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peachyomega · 1 month

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Askew 💕

Summary: STRICKPAGE (Taking place 2 weeks after Revolution)

This is a follow up to my other fic Love Me Not, but you don't have to read that one to enjoy this one.

I posted this briefly to Ao3 but took it down. I feel more comfortable posting here.

Rating: NC-17

Characters: Hangman Adam Page X Swerve Strickland

Warnings: Bondage, Desperate Longing, Slight Dom/Sub, Mirror Play, Tragic Bfs, Sad Boy Hours

Words: 2228

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Swerve stood before the costume racks and sighed bitterly. Someone had come in during the show to “tidy up”. They had taken all of the clothing Swerve had left strewn across the locker room floor, and hung it all up. “Great. So fucking helpful.” he grumbled.

Deciding there was nothing else for it, Swerve began sorting his things from what was on the racks and removing them from the hangers to toss into his bag. He must have been doing this a little too aggressively since he heard a stitch pop at the shoulder of one of his newer sweaters as he pulled it down. He cursed under his breath and threw the thing roughly into his duffel.

He had brought out more things than he usually did because he could not decide on an outfit for his run-in that night. He and Prince Nana spent nearly an hour before his cue trying on different combinations of clothes, with Swerve snapping at Nana more than once. Swerve wanted to look as tough and intimidating as possible while also showing an edge of sex appeal. He had ultimately decided on his big, black, fur lined coat (oiled, bare chest underneath) and paired it with some distressed boot cut jeans that looked straight out of 2003. The y2k era’s aesthetics were returning to the fashion world, and he thought he resembled a character from a Blade or Underworld movie in his getup, which suited him just fine.

He had watched his entrance on the monitors afterward and felt he had nailed the vibe he was going for well enough, but even so he didn’t feel very pleased with himself, or with anything really. Something dark that he was failing to suppress was itching away at the back of his mind, casting a gloom over his mood, and causing him to have a bubbling, frustrated anger toward practically everything else. Even Nana had left the venue early without him, likely aware that would have been the best bet for him tonight.

Swerve had no one he could talk to about what was bothering him, which made the situation feel all the more looming and hopeless, coupled with the fact that he was pissed at himself for even feeling this way… About him…

It had been two weeks since they’d last seen each other. Two weeks since their post-show tryst in the hallway. Two weeks, and yet Swerve could still remember exactly how his rival’s lips had tasted. He found himself having involuntary flashbacks of that night almost constantly. It was to the point that he was spending his days in an unfocused, frustrated haze, and his nights in a writhing mess in his sheets. He was unable to escape his fixation on the cowboy, even in his dreams.

Swerve’s eyes landed on his gold and silver arm warmers lying amongst the mess of clothing on the floor, and he stooped to pick them up. He ran his fingers along the smooth, stretchy fabric and watched how it shimmered in the locker room lights. He recalled random memories of the last time he’d worn them, including an image of his fingers grasping soft, golden curls…

“Fuck!” Swerve shouted in frustration, tossing the gear away from him. Did his every thought have to be so consumed with Hangman? He didn’t even know when he’d see him again, and he missed him this much already? A part of him felt so lost. His and Adam’s feud had dominated the better part of the last 6 months of his life, and to be completely cut off from it all now seemed cruel. Swerve felt like he was infected by his heartache. Like he was actually sick with a disease he had no idea how to cure. As his misery threatened to boil over he heard a soft shuffling behind him.

Before he could react, he felt warm palms spread across his upper back and linger for a moment before they pushed him forward roughly. Swerve’s chest collided with the wide, wooden locker door in front of him, and his breath came out in a whoosh. He tried to turn himself around, but his wrist was grabbed and his arm was twisted and pushed into his lower back, pinning him in place. Swerve cried out in pain and protest before he felt another hand wrap around his locs and pull, forcing his head back.

It only took a moment for Swerve’s surprise to turn into fury, and he began struggling forcefully to free himself until he felt lips against his ear, and breath on his neck. “Swerve…” his assailant whispered.

Swerve froze. He tried to turn his head, his eyes bending back as far as they could to try to catch a glimpse of who was behind him, but he didn’t need to see him to know. “Adam?” He asked breathlessly.

Adam didn’t respond, but drove his knee between Swerve’s legs from behind, and bent down to retrieve something from the floor. As he straightened up, he pressed a kiss to Swerve’s bare shoulder. “Give me your other arm.” He said.

Swerve hesitated. His mind was still trying to comprehend the situation he was in, but it seemed his body wasn’t struggling to understand at all. The small contact of Adam’s warm mouth against his bare skin was enough to make his cock begin to stiffen with excitement, and he decided to give in to what Adam had asked of him.

He let his right arm go slack and Adam immediately snatched it up and began wrapping something around both of his wrists, binding them. “What are you…?” Swerve began to ask, before Adam shushed him. Once Swerve was properly bound, Adam leaned in to press his body against him. He ground his hips against Swerve’s ass, and Swerve felt Adam’s cock growing hard against him before his hands began roaming over his body.

Keeping Swerve pinned between himself and the door, Adam groped him all over. First his chest, then his sides, his stomach, and his hips. He squeezed him hard there and thrust his own hips against him roughly. His hands wandered hungrily back up to Swerve’s chest and he began rubbing and flicking his nipples until Swerve whimpered so softly Adam barely heard it.

“I think you can do better than that…” Adam murmured against Swerve’s ear. “I want you to moan for me.”

Adam reached down and smoothed his hand over Swerve’s growing erection, causing him to gasp. Swerve closed his eyes and let his head fall back against Adam’s shoulder as he rubbed his cock through his jeans.

Suddenly Adam yanked on Swerve’s bound wrists and spun him away from the wall. He walked him over to stand in front of the locker room mirror, staying behind him.

As he took in their reflection, Swerve’s eyes found Adam’s and he wanted so badly in that moment to turn around and kiss the cowboy. Two weeks had been far too long to go without seeing him after all they had been through, and Swerve didn’t look away from Adam as he undid Swerve’s pants with one hand, peeling them away from his hard cock.

Once it was free, Adam took it in hand and squeezed, which caused Swerve to cry out a low moan. Adam’s eyes fluttered shut at the sound “Good…” he praised.

Adam began slowly working his hand up and down Swerve’s shaft, watching Swerve closely in the mirror. His other hand wrenched down on Swerve’s wrists again, forcing his back to arch.

A pleased half smile played on Adam’s lips as he watched his captive’s body strain and bend in the mirror’s reflection. He picked up his pace on Swerve’s cock as he said “You look so good tonight, Swerve. So fucking good.”

Swerve could do little more than pant in response. Adam was showing zero restraint in the attention he was giving his cock, which was now leaking warm precum. His hands slid slick and quick over Swerve’s cock over and over, faster and faster, almost like he was trying to overstimulate him on purpose.

As the sensations were starting to become too much, Swerve cried out again, much louder than the before, and thrashed against Adam’s hold.

Adam bore down on Swerve’s wrists again to make him go still, but he finally stopped touching him. They both watched as Swerve’s wet, swollen cock bounced and throbbed in response to its sudden release. Adam chuckled darkly. “Did you miss me?” He asked, turning his face toward Swerve’s and planting a biting kiss against his neck.

Swerve worked to catch his breath for a moment before responding. “Yes… Why are you back?”

Adam met Swerve’s eyes again in the mirror. “It’s been hard for me to stay away, suspended or not. I missed you, too.”

With that, he moved in closer and guided Swerve’s face to his. He kissed him, long and deep.

Swerve met Adam’s lips eagerly. Kissing Adam like this felt like the first sip of water after a long drought, like the first gasping breath after almost drowning.

He lost himself in Adam’s mouth, his tongue writhing out from between his lips to caress his lover’s. Adam responded by forcing his tongue into Swerve’s mouth, licking anything inside of him that he could reach. They went on like this with increasing intensity until Adam’s hand resumed its hold of Swerve’s cock. Swerve moaned into the cowboy’s mouth as he went, and this time it wasn’t long until Swerve felt like he was about to cum. He tried to keep kissing him, but Adam broke away and returned his eyes to the mirror. “Watch yourself as you cum, baby.” He said.

Swerve watched Adam’s face in the mirror before his gaze drifted lower, taking in the sight of Adam’s hand pumping away at him. Adam watched, too, as Swerve’s hips seemed to shudder and a series of massive cum jets burst out of his cock, falling sloppily to the floor and soaking Adam’s hand. Swerve moaned and spasmed through each one, but kept his eyes on himself just as Adam had instructed.

When he was done, Adam released him, and he sank to his knees on the floor, panting. Swerve lifted his head to look over at Adam, but was surprised to be met with his hard cock being shoved into his face instead. Adam guided the tip past Swerve’s lips and into his panting mouth.

Swerve coughed at first, shocked at the abrupt invasion, but he quickly recovered after hearing the noises Adam made in response to feeling his tongue. He pushed his tongue out of his mouth to lick along Adam’s full length. Adam pushed himself deeper into the mouth his tongue had just explored so thoroughly moments before.

Swerve caught sight of himself in the mirror. Hands still bound behind his back, pants falling down his hips, his used cock still glistening with cum while his lover thrust himself into his mouth, all the while kneeling in his own mess. He felt desired, sexy, and slutty in the kind of way that only passionate, dirty fucking could make him feel, and he loved it.

He rolled his eyes up to watch Adam’s face, let his jaw go slack and his tongue hang out, opening his throat up to take Adam deeper.

Adam panted and whimpered as he thrust into Swerve’s lewd, drooling mouth. He tried to keep his strokes short, but Swerve seemed to want to take him as deep as he possibly could, and Adam couldn’t hold on for long.

Swerve gagged a little as Adam came down the back of his throat, hot cum filling him up to the point that he couldn’t draw breath. Adam lingered inside him a little too long once he was spent, and Swerve had to pitch forward, coughing and spitting onto the floor as he tried to catch his breath.

Adam leaned down next to him “Are you alright?” he asked. He moved to untie Swerve’s hands. He had used one of Swerve’s gold and silver arm warmers to bind him. He took the thing and tossed it back across the room.

Swerve rubbed his wrists, which he now realized were sore. Adam reached out and took them instead, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into Swerve’s skin.

He gave Swerve a small smile.

All at once Swerve became overwhelmed. He felt tears begin to prickle behind his eyes, and he lunged forward to wrap Adam up in his arms. Adam was startled for a moment, but wrapped his arms around Swerve, too. They sat in their embrace for several moments while Swerve’s tears silently stained Adam’s black T shirt. “What’s wrong?” Adam finally asked. “I’m sorry I was so rough with you, I just wanted–”

Swerve cut him off. “It’s fine. That’s not it. I’m sorry, I just– I’m so happy to see you. Too happy. Adam… I know it was only two fucking weeks, but… Don’t leave me alone for that long again, okay?” He gave Adam a weak smile, the overhead lights making the tears on his lashes sparkle.

Adam’s smile was wide, and he chuckled low in his chest. “Okay, I promise. Fuck a suspension! My bitter rival needs to see me on a regular basis, and who am I to deny him?.”

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Thanks for reading 🥰

#aew #strickpage #hangman adam page #swerve strickland #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #hangman x swerve #hangman adam page x swerve strickland #swerve when i ride

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prince-kallisto · 1 year

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Saguaro and 1950s Femininity vs Masculinity

So, I was working on doing another clothing analysis (as I did with Larry’s suit), this time for Saguaro. However, the more I delved into Saguaro’s style, I realized how deep his insecurity lies, just through his clothes! Each piece of clothing connected more and more with the 1950s, the point I decided to make a separate post for the historical references. I will be making a post dedicated to analyzing his clothes though! ^_^

Quick disclaimer: I am not an expert in fashion or history, this is from my own personal knowledge, research, and passion on the topic. If there are any corrections or additions you’d like to make, please let me know!

Pokémon has lately been experimenting with more cultures outside of Japan, and has long history with Pokémon US. Even in the original Red and Blue, we have Lt. Surge aka the “Lightning American.” This trend continues within Saguaro, whose outfit immediately struck me as being inspired from American 1950s fashion.

The pink, yellow, and purple of his blouse is reminiscent of the 1950s color palette. These colors dominated interior design, fashion, and cars. The vertical stripes in his blouse were also a booming design trend in the 50s. French fashion was a huge inspiration to both Europe and America at the time, so it appeared in women’s clothing a lot. Now, the pink and yellow stripes give off a nearly-dated and sentimental look. But with his pants and shoes, he pulls it together in a contemporary, cute outfit (my future fashion analysis will go in-depth on this).

He wears a pink hair bow and his apron is adorned with a purple one. Again, bows were all in the rage in the 50s, especially as film stars like Audrey Hepburn influenced the fashion world. The bows were subtle and dainty, decorating the hair, waist, and neckline. It’s very significant that he wears an apron, one that even has a homemade touch. See the cute patches? The stitching on them implies he must have sewn them on himself. Anyways, the apron is practically the symbol of the 50s housewives.

When you think of the American 1950s, the image of the Housewife is probably what comes to mind. And although the role of the Housewife was, in reality, grueling, the romanticization still had a huge impact. America was in the Post War era, with men returning to their homes and families. As such, more women began to return to the household, as during the war, women took up the empty positions in the workforce. Not only did American ideals wanted people to revert back to the perfect family, the 50s was the period of the Cold War. It was basically a culture battle between America and Russia, which gave America all the more reason to spread their propaganda of the perfect, nuclear family. And as such, the feminine, submissive homemaker who kept the house tidy and had dinner ready with a smile. All while keeping up on latest fashion trends, of course. This was the made-up norm, not the reality, but the way it influenced gendered roles was irreparable.

This is not to say that Japanese culture has nothing to do with though. Quite the opposite in fact: it’s the key to understanding Saguaro’s insecurities. Post World War II, Japan started taking more influences from Western culture than ever, the boom starting around 1945. The Sengyo-shufu (専業主婦) was rising in popularity, meaning the “full-time housewife.” However, this was met with a controversial reception by Japanese women.

In 1955, an essay critiquing the housewife was submitted to a feminist magazine called Fujin Kōron (Women’s Review). The housewife, according to this essay, was a lazy consumer that only gossiped with other housewives, while her husband did all the dirty work. (I’d like to note how Saguaro says his classroom is a place where students gossip. He also considers his Home Ec classroom is be a “palace.”)

This sparked a scandalous debate (ronsō) in the magazine through essays, nicknamed the Housewife Debate, primarily between women. It went on from 1955 to 1979, through AT LEAST 33 essays. Since it was a feminist magazine, both Japanese working women and housewives were reading through this debate of what their role should be. Several essays defended housewives, while others took a neutral stance and said the home, kitchen, and work place weren’t gendered places. But as these were a product of passion, both working women and housewives were heavily insulted and criticized in these essays, pitting both sides against each other.

But what does Saguaro have to do with the 1950s and housewives??

Everything.

Saguaro symbolizes, and is a product of, the Housewife Debate and American propaganda. The pink, the apron, the bows: Definitely a subversion of what you would expect from an imposing man like him. But these aspects play into the image of the 1950s housewife. And as he’s the teacher of Home Economics, I don’t think it’s a coincidence.

But wait, (somehow) this isn’t all! Back to his outfit, let’s consider the loafers and suspenders. Generally masculine fashion that’s considered old-fashioned. Saguaro gives it a contemporary twist with the silver buckles, but it’s still very traditional, very gentlemanly. I’d like to note how the suspenders are holding up the apron.

With everything I discussed, you can see the conflicting ideals in his outfit; the mesh of traditionally masculine and feminine pieces. Saguaro is stuck in time with his perceptions of what a man is supposed to be, and his clothing reflects his beliefs. It’s why there’s references to the heavily-gendered 1950s

I know for a fact it isn’t a coincidence, because in this amazing post by @shinyhappydigistar, I learned that in Japanese, Saguaro uses an archaic pronoun: wagahai. It was used by masculine authority figures that demand respect. It’s also very arrogant. He’s trying to project his idea of masculinity as an attempt to hide his feminine interests.

Saguaro is deeply insecure about himself and the role he’s “supposed” to play as a man. It’s clear he loves what he does, but when it comes to how others see him, he’s terrified of others finding out. He even says so himself that he has some narrow-minded views. Embarrassment over liking sweets and cute things doesn’t come out of no where.

Here, he says “I’ve spent my entire life trying to maintain the image that others have of me.” It’s an insecurity stemming from his childhood, as something he must have experienced from the adults around him. Of course, we know very little of him in canon, but these lines imply incredibly important things about his character.

The history is important to consider in a multi-faceted way, because these subjects are complicated. Especially with characters like Saguaro, who seem to have grown up with a strict binary of gender expression. He is the “gruff yet homey” Mr. Saguaro, and he’s having trouble accepting both sides of himself. He’s pitting his perception of masculine and feminine ideals against each other, instead of accepting the fact he likes both.

I hope this provided some character insight, I was really shocked the more I broke down his outfit! But maybe that’s just me haha (*⁰▿⁰*) It bums me out that character design, especially clothing, is underestimated in media communication. There’s A LOT to be said in a character’s clothes- deliberately drawn. Pokémon is a shining example of this, as I’m also learning through this analysis journey. Saguaro is an incredibly complicated character built from complicated history and self-expression. A lot of love was put into all of the SV characters, each going through their own journeys in life, making them more real than ever. I hope you liked it! ^_^

#pokemon saguaro #mr saguaro #saguaro #pokemon sv #he’s in suuuuuch conflicted agony <3 #pls he’s so underrated #analysis #kallistopost #long post

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love-on-mars · 11 months

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I know this is a silly request but I need a Mick Mars x reader where they pretend to be vampires! Please it would be so cute. And the reader can even do Mick’s makeup before one of his shows and they can just be so fun and lovey! Ahh I just need vampire Mick! (If you can can you make it Shout At The Devil era Mick) thank you!

I’m so sorry this took so long! I just finished my senior year of HS so I’ve been busy, but now I’ll have more time to write! I really hope I did this right, enjoy!

Warnings: none, just fluff

Alien? No, Vampire.

Halloween night, a usually chaotic one filled to the brim with skimpy outfits, copious amounts of fake blood, excessive drinking and constant sugar highs. Add all of that with a Motley Crue concert and you’ve got yourself one hell of a night.

You lived for Halloween, dressing up every year and having the time of your life. This year brought something new to add to it, your alien rockstar boyfriend Mick Mars.

Usually Mick always grumbled when you pulled him into things, but it just so happens he loves Halloween too…

“Soooo I had an idea…..” you walked up to Mick slowly as he prepared to go to the venue for the concert. “Oh no, you? Thinking? What an awful idea!” He snickered as you hit his arm playfully. “I was thinking, since you and I both love horror movies and tonight is Halloween…you and I could dress up for the concert? I have costumes already picked out!” You say while you grab the vampire costumes and hold them up excitedly.

Mick stared at them for a minute and smirked, “Vampire costumes?” He laughed. “Yes! You’ve always given off undead bloodsucker vibes!”

“Alright” he smiled, loving your enthusiasm towards not only the holiday, but also himself.

Sitting backstage, you sit in Micks lap doing his makeup. You almost finish when Doc McGee knocks and opens the door.

“Mick? Why are you wearing that? The show will start soon!” He questions, pointing towards the Shout at the devil attire. “It’s Halloween, Doc” he dryly replied in typical Mars fashion, making you giggle.

Doc sighed, “you’ll look out of place, but I can’t stop you. As long as you put on a great show I don’t care.” He says as he leaves. “You hear that? You’ll be the focus tonight instead of the others” you say as you dismount his lap, showing him the pale and bloody makeup you applied.

Mick didn’t respond to your comment, only stating “it looks great, love”. You take out a small case and glue on the fake fangs for him. He looks at you and gives a ‘Mars face’ while going for your neck.

“Don’t ruin the look before the show!” You laugh, lightly pushing him away. “But I want to suck your blood!” He exclaimed, doing an awful Dracula impression.

“Mars! You’re on in ten!” A voice boomed from outside. You look at him, “go get ‘em Marsman”. He nods and heads out, while you smile mischievously as you go to your bag to put on your costume and makeup.

After the show, Mick ran back to the dressing room. “Hey where we’re you? Everyone loved it! The guys thought it was hilarious, said it was the most ‘Mars’ thing they’ve seen in a while.” He looked around to a darkened room, he then felt two hands wrap around him. “Mwahaha!” You laugh out, “your mine now, Mars!”.

Mick spun around, marveling at your costume. It was more revealing as opposed to his, which was more traditional. “Mmm sexy vampire doll…” he cheekily mumbled out, placing his hands on your hips. Kissing your cheek he holds you close as he moves down to your neck, leaving little loves bites before sucking on it hard.

“Mick! You’re so silly!” You laugh as he pretends to suck your blood. He stops and looks up at you, smiling. “What can I say? Vamps gotta feed.” He smiles.

You both head home, and binge watch horrors movies whilst Intaking a very unhealthy amount of candy. Eventually you fall asleep against Mick, he picked you up and brought you into bed. Deciding against undressing you and removing your makeup for giggles, he lays down next to you after changing his clothes. He whispers softly, “Goodnight my sweet vampire, these nights will never get old.”

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hallowed-be-thy-username · 2 years

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okokok fic request..... soft mary goore on a rainy day, maybe a museum date 👀🙏🏻

i’m just feeling sappy about the gutterpunk lately :(((

Of course, ghestie!

For you <3 Yeeha!

Your phone buzzed in your pocket while you were bent over to slip your boots on your feet. After straightening up to fish it from your pocket, the screen lit up with a text from Mary.

Open your door.

You smiled at it and rolled your eyes before taking the mere two steps there were between you and the door, swiftly opening it.

“That was fast,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I have good timing.”

Mary smiled with a flash of his teeth and offered you his arm in a gentlemanly manner so contradictory to his appearance that it made you giggle then asked, “Shall we, my lovely?”

He held the umbrella over the both of you while you dodged puddles along the sidewalk, laughter getting squeezed out of you when he eventually decided to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way. “What! I don’t want your socks to get wet!”

You caught your breath when he set you down on your own two feet beneath the shelter of a building’s entrance to dig his wallet out of his pants. His jeans were always so tight, you wondered how he even fit anything in his pockets. Not that you were complaining, though. You both exchanged another smile before he pulled on the large door handle, and you stepped inside.

You gazed up at the tall ceiling, watching the rain wash down the glass dome overhead while Mary paid for two tickets at the counter. When he told you he’d never been to the history museum, you had to make sure that changed. You flashed him an excited smile and he responded with a kiss on your cheek before you passed through the entrance together, turning heads as you went at Mary’s, we’ll call it alternative, fashion.

Mary’s favorite exhibit was Ancient Egypt, which didn’t surprise you, of course. You’d never seen him nerd out like that before when he practically had his nose pressed against the glass case over the first mummy he’d ever seen in person, making it impossible to hold in your laughter. Your favorite was the Victorian era exhibit. Was it because Mary pointed out each of the dresses that were on display and told you how gorgeous you’d look in them? Maybe.

By the time you finished all of the exhibits, the rain had stopped, and you took your time walking home, sharing a snack from the museum café. The air was cool, and you felt a cozy, contended feeling settle over you while you walked hand-in-hand with Mary.

“Did you have a good time?”

You turned to him with a smile and nodded, “I really did. How about you?”

“Any time with you is a good time, sweetness,” he answered with a smirk.

“Dork.”

His smirk turned devious before he suddenly picked you up to toss you over his shoulder, taking off toward your apartment.

“Oh, you’ve done it now! I’ll show you who’s a dork!” he shouted while you squealed and giggled.

#mary goore #fic request #soft fic

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nevenabadr · 3 years

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50 Shades of You! Tom Hiddleston X Female! Reader

Note: This is my first ever fanfiction for Tom Hiddleston. I have not written fiction for ages. English is not my first language.

Inspiration: this is inspired by:

“I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.”

–Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

Word count: 2660

Warnings: Romance, sweet words, and smut–this is +21 and not for everyone.

Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback. 💚

-------------------------------------------------------

During the summer Cambridge University was having a conference "Gothic Elements In John Milton's Paradise Lost." As you the young professor of literature, the coordinate manager suggested that the University alumnus could join for not just attending, but acting a piece of the tragedy. Amongst the candidates was the Classic department graduate and famous actor, Tom Hiddleston.

You know that he might have scheduled issues or time conflicts, but you suggested the committee email him. To your surprise, he accepted the offer.

The scene of choice was casting the devil out of hell.

On the stage during the conference eve, you did not have the perfect time to watch him, but you took a glimpse of acting from far.

He even caught your show and face attending the rehearsals.

The conference day was pressuring. You were trying to get everything right, in the middle of your so-close meltdown. A voice brought you to reality, "Hello, is this professor Y/N)?"

You turned to find the British handsome alumni smiling peacefully at you. "Yes, how can I help you?"

"Indeed, I am the one offering help." As he adjusted his glasses, I asked the committee manager to take upon some errant backstage. Maybe I can assist with the front ceremony?"

"Of course," you paused for a moment, "can you help me with the dinner's seats arrangement? My assistant is absent and I have to print and arrange them myself."

"Just show me a computer and all will be done."

Both of you took your time arranging an evening missing up some seats.

"Here comes my name. You will be seated with the professors, of course!" He was busy putting name tags over the table.

"Oh! Don't remind me." You replied as if it is a conversation with an old friend and continued "the Classic department and Literature."

"They might start a war." Both of you started laughing

"I have an idea." He took a tag from his table and moved yours next to his. "Now you will be with a friend"

The presentations finished, you had to go for the gym showers to change and wear your conference and dinner dress.

By the time you arrived, the scene from the tardy was about to be played. You took your place in the front seat.

Tom was playing Satan. He noticed that you were reciting the lines with him. He even almost smiles at you. Could not hold himself from looking at you in the front row while playing the scene of...

"All is not lost; the unconquerable Will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield; (And what is else not to be overcome?) That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from me to bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee and deify his power, Who from the terror of his arm so late Doubted his empire[.] (I, 106–114)"

Your facial expressions captured his eyes, the movement of your lips and then the flame of your applause.

At the dinner, he was interested to hear all about your work and writings. His eyes could not able to leave you.

By the end of the dinner, he walked you to your car, "this was lovely, thank you for tonight"

You smiled at him, "thank you for accepting our invitation."

You shake hands and opened your car door like the gentleman he is.

"Would you like to go out with me, for a coffee? Books and coffee, maybe." He did not hesitate to ask.

"I would love to. You already have my number within the conference contact information." You raised an eyebrow and smirked.

As your car drove away, he knew he was up for an adventure.

Three months later, you are happily dating and sharing sweet kisses. He suggested a film marathon. Each week one of you chose a topic.

That Saturday's topic was Russian Literature and you had to add: "or inspired by it"

"Excuse me, but Tolstoy has no comparison!" He grimaced

"Shadow and Bones, love!" You teased him, "it the Netflix adaption of the era"

"After Anna Karenina, please," he sounded like an old professor.

"Alright then, deal." You tickled him and kissed his lips softly

Both of you enjoyed Anna Karenina, however, you were crying in his arms.

"That dreadful ending."

He hugged you "Hey, Shadow and Bones will make it up to you, let me make extra popcorn." Once again, he kissed you.

He came back with popcorn that will at least survive three episodes. You snuggled between his arms.

"Look at Alexie, how he said 'Make me your villain.'"

You were swooning as a fangirl.

"I beg your pardon, I am literally a villain," he complained

Oh! I would literally," stressing upon the last word, "let him have me"

His face was irritated and you not coming close to making love made him anxious, that you might not be ready. He never inquired about you.

You caressed his tummy, "hey, a penny for your thoughts, sir." It sounded like one of the Jack the Ripper prostitutes, about which you have constantly been talking.

His voice evolved deeper and his eyes did not leave yours "your deepest sexual desire. What do you crave?"

Comparing to your age, you were nervous and inexperienced. "My life was spent between books. I..."

He did not let you continue speaking and took your lips between his drawing your body closer to him, uttering between his hot kisses "I am not just a villain" his lips made the earth move "I am a God" whispering against the sport skin of your nick " a king" his hands were moving down the same tomes his lips reached the line of your bosom whilst his hand slides prevailed touching down pussy and dug his fingers driving you till the edge.

"I want you," you whispered between your soft moans.

He neglected your cravings and maintained his rhythm, watching your complexion and closed eyes till you arched your back in awe.

You collapsed between his arms heavily breathing "that was extremely wonderful, but I need you"

He kissed your lips playfully. "you are a delicious girl, Y/N, but..."

You hashed him with a kiss that he pulled from "if your life was between books, I want you to write me your deepest desire."

"Darling, it was a series, Alexie is fictional." You wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Fictional or not, he is a man, you are paying for this."

He was deadly serious "write me your longing."

You laugh "What? Like the 50 Shades of Y/N?"

He gazed into your eyes "aiming to please and punish you, darling, avenging my honour"

The next morning when you were with your family on Sunday's lunch, he opened an email titled "50 Shades of Y/A"

The content was as follows:

"You!"

He grinned to himself and determined to show her how fiction can become real.

Your week was busy. He had signed a new contract for a mini-series and was supposed to film soon.

Not replying to your email made you nervous, even went meeting for dinner. He was quiet about it.

You checked your sent box millions of times to make sure it arrived. Still, you knew he was busy working, and you were busy with the finals coming soon.

Thursday’s dinner, nothing yet, nothing but gaggling and discussing your days and current reads.

"Darling, we did not decide this week's marathon"

He did not take his eyes off the menu "Are not you having a big family week, you should go" he was confident and calm.

Deep inside you wanted to grab his neck and jiggle him, but for the lady you are and the restaurant, you were calm.

"Wonderful!"

The dinner was over; he drove you home, kissed you goodnight.

Saturday morning, a ringing at your door. Apparently, you received a package, a big one.

You kept thinking that some books might have come early from your publisher. Unwrapping it to a surprise satin 1950 coat with Ruby red entourage and black heels.

There was also a note, she recognised the handwriting:

"Wear nothing but this for your punishment. If other pieces were found upon your body, then fear my fury and vengeance.

Love,

So, it was her version of Mr Grey. But have you ever been ready to comply with anyone?"

Suddenly, a message arrived on your phone

"Reminder, a black will pick you tonight at 8, don't disobey me, Princess."

Your heel clicked on the floor as a man dressed in an old fashion suit opened the car for you. The windows were blacked out, so you did not see where it was heading.

"Welcome, Princess," he greeted you as if you were royalty, "My master is awaiting your presence."

You took his hands. The place was carved out of one of your favourite dark fantasies, a mansion with gargoyles, dark lighting, and a vast garden.

You could not believe your eyes. Tom knew your deepest desires indeed.

But that is not the end.

The inside was as of a dark enchantment with deep red flowers and candles. The servant showed you the way to a dining room fit for a feast. Tom was not there.

"My master requires you to await his arrival." The servant bowed and left.

You were like a child been left inside her favourite toyshop. The ornaments, the lighting, and even the shapes of the food. That aesthetic you only could dream of but never reach.

"Enjoying yourself already?" You turned to find your man dressed in a black Victorian suit. His face was shaved, shorter hair, no glasses. Just all of the handsome glory.

You took a step forward "no princess, I shall come for you"

He kissed your hand and then sat on the table's head, while it sat on the opposite side and faced you away indeed.

"Are you pleased, princess?" He raised his glass of red wine.

"Yes, my Prince." You smile.

"In here, you shall address me as your king." His eyes lit with fire, and his voice was harsh.

You played along and raised an eyebrow "my king."

"This is not a game, princess, you are my prisoner"

You dined quietly, as he did not drop his eyes from you.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You flirted "deeply, my king"

He left his chair and came closer to you, his fingers left your chain so you can gaze into your eyes.

He asked, "care for a dance?"

You smiled "I would love to."

You stepped forward and took his hand to a ballroom, just for you and him, the dark king.

The following piece of music was sensual and moving.

"The coat, princess, I want to see nothing but heels on your body,"

You obeyed the king, but for a tick. When you took it off, underneath it a short emerald green strapless corset dress tight upon the curves of your body and pushed your bosoms to their glory.

He grinned and his eyes darken "looking for further punishment, I suppose?"

"Anything to please the king." You took his hand and kissed it. He did not expect it.

He turned furiously and the next song was romantic. He wrapped his arms around you once again, waltz, you sneaky woman, deserved joy before being punished.

Twirling you on the dance floor like the earth has no one but the two of you.

By the end, he carried you "to my chambers, little one"

You were nervous and anxious. What if he did not like what was underneath the dress?

He entered a candlelight room with a four-poster bed in the centre. The curtains of the bed were black and emerald.

He laid you in bed, kissing your lips and playing with your hair.

His breathing was heating against your skin.

"You won't miss that dress, will you, princess?"

He did not wait for your reply as he lifted a dagger amongst the layers of his suit and cut the corset down to the last piece of the dress.

You wore nothing else. You were lying exposed as he stood to look upon your naked curves for the first time.

You spontaneously tried to cover your bosom and private parts.

"No, do not you dare" he was angry and you could not distinguish reality from fantasy.

You throw the rest of the dress away. Hands laying by your head and he stood there for a juncture, gazing at every inch of your body.

"Turn," he ordered angrily as if the soul of Loki took over him, "I said, turn"

You nearly dropped tears "here my king"

You felt the softness of his lips upon your delicate shoulders.

Kissing the line of your spine. He knows this will work like magic. You tickle from your back, now trying to lick you, taste you, slap you.

He flipped you to face him. You were sobbing. He could hear it under your moans.

"You are not a princess, you are not a queen."

He wipes her tears from her cheek "you are a goddess and I am your slave."

You giggled between your tears, wrapping your arms around his neck "my king"

"Your, slave" As his voice became softer, he hushed you with a finger.

He kissed every inch of your body. You were playing with his short blonde locks.

"Let me worship your bosom, my goddess" he kissed, licked and played with your nipples and cupped your bosoms gently.

Kissing down till he reached your pussy, "Let me worship your temple" as he licked your clitoris.

You were moaning loader now

“Not this time, my king I want you inside me."

"Alright, as the pleasure of my goddess, I shall obey."

He adjusted his weight on you and asked, "wider for me, my goddess of beauty"

You opened for him as he enters you for the first time. You let out a loud breath "are you alright" he took your hands between his.

"Continue, my king."

He is just thrusting himself gently inside you. Your moans filling the room

"I am a villain, a king, a god, and a man"

Your hands were free to run along his back as he continued, "a man, no, a slave for my goddess"

You were moving with him and moaning louder, "my king, what else?"

Thursinting himself harder and moving with a faster pace.

"My goddess, the sculptures of beauty," between his breathing and moaning "Da Vinci would not be able to capture your grace"

You were kissing as your nail dug inside his shoulders.

His last whispers as moving himself inside your pussy which was clutching around his manhood. He moved with pace, as you rocked your lap against him

"I will live in thy heart," kissing your lips as you bite his lower lip between your steamy breath. "Die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.”

He was going faster now and you were in tremendous awe and your skin was heating up with your pleasure.

"Look at me goddess" you were closing your eyes as you become close to you your orgasm "look at me," he ordered

"I love thee, Tom," you said as your pussy was clutching around his manhood and trembling underneath him. His enormous climax followed your orgasm.

You were shaking. He used his hands to keep himself from crushing you with his weight.

He rested his forehead on yours till both of you caught your breath. Gently took you between his arms as resting on his side "and I love thee, Y/N"

kissed you and as you were falling asleep, yet muttered, "I made you my villain, did not I?"

He giggles, "I beg your pardon, your God, King, and lover"

You kissed for the last time of that night and snuggle between peacefully each other's arms.

----------------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@shafverani

@imsebastiansta-n

@brokenwitty

@221bshrlocked (awaiting your feedback)

@sinner-as-saint

@zemosimp05

@buckys-fairy

#marvel #fan fiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #Loki #loki fic #Loki Smut #tom hiddleston × reader #Crimson Peak #Thor #loki laufeyson #Disney Loki #tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fandom #tom hiddleston one shot #Tom Hiddleston OneShot #Tom Hiddleston x you

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sturchling · 3 years

Note

First off I love your Miraculous Ladybug fics. Also I don't know if you are a Black Butler fan or not. But if you are could you please do a fic where Lila causes a that destroys Marinette's home/bakery, which kills Marinette's parents and severely injures Marinette. While in the hospital recovering Roland finds out what Lila did and talks with Gina, both recently have been diagnosed with cancer and want to make sure Marinette is taken care of when they die. Gina or Roland remember a story told to them by a descendant of the Phantomhive servants (In this fic it follows season 2 with Sebastian being able to get Ciel's memories back before Claude tried to brainwash him and was able to eat Ciel's soul) (either from when Gina was in traveling in England or someone who Roland's father knew during WWII) about a demon who acted like a caretaker for a child in the late 1800's. They both decide to sacrifice themselves so Marinette can be cared for. One summons Sebastian the other summons Claude. The terms of the contract are simple, in exchange for eating the soul of the person who summoned their specific demon the summoned demon would care for Marinette, act as her guardian, help her achieve her dreams, and care for her, her husband and their children until Marinette passes away from old age. The contract is accepted with both demons. While caring for Marinette it becomes sort of a contest between the two demons of them trying to out do each other in different ways (if Claude gets her multiple roles of different color spider silk fabric, Sebastian "accidentally" gets Marinette introduced to several high ranking nobles ["Hello, my ancestor worked for your ancestor's peer. What a small world. Might I introduce you to my ward?"] that become her clients. Due to the two demons' shenanigans Lila gets exposed, the Butterfly and Peacock are recovered, Adrien's mother is awakened, Marinette gets some real friends (Will, Ronald, Grell, and the Undertaker got reincarnated and regain their memories after a while) and falls in love with her future husband (either Will, Ronald, or the Undertaker. The only reason I don't do this fic myself is I can't write Black Butler characters even though it's one of my favorite animes.

Sorry this took so long, I wanted to try my best to make the characters accurate, so I had to rewatch some of the show. I hope I did good, but I am pretty rusty, writing these characters. But I tried my best! Hope you like it!

Lila was getting more and more dangerous. She didn't just want to ruin Marinette's social life anymore. Now she wanted to ruin her entire life, or even end it. One night, when everyone was asleep, Lila broke into the bakery and started a fire. She made sure that it would spread to the upper floors and then she raced from the building before she was spotted.

The fire spread quickly and soon the entire building, bakery and the apartment were completely engulfed. Marinette woke up to the smell of smoke and Tikki yelling in her ear. Despite the kwami screaming at her to leave the apartment, Marinette raced down to her parents room, to see if they had gotten out, but the door was blocked by debris falling from the ceiling. The thick black smoke was choking Marinette as she tried in vain to get to her parents. By the time Tikki managed to convince Marinette that they had to leave, Marinette was severely burned on her arms, legs, and back. As she blindly felt her way to the exit, a now exposed wooden beam in the ceiling, came crashing down, landing on Marinette's legs. With her legs pinned and unable to move, Marinette passed out. Thankfully firefighters had already been called and pulled Marinette from the flames before it was too late. On lookers from the neighborhood watched in horror as the bakery went up in flames. Once the fire was put out and Marinette was sent to the closest hospital, the firefighters went into the apartment and found Tom and Sabine. They had died in their room, unable to get out because of the debris blocking their door.

The next morning, the whole city seemed to be grieving. Tom and Sabine were well loved people in the city and everyone was distraught over the loss. But no one was more distraught than Marinette and her grandparents. Roland and Gina heard about the fire early that morning and were horrified to learn that Tom and Sabine were gone. But their one piece of solace was that Marinette had survived. They both raced to the hospital and comforted their granddaughter. But they had a bigger problem. Both Gina and Roland were getting older, now both in their late 80's. Both of them also had several severe health conditions and likely wouldn't be around for much longer as it is. And then who would take care of Marinette? That is when Gina remembered a story she had heard when she was in England. A story of two boys in the Victorian era who had made deals with demons, and those demons took care of the boys. Soon after, both boys' souls were eaten by their respective demons. As much as Gina and Roland didn't want to leave Marinette, they thought that this was the best thing for her. The only way to know that she would truly be cared for.

That night, after they left the hospital, they summoned the demons the same way as in the story Gina heard. The room became dark with shadow and two voices spoke from the darkness, asking the two elderly people why they had been summoned. "We summoned you to make a deal. Our granddaughter has recently lost her parents and we likely will not be around much longer as it is. We heard stories about how you two cared for two boys in the Victorian era in exchange for their respective souls. In exchange for our souls, we want you to take care of our Marinette. To help her achieve her goals, protect her, and care for her until she dies. Both demons agreed to the deal. After all, they had already cared for children before, so they had the skills to do it, and the souls of these two people who would willingly do this for their granddaughter would be nice to have. With the contract sealed, Gina and Roland wrote in their wills that Marinette was to be cared for by Sebastian and Claude, claiming they were old family friends. They also took the two demons to meet Marinette, so that Marinette would at least meet the two before they began caring for her. Once the legalities were taken care of and Marinette had met the two, Sebastian and Claude took their payment and Gina and Roland died.

Marinette was overcome with the grief of not just losing her parents, but now her grandparents as well. Sebastian and Claude, who her grandparents had recently introduced her to, were declared her guardians and began watching over her. Roland had left Marinette his house, so she had somewhere to live. While Marinette began to settle into the new normal of her life, Sebastian and Claude got to work on the first order of business. They were going to get justice for Marinette's parents. They knew that the fire was not an accident and that someone had set it on purpose. The evidence was obvious, but the police were stuck. They didn't know who did it. But Sebastian and Claude quickly learned that it was a girl named Lila who had been tormenting their charge for years now. All they had to do was phone in an anonymous tip to the police about the girl, and the police searched Lila's apartment. Mrs. Rossi kept sayin this was a mistake and her daughter couldn't have done this, but the police soon found evidence of her involvement, including the accelerant used at the bakery. Lila was confused, sure that she had gotten rid of it all. But Lila was arrested quickly, as a crowd had now grown outside of her apartment building. Several members of Mrs. Bustier's class were there and saw Lila being dragged out in cuffs. As Paris looked on in horror at the arsonist that had killed the Dupain-Chengs, no one noticed the shadow like figures standing to the side, smiling coldly at the scene.

They also quickly figured out that Marinette was Ladybug and even figured out that Adrien was Chat Noir when he came over to check on Marinette. They learned this by sensing the souls of the kwami. Since the kwami's souls are obviously not human, and Marinette kept disappearing during the akuma attacks, it didn't take long for the demons to be sure of their suspicion that Marinette was Ladybug. After confirming this, they felt that defeating Hawkmoth fell under their duty of caring for Marinette so they set out to find out who Hawkmoth was. They were able to sense the souls of other kwami in the city. They sensed two other kwami in Adrien's house. With only two kwami present in the house, they were certain that this was the location of Hawkmoth. To confirm this, Claude used a smaller version of his demon form to enter the manor and watch the residents of the house. Claude soon saw Gabriel and Natalie transform with the missing miraculous. Now that they had confirmation, it was time to end Hawkmoth.

The two demons began to plague Gabriel and Natalie with nightmares and torment them constantly. In each nightmare, they made it abundantly clear that this was because of their actions as Hawkmoth and Mayura. Soon, Gabriel and Natalie could hardly sleep and were almost driven completely mad. They surrendered to Ladybug and the miraculous were recovered. Gabriel and Natalie were sent to prison for their crimes. When Marinette learned why Gabriel had done everything and what happened to Emilie, she used everything she had learned about magic to help revive her. Sebastian and Claude lent some of their power to this endeavor as well, not wanting their charge to exhaust herself in the attempt. Adrien had his mom back, and the two moved to England to get away from all the trouble Gabriel had caused as Hawkmoth.

With all the major problems in Marinette's life taken care of, Marinette could relax a bit and focus on her fashion. While she thought it was odd that her grandparents had left her in Sebastian and Claude's care, she did think they were doing a wonderful job. They helped to support all her dreams, any way they could. Claude once brought her several different rolls of fabric made from spider silk. This of course, renewed the rivalry between the two demons. Sebastian brought Marinette to England, making the excuse that it was to see her friend. While there, Sebastian made sure to 'run into' the descendants of some old friends. Several nobles and aristocrats found a charming man and young girl in front of them at many parties. The man seemed familiar to them all, especially the older guests at these parties. They were sure they had encountered this man before. When asked if they knew him, the Sebastian always responded with "My ancestor worked as a butler for one of your ancestor's peers. He worked in the Phantomhive manor as the butler to Ciel Phantomhive. It truly is a small world for us to meet. May I introduce my charge, Ms. Marinette Dupain-Cheng." Sebastian spent the whole night talking up Marinette's fashion business and Marinette would leave these parties with several more clients than when she arrived.

Claude and Sebastian kept trying to out do each other in their attempts to care for Marinette. Helping her with her designs, getting her fancy fabrics and equipment, even convincing several major fashion magazines to feature her work. As odd as the arrangement was, it did work. Marinette met several new friends, thanks to Sebastian and Claude's interference. She even met the man that she would marry. A man who looked suspiciously like Will, from all those decades ago. As the years went by, even after Marinette was an adult and didn't need caretakers anymore, Sebastian and Claude continued to watch over and protect her, as per their contract. And they would watch over her, for the rest of her life.

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Note

The undatables as uncles need more love, so... What if L!MC and the rest of the children just go to the castle or purgatory Hall for a few days because the Bros got tired or just need a day of rest. Idk this makes no sense

Yes, more uncle shennaniganery!

A Day at the Demon Lord’s Castle

Masterlist

It was Demon-Flu season, and no demon in the House of Lamentation was spared from its sniffly wrath. It started with Belphegor waking up and sneezing right next to Beel, and it was all downhill from there.

Notice how I said “demon”, the dear little Half-Demons were all fine thanks to the efforts of M!MC who for some reason had bought a bunch of plague doctor masks the week prior.

“Why... why did you buy these?” L!MC asked, their voice muffled by the badly fitting mask.

“I saw em’ in a store window and I decided I wanted them.”

Three out of four of the Brat Brigade (plus the cat) were on their way to the Demon Lord’s castle to stay until the house’s little epidemic passed. Lord Diavolo had oh so graciously asked (begged) to be allowed to host the kids for a while.

What could go wrong?

Many things could go wrong.

For one, the first thing A!MC saw when they first arrived, was a rat. Not one of the gross scary ones, but one of the absolutely adorable ones that turns you into the ‘gently holds’ meme.

“I’m going to call you Templeton!” “*squeak*” “Yay!”

Barbatos of course came to greet the guests, and explained that they have a little... issue with rats at that moment. Butler-dad assured them it wouldn’t be a problem, just if the children saw any of the vermin running around to tell him and he’d dispose of them.

Templeton the rat was promptly hidden in one of A!MC’s pockets.

The Purgatory Hall crew was there as well, apparently Solomon decided to make brunch and Purgatory Hall’s kitchen exploded.

Lord Diavolo finally makes his entrance and declares that everyone should unpack and relax, his gorgeous/terrifying castle was their gorgeous/terrifying castle.

“So,” L!MC rested their head on their hand and rotated the knight in their free hand as they stared half vacantly at the chess board. “Did you take care of the snake in the labyrinth, Dia?”

Diavolo lit up when he heard his seldom used nickname. “Well, Henry 1.0 isn’t exactly bothering anyone down there at the moment, and I don’t think Levi is equipped to deal with a fifty foot long untamed snake.”

L!MC smirked and placed their knight down. “Yeah, at least not right now.”

The moment L!MC removed their hand from the knight, Diavolo moved his bishop and took their queen. Shit.

“Aw man...” L!MC mumbled, after a cursory look at the board, the poor thing realized that they had been screwed for the last five turns and Diavolo was just prolonging the match.

“Don’t feel too bad, L!MC.” Diavolo gave them a pat on the head. “Lucifer can’t beat me in chess either.”

“Hmph.” They wouldn’t admit it but... that did make them feel a little better.

“That reminds me, I have a favour to ask of you.” L!MC almost outwardly drooped at the mention of... ugh... a task. “Do you mind reviewing some dad-jokes with me to make sure they are suitably dad-like?”

“...what?” Quickly remembering they were in the presence of honest to God (poor choice of words... uh... Grandfather?) royalty, L!MC straightened their posture and tried their best to look respectfully curious instead of completely and utterly confused. “Pardon?”

“M!MC and several others have said I have ‘dad vibes’, so I’m leaning into it!” Diavolo smiled so brightly if L!MC hadn’t been the child of the Morning Star they may have been blinded. “My father wasn’t one for jokes, so I’d like to run these by you before I say them to others.”

Suppressing a snort of laughter, L!MC nodded. “Go for it, I’m all ears.”

Diavolo pulled out quite the long list and began to read out loud... L!MC quickly realized that this may take longer than expected. “Okay, to begin: I’m afraid for the calendar, it’s days are numbered.”

“Oh not-that-good-Lord...” L!MC muttered under their breath.

The dad jokes continued, some were funny, some were absolutely awful, some sounded like they were made for children in the Victorian era... overall, it was a good- holy shit that took over two hours...

“Finally,” Diavolo squinted at the last joke. “I went to the liquor store and they asked for my ID, while I fumbled for my wallet, my Blockbuster card fell out, the cashier said ‘nevermind’.”

L!MC furrowed their brows. “What’s a Blockbuster?”

“That was what I was hoping you’d explain to me... is it a dad requirement to get a card for that establishment..?”

“Mmmm...” L!MC pursed their lips. “Probably not. I mean, Lucifer doesn’t have one.”

“That’s true...” Diavolo looked at the clock, then stood up and began to shoo L!MC out the door. “Look at me, taking up all your time that you should be spending with your friends. Thank you for your help, L!MC, now don’t let me keep you any longer!”

Giggling slightly, L!MC shot a wave over their shoulder as they left the room. “Bye dad! See you later!”

They were half way down the hallway when they realized their verbal slip-up.

“Oh.” L!MC’s face burned with embarrassment. “Shit.”

Dad-volo was totally delighted and very cool about it, don’t worry.

M!MC and Bean the cat were hanging out with the angels in the very pretty royal gardens when that mess was going down.

Luke was being absolutely adorable and was snuggling Bean while he and Simeon looked at the pretty plants.

In traditional M!MC fashion, they were engaging in an average game of ‘lightly tease the chihuahua’.

“It’s just... you’re so small.” M!MC took the opportunity to rest their arm on Luke’s head as he stopped to observe a colour changing flower bush. “How many years have you been this height? 100? 200?”

M!MC had taken the news that Luke was older than them in stride, finding new opportunities to make the little angel do his adorable angy face. They were obviously succeeding in their jerkwad-endeavours as Luke pushed their arm off and fixed his now smushed hat.

“You be quiet! I’m perfectly average height for an angel my age.” Luke huffed, petting the cat, who hissed at M!MC. The stupid cat absolutely hated them for some reason, it brought L!MC never ending joy to bring the cat into their shared room and watch it hiss and swipe at them. L!MC should really show some more respect for their older cousin!

“Are angels normally the size of a fifth grader?” M!MC snickered. “Is Simeon considered a freak for his height?”

“No, M!MC, I am not.” Simeon chuckled. “Rest assured, Luke will grow.”

“Yeah! And I’m sure I’ll be taller than you!” Luke added.

M!MC smirked deviously and pinched Luke’s cheek. “Well, I’ll have to take advantage of your smallness and baby face while I still can!”

“Hey! Stop that!” Luke tried to swat their hands away, but M!MC had inherited their father’s reflexes and his penchant for being a little shit every once and a while, so Luke’s swatting only resulted in more pinches.

“Never!” M!MC teased. “Surrender to your smallness!”

“No!”

Luke took off deeper into the garden, surprisingly quickly considering he was holding a cat that was hellbent on clawing M!MC’s eyes out. M!MC laughed and gave chase.

“Luuuuuuuke! Come back! I promise I’ll be nice!” M!MC lied right through their teeth like the little heathen they were, as they ran down the path they noticed that they couldn’t see Luke up ahead anymore, nor could they hear him yelling for Simeon to make them quit their teasing.

“Heheh...” M!MC wheezed as they stopped to catch their breath. “Luke c’mon, don’t be a baby. It’s real immature to hide like that!”

There was no response, which made M!MC just a little nervous, just a smidge. The plants had changed from pretty flowers and gorgeous trees to a much darker clump of vines and twisting branches. It all seemed to be the same plant, M!MC noted as they scanned the area for any sign of Luke and the cat, or Simeon for that matter.

“Luke? Bean? Come on! Haul your asses over here, this isn’t funny any-” M!MC paused and looked down as something coiled around their left leg. “-more?”

The vine tightened and yanked them backwards, M!MC fell right to the ground and clawed at the path to stop them getting pulled into the brush. Another vine wrapped around their right leg, any resistance that digging their nails into the ground was nullified as both vines yanked M!MC into the bushes.

Well, this was a nightmare of epic proportions. The vines continued to wrap around the helpless half demon until they were completely unable to move. As M!MC looked around frantically, they made eye contact with an all too familiar pair of blue eyes. Ah! There was Luke!

“Mmmph!” Only Luke’s eyes were visible, but the eyes are the gateway to the soul or whatever, and M!MC took an educated guess and decided that Luke’s soul wasn’t too happy with them.

“Mmth! Mmth!” M!MC tried to speak, but their mouth was covered by the vines. The two would have to communicate with their eyes only.

‘This is your fault!’

‘How the fuck is this MY fault?’

‘If you hadn’t teased me this never would have happened!’

‘Grow thicker skin, you chihuahua!’

‘Fuck you!’

Listen, Luke probably wasn’t capable of trying to communicate a swear word, but it was incredibly funny for M!MC to think about.

“M!MC? Luke?” Simeon stepped into their limited field of vision. “Where are you two? This plant is carnivorous.”

Oh... lovely. That was good to know.

“Mmemph!”

“MFTH!” Luke and M!MC tried to call out to Simeon, only for the vines to wrap around them even tighter. Wow, what a way to go... strangled by a plant... ugh. L!MC would never let them live that down...

“Hm,” Simeon looked down at the vine that was coiling around his leg. “What a bother.”

Quick as lightning, Simeon grabbed the vine and sent a burst of shining gold magic shooting through it. The magic quickly spread to the rest of the plant and the moment the magic slammed into M!MC they nearly passed out from the searing pain that shot through their entire body.

They clamped their eyes shut and clenched their teeth to stop them from rattling as they felt the massive wave of Celestial magic wash over them. It was weirdly warm, like a hug from a friend, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation, at least not to M!MC.

The plant let out an otherworldly scream as it threw Luke, Bean, and M!MC back onto the path at Simeon’s feet.

Luke picked Bean back up and dusted off his clothes like he didn’t have a care in the world. M!MC lay on the ground, if you listened closely you could hear them sizzle a bit. Nothing like being nearly strangled by a plant and then roasted by holy ‘fuck you’ magic.

“I’m glad you’re both okay,” Simeon pulled Luke into a hug and helped M!MC off the ground. “Did I ah... use to much magic?”

M!MC half-scowled at their saviour and wiped down their outfit. “Yeah. A little too much.”

“My bad,” Simeon ruffled M!MC’s hair. “I hope this serves as a learning experience for you two, Luke, don’t run off like that, and M!MC,”

The half demon nearly jumped in fear and surprise as Simeon swivelled to look at them. The smile on his face was far from comforting. “Don’t tease poor Luke too much, okay?”

“Uh... uh huh.” M!MC quickly nodded.

“Good! Now let’s head back, I think we’ve all had enough of the Royal Gardens.”

As the group returned, they passed a very red in the face L!MC and wondered what exactly went down in the time they were gone.

It’s common knowledge that Barbatos hates rats, it’s also common knowledge that A!MC is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine.

What does this lead to, you may be asking, well...

A!MC and their dear rat Templeton needed to hide from the politely homicidal Barbatos.

“Sh!” A!MC whispered into their pocket, the rat responded with an indignant squeak.

The Demon Lord’s Castle was absolutely massive, and trying to navigate it without a map was akin to wandering around an ancient pyramid filled with death traps. A!MC and their dear companion were wandering the place without a map and trying to hide from a butler that had the power to see into the future. The two fugitives were at a clear disadvantage.

A!MC had managed to stumble into an area that had paintings and statues completely everywhere, it was then they realized they were completely lost.

While quietly perusing the room, A!MC took notice of quite the lovely portrait of a woman. She had long flowing locks of golden hair and the most gorgeous captivating eyes... A!MC nearly shrieked when the woman’s eyes snapped to their’s and her face contorted into a scowl.

“Do I know you?” The woman asked, A!MC gulped and shook their head.

“N-no ma’am, I don’t think we’ve met...” A!MC mumbled before sticking out their hand for a handshake. The painting woman stared down at their outstretched hand, very unimpressed. “I’m A!MC, it’s nice to meet you.”

The half demon offered their cutest smile, their dad had lovingly taken the time to coach them in the art of being so darn tootin’ adorable that everyone would fall over themselves to get A!MC to like them. The moment the woman registered the smile, her scowl returned for a brief moment, then vanished entirely.

“Oh,” The woman smiled sweetly. “I do think I know you, do you mind coming a bit closer so I can see you better?”

Suffering from a complete inability to detect red flags, A!MC happily moved closer.

“Ah, just as I suspected. You look like Asmodeus.”

“You know my dad?” A!MC asked.

“Yes,” The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I know him quite well.”

A!MC was suddenly knocked off balance as a massive gust of wind shoved them closer to the painting. They frantically clawed at the stone ground as Templeton squeaked and squirmed in their pocket.

“Your father is the reason I’m stuck in this painting,” The woman explained coldly as A!MC tried to scramble away. “He escaped the labyrinth twice, but I don’t plan on letting you escape.”

“I-uh- m-muh-my dad’s probably really sorry about whatever he did! There’s no need to be rash!” A!MC stuttered.

“Yeah, no.” The woman huffed. “He had his chance to fix things. I’m getting even.”

“Not right now you’re not.”

A!MC swivelled their head around to see Barbatos calmly holding out a pair of scissors.

“Now Helene, I’d recommend releasing the child before I’m forced to take drastic measures.” Barbatos clicked the scissors together twice, and Helene paled. The wind pushing A!MC towards the painting dissipated and the half demon ran and hid behind the butler.

“Th-thank you...” A!MC mumbled.

“It’s not a problem, A!MC. Now I believe it would be a wise choice to move to another room.”

The two, (plus the hidden rat) ended up in the kitchen. A!MC shifted nervously as Barbatos began prepping lunch.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” Barbatos asked suddenly, A!MC straightened their posture and nodded.

“I um... promise you won’t be mad...” A!MC mumbled.

“I can assure you, I won’t be too upset.”

“I made a friend.” A!MC took Templeton out of their pocket and held him closely to their chest, Barbatos’s calm smile froze on his face. “He’s really sweet, please don’t kill him!”

“...A!MC.” Barbatos began slowly. “I’m not mad... just make sure it doesn’t escape and run rampant... now... please get it out of my kitchen.”

“Yes sir! Thank you sir!” A!MC turned and sprinted to their room.

Ugh... Barbatos, haven’t you ever watched Ratatouille? The rat can cook dammit!

When Luke went in to bake with his second dad he was very confused as to why Barbatos looked like he was having war flashbacks.

Huh... weird right? Anyway...

Good ol’ weird uncle Solomon suggested that after dinner everyone should get together and watch a movie.

L!MC and Solomon suggested that they watch The Conjuring and that idea got immediately shot down.

M!MC brought up that the most “family get-together” movie they could think of was Star Wars.

So they watched A New Hope.

“We could be watching the Conjuring right now.” L!MC murmured as they watched Luke Skywalker fumble his way to Obi Wan Kenobi.

“Yeah.” Solomon whispered back. “You know, I met Ed and Lorraine Warren.”

“Cool,” L!MC smiled. “My ren took me to their house once, when I went in to see all the haunted objects all the demons inside wanted to hang out with me.”

“Huh,” Solomon snickered. “Did they think you were Lucifer?”

“Yep. It was funny, Annabelle’s a pretty big asshole though.”

“I’d be an asshole too if I were stuck in a raggedy Anne doll since the 60s and not allowed to leave.”

“Both of you sh!” M!MC hissed, they threw some popcorn over their shoulder, which L!MC threw right back.

A while into the movie, M!MC elbowed Solomon and pointed at one of the aliens. “That’s you.”

“I’m so hurt…” Solomon pouted.

“And that’s you.” L!MC pointed at a stormtrooper that had just gotten shot with a blaster. M!MC scoffed and rolled their eyes.

“I’m not some dumb stormtrooper.”

“Yeah, you’re a little short for a stormtrooper.”

“HEY!”

“SHHHHHHH!” A!MC and Luke turned and started throwing their own popcorn…

The mess that they all had to vacuum after the movie was much more terrifying than The Conjuring ever could have been.

So, after a few days, Lucifer called to say that everyone was back to normal and the last remnants of the Demon-Flu were gone.

Yay! The kids could go back to their really overcrowded house!

The goodbyes were something to behold.

“Goodbye everyone! Come back sometime soon!” Diavolo waved from the doorway.

“Bye, Lord Diavolo!” L!MC smiled brightly and returned the wave. M!MC snickered and nudged them.

“That’s a pretty cold way to say goodbye to your dad-”

“Shut up…” L!MC growled.

“L!MC, what are they talking about?” Lucifer asked.

“Nothing!”

M!MC looked like they were weighing the pros and cons of surviving the conversation, then shrugged.

“M!MC, no, you have so much to live for!” A!MC pleaded.

“L!MC called Lord Diavolo dad!”

Mammon erupted into hysterical laughter while Asmo giggled and half heartedly patted L!MC on the head. Lucifer was not impressed.

“You know,” L!MC sighed. “I’m moving out. Lord Diavolo can I come live here?”

“L!MC, come back.” Lucifer trailed after his very embarrassed spawn.

A!MC pulled on their dad’s sleeve and cleared their throat.

“Yes sweetie?”

“D-dad, do you have a vehement hatred and or fear of rats?”

“Um-”

“Meet Templeton, he’s adorable and my friend.”

————————

Author’s note, The next part of the main series is coming next week… or this week… idk how long things take.

(Probably this week)

#the next mission is making sure the rat doesn’t get eaten by Detective Toe Beans…#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Fic #obey me shall we date #Obey me! headcanons #obey me! shall we date?#obey me headcanons #Obey me MC #Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Luke #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Solomon #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Asmodeus

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morimakesfanart · 3 years

Text

Sindria's Prophet #13

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[AO3]

((edited because I figured out to add some more history facts that I think are important))

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

With all of the Generals caught up with what happened in Balbadd, they needed to start planning for King Sinbad's trip to the Kou Empire, as well as catching him up with everything that had happened in Sindria while he was gone.

"LadY YamuRAI H AA AA A" A yell came from the hallway accompanied by the sounds of running.

((Sinbad is hidden on the left. There's a hint of him poking out.))

A panting magician gave apologies for disturbing their meeting and ran to the head of Sindria's magicians. "I wish I knew you were here so I didn't search the tower first~" Then he started explaining about some magical proof. Most of his words sounded like gibberish to the rest, but it was clear that he had made some kind of break though.

Yam jumped out of her seat. "How did you finally figure it out?! Who figured it out?!" She whipped her head to her King, "Sorry your majesty," and then looked back to the other magician.

"It was the work of the Prophet!” the magician answered. "We were talking about her illness and she pulled out scrolls that- you just have to read them for yourself!”

Mori had said that she had written other scrolls before she started coping down Fate. This must have been what she was working on.

Both magicians bowed out to go test out this new information. Before they could leave, Sinbad ended the meeting; there was no way he was going to wait to learn what other information Mori had blessed them with. Ja'far followed as did a few of the other Generals.

When they got into the court yard, the doctors that had been sent to take care of Mori were already pushing their supply cart back to their main building. The magician that had stayed behind spotted them and raised two scrolls up triumphantly. "She let me take the scrolls!"

---

News of the scrolls written by a Prophet spread throughout the Black Libra Tower within an hour. Yamuraiha and the doctors explained their significance to King Sinbad.

If even a fraction of the theories in the scrolls proved true it would completely changed their understanding of how illnesses work. If Mori wasn't sick she would undoubtedly be swarmed with questions and demands for proof. According to the magicians, nothing in the scrolls went against any known information. Instead, they gave explanations to why certain things that had been attempted in the past had failed. What she wrote about 'cells' was what really caught the eyes of the white magicians and doctors. As an example, according to Mori's writing there were blood types and most couldn't mix; that would explain why most past attempts at blood transfusions had failed.

The 2nd scroll showed a break down of even smaller particles, and how the structures of different particles made up everything. This was going to bring alchemic magic to a whole new era. Sure, such things would most likely be limited to high magicians, group efforts, and the Magi, but it looked possible now. A lot of common magic of the current day took extreme amounts of magoi in the past because they hadn't found the right formula yet. Mori's writing -if true- could easily be used as a guide to finding the right order of commands for many spells.

And even more than that, Mori had said that she had even more information to share; she had just ran out of scrolls and ink.

Mori's presence in Sindria, and everything that went with it were Fate and the Rukh's guidance. King Sinbad could see it -the future he wanted.

---

~POV Mori~

In Sindria's Palace there is a Great Bell. It is rung during celebrations, and to signify the King returning home like it did earlier that day, but it's main use was to ring every 2 hours to tell everyone the time since clocks weren't invented yet. So even though I was a sick person trying to rest during the day, I was woken up by the Great Bell every 2 hours... which of course is also situated right on top of the guest tower.

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

I wish I knew how the others responded to the scrolls. I really wanted to know Yam's opinion most. Those scrolls basically gave away the secret to Yunan's signature alchemy magic.

I still had the first scroll I had worked on -the one on the science behind blimps-, and the last science scroll I had started. That one was on DNA, and reproductive systems. It was the last one I started in Balbadd. I hadn't started working on it until sunrise on my 2nd sleepless night and it showed; there were missing words everywhere, many incomplete sentences, and I couldn't stay in topic.

These mistakes were too great to fix with an ink knife. Editing was going be super annoying and time consuming since I couldn't work digitally. I'd have to physically cut up the first draft to put everything in the right order before making the next one.

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

Back home the first evolution of shears that could be labeled as scissors was in Roman barber shops in the last hundred years or so before Rome fell. China would spontaneous also create something akin to scissors not long after. Reim and the Kou Empire seemed to line up with Rome and ancient China for the most part, so I tend to use them to place the time period, but the dress Princess Dunya wears is centuries off and throws all historical accuracy questions out the window. Rome was long gone by the time boning was added to women's undergarments, and that dress had all the signs of boned corsetry.

Fuck it. I'll ask for scissors and if they don't have them I'll just invent them myself. I had been drafting professionally for the past 4 years. That may have been for microelectronics, but it uses all the same skills; I could do this. I needed to get a ruler -or at least a straight edge- and a drafting compass which they probably have based on the look of maps in the series, and pencils, or at least colored inks if they had them. I probably needed to reinvent the French curve(stencil tool used in art & drafting)...

Since I was struggling to fall back asleep I moved to the table and pulled out my test scroll. It was full of random marks and some of my early drawing attempts that I used to practice with the dip pen -it's also where I wrote down the dreams from the Rukh. I'd write the list of things I needed, rip the section out of the scroll, and pass the list to someone who could get me what I was asking for. I added some living necessities too like sleep wear and a comb.

The maids that came to give me dinner, and next dose of medicine were not pleased that I wasn't in bed -I was an important guest who was sick after all. And I wasn't pleased to have to drink more of that bitter medicine, but we can't have nice things all the time, now can we?

My voices was strained but I managed to communicate enough. I gave them my list, and laundry (the clothes I wore on the boat) before they left. They'd get me the things the next day. I was instructed to sleep until someone brings me breakfast the next day... which is what I was going to do anyway since the sun was practically gone. I might be a bit of a workaholic but I'm not going to let myself pull an accidental all-nighter when I know I'm still sick. I'm far more self aware than that.

And besides, the Great Bell didn't ring at night.

---

Maids brought my breakfast (& meds) the next morning and let me know that my clothes would be cleaned and dry by the end of the day. I guess they didn't use magic for everything.

They also gave me all of the drafting and inking supplies I asked for except for scissors. In one of the omakes Sinbad was shown cutting his hair with a knife as a part of his normal grooming. I had hoped he was just old fashioned.

For the greater good and the future of my own hair care, I drafted up detailed designs for a few different types of basic scissors. They wouldn't look fancy, but hopefully I had put enough of a detailed explanation on everything for the smith to figure out what I was asking. Steel wasn't developed until the middle ages and some of the counties of this world matched that so I hoped

that God and anime were on my side. I really wanted scissors that would be a good quality.

And if that didn't work I'd just have to get used to using knives and bladed rollers like a regular person.

The Great Bell rung for 10 am. There were at least another 2 hours before someone would show up, to give lunch, that I could ask to take my draft for the scissors to a black Smith.

I should be resting as a sick person. I should be more exhausted and in pain as a sick person. What was making me recover this quickly?

I still didn't feel like laying back down, so I decided to start drafting up the materials and equipment for proving everything I had written in the scrolls I gave the previous day.

Globally, micro-organisms, viruses, and bacteria were not really accept or proved until the late 1800's. Since Magi seems to take place some time around our 100AD-1300, and Yunan hinting at chemical compounds was seen as shocking by Yam, I knew that my bio scrolls were probably causing an uproar in the Black Libra Tower. I refused to use actual people or wait for an outbreak to prove it like how it happened in history -like how John Snow proved it when finding the cause of cholera outbreaks in 1848 and 1854 England. No, I needed to show how to prove these things in a lab, and to do that I was going to need to explain how to keep samples and invent a way to see microorganisms.

First was for a glass petri dish and other containers for samples. I'd need at least 3 -preferably more. I know glass works have been around since BC, and that this world had glass windows in some scenes, but I worried about the quality of the glass contaminating the experiments. I was going to have to boil them beforehand to sterilize them anyway.

Gosh I wish I had access to nonporous, air tight containers, and a temperature controlled environment. The heat and humidity of Sindria could easily mess everything up.

Wait... I suddenly remembered a scene from the Magnostadt arc when they showed how a sample was being stored. They already had good enough glass. I knew there were magic bio experiments but I had no idea how they worked.

With the realization that I was getting ahead myself, I switched to writing about how to use the scientific method to test for germs. It was basically the bread in a bag test to teach young children about germs but with petri dishes. I also wrote about how to analyze samples with a microscope to see micro organisms so I was going to have to figure that out next.

Lunch came as the perfect break.

Just thinking about reinventing this thing made me nervous. I knew magnifying glasses existed in ancient Rome, but they would be nothing like what I was used to. I had to explain how light moves and made multiple diagrams showing how concave and convex lenses affect light as well as the material of the lens. I ended up also showing how to make a telescope even though I knew Yam already had one.

Magicians were the only ones shown with glasses. Maybe now the rest of the world could have them too.

4 o'clock came and so did 3 doctors and a magician. It was less than yesterday, but still more than necessary to treat or analyze one person. I only recognized one of the doctors from the previous day. All of the new faces looked nervous. None of them looked young by any measure, so I really doubted this was their first time treating someone.

They weren't happy to see me at the table and made me return to my bed -their loss.

The doctor from the previous day was the one doing most of the talking. "Your recovery is amazing. You will most likely be better in another 3 days at this rate if not sooner. It's practically a miracle."

I smiled. "It's pretty shocking for me too." As long as I spoke quietly and kept my comments short, I found I could talk again for a bit.

The doctor was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I know you need rest, but would you be willing to answer a few questions about those scrolls from yesterday?

The 3 other men looked expectant. This was why they were here.

"I don't mind as long as you don't make me talk too much."

Then came the question I was expecting since I had first made the scrolls. "I know you are a Prophet and the information came from your visions but is there any way you can prove what you wrote?"

I pointed to the table with the scroll I had started earlier. "I can't prove it with the current equipment I have, so I've been drafting up the needed equipment and processes for proving it."

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

I added, "It's not done, but you're welcome to read what I have so far."

I was thanked as they went to the table they had called me away from when they entered.

'He called it 'visions?' Really?' I had to ask Sinbad later what he was telling his people about me so I could keep the story straight.

The magician confirmed for the others what I wrote about light bending. There was magic to do that, but not everyone is a magician. I had just invented a way for non-magicians to bend light.

Just wait until I show them a prism that can split light into colors. Or teach them how light is perceived in the eye. Or even better, show them the double slit experiment that proves that light is a particle not just a wave... Did they know light was a wave yet?

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

"You said this isn't finished and there is plenty of space in this scroll for more, but would you let us take this back to the tower so we can get started?"

I wanted to say 'no.' I was still coming up with things to add to it, but I also knew that holding things back because I wanted to save paper was a fool's game. Besides, I could always add more to it later.

I nodded and they thanked me before making me promise not to leave my bed. They were grateful for this new scroll but not at the expense of my health -they were doctors after all.

And then they left.

It was probably about 5pm if my internal clock was on schedule, so I had about an hour before the next ring of the Bell.

Even if I wasn't a man of my word, I would have lost the motivation to work with my current project taken from me while I was still in the middle of making it.

So, I did the thing I grew up doing when I was bedridden from illness: I looked out the window. From the bed I could only see the tops of the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. The Tower that was just poking in from the left had to be the Black Libra Tower.

The waves in Sindria were calmer yet stronger than those in Balbadd. It was probably due to Sinbad's influence. He brought stability and security to his people. I could understand why so many chose to follow him or ally with him. But I knew where all this would lead. As he obtains more power and influence he will stop being able to see himself from the pedestal that he and everyone else put him on; his greed will make him blind to the wants and needs of others, and like a middle aged parent that isn't ready for their child to leave the nest he will take out his frustration on the world that was moving on without him. When Sinbad dies at the end of the manga, Drakon realizes that they all put too much on Sinbad's shoulders.

To change Fate, I was going to have to make sure I never put him on that pedestal nor rely on him for much. And I was going to have to convince the 8 Generals to do the same -or at least to start pulling more of the weight.

The 6 o'clock Bell came faster than I expected, as well as my dinner not long after. They brought my clean laundry, a sleeping gown, and some other common clothes and things for my convenience.

I would have preferred something much shorter for the night gown since I hate having a lot of extra fabric around my legs when I already have blankets. I was not going to risk being walked in on by doctors or whoever when sleeping naked, so I would make do for now.

There was no way King Sinbad wasn't going to reward me for those scrolls. If it was some kind of treasure I'd sell it and buy a new wardrobe for myself that actually suited me, and if the reward was a request then I would ask that he pay for everything directly.

The light coming in my windows changed, and I watched my 2nd sunset in Sindria.

When Sinbad found this island 10 years ago, he completely terraformed it. He didn't get rid of all of the vegetation that was here, but he did break down one of the sides to allow for easier access by boat. The side he carved out faced northish towards all of the other known countries, so no boat would have a reason to circle the island. It was a decision that would benefit the merchants and make it easier to defend.

It also meant that my windows faced west, so I could watch the Sun set every day. I couldn't help but see that as a blessing and a curse. Sure not getting the sunrise meant I'd need to put more effort into

waking up in the morning but that wasn't the part I was worried about.

See- The thing is... I have synesthesia (having 2 or more senses overlapping). I see sounds, letters, and numbers as colors and textures. I have it mild enough that I can normally block it out so it's not too distracting (thank God because music is a main stim), but sometimes I'll hear something and get overwhelmed by how it looks.

Each letter and number is a color. So every voice can make every color, but language, pitch, tone, and accent all affect the colors and textures I see from a person's voice like a filter. There have definitely been some people that I struggled to give my full attention to when I first met them because I was entranced by how their voice looked. The more I hear a person's voice the more I'm able to move its visuals to the background so I can focus -desensitizing myself to it.

Luckily, Sinbad's voice is normally not so distracting that I stop paying attention. Since it's like a merger of every voice actor I've heard play him (All the characters I had met so far were like this.) I'm already desensitized. The similarities across all of the VAs meant that his voice looked like a sunset -full of deep purples and magentas, and bright reds, peach, and gold, and with a smooth and flowing texture like painting in acrylic with a wet brush -like a painting of the last moments of a sunset.

His voice was as pretty as he was.

I hadn't actually gotten to see or hear him for a whole day. But I'd get to look at his voice's equivalent every day while living under his protection.

It was frustrating to admit -I barely knew him as a real person- yet I couldn't deny that I missed him. I feel asleep watching the sun set.

((I wasn't going to write about my synesthesia, but this is my fanfic and I thought it might be fun to reference the colors peoples voices make when the characters talk. I'm not going to paint every VA and head cannon, but I will describe them as I go. Ja'far's Japanese and English VAs have voices that look very different so finding the middle ground is proving tricky.

Also, anyone who noticed that the purple I see in Sinbad's voice is the same as the purple I've been using for the illustrations and comics is super smart and cool.))

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad

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senju-sekhmet · 3 years

Text

The Leash (Part 6)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death ~6800 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5 Read on AO3! Disclaimer below the cut!

DISCLAIMER! -i reckon I don’t need the paste it again… but in short: this is a purely self-indulgent work which contains a lot of my own headcanons and whatnot. this chapter especially so! lots of talking and thinking - curious to see what you think!! THANKS FOR READING <3 Ikuro greeted him with a warm smile at the interrogation headquarters. "You produce results fast," he commented after Tobirama explained to him where his research had led him so far. They were sitting in the small office adjourning the holding cell block again. Tobirama could only muster a huff in response. "It is possible I'm being put under pressure by time." His tone was perfectly caustic again.

Ikuro, on the other hand, was entirely unfazed. Tobirama decided he appreciated that about the man; he never had been fond of fainthearted individuals.

"I suggest we start with the least valuable prisoner," Ikuro then turned more serious, placing his broad hand on the table. "There is, after all, a chance this might backfire."

Tobirama nodded. A sensible thought. "That would be Akio." Then, he frowned. "However you noted he's broken already. Our goal is to gain information, too. All we'd confirm would be the drug wasn't lethal. And ascertain the bodily effects of this drug." As he spoke the words, he found the sensible approach - the logical one - didn’t sit too well with him.

Ikuro hummed affirmatively. "What do you suggest, Tobirama?", easily catching the uncertainty.

Tobirama crossed his arms. Frankly he had to ponder the question. There was merit in trying it in those who knew about the leash - but the danger of permanently harming or even killing them was there, too. However did they really know anything about the leash? Would they even relinquish their knowledge?

Had he reason to believe his drug could be considered that dangerous to not… take this risk?

He had no time. You had no time. "Let's try the strongest of them."

Ikuro's pale eyes lit up and flashed his teeth in a grin which otherwise might’ve let a shiver run down Tobirama’s spine. "That would be Zenji. The … polite fellow in the middle holding cell. You met him when you first came here."

Tobirama couldn’t have stopped the roll of his eyes even if he wanted to. He gave an exasperated groan. "Great. I’m thrilled to meet him again." That man would test his patience. Tobirama would refuse to guarantee for his safety.

Luckily, he wasn’t made to make any such promises. Ikuro rose to his feet, Tobirama followed suit. Before they set for the cells though, Tobirama explained his plan. Ikuro only nodded in agreement. An eerie kind of calm was settling over him when they finally entered the Stone shinobi’s cell block. It was not an unfamiliar feeling; rather a welcome kind of dissociation that had been well practiced in the warring states era. They all had, at some point, committed atrocious acts. Tobirama never looked back, his logic had been sound.

Just like this time. And what would follow here might be another ugly entry in a list of infamous cruelties - but another necessary one.

As they walked, he could feel the glances of the other prisoners on him as he passed them - and he spared none of them a single glance.

Once they stood in front of the cell, the lanky man’s eyes lit up in way too much delight. "How's the lady?", Zenji gloated immediately.

Tobirama ignored the question. If that was how he’d play it - he was ready. The ire burning under his skin was causing him to tremble almost still. A discussion, the man knew, might easily lead to bloodshed. And being riled up into beating up a chained up man was below Tobirama’s dignity. Although thinking about it provided some needed relief.

"Why are you keeping them like this?", he inquired quietly, hissing through clenched teeth, wondering about the fact all the cells were adjourned - what they did here, the others could hear.

Ikuro considered Tobirama with a thoughtful glance. "Additional pressure. They hear what we're doing to each of them on top of their own, ah, sessions."

Tobirama had guessed that was the reason.

He still felt like bloody murder. Rage like this - born from revenge - was a low motive, and Tobirama frankly despised himself for this. The only thing that mattered was whether one acted on their emotions or not, he knew. Yet he just had to remind himself of the fact that within less than a week, you'd run out of the despised drug they had tethered you to. And that the man in front of him, Zenji, might know how to save your life.

All things were relative, after all.

Ikuro unlocked Zenji's cell. The man was chained up in the same fashion he had been before - no movement allowed except maybe a wiggle of his toes. The chains were suspended from the walls of the cell and over and over painted with various seals, a few of which Tobirama recognised. Chakra sealing seals mostly, as well as other, sinister uses.

They both stepped inside and Ikuro locked it again.

Zenji gave a haughty laugh. "Not gonna speak to me? Awh, come on. Maybe I'll give you a hint about the leash if you do." He wriggled his eyebrows almost suggestively.

The blood was rushing in Tobirama's ear. His muscles were taut like a bow's string and it took every ounce of his willpower not to at least verbally jump at this man. Don’t, he chanted inwardly, don’t. Briefly, he closed his eyes and shook his head slightly as if to clear the berserk haze that wanted to settle over him.

Surprisingly, it worked somewhat.

Ikuro stepped to Zenji's side. "You're getting a treat, Zenji." A second later, his big hand had grabbed the back of his skull by his hair.

Tobirama stepped closer, procuring the vial from his pocket.

Zenji laughed haughtily. "Ah, ah," his eyes were trained on the vial. "Trying to recreate the leash?"

Tobirama stood right in front of him then, glare icy while the rage inside burned ever hotter. His expression was perfectly neutral, he didn't even bat an eyelash. "I'm going to tether you to the leash, eventually." His voice was nonchalant despite the rage that wanted to eat him up.

Zenji's eyes widened momentarily. Was there a hint of fear in them? But it was gone as soon as Tobirama thought he'd seen it. "You're gonna fail," the Stone shinobi spat, his smugness becoming caustic swiftly. "You can't ever hope to do that."

Tobirama tilted his head to the side, eyebrows rising slowly. "Why is that?", he asked, lazily, disinterested. Perhaps there was merit in trying to engage in a conversation with him, after all.

Zenji tried to whip his head from Ikuro's grasp, who just pulled harder at his scalp. "As if you'd be able to recreate it like that. You're fucking running out of leash and Y/n is gonna fucking die." His voice was dripping with hatred and no small amount of pleasure.

For just a second, Tobirama imagined ripping his throat out with his bare hands if just to ease the fury that was burning through every fiber of his body now; the gory picture helping momentarily not to act on it. Or at least verbally lash out. Still, he knew he’d despise himself for it - such an act was beneath him. The man was key to finding out how to save you. He had to keep telling himself in order to keep the white-hot rage crawling under his skin only. How he managed to retain his poker face was beyond him. Maybe the gruesome image did help.

He drew his lips into a condescending sneer. "I'm one of Konoha's most distinguished scientists. Don't think for a second I couldn't recreate anything your village came up with." His voice was dripping with arrogance.

Zenji was retorting with a sneer of his own. Ikuro's lips were drawn in a fine smile. "You're fucking desperate is what you are," he snickered, "That drug is impossible to recreate. Too complicated."

Tobirama gave only a lazy sigh and topped it off with an annoyed roll of his eyes. "Yes, I suppose for the likes of you that might be true." He leaned in a little. "I'm not you , though. Eventually, I will. And in the meanwhile, I'm going to test every single one of my experiments on you. You know," he mustered the man then a little as if he was nothing more than an object. "I'm wondering if you're actually afraid."

Zenji's eyelid twitched and he threw himself into the restraints binding him. Ikuro's grip was unrelenting, but he frowned slightly. "Afraid? Afraid?! You can't even risk me!", his voice was shrill and his face became contorted by fury.

Interesting. Ikuro thought so too - his pale eyes had narrowed and stared at Tobirama intently.

Tobirama remained impassive, just swishing the vial back and forth with a leisure movement of his wrist. The truth was he was far from that. He wondered if beating on this man until he spilled the beans really wasn't an option. But he was so close. Zenji had already made a mistake, and Tobirama had caught onto it, of course. Still, he needed confirmation. "I don't see why." He knew better than to keep up with this kind of verbal wrestling. That would only yield power to the prisoner.

Still, the hint had been obvious.

Zenji clenched his jaw tightly now. He, too, seemed to have realised his mistake.

A shrill voice floated over the corridor. The loony witch from the far end, Tobirama figured. "Zenji, you fucking idiot!"

She did sound coherently pissed now.

Unluckily for Zenji, that was the confirmation he needed. Time to take a shot at the obvious target. Tobirama leaned back, genuinely smug now. Both eyebrows arched up, his tone as sweet as sugar. "You're the only one left who knows how to create the leash, hm?"

Zenji apparently decided to break through the figurative front then - his lips drew in a condescending sneer again. "Alright, smart science boy. Assuming you brought all of the remaining leash with you to this godforsaken village," he began in a tone that made Tobirama's neck hair stand up. "Your precious lady has had about seven days to live, give or take, since we got here."

Tobirama already wanted to beat his face into a pulp now - how he spoke of your life in a simple calculation; an unfortunately very correct one - it was maddening. His heartbeat thundered through his skull as his world was incinerated in white-hot ire; he could barely feel the pain in his jaw from how hard he bit down on his teeth.

Zenji continued. "Now I kinda lost feeling for time in this fucking cell, but it couldn't have been more than two. So how about this, Tobirama Senju - all I have to do is last a few more days and then my knowledge will be meaningless because-" he leaned forward, wearing a huge, fat grin, "- Y/n's gonna have left this world, screaming and writhing in agony."

Tobirama's heartbeat was through the roof now. His fists clenched so hard, the vial might break in them but he did not move an inch.

"Unless,... you put her out of her misery beforehand."

For the fraction of a second, eerie silence filled the cell.

Tobirama's fist shot out before Ikuro could even do so much as realise what was about to happen. A sickening crunch echoed through the cell as it made contact with Zenji's lower jaw, who howled in pain in response.

"Tobirama!" Ikuro cautioned, pale eyes ablaze now. The situation was getting out of hand.

Tobirama almost didn't even register the warning. All he heard was the rhythm beating inside him as a fine tremor of fury shook him. His scarlet stare held him pinned, eyes ablaze - if looks could kill, Zenji would be dead now.

This man. How dared he.

How dared he to insinuate- To even think Tobirama would- That he couldn’t-

Zenji spat blood before Tobirama's feet. "I'm gonna fucking relish telling you it all once she's dead," he repeated, blood trickling down his chin, but mien filled with hatred. "You're never gonna crack how the leash is made in five days!" He drew his lips into an ugly grin, marred by the blood blood of his split lip.

Tobirama's fist balled again to deliver another blow to his face, but Ikuro cleared his throat authoritatively. In an instant, Tobirama's free hand had grasped around Zenji's broken mandibular bone and forced it forward with a lot more pressure than necessary. He made sure to put extra force on the side he had punched, just to be safe. If Ikuro had cautioned him not to worsen the prisoner’s injury, Tobirama did not hear it. He didn’t care, either. Zenji should be grateful Tobirama didn’t punch him again.

The prisoner howled in pain as he was barely able to resist his mouth being forced open simply due to the injury, Ikuro supporting by tilting his head back now. "Time for your medicine," Tobirama announced in an ice cold tone as he poured the contents of the vial into Zenji's mouth.

In an attempt to gag or wheeze it right back out he already tried to constrict his pharyngeal muscles, but Tobirama had seized his cricoid and pressed down harshly enough to force him to swallow - or else he'd suffocate.

Which he did, just a moment later.

For good measure, Tobirama kept the pressure up a few seconds longer, however.

When he released him, Zenji wheezed. "Fuck you," he spat, but his pupils began to dilatate already.

"Start," Tobirama commanded Ikuro in a pressed tone, shaking from fury still, who nodded and rested his hand on Zenji's head in order to assault the man's mind.

Tobirama meanwhile went for his throat to monitor his body with his chakra - sadly, he really did need to keep him alive. Which was difficult, as his focus was still clouded by the rage - the maddening fury he’d chastise himself for later.

The effects of his drug were - initially - comparable to the leash. The sensory overload of the brain worked the exact same way he had witnessed in you after indigestion - though now, it mingled with Ikuro's chakra, who was smothering him in what probably was a genjutsu or some other kind of mental assault. Tobirama couldn't help but marvel the expert level with which the man proceeded, comparing it to the brute force he had used on Akio. There was something to be learned here in the ways he didn't just smother him but let his chakra seep through every little crack of Zenji's mind, delivering mental stabs whenever he felt a crack in his mental fortress while coating him in a constant onslaught of pressure; a thick blanket of neverending slices at Zenji’s mind that made Tobirama shudder. It was much like watching a snake kill its prey - winding around the struggling victim tighter and tighter; the hopeless struggle of the despondent creature seemed to still as it starts to realise its demise while the snake viciously enjoys every drip of agony it can milk from it until finally, the unfortunate soul can no longer breathe.

Zenji's chakra on the other hand was sluggish - but not as subdued as Tobirama had hoped. The effect was there and the man definitely should feel his control over his chakra being significantly hampered, but it wasn't the same as Tobirama had seen in you. Stunted, yes, but not as frozen.

He was on the right path, after all.

Still, the screams Ikuro elicited from Zenji were music to Tobirama's ears. Just like the fact that physically, the man was fine. Tobirama flat out refused to heal the broken jaw, however. He didn't know how long the session lasted, but somewhere along the line, Zenji hat stilled. His head had tilted forward, the body limp.

"Enough," Ikuro announced finally, frowning.

Tobirama gave the man another brief once-over to make sure he was fine - besides the abused mind - then he removed his hand from his throat. His head felt dizzy. The ache in his heart was as agonizing as ever now that the rage had subsided. Ikuro clicked his tongue and waved his hand for Tobirama to follow. They headed back to the office. This time, he didn't feel the gazes of the other prisoners on his back.

Interesting.

Once in the office, Ikuro crossed his arms. "I don't think I need to explain-"

Tobirama cut him short with a wave of his hand. He didn't have time for a lecture. "I lost my composure. It won't happen again."

Ikuro stared back for a moment longer, then he walked to the desk. "Should I get the impression you're too emotionally biased to interrogate this man, someone else will have to conduct your experiments here."

"Understood." Like hell Tobirama would allow for that to happen.

Ikuro nodded, then folded his hands in front of him. "This was an interesting session nonetheless."

Tobirama crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well, I'm glad you perceived it as such." He didn't cut back on the sarcasm.

Ikuro exhaled a sigh. "We have ascertained that Zenji is the only one who knows how to create the leash. And when I tried to pry open his mind, I found your little experiment made him a lot more susceptible to my methods." A fine smile formed on his lips.

Tobirama frowned slightly. The compliment felt sour still - he remembered how this was what you had suffered, and how it hadn't been near what the leash could do. In fact, by the end of the session Zenji's chakra control had been almost normal again.

No withdrawal effect, either.

"I did not break him still," Ikuro continued, "But I could take brief glimpses at the leash's creation, if I upped the pressure a lot."

That comment alone sent a jolt down Tobirama’s spine and he took a quick step forward. "Tell me."

"I'll show you," Ikuro held Tobirama's gaze with unwavering determination, and Tobirama stared back into the pale, turquoise eyes.

Then suddenly, he felt an image being pushed onto him - a genjutsu. Almost instinctively, he wanted to release it simply for the intrusion it caused - then he remembered what this was for. It was quite delicate anyway - fragments, loose images and echoes of sensations. Zenji's, Tobirama realised. He was holding a bottle filled with a clear substance. His chakra did something - a process that Tobirama could only guess at because every time he - Ikuro - tried to look closer, it was as if someone shoved him away. Still, there were some leads. Ways in which his chakra threaded through the liquid. Tiny - but something to go with - pieces of a puzzle. Where he still was missing about most parts of. It hinted at the utmost delicate process that seemed to be the creation of the leash - but it was proof. Proof that it truly was something of a chakra weaving process that created the leash.

"Release." Ikuro announced.

Tobirama's head was swimming again. A hand raked through his hair.

This was a lead. He should feel excited. Hopeful. Eager to work on it. Yet his mind wouldn't push past the crushing sense of dissatisfaction with this experiment, his outburst - and worst of all, Zenji's promise.

I'm gonna fucking relish telling you it all once she's dead.

Five days. He just had five days left and all he had was a vague lead and an experiment with a lukewarm result at least. Time - he was running out of time . His heart was thundering in his chest as his breaths came deeper than usual. He closed his eyes briefly.

If only he had more time.

Giving up was not an option. He'd just work harder. He'd sacrifice who knew what to make this work.

He breathed in deeply to try and alleviate the budding agony and dread inside him. It didn't work well. The pain stabbed at his heart, the sorrow had gripped him again. Tobirama was sure that if he closed his eyes, he'd see your face - in sheer agony.

Unless,... you put her out of her misery beforehand.

He swallowed the lump down his throat. It felt dry. The emotions that were swirling inside him were tiring him out; much like the days before, it was all too much. First the rage, and now the looming sense of doom and this utter despair he felt he couldn’t escape. He didn’t want to feel more, he couldn’t he was spent, but he did nonetheless, like a wound that couldn’t, wouldn’t stop bleeding. He was taking deep breaths against - against all this.

His gaze wandered to the clock.

Damn. You should have been awake for quite some time now.

"I will be back as soon as I have synthesised my next experiment. This is a start." He bowed curtly to thank Ikuro, who nodded in reply. "I need to go. See you soon."

Then, the world around him lurched as he teleported straight to your room.

________

Your nightmare had been exceptionally vivid this time.

Not just a horrible patchwork of memories from the past few weeks but a concise, terribly real scenario. Every single bit of the memory had felt like as though you were back in the dreadful hideout for sure. The screams echoed off the wall as they carved your flesh like a sculpture, the pain a thousand times worse due to this damn drug. By the time it had ended, your tormentor had cut you apart.

But you wouldn't die.

You never died.

The agony just never ended.

It all faded into a memory of pain supplied by your abused body. Eventually, the world was black. Then you slept. And when you woke, it still was dark.

With a sigh, you removed the blindfold from your eyes. Everything stayed dark. You forced yourself to take even breaths.

This had been the third time you had taken the leash since you had been rescued.

How many more would follow?

Your breathing picked up.

Dark. It was all too dark.

Your eyes wandered to where you knew the window was, curtain drawn closed. You really had to tell Tobirama to keep that open if you now started to become afraid of darkness so much. Then again, that might lead to more questions. Questions you didn’t want to answer. For now, the pain in your whole body was a dull echo, but you knew that’d change drastically again when you moved. No matter. You had to. The world was closing in around you and and your heart was hammering against your ribs so harshly you thought it might jump out.

Yelping past clenched teeth you dragged your haggard form to the window again, staggering through the darkness, not even bothering with the nightstand lamp this time. You didn’t need to. You whimpered deplorably from the aches that now flared through all of you, echoes of the torment that stabbed and burned.

You still felt so weak. It was dumb to think you had recovered much already - and without your own chakra, no less - but still. You absolutely detested this weakness.

This helplessness.

You grasped the curtain for support as much as you had to to pull it open. You had to fumble for it with a shaking hand, the other grasped the window sill below.

“J-j-just o-open…”, you stuttered as you ripped aimlessly at it.

Your breaths were coming so fast now your sight was blackening, your limbs feeling fuzzy. The panic was driving tears into your eyes and wrenching sobs from you.

Was this how you’d start every day, now?

Bright sunlight flooded the room finally. Instantly, both your hands clung to the sill then for support while you doused in the sight of the village. The very obvious signals your body was giving you to rest again were ignored in favour of relishing in this moment.

Safe. You were safe.

You sniffled as the tears dried down and the fright ebbed down. Somewhat. You wanted to stay like this longer, but you knew you really shouldn’t. Besides, the more you calmed, the more unbearable the pain became in all of you. Plus, if Tobirama caught you now, he’d be livid. He hated repeating himself. It wasn’t as though he was wrong, anyway.

You opted for sitting on the bed again and looking out of the window from there. A small comfort.

“Okay,” you murmured to yourself in preparation of the way back. With a deep breath you let go of the window sill and turned around.

A moment later your shaky foothold tipped, the ankle twisted - and with an agonised yelp that nearly had been a loud scream, you fell to the floor. Instinctively you broke the fall correctly, your training ensured that. Even in this deplorable state.

But the pain was searing. It damn near was equal to the torment - or at least it felt like that. You curled into a fetal position on yourself as your mouth was open in a silent scream.

You didn’t want anyone to get in now.

Tears were flowing freely over your cheeks. You kept silent. Silence had been a lesson well-practiced - though of course the Stone shinobi had made you scream so much your voice still was hoarse, that had been after a lot of silence.

You’d endure this, too.

Even so, lying on the cold floor - it felt just like after all the times they’d tortured you and then shoved you back into that dark pit. Helplessly on the ground with the agony fresh on your mind and weakened by the leash, by all the misery you were in. Unable to move from sheer pain alone, really-

Your chest was closing in again.

The room was becoming darker.

No, no, no. Not now. It’d be fine eventually - right? Wait, what if it wasn’t? Shit, where did that come from now? You mustn’t think like that. But here you were. Alone. On a cold floor. In pain- Bleeding?

No- You were sure if you opened your eyes now, they’d open to nothing but darkness. “N-no…”, you whimpered miserably, your arms covering your face as you curled up even tighter.

Cold.

Everything was cold, you are alone - There is nobody here, they’ll come again, and again for you.

…

“What the hell?! ”

You had no idea how long you had been laying there when the familiar, furious voice ripped through your consciousness like a horn’s blow. The world was slowing down again. You suddenly became aware of the fact you had been wheezing erratically. Trembling. The tears - an odd tear would run over your cheek. But you had stilled perfectly. You heard fast steps approaching. You tensed.

They stopped in front of you. Clothes rustled.

“Y/n?” - the voice was different now - panicked. Softer.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see Tobirama’s black clothes in front of you. He was crouching. His hand was on your shoulder, you realised. A warm touch.

Your breathing levelled out.

You were safe.

You had just fallen down. Silly.

“I fell,” you admitted defeatedly, your gaze seeking his face hesitantly. This was embarrassing enough as it was, but Tobirama - he looked perfectly anguished himself. His scarlet eyes mustered you up and down, there was urgency in his expression. You sighed and began to heave your chest off the ground with your arms, ignoring the pain again.

“You shouldn’t have-,” he began in a scolding tone, but the moment you moved, it became stern. ”No, don’t do that.” The worry was mellowing it down still.

His arm snuck around your shoulder to heft you up from the floor. You became utterly stiff from the pain that shot through you as you were moved, but you uttered no more than a hiss past your clenched teeth. Your arm moved to rest around his waist for support, but the way you fisted the fabric of his black shirt was telltale, nonetheless.

Which Tobirama picked up on easily. “Just one step,” he muttered tersely. Frankly with the force he put in his grip he might as well carry you, but you appreciated the fact he granted you this shred of dignity. You took the step as gracefully as possible, which was simple given how Tobirama shouldered near all of your weight. You whimpered as you sat down the ankle you had fallen over on the floor.

“Easy,” Tobirama supplied immediately, holding you closer, his free hand securing your waist tightly.

His arm released you only momentarily as you leaned forward to spin and sit on the bed, but his palm lingered on your shoulder the whole time. He grasped your legs gingerly to help swing them into bed again when you turned to lie down.

You stared up at the ceiling once you had pulled the blanket over you. The trembles had ceased; your breathing was normal again.

You were safe.

Tobirama didn’t waste time, either. “What have you been doing?”, his tone was as strict as it was accusing. The mellowing worry had turned down a notch now that you were in bed again it seems.

You felt bold when you turned your gaze to meet his again. He was frowning, the scarlet eyes were ablaze. “I did say you could knock next time,” you answered in a small voice.

The answer was prompt. “So you’d have time to get back into bed, you mean?”, strict was becoming angered rapidly.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d have made that in time.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the face scrunched in a frown and the eyelids narrowed to slits. No, he was pissed off. You sighed.

Your scathing comment didn’t even make him bat an eyelash. “Yn/!” If anything, the quip had angered him more, if that outburst was anything to go by. “You must rest,” he began sternly. “Most likely that stunt has ripped at your healing wounds and inflicted damage - setting you back. Not to mention you need to recover more strength first.” He extended a hand as he argued, frustration leaking into his voice.

“I know, Tobirama,” you snapped back. Both of your aching arms rose to your face to cover it. “I am painfully aware.”

He fell silent for a moment, the comment earned you a low huff from him. “So then why do I see you anywhere but your bed whenever I come around?”, again, his tone was unfazed. More stern, in fact. You knew your comments were riling him up.

Because I feel like I’m suffocating when I’m alone in the dark and that fucking window is the only thing that convinces me I’m free.

“I’m going a little crazy here,” you supplied, figuring that wasn’t even a lie. “I’m either drugged, becoming delirious or flat out in pain, as you know.” That much definitely wasn’t a lie.

It made Tobirama balk a little. Peeking past your hands you saw his shoulders droop, his arms at his side now. Weird. You had expected something along the lines of ‘it’ll be over soon’ or ‘pull yourself together’ - not in an ignorant or diminutive way, but rather something to remind you this was temporary. That all you had to do was be stronger for a little while. Tobirama wasn’t great at comfort to begin with, so he’d stick with the logical aspects of the situation, naturally.

“Tobirama?”, you inquired then, when he didn’t speak up again.

“I know,” he then answered, the anger fading somewhat. His mien remained firm, but he took a seat on the edge of your bed now to level out the height difference somewhat. Because that hadn’t escaped your notice either. “It is a difficult situation, but you must rest. I don’t want you going on walks now. At all.” His gaze lifted up to your eyes again - the frown still present.

Your hands dropped to your side again. Now was your turn to avoid his gaze. “I just wanted to pull the curtains back, Tobirama,” you explained in a quiet voice, your ironic undertone vanished. “I had to look outside.”

You heard him take a sharp breath and then - “Y/n, you mustn’t-”, then he abruptly paused. For a few moments, the room was completely silent. "Is… that why you were crying?", he asked suddenly, his voice dropping the strictness, completely soft again.

You didn’t answer him, but you closed your eyes. You had to, they were becoming wet again.

“Y/n…”, Tobirama whispered brokenly, his hand reaching for yours at his side. His grip was tight, his thumb ran smoothing circles over your skin. You exhaled a little gasp when you felt his chakra graze over your network in the way you were so familiar with, so warm and welcome.

“I’ll try not to get up again,” you murmured after a moment of quiet comfort. “Maybe just leave the curtain open.” You sighed. It wasn’t as though you didn’t understand his objections to you moving around - your ankle was testament to that - but the panic was just so much worse.

Tobirama didn’t reply to that directly but simply kept caressing you both outwardly and inwardly. “Alright.” He finally spoke. “Perhaps… I can try to be here earlier, too.”

You opened your eyes again to find his gaze was cast down at your body again, his eyebrows furrowed in worry again. You never had seen Tobirama in this much distress since these last few days. “You don’t have to. You’re busy,” your voice was becoming more somber again.

“We talked about that already.” Back to the firm tone, shutting the discussion down, it seems. Tobirama hated discussing in the first place, and with your time basically dictated by a vile drug that he had to administer regularly there wasn’t even much arguing ground on your behalf. You rolled your eyes.

His hand released yours and was pushing the blanket aside then, “I’ll see what I can do for you now,” he mumbled, then, already focused as he turned himself to face your side more.

You gave a low sigh. “I’d say save your concentration and chakra, but-”

Tobirama’s voice instantly was terse again. “Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly.” You resigned and helped by pulling up the gown somewhat as he placed both palms on your abdomen again. You felt his chakra’s presence intensify as he began and couldn’t help but gaze at his face while he first examined you and then went to heal - his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Over time, that became more dismayed. Of course.

Much like the last time, the procedure took its pretty time simply for how intricate the work was - how little chakra he could actually use in terms of overloading you still, and when he did, he’d have to put it to its best use. The thoroughly comfortable feeling was settling in soon however as the aches dulled and you began to relax under his treatment. You’d never deny this wasn’t good, no. Especially when he directed his attention to your ankle, the sensation was warming, itchy almost in how the joint began to ache less in tune with the healing warmth swirling inside of it.

After quite a while he retreated with a finishing brush over your network, which you let warmly hum in response. As much as you could, anyway. It’d never not feel alien to you how your chakra was there - inside you - and yet not ready at your disposal. When Tobirama drew his hands back, his face remained scrunched up.

“As I said,” and here he was again, scolding, naturally. “There was quite some damage to your wounds. And you sprained your ankle.” He crossed his legs and rested both arms on the edge of the bed. “I’ve repaired quite a lot of it. Y/n, you’re barely-”

You wanted to prop your head up your palm and rest on your side, but you were positive he’d yell at you. You opted for quipping again. “-healed and need to rest.”

His frown deepened. “I can also just physically stitch you up if the sight of those ripping serves as a better reminder for you. Because that’s what you’re doing, internally.”

Ouch. He fought back. “No, thank you.” You deflated and sighed. “I’m trying.”

That served to mellow him down significantly again and his shoulders slumped somewhat. He didn’t speak up again though, but his gaze had fallen to the floor, seemingly lost in ponder.

You simply eyed him for a moment before you tilted your head slightly. “Well, I ruined the mood, didn’t I?”, you attempted a little laugh, but Tobirama could only shrug his shoulders in what you think might’ve been an ironic motion. You frowned. “What’s wrong, Tobirama?”

His gaze lifted to gaze at you from the side, cautiously now. It didn’t sit well with you. “Just stay in bed, Y/n.”

You arched up an eyebrow. That was not what truly had been on his mind now. The lack of sternness in his voice proved that. “I know I should,” you began, “but that is not what is on your mind.” His nostrils flared slightly. “Tell me, Tobirama. Is everything getting too much for you? You don’t need to take care of me, too. That’s why I am here.” It still baffled you how much he did in the first place, yet-

“No,” he firmly cut you short. His arms crossed in front of his chest as he slightly leaned back. “I’m fine taking care of you and researching this leash.” You believed that much with how much conviction he spoke it.

“Then what is it, Tobirama?”, you demanded now. “Because I have the fleeting notion it’s to do with me.” And you didn’t like that at all.

He closed his eyes and sighed. “It’ll be fine, Y/n. Don’t worry about that. Just rest and get better.”

Anger started to flare in you. To be bedridden and get basically yelled at for drawing curtains back was one thing. But to actively be kept in the dark was another one. However you’d still try reason first before you went to demanding things because open confrontation only got you so far. “I’m injured, Tobirama. Not mentally capacitated. You might as well tell me, because I caught on the fact something is weighing on you and at the very least I’ll now worry as to why that is. Even if you tell me not to. So, please.”

Tobirama straightened and squared his shoulders a little. "Honestly, the only thing you have to worry about is your own recovery." He was getting more terse again.

You were onto something. You narrowed your eyes. "Fine. Don't tell me. I'll just get up after, scream until someone gets around and demand to speak to Hashirama." You had every intention of going through with that. You'd have to be fast though - weakness would settle in soon.

Tobirama clenched his teeth, his head whipped around to you to stare at you downright menacingly. "You will do no such thing."

"I absolutely will, unless you tell me."

Tobirama’s eyes closed slowly. He shifted back to his original position. When he opened them again, his scarlet pupils darted to the side to pin you with an intense stare, his mien was grave now. Your pulse picked up. Instinctively you braced yourself by heaving your chest up with both your elbows. Thanks to his recent treatment, the pain was dull, for now. Tobirama didn’t even protest when you moved. It just served to make you more tense.

“Creating more of the leash is proving to be a difficult task I’ve not yet accomplished,” he finally churned out, slowly, against his will, almost.

You gulped. Wait. That meant- “How much is left?”, you asked before you could even comprehend what you just said.

Tobirama closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He didn’t want to tell you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know anymore. “Five and a half days at our current rate.”

Around you, the world seemed to lurch like when he teleported you with the hiraishin seal. Your ears felt stuffy, your vision became a tunnel focusing on the face of your beloved and yet gazing right through him as darkness threatened. You felt numb.

Five and a half days.

Right now, you had five and a half days left to live.

And you wouldn’t pass peacefully, that much you had experienced before.

Your elbows gave out as you limply crashed back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Breathing was becoming harder as the figurative weight of the news was bearing down on your chest. Before you knew it, you were wheezing again. Ugly sobs were breaking past your lips and a wet sensation rolled down the sides of your face. Tears, you realised.

Faintly you realised Tobirama shifted. A hand took yours in it firmly, another on your shoulder. He was talking, but you didn’t hear anything. Not right away, anyhow. It was only when you felt his chakra again that you became more grounded again, but even then, it still was hard not to burst all over again.

“Y/n,” he pleaded, over and over again. Your blurry vision shifted to focus on his face, closer to yours now. It looked as agonized as you felt. There was a tremble in his deep voice. Your breathing levelled out slowly. Your free hand slowly reached for the one he had put on your shoulder as you sought his gaze again.

“Tell me more,” you urged, gulping.

“I’m not sure if-”, he hesitated.

“I want to know everything, dammit!”, you almost shouted.

Tobirama’s eyes closed, he winced as though you had physically slapped him.

And then proceeded to tell you - everything. What this leash was - besides what you knew it did to you - what he knew so far. The problem he faced. Instantly, you realised the task he faced was not just ‘difficult’. It was near impossible to achieve in such a short timespan.

“I’m doing all I can, I swear,” he finished, and the sincerity of the statement had the timbre of his voice shaking. His scarlet eyes were glistening - the hand you put on his on your shoulder reached for his face. No, you’d never question his resolve to save you. Neither his determination to keep you from any harm - his secrecy had just been another facet of that.

An eerie calm gripped you.

“I know,” you whispered, stoic. A sad smile stretched your lips. “If there’s anyone in Konoha who can figure it out, it’s you.” You believed that with every fiber of your being.

Tobirama frowned, tilting his head slightly. His breath shook.

“You need more time,” you added, your thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“There isn’t any, Y/n,” he answered, broken.

“Not if we proceed like this,” you agreed, somber. You couldn’t believe your next words, but here you were. You knew exactly what you needed to do - duty, if you will, albeit calling it that was odd considering it was your own survival that was on the line. Still. You were the one making the sacrifice.

“You start giving me what you have of the leash at the greatest possible interval.”

Tobirama’s face fell completely, the words hitting him almost like you had slapped his cheek.

“What?!”

#tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #sekhmet writes

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kingstylesdaily · 4 years

Text

Why Harry Styles Just Scored His First No. 1 Song

Like any boy band alumnus, he first had to overcome radio’s bias against teen heartthrobs.

Late summer is a great time for sleeper hits: songs that have been hanging around the charts for months and finally hit their stride. Four years ago, in August 2016, Sia’s “Cheap Thrills” reached No. 1 after knocking around the charts since the prior winter, getting its final boost from a Sean Paul remix. In September 2018, Maroon 5’s year-old “Girls Like You” slipped into the top slot after wafting around the Top 10 for more than four months, with a Cardi B verse putting it over the edge. Last year around Labor Day, Lizzo finally topped the Hot 100 with “Truth Hurts,” a song that was two years old and had been rising gradually on the chart since the spring.

This year’s sleeper hit is “Watermelon Sugar,” a wisp of a song by boy bander–turned–self-styled rock star Harry Styles. With a name inspired by Richard Brautigan’s hippie-era, post-apocalyptic novella In Watermelon Sugar, Styles’ lackadaisical tune is not only a sleeper but a grower, the sort of hit that sneaks up on you—I wasn’t sure it even had a fully written chorus the first time I heard it, and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone. Indeed, the whole nation took its time deciding that this quirky ditty would give the starriest, most eccentric member of One Direction his first-ever U.S. chart-topper.

youtube

“Watermelon Sugar” is the third single promoted from Styles’ second solo album Fine Line, which was released last December. That alone is remarkable, given the challenge in the digital age of generating chart interest in anything other than an album’s first couple of singles. Generally, in an era when all of an album’s songs are available to be consumed the day the album drops, you need a remix or a special guest of some kind to gin up chart action months after the song first hits streaming. “Sugar” has none of those. To be sure, there was some gimmickry fueling the song’s leap to the top, albeit of an old-fashioned kind: The song had its best week of sales ever thanks to an assortment of limited-edition vinyl and cassette singles that came bundled with a digital download. Those sales got “Sugar” the last mile on the charts, but Columbia Records wouldn’t have put the physical goods on sale if the song wasn’t already a radio smash—“Sugar” currently has the second-biggest U.S. airplay audience—and they knew they had an opening between current hits by Taylor Swift and a pair of lascivious female rappers I’ll almost certainly be writing about in this space next week. So, fair play to Team Harry: They took advantage of an open chart window, a tactic as old as the Hot 100 itself.

As “Sugar” leaps from No. 7 to No. 1 on the Hot 100 this week—essentially switching places with his ex-girlfriend Taylor Swift’s “Cardigan,” which falls to No. 8—Styles scores only the second-ever chart-topper by a member of One Direction. That includes all of the hits by 1D itself. In its five years of recording, from 2011 through 2015, the band never scored a Hot 100 No. 1. This despite topping the Billboard 200 album chart with its first four studio albums, the only group in history to launch a career with that haul. So … what was that other 1D-affiliated Hot 100–topper I mentioned? It was by ex-member Zayn Malik, the only member to break from the crew while it was still active. Zayn’s smoldering, Weeknd-esque boudoir jam “Pillowtalk” debuted at No. 1—and spent a solitary week there—in the winter of 2016, fueled by blockbuster streams and downloads ginned up by 1D superfans still mourning his departure the prior year and the group’s resulting, presumably permanent hiatus.

Explaining how the top-selling boy band of the 2010s could shift so many CDs and downloads but generate only two No. 1 singles means briefly recapping the fraught history of boy bands and the charts. Selling albums has never been hard for pinup pop groups, since the days of Meet the Beatles! and More of the Monkees. And in the ’70s and ’80s, such precision sing-and-dance troupes as the Jackson 5, the Osmonds, and New Edition managed to generate both gold albums and chart-conquering singles. In 1989, New Kids on the Block had the year’s second-biggest album and four of the year’s top singles, including a pair of No. 1s. But starting in the ’90s, as U.S. radio networks consolidated (fueled by the 1996 Telecommunications Act) and programmers more narrowly targeted specific demographics, radio stations shied away from maximalist teen-pop that appealed primarily to under-18 audiences. By the end of that decade, even as boy bands were enjoying a new wave of TRL-fueled popularity, radio became a chart handicap for them. The Backstreet Boys and ’N Sync had the top-selling albums of 1999 and 2000, respectively—the diamond-selling Millennium and No Strings Attached—but only scored a solitary Hot 100 topper between them, ’N Sync’s “It’s Gonna Be Me.” (Backstreet never hit No. 1: The deathless “I Want It That Way” peaked at No. 6.)

This radio bias against boy bands has persisted into the 21st century. And ever since the Hot 100 went digital about a decade and a half ago, teen-pop’s chart placements have been the result of a battle between rabid downloaders and radio gatekeepers—massive digital sales compensating for modest radio play. For example, radio was what kept the Jonas Brothers from scoring any chart-topping hits during their original wave of teen idoldom; their biggest hit of the ’00s, the No. 5 hit “Burnin’ Up,” sold 2 million downloads but only ranked 55th at U.S. radio. By the ’10s, the same fate befell one-man boy band Justin Bieber. In this long-running Slate series, I have chronicled the blow-by-blow between Justin Bieber and radio programmers that swung from Justin as hit-starved teen idol in the early ’10s to dominant young-adult chart-dominator in the late ’10s. In the early ’10s period, Bieber was a YouTube and iTunes demigod with not a single radio smash to his name. He could sell a half-million downloads of “Boyfriend” in a week and still fall short of the No. 1 spot, thanks (no thanks) to radio.

For One Direction, the chart patterns were the same. A Frankenstein’s monster that Simon Cowell famously threw together in 2010 on his televised competition The X Factor from five solo competitors—Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, and Louis Tomlinson—1D continually found its singles dragged down on the Hot 100 by radio, even as the band sold truckloads of albums. The pattern was set in fall 2012 when “Live While We’re Young” debuted with a staggering 341,000 downloads but could only get to No. 3 on the Hot 100, thanks to its 50th-ranked radio airplay. In the summer of 2013, the slyly Who-interpolating “Best Song Ever” became 1D’s highest-charting hit ever, debuting at No. 2 with record video views and near-record downloads, but at radio it never got past No. 53. “Story of My Life” (No. 6, 2014), “Drag Me Down” (No. 3, 2015)—no matter how many downloads sold or videos viewed, 1D could never top the Hot 100 so long as its radio spins remained limited.

The reason I’m running down all of this granular chart data is it reveals the hurdles both 1D and its post-breakup soloists had to overcome to top the Hot 100. Like Justin Bieber, they had to become credible radio fodder with adults as well as kids. With his early break from the group, Zayn was the first to pull this off. Though “Pillowtalk” debuted at No. 1 largely due to massive sales and streams, the carnal song did eventually become a No. 4–ranked airplay hit. Cleverly, Zayn had chosen a then-current EDM-inflected R&B mode and dropped his debut while the Weeknd was between albums. Other former 1D-ers have had their share of solid radio hits, including Liam Payne’s hip-hop–inflected “Strip That Down” featuring Quavo of Migos (No. 10 on the Hot 100, No. 4 on Radio Songs) and Niall Horan’s softly bopping pop jam “Slow Hands” (No. 11 Hot 100, No. 2 Radio Songs).

And Harry Styles? He decided to make things harder on himself. His 2017 debut album was chockablock with old-school classic rock. This would be like launching a career in 1964 with big-band jazz. While Styles’ fame ensured a big launch for his Bowie-esque single “Sign of the Times”—it opened, and peaked, at No. 4 on the Hot 100, fueled by strong downloads—radio showed only moderate interest. It eventually reached a modest No. 21 on the airplay chart. Later Harry singles like the twangy “Two Ghosts” and the thrashy “Kiwi” missed the Hot 100 and had little radio profile beyond a handful of pure-pop stations that were loyal to Styles from his 1D days. One admired Harry for following his artistic muse—more Joni Mitchell than Justin Bieber—but as a pop star, he arguably squandered his momentum coming out of One Direction.

What has made Fine Line, Styles’ sophomore album, such a clever left turn is he retained the rock flavor he naturally gravitates toward but converted it into mellow California-style surf-pop, and he let his production team—Tyler Johnson and Thomas “Kid Harpoon” Hull—fashion the songs into percolating radio jams. Each single has opened the door a bit wider: “Lights Up,” a No. 17 last October, is lightly strummed beach music with ethereal backing vocals. And “Adore You,” a No. 6 hit in April (for my money, still Styles’ best single), is thumping electropop. “Adore” in particular served as Styles’ entrée onto radio’s A-list—it reached No. 1 on mainstream Top 40 stations and No. 2 on Radio Songs by early summer.

With this beachhead established, Harry was finally free to let his freak flag fly with “Watermelon Sugar,” which is simultaneously his oddest single and his most infectious. The chorus consists of nothing more than the line “Watermelon sugar high” repeated a half-dozen or more times, with emphasis on the “HIGH.” (TikTok users have keyed into this idiosyncrasy, sharing videos in which the “high” gets its own video edit of the user playacting her best stoner face.) Last November, when Styles did double-duty hosting and singing on Saturday Night Live, “Sugar” was one of the songs he performed, and in that indoor setting, it came off as willfully quirky and seasonally incongruous; the song’s first verse line is “Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin’.” Now, timed for 2020’s beach season—complete with a video filled with beautiful people on the shore, shot just before the pandemic and, according to a title card, “dedicated to touching”—it’s sitting atop the hit parade.

In short, Harry Styles finally has a profile on the radio and on the Hot 100 that matches his profile on magazine covers, and he achieved it on his own schedule and something like his own terms. Like John Lennon in the ’70s—the founder and nominal leader of the Beatles but the last former Fab to reach the toppermost of the poppermost as a solo artist—Styles just had to find his own way. As that onetime teen heartthrob sang, “Whatever gets you to the light, it’s all right.”

source: Slate

#kingstylesdaily #harry styles #hs: watermelon sugar #august 2020

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ryosei-hime · 3 years

Text

Date Night

Continuation of Personal Space. Husk spends the day getting ready for his date with Angel and the rest of the night being a mess. Can also be found over on AO3.

Husk groaned as he rolled off the sofa in the foyer, bottles clattering as he disturbed them. He dragged a paw down his face before a huge yawn escaped. A sound of agony followed as he stretched his back, every vertebrae popping and shifting. That damn thing was not meant for sleeping on. A feather floated down to the floor and he followed it’s trajectory back to the sofa to find more littering the cushions. Oh, great, molting. That’s what he needed.

He checked his phone for the time and saw a message from Angel. It was a picture of him splayed out on the sofa with his mouth open, a bottle clutched in one hand, and a leg over the back. He’d captioned it “Sleeping Beauty” followed by one of those winking kissy faces.

Husk rolled his eyes as he picked himself up off the ground. If he found that damn thing on his social media, he’d kill him. Nobody had any damn privacy anymore. He texted back a threat and searched around his empties for any remnants - hair of the dog and all - until a static-filled voice interrupted him.

“Good afternoon, Husker.”

“Yeah, what’d you want?”

“Simply passing through, my friend.”

Husk’s lip curled. Every time Alastor called him friend it caused a visceral reaction. Fuckin asshole. He’d rather the fucker just treat their relationship as it was instead of trying to paint a polite picture. You could put lipstick on a pig but it was still a fuckin pig.

“But good luck on your little date tonight.”

Alastor’s smile turned sharper and his eyes more sinister. God dammit, Angel. Couldn’t he keep his fuckin mouth shut? Husk just gave Alastor the finger as he moved on with his day. He checked to make sure Angel hadn’t blabbed about this anywhere else. But it must have just been good old fashioned word of mouth.

Actually, he’d barely posted at all today which was weird for Angel. Probably knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he did. Husk sighed and dragged himself to his room. He had a few hours to get himself together enough for this. Plenty of time to go over everything that would go wrong in minute detail.

It was Nifty who helped him get ready. Of course, she knew, too. Whole damn hotel knew. She insisted on helping him get dressed up in an old suit and tie. He didn’t see the need to bother. Wasn’t like he wore clothes regularly and they wouldn’t be on him long.

But it made Nifty happy to get him ready, giving him advice so fast he couldn’t take half of it in even if he’d wanted to. He smiled at her as she fixed his tie and stood back with her hands on her hips.

“You look great! Angel’s gonna love it. I’m so excited for you!”

“At least someone is,” Husk muttered, resisting the urge to loosen the tie a bit.

“Aren’t you excited?”

“Ah, I’m no good at this stuff. You know that.”

“Don’t worry! Just let Angel help you. He’s great at it.” She started dusting Husk’s own fur off his suit as it shed, her efforts only making it worse. “And he really likes you!”

“Yeah, I know,” Husk replied. “Thanks Nifty.”

Nifty gave him a big hug and he returned it gently. Her slight frame made him extra careful with her.

“I have to get back to cleaning, but I hope you enjoy your date!”

“Yeah. I’ll try.”

He raised a hand in a slight wave as she hurried off. He decided to spend the rest of the day waiting for Angel at the bar. That turned out to be a mistake. Everyone had something to say. They wished him luck. They cooed and sighed like it was some big fuckin show. Their words were supportive but somehow they only made Husk more nervous, maybe even a little bitter. This shit seemed so easy for everyone else.

It had been easy for him once, too.

Eventually the foyer emptied out as it got late. Husk knew Angel would be returning for him any minute. He finally had to loosen the tie around his neck and decided to fix himself a drink to calm his nerves, but just as he reached under the bar, the doors opened.

His wings lifted slightly as Angel made his entrance. Husk wasn’t the only one who’d gotten dressed up. Angel’d gotten his hair done or some kind of extensions or something. Fuck if Husk knew. He wore a strapless pink number, the skirt covered with some kinda fake flower and vine decorations. Looked like it was supposed to be a train, but he was too tall for it to do much but brush the floor as he approached. Husk actually thought he looked beautiful all dolled up like that. Maybe he should tell him. Instead, what came out of his mouth was:

“What’re we going to the fuckin prom?”

“I dunno. Will you be doin’ my taxes when we’re done?” Angel shot back with a grin.

He reached across the bar and fixed his tie. Dammit, he’d choke to death before he got through this night. Angel didn’t release his tie right away. He used it to pull him closer for a quick kiss.

“Ready?”

No.

“Yeah, sure.”

Husk came out from behind the bar and let Angel take his arm. He had no idea where they were going, but he just let Angel take the lead. Like Nifty had said, he was good at this. When they arrived at their destination, Husk was a little grateful she’d insisted on dressing him up. Angel had chosen some high end, classy joint.

They got a lot of stares on the way to their table. He knew Angel was the center of attention wherever he went, but he didn’t like being caught in the crossfire of all those lustful gazes. A growl sounded low in his chest before he could stop it, his teeth bared. The stares become a little less overt.

Angel put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t scare my fans, Husk. I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m not. People need to mind their own fuckin business.”

Without thinking about it, Husk pulled a chair out for Angel. At least he remembered something from the old days.

“Whatta gentleman,” Angel joked, batting his lashes at him as he sat.

Husk gave his chair a rough shove up to the table, taking his own with a grumble. When he looked up, Angel had his chin on his hands, fingers laced to make a cradle, staring at him with such a soft look it took Husk’s breath away. He made himself busy with the menu. As the waiter approached, Angel sat up suddenly.

“Oh, I forgot. This place is Italian. Like Italian Italian. But I can order for ya, if ya want.”

Angel looked quite proud of himself and Husk hated to burst his bubble.

“I got it.”

He gave the waiter his order in perfect Italian and looked back to Angel as the waiter turned to him. Angel stared at him in shock for a moment before stumbling through his own order. He waited until the waiter had disappeared before going off.

“You know Italian? Holy shit, Husk! I been dirty talkin ya all this time at the bar and you knew?!”

Husk hid his smirk behind his menu, trying not to laugh. Angel pushed it away and stared him down, motioning with two fingers between them.

“You look at me, look at me!”

Husk looked up, still grinning. Angel’s face had gone stern, and he held his gaze for a moment before simply uttering,

“You bastard.”

Husk let himself laugh a little and teased him.

“You get real creative when you’re drunk, you know that?”

Angel just smirked and crossed his second set of arms while another hand brought a glass of wine up to his cheek.

“Well, I guess you know what you got to look forward to then, donchya?”

The conversation during dinner remained light-hearted and Angel kept reaching out for Husk’s paw, making eyes at him. He avoided making direct eye contact, insides churning every time Angel tried. Once their plates were taken away, Angel stood and held a hand out to him.

“Can I get a dance before we go?”

Husk felt a little more confident as he put a paw in his hand. Dancing was something he knew he could do at least. He smiled back at him.

“Sure.”

He let Angel draw him out onto the dance floor and pull him into a waltzing position. His extra hands found a place to rest on Husk’s hips as they began to move. Angel took the lead, but Husk had expected as much with the height difference. He wouldn’t let Angel know, but he was surprised he knew how to waltz. It seemed a bit old-fashioned for him. Or at least for how he tended to present himself. It was easy to forget he was from an older era than he was.

“Thank you.”

Husk looked up and felt all the air rush out of his lungs again. Angel gazed down at him with such a genuine look of gratitude. If he didn’t stop stealing his breath, he’d never make it through this night.

“A bet’s a bet,” he repeated.

“You didn’t have to go on a date with me, but ya did. I really appreciate that. It’s nice.”

Husk closed their stance and pressed his forehead against Angel’s shoulder in response. Angel’s secondary arms held him close, his other hands sliding softly over his shoulders and down his arms. Husk turned his face in towards Angel’s neck instinctually. Everything felt so warm and comforting in this moment. Husk had to say something to break the spell before he started purring and embarrassed himself.

“You’re payin’ right? Cause I can’t afford this shit on my salary.”

“Don’t worry. I gotchya, babe,” Angel replied. “The least I can do is buy ya dinner first.”

Husk pulled back and a hand found his cheek as Angel leaned down to kiss him softly. Then again, a bit harder, staring at him through half-lidded eyes. Husk had to close his, but his paws slid up Angel’s back to grip his shoulders as he reciprocated. Angel broke the kiss and lowered his lips to Husk’s ear, brushing over the hairs at the tip for a moment, sending a thrill through his whole body.

“Let’s get outta here.”

Husk just nodded his agreement as Angel moved towards the table to pay, his hand sliding off Husk’s shoulder as he went. Husk loosened his tie as he focused on breathing. Fuck. This was happening. Shit. Fuck. As he panicked, a feather slowly floated to the floor then another. Oh, fan-fucking-tastic! This shit!

He stepped on the feathers to hide them as Angel returned, trying to keep a neutral expression. He probably wouldn’t have noticed the feathers anyways. He had his eyes locked onto Husk’s as he reached for his arm again. A devious light there had chased away the tenderness that had been prevalent the rest of the night, letting Husk know Angel’d fully shifted gears.

Thankfully when they returned to the hotel it wasn’t to some kind of fuckin fanfare. He’d half expected some kind of congratulatory party, the way people acted around here. But the foyer was as empty as it usually was this time of night. Just the two of them as it so often was. Angel stopped by the bar and released his arm.

“Okay, gimme ten to slip into somethin more comfortable,” Angel said with a joking tone. “Then meet me in my room.”

He made a show of walking away, swinging his hips and looking back at Husk over his shoulder before disappearing down the corridor. Husk just stood there calmly until he was out of sight. Once alone, he threw himself abruptly over the bar, gasping in air like a drowning man. He sent bottles clattering to the floor as he fished around for a drink. He leaned back against the bar and sank to the ground as he chugged whatever booze he’d managed to grab. The chugging became less frantic after a moment and he started to breathe again. Thank fucking god for alcohol.

“You did this to yourself, asshole,” he muttered under his breath.

He watched the clock as it ticked away the seconds he had to get himself together. He finally did away with his tie entirely and ran a paw over his head. Okay, this wasn’t such a big deal. God, it wasn’t like he didn’t find Angel attractive. And this would make him happy.

All of Husk’s limbs went limp and his head banged back against the bar. Dammit, he wanted him to be happy. How had he let this happen? He sighed and let the empty bottle roll out of his grasp before picking himself up off the floor.

He trudged down the hall to Angel’s room, leaving a sparse trail of feathers in his wake, and gave a light rap on the door before pushing it open. The lights were low and tinged pink from the scarves draped over the shades. Angel had tossed rose petals around the room wildly. He followed their general trail over to the bed where Angel was, of course, poised seductively.

He’d changed out of the prom dress and into lacy black lingerie, makeup entirely redone to match. How the fuck did he do that so fast? Angel shifted forward and pushed himself off the bed, sauntering over to him the way he approached a pole at a show. He brushed the back of a hand against his cheek as he circled around behind him. All three sets of arms snaked around him, hands working at buttons and sliding under his shirt.

Husk froze as his clothes just fell around him, only brought back to motion by the shiver that went down his spine when Angel pressed soft kisses against the back of his neck. Damn, he was good. His paws rose to find the closest pair of Angel’s hands and slid over them. Angel nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck before finding his ear.

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

Husk turned in his arms and tried to think of something to say. All he could think of was how long it had been and how badly he was about to fuck up. He started backing away slowly, but Angel followed.

He felt his knees buckle as he backed up into the bedframe. He fell back onto the bed and Angel leaned over him, using a pair of arms to hold himself up while the other two ran down his chest. Husk’s throat felt like it had closed up and he gasped for air.

“W-wait.”

#Hazbin Hotel #huskerdust #Husk/Angel

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wheezy-kasp-brak · 4 years

Text

Team Zero (Hargreeves Siblings x Sibling Reader)

Summary: After being sent back in time and finding their father, the eight academy kids have ‘A Light Supper’ with him.

A/N: This is a really gross, unedited page because I really wanted to write this scene. I wrote this in only a few hours and I think I could’ve done a crap ton better but I really wanted to post this so...

Warnings: season two spoilers, mild swearing

Word count 2589

gif credit to @tuagifs

After the draining argument with their siblings, the last thing y/n expected to receive was a letter from their father.

To my pursuers,

I, Reginald Hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the 20th of November, 1963, half past seven o’clock, 1624 Magnolia Street.

They had received the letter from a strange man in a black car. At first, y/n hesitated to believe it was really from their father but they knew their father better than anyone, even Luther despite what he thinks.

The level of extra Reginald went through to get this letter to them told them all they needed to know so, on the 20th of November, 1963, they arrived at 1624 Magnolia Street just before half past seven.

The building was a tall hotel and the decor very much fit the era they were living in. They wandered towards the back where they slipped in an elevator next to their brother five. Not too soon after, their other siblings joined them in the small box.

“Good, you’re all here” Five face sported his usual smirk and his body language screamed cocky arrogant asshole however, everyone remained quiet on the lift up to the highest floor.

That was until a rather rancid smell reached their noses. “Ugh.. Luther!”

“Sorry, I’m nervous.” The group covered their noses until the doors finally opened, allowing them to take a deep breath of fresh air.

“Alright, when dad gets here, I’ll do the talking.” Fives natural attempt to assert himself failed quickly when Diego snapped back.

“I got a few questions for him myself.”

Y/n rolled their eyes. The seven of them never seemed to be able to enter a room without starting some kind of fight or argument. “Hey, we don’t wanna scare him off alright, he might be able to help us stop doomsday, get us home.”

“No Five, we need to figure out why he’s planning to kill the president.” It’s amazing how hung up on the presidents assassination Diego is, why can’t he just let this go?

“This is a matter of life or death you imbecile.” Sensing that their other siblings were about to chime in, y/n zoned themselves out. Y/n isn’t exactly what you called a team player. They chose to stay quiet and disassociate themselves from their family. Sick of the overbearing weight of having to save the world when they could be doing other things, like being a normal person.

Unfortunately for them, they were soon snapped out of their focused state by a loud crash. What appeared to be some kind of decoration was found shattered in small pieces on the other side of the room.

“Classic.” Allison spit. They all turned their heads when they heard another noise. The doors to the ‘Tiki Lounge” swung open revealing a younger Hargreeves. His posture stood tall and didn’t give them a single glance until he sat at the table, adjusting his sleeves.

“Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me, but you have on numerous occasions, called me...”

Klaus finally joined the table with what seemed like some alcoholic beverage. “Hey Pop. How’s it hangin’?

“...dad.” His voice was stern, slightly scary, but more just assertive. The seven children took a moment to all create eye contact before returning to their younger father.

“My reconnaissance tells me you’re not CIA, not KGB, certainly not MI5, so...” he paused to slam his pen to the desk, “who are you?” Everyone stayed silent trying to find the right words before five cut in again.

“We’re your children,” Reginald gave him a displeased look, “We’re from the future.” Dear old Reggie didn’t seem all too happy with the idea of having children, so when the group stayed silent once again y/n finally spoke up from their seat.

“In 1989, you adopted us all and trained us to fight against the end of the world. You called us the umbrella academy.” The sudden joining of the conversation brought all the attention to them. It surprised the rest of their siblings, seeing as y/n normally just minded their own business. However, they supposed this was their business.

“Why on earth would I adopt seven-”

“Eight. One of us isn’t here.” Allison corrected.

“Dead. One of us is dead.” Diego filled in the answer to what they assumed Reggie’s next question would be.

“Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba. Enough of that now.” Klaus spun in his seat, talking to what looked like an empty chair to the rest of them.

Could he just be quiet for FIVE MINUTES.

When he spun back he noticeably shuddered and then it clicked in Klaus’s head. Ignoring the attention from everyone at the table he pushed his chair out and violently pointed his finger at y/n.

“Hey! Get out of my head!” Everyone now turned their looks back to y/n. They had no response other than slouching down into their seat and turning their head to focus back onto the decor.

Reginald took the silence as an invitation to begin speaking again, “Regardless, what would possess me to adopt eight ill-mannered malcontents?”

“We all have special abilities.” Five explained.

“Special?” Reginald Questioned, “In what sense?”

“In the super power sense.” Luther finally joined in on the conversation.

“Call me old fashioned, but I’m a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence. Show me.”

“Everybody wants to see powers all of a sudden.” Allison proceeded to scoff before she was cut off.

“We’re not circus animals, okay? We’re not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap like seals for your amusement.” Luther attempted to accentuate his point by literally clapping his hands together. That’s when Diego pulled out a knife and allowed it to slice through the air and around Reginald’s head, sinking into a support post behind him.

Reggie decided to pull out his pen and begin writing in one of those god-awful leather bound notebooks he constantly wrote in when they were younger. They all leaned in, upset that he was doing it again.

“What’re you writing?” Diego asked.

“You are zero for two, young man.” At that statement Diego immediately pushed out of his chair, lunging towards their father. However, Five was much faster using his spatial jumps. He managed to flash in front of Diego, effectively preventing him from being shanked by their dad again.

“Stop!” Fives voice was no louder than a whisper although they all still heard him.

“Now that is interesting.” Reginald noted aloud. Once Diego was 'calm’ again. Five relaxed, walking back to his seat.

“All right, uh, quick rundown-”

“Luther, super strength. Klaus can commune with the dead.” As they gestured to Klaus once more their siblings shocked glances paused them once more.

They’re face scrunched up. “What? We all know Five’s definition of quick.” Their sass earned them chuckles from everyone at the table apart from their very loving brother, Five, and their very loving.... father.

“Anyways,” They continued, “Allison can rumor anyone to do anything-”

“Yea, except she never uses it.” This time it was y/n who was cut off by Diego. That comment caused Allison to give him a pointed look.

“I heard a rumor, you punched yourself in the face.” Diego’s eyes turned white and his fist soar through the air and hit his nose straight on. His groan from the pain echoed through the room and Reginald adjusted himself in his seat, clearly unamused and slightly concerned.

This time, the academy kids held in their laughs worried Diego might be the one shanking them.

"And y/n has the power to read minds.” Five attempted to finish the conversation however they all forgot about the sibling who most recently discovered their powers. “And you?”

To this, Vanya lifted her head and everyone’s amused looks soon turned nervous.

“Uh, maybe we don’t take Vanya for a test run.” Luther’s voice was laced with fear and the table tried to agree with him however Vanya seemed to think differently.

“It’s fine. I can handle it.” She reached forward for a fork and glass.

“Handle it?” Allison asked, “Last time you handled it, you definitely blew up the moon.” This time, the six siblings tried to stop her and braced themselves for the impact of what might be the end of the world... again.

Once the fork hit the glass she focused in on the ringing noise and allowed herself to blow up the fruity centerpiece, sending chunks of pineapple and mango flying everywhere.

While they all tried to wipe away the fruit on their clothes Vanya just let out a small “oops.”

“Look, we know you’re involved in a plot to assassinate the president.” To that, Reggie quipped back at Diego.

“You were recently hospitalized, isn’t that correct?” Diego sputtered at the statement. “You still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia.”

Diego, pissed off, pulled out a photo of him. “Am I?” He asked, standing up. The photo revealed to be-

“That’s you. That’s two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the presidents gonna get shot.” Reginald slowly picked up the photo, looking at it for a moment.

“Well... I suppose you’ve solved it. You’ve single-handedly unearthed my nefarious plot.” Y/n was taking it in. They supposed that’s what Diego wanted but, there was sarcasm. A lot of it at that.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” They knew it. “You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion. The sad reality is that you’re a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man in over his head.” At this the table was stunned into silence.

Diego allowed one tear to slip out. It rolled down his cheek in solidarity. “You’re wr-r-r-wrong.” He managed to finally stutter out.

He’s right.

Diego’s body shivered. He quickly whipped out another knife and flung it across the table, stabbing y/n’s upper arm. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” His voice was laced with venom and seemed to shut them out of his head.

They pulled the knife out of their arm and pressed a thick napkin to the wound. The knife clattered back across the table. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to stab your sibling?”

The group stayed silent until Five spoke up. Shocker. “Look, forget about the president. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it.”

“Why? Men will always be at war with each other.” Reggie tried to reason.

“No, this isn’t just some war. I’m talking about a doomsday. The end of the world.”

“Well.. You’re the special ones aren’t you?” The group proceeded to glare at him. “Why don’t you band together and do something about it?”

Unbelievable.

The siblings collective annoyed thoughts were soon cut off but their brother, Klaus. His body was suddenly jolted forward, shaking violently. His air way seemed to be cut. They all sat concerned and puzzled.

“Y/n is that-”

“No, I don’t know what that is.”

“Is he having a seizure?”

“Overdosing probably.” Diego muttered. All of sudden a voice and thoughts flooded Y/n’s mind. They were so loud. Y/n pushed their chair back, standing up. Their hands flew up to their ears, as if covering them would stop the words flowing through their head.

“Klaus, Y/n. Now is not the time. What’re you doing?”

The noises only got louder. “I’m...” His voice was strangled and chalky.

Reginald had quite enough of whatever was going on. “Well, out with it boy.”

Klaus took a deep breath and finally spit out, “...Ben!” He soon gasped and fell out of his chair. He continued to shake here and there and allowed a few groans to get out but none of the above concerned any of his siblings enough to do anything.

“Well...” Reggie trailed off, “thank you for coming. I’ve seen about enough.” He stacked up his books and climbed over Klaus’s convulsing body.

“No, I-” Luther tried to speak up, however Hargreeves kept walking. Luther, upset he didn’t get to say anything the whole time he was here, slammed his fists down onto the table. That certainly gained the room attention.

He ripped his shirt open revealing his ape like skin. “Look at what you did to me! Look at it!” Allison nearly spit out her drink and and Five let out an “oh, shit. Why?” with a solid eye roll and slouched into his chair.

“Okay then. Anybody else wish to embarrass themselves this evening?” Nobody moved, obviously not wanting to embarrass themselves. “I guess I’ll-”

“No.” Y/n shook their head. “You don’t get to walk away after that. You don’t get to just leave after destroying our lives and blaming it on us. You forced us to dedicate everything to saving the stupid world and the stupid people who live on it. I never.. We never wanted to do that. We didn’t get a choice to be who we are, so, because you are the one who disfigured our existences, you are going to be the one who helps get everything back on track.” Out of breath, they finally looked up and locked gazes with their father

“If anyone disfigured your lives, it was yourselves.”

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” They paused before continuing the rant, “You know, Reginald, I don’t think I’m the one who forced myself to become afraid of people because their thoughts were so loud. Leading me to dissociating myself from my siblings and the people around me. In fact, I don’t think any of us would be this fucked up had you just allowed us to be our own people with a family and parents who actually loved us. Who wanted to dedicate their time to furthering us in life, not just using us for their own advantages.”

“I’m sure whatever I did was to further you in life. I wouldn’t waste my time on something that I was sure to fail.” Hargreeves looked around the room, noticing the mess of a ‘family’ sitting in front of him. “Clearly, I had a miss in judgement.”

At that he finally turned to leave the room. “You in the culottes?” He motioned to Five. “A word, in private?” Five followed suit leaving the six of them disheveled and wondering what to do next.

The ring of the elevator doors sounded around them. “Well, that went as good as any Hargreeves family function.” At that Y/n zoned out again. Maybe they didn’t want to but that’s what they had practiced after so many years. Pretending like their siblings weren’t even in the room with them.

“Where’d that whole speech come from, Y/n/n?” Allison added them into the ‘conversation.’

“Oh, um, I suppose I was just sick of allowing him to get away with whatever he wanted to.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Diego harped on their response, clearly still upset about Y/n entering his head.

The elevator doors finally opened once more, letting them escape the hellhole of a family meeting they just adjourned. They all flooded into the hallway not making any eye contact. “Team Zero my ass.”

#tua #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #allison hargreevs #luther hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves

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makeitcanoncowards · 4 years

Text

Your Lipstick Stain is a Work of Art [Nicky Valentino x MC]

Nicky Valentino x Fem!Reader

Literally no one requested this, but I just had to do it. I am in love with this man. Also If you like this you should go follow my friend @hurtbycanonthoughts! She takes requests and posts writing for Obey Me, Mystic Messenger, Cinderella Phenomenon, Two Against the World, Love Island the Game, and more! I love her lots, so go show her some love too :D Here’s her masterlist

Summary: You get a little more familiar with makeup in the 20s, and Nicky finds himself really liking the look of you in red lipstick. Bonus: Lipstick marks on his cheek are his no.1 soft spot. Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: a tiny bit suggestive but not really like at all.

You’ve been in 1920’s New York for almost two months now and were still trying to acclimate to the fashion of the era. Certain styles you’ve had a harder time working yourself up to wear (like tights every day, why every day?), and others you just haven’t gotten around to trying out. But all in all, you were pretty pleased with your new 20th century wardrobe. The skirts and dresses you wore were extremely durable and actually surprisingly flattering. The iconic boxy cut that you heard so much about in your high school history classes proved to be beautiful on all body types, something you appreciated greatly.

One afternoon, while Nicky was dealing with some business that he didn’t want you there for, you were free to meander around the city – Even do a little shopping, thanks to the way your coin purse was spoiled by your boyfriend.

As you passed by a fancy boutique during your afternoon adventure, you were immediately drawn in. Stopping to stare, you gazed at the fresh paint that adorned the windows, advertising the makeup they sold inside. While also taking notice of the boutique’s patrons flowing in and out. All the women that entered looked as though they ate gold for breakfast and had hundred-dollar bills for lunch. They oozed an aura of wealth and you began doubting your place in their store. You could afford anything you wanted in there and more, sure, but the sheer confidence that radiated from them was a little intimidating. You feared they’d smell your inferiority from a mile away.

It took a quick mental pep talk – and a lap or two around the block – to convince yourself to enter the store. Gipping onto your purse just a little tighter, you braved the crowd of posh women gliding through the entrance and slipped in as well.

“Hello!” A young girl at a counter with makeup fixtures littering it greeted, “How may I help you today?”

“I’m just looking around, actually.” You stated, glancing back around the interior, “I’ve never been in this store before.”

“Well, might I just suggest you take a look at our makeup collection. It’s what we’re most well-known for anyways.” The shop girl’s smile was dazzling, though probably painful considering how wide it was and how long she was holding it.

You took a step next to the counter and watched as the girl pointed out some products. Everything seemed pretty standard, except for the block of charcoal that doubled as mascara, and nothing was really catching your eye until-

“What do you think of this for me?” You picked up a golden tube of red lipstick with roses engraved into the casing.

“The Ruby Red?” She glanced at the color and back to you, scanning her eyes over your face. “I’d go for something a little deeper, personally. The bright colors are nice and all, but all the women in movies are wearing darker colors. I think you’d pull that off, you look like you’re straight outta’ve a film.”

You chuckled at her statement. She wasn’t wrong, technically. “I’ll take the color you suggest, then.”

She grinned at you before pulling out a tube nearly identical to the first from behind the counter, “This shade is called ‘Forever Red’ by Besame cosmetics, D’you wanna try it on before you go?”

“I’ll take a preview,” You agreed and puckered your lips for the girl to apply it. She slid the lipstick carefully over your lips, the creamy texture felt similar to a chapstick you used to wear, and it made you oddly nostalgic.

“Wow, it looks even better than I thought it would!” She clapped her hands together once she finished, “You look better than Bebe Daniels did in this shade!”

“You think so?” You asked, astonished. Turning to look in the little mirror sitting to the left of you, okay yea. You looked good. “Y’know what, I think I’ll take it.”

Giddily, you grabbed your tiny giftbag with your lipstick and went back to your hotel room for the night. Nicky had promised he would be there to take you out for dinner, and you wanted to surprise him with a bit of red added to your look.

<><><>

You had just finished slipping on your silk – or was it satin, you couldn’t be sure – dress over your tights and undergarments; hair and makeup already done. You took a moment to fumble with the zipper on your gown but weren’t able to zip it up completely. After struggling for a good few minutes after your initial attempt, you blew out a frustrated puff of air and looked at your reflection in the vanity you were sat in front of.

All-in-all, you looked good. You took extra care of your hair tonight. It was gelled to perfection, not a single frizz out of place. And your makeup – it took you nearly double the time it used to, but the time commitment was worth it. The dark red lip that you just bought contrasted with the silver and black on your eyelids and stood out against your gown. Said gown was a silky (or satin-y) pearl color that had a wrapped bodice. Fairly simple. Extremely elegant. It was something Nicky bought you and you adored it.

Taking your time fixing invisible imperfections, you hadn’t noticed Nicky enter your room or the way he had to bite back a chuckle as you bared your teeth at your reflection to insure you didn’t have lipstick marks littering your pearly whites.

You only acknowledged his presence when he cleared his throat and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the intrusion. You whipped around, preparing for the worst since you were not exactly in the right state to fend off an attacker.

“Motherfuc- Nicky!” You slapped a hand over your heart when you realized who it was, “You tryna give me a heart attack?”

“’Course not, doll,” He grinned back at you, “Just tryna keep you on your toes s’all.”

“Since you’re here early, and decided to scare the crap out of me, I’m gonna put you to work.” You smirked at the way Nicky’s eyes widened with your words.

“Anything for you, baby.” He winked, trying to display a confident and cocky attitude. But you noticed the shaky breath he let out before he spoke up.

You stood up, the skirt of your gown brushing against your ankles as you sauntered towards your boyfriend and took pride in the way his jaw went slack at the sight of you. Each step you took was agonizingly slow, but you were basking in the way he raked his eyes over your form. With each second, you could practically see the blood rushing to Nicky’s cheeks. He was bright red by the time you were directly in front of him. When the toe of your heel brushed against his dress shoe, you draped your arms around his neck. The breath caught in his throat at your closeness, and he choked on his next words:

“Is-Is that a new… um… is that a new lipstick, Y/n?” His adam’s apple bobbed as you pressed your body into his. You were looking up at him through your lashes – your lips just a hair’s length apart.

“Mhmm,” You hummed, running a hand down his chest, “It’s called ‘Forever Red’, kinda foxy ain’t it?”

Nicky couldn’t form any words; he was looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. His breathing was heavy, and you could tell he was having a hard time controlling himself. He only took his eyes off your lips to close them and breath a heavy sigh when you moved to whisper in his ear.

“Be a doll and zip me up,” You whispered and placed a kiss right below his cheek bone. You pulled away from Nicky and saw him deflate slightly from the corner of your eye.

“Wh-what?” His eyes were glazed over, “What did you say?”

“Zip me up, will ‘ya?” You let a small stream of laughter erupt from your red lips, “C’mon Nicky we don’t have all night.”

Still caught in a daze, he fumbled with your zipper a few times before he was able to pull it up fully.

“Atta boy,” You grinned, topping your look off with a feather boa and pair of pearly, elbow-length gloves. “So where are we going?”

Nicky finally snapped back to reality from wherever his mind had wandered from before and a cheeky grin had returned to his face, “You are such a minx, you know that?”

“I learned from the best,” You smiled, wrapping your arm around his outstretched elbow. “Ready to go?”

“Actually, Y/n. We do have to make a quick stop on our way to our date.” Nicky admitted bashfully as you glided through the extravagant hotel hallway, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “’Nother head of the Family, Schitz, wanted to meet up to discuss his quarrel with some of Floyd’s guys. Asked to do it today. Is it okay if we…?”

“You know I’m all in, Nicky.” You squeezed his arm in reassurance. “I won’t get mad about you having to work. So long as you let me in, you know that.”

Nicky pressed a quick kiss to your temple as you rounded the corner to the exit, “What did I do to deserve a gal like you?”

“Something pretty damn good.”

<><><>

“Keep the car runnin’ Ralph, we shouldn’t be too long.” Nicky gave a firm nod to his right-hand man and grasped your hand in his. He had tried to ask you to stay in the car during his meeting, considering it shouldn’t be more than ten minutes long, but you were having none of it.

“Nicky come on! This can be part of the date!” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to be at his side whenever you could be. And he, being the simp he was, couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t even want to say no, and that’s how he knew he was absolutely whipped.

Begrudgingly he agreed, though, he refused to let go of your hand. Knowing you were by him at all times alleviated some of his fear with you being part of his family. If you were in, then he was going to make sure everyone knew you weren’t someone to be messed with.

“Ah, Nicky Valentino!” An older gentleman called from the inside of an empty bar. “Please take a seat.”

Nicky’s expression when he was with you was soft and warm, but when he was dealing with business those same eyes were walled away. Replaced with a stony expression that revealed nothing about what was going on in his brain. It was a look you were getting accustomed to wearing, yourself.

“If we could make this quick, Schitz,” Nicky’s voice was smooth and confident, “I have a previous engagement that I’m anxious to get to.”

“Of course, of course but – ah – what’s that?” Schitz gestured to his cheek, “Got some red shit on your cheek, paint or something?” Your eyes widened briefly when you realized what Schitz was talking about. He was gesturing to the place you had teased/kissed Nicky before you left.

Nicky asked you for the compact mirror from your purse – how he knew it was there was beyond you since you didn’t even know it was there – and checked his reflection. Once he saw the prominent silhouette of your lips on his cheek in your lipstick, Nicky let out a barking laugh. Your cheeks burned, though; ashamed at having possibly ruined his tough guy image.

“I’m sorry Nicky,” You whispered, taking off your glove and raising your hand to wipe away the mark on his cheek. Before your thumb could make contact with the stain, his hand clasped around your wrist and gently pulled your hand down to his chest.

“Don’t be,” He brushed his lips against your knuckles, “It’s a token of affection, I wouldn’t dare wipe away one of your kisses.”

Your heart thrummed loudly against your ribcage at his words. You could feel every amber of your being slowly fall more in love with him, and there was nothing you could do (not that you wanted to do anything) to stop it.

Eventually, a deep red kiss was the staple of your relationship. The lipstick was the finishing touch to every one of your outfits, and the shade that stained Nicky’s cheek whenever he left the house without you. He was taking a part of you with him on the days you couldn’t come, and everyone knew who you were when you accompanied him wearing the very same shade of red lipstick the next time you left.

#nicky valentino #nicky valentino x mc #two against the world #Nicky Valentino fluff #Nicky valentino fanfiction #nicky valentino x reader #fictif

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helloooofandoms · 4 years

Text

Old Friends

Hisirdoux x reader. Platonic! It had a theme I swear but then I couldn't stop writing. This takes place after Merlin's death but before Douxie and Nari leaves for New York. There's a little timeskip to the present Douxie in New York as well.

word count: 5k

History was not your favourite subject. You loathed it actually, but when the topic of Camelot came around in class you were absolutely thrilled! To you any lesson that seemed like the fantasy shows you watched made you attentive. This wasn't your usual telling of the Camelot tales, the fall of King Arthur and the knights of the roundtable. No, your professor had gone the extra mile of stating that Merlin, a great wizard, was also a key factor in this tale. Accompanied by his apprentice named Hisirdoux. According to him, the Camelot battle was just some side plot that was hiding the bigger story. The fact that King Arthur's sister, Morgana was a sorceress who only wanted to reign destruction. The rest of the class waved it off. Mr Choi was no stranger to conspiracy theories. You always knew there was some truth to your teacher's words. Even if the truth was buried in a few myths it was still there right?

For the whole day you couldn't get the thought of wizards out of your head. It was farfetched but not unbelievable. You knew wizards, witches, and warlocks existed. They had to! The worldwide witch trials were proof of it. Whether or not some of the people were just simple humans and some secretly having power over the arts, there was definitely proof that they existed. Even if the proof was downright criminal. It's just like humans to kill the things they don't understand.

Yawning, you had a lot of time to research the fact that Merlin was indeed present at King Arthur's death and perhaps even beforehand. Your teacher had urged you to go to the nearest bookstore and find evidence to either build your case or deny it. Of course you chose the first. Something was telling you that you'd have no trouble looking for information. Call it a gut feeling. Though you decided to head home first and see what the internet had to offer. Your nearest bookstore wasn't too far from your home. On your way there you couldn't help but wonder about the wizard Merlin and if it was true about him having an apprenticee. Even even storing about Morgana seemed way too good to be true. How cool would it have been to be alive in that era! Watching brave knights and seeing magic first hand. Perhaps they even had monsters-

Your thoughts were cut off by you colliding with something. You stumbled back managing to take a fall. Did you run into a pole somehow? Groaning you opened your eyes to see a hand stretched out towards you. It belonged to a man. One with black hair and blue tips. Hesitantly you took it and he helped pull you up on your feet. Offering you a smile and a pat on the head he apologized. "Terribly sorry about that little lady, you should always watch where you're going." Perhaps it was your fault. You were too focused on daydreaming instead of looking where you were going.

"Its my fault. I wasn't paying attention." You nodded as your eyes darted down to his hand. What an interesting watch he was wearing. It almost seemed as if it was glowing. Looking down at your own wrist you grew surprised and started walking again. "Thank you for the help. I've got to get going." You waved at him before picking up your pace. Your parents weren't fans of you going out into town during the night so you needed to make it home quick before it got too dark out for you to come back to the bookstore.

After your arrival home you spent an hour searching for anything that mentioned this wizard Merlin. You came up empty handed. There was a lot of information about the battle at Camelot but most of it was centered around the King and what he had done. About his knights and even mentioned him having a sister. But there was absolutely nothing to be found about wizards. Sighing you let your head hit your desk. Books would be your only answer now. History required a lot of reading and you were much better processing information given to you orally. It's not that you found books boring it's just that when it came to history it was extremely extensive and there were oh so many details. It gave you a headache and after a while you could barely remember the key details.

Grabbing your house keys you told your father that you wouldn't be out too late and that you would only be going around the block to the bookstore. He was wary at first but as soon as he heard that it was for a school project he relaxed. Ah yes adults and their 'school is everything' mindset. He told you to be safe and you laughed at the comment once you walked out the door. This is Arcadia. The townsfolk might as well be invincible at this point. The amount of damages this place has seen and the way that everyone just becomes immune to it at some point is honestly astounding.

As you swung open the door of the bookstore that was about 2 blocks from your home you smiled as the scent of books hit your nose. A lot of people you knew found the scent suffocating or have told you that it made then sneeze. It didn't bother you at all in that aspect.

The front desk was right ahead and you didn't see anyone there so you took it upon yourself to browse. Who ever was working this shift had to have known a customer came. The door had a little bell that rang when you entered. It was odd that there weren't any alphabetical organization of the books so that meant the workers probably knew where everything was by memory. It would be a pain to fire someone and have to teach a new worker where everything was. You knew for a fact that if you worked here you would be absolutely lost when it came to the whereabouts of any book here.

You were heading into another aisle and stopped once you saw one of the workers. He was on a ladder putting up some of the books. You couldn't see his face but for some odd reason you look familiar. Then you realized it once you saw him reaching to put a book back in place. The weird watch on his arm, that was the man you ran into just an hour ago. What a coincidence that he worked here at the bookstore. "You!" Pointing your finger at him you watched as he screamed and lost his balance. Resulting in him falling off the ladder. You wanted to move and help him but you could only watch in fear as the ladder tipped over as well. It could have crushed him if he didn't move out of the way fast enough. You watched as this man rolled over out of the way and laid there on his back panting. "I've never felt that frightened since I dropped from the sky."

What was he talking about. Nervously walking over you glance over at the ladder then at him. You didn't mean to cause so much harm. What if he hurt his ankle really badly? Or dislocated something. "Sorry mister." You said offering a weak smile and an outstretched hand.

"Not mister." He groaned accepting your hand as you pulled him up. Dusting off his clothes he looked down at you. "Just Douxie." He said before moving to pick the ladder back up. While he leaned it against the bookshelf you wondered why his name had a familiar ring to it. Douxie.... it was quite unique, almost old fashioned. If that was his full name you knew for sure it was at least French in origin. Doux meant soft or sweet in the language. And the -ie ending just made you giggle. His name could be translated to sweetie or softie. Judging by his appearance that was probably not something he would enjoy being called.

"Softie huh?" You chuckled. He turned to walk over to you with a face full of confusion.

"What?" He asked. Douxie was really wondering what had made you laugh. All he did was say his name. He's gotten weird looks before because of it and the occasional "Did your mother really name you that?" But he never saw a problem with it. His name was definitely rare but even he has heard some names that would put his to shame. He prefers going by Douxie instead of his full name because well he was no longer living in the 12th century and well 21st century people can be cruel. Especially kids like you.

"Doux in french can mean sweet or soft. I think it fits you well." You were obviously teasing him.

"It's short for Hisirdoux." Douxie rolled his eyes and tapped his foot. "I thought you would've taken my advice the last time we spoke." He chuckled. "Now then what brings you to my humble shop?" He asked mentioning for you to follow him.

Your feet were moving slowly as you followed him. Your mind however was raging. Did he just say his name was short for Hisirdoux? That was not a common name in any way, shape, or form and if he was telling you he shared the same name with a wizard you needed information about you'd be lying if you said you weren't bouncing around right now.

He seemed to have noticed your current state of excitement and decided to address it. He couldn't recall saying anything that would've resulted in you staring up at him like he saved the universe or something. Granted, he has but it's not like you would've known about it. "What is it?" He asked slowly, knowing that the last time he asked this question it was only met with a silly remark.

"Your name is Hisirdoux?" You asked once for confirmation and he nodded. Clapping you gently gripped his arm. "Are you telling me that you share the name with a wizard that may have been around in the 12th century and may have been involved in the battle for Camelot? Not to mention the apprentice of a wizard named Merlin?!" Your eyes were huge now. Douxie thinks they resembled a chameleon's but that wouldn't be very nice to say to a girl. Besides how did you even know about him. He wasn't in the history books. No, that was just Arthur and maybe a bit of Morgana. Merlin also wasn't involved in too many stories read by humans. The only people that knew about him nowadays were Jim, Claire, Steve, and the other kids that were mixed up in the time travel drama. Anyone else was probably familiar with magic or was someone who knew of his master's death.

Anyway, you knew quite a bit and it could potentially be disastrous if the Arcane order were to find you. The possibility is slim to none but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. He just couldn't let you run around saying that you met a wizard, not that you could prove it, but it would be better for him to diffuse this situation now. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Douxie hummed as he attempted to lean on the wall casually. He accidentally tripped on the broom but managed to settle himself on the wall despite it.

"Oh Douxie I was supposed to tell you that Merlin-" a voice said but came to a stop. You and Douxie looked up to see a a flying cat descend to the floor. You were quite shocked but this had to mean that you were right. No ordinary librarian had a talking and flying cat with glasses. Besides he said Merlin's name too. There was no way he was getting out of this.

There really was no way douxie was getting out of this. Dragging his hands down his face he gave a glare to Archie who immediately stopped flying and instead meowed. As if that would help him. You've already interrogated him and managed to witness his non human best friend who happened to be a familair talking and flying. Maybe he should just resort to answering your questions after all. It didn't seem like you would leave empty handed. Besides he was curious about how much you knew too. Beckoning you to follow him you smiled as the cat brushed between your legs and moved to catch up to Douxie.

He guided you to a table and pulled out your chair before sitting in the one opposite from you. Resting his chin in his palms you stared at one another. He looked tired. There were literal bags under his eyes and- oh he just yawned. Now that you were actually face to face with him you were sort of nervous. Sure he may seem cool on the outside but he was still a wizard who lived this long. Maybe he sacrificed kids for his immortality. Just then his cat nudged his foot and he sat up straight. The guy was totally dozing off. In Douxie's defense he was too busy saving Arcadia to think about regulating his sleep schedule, not to mention the fact that he had like three part time jobs and also needed to continue his wizard studies while protecting Nari.

You offered a smile and he rubbed his eyes. Oh yeah, you were supposed to be having a conversation. Archie jumped into his lap and he gently stroked his friend while he spoke. "As you have somehow figured out. My name is Hisirdoux Casperan and yes I'm a wizard. This is my Archie, he's a familiar and my best friend who can also shape shift. You're correct about my involvement in the war and being Merlin's apprentice but how in the world do you know all of this?" He was curious as to why this kid was sitting in his bookstore at 7pm inquiring about his old life in Camelot.

When you inhaled Douxie had expected a brief response not a full on ramble. "Okay so my teacher started telling us about Camelot and the battle. He said you were there and your master too! That the two of you helped greatly and there was something about the King's evil sister but he couldn't get into all the details because well it's a research project. What kind of research project would this be if he just gave us all the answers, you know? Anyway everyone else thinks he's making it all up but I'm totally going to get the best score because I've actually met a wizard!"

Douxie only nodded slowly to show that he had in fact heard you. Did he understand? A little your words were way too jumbled and he swore he heard something about a sea search? Who knows the main point was that your teacher had told you all about this and from the looks of it the rest of your classmates. Definitely alarming, he was a bit worried that someone else out there knew the truth of what happened. Someone that wasn't directly involved. He just hoped that the information he gave to you wouldn't be used recklessly. By the sound of it the rest of your classmates would rule it off as some piece of fiction and maybe, just maybe your teacher would think it was ridiculous too. The latter seemed the most difficult.

Now it was his turn to riddle off information. He started simply from the beginning about how he became Merlin's apprentice then went on to talk about the battle, how he got his cool staff, Merlin's unfortunate death and what happened with Atthur and Morgana. He left out Nari for obvious reasons and the fact that a few of your classmates may have been involved. You don't need all of those details for your report after all.

You were thrilled really that not only was a master wizard sitting in front of you but the whole story checked out and you were glad you asked for that pen and paper earlier. Not only did you get to witness his magic but it also allowed you to write down everything important. "Its a shame really." You hummed.

Archie had long gone off to take his nap not feeling very up to listening to the retelling of incidents. Truthfully he didn't want to be reminded about Merlin's death again. Douxie had to hold himself together as well when he mumbled out the fact that his master had died. He still blames himself and sometimes he gets nightmares but he shouldn't dwell on that right now. "What is?" He asked watching you scratch down sloppy notes.

Sighing you placed your pen down gently on the paper as your eyes ran over the text before peeking up at the guy before you. "That someone as great as you didn't make the history books."

It grew silent and you stayed quiet as you watched the look of uncertainty on his face. In the past 30 minutes of sitting in this bookstore you've learned that Hisidoux Casperan was probably one of the greatest people you've ever met by chance. He basically saved the world and nobody even knew. He was so...normal. It was difficult to believe he had been alive for 919 years now. Sure he had an extensive vocabulary filled with British slang and words that date back centuries but he fit into the mold of the 21st century so well. You guessed that's why no one was able to find out about his secret. He was great at adapting.

Hisirdoux didn't exactly understand where you were coming from. He's told you the story you wanted to hear. He thought the hero was painted as clear as day. His master Merlin. Even if you didn't pick up on that it seemed a bit farfetched for you to assume that he was the hero of this story. He wanted to tell you that you've got it all wrong. That he had no place in those books your school deemed mandatory. But you interrupted him before he could speak.

"It's alright." You said standing up while collecting your paper. "Even when the years go by I'll surely remember the master wizard. The apprentice who became a legend. I'll write this down someday, that way your legacy won't be lost." You moved towards the door as you spoke and he followed after you. Interested in what you were saying. "I'll call it the Tales of Hisirdoux." A goofy grin made its way on your face. "What do you think?" You turned back to get his response.

Shaking his head with a smile he opened the door for you. "I think it'll be a best seller some day. Just make sure you pass your report first."

"It's a research paper." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Uh huh.....there's a difference?" Douxie asked trying to blink the sleepiness away as he yawned.

"I can forgive that. Only because you're really old." You teased giving him a peace sign when you bid him farewell and hurried back home. Your parents would freak but hey at least you were being assured an A.

Douxie watched you leave before shutting the door. "What an interesting kid." He thought aloud.

Douxie wrestled with the doorknob to his apartment. He didn't know why they needed so many locks. If the Arcane Order showed up they most likely wouldn't stop to pick it. They'd probably just knock the blasted door down. But Alas, his familiar wanted to make sure Nari was safe from New York thieves, as if he couldn't handle one or two himself. Finally getting it opened he entered then kicked it closed. "Archie did you leave any pizza for Nari and me? You know I'm running low on money and-" he was taking off his shoes when he felt a spike in magic. How did he not notice it before he came in? He was on high alert as he slowly looked up. There was Archie, Nari, and some random girl standing in his kitchen obviously interrupted from their precious conversation.

"Douxie!" The girl smiled as she came charging towards him. Did he know her? Crushing him in a hug he felt the remaining life drain from him in an instant. He was already tired from working at the pizzeria downtown and the subway ride back had him in shambles. Seriously, how could you just allow your baby to wail like that? He would've moved but that would be considered rude and there weren't any empty seats. The last thing he wanted to do was squeeze himself under five other people holding onto one pole.

"Okay okay you're squeezing the daylights out of me." He muttered gently pushing the girl back.

"You don't sound so happy to see me. I mean for someone that's writing a book about your legacy you would think I'd get a hug back or I don't know a hello?" You huffed crossing your arms over your chest and turning your head.

Hisirdoux was beyond confused. With a raised eyebrow and a familiar that was expecting him to say something he took another look at you and sighed. "Alright love, just tell me who you are, why you're in my apartment, and if you're just here to lead the Arcane Order to us don't you think you could have done this earlier in the day to save me the trouble of going to work?" Originally he thought that maybe Nari had gone from collecting plants to collecting New Yorkers but with the magic radiating from you he knew it was a little unrealistic.

It was your turn to be confused. "Arcane Order?" You repeated. Who the hell was that? Glancing down to Archie who was no longer sitting on the countertop but rather brushing past your legs you smiled.

"Hisirdoux, since you're not aware this is y/n, from Arcadia." He spoke as he pushed his glasses back. Nari had soon joined your side as well looking ecstatic to see a new face.

Arcadia? The only kids he knew from Arcadia was the trollhunters gang and that little girl who-

Wait.

You were that little girl?!

You laughed as his sudden realization affected his expression. He didn't have droopy eyelids anymore and wasn't standing like he was about to pass out from exhaustion. No matter how long he's lived he still can't sleep regularly. You sighed internally. Would you end up like him too? "Y/n L/n." You stuck your hand out. "Perhaps I didn't state my name when I pestered you three years ago."

Douxie accepted your hand shake before shuffling over to the couch. You followed him and took a seat as he did. Archie had curled up on his lap and Nari wormed her way beside you. His couch was fit for two people but Nari was smaller than you were so she managed to fit fine. "What brings you to New York y/n?" The wizard asked as he stared at the television. It seemed that after he realized you weren't a threat his tired mood had made a reappearance.

"I'm going to NYU this year and a certain sorceress mentioned that you were in New York so I decided to drop by." You answered. Honestly, you had wished to see Douxie after you turned in your research report but it had been too late. You weren't able to see him on that day or the next. It took a month before you went back to the bookstore and by then he had already up and left according to Claire.

Douxie looked at you with one eyebrow raised as if he wasn't buying anything you said. "Okay fine! I'm not lying about NYU by the way but last year I started noticing weird stuff happening." You looked down at your hands then back up at your friend. He was urging you to continue. "Something dark had been following me around. I have no idea what it was or who it was until it attacked me. I managed to run away at least I thought I did but this thing cornered me. I must have gotten so scared to the point that I blasted it." A yellow ball of light shone in your palm. "I've never done anything like that before and I was scared it would return so I tried my best to read some of those books you left lying around in the bookstore. The ones about magic. When I learned a few basic spells I knew it wouldn't be enough to protect my family so I decided to track you down. So here I am." The glowing light came to a stop.

Douxie was thinking. Something attacked you, something that scared you to the point you unleashed magic you never knew you had. It could only be the Arcane Order but why would they come after you? Was it possible that they already knew about your powers? Dragging his hand down his face he yawned. "How about you get some sleep and we talk about this later?" You suggested.This man looked exhausted. Archie had briefly mentioned that Douxie worked all the way across town from where they live at a pizza parlour during the weekdays on top of another job at a fish market down the block on the weekends all while tackling odd jobs and making sure there was a protection spell around the apartment at all times. No wonder he was drained.

"No no it's okay." Another yawn escaped and you stood up only to grab a blanket and drape it over him.

"Master wizards need their energy." You reminded him as he settled into the couch.

"But-"

"Don't but anything me Douxie. I'll make sure to leave out the fact that you're sleep deprived in the book. Don't want the kids thinking they can do anything without needing a good night's rest." You said using your magic to turn down the television. It was five in the afternoon now, you could just hang out with Nari and Archie until he woke up.

Hisirdoux reminded himself to offer you some of the pizza in the fridge whenever he woke up. You decided to continue your conversation from earlier with Archie and Nari back in the kitchen. "Are you going to ask him?" Nari asked as she tended to her plants.

"I don't know. He has a lot on his plate right now I don't think I want to add more. Besides what if he says no? What do I do then just go back to my ordinary life and hope that thing doesn't find me?" You opened the fridge to help yourself to whatever they had. To your amusement they had pizza. Knowing this family's circumstances it would be best to leave them with what they have but Archie was currently begging you to put him out of his misery. They had been eating pizza for about a month now and no matter the different toppings the smell of it alone was dreadful. Archie was quite glad that Douxie didn't come home with a box today.

"Douxie may be busy but he's not heartless. Now that he knows you're in danger and this may be linked to the Arcane Order the chances of him saying yes outweigh the chances of him saying no." Archie riddled off. It sounded like he was scolding you but you knew he was just looking out for you. Pouting you threw a slice on a plate and stuck it in the microwave for a minute.

"Who's this Arcane Order anyway?" You grumbled. If they even made Douxoe scared then they were a big deal. The wizard was a bit of scaredy cat though so maybe he was just in his head again. You think he would've improved in three years. You watched as Archie stretched out his back and Nari tried to shush you. Weird. Even they seemed to be on edge and well Nari was a literal goddess was she not? And Archie was a cat who could speak! Okay he was a really powerful familiar who took on the form of a feline but still. Grabbing your pizza from the microwave you desperately blew on it.

"A group of very evil people who ate after Nari. Before Merlin died he trusted Hisirdoux with protecting her." Archie said hopping off the counter and onto the floor.

You almost dropped your hot pizza out of shock. The greatest wizard is dead? "H-how long has he been...you know?" You asked as Nari picked up Archie and stroked him gently.

"About 3 years." The girl said with a sad smile. "Merlin gave his life to protect me and it's the last thing I want Douxie to do." She glanced over at his body now sprawled out on the couch as light snores could be heard.

"3 years?" You spoke in disbelief. That meant he would've died around the time you first met him. That was when you realized that he had never strayed from telling the story of Camelot those years ago. He didn't give you the luxury of extra details he kept it simple and straightforward. Not spending too much time on Merlin and Morgana's personalities in fact he would somehow direct the conversation back to you and your childish enthusiasm about the tale. Allowing you to add your own input. You suppose he's been on the Earth long enough to know how to build people's narratives. Besides you wouldn't have noticed it then, you were merely a child. One that had no idea about the mess she was getting into. You took a bite of your pizza and sighed. That cool wizard you met 3 years ago was just a guy stuck in some eternal time loop with his cat and adopted sister. Running from danger while working too many jobs and not getting enough rest. You were seriously contemplating not going to college to help him out.

Okay so what you met some weird wizard three years ago on a whim but now that you had magical powers maybe you could assist him in some way. He wouldn't have to be living on a prayer anymore. You could help him take down those bad guys and then he wouldn't have to stay in hiding like this. He would be safe to roam the world along with Nari and Archie. If he was in your place you think he'd do the same. He is awfully selfless. To the point that you knew he was planning on giving his own life during the Camelot battle. It still chills you to this day to think about it. Maybe you would take that offer the familiar was pushing you towards. Archie and Nari were staring at you worriedly. You did basically stop talking.

With the last bite of your pizza you stepped forward with a grin. "I'll do it. I'll ask Douxie to be my mentor and I'll help him fight the Arcane Order!" You declared loudly. Nari had accidentally dropped Archie when she went to clap. A hiss came from Archie as he was about to mouth her off.

"I'm trying to sleep!" Douxie slurred from the couch. You wondered if he was conscious enough to know what you were saying.

"Sorry master" you chuckled alongside Archie and Nari.

#douxie #hisirdoux casperan #toa hisirdoux #hisirdoux x reader #wizards tales of arcadia #archie #nari #douxie x reader

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