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blackreaderfics · 10 months

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Off the Record | Clark Kent x Black!Reader

↳ Pairing : MAWS Clark Kent x Rapper!Reader (You)

↳ Rating : M (18+)

↳ Summary : Clark knows Kryptonians don't experience sexual attraction in the same way humans do. One night, he figures out who exactly turns him on.

↳ W.C : ~1.2k

↳ Tags + Warnings : logicalnerd!clark, clark is a late bloomer kinda, kryptonian biology is weird i guess, allusions to asexuality, sexual awakening(?), pwp, masturbation, fantasizing, onlyfans lol, mentions of leaked sextape

Masturbation was healthy; that much Clark had already known from sex ed classes and Google searches. And though he knew from his research that most pubescent kids started jerking off in middle school, along with having erections, he had never in his 30 years of life experienced sexual attraction. Ever.

When kids in high school drooled over naked women posing on the covers of Playboys or Maxims, he still tried his best to act the part of "horny teenager". He had crushes in his teen years too, but he never actively sought out sex.

There was this one time when a girl he liked had tried to initiate sex, but he was honest to a fault and truthfully told her that he didn’t like her in that way. Needless to say, she’d gotten offended and never spoke to him again. Since then, he’d hidden that quirk about himself from every single one of his romantic partners without fail.

Don’t get him wrong, Clark has had sex before and from what he could tell, he was pretty good at it too. Just like with his studies, as long he understood the proper mechanics of the subject at hand, he could go above and beyond for any performance.

It was basic biology. Having an erection required a higher flow of blood towards his penis; which he could do himself pretty easily since he had amazing control over his body. That was the result of learning how to be Superman for the past few years. Because of his “training” he lasted long and the (very) few men and women he chose to bed loved him more for it.

There were still some things he thought he’d never understand the concept of, however. Like, how do Kryptonians procreate if he can’t seem to produce the semen to ejaculate? The white liquid he’d seen in porn as a teen was like a myth to him. Jor-El never mentioned that in the Fortress of Solitude. He wouldn't be finding any Kryptonian biological literature available to read at any Metropolis public library either. It wasn’t like he didn’t try, but after some (controlled) tests, he concluded that perhaps Kryptonians didn’t ejaculate and he was okay with that.

So when Clark felt a strange sensation in his pants one night when he saw you on TV, he immediately thought that he’d fallen ill. Which was strange for him because, well, he’d never gotten sick. But there you were, mesmerizing him as clips flashed on screen of you rapping while wearing a risqué outfit leaving nothing to the imagination. Suddenly everything felt too tight, too hot. He gulped, nervously pulling at the collar of his t-shirt, but a knot remained lodged in his throat.

The camera angles panned across your chocolatey skin and ample curves, cutting right at moments where it veered dangerously into porn instead of what it was supposed to be—a rap music video. Clark had seen porn before and full-on bare naked women anyway, but he’d never been affected like this before. So why now? And why you?

Once the music video ended, Clark snapped out of his trance, but it wasn’t long before the now rock-hard and throbbing situation in his pants urgently reminded him of more pressing matters.

He quickly powered on his computer to search your name and, not long after, pictures of you filled the screen. There was a never-ending stream of shots of you on the red carpet, you on stage, photoshoots, and pictures you’d uploaded yourself on social media.

Every time his eyes would linger on a photo of you in a suggestive position, i.e. licking a popsicle or pushing your breasts together, his cock would twitch against his zipper. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where his cock wanted to be right now and it was right at the back of your throat. He unbuckled his pants, letting his first-ever unassisted erection bob up and against his sweater-clad stomach.

He’d never fantasized about someone having his cock in their mouth until tonight. Sure, his partners had given him blowjobs before, but he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy them. Truthfully, it looked like it hurt when they couldn’t even take all of him in, and he never liked to be the reason anyone felt pain. Clark scrolled on.

You had a sex tape? His brow furrowed in disapproval though he could feel his face grow warm. He couldn’t pinpoint what exact emotion he was feeling right now. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t a positive one.

The page he had landed on showed a closeup of you, eyebrows knitted in ecstasy as someone (he didn’t want to know who) hovered behind, hands gripping your ass, already in the middle of ravishing you. The screenshot made the corners of his mouth tug down in a frown. He didn’t particularly like the idea of watching other people have sex at all. And he especially didn’t want to see some other guy “balls deep” inside you instead of him.

More importantly, it just wasn’t right. He’d seen reports that your tape had been leaked without your consent; by watching it he would be actively infringing on your sexual boundaries. That definitely wasn’t right either and though he desperately wanted to, he didn’t have the heart to press play.

Onlyfans? Clark's eyebrows quirked up in curiosity. He clicked on a link he’d found on your Instagram page and there you were; verified with pages of content ready to be unlocked. After a moment of thought, he concluded that this was the most ethical alternative; much better than masturbating to your pictures or your sex tape. This way you would be paid for your work, and he would gain implied consent as a customer. He felt much better about this as he clicked the blue purchase button.

His cock throbbed again when he finally saw you, full lips planting soft kisses onto a dildo, your large almond eyes heavy-lidded and boring into him with lust. That’s when Clark brought a hand to his cock and began to stroke. What was once a motion that was alien to him, felt more and more natural as he pumped, matching his strokes to your pace. Your image on screen bobbed your mouth up and down making lewd slurps and moans, purposefully throating the shaft to the hilt. Each brief moment you came up for air brought a mess of saliva with you.

Clark watched on, immersed, bucking his hips into his fist as he imagined he was the one making you make those vulgar sounds. But something in the back of his mind was disturbed. Was this what he, Clark Kent, liked or was it an innate biological desire he couldn’t control from a planet he never knew? He felt disconnected; outside his body until, not even a minute after he had started the video, a sensation he’d never felt before came over him. He groaned and tightened his grip as he felt himself release.

A warm sticky liquid had dripped down his cock and onto his hand. Clark grimaced down at the mess he’d made, breathing erratically until he finally calmed down. His cock twitched and the last of dregs of his cum spilled out from his reddened tip.

He'd made two major discoveries that night:

1. Kryptonians did ejaculate after all, and 2. When it came to you, he wouldn’t be able to last very long.

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

#I have a part 2 idea for this ><#I want him to be assigned to interview rapper!reader lmao #i didnt mean for this to be kinda funny but it is #clark kent x black!reader #x black reader #black reader #clark kent smut #clark kent x reader #my adventures with superman #maws imagines #maws x reader #maws x you #brfwrites

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megamindsecretlair · 4 months

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Midnight Sin - Chapter 5

Chapter 4 Chapter 6

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Long exposition that has some smut in the middle. Fingering (fem receiving), cursing, use of N word, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Mentions of blood, overstimulation. The concept of "rolling" is brought up when Tyrone is able to hypnotize reader, but it is consensual. Exhibition kink if you squint. Non-inclusive language used.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Tyrone invites you onto a mysterious date to introduce you more to his world.

Word Count: 4,742k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Well alright nah, I had to swerve on back to my first love. There's some more backstory thrown into this, I hope ya'll paying attention. How has this list gotten so long? I love ya'll. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap

Tyrone was being mysterious as hell. He had told you to be free tonight and that he would pick you up a little after sunset. He refused to tell you where you were going or what you would be doing and you had no idea what to wear.

“Wear anything you’re comfortable in,” he had told you and nothing more.

Now, you were in his car. He was dressed to the nines in a silky black suit, black shirt, skinny black tie and a red pocket square. You felt horribly underdressed in jeans and a long-sleeved white T-shirt.

He didn’t let you change. You were fighting yourself from asking a thousand questions. Why was he dressed so fancy and you weren’t allowed to? Was he just coming from somewhere?

You had to bite your cheek to keep from firing them off. Tyrone never gave you any reason to doubt him. He was a vampire, sure, but you’d yet to see that particular side to him. You weren’t sure how you would react. Horror? Attraction? Who knew?

He held your hand while he drove, asking about your day. His thumb stroked across yours and your belly flipped with every pass. You stumbled over your boring ass day, dealing with work. Bunch of lazy people coddled by management, what else was new?

Tyrone pulled into a parking structure, but you weren’t sure what kind. When he parked and opened the door for you, he had a smirk on his face. He pulled on his sunglasses and headed inside the doors.

It looked like…a boutique. An expensive ass boutique. The kind with perfume pumping out of the vents. Enough to be noticeable but subtle enough that it didn’t irritate your senses. The carpet was a soft cream color that felt like you were walking on clouds. There were a few racks back here, filled with long and flowing dresses. Fancy event dresses.

The back section of the boutique had been closed off with a soft pale pink curtain. As soon as you got further inside, you noticed dressing rooms and a rack of matching shoes to the dresses.

“Tyrone?” You asked.

At the sound of your voice, some tall, thin, brunette stepped from the shadows holding a champagne flute. She handed it to you with a small smile. You took it but you were just out of your element here.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight. Be more involved in my world than just my parties,” he said. He nodded to the woman who left and returned, rolling a clothing rack your way.

“There’s no way my size is in here,” you said.

You couldn’t help yourself from walking over to the rack, running your fingers through the fabric. Silk, satin, chiffon, lace. You ran over the many textures and colors already imagining trying to squeeze your ass in one of them.

“This store caters exclusively to us and all sizes,” Tyrone said.

You laughed and turned to face him. “You just think of everything, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Try to. I want to spoil somebody. I want to spoil you,” he said.

You shook your head. “There’s no way I can afford this or accept it as a gift. This is…way too much. I’m not after your money,” you said.

You had taken care of yourself all your life, because who else was going to do it? You didn’t like handouts or charity.

Tyrone looked towards the sales clerk. “We’d like some privacy please,” he said. The sales clerk nodded robotically and left through the pale curtains, out into the boutique proper. Tyrone walked over to you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest.

He took a deep breath and kissed your cheek. “I want you to spend my money. I want you to spend so much of it, the bank sends several ex-forces to shut us down. I already have more than I can spend in a thousand lifetimes,” he said. His deep, rumbling voice only sent shivers down your thighs.

“Tyrone…” you said. You were trying to think of a good argument for why you couldn’t let him pamper you. This just…wasn’t you. You liked him for him and that was all that mattered.

Tyrone’s hands slid across your hips until he was unbuttoning your jeans. Your soft, lacy panties were moved aside as Tyrone circled your clit. He hummed, finding you wet already. He dipped his hand lower to tease your entrance, gathering up more of your arousal to ease his fingers around your clit once more.

A soft moan escaped you. One hand moved over his but you made no indication for him to stop. Your other hand gripped his other forearm. This was so wrong and dirty, getting fingered in a boutique where the salespeople could hear you or walk in on you at any moment.

You never thought you had an exhibition kink, but here you were. Tossing your ass in the air for his vampire buddies to see and now for sales clerks. Tyrone licked your neck, right over your artery and you moaned a little louder.

You’d blame this on your morbid curiosity into the macabre. It turned you on a little too much that a creature capable of draining you dry was licking all over your neck like you were an ice cream cone. The push and pull between hunger, death, and sex intoxicated you. The way you were both a treat to eat and a treat to ravish.

Wasn’t it the French that called orgasms, “la petite mort”? The little death?

You felt a little like dying whenever you were with Tyrone. Maybe it was the nature of the vampire. Maybe it was because you were terrified of dying and here he offered a solution. If you asked, would he make you like him? Could you handle being a vampire?

He moved his hand faster, flicking your clit. You bit your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, too harshly. He moved his left hand up to cover your mouth while he rubbed and flicked on your clit until you were putty in his hands.

Until you were drooping, knees buckling, unable to keep standing. Tyrone bent and rolled with you but held you up. Held you open. You were so fucking close. So fucking close to that sweet hit of ecstasy.

“Say you’ll take all my money. Every last cent. That you’ll let me spoil you. That I get to treat you like my little doll?” He asked.

His hand slowed. He moved his left hand away from your mouth. “Wait, wait,” you said. You moved and gyrated your hips, not wanting to give up how close you were to cumming.

“What do I wanna hear?” He asked.

“Please,” you said. You were desperate to cum. Your body was on fire.

“I need to hear it, little doll,” he said in your ear. He finished with a small lick to the shell of your ear.

“Okay, okay, okay, please,” you moaned. You were right on the edge. Right on the edge of that cliff staring down the abyss. You only needed a push.

Tyrone chuckled and returned to kissing your neck, rubbing his fangs across your artery. His hand moved faster, flicking your clit until you were moaning and riding your orgasm. His hand returned to your mouth to cover some of it, but between the smell of sex and your noises, it was obvious to anyone what you were doing back here.

You shivered and jerked as you came down, slumping against him. He held you while you recovered. “I can’t try on dresses now,” you said, pouting.

“There’s a bathroom right over there. Nice try,” he said. He replaced your panties and zipped you up, leaving your button undone. He tapped your ass to get you moving towards the bathroom so you could clean yourself up. Bastard. You heard him licking his fingers.

Afterwards, you were fresh and clean. Tyrone had found a plush chair to relax into. He was on his phone, scowling, but when you entered, he put his phone away.

“Which dresses do you like?” He asked.

You playfully scowled as you looked over the vibrant colors. There was black, green, purple, and red to match his pocket square. You chose the red one, flaring it out over yourself. It was a sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline. It had your name written all over it.

You picked out a few more, a blue one and a purple one. “Try them on, I wanna see you in ‘em,” he said.

He really wasn’t going to make this easy on you. Fuck it. If you were going to date a vampire, you might as well receive all the perks. You were dying for him to roll you again. Spending his money was just a part of that. You deserved it, didn’t you? There was no law that said you had to play the demure card.

If you were a gold digging heartless bitch, that was one thing. You weren’t. You were an asshole sure, a bitch most definitely, but heartless? No. You simply curated which fucks to give.

You walked towards the dressing room, clutching the red dress when Tyrone stopped you. “Naw, out here,” he said.

“Really?” You asked.

“I wanna see everything,” he said.

You smiled. Maybe he was still rolling you because you felt sinful, naughty, as you pushed your jeans down your hips. You turned so that he could watch the material slide over your ass. Tyrone leaned on one elbow, fingers against his face, his pinky resting against his big, sexy lips.

You couldn’t see his eyes, but you watched him in the mirror. His attention was definitely on you.

You worked off your shirt and bra, tossing it at him. He caught it with his free hand and rested it against his knee. That sight alone made your knees weak. You loved that you were nearly naked and he was still dressed up.

You shimmied into the red dress and moved closer to the mirror. It was a mirror that had soft lighting around it so you looked at all of your angles in the three way mirror. It wasn’t zipped yet but already felt amazing on your skin. You zipped it partially, just to see how it looked and you were amazed by how sexy you looked. Your necklace even sort of matched, the small, single pearl dangling against your neck.

You turned to Tyrone who grinned, flashing his fangs. “Irresistible,” he said.

Your cheeks warmed from his praise and you turned your head this way and that. “I like it, but I want to see the others,” you said.

Tyrone glanced at his watch. “We have time,” he said.

You tried on the other two dresses which were just as gorgeous. Different styles and fabrics and you nearly moaned when you wore the purple one. However, you felt like the red dress matched you better and it matched his suit without looking too much like you were on a prom date.

The sales clerk reentered as you were slipping on the red one once more. “We’ll take all three,” Tyrone said.

You squealed and clapped your hands together. Then, you went over to the rack. Your shoe size. How he knew such things was beyond you. Maybe his vision allowed him to see your shoe size one day. Maybe after so many years of being alive, he just knew by sight alone.

“Tell me about your family,” Tyrone said as you perused the offerings. Some were a little too high for you. You wanted to be sexy, not fall flat on your ass.

“What do you wanna know?” You asked.

“I wanna know everything,” he said.

You giggled. “Not much to tell. There’s not much of us left. I come from a small family of a small family. I didn’t grow up with a lot of cousins or siblings. I have an annoying ass little brother and a mom. My dad died when I was younger, back in high school. In fact, we joke that there’s a family curse,” you said.

You selected a pair of heels, putting them on to get the full effect. It added to your height, but not so much that you felt unsteady.

“What do you mean by family curse?” Tyrone asked.

“The women in my family tend to die young in freak accidents. My grandma was one of the oldest in the family for the longest,” you said. It still hurt you terribly thinking of your grandmother. No one knew her secret and she didn’t write it down anywhere.

Your mother was just as afraid of dying as you were. There was no way to prove a curse, but as far back as anyone could tell, your matrilineal line dwindled each generation. Fewer daughters were getting born. Your grandma was an only girl, your mother an only girl, and now you.

“Why do you ask?” You asked. You went back to the shoe rack picking out two more pairs of shoes to match your dresses. Your friends were going to scream in jealousy when they saw these. Especially London’s bitch ass. You couldn’t tell them you were dating a vampire, but you could tell them you were dating a rich club owner.

You smiled evilly in the mirror as you imagined what London would say. How she would try her best to act like she wasn’t hating. She could be happy if she left Carlos’ ass alone.

“I’m trynna see if you have witches in your family,” Tyrone said.

You giggled. “Ah, no. I think we’re the total opposite of witches,” you said. Witches would know how to fight off a death curse.��

Your thoughts turned towards being a vampire. You could do it. You could spare a future child from living without her mother. There was no rhyme or reason to how the women in your family died. Some were burned alive, drowned, at a young age, or at an old age. That was the scariest part.

You and your mother fought like hell not to be paranoid. To live your lives to the fullest. If you became a vampire, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. You weren’t sure how you would explain it to your mom, but she’d have to be happy in the long run right?

“You sure there’s no magic in your blood at all?” He asked.

You walked away from the mirror, moving to sit in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

“I just want to learn more about you, promise,” he said. He smiled. “Ready?”

You nodded. Luckily, your hair was already up and didn’t look half bad. You were glad you opted to put some care into it. You’d have been mortified to walk into that event looking crazy. Like lipstick on a pig. Wearing nice clothes but everything else to the wayside.

After getting the bags in the car, Tyrone took you to a makeup store. You told him it was backwards, that you do hair and makeup first and then put on the dress. He smiled. “You just focus on staying sexy and I’ll worry about everything else,” he said.

You shrugged. You weren’t going to argue. After, you were finally on your way to whatever event it was that Tyrone was attending.

He pulled into a fancy hotel in Downtown LA, the sprawling entrance trying its hardest to compete with a nicer city. Still, it was gorgeous with a fountain out front. Tyrone stepped out and opened the door for you.

You really did feel like a doll. He helped you out and you promptly took his arm. Heads turned in your direction as Tyrone handed off his keys to the valet. Yeah, you knew you looked damn good. Like celebrities walking the red carpet.

Tyrone led you towards a banquet hall. Inside, there were hundreds of people dressed up and rubbing elbows. It was like a sea of beautiful Black people. There was a spattering of white people, but the room screamed Black excellence. Was everyone here a vampire? Couldn’t be if you were here. You doubted they’d want a human knowing their inner workings.

You looked towards a banner for answers and found that it was some type of medical charity. You looked closer and noticed that it was for a children’s charity. Aww. You looked at Tyrone with a knowing smile.

“Like I said, I have enough money to buy the world ten times over. Good to do something meaningful with it. Not to mention, it keeps the hospitals on our side. The ones we don’t own won’t look too hard at us,” he said.

You shook your head, laughter spilling from your lips. “Why is that not surprising?”

You needed to ask if there was some type of donor class you could take. An introduction to vampirism and how there was one on every corner. Your neighbor could be one. Your night time nurse could be one. They weren’t always the bloodthirsty demons the media made them out to be.

You were sure there was probably thousands of acres of land out there covering up vampire kills. You were sure that with one look, they could rip your head off and suck your innards. But no one came after you just because they thought your blood smelled that good. No one was rolling your mind on the regular to lure you into a trap.

There were rules and you wanted to know those rules. You wanted to know everything. If you were going to do what your mind was thinking, you wanted to be well-informed.

“This is a vampire event. Not only are we discussing roll out donations to hospitals, we’re also keeping up with the lastest noise from law enforcement, witches, and vampire hunters. The modern age has made it easier than ever to hide but also to expose us. Vampires are cool now, you’ve learned to stop being afraid of us,” he said. He grinned at your expression, no doubt smelling the spike of fear that went through you.

You wondered if he could also smell that hit of attraction. Did he know that the thought of being at his mercy was a turn on?

He removed his glasses since he was among friends. The door you had entered through was covered up by thick curtains. No one would know that there was a vampire party in this room.

“Since it’s sort of informal, donors are allowed to come,” he said. He led you around the room, pointing out auction items. No one really loses their interest in stuff. Vampires gained and lost areas of study over the years. The pyramids, Ancient Greece, mythology, etc. Sometimes one was willing to part with their items.

“What’s your interest?” You asked.

“Legacy,” he said. He grinned at you. “I collect historical items that represent great acts of service or immortality. Like the Holy Grail, the arrow that went through Achilles, a mirror from Helen of Troy, a cane from King Ghezo of Dahomey,” he said.

His voice went up a little as he spoke about his items. They must really mean that much to him. “There’s so much I need to know,” you said and giggled.

You stopped by a standing table, the surface of the glass just high enough above your waist for comfort. A waiter walked by with champagne flutes. Others walked with wine. Hm, maybe not wine. You squinted but wasn't entirely sure.

Tyrone grabbed two flutes, holding onto the darker liquid one and handing you the champagne. Blood then.

“That’s actually my fault. I kind of skipped a few steps inviting you into this life,” he said.

“What kind of steps?”

“Usually we select our donors more carefully. Choose those already drawn to the supernatural, even for silly reasons. If they are capable of acknowledging that supernatural creatures can exist. We talk, answer questions, slowly get used to knowing that we are real. Donors are expected to offer up potential for blackmail should they want to out us,” he said. “Sex is the strongest motivator.”

And if a room full of people could claim they saw you busting it down, or that there was a video of you sucking Tyrone’s dick, you damn sure weren’t going to say anything. Should it freak you out that you were on a flash drive somewhere? In a file marked for blackmail?

Not really. Wasn’t anything crazier than the sex tape you made with an ex. You watched as he deleted everything after you broke up. All but the copy you had. If he had a secret one, he never posted it to any porn site you’d been to.

“Definitely has my seal of loyalty,” you said. You smiled. “I get it. You have to protect this,” you said.

“Well, this is cute,” Tyrone’s eyes narrowed. You turned your head to who had spoken.

A Black man stood before you with a long but sweet face, big like a football player, and wearing a nice dark suit. On his arm, there was a leggy Black woman with a small, rounded face like an actual doll. She was so gorgeous with midnight skin glistening in the fluorescent lighting.

She winked at you and flashed a hit of fang. Fuck, there were so damn cute together, it was killing you.

Tyrone stepped closer behind you, placing a hand on your hip. “Isaac,” Tyrone said.

“There’s been some talk about you getting a new donor. How you doin’ sweetheart?” Isaac asked.

You lifted an eyebrow at his date. She was just going to let that slide? She winked again and looked you up and down. Maybe you misinterpreted that earlier wink.

“She’s with me,” Tyrone said.

You wanted to look at him to confirm. That he really was just publicly claiming you like that. But you were picking up hella tension. Your intuition was usually spot on so you stayed a silent and united front with Tyrone.

“Ah, I see, I see. Too bad. She likes to play with her donors,” Isaac said.

You looked at his date and she smiled. If you weren’t head over heels for Tyrone, you would definitely try to see what that was like.

“I also heard that you had switched up your look. Walkin’ around with grills. Got me to thinkin’ that Fo-”

“Do you mind giving us a moment? There’s a lot of donors here,” he said.

You weren’t sure what this Isaac person was on about but you wanted to know more. Your nosy nature landed you in trouble all the time. But you just liked to think you were curious. You nodded and moved away, shoulders slumping that you couldn’t listen to more.

You walked over to the bar and got some water, feeling a little woozy from lack of food. Tyrone promised that you weren’t staying too long and that he would most certainly feed you. You were pretty sure he was talkin’ nasty. Everything he said sounded nasty when it dripped from those sexy lips.

“Are you a donor too?” You turned to see some of the few non-Black people here. Even in supernatural-land you couldn’t escape Black men chasing after them.

You nodded. “Oh my god! It’s so hard to tell sometimes,” she said.

You told them your name and they told you theirs. “Which one are you?” The ringleader, Summer, asked you.

She was a peaked, skinny girl with stringy blonde hair and one too many freckles. Out of the mountains that God sculpted Black women out of, these niggas still went for flat plains.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you the second donor or…?”

“Does it matter?” You asked. Nothing about this girl seemed genuine. You didn’t like how she asked all of these questions or that her friends stayed silent as if you were in a teenage movie.

“You the third one?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. One of the girls behind her smirked and you looked back at Summer.

“How long have you been a donor? I know how easy it is to get mixed up, since they rotate so often,” she said. She smiled like she was your friend. You hated nice-nasty bitches like this. What was with the hostility?

Why couldn’t they have a nice conversation and bond over being blood bags for vampires? It was straight to competition mode and you were sick of it. As if the bitch could compete with someone as gorgeous as you?

If nothing else, it was the audacity. You were minding your Black ass business and the snow patrol had to come in and break it up.

“Maybe you just can’t satisfy your vampire. Not if it takes more than one of you at a time,” you said.

Summer’s face dropped down in surprise. “I have class so I won’t give you any details, however, just know that my vampire is well taken care of. Evening ladies,” you said. You turned and headed far, far away from them.

“God, I’ve been waiting for someone to shut that ho up.” You passed by a tall Black woman with sun in her veins. Her deep brown skin was beautiful, exposed by her dark green dress. She was small up top, but more than made up for it in the ass and hips department.

And why was everyone so fucking pretty? It wasn’t fair.

You stopped walking. “I’m Nikki,” she said. You introduced yourself.

“The bitch of the ball?” You asked, nodding your head in Summer’s direction.

“She gets off on making donors cry because her poor mean Daddy won’t pay attention to her,” Nikki mocked, mimicking a baby voice.

“Fuck, that’s annoying,” you said.

“Right! She’s also probably mad because she’s been throwing herself at Tyrone for years. He won’t even acknowledge she exists,” Nikki said.

“I figured there was some jealousy in there,” you said.

“Isn’t it always though?” She asked.

For the next twenty minutes or so, you bonded with Nikki instantly. You were so in sync, it was maddening. You were into the same kind of things, loving movies and lounge dates, not one for a big overcrowded clubs. You were exchanging numbers with her when Tyrone finally found you.

“Good?” He asked.

You introduced him to Nikki who told you that she was here for another vampire. Tyrone knew that one and said she had a good one. She excused herself, with a promise to text you.

“Everything good with you?” You asked.

“Fine. Isaac is a business rival. He likes to get under my skin so I can brag about my next move,” he said.

“Does he think you’re that stupid?” You asked.

“Apparently. The mu’fucka keep tryin’ it,” he said. You giggled. Your stomach also rumbled.

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. “Forgive me, let’s get you some food. Anything you want,” he said.

“Anything?” You asked.

“Anything,” he said and smiled. He pecked your lips, hummed a little, and brought his lips back to yours. “That’s what I’ve been missing all night. Some lovin’.”

You told him that you wanted to go to a restaurant on the PCH. Gladstone’s was a celebration destination, right off the coast of the beach. It overlooked the ocean and there were barrels of peanuts you could snack on and throw the shells underfoot. It would absolutely ruin your shoes, but you’d just make Tyrone buy you some more.

Hell, maybe a whole fleet of the same shoes. So you could mess them up every night wearing them to bed with him.

“After dinner, you can get all the lovin’ you want,” you said.

His eyes turned a shade darker, the red still a shock to you. He pulled you closer to him. “Don’t tease me, little doll,” he said.

You grinned. “The usual? Food and fuck?” You said. You slid your hands into his. He laughed, that wide smile tearing you up inside. You wanted to see that smile on his face all the time.

“In that order,” he said. He led you outside to his car and soon you were flying down the street, wind whipping through the open windows for a night of great food, sights, and Tyrone’s body covering yours.

Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #Midnight Sin Series #Vampire!Tyrone #Vampire Tyrone #Vampire!Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyrone x Black reader #x Black reader #x Fem reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x plus size reader #They Cloned Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone fanfic #They Cloned Tyrone fan fic #They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction #They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction #They Cloned Tyrone

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morfiveuscxo · 8 months

Text

TLC, buggy the clown

la!!buggy the clown x fem!!reader summary: y/n is one of Buggy's newest additions to his freakshow and after a particularly rough show he looks to her for comfort. tw!! fluff (like a lot of it), pining (mutual), angst if you squint. notes: I tried as hard as I could to make Buggy as in-character as possible in this I swear to god. It was so hard, guys.

y/n turns her head away from the mirror with the lights. She was still dressed in her circus outfit which consisted of a tight purple tank top and a black poofy skirt with sparkly suspenders, bright purple fishnets covered her pale legs.

Her face was previously painted white with sparkly black mime makeup and a fake bright red clown nose. Since the show ended an hour ago she had wiped it off leaving just the fake red nose on her face.

Her head had turned towards the door, seeing Cabajji standing there with a rather nervous look on his face. --"The captain's asking for you..."He told her, swallowing.

The show tonight hadn't gone as brilliantly as their captain, Buggy had hoped. A ton of the cast were late to their ques, the crowd were all over the place with their orders- it was just a total disaster tonight which obviously led their usually jolly captain in a bad mood.

But she wasn't nervous when hearing that Buggy was asking for her. She had never really been afraid of him. Running a hand through her red hair, she stood up to her feet, wobbling a little in the heels Buggy had forced her to wear for the show.

Cabajji gave her an almost sympathetic smile and patted the door. --"He's in his room. Could you let him know the rest of us are going out for a drink?"He asked and she nodded, moving past him.

Cabajji would have told the captain himself but he knew that Buggy was less likely to get angry if it came from y/n. He had a soft spot for her.

After bidding him goodnight, y/n wobbled past him and down the hall towards Buggy's room. She took maybe ten steps before ultimately giving up and slipping the heels off, leaving her to shrink back down to her full height of 5'4.

With aching calves, she found herself back in front of Buggy's cabin door. Heart beating loudly against her ribcage, she lifted a hand to lightly tap her knuckles against the door.

A muffled 'come in' is heard from behind the door. Swallowing, she pushed down the handle on the door and slipped through the crack, shutting it back over behind her.

Her heart dropped when she saw Buggy sitting at the edge of his bed, his shoulders sagged in an uncharacteristically sad manner. With a soft frown, she walked over to him, setting her heels on the ground next to the door.

She sank to her knees in front of Buggy, sitting on the carpet in the space between his legs. This wasn't the first time they had been in this position, which is part of the reason why she wasn't nervous to comfort him.

Lifting a hand up, she rested it against his cheek- feeling him lean into the touch with his eyes shut. --"Where's that smile?" She asked in an attempt to cheer him up, her voice softer than honey.

Buggy lifted a gloved hand to rest against the hand that caressing his cheek, his eyes fluttering open to look at her. y/n's heart stuttered a little in her chest when their eyes met.

He turned his face against her hand so he could press a light and tender kiss to her palm. He had done this numerous times before but it never failed to make her blush.

"Not up to smiling, toots."He simply responded and she nodded her head in response, plastering a smile onto her face. --"Guess I'll have to do all of the smiling for you then."She joked, an overexaggerated grin appearing on her face as she continued to attempt to make him feel better.

And it seemed to work for a brief moment as a chuckle fell past his painted lips. --"Tonight was a mess..."He mumbled and she shook her head, lifting a finger to press against his lips.

"Every good show had a bad day. We'll do better tomorrow."She told him, nodding her head encouragingly. Her bright attitude seemed to put a small smile on the captain's face and her lips turn upwards.

"See, there's that smile..."She trailed off, tracing the pads of her thumbs up and down his cheekbones. Buggy's chest felt heavy as he looked at her.

He always went to her for comfort. She had only been with the crew for 6 months but they just got each other. She was the only person he felt comfortable enough to just sit and air it all out. The same goes for her part. She never felt judged when she was with him.

They always sought words of comfort in each other and nothing more. But the 'nothing more' is what they had both been thinking about recently.

Sure, they were attracted to each other but were they willing to risk what working relationship they had?

Buggy seemed to have already made his mind up as he looped one of his gloved fingers with one of the fingers on her hand which was pressed against his cheek.

"Stay with me?"He murmured to her, a hopeful look appearing in his blue eyes. He felt a little pathetic and if it had been anyone else he would have just forced them to stay with him, but not y/n.

Her heart stuttered again at the question as she found herself nodding her head. Hell, Buggy could ask her to slip a knife between her ribcage right now and she would probably go along with it.

Her eyes danced across his face and she swallowed. --"Do you wear your clown makeup to bed?"She asked, curious. Buggy raised an eyebrow, he hadn't expected that question.

He shrugs in response. --"Only if I forget to take it off."He responded, his voice gruff. She hummed and stood to her feet.

Buggy watched her walk over to his desk, his eyebrows pulling together as he leaned back on his mattress with the help of his hands.

After a few seconds, she turned around with a packet of wipes in her hands. --"This packet is full, Buggy."She was almost scolding him as she walked back over to him.

"So?"He murmured, watching her return back to the spot she had been sitting in before, sitting the packet of wipes next to her. She scoffs a little at his tone.

"What do you mean 'so'? you have got to take better care of your skin."She told him. --"What you need is some TLC."She said with a grin. He leaned forward to pull off the fake clown nose she had forgotten she was still wearing.

He completely ignored her scrutinising. --"heh, you look cute with the big red nose."He compliments. Her cheeks heat as she starts to pull a wipe out from the packet she had retrieved from his desk.

"So do you."She retaliated, pushing herself up onto her knees so she was a little closer to his face. Buggy's throat goes dry at the sudden closeness.

"not according too-"He started off only for her to interrupt him, lifting the wet wipe to his cheek. --"I don't care what others say. Your nose is what makes you unique and cool."She told him, her eyes not looking into his and instead focusing on where she was scrubbing his face.

Her words forced him into silence, and he pondered her words as she gently wiped off his clown makeup. She had never actually seen him without his theatric circus makeup so imagine her surprise at the man underneath it.

A small chuckle bubbled up her throat as she wiped away the remainder of his makeup. --"You never told me you had such a handsome face underneath the chaos." She comments, rubbing off some of the red makeup around his lips.

Buggy's throat goes dry again at her words, his cheeks turning the same colour as his red makeup. After a few more moments, she had thrown the wipe to the ground with a soft smile on her face.

"There. All done."She told him, standing up to throw the wipe in the bin. Buggy glanced over to his reflection in the mirror above his desk, y/n's words filling him with the tiniest amount of confidence.

His eyes then found her. He took notice that she was still in her circus outfit. Feeling his gaze on her, she glanced down and shook her head.

"I, uh, didn't get the chance to change..."She trailed off with a nervous chuckle. She nodded her head over to the heels she had discarded at his door. --"Those heels you make me wear are real killers."She mused, folding her arms over her chest as Buggy stood his feet.

She almost shrank back as he walked over to her, his figure craning over hers. His gaze falls to her legs for a moment before a blush coated his cheeks and he forced himself to look back up at her face.

"I, uh-"He paused to clear his throat, --"You can borrow a shirt if you want."he offered. An appreciative smile appears on her face as she nods her head.

"I'd appreciate that."She told him. With a nod, she watched Buggy walk over and begin to look through the clothes in his drawers.

Standing by almost nervously, she glanced down at her chipped nails. A frown settled on her face when she noticed the chip, deciding she would add a fresh coat tomorrow before the show.

Eventually, Buggy spun back around with an accomplished grin on his face and a shirt in his hands. y/n took in the details of his grin without the company of his clown makeup, her cheeks heating.

Her silence only had Buggy frown, nerves settling in as he remembered he was bare-faced. Noticing his nerves, her brown eyes widened and she walked towards him, shaking her head.

"Hey, no."She said defiantly as she reached him, resting a hand on his shoulder. --"You look great, Buggy."She informed him with a pointed look.

Her face was close to his as she scolded him for even thinking bad thoughts about his appearance. In her eyes Buggy is perfect. He will always be perfect in her eyes.

Buggy eyed her, his chest feeling heavy again. --"Why are you so good to me?"He mumbled to her. She blinked in surprise at the question, not expecting it.

But she didn't miss a beat with her response. --"Because I care about you, Buggy."She told him lifting her hand to rest against his cheek again. --"And I want you to see yourself how I see you."She told him, standing a little closer to him as she spoke.

By now they were a few inches apart, their chests nearly touching. Buggy suddenly lifted both of his gloved hands to rest against her face. If he stood this close to any of his other crew members they would be flinching back in fear but not y/n. She would never be frightened of him.

He always had treated her differently.

She leaned into his touch as he took a small step closer, their feet touching. Her chest, too, started to feel heavy as she watched his gaze flicker between her brown eyes and her smooth lips.

The tension snapped as his lips hesitantly moved to press against hers. She felt him tilt his head as her hands clutched his vest and tugged him closer to her.

The kiss was soft. There was no neediness or frustration behind it. It was sweet. Her lips moved up into a smile as she stood on her toes, feeling him rest his hands on her hips.

Buggy was certain that his heartbeat was in his ears. He was holding his breath as his lips slid softly against hers, his hands switching between resting on her hips and her jaw. The fear of messing this up was prominent in the back of his mind but he must be doing something right if she hadn't moved away in disgust yet.

After around 10 more seconds she pulled back and held a finger up between their mouths with a small smile. --"As much as I would love to keep doing this-"She grabbed the clothes from Buggy's hands. --"I need to change."She reminded him.

Buggy stood dazed as he watched her disappear into his bathroom with his clothes, the door shutting behind her. He stood there feeling as though he was going to fall over from the shakiness in his legs.

He hadn't planned on kissing her it seemed to just happen on instinct. Not that he was complaining. Apparently, he stood there like this for a while because he was still standing there in a daze when she walked out of the bathroom.

His shirt reached mid-thigh but she didn't mind. She walked over to put her own clothes next to her heels. His limbs finally started to work as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

She raised an eyebrow. --"Do you sleep in that?"She giggled, gesturing to his clothing. He glanced down and shrugged his shoulders. --"Most of the time, yeah."He responded as she walked closer to him.

He eyed her with a dazed look in his eyes. --"You look good in my shirt, sweets."He comments, leaning forward to grab her wrist and tug her closer to him so she is standing between his legs.

A bashful smile appeared on her face as he wrapped both arms around her waist in a bold manner. A thoughtful smile appeared on her face as she rested her hands on his cheeks.

"What is it?"He asked, tilting his head to the side. She shrugged, biting her top lip as she smiled. --"I'm just happy I managed to cheer you up is all."She responded, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his forehead.

His eyes shut at the feeling of her lips against his forehead, his heart swelling in his ribcage with uncertainty. He wasn't used to this sort of affection.

But he craved the attention she gave him, just like how he craved the love from the crowd at his shows. He had been begging for some love all of his life and he had it now. He didn't plan on losing it any time soon.

She pulled back and swatted her hand against his bicep with a smile. --"Alright, is that seriously what you wear to sleep?"She questioned, raising an eyebrow. He hummed and shook his head. --"Nah, I usually sleep with nothing on but I doubt you want to see that in your first stay, toots."He smirked with his words, winking as he watched a blush rise to her cheeks at the thought.

Shaking her head, she moved away from his grip to plop down onto the bed next to him. --"At least take off the vest."She hummed, laying back against the pillows.

Buggy fought back a sarcastic response as he unbuckled his vest and slid it off. y/n slid underneath the covers, sighing contently as her red hair spread out against the pillow.

After a few moments, Buggy was joining her under the covers. He paused a little when feeling her almost instantly shuffle closer to him and rest her head on his bare chest.

His heart stuttered a little as he settled himself beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. This position was new to him but he wasn't complaining.

Nuzzling her face against his chest, she moved an arm to wrap around his waist, her eyes falling shut. A grin spread across Buggy's face as he leaned his cheek on the top of her head.

Reaching across, her turned off the lamp that sat beside his bed. Darkness coats the room as he feels her snuggle closer to him, a smile on her lips.

Pulling off his gloves, he sat them next to his lamp, his bare hands resting against her forearm. Grinning, he shut his own eyes, sleep almost instantly taking control of his form and hers.

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kitthepurplepotato · 1 year

Text

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Chapter 2. Meet the Menace!

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New to the story? Start here! -> PART 1

About this chapter:

Genre: Comedy

Pairing: Platonic Kirishima x Reader (the main story is Bakugo x Reader!)

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of old injuries (not described)

Summary: Kirishima is an angel. His intentions were nothing but pure; to find his emotionally constipated bestie Katsuki a partner, but after meeting you on a job interview he decided that having someone entertain him and the team is more important than Bakugo’s well-being. Oh well, he really tried.

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Everyone loves Kirishima-kun.

Kirishima-kun is an angel.

He’s always the first one to arrive to the office, and he makes sure there is freshly brewed coffee ready for his grumpy ass colleagues, fresh cow milk and almond milk for them to choose from, and on his shopping days he always buys snackies for the staff room for everyone to munch on, even though he gets told off every time by Mr. Katsuki for making the fellow heroes “fat”.

Sometimes, Katsuki brings random veggies in and hides them between the cookies to make himself feel better about the massive amount of sugar in the room.

Needless to say, no one ever eats those veggies, mostly because they think it’s probably poisoned.

While it might look like Kirishima is nothing more than a fellow colleague in this massive office, he actually owns half of the agency.

It’s really hard to have any kind of power when your partner is Dynamight himself.

Katsuki is… a special kind of breed. Kirishima knows he shouldn’t be too harsh on his best friend but sometimes he thinks he’s not even a human.

If he is, he needs to get laid as soon as possible.

Katsuki is so emotionally constipated, it’s painful to watch. So Kirishima has a plan.

A really amazing, but slightly unprofessional plan.

Oh well, if he goes down, he wants to go down with style.

When Hanako-Chan came into his office to talk, Kirishima knew shit will go loose.

Hanako-Chan is the only person who never goes to Kirishima, as she is more than happy to consult with the grumpy one when it’s needed; for her to come to him meant nothing but trouble.

And oh boy, Kirishima can already see Katsuki’s tear-flooded eyes staring at him from his couch, the empty wine bottles around him all over the floor, spilling on his white, fluffy carpet. Katsuki might be emotionally constipated, but after a few big gulps of red wine he becomes an emotional, uncontrollable mess.

With that said, Katsuki is banned from drinking wine in front of anyone else but Kirishima.

It’s just… bad for the business.

Kirishima takes a deep breath and gets to work on his amazing plan; getting Katsuki the most badass assistant the world has ever seen.

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This is not what you wanted, but you will take what you get.

You are greeted by a lovely red haired man in his absolutely gorgeous hero costume, which is basically… well… his naked, toned upper body and some black trousers.

You might feel like it’s a tiny bit unprofessional, but who are you to tell your future boss what to do with his life?

You do you, Boo. - that’s your motto.

You sit down on the sofa in your fancy, super smart looking dress - you honestly can’t wait to go home and change into your favorite boots. You miss your comfy clothes and you really hope you’ll be able to wear whatever you want after you get hired.

Talking about getting hired…

“So let’s start this, shall we?” Says the red haired hero with a friendly smile on his cute face. You are not going to lie, while you understand why chicks (and dudes) love this guy so much, you are kinda sick of seeing his puppy face all over the place. He’s your best friend’s favorite, so there isn’t a single picture on the internet you haven’t seen.

He’s a nice chap though. You can always appreciate a man who doesn’t look at your cleavage, just because it’s visible. He is definitely a good bargain. You might need to do some meddling. You are kinda in a mood to go on a wedding anyway in a “I’m going to ruin your happiness because I’m lonely and sad” kinda way.

Hm, maybe ruining your best friend’s wedding isn’t the way to go though.

Wait, this is really not a good time to have this conversation with yourself. Red Riot is talking to you.

“So why did you choose our agency?”

No, saying “Number 1 Deku’s agency didn’t have a job available, neither did Number 3 Shouto who’s great to look at at least.” isn’t an answer.

Neither is “I’m bored”.

“My friend said a lot of nice things about this agency so I decided to give it a try.” You smile politely. It’s quite a vague answer but it’s still better than “my friend is obsessed with you so she made me apply.”

“Fair enough.” He smiles back at you. Even his eyes are smiling. He is definitely a cheesy romantic guy. Eww. “Your CV is amazing and I am really surprised to see you applying for the secretary job instead of being a side kick, or to be honest, you could just make your own agency with your experience. So what brings you here today, Y/N?”

Well. Time to rip that band-aid off. You don’t really like to talk about that terrible fight with a level S villain, but the truth is, you need to. You were known to be invincible as your quirk is basically being able to have any quirk you want for a certain amount of time and you can use multiple quirks at the same time if you really put your mind to it and concentrate. This is all nice and good but you are only a human and one mistake almost cost your life.

“I… I got seriously injured while trying to take down a group of villains back in my country.” You say, feeling so weak and pathetic already. “I’m not able to do hero work for at least a year as my body gets fed up after a few days of physical work, so I decided to move to Japan as it was always my dream to be here. My best friend is from Japan and I tend to visit her quite a lot anyway. She’s obsessed with the Japanese hero system, so obviously, I got curious about them too and what’s better that to work with them?”

You hope you sounded genuine, because to be honest… you were not.

Yes, you have all the respect for the heroes but you give zero F-cks about them. You hate how idolized these heroes are and while they are all good people to a certain degree; they save lives on a daily basis after all; being a hero and being a proper human being is two different things.

You are only here because you miss the adrenaline and you miss being able to help in one way or another. If you can’t do what you want to do, then do something for the people who can.

Goddamit, that sounds so dope, you should have said that in the first place!

You are so deep in your thoughts you don’t realize the frown on your face. Kirishima, the angel he is, clocks your uncomfortable mood right away.

Damn, you might not give this man to your bestie, he is a catch.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” Says the angel himself, remorse clearly written on his face.

“Oh, no, it’s absolutely not about that!” You say without hesitation. “I just made a really cool line in my head and I was furious I haven’t said it out loud.”

Jesus, you are such an idiot, it hurts.

“For the fuck’s sake, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Oh my god, please shut up.

“Oh fuck, sorry for swearing.”

This interview is definitely over.

“Aaaaaaand I just swore again. Great. I’m just…” You stand up from the sofa in the middle of your sentence. “I remember where the exit is, no need to escort me out. Thank you for your time and all that shit.”

For your absolute surprise, instead of the awkward silence you were expecting, loud laughter fills the room. The man is literally hyperventilating. Maybe you should call an ambulance, this man is having a seizure.

I mean, the situation is awkward enough to feel like you just want to die, so you can absolutely relate.

“Oh my god, you are absolutely hilarious.” Tears are falling from the man’s face, body scrunched up, he’s literally about loose his consciousness by the sound of his wheezing. “Is this your real self? Because if it is, you are hired. We will have so much fun having you around.” Says the crying redhead in front of you. This man has lost his marbles. “You two will be the funniest together, oh my god!”

His name shouldn’t be Red Riot.

RED FLAG suits him better. He is insane. You need to keep your bestie as far away as possible from this lunatic.

“Your sadistic thoughts are clearly written on your face Mister, behave yourself.” You giggle, shocking Mr. Kirishima with your pure honesty.

“Is it that obvious?” The readhead bites his lips to hide his cheeky smirk, unsuccessfully.

“If by obvious you mean it’s clear that you want your best friend to suffer miserably for your own entertainment, then yes, sir.”

“Well, first of all, it’s not just for MY entertainment. It’s for the team. And keep this a secret, will ya?” Your new boss winks at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“I’m more than happy to help. I’m a hero after all.” Comes your answer.

As you are about to leave with a new contract in your hand, your eyes find a big bowl of snackies on Kirishima’s desk. You don’t really understand the chocolate chip cookie x carrot sticks combo, but with a newly founded confidence you take a carrot out of the bowl and take a big bite out of it.

You have a fucking job. In Japan. Your boss is an absolute maniac, just like you.

This is definitely the best day of your life.

… Next Chapter

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Taglist: @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #platonic kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #ShenanigansbyPurplePotato #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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readingismyhappyplacee · 2 years

Text

Kiss, Marry, Kill.

Summary: You go to a Halloween party where your crush happens to be, but something goes wrong.

Warnings: Foul language, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol, and smoking. Probably 16+.

Class just let out, the bell signalling the end of the block and the end of the day for all students. It was Friday and Y/N was exhausted. Her studies have been keeping her busy and she had little to no down time lately. Her professors non the less didn’t care that she was swamped with homework so there was absolutely no use asking for help or even for extensions. They just wouldn’t understand her struggles.

Y/N met her closest friends, Maisie and Kat at her locker, eyeing the text in the group chat that read:

Y/N’s locker, pronto! - Kat

She started the route to her locker. The hallway was thinning as she passed students who just wanted to get home. Some were in costumes but most were too embarrassed to wear something so obvious. She could see the top of a witch hat in the distance and laughed. Kat loved to dress up. She was extremely talented in makeup and used halloween as a chance to show off her skills on a more extreme level. Y/N and Maisie on the other hand, followed suit with the rest of the school, opting more so on earrings or a pair of animal ears. As she approached her two best friends, she could pick out the almost sinister grins on their faces.

“What is with that look you two? What do you know that I don’t? Spill.” She said.

“Well… A little birdie told me you-know-who is gonna be at the party tonight!” Maisie answered first. Kat giggled, “we overheard in English, all his friends are going too!” She gave Maisie a glance.

“And why would that be a big deal?” Y/N teased.

“Oh come on! You’ve been in love with him forever! Don’t play dumb!”

“No I mean why would his friends be a big deal, yeah now i’m nervous, I didn’t think he would be there, I guess i’ve thought about it before but - NO MAISIE WHO IS IT NOW?” Y/N groaned. Maisie gave a small giggle. She has a tendency to move on to a different guy every month. First it was a senior that she had never talked to before, then it was a coworker at Save-on and you get the idea. Though apparently the cycle has never ended as long as Y/N knew her. Maisie definitely had a type and stuck to it. Tall, brunette, rich and into cars. Unfortunately school doesn’t have that many of the sort to choose from.

“Let me guess Maisie, is it Ryder?”

She faked a swoon, “Oh how did you guess so easily?”

“Girl, he drives a Beamer, of course you’re into him.”

“Ha. Fair point” She shrugged.

Y/N zoned out of the conversation. All she could think about was C/N and the possibilities of what tonight would hold. Sure they’ve talked a number of times and shared a few classes, but there was no way that he harboured the same feelings. She could daydream all she wanted about him and his fluffy hair, how strong he was or how smart he was, but what is the use if he wouldn’t do the same? He’s all a girl could ask for.

After gathering their belongings to take home for the weekend, the three friends walked to Maisie’s house to get ready for the party. The trio was extremely excited to show off their costume idea they had been brewing up for weeks. It was Kat’s idea: Kiss, Marry and Kill. Y/N was kiss, she wore a red skirt with a lace corset, red lipstick and eyeshadow (that Kat had to apply for her), a heart headband, and red lipstick marks on both cheeks, courtesy of Maisie. She looked like Valentine’s Day on the red carpet. Maisie was marry, short white dress and veil, bouquet of fireball shots on sticks, white gloves and a daring pair of heels. Kat was kill. She loved dressing in black. Her makeup was changed to black eyeshadow, eyeliner and lipstick. She wore a black strapless dress that was certainly not school appropriate. To finish it off she put fake blood along her neck to articulate a knife slash and tucked a fake plastic knife into the band of her dress. Each girl has their respective word on their chest in hopes people would understand to some degree of what they were going for.

After snapping a couple pictures for Insta later, and eating dinner, the girls hopped in a taxi to the party.

“Who’s house is it again?” Maisie questioned, booze already in hand.

“Cash. I texted him earlier, he has a bonfire outside. Fuck we forgot chairs!” Y/N laughed at Kat’s outburst.

The atmosphere wasn’t too cold for late October. The stars were out and the taxi passed tons of trick-or-treaters on the road. It was the perfect weather for Halloween night and the excitement only grew in Y/N’s core. She couldn’t wait to get drunk and maybe sneak a few glances at C/N. As the girls neared the party, the sound of music and partygoers could be heard and the giant bonfire blast a vibrant light against the trees surrounding the property. Y/N and her friends weren’t really dressed for a cold night, but the fire would suffice.

Thanking the taxi driver, the girls hopped out and walked down the long driveway. Y/N instantly regretted her choice of heels. When they arrived amidst the chaos, Y/N was immediately abandoned by her best friends for boys and drinks.

“Bitches.” She muttered under her breath. She found the drinks table and poured herself a cup. She grazed her eyes along the group of young people. Most were already hammered and dancing to the music. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted C/N. He was standing with his friends wearing a Toad costume. His bare chest was out for the world to see between the character’s vest and she could feel the heat coming to her cheeks. He had a mushroom hat on to finish the simple but cute costume. She would always be able to pick him out of a crowd. Y/N was interrupted in her thoughts by a figure clad in a Starbucks uniform.

“Hey Daniel, have you seen Kat anywhere?” She asked. Daniel slowly turned around, he was definitely drunk.

“Huh?” He managed to get out between sips. She took the cup away for a second.

“Kat? Where is she?”

“Oh hey Y/N what’s up bro, fuck I don’t know, probably over with Brad, heard they’ve been fucking. Can I have my drink back now? My song is playing.” He slurred.

“Every song is your song.” She laughed, handing his drink back.

Daniel walked towards the fire, leaving the girl alone again. She began looking for Brad. She knew he was one of C/N’s friends and she began to look for the group of boys again. Kat was so getting yelled at when they were both sober. She never talks about who she’s hooking up with! She quickly spotted C/N and his friends again, standing near the fire. Kat was there too, flirting with Brad in an obnoxious way.

“Bitch! Thanks for ditching me so soon!” Y/N greeted.

“Hey bitch! Sorry, Brad told me he brought me the good stuff!” She held up a lit joint, then passed it around the circle again. “You should join in!”

“Kat, you know I don’t smoke.”

“Fuck. Right. Sorry.”

“Y/N are you like cupid or something?” Austen, another friend of C/N’s looked her up and down.

“No i’m supposed to be kiss, as in like, kiss marry kill, you know?”

“Ha shit that’s clever! So are you just kissing whoever tonight or do I have to cut the line?” Austen gave her a flirty smile. Shit this was awkward, C/N was literally standing right there. She glanced at him slightly before answering.

“Uh, well no, ha ha. It’s just for the pun.”

“C’mon Y/N, you’re hot, I’m hot, it’s meant to be.” He leaned down over her, and man was he close to her face.

“And you’re tits look so good in that - hey!”

“She said no Austen, back off.” C/N stepped in, forcefully pushing Austen away from the girl and out of the circle. Y/N’s dropped her drink in surprise. A couple ‘ooh’s’ could be heard from the remainder of the group. The people nearby swarmed to see what the small commotion was about. Y/N’s cheeks burned. She didn’t enjoy being the centre of attention, but at least she wasn’t cold anymore.

“Fuck off dude, she’s free reign. I don’t see no fucking boyfriend around? Huh? Is it you pretty boy? Didn’t think so. Let me have her.” Austen moved back into the circle, glaring at C/N and glancing at Y/N again. He was so intoxicated it was scaring her. She didn’t know what to say so she moved to stand with Kat a few feet farther away.

“She said no man, leave her alone.” Ryan stepped in to help deescalate the situation. Grabbing his Austen’s shoulders and attempting to pull him towards a different area of the party. He was ashamed of his best friends behaviour.

“I just want a fucking kiss! Hey Y/N! Meet me behind the house and we can fuck too!”

Much to Y/N’s surprise, C/N punched Austen in the nose, knocking him to the ground. Stunned but not stopped, Austen stood up, wiped the blood from dripping into his mouth and punched C/N square in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards a few feet. Ryan quickly jumped between the two.

“Enough you little shits. Austen go clean your fucking face you look hideous.”

Angry to the boiling point, Austen stormed off to the house to use the bathroom. C/N, winded slightly, sat in a chair near the fire to calm down. Suddenly Maisie appeared to join her best friends as the crowd dispersed.

“Oh my god, Y/N what happened? We’re you hurt, I didn’t think this would involve you! I thought it was just the boys being boys again! You poor thing!” Maisie got white girl drunk, but also acted like the mom friend she usually is.

“I’m fine Mais, really. It was C/N that got hit. Austen was not leaving me alone.”

“Oh my god you should like, totally thank him, in like, a different way, if you know what I mean!” She suggestively stated.

“Maisie now is not the time. Sorry Y/N, maybe that costume wasn’t so great after all.” Kat joined in, seemingly more sober than before.

“I’m fine guys. I’m gonna go find him now and see if he’s alright.” Y/N brushed it off, only focused on the one boy that always consumes her thoughts.

“Wear protection!” Maisie screamed over the sound of the music. Y/N shot her a menacing look. She found C/N in a chair at the backside of the fire, farthest away from where the quarrel occurred. Only a few people were around that area. As she approached, C/N looked up at her.

“Hi.” He said.

“Hi. Thank you for sticking up for me. I’m not good in those types of situations and I’m glad you were there to stop him, well, sort of. Are you okay?” She glanced at his chest and then to his eyes. A quick blush adorned her face once again.

“It was nothing I promise and I’m okay, he’s not that strong anyways. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Thank god though, I really didn’t want to kiss him.”

“Would you kiss me?”

Suddenly, the world stopped. Suddenly, there was no blasting music, or drunk people around her. Suddenly, there was no sense of hot or cold and all was forgotten about Austen. There was only her and C/N.

“What?” She breathed, mouth agape.

“Here come sit.” He patted his lap once while looking at her. She silently accepted, sitting on his lap facing him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked politely. “I promise I’m not like that guy.”

Y/N nodded, too stunned to speak. C/N smiled down at her. He lifted her chin up with his hand and placed his lips onto hers. Y/N felt like she was on top of the moon. His lips were everything she imagined and more, but with a slight taste of the mango White Claw he was drinking previously. Holy shit this was happening. She placed her arms around his neck and silently prayed this wasn’t a dream. The kiss only broke when air was needed again. Her hands found his bare chest.

“See? I’m much more classy. A chair rather than behind a house!” He grinned, forehead against her forehead. Y/N gave him a joking slap.

“Don’t put that idea in my head again!” She laughed. C/N gave her another peck before leaning into her ear. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” Y/N blushed instantly.

“Thanks. Your costume is pretty cute too.” She replied.

“Had to get your attention somehow, but it happened another way instead.”

“Let’s go get another drink.” She smiled at him. She got up and C/N followed her through to the group where Y/N stopped for a moment.

“I’m not sure Kat, I think this costume was the perfect choice.” She looked at her best friend, then at C/N and smiled. She grabbed his hand and led him to the drinks table to enjoy the rest of the night together.

#crushxreader #crush #imagine #crush imagine #halloween #halloween party #protective #xreader #reader #crushimagines #crush imagines #crush x reader imagine

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kaze-writes · 1 month

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A/N: I don't think I've been this apprehensive to share a story in a long long time, and not (only) because it's a (mild) smut. I've spent months and months with Jaz, Leon and the crew but realised they've never been formally introduced to here so... be gentle with me them.

Infra-Red

Summary: In which Jaz and Leon get a little too distracted during an award show. Warning: This story contains explicit NSFW content. Anyone below the age of 18 or uncomfortable with this topic is advised not to interact.

Everyone's living in black and white We see each other in a different light That’s why I look at you like I do Like nobody else is even in the room

~ Three Days Grace - Infra-Red ~

Award shows were Jaz’s favourites.

There was just something about them - the colourful hustle and bustle, the tension and excitement, the sheer force of the emotions as prizes were handed out and tear-filled speeches were given on stage.

And then, there were the afterparties, of course; a chance for everyone to let down their hair without getting harassed by journalists. There usually was great music involved, free drinks, catching up with old friends and making new ones, the air abuzz with talent, inspiration and good vibes.

The particular award show the members of Equinox were currently headed to promised just that, and Jaz was fidgeting in her evening gown, impatient to finally get going. Jacques, the band’s stylist, tutted and slapped her hand away as she reached for the satin strap that had wandered up her shoulder.

“Stop that.” Giving her a disapproving look as he pulled the strap back into place. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Jaz glanced at herself in the floor-length mirror Jacques had set up. Self-consciously, she ran her hand over the shimmering red satin. “Is it really necessary to –”

“I spent an eternity sourcing this dress,” Jacques said sternly, brushing his hand almost reverently over the smooth fabric. “If you ruin this vision I created out of you, I’ll make you wear Primark for the rest of your miserable, unstylish life. Now stop complaining.”

“What’s wrong with Primark?”

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Jacques muttered, rubbing his temples and handing Jaz a bag that was so tiny she could hardly fit her phone, lipstick and a handful of hairpins in.

He ushered her out the door of the big townhouse in Kensington, belonging to Equinox’s manager and mentor Rich Cameron, to where the rest of the band was already waiting for their car to arrive.

Rich Cameron himself, dressed in a sharply tailored suit, was looking at his watch impatiently, typing something into his phone every now and again.

“About bloody time you got ready. I was about to go in there and get you out myself.”

“You can’t rush art,” Jacques said indignantly in Jaz’s stead, picking up his bag. He silently pointed at his eyes with one hand, then at Jaz but there was a gleam in his eyes as he blew them all a kiss and vanished into the brightly-lit London night.

Everett James, their band’s lead singer, raised his eyes from his phone and whistled audibly.

”Looking hot, Jaz.” He grinned at Leon, who stood next to him with an unreadable expression and elbowed him in the side. “I’m gonna need her standing next to me, that’s for sure.”

Leon mumbled something in return Jaz couldn’t hear and turned away, seemingly indifferent, but the appreciative flash in his eyes as he looked her up and down hadn’t been lost on Jaz. She knew that look. Warmth pooled in her stomach and she tried not to look at him further as they waited. She was going to have enough of it before the night was over.

Half an hour, two traffic jams and diversions and an almost-fit from Rich later, they finally arrived at the venue, the red carpet rolled out there flanked by rows of people clutching bulky, expensive-looking cameras. They began flashing as Mel stepped from their limousine first, sequins on her midnight blue suit rattling, and the screams and lights intensified when the whole ensemble finally posed side by side to have their picture taken.

Jaz embraced the hecticness, smiling at the photographers she soon wasn’t able to see from the blinding lights.

Next to her, Leon had casually shoved one hand into the pocket of his suit so that his stack of colourful bracelets was showing against his tanned skin, the other resting on the small of Jaz’s exposed back.

Her smile never faltered, but Jaz was aware of every point of skin Leon was touching with his fingers, a pleasant twist going through her stomach whenever he moved or adjusted his hand. He began tapping her skin, wandering them along her spine in movements too minuscule for anyone but her to notice. She shivered, her core pulling together. Fighting the urge to look at him, Jaz’s eyes and smile remained trained on the photographers documenting their every move, but she knew which look she’d find there if she did. The thought of his small, slightly crooked smile, which always made him look like he knew something no one else did, did nothing to make her body stop tingling.

They were about to head inside, already out of sight of the cameras, when Leon gently touched her arm.

Jaz obediently let herself fall back - subtly, so the others wouldn’t notice - and between two heartbeats, Leon bent down to her, his hot breath brushing her cheek as he whispered something into her ear. Then he was gone again, catching up to Mara, leaving Jaz to walk behind them with heat spreading from her stomach into the rest of her.

Their table was rather to the back of the room, further from the stage than Rich would have liked. He kept on complaining but Jaz didn’t mind the obscurity created by the spots directed at the front of the room. Mel was chatting to her about the results of last week’s football match - “Celtic should have gotten that penalty, I swear to bloody God!” - but Jaz couldn’t bring herself to do much more than nod every now and again. Beneath the table, Leon, who was sitting on her other side talking to Mara, had his leg pressed against hers, the heat coming off his body palpable despite the cool air streaming from the ventilation shafts. She could smell his aftershave, mixed with a subtle hint of the hairspray Jacques had used to give his hair the perfectly messed-up look that made Jaz want to run her hand through it. She was burning with impatience now, making her leg bounce up and down, causing even more friction between her and Leon.

Hadn’t she known better, she would've thought Leon hadn’t noticed her restlessness. He looked like nothing was amiss, the only indication of being aware of Jaz the shifting of his leg, brushing along the patch of bare skin accessible through the slit in her skirt, and the barely perceptible smirk he gave her when she tensed. Her leg bounced faster and she did her best not to squirm in her seat, biting her lip almost painfully to keep from gasping when he brought his hand to her thigh beneath the table and squeezed it tightly.

‘Go,’ his brief look at her seemed to say before he turned back to Mara again, and Jaz needn’t be told twice.

She raised herself from her seat and hastily left the table with a mumbled excuse. Even as she walked away, she could feel Leon’s eyes on her back. When she had left the increasingly bustling hall behind and entered the now quiet hallway, her phone buzzed in her handbag. She checked the message, looking left and right as she followed the short instructions on her screen.

Rounding a corner, even the last traces of activity ceased and Jaz was alone. A little further ahead, she could spot her destination but when she made her way to it, she found the door of the storage closet she’d been aiming at locked.

Well, shit.

Knowing that she couldn’t linger, Jaz unceremoniously plucked a pin from the elaborate updo Jacques had twisted her hair into and got to work. When Leon arrived a couple of minutes later, he was surprised to already find her waiting inside.

“I thought it’d be locked.”

“You sent me to a room you thought was locked?”

“Didn’t have much time studying the floor plan, did I?”

“I suppose not.” Jaz smiled innocently. “And it was locked.”

“Then how did you…”

She raised her hand with the hairpin still lodged between her index and middle finger. “Perks of living with Mel.”

“Do I really want to know?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

Jaz slipped from the small table she’d been sitting on and placed her hand on his chest. “On whether you came here for talking.”

Not wasting another word, Leon bent to kiss her. Their mouths met greedily, hungrily, his lips tasting of the champagne they’d been served at the table. Jaz sighed as his tongue slipped into her mouth, his hands moving from her waist to the exposed skin of her back. Their kiss deepening, Leon pushed her back against the table and she let him lift her upwards onto the tabletop again.

His tie was discarded as soon as it was loose enough, Leon’s shirt following soon after as Jaz unbuttoned it with flying fingers. Her fingers spanned the countless pictures inked into his skin for a moment, but she was soon distracted when Leon dipped his head to her throat, leaving a burning trail of kisses in his wake. She slung her arm around his neck, arching her back to meet him, both their breaths coming heavily.

When they locked lips again and Leon's fingers trailed from her spine up into her artfully arranged hair, Jaz was reluctant to have to pull away.

“Stop that,” she gasped, the sound turning into a barely subdued moan as Leon ran his finger along her temple and cheekbones, coming to rest on her lower lip.

“Why would I?”

“Because I can’t walk out of here looking like I just had a shag, can I?”

Leon hummed. “I like that look on you.”

Catching Leon’s hands still playing with her hair, she guided them to where the fabric of her dress parted at her thigh to allow more room for motion.

“I know other things your hands could do, though.”

With a mischievous smirk that made her core pull together, Leon slipped his hands beneath the cool satin and onto her burning skin. His hands were rough as they pushed the fabric upwards, spanning Jaz’s thighs with the exact amount of pressure that made her dip her head back in pleasure. She shuddered as Leon brought his mouth to her chest, tracing the outline of her breasts where the red satin of her dress began.

“I love this dress,” he murmured against her skin, making Jaz sigh, “but honestly, I’d prefer you out of it.”

Almost reluctantly, Jaz pulled away from him and hooked her fingers under the loops of his belt. “I thought you’d never get to the point.”

Leon laughed darkly, arms enveloping her as he kissed her again, more roughly than before. Jaz met his pace, blindly pulling his belt away and undoing his flies as he lifted her from the table and turned her around. She steadied herself against the wall with her hand, one foot set onto one of the boxes littering the floor. Leon was pressing against her from behind, the heat of him compensating for the chilly air hitting her skin as he pushed her dress further up and up.

“What’s that, drummer girl?” he murmured into her ear, his breath hot against her neck. “No underwear?”

She shot a teasing look over her shoulder even though her knees were close to buckling as Leon parted her legs with his hands and let them wander continuously higher. “Complaining, are we?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The grip on her shoulder tightened, and Jaz stifled a moan when he pushed inside of her. They had been doing this game for long enough to find their rhythm immediately, and it was all she could do not to cry out as Leon moved against her. The pace he set was quick, as much because of their shortage of time as of their mutual need, and Jaz did her best to match him. With every thrust she pushed herself against him, delighting in the friction she caused that way which made her head spin.

It wasn’t long before she felt the heat beginning to pool in her stomach, the familiar tingle beginning to grow. When she thought she couldn’t contain it any longer, Leon’s fingers dug into her skin, the ends of his hair brushing her collarbone as he buried his face against her neck, shuddering as he came. Jaz allowed herself to let go as well, fireworks exploding in front of her eyes as her high rolled over her. Clasping her hand in front of her mouth, she stifled the cry dropping from her lips.

Tension leaving her body, she let herself collapse onto the tabletop in front of her. After the long moment it took for her to find her bearings again, she propped herself onto her elbows, brushing one of the locks that had fallen from her updo after all from her face with shaky hands.

“You alright?”

Leon ran his hand down her spine but there was no fire behind the gesture anymore, only genuine concern at her prolonged silence. Laughing breathily, Jaz turned to him, brushing her skirt down as she did so.

“Never better.”

From beyond the door and down the hallway, the faint sound of clapping could be heard. Using the dusty mirror propped against the wall, Jaz quickly reapplied her lipstick and smoothed down her hair. When she was done, she studied Leon’s reflection behind her; his hair, which had been messy to begin with, was in even more of a state than before and there was a distinct red mark next to his mouth from her lipstick. Having tapped her face in the corresponding spot, he quickly wiped it off.

“It’s a good thing you always look like you just got out of bed anyway.”

Leon, in the process of buckling up his belt again, paused and raised one eyebrow at her. “I didn’t when I arrived here.”

Chuckling, Jaz stepped towards the door, purposefully brushing against Leon as she did so. She lingered there, laying one hand against his cheek and raising her chin as if to kiss him.

A look of surprise flickering over his face he leaned in, closing his eyes, but before their lips could touch, Jaz pulled away with a smirk.

“Five minutes,” she breathed, her words ghosting over his lips. “See you at the show.”

And with that, she slipped from the room, leaving Leon behind. Making sure that no one had seen her, she quickly smoothed down her dress and made her way back towards the venue.

When she reached their table, the opening show had just begun. Rich gave her a dark look as she took her seat and turned back to the stage. When his attention was elsewhere, Mel leaned in, whispering,

“Where have you fucking been?”

Jaz pursed her lips and shrugged. “Fucking somewhere else.”

“Say a word next time you choose to disappear into the nether,” Mel rolled her eyes. “Leon went to find you.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see him?”

The lie left her lips smoothly. “Not at all.”

“I bet he went to get something that makes this shit a little more fun,” Everett threw in from the other side of Mel. “He could have said something, at least. I would have joined him.”

Jaz bit the insides of her cheek. “No doubt about that.”

“Diversion can be found in the strangest of places, if you only look for them, my friend.”

Leon had appeared behind them, having come from the opposite entrance of the one Jaz had come through. His smile was level as he slipped into his seat but the way his lips twitched as his eyes grazed Jaz wasn’t lost on her.

Everett’s look seemed to say ‘I told you so’ but Jaz only sipped on her champagne, eyes pointedly trained at the stage. Trying not to smirk, she spun the hairpin Leon had pressed into her palm beneath the table between her fingers.

Award shows truly were her favourites.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As promised, I do deliver @drinkyoursoupbitch. Thank you @flareshin for being my favourite helpful artist friend.

#writers of tumblr #writblr #writing community #creative writing #original writing #kaze writes #wip: when stars ignite #wip: short stories #rockstarverse #soup fairy

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junosartsthetic · 1 year

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Warmth

This fic is my baby. I love her. I’m very proud of myself for this one. Also, my fics have been fucking up on dark-mode mobile so please let me know and I’ll try to fix it. It’s annoying as hell and I’m not 100% sure of the reason. This will be reblogged multiple times by me because Avdol deserves all the love in the world. Thank you.

Warning(s): fluff, alcohol mention, reader is called miss, I believe that’s all, just cuteness and pining

You’d never been to a city like New York City before. The massive buildings at every turn, towering over the bustling streets like parents watching their kids at a playground. People hurried every which way, gloved hands carrying more bags than you thought possible, and yet whisking themselves towards more shopping centers. Every aspect of the neon city glowed at night—red, yellow and green stop lights shimmered against the wet pavement. Strings of lights coiled around every pole, tree, and window, illuminating the snow as it fell and dissipated onto the concrete, soon to be stepped on by ever-moving pedestrians. Cars honked, intermingling with sleigh bells echoing as workers ushered shoppers into their stores, wearing Santa hats and jingling with every movement. There wasn’t a spot in the city where life didn’t reside—stray cats and pigeons scouring for food in the cold cityscape. Paws and claws clicked on the snowy ground. Even a few stray dogs nestled themselves into boxes and under dumpsters, seeking shelter for the night. It was, in fact, one of these dogs that brought you and your companion to New York City.

Even after a day of searching, you hadn’t spotted the small black and white animal anywhere. You supposed it was a big city, and he was a smart dog. In fact, to call him a mere ‘dog’ might be an insult to his character. He possessed something you didn’t think animals could have—a power you and your compatriot shared. A stand.

Upon hearing of this powerful canine, the Speedwagon foundation ushered you both off, handing you a small file with the little information they had on the mutt. There wasn’t much inside—just his breed, a possible stand, and a name. Iggy. In bold red lettering, they also had the audacity to put ‘DANGEROUS. WILL ATTACK IF PROVOKED. NOT FRIENDLY.’ You rolled your eyes, gloved hands shutting the file and sliding it back in your bag. You understood how important this stand-user was, and how valuable it would be if he became an ally, but also had your doubts, reasonably. This wasn’t a person—he couldn’t be bargained with. And given the fact that you were here—the foundation wasn’t planning on rolling out the red carpet for his arrival.

Your stand specialized in capturing and restraining—a small squid-like entity with long, ever-winding tentacles perched on your shoulder, nestling itself into your scarf. It wasn’t the most powerful, but you had yet to find a user that you couldn’t capture. The suctions and muscled arm-like appendages held on harder than a cowboy in a rodeo. Your stand, combined with Magician’s Red, were sure to get the job done one way or another.

The stand’s user crossed your mind, and you looked beside you to where he strode steadily along, his ever-present red overcoat flowing behind him just high enough to avoid getting wet. He walked with a refined determination, like a pool player who had hustled long enough to see and know everything. In a way, he knew what you would do before you did it. That’s probably why he was so good at fortune-telling.

You studied his face—two pale lines, mimicking your stand’s tentacles, curved down his face, crossing his strong cheekbones and ending at his muscled jaw. Your eyes wandered back up, staring into his eyes. Beautiful brown eyes, set on the world in front of him, pulled you in like the depths of space pulling in a lost astronaut. His hair, usually up in knots, rested down, curls and coils trailing around his shoulders and along the sides of his face. His gold-medallion necklace jingled with every step he took, matching the bracelets adorning his arms. He wore no gloves and no hat, and you sighed in jealousy. Having a fire-producing stand must’ve been nice in such cold weather. Even bundled up, you shivered at the nipping wind scratching at your sensitive face. You fell in step with him, scooching just a tad closer. You could feel the warm aura radiating around him—though couldn’t pinpoint if that was his stand, or simply your imagination. Either way, it was nice. Of course, you didn’t voice these thoughts, too afraid to speak to the man besides basic greetings and the facts of the case. It’s not that you didn’t like him—in fact, it was the opposite. You’d known about Avdol for a while, even before meeting him, and knew he had a handsome face and appealing personality, but to see him, and meet him? It’s like you were drowning in quicksand, struggling to find a grip on yourself. You were too scared to speak, afraid he’d dismiss you. You weren’t even sure what that meant. Dismiss? It’s not like he’d leave you to struggle on the streets of the city forever. Even if he didn’t like you, he still had a mission to complete.

Your heart clenched at those words. Didn’t like you. You hadn’t said more than a few words to the man—why would he dislike you? He had no reason to. Besides, you and he were paired by the foundation for more than just your stands. You had compatibility. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you walked next to him, teeth beginning to chatter.

Luckily, you were almost back to the hotel. You were hungry, tired, and cold. A day spent in New York City? Fun. A day spent in New York City checking every dumpster, alleyway, and backstreet in search of a dangerous and powerful dog who could attack at any moment? Not fun. In fact, you would’ve abandoned this mission by now if you hadn’t been placed with someone you would rather die than disappoint. Hah. That might be a bit dramatic. Maybe.

You brushed those rather dark thoughts aside, your only focus being the hotel doors that shined in front of you. You fell behind Avdol, whispering a thank you as he held the door open. He smiled, nodding. A blush burned your cheeks, and you whisked by him quickly. If you stared at his expression for too long you might think about kissing it.

Deciding to take the elevator after a particularly arduous day, you pressed the white ‘up’ button, watching it light up gold. You glanced at Avdol, seeing that same gold color reflected in the chandelier of the hotel lobby sparkling in his eyes. You smiled softly, hiding it in the folds of your scarf.

The silver doors opened, and you stepped into the spacious elevator, seeing yourself in the many mirrors lining the wood-accented walls. You always found it strange how they put mirrors in elevators, but didn’t mind in this instance.

You opened your mouth in an attempt to break the silence, but decided against it. What would you say that didn’t sound desperate? Nice weather we’re having? You scoffed, shaking your head as you stared at the climbing floor numbers.

“Is something wrong?” he spoke, deep voice startling you. You face him, seeing a look of concern cross his face.

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” you replied quickly, voice cracking from disuse. You stifled another self-deprecating scoff at your own stupid reply. Should you keep talking? “I just—”

The doors parted open, revealing the fancy gold carpet and speckled walls of your floor. Deciding against finishing your statement, you walked out, throwing your gloves in your bag and digging out the room key. You hoped you’d scrounge it out in time to walk in without facing Avdol again, but didn’t succeed. You supposed it didn’t matter too much—you had a shared room, regardless. Not that it wasn’t a large room, with two queen beds and an entire jacuzzi in the bathroom. The full-sized fridge was fully stocked with all the alcohol you could ever dream of, too. The foundation really spared no expense. Well, except getting separate rooms, that is.

“Let me,” he said, pulling the key from his pocket and sliding it into the lock. It lit up green, and he opened it, gesturing to allow you in first.

“Thank you,” you replied curtly, stepping inside as you set your bag down and took off your coat. The cold air consumed you instantly. You winced, sliding it back on. Did someone turn the heat off before you left? You let out a breath, seeing it materialize in the air. You looked to the wall, reading the thermostat. 30 degrees fahrenheit? That was below freezing! No wonder you continued to shiver. The temperature was no different than outside! You shot a glance at Avdol, who too noticed the freezing atmosphere.

As he was closer, he shut the door behind him, turning to press a finger on the heat button. Nothing happened. “Seems it’s out-of-order,” he said. “I noticed the lobby was rather cold, as well. It might be impacting the entire building.”

You huffed. Great. Not how you wanted your night to end. You walked inside further, slipping your boots off and sitting in the bed, legs swinging off. You picked up the white hotel phone, dialing the lobby. It rang. Someone picked up. “Hi, we are in room—uh-uh. Yeah, it’s freezing—okay. When are they—alright. No, I don’t think we’ll need any extra blankets—okay. Alright. Buh-bye.”

You set the phone back on the receiver, hands rubbing your arms in a useless attempt to warm up. “The heat’s out in the entire building,” you said, letting out another sigh. You were doing that a lot today, unfortunately. “They called in a repair, but they won’t get here till tomorrow.”

He hummed. “That won’t be good for business,” he quipped as he searched through the small kitchen area. Finding what he needed, he pulled two cups from the cabinets, pouring a brown powder into both. “Care for hot cocoa?”

“Oh, sure. I haven’t had that in a while,” you mused, staring at his broad shoulders as he worked. “Not since I was a kid, I think. My mom used to make it for me after I played in the snow for hours. Used to come in nearly frostbitten. I don’t know how she did it, but even with the cheapest hot chocolate mix out there, she somehow made it taste delicious—” you paused your story, realizing you’d gone off on a bit of a ramble. “Sorry. I got a little lost talking there.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, voice gentle and deep, like an endless ocean on a peaceful day. You resisted the urge to drown in it. “Your story was nice. You never talk much, so I enjoyed listening.”

“Well, thank you. We only met like a week ago, so I’ve tried not to scare you away with my stupid rambling,” you admitted, wrapping your scarf around yourself tighter. Maybe if you wrapped it tight enough you could escape this situation you put yourself in.

“It takes more than that to leave me frightened,” Avdol replied, stirring the drinks. You heard the metal spoon tap gently against the mugs. You smiled. You missed that sound. All those childhood snow-days.

One thing your mother didn’t add to your hot chocolate, however, was the assortment of alcohol Avdol turned his attention to, hands gently caressing and turning each bottle to find a specific type. Finally, he grasped a dark-stained glass bottle, liquid sloshing inside. You saw his stand materialize beside him, pulling the lid off. You laughed silently. No time for bottle openers, you supposed.

“Do you drink?” he asked, pouring the liquid inside one mug, the glass clinking against the cup.

“Sometimes,” you said. “When I feel like it, I guess. But go ahead. I’m intrigued. This is definitely not like my mother used to make.”

He laughed—a low chuckle that brought fire to your cheeks. He had a handsome laugh, as odd as it sounded. And you were the reason for it. You made him laugh. You smiled to yourself.

He turned around, handing you a mug of the steaming beverage. “Careful. It’s hot. Compliments of Magician’s Red.”

“Thank you,” you said, blowing on it gently. You could feel the heat radiated through your fingers and up your arms. It was a nice juxtaposition to the freezing room. You took a sip. “What kind of drink did you mix in?” you asked, tasting a milkiness. It contrasted surprisingly well with the rich chocolate flavor, and the bitter aftertaste added to the warmth hugging your body.

“Irish cream,” he replied. “A friend of mine showed me. He usually drinks enough for the both of us, but he’s got better things to do than play dog-catcher.”

“Well your friend knows some things,” you said, taking another long sip. “Tell him thanks for me.”

“Hah. I don’t think Mr. Joestar needs any more ego. He might tumble over with a head that big.”

You snorted, drink invading your nose as you did so. You sniffed in an attempt to rid the burning liquid. “He sounds like a fun time.”

“He’s almost seventy, yet lives life like he’s twenty. But he’s a good man,” Avdol said, drinking his own spiked hot chocolate between sentences. You two sat like that for a while, he on his own bed and you on yours, having little conversations about nothing in particular. It felt like a breath of fresh air. Your shoulders relaxed, and while it may have been the alcohol, you quickly loosened up your anxious demeanor.

“Ya know,” you said, hands resting on your chin as you sat cross-legged on your bed. “When I first saw you, I felt like Bambi learning how to walk. I was petrified of saying anything because you’re just so—breathtaking. Everything you do is determined and graceful and I never thought I’d be sitting here drinking hot cocoa talking about my childhood with you.”

“You flatter me, miss (Y/N). I am just a man, like anyone else. I have my limits. And my weaknesses—this dog actually seems to be one of them,” he mused, looking over his mug to shoot you a cheeky smirk. You stared back, cheeks burning. You set your cup on the nightstand. You decided you’d had enough to drink for one night.

“I’m sure we’ll find him eventually,” you said, sliding off the bed as you finally took your coat off, leaving you in a long-sleeved shirt and baggy pants. It was still freezing, but you felt. . . warmer after the conversation. “I’m gonna get ready for bed if I don’t freeze to death first.”

He nodded, standing up and grabbing your cup. He set both in the sink, beginning to wash them. “Take your time. And don’t freeze to death.”

You laughed. “No promises.”

It didn’t take long to change into your nightgown, complete your nighttime routine, and sit yourself back on your bed in preparation to sleep that night. Avdol followed suit, donning a white t-shirt and black sweatpants. It was a large change from his normal attire, but you enjoyed seeing a more casual side of him. He didn’t look like a stand-user fortune-teller dog-catcher. It allowed you to imagine him as a friend instead of a coworker. And you enjoyed that.

What you didn’t enjoy, however, was the temperature dropping by the minute, leaving you shivering as you tried uselessly to snuggle deeper into the blankets. Was it even legal to leave the heat broken on a night this cold? Regardless, you were miserable.

Finally, after a half-hour of tossing and turning, you got up, prepared to put your coat back on if it meant keeping warm throughout the night.

“Are you alright?” spoke Avdol from his bed, sitting up to look at you in the darkened room. He illuminated a small flame beside him, casting light onto your miserable face.

“I’m too cold to sleep,” you confessed, shivering. You resisted the urge to step closer to the warm fire lit beside him. “It’s impossible in a room this cold. What I wouldn’t give to have a fire-based stand right about now. You’re lucky,” you joked. He stared at you, silent, before finally voicing his thoughts.

“I don’t mean to be crude when I offer this, but would you like to share a bed? It’s possible you might actually get frostbitten in these temperatures,” he explained. He scooted himself over, gesturing to his former sleeping spot. “I promise I’m a gentleman,” he mused.

“Are you sure?” you asked, taking a few steps away from the coat rack and towards his bed. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“There’s plenty of room. I insist,” he replied. You nodded wordlessly, tentatively sitting on the bed and sliding your legs under the covers. The warmth compared to your bed was like night and day, and you quickly sank yourself almost completely under, letting out a sigh of relief as you turned to face your frozen wasteland.

You sensed a hand come to rest on your shoulder, heat radiating softly from the large palm. You glanced behind you, noting the hand of Magician’s Red. Avdol looked at you, as if asking for permission to continue. You nodded. “Thank you, Avdol. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you and your stand ability. Freeze, I guess,” you joked.

“It’s no trouble. If you need anything else, please, just let me know. I don’t mind. I’ve got enough heat for two.” You heard the ruffle of sheets, and assumed he’d rolled to face the window, his back towards yours. It was like the heat dissipated, and your body shivered impulsively. You were unsure if you imagined it or not, but it’s like a cold front settled over your body. You bit your tongue. Every fiber of your being wanted to pose a question that you might never recover from. But a small part held back. You couldn’t ask such a thing. He was a coworker. A new friend. Friends don’t ask that to friends.

“Avdol,” you spoke up. “Is there any way you could. . . I’m still sort of shivering. And I don’t want to bother you, or make you uncomfortable, but—”

Sheets ruffled again. A hand—not of a stand—came to rest over your waist. Silently, he pulled you against his chest, his chin resting just behind the top of your head. His legs entangled with yours. Lips brushed against your ear as he leaned down. “Is this okay?” he whispered, breath tickling your neck.

Any words drained from your mind. Instead, you placed your hand atop of his, still wrapped around your torso. You squeezed his much larger hand, rubbing your thumb over it softly. You didn’t have to speak—he understood.

‘Stay.’

128 notes · View notes

artzychic27 · 1 year

Note

More Actor AU commentary?

*Juleka, Luka, Myléne, and Alix are having their hair re-dyed*

Juleka: The stylists have a closet exclusively for our hair dye. I’ve never felt so honored.

Luka: *Squeals* We each got our own shelves!

Alix: Yeah, it’s great, but then the fumes really start to kick in, ya’know?

Myléne: I told you guys to go with the eco-friendly stuff, now I’m sitting here not breathing in toxic fumes.

—

Mireille: Come here, we’re gonna show you the Akuma closet.

*Marinette the door to a massive walk-in closet of Akuma costumes*

Marinette: This is where most of the magic actually happens. The artists like to have their space and this is the quietest room to work on designs. Hey, CeCe.

CeCe: *Drawing under a table* Silence!

Mireille: Yes, ma’am. Anyway, the costumes here are all stored here when they’re no longer in use until later episodes when an Akuma returns, or for the design team to come in and make alterations. Like… Oh! Here’s Reverser’s original suit. *Pulls out a black and white Two-Face inspired suit*

Marinette: See, it’s good, but it can always be better. Now, the creators are letting Marc wear it to the red carpet event.

—

Kim: *Doing his makeup* See, unlike most of my co-stars, I do my own makeup for each scene. I’m cool like that.

Marc: *Doing a Smokey eye* We’re cool like that.

—

Reshma: Naturally, we all hate Marc and Kim because they don’t spend three hours in makeup every morning.

Denise: I’d kill for those fine-ass eyes.

—

Nino: To properly look like your typical high school students, we stay up for hours each night to create eye bags instead of using makeup

Marinette: You think students wake up without eye bags? Fuck y’all.

—

Nathaniel: It took all sorts of candy and video games to keep the kids of the original show preoccupied so they don’t tackle me during takes.

Alya: *Laughing* We don’t know why, but kids just love Nath! Ella and Etta are obsessed with him.

Nino: Chris can’t stay off of him. Same for Manon. Whenever they see Nath, they’re clinging to his legs.

Marc: Kiran absolutely ADORES Nath! Sometimes Nath let’s him draw on his arm.

Nathaniel: You won’t believe how thrilled they were when they heard they’d be getting to interact with me more. They’re especially jealous of Manon since she got to do a scene with me first.

—

Aurore: *Opens the door to her dressing room to reveal a wall of parasols* As you can see, I take my character’s love of parasols very serious. You have your holiday-themed parasols, parasols with pointed tip when I need to strike a bitch, and a special one I don’t open. I just walk around with it like a fancy cane.

—

Chloé: Zoé and I are just thrilled to be best friends on the show! Looking at the original script, I’m just like, “God, this dialogue sucks.”

Zoé: Don’t get us wrong, there’s gonna be some ups and downs in my first scene, but we bond over a mutual matred of our mother.

Chloé: Such a wonderful bond!

—

Kim: Behold! The Wig Room! *Opens the door to a room full of wigs* This is where we keep the wigs for Akumas and heroes! Oh! There’s Ikati Black’s! You won’t believe how long it takes the stylists to braid Max’s hair back.

Max: That’s their workout. Because of me, they have amazing biceps.

—

Alya: When filming Lady WiFi, there were like a shit-ton of green screens just everywhere. I’m fact, the characters were forbidden from wearing green during the takes where we had the screens up!

Max: My signature color! Gone!

Tomassian: Uh, how do you I felt? They had to edit in the colors after the shots. I felt so dirty!

—

Sabrina: While everyone else gets some kick ass costume… Mine is literally a green bodysuit. It’s like the one they used for Hagakure in My Hero Academia. And when I’m visible, I look like fucking Silver Surfer! *laughs*

—

Corsette: *Recording on their phone* Observe the blonde gremlins in their natural environment. *Points their phone towards the blonde in the dance studio*

Austin A: And… *Swaying his hips* Sashay. Sashay. *Notices the others aren’t following him* I said SASHAY!

Adrien: What is this even for?

Austin A: Because I felt like forming a blonde dance crew.

Chloé: Dude! Lead with that!

Rose: And you’re working those hips wrong! Watch and learn, Armbruster!

—

Nino/Lila: *Getting their makeup done* Scar Twins, bitches!

—

Ivan: Fun fact, Stoneheart was actually me in a green body suit and everything I threw was made of Styrofoam. Super easy to lift.

Myléne: It was a pretty complicated scene when Stoneheart kidnapped Chloé and I. There were different wires, a mechanical arm, all that jazz.

Chloé: But the thing that wasn’t fake was me getting thrown! It was fucking awesome!

Ivan: Uh! Let’s not forget to add that there was an abundance of airbags below you.

Chloé: Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I had so much fun, I actually went skydiving after the shoot.

—

Denise: So, I’m the cast’s unquestioned fitness guru, meaning I help to keep ‘em in shape. Each character has certain muscles the fandom likes to obsess over. Take Nath’s legs for example.

Nathaniel: *Incoherrent yelling as he crushes a watermelon between his thighs* DIE, YOU WATERMELON! *The watermelon gets crushed* YEAH! GIMME A PUMPKIN NEXT!

Denise: Fans are also pretty obsessed with Marinette’s biceps.

Marinette: *Deadlifting a couch* No one! Stop me!

Denise: And Ismael and Nino like to work out to build muscle and look a bit more masculine.

Nino: *Spotting Ismael* Who’s the manliest man?!

Ismael: I am!

Nino: Who’s gonna punch the transphobes?!

Ismael: I AM!

Denise: We have fun. But remember, it’s important to feel comfortable in your own body.

—

Cosette: I’m sure you can tell that Jean’s excited for the upcoming musical numbers.

Jean: *Running around the studio screaming*

Cosette: *Chuckles* I can tell ya, he’s gonna sleep well tonight… Did I mention I’m getting a girlfriend?

—

Lacey: I’m pretty stoked I’m gonna have a big role in Riposte. In the original show, you see me as one of the students trying out for the team, but of course… No lines.

Nathaniel: Well, I’m nervous as hell. I’ve only been practicing fencing for a short time, but I’m still nowhere good.

Kagami: This is why we practice on weekends, Nath. And you’re getting better, so stop putting yourself down.

Nathaniel: Never!

—

XY: *Spooning with Luka and Adrien* We’re rehearsing.

Rose: But this scene isn’t for like another… Thirty episodes-

Adrien: Hush, demon! This is a private rehearsal! *Kisses XY’s neck while Luka nuzzles against his back*

—

Simon: *Having his makeup done while he sits in Denise’s lap* Here’s a fun little tidbit for you guys. A lot of my Gaeilge is unscripted. Yeah, when I have my little angry moments, I can’t help but curse in my native tongue.

Denise: The only thing I understand is ‘shite.’

Simon: And I don’t understand a lick of Spanish. We’re perfect for each other!

—

Reshma: The design team will be incorporating my character’s interest in magical girl anime and anime in general into my clothing, so Sailor Moon jewelry, My Hero Academia bags, Princess TuTu hair accessories, and my true favorite, a Revolutionary Girl Utena jacket!

Ismael: *While Reshma happy flaps* While she’s excited about that, I’m excited about getting some new cardigans. I mean, who doesn’t love a cardigan?

—

Cosette: *Live streaming Nino and Myléne meditating* They’ve been like this for two hours now. Tell me, guys. Should I call for help?

Nino: … *Snores*

Cosette: Oh, thank God!

—

Marc: I’ve gotta say, it’s nice not having to pretend to be shorter than I actually am. It was messing up my back, I… I don’t know why they didn’t just give other characters platform shoes.

Denise: But on a lighter note, Marc keeps bumping into a bunch of stuff! *Cackles* It’s hilarious!

Marc: I’m so used to slouching! *Storms out of the room and bumps into the doorframe* Damnit! Stupid low doorframe! Who needs a door that small?!

Denise: If you’re wondering, Marc and I are both 206.5 centimeters and the doorways here are like 200 centimeters.

—

Ismael: And we’re back to another screening of “Tall People Problems!”

Cosette: Watch Reshma struggle to sit in that chair. *Points her phone toward Reshma with her legs at an awkward position while she’s sitting*

Reshma: … Ugh! *Tucks in her legs* … Forget it. *Sits on the floor*

Ismael: Tragic, isn’t it? Now let’s see how Denise is faring.

Cosette: *Points phone over to Denise, right as they bump into an exit sign*

Denise: ¡Mierda!

Cosette: *Snickers* And now, our favorite subject. Marc Anciel. A young man who just won’t admit he’s taller than a standard doorframe. *Points phone to Marc*

Marc: *Walking off set and comes across the door* … Not this time. *Ducks under the doorframe* HA! I did it- OW! Why is there another door?!

48 notes · View notes

solitaryandwandering · 11 months

Text

Top Nine Favorite TV Series

I was tagged by the incomparable @wen-kexing-apologist to list nine of my favorite shows, thank youu!! <3 This is a... daunting task. I'll do my best.

They've already listed/mentioned a number of shows in their own post I would include in mine (Avatar: The Last Airbender; I Told Sunset About You; 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us) so I will not be including those, to my absolute despair!! I'm only including stuff I've 100% completed, so that automatically excludes stuff like Orphan Black, Penny Dreadful, Derry Girls, Barry, or Russian Doll.

Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!

[ID: TV poster. Background is busy with sketches of an urban sprawl, with buildings and flying ships clashing with natural elements. Three teenage girls flail with maniacal glee in the foreground. On the right is the tallest of them all, glasses perched on her head and wearing an astronaut's suit with a jet pack. On the left, a girl in an orange jumpsuit is riding a flying carpet. In the center is a short girl with a round head, clutching animation paper in her hand. She is being jettisoned by a propeller around her waist.]

It took me forever to discern what was happening in that poster, my god.

Anyway, this show!!! Exactly what I needed at the time I watched it. So full of joy and creativity with no cynicism or guile to be seen. Pure, unfettered fun but still delivered moving characters and story. It's literally about three weird teenage girls who decide to start an animation club at their high school. Doesn't sound like much but is absolutely PASSIONATE in every sense of the word, in every way you could possibly apply it practically in its creation. It's so obvious everyone had fun making this little show. This is the kind of art that makes you hug yourself with tears of happiness. Or is that just something I do?

Give me more stories about weird girls being fucking bizarre!!! I need it!!!

Tldr; Hilarious, full of heart, reminded me why I love art, why I love stories, and what I love about life. An absolute 10/10 for me.

Batman: The Animated Series

[ID: TV poster. Batman is silhouetted against a black background, drawing his cape up around his body and staring at the viewer through narrow white slits in his bat-like mask. Batman's head is backlit by a bright red sun.]

Oh, you think I'm just adding this for pure nostalgia? WRONG. B:TAS absolutely stands up to scrutiny even without nostalgia glasses. I rewatched this relatively recently and was completely blown away by the complexity in its storytelling and characterization. Yes, I was obsessed with this show (and the rest of the DCAU) as a kid, but as an adult I can find very few flaws. B:TAS may represent one of my first forays into noir, which is potentially my favorite genre across all art-forms. It certainly represents one of the first times I fell in love with a superhero story.

Tldr; Kevin Conroy IS the best Batman. 10/10

Breaking Bad

[ID: Photo of four major characters from Breaking Bad. From left to right: Gus Fring, a Chilean man wearing round spectacles and a collared shirt with tie; Jesse Pinkman, a white man in his mid-twenties wearing a black T-shirt; Walter White, a bald white man with a full mustache and extended goatee, wearing large glasses; Mike Ehrmantraut, a bald white man with a bulbous nose. All four look into the camera with expressions of tired determination.]

Ah yes, the show that seems to make it to every "favorite shows" list made by everyone else in the universe. I really do love it though; it has incredible, complex, morally-gray characters, a gripping plot and story, phenomenal thematic development, GORGEOUS cinematography and production design, and bonkers acting. It really deserves all its accolades and praise. Add to that a disabled character played by a disabled actor and you've got me singing your praises all the way to the grave!

Tdlr; Virulent toxic masculinity LOSES and we all cheer! It leaves lasting trauma and devastation in its wake and we all scream in agonized recognition! 10/10 fried chickens

Over the Garden Wall

[ID: TV poster. Two young boys are wandering in a wooded area, approaching a darkened alcove of trees and vines. The taller of the two is wearing a red conical hat and blue cape with golden buttons. He looks into the dark woods with worry. A shorter boy scampers excitedly ahead, balancing an upside-down silver teakettle atop his head and hoisting a large green frog under his arm. A bluebird flies at their side.]

My best friend and I watch this show together every year. I am such a sucker for good sibling stories and this one takes the cake. The way Wirt and Greg love each other is heartbreakingly realistic, and to set the growth of their relationship against a confusing and bizarre backdrop is so satisfying. And what a backdrop! I loved fairytales as a kid and this show scratches that itch. Besides the great little vignettes what brings me back to this story again and again is the attention to nuanced relationship development between ALL characters. Wirt's character growth hinges on learning how not to inflict loneliness on himself, to instead accept love and care from others, even those he considers too good for him. Me likey! Great music and one of the best-designed monsters/villains I've seen in any children's animated show, and you've won me over.

Tldr; Goofy kids, goofy problems. Potatoes and molasses. 10/10, would be spooked again

Bad Buddy

[ID: TV poster. Two young college-aged men are standing close together in a yellow-lit room in front of a window. The man on the left stands with his arms wrapped around the waist of the other man, looking fondly into his eyes. The man on the right looks worried, one finger over his lips as he presses his hand against the other man's mouth.]

I was hesitant to start watching BL. Nothing about the genre appealed to me beyond the romance and happy endings. But then KinnPorsche lured me in with promises of attempts not to shy away from queerness. As I was in the midst of watching that I decided to check out this show as it had been trending on Tumblr with one person I follow rabidly enthused about it. Looked super fun (and was a Shakespeare adaptation!) and free on YouTube, so I took a peek... and the rest is history. I credit this show for keeping me around. I was SHOCKED at how queer-positive and forward-thinking it was and excited to learn of P'Aof's existence. BL was being created by IRL gay people?! And they're conscious of what they're making?! Consider me seated! This show became the first BL I ever completed and I am so glad it did. This fandom is the first where I've felt relatively safe to express myself and has opened me up to so many other like-minded people, willing to watch fun stuff but also critique it in the same breath. I'm so glad a show as good (if imperfect) as this one brought me here.

Tldr; Excellent Shakespeare adaptations are my catnip. Product placements didn't scare me away so you KNOW it's charming. An ending so perfect it made me tear up. Fandom so lovely it made me stay. 9/10 warm and fuzzies

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

[ID: TV poster. Two characters from the show face off against each other. On the left is a cat-like humanoid, Catra, with thick brown hair and different colored eyes: blue and yellow. Her right arm is raised in a defensive stance against the girl on the right, Adora, blonde with a large golden headdress. Her golden gauntlet clashes with Catra's arm, creating a bright burst of light.]

I just recently watched Nimona (WONDERFUL) so felt like I should shout out this show. In making this list I've further realized just how much I attach to animated shows I needed to see as a kid. She-Ra kinda takes the cake in that aspect. Multi-dimensionally queer with badass characters defying gender and relational conventions?! Fun, cheesy action with real stakes?! Anti-colonialist messaging?! Hell yeah. But most of all, this show has one of my favorite fictional characters of all time in Catra. ND Stevenson seems to have a knack for writing characters my inner child relates way too much to. Abused, neglected, shunned, bulled, traumatized kid who is visibly and invisibly different to those around her. Lights up as soon as anyone seems to respect her talents and see her potential, only to be manipulated. To crash and burn and grapple with self-hatred as a consequence. THEN she finds love in people who see her for who she is, know what she's done, and give her a chance to do better! Her character arc is so important to me. Not only that, but the ending kiss/confession between her and Adora is INCREDIBLE both as a narrative culmination and as a production win. Talk about a hard-fought queer kiss.

Tldr; Important and powerful. Good queer fun. TERRIBLE theme song. 9/10

Black Sails

[ID: TV poster. Tagline above the title reads "WAR AGAINST THE WORLD". A bald white man with soot and blood streaked across his face stands in the foreground. He is wearing an outfit typical of a pirate, holding a cutlass in his right hand. He is ankle-deep in water. He looks over his shoulder; a fleet of ships burn in the background. A large, tattered Union Jack waves behind the man's head. He is Captain Flint.]

Whenever someone asks me what my favorite show is, this is the one that pops into mind. It has EVERYTHING. Complicated, at-times intensely unlikable protagonists, queerness out the ears, great costuming, pathos, meta-upon-meta commentary on itself, the source material Treasure Island, the modern and historical world it's set in and the concept of fiction itself, EVERYTHING. You want strong themes? This show has THEMES. It's hard to find a show about rebellion or anarchy that ACTUALLY feels revolutionary. I think this show is it. This came out around the same time Game of Thrones was big so caved to some pressure in the first season to make itself appeal to a similar audience (thanks Michael Bay) but wow did they make that season pay off in a big way in retrospect. It only gets better, more assured in itself as it goes on.

Tldr; A story about stories. Straight-baited in season one, off-the-rails queer in seasons two to four. Madi deserved better. Anne Bonny: childhood hero to queer crank on TV! Me: in love. 9/10

Gravity Falls

[ID: TV poster. Three people set forth on an expedition through the dark woods. Leading the pack is Dipper, a young boy wearing a white and blue cap with a blue pine tree on the front. He is reading an old hardback tome with a gold hand on the front with the number "3" on the palm. Behind him is his twin sister, Mabel. She is grinning at the viewer, showing off her braces and harpoon gun. Her sweatshirt bright pink with a multi-colored shooting star on its front. Bringing up the rear is their Grunkle Stan, a grumpy old man wearing a red fez with a golden fish eating a smaller fish. He holds aloft a gas lantern. Behind them all is the Mystery Shack, with a triangular window lit by a yellow glow and a weather vane in the shape of a question mark. In the lower left-hand corner is a bearded gnome looking at the viewer, holding a finger in front of his open mouth.]

Oh, you think I'm just including for nostalgia reasons? CORRECT. But I do think this show is great, regardless. I think it's easy to tell at this point that I really enjoy speculative fiction. This show fires on all cylinders in that respect, hitting up the supernatural, science fiction, fantasy, horror, alternate history, and adding a splash of the gothic just for me. Add in there great familial and sibling dynamics, fun animation and a GREAT villain... that's my jam! This is the show that my best friend and I watched together and bonded over as freshmen in college. They got Mabel's sweater and I got Dipper's cap; this piece of personal history makes the show more special to me.

Tldr; Send kids to the woods and let them figure it out. Makes for some great television. Great friendships, too. 9/10 lumberjacks

Fleabag

[ID: TV poster. A white woman with short, curly brown hair and a large nose poses in a pastiche of a Christian saint. The poster itself is stylized like a Renaissance-era painting or religious effigy. A halo encircles her head as she stares off in the distance. In her hand, the woman holds a guinea pig emanating a soft glow.]

A masterclass in creating a miniseries which feels expansive and fully-contained. Might be the culmination of many things I've touched on in this list. Weird, off-putting protagonists/women, darker storylines with plenty of comedic heft, themes of grief, self-hatred, loneliness and hope, complicated sibling/familial relationships, and mental illness. Who knew? (Me.) Above all else, I love stories about love. This show manages to complicate the conversation about love - self-love, love as obligation, love as devotion, love as obsession, love as healing - in eternally satisfying ways.

Tldr; It'll pass. 9/10

#it's me #tag game #favorite shows #did not expect so many cartoons lol

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frenchroyalseb · 1 year

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Ho, Ho, Ho (Merry Christmas) || Sebtrick

Sebastian hummed to himself as he stepped out of the limo that had been arranged for his transport to the party, which was no small event. Organised by one of London’s elite, the party was his annual charity event, encouraging the richest and most upper class members of society to drop some major money every year. Though, each year, the way in which people could donate changed and you never quite knew what it was until you got there. Truthfully, Sebastian and his family had been invited for several years, but he’d always declined in one way or another but this year was a little different as the organiser of the event had donated - rather favourably - to the program he and Patrick were working on. Which meant there was an obligation to attend, to donate in favour. It was silly really, the fact that he and Patrick raised money when they both knew their families could fund it in an instant. But everything was done for press and publicity, which meant people loved to have their name attached to high profile programs. It also meant he knew he’d likely run in to Patrick at some point tonight, even if there would be hundreds at the party.

The limo behind him moved along as he walked the red carpet towards the building, smiling and playing the perfect Prince as he posed for selfies and photos. The building was adorned with lights and ostentatious decorations, that likely cost tens - if not hundreds - of thousands of dollars. He himself was wearing slim fitting black trousers and a simple black shirt, but over the top of it he wore a plush burgundy suit jacket and, on his feet, shoes with a hint of gold to show off the holiday cheer. After finally making it down the red carpet and through the doors, he was greet by a woman, guiding him to reach into a box and select a candy cane.

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, pulling out a green and white striped candy cane. She winked at him and instructed him to scan a QR code, opening up a link on his phone. “Those who pick the green and white candy canes, can bid on those that pick the red and white,” she explained, passing him a light up green bauble, “you’ll be able to tell, because they’re all given a red bauble with a number on it that they must keep visible, just as you need to keep your blank green one visible. You can bid for the number you want, and after the auction ends, you can spend the rest of the party with them. You can bid on as many of those with numbers as you like. However, our guests safety is paramount, and this does not mean anything is to be expected of anybody purchased.” She had clearly said this multiple times, but he could understand why... he was sure that, given this was a charity event, they wouldn’t want it misconstrued in any way. “Of course, all money raised goes towards the host’s choice of charity for this year, and there is no swapping of baubles once you enter, as the auction is live. Do you have any questions, your highness?” Ah, so she did know who he was. He supposed she probably knew all the guests attending. “Uh, no, thank you.” He hooked the bauble through the top pocket of his jacket, so it would be visible, before walking behind the curtain which revealed the party, already in full swing, full of people with either red numbered or blank green baubles.

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iladkaren · 2 years

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SOMEDAY: Chapter III

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary:

“If you think that marrying the sole heir of the Kim enterprise will get you anywhere, think again.”

Chapter I

Chapter II

“There’s a family dinner party this weekend that we need to attend.” Namjoon announced as he walked into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in his casual slacks. He was wearing a blue shirt tucked neatly into them with no tie and a black blazer over it all. His hair was still wet from its shower. He looked like a modern man. “It’s an annual thing in the clan. Think of it as a reunion.” He added.

He sat down on one of the barstools at the island, placing his arms on the granite surface in front of him and leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands.

“Oh.” I replied, trying to conceal how shocked I was by this news. “Where is it held?” I asked curiously after a moment.

“At the Kim Estate.” He answered. “The dinner starts around 8 and lasts until 12 midnight.”

I took another bite of my cereal as I thought about it. That didn't sound too bad at all. If I could get through it without any incidents then maybe I would have fun. If I could get through the night of acting like we’re totally in love with each other then there was no problem at all.

“I know it’s a lot. This is your first time attending a dinner with the whole family, right?” He said as if reading my mind. Of course he could. Namjoon could always read minds.

“Well, if you don’t count the reception dinner at our wedding, then yes, this will be my first dinner with the whole family.” I responded, smiling softly.

Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, but we both agreed to pretend to have feelings for each other so I think you have nothing to worry about.”

I nodded slowly, feeling a bit relieved. It’ll go fine. At least that's what I told myself. But, deep inside I had to admit, I wasn’t exactly sure how it would turn out. I mean, who knows how long these dinners last? They could last all night. And then there’d still be more events tomorrow and the next day and the next day and every day after that…

Arranged marriage really wasn’t my idea of fun.

As soon as I stepped foot in the Kim estate, I realized just how big it truly was. The mansion was almost a quarter the size of ours. It was massive. A full three story house surrounded by manicured gardens and a large circular driveway. There were two tall columns leading up to a grand double door and a small fountain standing proudly in the middle of the driveway. The gate surrounding the main lawn was open, revealing the long gravel drive stretching all the way to the doors.

“Wow…” I whispered under my breath as I watched a few servants walking around.

“Welcome home!” Jin greeted with a huge smile as soon as he spotted us.

“Hey, Jinnie.” Namjoon greeted back, patting Jin on the shoulder as we passed.

Kim Seokjin. Namjoon’s first cousin and also one of the oldest cousins in the family.

Seokjin finally looked at me. He smiled politely before gesturing for us to follow him inside the house. He opened the heavy double doors, allowing us entry.

The ballroom was enormous and the light poured in through the large glass windows that covered the walls all the way up to the ceiling, illuminating everything in it with gold.

Everyone looked so pretty. Even with the bright lights shining directly overhead.

The entire floor was a large white marble tile and the whole area was covered with elegant Persian carpets. Large vases filled with red roses and white orchids stood along the wall next to a set of glass doors leading outside to the garden.

I look at Namjoon, wondering what the hell we were doing here again. Why did it sound like he didn’t want to come? It sounded like such a hassle when he said it. But now, watching how nice the place was, looking around at all the beautiful things, made me wonder if there wasn't some kind of ulterior motive.

“You ready?” Namjoon suddenly asked as he took hold of my hand.

“What? No… I mean, yeah. Sure. Let’s go.” I mumbled as I turned away from the view outside the window, focusing on Namjoon instead.

Namjoon laughed quietly at my reply and squeezed my hand lightly before letting go.

It felt like everyone was staring. Like they were expecting something different from us. Something they couldn't quite put their finger on. Maybe it was because I wasn’t part of the clan or we were a little late. Either way, everyone seemed to be watching us, waiting for some sort of reaction. I wanted to pull my hand out of Namjoon’s grip, to hide behind him, but I didn't dare let go.

Instead, I decided to walk beside him, keeping my head low and avoiding eye contact with anyone. The only one that mattered right now was us.

“Namjoon! My son! You’re finally here!” Namjoon’s father said enthusiastically as he came towards us.

He was wearing a grey business suit with a navy blue tie and had silver glasses perched perfectly on his nose. The sight made him seem slightly intimidating but I tried to ignore those thoughts as I bowed low and shook his hand.

“And, (y/n), good to see my daughter-in-law!” His father greeted, shaking my hand before turning to his wife, “My dear! They are here.” He commented cheerily.

His wife, whose name I already forgot, smiled warmly at me and then gave her husband a pointed stare, telling him to be quiet. After a short chuckle, she turned her attention back to me. “How are you, dear? How are you settling in at the new manor?” She cooed.

“Oh well, I’m managing just fine. Everything is perfect.” I replied politely, glancing sideways at Namjoon who had yet to break character completely.

He gave me a subtle nod of approval at my answer. It seemed to appease his mother. I guess I was getting better at this pretending thing.

“That’s wonderful to hear. We must go greet the rest of our guests. We wouldn’t want to make any of them wait.” With that being said she turned on her heel and walked gracefully through the room.

“Well, you have a good rest of the night. Buffet is open till midnight. I must go, and greet the others.” Mr. Kim said as he walked past us.

“Okay, you too, father.” Namjoon replied, smiling at him, which he returned. Then, with another nod of his head and a wave of his hand he headed off towards the other side of the ballroom where a large group of people stood talking and laughing together.

Namjoon faced me once again.

“You okay?” He asked me with concern written all over his face.

I smiled and nodded.

“You sure? You don't seem to be too happy to be here.” He continued, putting his arm around my waist.

“Yes, it's just a lot to take in.” I lied quickly.

“I know.” Namjoon replied. “But you'll get used to it. Trust me.”

“Maybe you're right.” I said, smiling shyly at him. “Let's go eat dinner.”

“Sure. And please, do not get drunk again.” Namjoon added while rolling his eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” I said, frowning and shaking my head at him. “I'm an adult. I can handle it.”

“Sure you can, sweetheart.” Namjoon said before leading me into the large dining room beyond the open doorway we just went through.

The buffet was amazing. There was salmon, steak, chicken, vegetables, bread rolls and even a salad. I could hardly believe that there wasn’t going to be anything left at the end of the night. And then I looked around and saw how much food there was.

All the women dressed very nicely, looking stunning and beautiful, and the men, as well. The men all sported formal suits whereas the women looked casual enough for an evening party. The women all wore dresses and makeup, but none of it seemed to affect their beauty at all. Their makeup, hair, clothes and accessories were all immaculate. The women all spoke and laughed happily among themselves, looking as though they knew everyone there. Some even had children present or pets with them.

We finally got the food we want in the buffet and began eating. It looked delicious and I ate everything until I couldn’t feel my hands anymore. By the time everything else was finished I was stuffed like a goose. I hadn’t eaten so much in years. I sat back, panting as I stared at my plate full of food.

Namjoon chuckled softly at me before pulling my plate aside and helping himself to some of it as well. We stayed at the table like that for a little bit longer, trying to convince ourselves that it was still safe and that everything was fine. That I could manage to associate with them without any problems or worries. At least for a short while.

“Namjoon!” We heard someone say.

Namjoon and I both looked over in the direction of the voice. I recognized that voice. I immediately knew that it belonged to none other than Kim Taehyung. He was waving at us from across the room with a grin spread across his handsome face as usual.

“Hey, Taehyung!” Namjoon waved back.

Taehyung ran towards us as soon as we acknowledged him, almost tripping a couple times in his haste.

“So you two managed to actually show up.” Taehyung said between gasps for air as he finally stopped in front of us.

“Of course we did. What do you take us for?” Namjoon responded sarcastically, causing Taehyung to laugh heartily.

Taehyung was dressed in a simple black tuxedo. It fit him perfectly, accentuating the lean muscle underneath. His golden hair was slicked back and he looked like he had never been happier.

Taehyung’s gaze slid over to me. ”(y/n)! You’re here!” He exclaimed, walking up closer to us and giving me a big bear hug.

“Yeah, you too, Taehyung. Sorry we’re late.” I apologized, hugging him back, although a bit awkwardly since I wasn't used to having people close to me for so long.

Kim Taehyung. Another first cousin of Namjoon’s. One of the most eligible bachelors in the country.

Kim Taehyung, the man whom everyone wanted to marry.

“Don’t worry about it.” Taehyung replied, releasing me. “Oh, by the way, Namjoon, do you have a minute? I’d like to talk to you in private.” Taehyung asked seriously, a serious expression overtaking his features.

Namjoon glanced briefly at me before nodding his agreement and standing up. “Alright.” Namjoon replied, placing his hand on my shoulder gently. “I’ll be right back.” He told me quietly, squeezing my shoulder gently before leaving.

Taehyung looked at me expectantly. “Don’t worry, it’s just business talk. It’s boring.” He reassured me when he noticed my confused look.

“Okay, I’ll just be here.” I said after a small pause.

I took a seat at the table, waiting patiently for them to come back. I felt hungry again and decided to pick up some more food by the buffet. I wondered if I could eat as much of it as I could.

After taking a bite out of the dessert, my thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat next to me. I didn’t recognize her, but she probably was one of Namjoon’s cousins that he talked about sometimes. As if on cue she cleared her throat again, drawing my attention away from the buffet.

“Could you get me another glass of champagne?” She inquired. “Can you bring me two glasses?”

What? Did I really look like a waiter?

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were one of the waitresses.” She laughed in that fake sweet voice of hers.

Well, now I remember her… Bae Joo-hyun. Her hair fell to her shoulders in smooth waves and I thought I was going to melt because of how perfect she looked.

Except, now I realized how ugly she is inside.

She looked like she didn’t give a damn about anything. She was wearing red lipstick and heavy mascara. In fact, she didn't really look all that different than how Namjoon had described her.

“Excuse me?” I replied, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, please,” She rolled her eyes. “If you think that marrying the sole heir of the Kim enterprise will get you anywhere, think again.” She finished.

I blinked slowly, confused by what she was saying to me. I honestly wasn't sure what to make of it and it was starting to piss me off. I didn't understand why she was acting like this. Was I missing something here?

Does she think I married Namjoon willingly? Does she not know this was an arranged marriage?

“It’s an arranged marriage.” I corrected her quickly. “You know that, right?” I continued. “And it isn’t my idea. So I don’t know what it is you think will happen here… But whatever it is, stop being rude about it.” I informed her. I was getting annoyed with her attitude.

“You think I’m stupid? Of course I know it’s an arranged marriage. Whatever, you’re still an outsider.” Joo-hyun commented, looking unimpressed. “There's nothing that you can do about it anyway.” She added.

“We don’t remember asking for your opinion, Joo-hyun.” Namjoon suddenly spoke up from beside me. Joo-hyun was startled for a moment by his sudden appearance but recovered quickly.

“Namjoon,” She said coolly.

“Let it go.” Namjoon said. “There is no point in bringing this into the house.” He finished firmly.

Joo-hyun glared at Namjoon angrily and turned to look at me before turning back to him.

“I’m wasting my time with you both.” Joo-hyun said before storming off. Namjoon stood silently, watching her leave.

The moment she left, he turned towards me again. He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry about that, (y/n). She can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. She doesn’t mean any harm by it. It’s just how she is.” He explained.

I nodded slightly, smiling weakly. “No worries.” I murmured, feeling kind of bad that Namjoon had to deal with her like this.

Namjoon smiled slightly before looking down at the plate on the table. He picked up the spoon and ate a few more bites of the cake. “Let’s go for a drive.” He said after finishing eating.

I stared at him in confusion. “Where?” I questioned.

“Anywhere but here. Let’s go somewhere else for a change. Somewhere peaceful where we won’t run into Joo-hyun and the others.” Namjoon suggested.

That sounded nice. “All right. Where should we go?” I asked, getting up and standing next to him.

“Somewhere far away from the mansion. Hmm,” Namjoon pondered, staring at the floor. Then, a smile appeared on his face, “how about the bay?”

I gasped, surprised by his choice of location. The place where we ate ice cream while sharing our dreams to each other. It sounded perfect.

“Great idea. Do you mind driving?” I offered, trying to hide my excitement.

“No.” Namjoon stated simply and I gave a soft smile. We left the mansion and walked out of the mansion gates until we reached the parking lot. We climbed into his car, which thankfully still smelled fresh after its last washing. The smell made me want to sleep and maybe dream about those moments again.

Chapter I

Chapter II

#bts #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #bae joohyun #reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #arranged marriage au

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magerightsyeah · 1 year

Text

Revenant

Rating: T

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Discussions of grief/death and mild suicidal ideation

Summary: V’s experience with death and memories, and how to come back from that

Once upon a time I died. It wasn’t pretty, or grandiose, or dramatic. It was messy. And pathetic. One minute I was a person, a living breathing thinking human being. The next? I was a stain on a motel carpet.

And there was nothing. No bright light, no pearly gates, not even a fiery inferno. That’s what I’d probably deserve. But no one deserves what I got.

Nothing, just pure endless nothing.

It wasn’t even a void, a void is something we understand, it’s something we can conceptualize.

It was just… absence. No thoughts, no emotions, no… no being

And I was alone. I wasn’t anything, but I was so fucking alone.

And then I wasn’t. There was something else there with me.

A light? No, not quite.

More like a sound, a shrill ringing that changed into a deep rumble.

Music.

Well, if you used the term “music” generously. I hated it, it was loud and harsh and so full of anger.

But I was singing it.

No, no it wasn’t me. It felt like me, but watching my hands fly across the electric guitar with a finesse I reserved for gunfights, I knew it couldn’t be me. Not to mention one of (not) my hands had a distinctive metallic glint under the fluorescent lights.

And the hatred. Burning, seething, hatred.

I, whoever I was in that moment, was so fucking angry. And I had no idea why.

Then I was in Arasaka Tower. There was a place I never though I’d see again. Not after the incident with Jenkins, anyhow.

It was different though, almost imperceptibly so. Anyone else would’ve missed it, little design flaws that are impossible to notice until the structure is actually built. Absent in the Tower I was familiar with, apparent in this one.

I didn’t have time to dwell on architecture for very long, however, as bullets whizzed past my head from every direction.

Funnily enough, I felt far more comfortable with a gun in (not) my hand than I had felt with that microphone or that guitar.

The gun felt at home in my hand, and fired with a ferocity and a kickback that could only come from a custom model.

Who was I? Why was I here? Was that a bomb?

More bullets flying, most of them hitting my metal arm or my bulletproof vest. Why was I wearing a bulletproof vest and a tank top? That seemed incredibly stupid. Was I stupid? I didn’t feel stupid, but stupid people rarely do.

I couldn’t feel my legs. The helicopter took off, and I fell, and I couldn’t feel my legs.

Adam Smasher towered over me, a sick smile playing on his chalky white lips. I reached for my gun, desperate to do something, anything, to prevent the inevitable.

“I told you I’d end you, Silverhand.”

A gunshot.

I was on a gurney. Had someone come back for me? Was I going to be okay?

My ears were ringing and I couldn’t hear what the medics around me were saying, but I could very clearly see the Arasaka logo painted plainly on the black transport.

It was at this point that my feelings and (not) my feelings aligned quite nicely, as we seemed to have a simultaneous thought of “fuck.”

Saburo Arasaka. He was dead wasn’t he? No, this was him. It was him, but it wasn’t him. He was younger, he seemed less… tired, somehow.

The explosion going on behind him was unavoidable, as it and its fallout took up the entirety of the large windows that made up the wall. A massive mushroom cloud rose above the city, painting the sky a rusty bloody red.

They put something on my head, but it was hard to make out. My ears hadn’t stopped ringing since Smasher pushed me over that fucking banister.

And then she turned it on.

The pain- the pain was indescribable. I’d been shot, stabbed, strangled, drowned, even set on fire once or twice. But this? I had never experienced pain before this moment.

It was freezing cold and searing hot all at once, it was drills being slowly driven into my skull and it was needles being shoved into every inch of my body all at once. My eyes felt like they were going to burst from the pressure, and every part of my body was spasming from the pain.

I had seen death, I had seen death and I had rebuked her advance. And this was my punishment.

And then I woke up. First in a landfill covered in shit, then in a car with an Arasaka agent, and finally in Vik’s clinic, staring up at the ceiling fan.

Brain damage. Engram. Few weeks to live. Omega blockers. Pseudoendotrizine. Terrorist living in my fucking head. A parasite.

Misty wheeled me back up to my apartment and left me with the pills and the necklace. A good luck charm. I hoped she was right.

I crawled into bed, clutching it close to my chest. Jackie was dead. T was dead. Dex was dead, and I didn’t even get to be the one to kill him.

And now I was dead, or might as well be.

The pounding in my head hadn’t stopped, my little tapeworm making his presence known, I guessed, so I tried to get some sleep. That didn’t last long.

He was punching me. How the hell was he punching me? Wasn’t he supposed to be a fucking hologram or some shit?

I forced a few blockers down my throat dry, willing myself to keep it down.

Fuck.

I crawled into the shower, turning the water cold with a flick of my Kiroshis, and just let it wash over me.

Fuck.

I looked over at my weapons closet, my guns proudly displayed within.

It’d be easy, wouldn’t it? Misty had advised against it, but the fucking tapeworm didn’t seem to mind the idea of being wiped from existence.

Maybe he didn’t know what came after, maybe he didn’t care. But I did, on both counts.

I forced myself to my feet, ignoring how much like jello my legs felt, and made my way over to my computer.

I wasn’t going to lie down like a elderly dog in the fucking sun. I wasn’t going to let him win.

I fix problems, that’s what I’ve always done. With Arasaka, with Jackie, and now with this.

Dex had been a slimy cantankerous rat, but he had been right about one thing. You gotta make a choice; quiet life or a blaze of glory?

I’d been brought back for a reason, and I was going to make it count. I was going to burn this whole fucking city to the ground if I had to.

And this Relic would only be fuel for the fire.

#my writing #fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 #drabble #stream of consciousness #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 v #crossposted on ao3 #ao3 #one shot

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ktlurry · 2 years

Text

CAIN - 2. Welcome To Gotham

While in deep slumber from anesthetic gas Number 1 dispersed on her, all Cassandra could dream about was all the intense, inhumane training her father had her do as a little girl. She could still feel the snaps of her bones and the cuts from a blade when he wouldn't hold back during combat training, and the sound of a handgun firing at her legs and arms to teach her how to endure pain. Not very pleasant dreams to conjure every night, but this was normal for Cassandra. This was her childhood.

As Cassandra starts to regain consciousness, she attempts to move her hands only to be unsuccessful due to the chains wrapped around her wrist and ankles and being carried over the shoulders by the thug known as Number 1. They continue down a long hallway that resembles something of a luxury hotel building. Crisp white walls and floors with a fine red carpet leading to a set of tall black double doors. As Number 1 enters the double doors, at the front stands 2 more black-suited thugs in a giant, penthouse-sized suite with giant windows looking down at the Gotham city skyline. At the end of the suite are a long black desk and bright white desk chair facing the huge window.

Number 1: Excuse me, boss, I brought the girl.

Number 1 then throws Cassandra down onto the ground as she smacks her face onto the hard marble floor.

???: Watch the damn floor!

Yelled the man sitting in the desk chair.

???: I don't want to ruin the nice white floors, Number 1!

The man then turns around from the chair slowly and reveals himself. Roman Sionis. Also known as Gotham City's kingpin, The Black Mask. His appearance explains the name perfectly. On his head is a black skull-like mask permanently attached to his head making him look grim and menacing. Aside from his all-white pinstripe suit with a black shirt and white tie, everything about this guy just screams bad news for Cassandra.

Black Mask: So who do we have here?

Black Mask comes from around the desk to confront the restrained Cassandra as she is able to at least sit upright.

Number 1: She is very skilled, sir. She took out at least a dozen of our men during the dropoff, and she wears the Bat's sigil.

Black Mask: I can see that.

Cassandra looks down at the yellow bat symbol on her shirt then looks up at Black Mask with a mean mug on her face.

Black Mask: Taking out a bunch of my men with guns ain't something a normal girl would do, so Lemme ask you, what was it you wanted with my guns, little miss?

Cassandra: ...

Black Mask: Not talking huh? Well, let me ask you this...DO YOU WORK FOR THE BAT!?

Black Mask yells as he gets uncomfortably close to her face. Cassandra just sits there in silence, staring up back at him. If she could speak she would. The thing about Cassandra's condition is she can understand spoken language but cannot communicate it back in any way. She can't write, read, or speak, but Black Mask doesn't know that. He just thinks she's being stubborn.

Black Mask reaches for his handgun on his desk. He cocks the hammer back and points it straight at Cassandra's head which Cassandra doesn't flinch at all.

Black Man: I'm not gonna ask you again, little girl. Are you or are you not WORKING FOR THE DAMN BATMAN!?

The entire time Cassandra has been quietly fiddling with the chains around her wrist trying to break free. Part of her training with her father was learning how to escape any bindings while being submerged underwater, so doing it on the dry ground shouldn't be difficult for her. As she continues she notices a bright red glare through the window. The light seems to be coming from another roof of a skyscraper across from the building they're in. It's a sniper. Cassandra's face then went from serious to surprised and Black Mask took notice and lowered his weapon.

Black Mask: What? Why so surprised now?

Black Mask begins to turn around but before he could rotate fully, Cassandra releases herself from her chains and leaps toward Black Mask knocking him down to avoid the sniper. The glass on one of the tall windows suddenly shatters and the bullet of the sniper penetrates the marble floor where Casandra was. Black Mask takes cover in front of his desk while Number 1 and the two thugs point their weapons towards the rooftop where the sniper is perched.

Black Mask: WHAT THE HELL?!

Number 1: BOSS, A SNIPER! GET DOWN!

Black Mask: YEA NO SHIT, DUMBASS. SOMEBODY GET THAT SHOOTER!

Number 1 pulls out a sniper rifle from a large gun locker on the left side of the office suite and stares down the scope towards where the shot had come from. There he sees and man in a grayish mask with a giant red lens on the right side of his face. He is fully kitted up in military-grade armor and ammunition rounds in many pockets around his suit.

Number 1: It's Deadshot! There! On the roof!

Warned Number 1.

Black Mask: Lawton! What the hell is he doing out?!

Floyd Lawton also known as the world's greatest marksman, Deadshot, is an assassin for hire that Black Mask has hired in the past to take down their masked vigilante in Gotham. He didn't succeed and was facing life in prison for all the lives he took before.

On the roof, Deadshot just sits there with his sniper mounted on the perch of the roof. He loads another large round into the chamber of his rifle and cocks to shoot another shot to then be rudely interrupted by some radio chatter.

???: You missed, Lawton!

Deadshot then reaches toward his radio in his ear and replies.

Deadshot: Didn't miss. The target just moved out of sight.

???: Sounds like some excuse if you ask me. Maybe ol' Lawton has lost his touch.

Deadshot: Just shut up and do your jobs, boys.

Deadshot proceeds to look down the scope of his rifle where he sees Cassandra pop her head up from behind the desk.

Black Mask: Take the shot, Number 1.

Black Mask still hiding behind the desk as well, is losing patients to his henchman. As Number 1 prepares to fire a shot at the marksmen on the roof, a loud explosion blows the black doors off of the hinges knocking down Number 1 and the other two thugs to the hard floor. Cassandra turns her attention to the gaping hole in the wall where the doors were and Deadshot takes advantage of the situation.

Deadshot: Bang.

Deadshot then pulls the trigger, and it penetrates Cassandra in the back of her right shoulder piercing straight through as she releases a small grunt of pain. She then realizes that she is the target, not the Black Mask.

Deadshot: And hit. Time to move in.

As the smoke clears from the explosion, two male figures walk into the office suite. One with a blue hat and a long blue trench coat with what seems to be boomerangs attached to his torso and jacket. The other was a large muscular masked man wearing a shirt with no sleeves and military cargo pants with an arsenal of weapons and grenades attached to him including an automatic machine gun for his left arm.

Black Mask picks up his handgun and points it toward one of the gentlemen standing at the door.

Black Mask: Who the hell are you guys?

The man in the blue trench coat suddenly tosses a boomerang at Black Mask striking his wrist and making him drop his handgun.

Black Mask: AHH! Why you stupid son of a...

The man then catches the boomerang as it flies back over to him and interrupts Black Mask with a strong Australian accent.

Captain Boomerang: Why, I think that should answer your question there, mate.

The two men were Captain Boomerang, a known villain from Star City, and KGBeast, an Ex-KGB assassin.

Number 1 attempts to retrieve the sniper rifle he dropped during the explosion, but KGBeast uses his machine gun on his arm to rain bullets down on the henchmen killing him.

Black Mask: That was my top guy!

KGBeast turns and points his gun toward Black Mask and with a strong Russian accent replies to him.

KGBeast: Well you're going to need a better one.

Black Mask's eyes turn dead as he feels it in his soul that his time is up. Suddenly Cassandra kicks KGBeast's arm up into the air causing him to spray bullets into the roof of the suite, saving Black Mask from his own demise. She then throws multiple strikes into the assassin's torso and ends it with a roundhouse kick to the stomach knocking the Russian down onto the floor. As KGBeast lies still on the floor, the sound of radio chatter comes through his earpiece.

Deadshot: Damn, KG! I saw that from all the way up here.

KGBeast then lifts his head up and mutters under his breath.

KGBeast: I'm gonna kill you, Cain.

Boomerang then throws multiple boomerangs at Cassandra who dodges each one dashing left to right as they miss her stabbing straight into the floor. As she inches closer and closer to Captain Boomerang, he quickly throws a boomerang straight into the ground in front of Cassandra that begins to beep with a flashing red light. Cassandra noticing the projectile's timer quickly changes direction and jumps backward as it explodes.

Captain Boomerang: I've read your file, love. I'm not letting you get that close to me. I'll leave you to the brawler.

The small shock of the explosion catches Cassandra and blows her back toward KGBeast who is already standing up and grabs her in a strong bear hug.

KGBeast: Gotcha!

Cassandra begins to struggle as Captain Boomerang walks up to her pulling out another boomerang, but this one is as sharp as a blade.

Captain Boomerang: Now hold 'er still, mate. This one's gonna hurt.

Cassandra continues to struggle in the grasp of KGBeast as Boomerang inches closer. She then forces her head backward slamming it into the Russian brute's face. She repeatedly does so until he eventually loosens his grip.

KGBeast: Ahhh! My nose!

Boomerang then lunges forward to slash Cassandra, but she flips out of KGBeast's grasp and on top of his shoulders causing Captain Boomerang to slash him in the torso cutting his shirt instead.

KGBeast: AHHH!

Captain Boomerang: Geez, mate. My bad.

Boomerang looks up at Cassandra on KGBeast's shoulders to only be welcomed with a kick to the face knocking him down. Cassandra then repeatedly strikes KGBeast repeatedly on the head attempting to lay him out.

KGBeast: Get off me, Cain!

KGBeast throws her off his shoulders, but Cassandra is able to land softly on her feet and immediately goes straight for him. KGBeast throws some punches, but Cassandra is able to read his every movement making it easy to avoid every strike of his and return some accurate strikes of her own.

Back on the rooftop, Deadshot observes the fight and holds his finger to his earpiece to communicate.

Deadshot: This girl is good. I put an entire bullet through her shoulder, and she is still kicking Anatoli's ass. I'm not sure if bringing her in alive will be an option.

The voice of a woman responds to Deadshot through his earpiece.

???: Unless you would want to answer to our special client, I'd expect you to do exactly as I tell you to do, Lawton.

Deadshot: Whatever you say.

Deadshot then places his hand on the back of his neck gracefully and mutters under his breath.

Deadshot: God, I hate her!

He then continues to place another bullet in the chamber of his rifle to get ready to fire another shot at Cassandra. As he looks down the scope of the gun, he is interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

???: Ahem. Lawton?

Deadshot quickly pulls his handgun from his side and immediately turns around pointing it towards the stranger to only have it knocked straight out of his hand and off the roof. Deadshot then looks toward his falling weapon then looks up at the stranger holding his wrist.

Deadshot: Ah no! Not you!

In an instant, Deadshot is hit directly in the face with a long metal rod and knocked unconscious.

Back at the office suite while Cassandra is fighting KGBeast and Captain Boomerang, Black Mask sneakily crawls to his gun locker on the side of the office and punches in a code in the electronic keypad to acquire another weapon. As KGBeast still tries to land a hit on Cassandra, Boomerang tries to get an angle on her to hit her with a sharp projectile. KGBeast attempts to grab Cassandra again in another hold but jumps up and with force, knees him in the bottom of his chin knocking him down instantly. She then jumps over top of him and is delivering quick, precise strikes to his head as he is blocking his face. Boomerang then prepares himself to throw his boomerang.

Captain Boomerang: Gotcha, love.

He throws the boomerang and hits Cassandra right in the shoulder directly into the bullet wound where Deadshot shot her. Cassandra then lets out a loud groan of pain as she stumbles over KGBeast. He grabs her by her ankle and forcefully slams her to the ground.

KGBeast: I got you now, Cain!

KGBeast then points his machine gun arm at Cassandra's face as she sits there in pain holding onto her shoulder where the sharp boomerang is sticking out.

Black Mask: And I got all of you's!

The three of them turn to look at Black Mask as he stands there with an RPG loaded and ready to fire.

Black Mask: Bringing that girl back here was a big mistake, and has caused me nothing but unwanted attention, so how bout all of you GO TO HELL!

Before Black Mask could even fire the weapon, a titanium-weaved rope with a grapple at the end of it wraps around the barrel of the RPG and is instantly flung from Black Mask's grasp. As he looks up towards the flying launcher, his eyes widened as Robin flies through the broken window and greets the kingpin with a solid kick to the head knocking him down to the hard, white floor.

Robin: Causing quite the commotion over here huh, Roman.

KGBeast immediately points his gun toward the boy wonder as Boomerang backs up in confusion.

Captain Boomerang: What the hell?! Do all the psychos in this town start off this young? This kid don't look old enough to drink yet!

Black Mask then picks his head up to respond.

Black Mask: Welcome to Gotham.

Robin then pulls out his metal bow staff from the back of his utility belt which extends longer and knocks Black Mask unconscious. KGBeast and Captain Boomerang then hear the woman in their earpiece soon after.

???: Sounds like you ran into the boy wonder, which means the Bat might not be far behind. This operation might be botched now. I suggest that if you can escape with the girl then do it quickly. If not then get out of there now! I already lost radio signal from Deadshot.

KGBeast then points his attention back to Cassandra.

KGBeast: No! Cain dies tonight.

Captain Boomerang: What?

Cassandra then takes out the boomerang from her soldier and stabs it into KGBeast's shoulder which distracts him enough to lodge an accurate strike into his deltoid of the arm holding his gun with the tips of her fingers. He then stumbles back and realizes that he can't move his entire arm holding his machine gun, and out of frustration charges at her.

KGBeast: I'LL KILL YOU!!!

Robin then launches himself using his bow staff as a vault and knocks down KGBeast.

Robin: Don't know who you two are, but I'm assuming you're with Lawton, correct?

Captain Boomerang: Don't matter now.

Boomerang throws down smoke to cover his escape from the boy wonder. He searches for KGBeast in the thick cloud and finds him lying on the ground holding his shoulder.

Captain Boomerang: Come on, mate! Waller says we gotta bolt before the bat gets here.

KGBeast sits upright and reaches in his back pocket to retrieve something. He then pulls out what looks like a C4 explosive device and places it on the ground to arm it.

KGBeast: I'm not leaving until Cain is dead!

Captain Boomerang: What is it with you and that girl? We were supposed to bring her in alive not kill her.

KGBeast: Ignores Boomerang and proceeds to arm the explosive.

Captain Boomerang: Whatever, mate. I'm out of here.

Captain Boomerang then runs through the hole in the wall in an attempt to escape the building. As KGBeast arms the C4, Robin is walking through the thick smoke fanning a pathway with his bow staff and finds Cassandra bleeding from her shoulder.

Robin: Are you alright? What's your name?

Cassandra shakes her head no then points right behind him. As the smoke clears, the first thing Robin sees is KGBeast arming the C4 explosive and standing up with a detonator in his hand as he backs up slowly from the explosive.

Robin: What are you doing! Are you crazy!

KGBeast then places his finger on the red button of the detonator as he continues to back up slowly.

KGBeast: David Cain caused me so much trouble in the past. I'm not leaving till I kill a Cain, even if I have to kill myself.

The woman then screams through KGBeast's earpiece.

???: Anatoli! Abort mission NOW!!!

KGBeast then pushes the button and a large explosion blows a giant hole through the floor of the office suite causing the three of them to fall through.

Robin quickly grabs Cassandra and shoots his grapnel gun toward a beam on the ceiling of the upper level. The hook wraps around, but the beam can't hold and snaps anyway causing them to fall to the lower level. They hit the ground of the level beneath them but not as hard as KGBeast did. Debris continues to fall from above them as they try to avoid as much of it as possible, but Cassandra gets caught under a large chunk of floor. Despite his hard fall, KGBeast gets up and immediately looks for Cassandra who he sees stuck underneath the rubble. He gets up and starts moving toward her chuckling in the process.

KGBeast: Hehehe. I gotcha now, Cain.

The earpiece in KGBeast's ear is damaged from the fall and the woman on the other side attempts to give orders to the Russian, but the audio is distorted.

???: ANATOLI, YOU BETTER LISTEN TO ME! GET OUT OF THERE NOW!

He ignores the orders and proceeds toward Cassandra.

KGBeast: No. This must be done.

He then removes his earpiece and throws it on the ground next to him as he is determined to kill Cassandra. He limps closer toward her as the lady in the earpiece continues to yell at him unaware that he has removed the communicator from his ear.

???: NO! YOU BETTER LISTEN TO ME ANATOLI! YOU ARE TO LEAVE THAT AREA IMMEDIATELY! DO YOU HEAR ME, ANATOLI KNYAZEV?! LEAVE NOW OR I'LL BE FORCED TO HIT THIS BUTTON.

Robin who is laying on the ground in pain from his fall can't get up in time to save Cassandra before KGBEast gets to her. Cassandra just watches helplessly under the ruble as KGBeast approaches her. Robin is able to sit up straight and makes an attempt to go save her, but as KGBeast leans to pick up the rubble on top of Cassandra, a beeping sound comes from the back of KGBeast's neck. He then stops suddenly and grabs his head in a panic.

KGBeast: NO NO NO NO NO! WALLER DON'T!

A red light on the back of KGBeast's neck flashes faster and faster simultaneously with the beeping sound indicating that there was a bomb planted in his head. He backs up yelling for it to stop as the countdown continues to accelerate.

KGBeast: WALLER!!!

Cassandra braces herself as well as Robin as moments later a small explosion occurs severing KGBeast's head from his body. His headless body stands there for a few seconds then tumbles over hitting the ground right next to the removed earpiece which the woman speaks from one last time.

???: You made me do it, Anatoli.

Robin then retrieves his bow staff he dropped during the explosion and made his way toward Cassandra.

Robin: Jesus! What was that about?

The boy wonder then helps Cassandra out from underneath the rubble.

Robin: Are you ok?

Cassandra, covered from head to toe in black soot, shakes her head up and down to signal she is unharmed, but then covers the wound on her shoulder with her hand.

Robin: That seems like a nasty wound. Let me help you.

As he attempts to help Cassandra she flinches back signaling she doesn't need his assistance.

Robin: Alright then. Can you speak?

Cassandra: ...

Cassandra just stares at him.

Robin: The big guy kept calling you Cain, is that your name.

Cassandra shakes her head up and down.

Robin: Ok, Cain, who were these guys, and what did they want from you?

Cassandra: ...

Robin: Still not speaking, huh? But you understand me right?

Cassandra shakes her head again.

Robin: Alright then. Give me a minute and I can take you home.

Robin then turns around to search around him for any clues. Robin happens to be an expert detective, so any small detail could help him figure out what was truly going on. He walks by the body of KGBeast and stumble upon his communication earpiece. Robin picks it up and studies it for a second and continues to ask Cassandra a question.

Robin: That guy kept yelling out the name Waller. That wouldn't happen to be Amanda Waller, would it?

Robin turns around to realize that Cassandra was no longer there. Robin looks around and finds no trace of her anywhere except a small puddle of blood from her gunshot wound. He then takes a sample in a small capsule for analysis. As he puts away the capsule in his belt a woman then speaks to him through his communicator in his ear.

???: I saw the whole thing through your mask, Tim. Who was that?

Robin: Don't know, but I have a feeling we'll be seeing her around more.

*This is strictly a fanfiction story. I do not own rights to these characters or images*

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naruyuki-writes · 2 years

Text

Ravenovia's Death and Rebirth

Summary: A retelling of Strahd's descent into madness.

Word Count: 1298

Over the course of the last few years, Ravenovia has her eye on a girl named Tatyana. A girl her brother, Sergei, brings into the line of sight. She tries countless times to draw her eye and after many failed attempts, it was a simple statement in her Tatyana’s final rejection of Ravenovia

“Sergei’s heart is the one that calls to me.”

Ravenovia trifles with dark magics in her fit of rage and madness and seeks a way to kill her brother and finds one that will doubly benefit her.

On the day of Tatyana and Segei’s wedding, she appears wearing a beautiful black and white dress. Her presence is met with scorn from the lovely bride and groom. She regards them with a smiling veneer.

“You both look quite dashing on this fine day. Such a lovely… couple.” she saunters closer to them, her heels muted on the blue velvet carpet. “I do apologize for not meeting the theme requirement. I’ve just always believed I looked better in blood red.” she chuckles as she lifts her white gloved hands in the air. After a moment she lets her arms fall to her side and lowers her gaze back to Sergei. The veneer fades and falters into disdain. With no warning, she lunges for her brother. A blade previously unseen is now drawn and slicing through Sergei’s fine fabrics and flesh. They struggle and fight, Sergei doing his best to avoid Ravenovia’s precise slashes. She trips him and plunges the knife in his stomach, falling on top of him. Her hands leave the handle of the blade and dive for his neck. She squeezes harder and harder, staring into his eyes so that he can see her madness and she can see his fear.

“I hope you understand now why I wore black!” she mutters to him through her teeth. She holds her grip on his neck until his eyes roll back into his head and he falls unconscious. It’s almost painful for her to release all of the tension and strain residing in her knuckles, but she does; hands shaking with the adrenaline coursing through her. She reaches for the knife in his stomach and rips it out, sheathing it bloody. “Your death will fuel my life forever,” she whispers as her hand blurs with darkness. She swirls her hand and raises her arm in the air. Like being unsheathed from an invisible scabbard, she pulls a sword of maddening shadow into existence, then plunges it down into her brother’s chest. She carves through his skin and tissues and crunches into the bones that protect his heart.

Ravenovia ungracefully yanks his heart from its home, still warm, firm yet fragile, bloody red. It soaks into her once pure white gloves, staining them crimson. She whips her head around to the stunned bride, Tatyana. She’s trembling in place, like everyone else in the audience. No one is brave enough to make a move, so all they do is gaze upon the horror of Ravenovia and what she’s doing.

“Tatyana. Is this the heart you spoke of that called to you?”

Silence.

“Well?! Is it?!” she screams at the top of her lungs and she raises herself to her feet. Then Tatyana runs and Ravenovia gives chase.

“Tatyana, you know damn well this all could have been prevented.” Ravenovia’s voice echoes through the halls, her heels’ previous quickened pace slowing as she caroles her quarry. “If you had just chosen ME!”

After the strenuous chase up and up and up Tatyana finds herself at the balcony with a stomach churning drop. With the only exit being blocked by a deranged and bloody Ravenovia.

“Now, you have nowhere to go.” her brother’s heart is still dripping a trail of blood behind her, growing cold. “This heart means absolutely nothing,” she sinks her fingers deep inside the muscle, the remaining blood and plasma oozing out until it caves in on itself with a sick spurt of blood, splashing across Ravenovia’s face. “My heart is the only one left… does it not call to you?” She stalks closer to Tatyana who is desperately looking every which way for a means of escape. She turns her back to Ravenvoia, squeezing her fingers around the railing of the balcony staring into the face of plunging darkness below.

“Ravenovia… you are a horrid monster and your heart only sputters out a disgusting croak. A cry no one would ever answer to, not out of pity… not even out of desperation. You will die alone and I will die with my heart belonging to another.” Tatyana swiftly climbs over the railing and dives off.

Ravenovia does not even react as she watches the love of her life willingly jump to her death just to escape her. The words she spoke pierce her deep to her core. She throws the heart down and stamps down onto it with her toe, twisting it into the stone. She does not move to the balcony, but instead back into the castle. There is a fire building up in her stomach, climbing to her chest, clawing up her throat and screaming from her mouth. She begins to hear the armored clatter of her guards. The first one she spots she shoves them into the wall, removing their helm and bashing their skull with it. She throws the helm at the next guard she spots, smacking them in the face.

“DON’T GET IN MY FUCKING WAY!” she removes their sword from their side and stabs into the gap between their armor at their shoulder, pinning them to the wall. She continues to scream as she tirades down the halls of her castle. It isn’t until she’s faced with three guards holding spears at the ready, all staring down her huffing, crazed and bloodied body.

“Did you not HEAR ME?”

“Lady Ravenovia, you must stand down at once or we will take action against you.”

She spits out a laugh and cackles maniacally, truly tickled by the threat.

“GO AHEAD!” she extends her arms out and bears her chest wide, welcoming whatever onslaught they desire to bring down upon her. They did nothing. She opens her eyes and cocks her head.

“You’ve murdered your brother Lady Ravenovia, we cannot allow you to continue freely around the castle, you must come with us.”

“Come with you? What and arrest me? No, I would rather die!” she strides towards them and lifts her swirling hand, beginning to unsheath the same shadowy blade she used to carve her brother’s chest open. And at the flick of her wrist, the head of the front guard’s spear plunges deep into her heart. She gasps in shock and pain, her spell falters and the dark mist evaporates from around her hand. She crumples to her knees, her hands latching onto the wooden pole. The life force from her body dissipates and it succumbs to the heart stopping stab. Her hands go slack and her arms fall to her side one last time.

The three guards look amongst each other as they realize they have killed the Lady.

“Quickly, you go straight to the captain and alert her of what has happened, we’ll deal with… her body.”

“Aye,” the guard runs off and the two remaining stare at Ravenovia’s still body, blood spilling from her wound.

“You grab her and I’ll pull the spear out.”

“I cannot believe the Lady went mad like that… ripping out her poor brother’s heart. I knew tales of her victories, but to extend such brutality to your own family,” the guard crouches down and takes her shoulders. “UGH!”

Ravenovia’s hand grabs the guard's beard and yanks him closer. Staring back at him are bright violet eyes and a widening mouth with rows of fangs.

#dnd #curse of strahd #writing #Ravenovia is the reimagination of Strahd my friend and I have made I love her #i enjoy writing clever dialogue for her #writblr #prose #mini prose #creative writing #short story

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