#(there has been a lot of actual real life screaming in voice chat as well.) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1987vampire · 3 years

Text

Proxies x reader NSFW HCs

alot of these scenes will actually most likely end up in this story im writing lmao, so stick around if you want to see them fleshed out

Let's get the obvious beginner out of the way.

Toby is a tits man, Brian likes ass, and Tim is happy with whatever (he likes tits more he just doesn't want to be rude)

Now, let's start with Toby

Toby is the most submissive bottom you will meet in your life.

Has slipped a bit too far into subspace a few times, and you've had to stop immediately once you realized.

Motherfucker just wants to be dommed and dommed hard. Just tell him what to do, please.

Has the biggest fucking mommy kink (which contributes to his love for tits because the motherfucker will lavish those bitches like no other when given the chance)

Also has the biggest praise kink you will ever see. Has came embarrassingly fast because you called him your good boy.

99 percent of his knowledge of sex comes from porn so,, he's going to have to be retaught most everything.

Has definitely groped your tit too hard on multiple occasions because he thought it was the right thing to do.

Surprisingly good learner, though. Just wants to make you happy.

He's the best one for quickies out of all of them only because he cums extremely fast while still prioritizing you.

(He makes up for how fast he cums by how many times he can do it. Motherfucker will paint you white all over before his body gives out. Plus, his CIPA makes it to where he can't feel the burning in his legs as he fucks you for hours. Has literally kept going until his body gave out because you wanted him to.)

All the boys have very specific thoughts on oral. Toby will give or receive, whichever makes you happier, but when he's allowed to go down on you, it's like you're his last meal.

It's one of the only time's he'll disobey your commands because it doesn't matter if you've already came three times??? He's still eating, lady, shhh.

Tried to dom one (1) time. Not doing that again. Dude started crying half-way through because he thought he was hurting you and your feelings by ordering you around.

You had to pause and take a bath with him afterwards while he calmed down. He spent half the bath blubbering into your neck and apologizing more times than you could count.

Now, Brian is the exact opposite of Toby.

You asked to try and let him be the bottom a single time and he fucked you so hard you couldn't walk the next day.

A little shithead who loves blowjobs. Will give you head, but much prefers you on your knees with him stuffed so far in that he’s tapping the back of your throat and you’re gripping his thighs while he uses you for nothing more than his pleasure in the moment.

Will mix degradation in with praise like he's been doing it his entire life. Has given you whiplash multiple times because of it.

He's so loud, too. Toby is whiny and begs, but this dude is in your ear with low grunts and groans, his voice spilling the foulest words he can think of.

Has you seeing stars while mumbling into your neck shit like "your pretty little pussy's taking me so well - like you were built to be my cocksleeve. Just a cumslut who takes whatever I give you. Look at you, all fucked out of your mind, pretty little baby. Can't wait to paint your fuckin' insides. It's what whores like you deserve."

He's also the best at aftercare, though. You normally have to take care of Toby after, and Tim does jack shit unless needed.

Brian, though, has his dresser packed with shit to take care of you with after. Will bathe you, dress you, tell you little reassurances, make sure you're okay.

He's also best at knowing when to stop. He can sense your hesitation as if he's the one feeling it.

Because of his dirty mouth, he's had to break off sessions early a few times. The biggest was when you started crying halfway through him fucking you missionary, and not the kind of crying he liked (because let's be real, this motherfucker loves to see you cry and beg to cum.)

He had called you a whore a few too many times through the session, and you had taken it a bit too close to heart (it was something that hit a bit harder than needed since you were dating multiple men at once.)

He spent the whole night cuddling you and reassuring you that he didn't really mean it. He loved you, they all did, it was just for the roleplay. "Stop crying, pretty baby, we're okay. I'm not actually mad. Let me see a smile, c'mon, doll."

Also, let me mention that because y'all are so fucking loud, Tim has banged on the door quite a few times trying to get you to calm down.

Tim made the mistake of grumbling to himself during dinner one time in front of you and Brian that 'you're so fucking loud it sounds like you're recording a goddamn porno in there.'

If you hadn't been choking on your food so hard, you might have noticed the sly grin that crossed Brian's face, though it was brought back later when he ended up filming you quite a few times from that night. It wouldn't be posted anywhere - fuck that, you were theirs, and no one else's.

(he did accidentally share a video of you cumming to the group chat all four of you were in on accident while sending cute pictures of the two of you. The mortification of hearing your moans come through the speaker of Toby's phone while he stared at it dumbfounded was enough for you to not talk to Brian for a whole week. It didn't matter if they had seen you like that before, it was still embarrassing!)

(Brian didn't tell you that the other two - Tim especially - had been sent worse videos than that.)

SPEAKING OF TIM.

Let's get started with this man. Tim is the laziest motherfucker known to man but it is nice.

Really, he’s not lazy, he’s just tired a lot, and he doesn’t want to put the effort in the fuck you senseless when you’ve got two others for that.

He prefers sleepy fucking where you’re both half-out-of-it and breathless. He enjoys both of you on your sides with him spooning you, his hips moving just enough to give enough friction for the both of you to cum after a while. You can and will fall alseep right after with him still buried inside of you.

Speaking of, what’s the best way to get y’all’s sexual tension out while still being lazy (besides just making you ride him which he does very often) ? Cockwarming.

He won’t even just do it in bed when it’s the two of you. He’s shimmied his pants down just enough for his cock to slip out and pushed your panties aside (since you were only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear. I mean, what did you think would happen?) and made you sit on him in the middle of the living room while the other two were lounging around, too distracted to notice.

However, if someone does notice (Especially in the beginning because you were horrible at hiding your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing from understimulation) he would not hide it.

“H-hey, y/-y/n, what’s-sss-s with the f-fa-face?” Toby had asked innocently one night while you were all watching TV together. You knew Tim was smirking behind you as he lifted the hem of the big shirt just enough to let Toby know what was going on. Boy blushed so hard and covered his eyes, smacking his face harshly in the process, and Tim and Brian snickered (because of course Brian already knew.)

Cockwarming also means that the second you finally - finally - start fucking, it’s over for the two of you in less than a minute, your fingers clawing at him as you finally get your release after hours. (the longest he’s made the two of you wait was four hours because we’re watching Toby’s favorite movies, we can’t interrupt him, now can we, darlin’?’

He’s also a huge fan of facesitting. Not the biggest fan of receiving blowjobs only because it makes him feel too vulnerable, but he could have you sit on his face for hours and not complain, his hands gripping your ass tight enough to leave bruises as he laved his tongue over your clit over and over.

The only - only - times Tim has fucked you rough was when it wasn’t even really him. You had been half-asleep with your back to him one time as he rutted into you slowly when you suddenly felt yourself flipped so you were ass up with your face being pushed into the mattress, his hips jutting at a speed you didn’t know he could reach.

You didn’t even have to look back to know that Masky - his alter that didn’t show himself too often around you - had taken over.

During getting fucked that time by Masky, you ended up so deep in subspace, trying to please the man you didn’t get too see that often that you let him him rip orgasm after orgasm from you until you couldn’t think straight and you entered a space where all you felt was pleasure, and you couldn’t even see straight.

You were brought out of it by Tim pressing a cold rag to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings to you as he tried to get you to come to, apologizing profusely for letting it happen. You had just grinned and - though your voice was thoroughly fucked up from screaming - told him to let Masky know he could do that again any time. Tim had gotten so flustered that he walked out of the room for a few minutes.

Speaking of alters real quick.

Tim and Brian are the only ones to have them - Masky and Hoody respectfully, of course - and they come out around you very little. Hoody comes out more than Masky though, and you can tell the difference in how quiet Brian will get.

Hoody and Masky have fucked you both separately and together (so have Tim and Brian but we’ll get to that in a second)

Masky loves you ass and prefers to have you in doggystyle over anything while Brian’s love for blowjobs is only intensified in his alter who will have you gagging on him until you almost pass out. He’ll give you a moment to breathe in just a second, just hold on a little longer, okay?

Hoody is almost always silent besides grunts that let him communicate with Masky. This is apparent even when you’re not fucking, and the three of you have to teach yourselves how to decipher the man’s made up language.

Masky is quiet too, but will grumble to himself more than anything, calling you the worst name’s he can think of while he slams into you so hard that you don’t even have to move yourself to give Hoody a proper blowjob, his grip on your hips and force of his thrusts are enough to have you bouncing back and forth quickly.

It’s not like you could really move anyways, not when Masky’s picking you up by your thighs and holding your hips up as he plows into you.

They love spitroasting but have definitely done double penetration even if you complain that you’re not prepped. Who cares? You’re obviously ready for it, look at you already cumming even though they haven’t moved.

Now, as for threesomes and or foursomes

Nine times out of ten, Toby is too embarrassed to do anything in front of the other two. Maybe if you coax him enough, reassure him that nobody will judge, he might join in for the night, but it’s an incredibly rare occurrence. Watching Brian boss you around is enough to make him squirm. You were supposed to be in change, not him? But there you were with your tongue sticking out as you rolled your hips against Tim, ready to fit either of them in your mouth. The other can always take another hole.

Toby not wanting to join doesn’t really both the other two though, and though it’s still not as common to have a threesome compared to one on one, Tim and Brian are always ready to share. Especially when you look so pretty whining into the air as you take both of them at once.

You don’t mind if Brian takes a few photos, right? I mean, just look at you! This is a perfect moment to capture. Ignore the fact that you’re now Tim’s home screen, your pretty tits out in the open as his cock is buried inside of you, Brian’s hand gripping the flesh of your hip. Why wouldn’t he want to see it all the time?

The same applies to them as their alters. Spitroasting is their absolute favorite, though Tim prefers it if you ride him while you slobber all over Brian instead of him having to use his energy to fuck you into oblivion.

They love double penetration as well, but once they tried to fit both of them in your pussy instead of one in your ass and you came so hard that you passed out. It’s brought out on special occasions after a l o t of prep.

really, overall. you have a boy for whatever mood you're in and you're literally never horny because the second you mention it someone is on top of you.

#proxies x reader #masky x reader #hoody x reader #ticci toby x reader #proxies #creepypasta x reader #poly!proxies x reader

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delicrieux · 3 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too.

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby.

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air.

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully.

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr.

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby?

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too.

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen.

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration.

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he��s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised.

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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls. The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly, “get my pretty name out of your mouth.”

There’s a pause full of tense silence.

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.”

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis.

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing.

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan.

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach.

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno.

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi.

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

dutifully yours. [01]

Attached to the could’ve been’s of a promised happily ever after with the Crown Prince disguised under a scheme for power and greed, you are torn between choosing your happiness — or abandoning it to fulfill your duty as the future Queen.

→ unedited bcos i’m brave lazy. implied patriarchy. angst in future chapters. pure romance and fluff for now. royalty au. eventual smut. prince naoya !! i love him sm i could cry. this fic will break me, okay. naoya is close to canon but with my twist if that makes sense. drama in future chapters. oh and listen to this while reading <3

→ massive shoutout to my besties for always hyping me and helping me uwu, i present this token of prince naoya being an ideal husband okay cry cry i love him sm im crying. anyways pls enjoy bcos i poured my heart out to this and bcos i want more people in the naoya fucker club :>

one | next (to be posted)

Ever since the day your mother taught you how to read, you’ve had your nose buried in a book. Losing yourself in different worlds, swooning over fictional princes, and fantasizing for a love story ripped out of fairytale itself with such burning, passionate romance – you’d been through it all, dreamt of it all. And yet, you struggled to stop yourself from tugging at your dress.

The tight corset hadn’t even been the main focus of your worries, and neither was the heavy rivière resting on your collarbones.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Beside you, your mother pursed her lips, fingers decorated with jewels stopping in their movements of fanning herself. The temperature hadn’t been particularly high inside the limousine that evening. You supposed it was the mere sight of you tugging and gulping audibly every now and then, gloved hands running over the hems of your collar.

You ducked your head down. “Sorry, Mother. I can’t help it.”

“Dear, your anxiety is written all over your face,” she sighed, turning your face to her as she cupped your cheeks. Smiling tenderly like a mother always did, your heart felt soothed even by the slightest bit. You wished she could keep holding you like this – like you were a fragile flower she was afraid of breaking; a fragile flower that needed more care handled than most. Tonight, however, you felt a hundred years older. Like you’d accidentally clicked on fast forward and got launched to the future. A future that seemed so unclear yet so...perfect. So right.

“How would the Prince fancy you if you’re sweating bullets like that? It’s not a good look for a marquess’ daughter.”

At the mention of the Crown Prince, your heart sank again. “My apologies, Mother. I’m just rather nervous. It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about here.”

“He is quite the looker, isn’t he?” she giggled behind her fan, “Strong and handsome, as well.”

“My ladies. You are not fantasizing over the Crown Prince in my presence, are you?”

Crossing her leg over the other, your mother leaned forwards, elbows on her knees as she winked at your father. The marquess had his torso half twisted from the passenger seat, glaring playfully at your mother’s unabashed features. “It is of no seriousness, My Lord. I’m simply easing your daughter’s nerves.”

Your father sighed in worry. “What’s got you so worked up, child? You are beautiful. The Prince would be blind to not notice you.”

Each fibre in your body screamed in desperation for your father to be right. Tonight was not just any other night – the entire Kingdom, including noblewomen, foreign royals, and unwed daughters from honourable families had been invited to the Zen’in Castle for one purpose only: to find his Crown Prince a suitable wife, one that would be fit to be the next Queen as well. As the daughter of the marquess, you’d naturally received the invitation. It felt just like yesterday when the mail arrived and you’d cheered so much in joy the chickens went flying out of their coops, your horses galloping and whinnying at surprise, and now you here – minutes away from the palace where you were soon to be deemed worthy or unworthy to be beside His Highness.

With a shaky smile, you dug your nails into your thighs. “Well, we’ve only met once, Father. I doubt the Prince would remember me.”

“Just smile, darling. You will do great.”

To no one’s surprise, the Zen’in Castle brimmed with people and esteemed guests. Men and women danced with one another as muted chatters and chuckles blended in with the grand royal orchestra, everyone dressed to the nines and making you feel completely out of place.

The moment you’d been welcomed by the knights and led to the palace doors, your dress began to feel tighter than usual, your ribs clenching uncomfortably from the pressure. Your hands had not stopped trembling either, not even when you hid it behind your back and nodded at the people passing by. There were governor-generals, dukes, earls, professors and royal advisors and even families of the royal family’s inner circle of knights. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Chatting amongst one another over the finest of wines or discussing conspiracies on where the Kingdom of Zen’in would be in the next sixty years of the future King’s reign, no one here seemed to be out of place.

Everyone except you.

A warm hand was suddenly placed on the small of your back, making you gasp. Your mother’s smile was nothing short of warm as she held you close to her one last time, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You didn’t even realize how much you shook until she clasped her hands with yours. “Calm down, dear,” she reminded, “You’ll be on your own now. This is where we leave you since we’re not supposed to mingle with potential princesses.”

“Mother!” Your eyes widened in embarrassment. Looking around frantically, you bit your lip in fear someone must’ve heard.

Of course, while it would be no surprise most guests – if not all – hoped that their daughter would be the Crown Prince’s chosen fiancée, it still felt wrong to boldly assume such when you could barely keep up with the events of tonight.

However, your mother merely laughed. “I am proud of you, dear. Never forget that. It doesn’t matter whether you are chosen or not. We’re only here for formality and respect to the King and Queen’s demands.”

“You say that as if the Crown Prince really would not bother with me.”

“We didn’t mean that,” your father cut in, a flute of champagne already nested between his calloused fingers. Ever since you arrived, he’d been snatched away by fellow earls and barons, disappearing into the crowd for a ‘hearty conversation over one’s lands.’ You knew better than that, though. That statement always translated to which leader got to have more chances to wine and dine with the King, to which your family was ridiculously reminded of that you’d been stationed to the most faraway land where even hearing news from the royal papers was but a privilege.

“Just be yourself, alright? And enjoy the party. It’s about time you met with girls your own age and made some friends.”

“I – Father, wait!”

A slender young woman slithered to your side out of nowhere, her golden brown eyes following the silhouettes of your parents. It wasn’t long before they completely disappeared. Left alone with the stunning woman that was – for some reason – dressed in a plain black curve hugging dress too modest for tonight’s appropriateness, you took three steps away in caution. “You must be from way up North,” she noted, her head to the tipped to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

God, was she beautiful. Long, thick eyelashes and short hair chopped in messy yet elegant curves, you struggled to hold her gaze. “Oh, yes, I come from the Terratian Borders. My family is stationed there under His Majesty’s orders.”

She hummed to herself. “The Terratian Borders are mostly forests and fields, no? The last time my family and I visited there, I came across the loveliest dandelions I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shame they died on the way back,” offering her hand – again, bare and empty with decorations yet still littered with faint scars and cuts – she beamed at you. “I’m Mai, by the way. Mai Zen’in.”

Zen’in?

Hands cupping your mouth, you bowed deep until your back ached. “Lady Mai!” you shut your eyes closed, unable to live with the shame. Mai Zen’in; one of the iconic twin pair from the extended Zen’in royal family, both a fashion icon and a legend for being a rumoured female knight. To have her in your presence was an honour. “My apologies for not recognizing you any sooner, Lady Mai!”

“Stand up, I’m not a royal,” she sniggered, “We’re just relatives of the actual monarch, but don’t let the family name fool you. The Crown Prince barely even acknowledges us being of the same blood.”

Albeit hesitant, you followed her gestures of making you stand up. You straightened your back and cleared your throat, fighting the urge to go haywire the moment his name was brought into the conversation. Not only would you be seeing Prince Naoya again in real life for the first time in years, but you’d also made acquaintances with his distant niece. However, his name was spoken with malice.

Frowning, you faced Lady Mai in all seriousness. “Prince Naoya? Why so?” Lady Mai looked at you like you’d grown two heads.

“He’s an ass, that’s why.”

“I-I don’t think he is,” you defended, “The Prince has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I didn’t know he was capable of kindness,” she muttered more so under her breath, low enough you were unsure whether you were supposed to hear it in the first place. Lady Mai then shook her head to herself before stealing a flute from a waiter passing by. Chucking it your way, her face turned dark and grim. “Take it as free advice: stay as far away from his as possible. The Crown Prince is nothing but good news.”

“Is it because he has lots of lovers?” you inquired with a small voice, “Uhm – well – It was an assumption. With a title and handsomeness like that, it would make sense everyone would want to be the Crown Prince’s lover.”

Lady Mai’s lip curled upwards. “Prince Naoya won’t bother with lovers. He is too occupied for that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Heard from whom?”

“The Royal Declaration from His Majesty himself,” you said, “Was it not the purpose of this ball? To find worthy candidates to be the Crown Prince’s betrothed? His coronation is coming soon.”

“Right. I forgot today was technically a bridal market,” she scratched the edge of her brow, falling silent for a moment. Her eyes scanned the lively crowd for a brief moment – watching with you as everyone laughed and danced to their heart’s content – the grand final event of the routine personal dance with the Crown Prince himself slowly approaching to reality. “You are joining in the festivities, are you not? Later, when he arrives, he shall meet you.”

“I am obligated to as a noble bachelorette, though I doubt His Highness would even look my way. There are far richer noblewomen here and even daughters of duke that would be perfect as his wife. ”

“You may have a point for that,” she hummed to herself, unaware that her agreement to the Crown Prince not paying attention to you left a sting both in your ego and heart. Not that it lasted long, for Lady Mai was already tugged on the arm by another equally fiercely beautiful woman – her older twin, Maki Zen’in. Soon to be governon-general of the Kingdom.

Lady Mai smiled in apology. “I need to go now since I’m not a part of this event. But hey, if ever I come around to visit the Borders again, perhaps you could entertain me?”

“I would be honoured to, Lady Mai.”

“You are sweet and innocent,” it was her sister who spoke this time, glasses perched high on her nose that concealed the wariness of her gaze. “I hope the Crown Prince never gets to your routine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s nothing; she was talking to herself. Maki does that a lot,” Lady Mai’s forced chuckles were barely heard from the music. “You enjoy the party now. Don’t drink too much lest you want to embarrass yourself in everyone’s eyes and be talk of the Kingdom. Prince Naoya would hate it if you took the attention away from him.”

“Oh, uhm...”

“It’s a joke, Lady Y/N. Relax.”

You bowed once more. “My apologies.”

“The dance is about to begin,” Maki tapped on your shoulder, making you look up right where her eyes zeroed in. And exactly in the middle of the grandiose hall, under the sparkling golden chandeliers where he made all the gold in the world look incomparable next to him, the Crown Prince stood in his fully glory. Blond hair with the ends stained of midnight gelled back to reveal his forehead, the Crown Prince’s beauty never failed to shine. Whether it be in the papers, in the tabloids, in the billboards that you passed on the way to the city, or from way back when you met him for the first time as a naive, innocent teen – Crown Prince Naoya came straight out of a magazine cover.

In the back of your head, you could hear either of the twins murmuring good luck. Maybe both of them had said it – you had no idea. All of your attention, all the sensibility and coherence of your state had been switched the next instant, as if your heart and soul was born for the sole purpose of being bewitched by your Crown Prince.

And as if feeling someone’s gaze on him, the Crown Prince’s eyes trailed over the crowd. Almost boredly, his sharp eyes bounced from one giggling woman to another, the ends of his lips smirking upwards for just the tiniest bit. It must’ve stroked his ego. Until his eyes connected with yours. The Crown Prince’s eyebrows knitted together. You had no idea how you looked in that moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. Because the Crown Prince was looking at you, and you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes along with your heart pulsing at the tip of your tongue.

“Let us begin,” his lips moved from the distance, “Play the music. I shall dance with my bride.”

The air shifted in a split second. Murmurs were thrown over the room, women and men alike turning pale. Even the orchestra was stunned from the Crown Prince’s entrance – and it hadn’t even been dramatic to his standards – yet the whole castle fell mum from just a few of his words. A few seconds later, the crowd recomposed itself, and the strings began to dance along with its bows.

You are pushed into the crowd. Nearly colliding into the arms of another, you quietly thank the masked man who was to be your first partner of the night.

All the men joining the dance floor dressed with the intention of making the Crown Prince shine. Prince Naoya stood out from the throng of white as per the colour code, his blood red uniform as both Prince with the golden crest of the military leader pinned to his right breast. The other men meant to be filler partners until all the potential brides got to their designated three minutes with the Prince were all dressed in black, faces covered behind a plain black mask. None were allowed to talk. None were allowed to utter even a word, and so your partner pursed his lips in displeasure at your apology.

Whatever. You just had to wait a few more rounds before the song finished and transitioned into a new one; the song where you’d been informed would be your time alone with the Prince.

You’d been so lost in your head you barely breathed the entire dance. From partner to partner, you blanked. Your heart drummed so wildly in its cage it begged to come out, and strings of apologies were let out each time your masked partners grimaced for a brief second when their hands came in contact with your sweaty ones. Around you, all the lovely women smiled and danced graciously, mouths moving in unreadable conversations shared with the Crown Prince. Not once did you look at the six partners you’ve danced with. Not once did you worry about tripping on your own feet. Not once did you care that some of the masked men held you a little too roughly for your comfort. Your entire reason for existing in that moment was to witness the Crown Prince himself, mirroring his frown that got deeper and deeper with each woman retreating to the sea of people he’d rejected.

Not once did you even think about being one of them – the girls who’ve ducked their heads down as their parents comforted them over not being the chosen one, of bringing ‘dishonour’ to their families that the mighty Crown Prince had deemed them unworthy. Tears streamed down their faces until black ink followed afterwards, lips trembling from silent sobs.

Despite their broken prides – although there was that minority who simply sighed in relief after returning to their own families – no one would dare interrupt the Crown Prince’s dances.

All of these thoughts crossed your mind too late and at the exact time your masked partner pulled away from you, body half bent in a bow with his arm outstretched to the side. Following where he was gesturing at, your eyes met the Crown Prince’s tall and lean stature, a few blond fringes now fallen from his movements.

Even though a thin layer of sweat shone from his face, Prince Naoya remained ethereal.

And like a snake charmed by the musician’s seductive tone, your feet moved on its own. Fingers stretching until it met with the Crown Prince’s large and warm ones, you were now in front of him. With him. Holding him, touching him, meeting him eye for eye and realizing – gold. His eyes burned a deep shade of gold, elegantly rich and heartbreakingly stunning your heart ached.

Before you knew it, your hands began to tremble, feeling as if your body had been corded into a corset three sizes smaller. You could not breathe, and the Crown Prince took notice.

“You are stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” Good Saint. If only possible, you would’ve closed your eyes and basked in the deep warmth of his voice. It reverberated from deep within, breathed out with an air of natural authority and profound confidence it made your knees weak. As if sensing his effect on you (though for the wrong reasons, it seemed), Prince Naoya hummed to himself. “This routine shall last for a few minutes before I can let you go, I’m afraid.”

You instantly realized the implications of your silence. “N-not at all, Your Highness! I am honoured to be dancing with you.”

“There is no honour in a choreographed dance. Everyone will dance with me. It’s nothing special.”

Your heart fell. Prince Naoya not only sounded dejected, but detached as well. As if he found no pleasure or specialty in this event, at a time where he had every opportunity to meet his lover, and that this ball was merely a task to be checked off in his already long list of responsibilities. It wasn’t disappointment, per se, but rather melancholy that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because Prince Naoya held little to no regards for something you treasured, but because he sounded terribly alone. Like he was simply waiting for it to end out of discomfort.

“It’s special to me, Your Highness,” you blurted out faster than you could stop yourself. For a moment, you feared you may have offended him, but the Crown Prince only laughs.

And when he did – saint, when he laughed – his eyes crinkled into half moons, pearly whites flashing against the bright lights and his whole chest shook with amusement.

You’d never seen him smile this way before.

Prince Naoya’s laughter didn’t cease. Around you, your gut instincts told that people were now beginning to look; the Crown Prince’s deep rumbles of laughter sounded exquisitely like music as well, after all. “ Is it special to you because you are now dancing and within the Crown Prince’s proximity? As much as I presume how exhilarating it might be for those who mostly see me in the papers and in the tabloids, I assure you, dancing with your Prince is not an honour. Especially when you are all sent the invitations based on your status and not your worthy traits.”

“It’s special to me,” you mumbled, growing shy all of a sudden when the Crown Prince nodded at you to continue. “Because...because it reminds me of the first time we met.”

The Crown Prince hummed in amusement.

“We have met before?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’m from the Terratian Borders – my father is a loyal servant of His Majesty. You visited the borders when you were eighteen and I was sixteen. Do you remember it, Your Highness? You stormed in my private library.”

Indeed, the young barely-out-of-his-teens Crown Prince barged into your home’s library years ago. You were not previously informed he and his parents would be visiting since they arrived wordlessly, so you were stuck in your chambers as usual, killing time if not for sleeping and tending to the animals. Perched on a ladder, you attempted to reach for a book on the upper shelf when your foot slipped beneath you. At the age of sixteen, you were dramatic enough to say your life flashed before your eyes. You would’ve screamed then had strong arms not appeared out of nowhere, the Crown Prince staring at you with wide, golden eyes as they were now, his breathy rasped as he asked, are you okay, my lady?

The mere recollection of that fateful memory had your cheeks warming in delight. “You were so charming and heroic back then. Even when I had no idea you were a royal, I would have still believed you to be princely,” you said rather absentmindedly, blinking once then twice at your words. “Of course, it’s understandable if you do not remember, Your Highness!”

“My apologies. I do not remember, though Terratia is a wonderful place. Such a shame I was not informed beforehand they had a lovely daughter.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you cheered back, cheeks and jaw beginning to ache from how wide you were smiling. But could anyone blame you? You felt absolutely silly that you were a breath away from passing out minutes ago, and now here you were, dancing with the Crown Prince and sharing memories with him like it was a daily occurrence. The words it’s true love when you feel at peace with them suddenly rang back at your head from that latest romance novel you read, and you turned away, hoping the Crown Prince would not read your thoughts to your face. However, Prince Naoya’s lips pursed into a thin line, all traces of humour now disappeared. “I’m sorry – should I not have laughed?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he mused with his jaw locked tight, “I just haven’t seen anyone react that way before.”

“Like what?”

“Like my words meant the entire universe to them. I may dare even say you look terribly in love, though I cannot blame you on that one, can I?”

Prince Naoya shook his head the minute the words left his mouth. Forcing himself to believe it couldn’t be real, perhaps, you truly did not know anymore. Your only plan for tonight was to see the Crown Prince and get to live out your dream of seeing him once more even for just a brief moment before you travelled back home while he married another, and yet – “Your Highness, I’m in love with you. I have always been since the day we met.”

You could no longer stop the words. The voice at the back of your head begged you to shut up and not cause a scene, that your time had passed up and people were staring, yet you remained in his arms no matter how much you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Your Highness. I did not come here to attempt to steal your heart and be your wife, though I will admit I have dreamt of meeting you again for so many moons. I...I only want to tell you this. That I love you and even though it was a brief moment, I think the love I’ve always read about felt real and possible for the first time in my life,” chuckling nervously, you gather to courage to face him, adoration shining for the Crown Prince stood shock still before you, however stunned he may be. “I love you, Your Highness. I love you. And to whoever lucky woman you choose to be your betrothed, I hope she takes care of you and showers you with all the affection you are deserving of. You would make a great King. So God help his Crown Prince, and may you lead us all into a better world.”

Prince Naoya did not budge a muscle. His eyes remained hard on yours, breath warm as his nostrils fumed. With each passing second that he did not speak, you grew restless and tugged your arm away from his hold with a disgraceful smile.

You’d truly crossed your line. The repercussions to be faced for this impoliteness would destroy your family’s honour. You had to leave. “Your Highness? The song has changed. It’s time to let go—”

The Crown Prince inched close enough until his hair tickled your cheeks, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you close, close enough that your lower bodies touched. Skin ablaze with heat, you dared not move an inch. “Do you mean it?” he demanded lowly, his fingers ghosting over your wrist to hold you in place. “Do you truly love me? Not for what I have, not for who I was born to be, but me as a person itself?”

Closing your eyes to shudder in a deep breath, you exhaled. “Of course, Your Highness. Even if you were not born as a Prince, I’m sure I would’ve still loved you in a different universe.”

“But I do not know you.”

“We don’t have to know each other, Your Highness, and we never will. Once you let me go, I’ll return to the shadows where I belong, and I will continue supporting you until the day of your coronation.”

“And if I refuse to let you go?” he clicked his tongue, “What will you do then?”

The Crown Prince’s spicy perfume must be an aphrodisiac or hypnotizer of sorts. Everything he did messed with your mind that it was too late – the music had stopped and people were no longer drinking or chatting. Everyone’s eyes were on you and the Crown Prince. You could only imagine how controversial this position must be; with his lips trailing dangerously close to that sensitive spot in your neck where you nearly moaned. You really needed to leave.

“P-people are looking, Your Highness. You do not want this affair with someone you won’t choose—”

“Who said I won’t choose you?” Finally, he pulled away. But Prince Naoya never once tore his gaze away from yours, nor did he allow you to look at anyone but him as he caresses your jaw so light and feathery you wondered if he was truly there.“Who said I haven’t laid my eyes on you the moment you walked in here? This ball is for naught because of you, Lady Y/N. I’ve already made my choice, and you helped me confirm it as soon as you danced with me.”

“Your Highness...”

“Look at me,” he ordered, your eyes flitting from his pinkish lips to his sharp nose and then to his fox-like gaze. Only this time, Prince Naoya was no longer harsh. “Don’t be scared.”

“But they’re looking.”

“You are with me, of course they’ll look,” he teased, “They wish to be you right now. But ignore them and dance one more time with me.”

It wasn’t like you had a choice, but did it matter? One nod from him was all it took before the orchestra fumbled back to their spots and a new song played, Ode of Moonlight Lovers, and the Crown Prince was guiding you back to where he had originally danced with you.

From the corners of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your parents with their mouths gaped open; your father looking like he was on the verge of passing out. However, you felt nothing but joy, nothing but the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he danced and twirled you in his arms. When the music stopped and you were both panting for air with silly smiles on your face, it dawned on you that you were with the Prince. No, rather, it was only you and the Prince alone. Even in the sea of people whose faces began to blur, he prevailed crystal clear.

You could recognize him anywhere, find him everywhere.

Prince Naoya stepped impossibly closer until your chests touched, hearts beating as one. Cupping your jaw, he was near enough that he swallowed all your shaky breaths with a small, teasing smile like you both shared a secret the entire world could not know.

“Do I still make you nervous?”

Laughing, you nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“It’s beloved now,” he corrected, face inching closer and closer to a point you could count the number of his lower lashes. “And what do lovers do to seal their union?”

“M-Marriage?”

“Close, but this is much better.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would have a love story ripped out straight from a fairytale, you would’ve laughed at their faces. You were no Cinderella, nor were you a goddess of beauty that could’ve possibly caught the Crown Prince’s eye. Yet, his soft lips were on yours, kissing you with as much passion you could only dream of that you cried.

Strong hands guiding the back of your waist, Prince Naoya dipped you lower to the ground – the grand of finish of his dance. He had chosen his bride.

The crowd cheered and rejoiced all around you, making you smile into the kiss. Fisting his collar to bring him closer to yours, your mouth burst into metaphorical fireworks as soon as his tongue mingled with yours for an experimental taste. He was bitter yet sweet; expensive wine resting on his tongue, yet a delicate vanilla sat heavily on his soft lips that molded with yours. It was a taste you could spend forever being addicted on. And you were crying, crying so much your chest ached and the Prince’s cheeks grew damp from yours. You’d dreamt of this for so long, too long now.

Prince Naoya slowly pulled you away, his thumb wiping the tears away from the pads of your cheeks with tenderness in his touch. However, the Prince was not satisfied. The crowd whooped as he leant down to kiss your forehead. “You are mine now, my princess.”

Looping his hands with yours, the Crown Prince led you out of the castle. The crowd parted naturally to make way for the new couple, and you were left staring at his broad back and the tuft of blond hair where you’d soon find out how soft it would be. Sending one last glance to your crying parents, you waved goodbye. You had no idea where the Crown Prince would take you but you were already bunching your dress up, heart completely filled with trust you did not question it. What mattered tonight and for the rest of your life was that it felt right. That it was him – your beloved Prince Naoya Zen’in and soon to be husband – that you’d follow through the moon and back.

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jiminzfilter · 3 years

Text

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

#taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung au #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung #taehyung ff #fluff #implied smut #model taehyung #bts fics #taehyung oneshot #taehyung one shots #taehyung one-shots #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung au #it's 2am what am I doing #slow dancing in the night

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Epilogue

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

At this point, what can be considered normal?

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

It was a nice late morning. The sun was shining but thankfully, it was blocked out by the dark curtains. It was nice and quiet, only the sounds of your breathing as you slept peacefully. There were no alarm clocks or phone calls-

*BANG BANG BANG*

“Yoongi hyung! You’ve been holding onto her for hours! She needs to come out!” Taehyung was banging on the door. You could hear Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok and Jin there too.

“Yeah! She needs to work!”

That was a lie. After coming back from performing Geumjae’s surgery yesterday, the boys had insisted you take a break since it was a long, gruelling surgery. But then again, the others would do anything to get the pale man to open the door for them.

“Just keep quiet and they’ll go away soon.” Yoongi grumbled, holding you tighter, totally unaffected by the screams.

“No, we won’t!” Seems that they heard him.

“Come on, I have to get up.” You patted his back. He tucked you into the crook on his neck like a mother holding her child. His cheek pressed against the top of your head as he huffed.

“You don’t have to get up. It’s your day off.” He murmured. You giggled, arm slinging around him in defeat.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed your head.

“That’s it! I don’t hear movement! Either get the keys or Jungkook, kick the door down.” You heard more commotion outside. Everyday was a chaotic day in the Bangtan household.

“Ugh, hang on a sec.” Yoongi got out of bed, ready to give them an earful. But the moment he opened the door, he was mowed down by everyone else as they approached you, who was on the bed. You welcomed them with open arms and they piled on, engulfing you in big hugs and smiles. Yoongi stood there, glaring at you.

“Yah! Get off!” Yoongi shouted.

“Okay.” They willingly slipped off the bed, which was surprising. Until Jungkook scooped you up into his arms, running out of the room. He cackled evilly while you yelped, arms tightened around his neck in fear.

“I’m hom- What...” Namjoon stopped in the doorway when he saw what was going on. You have him a pleading look.

“Kook, let her down now.” Namjoon frowned. As much as you liked to play around and have fun with the boys, sometimes, all you would like is a peaceful morning.

“With all due respect, hyung. If you try to take my baby away from me, I will actually fight you.” Jungkook said.

“Rich coming from the guy who took her from me. Fight him, Joon.” Yoongi snorted from the top of the stairs. Knowing that the boys will actually fight each other (which you do tell them is dumb), you pinched Jungkook’s pressure point, temporarily immobilising him.

“Ah!” He yelped as he let go of you. You fell onto the couch, standing up and straightening Yoongi’s your hoodie. With a sigh, you headed over to Namjoon to properly greet him after his early morning meeting.

“Welcome home.” You grinned.

“Thank you, my love.” He wrapped an arm around you, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re bleeding!” Your eyes widened when you saw his knuckles. It looked exactly like Jungkook’s knuckles. Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. Grabbing his wrist, you brought him to the office.

“Love, I can patch it up. They’re small wounds. You’re supposed to be resting.” Namjoon told you. You shook your head while washing your hands.

“Small wounds that can get infected, Joon. And I don’t need to rest much more, I knocked out like a light with Yoongi last night.” You chuckled, grabbing your first aid kit. You pulled your stool to sit in front of him and began to clean his wounds. The first thing you did was remove some of the dried blood that crusted on the side.

“It’s gonna sting.” You said before putting the antiseptic. He winced slightly, his nose scrunching up.

“You guys never get used to it.” You laughed. Once the wounds were cleaned, you bandaged his knuckles. You placed his hand in yours, inspecting his hand for more injuries.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break anything again.” You lectured.

“Because I have a doctor that takes good care of me.” Namjoon grinned. You shook your head, kissing his cheek.

“Please, I already told you not to overwork them considering they just got better after you broke them. And you always scold the younger ones for not listening to me when you’re no better.” You teased. Namjoon laughed.

“If I have you to take care of me, I will get injured more.” Namjoon hugged your waist. You flicked his forehead.

“I dare you, Kim Namjoon.” You frowned.

“Alright, alright. Namjoon looks good and patched up! Now it’s my turn, I want my morning kiss. Come here.” Jin yanked you away by your waist, dipping you down and showering you in kisses. You burst out laughing, grabbing onto his shirt so you won’t fall back.

“I’m going to get a coffee.” You shuffled away to the kitchen. The maids prepared your usual iced coffee.

“Thank you.” You yawned and sipped before going back out. You sat on the couch and Jimin sat down, bringing your legs up to drape over his lap. When your phone buzzed, you took it out of your pocket to check.

“Ah, I have to go check on Geumjae. He just woke up.” You announced.

“But it’s your day off.” Hoseok said.

“I know. But it’s the day after his surgery so I have to make sure he’s feeling alright and not having any complications, considering it was a major surgery.” You grunted as you stood up. You quickly finished your drink and went to change. Yoongi would be accompanying you, of course, to visit his brother. The other boys decided to tag along... just to not be left out.

“You guys go grab a bite. I shouldn’t be too long.” You sent them a kiss as they dropped you off at the staff entrance.

“We love you.” They said.

“I love you all too.” You smiled and waved as they drove to the public parking. Slipping on your coat, you went to Geumjae’s private ward. He was awake, sitting up slightly and watching the television that was provided.

“Hey, got here as soon as I heard you were awake. Yoongi should be coming up soon, he’s parking the car.” You greeted.

“Hey... Thanks again... for everything. Not just the surgery... but for making me realise my mistake. I’m so glad Yoongi and I are close again. It’s really all thanks to you.” He smiled weakly.

“Don’t mention it. How are you feeling?”

“A little light headed. And sore.” His hand lightly touched his clothed chest where the surgery sutures were underneath.

“That’s normal, considering the effects of the anaesthesia is wearing off. I’ll still put you on IV painkillers for the next day or two, until the wound starts to heal more and cause less pain. Can I check your wound?” You asked. He nodded and you unbuttoned his shirt to check the sutures.

“Looks good. I’ll replace the gauze.” You removed the protecting gauze above the sutures and replaced it with a clean one.

“Good news is we managed to remove the affected tissue. You still have to be on your medications for the next week? We will do a follow up biopsy after just to make sure we have completely eradicated the cancer.” You instructed.

“Okay. Thank you.” He nodded as you buttoned his shirt up.

“Hyung.” Yoongi came in.

“Yoongi.” His brother greeted as you straightened up. You let Yoongi get closer to his brother as you removed your gloves and washed your hands. As they chatted, you checked his charts.

“Take your time, Yoongs. I’ll go find the others.” You smiled. Yoongi nodded, reaching to peck your temple before sitting down to speak with Geumjae. You gave them privacy, exiting the room. You went to the nurse’s station to update Geumjae’s file. Although the surgery was tiring, you learnt a lot and was glad for the experience.

“Mr Min in Room 32 should be in IV fluids until he’s no longer nauseated by the anaesthesia. Then move him to soft foods.” You told the nurse, who nodded her head and keyed in the instructions to the patient’s system profile.

“Thank you!” You smiled and handed the file to her. You went to the vending machine to get a can coffee.

“Hi, are you a doctor here?” Someone appeared.

“Kinda?” You chuckled, pressing the button for your cold coffee. You weren’t gonna tell some stranger the long story about you being a private doctor to singular patient here.

“I’m a new resident. Nice to meet you.” He held his hand out. You gave a small smile, shaking his outstretched hand.

“You’re Dr (y/l/n)’s daughter right?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“I look forward to working with you, sunbae. I know you did the recent lung cancer tissue extraction surgery, it was very knowledgeable and I learnt a lot.” He bowed.

“Thanks... But I don’t actually work here as a mentor so you won’t see me around anymore. The other doctors are just as good, I’m sure of it. Everyone is trained and of professional calibre, you will learn a lot from them as well.” You were starting to get a little awkward by his overly enthusiastic disposition.

“Baby, there you are.” A voice appeared and you saw your 6 other boyfriends there. They did not look pleased.

“You took so long so we came to find you. We had to stop Kook from ordering everything on the cafeteria menu.” Jimin laughed. You shook your head at the maknae, who pouted.

“I’m still a growing boy.” He argued. He wasn’t, actually.

“Who’s this?” Jin raised an eyebrow.

“Uh... He’s a new hoobae that works here.” You explained, realising that you hadn’t even learnt about this resident’s name. But it didn’t matter, you probably weren’t going to see him after this anyway.

“Come, jagi. We should go.” Taehyung grasped your hand, glaring at the now scared boy. You shook your head, knowing exactly what they were doing. Even before you got together, the boys always said you were their partner just to keep other girls away. Vice versa, they branded themselves as your boyfriends to scare other guys away.

“I-I have to go. Bye.” He bowed and scurried off.

“You guys are horrible, you know that?” You folded your arms with a shake of your head. Hoseok grinned, leaning to peck your cheek. You reached over to straighten his blazer.

“Oh, you’re still here.” Yoongi blinked, seeing the group of you there. You nodded your head.

“Are you hungry? We bought you guys sandwiches.” Namjoon lifted the bags up. Instead of sitting there to eat, you ate in the van as Hoseok drove.

“Here.” You gave some to Jungkook.

“But you hardly ate any of it yourself.” He told you. You just shrugged, not really having the appetite to eat anything. Jungkook leaned forward to eat the last bit of the sandwich out of your hand. You would much rather have your coffee instead of the sandwich.

“Shall we have barbecue tonight?” You asked the boys.

“It’s been a while.” They nodded their heads. Hoseok detoured and went to the big supermarket. You split into 3 teams, Jin and Yoongi buying the meat, Hoseok and Namjoon drinks and you with the maknaes for everything else.

“Buy a lot of meat, hyung!” Jungkook shouted to Jin as he placed his hands on your shoulders to push you to the other aisle.

“Hyung wanted coarse salt for his shrimp. This or this?” Jimin held up both the boxes. You looked at both of them before pointing to one. He happily placed it into the cart.

“Shall I make japchae?” You asked them.

“Yes!” Taehyung cheered. You sent a message to Yoongi to pick up some beef for japchae from the counter for you. After that, you picked up some vegetables that would go into japchae. Jimin trailed after you obediently while Taehyung and Jungkook disappeared. Jungkook had reappeared with loads of bags of snacks in his arms.

“Koo! That’s too much.” You chuckled at your now almost full cart, half filled with bags of chips.

“But we need more snacks for our movie nights! And besides, Jin hyung and Taehyung hyung keep eating my snacks. This is so they won’t take mine.” Jungkook pouted.

“Banana milk!” He quickly got distracted by the dairy section and ran off.

“You know, I can see why people don’t believe our line of jobs sometimes and how Jungkook is supposedly our best fighter.” Jimin scoffed.

“Well, take his banana milk and you’ll truly see how well he can fight.” You giggled as you placed some carrots and bell peppers into the cart. Taehyung came with 3 different ssamjang containers.

“Tae, why are you getting so much? We won’t be able to finish them all in one night.” Jimin scolded.

“But these are brands I haven’t tried before! So I wanna see which is the best. Then I’ll know to buy it next time!” Taehyung argued with his best friend. You shook your head and continued, Taehyung loved ssamjang. There’s no arguing in that. Jungkook came back with banana milk and cheese.

“You want cheese rice?” You asked.

“How did you know?!”

“Koo, even if I’ve only been your girlfriend for a short while, I have lived with you longer. You practically breathe cheese rice.” You scoffed, offended. Jungkook bunny grinned, wrapping his arms around you.

“Of course, you know me well.” He peppered kissed all over your cheek. When you were done, you went to meet the others.

“Boys, I may not be specialising in hepatology but that amount of alcohol is definitely not good for you.” You raised an eyebrow at the amount of alcohol that was stacked in Namjoon and Hoseok’s cart. Totally not in a helping way, Taehyung even got a few bottles of his and Seokjin’s favourite plum wine to add in. You laughed.

“We needed to stock the bar anyway. We promise not to drink so much.” Hoseok winked.

“Yoongi hyung and Seokjin hyung are ready. They’ll meet us at the cashier.” Namjoon informed. You nodded your head and you all went to pay.

“A big party?” He joked as he scanned.

“You could say that.” You smiled, waiting to pay with the card that the boys had given you for ‘house’ items like their groceries and meals. But honestly, they just wanted an excuse to give you a card to spend on yourself.

“You’re pretty.” He complimented.

“Oh... Thanks.” You blushed. A sudden clear of the throat made you jump slightly. You turned to see Namjoon and Yoongi with stern looks on their faces.

“Are you done yet, baby girl?” Yoongi emphasised on the pet name, which he never really uses at all. You blinked, still in slight shock. The cashier looked terrified suddenly, quickening his pace to finish scanning all your items. Namjoon wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Love, later let the others load the van alright? Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” Namjoon smiled sweetly at you.

“O...kay?”

“Uh, payment please?” He squeaked. Before you could hand the card over, Yoongi plucked it out of your hand and handed it for him to swipe. He gave it back with two hands and a deep bow.

“Let’s go.” Yoongi held your hand and led you away. The boys loaded the car and you were ready to head home. Suddenly, their phones all rang at the same time. Namjoon took his phone out to check the notification. It was quiet for a while.

“Everything okay?” You blinked.

“Yeah... But looks like we’ll have to return to work for a while.” Namjoon sighed. You nodded your head.

“We’ll drop you home. It’ll be safer.” Jin told you. Again, you nodded. You knew how these business meetings could go from bad to worse in only a couple of seconds. Hoseok pulled up to the house and you jumped out.

“Stay safe, boys.” You told the 7. They sent you in with hugs and kisses, waiting for you to disappear into the house with the maids before Taehyung pulled the butler closer to whisper something into his ear. The butler nodded his head, bowing deeply. He closed the door for the van, standing on the porch until the van disappeared.

“Agashi, I was told that there will be barbecue tonight? Shall I prepare the ingredients?” The butler smiled as the other staff brought the groceries in.

“I wanna help cook! Let me change first.” You smiled and went upstairs to the room. You changed out of your hospital clothes and into more comfortable clothes, aka Jimin’s lounge pants and Hoseok’s hoodie.

“Thanks for bringing this all in guys!” You said to them as you saw them clearing all the bags of shopping and keeping everything in its place. You really bought a lot.

“What do you want to make?” The maid asked.

“Taehyung likes marinated kimchi. And Jungkook was saying he wanted cheese rice to go with the meat. I also bought japchae ingredients.” You said.

“Alright.”

“You guys can take a break. Don’t worry, I would like to think I’m better in the kitchen than Namjoon is.” You joked and they all laughed, loving your attitude. The mansion’s staff loved working with you.

“We’ll help where we can.” The cook took the ingredients out for you, laying them out neatly. You started with the marinated kimchi, which was frying kimchi with garlic, spam and minced meat. While the rest of the staff attended to the things in the mansion, the cook stayed by your side in case you needed help.

“I think a bigger dice is okay.” He demonstrated.

“You can put it here to cool. Then I’ll close the container later.” He gave you the plastic container. You scraped the contents from the pan to the container.

“Are there some side dishes that go well with the barbecue? That the boys will like.” You asked him. He went to the fridge to look through what was inside to make side dishes.

“We have a few hours so we can do some pickled radish, spicy cucumbers, the fried anchovies that master Seokjin likes?” He suggested.

“Sounds exciting!” You clapped your hands.

The next few hours were spent cooking and preparing various meals to go with the barbecue for the night. You learnt a lot from the cook and your energy was mostly fuelled with iced coffee (of course). You were just happy to prepare so much food for your boys now that you knew what their tastes were like. There was even time to make grapefruit syrup for Taehyung’s sodas.

“I’ll help prep the shrimp too.” You rolled your sleeves up to prepare for Yoongi’s salt baked shrimp on the grill.

“Ah, agashi. Let me. Your hands may smell. After all, you’ve been cooking the whole day, why don’t you take a break? I insist.” The cook shook his head.

“Oh, alright. I’m only giving in because I need to make Koo’s cheese rice later.” You giggled. The cook nodded and you grabbed a snack before leaving the kitchen. You helped the staff set up the barbecue outside.

“Let me help.” You arranged the chairs.

“It’s okay, agashi. Please rest.” The maids shook their heads. Going to retrieve Kookie, you sat under the gazebo with a book.

“Kookie ah. Don’t do that.” You stroked his head as he began to nibble the corner of your book again. Looks like even without the boys here, you still wouldn’t be able to read in peace.

“Where are they?” You checked your phone, there were no calls or messages from any of the boys. As the sun set, you were seated in your designated seat, which was in between Jungkook and Hoseok. You checked your phone to see the time, it was getting late.

You perked up when you heard the door to the backyard open and footsteps. However, when you turned your head, the smile dropped from your face.

Ko-fi link

Series Masterlist

[If you are reading this, thank you for making it to the end. For now. I’ll see you in the sequel ‘Everything Between Us’]

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731 notes · View notes

becomingbts · 3 years

Text

Time heals (sometimes) - 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights and the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

Ask or comment to be tagged!

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Warnings: The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: So hello everyone, welcome to Time Heals (sometimes). Thank you so, so much for the warm welcoming, it has been my first time getting so many asks, I was honestly overjoyed. I still don’t really know what to call this part; is it a teaser? A note? A full chapter? I believe we’ll get some snapshot of memories like this one throughout the series because there is going to be a lot to unpack on both sides. I think it will be a chapter nevertheless because I have to establish some kind of order as to which parts should be read first, and I think this one is extremely important.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

Profiles #2 - here - part 2

Her scream pierced through the air while cries broke in the frenzied arena while a single blond-haired man froze, emptily staring at the stage. It felt like his senses heightened; his skin was shuddering, his eyes were frantically searching for one specific figure while his voice was lost in his throat. The screams resonating in the stadium would have been too loud for his voice to be heard anyway.

Jimin knew he shouldn’t be there.

Namjoon had told them more than once that none of them should try to go to one of (Y/N)’s events. It could be dangerous and they could be overwhelmed; anything could happen to them and they would still remain a nobody who fainted in the howling crowd. Would they want to take this risk? No.

So, Jimin would have had to admit that going to her very first concert in Seoul since the pandemic sounded like a very, very, very bad idea. And to be honest, it still didn’t seem to be a bright idea now that he was actually there.

But he still went because he needed to see her for himself; to see how she was. He had so many things he dreamed about asking her. Are you okay? Are you sleeping well? Did you eat before coming to the arena? Are you nervous? Do you... remember me?

Maybe he was torturing himself. He kept on watching her lives, following her on all social media, always made sure to leave a sweet comment, and never miss any of her new updates... Maybe he even had a folder of pictures of her on his phone but he’d never admit it to any of his mates. Taehyung would probably take his phone away from him and delete everything and Jimin couldn’t let that happen.

He felt like it was cheating. Don’t take him wrong though. When he thought that, he was not really thinking about the boys. They did collectively agree not to follow her activities as an artist but it was getting harder and harder with how popular she got anyway. Moon was everywhere. In commercials, on the radio, her songs were on the TV… Even if she was known for refusing most of the promotional contracts that were offered to her, her image was still constantly in the media despite her avoidance of it. Ironic, but the media were trying their best to find anything about her, be it positive or negative. One day she was seen on her bike, the next, she was in a coffee shop, and it kept on going on, overstepping on her privacy as if it was just a meaningless word.

The lockdown had admittedly played a major part in Jimin’s obsession. Being in their apartment meant quickly running out of activities, and his job as a dance teacher was not really filling his free time (a lot of his classes were also canceled). It was also during that time that (Y/N) truly blew up as an independent artist. Advertisement on YouTube started being around her channel and her music, the recommendations he kept on seeing were about also her… Jimin’s resolve honestly broke easily. It was hard not to be curious about his lost soulmate even though he didn’t feel like he had the right to be hurting.

Anyway, to come back to his main point, if Jimin felt like he was cheating; it was mostly for her. After all, (Y/N) had no means of letting the curiosity get the best of her, to know what they were doing; to simply see or contact them. He had, at first, not really thought about that. Watching her content seemed a very innocent thing to do in his opinion; billions of people were watching her content, why should he prevent himself from doing so? Yet, Jimin could still remember one of her live she did soon after that interview she had given on this damned radio show where she had revealed who her title track ‘TIME’ was about… She had gone live the next day-Jimin had jumped on his phone because of the notification-and one fan had asked her what would she do if she knew that her ‘ex-soulmates’ (and those words left a very sour taste in Jimin’s mind) were watching her. The question had silenced a previously restless Jimin, replacing his initial excitation with dread while a lump formed itself in his throat. He had not even noticed it; he was so focused on her live and her upcoming answer that Jimin had completely missed the sound of a glass breaking in the apartment. Jimin had been home alone, so even if had indeed heard it, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to check what had happened, thinking that the wind knocked it over or something. Jimin had been so absorbed by what he had been watching that he even got surprised a few hours later when Seokjin came home and yelled at him for breaking something when he had been clearly innocent, engrossed in (Y/N)’s live (not that he could tell his soulmates about that part, but yeah). (Y/N)’s live would always be more important than some random glass breaking again in their apartment. Every object was doomed with Namjoon living here anyway.

On her side of the screen though, (Y/N) had seemed taken aback as she had read the question and had gritted her teeth gently. She had seemed to be pondering about her answer even though a lot of people in her chat were telling her to forget about the question if it made her uncomfortable (a lot were even scolding the person who asked). Yet, sighing softly, she had looked up at the screen:

“I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from asking questions on this topic. It’s not taboo but I’d rather not remember everything that comes with it. However, to answer this-hopefully-last question about it, I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. It would only be fair after all. I’ve been denied access to their lives six years ago, why would they get a free pass into mine now?” She had not smiled nor had she seemed hurt by her own comment, yet Jimin’s heart had shattered in pieces, unable to press the cancel button.

Her voice had slowly faded into background noise while her words had been stuck in his head.

I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content.

How could Jimin ever do that? He realized that he truly should. Namjoon would even agree with you, as ironic as it sounded for Jimin. Namjoon had been one of the most adamant ones about rejecting your bond, after all. Jimin was shaking with bitterness while ‘Moon’ continued her stream peacefully with music. Jimin could only try to gulp his anger down as he remembered her crumbling features on that fateful day.

“You’re not our soulmates. This name on our arms means nothing to us. You are nothing to us if not a hindrance. Leave us alone.”

If Jimin could go back in time, he’d prevent Taehyung from spatting those words at her. Yet, he couldn’t do anything. Playing the scene over and over in his mind wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change that she probably hated them. It wouldn’t change the song she made about them.

And worst of all, it wouldn’t change the fact that Jimin had let himself believe that their choice had been for the best, trying to console and reassure himself, even if he had already known that it was wrong. Tears were pooling up in his eyes even if none escaped as he finally caught a glimpse of her on the stage. Suddenly brought back to reality after his subconscious memory trip, Jimin finally connected back to the world, looking around while he was still frozen on his spot. People were still screaming around him and he wondered if he looked like an intruder. Because, after all, wasn’t that what he exactly was? She said it herself that she didn’t wish for them to watch her; so what was he doing here?

Jimin couldn’t help but stare; she looked ethereal, dressed like a queen in the middle of a sold-out arena. People were screaming her name as she yelled her infamous ‘hi people’. It was an opening sentence that Jimin heard way too many times in her vlogs and suddenly hearing it in real life seemed surreal.

Jimin could only watch in awe, entranced with her everything.

Screw the boys and what they would think once he’d be back from her concert.

He had been the one to find her six years ago anyway. He had been the one to bring her to their home six years ago, hoping for the boys to change their mind once they’d meet her.

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ibijau · 3 years

Note

Oh, here's a prompt! Nie Huaisang travels back in time to ensure that Jin Guangyao stays away from the Jin sect. When he gets back, he's disturbed to find that not only is Meng Yao now his stepbrother (or has at least become a very respected disciple of the Nie sect), but is also now engaged to Lan Xichen. Cue screaming and/or fainting. But at least Minjue is still alive, right?

It was surprisingly easy to make it all happen, much to Nie Huaisang's surprise. In stories time travel was always so complicated to orchestrate, with so much to plan for... but Nie Huaisang had just done it, and it seemed to be working well.

His first stop had been to Meng Shi, shortly after the birth of her son. He could have gone back further and prevented her from ever having that son, but... but at the end of the day, he'd been impossibly fond of Meng Yao even if he'd grown to hate Jin Guangyao. The solution, then, had been to visit his mother and make sure she didn't fill her son's head with impossible dreams.

It had taken some money to get Meng Shi out of the brothel for a few days, and she'd been quite suspicious of him at first. But Nie Huaisang had been a gentleman, and she'd warmed up to him a little. She'd even given up on trying to seduce him once he'd explained that while not opposed to feminine charms on occasion, he mostly cut his sleeve. She'd acted quite sorry for him when he'd explained that actually, he'd just gotten out of a long relationship that had ended badly due to some trust issues and a the betrayal of a man they'd believed to be their friend. Meng Shi had shared a few stories as well, some her own, most her colleagues'.

By the time they'd arrived in Lanling, Nie Huaisang had become quite attached to Meng Shi, and decided he might change his plans a little, depending on what would happen in the next few days.

Meng Shi was not happy to meet other women who'd had the dubious pleasure of sharing Jin Guansghan's bed. She was even less happy to talk to them and learn that none of them, not a single one, had ever received money or attention again after he'd left them, not even those who'd had a child. One of them, the servant of a powerful family of merchants, had gone begging at the door of the Jin sect when her three years old daughter had fallen sick with something nobody understood. She'd been sent home under threats of a beating if she ever showed up again, and her daughter had died.

That had been nearly four years earlier. Jin Guangshan hadn't been sect leader yet, but he'd been his father's favourite and most spoiled son, so he would have had the power to do anything he pleased, including sending a doctor to his daughter, or having her brought into Jinlin Tai to make sure no dark spirit was attacking her. He wasn't even engaged to his wife at the time, so it was impossible to use her to excuse his lack of care. And he'd known about the child's sickness, because he'd happened to be passing by when the mother came begging for help. It was he who had ordered she be sent away, annoyed by her crying.

Meng Shi had gone paler and paler as that poor woman told her tale of sorrow, clutching her son tighter against her chest. When Nie Huaisang and her had returned to their inn, she had asked him why he'd wanted her to meet those other women.

“I just don't like what he's doing,” Nie Huaisang replied, a little embarrassed that he hadn't thought she might get curious. It was stupid of him. Meng Yao surely couldn't have gotten his brains from his father after all.

Meng Shi, sitting on her bed, rocked her infant son in her arms in silence for a moment.

“They were all weak,” she said after a while.

“Who?”

“Those other women. They were all weak.”

Nie Huaisang tensed, fearing that she might announce she was cut of another cloth, that she would persevere where they had given up, but Meng Shi only sighed and kissed her son's forehead.

“He picked them so they were young and would have no one to turn to. Servants and prostitutes and unwanted daughters... he picked us so we'd have no one to turn to when he'd abandon us, no one to defend our honour and force him to pay for the children he made us have. Women like us, it's our own fault for getting pregnant in the first place, isn't it?”

Nie Huaisang stared at her, and realised she was right. He'd been so busy collecting names, he hadn't paused to wonder if there had been a pattern to Jin Guangshan's actions.

“Are there any more you want me to meet?” Meng Shi asked.

“No, she was the last one.”

“Then I suppose we'll started heading back to Yunping City tomorrow. I'll have to make new plans for...”

“No, we're not going back,” Nie Huaisang announced, startling her. “It's too unfair if you go back, you deserve better. Both of you deserve better!”

She blinked a few times, and gave him an amused smile, still rocking her baby. She didn't believe him, of course. Nie Huaisang could hardly blame her for that. After her last experience with a cultivator...

But Meng Shi really did deserve better. Nevermind that in a future he hoped to have now prevented, he'd desecrated her body to get back at her son, this was a different thing. Meng Shi was not a bad person. He'd once thought her guilty of ambition at least, but after a couple weeks in her company, he realised she'd just been desperate for a chance to escape her lot in life. He couldn't really hate her for that, even if it had led to such tragedies after her death.

Nie Huaisang liked her now that he'd met her, and he couldn't condemn her and her son to a worse fate than what they'd have known without him.

He needed a plan.

He needed a smart plan.

He had a plan.

“So, I might have lied a little, you're going back to the brothel,” Nie Huaisang said, earning an unimpressed smirk. “But not for long! I'm going to try something but... would you be willing to lie about who sired your son?”

“Why not? At this point, the truth won't get me much.”

“Perfect. Then I'm going to warn my sect that I have fathered a child, and that I'm unable to care for it at the moment. I'll have to write to them but... but I know Nie zongzhu will immediately send for you. He'll probably ask after me, he hasn't seen me in nearly a decade, but I know he won't have forgotten his cousin Nie Xingyu, and he'll do what's right for my son and his mother.”

And there was no risk of the real Nie Xingyu ever returning to ruin that story, Nie Huaisang knew. His father's beloved cousin, who'd become a rogue cultivator after an argument with their grandfather, had actually died a year or two before Nie Mingjue was even born. A Night Hunt accident, one which Nie Huaisang had discovered by chance while investigating some of Jin Guangyao's crimes. But he remembered his father always hoped to see Nie Xingyu return, always speaking so highly of that cousin who had been almost a brother to him.

Nie Huaisang's father would be delighted to meet his cousin's son, and if “Nie Xingyu” asked for it he would buy Meng Shi's contract in a heartbeat. It would only be a matter of convincing sect leader Nie then, and Nie Huaisang wasn't worried about that. His father had kept all the letters his cousin used to send and read them to his sons, so Nie Huaisang was confident he could imitate his prose and handwriting, not to mention he too carried the Nie seal to mark that letter.

At worst, if it didn't work, Nie Huaisang could always find the money somewhere to buy that contract in person and try to find somewhere to leave Meng Shi, but he'd rather know that she and Meng Yao were safe and sound in the Unclean Realm.

Meng Shi, of course, looked unimpressed by his plan. She still thought he was lying, or trying to sell wonders like other men before him so they could share her bed for a reduced fee, or demand more of her than they'd paid for. Nie Huaisang didn't mind. If people's opinions of him mattered, he would have chosen a different way to avenge his brother, wouldn't he?

It took nearly a month after Nie Huaisang had brought Meng Shi back to her brother, but one morning, from the room he'd rented across the street, he saw a small group of Nie cultivators go in. His father was among them, and when they excited the building, he was carrying little Meng Yao in his arms and chatting cheerfully with Meng Shi who seemed shocked at this turn of events.

Unseen by her Nie Huaisang smiled, and went to activate the talisman that would take him back to his own time. Hopefully this would have been enough to save Nie Mingjue. And if it hadn't... well, he knew how to travel to the past now.

Nie Huaisang opened his eyes. He was in his room, and yet not. This was what used to be his room when he was young, before he became sect leader. A little smaller, a little more private, with a view on a small private garden where he kept his favourite birds. Hisroom, the one he'd always preferred, and had only abandoned in a desperate attempt to be the leader he'd thought his people would need. If he still lived in this room, then it meant Nie Huaisang wasn't sect leader.

Delighted by this apparent victory, Nie Huaisang sprung to his feet and rushed out of the room, only to run head first into someone.

He'd ran into that person enough times that he knew them instantly, even before seeing their face.

“Well someone is in a hurry,” Nie Mingjue said with a laugh.

A laugh.

Nie Mingjue was laughing. Nie Huaisang couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard his brother laugh like this. Not since the Sunshot Campaign, he thought.

“Your cousins haven't arrived yet,” said someone standing just a step behind Nie Mingjue, her voice also full of laughter. “You didn't oversleep, don't worry.”

It took all of Nie Huaisang's willpower to look away from his brother (Nie Mingjue, happy, laughing, healthy) but he managed it, because that other voice was a little too familiar.

It was odd to find Meng Shi in her fifties when just a few hours ago, Nie Huaisang had seen her in her early twenties. Her hair had turned grey, there were wrinkles on her face, and she had exchanged the bold colours she used to wear at the brothel for the muted tones the Nie sect favoured. It suited her. Growing old suited her, if only because she would never have had the chance, had Nie Huaisang not changed her fate.

“I think he's not quite awake yet,” Nie Mingjue teased when Nie Huaisang stared too long, poking his little brother in the shoulder. “But at least I don't have to drag him out of bed. Can I leave the rest to you, auntie?”

Meng Shi smiled, and assured him she'd make sure Nie Huaisang was ready for his cousins' arrival. Nie Mingjue thanked her and left. Nie Huaisang almost ran after him, suddenly needing to touch him, to hug him, to make sure this was real, that he had truly...

“Now it's finally you,” Meng Shi noted, earning a curious glance. “I've realised a few years ago that you looked oddly similar to the man who helped me. Too similar to simply count it as family resemblance. But until today, you didn't look quite right either.”

When Nie Huaisang could only blink at her, she laughed.

“I thought so. I've been wondering for years, but... you did something to change what was meant to happen, didn't you?”

“I did. I wanted... I needed to save certain people.”

“Your brother,” Meng Shi guessed.

Nie Huaisang nodded.

“And my son?”

He nodded again. “Where is he? Is he well? He learned cultivation, right?”

Meng Shi smiled proudly. “He's one of the best in his generation, people keep telling me. He's married now, and living with his husband, but they come visit often. They wanted me to come live with them in the Cloud Recesses, but it's too cold for me over there, and I like the friends I've made here in Qinghe, so I... is something wrong?”

Nie Huaisang nodded, then shook his head. “His husband?”

“A-Yao is married to Lan zongzhu,” she explained. “I would have preferred if he'd married a woman, but Lan zongzhu is a very good husband to him, and they always seem so very happy when they're together. It's all a mother can truly wish for, isn't it? To see her child settled and happy.”

Nie Huaisang said nothing.

He did not run back into his room, didn't hurriedly prepare some ink so he could draw another time travelling talisman and set things right. It was tempting, so tempting. But Nie Huaisang resisted that temptation, and forced himself to smile.

“I'm so happy for them,” he mumbled after a while, and hoped he would learn to mean it.

#Meng Shi #Nie Huaisang #xisang #xiyao #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #this was super fun to write thanks for the prompt!!

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korasonata · 3 years

Text

Joe and Cleo model streams extended cut Part 2! (Streams 3 and 4)

—

STREAM 3

—

Cleo (reading chat): “Be careful with that thing” Im very careful with knives. Except for that time when I wasn’t.

—

Cleo (in response to chat asking about her friend Corpse): Corpse is not my husband. Ok? And they wouldn’t be anyway. Because they.

—

Cleo: I’m very confused Joe. I don’t know how to feel.

—

Cleo: Ok. I can do that. We can do that chat! I believe in you and myself…I- I don’t. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t.

Joe: That’s why you got me here to believe in you!

Cleo: Awww, thanks Joe!

Joe: You’re welcome Cleo!

—

Cleo (reading chat): “Black beer or clear beer?” No beer! I don’t believe in beer, it’s fictional. That’s just how it goes.

Joe: Yeah. Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear eats you.

—

Joe: One of my viewers asks “are you and Cleo real life childhood friends?” Yes, obviously as you can tell from our accents—

Both: We grew up—

Joe: On the same block—

Cleo: Yeah.

Joe: Uh, along the Thames there—

Cleo: Yes.

Joe: You know, we took different paths in life. Cleo obviously went to university and perused geology and teaching, whereas I ended up with an asbo and a bunch of weird telekinetic powers and things just kind of went wild from there.

Cleo: Yeah.

Joe: But now we’re back together again.

Cleo: Yeah! I mean— I mean after you saved the world a few times. It’s, ah…it’s necessary it— it felt right. To come back together.

Joe: Yep. It’s just— it’s just…it was time.

Cleo (reading chat): You thought Joe Hills was from Glasgow? Oh no no no no no no. No no, same— it’s a cockney accent, can’t you tell?

Joe: Yeah, that’s why I’m so good at rhyming.

Cleo: *snickering* I don’t think they believe us.

—

Joe: What is the British equivalent of a coffee shop?

Cleo: Umm…a coffee shop.

—

Joe: It looks like piece 3/4 will make sense at some point in the future.

Cleo: But today is not that day. And to be honest, tomorrow’s not looking great either.

—

Cleo (reading chat): *laughing* Joe thinks everyone is as well adjusted as he is!

Joe: Oh, I’m terribly adjusted! Do not adjust your Joes! It won’t help, we’ve tried!

—

Joe (reading chat): “You all heard Cleo say Joe would look good in shorts right?”

Cleo: *heavy sigh*

Joe: I mean, I’m gonna say, I’m not getting as much exercise as I used to, so it’s- don’t get your hopes up Cleo.

Cleo: I- I-…I mean, there’s only one person I wanna see in shorts and it’s not you, so we’re all good.

—

Joe (in British accent): Spot on.

Cleo: Better. You’re getting better at that you know. You’re not great, but you’re getting better.

Joe: Yeah. Well the thing is I need to be able to blend when I’m there. You know I don’t wanna call attention to myself in my accent.

Cleo: …Joe?

Joe: Yeah?

Cleo: Nothing you ever do is blendable.

Joe: …That explains why I’m so bad at painting. And making margaritas. Just kidding, I’m great at making margaritas. The secret is to get real Cointreau.

Cleo: I…Don’t— I’ve never really had a margarita.

Joe: WHAAAAAAAAAT??!!?!

—

STREAM 4

—

Joe: So, I’ve got to cut up the last couple pieces from my fourth page out of 17.

Cleo: Is this where I tell you I’ve got about 6 pages left on the dot?

Joe: Out of how many, though?

Cleo: Out of about…14?

Joe: Wow, so you’re like, halfway there.

Cleo: Well, literally the instructions say I’m halfway there. Although—

Joe: Oh really? They congratulate you on that?

Cleo: W—no, they—they—……thanks Joe…

—

Joe: I bet whoever makes those models, now that you and I are getting them back in vogue, it’s like “oh no! If only I hadn’t sold the last one to Cleo, I could sell 1000 of these today.”

Cleo: I mean, I don’t think anybody in the stream is going to go out and buy one when they’ve seen what it’s done to us. And our souls. Or lack thereof.

—

Joe (reading chat): “If Joe is Jar Jar and Cleo is Padme, who’s Bail Organa?” …I dunno, VintageBeef.

Cleo: *laughing* Just—Just VintageBeef.

Joe: Just VintageBeef.

Cleo: It just is! You and I both know that, so you guys need to know it.

Joe: Yeah, cause like I don’t think Bail Organa had any kids.

Cleo: Yeah he did, he had Leia.

Joe: Well, but he adopted Leia.

Cleo: Ok.

Joe: And VintageBeef seems like, of all the Hermits, the one to most likely actually have the capacity to take on that sort of responsibility? I don’t know…

Cleo: No no, I can— I’m just running through the Hermits in my head, and I’m just like yeah that—that reads. That reads pretty well.

—

Joe (Dude bro voice): Has your heart even been weighed by Anubis, bro?

Cleo (dude bro voice): *laughing* Do you even lift? (Regular voice)…or no. That’s the opposite of what you want to do with a heart…

—

Cleo: I threaten to murder people all the time. One might say it’s part of my brand.

—

Cleo (reading chat): “Death threats are Cleo’s love language” *laughing* You’re not wrong.

—

Cleo: I’ve made plenty of mistakes! Learn from me! Like plenty of mistakes, which is why I’m doing this in my 40s. Joe just made his mistakes faster, that’s why he’s doing it in his 30s.

SILENCE

Joe: …Most of the jokes I wanna make about that, I—just in case my kid is tuning into the stream I’m gonna not—

Cleo: *laughing*

Joe: Because I am legally required not to disparage my ex-wife in front of her.

—

Cleo (in response to someone saying Joe’s hands are sufficient): No, my hands are sufficient. Joe has dexterous, wonderful hands. Get it right chat.

—

Cleo (about her Garrus mug): Next stream I shall use this for my beverage which I shall pretend is coffee. Which is what I used to do to the children at school.

Joe: Wait, you would pretend you were drinking coffee? What were you actually drinking? Rum?

—

Joe: My best is still the same, but my worst is getting less bad.

Cleo: That’s depressing and accurate. All at the same time.

Joe (tiredly): Yay! I strive for accuracy in all of my depressing statements. Cause it makes it harder to rebut them.

Cleo (softly and with care): I know.

—

Cleo (mocking people who push boundaries): If you were a PIN, what would you be?

Joe: *laughing* Like a PIN number?!

Cleo: Yeah!

Both: *laughing*

Joe: If you could be any PIN code—

Cleo: If you had an—what—what was your favourite PIN code, for example?

Joe: What’s your favourite 4-digit number?

Cleo: *laughing* What’s the 4-digit number you remember most in the world?

Joe: What’s the easiest to remember 4-digit number?

—

Cleo: I’m not going to get sushi from the Asda!

Joe (voice steadily getting higher): Oh my gosh, I am so glad that my face camera is off when we do those collab streams with Xisuma. Because like *laughing through the pain* a lot of them are just me screaming internally, but I’m not pushing to talk. And the reason I’m not pushing to talk is I’m also kind of screaming externally? And it’s just like, it’s just— *very high pitched incomprehensible gibberish*

Cleo: You—you do wonder sometimes with, with—with him. *laughing* See, thing is sometimes I’m not sure if he’s being serious or not, so—

Joe: If he says that he buys sushi at the Asda, I’m like 99% confident that he’s being serious.

Cleo: *laughing* He’s adorable and needs to be protected from this world.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #zombiecleo #zombie cleo #joehills #joe hills

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on-maars · 3 years

Text

Another Place

Literally I haven’t been able to stop screaming since ep2 came out and I needed to write something

Read on AO3

Bobby is halfway through the third part of The Outsider when he hears a sharp noise followed by a curse coming from the fire station's kitchen. He sits up straight on his chair and even though the voice comes as a whisper, the door to his office is still ajar and Bobby can recognize some Spanish he learned back when he was in high-school.

It’s Eddie then, who always tends to resort to Spanish when he wants to curse or complain about something to himself.

Bobby puts down his book on his desk, stands up and opens his office door a bit wider so he can take a few steps inside the kitchen. The room is plunged into darkness but Bobby can still catch sight of Eddie’s silhouette, standing in front of a box of herbal tea, his eyebrows furrowed, as if he’s currently facing the most complicated dilemma of his entire life.

“Can’t sleep?” Bobby asks and makes Eddie jump with surprise, letting go of the mug he was holding in his right hand. And Bobby might be over 40 but his reflexes are still good and he managed to catch it before it breaks on the floor.

“Shit Bobby, you scared the hell out of me. Thought I was the only one awake.” Eddie says but his voice seems sad, almost dejected.

“Nightmares?” Bobby asks. After all, Eddie’s been through a lot for the past few months, it would only makes sense for his sleep to still be haunted by the memories of the shooting.

“More like insomnia.” Eddie corrects him, his eyes still down. “There’s just stuff I can’t get out of my head, you know.”

“Stuff about the shooting?” Bobby says calmly, but that’s enough for Eddie’s face to wince in pain.

“Among other things.”

“Why don’t you go sit down on the couch and let me take care of it?” He offers. Eddie’s hand stops in mid air and his shoulders eventually slumped as his heads nods, retreating back from the kitchen with a heavy step.

Bobby fills the kettle with water and turns it on before opening the box of herbal tea still on the counter. It’s an old box, supposed to help you sleep, one of those things he brought from home a few years ago when he realized it wasn’t much use back there. He places the tea bag in the mug, opens the drawer to grab a spoon and half a sugar cube. His movements are robotic, like he’s done that a thousand times in the past. And he did, back when his nights were filled with nightmares.

He lets out a sigh and leans against the fridge, looking at Eddie out of the corner of the eye. He’s seated on the armchair, his eyes fixed on the ground, the same haunted look Bobby saw him with a few times already during this past few weeks.

The light turns off on the kettle, and Bobby pours the water in the mug, before making his way towards the ‘living room’ area where he places the tray on the coffee table.

“Wanna talk about it?” Bobby asks as he takes on the seat on the couch.

“It’s just-” Eddie starts but marks a pause, like he’s not sure how to say the next few words. “Just stuff I- I try very hard not to think about. Or just bury- bury somewhere in my brain but-”

“It keeps coming back?” Bobby offers and smiles when Eddie just nods quietly as he takes a sip of his herbal tea. “Does it have anything to do with your panic attacks?”

Eddie’s mouth turns up at the edges but he presses his lips together in a straight line just as fast.

“How do you know about them?” Eddie asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I have my ways.” Bobby answers with a hint of amusement.

“Let me guess.” Eddie starts. “Buck?” And even though the words come out as a question, Bobby knows there’s no real need to answer. He still nods though, and smiles when Eddie rolls his eyes with a fond expression. “They were because of Ana.”

“The panic attacks?” Bobby asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “Were?” He adds. “You don’t have them anymore?”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head. “We broke up.” He adds. “I was trying to make it work for Christopher’s sake. Thought he loved her. And he liked her okay but turns out he was only going along with it because he thought she made me happy.” Eddie tells him, a sad laugh escaping his lips.

“And she didn’t?” Bobby encourages him. “Make you happy, that is.”

Eddie opens his mouth like he wants to say something but stops himself from doing so the next second. There’s a small silence after that. Eddie’s eyes are staring into space, his forehead wrinkled in concern, like he’s hopping that if he thinks about it long enough, an answer is going to magically appear in front of him.

“It was nice.” He starts and Bobby raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. “It just wasn’t working.” Eddie adds. “Couldn’t have worked.” He precises. “Not when I-” He marks a pause again, and closes his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his index. “I guess my heart just wasn’t in it.”

Bobby says nothing for a while. He just smiles. Because he knows where Eddie drives at. It’s been a long time coming, after all. All the looks, the soft glances, the sweet gestures. All the signs were there, and they were clear. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that what these two shared went beyond friendship.

“Have you talked to Buck about it, Eddie?” Bobby asks, his voice gentle.

Eddie flushes, and looks away. Because Bobby’s not only asking him if he talked to Buck about his break-up with Ana. No, in fact he’s asking a lot more than just that. And Eddie knows it. He’s just not sure he’s ready to go there.

“I... I did.” Eddie says, and closes his eyes again. “I mean I- I told him about Ana but I think he knows that… That it’s not only about the break up.” He adds. “It’s never been only about the break up, Bobby.” He admits. “It’s never been only about Ana.”

“I know.” Bobby smiles.

“He broke up with Taylor.” Eddie blurts out and Bobby’s not one to gossip about other people’s relationship because, ultimately, that’s their business and he’d hate to interfere with any of that. But as he sits there on that couch, watching Eddie, there’s only one thing that comes to his mind.

Freaking finally.

“So the ball’s in your court now, isn’t it?” Bobby asks.

“I guess it is, yeah.” Eddie answers, darting his eyes towards him before looking away just as fast. “And you know I was- I was waiting for the right time but…”

Bobby’s mouth turns up at the edges once again.

“I’m just so freaking tired of waiting, Cap.” Eddie finally says, and one of these rare soft smiles only reserved to Buck breaks in on his face. “I- I want this. Us.”

“I think everyone’s tired of waiting, Eddie.” Bobby remarks with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Tell him.” He adds. “After all we both know how he’s gonna react.”

“It’s- it’s gonna be good, right?” Eddie asks, his voice uncertain, a part of him still doubting. Bobby rolls his eyes and lets out a small laugh.

“Eddie, it’s Buck.” He reminds him. “He’s gonna be like a kid on Christmas morning.” He adds. “That boy loves you two to the moon and back.”

And, as if summoned, Buck chooses this moment to appear on top of the stairs, his eyes sleepy and his hair disheveled making his blond curls go in every direction. Bobby watches him as he shuffles towards them, and doesn’t miss the way his eyes light up when they fall on Eddie.

“Hey Eds.” He says, his voice soft, taking a seat on the arm of the chair Eddie's seated on. “You okay? I woke up and you- well you weren’t on your bunk.”

Bobby gives Eddie a knowing look and stands up, retreating back in his office once again, only this time he makes sure to lock the door behind him. He can still hear the muffled words coming from the living-room but nothing he can actually make sense of.

He lets his back rest on the backrest of his chair and goes back to his reading. It’s almost five in the morning now, and Bobby doesn’t see the appeal of trying to get a few hours sleep, especially now that they’ve been unbothered by any calls for a bit more than two hours. It’s certainly not going to last forever.

He finds himself so engrossed in his reading that the next thing he knows, a bit more than half an hour has passed and the kitchen is now dead quiet. The first sunbeams light up the fire station and Bobby decides that now is as good a time as any to start on breakfast.

Only, what he sees when he goes back inside the kitchen makes him stop in his tracks and smiles. Because there they are passed out on the couch, their legs intertwined and Eddie’s head pressed on the other’s chest while Buck has wrapped his left arm around Eddie’s waist while his right hand is buried in his black hair.

“Oh god.” He can hear Hen say from the top of the stairs. “Is this really happening?” She asks and Bobby only chuckles while shaking his head in disbelief.

“I guess it is.” He says.

“Holy shit.” This time, it’s Chimney’s turn to curse. “I’m calling Maddie.” He adds.

“Chim, it’s 5am.” Hen remarks.

“Oh trust me if I wait any longer I think she’ll punch me.”

“I’m taking a picture for the group-chat.” Ravi intervenes behind Chimney and Bobby only watches them from the kitchen with an amused smile.

“Guys come on, let them sleep for a while okay? They deserve it.”

“We’re not sleeping.” Buck’s voice comes from behind the couch. Bobby can’t see him but he can only picture the exasperated expression on his face.

“Not anymore.” Eddie adds.

Bobby rolls his eyes and turns his back on them to face the oven while chaos suddenly erupts in the fire station.

With a sigh and an amused smile, he starts on breakfast.

#buddie #buck x eddie #911 #9-1-1 #911 fic #buddie fic #my writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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honeyhenry · 3 years

Text

Tiny

it had been the scariest moment of your life, easily

the culmination of henry’s birthday had led to a very welcome pregnancy, with you being coddled and adored by your husband as you grew your sweet unborn child

your unborn baby boy - as you’d found out only a couple of months ago - had been growing really well, on track to be a healthy 7-8lbs (3.5kg)

the doctors had noted the babe’s size, but after the first time Henry walked through the door at the 12 week scan, they realised what they were dealing with

it actually all started to make sense

but the scariest part, was that your sweet boy, due for the end of February had began his mission into the world 6 weeks early, during the first week of the coldest January on record

luckily you had both Henry and Kal at home to rush to your aid while you’d thought you were experiencing braxton hicks contractions

but it wasn't that. it was the real deal

you’re already in active labour when you get to the hospital

you’d held your husband’s hand and wept, not only in pain but with the fear of being “too early, he’s too early Hen”

all he could do was wipe your tears and reassure you that everything was going to be okay. even if he couldnt be certain himself

Baby boy Cavill comes in at 4lbs 4oz (2kg) and is whisked away after you spend just a brief moment with him

he gets some checks, all under Henry’s watchful eye as you make him promise to stay with your son, whose tiny lungs help him to scream and cry out at the suddenly bright, cold world

you’re both alright, but they want to keep you and your son in for a couple of days to make sure he’s stable

Henry has had to call a few people, only the important ones, to let them know the news, doing so quickly so that he doesn’t have to be away from you or his baby boy for long

everyone had said that your baby would be chunky, given your husband’s size, but when you see them in the little hospital crib, they’re so little

it hurts your heart to see how small and fragile he is, but both you and Henry know that he is in the safest place he can be

he’s given a little red knitted hat to wear so that the nurses and doctors know he’s one of the little preemie babies on the ward, and thus needs some extra care and attention

you lean over him in his little box crib, gazing at him all the while, lifting him out to hold and feed when allowed

as soon as you’re given the green light, he is in your arms for hours, settling down and just existing peacefully and contently

Henry is just SO big, particularly when leaning his body over the crib, using the tip of his finger to hold his little man’s hand

he likes to have small conversations with him

“Already repping our rugby team with that hat, son”

Henry’s held him as much as he can already, sitting in the big chair by the bed you lay and rest in, having some skin to skin cuddles

you get a lot of visits from the nurses when he does that

you’ll doze off and wake up to Henry chatting away to the little boy on his chest, a fistful of chest hair in his grasp

“you are lucky you’re cute and brand new because this is quite sore for daddy”

his son is the size of his hand, and between his large palms he’s fragile and little and just the apple of his eye

all his nieces and nephews have been upwards of 7 pounds

so now Baby Boy feels even smaller in his massive arms.

His forearm is bigger than his baby - he can’t believe the little miracle that is his boy

his strong little man

all the clothes you'd brought in the hospital bag swamp him so you need to take a couple offered from the hospital and a pack from the hospital gift shop until you can get more preemie clothes

yes, even newborn size is too big and it makes your heart ache

Henry picks up some Winnie the Pooh items from the shop, and a little stuffed Pooh Bear for his baby boy

after three days you get the all clear to take him home. He’s fine, just tinier than you and Henry - and your families - had anticipated

you walk out happily, still a little in pain but choosing instead to revel in the delight that your sweet boy is okay

Henry has the hospital bag and the car seat with baby in tow

He is minute compared to the large clunky car seat. Somehow he looks ten times smaller and even more precious, holding his own little hands with a soft pout on his lips

he looks just like Henry when he sleeps

you watch Henry click the car seat in expertly, knowing he’s practiced in the garage many times already. He’d always wanted to make sure his sweet boy is safe

Henry drives home ten miles below the speed limit

“it feels like we’re stealing a child from the hospital” “well this one came out of me so i think it’s okay”

the car finally rolls into the drive and stops carefully outside the grand house, and you squeeze Henry’s hand

Baby is sleeping soundly, having not even moved through the duration of the car journey despite you feeling every stone and pothole the car drove over, worried for his safety

Henry carries him into the house in the carseat, resting it gently on the floor in the hallway of your home

for now, it’s just you three, as Kal will arrive later with a very excited family member who you’re grateful to for taking Kal while you’d left in such a rush a few days ago

Henry pulls you in close for a hug, resting his head on yours and wrapping his whole being around you

the past few days have been possibly the scariest in his entire life

but they’ve also been the happiest, up there with your wedding, and the time you took him to his favourite restaurant that was a 3 hour drive away, on his only cheat day that month

after a quiet moment in each others’ embrace, silently feeling each and every emotion together, flooding with relief as you rest on each other for support and love, your son is unpacked from the car seat

he’s like a soft tiny starfish and you coo at his sweet, sleepy face

you carry him because Henry feels like a “clumsy giant” holding his boy, especially when not in the comfort of a large chair where he can remain stable

you hold him and look at his little foot tag from the hospital

“and here we thought we had an extra few weeks for his name...he needs one soon though, he can’t be Baby Boy Cavill forever”

“can’t he?” you hear Henry’s deep voice from over your shoulder and you catch a glimpse at him looking ever so adoringly at your son, as you tear your eyes from the sweet newborn for only just a moment

it’s then that you confirm that your boys definitely have the same face

Baby boy has his daddy’s eyes and chin and you are in love

“you know he will grow up one day. We can’t keep him this size forever. i wish we could though, he smells so good”

to which Henry chuckles and smells the baby’s head, in complete agreement

later on, baby boy lays on his father’s chest. Henry holds them delicately in place, as though they were made of glass

he can nod his head and smell that wonderful baby smell, and know that this little mass of human perfection is completely healthy, and all his

and should he hear a little squeak, as he adjusts his son to stay comfortable for another hour, his immediate reaction is a soft “oh son, it’s okay. Daddy’s here”

with you curled up beside him, falling asleep with ease after such a strenuous labour and prolonged stay at the hospital, Henry realises he will always get to feel this lucky with his little family by his side

he just doesn't know what on earth he’s done to deserve it

and Kal will be such a wonderful big brother, he can already tell. Him and baby are going to be best friends

Baby takes milk like a champ, they’ll be happy and healthy and plump in no time, especially thanks to Henry’s pep talks during feeds or the baby massage sessions he insists on implementing with his large, gentle soothing hands

a few days later, it is decided that Baby boy Cavill is called Will - you’re adamant on Will not William - but he’s often called Junior by Henry, and always Baby Boy to his loving mama

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill writing #dad!henry cavill #cavillary

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blackinn-n · 3 years

Text

Blackinnon headcanons (because @marlymckitten’s lovely ones got me to write a bit again <3 go check on hers!!!!)

Yes. It’s sappy. But I love sappy Blackinnon. I can’t bear angst any longer so enjoy!

Sirius fell in love with her before she fell in love with him. Actually, he fell in love with Marlene before James fell in love with Lily, even if he took longer to realize it. He unconsciously developed a crush on her during their first year and recognize his messy feelings as love when he was a bit older. Anyway, he liked to say to her that he had loved her since he was a kid and Marlene used to roll her eyes and call him a sappy liar — but Sirius was not lying. Not even a bit.

I personally hc that they didn’t start dating at Hogwarts. Sirius was, emotionally, too much of a mess to actually sort out what he felt. It was not that he wasn’t sure of her — he knew he loved Marlene. He was certain of that. He was just scared to hurt her in any way possible, and though less of himself — he though he wasn’t able to make her happy, and he could not bear it.

It was Marlene who made the first move. One night, she just kissed him. They were alone in London, laughing, smoking and chatting at 1 AM while the rest of the gang had already went home. She just did it. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. Hard, passionately. It took him out of breath.

As their relationship became solid, it was clear to both of them that what was happening was that.. they were settling. To Sirius, the word has seem horrendous till she had told him what she felt for him. But he was happier that he had ever been with her and was actually pretty content with the perspective of being hers for the rest of his life.

They weren’t too much into PDA. Sirius resting a hand on her tights, or holding hands was ok — but they couldn’t stand couples who made out constantly while they were out with friends. It was totally different when they were drunk: in that occasions they could not take their hands off each other and used to disappear so as to shag in some bathroom or to go home (to shag. Yes, they did it nonstop)

They had a matching tattoo. They had gone out one evening in March, just the two of them. It was supposed to be a romantic dinner but it had naturally lead to a drunk night in some club in London. After that, they had found some weird (and probably too dirty to be trusted) tattoo shop which was still opened at night and decided to go for it. They were too tipsy to be taken seriously, but managed to explain to the tattooer what they wanted. At the end, Sirius got the written “star of the sky” in Marlene’s handwriting, and she had “star of the sea” in his, on their pelvis. It was sappy, they knew it, but it was them.

Marlene absolutely adored Sirius. She thought he was breathtaking. That’s true, a lot of people thought that — Sirius was indeed a very handsome man, but to Marlene, Sirius was much more than that. Marlene loved everything about him. She loved stroking his hair and caressing the side of his face. She loved when he took her hands into his. She loved kissing his full lips and holding his gaze, despite it made her blush most of the time. She loved feeling his weight on her when he fell asleep while cuddling. She loved feeling him inside of her, it made her feel a sense of fullness and connection she had never felt with someone before.

James was so happy when they got together. He wasn’t even the slightest angry or upset at them, though they knew he would have killed them both if they hurt each other.

Lily was ecstatic when they started dating, too. Perhaps even more than her husband, considering she was the first person Sirius admitted he was in love with Marlene to. It happened during their seventh year at Hogwarts. Lily was looking for Marls — she knew the Astronomy Tower was her and Sirius’ spot and expected to find her there, but only him was present that evening. They talked quite a lot and at one point he just slipped it out. It felt so scaring, but so, so good. Lily promised not to tell a soul, not even to James and Sirius trusted her. She also advised him to tell her, but he knew he needed more time.

He desired a family with her but was scared to bring the topic up — he didn’t really think he would have really been much of a father material with the upbringing he had. His worse nightmare was perhaps inflicting on his children the same pain he had had to endure during his childhood — the idea scared him shitless. But one day, they talked about it. They approached the subject shyly, as if having different perspectives would have risked to break what they had. When Sirius told her it would have be nice, to have kids one day, Marlene could not suppress the wide, genuine smile that appeared on her face. “You’d really want them?” “Yes. With you, I would want them. I think I would be a shit father, but with you to balance I think they’d turn up nice” “That’s bullshit. You will be a wonderful dad.” “I will be? Not “would”?” “Yep. You will. I think we should talk about it… having kids, one day.” Sirius had never been happier.

Marlene’s family was fond of Sirius. Her parents and brother especially. And of course Euphemia and Fleamont loved Marlene — she was James’ first friend ever. Euphemia confessed them once that she had been planning their wedding since fifth year (James laughed a bit to much for Marlene’s liking after hearing that).

Marlene once had called Walburga Black a “fucking cow”. She hadn’t just called her that, she had YELLED it on the platform before taking Sirius hand and making him follow her on the train. She had heard a sneaky comment from her: it was the usual babbling about Sirius being a shame, a failure for being how he was, for hanging out with dirty mudbloods and staying at the Potters. She could not take it. Although her mother (who had intercepted her daughter’s furious expression) had tried to stop her, she had just walked over and yelled at Walburga Black, a witch from a noble and ancient family in the Magical Community, that she was a fucking cow. Around lots, lots of people. Sirius thought he had never loved her more.

Once Sirius told her he wanted to shave his beard, and she screamed, horrified and threatened not to have sex with him for a month if he really did it.

For his 23rd birthday, Marlene gifted him a handful of Polaroids of her nudes, along with his real present. Sirius remained in total awe for a few seconds and then looked at her like a puppy who has received the best toy ever. He really was a simple man, not needing much to be happy.

Sirius couldn’t cook for shit. He could barely prepare a toast without burning something. And most of the time, when he was hungry, he forgot he could use magic. That meant he was not able to surprise her with breakfast in bed or some thing like that — okay, he knew how to make coffee or how to spread jam on bread, he was not that dumb. Anyway, Marlene used to tease him by saying he would starve if she refused to cook for the rest of his days. “I can always eat you, you know” “You are incredible, Black”

7th year’s St Valentine’s Day was perhaps the worst one Marlene had spent in her seventeen years on the Earth. Not that she had ever celebrated it (she hated St Valentine’s Day, the sappy promises, the fake couples who put on a good face during the trip to Hogsmeade so as to show off even if half school knew one of them was shagging someone else. She just couldn’t bear it), but that year every. single. one of her friends had a date. Lily went with James, Remus had gone to Hogsmeade with a bloke he had met in the summer, Alice went with Frank, Mary had been asked by a quite good looking boy who was part of the same club as hers, Emmeline and Dorcas went together (their first public trip after their coming out) and even Peter had managed to set up a date with a really nice girl he had had a crush on since fifth year. And Sirius… well, she supposed he was shagging three or four girls at the same time. Marlene spent most of her time in the library, catching up with her homework, and after a rather depressing lunch alone she hid herself in the Common Room who was occupied only by first and second years who could not go to the village yet. She read a book until she heard someone calling her name. She didn’t even had to turn around to know who it was. Nobody called her Lene. They walked through the empty corridors and corners of the school, perfectly comfortable with one another. He asked her what she had done that day, but she didn’t ask him back. She didn’t want to know if he had gone to Hogsmeade with someone. What she didn’t know was that, yes, he had gone to the village… to buy her flowers. They following morning, when she woke up, she found a beautiful bouquet of tulips — her favorites — of all colors. The was no card attached and it took Lily twenty minutes to convince Marlene that they really were for her.

Marlene’s dream had always been to visit Paris. When she was ten, she promised herself that she would only have gone with the love of her life — Marlene pretended to be nauseated by romance, but the truth was that she was a hopeless romantic herself. She kept the promise. One year or so into their relationship, Sirius and Marlene stayed in Paris for a week. One night they went to a bar and returned to the apartment quite intoxicated and extremely horny, so the usual. They shagged everywhere, on the couch, on the bed, on the floor, by the fucking window, not caring who could see them. Once they were finished, they were laying on the couch, naked, only covered by a thin blanket to protect them from the chilly air, their bodies entangled. She told him about her promise. He just looked at her, his eyes full of pure love. And he told her. And it was not scary, quite the contrary, actually. “I love you” he simply said. “I love you so much, Marls” She tried to reply, but her voice was thick with emotion. He understood anyway and gently kissed her, thinking he had finally found something worth living for. And it was love, it had always been love.

#blackinnon #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #marauders #marlene x sirius #sirius x marlene #harry potter #marauders era #blackinnon headcanons

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

You’re Important to Me part 4

Part 1 | part 2| part 3

Genre: angst/comfort

———————————————————————-

Chat: Troublemaker (affectionate)

Lucifer: Come home immediately. We need to talk.

Mammon: bout what? If its one of your shitty punishments. Think I’ll pass.

Lucifer rested his head on his desk letting out a groan. The second-born was frustrating him to no end. However, the first-born supposes he’s made him this way from everything he’s put him through. Picking up the pill bottle, he rolled it in his hand and watched as the contents slid from one side to the other. He placed them in a locked door in his desk as he thought about how they had been this close to losing yet another sibling.

A soft rapping on the office door pulled his attention back to the present.

“Enter,” he sat up straight as the guest joined him. It was Levi.

“Do you think Mammon still loves us. I-I’ve really been thinking about what’s been going on….. about our family. What if he leaves us? We lost Lilith. I-I don’t want to lose him too…” The Avatar of Envy’s voice quaked. Back when they were angels they were once close- almost even closer than the twins.

“I’m sure he does, Levi.” His response was hollow words. If Lucifer was being honest, he didn’t really know how Mammon felt about them currently. If he were the one in Mammon’s shoes, he would absolutely despise his brothers.“He’s currently refusing to come home, however. It’s likely that he knows what went on today and that’s why he broke up with the human we all know he cherishes so deeply. He didn’t want us to know.”

“I knew it! He hates us and never wants to see our faces again.”

“Leviathan, I never said that.” Lucifer’s voice was stern. “Please calm down before you throw yourself into a panic attack. He has to come home eventually, and we’ll all talk then- if not tonight then definitely tomorrow morning. For now, maybe you should go play one of your games. If you’d like I could join you to help take your mind off this whole debacle.”

Levi nodded his head slowly. “ I would appreciate that….. Actually, I had made this rpg specifically to play-test with Mammon but if you wanted to….we could play it together.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Levi.”

Finally deciding to make his way home, Mammon pushed open the heavy doors to the house. The last thing he wanted to do was face his brothers right now. He already anticipated their reactions. The teasing and mocking that would be thrown his way- there wasn’t any escape for him now, was there? At least no one was here at the moment- that much he could be greatful for.

As he made his way up to his room, the demon made sure to avoid the places he knew his brothers would frequent at this time of night. Once there, he slipped inside and tossed the bag of clothes he had modeled in today from the top of of the stairs into the walk in closet with practiced precision. When he turned his head, he saw her small, blurry form just lying there on the couch.

“Why’re you in here? Ya got a room if your own dontcha?”

“I just….. sorry. I pushed too hard, didn’t I?” Arella’s voice sounded hurt. “It was just that I thought this might be the only place I could go and you’re brothers wouldn’t come looking for me. I’m still really angry with them. Not that they would anyway, not with how I screamed and yelled at them earlier...”

“And Lucifer didn’t kill ya on the spot? Its a miracle you’re alive after that.” He let out a chuckle. “I can’t tell if you’re incredibly brave or just plain dumb.”

“Maybe both…..” Arella sighed, “I… um… I’ll go back to my room now.” As she stood and made her up the staircase, he could feel the sadness radiating off of their pact mark.

“‘Rella, wait.” He grabbed her by the arm. “Don’t go. I don’t mind if ya stay…. We should talk about earlier, okay?”

He watched as she nodded a small frown on her face. Now that he could see her more clearly, he noticed the puffy eyes and tear tacks streaked down her cheeks. Now he just felt worse.

“I was thinkin’ real hard about this morning and I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” He started, “I don’t… I don’t really think we should break up…. I know you were just trying to help. That you were worried and scared for me.”

“I was…. Can I tell you something?“ she asks as he nods. “Seven years ago, I lost my little brother and then six months later my mother to suicide. One to cyber bullying, the other because she was so consumed with grief from the loss of a child that she saw no way to go on…. Do you know what was like….. to find their bodies? To realize you could have helped them if you had just paid attention and seen the warning signs? It still affects me to this day….They were the only blood related family I had left until I had found a new family here in the Devildom with you and your brothers. A-and then when you were saying all those things last night, I- I flashed back to the night I had found my brother but instead of him it was you and I-I-”

Mammon pulled the human tight against his chest in what could have been a bone crushing hug if he wasn’t careful and she buried her face in his chest. Her body shook with with muffled sobs.

“I’m sorry. I was running my mouth without thinking ‘bout what that might do to everyone- worst of all you….” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I wont say things like that ever again. No matter how I’m feelin’.

He walked her back towards the bed, letting her get in as he went to go change into some more comfortable clothes for sleeping. He joined her in bed shortly after, pulling her close as he wiped the stray tears from his cheeks. Arella moved closer so she could lay her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, her crying reduce to quiet sniffles and hiccups by this point.

“Ya know, I think you just wasted your breath when you were yellin’ at my brothers earlier…. I think to them, I’ll just always be the family screw up. I’m already dreading the teasing I’ll get tomorrow at breakfast….”

“It had to be done, though. I think I managed to set them all straight….If you could have seen the look on their faces when I lost control of my temper and fried all the electronics in the common room or when I commanded Asmo to sit so hard he crashed face first into the floor….”

“Wait…you did what?” He quirked an eyebrow as he stared down at her before breaking into a soft laugh, “Ya really are something else, Hon, ya know that? I’ve never met someone who would fight for me like this before- who would call my brothers out on their bullshit.”

“Only because I know you don’t deserve to be treated this way…. You… you deserve good things and to be treated well by the people who you love most.” She yawned as she stretched out a little more in his embrace. “And because I love you and I would be lost if anything were to happen to you.” Her eyes were starting to slip closed.

“I love you too, babe.” The demon hummed as he started to card his fingers through her hair. As soon as he was sure she was out like a light he pressed his lips to the crown of her heard once more.

“Thank you for being here on my worst days, for being my little ray of sunshine down here in the dark.”

Once the morning came around, most of Mammon’s brothers gathered in the common room. They were awaiting the entrance of the Avatar of Greed as it was nearly breakfast time.

Lucifer had figured Mammon would be avoiding them as if they had the plague, so he instructed Beel to drag him in here by any means necessary. They all knew he was successful when they heard Mammon let out a surprised yelp and the clattering of a bowl against the floor.

“C’mon, Beel, Let me go!”

“Not until we all talk.”

“Talk? What’s there to talk about? I didn’t do nothin’ so let me go!’

Both demons soon entered the dining room as the sixth-born sat his older on the couch facing all of them, holding him down by his shoulders so Mammon couldn’t escape despite how he squirmed and tried to wiggle his way out of Beel’s grasp.

“Mammon, stop struggling.” It was a request from eldest, a chance to cooperate. “We all have some words we’d like to say to you.”

Mammon froze at that statement. Here it came: all the ridicule and teasing. He wanted to run. He was the second strongest of them, maybe if he tried hard enough, he could shake his little brother off and get away. What good would that do him though? His brothers would just corner him later anyway so maybe it was just best to get it over with now.

He looked towards his brothers’ blurry figures, a million different thoughts rushing his head. He couldn’t tell their expressions from this distance but they had to be smiling, right- ready to laugh at him any minute now. His body tensed as he braced himself for the harsh sting of their words.

“Mammon, we’re sorry,” Asmo was the first to speak up after a short moment of silence, “We love you so much even though we suck at showing it.”

“You did so much for us after we fell,- you still do a lot for us even now,” the seventh-born picked his head up from the table,“And I don’t think we ever told you how much we all appreciate it…. If it weren’t for you, I don’t even think we would still be a family… don’t forget, you’re the one who kept us all in line when Lucifer would lock himself away in his office back then.”

“I know we act like you’re just a burden to us,” Satan started, “but I think all of us would agree that life would be so boring without you here.”

“Yeah, I-I mean who else would take the time to play games with me when I’m down in the dumps?” Levi asked.

“Or risk getting strung up from the chandelier to get me the food that I want from the human world?” Beel cut in.

“Or compliment me on my outfit or hair no matter what form I choose to take for the day. Or is always there to hype me up when I’m having a bad day? Hell, you even gave up the position of DevilStyle’s cover model just for me! Honestly I think you might be the best big brother out there.”

“We know about all the things you’ve done in secret for us- the things you don’t take credit for,” Lucifer smiled softly, “I’m proud to call you my brother for that. We love you and while you may make some poor life choices from time to time, our lives just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Mammon looks at them in a daze. Was this really happening? His brothers were…. Apologizing? To him of all people? This had to be a dream. There was no reality in which his brothers really cared about him. The second-born pinched the skin on his arm. That’s what you did to check if you were dreaming, right?

Harder, harder he pinched until the spot was sure to bruise. It wasn’t until Beelzebub placed his hand over his that Mammon realized he wasn’t dreaming. This was reality.

Tears welled in his eyes as he processed the words he just heard. One tear fell down his cheek soon followed by another then another until eventually the demon let out a sob.

“Th-This ain’t real! It ain’t!” The second-born yelled, his body shaking as he sobbed harder. “I’m still dreamin’. I-I gotta be! None of this is real…”

His brothers moved to embrace him- first the sixth-born, then the eldest and then the youngest. One by one, the rest of their brothers followed suit until the seven of them all somehow managed to end up on the floor in one giant cuddle pile, his face pressed into Lucifers as they allowed their brother to cry out all the tears he’d been bottling up for all these centuries.

It seemed they were going to be there a while- Good thing Lucifer had called Diavolo to tell him they wouldn’t be attending RAD today. That this was a more important matter to attend to.

“This stops today, Lucifer announced to his siblings once Mammon had stopped crying. “From today on, the six of us will make a conscious effort to change the ways we’ve talk to and treated you.”

“And if we get too out of hand, feel free to put us in our place,” Belphegor chuckled. “We can be blockheads from time to time.”

“The point is,” Asmodeus sighed as he hugged his brother a little tighter, “We all messed up big time. We just want to make you feel loved and appreciated again- like you’re an important part of this family.”

“We lost Lilith.” It was Beel’s turn to speak. “We’re not losing you too.”

Mammon smiled at his brothers’ words. Finally, he had thought, finally they were showing their true feelings to him after all these centuries.

“Thanks guys…..” the demon’s voice sounded cracked and strained from all the crying he had done earlier. “Even after everything that’s happened I wouldn’t trade y’all for the world. I love you guys.”

A chorus of ‘I love you too’s sounded from the group of demons as another family hug commenced. Eventually, as hours passed, one by one, they had all fallen asleep, each with a smile on their face and still huddled together.

Arella eventually found them in that state. With a soft smile she grabbed the blanket they often used for movie night and draped it over them heading back to her room so she wouldn’t disturb them.

———————————————————————-

Taglist: @gallantys

Masterlist 2

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onecanonlife · 3 years

Text

Wilbur has never had wings. He has long since resigned himself to that fact. However much of his father's blood runs through his veins, it is not enough to grant him that gift.

Wilbur comes back to life, and his back begins to ache.

(word count: 6,141)

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

It’s stupid, but when his back first begins to ache, he assumes it’s old age.

The thing is that he doesn’t have any real frame of reference for what constitutes as old and what does not. His father is old, but his father has lived for literally thousands of years. Technoblade is not quite so old as that, but Technoblade never dies is more than just a catchphrase. Tommy is young, he’s sure of that much, but Tommy has days where he wakes up and his head and ribs won’t stop aching, remnants of that third death that have never quite left him, so Tommy is perhaps not the best gauge of what pains are and are not normal for a young person.

Wilbur doesn’t think that he’s particularly old. He’s still not yet thirty, unless he counts the void years. Then, he’s older than thirty. Then, he’s older than his own bones. He tries not to dwell on the void years, because dwelling on the void years gives him urges that he’s still learning how to ignore. Urges like informing everyone gaily and at length when the inevitable heat death of the universe will be, or giving everyone a graphic description of what happens at a microscopic level in the human body when it picks up a stomach bug.

The point is, he’s not very old. But he feels it, a lot of the time, so when he wakes up one morning and his back is killing him, he shrugs it off and goes about his day. It hurts, sure. It hurts kind of a lot. But he’s had worse. The void took him apart molecule by molecule and put him back together again so many times that he learned to love it, and compared to that, this is nothing at all.

Life in the Arctic has been—nice. It’s been nice, reconnecting with Phil, cautiously rebuilding his relationship with Technoblade. Tommy comes to visit a lot, and it’s odd, trying to juggle the kid he thinks of as a brother with his father and his father’s best friend, especially when there’s so much bad blood between the lot of them, but they make it work. And Ranboo is around a lot, and he’s a nice kid, and Niki stops by every so often, and it’s good to see her. No one else is very interested in coming to visit him, which is understandable, but she always smiles at him, and he knows that they’re still friends. Which is good.

He’s fairly sure that the four of them, Phil and Techno and Niki and Ranboo, have some sort of secret club thing going on. They always give him different answers when he asks about it; Niki blinks and tells him it’s a book club, and Ranboo does not blink because he does not have eyelids, but Ranboo claims that it’s a pet grooming society. So they’re lying to him for sure, and he thinks he could know the truth if he wanted to, if he tapped in just a bit more to those bits of void that have nestled in his heart. The temptation is strong, sometimes, but he resists.

He doesn’t want to mess with a good thing, is all. He’s found a peace here in the snow that he didn’t think he would be able to find outside of the grave. He is hesitant to call himself healing, but most days, when his head cries out for blood and fire and burning the world and himself along with it, he can push the idea away and carry on without trying to act on it. That is healing, perhaps.

Captain Puffy tells him it is, anyway, and he’s found that Captain Puffy tends to know what she’s talking about.

But so. His back hurts. And he expects it to stop after a while, because even old person aches surely can’t last forever. Except, it doesn’t, and in fact seems to only get worse over the next few days, to the point that he starts to worry that it’s going to begin interfering with his functionality. Which he doesn’t want. He needs freedom, freedom to go where he wants, even if where he wants to go usually isn’t very far. It’s the principle of the thing. He does not do well with confinement, with spaces that are too enclosed, and if this pain ends up laying him out in his room, he’s going to go insane.

Poor choice of words, that. But the point still stands, so he makes a decision. The decision is this: he’s simply not going to allow that to happen.

So he slaps a smile on his face and carries on with his business, and does his best to ignore the way his spine starts to feel like it’s cracking open and stabbing into the surrounding muscle. And he is a very good actor, if he does say so himself, so for the most part, no one seems to notice that anything is wrong. Phil asks him if he’s feeling alright, but he’s able to deflect by claiming fatigue, and Phil accepts the explanation easily. And the pain only increases, does not let up at all, but it’s a gradual sort of increase, so before too long, he figures out how to adjust to it. It’s fine. He’ll be fine.

And then Tommy stops by for a visit, and they’re chatting outside for a moment, and Tommy says something stupid and ridiculous, so he smacks him gently upside the head, which Tommy takes objection to. And then they’re wrestling, which makes the pain flare a bit, but it’s manageable, especially since he gets Tommy pinned in about four seconds flat, which. Is concerning, a bit, because he is not particularly strong, physically, so if he can pin Tommy, there are a lot of other people who could also definitely pin Tommy.

But he’s probably not thinking about it the right way. This was a play fight, not a real one, and it’s difficult, sometimes, to remember that the server is currently at peace.

He pins Tommy, both of them panting and grinning in the snow, and he doesn’t let up until Tommy admits defeat. And then he gets to his feet, and here is where he makes the error: he turns his back.

The snowball impacts him right between his shoulder blades. He stumbles forward with the force of it, and his knees hit the snow.

Tommy is already cackling, is calling him a bitch. Wilbur barely has time to think oh, shit before something spasms, and it’s like something has taken a knife to him from the inside out. He hears a strangled little scream, choked and agonized, and barely recognizes the fact that it’s coming from him, because black spots are dancing across his vision and his lungs aren’t inflating properly and he can hardly think.

“Oh, come on,” Tommy says, a wide smile still in his voice. “Don’t be such a pussy. I didn’t even pack any ice in.”

He can’t reply. The agony is centered where the snowball hit, but it’s radiating outward, and the whole of his back feels like it’s burning and freezing all at once, and he shudders violently, breaths coming in short, quick gasps. He clenches his fists, braces them against his thighs, pressing down hard enough to leave bruises.

“Wilbur?” Tommy asks, more uncertain. And then, Tommy is there, kneeling down in front of him, and his face goes all wide and panicky. “Wilbur? Holy shit, are you dying? Are you having a heart attack? A stroke? Are you freezing to death? Have I just killed you with a snowball? You’ve got three lives again, right? Where are you hurt, Wil, come one, you’ve got to tell me, you’ve gotta tell me so I can fix it, are you—”

��My back,” he manages, “my back’s been—my back’s been hurting, it wasn’t your fault, it’s just—” He cuts off with another gasp as all the muscles in his back convulse, tensing and untensing and tensing again and sending a wave of stabbing pain through his nerves.

“Oh, Prime,” Tommy says, “oh, Prime, alright, you’re gonna be fine, big man, let’s just get you inside, alright? Can you walk? Nevermind, just—” Tommy hooks his hands underneath his arms and hauls him to his feet, slinging one of his arms across his shoulders as soon as he can get them in the right position. He lets out a little whimper, and hates himself for doing so, just a little bit, but fuck, that hurts.

The stairs are a trial. His feet drag, and he would trip and fall flat on his face if it weren’t for Tommy. But then, they’re inside Phil’s house, and Tommy sits him down on Phil’s ratty little couch, and he immediately curls in on himself, hands gripping his forearms as if the pain will go away if he hugs himself hard enough.

“Okay, shirt off, Wil, let me see,” Tommy says, and he blinks dumbly for a moment.

“What?” he asks, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth.

“No, just—you’ve got to let me see what’s wrong, yeah?”

“‘S old man aches,” he mumbles, but doesn’t try to fight it when Tommy begins manhandling his arms, pushing at his coat sleeves.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Tommy demands. “You’re not that old. Who do you think you are, Philza fucking Minecraft? Come on, just let me see—” He finally manages to get the coat off, and then the shirt, and his skin erupts in gooseflesh as it’s exposed to the air. Tommy freezes.

“What?” he asks. “What is it, what’s—”

“I don’t,” Tommy says, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t, Wilbur, I don’t know what this is, I don’t—holy shit, that’s actually kind of scary. Um! No, nevermind, don’t pay attention to me, just keep um, breathing! Breathing is good! Breathing exercises!” He breathes in and out, loud and exaggerated. “See, just like that. I’m just gonna—”

And he puts a hand out, and before Wilbur can stop him, he rests it on his back. Light and cautious, but still too much, and Wilbur stuffs a fist into his mouth to stop himself from screaming. In the same motion, he flinches away, violently, but the damage has already been done. Because the contact hurts, a lot, but what’s worse is the horror, because in the split second that Tommy’s hand touched his skin, he could feel the way that it is wrong, that his back is wrong, that there is something terribly wrong. Because there are ridges protruding from his back, long and thick and raised, and it’s wrong and it hurts and Tommy’s right, actually, this is scary, he’s fucking scared.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Tommy is saying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I won’t do that again, I’m so sorry, Wilbur, are you okay? Please be okay, please—”

He nods, though it’s more like he lets his head fall and then painstakingly brings it back up a little.

“Okay, I think we need—” Tommy says. “I think that I don’t know what to do, so I think we need—” He takes a deep breath. “Phil! Phil!” Loud, panicked, earsplitting. Wilbur winces. “Phil! He is home, isn’t he? Phil!”

A second passes, and then, drifting up from the basement, a distant, “Tommy? Everything good?”

“Phil, get up here right fucking now!”

There is a beat of silence, and then there are footsteps, quiet at first but growing closer, and they are quick, hurried. Phil must have detected the genuine fear in Tommy’s voice, because Tommy and Phil generally stand on very shaky ground with each other, so while Phil will typically indulge Tommy in his whims, it depends on the day as to how far he’ll go, how quick he’ll respond. But it’s only a moment or two before Phil’s head pokes out of the floor, his hands clinging to the ladder, his face twisted in confusion.

“What on earth is the matter?” he asks, and then breaks off as his eyes land on Wilbur, who—he must be a sight. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. But terror flashes across Phil’s face, and he is crossing the floor in an instant, hands hovering over him, fluttering helplessly, though thankfully, he doesn’t touch.

“What’s wrong, where are you hurt, what—” The words come out in a jumbled flurry, but he stops just as abruptly, and Wilbur knows that he is looking at the horror show that is his back.

“It hurts, Phil,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Phil says, sounding—still concerned, but perhaps marginally calmer? “Okay, you’re going to be alright. I think I know what this is.” He settles himself on the couch right next to him and opens his arms, and Wilbur doesn’t hesitate before leaning forward, slumping against him. Phil seems to know better than to put any kind of pressure on his back, and instead places one hand on his arm and the other on the back of his head, threading his fingers through his hair.

“Then what the fuck is it?” Tommy demands.

“Tommy, I need you to run over to Techno’s and ask him for something for pain, and something for sleep. Can you do that for me?” Phil asks instead of answering, and perhaps Wilbur should be terrified by the implication that he’s going to need either of those things, but the promise of some kind of relief overrides any kind of trepidation.

“Like fuck I will,” Tommy says, “Not before you tell me what the fuck is wrong with him!”

Another convulsion wracks him. He bites his lip to keep from crying out, and tastes blood. His breath is hitching, and he can’t stop it.

“Tommy.” Phil’s voice is sharp, but then, Wilbur feels rather than hears him sigh. “It’s wings, I think. I don’t understand why now, but I went through this a long time ago, when I was very young. I recognize the signs. So Tommy, please.”

Tommy makes a surprised little sound. Wilbur isn’t looking, has his face buried in Phil’s shoulder, but he can imagine the look on his face: the slack jaw, the wide open eyes. And then, there are rushed footsteps retreating, and the door slamming, and Tommy’s muffled voice calling out for Technoblade.

And then, Wilbur processes what Phil just said.

He twists his head around so he can see his face, regretting it a moment later. Any kind of movement seems to make the pain worse, and he has to take a moment to tremble through it.

“Wings?” he whispers. “How?”

He’s never had wings.

If he were going to have wings, he would have gotten them a long time ago. He remembers nights spent as a child, staying up and hoping for feathered appendages to somehow miraculously appear on his back, just so he could be more like his dad. He remembers the crushing disappointment when he finally accepted that no matter how much divine blood runs in his veins, it is apparently not enough.

But he did accept it. He accepted it years ago. There is absolutely no reason for him to be developing wings now, as a fully-grown adult, but Phil sounds so very sure, and his back hurts so very much, and perhaps that’s consistent with actual appendages trying to sprout out of him.

“I don’t know,” Phil says. “I’ve never heard of it happening so late, even in avians. Which, I’m not exactly, but I got mine when I was a kid like they do, and I don’t—I don’t know, Wil, I really don’t, but I remember what it was like, yeah? I know what to do. It’s gonna suck for a little while, but you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

“Okay,” he croaks, “okay—” and then he has to stop talking, because the pain flares again, bright and intense and holy shit, but it’s worse this time, because now that he knows what’s going on, he can feel them. He can feel things inside of him, pushing against his muscles and his skin in ways that absolutely should not be possible, and there is too much of him to be contained in his body, and there are things inside of him trying to escape—

It’s almost like the way he gets when he thinks about the void too hard. Except not, because when he does that, he feels the urge to dissolve away, gently and peacefully, to let himself back into the quiet that is not quiet and the darkness that is not dark, where all the knowledge of the world is at his fingertips, too much for a mortal brain to contain and remain sane. That is not this. This is his own body trying to explode. There is no peace, no dissolution; it’s messy and physical and Prime he just wants it to stop.

He shifts in Phil’s grasp, fruitlessly trying to find a position that takes the pressure off, a little bit. It’s no use, of course, because he can still feel something moving under the skin of his back, and his vision whites out, and when he comes back to himself, he’s shivering, shivering and shaking and sobbing in Phil’s hold, and he doesn’t remember when he started crying but he can’t seem to make himself stop. Phil is keeping up a steady stream of soothing nonsense, and he latches onto the sound of his voice like it’s the only lifeline he has.

And then the door bursts open, and Wilbur doesn’t bother trying to look, but there are two sets of footsteps, not just one.

“Here,” Tommy says, panting, and there are several thumps, and several clinks, glass on glass.

“Oh god, don’t—and he’s doing it, he’s just dumping all of that on the floor. Don’t break those, Tommy, those aren’t splash pots. Have you never handled a potion before.” Technoblade pauses for a moment. “So, what exactly’s wrong with him? The child was making no sense at all.”

Wilbur thinks he detects a note of concern. But he’s not thinking clearly, and it’s always hard to tell anyway, with Technoblade.

“He’s got wings growing in,” Phil responds, voice clipped. Wilbur feels his hand leave his arm, and he whines at the loss of touch. And then another spasm, and he whines again, pressing his face harder into Phil’s shirt.

“Oh. Huh. Yes, that makes perfect sense, of course.”

Phil’s arm dips a bit, and Wilbur finds himself being moved, his head gently tilted back. Phil’s face comes into view, pale and blurry.

“You want to drink this for me, Wil?” he says, and then there is glass at his lips, and he parts them immediately. He doesn’t like being knocked out, doesn’t like the loss of control that comes with it, but if he has to be aware for another five minutes, he’s not going to be able to keep himself from screaming aloud.

He swallows, grimacing at the taste. The effects start hitting right away. His mind detaches from himself, and the pain drains from him. Every muscle goes lax.

He exhales.

“There we go,” Phil murmurs, “there we go. It’s gonna be alright, Wil. I’ll be here the whole time. You’re gonna be okay.”

The world falls away. He lets it. He trusts his father to catch him.

----------

He wakes up a few times, and each time, it hurts. Phil is always there, and usually, Tommy too, and sometimes Techno, and he can barely move but they always see that he’s awake, and they give him a potion and he’s under again, and he’s glad for it, because those moments of consciousness are a spiral of pain and confusion and his thoughts flying apart because he barely understands what’s going on or why he’s hurting and he just wants it to go away.

And then there is the time he wakes up and he thinks somebody is cutting his back open, and he can feel his own blood on his skin, sticky and hot, and he thrashes, trying to get away, and that makes the pain so much worse, and the sound that comes out of his mouth is inhuman, and he fights until a potion is poured down his throat and it’s back to sleep again.

And then there is the time he wakes up, and people are talking in low, hushed tones. He can’t make out what they’re saying. He cracks his eyes open, and it’s Phil and Technoblade, deep in some discussion, both looking terribly concerned. He decides he’ll ask what’s wrong later, and then closes his eyes and goes back to sleep again.

And then there is the time he wakes up, and some part of him is moving, and he doesn’t understand what it is because it’s not any of his limbs, not his arms and not his legs, and it feels alien and foreign and his back feels like it’s been shoved under a woodchipper and then tossed through a paper shredder for good measure, and he’s not aware enough to know why, so he panics. There is a bit of the void that still dwells in his heart, and he calls on it, cries out to it, and it answers, comes rushing in around him, and his mind expands to peer into galaxies.

Philza is at his side a moment later, and he is able to look at him and see all the weight of years that lie behind his eyes, and all the years that lie ahead of him, and the moment of his death, all spiraling out like a tapestry and like a mass, and the music is atonal, confused, but a closer glance reveals it to be twelve-tone, order in the chaotic lines. Wilbur is with the void again, and his heart still beats, but it’s a near thing, and he could stop it if he chose.

“Do you want to know, Philza?” he asks, words spilling from his lips like rain, like the river, like the flood. “Do you want to know when it will happen? I can see it. I can see how some part of you wants it. All our histories are like tangled up threads, but they all come to an end, and I can see those endings, Philza, I can tell you about them if you like.”

Pain constricts Philza’s face, and Wilbur doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know who wouldn’t love the void and its peace and its everything.

“I know, Wilbur,” Philza says, “I know, but how about you come back to me now, okay? Come back to me?”

“We’re all little bits of code, Philza,” he informs him. “None of us are real. We’re little bits of code and words on a page and lines in a script written by our better selves. Nothing in this world really matters. We might as well have all the fun we can before the lights go out. Do you want to know when that will be, Philza? Not too long after you, Philza. Not too long at all. I told Tommy, he knows, he didn’t want to know but that’s alright, he’s better off for it, if he hasn’t forgotten.”

“Come back, Wil, come on,” Philza says, “you can do it. You’ve got a heartbeat, do you feel it?”

Philza takes his hand and places it over his heart, and—that’s right. He’s alive. He’d forgotten. The void spins, and then it tucks itself away again, waiting for the next moment he needs it, and he is left with only vague impressions of what he’s just said and a vague idea that everything hurts and something is wrong with his back and he’d like to go to sleep now, please.

“Alright, yeah,” Phil says, “here, you can have this, you can sleep. You’re doing so well, Wil, I promise it’s almost done.”

He takes the potion. Or tries to; Phil has to hold it for him.

“Okay,” he says faintly. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he hears Phil say, very far away. “So long as you come back, everything’s okay.”

He goes back to sleep again. He thinks he wakes up a few more times, but he doesn’t really remember. He doesn’t really want to.

----------

And then: awareness.

The first thing he processes is that everything aches, deeply and acutely, but none of it feels nearly as bad as it did before, and not even as bad as it’s been over the past couple of weeks. It’s irritating, painful, but more than manageable, really, practically a relief. The second thing he processes is that he’s lying on his stomach, and that there is something weighing him down.

His mind puzzles over this for a moment. He tries to roll over, to see what’s going on, but something stops him, and then he remembers: wings.

He’s got wings. There are wings on his back. Growing out of him. A part of his body. Wings.

As soon as he realizes that, he becomes aware of them. And it is so very strange, to suddenly have access to two extra limbs, to suddenly have additional body parts to move about and control. It’s a feeling impossible to describe, and he has to take several minutes to process it, to try to become accustomed to it. It doesn’t really work, but he tries moving them anyway, just a bit of a flex, and—

Ouch.

He groans, shoving his face into the pillow. A mistake. That was a mistake. He’d rather like to go back to sleep now and pretend that none of this is happening.

But his vocalization draws attention, and then there is a hand on his shoulder, gently brushing him just enough to feel, not enough to pain him. He turns his head to the side, reluctantly, and Phil is kneeling beside him, his face open and soft and clearly relieved, his lips curling into a slight smile.

“Hey,” he says. “How you feeling, Wil?”

He considers this, and decides on honesty. “Bit like I’ve been caught between a piston and a wall for the past couple of days,” he admits. “Better than before, though.”

“Good to hear,” Phil says, and then his face goes a bit more serious. “How much of that do you remember?”

“Not much?” he says. “I don’t think? Impressions, I guess. I know I wasn’t having a good time. I’m glad I don’t remember it too clearly. I was out for most of it, yeah?”

“Most of it,” Phil agrees, and Wilbur thinks that perhaps there is something he’s not saying, but he doesn’t feel like pressing the matter. He can guess what it is, anyway; there is a chill in his chest, and his thoughts feel just slightly more fractured than usual, so it’s not hard to assume what might have happened. Not hard to assume where he might have gone. He’s sure he’ll feel terrible about it when everything stops feeling so surreal.

He has wings.

“It’s over now?” he asks, and winces at the way his voice cracks. “It’s done?”

Phil’s eyes do the thing where they go immeasurably soft and crinkly at the edges, and it’s love and relief and sadness all at once. “It’s done,” he agrees, and then hesitates. “You’re not gonna be able to fly on them for a while, but would you like to see?”

He doesn’t understand why Phil is being so cautious about it. Of course he wants to see. If he’s going to be put through hell, he wants to see what came of it. He wants it to be worth it.

“Usually, when wings grow in, they’re all downy and shit. Like a baby bird,” Phil says, probably in response to whatever face he’s sure he’s making. “Flight feathers come in over the next few weeks.” He pauses again, and Wilbur thinks he understands his reticence, now, understands the still-present concern.

“But that’s not what happened with mine,” he states, and Phil shakes his head.

“Yours are fully fledged,” he says. “Probably part of why it hurt so much. I don’t know why, Wil. But do you wanna have a look?”

Wordless, he nods, and Phil takes that as his cue to reach out and help him sit upright. It’s far more effort than it should be, compounded by the fact that his sense of balance feels all wrong, and that’s going to take some getting used to, he can already tell. And he’s sore, like he’s run a marathon or fought another half dozen wars all in one go, and his head spins a little bit when he finally situates himself. He closes his eyes against it, breathing in sharply.

He feels Phil guiding his wings forward, into his field of vision. He opens his eyes.

They are very big, is the first thing he notices. They would have to be, of course, to hold his weight up. Magic and suspension of disbelief only stretches so far. They are very large, and the feathers are very large, and they are very angular and neat as well, so neat that someone has to have arranged them while he was unconscious, because there’s no way that they came out looking like that.

The color, though. The color. He swallows, hard.

They are black, perhaps. They look black. But he knows on an instinctive level that they are black in the same way that the void is black, and that if someone were to stare at them for too long, they would realize as much, would realize that actually, they are not black at all, but rather some color or some lack of color that is beyond human comprehension. The void translates as black to the human mind because it is as close as the human mind can get to true perception, and most of the time, Wilbur remembers it as black, but it was not, and his wings are not, and he is never going to be free of it, is he?

On some level, he knew that. Knew that the void is in him and about him, and no matter what he does, it will never leave him completely, not after all the years he spent with it, intertwined with the infinite nothing. But now he has wings on his back, and they should be a connection between him and Phil, should be something to celebrate, but he stares at the plumage and feels sick to his stomach.

“Wil?” Phil asks. He sounds confused, sounds worried by his reaction. “You okay, mate?”

He’s not sure how to phrase this in a way that Phil will understand. Not sure that he wants to.

“Void,” he manages, voice a broken whisper. “They look like void, Phil.”

He looks up just in time to see Phil’s face crumple.

“Wil—”

“They look just like it, Phil,” he continues. “Just like it. And I know I’m not always good about, about being here, about keeping myself stable, but I’m trying. I try to ignore it when it calls, I try not to reach out to it, and when I fail, I, I try to come back, I do, I swear. I can’t—I can’t have these, Phil, they’re from it, that’s why I’m getting them now, maybe it triggered something, I don’t know, but I can’t, Phil, I can’t—”

He reaches out toward them, intending to do—something, maybe, and Phil must have a better idea than he does, because his hand darts out and snags his, stopping him in his tracks.

“No, Wil, don’t do that, okay? We can work on it, we’ll figure it out, but please don’t—”

“You’re up!”

He and Phil both freeze, and as one, look to the door. Tommy is standing there, grinning like nobody’s business, and Technoblade is lurking behind him, his face contorted into an expression that looks like he wants to murder someone but really just means he’s feeling very awkward.

Tommy glances back and forth between the two of him, and his face slowly falls.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. “Nothing—I mean, it all went right, didn’t it?”

He blinks. Tilts his head slightly. Gently removes his hand from Phil’s grasp, and then spreads out his wings behind him, putting them on full display, as far out as he can make them go, and it aches and he’s not going to be able to hold them there for long, but it’s worth it. He wants Tommy to see. Because Tommy will know. Tommy remembers. And unlike him, Tommy hates to remember. Tommy hates the void. So perhaps this is an act of self-sabotage. That’s what Captain Puffy would say. But he does it anyway, because he wants someone else to see and understand, understand in a way he knows Phil won’t be able to.

“I’ve got void wings, Tommy,” he says, and a smile splits his face. “See them?”

Tommy’s eyes widen, and he flinches.

Gratification is not nearly as sweet as he thought it would be. Actually, he just sort of feels like crying.

But then, Tommy’s brows draw together. And he steps further into the room, coming closer and closer until he’s standing right up against the bed, staring at the feathers. Wilbur holds himself very still.

“I see,” Tommy says slowly, “but Wilbur, I’m not sure you do.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and cranes his neck to try to see whatever Tommy’s looking at. For a moment, he doesn’t; there’s just the feathers, void feathers, death feathers, a reminder that—

But arctic sunlight slants through the window, and if he shifts his angle just a little bit—

The noise that escapes him is small and involuntary. He hopes no one calls him on it, but that’s the least of his concerns right now. Because the colors do not change, not exactly, but if he holds them to the light, the sun illuminates the feathers, haloing their edges in gold, and there is a sheen of color running across them, a sheen that ripples and moves as he shifts them in the sunbeam, and it is a beautiful, rich blue.

And they’re lovely.

“Oh,” he says, and Tommy laughs at him, the fucking gremlin.

“Yeah, fucking oh,” he says. “You’re such a moron. They’re so fucking ace, Wilbur.”

“I think that maybe you need to work on rememberin’,” Technoblade says from the doorway, “that you’re the sum of all your experiences, and not just one.”

Wilbur stares at him.

“Oh my god,” he finally says. “That’s so cheesy. Who the hell are you and what have you done with Technoblade?”

“Alright,” Techno grumbles, “see if I do anythin’ nice for you ever again. I didn’t come up here to receive this kind of treatment. This is an outrage.”

He laughs. He laughs, from the sheer relief of it, and his trepidation is melting away like snow in the sunshine, and he can allow himself to revel in it, to revel in the wings on his back, and he is sore and tired but this is what glory feels like, maybe, and perhaps he can fly into the air and there will be no wax to drip away.

Perhaps these wings are of the void, but they are of him, too.

And he looks to Phil again, and Phil is smiling at him, warm and happy. His own wings are flared out behind him, tattered at the edges, so many feathers torn or still missing entirely, and the more time that passes, the more and more likely it is that those feathers are never going to grow back, that Phil truly will never fly again. Phil has already resigned himself to it, he knows, but Wilbur has never given up hope, will never be able to bring himself to give up hope.

“It’s not fair that I can fly when you can’t,” he says quietly, and the room goes still and quiet. Especially when it’s my fault, he doesn’t say, though he knows everyone hears it.

“Wil,” Phil says, “nothing could bring me more joy than this.”

And Wilbur hears what he means: you, here.

So he flexes his wings and revels in the ache and revels in the sunshine and revels at his family, here, his father sitting by him and his friend-protege-brother poking at curiously at his feathers and Technoblade still in the doorway, not leaving even for all his grumbling. He revels in this, revels in this life, and for a time, the void recedes entirely.

And in its wake is the sunlight.

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unpretty · 3 years

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astielle chapter 27 ask dump!

@ivylaughed asked:

The thing that keeps getting me about Chapter 26 is Leonas in the dream. He's finally got privacy. He can be himself unobserved. And he's soft and he's tentative. And it's okay! He can take it slow because no one is going to take that time away from him! No time limits, just however long they travel and dream together! The way he's slowly almost leaning into Karzarul's chest makes my heart clench. I love the contrast between how he can be in his dream and his waking self. <3

that conversation gave me A Lot of trouble until i figured out he could not have it around minnow (for the same reason he makes her cover her ears later)

anonymous asked:

I'm sure the rest of the chapter is going to be great but I had to stop 6 paragraphs in b/c OW. WHY.

anonymous asked:

the willow tree!!! the willow tree!!!!!!!!!

anonymous asked:

Kitty, the cabin with the tree. omg, the cabin and the freaking tree. Was that Vaelon's? Did Karzarul build it for when he "came back"? I was not prepared for the whiplash between trauma moment and face-fucking bondage, and I still have not recovered from the freaking willow tree moment.

@gentlyouttatime asked:

leonas immediately recognizing the willow tree and getting them to leave was so good!! the hand squeeze train was also very cute

violet and leonas are like the same hat meme except it's 'avoidant trauma responses' and also karzarul's wearing the hat over his eyes so he can't see shit and violet is spotting for him

anonymous asked:

Boyfriend (transitive property)

@hehehe426 asked:

*communism bugs bunny* our boyfriend

@purple-hel asked:

"I'd know if I was hungry" "You think you're tired and mad all the time for no reason" Listen, ma'am, I did not ask to be called out like this!

@cannedinternets asked:

“I’m not even hungry.”“You’re always hungry.”“I don’t know why you keep saying that,” Leonas said. “I’d know if I was hungry.”“No,” Minnow said. “You think you’re tired and mad all the time for no reason.” Hey uuuuuh this just took me out at the knees like a tripwire. Good news tho i ate a sammich and feel better now.

loving how many people felt dragged by this

@makadragontamer asked:

The goddesses had to nerf leonas with low self esteem cause he'd be too powerful and sexy otherwise (also all of that was kinks I knew I had and it Still felt like a revelation good job)

anonymous asked:

LEONAS ALLOWED TO DIRTY TALK PROPERLY FOR THE FIRST TIME AND HE DOES THAT. I knew this chapter was gonna be good but I was not prepared

it has been on his mind for. A While.

@sailor-lady asked:

Somewhere Vi is *smirking*

@opalescent-potato asked:

fucking superb, absolutely sublime facefucking, thank you.

@ghostly-squid asked:

What ARE monster horns for if not to provide convenient handles?!? Congrats to Leonas to figuring out Karzarul's got a praise kink despite his attempts to convince himself that of COURSE the Monster King doesn't have a praise kink! (Also, I'm laughing at Leonas being all "of COURSE you have more sexual experience than me!" Wait til he hears about the Real Life pirate orgies!) ... as much as I love cheese, a cheese-based diet is not... nutritionally balanced? The whole "too much Sunlight is bad for you" makes it seem like a weird religion-centered explanation for something people figured out by "what kind of diet doesn't cause health problems" OR Leonas's dad made it up, in which case, too much Sunlight is maybe good for Leonas??? He is solar powered, but does sun bathing give him a boost or something? That would be fun! It would also make the whole "locked in a tower" thing Magically Worse, again!

;3c

@adorkable1291 asked:

Sooooo fucking hot omg!! Everything about this was so lovely and cute and sexy and HOT! Love their dynamic, the chats they have through it all! It’s so nice to see the convos/mistakes/checking in too. Makes it really feel like actual people. Your writing is awesome!!

anonymous asked:

I love how much fun and humor you add in your sex scenes - the moment where Karzarul projects his voice because he doesn't realize Leonas is trying to be sexy and everyone's reaction to it was so genuinely delightful, as well as the running "your boyfriend/ourboyfriend" joke. It's so fun and makes the rest of the scene shine even more

@justconstantly asked:

"she can hear what I don't say" "I've begun to care about you very much, which does not mean I like you" *SCREAMS* vulnerable Leonas hours but then we immediately pretend it never happened amiright Also shiiiitttt was that house they went to first where Ari raised that kid hero? I gotta go reread apparently. Another great chapter as usual! Thank you for writing

the willow tree has come up before, but never the cabin!

@rose-and-bones asked:

“When she’s biting me, she’s your girlfriend.” There are too many perfect moments! I'm dying!!! And it makes me so happy to see Karzarul being treated with love and care. He deserves it <3 <3 <3

anonymous asked:

"It also occurred to him that trying to get Minnow to act like she lived in a society since they were young may have negatively impacted his sense of what constituted an acceptable thing to say to a person while his dick was out." Holy shit I'm dead this line has murdered me I love your writing

we can only imagine the extent of the crisis he had the first time they had a teacher-student moment that was also a massive turn-on

@revirag asked:

Trauma hits Karzarul in the face like pies hit clowns. Sadly I can't add a gif here, but I hope the idea still gets through Other than that: very sexy threesome, Leonas being a Dom makes me feel things. And imagine how hot Lynette and Karzarul would have been, you know, if they ever got over antagonizing each other. Or maybe even without it.. I am not supporting BDSM as therapy, but come on, it might have worked for them. Other than that: i love Minnow caring for both of her boyfriends. So soft

the au where lynette got over her hangups and just fucked the monster would solve a lot of problems, and create a lot of new ones. maybe karzarul would even have dealt with that thing where he lowkey thinks of 'tall woman with a sword' as its own distinct and terrifying gender

#original #astielleblogging #writeblogging #astielle spoilers

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toujoursmiraculous · 3 years

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Thoughts and Reaction to SIMPLEMAN

A day late but that's what happens when good subs aren't out until the next day, and you're busy that day. This episode is so sweet and wholesome that it was worth it, for sure. I'm still not sure which one is Ella and which one is Etta. They're always addressed together so I just don't know, but I'd like to. ;-; (Note: Looked it up on Wikia, the one in pink with seafoam earrings is Etta, the one in seafoam and pink earrings is Ella) See Nino knows. Nino's concerned about Marinette babysitting three kids already. He lives with one all the time, times that by 4 and WOO that's crazy. Sweet of her to want to ensure her best friend has some time to relax with her boyfriend. Oh. OH those poor Kwami! Especially Fluff and her ears being pulled like a game of tug-of-war! I can see it now, Fluff now traumatized by young kids. So if Alix ever has any in the future, they better grow up knowing about Fluff right away or she's in for a horror show. PV TRAILER AND MUSIC! I'm such a fan of the music and the PV that when my sister told me about it, it made me even more excited for this episode than I already was. And I was very excited already! Manon: So? Aren't you going to answer it? She knows what's up. So Adrien's calling asking Marinette to help sew on a wing? Because nobody else there can do it? I dunno, sounds kind of sus to me, Adrien. Are you sure you're not using that as an excuse just to see your "friend"?

Marinette's biggest problem is thinking so far ahead in her brain that when she goes to speak, she's either way far ahead of herself or gets everything mixed up as it comes out of her mouth. If she just lived in the moment and didn't plan (which being Ladybug that's probably very hard not to do outside the costume), she'd be able to do this and overcome that fear of rejection as well. She seems to have that part fairly taken care though. When Gina said she was in China to learn Kung Fu and met a girl that reminded her of Marinette, instantly thought about Fei. How could it not be her? Rolland gets asked to babysit, immediately is like "Let's do something fun and dangerous!" Tom must have had an interesting childhood with Rolland and Gina. o.o Clearly Rolland doesn't realize who the heroes are based on. Or just completely forgot he met them when Bakerix. xD Adrien's so sweet with Marinette, even if he can't understand a single thing she says. That's adorable. But a really good way to thank her could've been "Would you stay and watch the photoshoot, and then maybe we could go do something fun/get something to eat after?" BOOM. Problems solved. But I have a feeling this may come back later, and maybe that would turn out better. Marinette's grandparents tend to give Hawk Moth/Shadowmoth the most sass and trouble in comparison to other Parisians. XD Rolland is so sweet to these kids, and they are so caring towards him. It's so wholesome! Just think: if that helicopter wasn't crashing behind her, she would've screamed she loved Adrien. So close. Simpleman is the chillest akuma. Being all "Hey kids, even though I'm akumatized, let's go out into the city!" and the kids are like "Yeah, okay. Hey let's get ice cream!"

Him protecting them from all the flying pizza boxes that guy was throwing around everywhere was super sweet too. LB and CN: Things are complicated. So we should find Shadow Moth directly. Let's run around the city screaming for him to come find us so we can fight him! I seriously think if Chat Noir or Ladybug brought up the fact that their identities made things complicated, they would've revealed themselves right then and there. LOL at the old school fighting and them behaving like young children xD "NO!" "I'm NaNa, ClaCla is no longer with NaNa! Paris is really messy! BuggyBug, KittyKity, help us!" Oh this is going to be so hilarious in the English dub with the voice actress who also voices Nathalie. XDDD A bouncy ball is very complicated for Ladybug. That a literal 5 year old can figure out. Wow this villain's power sure did a number on her. xD I find it all the more stressful actually, that Chat Noir and Ladybug can remember what they were doing the whole time they were affected by the akuma. That means if Marinette said she loved him, or they revealed their identities, there would be no going back or being able to make an excuse for it. Can we just talk about how those kids could understand that the reason he wants things to be simple and is upset that the world is so different, is because it scares him and he doesn't think he's capable of learning and changing with the world? A majority of adults these days can't even take two seconds to try to understand someone else's situation(s) before judging and being outright nasty people towards them. Yet these kids were able to do so. And a lot of kids actually are like they are in real life. Some may see this as an episode just for kids to appreciate, but there's a lot in here that's aimed at adults, too. Adults need reminders and these lessons just as much, if not more so than young kids. It's adults that lose their way and needed to be reminded of it, as they have a greater immediate impact on the world. I've seen so many people judge Rolland, make assumptions about him which is almost always the very worst things they could think of. But this episode shows how caring and willing to learn and understand he really is, he was just hiding behind his fear of change and not being able to keep up with it. Some lessons in this episode for the adult viewers are: -You're never too old to learn, get over your fears, try new things, become a better person, and see things through new eyes. -Don't over-complicate or overthink, but don't be lazy and think keeping everything simple will actually in reality be the answer, sometimes it can make things worse! -Kids tend to see the world as things are, not what they think it should be, or believing they're the center of the universe like adults tend to do. -Being wise means knowing that regardless of your field, educational background, age, or lived experiences, you don't know everything, there is always more for you to learn about everything out there. The kids in this show are quite wise, as they know that there is so much they don't know and how they treat learning new things. They also know how adults tend to understand, or act like they understand everything, so we as adults aren't used to it when we don't and react negatively to that because it scares us when we don't know. In that way, this episode was very brilliant! Also that hug at the end, oh you can bet these kids are going to want to go visit Grandpa Rolland, and honestly I'd love to see bits of them here and there, their bonds are adorable and they've changed his life in such a positive way. Also the pure Ladynoir without another hero or Alya or any kind of upsetting situation was honestly such a breath of fresh air! Maybe not the kind of Ladynoir people wanted, but it made me happy. Marinette acknowledged her problem is she's scared of Adrien rejecting her. First step is admitting it! Can't blame her for not being able to do what she wanted, she only just realized the issue after all. It's going to take a little time now to work on it! Is it just me, or

does it seem Adrien's almost trying not to laugh when she was messing up and then asked if he liked fishing? XD Maybe it was the actors tone with the facial expression but it seemed that way! But the way he just watches her run away and does that adorable little chuckle... Oh Adrien, we really need you to start realizing why you keep doing that. "She (Ladybug) reminds me of your grandmother and you know what? You look exactly like her (Ladybug)." Well. Oop. He's onto you! Apparently Rolland isn't blind, as not a single character suspected her from her personality or appearance to be Ladybug so far. Even Adrien only began piecing it together due to circumstances (and his own personal wish that Marinette is LB, you can't convince me otherwise this isn't true). This is going to come back later, possibly Dearest Family? Overall such a good episode with a lot of things in it, if you decide to watch without high expectations or biases. After all the angst lately, it was certainly needed as a nice change of pace.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml spoilers #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers season 4 #simpleman #simpleman spoilers #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #rolland dupain #chris lahiffe #ella cesaire #etta cesaire #manon chamack #toujoursmiraculous' thoughts and reactions #thoughts and reactions

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