, that is, save to divert some of their wrath toward him. Killian grunted as the first blow landed on the side of his head, and he dropped his phone to the ground. He fought back with everything in him, pleased to note he’d gotten in a fair few punches of his own, but it soon became obvious that he was hopelessly outmanned.

Sometimes retreat was one’s only option.

Killian turned, hoping to find help for himself and for the other victim, but he’d only made it a few steps when he felt a sharp pain to the back of his head...and then everything went black.

Notes:

--Hi there and welcome to my story for the 2021 CSSNS! This story was kind of inspired by an experience I had. Most of the time if I get a phone call from a number I don’t recognize, I just let it go to voicemail, figuring if they really want to talk to me, they’ll leave a message (and if they’re a telemarketer...they won’t). One day I got a message from an unknown number, and they did leave a message. The message was basically nothing but dead air. For some reason, I decided to try to find out who the number belonged to, and I came to find out the number belonged to someone who had died six months ago. Now logically, that probably means someone else has the dead guy’s cell phone now, but it brought up the possibility of a new story. What if Emma got a phone call from Killian Jones, who she finds out died several months ago...and it isn’t a mistake? Thus this story was born.

--This story has 4 chapters plus this prologue and epilogue, and the good thing is that it’s already completely written. This means I can set (and stick to) a posting schedule! I plan to update this story every Wednesday and Sunday until it’s finished.

--Up next: Emma gets a strange phone call from an unknown number. What she finds out about it leads her on a journey that will completely change her life.

Next Chapter-->

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns21 #my fanfiction #cs ghost story au #dead man's cell phone

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kmomof4 · 3 years

Text

Oh, Shit!

It’s here, y’all!!!! Only took a week!!! I am very excited to share this fic with all of you, even if I’m wanting to run and hide at the same time! This fic was spawned by a tweet that @stahlop shared on the CSMM discord last Tuesday.

In college, a friend set me up on a blind date. I wasn't in a great mood because I had received a traffic ticket a few hours before. My day got worse when my blind date turned out to be the cop who gave me the ticket.

After a bit of discussion with the ladies on discord, I started writing. I do believe this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written and I hope you all enjoy!

HUGE internet hugs and ALL the love and thanks to @hollyethecurious @karlyfr13s and @justanother-unluckysoul for their beta services. I am a very boring and repetitive writer on my own and without their INVALUABLE input, this would have been about as entertaining as plowing your way through waist deep snow in a blizzard.

Ao3 link

Rating: E

Words: Just shy of 4900

Tags: Blind Date, Smut

Tag list: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart1426-blog @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @klynn-stormz @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @xhookswenchx @gingerpolyglot @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @sailtoafarawayland @justanother-unluckysoul @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @the-darkdragonfly @batana54

Adding a couple of other folks from discord who were excited about this one. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the regular list.

@purplehawkcaptain @holdingoutforapiratehero

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Emma Swan lifted the glass of white wine to her lips as she looked out the window of the restaurant to the streets of Boston below. She wasn’t in the best mood to be going on a blind date, but she’d promised her best friend, Mary Margaret, that she’d still come even after the day she’d had.

She’d lost a big skip with a hefty payday because she’d been stopped for speeding in the middle of chasing him down. So the last thing she wanted to do tonight was make idle small talk with some random guy who was friends with M’s fiance, David, who had also made the reservation. She took another sip of her wine and turned toward the front of the restaurant as the maitre d approached. The man behind him cut quite a figure in the black suit he wore. He was tall and raven haired with dark scruff lining his jaw, and it took Emma a moment to recognize him.

Oh, shit…

~*~*~

Killian Jones walked into the swanky hotel restaurant and approached the maitre d.

“Reservation for two under the name Nolan,” he informed the man.

“Yes, sir,” he replied. “Your table is ready. Right this way, please.”

Killian followed behind the man as he led him toward the back of the room, where a blonde goddess sat alone holding a glass of white wine while looking out the window. She turned toward them and Killian stopped in his tracks.

Oh, shit…

~*~*~

3 hours earlier

Emma looked in her rearview mirror when she heard the siren. Flashing blue lights filled her vision.

Oh, shit!

She pulled over and watched as her mark sped away, slamming her hand on her steering wheel in annoyance. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she tried to plaster a winning smile on her face. Dressed the way she was in her best honey trap dress, it was always possible that she’d be able to talk her way out of a ticket.

She looked in the rearview again and caught her breath as the sexiest cop she’d ever laid eyes on got out of the cruiser and made his way toward her bug. He was sex on legs. Tall and lean with artfully mussed black hair and scruff lining his jaw, she snapped her mouth closed and swallowed heavily.

“Do you know why I stopped you, ma’am?”

Emma batted her eyelashes at him innocently.

“No, I don’t, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and the corner of his very full, very soft looking lips raised with it. She nearly needed to fan herself.

“You were going nearly 20 miles an hour above the speed limit back there.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, feigning surprise. “I had no idea! I’m so sorry, officer. I will be sure to never do it again.”

“Mmhmm.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “May I see your license and registration, please?”

“Oh, of course,” she agreed, lifting the hem of her dress up her thigh to where she kept her identification and a few bills in a thigh holster when she was working. She took her time getting her license out, hopefully giving him an eyeful. The man’s stunning blue eyes were darkened with lust when she turned back to him and handed him her information.

“Thank you, Miss… Swan,” he said, looking at her license. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him walk away, appreciating the view as he approached his own vehicle, before her own desire turned into anger.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” she hollered, slamming her hand on the steering wheel with each curse. She looked in her rearview again and saw him looking right at her. His intense stare told her that he had seen her outburst and that she hadn’t fooled him a bit with her little innocent act. She blew out a frustrated breath and waited for him to return, struggling to bring her libido under control.

Several minutes later, he returned. As he handed back her documents, Emma screwed up her courage.

“Listen,” she began, “I really am sorry for speeding so much back there, and for the little act earlier.”

His eyebrow raised again. “Really,” he deadpanned.

Indignation flooded her cheeks with heat as she took a deep breath before continuing.

“Yes, really. See, I was chasing a skip…”

“Your reasons don’t really concern me, Miss Swan,” he said, handing her the citation.

She huffed in annoyance as she took the ticket from him. Their fingers brushed briefly and Emma could feel the shock all the way down to her toes.

“Is this really necessary?” She wasn’t above begging.

“I’m afraid it is.”

With his heated gaze on her, she looked at the citation and gasped in shock. “$350,” she shrieked, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Watch your language, miss. I could add another hundred for disrespecting a police officer.”

Emma’s eyes got wide and she had to swallow her retort. She tossed the offensive piece of paper to the passenger seat and turned a sickly sweet fake smile on the man.

“Am I free to go now, sir?” she grit out with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

“Yes, ma’am.” He raised his eyebrow at her again and smirked while running his tongue over his bottom lip. If she wasn’t so pissed, she’d be really turned on by his actions. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

She wanted to tell him to piss off, but she also didn’t want to antagonize him. So she just rolled her eyes and turned the car on. When she pulled into traffic, she looked into the rearview mirror one last time and saw that he still stood on the side of the road looking at her car with a roguish smirk on his face, like he wouldn’t be opposed to pulling her over again... and maybe frisking her. And if she wasn’t so angry, she had to admit, she wouldn’t mind it either.

~*~*~

Oh, shit…

Killian couldn’t move. Couldn’t bring himself to put one foot in front of the other. The woman he was meeting, at his best friend David’s behest, was the angel he had ticketed earlier this evening.

Just looking at her again, a smirk spread across his face and he could feel his slacks tightening. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t very pleased about this turn of events, but he imagined that she wasn’t terribly happy to see him.

~*~*~

Oh, shit…

It was him. The cop that ticketed her a few hours ago. A flush blossomed across her face and spread down her chest- whether from arousal or indignation, she wasn’t sure. She took a deep breath, her chest rising. His eyes followed the action and darkened with desire before he subtly adjusted himself. Her own smirk ticked up the corner of her lips to match his. This was gonna be fun...

~*~*~

Killian resumed walking toward the table, inserting a slight swagger in his gait. When he reached the table, he held his hand out for her and raised it to his lips when she placed her own hand in his.

“A pleasure to see you again, Miss Swan,” he murmured, brushing his lips across her knuckles.

Raising her eyebrow at him, she snarked, “So now you’re gonna be a gentleman?”

“I’m always a gentleman, Swan,” he said, releasing her hand and sitting down across from her.

“Coulda fooled me,” she replied, rolling her eyes at him. He couldn’t help the genuine grin spreading across his face at her action. “I don’t think a gentleman would have given me a $350 ticket when I was just trying to do my job.” She raised her eyebrow at him again.

“Your job?” he asked. “And what might that be?”

“Well, I tried to tell you and you cut me off.” She could feel her anger at him rising again. “Not exactly gentlemanly behavior, you know.”

He felt his cheeks flame in embarrassment but nodded in acknowledgement of her assertion and motioned for her to continue.

“What? No ‘I’m sorry, Swan, you’re right’? No begging me for forgiveness?”

He smirked at her again. “I don’t beg.”

She pursed her lips and he was about to have a serious problem in his pants if she didn’t let up soon.

“Mmhmmm, we’ll see about that,” she murmured. Her eyes had darkened to a deep jade and she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. Yep, definite problem… He adjusted himself again, trying in vain to get comfortable.

“What do you do for a living, Emma? May I call you Emma?”

She rolled her eyes again. Every time she did that, her sex appeal increased ten fold and so did the tension below his belt.

“Might as well,” she exasperated, “since this is supposed to be a date. I’m a bail bonds person,” she continued, “and I was chasing my latest skip. He left his mother on the hook for his bond and she’s about to lose her house if I don’t bring him in.”

“I see,” he frowned. “I can’t do anything about the ticket itself. It’s already in the system. But perhaps we can team up and get him back behind bars without you endangering yourself and others.” He raised his eyebrow at her and was pleased to see her eyes darken further with a come hither look within.

“I don’t think I’d be opposed to that,” she flirted back, her bedroom eyes making it nearly impossible for him to think straight. If he didn’t have her tonight, he was going to lose his ever lovin’ mind.

The flirting between them continued back and forth over the course of the evening as they discussed their proposed partnership to bring in her skip, exchanged light and teasing touches, and swapped stories about David and Mary Margaret.

Killian was nearly driven mad with desire, much like he had been earlier when he ticketed her, between her sultry looks and the way her lips wrapped around her fork as she ate. She stared at him over the candle-lit table as she drew the fork out of her mouth in such an erotic way that he wished she was taking him into her mouth instead. He could just imagine her pink lips wrapped around him, sucking him down, which was not helping him bring his libido under control, at all.

~*~*~

Emma watched him from under her lashes as she ate, doing her best to keep her own breathing under control as she watched him squirm. She knew exactly what she was doing to him; the only problem was, watching him was turning her on too. The way he was looking at her now, he looked like he’d rather be dining on her, rather than the excellent steak on his plate.

His eyes bored into hers, his blue irises nearly swallowed by black, his jaw slack. She chewed and swallowed, never breaking the heated stare between them.

He swallowed heavily. “You wanna get outta here?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, wiping her lips and standing as he pulled out his wallet and tossed a couple hundred dollar bills on the table. He grabbed her hand and all but pulled her out of the restaurant into the lobby and towards the reservation desk.

“Do you mind? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wait long enough to get back to one of our places.”

She shook her head, seeing the logic in the plan. Her heart rate was already galloping a mile a minute, but when he drew her into his side and his arm snaked around her while his fingers drew nonsense along her waistline, it increased even more.

Once they were on their way up to the room, he captured her lips and caged her in at the back of the elevator, his hands running along her sides and setting her on fire. She pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him, burying her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Their tongues battled for dominance as he pulled her leg up over his hip and ground his hardness exactly where she needed him.

~*~*~

Killian swallowed her wanton moan as the ding of the elevator signaled their arrival on their floor. He reluctantly pulled away and touched his forehead to hers as she tried to compose herself before the doors opened. His desire for her threatened to drown him and he didn’t know how he was gonna make it to their room before ravishing her completely.

The doors opened and he grabbed her hand again as they exited the elevator. Moments later, they arrived at their door. Plastering herself to his back, her arms wrapping around his front, she writhed against him as he waited for the lock on the door to disengage. She cupped him through his pants just as he opened the door.

He covered her hand with his own, prompting her to giggle, as they fumbled into the room. There was no time to look around at the fancy amenities the hotel offered, not when he had a bloody goddess in his arms. He spun around in her embrace and caged her against the closed door.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled, prompting another giggle from her.

“Promise?”

“Yes, indeed, Swan,” he murmured before his lips latched onto her neck and sucked hard on her pulse point.

~*~*~

Emma’s head fell back against the door, granting him more access as white hot pleasure spiraled through her and centered in her throbbing core. She reached down and cupped him again, his length and thickness filling her small hand, before undoing his belt and pants.

She pushed his boxer briefs down his hips freeing his cock, then wrapped her hand around him and started stroking him up and down, up and down, up and down. His lips released her and he lowered his forehead to her own, a broken groan erupting from his throat as she continued her ministrations. Having him like putty in her hands was a heady feeling and she couldn’t bite back the smirk at the wicked thought that suddenly entered her mind.

She pushed away from the door, never halting the movement of her hand, forcing him to step backward into the room toward the king sized bed. She caught his sapphire gaze just as his lips crashed to hers again. They continued to shuffle toward the bed as his lips tried to devour hers, his pants falling all the way to his ankles. It was a wonder he didn’t get tangled up in them, pulling them both to the floor. They came to an abrupt halt when his legs hit the edge of the bed and tumbled onto it. He never released her as they fell and she laughed out loud when she landed on his chest.

She looked down at him and was struck by the wonder and awe she saw in his eyes. A sentiment that should make her want to run as far and as fast as possible. She didn’t know where these feelings were coming from but she knew she didn’t want to run from them either. Looking in his eyes, she saw a tender care within them that made her feel safer than she ever had, with any man. She was always very careful to keep her heart behind heavily fortified walls, but being here now, with him, she could feel those walls crashing down, leaving her totally exposed. The awed surprise and devotion she saw in his own cerulean depths told her with absolute certainty that he would catch her when she fell.

She lowered herself to him, much more slowly this time, and gently touched his lips with her own. His hands buried themselves in her hair as their tongues caressed one another, moans and soft gasps coming from them both. Her own hands started working down the buttons on his white dress shirt and stroking the soft chest hair that was exposed as she went. Finding the zipper at the back of the dress, he lowered it as his fingers stroked the exposed skin, kindling an inferno within her.

Once the zipper was down, she raised up again as he pulled the straps of her gown down her arms exposing her breasts to his sight. His eyes darkened impossibly further as he lifted his head and latched onto a pink nipple, teeth nipping and tongue laving as he held her tightly to him. A contented sigh left her as he released her and turned his attention to its twin. The inferno was dying down, replaced with glowing white hot embers, whose warmth filled her all the way through her extremities.

“You taste absolutely divine, my Swan,” he murmured, still showering her breasts with attention. She keened in pleasure before opening her eyes and pushing his jacket and shirt off, exposing his entire chest to her exploring fingers. They danced along his ribs and she couldn’t help her delighted grin when she found a spot just below them that caused him to jump, halting his worship.

“Ahh,” she breathed, “a bit ticklish are we?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer before she grasped his length again and began pumping him in earnest. His eyes rolled in his head as she stroked him from root to tip, swiping her thumb across the head that leaked precum at each pass. Releasing him for a moment, she shimmied out of her gown, leaving it to pool on the floor around her feet before she climbed fully on the bed with him.

Their eyes met, his blue completely swallowed by black, before she began leaving open mouth kisses down his torso, never breaking the spell woven between them in their transfixed gazes. She placed a kiss with a swirl of her tongue on his hip bone, his length rubbing against her cheek. Turning, she placed a kiss to the tip before taking him into her mouth. Their gazes remained locked as she took him as deep as she could before coming back up to start all over again.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth, love,” he moaned, “Just like I imagined. Just like that, Swan. Yes. So good.”

She went to work on him in earnest, her wicked thought from earlier flicking back through her mind. She bobbed her head up and down his shaft, her tongue swirling about the head before she took him in again. When he bumped the back of her throat, she cupped his balls in her hand and swallowed around him before releasing him with a pop. The groan coming out of him was positively wrecked and she couldn’t help the smug smirk spreading across her face as she looked back up at him.

“You are a wicked vixen, Swan,” he choked out. It took him a moment to match her smirk with one of his own.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” she cheeked, before swallowing him down again.

~*~*~

He fell back down on the bed and grabbed the bedspread with both fists, determined to let her have her way with him and not just hold on to her head for dear life as he took his pleasure in her mouth.

She licked and laved and he thought he might die from the exquisite torture of holding himself back as he bumped the back of her throat again and his balls drew up ready to explode down her throat. She released him with a pop again and this time his groan was more of pain than pleasure. He blew out an exasperated breath and caught her eye again. The green orbs danced with mischief and his own narrowed in speculation.

“Just what are you up to, Swan?” he asked, in between heaving breaths.

“You’ll see,” she replied before sucking him down again.

This time he didn’t hold back. He grabbed her hair and began pumping into her mouth, nearly desperate in his need. He could feel his balls drawing up again and was about to release her of his own accord, when she pulled completely off of him once again, wringing a wretched moan from the depths of his soul out of him.

“What do you want, Swan,” he groaned in agony. “I’ll give you anything if you’ll stop teasing me.”

He looked at her gorgeous face, her cheeks flushed, her pupils dilated, her lips parted, red, and swollen. She was just as aroused, but wasn’t to the edge of desperation like he was. His eyes widened as he suddenly guessed her purpose.

She grinned like the cat that caught the canary. “I’ll let you come,” she began, taking him in hand again and stroking up and down, “if you’ll pay my ticket.”

“Gods, woman,” he croaked, “Yes, anything. Just please, let me come,” he begged.

She lowered her head, taking him down one more time and he sighed in relief as he felt her mouth envelope him. That relief was short-lived however as she slowly stroked and swallowed him down. He thrust himself into her mouth and in seemingly no time at all, the tide of ecstasy overwhelmed him as he exploded down her throat. Thick jets of his seed burst from him so furiously after all her teasing that he struggled to remain conscious.

She swallowed every drop before releasing him and licking her lips. The erotic picture she painted roused him enough to grab her by the shoulders and surge upward, crushing his lips to hers. His tongue stroked the seam of her lips, tasting himself before she opened to him, her tongue matching his stroke for stroke. They finally broke away and he touched his forehead to her own, panting for breath.

“You are a minx, Emma Swan,” he confessed.

She smiled, a more genuine one this time before she pecked him on the lips. When she pulled back, he grabbed her.

“Uh, uh, uh, Swan,” he cajoled, drawing her close and kissing her gently. “A gentleman never leaves a lady wanting.”

“And you did say that you’re always a gentleman,” she agreed. He lowered her down to the mattress and looked his fill as his hands traced her curves from her jaw, over her shoulders, down her side and brushing the side of her breast, over her hip and down her long legs.

“You are exquisite, Emma.” His gaze captured her own again and as much as it had been teasing just a few minutes ago, now they were filled with a longing desire that matched his own.

He captured her lips again as his hands continued his exploration. Finally touching her scorching center, he dipped one finger into her depths, drawing it through her drenched folds then raising it to his mouth where he sucked it clean.

“You taste delicious as well,” he purred. Killian moved down her torso, leaving tender kisses and light teasing touches in his wake until she was nearly vibrating in anticipation. Looking back up at the gorgeous woman on the bed with him, a genuine smile broke over his face as he maneuvered himself between her spread legs and inhaled deeply. “And your scent,” he hummed in appreciation before diving in like a man starved. He licked a long stripe through her sodden folds and followed it up with his fingers as she writhed above him. Deciding to torture her a bit as she had him, turnabout is fair play after all, he pulled back and placed a hard and dirty kiss to her throbbing clit. A groan of complaint flew from her lips as his fingers withdrew.

“What the hell, Jones? This is not being a gentleman.” She lifted her head and scowled at him, apparently most displeased with his reciprocation.

“Getting a bit of revenge does not negate my gentlemanly qualities,” he cheeked at her irritation. “Don’t worry, Swan,” he assured her, “As I said before, a gentleman never leaves a lady wanting.” Waggling his eyebrows at her, he placed an arm across her torso, holding her still. He turned and gently bit down on the inside of her thigh before soothing it with his tongue. A tortured moan from Emma, her fists gripping the bedspread, prompted a kiss to her other thigh before he turned his attention to her core again. Lapping at her folds, her juices bathing his tongue, he plunged two fingers into her depths, curling them just right before he wrapped his lips around her clit and sent her flying over the edge. Her cries were music to his ears as her hips bucked against his face. Bringing her down gently, he rested his head on her hip, watching her face as the aftershocks flowed through her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as beautiful as you when you come, Swan,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hip bone.

She looked down at him, slightly dazed. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Jones,” she declared. “You did promise to pay my ticket.”

“I did, indeed, Swan,” he conceded. “And as a man of my word,” he put his right hand upon his naked chest, “I will do so.” He surged toward her, capturing her lips and rolling them until she rested on top of him. “Once I’m done with you,” he whispered, pressing kisses along her jaw.

She moaned as he rolled them again, working his way down her jaw to her collarbone and chest before his lips wrapped around her nipple, teasing it to a hard peak before turning his attention to the other.

“So responsive to me,” he murmured against her skin. He felt her grab his hair and tug relentlessly until he released her with a pop and let her draw himself up until he was staring down into veridian orbs that he could easily drown in.

“I need you inside me, please,” she begged, drawing him down into a bruising kiss.

“As you wish,” he cooed against her swollen lips. He looked down at her again as he lined himself up at her entrance. “Do we need anything?”

She shook her head. “I’m clean, I’ve got it covered, and I trust you,” she assured him, arching her back until he barely slipped inside her. His heart soared at her words as he thrust home, sheathing himself within her depths in one stroke.

Killian lowered his forehead to hers, glorying in the words she’d just spoken and in her tight warmth surrounding him. His lips gently stroked her own as he began to move within her. Moving languidly, deliberately, stoking the fire between them, he slowly made love to her. Moans and gasps of pleasure spurred him on, grinding against her every time their hips met. He could stay buried within her, holding her close to his heart, all night, every night. For the rest of his life.

Emma’s legs wrapped around his hips urging him deeper as her walls fluttered around his length. He increased his pace, pushing her higher and higher until their cries of mutual pleasure joined together in an age-old chorus of completion.

Killian shuddered above her as his release pumped into her depths. His hips stilled and he had to steel himself for what he might find when he opened his eyes. David had warned him that his date tended toward being closed off, holding people at arm's length, but that if he gave her a chance, he really thought Killian could find happiness and eventually love with her. And after the evening he had spent with her, he was ready to hand her his heart on a silver platter. She was brilliant, feisty, gorgeous, could hold her own in any situation, brave, strong, his match in every way. But he was so afraid that when he looked into her eyes, he’d see nothing but a citadel hiding, protecting her heart, after getting exactly what she wanted out of him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Eyes as green as the verdant forests he’d vacationed in as a lad stared back at him full of hope and trust, tinged with fear. Wanting nothing more than to erase that fear, he cupped her face in his hands and softly pressed his lips to hers, trying desperately to convey his own hope, trust, devotion, and yes, even love for her into his kiss.

When they broke for air he wanted to tell her everything. Everything in his heart. But before he could, she placed her finger on his lips and shushed him.

“Not tonight,” she said, removing her finger and kissing him again softly. She turned in his arms and snuggled back into his embrace. He held her tighter, burying his nose in her golden mane before he let sleep overtake him.

~*~*~

Killian struggled to open his eyes as the old fashioned, jarring ring of a landline telephone sounded from the floor next to his side of the bed. Emma still slept soundly in his arms and he groaned as he turned over and scooted over to the edge, his hand fumbling around on the floor until it closed over a cell phone. He fell back, eyes shut and answered.

“Hello?”

“Killian?” Mary Margaret asked, barely containing her squeal. “What are you doing answering Emma’s phone?”

Killian’s eyes flew open.

Oh, shit!

#oh shit #krystal writes #mostly pwp #prompt fic

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primoredial-jade · 2 years

Note

JADEEEEEEE I'm sorry to hear that Ayato also has you in his clutches. If you find out any way to at least be less down bad, please let me know too :""""">>>>>

the way he just took over my brain without noticing and making me pull for him!! And making me want to write for him instead of his retainer thoma!! Unforgivable!!

And now Ayaka's banner looks so menacingly at me because I planned to use my extra wishes to pull for her. Now I can't pull for her because I need to keep my remaining wishes for Kazuha.

But if you have any brainrot about Ayato, I'd love to listen to u talk about it if you'd like (dms, asks or discord, whichever you prefer hehe). I will be with you by your side until Ayato decides to let us go </3

Also I just read your post about your extensive writing assignments. All the best for it and remember to watch out for your health too. Drink more water, don't skip meals and sleep as much as you can. You can do itttt <3

(This is Sherry's main btw, I wasn't sure if I ever mentioned it to you and I hope I didn't cross any lines and make u uncomfy with the ask)

replying to the lovely sherry <3, ayato brainrot of me basically keyboard smashing for like 50% of the post, mayhaps ayato fic in the works that has been keeping me up at night (gasp?!) utc :]

SHERRY <3 thank u for sending in such a lovely ask, absolutely nothing to be worried about regarding crossing lines or anything like that!! so so happy when i see you on my dash :D

GOSH.... ayato omg idk what's wrong with me. a few weeks ago i said i wasn't going to be pulling for him to save some primos for kazuha's rerun. and by all means, from what i saw from leaks and stuff ayato looked super super cool!! just wasn't really what i needed +++ i wasn't immediately smitten with his character design, and i think that is my own fault for having such high expectations for literally monthsss before his release.

but then. oh no. oh god. i played his story quest.

wait. was he always this handsome? with quite the character to boot. can't lie, my type in fictional men are ironically tend to share the common traits of being cunning, smart, strong, handsome, rich, elegant, and PARENTLESS LMAO (diluc.... yeah.) ayato pretty much checked out a lot of those traits and i was like oh my gijrfjjwfjsjfd???????????

i was steadfast in my decision not to pull, i am capable and i will resist the temptations of this man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!........................ and then. the fanfics started coming out.

and this is why i love the genshin fanfic writing community so so much. they expand the characters into different situations and scenarios and they are SO good and it makes you fall more in love with a character and that is exactly what happened to me.... so i pulled for him aHHHHH

and omg about AYAKA. i freaking love the kamisato siblings and their relationship so much. that promotional video of ayaka getting her vision literally made me want to cry it was so good... the way ayato looks lovingly at his sister with pride and joy GAHHHHHHHHH they do something to me... i really want her too but i dont think i can afford to pull anymore ;o; so we are on the same boat right now, and we must stay strong sherry!!!! kazuha will come!!1.... soon... i hope.. hah :,]

i've actually had a little idea festering in my mind these past few days regarding ayato... new fic incoming?!?!?! set in the canon genshin universe but reader is arranged to marry ayato for political and/or convenience reasons. ayato and reader never meet before the arranged marriage, but when reader gets the proposal, they are embarrassingly quick to accept. i mean, it's the kamisato ayato. who wouldnt!

still, reader foolishly thought it wouldnt be a completely loveless marriage........ that is, until they realize they never see ayato since the day they were wed. he is always busy dealing with other matters and can never find the time to build the relationship between them. it is a sad marriage, but reader stands tall and takes their position as the yashiro commissioner's spouse very seriously. they get a lot of things done............. an encounter happens where reader confronts him about his absence. sum talks happen then their relationship slowly evolves.. and that's as far as i have thought about thus far!!!

+++ i’m also thinking of titling it “drawing our moments” as they go through the process of being an arranged wedded couple :D

let me know what u think!! im like getting jittery about it because i want to write about it but cant really find the time to sit and hunker down about this yet, but maybe in a few more weeks!! i will return to this and really start :Thinking:

thank u sooooooo much for ur kind words sherry, i am so appreciative and you do not know how much what you said at the end means to me!! i will be sure to take care of my health these ongoing weeks, and i hope you do too!!! <3 <3 <3

#asks * ੈ♡‧₊˚#talks * ੈ♡‧₊#sherry * ੈ♡‧₊˚#THE AYATO BRAINROT IS SO REAL

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

All That Remains, Chapter 8: The Flower Garden of the Woman Who Could Conjure [Part 5]

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2021, Day 3: Strength Upright: Compassion, Courage, Self-Control Reversed: Weakness, Doubt, Discord

Once upon a time, a troll makes a mirror.

Is that not how we started this story, so long ago? How so many start: a vile creature forges an object. Who and what change in the telling; a troll makes a mirror, a god conjures a box, knowledge grows in a garden. In the end, it is all the same: what is once contained is opened, unwitting. Or lost, foolishly, in a heart so cold and cruel that it becomes bent to another purpose entirely.

But that is merely an allegory, a fiction composed to cover the raw edges we leave when we rub against each other. For that is the truth, is it not? There is no fell creature, no capricious and omnipotent beings to blame for our misery. There is only us, carving our place in our story by smoothing pieces off another. A snow queen is not made from frost and cold but by the blades of others, slicing slivers from her flesh until only ice remains.

That is the truth we cannot bear: the only monsters we face are the ones we have made. The only poisons we drink are those human hands have brewed.

And it starts like this, always: a girl in a garden, remembering the image of a rose, and wondering, how could I have I forgotten?

“You were quiet at dinner tonight.” Shirayuki hasn’t been at court long-- or rather, in court, privy to all its secret signals and capricious undercurrents-- but she knows that this is as close to an “are you all right?” as Haki can come. If confrontation is only allowed the glint of a knife, affection is stifled to a hint of warmth, a fire made in a room one is forbidden to venture. “I hope that the meal agreed with you.”

A flash of pharmacy white flutters at the corner of her vision, frustratingly out of reach. It’s been so long since she’s been there, since she’s thought of anything but silverware and schottische; when she tries it’s like a hundred voices shouting at once, each demanding to be heard. Just like being at Lilias, heads bent over a knotty problem--

“Shirayuki.” The consort does not crouch; it’s best, Lady Mihoko often remind her, to pretend one has no anatomy beneath the waist. But Haki does perch on a cushioned stool, her brows drawn tight over the elegant line of her nose. “You are not...indisposed, I hope?”

A solid shake dispels the fog mired around her. “What? Oh, no! I only...” It would be a mistake to speak of loam between her fingers, of the satisfaction of hearing a pod snap from its stalk. “I didn’t have much to say with my, erm, conversational partners.”

Royal brows raise to stunned arches. “Is that so? I would have thought you’d find much in common with Lord Kazunori and Lord Seiichii.”

They had both been older men, southern lords drawn to court for Seiran’s summit. Kind enough, but they spoke to her as they would their own daughters, which is to say: warmly, but brief. Not of any topics that one might sink their teeth into, lest it leaving lines around her mouth.

“I think they were more interested in talking to each other than to me,” she admits. In part because of her sex, and in part because-- well, her body may have been in that chair, obscuring the twining gods and goddess painted across it, but her mind had been a wing away, wondering if it was yet time to harvest the roku berries, or whether this year’s crop of apprentices knew akegi from yura shigure. “It seems there’s much to discuss before they all meet for, ah...discussion.”

Haki hands her a rueful smile. “There always is.” With a sigh, she sweeps to standing, as statuesque as any marble in Wistal’s halls. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing for it. I’ll have to ask the majordomo to find you some more scintillating seatmates tomorrow.”

“Ah..!” Tomorrow. Never had a day seemed so far away, so much more than a handful of hours between dawn and dusk. At Lilias, the nights had wavered between seasons, some so short she hardly slept between sun set and rise; and others so long that she woke in darkness, only to leave the lab in the same. But still, none seemed so long as this, and for no reason at all.

“Is something wrong?” Haki turns to her again, concern rumpling the curved lines of her mouth. “Do you have plans...?”

“No!” Shirayuki rushes to assure her. “It’s only...you mentioned dinner, and suddenly I felt so...”

“Weary?” Haki offers, when she won’t. Her eyes soften with mouth to match, smile turning her from heavenly to beatific. “I’m not surprised. You have been hard at work these last few months.”

And hardly anything to show for it, in Lady Mihoko’s learned opinion. Shirayuki bites back a groan. She would be sixty before that woman found her approaching passable, and even then, she still wouldn’t be good enough for a prince’s wife. Not when his children might have some chance, no matter how slim, of seating their sullied bloodline on the throne of Clarines.

“Perhaps you have earned a break.” Shirayuki blinks, staring up into the consort’s glowing face. “A private dinner seems in order. A night of no pressure of expectation.”

It sounds too good to be true. “Oh, no! I couldn’t--”

“Give me but a moment.” Haki hesitates at the door to her boudoir, lips lifted in an impish grin. “Perhaps my good brother might find himself available as well?”

Her mouth snaps shut. It’s been ages since she saw Zen, just the two of them. He came to dinner rarely-- understandable, with the summit only weeks away, and entirely under his purview, despite Seiran’s tacit position as host-- and where he went, Mitsuhide and Kiki went too. Haki had been her closest companion these past few weeks, the only friendly face, but Shirayuki longed for someone who didn’t look at her and see a princess, but--

Nervous energy courses through her, jolting her to her feet. Her hands itch, wanting for something to do, and with no plants to hand, they land upon the package on the receiving table. It’s wrapped in humble brown paper, folds clean and crisp, twine tightly tied. Haki’s medication, she realizes, dropping it from her numb hands. Made in the pharmacy. There’s a note on top-- instructions. She’d recognize them anywhere; after all, she’d written more than a few of them herself.

It’s curiosity that makes her pluck it from where it sits. It’s been ages since she’s been in the lab, but her knowledge hasn’t faded; there’s no harm in seeing whether there are any mistakes. An apprentice could have made this, after all. The dose does, as Garack was so fond of saying, make the poison.

She flips open the card, already flushed with the thought of being useful, but--

It’s not some apprentice’s writing at all. Oh no, she knows this spidery scrawl all too well. It was on every jar at her bench, every treatise she read late into the night.

It’s Ryuu’s.

Ignorance is bliss, they say. Always with a laugh, but stewing beneath it is envy and longing in equal measure. A pining for times past, for a childhood never quite as innocent as we remember.

For that is what we miss: innocence. Not the not-knowing, but state of not needing to know. The trust we felt towards those who always knew in our stead, who kept us safe from the dangers that pressed in around us. The ones who protected us with little lies; the small pauses to omit what might scare us, the careful editing to make our worlds the giddy fantasy we dreamed.

But there comes a day where all children must grow up. There is a day we must know these things for ourselves, so that we may see the world with clear eyes. For even innocence can be a cage, should some other hand try to lock you within it.

Ignorance is bliss, they say, but oh, only if they can keep you from knowing what it is you do not know.

May I ask you a question? the little girl asks, her gaze no longer on the garden, but the horizon beyond. It is bent in her vision, the glass made in such a way that each diamond blows out the edges, warping the world around it. She had never noticed when she looked only at the garden so near to it, but now...

Now the imperfection is all she can see.

Anything, the sorceress replies, her fingers wrapping around the caps of her shoulders. They’re cold, as cold as the glass beneath her palms.

The girl looks at their reflection, at the way the wave of the glass make those fingers bleed into talons. Where have the roses gone?

Shirayuki’s hands tremble, her eyes tracing every last loop, every hurried curve. “I didn’t...”

Haki peers around the jamb, letter folded in her hand. “Did you say something, my dear?”

This is the closest she’s been to Ryuu in months; even from where she holds it, the scene of lavender and akegi shigure waft from its paper. Not scented, not on purpose, but just from being left in a desk’s cubbyhole with his hastily tidied samples. His parchment smelt the same in Lilias, fragrant as the hothouses themselves.

Her chest can hardly contain her breath. “I didn’t realize that Ryuu was overseeing your treatment.”

A shadow flickers over the sorceress’s face, her grip painful for but a moment before she is her usual smiling self. A moment that could have been imagined, if only the girl was so sure it was not.

Roses? the sorceress asks airily. I’ve never grown any roses.

“Excuse me?”

“It only makes sense,” Shirayuki hurries to add, placing the card back atop the package. “He’s taken over for Chief Garack, and she always oversaw the royal--”

“Shirayuki.” Her name is firm from Haki’s lips, just shy of a scold. “I’m quite sorry but...who are you talking about?”

So many tales speak of trust as a blade, one that may be used to cut, that breaks when forged from brittle iron. A weapon, wielded and forgotten on the battlefield once the story is done.

But you and I know better: trust is a spell, woven to protect. It is a shield, unseen but always felt; sense by faith and not by fingers. And when it wavers, it does not break, does not shatter like a blade upon a stone; no, nothing so dramatic as that. Instead, it frays, unwoven one thread at a time, unnoticed until--

Until the hole can no longer be ignored.

She doesn’t leave the consort’s chambers meaning to break her curfew; oh no, when the door closes behind her, Shirayuki has every intention to head straight to her own. Her feet drag beneath her, weary from contorting herself into a mold that barely fits. There’s nothing she’d like more than to divest herself of all these courtly trappings and pass effortlessly into oblivion.

But she turns a corner, her mental map of the palace resolving, and she realizes: in one direction is her room, and in the other, the pharmacy. It’s late, but Ryuu would still be there, committing his last-minute thoughts to page while the offices emptied around him. She misses him, a longing so intense it aches.

It would only be a short visit. If Izana brought her before him in the morning, trying to act as both judge and jury-- well, Ryuu would be her physician, once she and Zen finally managed to make it down the aisle hand-in-hand. It only made sense to keep a cordial relationship with the man who would bear the next branch of the Wisteria tree into the world.

And if she missed him, the boy who straddled the line of friend and brother and son both-- there was no need to explain that to the king. It wasn’t as if Izana made a habit of confessing his ulterior motives to her. Though strangely, she thought he might understand that better than anyone.

Or all but one. And he...

Well, if there was a single person who might know where he went besides her, her feet were carrying her to him now/.

Were you to ask the girl, she would say she had not chosen night on purpose. The sorceress had housed her, fed her, loved her in her way; even with the image of the rose burned behind her eyes, she trusted her still, in the desperate way one does when one knows they should not, but cannot bear to contemplate why.

Opportunity chooses for her; the late afternoon sun burns hot, and when they finish their dinner, the sorceress excuses herself to lay down in the dark, to merely rest her eyes-- and does not wake, not even when the door creaks as the girl slips around it. The moon guides her steps when she walks into the garden, bright as the day itself, but she does not need it: her feet carrying her better than memory could.

There is one there, just as there was this morning: a petal, pink and sweet, fragrance so familiar she knew it even without sight.

Come out, she murmurs, digging her hands into the earth. Come out my lovely, my dear. I have been searching just for you.

A tendril spirals up from the ground, tentative. It flips and flaps, and oh, she is too shocked, too awed to help it. Even still, it finds her, wrapping around her finger, and with a single drop of blood the bush emerges, whole and dirt-smeared, from the soil.

What, it murmurs, impatience tinging its words, took you so long?

In the day, the pharmacy is all rush and chaos: apprentices burning tinctures and ushering patients to their rooms; masters emptying drawers as soon as they are filled, only for other herbalists to hurry to replace them. Guards arrive with injuries and nobles with ailments, no moment ever dull while the doors are open.

But at this hour, when the lords and ladies are all tucked in their beds-- or are at least pretending to be-- and the work is done, the pharmacy sleeps. There is no herbalist at the front desk, only the push bell Ryuu despised when she was his apprentice, since it always meant she would be pulled away from him or he away from his project.

A necessary nuisance, he called it once, and Obi had laughed. Just like me, eh, Miss?

She no longer remembers what she said-- it was early enough when he was one still, though she’d like to think she was too kind to say it-- but now she wishes, even if just for a moment, that she could tell him how much of a gift he was to her. How much he had made tedium bearable, even when she hadn’t known it for what it was.

Instead she bites her lips, rubbing at the ache in her breast. It’s hardly the first time she’s forgotten to say what matters, but-- but this won’t be her last chance. Obi might be away now, but he will be found, and she will tell him...

Everything. Every last thought she had since the moment they last spoke; her apologies and her worries, her failures and her triumphs. Because Obi hearing them-- that’s what makes them real.

Her hand wraps around the third door’s knob by habit; even now she expects to open it and see her projects spilled across her desk, to see a curtain closed beneath the other, and a window open between them. To see it waiting for her the way her heart waits for them, empty and waiting to be filled.

But there’s nothing of them there anymore. Nothing besides memories that no longer fit over the space it has become.

Her feet carry her onward, down to the last room, a sliver of light slipping across the hall where it’s been left ajar. She still expects to see a curled mass of blonde hair bent over the desk, long tables sprawled with books and half-finished studies, a bottle of roka medicinally sitting in the corner. But instead--

Instead it is a dark one, a riotous shrubbery of walnut and teak in desperate need of pruning. That had been her job in Lilias, along with Yuzuri’s helpful hands, but is seems no one here has yet talked the Chief Herbalist to task.

Give it a few years, Garack would tell her, and he’ll have herbalists as eager to get into his hair as you three were with me.

She leans against the jamb, a sigh slipping past where her heart clogs her throat. Ryuu had once fit beneath a desk half this size, and now he towers over it even seated, looking more and more like Shidan with each passing day, a man overgrown by time and deadlines.

“Ryuu.” It’s a palpable hit when their eyes meet. Everything else about him might change, but that gaze, so wide and thoughtful-- that never does.

Until now. One moment they spark, a fire lit behind blue glass, and the next...

It gutters, his gaze slipping away.

“Shirayuki.” His voice is so much deeper than in her memory, so much older. And colder too. “Excuse me, Lady Shirayuki. Is there something you need?”

“No.” She clings to the doorway, too aware of how fine her dress is, of how little it belongs in this place, his sanctum sanctorum. How little she belong here, now. “I saw a card you wrote to the consort, and I...wanted to see you.”

“A card?” His eyebrows twitch; she can no longer tell if it’s in surprise or confusion, not on this stranger’s face. “Ah. The powder for her migraines. Did you want some as well?”

“No, I’m-- I’m well.” It feels like a lie, even as she says it. It wouldn’t have, only hours ago. “I just...I’m here for you.”

His knuckles blanch where he grips his pencil. “Well, you’ve seen me. I trust you know your way out.”

You’re too late, too late, the roses say, their sing-song jangling in her ears. I’ve been hidden away for so long, and even now I cannot find him. The betrayal in their voice is thick when they ask, How could you forget us, your flower and your boy, when we have always grown together?

“Ryuu.” It leaves her lips cracked, broken; her mouth no longer knows how to form the shape that calls to him. “I know it’s been...a while, but please don’t think that I didn’t want to-- that I wasn’t thinking about you. I just...”

His pencil pauses on the page, but he does not speak. He just looks at her, the way he would at a stranger, and this room is suddenly a desert and ocean both, too far and deep to go by foot alone.

Still, there is nothing she will not brave, not for him. “It was hard to come,” she admits. “I’m not allowed in the gardens, and I’m not allowed to take patients. Coming here, watching everyone working the way I always have...”

It would have been like watching someone eat a feast while she was starving.

His eyes soften, even if they don’t precisely thaw. “I know that you’re marrying the prince, and that you don’t have time for m--” his lips press tight-- “this. I’m not upset because you’ve set your career aside.”

“But you are...” Her words limp as she says them, wounded fawns searching of an elusive mother. “You are upset.”

His hands flex as he places them on the wood, utterly silent. “I knew...” he breathes, so harsh it scrapes her own throat too. “I knew you’d have to give things up--important things. But...”

Ryuu had always spoken slowly, thoughtfully. But still, these moments when he meant what he said, when he composed rather than conversed-- it had never taken him to long to tell her what he meant. He trusted her, knew that even if his words came out garbled or his message was lost in a sea of ellipses, she would salvage it, gluing it back together with his intention.

So when he sits silent, it wounds her almost as much as his words.

At last his gaze lifts again from his work, but the glare he fixes on her-- “But I never thought you’d let one of them be Obi.”

Her mouth works, but the well from which she draws her reason is empty, leaving only pain in its wake.

“I didn’t...I didn’t let him leave,” she murmurs, more wind than whisper. “He never told me he was going. He just left without even...”

Saying goodbye. As if all these years had meant nothing at all.

“There’s a guardsman,” she says instead, her voice trembling toward something approaching even. “He said he saw Obi leave with--” a woman-- “someone.”

Ryuu grunts.

“He ran off with Torou, once.” She wants the words to come easy, but each one emerges from her trembling, the way her fingers are against her skirts. “On the way back from Tanbarun. That’s...that’s probably what this is. An old friend that needs help, and then he’ll come right back--.”

“He won’t.”

Each breath is a stab, deep in her chest. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He stands; a production with how much of him there is now. Cautiously, his hand extends, a fist hovering over the knotted wood of his desk.

It takes all her courage to take the first step, and all of it again to take the next. On and on until she’s crossed the room, hand outstretched, quivering beneath his own.

His palm opens, and into hers falls...a seed. Tiny. Blue. As clear as glass.

“An orbia seed?” Shirayuki lifts it up to the light, the plumule a hazy bead nestled in its luminous cotyledon. It’s impossible to tell by sight, but still, she’s sure-- it would germinate, if she planted it. “I was collecting these before we left.”

“I know.”

“It’s funny,” she murmurs, a smile lifting her mouth. “I never did find a blue one.”

“I know.” His explanation comes in fits and starts, a path never worn in the telling. “I had one. I gave it to Obi.”

“You...?” The thought catches in the light, just like the seed between her fingers. “Oh. Oh. But...” Her mouth curls, a silent question: why?

“I don’t know. I thought he might...” Ryuu’s shoulders twitch, as narrow as Obi’s when he first blew in with the wind. Before he settled into the man he became. “When he was ready...”

Of course. Her hand closes tight around the seed. Obi had what she needed all along. And she’d never known, not until...

Not until he was gone. “Where--?”

“I found it on my desk.” Ryuu’s fingers flex, falling by his side. “The morning after he left.”

Where did he go? the little girl asks, desperation choking her as surely as her tears. Where can I find him?

How should I know? the roses reply, thorns in their words as well as their stems. You are the one who left me buried under the ground. How could I watch him when you let us be trapped together?

“Did you...” Her mouth works, cutting itself against her question. “Did you tell Zen’s men, when they came? Do they know that he...?”

Said goodbye, she cannot say, to someone at least.

“No.” Ryuu blinks, his eyes as round and innocent and blue as ever. “They never did. Come by I mean.”

This is not the first time we have spoken of betrayal, is it? Of the wound that never heals, the jagged cut that scabs over only to be ripped open anew. The injury that teaches one to be wary, lest one be inflicted again.

But that is only after the wound is made. When it is first done...

Well, it is strange how long a heart can bear a blade through it without ever feeling the killing stroke.

“You are thinking,” Haruka remarks, with no small amount of disapproval. “I can tell.”

Shirayuki blinks down at her place setting, expecting to see broth dripped across the tablecloth, or perhaps the edge of her sleeve dipped in yolk, maybe even her tea dribbling over the edge of her cup--

But there is nothing. The white linen is pristine beneath her gold-rimmed plate, her sleeves and elbows tucked up and off the table, and if anything, her beverages of choice are picturesque in their vessels, juice beading with moisture and tea gently steaming. “What am I doing wrong?”

It, historically, has been the wrong question to ask the marquis, sure to send him into a silent huff that will stretch from first course to fifth, disapproval deepening with each sorbet. In his vaunted opinion, the fact her inexperience might cause her to trespass the unspoken rules of good manners is bad enough, but to not know precisely when and how it was done-- now that was truly unforgivable.

However, today he merely settles back in his seat, rubbing his fingers against the cloth tucked over his lap, and fixes her with his unerring gaze. She doesn’t shrink beneath it; oh no, instead something in her chest shifts, almost as if-- as if it grows.

His lips twitch, just the slightest upward tremor. “Nothing.”

Her mouth opens, then closes, stymied. “Then how did you know?”

A single, noble arch lifts. “Because you have never once stopped.”

It is to the tiger-lily the little girl turns, after the roses. They are a pompous flower, no doubt, as proud and self-important as any big cat, but despite their bluster, they are honest. The noblest flower in this garden, hearty and constant, and though they sniff when she kneels down upon their bed, dirtying her hem, they listen.

Have you seen him? she asks, heart lodged tight in her throat. Have you seen my precious boy?

“So what is it,” Haruka murmurs into his glass, “that has you so engrossed, young lady?”

Her lips press together, teeth plucking at the scar. “You told me once that I should know who is my ally, and who is my-- Zen’s.”

The rim has hardly touched his lips, but Haruka sets down the crystal, hands folding behind his plate. “I did.”

“But those are not the one two options, are they.” It’s not a question, not anymore. “Sometimes they may seem to be one or the other, or both at the same time, but really-- it’s their own, isn’t it? Everyone is just trying to do what they think best.”

“That is...” The marquis takes in a steady breath. “A very mature way to see a frustrating problem.”

“The consort has said that she is my friend,” she says slowly, each word shaken loose from her heart. “But she is also lying to me.”

“Is she?”

Haruka, she had said once, these long skirts tangled around her legs, binding fast as any chain, he’s hard to read.

Is he? Zen’s hand was cold against hers, like touching marble. Izana’s had been the same so many years ago; she wonders if it might be a problem with their circulation, perhaps passed down from a parent, but this doesn’t seem the time to ask about his mother’s medical history. He’s always seemed clear as crystal to me.

Though, he continues, mouth set in a rueful grin. After a childhood of lectures, maybe it’s easier. I can tell how stupid he thinks I am just from the degree of his eyebrows.

His brow is furrowed now, a tight knot over the bridge of his nose. There’s no angle, no lift, and Shirayuki isn’t quite sure what that might say about his perception of her intelligence. If it were anyone else, she might even call it concern.

“Is she lying to you,” he asks, posing it like Lata when he wants to ask something particularly perverse as a rhetorical. “Or are you not asking the right questions?”

Her fingers clench tight on her lap, linen rucking up between her fingers. She likes this far less than Lata’s. “Your Grace...”

Now his brows raise, shock stark on his face, “Yes, Miss Shirayuki?”

“Do you...?” The words stick in her mouth; to ask them is to admit defeat. No-- distrust. That the best interests everyone has been working towards are not her own. “Do you know where Obi is?”

I have seen no precious boy, the tiger lily trumpets, as proud as ever. Only a little girl loved by all who see her. How lucky she is to garner such attention!

I care not for me, the little girls mutters, impatient. Where do you think he has gone?

Away, away. The flower bobs beneath its own self-importance. He has been taken away. Down and gone and buried with the roses. Perhaps you are the better for it.

“No.” It’s the truth; he wouldn’t bother to lie to her. “As of now, his location is unknown, even to the king himself.”

She licks her lips, nails biting into her thigh. The orbia seed burns a hole in her hip. “Are they looking for him?”

A shadow ripples over his face, gone before she can follow it to its source. “Someone might be.”

“I mean Zen,” she clarifies. “Or Izana.”

“I know,” he replies, voice impossibly gentle from such a forbidding mouth. “I think we’re ready for the next course, don’t you?”

Innocence and ignorance, truth and illusion, trust and betrayal-- we have meditated upon each, as if they are but separate concepts that can be held to the light and have each facet revealed in turn. But surely you seen that they have all brought us here, to this part, to this singular place: a knife buried in a breast, a garden made into a cage. A girl in each, who has finally seen the truth beneath the illusion.

We should rejoice, should we not? For these girls who might free themselves, might heal themselves? But yet you do not, do you? For you know the trick of it:

A wound does not truly begin to bleed until the blade is removed. And a girl like this--

Ah, her hand is already at the hilt.

For once, Shirayuki is relieved that it is her round-faced guard that awaits her and not a more experienced one. Or worse yet, Kiki, who would anticipate her before she could get a word in edgewise.

But luck is on her side; this dear boy springs from his place on the wall, every muscle tense with anticipation, quivering to do his duty, and she-- she is ready to take advantage of it.

“Ready, my lady?” he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a hound eager to be given his leash. “It’s off to the ballroom next, isn’t it? With Master--?”

“Not today,” Shirayuki informs him swiftly. “I need you to take me to the king.”

The color leaches from his face. “The...the k-king?”

She nods, tight, officious. The sort Lady Mihoko gave her maids; the sort that belonged alongside a command obeyed.

“But, my lady...” He shuffles on his feet, loath to disappoint her. “Don’t you need an appointment to see His Majesty? I don’t think you can just go right in and--”

She’s already walked past him, chin held high. “He’ll see me.”

It may seem humble before the dawn, its petals as rumpled as bedsheets, drawn over its head like a child-- but when the sun casts its fiery crown over the garden, it is the convolvulus that is ascendant. It needs no dazzling pattern, no fanciful pinwheel of petal and sepal to make itself stand above its floral brethren, but only purity of color. For there is no other here that is so purely white, that has a color so simply blue. The tiger lily might roar among the plots, but it is to the convolvulus it bends, when it rises from its nightly slumber.

The little girl watches as the sleep falls from its petals, witness to its splendor. What, it asks, ruffling its delicate mane, could have made you seek me out, girl?

There is a not-insignificant portion of her life that has been spent waiting; not in the way of most of her colleagues-- for water to boil, or a titration to drip, or even for a letter of acceptance to arrive-- but for men with nothing else to recommend them but birth to decide they’re bored enough to receive the royal pharmacist. Shidan had called it fundraising and Kazaha glad-handing, but Shirayuki can admit now, as she flies past Izana’s steward, leaving him and her guard in her wake, what it really is:

Insulting.

The view always arrests her when she enters the royal solar, and this morning is no different; the sun setting, finishing its bright arc through the sky, but the angle of it, with the windows as they are-- it sets the king’s hair alight, a halo burning.

A target, she names grimly; and she the arrow. With his steward calling her name behind her, she takes a determined step toward him.

“Have you not heard then?” Izana asks, hardly bothering to look up from his papers. “I already approved your request to be excused from dinner.”

Shirayuki hauls up short, skirts swishing around her ankles. “Dinner?”

“Yes.” His brows raise, as does his gaze, already bored. “My brother already spoke about at length this morning. So if you seek to move me as well, please note that I have already stepped aside.”

“I...” She blinks. “I wasn’t here for that.”

Interest sparks in his eyes, quick as a struck match. “Then by all means, scold away. At least--” his mouth quirks, too amused-- “I assume that is your intention, marching into my office unannounced as you are.”

“Forgive me.” The steward presses a hand to his heaving breast. “Mistress Shirayuki--”

“It a force of nature,” his master replies, mouth curling like parchment corners. “So I have often had occasion to find out. You may leave us.”

“Your Majesty--” Izana merely lifts his brows, and the man stutters to a stop. “Of course. As you wish.”

“Now,” he hums as the doors close. “Just which wind sent this storm spinning into my office?”

Bound here you might be, but I know the trick of this place, the girl says, kneeing at the bed’s edge. What roots grow here touch the roots of all the morning’s glory. And you who wake with the sun-- you keep the closest watch on the horizon.

If there are any in the garden who know of my precious boy, she continues, the breeze rippling the convolvulus’s ruff. It would be you. So tell me, please...have you see him?

“It’s Obi,” she admits, heat stinging her cheeks. “I want to know the, er, status of the search.”

Izana blinks.

Oh, how kind it would be if this confusion was feigned, if it were all just a show to drag out her loyalties; to force her to admit that even if Zen was her heart, she could not turn her back on her home. That this was simply another moment where she would show him that friendship was strength, and the walls he erected himself were merely a folly.

But there is no smug satisfaction buoying his words when he asks, “The search? Didn’t Sir Obi leave my brother’s employ months ago? The beginning of the summer, I believe--”

“He didn’t quit,” Shirayuki insists, even as the seed weighs heavy between her skirts. “He disappeared, and Zen said he had put men out to search for him.”

A flower has no face, but the girl need no smile, no hooded eyes to discern the sorrowful bent of its stem.

I am but the morning’s glory, the convolvulus sighs, and when the night comes, I fold myself tight. Your boy does not pass me in my waking hours, so perhaps it is that he travels in the night.

But what does that mean? asks the girl. Why would he only travel at night? He is but a boy, a boy, and he walks in day.

The convolvulus is quiet, swaying in the garden’s eternal summer. I do not know, he admits. I do not know at all.

“Ah.” His eyes soften, no longer the unrelenting velvet of the night, but the waves of deep water, and Shirayuki finally has cause to find out: to experience Izana’s pity is a thousand times worse than his disdain. “I am not privy to the movement of my brother’s men, so long as I do not need them in attendance. He must not have put in his last report...”

“Please.” Her hand flies up between them, earning her an incredulous lift of a brow. “It only makes it worse that you are being decent about it.”

His laugh surprises her. “So you’d like me to gloat?”

“No.” Her breath saws out of her, great heaves that shake her shoulders. “I want you to grant me leave to find him.”

“You?” His brows raise, even his eyes widen, but to his credit, he does not ask, but what could you do? Instead his mask settles back over his face without a ripple, the king staring out from behind it. “It would be a waste. I have heard from your tutors that you are making good progress. Lady Mihoko even ventured to say you might make a passable princess, if you pushed out an heir fast enough.”

Her mouth twitches. Only yesterday, she would have nearly fainted with relief, but today-- “What praise.”

There’s a stern tilt to his mouth, a forbidding set to his eyebrows; if she didn’t know any better, Shirayuki would call it concern. “As I recall, our agreement did address this.”

“Then you mean...?”

“Yes.” He nods, splaying his palms across his desk, almost as if he were bracing himself. “If you leave the palace grounds, you forfeit your chance to be the one at my brother’s side. A princess leaves such things in the hands of her guardsmen--” his mouth twitches-- “and her husband.”

You want her to go, do you not? Even now you quiver at the edge of your seat, begging this little girl to open her eyes, to keep them open, to see through the illusion and run as fast as she can. You want her to leave the garden, to break through the last of this enchantment and leave safety behind.

But tell me, what would you do, with the knife quivering it in your chest? To forget it is to live with the pain. To remove it is to be free.

An easy choice, you might say. Who could live with a blade in their breast? Ah, but do not forget:

There is no way to know if the wound is fatal until the knife is removed.

“There is something I wonder, Mistress Shirayuki.”

His musings shatter the brittle silence between them; that fragile bulwark that has kept her in his skin. Now that it’s gone, she trembles, every muscle in her body fighting the urge to cross the king’s study and shake him until decency falls it.

A hopeless quest if there ever was one. “Is there something else you could possibly say to me?”

She says it sweetly; most would hear only that-- the tone rather than the content. But Izana has not sat so long on his father’s throne by being that sort of man; no, his mouth curls, amused.

“No. It’s only...” he hums, gaze lifting from his paper. “I wonder when you started to think Obi left.”

Then what do you know? the girl says, anger and bile rising in her tone. What good are you?

A flower cannot smile, but she feels teeth when it replies, I know that it will cost you, and cost you dear.

Izana might as well have struck her. Shirayuki rocks back on her heels, only just catching herself before she trips over her own hem. “I-I...what do you...?”

“When you came in here, you first talked as you had before.” Long fingers knit beneath his chin, though he does not deign to rest on them, not alert as he is. A cat before a kill, still toying with with the prey between his paws. “You insisted on his disappearance-- the implication being, of course, that you deny his own agency in his departure. Kidnapping or coercion, one might say.”

She cannot see its teeth, but Shirayuki isn’t so foolish to believe there is no trap. “Y-yes..”

“But now you come to me and ask after my men.” His mouth quirks. “You ask for my permission.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” she asks, fingers clenching in her skirts. “A princess wouldn’t depart without the approval of her liege.”

“Of course.” He waves a hand, as if all those rules she spent late nights learning mean nothing at all, as if they were worth less than the paper on which they had been printed. “A princess would. But you, Miss Shirayuki, you--” his eyes spark, the way she only saw that night in Lilias as he closed the gates-- “you jump from windows. You follow a flower into a cave. If you truly believed your companion in danger, I doubt there is a single promise that would keep you by my side.”

She cannot breathe, let alone hazard an answer. Not when even a flutter of an eyelash could give her away.

“Which begs the question, doesn’t it?” His gaze fixes her to where she stand, pins through a moth’s wings. “Just what reason would make him leave?”

Me? the girl cries, already thinking of her lovely red shoes, of the boat they bought her down the river. Why me?

Because my dear, the convolulus hums. It is your fault that he has left.

The doors swing open, and the steward steps inside, sparing her an infuriatingly smug glance. “Sir Lowen, Your Majesty.”

“A moment,” the king tells him, “Mistress Shirayuki and I are nearly done her.”

The man nods. “I will tell him to await your will.”

Shirayuki blinks. “What--?” It’s trial to catch her breath, to make her heart stop pounding in her breast. “What is Mitsuhide doing here?”

“You need an escort to your dinner, do you not? I thought he would be the most palatable option for you.” Izana fixes her with a meaningful look. “I do hope you find your answers, Mistress Shirayuki.”

You don’t know me. Obi’s gaze is raw in her memory, too gold. You don’t know anything about me.

You know how he is. Zen’s smile curls at the edges, brittle, like parchment pasted to vellum. Obi has always come back on his own before.

Zen will take care of it. Mitsuhide won’t meet her gaze. I’m sure Obi will be back any day now.

“Don’t worry.” It’s a miracle that the words don’t catch between her teeth, the way she’s clenching them. “I will.”

A hand wraps around a hilt. A breath shudders. And with one, swift tug--

The blade moves but an inch.

#obiyukiweek21 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #All That Remains #snow queen au #ans #YET ANOTHER CHAPTER #WHERE I DO NOT REACH THE END OF THIS PART #it's coming guys #really it is...#...one day....#but at least you get this small glimmer of hope #FOR NOW

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joezworld · 3 years

Note

Any headcanons about Ever Ace and the other new A-class Evergreen ships? This totally isn’t just because I love your version of Ever Given and want more of her and her family XD

The following is an excerpt from How to Avoid Huge Ships, Or: I Never Met a Ship I Liked by Capt. John W. Trimmer (National Writers Press, 1982)

Chapter 14: The Emotional State of Ships

For most captains, the emotional state of a seagoing vessel (other than your own, of course) is often seen as irrelevant - after all, who cares if the seven hundred foot tanker about to run over you and your ketch is a nice person or not?

However, like many common beliefs in the marine industry, this is an incorrect one. The mental state of vessels is vital to continued safe navigation.

First, we must mention the obvious: An unhappy ship is a dangerous ship. Think about the last time you drove to the store while upset. Now pretend you weighed several thousand tons and required a mile and a half to stop in an emergency. I imagine your car insurance premiums might be a bit higher, no?

Then we must mention Fleets.

Allow me to explain: While this may be seen as a massively reductive statement, most large vessels (and most living machines for that matter, including commercial aircraft, railway locomotives, and even large dragline cranes) are best viewed as pack animals. When left alone to their own devices (and the growing economic benefits of 'machine autonomy' have meant that more shipping lines are allowing ships to go off by themselves!) vessels will often form a "fleet", as they call them, which substitutes for what we humans would call a joint family.

A fleet may include any number of vessels and relationship combinations, ranging from a number of single vessels who consider themselves siblings, to sets of separate married couples, and even groups of non-monogamous vessels whose conduct would make a Mormon blush. That being said, regardless of type, bonds formed in this manner are extremely strong, and will often overcome any difference between vessels - see the growing trend of former US Pacific Fleet vessels and their former Imperial Japanese Navy spouses!

Now, what does any of this have to do with the continued safety of marine navigation, I hear you ask? Well, let me put it to you in the simplest terms possible:

If you were to wrong me in some way, I might decide to take legal action against you, or I might lick my wounds and walk away. I might even go to the police if the offense were serious enough.

If you were to wrong a ship, and the offense were serious enough, they wouldn't lick their wounds, they wouldn't pursue legal action, and they most certainly would not go to the police. Most ships believe quite strongly in the merits of what could be charitably called 'extrajudicial punishment'. Most ships, if they are in such a relationship, would bring this to the attention of their fleet-mates, at which point you would not have one, but several, maybe even a dozen, extremely large and extremely angry ships going after you.

Of course, any discussion of the often-overlooked subject of Fleets is incomplete without at least a brief mention of the US/Canadian Great Lakes Fleet, which has managed to continuously add to their numbers through a process they call 'Lake-napping'...

-----

April, 2021 - Great Bitter Lake, Suez, Egypt

The Egyptians were insane, Given concluded. Aside from the obvious - where in the name of all that floated was she going to get nine hundred million US Dollars? - they'd actually called their Navy on her, like some kind of Triad enforcer making sure a mark didn't get away without paying.

He was a tiny ship, really - some old design that made its priorities clear, judging from his open-air flying bridge and thick hull, but the massive anti-ship missile pods on his aft deck showed he could punch well above his weight.

She'd tried speaking to him, but they didn't have a language in common - and that was impressive all on its own. From the short, clipped sentences, and badly accented Arabic, he seemed both Eastern European and decidedly unfriendly.

As the sun set on the end of the first week of what might be a very long stay in Egypt, she wondered if the line might abandon her here. The cheap fucks had already been making noise about replacing her with another, bigger ship, but Ace - still in the shipyard, but already proving herself to be just as loud and annoying as any proper 20,000+ TEU ship, bless her - had made enough noise about "not being a rebound date" that their hand had been forced.

Of course, that was all before the Egyptians decided that they wanted nine hundred million dollars, so who knows?

Another ship went by - the backlog still wasn't through, and convoys continued at all hours. This one was one from CMA CGM, and while she couldn't quite catch his name in the dark, she could absolutely catch the scathing French insults being hurled her way as he passed by.

"Je parle français, toi voilier sans hélice." She sniped at him, relishing in the startled yelp that trailed him into the night. The tugboats pulling him along laughed, and he growled at them as he moved further into the lake.

The missile boat looked at her with what might have been admiration, but it didn't stop him from keeping his guns trained on her as he changed his watch position to a spot off of her stern.

She honestly considered running - the mockery she'd get once she left Egypt might be too much.

As the next ship in line approached, she got a ping on one of the company radio frequencies.

Tuning in, her brow furrowed in confusion - now that everyone had satellite internet downlinks, internet chatrooms had become the primary communication method across the fleet. Evergreen Lines ships had all gravitated towards Discord instead of WeChat or Line, but their server had been strangely silent for most of the last week.

Opening the channel, she caught a flash of a call sign - What was Elpida doing out here? Wasn't she on the Australia run?

"Don't say a word, we've got it under control."

"You what? Who's we?"

Elpida swept past , literally - she was breaking the speed limit for this part of the lake, and had probably been doing so in the Canal too - the ropes to her tugs were taut, and judging by the Arabic screaming, they were trying to get her to slow down or at least let go. She was high in the water - her decks empty of containers - what the hell was going on?

Given was too big for the swells to affect her, but the Egyptian Navy ship wasn't, and he yelped in whatever his native language was as he rocked and rolled in Elpida's wake.

Behind her, a distant cry that sounded suspiciously like the word "Now!" rang out, followed by a deafening cacophony of foghorns.

She'd shut down her radar - because what really was the point? - and it took a worrying few seconds for the Furuno system to spin to life and return a clear result.

Or... what might be a clear result.

All hell seemed to be breaking out behind her - the convoy had broken formation and was going in what seemed like every direction possible. At least ten ships were now going berserk behind her.

The Navy ship, by far the smallest vessel out there, (except the tugs, who were fleeing for their lives, it seemed) spun around towards the main shipping lane.

Collision alarms immediately started wailing on the Canal's common channel as a very large blip on the radar screen (Who turned off their AIS transponders in the Canal?) slowly swung towards him.

The Egyptian seemed stunned for a moment - he'd drifted back into Given's range of vision, and his expression ranged between sheer horror and mildly poleaxed - before he calmed himself and stood down the ship bearing down on him.

That calm look lasted for a few minutes, but as the blip got closer and closer his confidence faded. The doors to his missile pods swung open, but his nerve broke before he could fire them, and the water around his stern frothed up into a roiling tempest as he set off at full astern.

It wasn't enough. He'd held his ground for just long enough for the other ship to reach him.

Slowly - this whole event was playing out in breathless slow motion, because nobody was actually that speedy - a bulbous bow, riding high out of the water without a load of containers, ploughed towards him. It was followed by a bowsprit, one that was so huge it looked like it could have been Given's own.

Then came the name: EVER ACE.

Then came the collision.

Ace (?!) didn't so much collide with the Egyptian ship as she drove over him. His low freeboard meant that the impact with her bulbous bow had his far side dipping into the water. Once his deck hit the swells, it acted like a giant scoop, and his keel was to the night sky within a few seconds. He'd been hit at an angle, so once he'd been pushed free, he slowly rolled back up, a much more traumatized and injured vessel than he had been a minute ago. More importantly, the water gushing out of his missile tubes meant that he was no longer a problem.

"Hey!" Ace boomed as her pilothouse drew even with Given. "Best Sea Trials Ever!"

Behind her, another ship - this one laden and looking a lot like Golden - steamed by. "Stop hanging around and get her out of here!"

"That would be my cue." Another voice called from behind her.

"Tex?" He was in Manila!

"Who else would it be?" Texas Triumph, thick Texan accent and all, steamed up. "now let's jus' get you settled up here and we'll blow this joint."

"This is a rescue?!"

"For sure pardner! We've been planning this since those highwaymen said they was keepin' ya here."

"Stop talking and get her out of here!" Golden bellowed from further up the river. It seemed like she was now intimidating some other tugboats from intervening.

"Well, ya heard 'er." Tex said. "Les' go!"

Given had been so distracted by the appearance of so many members of her family that she hadn't even noticed Tex slipping lines through her hawseholes until they went taut and she was yanked from her moorings by Tex steaming out in pursuit of Ace's retreating form.

She just barely managed to get her anchors retracted before Tex really put some power on, and began to pull her across the lake entirely.

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

Later...

The War Zone

Ever Given Escapes Custody Suez Canal Authority claims no responsibility, Egyptian Navy vessel possibly damaged. BY TYLER ROGOWAY April 17, 2021 THE WAR ZONE

📷@mahmou10_ships VIA @SUEZWATCH_EGY

SHARE TYLER ROGOWAY View Tyler Rogoway's Articles @Aviation_Intel Details remain limited at this time, but there was an incident in the Great Bitter Lake. At least one Egyptian Navy vessel has been severely damaged, and MV Ever Given, who had been held in the Great Bitter Lake by the Suez Canal Authority, has now fled the Canal into the Mediterranean Sea.

Again, details are extremely limited, but based on social media reports, marine tracking data, and radio reports, at approximately 11:47 PM Egypt Standard Time (EGY) a disturbance was reported by the Egyptian Navy craft - their identity is still unconfirmed, but images posted to social media seem to indicate that the vessel is a former Soviet Osa-class missile craft. The vessel reported that "A convoy has gone mad" and he was "under attack from multiple vessels".

While a convoy had transited the canal at that time, it is unclear if they were involved in the attack, or if one occurred at all.

We've reached out to Evergreen Lines, The Suez Canal Authority, the Egyptian Navy, and the individual ships believed to be involved, including Ever Given.

We will update this piece as more information comes available.

Contact the author: [email protected]

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#fic #ask response #ever given #the evergreen discord chat is going buck wild with this article #background info #sentient boats #sentient boat headcanon #sentient vehicle headcanon #having sentient boats messes with so many historical events #sentient vehicles

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mrvdocks · 3 years

Text

Selcouth

You shouldn’t have come on this stupid trip. Not even if it had opened you up more to him. If anything, you felt this trip had soured the more time had passed. Alex could tell. But you two had to play it safe, play the parts that Karl thought you two assumed from his perspective. You resented that, having to stick to an image that he had formed of you, one that tried to act like you weren’t so in love with him it made your heart ache.

Or,

You and Alex plan a meet up with Karl for a week trip, only to have your feelings for Karl be put to the test when things don’t pan out how you all planned. (Karl Jacobs/Reader)

After

“Stop it.” He says, voice serious and no longer joyful or even hinting at friendliness. You’ve heard Karl be serious many times but this time sounded different. This time he sounded like he was scolding a child after being annoyed by them repeatedly.

“Stop what?” You ask, pretending to be aloof.

“Stop acting like a child!”

“I’m the one acting like a chil - since when was doing something I want, acting like a child?!”

He makes a hmpf sound. “What is this supposed to be, payback? Is that what you’re playing at?”

��I’m not playing at anything here, Karl. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He scoffs. “Oh yeah? So you just suddenly developed an interest in Dream overnight, is that it?”

“Honestly, why do you care so much? My love life isn’t up for debate here.”

“Oh and mine was?” He retorts.

You knew he would bring it up, you just knew. It was perfect ammo right now. You stutter to find the right words.

“What - what do you want from me Karl? I don’t need to explain myself to you. Have you considered that maybe I just finally got tired of being alone? That maybe I just needed someone?”

Karl tries to not let this dig push him over the line but his frustration and jealousy wouldn’t let him stop seeing green.

“Is this what you do? You like playing with people's feelings? Do you think screwing my friends is going to help you or is this another one of your phases?”

It feels good in the heat of the moment but he knows he’s messed up as soon as he says it.

Your mouth drops open. Incredible. In-fucking-credible.

You laugh bitterly, trying to put up a strong front but your voice betrays you by cracking. “That’s low, Karl. That’s - really fucking low.”

Instantly regretting it, he tries to make amends but can’t put words together properly. His mind reels, heart races, palms suddenly feel sweaty and all he can manage is your name. “(Y/N)......I -”

You can’t bear to hear another false apology spill from his lips. If that’s how he felt, then there was no changing his mind. No matter how badly you wanted to.

“No you’re right. You’re right. You made your choice and so have I. Goodbye Karl.” You conclude and hang up, throwing your phone across the room. You stare at it until your vision becomes blurry with tears.

Where do you go from here?

Before

You didn’t think that when you first started streaming that you’d end up at the point you were now. You just wanted to have fun with your friends, maybe meet some new people, share your interests along with the loads of games you found amusing. Interestingly enough, your personality and content seemed to resonate with a lot of people.

Pretty soon you’d become one of the top streamers on Twitch behind the other big talent that once dominated your dashboard.

You’d made your way into the big leagues with names like GeorgeNotFound, Dream, Quackity, Nihachu, and even Karl Jacobs. Though you’d met the latter two years ago, you’d become quick friends with Quackity, or Alex(is), having bonded over having similar backgrounds and interests.

He was more like a brother to you than anything, much to the chagrin of many in the chat. You believe it had to do with growing up in a family with mostly girl siblings.

Your collabs with Alex garnered lots of views, with people tuning into the streams to watch you two yell at each other chaotically while playing odd games or attempting to bake things.

Of course, while he did your side of content, that meant you had to hold up your end of the bargain. Minecraft wasn’t your strong suit at first, but as time went on and with some help from both Alex and Karl, you became a little more proficient.

Karl was no stranger to you, not anymore. Alex had introduced you to Karl a little after he started streaming. You’d only really known him from a couple of Jimmy’s videos.

He seemed kind, goofy, friendly, and all around a pretty fun guy to be around. Which is why when you started to fall just a little bit for him, you were surprised. You came into this Twitch thing with one rule. Don’t fall for people.

Things could get messy, it was always a given. The fandoms would tear into you or them, people were unpredictable. It was just better to keep everyone at an arm's length when it came to shipping.

You were thankful nothing had come to fruition from your friendship with Alex. If anything, all you saw were people shipping you platonically. Though you two would often tease each other if one had a crush on someone.

Your dynamic with Alex meant that you had countless ridiculous and outrageous moments together, often documenting them when he would visit you in LA from Mexico or you going to Mexico to see family and stopping by to visit him.

It was starting to become a thing you two did a few times a year. This year was no different. Even when the pandemic seemed to sour your plans, you both promised to stay safe and healthy and limit the trips. So far, this was going to be the first trip you two would be taking anywhere.

Your phone buzzed next to you as you scrolled mindlessly through your discord server. You laughed a bit here and there, looking at memes and chatting with people.

Alex’s text ringtone was him rage quitting during a game where you absolutely obliterated his ass. You either cracked up at the sound of it or jumped in sudden fear when it bounced off the walls of your apartment in the middle of the night.

A: Hey wiener, are you packed?? I know you take like three business days to get ready.

You rolled your eyes. He was supposed to be coming to visit you first before you both made the flight out to see Karl in North Carolina.

Y: Me??? I’ve been packed since last week. I thought you were supposed to be on the flight here already 🙄

A: I may or may not…...already be out. 💀

Your eyes widen. You abandon the chat and hit the FaceTime button. He lets it ring for a good five seconds before he accepts it and greets you with a close up of his face.

“What am I looking at?” You ask, feigning disgust.

“My beautiful face, what else?”

“Really? I thought it was a dog’s asshole.” You chuckle.

He guffaws. “Fuck off! First I get stranded here in LA, then I get some shitty chicken nuggets and now you’re calling me butt ugly! Why does life hate me so much?!”

“Menso! You were supposed to call me when you - wait did you say chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah, I still have the rest but I can’t finish because every time I chew I think of the pink slime.”

“Ugh don’t talk about Supersize Me, I’m still having nightmares about it. Who shows that to little kids??”

“Yeah well it’s shit, Burger King’s better.” He admits, munching down on the nuggets. He chews obnoxiously near the phone speaker to annoy you so you tap at the screen in retaliation.

“Hey, I was supposed to record you trying out American McDonald’s! Why are you taking sweet sweet content away from me? Now no one gets to see you lose your McVirginity!”

He sputters through a mouthful of nuggets and does a combination of coughing and laughing.

“Anyways,” he says, finally nugget free. “You coming or not? I don’t think I wanna sleep on the airport floor.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The airport was a forty five minute drive, thirty if you stepped on it and committed several traffic violations.

Maybe that would make good content.

You grabbed your keys and rushed out of your home, fully prepared to go fast and furious. You put your windows down, connected your phone to the aux and blasted Tokyo Drift as you merged into the freeway.

Half an hour later, you’d arrived at a packed airport pick up area and texted Alex to let him know you’d arrived. He replied that he was starting to feel the effect of the chicken nuggets but that he would push through people to get out of the building before he caught anything from anyone.

Once you could make out his figure up ahead in front of the other cars, you got the bright idea to switch your music to something more interesting. You pulled up one of his videos where he was fully invested in a rendition of Hey There Delilah and honked excessively once you got closer to him. He looked around and pulled his beanie down lower to hide his face in embarrassment.

You and the prerecorded Quackity sang in off key unison with the volume up as much as you could before he threw his luggage and bags into your backseat, hopped into the passenger seat and put the volume down.

“Never do that again.”

“Hey, that was your welcome salute. I don’t do that for other people, you’re special and I like it.”

“Could you try liking me a little less? I could do without all the cringe covers.” He laughed to himself as he buckled up.

The ride home consisted of a mix of very poor and impressive impressions of characters that would’ve annoyed nearly anyone else except you. Alex alternated from a gruff impression of Squidward to a raunchy Mickey Mouse that left you doubling over and gripping the steering wheel. You competed with him, doing your worst impression of Cookie Monster and Goofy.

Your impression competition was interrupted by a phone call, Karl’s photo flashing flipped a panic switch in you as you scrambled to grab your phone. Alex takes your phone and extends his arm far from your reach.

“Ah, ah, ah! No texting and driving! You want to kill us or something?!”

“I need to answer! What if he thinks I’m ignoring him?”

“I got it, I got it.” He assures, sliding the bar to unlock the phone and meet Karl face to face.

Karl makes a surprised sound, greeting Alex almost immediately.

“Hey bub!” You chime in, keeping your eyes on the road but getting a glimpse of Karl in his frog outfit.

“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know you were driving.”

“No it’s okay! I’m just coming back from picking up this idiot.”

“Who you calling idiot, dumbass?” Alex suddenly burst into his Mickey Mouse voice from earlier, ending it with the iconic Mickey laugh.

Karl seemed to eat it up, breaking into laughter. It was infectious enough to make you chuckle.

“You guys excited for the trip? It’s looking really pretty here this time of year. I can’t wait to show you around.”

“You mean show us your sweater collection?” Alex jabs.

You nudge him roughly to the side as a warning, glaring at him when he glances at you.

You’d hoped that the change of scenery would do you some good. LA was an endless heap of heat that you never could seem to escape. Not even with air conditioning. It was October already, which normally would mean Fall, orange leaves, pumpkins everywhere, a complete shift in temperature, right? Nope.

It was the devil’s asshole all year round, something Alex could attest to.

“Don’t mind him, I think he was dropped as a kid.”

“How dare you! There is nothing wrong with me, I’m perfect.”

“Ha! Sure. As if you don’t have a lot of things wrong with you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

You tap at the time on your screen, “We don’t have enough time to get into it.”

You turn your attention back to Karl, very attentive to your bickering, small chuckles here and there. It wasn’t until he made eye contact with you that you felt your hands falter on the wheel. You were lucky enough that it didn’t make you stray away from the road.

“Um - you know what? We’ll call you later, we’re almost home anyways.”

“Okay! Be safe! Goodnight. ” Karl bids you both goodbye and poses his phone in front of him in order to hug it from afar, as if to hug both you and Alex.

You groan to yourself, pretending to bang your head against the steering wheel as soon as you pull up to your complex. Alex laughs at your misery.

“Oh man, you really are down BAD.”

“Shut up! I regret telling you things sometimes.”

“No one said you had to! I guess I just have one of those faces.” He Chad swipes at his chin and squints at you.

“Yeah, punch able.” You remark with a quirk of your brow, slipping out of the car and heading to your front door.

Alex follows, grabbing his things in a hurry before you can get the chance to lock him out and leave him to sleep with the coyotes.

“Don’t leave me out here! I’m too delicious to die!” He cries.

You’re awoken by the feeling of warm sunlight on the left side of your face. You hesitate to move, feeling tired already even though you’re sure you slept longer than you should’ve.

You prop yourself up by your elbows, shielding your face from the sun with your hand. You get out of bed groggily, staring at the floor for a second before making your way to the living room and finding Alex sleeping in a weird position.

Amused, you rush back into your room and grab your phone to document this moment and post it on Twitter. However when you return, he’s gone. You lean over the couch to check if he’s hiding behind it but he’s nowhere to be found.

You’re about to crouch to check for his feet or any sign of him when you feel fingers dig in your sides. You yelp in fear and surprise, smacking your attacker until he starts to yell in a shrill voice.

Alex pushes you over the couch making you fall on your ass.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” You scream.

“That’s what you get for trying to take pictures of me!”

You try to stand, rubbing at your sore ass. “Ugh, what are you, a cryptid or something? The people have a right to see!”

“No one gets to see me in the morning! No one! I need my beauty sleep more than you.”

He extends a helping hand for you to take in a moment of truce but you take advantage and pull him down with you to land on his back. He groans when he hits the ground and curses at you in Spanish.

“Play time’s over, we gotta get ready. The plane leaves in…..one hour????!”

Your phone says it’s only nine in the morning but you hazily remember the tickets reading ten thirty.

“No way! I have to take a shower, I have to order food….” He begins, counting on his fingers the various things he suddenly had to do but you stop him by running into your room and getting your bags.

“No time! Brush your teeth, get dressed, I’ll buy us something at the airport.”

“NOOOO! Airport food is disgusting! Can’t we stop somewhere?”

“Like I said, no time! We gotta be out of here in thirty minutes.”

He grumbles under his breath.

“I heard that!” You yell behind you, grabbing a towel and turning on your shower.

After Alex rummaged through your kitchen, stuffed himself with some snacks and an alarming amount of frozen food, you urged him to shower in the little time span you had left and ordered a ride to take you to the airport.

You had to basically pull him away from putting on his finishing touches with his beanie, with him complaining that his hair wouldn’t settle under it the way he wanted. You rolled your eyes and shoved him and your stuff into the Uber and kissed California goodbye.

You two started planning what you’d do in NC as soon as you landed, besides getting food. You could practically hear Alex’s stomach grumbling the whole drive to the airport and even after the Uber gave him some snacks.

There was a sense of urgency that made your stomach twist in knots until you’d arrived at the drop off section. You stuck your tickets in your pocket as you hurried Alex, dragging him and urging him to run faster than he’d ever imagined to catch the plane.

With only minutes to spare, you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you panted and tried to regain it once you were at the gate. Alex makes a joke about you being out of breath to the pretty attendant that you make a note of later, just in case he tried to flirt with her.

Alex followed the attendant like a puppy while you popped your phone out from your pocket and snapped a photo of the plane. You debated sending it to Karl, not sure if wanting your boarding to be a surprise or not. You relented to posting it on Twitter and sending it to Karl.

Big things coming ;) You tweeted, exiting out of the app as quickly as you’d posted it, knowing you’d be flooded with notifications.

You switched over to message, sending it to Karl but unsure if he would be awake right now. Maybe it would make his day better.

On our way! See you soon! :))

You ran to catch up with Alex, finding him still talking to the attendant. In the most bitchy voice you could muster, you hugged him from the side and nestled your head into his shoulder.

“I’m so happy we’re going on vacation babe, thank you!”

His face fell, the attendant suddenly losing interest and suggesting the two of you find your seats. You intertwine your hands with his and hold it up, making a joke about how you two were inseparable.

He suppresses the urge to fight you and instead screams internally, whisper yelling to you as you both sit. “You couldn’t let me be a Chad once? Just once!”

“That’s what you get for slamming me on my ass earlier.”

#karl jacobs x reader #mcyt #yes I am aware that alex and karl might be a little OC #but I really wanted to get this chapter out of the way #myct fanfiction #myct imagines #dream smp

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codynaomiswire · 3 years

Text

TTS/RTA Egyptian Mythology AU

Also known as the Uraeus AU!

Several months ago, I made a post about a developing idea for an Egyptian mythology AU for TTS/RTA. The idea was prompted in large part by the snake-hair Varian (“Snakian”) scene from the series’ finale, and the concept of the uraeus in Egyptian mythology. Since first posting about this AU, Xiel and I have really been developing the idea further on the Discord, and here’s what we’ve come up with so far. Hope you all enjoy it!

Note: As a fan AU, this is of course subject to change and variations, so things may change or develop differently as time goes on and more new ideas spring up. This is just what we have in mind so far! :D

Champions and Friends:

Varian - The kingdom’s seer and champion of Wadjet (aka “the Uraeus”). In this AU, Varian was born to Quirin and Ulla with his “twin brother” Ka - a living uraeus bestowed upon him by the snake goddess Wadjet. (More on Ka and Wadjet down below.) Having grown up with Ka, Varian is not (usually) bothered with having a snake attached to his head, and sees Ka as being like a brother to him. Varian also grew up being told by Quirin and Ulla to keep Ka a secret, as the family was worried Varian and Ka would be taken away from them if anyone knew about them. So for many years, whenever Varian would go outside, he would wear a head covering so Ka would remain hidden from the world. Once he did try to show Ka to some of the kids in his village, but they all ran away screaming, and he got in trouble with the parents for “pulling a mean prank with a snake.” So he and Ka never tried that again. However, things start to get trickier as Varian enters his early teens, and he starts to get visions about events to come, and has a couple episodes of sleepwalking in the middle of the night. Despite Quirin’s best efforts to keep the two safe, things finally come to a head when some kidnappers (led by Andrew) are hired by Set’s cult to capture Varian and Ka, and bring them back to be dealt with. Out of self-defense, Ka ends up landing a venomous bite on Andrew, who nearly dies from the poison. However, Varian has also taken an interest in alchemy by this time in his life, and learned how to create an antivenom for Ka’s bites. (While Varian himself is immune to snake venom due to his connection with Ka and Wadjet, he learned how to make it in case there was ever an accident involving someone else.) Varian manages to make the antivenom in time and save Andrew’s life, but this incident ended up taking place out in the open, and thus Varian and Ka have their cover blown. Quirin tries to prevent Varian and Ka from being taken away, but the next day the pharaoh’s soldiers come and take Varian and Ka to live in the palace, as the priests of Wadjet are certain that the time has come for the seer to step into his duties for the kingdom. Varian is at first very unhappy with being forced to live at the palace, but is befriended my Rapunzel quite quickly. And when his visions start coming on with even greater intensity, Varian must do what he can to help protect the people from Set’s plans and Apep’s impending return.

Ka - A living uraeus and Wadjet’s other champion. (Note: In this AU, “the Uraeus” refers to Ka, Varian, or the two taken together. The term applies to all three.) His character is inspired by the snake-hair character in the RTA series finale (though Ka has the added feature of a cobra hood), and his name is inspired in large part by the “ka” aspect of the soul in ancient Egyptian philosophy (meaning “double” and known as the protective aspect of the soul). His name is also reminiscent of Kaa from The Jungle Book, though it’s spelled differently. Given to Varian by Wadjet upon his birth, Ka has been with Varian since the beginning. While he and Varian are the same age, Ka grows up faster than Varian mentally, so he tends to be the more mature of the two. However, he isn’t adverse to causing some mischief from time to time. Growing up, Ka was pretty readily accepted by Ulla, but Quirin...was more leery of him. Especially given Quirin’s own past (more on that below), he first saw Ka as an interloper on what was supposed to be a peaceful family life. Despite this attitude, Quirin and Ka did have their moments of reliability from time to time, and Ka grew up seeing Quirin and Ulla as his parents (calling them “Father” and “Mother” respectively). For years Ka had to hide his existence from the outside world, and thus could get very lonely. It seemed that he would have to resign himself to a life of obscurity...until Varian started getting weird visions of things to come, and Ka started getting his own premonitions of things to come in the short term (i.e. waking visions of things close at hand). Ka also learned through his premonitions how to hypnotize people, which he would use mostly for therapeutic purposes, or to compel people to tell the truth if need be (though this function especially can take a lot out of him, so he’s not OP with this ability). Things take the most drastic turn for Ka when he lashes out at would-be kidnappers (as told in Varian’s description above), he becomes known to the wider world, and is then thrust into the champions’ efforts to save the kingdom from ruin. Ka also does that snake thing of prolonging his ‘s’ sounds when he talks, and when he first has the experience of talking to new people he takes to referring to himself in the third person. Just to be fancy I guess. xP

Quirin - Varian and Ka’s father, member of the Brotherhood, and champion of Khonsu. Quirin spent a good portion of his adult life as a member of the Brotherhood in Karnak who - in this AU - are a warrior guild with allegiance to Khonsu, Egyptian god of the moon and time. While serving under Khonsu, Quirin acquired the ability to manipulate time in certain small ways - i.e. stopping time within a certain radius (usually a few yards), or around a certain person or object. This ability is very risky though, as if it’s used too often or too intensely it can have the side affect of “taking time” from the one wielding it (hence why Quirin appears a bit older than Adira and Hector, who are only a few years younger than he). After a good many years of service in the Brotherhood, Quirin decides to leave his service and settles down with his wife Ulla to start a family. However, upon the birth of their son Varian, Quirin is shocked to find that Varian was born with a living uraeus attached to his head (whom Ulla names Ka). After his dealings with the gods while serving Khonsu, Quirin is afraid of what Ka’s presence means for Varian, and does all he can to keep Ka a secret from the wider world. At first, Quirin is very leery of Ka, which does not go unnoticed by the rest of the family. Quirin is never cruel to Ka, never ignores him, nor dotes upon Varian while leaving Ka out of it, but it is clear that he sees Ka differently from Varian. Things become especially hard when Ulla dies when Varian and Ka are about ten years old, and Quirin has to raise the two on his own. Eventually, Quirin and Ka begin to grow closer, and Quirin does all he can to make sure he and Varian don’t get taken away from him. But after their cover is blown, Quirin is left worrying about his sons after they are taken away to live in the palace. As Quirin prays to Khonsu one night asking what can be done, he is informed that his duty as the Uraeus’s protector is not over, and that he will also be called upon to join in the effort to stop Set and Apep in the days to come.

Rapunzel - The princess of Egypt and the champion of Ra. Rapunzel was kidnapped by Mother Gothel as a baby, and was raised learning how to use her sun powers. However, when the champion of Horus comes to save her, Mother Gothel is defeated by her own evil designs, and Rapunzel loses connection with her healing powers in the ensuing struggle. After returning home, life is happy for the princess, and she quickly befriends many in her kingdom. However, when news comes to the palace that Wadjet’s seer has appeared in the land, Rapunzel begins her real journey to find her destiny, and must use her powers to save the land from its deadliest threat yet.

Eugene - The prince of one of Egypt’s major cities, and the champion of Horus. (Naturally, this was inspired by Eugene’s birth name being Horace in the canon series. xD) The son of King Edmund of Karnak, Eugene actually grew up in his family’s palace in this AU. When he was born, Eugene bore a birthmark on his shoulder blades that resembled wings. After consulting with the local priests, Edmund learned that the birthmark was a sign of the blessing of Horus, and that Eugene would come to wield great powers. Afraid for his son, however, Edmund has a hieroglyph painted onto Eugene’s back every few weeks or so to keep the power of the mark at bay. Eventually though, when Eugene is in his early teens, Horus’s blessing breaks through the barrier induced by the hieroglyph, and after a painful first transformation, Eugene has found that he has sprouted giant hawk’s wings from his back. After the initial shock, Eugene learns how to use and control this ability, and after some of Horus’s guidance, he manages to find the lost princess of Egypt and rescues her (while also falling in love of course ^^). After rescuing Rapunzel, Eugene decides to remain living in the capitol at the palace, though he keeps in contact with his family and home city.

Cassandra - Mother Gothel’s daughter, Rapunzel’s best friend and champion of Sekhmet. After being born to Mother Gothel, Cassandra grew up as a child servant in the cult of Set, and was left entirely on her own after Mother Gothel left her to horde Rapunzel’s sun powers for herself. Being miserable in her life situation, Cassandra eventually called out to the other gods asking for their help (she was probably about six or seven years old at this stage). Sekhmet heard her, and gave Cassandra some of her powers so she could don a lioness form and bust her way out. (Although, this blessing also left its mark on Cassandra, as she now permanently sports cat-like eyes, even when not in her lioness form.) After fleeing the cult of Set, Cassandra wanders around for a while until she is found by the Captain of the Guard, who came after he heard reports of a dangerous feral child wandering the desert near the outer villages. The Captain takes pity on Cassandra when he finds her, and takes her in as his own and teaches her how to fight and how to have discipline so she can control her powers. In addition to transforming into a human-lioness hybrid, Cass can also talk to felines and request favors from them, like spying on enemies and scouting and stuff. After gaining the trust of everyone in the capitol, Cass also came to be known by the revered title, The Lioness.

Lance - Eugene’s best friend and fellow resident of Karnak. While Lance is not a chosen champion, he is still a gifted member of the group, and is invaluable as a supportive friend and skilled wordsmith. When Kiera and Catalina travel to the capitol after Catalina becomes a champion, it’s Lance who is the first in the group to befriend the girls. Lance also has a background in being a treasure hunter, which comes in handy when the group needs to locate legendary artifacts, ancient temples and other things that will be vital to the success of their mission.

Catalina - Sister to Kiera/Angry, and Champion of Anubis. (A quick thank you to the Anon who prompted us to consider Catalina as a fellow champion!) Like Cassandra, Catalina’s blessing from Anubis allows her to don a feral form (this time in the form of a werewolf/werejackal) to help fight against the agents of Set and Apep. However, Catalina was chosen to wield Anubis’s blessing specifically because her heart was the only one judged by the scales of Anubis to be able to balance the powers contained within his blessing. As the son of Set and a god of death, Anubis’s blessing is extremely powerful and volatile, and only a certain kind of heart can learn how to balance it and avoid being destroyed by it. While Catalina still struggles with her power (especially during the first few transformations), she is able to gain great control over it with time. While she is considered an outcast from most of the rest of society, Kiera stays by Catalina’s side, and together they travel to the capitol to join the other champions in their mission to stop Set and Apep from destroying the world.

Kiera/Angry - Catalina’s sister. While Kiera/Angry is not a chosen champion, she is still skilled and is a beloved member of the group. After her sister Catalina receives the blessing of Anubis, Kiera stays by her side and travels with her to the capitol to join the rest of the group to help save Egypt and the world from impending doom.

Adira and Hector - Members of the Brotherhood, Quirin’s honorary siblings, and Varian’s “aunt” and “uncle”. While Hector and Adira were also servants of Khonsu like Quirin, neither were given special powers by the deity. Nevertheless, their work as members of the Brotherhood proves invaluable for the group, and they are more than ready to help with their skills and knowledge for whatever may come their way. When Hector isn’t serving at Khonsu’s temple in Karnak, he is the more adventurous of the two, and spends a good chunk of his time being a sellsword for the caravans traveling across the desert. He also has an affinity for animals, and thus relates to Ka very well upon meeting him for the first time.

King Edmund - Ruler of Karnak, head of the Brotherhood, and father of Eugene. A lot of his role was already laid out in Eugene’s description.

Frederic and Arianna - The pharaoh and queen of Egypt in this AU.

Egyptian Deities:

Wadjet - A snake goddess of protection and healing, Wadjet is the deity who chooses Varian and Ka for the mission to stop Set and Apep. In this AU, Wadjet is also a goddess of farsight, and thus allows Varian and Ka to be her seers on earth. While a powerful and graceful deity, Wadjet also has a “soccer mom” kind of personality to her as well. In this AU she has the form of a naga - i.e. human upper body with her lower body being a long snake’s tail.

Khonsu - The god of the moon and time, and the deity served by the Brotherhood. Khonsu is a rather mysterious figure, and while he can see through time and its various possible outcomes, he does not have direct control over how events play out. However, he does impart the ability to manipulate time in small ways to Quirin, though the ability does comes with a price if used to excessively. Khonsu’s personality is quiet, stern, yet also with a touch of levity here and there.

Ra - The god of the sun, and giver of Rapunzel’s powers. Unlike the other deities in this AU, Ra seems strangely absent, despite his sun constantly moving through the sky overhead, and Rapunzel serving as his emissary. He only speaks to her very sparingly throughout their adventure, but when he does it’s always at key moments.

Horus - The son of Ra, protector of the sun, and arch nemesis of Set. Horus chose Eugene to be his champion on earth, and gifted the prince with his wings and ability to fly. (Haven’t really ironed out more of his personality yet to be honest. More may come later!)

Sekhmet - A lion goddess and protector of Egypt. Like Ra, Sekhmet doesn’t make too many appearances in this AU, but she does give Cassandra her incredible lioness warrior powers.

Anubis - A god of death, judgment and the son of Set. Despite commanding a lot of respect, Anubis is a deity that many Egyptians fear and don’t like to talk about. He has a very serious personality (given his job that only seems natural), and really doesn’t like the idea of Set and Apep wreaking havoc on the world and making his job as psychopomp all the harder. (Basically, one of his motivations for wanting to stop the end of the world is so he doesn’t have a ton of more work to do with all the death and destruction that would result. ...Yeah, not the most altruistic reasoning, but guess the guy’s just being practical. xP) When choosing his champion, he weighed the hearts of all in the kingdom to determine which one could balance his powers best, and the scales determined that it would be Catalina, hence him bestowing her with his blessing.

Villains:

Mother Gothel - A former priestess of Set. After learning about the princess’s sun powers, Mother Gothel kidnaps the princess in order to use her powers so that she may remain young forever and never die. However, her evil plans collapse in on her when the champion of Horus comes to save Rapunzel, and Mother Gothel is destroyed in the process. (This is pretty much the extent of Mother Gothel’s role in the story.)

Zhan Tiri - High priestess of Set, and one of the main antagonists of this AU. For many years, Zhan Tiri ran the cult of Set from the underground, and kept her identity as high priestess hidden while posing as an advisor to the pharaoh’s court. However, after her attempt to eliminate the Uraeus fails, Varian and Ka see through her disguise, and she is forced to flee from the capitol and run the cult of Set from the underground in the temples and caves in the Egyptian wilderness. She’s pretty much a generic villain like in the series, where she just kinda craves revenge and destruction because...evil.

Set - The “big bad” of the AU alongside Apep. Where Apep is the brawn of the evil duo, Set is the brains. Set plans on using his cult to help release him and Apep onto the mortal plane, basically wreak as much havoc as possible, and take over the world.

Apep - The “big bad” of the AU alongside Set. Where Set is the brains of the evil duo, Apep is the brawn. As the giant serpent of chaos, Apep’s one goal in life is to destroy the world and all living things. He’s kind of the antithesis of Ka in this AU. His voice sounds a lot like Smaug from The Hobbit movies, and while big, strong and scary, he isn’t super clever.

Aaaaaand I think I’ll leave this post at that for now. Whew! I’ll probably make another post a bit later concerning a general outline of events, and maybe also some other posts with some dialogue snippets that Xiel and I have come up with if there’s enough interest.

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ibijau · 3 years

Note

firstly, i would like to apologize for the way that i saw the words “any ship” and instantly took them as a challenge to create new, bad ships. secondly, i am suggesting number 7 with lan xichen/wen xu. no, you did not misread that; mr capybara can get along with everyone so well that i’m assigning him an entirely new evil boyfriend. bonus points if you actually find a way to make this work in a canon or pre-canon universe, bc i sure can’t see one!

Holding their hair back as they vomit into the toilet

See, this is the one that got me in trouble. Because actually, that ship isn’t even that bad to me. I’m pretty sure it has been discussed several times on the xisang discord. And so I stupidly commented on tumblr that well, y’all think you’re giving bad ships but it’s not that awful. And boy oh boy, do I regret that now (not really, it’s gonna be fun)

warning for mentions of violence against a corpse, and for vomiting :)

The nausea hits Wen Xu when they pass through Qinghe, and doesn’t leave from that point on. It goes ever stronger as the cart gets closer to the Unclean Realm. If not for the man sitting next to him and throwing him weak smiles, Wen Xu would have jumped on his sword and ran away. This is a terrible, terrible plan, and he should have known better than to let Lan Xichen get plotting, and yet…

And yet, what choice did he have? Wen Xu doesn’t have his father and brother’s blind faith in Qishan Wen’s power. He understands the power of numbers, of good position, of sheer rage too. The instant Lotus Piers burned, he sent a letter to Lan Xichen, begging for his help. A desperate move after what happened with Qingheng-Jun, but Lan Xichen knows it was an accident. Back then too, they had a plan.

Hopefully, this one will work better.

As they fall into the shadows of the Unclean Realm’s high walls, Wen Xu starts fidgeting with the bandages on his face. If too much of his features show, if he is recognised… Nie Mingjue is on the frontlines, his little brother hidden far away in the Cloud Recesses, but Wen Xu’s face is one even lesser Nie cultivator will have seen at conferences. If he is seen, if he is spotted… this isn’t just about him, Lan Xichen too would…

“Calm down,” Lan Xichen whispers, taking his hands and forcing them away from his face. “I am well liked and well trusted here. And it’s only for a day or two, to avoid arousing suspicions. I always stop here when I’m in the area.”

Wen Xu, growing more nervous with every passing moment, grasps one of Lan Xichen’s wrists. Lan Xichen smiles as best as he can, and struggles against that grasp until they’re holding hands instead, their fingers tightly linked together. It feels more comforting that it should. Wen Xu has no faith in his father and brother, but he would follow Lan Xichen to the end of the world if the other man asked him too.

After a last squeeze, Lan Xichen lets go of Wen Xu’s hand and turns his gaze back to the doors of the Unclean Realm. He frowns and narrows his eyes, as if trying to see something, then turns deathly pale.

“Oh no,” he gasps.

That’s all the warning Wen Xu gets before he hears Nie Mingjue’s booming voice coming their way.

“Xichen! What are you doing here?”

Wen Xu shrinks on himself. He wants to take Lan Xichen’s hand again, to have the other man smile at him, look at him. He resists the impulse, fearful of attracting attention on himself, and watches instead as Lan Xichen smiles peacefully at the man who presents such danger to both of them.

“Mingjue-xiong, this is a surprise,” Lan Xichen says, sounding quite delighted to meet his friend. “I thought you’d be on the front.”

“I’ve just returned to do some decorating,” Nie Mingjue announces, leaning on the side of the cart. Wen Xu doesn’t look, but feels his gaze on him. “Who’s that with you, Xichen?”

“The heir of a small sect attached to Gusu Lan by marriage,” Lan Xichen flawlessly lies. “He was captured and wounded, but I freed him and I’m taking him to safety.”

The intensity of Nie Mingjue’s eyes on Wen Xu grows. They’re going to die, Wen Xu is certain of it. All these efforts, and they’re going to die, both of them.

They’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to…

“Well, I’ve got good news for him then!” Nie Mingjue announces smugly. “The war is going well. Help the man sit up, Xichen. I’ve got something to show that will please both of you.”

“Mingjue-xiong, it’s been a long day, I’d rather…”

“It’s on the way in,” Nie Mingjue explains. “Just sit him up so he doesn’t miss it.”

Lan Xichen’s face remains calm, but his hands are shaking as he helps Wen Xu sit up. In turn, Wen Xu doesn’t have to pretend too much when he leans against Lan Xichen’s side. His nausea is still there, stronger than ever. He must stink of fear so badly it’s a surprise that Nie Mingjue can’t smell it, when everyone knows the Nie are more beasts than humans.

As the cart starts moving, Wen Xu wonders what, exactly, he’s supposed to be seeing on his way in. There’s just not much around, and the bandages on his face do limit his field of vision.

Lan Xichen spots it before him.

Lan Xichen whose body turns to stone, and his grip on Wen Xu to iron.

There, right in the middle of the main yard of the Unclean Realm, there’s a high pike with a head on it. A head that Wen Xu knows too well, because it’s one he sees in every mirror, every puddle of water.

Bile hits the back of his throat, and he has to clench his teeth to avoid puking in public.

“We got him trying to retreat during our last battle,” Nie Mingjue explains proudly, mistaking their horrified silence for admiration perhaps. “He begged for his life like a dog and tried to pretend he wasn’t who we thought. Pathetic.”

In spite of the danger, Wen Xu blindly grasps Lan Xichen’s hand, desperately needing to ground himself.

That wasn’t the plan.

The plan, Wen Xu told his cousin a week ago, was for said cousin to disguise as him, mess up a battle, fake his suicide after that dishonour so nobody would look for Wen Xu, and then run back to his family and take them very far away from this war. Wen Xu gave the man gold, letters to guarantee his passage to safety, and placed his wife and children with Wen Qing’s people since nobody would dare to cross her.

Wen Xu’s cousin had just had his first son less than a year ago. Now little Wen Yuan and his sisters are orphans, and their mother will never know what became of her husband.

“Isn’t it a bit morbid?” Lan Xichen asks in a trembling voice.

“He killed your father,” Nie Mingjue reminds him.

And it’s true, of course, but it was an accident. Lan Xichen agreed that it was an accident. They’d had a plan. How were they supposed to guess that Qingheng-Jun, who hadn’t been seen in over a decade, would finally remember he was sect leader? Wen Xu hadn’t meant to kill him, and Lan Xichen had forgiven him, saying his father had likely just seen a chance to end his life without causing more dishonour to their family.

“It was Huaisang’s idea,” Nie Mingjue continues. “Well, he asked me to do that with Wen Ruohan’s head and to keep it there until he returns, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing the full set.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen whispers. “Let’s hope the war is over quickly then. The smell is going to get terrible if that stays here all summer.”

“I’ve put a spell on it to…”

“Mingjue-xiong, I’ve had a really long day,” Lan Xichen interrupts, struggling to maintain his usual polite warmth. “I know we have talked in a while, but I really would like to rest a moment. May we be given a room for the night? And something to eat as well. I am very sorry, but my plan was to leave early tomorrow morning so I can go back to the frontlines quickly once I have delivered this man to safety.”

Nie Mingjue seems surprised by that demand. He grumbles, and offers to have his healers look at Wen Xu, to have his men deliver him back to his sect. Lan Xichen politely refuses all of that, claiming some vague oath to do this in person, and Nie Mingjue gives up.

Wen Ruohan needs armies to be respected and obeyed, while Lan Xichen needs only to smile.

Terrified beyond words, Wen Xu leans heavily against Lan Xichen as they are walked to their room for the night. He doesn’t need to pretend weakness. Every time he looks around and sees a Nie crest, every time he hears Nie Mingjue’s voice, his legs buckle under him.

As soon as the door closes behind them, as soon as he’s alone with Lan Xichen and safely out of view, Wen Xu falls to his knees.

“I’m going to be sick,” he gasps.

Lan Xichen barely has time to put a basin in front of him before Wen Xu starts heaving, and before long his last meal makes a return.

It lasts too long. Even when there’s nothing left to puke, Wen Xu’s body is rocked by dry hiccups that make it near impossible to breathe. He can’t stop thinking of that head on a pike, a head that should have been his.

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen whispers, holding his hair out of the way with one hand, rubbing comforting circles on his back with the others. “I’m so sorry. I never thought he would be there and… well. You know Mingjue.”

Wen Xu nods, a nearly hysterical giggle escaping him before he finds that though he’s empty of food, he can still vomit bile.

He knows Mingjue indeed, the man who has sworn he would avenge his father, who has looked at Wen Xu as if he wants to cut him in pieces since the day he became sect leader. Him and that sneaky brother of his have always scared Wen Xu, something for which his brother and father have mocked him sometimes.

Wen Ruohan probably isn’t laughing anymore. Or if he is, if he thinks he’s just rid of the weaker of his two sons at last, that only proud and devoted Wen Chao remains… then he’s a bigger fool than Wen Xu ever thought him to be, and he won’t be missed by his eldest son.

Between Wen Ruohan and Lan Xichen, the choice was always an easy one.

#lan xichen #wen xu #xuchen #chenxu #nie mingjue #mdzs #wtf is the ship name for this though???#jau writes #Anonymous #bad ship prompts

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goldensunflowers98 · 3 years

Text

Coffee House Dreams

Luke Hemmings Imagine

Please let me know what you think❤️

Aurora sighed as she blew a golden blonde curl from her line of vision once again, her fingers lightly pressing against the piano keys while trying to find the right sound. The small coffee shoppe nestled in one of the side streets of London, where her sister worked tirelessly, bustled with life, the strong scent of espresso overwhelming her senses with every inhale.

She was here almost everyday since she couldn't afford a piano this nice at home, knew most of the customers by name, and she always enjoyed a classic, sweet, vanilla cappuccino after a long day at Uni.

Aurora was a simple girl who loved the sight of rain droplets on rose petals, the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore at night, and the scent of espresso as she played the piano. She loved the color red, especially her crimson colored scrunchie that currently tied her mess of golden curls up, and she found unkind people to be the scum of the earth.

She also found the mysterious blonde haired, blue eyed boy that hid his face being a pair of sunglasses and a steaming caramel latte to be the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. He had started coming in just in the past week, but Aurora found his Australian accent positively enchanting and the dimples that appeared when he smiled made her slam her fingers down on the keys of the piano the first time she saw them, causing a loud crash of discord to sound through the small shoppe and for her to duck her blushing face when he whipped around confused.

He sat perched at the window seat across the way and Aurora noticed how he had a blueberry muffin as well today, his fingers picking at the treat as he watched the raindrops rolls down the clear glass beside him.

He looked sad today, Aurora noticed, the corner of his lips turned downwards and he anxiously fidgeted every few minutes, scratching his temple with his sweater paw.

Now, noticing she was staring like a crazy person, Aurora clears her throat, turning her attention back to the keys and the song she was trying to figure out.

Well the sky is finally open, the rain and wind stopped blowin'

But you're stuck out in the same old storm again

The notes just don't sound as perfect as she wanted and she tries again in another key.

You hold tight to your umbrella, well, darlin' I'm just tryin' to tell ya

That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

She groans to herself, placing her head down on the polished wood, frustrated that she couldn't even get the cords right to her own song.

"That's a beautiful song. Have you tried it starting out in 'G' though?"

She gasps in shock, jumping backwards, her sheet music flying everywhere, and she nearly falls off the piano stool as she hears the accented voice of the mysterious boy who loved caramel lattes right beside her.

He looks mortified at her reaction, his bright blue eyes that were no longer covered by sunglasses were wide and his long arms were out like he was about to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Whoa! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," he says but it's all muffled as Aurora stares up at him in shock and wonder.

This mysterious boy wasn't so mysterious after all. He was Luke freaking Hemmings from her old favorite band, 5 Seconds of Summer. She had been staring at Luke Hemmings like a certified freak for over a week now and didn't notice. She really needed to get more sleep.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. Just startled me is all. First, you're way over there and now, you're all the way over here. You must have some long legs on you," she mumbles frantically like a crazy person, picking up her sheet music and as she finishes her sentence, her eyes trail from his torso, down his long legs, and to his feet that were awkwardly doing this thing where they turned into one another. "I rest my case."

He laughs lightly at that and her eyebrows raise when he rests his latte cup on top of the piano as if he was staying awhile.

"Sorry, I tend to creep up on people without them noticing. I'm Luke, by the way," he reaches out his hand for her to shake and Aurora smiles at the sight of his red gel fingernails, her favorite color.

"Aurora... I love the red," she says, earning a brilliant beam from him with a hint of a blush. He mumbles a 'thank you' quietly, tucking a wild blonde curl behind his ear sheepishly.

"You come in here a lot. Do you live close by or something?" He asks, taking a sip of his hot drink as she assorts her music once more.

"Are you stalking me, Luke?" She smirks as he nearly chokes on his drink and starts to fumble over his words.

"N-No! No, I just hear you play every time I come in. It's quite nice and it's a small... it's a small shoppe. Oh, god... Please don't think I'm a psycho stalker," he winces behind his cup, knowing his previous words made him sound like a creep.

"I'm just kidding," she giggles with a mischievous grin, finding his nervousness to be quite funny. "It's a small and quiet coffee house. Not many new people come in, so you're a sight for sore eyes, for sure."

She furrows her brows as he doesn't really reply to her statement, looking back at the door as it chimes, lips bitten harshly by his front teeth. He looks disappointed as Andrew, the local dog walker who liked a double fudge hot cocoa after a long morning of trudging along behind a sweet saint bernard, two huskies that were brothers, Mrs. Henderson's prize winning poodle, and a teacup yorkie that had a bite of a lion, walked in.

"Waiting for someone?" She asked quietly, trying to be gentle as his face is crestfallen after checking the time.

"Uh.." he runs his hand through his curls, tugging at the roots anxiously for a moment before turning back to her. "My girlfriend. She... We've been fighting a lot recently, but she was supposed to meet me an hour ago to talk some stuff out."

Sierra Deaton, Luke's girlfriend, was a sweet girl from what Aurora observed from the tweets and Instagram posts, but every relationship had its downfalls.

"Maybe she's stuck in traffic. You know how London is," she once again tries to be gentle with his feelings and her heart aches just a bit when she sees his deep frown.

"Yeah... Maybe it's just London." He hides his upset eyes by a fake smile and Aurora finds it upsetting at just how good he seemed at that specific action; hiding his true feelings.

"Fuck," he suddenly curses, looking frantic for a second as he starts collecting all of his belongings.

"What's wrong?" Aurora asks, his nervousness making her anxiety spike.

"I'm late for rehearsal. Shit! I completely forgot," he shoves his phone in his pocket and shoots back the rest of his latte quickly. "It was so nice finally meeting you! Um, I'll probably see you tomorrow! Try starting the song out in G!" As quick as he stumbles out his words, he is out of the shoppe and Aurora watches in hazy confusion as he speed walks past the window, tugging at his hair nervously again.

"That boy is going to go bald one day if he keeps that up," she mumbles, turning back to her piano and feeling a bit confused and star struck by her encounter.

"What boy?" She hears her sister ask as she walks around the corner, taking Luke's empty mug from off the piano and placing it in the dirty dish tray she had rested on her hip.

"Just a boy, Cece," she smiles up at her older sister who looked disheveled after a long shift. "Damn, you look rough."

Celestia rolls her eyes playfully at her little sister, reaching up to maintain her jet black hair that was nothing like her sister's. You would have never have known that they were related if you had set your eyes on the curly blonde haired, green eyed, shy girl and the older, upbeat girl with obsidian hair and bright, blue eyes. "Want another cappuccino?" She asks, earning a grin and a nod from Aurora as she walks away.

Looking down at the ivory keys, Aurora hums to herself as she hovers her fingers over the 'G' key. Beginning to play the song, she can't help but grin and scribble down notes inside her tattered song journal. Maybe Luke knew what he was talking about after all.

________

The sun is dimly shining the next morning and Aurora inhales the smell of wet asphalt after the night full of rain, a small smile on her face. Turning the corner towards the coffee shoppe, she nearly stops in her tracks as she sees a familiar, teary-eyed boy through the window, sitting in his normal seat. He was alone, no coffee or muffin in sight and she watches as he buries his distraught face in his hands.

Trudging along slowly while taking looks back at the upset Luke through the window, Aurora frowns as she enters the shoppe and walks over to the counter. "Hey, Cece. I need a vanilla cappuccino, a caramel latte, and two blueberry muffins, please. Put extra caramel drizzle and whipped cream on the latte too."

She ignores her sister's confused smirk as she places the money on the counter, continuing to look over at Luke, who's shoulders were now lightly shaking with sobs. Her order is quick to arrive and she collects the cups and muffins carefully, making a beeline towards Luke's table.

"Hey, sunshine," she whispers solemnly, a gentle, comforting smile on her lips as he looks up with red rimmed eyes, a flushed nose and cheeks, and sniffles quietly.

"Hey," he croaks, wiping his eyes and looking embarrassed that she caught him in his weakest moments.

She slowly slides the muffin and caramel latte in front of him and when he looks up at her confused that she got his order right, she shrugs lightly. "Lucky guess," she says before taking the seat in front of him.

"I know we just met and aren't the best of friends, but I felt like you needed someone to talk to or else you wouldn't be sitting here in the middle of a public coffee house and crying, so... Here I am," she says, stuffing a large bite of blueberry muffin in her mouth and ignoring the crumbs that fall onto the table.

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, a dazed look in his eyes as he gazes out the window and stirs his spoon around and around the rim of his cup.

Aurora is patient, half of her cappuccino finished before he finally parts his lips to speak.

"She left me. She said she didn't want to deal with the distance when we go on tour again and that she didn't trust me to not h-hook up with other girls while I'm gone. I've never done anything but give her l-love and reasons t-to...to trust me! I would n-never cheat."

His words, heaving chest, and his trembling lip are enough to make Aurora wince in sympathy, nearly burning her tongue as he says it in the middle of her taking a larger gulp.

"I'm so sorry, Luke... I know she meant a lot to you or you wouldn't be having this reaction." He nods solemnly as her words before she continues. "If it's any consolation, she didn't deserve you after you kept trying to meet up and talk and she never showed. You tried. She didn't. Some people aren't worth your tears. I know that's not going to stop you from being upset, but it's a thought to think about."

His eyebrows furrow a bit at her words before he gives a small nod. "I guess you're right," he says, showing progress in his mood as he finally picks up his latte and takes a small sip.

It's quiet for a few more minutes and the second that Aurora sees his bottom lip start to tremble again, she panics and leans forward. "Hey," she reaches out and lightly touches his hand. "Want to get out of here? I've got this place I'd like to show you if you let me. It's a bit of a drive, but you won't regret it."

Looking down at his watch, he seems to weigh the pros and cons for a moment before giving in. "Why not?" He says, standing and throwing his jacket on as Aurora looks up, slightly dumbfounded that he accepted.

"Okay," she stands up and gets out an excited giggle, placing their cups in the bin. "Lets go"

With a wave to her sister, who was giving her a proud smirk, Luke puts on his sunglasses and they leave the coffee house, making their way to her car that was parked around the corner.

"Holy shit, this is amazing!" Luke laughs unbelievably at her cherry red 1976 Cadillac Eldorado Convertible with cream colored interior.

"Thanks! It was my granddad's!" Climbing in, she cranks the car and with an excited grin and looking both ways, she pulls out into the traffic.

The wind blows through their hair as the cruise down the roads and Aurora gently smiles when she looks over and sees Luke grinning as he looks at the scenery and people around.

"Here," She hands him her phone as she enjoys the cool breeze, placing her sunnies over her eyes. "You choose the music."

"Brave choice," he hums, taking the phone and beginning to scroll through the songs until he gets to a certain category.

"I knew it!" He shouts with a crazed laugh, Aurora giving him an odd look as she worries for his health.

"You okay there, bub?" She asks with a slight chuckle before he shoves her phone in her face with a wide grin.

"Every one of our albums, including our old EP's, and features. I knew you were a fan!" He laughs as her face drops, a blush taking over her cheeks.

"I never said I wasn't," she sticks her tongue out at him before smirking at his dumbfounded face. "Play a song, doofus." She shoves him playfully as he continues to grin, his thumb scrolling through the songs.

English Love Affair starts playing through the speakers and Aurora rolls her eyes behind her sunglasses. "I see what you did there," she laughs as he smirks over at her cheekily, his sadness hidden well, but Aurora knew it was still under the surface.

________

Oh tie up your boat, take off your coat, and take a look around

Everything is alright now

The door to the coffee shoppe chimes cheerfully the following day, making Aurora look up in curiosity. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees the familiar, lanky, blonde boy walk in but her eyes slightly widen as three other beautiful boys follow behind him.

"Holy mother of God," she mumbles to herself wide eyed as she sees Luke turn towards the piano and give her a smile and wave, making a beeline towards her with the boys in tow.

Gulping, Aurora tries to hide her shaking hands by sitting on them, nervously grinning as they come closer.

"Hey, Ro! These are my friends, Michael, Ashton, and Calum. I told them about your song and they really wanted to hear it." Aurora almost fell over as a pleasant nickname passed through his lips but what really made her vision blurry was the end of his sentence.

"O-Oh, that's so... that's so sweet, Luke. It isn't finished yet though," she frowns, biting her lip as he seems to deflate.

"Oh, well maybe next time then," he says sadly and the look on his face is enough for her to grab his hand as he starts to turn.

"Wait! I-I can show the parts I do have," she says, making his smile appear once again.

The boys all crowd around her, making her feel extremely nervous but with Luke's encouraging smile, she places her still shaking hands over the keys.

When it rain it pours but you didn't even notice

It ain't rainin' anymore, it's hard to breathe when all we know is

The struggle of staying above, the rising water line

She continues the song, trying to his cracking, nervous voice, until she no longer has any lyrics, trailing off with a quiet hum and shaky exhale. "That's all I've got so far," she looks up to see the four boys grinning at her widely.

"She's perfect, Luke," Calum says over to Luke proudly and Ashton nearly jumps up and down.

"Such a smart breadstick, you!" Ashton pats him hard on the back as Michael continues to smile but stay the calm one.

"I don't understand," Aurora nervously picks at her bottom lip as they continue to talk excitedly amongst themselves. That's when she realizes her music journal that was testing on the piano is in Ashton's hand and they are all flickering through the pages with excited grins.

"Um, excuse me," her eyebrows are now furrowed as they read her personal songs and words from her heart and Luke looks up as they hear the edge in her tone.

"Sorry, Ro," He yanks the journal out of their hands and places it back on the piano with an apologetic wince. "I think we owe an explanation." When she nods annoyed, he gulps and continues. "We are in a band called 5 Seconds of Summer."

"I know this... Plus, there's only four of you," she deadpans as Ashton snickers in the back.

"Anyway! We are in a band and we are looking for an opening act and someone to sign, but we didn't want anyone to mainstream or famous. We think you'd be perfect to open for us."

Aurora stares up at them in shock, her mouth becoming dry.

“So... what do you say?” Luke asks, his cheeks turning slightly red.

What should she say?

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