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#Which means they are afraid your vote very much WILL count for something
babyboibucky · 3 years
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Should’ve Known Better
Pairing: EB!Frank x Reader
Summary: You should have known better than to sleep with a friend.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Smut, FWB set-up, a little bit of toxic shit, angst
A/N: Frank got the most votes when I asked which other Seb character I should write for, so here it is! This is very personal to me lmfao it’s somewhat based on my own experience that really fucked me up a couple of years ago aksncajscna no but for real, stay away from the friends with benefits kind of relationship if you can’t keep shit purely sexual lmao also some guys are just fucking assholes even if they’re your friend lol
ALSO, I tagged those who are in my Everything Bucky Tag List. I’m not sure if I’ll write more Frank in the future too so I won’t be creating a separate tag list for him yet.
MAIN MASTERLIST
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"Do you love me?"
It was a simple question that was supposed to make you think. Given your experiences and your personality in general, you were supposed to cringe and ignore it. Maybe even make a joke out of it, especially that it was Frank who was asking you this question.
He wasn't supposed to ask it too. He wasn't one to ask such thing, not especially with the relationship that the both of you have. It was clear from the get go that this was nothing serious.
So why was he asking it now?
And why did you respond to it right away, as if you knew your answer even before he asked?
-
"Come on, it'll be fun."
You should've said no. You should have known better.
"I'll make you feel good, you won't regret this."
It did feel good, you were going to give Frank that. Possibly the best, even. But the latter part? You weren't so sure. Were you regretting it? Honestly, no.
Maybe not yet.
You'd rather not think about it for now.
"What's there to lose? We know each other too much to develop feelings anyway, you said so yourself."
Oh there's plenty to lose. Maybe a decade's worth of platonic (was it really platonic from the beginning though?) friendship. Your self-esteem was on the line too, but you didn't know it yet. You'll get there though, whether you like it or not.
"I'm free next Friday, come over. Spend the night with me. What do you say?"
You should've said no. You should have known better.
"Next Friday. I'll see you, okay?"
You should've said no. You should have known better.
"Ugh, fine."
But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
-
That first night with Frank was something else. It was fun and he kept his promise to make you feel good. So, so good. You never thought that sex could be that fucking good. At least, not with your previous partners. Not that you had many in the first place.
But god, Frank knew what he was doing and he loved doing things to you. He loved the entire process of knowing your body, what you liked and what you loved. How you liked to be kissed and touched and fucked.
He studied your body like his fucking life depended on it and you let him. You let him own your body because you needed someone to. You needed to feel something, wanted to have a purpose even for just a short while, even if it meant being someone's fuck buddy.
You felt lost for the longest time, but as you laid on Frank's bed with his tongue lapping up your cunt, you actually felt like you belonged somewhere.
-
You weren't a booty call, definitely not. And when things escalated between the both of you, Frank was already single and had broken off with his recent girlfriend, Daphne. You weren't a doormat nor a side chick. Frank had been your friend for the longest time, one of your closest actually. He knew you the best and not just physically. Frank knew the darkest parts of you the same way you knew him like the back of your hand. He was the most open to you, he said so himself.
"I don't know what I'd do without you." he told you one time.
Frank wasn't afraid to show you his true colors; how he wasn't the kind to settle for one or how he would often end up with someone immature or toxic. He himself was toxic and for the most part, you tolerated him.
That was the mistake on your part.
You let him be himself, that's why you held a special place in his heart. Not even his past girlfriends could get rid of you. You were untouchable.
"Are you sure she's fine with us going out?" you asked Frank one time, as the both of you headed to the movies.
He scoffed, "Yeah, don't worry. I already told her you're my best friend. You're off limits." he chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside the cinema.
"You're fine." he reassured again, this time wrapping his arm around your shoulder and then cradling your head playfully.
-
Looking back, you sometimes ponder whether the friendship was really platonic. You were sure of it when the both of you first became friends; he was a couple of years older than you. You sort of looked up to him like an older brother for the first few years of your relationship. And he was very caring too, always looking out for you.
Your other friends were the first one to notice the closeness. They often told you that Frank seemed to have a thing for you. You brushed it off though, saying that it was impossible.
His girlfriend then was an acquaintance of yours. She was nice and wasn't bothered by how Frank was affectionate towards you.
Indeed, you were untouchable. You were the best friend after all.
-
"We fought again."
You rolled your eyes at Frank as he sat across from you at a local coffee shop near your place. It was your birthday and as always, you spent the most part of it with Frank.
It was like a tradition already, to celebrate your birthday with Frank first before you went out with your friends. Or even family. It was that kind of friendship.
"I'm sorry but who are we talking about again?" you joked.
Frank made a face, "Daphne." he responded. "I just told you about her like, two days ago."
You snickered, "I was kidding. But honestly though, you have to stop flirting with other girls. It's been really difficult for me to keep track of your record, Frank. And are you and Daphne even official?" you asked, taking a sip from your cold brew.
He rubbed his chin and shrugged, "Sorta. Well, we were official two weeks ago. Now though, I'm not so sure. Here's the thing, Daphne can be really..." he said, trying to search for the right words.
You hummed and shook your head, "Immature?" you said and mindlessly scrolled through your phone.
"You should really stop dating girls who are immature, Frank. I swear to god, this is like...I don't know, the fifth time you dated someone like her? Why don't you settle for someone who actually acts her age?" you blurted out.
Frank groaned and transferred to the seat next to you, his body facing yours and his hand landing on your thigh. You didn't mind, didn't think it was too touchy or intimate for someone who was in a relationship. It was pretty common for Frank to be this touchy with you anyway, you never paid much attention to it nor given it any malice.
"We fought because of you actually." Frank admitted with an apologetic smile.
Your head snapped towards him, a scowl etched on your face. "What did I do?!" you asked in defense.
"It was my fault. Daph saw your photo inside my wallet." he said.
"You should really throw away that photo. Jesus, why do you still have it anyway?" you complained.
Frank scoffed, "That's my favorite photo of you. I don't wanna get rid of it."
That was the last day that you considered your friendship with Frank platonic.
-
Come over
I miss u xoxo
Miss eating u out
Miss ur moans, wanna hear them again
You groaned at the continuous notifications that flooded your phone. While you were at work. After that first night with Frank, he had gotten extra clingy. No lies though, it felt nice to be wanted like this.
im free nxt Sat
Yay
Cant wait to see u, missed u a lot
dude, we were at the mall together just last wk
U really dont get attached do u?
Frowning at Frank's reply, you honestly didn't understand what he was implying.
what u mean?
Nothing
Work kept you busy for the entire week, with Frank bombarding you with sweet texts. You've avoided being sweet with him, it felt wrong. You weren't an affectionate person but Frank was, it was sort of one-sided. It wasn't a big deal anyway.
No one from the rest of your friends knew what had become of your friendship with Frank. You just thought it wasn't something that should be revealed. It was like your and Frank's little secret. You had to admit, the thrill only made the sex better.
Whenever the both of you went out with other people, the tension was there and it was fun. It was fun trying to brush off the way Frank's hand would steal touches from your waist, or how he'd subtly squeeze your thigh. The looks you exchanged from across the room; how Frank's "fuck me" eyes were meant for you and only you.
Things like that made you feel a certain type of way. But you never dwelled on it, or at least, you thought you didn't.
-
"Yeah, fuck...just like that, baby."
Frank's fingers dug deeply into the skin of your ass as he guided your hips. You gripped onto the back of the couch as you bounced on his cock, head thrown back from pleasure as Frank suckled one of your nipples. You could feel each of his fingers pressing down against your skin, it's probably going to leave bruises again.
"Frank, shit. I'm close." you panted against the skin of his neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close.
Frank grunted and took your face in between his palms, forcing you to look at him as he began to thrust his hips upwards, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you.
"Wanted to see you like this ever since." he breathed out, pressing his lips against your open mouth.
"Wanted you since we met, d'you know that?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so he could nibble on your throat.
You shook your head and gripped his shoulders, nails scratching at his skin as you continued to ride his cock, "God, Frank...so close." you moaned.
You felt Frank's lips curl into a smirk against your neck, his fingers gripping your hair to keep you in place as his other hand slipped in between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it to help you reach your climax.
Every single time he touched you, you felt like your entire body was on fire. You felt the most alive, the most free whenever Frank fucked you. Maybe because he was truly gifted in bed or maybe he just knew your body and how to make it sing.
Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at you whenever you fall apart for him. Like he only had eyes for you, like it was only you that he could see.
Sweaty bodies and hoarse voices, the smell of smoke and sex lingering in the air. It was such a familiar ambiance by now. You liked how the aftermath of fucking Frank was never awkward, if any, it was a comfortable experience with the both of you just talking casually about how each other's day went.
"So I'm talking to this girl..." Frank said, turning you around so he could spoon you. Oh, the irony of the intimacy and conversation.
"Where'd you meet this girl?" you asked.
"Tinder." Frank snorted before pressing a kiss on your nape. "No, but she's different. I don't know, there's something about her."
You merely hummed in response.
"Think I might ask her out."
The first sting. The first realization. The first denial.
You should've said no. You should've known better.
-
The art exhibit wasn't a flop, but you wouldn't call it a success either. When you got a call from the organizer asking whether they can include your paintings in the exhibit, you said yes instantly. What can you say? You were a struggling artist who was seeking validation.
But now that you stood in front of your works with barely ten people attending the one-day exhibit, you thought that this wasn't a validation. It felt like a wake up call that maybe, art wasn't your calling and that you should probably give up on your dream.
"These are amazing."
You were on the verge of breaking down when you heard his voice. Turning around, you were surprised to see Frank. He was nodding his head as he approached you, his eyes scanning each of your painting.
"What are you doing here? I thought you had work." you asked.
Frank gave you a face, "Did you really think I'd miss out on your first exhibit?" he said and pulled you into a warm embrace.
"I'm proud of you." he whispered before kissing the crown of your head.
One validation from Frank was all it took for the walls to crumble down. He was the one who had been there for you all along and that was why you completely trusted him.
Frank will never hurt you, he'll never bring you down.
Or so you thought.
-
"Do you love me?"
It was a question that was supposed to make you think. But you didn't, because even before Frank decided to ask you that, you already had your answer.
You knew your answer for the longest time now, but decided to lock it into a box that you kept in the deepest part of your heart. It remained there unbothered and almost forgotten, up until this point.
That's why it was so easy for you to respond to it without even batting an eye.
"Yes."
It was too late when you realized that you had just admitted that you were in love with Frank. But you felt like it was the right time for you to bring out the key to that box, open it and just set your truth free.
They said that the truth will set you free, but why does it feel like it only imprisoned you?
"Shit, I was kidding." Frank said, his face panicked and body stiff from your unexpected admission.
Before you could even say something, Frank let out a nervous laugh as he ran his hand through his locks. "Wow, I didn't...are you serious?" he asked again.
It took you everything to brush off the pain, "Yeah, but it's no big deal. Come on." you shook your head and forced out a breathy chuckle.
Frank heaved out a deep sigh, "Fuck, I was messing with you. Are you sure it's fine? I mean, would this change anything?" he asked.
You deadpanned, "No, Frank. It wouldn't change anything. Like I said, get over it. It's not like I'm in love with you. I just love you...if that makes sense? You're my friend." you explained, more like lied.
"Look, it's not like I'm unattracted to you. I like you, I like spending time with you. It's just that I sort of don't see myself committing to you."
It didn't sink in to you immediately, Frank's statement. You didn't pay it any mind because again, you knew Frank. He wasn't one to commit so that was fine, you understand where he was coming from. It's not like you were going to force yourself on him too. But then you accidentally glanced at his phone and saw the messages he'd been exchanging with a certain someone.
When r u coming home?
In a little while, Daph
That night, Frank's statement hit you like a ton of bricks but again, you chose to deny what you actually felt. It's fine.
You're fine.
-
You should've said no. You should've known better.
Those words rang in your ears on the day that you found out. Your body turned cold, your vision blurred and your head spun. You'd never experienced hurt and anger like this, the kind that consumed you.
The kind that made you realized and admit that fuck, you'd truly fallen for Frank only for him to break your heart.
It didn't help that you were having such a terrible day at work. And Frank was so sweet to ask you whether you wanted to meet up with him. Not for sex, but to talk. The sex came rarely recently and was replaced with wholesome trips to the grocery, shit like that.
You knew there was something special going on. Even after he told you that he didn't see himself being with you, there was something.
Apparently, that something was just an assumption. Because when you asked Frank to meet you up that night, he said he couldn't and needed to be somewhere. That he'd meet with you the next day instead, a promise.
But then you saw him post a photo of him and Daphne. And it made your blood boil.
u back together?
No. Not really, been trying to fix it but u know how it is.
if ur trying to fix it with her then im out, frank
Wait what? Hey, are u mad?
r u fucking serious? u knew i love u and u come here parading ur ex, what the fuck is that all abt?
Shit, hey. Look, let's talk later, okay? Im out, will txt u when Im free.
Frank didn't text you back for the rest of the day.
-
You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
Were you regretting it? Yes. Sometimes.
You didn't know which hurt the most, the fact that Frank kept you in the dark while he was trying to patch things up with his ex, or that he considered you his best friend and still chose to break your heart.
He knew you the best, your relationship and trust issues and out of all the people, he really had to be the one to fuck you up the most. You trusted him so much, trusted him not to hurt you. Hell, if he doesn't want to commit then that's fine. But for him to treat you like a second option? Fuck that.
For him to confuse you with his actions, the intimacy...were all of those even real? All the times he came to your support when you had no one, when he was there for you on days you felt alone. What were those? He made you feel so fucking special, like it was possible to actually turn the friendship into something more than just fucking.
All this time you thought it was one-sided because you never actually showed Frank how much you meant to him the same way he did to you. Turned out that it was one-sided, but only because you were the only one who fell.
The following day, you received a voicemail from Frank. You pondered whether you were ready to listen to it but at the same time, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was pretty stupid, he fucked you up and there was no excuse for that. But the friendship you had with him had a strong hold on you.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. That was my mistake." he started off. "I thought that this was really just sex and having fun, but I want you to know that I like you. I really do, you're special to me. Please give me a chance to make things right. Daph and I...I want to end things with her. Please stay, I don't know what I'd do without you."
“I just didn’t expect that you’d end up falling for me, I mean shit. You know the real me, how fucked up I am when it comes to relationships. Just please...please stay?”
Did you stay? Sort of. But you kept your distance, didn't meet up with Frank after that and only responded to his texts occasionally. Did he end things with Daph?
He didn't.
He said he would but instead, they got back together.
It was fucking selfish of Frank to ask for you to stay only for him to get back together with his ex. It'd be better for him to just slap you in the face then.
Being told that he couldn't see himself committing to you but then going back with his ex was the cherry on top. God, if that didn't mess up with your self-worth.
You totally stopped talking to Frank, ignored his texts and calls. You stayed away from him, tried to get over him and eventually, you did. But you'd be lying if you said that he never left an effect on you. Because he did, Frank did a number on you and it would take you a long fucking time to completely recover from the damage he inflicted on you.
You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.
And that's okay, because there's nothing wrong with taking risks and ending up in heartbreak.
You live, you love and you learn.
-
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junova · 4 years
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↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.
pairing: au!steve x fem!reader
word count: 3K+
warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.
[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3
also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.
ps. don’t forget to vote! <3
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Stevie,
First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.
A good man.
The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.
Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.
More. More. More.
More. More. More.
It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.
I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?
For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.
Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.
A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.
But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.
With much love, your forever friend.
Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.
“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.
Your supposed, secret letter.
“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.
“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.
“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.
“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.
“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.
The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.
Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.
On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.
He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.
Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.
“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.
“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?
“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.
“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”
Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.
“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.
Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.
“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.
Emptiness.
It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.
From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.
Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.
Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.
Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.
You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.
His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.
You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.
Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.
Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.
You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.
Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.
You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.
Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.
The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.
“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”
“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.
“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.
“I think so.”
“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.
If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.
“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.
Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.
Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.
The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.
“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.
He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.
“Are you sure you’re o-”
Just like that.
Fuck.
Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.
He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.
No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.
What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.
Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.
The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.
Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.
You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.
Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.
“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.
“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.
Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.
“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”
Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.
You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.
“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.
“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”
You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.
“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.
“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.
The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.
“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.
“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.
“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”
“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.
“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.
You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.
“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.
Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.
“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before,  I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.
“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.
“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.
“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.
704 notes · View notes
livesincerely · 3 years
Text
inevitability
Part 5 of the Domestic AU (found here)
Also on Ao3
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“So, when are you gonna get married?” Tony asks apropos of nothing, looking between him and Davey with keen interest. 
Jack barely manages to keep from choking on his cereal. Davey, who’d been in the middle of spreading a bit of lox on a bagel, slowly sets down his knife.
Charlie aims a kick at Tony under the table. 
“You’re asking them now?” he hisses. “I thought we were gonna ease them into the idea!”
“There is no easing them into the idea when it comes to Jack and Davey,” Tony says, his expression tight with the exasperation of the long suffering. “You gotta give it to ‘em straight, right from the get go, ‘cause they’ll never figure it out on their own.”
“Hey,” Jack says weakly, but he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and they all know it.
“So, I’m asking,” Tony determinedly continues as if Jack hadn’t said anything. “When are you gettin’ married?”
There’s a long pause where he and Davey just stare at each other, neither of them quite sure how to respond.
He gets this from you, Davey’s expression says, clear as day.
I know he does, Jack says with a commiserating look, holding back a sigh.
“Well?” Tony demands when the silence stretches on for too long.
“It’s a little soon to be thinking about marriage,” Davey eventually says, far more delicately than Jack would’ve managed. “We haven’t talked about it at all yet⁠—”
“Because we only just got together yesterday, Tony,” Jack dryly interjects. “In case you forgot about that little detail.”
“—And we should probably start with the question of if we want to get married before we jump to the when,” Davey concludes.
Tony’s nose scrunches up, obviously dissatisfied with this answer.
“Of course you’re gonna get married,” he says, as if this is plainly obvious. “You’re basically married already, I just wanna know when the wedding’s gonna be.”
“Um.” Davey’s gone faintly pink. “Well, like I said, Jack and I haven’t talked about anything like that yet. We’re comfortable the way we are now, no need to rush into anything⁠—”
“And since we literally only just got together yesterday,” Jack says again, a little more emphatically, just to make sure the point lands, “getting married right off the bat would be all kinds of crazy.”
Tony levels him with the flattest look in all of existence. “You’re crazy if you think you haven’t already been married to Davey for years.”
Jack’s voice catches in his throat, a little blindsided by the frank truth of that statement. Davey’s mouth opens and closes, the rosy flush of his cheeks shading a touch deeper. 
“We’re not thinking about gettin’ married just yet,” Jack says once he’s steadied himself, in a tone that brooks no further arguments. “Dave and I will talk about it when the time comes, if⁠,” he stresses clearly, “we decide that’s what we want.”
“But what, exactly, is holding you back?” Tony asks, stubbornly brooking further arguments anyway. “Like, do you have any actual reasons?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business,” Jack snipes back. “Given that that’ll be a conversation between me and Davey.”
“I just don’t understand what the big deal is,” Tony says, crossing his arms across his chest. “Pretty much nothing would change, except that the next time someone assumes that you two are married, they’d actually be right instead of simply noticing what was so obvious that even complete strangers clue in to it⁠—”
“Tony,” Jack groans.
“—coming to the perfectly reasonable conclusion that you’re together⁠—”
“Tony, that’s enough, we get it,” Jack says.
“—instead of the inexplicable reality of the situation which was that you were, in fact, not together, despite being in love with each other for eight entire years because you’re idiots⁠—”
Jack covers his face with his hands.
“—and given that, like, every aspect of your lives are already tangled together, it’s not really that big of a step for you to just go ahead and make it official.”
Jack sighs so hard he feels it in his bones. “If we promise to talk about this, will you please stop talking about it?”
“Eight years, Jack!” Tony cries, impassioned. “That’s half of my life! That’s more than half of Charlie’s life!”
“Do not bring me into this,” Charlie quickly interjects, “I am a passive witness and nothing more.”
“You’re such a fucking turncoat, Choo-Choo,” Tony mutters with no real heat. “You’re supposed to have my back on this.”
“Maybe if you could ever actually stick to a plan,” Charlie grumbles back.
“We will talk about it,” Jack says loudly, interrupting their bickering before it can gain any ground. “Okay?”
There’s a moment of blessed silence. 
Then Tony says, “So, like, right now? Or…?”
“Sure!” Jack says, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Why not? Clearly, I’m not gonna get any fucking peace until this is sorted—
“Finally!” Tony exclaims. “God, was that so hard?”
“—So go away,” Jack finishes.
Tony’s mouth falls open.
“What do you mean, go away?” he protests, looking genuinely shocked. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I’m not gonna let you sit here and fucking… moderate our conversation, dumbass,” Jack sputters. “Get out!”
“But I really feel like this is the kind of conversation that needs moderating,” Tony disagrees. “It’s not like either of you have a great track record for effective communication⁠—”
“Anthony Ethan Higgins,” Jack warns, nearly at the end of his rope. 
Tony rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with the motion. “I am literally just trying to help, you don’t gotta get all defensive about it⁠—”
“Jesus Christ, Tony,” Jack says, completely and utterly done. “Will you please just⁠— Just go somewhere that isn’t here.”
“But are you gonna talk about it?” Tony insists, really digging in his heels. “Because if you’re just gonna not talk about it the second I leave then I think I should⁠—”
“Tonio, juro por Dios—”
“Tony, honey,” Davey finally steps back into the fray, far calmer than he has any right to be, and somehow, miraculously, Tony’s mulish expression softens into something a little chagrined. Jack gapes, wrong-footed by the sudden change. “I think you’ve made your point and given Jack more than enough heart attacks for one morning, yeah? So why don’t you go ahead and give us a few minutes, and I promise we’ll talk about it.”
Tony deflates. “Yeah, okay.”
“Thank you, baby.”
Tony shuffles away, mollified for now. Davey pauses, then says, “Charlie, that means you too.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” Charlie protests. “I’m just sittin’ here, tryin’ to eat.”
He takes an exaggerated bite of his bagel as if to prove his point, eyes extra wide and innocent.
“Charlie.”
“But my food!”
“Take it with you,” Davey suggests, very patiently.
Charlie looks as though that thought hadn’t occurred to him.
“Okay,” he says, scooping up his plate and scurrying after his brother. He hesitates in the doorway, then adds, “My vote is for an autumn wedding, if that counts for anything.”
“Charlie.”
“Going!”
Once he’s sure they’re both gone, Jack heaves another massive sigh.
“They’re such a pair of little shits,” he says, to Davey and the world at large. “Fucking hell.”
Davey takes a drink of his coffee, holding out his other hand to Jack in offering. Jack reaches over and laces their fingers together, most of his irritation slipping away in an instant at the simple contact.
“But he is right, you know,” Davey comments.
“I know he’s right,” Jack grumbles, rubbing his thumb gently over Davey’s knuckles. “Don’t mean he ain’t a little shit.”
“Well, naturally,” Davey agrees. “He was raised by you.”
“Oh, please,” Jack says with a snort. “That little spiel of his was all you. ‘The inexplicable reality of the situation,’' he echoes, shaking his head. “It was like hearin’ your voice comin’ outta Tony’s mouth.”
“And it was a well thought-out argument,” Davey says pertly, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a wry little grin. “His timing could use some work, though.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Jack says, huffing out a breath. “Didn’t even let us finish eating before he pounced.”
“It has been eight years,” Davey says, and he’s definitely holding back a laugh. “Guess he’s afraid of a repeat performance.”
“Well....” Jack trails off with a shrug, because that part’s hard to argue with. More than half of Charlie’s life, Jesus. “Yeah, but he was talkin’ like he expected us to walk down the aisle this afternoon. I mean, we can’t just get married. You don’t just get married.”
“Most people don’t,” Davey says, tilting his head. “But then, we aren’t really most people, are we, darling?”
It takes a moment for this statement to really register for Jack⁠, and when it finally does, it lands with an earth shattering boom.
“Are you sayin’ you’d marry me?” Jack asks, utterly floored, heart pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest.
“Are you asking me?” Davey asks, calmly sipping his coffee like he isn’t rocking Jack’s world, right here over breakfast, for the second time in not even two days.
“You want to marry me?”
This makes Davey pause. 
“Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” he asks, a confused little furrow forming between his brows.
“Stop answerin’ all of my questions with questions,” Jack demands, a wealth of feelings bubbling furiously in his chest. “Just— You’re serious? Like, you’d really just— Just like that?”
Davey looks at him, his eyes bright blue and utterly sincere. 
“Just like that,” he softly agrees. “If you asked.”
“Well, I’m not askin’,” Jack snaps. His face colors immediately: “No, I didn’t mean it like— It’s just, I don’t want to seem, I don’t want’cha ta think—“
Davey reaches up and gently presses two fingers to Jack’s lips, and Jack’s sputtering slows to a halt.
“Breathe, darling,” Davey says, and the tightness in Jack’s throat eases in the face of Davey’s warm, steady gaze. “What’s got you so worked up about this? I get that it wasn’t what we were expecting to have to talk about this morning, but you seem… upset.”
“I’m not upset,” Jack says.
Davey keeps looking at him.
“...Maybe I’m freaking out a little bit,” Jack allows.
“Talk to me,” Davey prompts, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. “What’s wrong?”
Jack licks his lips, then blurts, “You know that I’m, like, wholly and unshakably in love with you, right?”
Davey blushes, a dash of red pooling high in his cheeks and cutting across the bridge of his nose, his fingers curling even tighter around Jack’s own. 
“Perhaps not in those exact words,” Davey murmurs, smiling as he stares down at their joined hands. Even his ears have turned red⁠—it’s kind of wonderful. “But I had something of an inkling, yes.”
“And you know that if it was just about commitment, if it was just about wanting to, I’d marry you in a heartbeat,” Jack continues. “We could go down to the courthouse today, if it was just that. I’ve been ready for you⁠—for us⁠—for years, sweetheart. I love you. You get that, don’tcha?”
Now it’s Davey’s turn to go speechless.
“Oh,” he says. “I… that’s…” 
“But it’s not just about wanting to,” Jack says. “It’s not about being ready.”
“Then what’s it about, Jackie?”
“It’s about makin’ sure we do this right,” Jack explains. “‘Bout makin’ sure I do this right.”
Davey’s eyes sweep over his face, searching, then his expression turns tender.
“Jack,” he says, his voice full of affection. “You don’t have anything you need to prove to me. Not a single thing.”
“But I do, cielito,” Jack disagrees. “I need you to know that I don’t take you for granted. That you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That I’d do anything and everything for you. That I love you.”
He lifts Davey hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it.
“When I propose to you, and I am gonna propose to you one day,” Jack says, intently, holding Davey’s gaze, “It’s gonna be special. It’s gonna be sappy. I’m gonna make sure you understand how absolutely, stupidly in love with you I am. I’m going to sweep you off your fucking feet, because you deserve that, Dave. You deserve all of that and more.”
“Jack,” Davey breathes. “Jackie.”
“So I’m not askin’,” Jack finishes. “Not yet. Not today.”
Davey’s smile is a beautiful thing. 
“But one day,” he says, leaning in to press their foreheads together, 
“One day,” Jack confirms, and he seals the promise with a gentle kiss. “One day.”
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Tag List: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy @stroopwafeldetective @amillionandonefandoms
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elleonmybeloved · 4 years
Text
The weather on the day of the competition was perfect, nary a cloud in the sky and a warm fresh smelling breeze blew throughout the city of Mondstadt. Everybody was gathered around the archon statue, in front of which a raised wooden platform has been placed as a makeshift stage. The person in charge of the event is just a person who owns an instrument shop in the city, but the real weight behind regulating the event is the group of knights of Favonius that stand guard in the area and enforce safety as well as the rules of the proceedings. There’s no panel of judges. It’s the audience who chooses the winner by writing the name of the bard who gave their favorite performance and placing it inside a wooden box to be counted by the host.
“Ooh, Paimon can’t wait! When are they gonna start already?” Lumine’s floating companion gives an impatient wiggle. “Oh wait, look, here comes the host now!”
The host steps up on the stage, and after a minute the swelling chatter from the crowd dies down to a murmur.
“Greetings citizens of Mondstadt, and welcome to another battle of the bards! It is my pleasure to announce that we will be treated to fifteen performances today. Each contestant will be performing two songs, one preexisting song of their choice, and one of their own. After they have all given their performances, you, the audience, may cast your vote for whoever most greatly moved your heart with their music.” He gives a break for applause.
“May the anemo archon watch over us all! Let the contest begin!” The host steps down off the stage and the first bard takes his place.
One performance after another, the city fills with music. Some chose upbeat, joyous melodies, others slow and mellow ballads, and even some that take a jazzy tune and encourage clapping and dancing from the audience. Lumine is amused to witness what she guesses is a bard commissioned by Stanley to make a song about him and his famous adventures.
By the end of that song, she and the crowd have already memorized the repetitive words and are joining in to shout-sing the great adventurer’s name.
“Good for him, I guess.”
“Paimon thought this was supposed to be emotionally moving music! Geez.”
“They never specified which emotion.” Lumine points out, but before Paimon can quip back, a hush falls over the crowd again as the next bard comes up.
The lanky teen in bright teal that takes the stage is surely Venti, but his prescence feels so different from what she’s used to. Lumine swallows dryly. He’s the one on stage about to perform, so why is she the one feeling nervous all of a sudden?
Venti begins with the first song- Lion Heart, the one about Venessa, the great hero of Mondstadt. The melody flows like the wind but the sound grows and flares like a fire in a grand way that makes her feel as if she herself has been transported back in time and is standing in the middle of a raging war. His voice is strong and unwavering as he effortlessly tackles difficult notes, and his lyre sounds more like the herald of a trumpet than some little church house harp.
When it’s over, the audience whistles and calls out loudly with applause. The man next to her is exclaiming that he has “-Not heard that classic song so masterfully done in decades!” And Lumine has to agree with the sentiment. He could end it right now and still be the one to go home with the prize.
“Oh wooow, who knew the tone-deaf bard could do that! And to think, Paimon didn’t believe him when he said singing was the only thing he did well.”
“Yeah.” She says, squinting at the stage. Venti is setting down his lyre and is taking... something, up to the stage. It looks a bit like a lute, but it’s curved in swirling angles and with it there’s a... straight bow? Nobody else seems puzzled by this, so she figures it’s an instrument native to Teyvat.
He gets into position and Lumine’s heart begins to pound in her chest. Here it comes!
It starts with a deep, resounding hum in a minor key, tamely going above and below the starting note of the chord. The instrument makes a beautifully layered, rich sound that supports the higher and lighter tone of his voice in such a nice way that she instantly understand why he chose to use this instead of his lyre. The melody begins mysterious, and she strains her ears to make out every word.
Venti tells the tale of a forest, ruled by a bird king, a white dove. His voice flutters like the flapping of wings.
The bird king loves his forest, but invaders keep coming in and threatening it. The kings friend, the lizard, drives off the invaders, but the venom of his attack drips to the ground and poisons the forest, causing all the plants to slowly wither and die. The bird king tries everything, but cannot cure the poison, and resigns himself to die with his beloved forest instead of abandoning it, and becomes poisoned as well.
The deep thrum of the stringed instrument waxes somber.
Then, a star falls from the sky, crashing into his forest with a great flash. To the bird king’s surprise, out from the crash site flows light that purifies the poison in the forest, eventually even himself, and the great lizard. He goes to thank the star, but encounters instead a lake of tears and ash.
The bird king asks the fallen star why it laments so. The star says she has lost her ability to fly, and cannot rejoin her friends that soar the heavens. Not being able to fly sounds like the most painful fate the bird king has ever heard, and his heart is moved to help the fallen star.
Lumine recognizes a theme that resembles her song in this part, and then the instrument and Venti’s voice swirl up to a new sound.
The bird king plucks a feather from his own wing, and plants it in the now purified ground. A flower grows, and from it, he plucks a fruit.
He offers the fruit to the fallen star, telling her it is a magical fruit that can restore her power to fly, but it will cause her much pain. She eats the fruit, and is engulfed in a great flame. From the ashes of the fire, she rises, no longer a fallen star, but a phoenix.
The music soars to a climax, shifting from a minor to major key in the last few notes. Then it’s over, and Venti lowers the instrument to take a bow.
The crowd is silent a moment before erupting into applause. Lumine doesn’t know how to feel. She can’t even begin to unpack the meaning of what she just experienced.
Another bard, the next contestant replaces Venti on the stage. Lumine somehow tunes back into the present.
“-and so before I begin my performance I have something to say.” The woman on stage couldn’t be much older than Lumine. There’s something familiar about her. “Unfortunately the song I was about to play has already been played.”
A confused murmur passes through the crowd.
“I got the idea to write a song about a magic forest after being rescued by some adventurers in the Whispering Woods. I worked really ha-“ Her voice breaks on the word. “Worked really hard on it and I was so excited to show it you all today. But I can’t, because he,”
She is lifting a finger at Venti. “Stole my song.”
The host steps forward with an uneasy expression. “That’s quite the accusation. Do you have any proof, Miss...?
“-Solia. Of course I do.” She says, and hands him her notebook. “Here’s where I wrote it. You can even see the drawing I made of the bird who inspired the Bird King.”
“This... does resemble the white cranes in the Whispering Wood.” He admits. Gasps and whispers come from the crowd. Somebody says they always knew Venti was a thief and several others hear that and murmur to each other.
Lumine cannot believe her ears. She can’t see Venti’s expression from here, and she pushes through the crowd to get closer.
“Is what she is saying true, young man? Please be honest.”
Lumine pushes through to the front just as Venti answers him.
“Uheheh, no. If this is meant to be a jest, I’m afraid I must protest.” He just looks really confused. “It’s not that funny.”
“Liar!” Solia cries. “It’s my song!”
Lumine realizes where she’s seen this woman before. Sitting at the base of a windmill, writing in a notebook, a week and a half ago.
“Actually, it’s my song.”
The host looks even more confused as Lumine climbs into the stage and strides over to stand in between Solia and Venti.
“And by that I mean, he wrote it for me while you sat underneath him by the windmill and copied what you heard word for word.”
“Uh, who are you?” Solia is thrown off beat by the exposure, face flushing rapidly. “His -his girlfriend?”
“Enough of this.” The host insists. One of the knights of Favonius is saying something to him. “This young lady is an honorary knight, appointed by Acting Grand Master Jean herself. Miss Solia, if you don’t intend to play your songs, please exit the stage.”
“Huh? But-“ Solia splutters through several half formed protests, but the knight steps towards her and she raises her hands. “I-I’m going.”
Lumine turns to Venti. He looks dazed, like he still can’t believe what happened. “Come on Venti.” She grabs his hand and pulls him with her off stage. “Let’s go.”
They’re a block away before she stops. She is still holding his hand.
She’s at a loss for words. “I can’t believe she did that.”
“It’s okay, Lumine.” He’s already soothing her. “I’m not angry! Eheh... but wow, I should’ve been more careful. I hope it didn’t ruin the song for you.”
“No, not at all!” She shakes her head vehemently, clasping both his hands in hers now. “It was really good. I was really moved. You were so good!”
“Hehe. Thanks.” He’s looking at her grip on his hands.
Lumine realizes and drops them like she’s been burned.
Venti retrieves them and presses one against his cheek and rubs against it.
The question she was about to ask sputters out at the bold gesture.
“You’re so cute.” He croons, and tugs her closer to him. His blue eyes shine with mischief and happiness. “Wanna play a game?”
“Play a- uh yeah, okay!”
“Close your eyes. Open em and you lose~!”
The way he is petting her is very distracting. Lumine closes her eyes and hopes she doesn’t look dumb. She can feel his breath on her face. Her heart lurches in anticipation.
“...”
She cracks an eye open, wondering what’s going on.
“Hey! Come on, you didn’t even last ten seconds!” He complains. “I’m good at this but I’m not that fast.”
The long parts of her hair are in his hands, one side half braided. She realizes he is giving her the same style as him.
“Oh sorry.” She says, and closes her eyes at his pointed look. Lumine holds very still. She feels repetitive little tugs at her hair one side, then the other. Is he finished? Feels like it.
“We match.” His voice is very close.
Pressure pulls her head forward by the braids in a gentle motion. And then there’s a swell of warmth as soft lips press firm against hers and a hand presses against the small of her back.
Lumine was sufficiently fooled into not expecting it, and a chorus of butterflies rise in her stomach as Venti pulls back and kisses her again.
Elation fills her at the confirmed prospect of his feelings and her cautiously withheld affection for him breaks free. Lumine presses a hand to the back of Venti’s neck to bring their lips even closer together.
They take turns swapping sweet kisses until they are both breathless and love-drunk. Venti isn’t there to hear himself win first place.
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waywardxwords · 4 years
Text
Why’d It Have to be Snakes
Summary: After a tiring hunt, you return to your motel to find an unwelcomed addition. Your fear builds up enough anxiety that you don’t know what to do, so you quickly call Sam. He comes to your rescue, making a few jokes in the process.
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader
Word Count: 1,723
Warnings: Fluff!
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Your eyelids felt heavy as you pulled open your motel door. You were unbelievably exhausted. You blindly reached for the light switch on the wall and blinked against the poorly lit room after they flicked on. You dropped your duffel next to the dresser and glanced around the familiar layout of the typical motels you shacked up in every night.
Except there was an addition to this room—an addition that made your stomach drop and your eyes widen in complete terror.
You swallowed the lump that had formed against your throat and began to back away until your back bumped against the door. If someone had asked you what your worst nightmare would be, this situation would very well make the top ten.
Your hand reached for your back pocket, your eyes never faltering from the creature before you. His number was the last one you had called. You swiftly slid the iPhone from your jeans and swiped the screen to hurriedly redial his number. You placed the phone to your ear and prayed he hadn’t jumped in the shower yet.
“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” He had just seen you five minutes before, so it was a completely valid question.
“I’m uh, fine…but could you come to my room for a sec?” Your voice shook a bit as you spoke and you swallowed again as you tried to contain yourself. You watched the thing move slowly, still seemingly unaware of your presence. Or maybe it knew you were there but could sense that you were insanely terrified of it to get any closer.
“Uh, sure,” he seemed confused. “I’ll be right there.”
You both hung up without another word. Your eyes danced over the figure, watching for any kind of sudden movement. Your body jumped and breath hitched at the sound of a knock on your door. Sam Winchester, your knight in shining armor (or, rather, his familiar brown Carhartt jacket).
You moved your eyes away for just a moment to open the door. His hazel eyes searched your face for any sign of danger. His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened when he noticed how scared you were.
“What is it?” He reached for your arm and gently moved you aside so he could pass into the room.
You gulped and merely waited for him to see it, seemingly lost for words.
A gentle laugh erupted from the back of his throat when he spotted it. He turned to you with a look on his face that told you he was enjoying this way too much. “A snake? Really?”
You huffed and folded your arms over your chest. “Sammy, come on,” you whined. You wanted to clasp your hand over your mouth as soon as the sound came out. You were never a whiner, but when it came to snakes, all bets were apparently off.
“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in a surrendering motion. Sam glanced around the room for something to capture the slithering reptile, which was currently coiled up in the corner of the room. “How did a snake get in here, anyway?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t stop to ask it. Just please get rid of it,” the anxiety was making your skin crawl. You felt bad for the way you were speaking to him, especially since he had come to help you. But you literally couldn’t help yourself. Your fear gave you word vomit and unfortunately, you were currently puking all over your hero.
Sam didn’t seem to mind—he was too preoccupied with scooping the snake into the empty wastebasket from the bathroom. The alarmed snake slithered around the basket but seemed to be secured.
You moved clear to the other side of the bed as Sam headed for the door of the room, still shaking his head with a chuckle. “Relax, Indiana Jones. You’re safe.”
He left the motel room door open as he stepped outside with the bucket. Your heart thudded against your chest as you sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to normalize your breathing; it was useless. You found yourself looking around the room just in case this snake had a mate. Did snakes travel in pairs? You weren’t willing to take the risk.
“Alright, you’re all set,” Sam sighed as he reappeared in the doorway with a now empty wastebasket.
“Thanks, Sam,” you finally managed to mutter as you stood up, now clearly embarrassed. Your cheeks flushed as you dropped your head to look at the carpet. A curtain of your hair fell into your peripheral vision.
“Hey,” you noticed his boots come into your line of view and felt his large hands on your shoulders. One hand dipped under your chin to lift your gaze to meet his. “You’re safe, it’s gone.” You could tell he was trying to fight the grin that kept playing on his lips. You rolled your eyes and pulled out of his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he finally busted at the seams with laughter he was trying to contain. “It’s just…snakes?”
“Yes, for the tenth time now, snakes,” you rolled your eyes and plopped back down on the edge of the bed.
“I just can’t get over it,” he seemed thoroughly amused. “I’ve seen you machete a vamp and stab a shifter. But yet you can’t handle a snake?”
“Two can play that game, Bozo,” you stood from your spot on the bed and marched towards him, determined. “Don’t make me show you the clown video on YouTube again.” Sam’s features instantly straightened. Your mouth cracked into a smile.
“Clowns kill people,” Sam’s jaw tensed, but you could still sense the playful nature between the two of you.
“So do snakes, last time I checked,” you raised your eyebrows in debate.
“Touché,” his lips curved into a small smile. You tried to get the image of the snake out of your mind but yet still felt like your skin was crawling all over; the image of the slithering reptile made you squirm involuntarily. “Just remember what Dean always tells me…”
Before he could even finish, you cut him off. “I know, I know. If it bleeds, you can kill it,” you muttered. “Ugh, I just really hate those damn things,” you shuddered, your arms folded across your chest. “I know it’s lame, trust me—I know. I grew up with two brothers, remember? I got made fun of plenty for my irrational fear.”
Sam rolled his eyes and moved to stand in front of you. “It’s not that irrational,” he reasoned when he noticed you really were worked up over this whole thing. “I mean, snakes are a pretty common fear.” He smirked as his oversized palm gently grazed your cheek; his calloused thumb ran just underneath your eye. You closed your eyes at the touch and felt yourself instantly relax from the overwhelming anxiety you had felt just moments before.
“Yeah, well, I guess lots of people are afraid of clowns, too,” your voice was calm and sympathetic to his equally as debilitating fear.
Sam smiled at your small offering of compassion and bent his head to move his lips delicately over yours. Your hand reached up and grasped onto his hand which cupped your cheek.
“Stay?” Your voice was subtle and almost distant. You finally opened your eyes and peered into his hazel orbs that you loved so much. Sam’s gaze danced between your eyes and his jaw tightened in hesitation.
“If I stay, Dean will have us figured out,” he explained carefully. You moved just your eyes to stare at the multicolored carpet below your feet and Sam instantly regretted what he had said. “Hey, how about I lay with you for a little while? Keep the snakes away?” He laughed softly and smiled when your eyes finally gleamed back at him.
“I vote yes,” you leaned up on your tiptoes to reach his lips once more. While you and Sam were still learning exactly what this was, you enjoyed every second you spent in his presence. A drunken night out a bar while Dean was preoccupied with a random female friend led you and Sam to sporadic hook-ups, to subtle moments on hunts where your bodies would discretely brush up against one another so Dean wouldn’t notice, to sober nights cuddling after a long hunt hours after Dean had gone to bed. Neither of you knew what exactly any of this meant, but right now that didn’t seem to matter. All that mattered was that you were enjoying each other’s company.
Sam lovingly reached under the shoulders of your leather jacket and pulled the garment until it was off of your arms and tossed on the sitting chair in the corner of the room. He lifted your black tank top and tossed it on top of the jacket. You eyed his plaid button-up and raised your eyebrows.
Sam laughed and with a quick roll of his eyes, he removed the jacket and unbuttoned his shirt to give it to you. “I’m not letting you keep this one. You keep taking my clothes and I’m not going to have anything to wear at all.”
“I mean, I don’t really see what the problem is…” you winked as you pulled the sleeves over your arms and buttoned the shirt up so your cleavage was barely visible. You pulled off your pants and clambered onto the bed.
“Oh yeah, Dean would love that one,” Sam laughed as he climbed after you in just his jeans. The two of you crawled under the floral comforter and below the sheets.
Sam propped up a pillow against the headboard so he could lean against it, ensuring that he wouldn’t fall asleep and owe Dean an awkward explanation in the morning. He grabbed the remote and switched on the TV as you curled up to his side, your face against his bare chest and your arm tucked across his middle. He scooted you closer to him by wrapping his arm around your side and holding you to him. He absent-mindedly played with your hair as he watched the late-night TV program.
“Night, Bozo,” you mumbled sleepily as your eyelids drifted closed in the glow of the television.
Sam grinned as he leaned down to place a kiss on top of your head. “Night, Indy.”
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wehatejulietsimms · 3 years
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A/N: i'm gonna respond to this in sections bc it's quite long so bare with me.
Howdy y’all, 🤠 again. Yes, I didn’t in fact die. I’m sorry though that I kept getting sidetracked and couldn’t submit this until now, my boss decided to keep dumping her work into my lap. So I just wanna preface this by stating that I’m going to try and say what I want to as coherent as possible, but I have pretty severe ADHD so I’m not always as easy to understand as I think I am in my head, and I often go off on tangents, over explain things and circle back to topics randomly without realizing. Im basically going to go over their relationship over the years as I said previously (I’m not gonna go into detail about every single scandal and shitty thing Juliet did over the years, because we’d be here all year. so I figure I won’t cover them here, but rather let people ask specific questions if they want to. Remember, I was present for pretty much everything so feel free to ask.😊), but I’m also going to do kind of a mini deep dive into Andy’s behavior and actions (because although the snakes will hit you with every excuse in the book, and tell you that you’re looking too far into things and that it doesn’t matter, it does. The way a person acts in general and towards people around them is very relevant when talking about someone’s health, happiness, and well-being.) To start off, let’s take it all the way back to the time before Juliet’s reign of terror, when Andy and Scout were still together. In all honesty from what I saw of them together (and I saw pretty much everything they posted, I’m only a year younger than Andy, and I was quite into him when he was on MySpace and such, and I always watched anything with him and Scout together because they were fucking adorable lol) they had a really healthy relationship. Not once did I get weird vibes from them. The way Andy acted toward and with Scout, you could tell they really loved each other and were happy together. They had nothing to prove. It just was normal. (For any of you who are younger, or didn’t come into the picture until Andy was already post-scout and would like to see some videos of them together, you could generally search on YouTube for it, but also there’s a specific channel on there called like bring the milk tea or something that has videos of old Andy blogs and also Andy and scout on stickam and such. Worth a look if you’re curious) They weren’t constantly all over each other like possessive pack dogs *ahem Juliet ahem* and whenever Andy mentioned scout he didn’t need to shower her in compliments. They both seemed very secure in both themselves and the relationship. Super cute. Initially when they broke up it seemed quite odd. I didn’t really expect it. It got even weirder when he states that he and Juliet are together. It didn’t feel like they fit together at all (and no I’m not talking about from a fame or success perspective. At least not yet lol) As I’ve said I got bad vibes from Juliet right from the get go. Andy already seemed to be acting not like himself. (Also snakeys have argued that it’s just that he’s more mature now and that’s why he acts nervous and constantly looks Ike he wants to die. 🙄 maturity doesn’t mean losing your fucking personality and being unhappy most of the time. Jesus Christ.) it seemed like they got possessive of each other and constantly needed to show people how in love they were. Pictures, videos, and fucking public love paragraphs to show they are, in fact, in a super real relationship and they love each other. It also felt like Andy’s family was in on this whole weird charade.They (Chris honestly) started to defend her degenerate behavior and attack anyone who had even a whisper of negative things to say about her or their relationship. It was like watching a group of awkward, pretty mediocre actors put on a play about them being together. (I’ve hit the text limit now, but there will be more that I will write just after I submit this one though, fear not haha. N, you can either post this now or wait until I submit the rest, it’s up to you.) 1 / ? -🤠
A/N: i was here for a lot of it as well so i do remember some of this. although i did join the fandom shortly after him and juliet got together (i joined like around the time she was on the voice) i literally remember hoping that him and scout would get back together bc juliet just rubbed me the wrong way and i didn't know why at the time. & side note i actually do recommend people go look at old videos of andy and scout they were really adorable. there is this one video of them singing (i think a carrie underwood song lol) in the car and it's really cute. but yeah just bc he's older doesn't mean his whole entire personality changes. you can be any age and act however you want. i could even use jenna marbles & julien solomita (a youtube couple) as an example, they've been together for i think like 8 or 9 years and are about the same age as A&J (julien being around andy's age & jenna around juliet's age) & although they can have mature adult conversations and all of that, they still act like idiots and joke around together. neither of them look uncomfortable or are afraid of saying certain things like andy is around juliet. so andy aging doesn't mean shit in regards to his personality doing a 180.
🤠okay, so part two here we go. (Also I apologize if I get the chronological order of anything I talk about incorrect, I’m a bit scattered sometimes and the next ask I make will be the one where I talk about the domestic abuse and I tend to get quite heated, which only makes my brain function worse lol) so the point at which Andy was trying to get fans to go vote for/ support Juliet when she was on the voice seemed really fishy. I’m all for supporting the work of the people you love, but it’s kinda strange how hard Andy was pushing this at the time. Too hard in my opinion. I’m obviously aware that it was helpful in the end and he more or less got what he was asking for. But it was like he absolutely needed people to vote for her. As if he would get in trouble if they didn’t. So around 2012 or 2013 it felt like things really went down the shitter from there and just got progressively worse. (I never knew why for the longest time, but after they revealed that Vegas wedding that happened in about that time frame, it made a lot of sense.) Andy’s behavior began to change towards his fans. There are a lot of accounts of this happening from fans themselves and a lot of people said that 1. It was worse with Juliet around, and 2. a lot of the time it would happen towards females especially. ( I think more towards the “pretty” fans but don’t count me on that, I don’t know for sure.) This was completely night and day. Especially coming from the same man who used to always defend his fans and once stated something along the lines of he would never have a crazy or awkward fan story because he loves and is grateful for all of his fans and he won’t get upset if they’re just really excited. I would understand if these fans crossed the line in some way (like the later incident of fans finding his address and harassing them, which is unacceptable no matter who the people are) but from most if not all of the fan stories I’ve heard, they didn’t. They were being respectful and didn’t do anything to warrant this happening to them besides showing up. Which brings me to my next point, a lot of these negative experiences were caused by Juliet. Either she was the one being mean to people, she was causing Andy to be mean to people on her behalf, or her presence was upsetting Andy to the point that he was angry and started being rude and irritable. What scares me the most are the accounts of Andy having a whole Jekyll and Hyde thing, depending on weather or not Juliet was present. Happy when he’s free of her and miserable when he isn’t. In videos of him where Juliet is behind the camera he always seems nervous and strange. Like he’s afraid to mess up. That’s fucking alarming to say the least. You would think that the last thing one would want to do if another person brings them this much anger, stress, and anxiety, the LAST thing they would want to do is fucking marry them. Right? He literally started barely smiling at one point and really doesn’t anymore. I mean for Christ’s sake look at his wedding photos. What’s suppose to be one of the happiest moments of your life and to quote another anon with a different ask, he looks like he’s being dragged to the gallows. (And I get really fucking Angry honestly when snakeys tries to pass it off as “oh he’s awkward he doesn’t know how to smile” or “omg he’s being dramatic for the aesthetics” in some pictures, yes. But why the fuck would you look like that in pictures with the “love of your life” who you now regularly write cringy paragraphs publicly professing your love and complete adoration for? Andy knows how to smile genuinely. Ffs he used to. He smiled genuinely when he was a kid, he smiled genuinely with scout, and he smiled genuinely when Juliet wasn’t around. He doesn’t smile when she is there, and if he does, it is pretty much always visibly fake.) So I may backtrack a little later, but right now I want to talk about the fact that Juliet IS an abuser. More specifically, the plane incident. (Word limit. TBC.) 2 / ? -🤠
A/N: yes. 100%. when it comes to the wedding photos i will never understand people (specifically snakeys) writing off his behavior as him "just being dramatic for the aesthetics". is that something he would do in photoshoots? yeah. is it something he may do on stage? sure. something he would do in an interview? maybe. but candid shots of him on one of the "happiest days of his life"? wtf no. & idk why people think that.
🤠 Just before I start, again, with the pictures, I really don’t think that Andy is enough of a self absorbed egotistical dick that he would actually sit there and put on the whole “miserable tough guy” act in every fucking photo he takes. Ah yes, the infamous plane incident. So straight up, Juliet exposed herself as an abuser, and brought out every bullshit excuse in the book (and made Andy go along with them) to try to cover it up. 1. She was drunk. Honestly this is total bullshit. I say this same thing when people defend cheating or any other degenerate behavior with the excuse of intoxication and I will say it now. Being drunk does not make you a different fucking person. It does not change the thoughts in your head. What it does do is impair your ability to make decisions and judgement skills in general. It’s the same reason why people drive drunk. It’s routine. Its what they would normally do. And because they’re drunk, they can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t do that. Juliet gets drunk, she and Andy fight, she wants to hit him, and because she’s drunk she doesn’t think that she shouldn’t fucking put her hands on him. 2. She hit him in “self defense” and he broke her ribs.(There’s several points I have debunking this) first of all let’s get this out of the way, no one on that plane (including the very real witness who just so happened to be an adult film actress (I think?) who you so love to discount because of it) saw him strike her or even touch her at any time. Two, you are in fucking airplane seats sitting right the fuck next to each other with an armrest in between. It would be pretty fucking hard to break your ribs unless they were made of actual glass, or Andy’s real name is Bruce fucking banner. Bones are surprisingly strong and I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that it’d be damn near impossible for him to do that to you, which brings me to three, if he had broken your ribs you would not be fucking standing up, thrashing around, whining like a little bitch, and oh by the way, continuing to abuse your husband for the second time on that flight. Four, you had a miscarriage. (When I was trying to conceive with my husband it was very difficult. I had two miscarriages before I finally had my son. I’m fully aware of how devastating having one is.) which is why if you are not lying (which I fully believe that Juliet would stoop that low just to get sympathy, especially with this big of a scandal. But I don’t actually have proof of this so I will say that it is just speculation on my part) I don’t fucking care. I am not unsympathetic to her if this did actually happen as I said, however, You do not get to make any excuse for putting your hands on another person out of anger. Ever. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care what kind of stress you are under, I don’t care if you are inebriated in any way and I sure as hell don’t care what the fuck you have between your legs. You do not hurt anyone. Point blank period. Five. You are a woman, you can’t hurt him. This one, actually enrages me. We all know your crusty ass pulled this one out (and threw around trump supporters a few times for good measure) because you know damn well how society and the media views and deals with abusive women. Women can abuse. Women who are shorter or weaker than their target can abuse. The fact that there are people who either don’t know that or don’t agree with that is absolutely baffling. Six. The same (I believe) porn actress. Literally saw you beating your own face with the restraints you had to be put in (which by the way flight attendants only ever use restraints as an absolute last resort when someone becomes a danger to the others on board, so she had to be acting absolutely deranged) to give yourself a bloody nose to claim Andy hit you. Then you proceed to act like a child and tell Andy to call your fucking dad. (Which kinda proves that whole Scientology thing honestly) what in the hell. I stg as long as I am breathing I will never let this go. This is actual fucking domestic abuse. (Word limit TBC.) 3 / ? -🤠
A/N: yeah her hitting him "bc she was drunk" was never a good excuse not only for the reasons you mentioned but, also bc let's be real at no point are you ever going to get served enough alcohol on a plane to make you that drunk i don't care what anyone says. also when it comes to the excuse of him "breaking her ribs" does she forget that andy actually did break his ribs a while ago? i think she even visited him when he was recovering so she should know what kind of pain he was in. & if he actually broke her ribs, there's no way she would have even been able to stand bc i know andy sure wasn't able to. he said it was one of the most painful things he's experienced. (i don't think i need to comment on the rest of this. it would just be redundant. you hit the nail on the head with that.)
🤠 I don’t care if it happened just that one time ore more likely is an everyday occurrence. Abuse is abuse and should never be tolerated. Kind of getting away from the plane thing. Andy always seems, as it’s been said on here before, afraid to mess up. Like he might mess up, and make her mad. A common behavioral pattern in abuse victims. He also at this point and for a decent amount of time before, doesn’t seem like he loves her anymore. Like he keeps up appearances and pretends, but it’s like it’s a job he’s forced to do. He’s tired and burnt out but was probably manipulated into staying and juliet is probably clinging for dear life. Also I don’t know if I’m the only one who thinks this, but I swear, the veganism and sobering up was just a cover up, most likely formed by either Juliet herself or her fucked up family, after the plane incident to hide their tracks and regain some public favor (because you know, if you advocate for animal rights then you can’t abuse your husband 🙃) Andy never gave a shit before though. Even though it was unhealthy he loved to drink and smoke and was very outspoken about that. And he used to never give a fuck about eating meat or consuming animal products like leather. I mean they’re still selling leather goods ffs. I would get having minor fuck ups because you don’t know any better, but it’s fucking leather. And now Andy is unhealthy and miserable as ever, but the culprit is malnourishment and Juliet rather than cigs, alcohol, and Juliet. My final thoughts: I do definitely believe in the Scientology theory, but if not that than I definitely believe that Andy was and is being manipulated for his fame. On several occasions it really looked like they broke up, including the time when they did, and then said it was a joke. It really doesn’t feel normal. Also, Juliet doesn’t really care about Andy that much. She never wears her wedding ring, she sells all their shit, including sentimental items, and now that she’s gained more popularity from being with him, suddenly doesn’t want to put him in her bio or write him the same creepy ass paragraphs or anything. It’s fucked up how shes so keen to say she did it all herself when really she’s been riding dick for fame since before she even met Andy. It also always kinda seemed to me that Amy was kind of uncomfortable around Juliet. We all know that Chris loves to kiss her ass night and day (most likely to do with the Scientology thing “if” it’s true), but Juliet and Amy always seemed to have a weird relationship like it was tense and forced. Also I just want to mention the time that Juliet talked about screaming at the woman over what I believe was a game night and brushed it off as being competitive and no one gave damn. Fucked up. To finish off this already way too long little series, I think Andy is a very vulnerable insecure person who got manipulated by several people (not just Juliet) some of whom he probably really trusted, and they helped to get him in Juliet’s (equally if not more insecure) hands so she could hurt him as she pleases. I truly hope that even now both he, and his parents (even though Chris really grinds my gears) can get out of this whole shit show, relatively unscathed. I know this is probably pretty unlikely, but hope springs eternal I guess. As I said feel free to ask any questions you may have and I will try to answer them best I can. Thank you for reading. 4 / 4 -🤠
A/N: yet again you hit the nail on the head with this part so i don't need to comment too much. other than the fact that i do agree that juliet and amy's relationship does seem weird.
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yeochikin · 4 years
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late night talks. | k. hongjoong
a/n: hehe my brain kept going brr every time i tried to finish this so i understand if this was a bit sucky. please excuse any mistakes, and feedbacks are very much appreciated! 🥺✨💖
word count: 3k+
main focus: hongjoong x fem. reader
warning(s): none, really!
“y/n, our life saviour, our queen!” you heard wooyoung’s dramatic wailing as he instantly engulfed you into a hug as soon as you stepped foot into mingi’s apartment, where you and the boys were gathered for a sleepover during the weekend.
with a roll of your eyes, you knew exactly the reason why he was suddenly all clingy. your hands were full of snacks and drinks that they had wanted you to buy on your way to the place for the sleepover, though of course, maybe some extra few snacks for them as well. 
totally not because of you wanting to spoil them, not at all.
“wooyoung, i swear you’re gonna make me drop these snacks all over the place if you don’t let me go.” you whined, your tone laced with feigned annoyance as you spoke. 
being the cheeky boy as always, wooyoung merely gave you one last squeeze in the hug before dragging you further into the apartment where the rest of the boys were as he announced your arrival. 
there in the living room, you watched as jongho and san were sat on the carpeted floor. the two had their eyes glued to the television with their thumbs furiously mashing against the buttons of the controllers in their hands, giggling to yourself as you watched san throwing his head back with eyebrows all furrowed as it seemed like he had lost a match against the other boy before letting out a whine to rematch.
yeosang and mingi were sat on the couch as they watched the two boys with amusement written in their eyes, yeosang occasionally making witty remarks as he watched the gameplay while mingi acted as if he was the spokesperson throughout the game. it was only when wooyoung mentioned that you were there that the boys turned their heads to look at you, immediately greeting you with a huge smile on their faces before mingi stood up to give you a tight hug to which you returned with your free arm, moving the plastic full of snacks so it would be dangling on your arm. 
“woah, you bought a lot of snacks!” yeosang exclaimed, popping up next to you as his eyes were trained on the bags full of the said items, then stretching his hand out so he could help you carry them, which you gladly accepted as soon as you started to feel your hands growing a little tired.
“hongjoong and yunho are in the kitchen with seonghwa!” you heard jongho say, you sending him a grateful smile in response as you let your legs lead you to the kitchen, where the mentioned boys were in, with yeosang already a few steps ahead of you. 
that would explain the delicious smell wafting into your nose as soon as you stepped foot into the small apartment. no doubt the trio were probably cooking up something in the kitchen for tonight’s dinner. 
walking into the kitchen, you instantly saw hongjoong. or rather, almost bumping into the brown haired boy as it looked like he was about to exit the kitchen. with a sheepish smile plastering itself on your faces, you sidestepped to let him pass through but of course he couldn’t read your actions as he mirrored yours, ending up in the same position as before. with a second try, it only led you to the same result with the two of you sharing a sheepish chortle.
by the third attempt, and before you could even move, hongjoong moved his hands to rest themselves on top of your shoulders so you wouldn't budge, promptly turning the both of you around so you were in the kitchen, and hongjoong was right outside. with one last shy smile from the boy, he turned around to join the rest of the boys in the living room, telling the boys to clean up the mess in the living room so they could gather in for dinner later on instead of the small kitchen.
being mingi’s best friend since you were in 4th grade, the two of you were pretty much attached to the hip with how close the both of you were until you started college, due to both being in different classrooms. you were thankful that mingi would still find you whenever the both of you had lunch together, and it was also from there that you were introduced to the new friends mingi had made in his class. though, the first meeting was rather awkward for you, really. 
you see, being a shy person, it was a little difficult for you to mingle around, much less in a loud group. however, that didn't mean you were completely lonely either as you had a few other friends in the other classes you took if mingi was not in any of them. you tend to hear people joke about how mingi was the extroverted friend who adopted an introverted you, which you can't deny. it was kinda true in some way.
after being introduced to mingi’s friends and spending a little more time with them when they invited you out to join them at a pizza place one time, you had learned that they were entertaining to be with, even finding yourself cracking a few jokes here and there, mingi watching you proudly from the side.
yet, as much as you enjoyed the boys’ company, there was still someone who somehow you had a hard time interacting with. dark brown haired boy, the one who would always seem to have his nose buried in his notes with earphones plugged in his ears, lips moving silently as he read through the words he wrote out.
kim hongjoong.
it wasn't because he was giving you a cold shoulder nor was he ever rude to you by all means! rather, he seemed to shy away from you whenever you tried to start a conversation with him. you brought up the topic with mingi one day, a pout on your lips as you wondered if there was anything wrong with you or you said the wrong thing for hongjoong to act that way around you. but your taller friend could only laugh, patting your head reassuringly to say that hongjoong was merely a shy person. 
of course, that was a year ago. 
now, hongjoong has finally started to warm up to you, even to the point of letting you listen to some of his songs before the other boys could, wooyoung whining in a playful manner in the background as you got to be the first person to listen to the former’s piece. it was no surprise he was immersed in his own little world back then due to majoring in music in college. 
“earth to y/n?” you heard a deep voice reaching into your ears, making you snap back into reality, eyes instantly meeting seonghwa’s raised brow. 
it seems that the only people left in the kitchen were seonghwa and you, wondering to yourself how long you had been standing in the middle of the doorway to the point you failed to realise yunho had already left. 
“what’s going on in that head of yours, little one?” you heard him say, never failing to throw in the little nickname he had for you, as he was busily stirring the pot’s contents.
waving it off as nothing, you walked over to his side before rolling up your sleeves in case he needed any help, mouth already watering from the scent of stew filling your senses. as if he could sense your hunger, seonghwa could only chuckle as he gently asked if you could prepare the bowls and plates for all of you, to which you gladly did so. 
it only took you a little more later for you and the boys to finally gather in the living room as all of you shared the events that had happened prior to the sleepover over dinner, giggling to yourself at how the wooyoung and san teased the oldest of the boys, who was playfully threatening to stab them with a fork. but all of you knew he would never as he had a soft spot in his heart for all of his close friends.
after dinner, all of you had cleaned up the living room before changing into your sleeping attires, deciding to play a game of among us before bed. that was when the chaos would start.
you watched the boys with amused eyes as hongjoong and yeosang kept suspecting mingi for being too quiet when in reality he was just doing his tasks. your eyes went wide in disbelief as soon as your character died in the game just as you were about to finish starting up the reactor, lifting your gaze from your phone to silently glare at jongho, not wanting to out him for the sake of fairness of the game, the boy having a proud smirk playing over his lips yet he remained stoic throughout the whole round. 
as soon as yunho reported your body, all hell broke loose. a series of accusations thrown in after another, jongho actively making the others turn against one another, mingi yelling that he kept messing up the swipe card task in admin when seonghwa asked why he had stood there for a long time.
“it’s yunho! he self-reported the body!” wooyoung yelled out, pointing an accusing finger over at yunho, the latter’s eyes widening in surprise at the sudden claim.
“you were with me the whole time, i even scanned in medbay!” he defended.
“oh right, never mind.” 
sadly, the round was skipped as jongho ‘claimed’ it was far too early in the game to vote someone off just yet, much to your dismay. 
in the end, jongho had won the game, him cheering as he threw his arms up in the arm. yunho pouting playfully as he sulked, saying he had the last task until yeosang died in the game. you could only offer him a light pat on his shoulder.
“it’s okay, at least you didn’t die a minute into the game.” you say, earning a round of chortles from the boys. 
“another round in a different map this time?” hongjoong asked, which all of you agreed without a word.
needless to say, the remaining few hours before sleep were spent playing the game where trust amongst yourselves was nowhere to be seen along with shared laughs at how each of you kept accusing the wrong person. without your knowledge, you fail to realise a pair of eyes that had kept glancing your way throughout the whole game. 
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
you woke up with a start, body immediately sitting up on the couch you were currently situated on as you felt your breathing growing all ragged, eyes frantically looking around the place as if you were afraid that you would still be stuck in the horrific dimension you dreamt of earlier prior to waking up. 
to your relief, your eyes were not met with the spiraling dark abyss of your dream didn’t apply to the waking world. only, the familiar decoration of mingi’s apartment was what your pupils had set on. looking off to your side, you saw how the other boys were already peacefully asleep, most likely all tuckered out from the games all of you and the boys played earlier.
san was tightly hugging an extra pillow close to his chest next to wooyoung and yunho, the latter slept on his back peacefully as light snores left his lips. at first, you couldn’t really tell who was the one all curled up underneath the blanket right next to jongho, but with the tufts of blonde locks peeking out underneath, you could tell it was yeosang. on his left, was mingi who slept with his mouth slightly ajar, his leg was placed over yeosang’s lower half while seonghwa took space of the more larger couch than the one you were on. but one of the boys were missing, and that would be hongjoong.
judging by the sliver of light that had peeked out from the door near the hallway, which was the bathroom as you recalled mingi had pointed out earlier when you arrived at the apartment when you needed to use, you had made the conclusion that hongjoong had gotten up earlier than you to use the bathroom. 
checking the time on your phone, you realised that you had woken up in the little hours of dawn. despite still feeling the heaviness of sleep weighing on your eyes, you were still a tad shaken up from the dream you had earlier. the image was still fresh in your mind every time you close your eyes. it was then you decided to make your way to the balcony to clear your mind, tiptoeing carefully as to not wake the other boys up, or accidentally stepped on them. 
as soon as you stepped foot on the balcony, quickly shutting the sliding glass door behind you, you were met with the shining light from the moon, the cool night breeze gently caressing your skin to leave goosebumps in its wake. a contented breath was heaved out of your lips once you leaned against the railing, the cool metal pressed against your arms yet you paid no mind to it while your gaze was plastered on the stars shining around the moon. 
“don’t lean too much or you’ll fall.” 
you jumped ever so slightly at the sudden voice, immediately tearing your eyes away from the sky to the figure making themselves present next to you, mimicking your position against the railing. a low breath left your lips as a hand rested itself on your chest, calming your heart. 
“you scared me, joong.” you replied, only to receive a quiet chortle from the male next to you. judging by the slight rasp in his voice, you figured that he had just woken up just before you did. 
“can’t sleep?” he asked, leaning against the railing as his head tilted to the side in question.
a little smile made its way over your lips before turning your gaze back to the sky’s canvas once again, giving hongjoong a brief opportunity at how the moon’s light shone against your features. from the curve of your cheekbones, to your eyes that could rival against the stars with how they seemed to glint with unspoken emotions in them. 
“a bad dream, rather.” you answered, the dark brown haired boy nodded understandingly. 
“would you want to talk about it?” he offered, moving a bit closer next to you, the both of you now standing side by side underneath the moonlight. 
with the sight of you growing a bit hesitant followed by a shake of your head, hongjoong could feel a slight twinge in his chest. not because of how you rejected his offer, but rather the slight fear in your features washing over for a split second before it was replaced with a smile on your lips made you look vulnerable. reaching a hand out, he gave your head a gentle stroke, murmuring how it was alright if you didn’t want to do so.
you, on the other hand, felt your body freeze at the touch before relaxing into his touch, somehow finding comfort. the action was small, yet it managed to give you quite an impact as you find yourself leaning against his touch. 
“we can talk about anything you want to keep your mind off of it until you are ready to go back to sleep, we can even stand in silence, and i’ll be okay with that.” you heard him say, his tone laced with a welcoming warmth that sent your mind at ease. 
and with that, you agreed. the two of you stood in the balcony staring up at the moon while talking about whatever had crossed your minds that ranged from what your favourite colours were to what had made you decide to choose the courses you were currently majoring in. 
it was a rare moment between the two of you to be able to talk so openly like this, and if you were being honest, the you back then would probably be in disbelief to know that hongjoong and you could actually talk about any topics that came to mind without the tense atmosphere, or rather, not anymore. but you weren’t complaining, you are pretty much thankful that the two of you finally started to open up more with each other. 
“joong, do you remember when we first met?” you asked, slightly surprised to see him already looking over at you once you turned to look at him. 
with a hum, hongjoong turned around so his back was rested against the railing, arms folded in front of his chest as his lips pursed in thought.
“we met when mingi invited us to lunch on his first day of college, no?” you couldn’t help but to smile at yourself, he remembered.
“well.. remember when we were so awkward with each other?” you added, hongjoong emitting a low chortle at the memory, slightly cringing at the same time as well. 
“i thought you hated me on our first meeting with how quiet you were.” you said, the male’s eyes widened at your sudden confession, quickly reassuring you that was not the case. 
“it’s more like, i didn’t know how to interact with you.” he answered after a brief moment, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. 
your head tilted ever so slightly to the side in question, patiently waiting for him to continue whatever he had meant by that. though it would be a lie to say a rush of thoughts made its way through your mind from all the possibilities of what he had thought about you when the two of you first met each other. 
“though, i am not at all saying i saw you in a negative way or anything like that!” he defended after seeing the conflicted expression painting over your face, the two of you now staring into each other’s eyes, your own widening in surprise. 
“something about you somehow made me feel a little nervous to the point i didn’t know how to act around you, as ridiculous as it sounds.” hongjoong added, feeling the tips of his ears grow warm, purposely avoiding your gaze on his face by staring down at the dimly lit streets below.
silence made itself present between the two of you, and hongjoong swore that he could almost hear your eyebrows furrowing out of confusion, clearly not understanding by what he had meant by that. 
“and.. why is that, if i may ask?” he heard you say, confusion evident in your tone as you spoke.
now gathering enough courage to look at you, the brown haired male reached a hand out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the corners of his lips twitching up into a gentle smile as the hand that tucked your hair rested itself atop of your head. 
“you intrigue me, one way or another, y/n l/n.” he said, the simper on his lips growing wider upon catching the slight pinkish hue itself blooming itself over your cheeks. 
“mingi was right, you do get flustered easily.” he teased, a clear attempt to lighten the atmosphere, causing you to sputter out gibberish words in response along with a light slap against his shoulder. 
“and hit hard.” he groaned, rubbing a hand on the spot where you hit.
“that’s for making me think that you hated me or something back then, you dummy.” you merely replied with a shrug, a cheeky smirk curving your lips at the way hongjoong stared at you after letting out a scoff. 
the both of you stared at each other in silence for a few more seconds before bursting into a fit of giggles, hongjoong playfully nudging his shoulder against your own while you retaliated with a nudge of your hip against his. the two of you spent a little while longer in the balcony than you intended just talking underneath the moonlight until you could feel the sleepiness starting to become apparent after feeling how heavy your eyelids were getting. 
this, did not go unnoticed by the other. 
“head on in and get some sleep, okay? i heard mingi’s planning to bring us to the new cafe in town down the street.” you heard him say as you stifled a yawn behind your closed fist with a nod of your head. 
“what about you?” you asked, pushing yourself off of the railing.
“i’ll stay here for a bit, i’ll go in soon, i promise.”
with that, you could only nod your head in reply as you made your back inside, not before bidding the brown haired male a gentle ‘goodnight’, to which he returned with a wave of his hand. once he was sure you were inside and the sliding glass door was shut behind you, hongjoong switched his gaze back up to the sky as he heaved out a low sigh out of content.
“you really do intrigue me, muse.” 
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samanthadalton · 3 years
Text
Personality traits for Chloe st James (ABCs)
this is a (late) birthday present for @alleycat97 bc i know how much she loves Chloe. It was definitely fun writing for her character and coming up with traits for her 
taglist: @alleycat97 @cloud9in @fundamentalromantic (sometimes my tags don’t work on my laptop, im not sure why) 
NSFW on some parts but I marked the parts 
A- Attentive 
Being around someone like Poppy means that Chloe is extremely attentive to the small details. She’s always picking up on the little signals and constantly makes sure you’re okay. She’ll literally show up to your dorm at 3am if your texts seem “off” to her and she’s worried you’re sad. 
NSFW- Chloe is very attentive to your pleasure during sex and loves kissing/biting your neck or chest to heighten your pleasure. 
B- Bottom
NSFW- Chloe is definitely a bottom but she’s not a pillow princess. She once got super offended that you called her one and wanted to show you she’s not the type to lie down and take it. Even though she lets you take the reins, she’s super bratty and loves verbally teasing you to turn you on more. 
C- Candidness 
You can always count on Chloe to tell the truth because she has no filter and will say whatever is on her mind. You find it both endearing but annoying sometimes because her lack of filter means she does say a lot of things that may seem rude but you know she means well. 
D- Daredevil 
NFSW- Chloe is definitely too kinky for her own good and is always down to try something new during sex, even though she always lets you take the lead. She’ll gingerly ask you if you want to do whatever new thing she’s found online and show you a bunch of videos on how to do it. 
E- Experience
NSFW- This surprised you but Chloe doesn’t have a lot of experience in the bedroom. When it comes to sex, she feels more comfortable around people she can trust, but her past partners never gave her any security so she never really knew how much of it worked until you. But now she’s breaking out of her shell more and becoming more forward with her likes and dislikes. 
F- Favourite position
NSFW- Chloe’s favourite position is seeing you between her legs, as you pleasure her. She loves eye contact and practically falls apart when your eyes meet as you eat her out. She also loves laying down on the couch with you on top of her, kissing and cuddling her because she feels the safest in your arms. 
G- Goofiness
The more you get to know Chloe, the more goofy you realise she is. She loves acting silly and stupid on purpose just to make you laugh and isn’t afraid to scream to the top of her lungs in public which evokes weird stares from random passerbys but always seems to make you laugh. 
H- Horniness
NSFW- Chloe is the epitome of horniness and loves teasing you which ends up with you dragging her to your bedroom or just doing it right on the sofa. She loves wearing outfits which are purposely revealing, and will try and seduce you by ‘accidentally’ dropping a pen and then bending over to pick it up, showing off her ass in the process. 
I- Impulsive
Chloe tends to be pretty impulsive, acting on her own whim because she either forgets she has anything planned and does something else or she’s sick of living in a controlled environment and just likes to be spontaneous. Her impulsive decisions once led you to a three day weekend in Vegas because she just wanted to play poker (even though she doesn’t know how to play). 
J- Jealousy
Chloe gets jealous really easily, which is something she isn’t proud of but you know it’s only because she loves you so much. Whenever girls get too friendly with you, she’ll loop your arm with hers, pulling you close to your side, before giving a massive show of PDA. Usually nights where Chloe gets jealous ends in quickies in the bathroom, or just leaving the event early just so you can hook up and you can remember that you are hers, 
K- Kinks
NSFW- One of Chloe’s biggest kinks is feet. There’s something unexplainable about it but her biggest turn on is feet. She loves kissing your feet or sucking on your toes because it gets her in the mood. The first time she tried it with you, she was nervous because she wasn’t sure how you would react, but she was glad when you were receptive and enjoyed it. 
L- Lazy 
Chloe loves her lazy days where she can do nothing whatsoever. Because she’s so used to everything being done for her, she usually acts like a queen and will expect you to treat her one, which includes cooking and cleaning.
M- Masturbation
NSFW- Chloe wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of masturbation at first as a result of her inexperience but after investing in a vibrator, she definitely feels better about masturbating as a whole, though she prefers sex. 
N- Narcissism
Chloe is hugely confident about herself, which can be seen as borderline narcissistic but that’s only because she knows she looks good. Back in high school, she was the prom queen and was voted most likely to stay hot (which she was extremely happy about). Chloe does care about looks a lot but that’s only because she was insecure as a child and had to overcome a lot of those insecurities. She’s working on becoming less vain which is working because she complimented Taylor the other day and said she looked good. 
O- Opinionated 
Chloe has a lot of opinions about everything and will let them be known, even if she doesn’t have all the facts. She has a guilty pleasure of reality tv shows and will always explain to you what is going on and who is the worst and who she loves. 
P- Picky
Chloe is a very picky eater and is the type to order chicken tenders and fries or salad from a restaurant when the menu isn’t appealing to her. You’ve been working on expanding her appetite. She definitely has expensive tastes and likes the most bizarre food which makes you wonder why she’s such a picky eater. For example she loves caviar but refuses to eat scallops. 
Q- Quickies
NSFW- Though she prefers sex being sensual and passionate, she does love a good quickie and will be down for one. During parties she’ll drag you to an empty bedroom rather than a bathroom because she’s unsure of what she’ll catch. 
R- Reliable
Chloe is extremely reliant and you can depend on her whenever you need something. Because she’s number 2 at Belvoire she knows how to get things done (even if she has to use other people for it). She’s really good at delegating and is someone you can trust with your secrets. 
S- Scared
Chloe gets scared really easily and hates watching horror movies unless you’re there to cuddle with her. Once when you took her to one of those haunted houses, she fainted because a monster crept up on her and she screamed so much, she ended up knocking herself out. 
T- Toys
NSFW- Chloe doesn’t have any toys but she does have a pair of handcuffs and loves using vibrators during sex. Usually during sex, you’ll put her underwear in her mouth to quieten her or use of her expensive scarfs to tie her hands up. 
U- Useless
Chloe has a lot of insecurities and one includes her not feeling worthy or useful. You often have to reassure her that she is an amazing human being and show her how incredible she is. She’s always so appreciative of your efforts to make her feel better and with you around, she feels like she’s done something right. You’ve been encouraging her to pursue a career in dance, because she absolutely lights up when she’s choreographing a new dance routine for the Zeta’s and you know she’ll do an amazing job. 
V- Volume 
NSFW- Chloe is very loud during sex and will let every sound out. Zoey has complained once or twice (or a lot of times) about the noise but Chloe can’t help it and the moans she makes are like music to your ears. 
W- Wild
Chloe does have a crazy side and after a few drinks, all of her morals, self preservation, self control are almost gone and she’ll let loose. She once flashed a bouncer to let her into the VIP section of the club (which worked) and if you dare her to do almost anything while drunk, she’ll do it without a second thought. 
X- X-ray 
NSFW- Chloe doesn’t have the biggest boobs but they definitely are very perky. She’s slim because dancing helps her to keep fit and can do a split (which drives you a little crazy) and both front and back flips. She’s about 5’9 and she definitely prefers having medium sized hair compared to long. 
Y- Yearning
Wherever you go back home for the holidays, Chloe is always missing you because she’s accustomed to having you by her side. She’ll constantly text/facetime with you to make sure you’re okay but also because she’s missing you like crazy. 
Z- Zodiac
Chloe is super into astrology and you guys play a little game where you’ll watch random strangers and try and guess their signs. She’s always sending you daily horoscopes in regards to your sign and always sends you compatibility posts about your signs. 
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orsuliya · 3 years
Text
Song Huaien is a good boy!
Book spoilers did me dirty. That’s a fact. Ever since I peeked at the last chapters of the novel, I’ve been convinced that Song Huaien was going to go rogue sooner or later. And so I looked upon him as one does upon a ticking bomb, watching him closely for any signs of rot and obvious mwahahahaing.
And that… might have been wrong of me. It’s not like The Rebel Princess ever treated any character’s novel journey as sacrosanct (see: Su Jin’er, Wanru, even Zitan). So what gives? Well, just look at the ever-precious Liu Duanduan. Wouldn’t you want to steel your heart in advance…?
And then the supremely astute @dangermousie came along and made me reconsider what could be done in the scant remaining number of episodes in order to deliver a satisfying ending. I trust The Rebel Princess, so it will be a satisfying ending, 12 cut episodes notwithstanding, and I’m choosing to ignore any contrary opinions! So what could be done? Well, getting rid of Song Huaien’s rebellion and conflict with Xiao Qi seems to be one of the most viable solutions, whether by design or by leaving it on the cutting-room floor. Okay, I’m sold, I thought at once, jumping without thinking as I’m wont to do. But does the drama itself support that?
Why, yes, I believe it does!
What are the actual visible signs of Song Huaien’s potential villainy? There’s the corruption/negligence thing, a pronounced liking for finer things in life and an unrequited love for Awu. That’s it.
The corruption scandal, if it can even be called such, what with Potato suppressing any further investigation attempts, is the biggest strike against Song Huaien. It’s clear that he’s somehow embroiled into unsavoury dealings, but the extent of his guilt is never shown. While I don’t fully believe his story about the birthday gifts being delivered during his absence and accepted without his express permission and/or knowledge, there is also nothing to suggest he’s been explicitly on Xie payroll, secret documents non-withstanding. The record book alone is no proof of guilt – why, the Xie might have simply noted that gifts of certain value had been given and received, not in exchange for a specific service, but rather as a start of a beautiful relationship. You get the drill. I believe if there was a solid proof of Song Huaien doing explicit harm to his own in exchange for Xie money, Xiao Qi’s reaction would have been much harsher.
As it stands, Song Huaien’s guilt is a matter of conjecture. There’s the birthday gift, which Xiao Qi cottons onto really quickly, which confirms that it may have been noted in the Xie secret books. There’s the fact that he may or may not have known about it and may or may not have chosen to keep it. I’d say he did know, if only after the fact, and that he originally meant to keep it. There’s also the damning fact that Song Huaien was the man taking care of logistics from the Ningshuo side. And he did his job really poorly, since multiple deliveries of substandard grain and clothing somehow made it through. But was it out of maliciousness? Was there ever a conscious decision on his part to let things slip? Not necessarily. It looks bad, sure. But let’s not forget that dealing with the capital sharks may be a first for Song Huaien, regardless of his previous experience as a procurement officer. Whatever his experience, it was either at the very end of the supply chain or it was mainly related to supplies coming from the area closest to Ningshuo. The former wouldn’t have prepared him for his present duties. And as for the latter, I think that the Ningshuo province has its own rules and ways, which are in no way comparable to the shark pond that the capital undoubtedly is. What’s more, Huaien really seems to buy into the illustrious capital life; it would not surprise me if he delegated a few things that should not be delegated simply because he was busy taking it all in!
So, intentional crime or crime of negligence? I’d be inclined to vote for negligence. It just fits what we know about Song Huaien up to that point, it fits his current circumstances and it makes Xiao Qi’s reaction quite reasonable.
The second strike against Huaien’s integrity is his love for the finer things in life. But then, is it really such a damning thing? Many of the Ningshuo soldiers must have experienced the same thing upon their arrival into the capital. Here they are, heroes and patriots all, having spent their whole life either on various battlefields or in decidedly non-luxurious circumstances. Why, they must be quite happy if they get enough to eat, which they do only because they have an honest general who cares about them very much. Other armies are not as lucky! And then they are shown all those useless noble scions, some of whom might nominally be officers despite barely knowing how to hold a sword (and even those swords would be ceremonial ones, so mostly useless). I don’t know about you, but I’d be bitter. Some of Xiao Qi’s closest clearly are, although he tends to shut that down very quickly. Also, covetousness is not a crime as long as Song Huaien is not actively taking bribes or jockeying for profit. And there is no proof of that. His manor and his title are both given to him without him ever asking for them. If he appreciates that… well, that is also not a crime and he doesn’t even gloat openly! As it later turns out, he took both as his due, believing that his talents were seen and duly appreciated outside the Ningshuo army.
Sooo… Nothing out of ordinary on that count. And seeing that at one point Song Huaien offers to use his savings to repair the ailing military budget – whether from guilt or from sense of duty – speaks to his advantage.
Now, let’s take a look at his unrequited love for Awu. I mean, is it any wonder he falls for her? I am half in love with her myself, so I totally get it! What matters is what he does with this love. Quite surprisingly, there is no attempt at coming between her and Xiao Qi. Why, Song Huaien actively tries to help their marriage by convincing Awu to return home from the temple. No hesitation there! And while he might realize he’s actually in love very late in the story (by this point it’s obvious to everybody), the realization itself changes very little. He gets very determined to go through with marrying Yuxiu, that’s it. Still no attempts to make a move on Awu. Even that flower he brought back from the Imperial Mausoleum was not an overly romantic gesture – she asked and he did as she asked in order to make her happy, nothing more. There’s also a genuine attempt to get over her. He goes to Yuxiu on their wedding night and despite the initial haziness on the matter, he seems to know quite well she’s not Awu and does his best. Although that bro slap in the morning… Let’s believe he did his best there too, the poor awkward thing. He gives her an actual hug when he comes back from Jiangnan! Progress!
What finally buried the theory that Song Huaien might rebel in order to take Awu away from Xiao Qi was his convo with Wang Su in episode 55. I was so afraid (just as I was afraid on his wedding night) that he might do something stupid. Like asking for Awu’s hand or betraying his romantic intentions towards her. But no. While Song Huaien tells Wang Su that he wants/needs to find Awu, there’s no romantic intent there, only duty towards Xiao Qi’s wife and respect towards a woman who has earned it many times over. If there is anything else, I just can’t see it! Why, during this whole conversation Song Huaien is more broken up about Xiao Qi than about Awu!
Whether Song Huaien manages to get over his love or not, there is no sign he was ever going to do anything about it, not while Xiao Qi lived and perhaps not even now that he’s supposed to be dead. Moreover, he made every possible effort to suppress his emotions out of sheer guilt and feeling of brotherhood towards Xiao Qi. Marrying Yuxiu might have been a bad, bad choice (although I still hope for the best), but it was a choice made for the best of reasons.
So that’s it, right? Well, wrong. Even with all of the above there was still a possibility for him to go the villain route. Except… he actually seems to be redeeming himself in leaps and bounds. Once away from the capital, Song Huaien seems to throw off the capital’s thrall and becomes the best version of himself. Jumping into stormy waters in clear disregard of any danger? Working tirelessly towards a common goal and for the good of the people? That’s pure Ningshuo stock, no moral rot in sight! Now, why would the narrative have him getting back to his old self only to make him regress again?
There’s also no real reason for him to ever go against Xiao Qi. If that was going to happen, I’d have expected at least some signs of bitterness and jealousy to have shown up by now. And yet there’s nothing, at least not towards Xiao Qi. Who, might I add, really does his best to mitigate any potential bitterness in the bud. Just look at the way they resolve the corruption scandal! And I’m not talking about Xiao Qi burning (or not burning?) the incriminating page. What got my attention is what their conversations over the matter boil to. Which is: Listen, brother, I get that you’ve been having some issues, but get your shit together. And please, take care of yourself. I don’t want you to get in trouble, so please remember that there are people watching your every step. No overt accusations, no anger in sight, maybe the slightest bit of sternness, but heavily undercut with roughly expressed care. And it’s the same with their confrontation over Awu. I know what’s going on with you and my wife, but I 100% get it, mate, so take a moment and decide how to proceed from here. Even if Song Huaien was actively seeking a reason to hold a grudge, it would take a truly rotten seed to find one. And a rotten seed Song Huaien is not.
Now, let’s wrap it up by going over Wang Su’s suborning of Song Huaien in episode 55. It’s really something special, as well as the main reason I’m choosing to reject any possibility of SHE/XQ showdown.
Wang Su waylays Song Huaien on his way out of camp. Song Huaien is clearly very emotional at this moment and not really inclined to stop for anybody. Why, I think that he was fully prepared to go through Wang Su if needed. It is also quite probable that his decision to leave for the capital was made on the spot, once he heard about what happened to Xiao Qi, Awu and his comrades. Yet he stops and listens, if only because Wang Su – Awu’s brother and Xiao Qi’s brother-in-law - should be his natural ally in his quest to clear Xiao Qi’s name. As he proclaims to be by announcing his willingness to join Song Huaien on his journey to the capital.
Wang Su (or rather Daddy Wang possessing Wang Su’s body) takes full advantage of Song Huaien’s state. First he breaks out a prop, Awu’s favourite wine. It does not work as well as it could have and I’d say that at this point Song Huaien remains quite astute as to Wang Su’s weird behaviour. His first outburst shows he’s got little patience for games. Awu is your sister and Xiao Qi your brother in law, he reminds Wang Su, who seems very controlled for a man with much more obvious ties to this whole situation than Song Huaien. Wang Su skips around the issue by taking out his ace card, the Empress Dowager’s order. Predictably, it takes Song Huaien off-balance and incites a sense of debt, if not gratitude. An excellent opening from the shapeshifting Daddy Wang! Then Wang Su makes an attempt at aiming Song Huaien at the Empress Dowager… and it doesn’t work. Song Huaien doesn’t care about his own life half as much as he cares about Xiao Qi. Cue a mournful soliloquy! There is no way a man this broken about his brother’s death is going to try to kill said brother in the 13 episodes remaining (less, in fact, since they will not meet until 59 or 60 at the earliest). There would be no build-up! The only way I can see this happening is if Xiao Qi went against Song Huaien first and in a deeply personal way. Which we know he would never, so...
Wang Su makes a brave attempt at corralling Song Huaien’s grief and turning it to anger, for all that he may say that anger will not help anyone; it doesn’t work and self-blame enters the picture. If only I was with him leads to a startling realization: all those honors and the brand new posting were just a ploy. Now, this realization could lead to two different results. Song Huaien could plausibly become bitter towards Xiao Qi –  because of whose very existence his own talents weren’t truly recognized and he himself became a pawn. But there’s nothing to suggest that’s true. It’s more likely for Song Huaien to turn his bitterness over his wounded pride towards the Empress Dowager in particular and scheming nobles in general. Which is what I think he does. There is also a possibility of guilt: he bought into this whole noble life fairytale… and this is what partially facilitated him being turned into a pawn. It may be just wishful thinking, but I expect that in the future Song Huaien will be more wary of unexpected meat pies falling from the sky, however tasty they may be.
Just a moment later Wang Su offers him a meat pie. He’s going to help him take revenge! And Song Huaien swallows it whole – at least for now. This is where a truly interesting thing happens. Song Huaien, a general in his own right, a true hero and a man who’s been acting as Wang Su’s equal while in Jiangnan… folds and takes to a subordinate position like a duck to the water. Tell me what to do, he seems to be screaming with his eyes. And when Wang Su starts to use the word we, there’s a palpable sense of relief in Song Huaien’s whole demeanor. What’s more, he’s not reacting to the idea that he still needs to jump through some hoops in order to become a Wang minion. I’m not sure you’re ready to become my ally, lies Wang Su, knowing very well Song Huaien’s is already in his palm. Where’s the ambition? Where’s the slightest sign that this man may be capable of going for the throne for his own sake and against his brother? I don’t see it!
The Wang family is used to needing to pay their allies in hard coin (or titles, or favours), that much is clear, because that’s what Wang Su tries next. The title of a count is too lowly, he says and then dangles a princely one in front of his victim. If Song Huaien was really as hungry for honours and wealth as some of us were expecting him to be, he’d be all over that. But he’s not. He gives it due consideration, but, if anything, this proposition seems to bring him back to reality. There are no free meat pies to be had and he’s just remembered that. But since this is the best – and likely the only – proposition/offer of help he’s going to get, he seals the deal anyway.
There’s still some reluctance, though. Why, Song Huaien needs to rationalize this decision by reminding himself that Wang Su saved his life and that there’s revenge to be taken since he’s alive (as Xiao Qi is not). Not very eager to take part in a coup, is he? And then he actually makes getting justice for Xiao Qi a condition of this alliance! Finding Awu is the second one, but as I’ve already said, there seems to be no romantic intentions there.
And that’s it, the deal is done. So now, can anybody tell me how is this Song Huaien supposed to go against Xiao Qi? He’s more likely to go for a hug once he sees him alive!
There is no reasonable way to leave in Song Huaien’s conflict with Xiao Qi. There’s just no time and no real build-up to that! The only way to have him go rogue is to have a timeskip with Song Huaien doing a 180 in the meantime. And somehow I just can’t see it happening. But I guess we’ll have to see about that!
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spectralscathath · 3 years
Text
Fria's Day Out- RWBY drabble
Ruby spent all of volume 6 trekking across Mistral and nearly getting killed due to the stupid Relic of Knowledge, and now General Ironwood's trying to give it back to her? When there's a perfectly good Vault there?
Absolutely not.
(AKA this was not your best plan ever, Jimmy)
Ao3 link
"You're giving the lamp back to us?" Ruby asked, brows furrowing in confusion as James held out the relic. He thought it was a good idea, at least until the vault could be safely opened.
"Who better to safeguard it than the people who already protected it?"
Ruby reached out, hand resting on the relic, before she shoved it hard against his chest, looking aghast as she darted back like it had burned her.
"Are you crazy? That thing's a Grimm magnet, we nearly died, like-" she paused to count on her fingers, "three times?" She glanced at her teenage friends for clarification. "Three, was it three?"
"Manticores on the train, Apathy at the farms, Leviathan at Argus." Weiss rattled off, ignoring Winter's horrified gasp.
"And you want us to keep carrying it? We came here to throw it in the Vault in the first place!" Ruby stared at him like he was an idiot, and right now he was able to somewhat understand her reasoning.
Still, he pulled up some bluster. "Well, Fria's bedbound, so the Vault can't be opened right now. She's in no state for it."
"I mean- this is Atlas, right? Do you have hoverbeds? Wheels? You guys have invented the wheel, right? Just push her along, it can't be that dangerous."
"Well-" James started before Winter cut in.
"Actually, sir, it might be good for her to get out and about." Winter noted, face completely impassive as he beheld her treachery.
"She'd be remaining in the military base as well, Mr Ironwood!" Penny chirped cheerfully, oblivious to how he was beset on all sides by treason. "And we could set up a guard!"
"See?" Ruby squeaked determinedly. "I vote we throw that lamp from heck into the Vault and never look back!"
"We can't just wheel Fria to the vault," James rolled his eyes. "That's preposterous."
James pushed Fria's bed along, one of the wheels clicking on every rotation like a shopping trolley. "This is undignified."
"Oh, I'm having a great time, pet," Fria chuckled, a Barstucks takeaway cup held in her shaking hand. The concoction inside was some awful pink monstrosity that looked incredibly malevolent. "You ignore him, Winter, my son's just taking himself too seriously again."
"Mom, please." James groaned as Winter laughed, no restriction on the bell-like sound. Fria really brought down her guard.
"I can't believe you've got a mom, Mr Ironwood." Ruby skipped alongside them, holding the relic like it was about to jump up and bite her. James didn't know which of his scientists gave her the tongs but he was going to have a word with his R&D about loaning equipment for frivolous purposes. "I always thought you were raised by a pack of soldiers."
"You should have seen him at your age, he was a hellion," Fria gossiped with her, Winter's eyes sparkling as she hid her smile with a sip of coffee. "Running around Mantle and constantly getting into trouble, I think some of your old graffiti is still down there."
"Graffiti?" Ruby's eyes lit up with mischief. "But he's so serious!"
"I'm standing right here."
"Is that what he does now, walks around all serious?" Fria cackled. "Dear me, James, you haven't gotten boring, have you?"
"I'm afraid he has," Winter jumped in before he could defend himself, her tone dour and her twinkling eyes anything but. "It's quite a shame, from your stories he sounds like quite a rabble rouser."
"Oh he was!" Fria snorted gracelessly. "I could tell you stories- have I told you stories? I can't quite remember-" she frowned, James's gut twisting as the damnable memory loss wiped some of her spark.
"You have, Fria," Winter reached down and took Fria's hand, black gloves gentle as she clasped wizened fingers. "But I'd be happy to hear them again, if you like."
"Aren't you good?" Fria smiled again. "And you, Ruby, I swear, you Huntresses get younger every year."
"Oh, well, I'm just a prodigy," Ruby preened like a peacock under the praise. "I got into Beacon two years early."
"Really? My, that's impressive. Did the old man let you in himself?"
"Ozpin?" Guilt flashed over Ruby's face. James decided she should never play poker. "Uh- yeah, um, he did. It was cool."
"How is that old coot anyway? Still talking in riddles?" Fria asked as Ruby grew more and more uncomfortable, James keeping half an ear on the conversation as they reached the lift down to the Vault. He wheeled Fria onto the platform, shivering slightly at the chill in the air. The cold always gnawed at him even with extra coats on.
Ruby's babble broke off as the platform under their feet moved, bringing them down the passage before it opened into the cavern in the heart of Atlas, Ruby's eyes going wide with childlike wonder. "Wow…"
James felt a bit of pride at that. Atlas's Vault was very nice indeed. The geometric blocks floated in the air around them, icy blue flames flickering in torches as they descended towards the platform, a cavernous drop awaiting below. "Impressive, isn't it?"
"Yeah!" Ruby looked around, awestruck. "I never saw the one in Haven, Yang did- and she doesn't like talking about it aside from saying it was weird and there was a tree and a desert, but this is amazing! How are those blocks floating? Why is the fire blue?"
James opened his mouth to answer before realising he didn't have one, jaw clicking shut as he was left to shrug. "Dust?"
"Oh, not magic?" Ruby pouted for a moment before something shiny caught her attention. "That door is huge! What's it like inside, Yang said the Haven one led to a desert, how cool is that?"
"I don't know. I've never seen inside." He couldn't help be curious as well. "The Atlas vault hasn't been opened since Ozpin lifted the city into the sky, in a past life. It was before my time."
"I remember, I think." Fria piped up. "I was only a girl, but a floating city is rather spectacular."
"I can imagine." Winter mused. "Fria, would you like me to hold your Very Berry Hibiscus Coconut Milk Refresher with Extra Whip?" She said it with a straight face, because she was a stronger person than James could ever hope to be.
"Oh, yes, thank you. It's very nice," Fria handed it over, a quaver in her hands.
James raised a brow. "You need to hold her coffee?"
"Well, you'll have to help her up to the Vault, sir." Winter stated like it was obvious.
"Huh?"
"James, pet, did you think you were going to roll me up the stairs?" Fria laughed, tiredness beginning to steal across her eyes. They didn't have much time left before the excitement of the day turned to fatigue.
"What stairs, there's no stairs- oh my gosh there's stairs now!" Ruby squeaked excitedly as the staircase formed, practically bouncing in place. James sincerely hoped the relic clasped in her tongs didn't go flying. It would be such a hassle to get it back if she dropped it off the edge.
James hesitated. "Mom, are you sure?"
"I can't walk well, but if I'm going to open a Vault for the first time, I'd like to get up there myself." Fria stated with that rock-solid determination he'd seen a million times, dark blue eyes steady and firm, and that was that.
"Alright." He carefully, carefully helped her out of the hospital bed, struck by how small and frail she was now. He supported her with an arm under her shoulders, and wondered if she'd let him get away with carrying her up.
Fria's eyes glowed brilliant blue, azure flames springing to life for a moment as she formed a walking stick from thin air, gnarled wood and ice crystals melding together to perfectly fit her hand and height.
Seeing her perform magic never got old.
Fria rested some of her weight on the stick, most of her weight on James, her legs shaking as she set her jaw and started hobbling towards the Vault with him.
"Mom, are you sure?" He didn't want her to hurt herself.
"James, I'm feeble, not dead." She informed him briskly.
"Uh- if you want I can scatter you guys up?" Ruby offered, having gingerly shifted the relic into her actual hand, holding it at arm's length. "It's fun, like being in a tornado. And it'll be quicker?"
"I'm not sure about that-" James started, remembering the tournament footage of Ruby's semblance before Fria nodded eagerly.
"Well that sounds exciting, scatter away, dearie!"
"Mom, please-!" James suddenly found himself caught up in a swirl of red, shooting forward like a bullet from a gun and broken apart into pieces (he felt like it should have hurt but it didn't), before suddenly he was on his feet again, too fast for him to comprehend as rose petals floated in the air around him and Ruby collapsed to her knees.
"Wow, you are heavy, Mr Ironwood, what are you made of, metal?" She leaned against the golden metal of the Vault door. "Whoo- okay, I'm never picking you up again, no offence."
He dearly wanted to tell her the answer to her question was 'yes' and refrained, instead checking on Fria. "Mom, are you alright?"
She laughed, her hair a mess and her eyes bright. "That was fun!"
He sighed in relief. "I really think we should get this done sooner rather than later. I'm glad you're okay." She was in a very good state today, they'd waited for that, but he didn't know how long it would last. How long until she forgot where she was and who she was and who he was.
Fria nodded, leaning most of her weight against his side as her eyes blazed with fire, her hand shaking as she touched it to the Vault. The sharp lines of the overlapping rectangles began to glow pale white, the light racing up to the top of the door. The golden facets of the door began to drop, and a wave of roaring heat washed out over the three of them, bringing with it the smell of sulphur and brimstone.
Ruby coughed and covered her face, her nose already turning red. “For a Vault of Creation, I was expecting something- I dunno, more cheerful?”
Cheerful was not how he would describe the cavern within, thick streams of magma dripping from the walls and pooling around a slender path of rock that led to a pedestal, heatwaves shimmering in the very air. It was like the inside of a volcano, maybe it was one, and there above the pedestal, the relic of creation floated, a pearlescent white gem that had been sculpted into the handle of a paintbrush, golden filigree elaborately ensconcing the jewel as snow white threads formed the brush.
“Ruby, place the lamp in there and we’ll close it up.” He ordered, sweat forming on his brow.
“Right!” She ran in, careful to avoid the edges where molten rock bubbled hungrily, setting the lamp down in front of the pedestal and scattering out, her petals catching fire from the sheer heat in the air. James waited for her to pass them by, scooping up Fria as he walked down the stairs, eager to get away from the heat at his back.
“Are you okay?” He asked as he carried his mother back to the hospital bed, holding off on any feelings of joy at a task completed. Until the Vault door closed and Fria was back in the safety of her ward, there was still danger.
“Yes, James, I’m fine,” she smiled weakly at him, her eyes returned to the dark blue that was so similar to his own. She looked so drained, even that small bit of magic sapping her strength. “I’m just tired. Not as young as I used to be… the magic takes more of a toll now…”
“Well, rest up, alright?” He gently placed her down, tucking the quilt around her. “You did good, mom.”
“I did my job.” She stated, whispers threading through her voice and undercutting her surety. Because she was an Ironwood, much like himself, and they did their jobs no matter the cost on themselves. “But yes… I think I’ll rest a bit... Winter, will you keep my drink cool for me?”
“Of course.” Winter studied him. “Sir, shall I stay here until the Vault’s closed again?”
“No. I’ll guard it. You take my mother back to her room so she can rest.” He smiled at Winter, before he gave Fria a gentle hug, always careful with his right side. He didn’t think he’d see her again. The transfer of power had to be kept secure. This was already too much of a risk. “Thanks, mom.”
“I had fun,” Fria smiled as she nodded off, a large white Beowulf with cyan eyes forming from a glyph, grasping the hospital bed in its claws as Winter guided it to walk with her, escorting Fria to the lift out.
James watched her go, ready to wait for the vault door to close. He could still feel the heat from here. “Miss Rose, are you alright?”
“I’m good, in the red but good,” she sat on the ground, staring up at the Vault. “I know that I knew it was a paintbrush, but I was really expecting a spear, or a staff, yunno, something more impressive?”
“You don’t think painting’s impressive?” He chuckled slightly, choosing to return to somewhat of a good mood.
“That feels like a trap question.” Ruby eyed him suspiciously, her hands and belt looking empty without the relic she’d been guarding on the trip here.
“Fria paints.”
“Definitely a trap question.” She smiled a bit, and it reminded him of Summer. She really did look so much like her mother. “Your mom is cool.”
“I know she is.” He hoped she slept well, and could remember today. If she had happy memories, he’d rather she was lost in them, rather than anything else. “At least the relic’s safe now.”
“Yeah. It would’ve been really stupid to just carry it around in the open up here, I mean, it draws Grimm. Yeesh.” She looked up at the open Vault. “Well, at least now it’s locked away and no one can get to it. Ugh, could you imagine if I took you up on your offer?”
“... I'd rather not." He hoped he lived that particular idea down soon. It really wasn't his best.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A quick drabble about what would have happened if Ruby remembered The Entire Point of Volume 6. Toss Jinn into the Vault already, she'll live with it.
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realityhelixcreates · 3 years
Text
Dance of the Spheres Chapter 4: Venusian Vogue
Chapters: 4/?
Fandom:  Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: drugging, kidnapping, forced marriage
Characters: Loki(Marvel),
Additional Tags:  Loki Goes Overboard, But When Doesn’t Loki go Overboard, Mature Reader, Disabled Reader, Political Intrigue
Summary:  
Images of broken light Which dance before me like a million eyes They call me on and on across the universe.                   Across the Universe-The Beatles
“I am Loki.”
“I asked for a bride.”
The declarations smashed into you like fists and took your breath with them.
There was a ring on your finger. Silvery, plain, simple. Why hadn't you noticed it before?
This was clearly Loki. Sunken eyes, and onyx hair, and refined bones. Exactly like the pictures. Why hadn't you noticed?
Too many things all at once. Too much. A fearful whine escaped your teeth, as you tugged on the ring. It didn't budge.
“You're supposed to be dead.” You whispered.
His face fell the instant you spoke.
“You know. I sometimes think that myself. Yet somehow I remain. Take it as a reassurance: you will not lose me to battle, or accident. I will never leave you. I suppose that is something that new brides must worry about, especially human ones. You may put that fear to rest.”
“That's not what I'm-” You clamped your mouth shut. You were in a bad position, worse than you'd ever been, maybe. You were completely alone here; you could contact no one for help. You weren't even sure where exactly 'here' was-no one knew where Asgard was located.
You were trapped in a room with a madman. A prince among his own people, who had proven himself capable of the mass murder of humans like you. Yet claiming you were his bride.
No one would come to your aid.
Did anyone even know you were missing?
You glanced at the ring once more. Its twin rested proudly on his own left hand. What choice did you have?
You had to play along. At least until you found some way out of this. Stay on the madman's good side, as much as that was possible.
“Why me?” You asked, fighting down your panic. Just gather information for now. “I'm literally nobody.”
“I don't understand either.” He sat down on the bed, just a little closer to you than arms length. “This was supposed to be a chance at reconciliation. I willingly gave myself up in a symbolic act of unity. Sacrificed my own freedom.”
You side-eyed him hard. Gave up his freedom? In what capacity? He wasn't the one kidnapped and married without any knowledge or choice!
“This isn't an uncommon arrangement.” He continued. “Your species has done this since time immemorial. From kings all the way down to commoners, uniting families, uniting fortunes, uniting entire lands. Surely your...leader...understood what was to be gained. Yes, I did a terrible thing to your people, but this should have forged a new alliance. A promise that not only would I not do such a thing again, but that my formidable prowess would be for your people, rather than against them. Was this not enough? This should have opened the way for trade, for treaties...And you! Why do such a thing to you? One of his own people?”
“Oh, I'm not his.” You said. “I voted against him. I march in protests against his shitty policies. I oppose him in any way I can. I'd say 'maybe that's why', but it really can't be. I'm nowhere near important or influential enough for the government to pay any attention to me. They're too busy trying to kill me through austerity. Or through the cops.”
Loki's face darkened. “I should find that officer and flay him. Make you a bodice of his skin.”
He'd been reaching for your shoulder, but you flinched away.
“Okay see? That right there? That's why people might not want to ally with you.” You pointed out.
“He shouldn't have hurt you.”
“That's true. That doesn't mean you can use my pain as an excuse to rampage on Earth!”
“I shan't!” He protested. “Never again, I promise you that.”
But how good was the promise of government? Politician or hereditary ruler, it was all the same. How good was the word of a murderer? How many promises had he already broken?
“How do you feel?” He asked. “You seem...lively. Whatever you were drugged with, is it having a lasting effect?”
“I'm a little disoriented, but I'm awake.” You said. “The food and water helped.”
“Yes. About that. Ah. Would you like to see your rooms? I've been anticipating your arrival-well, someone's arrival-for some months now, and I've had chambers created that befit your new station.”
The big unknown outside. Beyond this room was nothing but uncertainty. But you would be the first human being to see this new Asgard. You told yourself it was a perk.
“Um...” You mumbled. “My clothes...” You weren't going out there in a flimsy hospital gown, that was for sure.
“Being cleaned and mended.” Loki informed you. “I have a simple gown that I believe should fit you. Here.” Wit a sweeping gesture, he produced a voluminous, forest green garment out of seemingly nowhere.
You scooted away. “How did you do that?” You demanded.
“Magic, of course.” He said. “You...don't know about the magic...?”
You shook your head and took the robe from him. It felt real enough, smooth and soft, with fur trim and pin tucks. This was simple?
“What do you know about me, my dear?” He asked.
“Not much. Just what...turn around!” Sheepishly, he turned his back so you could change. “Just what was on the news. And the approximately three million conspiracy websites that popped up afterwards. You might be shocked by how many people think you were an inside job.”
“A what?”
“That's not even counting all the cults. You and Thor really got the radicalization machine cranking them out. White supremacists, nationalists, doomsday cults...thanks a lot. Not as if we didn't have enough problems cleaning up the mess you left behind.”
“That...was not my intention. Were you...?”
“I was not part of any cults. I was also not part of the celebration of your death, either.”
The news broadcast had interrupted every television, lit up every phone. A tired and battle-worn Thor, looking not one inch the hero the world knew him to be, as he towered over the reporter. He gave only a short statement: His brother Loki was dead, perished in honorable battle, in an effort to protect the galaxy from an ancient enemy.
People had trusted him. They'd seen the destruction that enemy had caused, in their quest to destroy everything. The odd teleportation anomalies in England that had dominated youtube for a long time. The leaves in your bathroom, the foreign plants in the park. Exotic, even alien creatures being spotted.
People threw parties at the news of Loki's demise. You'd gone out, gotten yourself exactly one drink, and then stayed home for the weekend. It didn't seem right, not after seeing Thor so hollowed out. You didn't really get on with celebrating the death of your enemies anyway, only the success of your causes.
“Oh. Well. Thank you.”
“But yeah, all I really know is that you attacked us out of the blue, and brought an army with you. You caused billions in damages and cost hundreds of lives. Thousands more lost everything. The economic blow is still with us, and led to some of the problems I've been marching against. And then you died. Except not, obviously. Was Thor lying to us?”
“No. He truly believed me dead. I did too, until I woke up. So you know nothing of me. I feared that might be the case. I am no warlord, not truly. I am the foremost sorcerer of Asgard. My magic has many applications, one of which is that I am rarely found without what I need.”
“So magic is real?” Why not? Aliens were real. Gods were apparently real.
“Yes, very. When times were...better, I used to tutor younger students. I might go back to doing that, once we are more established. Once we are safe.”
Safe? From what? Was whatever it was that had destroyed Asgard still out there? Thor had said otherwise, before the radio silence, but he had also thought that Loki was dead, and he was wrong about that, so...
“May I look now, dear?”
“Oh...yeah. I'm dressed.” The gown did fit, though mostly because it was a shapeless, oversized thing that was closed around you with ties. Still, it was luxurious, and made you feel like you were actually pretty-as long as no one looked at you too closely. Was this what a princess wore? You shouldn't allow yourself to get too used to it. As soon as you found a way out, you were out.
“Delightful. Even such a simple gown enhances your beauty. Will you come with me, dear? Let me show you our grand achievements.”
You didn't really want to be exposed to the people of Asgard, but this room was no safer than anywhere else right now. Loki hovered, and you stood, and managed a few wobbly steps before you overbalanced. He caught you instantly.
“Don't worry.” He murmured. “I'm here.”
As if that wasn't the problem in the first place.
“So, while you were carrying me off...I mean, when you, uh, received me, did you notice a cane lying around?” You asked. “I had one. Did the guys who brought me give it to you?”
“I'm afraid not.” He said apologetically. “They seemed strangely eager to quit the area.”
“Yeah, well. They had just committed a felony.” You griped. “They probably had orders to disappear. And they probably didn't want to hang around and witness what a warlord was gonna do to me.”
He winced. “I promise you, that's not what I really am.”
“Sorry.”
He held out his arm for you. “I don't have your cane, but I can support you. We will have another cane made for you. There should have been an Artificer and an apprentice Healer in here at some point, to measure you for a new prosthetic.”
“Uh, there were. I, uh, kinda told them to piss off.”
“Ah. I suppose I cannot blame you, now that I know of your situation. But they are here at your service, as is all of Asgard.”
He helped you limp along, somehow maintaining his dignified stride, even as you wobbled along like a penguin. The hallways were as bland and labyrinthine as a human hospital, if somewhat more softly lit. Again the light source was obscured behind thin panes of cloudy crystal, which diffused the light, giving everything a comforting, if slightly mysterious atmosphere, which the general emptiness of the area only enhanced.
There were few people here, but for some reason, you had been placed in a room far within the hospital complex. Maybe they wanted to hide you away, so that no one knew you were here until they were ready to introduce you to Asgard. Or until they were certain you were going to survive. It might cause a scandal if the prince's bride just up and died upon arrival.
Or perhaps it was to protect you. There were plenty of reasons why a human bride might not be accepted by the Asgardian populace; everything from nationalism, to someone wanting to make a bid for that crown themselves.
There were still no windows to be seen, and everything was made of stone, just like in the hospital room. Out here, in the halls and waiting rooms, the desks, chairs, and tables all seemed to be joined to the walls and floor, as if the whole place had been carved from a single, solid piece, like the rock-cut architecture of the fabled city of Petra. Here again were the creamy grays and oranges lining the walls, though a smooth black also made an appearance.
Eventually, you came to what must have been a foyer, with a high ceiling, complex stone mosaics, and huge, gorgeously carved double doors, but still no windows.
“We will be going outside now.” Loki said. “This facility is within the palace complex, and is not far from your special chambers, but we will have to cross a few halls and courtyards. There are plenty of places to sit, so if you need a rest, simply say so.”
He opened the doors for you, and you stepped out into a world of stone.
Everything was stone, stone or metal. Before you was a wide open courtyard, clearly unfinished, but spacious. At regular intervals were stone towers supporting open pillared hallways in a multiple storied, vaguely Roman courtyard style. The towers shot up, and up, and up...you climbed them with your gaze, following them to the heights to which they had to buttress each other with thin struts of stone, higher still, where they joined with an impossibly high ceiling.
There was a roof over the courtyard, so tall that your couldn't fathom how it had been built. Beyond the courtyards stacked walkways-six full stories-you could see the tips of other towers, lined with lights, merging with this high rise ceiling. Was the entire palace built under this massive shelter?
Clearly the sun did not reach into the palace. To offset this, the crystal-paned, inset lights were everywhere, creating complex patterns that mimicked the intricate knotted carvings that chased up the towers and pillars. The corbels glared down at you, fierce masks of bearded men, wolves, dragons and birds, lights in their eyes.
Combined, it was not as bright as sunlight, but not dim either. The softness of the glow made shadows diffuse, made the stone look soft and fake, and even shimmery in places, like the set pieces in eighties fantasy movies. If not for the pain in your bruises, you'd have thought the dreamy atmosphere was just that, and that you were about to wake up from this absurd dream any moment now.
But the pain was there, and denied that simple, hopeful wish. And Loki was there, gently urging you forward like he was a real gentleman, instead of a heinous war criminal. There were a few other people out here as well; walking the courtyards pillared halls, resting on stone benches, carving hollows into the ground.
There was no soil here. All stone. As you crossed the courtyard, you noticed black, and gray, and cloudy crystal inlaid into the ground in a shape reminiscent of a compass rose, decorated with silvery wire knotwork in bird and serpent shapes.
There were troughs and niches being carved into the ground that looked to you like they were meant to be flower beds...eventually. You had seen no dirt here yet, no grass or growing things at all. Maybe once you finally got outside. But for now, it felt as if you had left a building, only to exit into another building, that was in turn, within another building.
It was a bit suffocating.
Loki led you across several courtyards, each with a different pattern inlaid into their bare floor, and through vaulted hallways that still contained no windows. Many of these hallways intersected in large, circular domes, and few of them had any distinctive markings. Soon you were completely lost. With any luck, you would be able to get your hands on some paper, and create a map-otherwise, any escape attempts would be doomed from the word go.
But maybe that was the point.
Your staggering steps echoed down a particularly tall and wide hallway, almost completely devoid of people. You were almost at the end of your physical capabilities, and while there were places to sit, you felt like you must be close to your destination. You really wanted to be in a room whose dimensions you could be certain of. A space you could comprehend.
Loki brought you to a stop in front of a pair of carved wooden doors. As the first piece of architecture you had seen here that was something other than stone, you found them more beautiful than anything you'd seen all day. They were something almost normal, almost like something you would have at home. If you were insanely rich, or your dad was a carpenter or something. They were a warm terra-cotta color, carved with a dizzying array of knotwork, framed with blackened, riveted iron. The handles were iron serpents.
“We imported some things from your homeland. This redwood lumber is one such thing. From what I hear, these trees are emblematic of your country.”
“Er...” How to politely say, 'not really, even though most people who live there do know what a redwood is'. They weren't very important to anyone who didn't live near where they grew. They weren't what you would call 'quintessentially American'. There wasn't anything you could really call that. The place was just too damn big.
“We couldn't bring too much, not yet anyway.” He continued. “It is expensive, unfortunately, and we only have one ship. It can only carry so much, and it takes about three days to transport. Things are moving slowly, but our construction projects are moving along speedily. There's little else to do right now, save build.”
He opened the doors for you, and led you into a fairy tale.
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frightfurtabby · 3 years
Text
HimiKiyo Week 2021 Day 4: I Am Not Your Queen
// Mastermind Kiyo AU for day 4! Because that’s a pretty good reason to be enemies. Could things be different? It’ll take a while for these two to figure out.
Word Count: 2848
Links-
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34159447
Amino: (coming soon)
“That’s right. If all other alibis check out…” Shuichi said, hand on his chin. This was the final class trial, everyone’s fate hinged directly on what was going to happen next. It depended on the case they’ve built up so far being absolutely correct. One irrefutable accusation and the mastermind’s entire game was crumbling to pieces like a house of cards. “Then there can only be one person that was behind the lies that killed Kaede, Rantaro, and all our other friends.” 
His finger pointed across and to his left, at the person standing between Tsumugi and Maki at their trial bench. “Korekiyo Shinguji, you’re the real mastermind behind the killing game!”
The detective's words echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls. Himiko, in spite of how many times others called her “slow” grew increasingly silent as the discussion kept going back to them and their actions from earlier. They had been outed as a serial killer in a previous trial but in spite of everything they helped Himiko at her lowest point immediately after what had happened with Angie and Tenko. 
She remembered crying on Kiyo’s shoulder, listening to their soothing voice put her at ease, advice like a wise sage being passed down. Each and every time she needed it, she would go to that anthropology lab. Each time her footsteps took her in, her feelings only grew stronger. Her first kiss was in there, with them. Before what happened there was a pull she felt, but she never got much of a chance to get close with how intimidating they came off as.
Kiyo, who was now replying calmly as though none of it was bothering them. This was how it started in the other trial too, So that should be reassuring right? 
“Yes, it was me.” they said, “I just so happened to pick up my own after noticing Kaede had taken one with help from my nanokumas.”
Oh. 
Oh no.
And now it felt like the world was crumbling again. Only instead of feeling deflated and alone she was enraged. Enraged that the case against Kiyo didn’t have any holes in it. How could it be true? And now just admitting to it?
“Was all of that… was all of it a lie Kiyo?” she begged that what they had was real. Even now standing across from them as enemies. 
“No. I’ve been up front with you this whole time. There were simply parts of the story you weren’t ready to know. And you still… aren’t ready yet.”
“But you- but you-” words escaped the Mage, leaving her unable to think calmly and properly. “You could have stopped this at any point, but you kept going.” She didn’t even notice they felt a tinge of fear underneath the words she was replying to.
“Why assume I have enough control to end it early, that would be going far off-script.” A small bead of sweat formed which the killer wiped away. 
Wait… off script? What did something like that even mean?
Himiko turned to notice that Maki was giving them a death glare. “Because you’re the mastermind, obviously.”
“Oh, I see. In that case… no, I wasn’t working alone to do this.” they began to explain. “This wouldn’t have been possible without Team Danganronpa and all the fans watching right this very minute!”
“T-Team… D-Danganronpa?” Tsumugi stuttered in shock.  
“Yes, the studio that put together the killing game with me on the ground so to speak to act on their behalf. We are not actually the only ones left alive, there are more humans alive than any other time in history and millions upon millions of them tune into this program.“
“The world is… fine?” Kiibo pondered. The revelation made him tense about what his inner voice may be.
“Why would the world want a killing game?”
Kiyo responded “It works as a kind of release valve, I suppose. Conflicts have dwindled over the existence and increasing popularity of this show after all.”
“Can we… Can we go home? Kiyo please, let me go, let *us* go. You can do that right?”
“Even though it is not destroyed, you still cannot.” The other voice came from Korekiyo once more. Sister was back in action. Sternly she looked over each of the remaining survivors. As though she was looking down on them.
Himiko glared at her from under her hat. “You again.” While she was feeling so complicated about Korekiyo right now, she unambiguously disliked their “Sister”. Then it hit her. Maybe if the Sister personality was the one that was the one really in charge she could forgive them… maybe.
It would take a lot after something as horrible as this. Especially since Maki and Shuichi swore to never forgive the mastermind, she was certain that she wouldn’t either. Even if Kiyo was just a lackey it would take time to trust again.
“I’m pleased you’ve all made it this far.” Sister said, sounding incredibly pleased with herself, rather than anything they’d accomplished. “I wasn’t sure you had it in you. I’d like you all to meet the fans.” 
The blush bear sweated, making the cartoon ‘awooga’ sound like a character seeing an attractive person. “Yes ma’am.”
Futuristic gears spun in front of Monokuma, bringing a keyhole to in front of him, he stuck the key in and several screens proceeded to descend. Faces appeared: Asian, white, black, men, women, even children. Various expressions across their features. None of them stayed long enough for any witness to recognize, even if they remembered anyone they had known.
“These are the fans of Danganronpa.” Sister explained. “Danganronpa is their collective favorite show. The 53rd season has been one of the most successful in years.
The discussion was halted. It was surreal, more so than even waking up here originally was. All of those people had been watching the whole time. 
Himiko asked “So the fans they saw… everything?” Did they know who the mastermind was?”
“I presume some of them did, but this reveal is equally for their benefit. There’s a vibrant debate each season about who the mastermind is and how they did it. Occasionally spoilers will get leaked.”
“So this… was the killing real?” Tsumugi’s voice wavered as she tried to speak up.
“Yes, that part was real. The people playing those eliminated characters are gone from this world as well as the real one.” Sister took off Kiyo’s hat and put it across their chest looking solemn. “They knew there was a strong chance of that, and signed up like many other fans before them.”
“Was it you or Korekiyo who committed Rantaro’s murder?” Shuichi prodded. The shock was wearing off. The trial was continuing at last in the wake of 2 extremely unnerving revelations.
“I feel like that’s a question dear Korekiyo should give the answer to.” Their shared body pulled up the mask and Kiyo began to speak again 
“It was as I said many times, I’m only meant to be an observer. I… admittedly broke that role when I chose to do what I did. I even apologized to them, to myself for it.”
“Then why, surely you must have had a reason.” Shuichi prodded. 
“Regrettably for my ethnography, our class that should have been in a completely fresh, sealed environment was muddied when I did it. Sometimes what I want comes into conflict with a higher power and they were banking on Rantaro Amami’s death being the hook for the episode.”
“So then Kaede’s shot put ball really missed…then why didn’t you kill all of us when we got the answer wrong? Simply f--for Television ratings?”
“I’m afraid the answer to that is yes. That is why everyone survived the sham trial. The fans would have completely revolted.”
“But maybe we’d be spared this revolting game continuing. Do you understand all of this is wrong?” Maki shot at them. 
“Those are quite the harsh words from a professional killer. Though… maybe I shouldn’t say that, your backstory is fake after all.”
“So then… I didn’t spend all that time…” Maki muttered. That wouldn't stop all of it from feeling deeply real. 
“No you did not. That is part of the Ultimate Real Fiction.” Kiyo explained. “It was put into your mind by the flashback lights, as Shuichi deduced. All of our lives were.”
“Being fundamentally changed into a completely different person with a completely different life… what kind of cruel person would force someone to-” Maki
“Forced to?” Kiyo asked quizzically. “No, I can assure you every one of you wanted this. Team Danganronpa takes all of your input very seriously.”
“Our… input?” Himiko asked.
Kiyo clapped their hands together. “Of course. Now I shall show you!”
The screen cut away from the faces of the fans and to some kind of tape. Shuichi Saihara stood in front of the camera. He spoke about how he loved Danganronpa and wanted to be a detective character.
He finished with “ And I’d do anything to be in danganronpa. I will come up with the best, most gruesome murders. Everyone would love it! And, a detective character hasn’t been the blackened yet, so I’m sure I could do that. I’m even thinking about the perfect punishment… for the ultimate detective.”
His glee was evident. Someone so against the killing right now had been one of the biggest fans ever, with a Junko like joy in thinking about how he would be punished as the culprit. It really was like before coming here he wasn’t the same person.
They even went so far as to play Kaede and Kaito’s revealing in part they had said things like “I don’t have any faith in humanity” and “I’m going to kill everyone and win.” respectively. 
“So you see… none of us were the same. If you like how you are now then you may stay perhaps? Finish the fight of hope against despair. Or we, as friends, could all stay here?”
“No, we won’t do that.” Shuichi said, pointing dramatically. “Right guys? The only way to get through and win this. It’s to reject hope and despair. The very premise of Danganronpa.”
It was put up to a vote. Before that, the outside world had tried to argue Hope or Despair, reinforcing the choice. But the cast continued to refuse. 
“We’ll end this with our own hands!” 
It came and went. And… Everybody abstained.?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kiibo flew out of the trial room, determined to end the entire killing game now no matter the cost. Everyone would finally be free. All he needed was to finish off this prison school with his upgrades. Rocket boosters made it easy to fly to the next part to blow up.
Down below him, the remaining survivors stood in the courtyard. Kiyo had stopped right before outside. Himiko stopped as soon as she noticed they weren’t running like the others. And those three stopped everything because their friend was endangering herself.
She approached them, which caused a curious head tilt. They had been waving before that moment. It should have been goodbye forever.
“I can’t… let it end like this. It shouldn’t end with you dying like Junko.” 
“Why not? Do you not doubt my feelings? I’m just playing my part after all.”
“Your part, look… about that, listen.”
“And what a grand p-” It seemed like they wanted their final words to be some grandiose speech. 
“We don’t have time, please.” She grabbed them by the hand, watching the school building collapse further as it became less able to hold its own weight with all the holes punched in each wall. Over her shoulder she pleaded with Maki to help move the obstinate murderer. 
The rock above must have spurred Maki on. If she had done nothing, surely both of them would have been crushed. And as painful as it was to keep someone who worked for the captors around she wasn’t about to lose another friend after watching what had happened with Kaito and Kokichi getting themselves killed in that harebrained scheme. 
If it ended like that, it felt like it was disrespecting their plan to stop the killing.
Maki also helped Himiko pull Kiyo away towards an opening that formed after Kiibo blew himself up to take the cage down with him. Four people crawled through, blinded by a bright expanse. 
Birds chirped. Several voices could be heard shouting. It was time to go home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The campus was in a bright field. In fact they could clearly see the ruined courtyard from where they all stood. The wall was broken down and so all that was left behind was the twisted, warped metal of their former cage and the buildings they had walked for the several months they were in a fictional world cut off from everything else.
The line separating the two worlds was broken. It was really that thin the whole time. And it reflected the true reality they found around them. 
It was as unfamiliar as their memory of waking up inside what they had just left. Nobody but the mastermind retained any memory of ever being in this place.
They were led to a hallway by uniformed employees, many rooms lining each side of it. It looked exactly like the dorms that had been in the fictional hope’s peak. Save for the fact all the placards were for them: the survivors and the deceased. 
If there was much spoken, Himiko didn’t pay attention to it. She didn’t know what to say, how to process much of it internally. 
Korekiyo was much more aware and listened, chiming in hoping to be helpful in spite of the fact none of them would want their help. 
The mastermind was almost always scripted to be killed, to be thoroughly and finally defeated by the hope of the students. It was in fact what they had agreed to happen. This class was very different. Shuichi and Kaito and Maki of course, but the whole time Himiko was special too. 
And she didn’t remember why that was. 
They had agreed in private at some point before the procedure to fully become their characters but after the first scene’s rehearsal that it would be terrible if only one of the two had to die. In the moment of escape there was a split second where Kiyo could swear a spark in her eyes indicating some kind of memory of this.
Was it an unspoken acknowledgement? They had to check. If she had really remembered something, then maybe there wasn’t a need to perform a routine as enemies. And they could be forgiven for what happened. At least, more easily so than if she did not recall what things were like leading up to the actual game.
After things settled down, Himiko and Kiyo privately met once again. Both were nervous. 
“Himiko Yumeno. I… would like to ask you something.” 
She didn’t look up, just sitting in the chair and debating whether or not she should be afraid of them. They could go back to being Sister at any point, and that would really freak her out. 
“Go ahead.” the redhead muttered.
“Why did you save me?” Kiyo leaned forward trying to listen more closely.
“I don’t know. I… maybe it was a mistake letting you live. For some reason though I felt… like I had to.”
Maki, Shuichi, and Tsumugi certainly let her know how much of a mistake they thought it was. It didn’t feel good, even if the latter two tried their best to be polite about it. 
“If it makes you feel any better I’m not sure how I feel about this either.”
“Do you… no, did you want to die Kiyo?”
“Yes. I was quite fine with it.” they held their tongue upon finishing, hesitating. That statement was not entirely true. They had accepted it, but part of them still felt bad that only she would get out of this if they had. And that was debatably the worst outcome. The other two options would have been preferable, and they got one of them!
“I… well you know how much I wanted to die in the killing game. How scared I was.”
“I knew how much you wanted to die before, from your audition.”
That reminded her. “Why didn’t you show any from mine then?”
“I…” Kiyo started, rubbing the back of their neck. “I was sure you would hate me even more than you already should if I showed it the way I did the others.”
“Can you show me it?” she perked up a little bit. Why were they so concerned about if she hated them? They certainly seemed willing to tell her all sorts of things even though they were enemies.
They nodded and produced a USB drive. They walked over to a laptop and put it in. “And if you don’t remember anything after this, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Promise?” she pleaded with them.
“Yes.” a small smile was hidden by their mask. Maybe being enemies wasn’t a forever thing.
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livesincerely · 3 years
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im not feeling the best right now emotionally so i am here presenting you with a free space to ramble about whatever you want because your writing genuinely cheers me up so much
Hello darling!! I’m sorry you’re in a rough mindset, sending all the good feelings and well wishes your way 😘💕✨💗⭐️💕😊✨💗
So, I’ve been thinking a lot about that most recent, how would a proposal/wedding happen in the domestic au? prompt.
It’s so funny, I’d never really thought about a domestic au wedding until I got the ask, but now that the question was put forward, I’m finding that I have a lot of thoughts about it (because of course I do lol.)
I’m not sure yet if this will end up being a whole thing like the holiday fic did, but I definitely have a solid idea for a single moment/one shot that I’m excited about—hoping to get that finished in the next few days!
Here’s a sneak peek at what I have so far! Most of it is stuff you’ve seen before in that original ask but more polished, but there’s some new stuff in there too.... ☺️😉
00000
“So, when are you gonna get married?” Tony asks apropos of nothing, looking between him and Davey with keen interest.
Jack barely manages to keep from choking on his cereal. Davey, who’d been in the middle of spreading a bit of lox on a bagel, slowly sets down his knife.
Charlie aims a kick at Tony under the table.
“You’re asking them now?” he hisses. “I thought we were gonna ease them into the idea!”
“There is no easing them into the idea when it comes to Jack and Davey,” Tony says, his expression tight with the exasperation of the long suffering. “You gotta give it to ‘em straight, right from the get go, ‘cause they’ll never figure it out on their own.”
“Hey,” Jack says weakly, but he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and they all know it.
“So, I’m asking,” Tony determinedly continues as if Jack hadn’t said anything. “When are you gettin’ married?”
There’s a long pause where he and Davey just stare at each other, neither of them quite sure how to respond.
He gets this from you, Davey’s expression says, clear as day.
I know he does, Jack says with a commiserating look, holding back a sigh.
“Well?” Tony demands when the silence stretches on for too long.
“It’s probably a little soon to be thinking about marriage,” Davey eventually says, far more delicately than Jack would’ve managed. “We haven’t talked about it at all yet⁠—”
“Because we only just got together yesterday, Tony,” Jack dryly interjects. “In case you forgot about that little detail.”
“—And we should probably start with the question of if we want to get married before we jump to the when,” Davey concludes.
Tony’s nose scrunches up, obviously dissatisfied with this answer.
“Of course you’re gonna get married,” he says, as if this is plainly obvious. “You’re basically married already, I just wanna know when the wedding’s gonna be.”
“Um.” Davey’s gone faintly pink. “Well, like I said, Jack and I haven’t talked about anything like that yet. We’re comfortable the way we are now, no need to rush into anything⁠—”
“And since we literally only just got together yesterday,” Jack says again, a little more emphatically, just to make sure the point lands, “getting married right off the bat would be all kinds of crazy.”
Tony levels him with the flattest look in all of existence. “You’re crazy if you think you haven’t already been married to Davey for years.”
Jack’s voice catches in his throat, a little blindsided by the truth of that statement. Davey’s mouth opens and closes, the rosy flush of his cheeks shading a touch deeper.
“We’re not thinking about gettin’ married just yet,” Jack says once he’s steadied himself, in a tone that brooks no further arguments. “Dave and I will talk about it when the time comes, if⁠,” he stresses clearly, “we decide that’s what we want.”
“But what, exactly, is holding you back?” Tony asks, stubbornly brooking further arguments anyway. “Like, do you have any actual reasons?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business,” Jack snipes back. “Given that that’ll be a conversation between me and Davey.”
“I just don’t understand what the big deal is,” Tony says, crossing his arms across his chest. “Pretty much nothing would change, except that the next time someone assumes that you two are married, they’d actually be right instead of simply noticing what was so obvious that even complete strangers clue in to it⁠—”
“Tony,” Jack groans.
“—coming to the perfectly understandable conclusion that you’re together⁠—”
“Tony, that’s enough, we get it,” Jack says.
“—instead of the inexplicable reality of the situation which was that you were, in fact, not together, despite being in love with each other for eight entire years because you’re idiots⁠—”
Jack covers his face with his hands.
“—and given that, like, every aspect of your lives are already tangled together, it’s not really that big of a step for you to just go ahead and make it official.”
Jack sighs so hard he feels it in his bones. “If we promise to talk about this, will you please stop talking about it?”
“Eight years, Jack!” Tony cries, impassioned. “That’s half of my life! That’s more than half of Charlie’s life!”
“Do not bring me into this,” Charlie quickly interjects, “I am a passive witness and nothing more.”
“You’re such a fucking turncoat, Choo-choo,” Tony mutters with no real heat. “You’re supposed to have my back on this.”
“Maybe if you could ever actually stick to a plan,” Charlie grumbles back.
“We’ll talk about it,” Jack says loudly, interrupting their bickering before it can gain any ground. “Okay?”
There’s a moment of blessed silence.
Then Tony says, “So, like, right now? Or…?”
“Sure!” Jack says, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Why not? Clearly, I’m not gonna get any fucking peace until this is sorted—
“Finally!” Tony exclaims. “God, was that so hard?”
“—so go away,” Jack finishes.
Tony’s mouth falls open.
“What do you mean, go away?” he protests, looking genuinely shocked. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I’m not gonna let you sit here and fucking… moderate our conversation, dumbass,” Jack sputters. “Get out!”
“But I really feel like this is the kinda conversation that needs moderating,” Tony disagrees. “It’s not like either of you have a great track record for effective communication⁠—”
“Anthony Ethan Higgins,” Jack warns, nearly at the end of his rope.
Tony rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with the motion. “I am literally just trying to help, you don’t gotta get all defensive about it⁠—”
“Jesus Christ, Tony,” Jack says, completely and utterly done. “Will you please just⁠— Just go somewhere that isn’t here.”
“But are you gonna talk about it?” Tony insists, really digging in his heels. “Because if you’re just gonna not talk about it the second I leave then I think I should⁠—”
“Tonio, juro por Dios—”
“Tony, honey,” Davey finally steps back into the fray, far calmer than he has any right to be, and somehow, miraculously, Tony’s mullish expression softens into something a little chagrined. Jack gapes, wrong-footed by the sudden change. “I think you’ve made your point and given Jack more than enough heart attacks for one morning, yeah? So why don’t you go ahead and give us a few minutes, and I promise we’ll talk about it.”
Tony deflates. “Yeah, okay.”
“Thank you, baby.”
Tony shuffles away, mollified for now. Davey pauses, then says, “Charlie, that means you too.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” Charlie protests. “I’m just sittin’ here, tryin’ to eat.”
He takes an exaggerated bite of his bagel as if to prove his point, eyes extra wide and innocent.
“Charlie.”
“But my food!”
“Take it with you,” Davey suggests, very patiently.
Charlie looks as though that thought hadn’t occurred to him.
“Okay,” he says, scooping up his plate and scurrying after his brother. He hesitates in the doorway, then adds, “My vote is for an autumn wedding, if that counts for anything.”
“Charlie.”
“Going!”
Once he’s sure they’re both gone, Jack heaves another massive sigh.
“They’re such a pair of little shits,” he says, to Davey and the world at large. “Fucking hell.”
Davey takes a drink of his coffee, holding out his other hand to Jack in offering. Jack reaches over and laces their fingers together, most of his irritation slipping away in an instant at the simple contact.
“But he is right, you know,” Davey comments lightly.
“I know he’s right,” Jack grumbles, rubbing his thumb over Davey’s knuckles. “Don’t mean he ain’t a little shit.”
“Well, naturally,” Davey agrees. “He’s related to you.”
“Oh, please,” Jack says with a snort. “That little spiel of his was all you. ‘The inexplicable reality of the situation’,” he mimics, his voice landing in some strange imitation of Tony mixed with Davey, which ends up not really sounding like either of them. “It was like hearin’ your voice comin’ outta Tony’s mouth.”
“And it was a well thought-out argument,” Davey says pertly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a wry grin. “His timing could use some work, though.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Jack says, taking a bite of his cereal⁠ and immediately making a face—it’s gone all gross and soggy during the craziness, because of course it has. He pushes the bowl away with a mournful look. “Didn’t even let us finish breakfast before pouncing.”
“Well, it has been eight years,” Davey says, and he’s definitely laughing a little now. “Guess he’s afraid of a repeat performance.”
“Sure,” Jack says with a shrug, because that part had been hard to argue with. More than half of Charlie’s life, Jesus. “But he was talkin’ like he expected us to walk down the aisle this afternoon. I mean, we can’t just get married. You don’t just get married.”
“Most people don’t,” Davey says, tilting his head. “But then, we aren’t really most people, are we, darling?”
It takes a moment for this statement to fully land for Jack⁠, and when it finally does, it lands with a boom.
“Are you sayin’ you’d marry me?” Jack asks, utterly floored, his heart pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest.
“Are you asking me?” Davey asks, calmly sipping his coffee like he isn’t rocking Jack’s world, right here over breakfast, for the second time in not even two days.
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five-miles-over · 4 years
Text
New Girl (High School!Commodus x Reader)
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Summary: You are a new student at Institutum Romanus Educational (which is supposed to be Latin for “Roman Educational Institute”) and come across some fascinating characters (I mean classmates). Sort of based off a ‘Gladiator’ AU listicle. Hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: A cheesy meet-cute scene
Word Count: 1,663
When you’d came to Rome to visit your father during your winter holiday, you had only hoped it would be a temporary break from your mundane life back in your hometown. Perhaps you’d get a chance to see the quaint streets covered in frost, or visit the Tiber River. And like most children, you would get a present - maybe new clothes, or a gadget. A brochure for a new school was certainly not what you were expecting as a gift.
Yet here you were, on your first day of the new semester in January, walking to your first period. All you were hoping for was nothing but a peaceful end to your 10th year. You were now to be a student at the Institutum Romanus Educational, or IRE as many playfully called it. It was perplexing to you why a school would insist upon retaining its Latin name, but your parents said it was reinstated by its current principal Marcus Aurelius. He was supposedly an admirer of the Classics and wanted his children to have a good understanding of ancient languages.
The first period of the day was Physics, which you never had a huge affinity towards, but were certainly not averse to. The teacher was kind, and he seemed to be quite enthusiastic about the content he was talking about. After being armed with two problem sets about electromagnetism, you had to walk across the entire building to your next class - English.
Throughout the hall, many of the sights weren’t very different from your old school - there were cliques of people talking to each other, and a few couples making out in front of the lockers. Campaign posters of a girl named Lucilla Aurelius were plastered across the wall. You were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her on your way to class and by gods, the posters did not do her justice. She was gorgeous.
Flanked by two “minions” or girls wearing blouses and skirts similar to the pink-and-white combination she was wearing, she held a box of buttons that said, “Vote for Lucilla, Vote for Rome” on them. With a charismatic grin, she was passing them out to various people and telling them to vote for her for their Student Body President.
Another voice rose from the cacophony in the hallways. “I wouldn’t even know if a rat had chewed off the ends of her thin strands, that’s how ugly that girl’s haircut is.” A bald boy wearing an Assassin’s Creed shirt loomed over a girl with a pixie cut, who was crying.
He was answered by a larger boy, a seemingly more bulky one. “Quinn, I don’t think that’s how to get over being dumped. Just leave her alone.”
“Hagen, you piece of meat.” Quinn grumbled, leaving the tiny girl to pick up her books from the floor. Hagen gave her the rest of her things and sent her off to class.
When you entered your English class, you heaved a sigh of relief that you were on time. The board saying ‘Hamlet’ assured you that you had reached the correct classroom. The seats were almost all filled except for one placed in front of a green-eyed boy with cropped dark hair.
He was probably the perfect mix of gothic and preppy - his bangs were long enough to fall over his brow, and he wore a barely noticeable layer of eyeliner. His crisp, black button-down, paired with his skinny jeans and black designer boots, served as a stark contrast to the sweat pants and hoodies many of the other male students wore.
You waved politely only to find him idly writing something in a journal. It looked like something in elaborate cursive, and you would’ve looked further if the teacher didn’t begin taking attendance. And if it doing so wouldn’t make you look completely creepy.
Within moments, the teacher began lecturing about one of Shakespeare’s most famous tragedies, calling upon various students to read scenes out loud for the rest of the class. A few kids named Gregory and Falcon read for the parts of Polonius, the chamberlain of Denmark, and Laertes, the son of Polonius.
You were nearly caught by surprise when the teacher invited you to read Ophelia’s lines in front of the class from Act 1, Scene 3 of the play. It wasn’t exactly on your agenda to attract much attention on your first day, but you decided to accept anyways. Standing in front of the class, you read Ophelia’s lines loud and clear while your green-eyed mystery, named Commodus, read Hamlet’s lines with passion. He seemed like he was born for this role.
“Thank you, both of you.” Your teacher applauded both of you after the scene was completed. When you returned to your seat, you saw a hand reach towards you from behind, holding a yellow sticky note. Quickly taking it, you tucked it under your knee before you could get caught.
“Commie’s passing notes in class again,” Gregory taunted, leading the entire class to laugh with him as the boy sitting behind you fumed with embarrassment. “Infatuated with the girl reading Ophelia, he seems to forget when the stage ends and when real life begins.”
The teacher’s eyebrows furrowed at Gregory’s remark. “Y/N, is this true? Did Commodus give you a note?”
“No, not at all,” you lied for him. “He didn’t give me a note at all, I just dropped my sticky notes and he gave them back to me.” Ignoring Gregory’s eye-rolling, the teacher reluctantly accepted your alibi and continued to lecture until the bell rung.
“Nice reading voice.” A boy in a burnt orange jacket offered you a kind smile as you both left the classroom. “You, uh, the new girl?”
“I am, thanks,” you nodded. “And you are?”
“The new boy,” he joked. “Sort of - I came here a few months ago from Australia. Actually Spain’s my homeland - I was born there.”
“So you’re a Spaniard?”
“No, I’m Max, but Spaniard works,” he winked, eliciting a laugh from you. “Want me to walk you to your next class?”
“If it’s not too much trouble for you,” you answered. “You wouldn’t by chance happen to know where World History is?
Max grinned. “That’s just where I’m headed. You looked confused when you entered - thought you could use a friendly face on your first day.”
“Thank you for making me feel a bit more welcome, Max.” You replied, letting him lead you through the crowd of students. Unbeknownst to the both of you, a pair of jealous peridot eyes followed the two of you until you turned the corner and disappeared.
Later that day, when lunchtime came around, your eyes widened at the color and variety of the flavorful dishes being served. It was almost like they were being prepared by gourmet chefs. You couldn’t help but smile at how pretty your tray looked; penne with a creamy tomato sauce, arugula salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, a piece of bread, and freshly cut fruit.
Deciding against the crowded cafeteria, you decided to take a chance to explore some of the other hallways in your new school. You wondered just how big your new school could possibly be. Did they have an indoor pool, a large gymnasium, a library,…or an auditorium? Holding your tray close to your chest, you walked into the large theater. In the center of the breathtakingly colossal stage, you found Commodus sitting cross-legged next to his shoulder bag and a thermos.
“Hello,” you quietly greeted him, approaching the edge of the stage and climbing up.
“Shouldn’t you be eating in the cafeteria?”, he asked, slightly perplexed, looking up from the book he was reading.”No,” you replied, placing your backpack down. “It wasn’t really my scene at my old school. I used to eat in the library or the music room.”
Commodus hummed in acknowledgment, returning to his copy of Dracula and his thermos of black coffee. “Where’s your lunch?” You asked, sitting next to him.
“I don’t usually eat any. I’m too busy.”
You pushed your tray towards him. “Would you like to share some of mine?”
“Yes, thank you.” He ripped off a piece of the bread and dipped it into the pasta sauce before chewing it. Commodus allowed himself a few more bites partially because he didn’t want to seem rude and…you seemed likable.
A few moments of silence took place while the two of you ate before you glanced at the clock. “Well…it’s time for me to go to my next class,” you commented.
“Oh…” His eyes looked slightly downcast when you told him you had to leave. “You look lovely!” You froze at his sudden compliment. “That…that was what I hoped to tell you in that note I gave you. That you look exquisite - your hair, your lips, your eyes- it reminded me of Lady Ophelia when you read her lines. You’re…you look more beguiling than she would be.”
“That’s quite sweet of you, Commodus.” You said with a small smile, flabbergasted. “Thank you, I…I’m quite flattered.”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t like it. Most people don’t understand my references or my vocabulary.” Commodus stammered, relieved that you didn’t find him disturbing for comparing you to a Shakespearean heroine. “Thank you for sharing your lunch and your time with me, Y/N.”  
“Of course,” you extended your hand, expecting to shake his. “It was nice meeting you, Commodus.”
Accepting your gesture, he clasped your hand and softly kissed your knuckles, causing you to blush. Usually, princes from fairytales would do something so chivalrous. “It was nice meeting you too,” Commodus replied.
“I’ll see you later, then.” You carried your tray and backpack and began leaving the auditorium. Commodus watched you leave, hoping that perhaps you wouldn’t be like many of the other new kids, pretending to be nice before getting swept away by the popular students. That perhaps you would be…just as special as he already thought you were.
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slaveformingi · 4 years
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You Belong To Me (M)
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READER (y/n) X KANG YEOSANG (Ateez) Genre: Smut, BadBoy!Yeosang, Angst, Slight Fluff, School Setting. Word Count: 2594 Words. Summary: You find yourself in detention again but this time, you were trapped in detention with one of the schools bad boys, who also happens to be your ex. When the teacher has to leave for an emergency, you find yourself..... well, cornered.
(Author’s Note: Fix On! Majority of you wanted a bad boy Yeosang smut so here it is! Hopefully it is up to your expectations. For those of you who voted for Wooyoung, I’ll be posting his smut as soon as I finish it <hopefully tomorrow> 
PS: I think my writing is getting worst. For some reason, I feel like my English is starting to malfunction. What do you guys think? )
## “What did I even do to deserve this?” 
Your fingers tapping on your wooden desk. Eager to leave the classroom as soon as you can.
“You know what you did young lady. Now please stop tapping the table and keep quiet.”
You let out a heavy sigh. You were in detention. Again. The reason this time is because you yelled at your teacher and called her a whore for making you run laps on the field when you told her you didn't feel like it. 
You were the girl that everyone was afraid of. You weren't a bully nor were you rough with people, you just prefer to keep to yourself. But from time to time, you would pick a fight with who you felt was trying to use you or someone who generally pisses you off. That’s one of the reason why people would avoid you and why they were intimidated by you.
The teachers couldn't tame you, the more they tried the more you rebel. Your parents had long gave up on trying to turn you into a proper well-mannered girl yet you were just to stubborn. 
You were always alone and you never thought you needed anyone, until you met Kang Yeosang.
Yeosang was a rebel, he only played by his rules. He was also part of a very violent and popular gang known as Ateez, which was known to vandalise and terrorise the town you live in. He was known to be a very good fighter, very quick on his feet. 
You both crossed paths when you both got into the same fight with some other students. He took interest in you and you ended up dating. For a moment in time, you started to become more soft-spoken and cheerful. He was the happiness you didn't know you needed. He was always there for you and he always had your back. 
That was until you discovered that he was flirting with other girls behind your back. When you first heard about it, you thought he was just messing around because he was bored or something. But then he started to do it more often, he was even flirting with girls in front of you. That’s when you thought enough was enough, you loved him with all your heart but you didn't want to risk getting yourself hurt by him. So you decided to end things with him a few months ago.
He was shocked at first, thinking that you were joking. He kept on appearing in front of your house and contacting you as if you were still together. You resorted to more drastic measures, which included kissing another guy (who was totally a stranger to you) in front of him and saying that you’ve never loved him (Which was a total lie). But it worked. You finally got rid of him.
Ever since that happened, you didn't talk to each other. You ignored and avoided each other. There were times when you noticed he was making out with other girls in front of you, which you assumed was his attempt on making you feel jealous but you hid your jealousy from him.  You went back to being your cold self. You hid your jealousy by acting strong, fighting and rebelling whenever you can. Which brought you to where you are today, in detention.
But you weren't alone, out of everyone in the entire school, you manage to get into detention with the one and only Kang Yeosang. He sat a few seats behind you, his head buried in his arms on this desk. 
(Authors note: Idk how to properly describe the position but it’s like the one where you put your head down on the desk to sleep.. so yeah, that position)
“Miss Jung, can I please leave now. I need to get ready for a date.” you asked in your sweetest and politest tone. Attempting to escape the class.
Yeosang’s head shot up, he heard what you said and shot you a dirty look. You didn't notice this because you were looking at your teacher, hoping she would let you go. Yeosang’s hands turned into fist, he didn't like the thought of you going out with someone else.
“I’m sorry y/n, but you still have 2 hours of detention left.”
You sighed and stared out the window. Your brain searched for ideas on how you could escape the class. You didn't actually have a date, you just wanted to leave the room before Yeosang does. 
Suddenly the PA speaker boomed ; “All teachers please report to classroom 8B for an emergency meeting with the school board. Thank you.”
You couldn't help but smirk. It was as if someone had heard your pleas. 
“I need to go, you can leave now but both of you will have to replace another 2 hours of detention tomorrow.” 
With that your teacher packed up all of her stuff and rushed out of the room. You could hear the sound of her heels running down the main hall.
“Finally.” you said as you slipped out of your desk and dashed to the door to escape the class, but before you could step out of the classroom, you're hand was pulled back and the door was slammed shut.
You groaned in pain as you pulled your hand back. Your body was suddenly spun around and the next thing you knew you were facing Yeosang.
“What the fu--” 
“Where do you think you’re going, y/n.” Yeosang’s eyes were full of anger and hatred.
“Out.” you replied nonchalantly as you crossed your arms.
“What's his name?”
“What do you mean?” you asked innocently. 
“Who’s your date?!” he snapped. You smirked, you knew you had pissed him off.
“Why do you care?” you asked “I don’t need to tell you anything.”
Yeosang kept quiet, you could see the rage in his eyes. He roughly shoved you against the wall, you could feel your back hitting the hardness of the wall. You moaned in pain before you shot him an annoyed look.
“What the fuck Yeosang?!”
“You’re not going anywhere.” he said, his face was serious.
“You don’t fucking own me.” you said staring into his eyes. 
“You belong to me!” he yelled at your face as he pushed your back to the hard wall again, trapping you between his hands.
“Fuck you Kang Yeosang.” you said as you grabbed the collar of his school shirt and pulled him closer to you. “I can go anywhere and everywhere I want. With whoever I want.”
You both stared intensely at each other before he let out a growl and crashed his lips into yours. You gave in to the kiss. You could feel him smirk against your lips. You closed your eyes as he pulled your body close to his, your hands started to roam his body.
“You’re mine and you know it.” he spoked against your lips and slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hands sliding down your waist, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Missed me?”
You shrugged your shoulders with a smile. He let out a small chuckle before making his way to your neck, planting small kisses. He soon found your sweet spot and started to suck on it. A moan escaped from your lips.
Yeosang smirked again, he let go go you for a moment and went to the classroom door to lock it. You laughed as you grabbed his hand and pulled him back into a kiss. He smiled, kissing you back as he held onto your waist. 
Your fingers slowly made their way to his jacket, sliding it off him and leaving him in his shirt. You kissed his his jaw and moved your fingers played with his hair.
He moaned before pulling your hoodie off and letting it fall to the floor. You attacked his neck, sucking and kissing it earning a moan from him. You unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his slightly toned abs, your hands slid over them.  
Not wanting you to be in control, he pushed you up against the wall and slid his hand between your legs, playing with the hem of your underwear. His hand started to roam between your inner thighs. You instantly squeeze your legs together, trapping his hands between your thighs, inches from your throbbing heat. You both stared intensely at each other, he ran his thumb along your thighs, trying to get you to open up for him.
You bit your lip as you gave into him, spreading your legs open to let his hand free. You realised that you missed his touch, you miss his voice, you missed every single thing about him. It didn't matter that you were in class and that someone could catch you both, all you could think about was how much you wanted Yeosang. You felt yourself getting wet. He looked at you before running moving his fingers upwards.You let out a small moan as they landed on your underwear. A smirk appeared on Yeosang’s face.
“We need to be quiet.” he whispered your ear.
His hand began to move, his eyes were locked on yours, waiting for your response. His hand began to rub more fiercely, causing your breathing to get heavier. You tried your best to keep quiet but you didn't know if you could contains your moans any longer.
He moved away from the wall and grabbed your ass, lifting you up and carried you to a nearby desk. You grasped the edge of the desk to keep yourself steady. Yeosang moved your underwear aside and you felt his fingers coming in contact with your heat. The cool air hit you, making you more aroused.
“I’m going to fuck you on this table so hard that you won't be able to walk anymore.” he whispered in your ear.
He ran his fingers around your entrance, his thumb flicking your clit. He was teasing you. You felt a knot in forming in your stomach, your body was becoming numb. Yeosang slid two of his fingers inside of you, making you jump. 
“I’ve barely started yet you’re so wet for me already.” 
He thrusted his fingers deeper inside you. You bit down your bottom lip, trying to suppress your moans. You watched as pulled his fingers out and brought them up to his mouth, his lips wrapping around them, taking in your taste.
“I almost forgot how good you taste.” he said with a smirk on his face. 
He slipped your skirt and underwear off in one go and threw them across the room. You got up from the desk and pushed him against it. You planted kisses all over his torso as you made your way down, carefully stopping above the waistline of his pants.
“You know I hate being teased babe.” Yeosang groaned.
You smirked as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs. You tossed it to the pile of clothes that was already on the floor. You looked down at his boxers, you could see his bulge. He let out a groan when you pulled his dick out of his boxers.
His dick was thick and throbbing in your hand. You licked his tip and Yeosang’s eyes instantly shut. You began to pump your hand around his shaft as you dragged your tongue around the tip of his dick. His pre-cum started to lick as you kept on pumping him.
“Oh god, y/n.” Yeosang groaned as you took his dick into your mouth, taking as much of him as you could.
“Fuck babe.” he moaned as you swirled your tongue around his shaft.
Your head starting to bob up and down.You could feel him starting to twitch against your cheeks. 
“Fu--fuck, st-- stop.” He demanded as he pulled your head up. In one swift motion, Yeosang switch places with you and lifted you up on to the desk.
“Yeosang.” you moaned out his name as he started sucking on your clit. Your hips bucking towards his mouth as you wrapped your legs around his neck, pushing him forward so that he could give you extra friction. Yeosang moaned against your clit, sending vibrations in your body. His tongue deep in you. You started to tremble when you felt your orgasm coming.
“Nuh uh uh.” He said as he pulled away from you, flipping you into a doggy style position, “You can only come when I’m in you.”
Yeosang parted your legs. He lined his dick to your entrance, teasing your clit with the head of his dick. 
“Please Yeosang, I need you right now.” you begged. 
Yeosang smirked as he pushed himself inside you. You moaned as you feel him starting to thrust into you. You forgot how big he was, you felt as if he was about to rip you into half. His balls slapping against your ass, his hands were on your breast as his brushed his thumb over your nipples. You arched your back, writhing under him.
“Omg Yeosang!” you moaned, not able to contain your nosies any longer. He loved the fact that he made you feel good. He trusted harder and faster into you, hitting your g-spot every time. You could feel your orgasm coming.
“Fu-- Fuck babe, you feel so-- so fucking--- good.” Yeosang said in between thrusts.
“I’m clo--close.” you moaned out, your walls tightened around his dick. He groaned at the feeling of it. 
“Yes babe, I want to feel you come all over my dick.” He says as he picked up his pace.
“Fu--Fuck!” you moaned out. Your orgasm hit you and your vision goes white. You could feel Yeosang’s thrust getting sloppier, he was close. You felt him twitch inside you. His eyes were clenched shut and his head was tossed back.
“Fuc--Fucking hell babe.” Yeosang groaned as he released himself in you. He thrusted into you a couple more times, riding his high before pulling out of you. He plopped down on a nearby chair, not even looking at you. Once you caught your breath, you picked up all your clothes and started to get dressed. 
“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked as he caught your arm and pulled you back to him.
“I have a date remember?” you said teasingly.
“Screw that guy.” he said as he kissed you passionately. “You belong to me and to me only.” you let out a small laugh. He cupped your chin and made you look at him.
“I’m sorry I went around flirting with other girls. I really love you, y/n. With all my heart. You are the first person to make me feel this way and I was honestly so scared at first, so I decided to become a dumbass and fuck around with other girls. Truth is, you are my weakness and I love you so so much. I know it’s going to be hard but can you give me a second chance? Can you please forgive me. I don’t know wha---”
Before he could continue rambling, you pulled him into another kiss.
“I forgive you Yeosang and I’m willing to give you a second chance.” you said, his eyes immediately lit up. “But...”
“But?” Yeosang asked with his head tilting.
“But if I see you running around and flirting with other girls, I will take things into my own hands and cut your balls off.” you said threatening him.
Yeosang let out a laugh before pulling you into a hug.
“I promise I won't babe.”
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valkyriesryde · 4 years
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Release the Hounds {2/?}
Chapter Two: The Meadows
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Pairing: Persephone!Steve Rogers x Hades!Reader
Chapter Summary: The three judges of the gates of the Underworld are Hades link to Olympus. They help her rule over the souls and Steve knows it’s his first option to reach out to her.
Warnings: ? I don’t think so, bit of religious talk but that’s every chapter lmao
Word Count: 1760
A/N: A little insight to the Underworld, see if you can guess which MCU character the judges are! 
Series Masterlist ~ Masterlist
~~~~~~~
The Underworld is no place for the living. Stories of it are whispered around Olympus and the mortal world. Stories of pits of lava and torture around every corner; of screams and pleads for mercy that carry out and sound like a melody to those who work there and especially the one who ruled it. Rarely was her name spoken aloud, rarely was she called anything but ‘the Queen’ or ‘her’ or ‘she’. Some were brave, the ones that didn’t  fear the consequences of their words. They called her ‘Satan’ and ‘the Devil’ they spread the rumours that everything she walked on had the life sucked out of it. They talk of her as if they would never meet her, she never set foot in Olympus anyway they thought, but they were wrong. Eventually everyone meets the Queen of the dead, everyone ends up on Charon’s ferry and meets with the judges.
Everyone finds their way to the meadows.
That's right, the meadows. There’s no rivers of lava, there are no deep dark caves that souls never come out of again. The sun rises, and then the moon follows him. There are birds and yes every spider that has been mercilessly killed for taking residence in a child's room. There’s flowing grass and a slight breeze no matter the weather. The fields sit alongside each other.
Elysium field, a meadow flush and green, littered with statues of heroes and beasts that have fallen. Bodies frozen in time, gifts from Medusa in exchange for the freedom of her soul. Those that reside are the best of the best, heroes who died in war, Heracles and Perseus, the men and women who risked their lives for a cause of men in power. They lived in the meadow of heroes. Those who led a life of charity, the ones who redeemed themselves more than they ever needed. This is where they resided. Rhadamanthus walked slowly, the grass slipping through his fingers and the wind, warm and moving through his silver hair. This was the meadow he looked after, every morning Rhadamanthus walked through the field and made sure the souls were at peace, he listened to their stories and laughed at their jokes. It was clear that he was favored by them, he’d formed friendships with the souls in the Elysium field.
On the opposite end of Elysium field lies the pits that the olympians fear, Tartarus, and for good reason. Gods don’t die, they bleed but never die. That does not mean they cannot pay for their crimes. The Titans know this too well. They are the pleas for mercy the gods talk about. The screaming of anger, to let them go or face their wrath. But Minos puts them to sleep. He spreads his wings and he stands above them where they cannot reach. He is her second in command. He is the one she trusts most to do the task nobody wants. He keeps the Titans at bay and he is the final vote when the souls come to the gates.
Between the good and the bad sat the Asphodel Meadow, where the majority of souls resided. It was larger than the others, cramped in places where generations of families had found each other. It was the queen's favourite place. She didn’t look over them, but every morning she sat with them, she walked through the meadow and felt them around her. Aeacus always joined her. She helped souls find their family, she helped them understand what was happening to them. She listened to their stories and knew every soul by name. Aeacus was kind hearted, her smile rested the ones that got restless, however if any stepped out of line she was not afraid to set them in their place.
That was what the gods really feared. It wasn’t the pit, well, it was, but that wasn’t all it was. They feared their power. Hades’ power was secret, she hadn’t used it to its full extent since the war, she refused to. The gods were in fear of what could cause her to snap. They feared Rhadamanthus and the power he must have to keep up with the heroes. They feared Minos, for if he can keep the Titans at bay who’s to say what he could do to a lesser god. They feared Aeacus because none knew how she managed to keep so many souls under her control.
Steve wanted to know what was so terrifying. He watched them in the market, for once a week they came to Olympus to gather supplies and hold meetings on Hades’ behalf. His hand in his pocket as he gripped the letter that he’d written. Bucky had some points and given the time to sleep on it he realised he can’t just go straight to Hermes to get to the Underworld. He needed to be allowed there, he needed an invitation, a reason to go to Hermes to get safe passage. So he wrote her a letter.
He watched them in the corner of his eye, picking at the fabrics in the storefront and trying to get the courage to talk to them.
“It’s rude to stare.” A voice came behind him and Steve felt a chill run down his spin and the smell of soot around him. He felt a mix of emotions, strength, calmness, and power seeped through him as he turned around and faced the three judges of the Underworld.
“Lay off him, everyone stares at us.” Aeacus chimed and she smiled sweetly at him, she was the source of the calmness. Minos was power, his arms crossed over his chest, pushing his biceps out and the wings on his back twitching as if he were on guard. That left Rhadamanthus, strength, it made sense to Steve, that strength would be associated with the Elysium field. But he didn’t look strong like Hephaestus or Zeus, his strength was mental and destructive and Steve felt his own sense of destruction rise within him. Good gods do not destroy things his mother’s words rang in his mind.
“He wants to talk to us,” Minos narrowed his eyes at Steve and he felt small under his gaze like when he was younger, the letter now crumbled in his clenched hand.
“I have a letter for Hades. I was hoping you could pass it along.” The three looked between each other before back at Steve and the men puffed their chests. He saw a glint of red out of the pockets of Aeacus’ coat and gulped.
“We don’t associate with Demeter,” Rhadamanthus snarled.
“Tell your mother to go to Thor if she wants something from Hades.” Minos turned and began to walk away with Rhadamanthus but Aeacus stayed put.
She tilted her head at Steve and held out her hand to him. Slowly Steve placed the letter in her open palm, slightly crumbled but written in neat writing on the front ‘Hades’.
I write this letter to tell you about the happenings within the walls of Olympus. Poseidon Loki has raised the possibility of you joining the council and a proposition for a vote has been put forward. They plan on holding a debate about the matter in two weeks time.
I only know about this from overhearing conversations and my mother’s complaints. She is determined to not let you back onto Olympus grounds let alone into the council. I think this is wrong. At the very least you deserve a say in the matter. I understand you refuse to come to Olympus currently because of the stigma against you and so I want to, if possible, change the people’s opinions of you.
Or at least, if you allow me to, speak on your behalf at the debate.
I know you and my mother do not get along and I want to make sure you’re aware that she has no idea I’m doing this. But I believe you deserve a say and I think the council would benefit from your input as a whole.
Yours,
Steve, god of spring
~~~~~~~~
Steve’s home was much what you would expect from the god of spring. It sat on the outskirts of Olympus, easy access to the mortal world which he and Demeter visited often. During the day he tended to his gardens, he sat in his gazebo and drew, he imagined a way of life where he didn’t have nymphs coming to check on him every hour. Where he had freedom to roam where he pleased.
His thoughts were interrupted by the ruffling of leaves, it was only half past there were no nymphs due and he knew Demeter had gone out. Steve was on guard, his hand snaked under the blanket beside him for the dagger he kept close. And then it popped out, a small doberman with one floppy ear and its tongue hanging out its mouth.
“What brings you to my garden small guy?” he picked up the puppy who immediately situated himself on Steve’s lap and looked up at him. Steve noticed the red collar around his neck, “Spot?” and the dog’s tail started wagging, then he saw the small rolled note above the name tag, delicately placed in the collar’s clip.
God of Spring,
You’re brave to write to me. Not often do I receive letters from Olympus let alone from sons of those that live to work against me. Thank you for your letter and the information it possesses. But there is nothing that can be done.
The council will meet, they will decide and my fate in their presence is not up to us.
Thank you again for your concern, myself and the Underworld appreciate it any time we are thought in such a way as you think of us.
Yours,
Hades, Queen of the Underworld and god of the dead
“She doesn’t want to fight?” He looks between the letter and Spot, the letters on his nametag shifting and morphing into something else, Greek, ‘Cerberus’ it read. “She sent her trusted companion to give me this, why would she not just ignore it?”
Steve had to know more, he needed to convince Hades to meet with the council or at least sit in on the debate in two weeks. He wasn’t going to be able to convince her through letters. That’s why he found himself in Hermes closet, plucking a pair of winged sandals from the floor and hiding them under a pile of his clothes until nightfall. A small daffodil sprouting from where they once sat.
~~~~~~
Chapter Three: Nothing More to Say
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
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