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butterfly--empress · 17 days

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....About that Attack on Titan Series...

Well, well, well......I wasn't going to make this post, but fuck it, we here and I feel like ranting into the goddamn void, it's been a WHILE.

If you enjoyed this series from beginning to end and don't have the emotional maturity to understand that I don't fucking LIKE THIS SHIT. DO NOT REPLY

I don't have patience and I will block you on sight! As we fandom old's say: Don't Like? Don't Fucking Read!

Anyway onto the rant...

it's June 2024 and I finally after so many years, watched this show because it was recommended to me and I brought into the hype because I had NO IDEA just how derisive S4 and the series finale actually was back in the height of it's day.

I had always meant to eventually get around to watching the show and maybe even reading the manga alongside it, but as the years passed, I just never found the urge to pick it up.

And now that I have, after believing the show was great from beginning to end...

GOD, I sure wish I could get back the time I spent watching the entirety of Season 4, that Finale, and feeling utterly annoyed that a writer chose to end their story on such a nonsensical plot.

In fact, I sort of wished I never bothered at all to be quite honest.

The short of it: Seasons 1 to 3>>>>>>Season 4 and that awful ass Finale.

Very unfortunate too. This is just another case of 'great ideas, bad execution'.

And I'm not sorry but the more I think about it, the more I just cannot turn my brain off, suspend my disbelief and gaslight myself into accepting season 4 and that fucking finale as peak writing.

That shit was awful, the fact that seeing the latest interview from the creator himself, just reaffirms how strong the author's intent was when writing this last arc!

It wasn't the fact this was bad on accident, or that the creator ran out of ideas, OR the story got too complicated and complex, OR that he couldn't commit to what he already established in earlier seasons.

If his words are to be taken at face value from that interview:

It's not that this guy is a bad writer, Attack on Titan's last arc's messy writing:

-Plot holes and too many subplots that go nowhere

-Last minute ass-pulls and Deus Ex Machina that make no damn sense.

-Adding time travel-esque powers out of the blue, and it amounts to nothing in the end.

-Never giving an actual satisfying reason why Eren *couldn't defy his fate*.

--We not gonna talk about his mom...

-I'm not gonna bitch about that Ymir subplot about her loving her abusive ass slave master/husband, after what was already established before this point was fine by itself...nope, not going there...

-That god awful confusing asf 4yr time skip. (listen, I don't know NOR do I care at this point, if this time skip was elaborated on in the manga. This was just a poor attempt to hand wave away the obviously inconsistent switch OR lack of development to the characters I followed since ep 1.)

-The stagnation of already established characters we were with since the beginning and basically being replaced by new characters: the MINUTE the Marley characters took center stage, something in me just KNEW, the original crew were being replaced but hoping to GOD I WAS WRONG. --Turns out my gut feeling was correct and it makes me dislike these character more than I already did.

--Yeah, I really did not care AT ALL for the Marley crew. There's just something about shoehorning in new characters that I have no attachment to and telling me, they are now the real protagonists (who get sudden plot armor and make it alive by the end, with no real consequences...in a series that had no qualms about killing just about 90% of the characters I actually gave some fuck about and knew since ep 1 feels very contrived.)

-The unnecessary death of fan favorites that amounted to NOTHING

--I'm not...I'm just going to leave THIS ONE ALONE because I'll be here all fucking DAY and boy I'm doing enough ranting as it is.

~If You Know, You KNOW!~

-I'm not going to rant about the female characters because 1. we'll be here all day, 2. to be fair: most of the characters sort of fell flat regardless of gender anyway. (But I def get that the female cast in particular was done so dirty in the last arc. It's one thing for shounen writers to write one dimensional female characters...you have to be some kind of SPECIAL to create two-dimensional, even three-dimensional female characters only to downgrade them to their lowest common denominator. THE AUDACITY, THE INSULT TO MY FUCKING INTELLIGENCE!)

-I'm not going to bother about the shipping: it's obvious that a certain ship was going to be canon but god, do I really need to bitch about the utter lack of meaningful development to get it from point A to B?

--Then again, maybe it was supposed to be toxic? Lord knows it fits well into the clusterfuck of the last arc of this story.

--Honestly, I was more into a non canon ship that developed thru friendship naturally onscreen anyway, so I have no horse in this race.

-The BIG ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM of mixes messages, that maybe, certain extreme ideologies are correct and justified.

--Yeah, we gonna leave this one alone too...Honestly because this is actually the one thing I don't think was intentional, even if the blatant implications of it are there...and I don't want to make assumptions of the man's politics and what he believes, and his worldview (outside of his personal feelings about himself), I don't know him personally.

--I will however, rant to high hell and I do think he utilized and underutilized the allegory he borrowed from real life history; which led to the unfortunate 'Fantastical Racism' that happens in AoT.

--The slaughtering of poignant thematic themes, period!

--That bad ending (not that it's tragic per se, but just thematically bad).

~~Are you starting to see a pattern??~~

ALL THIS TO SAY:

He didn't WANT to allow his story to progress 'naturally' in the direction it 'wanted to go'.

Isayama didn't want to commit to anything he established. The story is the way it is, because he INTENDED it to be this way.

Eren fails to be a great hero OR antihero (depending on how one sees it) because Isayama doesn't think he, himself is a great person even if others tell him he is. (Ring a Bell?)

And I think it's a hard pill for a lot of people to swallow. Your time was wasted theory crafting, giving the creator the benefit of doubt, all for him to basically say, because he suffered from a serious case of 'Imposter Syndrome', you are an idiot for ever thinking this story was great, was suppose to be more than it is, and that his success isn't earned because he doesn't feel that way and you have to feel that way too.

The creator wanted a nihilistic, myopic, depressive ending. Worldbuilding, lore, cohesive storytelling be DAMNED, because he let his negative feelings about himself bleed way too much into his work.

He wanted the message if there was one at all: there's no point in putting hope in humans because 'we're all just trash anyway', people will always fight, good people shouldn't sacrifice their lives to help humanity or put any hope into humans evolving to change our ways, so why try to find another way, and maybe 'Hitler was right'.

It gets worse when the creator HIMSELF, out of his OWN MOUTH, stated; if he WANTED TO, he could have given the story a better proper send off. He knows what he wrote, and he knows that the natural, better progression of the story he created would have been better received by the fans and critics alike, if he allowed it to go in that direction, but he didn't want that.

Granted: I'm all for writers doing ultimately what they want with their stories, for better or worse.

But that's not what he wanted. And that's what I take from all of this.

However what pisses me off, is that he should have been HONEST about the story/themes/message he wanted to portray from the start.

I don't have a problem with tragic, depressive tales and it's themes, if it is done right. This was not done right and we know it wasn't, because you can look at past and even present discussions and arguments throughout this fandom and see that people have valid reasons to be very upset. (No one likes for their intelligence to be insulted when the story takes them out of the immersion to the point, that the critical thinking jumps in, and now a person is starting to realize that a lot of writing choices that they ignored before, because the story was still good, are now flaws. Stories don't have to be PERFECT, but once those flaws can't be ignored, people begin to see them as the red flags that they are. We might be hopeful, that these flaws or plot holes will be course corrected at some point, but we will not ignore, when we see the trajectory of a story's plot going downhill to the point of no return. AoT's story went beyond the Point of No Return...ON PURPOSE!)

What grinds my gears about this entire situation is that, we have a creator here, who purposely build up a story, world, characters, and themes that the audience expected would follow through and make sense, given what we have of the story.

Only for the creator to fail spectacularly by trying to fucking subvert the audiences' expectations, and seeming to really not give a damn that it's what he wanted to do from the start.

Despite whatever issues he feels or has about himself, it sours whatever sympathy I may have for the guy, because in a way, what he decided to do of his own free will, seems very jaded and quite narcissistic...

I SAID WTF I SAID

It's the audacity for me.

People were lead on, lied to, and wasted their time for nothing.

Character motivations, deaths, sacrifices, the themes, worldbuilding, all of it, amounted to NOTHING.

We were idiots to put good faith into the author. We were idiots to think, this story was worth it. For some of us, it felt like a slap in the face if you were an original fan since the story's inception and honestly, your resentment for sticking with it til the end for ten plus years for an unsatisfying bullshit finale is very valid.

TL:DR: AoT's ending is trash because the Author wanted it to be trash, and that's really, unfortunately what it all amounts to.

Soo, yeah, I don't think I can really say much more than that.

Man should have just stuck with Keeping It Fucking Simple Simon and just ended the story where literally everybody dies from fighting giant ass flesh eating zombies called titans.

Okay NOW I'M DONE WITH THIS!

Edit: GOD, and here I thought I finally fallen into another great shounen on the same level as FMA:BH after the constant disappointment, that is MHA's last arc.

...Maybe I'm getting too old for anime, at least 'shounen'....idk...anymore

At least Spy x Family can't hurt me...

#attack on titan #anti aok #anti snk #aot critical #anti Hajime Isayama #anti attack on titan #as the kids say #this show was mid #it was great #until it became mid #at the start of season 4 #i wish i could #turn my brain off #but there was just so many #things i couldn't ignore #not to mention confusing as hell #at best i was just bored #at worst the story just got increasingly annoying #and then the epilogue from hell

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fitrahgolden · 6 months

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Ladies Do Not Fence

[NOTE: I cannot for the life of me work out the last chapter of Lilies and Soap. It's very frustrating. My apologies if anyone has been enjoying it. It hasn't been abandoned. In the meantime, another drabble.]

“And he remains undefeated!” Anthony congratulated himself, strutting in a circle as Benedict took a seat next to Colin, winded and annoyed.

“Colin, if you would please.” Anthony gestured for his brother to take Benedict’s place. However, Anthony looked up to find his brothers’ mouths agape. Then came the peals of laughter.

“What do you find so amusing?” Anthony stabbed his foil into the ground and put a fist on his hip.

“Perhaps the harbinger of your imminent loss?”

Anthony’s neck tingled as he turned around and… he didn’t quite know what to make of the sight before him.

“Kate,” he breathed before attempting to take everything else in. Then he did attempt to take everything else in.

“What in God's name are you wearing? Are those my clothes?” Anthony eyed his wife, donned in what was undoubtedly his shirt and pantaloons, as well as one glove of hers that was meant for horseback riding. And apparently someone had located a spare foil for her.

“Clearly.” She looked down briefly at her ensemble, her pride evident. “With some adjustments, of course. Clara and I had to make sure the garments would not slip right off as I–”

“No!” Anthony took a few steps closer before pleading, “I beg you to please not finish that sentence.”

Kate’s laugh mocked him, and it seemed she was finding Anthony's discomfort as mirthful as his brothers, who were similarly snickering and joking among themselves.

And it was indeed quite uncomfortable for Anthony, being confronted by his wife, exceedingly alluring as she stood there, confidently and defiantly, her hair in a loose braid over her shoulder, wearing his clothes. Outside. In broad daylight.

As was often the case, Kate seemed to be reading his thoughts.

“Truly, Anthony, I fail to see what you find so objectionable. I am in the presence of no one save for my husband and brothers.”

“Actually, Sister,” Benedict cut in, his grin impossibly wide as he looked up, “we do appear to have an audience.”

Both Anthony and Kate looked up as well to find Kate’s lady's maid on the second floor sitting on the window sill, ostensibly doing some mending. It was not hard to see that a couple other members of the house staff were behind her, looking quite entertained and failing spectacularly at subtlety.

“Do not mind them.” Kate waved dismissively before asking, “Now, when is my turn?”

“You do not get one,” Anthony said, as if nothing in the world was more obvious.

“I beg your pardon?”

Kate had not seemed one for elaborate jokes, but Anthony could not think of another explanation for what was happening. He did not know what to do besides answer as if this were an earnest conversation.

“Ladies do not fence, Kate.” He looked back at his brothers, who seemed as confused as he was, but nowhere near as disconcerted, judging by the laughter that had not abated..

“So you say,” Kate started, indignation rising, “and yet, here I stand–”

“There you stand, with absolutely no knowledge of the sport of fencing.” What was he missing? Benedict and Colin certainly didn’t seem interested in scrutinising the situation.

“An obstacle easily removed.”

“Oh?”

Kate simply nodded and raised her eyebrows at him, her eyes flicking down to his foil. At least, Anthony thought she was looking at his foil. He did not trouble himself with trying to find out. His arousal was currently losing to his bafflement.

Kate continued to wordlessly look at Anthony expectantly.

“You… expect a tutorial? From me?”

“Of course! How else am I to learn? If you deny me your tutelage,” Kate looked over to the bench, “Benedict will happily supply his own,” she shrugged.

Anthony shot a look over to his brother. “Have you two discussed this?”

“No, Brother,” Benedict raised his hands in surrender. “We are as surprised as you by Kate's presence, but I imagine we are exceedingly more delighted. In any case, she is not necessarily wrong. I would in fact consider offering my expertise, such as it is.”

Kate looked awfully victorious for someone whose mastery of fencing at the moment presumably did not exceed knowing which end of the foil to hold. “You see? And if not him, Colin.”

Colin brought a hand to his chest, wounded. “May I ask, Sister, why you would only come to me seemingly as a last resort?”

“You may, but I believe we all know the answer. I have been observing you three. There is nothing to be gained by forcing me to embarrass you in front of your brothers by ranking your performances.”

“Oh, Brother, I vote she stays.” Benedict was giddy, and Colin still seemed supportive, despite Kate’s insult.

Well. It was three against one, and one of the three was Kate, so it felt more like five against one, at least. There was nothing for it.

“Come on, then.” Anthony sighed, exasperated, as he waved his wife over.

After begrudgingly explaining the basic concepts, attacks, and defences–which was no easy feat considering how often he had to invade Kate’s space, put his arms around her, smell her hair–Anthony suggested a friendly bout, no points. Of course, Kate immediately rejected the idea of not keeping score.

“Yes, my losing is likely,” Anthony scoffed at the use of the word “likely,” as opposed to something that rang more true, like “inevitable.” Kate continued regardless.

“I would still like to keep track of any touches I may make successfully.”

“Very well.”

Anthony backed up, gave a curt nod, and they began. Anthony slowed his movements for Kate’s benefit, which she allowed, but implored him not to leave himself open on purpose. So, he didn’t. And Kate landed no touches. Her obvious disappointment was equal parts adorable and upsetting.

“Perhaps that is enough for today?” Anthony offered.

“No, no. Let us go again,” Kate said earnestly.

Anthony looked over to Benedict and Colin, who were still enraptured by this strange match. Benedict tsked before saying, “Oh, come on, Brother. Do not be frightened by your wife’s determination.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, but it was hard to be annoyed when he saw Kate’s face light up as they got in position to start again.

The bout was going much like the first, when Anthony thought he was seeing Kate running at him. Before he could comprehend it, a forearm and a fist were pushing into his chest. Then, he was on the ground. He looked up in wonder as his brothers obnoxiously cackled.

“This is the best day of my life!” Benedict exclaimed.

Kate's chest was heaving as she stood above him, her expression a mix of disbelief and childlike joy.

“Did you just…shove me?” This was shaping up to be the most bizarre of afternoons.

“Yes.” Kate attempted and failed to look apologetic. “I admit, nothing you have taught me called for it, but I saw you assault your brothers in that manner several times, and was growing impatient for an opportunity to do the same. I take it I get no points for that manoeuvre?” She asked innocently as she reached out a hand to help him up.

Once he was pulled close to her, Anthony answered. “Points? No.” He took one step closer, and lowered his voice. “However, I can think of several punitive actions I should like to exact for such unsportsmanlike behaviour.”

Kate scoffed, a playful defiance in her eyes. “Is that so?”

There was silence as they stared at each other, until Colin cleared his throat.

“Perhaps we should excuse ourselves, Benedict.”

“Yes, I believe that would be for the best,” Anthony concurred, a dark edge to his voice, addressing his brothers, but keeping his eyes on Kate's.

Once they were alone, Anthony continued to step forward, and Kate backed away in a slow, halfhearted retreat.

“Was this entire exhibition meant only to vex me?”

“What an arrogant husband I have.”

“That does not answer my question, Viscountess.”

“I am simply seeking a broadening of my horizons, which seems to have made you feel threatened, you poor man.”

“Ah, now I know you are toying with me, for you do not ‘simply’ do anything.”

“Is that meant to be a compliment or critique?” Kate had to stop when her back hit the trunk of a large tree, a soft “oof” escaped her. They were shaded–and hopefully hidden–under its branches.

Anthony’s smile was smug. “It is a statement of fact, nothing more.”

Kate looked beyond his shoulder at their abandoned equipment. “You, my lord, are distracting me from my goal.”

“Which is to what? Best me after one meagre lesson?”

“Meagre? So you admit you are lacking in your skills as an instructor, and are thus holding me back as a pupil?”

“Kate…” Anthony breathed as he put a hand up on the tree next to her head.

“Yes?” Kate raised her chin haughtily, apparently still having the resolve to resist giving in. Or at least pretending to.

Either way, Anthony was done.

He grabbed the back of her neck, his grasp only a little too tight, and their lips met. Kate’s relieved moan let him know she had been done as well. Kate held his head in her hands as she used her tongue to demand entry into his mouth. Anthony’s hands wandered, and when his wife’s body felt unfamiliar, he remembered the outfit she was wearing.

Anthony pulled away and dropped his head to Kate’s shoulder, panting. “Your choice of dress has made certain things difficult to accomplish at the moment.”

“Do you not like it?” She asked in a giggle as she removed his gilet with surprising ease.

“My feelings about it are…utterly muddled. It’s certainly not as convenient as, say, a day dress.” By the end of his sentence, Anthony realised his shirt was open.

“Well, let us just focus on what can be easily accomplished, hm?” Kate suggested as she unbuttoned his breeches.

“Kate…”

She smiled when she found him and she wrapped her hand around him confidently. “Yes? Is there something you would like to say?”

“Mm… I, uh…” Anthony buried his head in Kate’s hair and dotted her neck and collarbone with lazy kisses.

She turned so she could kiss his temple and whisper in his ear. “Would you like me to stop?”

Her ministrations had robbed him of words. He simply shook his head, helpless.

Anthony whimpered as Kate continued, approaching the point of no return. And Kate knew it. She slowed her hand.

“I can stop, if you do not–”

Anthony grabbed her wrist and pulled back to look at her. His eyes bored into hers as he encouraged her to resume her pace by moving her hand with his. “Oh, I do. Fuck. I do. Do not stop.”

A few harsh breaths later, and Anthony spent in his pants, and their cocoon under the tree branches went quiet.

Kate welcomed his weight on her as she rubbed his back up to hair, back and forth, up and down.

After a few blissful minutes, Kate whispered, “And what about those punitive actions with which you threatened me?”

Anthony laughed into her hair. “Allow me to regain my strength and get you upstairs. Then you shall be reprimanded properly.”

#bridgerton #kanthony #anthony x kate #kate and anthony #kate x anthony #kate bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony and kate #anthony bridgerton #kanthony fic #kanthony fanfic #kanthony fanfiction #kathony #kathony fanfic #kathony fic #bridgerton fic #the viscount who loved me #bridgerton fanfiction

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rosietrace · 2 years

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Four realms festival: Winter

Author's note: This is basically my equivalent of a Christmas special, and I need to make content of my beloved fanschool eventually ^^ the prologue's still in the works, but that's to be expected when writing a story. If this isn't good, I'm really sorry ^^||

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The planning

Scepter hall's four realms festival is considered a very prestigious event, especially in the winter season since the festival is at it's most exclusive during that time

Forêt geleé was ecstatic to help with the decorations, this is the event where they don't need to worry about melting after all

Eclair was rather solemn with the planning, this festival in particular was her favorite. Why? Well, it's hosted by the dormitory that her husband was once the head of

Nowadays, forêt geleé is run by Clark, who handled the preparations wonderfully

Meryl also wanted to help, and ended up spending some time with Madam Monroe and Lilia while the preparations were in order

Though, Meryl can't help but question what kind of relationship Lilia has with her godmother

Lilia and Monroe: *Basically flirting*

Meryl: When are you gonna kiss?

Lilia and Monroe:

Madam Monroe definitely tried to tell Meryl that she and Lilia aren't like that but it was unsuccessful on her end-

It's not like Lilia DENIES it tho-

Claudette was a little conflicted about the festival, since it was basically a monochrome masquerade ball instead of an actual festival

It wasn't like she was against it, she just felt awkward when she has to refer to it as a festival since... It doesn't really feel like one?

Finnigan was busy scheduling and preparing the security measures for the event, so Clark ended up having to bother Ambrosia and Brooke (Much to their chagrin)

.... Clark was almost drowned by Ambrosia in the eauxclaires dormitory tho, he probably annoyed her too much XD

Brooke also threatened to attack Clark with his animals, but to Clark, it was an empty threat compared to the attempted murder Ambrosia did to him-

To put it simply, everything was running smoothly

The dorms were excited for the event and the celebration of the new year, the staff made sure nothing was out of order for it, and Meryl was happy because the decorations were pretty :D

Clearly the last one is the most important. Meryl's opinion is above all (⁠⌐⁠■⁠-⁠■⁠)

Hell, Eclair was less solemn by the end of the preparations and was genuinely feeling rather giddy about it

She may be grieving her husband's supposed death, but this event is still her favorite one. With or without her husband in it.

So really, it was smooth sailing for everyone

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The days of the 'festival'

It's still a bit chaotic in traditional Scepter Hall fashion, but it was still smooth sailing for them so they didn't really care

Everyone looked spectacular in their winter themed masquerade clothes, especially Magnijardin and Forêt geleé. They practically stole the show with how elaborate their outfits were

Meryl wore a simple white tea dress with light blue ribboning that complimented the dress really well

As for Eclair, she ended up wearing the most simplistic outfit compared to everyone else. A sleek, yet simple black blouse that matched well with her equally as sleek white suit

It was classy, sleek, and also showed authority over everyone else despite the simplicity of it

Madam Monroe snuck Lilia in, alongside Sebek, Silver, and Malleus

Malleus was practically ecstatic when he was invited to such an illustrious event

Mercury kinda had to be held down, since he didn't expect, nor want, a Draconia to be in his presence

Finnigan kinda just told him to let loose and have fun without worrying about Malleus, so Mercury did just that to clear his head

Meanwhile Clark and Ambrosia were practically hammered after having a concerning amount of shots

Claudette was hyping them up, but was still worried for her wife

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A suspicious white owl

Warning: Kinda contains a key part of SHI's main story

With Brooke, he chose not to be with the rest of the staff since he really didn't like the cold environment no matter how beautiful it appeared

So he was just outside the venue, and making sure no one broke in on his side(The guards Finnigan hired were handling the other side)

Brooke didn't really do much, to be completely honest

He was just conversing with his animal friends(the ones who weren't in hibernation), and discussing their plans for the new year

Then, Brooke felt a random yet familiar presence and advised the animals to flee just in case.

When they did, Brooke was ready for whatever fight he might have to go through

Imagining Neville Longbottom with his fists and trying to threaten Harry and his friends just so they don't get Gryffindor in trouble

But he... Didn't fight at all. In fact it felt like there was no suspiciously familiar presence whatsoever

Instead, Brooke caught sight of a white owl perched onto one of the snow-covered trees

What made it even stranger for Brooke, was the aura that was emitted from the owl

It.... Didn't have the aura of any typical winter owls, or any owls in general

.... It was almost like it wasn't even an owl to begin with

Brooke, somewhat disturbed by this revelation, tried to approach the owl as best as he could

Which failed, since the owl just flew away when Brooke was getting just a little closer

Brooke was a little freaked out, so he just went back inside to tell Eclair about what happened

Which also resulted in failure

Eclair was busy enough as it was and merely assumed that Brooke was hallucinating, completely ignoring whatever he had to say

At that point, Brooke just felt tired and told everyone that he was gonna go to sleep back in Animania

Everyone respected his wishes and wished him a good night's sleep

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A heartfelt speech

After Malory's disappearance, it became an unintentional tradition for Eclair to give a heartfelt speech about how his disappearance affected her and others

And somehow, it tugs at everyone's heartstrings every time

For this year, this was the first time Eclair actually teared up giving the speech

In previous years, she would look sad, somber, and filled with grief.

But she wouldn't shed a tear

This year was different.

And seeing their headmistress shed so many tears reminded some students that she's still a 'person' with emotions, not some heartless dignitary

Meryl actually ended up crying alongside her mother, which only further increased the rate of sadness that filled the atmosphere

It felt almost uncomfortable.

In an attempt to switch up the current mood, Finnigan suggested to just have fun and... Basically worded it like they have to completely ignore what Eclair said during her speech

He's trying his best, he isn't really the best in social situations

As the partying continued, Eclair decided to doze off for the night and left her daughter under the care of Lilia and Monroe

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The ending of the event

When the so-called 'festival' ended, everyone was anticipating the new year

Some were excited, others were scared, and some couldn't find a reason to care

Meryl bid Lilia and his unofficial children goodbye and was already a bit sad that she can't play with her quintessential godfather anymore

Naturally, before he left, Lilia assured Meryl that he'll find time in his schedule to play with her again

This also means she has to witness him and her godmother flirt

Clark continued to tease his cousin for her obvious romantic affection towards Lilia, but she simply disregarded it and claimed their relationship was simply platonic

All in all, the four realms festival ended on a satisfying note

And those within Scepter hall anticipate the new year with open arms

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archived-kin · 3 years

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solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts.

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.”

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all.

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #swd solomon #swd mammon #swd simeon #solomon x reader #reader insert #male reader #fluff #domestic sorcerer husbands #planning on turning this into a series if i can haha

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saladejin · 3 years

Text

Admire | 07

Seokjin x Fem!Reader | arranged marriage!au, husband!Seokjin | Strangers to lovers, angst, self discovery, loneliness in luxury, touch starvation (eventual smut), eventual domestic fluff

Summary: You’d never needed anyone else. Growing up alone, living alone, existing alone. It all came naturally and effortlessly, quite like breathing. That was until your somewhat distant parents finally decided it was time to make good on a promise. One they’d made before you were even born.

Warnings: Things are getting a lil saucier

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Whew, finally we’re up to date. I FINALLY got around to re-editing and revamping this latest chapter, but once again I’m sorry for the delay on it. Now I can start focusing on my wips :))

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The driver bid you both a chaste farewell and soon you were making your way up to house both of you had grown used to sharing. These days, it was simply your safe space, a place you’d slowly begun to warm up to, where you could live and work peacefully in the unimposing presence of your husband, who worked equally as hard for his family.

This was your place to finally belong, the stupidly large mansion that could house ten more of you plus your family with ease, but alas it was still your mansion.

Our … mansion.

You couldn’t recall the moment where you’d begun to think of it as a home rather than a house. In your mind, it wasn’t really the house itself, but rather the people who lived there that made it a place you could truly call home.

You looked over to Seokjin and suppressed a sigh of built up emotion. The man was currently bringing most of the bags inside without a hitch, making use of his broad shoulders and hauling weight as if he weren’t wielding enough hierarchical power to get it brought in for him by the driver. Watching the scene only reminded you of how much had changed during your time away.

For one, Seokjin had shocked you with how easily he’d adapted to the different atmosphere and routine. There were no complaints from him about accommodation, food, or even the over-the-top rowdiness and friendliness of the company. He’d taken it all on board with a curiosity you honestly found adorable, and even adopted some of the various mannerisms. Watching him carrying all the luggage inside was just an example of his new way of living, one you chose to call ‘like a normal person’.

You were also growing closer somehow. The usually stoic man had opened up significantly, and you were discovering new things about him just as quickly as he discovered them himself. For instance, he found an enjoyment for cooking after helping some of the uncles with their traditional barbeque, he’d shown interest in acquiring a guitar for himself as soon as he could, and he was becoming more talkative as he began relaxing his hold on the professional barrier between you.

It was as if he was finally allowing himself to live the kind of life he always wanted. No luxurious parties, no expectations, no having to save face with every public outing. You were a messy mixture of nerves, uneasiness, and excitement at the prospect of getting to know Seokjin for who he was.

He had to discover who he was first, though.

“Dinner will be delivered soon.” His voice filtered out from the kitchen area distantly, and only then you realised you’d been standing in the front entrance in a daze. Lost in your thoughts like a fool. Even so, it was hard to miss the odd note hidden deep within his tired voice.

“Why do you sound disappointed? Is it not what you wanted?” you queried while leaving your bags at the front door for someone to collect later. You made your way into the living room with probing eyes, trying to find where his voice was coming from before spotting his black mop of hair scattered on the back of the lounge.

He didn’t respond at first, only met your gaze with his own investigative ones. You sat down heavily on the other lounge with a sharp exhale. Seokjin drummed his fingers against the leather while lifting one leg to cross over the other elegantly, and you knew he was just trying to avoid talking about what was on his mind.

“You can tell me, you know.” You rolled your eyes at his silence.

He ran both hands through his hair roughly and you almost felt breathless at how messy he’d made himself, like he’d just rolled out of bed. Considering you were both still in your casual clothing from the road trip, it was a sight that made your whole body tingle with a fondness you couldn’t explain. You were just beginning to see more of his hidden personality, and that made you happy in some indescribable way.

“I don’t know, I was hoping to actually try and cook something for once. Like hyung was telling me…”

“Oh? there’s that word again,” you chuckled, trying to ignore the happy swell in your chest after hearing that he wanted to try cooking the same things from a few nights ago, “and you can get the grill out tomorrow night if you want.”

“Hmm, I’ll see how I feel. Anyway, what word?” he asked while sitting back and continuing to run his hand through his hair lazily, expression puzzled. You felt so annoyed at the longing you felt to be the one doing it for him. You had been wondering what his silky looking tresses had felt like for the longest time.

“Is it ‘hyung’?” You smiled in embarrassment, mouthing out the word carefully to try and pronounce it in an acceptable manner at least, though you could never hope to sound fluent right off the bat. Seokjin’s eyes fell to you as the word left your lips, the small lifting of his cheeks being the only hint that he was trying to suppress his amusement. The way his cocoa coloured eyes sparkled at the sound of his native tongue made your heart squirm.

“It’s a good attempt, but no it’s pronounced more like ‘hyeong’. Try it.”

“Hyung.”

“Yeah, that’s … better.”

You hid your grin with the back of your hand, eyebrows shooting up at his unsure sounding feedback. He even managed to crack a tiny smirk of his own, his full lips making him look even more model-like under the soft lighting of your living room.

“Hey, how am I meant to get it perfect straight away? Besides, I forgot what it means already,” you huffed, and brought your legs to tuck comfortably underneath you.

“It’s just a term we use to refer to older males,” he explained, letting his head fall back against the seat slowly. Seeing his eyes fluttering to a close made you wonder how tired he must’ve been feeling. After spending so much time interacting with strangers, and driving, and pretending to be your husband, you supposed.

The jarring noise of the doorbell brought you to your feet, and you went to collect your dinner from the front door as Seokjin gave a quiet nod.

Now that he’s brought it up, I think I’d prefer a home cooked meal too.

“So, am I meant to call you ‘hyung’?” You laughed inwardly while making your way back to him. You were excited to learn more about him now that he was opening up and unfurling in front of your eyes.

He had to purse his lips slightly to avoid smiling again. “No, and please don’t. It would feel way too odd to hear that from you.”

“Oh.” Your heart cracked a little, thinking of course he wouldn’t want his foreign partner to try and so poorly imitate something such as his native language, something he considered close to his heart and home. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t think-”

“It’s okay, it’s just that Korean women don’t use ‘hyung’. If you are female and want to refer to an older male, or partner…” He seemed to hesitate, as if rethinking his decision to elaborate on the subject at all. “Then you can call m- you can use ‘oppa’.”

You swallowed a mouthful of steak before attempting to copy him. “Oppa?”

Seokjin blinked before giving you a tiny nod. Not a single second passed before he was focusing back on his food, the conversation apparently hitting a weird place for him.

“I don’t have to go around calling you that. It’s not like I’m trying to adopt another culture,” you clarified for him, noting how his shoulders seemed to relax at your gentle tone. “I only want to understand you better, Seokjin.”

His hands faltered in their movements to cut the tender steak on his plate. You didn’t catch any change in his expression, as expected, but his eyes gleamed with something you could only describe as appreciation. A few months ago, neither of you probably thought you’d end up sharing your ethnic differences with one another over dinner like this.

The house had always been so silent with just the two of you, and your mind kept thinking back to your old home where there were always maids, cooks and butlers milling about. It struck you as a little peculiar, so you decided to ask.

“Sorry to change the subject, but why is it that your mother requested there to be no live-in staff here?”

Seokjin continued to eat slowly but looked up with a thoughtful gleam in his eye. “I was confused too, but she always brushed it off. Something about family traditions requiring minimal interferences? I didn’t really get it since I’d never heard of said ‘tradition’, but I never really understood her methods anyway.”

Oh…

Your face burned as you understood what he was saying. It was almost laughable, how oblivious he was to his mother’s implications. The thought probably never crossed his mind that she could be referring to the two of you having sexual relations in some way. Well, why should the thought cross his mind?

This was never meant to be anything more than a fake relationship, an array of masks worn only to fool them into believing it was true. It was easy to understand why his mother would think accordingly. You had been trying to trick her, but perhaps you’d been just a little too convincing.

“Yeah, weird huh?” You cleared your throat, offering to take up his dish as you both finished off the meals. The case of the understaffing was forgotten as you moved back to where your husband was half sprawled on the couch, but now the quiet hum of the television accompanied the room and you were thankful to have something filling the silence. Even if it was something was simple as slightly muffled voices from the people on the big screen.

You plonked back down on the leather and felt relaxation crawl up your spine in the best way. You were slowly beginning to believe that there was almost nothing better than this. Spending a night at home with someone you cared about, watching a movie or TV show, nice and warm and comfortable.

You briefly registered that in your current position, Seokjin’s arm that’d been outstretched along the back of the seat now rested just behind your neck. You thought nothing of it, knowing he sure as hell wouldn’t, but let your imagination take the reins at all the possibilities presenting themselves.

Imagining a smile tugging at his lips as he brought his arm down to drape across your shoulders. His warm hand as it cupped your jaw, a gentle thumb drawing tiny circles into the flushing skin along your cheekbone. You imagined the feeling of your smaller hand travelling up the hardened expanse of his clothed chest, feeling the lean muscle and taut ridges underneath the flimsy barrier separating skin from skin.

You felt your face flush further in surprise when your daydream was snapped away into thin air, the cushion underneath you squeaking as he suddenly moved from his slumped position.

“I’m about ready to call it a night. The driving must’ve taken more out of me than I thought,” he said while sporting a grunt of effort, his face wincing at the pop of his joints once he stretched his long legs out. As he brought his arm inwards to follow suit, you felt the slightest brush of his fingers graze your neck. The small shudder that racked your body from the sensation was instantaneous, and you knew that your shameless imagination from earlier had made the cravings for his touch worse.

Unintentionally, your body shifted to try and follow his hand before you managed to will yourself into a stiff, unmoving statue.

Shit, what was that?

You closed your eyes and blew out your cheeks in annoyance, directed at nobody but yourself. Was it really all becoming too much for you the handle at this point? When had you become so … pathetic and needy? This wasn’t like you at all.

It was only then you realised Seokjin hadn’t moved since your loss of inhibitions. You wrenched your eyes open and glanced over to him, knowing full well that his observant gaze had seen the entire display from beginning to end. Oh God no!

“(Y/n), I’ve been thinking,” came Seokjin’s voice through the robotic sounding laughs emitting from the speakers of the television. He was holding his arm awkwardly in the air just above his own lap, as if it had been electrocuted and was no longer capable of moving.

“About what? Oh, when is our next event? I forgot to ask you earlier,” you uttered faintly, trying to cover up your reddening face with one hand. There was no way he was going to let what happened slide, you knew just by seeing the pointed look in his curious dark eyes. He lowered his arm and kept his eyes fixated on your jittery form.

“Not for ages, but anyway that’s not what I was thinking about,” he said with a lazy mumble to his voice that was honestly just a little too low, teetering on seductive but obviously unintentional.

You mentally implored him to forget your stupid reactions. It was getting out of hand and you were already trying your best to rein yourself in.

“Oh?” You raised a brow, waiting for the inevitable questioning that was surely coming your way.

In all honesty, you just wanted to go shower and sleep for the next week. During the trip you’d had so many restless nights, being too caught up on the whole sharing a bed situation. It got better as time went on, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t meant to be there in between the sheets with him. Every time, you held yourself back from the urge to touch him and shuffle closer to his side.

Rein it in. Rein-

Seokjin finally parted his lips in to respond, “It’s just that I can’t help noticing how you get lost in your thoughts lately, along with all the other odd reactions. You keep getting this look on your face, like you’re longing for something, and I can’t help but think back to what you were saying at Taehyung’s party.”

Okay, well this was a bit more than you expected. You felt shivers of humiliation travelling up your skin at the thought of him noticing your fantasizing, of all things. Were you really becoming that obvious even in a state of subconscious? Damn, things were really worse than you thought.

“What? At Tae’s party?” you murmured, trying to awkwardly laugh it off in the process. How did he manage to call you out like that with the straightest of faces? It was almost unfair that he could be so serious and not become affected by these things.

“Yeah,” Seokjin continued. “How you said you craved human touch all the time because the way you grew up left you wanting. I realised during the trip, how content you looked when you were receiving affection from your family members … and me.”

You snapped your eyes up to him, looking to see if his expression would give anything away about what he was thinking even though you knew it was futile. To your shock, his face actually wasn’t the same blank slate you were used to seeing when he pondered. For the first time, you saw him show slight apprehension as he nibbled on his plush bottom lip.

‘And me’ he’d said. You were suddenly thrown back to that one night in the motorhome, which honestly seemed like a mere fever dream, where he’d run his hands along your body and held you close for the first time. That first night you had shared the same bed, and all the dams had broken within you.

It was the night I opened up to him, and maybe that was when he decided to do the same.

“So, I want-”

He cut himself off and sat forward, looking so bewildered and lost that you were beginning to grow concerned. At the recollection of all these memories, you were already feeling vulnerable and ashamed. His vagueness was not helping you keep your shit together.

“I want you to show me what you mean. What are you asking for when you say those things?” He finished by clasping his hands together and looking up at you as hopefully as he could, which was minimal for him. You couldn’t really believe your ears at this point.

“Show you?” you repeated in disbelief. “H-how?”

“Show me what you need,” he rephrased, straightening his back slightly and fiddling with his fingers.

It was a cute little habit you’d never seen before, but your brain could barely register that when you were already reeling from what he was saying. He was close enough that you could catch the scent of his faint cologne, and it was making your head spin faster and faster. The quiet sound of the television faded out as you focused on his beautiful eyes right in front of you.

“You want me to touch you?” You tilted your head, feeling like you were having an out-of-body experience when he nodded to confirm your suspicions.

“If that’s what you want.”

It was strange, not knowing whether to feel happy or whether to feel humiliated, or relieved, or even saddened; all because of your neediness that he’d seen way too many times.

“Okay.”

Your shoulders sagged in a strange sense of defeat. This whole impasse had been your weakness from the start, and now it was finally coming to light. You were ready to help him understand things from your point of view, and maybe he would start to see why you’d been acting this way.

He’d grown up in a similar environment, even despite some stark differences. Why couldn’t there be just a small chance that he might relate somehow?

“What do you feel when you get close to another person?” you asked softly, untangling your feet from under each other and resting them squarely on the ground in front of you. It was intimidating to look up at his looming figure this boldly, yet being so close to his body heat only seemed to put you more at ease.

You wanted to fall into him and have him cradle you in his arms, but you knew that if you were going to show him the right way, you needed to take it slow.

“I don’t feel so different. It doesn’t happen often, actually,” he mused while keeping his eyes focused on you. “When I see my mother at galas or balls, I suppose it just feels like I want to get away.”

You stifled a chuckle at the thought of his mother’s smothering putting him off. It was like that for so many kids out there, but you couldn’t share that feeling when it was lucky for you to even see your mother once in a while. Seokjin’s tensed frame seem to falter slightly when you knowingly smiled up at him. Gone was the shyness, the tiptoeing, the never-ending feeling of restraint.

This was your husband in front of you, and now he was asking you to touch him.

“That’s understandable Seokjin, but I mean in other instances where it’s perhaps more welcomed, or even instigated mainly by you. Say, you see your brother after a long time, so you hug him. Yes?”

The man’s black hair bounced slightly as he nodded. You hadn’t made any moves to be closer to him yet, and you could sense his confusion, but truly it was best to go gradual for him to understand. Rather than you just throwing yourself at him in a barrage of limbs.

“How does that make you feel, compared to how you feel normally?” you tried again, your eyes wide with a curiosity that probably burned even brighter than his. A month or so ago, you never would’ve thought you’d be having such a close and intimate conversation about his relationships.

Clearly, the road trip had not only changed you both in multiple ways, but it had also changed the very dynamic tying you together. The foundations of your relationship, and what it meant to each of you. The man sitting before you now was nothing but a far cry from the man you’d once faced at the altar. As foolish as it was, you could not be prouder of him.

“I suppose I was taught to just do it in certain situations. I never thought about how it made me feel,” he offered in a low voice, brows furrowing as he tried thinking about how he could be more helpful. The slight pout to his pinkish lips had your heart beating erratically.

“Seokjin, do you care about me?” you asked, and time drew to a stop.

This was the kind of question you told yourself you would never ask him. It was almost impossible to answer considering your circumstances, and the owlish look in his eyes told you that you were right in thinking so.

“Yes.”

Your world resumed spinning, but the silence continued. Honestly, you didn’t think you would have kept it together if he’d answered no. You loved him, that much you were sure of, but before the holiday you had been confused about whether you cared for the man so strongly out of your pure desire for close friendship and companionship. You weren’t dense though. These feelings were far more than that, and you were an idiot for entertaining them.

You stared into each other’s eyes, trying to read foreign minds and figure out what it all meant. He cared about you, and you cared about him. That much was a given, but the true depth of that fact remained a constant unknown. He exhaled sharply, almost as if he couldn’t really believe he’d answered so sincerely. So quickly.

“I didn’t think I would, but since the beginning you’ve turned out to be quite different than who I thought I’d be married to. My life … changed, but it was seamless and easy compared to the complicated mess I thought I was going to have to deal with,” he explained with sad eyes. His gaze had been trained on the floor since he’d given you ‘yes’ as an answer.

You shifted closer and brought one hand up to lift his lowered jaw, angling it to face you so you could see his inquisitive eyes once more. His large hands remained clenched in his lap, unsure of what to do at this point.

“Seokjin I care about you too, so you don’t have to feel like you’re on your own here.” You laughed quietly, noticing his shoulders relax as you moved your hand up to rest on the side of his face. Your fingertips buried themselves into the shorter strands of his hair.

If only he knew the true extent of my feelings.

You cleared your throat, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts before they took over, and switched your teacher mode on quickly. “This is a … type of contact that you can kind of do anytime, and you can even play with the person’s hair, or just kind of massaging gently.”

You demonstrated by slowly bringing your hands up to run through his marvelous black locks, lips parting in amazement at the feeling of his soft hair you’d always imagined combing back with your fingers. Your other hand shaped itself to his face as you tried your best to stop yourself from leaning any further forward.

You couldn’t kiss him like this just yet. Not when it would actually mean something to him, for the first time.

“Why do you say ‘the person’s’? You know I wouldn’t have the nerve to try this with anyone else, right?” He murmured unexpectedly; his eyes somewhat nervous at what you were implying. You were quick to push your surprise away and nodded, because it was the only response you could think of.

He took a small but deep breath to regain himself, letting his stoic persona continue to melt underneath your touch. “May I?” he asked in a soft voice, and once again all you could do was nod your head.

He brought one of his hands up hesitantly and you couldn’t help a small fond smile at the way he was concentrating so intently on the movement. As soon as his hand made contact with the skin of your cheek, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into it. He watched in wonder as your eyes fluttered shut, his other hand now carding itself through your slightly messy hair.

If you’d been a cat, you were certain a distinct sound of purring would emanate from your throat.

He smoothed all your hair back until it was no longer ruffled, and then brought both hands back to cradle your face once more. You didn’t realise you’d been leaning forward and running your hands up his chest until the moment you reached his shirt collar, and your eyes zeroed in on the expanse of his neck just long enough to see his Adam’s apple bob up and down in a hard swallow.

“Um, now you can touch a bit lower if you want. Or just hold my hands if you’re more comfortable with that,” you breathed, trying to bring your thoughts to a focal point while removing your hands from him sharply. He looked so picturesque up this close. You just wanted to stay in this position for hours upon hours.

“Like this?” He voiced hoarsely. You tried to keep your breathing normal as one of his hands fell down to encompass yours, but the other traced the line of your jaw before gliding downwards and brushing against the tender skin of your neck. Just has he had in the beginning before all of this had started.

“Yeah.”

You almost whimpered at the tingling sensation, but kept it in for the sake of the exercise. This man was absolutely dangerous for your wellbeing. It wasn’t even his actions at this point, just his undivided attention and careful eyes tracing over the curve of your figure that had your insides turning to jelly.

“That’s probably enough for now. I can hear your brain working,” you spoke and let out an airy laugh when his fingers hesitated in their descent. It was as if he was trying to compute too much information at once, and somehow, the way he was trying his best was oddly charming.

He grunted. “I’m just- I’m trying to understand you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” you responded with a genuine smile, noticing how his words mirrored your own from earlier back when you’d butchered his native tongue. “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m so exhausted I could pass out.”

“Yeah, now I’m really calling it a night.” He cleared his throat with a sigh, mind clearly burning out from the overload of new experiences.

He stood from the couch so suddenly, a stiffness taking hold of his movements. Just what was going through his head at a time like this? You missed his close proximity almost immediately.

Like a robot programmed to move, you also heaved your body up from where it was beginning to sink into the cushions. This whole turn of events seemed unreal, and you could feel your heart still throbbing in your chest at the feeling of Seokjin underneath your fingertips. He had been so warm and had looked so beautiful.

You ran your fingers through your hair as the silence permeated the air, the only sounds being your husband's gentle footsteps as he packed away a few things around the house. You gathered your own bags from the front door and sluggishly traipsed towards your bedroom at the opposite end of the hallway.

I don't want to be on my own.

The invasive thought made you take a few shaky steps back. You were ready to put everything at risk and confess to him how lonely and in love you were, yet to your surprise the sound of his voice softly calling your name made you falter in your tracks.

You stood in the doorway looking outwards as he loitered in front of his own bedroom door at the opposite end, one large hand resting on the doorknob as if he'd been hesitating to open it.

"Did you hear me?"

You relaxed your stance, a sudden embarrassment beginning to settle in at how eager your movements were. "Yeah? What is it?"

Please let me stay with you. Please let me-

"Isn't it - doesn't it seem strange?" He seemed to inwardly backpedal all of a sudden, his pretty eyes falling to the floor and his slightly down-turned nose twitched in regret. "I mean, sorry if this is weird, but after sharing a bed for the entire road trip, doesn't it feel strange to suddenly go back to our own rooms?"

“Ah.” You somehow managed to suppress a hefty sigh of relief, pure ecstasy shooting through your body like some special brand of heroin. You tried to bump up his courage with a reassuring smile. "Jin yes, I still want to spend the night with you."

His eyes rose from the floor as the burden lifted from his mind, shoulders seeming to shake free the stiffness that had taken hold of them ever since the couch fiasco.

"I'm glad. Come over here then."

#seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #btsghostie #btsgoldnet #seokjin smut #seokjin imagines #seokjin series #jin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #arranged marriage au #husband jin #bts jin #bts smut #jin angst #admire #saladejin

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fiveisnumber1 · 3 years

Text

Blast to the Past - A Timeless Side Piece

Here’s like a somewhat short little piece, my brain just decided to come up with this concept after a conversation with @oceanspray5 so I wrote it down. If you read it, let me know your thoughts, I’d love to hear them! Thanks ❤️

August 6th, 2043

Like most mornings, you sat around the kitchen table having breakfast with your family. Typically all of the Hargreeves siblings would be present but they had gone out for their own breakfast this morning to celebrate Vanya’s promotion as conductor of the local orchestra, leaving you, Five and your children to have breakfast without them. Your darling husband, Five, sat to your right and held your hand as he drank his morning coffee. And across the table sat your two beautiful children. You smiled as you listened to your daughter Lia detail how she and some of her cousins were going to go shopping for first day of school outfits this coming weekend. On the other hand your son, Penn, was quiet. He pushed around the meal on his plate as he looked between his food and his father. You couldn’t tell exactly what was going on in his head but you knew that it had to deal with Five. Giving Five’s hand a squeeze he looked towards you. With a slight tilt of your head you gestured towards your son just at the right time for Five to catch his eye.

“Is something wrong buddy? You’ve barely touched your breakfast.” Five questioned

Penn stayed silent as he looked at his dad. Something was wrong and it had been weighing on his mind for a while. Straightening his posture he put down his fork as he took a deep breath. The rest of the family looked on quietly as Penn turned to Five and asked,

“Hey dad, you think I can try traveling back in time a few minutes?”

Five knew this topic would come up at some point when he started trying to teach him to time travel. He was his son, so of course he’d want to do more than what were in his capabilities. It just wasn’t feasible to move up to minutes given that he barely had control of traveling for seconds. Regretfully, Five looked at his son as he answered,

“Not yet, we’ve only hit going back in time 30 seconds.”

Penn’s face dropped as disappointment spread across his face. Seeing the change in demeanor Five tried to brighten things up by adding,

“Y’know what though, I’ll let us shoot for 45 seconds today. How about that?”

“Dad, I’ve been practicing seconds for the past 6 months, I want to do more.” Penn complained

Five looked at you and saw the concerned look on your face. Five was trying to be reasonable in terms of his son’s feelings. He knew that getting to start learning to time travel was exciting to him given that he was only able to start learning those six months ago, but excitement did not equal experience.

“Penn, I appreciate your enthusiasm but your mom and I have explained on multiple occasions how dangerous time travel can be.” Five elaborates

“It’s taken your dad years to get to the level of control he has now.” You added

Penn could feel frustration build up inside him. He wanted to time travel in the same way his dad could. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t move up to minutes. He definitely had mastered seconds so what was the hesitation with bringing up the amount of time? Standing up from his seat he gave a pointed look as he exclaimed,

“I’m ready to make that jump! I’m not asking for years just a few minutes!”

Five was shocked at his son’s outburst. He had never seen his son this upset and even in times where it came close he still had never shown this much. He knew it would upset him, but Five was doing this for his own son’s good. Sitting up straighter, Five looked at his son.

“Penn, I’m sorry but the answer is no.” Five firmly replied “We need to start small so there are no large consequences.”

The beginnings of sparks started to fly off of Penn as a blue glow whirred around his hands. You and Lia winced at the minor disturbance Penn was causing due to his anger. Instead of saying anything more though, he jumped away from the kitchen and with a flash of blue he was gone. Wanting to help her obviously distraught brother Lia quickly stated,

“I uh...need to make a phone call...”

“Who do you need to call at 10 am?” You questioned

“Oh y’know...uh...Spiderman?” Lia replied confused before quickly adding “Anyway bye.”

And just like that your daughter had also flashed away to follow her brother. With both your children gone from the table you and Five sat in a silence. Pulling his hand from yours, Five dropped his head into his hands.

“Ugh, I feel like my father right now.” He lamented

Your heart broke at his statement. You knew that Five was nothing like his father and constantly loved and cherished your children. He would give the entire world to them if he could. Having him compare himself to that shitty excuse of a man was so saddening because you knew he was only trying to keep Penn safe. Placing a hand on his back you leaned in closer as you tried to comfort him,

“Hey, you know you’re not your father. You didn’t say no to him, just not yet.”

Five looked up from his hands and over at you, the pain in his eyes was on full display.

“I know but it’s like staring myself in the face. I got mad I couldn’t time travel like I wanted during a meal with my family and here he is doing the same.” Five elaborates

“Darling, he has wanted to time travel just like you ever since he could comprehend the subject. He wants to be just like his dad.” You try to affirm

“I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes as his dad.” Five commented looking away from you

He knew the decision was the right one but nevertheless he felt so awful not being able to make his son happy. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek you bring his gaze back to yours. Giving him a slight smile you reply,

“I know. Maybe if we just give him a few minutes to cool off everything will be okay.”

“I hope so. I hate saying no to our kids.” Five stated

Your smile widened as you brought your face closer to your husband’s. Taking on a less serious tone you commented,

“You hate saying no to anyone in this family,”

You could see a smile start to reappear on his face. Oh how he loved you so dearly. Closing the space between you two, he placed a soft kiss to your lips. Pulling back he smiled as he responded,

“Especially you, ma chérie,”

Quietly, the two of you sat back in your chairs sipping you coffee as you patiently waited for your children to come back to the table. Upstairs though Penn flashed into the living room as he paced back and forth talking to himself,

“Ugh, it’s no fair. I wan’t to time travel more than just seconds. I’m ready for minutes!”

Flashing in a second later, Lia leaned against the living room door frame as she listened to her brothers rant. Crossing her arms over her chest she commented to him,

“You know you’re lucky you even get seconds. I can’t learn time travel for another two years.”

“Thats’s because you’re 13. you’re too young.” Penn retorts “Me on the other hand, I’m 15 which means I’m old enough to learn,”

Flashing away from the door frame Lia reappears closer to her brother floating upside down in the air.

“Just because you’re old enough to learn doesn’t mean you’re smart enough to do it.” Lia remarks before sticking her tongue out

“This is none of your business you car floor french fry.” Penn replies pushing her face back

Walking away from her, Penn makes his way towards the side of the room the piano was one. Transporting herself from her molecules from her position in the air Lia appears sitting criss-cross on top of the piano.

“It totally is my business,” Lia explains catching her brother’s attention, “You had this conversation in front of me dumbass,”

Penn rolled his eyes at his younger sister before using his powers to knock her off the piano top.

“Hey! You can’t just do that!” Lia complains

Standing up from the floor, Lia looks towards her brother who hard turned away from her again. Watching him she had noticed that Penn had taken up a position as if he was about to take off running.

“What are you doing?” She asked

“Just leave me alone, so I can jump back in time a minute.” Penn huffed

“But dad said no.” Lia reminds

“Lia, I can do a minute. It’s just 30 seconds more, I can’t fuck up 30 extra seconds.” Penn states still not looking back

“But dad-” Lia tries to say again

Penn was done with this. Whipping around he narrowed his eyes on her as he exclaimed,

“Forget what dad said alright! I’m doing it!”

Quickly he whipped back around as he took off on a running start, blue energy starting to form around him. Trying to stop her brother, Lia flashed to him attempting to tackle him to the ground. The two of them felt as the whirring of energy stopped. Both children stood up from the ground as they brushed themselves off. Annoyed that Lia had ruined his time travel practice he angrily scolded,

“Why did you do that? Something could’ve gone wrong.”

Lia didn’t reply. All she could manage to do was stare with wide eyes and mouth agape at something behind him.

“What’s with the stupid expression?” Penn questioned

Instead of saying any words she slowly raised her hand as she just pointed to whatever she was looking at behind him. Turning around, he looked in the direction of what his sister was seeing and was met with a sight he never expected to see. A depressing portrait of a younger version of his father staring down at him from over a fireplace. With the sudden realization of what had happened slipping in all Penn could manage to say was,

“Oh fuck.”

#the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #umbrella acedmy #five hargreeves #tua five hargreeves #tua five #five #five hargreeves x you

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shoutaaizawas · 4 years

Note

Also hhhh bakugou in arranged marriage w "have you ever kissed anyone before?"

thank you for this request!!

↳ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader → ❝free❞

event: au prompt event summary: you have no choice but to marry bakugou katsuki, your parents made sure of that. he’s the last person you would want to marry but maybe he’s not as bad as you thought. word count: 2,835 tags/warnings: arranged marriage!au, fluff, a hint of angst

It would have been your preference to not end up in an arranged marriage but sadly you didn’t have much choice. It wasn’t that you were in love with someone and couldn’t stand the thought of being without them. No, you were single and had been for a long time. Well forever technically.

Maybe that was why your parents had set you up with Bakugou Katsuki. Well set up was a polite way to put it. More like guilted into and slightly threatened into an arranged marriage. Your parents were great heroes with great quirks that were passed down to you and you were following in their footsteps as a hero.

They wanted you to have children that would also have a great quirk. There way of doing that was to have you marry Bakugou Katsuki. If you refused not only would they be upset but they had threatened to kick you out of the family agency and denounce you which would end your dreams of taking over the family agency. You considered starting your own but if they denounced you publicly you would drop so hard in the ranks you wouldn’t be able to.

It was a bad situation altogether but you supposed that there were worse things than getting married. You just weren’t sure if it was better or worse that you were familiar with Bakugou. The explosive hero, Ground Zero, was known to all. He was an impressive hero with a powerful quirk it was no wonder that your family picked him. You had worked with him enough to know that his personality was a bit much. Fitting to his quirk.

Your mother had insisted that you meet him for dinner, you were thankful she didn’t insist on attending with your father. At least you could try to pretend this was just a blind date and not the first official meeting that would end in you marrying someone you hardly knew.

There were very few things in your power so one way you decided to get your internal revenge was by dressing down for your first meeting. A part of you hoped he would be so unimpressed with you that he would back out and you would be free. Maybe if you had more time you could establish your own agency before they found another suitor.

The dinner was at one of, if not the nicest restaurant in town. You were certain sweat pants and a loose shirt were not to dress code but that was the point. You internally snickered at the look the hostess gave you as you told them you were here for a reservation under Bakugou.

Approaching the table you almost felt bad when you saw how nice Bakugou had dressed for the date.

“You’re dressed nice.” He comments sarcastically.

“Only the best for my betrothed.” You said giving a curtsy before sitting down. “Can’t say I’d ever imagined I’d be here with you.”

“I can say the same thing.” He said.

You ordered a drink, something strong to get you thought the night. Bakugou wasn’t your favorite person, granted you couldn’t say that you knew him very well but your interactions had always been tense at best.

“So why did you agree to this?” You questioned.

“I have a few reasons.” He said but you already knew he wasn’t going to elaborate.

The rest of the dinner was awkward. You discussed details of the process. It was very taboo arranging marriages in this day and age so it was to be kept secret. You would ‘date’ for a few months before planning the wedding. You have a few drinks ordered something expensive and left him with the bill going home to sulk about your new life ahead of you.

You hadn’t expected him to text you that night asking if you got home okay. You smirked at his dismissive response when you asked why he was worried about it.

Bakugou text you that week asking if you were free. You knew that for things to look normal you had to have the appearance of dating even if you would rather avoid him, enjoying the rest of your single life that was fading away quickly.

You figured he would take you out to dinner every once and a while and you would be done with it but he took the time to plan out dates. Taking you to the zoo, to festivals, even to amusement parks. It caught you off guard that everything he planned were things that you enjoyed doing. He would even get you little gifts that you loved, not that you would admit it.

Perhaps what surprised you the most was that he tried to get to know you. The great Bakugou Katsuki, arrogant, hostile, and explosive was taking the time to ask personal questions. You almost resented him for it but after a few dates you realized something.

As much as it gave you a sense of instant gratification to be rude or annoy him in the long run it would only hurt you both. If you had no choice but to marry him did you really want to shoot down his genuine attempts to start a relationship?

You supposed that was how you started to fall for him. When you took the time to answer him genuinely and ask him questions back you realized that he wasn’t the man you thought he was. Underneath all the attitude was a good man who cared and had a good sense of humor. Someone who had been formed by his childhood and the way his parents treated him and was trying to change that. Someone who wanted to be a good hero and help people.

There were even times that you could forget that you didn’t choose him. Sitting with him at dinner laughing at something stupid he said while he nearly pouts at you, how could you remember that this was set up?

It was a beautiful night, a perfect end to a lovely day with Bakugou. He had taken you to all your favorite places, you had eaten your favorite food and now you were in a beautiful part of the city. Lights sparkled around the two of you as you walked through a nice park.

The two of you stopped to take in the view, standing side by side, arms brushing against each other.

“I know that these aren’t normal circumstances but I was hoping today could make things feel a little more normal.” Bakugou said looking over at you before getting down on one knee, presenting a small velvet box to you.

The ring was beautiful, not what you expected. So many would go for the typical ring, silver, shiny with a big diamond on it showing off how expensive it was. But this was exactly your style. It was delicate and detailed with a unique gem, not showy or expensive but your favorite gem stone. Your breath caught in your throat as he stood, sliding the ring onto your finger.

“Bakugou, it’s perfect.” You nearly whispered.

“Call me Katsuki.” He said.

“Thank you, Katsuki.” You said looking up at him. How did he look so perfect in this light? His features so striking and soft at the same time, his red eyes boring into yours with emotion you hadn’t expected from him. When had you fallen so hard for this man? The man just months ago you couldn’t stand.

With his proposal the media went crazy and wedding planning began. It was easy to pretend that you and Bakugou were a normal couple before but with planning underway it was a reminder that this hadn’t been your choice. You were almost upset with yourself that you nearly didn’t care anymore.

Bakugou was good to you, he was considerate and respectful and sometimes it felt like he loved you. Not just the shallow love that many people had for each other but a real kind of love. The kind of love that meant you would do anything just to make sure the other person was happy.

You were at Bakugou’s place cooking together in the kitchen when he brought up a subject you had been hoping to avoid.

“You know, we’ve never kissed before. We’re getting married in a few weeks but no kissing.” He said.

“We’ll get to that at the wedding.” You said not looking away from the vegetables you were chopping, hoping he would drop the subject.

“Are you blushing?” You could hear the smirk in his voice without looking over.

“I don’t know what your talking about.” You turn to look at him with an annoyed look on your face.

“I know a flustered girl when I see one.” He teased. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You defended. Okay, you could admit that your future husband probably had some business with the topic but you were embarrassed and had been hoping to not bring it up and get it over with at the ceremony.

“Do you want to have your first kiss in front of a crowd?” He asked. “What if you bump your nose into mine? Or hit your teeth?”

Crap. You hadn’t considered the ways things could go wrong. Unfortunately he made a good point, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of who knows how many people. Your mother was relentless with the guest list. How many people could you invite to a wedding?

“Okay, you have a point.” You admitted. “I don’t know how to fix that.”

Bakugou looked at you like you weren’t getting something obvious.

In one quick movement Bakugou went from standing at your side to pushing you against the counter. Suddenly his tall, wide figure felt so imposing in front of yours with his red eyes intense. His hands held the counter behind you, caging you in. There was no escape. He leaned in slowly, your breath frozen in your chest.

“I can think of one way to fix it.” He said in a raspy tone, his lips near your ear. Your heart was pounding in your chest, cheeks burning. “If you’re interested.”

Just like that the topic of your first kiss was very interesting and something you wanted to address right away. You nodded softly, leaning in to him. He met you the rest of the way, one of his hands moving to you cheek preventing you from bumping him accidentally. You silently thanked him for helping you not make a fool of yourself, even if it was just the two of you. He tilted your head before pressing his lips against yours gently. A softness that months ago you would consider impossible for this man.

After a moment he leaned back with a satisfied grin on his lips. You looked at him with hazy eyes, surprised at how emotional you felt. How could one action make you feel so much closer to him?

“Thank you.” You whispered, eyes drifting back to his lips. A part of you wanted to lean in for another kiss but the other part of you wondered if that was too much. This was an arranged marriage and just because Bakugou had been nice to you it didn’t mean he felt that way about you.

As quickly as you felt close to him you now felt miles away. You stood up straight before going back to chopping vegetables. Just because you fell in love with Bakugou Katsuki didn’t mean that he felt the same way.

It was a week till the wedding. One part of you was thankful your mother was so overbearing, making all of the choices for the event. The other part of you, a smaller part wished you could have a small wedding with loved ones in a private place. That same part wished that the man you were marrying loved you back.

Bakugou had texted you asking if you could talk, normally that would make you nervous but you knew that it was probably just something about the wedding. So here you were at his apartment.

Bakugou opened the door, letting you in before leading you to the living room. You took a seat on the couch.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asked standing there.

“I’m good right now.” You answered. “What’s up?”

Bakugou let out a sigh before sitting down next to you. He ran his hands through his hair nervously before finally speaking.

“Do you want to cancel the wedding?” He asked.

Your heart dropped. Did he not like you so much that he was ready to back out of the contract. No doubt he knew the repercussions, your parents were ruthless they would drag his name through the mud. The worst part was him asking made you realize that you did want to marry him.

“Even if I did want to I don’t have a choice.” You admitted. You never explained how your parents had forced you into this.

“What do you mean?” He questioned.

“If I don’t marry you my parents will kick me out of the family agency, denounce me in public make it impossible for me to get another job much less not drop to the bottom of the ranks. All my hero dreams gone.” You explained.

An emotion you didn’t recognize flashed across his face before he let out another sigh.

“Your parents approached me, offered me the opportunity to marry you, promised that they would help me in the ranks and my agency.” He said. “That’s not why I agreed, I have no interest in help. I don’t need it. They threatened something similar with me if I didn’t agree.”

It was sad, a part of you wasn’t even shocked that they had forced Bakugou into this too. Your parents had a lot of influence it wasn’t a joke.

“I’m sorry, they’re awful people.” You said as you looked down.

“They don’t scare me, they might be powerful but I’m a top ten hero, I was mentored by All Might, all of my friends are pro heroes, I have my own influence.” He said. “The reason I agreed was you.”

“Me?” You questioned looking up in confusion.

“I’ve always liked you, wanted to get to know you but you never gave me the time of day. I know that this wasn’t the best circumstances but I don’t regret getting to spend this time with you, to really get to know you.” He said. “I never intended on going through with the wedding unless you were one hundred percent okay with it.”

“Katsuki I-” You started but he cut you off.

“I love you, it was too easy to fall in love.” He said. “I care about you more than anything. I don’t want you to feel forced into anything. Back out of the contract, work at my agency, and I’ll make sure your reputation doesn’t suffer.”

“Katsuki.” You said quietly, tears welling in your eyes. He loved you. “Katsuki, I love you too. We could just save the trouble and get married, if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe them anything, I don’t want you to feel trapped.” He said. “I want to propose again and make it feel perfect, not like it was expected because of a contract.”

Not only did he love you but he was willing to risk himself to free you form your parents grasp. Tears spilled down your cheeks and you nearly tackled him as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you, Katsuki.” You sobbed. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for you, princes.” He said as he wrapped his arms around you. “Anything.”

Bakugou did as he promised. His team at his agency was able to compile all the evidence that your parents had forced you into this contract. He gave you a job that you enjoyed far more than working at your parents agency. He even promised to help you start your own agency if that was what you wanted to do. Your parents were torn apart in the media, losing almost all of their power and influence.

You were free. Not only were you free but you had Bakugou. You moved in together, loving the time that you spent with him in and out of work. Bakugou proposed again, making it even more special than the first time. You had a feeling it was coming when you couldn’t find your ring.

You had the wedding you wanted, small and with close friends and family in a secluded destination far away from the city.

Marrying Bakugou had felt like the worst thing that could happen to you at first but as you walked down the aisle towards him dressed in a nice black suit it was hard to imagine you could ever feel that way.

Bakugou Katsuki was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkglovesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write

#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my writing #au prompts #terrifying-testicles

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years

Text

I want to do a one-shot where Karin time-travels and, for a variety of reasons, Mito just claims "This is my cousin" and the refuses to elaborate whenever someone asks about the weird aggressive science girl. Hashirama gets like 50% of an explanation, maybe, but that’s because he has Husband Privilege and gets to Know Things, sometimes.

Mito, pushing Karin at Tobirama: Here. Make friends. Karin: He's like a decade older than me. Mito: You both like cutting brains open for fun, talk about that. Tobirama:

IDK if I want to pull another Sasuke-and-Taka-are-also-there-just-out-of-reach, but I do like the idea of Mito quietly using Karin's knowledge of future events to manipulate the war with the Uchiha to a quicker end, so less people die.

(She low-key wants to see if Karin gets in a shouting match with Madara without Madara being allowed to Attempt A Murder.)

Mito is Very Poised And Regal And Professional and sometimes she likes to take the Tiny Anger Cousin and point her at annoying people.

Karin "I have a permit" "This just says 'I do what I want'?"

Also, like, I could age Karin up enough to ship her with someone, but imo the idea of Tobirama going "I have a science sidekick," and Izuna just screaming WHY at the top of his lungs is hilarious. Maybe not quite a decade, but like... eh, five or six years? She’s seventeen, just post-Kaguya; he’s early twenties, just a few years before Izuna’s death/Konoha’s founding? Honestly, Hashirama’s just happy (and a wee bit concerned) that Tobirama found someone to be Science Weird with. Friendship! It involves autopsies!

(Karin is... endlessly bitching about how she doesn't have access to the tech she's used to.)

On a softer note: Tobirama who understands chakra sensing as well as Karin does, and can use his chakra to interrupt a nightmare and wake her up without actually touching (and triggering) her, and quickly finds himself as the go-to cuddlebug for a Concerningly Small Kunoichi.

#Uzumaki Mito #Uzumaki Karin #Senju Tobirama #Uchiha Madara #Uchiha Izuna #Senju Hashirama #autopsy mention #science ninjas #Phoenix Posts #Naruto #Time Travel

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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

Text

swoon june day 15: masquerade

He finds her quicker than he normally does at these sorts of things. It’s surprising, given the masks and elaborate apparel of all in attendance. But Anakin recognises Padmé's soft extravagance immediately, and can’t find it in himself to be discreet as he cuts across the dance floor to pull her from her conversation with other senators.

“Milady,” he says, resting a hand at the small of her back. She flinches in surprise, but turns to him and offers a strange smile. “Sorry to interrupt,” he says, nodding to the other senators who look miffed at his intrusion. He doesn’t remotely care. “But I was hoping for a dance.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just offers her hand and allows him to pull her to the dance floor.

It’s liberating, being able to be with her like this, unconcerned by the watchful eyes and judging gazes. He should be more careful, anyway–he knows he should. But it’s so rare for him to be able to have his hands on her anywhere that isn’t her apartment, so he’ll take further advantage of the convenience than he likely should.

He tries to pull her closer to him, annoyed by the inches of space she’s purposefully placed between them.

“Padmé,” he says, under his breath. “What are you doing...no one’s even watching. Just–”

She places a hand on his chest, pushing him back. Her feet don’t falter and their rhythm isn’t lost, but Anakin reels back nonetheless.

“What’s wrong?” he says, trying again to pull her flush against him. She shakes her head quickly. “Padmé,” he sighs. “I’ve missed you. Please, just–”

“She wishes to see you,” she says quietly.

Anakin stumbles, but manages to catch himself and her, continuing their gait about the floor. He squints, focusing on the eyes behind the mask. “Motée?” he whispers.

A slight nod.

His eyes widen in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.” He clears his throat. “Where’s–”

“Her office.”

His face screws up in confusion. “Her office? She’s supposed to be here. How...why–” He straightens up, almost stepping on her feet. “Is she all right?”

Motée’s eyes flicker to the side of the room, where Obi-Wan sits, primly watching the room around him. His mask is in place, but his shoulders are hunched in further than they should be. He’s ignored all of Anakin’s attempts to engage him in the gala.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asks in bewilderment. “What does he–”

She nods her head emphatically.

“Oh,” he sighs. “The Duchess.”

Motée’s hand squeezes his, tightly.

“I’m gonna–” His eyes shift between the door and Obi-Wan. “I’m gonna go.” He drops her hands and begins to walk, but then turns. “Will you…” He bites his lip, struggling for the words. “Can you–”

“I’m going to grab a refreshment,” Motée says. “Perhaps Master Kenobi will want one as well.”

Anakin smiles gratefully. “Thank you.” She nods and turns to walk toward the older Jedi.

Anakin makes it to the doors of the ballroom and slips through them, beginning the jog from the top of the Senatorial Complex down to the lower levels containing Padmé’s office. He’s out of breath by the time he arrives, but he steels himself and knocks anyway. The echo of his mechno-arm against the durasteel door hollows through the hall.

The door slides open.

“Padmé?” he calls immediately, his eyes searching the room. He finds her, crumpled on the floor, an elaborate dress bunched up in a pool around her. An exquisite scarlet and black mask is on the floor next to her, looking crumpled and tossed aside.

“Hey,” he says with a frown, rushing to her. He drops to the floor in front of her, careful not to step on her dress. He’s committed that crime far too many times to be so foolish now, even in the midst of her distress. “What’s going on?”

She looks up at him and the light from the window catches on the wetness of her cheeks. Without thinking, he lifts his hand to gently swipe at them. She closes her eyes and leans into his hand.

“Talk to me,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbones. WIth his other hand, he pulls off his own mask, tossing it to the side. It matches hers, he realises, and knows that wasn’t an accident. “Are you okay? Motée said…”

She cuts him off with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry,” she manages. “I didn’t mean to pull you from the gala. I just...I–”

“Hey, hey, shh,” he says, sliding his hand down under her chin. He pulls her gaze up. “Don’t apologise. I hate those things anyway, you know that. The only reason I go is to see you.”

She tries for a sort of snort, but it falls pathetically between them. “And Obi-Wan,” she adds.

“I mean sure,” Anakin shrugs theatrically, “he doesn’t look bad in dress robes, so I suppose that’s another reason, but–” he trails off, the joke clearly not doing anything to fill the cracks of Padmé’s countenance. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “I go for Obi-Wan, too.”

“How is he doing?” she asks.

“The same.” He drops his hand and frowns. “He won’t let me help him. I know he’s in pain, but he...he won’t let me do anything. Won’t even talk about it.”

She nods and another tear falls down her cheek. He catches it with the tip of his finger. “He cared about her deeply.”

“He loved her,” Anakin corrects fiercely, then takes a breath. “But I don’t understand why he’s so ashamed of that. Why–”

“He’s not ashamed, Ani,” Padmé says, frowning at her husband. “He’s grieving.”

“Well then he should do something about it.” He throws his hands up in frustration. Fire sparks in his fists as he thinks about the monster who did this to the Duchess, to Obi-Wan. “We know where Maul is. We should–”

“Ani.”

He falls from his precipice of rage. “What?”

“Not everyone grieves the same, my love.”

And something about the way she’s looking at him, like she’s chastising him but also pitying him–it makes him pause.

“You’re grieving, too,” he says in final understanding, guilt and shame drowning him. He’s sitting here planning revenge while his wife cries on the floor of her office, skipping the masquerade he knows she’s been looking forward to for weeks. “Padmé,” he chokes out, “I’m so sorry. She was your friend. You–”

She shakes her head again, offering a sad smile. “It’s okay,” she says. “But yes. She was.”

His hands are around her shoulders within moments, pulling her into his chest. She snakes her arms under his robes to clasp behind his back–and falls apart. Her trickle of tears become a steady stream and she heaves as she struggles to find oxygen between her broken sobs.

Anakin hates this feeling. Hates the knowledge that he can’t do anything to expunge her pain. He doesn’t want to ease it, he wants to erase it. She deserves infinite happiness and he can’t give it to her. It’s another stinging reminder of how much more he has to learn and become to be enough.

“I’m so...tired of this war,” she manages into the folds of his tunic. She’s still shaking. “I’m so tired of losing.”

swoon june 2021 prompts

#swoonjune2021 #my fic #anidala #:'((((((

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oldfritz · 3 years

Note

I'm genuinely curious and don't want to start something! Just wanted to ask what you make of the 'Old Fritz might've been asexual' take, I don't know much about him and I feel you're one of the best people to ask esp since you lean towards 'he was probably queer in some way' too

Hey there! So, first off, don’t ever worry about me interpreting you asking me a question as starting something. As much as I love making dumb jokes about the guy, I love nothing more than doing this kind of stuff and defending or explaining my points. There’s two degrees I want to get over the next decade: first my JD and then my MA in Prussian history. I live for this stuff! Always have! Second off, I’m very sorry for not getting to this sooner. Things have been incredibly stressful for me for a variety of different reasons which have made answering your question, until now, rather difficult. Putting this under a cut because, holy shit, it got long!

My personal reasoning for why I think he’s bi (which, correct me if I’m wrong, I’m assuming is what you meant instead of ace and could be a different post entirely since some historians have tried to argue that) stems more to do with some of my lingering questions about the nature of his relationships with certain woman, rather than that of his relationships with men. To me and my modern, queer eye, Fritz’s relationships with men like Hans Hermann von Katte, Francisco Algarotti, Michael Gabriel Fredersdorf, and (much to my personal vexation) one Monsieur Voltaire are either outright homosexual/homoerotic in nature or very, very easily lend themselves to that interpretation rather than strictly romantic friendships (which Wikipedia does a fairly good overview of and, if you’re coming to me from AmRev perspective, uses Hamilton and Laurens’ relationship as a familiar example). While I’m avoiding those relationships in this ask, I’d be more than happy to elaborate upon one/all of them in a different one.

Before I go into the big pauses that Fritz’s relationships with Madame von Wreech and Countess Orzelska give me, I want to deny the use of Fritz’s wife as an example of Fritz’s attraction to woman. While this, admittedly, may sound odd, we have ample evidence of how turned off and repulsed Fritz found Elisabeth Christine. Before he had even met her, Fritz was complaining about how she was ‘not very pretty, speaks but little, and acts like a blockhead’ (Asprey, 87) and, later, admitted to Grumbkow his plan to ‘keep my word,...get married, but afterwards it will be a case of that is that, and goodbye, Madame, and fare thee well’ (Jones, 52). For Christ’s sake, the man pitied her knowing how his treatment would leave her as ‘one more unhappy princess in the world’! Which is little consolation when you remember he also referred to her with such romantic terms as ‘this unpleasant creature,’ ‘the abominable object of my desires,’ ‘the person,’ and claimed to have preferred to marry ‘the biggest whore in Berlin’ (Asprey, 87). And while we (fortunately? unfortunately?) know quite a bit about their sex life, Fritz largely regarded it as just another duty - to quote him, ‘I will only have the duty to fuck’ (Ibid, 87). And while Seckendorf heard - first, presumably from Count von der Schulenburg and, later on, Count Friedrich von Wartensleben, a close and intimate friend of the then-crown prince - that Fritz would ‘fuck and refuck’ Elisabeth Christine and that said act occurred in the afternoon, it still was out of a sense of obligation (Bely, 481-2). When reminded that if he wanted more money for frivolities, he’d need to produce an heir, Fritz bemoaned that he ‘cannot sleep with my wife out of desire, and when I do sleep with her, I do it out of duty rather than inclination’ (Clark, 50). All this in accumulation, as well as the myriad of other quotes and incidents I’ve left out, makes one wonder why his relationship with Elisabeth Christine is sometimes used by historians to prove any sort of heterosexual impulse in the man when she’s the woman with the weakest supports for that argument.

That being said, now we get to the women with a more muddled places in his romantic escapades, if you will. What exactly happened between Orzelska and Fritz during his trip with his father to Dresden in 1728? The main source for everything that occurred during this trip is Wilhelmina, who didn’t attend and without anything about this specific incident coming from Fritz or Friedrich Wilhelm I, make it rather hard to use as concrete, irrefutable proof. Now, if her recollections were contemporaneous - like coming from a diary or journal she kept at the time - that would be one thing. But it comes from her memoirs which, while a delightful read 10/10 recommend, are written decades after this trip took place and, memory being a finicky thing, can’t be taken to the bank. All those disclaimers, here’s the story as told by her:

‘One evening...,the King of Poland [note: Augustus II] insensibly led the King of Prussia to a very richly decorated room...The King of Prussia, delighted with what he saw, stopped to contemplate all its beauties, when [all of] a sudden a tapestry was rolled up, which procured him a very novel sight. It was a lovely female in a state of nudity [note: Countess Orzelska, the Polish king’s daughter], carelessly reclined on a couch. Her beauty excelled that of the finest pictures of Venus and the Graces; her body seemed of ivory, whiter than snow, and better shaped than that of the Venus de Medicis at Florence.

...Scarcely had the King cast his eyes on the fair one, than he turned about with indignation; and seeing my brother behind him, he rudely pushed him out of the room, and left it immediately after in a violent irritation against the trickery they had attempted to practice on him. ...In spite of the King’s vigilance, [Frederick] had had time to contemplate the Venus of the closet, who did not cause him so much horror as she had done to his father. (Wilhelmina’s Memoirs, vol. 1, 107-6)

Wilhelmina then goes on to claim Fritz had fallen ‘passionately in love’ with Orzelska and that the illness Fritz experienced upon returning home was simply being lovesick. Pinning the accuracy of this story is incredibly difficult because, again, we have only one source relayed decades after the fact and from two volumes of memoirs known to have inaccuracies. While I, personally, would love if he had had a tryst with Orzelska (who is such a badass in her own right and deserves more recognition than as a footnote in this guy’s story), there’s no one way to say with more than 30% confidence. I am inclined to believe something along these lines happened because if someone told me a story like this, lord knows I wouldn’t forget it for the rest of my life. And, with Wilhelmina being so close with her brother, it lends a bit more credence but as to the actual emotional or physical response Fritz had to it, well, without my time machine, I can’t and don’t want to say.

With Madame Eleonore-Louise von Wreech, things are a little more concrete. For starters, Fritz actually talked about her! In written correspondence that survived! We even have seven letters between the two of them that survived, which is a bigger win! As Blanning says, they’re ‘ardent but light in tone, ironic, almost flippant, and highly stylized’ (Blanning, 58). Their relationship was known to those close with Fritz at the time that Schulenberg felt compelled to visit and warn the crown prince against devoting himself to women because ‘the slight pleasures gained cause a million displeasures.’ Fritz’s response? To tell the poor guy that he may have ‘the gift of continence, but I assure you that I do not’ (Asprey, 83-4). Firtz even went so far as to send a letter to her mother, waxing poetic about Louise’s ‘beauty, her majestic air, her bearing, and her entire department.’ It’s worth noting that Louise eventually broke off the affair due to being bored by how he ‘loved [her] too much and often annoyed [her] with his clumsy love’ (Ibid, 84). Contemporaries, including Friedrich Wilhelm, believed Fritz had impregnated her with a daughter who her ‘cuckolded husband would refuse to recognize’ (Blanning, 58). Blanning is the only source I’ve seen dispute this due to this news coming from Seckendorf, who didn’t reveal how he came about this information; that Fritz and Madame von Wreech’s correspondence doesn’t indicate a physical relationship; and on the fact that she was not pregnant. I haven’t been able to find the birth dates or any sort of records for Louise’s two daughters to figure out where their conception could’ve been in the timeline and if it matches with the likely dates for the affair, but I also don’t have the resources Cambridge would afford Blanning. Either way, while the physical nature of the affair is in dispute, the emotional aspect certainly was there. Especially when taking into consideration the fact that she’s the woman Fritz was likely referring to in the 16 August 1737 letter to Voltaire where he claimed she had taught him how to love (and also inspired him to write poetry, which we shouldn’t be thankful for). Specifically, all these years later, he stated how ‘this little miracle of nature possessed every possible charm, together with good taste and delicacy. She sought to transfer these qualities to me. I succeeded well in love but poorly in poetry. Since that time I have very often been in love and have always been a poet’ (Fritz’s Oeuvres, vol. 21, 96).

All this to say, there’s a bit too much evidence of some degree of opposite-gender attraction in Fritz to completely write off the possibility that he could’ve been bisexual. While it’s undeniable he held a preference for men and that’s whose company he typically enjoyed, I still do find it interesting the two exceptions (one potential and the other with a fair degree of certainty) to this. And, while I would never want his attraction to men be minimized in favor of that to women, it still remains important to note to get the most comprehensive picture of the man.

#frederick the great #elisabeth christine #countess orzelska #madame von wreech #asks #anonymous

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just-a-poor-boy-queen · 3 years

Note

Alternate Universe requested by anon

The first thing Freddie noticed when he woke up was that he was wearing waders.

This was most peculiar. He never wore waders. The only person in Garden Lodge who wore waders was Jim for when he was cleaning out the koi pool. Freddie would sometimes throw them on as a joke, laughing at how they were too big for him; but today, to his surprise, they fitted perfectly. Even stranger was the pair of large wellington boots he was sporting on his feet, caked in mud and the most hideous shade of green. This was an outfit he wouldn’t be seen dead in, let alone asleep in.

What the hell is going on? He thought to himself as he stumbled out of bed, only realising once he was at the door that this wasn’t his bedroom at all. It was much smaller, with hideous peeling wallpaper and a tiny, single bed crammed in the corner. The place reeked of an odour that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost smelled like… dog.

This was either an elaborate prank or some horrific dream, Freddie decided as he quickly descended the staircase, hoping that he might suddenly snap out of this nightmare if he ran into a familiar face. He heard Phoebe’s voice coming from the lounge downstairs and he quickly made a beeline for the room, desperately throwing open the door.

‘Phoebe, something weird is going on!’ He declared, only to stop in his tracks when he saw the other man.

Phoebe was… working out. Lifting weights, more specifically. In all the years that Freddie had known him, he had never seen Phoebe lift weights. Even more shocking was that the usually chubby man was now built like a tank. It was so surreal it was almost disturbing. Phoebe was a round, jolly guy who loved his food and never worried too much about his body image. This guy on the other hand...

‘What is it now?’ Phoebe sighed and set his weights down, flexing his huge bicep. ‘Shouldn’t you be out doing the garden? The boss is going to kill you if he catches you slacking.’

‘The garden?’ Freddie replied, appalled. ‘Why would I be doing the garden? That’s Jim’s job!’

Phoebe rolled his eyes. ‘Very funny, Freddie. Now, if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of something.’

Freddie opened his mouth to protest but Phoebe had already gone back to his weights and started lifting again. Annoyed, the singer turned and stormed out of the room, unable to believe how rude and dismissive his friend was being. And what was all this about “the boss”? Freddie was the boss!

Maybe Joe could shed some light on what was going on. Freddie quickly made his way to the kitchen, where he found the American in the midst of baking a cake, carefully sieving flour into a large bowl.

‘Joe-’ he began, only for the other man to shriek, flour flying everywhere until half the kitchen looked like a Christmas card.

‘Oh, it’s you, Fred.’ Joe clutched his chest dramatically, his glasses completely white. ‘What are you doing here? You should have finished the garden ages ago.’

‘Why does everyone keep banging on about the garden?’ Freddie grumbled, angrily wiping flour off his moustache. ‘And since when are you so easily startled? You nearly shat yourself!’

Joe looked slightly annoyed – at least, Freddie assumed he did, as he couldn’t really see his face under all the flour – ‘you know what a scaredy-cat I am, Freddie. The smallest drop of blood and I’m passed out on the floor. It’s a curse, really.’

Alright, whoever this was, it definitely wasn’t Joe. No way in hell was this the same Joe who, only last week, savagely beat a wasp to death with the kitchen mop, then left its severed head on the kitchen windowsill as a warning to the other wasps.

‘God, look at this mess.’ Joe rushed to the kitchen cupboard and took out a broom, sweeping up the mess on the floor. ‘When the boss sees this, he’ll break my neck!’

‘What are you on about?’ Freddie snarled, ready to tear his hair out. ‘I’m the boss! This is my house!’

‘I’m really not in the mood for jokes right now, Freddie.’ Joe replied, not even looking up at him. ‘Hurry up and get the garden finished, otherwise we’ll all be in the doghouse.’

Freddie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Whatever parallel universe he was trapped in, he wanted out right now. But Joe had already turned his attention to cleaning up the mess, so Freddie had no choice but to leave him to it and trudge out into the garden.

He took a moment to survey the area; he didn’t know the first thing about gardening, despite sometimes watching Jim while he was working and occasionally helping him plant seedlings for his favourite flowers. He noticed a rake laying nearby and decided to start by raking the leaves off the lawn. How hard could it be?

‘Freddie? Freddie! Where have you got to?’

The sound of Jim’s voice echoing across the garden alerted Freddie, and he almost tumbled right off the ladder he had been balancing on to trim the hedges. He had never realised gardening was so much work; he was covered from head to foot in soil, his waders ruined and his hair dripping wet from when he had attempted to reposition the stone bowl in the koi pool, only to fall in face first. But none of that mattered now. Jim was here. His wonderful Irish husband was here, and he was going to sort this horrible mess out.

‘Jim!’ He cried as he entered the conservatory and found the Irishman standing there, looking unusually solemn. He immediately threw his arms around his neck. ‘Jim, I’m so glad to see you! You won’t believe the day I’ve had-’

He was cut off as Jim abruptly pushed him away; taken by surprise, Freddie didn’t have time to steady himself and ended up on the floor.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!’ Jim barked, wiping off the dirt that had smudged all over his expensive looking shirt. ‘You really think that’s an acceptable way to behave with your boss? You should know your place by now, Mercury!’

Freddie stared at him from where he sat on the floor, dumbfounded. What was going on? Why was Jim treating him like this? There had to be some mistake.

‘Jim,’ he said softly, his eyes large and confused, ‘it’s me.’

‘Yes, it is. Unfortunately.’ Jim huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘For God’s sake, you’re filthy! And what the hell have you done to my garden?’

Freddie glanced out of the conservatory window, noting the misshapen hedges, the large holes in the lawn from where he had clumsily attempted to plant flowers, and the overturned stone bowl in the koi pool which miraculously hadn’t crushed any of the fish. Gardening clearly wasn’t his forte.

‘I-I did my best.’ Freddie insisted nervously.

‘A blind monkey could have done a better job.’ Jim snapped, crossing over to the drinks cabinet and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. ‘I sometimes wonder why I keep you on, Mercury. You’re absolutely useless.’

Freddie felt the colour drain out of his face. This wasn’t the Jim he loved. This man was cruel and demeaning, treating him like he was nothing more than mud beneath his shoe. His sweet and lovely Jim would never do this.

‘Jim, please!’ Freddie scrambled to his feet, grabbing Jim’s sleeve desperately before he could take a swig of his drink. ‘It’s me, Freddie. Your husband.’

Jim scoffed, shrugging the Persian off as if he were an annoying fly. ‘Husband? Sorry Mercury, but I don’t bat for your team. I don’t know what sort of weird obsession you have with me, but you’d better stop it. I won’t have any of that queer shit in my house.’

His house? What did he mean, his house? This was their house. Well, legally it was Freddie’s, but he had always considered it Jim’s home as much as his own. Tears rushed to Freddie’s eyes. This couldn’t be real. Any moment now, he would wake up and find out this was all just an awful dream.

‘Jim, I’m telling the truth! I’m your husband!’ Freddie rambled, heart breaking as Jim rolled his eyes in disgust and took another sip of whiskey. ‘Look, you bought that ring on your finger to show your commitment to me! And you bought one for me too, right here-’

He went to show Jim the ring on his right hand, only to find his finger bare. He immediately panicked. Where was it? Had he lost it? Had it fallen into the koi pool during the incident with the stone bowl? Had someone stolen it?

‘I’m not sure what planet you’re living on, Mercury.’ Jim finished his drink in a single gulp, completely ignoring Freddie’s distress. ‘But I bought this ring to show my commitment to my fiancée, not you.’

‘Your fiancée?’ Freddie could feel the walls closing in around him; in that moment, his entire world shattered and suddenly his lungs were fighting for air. ‘But who-?’

‘Oh, Jiiiim!’ The sound of the front door closing came from the hallway; moments later, the conservatory door swung open, and a familiar blond woman strode inside, laden down with dozens of shopping bags.

Freddie’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. ‘Mary?’

Mary pulled down her sunglasses a moment to acknowledge him, ‘oh, hi Freddie,’ before she immediately turned her attention to Jim and pressed a big wet kiss to the Irishman’s mouth. ‘Thank you so much for giving me another credit card, darling. I know I maxed out the last three, but I just had to buy that new dress I saw in the boutique window.’

‘Anything for the love of my life.’ Jim crooned, rubbing their noses together in a way that made Freddie want to vomit. ‘I’m glad you’ve had a better day than I have – just look at what that idiot’s done to the garden!’

‘Now, now, Jimmy.’ Mary replied, looking at the man as if he was a deity. ‘You know we have to be patient with the help. It’s not like anyone else will hire him.’

Freddie had never hit a woman in his life, but right now Mary was really tempting him.

‘Here,’ Mary held out her bags to Freddie, looking down her nose at him as if he were contagious, ‘take these up to my room, would you? Jimmy and I need to discuss the plans for our wedding.’

Freddie’s cheeks burned with both anger and despair. He went to take the bags when he noticed the gold band on her left hand; it was much smaller, clearly fitted for a woman, but he would recognise it anywhere.

‘My ring!’ he cried, hands clenching into fists as his entire body began to shake. ‘That’s the ring Jim gave me!’

‘Don’t mind him, love.’ Jim put an arm around Mary, a horrible sneer on his face. ‘I think he’s been snorting something; all sorts of crap is coming out of his mouth today. Make yourself useful, Mercury, and go take the dogs for a walk. Maybe that will sober you up a bit.’

‘Dogs?’ Was all Freddie managed to get out before the door flew open again and he was set upon by at least six or seven four-legged fiends.

Don’t misunderstand, Freddie liked dogs. But unlike cats, dogs lacked any sort of grace and dignity; they piled on top of him like they wanted him dead, tongues licking mercilessly at his face until he managed to wriggle free and take cover on one of the sofas.

‘Since when do we have dogs?!’ he practically screamed over all the barking, holding up a pillow to shield himself as a dog the size of a bear leaped onto the sofa to join him.

‘Your memory needs testing, Mercury. We’ve always had dogs. You sleep in their room, for God’s sake.’ Jim refilled his glass and called over to the Newfoundland, which was currently smothering the Persian man. ‘Bad dog, David. You know you’re not allowed on the sofa.’

‘David?’

‘Yes, David. Phoebe said we should have called him Goliath because of his size, but I thought David would be funnier. Completely catches people off guard.’

Freddie felt his spirit rise out from his body and drift up towards the ceiling.

‘Right, you’ll need to keep him on a tight leash if you’re going to take him through the park – you know how much David loves children and I don’t want any parents filing a lawsuit because he’s knocked their kid over.’ Jim said, as Mary took out a small pocket mirror and began applying lipstick. ‘Juliet gets really nervous, so make sure none of the others bully her. And Samson hates you, so just keep out of his way.’

Freddie glanced over at the white poodle with brown markings, who was growling at him menacingly. No, no, no, not Delilah. She was his baby, his princess. How could she ever hate him?

‘By the way, Jim!’ Mary chirped, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around her as the dogs swarmed the conservatory. ‘I took another test this morning and it came back positive – I am pregnant!’

Freddie covered his ears and screamed.

‘Freddie? Freddie, wake up!’

Freddie bolted upright, panicking when he felt his arms pinned to his sides, only to realise he had cocooned himself in the bedsheets. Jim was right beside him, carefully untangling him and smoothing back his sweaty hair while the singer trembled, mind still stirring from the nightmare he had just awoken from.

‘Sweetheart?’ Jim said softly once his husband had time to calm down. ‘You were crying out in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?’

As if snapping out of a trance, Freddie felt his right hand in the darkness, almost weeping when he realised it was bare. ‘My ring! Where’s my ring?’

‘Shh, shh, it’s okay, love.’ Jim soothed, reaching over to turn on one of the lamps and pointing to Freddie’s bedside table. ‘It’s right there, safe and sound.’

Freddie immediately grabbed it and slid it onto his finger, vowing never to remove it again, not even when he took a bath. He turned and snuggled into Jim’s arms, head tucked under the Irishman’s chin, relieved that he wasn’t pushed away.

‘That must have been one hell of a dream.’ Jim murmured, kissing Freddie’s temple. ‘Are you alright?’

Freddie wasn’t sure if he’d ever get those images out of his head. Having to wear waders. Phoebe with a six pack. Joe being skittish as a kitten. Destroying his own lawn with his terrible gardening. Jim treating him like garbage. Mary wearing his ring on her finger. His lovely cats transformed into a kennel of hyperactive, smelly dogs.

But it was just a dream. He was back in reality now, safe in Jim’s arms.

‘I am now.’ He mumbled sleepily into Jim’s neck, placing a kiss against his throat. So long as Jim was his, he would always be alright.

The prompt

OH MY GOD I AM DYING😂😂😂😂

Ahh fuck this is so good I am STILL DYING😂

Firstly, kudos to the anon who came up with such a brilliant prompt. I mean this is innovative af, and you did complete justice to it, writer anon! I had actually forgotten about the prompt, and was afraid that it wasn't a dream😂

Freddie reactions were the best part lmao. How he's utterly horrified at the aspect of Jim and Mary (behold the return of jimary!) being partners, his baby delilah (rather her counterpart) hating him, Phoebe being a gym-aholic and ahhhh Joe, sweet baby Joe actually being sweet like a baby kitten😂😂 I loved it all! Imma reread this so many times ahahahahahah oh god.

(More drabbles by writer anon)

#ask response #anon writing #jim hutton #freddie mercury #alternate universe #jimary

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be-ace-write-crime · 4 years

Text

Lovely Bride - Third Wedding Night

Only one pillarman left who's trust you'll have to win more than any other. Unfortunately Kars may be your greatest challenge yet. You woke up having no idea how much time had passed, but you knew for sure you weren’t in the same bed. The single candle by your bedside was on a different table and these black silk sheets were not the ones you had buried your hands in when Esidisi made love to you last night. Also the light of the candle only reached the one wall the table and the bed were set up against, meaning this room had to be bigger than Esidisi or Wamuu’s rooms.

“You’re finally awake.”

The level, indifferent voice of Kars breaking through the quiet darkness made you jump, sitting upright in the bed, sheets pulled up to your chest.

“It’s only me,” he remarked, stepping into the light so you could see him. That put your mind at ease a little, but not completely. Of all the pillar men, Kars still scared you. He had a calculated coldness about him that overshadowed his more human side, which you had only caught glimpses of.

“Good morning,” you murmured, for lack of anything better to say. “Lord Kars,” you quickly added, bowing your head.

“It’s evening, actually,” he said, giving you an amused smile as he came to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning in close. You naturally pulled back upon having him enter your personal space, but with practically nowhere to go you just pulled the covers up until you were almost hiding like a child. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

You considered the question. You weren’t hurting anywhere. You considered how you were feeling emotionally and your barely awake self quickly dropped that hornet's nest and decided to ignore it for now. “I feel fine, master,” you answered.

“Good. You may go out if you wish. You may sleep here as well. I rarely do. I have no intention of consummating our marriage with you tonight. Enough damage has been done to you already,” he said.

You felt a slight sting upon his dismissal and couldn’t keep your mouth shut. “What do you mean by damage? You were the one to suggest Wamuu be my first…”

“I did, but I didn’t expect him to be so careless I would be asked to abandon my work in the middle of the night to rearrange your insides after you had fallen unconscious. Nor did I expect Esidisi to bring you into his bed and do the same thing,” he answered, sounding and looking obviously annoyed. Your eyes went wide and he chuckled dryly. “What? Didn’t you find it strange to awaken without a hint of pain after laying with a pair of gods, little one?”

“I did… a little… I didn’t know you’d had to…” you trailed off, cheeks burning.

“Esidisi brought you here, covered in blood, which thankfully turned out to be his, at least mostly,” he said, cupping your cheek and looking into your eyes as if he were searching for something. You held his gaze, like a deer facing headlights, until he spoke again. “He asked if I would consider giving you the antidote now,” he said, which made you perk up, but his expression remained unreadable. “I will not allow you to die, but you won’t receive the antidote from me just yet,” he answered, which made your heart sink.

“M-May I ask why…?” you whispered.

“As it stands that ring is the only thing binding you to me. I am not prepared to give it up. Not yet,” he responded.

“You have my word,” you said, clutching your sheets a little tighter. Kars shook his head, unmoved, but his eyes softened somewhat.

“Perhaps I could present you with something else to show you my trust? Stand up,” he ordered, standing up himself. You could feel your face burning with embarrassment as you stood before him, naked as the day you were born.

He gently tipped up your chin and kissed your lips and you relaxed thinking that was it. You should really know better by now.

“Don’t flinch, just breathe,” he ordered softly, and before the meaning of those words could register in your brain you felt a stabbing blow right to the center of your chest, knocking all the air out of you. Your eyes went wide and you fell into his arms, trying to push him off at the same time as if it might give you more room to breathe.

Your husband stood over you, studying your reaction and drawing back his hand. He’d just about stabbed you with his pinky, forcing all the muscles in your chest to contract, and you couldn’t fight this reflex, desperately attempting to force breath into your aching chest to no avail.

Teary eyed you fought to draw air into your lungs, all your strength focused on the singular task until you were finally rewarded with the blissful feeling of air flooding your lungs, chest expanding and your extremities tingling as your oxygen was finally replenished.

Kars reached for you and on reflex you slapped his hand away, once bitten, twice shy. To your horror your hand striking his left a large, blistered mark, like you’d shaved off the skin with a burning hot razor. He looked as surprised as you that you’d done it, looking at you with wide eyes. He regained his bearings more quickly than you, smirking and licking his wounds before they healed completely, as if they had never been there.

“I’m glad to see you so lively, but try not to do that again,” he warned you.

“I-I’m sorry, lord Kars! It won’t happen again!” you declared, bowing your head. Still the warmth like sunlight shining from inside kept radiating from within you.

“I studied the scrolls you brought back. Much trivial history and things we had already learned firsthand about your tribe, but this here struck my interest. A means to awaken one’s latent Hamon abilities,” he explained, taking a pitted grape from the basket Esidisi had collected for you and placing it in your hands. The pit sprouted in your hands in the complete darkness of the catacombs. “If the sun is half as bright and wonderful as you, my love, then every second we spent in darkness will have been worth it,” he whispered.

You looked down, awestruck. You’d seen some warriors forcing already budding flowers into bloom to impress girls before, but this seemed far beyond that. Probably since Kars just awakened your powers, you assumed, but you were glowing with excitement nonetheless.

“Get dressed. You are free to practice in both your healing and combat as you see fit. I have much left to do and as night falls Esidisi, Wamuu and I must depart in our search for the stone,” he instructed, tossing you a small bag from the side table behind your basket.

“Y-Yes, thank you, lord Kars…” you said, quickly taking the clothes from the bag and figuring how to put them on. You were surprised to find the soft, black garments to be a two piece set in a similar style as what your husbands preferred to wear. It provided solid covering for every part that really needed it, with translucent silk draped lavishly down your legs like a loincloth, giving the illusion it was only a dark shadow protecting your modesty underneath, as it left your legs clearly visible.

You combed your hair and arranged the jewelry Kars had added to the bag to match, blushing madly. A prostitute would not have dressed so daringly in your little village, and you could feel Kars’ eyes on you like a predator watching its prey. Thankfully Esidisi had left you your dagger and its sheath, which you attached to the waistband of your new attire.

“I wanted you to have this, as you are one of us, but I trust I won’t have to tell you not to let any humans see you like this,” he said, taking the last item from your hands and placing it on your head. It was an elaborate piece of gold chains, coming together around your forehead with a teardrop shaped diamond charm.

“I won’t, master,” you said, face red, yet feeling oddly beautiful. It struck you that he could not have stolen or bought garments like these anywhere and they seemed to be fitted to your form perfectly, meaning either he commissioned this specifically for you, or he had made you these himself. The thought made you shiver, right as his fingers carding through your hair found the shell of your ear, tugging lightly at the lobe.

“If you’ll allow me, I would like to pierce your ears. Perhaps somewhere else as well?” he purred, making the shivers intensify tenfold. “Hmm, but not tonight. I have kept you here long enough and I have things to do before night falls.”

“Yes, master,” you said, taking your candle and your basket. Kars turned around to retreat back into the darkness, most likely to some kind of workspace you couldn’t see. Hopefully you could spend some time with him just before dawn when he returned. For now you would enjoy the sunset and a little snack, one of your private pleasures which you unfortunately couldn’t share with your husbands.

You weren’t sure where you were, but you noticed you were more sensitive to the vibrations around you as you wandered the underground halls. You slowed to a stop and rummaged through the basket, picking up the bottle of wine and a silver chalice cup, pouring to just below the rim and studying the ripples in the vessel carefully.

You also fully planned on drinking this later. Never mind you had just woken up, it was evening and you had reasons to drink. The more you watched the surface, the better you were able to read the ripples as it were. You could sense Kars in the room behind you, heavy footsteps of Wamuu and Esidisi above you, and several things… skittering all around.

One was getting closer, approaching, but hovering just outside the light of your candle. As you moved, it moved with you, stalking you almost.

“I know you’re there,” you called out to it, now a good ways away from Kars’ room, but not knowing if you were any closer to the stairs or not.

“It’s a bit early to be drinking, isn’t it, (Y/N)? Though I suppose it doesn’t matter when you plan to live as a spoilt, drunken wench, just like your mother,” a raspy vampire voice sneered, dropping from the ceiling and stepping into the light.

“What the…” you muttered, less fazed by the insults than you were by this vampire speaking to you, let alone speaking to you like that! You were their superior, although you had yet to put that claim to the test. This one didn’t seem too impressed by your status.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Debauching yourself for the monsters that murdered our kind?!” the vampire hissed, prowling closer to you.

“I am doing what you people asked of me. Meanwhile you are one of the monsters that murdered our kind,” you responded, backing away slowly. You had the candle holder in your dominant hand, the chalice in the other. If you dropped the candle, you’d be in the dark, but you could reach for your dagger. If you dropped the cup, you’d still have the light, but you’d fumble with the dagger in your nondominant hand. You could cry out for help, but this vampire was close enough to be in the light of your flame and it would only need a split second to rip your throat out. It didn’t have to drain you of blood. It wasn’t cornering you just because it was hungry. This one had a grudge against you.

“Don’t provoke me, you disgusting little witch,” he sneered, still coming closer while you backed away. You prayed someone heard you. Your husbands, some other vampire looking to get in their good graces, but you could sense nothing. You weren’t sure how far their supernatural hearing range was, but clearly underground it wasn’t far enough.

Fear was messing with your breathing, making it shallow and weak. You hadn’t trained your hamon, barely knew how to use it at all, and even the faintest sparks of it died as you were almost hyperventilating.

“I don’t even know who you are,” you murmured, looking him up and down. His youthful face and physique were decidedly unfamiliar to you, but he must have been someone from your tribe or maybe some frequently passing merchant, but you drew a complete blank.

“I spent my entire life defending our tribe. I raised warriors by the dozens. I was the reason you had a home, only for you to whore yourself out to the monsters that killed the men who fought and died for you,” he growled under his breath and finally you recognised who you had in front of you and you couldn’t hold back a snorted laugh.

The ‘general’ of your village. He’d been old as dirt by the time you were born, and now he was older still, but the stone mask had restored much of his youth. He didn’t give a damn about the warriors he raised, and he sure as hell didn’t respect them the way your husbands did. He became a vampire by choice, betraying your people, eating them, to save his own skin.

“Right… You abandoned our tribe and begged for mercy, at the cost of their lives , but you call me a traitorous whore?!” you demanded, feeling a flare of vindication at the furious look on the bastard’s face. He was going to murder you, but knowing you got under the self-righteous bastard’s skin was worth it a dozen times over

You were out of time. With the vampire exactly one giant leap away from you, you dropped the candle, the little flame snuffed out by the fall. In a fluent motion you grabbed your blade, catching the gleam of the monster’s teeth right before all went dark around you. He tried to trick you, waiting a split second in the dark so that your reflexive swing would miss and he’d have a clear shot at your throat. What your bloodsucking enemy hadn’t realized was that you had been reading his movements with the ripples in your cup this whole time.

That brief little taste of revenge over the proud bastard looking down on you pushed down your fear enough to get your breathing under control, loading your dagger up with hamon and slashing with every ounce of strength you had.

For a moment you thought you missed, feeling no resistance, waiting to feel claws and fangs shredding your flesh, letting out the blood curdling scream you’d been choking on since that glorified leech first stepped into the light of your flame, but nothing happened.

You were breathing hard, and finally your scream seemed to have drawn your husbands’ attention. Kars was the first to catch up, Esidisi and Wamuu flying down the stairs at the end of the long hall. Esidisi’s flaming aura bathed the stone hallway in light, and you could see what you’d done as Kars locked his arms around you and jumped back with you held flush against his chest.

Your knife had gone through him like he was made of paper, burning him up with hamon. One of his arms hung charred and shriveled up at his side and a massive, smoldering gash had opened up from his shoulder, burning up his throat and going all the way across his chest.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)? What happened?!” Wamuu demanded, a stiff breeze coursing through the underground halls and the wires of his headgear dancing around his temples.

You swallowed, looking down at the vampire who’s eyes were now wide with fear, trying to shake his head, a plea for you not to tell them. As if you would treat him any more kindly than them.

“Please let go…” you murmured. Kars shook like letting go physically strained him, but did and tried to check if you were injured in some way he hadn’t noticed and was hurting you, but you shrugged off his concern. “Thank you, my masters… for the freedom and power you have given me… so that I can kill this hypocrite whore myself!” you yelled, landing a near perfect hamon kick against the side of the vampire’s skull. It exploded like a bag of dust being kicked, the rest of its body falling limp on the floor.

“Did it attack you, (Y/N)?” Esidisi asked. It was hard for them to believe. Their vampires were obedient, but it wasn’t impossible, and certainly more likely than their bride going haywire like this.

“No, it was coming in for a hug! Yes, he attacked me. He said I was…” you sniffled, still instinctively wanting to hide your tears, even in front of Esidisi and Wamuu. You looked back at Kars, who you could only guess was shaking with rage, and you regretted being a smartass with your comments again. “I’m sorry for my outburst, but…” you weren’t sure what else to say.

Without exchanging another word, Esidisi torched the corpse and Wamuu scattered its ashes as if it had never been there. Kars dragged you back into his arms, hugging you tight enough that some joints in your back popped.

“They can’t be trusted…” the eldest of the pillar men muttered, his glare focussing on his two companions. “Get rid of any vampire that was once a hamon user. I will not have our bride endangered within our own home,” he said, with barely restrained rage as he hoisted you into his arms and turned around to take you back to his room.

“Master… There are so many. It’ll be next to impossible to-”

Esidisi was cut off when his master half turned and screamed loud enough to hurt your ears. “THEN KILL THEM ALL!”

You were trembling like a leaf in his arms. Esidisi and Wamuu looked conflicted at each other before bowing and responding in unison.

“Yes, lord Kars!”

Kars took you back to his room and the oppressive darkness was less frightening in his arms, but in the dark you could hear his fangs grinding together, his frustrated, snarled breathing, and the distant screams of his vampire army being slaughtered in the pitch black caves.

“What happened?” he eventually asked. “I let you out of our sight for two minutes…”

“I’m sorry, lord Kars…” you whispered, wiling your voice to stay calm. “I guess it held a grudge towards me for… marrying you and being allowed to live…” you tried to explain.

“I understand that,” he responded tersely. “But WHAT. HAPPENED?!”

“I was able to sense him stalking me in the dark. I called out. He insulted me, my mother and the warriors of my tribe and I responded in kind… He leapt at me and I cut him with the dagger Wamuu let me have… I dropped the candle and lost control of my breathing, so I couldn’t pinpoint him in the dark and screamed and… You know what happened after that…”

“Stupid fragile human…” he muttered, making you cringe. He laid you back down on his bed and laid there with you, keeping you locked tight against his chest. “I won’t allow you to die. I will conquer the sun, the earth and all its wretched creatures if I must. I won’t let you be taken from me.”

You shivered, hiding your face against his chest. The soft mattress dulled the vibrations and this deep into the temple’s catacombs you could scarcely hear the dying screams, the crackling flames and roaring winds.

Without the vampires, who would search for the stone? How could you possibly uncover the treasure they had searched for all these centuries without the hundreds of undead that made up their army to act as their eyes and ears? Was this your fault? Would you be forced to part with your beloved in a month’s time because they could never find the stone at this rate?

It felt like an eternity, but in less than an hour it was done. Kars seemed to know when it was over, picking you up and cradling you gently against his chest as he carried you back, through the halls, up the stairs and eventually into the cool evening air. You could see the ash stained clothes of vampires who would rather take their chances against the sun than die at the hands of their masters. You remembered vividly the general’s face as your foot collided with his skull, skin burning up like a paper mask, flesh tearing and crumbling like burned up charcoal, before the impact splattered the ash like remnants into the air. You could visualize it in slow motion in your mind.

You felt proud. What you’d done was incredible! You’d never imagined you could achieve something like that, and just in the nick of time. At the same time you felt guilty. Not for the act itself, but for feeling proud of something that would inevitably snowball into such a mess.

“It is done, lord Kars,” Esidisi said. You could tell he was every bit as tense as you were, hanging back out of his master’s striking range, although he still smiled to comfort you, and so you smiled back.

“Well done, both of you,” Kars said, sitting on his throne, still holding you as he looked out over the valley. The lights of your village were still dark, and the stars were so much brighter for it, but even their twinkling was of little comfort to you right now.

“If I may say so, my lord. Our dear bride defended herself admirably,” Wamuu said, your smile widening into a grin. Wamuu admired strength above all things. Even if fighting a vampire might have been a small feat to him, he knew you had done something truly incredible in defeating such a powerful opponent.

“She shouldn’t have had to defend herself in the first place…” Kars remarked, dampening your mood again.

“You said I was free to train in combat as I saw fit just minutes before it happened…” You pointed out. Your stomach was in knots already and had been for the better part of an hour. By then you’d rather get it over with and have him snap than to endure his quiet, simmering rage.

“I meant for you to practice, perhaps spar with one of us or some of those pests who would actually obey and protect you. You realize you were inches from death?!” he demanded, fisting a hand in your hair, making you wince.

“I have been inches from death since you and those pests came here! I could have been eaten weeks ago and every second I have been here! I killed the only pest that mattered and you just-”

“Enough!” he yelled, striking at the cracked armrest at his side, shattering it completely. There was dead silence all around. “Be more mindful… of your mortality, little one…” he breathed. His eyes were blazing red and his mane seemed to bristle like that of an angered beast. You nodded as best you could with the iron grip on your own hair, which he eventually released. You didn’t need to be told to get off his lap, you got the hint, watching with teary eyes as he shook off the strands he had pulled out of your scalp.

“We’ll be back by morning,” Kars announced, disappearing in a flash. Esidisi helped you stand, and Wamuu pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You truly fought as brilliantly as the shining dawn, beloved. We shall be with you again before the first light of sunrise,” your first husband whispered, before they too were forced to depart. You nodded and bid them good luck in their search, waiting until you were sure they were out of sight and earshot before angrily kicking the ash stained rags and pebbles around.

“As if that ring you forced on me does too little to remind me what an untrustworthy little mortal I am, lord Kars! I am thoroughly humbled by your gracious gift of conditional mercy! I shall happily bear the weight of my bastard father’s deceit of thee, great and all knowing gods!” you rambled, heading down the mountain with a torch, since there was nothing left to harm you now. People knew not to tread near your village and the monsters haunting it and all the vampires were now gone. At worst you might encounter a wild animal, but those were easily chased off with a torch. Your village lay abandoned still. You felt a wave of guilt as some pets your people held flocked towards you upon seeing you, in search of food and care. Determined to be a better master than Kars and swallow your anger for now, you went around tearing open pantries and food stores. It wouldn’t last them long, but before the time on your ring ran out some humans would realize the structures had been left uninhabited and most of them would find new homes with new owners. Your food back at the temple had gone to waste in a cloud of corpse you kicked up, so for the first time in days you cooked yourself a proper meal.

Releasing the livestock would kill them, so you dutifully went around feeding them too. The sheep and the pigs and the handful of goats and cows and eventually the horses.

Many warriors kept magnificent horses. They were a point of pride and you found them just in time as many were ready to hurt themselves on the fences or stables enclosing them in search of food.

One that caught your attention most was Aries, the big black war-horse that had killed two people in the marketplace once. It was known to be an absolute nightmare, held in check with sharp spikes on its bit and sharper strikes from its master’s whip.

It was a beautiful horse, but it seemed to bristle at your very presence. You laid out food for the huffing and sputtering creature and opened the stable door, jumping aside as quick as you could. It would be both cruel and dangerous to try to herd it back into the stable again, so you decided he might as well roam free. If someone more daring or less cautious than you tried to tame it later, that would be their concern.

You did the same for any other stabled horses, hoping they would be able to live the long and healthy lives they deserved in freedom.

You gathered a new basket of supplies and with a sour expression you headed back up the mountain to await your husbands’ return.

For a while you were able to ignore the steady hoofbeats behind you, though they were easier to sense than any vampire, but after a while it got too close to be a coincidence and you searched the darkness with the light of your torch, which was nearing its end. You could just barely make out the gracefully trotting black mass, its fur shiny in the firelight.

“Aries, no. This is for me. There’s more food down there,” you said, noting the behemoth was more calm now that it had eaten. “Here, last little snack, then go run,” you said, feeding him an apple, which he took without biting or fussing.

It was obvious it was following you and you tried to stop an obvious idea from forming in your mind, but it was too late.

“The moment I put a saddle on you, you’ll kick and stagger, injure me and enrage lord Kars. You were not made to be ridden, and you were most definitely not made to pull a cart,” you told him sternly, only to have him rub his giant head against you like a massive cat.

“I chose you,” the bastard seemed to say. “I chose you, so deal with the consequences.”

“Terrible, awful, murderous demon baby you are,” you muttered absently a while later as you were cautiously brushing down the massive horse, unable to keep the affection out of your tone. “Almost as bad as the terrible, awful, murderous demon husbands I married. I love you and I love them, but they talk about as well as you do,” you said. “I would have gladly helped look for the stone. I’d have gone out during the day and actually searched, asked people, anything. Instead I’m… Well I probably spent more time on my back than anything,” you noted, red faced as you dragged the heavy saddle out for Aries to see. He neighed and you slowly put on his blanket first. Then the saddle.

“Maybe I won’t be there to wait for him come morning. Make him worry while he hides in the shade another day,” you said, laughing at the stupidity of it. You weren’t going to do that. It’d be suicide. “More likely you’re about to throw me and break my limbs and then after Esidisi is going to laugh at me for being stupid, Wamuu will carry me around like a wounded bird and Kars will mope around sneering about what a stupid, fragile human he picked up,” you said out loud, taking a deep breath and using your hamon to boost your strength as you hoisted yourself onto his back.

“So far so good…” you whispered, stroking his neck. “I wonder where they are right now. The capital, or some port city, no doubt. You know I’ve never seen the ocean before, have you?” you mused, daring to spur him into a trot with a light squeeze of your calves. You had no reigns. He’d snapped and backed away when you only just approached with a headpiece, so that was out of the question. You’d ridden an old little pony without reigns as a child, though this hardly compared. “The ocean is less than twenty miles away. You could make that in a day, couldn’t you, Aries? Or a night… We’d ride past the capital too. We could search for lord Kars’ dumb stone,” you said, steering him through the desolate streets of your hometown with light kicks and tugs on his mane.

You really weren’t dressed for riding, but you had some proper riding clothes in your old home. You wouldn’t be back before sunrise, if you made it at all, and you had never traveled this far outside your village before. It was madness, but a heady mixture of fear and spite was urging you on.

You already had that cursed ring that promised you a swift ending. Why should you spend thirty days as a plaything if Kars wouldn’t commit to sparing you now?

You were already putting on your hardiest clothes over the more delicate ones you had been given and mounting your horse again when you realized you probably wouldn’t have been able to mount Aries in the first place without your hamon. The gift Kars had given you to show his trust and how he never showed the barest hint of anger when you struck him.

He wasn’t mad at you. He was almost forced to face an eternity without you and it distressed him to the point of lashing out.

“Maybe I’ll ask Lord Kars to accompany us to the ocean when he comes home this morning.”

“Good morning,” Kars’ calm voice still startled you and your reaction startled Aries, who stomped and huffed angrily.

“Good morning, lord Kars,” you said, trying to shush the horse. Kars watched you quietly while you calmed the giant you had brought back to the temple.

“You’re quite good at that,” he noted, coming up behind you. You quirked a brow and looked back at him, waiting to see if there was something more to that statement or if it was some kind of joke you didn’t understand. Yesterday he wouldn’t acknowledge an expert kill you made, but now he was complimenting your skills with a horse? “You have a calming air about you. It puts me at ease. Your animal compatriot senses it too. I feel a sense of contentment when you’re near that nothing else brings me,” he explained and you bit your tongue to hold back another snarky remark pointing out he didn’t exactly seem calm last night.

“Please forgive my behavior last night. I meant no offense by my words and I realize your aspirations have now suffered on my behalf. You destroyed your army to keep me safe after one soldier threatened me and your search for the stone-”

“Ssshh, my sun. No sacrifice is too great for you,” he assured you, pulling you close. “The thought of being helpless to protect you while you’re out in the sun vexes me to no end. Tonight I almost lost you when I let my guard down and I could never forgive myself if I… we had lost you forever due to my carelessness…” he explained, enveloping you in the same desperately tight hold that kept you pressed firmly against him while his army was slain. “My frustration was never directed at you… and tonight gave me some time to realize that the only reason you are alive, was because I gave you the freedom to fight back and to keep you as a caged bird at my side would not serve to keep you safe,” he went on, pressing a small vial into your hand. “The antidote.”

You smiled and reached back, carding your fingers through his hair. Gods, it was beautiful enough to make you jealous.

“Thank you for trusting me, master. I shall keep it with me, until you find the stone,” you said. He exhaled sharply, taking the hand that was combing through his hair and kissing it.

“Let me take you to bed, beloved. I cannot wait any longer,” he breathed.

“Let me take care of Aries. The sun is almost up. I shall join you shortly,” you said, releasing a rather undignified noise when you were picked up and thrown over his shoulder instead.

“Wamuu, tend to our beloved’s new pet,” he ordered. You saw Wamuu appear from the shadows in the pale of dawn, smiling at you and his master, then full on grinning at Aries.

“You have chosen a magnificent steed, dear (Y/N)! I shall be glad to assist in its care,” he announced. “I am also glad to see you and lord Kars have reconciled.”

“Ah, wait! He can be quite violent, but he’s good to me. Don’t hurt him!” you called out as you were carried away.

“Is she talking about Wamuu?” Esidisi asked, only just arriving as you were carried past him.

“She is talking about a horse she brought back. Get inside, Esidisi,” Kars answered, walking faster when Esidisi snorted a laugh.

“I have not seen you retreat to your sleeping quarters with such urgency in millennia, dear Kars,” he called after you two.

You were thrown onto his bed again. It had to be his, because it was so soft and also you bounced twice without falling off the other side.

“How dare you wear so many clothes?” he asked. Now you were not familiar with their language in the least, but you were fairly confident this roughly translated into: “You have until I am on top of you to get those clothes off and whatever is still on you is getting shredded.”

“I needed something to wear when riding Aries,” you explained, getting your old clothes off, as well as the silk bottoms of the two piece attire he’d gifted you, which you were still wearing underneath. You could sense some movement a little ways away from you, then a bright rain of sparks as Kars dragged some kind of blade against the stone of a fireplace, lighting a fire inside that grew steadily until you could finally see around the dark room. There was a dragon’s hoard of treasure laid out between the stone fireplace and the bed, glimmering in the dancing light of the fire. On the walls were enormous maps of places you had never even heard of before, some covered with pins and strings, detailing impossibly long journeys. In the corner was a desk that had to be as heavy as your newly acquired warhorse, covered in fine tools, rocks and white sand. No doubt he had been carving more stone masks, but didn’t he have enough of those already? You had a hundred things to ask about every corner of the room, but you were stunned silent and motionless at the most dazzling sight of all.

Kars usually wasn’t very fond of clothes, be it yours or for himself, but for tonight’s occasion even the minimal clothing he usually wore was too much. Bared naked except for his jewelry, he stalked closer to his darling prey on the bed, the smirk on his face telling he knew exactly what your awestruck expression was for.

“Those clothes might suit you for riding Aries, but you’ll have no need for them when riding me,” he purred smoothly, sharp fangs glinting as brightly as the jewelry adorning his regal features while he grinned down at you.

You gripped the soft, black sheets, wanting to touch, but unsure if it was allowed, like hovering by a priceless artwork. You weren’t sure if he meant it, or if he was just teasing you. He always preferred to be in charge with everything. Why would he choose a position that let you take the lead now?

“Y-You wish for me to…” you trailed off, not daring to repeat the phrase. He silenced you with his lips against yours, guiding your hands to comb through his hair and caress his perfectly sculpted form.

“Ride me. Take your pleasure and serve me as your lover and master. Give yourself entirely to me as my bride,” he reaffirmed, he was already hard when he guided one of your hands to stroke him. You were a bit more sure of yourself by now, knowing no amount of strength from you could seriously hurt or injure him. It helped that Kars wasn’t as monstrously thick as Wamuu had been and gripping as firmly as you could without impeding the slide of your fingers on his skin you managed to work your master’s hard cock in a way that made his painted blue eyes flutter shut.

“Yes, lord Kars,” you agreed breathlessly, coaxing him to lie back and let you get on top with just a small push. He looked up at you with a mixture of reverence and cocksure amusement, guiding you into another languid kiss before whispering his next command in your ear.

“I want you to use your mouth on me, beloved. Let me see your pretty, pink lips wrapped around my cock while you choke on it,” he said, his words making your stomach tighten with excitement. For any human men you might have found the act far less appealing, but for Kars you would happily oblige.

Your master’s dick was as unnaturally perfect as the rest of him. It was long, straight, the plump head flushed slightly darker and glistening with a smear of pearly white fluid. Your godly mate lacked all the smelly, hairy and sweaty human traits that might have made this unpleasant, leaving you with only the challenge of how you were going to fit something so massive down your throat as he intended.

You weren’t sure how to go about this, simply doing what felt most natural and awaiting more guidance. Licking up the salty, savoury drops of precum that had gathered at the tip and continuing to stroke his length, it occurred to you this was your first time doing this. Not just sucking him off, but this was the first time servicing one of your husbands. Wamuu and Esidisi had both taken charge and been the ones to pleasure you throughout the nights you spent with them, claiming and treasuring you.

Kars desired you no less than either of your previous lovers and would not be opposed to serving you in any way you liked, but this was what he truly wanted more than anything. To be the one being claimed and treasured and worshipped. Knowing that you desired him enough to take him and obey his every command was intoxicating to him and it showed in his adoring, half-lidded eyes, clouded with lust.

He tangled a hand in your hair and pulled you down, forcing you to take more and more into your mouth, and despite your best efforts, his pushing against your gag reflex on every stroke had you choking and sputtering, struggling not to use your teeth, even if it wouldn’t hurt him.

“Finding it hard to concentrate, my dear morning light?” he asked, licking his lips as he watched you. Even without touching you much more than a few kisses and petting your head, you were starting to get wet, squeezing your thighs together to hold out against your own needs until your master was satisfied. “Your hamon can numb the pain of your muscles stretching beyond their usual limits and restore any damage that might cause. I will make sure you are able to breathe. Stay focussed now, little one,” he ordered, bracing his legs more firmly against the bed and giving you a few seconds to breathe in deep through your nose and try and get your hamon under control before forcing you down all the way to the base of his cock. He moaned heavenly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes to revel in the feel of you. By all accounts this should have hurt, but you felt nothing aside from the slightly uncomfortable pressure of his throbbing length down your throat and the slight sting of him pulling your hair. Clutching his strong thighs for balance, you could feel the faintest tremble to them when you reflexively tried to swallow around the massive intrusion.

“Centuries I thought no creature aside from us could ever be truly perfect… How wrong I was, my beautiful sun… I may be immortal, but it is you who is truly divine…” he praised, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “So good for me, my dear… Hmm, but I did promise to let you breathe, didn’t I?” he mused, letting you come up for air, pulling back to gasp for breath with threads of saliva connecting your pretty mouth to his dick.

“I know it’s a little overwhelming the first time, but you’re doing so well. You’re so wonderful and tight,” he praised, wiping tears of exertion from your cheeks and letting you breathe until you were ready to continue.

With their immortal bodies and stamina, the pace and strength levels humans fucked at were rarely sufficient for your husbands, who preferred to ravish you at their pace. Kars was taking this slow though, savouring the feeling and the sight of you sucking his cock all the way down, shyly meeting his gaze from behind teary lashes between his thighs.

“I’ll have Esidisi teach you properly sometime. You’re so eager to please,” he cooed, stroking your cheek as you tried your best to bob your head and take him down all the way. Honestly if the men from your tribe had even considered this use for hamon, you were sure all women would have been made to master it. Not that you would have cared to do this a second sooner or for anyone else.

The smooth glide of your master’s cock against your tongue, his hands in your hair, the subtle tremor in his voice when he spoke to praise you, all of it only served to drive you mad with want.

“Mhmm, so good to me, my darling,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that sent a spike of arousal straight through you as you were pulled up into another kiss. His cock, slick with your spit, brushed almost teasingly against your warm folds like a whispered promise of the pleasure you had come to crave. Pleasure you knew only your husbands could provide.

“Lord Kars… I can’t wait anymore. Please~?” you pleaded shamefully, grinding against his hard length and feeling it pulse in time with the instinctive rutting of his hips against yours.

“I gave you my permission to serve me, my precious (Y/N). I’m not stopping you now,” he said, gesturing at his flawless body with a smirk. “You will take your pleasure from riding me like the voracious mortal bitch you are. You will worship me with every whimper and cry from your lips. You are mine to cherish and adore until the end of time itself,” he purred, pulling you close and tipping your chin up like he was posing you for some erotic masterpiece.

You swallowed and looked down. You could scarcely imagine getting all of that inside yourself smoothly, let alone riding him the way Esidisi and Wamuu had taken you. Whining about that wouldn’t get either of you off though, so with another deep breath you lined up the head of his cock with your entrance and aided by the new trick you had just learned you dropped back down into his lap in one movement.

You were rewarded with the sight of your master throwing his head back, groaning and squeezing your hips hard enough you’d have bruises with his fingerprints by the end of your rendezvous. Good healing practice, he would likely tell you, though you wouldn’t mind showing them off.

“Perfect… Just perfect for me,” he growled, licking his lips while you adjusted to his size and steadied your breathing. “You are so good to me, my sunshine…” he praised, biting his lip while his hands wandered across your trembling thighs. “Oh, don’t stop now, my darling. I know you have so much more to give me,” he said, edging you on to move already. “Worship me on your knees like the first night you came to me. Ride me like your precious stallion~”

“My stallion isn’t even this big. You must be joking!” you huffed, already bracing yourself on his chest with both hands for support as your legs were shaking. Kars looked surprised for a moment, fighting a smile tugging on his lips and quickly covering his mouth to hide a genuine laugh.

“Cheeky little thing,” he chided, clearly amused and slightly smacking one of your cheeks on his lap in reprimand. Well, lightly for him. It was like a whip strike to you, making you clench down hard on his cock where it was buried deep inside you. “I suppose your inexperience is the price of your innocence. It doesn’t matter when I’ll have eternity to teach you how to serve me properly,” he said, flipping you over and pushing your knees back until they almost touched the sheets.

“A-Ah! I’m sorry! P-Please be gentle with me! I’ll learn to serve you, please!” you cried out, already worried you were in for a punishment far more brutal than a little spanking.

“I gave you power, little one, but you have shown your only rightful place is underneath me. It is too late to beg for mercy now,” he taunted, grinding his massive dick so deep you were seeing stars. “Focus on your breathing now. I won’t repair you once I leave you broken and used. I’ll mold your insides to the shape of my cock and you will remember exactly who you belong to,” he warned.

You’d try. You’d try with all your might, but with Kars’ silver tongue whispering sweet promises in your ear and the head of his cock rubbing so tantalizingly deep inside your dripping pussy, breathing was becoming less and less of a priority.

He picked up the pace gradually, with you fighting to consciously breathe in a way that could keep the god between your legs from completely ruining your tight little cunt and keep you from passing out from the pleasure that had long since overpowered your common sense.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? What a hopeless little whore did I take for a bride. Just aching to be fucked by any one of us, aren’t you?” he asked, his hungry red eyed gaze sweeping over the sight of you taking his cock deep enough he could see it in your stomach. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll fuck you till your body is in ruins and your sweet, broken heart is content,” he groaned, losing himself in your sweet cries and tight heat until he felt your hand on his cheek.

“N-No… Lord Kars~” you whined, the faintest smile painting your lips. There was only one thing you truly desired. One thing, which he could give you that would leave your heart eternally content.

“ Worship me… ”

The words had just barely left your mouth before you could feel your lover seize up, legs pressed all the way back as he bit down harshly on your shoulder and flooded your insides with his release.

Gasping a final breath, you screamed to your lover, the gods and whoever else was left to hear it. Your precious mortal body constricted around him, milking his cock as if demanding more. Maybe he had been right about what you truly craved. What your body craved, at least.

You were exhausted, floating in the fuzzy post-orgasm bliss that would usually lull you to sleep quite quickly, but Kars’ warning rang clear in your mind. You could rest once you were sure he was satisfied.

In the meantime, you were still too exhausted to move, so to be let down and pulled into a hug was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t you know I already do, my love?” he whispered. Your mind was still swimming in a tide of pleasure, making it hard to connect those words to the correct context. “You have served me well. You may rest now,” he said. That was all you needed to let the siren call of sleep pull you under, cuddled up safely in your master’s arms.

You woke up many hours later as the sun was just setting, but Kars had already carried you to the shaded side of the mountain where he was safe. You weren’t quite sure how he’d gotten you there, but you figured there were likely some tunnels in the catacombs you did not know about. You’d have plenty of days to explore at your leisure without vampires there.

Kars leapt swiftly around the steep hillside, and up the steep cliffs of the much larger mountains lining the valley.

“Where are we going?” You asked with a soft yawn, drawing Kars’ attention.

“You’ll see,” your husband told you with a small smile.

“I want to go to the ocean,” you said, only half awake, earning a chuckle.

“Close. But if you want, I can take you there. Just not tonight,” he said. You looked up the mountain you were ascending, growing slightly worried when you saw smoke rising from the top.

“Is this safe?” you asked, clinging to Kars’ shoulders. It was getting colder. These mountain peaks were tipped with snow, even in the summer months, and you were only wrapped in a sheet you recognised from the bedroom you shared.

“You’ll always be safe with me, my dear,” he assured you, slowing to a stop by the source of the smoke. Wait, not smoke, just steam. A small spring on the uninhabited mountain top had been heated to the point of steaming on the freezing summit.

Wamuu and Esidisi were already waiting for you, with Aries in tow. Wamuu had by some miracle tamed him to the point he stood resting peacefully in the shallows, letting your first lover pour water down his back to continue keeping him warm. Esidisi was half asleep, up to his chest in the clear spring water and before you could ask anything else you were unceremoniously thrown in, sheet and all.

You screamed and kicked to get back up, glaring at Kars.

“Never do that again!” you yelled, glad Aries had taken a shine to the wind god, as that obviously startled him.

“If you want to see the ocean, learn to swim,” Kars responded, casually taking off his clothes and jewels and putting up his hair before joining you.

“I can swim. I just don’t appreciate being thrown,” you argued, pouting. “And if the spring is heating up, doesn’t that mean this is a volcano?” you asked worriedly.

“It just means Esidisi is here,” Kars answered, handing you a comb and turning his head, the implication obvious. You wanted to huff and refuse, but no amount of pettiness could make you pass up a chance to play with his hair.

“I don’t like the cold,” Esidisi explained, the water near boiling where he sat a few metres away.

“A cold bath strengthens the spirit,” Wamuu interjected.

“Well you’re welcome to go roll in the snow over there,” his master responded, splashing the younger with a wave of hot water and soaking whatever clothes he was still wearing.

“Can you two stop behaving like children?” Kars asked, when Wamuu used his winds to splash him right back.

“Says the one who can’t be bothered to comb his own hair,” you teased.

“I’ll have you know, this is a privilege and not a chore. If you don’t want to, go play with your pet. Normally we’d have sent vampires to fetch clean water down the mountain, but now circumstances have forced our hands,” he explained.

“Ah, so that’s why,” you murmured, the black silk dancing unconcerned in the warm water around you.

“Don’t blame yourself, dear (Y/N). They would have become food eventually and we can look after ourselves and you,” Esidisi assured you, sitting up and stretching. You were momentarily distracted by watching the water run down his rippling muscles, following a particular drop run from his forearm, down his bicep to the swell of his pecs and a half amused scoff drew your attention back to Kars, who stood up to form a similar display.

“Unless that isn’t what’s distracting you?” he asked, smirking down at you.

“You have my full and undivided attention, my lord…” you said quickly, red faced due to more than just the water’s temperature. Although you couldn’t help but notice he had caught the attention of your other mates as well as yours with his little show.

“As it should be,” he said, letting his hair down and shaking off the excess water that caught in the ends. “The absence of our army is negligible in our day-to-day lives, but will greatly hinder our search for the stone. The last lead we have to go on was that the raw gem was brought down to Rome, where it was cut and sold,” he explained. “I’m not sure if the hamon tribe believed to be in possession of the correct stone, or if they meant to trick us, but our time was wasted chasing a smaller cut of the same gem.”

“They were wiped from existence, save for (Y/N) and her sister’s family. Seems like an awful long way to force a bluff,” Esidisi pointed out.

“What if the rest of the stone has been cut too small?” you asked, worry making your chest feel tight. You could sense your wedding ring still there, though it felt less oppressive now. Not nearly as oppressive as the deadline approaching.

“We interrogated the man who cut the stone. He said every time the light shone directly on it it nearly killed him or destroyed his tools. He cut a large flawless stone from the raw gem and two smaller ones. He did not dare cut them any finer. He sold them for a fortune to a merchant he did not know, as he wanted to be rid of the stones for good. He did not live to enjoy his fortune,” Wamuu answered, stroking Aries’ ears more to calm himself now.

“There is only one Aja that will suit our needs, but since being sold in Rome it could have been taken anywhere,” Kars said.

“The Aja draws attention. Not just for its looks. It’s ability to refract light makes it dangerous. Anyone trying to sell it would garner attention,” Esidisi said.

“If it refracts sunlight, they wouldn’t try to sell it at night. Especially if it got out what you’d done to my tribe,” you reasoned.

“Which is exactly where you come in,” Kars said, cupping your cheek. “You can embrace the light of day. You are human. You can help us search for the stone.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Yes, my masters.”

#kars x reader #kars #kars jojo #pillarmen #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #wamuu x reader #esidisi x reader #chapter 3 #not sfw #reader insert

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colorseeingchick · 4 years

Text

Oh Baby! A Series (Tsukishima x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You and Tsukishima have been together for years- and pranking each other the whole way through. But what happens when one prank on Tsukki turns out to be a prank on you?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, fluff

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: This is my first fic! I hope you guys like it :)

“This was the best you could do? Really?” You watch in horror as Tsukishima Kei, your husband of 5 years, holds the positive pregnancy test in his hand, a smug expression plastered across his face.

Fuck.

“Babe, this is like the oldest trick in the book. I’m pretty offended that you thought that this would fool me, of all things.” He shakes his head slowly and puts the test back in the bathroom drawer where you (thought you) had hidden it away from his sight.

You stand there, processing the scenario as it had just played out before you. But that clearly wasn’t enough to sort out how genuinely screwed (ha pun intended) you were.

How exactly did you end up here again?

Tsukki had been pranking and roasting you for 12 years now- 1 year as your classmate, 1 year as your friend, 5 years as your boyfriend, and 5 as your husband. Yeah, your high school sweetheart was this sarcastic four-eyes. You were simple to read and gave theatrical reactions which perpetually egged him on to keep messing with you, and eventually led to him developing feelings for you. Despite how annoyed you were by him at first as well, you soon found yourself loving his quick wit and taunting personality. Though the roasts were intense, the pranks were always light. Tsukki made an effort to never push serious or sensitive topics, and he would NEVER try to pull anything when you were in a bad mood. The pranks went both ways as well- and you never felt more accomplished than when you managed to catch your clever boyfriend off guard. Teasing was a staple of your relationship and both of you loved it. But the jokes sometimes had you both a bit too on guard. When Tsukki proposed to you, you thought he was just pulling a more elaborate prank than usual (which led to you initially rejecting him AND causing a hell of a lot of confusion/fear/panic for Tsukishima...until the jokes were clearly set aside. At that point you JOYOUSLY accepted the ring from him, but that’s a story for another day). Looking back on it, you always loved lecturing him on how it was his fault for always playing tricks on you, and that he can’t blame you for not believing him right away.

But OH! How the tables have turned.

5 years into your marriage, and the pranks haven’t gone anywhere. However, Tsukki made a “New Years Resolution” to make fun of you more than he had in previous years [Read: Tsukki thinks New Years Resolutions are FAKE NEWS and has made a dumb one to mock the concept]. But considering it was meant to be a parody, he was pretty doing a damn good job of teasing you more than you had ever experienced. Your favorite mug *magically* ended up in the highest cabinet possible on a frequent basis, pieces of your strawberry shortcake would disappear soon after being frosted, and there were plenty of jump scares (which Tsukki went through the effort of recording every time). By the time March rolled around, you were VERY riled up (mind you, at no point had you ever actually attempted to tell Tsukki to stop) and promised Tsukki that you were going to pull the GREATEST prank in the history of your relationship as your grand move of revenge. You made an effort to remind him on a daily basis after that point, and both of your competitive natures came out.

It was about three weeks after your initial declaration of revenge that you realized your period was quite overdue and morning sickness was setting in. You logically decided to take a pregnancy test. Low and behold, the test came back positive!

You had known that Tsukishima was ready for children for quite some time now, honestly. He had mentioned it a few times, but you hadn’t felt ready or prepared to be a mom just yet. The man could read you like a book, so seeing distress or discomfort come up when he mentioned it- he would never want to make you feel pressured to have a baby. But after seeing the test, thinking about it (for a good while), and reflecting on your relationship and where you were in life, you felt like you were properly ready to be a mom. All that was left was for you to tell the dad-to-be. But seeing as you two were in a pranking WAR, you figured the timing wasn’t quite ideal just yet. Which is why you decided to hide the test and tell him after April 1st, as to prevent him from assuming you were pulling your grand prank with the pregnancy test.

Never did you expect him to FIND the test on April Fools itself. If he had found it the days before, it would have been better than him finding it today. The one event you were trying to avoid was the only event to occur. As of right now, the world is playing a big prank on you. Though you definitely weren’t laughing.

And I was ACTUALLY going to do the prank today, too! Ughh. You slide down your bathroom wall, contemplating where to even go with this. You could go through with your real prank, but at this point it felt excessively stupid in comparison to everything else going on. Right now, the priority was telling Tsukki the truth. You get up and rush downstairs, to where Tsukki was sitting on the couch, book in hand.

“Kei, we need to talk.” You plop down next to him, casually placing one of your legs on top of his lap.

He closes the book and tosses you one of his classic smirks, side eye and all. “Yes, Y/N?”

“Kei... I’m…” You grab his hand, “I’m actually pregnant.”

He stares into your eyes, expression neutral. Meanwhile, your eyes dig daggers into him, as to say “I’m being DEAD serious you have to believe me or else.”

He blinks a couple of times, smiles, and then raises the hand you put on top of his, sweetly kissing right below your knuckles.

“I commend you for trying to rescue your prank, but you’re not gonna fool me like that.” He squeezes your hand before getting up and walking away to the kitchen, leaving you in absolute shock on the couch. He doesn’t believe me. Not even a little bit.

Fuck.

As the day goes on, you get more and more desperate to try and convince him of how you actually were now carrying his baby. And the more you try, the more he rejects the idea. Your last ditch effort is during dinner, when you make pancakes (breakfast for dinner was a Saturday specialty for you two) and you spell out “I have your CHILD” with chocolate chips on top of his stack.

“You realize how out of context, this could be read a VERY different way, right?” He would have been fed up with how persistent you were being, if it wasn’t for how creative you were being about it. So instead, he was just thoroughly amused.

You, on the other hand, are far from amused. Desperate, hopeless, and VERY irritated at the blond beanpole you called your husband, you aggressively stab your pancakes and eat in silence.

I definitely set myself up for this, I’m not gonna lie.

But there is only one way out, and that’s with fresh evidence. Right after finishing dinner, you leave the house and head to your local shop without saying a word to Tsukki.

...She’s really sticking to it huh. Does she know that this isn’t as funny as she thinks it is? He thinks to himself as he sips on some warm milk while listening to some music and reading on the couch.

[Trust me Tsukki. She doesn’t think this is funny at all.]

Though you weren’t at the store for all that long, your husband managed to pass out on the couch (the milk made him sleepy). You sigh, shaking him into slight consciousness and dragging him up the stairs to your bedroom. As you push him onto the bed, he grabs your waist and tries to pull you onto him. He manages to get you close to his chest, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, mostly asleep and searching for cuddles. For how irritating, snarky, and teasing your husband was, he was awfully affectionate and overwhelmingly sweet in moments like these.

“Not yet, baby,” you whisper to his unconscious head, pulling his glasses off his face. “I have to prove how much of an idiot you are for not believing me. Then you get cuddles.” You wriggle yourself out of his grasp and head to the bathroom, taking another test to confirm what you already knew to be true.

Sighing upon the sight of the two lines, you place this test in the drawer with the other one. “I’ll show him tomorrow when he’s awake and ready to face my wrath.” You smile mischievously while shutting the drawer.

You take care of some unfinished business in your house as it slowly hits 1 am. Exhausted, you eventually find yourself crawling into bed and under Tsukki’s arms, nuzzling into his chest as his arms instinctively encase you, your face tucking into the crook of his neck.

How badly you wanted to stay upset at him. But it felt virtually impossible when he showered you with so much love. Being wrapped up in the warmth of his arms quickly helped you drift off to sleep.

---

You stirred back into consciousness at around 7 am,when the warmth that had wrapped around your body had disappeared, your husband not in sight. He usually woke up early on weekends to go run, so his absence wasn't surprising. Too groggy to worry or think straight, you instinctively get out of bed to go use the restroom as nausea shifts your stomach. However, when you approach the door frame of your master bathroom, you see Tsukki staring into the drawer, looking stiff as a statue. His face hidden, you could tell he’s deeply lost in thought.

“Kei?” You ask softly, “ Love, is everything alri-”

He twists his body to face you, an unreadable expression adorning his strong and normally smug features. It scared you a little.

“...Kei?”

He reveals the two tests in his hands as he strides towards you, holding them directly in front of your line of sight.

“Y/N, all jokes aside. Okay?”

You had a strong indication as to where this was going. “Okay.”

“Are you really pregnant?”

You paused for a second. Although the answer to the question was easy, there was a sudden fear that rose in your stomach upon hearing his tone. What if he was in denial because he didn’t want the baby? Would he be angry if he found out you were serious? But you were almost certain he would be as excited as you for the baby.

Your pause of insecurity was accompanied by a blank expression that had Tsukki’s anticipation skyrocketing. He really wasn’t one to overthink. Thinking just the right amount was his specialty. He’s a rational guy. But you always managed to push that a little, and became the exception.

“Y/N??” His hands grab your shoulders with a slight squeeze.

You jump back into reality as he calls your name. No matter what his reaction was, he would need to know the truth. You could do damage control after.

“Yes. I really am pregnant, Kei. But if you don’t think we’re rea-”

“Is it mine?”

At this, you got pissed real fast.

“The hell? Of course it’s yours, who else’s kid would it be what the hell do you thi-”

He engulfs you in a tight, crushing hug, pulling you against him entirely with his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He lets out a shaky breath as he sways you side to side in his embrace.

“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna be a dad.” Relief radiates off of him, and you could feel a genuine and innocent smile pressed against your skin.

Now you felt like an idiot for even worrying about telling him the truth.

You gently pull away from his body to look him in the eyes, his arms still draped around you. “Kei, why didn’t you believe me when I told you yesterday?”

He looked away from you, eyes on the ground. “Whenever I tried to bring it up in the past, you seemed uncomfortable, and you’ve told me before that you aren’t sure if you were ready to be a mom… I thought that I was the only one who wanted a baby... So when you promised a grand prank for days on end, and I found a positive pregnancy test... I just assumed it was an intense prank and didn’t wanna get my hopes up.” Despite everything, Tsukki had never been the best at direct confrontation. You both were advocates of clear communication and drawing lines, yes, but sometimes, for your sake, he tried to accommodate. It warmed your heart and broke it at the same time to see him all soft and vulnerable, compared to his usual tough guy act.

“Baka.” You pulled his face down to yours so your foreheads touched, his eyes having no option but to lock with yours. “I would never lie about something like this. We’ve always been good about keeping serious stuff serious, yeah?”

He murmured in agreement as he slowly closed his eyes.

You giggle. “You know me too well, though. For a long time I didn’t think I was ready. Even when I took the first test I had doubt in myself. But I thought about everything and… I think I’m ready to have this baby. If it's with you then, yeah. I’m ready.”

He opens his eyes again just to stare at you for a long moment before saying, “You’re gonna be as weird a mom as you are a wife.”

You smack his arm and scowl at him. He breaks out and laughs, “Don’t worry, our baby will probably be as weird as you, so it will be great.” Your scowl deepened. It’s his turn to grab your face and kiss your nose, staring at you with all the love in the world. “It's because you’re so weird that I love you so much. Who else would be able to throw back what I dish out AND amuse me at the same time?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

You sigh, effectively flustered by his wacky compliment. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” His infamous smirk makes a reappearance and damn, are you a sucker for that smirk.

“But-” you continue, “we really have set some ground rules from here on out. I thought your proposal would be the greatest mix-up in our relationship, but this is too close of a second.”

“Agreed.”

“And throughout this pregnancy you sure as hell better lay off on the teasing and pranks because I swear I will-”

“I promise. I’ll be nice to you while you’re carrying our baby. I know- how absolutely uncharacteristic of me.”

You roll your eyes, a smile sneaking onto your face. “Be careful, I might get used to it.”

He rolls his eyes back, smiling as well. “So, truce?”

“Truce.”

He finally pulls away from you and walks as to exit your bedroom. “We’ll talk more about this later, I’m gonna go on my run for now. Do you know where my water bottle is by the way?”

You lean against the door frame once again. “It should be in the office.”

“Alright, I’ll let you know when I get back.”

You smiled to yourself, your stomach bubbling from nausea, yes, but also from happiness. How did you get so lucky with such a snarky beanpole? You had yet to figure it out.

“OI Y/N!” You broke out of your thoughts again as Tsukki sprints up the stairs and essentially throws himself into your bedroom.

“Yes?”

His face is completely awestruck, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief.

“You wanna tell me why there are dinosaur stickers covering literally everything in my office?”

A mischievous grin slowly crawls across your face.

His desk, chair, lamp, laptop, printer, and walls were plastered with dinosaur stickers. A flag with a dinosaur was hung behind his desk as well. (The visit to the shop the night before was the last of 5 trips you had made- you had gone to all sorts of stores to find jumbo stickers over the course of the past few weeks, because Tsukki would have seen packages if you ordered stickers online).

“You couldn’t even spare my water bottle?” He lifts it, as to express his exasperation.

The water bottle looked excessively stupid, as its usual blue service was covered with green baby dinos.

“What happened to the truce?” He asks, still shocked.

“I told you I would get my revenge.” The sass and pride was tangible in your voice.

“Happy belated April Fool’s, Kei.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu oneshot #haikyu fluff #tsukishima kei #tsukki #tsukishima x reader #haikyu imagines #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima oneshot #tsukishima kei x reader #Oh baby! A series #Colorseeingchick writes

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