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zhongliologist · 4 years

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Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!!

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?” you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…” he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes. He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #s!ns

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ryosmne · 3 years

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Safe Place.

Yakuza! Nanami Kento x gn Reader

Hello everyone, this fic is in collaboration with my dear friend @sunfloweroranges you can read their fic here :D

I kind of changed my writing style for this one, I'm trying out different things so let me know how it goes, feedback is always welcome, that's all from me hope you have a good time reading 💜

Summary: You're clueless

Warnings: mentions of blood, mature themes, mentions of murder and head chopping, language, yandare Nanami if you squint.

Grocery shopping is never fun when you're alone, especially making your way back home in the cold winter months, it gets dark so early.

A slight twist of your gut had made you walk back home in a faster pace. Turning your head every couple of steps, you never saw anything, yet this feeling never left even when you got through the main entrance of your apartment complex.

The elevator was broken once more, and you were already out of breath from rushing back, as you took the first steps up, your next door neighbor, who looked way too scary for your own liking bumped your shoulder on his way down.

Jeez he's in a hurry today.

Mumbling a quick apology, even though he was the one that was at fault, you quickly found the strength to run up the stairs and lock yourself in. Some short of commotion was coming from outside the complex that you didn't really care to hear.

That pink haired guy, your neighbor, who was build like a damn door, always got himself in some short of trouble, hearing him yell profanities or even throwing punches was a far too often occurance.

Why did he have to live right next door?

It's safe to say you did the best to keep the hell away from him, not that he seemed to bother with you, neitherless he was fucking scary.

Kento was ten minutes late, he was never late, except for the days that he had to clean up someone's mess, the days someone underestimated the power he held or the days someone dared speak your name. He wouldn't even tell them 'dont you dare speak their name' or anything along those lines. There was no warning when it came to mentioning yo,u only taking immediate action.

Naturally you were in the dark about all of that, Kento -or Ken as you would often referred to him as- kept you far far away from the darkness of his world. That was his way of keeping you safe and at the same time having you as his personal way out of his work and in his defence he didn't completely lie about his employment. He was an investor, just a bit of a different stock market than what you had in mind.

As far as you knew, Nanami Kento was an extremely successful business man, he chalked up his tattoo covered body as just his preferred style, since he is this good at what he does, he likes to say that his work place doesn't give a damn about his ink covered skin and the expensive gifts that he always pressures you to accept are just another benefit of his high profile job.

"Darling, I hope you didn't start without me." Wrapping your arms around your extremely sweet boyfriend you left a small kiss on his lips watching as the corners tagged upwards in an equally sweet smile the moment your lips left his.

"Of course not Ken, it's Friday remember?" Fridays are the established date nights in, you and Kento cook and dine together. More often than not you end up slow dancing to some jazz, or with you laying on his chest Infront of the fireplace, listening to his heartbeat, talking about life while he strokes your hair until the dawn.

Tossing him an apron, after he -like the gentleman he is- tied yours, you got to work on today's dish: Chorizo carbonara.

"You're never late on Fridays, bad day at work?"

You spoke while slicing some papers.

"Yeah, the stocks are all over the place and it's getting me stressed, but it's our night darling, anything else isn't of importance."

Kento always found a way of distracting you when it came to talking about his day, he is always quite vague and when his palm rested on the small of your back gazing down at you with those adoring eyes, it's hard to keep focused on anything other than him.

"Why don't you tell me about your day love?"

He always asked you that, Kento is in awful need of the calm that the mundane life you live carries. He craves to feel that, he still loves the power he holds over people, the way the mare mention of his name makes others tremble in fear of what the man will do to them shall they not comply to his requests -more accurately orders-

"Thankfully work was pretty good today, I finished grocery shopping so we could cook, I got us that wine you really loved too. The neighbor is being weird again but that's not new, maybe moving out isn't a bad idea."

Everything was like music to Kento's ears untill that last sentence. You had mentioned moving out before, but Kento always found a way to convince you not to. The rent was good, this house is close to your work, he would always reason with you until you changed your mind. He never pushed too hard fearing that you'd suspect something, but you only smiled and ended up agreeing with him.

You see, unbeknownst to you, your weird neighbor is Nanami's most trusted man, he's protecting you twenty four hours a day, even as you walked up the stairs today he dealt with another threat that was headed right your way. No, you cannot move before you know everything, but Nanami can't bring himself to break your bubble, he loves you and you love him, the real him, he would never scare you by letting you take a peek at his point of view. Maybe he should run away with you afterall.

"He doesn't look that bad, love. I'm sure he wouldn't hurt a fly."

Nanami knew he was capable of a lot more than that but it was true, your neighbor was an ally and although he would hurt lots of people, you were on the list of people to be protected and Sukuna took his bosses orders very seriously.

"Besides, my love, anyone would have to get through me first before attempting to lay a finger on you."

With the way his lips moulded on yours and his velvety tone, how could you not believe every single word that just came out of his mouth. Kento would die before letting anything happen to you, that little statement helped bring you comfort.

"You must really love my house Ken, can you pass me the butter?"

The moment your back was turned, Kento let out a breath of relief. That little voice in his head he always pushed away yelled at him to tell you everything, he burried it in the back of his mind once more.

"Can you believe that? I swear she drives me insane- Ken are you listening to me?"

That was weird, Kento always gave you his full attention. Perhaps he was tired today.

"Yes darling, you were talking about that Satoru guy, the one who annoys you at work."

Yeah you were, but that was while you were still eating, about twenty minutes ago.

"Babe, you're tired, let's go to bed, we can pick up where we left off another time, you need to rest."

The habit of staying up all night on Fridays had really stuck, but sleeping when your partner clearly needed to, is very much on schedule although it rarely ever happened.

Getting up from the sofa, tagging at Kento's arm to follow you to the bedroom had Kento irritated at how concerned you grew for him. He still feels you're too good at times, all the time to be exact.

You only heard him sigh before he pulled you back on the sofa, having lost your balance in his sudden move, you landed on top of him.

"Stay with me a little longer my love, I'm sorry I spaced out, I'm all ears for you now."

Another invitation for you to just talk to him, he didn't care about what. Kento loved the tone of your voice, how it changed pitch depending on what emotion you held or what you were talking about. His voice was quite monotone, like everyone else's around him. He had to grow thick skin and throw away all short of feelings, but everything he locked away years ago came rushing back the moment he spilled coffee on you six months ago. You hadn't even complained about the burning sensation on your skin as he helped clean you up, you just gave Kento a smile telling him that everything was fine and these things happen.

In his world they don't, someone can breathe the wrong way and lose their head, all it took was your damn smile and that statement to get him to need something different than what he had. Kento never thought he missed a thing, he found out how wrong he was that very day.

Sometimes he wished he never took the time to help you out back then, but that was only because he didn't know that he'd put you through all this.

"So I'm just sat there in a staring contest over the last price of cake, I won but my eyes still feel a bit dry."

You laughed, Kento stared down at you with a fond smile, your head on his lap and your hands tangled in his, brushing his knuckles and examining every bit of his skin with such care, God you were beautiful all over.

While Kento's hands were very interesting a small detail in the cuff of his shirt got your stomach to drop.

"Ken, is that blood?"

He swore he cleaned up, he always cleaned up before coming back to you, he never missed a single splatter. Maybe rushing home after not one, but two people tried to harm you today put him on edge.

He had missed a single drop. He was absolutely disgusted that even that tiny part of someone who dared to say the name y/n out loud infront of him and even threatened your existence was anywhere near you.

"Sweetheart that's probably tomato sauce from cooking, thanks for pointing it out, you know I hate staining my clothes, I'll go change."

Your meal didn't contain tomato sauce.

Why was your gut telling you that something was off?

Kento seemed a bit tense tonight, was it just a bad day at work?

He never really conversed on his profession. The huge dragon that started from the back of his thigh, ended on his left shoulder covering his entire back was just his 'style'. You swore you heard him talk to the pink haired man who lived next door but he told you he was on the phone. Everything little bit of suspicious behaviour you had previously payed no mind to, came to you. On top of that what was his reason to lie about a drop of blood on his sleeve? He could've said it was a paper cut or something, Why did he lie?

Behind the bathroom door Kento only cursed at him self.

Why didn't he lie better?

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #yakuza nanami #au nanami kento #jjk drabbles #jjk anime #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen oneshot

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise!

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you. MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai: MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something: MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult.

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest. (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”

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qelizhus · 3 years

Note

You requested so...

Why do you love silicone heart so much?? (feel free to ramble, I wanna hear)

-@zoya-writes

helloooo posting an answer to this after literally forever. i cannot what remember may have prompted this but thank u very much for sending the ask. i've been thinking about silicone-heart recently, although i haven't been able to work on at it at all, so i figured why not answer this ask.

in case you're still interested:

silicone-heart is very dear to me because of what it represents! it has changed very much, especially between conception and drafting (altho also during drafting), but it has become an expression of sorts of growing up and coming to terms with oneself (myself) and my general emotional state... i think it would be honest to say i was rather depressed, for a lack of a better word, during middle school and that definitely carried over into high school as well. and, like, i do still have my moments but -- i do think growing older and entering uni and whatnot has broadened my perspective a bit and allowed me to come to terms? understood? the people and circumstances around me a bit better.

and this is all very roundabout. i guess, to put it clearly, the journey of silicone heart represents, in part, the progression of some of the emotions i've had and is angled to propose the idea that -- if not now and not in the certain future -- i will get better, i will feel better, your goals are achievable, there is hope for the future.

like, silicone-heart has the eight years alone with only nuisance (or, the bane of her existence, as it is named for the first eight or so chapters [ha. i didn't notice that. i should double-check if its eight chapters or seven]) and that leaves an impact even after coming home. nuisance stays; nuisance doesn't leave. even by the end of the story, nuisance won't have left; silicone-heart will be starting to come to terms with the complicated feelings b/w them and how nuisance influenced their relationship with their family and will understand that until those complicated feelings have settled a bit -- and the narrative is telling you that they can be settled, because that is the hope! -- nuisance is there to stay. you know how it goes. there are conversations to be held -- and those conversations can be held, and they will be listened to, and with enough patience and courage, progress will be made, and we will all be the better for it -- and work to be done, but it is doable. it is a slow, deep love: one that i know exists, have begun to start seeing, and desire to see it brought to the surface. enough rambling!

this might be less of an aspect of why i like silicone heart and more of a necessity, but the degree of separation between my problems and silicone-heart's -- there are similarities and there are differences -- grants me a little broader of a sandbox to explore these ideas and skew things in a certain direction and whatnot. and i also think it allows me to learn more. this is all very vague, and i apologize, i just don't know how specific to get ahaha. but i like that, because i think my "best" pieces (ex. golden child, growing bodies) were the closest to me, which i don't like. the whole appeal of -- and skill in -- writing fiction, i think, is to write about things that are not you. so the dream is, with silicone-heart, to learn how to step outside of that bubble and create something good.

the other thing about silicone-heart is that it started as (still is?) meaning to be a novella and undecided in genre. with the odes, for example, i wanted it to be fantasy -- and i was really into epic fantasy at that point in time -- and so felt a little compelled to stick to the genre even though i sucked at writing that kind of thing. then i felt my work was dry and was overdone -- because i was tiring of the genre -- and wanted to switch it up, but then i had so much foundation that i had no idea what to do with and didn't want to scrap entirely. and yeah, silicone-heart was initially fantasy-based too, and it is still is to some degree, but i've given myself a little more freedom in terms of genre or structure, and that has really been more fun and also more productive. i can figure out what i'm good at (hint: it's not big casts. no wonder i only have five characters here, two of whom i forget half of the time) and what i enjoy to read and write (coincidence because i started getting into short fiction around the same time, but i've encountered so many genres and styles). so from that aspect, it's been a lot more fun.

there are still.. doubts and reservations i have about silicone-heart, and it's not like i didn't enjoy my previous wips, but... i do think that silicone-heart represents more of my current perspectives and that working on it allows me to think critically about said perspectives and myself, and i like that.

#holy shit sorry for this word vomit #thanks for the ask once again!!!!#maybe soon i will be able to write for it.#asks answered #zoya writes #itsybitsybookworm #decadence #(the wip tag just for the fun of it lmaoo)#qtalks #edit: the naming happens in ch7. draft 2 ill change that.

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joontier · 4 years

Text

The King’s Guard | Chapter 2

–> Pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

–> Rating: R

–> Genre/warnings: M U C H A N G S T; y’all I even cried while writing this sksksk why do I torture myself like this; slightly graphic mentions of dead people, mentions of blood, super slight gore; suggestive language, SMUT AGAIN (voyeurism, shit why do i expose myself too much, petting, unprotected sex, kitchen sex)

–> Word count: 8.8k

–> A/N: Korean vocabulary used will be placed at the end of the chapter :-) Also, all history indicated here is fictitious, then again, it is fan fiction after all. ALSO, GOOD LUCK WITH THE END OF THE CHAPTER ;) tell me whatcha think!!!

The King’s Guard - Masterlist || navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 2

The warmth in the room makes you stir in bed, the sun’s rays attempting to peek through the paper windows creating too much discomfort for you to continue your beloved slumber. As you turn your body, you see a scroll accompanied by a carnation on your bedside table. Hastily reaching for the scroll, your other hand clutches onto the blanket to cover your chest.

Your stomach drops. With trembling hands, you open the message. No, No, No. NO!

“My love,

Truthfullly, I do not know where to begin, nor do I know why I am writing this in the first place. What I can be somehow certain of is that I do not have full confidence that my plans shall come into fruition. I guess this letter shall provide me with the least solace for my judgments. The matters of the south have cost me sleepless nights and days, moments that I could regrettably have spent with you, and for that I am truly sorry. It pains me that you might have perceived last night a selfish act to heed to the wants of the flesh but know that every word I have uttered during our throes of passion was not made in jest.

I will not have to lie – you carrying my children, the two of us finally creating a family – the thought alone gives me unparalleled happiness. In the near future, I desire twelve children with you representing the twelve lunar animals, that is, if you allow me to do so. I will be satisfied with eleven, if you must.

Great is the pain that I have to bear with my decision, but great too is the weight of my duties to my country. You of all people have reminded me of that. It is treason against the country for me not to find a way to make amends, yet is treason against my heart to have left you like this.

Alas, I too am scared myself with this journey that I must take, but your love and prayers shall give me strength. My queen, I ask you to not worry much for I did not come unprepared, for I have brought with me the greatest warriors known to our nation, and they shall stand by my side, should the time come that our peaceful exertions shall lead to one of violence.

If, however, may our ancestors and the gods forbid, that the circumstances shall not permit me to return to you, the only love of my life, I cannot ask you remain alone without me in this cruel world because that would be most selfish of me. Live and indulge yourself in the pleasures of life, my dove, continue your flight in this world even if it no longer has me in it.

If I truly have gone for good, I want you to be happy. I am begging you to be happy. Find a man that shall love you from the tiny mole by your forehead to the tips of your toes. Find a man that shall cherish you for your entire being, find someone that shall bestow upon you love more than you deserve, just as you have done the same to me and to the people around you.

Let this reassurance console you that the happiest days of my life have been from your love and affection, and that I die loving only you and with a fervent hope that our souls shall be reunited after this and will have to part no more. Just because I would have passed away does not mean I am not with you, I will always be here looking over you, keeping you safe. Should the day come that you succumb to the sadness of my loss, just close your eyes and I will be by your side in an instant.

This is goodbye to your kisses that shall continue to linger on my lips even if I could not have them again. This is goodbye to your caresses that have kept me warm during the harsh, cold winters. This is goodbye to your endless patronizing that has grounded me through the many decisions I had to make. And finally, this is goodbye to you, my angel, my sweet carnation.

With every word written comes forth a tear, and I fear that I may not finish this letter without wetting the entire page. I will have to leave shortly, and now I will leave your security to the hands of our new captain. He has my trust.

Know that I would have traded a decade of my life just to spend ten more breaths with you. I love you, my queen, with all that I was, with all that I am, and with all that I ever will be.

Seokjin”

A loud, broken sob escapes your lips. Your cheeks become wet with tears, visible wet patches staining your blanket. You let yourself fall back to the bed, body crumpling in anguish. How could you have let him go? You curse at yourself for letting sleep take over you again earlier, when he was already at arm’s reach, so close to forbid him from leaving.

You stay like that on the bed for a few moments, body quaking with distress and clutching onto the piece of paper close to your chest. This was it. Although there was still a part of you that Seokjin will come home to you in one piece, your brain is already betraying you with images of your husband covered in blood, left lifeless in the middle of the road.

Crying harder at the image, you try to muffle them with your blankets that vaguely smell of Seokjin. Your chest constricts. You already know he had intentions of visiting the south even with your constant reminders of the dangers of the south. Your heart clenches when you recall the one time you had argued about it.

‘It’s a lost cause, Seokjin.’ You already felt that one thing was going to lead to another and this conversation was definitely going to end up in an argument.

“What I am I supposed to do here then? Stand and join festivities while my own people are being attacked by rebellious troops? While riots occur on the daily? While there are people dying of hunger on the streets?”

“No! I- That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what am I to do then?!”

“I just—If you go there…” You hiccup, unable to continue when your lips start to tremble. You choke as you suppress a sob, covering your face with your hands as you start to bawl your heart out. Seokjin flees toward you, apologizing profusely as he had probably scared you with the risen pitch of his voice. “Shhh,” he engulfs you in a hug, pulling you close to him.

You begin to calm down after some time, the warmth of Seokjin’s body easily consoling you. Your husband doesn’t let go when you finally catch your breath and your grip tightens around his waist, creasing his durumagi.

With your voice slightly muffled as your mouth is pressed against your husband’s chest, you continue talking, knowing that Seokjin will have no problem comprehending your words. “I’ve lost everyone because of them Seokjin. My father, my real mother, my friends…” you sniff, wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your jeogori. “Please,” you beseech, “I can’t lose you to them too,” your voice cracks at the thought, eyes brimming with tears once more.

“I won’t let that happen, love.” He doesn’t know that.

You feel your chest starting to heave again, Seokjin slowly guides you to the bed, seats you both, and lets you lay your head on his lap as he rests his own on the wall adjacent to the bed. Gently, he strokes your hair until you finally, truly calm down this time, silent tears now rolling down your cheeks.

The words are heavy on your lips, every emotion rolling off your tongue as you say the words you dread the most. “They’re going to kill you Seokjin.” You take his hand and rest it against your cheek, his hand still seemingly larger with the way your two hands are clutching onto it. You continue with bated breath, “Maybe even before you enter the southern gates, maybe even before you get a single step out of the capitol...” Your voice comes down to a whisper when you repeat your earlier words. “They are going to kill you.”

You tilt your head a little to take a good look at your husband. You see the faint stubble just under his chin. He probably hasn’t shaved yet with the lack of free time on his hands. Shamelessly, you always imagine what he’d look like with a beard but you’re willing to bet your life that he’d be just as handsome as he is now. He keeps on shaving it, much to your dismay, countering that he doesn’t want you to feel and discomfort or itch when he kisses you. You’ll have to leave your bearded Seokjin fantasies somewhere in the future. If the future still has Seokjin in it.

In the past, the five major cities of Korea never got along. It was more of an unspoken rivalry for years on end between the kings and their subjects. People from the east took pride on their agricultural lands and livestock, the westerners’ livelihood depends heavily on lumber, northerners brag about their coal mining and fishery, the south leads the nation’s masonry and defense, and finally, the capitol is the center of textile and is otherwise known as the home of the scholars.

Combined together, this nation would have been unconquerable. But these royals are still human beings and human beings are vulnerable to temptation, constantly fueled by the idea of acquiring something that another does not have.

Unfortunately, a nation with citizens that had no sense of nationalism was the perfect target, the easiest to penetrate for the colonizers. The promises of an alliance to a foreign nation seemed to great an offer to decline. Fools. Just like that, the foreigners tricked each king to go against the other cities – their own people, their own blood. Empty promises drilled into empty heads. Blinded by inane vows of wealth and power, these people who call themselves leaders never knew they were being deceived altogether.

That is, until King Seokwoo of the capitol, Seokjin’s father, realized the deception early enough to stop the war but too late to pacify the nation’s internal turmoil. With his heart and dignity on the line, the brave king of the capitol had gone to the other kings to make them realize their mistakes, their greed, and their shameless thirst for power.

Nobody wanted to believe him at first, not when he too was a part of it all. He apologized in court – the one thing a king never does. He put his pride on the line for the country he loves, bowing his head in front of the other kings, and their respective advisors. King Seokwoo knew he was going to lose his credibility like this with his heart and pride on his sleeve, but only he knew, and only he understood, that a king should not be loyal to the throne and the power it holds, but to his country.

Only when he revealed the scrolls of plans he stole from the colonizers that they collectively decided to temporarily set aside their present caprices and decree a pact for the good of the nation. For once in a very long time, the kings had agreed on one thing.

That night, they had agreed to choose a king to lead the fight against the colonizers – the king who would lead Korea back to greatness. Three kings, in honor of Seokwoo’s bravery and humility, chose him to be the leader of the nation. Only one king of a city voted against Seokwoo as King of Korea – your father.

“My Queen?” A soft voice calls from outside your door. Haesoo.

“Leave, Haesoo.”

“Jungjeon-mama, please. You have not left your room all morning, and lunch—”

“I said leave!”

You recoil the moment the words spill from your mouth. You hadn’t meant to snap at her, she was your favorite court lady after all. She was stubborn, above all things, and you likened her to your younger self that’s why she earned your favor the most. But her adamancy only causes her more trouble, especially in times like these. Perhaps her slight insensitivity came with her youth? You’re certain that you’ve caused worry because of your audible wailing earlier, but company was the last thing you needed right now.

“Yes my Queen.” She replies, voice small.

You don’t know how long you stay in bed like that, watching your chest rise and fall under the covers with every breath. Your head is swirling in emotions – fear, anger, misery. As you continue to stare into the ceiling, your stomach grumbles so you deem it wise that you have at least one meal for today - just enough to satiate your hunger and give you strength to face the rest of the day. But not before indulging yourself in your favorite bath first.

You stay much longer in the bath today – letting the water cause wrinkles in the pads of your fingers. Shoving your husband’s image to the back of your head temporarily, your thoughts drift to other the other predicaments you have to face while Seokjin is away. ‘You have to be strong,’ you mutter to yourself. For Seokjin. For the future. For Korea.

The court ladies get startled when you suddenly rise from the pool, one of them hurriedly draping a towel over you. You let her lead the way to a dressing room where your royal garments are neatly folded on a table. Staring at your reflection on the mirror, your eyes linger on the red marks littered across your torso. You feel your chest constrict one more time. Taking a deep breath, you repeat to yourself. ‘For Seokjin. For the future. For Korea.’

Chaeyoung waits until you have worn your undergarments and helps you with the rest of your hanbok. You can feel the nervousness radiating off her, clammy hands tying the ribbons on your dress. You can’t really blame her; this was probably the first time they have seen you this cold and distant. You usually made small talk with the court ladies, genuinely curious about their individualities and because they’re the closest you can get to your subjects.

Certainly, Seokjin’s leave also has the whole palace on edge. Everybody was aware of what was going on in the south, and with their king’s sudden absence this morning, word has been going around in the palace. You’re thankful that the palace workers are discreet with their whispering, but these wooden walls were never thick enough to maintain secrecy between two people.

You leave the room as soon as Chaeyoung finishes and you come face to face with a familiar red and white uniform. “Wangbi,” Captain Jung greets as he bows his head. “Captain.” You acknowledge, finding yourself looking up at him when you do so – he was taller than you expected him to be.

“I am under the King’s orders to watch you wherever you go, my Queen.” He tails after you when you start walking.

“And does that include the private royal baths Captain?” You turn to face him again.

He gets flustered at your question, quickly averting his gaze from you. Looking down, the captain shakes his head, muttering under his breath something along the lines of ‘security’ and ‘king’s orders’.

You don’t know what urged you to tease him like that – probably because of his innocent-like features that makes him so tease-worthy, but since his arrival and inauguration as captain of the royal guards, you can’t help but get drawn to the man. Sure, he was attractive with attributes of youthful exuberance on his face, that, and that he was a finely built man, taut muscles hiding underneath those silken robes. At least, that’s what you presume from listening to the whispers among the court ladies.

They also said he’s had quite the reputation from where he came from in the East, famous for his looks and even more famous for his ways of luring skirts to his bed. So, you’ve heard. Genuinely surprised at how these rumors even came out in the first place, it still makes you laugh when you recall the obscenity of it all, despite the court ladies supposedly being the spitting image of modesty observed in the palace.

The rumors are true. You could easily attest to that as you have personally witnessed it once, how the captain could easily captivate women with his face alone. But his charm wasn’t the reason why you seem to magnetize towards the captain.

During their inauguration day, as you were too preoccupied with how dashing your husband looks in official robe, you hadn’t been paying attention to the event, let alone the emotional speech that the captain shared to the crowd. It was only when you caught sight of the scar on his left cheek that got you so curious. You wonder where you’ve seen that scar before. He looks familiar. He feels familiar. You can’t put a finger on it right now, but you certainly feel like you’ve known Jung Jungkook from somewhere, sometime in your past.

You don’t realize you’re lost in your thoughts when a hand suddenly pulls you back by your elbow, stopping you from walking straight to a wall. “Jungjeon-mama!” The lady beside you exclaims. “My Queen, are you okay?” The captain behind you asks, his grip now loosening on your elbow. You nod sheepishly, dismissing the whole fiasco with an awkward cough.

“You can go ahead, Chaeyoung. I’ll be back by sunset. Make sure dinner is ready by then.” The court lady nods curtly in acknowledgment and bows before leaving the both of you. You turn your head to look at Jungkook who continues to stand by your side. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, your Highness.”

You plan on spending the rest of your day in one of the most serene places in the palace. Besides yours and Seokjin’s garden, the doltap shrine is another place you head to for peace and quiet. The shrine, complete with a mini pavilion, is situated on a small hill, surrounded by the beauty of nature – a place so perfectly serene that only monks and royalty are allowed to visit to maintain its tranquility.

It’s significantly father than any other house or office in this palace that it requires quite a tedious, long walk and a boat ride across the Gaeun river. This is why you rarely visit the shrine, but on the days that you do, the wearisome trek is always rewarding. It’s perhaps part of the whole process of meditation, you presume, as the shrine is a place where you offer your greatest, deepest prayers.

The captain trudges behind you, unable to cope with your leisurely pace. He quickens his steps when he sees he’s falling behind, but when he deems he’s walking too close to you he slows his pace once more until he has to catch up again. You become curious at his strange feat, unable to stop yourself from asking him about it.

“Captain, have you not taken a leisurely walk like this before?”

“My deepest apologies, Mama. I am really not used to a pace like this.”

Who knew the greatly feared captain could be so mildly…amusing? Jungkook gets surprised when you let out a giggle after having stared at him for a moment at his confession. He is unable to stop the small smile etching into his face at the beautiful sound, deciding it’s something he wants to hear all day long.

“You are a mirthful one, Jung.”

There is a skip in the man’s heartbeat when he hears you say his surname – or, at least, the surname he’s been using since his arrival at the capitol. He supposes it satisfactory that he’s made you comfortable around him, enough for you to call him by his alias. Not like you were going to be on a first name basis anyways. Jungkook found it easier to keep up with your pace after your verdict.

You were beautiful. Well, you still are, and probably will be for a very long time. He wonders if you already had your portrait painted. It used to be a hobby he thoroughly learned and enjoyed from where he’s from and now it has blossomed into a business around his past village, selling portraits for a few silver coins. He takes pride in his paintings, having learned the skill from the virtuoso himself – his father. He was the first man in Korea to add colors to a drawing, bringing forth life to an inanimate illustration.

Even if Jungkook painted you though, it would probably be useless for him to do so, because a portrait - even if done on the finest paper or painted with the brightest colors, could never capture your real beauty, nor give justice to it. In the past, he had heard stories of what the queen of the capitol looked like, but none of these rumors had prepared him for the genuineness of it all. Your beauty was indescribable, but Jungkook only knew one description that fit you the best – that you are the epitome of a woman’s unadulterated pulchritude.

Jungkook could not question why the king is absolutely smitten with you, admittedly, the rest of the nation is. If you were a lady that belonged to the same class, he would have tried to capture your heart from the very start. Maybe in another life, perhaps. But to him, it wasn’t just your pretty face that made you so riveting.

Unlike any other woman in the nation, you were headstrong, refusing to submit to the societal morals and principles. You were the only woman who would stand proud and tall amongst a sea of men, and one gaze from you had the power to intimidate both man and woman alike. Undoubtedly, you were raised like that: to be the queen – with your childhood nurtured with doctrines and routines only afforded to a king in the making. That fact he knew all too well.

When you look to your left, he spots a red mark on your neck, just below the smooth slope of your jawline. He flushes at the sight of the rose-colored blotch staring back at him, the base of his neck turning red at the recollection of the events last night. Jungkook can see your lips moving as you talk but he can’t seem to hear you, let alone take his eyes off the love bite on your neck.

“Captain Jung?”

Jungkook coughs to mask his surprise, “Sorry, Jungjeon-mama. I thought I saw something in the woods. It must’ve been a squirrel or a small animal.” You nod your head in acknowledgement and reply, “We still must be wary. There are…people…who do not mean well…” your words fade, voice cracking at the thought of your husband. Jungkook notices your anxiety.

“I will protect you with my life, my Queen. Please do not worry.”

“Of course, Captain Jung. I believe you.” Giving him a small smile, you continue walking, your shoes softly squishing against the green dewy grass. It’s a beautiful day today: the sky is clear and the sun is out, compared to your heart which is now clouded with storms and thunder. You shall try not to dwell on your emotions today.

“So, enlighten me Captain.”

“Ah, but Mama, my life may not measure up to yours in terms of adventure.”

You raise an eyebrow at his reply. Your life story isn’t known to many, even a number of the citizens don’t even know you are a southerner. Gazing into Jungkook’s eyes, you look for any mysterious truth hiding beneath them, but you’re only faced with his curious doe-like eyes. You’re conflicted if you’re supposed to feel disappointed or not if he was truly a part of your past, but you’ll have to leave that for another time.

“Surely, it can’t be that uninteresting.”

“If you insist, Jungjeon-mama. But don’t complain if you fall asleep before we reach the shrine.” The captain knows he’s pushing the line by teasing you like this, but the way you roll your eyes at him tells him you feel otherwise.

He tells the story he’s practiced endless times lacing a few truths from his past. “Well, I belong to a family of four. My parents work in the fields and my brother and I would play in them all day long until my mother would call us back in for supper. During the Great Colonization, my father used to serve King Donggeun of the East…” He steps aside to make way, a hand shooting out to help you to an elevated part of the head of the bridge. You place your hand on his gratefully, your feet taking quite the leap.

He continues with his monologue, “My mother always told us that she never thought father would never survive the Great Colonization. Even before the pact, there had already been attacks on the borders, the rivalry too much for people who call themselves citizens of the same nation. He had come home greatly wounded one night and my mother was crying so much that she could barely treat my father’s wounds. He had even offered her a literal bloody hand with the treatment, causing my mother to cry more, complaining about how he could have found pleasantries at such a grievous time.”

“Thankfully, the pact has been completed before things ultimately became worse. He was called to fight again to drive off the colonizers, but with the people from all the cities fighting as one force, casualties from our troops were only at the minimum. He has fought side by side with King Deonggeun and even saved the late king’s life at one instance. He had been promoted to a higher rank since then.” He pauses his narrative momentarily when your hand hooks around his elbow, clutching onto him as you go down a light slope to where a narrow dock is situated.

The captain tries not to be obvious about his astonishment at your actions as he places his hand over it, supporting your balance when you place a foot inside the boat. “But with a promotion in the military ranks comes more visits in the palace, and more visits in the palace only lead to one thing: King Donggeun taking an interest in my mother.” Your hand flies to your mouth to mask your shock. And just moments ago, he thought his life wasn’t supposedly as colorful as yours?

When Jungkook finally seats himself, he grabs at the oars and starts to row. It would have been fun if Haesoo had gone with, as you would inevitably tease her with her ogling the captain. She would’ve gushed at how his muscles must ripple underneath the uniform, or how his chest puffs out with every row. As your favorite court lady occupies your thoughts, you reckon that you owe her an apology later.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened next?” The captain lets out a chuckle at your wide-eyed curiosity. “Of course, Mama. I am a man of manners. A story must have a beginning and an end.”

“King Donggeun tried to conceal his feelings at first. But the rumored loss of his wife was too great of a sadness for him to bear. And he longed for the kind of comfort only a woman could give. Soon enough, father noticed the king’s longing looks, knowing all too well the sentiments the king hid behind his eyes. After all, he too was a man in love and a firm believer of the famous saying ‘the eyes are windows to our souls’.” The captain says the words with such drama that you fail to suppress the giggle that escapes your lips. Jungkook’s own lips twitch, chest beaming with pride with the fact that he has made you laugh twice today.

“Things kept in hiding will always come out, one way or another. And so, the king ended up confessing his feelings to my mother. He had begged her to be his concubine, even when they both knew she was tied to another. She fled from the king’s arms that night in fear and confusion, telling the whole confession to my father with teary eyes.”

The captain slows his rowing, creating small ripples against the clear water.

“That same night, my father learned that love meant having to constantly make sacrifices for the better, even if we end up losing that which matters most in our hearts. What the king wants, the king gets,” the captain’s lips fall into a tight-lipped smile. “There was too much at risk, my father couldn’t say no to his own king. Needless to say, even if we did eventually get to live nearer the palace, mother’s visits became less frequent, and soon our mother became only a figment of our imagination.”

Each word of the captain struck at your heart. You had never expected so many shared similarities in your past. His eyes are swimming with emotion. Not once had you seen a royal guard like this, looking so vulnerable, so human in front of your eyes.

“With nothing to lose, the three of us left the eastern city and headed to the capitol. We begged for food and slept on the streets for days until a family took pity and welcomed us into their home. When the father of the family introduced himself as a royal guard, my father offered his services as payment for their kindness.”

When you’ve reached the other side of the river, Jungkook sets the oars aside before guiding you up to the dock. You wait under the shade of a nearby tree until he’s fixated the boat properly onto the dock. He approaches you, dusting his pants with his hands. “Where were we? Ah. The kind family. I, too, have also had a realization here in the capitol. Happiness does not last for long, so we have to learn how to live each day with glee and gratitude.” You both continue the walk, with each step getting closer to your destination.

“A few days after our arrival, my brother caught this incurable illness. We had consulted every physician in the city, but all our efforts were in vain. My father and I had to lay him to rest just when we thought we had started a new life here in the capitol.”

“My father? Like I had mentioned during our inauguration, my father sacrificed his life for his country. Because he loves our nation, and because he loves us. All he wanted was a bright future for me, and for my mom as well, though he’d never admit that out loud. He never stopped loving her, even when she exchanged her family for the kind of life we could never give her.”

“Well, Mama. Are you sufficiently enlightened now?” You stay quiet at first, reciting a prayer to the gods and to your ancestors and you place another stone on the pile of rocks.

“I am Jungkook. I am.”

The journey to the south was filled with dread from the very start. The troop left the capital in silence, every man anxious of what is to come. Or rather, who awaits their coming. Seokjin had not said anything before they exited the gates of the capital because he knew words of encouragement would have done nothing to soothe the disquietude evident amongst them. The company had chosen to take a shortcut through the woods, one that will allow them to reach their destination within a shorter period of time.

They already have been traveling for quite some time, yet it feels like they have been for days. There are far fewer villages near the woods where there are to pass, but Seokjin had not expected this particular village to be so different from the others.

Dust rises when the horses halt, Seokjin abruptly putting up his fist in the air. It’s eerily quiet. Empty stalls of goods stand with no merchant behind them. Houses feel empty, with no person coming out and about. A gust of wind passes them, like an omen being whispered into their ears. The hairs at the back of Seokjin’s neck rise.

“What happened here?” A guard from the front asks.

“Jeonha, look!” Another shouts, pointing to a nearby house. A boy comes forth and walks, limps rather, towards them. Seokjin dismounts from his horse and takes a few steps forward. He lets the child come to him, the king lowering on his knees to receive the child. The child approaches Seokjin with a steady pace and with one final step left, he loses all his strength and falls. Luckily, Seokjin’s reflexes are quick enough so he catches the child before he falls to the ground.

“It’s quiet now,” the child mumbles. He takes a deep breath, body quaking with exertion as he does. “They came here…took everything…killed everyone and…s-south,” Seokjin holds him tighter as the boy’s breathing shallows, “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He consoles, tears swelling in his eyes as he gently rocks the child in his arms. The boy’s chest stops heaving and he finally closes his eyes. The king’s fingers fly to the child’s neck, looking for a pulse. None. Seokjin’s brows come together in anger, his beautiful face contorting into one of rage.

He stands, the boy in his arms now seemingly smaller and lighter than before. “Namjoon, with me. The rest of you, check the village. See if anybody is still alive, go over every house, every room, every corner. If you see a southerner lurking around, bring him to me.” Seokjin orders. “And I’ll execute him myself.”

As the troop disperses, Seokjin commands Kim Namjoon to look for a shovel and follow him to nearby open lot afterwards. Thankfully, the king doesn’t need to tell the guard what to do. As Namjoon digs a hole, Seokjin gently lays the child on a wooden bench while he looks for a cloth to wrap him in. His heart breaks for this child – that the young boy had to go through so much at such a young age, and now at the time of his death, he couldn’t even be afforded with proper burial rites.

The burial was shorter than expected and Seokjin ends the rite with a prayer to his ancestors and the gods above. The pair sit beside the child’s makeshift resting place for a while, both in deep contemplation. Their reverie is cut short when another guard calls from behind, “Jeonha,” he calls again, breathless, “there is something you must see.”

He leads the pair through the woods and towards a small clearing, where the troop has gathered around. “What’s this?” Seokjin takes his steps cautiously, the group beginning to make way for the king. Once the path clears, Seokjin stops in his tracks. From his peripheral, he sees Namjoon’s failed attempt to not gag at the scene before them.

The villagers. The stench. The message.

Seokjin tries to close his eyes, wanting to forget he even saw something this terrible. But no, the image has already etched itself into his memory forever. He can’t even imagine what type of human would have the guts to do this…monstrosity?

Scattered across the clearing are the villagers, stacked on top of each other, the formation with a similarity uncanny with the rock formation in front of them. The villagers were piled behind the doltap, where one muddy hand from each pile reaches out, holding a scroll with the words written with the villager’s own blood. “You can never keep us out.”

Seokjin’s hands ball into fists as he realizes what instigated this massacre. During the height of the turmoil in the south, he had sent out a proclamation weeks ago to implore the entire nation to remain strong and as one amidst these trying times which put their patriotism to the test.

The doltap is a stack of stones, usually erected at village entrances – a natural representation of guardians of the village, keeping away the bad and inviting the good. It had been tradition for people to pile rocks on top of each other along with symbolisms of their intentions placed near the stack.

Since the proclamation, the citizens had been placing more and more objects in front of their shrines, like a bowl of rice grains or the emblem of the south. Inevitably infuriated with this new practice, the southerners wrecked village after village in rage, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake. These people are but a number from the villages they victimized. Seokjin is lucky this is first and only village he will see.

The sky is a purplish pink by the time they have finished the burial rites for the village. “The sun is setting,” Seokjin announces to the group, “we will take shelter and camp there, by the woods. It will not be smart to individually use the houses here.”

Nobody could sleep a wink that night, especially not the king. He supposed no one could ever, not when you had just witnessed such a horrific sight. He continues to stare at the moon, head swarming with endless thoughts. As he rests his head against the bark of the oak tree, Seokjin’s thoughts race to you, what could you possibly be doing in this hour, if you were thinking of him right now. If you’d taken supper or skipped your meals today. You always did that when you were upset, and he had no doubt you were.

“Namjoon,” Seokjin calls to the trusted guard. Namjoon has been like him the whole night, staring into the distance, curious what the future might hold for them.

“Namjoon.” He calls again, this time with a louder voice, successfully getting the younger man’s attention.

“Jeonha,” Namjoon turns, “my sincerest apologies, but the moon seems to have a wonderful glow tonight. Might this be a good sign?” The guard bows, shame coloring his face as he got caught preoccupied with other things on his mind.

“I too fervently wish for that…I…” He was not about to make the same mistake to Namjoon. Seokjin gets frustrated at the thought of always being a step behind the enemy. He’s made this mistake with Minseok, and he wasn’t about to do the same with Namjoon.

“You wanted to say something, my King?”

“I…I just wanted to thank you, for always being loyal to the throne.” Seokjin is all too aware of what the people are saying. They are his people after all. He ought to know them best. They’re blaming him for these agonizing events, if he just hadn’t sent that proclamation, then this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.

“Only because the throne is worth being loyal to.” Namjoon replies, not missing a beat.

“So,” the king moves to a lighter topic, not wanting to ruin the illustrious mood afforded by the bright sky like this night. “how is the romance in your life? Haesoo, is it?”

The younger man gets caught off-guard, startled at the king’s sudden inquiry and knowledge. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, jeonha,” Namjoon looks down, cheeks starting to tinge with a blush. ‘He can’t give this away’, the guard thinks, suddenly all too aware that the king is sitting right beside him. As all of them had taken a pledge of loyalty to throne and the throne alone, so a relationship between workers of the palace was considered taboo, at least, until Seokjin’s reign.

“Namjoon. I am speaking to you as a friend. And even if I did speak to you as king of the nation, who am I to take control of the matters of the heart? You yourself can’t seem to help it. What more of I?”

“Jeonha, please tell me. What does love feel like?”

“Love comes in many forms, my friend. In fact, it’s everywhere. Personally, I think it’s what makes the world go around, if the studies and calculations of astronomer Lee is correct. What we’re doing right now is love, love for our country, our citizens. The memorials we hold for our late relatives is also a commemoration of our love. Love is not exclusive to human relations though, there is love for animals, love for nature…” The king turns to face the young guard who blinks owlishly back at him.

“I know that wasn’t the kind of love you’re asking about. I’m getting there, worry not, my friend. I just needed context.” Seokjin looks away, partly embarrassed at himself. “As I was saying… there is one kind of love however that I treasure the most, and for me, it’s the kind of love that enraptures you the most: the love for a special person. I hate to say this, but it’s something so complex that it’s indescribable. It makes you feel plenty of emotions all at the same time. For instance, when you see her, you feel your heart pumping out of your chest, or sometimes your heart constricts at the realization that she’s yours and yours alone.”

“That wasn’t that much of a help was it?” Seokjin sighs defeatedly.

“Can I be honest with you, jeonha?” The king nods. “No, not really.” The pair chuckle at that, both relieved that at least they found something to laugh about tonight.

Heaving a sigh, Namjoon turns to face him with glossy eyes. “Well, it is unfortunate that we are not lovers then. Yet. Then I shall ask her to be my betrothed, if we come home.”

“When, Namjoon. When we come home.”

The two continue return their eyes to the moon. It looks bigger tonight. Astronomer Lee says bigger moons bring about luck to all those who look upon it, Seokjin fervently hoping that this journey might somehow be in their favor.

You’ve been tossing around in bed for quite some time now, unable to sleep. Perhaps a cup of milk would do the trick, you thought, pulling the covers away from your body. You wrap a robe over the flimsy garment you usually sleep in and head over to the secret door of your room. It’s been specifically designed to blend in with the wall, only to be used in worst-case scenarios.

Sliding the door open, you creep out of your room, dragging your cotton-clad feet against the wooden floor to make minimal sounds. You head to the bridge connecting your hanok to the palace kitchen. You don’t realize you’re too concentrated on not making noise that you don’t notice the body in front of you. “Jungjeon-mama?” the guard asks, peering down at you. “I’ll just get something from the kitchen, I will be quick.” Discretion could only last for so long. He bows and moves out of the way.

Rummaging through the kitchen as quietly as you can, you silently curse at yourself for not bringing a lamp with you, now all you can do is sniff at the vessels of liquid, hoping that you’ll uncover the right one. Thankfully, you manage to choose the right vessel in no time. As your eyes had adjusted to the light, you manage to grab a ladle and a nearby bowl with almost no noise at all.

As you pour yourself some milk, you return the cover and rest your behind against the table.

You figure it’s time to apologize to her. As you open your mouth to call, a male voice beats you to it. “You’re so beautiful.” Mouth parting in mild surprise, your eyes widen, searching for the voice’s owner. You couldn’t make out who’s voice it belonged to as it was said just barely above a whisper, and you continue peeking through the small space when your eyes land on the captain.

Your hand shoots over your mouth as your lips fall wider apart. It’s finally happening! But wait… you stand up straighter in realization. Namjoon? You’ve heard the guard has been harboring affection towards your favorite court lady for quite some time now. Seokjin was first to notice it, pointing out how Namjoon would sneak glances at Haesoo whenever you were together, both parties walking as one. You heart clenches at the perplexity of the situation.

Surely you’re not meant to stay here and watch the spectacle? Milk was what you came here for, you remind yourself, but like always, curiosity gets the best of you. Jungkook takes another step towards Haesoo, who seems frozen at her spot. Do something lady! You watch as the captain slowly reaches out his hand, the back of his fingers gently caressing the lady’s face. Haesoo leans towards the man’s touch.

“May I?” Jungkook asks, eyes searching for any signs of doubt in Haesoo’s. The girl nods curtly and without waiting any further, Jungkook closes the distance between them. Watching their lips move in sync, you take this as your cue to leave, that is, until you hear a pot clanging against the floor. Your line of vision suddenly returns to the couple to check if someone got hurt, only to find out quite the opposite.

Jungkook has already backed up Haesoo to lean against a table adjacent to the wall. The captain lifts her with ease to sit on the table, Haesoo pulling her knees apart so she could properly hold onto the man, her nimble fingers pulling at Jungkook’s hair. The captain starts smothering her with kisses all over her cheeks, jaws, and neck like a frenzied, starved man. You can’t look away, not when Haesoo is failing miserably at her attempt to keep her whimpering at bay.

Jungkook’s fingers work deftly in undoing the ribbons on her hanbok, lips still trained on lavishing her skin with kisses. As the garment falls easily from Haesoo’s shoulders, Jungkook’s large hand palms her breast while the other is busy kneading the expanse of her thigh. The captain revels in Haesoo’s pliancy, with the girl tilting her head back at Jungkook’s ministrations, begging him for more.

Her hanbok is completely off her torso now, the silk bunching up at hips. Jungkook takes this moment to take a hardened nipple between his lips and swirling his tongue around it as a hand squeezes the supple flesh of the other. Haesoo mewls at the captain’s actions, back arching, words no longer needed to show what she wants, what she desires.

This is wrong. You aren’t supposed to be watching such a private moment, let along seemingly enjoying it. Like Haesoo earlier, you’re just as frozen in your spot as she was.

You no longer see much of Haesoo torso, considering their proximity, but you see Jungkook’s hand removing itself from the assault on her breasts, traveling to her core. She shivers when Jungkook’s fingers swipes against her folds and raising his fingers under the moonlight seeping through the window, observing how wet the tips of his fingers are due to the court lady’s essence.

“Look at you,” Jungkook murmurs in a low voice, watching the slick coating his fingers. “So wet and ready for me. I bet I’d slip right in hmm?”

“Please,” Haesoo begs, hiding her face between his shoulders in pleading. “I need you.” Jungkook seems to have no problem complying, abruptly bring his pants down to his thighs.

You don’t see much due to the lack of light in the room and their compromising position on the table, but this seems all the more thrilling like this. You reprimand yourself, as if Seokjin was lacking in bed. But you have not tried being intimate anywhere else but your room and his office – and the thought of doing it at such a common place like the kitchen where anyone from the palace could easily enter excites you in the strangest way possible.

Surely you can’t be going crazy, can you? Is it normal to find such a spectacle so strangely arousing? The sight of two lovers getting intimate?

Jungkook gently lays her down on the table, pushing her down by her shoulders. He parts her legs wider before adjusting his stance and slowly thrusting his hips forward. Your jaw slackens the same time with Haesoo. You feel your own nipples harden at the sight, the sensitive buds trying to pry through the material.

He pauses for a moment, letting Haesoo adjust to the feeling as his head tilts back, the lady’s velvety walls clenching wonderfully around his cock. When Haesoo tilts her hips, Jungkook takes this as a sign to start moving, each roll of his hips earning a whimper from the writhing girl beneath him. A few more slow rolls and Jungkook thrusts harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping ricocheting against the walls.

A gasp escapes your mouth when the captain maneuvers her legs to rest against his chest and the two stop at once, heads shooting up to look for where the voice came from. Haesoo winces when Jungkook pulls out and puts his pants up.

You flee from the kitchen at once, Jungkook abruptly looking for the intruder, he catches a glimpse of your white-clad figure run towards the door and he briefly questions himself who could you possibly be, but the royal seal at the back of your robe is a little too hard to miss.

Seokjin’s eyelids start to droop, sleep finally taking over him when he hears rustling behind. Namjoon, equally alerted by the sound, stands up and looks around. “Jeonha, we might have company. Please stand.”

It’s awfully quiet now, and the two of them are unsure of its because the troop has fallen asleep or… or if the unspeakable happened… They take a few cautious steps in separate ways, eyes scanning every tree surrounding them.

They wake the troop in silence, warning them of possible danger coming their way. Namjoon orders the company to stay more vigilant than usual, especially in the dark where they won’t able to see if an enemy is lurking around or not. Suddenly a guard falls to the ground, a bow lodged in his back.

“Watch the trees!” Seokjin shouts before chaos ensues. Men coming from all directions charge towards them, the sound of steel clashing against steel echoing throughout the forest. Seokjin’s troop is outnumbered greatly, he realizes. They have to escape before everyone gets killed. “Guards, fall back!” his arms are getting tired too but he can’t find the strength to give up, not when he sees his men falling one by one.

Time seems to slow down around him as he watches each royal guard get shot or stabbed to their death. He backs up slowly, bumping into Namjoon. “You ready?” Seokjin asks, finding it difficult to breath. There’s a slit in his sleeves, a cut a few inches long, feeling the blood trickling down his arm. “’Til death, jeonha.” Namjoon nods, wiping away the blood on his lips with his sleeve.

A group surrounds them – ten to two. “Now!” Seokjin commands, screaming as he charges against the men. He gets kicked at the back, the king falling on his knees. Seokjin’s head bows at the pain, but he plunges his sword to the soil, using it to support his weight as he stands up from his knees. He swings at them, the armed men laughing when he blindly thrusts the sword in the air. He’s been cut again, this time across his pectoral, the stinging pain felt until the tips of his fingers. His vision is getting hazy by the minute. He can’t give up.

Seokjin falls one more time to the ground, his arms bearing all his weight. He sees Namjoon’s body on the side – lifeless. He musters all his strength and attempts to push himself back up one more time. Before he manages to get on his knees, a blade of a sword points at his neck, one more move and the steel will pierce through his skin.

He follows the blade of the sword ‘til he looks up to a masked man with… blonde hair? His eyes narrow at the sight. It was his first time to encounter a man with hair of such color. The man pulls the mask over his head, a healing scar cutting through his right eyebrow and down to his cheek.

“Yoongi?”

“Told you, you can never keep us out.”

That’s the last thing Seokjin hears, as he feels the blade slicing through his abdominals. He falls to the ground, clutching onto his stomach as he spits out the blood accumulating in his mouth. His chest is heaving, everything is hazy. He’s losing consciousness.

The image of you smiling is the last thing he sees before blacking out.

[taglist] : @aretha170

#bagtanhq #ksmutclub #btsghostie #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #bts smut #bts angst #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #seokjin x reader #bts scenarios

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hongism · 3 years

Text

hi caly boo its ur 🌊 anon! i finally finished the most brilliant darkness and oh my lawd i’m in spain without the s. to put it shortly: U DID NOT DISAPPOINT BESTIE, and it seems unreal that u and ur mind and this fic even exists bc every moment is just polished to perfection, while simultaneously every character is polished to a sort of imperfect perfection(?). i have so many questions and things to say idek where to start, and tho im not good with words and even worse at deciphering hidden meanings, here are just some of my thoughts that i remember from the story.

hello my dear!!! eee im gonna answer separately since i think i’ll be very long-winded as usual but first of all thank you so much :(( this fic is actually very full of subliminal messages and hidden nuances that are weaved throughout which i think could be quite confusing so i apologize for that! if i had managed my time better, i would have adjusted when i started the fic to account for managing those aspects of the fic but alas i’m terrible at time management and i suck so. anyways.

first of all, ngl halfway into the story i lowkey forgot this was a wooyoung fic bc SANNN and also bc wooyoung appeared like 3 times lol. even after it finishing all that, i still had my doubts as to why this is a wooyoung fic, or more like why is san this significant in a wooyoung fic. im still a bit slow on these pls forgive me and im just curious why u made it like that.

i think yeah the most interesting thing about this fic is the emphasis on san over wooyoung. and when looking over it yeah i could have switched san and wooyoung’s characters and called it a day, but wooyoung really in my mind acts as the integral turning point for decisions made in the story.

the goal with the fic wasn’t really to be hyperfocused on the pairing itself, but rather the emotions and thought processes of each character (aside from wooyoung). wooyoung was kept intentionally mysterious and a bit set apart from the rest of the fic because his role in story was moreso an abstract of hestia, the goddess of the hearth and home. wooyoung’s character appeared in times where y/n was struggling with the thought of home or adjusting to the new changes in her life! wooyoung’s pairing itself was actually intended to be solely platonic at first, but as the story went on i thought having mc develop feelings for him added another turning point in the fic!

moving on, the second biggest question i had is the whole hestia!wooyoung and cafe aurora situation. i did a bit of reading on hestia and only found out that she was the goddess of hearth, which might explain the fireplace and the kind of homey feeling to the cafe. and ‘cafe aurora not really existing to most’ part, which was already hinted at wooyoung randomly disappearing, mc never seeing the cafe before or wooyoung only bringing people he wants into it. i get that him inviting mc must suggest her significance to him, but why was he so adamant about his friends not mentioning him or the cafe to mc before that? wooyoung is quite a mysterious character i think, and given that this fic is supposed to be about him, it’s a bit odd that there’s still so many things left unknown, but its kinda cool that way nonetheless and im guessing u would also like to explain that further outside of the story too.

i think my biggest regret about this fic is the fucking summary.... i wrote that summary well before i even started writing the fic thinking it would go in that direction but it didn’t. and since this fic was for a collab, i left the summary as is because i genuinely cannot for the life of me figure out a better one. but i’m trying to figure out a better one. but i really fucking hate the current summary because it’s not at all what the fic is truly about and i hate it.

however, i don’t hate the fic itself, and the reason why i don’t is because i got to play with both my writing style and how i displayed the story. for this collab we were asked to pick a greek god and one of the seven deadly sins, and i selected hestia and sloth. and initially i had intended to have sloth be represented by the reader’s depression, and wooyoung be a more ‘real’ depiction of hestia. i shifted gears very early on in the fic but what it became is moreso abstract realizations in the characters.

san’s character is meant to be this idea of sloth, and it’s mentioned several times that he doesn’t want to move forward, he wants to go slow, he wants to stop moving so fast through life, and those things point to him being a depiction of sloth

wooyoung’s was harder to encapsulate in a more abstract way but you hit the nail on the head really with the homey feeling of the cafe. beyond that, mc talks about just naturally feeling at ease and comfortable with how things are with wooyoung and being around him, and he takes up this role of being the likeable, warm, cozy, comforting character. it all comes to a head in the last scene where he brings both y/n and san into the cafe.

and again wooyoung’s character is meant to be most mysterious and abstract, but if i had had more time to fully flesh out the fic, i think i would have liked to touch more on him. at the same time however i left it more open-ended and open to interpretation. the significance in him inviting mc in and not being mentioned by the others sooner is twofold. one; the others never really had any reason whatsoever to mention wooyoung. he was a friend outside the circle who never joined in with them when mc was around. i personally in my own friendships don’t mention friends outside the circle by name or anything, just kinda vaguely talking about them unless im certain the people know who this person is. the concept of wooyoung having to invite mc in was more nuanced and vague as well, intentionally so, but that was moreso meant to represent this idea of ‘you can’t make a home somewhere where you aren’t invited’ so y/n couldn’t fully make a home of the place she was in without being invited in and welcomed in, but again that’s something i wish i had more time to fully flesh out.

the hongjoong speech about love (and also the interaction with seonghwa after that) deserves a standing ovation of its own 👏 unfortunately, or not, im not actually going through the emotional turmoil regarding love the same way as hj or mc to be able to fully relate to his words, but the whole ‘if you dont love what u see in the mirror then u dont love it’ mentality really hit me hard, and i’d like to hang onto that when i make decisions in the future haha thank you wise caly! seonghwa and hongjoong’s story is also beautiful, and just like mc said, the more i look at it the more it hurts :’)

the hongjoong speech about love was meant to be something very jaded and specific to his worldview. it actually isn’t wholly how i view love personally, but it was a perfect description to how both he and y/n perceived the love in their own lives. mostly thanks to their own emotional turmoils. the mentality of the mirror quote is something that i think i also struggle with, which is why i included it. it’s hard to do, but even in friendships, i think it’s necessarily to stop and look at the person you were before this relationship and then the person during this relationship. if you don’t love the one you are now, then maybe it’s a sign to reflect and see the bigger picture, so that was a lil reminder to myself and i’m glad it touched you as well!!!

“do you love him, or do you love the idea of being in love with him?” - haha i see what u did there (or maybe i didnt please dont laugh at me if i didnt). its still so good everytime i see it bc i keep finding myself loving just the idea of things time and time again even when this makes total sense to me oof :/

heh yeah again with the more abstract concepts this one was more direct and ‘cliche’ but i fully wanted that cliche in the fic because i thought it suited the situation where mc was constantly struggling with a version of san that she thought she loved vs the version of san she got every time they were together

despite how enlightened she seems to be, mc still made the same choices, and i wanna smack her for it and pat her back at the same time. and maybe also bc of the fact that she feels so differently for the two men that i feel like no ending could really justify her decision, so ending in the vague is probably the best. your ending might kind of allude to someone more than the other already, and tho i still don’t think he’s the best one for her based on just my pov on love, i kinda agree with you. but again, this raises the question of, why a wooyoung fic and not a san fic?

and yeah the whole knife in the chest at the end of it all is that she was still too scared to face the music so to speak. but really i would say she made the same choices up until the conversation on the balcony with san. and you’re absolutely right, the reason i chose the ending the way i did was because either way, there’s no justification. and actually although it might seems like i was alluding to someone specific, san being in the cafe at the very end was moreso to represent that as much as they fought, he still very much loved her and wanted to be loved by her. it was kinda an open casket ending there were no nails in the coffin, the choice between wooyoung and san still stands and an argument could be made for either of them! i think this is a fic that i could see myself revisiting one day with two endings - one for san, and one for wooyoung.

something i didn’t mention earlier about wooyoung’s character being left intentionally mysterious was that he was representing a new and budding love. the honeymoon phase where you’re falling for someone you don’t even really know. you are the reader aren’t meant to really know who wooyoung is because of that beyond what you read about him, so his past and such was left out intentionally to represent that idea of ‘hey wow im in love with a stranger!’ whereas san was this gritty love that’s bad for you. and there are pros and cons to each just as with anything!!

so,,,, why a wooyoung fic and not a san fic? well i picked wooyoung for my collab so he was one of the main focuses of the fic regardless of which direction i took with it. as for why wooyoung wasn’t more forward, i already answered that but !!! i view it as both a wooyoung fic and a san fic. both are highlighted characters with main pairing roles!

i literally just woke up to write this and am going back to sleep ahaha so i apologize if this makes no sense. i somehow felt like i’ve read so much yet so little at the same time, maybe bc there are still so many things i havent fully made sense of, and that’s where i hope you come in and enlighten me. i still stand by my word that this fic deserves so much more recognition despite the lack of explicit smut bc of how much more you’ve explored through character building. love you caly and thank u for working so hard <3 — 🌊

no worries my beloved i hope you go back to sleep and get lots and lots of rest!! and i hope my response helps enlighten the not so clear things as well dgjdklfg but really thank you so much. it was a long fic and hard to get through at times, but as a whole, i’m proud of it and what i created, so thank you for recognizing my efforts and appreciating them 🥺

#🌊 anon #fic; the most brilliant darkness

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peachade · 4 years

Text

Writing Asks

thank u to sarah @soldouthaz, lily @theisolatedlily and late @tomlinvelvetfics for tagging me !!

1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted

started in eighth grade after moving which fucked me up (i’m still to recover lmao) n i needed a distraction, reading had always helped but writing is what let me see what the root of my agony was. (im not trying to be pretentious i swear) i first started on wattpad (love hate relationship to this day) and beginning of lockdown this year gravitated to ao3 which has been my saving grace !!!

2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself?

so far i’ve mostly written in louis’ pov. i’ve had to ask this question in the early stages — i resonate the closest to harry. most of my wips are harry centric for that reason. i mean, yes and no — i tend to take some part of me and fit it into the character but at the same time i don’t like seeing me on a page so yes and no.

3. where do you often find inspiration?

EVERYWHERE. mostly others’ stories be it in the way of songs, music, writing, art. usually it’s me coming across a vaguely aesthetic picture and my brain spitting out one or two random scenes and me trying to make that a story.

4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process?

both !!! i have new wips but also i lost a lot of motivation to do anything for a bit. school is sucking the soul out of me — it’s both easier and harder with it being online, the worst part is i can never truly feel like i’m getting a break from it. recently it’s been easier for me bc of the friends i made (ily all) it’s hindered a little bit bc i can’t go out and watch people and streetlights and the blur of cars and try to pour out that feeling into words and create something. at the same time it’s helped me gain more perspective on people and relationships which has been a massive help to writing in general.

5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence?

depending on the number of classes i have/attend, my mental stability, the story and my sensitivity. i often can’t stand loud noises so there’s that but there is always some noise or the other so it’s never truly silent. i like it that way. sometimes i just play intense studying playlist on spotify and write, Lucida by Odin Sørlie and Haunted Heart by Dawn, Dawn, Dawn are my favourites.

6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general?

excessive usage of the same word in mine. in general, i’m not a fan of stereotypical characters or romanticising harmful themes.

7. describe your ideal writing setup

2 am, in bed, music still ringing in my ears, three texts from my best friend about a story or about their day. under the blanket, the room smelling of chocolate or something sweet.

8. favorite time of day to write?

anytime but afternoon. those hours are for naps.

9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future?

fiction? i’d love to write a fantasy au 👀

10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it?

yep yep. i just edit an old story or read my old works or other writers’ fics. i gave up trying to force myself into writing — i hated the end product and felt bad so.

11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult?

probably the emotions? dialogue without a doubt — i dread writing it. it doesn’t come to me naturally. i can write lengths without dialogue tbh. also smut — it’s an eh eh aspect.

12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable)

my wonderful friends. they do dumb shit and i want to tell the world about their dumb shit so i make characters out of them.

13. what is your favorite and least favorite word?

as of now it is fucker — delightful word that one. least favourite is probably squelch — just no.

14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at?

the dreamy feeling i manage to write without a doubt !!!! dialogue and pacing. i don’t have the best dialogue or the pacing or the length for fics but i’m working on all of those !!

15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it?

still a wip so i can’t tell you much except that it’s a proper treat. will write this once i’ve posted that fic !!

16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double?

*nervous laughter* the font changes from fic to fic — crush is comic sans, size 11. October was Lora, 11. Twisted in bedsheets is courier new, 11. stargazing is spectral, 11. so yeah — whatever the fic demands. single spaced !!!! except when i’m overwhelmed i do double spaces.

17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently?

I Cannot Type. if you think i can — congratulations you were fooled. autocorrect is the loml.

18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom?

of course !!!! i basically do not exist out of my writing.

19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult?

pain, pining, longing. lust.

20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works?

we’re all fucked up but we’re trying and trying sometimes is enough. you shouldn’t spend your life carved out around one person. it’s okay to ask for help and need a shoulder to lean on. i hope these come across in my future fics !!!!

21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received?

bold of you to assume i’ve ever received advice.

22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show?

a new fic. will update the answer once that fic is out !!!!!

23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order?

chronologically. i can’t do out of order. i do have a page full of scribbles but they are to tell me the order sjakmd.

24. how do you handle criticism?

if it’s constructive then well. no thick skin tbh. makes me feel as if i need validation from someone else on my art which isn’t necessary but my brain is wired to seek it and it’s a hassle.

25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing?

write everything you would want to read. write it bad, don’t worry about the quality. don’t worry about the audience. end of the day, it should be something you can turn to for comfort not something that makes you feel bad.

26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day?

people telling me they like my writing and it could take them out of this world for a few minutes !!!!!

27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend?

probably crush verse !!!! harry — his is probably the one character where i dump most of me in.

28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more?

rant to me about anything. i enjoy talking. ask me about wips so i can take the little guilt and write more.

29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you?

it’s nice to let go and express things and create characters with a better situation than mine.

30. why do you write?

keep myself busy.

boost yourself + tags

1a. share the last sentence you wrote

No kissing. No flashbacks.

2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about

a little something i’m writing inspired by @brickredtoe’s art !!!!

3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of

ok. well. from 5436 miles

“Or we could always add a trail of stars to one of those moons,” he replies, words dragged out, rolling around in his mouth.

He can see the glint in his eyes even behind his closed lids. Everything about Louis is inked and etched into every fiber of his being.

He would’ve kissed him, words pouring from his mouth into Harry’s, only half his.

He snorts. “And make it seem like the moon has a buttplug? No, thanks.”

4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s)

both my published fics have circular endings.

5436 miles — Louis always had more stars in his eyes.

these tornadoes are for you — His heart beats in peace.

5a. link to the last fic you read.

sugary sweet by the immensely talented @soldouthaz

6a. link the last work you published

here

7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable)

wheeee

8a. someone that inspires you

taylor. she’s so so wonderful.

9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year

all of riv, sarah, ris and late’s fics. they’ve been so so comforting. Event Horizon by @mercurial-madhouse

10a. other writers that you’d like to tag!

@mercurial-madhouse @harryanthus are the only ones coming to mind atm. i’ve been up for too long apologies.

#long post #games #writing asks #q q q

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solalunar-eclipse · 4 years

Text

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 2

Chapter title: Escape (from the city)

Word count: about 3500

Some small word choice has been edited.

If you’re here from the updated first chapter, please scroll down to the bolded line! The story continues there.

Previous | Next

Rouge looked out the window cautiously, sliding along the wall and peering around the window frame. She snapped the curtain shut a second later, spinning to face the others. Her eyes were wide. “Crap. They’re here. G.U.N. is here. They want the file- and us, probably. Chaos...I wonder if they want to ‘disappear’ us like in those spy movies.”

“Now who isn’t helping?” Omega said snarkily, aware that Shadow seemed to be on the verge of an actual panic attack.

Rouge glowered at him, before ignoring his comment entirely. “Alright, we probably have a few minutes, max, before they break down the door and try to get us. Omega, start packing. We need nonperishable food and water in case we can’t show ourselves in public, and we’ll want money. Hang on to our office supplies, too- we might need those. I am going to talk to Shadow and try to help him out a little. Good? Be ready to go in five.”

She sat Shadow down on the couch. His body was shaking slightly and his breathing was unsteady.

“Okay, hon, what’s got you so stressed?”

He shivered silently, refusing to speak- he could be very stubborn when he wanted to be.

Rouge rubbed his back cautiously. “Talk to me, Shadow. Just talk. We can work on solving everything later, but you’ve got to get it out there so that I can help. Please?”

Shadow gave in. Again. His friends were far too good at getting him to open up- words spilled from his mouth faster than he could say them, crashing into each other. “It- it all started when I had to carry the guns again- they were barely tolerable during the invasion, but now all they do is remind me of that day- I can’t help but remember that it was them who did it all to me…”

His voice was tight, but he fought past it. “It makes me sick thinking about it, and the idea that they could do that again. But- they have the power, I don’t want everyone to hate me...what if- what if they do it, tell the world lies about me to retaliate for outing them, and Tails, Silver, Sonic can’t look at me the same? What if they believe G.U.N.?”

Rouge kept her hand on his shoulder, not sure of what else she could do. The bat knew she had only scratched the surface of his struggles, and it was already painful for her to watch. “They won’t! They would never, I can tell you that. Right now, though, we have to focus on making sure we get the word out about this so that G.U.N. can’t do it again, alright? One step at a time. Then we’ll deal with whatever comes next. And I promise Omega and I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

“If you say so...okay.” Shadow sighed. He could deal with this more later. Right now, the agents were here, ready to hurt his friends. They had to run, and Rouge and Omega would support him through everything. That could hold him together. For now.

Omega appeared in the doorway. “Are you ready to go? I do not wish to be turned into scrap metal.”

“Yes.” Shadow said, his voice slightly stronger. “Let’s get out of here.”

------------------------------ STORY CONTINUES HERE ---------------------------------

The three jumped into the high-tech convertible from earlier- now plus two impressively packed suitcases- and peeled out of the garage at full speed. Rouge was driving, since Shadow still wasn’t at a hundred percent. They could all hear the G.U.N. agents shouting behind them as they drove wildly away, but Rouge forced herself to focus on the road despite them.

The hybrid picked up his phone, knowing what he had to do next. It didn’t make this any better, though.

He dialed the number.

“Hello. This is Shadow.”

“Hi, Shads! What’s up! You busy?” an instantly recognizable voice chirped.

“I am in fact busy at the moment. That is why I am calling.”

“Aw, really?” Sonic sounded disappointed. “I was gonna ask if you could come over and race.”

“I’m afraid I cannot. Rouge, Omega and I are currently trying our best to not be captured by about twenty angry G.U.N. agents, so racing is… not an option right now.”

He heard a gasp from the other end of the line. “What?! Wait, what happened? Is there anything you need?”

Shadow smiled faintly- that was Sonic, always looking out for others. “Omega stole some files on my sister and her death. We spoke to G.U.N. beforehand, and they refused to do anything about their actions or even admit wrongdoing, so. We’re calling them out on it by finding proof of what they did.”

“They wouldn’t apologize? For that?!” Sonic yelled. “Jerks! I can’t believe you work for them!”

“Well, I strongly suspect that we are all fired, so that solves that problem.” Shadow replied dryly.

“Good! But you should’ve quit- show them who’s boss! If you need a place to stay while you’re taking them out, you can come crash with us, y’know.”

“That is a kind offer, Sonic, but I’m afraid I must turn you down. G.U.N. is already going to come in and question both you and Tails, and I don’t want you getting in any more trouble than you need.”

Sonic groaned. “Ugh, this whole thing sounds like one of those overly complicated super-secret missions you guys always go on. Or used to go on, whatever. There isn’t any butt-kicking in any of this- wish there was some dude I could beat up and then it’d be fixed.”

Shadow’s smile grew wider. “If only.” Then it faded. “I hope you understand why I won’t be able to tell you where we’re going or what our plans are from now on. The less you know, the safer you are. Despite this, don’t let G.U.N. take you or anyone else anywhere. You might not come back.”

He heard the skepticism in Sonic’s voice. “Seriously? You think so?”

“I know so. Be careful, Sonic. These people aren’t crazy geniuses- they’re ruthless destroyers. Trust me. And...we’re all going to shut down our phones. We could be tapped or tracked at any time. We’ll only call in from public phones or the like.”

“Oh, chaos….this really is serious, isn’t it?” Sonic’s voice was small. “Hang on, put me on speaker.”

Shadow did. “You’re on now.”

“Guys?” Sonic said. “You’re all awesome- I know you’re gonna make them pay. Just don’t die on me, we need you for movie night.” he said, only half joking.

“We will do our best.” Omega replied.

“Tell Knux I love him, ‘kay?” Rouge shouted.

“Will do!” Sonic replied, giggling.

Shadow took him off speaker and told him so.

“Sonic…stay safe. Please. I know you like to be the one who saves the day, but not this time, alright?”

The hero sounded tense. “Fine. But if I don’t hear from you guys for three days, I’m gonna start freaking out. You hear me?”

Shadow laughed bitterly. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. I’d hate to come back and find your house destroyed.”

“Yeah…” Sonic said weakly.

The hybrid sighed. “I suppose I must go now. Tell everyone else, alright? I’ll confirm what you say via text before I shut down my phone.”

“Okay. Bye, Shads- talk to ya later!” Sonic made an effort to sound cheerful.

“Talk to you soon.” Shadow said, and then he ended the call.

Rouge grinned. “Awww, that’s sweet. Done talking to your boyfriend, Shadow?”

“He is not my boyfriend!” Shadow roared, blushing. “We’re only rivals, Rouge, get that idea out of your head now!”

“Suuure~” Rouge said, laughing at Shadow’s embarrassment.

They became serious again quickly, however. Rouge hadn’t quite managed to lose the agents yet. She drove through two alleyways (“I just cleaned the car yesterday…” Omega complained), ran several red lights, and played one horrible game of chicken with a streetcar before they were able to get away.

Shadow had nearly had multiple heart attacks by the time that was over.

He heard his phone ping with a message while he was in the middle of switching off the other two. Of course Rouge had the latest iCall 11, while Omega had a 10 that Rouge had gifted him.

Shadow himself had a Candystripe (shameful, he knew, but they were easier for him to use), and that was at least partly why the group always messaged through Entropy.

He opened it up to see Sonic’s ten texts.

sanic: hey guys shads just called

he & rouge & omega are running from gun

they stole some important files about maria (sorry about the name drop shadow)

& gun got stupid mad

they wouldn’t say sorry or do anything about what they did to her either

so i really wanna beat someone up for that ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭

team dark is kinda scared for their lives now bc of gun so we can’t text them for a while or anything cuz they’re turning off their phones

oh and knux rouge says she loves u

i’d make a joke but tbh i’m actually freaking out a little rn

this sounds crazy i kno but it’s true

milesperhour: Wait, what? Are you serious??

andknuckles: Rouge, stay safe, alright

Don’t get hurt

Shadow smirked. “Your boyfriend wants you to stay safe. He’s worried.”

Rouge blushed. “He’s sweet, isn’t he?”

notclairvoyantjustpsychic: WHAT

CHAOS THEY DID NOT

edgehog: Yes, they did. Unfortunately. I’ve passed your message along, Knuckles. Please don’t scream, Silver.

Goodbye for now. We’ll get in touch later.

Shadow shut off his phone after that, but not before he saw one last private text.

sanic: i’m gonna miss u shads…. T-T

Shadow sighed quietly as he and his friends drove out of the city. He and Sonic had grown pretty close, and the blue hero was the only person outside of Team Dark whom he truly trusted.

He would most definitely miss Sonic as well.

...

Once the three had driven for the rest of the day- Omega took over once Rouge got tired- they pulled off into a small motel out in the plains of the United Federation.

A neon “Vacant” sign flickered faintly as the wind rushed through the golden fields. The sign for Cloud 9 Motel was faded and weatherbeaten, and there was only one other car in the parking lot. The sandstone-colored building was shaped like a blocky U, the front desk vaguely visible through clouded windows.

Shadow walked over to the motel doors and pushed them open, pulling out some money to pay for a room. Omega went with him- the robot needed to charge, and Rouge wanted some privacy for a minute.

The bat found an old pay phone off to the side and took a turn calling Knuckles. She stood there quietly, watching the sunset as she waited for him to pick up.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Rouge?! It’s you?” She heard him shout away from the phone. “Sonic! Tails! It’s Rouge calling!”

She smiled quietly, but couldn’t quite bring herself to laugh. “You’re with your friends, hm?”

“Yeah- we’re figuring out what to do.”

Rouge frowned. “Don’t do anything- didn’t Sonic tell you what Shadow said? This is dangerous!”

Knuckles scoffed. “Dangerous? I led the Resistance against the Eggman Empire! Don’t talk to me about danger!”

Rouge facepalmed. She loved Knuckles so, so much, but he could be such an idiot sometimes.

“Yes, but the difference is, Eggman launched full-scale attacks that you could plan for. G.U.N. will not hesitate to shoot you in the back as you hang out with your friends.”

“People would do that?!” Knuckles shouted. He was still awfully naive about the world, and Rouge tended to forget this occasionally.

“They absolutely would. I need you to promise me that you, Sonic, and Tails will stay out of this.”

“But what about you?” he asked. “And Omega and Shadow?”

“I see you’re even worried about him, hm? Well, don’t worry about us- we’re used to dealing with these guys.” Rouge snickered.

Knuckles groaned. “I don’t hate Shadow, I just don’t really like him either. And he’s in danger too.”

“Thank you, hon.” she said honestly, appreciating that the echidna was starting to care about her friend. At least a little.

“I should probably go soon, but we’re currently at a motel in the middle of nowhere- I can’t tell you which one- and we’ll start planning our next move. Talk to you later, alright?”

“Talk to you later. Love you…” Knuckles said nervously. She could practically hear him blushing on the other end.

“Love you too, Knuckles. Bye!”

She hung up the phone and leaned against the glass wall of the booth, already missing him. He was really such a kind person underneath all that bluster, and that’s what she’d fallen for in the first place.

She looked up, noticing that Shadow left the building. He walked across the parking lot and opened up the door. “You’ll see him again soon, Rouge. All we have to do is get this footage and then we’ll be back home.”

“I know, it’s nothing.” she said softly.

The hybrid stood awkwardly for a moment, before quietly extending his arms. The gesture looked incredibly strange, but Rouge knew what he was trying to do and really appreciated it. She hugged him tightly and smiled. “You’re a good friend, Shadow.”

He held her a little tighter. “Take a look at yourself- you’re willing to go to Chaos-knows-where just to help me find some old video.”

She pulled back and smiled at him. “That’s what friends are for, right? Now let’s go check out that room.”

Shadow scuffed at the ground, sighing loudly. “Before you go in, you should know I used false names for all of us- the woman at the desk didn’t seem to know who any of us were, though she did say I looked like Sonic.” He didn’t seem pleased with that.

“I called Omega ‘Theta’ because it was the first idea I had. I haven’t given you a name yet because I thought you’d want your own…...less lame one.”

“Good...but what’s yours?” Rouge asked, smirking.

“I was on the spot.” Shadow couldn’t meet her eyes. “I used Apophis as my name. The ancient mythical chaos snake. It sounds so formal….”

Rouge grinned but held in her laugh for his sake. Shadow, despite his emo appearance, was definitely a nerd.

“My name should be….Ruby. Like the gem.”

Shadow looked confused. “Why?”

“Because of my name, silly. It means ‘red’ in French, and rubies are red.” Rouge said lightly.

“Oh….I suppose that makes sense.” he muttered, looking a little bewildered.

They went up to the room and discovered that Omega had already plugged himself into the outlet in the wall. He looked up when Rouge and Shadow walked in. “This electricity is subpar, but it will suit my purposes.” he informed them.

Rouge couldn’t help teasing him a little. “What, does it taste bad or something?”

Omega would have rolled his eyes, if he could. “No. It is simply weak and limited so that you organics do not electrocute yourselves.”

The bat surveyed the room critically, noting the lack of certain furniture. “Really, Shadow? You know Knuckles is going to pound you into the ground if he finds out we shared a bed.”

“It was cheaper.” Shadow called flatly from the closet, over the noise of his attempt to put away the suitcases. “We don’t have an endless supply of money, and I can sleep in the desk chair if you have an issue with this.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Rouge replied. “Besides, he knows that I’ve never been into that kind of thing. Or dating you, no offense.”

“Agreed, and none taken.” The hybrid came back out and sank down onto the bed. “Omega, would you mind pulling up the schematics of the G.U.N. facility we’re trying to break into? I know you were heading in that general direction, but where is it, and how would we get inside?”

“Processing. You know, you are very lucky that I downloaded all schematics early on in our work with G.U.N..”

“Very lucky that you got lost once and then refused to have it happen again, you mean,” Rouge shot back.

“We do not speak of that incident. Ever.”

“Alright, alright, now where are we breaking in?” Shadow snapped, his quills bristling. He looked tense, Rouge noticed. She sat down next to Shadow and gave him a quiet look to try and calm him down. He sighed.

“Schematic loaded. Accessing…”

Suddenly, a three-dimensional map of the facility appeared in the room, along with an address in the lower right corner of the display. Rouge patted Shadow’s back once before getting up to survey the map- as a thief, she was the most experienced and therefore the authority on breaking and entering. And stealing, of course.

“So,” she said after a moment, “we’re definitely going in through the side door. While the vents are more classic, they’re also a greater hazard and Omega wouldn’t fit. Sorry, Omega.”

“That is fine.”

“So, we’ll grab a couple of delivery uniforms- and we will return them, don’t worry-” she added, for Shadow’s benefit. She knew he didn’t like doing anything that would hurt people just trying to get by.

“-and then we can get inside through that door. We’ll navigate the halls and head straight to the video storage rooms, which are here.” Rouge pointed to a specific area of the map, which Omega helpfully enlarged. “We’re going to need to split up and search them quickly. Most likely, the video will be on a VHS tape, so that’s what we’re looking for. G.U.N. is nothing if not organized, so they’ll probably just have a box labeled ‘ARK Files’. Everyone clear?”

“Yes.”

“Affirmative.”

“Now then, there are guards on a rotating schedule that pass by the same area every fifteen minutes. We’ll need to avoid them and move quickly, because we don’t want to be seen. I know we could take out two guards if necessary, but we don’t want any of them radioing in to the security center and setting off an alarm.”

“I will remove any threat before it becomes too big to handle, no matter what.” Omega declared.

“I’m not sure that’s the point of a stealth mission, Omega.” Shadow replied, a small smile on his face.

Rouge noticed that this was the first time he’d smiled properly in a while.

“Alright, now let’s get some rest. We’re going to need it for the next few days.”

“The next few days?” Omega asked. “Why are we not attacking them tomorrow?”

“Because they’ll be expecting us tomorrow, Omega- all of G.U.N. is going to be on high alert.” Rouge said, exasperated. “We have to lie low for a while, make them drop their guard.”

Shadow sighed. “I can’t stand waiting, but if it means we’ll be safer, I suppose we have no choice.”

“Good.” Rouge replied, going into her “team mom” mode. “Now. Rest.”

It was strange for her sometimes, being the leader of the team. Shadow and Omega both acted younger than her, even though their ages were incredibly confusing. Shadow was either five, fifteen, or fifty-five, depending on how you counted, and Omega was essentially ageless. Yet somehow she, at eighteen, was the team leader in most situations.

She certainly didn’t mind it, though.

As she lay in bed at night, her attempts to sleep were quickly foiled by the hedgehog next to her. Shadow could not lie still.

“Are you always like...this, Shadow?” she asked, trying her best to be polite.

“...no…” he mumbled quietly, turning away from her.

“This is a really stressful time for you, isn’t it?” she asked gently.

He lay there for a moment.

“Perhaps.” he said finally, his voice flat.

Rouge thought about what to do next.

“Omega, what’s the length of your charging cable?”

“Twelve feet. Why do you ask?”

“Get in.”

Shadow sat up quickly. “Wait- what?!”

Rouge smirked. “Get in, Omega. It’s time for a team hug session.”

Shadow attempted to protest, but Omega climbed onto the bed anyway and lay down on the hybrid’s other side.

Rouge watched Shadow, feeling relieved when he began to relax. Omega’s computers were whirring away softly, providing a steady background hum that pushed her friend to sleep.

He sighed, murmuring quietly. “Good night, Omega. Sleep well, Rouge.”

“Night, boys.” she said.

“I will keep watch while you both sleep. Just in case.” Omega replied.

Shadow’s eyes began to close. “Heh. Thanks…. Omega……”

Rouge shut her eyes as well, pleased with herself. This was her team, and they were going to kick G.U.N. to the curb. But that could wait for tomorrow- right now, it was late, and she could rest. Finally.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #team dark #scars you can't see #introducing team sonic!#and also silver #shadow likes to pretend he's okay but he's really not #rouge and shadow are 100% ace #also just to clarify sonic and shadow really aren't dating #but they're definitely close to crushing at this point #sol’s fanfiction

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matsumi101 · 4 years

Text

Who is this Kid?

Crossdressing Fem!Reader Hamilton Insert

Secret

Description:

General Washington has been relentlessly receiving letters one after another that has been requesting two same things over and over again. It’s high time he confronts the writer directly about it, and maybe clear something that he’s been hearing around while he’s at it.

———————————

Warnings: swearing, drinking

———————————

Notes:

> Masterlist

> Read from the beginning.

> “F/N” means fake name and “Y/N” means your real first name

> I don’t think I warned y’all before but I wasn’t really planning on writing chronologically. I’m not sorry lmao

> Surprise Wednesday update! I’ve been reading the rb tags and the replies you guys keep leaving in my story and honestly it makes my heart go 💞 aaa ily guys sm and im glad you’re enjoying the story 🥺🥺🥺

———————————

Taglist (if u wanna be added do tell!)

@thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @cutie1365 @girlmadeofivory @i-honestly-dont-know-anymore @takemyhand-bitch @hamiltrashqueer

———————————

“Hey, Juggernaut.”

You adjusted your coat before pulling your tent open. “Yo,” you greeted quietly to the soldier waiting in front of your tent. “General Washington calls for you,” he informed you. You nodded and ducked out of your tent, not wanting to wait another second to know what your superior wanted to talk about. You walked at a brisk pace, never stopping until you were now in front of the tent that was noticeably larger than the rest.

You swallowed thickly, millions of possibilities running in your head to as why you were called. A big part of you hoped that it was with regards to your plans, though there was a smaller bit of you that feared that it might be of something else. Not wanting to keep yourself on edge any further, you pushed the tent open and let yourself in.

"Your excellency, sir. You asked to see me?"

You readily saluted at the presence of not only George Washington but the aide-de-camps and officers that were with him as well. They circled a table, where a map and a few mock pieces were laid out for them to view and move around. While John and Lafayette's eyes twinkled with recognition, the others simply stared at your arrival. "Private F/N L/N?" George assumed. He motioned you to be at ease, which you silently obeyed.

"Yes, sir," you confirmed with a steady voice.

George quickly dismissed the rest of the people out of the tent, the only ones remaining were you, him, and Alexander who was busy writing something at his desk at the corner. “I’ve been reading your letters,” George began, moving to get something from his main desk. You immediately tensed as he pulled out a small stack of envelopes underneath. You kept your lips sealed, waiting for the General’s input on your requests.

“You’ve been asking to have the same thing approved for years now,” he began, “and recently, you’re asking for a rather unique position in your unit, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

From the corner of your eyes you could see Alexander perk up slightly at the conversation. He subtly glanced up from his work, his eyes falling on George as the general picked up an open letter that had been lying on his desk. “Let’s talk about the first one,” George announced. “I’ve noticed there was a slight change with your offer.” You licked the bottom of your lips out of nervousness, fiddling with your hands behind you.

“Unfortunately, even I can’t agree to it.”

“If I may sir, why not?”

George looked up from the letter to you. “Women cannot be paid to study, son,” he explained plainly. You tilted your head the slightest, confusion from his statement evident. “Sir, I do not seek for women to be paid to be taught basic medicinal procedures,” you murmured, and that was enough for George to mirror your expression.

“That doesn’t seem to be the message I’m getting from your letter, L/N.”

You opened your mouth to counter, but when a vague memory hit you like a punch in the gut, you couldn’t help but to smack your forehead in realization. “Shit, I am so sorry,” you apologized, the annoyance woven in your voice directed to yourself more than anything. George furrowed his brows at your sudden drop of formality, noticing how you were cursing under your breath as you returned to position.

“I must’ve sent you my draft letter instead of the actual one. The pay that I mentioned in the letter refers to the pay of the nurses, not the education that I wish to be provided to them.”

Your face turned to more of an embarrassed one. “I... might’ve written this late at night so my thoughts merged while I was writing,” you confessed, looking down at the ground. “I apologize for causing a misunderstanding. Writing... has never really been my best suit.” You could feel the back of your neck heat up with embarrassment, and the blood was slowly creeping its way to your cheeks the more you dwelled on your mistake. George huffed, and you could’ve sworn there was laughter that came along with it.

“We have our own weaknesses, son,” he said. “Rewrite your statement, then I’ll have it sent to the Congress for approval. Hamilton.”

“Yes, sir?”

The called man straightened from his seat almost instantaneously. “If you’re not too busy, you can help Private L/N draft his proposal to the Congress tonight?” he requested. You looked at Alexander almost the same time he looked at you. “I take it you approve of his plans, sir?” he asked George, though it came off more of a statement than a question.

“Yes. If our nurses are given the same pay as our male doctors, or at the very least raise it, then there wouldn’t be any need for our officers to resort to... violent methods of recruiting them.”

Your jaw visibly clenched at the last few words, and George wasn’t dense to not notice it. “If we treat our camp followers properly, as we should’ve been since square one, then they wouldn’t be working out of spite or fear,” you pointed out through gritted teeth, “and by teaching them the required medical procedures to treating our wounded, then there would be more hands on our medical team without really hiring more hands.” Alexander nearly beamed at your words and hurriedly wrote something down on a spare piece of paper.

“That’s an excellent point F/N, I’ll make sure to include that in your proposal,” he announced eagerly.

You stared at Alexander with surprise while George chuckled in amusement. “Now, since we’ve cleared all misunderstandings for your first request, I take it we’re good to move on to the next one?” his voice wasn’t as light as when he brought up your first request. “Ready as I’ll ever be, sir,” you replied. George nodded, pulling a different letter.

“Private L/N, I’m sure you already know the contents of your own letters, so I will say right now that I just can’t approve you to a... what is this term you used?”

“Field medic, sir.”

“Right.”

“Field medic?”

Alexander wasn’t really supposed to be a part of the next conversation, but he couldn’t help but inquire about the strange new term he just heard. “Basically a doctor soldier tasked specifically to treat wounded men while on field and pull them out of there,” George explained, and you nodded. Alexander’s face contorted, and you sighed internally as it was the response you already expected to get from someone hearing your concept for the first time.

“I... I don’t get it,” Alexander murmured. “We can bring our men to the backlines just fine during combat, I don’t see the point of having a person to specialize in that.”

You were just about ready to explain, but then George put up his hand to stop you. “I can hand you Private L/N’s letters of proposal for later, son,” George reasoned. Alexander’s face fell, and the man buried his face back to his work. “With all due respect sir, I feel like I am fully capable of putting this concept into action. My endurance is beyond average to run around the field and carry our wounded, all I need left is some proper first-aid training.”

“And we need your endurance in the frontlines!” George retorted. “Juggernaut, you’re our best foot soldier, I cannot afford to send you to the medics.”

You nearly physically recoiled at the use of your nickname. You wore the title “Juggernaut” with pride ever since, and George knew. Your tendency to almost never use your gunpowder and instead resort to close combat was what earned you the nickname, and your commanders made sure to utilize you best for that. Simply put, your fearlessness to be up close with the redcoats was something praised by your fellow soldiers and feared by the enemy.

“Sir,” your voice dropped low. “Many men die bleeding out in the field when they could’ve lived if only someone had been there to pull them out, but the second they’re crippled they are not our standing soldiers’ priority. Moreover, many more die in the tents simply for having infected wounds that could’ve been survivable had someone treated it long before. These men have hopes of coming home to see the end of this war and what follows as much as any of us, even while they lay in their own pool of blood as the rest of the fight ensues around them. Sir, they have lives they want to go back to, too, just like us.”

When you were done talking, the air within the tent was heavy. Was it out of realization or just the sheer weight of your words, no one was quite sure, but the tension was so thick no blade could cut through it. “I can see you are as adamant in saving lives as you are taking them,” George mused, finally breaking the suffocating silence that wrapped around the three of you. He glanced down at your letter, hesitancy clear as day. Between the two of you, it was the sixth one you sent for your proposed role. For every letter of declination he gave you, you rebutted with a new letter no more than two to three days later countering his reasonings. For someone who isn’t the best at writing, you do write a lot, he thought.

“Let my hands be stained saving the blood of my allies than spilling the blood of my enemies,” you responded, quoting your own letter.

George huffed, setting down the letter. “I will... think this through for the meantime,” he announced. You resisted your mouth that nearly quirked upwards at his words; consideration was a good enough sign for you. “Thank you sir,” you breathed. George eyed you carefully, thinking if there was anything else needed to be said to you. “I suppose that will be all for now,” he decided tentatively. He dismissed you, and just after you thanked him for his time and turned around was then he remembered.

“Hold on, Private. I feel like there’s one more thing needed to be discussed.”

You looked over your shoulder, almost fearfully, as you moved away from the tent’s exit. George leaned back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a nearly blank stare. “I feel like we should address the secret circulating around you,” he pointed out. Your jaw dropped to the floor, a chill striking you from the feet up. A hand flew over your arm as goosebumps riddled your limbs, and you feared the worst.

“What secret, sir?” you asked, your voice nearly returning to normal with panic.

“Juggernaut, I don’t think we need to beat around the bush over this. Other soldiers have seen it, too, and you need to come clean with it.”

Other soldiers? The thought was everything but comforting. You always thought you had been discreet with your identity, but apparently you weren’t based on the General’s accusations. However, you kept your mind straight enough to keep droning on. Maybe it was just a mistake, maybe it was just a false rumor that was meant to drag you in the dirt. Yeah, maybe that’s it. You desperately wished that was it.

“It must be a mistake, sir. Whatever this secret may be must be just a measly rumor to throw me off,” you tried to reason out.

“Would it be considered a rumor if we have a witness?”

Your stomach dropped. So there are people who saw? That was definitely not right. You were always sure to have your corset on, only taking it off inside the tent, and whenever you bathe you made sure you were either alone or the last one out and never surfacing from the water. George glanced over to Alexander expectantly, and for the first time the secretary seemed to not want to partake in the conversation.

“Hamilton here has your verbatim.”

You could feel your palms turn sweatier as the seconds passed. You steadied your breathing, trying to calm yourself and stay reasonable. Alexander stared at George incredulously, as if he was the one who’d been ratted out by their superior. He looked over to you, and despite your seemingly calm stature there was nervousness in your eyes that spoke otherwise. Not wanting to lie, Alexander nodded almost apologetically to confirm. You felt your shoulders sag. Had you been too lax when you discussed about pretending with other disguised women? Or had you been too loud when you were rambling to yourself in your own tent? You feared what was next to follow, but if there was someone who bore evidence of your secret, then it was better for you to speak the truth.

“I apologize for deceiving you, sir,” you conceded, dropping your head. “I am more than willing to accept the punishment for my actions.”

“Funny, I figured you’d know enough the consequences of having more liquor than the daily rations you’re given.”

“Wh... what...?”

You tried to wrap your head around the new information. Liquor... daily rations... was that what General George Washington accusing you of this whole time? “Or is the excess whiskey your secret to your fearlessness after all?” George mused teasingly, and you shot up straight when it finally registered to you. “No sir, that would be my low sense of self-preservation,” you answered hurriedly, jokingly. Thankfully for you, George chuckled at your banter.

“Well, don’t think of dying too early, young man,” George advised lightheartedly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

The tight feeling that was mentally suffocating you the whole time released your entire being. “Though, if it’s any assurance, my stash of vodka hasn’t really been consumed,” you informed. “If anything, I think the only time I made use of it was when I disinfected someone’s wound.” George sat up straight, a curious look flashing in his eyes.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who’d you heal?”

You paused, wondering if you should really say. “It was Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens.” You glanced up, noticing the inquisitive look both George and Alexander held. “If it’s any compensation for my troubles, I can offer some of my personal beverage. Surely, you’d like a shot,” you then offered, swiftly dodging the questions that might’ve followed your prior statement.

“And how will I know this is not a ploy to try on my good side, son?”

“Was I on your bad side this whole time, sir?”

“With the direction your letters were going, you might be at the tipping point of being so with the Congress.”

You laughed uneasily. “Rest assured sir, my offer is all in good faith.” George uncovered the mug that rested on the edge of his table, and you took that as the sign to approach. You pulled out your flask, which had been refilled from the much larger bottle that you were hiding in your tent (you wondered if someone that visited your tent before saw the bottle which led to the accusations), and poured a hefty amount into the mug, much to George’s pleasure. You waved to Alexander with the flask. “Do you want some too, Hamilton?” you asked him. Alexander stared at your flask, then to George, and then to his papers.

“Come on, son. It’s not everyday we have a little extra liquor,” George insisted, a welcoming smile on his face.

Alexander didn’t hesitate to come over to the table the second he got George’s approval. He brought his own cup, and you readily poured him almost the same amount as George. “Thanks, I needed this,” he sighed gratefully, the strong scent already wafting through his nose. The three of you shared a toast, and you took a nice, long swig from your flask. A satisfied growl emitted from each of you, the burning sensation running down your throat.

“Well sir, I should head out now,” you said quietly.

George nodded, and finally dismissed you. “Call the others back on your way out,” he ordered, and you gave a verbal confirmation before pushing one of the tent flaps open. You peered outside and saw that Lafayette and John were talking nearby. You headed to them, waving a hand to catch their attention.

“F/N! The General didn’t chew you out too much, I hope?” John teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I got out alive,” you joked. “The General requests you guys and the other officials to return, by the way.” John chuckled, patting your shoulder as he passed by. Lafayette ruffled your hair before he and John headed out to look for the other officials that dispersed in the camp. You sighed and walked back to your tent, the clashing sensation of relief and anxiousness washing over you.

Your secret was safe... for now.

#hamilton #hamilton musical #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton reader insert #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #alexander hamilton #john laurens #lafayette #george washington #who is this kid

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stubbornness-and-spite · 4 years

Text

Based on this prompt from @sidespromptblog

I hope you don’t mind, I really liked the concept of this prompt, but unsympathetic Patton makes me vaguely uncomfortable(I’m cool with seeing it as long as people don’t claim its canon, but I cannot write it) so I tweaked it a little bit to involve more Logan angst and no u!Patton.

Holy crap, I’m bad at writing Remus. He’s not my normal style of character at all, so he’s probably pretty ooc, but I really liked the rest of it and I could use the practice. Also, his dialogue might be a little hard to follow. I think I overcompensated for the lack of Remusisms by making his dialogue a little all over the place.

Characters: Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Janus Sanders, Remus Sanders

mild angst, mostly comfort - let me know if I need to tag anything

“Oh, gosh this is hard,” Patton complained, staring at the ceiling. “Can I ask one for both of you?”

“Why not?” Janus responded amicably. Patton, Janus, and Remus were sitting on the couch in the living room playing a game. Roman had taken one look at the three on the couch, rolled his eyes affectionately and headed back to his room. Virgil’s reaction had been similar but less openly fond. Logan had refused to join their game, but was sitting in the room on the armchair, reading a book. Patton had suggested the game, having gotten the idea after seeing Logan and Remus talk about squids. They were each taking turns asking the others questions and the others had to answer honestly. The point of the game was to get to know each other and feel more comfortable together so the questions that had started off simple were getting more and more personal. After Janus had been asked a question about his scales and clammed up, a new rule had been added that while they weren’t allowed to lie, they could choose not to answer the question if it was too personal.

“I got one!” Patton cried. “Who’s your favorite side?” Janus and Remus exchanged a quick look and Patton hastened to add, “Besides each other.”

“Why would you think Remus would be my favorite anything?” Janus asked with a grin, relaxing slightly. “He’s a nightmare.”

“And Caution Ramen is the worst spoil-sport ever,” Remus groaned.

Patton giggled. “Come on, there’s no pressure if you can’t choose, just say,” he needled.

“Logan,” Janus and Remus replied without hesitation.

“What?!”

The three on the couch whipped their heads around to where they had forgotten Logan was sitting, his book abandoned in his lap.

Remus shrugged and nodded when he noticed Patton and Logan’s eyes on him. The other three slowly turned to Janus, who sighed.

“Logan never saw us as evil, and actually tried to explain how we're not completely bad for Thomas,” he explained. His expression hardened slightly. “He also didn't have to be spoon fed philosophy to believe that I wasn't a dirty lying snake,” he snapped.

Patton winced. “I’m sor-”

Janus held up a hand and waved his worries aside. “Forgiven. Just don’t do it again.” Janus flushed slightly. “So you know... He's my favorite at least.”

Remus nodded. “He doesn’t yell at me. He offered to consider parts of what I add.” A bright grin spread across Remus’s face. “Plus he knows a ton of gorey facts!”

Janus and Remus slowly looked away from where they had been stubbornly looking at Patton while talking about Logan to look at Logan himself. His hands were stiff as he slowly moved his book out of his lap to the end table.

“I would appreciate it,” he said through gritted teeth. “If you would just tell me when you wanted me to leave instead of trying to embarrass me into leaving, regardless of how effective it may be.”

“Logan, wait!” All three of the other sides called.

Patton smiled softly. “I want a turn saying how cool you are, Logan.”

Logan scoffed. “Please stop.”

“Stop lying?” Patton asked. “Okay. I could never choose between my kiddos, but I think you’re pretty awesome, Lo. You’re smart and determined and strong. You’re my hero.”

“Roman is the hero, not me,” Logan said, his hands firmly not shaking at his sides. “By repeating that you are only hurting us, him.”

“Logan, we’re not lying,” Janus said, his soft tone matching Patton’s. “Why do you think I benched you in the court trial? Because you were the only one who I knew for a fact could rip apart any argument I put forward. You’re smart and quick on your feet and that’s admirable.”

“You don’t make me feel like a freak,” Remus muttered. He perked up right away when he saw the other sides eyes on him. “I like being a freak most of the time. I’m the bad guy and I’m terrifying.” he trailed off. “But sometimes I like to have someone listen to my ideas as if they’re just regular ideas. Jan tries and,” he turned to Janus. “You know I love you for that, but,” he looked back at Logan. “You never bat an eye no matter how deranged I get. Which can be infuriating, let me tell you!” Remus’s voice suddenly filled the room and he started gesturing wildly. “Do you know how frustrating it is when you spend all night trying to make the most horrifying thing the mind can conjure and this nerd just walks in, makes some coffee, and leaves? No! You don’t know!” He froze without warning, softening again. “Do you know how awesome it feels when you spend all night working on something to make it perfect and the first person to see it winces because it’s a mess and then you walk in and it catches your eye and you want me to tell you all about it? No. Because that’s just how you are.”

Logan sighed and sat back down. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I appreciate it. I apologize for derailing your game.”

“Wanna join us?” Remus offered. Logan hesitated.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Janus reassured him.

“Come on, kiddo, play with us,” Patton pressed. “You know I’m never tired of your company!”

Logan raised an eyebrow skeptically.

Patton deflated. “Please, Logan. I know I haven’t been as good as I try to be lately, but I really want us to be friends again.”

Logan huffed and shook his head, smiling fondly. “We’re friends, Patton.” He looked over at Janus and Remus. “I hope you consider you and I friends as well?” Both nodded. “Very well,” Logan responded. “I suppose I’m joining. I have a question for the three of you.”

#sanders sides #logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides fic #sympathetic sides #i need a writing tag

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stolethekey · 5 years

Note

Hellohello I just read “it’s your love I’m lost in” and it was AMAZING. I absolutely loved it. idk if you take requests or not but if you do I’m begging you to write something abt Jake and Amy reuniting after the snap is reversed. It’s totally okay if you don’t want to, I just figured I would ask. Your writing is amazing and I hope you have a great day!!

hiiiiii wow thank you so much this is so nice i’m –

anyway this took SO long but i did write it finally so here u go

(also tagging @johnny-and-dora bc they also asked for it. hi friend hope this isn’t disappointing)

if ao3 is more your jam you can find this here!

and if you missed the first part you can find it on tumblr here or ao3 at the link above!!

Five years is a long time.

It is long enough for Amy to develop a rapport with her officers that is almost as familial as the one back with the Nine-Nine’s detectives. It is long enough for Cagney and Lacey Jeffords to complete middle school and start high school, and it is long enough for baby Ava to start fourth grade.

Five years is also not long enough.

It is long enough for Holt to hire a new assistant, but not long enough for the assistant’s desk to feel less empty. It is not long enough for Rosa to stop eating honorary takoyaki for lunch on the second Tuesday of every month, even as she gags while opening the bag.

It is not long enough for the precinct to heal.

The pain is duller now, and there is generally more laughter in the air, but there is still a palpable sense of grief and loss that underlies the daily hustle and bustle of the building.

It’s why Amy keeps a bag of sour candy in her office at all times – it’s why she sits through Die Hard every Christmas, even if she would rather be watching It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s why the ring on her left hand has not yet disappeared off her finger.

It’s also why she really, really, does not want to answer her phone on her day off.

The name Gary Jennings glares at her from her phone screen, and she groans as she reaches to grab it off the coffee table.

“Santiago.”

“Hi, Sarge, it’s me, Gary – “

“It’s my day off,” Amy grumbles, letting her copy of Pride and Prejudice fall into her lap. “Give me this one day of peace. Please.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry, but – “

“Is someone hurt? Someone dying?”

“Um, no, but – “

“Then find a way to deal with it,” she interrupts, trying vainly to keep the exasperation from entering her voice. “Please and thank you.”

She hangs up without listening to him apologize, and has barely returned to her book when her phone rings again.

“What?” She snaps, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Did you just hang up on Jennings?”

Amy sighs as Rosa’s gruff voice comes through the receiver. “Why, did something happen?”

“You could say that,” Rosa says, and something in her voice makes the hair on Amy’s neck stand up. “You should really get here. Now.”

Amy somewhat reluctantly slides her bookmark between the pages, stretching her legs before getting off the couch. “Okay. Give me twenty.”

She parks the car with a vague apprehension, and as the elevator doors ding open on the fourth floor, it takes her a few seconds to understand what is happening.

The bullpen is full, for starters – all of her uniformed officers are there, plus a bunch of people she doesn’t recognize, and as she takes a cautious step forward she notices the top of Rosa’s hair among the sea of people.

“Hey,” she yells over the noise, fighting her way through the crowd. “What’s going on?”

Rosa turns, her face sagging with relief at the sight of her. “Oh, good, you’re here. Come with me.”

Amy starts to say, “What – “ but before she can finish her sentence, Rosa’s hand is clamped around her wrist and she’s being dragged away from the bullpen and into the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

“Interrogation room.”

“But why – “

“You’ll see,” Rosa answers roughly as they come to a stop. “Ready?”

“For what?”

By way of answer, Rosa opens the door.

The first thing Amy sees is a wall of beige slamming into her. “Amy!”

She stumbles backwards, arms reflexively rising, but even as adrenaline rushes into her system she feels a chill run down her spine at the voice she has just heard. “Charles?”

“Yeah!” He says happily, releasing her. She sucks in a breath, trying to see if her ribs are broken. “I’m back, I missed you so much, even though I guess I didn’t even know I was gone – is it even possible to miss someone if you’re unconscious? I feel like it is – “

“Boyle,” a dry, lazy drawl says from behind him, “If you say one more word, I will find Thanos myself and ask him to snap us back into oblivion.”

A head full of mousy, brown hair pops up next to Charles, and Amy feels another shock run through her body. “G – Gina?”

“The one and only,” she says, grinning widely. “What up? I am now officially way younger than you – how does it feel to officially be a grandma?“

“I – wait, does that mean – “

“Hi,” another voice says, soft and timid, and Amy’s heart stops in her chest.

Jake makes his way toward the door, his movements nervous and eyes almost shy, and Amy barely notices Rosa dragging Charles and Gina out the door behind her.

A sob makes its way up her throat as the door shuts quietly behind her. “This isn’t real.”

His lip twitches slightly, and he reaches hesitantly for her hand as she tries to remember how to breathe.

“It’s me,” he says softly. “I’m here.”

His hand touches hers, and in that achingly familiar touch, everything comes crashing down around her. She throws herself into him, burying her face in the shirt she thought she’d never see again, and as he wraps her in a tight hug all the grief from the past five years starts to pour out of her.

“I’m sorry,” he says into her hair, his voice wavering slightly, “I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine – “

“Not your fault,” she mumbles, tightening her grip on his shirt. “Thanos is a dick.”

Jake laughs, watery and shaky but very much him, and the sound makes her heart soar.

“Never thought I’d hear that laugh again.”

He quiets at that, his hands stilling against her back.

“Ames, I – “

“It’s okay,” she says, pulling back to look at him. “It’s okay – “

“No, it’s not,” he says, his voice tight with pain. “I can’t imagine what a mess I’d be if it had been you instead. I just – five years. God.”

She clears her throat, holding desperately onto his shirt as if it may dissolve into ash at any moment. “How – do you know if this is permanent? I mean, are you – is this – “

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Holt said he’d brief us all later, but apparently they brought us back and then killed him, so there really isn’t – I mean, this is it.”

Amy lets out a shaky breath and nods, forcing herself to smile. “You did miss a lot,” she says, trying valiantly to lighten the mood. “My squad is so dope now, Rosa and her girlfriend showed up in matching outfits one day, and Holt and Kevin renewed their vows – “

“They did what?”

She grins. “Yeah, and I got to speak at the ceremony – “

“Oh, my God,” Jake says, looking genuinely offended, “I cannot believe my two dads held a vow renewal and my wife spoke and I wasn’t there. Tell them to do it again. They have to do it again, right? I’m, like, practically their son – “

“We can talk about it,” she laughs. “Later.”

His expression softens, and the longer she stares at him the more it starts to sink in.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Later.”

And there is so much to talk about, so much they need to talk about, but for the moment, none of that is important. Because their friends are waiting for them outside, together for the first time in five years, and there are drinks to drink and proper reunions to be had.

Time is a fickle, dangerous thing – Amy knows that now. But it is also the vessel through which one moves through the world, and as she walks out of the precinct, holding hands with someone she thought she’d never see again, she feels nothing but grateful.

They have lost more time than they can count, but they have, too, gained it back. And now – now, they have all of it they need.

#im-a-rocketman #finished prompts #my fics #b99 #jake x amy #peraltiago #my b99 fics

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curls-cat · 5 years

Text

cut me to the quick; sew me up again

Puck tries to be nice. Sabrina has the worst luck, though, so of course it backfires. And of course she gets hurt.

Read it on AO3 | Sisters Grimm | Puckabrina | Inspired by a conversation with @advisortotheadvisor

***

Everyone knows Granny is a terrible driver, and most of the time it’s not a big deal. Mr. Canis can drive, and so can Uncle Jake, Henry, and Veronica.

Unfortunately, they’re not always available. This week is one of those times. Uncle Jake is off doing… something. Something too dangerous for Puck to come (Puck pouted for about six hours when Jake told him that). Mr. Canis has a broken arm because he keeps forgetting that he’s pretty much a regular old man now and he can’t do things like catch stupid four-year-olds when they try to do dumb things like jump off the roof (Basil cried apologies the whole way to the emergency room). Henry and Veronica are in the city for their jobs.

Sabrina thought she’d wanted to go back to NYC. Once she got there, though, it was too hard to forget all the bad things that had happened to her there. And then, when Moth did that whole kidnapping-and-trying-to-kill-her thing again, they’d decided to up and move back in with Granny, to Daphne’s delight. But the jobs were still in the city, so during the week Henry and Veronica were often away for days at a time. Sabrina had a cell phone now, and she made them video chat her every day. Just in case. (The first time Veronica forgot Sabrina had nearly had a panic attack. She’s better now. Mostly.)

Anyway, the long and the short of it is that Granny had to drive Mr. Canis to the ER. Everyone else came, too, for various reasons. Sabrina came because Basil refused to be left at home (“What if Mr. Canis dies, Sabby? What if he dies and it’s my fault?”) and, even though she knew it was stupid, she had the vague idea that if she was in the car, she could Granny from driving everyone off the road.

They’re on their way back, now. Mr. Canis, a little out of it on the painkillers they’d put in his IV, crossed himself before he got into the car, which Sabrina completely understands.

The car always runs louder than usual when Granny is driving it, but Sabrina can still hear squeals of glee over the noise as she’s pulled by centrifugal force against the door, so hard her head cracks against the window. One of the people screaming like this is a theme park ride is Puck, of course. The other one, surprisingly, is Red.

Sabrina works her arm up between her head and the window and braces herself. With her other hand, she grabs Basil’s booster seat, white-knuckle tense.

***

They come to a squealing halt at home, without hitting anything other than the curb. Against all odds. The stop throws Sabrina so hard against her seat belt that it cuts off her airways for a second and she’s sure she’s going to bruise. She hears a clunk as Mr. Canis’ cast hits the front of the car.

She gingerly unties the rope that is Basil’s seatbelt and helps him out of the car, ducking under the window. The roof, a replacement for the one Puck ripped off in a hissy fit back before… everything, really-- well, it’s actually a truckbed cap, the kind of thing people put on the backs of their fords so they can pretend they’re not actually trucks, and are instead… what? SUV limos? Sabrina doesn’t know. Either way, it’s messily warped and welded/screwed into the body of the car, and it means the windows don’t open when the doors do on the passenger’s side. She and Basil have to sort of shimmy their way out through the footwell.

She waits until Granny’s out of earshot to say, “She needs to be stopped.”

“What, you didn’t have fun?” Puck asks. “Red did, and she’s a mouse.”

The mouse in question blushes a little and says, “I was scared, but I liked it anyway.”

Sabrina decides to ignore this and just says, “She’s going to get someone killed. With my luck, probably me.

Puck looks thoughtfully at her for a second, which is always a bad sign. Even worse, he doesn’t argue with her. He just says, “Yeah. You do have a track record.”

***

Puck fills Granny’s car with broken glass.

Sabrina doesn’t know how he did it. She doesn’t want to know. She just stands and looks at the car, which is literally full of shards of glass. Without turning to look at Puck, she asks, “Why.”

Puck sounds a little hurt. “I thought you’d be happy. It’ll keep her from driving.”

Now she does turn to look at him, because this is one of those times he’s trying to be nice and, despite how very bad he is at it, Daphne keeps reminding her that it’s good to encourage him if she wants it to stick.

He’s smiling at her, a little smile that’s kind of heart-wrenching in its crooked hopefulness. It’s probably a load of bull, but the smile tugs at her heartstrings, so instead she just rolls her eyes at him. She’s smiling, too, a little.

“Idiot. How are the rest of us going to get anywhere?”

Puck makes a thoughtful face. It’s nearly a foot above Sabrina’s head because he’s had another growth spurt and she has yet to have any growth spurt, and she wishes she could reach up and shove it off his face because it’s not a look she’s seen very often and she doesn’t know how to respond to it. It’s doing things to her. Her stomach flip-flops back and forth.

“Huh,” he says. “I didn’t think of that.”

Daphne, who has apparently been standing on the porch listening, sing-songs “I guess you’ll have to fly us places.”

***

Puck does have to fly them places. He’s not happy about it, but he does it. He even picks up groceries, and takeout once. Sabrina comes with him for the takeout, because she doesn’t trust him not to mess up her order on purpose. He does mess up the groceries, but she’s not sure if that’s on purpose or not. Granny sends him back to buy more.

In the meantime, they work on cleaning out the glass. By the time Henry and Veronica get home for the weekend, it’s pretty much gone. Sabrina’s vacuumed the backseat four times, and Granny took the cover off Basil’s booster seat to wash it, just in case (“You couldn’t have taken the stuff out of the car first?” Sabrina asked, and Puck just said, “But then I’d have needed to get more glass.”)

Veronica drives them to the movies Friday night, and everyone else is fine, but when Sabrina buckles her seat belt, she winces, pulls the seat belt away from her chest. There’s a bloody piece of glass stuck through the only actual seat belt in the whole car, and it’s just stabbed into her collarbone.

Figures.

She makes a face, carefully worms the glass shard out of the seat belt, dumps it in the trash, and roots around in her mom’s purse for a band-aid.

On the way back, she gets stabbed with a different piece of glass, this one in the back of her seat.

This continues. It doesn’t matter where in the car she sits, pieces of glass keep finding her. She develops a rash of scrapes, mostly on her legs and back, though there’s a particularly annoying one that stabbed straight through her shoe and into the sole of her foot, and another in the pad of her right thumb.

She’d think Puck was doing it, except that Daphne had wanted someone to practice truth spells on anyway, so Sabrina figured why don’t they both get something out of it, and he swore up and down that, hilarious as he found it, he was not responsible for this.

Sabrina just had bad luck. Ordinary, terrible, impossible bad luck.

She took to walking most places.

***

Unfortunately, one cannot walk everywhere, and right after Mr. Canis got his cast off, Puck gets himself and Sabrina detention (she’s not going to admit this to anyone, but it was worth it. She maybe even had fun).

Mr. Canis pulls up to the front of the school three seconds after they reached the edge of the sidewalk, which is pretty impressive timing, even for him. Puck climbs into the car without a second thought, and because she’s in a good mood despite (“not because of, stop smirking, Puck”) detention, she throws her bag into the front seat and opens the back door for herself.

She inspects the car carefully: no glass on the headrest, no glass in the rope that passes for the seat belt, no glass in the footwell. Nothing sticking out of the crack between the seat and its back. No telltale sparkle on the seat itself.

She sits down.

Ow.

Sabrina twists her leg carefully. Sticking out of the back of her knee is a piece of glass nearly the size of her palm. She looks at it for half a second as blood begins to seep out, soaking into her jeans. Then she nods once, braces herself, and grabs the glass by the flat sides.

Pulling it out hurts worse than it did going in, and it takes longer than it should. The glass cut deep.

Very deep.

Once she has the glass out, she feels gingerly at the hole in her pants. She’s been bringing a package of band-aids around with her since this had started, and she wants to see which size to--

Oh.

Okay.

Okay, it’s okay.

“Mr. Canis?” she says, trying to keep her voice steady as she very carefully does not think about what she felt underneath the blood. “I think I maybe need to go to the hospital.”

Mr. Canis meets her eyes in the rear view mirror, apparently sees the truth in them, nods, and pulls a U-turn as aggressive as any of Granny’s maneuvers.

Puck teases, “Aww, did widdle Sabrina get another piece of glass in her--” Puck cuts himself off with a hiss. “That’s--um. Grimm, that’s a lot of blood.”

“Yes, Puck, I know,” Sabrina says tightly. Her left pant leg, from about mid-calf down, is rapidly changing from blue to the ugly purple-brown she got in kindergarten when she tried to make her own purple play-dough.

It hurts a lot, and it’s making it hard for Sabrina to remember the first aid classes Snow gave her. Pressure on the wound, right. Okay. Um. She presses her hand against the back of her knee, but it hurts, and it mostly just presses her hand into the--don’t think about it--gash in her leg.

Puck’s voice has gone kind of funny a he asks, “How much blood do humans have in their body?”

“Four or five liters,” Sabrina says without really noticing that she’s saying it. “Probably less for me, though, ‘cause--”

This is the point where Puck usually cracks a short joke, but he doesn’t, today.

The rug under Sabrina’s foot is getting wet. She scooches out so most of her leg is off the seat, less because of the bloodstain she’s inevitably going to leave on the upholstery than because she wants to see if putting pressure above her knee will work, since the wound itself is a no-go.

“How--” a loud swallow-- “How much is this, d’you think?”

Seriously?

Sabrina, her hands wrapped firmly around the base of her thigh and squeezing as hard as she can, looks at her leg and then at the floor around it, both of which are looking very damp and bloody. “Um. Half a cup, maybe?”

“How much is that in liters?” Puck’s voice sounds weird.

“I don’t know!” she snaps. “I’m a little busy right now.”

She turns to glare at him for being like this right now, and then she sees his face.

Oh.

He’s not being a pain in the butt.

Puck has gone very pale and is shaking the tiniest bit. He’s backed against the far door of the car, his hands up and half curled, looking like he’s not sure whether to reach towards her or pull back.

Sabrina’s hands have gone a little slippery and definitely a lot shaky. And Puck… looks about as bad as she feels. But his hands are bigger than hers, and she knows they’re stronger, and she’d like to keep as much blood in her body as possible, so she lets go of her leg, drags Puck across the seat by the wrist, and places his hand on the underside of her leg, right above the knee.

“Squeeze,” she tells him.

He blinks at her, still white and shaky.

She puts his other hand on her leg, too, and says, “You put pressure on open wounds. To close the blood vessels some, keep the blood inside.”

He blinks again.

Sabrina pushes at his hands.

Puck gets the memo, and his hands stay put, pressing firmly into her leg.

Sabrina notes, absently, that his hands go all the way around her leg, that his thumbs overlap. Does he have big hands or is she just really skinny?

She might be going into shock, a little.

Yeah, she’s in a lot of pain. Probably shock. Okay.

She doesn’t have anything to do anymore, now that Puck is putting pressure on the wound. If she had a knife with her, she could maybe make a tourniquet or something, but she doesn’t. Her mom has this weird “no weapons, magical or otherwise, at school” policy that is maybe a good idea for a daughter who is bad at secrets and another one who is liable to stab first and ask questions later. It’s a bit of a pain right now, though.

Although she’s shaking pretty bad. She’d probably stab herself again if she tried to cut off part of her shirt, and wouldn’t that be just perfect?

Still. She needs to be doing something. She’s always been terrible at sitting still, and her leg hurts.

Something occurs to her, and abruptly, she starts giggling.

Puck turns his head, face still pale, to look at her.

“Wouldn’t,” she says, “Wouldn’t it be hilarious, if I died from this? Hundreds of people and monsters tried to kill me, and I bleed out from a piece of glass in my leg?”

Puck, if possible, goes even paler, and his hands clench a little harder at her thigh. “Don’t say that,” he says. “It’s not funny.”

It is a little funny, though. She’s tried so hard to stay safe, to run from magic as if that’ll keep her healthy and happy, and the worst injury she’s ever had comes from a piece of glass in he grandmother’s car.

And what even is the point, then, if she can’t stay safe? What’s the point of blaming magic for all the things that’ve gone wrong in her life if so much of it comes from plain ol’ bad luck?

“Maybe I should just give up,” she says thoughtfully.

Puck gives her the panicked look again. “Give up? Grimm, you’re too tough for that. Don’t you dare.”

Huh. She’d’ve thought he’d be happy if she stopped acting like the magical world was responsible for all her problems. If she settled into her destiny like Daphne. If she stopped acting like a huge part of what makes Puck Puck was bad.

***

It occurs to her much later that Puck thought she was talking about dying.

Things went a little hazy in the car ride after that bit. She remembers being carried into the ER. She remembers pain, and loud noises, and Puck’s hands still gripping tight around her leg until Mr. Canis had to practically rip him off.

Now she’s in a bed in a little room off the ER. A nurse came in a while ago (probably about twenty minutes, but it feels like a lot longer) and told her that they want her to run through the IV bag they’ve given her before they think about sending her home.

She looks at Puck, who is definitely trying to get into trouble with the medical equipment stashed in cabinets on the other side of the room, and says, “When I said I should give up, back in the car. Did you think I meant, like, on living?”

Puck doesn’t turn around to look at her. She can see a box of gloves in his hands. That’s probably not a big deal. How much trouble can he possibly get into with rubber gloves? (Besides. She’s tired, and injured. It shouldn’t be her problem to keep him out of trouble, especially not when she’s lying in a hospital bed.)

“I… um… what were you talking about?” he asks.

Sabrina snorts. “You totally did. Idiot,” she says fondly.

Puck throws the box of gloves at her. It hits her in the stomach, not hard.

“Watch it,” she says. “I’m wounded.”

She’s a little out of it on the painkillers they gave her, and the aggravation game they usually play seems a lot more fun than usual, even if Puck won’t look at her.

He seems like he’s taking a long time to answer her, and there’s no quip about how she’s a wuss, or it’s just a flesh wound, or anything like that.

“Puck?” she asks, finally. “You okay?”

“I’ve never seen that much blood before,” he says. “I thought--”

Okay. It was a bad injury, yeah. She needed six stitches. She’s gonna need to use crutches for a while because she sliced into a ligament or a tendon or something. But the doctors and nurses hadn’t seemed too worried. Just businesslike.

Puck was worried about her.

“Humans are resilient,” she says. They’d talked about it in biology, a few months ago. Puck probably hadn’t been paying attention. “It’d take more than that to kill somebody.”

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” Puck snaps, still not looking at her. “There was all that blood, and you’re so tiny, and you were talking about dying and giving up and all I could think about was what I’d do if you died because I--”

Oh.

She almost forgot the glass was Puck’s idea, was the result of Puck trying, in that bass-ackwards way of his, to be nice. And he’d thought, he’d actually been scared she was going to-- and that it’d be his fault, because he tried to do something for her.

She needs to do something about this right now or he’s never going to try to be nice again.

It would be easier if he’d look at her, though.

She throws the box of gloves back at him, wishing Mr. Canis hadn’t gone home to get Granny, so he could say something terse and wise to make Puck stop feeling guilty. The box, contrarily, doesn’t make it all the way to Puck and instead lands on the floor and bounces into his shoe. Stupid painkillers. Stupid blood loss.

All she can come up with to say is, “Don’t you dare try to take credit for this. It was my weird bad luck and I will not let you claim it as a Trickster King accomplishment.

Puck leans down to pick up the box of gloves, and when he stands up straight again, he finally looks at her.

The walls are nearly the same color as his hair, a plain yellowy color, but his hair is shiny and curling and makes the walls look even more bland than they had before. Sabrina can’t read the expression on his face.

There are things they don’t talk about, the two of them. Puck is growing up, and still a good foot taller than she is. Sabrina woke him up from a sleeping spell three years ago and the way she feels about him hasn’t changed. Their fights with each other have a rhythm to them like a dance, or a sparring match. Last week when she bested him at a sword fight (rare, but getting more common), she couldn’t resist lifting his chin with the flat point of her blade so he had to look her in the eyes as he said “I yield,” and it had felt electric.

But they don’t name this thing between them, that keeps him here as often, if not more, as he’s off with Uncle Jake.They don’t do anything.

Sabrina thinks maybe if they had, she’d know what to call the expression on Puck’s face.

“Seriously,” she says, when she can’t stand the silence anymore, the way he’s looking at her, “It’s not your fault.”

Puck gives her the tiniest crooked smile, there and gone again in a flash. But the tension is gone, and instead of looking unfathomable and full of a deep longing desperation, he just looks tired.

She grins at him. “You were worried about me.”

Puck leans back against the formica counter behind him and says, “Never.”

With uncanny timing, Daphne bursts through the door to jump on top of Sabrina, babbling about being worried and Sabrina having the worst luck. Mr. Canis and Granny follow her in, and then Pinocchio and Red, and one of them says something about Sabrina’s parents heading up on the next train, and the hospital room is suddenly very loud and crowded. Sabrina meets Puck’s eyes over the top off her sister’s head, and he smiles at her again, still a small and tired smile, but a real one. She smiles back. They’re going to be okay.

#sisters grimm #puckabrina #sabrina grimm #the sisters grimm

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skeletorific · 6 years

Text

Less Muscle Than a Frown- A Bones and Brew Commission Fic

Whew, this has been a long time coming! I wrote this piece for @frankpanioncube who has been so completely generous and patient with me in all of this!

If any of you are interested in commissioneng me, feel free to DM me.

Also, light disclaimer: I do get into this a little bit, but I want to make it clear now, I’m doing my best to avoid the “girl not smiling? must be a bitch we need to fix this” trope. So I will get it out of the way that while my commissioner did request female pronouns, this story would have been the same for he/him and they/them.

They didn’t know what to make of her.

They’d had customers who weren’t into their schtick before. Coffee shops inevitably got a lot of one-time customers just looking for a caffeine fix on their way through life. Some people weren’t into the energy they had going in the shop. Which was usually fine. Unless they were assholes. Then it was less fine.

But she wasn’t a one-time customer. She was in pretty much every morning, the same thing ordered every time, around the same time every day. She didn’t seem to dislike any of them. But she was just so...

“Stone-cold” Stretch mused, watching her as she walked out the door.

“PAPY, BE NICE.” Blue chided absently, working on a frappucino.

“Can’t help it, bro.” He made a show of shuddering, lazy grin on his face as he leaned back against the counter. The cafe was closing in a couple minutes for their weekly staff meeting, leaving them to chat freely. “Did you see the look on her face when I tried joking with her again? Like talking to a mannequin. Couldn’t even tell if she got it. No smile, nothin.”

“be fair, maybe that’s cause it was one of your jokes,” Rus said quietly, smirking.

Stretch tossed a dishrag at him.

“PERHAPS SHE’S SIMPLY HAVING A BAD DAY,” Papyrus said. He was mopping across the room but the skeleton had sharp ears (metaphorically) for gossip.

“Talkin about the ice queen?” Sans said from the corner table. “She must be havin a bad day a lot then. I mean, has anyone here seen her smile?”

.....

Silence.

“Eeeexactly.”

“WELL, NOT EVERYONE IS NATURALLY EXPRESSIVE.” Papyrus insisted.

“SHE KEEPS HERSELF IN CHECK. I CAN RESPECT THAT.” Black mused.

“I mean, not that I don’t appreciate the merit of keepin your shit to yourself, but honestly, I can’t get a handle on her.” Red was picking his teeth with a toothpick. “Almost like she doesn’t like us or something”

“IF SHE DIDN’T LIKE US, WOULDN’T SHE STOP COMING?” Blue said.

“Maybe she just likes the coffee.”

“MAYBE ALL OF YOU DON’T HAVE ENOUGH TO DO SINCE YOU’RE SPENDING TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS.” Edge grumbled, coming out of the office finally. Stretch and Rus exchanged an eye roll.

“c’mon, boss, you can’t pretend you’re not a little curious.”

“I AM DECIDEDLY NOT.”

“I bet I could crack her.” Stretch said.

“Pfft, how much.” Rus said.

“20 g.”

“man, you must really like giving me your money.”

“alright, why don’t we make this interesting then. if you crack her first I’ll give you 40.”

Rus smirked. “You sure you wanna make this a contest?” He crossed his arms.

“CONTEST?” Black said, eyelights brightening as he straightened up a bit. Blue acted like he wasn’t listening but it was pretty obvious his attention had perked up too.

“Yeah, hot topic, you want in?”

Rus shot Stretch a warning look but Black hardly seemed to notice the editorial. “HMM...WELL, I HAVE LESS TIME WITH HER THAN THE REST OF YOU...BUT I MAKE UP FOR IT BY HAVING ACTUAL CHARM, SO WHY NOT.”

“COME ON,” Papyrus said, frowning slightly. “IT'S NOT REALLY ANY OF OUR BUSINESS. IF SHE’S NOT SMILING, IT'S BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T FEEL LIKE IT. IT'S NOT OUR PLACE TO FORCE IT OUT OF HER.”

“Hey, no one’s forcin anythin” Red said. “If she don’t want to, she just won’t.”

“That mean you’re in?”

“Yeah, sure. Could use the cash. Plus....she’s kinda hot.” He grinned wolfishly.

“Pfft, figures.” Sans said. Red shoved his shoulder.

“Shuddup, you in or not.”

“Yeeeah why not.” Sans caught the disapproving look from his brother and shrugged, smiling somewhat apologetically. “Sorry, bro. Just lookin to mess with these nutjobs. Besides, it's not like we’re really hurtin anyone. Could do her some good even.”

Papyrus sighed. “IT JUST...FEELS INTRUSIVE.”

“How bout you, bro,” Stretch said, noting his brother was feigning far more interest in piling whipped cream on his drink than was necessary.

“WELL....” He was mulling it over, clearly empathizing with Papyrus’ sentiment but also chronically unable to avoid a contest of any kind. “....I SUPPOSE SMILING IS GOOD FOR YOU. AND REALLY, THE ONLY THING WE’LL BE DOING IS TRYING TO MAKE HER HAPPY OR LAUGH, RIGHT?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“...OK. IF ONLY TO KEEP ALL OF YOU IN CHECK.” blue said sternly.

Stretch grinned. “Of course bro.”

Black muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely challenging.

“how bout you, boss?” Red said. “You in-”

“I CANNOT IMAGINE A BIGGER WASTE OF TIME’ Edge said, flipping through a binder that held records of the store’s financials. “NOW CAN YOU ALL STOP TALKING NONSENSE SO WE CAN GET THIS MEETING UNDERWAY?”

The contest began in earnest the next day. Rus, moving quickly, managed to maneuver himself into the cashier spot before the others even noticed her come in.

“Hey, sugar, how you doin?” He said, drawling in a slightly lower tone.

The woman didn’t so much as blink. “Medium double shot macchiato-”

“-with soy milk and a caramel drizzle.” He finished smoothly. “I remember.”

She seemed slightly taken aback. “Um....yes. Please.”

Good, he’d thrown her off balance. Now to hit with the big guns. He punched it into the cash register and looked up without moving his heads, hitting her with a 1000 watt grin. This thing was a force to be reckoned with. People behind her in line were already getting visibly flustered.

“That’ll be $4.65, darlin” He was practically purring it out, already mentally counting his gold...

A crumpled five dollar bill was shoved in his hand without so much an eye twitch. “Keep the change. Thank you” And she was gone.

Rus was left frozen in place. What the...

“U-um..I’ll have you-...uh!!” stammered the (very red-faced) gentleman who was next in line. “I mean....”

Stretch chuckled to himself as he started making the drink. Cocky bastard really did think he was hot shit with that. Still, seemed she wasn’t into his brand of flirting. Now, for an old standby...he subtly rolled his shoulder while he worked until he heard a familiar pop that made every one of his coworkers wince and glare at him.

“Double shot macchiato, soy, and caramel?” He said, pretending to scan the store like he didn’t know right where she was.

She stepped forward, holding her hand out. “Thanks.”

“Eh no problem.” He held the coffee out but didn’t hand it off properly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Um...”

“Go on and take it, all ready for ya.” He said with an innocent smile.

.....

She reached over and took it....pulling his arm off his body as she took it.

A couple of people in the shop yelped. She didn’t seem to have a reaction, just staring at the detached limb wrapped firmly around her cup of coffee.

“Ah, sorry about that.” He reached over and pried it off, fighting a grin. “Guess I was disarmed by your sunshiney presence.”

Nothing.

“Might have to hit the pharmacy for this” He said, examining the arm.

.....

“....Nah, guess with a little elbow grease I can get this to work.” He rolled up his sleeve. Come on, come on, that delayed laugh...

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“...what?”

“Popping your arm out like that.”

“...no....not really...”

“Hm.” She nodded and walked off.

Rus burst out laughing once she left.

Stretch tossed his arm at him.

The next day Blue and Black decided to team up. Blue waited until he saw her car pull in and immediately wheeled out the mop bucket, starting to drench the floor in a way that would have made Edge rave about warping the floor if he had been there. He put up a wet floor sign while Black positioned himself so he could catch her once she inevitably slipped.

Blue did his best to keep his eye on his work, but he couldn’t help but hold his breath in anticipation as she walked past the storefront windows. The bell rang over the door as she entered, and Black tensed himself to pounce...

Squish squish squish. “Double shot macchiato, soy milk with caramel drizzle please.”

....No-slip shoes.

Black was cursing mentally, looking around the room for something to slide. Maybe if he got it under her feet-

“w-WOAH-”

He saw the figure sliding towards him out of the corner of his eye and before he could react he found himself knocked down. Another one of their regulars, who was bright red as they struggled to pull themselves off him. Coffee had drenched his shirt, and by the time Blue had helped the two of them to their feet he was soaked through. His tackler was apologizing profusely but Blue ushered them off before Black could realize his favorite leather jacket had probably just been ruined. The purple-toned skeleton was cursing to himself when he came back and stripping his upper clothes.

“I-I’m really sorry, there wasn’t a sign so I didn’t realize-”

“ITS QUITE ALRIGHT” he assured. Wait, no sign? Blue and Black’s heads snapped towards their brothers, who were hiding grins. Stretch was shifting something further behind the counter. Black looked downright murderous.

“WHY DON’T YOU GO ASK THEM TO REPLACE YOUR COFFEE. ON THE HOUSE.” Blue said quickly, nudging them in the direction of the counter while grabbing the mop and moving to distract Black.

“WELL...BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME?”

“THIS. MEANS. WAR.”

Next day the Fell and Tale brothers were on staff.

Papyrus and Edge continued to show no interest in the competition, Edge displaying visible irritation every time the subject came up and Papyrus lecturing the other four for nearly an hour about safety hazards after he found out about the mop stunt.

As for the other two...

“You wanna know what their problem was?” Red said, giving the counter a half-assed wipe. “goin practical. Stunts. Gags. too many movin parts means more chance that somethin’s gonna go wrong”

“True enough.” Sans said distractedly. He was currently more focused on stacking cups into a pyramid. Slow day.

“Now me, just gonna rely on the natural charm”

“Oh, then you’re for sure gonna lose.”

“Shut up man”

“Didn’t Rus already try flirting?”

“Rus tried smilin. Cocky bastard think’s that’s all it takes.”

“Since when are you Suzie social skills.”

“since 40 g was on the line. Now shut up, here she comes.”

Here she came indeed. The ice queen cometh. Red’s eyelights lit on the bass guitar strapped across her back.

Perfect.

“The usual, please,” she said, handing over her card.

“Comin right up, doll.” He punched it in and swiped the card. “So, you play that thing?”

“What?” She seemed to suddenly remember what she was carrying. “Oh, yeah. Guitar too.”

“You in a band, or...”

She shrugged. “Sometimes. I uh...also do a little background work for some local studios. If they need it. Its kind of free-lance I guess?”

This was the most he’d heard her talk in a while. No smile yet, but...He could feel Sans watching him from the machine and smirked slightly.

“So you’re good then. Professional.” He leaned forward on the counter.

“I um...like to think so, yes.”

“Y’know, Paps has been talking about trying to do an open mic night around here. you should come. Show me whatcha got.” He grinned.

“My music isn’t exactly open mic friendly. It's...a lot of death metal.”

....woah. Hot.

“That’s cool. Like, the screaming kind.”

“A little bit...”

“Here’s your order” Sans cut across him, shoving the coffee in between them and startling them both.

Red shot him a glare.

“Oh. Thanks.” She took it and turned to walk away.

Red suddenly caught a glimpse of a familiar pink shape on the ground. Oh shit, how the-

“Wait-”

PBBBBBBBTTTTT

She jumped, nearly spilling her coffee and looking down at the ground. A whoopee cushion.

Sans was losing his shit next to him.

She shook her head and continued walking.

PBT-PBT-PBT-PBT

Oh gods oh gods oh gODS- Sans’ eye was lit up blue with magic, pushing the cushion under her feet again and again with every step. She picked up the pace, practically running out of the store, which only added to the surreal hilariousness of the situation.

Red tackled Sans to the ground but by then it was too late and she was out the door. Sans was practically crying with laughter, gasping for air.

“I!! Hate!!! You!!!!” he said, shaking him by his shirt.

“Cmon, like you wouldn’t have done it if you’d thought of it.” Sans said, wrestling out of his grip

Red pulled him back into a headlock. “I was really fuckin close, dude!!!”

“Owowowow ok ok I give.”

He was about to refuse but then saw Edge glaring at him from the office. Red sighed and turned him loose, still fuming.

“Hey, cmon.”

“Asshole.”

“.....wanna do it to the next customer....”

“......yeah”

It was a long day for Edge.

The tactics only grew more and more ridiculous with each passing day. Rus seemed absolutely undone by the failure of his charms and suddenly was laser focusing his flirtation, much to the jealousy of his other customers. Stretch managed to negotiate a truce with Blue and Black and the practical jokes rose to a near dangerous degree. Red kept trying to resume the conversation but Sans ran interference every time. He seemed to have given up on attempting to win the bet and was instead focused on ruining for everyone else.

It was bedlam in the coffee shop whenever she came in. Edge tried to act as a restraint on it, but he couldn’t be on staff every minute of the day.

And still, nothing.

No response. Even kinder gestures seemed ill-fated. Blue tried leaving nice notes on her cup and the ink simply smeared on her hand. Black snuck flowers into her car only to see her a moment later trying to shoo several large bees out of her car. Pastries? Allergies. Red tried changing the playlist for a few days to death metal but had to turn it off after the sound was so loud that customers were forced to scream at them to communicate their orders.

If anything she grew more and more closed off with each passing day. She became jumpy whenever they got near and had taken to examining every drink they handed over for little extras (blame Rus for that one, he dumped some chocolates into her drink and they nearly choked her.)

All of them were there that day. Another staff meeting was due, they were just finishing up the last of it. She came in, ordered her drink, and then went to the bathroom. Papyrus, as had been his won't lately whenever he was on staff and she showed up, made a point to get between them and her whenever possible. He took her order with his usual friendliness and then went to make her drink.

“SHE’S BEEN DOING THAT A LOT THIS LAST WEEK” Black noted.

“what?” Sans asked.

“IT'S LIKE CLOCKWORK. SHE ORDERS, SHE GOES TO THE BATHROOM FOR A FEW MINUTES, AND THEN COMES OUT AND TAKES IT IN A HURRY.”

“.....huh.”

“Could mean nothing.” Stretch said quickly.

“....OR SHE COULD BE HIDING.” Blue said quietly.

“Uh...what? Bro, come on, why would she be hiding.”

“IF SHE’S HIDING, SHE’S HIDING FROM ALL OF YOU.”

Heads turned in the cafe. None of them but Sans had heard Papyrus sound that fed up with anything but the Annoying Dog.

“Pfft, what, she allergic to politeness now,” Rus said. His ego had never really recovered from his flirtation being so utterly ignored.

“ALL OF YOU HAVE BEEN INCREDIBLY OVERBEARING.” he was mixing furiously, a slight glare on his face like the machine had personally offended him. “ALL SHE WANTS TO DO IS MIND HER OWN BUSINESS AND GET SOME COFFEE, BUT INSTEAD THE SIX OF YOU HAVE SPENT THE PAST MONTH HARASSING HER JUST BECAUSE YOU DON’T THINK SHE SMILES ENOUGH.”

“...I mean, when you put it like that, uh...” Stretch tried for an awkward chuckle. “Sounds a bit-”

“CREEPY? UNKIND? OVER-THE-LINE?”

“WE DIDN’T MEAN ANY HARM!” Blue said, looking slightly upset as the realization hit him.

“IT DOESN’T CHANGE THE FACT THAT IT WASN’T A VERY GOOD THING TO DO. WE’RE HER BARISTAS, NOT HER MOTHER. OUR JOB IS TO MAKE OUR CUSTOMERS COMFORTABLE AND YOU-” He was squeezing the cup to tight and it popped out of his hand, hitting the wall and splashing everywhere. “SARD!!!”

“bro, we-”

He went to the back of the store to get a cleaning rag (and a new cup), looking visibly irritated.

“....shit.”

“I mean....just cause he read it like that, doesn’t mean she did...” Red said, scrambling for an excuse.

“Nah....nah he’s right.” Stretch said after a minute. “Went too far for a joke that...honestly wasn’t that funny.”

“I CAN.....ADMIT THAT I WOULDN’T APPRECIATE IT. IF SOMEONE DID IT TO ME.” Black said reluctantly.

“So what do we do now?” Rus said.

“WE SHOULD APOLOGIZE.”

“I’ll do it.” Stretch said. “I started this bet so...I’ll apologize.”

“Think free coffee for a week or so will make it up?” Rus said.

“I’ll talk to boss about it,” Red said. “But...he’ll probably go for it. If for nothin else than to get us to quit.”

She came out from the bathroom and seemed slightly let down that her coffee wasn’t there waiting. She stood near the exit, looking slightly uncomfortable and checking her phone over and over.

Stretch sighed and went over. “Uh...hey.”

She looked up, dread filling her eyes.

“Its fine, I just...wanted to talk.”

“U-um..actually I have this call I need to make. Can it wait?”

“....sure.”

She walked outside, lifting her phone to her ear. She kept walking towards the parking lot.

Stretch sighed. Shit...

“WAIT, DID SHE LEAVE?!” Papyrus had emerged, looking alarmed.

“uh...I think so...”

“SHE ALREADY PAID!” He was moving like a whirlwind, knocking several things out of his way in his efforts to get the drink brewed. The others were forced to back away from the growing typhoon of activity.

“Wait, bro-”

He finished it, faster than should be technically possible, and bolted out the door.

They didn’t see him for nearly an hour, by which time business had picked up and none of them had the free time to ask him what happened. He didn’t mention it again, and all of them forgot it had even happened until the next day.

She came in the next morning around her usual time. Stretch was running counter and managed to detail out an apology that sounded surprisingly sincere. No mean feat for Stretch. Her expression didn’t change much, but she seemed to untense a bit and was mostly gracious about it. She accepted the apology and tried to waive the chance for free coffee until Stretch insisted. She didn’t smile. But she seemed...pleased.

Rus started making her drink. Papyrus emerged from the kitchen with a pan full of fresh lemon bread.

“OH, WELCOME BACK! IT'S NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN.”

She turned. “Oh, it's you!”

And her face split into the most breathtaking smile.

Rus damn near dropped the cup. Stretch’s eyelights briefly sputtered and it took genuine effort to stop his jaw from literally dropping.

“THE AUDITION WENT OK?”

“Yeah, thanks for making sure I got the caffeine. Can’t believe I almost walked away without it.” Her eyes were bright and expressive and holy shit, it was real, it was real and hAPPENING IN FRONT OF THEM-

Somehow Rus managed to hand her her drink without incident.

“I should go. Bye Papyrus”

“GOODBYE! HAVE A GOOD DAY!”

She gave him another smile...and was out the door.

“Wha...” Stretch turned on Papyrus “how-?!”

He shrugged and disappeared back into the kitchen.

“.....how even-”

“Do we still have to pay him?!”

“I don’t think-...the bet was canceled right?!”

And Papyrus only smiled to himself.

#long post #commission fic #bones and brew #one shot #sans #papyrus #undertale #underfell #underswap #swapfell #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #us!sans #us!papyrus #sf!sans #sf!papyrus #headcanon #fanfic

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migleefulmoments · 6 years

Text

Did I make her mad?

I seem to have ruffled Ajw’s feather. I left her a message- always anon or she won’t read them. I know this because used my username for years and they are ignored. So here we are with a LONG response to her answer.

It started here: The CCers tried to change the history of Darren and Mia *you can read their entire exchange here*

But here is the part I was responding to:

ajw720

Agreed light bearding started April 2011, heavy bearding when they moved her to LA in Fall 2012. In between I do think they considered other, more famous options but went with her as she is the only person that they could “prove” pre-C. And the CC relationship was their major obstacle and the thing they knew they had to hide to make D straight.

This being said, the article is WRONG if they are following the PR narrative that says they started to date in June 2010 and that is what the “7 ½ crazy and adventurous years came from.” A narrative that was spun in 2015.

M herself would love to claim college as she is desperate to say Not Alone is about her.

So yes, it is likely they “met” in college, but I doubt it was more than a night out at a bar at most.

So I asked her:

Come on, you know there are several public pics of M and D together before his "Blaine' audition hair cut. IDK if you have been in a serious relationship but how it works is you start out seeing each there occasionally and then as you get closer and fall more in love you start doing more and more together until you get married. Being in a long distance relationship means that can all take a little longer. Going out more publicly AFTER she moved & over time is how that works.

My responses to her comments are in Italics:

Dearest Michigan,

I really do make an effort to ignore you and your nonsense, but I just could not resist. I know on your blog you have questioned my credentials, well I must say, I question yours and I highly recommend you enroll in a grammar school level reading comprehension program. I have two master’s degrees and undergrad from Michigan, but thanks for the advice. First, who is disagreeing that they knew each other pre-g/lee? That is a fact, a fact i state often and frequently and no one that I have encountered here who has any knowledge refutes this fact. Yet you keep repeating this like we are unaware, both in this ask, and in your absolutely comical analysis of the handshake completely based on the the false premise that we think this is when M&D met. Please stop putting words in our mouths and READ critically.

Well let me leave just a couple of receipts as to why I keep saying that:

This exchange on 11/20 regarding the Trevor Live 2012 video that they have claimed over and over shows Michael introducing Mia and Darren and Darren shakes her hand. I proved that is not what happened here .

1. flowersintheattic254

I’ve never seen this video before and wondered if anyone else new here had? Apologies for putting her on your dash, but it’s useful to have a gentle reminder that this is and always was a business arrangement. Watch them shake hands under the watchful eye PR at Trevor 2012 and D proceed to ignore her. #because most people shake hands with their SO right 9/

2. Anonymous asked:

So glad theTrevor clip exists. That’s my go to when people ask for proof. They had been “together” for 2 yrs. Question on the timing. Does this coincide with the “confirmation” date when D was so upset in Canada?

ajw: Hi anon, this was December, confirmation day in Toronto was the following June. But no question, they had moved her to LA and the choice to make her full-time beard and to completely oppress CC had been made. This was right after the BU episode of G/lee, a plot conceived to keep D&C apart. Not a pleasant time in their lives and when everything really changed.

3. ajw: article is WRONG if they are following the PR narrative that says they started to date in June 2010 and that is what the “7 ½ crazy and adventurous years came from.” A narrative that was spun in 2015.

4. Hi anon. That is likely the correct answer. Her friend dated Jo/e W when they were in college and I believe she maybe visited U of M one weekend.

That being said, to be clear, if they met then, and it is not 100% substantiated, they went to different schools, located in different parts of the country and she graduated before them. They didn’t start dating in college and I would guess they did not keep in touch. The real connection was later when Ch/uck and C/harlene were friendly with her in NYC after they all graduated. And that is how she was chosen to be the beard, the worst decision D ever made.

Second, I am not disputing that from 2010-2011 it was sort of low key, though by April 2011 she was already being speculated about in JJ with pap pics, so maybe we can say it quickly went from low to mid-key.

Yes, this is how relationships work. You meet, you may not start dating right away. Eventually you start talking...maybe a date or two- they were long distance so likely much more talking. Fly to see one another...a few dates... more talking... more flying until she moved to LA. Nothing inconsistent about the story. They started out long distance so there is no doubt the “start date” is debatable to them.

However, she was moved to LA in the fall of 2012 and from that moment forward there was nothing low or mid key about this. That was SIX, count them (unless you need basic math classes as well) SIX years ago. Therefore, a publication CANNOT state that they have been low key dating since 2010. That is a boldface lie. They could say perhaps “they started out under the radar and have since decided to share” but NOT that it has been low key since 2010.

No, no it isn’t a bold face lie. It is literally how REAL LIFE relationships work..you know the unscripted ones. It’s their relationship and THEY get to say when they actually started dating. You could probably win an argument that the fandom didn't KNOW they were dating until 2012, ya know, if you REALLY just need to win.

Since 2012 she has accompanied him to approximately 75% of all of his events, her picture is taken constantly, her image is videoed, her SM is full of him, and recently his SM contains her face. Their “friends” and family talk about them on their public SM constantly, She has been interviewed about him (remember when she claimed she never wanted to be associated with someone famous), and she is mentioned in D’s press constantly and has been for YEARS.

I will say this slowly. They. Are. Engaged. It is normal for her to be with him at events. As many events as they want to attend together. People like love; people like beautiful couples. Photographers and fans are going to take pictures of a beautiful couple in love. Interviewers are going to talk about the engagement and the wedding. It’s we do in America. The problem is you don’t like it. But I’m 100% sure that Darren didn’t ask you for permission. He doesn’t care what you think..

Her friends and family post about them constantly? Everyone’s family talks about family constantly. I’m sure YOUR family talk about you. It’s literally what social media is for- bragging about your kids and perfect life, posting naked belly shots in the gym, and connecting with family and friends. I know you talk about your family on Tumblr and you post your cats and your wine on Tumblr. How does Mia or Darren or their family have less right than you do? I don’t follow the logic and as you say you're a lawyer, I really don’t follow you. Everyone gets to pick what they want to post on their own social media...that is the rule.

As for that article...Mia claimed she never wanted-PAST TENSE- to be with someone famous; it wasn’t something she imagined for herself. That isn’t the same as saying she doesn’t currently want to be with Darren who become famous after they fell in love. I will avoid ridiculing you about your lack of basic English grammar skills.

Yes, she is mentioned in Darren’s press...so what? They are a couple. This is isn’t hard.

So I am unclear why you are asking me about how a relationship works? I certainly understand how it works.

Relationships dear michigan are based on love, friendship, and respect, Three fundamental things missing from the mi/arren relationshit.

Couples KNOW when they met and how long ago it was. But not mi/arren. Was it college? Don Hi/ll’s? In NYC pre-g/lee? They don’t know, but they will be sure to twist the answer each and every time asked. (D actually looked shocked when she said college). But you know what D knows in precise detail? His mandate, when he went to see S/utton F/oster, a story he has recounted approximately 5 times, with g/olden g/lobe winning, NY T/imes best selling author C/hris C/olfer (his constant tribute not mine).

I already outlined how long distance relationships work and there is a vague, nebulous start date. But I also suspect that Darren, who does value his privacy, doesn’t really care to share those kind of details with us. So he gives vague, unimportant responses to that question. There is also the fact that journalists and bloggers do research and don’t always ask every question they cover in an interview. Sometimes they use their research to fill in facts- this can lead to perpetuating something that isn’t 100% accurate but Darren doesn’t care to call them out or correct it because it isn't our business.

As for your mandate. Haven’t you figured out that it is the only Chris Glee story Darren is allowed to share without upsetting Chris? He keeps repeating it because it’s out there already. “Chris hates when you talk about him” so he keeps repeating the same story to feed the Glee nostalgia without getting him upset. Again, this isn’t hard.

Couples know how long they have been dating. Not m/iarren and you would THINK after the encage announcement they would stick to the very public timeline created, yet they don’t. She actually wants you to think they started dating in college, years before 2010.

Nobody cares when they started dating. I couldn't tell you when my husband and I started dating- there are times I can’t remember how many years we have been married or what year we got married- It isn’t important to all people. It means NOTHING in the big scope of the day-to-day struggles of being married and raising kids, and struggling with chronic disabling illnesses that we deal with in our kids. Love isn’t a Disney Prince meets Princess sweeps her offer feet and they live Happily Ever After cuz now she’s a Princess. It isn’t Instagram perfection of big dates, huge romantic gestures and huge diamonds. It’s living with someone and negotiating who does what chores; who cooks and who cleans up dinner; who is taking the kid to PT or the doctor appt that is 3 hours away this week; it’s washing his dirty underwear and getting a puke bucket when the flu hits. It’s missing him because he is gone half the month flying FedEx packages to Dubai, India and China while I am single parenting a lot. In most people’s lives, the date they started dating isn’t that important after you get through a few. Those moments become less important.

When one proposes to their partner after “7 ½ crazy and adventurous years” I would hope they would know the person well enough to buy them a ring that they would love and cherish. And in turn I would hope the recipient loved the ring, even if not their dream, because it is a symbol of love and devotion. Not mi/arren, D apparently got in wrong FOUR times as she is now wearing ring number FIVE, an indisputable fact. And no, multimillionaire D did not buy FOUR place holders.

You have very childlike ideas of what relationships and engagements are like. I haven’t worn a wedding ring in years, nobody cares. Mia wore one engagement ring from January to January- she added other rings to the stack at times which seems to have confused you that it was different rings. I saw your picture proof and those are all the same diamond ring. She just got a beautiful ring on GG night. My GUESS would be that they designed the new ring together. Couples do that. Some couples get engaged long before there is a ring. None of this is “abnormal”...there is no “normal”. But even if she did have 5 rings...who cares? It means NOTHING to us. They get to do what they want and THAT is an indisputable fact.

Generally partners don’t run in front of the other constantly when they think they aren’t being filmed. D runs ahead of her constantly as documented many, many times. And notice how he ALWAYS tries to correct it when he sees the camera. They also aren’t afraid to touch their partner (D constantly avoids it, remember Op/eration S/mile when he was caught on film hiding his hand behind his bag to avoid touching her?).

You pick and choose pictures and videos to prove this trope. You and I both know there are many pictures of them waking together. Again, I ask if you have ever been in a long term relationship because after 8 years, nobody is worried about who is walking in front of who. On the red carpet, it is pretty common for the celeb to walk in front of the spouse because everyone wants to see the celeb and not the spouse. Darren is at work on the red carpet. But if you want to hang your hat on THIS being the BIG proof you have that it is all a lie then go for it. If you want to ignore all of the times Darren has said “I love her” and instead fixate on a photo of him standing in front of her....you are only deluding yourself.

A partner would NEVER try to steal the spotlight from the SO yet M pulls focus constantly despite the fact that it is D who put in the time and effort to receive the accolades he is currently getting.

I honestly can’t with this one. She only “steals the limelight” with you guys. Darren’s real fans just enjoy pics of them together as the gift that they are as we enjoy everything Darren does. You guys, on the other hand, stalk the internet looking for pictures of her just so you can rage over them; you guys talk about how she steals the spotlight. Nobody, NOBODY could steal the limelight from Darren Criss.

A partner would respect that their partner has repeatedly stated that he craves privacy. Neither M nor any of their “friends” give two shits about his wishes as he is all over the internet as posted by this group.

This cracks me up because it assumes that Darren has no idea his pictures are being posted...the ones he posed for and the ones that he watched them post seconds later. Nobody is posting photos that Darren doesn’t want posted. Mia shut down her public social except for very rare red carpet or special events. When you rage about untrue things you sound exactly like Trump “ there is an EMERGENCY AT THE BORDER...drugs...rapists...coyotes.. DEMS WANT OPEN BORDERS”. “DARREN BEGS FOR PRIVACY AND NOBODY RESPECTS THAT”. Both of those statements are complete bullshit.

A caring fiancee would concede an award show to allow for him to take his mom (d’s express wishes as he voiced on ET. And no if this is corrected it does not count as he called her out in a very public way).

OMG with this one. An anon pointed out that the one person who DID take his mom to awards shows after age 30 was Kevin Spacey. Darren took who Darren wanted to take to his first GG as a nominee. Most adults have closer relationships with their lover than their mommy. His mom came to the parties. I don’t see her upset...she looked pretty damn happy hanging with her hubby.

Mature, wealthy adults in their 30s don’t have another wealthy adult living with them for, and i quote from D himself “many, many years.” And no B/en didn’t crash on the couch as you have deluded yourself to believe, he fully lived (or lives) there.

Mature, wealthy adults in their 30′s get to decide who lives in their home with them. If you actually do follow Ben on his social, then you know he is rarely in LA for more than a few days. I never said he is sleeps on the couch because I assume he had his own bedroom.

If I got to meet a music idol and he wanted to move in with me and we could sit around and immerse ourselves in music, I would be thrilled. In college my roommate, her boyfriend, and I sleep in the same bedroom. They were a couple, I was just a roommate. It’s even more disingenuous that you keep screaming what is and isn’t normal while you claim to be the biggest gay ally in the world. Gay families form in all sorts of combinations and configurations. You need to educate yourself before you proclaim you guys are the biggest bestest Queer Allies around and stop betting hung up on heteronormative 1940′s norms. .

A loving partner would not constantly mock and ridicule the other publicly, something she has done often (remember that time she called him douchebag on twitter?). Nor would s/he mock and ridicule his fans and treat them like the lowest form of vermin. particularly if not kissing said person’s ass.

First of all, I believe she was joking though I haven’t seen that tweet in ages. It is super old. Second, people fight. People say horrible things to their lovers. It’s NORMAL.

You have tried to make the “Mia is mean to Darren’s fans” trope into something with as much effort as “THERE IS AN EMERGENCY AT THE BORDER”. Neither one is sticking.

A partner that respects their SO doesn’t force them to perform in a bar nearly every single one of his/her days off, when it was evident the man was on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion, as M did for the duration of the summer.

When you say this I always wonder if you EVER ACTUALLY LISTEN to Darren talk...like USING his words, out of his mouth. Because Darren Criss LOVES making music with people. He played outside restaurants at Michigan, he played inside Sava (MI) and Maggianos (CA), he does concerts and he lives for a small venue event. Marie’s Crisis and other piano bars rock his world so he opened one of his own close to home. Darren LOVES TO CONNECT TO OTHER HUMAN BEINGS THROUGH MUSIC. This is something he has said many times, in many interviews. It is sad that you cannot see that-you cannot hear him- and you continue to disparage his joy. When you finally realize that you are wrong about all of this, the one thing that I hope makes you feel the worst is that you have degraded, disparaged, and denigrated two things he loves- Mia and TSG.

I could go on and on and on about the issues with this horror show, but i will spare my readers. But I will repeat something i have said often, the ONLY thing to me that would be sadder than reality, would be if this is real. Because they are the OPPOSITE of relationship goals and incredibly toxic as painfully evident in what they have allowed us to see.

I can go on and on as well. It is real and it doesn’t involve you. Your petty, ill-informed, silly conspiracy theorist investigations have created a reality that lives on in your heads. Darren is clearly happy and everyone around him loves him AND Mia. You spend a lot of time and energy wiping away ALL of Darren’s truths in order to keep your fantasy alive. The only toxic relationship Darren has is with the CC fandom. I don’t know his personal life but what I see from my position in MI is a man and woman who are living their best life and a fandom that is trying so hard to hang on to a fantasy that has FAR outlived its useful life. Chris and Darren have no public relationship and if I had to guess after reading STFF, I would say no relationship at all. Chris has asked you to stop shipping them more than once. Instead of listening you continue to fabricate fictitious stories to explain away every single word out Darren’s mouth and many out of Chris’s. You aren’t “finding the truth” you are CREATING YOUR TRUTH to keep a fantasy alive. Reading Instagram ‘likes’ and looking at song lyrics WHILE IGNORING THE VERY WORDS OUT OF DARREN’S OWN MOUTH is really messed up and very disrespectful. If you really believe that Darren’s public life is a lie than walk away. You have the right to your opinion but you don’t have the right to bully Darren or his family and friends on behalf of that opinion. You don’t have the right to an opinion on the value of his love for Mia. If you don’t like it then you have the right to walk away...not to spread your hate on social media until it gets back to Darren & Mia, and their family and friends. The CC Bullshit that comes directly from YOUR MOUTH was left on Chuck’s baby post for fuck’s sake. That is ALL ON YOU. You claim you don’t post on their social but you have never told your followers to stop and they use your exact words. Chuck and that newborn baby deserved a hell of a lot better than the hate that a CC Family member left. You OWN that.

Now i beg, please, please, please go back to your own blog where i can blissfully ignore you and leave me alone unless you an actually come back and produce a valid argument.

Nope...as long as you lie, as long as you made ignorant, unsubstantiated and easily disprovable statements, I will be here. Think of me as the New York Times...always giving the folks the well-researched truth. I learned to do research at Michigan. I might not be able to sniff out obscure facts like marriage licenses or who Mia’s mom works for (well mostly because I don’t care) but I can do a damn good job of disproving your tropes because they rely so heavily on misconstrued truths (see my take down of the Fox Studio 7 year contract fact) , outright lies, shortened videos, and photos taken out of context. Also BTW some fact checks: it was CrissColfers who moved into Chris’s neighborhood to terrorize him, NOT Miarrens, in their mission to find proof that Darren was really going to Chris’s home and your anon who mentioned Dot Marie Jone’s wife standing up for Darren and Mia...she is friends with Chris and she was defending Chris and Will NOT Darren and Mia.

Love,

#CrissColfer #@Ajw720 #response #CC fandom #cc fan #cc blog #cc family #ccer #ccers #cc #Darren Criss #Mia Swier #Facts Matter

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