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#and have an entire half planned out au that I’m obsessed with
readingwriter92 · 2 years
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Also can we talk about the fact that I got *myself* into James Bond by mentioning goldeneye in a fic I wrote.
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mint-yooxgi · 1 year
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{4} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader
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Yandere AU & Dragon AU
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Jongho)
Words: 4,905
Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: I know I keep saying this, but I'm super excited for you all to see what I have planned for this series. There’s a bit more plot drops in this chapter, and mentions of things still yet to come, so I really hope you like it! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Mini Masterlist
Nothing but the sounds of the forest surround you as you trudge through the bush. Your footsteps are quick, even, not daring to make a sound. Years of practice has made you able to tread cautiously through every situation and terrain, not even the exhale of your breath falling on prying ears.
This is how you are able to lose Jongho.
The male silently curses himself for trailing so far behind that you manage to slip his sight. He didn’t want to chase you away, but now that he knows what you are, he’s sure that you’re purposely doing this just to throw him off of your trail.
Oh, how right he is.
Lifting his head up slightly higher, he strains his ears, doing whatever he can to scent you in the air. His eyes dart from left to right, pupils blown wide in the darkness that encompasses the forest around him as he searches for any indication as to where you might have went.
He’s not going to give up so easily.
You, on the other hand, lessen your pace as soon as you’re positive you’ve thrown him off of your trail. Now, instead of there being a small sense of urgency to your steps, you allow yourself a breath of relief. Slowly, you continue the trek towards your little lookout spot. A lookout spot that is the most guarded place in this entire village. A fact of which you have ensured every year since she has been resting there.
It takes you half an hour to reach your spot, but once you do, you feel a weight almost lift itself off of your shoulders. Stepping out through the trees and into the half-moon clearing, a sorrowful smile tugs at your lips.
“Hello, My Love,” your voice is tender, nothing more than a soft caress on the wind. “It’s been a while.”
A silence settles around you, as still as the night blanketing the forest. Though, you have come to never expect a response from her. Not anymore.
You blink, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes as your gaze lands upon the small stones stacked one on top of the other. The grave marker sits directly in the centre of the little clearing, more pebbles spanning the edge, and evenly spaced outwards for protection. Each enchanted to hide what lies within.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to return,” you continue, footfalls suddenly shaky as you approach the monument. “You would not believe the week I’ve had.”
The clearing overlooks a small valley, the mountains surrounding it on either side. You can see clear across the fjord from here, the lights of the town across the way twinkling beneath your gaze.
A special place where the two of you would spend hours talking, getting to know each other, and subsequently falling in love. Until she was taken from you all too soon.
Softly, you lower yourself onto the ground beside the tower of stones. Your cloak fans out behind you, back turned to the woods as you spend your time speaking all about the events of the past month.
Before you know it, an hour has passed. Then another, and then another. Enough time so that when you gaze up at the moon, it has now travelled to the opposite side of the night sky.
Still, after a while, once you’ve finished talking, you remain. Sitting in silence has often been your fortitude during tough times, and it makes no difference now.
“Oh,” you chuckle after another moment, “I almost forgot.”
Slowly, you place the palm of your hand in the grass before the tower of stones. Closing your eyes, you focus your energy, feeling the spike of magic in the air as you mumble an incantation under your breath.
Daisies begin to sprout from the earth beneath the palm of your hand and all around the clearing.
“Happy Birthday, My Love.” 
The first tear of the night finally escapes your eyes as you gaze back out upon the valley before you. Swallowing thickly, you straighten your spine, resting your arms over your legs which you have crossed beneath you.
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, softly, you begin to sing.
Your voice is no more than a whisper on the wind as you repeat the lullaby she had taught you all those years ago. It’s a little rough, given how long you’ve gone without performing it. The added fact that your emotions threaten to choke you out at any second makes it all the more harder to keep going.
That’s when you sense him getting closer.
Immediately, your lips clamp shut, steadying your breathing to blend into the sounds of the night. If you’re lucky, he should walk right passed you without even noticing a thing.
Unfortunately, luck does not seem to be on your side as of late.
The moment Jongho reaches the edge of the tree line, he freezes. A furrow pulls at his brow, eyes darting everywhere around the seemingly empty clearing overlooking the valley before him.
Funny, he could have swore he heard your voice on the wind coming from this direction.
A few minutes pass like this, with you gazing warily over your shoulder at him as he seemingly scans the clearing over and over again. Perhaps he believes you will suddenly appear from thin air, or perhaps you’ll pop up over the edge of the cliff. Either way, he doesn’t seem to want to leave any time soon.
That’s when you’re letting out a small sigh. A sound of which you know he hears, for he stills immediately, his heartbeat suddenly thundering in your ears.
“You sure are one persistent dragon, I’ll give you that.”
The moment your voice reaches him, his eyes are once more darting around the area, attempting to spot you to no avail.
“Do you Halas always make it a habit to disobey orders?” Even though you know he cannot see you, you quirk a brow in his direction.
“I can hear you, and if I focus, I can smell you.” He comments, gaze looking straight passed you for the moment and at the spot you’re sure he thinks you to be standing. “Yet, I cannot see you. Why?”
You sigh once more, standing back to your feet as you wave a hand in a small sweeping motion in his direction. Instantly, the one barrier you have shielding you from unwanted, prying eyes falls, and he nearly jumps back in shock as you appear before him.
It takes only a second for his gaze to dart around the area, lingering briefly on the tower of stones that now rests beside your one leg.
“No dragon I know of can do that,” Jongho blinks, a sense of wonder shining in his eyes. “Not even the ancients.”
“There are various beings other than dragons that reside among us, boy.” You reply, quite sharply, watching him carefully.
“Are you even a dragon at all?” The question posed is innocent. At least, in his mind.
Your eyes flash. “Watch it, boy.”
“You have magic akin to none,” he blinks, gazing around the clearing once more before inhaling sharply. “You’re a witch.”
You remain silent, observing him carefully as you stand as still as stone.
“I never knew a dragon could also be a witch.” He says. “You’re-“
“What?” You snap, eyes sharp as you tense. “A halfbreed? An improper inbred? A curse amongst us all?”
You can tell Jongho is taken aback by your words.
“Save your breath, I’ve heard it all before.” You mutter. “Been quite a few years, though. Usually all people care about now is how powerful I am. Rather, how powerful I can make them.”
“Who?” His eyes flash gold, a snarl pulling at his lips as if he’s ready to hunt down any and all who have said such things against you, or dared to use you in any way.
“That is none of your concern, now.” You reply bluntly. “Those who have tried, have failed. Every. Time.”
Your words also serve as a warning to him. One which he picks up on.
“You think I would use you?” Jongho cannot hide the hurt in his voice.
“I do not know what you are capable of, Jongho.” A slight shake of your head. “Nor do I have any intentions of finding out.”
“Please, if you would just let me explain-“
“I thought I told you that I never wanted to see you again.” You cut him off, a stern look resting on your features.
“You know I can’t do that.” He keeps his voice low, steady as if he’s attempting to reason with you.
“And why is that?” You raise an eyebrow expectantly.
“Do you really not know?” For a brief second, his expression falls, eyes flashing with sorrow.
“You are not the first dragon to imprint on me that I have denied, nor will you be the last.” A cold statement as you blink back at him once.
“I wanted to be.”
“What? My first, or last?” There’s a slight amusement to your voice as you stare across the clearing at him incredulously.
“Both.” There is no hesitance in his reply, and at the way his eyes shine, you can tell just how honest his admission is. “I thought you were human.”
“You were meant to.” Your hands shift slightly beneath your cloak, fingers gripping the edges and pulling the material tighter around yourself. “You Hala’s sure have plenty of vain ambition to go around.”
He ignores your comment for now, but you can see the way his chest deflates at the mention of his clan.
“You knew I was a dragon this whole time, yet you said nothing.” He remarks. “Why?”
“Many of us have our own reasons as to why we hide our true nature. When you approached me that day in the woods, all I saw was a lost boy who was running away from his duties. I see now you weren’t the only one deceived.” You tilt your head in understanding. “As far as anyone else from the village is concerned, I am a simple girl living on the edge of town who sometimes helps around here and there. Only a very select few people know who I really am.”
“Right,” his jaw twitches. “Like the Neos.”
“Watch your tone, boy,” you snap, eyes sharp. “That is my family you speak of. The only people left on this godforsaken planet that I still care for.”
“Is that why you care for this village so?” He inquires, a bitterness to his words. “Because they reside near it?”
“Would you not do the same to protect your own?” You counter knowingly. “Your loved ones?”
“I would protect you and my brothers in a heartbeat.” He replies without a second thought.
“You hardly know me, yet you put myself before your clan.” You observe. “Are you truly that young that you have never imprinted before?”
The fact that he remains silent is answer enough.
“Tell me, Jongho,” you shift your stance, gazing down almost longingly at the tower of stones before you, “have you truly never been in love before?”
“I thought I was,” he replies. “Once.”
“You thought you were?” You spare him a glance out of the corner of your eyes, a curious twitch to your eyebrow upwards.
“I never knew what love truly was until I met you.”
Your gaze hardens. “You do not know me.”
A moment’s pause.
“I want to.”
“You do not deserve to.” You frown, noticing how a few fireflies begin to buzz throughout the clearing.
“You didn’t take issue with befriending me before.” He goes on to say, tone edging on pleading. “Nothing has changed. I have not changed since you have discovered my clan. I am still your Jongho.”
You shake your head. “You were never mine, Jongho, nor have I ever desired you to be.”
“Would you be saying the same to Kun if he were here right now?” The hurt is clear on his face and in his words as he spits them out in anger.
Your eyes flash as your spine straightens. “You do not know what you speak of, boy. Don’t you dare pretend that you do.”
“The father of your cubs abandoned you to imprint on someone else, and you can stand there defending him?” Jongho asks, incredulously.
Your heart pangs in your chest, unwanted memories surfacing that you force down once more.
“He did not abandon me. We were never even together in the first place. I-“ you stop yourself short. Pursing your lips, you take a deep breath through your nose. “Kun did not father my cubs.”
“Then who did?” Jongho is practically seething at this point, fists clenched tightly at his sides. “I’ll tear him apart for abandoning them. For abandoning you.”
“You seem so certain that I’ve been abandoned.” You tilt your head curiously. “How do you know you’re not standing upon his grave at this very moment?”
Jongho goes unnaturally silent, inhaling sharply as you watch remorse immediately paint his features.
“No, those cubs are not my own. None of them are, but that does not mean I won’t care for them like they are.” You say, meeting his gaze and watching how his whole body seemingly relaxes at your words. “I can never bear cubs of my own. My father made damn sure of that.”
The shock on Jongho’s face is apparent in the way his lips part the slightest bit. He blinks at you, subtly taking a step forward only to be blocked by the barrier cast by the stones.
He frowns. “Why can I not reach you?”
“Are you forgetting that I am still upset at you?” You quirk a brow, amused by the pout that pulls at his features. You shake you head, motioning to the pebbles surrounding the area with your chin. “Only people I have granted permission to walk upon this spot may pass the boundary stones. You’re lucky I’m even letting you view such a private part of my life, given everything going on.”
“Yet, you cannot trust a Hala dragon.” He sighs, somewhat sadly.
“I do not trust easily, Jongho,” your tone is sharp as you answer him. “What little trust I had in you has long since been destroyed.”
“Then tell me what I can do to fix it.” He persists. “I want to make things right.”
You remain silent, lips pursed as you meet his gaze.
“There must be something I can do to prove myself to you,” he begs, eyes pleading. “Please. I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” You quirk a brow.
“Anything.” He confirm, honesty dripping from his words.
“Then tell your clan to give up on your quest for the crown.” You once again see his eyes widen in shock. “It is fruitless, and vain. You will not succeed.”
“So, what? We’re just supposed to let that stupid Wolf Gang win?” He scowls, crossing his arms over his chest.
“They will not succeed, either.” You state with a blink. “No one can. It is pointless.”
“The ancients have agreed to allow the clan which finds the Jewel to rule over the kingdoms in tandem.” Jongho explains, as if you haven’t been told and taught this your whole life. “Out of the ashes, an imperfect Jewel shall emerge, proclaiming the true leaders of the land.”
“I am sick and tired of that damned prophecy.” You spit, ire shining on your features as you tighten your cloak around your shoulders. “Too many have taken it far too literally. Like that hot headed brother of yours.”
“Mingi is just hoping to speed things along.” Jongho attempts to defend his own.
“So, you all allow him to decimate people’s homes after completely destroying their villages.” A statement, not a question. “And you wonder why I do not like you Hala’s all that much.”
“The Wolves are no better.” Jongho mutters, brow furrowing in distaste.
“I have spoken of this before, but at least they do not burn their conquered villages to the ground.” You retort.
“You seem to like them better than us.” His eyes narrow.
You remain silent, opting not to comment on his accusation.
“They never cross to this side of the fjord.” He continues, choosing his next words carefully. “Is that also your doing? I know you were discussing some other treaty you seem to have with that Neo last week-“
“All you need to know is that I will protect this village with my life.” You cut him off. “You are not the first clan I have defended it from, nor will you be the last.”
“They tried to hurt you?” He growls, teeth bared in a snarl.
“I have not had dealings with them for almost fifty years now.” You reply. “Christopher is much better at keeping his promises, it seems, than your leader is.”
“Christopher?” The distaste is clear on Jongho’s features, the name no more than a feral whisper on his lips.
“Also, better at controlling his clan.” You add, cooly.
“Don’t pin this on Captain. He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“So, you regularly break the trust of people you claim to care about.” You observe, nodding as if everything makes sense to you now.
“No, that’s not-“
“What is it that you want, Jongho?” You cut him off, a tired sigh escaping your lips. “It’s late, and I would rather not have you follow me all the way back home.”
“I thought I made it clear.” Comes his gruff reply.
“I heard you loud and clear the first time.” You bring a hand up to rub at your eyes, cloak slipping open the slightest bit to reveal your thin cotton shirt and trousers beneath. “I mean, what is it that you really want?”
The material pulls against your skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. A fact of which Jongho takes immediate notice of, eyes darting down to trail over your torso shamelessly. The plump curves of your flesh have him swallowing thickly, mouth watering as he desires nothing more than to pull you in closer to him. To wrap his hands around you and hold you flush against him as he breathes you in, your scent finally mixing with his in every way that he’s always fantasized about.
Of course, you notice.
Your cloak is wrapped tightly around your torso once more.
“I just want you.” There is no malice in his words, only a desperate longing lingering there as he meets your gaze. “I swear to you I had no idea what you were when I first approached you all those months ago. Even now, what you are does not bother me, nor do I have any desire to use you like you have implied so many others before me have. I swear to you I am not like that. I have been nothing but honest to you since we met. The only thing I kept from you was being a dragon because I didn’t want you to be scared of me, but I know now that never mattered to you. I cannot change my clan, but I swear to you that I remain the same.”
You can only blink at him for the moment, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows yet again.
“I-“ he pauses, as if unsure whether or not he should continue. Then, as if deciding against his better judgement, he steels his resolve, staring deeply into your eyes. “All I want to do is cherish you. I want to protect you until the end of our days, of which I swear to you will be plenty and prosperous. I will never hurt you, nor will I ever let anything hurt you again. I desperately want to be yours, just as badly as I would like you to become mine.”
Saying nothing, you feel yourself tense.
“I promise you that we’re not as bad as we seem,” he continues. “The reason I came to you that night, the real reason, was because I wanted you to join us. I longed desperately for the day where you would come live with me, so we could be by each other’s side where I know we belong. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever again, because I will do everything in my power to take care of you. I will provide for you, and make sure you always feel cherished, desired, and loved until the end of time. You never have to be alone again.”
A silence settles over the both of you as you let his confession linger in the air. You even take the time to search his eyes, and you cannot find a hint of dishonesty in them. Even the tone he used, you cannot find fault with, his words ringing through your ears with the heavy honesty that painted his tone.
The fireflies float lethargically through the air around you, twinkling like the stars in the night sky. You sigh, sparing a glance at your feet as your eyes slip closed.
A faint, tender caress brushes at the side of your cheek, and you’re quick to wipe it away.
“I do not trust you, Jongho,” you begin, and you watch his expression fall, the devastation clear as anything, “but,” he perks up, even if only slightly, “I will give you a chance to prove yourself to me if what you have spoken here tonight is true. You do not know me, nor do you know what I have been through. I do not give out second chances easily. You are going to have to earn it.”
“What can I do?” He attempts to take an eager step forward once more, only for that barrier to stop him dead in his tracks. “Tell me what to do, and it is done.”
“If you cannot convince them to stop this pointless quest for the crown,” you sigh, “then I want you to get that canary man to stop burning down every village you ransack. There is no honour is complete destruction. Every good leader should know that.”
“I suppose your village doesn’t count?” His attempt at a joke does not bode well with you, a low growl leaving your lips. He raises his hands in response, palms up. “Okay, my bad. I’m sorry, that was too soon.”
“Tell me, Young One,” you turn back to the tower of stones beside you, “are you aware of what a Drygg Promise is?”
The sharp inhale you hear in response is all the confirmation you need.
“Do not fret, I do not expect you to make a sacred promise of that sort to me,” you hum.
“I would if you wanted me to.” Comes his immediate reply.
This time, it’s your turn to look at him in mild shock before you’re shaking your head.
“I will not expect that from you unless it comes to it.” You reply softly. “They are a dragon’s deepest, and more sincere form of loyalty to whoever is apart of it. They are not easily broken, nor should one ever seek to break one. In most cases, they are unbreakable.”
He nods gently along with your words. “I understand.”
“I have made quite a few Drygg Promises in my lifetime, but none of them are as important to me as hers.” You shift your gaze from him back to the stones piled at your feet, a tender look shining in your eyes.
“Who is she?” The question he poses is soft, nothing but an innocent inquiry as he sees the way sorrow fills your expression.
“She was My Daisy,” you smile faintly, slowly sinking to your knees as you reach down and pluck a delicate flower from the ground. “And we built this village from the ground up. She was beautiful, and headstrong. Carried a passion for all living things, but especially flowers. A passion which rubbed off on me.”
“You made a Drygg Promise with her.” He repeats your words from only moments before.
“I did.” You hum in confirmation, twirling the stem of the flower between your thumb and forefinger. “I swore to her to always protect this village until my dying breath, and I have not once went back on my word.”
“There are stories,” he adds, lowly. “Stories of a cloaked figure with glowing golden eyes that protects this village. A Shadow Demon, of sorts.” He takes his time to look over your dark cloak, watching as your head turns and your eyes flash gold in the moonlight. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Very perceptive, Young One,” you smile lightly, and you swear you hear his breath hitch. “You would be correct.”
“But I don’t understand,” he shakes his head slightly. “Why would you make such a promise to this woman?”
“Well,” you let out a long breath, standing back to your feet after placing the flower carefully on top of the stack of rocks before you, “people tend to do crazy things when they’re in love.”
This time, there is no denying the way his breath hitches. “You loved her?”
“I did.” You nod once firmly in conformation. “You never forget the first lover you imprint on.”
“You imprinted on her?” The surprise is clear in his voice, eyes wide as you meet his gaze.
“I’m sure you are aware that we can imprint more than once, and with multiple people if we so choose.” You state, blinking a few times.
“Yes, I am aware,” he confirms with a brief nod of his head. “I just didn’t realize you had imprinted on someone before.”
“I have already told you that I have been around a lot longer than you have, Jongho.” You remind him. “I have loved and lost more than once in my long life, just as I have imprinted more than once.”
“Was it Kun?” His voice rumbles out, words a mere growl on his lips.
“We can fall in love without imprinting, boy.” Your eyes narrow, arms crossing over your chest. “He wanted to imprint. I denied him, and once I realized what I truly wanted, he had moved on. I was not the only choice he had, and he’s better off for the one he made.”
“How could anyone not choose you?” He practically seethes, eyes glinting beneath the moonlight.
“You are blinded by your emotions, boy.” You sigh, shaking your head. “Some dragons do not want to wait an age to find their life partners. I cannot blame them for that.”
“I would.” The sincerity reflected in his golden eyes catches you off guard. “I would wait an eternity if it meant I got to be with you even if it was for just one day. You are not a second choice. You never will be. At least, not to me.”
The way the fireflies dance around his head, illuminating his features even more has your breath hitching subtly in your throat. Never have those words been spoken to you so earnestly before tonight, and even though you wish to deny it, a warmth begins to blossom inside your chest. One which you have not felt in years.
You clear your throat. “I have already told you more than I am comfortable with this night. Much more than I should have.”
His eyes shine with something you do not quite understand, but you do not fail to miss the pleased rumble that echoes around the small clearing.
“I’ll talk to Mingi,” he hums, the corners of his lips tugging upwards faintly.
“Ah, the canary man.” You nod in acknowledgement.
“I’m sure I can convince Hongjoong, too.” He mumbles, more to himself this time, but you still hear.
“Jongho,” your voice calling out to him has his attention immediately on you once more. “One more thing.”
“Yes?” He answers, failing to hide the way his eyes glimmer with hope.
“Stop spying on me through the bush,” you shoot him a pointed look, and he at least has the decency to look sheepish. “I have never appreciated being stalked.”
“I wasn’t-“
You raise a hand to halt his protests, his voice dying in his throat as you begin to walk towards him and to the edge of the clearing. Though, at the way he sees a faint, teasing smile tugging onto your lips, his shoulders seemingly relax.
“Keep your brothers out of my backyard as well, will you?” You come to stand right in front of him now. 
So close, yet still feeling so far away; nothing more than a barrier separates you. A barrier of which he wishes to smash through, pulling you into his embrace as he showers you in his love like he has always longed to do.
“They do often have minds of their own,” he sighs, but at the look you send him, is quick to add, “I will try.”
You smile. You actually, genuinely smile at him, and Jongho swears he nearly faints from how quickly his heart is pounding within his chest.
“Oh, and Jongho?” You step over the barrier, moving to walk passed him in the next second as he hums in response. You pause, mere feet away from him with your back still turned, his gaze locked on your figure. “Thank you for the flowers.”
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the-cult-of-riley · 15 days
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Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Four)
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC
[[Masterlist]]
A/N: The wedding is here!!!!
Thank you once again to everyone showing love to this story. It’s nowhere near done but my brain is getting antsy. I have like a billion Ghost stories I wanna write, some I've started already, some mere ideas in my pesky brain. I’d love to hear which ones you guys are most interested in first. I can’t list all of my ideas here because it would take too long but some of the ones I’m doing are;
-Ghost/OC/Soap story. MC is on the task force.
-I don’t wanna call it an alpha/omega story because the MC is human, but it's kinda along those lines with mates and stuff. But it falls into obsessive Ghost and reluctant (at first) MC. If you think this Ghost is pussy whipped for Lottie then… lmao just wait and see bby.
-a sunshine/grumpy trope story. Ghost absolutely wants nothing to do with her but she's so cute and ridiculous and happy and she worms her way in anyway >:)
-mediaeval ish story. MC is the princess, Ghost is a knight.  
-an actual alpha/omega story. Our poor little omega is traumatised and Ghostie takes care of her.
-Zombie AU story. Deals with some pretty dark and depressing shit.
I have more ideas but those are the ones pinging around my brain the most and some I’ve already started. Don’t be shy to let me know.
The wedding dress and the lingerie for reference.
I actually managed to pick a song that wasn’t the usual bands lmao My brain allowed it because good ol’ Greg here is the singer from The Dillinger Escape plan, who I believe our Ghostie listens to lololol
Greg Puciato - Heaven of Stone
In the earth below with
Nowhere else to go
I know that we'll belong
Set free from all the wrongs
In eternal gardens
Fallen flowers grow
I've held you all along
In heavens made of stone
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‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’ Simon tried to remember who said that, if he remembered right, it was Aristotle. Made sense though, didn’t it? Maybe that's why he’d spent most of his life miserable, feeling cold and empty like a haunted house. Maybe that was why he always felt like something was missing. He’d been only half of a soul, floating around like a wraith, trying to find his other half. Now he’d found her, had her stumble right into his life and now he knew he could never look back. He felt whole, he felt complete, he felt like everything was right and the world made sense.
Despite these feelings, he was greedily sucking nicotine from a smoke, his second in  less than fifteen minutes, as he sat perched on the wall outside of the courthouse. To say he was feeling nervous would have been a gross understatement. He wasn't having cold feet, in fact Tommy had been stunned by the lack of cold feet he’d shown all morning. He’d never been more sure of anything in his entire life, he knew he wanted her to be his wife. But he was nervous for a lot of other things, the variables in this scenario, the things beyond his control. Just as he hated that bullshit out on the battlefield, he hated it in his personal life. He loved to be in control, it meant he was less likely to get hurt, a feeling he’d been subjected to far too much as a child. He’d vowed never to feel that vulnerable again. 
What if she was the one having cold feet? What if she decided she didn't want to marry a tosser like him? What if she decided she didn't want marriage at all? What if she decided she was bored of him and that she didn't want to be with him full stop? What if she didn't turn up? What if he went home and all her stuff was gone? What if, what if, what if? Too many thoughts, too many feelings and he was trying to calm himself down by chain smoking. 
“You're gonna get lung cancer before she even gets here at this rate,” Tommy huffed from next to him, snatching the pack of smokes out of his hand and pocketing them. Simon glared at him, stubbing out the end of his cig before flicking it into the bin not too far away. 
“I’m fine,” he grouched and Tommy eyed his leg that was anxiously bouncing before raising a smug brow at him. “Fuck off,” he huffed and Tommy snorted.
“It’s okay to be nervous, Si,” he murmured and Simon ran a hand through his hair in agitation.
Lottie would be here soon and he wished she’d just turn up early, to see if she would in fact turn up or if his life was about to quickly go down the shitter. 
“What if she doesn't turn up?” he asked, his voice so quiet with the shame of his admission. Tommy glanced at him, a sympathetic smile on his face as he clapped Simon on the back.
“She will turn up,” his simple answer just annoyed him and he heaved a sigh, glaring at him. “She thinks the world of you, Simon, anyone with eyes can see that. She’ll turn up. If anything, she’s probably panicking just as much as you right now. Probably convinced herself you won't be here,” Tommy said quietly and Simon knew he wasn't wrong. He knew his girl so well and she was probably working herself into an even bigger tizzy than he was. He just hated this anxiety, hated being away from her like this. He knew she loved him, his nerves were just getting the best of him. 
Tommy’s phone dinged and he glanced at it, grinning before he stood up.
“Come on, arse wipe, up you get. They’re on their way,” he beamed at him. 
Relief flooded his system then, knowing she was coming after all, Beth and his mum in tow after helping her get ready. He wondered just what she’d look like walking down the small aisle of the courthouse. 
He was wearing a suit, nothing too fancy, just a simple black and white suit that he’d worn to Tommy’s wedding. He’d contemplated getting something fancier, something just for this occasion, but Charlotte had told him to do what he wanted, whatever was comfortable for him so this is what he chose. He wasnt much of a suit person to begin with and he didn’t want to waste money on something that made him so fucking uncomfortable. He felt he scrubbed up decent enough anyway. 
He followed his baby brother into the courthouse to await his bride and his stomach felt like there were a million roaches inside, all squirming around trying to get out. He felt sick, breathing slowly so he didn’t fucking pass out and make a right knob of himself while he waited at the end of the aisle. The officiant was an older man, a kind face who had been nothing but nice and polite to the boys since they arrived. They all stood waiting for the girls to arrive. 
There wouldn't be music, the wedding march or anything of the like as she walked in. They could have requested it but she’d said no. He'd been a little surprised that she wanted a bare bones wedding like this but he hadn’t minded at all. He tended to agree with her though, weddings were shite. He just wanted to marry her. 
He heard the door start to open and he stood taller, as if standing to attention in front of his commanding officer. As the doors fully opened, he felt like all the breath got stolen from his lungs. The feeling was so reminiscent of when they first met and he never would have thought back then that he’d wind up making her his wife. 
She was an absolute vision and his throat constricted painfully as he couldn't stop staring at her, eyes unblinking, not wanting to miss anything. The dress suited her perfectly, the lace as delicate as she was and he felt his eyes prickling with unshed tears as the emotion overflowed inside of him. His mum was linking arms with her, giving her away as she had no parents of her own. He remembered how hard Lottie had cried when his mum had offered, remembered how he himself had cried no matter how embarrassing it might have been. 
Beth was behind them, holding the train of the dress in one hand, the other arm having an almost one year old Joseph perched on her hip. He was wearing fucking suit and everything. Little man looked proper dapper. 
His mum led Charlotte to him and his girl was staring at him with wide eyes and a tentative smile. After a pat to the arm off his teary mum, she sat down with Tommy, Beth and little Jo following along. He couldn't take his eyes off Lottie though as they stared at each other. Her brown waves were up in some braided updo thing, a few waves framing her face. She was perfect.
“You look like an angel, love,” he whispered reverently, his voice thick with emotion as he grasped her hands. She blushed, that pink looking so pretty on her face as she smiled shyly. Always acted like he was complimenting her for the first time. He never tired of making her blush, he loved that he could still have that effect on her. 
“You look so handsome, Si,” she murmured, making those moon eyes at him as if he’d hung the moon himself. Fuck, he wished he did. He’d do anything she asked of him no matter how impossible the task. 
He wanted to keep going on about how beautiful she was, wanted to kiss the gloss of her perfect lips, wanted to do a lot of things, but then the officiant started speaking.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Charlotte and Simon in marriage. This ceremony marks the beginning of their journey together as husband and wife,” he started and Simon felt the anticipation thrumming through his entire being. His eyes were still glued to his girl, even when he heard his mothers sniffle from her seat. 
“Charlotte and Simon, today you come before us to express your love and commitment to one another. Before we proceed, do you both affirm that it is your intention to enter into this marriage willingly and with full understanding of its significance?” he asked and Charlotte smiled up at Simon in a way that rendered his heart to mush.
"We do," they both answered and it made his lips tug up as he squeezed her soft hands gently.
“Excellent. Charlotte and Simon, marriage is a sacred bond, a union founded on love, respect, and mutual trust. It is a promise to stand by each other through life's joys and challenges. It is a commitment to support and uplift one another, to cherish and nurture your relationship each and every day. Now, Charlotte, please share your vows with Simon,” the officiant said with a warm smile. 
He could tell she was nervous, felt her hands trembling against his own. He expected her to pull out a piece of paper with her vows on, like his own that he’d stuffed in his pocket. Vows he’d agonised over and rewrote a billion and one times because no words could ever be able to sum up what he wanted to say to her. She didn't seem to need to read her vows though, apparently she had it all stored in her head.
“Simon… from the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you. You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I’m grateful for every moment we've shared together. You’ve changed me as a person, for the better. Made me see I’m worthy of being loved. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me but I’d love to spend the rest of our lives trying,” she started with a wobbly voice and shiny eyes. His chest felt heavy, like a weight bearing down on him as he suppressed the urge to cry like a right mard arse. He gave her a watery smile and she gripped his hands tighter. 
“I promise to stand by your side through thick and thin. I promise to support you, to encourage you, and to be your partner in all things. I vow to listen to you with an open heart, to laugh with you in times of joy, and to comfort you in times of sorrow. I choose you today and every day for the rest of our lives,” she murmured earnestly and he had to blink rapidly to quell the onslaught of tears threatening to break through. 
“Thank you, Charlotte. Now, Simon, please share your vows with Charlotte,” the officiant smiled. 
Simon swallowed thickly, one of his hands leaving Lottie’s so he could retrieve the little piece of paper in his breast pocket with a trembling hand. His breathing was shaky and he tried to calm himself, didn't want his voice to crack.
“Charlotte, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend my life with…” he hated how close to tears he sounded, how the lump in his throat got bigger with each word leaving his mouth. Charlotte gave him an encouraging smile, bringing the hand she still held up to her mouth and placing a tender kiss to his knuckles. “You’re my best friend, my confidante, and my soulmate. Today, in front of our family, I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in all your dreams and endeavours, and to always be there for you. I promise to cherish you, to respect you, and to honour you for the incredible person you are. I’m so grateful to call you my partner, and I vow to spend the rest of my days makin’ you happy,” he choked out, stuffing the paper back in his pocket before wiping his eyes quickly. The officiant looked at Tommy then and he hopped up, fishing around in his pocket before grabbing the two rings, handing them to both he and Lottie. “As Charlotte and Simon exchange these rings, they are symbolising the commitment and love they have pledged to one another. These rings are more than mere adornments; they are a visible representation of the promises and vows made here today. Charlotte, as you place this ring on Simon's finger, may it serve as a constant reminder of your love, loyalty, and devotion. Let it be a symbol of the unbreakable bond you share and a promise of your commitment to him,” the officiant said, gesturing to Charlotte and she smiled up at Simon, a heart melting smile before she slid the ring on his finger with the utmost care.
“Simon, as you place this ring on Charlotte's finger, may it be a symbol of your eternal love and unwavering dedication. Let it be a reminder of the promises you've made and a testament to the love that will continue to grow between you,” Simon’s thumb brushed over her finger before he slid the ring on, giving her hand a squeeze as he gazed down at her adoringly. 
“May these rings forever signify the love and unity you share as husband and wife. With this exchange, your lives are forever intertwined, and your journey together as partners begins anew. And now, by the power vested in me by the City of Manchester, I am honoured to pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”
Simon wasted no time, gripping either side of Lottie’s face and leaning down, capturing her lips quickly. He’d wanted to do nothing but kiss her since she’d turned up. He kept it tame, he did have an audience after all, he he tried he pour all of his love, all of his emotion into the kiss. When he pulled away, her cheeks were aflame, amusement dancing behind her pretty blue eyes as she smiled at him.
“I love you,” she murmured and he felt himself melting all over again.
“I love you too… Mrs Riley,” he smirked and her smile widened.
They stayed a little longer to sign all the forms to actually be married before they all left the courthouse. Not before his mother had clung to him, weeping into his chest at how proud she was, how fucking happy he was for him. Made his heart feel like it had grown three sizes seeing his poor mum like that about him. 
Much to Tommy’s chagrin, there wouldn't be a reception. Charlotte hadn't really wanted one and if he was honest, neither did he. All he could think about as he looked at his new wife in that dress was wanting to get her home and getting inside of her. Before they left, his mum was adamant on getting some pictures that she could print off so they’d posed for her outside of the courthouse and he didn't think he’d ever had a picture taken of him smiling quite like this.
They’d gotten congratulations from the taxi driver on their way home after parting ways with his family and Simon felt his chest puff with pride that Lottie was now his wife. His other half. She was fully his and he felt like he was on top of the world. She seemed so happy, smiling and giggling as he told her shitty jokes on the way home, clutching his arm as they made their way inside and into the lift. 
As they walked down the hallway of their apartment, he scooped her up bridal style, making her squeal before she started laughing, gripping around his neck as if she thought he’d drop her. As if he ever would. He was smiling so fucking hard his cheeks hurt and he was sure he probably looked fucking psychotic at this point. He couldn't help it though, he’d never felt happiness quite like this, never thought he would. Hadn’t thought he deserved it. Yet here she was, beautiful and sweet Charlotte, giving him every drop of love she had in her entire being and he wouldn't waste a single bit of it. 
He carried her through the threshold, gently placing her on her feet as they got indoors and he shut the door behind her. His eyes turned hungry then as he gazed at her, eyes trailing over her in that fucking dress, looking like some angel sent from heaven to tempt him. 
He stepped towards her and the look in his eyes had her stepping back until her back hit the door, lips parted, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at him. He rested his hands either side of her on the door, caging her in, knowing she loved his size and loved feeling helpless around him, little minx she was. 
He trailed his nose along her delicate throat with a hum and she let out a soft noise that had his hard dick aching in his pants. He placed a wet and open mouthed kiss on her pulse point, making her moan quietly before he leaned back up to look at her with his blazing eyes. 
“You look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” he purred and she smiled, a delighted flash glinting in her eyes. 
“Be careful of the dress, it's a rental,” she smirked, making him snort softly.
“That’s a shame, wanted to fuck you in it,” he muttered wickedly, loving how she swallowed thickly, squirming where she stood. 
“I have something better… you should take the dress off,” she murmured, looking at him all coy like and batting her lashes. 
He was intrigued and horny so he did what he was told like a good husband, moving his hands from the door to around her waist. She gasped as he pulled her flush to his chest, her hands splaying on him as she blinked up at him. His large hand slid around to her back, finding the zip and unzipping it slowly, slow enough to make her shift impatiently. 
Once the zip was completely down, his hands trailed in a featherlight touch up to her shoulders, pulling down the dainty straps there. He tugged the dress down, revealing lingerie he hadn't expected underneath. His movements became a little faster now, pulling the dress until it pooled around her ankles and he let out a deep groan, his eyes darkening. 
“You dress up for me, angel?” he asked in a mere whisper and her blush swept up her chest to her face as she nodded shyly. What a fucking sight she was like this, white lingerie with delicate straps and flowers adorning her. She’d been right, it was better than the wedding dress. His hands slid up her hips to her waist and he leaned down, nuzzling her nose with his.
“You look absolutely beautiful, Charlotte,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers and feeling her smile against him.
“You like it?” she asked almost meekly and maybe it shouldn't have made his dick even harder, but it did.
“Fuckin’ love it,” he replied breathlessly. 
He trailed hot and wet kisses from her mouth, down her jaw and to her neck, lavishing it with attention, just how she liked it. She let out a breathy moan and he groaned in response, pulling her closer to him as his hands slid around to her arse. It was then he realised the lingerie was a thong and her perfect arse cheeks were on display for him. A growl rumbled in his chest as he gave them a firm squeeze, and she moaned a little louder this time. 
“On the bed, love,” he ordered, pulling himself away from her painfully. He needed to get out of his fucking clothes so he could have his way with her before his dick fell off. She flashed him a pretty smile before they both made their way to the bedroom and she sauntered over to the bed. He watched her lay on her side, watching him with rapt attention as he started to undress. His lips tugged into a smirk at her blatant ogling so he made sure to take his time as he unbuttoned his shirt before peeling it off, his pants soon to follow. 
Once he was finally free of his constraints, he made a beeline for the bed and Charlotte rolled onto her back waiting for him. He climbed on, parting her thighs and groaning in delight at the view of her soaked cunt behind the sheer white material. 
“Look at you, all wet and ready for me already like a good little wife,” he drawled and he didn't miss how her breathing hitched at his words. Her pupils were blown wide as she watched him keenly and he slid his hands up the inside of her thighs slowly, loving how soft her skin was. He could feel her shaking with anticipation, his cock twitching at how she arched her back, trying to get closer to him. 
He couldn't tear his eyes off her, he loved her so much it felt like it caused him physical pain sometimes. He leaned down, kissing every morsel of skin he could that poked out of her body suit, worshipping her body like the goddess she was. Fucking hell, he’d give his life to her, devote everything he had in him to her. 
She was writhing under his touch, at every flutter of his lips against her skin, every brush of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. He was reverent with every touch as he made his way up her body, paying extra attention to her neck and getting a lovely moan from her. 
His lips finally claimed hers and she was so desperate for him that he felt like he might spill his load without being touched. How had he gotten so lucky? What on earth had he done to deserve such a beauty in his life that was the radiance she exuded? She was absolutely everything to him, the beginning and the end, completing him like the puzzle piece he’d spent his life searching for. 
“What?” she asked shyly and he realised then he’d stopped kissing her and was just looking at her with those soft eyes he had, only for her. He felt heat bloom high on his cheeks, in the top of his ears and she noticed because she smiled warmly at him, her fingers caressing the back of his neck lovingly. 
“I just… I love you. Never thought I’d have this,” he admitted quietly and her eyes softened, her smile widening. 
“I love you too,” she fluttered a pretty smile at him, pulling him back down and massaging her lips against his. 
He melted into her, his hand trailing down her body like some sacred object before it brushed her dripping cunt over her underwear. She gasped and he moaned, practically salivating over how needy her body was being. Part of him wanted to go all out, fuck her with his fingers, lick her pussy until she was a shaking mess, but he couldn’t. Seeing her in this pretty white lingerie, seeing her in that dress, seeing her with his ring on her finger, branding her as his… It was too much. He needed her so badly he was sure he’d die. 
He hooked his finger in the string of her underwear, dragging it from where it lay over her cunt and arse, pulling it to the side to sit in the crease of her thigh. He gripped his aching cock, rubbing against her soaked heat and she let out a needy noise that had his blood running hot. 
He sunk into her with a loud groan of relief, her own moan bleeding into his. He bottomed out deliciously and she had that pretty look on her face that told him he was filling her tight little cunt up to the brim, filling her up good. The hand beside her head was used for leverage, his other winding around her lower back to angle her better and keep her as close as possible before he started rutting into her. 
If he wasnt half gone with lust, he might have felt sorry for the neighbours as his pretty little wife started keening, clawing at his shoulders as he fucked the soul out of her, trying to claim it for his own. The legs of the bed squeaked, the headboard slamming into the wall and the room was full of obscene sounds. Their moans, the sound of their skin slapping together as he fucked her like a man possessed. 
He wanted to tell her she was his now, belonged to him in every way possible, wanted to tell her she wouldn't be leaving him ever, not if he had anything to do with it. He wanted to say a lot of things but his mouth could do little else but moan like a needy whore at the pleasure he felt. She was divine, being with her like this was a holy experience for him and it set every nerve ending in his body on fire. 
His lips crashed to hers and the kiss was messy, desperate as they both clawed and pawed at each other, chasing a release that felt higher than any other. Her hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her as she tangled her tongue with his and he could feel the cold metal of her ring on his skin, a reminder of how she willingly gave herself over to him today. They were no longer separate souls, two halves separated into two bodies. They were joined in union, tied together forever. He’d follow her even after death if it came to it. 
He angled his hips just right, brushing that spot inside of her and pressing against her clit with his public bone and the noise she let out would make a porn star blush.
“Fuckin’ Christ…” he moaned, struggling to hold into his sanity as her cunt fluttered around him 
“Don’t stop,” she choked out, her pale cheeks flushed red, irises nowhere in sight as her eyes were overtaken by her pupils. Her voice was pleading, bordering on desperate as she clung to him like she might float off the earth if she didn't. 
He didn't stop, he kept his brutal pace, sweat trickling down his temple with the effort it was taking to not fill her up, not yet. He felt the moment she came, felt her pussy grip him so tightly he was worried she’d cut off his blood supply. It felt like she was trying to suck him inside of her, trying to consume him and he’d let her. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan, guttural and primal as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum inside of her, over and over. He felt like he'd never cum that much in his life. 
They both lay there, panting and sweaty and he tried not to squash her as they came down from their highs. His lips found hers, the kiss tender, slow, loving. Her hand was on his cheek, soft and sweet and it made his chest feel tight. When he pulled away, she was radiant, glowing from the inside out as she blinked her pretty eyes at him. 
“I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” she murmured and it made the tightness in his chest worse. 
He couldn't fathom being something someone wanted, that someone would be lucky to have him. But he knew she meant it, down to her fucking bones and god if it didn’t feel good. If it didn't make him feel like he could do anything when she looked at him so lovingly. He felt like he could take on the world. He was the lucky one and he knew that, to have such a loving partner, now wife, to have someone with so much love inside of her, all to himself. 
She’d raised herself, had been starved of love and basic human decency for most of her life and she’d turned out perfect. She’d raised herself and done it right and it made Simon feel like he could take on his own demons. If she could come out of the other side burning brighter than the sun, then so could he. 
They would chase each other's demons away, make the shadows crawl back to wherever they came from. She lit him up from the inside out and it made him feel warm. Made him feel like he was actually living and not just existing. Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies and he refused to part from her now he found her.
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sammysvanfeet · 2 years
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Secret Soulmate || Part One
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Jake x Reader - Soulmate AU
Word Count: 2k+
WARNINGS: mentions of death/grieving a family member, fainting
A/N: Here's the first chapter of the new Jake series! Enjoy 💘
As a little girl, I had been told that finding your soulmate, your other half, was an experience nothing short of magical. I’d spent my entire life hoping and dreaming that there was someone out there for me. During my formative years, I had obsessed over who my person might be, what they could look like or where I would meet them. We were taught that our souls had been separated from our mate’s in our past incarnation and we were to spend this lifetime searching for them. The other half to our whole, the person that was destined to complete us. I’d spent twenty-something long years searching for mine and I hadn’t felt it, those sparks, until now. I think deep down, I knew it from the moment I saw him, he was undoubtedly the one. 
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The thick summer air was almost cloying, sweet and sticky like candy that even the gentle breeze from the coast did little to offer a reprieve from. I sat in the shade offered by the modest front porch, sticking my arm out into the direct sunlight, almost expecting that I’d recoil and burn like Nosferatu. I wiggled my fingers and made lazy shadow creatures with my outstretched hand, a childish distraction from the many things I should have been doing. The sound of an ice cream truck jingling in the distance brought me back to old times. I had lived in this cottage by the beach almost as long as I could remember. It seemed so big when I was just a tiny young thing, but it had aged just as I had. While it did not increase in size, it had become worn, cracks appeared where the foundation was previously unblemished. It didn’t hold the same wonder and promise that it had when I was a child, but I suppose that was a reflection of the way I was feeling today. 
The unwelcome sound of my mother clearing her throat took me by surprise, causing me to jolt forward and drop the novel I had planned on reading out here. I was unsure just how long I had been sitting on this rocking chair completely lost in thought, but given her raised eyebrows, hands on hips and foot tapping with impatience… it had been entirely too long.
“Y/N, can you come in and help me set the table? This dinner has to be perfect.” She phrased this as a request, even though it was anything but. We tended to get along most days, but on an occasion like today she was inexplicably high strung, a type A perfectionist who wanted to make the very best impression, and all I wanted was to escape into one fantasy or another.
“I’m sorry, I was daydreaming.” I quickly apologized, picking up my book and following her into the house. She stood at the kitchen island where she had been stationed most of the day and resumed polishing her silverware at an impressively aggressive rate, surrounded by stacks of her finest china. I inhaled the smell of the roasting chicken, and eyed the various side dishes that were bubbling and warming on the stovetop.
“Mom, is all of this necessary?” I asked, incredulously, gesturing to the state of the kitchen.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” My mother chided, still buffing away at the cutlery. “You would think that you would be more excited to see your sister for the first time in two years.”
I felt briefly guilty at my lack of enthusiasm over our reunion. It’s not that I didn’t miss my sister, it’s just that I spent so much of my life living in her shadow. Polly was beautiful and popular in high school, whereas I was bookish and reserved. She had all the attention from boys and girls alike her entire life, whereas I was perpetually invisible. She got a scholarship for an esteemed university and graduated with honors, immediately scoring a job at a prestigious legal firm. The way she was going, she was set to make partner before she would even turn 35. And here I was, still in my hometown, running food and bussing tables to pay my share of rent to my mother. I had always paled in comparison to Polly and my mother knew it, too.
“Aren’t you excited to meet her soulmate?” My mother interrupted my train of thought, twisting the knife into me even further. 
She had obsessed over and ingrained the idea of us finding our mates since we were old enough to walk. Sometimes, I doubted that there really was someone for everyone, but the way my parents had loved one another was proof enough that we all had our person out there somewhere. Watching her mourn his loss was almost more painful than the death itself, seeing her turn into a shell of a woman before my very eyes, at such a tender age, was something no child should ever have to go through. She had never recovered from the heartbreak. Perhaps it was a physical pain, an ache from their severed connection; or perhaps it was the fact that she now knew she would spend the rest of her days alone.
Of course, it was my sister who had found her soulmate first. She was only a year older than me, so you would think my time was coming, but I had never had any romantic prospects the way she had. Despite being a hopeless romantic at heart, I was starting to accept that maybe I was destined to end up going through this lifetime alone… just me and my novels. To make matters worse, I was still a virgin, even at my age. I had told myself that there was no point in exchanging my energy with someone through casual sex if it wasn’t the person I was supposed to spend my life with. I had even felt guilty the very few times I had kissed someone, their lips always felt cold and just wrong. 
Excusing myself from the tortuous conversation and my internal spiraling, I dejectedly carried the ornate porcelain plates to our small dining room and began setting a place for four. My mother carried the now shimmering silverware and placed it delicately on stark white woven napkins, smoothing out the tablecloth and smiling at our handiwork. “Perfect, just perfect!” She exclaimed to herself. She wanted to make a good impression, she was nervous… I could tell by the way she fidgeted and fussed around the table.
The chiming of the doorbell rang as if on cue, echoing off of the scuffed hardwood floors. My heart raced, beads of sweat pricked at my palms. Suddenly I felt unprepared for this moment. How was I going to feign happiness for my sister when I was surely to be filled with unbridled jealousy?
“They’re here!” Mom squealed, clapping her hands excitedly. “What are you waiting for? Come greet them at the door with me.”
My mother grabbed my arm and practically dragged me to the foyer. She released me before she straightened out my skirt and brushed her hands off on her checkered apron, taking a steadying breath. After a few more suspenseful moments, she flipped the lock and swung the heavy wooden door open, frowning at the unfortunate creaking. Once she took in Polly’s presence, she immediately began to sob, taking her perfect daughter into a bone crushing hug.
“Moooom!” Polly whined, acting as if she wasn’t eating up the attention, rolling her eyes playfully at me over my mother’s shoulder. I smiled politely in return, unsure of how to act around her now.
Mom released her, wiping away some stray tears before asking the million dollar question, “So… where is he?”
I looked beyond the front porch to the yellow cab parked in front of our home. I couldn’t make out many details at first, but I could tell he had long, brunette hair pulled back into a ponytail, sinfully tight grey pants and a breezy linen shirt. On top of his head was almost a comically cheesy straw hat. He didn’t seem like Polly’s type but who was I to judge? After tipping the cab driver, her mate approached us leisurely, hands full of luggage, whistling without a care in the world. He had an air of confidence, even from afar. I couldn't see his eyes, they were concealed behind a pair of sunglasses, but the second his lips twitched up into a smirk, I felt all the air rush from lungs. I suddenly felt warm, almost feverish. I bought the back of my hand up to my head, checking my temperature. My mother eyed me curiously at the action, to which I faked a reassuring smile. As he got even closer, I began to feel dizzy, everything was way too bright and the light danced around my vision. An aching in my head made it feel ten times its size.
“What’s happening?” I whispered to myself.
All three of them turned to look at me. Polly’s mate removed his glasses and all I could do was gaze into his honey brown irises, noting the worry in them. They were so warm and strangely familiar, I just couldn’t tear my gaze from him. His eyes searched mine in return when his brow furrowed, but I couldn’t place the source of his concern. He opened his mouth to say something, anything… but his words would not come. My sister took this as her cue to introduce her new lover, but at the same time as she spoke, my knees buckled and I found myself collapsing, fading out of consciousness slowly.
The last words I remember hearing before I succumbed to the darkness were, “This is Jake.”
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I wanted to resist the sudden pull into consciousness but something was forcing me to awaken. When my eyes had fluttered open completely, I allowed myself a moment to take in my surroundings. Above me was a golden sky peppered with the fluffiest white clouds I had ever seen. I surmised that it must be sunset by the way the sun's rays painted everything in an orange glow. I sat up slowly, taking count of my surroundings; I was alone on the bank of a white sand beach. The tide was low, just barely tickling the shore and there was a noticeable lack of sound. No laughter, no music… not even the cawing of seagulls. 
“Where am I?” I asked aloud, my voice sounding strange and distorted to my own ears.
“Ahh, there she is.” A mysterious voice startled me. I turned to find Jake, my sister’s soulmate, sitting at my side despite the fact that I was very much alone mere moments before.
“Am I dead?” I asked, pinching myself, beginning to feel frightened by the circumstances I had found myself in.
He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, “Not dead. You’ve been out for a while, though. Your mom and sister are worried about you.”
“What happened? How are you even here?” I rubbed my temples, desperately trying to find a plausible explanation for this dreamlike state that I seemed to be in.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” He sighed, looking out at the shimmering ocean, “When I looked into your eyes, I felt like we had met before. My heart started racing and I felt an ache in my head, but when you collapsed I could no longer focus on the pain I was feeling, every nerve in my body was set alight but the impulse to catch you, to keep you safe, was much stronger than anything else I have felt in my entire life.”
I reached over to pat his hand, an innocent gesture of reassurance, but when we connected, flashes of past memories and lives long lived together flickered through my mind like the most magnificent film. In the span of seconds, I felt like I had experienced decades. I could tell Jake had seen it too, by the look of stupefaction on his face.
“It can’t be.” He whispered to himself. “I don’t understand.” 
“Jake?” My shaky voice commanded his attention, “I think you’re my soulmate, not Polly’s.”
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north-blue-hearts · 7 months
Text
Family Practice
CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law
CW: sex, language, violence
Summary: Modern Mafia-coded AU starts in last semester of College
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Chapter 8 Working Out
“Alright, food’s ordered.” You say as you hang up the phone. Law’s sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in front of him. You move to join him, but hesitate for second before deciding to sit on the other bend of the sectional so you could face him.
“I hope I haven’t scared you,” he teases.
“Hardly, Pre-Med, I’m just staying in the talking lane.” You quip. “Since you said something about having things to talk about before, so… uh… talk.”
“Well, after talking with, uh, grandpa, I decided I didn’t want to join the family in the strictest sense.” Law admits and it’s obvious he’s adjusting to titles he never expected to need to use. “But Dad didn’t separate from grandpa officially, and we are blood-related, so I do want to, at least, be around.”
You’re not sure what to say, ask, or interject with you, so you take a sip of tea.
“To help with that he’s going to help set me up with my own clinic in the Metro.”
“That’s good news.” You admit feeling half the tense muscles in your body and heart relax.
“Yeah, I wasn’t really sure how I was going to ask you to move to Dressrosa to date a guy you’d barely known for two months.” Law says and you nearly choke on your tea.
“Please tell me you’re not, I mean, no, you said it was because of Pops, but…” Suddenly the tea was a little too warm and you needed another cold glass of water. “Okay, but I mean I’m the strange person that approached you on campus out of the blue and this was not the expected outcome.”
“Mm, and forgot to mention that the Charlotte family was a Family.” He reminds you, taking another drink.
“Hey look, but that wasn’t entirely – I mean, who says ‘oh hey yeah by the way I have extensive knowledge about The Grandline Metro and surrounding areas’ underworlds’ when they’re trying to help someone?” You demand. “You’da looked at me like I had three heads and stormed off, and then where would you be? Betrothed to Nutmeg, and it wouldn’t have taken Big Mom long to sort out the blood connection either, she’s obsessed with bloodlines.”
“Were you planning on joining his Family?” Law asks, and you know what means.
“… No.” You take in a deep breath and sigh. “I’d be welcome to, legally and illegally, I’m sure, but once I graduate I’ll finally be able to see if I can make it on my own. Turns out a lot of my friends either own, or will own, their own businesses, and I want to work for them. I like working, or maybe I just like being useful, but if I can help them, and make money for myself, then it’s a win-win situation.
“Nothing against Pops or what him and the boys do, and I’m not trying to be all straight arrow because of my bio dad either. I mean, it’s not like I have a strong sense of government-dictated morality as it is.” You admit.
“Good.” Law says and you tilt your head as you look over at him. “It would feel weird to date you if you were legally or otherwise related to my grandfather.”
“Pfft- hahaha! I hadn’t even really thought about tha—hey wait. Wait, on the roof you asked me if we were related, were you… I mean… when… when did you, uh?”
“When did I realize I’d fallen when I didn’t mean to, or when did I realize we were going to have to talk about it?” Law offers, giving you a look from the corner of his eye.
“Both… I guess.” You suddenly find yourself interested in your teacup. You weren’t used to feeling shy like this, but confessions in middle school and high school were different from this.
“Will you sit beside me, if I tell you?” He asks. “I promise to protect your delicate sensibilities.”
The jab makes you laugh and breaks some of the growing tension. You get up and move to sit by him when he spreads his legs and pats the space between.
“Promise.” He repeats, a small smile softening the gaze in his eyes.
“Being a little shy?” You ask, sitting between his legs, your back to his chest.
“Maybe,” he admits, leaning forward just enough to lean against you a little, his hands reaching around and threading through yours. His chin was almost at your shoulder and his voice was smooth, warm air barely tickling your ear. “A week after we first met I had a dream that we went to the opera. I’ve never been (Y/N)-ya, but I could see every detail of the theater, the play, the soft shuffle of your dress and the way your hair laid against your shoulders with otherworldly elegance.
“When I woke up I was frustrated it was a dream, and I couldn’t figure out a good reason to get tickets to an opera just to be able to invite you.” You lean back into him a little as he speaks, or maybe he’s pulling you in, you’re not really sure which, but the words sink into your heart.
“At the bonfire festival I wanted to tell you, but it seemed like you had a lot on your mind. I didn’t want to add to it when you didn’t have the means to avoid me if you needed time, and so, after Marco interrupted us I tucked it away, and after I realized we might be related I was ready to bury it entirely.”
“We’re not related.”
“We’re not. Not even on a legal-but-not-blood basis.” He adds, and this time when he hugs you closer to him while still holding your hands, you know it’s him that is pulling you in. “I can’t promise I’ll have a lot of time to give you, at least not while I’m trying to establish the clinic, but -.”
“I’ll be busy too.” You interrupt, letting his arms wrap around your shoulders. “I’ll be able to adjust when you have time, but it’s not like I’ll be sitting around waiting for you. Plus, I could help at the clinic.”
“You have a medical background, nurse (Y/N)-ya?” He questions with amusement.
“I have practical skills,” you assure him, as there’s a knock at the door. As you get up to get the food, you smile. “I grew up in a Mafia household, I’ve stitched the boys up more times than I can count. Stitched myself a couple times too.”
“Stitched yourself?” Law was almost stammering and you wished you could see his face as you opened the door to pay for the food. Coming back in you started putting everything on plates.
“Yeah, Luffy and I had gotten nasty cuts at the same time, we took a tumble off a path and both caught the same illegally dumped glass bottle.” You explain as you’re making plates for the two of you. “Luffy was kicking up a fuss that it hurt, so I took one of the suture needles from Marco’s bag, cleaned my cut like how I saw Marco clean Luffy’s, and then just stitched it.”
You laugh, catching the look on Law’s face. “Marco made that same face. I was, I think, ten at the time. Anyway, Luffy refused to fuss after that, and Marco started teaching me more so I could help properly.”
You set the plates down on the breakfast bar when Law’s left the couch to come sit at the more comfortable table. Stepping back from the bar you lift your pant leg.
“See? Just below my knee?”
He leans over and looks. “It’s almost straight, that’s impressive.”
“That was lucky.” You admit, coming back around the kitchen and sitting beside him. “But yeah, I’m not a surgeon, and I’m certainly not a family doctor, but I’d make a decent field medic.”
“Well, I might end up in need. I don’t know if Sachi, Penguin and Bepo will be willing, or even able, to move to the Metro with me.” He admits as you begin to eat. “Not that they would’ve been with me in Dressrosa either, at least not right away. Sachi and Penguin are planning on traveling around after graduation and Bepo’s hoping to get in with Zhou Marine Institute.”
“Oh, you guys were going to be going your separate ways for a while no matter what then, huh?”
He nods. “We’re good friends, we’ll keep in touch.”
“That reminds me, do you mind sharing your workout schedule?” You ask after a moment. “After that embarrassing display from Sanji’s to the hotel I realized I needed to get back into an actual routine again, and it’s easier with people than on my own. Besides, even if it is for just another few months I’d like to hang out with Beeps.”
“Beeps?”
“B-P-S – Bepo, Penguin, Sachi – Beeps. You know, like how people call DPS in video games, deeps.”
“… Did you just collectively nickname my friends?”
You stop and look over at Law with an unsure expression, trying to gauge if he’s feeling negatively or positively about the whole thing, and after realizing you can’t read his face or his tone, you just answer honestly.
“Yes.”
There’s a soft grin and a chuckle. “You really do nickname everyone.”
“I mean, everyone I give a shit about.”
“What’re you going to call me when I’m not Pre-Med anymore?”
“Doc?” You tilt your head a bit and then shake your head. “Nah, I’d call you that if we weren’t dating, but I need something better.”
While you think on in, Law answers your original question. “I’ll write out the schedule we have for now, but schedules change next semester, so we’ll have to rework it in a few weeks anyway. We’ll include your schedule into things from the beginning so there shouldn’t be any that you’ll miss due to classes.”
“I know, Dr. Heart Stealer!” You say triumphantly, and immediately start cackling when you see the look on his face.
“Absolutely not.”
. . . . . .
After eating you and Law talked a little bit more and he, rather reluctantly, left for the evening. You admit you watched him from the hallway ledge outside your door all the way to his car. The idea of being twitterpated as you approached your mid-twenties made you laugh, but you had seen Thatch act the fool over a lady before, and he was almost ten years your senior.
Because it was still technically break for another two days, and then a weekend, you were able to meet up with everyone the next day to exercise at a gym. They didn’t go to one on campus, but just off campus, and it was really close to your apartment complex, so it worked out well for you.
People with a membership could have a guest, so you didn’t have to sign up for a membership you were only going to need for a handful of months.
“Is there someone you prefer to pair up with?” Law asks with a grin as you all get into the gym.
“Ah haha, no.” You laugh and shake your head. “I’m not here to throw your usual groove off. You guys do what you usually do. I doubt I could keep up yet anyway. I’m just going to work out in the same vicinity.”
“Make sure you take breaks, we’re going to be here a while.”
“Yeah, yeah, triathletes the lot of you, I’m sure.” You say, and you’re not really being sarcastic.
You weren’t surprised that the four of them paired up even to help one another with stretches. You were a little surprised at how hard it was to not look at Law while he was even just stretching. You already knew he was agile and flexible – he had to be to keep up with you when you took him to your bonfire perch, but seeing the backbone of that skill was something different.
Most of what you trained that day was your own will power, but you did get a decent workout in. You realized you were going to have to step your game up if you were going to keep up with these four in any way shape or form. They didn’t exactly have “leg days”, they were all doing full workouts top to bottom, and you imagined some of that had to do with the fact that none of them had time enough to exercise every single day.
At one point Penguin waved you over closer and explained that they needed your help for a second.
“So Sachi has decided to challenge the Cap’n,” he starts explaining. The first time one of the others had referred to Law as the Captain you had found it odd, but apparently he was the team captain for their track and field in high school and the title had simply stuck with the other three. At this point it didn’t even sound weird anymore. “A pushup battle.”
“Pushup battling at the end of almost two hours of working out?”
Penguin leaned in and whispered. “Sachi took it easy today, so he thinks he has an advantage.”
“Ah.”
“But regular pushups aren’t much of a battle, so we need your help.”
“Eh?”
“I’m going to lay on the Cap’n’s back and you lay on Sachi’s.” Penguin explains. “You and I are closer in weight than me and Bepo, so it’s the only way to make it fair.”
“These handicaps aren’t going to help Sachi.” You state flatly, understanding why you’re not going to be – thankfully – laying on Law’s back in public.
“Not even a little, but it’s cute when he had hope like this.”
You can’t stop yourself from laughing as you come over to where Law and Sachi and Bepo are.
“If this was between Law and Bepo I could at least just sit on his back.” You lament a little as the two contestants get into position. You watch Sachi get onto Law’s back so you have half an idea what to do before laying on Sachi. “If you lose strawberry, you’re gonna owe me.”
“Eh? Eh?! What do you mean?” Sachi starts to question you, but Bepo starts the match, and you start counting.
The match doesn’t last long, four minutes in and Sachi’s already struggling. He got ahead of Law in count for a minute, but the pace he was trying to maintain was too much, especially with the added weight of another human body.
Sachi gave in and you gave him a pat before getting up. “Nice try strawberry, but you gotta work on your pacing.”
“Penguin, can I like, pseudo challenge you?”
Penguin was just getting off of Law as you asked and he looked at you for a second. “Sure?”
“I don’t want to put anyone’s honor on the line, I’m just curious where I stand.”
“Oh, yeah, sure thing.”
You and Penguin lined up side by side and you started matching his pace. It was obvious after fifty that you weren’t going to last much longer, but you were glad to see Penguin start to struggle around the same point. You pushed to 70 before you just let yourself flop onto the mat, and Penguin just straight up stopped at that point.
“You said,” Penguin was gasping, “you were – outta shape.”
“I… am.” You admit, rolling onto your back to catch your breath.
“S-seventy pushups, after all that… heck… exercising, is not out of shape.”
You laugh a little, but you’re too winded for it to be much more than your body shaking. “My ego thanks you.”
Law’s tattooed hand reaches down as you move to get up and you let him practically haul you to your feet. “See, you’re not as out of shape as you thought.”
“Indeed, I’m just dating a machine, apparently.” You say with a smile and you hear one whispered curse and two soft gasps from behind you. “… hadn’t said anything yet?”
Law shakes his head, but he doesn’t look bothered.
“You said it wasn’t that kind of Winter Break Vacation, captain!” Sachi was nearly in tears.
“It wasn’t.” Law insisted.
“He’s right, we… er… I mean, nothing happened until we got back.”
“You got back last night!” Sachi was practically hissing the words, trying not to yell in the gym.
“You’re… not wrong. Are you okay Sachi, you seem a little stressed.”
“He figured he’d be the first to get a date this year.” Penguin explained. “Captain started turning down everyone once he became a post-grad-.”
“And he still managed to go on a date last year.” Sachi was actually crying now.
“Er, yeah, but so, he thought he had a chance.” Penguin finished explaining.
“… Maybe I really should nickname you Idol Doctor when you get your PhD.” You muse looking over at Law who has most of his face hidden behind his hand as he’s currently pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’d rather you call me Traffy.” He practically growls.
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wolffyluna · 1 year
Note
primes for the published writing meme
And this is where we get to answer the fun question of 'can Wolffy remember what numbers are prime off the top of her head?'
1. which of your fics is your favorite? why?
Ten of Swords, because of how big it is and the ratio of original stuff:canon stuff. I put a lot of work into it, and I’m proud of it.
3. is there a fic whose concept you like, but wish you could do over?
A Shattered Angel and A Broken Fist is one of my first attempts at a long fic, before I learned that I really need to go in with a plan, lest I get very, very stuck.
There’s some cool stuff here! I just have no clue where I was going with it, and I know my past self didn’t either!
5. which of your fics deserved less attention than it got?
Sometimes. Just sometimes.
Your most popular fic is a kinkmeme fill that has OVER 10,000 HITS just because it is Overwatch porn.
7. are any of your fics strangely sentimental?
Always Neater In Morality Plays, because it was a gift to my ten year old self.
“Wolffy, isn’t that the one where Taako gets poisoned? And you accidentally pissed off a bunch of the TAZ fandom because you didn’t know what ‘snuff’ meant?” Hey, I never said I wasn’t a strange ten year old.
11. which three of your fics do you think best exemplify your work?
(answered here!)
13. if you had to pick a fic to make half as long, which one would you choose? what would you cut out to make it shorter? why that one?
Hmmm. It’s Just Walking Pneumonia If You’re Still Walking Around? I thiiink I got rid of all the ‘Kuzco’s poison. The poison for Kuzco,’ but I’m not entirely sure. I’m also not sure if all the subplots add that much to it, unfortunately.
17. do your fics send you back to certain memories? which ones?
Always Neater In Morality Plays.
Most fics don’t? I often honestly forget the circumstances I wrote them in after I finish them. Source: I went “I bet I could find the fics I wrote during lockdown” and nope. No I can’t. I definitely know I was weirdly productive during a couple of the lockdowns, but I can’t find any fic evidence of this?
19. which of your fics almost didn’t get published and why?
9.78665 m/s/s almost didn’t get written. “I know I could write for this pinch hit, but I couldn’t include literally all the things they requested, so maybe it’s better if I don’t take the pinch hit” before I knocked some sense into myself about how they presumably didn’t expect someone to include all of the things and would be happy with some of the things.
23. are any of your fics awaiting a sequel you haven’t announced?
Sequels are for people who don’t obsessively outline :P
lay aside disguise might be getting a spiritual sequel in the form of a modern au fic, though.
27. which of your fics has the most hits? do you know why?
Sometimes. Just sometimes.
Your most popular fic is a kinkmeme fill that has OVER 10,000 HITS just because it is Overwatch porn.
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chryzure-archive · 2 years
Note
SIREN AU WHERE CHRYSI IS IMMUNE TO JACKS'S VOICE WHICH BOTH ANNOYS AND INTRIGUES HIM (Bonus points if Chrysi is a pirate 👀👀)
how is it that you always know when i’m thinking about certain things? because i was definitely thinking about pirate!chrysi 👁👁 knock it off with the clairvoyance.
THAT SAID, SIREN!JACKS IS INSPIRED. YOU’RE SO SMART. i never even considered that aspect, and it makes this concept all the richer.
i looove the idea of jacks getting chrysi’s ship to crash (everyone on the ship under his spell while chrysi’s scrambling around in the storm, rain lashing at her face and her hair whipping in the wind, trying to tie down the very-clearly-charmed crew mates so they don’t cause any additional harm) and he succeeds…. at least, succeeds in pissing off one of the most formidable pirates on the seven seas. he… did not consider this outcome.
it didn’t take chrysi long to figure out there was a siren nearby charming her crew—so she does something very, very foolish in her attempt to save them.
she makes a deal with jacks.
he’s mildly irritated that his initial plan didn’t pan out, but one look at the very pretty pirate captain + her immunity to him, and he’d do anything to appease her. well, sorta. he does still demand something for his kindness.
he wants chrysi.
gag. disgusting. ew. also, she refuses on principle.
when he claims that he can simply make her follow through on this initial deal, she replies with, “but my gun is very handy, you are a very tempting target, and my entire crew is currently lashed to anything i have nailed down. you’ve got no cards to play.” (pun is intentional)
jacks is annoyed because she’s right.
very quickly, this deal turns into not a deal. jacks reluctantly lets chrysi and her crew go as chrysi holds him at gunpoint.
she very quickly gets her crew to safety and proceeds with all her pirate-y actions of before. this goes swimmingly (lol) for a couple of months!
issue: there is a certain elias bloom kicking around.
he’s not a pirate himself, but he is a… “collector”, if you want to be polite about it. as a result, he interacts with many, many pirates. never has he been able to meet with chrysi one on one before, but he is deeply fascinated (*cough*obsessed*cough*) with her.
the thing is, elias bloom knows that chrysi’s not exactly just a famous pirate captain. because he knows that chrysi’s family is actually royalty and chrysi’s the youngest half-sister.
yikes.
so he wants to add chrysi to his collection, in a sense. it would be a rare addition—this magical, wicked pirate captain who is also a secret princess? it’s the jewel of them all.
because, yeah—in addition to elias collecting cursed items and rare artifacts, he collects living beings. he doesn’t often feel the urge to marry them (or never, really), but he wants chrysi just as much as he wanted everything else.
this results in him hiring people to try and kidnap chrysi :) haha. ha.
her crew puts up a good fight (everyone is so dedicated to chrysi bc she’s a decent person, despite being a pirate! her ruthless legend comes more from her killing off rival pirates that are cruel <3), but in the end, chrysi is knocked out and taken off the ship. everyone in her crew is kept alive (despite elias being a fucking idiot and trying to kidnap chrysi, he’s not stupid. he knew that if he killed any of her beloved crew, he’d be doomed. besides, they’ll make for good bargaining chips in the future—he has another team coming to take her crew into captivity).
chrysi is not a happy camper when she wakes up in the brig of an enemy ship. for a while there, all of her escape attempts fail—it’s almost like the crew of this ship knows about her abilities. the thought sends a chill down her spine. not even her own crew knew about that.
(elias bloom knows just about everything about chrysi)
FORTUNATELY FOR HER, this ship ends up treading the same siren-infested waters that chrysi did a couple months back. it doesn’t take long for her to hear that distant song that almost spelled her own doom a while ago—and this time, she’s overjoyed to hear it.
while it takes a while for it to take total control over the crew, it does make them more susceptible to suggestion—especially chrysi’s suggestion. so when she sweetly asks for the key to the hold, she’s given it.
she’s out of captivity before she knows it—and by then, the spell has been woven over the ship. it’s sailing for a bunch of very shipwreckable rocks.
now things are a little more dicey for her. and it’s not made any easier by the captain and his first mate getting the chance to stick earplugs into their ears before jacks’s spell overtook them.
they get into a bit of a scuffle when chrysi sees the familiar form of jacks in the rocks.
he sees her too. he’s both annoyed by this and also feeling a little bit like this is some divine providence. she escaped his grasp before—now he can take her life, like he meant to from the start.
that’s why it surprises him a little when chrysi calls out and asks if he wants to make a deal, like they were supposed to before. but hey, he’s not going to turn her down. he’s a little curious to see what she’ll say this time—because she certainly looks like she’s going to follow through with the deal, unlike the last time she mentioned a deal.
she says she’ll let jacks take the ship—she doesn’t mind that at all. in fact, her only request is this: make them hurt all the way down.
normally, jacks charms people into a blissful death. but this intrigues him further.
he agrees, if he can have chrysi.
it feels a lot like she’s going from one captor to another, but she figures jacks can’t be as bad as elias bloom (correct, but also—how embarrassing is it, that a siren that regularly lures people to their deaths in the rocks isn’t as bad as the most annoying guy in the entire world?). so chrysi agrees.
unfortunately, the captain (although he can’t hear) can tell there’s something afoot. when chrysi goes to jump off the ship, he tries to shoot her in the leg to stop her (elias was very clear about chrysi being taken alive, but he didn’t say anything about her being hurt).
his shot goes wild and it hits chrysi in the middle of her back. it pushes her off the ship anyway.
this does not endear the captain to jacks at all. how many times does he have to try to make this deal, only to lose the girl?
needless to say, he makes all their deaths hurt in the way chrysi requested. then he dives in and finds chrysi drifting in the waters, blood clouding the water around her. he has to scare off a couple sharks, then takes one look at her wound and figures that he has something that might help that. and, oh right—humans need air to breathe.
jacks brings chrysi to the surface and hopes it’s not too late.
(how inconvenient that his kiss would kill her. if he had been a merman, then he’d be able to bestow air to her under the water with a kiss. oh well.)
jacks then nurses chrysi back to health. it takes her a couple days to wake up, but even then, she’s delirious and feverish. jacks managed to stop the bleeding and heal it, somewhat, with his magic, but he couldn’t stave off the infection that came along with it. she’s in and out of consciousness for a while, shivering.
(jacks rlly should’ve been smarter about this and taken chrysi further away from the surf—the spray of the ocean is not going to help warm her up. eventually, he resigns himself to use the magic to shift him into human form, even though he prefers the company of the ocean, in order to take chrysi further inland. it’s still in a cave, and it has an underwater cavern that links to the ocean, but its miles better than where he had her before)
when chrysi wakes up, jacks has actually grown fond of her. until she throws something at his head.
he very kindly reminds them of their deal and that this is just the way it’s going to be, princess. chrysi’s like “how the fuck did you know?” and jacks is like “wait, huh??????” it was jst a nickname… why did she have to get so defensive over it?
anyway, they spend a lot of time here—chrysi’s regaining her health, and jacks is getting a little more accustomed to his human form (when chrysi’s like “so… uh. legs. 👁👁 didn’t know you could have them” jacks explains that it takes a lot of energy to be in human form + he only does it to kiss girls in the town and absorb their energy when he hasn’t been able to feed off of any shipwrecks. chrysi’s like “oh. cool. shame it takes so much energy to have legs. 👁👁” and jacks realizes that chrysi likes legs. huh. okay. cool. he doesn’t know why it makes him blush, but it does.)
while she and jacks are having their romantic buildup, elias bloom is having the worst fucking day of his life. he thinks chrysi’s gone for good, and he is furious. now he has her crew captured for no reason! he’s about to start killing them when he gets word of the siren that was responsible for the shipwreck has been seen.
in a fit of rage, elias demands the siren be captured and brought to him. as another part of his collection, he says, but anybody can tell that he wants to kill the siren with his own two hands for the loss of chrysi.
this is very, very unfortunate for jacks, who has since become enamored with chrysi. she doesn’t exactly feel the same, but she doesn’t hate jacks anymore, at least. she’s taken to exploring, in an attempt to build up her strength again, and to combat her boredom. jacks will sometimes follow in the water, along the coast as she explores around (it’s beginning to hurt to keep himself in human form, but he likes the way chrysi will look at his legs, so. that’s that. he needs to feed soon though, so he can keep up his strength). it’s like a date.
anyway, one day, chrysi slipped into the pool of water in the cave when jacks surfaced and, after one thing and another, they end up kissing. this is when jacks realizes that chrysi’s immune to his fatal kiss. which OKAY!!! he’s now firmly in love with her.
(he didn’t realize how fatal a mistake he was making, when he let himself fall in love with her)
their happiness doesn’t last forever :(( that crew elias sent out manages to get close to the rocks when jacks is away, so they aren’t charmed to their deaths.
they find chrysi on one of her explorations and, in failing to find the siren but actually finding the girl that elias wanted from the start, they decide to kidnap her and bring her to elias.
she puts up a good fight—making enough noise to draw jacks’s attention as he’s coming back. but he’s too late—she’s stuck on the ship before he can do anything. by the time he gets close enough to charm the crew, they’re in the middle of the ocean and he can’t ram them into any rocks. he tries to charm them into drowning themselves, but they all still have their earplugs in. after all, elias warned them of the siren, and even though they couldn’t capture it, they’re still going to be cautious.
jacks can only helplessly swim after the ship and pray that he can save chrysi.
elias is very pleased by the turn of events when chrysi is the one brought to him. he worriedly inquires if the siren did any lasting damage to her. she can only seethe.
jacks, similarly, is seething. even though he’s under the dock and he knows he could charm elias to his death, the original crew is still wearing their earplugs. they’d kill him before he could get chrysi back.
chrysi ends up being stuck in captivity again as elias tries to seduce her. she continues to turn him down, so he tries to trick her into openly using her powers so he can manipulate her a little more fully (he’s got a cursed item or two that help with that). she still refuses.
he finally gets sick of all this dancing around the issue and informs chrysi that he has her old crew locked up.
that gets her attention.
she furiously demands he lets them go, to which he obviously declines. he says he’ll give her a couple days to think on it, and lets her have a little more freedom in his mansion while she ruminates.
she explores the house restlessly, but she feels most at home by the man-made lake (which, she is informed, is connected to the ocean, for a fresh supply of water. whatever. she would rather be on the ocean.)
FORTUNATELY, jacks found his way in a while back, and has been waiting for chrysi to make her way to the lake for a while. when she shows up, he reveals himself and announces that he can get her out under the wall (since his kiss doesn’t kill her, he can give her air while they’re underwater).
but since chrysi has to care so much for her crew (this is still a point of contention between the two of them), she insists she can’t leave while they’re still captured.
jacks is angry over this and he swims off in a huff. chrysi, similarly, storms away.
jacks feels really bad about it after a while, so he cautiously returns to the lake.
well. uh. so, elias was just being nice by letting jacks sneak in. well, “being nice”—it was more of luring jacks into a false sense of security.
he snatches jacks up quickly and puts him in captivity. this is his final bargaining chip—it’s very clear that chrysi loves this siren. if he threatens jacks, then maybe chrysi will finally agree to be elias’s.
(she doesn’t have to know that he’s going to kill jacks anyway. it’s not a very good thing to have a siren be in love with your future wife, after all).
…i’m going to stop for now, but clearly i’m invested in this idea sdlkfjsdlkfjsdlkfjsdklfjsdklf. i jst love the righteous anger and helplessness of this situation and i don’t feel like resolving it. i want to make chrysi and jacks worry for a while <3333
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factorialsfandoms · 2 years
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Hello! New to this tumblr, but I found your Downfall Timeline Fairy AU on AO3, and let me just say, it has become my new obsession. I’m a big fan of Fairy!Hyrule, and these fics you wrote just made me love him even more. Would it be possible to set up a possible wait time for the next part of the story? Because I can’t wait - I have so many questions and ideas of what will happen next. Will Hyrule’s fairy side be revealed to the Chain? What will Warriors think of that? Will the princesses provide insight for fixing the land and the Fairy Fountains? Maybe Legend can help with that, since I think there was an implication that he was an ancestor of Hyrule’s mother, who also used to be a Great Fairy. Does Legend end up marrying a Great Fairy and becoming a male one himself? Will the land ever actually get better, and become like the other Hyrule’s? I don’t mean to be rude, or put pressure on you, or anything like that, so you can take as long as you want. Thank you!
Hi hello lovely to meet you!
The next part of the story... I'm not entirely sure? I've got a fic in another fandom with a deadline this month which is causing me bother, so I'm not allowed to write any /new/ Zelda stuff until after that's done. ^^; I intend to then work on the fairy series, and maybe throw in some oneshots between so I don't burn out, at least up to the end of my definite plans, but I may need to do a non-series oneshot or three first to get my head back into it. Especially as the next bit is a chapterfic, which /always/ give me trouble, so I want the whole thing done before I start uploading it. Or at least be a couple of chapters ahead. The first chapter is /nearly/ finished, just needs a start, but I want at least half of it done before I upload anything. The end is the easiest bit to write, of course. xD
As for the other bits... I guess I can put some little hints towards spoilers under the cut
Can't have a fairy au without it getting revealed to everyone sooner or later! That's actually on the agenda in the chapter-fic! Which is Hyrule and Legend swapping the PoV stick, though /after/ that Warriors and time get to have some time. There's an earlier version where Warriors learnt it first half-finished in my drafts, though its been scrapped as it no longer fits with other things the series did. May finish it off sometime and throw it up not connected to the rest.
Legend and Hyrule's mother were acquainted, though its on Hyrule's /father/'s side they're blood related - his mother has been about since Time's era, but only been human enough to have kids for the last hundred years or so. The link in the hair thing is a wee bit more complicated. Try think about what actually causes Legend's hair to swap between blond and pink in LU, and a little on ALTTP. I do have some vague plans for it to come up if the heroes wander by the ranch any time soon, though the blood relation by his father's line likely never will just because the information has been lost.
I don't really have a whole ending in mind, but I have a few odds and ends. I will say though that Hyrule's hometime /is/ in a better state than it was when he ended his adventure (they just hit an especially awful part), and the improvement is continuing. Just. Starting from the more settled areas.
I'd love to drop the Princesses in on this one but we'll see. I'm currently fighting Time, Hyrule, and Warriors to try make them all talk again ^^;
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embarktodenmark22 · 2 years
Text
June 5th, 2022
Today was another much more laid back, relaxed sort of day. Technically an optional day out, most of us still chose to hang out with Travis and Michelle to explore and see some of the museums we hadn’t yet visited while we still had our Copenhagen cards. Cool enough, the first stop of the day was to be the Rosenborg castle (literally the castle that we can walk to in 5 minutes from where we’re staying). Originally the plan was to meet with bikes, but there was apparently no bike parking where we needed to be, so after reaching our meeting point I had to turn around and come back bikeless. We then grouped up and headed to get in to the castle. Even with our Copenhagen cards, we needed a group ticket, which we patiently waited in line for. 
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Because we were a pretty sizable group, we had to kill an hour before they would have availability to let us in, so Noreen, Tessa, Alice, Beia, and I took off to go grab some treats at a cafe that I had literally no idea existed in the park- Herkules Pavillionen. Tucked behind some cool sculpture was this hole-in-the-wall cafe with a huge freaking line. Honestly, the waiting in line took longer than getting food. We stood, baking in the GORGEOUS weather (finally, some good f**king weather!) for about a half hour. Finally reaching the front, I ordered some hot mint tea for my raw throat and some scrumptious Pain au Chocolat. 
Would’ve been nice to enjoy our goodies sitting down, but we were quickly back on the move. My tea was pretty interesting- they literally stuck an entire sprig of mint into hot water. Gave me some ideas for my mint plant back home (provided it’s somehow still alive by the time I get back… don’t kill my plants, dad!). However, because drinks weren’t allowed inside, I had to shove it into a locker (where it got sour and not super tasty anymore). 
We waited outside the Rosenborg castle, which was cool seeing up close after observing it from afar. Intimidatingly enough, armed guards with bayonets paced the perimeter of the castle (Which I’m not entirely sure why this was necessary, maybe because of the jewels in the basement? Who knows). We shuffled in pretty quickly. My experience with this castle, sadly, wasn’t as fun as that of the others we’ve visited simply because it was very crowded, and some of the viewing rooms had plastic-paneled sections that allowed for maybe two viewers to go in at best. I’ve also been getting a little fatigued of all of the ornate decor rich royal Danish people were obsessed with hundreds of years ago. I know that’s quite a cynical way to look at it, but I’ve always carried with me a disdain for the rich- of any period in time. It’s like, okay, cool, another table with elaborate designs that probably took a peasant artist months to complete. Another ornate object made out of gold or ivory. Oh, another over-the-top portrait of someone who was born lucky. I don’t know, maybe back on the subject of past lives I could have been one of the people guillotining the rich in France. I just felt this grumpy deep-seated energy about some of what I saw. However, please don’t get me wrong, as an artist I was overjoyed- if not overstimulated- by the rich detail in everything. I took entirely too many photos. It was gorgeous and I know that travelling internationally and just getting to be here and see it in person is more than some get to do in their lifetime.. but rich people are rich people, exploitative both then and now, and I couldn’t help myself. I mean no disrespect by it. 
However, where I do mean (playful) disrespect is in how many portraits I saw where I couldn’t help but to assume that the subject depicted was the result of inbreeding. But even then, that’s historically accurate to how royal family trees worked. Not outright disrespect. Some of the royalty in the portraits did not look human, and, cool enough, I saw some familiar (VERY distinct) faces from all of the art in the Hillerod castle. I think it’s pretty humorous that a group of humans long ago got so obsessed and self-absorbed with the idea that their blood is somehow special, “royal” blood that must not be diluted with the likes of peasants to the extent that they would say “Oh, here you go, your cousin Christian is looking pretty single, better marry and keep up that bloodline!” It’s like they forgot that wealth is a made up concept and someone born as royalty is no more important than someone born a peasant, just luckier.
Anyways I’m doing that thing again where I stop talking about said study abroad in favor of getting all weird and introspective, so I will stop doing that before this blog takes me 2 hours to write instead of 1. 
As a whole, I’d say I liked Rosenborg castle. Not my favorite of what we’ve seen, but it was still a cool experience to visit it, considering it, again, was right next to us this whole time and all. 
After Rosenborg, the plan was to head back to Reffen/Refshaleoen, the magical place with all the cool, various food trucks that we had visited the other day. I was extremely happy about this, as I was not yet done trying all the cool food in there.  We met back in BaseCamp, grabbed bikes, and biked on over (I love biking the streets of Copenhagen. Unique experience, very therapeutic, and prevents me from raging foot pain!) We met Travis and Michelle at Mikkeler, I grabbed this interesting cherry brew from the bar, and we sat outside talking, listening to the catchy folky music that kind of reminded me of home, and absorbing the gorgeous weather and sunshine. This was another one of those moments I wish I could live inside of- shades on, looking out at the riverfront/canal thingy with huge boats docked nearby, listening to enjoyable music with people I’ve connected with, drinking a yummy drink and feeling good about being alive. It was a revitalizing moment. One I think I’ll revisit when told to “think of your happy place.” 
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From there, we sought out some food. There are, again, easily 20+ food trucks all with foods of various cultural background. After re-scoping out the place Beia and I decided that one of us would get the gourmet Parmesan fries with truffle mayo, the other would get some sushi, and we could share. So I did exactly that. I waited, baking in the sun, for a good while for the sushi line- I was surprised to see only 2 employees tackling an endless stream of orders (Seriously, Reffen was easily 3x as busy today as it was when we last went!). I eventually got my food and met with everyone over at a table. The sushi was heavenly, the fish oh so fresh, the chicken skewer it came with even better, and the fries Beia bought were literally the best. I guess they were doused in Parmesan and the dip wound up being this rich creamy Caesar sauce. So good. We ate and actually started feeling quite toasty under the sun, which was surprising after days and days of rainy, drizzly, cold weather. It was nice to have the opposite problem- I’ll take re-applying sunscreen over raincoats and umbrellas any day. We sat, listened to cool covers of popular music (like an acoustic version of All-star), enjoyed the food and company. Tessa and I grabbed some (expensive) fancy juice smoothies with banana and rhubarb (really good), and the group got up to head to our next spot- the contemporary art museum. 
Now, after having experienced the Louisiana museum, I was really going in to this one expecting a lot of the same- lots of art, some of which took very little technical skill and a lot of brain power to interpret/respect. However, my experience was quite opposite! This museum greatly exceeded my expectations. It was themed around light and space, and every single piece was a visual delight. The first wall was huge and covered in interesting lights, then there were pieces that played with light and reflection. I even found myself enjoying a piece by an artist I despise, Anish Kapoor, where he painted a canvas in his “blackest black” (a pigment he invented and reserved for only himself, refusing to make it available for other artists to use) and it literally looked like a cartoon hole in the wall. As I walked around it, I found myself almost convinced that it was a window into another, much darker and much more mysterious room. 
As I walked on, there were a few exhibits that required we wear covers over our shoes. The first was a pitch black room, where the intent of the experience was to sit in it long enough that vision becomes arbitrary and you start seeing bursts of light and color. I tried my best, and was almost there, but some people trying to enter the exhibit pulled open the curtain and destroyed my immersion. Oh well, it was kind of scary being in there anyways. Poor Alice had to hold my hand lol.
Next, we went into a light installation by Doug Wheeler. Walking in to this one felt unreal. The entire shape of the space was curved- so it had the illusion, almost like a planetarium display, of infinite space. Walking in, it felt like entering a space ship. I wish I had photos I could share, but none were allowed. The way the walls were shaped and lights set up, it looked like a futuristic alien environment of infinite white with a subtle violet tone. The walls echoed like crazy, you could hear every single footstep. Being in this room, looking around, felt like every single time I’ve ever worn VR headsets. It was an uncanny sense of un-reality that, yet, I was seeing with my own eyes. The door through which we came looked like a monolith from where we stood. Vision and sound just worked differently in this room. It was so wild.
The last of the large, immersive experiences had about a 30-minute wait. The employees and people who left it said it was worth it (I kind of retroactively beg to differ, but it is what it is). Once it was our time and the waiting was over, we were ushered into a room against the wall to get told rules. Again, no photography- no shoes- etc. I, at this point, was wondering where the exhibit was! All I saw was a set of stairs and a giant square on the wall that looked like a projection. Boy, was I wrong. We set down our bags and took off our shoes, and walked up the stairs… into a room! It was a door, somehow. This room, like the last, was curved, infinite-feeling, and very alien. The walls were white, and subtly shifting in color across the rainbow. At the end of the room was a huge screen (and, apparently, a 2 meter drop?!) but really everything was illusionistic. I couldn’t tell where one thing started and another ended, the room was just one big rectangular tube with a huge wall of light that we all faced. At first, the colors shifted rather slowly, and it was just a nice ambient feature to watch while we explored this alien room we were put into. Then, as it went on, the screen started having intense flashes of color. I honestly started to hallucinate all of these crazy out-of-this-world shapes! Honest! I saw infinite spirals of hexagons, triangles upon triangles, I kept staring at the giant flashing screen (Which always remained one solid color by the way, nothing on the screen showed any variation in shapes the likes of which my eyes were creating for me). For a solid 1-2 minutes we all sat, jaws dropped, hypnotized by this thing while our eyes created visuals unlike anything I’ve experienced in my life! And I know I wasn’t the only one- after we left the room, I asked my friends if they had witnessed the same, and they affirmed that they had. I have no idea what Turell put into this room, “Aftershock,” but it was such an otherworldly psychedelic experience once the flashing happened. I honestly wish the flashing had gone on for longer! Once more, a totally unreal, uncanny valley out-of-this-world experience. This museum had some of the coolest art I think I’ve seen in a long while. Between my visit here, my experience in Yayoi Kusama’s installation, and the presentation from Yoke the other day, I’m really thinking about the ways in which we can design art and experiences to put viewers in other worlds. I am so, so into that. Maybe escapism isn’t what we need right now, but it is absolutely insane to me how, with a bit of coding or with some arranging of lights and mirrors, we can literally create experiences that put viewers into other states of existence, whether it be their own eyes creating visual wonders for them, or the illusion of mirrors creating an infinite dreamscape around them on all sides. It’s something I’ve never really thought about before, but the potential for creating new art with all this new technology at our hands is so limitless! If only I knew where to start in terms of learning how to do any of this. Crazy cool stuff.
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Anyways, wow, we did so, so much stuff today. Thinking back on it all. Here’s what happened next: we left the museum, dazed and inspired and oh, so glad that we were some of the only students on the trip to check it out (it was optional). We hopped on our bikes to go spend some time at Nyhavn. After leaving Reffen, I navigated us (very roughly) to Nyhavn and we did exactly that. I found some perfect cheesy tourist merch, but still really had a few places I wanted to come back and check out, probably tomorrow. I also finally had the perfect time and weather to get a cheesy photo of myself in front of the iconic colorful houses and water canal! 
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Eventually, the four of us (Beia, Tessa, Alice, and I) decided to part ways for a little while to take a breather, as we had planned to finally go to Tivoli Gardens afterwards. So Beia and Alice went back to the dorms, Tessa walked around live-streaming for a bit, and I decided to go see if a store I’ve been meaning to visit was open. It was really refreshing just being able to hop on my bike, pop in headphones with music and directions, and explore the city by bike. I got a little lost, but I wasn’t even remotely worried. It was such a cool, therapeutic experience. I honestly felt like the main character in a movie. I eventually found my way near the shop, hopped off and parked my bike, only to realize, duhh, it’s a Sunday! The entire street of shops were all shut. So, instead, I took a pleasant stroll down one of the streets to a 7/11 that was still open (it’s so weird, 7/11’s here are just as common as Starbucks back home), grabbed a yummy chocolate croissant and energy shake/juice, and walked back to the bike. At this point, I could feel the pain demons gnawing again and wasn’t super thrilled about the prospect of walking even more tonight, but I’ll be damned if a bit of pain is going to ruin my once-in-a-lifetime trip!
I once again popped in my earbuds and had a pleasant ride back to BaseCamp to drop off all of my souvenir goodies, change clothes, and make sure I didn’t have to carry a bag around for my time in the Tivoli riding rides. We met back up in the courtyard and headed to the train, as Tivoli is right next to Copenhagen central station. While we waited for the train, a couple of people headed to Malmo, Sweden (The city we visited the other day), asked us which train they should take, which was hilarious- as if we would know! The train system here is very confusing and not friendly to beginners. We, ourselves, had barely understood it. We told them the way the best we could have- lucky for them, like I said, we had just been there. Then we hopped on the train only to hop back off a couple minutes later.
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We soon made it to Tivoli. It was nice to be back in again, and our Copenhagen cards got us right on through. Excited, we walked down the quirky cool alleyways and straight to a cute Viking boat spinny ride. We waited in line only to find out that getting past the doors was not the only charge- if we wanted to actually ride any of the rides, it would be an extra $30 for an all-inclusive pass. So freaking lame. But, there was the option to pay for individual rides, which we took (honestly, though, the $30 pass would have been smarter and cheaper in the long run). The first ride was a lot of fun and cost around $8. It was hilarious, Alice hadn’t been on any sort of ride in a while so she was screaming and hollering at even the simplest rotation of the ride. We, then, wanted to go on a few more rides before eating. We found this cool old-fashioned coaster simply titled “The Rollercoaster.” This one, I think, was the most fun of the three we went on. It took us through a mountain-themed track, had lots of up/down drops (hello butterflies lol), and was just generally fun. I think I also enjoyed it most because it was free for me- I couldn’t get either of my cards to work once I had reached the front of the line so the guy had just said whatever and let me by. Also, for some reason, there was a conductor type guy on the car with us who was standing up the whole time and touching the walls and stuff as we zoomed past. Last of all was a $13 coaster (that was not worth that much in any way shape or form) that was built more recently, it looked more similar to what you’d find at Elitches/Six Flags. It didn’t go upside down, rather, it zoomed around in a tight circle and went around the same, small track about 3 times. I was honestly kind of let down by it, not gonna lie.
After we had our (expensive) fun on the coasters, we wanted a bite to eat. I had been through this area before, so I was familiar with the awesome food court tucked inside one of the buildings. It was, like the rest of the park, bustling with people. Similarly to the food truck situation, I had so many options and so few decisions! Eventually, I decided on some yummy basil pasta that I couldn’t pronounce that took about 30-40 min from waiting in line to getting the food. Once everyone had their meal, we sat outside and dined next to the cool Taj Mahal-looking building lit up with glimmering lights.
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Eventually the food court and rides closed around 10:00PM, but the park stayed open longer, so we were ushered out back into the park. We decided on some ice cream, so two of us ran off to get some for the group, the other two (Alice and I) stayed, sat in some comfy chairs by this cool Chinese theater stage, and talked. The other two wound up taking forever because they had to go on a wild goose chase for ice cream, one stand shutting down in the middle of them waiting in line. Eventually they got us all ice cream, which we sat and enjoyed as the air got, frankly, way too chilly for me to be in just a tank top like I was. As the sun ever so slowly sank (it never seems to set! It’s still bright out at 10PM most nights and still not fully dark by 12), the park slowly got more and more beautiful, lights everywhere. The whole amusement park is honestly similar to Epcot’s international lake thingy, and, because Tivoli is much older, I’m pretty sure this is where Disney got inspiration for that park. It’s gorgeous- a variety of structures and sculptures inspired by different cultures, ambient lighting from fairy lights and other dim lights from everywhere, and adorable little streets with beautiful plant life. It was so cool to sit there, talk, and watch the sun set. At some point, some little kid crawled up on to the Chinese theatre stage we were near and started dancing and performing for his parents, it was so cute so we clapped for him once he was done and the lights shut off on him. In the background, music came from somewhere and ABBA was playing in the background, so we all started rocking out.
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It really was such a chill end to a very eventful day. By the time we reached the train, I was too in pain to walk another step. Luckily I parked my bike to hop on to to ride home. I literally passed out the moment I hit the bed.
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wannabecrypt-id · 2 years
Note
A must-read IZ fic list, you say? 👀👀👀 Colour me interested
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Ignorantly, I chug 2 of those Alani Nu drinks unaware they contain 200 mg of caffeine each. Thank you for the ask, I take no responsibility for the response.
🥴🥴🥴
INVADER ZIM FANFIC RECOMMENDATION LIST:
Rating Key:
Explicit Mature Teen General
50k words and up:
Cartography by Word-Spitting-Dragon [ZADR, 33/? chapters, 286k+ words]
“Resisty!Zim AU: When the Irkens start exporting dangerous goods outside of known Irken space, Zim and his fellow R.E.S.I.S.T.Y. members decide to take a look, hoping to expose something they can use to finally end the Irken Menace. But what lies out in the farthest, uncharted corners of space? And could it really help the rebel cause? ZADF eventually ZADR”
>Some characterizations are a bit different than I was used to, but I devoured this fic in 3 days so you know it’s good. Pretty sure it’s discontinued but it’s a satisfying read even so.
Nullified! by HedgehogSquadGoals [ZADR, 30/? chapters, 146k+ words)
“A live alien is better than a dead one! That’s Dib’s theory, anyway. When he discovers a half-dissected, somehow-still-alive alien in storage at his father’s lab, he resolves to bring it to full health and show the world that extraterrestrial life exists (and most importantly, that he's not crazy)! Though, the alien may have a few ulterior motives of his own...”
>I adore this fic. Look me in the eyes. I ADORE this fic. The plot, the characterizations, everything makes me salivate. It’s so good and it’s something I will sit down for 4 hours straight and just reread.
A Love like War I by lestat_wesker [ZADR, 22/22 chapters, 136k+ words]
“If Zim has to fix all the LIES they’ve been shamelessly spreading in Irk about him, he should just stop wasting time in the filthy, worthless, poor excuse for a planet, Urth.
Yes, he must leave immediately, and absolutely can’t be followed! He would have blown up this rock already if he had a little more time.
He can’t be followed, under no circumstance! Oh, no, not this time. And his plan must be indisputably perfect. No mistake can be made now. Nothing going horribly wrong is allowed! (Please, not this time…)”
>Such a good concept, such a good execution. There’s also a 2nd part… 👀.Dib and Zim forget about each other, and fate or coincidence or whatever the hell forces them back together. Also check out @/Tr33333’s art for this fic here (1, 2,)
IF YOU SHOULD BEG by hamletmustdie [ZADR, 19/19 chapters, 122k+ words]
“A failed attempt to please the Tallest's leaves Zim's PAK compromised by murderous malware that renders him unrecognizable. Dib is frantic to save him, left alone on a hostile planet he doesn't know - and with only hours to prevent Zim from killing them both.”
>Any fic with Dib in space has me swooning, so this is a must-have. Also! @/Tr333333 has art for this fic as well lol (1) (Basically, if they have fanart for a fic, I’d recommend checking it out….)
Being Tall Isn’t Everything by PAW_07 [No relationship, 12/? chapters, 60k+ words]
“Zim was about to destroy the world, his dying adversary at his feet … yet he doesn't kill Dib. He wants to use that cunningly huge head of his, especially now that they are both so tall. Now, years later, the newest Tallest finds himself in a web of secrets, the past, and the future seemingly tearing him apart. As usual ... this is all Zim's fault.”
>This has to be one of my absolute favorite invader zim fics. It features irken dib, as an amnesiac tallest who can’t remember anything beyond his reign. Oh my god it’s so good. I’m pretty sure it’s discontinued but… *clenches fist* it’s so, so good.
Below 50k words:
Dig Your Own Grave and Then Bury the Hatchet by dearqueer (plushrump) [ZADR, 5/6 chapters, 37k+ words]
“Alternatively Titled: In Which Zim and Dib Makeout and it Upsets the Balance of the Entire Universe”
>Maybe… maybe I’m obsessed with Resisty AUs…? I love Zim in this fic. So good. The notes from the first chapter start as follows, “vasquez can eat my entire asshole.” so, maybe give it a read.
Harder, Better, Faster, Taller by PatchWorkPoltergeist [RAPR, 3/? chapters, 34k+ words]
“Thus far, Elite Red's life had been a work in progress: constant improvement, higher performance, higher rank, and higher stature. The best of the very best. With the start of Invasion Season and Devastis training a new crop of Invaders, Red's plan was clear: Become an Invader. Attain glory. Get snacks. Go solo and never put up with other Irkens' garbage ever again.
It was a good plan. A foolproof plan. And then Purple ruined it. (Except for the snacks.)”
>I adore the writing style. Honestly, if I were you I would check out all of the authors fics. Seriously. Red and Purple are Irken elites, and I wish I could express how much I love everything about this fic lol.
Inside Out by Andystarr [ZADR, 3/3 chapters, 30k+ words]
“It was meant to be a simple information retrieval mission.
If things don't go to plan, Resisty Agent Dib can usually rely on his partner and best friend to swoop in and save his ass. When Dib survives a mission by the skin of his teeth and finds himself with nothing left of his partner but a PAK that he can't seem to let go of, he'll need to look within in order to figure out how to do the impossible.”
>Okay, so I would love to put all of their fics on here but, as I think it would be a bit tedious of you to read through all of that so I’ll just assure you all their fics are masterpieces. This is just my personal favorite, and it’s from the author of Vort Dogs so you know it’s good. It features Resisty AU Dib and Zim, and just… just read it, okay? (Also, listen to the podfic of Vort Dogs. I found and listened to it the other day and I love GeminiWishes’ voice for Zim)
Red Line by DarkAbyss [ZADE/ZADF, 1/1 chapters, 21k+ words]
“During one of their fights, Zim and Dib fall in the clutches of a mysterious alien species that seems to have a twisted liking for experimenting on their captives.
(Warning for Gore, Blood and sensitive images)”
>THIS FIC. The concept is so good. The writing is downright incredible. Yeah, it’s a little gorey so if fucked up anatomical experiments aren’t your thing you might wanna steer clear of this fic.
Analogous Colors by Ryntaia [RAPR, 1/1 chapters, 4k+ words]
“Four snippets of four stages in the life of Red and Purple, from birth to reign.”
>GOOD. Good. Read it.
A Mile in his Shoes by PAW_07 [No relationship, 1/1 chapters, 2k+ words]
“Dib is dead… at least that's what it seems like, yet Zim isn't cackling and taking over the world. He's silent, sad, and … like a boy trapped in another's shoes. Tallest Red can't help but wonder what's come over their once insane soldier.”
>One word… bodyswap. (Also love the tallest’s characters in this fic.)
Currently Reading + Personal To-Read List:
No Return by knockplease [RAPR, Lard Nar/Spleenk, 27/? chapters, 341k+ words]
“There comes a single moment that changes everything. A decision that must be made; and in that moment, one becomes fully responsible for course their lives will take. Every creature blessed with consciousness must face the point of no return.”
>It was so hard to find this fic. Thus far, it is so good and so worth it. I came upon it by dumb luck and obsessive prying into fic authors bookmarks.
Nova by Poludnica_Roksana [RAZR, ZADR, 11/? chapters, 82k+ words]
“After Zim crashes back into Dib's life, unfortunate circumstances force the two to flee to space. With the Irken Empire on their trail, the Almighty Tallest Red at the helm, how long can they really evade them? And how long before dark secrets are spilled?”
>Uhh full disclosure, I have only read the first chapter thus far BUT super excited about this concept. Pumped for some much desired razr as this is supposed to mainly be a razr fic.
Forced Perspective by opalite [ZADE/ZADF, 24/24 chapters, 121k+ words]
“Zim damages his PAK in a lab accident. It’s certainly nothing to worry about... as long as the Tallest send him those replacement parts before it starts seriously affecting his health. Zim’s injury and the resulting increase in his strange behavior inevitably sets Dib off, and his increasing suspicion and paranoia leads to an event that tips the delicate balance of their conflict wildly out of Zim’s favor. One way or another, everything is about to change.”
>I love all the art for this fic so much, I should have made reading this a priority long ago. I have only read the first chapter for this fic as well and it is so good. It is a sickfic though, so fair warning about that.
A Parade of Indignities by RissyNicole [ZADF, 30/30 chapters, 155k+ words]
“After inadvertently learning the truth about Zim's mission, a now fifteen-year-old Dib comes to a moral crossroads. Now, he must make an imperative decision to help Zim after an attempt on his life leaves the Irken in dire need of medical attention.”
>Another sickfic. A majority of those in the IZ fandom prolly already know about this fic. It is still on my to-read list so I’m sticking it here anyway.
Ehhhh I’ll shamelessly plug in my AO3 in case ya’ll wanna check out some of my bookmarks as some of them weren’t mentioned in this list. I might make a 2nd part to this sometime or edit this, but for now I can feel my heartbeat in my calves so I’m gonna crash 😘
(Please let me know if there’s any problem with the links)
108 notes · View notes
iiraven · 3 years
Text
Fool-Proof Plan
Pairing: Erwin x reader
Genre: fluff, comedy, smut, modern AU
Warnings: size kink, masturbation, squirting, fingering in front of a mirror, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, manhandling, degradation, praise, established relationship, slight dumbification, choking/ breath play 
Word count: 4.6K
Synopsis: Erwin’s business trip leads you to realise you’re not as sly as you think you are.
Masterlist
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Erwin Smith is a man capable of absolutely everything. He’s an amazing cook, an amazing masseur, an amazing businessman, and, most of all, an amazing husband.
There’s only one small shortcoming to the person you consider to be perfect. And that’s his inability to use any form of technology. Texting is bad enough with him signing his name after every message, but it’s social media that’s your husband’s true sworn enemy. Erwin might only be a few years your senior, but somehow your grandfather can comprehend the concept of Instagram faster than him.
“So, you just take pictures?”
“Yes.”
“And people respond to it?”
“Yes.”
“Alright but why?”
The conversation is nothing new, but you find it incredibly unfortunate knowing how talented he is at photography. If you two ever go someplace Erwin knows he wants to capture, he slings his camera over his neck, leaves his phone at home (“I won’t be taking any calls today”) and makes his merry way out of the house. You often eye the phone left stray on the desk, half-expecting it to chase you out of the house for abandoning it. Sometimes, for good measure, you slip it into your own bag. Just in case.
It’s for this reason that Erwin’s business trip puts you on immediate edge.
“It’ll only be for ten days,” he had said. “Sina Corporations takes their summits really seriously…”
“Ten days?” You repeated and Erwin gave you a soft smile.
“I’ll call you every day.”
It’s not like you have an obsessive attachment to your husband (well, that’s debatable), but breaking the routine of returning home to his warm hugs, listening to his day and then complaining about your own- it’s uncomfortable. 
Erwin himself wasn’t looking forward to being away from you, away from home. Running Survey Corporations Ltd is no easy task; trying to balance the infuriating board and the long hours with his actual life is something only possible because of you. Time spent together is fine diamonds Erwin clutches onto and although he’d tried to reason with himself that it was only ten days, it wasn’t a trip he was looking forward to. He never said it out loud. But he didn’t need to. You can tell by the way Erwin’s lips linger on yours a little longer at the airport, as if to preserve your taste.
“Oi Erwin- hurry up.” Levi tries hard not to glare. But even the raven-haired man knows that being away from you puts Erwin on somewhat of an edge. You’re his rock, there to ground him when everything is chaotic, and a summit surrounded by the richest people in the world is as chaotic as it gets.
Despite it all, Erwin stays true to his promise. He calls you at least twice a day and although you could stay on the phone with him for hours, he’s often rushing between conferences and can only spare minutes of his time. Even when he does have an hour, talking to a disembodied voice (he still can’t figure out how to switch his camera back around) is not the same as having Erwin right beside you. It’s the way he squeezes your thigh when he’s focussing on what you’re saying or when he pulls you towards him so that you can lie on his hard chest which still makes you blush even after years of being together.
Because, yes, you miss his touch the most.
Not even five days in, you find yourself with your hands down your panties and a tall blond man on your mind. You’re soaked just thinking about him. His groans, the way he calls your name, the way he pounds into you as you lose your train of thought. Your fingers try to imitate his- their curve and how easily they find your soft spot- but it just feels uncomfortable. So, then you try rubbing your clit, and there’s temporary pleasure there, but not even close enough to tip you over the edge. Even your pink vibrator doesn’t cut it. You deny the fact that Erwin Smith has made you an incompetent masturbator, but you can’t keep up the lie for long and soon enough you give up.
It’s the next day that your ingenious idea kindles. It’s a fool-proof plan. A small flame that has you rushing to the bathroom for the best possible lighting. Erwin can still put his tongue to use at a distance- after all, it’s his voice you fell in love with first. To discretely push him in the right direction, you send him a few photos of yourself. Nothing too scandalous safe he’s in a meeting, but enough that he’ll gets the hint. Sure, Erwin has a couple of polaroid pictures hidden in his brown leather wallet, but he had shot those himself. You want to be a bit more spontaneous! And, honestly, at this point you’re desperate. You could swear you’re developing withdrawal symptoms: just the other day, you were actually temped to pick up a newspaper. It was terrifying.
This had to work. You can just imagine Erwin calling you, voice deep and gruff as he guides you through the process to make yourself cum as he showers you with praise. You feel giddy, eyes glued to the glowing screen, awaiting his response. Even your pink vibrator is out of the box.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly go the way you had planned.
One hour after sending the photos you receive a panicked text from Hange. In the long paragraph, you understand that your poor husband couldn’t get the photos to load and decided to consult the vice president of his company who, upon simply clicking on them, saw you groping your soapy tits. Had it been anyone other than vice president Hange Zoe, Erwin may have broken his phone and quit right there. Thankfully, he only said, “I see” and then asked her where to find the smiley face Emoji.
“I’m so, so sorry Y/N!” Hange screams through the phone. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I could send you a picture of my boobs! I’ll go do it right now! I’m sorry! No- You don’t need to feel embarrassed! I won’t mind!”
“It’s alright Hange.” You laugh nervously. “You don’t need to send me anything, it’s really not that big of a deal.”
The whack Levi lands on her head is so hard you hear it through the phone. “Shut the fuck up four-eyes.”
So here you are now. Three days until Erwin returns, a vibrator you’ve given up on back in its box, and a husband who responds to your nudes with a smiley face.
But then Hange Zoe sends you something much better than a picture of her boobs.
The hotel that the trio were staying at- as most hotels do- has a spa. And if there’s one thing Erwin Smith adores it’s allowing himself to relax in a warm, steamy sauna. You’re not sure how Hange was allowed to join them, or how she was able to get her camera clear of fog, or how she was even able to take the picture without Erwin noticing. But you ask her no questions.
Followed by a winky-face is a picture of Erwin sat in the sauna, head tilted backwards, and eyes shut in the pure image of serenity. His arms are propped up on either side of him accentuating his biceps whilst still allowing a clear view of his sculpted body, the sweat running down his chest and abs, making him almost glisten. He’s completely naked except for the flimsy white towel across his lap which does absolutely nothing to hide his thick dick print. You shudder.
You feel like a teenager again, speechless at the sight of a quasi- naked man. Even though you’ve seen him like this thousands of times, you can’t help but fantasise about being trapped underneath him, hair falling onto his face as he loses himself inside of you. God, maybe you do have an unhealthy obsession. But it doesn’t matter. You feel even more like a teenager as you imagine scenarios of him returning home to recreate the picture before you. And with that, your mind is sedated for the next few days.
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You have a fool-proof plan. Dress up in the shortest and tightest dress you own, cook your husband dinner, and then give him a blow job at the table so that he’ll never leave you again. It’s going to be just like in the movies and nothing will stop that from happening.
Something stops that from happening.
Just as you’re about to put the potatoes in the oven, Erwin calls. His flight is delayed. You whine through the phone and Erwin’s chuckle just about stops you from sulking like a child. You can be mature about this, right? He’s getting home eventually- complaining isn’t going to help at all. Patience is a virtue and yours has been tested many times before. This is, after all, nothing compared to the time Erwin tried to create an excel spreadsheet. So, you don’t press further. You simply tell Erwin that you miss him and then go find a pillow in which you scream for a good five minutes.
Erwin, on the other hand, is a lot less coveted with his annoyance. He wants nothing more than to strangle whatever and whoever is preventing him from returning to his lovely wife. In the hour journey, the entire plane can feel a crushing tension above their heads, so tense that even the child at the back seems to be holding in his tears. 
Usually, Erwin prefers to spend his flights with a book in his hands, but he’s incapable for picking up the paperback and instead stares out of the window somehow hoping it will go faster.
After what feels like hours, the tight dress has gotten too uncomfortable for you to wear and you resolve yourself to eating the potatoes alone. You still don’t take off your lingerie, though. A two-piece black set with lace detailing that makes you look like a present ready to be unwrapped. It had arrived yesterday, and you had taken your sweet time admiring the embroidered flowers and soft ribbon holding the fragile piece together because you had falsely assumed that you wouldn’t have it on for long. You had in fact contemplated stockings but by the time 11PM came by you simply wrapped Erwin’s favourite robe around your body and tried to take your mind off things. Maybe you should have opted for your own robe because as the sleeves hung from your arms and the soft material effused his smell, it managed to make you feel even worse.
Staying up late was not a foreign feeling but anticipation quickly turns into boredom and you find your eyelids getting heavy. You pause the anime you’re watching and are about to shut your eyes when you hear the faint rattle of keys.
You stumble getting out of bed, knocking your shoulder on the wall before skipping four steps at a time and tripping on the robe at least twice as you rush downstairs. Erwin is barely through the door as you call out his name and he drops his bags right there to let your rush into your arms. You feel so small, so safe, so familiar, within them, as if you’ve returned to the space where you belong. He lifts you up to let you wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles barely crossing. He smells divine, even after hours of being stuck in an airport and his hair is still soft between your fingers. You look at him and the smile that spreads across his face wipes out any hints of fatigue that might have been there just moments ago.
Erwin kisses you and it’s long, deep, and he holds you impossibly closer to him as his tongue dips into your mouth. You don’t want it to end, but Erwin pulls back and says softly, “I’m home, my love.”
You can’t help but giggle. “Welcome home.”
You return to the kiss with a hint of desperation. Tugging lightly on Erwin’s shirt, you know he notices how your core is already warm, but still, he takes his time closing the door with his foot before finally noticing your attire. You’re about to make a sarcastic comment about his obliviousness but the way he looks down at you, at the small flower of lace peeping out from under the heavy robe, the way he slowly wets his lips, he leaves you speechless.
“You’re a gift.” He smiles sweetly though his eyes darken.
“Well, you’ve been working really hard,” You mumble. “You deserve a treat.”
The effect this man has on you is unbelievable. All that anger and frustration you had pent up now crumbles at the light caress of his thumb on your hips.
“Let me unwrap you,” Erwin says. And he walks you to your room, climbing up the stairs with ease as you cling onto him. You attempt to rub yourself against his hard stomach, but one look of warning makes you stop. He’s going to be doing things on his watch, tonight.
Setting you on the floor beside your bed, Erwin undoes the ribbon and you let the fabric pool at your feet. He immediately latches onto your neck, and you gasp, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands begin to roam, fingering the delicate lace of your panties and the straps of your bra as his tongue leaves a trail over your chest. It’s only when Erwin suddenly grabs your breast that you moan, body involuntarily pushing towards him.
He looks up through thick eyelashes and his hands moves to cup your face. You’re about to beg him to touch you where you need it most, but he whispers, “you’re so beautiful.” And you’re speechless again.
You suddenly lean in to kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and it’s messy and your breath is short. “Please, Erwin,” you say to him between kisses. “Touch me.” You can feel him smile against your lips. “Please”. And before you can stop yourself. “I can’t do it myself.”
Erwin stills and only then do you realise your mistake. He pulls back and stands up straight, towering over you and you recognises that look. It’s the one of a lion who has just found a wounded deer. 
“Oh?”
Fuck. He leans back and raises a brow expectantly and you try to look everywhere but at him. Maybe if you avoid eye contact, he’ll take it as a slip of the tongue. But your husband is not one to let things go. He’s intelligent, he knows exactly what you mean- you don’t need to speak for him to gather what happened, the image of you lying pathetically on the bed, hopeless and desperate. He smirks but stays quiet. Erwin likes it when you use your words.
“No-that’s not what I meant. I mean- you feel best and it’s just-“
You’re cut off by a hand on your scalp, pulling your hair back in one swift motion so that you have no choice but to look up at your husband dead in the eye.
“You were touching yourself whilst I was away, Y/N?”
“I-I mean...yeah…”
“I see.” His gaze is enough to make you gush. “And you weren’t able to make yourself cum.”
Your cheeks burn. It’s not a question, but you affirm it anyways. “No, no I couldn’t make myself cum.”
He’s silent for a moment and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s watching your worried face or because he’s wondering how he’s going to make that face look even more worried.
“I would feel sorry for you, but I suppose that’s what you deserve for touching my cunt without my permission.”
You gasp as he uses his grip on your hair to throw you on the bed. It’s effortless, the way his strength could so easily destroy you and yet he uses it to ruin destroy you in another way- just who you like it. Erwin undoes his tie and all you can do is gawk as he strips down to his boxers. He’s as hard as a rock and you tentatively reach out to touch him, but Erwin grabs your wrist. Without warning, you’re dragged to the other side of the bed where you’re placed to face your large floor length mirror. There’s only a moment of confusion before you understand why Erwin had been so keen on the somewhat awkward placement. He positions himself behind you and you withhold the urge to press your back against his throbbing cock.
“Don’t you take your eyes off the mirror,” Erwin commands, and you nod your head. “Use your words. Or do you need me to show you how to do that too?”
“Yes, sir,” You say quickly.
“Good girl.”
Erwin opens your legs, his hands gripping your thighs hard. You silently wish bruises bloom in their wake- it’s been too long since you’ve had your husband’s mark on you. A reminder of who you belong to. One hand stays on your thigh and the other moves to nudge your panties out of the way of your glistening cunt. 
“I’m going to show you how to touch yourself,” He says in a low, rumbling voice. “And you’re going to watch closely and learn. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir.”
His fingers don’t tease your folds for long. Erwin is feeling merciful, because he simply gathers the slick coating your cut before immediately rubbing your clit. The moan that leaves your mouth is pornographic. You buck your hips but the hand on your thigh moves to pin you down, your body flush against his so that you can almost feel his bearing heart. You’re engulfed by him so small as he easily manipulates your body.
Erwin is overwhelmed by the options. Look at his wife unravel below him or stare at the mirror, where you have no place to hide.
“I should be punishing you, you know.” He presses his fingers down hard on a particularly tenter spot and you moan loudly. “But I need to show my dumb little girl how to take care of herself.”
“I-I’m not- ahhh.” Your back arches and Erwin captures your neck again, sucking viciously.
As his thumb continues its assault on your clit, two fingers find your tight hole, dripping and clenching around nothing. He can see in the mirror how your body is practically begging to be filled up. And fill you up he will. But first Erwin inserts a finger and groans at the warmth that greets him. He begins moving it and although you try to understand how he is able to stroke your cunt so perfectly, your mind is fogged and all that’s on your mind is your impending release. This should be a learning experience, but it serves only as a reminder of Erwin’s miraculous hands. He slips his second finger in and your moans only get lounder.
“Erwin, Erwin- they feel so good. Your fingers feel so good!”
You can see his smirk in his reflection, just before he speeds up and you have to grab his wrist to steady yourself. His fingers slam back and forth into your velvety walls. They suck them in, and he is able to find your sweet spot every time. Every single time. Your eyes roll back, you press against Erwin’s chest and your legs shake as you cum. The mess you make, leaking all over Erwin’s hands, your bed, your thighs- you try to look away, but he grabs your face to prevent you from doing so.
“Don’t you dare look away.” His voice is low, threatening. “Look how good I make you feel. Look.”
Your cheeks are flushed and the set that had made you look like a femme fatale, just hours before, is now yet another set that has has you pliant and submissive. “It seems that I’m the only one who can take care of you,” Erwin says. And you know he’s right.
Erwin lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as he tastes you. When he opens them, you swear they’ve gone a shade darker. Wordlessly, Erwin slips from behind you to kneel in front of the bed. He removes your panties and holds them up to his nose, giving them a slight inhale before tossing them to the side and lowering his mouth.
“Erwin wai-“
And before you can warn him that your too sensitive- you orgasm was too strong, it’s too soon- his mouth has latched onto your cunt and Erwin is eating you out like a starved man.
“Ah-fuck, fuck, fuck,” You practically scream.
He sucks on your clit, his tongue doing what it does best. You look down, his eyes bore into yours and you know he’s remembering every expression you make as he pushes you over the edge. Despite your trembling arms struggling to keep you upright, your hand goes to grip Erwin’s hair and all you can think about is how soft it is before you cum again. Your husband doesn’t stop this time. His fingers dig into your soft hips to make sure you don’t move, to make sure that he catches everything on his tongue. And he can feel it before you do. The steady build-up of a feeling slightly familiar, but foreign enough that you warn Erwin too late. Your back arches and you squirt in his mouth and before your eyes roll back, you catch a glimpse of what you know to be a smirk in your husband’s eyes.
You can feel the sheets soak below you so try to press your legs together in somewhat of an attempt to hide the mess, but Erwin doesn’t let you. “Don’t be ashamed now, darling.” His voice is solid, domineering. “This is just you perfect body, doing exactly what I tell it to,” He says.
He could be talking about fruits and you would still nod your head dumbly.
The power Erwin has over you is addictive, and your body seems to know it too. As he kisses your thighs, licking off whatever didn’t find its way into his mouth, you can still feel a distant ache at your core. This time, you don’t need to use your words. As you lie weak on the bed, Erwin crawls over, engulfing your form. The lion is ready for his meal. He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. “I missed you,” He says. It’s the hundredth time, but you don’t tire of hearing it.
“I missed you too.”
Erwin shifts your legs, and you can feel the head of his large cock teasing your entrance.
“I missed all of you,” he repeats. “Your smile. Your voice. Your moans.” He pauses to place a kiss on your collarbone. “Your taste.”
He’s trying to be romantic, but you know why he stalls, and it makes you unable to graciously except the compliments. Erwin loves to hear you pine for him. And who are you to refuse your husband’s desires? So, you reach your hands out towards his shoulders, attempting to make him move if only a little bit. “Erwin!” You whine, and despite your weakness, you manage to push your hips forward, finding friction against his hard cock. “Please!”
Again, that smirk. He rubs against your clit. “My, my- you’ve come twice already and want more?”
Well, he missed your voice so you suppose you should let him hear it. “Let me be selfish, please sir?” You moan. “I need you inside of me.”
His cock twitches against you. And before you know it his hand is around your neck. “Such a good girl, using your words like that.”
He pushes inside you with a groan of relief, a low sound from his throat that causes his eyes to close momentarily. 
It seems you’ve forgotten how big he is because as he stretches you out like it’s your first time, your mouth drops open and a string of curses emerges. Erwin would usually reprimand you for the foul language, but he’s too lost in the feeling of your tight cunt pulling him in. Using your neck as leverage, he squeezes tight so that he can push forward and when your eyes blur, overwhelmed with the pleasure and pain and the lack of oxygen intensifying it all, Erwin loosens his grip only slightly, and your eyes find his again. You don’t notice your mouth hanging open, too focussed on the way your body is accommodating Erwin’s cock again.
“Really big, ‘s really big, sir,” You mumble and Erwin grunts in response, his teeth clenching because he too is reminded yet again of how tight- how perfect- your body is for him.
When Erwin bottoms out, he stills for a moment, basking in your warmth and taking a moment to kiss your cheek, a gentle gesture compared to the hand still grasping your neck. Your cunt gushes despite you wincing about the pain, about his size, and soon he can’t help but move his hips. Erwin pulls back and thrusts deep. You scream him name, as you feel his cock dragging against your walls. Any idea of taking you gently has evaporated from Erwin’s brain and instead his hips snap back and forth violently, his tip kissing your cervix as he buries himself inside of you again and again.
His grunts are laboured as Erwin’s free hand pushes your leg up to your chest to allow him to thrust deeps and deeper. “Just like that- just like that, good girl. My good girl.”
The new angle has him brushing against your g-spot and you won’t last long. You know you can’t- not with him quite literally rearranging your insides. You have one hand clawing at his forearm and the other grips the sheets and you repeat a mantra of “Thank you, sir, thank you” in between your desperate moans. The honorific coming from your lips is too sweet to his ears and he’s reminded of why phone calls bother him so much- nothing compares to hearing your voice like this.  
Erwin’s hand leaves your neck only to tug your bra down, letting your boobs bounce freely as he fucks you hard. You almost complain about the loss of contact but his tongue latches onto to your nipple and before you know it, you are coming all over your husband, screaming his name. Your nails dig into his arm as he nears his own release. Erwin’s hips stutter and he moans your name before throwing his head back in pure bliss as he cums inside of you. You wish you can capture that sight forever, but you don’t think any photo does your husband justice. It’s true- this is better than anything Hange could send.
Your breaths slowly find a slower rhythm in the post-orgasm silence. Erwin watches the way your fluids pool out of you as he pulls out, admiring the own mess on his lower stomach. You wince at the sore feeling and pull him towards you. This time, he follows your command. Breathless bodies mould into each other, finding their place after too long being apart. At the back of your mind, you know you should be making your way to the bathroom, but Erwin’s heavy body lying on your chest is enough to remind you to focus on the moment. For this is where you belong.
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“You know, you should be flattered, Erwin.” You nudge his arm weakly as you lay together, bodies entangled in a random set of pyjamas you begrudgingly forced yourself to change into. “No one has better hands than you.”
He laughs. “I am flattered,” he says. “I just like teasing you.”
“No- you have a degradation kink.”
“Yes, that too.”
Even as you were taking a shower together, Erwin’s subtle attempts at having you admit you couldn’t make yourself cum did not go unnoticed. You suppose it’s an ego-thing, but then you realise it’s more. The power of being the only person able to bring you that much bliss is power Erwin thrives on. And despite the money wasted on your pink vibrator, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Still,” Erwin muses and a small smile plays across his lips. “I did expect the photo Hange took to at least help a little.”
Every muscle in your body stills and your eyes suddenly widen. Oh come on. You try to tell yourself that there’s simply nothing wrong with having a photo of your naked husband, but it’s more than that. You know it. Erwin knows it. And by the way he’s smiling, you also know that plastered on your face is the guiltiest of looks. In your poor attempt to escape his gaze by turning your back to him, Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, hugging you closer.
“That’s not fair!” You exclaim.
“It’s not?”
“No!”
You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but Erwin is made of steel. Why do you expect to get away with anything anymore? Erwin Smith is beyond two moves ahead- he’s finished the game before you’ve even started.
“Did you really think I didn’t notice?” 
“Shut up!” You whine. “Why do you have to be such a smartass about it? Let me think I win.”
“Alright, alright.” Erwin chuckles and places a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my winner. Always.”
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574 notes · View notes
makeste · 3 years
Text
BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left
Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!
Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.
so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi
oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan
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“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor
oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point
hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus
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and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead
“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true
and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else
holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill
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these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door
OH SHIT LMAO
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DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT
(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)
anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame
lmaoooooooooooo
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“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”
see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT
“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here
see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law
“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words
lol of course
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well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol
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dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions
oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol
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(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)
look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT
“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”
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I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits
lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl
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he seems genuinely confused lol
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Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart
lol they just took his word for it?
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so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao
“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude
NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN
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I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES
“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good
-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT
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really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh
AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...
WHAT DID I JUST SAY
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(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)
the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(
oi who the fuck is this clown
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is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist
easy there Sasori
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well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so
“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh
now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees
so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)
NO NOT MORE SAD EYES
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“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO
fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out
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this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen
OMGFGGG
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
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[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(゚◇゚へ)
THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP
HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!
JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS
IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???
LIGHTS!!!!
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INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!
(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.
and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.
this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.
but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.
and you know, it almost reminds me of...
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just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.
omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)
“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )
BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME
392 notes · View notes
obae-me · 3 years
Text
Upside Down CH-1
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Author’s Note: Hi, yes, hello, welcome to the fic series that no one asked for! Do I have other things I need to finish? Yes! But has this been the only thing on my mind for the past four days? Also yes! For some reason I was incapable of writing anything else! Thanks, brain, for this out of the blue obsession! 
Tags: Reverse AU
Word Count: 4587
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                                                      Next Chapter
Hell Away From Hell
Wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was a mistake. It had to be. Although, with every clink of your restraints, your reality was becoming ever clearer. The chains rattled, echoing down the hall like a set of twisted wind chimes. Ones that sung of your dismal fortune. The demon ahead of you yanked the lead attached to your cuffs, sending you stumbling forward. You bit your lip to keep from cursing. Steading your body, you took their less-than-subtle message and picked up the pace. Keeping your eyes glued towards your destination, your stomach sank to your knees. Why? Why had you been brought to the castle? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, not anything to warrant being escorted by the palace guards in chains. And as they led you silently inside, past the polished halls and gaudy antiques, your fate pounded just fervently in your mind as your heart was in your chest. 
They were going to present you in front of the prince. 
It was torture in and of itself just making it to the throne room. The worst part about it all was your rampant imagination. You could only imagine what type of horrific techniques the prince was aware of. Halting in front of the large double doors, the demon behind you moved to open the entrance. Holding it open, the guard tugging you along guided you in. You managed to take only a few steps inside the room before you were practically thrown inside, your body tumbling over the ground. Both the guards smirked at you, flashing their pointed fangs in their conceited gestures before shutting the door, leaving you alone inside. 
“MC.” All the air inside your lungs had conveniently escaped. Lifting your chest off the ground, you tightened your lips as you met his gaze. Those glistening emerald eyes pierced right through you. Quickly, you lowered your eyes, attempting to show as much respect as you could to gain his favor. 
“M-my lord.” 
The melodic note that left his throat was a mix between a laugh and a coo. “Now, now, none of that groveling. I had you brought here to ask you a favor!” You could hear him stand to his feet, and you watched his shoes approach, clicking against the marbled tile. Then, you felt the smooth skin of his hand caress your right horn. The sudden sensitive feeling had your tail rapidly twitch and tuck under your leg. He pushed your horns back, raising your chin so you could look up at him. His dark hair drifted down across his forehead, curling around his horns that curved above his head like a broken halo, his face soft and inviting, and yet your gut wouldn’t let you believe it. “Please, from now on, just call me Simeon.” 
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Simeon hummed as he lifted his tea cup to his lips. He had been hospitable enough, but you still couldn’t shake this feeling of unease. Plus...what he had brought you in to ask you was...well, something short of insanity. You continued to rub your wrists where your constraints had been. And as much as the prince of hell apologized for his guard’s brutish behavior, you had a feeling it was purposeful. A message of sorts. Even now, as he had his little servant bring in sweets and tea as sickly sweet as it could get, it all tasted bitter to your tongue. “So let me get this straight,” you started. “You want me to be a member of this…” 
The prince tilted his head, eyes practically shining. “Restoration program.” 
You cleared your throat after the little scone this blonde demon had given you made your throat run dry. “R-right. And I’m assuming I don’t have a choice in the matter?” 
His voice was soft, but the light reflecting off his horns and his fangs suggested another answer. “We all have choices, MC.” 
Swallowing your nervousness, you lowered your head again. “But, with all due respect, sir...why? Why a restoration program?” 
Another voice chuckled behind your figure. “Because, why not?” You strained your neck, getting a view at the newcomer behind you. White hair, a mischievous smile, and something unknown swimming at the back of those dark eyes. Not only that, but the figure was wearing clothes as pure as clouds, with a certain glow to him. 
Simeon stood, hand out to greet this person as if they were an old friend-and for all you knew, they might’ve been. “Solomon, how good to see you.” 
The new guest-now known to you as Solomon-beamed. “Likewise. You’re looking well.” He turned, giving you a once-over to take you in before nodding. “And you are MC, yes?” 
Glaring, already feeling your skin about to burn, you leaned away from him. “And you’re an angel.” Your distrustful attitude let him frown for just a moment, but whether it was just his angelic nature or his personality, that smile was right back on his face. 
“Yes, well, the plan requires an angel, so Simeon personally asked me for my hand in this matter.” 
The both of them could tell that you were unbelievably confused, so Simeon gestured for the angel to take a seat at the table. “Luke.” The prince gestured to his small servant, the one who had not only brought you sweets but had taken the liberty to be staring you down the entire time. Finally, he turned his attention away from you. “Please do me a favor and get our new guest some refreshments.” The lesser demon squinted at you, nearly growled at the angel, and then took his leave with rapid little steps. Simeon laughed quietly to himself. “Don’t worry about him, he’s not used to others quite yet. But, MC.” With your name mentioned, you straightened your posture. “I’ve been planning this for quite some time. It’s been a desire of mine to bring the three realms closer together.” You couldn’t help but wonder why, what purpose it served, but you kept your mouth shut. “And while I’ve started to make decent progress fixing the old wounds between the Devildom and Celestial Realm, most of my kingdom and Solomon’s people refuse to make connections with the humans.” 
Mortals...even just the mention managed to leave a heavy pit in your stomach. “If I may speak.” You waited for the prince’s go-ahead before speaking your mind. “What would be the point of connecting with the humans? They serve little purpose. They’re either so corrupt they destroy their own kind or they think they’re so pure they isolate themselves or get themselves killed in the name of their twisted justice.” Speaking so passionately against the idea, you didn’t realize your nails had grown into talons, leaving marks in the wooden table. You took a breath, reclaiming your typical form. “They can’t even do themselves any good, what makes you think they’d be good for our realms?” 
Solomon, an expression of understanding mixed with pity, bounced a little in his seat. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” He turned his head to Simeon, who was nodding at you with a bit of approval. 
“That’s what this plan is all about. Testing them, observing them. We’ll be watching these humans, and at the end of this project, we’ll be able to determine if they’re ready and worthy of being brought together with us.” The ruler crossed one leg over the other, his tone making it sound as it was as simple as eating pie. 
Setting down the fork to your pastry, you felt a sense of dread wash over you. “And by we you mean?” 
“Why, you and Solomon of course! A demon and an angel, both working together to restore the bond between the human world and ours! The Demonic and Angelic Restoration program! Or D.A.R. -dare- for short.” If it weren’t for the horns, you’d almost think this demon was an angel with the way he eagerly talked about restoring bonds and bettering the nature of the realms. But, then you felt nauseous. 
“What...what exactly do you need me to do to help with this...program? And why me?” 
It was actually the angel that spoke up. “I’m sure you’re aware of the Morningstars?” 
It was such a silly question, you ended up scoffing. “Who doesn’t down here? Those brothers are filled with so much corruption and chaos they end up fueling about half the lesser demons down here...why?” 
They both straight up ignored your question and instead asked you some of their own. Simeon leaned forward, looking at you intently. “It took me quite a bit of time to find you MC. Most people don’t know you exist, and those that do hardly know your name. You simply are known to most as Isolation. Is it true that you’ve never made a pact with a human? Rumor is that you even refuse to subsist off their sins. And you’ve never taken a soul? That’s typically unheard of nowadays.”  
Shifting in your seat, you gave it to them straight. “It’s true. I do whatever I can to avoid contact. Haven’t even seen a human in the past millennia. Haven’t talked to one in about twice that time.” 
Clapping his hands together, Simeon let out an amazed sigh. “Perfect. You will be able to have a fresh eye! A clean slate. An unbiased--well, mostly unbiased opinion. You won’t be tempted to corrupt them, you’ll give me honest answers.” 
“Plus,” the angel agreed, “if you have the strength and willpower to live without human sustenance and influence for this long, you probably will have the patience to keep from killing them. If anyone could manage to live with the Morningstars, it would be you, from what I’ve heard.” 
You were grateful you had put down your drink a while ago. Your breath caught in your throat. “Wait, excuse me, what did you say? Live...with the…” 
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“Mr. Morningstar!” A laugh, a handshake, even a pat on the shoulder, it nearly made you ill watching the upcoming king of the Devildom greet a human like this so casually. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at this mortal...one of the Morningstars, the eldest. The one who fueled the most demons without even knowing about it. People down in the Devildom called him by Pride. A human world CEO-whatever that meant. He was powerful, influential, not to mention ridiculously rich. And he’d do whatever it took to keep his status, even at the misfortune of plenty of other people. His suit and posture told you pretty much all you needed to know about him. A fancy well tailored pitch black suit, a striking red tie with a subtle but regal diamond design, diamond cufflinks, the works. It was as if dust and winkles knew to avoid him entirely. His hair was as dark as his suit, save for the ends which were greying. He didn’t seem that old, so you wondered if it was intentional or simply stress. You thought you heard someone say that once, that humans could get grey hair from stress. Did they all possess capabilities to change their hair based on their emotions? That human lady you saw outside the building with the blue hair must’ve been feeling something intense. 
“Mr-” The human you had come to see was cut off. 
“Please, you know to call me Simeon by now!” 
The mortal cleared his throat. “Simeon…” The human glanced at you, and raised his chin as he took Simeon by the shoulders and brought him away from you. If you had been a human, it would’ve been a decent tactic to keep you out of earshot. Unfortunately, you could still hear everything they were saying. “I know you have good standing with the company, and I’m pleased to know you respect and trust me with such a task, but...this is far from business.” You could feel his eyes on you. “I have to respectfully decline your request. I don’t think I can allow them to live with us for a year. You know my family.” 
“It would only be for a year, and I know you have plenty of room in that house of yours!” Simeon laughed a bit and then lowered his voice. You could feel the alluring pull of his influence flood the space. The human stiffened, his intuition picking up on a shift in the room. “Besides, Lucifer. You know I wouldn’t ask for a favor like this without some proper and well deserved remuneration. Listen...I happen to have something on the head of that business owner that’s been butting heads with your company. Wouldn’t it be nice to have them completely out of the picture? Not only is that increasing your profit, but if they happen to...I don’t know, completely go bankrupt, that little building of theirs on the corner of Main is some prime real estate.” Reaching into his pocket, Simeon pulled out a small...plastic...rectangle of sorts, with metal on one end. “I got everything right here.” Smiling, one hand firmly against Lucifer’s upper back, he looked him right in the eyes and whispered something you knew would have this human caught. “You can’t let them bother you like this. You need to show them and everyone else who you are, and that you’re not to be messed with.” 
It took the mortal a moment of internal struggle. Decline the offer and figure things out himself without assistance? Or swallow the smallest bit of ego for self satisfaction? Either way, this mortal was past helping. Already drowning in pride. Eventually, he gripped the object, tucking it into a pocket beneath his suit jacket. Despite being handed assistance, he still found a way to be demanding. “Alright, but no more than a year, and if I feel like anything is going awry, I’m sending them away. Is it really too unreasonable to just set them up on their own? Surely for you it’s no problem.” 
Backing up slightly after his incentive worked, Simeon shook his head. “I would feel endlessly guilty leaving alone, desolate, isolated, after what happened. Poor thing...they haven’t even said a word to me in days.” That last part wasn’t a lie. You’d nearly refused to say anything to him since being dragged to the human world. Prince or no prince. “My poor cousin, suddenly losing all their family like that. It’s tragic, isn’t it? Losing people you love?” 
Lucifer, with his arms folded, let his hand tightly grip the fabric of one of his sleeves. His eyes lowered the slightest touch, his jaw tightening. “It...is...I know it all too well.” You caught a hint of some emotion from the mortal. 
“Then you know that what would be best for them right now is company. Trust me, I wouldn’t have brought them to you if I didn’t think it would help. Besides, this is a win for all parties involved, right?” Simeon gestured to the gift Lucifer had tucked away, and the last string of resistance had been snipped. 
Sighing, the human looked at the luxurious watch on his wrist. “I’ll take them home. Let my brothers know what’s happening. Is it too much to assume they’ll be better behaved with a guest in the house?” 
Laughing once more, the prince shrugged. If only Lucifer knew who he was in the presence of. “You’ll all just have to find out!” Patting the other man on the shoulder, Simeon then came over to you with his arms outstretched. “It’s all settled, MC!” He pulled you into a hug, taking the time to speak quietly to you. “Remember to keep your identity a secret. I’ll be checking up on you and Solomon once a month for a report. Keep them safe. Play nice.” He pulled apart, coming around behind you and settling his hands on your shoulders. “And remember, what Mr. Morningstar is doing is unbelievably nice, so make sure to thank him and keep yourself out of trouble.” 
You broke your vow of silence out of irritation. “I’m not a child you’re sending away to school. I know how to keep my own head on my shoulders.” You attempted to brush his hands off but the grip was tightened. Swallowing your frustration, you kept yourself from grimacing, looking at the fabled Lucifer Morningstar. “Thank you...for letting me live with you.” 
For a human, he had a tenacity for picking up on things. He noticed your lie, giving you a stare down of his own before grabbing his phone. You only recently figured out what those devices were. Simeon had made sure he gifted you one of your own, since apparently it was the main source of communication in this realm. Too strange, but you picked it up fairly quickly. Lucifer just raised his head and pressed his cell against his ear. “Just make sure you refrain from being as irksome as my brothers.” The line he was dialing picked up. “Yes, have a driver prepare to come pick me up. And someone please contact my brothers for me so they know I’m bringing home a...guest.” 
It was going to be a long year…
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The...metal contraption rumbled, making your head feel light. Without magic to get around, they had to use...these things. The movement slowed till it came to a stop. Looking out the pane of glass, you peered forward to see what the issue was. A big red circular light shone a bright crimson in front of the lane. Was it a threat? If so, why was the world seemingly filled with them? Then the eye turned green and the long carriage rumbled back to life. It was completely different than the last time you had been here. 
“Before you even step foot in my home, we need to set some ground rules.” Even just the sound of his voice almost physically rubbed you the wrong way. You bit the inside of your cheek. Play nice, the prince had said. How long could you keep your patience around these mortals? You looked up at him, feeling him stare you down to the corrupt depths of your soul. “Since you’re going to be living with us for so long, you’re going to have to follow the same rules I give my brothers? Understand?” 
Was this all worth it? Would having your soul be torn to shreds be that bad? “Yes.” 
He nodded, then decided his attention would be better focused towards whatever he had on that electronic device of his. He gave you orders without even looking at you. No wonder all the lesser demons who fawned after him were so pretentious. “No parties. No pets. You can stay up however long you want, but you must be back at the house no later than midnight. You can have your own room but you must keep it clean, don’t expect me to hire a maid for you. You’re responsible for looking after yourself. I might be providing a roof over your head, but anything you need is up to you. You break anything, you’re responsible for replacing it. Just use the basic level of common sense and we should have no trouble. Hopefully the year will be over before we—oh excuse me.” Without another word he picked another call, his third one since you’d been blackmailed into this ride. You just gave a gentle sigh and stared out the window. Just a few days ago you’d still existed in your botherless existence. A personal utopia of your own making. Now you were in this...hell away from hell, the scent of smog and exhaust still burning the inside of your nose. 
The rest of the ride was spent with you trying to think of ways to escape this fate, but finding none in sight. You didn’t need to fully see the building to get this overwhelming wave of impurity. The tempting allure of sin. Practically a demon buffet. These morons were just screaming to be killed or worse, eaten. Even just approaching the gate to the driveway, you could see remnants of spirits, demons without full forms clawing at the fence. Wisps of black sinking into their sidewalk. But not even those, you could smell the presence of other lesser demons...but more dangerous ones. Outside the gate were small crowds, not too many, but enough to safely conceal their presence. Photographers, journalists, fans, wherever they were, they were eager to get in. And amongst the rabble stood demons pretending to be mortals in an attempt to sink their fangs into one of the Morningstars. You slunk down in your seat, trying to conceal your presence, but you were sure they’d be able to feel you. The car slipped past all of them, approaching the first set of gates. Whoever was patrolling the vehicle pressed their fingers against a small pad attached to a pillar by the gate. It waited for a moment, then made an affirming noise before the gate swung open. The cries of mortal and hidden demons alike pleading for the smallest sliver of attention from this human made you feel sick. 
Despite having nearly ignored you the whole time, Lucifer scoffed. “You’ll get used to it.” The curved metal fence shut behind you, and the sound of the crowd slowly faded as you pulled up in front of the massive house. If anything, it reminded you a little of home. It was an old fashioned looking house, but fanciful nonetheless. With dark stone, piercing towers, arched windows, and an overall gothic aesthetic. You managed to take a moment to breathe. At least there was one silver lining. Lucifer stepped out of the idle vehicle first, paying you no mind as he approached the steps to the door. Slightly panicking, you tried simply pushing the door before noticing the small handle. Pulling it unlocked it, and you rapidly exited, feeling the motion sickness fade with your feet on the ground. You followed the mortal to the door, and was slightly pleased when he put his phone away to open the door, leaving it open for you. Lucifer shut the door, a small high pitched noise ringing through your ears. You turned and watched him mess with a little panel near the door. “Our security is top of the market. I make sure the code is changed every day, so if you’re not inside by midnight, I hope you enjoy camping.” 
You were about to speak up about that, but both of you were bombarded with noise. A noise you would later learn to get used to. “Oi! Lucifer!” A bundle of energy came racing down the stairs. Wild hair, dark skin, rings on nearly every finger, you recognized this individual without having to ask his name. You could feel the influence. Greed. Demons almost loved this brother more than Pride, because from what you’d heard, he’d make deals impulsively with demons without knowing their true intentions. As long as money or something expensive was in front of him, he’d jump for anything. It had gotten him in more than enough trouble, and it made him too much of a prime target. At least Lucifer knew how to look over his shoulder. The second brother confronted the eldest. He didn’t even glance at you. “Hey, I need some cash! For some reason my card keeps declining...you can spot me right?” 
Lucifer didn’t even hesitate. “No.” 
“Eh? Why not?! I did that thing the other day for you, remember?” 
“Hm?” Lucifer tilted his head, taking the time to recall-or pretending to. “Which thing would that be? Would it have been before or after you stole and immediately maxed out my card?” Lowering his eyes, the older one gave off a menacing smile. 
Mammon took a step back, muttering. “O-oh you found about that, huh?” 
The smile turned into a full on yell. “Of course I found out! I got a call from the bank as soon as they saw the purchase! What exactly do you need a golden tiger statue for, Mammon? Seriously, you’re absolutely ridiculous! I returned it by the way, and in the meantime I cancelled all your cards.” Mammon went to open his mouth in anger but didn’t have the chance to say anything. “You can try to find some extra work to pay off all the bills you’ve left me with. And if I think you’re ready, I’ll reopen your accounts in two months.” The effort of shouting sent Pride’s eye twitching. He lifted a hand to press against his forehead, the blood draining from his face. You shifted ever so slightly in your spot and he groaned. “Right, you’re here. Mammon, this is MC.” 
Eyebrows raised, he jumped a little when he finally spotted you were in the room. “Wait, wait, wait, that whole thing with someone staying with us for a year wasn’t a joke?” 
“No.” Although the slight warble to his voice seemed that that fact was just now settling in. “It wasn’t. And since you’ve so kindly volunteered yourself, you can take their bags and show them to their room.” He simply turned. No welcome, no tour, no warmth in those cold eyes of his. 
“Hey! Come back here!” Yet the younger sibling showed no signs of chasing after him. “Lucifer!” His older brother just quickly headed up the stairs and disappeared into the house. Was it really going to require a full year of observation? Just from what you were seeing right now, you wanted nothing to do with humans. Nothing. Mammon ran a hand through his hair, one of his strands getting stuck in one of his rings, but he tugged it out without noticing, like it was a daily occurrence. “I can’t believe this.” You could watch as the anger started to swell within him. “Screw this, I’m out of here!” You were ready for him to leave, to give into his emotions. He had wrapped his hand around the door handle before he stopped. Pausing, he just tutted to himself before shoving his hands in his jacket-pockets, looking in your direction but not fully at you. “You want the guest room we have upstairs or down?” Loud, brash, rude in some ways, but there was a weird sort of innocence about him. You simply shrugged. He nodded, grasping one of your bags suddenly, gesturing you to follow. “I’ll give you the downstairs one. Most of our rooms are on the second floor, so it’s a bit quieter down here, plus it stays cooler.” He led you past the entrance hall and back into the rest of the house. “Plus, it’s easier to sneak out from here, but you didn’t hear that from me. I’m guessing Lucifer gave you the whole rule spiel?” 
You restrained the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah.” 
He hissed in air through his teeth. “Sucks, man, are you sure you want to stay here?” 
The pain around your wrists was still too prominent. Etched into your skin was a mark, a line of runes and symbols around your wrists. Who knew demons could give temporary pacts to other demons? Simeon ensured you a small fraction of his power, just in case you ran into trouble. But in exchange he had a hold on you, able to summon you to him whenever he needed you. It was your chain keeping you imprisoned here. There was no running. There was no hiding. “I didn’t have a choice.”
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punemy-spotted · 3 years
Text
Of Blackbirds and Barons: Chapter 1
Chapter 1: You Make The Rain Fall Harder
Relationships: Mob!Helmut Zemo x Reader; CEO!Billy Russo x Reader; Mob!Helmut Zemo x Reader x CEO!Billy Russo
Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con; Dark!Fic; Mob and Mafia Elements; Character Death (Minor and Major); Threesome; Possessive/Obsessive Characters; Blackmail/Coercion; Kidnapping; Mentions of War; Human Rights Violations; Contract Killing; Mafia AU; Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat; Complete Disregard for Actual Rules of Journalism and Style Guides; Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply
Chapter Specific Warnings: Non-con; Drugging/Date-Rape; Fingering (F-Receiving); Vaginal Sex; Unprotected Sex; Possible Breeding Kink; Kidnapping; Obsessive/Possessive Zemo; Dark!Zemo; Human Rights Violations; Discussion of Destruction of Novi Grad and Sokovia; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Chapter Summary: The problem with having sympathy for the Devil is that he will drag you down to Hell regardless.
Author’s Notes: Another series! Because I can’t get enough of Mob!AUs! Zemo makes his dark entrance. And this IS dark, so read at your own discretion. As always, all of my work is 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Masterlist
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The long tradition of the Duchy of Sokovia, that which once stood the test of time against the Tsars of Russia, began to crumble long before its borders did, its sweeping architecture and decadent mystery giving way to the sharp lines of Brutalism and the characteristic industrialism of the Eastern Bloc. Still, the Sokovian people managed to maintain their identity in the face of a new kind of empire, bringing greenery and art to a brisk, concrete world.
There is no Sokovia now, not the way one would think, but there are still Sokovians scattered around the world, clinging to the traditions of their once-home and searching for a banner to be united under.
A banner carried by a man like Helmut Zemo.
The caret blinks back at you with a mocking sort of finality, a metronome counting down the seconds to your ultimate frustration. Once. Twice. Thrice — you lose count, staring at the screen until your vision crosses and the words blur together, until only his name remains.
Zemo.
Baron Helmut Zemo.
Your notes are expansive, excessive, papers strewn about you and you look at each scribbled anecdote, each carefully dictated word, each photograph you have annotated until it is more red marker than actual picture and you are… frustrated.
Where do you put all that passion? He asked you over champagne and charcuterie.
You know this man.
You know this man like you know your own soul. You know this man who has bared his soul to you in turn and how are you supposed to impress upon the world that he has shown you the broken heart beating slow and painful in his chest in just a thousand words?
There is nothing. Nothing you can do, nothing you can saywhich could even begin to encompass the horrors which he has experienced and now as you painstakingly tap out word after word describing the grand beauty of his apartment, you wonder if this really was what your life was meant to be.
These are… fluff.
This is a man who has managed to unite an entire fractured country under his royal banner and yet the project wants to know about the indoor garden of his apartment, wants to photograph him in fine suits and know his haircare routine and this can’t be it. This can’t be the face of the man you see everywhere now, moreso since you picked up the assignment, purple-masked and surrounded by brass wings, over the homes of Sokovians all over New York.
And not just there.
I am a man, he told you with his hand on your thigh, But I can become an idea. And an idea is immortal.
You let your eyes skim over the photographs you took, a collection of banners and graffiti and billboards all proclaiming the need for the Sokovian people to come together and heal. To show that their small country — broken and divided in the wake of an attack by a rich megalomaniac’s private military — could not be taken down simply because its borders had been erased and its capitol turned to rubble.
We live in an age of information, and through information we are boundless.
It should terrify you.
It does terrify you.
But inside of that terror is a sick fascination with the man, isn’t there? That’s the trouble with you investigative types — peel back the layers enough and you find yourself capable of feeling sympathy for anyone.
He flaunts his power, and yet it’s innocent. Is it so wrong, then, to want to bring my country back to its glory?
No, you remember answering shakily, but not as well as you remember the pinpricks of heat his fingers left on your skin when that gloved hand brushed over you arm.
Breathe deep, hover fingers over your keyboard and try not to feel like you owe him the weight of the world. He approved of this, even suggested a word count and a topic of conversation — any chance to put his name out into the consciousness of the public, it seemed, to raise interest for the gallery by raising interest for the cause. Make it indulgent. My people, they enjoy art. They enjoy knowing that their leaders have preserved the past for them.
So do it.
… Baron Zemo’s New York penthouse is its own garden amongst a sea of steel and stone, a veritable museum of priceless artworks rescued from what remained of Sokovian museums and ministry buildings. It is, in its own way, an ode to the spirit of Sokovia, which lives on in the hearts and minds of its people around the world. He displays artworks of the many displaced Sokovians, gesturing broadly to a 3D model of an art gallery he intends to have built near the memorial at Novi Grad — with the consent of the Slovakian government — and speaking fondly of his intention to showcase the lost art of Sokovia as a reminder that loss of land cannot be the loss of an identity…
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The artworks, they will be painful at first. But the gallery will showcase more and more, and eventually we will have hope.
He waves a gloved hand over the pieces he has preserved. Sokovian history. Scenic expanses, fields and flowers, a city skyline dotted with domed cathedrals. Each painting marred some way too, you can see when you look close. Patched canvas, the dusting of ash and rubble in the corner of an ornate frame, a trick of the light revealing repainting to cover up damage.
A stone hoof sits on a bookshelf, The attached horse and rider blown to rubble in the attack. I’m told it was of Emperor Ferdinand, but my archivists have not been able to confirm, he tells you as he stands behind you, his hand resting soft on the small of your back.
Come. There is more to be seen.
More to be experienced.
His living room is a garden.
It smells like fresh jasmine the moment you walk in, ivy climbing the walls and you swear you can hear birdsong from more than the pigeons cooing outside. Flower arrangement is an often looked down upon art, but the gardens in Sokovia were impeccable. My father won several awards for his pieces before his…
He trails off and you watch him, seeing the pain paint his face as openly as if he meant for you to watch the facade crack and then back to that placid, pleasant calm, a serpentine smile on his face as he extends to you a hand and guides you to the open air of his balcony and bids you Sitbids you Enjoy bids you I have looked forward to his meeting.
It is a pleasure to meet you, Baron Zemo, you begin politely, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and trying to avoid the way his eyes follow your fingers, feeling seen, We’re grateful for the honor of your patronage for this piece, we know you could have —
Nonsense, he cuts you off with a wave of his hand, gesturing to his butler and then leaning back comfortably in his seat as champagne and various cheeses are brought forth, You are my guest, and I am grateful you agreed to come meet me here, to assist with my… project. Now. Please, enjoy, I do not want to treat this as strictly business.
Is that why he had you come alone?
Don’t.
Don’t dwell on it.
It happens all the time, right? It has to.
A somewhat reclusive man, not keen to be in the limelight, in need of public attention to achieve his goals — you are a means to an end and he is your means to an end, surely you can understand.
Is that why he wipes the honey from your lips and kisses it off his fingers?
This is going to be a difficult conversation and you know it. You can only gush over houseplants and rose décor for so long before it becomes… trite, before you’re a part of the problem, painting a shining veneer over a half-decade old injustice
But he is warm, warm and friendly and you cannot help but laugh to his response when you draw attention to the architecture to draw attention from your blush — Very modern, yes. We are in New York, after all, and the old ways are fine for country houses but not so fine, for sunny penthouse apartments —not noticing the way he looks like he’s just smelled blood at the sound of it, the narrowing of his eyes and the hiding of his inscrutable expression behind a sip of champagne.
Well then. Shall we get started?
Of course.
Why don’t we start with your plans for opening night?Your notepad is out, the recorder sitting in front of you to pick up the sound of your voice and his, ready to commit everything to memory.
Of course. We cannot deny the… elephant in the room, I think you Americans call it. There are many who took pictures of the aftermath of the attack, and not enough who have seen it immortalized…
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… The tragedy of Novi Grad and the consequential absorption of Sokovia into its surrounding countries weighs heavy in the Baron’s living room, draped in ivy and jasmine and hanging vines but also in photographs of what was left after a private military corporation chose to turn human lives into a war game.
No one knows who Ultron is, only that he is dangerous, that his technology rivals that of the SHIELD Syndicate’s Tony Stark, that he is willing to ally himself to the highest bidder, and that he is fully capable of unleashing endless destruction upon the world…
You will never forget the photographs he shows you, all that death and destruction in the golden light of his balcony, all that warmth and all you can see is cold bodies bathed in concrete dust.
They call to you, when you close your eyes — answer for our crimes — and you remember the way his voice changes too, so soft and solemn, the brush of fingers against yours when you touch the bombed out shell of a country mansion My home, in Sokovia, to the gray-and-blood horror which forms the centerpiece of his display, and you remember your research too, that the Baron is a widow, that his title is inherited from the most tragic of circumstances, that his son was an innocent lost in the attack and you are furious too, at the senselessness of it all.
It is a tragedy yet unanswered for, more than half a decade since the dust settled.
That quote sits front and center on your mock-up, wondering if you could make whatever editor who would inevitably rip this piece to shreds — just before publishing its corpse alongside some glamour picture of the Baron his coat — finally see the error of ignoring the tragedy. You won’t, but it’s worth a shot, as you lean back in your chair and stare at the screen again.
Sometimes you think about it.
Watching Novi Grad happen from the comfort and safety of your living room, wrapped in blankets as open war broke out in the capital city of what had once been a crown jewel in an ancient dynasty. A playground, a show of force.
Sometimes you hear the screams.
The blinking carat waits for you to add more to this story, to decide where you want to go.
… The Baron plays a game with his interview, insists on knowing his guests just as we insist on getting to know the enigmatic leader who has risen up a beacon for the displaced people of his homeland. We will not be recreating our answers in this article, as they were of course of a personal nature, but we do thank the Baron for taking the time to get to know us just as he bared his soul, his sorrows, and his hopes to a gaggle of strangers seeking to make him known to the world…
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Tell me of you, sweetling.
Me? This interview is about you.
And so I must tell all my secrets for free? No, I insist. A secret for a secret.
He watches you with a hunger, coal-black eyes an invitation. Slide your gaze away or fall and who knows what depths he will drag you into and what you will find there?
No.
Don’t look, don’t look as you sip the tea Oeznik brought when you politely declined the champagne — Another time, probably — and let it brace you with its bitterness, let it clear your head.
Breathe.
You’re in too deep now, trapped in this cave of wonders… and wouldn’t it be worth it? Know him as he knows you, follow the trajectory of the smiling man before you.
What would you like to know?
Tell me how you taste his eyes whisper.
Tell me what it would take says the curve of his fingers over your hand.
Let me put you on display hums the razor-blade of his smile.
Tell me what drives a woman to take on such a … dangerous line of work, is the final inquiry, innocent and curious and gentle and you sip your tea and smile.
Is it dangerous?
You must know how many secrets you uncover — and the lengths the keepers will go to in order to hide them.
If people get hurt, shouldn’t I bring that to light?
How noble of you, he tells you with another hum, with his fingers squeezing yours, with his eyes fixed on the gaze you refuse to send his way, It must be quite thrilling.
Let me thrill you too, sweetling.
Pull away.
Do it.
Pull your hand away, make an act of it, pick up a candied strawberry and press it past your lips, let the sweetness soak your tongue and wash away the bitter thoughts, let yourself be bright and chipper and pretend you are not afraid.
Because you’re not.
Of course you’re not.
You are in control here, you must be in control here.
This is nothing. This is a casual interview with a handsome man in his handsome penthouse, an interview about architecture and art galleries and you were a correspondent once and you are meant to be friendly here, not afraid, so what are you afraid of?
What is it about his coal-dark eyes and too-sharp smile that turns your blood, that sends you back into your hutch, little rabbit, what is it about the way he prowls at the corner of your thoughts that makes you shudder so?
What are you running from?
Who are you running from?
Your turn, sweetling.
Mmh?
Our deal, or have you forgotten already?
Yes. You have.
It’s his eyes, you keep insisting to yourself. They drag you in, so dark it feels like you’re drowning in the void of them, searching for the light at the end of the tunnel.
It’s a chase.
It’s what you’re good at.
Right — I’m sorry, I’m…
You blink.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
The fog in your thoughts doesn’t fade, confusion crossing over your features and ill delight crossing over his. All you had was tea, tea and some of the candied fruit his butler brought for your enjoyment, how can you feel so…
Hazy?
So…
Upturned?
Something clatters behind you and you realize it’s the chair you were sitting on as you stand, unsteady and abrupt, lost in the moors of your own frantic thoughts and there is his hand on your elbow, so careful and soft and there are his lips before yours, so…
Tempting.
Somewhere, a woman croons to you of falling rain and rushing blood and the room does spin round as you stand still in the open air of a desire that is yours and not your own all at once. Shhh, shhh, let me help you whispered in your ear, a hand to your cheek and you…
You blink.
Reality flows into view like a sudden bath of ice water. Jerk away from his iron grip, raise your hands and try to resist, shake your head and N-no, I think. I think I need to go, I’ll just call a cab —
I cannot let you do that, sweetling. Not when you are finally within my reach.
His hold is steady. Unbreakable, even, as he pulls you close and you might even be dancing with the way his arm wraps around your waist the moment you fall into his chest, Don’t look so afraid, sweetling. No one will hurt you, here.
I will protect you like a jewel.
Your mind is still yours — the dose was just enough — but your limbs? Your limbs are tied to his strings, lost as he guides you right back inside, lost as he gestures for Oeznik to close off the balcony.
Your place is somewhere else now.
You belong underneath me.
He guides you inside, jasmine intoxicating your senses and wisps of smoke seeming to float past your eyes. Reality blends into the fantasy, the Baron and his prize, the gentle touch against your soft cheek, the cradling against his form and he is…
Determined.
A door opens. A portal into another kind of decadence, with soft sheets and softer touches, the sliding of a mouth over yours as your escape clicks shut behind you and you are pressed between wall and man and you are consumed.
Curl your fingers into the lapel of his coat, lose yourself to the pressure of his lips, the sharp nip of teeth against soft flesh. He tastes of champagne and honeycomb and you are saccharine on the tongue, a mess of sighs and admonitions left unsaid.
My precious thing, whispered into your unfocused sighs, I will take such fine care of you.
And you want to protest, want to insist you are free you are uninterested you do not want this man and his hands under the cotton of your blouse but the words tangle on your tongue and instead all you can do is whimper.
Whimper, and hear him chuckle against your skin, a line of kisses drawn from your parted lips along your jaw until he’s found the thrum of your pulsebeat to draw a gasp the moment his teeth scrape against the delicate skin. He must mark you his, after all, and this he will gladly renew, over and over.
Over and over as he draws you to bed, lays you amongst soft cushions and softer sheets, indulges in the soft curves of you in the golden glow of the room. Your clothes — so conservative, so professional, so unnecessary — he makes short work of even with what mild resistance you manage, Shh, shh, do not fight me.
The heat is yours and not yours all at once, warming your skin and leaving you flushed, leaving a trail of burning want along your skin where his fingers trace over you and centering in your core You need this, sweetling, look at you…
Do you?
Is it you who needs this or he, he who has begun to kiss along your skin, he who presses himself between your legs so impatiently? The accusation lives in your thoughts and passes past your lips as a strangled Nnh-no, ignored without ceremony or appeal.
Protests are useless when your tongue can form no words and your limbs can do nothing but writhe, seeking structure in the grip of his sheets as he unravels you with a press of his lips to that soft center of yours, slick with a need you cannot own and yet all yours.
He maps you with a hungry gaze, fingers already tracing the plushness of your folds, gathering slick like he might have been collecting nectar and you watch him pull back, watch him bring his hand to his mouth, watch him wrap lips around his fingertip and drag the taste of you onto his tongue, One day I shall make you taste how sweet you are…
One day, after he has savored you so deeply.
You are so full of words they burst out of you on a normal day and yet nothing you say comes to light, just the bare whimpers and anxious mewls of your needy self as he returns to inspecting, to enjoying, to savoring the reactiveness of your body.
He touches. He touches as if he has owned your body a thousand times, he touches as if you are delicate, as if you are breakable, as if his fingers might lead you to shattering around him here and now and you…
Are so close, already.
So close, trying to find the strength in your muscles to pull away, to speak something beyond desperation with every curl of fingers against your cunt, with every pleased hum he utters in response to the flex of your sex. Shh… no more fighting, sweetling, I know you can be good.
He knows you can be good, he says, with all the innocence of a man trying to convince his cat to stop clawing the couch, not a man presently holding your legs open with one hand at your thigh and the other curling against your walls while you arch your back. It builds, the pressure, it builds and builds and builds and — Let go, sweetling. Let me see your ecstasy.
Is that what this is?
You keen. You keen softly, desperately, brokenly, as skilled fingers find the spot which makes you, which leaves you breathless and flushed and sobbing, a trickle of tears making their path down your cheeks as you bite your own lip to muffle the sounds you did not know you could make. Wordless and pleading and he notices with a cold smile the way you seem to succumb, hips no longer desperate to escape the curling, stretching assault of two — no, three — fingers preparing you for him.
Hips pressing back towards him now, a betrayal of your conscious-yet-barely-focused mind, that lustful sweetness in you taking over and he can only watch in awe. Awe not at your surrender but at your perfection, muttering in a language you do not understand and yet you understand perfectly what he means — he will have you, all of you.
Ah, I shall so enjoy playing with you more, sweetling.
But not now.
Now his impatience outpaces your need and both outpace his cruelty, his desire to see you beg and so instead he pulls back his hand — and hears the desperate N-no, please don’t — to bring a cruel gleam to his dark eyes and even barely conscious as you are you know he is beautiful.
Beautiful and cruel, as he frees himself and curls fingers around his cock, rubs your own slick onto that soft skin, hisses at the very feel of you like it must be a preview to how you will make him throb, and presses himself over you. Presses himself over you, absorbs the cry of pain or anguish or relief which pours from your plush lips with the punishment of a kiss just as he sinks, hips pressing against yours, stretching you with his full length and Now we are one, my sweet.
Now we are one.
He will take fine care of you but you, you take finer care of him, so plush and tight around his senses, so desperate as you cling, so lost and wanton and he kisses away the tears which continue to sting your cheeks and hisses half-sensible promises into your ear — You will always be mine — as he ruts his hips and practically shoves you forward with every thrust, dragging you back with a snarl and the pressure builds.
Builds and you moan, builds and you sob into his hungry mouth, builds and you hold to him as if he were the last thing which made sensein the world builds and you are consumed and he is consuming, and the release is both of yours, spilling deep inside of you and that too is the final shackle upon your soul.
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You sit. In the darkness of your office and you remember, worrying the cuticle of your thumb and staring at the words you have typed while your memory drifts back to that hazy reminder.
… A discussion with the Baron about Sokovia reveals a country rich with history. Once a Duchy of the Hapsburgs during the era of the Holy Roman Empire, the deeply Catholic country clings to the Austrian and Italian tradition of ceremony and indulgence. Baron Zemo plays an example of the hymns sung in the many cathedrals which once filled the country, a mixture of Sokovian and Latin to raise the soul to divine heights.
The Baron speaks of the country’s culture with a warm fondness, of how even during Soviet occupation, the people managed to enjoy games like ice hockey, and football (the European, variant, the Baron would like to emphasize), and even spent time indulging in horse racing. Surrounded by Slovakia and the Czech Republic, it keeps a similar tradition, with a twist…
No, that cannot encompass all that you discussed, and yet that is what the recording shows, words traded back and forth which you do not remember, a conversation of laughter and warmth and none of it slots into what your mind tells you occurred.
You erase. You rewrite. It is the same passage, over and over, fingers acting unbidden of your frantic will and eventually you give in, demand to be done with these words and this screen, eventually you desire peace.
… Baron Helmut Zemo is many things. A historian, an ambassador, a politician, an activist. He is a widower, a man trapped in the past, a man with lofty dreams for the future. He wears his sorrow as well as he wears his happiness, and for those who still call themselves Sokovian, he is their shepherd into a new age.
And as the door to your office opens, your keeper.
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icequeenbae · 3 years
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Daddy’s Struggles (m) | BBH
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Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader
Dad!Baek, domestic au, established relationship (duh), a slice of life, fluff, a lil smutty(!)
Warnings: some friskiness between mom and dad if you know what I mean, mentions of teenagers watching porn (I’m not promoting it, you guys lol), also this gets fluffin’ sweet get a bucket in advance
Word Count: ~2.2k
Summary: Baekhyun overhears your teenage daughter watching porn. You have to handle a small crisis.
Event: the BBH day @supermwritersnet​
© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.
Author’s Note: This… came out of nowhere:D I blame my dear beta @baekshoney​​ – we'd once discussed the idea of Baek being a teenager’s parent (in relation to a different story). Don’t we all love dilf Baek though? lol Anyways, this is a tiny glimpse into his future as a cute af father and husband <3 Let’s name him puppydad!Baek 😊 I hope this lifts your mood a little on a day like this!
On that note – happy birthday to our genius idol (aka mochi-cheeked hyperactive puppy), I wish that he stays healthy and happy and on the radar throughout the next 2 years (and forever)!! Don’t be too sad, guys, he’s hopefully going to finally lead a somewhat normal life for a bit 💞 Ok, I’ll let you get to it already~
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A yawn.
You rubbed your tired eyes and dictated a reminder for tomorrow morning to your AI assistant. It was pretty late and you had your hands full all day with your kids. And while family time was always great, there hadn’t been a spare moment for you to tend to your own business. But two decades of dealing with your hyperactive yet loveable children (and husband) taught you to make the most out of what you got. So you were doing just that, organizing your errands and sorting important emails after everyone had scurried off to their rooms, and your husband — to the shower.
Baekhyun was quite exhausted himself, so you realized he must’ve gotten in the common bathroom by the time you exited the one in your bedroom. He did that sometimes when you locked the door out of habit. Not that he couldn’t come in, it was just… You used to scold him pretty badly for breaking into the bathroom. Picking locks wasn’t something you wanted your juniors to acquire as a habit. They had enough of their daddy’s traits as it was.
The thought made you chuckle. Your eldest son had already outgrown his father by at least five and a half – gotta be precise here! – centimeters (which made daddy very proud, but also a teeny tiny bit jealous). Despite his height, which, you were sure, was going to break the golden 180cm in the next few months, your boy’s build was exactly the same as Baekhyun’s. His shoulders were broad, his hips wide, and his waist was naturally narrow. Legs long and lean, and eyes always mischievous. He was eighteen and already seemed more like Baekhyun’s best friend rather than his child. Being both the hyung and the oppa of the household, he was the most mature out of the bunch, and always a big help to his parents.
Your middle child, your precious daughter, resembled you a lot. Her wavy hair and her big eyes with the longest eyelashes either of you’d ever witnessed. Seriously, that was the first thing Baekhyun’s friends had commented on when they came by to meet your new baby. ‘Is this even normal? Can she see through those? That’s one pretty baby!’ She was even prettier now, at her sweet sixteen, cheeks still a bit chubby, which – just as her button nose – were definitely an homage to her dad. Not to mention her hands that were even more delicate and exquisite than his.
The youngest, your six-year-old son, was a blessing. You weren’t planning to have more children after the first two until you suddenly thought… why not? Cannot say that you weren’t a little bit under the influence at the time. It was one of those rare weekends when your kids had a sleepover at their grandparents’, so you had the whole house to yourself. Deciding to have a domestic date and enjoy shameless daytime drinking, you indulged in a whole glass of wine before both of you were tipsy and giggling, then you added one more to the mix. At that point, all kinds of crazy things were brought up.
‘We should do this more often…’ You informed your partner. ‘This is exciting! We can walk around naked the way we used to before we had teenagers in the house!’
‘I miss our naked Saturdays…’ Baekhyun whined, almost spilling his wine while trying to sip it gracefully. ‘Now I barely even see you naked with your shower locking obsession!’
Pursing your lips, you dismissed his complaint.
‘After that incident… You cannot blame me for my caution.’
The incident was, well, your son needing to use the bathroom while his sister was taking too long and heading to the one in your bedroom. He nearly walked in on… an adult scene.
‘He didn’t even see anything, Y/N-ah,’ your husband grumbled, but you waved him off, downing your drink as if it was a shot of tequila rather than a glass of wine.
‘I don’t see a problem though,’ he blinked at you, not following. ‘We’re alone. Why not… See each other naked again?’
‘Right. We can also- Y/N-ah!’
‘What?’ You eyed his suddenly enthusiastic form with nothing but suspicion.
‘We can create a distraction!’
‘Hm?’
‘A distraction for them. So that they’d be busy with something else while we’re away.’
‘Hmm?’ You still couldn’t locate the source of his excitement.
‘Lemme show you,’ he slurred, tugging on your wrist to get you up and dragging you to the bedroom.
Let’s have another baby – that was his brilliant idea. Had you both not been such poor drinkers, one of you would’ve thought this through.
Nevertheless, you were glad that you didn’t. Because your little angel, who could sometimes be more of a tiny demon, to be frank, was the single sweetest thing to ever exist on planet Earth. He had his entire family wrapped around his little finger, and you – most of all. How could anyone blame you? That troublemaker was the spitting image of his dad and had a personality to match — just as playful and affectionate.
The chill spring breeze from the window licked at the bare skin of your arm, causing you to shiver slightly, coming back from the land of reminiscing. You stretched on the bed, noticing how protruding your nipples became from the cold even while hidden by the gentle fabric of your nightgown. Pulling the covers up, you grunted under your breath, wondering what was taking Baekhyun so long.
Just as you did, the door cracked open, and your husband sauntered into the room.
‘Ah finally, I thought I needed to go rescue you again,’ you chuckled.
That had happened before. He once used the common bathroom to shower before bed and ended up captured by your daughter, who was around six or seven at the time, in the hallway. She then demanded cuddles, knowing that her father was too weak to turn his precious girl down and send her back to bed. You found them both huddled up asleep on the couch, with your husband’s head tilted dangerously to the side. Terrible sleeping postures always had consequences, so you spared him the agony of the next morning, waking him up mercifully and helping to get your little girl to her bed. This was only one of many occasions – Baekhyun was a softie.
This time, however, he was a bit stupefied.
He didn’t react to your remark and seemed like he was going on autopilot when he came closer and sat on the bed.
You lifted the covers, inviting him to join you, and he followed your lead, still staring at the wall across the room.
‘Yeobo,’ you called, getting slightly alarmed. ‘Are you okay?’
He blinked, the stupor breaking, and looked at you with astounded eyes.
‘I- I think,’ he began, making you shift to face him properly. ‘I think I just overheard our daughter watching porn!’
His voice lowered to a whisper by the end of that sentence.
‘Oh my god,’ you whispered back. ‘How do you figure?’
‘I was walking down the hallway, and I thought I heard something from her room. I didn’t fully register what it was, but now that it processed… It was definitely porn!’
The signs of distress on his face almost caused you to break down in a fit of laughter. You held it in with all you got. Fathers and daughters, the eternal struggle.
‘First of all, ew. Aren’t you even a little bit ashamed to be eavesdropping on your kids like that?’ You didn’t let him protest. ‘Also, how do you even know it was porn, you know she sometimes mumbles and whimpers in her sleep. Like someone else we know…’
Giving him a pointed look, you leaned over his chest to turn the lights to the lowest mode, leaving the room dimly lit. It was always effective when you wanted to help him relax.
‘I wasn’t ea- And you think I can’t tell what porn sounds like? There are some generic… sounds. That give it away.’
‘When was the last time you watched it?’ You murmured, eyeing him curiously.
Of all people, you knew best how short his attention span was. Sometimes it could work to your advantage. Like right now, when you needed to de-escalate this before you could reason with him.
‘I- wh- I don’t know, probably when you were pregnant,’ he recalled. ‘The third one was somehow the toughest on me. You looked way too attractive for a heavily pregnant lady, let me tell you.’
‘Heavily pregnant??’ You scoffed, softening right after. ‘Well, you have a point, he was pretty huge. I swear, if he doesn’t grow up to be taller than Chanyeol, I’d be offended. That boy’s giant head prolonged my healing by at least a month.’
Baekhyun sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking back to that time.
‘He was the only one who caused you to tear, right?’
‘Yeah. Which is weird, considering that he was my third one. Ah well, I guess I’m not getting any younger…’
‘Aren’t you though? I’m constantly being asked about my pretty young wife,’ Baekhyun smiled at you charmingly. ‘And you only became prettier after the third pregnancy. I say it’s the hormones.’
Your cunning little plan was working. He was incredibly easy to distract.
‘Tell me the truth, was it the boobs? Or my butt? I did gain the most weight with the little daredevil, that’s for sure.’
‘It was all of you. You always looked so sexy when pregnant, I just wanted to have you all to myself,’ he cooed at you. ‘To feed you handpicked strawberries. And smother you with kisses. My beautiful young wife.’
At some point during this conversation, you shuffled closer to each other, now cuddled up snugly on the bed. Your finger slowly traced abstract patterns on his chest, happily exploiting the access to his skin where his pajama shirt was unbuttoned.
‘Ah, you’re just saying that to get under my nightgown,’ you batted your eyelashes at him, and he shook his head.
‘Maybe a little, but that’s true. And it’s not surprising that people are noticing – you are younger than me.’
‘A couple of years is nothing at our age,’ you murmured, bending your knee and moving your leg slightly up his to get cozy.
‘Well, you know what people say… Small kids make parents younger. Wanna have another one?’ He nudged you gently and laughed at the dirty look you gave him.
‘Yeobo- please don’t make jokes like this. I’d rather look for other elixirs of youth than go through that entire ordeal again.’
You knew that he was kidding, but the thought made you shiver.
‘I know, honey, I know. Like I said, you’re not in need of any elixirs.’
At this you relaxed, melting into his shoulder, and guiding his arm to wrap around you, warming your exposed shoulders.
‘Well, Mr Byun, same to you. Still as charming as two decades ago.’
‘Hey, I’d like to think that I’m more charming now. The experience and all.’
‘Who helped you gain all that experience though?’ You poked him lightly, and a low chesty laugh escaped his lips.
‘Of course, it was my one and only, my young, and beautiful, and smart and sexy little wife,’ he punctuated each compliment with a chaste kiss to your cheeks, nose, lips, and neck.
You squirmed in his arms.
‘Ah, you make a woman go mad,’ you purred into his lips mockingly.
He snickered softly, ready to lean in, but then stopped abruptly.
‘Wait a second- What about-’
‘Baekhyun…’ You murmured as he fussed on the bed.
‘I should probably go in there, and-’
‘And what? Embarrass your daughter?’ You held him down. ‘She’s sixteen, honey, it’s just the hormones. We’ve both been there. Let her be.’ You nuzzled his neck, pressing your lips to his sensitive skin lazily.
His mind was growing cloudy again since your hand was now caressing his inner thigh foxily. He’d probably realized what you were doing by now, but you were right, so he allowed you to sway him into giving the idea of an immediate intervention up.
‘Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t be nearly as appalled if that was our eldest,’ you scoffed and added in an exaggerated tone. ‘Never took you for a sexist.’
‘But- he’s eighteen, and she- she’s my little girl…’ He mumbled in a small voice, hazed further by your not-so-subtle seduction. ‘I can’t let her- watch that-’
‘Don’t worry, yeobo,’ you whispered soothingly in his ear, slipping your hand into his loose pants. ‘I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Without you. No need to traumatize the poor girl, that’s how daddy issues develop.’
‘You should know,’ he bit back meekly, sighing when you finally wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard length.
‘The sass! It’s almost like you still got it, Mr Byun. Care to impress that young wife of yours?’
‘I sure will, you cunning woman,’ he growled playfully, completely giving in to it and attacking your laughing mouth as he lifted the covers over your head.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! As usual, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments/ asks, and if you’re new – check out my Masterlist ^^
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obsidiancreates · 3 years
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A Basic Breakdown Of My Vampire Egos from My Base Vampire AU
Dark: Was turned by Actor in the 1920's, a small sliver of The Manor Entity is stuck in his soul and has influence over him. He fought to maintain his sanity for 30 years, but Celine's death broke him and The Sliver gained a lot of power. He's now obsessed with building a "family". He picks a target, stalks them, lovebombs them, makes them dependent on him, and turns them. He always asks first, only two have said no. He turned them anyway. He gaslights the family a lot, and basically keeps the entire city they live by under his thumb to make hunting easier.
Doc: Didn't want to be turned, always trying to escape. Vampires need to feed once a day to be healthy, Doc will push himself to almost two weeks without feeding. He despises Dark. He's forced to be the family doctor. Whenever he tries to escape, Dark always manages to catch him again. But Doc is made of Spite and A Moral Compass, so he always tries again. Dark's favorite, because Dark sees a lot of Damien in Doc and wants Doc to become just like Dark.
Bim: A total asshole. Raised by neglectful and abusive rich parents, he became obsessed with Getting Attention and Taking His Rage Out On Others. Also has the world's biggest ego. He runs the city's most popular gameshow, and no-one realizes that the contestants actually die. Everyone thinks it's CGI and special effects, and Dark helps cover up that the murders are real. Bim wants to be Dark's favorite more than anything, and is violently jealous that Dark pays so much attention to Doc. If Dark wasn't there to stop him, Bim would kill Doc.
Bing: A cyborg-vampire. He woke up in a junkyard with no memories, only know that he was a cyborg and his assigned name was Bing. He made his way to the city and met Dark while working a shitty job, and Dark became Bing's only friend. Bing suffered a lot from overheating issues and such in the past, but becoming a vampire fixed all of that. Dark saved him, so hes blind to Dark's true nature. He just wants Doc to be happy, but in those efforts adds to the gaslighting and invalidation of Doc's feelings because he just can't believe that Dark has any plans or feelings for them other than Caring. Best friends with Yancy.
Yancy: First person fully turned by Dark in the 50's, very soon after Celine died. At first he was horrified and fled but after killing his parents in a fit of Feral Hunger he went back to Dark as a form of self-punishment. Now convinces himself that Dark's belief of "Everyone is in The Family because Fate Says They Should Be" is true, because otherwise it means his parents died for less than no reason. Former musical actor, now only hums tunes to himself when no-one else is around. Best friends with Bing.
Host: Same basic backstory as in the Cyndago videos, but when he got shot Dark (whom had been his friend for a while) smelled the blood while walking over and came in. Dark turned Host right before Host bled out. Host's powers mutated thanks to the Vampire DNA and he lost his eyes. Very antisocial, spends most of his time in his room narrating what's happening with The Family and The Hunters. Lies to Dark about how strong his powers are so the story can play out naturally with no-one at any extreme advantages.
Eric: Almost died in the bus crash that killed his brothers, but Dark was also on the bus with him and turned him to save him. Eric is forever grateful to Dark for taking him away from Derek and fully believes that Dark is a good person and keeps them all safe. Spends most of his time in The Manor because Dark takes advantage of his anxiety disorder to keep him close. Drinks mainly from Blood Bags gathered by The Googles rather than going out and hunting.
The Googles: Androids that Dark found and brought home for Bing to repair. They were altered to have fangs and bags in their stomachs so they can gather extra blood so The Family always has an emergency store at home. Also Dark's personal weapons/bounty hunters. When Dark can't do something in-person he'll send a Google.
Wilford: Turned by Actor, not Dark, unlike the rest of The Family. Lost his mind because he couldn't handle being a monster and needing to kill to live, so his mind stopped processing that Death is permanent to alleviate the guilt. Mysterious powers that even he doesn't really understand, but as long as he doesn't cause too much trouble he's pretty much allowed to do whatever he wants.
Mark: A Vampire Hunter, in the world-wide Hunter organization. Also a vampire turned by Dark. Dark intended to bring him into The Family, but Mark woke up halfway through turning into a vampire and managed to escape. He was rescued by The DA and they're now best friends, and the best Hunters in the entire organization.
The DA: Was the first person Damien bit the morning he woke up a vampire, but was only half-turned. They live forever, but their strength and speed are capped (other vampires just get stronger and faster forever with no limits). Was a nomad for many years before The Hunters picked them up with the promise of Curing them someday. Had many trust issues before Mark came along and showed them how to have friends again. Likes knitting. Despises Dark because he's "a monster parading around in their dead best friend's body."
Celine: Fled The Manor after a close call where Actor almost bit her, and dedicated her life to finding a Cure for vampirism. Later she learned William had been turned as well, and even later that Damien had been. She put Damien and William up in the family cabin and brought them weekly blood bags while she and a team of gifted scientists/alchemists/magic users/scholars all searched for a cure. Sadly the stress and strain cut her life short, and she passed away in the cabin holding Damien's hand hopeful for her brother's future.
(Sadly, her group was taken over by someone greedy and horrible after he murdered Celine's chosen successor, and this group became The Hunters.)
Actor: Was turned by The Manor. The more souls The Manor controls, the more powerful it is and the more it can expand the borders of it's power. Actor was intended to be the tool to gather souls, starting with his family, but it all went wrong. Actor now refuses to ever leave The Manor, and spends all his time waiting by the door for his family to return. He's certain that they will, eventually, and refuses to turn anyone until they come back. The Manor has tried to force him to turn stray hikers who wander onto The Grounds, but with only Actor under it's control it's too weak to fully break his resolve.
And that's the basic summary! Though there's many iterations of this AU. Like the Sia RP. That's a whole other ballgame (that you can read on @a-vamp-and-a-half) or the many Anon Jim RP threads (also on @a-vamp-and-a-half but I'm bad at organizing so I'm sorry it's so scattered)
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