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tbmaybank · 3 years

Text

He Doesn’t Need To Know

Warnings: swearing, smut

Pairing: JJ x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve had a crush on JJ for years, but being John B’s little sister, you never acted on it. Until one day you need his help with something, and neither of you can resist anymore.

A/N: both are over 18 in this, JJ is 20, y/n is 18 :)

Also, this is my first time writing so please be nice!

(Also I have no idea on word count)

(gif is not mine)

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“Fuck” you whisper to yourself, as you’re trying to figure out who’s home to help you. Your brother, John B, wasn’t home.. not like you want him seeing what you’re doing exactly. There’s a chance either JJ or Pope was here, though.

“JJ? Are you here by chance?” You shout into the possibly empty house.

“No!” You hear him say back.

“Can you come help me real quick?” You respond in your best damsel in distress voice.

“Can’t you have John B help you?” He whines.

“He’s not here,” frustration showing in your voice, your arms are starting to hurt from holding them up so long. “Plus, I don’t exactly want him knowing about this.”

This peaked his interest. He heads towards your room, and when he sees what you’re doing, he can’t stop himself from giggling like a prepubescent boy as he asks “is that a stripper pole? In your room?”

Turning a light shade of pink, and shrugging the best you can in this position, you start to explain how you’ve been taking pole dancing lessons, and list off all the health benefits. JJ crosses his arms and leans against your doorway, raising his eyebrows while smirking at you.

“So.. basically… you could become a stripper at any time now.”

Not wanting to argue with him about how pole dancing doesn’t mean she’s going to start stripping, she snaps back “Look, can you just grab that screwdriver and come tighten these so I can finally put my arms down? It’s starting to hurt.”

“Okay fine. But on one condition.” he says as he picks up the screwdriver, tossing it between his hands, still wearing that stupid smirk. “If I do this for you, you gotta show me the moves you’ve learned.”

This comment making your stomach flip. You’ve always had a crush on JJ, just assuming he would never feel the same since you were his best friends little sister, but this comment makes you think that maybe you were wrong. “Okay, just get on with it.” You finally reply, just desperate at this point to rest your arms. He quickly approaches and tightens the four screws for you.

“Okay; now, spin on it or something to make sure it doesn’t fall over.” You say to him as you massage your arms, one at a time.

“Wait, what? So I can bust my ass if you installed it wrong?”

“Yeah? Better than you than me.”

He stares at you for a second, unable to read the look in your eyes. Wondering if he actually sees what he’s think he’s seeing, just before a second before he shakes his head to snap out of it. “Good point.” He says, then does a jumping spin on to the pole, doing an overly dramatic bow when he hops off the pole. “All good m’lady.”

He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, a wide grin across his face. “Dance time!”

“I got to change first, I’m not doing this in jeans.” You say as you make your way into the bathroom. Could you do a dance in jeans? Yeah, probably. But you know wanted to see his reaction to a certain outfit of yours. Wanted to see if he was wanting this out of an attraction to you, or to try to make you uncomfortable. And if it was the second thing, well, maybe this would flip it and make him uncomfortable instead. You look at your self in the mirror, turning to see yourself in the see through black skirt. Even though it had something under it to cover you, you couldn’t help feeling very exposed, wearing only this and a lacy bra.

Meanwhile JJ is laying on your bed, suddenly getting very nervous. He wasn’t sure why he asked for this. If he wanted to keep how he felt a secret, then getting a pole dance from you probably wasn’t the best thing. “You gotta put a song on.” He hears you say through the bathroom door. “What song?” He asks. “I don’t care, any thing works. I just can’t dance to silence.”

He fumbles with his phone as he throws Spotify on a random playlist. “I don’t know what this is, but does it work?” He says as the music starts flowing.

He’s answered by you finally stepping out of the bathroom, causing him to sit up. Eyes widening as he sees what your wearing, realizing this whole thing is going to be pure torture for him and is going to leave him needing your body against his more than he already does need it.

Now it’s your turn to smirk as you grab onto the pole. “I think we can agree that this is another thing John B doesn’t need to know about?” You say as your eyes flicker down to the bulge already forming in his pants. Unable to say anything, he just slowly nods.

You hook your leg around the pole and start with some more simple dance moves, trying your best to cover up how nervous you are. For the first part of the dance, you keep your eyes on him as much as possible - wanting to see his reactions to everything you do. After a minute though, you start just getting into the movements and stop watching him. You know the songs about to end, so you work your way into doing your favorite move; wrapping your legs around the pole towards the top, and letting yourself hang upside down and you slowly spin. Putting your hands towards the bottom of the pole, you slowly flip yourself down, finally standing on the ground again, the song being over now. You finally look at JJ, doing a tiny chuckle to yourself when you see his face.

His eyes are still wide and he looks your body up and down. His mouth parted slightly. “That was.. um…” he starts, still struggling to find words. You walk closer to him, standing with his legs are between yours, suddenly feeling confident once you see the state he’s in. Bending over to whisper in his ear, definitely giving him an even better view of your chest. “Use your words, J.”

He looks up at you, meeting your eyes. “Sexy as fuck. That was sexy as fuck, y/n.” One of hands going to the back of your thigh, right below your ass. The other grabbing the back of your neck, he pulls your lips to his.

Neither of you want to waste time as your frantically grab at each other, him pulling you more onto his lap while kissing you with pure hunger as all the frustration from years of wanting this all comes out.

He feels you start tugging on the hem of his shirt to lift it up, and he rips it all the way off, then moves his lips to your neck as you entangle your hands in his hair, not being able to help yourself from grinding on him through his pants, the bulge definitely more prominent now. You can’t stop the small moan that escapes your lips. As soon and he hears that, he smirks against your skin, and flips you over so you’re on your back. Pulling your skirt down as he kissed down your stomach. “Mm, gotta taste you baby.” He mumbles barely loud enough for you to hear.

You lift your hips slightly so he can pull off the little bit of fabric covering you. Immediately he goes to work with his mouth and hand. Making you gasp as you feel his fingers enter you while his tongue works magic on your clit. It doesn’t take long before you start to feel something building in the pit of your stomach. One of your hands running though his hair, the other gripping at the pillow your head is laying on. “Fuck, JJ..” you pant as your moans get increasingly louder. Being able to tell you’re getting close, he starts working his fingers faster, sucking on your swollen center. His free hand roams up your stomach and massages your boobs through your top, him wishing he had ripped that off already.

The quicker motions and feeling of his hand exploring your chest is enough to send you over that edge, pulling his hair as you reach your climax. He keeps going long enough for your to ride out your orgasm, then quickly comes up to attach his lips to yours again as he grinds his hips into you. You start to undo the button on his pants, and he eagerly yanks them off, and finally moving your top as well. “Been wanting this for so long, y/n,” he says between kisses on your neck, “I need you.”

Pulling his face back up to yours from your neck, you kiss him deeply before saying softly against his lips “fuck me, J.” And that’s all he needed before he’s pushing himself inside you, moans escaping both of you as his dick fills you. He starts thrusting, his hands rubbing every part of your body he can, while yours wrap around him, digging your nails into his back.

He uses one hand to grab your ass, slightly lifting your hips in the hair. At this angle, he’s hitting your spot perfectly, causing loud moans from you as you feel that familiar building starting. He continues slamming into your spot, while his lips attach to your exposed nipples. The pleasure being so great you can’t control how loud you’re getting now. ‘Thank god no one else is here..’ you think to yourself.

“You’re so close baby, come for me..” JJ says while moving his lips your other nipple. And about 5 seconds later, you do exactly what you were told to do, scratching down his back as the pleasure over takes you, positive that you’re definitely leaving marks.

Feeling your walls squeeze around him while hearing your moans and feeling the scratches your leaving down his back is enough to send him over that edge as well. He pulls out quickly, covering your stomach as he reaches his own climax.

After he’s finished, he reaches over to grab a towel that’s sitting on your nightstand to help clean you up. He collapses next to you, panting, and pulls you close to him. You lay your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you, laying in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

JJ finally breaks the silence saying “I think we found something else John B shouldn’t know about.” Chuckling as he says this.

Those words were enough to send you back to reality though. You sit up suddenly, going to your dresser to find t-shirt and shorts. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” He asks you softly as he pulls his pants back on and moving towards you.

“You’re my friend, and my brothers best friend. This is gonna make everything weird now, I just wanted this for so long and couldn’t help myself but maybe I should have kept it to myself cause everything’s going to be ruined now.” You say, way to quickly, while tears start to fill your eyes. “And if John B ever finds out, he’s going to kill both of us.”

“Hey… y/n, come here,” he pulls you into a hug. “Nothings going to be weird, and nothing is ruined, okay? And if he kills me, then it’ll had been worth it.” Running his fingers through your hair, he’s trying to be as calming at he can.

“But it is, don’t you see? Every time I look at you now, I’m going to miss this moment right here. When it’s just me and you, like this.”

“Well, this doesn’t have to be a one time thing, y/n. I was kind of hoping you’d want to be my girl, even if we do have to hide it from John B.”

This makes you feel like your heart stopped for a second. He wants you to be his girl? Of course this is what you want, but how exactly can you hide a whole relationship from your brother? “But do you really think you could lie to him for very long?”

He thinks on this for a minute. He hates lying to John B, but he hates the idea of going on without you as his even more. “Well, we could tell him eventually. But for now it could just be our little secret.”

You smile as you lean up to kiss him. “Okay. Then, I guess this means I’m your girl.” You say, making his smile grow even more.

You didn’t know how long you guys could keep this secret, but you decided to enjoy this for as long as you could.

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Let me know what you think! and if you want a part 2?

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #outer banks one shot #possible series

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clonecyare · 3 years

Text

I Can Handle Myself

Summary: You were perfectly capable of handling yourself when it came to matters of your safety. But that would never stop Fox from doing his part.

Pairing: Commander Fox x senator!reader

Tags: assination attempts, protective fox, senator!reader, republic gala, canon typical violence/shenanigans, banter, secret relationship, kissing, suggestive ending,

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: The 2nd instalment of my outfit series. This one is based on this outfit submitted by @murdertoothpick for Fox. Each fic in the series can be read as stand-alone fics.

1st instalment: Playing a Dangerous Game - Captain Rex x medic/!reader

|| Masterlist || Tag list ||

----

“I am going to say this one more time, Commander. I do not need a babysitter for this Gala, I am more than capable of handling myself.” You said matter-of-factly as you walked through the halls of the senate, datapad in hand, tapping perhaps a little passive-aggressively on the screen.

Commander Fox chuckled under his bucket, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“With all due respect, Senator, you were the target of an assassination attempt 4 days ago.”

“And I survived. Nobody would be stupid enough to try a second attempt at Republic Gala, not with the Senate present.”

Fox chuckled and fell in step with you, bumping shoulders with you as you walked. “Maybe so, but it’s the wishes of the Chancellor that you have a member of the Guard escort you, while the rest patrol the Gala.”

You stopped outside the entryway to your office and put one hand on your hip, datapad and a stack of flimsi files clutched under one arm and pointing accusingly at Fox with the other from behind the death grip you had on your caf. “You’re enjoying this.”

You nodded politely to Hound who had been standing guard at your office, and he saluted with a polite, “Ma’am.” He took his leave as Fox took his place, leaning against the doorway with his head tilted as you punched in the keycode. The doors slid open, and he followed you inside, removing his bucket with a gentle hiss and holding it under his arm against his hip.

You couldn’t help but stare a little, just briefly. He was sporting a few soft grey hairs at the sides of his neatly trimmed hair. It made him appear just a slight bit older and more sophisticated, the neat locks of loose hair framing his handsome face.

“Perhaps a little. I do get quite the kick of you not getting your own way.”

His smug comment brought your attention back to the present and you muttered something in response with narrowed eyes. Dropping the stack of files and the datapad on your desk, you hopped up to sit on the edge and crossed one knee over the other. The lightweight fabric of your skirt sported a high slit, exposing the skin of your legs and upper thigh.

You sighed, resigned to your fate and leaned back on one palm, swirling the steaming caf in your paper takeaway cup.

“Who will be my knight in shining red armour, then?”

You asked as you blew on the hot caf and took a sip.

Fox, whose eyes has been previously occupied following the slit of your skirt up to your thigh, snapped out of his daydream and plastered a handsome smirk on his face.

“Oh, that would be me. I’ll pick you up at 7 sharp, mesh’la.”

“Wha-” You did a rather ungracious spit take withyour coffee, as the Commander slid his helmet back on and moved through your office doors with one final look back at you.

“Oh, and don’t be late.”

----

Leaning into the mirror you carefully applied the deep crimson red lipstick, treating the task with the utmost delicacy, lest you waste your look entirely. You stepped back once you were through and took a moment to admire your handiwork.

Dressed head to toe in deep, rich red tones and soft fabrics, you felt you had outdone yourself this time. If you were to be on your Commander’s arm all evening, the least you could do was make an effort, right?

You smirked softly, tilting your head in the mirror. Yeah, this would show him.

You had decided to go for an elegant gown for this evening, floor-length and a deep wine red in colour. The upper portion was a bodice lined with velvet and fitted to your body, with sleek black linear detailing down the front. Around the upper edge and over the shape of your chest was lined with intricate gold detailing.

In the centre of your chest, just under the hollow of your throat, sat a delicate golden brooch, which held from each side 2 long strips of the same wine-red material from your dress, draped prettily back over your shoulders, accentuating your chest and neck.

You had chosen several simple gold jewellery items, and tied your hair up into an intricate bun, completing your look and signature red lip. You were just touching up the corners of your lipstick when there was a firm knock at your door.

You headed for the door, opening it with a smile.

“Good evening, Commander.”

You smiled, voice sweet like honey. Your Commander, to your delight, was stood frozen in the doorway looking at you. In one hand he held the cap of his dress greys and in the other, a bouquet of Queen’s Heart flowers.

“Fox?”

You smiled softly and reach a hand out to touch his forearm. The gentle touch broke him from his stare and he quickly cleared his throat, offering you the bouquet with a bow. “For you.”

You smiled and took them with a courtesy, “they’re beautiful, come in, let me find a spot for them.” You stepped aside to let him in, finding the perfect spot for the flowers on your table.

When you turned back, Fox was watching you again, though this time he was smiling handsomely. You smiled back, “well, how do I look?”

“Mesh’la. Truly mesh’la.” He smiled as he offered his arm. Your cheeks flamed a pretty pink, bringing a satisfied smirk to the Commander’s face as you slid your arm through his own.

You locked up the apartment and made your way strangely quiet Senate District. The air was crisp against your skin, cooling the warmth you felt where you were brushing arms with the soldier lightly.

“You know, you clean up pretty well outside of all that plastoid.”

You smiled playfully, looking up at him. He smiled back, chuckling and shaking his head lightly, hair bouncing lightly in the gentle breeze. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm. I would go so far as to say a 10/10.”

Fox groaned deeply in his chest, head hanging sightly. You swore it was to hide his smile.

“I hate you.”

You smiled fondly and pressed into his side, free hand resting on his arm that was holding yours.

“No, you don’t.”

----

Perhaps you may have been wrong about the Gala. Fox had his reputation for being a little… prickly, at the best of times. But, as the over the top affairs go, the Commander had proven himself quite the charmer.

He has stayed dutifully by your side most of the evening, So, having a bodyguard was, as it turned out, a blessing in disguise - though you would never admit as much to anyone else. Far fewer senatorial aides tried to approach you upon spotting the head of the Coruscant Guard on your arm. Even several of the more conservative senators passed you by upon receiving his death glare.

At one point, towards the end of the evening, you had even managed to convince the stoic Commander to join you on the ballroom floor to dance. Well, sway, would be more accurate. The two of you moved around the room in a gentle sway, you humming softly along to the tune while Fox rested his cheek atop your head.

You raised your glass of Algarine wine to your lips in an almost mini toast, “Well Commander, it seems we had noth-”

Your words died in your throat as the glass suddenly shattered in your hand. The blaster bolt that has cause it clipped your right cheek, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A roar of commotion suddenly filled the room, with several masked individuals pushing through the crowd. Most of the shots were trained on you, but you now noticed a group of them firing off into the guests as a distraction.

“Get down. Now!”

Fox barked, crowding you to the floor. Thire and Thorn were already pushing through the crowds, firing at 2 of the intruders and calling in backup.

“Commander!”

Hound threw Fox’s blasters towards him and took off after one of the assailants, Stone calling for backup. The leader of the group was faster, though, taking another shot that you managed to dodge as Fox tackled him, throwing himself between you and the hitman, and knocking his blaster from his hands. The pair wrestled for the single DC-17 that had fallen between them, each landing several punches.

In the end, the hitman got the upper hand. Blood rushed to your ears, cancelling out the commotion behind you. As soon as he pulled the pistol on the Commander, you were behind him, panting heavily, pistol to the back of his head.

“Drop it. Now. I promise I’m faster.”

Fox looked at you with wide eyes, before the dropped to your exposed thigh and the small holster secured around your upper thigh, soft brown irises slowly darkening. Discreet, made for a small pistol like an ELG-3A.

The man dropped the blaster and Fox grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, binding his wrists and looking over his shoulder at you with a chuckle as he pushed the man towards one of the Corries that had arrived.

The room was emptying now, only a few shaken aides left milling around, and few vod who were cleaning up and securing the room. Fox lifted a hand to brush a few hairs back behind your ear, and you smiled.

“I told you I could handle myself.”

Fox laughed, holding your cheek as his calloused thumb swiped over your cheek, wiping away the trail of blood. “Yes, you most certainly did, cyar’ika.”

You turned your cheek into his palm and pressed a light kiss, looking up at him.

Fox took one precursory look around the ballroom and bent down, kissing you hard. It wasn’t soft or sweet like you knew they could be. It wasn’t careful and quick, like so many of your kisses had to be in order to remain a secret.

It was rushed, and desperate. You could practically feel the adrenalin rolling off him in waves. It was an oddly comforting feeling, one you had grown to know only too well. The kind Fox radiated after gruelling sessions guarding the Senate. Or after the occasional run-in with the cesspool of Coruscant’s underworld.

But it was most notable in these moments. When you had found a way to put yourself in the firing line again. When he couldn’t let his mask slip, when he couldn’t treat you as more than a senator under his protection. When all he could do was his job.

It was these moments afterwards that he needed you the most, that you needed him. It was in these moments, you knew exactly what you both needed.

You broke away, eyes never leaving his own as you took his arm.

“Take me home, Fox.”

----

Tag list:

@captainrexsfuturewife

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Text

Trick or Treat

The next A Very Bouncey Halloween installment and a belated birthday gift to my darling @veritasrose. Thank you so much for the last year of friendship, I look forward to celebrating with you again. <3 you are much loved.

tw: curses, Geralt is an idiot, competent Jaskier

---

Light flashes through the room and momentarily blinds Jaskier, who stumbles back against Geralt. He mumbles an apology to the ever-sturdy Witcher as he waits for his vision to return and when he blinks clearly for the first time after a few long moments, the bard feels utterly and totally confused by the scene unfolding before him.

The Duke’s grandest ballroom, which had been bustling with excitable party guests only moments ago, is now flooded with ghouls, ghosts, vampires, and monsters of all sorts. A woman with swan’s wings is huddled in one corner, squawking angrily at anyone who tries to draw near. A minotaur stumbles through the center of the dance floor, lowing in frustration as he tries to control his bulky limbs. Two werewolves wrestle for dominance atop the furthest banquet table to their left. As Jaskier takes it all in, he feels Geralt’s hands wrap suddenly around his bicep; the Witcher is clinging to Jaskier fiercely, leaning his not insignificant weight against the bard’s side as his eyes grow round and watery.

“What’s happening?” Geralt finally asks. His tone of voice seems breathy and high, filled with a terror - almost totally foreign to Jaskier’s ears. Geralt fears nothing and yet… “Let’s get away from this dreadful place, please!”

“Aren’t you going to try and solve this problem?” Jaskier asks, glancing at his companion. He gestures at the various monsters roaming freely past the buffet table. “You’re likely the nearest Witcher, after all.”

“I’m no Witcher,” Geralt declares. He splays a hand over the very center of his blue velvet doublet (a nearly perfect imitation of the way Jaskier reacts to a perceived offense). “I am a Count. Witchers are dirty things, not meant for such a public life as my own.”

“For fuck’s sake, Geralt, now is not the time for a prank of this nature,” Jaskier huffs. “Something is clearly going on here. We need to help these people!”

“I know something is wrong,” Geralt sniffles - fucking sniffles - and squeezes the bard’s upper arm even more tightly. The sound of Geralt crying shakes Jaskier into understanding, even as Geralt begs: “But I don’t know how to help! Please get me out of here, Milord, I’m scared.”

Milord? Jaskier mouths to himself, even as he wraps one comforting arm around Geralt’s waist and ushers him away from the growing chaos at the center of the ballroom. Jaskier hurries them down one suspiciously empty hallway after another until he reaches the small suite that he had accepted as payment for his performance at the party. Jaskier ushers Geralt inside and locks the heavy oak door behind them.

“My Lord Geralt,” he gets the not-quite-Witcher’s attention. “Do you mind taking a seat by the fire for now? I’ll be right with you as soon as the room is secure, and then we can figure out what’s going on and what to do from here.”

“Yes, Milord,” Geralt nods. He hurries to comply with Jaskier’s request, to the bard’s continuing shock and awe, and stays still and quiet as Jaskier removes his doublet and rolls up his sleeves. Using the strength he’s spent twelve years at Geralt’s side developing, Jaskier shoves a bookcase, a dresser, and an unfortunately designed roll-top desk in front of the locked doors for added protection.

Moving behind Geralt with practiced efficiency, Jaskier also closes, shutters, and locks every window in the room, pulling the curtains closed to keep any light from spilling out and alerting stray creatures of their presence.

When he’s finished locking down all of their room’s possible entrances and breathing hard from exertion, Jaskier tugs the Witcher’s xenovox from his bag and flips it open, waiting with bated breath until Yennefer’s irritated voice snaps: “What do you want, Geralt?”

“Who is that?!” Geralt cries from his place near the fire. He has a white-knuckle grip on the overstuffed armchair he’s perched in and his clothing is mussed; Jaskier motions for him to be quiet and Geralt bites his lip, worrying the soft pink skin between his unusually dull canines.

“Was that Geralt?” Yennefer asks. "Did Jaskier summon me?"

“Yes and yes,” Jaskier replies. “I think he’s been cursed or enchanted or something. I was hired to play at the Duke of Rinde’s All Hallow’s Eve celebration and Geralt accompanied me - even dressed up for the occasion - but something happened at the party and now he’s acting strangely. I don’t know what to do.”

"What's happening?" Yennefer prods.

"Geralt is acting rather out of sorts. He’s speaking strangely, he wanted to flee the party rather than investigate the source of the changes-”

“What changes?”

“Everyone sort of… Well, a good portion of the party guests suddenly transformed into their costumes,” Jaskier explains, his speech stunted by his disbelief. “I know it sounds incredible, and it was! One moment we were all enjoying the music and the next… there was a minotaur and a mermaid and a faun… Geralt went nearly mute and started clinging to my arm like some sort of aristocratic maiden!”

“Oh shit,” Yen groans.

“Who is that?” Geralt repeats. Jaskier continues to ignore his companion. He knows that the moment he turns his attention to caring for Geralt, he won’t be able to tear it away again, and he needs to finish this conversation with Yennefer first.

“Why are you swearing?” he asks the sorceress. “What is it?”

“Geralt asked me for advice about this stupid ball a few days ago, while you were busy making arrangements with the Duke. He wanted to impress you with his All Hallow’s Eve costume and prove that he could be just as fancy and well-mannered as all the other men of your status.”

“Why in the world would Geralt want to dress up and act like a nobleman? It makes no sense! He detests small talk, he hates vanity, and he finds most men of my station to be cowardly and overly delicate - myself included! I just- I don’t quite understand why he’d go through all of this just to impress me. Or why he thinks this kind of thing would be impressive in the first place.”

“Jaskier, please tell me that you aren’t as stupid as our mutually beloved Witcher…”

Jaskier considers for a moment, pondering the things that he does to impress Geralt: gathering wood, learning to cook with game meat, preparing the Witcher’s potion ingredients while he's out on hunts, organizing their packs when they're spiking camp, brushing Roach’s mane… Realization dawns suddenly and all at once. He has a moment of pure understanding, a moment much beloved by every poet, bard, and playwright across the Continent: “Oh.”

Yennefer gives a tired laugh. “Yeah.”

“So he’s stuck as… a noble?”

“I suppose,” she sighs. “I’ll portal you to my location and we can figure things out in peace. Get your things together, I’ll open it up in precisely five minutes.”

“What’s happening!?” Geralt demands. Jaskier pulls the Witcher/Count to his feet and bows shallowly.

“I am Jaskier Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. I will be your protector and chaperone for the foreseeable future, Your Lordship,” Jaskier bows shallowly. “I’m going to gather our things together and then we are going to meet up with a very lovely sorceress, Yennefer of Vengerberg.”

“Is she a friend of yours?”

Jaskier barely manages to hide his surprise at Geralt’s utter lack of recognition. His memories of Yennefer have also been taken, then.

“She’s a mutual friend.”

“Are you my friend?”

“I would like to think so,” Jaskier smiles. Geralt remains oblivious to the bard’s heartache, even as he curls himself against Jaskier. He tucks his face against Jaskier’s shoulder and sobs quietly. The bard runs his hands comfortingly up and down Geralt’s spine for a long, soothing moment. The smooth, royal-blue velvet tickles his fingertips. “Shh, dear heart. I’ve got you. Everything will be alright, I swear.”

“I trust you,” Geralt whispers.

Just as Jaskier is about to reply, Yennefer’s portal snaps open in the center of the room. Jaskier hands Geralt a set of bags and hauls his own over his shoulder. “Time to go, Your Lordship. Just take one little step…”

---

“Do you know who I am?” Yennefer asks. Geralt shakes his head before burying his face in the back of Jaskier’s shoulder-blade.

“I’m so frightened, Milord.”

Frightened? Milord? Yennefer mouths. Jaskier shrugs nearly imperceptibly and makes a panicked gesture in the Witcher’s general direction.

“I don’t know what to do either!”

“Well, start from the beginning. Tell me what happened at the party before all of… this.”

Jaskier recounts every detail he can remember in the most straightforward way possible, momentarily renouncing his poetic skills in favor of efficiency - for Geralt’s sake, of course, not Yennefer’s. When he's finished he asks: “And you said he did all of this to impress me?”

“Yes.”

“But why?” Jaskier repeats his earlier question. Yennefer understands that his meaning is different; Jaskier understands that Geralt is interested in him romantically, but the bard can't seem to get it through his head that Geralt has deemed him worthy. Although, knowing the Witcher, he isn't even sure how to go about doing such a thing in the first place.

"I just... I don’t quite believe you," he adds.

“He loves you,” Yennefer reiterates. "And now he’s stuck like this until the effects of the spell wear off, so I suggest you take his precious Lordship to one of my spare rooms and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll see you both for breakfast, providing the magic is null and void by then.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“I hope you enjoy small talk, you bardic bastard.”

Yennefer smirks and disappears from the room in a whirl of black and white silk, the scents of lilac and gooseberry curling through the air in her wake.

Geralt clings to Jaskier’s bicep again as the exhausted bard stands, keeping his larger body pressed against the human’s side as if Jaskier is the one who wields the Witcher’s swords. “So I’m under a spell?”

“Yes, darling.”

“At least I have you here to protect me, Jaskier. You’re so brave and strong; my hero!”

“It’s usually the other way around, dear heart, but I appreciate the sentiment. Now, how about we find a comfortable place to bed down for the night, Milord?”

"Alright."

Jaskier moves Geralt's hand so that it's curled around the inside of his elbow, the proper etiquette for a platonic escort, and leads him quickly down the long hallways of Yennefer's sprawling manor house. He chooses the blue-themed bedroom at the back of the East Wing, far from the sorceress' own suite of rooms.

He has to help Geralt change out of his lordly costume, the Witcher-turned-Count fumbling uselessly at the laces and buttons as if he'd never seen a fastening before in his life. Geralt whispers shyly as Jaskier pulls a nightshirt over his head: "Thank you again, Milord Jaskier. I feel as if I can't help but continue indebting myself to you."

"Think nothing of it, dear heart," Jaskier smiles, ignoring the pang in his chest. "I am happy to help you."

Jaskier tucks Geralt into bed before changing into his own nightclothes, tossing his things back into their travel bags as he swaps outfits. He feels Geralt tense up when he sits on the edge of the bed and his eyebrows narrow in concern.

"Are you alright, Geralt?"

"Are you going to share a bed with me?"

"Would you rather I didn't?" Jaskier answers with a question of his own.

"I... I wouldn't mind it if we shared."

Jaskier wishes he had Witcher sight, so he could catch a glimpse of the blush no doubt attempting to stain the Witcher's face. Despite the mutagens, Geralt's face still went pale pink when he encountered a strong emotion. It was adorable. And incredibly rare.

As soon as he pulls the covers over his chest, Geralt glues himself to Jaskier's side, snuggling close. "Feels safer," he says in lieu of explanation.

"Goodnight, dear heart."

"Goodnight."

---

"Fuck," Geralt groans, sitting up in bed. Jaskier sits up beside him, wiping the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Good morning, Milord," he teases.

"Shut up," Geralt groans. Jaskier does get to see him blush this time, and the bard revels in it; he would trade all the gold in the world to see Geralt flush like this. "I can't believe I cried on you!"

"It was rather adorable, actually."

"Hmm."

"Still..." Jaskier reaches out, tentative, and cups Geralt's cheek with his palm. He turns the Witcher's face and locks their gazes together, blue meeting gold. "Still, I think I prefer you as you are. My big, strong Witcher who cares so much about defending the little guy. Willing to step in and help wherever and whenever he can."

Geralt's eyes get a little glassy and he leans forward, pausing and letting Jaskier make the final decision. The bard meets him halfway, pressing his lips against Geralt's without any sense of urgency at all. It's warm and sweet, time fading away as they let their feelings pour through this one simple gesture. When they pull apart again, Geralt gives a surprised, lopsided smile. "Oh."

#geraskier #geraskier fluff #a very bouncey halloween #geraskier first kiss #geraskier and buffy #btvs au #geraskier fluff and silliness #curses #cursed geralt #nobleman geralt #yennefer was there #bamf jaskier #competent jaskier

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redrobbingabank · 3 years

Text

Prison Break

Tw: lots of violence, blood

The white pastry box in her hands was heavy with the weight of the pie. Niki walked down the prime path the way she always did, smiling softly, sweater sleeves covering her hands. It had been a long time since she truly felt the way. She wasn’t sure when it had become a disguise, but it had, and everyone believed it without batting an eye. Beneath it, rage burned, hot but controlled. Always controlled. Her best weapon, she knew, was how she was perceived. Patience would pay off. Nothing but pain was coming for the people who’d locked her friend away.

She found Sam outside the museum. He leaned against the pillar, turning an unlit cigarette over and over in his fingers. He glanced up at her footsteps, then pushed himself off the pillar and pocketed the cigarette.

Niki smiled brightly. “Sam! I was just looking for you.” She hurried up the steps and under the awning outside the museum. The light rain a few feet away droned on.

“Hey, Niki.” Sam sounded tired. He looked it, too. Purple bags under his eyes were made starker by the unhealthy pallor of his face. “How are you?”

“I’m good. Are you okay?” she asked, arranging her features into a concerned look. “You look exhausted.”

Sam blinked a few times. “Yeah, I’m good. Just all the stuff that’s happened around the prison. Tommy, you know?”

No mention of Techno. Nothing about the lies, about how he and Quackity had pulled him away from his damn birthday party to lure him in. Niki nodded understandingly. “I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end,” she said. Then she held out the box. “I made you a pie. Felt like you might need a pick me up on guard duty so often.”

A small smile appeared on Sam’s face. “Thanks, Niki. I really appreciate that.” He took the box, opening it to find a pumpkin pie and cutlery taped to the side. “Pumpkin! My favorite.”

“I was hoping I remembered right.” Niki smiled again. There was a chance it wouldn’t work, she knew. That Sam would set it aside for later. But he had a parentlike streak. Niki had seen it in his interactions with Tommy. So she tweaked her gaze, made it subtly more hopeful and excited. Sam noticed, and freed the fork from the side of the box. He relaxed a little at the first bite of the comfort food and immediately ate more. “It’s good?” Niki asked sweetly.

Sam nodded. “It’s amazing. Thank you, Niki, really. I needed this.” He swallowed another bite, and two things that would oppose each other happened. First, his eyes widened with panic. Then they began turning glassy. “What…” his knees buckled, and he slowly slid down the pillar before falling sideways.

It had worked. Niki and Jack had been playing around for a while. Mixing potions together, testing the effects. They’d found a combination Jack had named Aurora’s Poison. Weakness, slowness, the scantest drop of harming, and a ground up petal from a wither rose. Death without stillness.

Sam’s face had taken on a bluish tinge, but his chest still moved up and down. His eyes were half open. “Niki… ” he mumbled, “help.”

Finally, the facade could fall. Niki’s smile turned into a cold smirk. She squatted beside him, strands of pink hair falling into her face. “Oh, Sam.” His lighter had fallen from his pocket. She picked it up and sparked it, studying the flame before looking back at him. “You don’t deserve my help.”

There was the faintest glimmer of realization in his eyes before they closed for good. “Sweet dreams, Warden. The Syndicate sends its regards,” Niki murmured. She stood. Let Quackity try to wake him. He was a living corpse.

She stepped back into the rain, her boots the only sound on the prime path as she returned to the underground bunker Techno had left in his instructions. Phil and Ranboo were already inside and suited up. There were two more pairs of netherite armor on stands against the back wall. One was for her. The second was for Techno.

“How’d it go?” Phil asked.

“Perfectly,” she replied, tying the straps of the chestplate. Phil’s armor had two bumps on the back, designed specifically to accommodate his wings. He had his sword in hand, shield leaning against his wall. A crossbow and quiver were slung across his back, and Techno’s sword hung from his belt. “Didn’t know what hit him.”

Ranboo looked the calmest Niki had ever seen him. Normally, he fidgeted constantly. Now, his hands were still, aside from the way they drifted to his axe handle. His face was set determinedly, and his crown hung from his armor stand, swapped out for a helmet. He’d been the one to get them the armor. It shone with the best enchantment the server could offer. Niki had known he was rich, but she hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d been sitting on. Her jaw had nearly dropped when, before they set out, he passed a totem to each of them.

“Need help?” he asked, taking half a step towards her when she started struggling with her gauntlets.

“I’ve got it.” Ranboo returned to the wall. He began tracing the blade of his axe lightly with his finger.

When she’d finally gotten all her armor in place, Niki crossed to the rack of weapons. She seized her bow and a quiver of harming arrows, slinging them across her back. She and Phil were the contingency plans if they were somehow pursued. Finally, she picked up her own axe. Its enchantments hummed, sending thrills up her arm. “Ready.”

“Ranboo?” Phil asked. The teenager nodded. “Alright, then.” He flicked the lever by the door. The sound of breaking glass filled the air as potion bottles broke. Niki felt the difference immediately, her bones strengthening with the magic. “Let’s go.”

Phil had known anger before. His life had been too long not to. There had been a time, before Techno, before Wilbur, that he let it consume him. Then Techno had arrived, and it was like impulse control had been installed. They were still formidable, of course, but Phil didn’t seek war anymore.

He knew grief, too. He knew the way it moved, the way it played with you until you wanted to sink beneath its waves and drown. It had consumed him after Wil’s death. He could hardly bring himself to clean his sword before he fell into a stupor in front of the fireplace. It had been Techno, again, who pulled him out of it. Who’d given him a new sword and convinced him to play war games until the sight of blood didn’t send him vomiting to the bathroom. There would be no Techno to pull him out if this went wrong. Phil might as well be dead too.

Ranboo and Niki followed him out of the bunker. The streets were empty as they silently made their way to the prison.

They didn’t bother to ring the bell. The three of them stood in the portal until reality straightened itself out. Phil had Techno’s will clutched in his hand. The bundle of papers had been empty, at first, until a few days ago. Writing had begun appearing, in Dream’s messy, spiked scrawl. Sam was a fool, Phil thought. He couldn’t take away Techno’s knowledge of spells.

He strode to the corner of the little room they were in. A loose tile was there, easily unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it. Phil lifted it and threw it to the side. There was a loud crack when it hit the wall. He flipped the lever beneath it. “Thirty seconds before it resets,” he said, returning to the portal. Niki and Ranboo followed suit, and the prison constructed itself around them.

It was all so darkly decorated. Alright, edgelord, Phil thought sarcastically. They bypassed the waver on its lectern and the lockers to the side. Phil flicked the levers according to the code Techno had written. A door opened, and they took the tunnel Sam used into the next room.

Their way through the prison was marked by similar proceedings, and Phil’s mind was left to go on autopilot.

Techno knew it was a trap. He’d told him so a week ago, standing in the snow outside their houses. The moment he was out of sight, Phil had opened the will. He’d thought the message of the empty papers was clear: do what you want, lol.

So he’d gone to the stasis chambers and waited by the levers. Three days, he gave himself. Then he’d hit the lever, and Techno would be home safe.

Then it was four days, and Phil wasn’t sure why he’d waited longer. The pearls were a safety blanket. Using them would make things better. Unless what they revealed made it worse.

Then, on the fifth day, he’d woken up to a scratchy, crinkly noise from the will. Scrambling out of bed, he’d turned the pages over, and found the ink still wet. And what had Techno written, first thing?

PHIL, DON’T USE THE PEARLS. I NEED THE VIEWS FROM A COOL ESCAPE.

The dramatic little shit. But Techno had lain out his plan, and like always, it was smart. Phil had gathered the Syndicate, and they’d been ready.

A hint of nerves appeared in Ranboo’s eyes when they passed the iron door into the main cell area. Phil understood it. When they’d hung out, Ranboo told him how it was the point of no return, in a way. They all remembered what happened to Tommy. But Ranboo had three lives, Phil assured himself, and hoped the teen remembered too. He’d be fine. So would Niki. And Techno.

They travelled through the respawn checkpoints and extra rooms until they were in front of the lava wall. Ranboo glanced at the bed. “Should we set our spawn here?”

Phil shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to be spawn-trapped in here, but if you want to, go ahead.” Ranboo looked at the ground. Remorse tugged at Phil. “Sorry. Just a joke,” he said. Ranboo nodded.

Waiting for the lava to come down would take too long. Phil threw a few potions of fire resistance down on them and flipped the lever so the bridge would be safe when they returned. Then, with Ranboo and Niki standing on the bridge, he flipped the lever. He ran and leapt onto the bridge with the help of the jump boost pots from earlier.

The flames surrounded them in orange light. They couldn’t see each other. The lava tickled, almost, drying them off from the rain outside.

They came out the other side with a few blocks between them and the cell. Phil blinked a few times, readjusting to the low light, and froze. He hadn’t expected to be greeted by what was there.

Ranboo worried. It was in his nature. So of course, when he’d heard the plan, he took precautions for failure.

Tubbo was back in Snowchester with Jack by his request. They were in the control room, with a nuke armed and ready to hit the prison. Michael would be there too. Ranboo had made Tubbo promise not to let him out of his sight. Ranboo had never been more grateful for his husband’s habit of not asking questions.

His comms had been burning a hole in his pocket the whole way here. One message and it would all go up.

Now, though, he forgot all about the nukes as the bridge came to a stop at the cell block. Anger took its place. “Quackity,” he said in a near growl, “what are you doing.”

The scene before them looked like a horror movie. Blood, dry and fresh, coated the floor of the cell. Dream –– Dream –– was curled in the corner, shaking. Quackity stood in the middle of the room with a sword in his hand, grinning. And Techno.

Ranboo’s friend was standing by the back wall. His cape was torn. He was bleeding, too, but Ranboo couldn’t tell from where. He did, however, see the way Techno was just barely leaning against the wall behind him. His heart clenched.

“Oh, hey guys,” Techno said. Despite everything, his voice still came out strong and unbothered. “Nice timing.”

“Hey, guys.” Quackity flipped the sword in his grip so the point was against the ground, then leaned on the hilt. “Surprise seeing you here.” His easy grin didn’t reach his eye.

Ranboo vaguely remembered a day in old L’Manburg. He and Quackity had shared a pot of coffee and talked about Ranboo’s thoughts on people versus sides. He’d felt like Quackity understood. He’d thought he’d befriended someone who wouldn’t betray him. “Quackity,” he repeated, lifting his axe, “what are you doing.”

Behind him, Niki and Phil were moving. He didn’t pay attention to their movements, just trusting them to be ready.

“Ranboo,” Quackity said. “I get you’re probably mad. I saw you at Techno’s party, you two are friends. So first, I’m sorry you had to see this.” I bet you are, Ranboo thought. “Second, I’m only doing it because Techno’s a threat. I can’t let him be out in the world, causing problems.”

“You. Are. Torturing. Him,” Ranboo said. “Both of them!”

“Eh, Dream’s had it worse,” Techno shrugged.

“Shut up,” Quackity snapped. Ranboo’s temper snapped.

Of all the people in the room, Quackity probably hadn’t expected Ranboo to make the first move. It took him two steps to reach him, three more to shove him back against the wall. He held his axe to Quackity’s throat. “Who’s next on your list, huh?” he snarled. “Who’s the next ‘threat’ you’re gonna take out?”

Quackity’s eyes flashed. “Well, I hadn’t been thinking on it much,” he grinned, “but Tubbo and that outpost aren’t exactly making me feel comfortable.”

A furious scream built in Ranboo’s throat. He drew back his axe, to do what he didn’t know ––

“Ranboo?” It was Dream, looking up at him. For a moment, Ranboo was thrown into chaos. He couldn’t tell if it was really Dream, or all in his head. A small blade pierced the chink in his armor. He stumbled back, blinking, and the time it took for him to rip the cork from a Regen pot and pour it over the spot was all Quackity needed to ruin his advantage.

He launched himself at Ranboo. Phil intercepted him, netherite screaming as their swords collided. Niki was by Techno, offering him Healing and Regen while he leaned more heavily on the wall.

The moment the prickling in his gut subsided, Ranboo threw himself into the fight. Phil was quickly left out, which he seemed alright with. From the corner of his eye Ranboo saw him kneeling by Techno as well.

He hadn’t expected the fight to be so short, for his part. Anger fueled him, and something else. The Enderwalk, rising up in his unsteady mental state and giving him strength he didn’t know he had.

Cuts opened on Quackity’s limbs. His laughter turned to panting in the confined space. “This all you’ve got?” he yelled, out of breath. He tripped, stumbled, and fell against the wall near the lava.

Ranboo stood over him, axe in hand and red with blood. The natural course from here was to end it, right? Kill Quackity, kick him into lava? But the day in L’Manberg wouldn’t leave his head.

“You can’t do it, can you?” Quackity said. Somehow he managed to look relaxed, leaning against the obsidian as blood soaked his clothes. “I remember being that weak. It was awful. Really, Ranboo, don’t mess with me. The house always wins. You don’t want to start this.”

“Oh, shut up.” Ranboo swung his axe, and the handle collided with Quackity’s head. He slumped against the wall, eyes closed. Blood trickled from beneath his hair, but his chest still rose and fell. Ranboo left him there and returned to his friends.

Niki and Phil had taken care of most of Techno’s injuries, though he had his arms around their shoulders. “I can walk by myself, guys, seriously,” he said, but was immediately cut off by the two of them saying “bullshit” in unison. “Well, one of you needs to get Dream,” he said.

They paused. “Dream?” Niki asked incredulously.

“Yeah. Look at him, Quackity’s been giving him hell.” He glanced at Ranboo. “But hey, Syndicate rules, remember? You guys don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna. You can go ahead on the bridge and send it back to us.”

Ranboo and Niki shared a glance. They had both been citizens of L’Manberg. They had both been victims of Dream in some way. Ranboo knew Phil had helped destroy L’Manberg like it was a business deal, but he would agree with Techno. They wouldn’t follow Dream, but they’d help him. And as pathetic as the man looked in the corner of the cell, Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to do the same.

He looked Techno in the eye. “This doesn’t change my loyalty to the Syndicate. I just can’t justify helping Dream. I’ll still stand with you in other matters.”

“Got it.” Techno grinned. “Just don’t trap us in here again.”

Ranboo returned the smile, stepping onto the bridge. Niki followed him. “Sorry, Techno,” she said. “But I agree with Ranboo. He’s done too much to hurt me.”

Techno nodded. Niki knocked an arrow and shot it across the now empty pit. It hit the button on the other side, and the bridge began moving. When they reached the other side, Niki removed it from the button before hitting it once more.

“You can go ahead,” Ranboo said. “I’ll bring them back.”

Niki smiled at him. “Thanks. You fought well, Ranboo. See you at the next meeting.” She disappeared back into Sam’s tunnels, which Phil had left open.

Ranboo waited until Phil and Techno were safely on the bridge, Dream draped between them, to press the button one final time. Before it had reached full speed, he was traversing the tunnels himself, moving back towards Snowchester and his family. Quackity would find a way out of the prison, he knew. Tubbo and he would need to be ready.

#dream smp #dreamsmp #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fic #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fic #nihachu #philza minecraft #philza #ranboo #technoblade #dream #pandoras vault #awesamdude #quackity

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multipandombabe · 4 years

Text

A Nate Jacobs Blurb part 2

A/N: Here it is! The long awaited part 2 I’ve had so many of you ask for lol. I want to mention before reading that the opening scene takes place after an hour or two into the party scene and kinda just opens up on a random scene. I didn’t feel like there was any real need to make this super long as I only wrote the most definitive moment for these characters to carry the storyline along.

I hope to continue this story as I do have many ideas but anything I post will probably just continue to be written as installments such as this and the one previous to it, as I don’t want it to be my main line of work. I’m always coming up with new ideas and I don’t like simply having one on the forefront as it places to much pressure on writing.

Regardless I hope you enjoy!

a disclaimer: If you have seen the show Euphoria you know what the character Nate Jacobs is like and what he’s done. This is not me condoning the actions of this character--in fact, I urge you to view him as the bad guy he is when reading this. That’s how I wrote it, that’s what I wanted to portray because I’ve yet to write a character as such. Though his actions may not come off as terrible when reading this remember who he is written as and try and read it in that way.

WARNINGS: alluded sexual assault, foul language

The crystalize haze taking over her entire perception of reality right now was almost near blinding to what was happening. The alcohol and whatever that asshole had slipped into her drink had truly and officially taken its toll on her physical being, her vision and balance being hit the worst. Her body laid skewed across the pile of blankets and sheets, having little to no strength to even shuffle through them and find her way up.

She couldn’t determine though if that was solely for the obvious roofie or also from the shock of watching Nate barge into the room—practically snapping the door off it’s hinges, and ripping Chris from atop of her before (with a speed she had never witnessed in her life) wrestling him out the door and down the hallway.

Through it all though and the now busted open door she was able to make out the figures of everyone still filling the living room from her placement on the guest bed, the energy to move no longer permitted in her body but simply her eyes which watched with as much intent as they could muster up.

There was yelling, screaming, and a series of other loud noises, all echoing back to her a million times louder than they probably actually were. Figures moved in flashes and the lights burned into her skull as they danced across the catastrophe spilling all over Elias’ parents’ living room wood. Her hands were on her temples before she could even feel them, body making the intent of covering her ears to attempt to silence all the overstimulation.

Bleary eyed she breathed a deep sigh and tried to find herself, but that moment being ripped away as another set of yelling broke out, the shrills emitted from Nate himself.

He was in the dead center of it all, hands (from what she could tell) wrapped around the throat of Chris Daniel’s as he looked to be throwing him to the floor. Followed by more commotion, a body hitting the floor—it looked to give the tall brunette new access to whomever’s torso, as he barreled his foot into it repeatedly.

If only she wasn’t swimming her own vision, her own thoughts, maybe then she could truly make it all out. But the way that pill made her skin ripple over her bones and her own brain pound its way out of her skull was too much, focus was lost on her.

Before she even had a choice to say or do otherwise her eyes slipped closed and she sunk into the abyss of her body again.

Though she was nearing unconsciousness her ears pricked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. They were distinctively heavy and almost mismatched—like the person was stumbling over their own two feet.

Crossing the carpet until they were near her own body she could hear mumbling above her.

“God dammit.”

Even in her current state she could recognize that voice, the one that belonged to the person who was just moments ago beating the life out of someone. Nate.

“Look at you.” He whispered.

The feelings of hands along the sides of her hips heightened her senses for a split second, a whine rolling from the back of her lips as to protest.

“Shh shh shh, it’s okay it’s okay.” The fingertips grasped at the length of her dress and slowly they pulled it back down-- the whole movement now familiar to a piece of her memory somewhere in the back of her mind, “You’re okay I promise.”

There was a brush of her hair out of her face, the touch cascading down her face to her shoulders where she could make little notice of her sleeves being pulled back up.

Within seconds the same arms were now wrapped around her form and she was being lifted from the bed. The rocking of her motionless figure was the only distinctive thing she was able to recognize before sleep finally took her under in one vast swoop of both of her eyes shutting close. —————————

(POV SWITCH)

Swaying gently back and forth on his feet Nate turned the hall into her bedroom, careful to watch her head as he shuffled through the door.

The memories of their infamous night flooded back to him instantly, but now as he carried her unconscious body to her bed, he was able to take in the details surrounding them. Her room was a light shade of blue, decorated with huge posters starring various artists and movie stars.

It triggered a memory from a month or so ago. Sat around a lunch table only one over from her own he could vividly remember overhearing her and April Denavive discussing that Timothée Chalamet kid and how Y/N had such an affinity for him.

”He was so incredible in Little Women, I swear I’d give anything to just hold his hand or something.” Nate from his seat could see that her rambles caused April to snort into her fruit cup, the red head shaking her head at her friend.

”God Y/N you’re such a virgin.”

She made sure to swat at April’s arm, poking her finger into her side for sure measure, ”Oh fuck off.”

April laughed aloud once more as she pushed back before managing to maneuver her arms around her friend, squeezing her in a tight embrace before pressing kisses to her cheeks.

”No no no, it’s cute!” She gushed, “It’s cute how much you want to fuck that French boy but can’t work up the nerve to say it.”

”April! God--He’s American his dad is just French--oh you know what never mind I hate you.” “N-Nate?”

Returning back to reality Nate was almost startled at the sound of another voice, completely forgetting where he was for a moment. Drawing his eyes downward he found himself back in Y/N’s room, still hovering over her side.

“Shh,” he cooed, fingers tangling in the ends of her hair as he brushed them off of her forehead, admiring the array of glitter from her eyeshadow decorating her skin. It made her shine even brighter than how he always saw her. “You’re safe now..sleep.”

She rustled amongst her blankets, nose curling and eyebrows furrowing as she struggled, a huff following.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, instantly taking notice of her discomfort. She whined innocently, sitting herself up with her eyes still wired shut and began to tug at the sleeves of her dress.

“Itchy,” She breathed another huff as she tore at the seems, “Need it...off.”

Nate’s entire demeanor shifted. He watched her meticulously as she pulled at the material until it was up and over her chest—but the poor drunk girl seemed to lose all momentum as her arms suddenly dropped, the dress now a mess sagging off of her neck.

Another shrill moan echoed from Y/N, not having the energy to pull the rest of the dress off and expressing her frustrations. Nate waved her off.

“Shush, I’ve got it.” Reaching forward he pulled the rest of the dress up and off of her figure, careful to not get her earrings or hair caught, before tossing it to the side just shy of her hamper he noticed upon entrance into her room.

A deep, noticeable breath expelled from her lungs before she fell back amongst the pillows, body now severely bare to Nate—the only thing keeping her covered being her bra with a pair of matching panties around her hips.

It was pink, the bra, lace yet exuded softness with its subtle tone of color and petite bow in the middle to add a touch of innocence. Her underwear resonated in the same way; they were different than Nate had pictured when his fingers grasped at them earlier that night. He was expecting something more revealing as was common with most girls at parties like that, or in high school in general. But they weren’t—they were form fitting, far from raunchy and bore a soft pink hue like her bra, which was different than the deep red he once imagined.

And it all looked so right on her.

Y/N had seemed to finally settle in her sheets, sleep overtaking her whole figure as she noticeably sank deeper into the mattress. Nate took that as his moment to breathe in, truly, the sight before him.

His eyes nearly followed her every move with adamancy, in an effort to note every singular detail possibly manufactured by her sleeping frame that he could then later remember at his pleasing.

“You are so,” his fingers traced down the length of her arm, watching as the touch triggered a wave of goosebumps even as she was unconscious; He smiled, “Perfect.”

Drawing back he grasped at the blanket before tugging it up and over her body, covering her up to her chest. Tucking in the sides of the cover to her skin he rustled them until he deemed her absolutely comfortable and then took his place at the flank of her bed once more.

“And you are all mine.” -------------------------

A/N: Hope you enjoyed, send requests for more if you liked!

#nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #euphoria #nate jacobs imagine #I literally didn’t proof read this at all so I apologize in advance lmao

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guqin-and-flute · 3 years

Text

In Your Hands--Ch. 5 [Peony to Lotus!Verse]

[Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4]

[This whole fic is the second chronological installment of the Peony to Lotus!Verse]

[First Installment] [Ao3 Series]

[CW: Vague mention of abortion, discussions of not-actually-happening spousal abuse, canon typical classism and anti-sex worker rhetoric, very mild emetophobia warning (nothing actually happens)]

She has a single moment for her sleep-slow brain to think; Madam Jin? Why on earth is she here without sending word? Is there an emergency? Has something happened to Jin Zixuan? before He Si’s voice comes again, more frantic, saying, “Oh--Ah, furen, I don’t think--!”

The door flies open with a bang and Yanli jumps, clutching the makeup removing cloth to her chest. All at once, Madam Jin is here, in her room, ashen and wind scattered, sweeping over in a flood of gold and a thick perfume, “Oh Gods, look at you,” she moans despairingly, gathering up Yanli’s free hand in an iron grip. “How far along are you? No, it doesn’t matter--these things can be dealt with when we return to Koi Tower. You,” she snaps, turning to He Si who is hovering anxiously in the doorway, hands at her mouth. “Begin packing her things.”

What? ...What?

He Si shoots her a furtive look before scurrying to her wardrobe. But her voice is held hostage by her fog-slow mind and she can only blink, stunned. It’s being bowled over by an unstoppable wave; Yanli is towed, bewildered and spinning in its undertow, still scrambling to understand. Madam Jin, however, is rolling right along, petting the back of her hand with her soft, sky-frozen fingers. “Oh, you look awful. I’ll have him gutted, I’ll have them all gutted, how could they do this to you? Men,” she spits the word like a curse, her features twisted into a snarl that reminds Yanli so much of her own mother in a temper. “I came as soon as I heard what my brute of a husband had done, but I nearly qi deviated first. You don’t have to worry, A-Li, I’m going to fix this; he is never going to touch you again. Look at me, child, let me see you.” Every line in her face is etched like agony, like fury as she presses her hand to Yanli’s cheek. “Has he hurt you?”

He? Sect Leader Jin? She hasn’t seen him since the wedding.

In fact, she hasn’t seen or heard from Madam Jin herself since before that, during Yanli’s stay at Koi Tower during the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. She hadn’t attended her wedding.

That had hurt her, for she had always been a dear friend of her mother’s and an auntie to Yanli, always taking an interest in her--though she had always assumed some of that had been as a future mother-in-law. She had wondered if Madam Jin was upset with her for how the engagement had gone and if her absence was her showing disapproval. (Yanli had had to shake herself free of that gnawing guilt whenever she thought about this, reminding herself that it was Jin Zixuan who had rejected the engagement and that even if she could somehow be in trouble for marrying A-Yao, she would never regret it.) When she had diffidently asked after Madam Jin’s absence, Sect Leader Jin had merely smiled widely and waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, she’s out traveling, visiting distant relatives and old friends. Socializing. You know how women are.”

Yanli had thought that she had a much better idea of how women were than Sect Leader Jin might, but had smiled politely, bowed, and accepted this.

Now, she watches helplessly as He Si drags a trunk out from a corner and begins layering her robes into it, sneaking frightened looks back at her mistress. “I don’t....” Yanli manages, voice cracked and thin. “Jin-furen, I’m not--I don’t--”

Madam Jin nods, her smile wobbly and proud, as if Yanli is being very brave. “It’s alright, dear. I’m here now. I’m here to take you with me, A-Li, you don’t have to stay here another minute.”

What? As she opens her mouth to protest, to ask what on earth is going on, all that Madam Jin had said finally manages to squeeze itself into her sluggish brain. Cold rushes over her like ice water.

Madam Jin hadn’t known about the marriage. Sect Leader Jin hadn’t told her, he had done it behind her back. She thinks Yanli was forced into this. She thinks A-Yao is hurting her. She thinks she’s rescuing her. The frantic speeding of her heart spins her head, as if the room is revolving around her, her thoughts a jumble. “No, Jin-furen, you don’t--you don’t understand--”

“Shhh, A-Li, I understand more than you know. The way the world uses women is not new to me. You’re not alone in this.”

“No, I--I know that I’m not--”

Madam Jin nods gently, encouragingly, sending the beautiful golden pendant from her hair stick swinging as she strokes Yanli’s cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Yes, exactly, you’re not. I’m here for you. I will make this right.”

It’s making her head throb, this feeling closing in around her; being surrounded by her familiar floral perfume, being talked to as if she were young and foolish, as if she has no idea what is good for her. She feels herself getting smaller and smaller until she's barely there at all, her voice barely heard. Pitiful. They never say as much, but that's what they must think of her. Pitiful and silly. A child again.

She hadn't even realized how real she has been feeling these days until she finds herself back in this sad little grey box where all she can do is sit and be rescued and planned for. Planned around. She feels the scattered beginnings of her own indignation wilting like unwatered flowers, greying, quieting. The words cowering in her throat. She can feel herself folding as she always has, as she's been taught, to stern women who know better.

She mustn't. Curling her fingers, she grasps Madam Jin’s hand back, willing her to hear and believe her because the story she seems to have written inside her own head sounds too awful to bear. “No...no, Jin-furen, you must understand--I chose him, I agreed, I’m--I’m--”

“Oh, child, I’m not blaming you, there is no way you could have known.”

How many times can she say no and have it fall like insignificant little drops onto a blazing inferno? How many times can it not matter before it’s no use to even speak at all? Trapped between her traitorous, cowardly tongue and the force of nature that is Madam Jin. She tries again anyway. “No, he’s wonderful, he takes care of me--”

But Madam Jin’s eyes have fallen to her wrist and a swell of rage-filled-power rises from her like simmering heat. “Is that what this is?” she hisses, and for all that she looks about to spit sparks, her hands are careful when she cradles Yanli’s hand and pushing her sleeve back to bare the faint bloom of muddy purple that rings the thin skin of her wrist.

The wrist that A-Yao had caught when she had lost her balance during their dance.

She hadn’t even noticed it bruising--it hadn’t hurt, it hadn’t. Her skin has just always been easily bruised, ever since she was a child. The panic is climbing her throat at the way this all seems to be hurtling down a cliffside with the trajectory of a bag of rocks, squeezing it almost as tight as her chest and she has to fight the urge to snatch her wrist back. “Furen, no, he didn’t hurt me--I tripped.”

He Si is frozen, one of Yanli’s gauzy over robes squeezed in shaking hands. Her eyes are darting between them, the ends of her pink ribbons quivering.

Madam Jin is bristling, the ozone tang of her rage on Yanli’s tongue, vibrating her skull like the tongue of a bell. “This is a handprint! A-Li, look at yourself! Look at what he’s done to you! You look like you’re on the verge of death!”

“I’m not, I’m--it’s my own fault, I drank too much yesterday, I pushed myself too hard!” she cries because she knows how she looks when she’s sick and hungover, but it is not her husband’s fault. “He would never--”

But no. Madam Jin’s eyes have darkened to thunderous “Absolutely none of this is your fault, A-Li, do you hear me? None of it.”

“It was an accident! He didn’t mean to--”

“You think no woman has ever thought that of a husband? That she has never blamed herself? There is no such thing as a decent man, A-Li--no less one that’s a bastard whoreson.”

It rings in her ears. Stealing the breath from her parted lips, winding her more utterly than her rage had. A knife in the ribs, clenched in her insides. If these words hurt A-Yao half as badly as this hurts now, Yanli has no idea how he is still living after all these years. They are horrid. As if he is not human. She should have felt angry; instead, she’s just betrayed.

I didn’t know you were like this.

She stares at the contempt for her husband coloring her auntie’s familiar and beloved face, unable to find the words she needs. Madam Jin softens, the press of her power abating as she strokes her hair. It raises ugly goosebumps down the back of her neck, this touch. She hates the way she is crowded close, stroking and coaxing and soothing--hates it in a way she never has before.

“You've always been so filial but there is no way your mother would have allowed this to happen if she were still alive. She would have never wanted this for you, A-Li, you know that.”

More pain. Swimming, nauseating pain because, yes, she knows--her mother would have said such terrible things about her A-Yao. Out of concern and propriety and love but they would have been vicious, just like when she had talked about A-Xian. Worse, even. She’s hearing their echoes now, through time, from Madam Jin, of one mind and memory.

If her mother was still alive, A-Yao would not be her husband. She knows this for a fact.

Madam Jin seems to take her struggling silence as encouragement and continues with new insistence, like she thinks she’s getting through to her.

“And this is not what I would ever want for you either, child, whether you decide to marry my idiot of a son or not. I love you like my own daughter, and you deserve so much more than gutter trash. You don’t have to force yourself to suffer through--”

Sudden, molten rage spurts up from Yanli’s stomach up her spine and to her head until she feels incandescent with it. “He is not trash,” escapes her, low and trembling. Her hands are balled into fists in her lap, despite Madam Jin’s gentle hand around her wrist.

Pity floods Madam Jin’s face. Yanli could scream. “Shh, shhh, shhh, A-Li, it’s alright. Oh, you never could say a cross word about anyone. He can’t hear you. Neither can your brother or that awful Wei Ying. It’s just us. You don’t have to be brave anymore.”

Her pulse is throbbing in her head, her chest, the tips of her fingers, the soles of her feet. “I’m not. A-Yao is kind, he is good, he is--”

“Oh, A-Li, please, don’t you see what Guangshan was doing? It was an insult, him being sent here. He sent you this--this beast instead of taking you in and giving you the protection you deserve and that idiot of a brother of yours accepted and I will never forgive them for it. You were supposed to be--”

A-Yao, Xianxian, and now A-Cheng. No. No more. She will take no more. “Jin-furen,” she says, slowly, staring at the white hills of her clenched knuckles. “Please don’t talk about my husband that way.”

Madam Jin insists, “You don’t want someone like this in your line--he’s probably diseased! Think of your Clan! Think of the children! Your mother tolerated Wei Ying because of his parentage, but she would draw the line at--”

“Jin-furen,” she says, her voice ringing now, raising up her gaze to stare into the woman’s startled eyes. “Please do not ever talk about my husband that way. Or my family.”

Finally, Madam Jin falls into intent silence, watching her from dark circled eyes. As if she’s trying to find a way around her words. Find out how she’s lying or hiding or being bullied into this.

And it makes Yanli burn.

“I love him,” she says with a conviction that sings down through her chest like the Jiang clarity bell that is laid out carefully on the edge of her makeup table, waiting to be worn. Shining.

Because she had been wondering before and is certain now. Because there is no fear or doubt when she says it, because it is as easy as breathing and feels just as true--she loves him, not just because he needs it and deserves it but because he is hers and she is his. And she’s so angry that it’s Madam Jin and not A-Yao who is the first to hear it.

Madam Jin lets out a disbelieving sound through her nose, eyes pitying again. “Oh, A-Li, this isn’t love. Not with someone like him.”

He has never made me feel as small as you are now. And I don’t need to convince you.

Yanli stands, though her head swims and her knees buckle, vision sparkling at the edges with fury and vertigo. Madam Jin also stands, grasping Yanli’s elbows with worry crowding her face when she sways. “Child--”

“Jin-furen, I think you have misunderstood what is going on here. I’m not leaving.” She looks to He Si, who is still by the trunk, watching with huge eyes. “Please put those back.” The maid slowly opens the wardrobe back up without looking away.

“A-Li, be reasonable.” Madam Jin sounds alarmed. “Is it because you are with child? Is that why you’re being so--?”

“I am not.” It is none of her business whether or not they have indulged in their marriage bed or if they ever will. It is absolutely no one’s business at all. This current is coursing through her like a clear river--higher than rage, higher than panic, brighter than the sun. It is fast and her ears ring and she feels flushed and close to collapse but she is finished with this entire conversation. She is the Lady of the Jiang. She is one of Lotus Pier’s hosts. This is her room. She turns her gaze back to Madam Jin, sees her distress and can’t find it in herself to feel guilt. “I thank you for your concern, Jin-furen. But this is a Clan matter.” She keeps her voice chill and polite.

“A-Li, you’re being too kind for your own good.”

“Thank you, furen. I’m not.”

“I’m not going to let you do this to yourself!”

Yanli straightens her spine, lifts her chin, and says with the most arctic voice she can manage without being blatantly rude, “On the contrary, Jin-furen, it is already done. And I have never been so happy.” Before Madam Jin can respond, she continues. “You must be tired from your trip. We will find you a room so that you can recover for your departure tomorrow.”

Madam Jin is standing stiff, staring at her with ill concealed frustration and concern. Then, she announces to the room, “It has been years since I’ve visited Lotus Pier. I will stay a while and make certain that Ziyuan-jie’s home and family are being cared for properly.” Her gaze never leaves Yanli’s face. She looks as though she is planning a kidnapping behind her eyes.

Yanli cannot make her leave; this fury would only go so far when her body is already about to fail and when being obedient and filial were the quenchants of her forging. Madam Jin is her elder and the wife of an allied Sect Leader. And so she merely gives a jerky curtsy and glances aside at He Si. The girl nods and bows, gesturing past herself to the door with a nervous smile. “This way, furen?”

Madam Jin sweeps out and down the hall with stung dignity, head held high. Yanli manages to totter over to the doors on shaky legs to close them, but ends up leaning on one to catch her speeding breath. Her entire face is buzzing, sweat beading at her hairline. There are 2 lotus petals still stirring in the eddies from Madam Jin’s wake in the corridor, their delicate little curves swirling like boats in a breeze. The little things her own auntie had said kept washing over her; the way she had assumed Yanli’s hypothetical pregnancy would have been a problem she had the right to ‘take care of’; the immediate and easy dismissal of Yanli’s truth; insulting her brothers. She feels like throwing up.

The only person she had spoken highly of was who she thinks Yanli is. And within those confines, Yanli finds herself twisting. She has always wanted to be good, to be loved. But not like this, some poor doll in need of a rescue. Not as some prize that had been gifted to the 'wrong man' when all that made her good and whole were her people.

Her people. Madam Jin has just shown herself to no longer be trustworthy enough to be one of them. The severing leaves her watery kneed, but fierce in her conviction. She has lost nearly everything, before. She will never allow herself to even come close again. It is a small price.

“Shijie?”

At Xianxian’s voice, she looks up, finds him striding down the hall, face creased in worry. She manages a weak smile and reaches out when he comes near enough, letting herself lean heavily into his arms with a gust of breath. “Xianxian. I’m alright, I’m just...need to sit down.” Things are wavering, as if they’re underwater, her head pulsing with pain.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Are you sure?” he asks, alarmed as he dabs at her face with his sleeve, bearing her weight as she shuffles back toward her chair. “You look like you’re going to pass out. Here, over here, sit. Was it dinner last night? You don’t usually drink.”

She does sit, more heavily than she would have liked, and closes her eyes as he takes one of her fans from her drawer and crouches before her, wafting cooler air over her face. After a moment to catch her breath, she looks at him and gives a small smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with A-Yao?”

He reaches up with his other sleeve to gently blot her forehead again. “We got back a while ago. Yao-ge told me to find you because you were upset. Did I just pass the reason in the hall? Shall I go chase her out for you?” He gave her his impish smirk, the one that makes her laugh. But she hears the weight of the offer behind the joking.

As gratifying as that might be to her right at this moment, with this indignant anger still gushing through her, she knows better than to let herself get swept up in petty revenge. And she knows A-Xian’s temper. Better not tell him at all how much Madam Jin had upset her. She shakes her head and takes his free hand, holding it in her lap like an anchor as her heart slowly calms. “No...no, I’ll take care of it.” She simply breathes for a moment as she settles back, then pets his cheek when she sees him eyeing her doubtfully.

“Shijieeee,” he whines. “How can I help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong? How can you leave Xianxian in the dark?”

There is no need for anyone else to know the vile things Madam Jin had said. She will get better at this, hammering herself into a shield for them--for all of them. “It’s nothing worth repeating, nosy Xianxian.” As she speaks, she pokes his nose gently and he scrunches it up.

“Was it about Yao-gege?”

He knows her too well. She sighs. “It was.”

It’s beginning to dawn on her how blind she has been to A-Yao’s plight. The way no one from the Jin had so much as written to him in the month or so that they have been married, as far as she knew. The way Jin Guangshan had talked around him during the arrangement of their engagement, as if barely worth mentioning. And now Madam Jin had surely never shown him any kindness, if they had ever met. No mother, and his father’s family disdainful, shoving him out as soon as they gained him.

And so who in the world has A-Yao had to stand with him? No one? No one at all? Where are his sworn brothers, Chifeng-zun and Zewu-jun? Where is Nie Huaisang, if they had been so close, as A-Cheng had claimed? The very thought has her stomach rolling. This is unacceptable. She is going to fix this.

“A-Xian, we’re a family,” she says, fiercely, leaning forward to take his face in her hands. “You, A-Cheng, A-Yao, and I. We are never going to be parted from each other. We’re all we have left in the world. We have to be there for each other.”

He blinks, fan freezing. Then he nods, slowly. “Sure, Shijie. Of course. Always.”

“I’m not ever going to let anyone hurt you.”

His smile flicks on. “Wow, whatever Jin-furen said really got you upset--you sure you don’t want me to kick her out for you? I’ll do it, you know, no problem. You know how I feel about upstart Jin’s annoying you.”

His familiar teasing eases her stinging soul until she smiles again, brushing back one of the wisps of hair that frames his face. “I know. But no. Just...just be kind to A-Yao around her. Be respectful.”

“I’m always respectful!”

Tugging his hair, she says, “Of course, of course, that’s why he was afraid you were going to try to push him in the lake.” When he ducks his head with a sneaking grin, she plucks the fan from his fingers and bops his head with it. “I need you to get my letter writing set for me, can you do that?”

He rises, rubbing the spot as if it had hurt--but he eyes her dubiously. “Shouldn’t you sleep, Shijie? Get some food? I can make you soup!”

Her head was indeed still swirling and pounding, and at the mention of food, it twinges--though she’s not certain if it is with hunger or further nausea. So she shakes her head mournfully, sweeping the fan slowly beneath her chin. “I don’t think my stomach could take the spice of your cooking right now, Xianxian. But I would love it if you brought me some tea when you come back.”

And because he is wonderful he does, a pot of chrysanthemum tea that has clearly been chilled by one of his talismans, because it still tastes fresh, fully steeped, and delightfully cool. He also has added a bowl of lotuses floating in water on the tray he sets before her, presumably from his adventure.

“Did you have fun ‘playing’ with A-Yao?” she asks as she unloads the tray onto her desk.

“Oh that,” he rolls his eyes performatively, collapsing on his back onto her bed. “Yeah, we talked a bit, picked those. But he wouldn’t get in the water, even though it was ridiculously hot. Really, Shijie, your husband has no idea how to play!”

“Well,” she smooths the paper out before her with the slim bars of boxwood, carved in relief with cranes and bamboo--another present from A-Yao. “Then you will just have to be patient and teach him how.”

And she begins to write. Xianxian doesn’t last longer than halfway through her first letter before becoming bored and wandering back out with a cursory, “Call me if you need me, Shijie!” Condensation slowly beads on the teapot and cup beside her, and the water of the lotus bowl sparks amber in the sinking sun through her windows. Even though she has only been conscious a scant few hours of the day, she feels exhaustion through every ounce of her body and brain, sleep calling her back to her bed. But she fights it, lights the lantern on her desk, and keeps writing.

Just as she’s finishing the last letter, the door opens. She brightens and turns, mouth open to greet A-Yao--but it’s He Si, slinking in the door, looking shamefaced. “Furen.”

“Oh, A-Si. How did it go?”

Strangely, the girl's eyes well with tears and she falls to her knees. “Furen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do, I panicked, I just--!”

The edge to her voice is sending spikes of pain through the backs of Yanli’s eyes and she winces, putting a hand to her temple. He Si sees and claps a hand over her mouth, eyes huge. “A-Si, it’s fine, truly. I felt badly having left you with her when she was bound to be upset. Are you alright?”

Giving a watery nod, she clambers back up to her feet, wiping at her eyes. “Yes, furen. She just wanted me gone, so I went and organized the reception of her luggage and maids that came later. I meant to be back sooner,” she adds miserably as she begins to unload the abandoned trunk. “Everything the Jin do is so complicated. Is there anything you need? Something I can get you? Medicine?”

“I’m going back to sleep soon, so maybe something for pain, please. When you’re done, you can take these letters to be delivered and...well….” She adds, shyly. “Maybe my husband? I thought you were him, coming in. I thought...he would have returned by now.”

The maid pauses in her hanging of a lavender robe and thinks. “I believe I saw him in his office working as I was coming back. Should I go get him?”

“Oh, no, if he’s busy, I can wait. I was just...I miss him.”

Timidly, He Si offers her a smile. “If I may...you were so brave today, furen. I never would have been able to talk back to Jin-furen like that. Defending your husband’s name….” She sighs, eyes dreamy. “It was so romantic.”

Yanli hides a smile behind her sleeve. “Ah, well....thank you, A-Si. I don’t think you need to be told that what was said in here is not to be spread to anyone else.”

In response, He Si pretends to close a padlock at the corner of her lips and mimes throwing the key over her shoulder. “Not a word, furen.”

The girl had proved herself to be discrete in her service so far. And so a corner of her heart feels placated. But something is starting to tug from the back of her mind, like she has forgotten something or overlooked it. It niggles there, like a fretful worm, even as He Si finishes returning all her displaced clothing and spirits the letters off. It starts to seep in when she strokes down the smooth lotus petals idly with her finger. A-Xian had said that A-Yao had sent him because she was upset. How had he known? And shouldn’t he have visited her before now, since he had been so worried?

Lotus petals...there had been lotus petals just like these on the floor outside of her room. It was not unheard of, on some windy days, but these had been fresh, as fresh as these very flowers on her desk....Oh. Oh no. Worry clutches her stomach in its sick claws and she hides her face in her hands with a low groan. Her stupid, slow mind. She had just said she would fix A-Yao’s loneliness but then had left him to it without knowing. How much had he heard? Or how little? He Si hadn’t mentioned seeing him in the hall when she left with Madam Jin--had he gone before her declaration? Had he only heard her half hearted attempts of defending before she got her proverbial feet underneath her? Just her horrible, stunned silence?

No wonder he isn’t here with his poor, tender heart. It might just be crushed in his chest with how poorly she had managed to defend him. She hastily tucks her feet into slippers and totters out.

The walk to his office is thankfully fairly short, if dizzying. Two passing servants hurry to support her elbows when they see her hesitating at the courtyard entrance, where there are no more walls to support her. She releases them just outside his door, where she can peer around the crack. At this, she scolds herself for being so childish and cowardly--but she needs to know how to approach. A-Yao is slippery when he’s hurting and she wants him to actually hear what she has to say.

In the warm lantern light of his office, he is stoic and straight backed, reading something on the desk while he himself is unreadable. His eyes are dark, his mouth a straight line. Hidden tension. He doesn’t look shattered and betrayed. But then, he never does. If he has truly heard all that she thinks he has, she would have almost (almost) preferred to find him bereft, to fully see the depth of what sort of devastation had been brought to her love so she can soothe it all. She knocks uncertainly, sees him raise his head, face unchanging. “Come in.”

When she opens the door, he smiles--and for a moment, hope pokes its little head up. Maybe he hadn’t been there at all, maybe she’s mistaken and he had been protected from Madam Jin’s vitriol.

But no. That smile is empty, just like his eyes. There is no warmth, no blooming before her as there has been. He is hiding. He opens his mouth to say something, but she blurts out first, “I’m so sorry, A-Yao.”

He blinks, closes his mouth and settles back, as if curious. “Whatever for?”

“For what you heard.”

That smile twitches at the corner, briefly and she can almost see him weighing the option of pretending, of asking what she means. Instead, the smile widens into dimples and he shakes his head, as if rueful. “I’m the one who should apologize. I never meant to eavesdrop, I was returning after my outing with Wei Wuxian and I happened to have abysmal timing. I promise that I don’t make a habit of listening outside of doors, I would hate for you to think that of me--”

Her heart aches. “A-Yao--”

Doggedly, he continues, smile unwavering. “How are you feeling? I’m surprised to see you up, you said you would sleep most of the day.”

“I did, I just...I had to come and see you.”

“Do you need anything? I can send someone to stand watch by your door all night in case you do. You would only have to call them in.”

That made it sound like he wasn’t planning to come to bed at all. This morning he had to be pushed to leave her side. Is he mistrusting her? Does he think he is unwanted? Is he isolating himself? “No, A-Si is bringing me something that will help me sleep. A-Yao, I need to know, are you alright?”

“Perfectly. Do we know how long we will be accommodating Jin-furen?”

“I...no, hopefully it’s not very long.”

“I shall have to tell the kitchens to make some Lanling delicacies, then.”

“A-Yao…” Her declaration is laying on her tongue, heavy, wanting to be given to him like a treasure. But she sees his shiny eyes and his shiny smile and the way he is doing his deft little flicks of conversation away from himself. Knows that he would probably take it as pity or placation and not truth. He will not believe that she loves him if she tells him now. “How much did you hear?”

“I feel terrible even mentioning it, Jiang-furen, it was a lapse in judgement.”

A pang in her chest, right where the knowledge of love had tolled earlier and even though it is still almost stiflingly warm, even after sun down, she suddenly feels very cold and alone. “Don’t,” she says, softly. She manages to kneel before his desk (he had tensed to rise, to help her, she had seen it) and takes one of his hands where they are placed just so on the desk before him. “Don’t leave.”

He blinks, some of that shell shifting in surprise. “I would never.”

“Don’t pull back like that. Please. I’m A-Li.” She lifts his hand, puts his palm to her cheek. “I’m not Jiang-furen. You know that.”

He is quiet, face...held. Held on, held together. Considering. “A-Li,” he repeats her, not quite a question, not quite a confirmation. His fingertips shift, flexing slightly against her cheek, his thumb gentle at the corner of her eye.

“Yes. A-Li. I want...I want to know how much you heard so I can know how much to explain, I….”

Something flickers in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain,” he says, voice low. “I shouldn’t have listened. It was a private conversation.”

“That’s not at all what I’m worried about.”

“...Then what are you worried about?”

“I...that you have been hurt. That you feel like you somehow need to stay away from me. Because you don’t and--and I don’t want you to.”

He is silent, dark eyes completely opaque in the glow of the lantern light. But his mouth has thinned. Has she struck something? Yanli grasps at this like someone drowning. “A-Yao, what she said was horrible and she is wrong. I don’t agree with a single word. You’re not...I can’t even repeat what she said, but you’re not any of those things. And I never--I never meant to be silent, I just….I’m not good with words and when I’m tired like this...I get...foggy.” Her tongue feels slippery and out of control, like she’s trying to shove the words out as quickly as she can, to get them into this sliver that has opened in him before it closes again. “I don’t know when you left. Did you hear me say that I’ve never been so happy? Did you hear that--” It’s sliding around her mouth, bumping her teeth because she wants him to have it, to be able to hold it. “I said I love you. I love you, A-Yao.” It spills.

And he freezes.

And she knows it’s a mistake.

He smiles with dimples. Closes. Whatever part of him had been listening and believing her was gone, retreating entirely. He turns his hand from her cheek, drawing hers down to the table to squeeze and release. “It’s alright, A-Li. I’m not upset. You don’t have to do that.”

Lie, lie, and lie. “A-Yao, I mean it,” she whispers desperately around the lump in her throat, her fingers in an artless tangle across whatever missives he was reading. “I do.”

His smile widens and his eyes do not join it, over bright and frozen. He swallows and says nothing. Tears crowd her eyes, hot, blurring. She swipes uselessly at them with her sleeve. It’s not that she’s hurt by his reaction. She doesn’t blame him at all. It’s not that she thinks he doesn’t care for her. It’s not rejection, they have both come too far and shared too much for her to believe that, even if she might feel its blade.

It’s just that it’s so much at once; having a horrible pain day and Madam Jin and A-Yao hurt and she can’t take it back and give it to him at the right time and she’s so tired. She had first said it in anger, and now desperation. This isn’t at all what she had wanted.

She’s doing it again. Never enough at the right time to protect those she loves. Never able to voice what was needed. She should have been able to prevent this. His hands are fists in his lap and his lips have whitened, smile now a sick thing that isn’t even trying to be convincing as he stares at the table. “A-Li--” he says in a croak and she has to save him, he has been hurt too much for today.

So she talks over him, trying to school her breath not to catch. “D-do you think you’ll be coming to bed tonight?”

“I have...work.”

Nodding, she begins to push herself up to her feet with great difficulty, now that her legs are pins and water. He’s up in an instant beside her, looking concerned, but the way that he hesitates before touching her breaks her heart--so she reaches out and takes his hand. It’s a moment before she steadies, leaning against his chest and it strikes her again just how nice and warm he smells. She wishes he would come and let her snuggle up to him to sleep. She wishes he had never heard such horrible things.

Does she beg him to stay? Or does she let him come in his own time?

“Will you walk me back?” Yanli asks in a small voice. “I don’t think I can make it on my own...my knees….”

“...Of course.”

The walk back to her room is just as slow as the walk from it. Yanli wishes that it was anything like the lovely drunken stroll they had had the night before--when she had laughed at the stars and basked in his affection. He’s closed up tight, now, and she doesn’t know if she will ever be able to pry him out of his shell again. She has to believe that she can. That his fragile trust wasn’t irreparably broken. All she can do is stand with open arms and hope he knows it’s safe to return to them.

He supports her to their bed and helps her sit. And he pauses, gaze flicking from her eyes to her lips, and for a breathless, hopeful moment, she waits. And then he bows--not a full salute, but an inclining of his head, his hands fisted in his robes. “Goodnight, A-Li.”

Her heart drops down into mush. “Goodnight, A-Yao.”

She will not push him before he’s ready. She can wait until he trusts her words again and she will tell him as many times as he needs. They have time.

They have time.

“A-Yao?”

He pauses at the door, head turning until she can see a sliver of his profile, still and closed.

“Don’t push yourself too hard. I’ll miss you.”

His fingers scrunch up in his dark blue sleeve, the corners of his lip pulling down. But he ducks his head wordlessly and disappears around the doorframe.

Luckily, He Si returns with her pain medicine only minutes after A-Yao has left, because her legs and head are throbbing. Luckier still that the girl seems to have the good sense to not ask why she’s desperately and unsuccessfully stifling tears.

#IT IS COMPLETE #Trauma trauma everywhere and not a healthy coping mechanism in sight #Things were rolling along so smoothly up until now too #peony to lotus #my stuff #my fic #yaoli #Yanli: oh no this person's actions are as good as my fault because I didn't know how to stop them and they hurt my loved ones :(((#JGY: :) [mouth closed screaming]#Also this fic WILL go back to fluffier pastures with some emotional h/c pretty soon--I'm not about wallowing in misunderstanding #They each have trauma and unhealthy tendencies to work out but it's not going to be an agonizingly long time promise

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d00m-d4ys · 3 years

Text

Disclaimer: i know this could be better (quality-of-story-wise) but it could also be a whole lot worse, so imo that absolves me of both editing and basic grammatical discipline. Please enjoy the latest instalment of my ‘the subplot of jiang fengmian possibly cheating on his wife was boring; yu ziyuan and cangse sanren should have been besties’ agenda.

Curfew is one of the many rules that chafe, and so she disregards it as often as she can. As undignified as it is to scales the walls of Cloud Recesses, she seethes, it could all be avoided if she was allowed spar with Zidian and teach the second heir of Lan not to look down his nose at her.

This moon is high by the time she returns, and she nearly topples to the ground as a voice calls, “Don’t fall.”

She steadies herself, telling her racing heart to calm itself. She looks to her left and sees the girl: a rogue cultivator, hair diligently unkempt and at odds with her pressed student’s robes.

“Don’t concern yourself with me,” she tells her sternly.

Cangse Sanren sits up, eyes wide. “I wasn’t concerned! Merely speaking aloud. Ignore me, honoured Violet Spider.”

“You mock me?” Zidian crackles in her hands.

“But of course. Jiangs fight best when they’re angry.” She comes to her feet like a puppet tugged along by its strings, lighter than air and undeniably coordinated.

Zidian hisses louder. “I am not Jiang, you insolent—“

Cangse Sanren moves almost too fast to track, and Ziyuan strikes on reflex, Zidian splitting a layer of roofing in half as Cangse dodges back, landing safely out of reach on top of the guard tower. She whistles, long and low. “So this is Zidian. Why do you hide her away?”

She curls her fingers around her ring protectively, unsure of what the girl means to do.

“Is that why? Afraid someone will steal it?” Cangse lights back down on the roof, confident in a way that Ziyuan hates, but not enough to risk using Zidian again. “I’m sorry for insulting you. What are you, if not a Jiang?”

The question catches her off-guard, and she answers before she can think better of it. “This one is Yu Ziyuan.”

“Yu Ziyuan, Yu Ziyuan— I can’t promise I’ll remember, but I’ll do my best.” She bows, again catching her by surprise. “This one is Cangse Sanren.”

She swallows. “I know.”

Cangse straightens up and grins at her, tucking her sword into the crook of her elbow. “I think we’ll be friends. Yes?”

She’s about to answer when the roofing beneath her feet turns slick as ice, sending her plummeting to the ground. Cangse lands mostly on top of her with her many bony appendages, and for a moment all Ziyuan can do is sit there and quietly groan.

It’s probably not a good sign that the clan leader himself had caught them sparring out of grounds and after curfew, but at least she isn’t alone.

After that, it was quite obvious that Cangse would continue to be a permanent pest.

“A-Yuan,” she begs, already reaching for Ziyuan’s bowl. “Cangse is so hungry, how can A-Yuan be so cruel?”

“Eat your own damn food,” she snaps, and learns not to regret it. Cangse sighs and returns to her own bowl, identical to hers excepting the absence of bamboo shoots.

Cangse seems to attract trouble: she can see across the room Jiang Fengmian making a beeline for her table, followed shortly after by a disciple whose name escapes her.

The usual niceties are as excruciating as always, and they find themselves seated across the table. Cangse drops her chopsticks and slams her hands down, earning them several dirty looks. “Young Master, I must know your name.”

There is a moment where Ziyuan can see disaster blooming. Both men look delighted at the attention, and both move to answer her question.

She dumps her bamboo shoots in Jiang Fengmian’s bowl, interrupting his train of thought and drawing his attention to her.

It’s a risky gamble: the bamboo shoots are inarguably the best thing in a Lan’s diet, and she doesn’t want to invite implication into her actions, but something so grand and distracting and (hopefully) confusing is enough to render him speechless.

Unfortunately, it also draws Cangse’s ire, though the servant — Wei Changze — is blissfully unaware of her blunders, still basking under Cangse’s attention.

Jiang Fengmian colours a bright pink that she privately thinks is very becoming, and she can only hope that his interest in Cangse is only infatuation. “Thank you, Lady Yu.”

The Jin arrive, finally, and so too does her friend from across the river. Hua Yufei is just as ladylike as she remembers, but her immediate taking-to of Cangse Sanren is concerning, to say the least.

“Is it difficult, being a rogue cultivator?”

“Perhaps it is, when comfort is a concern. I have often slept outdoors on nighthunts, when no inn would have me.”

Yufei shudders. “I could never,” she swears, hand daintily resting on her collarbone. “Ziyuan, did you hear the news, or shall I tell you?”

“What news?”

“Sect Leader Jin is in want of a match for his son. I have it on good authority that I am in the running, and that Jin Guangshan favours me.”

Her mother had sent word that her own marriage now had a wedding date, and it filled her with equal parts dread and relief.

Cangse bumps her shoulder, jolting her out of her daydreams. “Congratulate your sworn-sister, A-Yuan, for I have no earthly idea what any of you are talking about.”

Yufei gets far more excited than she should, and hurries to sit next to Cangse. “See that one there? The Jin with peonies on his sleeve? He is Jin Guangshan. If I am to marry him, I’ll be Madame of the second-richest sect in Xianxia.”

Cangse looks critically at him and evidently turns up little to compliment, to Ziyuan’s vindication. “He seems very . . . friendly.”

It’s a very kind way of noting his lecherous staring at the servant pouring his tea. “He will not give up his ways under marriage, Yufei.”

“What do I care if he galavants through every brothel in Lanling? I need only bear a son, and my wifely duties will be complete. I will have Koi Tower, and he shall have his fleeting pleasures. Let others take care of him.”

The lectures end, somewhat successfully: Lan Qiren’s facial hair had suffered Cangse’s vengeance, Hua Yufei had secured a tentative proposal from Jin Guangshan, and Jiang Fengmian no longer looked scared of her when she spoke to him.

Yufei hugs her tightly before dashing after the Jin delegation. Cangse stands by her as the Jiang sect prepares to leave, disiciples running about accomplishing what they should have several hours beforehand. “Is Yunmeng your home?”

“For now.” Her betrothal was entering into its vital stages, and it wouldn’t do to return to Meishan just yet. “And yours?”

She lifts one shoulder, staring out over the bustling Jiangs. “Wherever I’m needed.”

Ziyuan spots Wei Changze trying to look as though he’s not watching Cangse Sanren, fiddling with something in his hands. If they’re not careful, the Jiang sect will lose two fine cultivators. “Then you should come with us.”

Yu Ziyuan knows that something is wrong. She knows it as well as she knows that her daughter is six, that her son is three, that she has not seen her ill-gotten sworn-sister since before either of them were born.

She leaves without a word, away on her sword and letting her heart guide her.

The last of her steady letters had come from Yiling, paper smelling faintly of sulphur from the Burial Mounds. So west she steers herself, flying hard through the gathering storm and buffeting winds until she hears Cangse calling for her husband. She descends hard and almost falls, Zidian flaring out and cracking against the encroaching fierce corpses. Two fall back, weak enough to be banished, but four more advance in their place, and she seizes her sword for the task of disposing of them.

Cangse does not struggle with fierce corpses. She has a way with them, tames them like dogs under her immortal’s teachings. Ziyuan is almost afraid to turn around, sheathing her sword and searching the gloom and thicket for a trace of teal robes, a beaded jade hairpiece.

“A-Ze!”

Her voice is near. She can hear two sets of footprints, one surer, the other more cautious.

Something was wrong with this forest, if it had separated Cangse and Wei Changze. She feels as though she might crawl out of her skin, the resentful energy mounting with each second she remained. She rushes through thicket and brush, forcing her way through layers of the maze array with sheer force of will, far too angry to be waylaid by such child’s play.

The final layer stretches like rice cake before snapping, and it felt as though a layer of wet cotton had been ripped from her ears, the sounds of the world coming into sharp focus with painful suddenness.

Cangse is there to catch her, though she seems disoriented. “A-Yuan?”

Her voice shakes, and she hates it. “We have to leave.”

Cangse’s mouth sets. “Not without A-Ze.”

The maze array changes even as they speak, and Cangse is too dizzy to do anything but slow them down and ensure they remain trapped. She feels her mouth twist grimly as she wraps her hand around her wrist, dragging her to the edge of the array. “I will find him.”

She doesn’t regret finding Cangse first. How could she, for her own sworn-sister? She refuses to regret. She will not regret.

It’s difficult to muster that conviction when she lays Wei Changze’s body down on the ground, overtaken by the hole in his chest where his heart once was.

Cangse wails when she sees him, a keening, heartbroken sound Ziyuan has never heard a person make. The sound is pure pain, and for a moment all she can do is stand there and think about how devestated Jiang Fengmian will be, when he hears the news.

She kneels, wanting to at least close his eyes. Cangse’s wails abruptly peter off and she screams, “Get away from him!”

The suddenness of it startles her away, and Cangse throws herself over his body, protecting him. “Don’t touch him. I won’t let him be sullied by such hands.”

“Such hands?” Already, she is angry. “Say your meaning.”

“You always hated him,” she accuses. “You could have saved him. Why didn’t you save him?” She touched his cheeks, crying over his glossy, dead eyes. “Why didn’t you help him first?”

“And risk the same happening to you?” She doesn’t regret. She doesn’t.

“You should have! He’s the one who should live. It shouldn’t be me.”

She stands, too angry to say anything constructive at the moment. “Wei Ying will be in Yunmeng, while you grieve.”

She’ll never be sure if Cangse Sanren would have heard anything of the living world in that moment, her ear pressed to a dead man’s chest.

Jiang Fengmian is in his office, and she lets herself in. “Wei Changze is dead.”

The news is sudden, and horrible, and Fengmian spends a good few minutes unable to speak. “What happened?”

She meets his watery gaze. “A nighthunt. He was overpowered.”

“And Cangse?” He licks his lips. “Is she—“

“You are aware they have a child?” She feels so very angry, and it is easy to blame it on his apparently poor memory, instead of its true source. “You do know that? Or have you only read their letters to trace Cangse’s calligraphy? Are you so eager that you forget your duty?”

He has the decency to look ashamed, but not enough to muster a response.

She scoffed and left the room, making her way to her children’s’ quarters.

Cangse Sanren arrives just as Ziyuan’s lies to her son began to wear thin.

She lands softly in the training grounds, leaving stunned and gaping disciples in her wake. She strides to wear Ziyuan stands, supervising Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying as they spar.

“I want my son back.”

Ziyuan lifts her chin, crossing her arms. It hides her anxiety: Cangse is dressed in mourning white, and her eyes are sunken with lack of sleep. She is much paler than she used to be, and much angrier.

Cangse scowls at her, at her silence. “Wei Ying. Come here.”

Wei Ying looks up with a gleeful cry, and rushes to embrace his mother. For a moment, Cangse is her old self again, swinging him into her arms and kissing him on the cheek.

But it soon fades, and Cangse Sanren fixes her with a steely glare and utters perhaps the last words Yu Ziyuan will ever forget:

“Until we meet again, Madame Jiang.”

#mdzs fic #mdzs #yu ziyuan #cangse sanren #exerpt from something i might write someday #i deleted the first iteration of this post on accodent so #hua yufei is the name i gave madame jin #i googled it and someone else also has that name so either i picked a good one or someones parents are also bad at naming. cool either way

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tendiyu · 4 years

Text

A Show

giyu tomioka x fem!reader

CEO AU

warnings: daddy kink, overstim, edging, degradation, slight public scene, penetration, pwp, smut!

The way the two of you had met was odd, you worked part-time at a maid cafe in Tokyo, and Giyu was the CEO of a famous company. You noticed the quiet man had taken quite the interest in you. He always requested that you would be his waitress, and when he came to the little cafe, they would close down due to his request. You honestly don’t know what ended up leading him to be attracted to you as the class difference between the both of you was insane. You were a college student currently majoring in business, while he was a CEO. You had memorized his favorite order, which is what he usually ordered anyways. What you didn’t know was that today was going to be different from the rest. You went over to his booth, always showing him your best smile, as he tipped well. On certain days you’d walk away with over $400 in tips from him alone.

“Don’t you ever get bored of working here?” He asked while sipping on his drink.

“Well, Master Tomioka I wouldn’t be able to see you if I got sick of working here,” You said unconsciously, blushing when you realized what you said.

You quickly smiled before excusing yourself to the kitchen. You took in a deep breath, regaining your composure before heading back out and sitting across from him, as per his request. You chatted with him, keeping it light and formal. Once he was done you got up, bringing his plates into the kitchen. When you came back he motioned for you to sit back down.

“I have an offer for you, hopefully, one you’d say yes to, would you like to be my sugar baby?” He asked and your eyes widened.

You had never expected him to come to you with such an interesting offer, as that’s the first word that came to mind. You had to think it over and ask questions about it as you couldn’t say yes without knowing what you had to give to him as well.

“Could we talk about this more in-depth after my shift, here I’ll give you my number,” You said and he nodded.

You wrote down your number on a piece of paper handing it to him, and then you got up bowing slightly. You said goodbye and escorted him out of the small maid cafe. The cafe soon opened up normally for business and customers flowed in at an insane rate. You were busy but your mind kept wandering to the offer, on your break you checked your phone to see that Giyuu had messaged you, telling you that it was him. You texted back asking him to explain the deal you two would be making in more detail. He sent you a long text explaining that they would move at a rate that was comfortable for you, which you genuinely appreciated. You told him that you’d agree to it as long as he allowed you to set the pace, you honestly didn’t mind the CEO was an attractive man. Fast forward a few weeks, the agreement worked without a hitch, you’d go on dates with him and he would spoil you immensely. Giyuu had taken you lingerie shopping as you told him you were in desperate need of new pieces, which he quickly agreed to do so. He didn’t need to ask for pictures as he knew you’d send them to him. He bought you such beautiful and intricate pieces although you insisted on simple ones that were cheaper. Today was your day off and you knew he had an important meeting so you decided to take pictures with his favorite set from the day. Over it, you slipped on the oversized sweatshirt that he had left from your movie date night. You took a picture of you in it, the garter belt poking out which held up your stockings. You told him to have a good meeting and that more surprises would come soon, and for him to text you when the meeting was done. Giyuu had bought you a wall-length mirror and paid for the workers to install it as well, as he wanted you to be able to take cute outfit pictures for him. You brought over your pink gaming chair, slipping on the bunny ears he liked, which matched the color of your set which was royal blue. You sat on it and did different poses. You then pushed the chair back to your desk, going on your knees in front of the mirror, and held onto the bow the tied your bra together. You took a few more pictures that you were sure he’d like and then went over to your game doing some of the work you were given today at university. You then opted to play a few rounds of your favorite game, as Giyuu had recently bought you a new set up, it was probably the best one you’ve had to date. Your phone went off and you saw the Giyuu had texted you, he told you that he was now out of his meeting. You selected the pictures you’d knew he like the best and sent them to him. You put your phone down and went to the bathroom. Honestly, you began to notice how much your life had changed when you became his sugar baby, you were living in a better apartment, struggling less and happier. You heard your phone go off and you quickly made your way to your phone. You grabbed it seeing that Giyuu was facetime you. You picked it up smiling and waving, he greeted you but you could see how tired he was which made you sad.

“You look stunning in that set, I’m glad you let me get it for you,” He said softly and you nodded.

“Thank you, are you okay you seem tired? Is there anything I could do for you?” You ask him, only wanting to take care of him as he with you.

“Yeah, is it okay if I swing by after work? I only want to be in your company, I can order some food to your house as well,” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah of course, if you want I can run a bath for you, oh! I can use the um,” You ran into the bathroom looking for the product and showing it to him. “These bath salts are really calming, I use them after a hard shift at the cafe.”

“Sounds amazing, you still have some of my clothes over there right? Also tomorrow, there is a company outing, I was wondering if I could take you with me?” He asked and you nodded.

“Of course, what time is it? Just so that I know if I’ll be making it to work tomorrow,” You asked and he responded with right after your shift.

You had a morning shift that day which you were grateful for, you quickly texted your manager that you had to leave slightly early tomorrow.

“Alright love, I’ll see you when I get there,” He said and you waved goodbye.

You got up and took out two plates and placed them on the island you had in your kitchen. You then went over to the living room hooking your switch to the TV, as you never knew if he was in a mood to play. You also set up Hulu and put the controller down. You then went into your room and rummaged through your drawers looking for some clothes Giyuu had left for times like these. You set them out along with a towel inside the bathroom. Giyuu texted you that he was five minutes away and you began running the water filling up the tub and then pouring the salts in. You didn’t fill it up fully as it could get cold for him, and you would need to fill the tub up with warm water again. You heard a knock and went over checking to see who it was. It was Giyuu with his suit on, you had to admit he looked good. You let him in hugging him tightly and he wrapped his arms around you planting a kiss on your head. You held his hand as you guided him to the bathroom, you then went to turn but he called out to you.

“Do you think you’re comfortable enough to accompany me in the bath?” He asked in a soft manner not wanting to pressure you.

“Oh, is that what you want?” You asked him and he nodded.

“But, it’s fine if you’re not okay with it,” He said and you shook your head.

“No, I’m comfortable enough with you now for this, plus you had a long day at work. The only thing I request is that you close your eyes while I strip,” You told him and he nodded.

You went into your room letting him strip and took off his sweatshirt making sure to leave it on your bed as you wanted to put it on again. You then laid out your underwear and bra along with shorts and thigh-high socks. You took a towel and put it next to the bathroom, and began stripping. It honestly took you a bit longer to take off than put on due to the intricacy of the set. You took it off and wrapped yourself in the towel, making sure to put your hair up in a messy bun but making sure it still looked nice. You went into the bathroom and saw Giyuu already in the tub. You motioned for him to close his eyes which he did and you slipped in across from him.

“You can open your eyes now,” You told him and he did, looking at you with a slight pout.

“Could you maybe come closer?” He asked and you nodded coming closer to him, and he guided your back to his chest.

He hummed softly while rubbing soft circles with his thumb on your shoulder. His touch began to make you needy as you blushed shifting slightly.

“You alright petal?” He asked you and you nodded.

“Yeah sorry if I startled you,” You responded softly and Giyuu wasn’t buying it.

“You know you can tell me if something wrong, right? I would never want you to be uncomfortable with me,” He said softly and you nodded.

“Yeah, I know, Giyuu,” You said softly before closing your eyes.

You felt one hand rubbing circles on your thigh and you began to blush even more. Giyuu took notice of the change in attitude and decided to test the waters a bit. He began to rub circles on your thigh up higher and you felt him lean down.

“Am I making you needy petal?” He asked in a taunting voice.

You nodded your head too embarrassed to even speak.

“Hm, does my good girl want me to do something about it then?” He asked and you nodded again. “Use your words, I know you can.”

“Yes please, please do something Giyuu,” You choked out and you could tell he was smirking.

“No, remember when he fully talked about our agreement what you would call me?” He asked while the tips of his fingers ghosted where you wanted, no needed him the most.

“Please daddy,” You whispered out embarrassed, you could tell he was enjoying every second of this moment.

“Now, where do you want me? What do you want me to do? Come on you can tell daddy can’t you?” He asked and you felt the heat begin to pool between your thighs.

“Down there, I want you to touch me please,” You pleaded softly.

“Alright if that’s what my good girl wants,” He said.

His fingers began to teasingly rub your clit with the other hand worked on playing with your nipple. Your back arched as you let out soft whines, wanting more.

“More please, I want you to fill me up with your fingers daddy,” You whined and he groaned softly.

He slipped his middle finger in and went slowly allowing you to adjust. You began to grind against his fingers which caused him to slip another one in while using his thumb to rub your clit. You felt a coiling sensation in your stomach as you were close but he stopped.

“Come on, beg for it, beg for me to let you cum,” He said in a low tone.

“Please, I’ll do anything you want I promise, just please daddy I need it,” You whined, and that was enough to set Giyuu over the edge.

“I think you’ll be cumming on my cock then, is that alright?” He asked and you nodded desperately.

He picked your hips up adjusting your hips before teasing you with the tip. He made sure to rub it on your clit which made your hips jerk harshly. He then began to slowly enter you and bottomed out, sucking in a harsh breath. You were clenching on him tightly and he began to set a harsh pace, making sure to pay attention to your reactions. You felt him hit a spot and let out a loud moan, covering your mouth in shock.

“Who knew my innocent little maid was such a cock slut huh?” He whispered in your ear which caused you to clench down on him harder. “Oh?”

He continued to abuse your g spot making sure to rub your clit as well as he wanted to focus on your pleasure. He degraded you in your ear which pushed you off the edge and your orgasm hit you like a train. You had tears flowing down your eyes while you whined and whimpered. You continued to whimper the word daddy as well, but Giyuu continued wanting to overstimulate you. When you had finally ridden your high, you felt extremely sensitive. You mewled out softy, which only fed Giyuu’s drive causing him to be harshed with his thrust.

“Taking my cock so well pretty girl, your little cunt was made for my cock wasn’t it?” He said and you nodded feeling your orgasm work itself back up.

Giyuu’s thrusts got sloppier and he gave a few harsh thrusts before you came around him and hard. Your cunt was pulling his cock back in while he tried to slip out. Once he did he pumped his cock a few times cumming, letting out low groans. Giyuu got up wrapping a towel around his waist and then picked you up wrapping you in a towel as well and then carried you outside the bathroom.

“How about I order some food, we slip on a movie or a game you want to play and we just cuddle? You did such a good job for me (y/n), you’re always so good for me baby,” He said softly while putting you down on your bed.

You blushed and nodded, he turned to leave but you grabbed his arm.

“You did really good too, thank you, I really enjoyed that, but um could you help me change?” You asked him and he nodded.

You instructed him to turn as you slipped your bra on and his sweatshirt. You then called him over to help you slip on your underwear, shorts, and thigh-highs blushing the entire time. He then left to go to the bathroom and you got up testing the water, but your thighs were shaking. Luckily, you made your way into the bathroom and knocked, Giyuu giving you permission to enter. You hung up your towel and then waited for him, you both then made your way over to the couch and you put on an anime you both were watching together. You cuddled into him as he orderer food from your favorite restaurant while stroking your hair softly. You found yourself falling asleep to his breathing slumping against him. Giyuu kissed your forehead looking down at you in adoration. Half an hour later he heard someone knocking on the door and went to check, seeing that it was the food you two had ordered. He thanked the young man tipping him and then set the food on the counter waking you up. You stirred awake pouting but soon smiled at the smell of food. You got up waddling to the island and sat down on the stool. Giyuu and you ate while he spoke over some of the details of tomorrow’s event, you were a bit nervous. He instructed you to wear a golf skirt along with a long sleeve polo shirt and a cap to help with the sun. You nodded and then soon found yourself on your bed with Giyuu next to you asleep. When your alarm went off in the morning you noticed Giyuu was gone but he left you a note telling you that he was sorry he had to go and to check your phone. He sent you an audio message which basically consisted of him wishing you a good day at work and reminding you that he cared for you a lot. You smiled and went into the kitchen quickly making breakfast. While your breakfast was heating up, you went into your room looking for your blue maid costume as today was a blue theme with animal ears. You carefully slipped it on as it was slightly intricate and then slipped on your blue bunny ears before going into the kitchen again. You quickly gulped down your breakfast followed with tea and then brushed your teeth and washed your face. You then began your makeup routine and grabbed your bag and keys making sure you had everything before heading out the door. You made sure to send Giyuu pictures of you in your maid outfit, as he really liked this one. You got in your car and drove to work, which was a short drive. You then got out, checking in, and then starting your shift. You had honestly made a decent amount in tips alone today which made you glad, you then got a text from Giyuu saying that a driver was waiting for you but you explained you had driven your car. He told you that he would have the driver bring you back or take your car to your apartment complex. You greeted the driver with a friendly smile before getting in seeing that Giyuu had already bought you the outfit you were wearing accompanied by a note. The note was short and sweet telling you that he couldn’t wait to see you in the outfit. You saw the golf course slowly get bigger and you honestly felt nervous. What if his coworkers didn’t like you? Or worse they questioned what you did for a living? You shook off the negative thoughts as the car had already pulled up. You thanked the driver for getting out and making your way to the nearest dressing room. You quickly changed gently putting your outfit into the bag and took off the heavier parts of your makeup. You then went out and went looking for Giyuu.

“I’m sorry ma’am, are you with anyone?” A male at the front desk had asked you to which you nodded.

“Hello, I’m sorry but I’m here with Mr. Tomioka’s party?” You said in a questioning tone.

“Ah are you (y/n)?” He asked to which you nodded.

He then escorted you onto the field telling you that he would put your things in a locker. You thanked him making sure to take your keys, wallet, and phone out. He then guided you to where Giyuu was, you thanked him before making your way to him. He saw you and hugged you tightly which you returned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He held your hand and then took you over to the rest of his coworkers and their wives. You politely greeted them, with a smile and a small bow. Soon the men were off to play golf and you were left with the wives. You felt slightly self-conscious as the wives were looking at you, you then felt a small vibration between your thighs, and your eyes widened.

“So (y/n) right? What do you do for a living?” One of them asked you and you smiled.

“I’m going to university for business,” You said softly in a strained voice.

The woman nodded and ask you how you were doing in classes to which you replied well, and then you asked her for how long she was married to her husband, you heard a notification go off on your phone. You looked at it to see Giyuu saying that he missed you, and you replied that you missed him too with a frowny face. You then felt the vibrations increase and gripped the chair a little harder. The wives told you they would be drinking but you declined as you didn’t want to get drunk with them, or even drink at all. Soon you saw all the men coming into the distance and you got up brushing your skirt out. You grabbed your things and headed over to Giyuu faltering slightly as he purposely increased the vibrator to its max setting. He went over to you and hugged you tightly which you tried your best to return.

“Oh, um how did it go?” You stuttered out while blushing.

“Pretty good I almost won too,” He said and you pouted.

“Next time then, do you think we can go home? I’m slightly tired,” You said softly and he nodded.

You both said your goodbyes and you got your bag and then met up with Giyuu at the front getting into the car with him.

“Hm, you liked your little surprise petal?” Giyuu asked with a smirk.

“It was a surprise alright… it was interesting I don’t know if I would do it again, depends,” You said softly and he nodded.

You laid your head on his shoulder and he buckled you in and then himself. You felt yourself falling asleep and he held you softly, making sure not to wake you up.

#giyu #giyu x reader #giyu smut #demon slayer #demon slayer smut #one shot #ceo au #hashira smut #water hashira #kimetsu no yaiba

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writing-by-candlelight · 3 years

Text

Hargreeves Mansion Layout: Second Floor

Thank you for coming back for part 2! If you haven’t seen part 1 (the ground floor) you can find it here. And Part 3, the third floor, here!!!

The second floor is slightly more complex than the first floor and it has a lot more rooms.

If you haven’t seen my first post; yellow symbolizes doors or double doors, green are archways, the neon pink is the staircase coming up from the floor beneath (same goes for the light pink - its the main staircase coming up from the ground floor.), the blue is the long staircase from the stair race scene that goes through the entire house from the basement to the third floor. The orange and black will be explained later.

So overall the second floor has the most rooms out of all the floors and the most colors so here we go!

So for the ‘home’ section of the house lets start on the far right.

The empty square there is the balcony area above the living room. Its thicker on the bottom since that’s where the bar is and the bar is completely covered. There also seems to be a small sitting area above it.

I’ve realized now in hindsight that the other end of the walkway ends at the wall and does not have the same sort of walkway across the top. I may correct my drawing in the future.

Speaking of the top section, this is where I’ve put Hargreeves personal rooms. I’ve placed the surveillance room here - the room where Hargreeves watches the children’s brainwaves and where Allison watches the tape of Hargreeves death. I’ve also placed it at the beginning of the hall. We only know there’s a hall since Diego walks down one on the way to Hargreeves’ Bedroom.

I placed Hargreeves’ Study right next to it. I know its not L-shaped as I’ve drawn it but I didn’t want to make the surveillance room super big so I’m just going to run with it. We see a living room and another room through a second door in the study so I assumed that this was another way into his bedroom.

The dotted line through the main walkway is just how I separated the house into sections so it may be ignored.

Now the central section is simpler.

On the bottom we have the Academy oil paintings. The small tragic things taking place from their debut until there was only Luther, Everyone leaving or dying or disappearing.

A bit further, slightly around the corner, is Grace’s charging station with its portraits. I put a dotted line around it because there are no walls but I wanted to show where it was.

Ignoring the courtyard we now get to the most complicated part.

The Bedrooms.

So Luther and Allison are side by side with their doors angled like we see in the dance scene and a lot of other scenes as well.

Then to the side is the bathroom which we see in the show has its own small hallway lined with attack posters like the rest of the hall (horrifying, I know).

Now to the interesting part. Klaus and Vanya’s rooms.

In the flashback scene we see both of their rooms. They are next to each other and both about the size of a closet with Klaus’ being slightly bigger.

But in the scene where they are older and Vanya is destroying the mansion room by room, you can see that Klaus now has a bigger room and that the sort-of-brick wall that we only ever see in Vanya’s room is a part of it.

So at some point the wall was knocked down and both rooms were given to Klaus. It even seems to have both doors, as in one scene Five enters through one and leaves through the other. This results in this chaotic mess of the room:

See? Both doors!

Moving on.

Any black sections on my ‘map’ are just thick walls or areas filled up with dirt or cement (though that last bit is more likely for the basement.)

The rest of the layout is sort of only based in canon since I had to change things around for them to fit (this is what happens when you film in multiple locations and not one house)

Now Diego’s room is the one at the end of the hall as we see in the flashback of Grace walking along it. Now I know in this scene we also see a hallway veering off to the left but it doesn’t make sense with the layout of the house, since that’s where the house ends, so I’ve erased it.

Diego’s room is the smallest of the rooms (once Vanya’s wall is removed) and it doesn’t change much at all so I have little to say about it. But its canonical location is interesting. Originally Diego’s room is diagonal to the third floor staircase (which I’ve striped orange) and has a slight angle to the door. Thing is, for the bathroom to have its hallway and for said hallway to be within the constraints of physics, I had to switch the rooms around a bit.

From the hallway scene we know the bathroom is next to Allison’s room and Klaus’ room is next to Luther’s. But in order to fit the bathroom hallway I had to flip them so I could cut the bathroom into the walkway. That’s why there’s a dotted line through the bathroom since the walkway wall would be there.

The creators also just...forgot??? About the staircase coming up through the floor from the ground floor? so I put the pink stairs right next to the bathroom.

This meant though that I had to put Diego’s room next to Klaus though.

I’ve added a new room for Vanya since she needed one and we are never shown were it is. I’ve put it at the end of the hall, slightly closed off from her siblings since that seems to be where Reginald would have put it.

This is from the hallway flashback just before Reginald comes in frame from that side hallway that doesn’t make sense. The open door we see is Diego’s original (nonsensical) room, which is the room I’ve given Vanya. And the stairs there are from the orange staircase that goes up to the third story. That dark doorway you see is (now) Diego’s room.

Now imagine that the hall just ends with Vanya’s door and that the stairs are folded halfway down to face Vanya’s door.

That’s how I finally got everything to make sense. It took me hours!!! Now we can finally move on to the training section of the second floor.

The second floor is the main training floor. This floor houses the training and exercise room on the far right. This room is mainly for overall training. I’ve headcanoned that it has tan oval running track, weights, workout equipment, punching bags, a climbing wall, gymnastics equipment, and an obstacle course in the center.

The sparring and weapons room is exactly what it sounds like. I’ve put it here for a separate space without all the equipment, because there is no way Hargreeves didn’t pit his children against each other. I headcanon it as having a boxing ring style space at the top and empty weapons space at the bottom with targets secured to the wall (the targets can move with a remote). This space is separated from left to right 3/4 of the way by a large metal weapons case with almost every weapon imaginable. There are dozens of types of guns, swords, war hammers, battle axes, bow and arrows, spears, knives, flamethrowers, scythes, clubs, maces, batons, both dual and singular sticks & staffs, num-chuks, shuriken, and even ‘non traditional weapons’ like ropes and chains.

We know from the scene where Five reappears in Ep 1 that they were taught how to use anything as a weapon. I assume this was either tested in the kitchen itself, or he set up a replica of a household room here.

(This is really really sad, look at it!)

We can see the following:

Egg Beaters - Hair Pull

Stock Pot - Explosive Device

Toaster - Use Cord For Strangulation

Coffee Pot - Throw Coffee In Face

Blender - Hand Mangler

Then I added a row of personal training rooms for their individual powers. Each room has an observation room - with a two way mirror and its own entrance - beneath it. I made it like a prison interrogation room on purpose because Hargreeves goes for functionality and trauma over anything else, and he would not like to be in the same room as some of their powers.

As you can see, the seventh room, which had been Vanya’s, has had its wall knocked down (hence the dotted line) and observation door boarded up. Hargreeves changed it all and made himself a small office instead. This was because it was no longer in use and because he wouldn’t want anyone to suspect anything.

And that’s it for this second installment in the mansion layout!!! Thank you so much for reading, id love to hear any thoughts!!!! Stay tuned for parts 3 & 4.

#The Umbrella Academy #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #reginald hargreeves

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themagicmistress · 3 years

Text

He finds her in a back alley dumpster, head down, fur matted in ugly, spotted clumps that speak of long, hungry months and too few meals.

When Magnus fishes out a piece of jerky from his front pocket, she doesn’t even growl at him. Instead, her tail wags lightly, shifting the dust around behind her.

“Hey, buddy,” he mutters, approaching slow. “What’re you doing all alone out here?”

There’s a flash of tooth that has him retracting his fingers, and the jerky is scarfed down as she tears into it, messy. Her muzzle is grey, he notes, the fur around her scruff shot through with thin lines of silver. She sniffs after finishing and then growls when he reaches his hand out.

Magnus freezes. “Hey,” he starts, “it’s okay. I’m alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.” She gives him dubious eyes, pupils big and black, cautious in a way that hurts his soul. “Really,” he promises.

She leans her wet doggy nose forward and sniffs the palm of his hand, leaning her head down and giving him permission to scratch the back of her ears.

Well, he’d always wanted a dog, right? Magnus still wanted a dog, in fact. It’d been ages since he’d gotten to take care of one. Since he’s woken up to paws on his chest, a tail bouncing against his legs. It’d been a long time. Maybe too long.

She doesn’t resist when he picks her up and brings her to the vet either.

The first thing she does when Magnus brings her home is bound across his home. He runs in after her. “Julia!” he calls out, half-laughing despite himself. “I’ve got a surprise! Make sure the studio is closed.” God, he hopes he closed it before leaving.

He rushes into the kitchen to find her with an armful of German Shepherd, hands awkwardly wrapped around fur and a pattern of muddy pawprints up the side of her skirt. Julia turns to him, eyes alight, a delighted little grin dancing across her face. Her fingers are stained with wood polish and the sunlight makes her deep brown skin glow through the kitchen window.

“Is this delightful little lady the surprise?” Julia coos to her, and the dog in her arms licks the side of her face, flat pink tongue leaving a streak of saliva behind. She laughs in bright peals. “Hi, honey, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“You don’t mind?” Magnus edges awkwardly. “Ah, I’m sorry, I know I didn’t ask and this is your home too.” He falters and doesn’t continue. He doesn’t want to bring her back.

Given the mock-offended look she gives him, his girlfriend doesn’t either.

“This cutie? Absolutely not,” Julia clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Mine now. But maybe yours for a couple seconds. Can you take her? My fingers are sticky and I don’t want to get anymore polish in her fur.”

“Oh! Yeah, here,” Magnus helps the no-longer stray to the ground.

He finally manages to tear his eyes away from Julia and sees a row of wooden bows on the kitchen counter, carefully propped up on long planks as to not get any polish on the table. Reality doesn’t quite come crashing down, because the rebellion is an ever-present weight in the back of his mind, but his chest tightens at the reminder.

Their new dog sniffs slightly at his side. “Just trying to bulk up for the final push against Kalen,” Julia says, turning to wash her hands in the sink. “I have about thirty more in the studio. What do you think?”

Magnus plucks one of the strings. It twangs under his fingers. “Jules?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m not sure if everyone’s gonna be able to fire these?” He says unsurely. “I mean, the workmanship is excellent, and they look great, but…”

Julia frowns at them, tapping at one near the end of the counter to check for tackiness before holding it up. Careful, she pulls back the string and her biceps flex as it draws back with ease. Magnus gulps. Her eyes dance, mischievous and knowing as she puts it back down before she draws a breath.

“Yeah,” Julia grimaces at the row of bows, “I see what you mean. I’ll re-string them a bit later. Forget about work for now, did you have a name in mind for her?”

The dog jumps up onto his legs, paws on his pants and Magnus reaches down a fond hand to scratch between her ears. “I was thinking,” he hesitates, “what do you think about ‘Star?’”

It’s not quite right. It doesn’t feel wrong, but it’s just shy of the goalpost, like biting into banana bread without chocolate chips in it: not bad, but weird. Julia still nods, face warming as she looks at the new addition to their home.

“I like it.”

He’ll find them together on their off-days, few and far between, Star curled in Julia’s lap as she takes the time to read one of those detective novels she loves, but never has the chance to look at.

Star will look at her with pleading eyes whenever his girlfriend strays too far to the door, leash dragging after her. Star follows her around the house too, so much that they’ve had to install another, gated door in the entrance to the workshop because she’ll try to wander in if they’ve forgotten to close it behind them. During strategic meetings for the rebellion, Magnus will look around the planning room and Star will be around Julia’s legs because everyone they know is at the meeting too and they can’t leave her home alone.

The revolution is no place for a dog. It’s no place to have a life either, but then, he plans to do something about that.

It’s apparent to both of them who the favourite is. “Who’s the best girl in the whole wide world?” Julia says to Star, a goopy grinning mess on her feet in their bed.

“Love you,” Magnus says: to Star, to Julia. To whatever gave him a home, a better future on the horizon, a family he loves, and a ring with a wooden rose carved on top, tucked away in the second drawer of their bedside table.

She shifts closer to him, a warm weight at his side.

Julia pulls his chin to her and plants a kiss on his lips, warm and soft. Then, she pulls back and Magnus blinks, dazed but happy.

“Say that again,” She tells him, eyebrow quirked. “But this time, don’t make it sound like a goodbye, alright?”

Magnus grins, a little sheepish. “I love you, Jules.”

A pleased grin spreads across her face. “I love you too.”

The week after Governor Kalen goes down, they take some time off to go to the park, toss around a ball. Magnus actually brought five balls, because he keeps throwing them a little too enthusiastically and they go bouncing outside the gates of the park.

“No, girl,” Julia giggles as Star jumps up onto her pants, “bring it back to Magnus, okay? Oh, alright, fine.” She seems to begrudgingly add another stick to her pile.

A guy nearby grumbles about the lack of sticks in the park and Magnus raises his voice. “Hey, Jules? Didja know they’ve been calling me ‘hero of the people?’” Magnus watches him pale and proceed to fuck off with no small amount of petty satisfaction.

“Yeah, babe! I know!”

“Isn’t that a great name!”

“I like ‘Maggie’ better!” Jules yells back and throws a stick. Magnus gets knocked over as a ball of fur collides hard with him and when he manages to push himself up, she’s laughing so hard her hands are wrapped around her stomach and her face is red.

“Just stand there,” Magnus shouts back, grinning too, “see if I care. Our dog loves me more than you and I’m pretty sure she just gave me a concussion!”

Julia throws another stick and they have learned nothing from their mistakes because this time Magnus really does get a concussion.

He finds her across the bridge that once connected to the Craftsmens’ Corridor, snout between her paws, fur coated in dust so thick she looks like a grey dog instead of a brown and black one. Magnus searches for Julia, upturns every outcropping of Raven’s Roost just in case there’s some chance she might have made it out, that she might have survived. Then, he does the same for Kalen, but for very different reasons. When he can’t find either of them, Magnus cries into Star’s fur.

He sets up a camp on the outside of town, just a little tent, something to put a roof over Star’s head. Magnus sleeps with her at his side and he is always cold, with the damp forest grass soaking through the thin layer between him and the ground, the clothes on his back that do nothing to warm his fingers, and each breath calcifying in his lungs like liquid nitrogen. Star becomes the only warm thing about him.

The first day after he sets up camp, Magnus wakes up to find her gone.

“Star?” he calls out, instantly alert. “Star?” Magnus bounds out of the tent, having slept in his clothes, and yells out to the forest. “Star? Girl, are you out there?” He searches, half-blind and panicked, not realizing where his feet are taking him until he’s there.

She’s at the edge of the cliff again, staring hopefully out over the two posts where a bridge once connected to his home. There is no bridge anymore. There’s no Craftsmens’ Corridor and instead there lies the open ocean, stretching in front of him for endless miles.

He walks to her side in a daze, a dream-like state. The horizon’s wrong, he thinks. From Hammer and Tongs, he could see the ocean, breathtaking and unending. Here, the other stone outcroppings lay scattered and empty to his right, marring his fantasy that for just a second, he’s home again.

“C’mon, Star,” Magnus mutters. She doesn’t move or look at him, just staring out over the water. He can’t find it in himself to tear her away, so he doesn’t. They sit there together until the sun goes down.

The next day, he wakes to find Star gone again.

Magnus keeps going there with her, leaving only to find them food. He goes to the cliffside in his dreams until there is no difference between his waking hours and sleeping hours. He always wakes up, disappointed that his wife’s never in them.

Eventually, he has to drag himself away. Star needs food, actual dog food and that takes money.

At first, he leaves her with the Burringters, a family with a little girl that shrieks in delight at the sight of Star. They’re some of the last stragglers on their way out of town.

“Make sure she has her ball when she’s feeling nippy,” Magnus tells Mrs. Burringter and places a ratty green ball in her hand with long tooth marks gouged into its sides. “Sometimes she forgets how much she weighs, so just— be aware. Of that.”

“Of course,” the halfling woman says, hair done up into a high ponytail, belly swelled with many months of pregnancy. “Where’re you looking to find work?”

“Oh, uh, Birchmore.”

She nods. “I think Greg’s got a cousin up there if you needed help finding something to do. He’s got a little business importing leathers.”

Magnus blinks at the bit of unexpected generosity. “I’m good, thanks. Nice of you to offer, but I’m alright by myself for now.”

Mrs. Burrington eyes him and all of a sudden he’s small again, being stared down by his mother and he almost thinks she’s going to lick her finger and wipe off a bit of dust from his cheek. “You know, if you need something, we’re always here.”

“That’s—”

“Not just us,” She puts a hand to her chest. “Anyone from Raven’s Roost, Magnus. Any of us.”

Magnus isn’t sure what to say. He settles for, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

The sun rises and sets on the ocean and the two of them are there to watch it every time. Or, almost every time. Eventually, people leave Raven’s Roost and he can’t leave Star alone by herself so he brings her with him when he needs to find work, to buy food and essentials.

A part of him thinks Star needs to grieve, to take that time before moving on with him. Another knows that isn’t the reason he stays.

She’s all he has left of her.

One day Magnus wakes up and Star hasn’t gone, and there is nothing warm about her presence at all. Her paws are on his chest, eyes closed and he knew she wasn’t a young dog, but somehow he’d still managed to miss the rapidly greying hair of her muzzle, the way she dragged her feet back to the tent.

Or maybe Star hadn’t died of old age. Maybe it had just been a broken heart.

He buries her beside Julia’s empty grave, makes her a wooden marker with simple lettering. She loved and was loved, he scrawls across it and the writing is crooked, far too messy for what she’d deserved, but it’s the best he can do.

The next day, Magnus packs up his bag and his tent, hefts his ax over his shoulder, and leaves the sea behind. A part of him already misses it and still, he knows it’s not the town he misses.

Magnus doesn’t turn back when he leaves Raven’s Roost for the last time.

He knows he’ll see them again.

Link to A03 version here.

#My fic #The Adventure Zone #magnus burnsides #fanfic #the adventure zone: balance #animal death

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suspiciouslybluemilktea · 3 years

Text

The Passed Out Princess Chapters 1-2

Pairing: My CMC (Uyu, Dan Byeol) x Suit Saeran

Description: On days 7-9 of Ray’s route, the player is denied food as “Saeran” makes his presence first known. But, what if MC fell very ill under this method of torture due to a medical condition? Sadly, my custom MC, Uyu (full name Dan Byeol), would deal with exactly this dilemma.

Content warning: Descriptions of throwing up, passing out, and meal skipping. Every food related issue mentioned is strictly medical, and based on my own condition.

This was written under the assumption that you have played Ray’s route in full, so route spoilers ahead! This takes place during the very beginning of day 8, and according to the timings and contents of the chat rooms, it would take place before Saeran cuts contact with the RFA and before he installs a camera to monitor MC in her room. It is timed to match closely around to when I’d get sick myself.

My CMC’s condition deals chronic with low blood sugar, meaning she has to eat to keep it up or suffer the consequences as seen here. It is not diabetes related, it is something she is born with as am I and is linked to more complicated matters I left out to keep it simple. Some symptoms include: growing light headed, severe dizziness, nausea, vomiting, and passing out. See all chapters

I wrote this with flexibility for whichever HC for Saeran you follow (DID or BPD), because whether or not he has one of the following, Rika has drilled it in his head that Ray and Saeran are separate entities, and Saeran views it this way. Consider it written the way Cheritz writes him, with nothing exactly too set.

To make things easier for myself, I’m uploading multiple chapters on each post, chapters only separated by lines. Here is 1 and 2

Ping!

The sound of Dan’s phone alerted her to rise and greet the day with a new chat room open.

As the morning sun took its place in the clear blue sky, the little woman sat up in her big bed, bangs sticking out in all directions as her head thumped with a dull pain. Hunger induced pain, she noted, as her stomach felt empty.

Despite the beauty of this early morning, the light pouring through the windows creating a rosy glow which engulfed the princess room; there was no beautiful light shining on the brunette’s new situation, seeming so dreary and dim.

Uyu still found herself wrapped up in this place, whisked away to a castle tucked deep within mountains known as Magenta. Every corner of the building was constructed brick by brick with a beautifully ornate architectural design, but the bright exterior was only a façade. If she was left caged like this for long, what would become of her? Driven to insanity, perhaps she’d attack and claw at the walls which confined her, unable to turn her anger to Saeran, the real victim in all this. The “savior” made it clear she was the true ruling figure who lurked about as the moon rose, the mastermind behind this place’s pain and suffering.

The night before, after being so kindly introduced to “Saeran”, this golden-haired angel confirmed herself to be quite the wicked witch of the west indeed, and it took everything out of Uyu to not call her harsher names to her face.

Mint Eye was hell redecorated to wear the guise of heaven, but pretty gardens and saccharine words could not fool her. Because Dan wore no wool over her eyes, the savior had no intention of allowing her to live long enough to become the new narrator of “The Yellow Wallpaper”; and she had no shoes to click together at the heel to wish her way home with who she came here for originally.

Just as Ray’s suit did, he changed, flipping like a light switch.

Saeran, the name V previously called him by, did succeed in giving her a good fright, his attitude being the least thing she expected to see after Ray’s earlier sobs over the phone.

Uyu was mainly focused on one solid question after their encounter, though. Just what did that “cleansing” entail in full detail? What did this place do to him, to make him weep and beg for a warm hand to hold one minute, only to push back and try to scare her the next?

It was as if he was caught, dragged by the feet somewhere inescapable, a pit damp and dark down under; rising from a shivering grave cold to the touch.

If it weren’t for her position, she wouldn’t have allowed it.

Now more than ever, this room built on the foundation of fantasy and delight felt like a birdcage which barely allowed her to wiggle an arm through its bars. She relied on her song, her sweet words which Ray claimed to tickle at his heart and hold a power over him like no other before. Her goal, of course, was to use this for good, influencing him to learn to appreciate and care for himself like he should. But now, she felt unable to do even that much, not that she’d give up trying.

Saeran wished to dismiss her and her actions entirely, evident from his need to spew the fact that he bestowed upon her the label of being less than a person, his toy. His play thing.

That sick twisting she felt pooling in her gut upon first hearing the term “cleansing” seemed all too in place.

Ray, as sweet as her prince charming was, had a knack for leaving out important details about this museum of wonder. To her best guess, it was done to avoid panic as none of what went on here could be viewed as normal, or ok. He only briefly mentioned things like the “elixir”, such as on the night V arrived to spiral this place’s plans into chaos.

That was the night she could officially mark a great importance in staying, despite the vast network of lies.

Uyu wasn’t entirely stupid, she had an idea of what the elixir might be a while back, but it was still hard to process regardless.

Saeran threatened to give her one of these cleansing ceremonies...and said he could “draw out the maximum pain in the process”, telling her whatever happened to him hurt. A “no duh” moment indeed, but it was confirmation.

Ray suffered, for no reason other than he was too enwrapped in his blooming feelings for her, something that shouldn’t be taken as a negative but was. It displeased the savior that his chains which bound him by the ankles began to jingle with his new yearning to take flight.

She couldn’t allow herself to lie down and give the savior the satisfaction of breaking her, not when she still had so much to do, and not when Saeran and the RFA were at risk.

As the cool night-time air blew around them, feeling its whisper through her long locks of hair, Ray opened up about Mint Eye’s beliefs as a sanctuary for the “weak”, who had no choice but to lock themselves away to avoid further hurt.

He clearly viewed himself as someone in this category. Weak. But Saeran? Saeran shoved and shouted, which felt like a complete opposite to Ray’s whimpers and pleading. He even went as far as to accuse her of manipulation, of treating Ray like a puppet as she watched him dance to the harp she plucked.

Looking past his outburst and itch to watch her squirm, there stood a man seething with hate sparked entirely by twisted lies and his own fears. He gave himself away rather quickly as he attempted to say she messed with “hisna vefeelings” for some “big plan”.

She had to trust that there were boundaries he wouldn’t cross, being so close to her and forceful...and that was where her panic truly lied. But for now, she’d bank on the idea that he just wanted to scare her, staying alert in case he went too far. There were vases around from Ray’s various gifts that could be used as a weapon during the extreme. Unlike her, Saeran had no fighting skills either, but currently she was a bit too ill for those measures.

For once, a room so pink made her feel neither cozy nor at home.

Uyu’s fuzzy morning vision was then attracted to a black blob hanging on the doorknob. With a little eye rub, she made it out to be a dress, and a rather pretty one at that. In the way it was cut, it would expose much of her shoulders and upper back, the top front of it connected to a bow tied around the back of a neck piece with strings of fabric; like an attached choker. She could only assume it was a “gracious gift” bestowed upon her from the man she saw take Ray’s place. Apparently, he has a thing for black.

Her little device chimed again, and then once more, third time giving her the last push of annoyance she needed to reach over and respond to the opened chatroom.

She sighed with relief seeing Seven was the person active online, as she could now pester him with questions about what he was seeing on his end of the fight. They typed away, Uyu expressing concern for both of the hackers as they discussed Ra-Saeran’s new careless and aggressive tactics to snag him a victory.

As time passed, Jumin joined to ask questions as well, mainly circling around the governmental commendation from the Prime Minister to recognize the RFA for their charity work. Uyu stuck to her gut and pushed against the idea of it being a complete positive.

While both V and Seven acted oddly around the idea of the commendation, the RFA was also just a small organization which had only held two parties previous to Rika’s “passing”. The award was too fishy to trust in her judgment, especially now that she understood things going on around here weren’t at all what they had seemed to be.

Mint Eye wasn’t the only organization she was caught in that held its secrets.

After a bit of talking, Jumin agreed that the prime minister’s reasoning had to be figured out before any final decisions could be made. Everyone logged off, Seven returning to the battlefield and Jumin to stitching in his car.

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

The need for food grew worse.

Uyu showered and changed into the outfit provided…not having much of a choice to do otherwise unless she wanted to rewear old clothing. She felt down and sluggish as she dressed the way her toy maker willed, the dark frills of her attire tickling against her thighs as her step dragged. She was still ok enough to make herself look presentable, even if done at such a pace.

Her hair changed to a solid dark brown color as it took in the shower water, the gold ombré reaching her tips returning upon giving it a blow dry, making sure Saeran would have less to scoff next he saw her. She wasn’t aiming to avoid his crude comments, but instead trying to make herself feel good. Call her smelly all he wants, she knows she isn’t.

Saeran was aiming to play into her insecurities, maybe full well knowing she had so very many of them as he tried to wind her up. The least she could do was confirm his lies to be lies in the ways she knew how, if not for him then for her. She couldn’t allow him to figure out what made her gears stop, whether his words were true or not. This was no game of knife throwing, and she was no target.

11:00 AM crept up on her as she moped around quietly in her dollhouse, waiting for Saeran to come and try to take a good yanking on her marionette strings.

Dan sat upon the bed as the empty-headed feeling and banging in her temple raged, shifting to lay down fully and make herself more comfortable. If she stood for too long, she’d sway and wobble as her vision turned to black, purple and green swirls, momentarily clouding both her sight and mind.

Despite her numerous texts and occasional calls, she still heard nothing from Saeran. Not a peep.

She was growing restless as well as worried for him, and what would become of her as she continued to go unfed.

Her phone buzzed, shifting her attention over to it groggily, eyes half lidded as she wanted to sleep off this sinking feeling. Soon, she’d start to go down like the Titanic as lunch time acted as her iceberg.

Uyu hoped it was her self-proclaimed master, only to let out a grumble seeing that it wasn’t. Instead, it was Zen who had logged on.

She chatted with him, trying her best not to voice her ever-growing discomfort from skipping last night’s dinner as well as that morning’s breakfast, lunch time now creeping just around the corner.

After a quick talk, she’d call Saeran again...as uncomfortable as that conversation would be, it was her only viable option to kill the onslaught of nausea.

As they talked for a while, Yoosung joined the conversation as well….with talk of food; stew he was in the middle of making to be precise. She felt her stomach churn and rumble as the need for rest fell over her like a weighted blanket, being the only escape from the inevitable vomit now building up inside.

She logged off within another couple of seconds as the hot sweat began.

Dan swallowed thickly as her stomach went haywire, guts twisting, coaxing her to run to the toilet and empty out the water she could at least keep herself going on from the bathroom tap.

Leaving her phone on the bed, she rose to her feet best she could, stumbling till she reached the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. There, she fell to her knees, pulling her long hair back and away from her damp face, lifting up the toilet seat before her.

Within a mere moment, she felt the contents claw at the inside of her throat with a burning sensation, attempting to break free. She shuddered as her body suddenly fell in temperature, before allowing whatever her tummy could offer up to slip past her lips, color in her face all too faded away, displaying her illness. Gagging and choking noises echoed throughout the small room as the rather clearish liquid flowed from her mouth, tears from the discomfort blurring her vision as she blinked them away.

She stayed like that by the toilet for a while, throwing up a couple more times before making certain that event was over for the time being. Uyu considered herself extremely lucky that none was able to touch her or end up in her hair, but not nice to say vomiting wasn’t new to her. She knew the tricks.

Oddly, when something like this would happen, it gave her a tiny amount of strength back. It was strangely relieving, although emptying her stomach further. Her tummy was able to untense a tad.

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes before giving it all a flush down.

A fast teeth brush followed before she stumbled over to bed where she had left her phone. She fiddled with the RFA app until she could reach Saeran’s contact profile. Trying not to let the dread of being ignored again wash over her, she dialed up his number, both nervous and praying this time for a response.

After that last fit was over, her condition would move her into another stage, passing out being the only thing to come next without the blood sugar spike she needed.

The ringing went on for what felt like an eternity as she groaned and pressed her face into the pillow.

“Pick up...pick up damn it please pick up…”.

Uyu wished that she had made a bigger fuss over this earlier rather than attempting to swallow it and wait it out. Being distracted by “the savior” and Saeran’s screaming was something she shouldn’t have allowed herself to do in the midst of endangering her own health. What was she thinking? She knew it would reach this point, it always does if left unchecked. She internally cursed herself for not speaking up more assertively.

After another moment, his angry voice finally came through the speaker and she sighed softly with relief. The last she had heard from him was at four in the morning.

“Feeling this lonely and desperate already, hmm? Tch...what makes you think you have the right to contact me over and over again when I’m doing important work unlike you?”

She huffed on the other end, which he paid no mind.

“All you do is fiddle around like a good for nothing. You didn’t seem so happy to chat with me last time we spoke, but now you’re all eager and ready? You’re just itching for another visit aren’t you? Impatient little princess~.”

He let out an airy chuckle, finding her repeated acts of calling him rather amusing.

“Don’t worry. I have play time all planned out for you soon, you pest. I’ll bother you ten times more than you ever bothered me-”

She cut off his angry rambling, mumbling quietly as she spoke.

“Saeran...can you please come here? I’m not well right now and I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself functioning...I already threw up-”

“Speak up, you complainer! Seriously? You want to see me so badly that you’d put on an elaborate show? Princess...you can’t win any sort of sympathy from me by acting like a brat. Ugg, I’m going to hang up now. I’ll be imagining the million ways I can punish you for this later, stupid toy. I’m busy! Too busy for a bug like you to understand! You waste my time-”

“Wait please...please come here...it’s harder for me to explain over the phone. I...mentioned this problem earlier..please…”

And she had, briefly attempting to bring it up as he invaded a chat room between her and Jaehee.

“Begging now?”

He took on a sad tone of childish mockery as he continued.

“Please please please...please come see me... AHAHA! You airhead. I know what your medical records look like, and therefore I know you’re spinning a lie. You’re not to be trusted just as my savior says. There’s nothing there pertaining to some sort of eating issue other than the fact that your weak little body can’t handle milk…‘Uyu’~.”

He teased at her chosen nickname, and while the irony was why it was picked, this was less than fun.

“Now quit whining over an empty stomach when it hasn’t even been a full day! It’s no fun to see you give up so fast!”

Dan tried her best not to slur her speech, the task assigned to speak up being too hard of one to follow.

“Fine...fine don’t believe me. But…..it doesn’t hurt to come anyways. Since you want to see me suffer….or whatever….”

“Or whatever??? Toy, if I come see you right now...you won’t like what you’re going to get. I haven’t an ounce of pity in me to give you if that’s what you’re searching for. I'm not the type to let you rest in my lap as I stroke your hair and tell you it will be alright, and I won’t give in and feed you. Instead, I’ll make sure you never wish to call me again.”

“...ok…”

“Ok? Ok?? Haha! ...ok then. Let’s see how pathetic you’ve become as you beg and plead to me in person, little actor. Playtime is happening earlier today than I had planned. Congratulations! I’m extra pissed.”

Call ended.

She let out a puff of air, dropping her phone down next to her before closing her eyes, not bothering to stand in preparation for his arrival.

Next chapters All chapters

#suit saeran #ray mystic messenger #saeran x mc #Uyu #Dan Byeol #mystic messenger cmc

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violetlou2020 · 3 years

Text

DAY 6 of @flufftober2021

Fireman's Carry

Title: Capture This [← ao3]

Author: Vividly_Violet

Fandom: Diamond no Ace

Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun

Rating: General

Word Count: 1644

⚾♦️

The cultural festival was in full blast in Seidou High School, students and visitors were milling about, each classroom occupied with whatever their class came up with, from cafe's, exhibits, game booths and photo booths. Miyuki was finishing up his last batch of yakisoba — their class opening up a simple Japanese summer festival themed restaurant — when a loud booming voice called out his name. The third year sighed before removing his apron and calling out one of his classmate to take over for him.

"You're boyfriend's looking for you," she said amused.

"I can hear that." he responded with a chuckle. Miyuki made his way over to the loud noise courtesy of Kuramochi locking the young southpaw in a headlock.

"I give up, please mochi-senpai!"

"Oi Kuramochi, there's food waiting to be served."

"Shut up bastard, I'm just keeping this loudmouth from freaking out our customers."

"You're the scary one kuramochi-senpai, if anyone's driving out customers It'll be because of your delinquent looking scary face." Eijun shouted ducking out of the other third years reach once he escaped Youichi's hold.

"Why you—" Miyuki laughed at the pair running around the semi crowded and busy classroom of class 3B until their class rep grabbed Kuramochi by the scruff of his shirt and glared at Kazuya.

"Seriously?" she sighed, "Kuramochi-san, the customers please and Miyuki-san you can go and enjoy the festival with Sawamura-kun if you'd like, you're off for today. You've done a lot of the prep work, the rest we can handle but be sure to be back before three for the clean up." Eijun let out a loud shout, thanking the class rep with a deep bow embarrassing both her and Miyuki while Kuramochi cackled at the background.

"You heard her, now let's go!" Sawamura grabbed Miyuki by his hand before dragging him out of the classroom. The catcher let the younger teen pull him from classroom to classroom, making sure to stop by some of their teammates rooms to see what their class was doing. From Kawakami's class doing fortune telling to Okumura's class doing an animal themed cafe (Eijun just had to snap a picture of Koushu with wolf ears, the growl the younger teen adding to his character).

They also visited Haruichi and Tojou's class which was doing a haunted house which Kazuya drag his boyfriend in. Sawamura jumped and screamed when he was greeted by the younger Kominato who opened the door from the other side. He wasn't even in costume since he was the one manning the entrance and Kazuya laughed at how easily jumpy Eijun is when they even hadn't even entered. After visiting each of their friends class the pair went jumping from one food stall to another to try out their foods and gamebooths much to the protest of the catchers wallet which was becoming lighter and lighter as they pass one room to another.

⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾

"Hey by the way, what's your class doing?" Kazuya asked after taking a bite out of Eijuns crepe. Both were sitting on a wooden bench under a tree just outside of the school building.

"Hey—" before he could protest Miyuki shoved his own crepe in Sawamura's mouth, taking the cue Eijun took a huge bite from the treat as revenge. Miyuki shook his head before taking another bite off his.

"Were doing a photo booth, the girls in my class kinda got obsessed with brides and grooms from this one manga that's recently became popular and demanded we have a wedding themed photo booth." Eijun answered his boyfriends earlier question.

"Wanna go take one?" Kazuya joked but Eijun jumped to face the older teen.

"Really!?"

"I was just joking."

"But—" the younger teen gave his best puppy dog eyes, a move that was greatly effective with getting whatever he wanted from his boyfriend except for catching for him more. He still needs to work on it to reach that level.

"Fine." the pair made quick work of their crepe and headed off to Sawamura's classroom.

Kanemaru greeted them by the door of class 2B, giving one look at the exasperated team captain and overly excited southpaw before ushering them in.

"So we get to have a costume change and have photos taken of us." Miyuki asked, eyeing the other couples who were having their photos taken.

"Pretty much, we have some backgrounds installed here and costumes that the theater club kindly lent us." the sandy blond teen said as one of their female classmate approached them holding the wedding attires.

"Shinji-kun we have a problem!"

"Huh?"

"We don't have an extra tux!" she exclaimed. Both Shinji and Kazuya paused to stare at her before turning their heads towards Eijun, a grin plastered both on their face. The south paw gulped and tried to make a run for it but Kazuya pulled him to his chest.

"Hey, where do you think you're going, wasn't it you who wanted to have our photos taken."

"I changed my mind." protested the teen, Miyuki's hold tightened.

"Kamemaru!" Sawamura wailed at his fellow first years for help but Shinji was holding up the white wedding dress and Furuya was standing behind the blond, coming out of nowhere, with a camera on hand.

The rest of their classmates seemed to ignore the screams from behind the changing curtain and echoing cackle of Kanemaru as he forcefully shoved the south paw in the dress.

"Haruno! Make-up"

"On it!" She replied as she went inside of the curtain.

"Wait— no one said anything about make-up! Hey—"

"Miyuki-senpai the other changing area is this way."

"Ahh thanks."

After fifteen minutes with Miyuki leaning across the rooms wall having changed into a black tux with a sunflower pinned at the lapel, the curtain to Eijun's changing area finally opened revealing Eijun in a dazzling white long sleeved wedding dress that hugged his lean body perfectly.

His hair was styled in a way that revealed his heart shaped face, white and bedazzled hair clips keeping his hair away from his eyes, clip on earrings with a yellow gems hang from the brunettes ear and his lips were glimmering with the light lipgloss Haruno put on him. His cheeks were pink in hue growing redder and redder the longer Miyuki stared at his boyfriend in awe, mouth agaped and eyes wide.

Eijun blinked, batting his mascara covered eyelashes and showing off the smoky eyeshadow lids at the starstruck older teen.

"Oi you bastard say something!" Eijun yelled as he tugged at the side of his dress, Miyuki snapped from his daze giving Eijun another once over from his head to his heel clad toes.

"Oi you pervert! Stop staring at me like that." the southpaw shrieked and the catcher just chuckled before taking Eijun's hand into his and giving it a squeeze before he pulled it up and placed a kiss on the back of Eijun's pitching hand.

"You're really pretty like this, you know? My lovely pretty bride." Miyuki said shamelessly causing the pitcher to combust. From behind, someone cleared their throat and the pair jumped in surprise, they forgot they weren't the only people in the room.

"Yo remember us?" Shinji said drily while the rest of his classmates were trying to busy themselves and not look at the flirting couple in the room.

"Ahh sorry about that."

"If you guys are done we can take the pictures now."

"Sure."

"So how do you want us."

The pair were led to the other side of the room where flowers were arranged in to an arch and one of the students handed Eijun a bouquet of flower while another fixed the veil on his head. The photographer snapped a picture of the two standing side by side with Eijun's hands wrapped around Kazuya's arm, another with a peace sign and a couple more with different posses all the while most of the female students gushed about how good they look together.

"Hey how 'bout I carry you in a bridal carry?" Miyuki whispered in Sawamura's ear.

"A wha–" but before the younger teen could get ready Miyuki began to lift him up. Sawamura squirmed around at the hold, trying to have Miyuki put him down and shouting how embarrassing it was. The older teen struggled to keep the brunette in place but to no such luck, instead Miyuki heaved a sigh before picking up Eijun again and putting him on his shoulder in to a firemans carry instead of a bridal one.

A couple of shuttering of the camera lens later and with no signs of Miyuki letting him go, Eijun gave up and held on to his catchers strong shoulders grumbling to himself as he heard Miyuki chuckle.

One last shoot, Miyuki brushing his hands across the brunettes thigh and a red hand imprint on Miyuki's face and dressed back in their casual wears later both were heading back to Miyuki's classroom.

"Uhhg I can't believe you did that in front of all my classmates."

"I know, did you see Kanemaru's face."

"That's not— uhhg you're imposible."

"Thank you!"

"Not a compliment."

"Haha love you too."

⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾♦️⚾

Later that evening, Eijun pinned the photo of Miyuki carrying him on his shoulder on the small corkboard over on his desk. Kuramochi who was lounging on his bed rolling his eyes at his roommate tossed his phone to Sawamura. The messenger app of the phone was open to their teams group chat and Eijun let out a squeak upon seeing tons of photos of him in both the changing area and in the photo shoot. When he looked at the name of the sender, he gaped. All were sent by Furuya.

Just then a grinning tanuki sticker was sent and Eijun just plopped down face first on Kuramochi's bed where said person was laughing at him.

#flufftober2021 #Day 6 #Fireman's Carry #misawa #sawamura eijun #miyuki kazuya #diamond no ace

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peterxwade24 · 4 years

Text

Safety Found in Red Sleeves

Who’s ready for chapter 1?!?! Woot Woot!

For this chapter, which is only 2008 words, I’ve decided to do multiple points of view (which is indicated by -*-*-*), and go between Paris and Gotham. I hope everyone enjoys this thrilling installment in Safety Found in Red Sleeves.

Chapter 1

Thana, because she would almost always refer to herself as Thana because that is the name her mother gave her and the name her brother knew to be her’s, looked around the overly pink bedroom her new parents had furnished for her. She knew her new parents had always wanted a little girl of their own, a little girl who was of their own blood. Thana looked down at the pink dress in her hands, she was to attend a function with Chloé and her parents this evening and she was to dress up.

Thana looked at her reflection in the mirror, her hair was in a pixie cut with the tips dyed black. She frowned at her reflection, she didn’t look like Thana Todd anymore. She looked like Marinette Dupain-Cheng, with her hair fading back to her normal dark red hair and her face gaining weight in ways she hadn’t expected. Thana pressed her hand against the mirror, just to see if it was real or an illusion.

She turned around and shook her head. She took a calming breath and smiled to herself. “You can do this. Just, think about what Jay-Jay would say. He’d be so proud of you.” Thana nodded and started to change out of her everyday clothes into the pink dress. She needed to get ready faster.

Thana sat at the vanity in her room, pulling out the makeup her new mom had gotten her. She added light pink eyeshadow to her eyelids before putting shimmery white eyeshadow in the inner corners of her eyes. She applied a light amount of eyeliner before swiping mascara onto her lashes. She applied a light pink gloss to her lips and smiled. If Jay-Jay saw her, he’d say she looked pretty.

Thana got up and grabbed a small white clutch, into which she put her wallet and the light pink gloss, before looking in the mirror again. She glanced into her hair, where Plagg tended to hide. “Plagg? What do you think?”

Plagg poked his head out of her hair and looked over her outfit in the mirror. Plagg’s little face split open in a smile and he settled down in her hair again. “You look pawsitively purrfect kitten. Although, you can stand to use more of our colours.”

She giggled and nodded. “I know I could. Should I use the black clutch instead? With the emerald clasp?”

Plagg considered that before nodding. “With the matching shoes. And the emerald necklace and earrings.”

Thana smiled and glanced behind her at the cheese danishes. “Would you care for a cheese danish? I’m sure we’ll be able to find some of that rich people's cheese at the function.”

Plagg dashed out of her hair and went over to the plate of cheese danishes. “You’re the sweetest kitten.”

Thana giggled and placed her white clutch on the vanity table. “You just like getting carbs with your cheese.” Thana hurried to grab the right clutch and transferred her things from the white clutch to the black clutch. She slipped on her black shoes with emerald details, grabbed her emerald necklace and earrings, and put them on. “Okay Plagg.” Thana picked up her clutch and turned to him. “What do you think now?”

Plagg smiled. “Pawsitively purrfect kitten. You’ll be the Cinderella of the ball.”

Thana and Plagg laughed before Plagg finished his danish and flew back to her hair. “Let’s go. Chloé, Kim and Nino will be here soon.”

---

Thana, the shortest of her friends, stood glumly in a corner as her eyes were focused on the screen on the opposite wall. She felt her mood darken further when the international news rolled along and displayed a story from Gotham.

“Yama Lingpa, reporting live from the Wayne conference.” Yama Lingpa was an attractive woman of Tibetan descent, with long brown hair and deep brown eyes. “Mr. Wayne is addressing the world today regarding his sons.”

Bruce Wayne became the focus of the camera, despite the four black haired boys behind him, with an easy smile on his face. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for being here today. Second of all, I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge and remember all of the parents who don’t get their children back.” Bruce bowed his head in silence, an action quickly followed by the rest of the people in attendance. “Finally, I’d like to introduce you all to my sons. One of them you’ve all probably heard of before, as we believed we’d buried him some years ago.” Bruce cleared his throat before motioning for two of his sons to step forward. Bruce pointed to the younger of the two, who bore a striking resemblance to him. “This is my son Damian, who was conceived through less than ideal means. He’s the only one who’s actually biologically my son but that does not mean I love the rest of my sons any less.” Bruce pointed to his other son, older but not the oldest, who’s blue eyes kept Thana’s eyes affixed to the screen. “My second son, Jason Peter Todd, has returned. He’s the one who brought Damian to me, after being kidnapped by Damian’s mother.”

Thana could no longer focus, a gasp escaping her, as she gazed at her brother for the first time since she’d been forced out of Gotham.

“I know. Isn’t he dreamy?” An older girl asked from beside Thana. “I would climb on top of him and ride him like the prize stallion.”

Chloé appeared out of nowhere and cleared her throat. “You do know that’s her brother, right? And no girl wants to hear that another girl wants to ride their brother.” Chloé seemed to process her words for a moment before turning to Thana. “Your brother? But,” she shook herself before placing a hand on Thana’s shoulder. “I’ll go get the others. We’ll go back to mine and talk. Collect some snacks.”

Thana walked over to the buffet-style table loaded with various foods, grabbed a variety of different foil containers, and filled them with the snacks each person would enjoy. She did everything as though on autopilot, barely noticing when Chloé returned until Nino took the containers from her, and Kim, with his red suit jacket, pulled her against his chest. Behind Thana’s friends stood Chloé’s oldest friend, Adrien, and Alix Kubdel.

The six teens walked out of the hall, hushed whispers following them out.

-*-*-*

Jason let the smile slip from his face as soon as he joined Dick and Tim backstage. He turned away from Bruce and Damian, feeling the younger boy grab his left hand anyway. “What did you mean? You couldn’t possibly. Dickiebird, Replacement. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Tim shrugged sheepishly before pulling out the polaroids. “It happened in broad daylight. I’m sorry, I was nine I didn’t know what to do.”

Dick frowned. “I wasn’t even in the city that day.” Dick looked at his little brothers and pulled them close. “I promise, we’ll track her down.”

Bruce frowned and narrowed his eyes at his oldest. “You will do no such thing. No son of mine will be running around with the child of a rogue.”

Jason pulled away from his brothers and raised an eyebrow at Bruce. “Alfred would call you a hypocrite. I’ll call you an ass. Pixie is my little sister and she will always come first.” Jason turned back to his brothers before gently pushing Damian towards Tim. "You're still living in the manor, right? Can you take him there for a while? There are some things I need to take care of before I can take him in."

Tim nodded before wrapping an arm around Damian.

Dick tugged Jason into his arms a final time before letting him go. “You’ll find her.”

---

Jason frowned at the red haired man from his hiding place amongst the shadows.

“Where oh where has my little Alice gone? She was so sweet, so tiny, so much fun to play with.” Tetch’s voice would have sent shivers down a lesser man’s spine, but Jason would never forget the night he met Pixie.

Jason silently leapt down from his hiding place and pulled a gun on Tetch. He felt a sinister smile spread across his face and tilted his head in a rather Joker-esque manner. “Watcha doin’ Hatter?”

Tetch jolted before a crazed laugh poured from his lips. “Oh my little Alice’s white rabbit! So pleasant to see you. It really has been so long, hasn’t it? Since poor old Joker sunk his claws in you and ruined you.” A manic smile spread across his face and he mimicked Jason’s head tilt. “Oh but my poor sweet Alice’s white rabbit has grown up to be such a dick.”

Jason growled and moved his gun to put a round in Tetch’s arm. “Back to Arkham with you. And tell Joker, he won’t get a second chance.” Jason hauled the bleeding man up and off they went.

---

Jason had dropped Tetch off just inside the gates and set off the alarm before booking it in the opposite direction. He systematically checked the city, going over all of the known haunts for street kids before going over all of his haunts with Pixie. He just wanted to find something that would lead him to wherever his sister had been carted off to. He was sitting on the roof of a building when he felt a presence looming over him. “If B sent you, you can fuck off. If Joker sent you, I’ll break your kneecaps.”

The presence, who turned out to be The Riddler, sat beside Jason. “Neither of them sent me. Neither of them would send me. I’m a free agent. However, we have something in common. Our affection for Hatter’s girl.”

Jason turned to look at the rogue. “Hatter’s girl?”

Ed smiled and pulled out a worn photo from his wallet. He held the photo so that Jason could see it and smiled. “She saw me. The real me.”

Jason glanced at the rogue with a newfound affection and smiled. “She was funny like that.”

---

Jason smiled as he looked around his new apartment. He had rented an apartment with three bedrooms, on the off chance he would find his sister again and one of his brothers stayed over because Damian, his little nugget, refused to sleep alone.

Jason straightened his shoulders before straightening his clothing in his closet. He was excited, today was the day his little nugget was coming home. He walked from his bedroom to the kitchen and wiped down the counters again.

A knock sounded on his door before his excited nine-year-old babbled something in Arabic before just opening the door.

“Little Nugget!” Jason smiled and crouched to accept the nine year old into his arms before standing up and adjusting his little nugget onto his hip. “Replacement.” He cleared his throat before looking over at his older brother. “Dickiebird.”

Tim smiled and shrugged. “Do you mind if I crash here for a while?”

Jason smiled. “Mi casa es su casa.” He smiled as his excited nine-year-old babbled at him. “Ya hayati, I’m going to put you down now. Okay? You can either stay here or go find our room.”

Damian ran off to go find their room with excited laughter falling from his lips.

Jason turned back to his brothers and schooled his features. “Before you say anything, I’ve been the only one to show that boy any affection since he was born. Also, he sleeps better if he’s laying down with someone.”

---

The four brothers sat on the roof of the apartment building, Damian on Jason’s lap and Tim leaning against Dick’s side.

“Thank you for being here for me. I appreciate your support.” Jason smiled at his brothers and the four just watched the sky for a while before going back into Jason’s apartment. He would always search for his little sister, but until he found her he was grateful that he had his brothers to help watch his back.

Taglist

@southamericangothamite @maribat-is-lifeblood @mystery-5-5 @our-preciousss @mochegato @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @2confused-2doanything @wannajointhecrabcult @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmymind @moonlightstar64 @justafanwarrior @mialuvscats @pheony1882 @pepelachanel

Questions? Wondering why Damian is so, not normal Damian? Let’s keep in mind he was six when Jason joined them and it’s been three years.

#maribat #mlb crossover #ml crossover #ml x dc #mlb x dc #gothamite!Marinette #platonic sibling jasonette #Safety Found in Red Sleeves #SFiRS

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Single Dad Jihoon

A/n: omg i haven’t written for seventeen in so lonngggggg. but like MY MAN^^. also i was debating making this a smau? but i thought I would just format it like the others. I really hope you like it!

Requested by: @septicfabgi

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams (Tag List is Open)

Warnings: None

Genre: single dad!au, romance, fluff

So single dad Jihoon

gets zero sleep

he has the latest state of the art coffee machine

has a panic attack when he runs out of caffeine

his daughter, Yoona, is everything to him though

shes about three years old, almost four

her mom just wasn’t ready for being a parent so Jihoon took care of his daughter

having put a lot of money in saving Jihoon could actually afford a pretty nice house for his daughter to grow up in

it even had a pool in the back

(one the rest of the boys thoroughly took advantage of)

Yoona is an angel and she is a complete daddy’s girl

Jihoon is also WHIPPED for his daughter

often falls asleep with bows in his hair or cheap makeup on his cheek

He trys to work from home as often as he can

jihoon even installed a full recording studio in the house so boys could come over and record at his home instead of the company

when he did have to leave the house, he tried to take his daughter with him wherever he could

carats loved seeing woozi with his little girl

she was always featured in the behind the scenes of dance practices and mv shootings

she sometimes manages to get in the backs of shots in mvs

carats love playing spot Yoona when Seventeen has a comeback

she is quite the shy little girl though, around people she doesn’t know

she doesn’t like going to fansigns so Jihoon usually has to hire a sitter or ask the staff to keep watch of her backstage

while she is shy she loves dancing so Jihoon put her in ballet lessons

he makes sure to always come to her recitals and most of the boys come to

Minghao and Seungkwan standing up in the back with their phones recording and cheering their heads off as soon as the see Yoona’s little pink tights step out on stage

Jihoon legit having to pull them back down in their seats

but he always gets his little girl flowers after a performance and lets her pick where they all go out to eat after

Hoshi, S.Coups, and Seungkwan help out the most when Jihoon really needs it

since Hoshi works the most with Jihoon while recording, he became Yoona’s unspoken God Father

he gets her little tiger print outfits which drives Jihoon crazy

“SOONYOUNG! WHAT THE HE-”

“Bro no cursing in front of your daughter”

Jihoon looks angrily between Hoshi and Yoona

“No more tiger print.”

“What about cheetah?”

“NO!”

Yoona loves swimming in the pool

she often convinces her father to throw pool parties for the members so they will come over and play with her

she practically lives in the pool so Jihoon had to install cameras in the backyard in case she slips past her sitter to go swimming

okay so how you met Jihoon

you were working as a nanny

you were in between households when you got a call from your friend (the nanny Jihoon usually hired)

she told you she had to go out of town to help with some family issues but the single dad she usually worked for desperately needed a sitter for the week.

you parked your car in the driveway of the very nice modern style house, completely in shock

“This is the right address right?” you mumbled double checking the text she sent you

usually, single parents that hired you lived in very small houses or apartments

not two story modern houses with a nice Tesla parked in the driveway

you hesitantly knocked on the door

a very handsome man, with wet dyed blonde hair opened the door with a tired smile

“Are you the nanny?”

there were happy screams coming from inside the house and splashes

“Um...yes! I’m Y/n. F/n said you needed me-”

“Yes, thank goodness. Come in. She’s in the back.”

the man quickly ushered you inside and out to the backyard

“I’m Jihoon by the way. Hoshi is playing with Yoona in the pool.”

“Oh! How long have you two been together?”

he stopped in his tracks looking at you with wide eyes and nervous laugh

Jihoon looked you up and down while running a hand through his damp hair

“OH NO! I’m not- We aren’t- ....Hoshi is just...We are in the same band. He is supposed to be working with me in the studio with me this week, but I can’t leave Yoona alone all day.”

you nodded and followed him through the nice kitchen and out to the pool

you saw the cutest little girl playing with another man with jet black hair

“Daddy!”

the little girl that looked very much like the man who answered the door swam to the edge of the pool and reached for him.

jihoon pulled up the three year old and introduced the two of you

you hit it off and you were spending every minute with Yoona

every day of the week was spent at Jihoon’s home taking care of Yoona while he worked in the home studio or at the company

Jihoon always made sure to come home early enough or take a break long enough to tuck Yoona in when it was time for bed

After knowing Jihoon for two weeks you had gotten pretty close and you were certain about one thing

He was a workaholic

“Take a break Jihoon.”

He shrugged at your words as you closed the door to Yoona’s room.

“I’m fine.”

“Jihoon, take a break. Your deadline isn’t until this weekend and Hoshi said that the album is practically finished already.”

You pushed him into the kitchen and forced him to sit down on a stool.

the two of you talked over a bottle of wine Jihoon had stashed away after his housewarming party

you still found it insane that he already owned this entire house and he was only 23

after that night talking with Jihoon after Yoona had gone to bed was a nightly occurrence

Eventually Jihoon found himself enjoying your company in ways that he shouldn’t when he was actively paying you to take care of his daughter.

He just fell in love with how caring you were

he loved how happy you made him

However he knew he couldn’t make a move if he was still hiring you

“Y/n you’re fired.”

You looked wide eyes at Jihoon before eyeing Yoona in your lap

She was giving her father a confused look too.

“What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, no. Look, I really really like you. And it’s really not appropriate for me to have a crush on someone I’m employing.”

Suddenly being fired wasn’t so bad.

You told Yoona to go play in her room, so you could talk to her dad alone.

“Yeah, I guess sleeping with my boss would be pretty bad.”

Jihoon blushed at your words but smiled and wrapped you in his arms.

He pressed his lips against yours hand cupping your cheek

“Oh, you are so fired.” He whispered with a smile against your lips

The two of you began dating after he fired you

A new nanny was hired but they only last a few months

Jihoon insisted you move in with him and Yoona since you spent most nights there anyway

You took care fo Yoona like your own daughter which allowed Jihoon to work more outside the house

He would come home to dinner made hot and just for him, his daughter asleep or waiting for him in the living room.

Your relationship was kept a secret for a long time because Jihoon was really ready to share you with the whole yet

he wanted you all to himself....occasionally sharing you with his little girl

when your relationship did come out, he wanted to make sure that you weren’t planning on leaving him any time soon.

he would think long and hard about it

one night the two of you were just sitting on the couch one night, Yoona asleep on your lap and watching a random cartoon when Jihoon stood up all of a sudden and returned from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne and two glasses

“What are you doing?”

He shushed you pointing to his sleeping daughter in your arms. He popped the bottle and poured two glasses

Jihoon then got down on one knee and took your hands in his

“Y/n will you marry me? I want you part of my family, our family. I’m in love with you more than you will ever know and I know Yoona loves you just as much as I do. So, what do you say? It’ll be kind of awkward if you say no, because....I already opened the champagne.”

You laughed and pulled him in for a kiss “Yes”

Jihoon felt sure in your relationship and felt better about letting the world know

He was happy with his family and he didn’t care what the world though

Requests are open! Just send an ask!

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