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#though—not so fun fact—did you know that the more recent strains can come with rather excruciating shooting pains down your tibia
lilflowerpot · 2 years
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Hey flowerpot! Just wanted to check in on you and see how your doing. This week has definitely been a little miserable what with a fever and all, and while it sucked, I had a lot of fun going rereading some of your work! Hope your happy and well (╹◡╹)♡
I have every sympathy for you my love; unfortunately, after a solid three years of eluding 'rona,,, she finally got me 😔
Before any of you sweet anxious creatures start to fret, I'm alright! General flu symptoms that very much remind me of when I caught swine flu as a kid (rip) but I'm all up to date on my vaccines so my body seems to be fighting it off well enough!
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s-brant · 3 years
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The Endless Summer (2/?)
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(gif: @beccs) (PART ONE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)
Summary: A day out on the water goes awry and puts JJ, John B, and Y/N in danger. With tensions rising and the stakes higher than ever, JJ finds it difficult to control his feelings.
Word Count: 9.1k
Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, graphic violence, and JJ being an emotionally confused asshat.
A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for the love on this series, I’m so glad you guys like it and I hope this part is just as good. Things get a little heated in this chapter, so buckle up. Let me know if you enjoyed this. Have fun!
JJ isn't sure why she did it.
He wasn't sure then and he isn't sure now, but he knows one thing for certain: there isn't any going back to how things once were now that the barrier between them came crashing down.
Sweat drips off of his skin from the relentless heat of the Caribbean that has made their recent lives hell with the painful tinge of sunburn atop their tans and heat exhaustion they must be careful to avoid at all costs. They were educated on both topics by Pope, their godsend of a survival encyclopedia in human form, who advised them to spend most of their day outside of necessary tasks like fishing and constructing stable shelter under the shady cover of the treetops.
The sole reason he and John B aren't hiding in the safety of the shade is that it's their day to fish, but he's not thinking about the sun. In fact, neither of them is. They're both wondering where their third fishing buddy is.
It took roughly ten minutes of spearfishing with him in comfortable silence for JJ to finally break and spill his guts about what happened last night. Though there was an unspoken agreement to never tell anyone that their hatred has turned into desire, he couldn't help it. He was going mad trying to unravel it in his head.
After all, he already had a conversation with JB about the recent shift in their behavior with each other by the ocean last night, so it seems fitting to pick up where they left off with the calm and clear blue water in front of them again.
He walks on the jagged outcropping of rock that serves as their perch to observe the fish without disturbing the pattern of the current they swim through with John B closely behind.
"One second she's pissed at me, the next she's all over me. It makes no sense. Then, she didn’t say anything to me after it happened," JJ says with his face hardened into a look of concentration at the fish he squints against the sun to aim at, "Not even "Fuck you, Maybank" or one of her weirdly creative threats. She just sat there all night and talked to everyone but me."
His gaze slips away from the water as his chosen fish disappears from sight before he can bother to throw the spear, eyeing up his friend's reaction to the news.
John B doesn't seem that surprised by it, because who else, aside from everyone else in Kildare who knows of their "hatred" for one another, could've seen it coming as much as he did? He considers it for a second, then props his arm up on the handle side of the spear he digs into the rock to lean against.
"I'm pretty sure that means she likes you."
JJ retorts, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."
Why would anyone ignore a person they like? It makes no sense to him. Every time he wanted a person, he'd simply walk over and make it happen. It's never been difficult for him to pursue the people he finds himself attracted to...Well, except for her. For a guy that also ignored her for the rest of the night and pretended their moment in the woods didn't happen, he has some balls of steel to be chastising her for the same things he did.
John B shrugs and says, "I'm being serious, dude. Sarah wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I worked on the Druthers, and I thought it was some stuck-up rich person thing but it wasn't."
They shouldn't be talking at all right now as to not scare away the fish, but they do it anyway. They both know he won't let it go until it's out of his system for good. He wouldn't allow himself to forget it if he wanted to, so its better to talk it out than turn stir crazy from ruminating over it 24/7.
Though it's, as he worded it yesterday, hot as balls out, being by the sea lessens the feeling of it by a landslide.
The breeze they crave whenever they work on their huts or forage through the forest for wild berries, coconuts, or potential building supplies blows on them without pause for the time they spend here, which almost makes it more dangerous. They stand under the direct harm of the UV rays frying them without truly feeling it burn yet, and he dreads the next few days in anticipation of the returning sunburn he just peeled off of his shoulders the other day.
JJ walks down the side to get a better view of the water, balancing precariously on the sharpened edge with the spear clenched tightly in one hand. The breeze is strong enough to threaten his balance, but he holds firm and digs his toes into the sedimentary rock for traction. His body sways in the midday sun with the struggle for stability, or, at least he suspects its midday.
Since being stranded here, time is a foreign concept to them. With no phones, clocks, or any guide to go off of other that the position of the sun above to display the hours that pass, they've lost complete track of what day it is, let alone how long minutes or hours truly are in comparison to the endless summer they live within. They suspect it's been a month since they were left here, but, in all honesty, it could be two. None of them had the sense to mark the days in a tally until it was too late.
He says, lifting his arm to throw the spear, "Well, she is a stuck up rich person, so maybe it's just—"
"You know I'm right here, don't you?"
The sound of her voice from a few feet behind them startles JJ into turning around to look at her right when he lets go of the spear.
Unfortunately for him, the jerking movement throws off his carefully distributed weight and skews his balance, making the feet placed on the edge slip from underneath him and send him slipping down into the water. His calf is the first body part to hit the rocks, and the groan of pain he lets out at the feeling of the jagged rock slicing through his skin could make her heart stop mid-beat. But what truly scares her is seeing the back of his head hit the ground too.
Before he can slide the rest of the way into the water, two pairs of hands are grabbing onto his arms and heaving him up with all of their strength. She and John B grit their teeth with the effort it takes to pull him back up, their muscles burning from the strain, and once his feet are over the ledge, he pushes off the rock to help them the rest of the way. Drops of his blood disperse into the water off the edge from where he cut himself, dripping until there's hardly any left.
Once he's safely laid back down a few feet from where he slipped, Y/N is kneeling in front of him in a matter of seconds. The rock beneath her knees opens small cuts into her skin, but she doesn't pay it any heed. She sits on her heels to lessen the minor pain and lean forward to inspect the damage he took with nothing on her mind other than worry.
Soon enough, John B joins her to kneel at his feet as he sits up and watches them eye up his injury as though it’s some sort of ghastly, life threatening thing instead of a gash that won't need stitches. He watches them against the glittering ocean, waves washing up on the rocks around them to sting his wound with saltwater.
"It's a scratch, not an amputation," JJ says.
She ignores him with a frown lining her pretty features and twists his leg by the ankle to get a better view of the wound in the sunlight. It extends up the entire length of his calf, almost from ankle to knee, and dribbles fresh blood onto her hands as well as the ground beneath them. From what he can tell, it doesn't look all too severe. No muscle or bone can be seen, so it's a simple, superficial scratch.
When he doesn't get a response from either her or John B while they're too busy checking out his leg, he says again, "Guys, I'm serious, it's fine."
This time, she doesn't hesitate to answer.
"Yeah, well you may not need stitches but you still have infection to worry about. This wilderness isn't exactly the cleanliest place," she says retorts with as much snark as usual, and he quietly rejoices in the fact that she's finally acting normal after what happened last night, "Not to mention, you hit your head pretty hard. There's no need to act all tough."
He shrugs.
"It's not an act, it really doesn't hurt that bad."
John B stands and smears the blood on his hands off on the front of his shorts.
"I'll be right back, guys, I'm gonna go get stuff to patch him up."
Just like that, they are left plunging into silence as he is running away down the peninsula back to the beach they've claimed as their own.
Silence has always been her least favorite thing to share with JJ. She'd rather anything over it—screaming, fighting, joking, friendly conversation, or even what they did together yesterday night. Anything is preferable over the tense and insufferable feeling of silence when they're alone together with none of their friends, or their playful hatred, between them as a barrier between them.
Instead of seeing the same pestering jerk she always used to when she looks at him, she sees the memory of how he looked at her in the woods. He didn't look at her like she was the worst person to ever walk the planet, or like she was his least favorite Kook "Princess", he looked at her like she meant something to him.
They sit together in uncomfortable silence in the time it takes John B to rush to the beach and back, careful not to slip on the rocks the way JJ did, with the supplies from the dinghy in his arms. It isn't much to work with, but at least it's something to keep the nasty wound on his leg protected from dirt and germs. She's sure he'd leave it uncovered and up to fate if he had it his way.
Before he can set them down on the wet rocks, thus ruining the gauze and bandages in craters filled with ocean water, she gestures at JJ with a stern command, "Take off your shirt."
His brows raise.
"Shit, Princess, take me out to dinner first."
She groans in frustration, "Can you be quiet for a second and actually listen to me for once?"
He catches John B's gaze with wide eyes, but complies nonetheless, reaching down to tug the tank off of his torso by the frayed hem until it's balled up in his closed fist to hand off to her. Her eyes only linger on his body for a quick second on accident before snatching it from him.
Her bloodstained palms lay the shirt out on the flattest stretch of rock she can find to act as a barrier from the small puddles of water to protect the supplies. One nod at John B has him setting them down atop the navy fabric as she glances up at JJ with a smug smile.
"Believe it or not," she taunts, unscrewing the cap to the disinfectant, "I didn't ask for it so you could sit there and look pretty."
The words throw him back in time to their conversation on the beach while they thatched the roof to their hut, and he wonders how long she's been waiting to throw that back in his face since he first said it.
He grins at her as he asks, "You think I'm pretty?" but before he can say more, she's pouring a generous amount of the hydrogen peroxide along the length of his cut without a warning for him to prepare himself. His leg jerks away on instinct to save himself from the burning sensation, but she grips his ankle tightly enough to force him to stay still.
His nose scrunches up with the urge to groan in pain, and he does a little. Through grinding teeth, he winces in response to the peroxide slipping into every cell of open skin and bubbling up like the white water of the waves as it kills the bacteria lingering in the gash.
"Does it hurt now?" Y/N asks.
She's looking up at him through her lashes with her lips curled into a smirk as she packs gauze onto the wound until it's covered to her satisfaction. And it should be the last thing he's thinking about right now after cutting up his leg and hitting his head hard enough to worry her about concussions, but he can't help it. Looking down at her like this, it's impossible for him to not think about the unfinished business they have.
Everything is the same as it was yesterday—the tattered white top, the red panties in place of a bikini, sunburnt cheeks, and a taunting look that he'll never get tired of seeing. But that's precisely why he's reminded of it. She's wearing the same clothes and looking at him the way she did on the beach before any of last night's antics occurred, and he can't keep himself from wondering if it'll happen again.
"Yeah," he finally responds.
Her smirk grows for a second before she gets back to work.
"Good."
JJ subtly eyes her up from where she shifts on her knees to set the open gauze wrappers under the peroxide bottle in exchange for the bandage wrap, but he isn't as subtle as he thinks. She can feel his stare no matter how sneaky he attempts to be. He may be able to evade John B's attention, since he dove into the ocean to retrieve the wooden spear that began to float out in the tide, but she never misses a thing. Not when it comes to him.
When he looks at her, he finds memories.
Her legs folded up beneath her bring him back to how smooth they felt on his palms when he lifted them up around his hips. Her rosy lips pressing into a line in concentration bring him back to the coconut flavor he tasted on them. Her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt bring him back to when he lifted it up over her breasts to suck at the sensitive skin until he got a moan from her—There isn't a place he can stare without going back to last night.
Part of him hates that.
He can't stand that a girl who he spent the last five years hating has found a way into his daydreams. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Why did she have to lure him into her trap? He supposes there's nothing he can do about it now, though. After hours of stewing over it, he's reached the conclusion that it was likely a one-time thing, a mistake made in the heat of the moment that she won't make again, and he should get the idea of it out of his head.
When she has to adjust her grip to hold the gauze in place while she wraps the bandage around his leg, he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and jerks away again. She glances up at him with her best, "Are you kidding me?" face. Didn't he say he was tough?
"I'm starting to think you're a sadist, 'cause it's like you're trying to make it hurt," he says.
She gasps, feigning offense.
"Me? Enjoying this? It's not like we've hated each other for years or anything."
And though he may not realize it, this is her way of distracting him from the pain of having her apply added pressure to his cut while she wraps the bandage into place. It has to be tight enough to keep water and sand out, but not so tight that it cuts off circulation, and while it may have been tolerable without her touching it, the contact is enough to make it worse for him.
He asks, "Uh, speaking of, why are you the one doing this? Isn't it some kind of HIPAA thing to treat patients you've threatened to violate with tree branches before?"
The sound of her laughter makes his stomach flutter with butterflies, and he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.
"That's not what HIPAA is, genius"—her eyes crinkle at the sides with her wide smile while she wraps his leg—"and I'm the one doing this because I know way more medical shit than the rest of you."
Even Pope.
"Ohhh right, I forgot. Your dad is this hotshot surgeon and that makes you think you know everything," he taunts.
The casual mention of her father makes her chest ache with something not many of the Pogues, excluding Pope, have felt since being stranded on this island. With their parents either disowning them, absent, abusive, or dead, they have no reason to resist the allure of living here for the months or years it may take to be rescued, but she does.
She misses him.
For the longest time since her mom died, it was her and her dad versus the world. In everything they did, they did it together, and before she met Sarah, he was the closest she had to a best friend. Since they had no other family to help watch her as a child, she grew up in the hospital with him, drawing with crayons on his office’s printer paper with her babysitter and picking up small things along the way from watching him for so long.
He could've chosen to leave her at home, sure, but he didn't want to miss out on seeing her more than he already did, so she spent the majority of her childhood in offices, waiting rooms, and the indoor playground of the PEDs wing.
She takes a deep breath to steady herself after the sucker punch of being reminded of her dad and says, "Well, I know enough and, thankfully for you, I'm the one doing this instead of John B."
From far away, twenty or so feet offshore where their friend is paddling through the water with the lost spear held in one hand, they hear John B shouting an offended, "I heard that!" back at her. It draws a soft chuckle from them both, and she silently thanks him for distracting JJ one last time as she finishes and secures the bandage so it won't unravel.
She wipes her hands off on her water-soaked thighs one more time to get as much of his blood off of her fingers as possible before she reaches out with both arms extended to offer him help to stand. He takes them with a murmured, "Thanks," as they both try not to show how affected they are by the casual touch.
It makes them feel pathetic that something as small as holding each other's hands makes them remember what they did and desperately wish to continue it. Her throat bobs with how she must swallow the lump in her throat at their close proximity, barely breathing now that he's standing close to her with less than a few inches between them.
For a second, they don't move away. They stay face to face, and all she can think of is how badly she wants to kiss him again. But she can't do anything yet, not when she hears someone screaming from the water.
"There's a shark!" John B screams as he paddles back faster than he's ever swam in his life, already close enough to the peninsula that they can see the terror in his eyes when they turn to look.
Surely enough, there a tip of a fin too pointed to pass off as a dolphin cutting through the surface of the water to alert them of the fish's presence, but if that weren't enough, the water is clear enough for them to see its outline.
Thankfully for him, it isn't huge. It looks about as long as he is tall, but that doesn't change the degree of danger. Just because it isn't as big as other sharks doesn't make a bite any less lethal, especially when their only form of medical attention rests on her knowledgeable yet inexperienced shoulders.
For once in his life, JJ is frozen with no clue of what to do.
He's always the man with the plan, the one who jumps into action when others choke up and sit on the sidelines, but this makes him falter. What can he do to help other than stand here and pray John B can out-swim a shark? He's helpless, and now that he's faced with the prospect of losing his best friend for a second time, he doesn't know what to do.
It was his blood in the water that must have attracted the shark, and he was so caught up in his own drama with her and the pain of his cut that he didn't consider the danger of John B jumping in to retrieve the spear he dropped. It's his fault. His best friend is about to be eaten by a shark and it's his fault—
The blurred image of her rushing past in his peripheral vision rips him from his stormy thoughts, and right when he thought it couldn't get worse, it does. Water splashes up around her body and swallows her under the surface after she leaps off the edge of the rock with the aluminum spear from the dinghy raised in her dominant arm.
"Y/N!"
Before he even realizes what he's doing, JJ is screaming out her name, screaming it like he cares, and damns the consequences to dive in after her.
While he was frozen, she sprung into action without thinking of her own life first. She knew he was close to the rock, but not close enough to swim faster than a predator designed for the conditions of the ocean. It took one glance at the spear resting to the side for her to lean down, scoop it up, and get a running start to jump out as far as humanly possible. Various joints and muscles ached from how she strained to push herself far off the rock, taking flight with nothing but their survival in mind.
She sucks in a heaving breath upon breaking the surface, but she doesn't take a second to pause with John B paddling up to her so soon.
"Go back!"
The only answer she gives him is, "Use your spear!" before she brings hers out of the water in anticipation of the grey figure bolting straight for them.
It's a stupid plan, but it's the only one she has, and if one of them is in danger, they'd all risk everything they have to protect them. After all, they're already trapped here with the threat of death every day. Is there anything more worthy of dying for than your friends?
Neither of them is necessarily trying to kill it yet either, they're trying to keep it at a safe distance or hurt it enough so it swims away from them, but she puts all of her strength into spearing the fish between the eyes anyway. Her legs kick tirelessly to keep her afloat while she and John B stab as accurately as they can, choking down a mouthful of salty ocean water from how her head sinks at the surface without the help of her arms to keep her up.
Blood stains the water with a crimson hue spreading out around their bodies—whether it's theirs or the shark's, she doesn't know—and she must keep her lips clamped shut to prevent it from spilling into her mouth, breathing solely through her nose. She can tell her legs are soon to give out on her, but then a pair of hands latch onto her body. Call her irrational or stupid, but even with the clear distinction of human hands on her waist, her mind reacts in instinctual fear.
The touch makes her jolt mid-stab and sobers her feral mind back to reality for a moment until she realizes it's a human touching her, not the shark.
It's JJ.
His arms wrap around her thighs and hoist her up out of the water as much as he can while still swimming, effectively pushing himself underwater with one last gasp for air.
The sudden shift in view has her gaze shifting around to take in the new sights with a gush of red water rushing off of her onto the splashing surface: a light grey tail whips around in the chaos, the shark's head oozes blood from the multiple puncture wounds that didn't push quite deep enough, and its jaws snap right where John B's arm is before he yanks it back.
After a fraction of a second, it clicks with her that there's no time to waste watching her friend almost get his arm chomped off while she takes in the unbelievable sight. Her slippery grip on the handle remains as firm as possible, and she raises the spear over her head with an improved accuracy she never could've had from where she previously aimed it before. All of their shots landed well enough, but with the height advantage, she won't allow herself to fuck it up this time with her friend's life hanging in the balance.
She hardly recognizes her own frantic voice shouting at him, "Spear it in the gills!"
Her hands bring the razor-sharp tip of the spear down into its head repeatedly, and she isn't sure whether it's the splashing water or tears wetting her face when she buries the weapon down into it for a final time right when John B lodges his wooden spear in its gills.
Whatever she did, it must've hit its brain, because the animal halts its thrashing. Its teeth no longer snap at her friend, nor does its tail whip around in the water as violently as it did a moment ago.
As quickly as it started, it drops off into a sickening calm that leaves the white bubbles dissolving into a puddle of bloody water surrounding the trio and the fish that dies with no small amount of guilt on her part. There was no choice but to kill it. It makes her ache on the inside, but how could she regret it if she knows it saved them? The guilt might ravage her for the upcoming days, but she can't bring herself to regret jumping in after him.
She hardly has the chance to process it before she's being pulled away by both of the boys, her view of the scene shifting drastically once more with the abrupt drop of JJ letting her down in favor of guiding her through the gentle waves. His calloused hand squeezes her arm enough to cut circulation off on their journey back.
Time rushes past her in the next thirty seconds or so it takes them to reach the peninsula again in a paranoid sprint away from where the dead fish floats. One of them, John B she thinks, tosses the aluminum spear he dislodged from the shark's head up onto the rocks and clambers his way back up on his own. The waves closer to land grow rougher than the tender current out where they killed the shark, and she grunts in pain as one sends her and JJ straight into the rocks. His body hits her back with a solid ‘thump’ and forces her to wheeze with the wind getting knocked from her lungs upon impact, nails cracking on the black rock from the desperate grip she uses in an attempt to lift herself.
Meanwhile, JJ can't seem to catch his breath either, nor can he think of anything other than her once he sees that John B isn’t injured.
As soon as he sees his friend is unmarked from the teeth of the shark after he's out of the water, he positions himself behind Y/N to help her out first. He places his hands on her backside to push her up as quickly as he can. Knowing that the carcass in the water will soon attract more sharks in the surrounding area into a feeding frenzy, he'd rather it be him than her. It's a thought that shoots by too fast for him to fully acknowledge the meaning or weight of it at a time like this.
Somehow within his adrenaline-crazed mind, he is careful not to push her onto the jagged edge that sliced his leg open earlier, then climbs after her with little space left between them.
She's coughing up saltwater onto the rocks as he scrambles over to her, eyes wild with the petrifying worry of anything bad happening to her. They scan over her arms, legs, stomach, and back, and he doesn't even realize his hands are reaching out to inspect her as frantically as she had with him when he got hurt.
His hands cup her face, petting over her dripping hair and forcing her to look up so he can see if she somehow got hit in the face. Never has his mind been so void of rational thought, and, knowing him and his impulsive tendencies, that's saying a lot. The confusion of his contradictory feelings for her muddle his mind. Worry and hatred, attraction and anger—they battle it out, but only two manage to reach him externally.
Worry and anger it is. Worry for obvious reasons. Anger because—
"What the fuck were you thinking?"
She has never heard him sound so vicious since the start of whatever odd relationship/friendship/enemy-ship they have. With his worried expression and how he checked her entire body for injury after helping her out of the water, the last thing she would've anticipated from him was anger. Especially not after she saved his best friend's life. Considering what she just did for him, she thinks he should be thanking her, not chastising her.
Behind her back, she can hear a collection of yelling voices and splashing footsteps over the water dripping from them. It can only be the rest of their friends racing up the peninsula to them, but she can't turn around.
She stares at him with utter confusion flooding her at his unexpected outburst. Speechless.
"What was I thinking?" she asks incredulously with her face still cradled between his hands, "I was saving John B's life!"
Their emotional distance and disagreement are made up for in abundance by how physically entangled they've become. It wasn't intentional. It was a result of him needing to get close enough to scour her exposed skin for any bites, but now that they're sitting so near to each other, they forget to back away.
John B is too busy to engage with them.
He's doubled over on the ground with the compulsion to vomit the contents of his stomach into the ocean, but he doesn't dare get close to the edge again after what they went through. Instead, he positions himself away from them and their approaching friends until the half-digested food is forced back through his mouth. The acidic bile scorches his throat and nostrils on the way out.
JJ doesn't have the opportunity to retort back something about her being stupid, because Pope is the first person to reach them and ask, "What the hell happened?"
The rest of the group isn't far behind. It's Kie who asks the next question, then Sarah, then Cleo. They all pop off in rapid succession before either of the three of them can answer.
"Are any of you hurt?"
"Why is he throwing up?"
"Is that a shark?"
The last question draws everyone's attention over to the half-sunken mass of fish bobbing up and down on the breaths of the sea with a wooden spear sticking straight out of its gills. Though it isn't the biggest, most intimidating shark to roam the ocean, its presence doesn't fail to make everyone who looks at it shudder with the realization of what must have happened.
John B wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and points over at her with his trembling arm outstretched.
"She killed it."
The four of them whip their heads in her direction, jaws nearly falling off their faces in disbelief, but she doesn't say anything yet. Because as soon as they feel the eyes of their friends burning into them, she and JJ realize, as though they're returning to reality from the hazy layers of a dreamscape, that they're still holding each other.
She's slumped halfway onto him from when he hauled her body closer to inspect her, so she's essentially sitting on top of him at this point. Her legs, bruised and scratched up from when the waves crested to send them crashing into the rocks, are entangled around his enough that they look back and forth between them and where his hands cup her face in surprise.
JJ doesn't know what came over him.
Now that he snaps out of it at the same time as her, both of them separating and nudging each other away until their bodies are no longer entwined, he feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment.
When he saw her leaping past him to jump into the water, his mind shut off. He wasn't thinking about himself, or the possibility of getting killed, or anything at all. He was only thinking of the danger she put herself in, then he dove in and the rest of his conscious mind faded away into pure survival instinct. Yet, even after he knew the immediate danger was gone, the adrenaline kept him on edge, desperate to get her back to land and pray none of them were hurt.
"It was trying to attack him," she rasps. Her throat is raw from the saltwater she choked on, and every word burns. "But we did it together."
She pushes herself off the ground with an exhausted sigh.
Muscles spent from the struggle in the water, her legs wobble beneath the weight of her upper body as she takes a few steps to help John B up from his position on his hands and knees. From what she heard, he has thrown up all he has left in his stomach and hasn't gagged again in a minute or so, so attempting to stand again shouldn't be too strenuous for him.
His hand is cold in her grasp from the water soaking their bodies, but it holds firmly enough for her to help him into his feet without their palms slipping apart. No patches of blood are visible on his shorts, nor are there any puncture wounds on him from the sharp teeth that snapped at his arm in the quick but vigorous fight.
They were very, very fortunate to have made it out alive, and when he looks down at her face, he feels nothing but gratitude for the girl he previously saw as nothing more than his girlfriend's best friend. They went into the water as casual acquaintances, companions of convenience and the happenstance of being forced onto this island together, but they've come out of it differently. Now, they're friends.
Now, she's a Pogue.
He smiles at her, glancing up at their friends as their questions die down at the sight of his crazy grin, and says, "That was some real Pogue shit right there, Y/N." His eyes come back to meet hers. "I think it's about time we officially make you one of us. What do you think?"
She's opening her mouth to respond when Kiara cuts her off. The rest of them are staring at the trio as if they have ten heads sprouting from their bodies for not immediately surrendering more details of their near-death encounter other than saying she killed it.
"I'm sorry, can we please rewind to the part where you got attacked by a shark first?"
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"Ladies and gentlemen, can I get a drumroll please for..."
The campfire is roaring with the abundance of sticks, leaves, and branches thrown onto the pile to fuel it as she feels a strong pair of arms looping around her thighs to lift her into the expansive, star-flecked sky.
In a flash of haunting memory, she relives the moment where JJ dove into the water after her and lifted her body above the surface to give her the high ground over the shark. She relives its thrashing hunger, the water splashing on her, and the cloudy hue of blood around them that she hoped wasn't either of the boys. For a second, as the world grows taller with her new perspective, she is brought back to the sudden shift she felt then and feels her stomach drop in panic, anticipating the danger.
But then the sound of her friends laughing, as well as the surging fire and crashing waves, comes back to her and forces the frightful flashback away. Her hip fits perfectly in the curve of John B's shoulder, and she lets her head fall back in giggling laughter at how he hoists her up in the air as though she's a holy figure of worship for the Pogues to kneel to.
His voice can likely be heard across the entire island when he shouts, "The Shark Conqueror!"
The group erupts into a triumphant mixture of cheers and laughter that fills the beach, everyone celebrating in their narrow escape earlier today...everyone except JJ.
After John B divulged the gory details of what happened, from JJ's fall to her picking up the spear and jumping in to save him from the shark, they made their way back with enough conversation to last the month. They all asked questions and took peeks back at where it happened in morbid curiosity, wondering how on earth they managed to come out of the situation without a scratch.
The rest of the afternoon continued on with the same buzzing energy that can only be created from the thrill of being alive. She's felt it many times since joining Sarah's group of friends that seem to find trouble wherever they go, but she has never felt it as vehemently as she does tonight. It's a mixture of euphoria, shock, and soul-crushing guilt for having to hurt another living creature, even one that was intending to make a meal of her friend.
No matter how much she grows up or discovers more about herself as a person, feelings never stop being as frustrating as they were to her as a child. You can get better at processing and hindering explosive reactions to them, but they never simplify. She doesn't know why she feels so much at once. She doesn't know why she feels simultaneously on top of the world and thrown off the edge of a cliff, but she thinks it has to do with him.
Since they walked back to the beach and talked about what happened until the day withered into night, which led them here to the “official” ceremony of her being named a Pogue for life, JJ hasn't spoken to her once.
Suddenly, the shoe is on the other foot.
Much like how she avoided him all night last night leading into this morning, he doesn't talk to her. He tries not to look at her too from where he sits on the log of driftwood across the fire, but it's somewhat inevitable with the spectacle John B is making of her at the moment.
Painted in the warm tones of the firelight like a goddess in her own right, Y/N is impossible to look away from, and it makes him angrier than he already is. A handwoven circlet crafted from the hibiscus and hippeastrum flowers growing in the forest around their camp sits atop her head. It doesn't fall to the ground with the movement of her throwing her head back in laughter. It stays in its rightful place against the rule of gravity until her face comes back into view for him to quickly look away from.
It dampers her laughter to see him avoiding her gaze so adamantly, taking a swig of water from one of the small cups they carved from wood and turning to talk to Kie to keep himself busy. The distinct sensation of being on top of the world slips away with the feeling of his cold avoidance and John B lowering her back to the ground until her bare feet sink into the soft sand.
Before she can start sulking about it for the foreseeable future, Sarah steps up beside her.
The familiar touch of a hand on her shoulder brings her comfort amidst her confusion and hurt over the way JJ is acting, and when she turns to see a pretty face looking fondly at her, a warm smile finds her lips.
"Pogue for life?" Sarah asks.
The three words bring make her smile grow the same way it had when she was talking to JJ on the peninsula. It crinkles the skin around her eyes with its unrestrained happiness to hear them because, as much as she pretends to let JJ's comments roll off of her, tonight marks one of the first times she's felt at home with them.
That's not to say they haven't made her feel welcome in the past, they did, but this isn’t the same. This is closer, this is the type of bond that's forged in situations like these where people have no choice but to rely on each other or let their worlds collectively fall apart, and she thinks, for the first time, that she could live here with them forever if she must.
None of them know how much time has passed since they arrived here, least of all her, but it sure as hell feels like an eternity. At first, she could barely withstand the idea of living here for months with the intention of being rescued as soon as possible, but now...
She brings Sarah into an embrace tight enough to force the air from their lungs.
"Pogue for life," she echoes back with her face buried into the salt-scented tresses of dirty blonde hair cascading over her tan shoulders.
Would it be crazy of her to think that this is where they're meant to be? That they're her family and this place she has fantasized about escaping is now their home?
After all, the lush island provides everything they need to sustain themselves with the rationing, scavenging, and hunting routines they adhere themselves to. Freshwater runs down the land in a stream from a water source uphill, plenty of different edible plants grow in the forest, and there's so much left of the expansive land to explore; it's perfect. Everything here is perfect for them, calling out to them to make it their home, but there's one little problem as of right now, and he's sitting across the fire behind her back.
Sarah's arms squeeze around her shoulders once to bring her in even closer.
"Thank you for saving him," her voice is so hushed, Y/N can hardly hear it with her lips brushing the shell of her ear to whisper into it, "I'm not gonna get all mushy with you right now, but I don't know what I would've done if"—Sarah's breath hitches in her throat, and she shakes her head—"I just wanted to thank you."
When they pull apart, Y/N is looking back at her with a knowing expression, one that says everything she can't in the presence of the others, and Sarah can't help but mirror it.
It isn't long before the blonde-haired beauty is whisked away by her boyfriend to help him cook the crabs they caught closer to shore after their encounter with the shark. Not wanting to swim out or risk slipping off the rocks again with the dead fish promising to lure more predators to their area for the next week or so, they settled for hunting for shellfish and making good use of the fruits they find growing in wild abundance in the forest.
The night ticks away in swiftly passing minutes thanks to the humorous company of the people around her.
She nearly chokes on a mouthful of banana as Cleo tells a story from before she met them, when she used to live in Nassau and work jobs with Terence and Stubbs on ships. For such new additions to the group, they both fit surprisingly well with the lifelong childhood friends that sit around and banter with such ease together.
They talk, laugh, dance, and eat together, and there are moments when she feels happier than ever. There are moments exactly like when John B lifted her up and made her giggle at how their friends cheered on her behalf in indulgence of the silly "ceremony" they did, half out of boredom and half out of gratitude for what she did. But then she is reminded of the man sitting on the outskirts of the group with his features hardened into an expression of contemplation she wishes she could decode.
The night breeze feels heavenly on her perpetually overexposed skin. It blows into the fire and allows it to swell from the oxygen supply, crackling and popping embers out every so often like the spark of the zippo lighter JJ fidgets with in his restless hands. The movement attracts her wandering eyes while they should be focused on Cleo and Kie dancing around the fire with boisterous laughter while Sarah and Pope sing for them.
She keeps herself honed in on the opening and closing of the lighter under the guidance of his ring-clad fingers for the next minute or so.
They may have been pitting themselves against each other since they met, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know him well. If anything, the keen attention that her old hatred for him forced her to keep on him made her memorize everything there is to know. And she surely has picked up on the nervous habit of him playing with the lighter whenever he's thinking, whenever there's something crawling under his skin that he can't piece together.
He sits with his back to her, facing out toward the ocean so all she can see is the hand he uses to flick the lighter open and shut with. With a quick glance at the rest of their friends to see if any of them are watching or wanting to speak with her, she pushes herself up from the log and dusts her sandy palms on her shirt.
The tracks of her footsteps lead around the corner of the driftwood he rests against until her feet appear, sunken into the sand in front of him. It takes a lot of control to not allow himself to follow up the length of her body, panning up along her legs until he sees that infuriatingly tenderhearted set of eyes looking down at him.
However, he doesn't have a choice in looking when her hand outstretches in a silent invitation. His first glimpse of her in the last half-hour shows her jerking her chin in the direction of the beach curving around the bend of the island.
This morning, he probably would've taken her up on the offer. He would've done anything to get a few minutes alone with her, but now he can't see past his anger and doesn't know why. He doesn't know why it hasn't calmed yet, but, in truth, it has more to do with him than it does her idiotic yet brave decision to fight off a shark today. Trust him, it still has a lot to do with the idiotic shark thing, but the rest is lost in translation for him.
"Not in the mood," he dismisses her.
Her brows furrow and form a crease between them as she tries to find something to say but comes up with nothing. At least not until it clicks with her what he thought she was trying to do by inviting him to walk with her.
The last time they went off on their own together, it ended in an explosive encounter they have yet to erase from their minds. It's what greets them whenever they close their eyes for a second too long, existing in their wildest daydreams and fantasies whenever they have a spare moment to themselves. Hell, he can't stop thinking about it even when he's already occupied. It was the reason why he didn't catch any fish this morning before the incident that made him pissed at her in the first place. He couldn't stop thinking of her.
"Oh," she murmurs and starts to kneel down until her knees are sinking into the sand the same way she did when patching up his leg. Her eyes peek over his shoulder to ensure the others didn't hear them—"That wasn't what I meant...I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about today. It must have been a lot to process, since he's your best friend and all, and—"
JJ snaps, unable to tolerate it anymore, and stands up from his spot on the sand to move away from her.
"You don't need act all therapist with me, okay? I'm fine, and I don't need you to fix me if that's what you wanted. Today was fine. Everything's fine, so let it go."
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish with a loss for words. For the second time in the span of a minute, she is grasping blindly for something to say in the wake of him shocking her to silence. He's starting to walk past her but she doesn't let him. Her hand shoots out to stop him and holds onto his arm to turn him back despite his rudeness.
Underneath it all, her concern touches him deeply. It shouldn't trigger a reaction like this in him, so why does it? What about today set him off? He hasn't been this genuinely angry with her since before the hunt for the gold began, before she started to blend into their friend group and establish herself as one of them.
"Woah, woah, woah," she says, "I never said that. I thought that you needed someone to talk to. You know, as a friend."
Their friends start to notice their interaction tensing up now. Before, they didn't pick up on her stepping away for a second to check on him. Now, it's impossible to ignore what unfolds hardly six steps from where they watch as slyly as they can. The two of them haven't had a conversation as cold as this one in months, and what he says next takes it to a place that freezes over the connection they made last night and shatters the warm place it held in her heart.
He scoffs.
"We're not friends. If you think you gotta act different 'cause you threw yourself at me last night, don't bother. You hate me and I hate you. That's how it is."
No nicknames, jokes, or anything to act as a buffer, just cruelty. Rejection.
Though they truly were trying to pretend like they weren't paying attention, every single one of their friends stops and stares. A chorus of hushed reactions sound off from across the fire, and the faint sound of Kie muttering, "Oh shit," is the first thing to reach their ears. It's needless to say that none of them could've expected something so callous to come from him, not after what they saw when they ran up to them on the peninsula this morning.
With the way he was holding her then, doting on her and cradling her face between his hands even in the midst of his anger at what she did, they sooner expected the pair to admit they're dating than have a blowout like this.
In the delayed seconds it takes for her to realize what the fuck he just said to her, he watches her face shift from a look of concern to sadness, to flush-faced embarrassment, then finally to anger. Her teeth grind together, nostrils flaring on her inhale, and in one quick moment, she comes to a conclusion within herself.
She reaches up to rip the handmade crown of vibrant flowers off her head with flames to match the camp fire flaring up in her eyes for him. Before she can do anything, he already knows he crossed a line, if not multiple lines. It's evident in everything he sees, from the hurt look on her face to the force with which she shoves the crown into the center of his chest to send him stumbling back a few steps. Just like yesterday, except it couldn't be any more different.
"Fuck. You." She spits the words as though they're venomous, and he almost shrinks away under the intensity of her stare, “Go find somewhere else to sleep tonight, 'cause it sure as hell isn't gonna be with me."
Petals flutter out upon impact against his solid chest and float peacefully to the sand around his feet as he watches her turn on her heels and storm off toward their hut. Though, after what he did and what she said to him as a goodbye, it isn't really theirs anymore, is it? At least not for tonight, tomorrow, or the next day until he finds a way to make her hear him out for an apology.
He stands there, frozen, the entire time he watches her leave. Nothing can move him from the spot, not even Sarah knocking her shoulder against his with a pointed glare on her way past to follow her into the moonlit darkness.
He doesn't even resist the disappointed looks he gets, or the shoulder check from Sarah. This time, he deserves it. He deserves every ounce of their judgment. All she was trying to do was make sure he was okay and he was too consumed in his unreleased frustration from today to see it. And, in a way, he's still frustrated over it, but it's greatly overshadowed by the guilt seeping through him.
The shadowy shapes of the two girls disappear into the small hut further down the beach, and JJ is left with nothing to do but look down at the flower crown clutched to his chest in regret.
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spideyhexx · 3 years
Text
the cookout; b.b. + s. l.
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pairing; bucky barnes + sylvie laufeydottir + female!reader
a/n: umm thank @vineridden for talking to me about this and our shared love of Sylvie and Bucky. I couldn't help myself. Pls reblog/comment/give feedback!
masterlist
summary: Sylvie picks up on you and Bucky thirsting over each other and decides to do something about it...and perhaps involve herself.
NSFW 18+ Minors DNI please!!!
WARNINGS: mom's best friend!sylvie. college aged reader and bucky. dirty talk. threesome. grinding. spitting. soft dom!sylvie. some sub!bucky. some dom!reader. oral (female receiving). fingering. unprotected sex. facial. handjob. spanking. kind of edging. some voyeurism. use of the word "whore"
word count: 4.3k (oops)
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Sizzling grills, water splashing, and the loud chatter erupts from your backyard.
Well, more specifically, your parent’s backyard. It’s not uncommon for them to throw huge cookouts, but this one was big. It’s an anniversary, welcome home, birthday, all the major events tied into one.
You didn’t mind these parties, but part of you wished you could just skip it and stay locked away in your room all day.
It was all good and fun, but the amount of people your parent’s would invite could become quite overwhelming.
One of the only good parts was Bucky. You hadn’t seen him in a couple months, due to the two of you attending different colleges, but that never stopped your frequent texts.
He lived in the house next door, your whole lives spent just a few paces away.
Getting through these parties together almost felt like a tradition. But this time, there was something different in the air.
You did not expect to be hit with a wave of awe as you watched Bucky greet your parents. He was always handsome and perhaps not physically seeing him for a bit made him look better, but shit was he gorgeous. His tight t-shirt was hiding nothing, making the muscles he worked hard on strain more prominently.
And you internally rolled your eyes at his swim trunks that had a cat pattern on them. Seems as though he still loved silly designs.
Your breath catches when he spots you, a grin spreading across his face as he jogs over.
“Flower! God, I’ve missed you,” Bucky says, pulling you right in for a hug. You want to tell him you missed hearing that nickname, but decide against it.
“Missed you too, Buck! Are you ready for a long night?” Bucky smirks at your statement.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you clarify and Bucky still has the smirk on his face. His hands have not left your waist and you wonder if he could tell how much of an effect it has on you.
“I know, just teasin’. Did you hear Sylvie is coming?”
There’s the other good part about these cookouts. Sylvie, a friend of your mom’s.
It was only recently you started to develop a crush on her. With her witty comebacks and smooth accent, it was hard not to.
You might’ve drunkenly admitted your crush on her to Bucky during a late night phone call and he has not forgotten. I
t was easy for you to confess this crush, but somehow not the one you had begun to develop on Bucky himself. You felt a little ashamed that you have been developing feelings for your mother’s best friend, but nothing would ever happen, right?
Bucky tilts his head and pinches your waist.
“You’re already gettin’ lost in your thoughts thinkin’ about her!”
“Oh stop, you think she’s hot too,” you tease, your voice a tinge too loud and Bucky shushes you, putting a finger on your lips.
He did think she was hot.
Bucky revealed his crush on Sylvie as well when you first talked to him about it.
Since then, the two of you joked about it pretty often, but now was your first time seeing her since you’ve acknowledged the little (maybe big) crush.
“Hey Bucky!” One of your cousin’s calls out to him and he looks back at them, before turning to you.
“I’ll see you in the pool?” He questions and you nod, watching as he runs off to talk to more people.
He trips in his flip flops and you burst out laughing, not being able to contain it. Bucky whips his head to look at you and flips you off.
You take one last look at how good his back looks in his shirt before migrating to the lounge chairs, hoping there’s a free one.
That is when you spot Sylvie, laid back in one of the chairs, a drink in her hand.
You take a deep breath before approaching the seat next to her. She smiles widely when she notices you.
“Gonna give me a hug, flower?”
Sylvie beamed, placing her drink down to pull you in for a hug.
Flower.
You could not decide if it sounded better coming from Sylvie or Bucky. Relishing in Sylvie’s hug, you have to stop yourself from pouting when she pulls away just a bit too soon.
“How’re your studies going? I know you were practically jumping to get away from here?” She asks, settling back into her chair.
“School’s good, it feels nice to be around so many new people but, I’ve missed being home if I’m being honest,” you say and she nods in understanding.
“I know I’ve missed seeing you around, flower.”
A heat rushes across your face and you’re happy it’s hot enough outside to keep a facade up. You turn your head away from her, fearing you would end up lost in her eyes.
What you did not expect was for your eyes to lock onto the sight of Bucky taking his shirt off. It’s as though he meant to take it off in slow motion as he carefully lifts it over his head and throws it onto a chair. He puts one foot in the pool and retracts it.
You can vaguely hear him yelling about it being cold.
Bucky sits at the edge of the pool, letting his legs get used to the temperature.
He runs a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already is. Sylvie clears her throat and you turn to her.
“He is an attractive man, isn’t he?”
Her question catches you off guard for a moment, but nonetheless, you answer.
“Yeah, he is.”
A slight weight falls off your chest at admitting it, but how could you not?
Sylvie smirks, “Don’t look now, but he’s checking you out.”
You go to look anyway and sure enough, he’s gazing at you. Bucky turns his attention to a bowl of chips once he notices you caught him.
“You two are so adorable,” Sylvie says.
“Are we?”
She scoffs and leans in closer to you, almost whispering.
“Very much. You’re taking turns checking each other out.”
You laugh and look back at Bucky, who’s decided to lay back in a chair, his legs spread just enough for you to squeeze your thighs together.
“You should go over to him and sit on his lap,” Sylvie mused, chuckling at your shocked expression.
“What?! No, no I can’t do that Sylvie!”
“Why not? He was looking at your bum and now he’s rubbing his thigh, glancing at you like he’s waiting for you to take a seat.” You ponder her words for a moment.
Yes, sitting on Bucky’s lap sounded like a great idea, but you were a tad nervous.
“And I could tell you want him, honey. Do you know what eye fucking in? That’s what you’re doing.”
The fact that Sylvie could see so clearly through your lust filled eyes also managed to send sparks around your body.
“If he rejects you, you can sit in my lap. Now go, flower!”
Well, you couldn’t say no to that. Standing up, you adjust your swimsuit, then walk over to Bucky.
You run through what you should say once you’re by him, but you can’t decide on what would be best.
Too many thoughts are running through your head. Sylvie offering her lap. Her words about sitting in Bucky’s lap and the way his hands look even better against his thighs as you get closer.
“y/n,” he addresses.
“Can I..um, can I sit with you?”
Bucky raises his brow for a moment, but nods and pats a spot on the chair next to him.
“No, I mean, on you. On your lap,” you say and Bucky’s heart skips a beat.
“Sure you can, flower” he says cooly and he immediately wraps his arms around your waist as you settle against his chest, on his lap.
His hands feel warm against your skin, yet send a shiver up your spine. You allow yourself to lay your head on his shoulder, shifting around in his arms to get more comfortable.
“Careful,” Bucky mumbles, clearing his throat. It doesn’t take long to realize you shouldn’t squirm too much.
But you want to. You catch Sylvie’s eye and she smiles at you, raising her drink and then sipping from it.
“Did you have a good talk with her?” Bucky asks.
“Mmhm. She told me to sit here,” you confess, wanting to know his reaction.
He’s quiet for a moment before replying “Mischievous, huh?”
“Like always, but didn’t expect her to...help with this...I suppose.”
“I’m happy she did,” Bucky says, pressing a short kiss on your cheek.
You sit with Bucky for a bit, zoning out and trying to memorize the feeling of his hands splayed across your stomach.
How when he speaks, you can feel his breath hit the side of your face and his voice drops to a lower volume when he only wants to speak to you.
Being so caught up in your thoughts once more, you can’t help but squirm a bit, his arms tightening around you.
“You’re gonna cause a problem,” Bucky tells you, a slight smile playing on his lips. You push back against him and he contains a groan.
“Seems as though I already caused a problem.”
He chuckles and sighs deeply as you wiggle against him, reveling in how hard he’s gotten from your movements.
“We should go inside,” he mutters and you turn slightly to look at him.
“And do what?”
You feign innocence, but the smirk on your face tells Bucky you know exactly what you’re doing to him.
“Do I have to say it?”
You nod at him excitedly and he gently pushes your head to the side so he could lean his lips against your ear.
“I want to go inside so you could properly touch my cock, since you’ve had so much fun the past twenty minutes grinding against it.”
His words send a shudder through your body and you take one last glance at him before standing up. Bucky follows suit, placing a hand on your hip and keeping you close to his body to perhaps hide his rather big hard problem.
You lead him through the house to your bedroom. You don’t notice how fast you’re walking until Bucky pulls at your wrist and gently pushes you against the wall in the hallway.
“Slow down, flower,” he starts, bringing your hands up to his shoulders. He dips his head down to nudge your nose against his.
“Are you sure?”
You nod and Bucky, with a tinge of hesitance, presses his lips on yours. At first, the kiss is simple.
Bucky’s fingers rub against your sides gingerly and he’s taking his time to feel your mouth on his for the first time. You pull away first, your lips lingering on his own.
You catch your breath, not even realizing how fast your heart was beating. So many feelings are rushing through you, but the main urge coursing around is the one to smash his lips back onto you.
One of your hands drifts up to the back of his head to encourage his mouth back onto yours in a searing kiss.
His actions are a little more desperate as he nips at your top lip and presses his body closer to you. The strain in his swimsuit is undeniable and you whimper as you feel him pushing himself against your thigh. Bucky grunts and you trail your lips to his jaw.
Someone clears their throat and you and Bucky jump apart. Sylvie stands a couple feet away leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest and a playful smirk decorating her face.
“Don’t stop on my account,” she teases, gesturing for the two of you to continue. You look at Bucky and he’s already got his eyes back on you.
“I’m fine with it...if you are too,” he mutters, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.
“It’s okay,” you reply, kissing him once more.
Heat pools in your belly knowing that Sylvie is watching you make out with Bucky.
“Tug at his hair, flower,” she murmurs and without hesitation you pull at Bucky’s hair, a soft noise escaping his mouth at the sensation.
“Little harder this time.”
You follow her instructions again, tugging hard, causing Bucky to buck his hips against you.
“See? He liked that,” Sylvie comments.
“Why don’t we go to y/n’s room? For more privacy.”
The fact that there’s a party right outside has completely glossed over your mind.
The strong desire to have this moment with not just Bucky, but Sylvie as well was enough to lead Bucky into your room, Sylvie following behind. She closes the door and locks it. She takes a seat in your desk chair.
“Continue...with what you were doing.” Her voice, firm yet soft must’ve been turning both you and Bucky on.
His cock looked like it was suffering from his shorts, while you could feel how soaked you’ve gotten since you first sat on Bucky’s lap.
Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh.
You straddle him, gasping at the feeling of his hard cock right by where you needed him. Bucky kissed your neck, sucking softly around to find what spots made you weak.
“I bet she likes it right under her ear, Barnes.”
He quickly moved his lips to the spot and sure enough, it made you whimper. You shift in his lap, slightly grinding against him.
His hands fall to your ass, rubbing the skin and pushing you forward to continue grinding.
“Now, flower, look at his lips. What do they look like?”
Sylvie asked and Bucky pulled his head from your neck. You hold his jaw in your hand and gaze across his lips.
“Wet. Redder than usual.”
Sylvie hums as a response.
“Do you think those lips would feel good on your clit?”
You gasp at her words and Bucky smirks.
“I know they would,” Bucky remarks and Sylvie tsks at him.
“I’m not talking to you, Barnes. Be quiet.”
That wipes the smirk off of his face, but does not stop you from smiling.
“They would feel good.”
You answer, and Sylvie hums again.
“You wanna make them more wet? Spit on his lips. Don’t open your mouth, Barnes. You don’t deserve her spit in your mouth right now.”
Bucky groans and you swallow hard, suddenly a little nervous.
Sylvie seems to sense this and you feel her presence behind you. Her hands slide up your arms to your shoulders and she leans her lips close to your ear.
“It’s okay, flower. You’re already doing so good. I know you want to see Buck become a mess, so do it when you’re ready.”
Her praise really does things for you. You grip Bucky’s jaw tighter, his eyes blown out as he looks up at you.
You gather saliva in your mouth and spit directly onto his lips. He has a hard time keeping them closed, but he does it.
“Smear it against his lips now,” Sylvie says, still standing behind you. Using your thumb, you rub your spit onto his lips. Bucky takes a deep breath, probably trying to control himself.
“Do it again.”
You go through the motions once more, but as you smear the wetness across Bucky’s lips, he can’t help himself anymore. He takes your thumb into his mouth and sucks on it lightly.
You pull your thumb away from him and he whimpers.
“He didn’t listen. What are you going to do about it flower? Slap him? That would be sexy.”
“He would like it though, so not a punishment,” you say and Sylvie smiles.
“Hm you’re learning, honey.”
Sylvie places a kiss on your shoulder, the first time her lips have touched your skin so far.
“He does want to cum. He’s pressing so hard against me.”
Sylvie nods, “then we’ll edge him. He needs to put those pretty lips on you first anyways, right Barnes?”
“Yeah, right,” he stumbles out after clearing his throat.
“Switch spots and take the swimsuit off, flower” Sylvie commands.
You hop off of Bucky’s lap, slowly slipping off the bathing suit. You felt the stares of Bucky and Sylvie bore into your body, but Sylvie’s soft smile made you feel more comfortable.
You sit at the edge of the bed. Sylvie leans close so she could whisper only to you.
“Tell him to kneel,” she says. Your brow raises at her and she nods. Looking back at Bucky, you spread your legs, noticing how a blush is coating his cheeks.
“Kneel,” you say, not as confident as you would have hoped, but it still affects Bucky.
You could almost see how it made his cock twitch. Bucky drops to his knees, moving in between your legs.
“No touching,” Sylvie tells him and continues “only use your mouth. Make her cum.”
You rest one hand on Bucky’s head, close to tugging at it again when he immediately places his lips on your cunt. His tongue rolls through your folds as if he’s testing what feels good.
“Pull on his hair, flower. Use his mouth to get off.”
Bucky moans against you as you tug at his hair, pushing his face closer to your pussy. His tongue flicks at your entrance, his nose bumping against your clit. You slowly start to move your hips, using his face, just how Sylvie told you.
“That’s it, flower. Fuck he’s really into your cunt,” Sylvie says, sitting next to you on the bed. She was right, even though you were moving against Bucky’s mouth, he was devouring you.
Wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking harshly, moaning whenever you gasped out his name.
“She’s close, Barnes.” Sylvie did not need to say it, but hearing it made you moan louder.
“That’s a bit too loud, honey,” she mumbles before turning your head and crashing her lips onto yours in a messy kiss.
The kiss combined with Bucky’s mouth sent you over the edge, your body exploding in pleasure. Sylvie pulls away and runs her thumb over your lip.
“Such a good girl. That felt good?”
You nod, not trusting your voice. Sylvie smiles, leaning in to kiss your cheek, then the other. She trails wet kisses back to your lips and licks into your mouth.
“Am I going to get something now?”
You pull away from the kiss to look at Bucky, still on his knees, his cock still frustratingly hard.
“Don’t give us an attitude, Barnes. You’ll get your turn when we feel like it. Go sit on the chair,” Sylvie motions to the desk chair and Bucky begrudgingly takes a seat.
Even though he looks a little annoyed, he’s truly loving this. Loving that you were finally getting to do things with Sylvie...loving that he was making you feel good...and now...loving to watch.
“Can he touch himself?”
You ask, as if reading his mind.
“Your choice, flower.”
“Beg for it, Bucky.” Sylvie is surprised at your tone, but she smirks, looking expectantly at him.
“Let me touch myself, please. ‘M achin.”
His voice breaks a little and you can’t tell if he did it on purpose or not, but it does send a jolt of pleasure throughout your body.
“Go ahead.”
“But don’t cum,” Sylvie warns and she rids herself of her shorts and underwear. Bucky follows suit, taking his trunks off and grasping his cock in his hand.
“Do you want to touch me, honey?”
You nod and she points to the ground. Settling between her legs, your lips ghost over her clit. You look up at her.
“Spit on my cunt,” she says.
Bucky groans behind you and you have an urge to look at him.
You let your spit dribble onto her pussy, maintaining eye contact with her. It’s just now that you remember how insane this was, how bad it may be, but it’s felt so good.
Using your fingers, you spread the wetness on her cunt, smiling to yourself at the little noises she’s trying to keep hushed.
You prod one finger at her entrance, then slowly ease it in, locking your lips onto her clit. You suck lightly at first, trying to build up her release.
“You see how good she is at this, Barnes? Bet you want her lips on your cock, hm?”
You can’t see exactly how he responds, but you do catch a hurried curse under his breath and a wet slick of him stroking his cock.
You add another finger, Sylvie’s thighs squeeze against your head.
You curl them in sync with the sucking on her clit until she’s moaning your name and riding out her high. She bends down to kiss you, groaning at the taste of herself.
“Please let me fuck her,” Bucky whines and you both turn to look at him. He’s completely naked and flushed, his cock resting against his abdomen.
“Seems like he learned his manners,” Sylvie whispers to you, making you giggle.
“How do you want her, Barnes?”
Bucky contemplates, then stands up. He helps you up from the ground.
“Want her from behind,” he says, a low rasp in his voice.
“Do you want that, flower?”
You smile and jump on the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees.
You wiggle your ass a bit at him and Sylvie playfully smacks it, causing you to laugh.
“Still can’t cum until we say so,” Sylvie reminds him and then turns to you, “but you could cum whenever you want, honey.”
With that, Sylvie sits back at the desk chair to watch.
Bucky holds his cock by the base and rubs the tip up and down your cunt.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he growls, coating his dick in your wetness. You whine as he keeps teasing the tip at his entrance.
A few more strokes and Bucky pushes into you.
You both moan and Sylvie shushes the two of you.
“Please do remember there is a party going on,” she says and Bucky takes a moment to control himself.
The way you clench around him as he pushes himself into the hilt was enough to send him over the edge. But he held that back, focused on making you cum as quickly as possible.
He grips your hips as he steadily pulls out, then glides back in, creating a smooth rhythm. The sound of skin slapping and your short gasps fills the room.
“Spank her a little, Barnes. Not too hard though.”
Bucky does so, softly hitting your cheek and almost doubling over at how much you squeeze him when he does it again.
“Fuck, flower,” he grunts, picking up his pace.
You grip at the sheets beneath you and lower one hand to toy with your clit, still sensitive from when Bucky made you cum earlier.
“Talk dirty to her, I think she likes it,” Sylvie comments as Bucky leans down and swats your hand away to replace it with his own.
He rubs even faster circles on your clit.
“Can you feel how deep I am inside you? Bet you’ve been dreaming about this cock for a while yeah? Just like how you’ve dreamt of Sylvie.”
You whine at that, embarrassment threatening to flood in, but that’s quickly taken away when you hear Sylvie say “That’s cute, honey. I hope you dream of me more after this.”
Bucky pounds into you mercilessly, his fingers never letting up until you cry out his name a bit too loud.
He doesn’t seem to care and fucks you through your second orgasm, watching as you try to catch your breath.
“Help her to her knees, Buck.”
Bucky pulls out of you and you let out a small hiss at the emptiness. You’re tired, but you move quickly anyway, resting on your knees on the ground. Bucky’s cock was dripping with you and the little bit of precum that managed to escape.
Sylvie stands beside him, sliding her hand down his chest, then gripping his cock. Bucky throws his head back in a groan.
“Look at her, Barnes. She’s a little whore, isn’t she?”
Bucky moans, both at Sylvie’s words and the look you’re giving him.
“I think she wants your cum…” Sylvie trails off and looks at you.
It’s crazy how you feel like you know what she wants you to do...without her even saying it. You put your hands on Bucky’s thighs, feeling him tremble slightly.
Soon your mouth is open and you stick your tongue out, pleasantly waiting for him.
Sylvie jerks him off faster. What pushes him over the edge is your hand drifting up from his thigh to cup his balls.
His cum spills out of him, most of it landing on your tongue, but some onto your cheek as well.
“That’s a lot of cum for her, Barnes. Think she likes it?”
Bucky’s eyes struggle to stay open as he’s riding out his high, but he manages to watch as you swallow what was in your mouth. You wipe the rest of his cum off with your fingers and put them in your mouth, sucking them clean.
“Shit,” Bucky groans and you giggle.
You stand up and reach for your blanket, all of a sudden feeling a little cold completely naked. Bucky joins you on the bed.
“You didn’t really get to fuck anyone,” Bucky directs at Sylvie and she shrugs.
“We can’t spend too much time here. Besides, you both did well, I need to give you a reward next time.”
“Next time?”
You ask and she nods, smiling, leaning in close to you, her lips mere centimeters away.
“Of course, if that’s something you, or both of you want,” she mutters.
Sylvie is about to walk out of the door when Bucky says “I know flower here will definitely want more, you don’t even know how many times she’s told me about wanting to kiss you.”
“Bucky!”
You slap his arm and he cackles, laying back against your bed. Sylvie laughs too and sends you a wink before retreating.
Bucky’s gazing at you when you turn to him.
“What the fuck happened,” he jokes and you shake your head, snuggling onto his chest.
“Dreams came true?”
287 notes · View notes
eskelstits · 3 years
Note
Okay okay so hear me out:
Jaskier has been acting odd lately, though the bard was either too shy or too stubborn to acknowledge it. At the very least, he was stubborn fool for thinking Geralt, of all people, wouldn’t take notice. Jaskier had suddenly become adamant about more generous rations for his Witcher, started to insist on larger dinners at taverns, and was always quick to suggest another round of food and drink— only to insist that Geralt finish it. The witcher pretended not to notice the way Jaskier watched intently while he ate and hid his wry amusement when the bard hurriedly looked away upon being caught. Geralt had so far played along with these antics in feigned ignorance, admittedly feeling a small thrill as his body started to bulk and strain against his armor. And now that he was paying closer attention, he found himself fond of just how delicate his bard looked by comparison. Armed with his suspicions of what Jaskier is up to, Geralt decides to satisfy his curiosity by embracing the bard’s antics and seeing just how much he can him squirm.
I was thinking some stuffing and size kink ~ with increasingly daring taunts thrown from both sides of the table bc let’s be real neither of the boys would give in easily.
THANK YOU i definitely had fun with this prompt
[ masterpost - ao3 ]
"Are you ill?" Geralt asked the question hunched over the plate of eggs and bacon he was enjoying for his breakfast.
More accurately, Jaskier's breakfast. Geralt had already finished his own serving, but then Jaskier had deftly stacked his own half-full plate on top of Geralt's empty one. To be fair, as it turned out, that particular tavern did tend to dish out surprisingly hearty portions, and Geralt had to remind himself that Jaskier was not a witcher, and therefore did not have the appetite of one. It was not the only occasion on which Jaskier had passed off a good fraction of his food to Geralt, however.
In fact, it seemed to be happening more and more frequently lately. He would demand seconds, larger portions, extra bread or more ale, only to immediately claim that he was full and offer it up to Geralt. After a tough life of fighting for survival, Geralt was a rather opportunistic eater, and so he always took advantage of Jaskier's leftovers. It was … strange, but Geralt could not say he exactly minded it. He did like going to bed warm and satiated rather than starving, tossing and turning and kept awake by his growling stomach. The only thing that really puzzled Geralt was the staring. Jaskier would look at him like Geralt was the most fascinating thing on the Continent whenever they sat down together to eat, but as Geralt had recently discovered, Jaskier would always quickly look away the moment Geralt met his eye.
Jaskier gaped and sputtered for a moment, eyes wide and hand settled over his chest as though Geralt had just viciously insulted him.
"Ill? Geralt, you wound me. I will have you know that I'm positively glowing with good health," Jaskier huffed.
Geralt grunted. Eyes narrowed, he examined Jaskier for just a brief moment longer, then bowed his head again to continue eating. Out of the edge of his vision, he could see Jaskier watching him.
Geralt had been willing to ignore the odd behavior up until his trousers started feeling tight. He still was not quite upset. It was not an overly drastic change, just a slight layer of padding over top of his muscles, making him look more like he did after he had been settled for a while over the winters he spent at Kaer Morhen, but there was a definite difference. Jaskier seemed to be noticing, too. Though he had not said anything about it, he still stared, and whenever he and Geralt fell into bed together, the bard's hands smoothed all over him, wordlessly worshiping Geralt's fuller frame.
Geralt enjoyed it, too. He had always been broader than Jaskier, but putting on a bit of weight had only highlighted that contrast. The day before, Geralt had caught a glimpse of his reflection looming behind Jaskier's in the mirror as the bard stood there checking over his own outfit for the evening's performance, and he had looked almost … delicate in comparison to Geralt. The sight had ignited something deep and primal and exciting in his core, and he wanted to chase that thrill.
No, he was far from upset. He was curious, though. While he had pieced together what was happening, there was still one more question: Was Jaskier doing it on purpose? Geralt supposed he could simply ask, but the thought of setting himself up for vulnerability like that was horrific. He had to find some other way to weasel out the truth. He had to beat Jaskier at his own game.
"Do I look different to you?" Geralt dared to ask that evening while they waited for the barmaid to come back with their dinner order. Jaskier looked anxious for just a brief second, but then he relaxed again and hummed inquisitively as he scanned Geralt's face.
"Is that a new doublet? Oh! Have you trimmed your beard?" Jaskier said.
Geralt hummed. By trade, Jaskier was a performer, but Geralt knew him well enough to be able to tell when he was lying -- or 'acting,' as Jaskier often corrected him. Two could play that game. Feigning ignorance, Geralt nodded and falsely agreed that he had gone to a barber, and he watched Jaskier decompress with relief. When the barmaid returned and set a full plate down in front of each of them, Geralt cleared his throat to get her attention.
"I want another," he said, pointing to his own plate.
"Ah … Another leg of chicken?" The barmaid looked a bit confused, like she was hesitant to believe that Geralt had been referring to the entire meal.
"No. Another plate," Geralt insisted. A brief pause, and he tacked on, "Please."
The barmaid blinked, but she chose not to argue. Rather, she nodded and scurried back to the kitchen. When Geralt looked back towards Jaskier, the bard was staring. Again.
"... Hungry, are you?" Jaskier questioned.
"Very."
Geralt held Jaskier's gaze for a moment longer and watched as just a hint of color began creeping over the bard's cheeks. Without another word, Geralt began to eat. He tore into the half chicken and the hearty portion of roast vegetables he had in front of him, and each time he glanced up, he found Jaskier trying and ultimately failing to be subtle about the fact that he was watching Geralt like a hawk. Geralt thought that he would have wanted to shy away before he managed to get his questions answered, but that was not the case. In reality, he actually liked the attention, those enraptured eyes fixed on him making him feel alight with a strange mixture of pleasure and shame. The barmaid came back with the rest of the food Geralt had requested, and she set it down quickly almost as though afraid of getting bitten if she ventured too close. Geralt grunted his thanks around a full mouth. Jaskier had been uncharacteristically silent the entire time, all the way up until Geralt finally broke for air and a drink of ale.
“Are you … sure you’re going to be able to finish all of that?” Jaskier sounded both tentative and almost laughably eager.
“Yes,” Geralt answered.
He met Jaskier’s eye again, his gaze dark and smoldering. The bard’s throat bobbed enticingly when he swallowed, and Geralt only barely held back a smirk. Whether or not Jaskier had been feeding Geralt up on purpose, it was obvious that he enjoyed the show, and it was always fun for Geralt to try and get him flustered.
“Ah, yes, well … I suppose you have had quite a healthy appetite lately,” Jaskier said. He spoke hesitantly, testing his luck. Geralt pushed right back.
“Someone has to eat all your leftovers.”
“Mm, yes. You are rather good for that.”
Geralt made it about halfway through his second plate before Jaskier was getting restless again. The bard still had some food remaining on his own plate, and judging from the way he kept glancing between it and Geralt and tapping his fingers anxiously against the table, he was hoping to see the witcher finish it off for him.
“Going to eat that?” Geralt spoke around a mouthful of chicken.
He had inched past satisfied a few bites ago, but he could keep going comfortably enough, and he so desperately wanted to see how Jaskier was going to react to his more deliberate goading. Geralt watched while Jaskier blushed and tried his best to act as though he had not been hoping to hear that exact question. It had been painfully obvious. Their many years together had given Geralt the ability to be able to read Jaskier like an open book. Sometimes, it was useful, likely saving Jaskier from some fights when Geralt was able to pick up on the body language that meant foolish determination or rising anger, but other times, like in that moment, it was simply amusing.
“Come now, love, you can’t possibly still be hungry,” Jaskier teased. Somewhat unexpectedly, it sent a jolt down Geralt’s spine. The witcher made a noise somewhat like a little growl, and his pupils widened. Jaskier did a much poorer job of veiling his own smirk. Perfect. Geralt was baiting him, and he was falling for it so easily. “I know you’ve been eating a great deal lately, but honestly … you’re getting greedy.”
Geralt’s heart fluttered nearly as quickly as a human’s as Jaskier scraped the rest of his food onto Geralt’s plate. By then, Jaskier seemed to have accepted that it was useless to hide his interest. He sat with his elbows braced against the table and his jaw cradled in his palms, alluring blue eyes fixed unwaveringly on Geralt. Near the end of his meal, Geralt was at last starting to struggle, the fact that his armor clung to him a bit more than he would have preferred only keeping it pinned in the forefront of his mind just how full he was. Jaskier’s reddened cheeks had only grown more vivid, the color even dusting the tips of his ears. Geralt rarely saw the bard so silent, so unwaveringly focused, usually only when he was in the middle of a fit of intense writing inspiration, and while Geralt felt scrutinized, he was actually enjoying it. Feeling bold, he grunted around his last mouthful and then reclined back in his chair, hoping to give Jaskier a glimpse of his distended belly where it strained against his clothes. Judging from the look on the bard’s face, it had worked.
“Are you finally satisfied, then?” Jaskier asked, and something about his tone of voice had something hot and exciting churning in the pit of Geralt’s stomach. He sounded almost condescending, but in the most deliciously arousing way possible.
“Mhm.” It was little more than a grunt.
Jaskier evidently had very little regard for how sluggish Geralt was looking. Lithe fingers curled around Geralt’s wrist and tugged insistently, and although Geralt easily could have kept himself planted in place if he had truly wanted to, he allowed Jaskier to haul him up onto his feet and lead him upstairs. Such a short trip normally would never have affected him, but with a full stomach weighing him down, Geralt found himself panting softly by the time he and Jaskier had reached their room. Distracted by the unfamiliar feeling of his trousers digging into his skin so tightly that it was almost painful, Geralt had little time to react before he was suddenly backed up against the closed door and drawn into a heated kiss.
“Jask --” Geralt breathed, cut off abruptly by yet another kiss.
Clearly, he had guessed right. Jaskier did enjoy that display, even more than Geralt had been anticipating. Soon, Geralt gave up on speaking, and he yielded to the kiss, lips parting for a teasing swipe of Jaskier’s tongue through his mouth. There was a pleasant warmth against Geralt’s middle that he soon recognized as Jaskier’s hands, kneading gently through stiff leather.
“Look at you,” Jaskier murmured. Geralt bit back a dry remark about how it was difficult to do that with the bard plastered up against him. “You’re getting so big.”
A thrill ran through Geralt at that. He curled his hands around Jaskier’s slender hips and squeezed, drawing him in closer, and Jaskier gasped against his lips. In truth, Geralt did not look too terribly different than he usually did, but there had been a little tone of hopefulness in Jaskier’s voice, a subtle but unmistakable hint that he wanted more. The next few seconds seemed to blur together, but somehow, Geralt had ended up spread out on the bed, staring up into Jaskier’s darkened eyes where he had perched himself on Geralt’s hips. Jaskier’s usually agile fingers trembled with anticipation as he worked Geralt out of his armor, putting him on blatant display. Where he had once been all sharp angles and overly defined muscles, he had accumulated a small layer of padding, and most noticeable of all at the moment was the rounded curve of his belly, warm and full and demanding Jaskier’s complete attention. His hands smoothed over it, rubbing and exploring, interspersed with little appreciative pats and scratches.
“Knew you were doing it on purpose,” Geralt said. Much to his amusement, Jaskier actually looked shocked. “Weren’t very subtle about it.”
“Yes, well --” Jaskier paused, seeming to be struggling to decide on what to say. Eventually, he just huffed, then decided to deflect and taunted, “Are you sure you aren’t just a glutton?”
Geralt smirked. Without any warning, he rolled over, pinning Jaskier beneath him. He heard Jaskier’s pulse flutter. A heated fantasy sped through Geralt’s mind, thoughts of how easily he could subdue Jaskier, how much stronger and bigger Geralt was, how much deep trust it took for Jaskier to lay himself out so vulnerable for a witcher, a predator. Jaskier’s arms snaked around him, and his hands splayed out over Geralt’s shoulder blades. Geralt laid heavier against him and growled in his ear just to feel Jaskier squirm. Jaskier would be unable to get away even if he wanted to with Geralt’s full weight holding him down. Oddly, that was a deeply pleasurable thought, and Geralt had very quickly decided that he would take no issue with it if Jaskier wanted to keep feeding him, making him broader and heavier still, only further exaggerating that contrast between the two of them. If the way Geralt could feel Jaskier’s hardening cock digging into his thigh was any indication, they were in agreement on that.
“Going to get me something good for breakfast tomorrow?” Geralt purred into Jaskier’s ear.
Jaskier groaned, hooked his legs around Geralt’s waist to grind their hips together, and moved one hand to tangle into the witcher’s hair. His opposite hand snuck downwards, and he pinched at the slight, growing plushness at Geralt’s hip.
“Certainly. You’re just wasting away.”
Geralt’s mouth was far too busy then for any proper response.
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mostlymovieswithmax · 3 years
Text
Movies I watched in May
Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch. So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021 Tenet (2020) - 8/10 This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.
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Nomadland (2020) - 6/10 Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal. The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10 I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.
Chinatown (1974) - 8/10 What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.
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Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10 The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch. Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10 If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there. Red Road (2006) - 6/10 Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience. Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10 One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
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Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10 This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother. Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10 Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy. Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10 Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger. The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10 Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.
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The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10 Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever. Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10 Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast. Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10 For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared. Wadjda (2012) - 6/10 Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.
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Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10 A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011) I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends. Solaris (1972) - 8/10 Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely. Jaws (1975) - 4/10 I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.
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Darkman (1990) - 6/10 Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10 Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast. Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10 Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast. F For Fake (1973) - 8/10 Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.
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The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10 More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise. Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10 The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat. Irreversible (2002) - 8/10 One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family. The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10 I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.
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Antichrist (2009) - 8/10 Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions: It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know? So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!" And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle. Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10 Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though. Roar (1981) - 9/10 Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough. Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10 I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!
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Se7en (1995) - 10/10 The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33. Zodiac (2007) - 10/10 Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode). Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10 My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast. Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10 It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.
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Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10 I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was. Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10 After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution. The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10 Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!
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The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10 About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34. Babel (2006) - 9/10 The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast. Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10 After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.
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juleswolverton-hyde · 3 years
Text
Not by the Moon | 05
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Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU
Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader
Warnings: A sprinkle of grumpy jealous werewolf!Jaebeom who gets a wee bit violent, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, werewolf courting, sexual tension, werewolf!Jaebeom acting like a pup, and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.
Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.
Unchanging.
None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.
And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.
That is when Time truly started ticking.
Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV. Bam and Jinyoung make a cameo.
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Wonderful as a trip abroad might be, there’s nothing that can compare to the secret feeling of relief when returning home. No longer there is luggage to drag along, languages to swap between, or cultures to assimilate to. While it is in good fun, it’s also physically and mentally exhausting. Henceforth, coming home is like a cozy blanket to wrap around your shoulders by the fire on a cold November day. And once you’re bundled up, it is time to breathe easy and rest.
Although, home is not necessarily a place. In fact, mine has made good on his promise and puppy dreams, standing in the crowd to pick me up.
“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out as we enter the hall of arrivals, “over here!”
Manes tucked away under a dark red beanie and wearing a simple black jacket over an oversized black shirt, Jaebeom waves to pull attention to himself.
“Who’s that?” Bam follows my gaze to the adorable tall man as we make our way through the crowd of trolleys, suitcases, hellos and goodbyes. “Is that the dude you’ve been texting and calling?”
“He is,” I whisper in reply as we approach him. With every step, the storm of butterflies in my stomach worsens although I feel light as air at the same time. Happiness in Love is a strange thing. 
“So that’s your boyfriend,” my colleague purrs. He sounds pleased in the way I imagine he’d sound if he was my older brother.
I whip my head around, tongue-tied but not enough to protest the assumption. “He’s not my boyfriend!”
Bam merely chuckles to himself, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he continues. “Sure he isn’t, Y/N. After all, you’ve not been touching your lips and turning into a blushy mess afterwards. Or keeping those books you have with you close at all times, looking at them fondly.”
“Of course I am.” Jaebeom jumps into the conversation when we’ve reached him, acting as if he’s heard our conversation perfectly through the ruckus of the crowd. The sparkle in his eyes dims and turns into a poisonous glare when he notices the guy besides me. “Who are you?”
“JB, this is Kunpimook.’’ I gesture from one to the other, jaw clenched in the hope the wolf man won’t actively show the hostility harboured in his gaze. ‘’The colleague I told you about.”
“Just call me Bam.” Politely, he holds out his hand.
“Im Jaebeom,” the other man introduces himself, fortunately accepting the gesture howbeit with a strained expression. “Her boyfriend.”
“Hey, you must be Y/N.” Holding a tray with three coffee cups in it, a young man joins our company. 
Like Jaebeom, who has proudly proclaimed himself my boyfriend, he is tall, slender yet muscular in build and has black hair. Nevertheless, whereas Jaebeom has a flair of being unapproachable, the stranger has a boyish air around him that’s open for contact.
He moves the carrier from his right hand to his left for a handshake. “I’m Jinyoung.”
Immediately, bells start ringing at the mention of his name. After all, there hasn’t been a single call the past week wherein he wasn’t mentioned. “Jaebeom’s told me about you. You’re a professor at the university here, right?”
“I am,” he beams, his proud tone indicating how much he likes his job. “I teach Mythology. It’s a course that encompasses folklore around the world, so it’s fairly broad.”
“You teach only one course?”
“I do, but I’m also a doctor. Well, still studying to be one officially, but I’m allowed to work at the university’s clinic already.”
 “Wow.’’ A professor and a doctor. There’s little else I can say as a mere travel journalist, so I just try to remain casual despite being utterly gobsmacked. 
“I know, it’s a lot. Nevertheless, somehow I manage to do it and occasionally write an article.”
How does he do it? He’s likely not that much older than I, but he’s evidently busier than I am.
“Show-off.” The grumbled insult interferes with the friendly conversation. The focus of Jaebeom’s glare has changed targets from Bam to the professor. However, the latter doesn’t seem to notice his friend’s chagrin.
“I’m simply introducing myself, Jay. Here,” Jinyoung hands him one of the paper cups from the carrier, “your apple and cinnamon tea.”
“You drink tea now?” I raise an eyebrow, surprised. It sounds like a strange concept because I’ve never seen him drink anything but black coffee.
“Doctor’s orders,” JB murmurs in response, discontent and keeping a close eye on Bam as he nips the warm beverage.
“I’ve put him on tea, preferably green, to lower the caffeine levels in his blood. Otherwise, he’ll be staying up all night reading and trying to cook. Oh,” he reaches for something in his pocket, pulling out a small bottle like the one JB showed me in the park and handing it to his friend, “you forgot your meds.”
“You’re on medication?” Bam asks without any implications or judgment. The funny thing is, despite being extroverted and extravagant - extra, in general - he actually studied psychology and thought about becoming a psychiatrist for a while. Therefore, he has a general interest in medicine and its function of helping the human psyche.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jaebeom sneers sarcastically, his voice closer to a growl than human speech. Then, he turns his attention to Jinyoung, who continues to hold his calm. “Why are you giving this to me now? Couldn’t you wait until we’re back? I’m not gonna take them in front of some stranger, especially not someone close to her. Besides, what does skipping one time or by a few hours matter?”
“Jay, don’t be like this,’’ the young professor sighs. ‘’You know how important timing is, especially with this new treatment.”
“You’re embarrassing me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are!”
A nudge against my shoulder distracts me from the fierce bickering, Bam lowly whispering he’s leaving for home as well as an apology for what he has unleashed. I answer in a similar fashion when promising to call him later and apologizing for putting him into this situation. He merely waves dismissively, unbothered, and disappears in the crowd of trolleys and journeying strangers.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” I intervene lest the situation gets out of hand. A hand on his chest, I try to distract Jaebeom by shifting his focus to me. “Let’s go search for somewhere quiet around here where it’s just us. It’s important to me too you take your meds.”
“Let’s just go home.” His features soften, compromising like I did that day in the bookshop and didn’t want to eat. “I’ll take them in the car, alright?”
“Why do you have to be cross with me about it when you readily accept to take them when Y/N tells you to?” Jinyoung crosses his arms in defiance, lips pulled into a displeased pout.
 “Because she’s my mate,” Jaebeom argues, sure to show his teeth. Withal, he turns into a gentle giant again once he wraps an arm around my waist and looks down at me with so much adoration I feel my cheeks burning up. “Girlfriend, I mean. We’re dating, so she’s my girlfriend.”
“We’ve only been out together once,” I sputter. It’s wonderful to hear the affirmation we’re an item, although I still think it’s a bit too early to claim we are.
“Twice after today. And we’ve kissed,” he corrects me, tone indicating there is no use in protesting. Nevertheless, the sternness wavers as it warms into merriment. “I got you something. I’ll give it to you once we’re home.”
Jinyoung leans in as we head to the exit, whispering. “He went kinda overboard.”
“I didn’t,” Jaebeom growls. “Stop embarrassing me. Know your fucking place.”
“Boys,” I sigh in warning.
Both lower their head and let out a whimper in apology. “Sorry.”
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“This is where you live?” Jinyoung parks the car in front of the tall white brick building overlooking the quay at the edge of town.
“Wow...” Jaebeom murmurs in the passenger seat, awed by the fact I live on the east side of town. It’s a recently redeveloped area, the warehouses refurbished into apartment complexes to help combat the growing housing issue.
“I do. Not for much longer, though.”
Both men turn in their seats, looking at me as if I’m insane.
 “You’re moving out?” The professor asks, although it’s more of an exclamation than a question. “Why would you leave this place? It’s one of the most desired places to live within the city.”
However, JB doesn’t care about the reason which makes me want to leave the neighbourhood behind. Instead, he’s anxious to know where to find me. “Where will you go?”
“Do you know those orchards on the outskirts of town? With the old cottages?” Both nod as confirmation. “Well, that’s where I’ll be moving to. I’ve been meaning to get out of the city for a while. Granted, the harbour district isn’t as busy as the city centre. But, despite being only twenty-two, I crave the silence of the countryside. Or, rather, its tranquility which I can also find in the suburbs.”
“You’re twenty-two?” Jaebeom asks, head tilted to the side.
 “I am,’’ I admit as I pull my knees up to make myself as small as possible. ‘’I never mentioned it because I didn’t think it’d matter. Does it, though?”
My voice is hardly audible, a frog stuck in my throat. Why did I have to be the one to bring this up?
“No, not at all! I still like you. A lot. A lot, a lot. But, I’m older than you. Quite a bit, I think.”
“How old?” The question barely rolls off the tongue, pale with dread.
Please, don’t let there be too big of an age gap.
“I’m twenty...” He looks at Jinyoung, brow furrowed.
“Twenty-eight,” the good doctor whispers, unconscious of the fact that the well-meant reminder is loud enough for me to hear.
“Twenty-eight,” Jaebeom confirms, staring back at me in anticipation. “Six years difference. Does it matter? To you, I mean. In how you see me?”
“It doesn’t. Do you see me differently?”
“I never did.”
“Age is only a number, after all,” the professor pitches in to cheer us up further. “Anyway, I’m dropping you off here.”
“Can’t you stay?” Surely I can’t let him leave without at least thanking him with a cup of coffee or tea.
“I’d love to, but- Don’t you snarl at me.” He points an accusing finger at JB, who’s showing his teeth and lowly growling like he did at the airport.
Caught red-handed, the wolfish man feigns ignorance and stares out the window. However, his sulky expression and scoff betray his true feelings.
“As I was saying,” Jinyoung continues after an exasperated sigh, “I’d love to, but I get to attend an interesting transplant operation today and have a bit of research to do for a new article.”
“That’s a shame. I owe you a cup of coffee, then. That’s the least I can do to repay you for driving me home.”
“I’ll make good on that promise soon. But for now, go on, you two.” He motions for us to get out of the car. “Don’t make it awkward by making me the third wheel.”
“Jinyoung.” Hesitantly, the big wolf man holds up his fist.
“No hard feelings.” He bumps his fist against JB’s.
“Good.” The seat belt comes undone, but Jaebeom doesn’t move to step outside yet. Instead, he leans in towards Jinyoung and takes a whiff, squinting as invisible question marks float in the air. “You smell weird, though.”
“Really?” The other man sniffs the collar of his jacket, shrugging casually in jest. “It’s not that bad.”
“Jinyoung.” Despite still looking a bit pale with remorse, the wolf man says the professor’s name harshly, his voice deep as he chastises the turn to humour. He grows still, gaze focused on his friend as he tries to look for what’s unspoken in the other’s body language.
However, there is nothing to see. Although, if there actually is something off, the professor hides it well. But Jaebeom doesn’t get the chance to scrutinize him long enough to see for himself because Jinyoung turns back to the wheel and waves dismissively. “I’m alright, Jae. Go. Have fun with your girlfriend.”
His friend nods, a strained look on his face, and opens the door. I follow behind, having silently observed the conversation from the backseat.
What’re you worried about? Jinyoung looks fine. Nothing wrong with him whatsoever.
Nevertheless, barely have we opened the trunk when the doctor hangs out the window. “And don’t forget your present!”
“Got it right here.” In confirmation, Jaebeom holds up a neat-looking paper bag, chique enough to originally have been used in a boutique.
“That’s my boy,” he chuckles before he resumes his seat.
With a dull thud, Jaebeom closes the trunk again. 
The engine roars to life and the car pulls out of the parking lot, Jinyoung honking a few times as we see him off.
I look from Jaebeom to the bag, leaning in to try and sneak a peek of its contents. “What did you get me?”
You promised me a shirt, but do you really need this big of a bag for one?
“I’m not telling you,” he muses.
I straighten my posture, a smile building as a golden opportunity presents itself. “Aw, what’s in the box?”
“Box? Y/N, it’s a bag.”
“I know, but- Never mind.” I wave the apparently obscure allusion with a dismissive gesture, disappointed he doesn’t get the reference. “Let’s go inside.”
“Are you upset?” he asks as we walk to the entrance of the building.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Another reassuring question burns on his tongue, but before he can ask it I stand on the tips of my toes to peck him on the lips and nose. “I’m not going to get upset simply because you didn’t understand me. Besides, it’s just a trivial matter. Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.” 
Though I failed the first time, I again try to get a better look at the mysterious bag. As before, the attempt is in vain. “And curious.”
“I think you’ll like it. In fact,” his lips pull into a smug smirk, “I’m fairly sure you’ll look pretty in it. More pretty than you do now.”
It’s prettier.
I let the mistake slide.
To let him have his little moment of triumph.
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There is no place like home. Truly, not a single hotel room or bed and breakfast in the world can substitute the small studio with its minimalistic interior in shades of white and grey.
I breathe in deeply, glad to stand in the familiar narrow hallway leading to the kitchen and space beyond. A faint musty smell cuts through the fragrance of the Nordic leather diffuser sticks I bought before going to Belgium.
Guess I’ll be cleaning tomorrow.
Luckily, it’s been only a few days so the level of dust isn’t too bad. Notwithstanding, the place could do with a little clean-up.
“Well, this is me.”
“I know,” Jaebeom replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes on me.
“No, I mean, this,” I gesture around as I walk into the apartment, “is my place. My house.”
He murmurs something under his breath, seemingly contrasting two words as he tries to understand them or, rather, the difference between them.
“It’s nice,” he remarks when he has figured out his train of thought, looking around appreciatively.
“The cottage will be nicer, I think. I can’t wait to decorate it, make it cozier than this place. Maybe get some plants, hang up a few photos-’’
“A few of us together, maybe?” He proposes as he, too, takes his shoes off and follows me into the living room.
“For example.” I nod at the bag when we settle down on the couch next to the window overlooking the quay. “Can I open my present now?”
“Say ‘please’.” Arms crossed, he leans in so our faces are mere inches away from each other. His breath ghosts warmly over my lips when he continues in a tender yet playful babying tone. “Life is short, but there is always time for courtesy. Manners, young lady.”
“Can I open my present, please?” Regardless of the chance to finally satisfy my curiosity, I don’t dive into the gift directly. Instead, I stay my hand, bothered by a nagging feeling his words are familiar to me. “What you just said, isn’t that a quote?”
“It is, but,’’ Jaebeom bites his lip, eyes averted to the ground, ‘’to be honest, I can’t remember who said it.”
Funny, how you can remember quotes. Maybe that’s how we can communicate in the future if your condition gets worse. Although, let’s hope that’s not the case for a long time.
“Ralph…’’ I start, trying to recall who originally said it. ‘’Ralph Waldo? No, that’s not right. He went by his middle name. Wait, his middle name was Ralph so it was him.”
“Have you read his work?”
“Honestly speaking, I haven’t. However, I have a friend who studies American literature and poetry and she sends poems, quotes and the occasional snippet. I think I’ve seen him in passing. Anyways,’’ I pull the bag onto my lap, giddy as a child in a candy shop, ‘’let’s see what’s inside.”
The present catches me off-guard because the bundles of clothing are both what I expected and yet not. “You...” I trail off, checking and double checking the amount of shirts. “Seven?”
“One for every day of the week,” he beams, proudly barking his reasoning.
These will last me two weeks if not longer. Minimalism isn’t his thing, is it?
I pull out a big grey hoodie and hold it up to my nose to sniff it. A wild forest of which the air is faintly scented by a cologne with fruity undertones and the musty smell of books. I hum contently, enraptured by the scent. By him. 
From the corner of my eye, I see Jaebeom grinning in unadulterated amusement. Albeit not without effort, I lower the article of clothing. “I know this is likely stupid to ask, but eventually they’ll have to be washed so what if your scent fades?”
“I’ll just scent them again.’’ He shrugs casually before he points inside the bag. ‘’Also, what’s in the little box on the bottom might help with that too.”
In my astonishment, I missed the cardboard square at the bottom which turns out to be the packaging for a bottle of cologne. “You can spray it on. Sure, it’s not really purely my scent but hopefully it’s still rem- remi- a reminder of me.”
You meant reminiscent, didn’t you?
“Or I can go to you and have you scent them,” I joke, only half-serious.
“If that means more time together,” his mismatched eyes sparkling with gleeful stars, “sure, why not? I’d be glad to help.”
“Thank you.’’ Absentmindedly, I fidget with the folds of the hoodie. ‘’I really like it.”
Jaebeom ruffles my hair, letting out a chuff. “You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you just sit tight and I’ll make us something to eat?”
“Don’t set my kitchen aflame, though,” I warn him as the wolf man gets up from the couch.
“I won’t,” he answers smugly before leaning in to steal a kiss. “I promise.”
With a spring in his step, JB sets off for the kitchen with the bag of groceries he pulled from Jinyoung’s trunk. The two must have dropped by the supermarket before coming to pick me up.
A pillow propped up against the armrest and the blanket formerly draped over the couch now covering my shoulders, I lie down for a nap.
As consciousness fades, a warm affectionate wolfish smile pierces through the growing haze. Jaebeom murmurs something unintelligible and turns his gaze back to the chopping board.
I am home.
Dreaming of two little pups running around an orchard.
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“Dinner’s ready!” The loud remark barely filters in until it’s repeated up close, the merry bark lowered in volume. A hand shakes my shoulder, but what does the trick in waking me up is the warm wetness nibbling away at my ear. However, it doesn’t stay there, but travels down the side of my neck and ends its journey at the hem of my shirt, giving it a gentle yet fierce tug.
“Y/N, come on. Get up,” JB whines, the words distorted thanks to keeping the fabric firmly between his teeth. He tugs at it again.
What on earth?
I turn onto my other side, causing the big wolf man to let go. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get you to eat.” He makes himself smaller, gaze briefly averted to the side before looking at me again, continuing in the same tender yet stern tone he uses whenever food is involved. “With me. This is my first time cooking for you and I practiced really hard while you were away. So, please, eat with me. I want to know whether I did a good job.”
“Do you have to drag me by the collar for that?” I reach out to scratch him behind his ear, tracing his jaw as my fingers work upwards.
Jaebeom’s eyes mist over, his expression turning dreamy as he leans into the touch. “Want- Don’t know… know how to- Come to… kitchen. Although, maybe, just...”
“Feels good?”
A hasty sheepish smile flashes on his lips as he nods in agreement, eyes closed and speechless.
You really are a wolf. Weirdo. My weirdo.
A whine slips out when I stop. JB slowly opens his eyes again, blinks a few times before he clears his throat. “Can we do that again? After dinner, maybe?”
 “If I liked what you made, sure. However,” I kiss his forehead, “since you asked so nicely, we can do this again after we’ve eaten. So, will you eat with me?”
Will you stay with me?
“What’s wrong?” Picking up on the worrying thought, he tilts his head to the side and scrutinizes my face as he did Jinyoung’s earlier today.
“Nothing.” I shake my head, dismissing the thought since we’ve already said everything there is to say about it. “Just a silly thought.”
His expression falters. “I’m being over- overbear- too much.”
“No, not at all! Don’t say that, silly.”
Jaebeom nudges my nose with his, his tone sweet in an attempt to make me confess what’s bothering me. “Then what is it?”
“I’ve never done this before,” I admit at last. “No one’s ever cooked for me aside from my mom and grandmother or had a guy proudly proclaim himself as my boyfriend. This is simply new to me so it makes me feel, well, a bit awkward. It’s unreal, like a dream that might go up in smoke any second. That’s maybe a better way to put it.”
“I’m really here. Also, remember what you promised me? You’d stay by my side until you can’t anymore and I promised you the same. I’m a wolf, after all. Loyal to my pack or, rather, my- uh- my bi- no, that’s wrong. My lady,” he grabs my hand and lifts the fingers to his lips for a chaste kiss, “I am your gentleman and I won’t go anywhere without telling you first. And, if possible, I’ll take you with me because I refuse to leave you behind. But for now, let’s go eat. Together. I’ll try not to make a mess.”
Don’t cry, Y/N. Don’t you tear up right in front of him.
I take in a shivering breath, swallow hard, and try to regain composure.
We’re here together and wherever it is we’re going next, we’ll be there as we are now.
Side by side.
Even though I’m hungry and the table is literally three steps away, I groan as I get up from the couch. Travelling takes its toll, no matter how short the distance might be. All the same, I shuffle towards the chair facing the kitchen and plop down on it, watching JB plate up. “What are we having?”
“Steak with blanched vegetables and sweet potato mash,” he proudly announces while serving the food.
“Uhm, that’s very nice. However- it’s alright if you don’t remember, but I’m vegetarian.”
“I remembered.” A bright smile forms on his lips, eyes alight with triumph and joy. “That’s why your steak is soy-based. I found it while doing groceries or, rather, Jinyoung pointed it out. He’s been teaching me how to cook and bake. Well, we’re still working on the latter, but I did bring homemade cheesecake for dessert. I still wonder why they call it cheesecake when what’s going in it isn’t really cheese.”
“Beats me too.”
“You got slapped by cream cheese?” Visibly gobsmacked, he leans in with an expression that holds the middle between curiosity and utter confusion. “How did that happen and was it painful?”
“I mean I don’t understand either,” I reply, shaking my head with a low chuckle, and cut into the steak. As the knife sinks into it, a rosy fluid oozes out of it as if it’s been cooked medium-raw which is exactly how I liked it back in my non-vegetarian days. “But baking hasn’t been a success?”
Jaebeom sits back, shoulders hunched as he pokes the carrot on his plate with his fork. “I burned a cake, pulled it from the oven as black as charcoal. Then there’s the case of the exploded soufflés and marble cake that turned out to have no marbling at all. Not to speak of the melted... what’re they called again? There’s also a song that’s got to do with them. Jinyoung sings it a lot. Rocky road! Melted rocky roads and millionaire’s breads.”
“Maybe stick to cooking instead of baking. Not everyone has a knack for both.”
He sighs in defeat. “Maybe I should, but I’ll still try to make you something every once in a while that’s actually good.”
“As long as you don’t blow up one of our kitchens.” I include my kitchen as well because the mere thought of baking together spreads a rosy flush throughout my body that leaves me warm with affection. Besides, it’s another excuse to see him wear an apron, maybe pull some shenanigans myself and have something to eat with a cup of tea or coffee and a good book.
That would make for a nice date. We should do that soon.
“I’ll try.” He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”
The adorable genuineness of the determined gesture is what drives me to seal the promise by wrapping my pinky around his. “I’ll hold you to it.”
While eating the simple yet well-made dinner, the conversation is about novels, the shop, Jinyoung’s cooking lessons and the weary stories of how Kunpimook and I crossed Bruges in search of the best chocolate. Jaebeom hasn’t done much in the time I was away it seems. The bookshop’s been quiet, so he’s had plenty of time to read and work on his cooking. Nevertheless, his expression turns dreamy when I show him the pictures from the trip, but right beneath the surface of it floats a form of sad longing which is too unclear to be certain of or to be properly described.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m glad you got to see this,” he murmurs as he takes my phone from my hand to leave through the collection again. “I’m kinda jealous, though. It’s been so long since I went somewhere other than here. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been somewhere else.”
Brows furrowed, he tries to remember the last time he travelled. Withal, he comes up short, the melancholy of missing memories staining his voice. “I’ve been nowhere except here. Chained.”
“This place clearly is your home, that’s why it’s keeping you here. It knows you belong here and I’m glad you’ve remained.”
He lets out a breathless laugh which oddly holds the middle between a growl and a giggle. “I’m happy you showed up at my doorstep, then. But, the cottage you’ll be moving to... it’d- it’d be nice if I could make that my home too.’’ His cheeks grow pink like rose petals. ‘’Well, maybe not literally, but it would be nice if it would become our little somewhere.”
“Our little somewhere,” I repeat, charmed by the sound of it.
“Our home. Well, concretely speaking. Abstractly, and most importantly, you are my home.’’ He gets up to move to my side, where he crouches at my feet. Foreheads rested against each other, he easily nips at my nose and nuzzles it affectionately with his. ‘’You are what breaks the silence, makes me able to hope for better days.”
“The same goes for you because even though you sometimes still intimidate and freak me out a little bit, you make my days more interesting than they have been in years. So, thank you. For being here, spending your time in my company.”
“Thank you for the same reasons. Now,” JB leans away to get up and starts to clear the dishes, “how about dessert?”
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Before either of us is aware of it, the clock on the wall notes it’s already ten past eight when we finish off the homemade cheesecake. Naturally, partially to also do my fair share, I stand up from my chair before the big wolf man does in an attempt to clear the table and do the dishes. However, when I’m about to walk to the kitchen with them, Jaebeom unapologetically takes them from my hands.
“What’re-? JB, you don’t have to do everything! Let me at least do the dishes.” Flattered yet a tad annoyed by the kindness, and poorly conveying my appreciation, I protest in a harsher tone than I intended to use.
Fortunately, though also a bit comically, he remains unperturbed. Notwithstanding, an unyielding sternness underlines his voice when he responds. “You’ve had a long journey, so sit down and relax. I’ll be right with you after cleaning up.”
Henceforth, unable to protest and rendered comatose by the delicious food, I plop down on the couch. Nestled into the corner, I have a proper view of the man who’s claimed my kitchen for himself.
Although it’s an intrusion to a certain degree, it’s quite soothing to watch Jaebeom defy classic gender roles. Contently humming a song and barely shy of skipping, he cleans up the mess with a tea towel tucked into the side of his pants. 
When he’s done, he hangs the tea towel over the stove’s handle, washes his hands, and settles down next to me. On a whim, though it’s maybe because of instinct, I get up from my little corner and nestle against him. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer as I drape my leg over his thigh to get into a more comfortable position.
Situated snugly in his safe presence, I close my eyes and sigh in pure content. “Can you stay here tonight?”
“Are you sure? Don’t you want to be alone and rest?” he murmurs into my hair.
“I can recharge with you. Besides, you’re nice and warm.” I snuggle up to him more, basking in the mixture of wild wood and cologne. “A perfect pillow.”
He pulls me on his lap, wraps his arms around my body and pulls me flush against his chest, which feels sculpted but not hard with muscle. Abs are nice and all, but I prefer the softness of a defined though not hardened chest. 
“If it brings you rest,” he curls his finger under my chin and lifts it, compelling me to look at him, “I’ll stay.”
I run my fingers along his jaw and up to his ear, immediately reducing him to the puppy-like state he tends to get into apparently when being touched like this. “Thank you.”
“My pl- pleasure.” What would have been a normal response is lost in a growl when I accidentally brush against his crotch as I shift my weight and sit up a little.
His eyes snap open, the hazelnut brown and ocean blue irises darkened, devoid of any sense of their former satisfied tenderness. With his thumb he traces the outline of my lips, lowly purring. “Pretty.”
“Jaebeom,” I place my hands on his shoulders, maintaining a bit of distance between us. We shouldn’t rush this, but the sensation of his growing bulge against my thigh, throbbing against the inside of it, convolutes every thought. Somehow, his scent seems to have gotten stronger too, overwhelming me with the same clear message the firm grip on my hips has. 
I don’t push him back as he leans in, bridging the emptiness I initiated. Foreheads rested against each other and his calloused hands on my cheeks, he guesses what’s essentially withholding me. “Scared?”
“A bit,” I whimper against his palm, the words muffled by the rough warm skin.
“It’s me, Y/N. I won’t hurt you.” Feverish yet sweetly with persuasive conviction, he kisses me. “I’m your gentleman, your boyfriend.”
“I’m afraid it’ll hurt. That we’re going too fast.”
“We’re not. I want this. I want more of you. With you. But,’’ lips pulled into a straight line, he clears his throat while looking as if he is restraining a wild beast that can easily get the better of him if he lets go, ‘’I’ll leave it up to you.”
So, what you’re asking is… 
Jaebeom takes a deep breath to regain his composure, though it has little effect. His breathing remains heavy, close to panting. Nevertheless, the gentle stars return to his eyes as the strained expression softens. “Will you have me?”
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bestie-enthusiast · 3 years
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Chapter 1: Prologue
This is the Prologue to my PTA! Dad! Zemo fanfiction. It is the second of 11 chapters.
The Previous Chapter is for Character Introductions, if you want a more gentle introduction into this au, go check it out.
Fic summary: After the untimely death of both his wife and father due to a bombing, Baron Helmut Zemo takes his son and immigrates to America. He does not expect to find a family nor a romantic partner, and he especially does not expect to find the ability to heal. To grieve.
And yet, here we are.
This is a story about connections, growing, healing and mourning the past while still appreciating the future and all it has to offer.
Lenght: 1428 Words
If this interests you, keep reading!
“Are you ready, Carl?” Zemo asked his son, using their native tongue. He wanted his son to grow up knowing the history of their family, despite the fact that their country had been wiped off the map in all ways but physical. Carl was already fluent in Sokovian of course, as well as English and French, but he did not want his son to get rusty just because they were no longer living in Sokovia.
“Yes, papa!” His son responded excitedly, standing impatiently at the door while his father put his shoes on. He was starting at his new, American, school today. Even though he was sad to leave his home and old school, his new home was very big and exciting, and papa had told him that his new school would be “just fine.”
“Alright, come now schatz.” His father opened the door and gently took his hand. Carl eagerly skipped along the sidewalk as they walked to his new school. He was wearing his new clothes, and papa had said he looked like a gentleman. His papa was also wearing new clothes, he had a fancy coat with fur.
They eventually made it to his new school and Carl paused, looking at his father with uncertainty.
“Do not worry, my liebling. It is only for some hours and then you can come home.” His father reassured him, and Carl warily stepped into the school grounds. He continued walking, eventually finding a group of children playing hopscotch. They let him join, and soon enough he had entirely forgotten about his nervousness.
Zemo stared at his son, smiling slightly with relief when Carl found some children to play with. He was glad that Carl was able to find some children to join. The two children looked like brothers.
“Are you new to the neighborhood?” He heard someone ask beside him. He looked over, seeing a snarky faced woman. She had clearly dyed her hair a horrible blonde, and had a rather obvious fake tan.
“Ah, yes. We have just recently moved here.” He replied with a smile. It was difficult to take his eyes off of his son, but it would be more polite to look at the woman while they conversed, so he managed. He noticed her assessing his outfit and his smile grew a little more tense.
“Are you the one that bought that great big house over… oh whats the street name…” Zemo’s smile grew strained but he reluctantly prattled off the name. “Oh yes that's it! Me and my husband had been planning on buying it, you know but-” Zemo tuned her out, still politely nodding and making eye contact, but not really processing what she was saying.
“Carol!” Another voice shouted out, this time a kind looking woman. She bore a resemblance to the two boys his son was playing with, so perhaps she was their mother. Either way, she earned some respect from him, after all she was getting him out of this dreadfully boorish conversation.
The lady who he had been talking to scoffed under her breath, making him frown. How horribly impolite. “What do you want, Sarah?” She asked rudely, scowling deeply at the other women. Zemo was confused, this other lady, named Sarah apparently, appeared very kind.
“I just wanted to let you know that Hunter is throwing another fit.” Sarah responded, her once sweet smile turning a more sickly sweet, the smile of a woman who knew she had won. The rude woman, Carol, stomped off in a huff, over in the direction where a crying child was throwing themself around on the ground. Zemo grimaced slightly, some people should not have children. He turned to Sarah, giving her a slight smile.
“Hello,” He greeted, eyes flickering over to Carl briefly. He was still playing with the two boys. They had moved onto a different game, he noticed.
“Hey! Sorry about the intrusion, not that you looked like you were enjoying the conversation much.” Zemo let out a little chuckle, that was accurate.
“It is water under the bridge. You are correct, I was not all that interested in what she had to say. I apologise if this is impolite, but are those two boys yours?” He asked, pointing at the brothers that appeared to be teaching Carl some sort of game.
“Yeah, they are. Is that your kid with them then?” She asked back, and Zemo nodded. Carl seemed to be having fun, that was all that mattered. The loud bell suddenly rang, making him flinch slightly. He could see Carl jump in surprise, but he got over it quickly and rushed into line with his new friends.
“That’s a rather loud bell.” He commented quietly, waving to Carl as he went inside. There was a rather attractive man holding one of the doors open for the kids. That was one of the teachers, if he was remembering correctly. Mr. Barnes, although he went by Mr. Bucky, or more simply Bucky. Zemo licked his lips slightly, missing the beginning of Sarah’s reply.
“-get used to it. But considering how old your kid is, I’m assuming you’re not from around here?” Zemo shook his head, both in response and to clear it.
“Ah, no. My son and I recently immigrated from Sokovia.” He explained, watching as the last of the children trailed into the building. He took a deep breath and turned back to Sarah, who was already looking at him with a peculiar expression on her face.
“Sokovia?”
“Sokovia. It is a small European country located close to Serbia.” Sarah nodded and held out her hand. He gave it a firm shake, and gave her another small smile.
“Well, it was certainly nice meeting you, Mister…”
“Zemo. And you as well Miss...:”
“Wilson.” She obliged with a laugh, waving him goodbye as she started to walk down the sidewalk. Zemo spent a moment longer looking at the school, before starting his own walk home. He lived a fair distance away from the school, close enough that he could still walk with Carl on days with kind weather. On other days with worse weather? Well Oeznik could drive them.
As soon as he arrived home he jumped into his work day. Many things around the estate needed sorting out, and he was also sorting out all of his income and income sources. The day went by very quickly, and soon enough he was telling Oeznik to prepare the car so that he could pick Carl up. He flawlessly parked along the sidewalk and began the short walk over to the school.
The school day had yet to end, but he had spotted Sarah, so he made his way over to wait with her.
“Hello again, Ms. Wilson.” He greeted, giving her a slight smile.
Sarah looked at him and smiled back, hers much brighter than his. “Well, hello stranger.” She joked, hiding her smile when he once again flinched at the loud bell.
“It is so unnecessarily loud,” he complained under his breath. Sharon laughed and turned towards the school, prompting Zemo to do so as well. It took him a moment, but he soon located Carl, who was also with Sharon’s two sons. He waved and Carl waved back, weaving through the students and parents milling around. Zemo bent down and scooped him up, giving him a tight hug before setting him back down. He could see Sarah looking at him out of the corner of her eye as she greeted her own two kids.
“You really love him, huh?” She said quietly, looking at Carl as he gestured wildly in the conversation he had started with Sarah’s two boys.
“He is my everything.” Zemo replied, just as quietly, staring at his precious son. He suddenly cleared his throat, startling Sarah slightly. He would not start to cry like some of the other parents, he was a baron, nothing more, nothing less. “I will be seeing you tomorrow, yes Ms. Wilson?” He asked.
“Yes of course, and you can just call me Sarah.” She replied, giving him a soft smile. He returned it and gently rubbed Carl’s back, telling him it was time to go. Carl eagerly followed him to the car. It wasn’t the most fancy or expensive car he owned by far, but it was luxurious and comfortable. Once he had made sure that Carl was safely buckled, and started to drive home.
Carl told him all about his day, and for the first time in a long while, Zemo allowed himself to completely relax.
Tagging: @morganbritton132 (who provided the idea for this fic) and @i-ll-be-the-moon (who is very nice and wanted to read it <3)
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annaraebananawriter · 4 years
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Haunted
...Can this be split into two parts? Probably. Am I going to split it into two parts? No.
This is based off of the Haunted Au by @156lemongummies, the bad ending for Astral. This was partly written before I knew how Astral and the villagers interacted, or rather didn’t interact, so I filled in the blanks with my personal headcanon. Just keep that in mind.
Also! Fun Fact: This can also be titled Imposter, and you’ll see why.
Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale
Characters: Nightmare, Dream (Who belong to Joku), Corruption (There are multiple versions of him, so I don’t know who to credit) and mentioned Astral (Who belongs to @156lemongummies)
Warnings: Character Death, Grief, Things like that and I think that’s all? Let me know!
Word Count: 5240
~oOo~
It was one of the days that Dream and Nightmare planned to relax and hang around with each other—and only each other—without fusing into Astral. Though, they weren't opposed to it; accidents happened, after all. However, they made a deal that it was important to have these days of 'normality' so that they don't forget how to be just one person. They might need that knowledge, one day.
Dream was pretty adamant of this...rule? That was the closest thing to a label they would get. He thinks that it's healthy to remember that they do have a free will in this sort of thing. As if they would ever forget, but you know, better safe than sorry, which was starting to become Dream's motto these days. So, one day a week—or about that, anyway (they were pretty lax about the date; after all, fusing was natural for them. They liked it. The date was just to help them keep a sort of routine in their lives, which was another thing Dream found important.).
Nightmare, on the other hand just went along with it. He didn't care all that much, as Dream was happy and that was what really mattered, right?
The only real problem he had with it...was the villagers. You see, they had never...told them about Astral. For all they knew, Astral was just a skeleton who lived in the woods and came out to visit every now and then. There were quite a few rumours revolving around their origins, too. Some that Dream found creative (he would say that while forcing down a smile, as if it wasn't appropriate to laugh at something like that) and Nightmare found amusing (they were pretty ridiculous and his laughter usually seemed to make it harder for Dream to keep his composure) But, overall, Astral was usually accepted with welcoming smiles and fond pats on the head.
...
To be honest, Nightmare was a bit jealous. Which was silly, he knew that, as he was a part of Astral and so he was also welcomed warmly while being them. But he just...couldn't help it. For so long now, he craved, craved, to be accepted by the village. His efforts were all rejected, however, like they couldn't even fathom the idea of him having emotions like a normal person and not being a cold-hearted demon. It made him angry. Made him want to...do things, things that Dream would hate.
"But He Doesn't Care, Now Does He?"
(In the back of his mind, he knew that, if the villagers ever found out, Astral would be treated differently. They would refer to them as only Dream, disregarding both what fusing means and that Nightmare was even there. The thought always hurt.
"Selfish Idiots—"
However, he would bear it with a smile, like always.)
But he won't tell Dream. He won't; nothing would change his mind. Dream would be confused, not quite understanding but try his best to. His brother would ignore the villager's needs, his own needs (although he already did that), in favour of Nightmare's. He would worry himself sick, which would make Nightmare worry and blame himself (he already did; Dream still worried now, and that was bad enough). It was a cycle Nightmare didn't want to get trapped in.
So, he won't tell Dream. He could handle it himself.
Everything would be fine.
"Naïve Child..."
~oOo~
Nightmare hummed as he walked back towards the tree.
He had forgotten his favourite book back at home and, knowing how much he liked his reading, Dream had sent him back to get it. Nightmare had worried, asking if Dream would be fine by himself. Dream, in all of his optimistic self, had laughed and waved him off with the assurance that everything would be fine. Still a bit worried, he had shrugged off all of his doubts and left, trusting Dream.
(He does trust Dream. He really does. He knows the other can take care of himself and he knows the villagers won't do anything to harm Dream, but he can't help but worry. It was in his nature as a brother.)
For Nightmare's part, everything had gone surprisingly smoothly. He encountered nobody on his journey, except for the stray animal that brushed up against him for pets and affection. It had been quiet in the house, in a good way. He found the book rather easily, once more shaking his head in fondness of his brother (he would've been fine for one day without the book, but Dream had insisted and he had recently gotten to a good part of it so it was too good to pass up).
Now, Nightmare flipped the book over in his hands, staring at the cover. It was made up of hues of brown, gold, red and everything in between the three. The brown and gold made up most of the cover, as it was an arch covered in twisting vines. In the arch, stood two silhouettes holding a rose between them. They were coloured red. His gaze travelled upwards, to the tile. It was printed in big black letters, all capitalized and elegant looking.
It was called—
"...e...now...ian?"
Nightmare's head perked up. He blinked as he saw the tree. He was closer than he thought he was. He almost smiled.
Almost.
Because that was when he noticed the people surrounding said tree and, consequentially, his brother. His brother, who he could only see glimpses of the bright colouring of his clothing, who was surrounded and seemed to be trying to talk to the people holding him by all accounts captive.
Nightmare frowned.
His stomach twisted.
One of the men—by his position, most likely the one right in front of Dream and also the leader—was saying something. Nightmare could see his mouth moving, but he couldn't hear what was being said. There was a pause and the man's lips twitched downwards; Dream must've said something back that he disagreed with.
Nightmare narrowed his eyes.
He had to get closer.
He had to hear what was being said.
(Because his gut twisted with worry and his heart was beating at a rapid pace and Dream was in the middle of all of this, he could get hurt, and gah, he was so stupid he should've never left—)
Quietly, he crept towards the tree, making sure that he stayed out of sight. As he came closer, he could make out words, though he had to strain to hear them.
"Again, I'm sorry," Dream was saying, sounding nervous, which was a first for him, as he usually was always happy to talk to someone. "but I can't let you have an apple. They're not to give out like that. If that was the only reason for you coming here, then I'll have to ask you to leave."
Nightmare narrowed his eyes as the group looked at each other. Now at a good enough distance, he took the chance to study them.
They weren't from the village. It was rather obvious, as both because Dream was nervous as he talked to them, which he wouldn't be if it was someone from the village, and because the group looked like they didn't belong here. They didn't have the clothes or things that everyone wore and they also had weapons. The people of the village didn't carry weapons around with them. These guys did. Now, if they weren't from the village, where were they from?
Nightmare paused and thought.
Come to think of it, this group looked an awful lot like...Bandits.
One day when Astral was walking around the village, they had overheard some of the talk about Bandits. The name was an overall loose term to call them, as they weren't really Bandits, like from stories and such, but it was the closest thing they had to call them. The people of the village were worried because it sounded like these Bandits were here because they had heard about the tree. They were worried about what it meant for their precious Dream.
Astral had left soon after that, as they wanted to talk about this news.
However, if this group surrounding the tree were the Bandits they had been talking about, then what did they want? The obvious answer would be that they wanted an apple. They must've come here to get one and talked with Dream about it, but Dream had refused them gently, as they weren't supposed to give out apples, only protect them. Or at least, they weren't supposed to give them out willy nilly to anyone who just asked for one.
...For some reason, Nightmare didn't think they'd just leave and forget this ever happened.
The thought filled him with dread and something cold.
Eventually, the leader of the group sighed and shrugged. "Oh well, it was worth a try!" He seemed to smile at Dream, who Nightmare got the impression was surprised at. Nightmare frowned as well. There was something odd in his voice. "Thanks for telling us though. We won't bother you anymore." He turned and started to walk away.
Nightmare could finally see Dream. He was right; his brother had been surprised. His golden eyes were wide and stared at the back of the leader as he left. Then they slid over and locked with Nightmare's. They stared at each other, trying to have a conversation without words.
The leader stopped walking, as if remembering something he had forgotten, drawing the twin's attention back to him. "Oh yeah," He said, turning back around with a dark smile on his face. One that made Nightmare's heart clench in worry. "I almost forgot the parting gift."
It happened too fast.
Nightmare had taken a step forward, as something in him screamed that he had to protect Dream.
But it happened too fast.
Too fast for Nightmare to move.
Too fast for Dream to defend himself or even dodge.
Too fast for anyone to do anything to stop the leader from attacking with the knife.
It was as if the world slowed.
Nightmare's eyes slowly widened, his book dropping to the ground as he started to run. His brother's name ripped itself from his throat, a desperate cry that was too late.
It was all too late.
He arrived at his brother's side just as Dream stumbled back, a cut stretching across his chest. It bled gold. Nightmare grabbed Dream as both their legs gave out from under them. Panicking, Nightmare tried to heal Dream, but his magic flickered and died.
(He had never been good at healing, not like Dream was—)
But it was enough for him to learn something alarming:
The knife hadn't just cut Dream's chest...
It had cut his core almost clean in half. And nothing could heal a core.
Which meant...
Dream would...
Dream was going to...
Dream was...
Dream.
All at once, the world was back to normal. Sound slammed back into Nightmare's ears, becoming a ringing that he tried desperately to ignore. He had to focus on his brother, who's breathing was ragged and stuttering and he couldn't do anything—
"Pathetic."
"Dream..." Nightmare said quietly, voice thick with tears, which had started to spill over and down his cheeks, blurring his vision. He didn't know what to do. He didn't think there was anything he could do. His hands hovered around the wound.
The tightness in his chest grew until he could barely breathe.
His world had narrowed down so that only Dream and him remained. Nightmare felt so much that it all blurred together into a strong sense of guilt. For not being there in the first place, for agreeing to Dream's stupid suggestion that he go get his stupid book, for not being fast enough in coming back. For so many things that, in the back of his mind, he knew he couldn't have prevented, not really, but feeling too helpless to listen to the voice of reason.
He watched as Dream shakily smiled. "I...i-it's okay, Brother..." Nightmare could barely hear Dream speak, too focused on the sudden pale glow coming from him. The pleading in Dream's voice for the next words brought Nightmare's attention back to him, his mind suddenly very clear and quiet. "P-please...don't blame yourself...not your fault, okay?"
Nightmare's breath hitched. "Dream—"
Dream didn't dust. Neither of them did, or would. It was something they had known ever since they were brought into existence. As they weren't human, they wouldn't leave a body and as they weren't monsters, they wouldn't dust. Instead, they would just...fade, disappear into the void or wherever they go when they die. Despite knowing this, however, they had never worried about it.
After all, as long as they were together, nothing bad would ever happen, and that included dying, right?
Nightmare thought back to this as he watched Dream fade in front of his very eyes, too frozen to move. Realizing that Dream was disappearing forever made him start and reach out, a whisper of his brother's name caught in his throat as his hands closed around particles of golden light that quickly disappeared. Dream's crown and clothes dropped to the ground, his gaze following them. He knew that if he opened his hands that there would be nothing there, so he let them fall to his side as they opened.
His gaze narrowed on the clothes pile as a cold feeling spread throughout his body. Rage filled his heart, urging him to do something to the people who killed his brother. They killed Dream, who was only trying to protect the tree, who was only doing his job. They were idiots for not realizing it! They deserved pain. They deserved to die in turn.
Nightmare stood up slowly and stumbled a bit, the draining of feeling so many things in such a short time catching up to him. He turned around and was faced with an empty hill.
They had left.
The fact made him laugh hysterically, something breaking in him. He laughed and laughed; he couldn't help it! He found that he couldn't stop. He reached a hand up to grasp his head, trying to ground himself as he continued laughing.
"Cowards."
Yes, they were, weren't they?
They killed someone so dear to him and left without facing consequences? That was the very definition of cowardice!
Though...maybe Dream wasn't dead.
Maybe...maybe...maybe he was just playing Hide 'n Seek!
It was Dream's favourite game, after all. They played it almost every day. So, Dream had probably decided to start a spontaneous game of it. He even got some of the villagers to help him hide, how clever. Yes, clever and very dirty.
Nightmare giggled once more before relaxing. "Okay, Dream. I admit, you got me good for a second there. I really believed you were dead!" A giggle burst through his mouth again and he desperately tried to smother it. "But enough's enough. It wasn't funny. It was the opposite. Now please come out and apologize!" He crossed his arms and waited.
Nothing happened.
He blinked, confused. Dream had never refused him before. He had always listened when Nightmare was this stern with him. His arms uncrossed and he cupped his hands around his mouth as he called out. "Dream?" No one answered back and his confusion grew. "Dream, please come out! I'm not mad, just..." He struggled with his words for a minute. He sighed. "Okay, I'm a little angry, but I forgive you. Now please come out!"
He waited again expectantly.
Nothing.
Nightmare frowned, anger returning to the front of his mind. "Okay, fine!" He snapped out, turning sharply back to the tree. "I'll wait until you come to your senses and return!" He stomped back to the base of the tree where he stopped and stared at the clothes still on the ground. He reached down and grabbed the crown, ignoring the way his hands shook and his stomach sank.
Maybe he was...
He refused to believe it. "Dream, please...It's really not funny anymore..." He whispered to the crown as he tightened his grip until it hurt. He listened once more, growing heavy with the growing realization.
No one answered him. No one came up to him and tackled him in a hug. No one whispered their apologies as they started crying as they realized what they did. No one was there for Nightmare to smile at and comfort and hug and make them promise to never do that again.
And if no one was coming to do those things, then that meant...
"Please..." Nightmare whispered once more, voice cracking on tears. He fell to his knees and screamed. He screamed over and over again until he couldn't anymore. Until his throat ached and his mouth was dry. He clutched the crown tight to his chest, thankful that there was at least one thing left of his brother.
...that Dream was really dead.
~oOo~
The next few days passed in a blur. Nightmare had taken the clothes, cape (which had made him sob heavily once more as he grabbed it) and crown back to their house. Entering the house had been another struggle as everything in there reminded him of Dream. He had to stop himself from breaking down and crying at the sight of their couch and so many other little things until he made it to their bedroom, the one they shared.
Then came another struggle entirely. Once he had gathered enough courage to open the door, he had immediately started crying. Since they shared the room, there were so many things in here that reminded Nightmare of Dream. He had thrown the stuff onto Dream's bed and ran out of the house, all the way back to the tree where he remained for the days following.
He avoided going back to the house, at least for now. He knew he would have to face it eventually but he just...it was too soon to go there now. So, he remained at the tree, never sleeping except for the occasional hour of which he had a nightmare of Dream dying all over again and spending the time locked in his head, face blank on the outside.
~oOo~
It was one week from the incident that the villagers had realized what had happened.
Nightmare looked up slowly as footsteps stomped heavily towards him. Recognizing his usual bullies, two monsters and a human, were coming up to him with a murderous look on their faces, he tried to stand to greet them.
They arrived before he could and the human, their leader, grabbed his collar and punched him, pushing him to the ground. Nightmare held himself up with his elbows, looking up at them with a weak and confused expression. The leader panted and retracted his arm. He glared at Nightmare.
"You murderer!" He screamed, making Nightmare flinch as a bit of spit landed on his face, though he made no move to wipe it away. "How could you kill him?! WHY?!"
Nightmare's eyes widened as he realized what the other was talking about. He gulped and started to whisper, "I didn't..."
One of the monsters shook their head, looking down on him with disappointment. They didn't seem to have heard him. "Your own brother...you killed your own brother! I can't even imagine how he had to have felt..." They shook their head again.
That hurt. Nightmare whimpered a little, the words striking true. They were right. Dream had to have felt the same way as he was dying. The pain in his brother's eyes brought another fresh wave of tears to him in the present. Dream must've blamed him, at least a little. His words about not blaming himself came back to Nightmare again too and he realized that Dream must've been just trying to make him feel better.
After all, it was Nightmare's fault he was dead.
The other monster spoke up, whispering, "You really are a demon..."
Nightmare hung his head, not opposing the words. He really was.
~oOo~
Nightmare yawned as he stared at the words on the page. He hadn't slept in...what was it now, three days? Though that may not seem like much, he had only slept a handful of hours the nights before, some days even getting zero hours. Now he was just too tired to keep his focus on anything.
It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep, either. He did. But he was also scared to. He kept seeing Dream dying over and over again, then hearing his voice say things like it was his fault Dream died, he killed him, things like that. Nightmare knew, on some level, that Dream wouldn't want him to blame himself—hell, his last words were that it wasn't his fault—but...no matter how he looks at it, all he can see is that the blame rests on him for not being there quick enough.
The villagers agreed that it was his fault, too. They often yelled things at him as they passed by the tree, sometimes coming up and hitting and kicking him. They mostly kept their distance, however, for which Nightmare was grateful for. He didn't have the energy to deal with them.
There was also...Astral. Just the name made his eyes tear up again. With Dream...dead...he couldn't become Astral again. He wouldn't be able to ever again. It hurt. When they were Astral, their minds were entwined, as if becoming one singular one. Each time they fused, they grew closer, becoming more dependent on the other. It's not...entirely healthy, they knew that, which was why they had the days where they tried not to fuse. It was important to remember that they could take care of themselves on their own if need be.
And now...Nightmare would need to take care of himself forever now. Alone.
...
It hurt.
He didn't know what else to say but that it hurt.
This was another reason why he wanted to sleep so badly. If he goes too long without it, his mind gets muddled and there's no filter for the thoughts that come. Meaning most of them end up being about Dream, about his guilt, about the villagers, about Astral, about so many things that he wants to not talk about.
...God, he was so pa—
A sudden sound—like...a book being slammed—next to his ear made Nightmare jolt, his eyes snapping open. He blinked hard as his heart raced, reaching up to rub at his eyes. Confusion filled him as he blinked again. What just...
Light giggles filled the air now and Nightmare forgot how to breathe.
That sounded like...
But it couldn't be...
But...
"You should've seen your face, Night! It was so funny!" A voice—Dream's voice—said next to him, his giggles turning to laughs.
Nightmare was shaking. He must be dreaming, must've dozed off by the tree, because Dream was dead. He knew it. He saw it happen. Yes, he might've tried to deny it in the beginning but there was no way he was denying it now.
But still...
Even if this was a dream...at least he gets to see his brother again, right? Even if it was just a figment of my imagination.
A finger poked his cheek, bringing Nightmare out of his thoughts. "Night? You okay? I didn't scare you too bad, did I?" The concern in his imaginary brother's voice made Nightmare's mouth twitch. No matter what he was, Dream was too good for this world.
"Nightmare?"
Nightmare shook his head and smiled, turning to his brother. God...he looked the exact same he did when he died! Forcing down a sob, he swallowed. "I'm fine, D-Dream. Sorry for worrying you." He laughed awkwardly in between his words.
Dream stared at him. That was another thing about his brother. People though Dream was too oblivious to notice anything outside of himself, but that wasn't the case. Dream noticed lots of things. He just...kept it to himself. Nightmare smiled again as he remembered all this.
Dream grinned, cyan eyes twinkling, drawing Nightmare's attention again. "Well, okay! As long as you're alright." Giggling to himself, Dream sat down beside Nightmare, leaning against him as he started to weave his flowers together.
Nightmare watched him for a minute, a fond smile in place.
He had missed this.
God, how he had missed this.
It felt like forever since he saw Dream last. He wasn't even sure how long it had been exactly as the days all sort of blurred together in his remaining shock and grief. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, actually. Pretending everything was fine seemed very appealing to him, as he drank in the sight of his brother next to him as he should be, relished in the warmth and weight of the body pressing against his...
...
But something itched in the back of his mind, a strange sensation that something was wrong.
Nightmare paused and furrowed his brow, thinking this over.
...
...
Did...
Well, it could be a trick of the light...but...
Did...did Dream have...cyan eyes? Now, in his made-up fantasy? Why would he make Dream have cyan eyes when he knew, remembered as one of the most painful things, as one of his most favourite things about his brother, that Dream had...golden...eyes...
Nightmare froze.
A slow, terrifying chill moved through him.
"Hey, Nightmare?" The Dream beside him asked, all movement stopping, voice almost...dead...hollow. "Why did you let them go?"
Nightmare blinked, still coming to terms with what he had realized.
'Dream' tilted his head back to meet his eyes, cyan staring holes in his soul. "The guys that killed be. Why did you let them leave? Why didn't you go after them and..." he shrugged, "I dunno, kill them?"
It was said with such casualness, such innocence, such child-like curiosity that it, while squeezing his chest in pain as he hadn't heard that voice from Dream in years, confirmed his suspicions.
After all, Dream wouldn't wish death on anyone, whether they killed him or not.
It didn't matter if it was his mind or not.
This wasn't Dream.
Anger surged through him and Nightmare shot to his feet, making as much distance as he could between him and the...the imposter, who had fallen with a yelp at his sudden movements. He turned and glared, with as much hate as he could. It was difficult with the thing still looking like Dream. "You aren't him."
Fake Dream blinked, looking confused. "What are you talk—"
"You aren't him," Nightmare repeated, staying firm, "so don't try to pretend you are. Dream's eyes aren't cyan. They're golden. So golden that the sun can't compete with them, gold itself can't compete with them."
He took a shaky breath. "You aren't him. You aren't Dream."
Fake Dream had reached a hand up when Nightmare pointed out the eyes. He frowned. "They're cyan? Damn, I thought I fixed that problem."
"You aren't Dream." Nightmare repeated again, as if the imposter was denying it still.
The imposter shrugged, standing up. Nightmare took two more steps back. "No, I'm not. I wondered if you would catch on, when you would, so I'm not gonna deny it. But," He grinned, black...stuff dripping from his mouth. "do you want to see who I really am?"
Without waiting for an answer, Fake Dream stepped back and disappeared.
Nightmare blinked and everything was different. The sky was a deep red, black clouds covering it, the sun was gone. The grass, trees, everything was dead. Brown. It crackled under his feet as he turned in a slow circle. The village was in ruins, some parts of it still on fire. He covered his mouth as he spied a few bodies in the rubble.
And...the tree. His tree.
It was cut in half, jagged edges poking out of the ground. There were a bunch of flakes of bark resting on the ground, what must've been the remains of the top half of the tree. The remaining stump was dead, but it wasn't the faded gray colour most trees would be when they were dead. It was black.
It was horrifying.
"Pretty, isn't it?" Dream's voice whispered in his ear and Nightmare spun around.
The imposter had changed. He still resembled Dream, still wore his clothing, still bore his looks, but he was covered in black...sludge? Goop? Whatever it was, stuff. His cyan eyes were glowing now and he was still grinning, though it had switched from cheerful to eerie. He was also...floating.
Nightmare was shaking, he faintly noted. Breathing in slowly, he tried to calm himself. It was just a dream. "Where are we?"
The imposter's grin widened. "Why, our home of course! Well, what it would look like in the future. I don't know if it still looks like this. Dream's death did really change things." He laughed, spreading his arms out wide. "Heck, we weren't supposed to meet until after you ate the first apple!"
Nightmare shivered, his horror growing at every word uttered. "What."
The imposter nodded like it was the best thing in the world. "Yeah! You were supposed to eat the apple—" He paused and backtracked. "Well, you were supposed to pick it first, in an effort to prove you were as good as your brother. I was supposed to convince you to eat it and then we would become one person bent on drowning the world in negativity!"
"That's..." Nightmare swallowed, shaking his head. He grew dizzy.
"Fun, right? And then—"
Nightmare shook his head again, getting his bearings again. "Don't. Just...don't. I wouldn't do that. I won't do that. Not ever."
The imposter stared at him, all his happiness gone. "You would. You've thought about it before, I wouldn't be here if you didn't! And you still might." He tilted his head. "Dream's dead. Whatever relief he would give you from the beating and harsh words is gone. The villagers will come back and they will be worse. You'll get tired. You'll give up."
"I won't." Nightmare growled, fists clenched by his side.
The imposter's eyes narrowed. "We'll see."
Nightmare growled again and moved to explain just why he wouldn't do all those terrible things, but a wave of drowsiness washed over him. He stumbled, his legs suddenly straining to keep his weight. His eyes felt heavy.
The imposter blinked and his cheerfulness returned. "Oh, we're out of time. See you again soon! And call me Corruption! 'The imposter' was getting repetitive."
Nightmare didn't hear any more as his legs gave out and he fell backwards into a sea of black.
~oOo~
Nightmare woke up with a gasp. Panting, he looked around quickly. Still under the tree, though the sun was setting now. Still by the village. The world was still alive. He was awake. Gripping his chest, he tried to calm his breathing.
He was awake.
Or was he, he thought, tensing as Corruption's laughter (still resembling Dream's, the bastard) filled his head.
"We're going to have lots and lots of fun, brother!"
Nightmare shivered, burying his head in his hands.
Its voice still sounded like Dream.
Nightmare let out a loose sob, digging his fingertips in his head.
Dream was dead—he still struggled to say this, unwilling to accept it—but Dream was dead.
Dream was dead and he was left with someone imposter, some ghost, demon, thing, whatever that wanted and was trying to taint his memory.
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crimson-snowfall · 4 years
Text
Like You Better Like This
Theo Route Announcement Celebratory Fic
Word Count: 1400
Pairings: Theo x Arthur (Theocona)
Genre: NSFW ModernAU (Detective!Theo x Vigilante!Arthur)
Warnings: BL, gunplay, blowjob. Please note that this fic focuses on a suitor x suitor pairing, and this is your friendly reminder that warnings exist for a reason and that you are responsible for the content you choose to consume.
A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts in wait for Theo’s route announcement for quite some time now, and I haven’t written BL smut for like 2 or 3 years now and this is my first attempt on a modern AU... so yeah, I hope it just turned out okay at least?
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The investigation department broke out in mayhem as reports of the sabotage of two privately-owned armored trucks came in-- this would make it the third incident within a span of a month. Theo kicked under his desk, burying his face into his palms as he mentally cursed the perpetrator that he unfortunately knew all too well, but couldn't do anything about.
That's why he'd chosen not to get involved in these cases, and as a result, since most of his colleagues were more interested and invested in the recent sabotage cases, Theo had been working overtime for weeks now on the regular cases that no one else was interested in.
"That klootzak is so dead to me," the detective grumbled under his breath as he sorted through the pile of cases stacked on his desk, the thought of the long work weeks ahead of him already wearing him out.
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It was already past midnight when Theo trudged into his apartment unit-- which, under normal circumstances, he should be the lone occupant of, but the television noises coming from the living room made it evident that he wasn't alone that night. Considering the recent turn of events and the fact that his beloved brother would never be so rude as to enter his unit uninvited, Theo didn't hesitate in throwing his briefcase over the couch he just knew this uninvited guest was lounging at, and hearing the ensuing yelp of pain made him wish he had another suitcase he could hurl at the man who'd peeked at him from couch.
"Long day at work?" Arthur asked whilst soothing the side of his head where Theo's briefcase had hit him.
"You're really asking me?" Theo's sharp retort cut through the living room, but as always, it didn't have the intended effect on the other man.
Arthur approached Theo with a mischievous grin, and although the latter had been scowling so hard at the former that his brows were practically touching, he made no effort to stop the other man from taking off his coat.
"I brought some pudding. It's on the fridge," Arthur casually revealed as he made his way to hang Theo's coat on the coat rack. The detective obviously didn't appreciate the change of topic, but he was starving at the same time. He opened the fridge and saw that one compartment was filled with what may be a couple of week's worth of his favorite pudding and other desserts.
"I've told you countless times that I can buy these on my own," Theo grumbled as he dug in on a blueberry pudding.
"You're welcome, my dear Theo. I see that you like your compensation as always?" The comment earned Arthur a cold, hard glare from Theo, one that he met with his own unwavering convictions.
Their history goes all the way back to their high school days, and ever since then, they have been inseparable as they even ended up pursuing the same career. Somewhere along the way though, Arthur had become severely disillusioned with the 'flawed, inefficient  justice system that actually bred more social inequality,' and after years of failed attempts to convict those who had cheated society but had the wealth to evade punishment for their crimes, Arthur finally quit the job.
Nowadays, he masquerades as a forensic biologist while he's actually involved with the top brass of one of the largest vigilante groups that target those who had risen into wealth and power through illegal means.
"You were the one who behind this operation, weren't you?" Theo firmly inquired, cup of pudding neglected on his hands as his glare bore holes into Arthur. 
"What gives?" Arthur asked in amusement as he snatched the half-eaten pudding away from the grumpy detective.
"That man was on the last case you were on before you left, and I know you've had your sights set on him since then. Also, that's my pudding," Theo tried to retrieve his dessert, but the ex-detective had other plans. Taking in a spoonful of the pudding, Arthur swiftly closed the distance between them, capturing Theo's lips with his own, parting them with his tongue and feeding him the pudding in his mouth.
"What are you talking about, Theo? I've never had my eyes set on anyone else but you," Arthur's eyes shimmered with need and longing; their conflicting situations had put a strain on their pre-existing relationship to the extent that they could only meet like this every once in a while.
"Quit it, Arthur. You know what I'm talking about."
Arthur snorted derisively. "Then are you mad at me?"
"All I know is that you're better than this."
"So do I, Theo. That's why it's a wonder how you could put up with that sorry excuse for a--"
"Like I said, it's not up to you or anyone to do these kinds of things!" Theo roared in aggravation, leaving Arthur speechless for a moment. After a while, he quipped back with a cocky smile,
"...You say that, my dear Theo, but then, isn't it up to people like you to capture and turn in people like me who take matters into their hands?"
"Seriously, why are you-"
"I wonder why, oh dear detective," Arthur's hands began to wander all over Theo, finding their way to undo his tie, "...if you hate what I'm doing so much, then why don't you--"
And just as when Arthur was about to bind Theo's wrists with his tie, Theo had pinned him down on the couch and rammed the barrel of his pistol into his mouth.
"Shut up," Theo sternly warned, his own eyes burning with a pent-up medley of desire and frustration. He's been feeling conflicted enough as it is, and the last thing he needed was Arthur rubbing it on his face that the reason why he's feeling as such is that because they're madly in love with each other.
The novel look of shock on Arthur's expression only lasted for several seconds, though Theo had already committed it to his memory. He didn't exactly dislike the perverted, masochistic glint in those eyes that were only a few hues brighter than his own. Rather, he actually found it an alluring sight to behold, watching it spiral from eagerness to desperation as the night goes deeper.
With one hand keeping the pistol's barrel in Arthur's mouth, Theo proceeded to grind their clothed erections against each other.
"Keep your mouth shut, and I'll show you exactly the answer you're looking for," Theo's voice rasped as he built-up the pleasure between them, and Arthur purred in approval.
Slowly, the buttons on Arthur's shirt came undone in the wake of Theo's feverish exploration, and the former bit down on the barrel in his mouth as the latter flicked his hardened nipples.
"What a manwhore," Theo taunted him as he hastily freed his own erection, retrieving and tossing the pistol aside in favor of shoving his cock inside the other man's mouth.
They held each other's heated gazes as they partook in their debauched, mutual pleasure. Theo held no reservations as he vigorously rammed his cock into that familiar warmth of Arthur's mouth, and as he always does, Arthur skillfully massaged his tongue over the bulging veins of Theo's thick, hard length.
"Yes, that's right, you damned klootzak," Theo hissed as he firmly gripped on Arthur's hair, "I like you the best when you can't run this filthy mouth of yours because it's filled with my cock, did you know that?"
In response, Arthur swallowed the entire length of Theo's cock-- or at least, he had made the attempt to do so given that it was physically impossible due to its impressive size. He didn't really have to wait that long either before his mouth was overflowing with Theo's rich, warm essence as he felt the fierce throbbing of the cock in his mouth, and Arthur made sure not to waste not even a single drop as he licked every inch of it clean on its way out of his mouth.
"What now, Theo? There's nothing keeping me from running my mouth now," Arthur taunted with a hungry look in his eyes.
"Oh yeah? Then I'll just have to make sure to keep you occupied until I can kick you out in the morning, right?"
True to his words, Theo had kept Arthur thoroughly occupied all night long until dawn.
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I don’t know who wants to hear this but I always feed Ikevamp KR Theo with the blueberry pudding because he always seems to like it. So yea fun fact KR Theo likes blueberry pudding.
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halothenthehorns · 3 years
Text
THE PORTKEY
Lily excused herself before she started the next chapter, scrounging up a quick lunch for the boys, and Harry happily followed, leaving the other three in a rather awkward silence. They hadn't really had a chance to talk since the end of the last book, but now that Remus himself had read out that he clearly wasn't having anything to do with Harry, James and Sirius weren't even sure what they could say to Remus. Clearly something had happened to him after James's death, something that made him believe Sirius had done all of those terrible things and not go to check up on Harry, and he'd never given a reason why to Harry. They weren't even writing to each other, for all they knew he wasn't even out there helping Sirius either. It bothered them greatly, but considering what that rat was destined to do to them, it wasn't the highest of treason he could pull either, no matter how much it hurt, so neither of them were going to acknowledge it for as long as they could.
Which is why it surprised them all the more when Remus whispered, "I'm sorry."
Sirius snorted, with surprising ease brushing that off as he told him, "for what? Ignoring Harry? You haven't done it yet, so don't apologize until you have. You should be partially glad you are, otherwise James would be getting jealous of you too."
James threw him a sharp look, opened his mouth, but then turned away with a wince of shame, had he been that obvious?
Sirius nodded though like James had agreed with him anyways. "Our future is a mess, but there's no sense in apologizing to each other until we can't fix it anymore."
Remus studied him for a few moments longer before he fully grinned at him, not a trace of sarcasm present as he demanded, "when did you get so wise?"
"Because I know there's someone else I'm never going to forgive," Sirius said back in such a low voice, it no longer really sounded like him. "Trust me Remus, whatever you do or don't do, it won't get that bad."
Remus's and James's face twitched, like their insides had just been slammed against their skeletal systems unexpectedly, but thankfully Lily and Harry returned then.
Once they'd all eaten their fill Lily quickly retook her spot. She found her place and began reading with genuine interest, very curios and more than happy to be reading about her son going to something as innocent and fun as the World Cup, even if Quidditch wasn't her idea of a good time. It was still better than, say, running into Fluffy again.
Harry felt as if his head just hit the pillow when Mrs. Weasley was shaking him awake, whispering for him that it was time to get up. He fumbled in the dark for his glasses, light wasn't even peeking in the window yet.
Lily made the appropriately disgusted face at being awoken before the sun, but the boys looked far too giddy for what was to come to care.
Ron and the twins were roused as well, and all four made their ungainly way down the stairs to find Mr. Weasley dressed as Muggle as he could get, in a baggy golf sweater, and worn blue jeans held up with a belt.
"And you said you weren't sure if Arthur knew how to dress like a Muggle," Remus chuckled.
"I'm guessing that's good then," James shrugged with disinterest, more curious as to why he had to dress like that at all, where were they going that involved Muggles seeing them?
He asked Harry if he passed, and Harry said he did a very good job. George tried to get out around a yawn where his eldest three brothers were, and Mrs. Weasley explained for them they were Apparating there later while dishing out porridge for them. Fred grumbled why they couldn't just apparate as well.
"I'm guessing because, they don't know how," Sirius snorted. "They're only just now going into their sixth year after all, they won't even get the practices until then."
"I'm guessing that hasn't stopped them from trying though," Remus smirked.
Mrs. Weasley reminded that they weren't of age yet, then went back out of the kitchen to fetch the girl's. Harry asked that you had to take a test to Apparate? Mr. Weasley explained that yes you did, and it was looked over by the Department of Magical Transportation, who'd just got done fining a couple last week who tried and failed, managing to splinch themselves.
Harry watched the others around him give a little face twitch of sympathy, but as frustrating as always, he was truly lost what that word meant, but since he knew Arthur was fixing to explain he chose not to ask now.
Harry watched everyone around the table flinch, while Harry asked what splinched was? Mr. Weasley explained it meant they left part of themselves behind when they disappeared.
Harry went bug eyed in shock, now gaping at all of his limbs as he thought back to his most recent apparition, and how he'd managed to do it with only a gut feeling on how! He felt fortunate to have come out of it unscathed now!
It had taken some work to get them back together, and a lot of paperwork for the Muggle's who had seen the left behind parts.
Harry continued to crinkle up his nose all the more as he pictured that, making the others give half hearted smiles at his expression, grateful themselves he hadn't been hurt by the experience, because they wouldn't have been able to help.
Harry had a sudden vision of a pair of legs and an eyeball lying abandoned on the pavement of Privet Drive.
Yet Harry blinked spastically for a completely different reason at the mention of the eyeball. Something about a singular eye, and his fourth year...the memory fell through the moment he tried to grasp it.
Harry quickly asked if those people were okay, and Mr. Weasley brushed it off, saying they were fixed up fine in the end, but they weren't likely to try it again soon. It was a rare occurrence, most wizards prefered the safer travels like brooms. Harry asked that the three eldest Weasley boys could all do it? Fred happily butted in that it had taken Charlie twice to pass his test, the first time he'd landed five miles away from where he was supposed to be onto some old lady.
Causing the others to do a little snicker of appreciation, making Lily feel a little better about her's. When Harry was looking at them expectantly, clearly hoping they'd share some funny story as well, she sighed, swallowed her pride, and went ahead and admitted, "Charlie's lucky, it took me till my third try to pass."
James had to keep his expression very carefully neutral, he'd paid dearly the last few times he'd laughed at Lily for this.
"The first time, I did splinch myself, and they obviously won't let you pass for that. The second time I somehow wound up five feet in the air and crash landed, sprained my wrist, and also didn't pass. Apparition is not my friend," she finished with a little huff, finishing with a glare at her husband, who was shaking with repressed laughter by the end.
Her then boyfriend had taken the mickey out of her for ages both times, after being appropriately concerned that she was alright of course, but never could seem to resist the expression he held now whenever this came up. It didn't help he'd done it perfectly his first try.
"It took me tell my second try as well," Remus shrugged, "I apparated into the middle of some bar, made some bloks piss themselves in shock. That wasn't very fun for the ministry to fix."
"Can you apparate with animals?" Sirius inserted with interest. The idea had never occurred to him, but now that he knew he was taking care of Buckbeak, he wondered if he was making the hippogriff do all the transportation. Then again, when he'd left, he was 99% sure he hadn't a wand, and he doubted he'd pop into Ollivanders to get one, so maybe he was being too enthusiastic.
"I wouldn't recommend it," Lily frowned in sympathy at him, as they all guessed where his mind had jumped to. "They get to easily startled, I'm positive they could get splinched as well, in fact it would be more likely of the animal and then you'd have a real mess on your hands."
Sirius realized he'd successfully brought the mood back down to a pitying level on himself, and as he in no way wanted that, he instead forced a chipper smile back onto his face and declared, "well fine then, miss know it all, I won't try it. Why don't you get back to reading now, I know you're just stalling for the Cup."
Lily gave him a look that said quite clearly she knew what he was doing, but didn't argue the point either.
Mrs. Weasley came back in time to hear that, and reminded he had passed his second time. George added on that Percy had only passed two weeks ago, and he'd been Apparating into the kitchen every morning to prove it.
"As if he won't be doing the same," James remarked.
Hermione and Ginny came into the kitchen then, and breakfast was consumed before Mr. Weasley tried to start bustling them out the door, saying they had a bit of a walk. Harry asked in shock they were walking to the World Cup? Mr. Weasley began to explain they only had to go a couple of miles, it was difficult after all for wizards to set these types of things up outside of Muggle notice, puts a huge strain on the Ministry- but was cut off by Mrs. Weasley snapping George's name.
Lily managed to pull that tone a little too well, making all four boys jump as well like she'd shot that at them, though she kept reading with a smug smile in place.
He turned back with an innocent expression that no one bought. His mum demanded to know what was in his pocket, and though he tried to deny it, she shout an Accio spell at him, and brightly colored sweets came zooming out of his pocket right into Molly's hand.
They frowned now, feeling sorrow at once for the twins. Of course it wasn't their right to interfere with how Mrs. Weasley dealt with her kids, but they still felt it wasn't fair either for her to be treating them like this. All of them agreed there were certainly far worse things they could be doing with their time then trying to invent joke items to make people laugh.
Lily kept herself going though, knowing there was nothing they could do about it.
She began shouting at them that she'd told them to trash these things, then forced both twins to empty out their pockets. They'd clearly been trying to get out as much as possible,
"Why?" Harry asked with some interest, feeling like he should know the answer anyways, but now hoping just to distract them a bit.
"Were probably going to sell them at the Cup or something," Remus sighed.
and it took Molly using several Accio spells to make them appear out of the lining of their jacket's, and the turn-ups of their pants.
"Inventive," Sirius sighed in pity for the two, Mrs. Weasley wasn't nearly as bad as his mother, but he had a good idea how the twins were feeling towards their own right then, and it wasn't good.
Fred shot back at her that they'd spent months developing those! Mrs. Weasley ignored them as she dropped them in the trash.
"Only tossed them in the bin?" James raised a brow in surprise, "she must know they'll just dig them out later."
"Only six months?" Lily rebutted in surprise. "Those are pretty inventive, I'm genuinely surprised that's only how long it took them."
She snarled back that they could have spent that time studying for their O.W.L.s!
"Ouch," all five of them muttered, wishing she wouldn't keep harping on that.
It was not a happy departure, as Mrs. Weasley tried to give them all a hug goodbye, though the twins ignored this and quickly left without turning to say goodbye.
Harry couldn't help a little creeping feeling up his spine, wondering why that felt ominous to him. Something to do with the World Cup, something that happened there that would upset Mrs. Weasley about this...then he sneezed, losing all trace of the thought.
They all set off into the dark towards the hill. It was still chilly outside, and only the vaguest of pink was in the distance hinting at sunrise. Harry, who had before been thinking that thousands of wizards would be flying towards the Cup,
"Wouldn't say they're not doing that as well," James nodded enthusiastically, "as Arthur said, apparating and Portkeys aren't the only way to travel, and flying's just more fun."
"What are Portkeys?" Harry asked in surprise.
"An object that you can charm to take you anywhere at a set time," Sirius explained. "Like, apparating through using an object. It's much safer though, used for large families, because you don't have to concentrate on anything. You just touch it, and it drags you along."
"That's where you're headed now," James added on, "at least, it makes the most sense why you'd have to be there at a specific time and all this."
jogged forward to talk to Arthur some more, asking how all the Muggle's don't notice this going on? Mr. Weasley explained it took massive coordination through the wizarding channels, they'd had to find a place to set up that was big enough for this congregation, and places like Diagon Alley wouldn't do.
"That would be a sight," Remus snickered at all of that offered mayhem.
They'd found a deserted moor, then spent time setting up the anti-Muggle protective charms. Then they'd had to handle the arrivals, the cheaper the tickets the earlier you had to arrive. Some had to show up two weeks in advance.
Lily whistled in surprise, imagining missing that much work for this game, but it would come with a bit of a camping trip along as well, so it was probably worth the fun.
Some had chosen to take the train and other Muggle transportation, but not to many were allowed, they weren't supposed to be clogging up Muggle buses.
"Plus, we stick out like a sore thumb," Sirius smirked over at James, who definitely was ignoring him now.
There were those who chose to apparate, but most prefered Portkeys. They were used to take large groups all at once at a set time. Over two hundred of them had been set up all around Britain, and their nearest one was up on Stoatshead Hill, where they were headed now. Mr. Weasley gestured to the hill they were approaching, one of the ridges to Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry asked what type of objects Portkeys were?
They all noticed that Harry hadn't asked them that, but he was getting so much better about interrupting them when he did have a question, they decided to let that one go.
Arthur explained they could be anything so long as they were charmed properly, but the items the Ministry chose were throw away things Muggle's would have no want of picking up. In the distance beyond, the sky was just starting to fade from the inky black to the deepest of blue.
Lily couldn't resist the charm in her voice as she read that. Despite begrudging the early rise, she'd never moan about it in person if she'd got to see that beautiful sunrise on top of a hill which Harry was fixing to witness.
Then conversation came to a halt all around as they reached the hill and began to climb. It was a steep hill, and they made it up mostly through rabbit rolls and thick tufts of grass. By the time he'd reached the ridge, Harry could feel sharp pains in his chest.
"Dang, and you lot are all in shape," Remus said in surprise. "Imagine someone elderly, or some little kids trying to make that trek."
"I'm sure someone could help magic them up," James shrugged, "Arthur just didn't because he didn't have a need to."
Conversation wasn't picked back up as they all began spreading out, looking for this supposed unobscured Portkey, but were hailed down by a man calling out to Arthur. They walked over and Mr. Weasley introduced him as Amos Diggory, who worked for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Remus couldn't help but stiffen a little in unease, stupidly yes, but he'd always had an instinctual fear of that department.
Lily noticed, and though she felt a wash of sympathy for him, she didn't break to say anything, knowing it would only embarrass him.
And they all knew Cedric of course.
"Wasn't that the Hufflepuff from last year?" Sirius asked with his head cocked to the side.
Harry felt an odd stirring in the pit of his stomach, unable to stop a frown as he heard that name again. He'd felt something the first time as well, the ghost of a feeling he knew he should have at the name, but it was so hard to hold on to. The most dominant thing was his fourteen year old agitation that this bloke had beaten him out at Quidditch, rightly and had even tried to correct himself when he found out how, but he was the reason Harry lost his first match none the less.
 There was something else there though, something he desperately knew he needed to remember about Cedric...but all he was getting for his trouble was a terrible mounting headache, one he knew would only get worse if he pressed on this. He had to blink a few times to realize the others had been watching him with a touch of concern, and he tried for an easy smile as he said, "just, trying to not remember something. There's something about Cedric, this year in particular, I don't know what," he finished with a helpless shrug, unable to elaborate.
"You probably face him in Quidditch again or something," James happily offered.
"Maybe you're trying to remember that you beat the dickens out of him this round," Remus smirked.
Harry gave him an unenthusiastic smile back, knowing quite well that wasn't it, but at a loss for what it could be.
Lily kept frowning at her son for a moment longer, she didn't even recognize that expression her son held while he tried to remember this, but it gave her a foreboding feeling. Knowing there was nothing for it though but to let it come back naturally, she decided to keep reading.
Harry's mental dialogue kicked in as he described Cedric Diggory as an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen.
"Extremely handsome eh?" Sirius couldn't help but tease, still looking for a way to get rid of that look on Harry's face the boy didn't even seem to realize he was holding. "Maybe we were wrong in saying you fancy Hermione."
Harry rolled his eyes good naturedly at the teasing, but still seemed to distracted to really say anything back, leaving them all just that little bit more uneasy.
He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team at Hogwarts. He greeted them politely enough, but no one gave a very enthusiastic reply. Fred and George in particular didn't look very happy to see him, having taken his team's win over theirs personally last year.
"And rightly so," James nodded seriously, having held onto a few grudges as well of perfectly friendly people who had the gall to beat him as well.
Lily wanted to smack him, knowing he was mostly kidding, but not wanting Harry to get the idea otherwise. One glance at him though showed he was still only half listening at best.
Amos continued talking to Arthur, asking how far they'd had to walk, saying he'd had to get up at two just to make it. He wasn't complaining of course, this was the Quidditch World Cup! He wouldn't miss this for a sack of gold, which was how much their tickets cost. He'd gotten off easy though, he amended as he glanced at their group. Asking if all of those kids were Arthur's? Mr. Weasley corrected only the redheads.
"That doesn't drop the count by much," Lily muttered.
Pointing out first Hermione, then Harry as Ron's friends, but Amos cut him off as his eyes latched onto Harry, exclaiming his full name in surprise.
"No, Harry Houdini," Remus grumbled, his along with everyone else's eyes narrowing with distaste at Harry's fame being brought up like that again, most annoyingly by an adult who should know a little better.
Harry was plenty distracted now, finally snapping himself away from whatever reason Cedric's name was bothering him, to begin blushing and looking embarrassed all over again at the mention of his full name like that.
Harry agreed, far too used to the way the man's eyes darted to his hairline to find that lightning scar, but it always made him uncomfortable. Amos began talking loudly about how his Ced had mentioned him, how they'd played Quidditch last year and his son had gotten the better of him! Amos had praised Cedric, telling him that was a story to tell his grandkids, he'd beat Harry Potter!
"That was his take-away?" James scowled. "Not that his son tried to call a redo when he found out!"
"Guess we're lucky Cedric hasn't turned into a Malfoy," Sirius muttered with distaste. So what if that was a bit harsh, his comment had stung.
Harry couldn't think of anything to say back to that, while he saw the twin's scowl deepened. Cedric looked very embarrassed now as he tried to curb his dad, saying that Harry had fallen off, it had all been an accident.
"Do I somehow get the feeling they've had this conversation before?" Remus sighed with pity.
"Least Cedric isn't acting like that," Lily nodded in agreement.
Mr. Diggory was not listening, continuing to boast about how his son had stayed on while the Boy Who Lived had fallen off, clearly it was obvious who the better flier is!
All four of them were starting to get more then agitated now, not at all appreciating the reminder of what had made Harry fall off his broom! Let's see Cedric hear the echo of his dead mother and see how well he hangs on! None of them could bring themselves to shout that though, as it wasn't Cedric saying this, but his father who was simply acting like a pompous, but proud father. They just hoped that stupid Portkey would be activating, soon.
Arthur quickly jumped in now, looking anxiously at his watch as he said it must be nearly time for them to leave.
"Least he's being perceptive," Lily grumbled.
Then he asked if they were to be expecting anyone else? Amos said he knew the Lovegoods
Harry started blinking spastically, there it was all over again, a name he was sure he recognized. At least this time he was positive of the feeling it caused him, a nice warmth that meant he was sure he liked whoever that name was attached to. He didn't linger on it though, as he'd had enough of a headache this chapter from Cedric and his dad.
were already there, and the Fawcetts hadn't got tickets. That was all in the area. Mr. Weasley agreed, then the eleven of them all crouched around the boot/portkey, all putting a finger on it. Harry had a sudden realization how odd this would be for a Muggle to walk into, seeing all of these people crouched around a manky old shoe at sunrise.
Lily and Remus at least couldn't help light snickering at this description Harry was painting, while James and Sirius didn't get it. They'd grown up so that this wasn't even close to odd to them, but sometimes for Lily and Remus at least, the magical and blasé' way wizards did or didn't realize something was off still amused them.
Mr. Weasley was still looking at his watch as he kept a finger in place, counting down, and the moment he struck one, Harry felt a hard jerk behind his navel and was yanked off his feet.
Harry couldn't help going a little round eyed in shock, placing his hand carefully on his stomach to remind himself that feeling washing back over him was not rehappening to him now, causing both boys on either side of him to start laughing this time.
He was flying through nothing, sounds and sights being ripped away as he sped forward to fast, his finger glued to that boot without his permission, then he was slammed back into the ground, Ron falling hard on his butt on his other side, the Portkey tumbling away. Harry blinked and came back to himself to find Arthur, Amos, and Cedric still on their feet, though looking slightly tossed around. Everyone else was on the ground with him.
Harry had been feeling a little abashed at once hearing that Cedric had clearly stayed on his feet, but then it melted away at once as clearly he wasn't the only one put off by this mode of travel. James still noticed the expression and gave him a small nudge muttering, "don't worry, Remus still falls down more than half the time with those to. They are not a comfortable ride to get used to."
Harry gave him a grateful smile at once.
Then a stranger's voice called out the time as seven past five from Stoatshead Hill.
"That's the end of the chapter," Lily shrugged, giving the book a toss to James.
"Man these are short," James noted.
"Yeah, all the more buildup," Sirius reminded eagerly, already rubbing his hands together in anticipation, knowing that Cup wasn't going to come fast enough.
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sleepydew-valley · 4 years
Text
Quanrantined Shane: Day 3
Day 1
Day 2
So I know I haven’t updated this story in forever, but why not try and continue it right before I started SDV artober and also while doing university. I mean how else am I supposed to feel too much responsibility and stress and make myself more miserable than necessary [insert nervous laughter]. 
Anyway, previous part of the stories can be read in the links above. Hope you enjoy. 
Also, @dragonindigo245 I didn’t see you reply until recently, but you asked to be tagged in case I updated it. So here you go if you’re still interested.
Day 3 
Nico opted for letting Jas join him in his farm routine. At first, he thought he had to change his entire schedule for Jas, but she seemed excited about joining him. At least she wanted to feed all the animals and luckily for him it was still a sunny day, so they could be let outside while Jas played around with them which made it easy to keep an eye on her while he plowed the field for his future crops. He had already sowed some of the first seeds as soon as the ground was ready for it. Winter had been hard and next time he would try to prepare for it better.
Eventually Jas also became interested in what Nico was doing, and seeing as she loved flowers, he gave her the Blue spangle seeds he had left over from last spring. They made a tiny field for Jas to take care of on her own, and Nico promised she was welcome back to water it even after she went back to the ranch.
Once it was noon and time for lunch, Shane called them, and Jas had to tell him about all the fun they had had on the farm. She immediately wanted to show the field of seeds she had just planted and ran out with the phone, so Nico had to run after her and coach her back inside, but it was too late she had already soiled her hands in the dirt.
“Nico said these are my flowers.” She said excitedly. ”Soon I will have grown beautiful flowers, just like Nico does.”
“They’ll probably be the most beautiful flowers in the valley.” Shane said. “You have to remember to listen to Nico when you’re taking care of them, okay?”
Jas nodded enthusiastically and finally Nico was able to bring her inside again. He had to admit he loved Jas and Shane’s interactions together.
He sent Jas out to wash her hands again so she could help with preparing for lunch. She handed the phone over to him and Nico propped it up against the wall of the kitchen counter, so Shane could still see what they were doing.
“It’s only the first day and she already loves it.” Shane said with a smile.
Nick felt embarrassed but somehow happy at the same time. He was only happy to hear Jas was enjoying her time here, but to see Shane’s reaction to it was even better.
"You have to remind her about her homework. She usually finishes it quickly, but when she's excited she tends to forget it." Shane said.
"Got it." Nico said. "Anything else?"
"Do you mind walking her to the library tomorrow?"
"Of course not." Nico said. "I expected that much for when I send her to school tomorrow."
"Great. Normally she can walk alone but seeing as she would be walking from your farm, I just want to make sure everything is okay and she gets a feel of how long it takes from there."
Nico nodded.
"Also, Marnie will be stopping by later."
"What?"
He stopped his movement and that's when Jas entered the kitchen.
"I'm ready now." She said.
Nico strained a smile as he found a small stool for her to stand on for her to reach the counter.
"Hey, sweetie!" Shane said. "Aunt Marnie told me she would stop by later to check on you."
Jas was excited by the news. Much more than Nico. It made sense Marnie would stop by and Jas probably also preferred her Aunt to come. She probably wanted to share her day with her Aunt since it was the first day at Nico’s farm.
Nico wasn't sure why it freaked him out. He was on good terms with Marnie. He also knew Jas meant a lot to both Shane and Marnie and of course they weren't going to let her be taken care by some random villager without at least checking to see if she was doing okay.
"Did she by any chance mention when she would stop by?" Nico said, trying to hide his panic.
Shane merely shrugged his shoulder as an answer, which wasn’t really helpful.
Could he take deep calming breaths without anyone noticing? Did anyone notice he was panicking? He wasn't sure why he was panicking. It felt like a test. It felt like Marnie thought he wasn't capable. Maybe he wasn't good enough to take care of Jas. Maybe they were just waiting for the right moment to take Jas away from him again. Did Nico have to prepare anything for Marnie? Was she going to join them for dinner? Would she be angry if the farm was a mess? It was now Nico realized he wasn’t all that close with this family and Jas was his responsibility now, and if Marnie took her away today it meant he had failed. It meant he probably wouldn’t be able to talk to them again – he needed to calm down. He shouldn’t spiral like this.
“Jas, can you set the table?” Nico asked.
He pointed her to the directions of the plates and she happily hopped down the stool and went to fulfill her given task.
“hey, are you okay?” Shane asked.
Nico simply nodded.
“you sure?”
This time Nico put on a smile. “Yes. I’m fine, it’s nothing really.”
It was nothing. It was a stupid thing to worry about. He took a deep breath and then tried to be more convincing when he told Shane again he was fine. He was fine. He could handle Marnie coming over and checking up on Jas. He also wanted the best for her and if he wasn’t good enough at taking care of her, then there was no reason for her to stay here. Instead of worrying about the outcome of her visit, he just had to focus on having a good time with Jas and Marnie once she came over.
****
Marnie decided to stop by right before dinner. She hadn’t planned on staying to eat, but Nico felt it was would rude to send her away without eating anything. Also, he had sort of planned for her eat with them, so he had made too much spaghetti for him and Jas to eat alone, which was a convincing enough argument for her to stay.
During the dinner he had called Shane, so he could feel like he was also a part of the dinner.
Jas talked about everything they had done on the farm, mostly how she was allowed to feed the chickens and she got to see how the cow was milked. All things she also did on the ranch, but maybe it felt different for her because it was someplace else. Although Nico hadn’t let her work with the tools, she took part in sowing the crops. At least a few them and that she took pride in, when she watered them. She said she would water them every day until they had finished growing.
Although Marnie had never explicitly said it, the only reason she had come by was because she needed to check on Jas. She almost seemed a bit disappointed when Jas was enjoying her time on the farm. Marnie had looked around the house, but Nico had already cleaned it to the best of his abilities and tidied the few places that were too messy. Jas was sleeping on his bed, where he had changed the sheets to clean ones, and he had taken out the madras he had in the beginning to sleep on himself for the time being. There was also space for the Jas to play with the toys she had brought, which she took out after they had eaten dinner. She had done her homework after they ate lunch. There was nothing for Marnie to complain about and for some reason she seemed to not like that fact.
At least she left in a good mood though. She cheerfully said goodbye to Jas and thank Nico again for taking on this responsibility.
When it was time for Jas to sleep, they called Shane again or rather they turned their attention back to Shane again as they had never hung up since dinner. Jas asked for a bedtime story which seemed to have surprised Shane. It probably wasn’t something she asked for a lot if ever. But Shane still said yes to her request and he managed to come up with something. It was clear he was improvising the whole thing, but Jas still loved it. Eventually she fell asleep.
Nico had barely noticed Jas was sleeping, it wasn’t until Shane stopped telling his story and he looked over at Jas to see she was fast asleep.
“It usually takes a lot more to get her to sleep.” Shane said. “She must have used a lot of energy today.”
“Yeah.” Nico said. “She has been running around all day and it’s a new place. I’m sure she’s exhausted.”
Shane smiled, but then his face turned serious.
“Hey, so I’ve meant to ask you something.” He said. “But something seemed kind of off with you today?”
Nico crawled out of the bed and went over to his own madras.
“What do you mean?” Nico said. “Everything is fine.”
“It just seemed you were a little bothered with Marnie’s visit, that’s all.” Shane said.
Nico shook his head and tried to put on a sincere smile. Except it was a lie. He was bothered. But he knew it was stupid he was bothered, and he wasn’t about to tell Shane that he was person who freaked out over stupid small things.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say if that was the case then Marnie probably didn’t mean anything with it. She just misses Jas, so any excuse to see her girl.” Shane said. “Actually, I’m sure she’s disappointed she doesn’t have a good enough reason to take Jas with her. She seemed almost annoyed with how well you were taking care of Jas.”
Shane chuckled at his own comment and Nico couldn’t help but smile. Shane was trying to calm him down and comfort him.
“Seriously, you are taking good care of her, Marnie and I are grateful for it.”
“It’s no problem, she makes the job very easy.” Nico said.
Shane looked at him with such warm eyes. Nico suddenly felt warm. He tried to suppress his smile. It wasn’t a big deal that Shane had just reassured him in the sweetest way possible. He realized he was being embarrassingly giddy.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, I think it’s time to sleep now. We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Shane barely got a chance to say goodbye before Nico hung up the phone. He put a hand over his heart as he felt it beating too fast in his chest. He shook his head, feeling the smile come on again when he thought about Shane’s words and how he had looked him. He tried to get rid of the smile, but it seemed impossible. This was pride. Pride of being able to take good care of Jas. Nothing more than that.
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drabbles-of-writing · 4 years
Text
Can We Keep Him? (pt 3)
This is part of my Uncursed AU
AO3
Masterpost
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
For the first few weeks, their routine worked.
Eda would open the portal to the human realm, warn King to be careful, and have him go at it for about an hour before reopening the door and sorting through whatever he had collected.
The first day King mostly only got food, and Eda could barely sell any of it. Half because it was too disgusting by Boiling Isles standards and half because King kept eating it.
The second day King grabbed anything he could that looked vaguely like a crown. Eda made him sell each and every one, much to his distress. She did, however, save a silver and blue plastic tiara that she gave to King, who was thrilled. Even if his crowns never lasted very long, it was worth it to see him so happy.
The third day King didn’t make it back to the portal because he had been caught by the human version of animal control and Eda had to break him out.
But aside from those hiccups and a few others, it went fine.
So fine, in fact, that Eda was nearing enough money to finally get a place of her own instead of crashing at Lilith’s and sometimes her dads when Lilith accidentally locked the doors.
Things were starting to look up...almost.
,
King was absolutely, positively, not worried.
It was un-kingly like for the King of Demons to be worried about a witch.
No, he wasn’t worried.
Simply...curious. Wondering. Questioning.
“Have you seen Eda?” King exclaimed, jumping up onto some poor unsuspecting witches table, scaring the life out of them. “She’s tall, I think, with hair that looks like a rats nest on fire, usually causing trouble and scamming people?”
“Beat it, you overgrown rat!” A second witch at the stand snapped, swinging a broom at the demon.
King yelped and leapt off the table, hitting the ground awkwardly before scuttling further into the marketplace.
“Have you seen Eda?” He asked a passing cyclops, clinging to his leg. “The witch who sells human collectibles? Looks like she probably stole your wallet?”
“Get off!” The cyclops demanded, kicking out his leg and sending King right back to eating the dirt.
King sprung right back up, fiddling his paws together as he rushed down the marketplace, asking any witch, demon, or vaguely-sentient being if they’d seen Eda. Most brushed him off, others only shook their heads.
Normally, King wouldn’t be so worr--er, inquisitive about where Eda was. She had a new place she set up shop every day, and it was always fun to hunt her down in the morning.
But Eda had told him where she was going to be this time. Right smack in the middle of the marketplace, so to sell more stuff today.
She wasn’t there. Or anywhere, for that matter.
Not a single sign, disgruntled customer, nothing. Eda rarely missed a day to sell. And whenever she did, she would always make sure to tell King beforehand. He had to be extra careful with his crown of the week when she wasn’t around to replace it, after all.
King swore he’d searched the whole marketplace from top to bottom three times around. He couldn’t find Eda anywhere.
It was nearing afternoon, and he was getting tired.
“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie,” his most recent inquiry said sympathetically. “Maybe she was just sick today. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Yeah...yeah! That must be it!” King said. “Eda’s just sick. I’ll see her tomorrow.”
“There you go,” The nice lady smiled. “Run along now, you look tired.” “Oh you have no idea,” King agreed. “Thanks, random minion!” He called before turning and trotting back through the marketplace.
Of course Eda was sick! It made perfect sense. She wouldn’t dare to come near the King of Demons if she thought she could infect him. No subject would wish that upon their ruler.
Still, he’d make sure Eda found him the best crown tomorrow. He broke his weird circle crown yesterday and was anxious for a new one.
It wasn’t long before King made it out of the marketplace and began making his way to the playground. It had become his kingdom, since it was close to the marketplace and he got to survey his land from the top. Though the small raiders were always a nuisance.
The things King put up with for that witch.
As he wandered down the street, he passed a row of old broken benches. Not many people took this route towards town, since it had yet to be fixed from a rogue Slitherbeast attack and was faced with only the backs of houses.
So King was rather surprised when he saw a witch sitting on one of the benches, knees curled up to her chest and face hidden under a nest of orange hair.
Wait a second…
“Eda!” King cried, racing on all fours across the ground to the bench. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Eda jerked her head up, strands of hair rumpled and sticking out everywhere. Her eyes were wide and...King would dare say hurt.
King paused, one jump away from leaping onto the bench beside the witch. He blinked up at her, now noticing that her face was very damp.
“...Eda?” King asked, quieter now.
“King! Ah, sorry, sorry,” Eda sniffled and quickly wiped a sleeve over her eyes. “Took me a minute. I, ah, I missed opening the shop, didn’t I?” She said, giving a small strained smile.
King thought he preferred her old smile better.
“Missed it? It’s noon!” King exclaimed, crawling up onto the bench beside Eda. “I thought you were sick or something.”
“Sorry, pip-squeak.” Eda said, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t realize the time.”
King sat in silence for a few moments, his little legs splayed out as he looked at the stone street before looking back at Eda. She was staring off again, arms crossed on top of her knees with her chin resting on them. She looked like she was about to cry.
“Not that I’m worried or anything, but...” King hesitated a moment before placing a paw on her arm. “Are you okay?”
Eda gazed down at King for a moment before sniffling and a fresh wave of tears spilled from her eyes.
“...no,” She said, shoulders hunched as she buried her face in her legs again, trembling with choked back sobs.
Well this wasn’t something King was prepared for.
King flinched back, looking around for anything that could help him. But nobody else was around. Just the open, broken street.
So, with nothing else to really do, King pushed his head underneath Eda’s arms, startling her. He wormed his way into her lap, which was a very cramped space at the moment, and lay across it. His limbs were hanging off at an awkward angle, and his head was smooshed between her legs and body, but it didn’t feel right to complain.
“Is, uh,” King glanced up at the young witch. “Is this better?”
Eda stared before she let out a weak chuckle, the shaking of her body jostling King a bit. She lowered her legs, freeing King of his prison, and wrapped her arms around him instead, bringing the small demon closer to her chest.
“Yeah, that helps.” Eda said quietly, stroking a hand down King’s back.
King was stiff as cardboard before, worrying any movement would mess it all up. Once he felt Eda petting his fur, however, he visibly relaxed and became loose like a noodle.
“Oh, this is nice,” King purred.
Eda giggled slightly and brought one of her arms underneath King to hold him steady and pet him with her other hand, smiling as he curled closer to her to get more pets.
“Thanks, King.” Eda said softly, scratching at where his skull met his fur.
“Don’t mention it,” King said, still happy from the pets. “...again, not that I care, but,” King paused again and flicked his tail. “Did something bad happen?”
Eda went still for a moment. King, admittedly, got worried again. Fine, so maybe he cared. What of it?
“Just my dad.” Eda said, stroking her hand along King’s back again. “He thinks he knows everything and...well, he thinks I’m doing things wrong. Just an argument that got out of hand. I can always crash at Lilith’s, anyway.”
“I thought you liked your dad?” King looked up at her, turning over on his side for Eda to pet there.
“I do, I do.” Eda agreed, relentining in scratching his stomach, making him twitch and kick out a leg happily. “But...he sometimes...isn’t all that great. ” She said, eyes glazed over in thought.
“He’s a good person...but sometimes I wonder what it would be like if my mom was still around.”
King opened his eyes from his momentary bliss, and Eda’s hand slowed as well. He squirmed in her arm a bit so he was sitting up and lay his chin on her shoulder in an attempt of being comforting.
“Sorry,” King said quietly.
“Don’t be. I’ll be alright.” Eda lay a hand across his back to hold him there. “If anything, I should apologize to you. I don’t normally info-dump my life to demons I work with.”
“I don’t mind,” King said, standing in her arms and placing his paws on her one shoulder. “I mean, I am the King of Demons. It’s only natural that I must inspire my subjects when all seems lost.” He said, placing a paw on his chest.
“Whatever you say, weirdo.” Eda rolled her eyes.
She looked away for a moment, staring off at the silence and nothingness around them both.
“But I guess I’m a weirdo too, huh?” She said, giving him a smile.
“Eh, everyone’s a little weird.” King shrugged, laying back down in her arms once more. “You sell human junk and refuse to join a coven, I live at a very small kingdom, that one weird lady down the street calls herself Tiny Nose--”
“A small kingdom?” Eda cut in, sounding amused.
“Yeah, back where you gave me my first crown.” King explained.
“You live at the playground?” She gasped, all amusement lost in an instant.
“I prefer the name ‘King’s Kingdom,’ thank you.” King said. “Wait, that doesn’t sound right…”
“Alright, that settles it.” Eda said, picking up King from under his arms and holding the demon in front of her face. “I have seen what nightmares those kids are at the playground, and if I’m being honest, I feel really guilty letting you sleep on the streets.”
“My kingdom is not ‘the streets!’” King grumbled. “But continue.”
“I’m going to be buying my own place soon, and at this point, I’ll likely be living with Lilith for the next week or two.” Eda said. “So, as a…” She thought about her words for a moment. “A token of my gratitude, how would you like to sleep with an actual roof over your head?”
“I get to live with you?” King blurted, wiggling happily from his place in the air.
“I take that as confirmation that you want to?” Eda laughed, setting the demon back down on her lap.
“Yes! I always wanted to see what the inside of those houses looked like!” King jumped up and down in her lap. “Is it true you have fresh uneaten food?” He asked, his eyes practically sparkling.
“Bud, you don’t know the half of it.” Eda said, picking up King again and getting to her feet. “But it’s only just past noon. Why don’t we try and sell the scraps you got from yesterday first?”
“Fine, if you insist.” King muttered, huffing as Eda began carrying him back to the marketplace. “But I deserve two new crowns, you hear me? I spent all morning looking for you! It was exhausting.”
“Of course, of course.” Eda nodded. “Anything for a king.”
,
Getting Lilith to let King stay, however, was going to be a lot harder than selling a few human trinkets.
Which is why Eda didn’t plan on letting her know right away.
“I am a king! Why do I have to be smuggled in like some common thief?” King huffed, hiding in Eda’s arm in a cloak she had been recently using to hide from any nosy guards.
“Because Lilith isn’t keen on getting a third roommate.” Eda replied, walking down the roads towards Lilith’s Emperor Coven mandated flat. “She already complains enough about getting food for the both of us.”
“If it’s such a hassle, why does she let you stay?” King wondered. “You said she was in the Emperor’s Coven, didn’t you?”
“She may be annoyed by it, but we’re still sisters.” Eda said. “She promised that when we made it to the Emperor’s Coven, we could get a place of our own. We love our dad, he’s not exactly...well-off.”
“But you’re not in the Emperor’s Coven. Didn’t you say you were covenless?” King pointed out.
“Eh, dreams change.” Eda shrugged. “Now keep quiet. For now, you’ll hide in my room. I’ll just have to warm up Lilith to the idea of you.”
She stopped in front of the door of one of the small, stone houses. It was far too close to Emperor Belos’ castle for her liking.
Luckily for her, she didn’t have to stick around for too much longer.
Eda held the front of her cloak closed with one hand, holding King under her arm with the other. Taking a deep breath, she opened the front door, which was thankfully unlocked, and slipped inside.
She barely made it ten feet into the door before she was hounded.
“Eda!” Lilith exclaimed, bolting from around the kitchen corner and rushing over. “I heard what happened with dad,” She said and Eda visibility recoiled. “I’m so, so sorry. You know he didn’t really mean it, right?”
“Maybe not that harshly...but I think a part of him did mean it.” Eda mumbled, stepping around her sister. “What are you doing back? It’s barely dusk.”
“I managed to get in a good word and cut my training short,” Lilith said. “I should be free tomorrow to help you sell that junk at the marketplace, too.” She said happily.
“Excuse you,” Eda huffed, tightening her hold on King as he squirmed. “I prefer the term ‘human collectibles.’” She said with a teasing glint in her eye. “Helps sell it a lot easier to suckers off the street.”
“Whatever makes you feel better.” Lilith rolled her eyes. “Are you hungry? I got some bloodrain noodles from the pitstop a few streets over.”
“Oh, uh, actually...I already ate.” Eda lied, looking everywhere but at her sister. “Hey, remember when I mentioned I met a funny little demon two weeks ago?”
“Yeah…? Why’s this come up? You haven’t spoken of him since then.” Lilith said, raising a brow. “Did he get you in trouble?”
“No, no, not like that at all.” Eda insisted. “But, what if, hypothetically, he didn’t have a place to stay? And I could, I don’t know...share my food with him?”
It was a long shot, she knew. But hiding King of all people in a flat as cramped as this would be next to impossible without trying it the easy way first.
Lilith narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, glaring at her sister.
“What’s in the cloak, Eda?”
“What? Pssh, nothing, nothing at all.” Eda said, pulling it closer around herself as King stiffened up. “I was just wondering what you’d think. Testing the waters a bit, you know?”
“Take off your cloak, Eda.”
“Why? It’s my cloak, and I can do what I want with it.” Eda said, stepping back and giving Lilith a firm look. “And you can’t make me.”
Lilith uncrossed one hand and drew a circle in the air. Eda’s cloak suddenly lit up before going flying across the room and out of her grip as it hit a wall before sliding to the ground.
King, who was currently being carried like a football, blinked at the sudden light and craned his neck to look up at Lilith.
“Huh, I guess wild hair runs in the family.”
“Edalyn!” Lilith accused.
“What else was I supposed to do? Let him live on a playground full of screaming kids?” Eda demanded, re situating King so he was curled up in her arms like a baby. “Come on, Lilith, he’s not even that big!”
“Eda, I understand your worries,” Lilith exhaled, pressing her hands together in front of her face like she was trying to steel herself. “But I can’t extend my generosity to random stray demons you find.”
"Hey!” King cried indignantly. “I’ll have you know I am the King of Demons! You should be honored to house me.”
“And you found a delusional one, too?” Lilith groaned.
“Alright, hey, that’s a bit harsh.” Eda defended, laying a hand over King. “So what if he’s a little weird? I am too! Besides, he’ll only be here to sleep. The rest of the time he’ll be helping me sell in the market.”
“Edalyn, please,” Lilith rubbed at her temples. “I’m having a hard enough time at the Emperor’s Coven, I can’t worry about a demon you’ve gotten attached to.”
At that, King looked up at Eda, almost seeming surprised. Eda sighed, shoulders sagging.
She got a sudden idea and perked up. She slowly held out King like a doll in front of Lilith’s face, a smile growing on her face.
When Lilith opened her eyes, she was immediately greeted with a confused King staring back at her.
“But he’s so cute,” Eda whimpered, giving her sister a pleading look.
“I am not cute!” King squeaked, kicking about as Eda giggled.
“You should hear him when he’s mad,” Eda said, lowering King but still holding him. “He’s got a squeak of rage. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” She grinned.
“You can’t buy me with cuteness,” Lilith crossed her arms and turned her head away.
“Aw, please?” Eda tried, sliding up beside her sister and holding King in front of her again. “I promise to take full responsibility for this little brat.”
“Responsibility! Ha! As if I cause trouble everywhere I go.” King snorted.
Eda knew very well how true that was, and thankfully had enough self-control to keep her mouth shut.
Lilith cracked open an eye, and Eda gave the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could muster.
“Please?” She begged. “I’ll be moving out soon, anyway. You won’t even know he was here!”
Lilith curled her lip and glared for a few moments. Her eyes shifted between Eda’s begging face and King’s naively hopeful one.
Lilith sighed and uncrossed her arms, letting her head hang back.
“Fine,”
“WOO!” Eda pumped a fist in the air, almost dropping King. “You won’t regret this, Lily. I promise!”
“I better not.” She warned, though her tone held no real malice.
“Huzzah!” King cheered. “Does this mean I can have uneaten food now?”
“Buddy, you can have as much uneaten food as you want.” Eda grinned.
“From your share, Edalyn.” Lilith sternly reminded her.
“...you can have almost as much uneaten food as you’d like.” Eda corrected herself. “C’mon, I think I have some scream bars in the pantry.”
“I have no idea what those are, but I am ready!” King agreed as Eda set him down and raced into the kitchen, the demon following after her.
Lilith watched her sister vanish around the corner, talking excitedly with the demon as she took her own food to feed to him.
As much as Lilith didn’t want another mouth she’d inevitably be feeding…she couldn’t help but feel happy.
It was worth it, if only to see that smile on Eda’s face.
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evilmuffinlord · 4 years
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Fun in the Sun
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The seventh and final story from the IzuMina week prompts is finally complete. Thanks for reading, and I hope you all enjoy it!
Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704671 Or on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13530836/7/IzuMina-Week-2020
Izuku was deep in concentration as he worked on his hero analysis volume, updating the section on Tokoyami in light of his recent improvements in controlling Dark Shadow, when he was suddenly squished into his seat as Mina clambered on top of him, eager to stare out the window.
“Woohoo!” she shouted, pressing herself bodily against the window, “It’s the ocean!”
“Ashido, please calm yourself and return to a proper sitting position!” Iida chastised, “Such a position is not safe while the train is in motion! Also, you’re hurting Midoriya.”
“Sorry Izuku,” Mina said, crawling back to her seat and giving him a quick hug in apology, ”Got a little excited.”
“It’s fine,” Izuku replied, straightening the notebook page a little. His last sentence had gotten a little smudged, but it was still fairly legible and that was what mattered.
“Is this your first time visiting the ocean?” Uraraka asked from across the aisle, chuckling at her friend’s antics.
“Nah,” Mina replied, “My family comes out to visit every year or so. But this is the first time I’m coming with friends, so I’m super excited! It’s time for a week of nothing but sun, sand, and good times!”
“And swimsuits!” Mineta called from a few rows back, “Don’t forget the swimsuits!”
The tell tale smack of Tsuyu’s tongue impacting his head echoed through the train car, causing everyone who wasn’t from UA to wince. The students didn’t even blink, though. They were perfectly used to it by now.
“Ashido, we are not going to some resort!” Iida said, craning his neck over his seat in order to lecture her, “We are attending an ocean-side facility for the purposes of training. As such, we should all comport ourselves with the dignity befitting future heroes, and not slack off!”
“No way!” Mina said, crossing her arms defiantly, “We didn’t get to do any fun stuff at the last camp, even before it got attacked. I’m not missing out again! Especially with how hard I worked to get here. I’ll train with everyone else, but the second we’re done I’m heading down to the beach and cracking open a watermelon or two!”
“Mina,” Izuku said gently, “It’s an isolated island that UA uses exclusively for training camps. I don’t think you’re going to be able to buy a watermelon.”
In response, she raised an eyebrow and pointed her thumb back towards where the rest of their class was sitting. 
“Did you see how many suitcases Yaomomo brought? She’s absolutely got a watermelon in there somewhere, or enough supplies to grow one.”
Yaoyorozu had indeed brought quite a bit of luggage, though most of it was not for her own use. Two of her three suitcases were dedicated to supplies that the rest of their class might have forgotten to bring, such as sunscreen, insect netting, and even a few sleeping bags. It was probably overkill, especially given that she could produce most of the items herself on demand, but it was the thought that counted. She seemed to genuinely enjoy looking after their class like a mother hen, and Izuku wasn’t going to criticize her for that.
“It is true that you successfully passed your exams this year, Ashido,” Iida said, not one to be easily deterred when it came to encouraging what he viewed as proper behavior, “But that does not mean you can relax in place of training.”
“I won’t,” she assured, “I just wanna have fun, you know? Let my hair down a little. UA is all training and tests. This is our chance to live a little.”
“Mina’s right,” Uraraka chimed in, surprising all of them, “The training camp is important, and we should all do our best, but it has been a long time since we all had fun together. And isn’t de-stressing an important part of keeping ourselves fit?”
Iida looked like he wanted to argue the point for a bit longer, but was interrupted by Aizawa before he could continue.
"Training camp lasts a week, but our ferry back to the mainland isn't for nine days. Behave yourselves, work hard, and the last two are free days. Not my decision, but orders are orders. Now stop arguing so I can get some sleep before we get to the station."
Considering that their train was due to arrive in less than 15 minutes, that seemed unlikely, but Aizawa had impressed them all with his napping skills before.
"Vindicatioooon!" Mina cried, pumping her fist into the air. 
The action earned her a pair of glowers from Aizawa and Iida, but Izuku could only shake his head. The fact that Mina was planning some fun in the sun came as no surprise to him. It had been all she talked about for the past week or so, particularly once their exams had ended.
He didn't begrudge her one bit. She'd worked as hard as anyone else in the class during the build up, and while her grades still hadn't been stellar, they had been a marked improvement over last year's. She'd even passed her practical exam with flying colors, despite having one of the tougher scenarios to complete. 
“You know,” Uraraka said thoughtfully, pressing a finger to her chin and cocking her head, “We might not be feeling up to playing around after all that training. Remember how tough that last camp was?”
“Training schmaining!” Mina replied, “We’re way stronger than we were last year. This camp’s going to be a breeze!”
 ---
After a week of training, they were all singing a very different tune. The training had been absolutely brutal, even worse than last year’s daily Quirk training. Strength training, cardio, sparring, mock rescues, and hazardous terrain exploration were all daily occurrences, with more specialized training depending on individual student’s areas of expertise afterwards.
Several times throughout the week, Izuku had found himself looking back fondly on his training sessions with Tiger. Back then, he’d only had to worry about one wily opponent, rather than a whole group.
Mina was easily as exhausted as he was, and twice as prickly from overuse of her Quirk. Not even the special lotion that she normally used to help with skin irritation had been enough to completely eliminate the strain.
Now they were finally done with the training camp, and instead of dashing off to the beach everyone was sitting around the common room of the temporary dorms they had been staying in. They couldn’t muster the energy to get changed out of their hero costumes, let alone to go splash in the waves.
“Urrrgh,” Mina groaned, “My everything hurts.”
“Preaching to the choir,” Jirou replied.
“It’s proof that we have worked hard, and improved ourselves,” Iida said, his heart obviously not in the lecture.
“It sucks,” Mina said, “What’s the point of having a free day if we can’t enjoy it?”
“I’m just enjoying not having to do any more push-ups,” Kaminari groaned. 
There was a long pause filled with only the occasional grunt of pain as someone shifted in position, before Mina, through a supreme act of will, clambered slowly to her feet. The sheer audacity of the act drew every set of eyes in the room, which was probably what she wanted in the first place.
“You know what?” Mina said, spinning slowly in place so she could meet each pair of eyes, “Screw that. I worked hard this week, and I’m not gonna let some sore muscles keep me from having fun. So I  am  going down to that beach, and I  am going to have an amazing day. Anyone else who wants to come is free to join me. C’mon Izuku!”
“Huh?” Izuku said, completely startled to be suddenly included in the conversation.
“Izuku, I’m not just going to go to the beach by myself. That’s super boring. Now, are you coming or not?”
“I… uh, I don’t…” Izuku stuttered, trying to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but at that moment he could barely imagine climbing to his feet.
“Okay, let me rephrase that,” Mina said, holding up a hand to forestall any further resistance, “Do you want to keep sitting here, wallowing in your misery with everyone else, or do you want to come hang out on the beach with me and see the swimsuit I specifically picked out for you?”
He was on his feet in no time flat, perfectly ready to hit the beach.
She snickered at his enthusiasm, though Izuku could see a faint tinge of lilac dusting her cheeks as she did. As confident as she acted most of the time, Izuku knew that Mina had been harassed over her looks a few times in the past, and being reminded that he found her (extremely) attractive always seemed to embarrass her a little bit, no matter how many times he did it.
“G-glad to see you’re so excited,” Mina said, her voice cracking a little as she did so. “Tell you what, how about you meet me down at the beach? Wouldn’t want to spoil my entrance by having you see before I’m ready.”
“Huh,” Kaminari observed, in one of his rare moments of perception, “Ashido’s acting like a bride on her wedding day.”
Mina eeped in a combination of surprise and embarrassment and the slight color in her cheeks turned to a full blush. She quickly turned on Kaminari, who seemed to have realized that retribution was coming his way and was attempting to pry himself out of the love seat he had been reclining in to little success. The task was made significantly harder a moment later when she dumped a load of acid into his lap. Thankfully for him, it didn’t seem to be particularly potent, since his clothes didn’t start smoking. He did immediately begin scratching at himself to relieve a sudden bout of itching, though.
With that, Mina dashed out of the common room, deliberately facing away from Izuku as she did so. It meant she was walking the opposite way as the women’s dorm, but Izuku was in no position to critique her behavior. After all, he was keeping his own gaze firmly set on the floor while he tried to fight down the heat in his cheeks, as well as the images of Mina in a white dress.
Once he had calmed down a little, thanks in no small part to Uraraka’s gentle advice and encouragement, he made his way slowly to the room he was sharing with Kirishima and got changed into his swim trunks and a Hawaiian themed shirt that his mother had helped him pick out. It was much flashier than what he would usually wear, but she had said it made him look dashing. 
And, if he were honest with himself, he wanted to be a bit flashy to impress Mina. She was always leaving him speechless with how stunning she looked in her various outfits. He wanted to do the same to her, if only a little.
 ---
When Izuku finally arrived at the beach, he was a little taken aback by how nice it was.  UA had purchased the island specifically for training purposes, so he'd been picturing something a little bit more rocky, with maybe a few sharks in the water waiting to pick off a foolish student or two. 
Instead the beach was composed of fine, dark sand, and sloped gently down towards the ocean. A little ways out, the top of a small, curved reef jutted out of the ocean, breaking any large waves before they could even reach the beach, and forming a perfect swimming cove.
It looked so much like a scene out of a travel advertisement or a postcard that Izuku was tempted to double check his phone to make sure he hadn’t spontaneously gained the ability to teleport. He would never regret his choice to inherit One for All, but he could do without all the sudden discoveries of new powers that came with it.
He was in the midst of exploring the beach, looking for a good place to set out the towel he had brought along, when a familiar call distracted him.
“Izukuuuu!” Mina called, stepping out of the tree line and into view.
She was dressed for the beach, with a pair of flip flops and a light jacket with the same leopard print pattern as her hero costume. She was carrying a large cloth bag that seemed to be filled with beach supplies and snacks, all of which threatened to fall out with every bounding step.
Izuku was surprised to see that her jacket was zipped all the way up, since it was already fairly warm out, and she was usually fairly weak to the heat. Despite how light the jacket looked, Izuku knew that she must already be sweating up a storm.
Before he could do much more than raise a hand to return her wave, she dropped the bag she was carrying and charged him at an impressive speed for someone who had been complaining about how much she was aching just a short while ago.
He braced himself for the inevitable, but Mina’s full body tackle-hug still sent him stumbling backwards. It was her favorite way to greet him, and she was apparently not going to let a few sore muscles dissuade her from using it.
He groaned in pain as his own muscles and miscellaneous bruises complained violently about the sudden affectionate assault, but didn’t dare let go. He’d done that twice before, and Mina had given him quite the tongue lashing about letting her fall to the ground and getting her outfit dirty.
He tried to pry her off of him, but she was stuck fast. Her many hours of grapple training with Uraraka had made her a fierce opponent, and a particularly tenacious hugger when she chose.
“Thanks for coming out here, even though you were so tired. It really means a lot,” she said softly.
“Of course,” he replied, gripping her even tighter, “And thank you for making me come. I think the fresh air is helping a lot.”
“I’m glad,” she replied, finally releasing him and stepping back, “Now let’s hit the water! I’ve been waiting all week for this!”
In one quick motion, she zipped open her jacket and let it fall to the ground. As it did, so too did Izuku’s jaw. He’d seen Mina in plenty of outfits, including in her school swimsuit before, but this was entirely different.
Underneath the jacket was a ruffled turquoise bikini that left very little to the imagination. It accentuated both her feminine curves, and the extremely impressive set of muscles she had been developing during her time at UA.
“Soooo,” she prompted, reminding him that he needed to respond, and not just stare, “What do you think?”
“I, uh… you… pretty,” Izuku said eloquently.
“Not exactly what I was hoping for,” she said, giggling slightly at his reaction, “But I’ll take it. Now come on!”
With that, she grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the ocean, jacket and bag entirely forgotten in her enthusiasm.
 ---
“Honestly,” Yaoyorozu chastised, “how could the two of you forget to put on sunscreen?”
Izuku shrugged sheepishly, then winced as the motion irritated the massive sunburn that now covered his face, neck, and most of his limbs. His torso had, thankfully, been spared the same fate thanks to his swimsuit and shirt, but he was still miserable.
Although not nearly so much as Mina. She was sprawled out on the couch, doing her best not to move while she waited for Yaoyorozu to produce some ointment to help relieve her pain. Every bit of her normally bright pink skin was burned a deep lilac, as though she were experiencing a full body blush. It was quite the sight to behold, though it made Izuku feel terrible, since he was mostly to blame for her current predicament. He was supposed to be the responsible one, after all.
“We had more important things on our minds,” Mina pouted, “Like playing with the fish. And watching dolphins!”
“And was that worth getting burned?” Yaoyorozu asked.
The muttered “Maybe,” was almost inaudible, but caused the taller girl to chuckle..
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves at least. And you’re in luck. I happen to know how to make a very effective ointment for treating sunburns.”
As she spoke, the familiar sparkling light of her Quirk bloomed in her palm. A moment later, it formed into a bottle with an image of a spiny, cactus-like plant on the front that Izuku assumed was the aforementioned substitute.
“Apply some of that now to wherever hurts, then apply another layer tomorrow morning. If you do, you should be back to full health by the end of the day.”
“You’re a saint Yaomomo!” Mina said, reaching for the bottle, only to wince in pain and fall back as the motion irritated her already sensitive skin.
“You’re welcome, Ashido,” Yaoyorozu said, “I hope you feel better soon. You as well, Midoriya.” 
With a graceful nod to them both, she placed the bottle of ointment on the coffee table near Mina and strode out of the room. 
Izuku wished there was some easy way to thank her for her help. With anyone else, he would give them a gift of some sort, but Yaoyorozu could simply make or buy anything he could get her. It was a real shame too. She helped the entire class out all the time, and it would have been nice to finally give something back.
Before he could finish that thought, however, Mina’s voice interrupted him.
“Izukuuuuu,” she whined, “I can’t reach it...”
He turned to find Mina waving her arms vainly at the bottle of ointment, which was just out of easy reach. She could probably have grabbed it, if she were willing to sit up and move a little, but Izuku didn’t see that happening anytime soon. Instead, he stepped over and scooted the bottle a scant few inches so that she could finally grab it.
She had other plans, though. Instead of picking up the bottle, she looked up at him piteously. 
“I can’t put this on myself. Will you do it for me?”
He spluttered, both in surprise and at the idea of it. 
“M-Mina, I can’t. T-This is the common room! Anyone could walk in!”
“Everyone’s already in bed, or watching T.V. in their rooms or something,” she said dismissively, “Besides, I’m dying here, and it will only take a minute.”
He wavered. As much as the idea of basically giving her a full rub-down in the middle of the common room sounded like an exercise in anxiety and embarrassment, he knew  that she really was feeling miserable, and it would be difficult for her to relieve it on her own.
“I… O-okay. But just until you feel good enough to walk, okay?” Izuku said.
She hummed in agreement, then stuck one of her legs out for him to start with, hissing slightly in pain as she did so. That hiss, more than anything, set his resolve to help her out. He pulled a chair over to the couch so that he could sit while he worked, and so that she wouldn’t have to hold her leg up the entire time. 
He worked as quickly and efficiently as he could, doing his best to think about anything other than the fact that he was running his hands up and down her legs while she sighed repeatedly in contentment. She didn’t make it easy, though, especially since she refused to engage him in any conversation that would have drowned out her exhalations. 
He breathed out his own sigh of relief when he was finally done applying the ointment, only for her to pull her legs back, flip over to lie on her stomach, and proceed to hike up her shirt to expose nearly her entire back.
“Do my back too,” she commanded.
“But what if someone comes in?”
“Then they’ll see that I got a big sunburn, and that you treat me like a queen. Who cares? Now, get to massaging mister!”
With a quick glance around, and a silent prayer that he wouldn’t faint mid-application, Izuku set to work. 
The sounds Mina was making were even worse now, making Izuku absolutely certain that she was doing it intentionally to tease him. Her strategy was working too. His already warm cheeks were absolutely burning, and he had to concentrate hard to keep his eyes from straying into dangerous territory. Even going over increasingly difficult math problems in his head didn’t work as well as it normally did, so he hurried through the task as quickly as he could.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough.
“What’s going on in here?” Kaminari said, sauntering into the room. He looked quite a bit more refreshed than he had that afternoon, thanks to a day of rest, and ready for a bit of friendly ribbing.
On the other hand, Mineta, who had entered at the same time as Kaminari, looked like he had just seen a ghost. His face was pale, and his mouth agape. If it weren’t for the fact that he kept looking back and forth between Izuku and Mina, Izuku would have been tempted to check behind him to see if there really was a ghost.
“Izuku is being a gentleman and helping with my sunburn,” Mina replied, “Or he was before you two barged in and interrupted us.”
“Hey, we were just grabbing snacks,” Kaminari said, holding up a packet of chips to prove his point, “Not our fault you two were getting busy in the common room.”
“Kami, you’re so lucky I can’t get up right now, or I would absolutely give you the acid treatment again,” Mina said, shooting him a withering look.
“Whoa, hostile!” Kaminari said, backing away slowly with his hands up, “Think I’m gonna get while the gettin's good. Have fun you two! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Kami, I swear to god!”
Laughing, he exited the room, dragging a still gaping Mineta along behind him.
Once they were gone, Mina smacked her forehead into the couch with a dull ‘thwap’, and let out a long sigh.
“Sorry Izuku,” she said, once she had finished expressing her exasperation with her friend.
“I-it’s not your fault,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady, and failing utterly.
Mina might be used to such ribbing from her friends, but Izuku was most assuredly not. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and he mostly wanted to phase through the floor and never come out again at that point.
Then, despite how much it must have hurt her, Mina hauled herself up to sit cross legged in front of him, and took Izuku’s hands in hers. 
“Maybe it’s not, but I’m still sorry. I know you don’t like getting teased about that stuff. I’ll tell Kaminari to lay off the next time I see him.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Izuku said, not wanting to damage her friendship with Kaminari.
“No, but I want to. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, and I know Kaminari doesn’t either. If we’re gonna tease you, we want you to all be able to laugh about it later. And if you ever do feel uncomfortable about anything we tease you about, just tell us and we’ll back off. Remember, we’re your friends first and foremost, and we care about you.”
Izuku ducked his head, unable to look her in the eye after words like that.
“I, uh, th-thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Izuku,” Mina said, leaning forward to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. It stung more than anything, but Izuku still appreciated the gesture. 
Although, he wasn’t sure if he needed it. Being teased about Mina and him… being intimate was embarrassing, of course, but he could handle it. After all, he’d endured plenty of teasing throughout his life, almost all of it from people who meant to bring him down, to make him feel small. Kaminari’s words didn’t do that. If anything, they made him feel at home, like he really belonged in the class.
“B-but you don’t need to tell Kaminari anything. I don’t mind it,” Izuku said.
“You sure?”
He nodded his agreement, and a soft smile blossomed across her face. 
“I’m proud of you, Izuku. And don’t worry. I’ll teach you plenty of comebacks, so Kaminari won’t even know what hit him.”
Somehow Izuku doubted that he would ever reach that level, but if it made Mina happy, then he would try.
“But before that…” Mina said, stretching back out on the couch while she grinned wickedly, “How about you finish fixing me up, and we go get some dinner?”
It wasn’t exactly the peaceful evening filled with relaxation that he had hoped for during their many hours of training, but Izuku had long ago made peace with the fact that Mina was going to make his life much more lively than it otherwise would have been. It led to a lot of awkward and ridiculous situations, but Izuku wouldn’t trade his relationship with her for the world.
“That sounds… nice,” Izuku said.
“You're the best Izuku! I love you!"
"I love you too, Mina," he replied with a wide smile.
50 notes · View notes
sadienita · 4 years
Text
As Sure As Fate - Part 3
Han Dong x Female Reader
Word Count: 3.2k
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Reincarnation
Notes: @flyingsculptures I didn’t realize how long this part got but I also am so in love with the dialogue in it so I really hope you enjoy this installment. Also fun fact, Han Dong’s English name is Della.
1785 - Marseille, France
The third time I met you I felt it more strongly. We had been apart for so long, separated by time and space. It could have been an eternity before meeting you again and without even knowing it you were like coming up for fresh air.
You resisted the urge to play with your gloves as you walked arm in arm with your husband. As interesting as you were sure the salons were, you weren’t excited to be spending your whole day there. You would rather not be surrounded by strangers debating all day, lest they get rowdy. The topics would be stimulating for sure, and were it calm you might learn a thing or two, but you weren’t one for a heated conversation, though that seemed the way to exchange ideas these days.
“Are you alright, love?” His voice was laced with concern.
“Yes, of course,” you replied. “I’m simply a little fatigued, nothing to worry about.” You gave him a warm smile and squeezed his arm and he seemed satisfied with your answer.
You did your best to relax your body and look forward to this engagement. It would be interesting. It could be fun. You thought you ought to at least give it a chance, get to know some of the people. Perhaps you could hide in the corner for much of the day and stay out of the way if the conversation became too vivacious.
“We’re here,” he snapped you out of your thoughts and you gazed up at the house in front of you.
“Wonderful,” you hoped your voice didn’t sound too strained.
Your husband led you inside and you could hear the din of voices ahead, your heart beating a little too quickly. You avoided biting on your lip as you stuck close to him, the voices growing louder and louder as you made your way to the large parlor of the estate. 
He let go of your arm to open the final set of doors and the noises of talk and debate filled your ears as you took in the large room, a small gasp tumbling from your lips. A large mix of people filled the room, not just those in proper suits and dresses but the working class filled the hall, debating passionately with men they may never have spoken to.
You had heard of course, but as your husband pulled you into the room you barely remembered to shut your mouth and wipe away your surprise, slowly processing the scene. Only the sound of a calm, beautiful voice broke your mental wandering and your eyes finally snapped in front of you.
She must have been the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen. A serene smile graced her face. She had an air of elegance and authority about her and the way she regarded you could have knocked you off your feet.
“You should get acquainted with Madame Han,” your husband said. “You’ll be alright if I wander off?”
“I’m sure I will.” Your voice was steadier than you expected it to be.
He kissed you on the cheek lightly before heading into the crowd and you tried to find words to say to the woman in front of you.
She chuckled. “He really shouldn’t just drop you here, but oh well. They do get so excited about the salon.”
“Y-Yes it seems they do.” You wished your voice held as steady with her.
“You can call me Della,” she said. “No need to be too formal.”
The way she smiled made your heart flutter and yet put you at ease.
“I think that would be best.”
“Indeed,” she hummed. “We’ll be the best of friends.”
Even though it had been so long, I fell back into you so easily.
“I don’t know how you do it,” you sighed.
“Oh they’re not so hard to handle,” she hummed. “They don’t bite.”
“Are you sure?”
Della let out a light giggle at your words. Before speaking again though, raised voices caught your attention. You both looked across the room at the three men now standing from their seats as their debate grew more and more heated.
Della took a deep breath as she set down her tea, then standing and smoothing her dress. You watched in awe as she walked across the room, seeming to glide. The men around her quieted as she walked past, letting her through to the commotion.
They way she handled the men who came to the salon. She carried herself with elegance, grace, and authority, and the men listened. The room had quieted by the time she made it to them, interjecting into conversation smoothly. The three men yielded to her quickly and she quieted them with ease, coaxing them back to their seats and giving each of them a serene smile as the din of chatter rose up again around them.
 “Still,” you managed as she made it back to you. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“They listen a lot more easily than you think,” she said, sitting down and taking her teacup again. “They have it in their minds not to be boorish, you must just remind them of where they are and who is in their presence.”
“You make it sound far easier than it is,” you mumbled.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” she said, a small smile gracing her face.
“I- No I couldn’t possibly,” you set down your teacup before you started fiddling with it.
Her hand grasped yours and she squeezed it lightly.
You ignored the funny little thing your heart did as she did so.
“I have faith in you.”
“Y-You do?” Your voice was too unsteady for your own good.
“I do,” she hummed.
You were much like breathing to me. Though I didn’t know then, I could feel that you were someone special. You brought a life to me that I never expected.
The winter waned to early spring and then summer and you found yourself more and more enraptured with Della. She was a better friend than you had ever expected to make and more often than not your husbands were waiting on you to stop your conversation, to be ready to leave each other.
You had found a kindred spirit in her to be sure.
“This really is lovely, though I do feel bad that you have to row,” Della giggled, shifting away from the view all around you and watching you instead.
“I don’t mind it,” you smiled, slowing your movements. “And we can just drift from here.”
“Perfect,” she smiled, passing you your parasol.
“We should really do this more often,” you hummed.
“We should, though I think our husbands might protest.”
“Do we spend too much time together?” you laughed. “ Not enough with them?”
“I can’t think it’s too much,” she shook her head. “How can something that feels so natural and good be too much?”
You ignored the funny little thing your heart did.
“You mean that?”
Her smile softened. “I do, how could I not?” Nerves began to creep into her expression. “Do you not… feel the same?”
“N-No I do!” Still, you couldn’t keep your voice steady. “We do get on so well. And I feel you understand me so deeply.”
Della grasped your hands. “And you me.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You are so very special to me. Do you know that?”
She nodded, squeezing your hands. “I think I do, for you are just as special to me.”
You taught me to do things that I didn’t think possible of myself. Even I was surprised with myself when I was with you. Something about you made me grow in the most wondrous ways.
“It’s getting cold again,” she hummed.
“At least it doesn’t get so cold as in the north,” you replied. “I don’t think I could live up there.”
“Yes…” you caught something in Della’s voice but before you could mention it something across the room caught your attention. A few of the men were growing more rowdy in their debate and when you turned back to Della she was smiling at you.
“Are you-”
“No,” she grinned. “You are.”
“I-I am?” you looked at her bewildered as she dragged you to your feet. Recently she had had you move through the room with her and participate in calming the debates that welled up. You knew what to do and yet somehow you really hadn’t thought of doing it on your own.
“Yes, you are. You’ll do wonderfully!” She gave you a small shove and you just managed to catch yourself, glancing back at her quickly before pulling yourself up. You took a deep breath and started towards the loud debaters, sucking down your nerves and paying no attention to the men you passed as you moved through the room. 
One of the four men looked towards you and did a double take, eyes widening as you got closer to them. He couldn’t jump back into the conversation, stepped back as you reached them, placing a hand each on two of their shoulders.
“Now what’s all this fuss about?” you asked kindly.
“It’s-” the man stopped, swallowing back his words.
“We were…”
“I trust you can all maintain civility?” The four men mumbled quiet “yes, madames” and nodded as they sat in their seats.
“Wonderful,” you smiled, clasping your hands together before turning back to Della and making your way across the room.
As you made your way to her she grasped your shaking hands, her face beaming.
“You did so well!” she cried.
You nodded, taking a shaky breath as she helped you back to your seat.
“And don’t worry, it only gets easier.”
“I’m thankful for that,” you sighed.
I was so lucky to spend so much time with you in this life. To get so close to you and to grow together in a way we couldn’t before.
You snuggled a little closer to your husband as the last chills of late winter blew around you. The evening walk was a nice quiet moment to spend with him and he pulled you a little closer, drawing a smile across your lips.
“I’m glad to spend this time with you,” he hummed.
“And I you,” you replied happily.
He paused in his speech, thinking for a moment. “We’ve had a proposition.”
“Oh?”
“We’ve been invited to Prague.”
You gasped and gave him a bright, excited smile. “To Prague?! By whom?”
“Who do you think?”
You stopped him in his tracks. “You can’t be serious?”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your nose. “I am, the offer was set a few days ago and I said I would ask you first but I figured you’d say yes. It will be a long voyage.”
You shook your head. “I don’t mind! It’ll be the four of us then.”
“Yes, I-” You cut him off with an excited hug which he returned sweetly, chuckling. “Just, promise me you will spend time with me on this trip?”
“I- of course,” you giggled, pulling back to look at him.
“Sometimes I’m of the mind you think you’re married to Madame Han and not myself.” He said lightheartedly.
You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you hit his arm playfully. “I know who I’m married to,” you chided. “But she is a dear friend.”
“I know she is, and I am glad you found her,” he hummed, giving you a chaste peck on the lips. “Just spend time with me as well, alright?”
You kissed him sweetly. “Of course.”
The closer we got, the more you set my heart a light, the more I soared.
The sounds of your husbands voices behind the two of you were lost in your giggles as you ran up the street, hand in hand and lifting your skirts enough to move quickly. You had not a care in the world in that moment as you headed for the top of the hill with Della by your side.
“We’re acting like school girls!” she screeched, trying to keep up with you.
“Della, I simply do not care!” you cried. “There are more important things than that in life.”
She squeezed your hand and moved a little faster to keep up, both of you trying not to trip on the street. Perhaps it was the excitement of being in a new place. Maybe it was being with Della every day, but you had never felt more alive then you did these days. The feeling of being fun loving and free overtook you, a bit of spontaneity seeping into your being.
Spontaneity that you were exhibiting at that very moment.
“We’re almost there!” you cried.
Della let loose a fit of giggles that filled you with a joy you could barely contain as you finally crested the hill. You grabbed onto her and she wrapped her arms around you as you both steadied yourselves. A small “oh” left your lips as a quiet “my goodness” left hers, the view of the Swiss Alps in front of you.
“They’re beautiful,” you spoke in hushed awe.
“Very much so,” she agreed.
You tore your eyes away from the view for only a moment to see your husbands, making their way up the bottom of the hill. Quickly though, you returned your view forwards again, Della letting go of you but taking your hand instead.
“I’m so glad you came on this trip with us, it’s been good to spend so much time with you.” she sighed.
“I think our husbands would beg to differ,” you giggled.
“I think it’s brought them closer,” she added. “It’s good for them, they’re good friends.”
“That’s a better way to look at it,” you hummed. “This has been so nice.”
“We’ve still a ways to go,” she pointed out.
You squeezed her hand. “We do, and I’m grateful for that.” You gazed at her, a smile on your lips. “How will I ever go back to not seeing you every single day?”
If you had any reason to think so, you would have thought there was something sad in her eyes. “I don’t know how we ever will.”
As it turns out though, the higher you fly…
“That was marvelous!” You cried, arm in arm with Della and your husband, hers on her other side. 
“That was fantastic,” your husband agreed and hers nodded.
“Mozart really is a master,” Della added. “I knew it would be good, but it really did exceed expectations.”
“We really must go to more operas,” you told her.
“You know that would be easier if we were in Paris,” she added.
“It’s too bad I’d rather not live in Paris, and where we are is closer to Italy anyway.”
“Paris is busy,” her husband mused, “but it’s also a much bigger hub of innovation.”
“It’s so much to pick up and move,” you husband let go of your arm, falling back alongside Della’s as they continued to talk about Paris.
“Paris seems glamorous, but I’ve been,” you hummed. “It’s busy and dirty, and there’s a terrible smell in some places.”
“I don’t think it would be so bad,” Della mused. “It could be a fun adventure.”
“I only need so much adventure in life,” you hummed. “As fun as this trip has been I will be happy to be back in my own bed.”
“Yes, I suppose.”
You gazed at her, taking in some sadness, nearly hidden in the low evening light. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, of course,” she smiled. “Everything is fine.”
Something in her voice was far too unconvincing.
… the farther you can fall…
“It doesn’t feel like it’s getting chilly,” you said, walking along the street. Della was quiet as you continued. “I suppose because Prague is so much further north, that ought to be part of it.”
“Indeed.”
“Della,” you said softly. “What’s on your mind? Something must be weighing on you. You’ve been more and more quiet the closer we’ve come to home.”
“It’s-”
“Please don’t say it’s nothing,” you grasped her hands. “You are my dearest friend, surely you can tell me.”
“I just… haven’t known how,” she sighed.
“It’s just-”
“We’re moving to Paris.”
You stared at her as you tried to process the words that had just left her lips.
“You’re what?”
“We’re moving… to Paris. Soon after we return.”
“Why… Della, why didn’t you say something?”
You couldn’t seem to ignore the horrible way your heart was cracking.
“I wanted to,” her eyes began to glisten as tears welled up in them. “But I’ve had no idea how. How.. how was I supposed to tell you I was going away?”
“Can’t you stay?”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t the one that decided, but I don’t have a say in the matter.”
“Don’t you?” You pulled your hands slowly from hers and you heard her call your name softly as you stepped back from her.
“You know I would never-”
“You’re just going to leave then?” Why did this hurt so much?
“I have to,” her voice was weak as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Your heart felt crushed as you took a few steps away from her and she cried, reaching for you.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“You’re the one leaving me,” you cried bitterly. Why did this cut you so deeply? “How is this right, doesn’t this feel wrong to you too?”
“It- I can’t change it-”
“But this is wrong, doesn’t it seem wrong to you too?”
Della stared at you, her expression anguish and fear, but no response came from her lips.
You turned on your heel and stalked down the street. She called your name in broken cries but you didn’t turn back for fear your own heart would completely shatter if you did.
��� and the more it hurts to hit the ground.
“Don’t you want to say goodbye?”
“I already have,” you lied. In truth you had avoided Della since that night and it was even easier once you’d returned home. There was some small part of you, still held together by sheer will, and you thought it might break if you saw her face one more time.
You husband said your name softly and you shifted your gaze further from him.
“Surely your falling out can’t have been so bad that you would let her go like this?”
He was so sweet, but he really didn’t know…
“No, I’ve said all I need to. Tell them I wish them both the best of luck in Paris.”
… that you had already lost her.
“If that’s what you truly wish,” he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll see you this evening.”
She was already gone and she would take your heart with her.
“I’ll miss you until then.”
No matter how much you wished she wouldn’t.
To lose you again was torture. My heart left with you, my brightness, my joy. I felt it so deeply and I longed to have you back by my side where I knew you belonged. Even if you couldn’t admit it yet.
17 notes · View notes
philliamwrites · 4 years
Text
i could make you want me (pt.1)
Fandom: Persona 5
Pairing: Akira/Akechi
Tags: #persona 5 royal spoilers, #pining, #crossdressing, #kissing, #light roleplay, #akechi rank 3 spoilers
Words: 2.6k
Summary: Akechi allowing Akira to dress him up makes Akira wonder what else the detective might allow him to do.
Note: Part 2
i could make you want me
    “I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Akechi says, smile still plastered on his face even though it is quite the definition of ‘forced’. Someone glued it on and forgot to remove it, and now the whole concept of showing what he really thinks about this seems foreign to him. Akira can’t imagine he’s all too happy.
    “Trust me, this will be great.” Akira’s hands strain trying to reach Akechi’s hair. His fingers around Akira’s wrists are burning hot, and for someone as skinny as Akechi, he’s surprisingly strong. Yet another little fact Akira is going to hide in his chest so he can unfold it later and put together the puzzle that Akechi is. The first fact he’s learnt: Akechi smells really good.
    “You didn’t have to take it literally, you know.” He’s still struggling against Akira’s grabby hands, his back bending further and further over the sink and Akira summons every ounce of self-control so he doesn’t step closer to push his pelvis against Akechi’s. He’s come this far; he won’t fuck it up by allowing his hormones to take over.
    Luckily, the restroom inside the café is empty, though not for long Akira imagines, and he’s sure whoever enters next will interpret this scene as Akira trying to assault the famous detective and call the cops on him (which isn’t news but he’d still rather spend his time with Akechi in peace).
    “It’s really—” Akira grunts. “For your own good.” A step to the side, his hip against Akechi’s and there you can see his self-control flying out of the window. Akechi makes a choking sound, but the brief contact is enough to make him lose focus and not a second later are Akira’s hands back in his hair.
    Silky brown hair glides through his fingers. Leaning in to examine if it smells just as good as it feels would be too much, but damn it if Akira isn’t tempted. He does a good job in making total chaos of Akechi’s usually kempt hair, eyes intensely focused on the task because he’s sure meeting Akechi’s death glare might spur him to do more things he’ll regret later.
    Kiss him for example. Which is a long stretch, it’s only their second date and they haven’t had a real dinner yet. Not that Akechi thinks the same. Probably not. Which doesn’t explain why his hips are still locked in place, comfortably pressed against Akira’s.
    For good measure, Akira gives a last tug to the hair curling around Akechi’s nape, finding enough courage to finally lower his eyes to see what kind of expression he’s wearing.
    God help him.
    In search for a witty comment, he pretends to work a little more on the strands of hair falling in Akechi’s face so he can accidentally brush a thumb over crimson red cheeks. Akechi’s reaction is a guttural sound from his throat, and Akira plays a round of suck him off, don’t suck him off in his head, plucking the white petals off a daisy flower. He’s recently learnt besides innocence they also mean beauty and loyal love.
    See, he can be a romantic even before hitting second base.
    Though Akechi looks like he’d rather have his hands around Akira’s throat (not in a kinky way, which is a shame) than anything else, so when Akira deems his masterpiece finished, he takes a step back and gives Akechi the last once-over.
    He looks terrible, like a dog left in the rain, and if that is how Akira looks every day by default, no wonder Takemi still doesn’t want to meet up with him.
    “You look great,” Akira says and puts as much conviction in his voice as his conscience allows.
    Akechi considers him with a blank expression. “Let’s get this over with, shall we.” He leads the way back outside to their seats on the patio. Only then Akira realises what’s missing to make the disguise perfect—the very reason that started everything.
    “Also, put these on,” he orders, pushing his spare pair of fake glasses in Akechi’s hands. He inspects them first, then Akira, and realising there is no way for him out of this, Akechi obeys and slides them on his nose.
    Akira almost misses his seat and quickly grabs onto the railing before landing face first on the ground.
    A thin, white line is where Akechi’s full lips usually are, his eyes obscured by the reflection on the glass and Akira feels his fingers itching to get his phone out and take a picture.
    Despite everything, it works and the little crowd gathering in front of the café quickly disperses, leaving them alone again. Akechi’s hands move fast to bring order back to his appearance, though there are still strands sticking out in every direction and Akira chooses not to tell him.
    “I can’t believe you really did that,” Akechi says. There’s a smile flirting with his lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I suppose I’d better learn to watch what I say around you.”
    He’s already made a mistake a month ago. Akira just needs to figure out where it belongs and what to do with it. But that’s an issue for later, when he isn’t preoccupied with trying to get into the detective’s pants.
    Akira crosses his legs and taps his foot against the metal table leg. “I should have taken a picture,” he mutters.
    Akechi’s smile is razor-sharp and Akira doesn’t doubt he’ll cut himself if he tries another stunt like that. The hollow laugh following that sounds ghastly. “Are you familiar with the legal right of portrait?” Akechi asks, the lack of actual joy in his tone only stoking the heat of a threat Akira would love to see playing out. “Or privacy, perhaps?”
    I know I want to get more private with you, Akira doesn’t say because that will surely land him the fork laying in front of Akechi somewhere he’s too fond of to part with, so instead he slides a little down his seat, cocking one head to the side. “I think it worked out well. Nobody paid you attention after that, right”?
    “That is true,” Akechi admits begrudgingly, staring down into his cup like the secrets of the universe might be displayed there. Or a way to ditch Akira in a pit without too anyone noticing.
    Tap, tap, tap, continues Akira’s foot against the metal pole, and Akechi’s silence makes him wonder if he went a little too far for how little acquainted they are.
    But then he feels something warm slide up against his calf, definitely not the table leg, which only leaves one option and Akira has to hold on to something or else he might just turn into a puddle. Every muscle in his body tenses with the effort to maintain his poker face as he looks up at Akechi.
    “You did show me that trying something new isn’t a bad idea,” he starts, and Akira waits a full solid minute to give Akechi time to retreat if the contact was a simple accident—maybe just some stretching that went in the wrong direction. If anything, the pressure against his leg only doubles. “It makes me think about all the other things I’m missing out because I simply choose to follow routine instead of thinking outside the box.”
    Akira leans forward now, resting his chin on his hand.
    Akechi mirrors the movement, a glint flashing in his eyes that is more challenge than everything he’s said until now.
    “And what kind of things are you missing out on, pray tell.”
    “How about next time we change things and you leave the dressing up to me.”
    “Oh?” Akira’s eyebrows arch up. “Anything in particular?”
    “Where would be the fun in telling.” The warmth against Akira’s leg disappears, and he’d wonder if he’d imagined it were it not for the little playful smile tugging at the corners of Akechi’s mouth. “What was it you said? Ah, yes. You’ll just have to trust me. It will be great.”
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saijspellhart · 4 years
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Things I binged recently:
(Still coping with grief and depression, and one of the ways I tend to do that is just to distract myself from it all with Netflix. Here are some things I watched or tried watching. And my thoughts on them.)
The Office: Hated this show. Which was a shame because I really really enjoyed Parks and Rec, and these shows are supposed to be similar in style. Unfortunately this show is cynical, mean, and pessimistic. Characters get away with being outright racist, sexist, and antagonistic. Are unapologetic about their hurtful actions, and it sickens me. I was told season one was bad, and to watch season two, and I did. And even season two was awful. And I shouldn’t have to slog through three seasons of a show before it gets to a point where it’s like-able and good. If it takes you three seasons to figure it out, then no thanks. That’s a lot of show I have to suffer through before I MIGHT get to something I enjoy. I loved Parks and Rec because the characters loved and cared about each other, had genuine friendships, aspirations, and optimism. They strived to better the world around them, despite many mishaps and obstacles along the way. Parks and Rec was uplifting and sincere, where The Office is cynical and mean. 1/10.
A Whisker Away: Good, although I found the romance between the main character and her crush to be insincere and weak. I think the message of love would have been stronger if the best friend ended up being the one going to rescue her in the end. It never felt like the boy actually had feelings for her, just a begrudging respect and budding friendship. And it felt like his feelings were guilted and coerced by her actions to run away in the end. Like, “shit, I messed up and she ran away from home. Better tell her I love her, so she comes back home.” I understand that wasn’t what they were trying to do in this film, but it’s how the relationship came across. Manipulative. Especially since most of it was one sided, with her spying on his life as a cat. The love someone has for a pet does not equate romantic affection. Excellent movie for the heavy themes, Magic, and story, just think the overall message and relationships should have been overhauled, and worked around. I think the love the main character’s best friend had for her was more pure and powerful that the one-sided obsessive crush she had on the boy. 6/10.
Brand New Animal: Great show. Both my husband and I loved it. And were gushing about it even after we finished it. My only critique is all the heavy handed exposition. It felt clunky, ham-handed, and unnatural. I think with a few more episodes to the show they might have been able to parse out that exposition and find more natural ways to feed the audience that information, rather than huge unsolicited info dumps on the Main Character. Especially since half the time she didn’t earn that info, didn’t need it, didn’t ask, and just plain shouldn’t have been told some of it. Like why would you just spit classified secret information out to a character you know can’t keep secrets, or even follow directions?? Aside from that, solid characters, solid friendships, cute story, lots of interesting events, and just a blast from start to finish. Would highly recommend it to anyone. If you like Zootopia or Beastars, you’ll probably enjoy this too. 8/10.
Japan Sinks 2020: I. LOVED. THIS. SHOW. Omg, it had me on the edge of my seat the entire time. I just couldn’t stop watching. It’s in the disaster movie genre. Like Volcano, Dante’s Peak, or The Day After Tomorrow. That “what if this catastrophic natural disaster occurred,” and you follow this group of survivors as they work together to stay alive. And damnit if I wasn’t emotionally invested in every single one of them. I wanted to see them survive, and see how they made it through. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna be able to connect as strongly with their struggle given that it was animated rather than live action. But that didn’t matter at all. The tone is serious, and everything is given the weight and consideration it deserves. The animation style has a realistic tone to it, and the fact that it was an anime never got in the way of the journey and the emotions and the intensity for a second. I felt ALL of it. 10/10.
Unsolved Mysteries Netflix (documentary): I’m a slut for documentaries, all kinds of documentaries. So it’s no surprise I watched this. If you like unsatisfying true stories then this is it. A whole season of unsolved crimes. You get all the information wrapped up and handed to you in a neat little interesting package, and are left to just gnaw on it wondering who did it, and if they’ll ever solve it. One of the episodes isn’t a crime though, it’s a UFO story, which was a weird change of pace and tone from the rest of the season. Still creepy, but in a different way. I liked it, but it can be frustrating when you want answers. It gets an 7/10 because I wanted answers.
Kipo and the Age of the Wonderbeasts: I could watch this show over and over again. My husband and I were foaming at the mouth waiting for season 2, and when it finally released, we gobbled it up and then watched it again right after. Excellent show. Post-Apocalyptic story, where the surface of the earth is overrun with mutant animals, and humans are living underground in “burrows.” The main character Kipo gets separated from her people and stranded on the surface, and has to find a way home. Along the way she makes some human friends, and mutant friends, and connects with people through music. And even learns some deep dark secrets about her Mom and Dad, and even herself. It’s a beautiful story emotionally, but also an exciting adventure. I love it. 10/10.
Eurovision, the Story of Fire Saga: Good. Which is saying something because I’m not a fan of Will Ferrell and he plays one of the main characters in this movie. I enjoyed the movie, and it made me laugh. Which was another surprise because I’m a cold-hearted bitch when it comes to comedy, and most things don’t make me laugh. So when a comedy works for me it’s a surprise. And this comedy worked in places. Not ALL places, but it did get some chuckles and a laugh or two. And I did enjoy the story it told. The movie is about two friends who are musicians/singers that enter singing/performance contest, and the drama that ensues along the way. It’s a cute underdog story. 6/10.
Floor is Lava (game show): The name of the game says it all. Groups of three contestants must navigate rooms using only furniture, and chandeliers, and shit. They can’t touch the floor because the room is flooded with hot orange koolaid. And if they fall in they “die.” Prepare to watch grown ass adults hop, hobble, and flop over furniture, tables, and other obstacles, as they try to get from one side of a room to the other side without falling into the koolaid. It’s exciting, and fun, and although the commentary is awful, the struggle of the contestants more than makes up for it. 8/10.
Splice: Never seen this movie before. Thought I’d give it a try since it just showed up on Netflix. It’s... odd. I’m having a hard time deciding if I loved or hated it. It’s an interesting look into what could happen should we start experimenting with human DNA and other sentient life. And how that could go all kinds of wrong very quickly. I like horror, and this delivered on some of the horror elements, but mostly it just jabs you over and over again with moral dilemmas. And you end up feeling like all the characters in the movie majorly failed each other, and they were all the bad guys. I’ll give it a 5/10 because I’m conflicted whether I liked it or not. But it was worth seeing once.
Ju-on Origins: I’ve seen a couple of the Grudge movies, which is the Americanized version of this horror franchise. But I’ve never seen any of the Ju-on movies. So it was a new experience watching this. It’s non-linear storytelling can be challenging to follow, but the stories it’s telling are fascinating and unnerving. I had to watch it with the shitty English dub because my attention span is too short for subtitles. And this wasn’t just a single movie, it’s a show with an entire first season. Episode 4 was definitely where shit hit the fan, and things got really scary. But I like slow burn horror, so I enjoyed the build up of the previous three episodes, and how they just carefully built on the apprehension and dread until things really got scary in the fourth episode. After that the rest of the show is just a roller coaster of highs and lulls, that leave you wondering where the series is gonna go in season 2. Definitely my favorite installment in the Grudge/Ju-on franchise that I’ve seen so far. And it’s got me curious to check out the other Ju-on movies. 8/10.
The Girl with all the Gifts: I’m a sucker for zombie movies and this was a unique and refreshing take on them. The idea is that the zombie outbreak is caused by a strain of the Cordyceps fungus that ends up infecting humans. And the surviving humans are using children born from infected mothers to try and find a cure for the outbreak. The children are like this functioning hybrid of fungus and human, and not completely lost like the humans who were directly infected. The movie explores the moral dilemma of how the children are treated, and the further of humans. I enjoyed the movie, and the concepts. It was a great addition to the zombie franchise. Would recommend. 7/10.
Abducted in Plain Sight (documentary): another crime documentary. This one dealt with a kidnapper/pedophile who managed to kidnap the same girl twice, and the lasting trauma his actions had on that girl. It was sad, and heartbreaking, and horrifying. If you like crime documentaries and have a steely stomach, check this one out. I won’t give it a rating because it deals with real life stuff and children and it’s not a show.
Evil Genius (documentary): one last documentary on this list. I was on a crime documentary spree. Usually I like animal documentaries. This one was about a couple who masterminded a bank heist by attaching a collar bomb to a man and sending him on a wild goose chase scavenger hunt. There’s also a case about a corpse in a freezer, and how the two cases are connected. It’s absolutely bonkers. Just wow. It’s four episodes long, a mini-series, but just an interesting experience. I mostly watched/listened to this while slowly chipping away at a commission. If you like crime documentaries it’s worth a watch. I give this one a 6/10 because I won’t be watching it a second time, but also because I think the format and how they explained everything was kinda long winded.
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