#edit: ALSO I KEEP FORGETTING TO MENTION THIS TOO But usually the hand altogether is the length of your face from the chin to the brow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

be-dazzled · 4 years

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How about some royalty au or some Jane Austen vibes, because I can totally see Gray as Mr Darcy character-wise 🙈 also I had this Juvia feels with the song Daughter of the sea from Warbringers: Jaina (World of Warcraft franchise) you should totally listen to this with Phantom Juviaesque backstory in mind 💙

Writer’s Corner: This took so loooong. I’m so sorry. I planned to watch Pride and Prejudice since 2005 but always kept forgetting it. But thanks to this request I was finally able to do so. Also, when I went to write this request, it kept getting longer. Hehehe. So this is going to be divided into parts, as usual.

GRUVIA OLD WORLD VIBES...

THE ART OF FALLING

All Chapters: Click here

Chapter I A CURIOUS BEGINNING

Gray let out a sigh. He left his apartment in a hurry this morning upon receiving his mother’s letter. Gray’s father, Lord Silver Fullbuster, has fallen ill and he, as the lone heir to the Fullbuster estate, was requested to return to Magnolia immediately. He knew this was the future that awaited him. He had no objections to it even if his heart wasn’t set on having to inherit and take full responsibility of his father’s entire estate. For Grayden Fullbuster was a man of intellect. His interest lied on acquiring knowledge. He read all sorts of non-fictional books ranging from Anatomy to Zymography. Since young, Gray, as his mother fondly called him, had always been a curious child. Leather-bounds, first editions and original works were part of his book collection. He continued adding rare and limited publications from the moment he set foot into University of the Kingdom of Fiore, the center of knowledge in all Fiore. He was quite proud to have in his possession these printed and bounded sources of knowledge – books. Now, however, upon the news of his father’s illness, Gray was expecting to come into some good fortune. It only meant one thing, that he was to be in need of a wife.

Little did he know, his mother has known his needs before he even thought of it. If there was one universal truth that survived over the years it was that mothers know best. Hence, a mother of three daughters rushed home to bring her daughters the good news – Lord Silver Fullbuster was looking for a wife for his only son.

She arrived at her family about to enjoy a table-full of breakfast.

“Darling, darling!” She evened her breath as soon as she arrived at the table. “Lady Mika has invited us for tonight’s gathering at the Manor!”

“Mother, can we not be so loud this early in the morning?” The second daughter just came down from the second floor of the house, hair sticking out all over the place, night dress still a mess from all her tossing and turning in bed. A far cry from her sisters who were up and ready right before the break of dawn.

“Juvia Lockser, a lady doesn’t–”

“–Yes, Mother.” She has heard this lecture for far too many times that Juvia committed them to memory, albeit non-intentionally. “A lady doesn’t dilly-dally in bed when there is housework awaiting her.” Juvia claimed her rightful seat at the round table, next to the youngest Lockser, Wendy.

“Might as well. As I was saying, darling…”

Juvia quickly drowned her mother’s news out. There was only one thing in that woman’s mind, to marry off her daughters to wealthy men. From a very young age, Juvia and her sisters were groomed to become women who gentlemen would seek to marry. As they were growing, however, Juvia stopped trying altogether. She found the notion ridiculous; that women were born and raised only to be wedded. With this thinking, Juvia has always been considered the black sheep of the family; who would rather go with her father hunting than learn about the best fabric and the shiniest jewelries. Those fitted her other sisters more – Eliana the eldest and Wendy the youngest, whom Juvia always considered more beautiful and so, befitting to marry the son of Lord Fullbuster.

Juvia caught tails of the news her mother shared. As she took bacon and eggs into her plate, the second daughter promised herself to be stern about her decision not to come to the gathering. She had better plans for tonight – better than parading herself to men who wouldn’t even cast a glance. Next to Eliana, all others paled in her sister’s beauty.

___

Juvia expelled an exasperated breath.

“Would you stop that?” Eliana scolded, straightening her back and fixing her posture on the seat.

“What? Breathing?”

The eldest Lockser daughter narrowed her lighter blue eyes at Juvia, much like the way her mother’s darker ones disapproved the second’s attitude. If she wasn’t as stuck-up as their mother, Juvia was sure her elder sister would have found humor in her response. Eliana, however, was a close second to Elmara Lockser, who was now busy rubbing elbows with a few of the wealthiest families in whole Magnolia. Juvia scoffed at her direction. Her mother might be acting all friendly on the outside but she loathed them on the inside. Those couples she was with in their gossip circle were all rivals because they too had daughters they wanted to marry off to the wealthy Fullbuster family.

“Juvia, sit up straight. That isn’t how a lady should carry herself.”

That pulled Juvia’s attention from her parents who pretentiously laughed their ways into their own conversation.

“Eli,” Juvia addressed her older sister by her nickname, “it wouldn’t make much difference. So, why bother?”

“Eli is right, Juvia.” The youngest Lockser chimed in, imitating the way the eldest Lockser poised herself as they waited for any gentleman to ask for a dance. “How will you demand these gentlemen’s attention when you act like that?”

“Easy for you to say.” Juvia huffed dejectedly. “You’re the charming one and Eli’s the pretty one.”

Both sisters were now staring at the middle Lockser who just propped her hand under her chin. “And I’m… well, I’m the Juvia.” Her statement need not be explained. Juvia, somehow, acquired a reputation of coming second best to either sibling. Eliana and Wendy shared a pitiful look, scrambling for words to correct Juvia’s assumption about herself. When the eldest was about to share some words of comfort, a gentleman has offered his hand towards Eliana. He was the son of an Undersecretary, one of the highest positions in the Magnolian government. Their mother made sure the girls were well aware of such vital information. The eldest out of the three sisters plastered a trained smile across her lips and placed her hand into his. Juvia was sure Wendy was next to being asked, just like always. She wasn’t wrong. Not a minute went by when another son of a prominent figure in Magnolia asked the youngest Lockser for a dance, leaving Juvia alone, just like always. But not because she was used to it, didn’t mean it stopped hurting. One by one, the beautiful girls were asked into the dance floor. Once again, Juvia was left behind in the array of vacant seats. As much as she wanted to deny it, not being picked or offered a hand was a blow to her self-confidence and only supported what she assumed about herself. But she was older and much wiser now. She wasn’t going to let that embarrassment get into her head.

“So, what? Like I’d even like to dance with those scrawny morons.” Juvia suddenly stood right up, ignoring the weird looks thrown at her. Juvia made her way out of the ballroom. Her steps were purposeful. Her strides were hurried. She couldn’t wait to get out of that suffocating obnoxious community. When Juvia was finally out of sight and outside those giant front doors, Juvia ran. She ran without looking back. There was a place where she mattered, where she wasn’t passed upon. The woods. Gajeel would be there hunting for his next meal. She’d rather join him than be surrounded by those rich snobs who valued people by fleeting standards.

Juvia stopped at the hallway and glanced to her left then her right where she placed four uniformed men on either side. When one of the guards walked pass her, Juvia straightened her back and pretended that the clay sculpture piqued her interest. As soon as the uniformed staff was out of earshot, the second Lockser daughter raced to the balcony to weigh her options: ran free or get stuck with the snobs in that hellhole. She chose the former; a far better choice.

Juvia looked down and calculated the height of the jump required. It was possible but might leave her crippled forever. She wasn’t planning on it. She moved to the left side of the balcony where she found a ledge which would allow her to land on two feet. However, it wasn’t going to be easy as Juvia’s greatest obstacle was her dress that reached her ankles. Not to mention her tall heels weren’t going to be much help either. Juvia removed the strap sandals her mother painstakingly chosen for tonight. Clutching on their straps and keeping them in one hand as cautiously she leaped over the other side of the railing and landed on the thin ledge. Her heart jumped to her throat as she looked down at the ground, which might be her cause of death if ever she missed a step. So, she heaved out a deep breath, creating a visible cloud of air, and glued herself against the wall. Step by step, ever so slowly, ever so cautiously, Juvia moved to her left, to a spot closest towards a branch of tree. All the while, her feet moved within the bounds of safety. Juvia figured the branch was sturdy enough to hold her weight and that she could use the same as some lever to lower herself down on the ground. She’d done it a couple of times but the she still felt nervous about what she was to do. Juvia extended her arm and swung them to catch the branch, only to gather leaves in her fist. As Juvia ordered herself not to look down, quite conscious of the ledge’s edge, she peeled her back off the exterior wall and reached out for the branch one more time. She tiptoed thinking it would give her an extra length to capture the branch, which seemed to have a business of evading Juvia’s grasp.

The young woman was resolute; evident with the way her brows furrowed and her lips folded, Juvia Lockser was determined to escape that hell. Her third attempt was more successful than the previous ones; albeit by a slim chance, as the branch jerked back into its original position, having one stunned bluenette hanging by it. Her weight dragged the branch down but not enough to cause it to snap. Juvia released her grasp from the end of the branch, jumped off on the ground and landed on both feet in one piece. Gajeel had taught her well. She rose from her crouch and quickly took shade under the giant tree. It served another purpose for the young lady as she hid behind its large trunk to avoid the roving guards. The Fullbuster Family took security quite seriously and they had every reason to as their fortune was ten fold more than any family in town or even all of them combined. When the coast was clear, Juvia made her way towards the iron fence for her final escape whilst avoiding any watchful eyes. Just as quickly as she calculated the jump from the balcony, Juvia prepared herself to climb over the fence. She wrapped the ends of her long skirt into a ball, pulling the length just an inch above her knees and exposing fair skin of legs. Neither the height of the fence nor the sharpness of its point fazed the second daughter. The only thing it did was fuel the fire she had in her heart.

Juvia loved adventure and climbing over the manor fence presented itself as one. She was sure no other lady in that dreadful town of Magnolia had even thought of it. She tied the straps of her sandals together and placed them around her neck to free both her hands, Juvia wrapped her fingers around the iron pickets to gain momentum, using both feet to propel herself to another height until she gripped at the link that connected all the iron pickets. Careful not to get plunged into the sharp end of the spikes, Juvia brought her leg over the fence and then the other. Just one jump and she’d find herself over at the other side of that iron fence. Hungry for her freedom, Juvia jumped. But as she was about to land both feet on the ground, Juvia heard a sound of garment ripping and found her skirt caught at the spikes, pulling the rest of her skirt up to her waist.

If there was one universal truth that all had agreed upon it’s that not everything went according to plan.

___

When Gray decided that night to take a walk and catch some very much needed break from the crowd of his parents, he wasn’t planning on finding a lady stuck at their security fence with her skirt up her waist, practically half-naked. He was rooted to his spot as he watched the strange woman struggle to free herself from such compromising position. But as she tried to wriggle out of it, her dress kept pulling up. Gray ordered himself to look away; it was unbecoming of a gentleman to look at a woman’s body with nothing but her undergarment. Strangely, his body refused to listen. When their eyes met, hers panicking and his stunned, Gray visibly gulped.

“Good sir, will you please lend me some help?”

Her words knocked some senses into him as it was only then that Gray was able to avert his sinful eyes. Still then, he had not any idea how to be of help. Blindly, he walked towards her, stealing glances at the woman’s direction.

“Have you any idea how to be of aid if you refuse to look at me?” Her voice was already missing patience.

The strange lady was right. However, how could Gray bring himself to boldly meet her eyes in her condition? For such a shameless display was allowed only between married men and women.

“Y-your…” Gray cleared his throat. He could feel the heat on his ears and cheeks despite the cold weather and the thick coat he wore. “My lady, your… underpants… they are showing.” He now stood in a safe distance beside her dangling legs.

“I am aware, sir. However, as you can see, I am clearly not in a position to turn away any help despite such circumstance.”

She spoke well, he noted, and she didn’t seem too bothered about a man’s presence around her current state of affair.

“Then, how do you propose I offer my aid?” He tried his earnest to keep his composure as he fought the wave of embarrassment about to swallow him whole.

“If you’ll be so kind as to lend me your shoulders, Sir.”

“M-my shoulders?”

For Grayden Fullbuster, a nobleman, it certainly was an odd request. Being approximately near a half-naked woman was already a struggle to bear, making it quite difficult to process what this woman was asking of him.

“Yes, Sir.”

Her voice was tamed but Gray could hear a hint of restraint and displeasure in it.

“Now, if you may please move closer so I could,” He heard a rustle in her direction. As his attention was courteously averted away from the half-naked woman hanging by the iron fence, Gray has not noticed her attempts to swing closer to him, “use your shoulders to step down from my unfortunate position.”

Really unfortunate but also not quite, thought Gray. He started to move, inching towards her and placec himself under her legs so that he may be of assistance. The garment skewed through the spikes, however, could not hold her weight and the little movements she made, causing it to rip further and further until her full weight gradually succumbed to gravity.

Until all Gray could remember was the loud sound of the garment holding her against the iron picket giving in. By instinct, Gray turned around, readying himself for any other assistance she would be requiring only to find himself breaking her fall and serving as human cushion between the strange lady and the rather cold pavement.

Yet, his body has maintained some heat as Gray finally realized that the strange lady had landed on his lap quite literally. But she wasn’t like any woman Gray has grown accustomed to. Her blue waves were pulled in a poorly made bun with every bit of short hair sticking out to all sides. Her beauty wasn’t extraordinary – pale lips and paler skin – that if she’d been in a pool of people, Gray would have never spared her a glance. But what piqued his interest towards her were her round blue orbs that looked straight into his. No woman had ever stared him straight in the eyes as tradition taught them at an early age of the opposite – that eye contact between a man and a woman who was not married must be avoided. This lady’s deep blue eyes, however, defiantly stared into his, sucking him in with the depth of her round orbs. But her stern look alone screamed trouble – something Gray was never fond of. He watched her blue eyes widen in surprise as the scandal of their current position finally dawned upon the strange lady – with her straddling the poor gentleman between her thighs. He observed as embarrassment colored her pale skin rose and watched her expression graduate from surprise, fluster and now anger.

“Where do you think your hands are touching?” was her accusation.

It was only then that Gray realized where his hands were – boldly resting on the soft skin of her upper thighs. He withdrew them immediately, sharing the embarrassment the strange woman had earlier; his was more of disdain for himself. For a man who freely touched a woman not his wife was frowned upon in their community. He wanted to apologize, to clarify that however it appeared wasn’t his intention. As soon as he opened his mouth, the strange woman planted both palms on his chest, pushing herself up whilst shoving the man against the cold, hard pavement. He did not take offense from the woman’s harsh actions against him. His indecent action was the greater of the two evils tonight. As soon as he heard her footsteps dulling into the distance, Gray stood from his position and quickly followed after her. He could not stomach letting the woman disappear without properly apologizing for his action, notwithstanding it being unintentional. He was raised better than that – a true gentleman.

“Hey, lady!” He called after her but the woman seemed to have made it her business to ignore him. As she had her back on him, Gray quickly noticed, although it wasn’t that hard to miss, the extent of the rip on her skirt – exposing her backside a plenty. Gray momentarily stopped, coughing into his fist as he tried to regain composure. The reason for his desperate act of going after her was quickly replaced. The strange woman, who he had now adjudged as a foreigner for her unconventional behavior, picked up her steps, glancing back at him with a wary expression. Gray removed his coat as he tried to catch up to her, but she ran faster than the gentleman.

“I have no ill intentions toward you!” He shouted after, his strides now more determined. Gray had his coat openly hanging before him, ready to drape the thick material over the woman’s shoulders. He gained on her and his mission was accomplished, wrapping his frock coat around the lady. She stilled, giving Gray a moment to even his breathing. However, she quickly turned around him, dagger eyes burning in rage because Gray had blatantly fastened his arms around her figure too. How bold and shameless of him! He was no different from a man who forces himself upon a woman, regardless of his true intention.

The gentleman found himself in a worse predicament. Quickly, he pulled his hands back, raising them in a universal act of surrender, taking a step back and away from the enraged and offended lady.

“This isn’t what you perceive it to be.” He started. “If you would let me–”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as Gray saw her fist flying towards him. Then, all he saw was endless darkness.

#gray x juvia #gruvia #be-dazzled #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #request granted #fairy tail #jane austen vibes #gruvia fanfic #gruvia request

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auroraphilealis · 6 years

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Too Tense to Be Undone (1/5)

Too Tense to Be Undone (1/4) | Dan’s never had an orgasm before. Despite being in a relationship with his ex-girlfriend for three years, he’s just never been able to finish. The doctor’s don’t know what’s wrong with him, so Dan’s mostly put it out of his mind. Until his gap year, when he starts talking with AmazingPhil, and accidentally admits that he’s never come before. Phil’s happy to help with more than just convincing Dan to post YouTube videos, if Dan will just give him the chance. | Phan | Explicit | Slight Friends with Benefits, Pining, Eventual Smut, Very Explicit Smut, Dirty Talk, Flirting, Getting Together, 2009, Skype | 4,569 Words This Chapter

Intense thank you to @imnotinclinedtomaturity who has spent the last week editing fics for me because apparently I’m on a roll. Also for spurring me on when I got this idea out of nowhere (I’ll be honest, I saw this really cute porn video on my dash and I couldn’t help myself. It was supposed to be PWP I don’t know what happened). Also thank you to my followers on tumblr who kept encouraging me to go on while I screamed at them that the word length just kept growing.

I’ll be posting every other day, so expect to hear back from me with chapter 2 on Monday :) I’m still writing chapter 4 so uh, extra encouragement would be… appreciated.

Title from David Bowie’s song “Get Real”.

(ao3 link)

Dan wasn’t easy to please.

In fact, he was pretty sure that there was something wrong with him, because despite his young age when he and his girlfriend had first started hooking up, he’d never been able to come. Orgasms just didn’t happen for him. And soon after he’d get his girlfriend off, she’d moan about how it hurt for him to still be inside of her, and stare at his wet dick and frown at the very idea of sucking him off after he’d been inside of her.

It had sucked, to put it lightly.

Getting off seemed so distant, so unattainable, that Dan never managed. Everything, everything, fell short. His hand, his girlfriend’s mouth, the wet heat of her body… it all felt wonderful. But it was never enough. He was always left high and dry, unable to come, and with a sick feeling in his stomach that just ended up making him give up.

Sex was nice, sure, what with the way it made his body feel, but there was never that big ending that Dan had heard so much about. He could work himself up into a frenzy, and even recognized the way his body would start to tense, as if it wanted to finish. But nothing ever happened.

Instead, Dan was always left teetering on a precipice, balls drawn up to his body, tense and waiting, but nothing would happen. There was always a sensation of molten heat in his abdomen that drove him fucking crazy, but no matter how hard he chased his own high, or how fast he fucked his girlfriend, he never came.

So he gave it up for a lost cause, and mostly turned to sex for that flicker of pleasure, or the chance to be intimate with his girlfriend.

But then they broke up and Dan was left with… well, his hand. For a while, he tried. He tried it fast, he tried it slow, he tried fondling his balls while he stroked his cock, but it never finished

And there really was no starting point if it wouldn’t end.

So he stopped altogether. Sometimes, he’d wake up with a hard-on, and he’d rub it into the soft cotton of his duvet, but he never went further than the hazy sensation of drugged pleasure that came with it. Then, he usually took a shower and waited for his throbbing dick to calm down enough that it stopped pumping all of Dan’s blood supply down. It was never worth trying anything else.

So Dan was hard to please.

He was eighteen years old and had never experienced an orgasm, and he was fairly convinced he never would. He didn’t have erectile dysfunction; the doctors couldn’t figure out what was blocking his… release, and he was perfectly comfortable in the understanding that he was very much, bisexual thank you very much. So it wasn’t the fault of his ex-girlfriend that Dan hadn’t been able to come with her.

It was just. Well. Dan.

Unfortunately for him.

“It could just be a disorder,” the doctors had suggested after he turned 18 and they determined he’d matured enough that he, well, should have been able to finish. They’d thrown around a few names that Dan couldn’t remember if he tried, referring to situations where people couldn’t stop having orgasms, or were triggered by the simplest of things, in order to make Dan feel better about his problem, but. Well. At least those people could. He would take those problems over his any day. Dan was angry at first, but then he.

Sort of accepted it.

There was nothing else to do for it except keep trying, but Dan wasn’t willing to put himself through the agony of getting so, so close but not quite reaching that high, so he hoped maybe a partner in the future could help. Assuming he could find someone willing to put up with it, at least. He was certain he wouldn’t mind continuing to just get his partner off, but he’d kind of like some kind of reciprocation. An attempt, at least. Maybe.

If he was lucky enough.

Dan was on his gap year, though, and he wasn’t particularly eager to date any of the guys or girls from his hometown. Dating apps were gross and mostly searched for singles nearby anyway, not to mention the creepy married people looking for a discreet partner, so those were out too.

Dan tried not to think too much about his failed sex life, these days. Sometimes it just felt like a waste of time, when for all Dan knew, he was never reaching orgasm anyway. So he did his best to distract himself with other things, like watching youtube videos and working at the law firm his dad had gotten him a paid internship at.

It kind of sucked.

And was yet another reason Dan sometimes just didn’t bother thinking about sex. He had far more to worry about in his life than whether or not he was going to fucking orgasm ever. He had a future to think about - regardless of whether he wanted to or not.

The main thing was, Dan really, really, really didn’t want to be a lawyer, but he didn’t see any way out of it with his dad looming over him the way he did. One throwaway comment about going to school to be a lawyer, and now Dan seemed stuck in the decision.

God, sometimes he hated his dad.

There was one good thing in his life, though. .

AmazingPhil, Phil Lester of the youtube kingdom, was kind of sort of Dan’s friend.

Well, more than kind of sort of.

They had each other’s phone numbers and their personal skype usernames, and Phil treated Dan like a he was actually his friend, and not just another fan. They spent hours talking to each other, joking and teasing over twitter and dailybooth, and dropping hints to the rest of the world that they maybe, sort of were into each other.

Which was, unfortunately, not true.

On Dan’s end at least.

He didn’t know about Phil’s end. They didn’t talk about it. They just flirted, and joked, and messed around. But mostly, they were just friends. Good friends. Best friends, even, if Dan had a say. Phil was the kind of person Dan could see himself knowing for the rest of his life, and the four year age gap didn’t even phase him.

In fact, it kind of excited him. Not that that was a particularly useful emotion in Dan’s life. It wasn’t as if he could actually do anything with the erections that he could get from just looking at Phil’s face sometimes, let alone the dreams he had. And yet they happened anyway. It was sort of embarrassing, but he supposed it would have been even more so if Dan had actually wanked off to the guy.

No. Instead, he didn’t wank off at all. He wasn’t really sure what was more embarrassing in the end.

Anyway, Dan more than kind of wanted to get into Phil’s pants, but they’d never even met in real life, so he didn’t think that was exactly the most plausible possibility in the world. Besides, like he’d said, he really didn’t have any idea of Phil’s true feelings. The guy was a fucking enigma, insanely good at hiding his feelings, and yet managed to be true to himself all at the same time.

In fact, when Dan spoke with Phil, he often found himself forgetting that he was talking to AmazingPhil, because despite being a similar guy, the Phil Lester that Dan spoke to was far more toned down and amazing than the persona he put on the for the camera (not that camera Phil wasn’t amazing too, just, in a different way. An impossible way).

Phil Lester was just kind of… Quirky. Crazy. Funny. Smart. And sexy. Sexy as all fucking hell.

Basically, he was the perfect package, and if Dan lived any closer, he probably would have jumped him the first time he’d seen him (okay, maybe like, the second, but the point remained). Being his friend was good too. Dan enjoyed that. He enjoyed having someone listen to him wallow while being happy to talk to him about his passions, including youtube and Dan’s very persistent desire to become a youtuber himself.

It was just nice. It was nice to have a friend like this. It was nice to know someone who was happy to help him, and didn’t make Dan feel like he was being a burden. And it was nice to have someone to combat the negative voice of Dan’s dad in his head.

It would be even nicer to put Phil’s focus to another task, but…

Dan shook his head. He couldn’t keep thinking about things like that. It got him… physically interested, and then it usually took like a good fifteen minutes (or longer, depending just how interested he got) to make his boner calm down. Besides, he was on a skype call with Phil, and he’d much rather focus on the sound of his best friend’s voice than on the pressing feeling between his legs.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Phil said, “You know, about you posting youtube videos?”

Dan mumbled something that sounded vaguely like an affirmative, because for all of his bravado, he really wasn’t all that confident. In fact, Dan could be pretty insecure at times, and when it came to youtube, he was… well, at his lowest point.

Or, he had been.

Phil had definitely helped him work out of that hole, at least a little bit. Dan had filmed a couple videos already, and he had footage that Phil thought was hilarious, but, well, he hadn’t exactly edited it together or bothered making an introduction video.

“Don’t get too excited, Dan, we’re only talking about you becoming internet famous over here,” Phil teased.

“Shut up!” Dan snorted. He gave Phil his best unamused look, but he couldn’t help bursting into a fond smile at the way Phil looked back at him. It wasn’t all about Phil’s sex appeal, okay, Dan had a massive crush on the guy too. He was sweet, and he had this way of looking at Dan that made Dan feel like he was on top of the fucking world. “What have you been thinking, then?” Dan asked, because it didn’t seem like Phil was going to continue unless Dan actively chose to take part in this conversation.

“Oh, you know,” Phil hummed, “I was thinking maybe you could film an intro this weekend? Maybe that’ll encourage you to actually start editing your other videos, so you can get them up.”

The words made Dan shrink back a little. Youtube was like, a thing he really wanted and he talked about it with Phil because he knew that Phil would take him more seriously than his parents or his other friends, but, well. Actually posting a video and just talking about it were two very different things.

Filming an introduction to his channel meant this whole thing was real, and once Dan had put his face out there, he was terrified to give it up as a failure. He didn’t need everyone he knew telling him they were right.

“Yeah,” Dan said, noncommittedly.

Phil instantly frowned.

“I really don’t understand what you’re so afraid of. You’re really attractive and funny. That’s like, the perfect package for youtube,” Phil explained. “Besides, you’ve shown me your skits! They’re really good, and you look fucking edible in them, if you know what I mean,” Phil added with a wink.

The expression was a little awkward. Phil had trouble blinking one eye and not two, but it still sent a chill up Dan’s spine - and a surge of blood down to his groin. Never let it be said that he did not have the body of an 18 year old, because he sure as hell did. He got hard just as easy and just as often as anyone else he knew, he just… couldn’t do anything about it, that’s all.

The idea of Phil finding him edible was mouth watering, though.

Dan’s cheeks coloured red.

“Stop,” he moaned, “you’re flattering me!” With a dramatic hand to his head, Dan pretended to fall backwards in a swoon, which successfully broke the tension between him and Phil. They laughed and the world felt normal again - except for Dan’s dick, because that sure as hell hadn’t gotten the memo to calm the fuck down.

“No, but seriously, Dan,” Phil said again, “What’s up with you? I really think you should do it. If I was able to get popular on this platform, I don’t see why you can’t.”

“Yeah, but you’re like. Phil. You’re this super tall, sexy guy with dreamy blue eyes and a good sense of humor. Have you seen yourself in the toxic video? You can’t tell me you weren’t trying to be provocative. How many girls wanted to fuck you after that, hmm? I could never be as good as you.”

Dan didn’t intend to go down the self-deprecating route, but it was kind of his signature thing to do.

Thankfully, Phil wasn’t one to put up with it.

“I might have gotten a few offers. The only ones I took even half seriously were the guys, though,” Phil said, offering Dan another awkward double wink. “But no, really, Dan. Have you looked in a mirror? If you think I’m sexy, I don’t know what to say to you. The amount of followers you have on dailybooth from your nakedbooths alone could far outshine mine if you let it build up long enough.”

The words sent another little zing through Dan. If he was being honest, he knew he was attractive. He’d been a ladies man in secondary school, and even though his last relationship had survived the last three years of school, he’d still known he was well attractive. It was just… Phil was so many leagues ahead of Dan already that it didn’t feel comparable.

Rather than letting Phil dominate the conversation any longer, Dan smirked at his friend.

“Been having a look at my nakedbooths, hmm?”

“You know I have been. How I am I supposed to resist?”

And here came the part of the night that Dan always particularly enjoyed: the cocky flirting. The cocky flirting that Dan was never sure whether it was real or not. Phil always got this intense expression on his face, like he knew he could get anyone that he wanted. He was so confident that it put Dan to shame, and Dan had always thought he was a pretty confident guy. Phil, though - Phil was not afraid to show himself off, and to make it very clear what he wanted.

Phil was no virgin, that much Dan knew. In fact, Phil had admitted that at one point in his life, he’d been a little bit of a slut. He’d learned a lot during his masters program. And it wasn’t all academic.

“How many times have you jacked off to my pictures?” Dan teased.

Phil didn’t back down, not even for a second.

“Too many times to count. My favorite is how innocent you look with all those stuffed animals posed around your body. Don’t leave much to the imagination, do you?”

Dan laughed, his voice husky, and his cock suddenly very interested in the topic of their conversation.

Dan was mostly just glad he’d managed to divert Phil’s attention away from Dan posting his first video.

“I like to let people know what they’d be waking up next too.”

Phil’s eyes, impossibly, grew darker.

“Oh yeah? Is that why you hide the part we all want to see the most? To make sure we take you to bed?”

“Maybe,” Dan teased.

“God, I bet you look beautiful when you’re worked up,” Phil whispered. His voice had gone all deep, and it made Dan’s mouth feel insanely dry.

Was it getting hot in here? Maybe. Dan should open a window. He didn’t want to move from his bed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would,” Phil returned, eyes glittering. His mouth tilted up into his trademark smirk that always made Dan wonder if he was just another game to Phil. “I’d love to get you under me, see how you fall apart. I bet you look amazing when you come.”

The words made Dan’s eyes close, made him feel wistful, lusting for something he knew he couldn’t achieve. It caused his hands to twitch at his sides, itching to relieve some of the tension of his cock. His laptop was thankfully perched on top of his crotch, so Phil could have no idea what kind of effect he was having on Dan, but Dan wanted nothing more than to move it so he could get a hand on his dick.

Not that it would do anything. But still. Phil’s words made him feel so fucking good…

To be taken care of, by anyone, for however long they were willing. God, that was the dream.

“Do you, Dan?” Phil asked, pulling Dan from his thoughts.

His eyes popped open, and he stared quizzically at Phil.

“Do I what?”

“Look hot as fuck when you come.”

The question knocked the breath out of Dan, because he didn’t know. But the way the words curled off of Phil’s tongue made him desperate for the answer. He wanted to fall apart under Phil’s talented hands, and finally know what he was like when he finished. He’d never fucked another man, but he’d love to, he’d love to find out how different it was than being with a girl, and to see if he liked having a cock in his ass. He had a feeling he would.

What would it be like to get fucked? Dan was just horny enough to want to know.

His cheeks went dark red as he contemplated how to answer the question.

Finally, he went with the truth.

“I don’t know.”

Phil seemed to misunderstand what Dan meant, though. His smirk only seemed to grow, and he looked at Dan like he wanted to eat him.

“How would you like to find out?”

Dan had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from making a noise, but he let his hips roll a little, adjusting to the new pressure in his pajama pants. This wasn’t territory Dan was exactly… comfortable with.

It felt like lying, to go along with this, and pretend his issue with never finishing didn’t exist. But he wanted to. God, did he want to.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” Dan whispered.

“I could show you, if you wanted. Get you off over skype, talk you off the edge, and record it all for you,” Phil continued, voice low and rough. The words washed over Dan, and it all sounded so good, except -

Except -

“I’ve never had an orgasm,” Dan blurted out. His face, already impossibly red, seemed to grow redder.

On the other side of Dan’s screen, Phil’s eyes had gone wide. In fact, Phil’s entire posture had changed. He’d gone from complete and utter confidence to outright confusion, shifting backwards so he wasn’t quite so close to his own camera, and staring at Dan as if he’d grown two heads.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?”

Dan laughed nervously. “No, I haven’t.”

Phil didn’t seem to know what else to say. He was so taken aback that Dan thought he might actually be uncomfortable with the whole situation. Dan’s own mind was whirling. He couldn’t believe that he’d even said that to Phil, let alone that Phil had offered to get him off over skype before he’d said it. They’d flirted hardcore before, and Dan had joked about his nakedbooths plenty of times, but they’d never stepped into this realm before.

Phil asked Dan provocative questions, but Dan always brushed them off.

Until today.

Eventually, Phil managed to pull himself back together. His eyes softened, and his shoulders relaxed as he offered Dan a sympathetic look.

Dan didn’t want pity. He found himself shrinking back.

“I thought you had a girlfriend for three years? Are you not… I mean. Are you still a virgin?” Phil asked, words completely matter of fact. “I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable Dan. I didn’t even think, I just assumed that -”

“I’m not a virgin,” Dan muttered, cutting Phil off before he could bury them both into an even deeper hole. “I’ve had sex before. Plenty. With my ex-girlfriend. I’ve just... never had an orgasm,” he admitted.

Phil didn’t seem to know what to say to that, either. Dan was starting to get used to that. He hadn’t told very many people that he couldn’t orgasm, but they all seemed to react in the exact same way.

Speechlessness.

Dan sighed, and reached up to card a hand through his hair. He pushed his fringe back, and then immediately fumbled to brush it back into place, already self-conscious enough without his hair being a mess.

Finally, Phil spoke again.

“Are you… do you just not… do you have erectile dysfunction or something?”

“Phil!” Dan reprimanded. “I don’t have erectile dysfunction. I’m not 80! What the fuck!?”

“I’m sorry! I just don’t understand! How have you had sex before and not…”

“I don’t know,” Dan finally admitted, defeated. “The doctor’s don’t either. I’m perfectly healthy, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with me, and I can get hard as easily as anyone else. I just. Can’t finish,” Dan finished lamely.

It was an embarrassing thing to talk about, especially to someone Dan was kind of, sort of, incredibly interested in. Besides, Dan still didn’t know if Phil was into him or not. They’d gone way past the normal boundaries tonight, but for all Dan knew, Phil just wanted to fuck him. Not be in a relationship with him.

Dan desperately wanted more. He’d never been a one night stand kind of guy. He might be a flirt, sure. But he was possessive as all hell and got jealous easily. Dan didn’t share well. At the end of the day, he was committed, and he always expected his partner to be committed as well.

That was part of why Dan and his ex-girlfriend had broken it off. She’d found someone else, and, well. Dan couldn’t really blame her.

She’d found it upsetting that Dan couldn’t finish with her, despite the fact that she so rarely tried to help him actually do so.

So Dan was a little bitter towards his ex. So what. He was allowed to be. She’d technically cheated on him, after all.

Phil, for his part, seemed a little lost for words. Dan stared at him, terrified of how he was going to react. “Oh,” Phil finally replied. “I mean. Have you tried?”

“What the fuck, Phil?” Dan snapped. “What kind of a question is that!? Of course I’ve tried!” he complained. “I know how to jack off, asshat. I just can’t get anywhere with it.”

Dan was borderline fuming now. Phil was looking at Dan like he was a science experiment, and it was pissing him off. First, his girlfriend had left him because he couldn’t orgasm, and now his best friend was acting like Dan simply hadn’t put in enough effort or something.

“Well,” Phil said, after another moment of peering at Dan. He leaned in slowly to his webcam, and suddenly that same dark, sexy look was back on his face. “Maybe you just haven’t tried hard enough.”

“Fuck you!” Dan snarled, “Who are you to say I haven’t -”

“Dan,” Phil said, effectively cutting him off. Dan’s chest was too tight for this. He could feel himself heaving, and it wasn’t from arousal anymore. It was anger.

Phil didn’t seem to understand just how livid he’d made Dan. He just continued to smirk at Dan with that same look on his face that he’d had when he’d suggested filming Dan pleasuring himself.

“Maybe I phrased that wrong. I think, maybe, you just haven’t had the right attention paid to you. I’m sure you could orgasm, given the right partner,” he purred.

Dan was speechless. He could still feel his body thrumming with furious energy, and he still kind of wanted to tell Phil off for presuming to know Dan’s body better than he knew his own, but. Well. He hadn’t quite been expecting Phil to say that.

Dan licked his lips. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Phil said, that same intense look on his face. “That I think I might be able to help you with your little problem.”

Dan’s cheeks were flushed red again. Despite the outrage he could still feel simmering under the surface, his dick was perking back up. That should have annoyed Dan, but Phil looked so sexy that he was used to it by now. He’d just have to will it away later…

“Look, Dan. You’re hot, and I am very much so attracted to you,” Phil explained, “And if you seem to have a bit of trouble finishing, I can promise you that I wouldn’t give up after just one try. In fact, I don’t think I could ever stop pleasuring you, given the chance,” he added, practically purring once again.

His eyes were so dark that Dan was dizzy with it, and his voice a perfect balance between gravelly and in control, so that Phil sounded like the goddamn sex god that he undoubtedly was. Dan couldn’t deny that he was curious

“Phil…” he whispered.

“Dan. I want you. And if you’ll give me the chance, I think I can guarantee you an orgasm. You were talking about coming to meet me, so how about in two weeks. My parents will be away, and you and I… we can work on your little problem together.”

Dan’s mouth was like a fucking desert. Everything Phil was offering sounded so fucking good, but -

But Dan wanted more than just a one night stand.

He was paralyzed with indecision as Phil drew back from his webcam. The smirk didn’t leave Phil’s face, but he did look a little flushed, and possibly a little turned on.

Dan didn’t know how to answer.

“Think about it. And Dan,” Phil added, “I hope you’ll post that intro video soon. I’d hate to have you star in a collab with me only to have no channel to direct your new followers to.”

And with that, Phil winked, waved goodbye to Dan, and hung up their skype call.

That little shit.

Dan was left staring at a white screen with a few links and hasty conversations in his and Phil’s chat, and nothing else.

His heart was racing with a combination of anger and arousal. Dan didn’t know which to focus on. He was too busy fumbling with the offer Phil had just given him.

Phil’s parents were going out of town, and he was inviting Dan to come over. There was no way he could have been joking about fucking Dan if he’d planned it so they’d be home all alone. And on top of that, Phil had mentioned a collab. Fuck. Dan’s head was spinning.

Had all of this really happened?

He didn’t know, but he wanted to find out.

Besides, with a promise like that, how could Dan refuse?

#phanfic #phanfiction #phanfictioncatalogue #phandom #phan #phan smut

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thestraggletag · 6 years

Text

The Safest Place, a RSS Fic

Prompt: Time Traveller and an Immortal AU

Summary: There’s no safest place for a child as loved as Gideon than with his parents. Even if it’s decades before he’s born and they were still master and maid.

Recipient: Surprise, @sharinamay, I’m your Secret Santa! I hope you like your gift, I had quite a hard time making it happen! I was worried that the idea I had come up with might not entirely be what you wanted but it stuck to my head so I was inspired to write it.

I’ll post this later to AO3 and FF.Net and will edit this post to include the links, just in case that’s more convenient for you.

Happy Holidays!

It wasn't altogether a surprising sight. She'd stumbled across the odd baby in her time at the Dark Castle, always nestled in a particular wicker basket her master seemed fond of. Though at first the babes appeared rather unannounced- and Belle was sure Rumplestiltskin had done it to keep her in her toes, to try and rattle her- over time her master had started telling her when to expect them. She'd prepare for it, airing out the room next to hers, putting fresh sheets on the cot there, getting fresh milk and making sure to have cloth diapers and pins at hand, as well as an assortment of clothes, just in case. The mountain air was cold and unforgiving, and babies needed a lot of bundling up.

Belle liked children very much, for the same reason she loved animals: unlike adult people they didn't judge or question. She didn't need to put on a facade with them, didn't have to pretend to be somebody she was not. Someone proper and dutiful and pure. It was the same with her master. Rumple seemed to encourage behaviour in her others had sought to curtail or limit: he let her read as much as she desired, indulged her strange sense of humour, even her thirst for adventure on occasion. He pretended to be annoyed at her every time she tried to learn something new but would encourage her in small ways he likely thought she didn't notice. With him she could be herself, sarcastic and irreverent and able to speak her mind always.

So, having children in the castle every once in a while wasn't exactly a chore for Belle, specially once she realised her master did not mean them harm. He seemed equally fond of children, likely for the same reason she was. But Rumplestiltskin had said nothing of a baby for months, so the appearance of the child was very surprising. He was wrapped in a lovely homemade wool blanket so yellow it almost seemed gold, and looked young, perhaps a few weeks old. The tiniest baby she'd seen by far, but also the one dressed the best, his garments finely-made and foreign-looking. He looked fragile and vulnerable and it stirred something so powerful inside her she immediately grew angry at Rumplestiltskin for dumping the child in the middle of the foyer without even letting her know it was there.

Though the baby was fussy he calmed down immediately when she picked him up and held him close to her breast for warmth. He nuzzled close, prompting her to take him to the kitchen, where she made him a bottle of milk, which the little piglet drank down greedily, making the most adorable little noises. She kept reminding herself not to grow attached even as she cuddled the babe close to her. Whenever she'd try to lower the little tyke down he protested, letting out tiny mewls that broke her heart, so she found herself coming up with all manner of pretences and excuses to pick the baby up.

It was when she changed his diapers for the third time in an hour that she saw the letters stitched into the lining of his clothes. Gideon, a name she was familiar with. A favourite of hers, from her favourite story. And something else about it sparked recognition in her, though it was fleeting.

"Gideon. Little Gid. Your mamma has good taste in names."

She usually tried to avoid thinking about where the babies Rumple took came from. She'd learned early on none were stolen, all freely given in deals. She tried to remind herself that she had been born surrounded by privilege, that most other people struggled for survival and that sometimes that led to desperate decisions. But she had seen enough babies come from comfortable families, from economically stable households, and had found out the terms of some of the deals. People asking for youth, talent, fame, beauty. Those people were better off not being parents, so she had learned to be glad in those instances and try not to think about deals made for survival.

Gideon's clothes, however, indicated a wealthy household. Perhaps, then, something traumatic had happened. For some reason, she refused to think that Gid could be one of those unwanted, bartered babies Rumple brought some time. The idea of him coming from parents who didn't love him was too difficult to bear. Who wouldn't love him, with his little pixie ears and the utter serenity that stole over him when he was held? Such a good baby had to have come from good, loving parents. It was silly, of course, and more than a bit unfair. All babies deserved to be born into a family that cherished them, yet she'd never wished more fervently for a child to be wanted than she did with little Gideon.

She began to worry about what sort of family would be chosen for him, what sort of desperate soul would be selected to receive him. Belle didn't usually fret about the children when they left the castle. She'd learned they all were bound to homes where they'd be cherished, doted upon. To parents who'd desired them above all else, and who'd paid a dire price to have them in their arms and in their lives. But Gideon deserved more than just parents who would appreciate him, he deserved to be loved unconditionally and fiercely, deserved devotion. She got used to carrying the baby around in his basket as she did her chores. Sometimes in the afternoons she read to him and though he was a new-born she swore he listened avidly at her, as if he recognised her voice, found it soothing.

By the time Rumplestiltskin returned from his latest trip she was afraid to bring up the child at first. Perhaps if she didn't mention him her master would forget and she'd get to keep him a bit longer. But Gideon seemed to have a different opinion, as he started wailing the moment he woke up in the nursery while she served dinner. Though the castle was vast the nursery was enchanted to amplify infant cries- a way to "keep an eye on the merchandise", as Rumplestiltskin had taunted her back when she didn't know better- so Gideon's unhappy screeching reached them loud and clear. Rumplestiltskin startled and looked at her, eyes narrowing.

"Whatever have you been up to, little maid?"

Before she could answer with something flippant he disappeared in a haze of smoke, leaving Belle to make her way to the nursery on foot. By the time she arrived Gideon was eyeing Rumplestiltskin as the imp held the baby as one would a piglet being inspected.

"Who the devil is this?"

"Have you forgotten the baby you dumped into my care weeks ago while on a trip? How careless."

She plucked the baby out of his hands and nestled him close to her chest. Little Gideon turned his head to nuzzle her skin and quieted down immediately, turning into the adorable little seraph he'd been since he'd gotten to the Dark Castle. She waited for a quip that didn't come, and began to worry when Rumplestiltskin looked more confused than outraged. Usually by then he'd said something about her cheek, or threatened to turn her into something nasty and slimy. All bark, no bite, which made the silence strangely disturbing.

"I have no idea who that baby is, dearie. I certainly didn't acquire it."

For a moment, she thought he might be joking, but he looked unsettled enough to rule that out. He sat her down and instructed her to tell him how she'd come across the baby over and over, much to her annoyance. And after he told her to bring everything that she'd found with the child. It was then that things got truly strange, for when she produced the wicker basket Gideon had been nestled in, and that she'd used to carry him around, Rumplestiltskin produced an identical one.

"This is my basket, dearie, not that one."

They were virtually identical, only Gideon's seemed to have a bit more wear and tear, though nothing too obvious. He inspected the child's clothes next, showing as much surprise as she had when he noticed the strangeness of them, how finely-spun they were, and how oddly-decorated. When he saw the blanket, however, he looked downright terrified. It was clear that he recognised it, somehow, but it didn't bring him any comfort.

"This baby... we need to know where it came from. Now."

"It's not an it, it's a he. His name is Gideon."

He seemed taken aback by her fervent reprimand, but recovered quickly and gestured for her to follow him. They went upstairs to his workroom, where she seldom was allowed, and while Belle rocked little Gid, trying to keep him distracted- the smell of potions seemed to be getting him fussy- her master ransacked the room, emitting a triumphant little giggle when he found it: a small, round crystal ball.

"This little thing needs replacing, but it's still good for one more scry. Let's find the poppet's parents, shall we?"

He looked intently at the babe and whispered into the crystal ball. Belle leaned close to try and see but was disappointed when nothing but their reflection showed up on the glassy surface.

"Magic must have ran out. This might be more complicated than I thought. Might need to procure something else to solve this little mystery."

Though Rumplestiltskin was flippant Belle knew, somehow, that he was shaken. And now that she thought about it she understood. The Dark Castle was heavily guarded yet someone had managed to sneak in and leave the baby. A baby her master couldn't find the parents of through simple magic, a baby with strange clothes and a basket identical yet somehow older than the one he owed.

"Take the little babe to the nursery. Might as well have him comfortable till we figure out where he comes from."

The second magical go at finding out Gideon's parents backfired too, a globe, topped by a needle, where Rumple had little Gideon prick his finger, holding him steady over the glowing orb. The resulting magic drew a map of the Enchanted forest, with Gideon's tiny droplet of blood landing squarely were the Dark Castle was.

"Well, that's a bust too. Damn thing's tracking the lad, for all the good it does us, and not his parents."

Belle glanced sideways at him, noticing how comfortable and natural he looked holding little Gid. Usually Rumple was very stand-offish with the babies, almost always refusing to hold them, dumping them on her as soon as he was able and otherwise keeping them at a distance. But somehow, he seemed to have forgotten all about his aversion to babies, since he was holding Gideon close, the baby sniffing at the sorcerer, finding something comforting in his smell. Rumplestiltskin was absentmindedly petting the baby's hair, of which he had plenty. When he finally noticed he all but tossed the baby over to her and told her to go clean something, which was code for 'I'm feeling vulnerable and need a moment'. Belle graciously went to pretend to dust the library.

There were other attempts after that. Though Rumplestiltskin seemed to be waiting for the acquisition of a certain specific magical instrument to make another serious try at discovering Gideon's identity, he fiddled with a few things in the meantime, with no positive results. The child, far from recoiling from magic, seemed to seek it out. He had determined Rumplestiltskin was a good person, because he was calm as one please every time the imp held him close, or when he talked in a low, more human tone. He kept on being his well-behaved, hungry little self, eating, sleeping and being curious when awake and sated. Though he tended to favour her he sometimes seemed more in the mood to listen to Rumplestiltskin's nonsense and fussed until he changed hands. Her master pretended he needed the wee one for something whenever he picked him up, some hair of an imprint of his tiny hand. He was careful with the babe, knew exactly how to cradle him, how to hold him so that his head and limbs were perfectly secure. She had caught him more than once absentmindedly burping the baby or even feeding him.

As the days passed without Rumplestiltskin having any success Belle dared hope they could keep little Gideon with them. The child seemed already frightfully attached to them, after all. But as soon as she began to entertain the possibility her master announced he had acquired the necessary ingredients for a full-proof spell to lead them to Gideon's parents. He let her into the workshop to show her the cauldron where a bright golden potion simmered.

"I'll just need two droplets of blood from the little poppet. The potion with find his parents and mark them and I'll just track the magical signature. Easy as pie."

The limp state of his hair and his wrinkled clothes belied his words, but she wisely made no comment. She allowed him to prick Gideon's foot and squeeze two droplets of blood out, after which the potion began to react violently, swirling around until it shot out two bright orbs, one that hit her on the side of the neck and the other that got Rumplestiltskin on his nape, sending them both to the floor. Gideon cried, unhappy about being jostled about.

"Another failure?"

It seemed strange to her. Rumplestiltskin was, as far as she could glean, centuries old, and incredibly powerful. That he would fail so many times at something as simple as tracking down two people seemed strange, if not downright impossible.

"... I don't think so."

His voice trembled, and when she looked at him his eyes and moth were wide open and he was staring at the baby in a way he never had before. Half-scared and half in awe.

"I don't understand. The potion was supposed to find his parents and mark them."

"I... I think it did. It marked you and me. Just like the crystal ball showed our reflection and the globe marked the child's parents as being inside the Dark Castle." He giggled, a wet and choking sound, and peered intently into Gideon's small, thin face. "He has your cheekbones... and my eyes."

Belle looked down at the child, recognising her delicate bone-structure in him, as well as Rumple's brown eyes and his slightly-pointy ears.

"It's... it's not possible. I've never been pregnant. I've never even... and Gideon's weeks old. I've been here for months, and you've seen me being distinctively not pregnant the whole time."

"And yet the child was wrapped in a baby blanket identical to my own, only mine is safely locked away were I left it. And the basket is identical to my own, only it's not." His voice was soft, deep and incredibly human, and it somehow scared Belle, how undone by it all Rumplestiltskin was. She remembered Gideon's name embroidered into his clothes, remembered how strangely familiar the stitches had looked, and it made sense then. They were her own.

When she focused on Rumple again he was tearing the older basket apart, until two rolls of paper fell out from the very entrails of it. He picked one, inspecting it closely. It seemed blank at first, until Rumple pricked his finger and let his blood run down the paper. It settled oddly, slowly forming letters and then words.

"Blood magic. How clever I am."

Belle leaned in, reading over Rumplestiltskin's shoulder a letter written by, apparently, himself. She recognised the handwriting easily. The letter told a strange story, of a terrible threat and untold destruction. Of two parents, desperate to protect their new-born babe, destined one day to bring peace, but unable to survive while the evil rose. Of a vision of the child living, safe and sound, in a time past. A safe place, where he'd be happy. Where he could be with his parents and be part of a family.

"Time-travel is not possible."

Belle knew Rumple enough to notice the hesitation in his tone, the acknowledgement that something he'd believed to be true might not be after all. She knew time-travel was one of magic's few limitations, had read enough books on magical theory to know that, but the mounting evidence seemed to indicate someone had found a way around that old rule. Which meant she was hold her son. Perfect little Gideon, named after her favourite character in her favourite book. Her own, her blood.

And Rumplestiltskin's.

She had not known what to expect after finding out Gideon's identity, but she hadn't thought Rumplestiltskin would become a veritable ghost in his own castle, an unseen and yet present entity that skulked around corners and hid out of sight just as she thought she might catch a glimpse of him. It wasn't that he was out of the castle much more than before, the opposite. Though she couldn't see him much she always knew he was around. He just seemed to always must be wherever she was not. At first, she hadn't minded, being too enraptured by Gid to pay him much attention. She had finally stopped fighting her instincts with the baby, knowing he was hers and she wouldn't have to give him up, and showered him with affection and care. Though he slept, as always, in her bedroom, she set about redecorating the rather generic nursery next to her room specially for him. And though she did everything herself, at first, soon she started to see Rumplestiltskin's invisible hand working its magic in the room. Toys would appear out of nowhere, as would linens and clothing and once a beautifully-crafted rocking chair.

Sometimes she'd leave Gideon alone to cook, change the sheets or something else and though the child was always alone when she returned to the nursery she could feel the faint static of magic in the air, and sometimes even catch the last of Rumple's characteristic smoke dissipating. But no matter what she did she could not get him to talk to her more than a few sentences, or be in her presence for more than five minutes. It was like living with a wild deer, skittish and wary of her.

In the beginning, she'd thought that it was Gideon who frightened him. After all he must have had a child at some point, to be so knowledgeable of their care, only to have lost him. She had found a room, a little boy's room, which seemed to support her theory. Babies were fragile creatures, and Belle herself got scared every time Gideon sneezed or had a bad colic. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to be a parent again after experiencing the loss of a son. But after a while it became clear that Rumple spent time with Gideon, as much as he could whenever she was not looking after him. Sometimes, if she stood outside the nursery and made no sound, she could hear her master poof into the room and talk with the baby, even sing to him. He had a lovely voice when it was pitched low and his accent was thick, and she was unsurprised to feel butterflies in her stomach.

If she was being fair she had to admit her attraction to Rumplestiltskin was old, older than she would care to admit even. It had started with small things, with shared jokes, the discovery of a similar interest or two, the sharing of small intimacies. Their mutual otherness had called out to each other and before she knew it Belle was catching herself admiring the way the light hit his skin, in particular that spot made visible by his open collar, and the way his pants hugged every bit of him. She had never liked the sort of tall, bulky knights that were the norm back home, so it was not surprising to find that short, thin sorcerers were more her preference.

By the time she realised what had happened she had grown wholly comfortable with Rumplestiltskin, the way she had seldom felt with anyone, and the matter of her deeper feelings seemed unimportant, something best left unexplored. Why ruin something good by pursuing what could not be? Surely her master didn't feel for her what she did for him. And yet now the proof of how wrong she'd been lived and breathed right next to her, in all his adorable glory. Somehow, in some future, she and Rumplestiltskin had managed to create a person together. That changed things completely.

Except, of course, that Rumplestiltskin was being too much of a coward to face her. And she might have let him evade her indefinitely, too weighed down by her own doubts and fears, if she hadn't caught him by surprise one night in the nursery. He'd been away for several days tending to a deal that, as far as she understood, asked a lot of him. It wasn't often that such a thing happened, but though immortal, Rumplestiltskin was not without limitations, nor was his strength infinite. She caught him slumped against the cot, watching the rise and fall of their child's chest as if it was some sort of magical phenomenon. He looked tired, his clothing torn in places and dirty in others and the fact that he hadn't magicked the wear and tear away told her a lot about how drained he was. He'd been reinforcing the castle's wards and running himself ragged acquiring all sorts of protective spells and defensive artefacts, determined to make the Dark Castle into a veritable fortress.

"He's getting better at sleeping through the night, but I still get up to check on him."

He startled visibly, turning his head to look at her and then swiftly looking down, a very faint blush dusting the top of his cheeks. Belle looked down at her simple nightgown and robe, made of serviceable cotton instead of the silk sleepwear she'd grown up wearing, and noticed they were a bit too thin, perhaps, certainly more revealing than her corseted, layered gowns.

"Yes, well, I was just checking on the wee bairn, didn't mean to disturb you, I'll just go—"

"No!"

Though her voice never rose over a whisper it froze Rumplestiltskin all the same. Perhaps it was because it was the middle of the night, and it was such an informal, casual encounter, or because Rumplestiltskin looked so raw and open, but Belle felt like it might be the best opportunity she had had in weeks to clear the air, to confront the elephant in the castle, so to speak.

"We need to talk about this."

Though she half-expected him to bold Rumplestiltskin remain where he was, looking wary but resigned. She looked around for inspiration as to how to approach the subject, feeling like she needed to do this correctly or her master would shut down completely and she'd lose her chance. Her eyes landed on Gid, snuffling in his sleep and she finally found the words.

"I spent a lot of time since we found out about Gideon's origin trying to figure out why our future selves chose to bend the fabric of magic to such a degree to send Gideon to us. And at first it seemed we were just... the safest place. Gideon would be with two people ready to do everything for him, as they knew we would. He'd be in the Dark Castle, away from any possible danger, guarded by the Dark One himself, and by the time the threat materialised he'd likely be old enough to deal with it, and we'd be prepared. But... I don't think that's it. I know myself, and I know you. And if I had to give up my child, to send him away, I would want him to be in a place of love. To grow up with a loving family. And I think they knew that just as they loved each other... so do we. They sent him here, to this point in time, because they knew we already loved each other back then. And if this is going to work, if we're going to do this right, you have to acknowledge this. I love you."

The deafening silence that followed her confession was unbearable, but Belle refused to look away or back down. The incredulity in Rumplestiltskin's eyes hurt but she reminded herself of how little his master thought of himself, how prone to self-loathing he was.

"You lie."

"I don't. I love you. Accept that."

"You don't. Stop lying."

He sounded almost angry, as if he resented being had. Belle squared her shoulders, knowing she needed to push him or he'd never believe her.

"I'm not. I love you. Now you say it."

He growled, taking a menacing step towards her. Belle resisted the urge to roll her eyes and stood firm. A minute passed, then another. Only when Belle felt herself close to tears did she relent, turning away so he could not see her cry. She didn't want to guilt him into any confession, didn't want it to be that way.

"Alright, be that way. I'll see you in the morning... I hope. I never know nowadays."

She hadn't taken more than two steps towards her room when she felt him right behind her, vibrating with something that wasn't quite anger. She stopped, willing herself not to tense, and waited for him to make a move.

"You wretched girl", he rasped out, his mouth so near her she could feel the words burning the back of her neck. His forehead came to rest between her shoulder blades, and Belle worried for a second that she pushed too much, too hard. That he might not be ready for it, that it would have been better to continue as they were, even if just for the sake of Gideon. A moment later he let out a hoarse, derisive laugh, that felt capitulating and joyful at the same time.

"I love you."

The words broke the tension in the room, making Belle sag forward, letting her rest weight on a chest of drawers in front of her, Rumplestiltskin pressing his body against her back. His head moved to rest atop her right shoulder, pushing her hair out of the way so he could nuzzle against her neck, tentative and determined at the same time. His breathing was ragged and the arms resting beside hers were shaking, but it didn't stop him from skimming his lips against the spot where her shoulder met her neck. She gasped, tilting her head to the side for no reason other than it felt right, felt like the thing to do. There was nothing but instinct to guide her forward, though her inexperience didn't make her feel at a disadvantage at all. Her master might be powerful and more versed in romantic matters than her but there was no doubt in her mind that she held most of the power in the room.

"I love you.”

His voice was little more than a growl, but somehow it did things to her no voice should have been able to. His right hand ghosted over her upper arm, shy at first, a feather-light touch, and took her hand to make her twirl around. They were close enough for Belle to feel the heat radiating from Rumplestiltskin's body and smell the scent of magic and sweat coming from him. His eyes were soft, almost liquid, open and vulnerable in a way that made her feel protective of him. Hesitantly he leaned forward, nose brushing her own a few times before dipping his head lower, his lips stopping just shy of hers. She could feel the tension radiating off him and she understood immediately the reason. The Dark One, scourge of the Enchanted Forest and supposed source of all evil, was asking for permission. If she hadn't been in love with him then, that would have certainly done it.

"Yes…"

It came out embarrassingly breathless but far from objecting Rumplestiltskin let out a needy little whimper before covering the scant distance between them, pressing their lips together. It was a short, tentative first kiss, a new meeting of sorts between them. The one that followed was much different, more languid and daring, unfurling slowly. Feeling like she might lose her footing Belle wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding tightly onto the stiff fabric of his vest. Even through the layers of clothing Rumple's characteristic warmth seeped into her skin, adding to the wonderfully-heady feeling of the kiss. Though she could tell he held himself back at first as the kiss continues Rumple melted against her, clawed fingers sinking into the fabric of her robe around the waist, scraping slightly against her skin.

Just as it felt like it might be too much too soon Gideon let out a loud wail, followed by pitiful little cries, fussing in a clear attempt to be picked up. It made the separation a little less awkward, Belle picking little Gid up and Rumple hovering at her back, looking over her shoulder at the fussy baby with the softest expression Belle had ever seen. Clearly, she was going to be the one to make rules and be sure Gid followed them when he grew up. Rumple was likely to do as the baby pleased.

They didn't say much else the rest of the night, though as the hours passed and Gideon continue to refuse to be put down on his cot they naturally made their way to her bedroom, Belle carefully placing Gideon in the middle before removing her robe and making her way under the covers. When Rumplestiltskin hesitated, she stretched out her hand towards him, glad when he had the presence of mind to change his clothes into something looser, and far less grimy. He hovered a few moments more, looking like he might bolt from the room before he slid into bed on Gideon's other side, smiling when the babe calmed down immediately and closed his eyes, apparently ready to sleep. A wonderful sort of intimacy stole over them, with little words needing to be spoken. Belle thought briefly about her future self, and how much she had likely fought for her child's happiness, and bowed to honour such sacrifice. She'd build a home for Gideon, both of them would. She would be a loving, nurturing mother and would raise Gideon up the best way she could.

"You know, we must not let him get used to this. He needs to know he can't just cry and get whatever he wants."

Rumple's sleepy little noise of ascent let her know he was, like her, on the verge of sleep. She yawned and burrowed into the sheets, happy in a way she hadn't felt before.

"Besides, I want him to have lots of siblings, and this way we will never get around to it."

"What?"

#rumbelle secret santa #sharinamay #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #thestraggletag fanfiction #The Safest Place #RSS

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aterriblethought · 7 years

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Trials and errors of translating Japanese

Happy new year! あけましておめでとうございます！ I’m working on a number of longer posts, but in the meantime, I thought I’d talk a little bit about some of the challenges of translating Japanese manga - in particular, how sometimes poor or liberal translations can have unintended consequences in how the story or a character is perceived.

There’s a number of different issues when it comes to translating Japanese to English. One of those is that Japanese is a highly contextual language; especially in the colloquial speech often used in manga, much is left unsaid or implied. It’s up to the reader to figure out who or what is being referred to, because Japanese sentences can leave out a subject altogether (it’s possible to make a sentence using only a verb; the word 食べる/taberu can mean anything from “I’m eating” to “She’s eating it” to “He’ll eat it”).

Another issue particular to manga is translating dialects or colloquialisms. There’s a lot of variety to how Japanese is spoken by different people in different places, and most English students of Japanese tend to start with the most common one (polite Tokyo dialect, typically). Another issue unique to Acid Town is the liberal use of harsh sort of gangster language and terms that are specific to the yakuza. If you’re unfamiliar with what those terms mean and how they relate to the yakuza, they can be difficult to translate.

Finally, in translating Japanese, there’s a lot of editing necessary to keep the dialogue sounding natural. If the translations are left too literal they can sound kind of wooden or too polite. Sometimes this necessitates changing what was written in the original Japanese to something more familiar to English speakers, or retaining the meaning while changing the words used.

One of the reasons I bring this up is Acid Town. The previous scanlation group did an awesome job, and for the most part, I’m just imitating their style and methods. However, when I had the chance to look at the original Japanese manga myself, and compare it to their translations, I sometimes found myself a bit taken aback at how liberal some of the translations were, and the subtle ways this alters the perception of the characters and their stories.

For example, in chapter 1, there’s a scene where Yuki and Tetsu are confronted by a gang of teens. Yuki manages to dodge Ken’s attack and knees him in the stomach, and fire off a little quip:

For the most part this is pretty close to what Yuki said in the Japanese. His original lines were: 「あ，ワリつい。。。足が勝手に」Which comes out to something like “Oh, sorry, my bad... my leg moved on its own”. The part about the leg is written as an aside and doesn’t even include a verb, the verb is just left implied. I can see how that might be translated to “Old habits die hard”, a common English idiom... but I guess what’s always bugged me is that this implies something about Yuki and his past that has never been mentioned in the story: that he’s been in fights before, and is used to responding with violence. Yuki is obviously taunting Ken here; it’s not like his leg really did move on its own. But I guess what I’m trying to say is there’s a difference between making a cute retort about something that happened once, and implying that this has happened often before. We do know that Ken and his gang are familiar with Yuki from before he met Tetsu, but it’s unclear if they ever had any violent run-ins. I think the ease with which Yuki and Tetsu defend themselves shows that they’re more than capable of handling a situation like this, which implies experience; but again, it’s a liberal interpretation of the line.

Edits like this are done to give characters more personality than a literal translation of the Japanese might, and the early scanlations for Acid Town especially take this to a bit of an extreme. This is the very next panel:

It maybe goes without saying, but the word “fuck” doesn’t exist in Japanese. The translation here is just meant to make Yuki sound more like a punk kid. The original Japanese comes out to something more benign like “Well, snakes or swine or whatever, we don’t care”. Japanese has curse words, but often it’s the way that a line is said that implies an insult more than the words used. The way Yuki is speaking is so flippant and insulting that it’s appropriate to go ahead and translate it this way, even if it’s kind of pushing things a bit. It retains the intention of the line better than a literal translation might.

Last one I want to bring up as an example is a panel from chapter 5, where Doumoto has announced his intentions to have his son take over the group, with Hyoudou as his right-hand man. Hyoudou kneels in front of Doumoto and says:

I’ve always been intrigued by the first line. What were his “wild ways” and what did Doumoto do particularly to save Hyoudou? In a later chapter we see Ryuu treating a young Hyoudou’s injuries, but it’s unclear exactly how Hyoudou got them. It wasn’t until I checked this line against the original Japanese that I started to get a sense that something fell out in translation. Here’s the original line: 「。。。使い捨ての鉄砲玉だった俺を拾って下さったご恩、今でも忘れたつもりはありません」which might translate literally as “Even now I’ve never intended to forget my debt to you for picking me up as a discarded bullet”. Haha, obviously this sounds incredibly awkward, but also this line has nothing to do with real bullets. 使い捨て means “disposable”, and 鉄砲玉 in yakuza terms actually refers to an assassin or hitman, particularly one who is meant to take out an executive of a hostile group. It’s a matter of course that this assassin is usually killed in the process. This actually says a lot now about who Hyoudou was and what happened and also, I think, why Hyoudou might be incredibly loyal to Doumoto. Possibly Hyoudou became a part of a rival group at a young age out of a sense of recklessness; being young and, probably, fairly useless, he was thrown at Doumoto (or possibly another Seidoukai executive) in an attempt on his life with the understanding he probably wouldn’t succeed. Who knows what really happened but Doumoto obviously took pity on Hyoudou and spared him, and now Hyoudou owes his life to Doumoto. I’m not entirely sure why the line was translated this way, if maybe the original translators were not familiar with the yakuza term, but it definitely omitted a very important detail about Hyoudou and his past and his relationship to Doumoto.

Anyway, thought some fans might find that interesting. :) Whenever I do translations I’m highly aware of all the ways things can go wrong with translating and editing, so if I’m unsure, I try to get help as best as I can. I’m painfully aware that once a mistake is out there, it’s kind of out there for good.

#Acid Town #Japanese #translation

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