#i just think... if they could got written together in an event... they could work with each other really well.....
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L I F E I S A H I G H W A Y !
Written by Prince-Toffee (me)
Art by the absolutely supreme @themazziah @cosmiccanineart
Created as part of The @spopbang 2024
Before we begin, I just want to say thank you to @themazziah for creating this absolutely gorgeous piece of art that you're looking at right now. It was so good in fact that I was inspired to rewrite the story to incorporate it into the narrative. When writers and artists were being paired up, I was sure I'd be left without a partner, but after you said that I was your first choice I was honestly so moved and touched. Thank you for picking me. Nothing I write could ever express how lovely it feels to read a kind comment like that. And that's why I'll try to get back into writing Entrapdak fics, it's been a while, and I'd love to do more, the world can never have enough Entrapta and Hordak in it. (and Glimmadora, my first time writing them, hope I did okay) Thanks, Mazz, I hope this story gives you a good few chuckles.
Second of all, thank you to all the organisers of @spopbang I may not know many people there well, but right from the start people were nothing but kind and helpful, and this event is a beautiful gift to the fandom. You guys are absolutely amazing!
Finally, on a more personal note, this is a three parter, I could only manage to finish Act One before the deadlines as I was working on my final university assignments at the same time, and now I'm finished and free! And I can't think of a better way to celebrate! I'll try to get the rest of the story out as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy this little space road trip.
Life Is A Highway
Act One (of Three)
~One Year After The Defeat of Horde Prime
CloneTown, or as the inhabitants of the settlement chose to dub it, Doormat, was a small shanty town at the foot of Mount Dryl on top of which Castle Dryl stood. The doormat of Dryl, of Etheria, of the universe, Adora assumed that was the intended joke. The warrior of light examined the sign closely, a hastily put together sign stood before her, it read: ‘Welcome To’ with CloneTown crossed out. A separate board, made of wood not matching the rest of the sign, was nailed underneath, on it carved crudely was ‘Doormat’. Adora never knew clones had a sense of humour, then again, it wasn't like she spent much time among them. Or at all. As She-Ra, the Protector of Etheria, she visited many villages on the continent, observed as many cultures of as many people as she could, opened her heart and reached out a helping hand to all... all except the newest refugees of Etheria. Every time she had ventured to a clone settlement, she felt unease - most villages across Etheria worshipped her (so to speak, and that invited its own unique forms of exhaustion), but when she set foot on clone grounds, she felt unwanted, which of course, she was. Perhaps the unease emerged from the fact that all the staring eyes that silently watched her stroll into town as she did so now, all belonged to the same face, the face of her old master. One she worshipped in her youth, but no longer. But that didn't matter now, now she was walking down the muddy roads of Doormat, and attracting quite a few puzzled, angered glares. Adora approached in her normal form, strolling up as a 9-foot-tall glowing, radiant, goddess might have been a bit too much. Not that it mattered too much as she still stuck out like a sore thumb, she was the only non-clone in the village, nothing she could do about that. The warrior was cloaked in torn and tattered robes, a hood obscuring her face, so at least they didn't know who she was.
Soon enough the Warrior of Grayskull happened upon her destination, Bar Nefcy, a local, clone-ran establishment. She got a bit lost, but Entrapta’s directions were correct. There was a hanging sign spelling out the bar’s name in uncharacteristically bright pink paint. Almost acting as a centrepiece of the town. From what she heard about it, the establishment acted as a sort of neutral ground for clones: regs, defects, and whatever came between. And as she entered the establishment, she wondered whether that mentality and ideology would extend to her. And almost immediately she got her answer as the chatter throughout the room stopped, all the various patrons turned to look at her, a sea of red and green eyes staring into her. She wasn't exactly scared, if anything came down to violence, she had plenty to keep herself safe, including the enormous broadsword channelling cosmic energy that would transform her into the most powerful woman in the universe. Adora made her way over to the barline and sat herself down, each of her footsteps making the wooden floor creak, which could be heard over the silence.
She attempted to stay invisible and stay silent until her contact would show up, however that turned out to be unlikely as she caught a glimpse of her bartender, a small “Oh!” escaped her and she immediately regretted it, and felt awful about it. Adora’s bartender did not look like a regular clone, he was downright bizarre, he was overgrown with vines, flowers, and moss, all intertwined and weaved into the clone’s being. Where his eyes would be, now two thick vines ran outward spreading into a patch of moss and grass atop his head. Effectively rendering the man, blind. Admittedly, she stared for a bit too long, but she didn't think he'd know.
“Well?!”
“?”
“I may be as blind as a bat, but my hearing is as good as ever. I heard you walk in and sit down, the floorboards are on purpose. So? What’ya want?”
Adora gulped, and put on her best diplomatic voice, “No drink for me, sir. I only ask permission to stay in your bar for- I don't know, uh, a few more minutes. I'm meeting a... friend, shall we call him. A clone. I'm a friend! An ally!” Whoof. She never had to pull that card out before. The bartender didn't seem to look convinced. The diplomatic voice slipped halfway through all that. “Please.” She finished with an awkward smile on her pinched face.
“Uh huh, look this is a clone-establishment, not for… natives. You're unsettling my clientele, so if you'd be so kind and find the exit as I can't, ya know on the account of a magic flower growing out of my face. Good day, Princess.” Wait he knew? How? Was her voice that recognisable?
Just then another voice rose from the back of the bar, from a far corner booth, “Ah, come on Manny! I thought this was a ‘neutral ground’ and whatnot. You gonna denie the guy their poison? They're just trying to get through today like the rest of us.” The bartender, who Adora now knew was named Manny, groaned in annoyance, if he could roll his eyes, he would have. Adora turned around to see where the voice was coming from. There, far in the back, in the corner booth, set an elderly patron a clone no doubt, he spoke with the same voice. But he too looked downright bizarre, unlike all the other clones. This clone was thin, like a skeleton, he looked sickly. (A defect, they were called, she believed, though not entirely sure). The lower half of his face looked normal enough, well for a clone that was. But the top half of his head was a glass-like red dome with some strange displays flashing inside like a radar monitor. And not only that, protruding out of his face was a long witch-like nose, sharp as a knife. Almost as sharp as the red teeth that formed a, what was meant to be a friendly, smile.
The clone wore a mechanical suit (of armour?) that framed his skeletal features. His feet were kicked up on top of the table. His feet resembled… clamps? Like mechanical vulture talons. There was another clone at the corner booth with them, but they had their back turned to Adora, they were clearly uninterested in this interaction. The vulture-like clone stood up and wobblingly made his way over to Adora. It was clear he was drunk. But from Manny’s reaction she gauged that this was his default state. The bird-like man spoke up again, “Leave the freak alone. ‘Serve all, not one’, right?” The woman noticed that the clone acted as if he had a cup or glass in his hand... But he didn't, there was no drink in his curved hand.
“V,” Manny spoke, so that was his name, “Should have known this freak was with you, something always happens when you're around here. Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go, and you always bring it here. So why don't you take your royal friend, and go lead trouble away from here.”
“I won't cause any trouble, I promise.” Adora proclaimed, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, she placed the page onto the table and slid it over to Manny. “I'm actually here on behalf of the Queen, to hand you this Establishment License to let you run your business officially... it was illegal before, just so you know. As a show of gratitude and togetherness.” Adora gave her best smile. Manny just looked at the piece of paper and groaned, he turned around and walked off with the paper in hand, grumpy. Adora swivelled around back to V, she awkwardly thanked them, “Hey, thanks, uh, V was it? For taking my side. And I'm sorry I caused a commotion here.”
“Eh,” He waved dismissively, “Don't take it too personally kid, Manny over there's still a little peeved that you turned him and a bunch of others into walking compost heaps back when you turned The Velvet Glove into a giant tree, heh.”
“I- I did that to him?”
“Oh, not just him, every clone hibernating in a pod and whatnot. Thousands.”
“Oh, gods, what have I done.” She murmured to herself, she combed through her hair, a thousand yard stare on her face. “I'm so sorry... I didn't know I was unwelcome.”
“Eh,” He shrugged, “Don't take that too personally either, neither is he.” V pointed behind him with his thumb towards the doorway. Adora followed the thumb to the silhouette in the door frame. Hordak. Her drinking partner had arrived.
The Ex-Lord of the Horde entered the establishment and silence befell the bar once more, the collective of eyes glared at him and followed him as he slowly made his way over to the warrior Princess. Not too different of a reaction that they greeted Adora with. V just then realised there wasn't a drink in his hand and so he moved out of the way to give Hordak room to sit down next to Adora. He did so. The villain maintained silence, Adora thought it was to seem intimidating, but in reality he simply had no idea how to talk to people, and was too awkward to be the one to begin the conversation.
Hordak was cloaked in a black cape and hood. His blue, curly, fringe poking out from under the hood. Another thing she just now noticed about Hordak was that his eyes were different, usually fully blood red with black makeup around, just now realising that those must have been contact lenses of some sort, because now she witnessed his real eyes. Soft and organic rather than the glass shields which is what their texture usually looked like. Now his corneas were fully pitch black with black pupils and bright blood red irises, the way they shifted about it somehow made him far more emotive. He was clad in matte black and gun metal grey plated armour with neon red highlights running throughout. No Horde symbol on his chest plate however, The Wings of The Vampire where nowhere to be seen. What Adora didn't see was the First One's crystal embedded within his armour powering his entire suit. He wore the same double slit dress he always wore, thighs on full display. That was certainly a choice.
Adora spoke up first, “Sooo, ahem, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked to meet with you.”
“Yes.” He spoke with his deep, smooth voice, “Entrapta, my dearest, did not disclose why you wished to meet. And why here of all places. I am usually summoned to BrightMoon by the Queen.”
“Weeeell, I thought meeting here might make you feel more comfortable. Heard this place serves drinks to anyone, guess... guess not.”
“Hmm, indeed. I do not drink here. I am unwelcome. I do not blame anyone for that belief. My shunning is just.”
“I thought you'd be a hero to your people, especially after killing Prime and all.”
“You killed Prime. I'm surprised many of my brothers haven't turned to worship you She-Ra Adora.”
“It's just Adora. And more people ‘worshipping’ me is the last thing I want.”
“And as to why many of my brothers hate me? Well, everyone has their own reasons. For many I will always be that authority figure, a High-General, sending them off to their deaths. For others, like Manny here, good man that Manny, they believe my... ‘campaign’ here has led to your people hating them. I destroyed any chance of a peaceful coexistence. I am keen to agree with him.”
Adora didn't disagree, but there was more to it. She did not want to unpack all of it just yet so she chose to instead change the topic of conversation, “Hordak. The reason I wanted to meet with you... I have a job for you.”
“I imagined as much. However, it is usually the Queen who imparts assignments upon me and my brothers. Why this- breaking of routine?”
“Because this concerns the Queen. This ‘job’ isn't her idea, it's mine, in fact, it took a lot of convincing to get her onboard.”
“And the mission is?”
“A road trip, so to speak.”
Hordak quirked his brow. “Ooooh-kay.”
“There is an Intergalactic Conference in the Summit solar system, few galaxies away. Glimmer needs to attend in the next few days. It's quite possibly the most important event in Etheria’s history.”
“And what does the conference pertain to? If I may ask?”
“Securing Etheria’s status in the universe. Glimmy wants to appeal to The Council of The Known Universe and have Etheria recognised as a developed-enough world to join The Council. Ever since Etheria had been freed from Despandos it has been at the mercy of the rest of the universe. As a magical mediaeval world, Etheria’s has been seen by the rest of the universe as ‘underdeveloped’ and ‘primitive’ and as ‘defenceless’. Becoming a part of The Council will grant us safety. Their technology advancements. Limitless food and medicine - access to planets they’ve constructed dedicated solely to agriculture and harvesting. Respect among other worlds. Protection from other tyrants across the cosmos like Prime. Make sure it never happens again. The Council of The Known Universe, turns out, was established to create a barricade against tyrant empires like Prime and The Galactic Horde. Etheria needs protection like that, but there's a problem.”
Hordak placed a hand against his chin as he pondered on the matter, “The Primusians.”
“Yes. You've heard?”
“I have, through the ‘grapevine’ as you would call it; clones talk, or think (telepathically), especially here. V doesn't keep anything to himself. Primus pirates have been assaulting crafts around the system, many of them clones seeking home off-world. They've been quite active since our ‘stunt’ with the Minister of Armament and Defence. You're afraid they have their sights set on the Queen. Making transporting her a major risk.”
“Yeah, you got it. I knew you'd catch on.” Hordak shot her an inquisitive look as well as a bombastic side eye, “Anyway, the plan is to send a new unmanned decoy ship on the route to the conference. Pirates explode it, and hopefully they'll think the bodies got incinerated.”
“That's that then.” Hordak remarked satisfied.
“Yeah, except Glim still needs to make it to Summit. And that's where you, and your... team comes in. I hear you have a ship, don't know how, but you do. You'll escort Glim on the longer way around the Black Donut system and deliver her to the conference on time.”
“That will take days.”
“One week exactly. One way each. That's why I’m here now, the Queen’s orders.”
“It does not sound like the Queen would be thrilled about this idea. My brothers can be... a lot.”
“She isn't. But she knows it's the right thing to do.”
Hordak sighed. “Adora why would I-“
“Because you owe me.” She suddenly became incredibly serious, her glare at Hordak hardened, and Hordak fell silent. He really did. Freeing him from Prime’s influence. Dropping in a good word for him at his trial. He most likely wouldn't have been with Entrapta at all without her. He simply nodded in agreement. “And... because I love her.”
“And you would trust me to keep her safe?”
“The same way I'll keep Entrapta safe while you're gone... So? Deal?”
- - -
Day One (of Seven)
“No. No deal.” Glimmer remarked defeated. “This is a bad- ugh- I don't like this plan, just stating that for the record.” The Queen of BrightMoon spoke to the holo-pad, arguing with the screen. On the other side of the screen was a smiling but slightly scared Adora. Glimmer marched through the corridors of Castle Dryl, the never-ending labyrinth, that Glimmer was 80% sure was constantly shifting, trying to confuse her. It didn't help that she was constantly going down, deeper into the mountain. Entrapta was the master of traps after all. But Glimmer continued on her path anyhow. She had a map display hovering over the holo-pad that clearly outlined where to go. And surely this wasn't a trap, a planned scheme to assassinate her, right?
“I know what you're thinking; It's not a trap.”
“I- wasn't thinking... that.” She squinted at the map overhead, “I swear the corridors are moving, how is that even possible. It also doesn’t fill me with confidence that Entrapta called this, ‘The Basement’.” The monarch wore her traditional purple outfit, glittering cape, golden accents around the belt, shoulder pauldron, and of course her royal tiara. Her stern look faded away and a sadness took its place. “Why couldn't you’ve come with me?”
“~Oh, StarLight, I'm sorry. I want to always be at your side, and I would be if I could. But the strange signals emanating from the Crystal Castle, it could mean LightHope’s back. And if LightHope is back, which her is she? And why would she be transmitting off-world?”
“So you'll be on the other side of the universe.”
“As soon as I'm done I'll B-line it to you. Just- just wait for me. You're in good hands until then.”
“...I wish I could hold you, I miss you already.” Glimmer's words brought a warm smile to the She-Ra’s face. Adora turned away, avoiding eye contact, a blush rising across her face.
“I miss you too. But please, trust me, it'll be okay.” Adora turned to look at something out of the holo-pad’s view, she sighed, “I have to go. I love you. See you in a week.”
And the transmission terminated.
Glimmer sighed. Already missing Adora’s voice. She believed she was approaching her destination, a large mechanical door stood before her. The GPS on her holo-pad indicated that she had reached ‘The Hangar’. “Okay.” She accepted the journey ahead with one word. Glimmer swiped the touchscreen on her whole pad, the bypass code got transmitted to the control panel at the doors ahead. The green light indicated the door unlocking. And the metal doors slid upward with a hiss. A light spilled into the corridor, so much so Glimmer had to shield her eyes with her hand. She took a step inside and almost tripped over immediately. She looked back to see what it was, and noticed that the floor was littered with a variety of… strange and seemingly unrelated things; Pipes, cables, and various other pieces of machinery, she guessed. There were also art supplies; Paint buckets, brushes, canvases, and spray cans. As she turned around to face forward once again she ducked immediately as she was almost closelined by a low hanging clothing line, various photographs hung up along it. Various landscapes from the brief glimpse that Glimmer caught of it.
“Look out.” A familiar voice called out, but it came from an unfamiliar character. Glimmer followed the voice to match it to the clone face. The man wasn’t even looking at her, which meant she must have yelped quite loudly at some point. She re-composed herself and made her way to the clone, the closer she got, the more details revealed themselves to her. The man was, in fact, a clone, he had the same voice and Hordak’s face, but that was almost where the similarities ended. The tuft of hair on top of his head was dyed in a patchwork of every colour, it was quite strange seeing all that colour on a clone. But the most defining characteristic was the fact that he was wheelchair bound due to his two missing legs, amputated just above the knees. The defect was sat in front of a sizable canvas, a paintbrush in hand and in the middle of creating a new painting. The painting was, no doubt about it, gorgeous. It depicted Doormat, at the foot of Mount Dryl. The light that had blinded Glimmer earlier when she entered had come from the massive open hangar bay doors letting the daylight in. She assumed that was where he got the photos and references from.
“It's beautiful.” She remarked.
“What? This? Thank you, but no, it's just a warm up, and it's hideous. I think I might be having an off day. See that tree?” The clone pointed to a perfectly fine tree on the painting.
“Right.” She should have probably introduced herself, “I'm-“
“Cargo.” He finished.
“Not how I'd like to put it. But yeah, I- uh- I’m Glimmer.”
“I know. You’re the Queen. You send me and my brothers on suicide missions.”
“Yeah... uhmm, yes, soooorry about that, and you are?”
“Moe.”
“Moe. I'll- I'll remember that. Is Hordak here?”
“He's with Entrapta, doing… whatever mad-scientists do. Making time travelling microwaves that send your meal forward in time to when it's already done?”
“Heh, it's Entrapta, it wouldn't surprise me. She can do anything she sets her mind to.”
The joke seemed to resonate with the artist, he smiled, “We're taking off soon, Dak’ll be down in a bit, feel free to get set up on the ship, try getting used to it, the trip’ll be a few days long.”
“Thanks.”
Glimmer turned to the ship in question, The Annihilation it was called. It was a Horde troop carrier dropship repurposed as a mobile home to The Defects as they recently began calling themselves. Looks like they were really owning it. The dropship had a new paint job, no doubt thanks to Moe, an angry face painted over the cockpit, angry eyes and a row of sharp teeth. And a mural on the side of the hull, abstract, but unfinished, she presumed. The ship had Christmas lights hung up all along it, a TV satellite dish on top, and a footpath leading to the lowered ramp into the loading bay. The Annihilation was surrounded by a white picket fence, turf of fake grass, a small cheap fountain (kinda ugly, with a gnome spitting out water at the centre). And a mailbox at the front, not that anyone ever sent in any mail, it was all very cute however.
The Queen of Light made her way into the loading bay, up the ramp, and quickly realised it was... A living room? A TV, a couch, and a carpet. All bolted down so it wouldn't fly out presumably. She was surprised at the mundanity of it all, she was expecting something far more alien or militaristic. While her head was in the clouds she tripped yet again. She growled at her own clumsiness, “What? Do I have two left feet today? What now?” She looked down at what had tripped her up and she almost jumped out of her skin. It was a man, slumped over, on the ground, leaning against a wall, a cable lodged into the back of his head. He was silent, he wasn't moving. Glimmer’s thoughts raced madly; He's dead. They killed someone and stuffed him into their ship. She was looking at a corpse right now!
Then a voice came from above, “Heh, you know that happened to me once.” She looked up to see a skinny man hanging upside down from the ceiling like a bat, he smiled with his bright red fangs, “Mortar shell. Blew me into pieces. Turns out I grabbed someone else’s leg! HA!”
“...Wh- What?”
“Two left feet! We all match so the joints just pop in! Customizable action figures, batteries sold separately.” V cackled to himself as he descended from the ceiling and landed before the monarch. Glimmer wasn't sure how to respond, or what she was looking at, some sort of birdman? She was at a loss for words, since her mind was still on the potential corpse at her feet. “V.” He indicated himself with his hand.
“Is this a dead body?!” She pointed to the clone on the floor in panic and anguish. V craned his neck to look past the Queen. V waved it off matter of factly.
“Eh, don't worry about Drag. Kid’s just taking a nap.”
“So I shouldn't be worried?”
“Oh, well, no, you definitely should. ‘Nap’ so to speak. The truth is far more horrifying. You see little Drag is in a state of constant rapid brain degradation the curjigger he's hooked up to continuously recreates his brain through... woff nanobots? I don't know, Dak’s the one who does machines. The boy fainted not long ago, so he'll be out for a good while.”
“How long is he usually out for?” She still asked panicked.
“Uh, I don't know, varies, sometimes hours, sometimes days, whatever the story needs really. I'm sure he'll be back by the third act.”
“... What are you talking about?”
“I don't know. Anyways, make yourself at home, but not too much, the chaotic mess is on purpose.”
“The ‘I know where everything is’ type of organisation system?”
“What? No, I don't know where anything is, it's just to annoy Hordak. Sometimes I dump buckets of mud and dust inside just to see how furrowed his brows can get. Ha! He gets so angry.”
Glimmer just now noticed that V had patted the couch as he made his ‘make yourself at home’ statement. “Wait, I'm… sleeping on the couch?” She remarked in disbelief.
“Weeell, yeah, what did you expect?”
“A room?!”
“Ahhh... No. Heh. No.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Hey, it's not that bad, this is the best spot on Anni! You got a perfect view of the TV (which has channels from the next three galaxies). A few itchy blankets and who knows what wonders hide between the couch cushions; Just today I found Drag’s goldfish’s food... Oh shoot, I knew I forgot something.” He tapped his chin.
“I'm in Hel. I died, and now I'm in Hel.”
“HA! Not yet. But The End is coming. Soon!” V waltzed away saluting her away as he ventured off to check up on his younger brother’s fish.
“Wait! Can't I have Drag’s room? Or is his room the corridor?” She asked sarcastically.
“Sorry, Candy Floss, he ain't interchangeable. You’ll just have to deal with it.” The doors to Drag’s bedroom closed and he was out of earshot.
“...Great. Perfect. Great idea, Adora. Thanks, hun.”
- - -
“I wish you could stay.” Entrapta sadly remarked.
Hordak took a moment to reply, he looked away and down, “... As do I, Beloved.”
It was another day, another mission and once again the universe had decided to tear them apart as it often did. It was especially bittersweet and tragic as the couple had plans for today, family picnic, so to speak. Entrapta sighed as she soldered the motherboard in front of her, their mask down and covering her face, “I was really looking forward to working on the power couplings for the hyper light telescope. I bet we can see the Lynks system from here! I heard rumours that they've managed to construct an entire artificial star! It powers their two nearest colonies!... I- I can wait for you... And we could do it together when you get back, how long can the escort be? Two?- Three days?” She tried to keep up a genuine smile.
“We estimate a week to the Summit system, and one week to return.” Hordak hid most of himself under his cape like a weighted blanket, “I know how much you love star gazing, you shouldn't have to wait for me. You should enjoy yourself without me.” He reached out for Entrapta’s hand. Entrapta let go of the soldering iron, and accepted the taloned hand of her partner. The Ex-Lord of the Horde softly massaged her hand, his thumb moving in circles.
She gently squeezed Hordak’s hand in return, “But I'd love for you to be with me. Us, together, you know?” She snuggled into Hordak’s chest, leaning her head against him. Dak held her hand and placing his other hand against Entrapta’s back, a gentle touch, “That's the life I wanted for us.” She murmured lowly, almost a purr.
“I know.” Hordak spoke solemnly.
“...It feels like we're apart every day now. I thought things would get better… and here you go again.”
“I know. But this request- it came from-“
“Adora, I know.” Entrapta lifted her mask, revealing a small smile, “That's the only thing I like about this.” That made Hordak raise one of his brows, “You, opening up to her, it's cute. She's a good girl. I'm glad you're making new friends.” She patted Hordak’s chest.
“Well, I wouldn't go that far-“
“Hordak.”
“Ah!” Hordak jumped, scared by the voice inside his head. The clone turned around to find Lee, another one of his brothers, just standing there – Menacingly. “Lee! How did you- ? Where? Why?!”
“We have a problem.”
*Italics indicate telepathy – Toffee*
“What?”
“The Queen is currently in our home.”
“Yes, she is the cargo.”
“…Why was I not informed of this?”
“Because you wouldn't have liked it.”
“We are transporting (possibly) the most powerful woman in the universe - that is going to turn heads, and paint a target on our backs. Are we not meant to be secret task force?”
“That is why we and the She-Ra are the only individuals aware of this mission. And, were you not the one who urged me to establish a more trusting relationship with the rulers of this world? Do you not think that a favour such as this would aid in improving relations between clones and natives?” Lee pondered on it, he nodded. He would have grunted if he could, unfortunately for Lee, his entire lower jaw was missing. By far his most noticeable and unique feature.
“...Sooo? Are we-? Is this-? Are we done? I'm just getting half of the conversation here, just so you know.” Entrapta poked in.
Suddenly V also appeared out of nowhere behind Hordak, “Hey we have a problem.”
“Gahhh! Where did you?! How- What?! Ugh. Yes, we know; the Queen.” Hordak face palmed.
“What? No. It's Drag’s goldfish, it's dead.”
“What? I thought you were feeding it.”
“I thought Lee was feeding it.”
“Well, I thought Moe was feeding it.”
Hordak sighed, face in his hands, “Fine, we'll figure it out on the road, just go, get out of here.”
Lee just looked at him, and turned away, “I'll be on the ship. I'm assuming all the relevant mission information is on board?” Hordak nodded. “Then I will be there, studying.” And the clone disappeared as soon as he appeared. V followed.
“He's scary good at that.” Entrapta remarked.
“Hmm.”
“I don't think he likes me.”
“They’ll come around...”
Both of them stood there for a moment, in silence. “So... you should probably get going.” Entrapta remarked sadly, not ready to let go again so quickly.
“Mmm.” Hordak looked around the lab, “Where is Imp? I wished to say goodbye to him before departing.”
“Probably hiding, lil rascal hates to see you go. He misses you you know.”
“I know…” A sadness washed over his face.
“Look, I know you're at work, the last thing you need up there is me. But-”
“I would spend my entire life at your side! I love your voice. I adore your beautiful mind. And worship your heart for all the love you have offered me. You are not a hindrance!”
“Okay, okay, haha.” She looked down at the ground with a warm blush on her cheeks, “I know, I get it.”
“You think so little of yourself, I know how you are. And I do not appreciate it.” He landed a soft kiss on his partner's cheek. Which drew a chuckle from her.
“OK, OK, enough! You know I can't take compliments!” She exclaimed joyously as she smooshed his cheeks with her soft gloved hands.
“It is my duty as your lab partner to remind you of your worth, your beauty and your wonder, and that is just a scientific fact. Now, what- uh- what were you going to say before I rudely interrupted?”
From a large pouch on her utility belt Entrapta fished out a small Rubik’s cube-like object, which shifted in her palm and unfolded into a large two-handed holo-pad, and handed it over to Dak, “You know how I've been working on the intergalactic communications array?! So, I've been working on downsizing it and managed to incorporate it into a screened device - this holo-pad will allow us to stay in touch, even worlds apart. It’s only a prototype, of course, but it should work perfectly.”
What a loving gift. Entrapta always bestowed such wonderful presents, Perfuma proclaimed that it was her love-language. Hordak did not understand what that meant exactly, but his mind wondered, how could he further ‘communicate’ in this ‘language’? “Beloved, I- This is a most thoughtful gift, but... it is standard protocol to not take any contraband that could possibly link us to and could be traced back to Etheria in case the ship is breached... but, I suppose with the literal Queen of Etheria on board, that rule does not apply.” He smiled. Entrapta matched the smile.
“I will call you, when you're on your way, later today.” She raised on her tippy-toes and kissed her tall partner on the cheek, “Keep you company.”
“I would appreciate it.”
Hordak and Entrapta lost themselves in each other's eyes as they often did, they wordlessly embraced in a warm hug. Their foreheads found each other, eyes closed, they allowed themselves to smile just a little.
“I love you.”
“I love you, more.”
“Scientifically impossible, I love you far more.”
“No, I love you more!” They giggled softly to each other.
- - -
Glimmer had unpacked, to the best of her abilities, that is to say she was pecking at one of her packed lunch sandwiches and marked the couch as her territory by placing her luggage all over it. The Queen was now just sitting on the couch, slouched. This was going to be a long trip, she could tell. So she tried to distract herself by glueing herself to the TV. Unfortunately, the channel she was watching was broadcasting from an alien system with a language she did not understand. She could infer from the tone of the voice and the acting what was going on. It was some sort of telenovela, ooorr a reality TV show? No, Glimmer had no idea where the remote was. So that was it, her life for the next week. Hopefully Adora and the rest of the Princesses would take her on the way back after the conference.
“Oh, nice, that's a good episode.”
“What?” She turned back to see V standing behind her like a dad at a BBQ over a grill, a coffee mug in hand.
“Sapphire Lakes. Great show. A handful of wealthy women who pretend to be friends are locked up in a small lake house for a week where they scream, lie and backstab each other for a cash prize. It's truly peak television. Tiffany's just confronting Jade about cheating with Keith.” He pointed gleefully at the screen.
“How do you know all this? It's not even in Etherian?”
V taped the side of his head, presumably where his ears would be, wait, did he even have ears? “Air-Vibration Translators. Convert any nearby language to clone speak.”
“Huh.”
“Your majesty.” Glimmer’s eyes followed the voice to the clone entering the drop ship, it was Hordak. Long black cape covering his body and draping behind him on the floor. His battle armour underneath, no longer bearing the symbol of the Horde, but rather the symbol of Dryl, purple gear with a star at its centre. Proud property of his wife.
“Hordak, finally. I wanted to speak with you.” Glimmer spoke up.
“Lee here?” Dak turned to V.
“Yeah, he’s in.” V replied, still glued to the TV screen.
“What? I didn't see anyone enter.” Glim remarked confused.
“Yeah, that's Lee. If he wants to, you won't see him all week.” V shrugged.
“One can only hope.” She murmured.
“I see you've already gotten acquainted with the crew. Uh- Make yourself at home, I suppose. We depart soon.”
“Uh- Thanks...”
“...”
“...”
“...Soooo, How- uh- how are you?...”
“Yeah, I'm- I'm good- I'm alright... How... Are you?”
“Good. Good...
“... Yeah.”
“... Alright, let's go.” He awkwardly turned around and departed to the ship's cockpit.
V stopped on the way, “Hey, Daky, beloved brother of mine, my favourite person in the whole wide cosmos.”
“What do you want?” Hordak sounded tired already.
“Can I drive?”
“No.”
“I'm a pilot! I was a pilot back in the day! I'm good at flying. I'm a pilot... Can I-?”
“You are not touching my ship.”
“But you let Entrapta work on the ship!?”
“That, dear brother, is because she's competent.”
Glimmer huffed as she leaned against the couch cushions, “This is going to be a long week.” She returned to her slouching.
Hordak marched up the small steps that led to the cockpit which was a narrow space; and sat one on the front seat, the pilot seat from which one would steer the ship via the steering wheel and the numerous unlabelled buttons covering the control panels on either side of the wheel, some blinking, some not. (How Hordak knew to press what, was beyond this trans-fourth-dimensional narrator.) V attempted to flick a switch, but his hand was slapped away by Dak, who didn't even take his eyes off the panel. V frowned like a toddler that was denied cookies from their mom, and he fell down onto the back seat of the cockpit, the navigator seat. The navigator would advise routes throughout space and monitor the status of the ship.
A finger taped Glimmer on the shoulder, she turned to see Moe, now on board, “Can I take some of these?” He asked, pointing to the pillows on the couch.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” She handed the clone the pillows, and watched him make his way to Drag. Moe climbed down from his wheelchair and gently moved his brother to lean forward, still unconscious, and placed a pillow behind his head. He wanted to lift his younger brother and place another pillow under him, but Moe, being a defect, was unable to lift his weight. So, he was surprised when Drag did lift up. He looked up surprised to see that Glimmer had lifted the comatose clone up by the underarms. Moe was pleasantly shocked for a moment, but continued and placed a pillow for Drag to sit on and one to lean against. Glimmer lowered him, and helped Moe up onto his wheelchair. And pushed his wheelchair to the couch.
“Thanks- Bay doors.” He pointed to a big red button with a lock image on it. Glimmer pressed it, and the ship’s ramp receded in and the heavy shutter doors sealed them in, and would seal the void of space out. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” They returned to the couch.
“He's always sore when he wakes up.” He remarked worryingly. The gesture was cute, that little act of kindness surprised Glimmer.
V’s voice echoed through the ship, “Non-clones and gentle-clones please take your seats as we're about to rocket ourselves into the void of space through a wall of fire surrounding the planet, so we're all probably going to die, so say your prayers to whatever deity you believe in, won't matter though because we live in a nightmare world where there truly is no god.” He announced cheerfully. A loud smack could be heard and an “Ouch.” from V.
Hordak’s voice came through, “Ignore him.”
“You’ll get used to that,” Moe spoke up, “That's like Dak’s catch phrase.”
“Is your brother, the bird one, always like that?”
“No, he's usually worse. He's on good behaviour since we have a guest over.”
“Are we- going to experience some turbulence? No offence to your brother but anything he makes is usually held together by duct tape. Are we about to turn into a giant fireball? He loves big fiery explosions.” Glimmer asked concerned, recollecting about the Fright Zone.
“HehHa! Yeah that sounds like Hordak, alright.” He wheeled himself over to a front corner of the ship which had a standing canvas, some small cabinets at the side supposedly housing some art supplies. There was also a small circular window at the corner framing the view of the outside. “The Annihilation has been through a lot, but you won't find a more reliable (and lucky) ship in The Holy Armada! You won't even feel the take off.”
“How do you know?” Glimmer asked unconvinced.
“Come take a look.” He just pointed to the window. Glimmer, confused, waltzed over to the window, her eyes widened in shock at what she saw. A blue surface, rippling and kicking up as the ship zoomed past; a river, then fields of trees, zipping by. They had already launched. Mount Dryl shrinking into the distance.
They had launched from the side of the mountain, out of the hangar bay doors, cloaked by Entrapta’s holographic disguise field. Soon they surpassed the clouds, and pierced into the atmosphere. For a moment the window became coated in fire and flame. And then it passed, and now the Queen of Light stared out into an endless black void reaching out into infinity. Across the blackness were white speckles; stars, distant suns, sustaining worlds and civilizations all of their own, Etheria a distant speck to them all.
Before they could leave Etheria behind there was one obstacle left; a barrier of warships guarding the planet from the upper atmosphere. An impenetrable wall of hull and fire power. The most powerful warships that side of the galaxy. After the Fall of Prime over a year ago the clones were freed from his control, left to aimlessly wander Etheria - for the first time in their lives without purpose. The clone population was stranded on Glimmer’s magical world, the Princess Alliance weren't about to just let their invaders take back their war machines and leave to who knows where, or worse, turn the weapons back against Etheria. So, at first the warships over Etheria were disabled. But over the following months, as Entrapta established communications with various systems, and rumours began to spill out. A sizeable number of them coming from the clone grapevine. The refugee clones slowly began to form pockets of community around Etheria. The Princess Alliance never stood against it, and even helped establish those pockets, BrightMoon was always involved in combating homelessness, a programme started by Glimmer’s mother, often allowing homeless citizens take shelter and live within the walls of BrightMoon castle.
Within the clone settlements many managed to establish contact with the outside, smuggling becoming a major enterprise. Clones being the main item smuggled off world. Through Hordak various rumours reached her; Word of various larger neighbouring systems eyeing Etheria with watering mouths. Smaller less developed planets often fell prey to larger powers, Glimmer wasn't about to let that happen. And the answer was right under her nose. The clones knew how to operate the worships, of course they'd be supervised by BrightMoon knights, but to her pleasant surprise the clones dedicated themselves to their posts rather quickly and without much convincing or argument. They were desperate for a mission, for a purpose. And so, Glimmer gave them one; Protecting their new home.
Glimmer sighed, “I'm going to be honest I would’ve felt much better about this if the starships could escort us... No offence, uh…”
“Moe.”
“Moe.”
“Short for Mosquitor.”
“Oh.”
“I'm guessing the point of all of this is to stay unseen, and not to attract much unwanted attention.”
“It is. Heh, not to mention the reason why we're going to The Council of the Known Universe is to make allies, it’d be hard to do that if we just pulled up with a starship overhead. Don't want to prove the threats and fear mongering rumours correct.”
“Didn't you just reason your way out of the predicament?”
“I suppose I did.”
“Also, those aren't starships, heh, you haven't seen a Starship yet. Warships of The Holy Armada are impressive, no doubt about it. But starships are unfathomably enormous. Giant rings, large enough to surround an entire sun, draw power from it, often acting as a shipyard constructing warships for the Prime’s endless conquest. They’re pretty, in a horrifying kind of way.”
Glimmer couldn't even imagine something of that scale. Things like that often made Glimmer put things into perspective of how small and secluded Etheria was. How little she was in the vastness of the cosmos. It frightened her, but she chose not to think about it. But unbeknownst to the Queen that phobia had led her actions subconsciously. Many people are guided by fear, even kings and Queens, whether they know it or not. Glimmer, whether right or wrong, was stepping along the path of fear.
Glimmer’s eyes scoured the dark space and managed to spot a small brush of green among the canvas of black, the only spot of colour in space. “Huh.”
Moe took note of the response, “What? The Velvet Glove? Huh, looks different than when I last saw it, greener!”
“Yeah, that might have been my and my friends’ doing. My… friend, Adora, kinda,” Glimmer scratched the back of her head, “Turned the ship into a giant tree.”
“With many of our brothers still within.”
“Yeah, sorry about thaaAAHHH!” The Queen of Light embarrassingly shrieked as she noticed a third figure standing behind them silently. A man missing his lower jaw. He narrowed his blood red eyes, their wrinkles around his eyes more visible. Glimmer covered her mouth like an old Victorian maiden. “Sorry. My bad. Sorry. Hehe.” Lee seemed unamused. The old clone’s pupils lit up and he turned to Moe. Moe turned back to face him, his pupils lit up too. The two stared at each other without a single word spoken for a moment or two. Glimmer’s eyes shifted between the two. Are they buffering? What's going on?
Moe returned his gaze to the Queen, “He– ugh, welcomes you on board and wishes you a pleasant stay. And is honoured to be in the presence of royalty, especially one of whom allows us to stay on your world.”
Lee signed with his hands, clearly some sort of sign language, Glimmer managed to make out some of it, but not enough to further the conversation, “I'm sorry I don't know sign language, I- I should but I don't.” She remarked sadly.
Moe translated for his brother, “He just wants to discuss with you- uh- some matters.” He sounded a little awkward and nervous. Lee gave him an angry look for not translating fully. Moe just shrugged.
Outside across the depthless night a streak of light zipped across their view, Hordak spotted it, and moved to tail the craft. It was the decoy ship. As a mediaeval planet-locked civilization BrightMoon had no spaceships with which to cross galaxies. Which was why Adora got Entrapta to step in, and she was all too overjoyed about it. Being the genius she was, Entrapta fished out a crashed Horde ship fixed it up and customised it, now sporting the colour scheme of BrightMoon; purple, pink, and gold, even a painted mural of Glimmer on the hull. You couldn't get more overt than that, if this bait wouldn't work, Entrapta didn't know what would.
That was a lovely day, Entrapta and Hordak made a whole day of it, a date, that was what normal couples did so they thought they'd try it out too. And it was wonderful. Just them working together, bouncing ideas off of each other, problem solving, like two lobes of the same brain working in tandem. It was like a dream. Hordak would cherish this memory for years to come.
Hordak pulled up behind the decoy ship. With a single press of a button the clearance codes were transmitted from The Annihilation to the warships. Then; quiet. This moment was always horrifying. The silence. The wait. Hordak and the rest of the crew knew the codes were correct, Glimmer approved them herself, but each time Hordak’s mind briefly flashed to the thought of; What if the codes were wrong? If the warships would open fire, they would be dead in seconds - if not instantaneously vaporised by the battery lasers then they would freeze in the void of space. Seconds ticked away. They waited for the go-ahead; Hordak tense, V, behind him, completely relaxed and indifferent - the fear of death had left the old clone long ago, and then...
A green light lit up on the control panel. And the barricade of warships began to part like the Red Sea. And the tightness in Hordak’s chest disappeared and he released a sigh of relief. The two ships bypassed the armada wall and soon after separated, Glimmer watched the bait craft shrink into a dot out of the window and disappear. Soon the armada faded from visibility as well, and they were off on their voyage, no turning back now. Nothing but an endless stretch of darkness.
“Well, I guess there's no going back now.” She stepped up to the cockpit and looked on at the eternal night ahead.
V put his feet up on the pilot chair ahead, annoying Hordak, “Why so gloomy your highness. They should call you Gloomer. We’re here to have a good time! You know this is a road trip, and you know what that means!”
Dak: “No.”
Moe: “Oh Prime.”
Lee just turned around and left to his room.
V opened a compartment in the chair he was sitting on and pulled out a CD, and practically crawled over Hordak to get to the front control panel and slid the disc into a rectangular device. Glimmer believed it was called a CD player. And so music began to play from it. A country song come on not that our protagonists knew what that was exactly. The song began:
‘Life is like a road that you travel on,
When there is one day here and then the next day gone,
Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand,
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind’
Hordak face palmed, unable to escape the sound of the song, trapped in the pilot's seat. He had clearly heard this song a thousand times before. “I can't believe this.”
‘There is a world outside every darkened door,
Where the blues will not haunt you anymore,
Where brave are free and lovers soar,
Come ride with me to the distant shore’
Glimmer bowed her head down and sighed, “This is my life now... for the next week... No going back.” She echoed the words to herself once more. She turned and waltzed back to the couch defeated.
‘We won't hesitate, to break down the garden gate,
There's not much time left today, yeah –
THE DEFECTS, FEATURING QUEEN GLIMMER OF ETHERIA, STARRING IN:
‘L I F E I S A H I G H W A Y !’
‘And I want to ride it all night long.’
End of Act One (of Three)
___
Next Time on LIAH
"I've been checking our food cabinets, some thing's eating our supplies, some thing's here with us."
Dun. Dun. DUN!
---
"Don't be mad!"
"What did you do?!"
"I said don't be mad!!!"
---
"Is that a shotgun?!?!"
---
"Fifty Romulaks?! Where are we crossing over to Terabithia?!!"
---
"Keith... I'm pregnant."
"I knew it."
To Be Continued
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#kickdraw#granblue#eusaac#eustace gbf#isaac gbf#i forgot to post this when i drew it lol#oops oops :')#i still love them - rewatched isaac's fate eps w my bf the other day cause he hadnt seen them and oouugghhh he is Going Through It#they also have more comparison points than i remembered - im truly a genius#(guy who just slapped his 2 favs together) 'its for the themes!!'#though the otherworlders showing up to haunt them both about their past around the same time frame really has me hooting and howling lol#i just think... if they could got written together in an event... they could work with each other really well.....#i have no ulterior motives of course of course : )
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this was a comment on one of my post from a recent live event. it was photos of joyful queer buckaroos celebrating together and proving love is real through creation, community, and a trot of love. most important I AM LITERALLY IN PHOTO AS A REAL FLESH AND BLOOD HUMAN
it got me thinking about how DEEP AND VICIOUS the irony poisoning of these early internet communities goes. the way buds like this cannot fathom someone just being a sincere person unrelated to their OWN old days of cynical posting. it is fascinating, and i will admit, sad too
despite a DECADE of work, countless live events, 350 tinglers written well before large language models were a thing, there are still people who cannot imagine someone like me could exist. it is a strange place to be. not just part of me, but my entire EXISTENCE is often gatekept
it is easy to say ‘well chuck your art IS strange’ but honestly i think it is more than that. magical realism is common. there are stories about dinosaurs and bigfeet and unicorns. this scoundrel reaction is about two unspoken things: my art is neurodivergent, and my art is queer
heres the thing: I WILL BE FINE. what concerns me is not an issue of MYSELF, it is a concern for the other young outsider buckaroos who see comments like this one and think ‘is that what they will say if i express MY unique way? will i be dehumanized like this at every turn?'
i will be honest, i cannot say that WONT happen, but i CAN say this: for as deep as this irony poisoning goes, it is slowly dying. the way i was treated at the start of my career is LIGHTYEARS DIFFERENT from the way i am treated now. there is a massive shift towards sincerity
BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY. to young artists trotting up, the things that i am harassed over and doubted for and made fun of for are NOT tangental to what has made me successful, THEY ARE LITERALLY THE SAME THINGS THAT HAVE MADE ME SUCCESSFUL. YES I AM STRANGE, WHAT OF IT?
the things that you tuck away for fear of a review that says ‘there is a PROBLEM with this art because it has always been done another way’ THOSE ARE YOUR SUPERPOWERS. the gatekeepers want you to tuck those parts of yourself away because THEY TUCKED AWAY THOSE PART OF THEMSELVES
never forget that your unique way is PURE UNFILTERED 100 PERCENT ROCKET FUEL. it will stick out (maybe, if you are lucky, scoundrels will even say that someone like you could never actually be real), but sticking out isnt so bad when you are waving the flag of love.
in fact, when youre waving the flag of love, sticking out is pretty dang cool. what are flags for, after all? LOVE IS REAL BUCKAROOS. thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this long post then please consider preordering BURY YOUR GAYS.
LETS TROT
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whispers ─── lee felix.
✰ notes : first of all i'd like to announce that i reached 3k friends here! thank you so much for that and i appreciate every single one of you! <33 anyway if you watched ABOUT TIME movie, you are already familiar with this scene because it's inspired by it. i just made a bit of changes and with felix in it so i hope you guys like it (this is not proofread btw) also, please DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after reading! thank you <33
✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji
masterlist | taglist.
felix went home a bit late that one saturday night after work. he had to see the movie he promised to watch with jeongin at the cinema. you bailed out after he invited you when he mentioned he got tickets and made a reason to sleep on a day off. he parted ways with jeongin around the block and walked home, alone.
it was cold, he could see the smoke coming out from his mouth as his hands shoved inside the pockets of his jacketーthe stars were illuminating the dark sky with a few clouds in sight but his eyes wandered around the streets. he was supposed to take the train back to your shared apartment but didn’t want to be disrupted by noisy passengers with loud music banging their ears from their earphones and he tried to take some time to think.
you’ve been dating for the past three years and it has been amazing. he never felt so happy and contented. the joy cannot be compared to any other things. it was that time when the two of you met at a diner just outside the office where you were working. the purpose was to grab dinner and go home then, this wonderful man showed up who had gotten the love at first sight experience. an opportunity came in and a conversation. he invited you to dates every weekend until the feelings got deeper after getting to know each other for weeks, made the relationship official with labels, and decided to live together.
for the past three years, it was magical as it made tons of memories that you and felix couldn’t write every single one of them in your journal. the polaroids that were taken are hanging on the walls of your room with dates written on each one of them. those plushies he won for you sat on the shelves, the books being piled up being read or untouched, the albums from your favorite artists being displayed on the table along with the music player and vinyl, the flowers on the vases, the letters and other gifts you’ve exchangedーit was sweet.
having this amazing relationship with felix is like reading a book without a synopsis or a summary from the covers or even the first pages. you don’t know what’s going to happen. it’s like living every day and there are things you cannot control. it’s either you read and go on with the story with curiosity and braveness or do not read the book at all and miss a series of events that could change your life. yet, you chose to read the book and the author created a love story you could ask for. it did change your life as well as felix’s but one thing’s for sure, there are a lot of trials on the way but it would start by holding your hands together to make a stronger bond, just like how chemical bonds create structures.
he went inside as quietly as possible as he didn’t want to ruin your slumber. the lights were switched off in the living room and only the entrance’s light censor made him see through the dark as he removed his shoes.
felix has thought of all the possibilities and the impossible, the rights and wrongs, the obstacles and smooth ways while walking. the consistency of this relationship must remain and be locked. he knew it wouldn’t be fancy but he promised himself that he’ll do it in a way that the two of you would prefer. and now, he’s here, looking at your sleeping figure being wrapped around that white duvet.
“baby,” he called softly as he shook your shoulder lightlyーkneeling down on the carpeted floor of your room.
“hmm?” you hummed in response. “five more minutes.” you muttered making him let out a soft chuckle.
“no, baby, wake up,” he said. “i have something important to ask,”
your eyes flutter open, from a blurry vision to a clear frame directed at his face. a smiley felix welcomed you as he caressed your hair when you were about to sit up.
“no, just lay down,” he said.
“okay,” you smiled. “what is it?” you asked, feeling relaxed on your soft mattress and the coziness of your pillow.
“you know that we’re happy, right?” he paused as you nodded in response. “i don’t know if it’s the movie i watched with jeongin that made me feel this way, it's always the romance genre that would hit me to reality and the thought that i always have you by my side—” he added when you put your index finger on his lips, hearing a piece of romantic music playing gently from the living room as it echoes through the open door of your room.
“is that romantic music?” you asked. “and you’re on your knees while saying something that i doubt is not just a love confession,” you added while fighting to stay awake which felix laughed shyly.
“yeah,” he said, licking his lower lip in embarrassment. “i am,”
“go on,” you smiled.
“will you marry me?” he asked which made your smile bigger and now you’re fully awake.
“i think,” you paused, clearing your throat. “i’m going to say, yes to that,” you added, looking at him in awe, saying; “and thank you for doing this that does not involve a lot of people and other crowds. i don’t like many people,”
felix smiled gently and placed a soft kiss on your lips before tracing his fingers on your cheeks, “i also don’t like people,” he said. “thank you for saying yes,” he whispered before leaning forward to kiss you again.
“i love you, darling,” you said in between.
“i love you more,” he answered. “get back to sleep, alright? i’ll join you in 10,”
“okay,” you said softly as he smiled, leaving a kiss on your forehead before exiting the room shushing han and seungmin for playing the instruments he asked for support outside.
©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
#neverendingdreams#stray kids#skz#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#felix imagines#felix lee#felix fluff#felix x reader#felix scenarios#skz felix#stray kids felix#yongbok#lee yongbok#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#skz reactions#skz x reader
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festival love || kim hongjoong
summary: you wait patiently for your soulmate to finish his practice rehearsal for the famous festival so you can go spend the day together before his performance. Things don't necessarily go as planned but everything turns out alright in the end.
pairing: kim hongjoong x disabled reader
genre: fluff, soulmate, soulmate au, soulbonds,
warnings: reader almost faints, POTS reader, disabled reader, not much
word count: 1.4k
masterlist
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You were beyond excited to be with the boys at Coachella. It was your first time at the festival, as well as theirs. Ateez would be performing at the Sahara stage, which is such a cool and amazing opportunity for them.
You were currently walking around the festival, waiting for Hongjoong to be done rehearsing so you could go explore the city a little bit. You had found on twitter with Wooyoung that there were some pop-ups and fan made events for the boys and you wanted to drag along your soulmate to see them while he had some free time.
You and Hongjoong hadn’t really gotten to enjoy a lot of time to yourselves since he has been so busy with rehearsing and practicing for the Coachella stage and then for their tour they’ve yet to announce.
You had been wandering around for a little over an hour and knew that you should be making your way back to the stage, but you kept getting stopped by atiny who recognized you. It was always fun getting to know your fellow atiny and talking to them about the boys. However sometimes you felt a little overstimulated. You could tell the heat was getting to you and your heart rate was just continuing to skyrocket.
You tried to make it back to the stage as quick as you could but eventually you had to try and find somewhere to sit so you could rest for a few. You didn’t want to do that though, not when you could see the stage so close. You pushed yourself and made it to the stage, showing security your pass so you could get through.
Once you made it through, you sat down right on the steps to the stage, laying your head back. You could hear footsteps from the stage coming closer and soon enough the boys’ manager is in your line of sight.
“Are you okay? Do you need water? How about salt?” Their manager was well aware, as were the rest of the team, about your heart condition. And even though you felt a little embarrassed about your condition, you knew that if you lied and said you were okay, that you would hear it from Hongjoong later.
“I think I just need some water for now.” Just from sitting down your heartrate was going down and you didn’t feel the palpitations in your head anymore.
The manager went and grabbed Hongjoong’s water bottle for you, catching the attention of your soulmate. You ignored his looks though, knowing he needed to finish this last rehearsal before tonight. It was your own fault for not preparing for the heat better.
You could feel the stares from the boys as they finished up their rehearsal. They were all worried, knowing how bad the heat exasperates your symptoms, and how worried their captain was getting.
Once they were done, Hongjoong was already making his way towards you, worry written clearly across his face as he comes and sits down with you, pulling you into his lap.
“Are you okay, baby? What happened?” He asks, tilting your chin so you were facing him.
“I’m fine Joong. I just got a little overheated, I promise.” You try to reassure your soulmate but he sees right through it. You lean forward, kissing him softly, trying to show him that you were okay now.
“I promise. See, look.” You show him your watch, clearly indicating your heartrate as normal. It does work a little in reassuring him, his shoulders visibly relaxing at your words.
“Okay, but next time, take one of the team with you, and a water bottle, and one of your mini fans please.” He practically commands you, but you know it’s out of love and worry for you.
“Now, what plans did you conspire with Wooyoung earlier, hmm?” Hongjoong narrows his eyes at you as a grin grows on your lips.
He had to admit, you and Wooyoung were a duo he was scared of. You two could be mischievous and you come up with the craziest schemes together. Like the time you both pranked him and put mint chocolate chip ice cream in the middle of the cake you surprised him with one day.
“Nothing, we just found a lot of pop-ups and little events for the group that I thought it would be fun to go to. Plus, I haven’t had In-N-Out in soooo long.” You told him the truth, despite the obvious suspicion lacing his expression. You knew he would go along with it anyways though, for he would do anything for you.
Your words brought him back to when he first found you, ironically in line while at the famous burger joint when he was last in the states for their tour. He turned around and bumped into you, your soulmarks burning and turning gold at the physical touch.
You spent the rest of the day and night getting to know your new soulmate and his group members while trying not to absolutely freak out at meeting your favorite kpop group.
“Okay, baby. Let’s go back to the hotel and wash up and then we can go out.” He picks you up and puts you down next to him so he could help you stand up slowly, not wanting to chance your heartrate skyrocketing again or even fainting.
He holds your hand as you walk behind the stage and out to where the vans were, getting in with Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Jongho. They all asked how you were and made sure you were all okay before changing the topic. They all knew about your condition and knew how embarrassed you could get over it.
Once you returned to the hotel, you were both in and out within an hour, making sure you had everything you needed to have a comfortable rest of the day before you needed to be back to the festival later tonight. You also packed extra hydration packets and your trusty reusable water bottle filled with ice.
While you were going to go to some of the fan events nearby, you were heavily advised by the security team and the boys’ manager not to go. It was a little disappointing, but you knew it was a safety concern.
So instead, Hongjoong had one of the security team take you both to In-N-Out and then to a park close to the hotel. Your little picnic in the park was really sweet and it was a much needed time together as soulmates during such a busy time for the boys.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t go to those fan events, baby.” Hongjoong told you after he tried to feed you a fry smothered in ketchup, effectively getting some on your cheek and making you laugh.
“It’s okay. Sometimes I forget that you are so famous. To me, your just Hongjoong who likes to cuddle and watch reality television with me. You’re my soulmate and sometimes I do have to step back and remember who you are to the world.” You confide in Hongjoong, knowing it’s better to get things out than to hold them in, especially when he knows you so well.
“I will always be your Hongjoong that loves to hold you in my arms and take care of you. Maybe next time, we let our manager know and we can plan a visit with security to one of those events.” Hongjoong moves forward to hold your hand in his, a soft gesture that he’s done since you met when he wants to feel you close.
You love the way he thinks, trying to do whatever he can so you still feel important to him despite his job and his schedule. He knows sometimes it gets hard trying to juggle everything, but he will always be there to remind you that you are the most important thing to him, and how you feel is his number one thought.
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Joong.” He leans in and kisses you softly, so sweetly that your lips tingle as he pulls away, a loopy smile on your lips, matching the one on his.
“Now,” He begins to clean up the trash form your late lunch. “Let’s get back to the hotel so we can go to our stage!” He exclaims in excitement, causing you to laugh at how giddy he gets every time he has to perform.
You love it and you love him.
#kim hongjoong#hongjoong imagines#ateez hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#hongjoong#ateez x reader#ateez x disabled reader#ateez hongjoong x reader#hongjoong x disabled reader#bluemari23#fluff#ateez headcanons#ateez imagines
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Wow! As the header says, my blog just went past 5k followers - I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who hopped on for this journey; I'm having the time of my life sharing my writing with you all.
In celebration and as a way to have a little fun - I'll be opening my inbox for a day and letting those who want to send in something fill it up!
Now, I know you're probably asking yourself 'Hal, I thought you said requests are going to be closed so you can finish the ones you have and work on the AUs?' And you'd be correct - I did say that. I'm not going to be writing full-length works for this event.
To anyone who sends something in (and follows the rules I have in place on my Request Form (be sure to check it even if you've already read it, I added some more characters and other stuff)) I'll be writing one-to-two page drabbles!
All this being said, after this post is uploaded I'll be opening my inbox up to anyone who would want to participate and closing it exactly one day after!
Thank you again for being the best community ever - I'm incredibly lucky to be surrounded by kind and respectful individuals as well as mutuals who are mind-numbingly sweet. I could not have achieved all of this without you; I think that's beautiful.
This post will also serve as the Masterlist for all of the expected drabbles, so if you'd like to keep updated on what's going to be happening/being written soon, this would be a good place to hang out!
ALL COMPLETED AS OF 11/5/2023
IMAGES USED: A black retriever in an extensive mountainous landscape by Maud Earl & L'angelo, la morte e il diavolo by Roberto Ferri || TOTAL: 5
➣The Perfect One
╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞
➣Get In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Coming home with bruises and stitched wounds, you drag him into the bathroom to wash away the memories.] ❞
➣Hum Me A Tune, Blue-Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [You listen to his heartbeat as he keeps you to his chest, his breath tickling your hair.] ❞
➣Here Now
╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞
➣Burst Veins
╰┈➤ ❝ [He never noticed you weren't behind him.] ❞
IMAGES USED: Fallen Angel by Roberto Ferri & Nature of Fear by Nicola Samori || TOTAL: 5
➣Nervous Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [No one understands how you two get along - not when you're so different. It makes you second-guess yourself. He notices.] ❞
➣Blood Like Obsidian
╰┈➤ ❝ [Simon can only fight against so many nurses as they shove him back from your operation room.] ❞
➣Supposed To Happen
╰┈➤ ❝ [You died and left him a child he had no idea existed. How can he even begin to try and understand?] ❞
➣Digging Gaze
╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞
➣Sole Survivor
╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞
IMAGES USED: White and Black by Vadim Gorbatov & Saint Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne || TOTAL: 7
➣Didn't Mean It
╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞
➣Him, Her, and the Dog
╰┈➤ ❝ [The woes of pining after a woman whose deadly K9 looks like it hates his guts.] ❞
➣Drunken Sappiness
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can't say you've ever had a boyfriend as perfect as Kyle.] ❞
➣How Do You Listen To That?
╰┈➤ ❝ [It was three a.m. when you all got the call to load up, but what's the best way to wake both yourself and the Sergeant up?] ❞
➣Finally Broken
╰┈➤ ❝ [Childhood friends turned lovers. The realization was far more violent and instantaneous than you'd like to admit.] ❞
➣Don't Look At Her
╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞
➣In His Head
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of his SFW and NSFW quirks.] ❞
IMAGES USED: Scene from the Great Flood by Joseph-Désiré Court & Saint Jerome in Prayer by Carlo Dolci || TOTAL: 7
➣Life Snaps By In Flashes
╰┈➤ ❝ [A collection of memories from the second he laid eyes on you. All flashing past in the soft buzzing of the overhead lights.] ❞
➣Heart-Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [Being a medic wasn't pretty, but when your boyfriend was the subject under your needle you can't help but enjoy his unwavering gaze. Today, he has something to share with you.] ❞
➣From Ten To Twenty & Beyond
╰┈➤ ❝ [You've known him ever since the incident on the playground, and now you can't help but imagine that same boy as you watch him make supper with flour in his hair.] ❞
➣Find Me
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞
➣Still The Same Fools
╰┈➤ ❝ [There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.] ❞
➣Is This Why?
╰┈➤ ❝ [He finally sees why you never introduced him to your parents.] ❞
➣Oblivious Pining
╰┈➤ ❝ [Johnny hangs off you like a silent beast. Not that you would notice, of course.] ❞
IMAGES USED: King Gustav III of Sweden and His Brothers by Alexander Roslin & Geography lesson by Eduard Karl Gustav Lebrecht Pistorius || TOTAL: 6
KEEGAN P. RUSS:
➣Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞
➣Hold Her Close
╰┈➤ ❝ [Keegan cares for his young daughter.] ❞
➣When The Fighting Stops & The Silence Sets In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Continuation of (Don't) Go To War: the aftermath of recovery and a budding relationship.] ❞
➣Movies and Stale Popcorn
╰┈➤ ❝ [Oak and Keegan finally get to watch that movie.] ❞
DAVID 'HESH' WALKER:
➣To The Boy of My Childhood
╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞
➣Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home
╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞
IMAGES USED: Saint Catherine of Alexandria by Caravaggio & Amor Vincit Omnia by Caravaggio || TOTAL: 17
CAPTAIN JOHN 'SOAP' MACTAVISH:
➣New Paint
╰┈➤ ❝ [Fighting to forget you, MacTavish finds comfort in whoever he can. Yet, like the layers of paint on the walls, it always peels back to you.] ❞
➣A Song of Gnashing Teeth
╰┈➤ ❝ [There was never a day where the two of you weren't butting heads - everyone was at their wit's end. Of course, you would both be forced to cooperate at some point.] ❞
➣Listen To My Voice
╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞
➣Look At The Stars; Look At Me
╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞
➣Alive and Breathing
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're sick. Very sick. John takes drastic action.] ❞
➣I Can See It In Your Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [It's finally time to meet the family.] ❞
➣A Green-Eyed Monster
╰┈➤ ❝ [You'd slept together, sure. No strings attached. Then why are you trying to make him jealous? Who cares, the point is that it's working.] ❞
SERGEANT GARY 'ROACH' SANDERSON:
➣Dance With Me Before The Chill Sets In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Tired? Yes, but he's never too tired for you and your loveliness. But maybe you need to remember to lock the door when you're home alone.] ❞
➣Raining Cats and Dogs
╰┈➤ ❝ [Roach has a deep love of storms.] ❞
OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KELLER:
➣Bright-Eyed History Lesson
╰┈➤ ❝ [A librarian with a fascination for war history and a soldier who loves how her eyes light up. Like a dog, he can't stop himself from coming back; smiling like a fool.] ❞
COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS:
➣Hold Me Longer
╰┈➤ ❝ [Mornings spent in the sanctity of warm sunlight and bare skin.] ❞
SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO 'RUDY' PARRA:
➣A Love Like Ours Makes Us Strong
╰┈➤ ❝ [Rodolfo came back, alive but bruised. How do you explain how terrified you were?] ❞
COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES:
➣Sleeping On The Porch
╰┈➤ ❝ [As it turns out, your husband never really died. It's safe to say you're not overjoyed.] ❞
➣Love Echoes In Silence
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞
SEBASTIAN JOSEF KRUEGER:
➣Ain't Giving Up My Pride
╰┈➤ ❝ [You get on his nerves, partially because you want to. But what happens when he finally snaps?] ❞
ALL 141 INCLUDED (SEPARATE):
➣Count The Hours
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of what the One-Four-One do on their down-hours with their Lovers] ❞
➣Wide-Eyed Panic
╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞
#halcyone updates#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod x female reader#5k celebration#cod masterlist
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TRAINING SEASON — Jensen Ackles
Summary: After a tumultuous relationship and a hard break up, you get trapped in between your co-star and a casual one night stand. But there's nothing you regret about.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x female reader, actress!reader.
Word count: 1,076.
Warnings: implied sex like the morning-after-sex, nudity, some sexy time but no full smut, friends to lovers, language, idk just wrote this quickly.
Notes: AU where Jensen is obviously single, and reader is like 38 in my head don't asky why I like this number, I still have no idea. And I just love, and I mean, loooveeee getting obsessed with hot men over 40, can you tell?
>> disclaimer: i totally respect the private lifes of the actors and celebrities i use for my fanfictions, and of course their personal relationships. this is only fiction written for fun and nothing more.
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
Opening your eyes, you stirred on the soft bed and noticed your sorroundings. This wasn't your hotel room. Your bare body hidden under the blank, messy bed sheets reminded you of yesterday's events. You smiled.
The other side of the bed was warm. His body pressing against yours felt perfect, and you wrapped your hand on his own, which was laying on your waist, like if he didn't want to let go of you. Your mind started remembering his touch on your skin, the way he would kiss every inch of your stomach, the trail of kisses he left all over you, and his love bites around your neck and chest. The burning between your thighs and the soreness let you notice it was as good as you imagined it to be, even before it happened.
"Whatcha thinking?" he asked, raspy and soft voice booming in your ears.
"Mmm... Nothing, just how great you felt last night," you teased, turning your head to see his face directly. Bare skin, disheveled hair, and tired but loving eyes met you. God, he was beautiful. He looked so fucked out in the best way possible one could describe it.
Jensen chuckled and kissed your cheek. Still, he never let go his embrace on you. He looked at you vividly for a long time, scanning every feature of your face, like he wanted to save all of you in just an instant. Your brows furrowed for a moment.
"What?" you whispered.
"We didn't fuck this up, did we?"
A sigh left your lips, your hand ran on his hair softly. You knew what he meant. You had a bad relationship and an even worse break up months before you started working together, and Jensen became a great friend as you tried to overcome it. And it was so hard not to fall for him when it felt like you knew each other for decades. He was someone you could trust your deepest secrets, pain and thoughts. A part of you did not want to cry on his shoulder for days once you got comfortable around him, nor letting him know how terrible you felt at the time. But he never judged you. He just was there, listening and offering a helping hand expecting nothing back.
But your feelings changed in the course. As months went by, an amazing, caring and loving friendship bloomed between both of you. Since the project was a long new TV series, you used to spend a huge amount of time together as your characters appeared to be in a slow building relationship. And now, the premiere was done, but the press tour barely started, so that meant you were not getting away from each other in a good time now.
"No," you finally answered. "Of course no."
"I mean, I know what you been through, and I- I don't wanna ruin anything-"
"Jensen, is fine," you cut him off. His eyes locked on yours, concern washed all over his handsome face. "I am fine with this, are you?"
"Absolutely," he said. "I always was. I mean, I liked you for a long time now," he laughed a little, making you smile. One of his hands now carressing your bare thigh, feeling the heat of your skin.
Jensen leaned down and pecked your lips softly, his lips slowly found its way to your neck, kissing and biting the flesh, exactly how he did last night. He groaned, tasting the saltiness, and you let out a soft moan as he flipped you around. You laid on your back, him on top. His tongue tracing your skin, stopping right before your breats. God, you were getting wet again.
Unlucky for you, your phone started ringing, breaking the moment and Jensen, with a disappointed look on his face, gave you the space to run and answer. By the way you were talking, he figured it was your manager, so he hid behind the covers, admiring you from afar. When you ended the phone call, you walked to him. His eyes kept lusting over your naked figure as you looked for your clothes all over the room. He sadly knew you were postponing until you had enough alone time together.
"I keep forgetting we're still on press tour," you kissed his cheek softly once you put on your underwear and grabbed your clothes to get decent to leave. "I'll be going now, sorry."
"It's fine," Jensen smiled, standing up and putting up some pants. He followed you before you crossed the door. "I'll see you later tonight then, how about dinner?" he casually asked, leaning down. "And then we could probably take care of some other things," he whispered in your ear. You bit your lip, eager to know what he had in mind.
"That'll be amazing, surprise me!"
You gave him a playful wink, and taking your purse you left his room with a wide grin on your face. You were so glad you stopped dating trainees to build a relationship with. Jensen was a self-confident, expert man, and you were more than happy to give it a shot.
#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x female reader#jensen ackles imagines#jensen ackles imagine#jensen ackles x you#jensen ackles x y/n#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen ackles fic#supernatural#the boys#jensen ackles#i love you sir
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The Loved One (2/2)
[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, swearing, toxic behaviour and relations, manipulation, therapy ]
[ description: After the events of that night, Alys' sister tries to move on from what happened, proud that she didn't cause a tragedy. However, when it turns out that Alys' boyfriend has broken up with her the next day, her older sister becomes hysterical, and she wonders despairingly whether she was the reason of his decision. Lost, obsessive, distant, desperate Aemond. Anon request. ]
This is Part 2 of The Second One
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
_____
Even though weeks had passed since that bizarre night, she couldn't forget what had happened. It didn't help that the next day her older sister called their mother crying, saying that this shithead had dared to leave her, to walk away after all she had endured for him.
She stared with big eyes at the pancakes lying on the plate in front of her feeling the cold sweat on her neck and the rapid pounding of her heart, listening to her mother's puzzled questions trying to calm her down, saying in a trembling voice that maybe it would be better this way, that after all they were still fighting.
Alys seemed to have forgotten everything that happened between them and what he had said to her the day before, she felt tears under her eyelids hearing her sobbing, her helpless confession that she loved him and didn't want to live without him.
She felt his hand between her thighs, his tongue deep in her throat.
She was ashamed that she had barely held back, that she had refused him with difficulty, that some part of her wanted him to stay.
To fuck her.
She swallowed loudly, feeling herself shudder at the memory of the piece of paper he had slipped under her door and what was written on it.
I wish I had met you before her.
She felt a kind of discomfort at the thought of being possessed by some kind of terror and satisfaction, because she was bonded with him by a secret that no one knew about but them.
A moment later, however, she recalled how awful things he had said about Alys, how objectively he had treated her, and that he would have done exactly the same with her if she had not regained her sobriety of mind in time.
She has big tits and a big ass.
She sucks cock well.
She shook her head, feeling that it made her sick to her stomach at the thought, and got up from the table, unable and unwilling to listen to it, recognising that her sister was right.
They were made for each other.
To her despair, Alys came to their house again later that day, but paying no attention to her, directing her despair and pain towards their mother, telling her that he wasn't taking her calls, that he had blocked her number, that he had simply texted her briefly and that was it.
"How could he do this, so many years, we've been through so much together and he breaks up with me over a fucking text message? Like a fucking kid, no conversation, no explanation?" She heard her mumbling coming from the living room and their mother's voice trying to reassure her, she stood in the dark hallway of their house, eavesdropping involuntarily, thinking with some kind of amusement that it was obvious he had ended it that way.
She shuddered when she heard her name and the fact that her sister had stood up, she ran quickly upstairs, fearing that the subject of their argument and what she had accused him of would now cause her to lash out at her.
True to her intuition, Alys knocked on the door to her room after a while, her mother tried to calm her down but she interrupted her saying that she just wanted to talk, that it was possible she knew of something more.
They stepped inside, her older sister grunting as she tried to quiet herself down, wiping her smudged make-up with her fingers, her face red from tears.
"I'm sorry for his inappropriate behaviour yesterday, he kept staring at you, too sure to get me off balance. Did he bother you after I left?" She asked, putting her hands in front of her, as if this question was a formality for her.
Something in the way she said it, in her conviction that it all revolved around her, that she was asking it not because she was worried about her but because she wanted to prove something to herself made any sympathy and remorse she had felt a moment before disappear.
She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don’t know how to dress well, don’t know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there’s nothing to talk to you about because you can’t converse about anything interesting.
She recognised that she had acted appropriately, she had cut whatever was going on in time and told him to leave, so she didn't feel the need to admit anything.
"He wanted to talk to me about Gombrowicz, presumably so that I would repeat it to you later and to arouse your jealousy. I told him to leave and that's what he did." She replied softly so that her words were not a complete lie, her sister pressed her lips together, clearly displeased by her statement, her nostrils quivering in uncertainty and rage.
"Is that all? He didn't want anything else?" She asked coolly, and she raised her eyebrows and laughed dryly, recognising that for some reason all this amused her, the thought that her little sister about whom she had said such things might have taken away something that belonged to her.
She had no such intention.
Take him, she thought.
You're both sick.
"Me? Please. I told him clearly not to involve me in your affairs and use me against you." She said indifferently, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that her sister had turned purple, she swallowed loudly as if she was afraid of what she was about to hear.
"What did he say to you?" She asked in a trembling voice forcing herself to be calm, from which she felt a thrill of satisfaction.
"A lot of things. For example, what you say about me. What a caring, good sister you are. How much you worry about me, with what tenderness you think of me." She replied while playing with the pencil lying on her desk, not even looking at her, feeling the awkward silence that had fallen around them.
"I…after all, you know that I would never say anything in bad faith. I get upset with you sometimes, like any sister, I don't understand you, it's true, but I love you, you know that. God, that fucking liar and manipulator!" She growled helplessly, fiddling with her necklace between her fingers in a nervous gesture, looking pleadingly at their mother as if hoping for her support in the matter.
"If he's a liar and a manipulator, why do you want to be with him?" She asked tiredly and impatiently, no longer feeling anything but grief and disapproval.
"That's how we are, both of us…like fire, we argue and come back, it's always been that way." She muttered, and she swallowed hard, thinking with relief that the fact that she had refused him was the wisest decision of her life.
"Do what you want, don't get me involved. Leave." She said dryly, taking a book from her shelf, Trans-Atlantyk by Witold Gombrowicz.
Alys left her room, clearly furious that the conversation hadn't gone according to her plan, that she couldn't go on playing the victim, the one innocent and perpetually abused.
She thought she wanted nothing to do with them.
A few weeks passed and she slowly began to forget about the situation even though Alys couldn't get over it, she knew she was now on some sleeping pills, immersed in utter despair.
She figured that sooner or later she would find someone else, she just prayed that he wouldn't change his mind and come back to her, because she didn't know how she would bear the sight of him in her house.
However, something happened that she had not expected at all.
One evening she received a message from an unknown number.
She opened it and frowned after she read its contents.
She felt her heart start pounding like crazy, a cold sweat on the back of her neck, she covered her mouth with her hand, terrified, wondering where he had got her number, what was she supposed to do now.
Block it and delete it? Threaten him with telling Alys and her mother everything?
She was afraid of what he was capable of, that he might start talking about the fact that she had let him stay with her after all, that something more than a kiss had happened.
She swallowed loudly as she looked at her screen and slowly typed out a reply on her phone's keypad.
She sent it, clenching her eyes, thinking with despair that her answer was too aggressive, that it would surely enrage him, that she would regret all that had happened, her stupid moment of weakness.
She shuddered when, a moment later, her display lit up again and she opened the message from him with her heart beating fast.
She looked at what he'd written without knowing for herself what she felt, her throat squeezed so tightly that she had trouble breathing. She jumped when the messages began to appear one after another.
She read everything he wrote with an expression of disbelief, completely shocked by this sudden externalisation. She felt her heart squeeze, her body trembling in horror at the fact that he was trying to play with her again, unwittingly giving her what she wanted.
She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, angry at herself for letting him do this to her, telling her what she wanted to hear, putting himself in the role of a disappointed and disillusioned man who needed comforting.
He knew she longed to be appreciated, to be important to someone, to be the only one, to do something her sister had failed to do.
To fix him.
He was giving her himself on a plate, distraught, seeking comfort and refuge, an opportunity for her to prove herself, to show to herself that she was better, more tender, smarter than her sister.
She felt tears of helplessness and humiliation gathering at the corners of her eyes, and swallowed loudly, typing out a message on her phone.
She sent the message and breathed out loud, covering her face with her hands, wondering in pain why he was doing this to her, why he was being so cruel.
Did he want to prove something to himself, to stab her sister in the back with her help?
She shuddered when she heard her phone vibrate and unlocked it quickly, her lips dry with stress.
She didn't know why she burst into sobs after reading his message, why she felt so sad, embittered and humiliated.
I wish I had met you before her.
Why was he doing this to her?
Why was he messing with her head?
For some reason, because of everything she had read, she felt even worse, the pain that ripped through her heart seemed unbearable.
Some part of her wanted to believe him.
She had trouble sleeping, going back to what he had written again and again, once wanting to block him, then immediately deciding that there was no need, that he had clearly given her peace.
She knew she should forget about him, but she couldn't.
Therefore, she tried to concentrate on her studies, her classes filling her entire days, she even took extra lessons, wanting to be away from home in the evenings as well.
Walking through the large, neo-Gothic hall, she came across a poster hanging on the notice board, announcing open lectures taking place every week on Thursday at 7pm, on the works of Orwell, Kafka, Dostoyevsky and Gombrowicz, entitled 'The Fall of the World'.
She thought the whole thing sounded extremely tempting, and as she loved all these writers, she decided to attend at least once.
The lecture was held in a library that anyone could enter, to make things easier for outside listeners, when she went inside most of the seats at the tables were already taken.
She stopped in mid-step, wanting to back away, but it was too late; the tall, well-built figure of a blond-haired man sitting in one of the chairs turned towards her involuntarily, his gaze expressing shock.
"Miss Rivers, welcome! Please, take a seat." Professor Moore, the same one who had lectured to her year on twentieth-century world literature, spoke to her.
She nodded, horrified that it would be at least odd if she left now, so she sat down in one of the empty seats trying not to look at the sinister, inscrutable man sitting a few seats away.
She felt ashamed that some part of her was glad to see him, as if she hoped to meet him again.
"Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is an extremely heavy read, filled with metaphors, and yet, the author foretold something in it, perfectly describing what communism led to, the fear of surveillance and propaganda, the feeling that everyone is an informer, that no one can be trusted, can be observed in a large part of contemporary Russian citizens. Cut off from non-state information sources, from certain parts of the internet, they live in the conviction that their country cares about them, that the security services are following them and spying on them for their own good. Some even firmly believe that this is for the best. Don't you think it's frightening that something Orwell predicted actually happened, on top of it earlier than he thought?" Asked her professor, she raised her hand, recognising that if she allowed herself to be drawn into the discussion, she would stop thinking about the man who sat a few chairs away.
He let her speak with a nod.
"Orwell wrote this book in 1945, already knowing what Nazism and Communism were. He did not understand how Western Europe could have agreed to recognise Stalin as one of the victors and lead, as a result, to the so-called Iron Curtain in later years. This book was his warning, his sense that we had crossed some line of dehumanisation after Auschwitz that had never happened before in the world." She said on one exhale, a second person, an older man also raised his hand.
"He may have known, but he also felt under his skin that it would not end with communism and Nazism. And he was right. The place of these groupings is being taken by others, just as threatening, also talking about the rights of the nation or the equality of all. We forget that Hitler and Lenin also originally floated on fine words." Said the man, several people nodded their heads in agreement. She shuddered when she heard another voice, familiar to her, speak up without permission, impatient.
"Orwell was not an idiot. If he had wanted to deal with the problem of the rise of political sects, he would have started with that, but he places the plot in the course of events when the state is completely subordinated to the apparatus of power. We hope for a happy ending, a complete victory, but Orwell recognises that there was no such thing after the Second World War. Nuremberg held Germany to account, but not Russia or Japan. Nowadays we don't even talk about their crimes, we delight in their culture and history forgetting whose side they were on, often committing far worse crimes than Hitler."
He said coldly, she was surprised by how accurate this observation was, she looked at him involuntarily, he was sitting with his profile to her, his jaw clenched, the fingers of his hand stretched out on the tabletop moving restlessly, playing with the pen that lay before him.
He glanced at her, as if to see how she would react to his words, to his voice, and momentarily dropped his gaze, as if embarrassed, caught off guard.
"Each of these three comments is exceptionally apt. The anxiety that Orwell arouses accompanies us in our daily lives right up to the present day, and somehow he has managed to create a vision of a universal totalitarian system that suits every one that has been mentioned. Let us now turn to the specific chapters…"
They passed the rest of the lecture discussing whether there really was any resistance movement at all, or whether it was just a contrived idea used to catch would-be rebels and break their will even before they could really stand up to anyone.
Somehow the conversation about the book had put her in a depressed, gloomy state; when the professor thanked them and said they were seeing each other next week she wasn't sure she'd come a second time.
Even more so if she was to see him during them.
They were open lectures and he had a right to be there, but she was already tired.
She heard his footsteps behind her and knew it was him when she felt his large hand grab her gently by her shoulder.
"Wait. I'm sorry. I really didn't know you were coming −"
"− I know. You have nothing to apologise for." She said softly, wanting to pull away from him, but he didn't let her go, even though she wasn't looking at him she could feel his burning gaze, his heat, his raspy breath on her cheek.
"− promise you'll come next week − that you won't give up because of me −" He said in a low voice, she felt embarrassment and a squeeze in her throat at the thought that she wasn't sure if he meant that he didn't want her to give up her interests because of him, or that he was hoping to see her again.
"− I don't know yet −" She replied in a shaky, tired voice, feeling that her heart was pounding like crazy, for some reason she felt tears burning under her eyelids, at the same time she wanted him to give her peace and not to do it, something in his darkness, in his unpredictability attracted her.
She thought with despair that perhaps it was the same thing that kept Alys from forgetting him.
He grunted and let her go, clearly sensing that he had held her for too long, an awkward silence full of tension fell between them.
"I'm not going to lie. I was hoping to see you here." He murmured lowly, lowering his gaze, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers, the black turtleneck he wore perfectly framing his well-built, broad chest.
She pressed her lips together at his words, adjusting the straps of her backpack hanging over her shoulders in an involuntary, nervous gesture, unsure what she was supposed to respond to such a confession, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that for some reason he didn't want to forget her.
"Why are you doing this? What else do you want from me?" She asked embittered, looking up at him at last, he lifted his gaze to her, fear, desperation and shame in his eyes.
He swallowed loudly, as if he didn't know what he should answer, looking at her in silence.
"I missed you." He muttered quietly, embarrassed like a small child, she shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.
"What?"
"I missed you. The way I felt back then."
"For God's sake, we only spoke once, what do you miss? The adrenaline that was bubbling inside you at the thought that maybe I'd be naive enough to let you fuck me? I let you into my room, into my life only for you to humiliate me. You are a cruel man."
She mumbled out while bursting into a loud, uncontrollable sob, covering her face with her hand, she heard in disbelief that his reaction to her words was identical, he embraced her and pulled her close, hugging her to his chest and although she wanted to push him away, she couldn't.
"− I didn't mean to hurt you − I swear I really just wanted to talk, I couldn't sleep, I was angry − what happened next −" He mumbled out, his voice stuck in his throat, he drew in a sudden, shaky breath of air, swallowing loudly.
"− I just − I don't know, I have no idea what came over me, I never cheated on her, I swear − I swear −" He babbled, both of them crying loudly, her hands rose higher and tightened on his back, she felt both pain and relief at the thought that he was as embarrassed and heartbroken as she was.
"− can we start again? − as if we had never met? −" He asked pleadingly and she, not knowing why, nodded, thinking she wanted to leave it all far, far behind.
Although they both calmed down after a moment, they still lingered in each other's embrace, a pleasant shiver running down her spine as she felt his large hand stroking her hair and back with a calm gesture full of care, her face snuggled into his warm chest, her nostrils filled with his masculine scent.
She shuddered and swallowed loudly as his lips placed a drawn-out, hot kiss on the top of her head, her breath caught in her throat when she felt something pulsate hard in his trousers.
They pulled away from each other, wiping their faces, both pretending nothing had happened, he breathed out loud, combing his hair in a light, careless gesture, his cheeks red with emotion.
"− see you −" He muttered, and although she knew she shouldn't, she showed up for the next lecture.
And then the next and the next.
Each time he sat down next to her, close, too close, his legs splayed comfortably making his knee pressed against hers, but she didn't move away, herself getting something out of the situation that she couldn't name.
Her sister had told her mother on the phone that she had moved on, that she wasn't going to trouble herself with this bastard, told her about their endless arguments, about how he would raise his voice and throw things, leave in the middle of a conversation slamming the door, about how he always acted like a spoilt little child when he didn't get what he wanted.
She knew that she was leaving out of these arguments what she herself had said and done in an obvious attempt to create a narrative of his one-sided aggression, however, despite being malicious and ironic, she was struck by how completely different his view of the whole thing was.
Sometimes the two of them would buy warm tea from the vending machine and spend spring evenings in the university park sitting on the grass on his leather jacket, just talking, since they had both cried and cuddled he had not tried to touch her or otherwise invade her personal space.
"My family has always been involved in the modeling industry. Big money, big banquets, fashion shows in Paris and Venice. I always despised it, but what could be done? My father expected me and my siblings to take over his inheritance, on top of which his daughter from his first marriage was fighting for a bigger share than she was originally entitled to. It was some kind of nightmare." He muttered, taking a sip of the hot liquid from a small cardboard cup, looking somewhere ahead with a blank stare, the sun was setting behind the beautiful neo-Gothic red brick buildings.
"To be honest, it never interested me. I was into art, but not this half-world. When I met your sister I liked the fact that she was going after what she wanted. Of course, she wasn't the first chick to want to go to bed with me for the obvious benefits, but her impudence was downright endearing in a way. Only later did I realise that it was impudence mixed with calculating. But we were both too proud to let go, to be the weak link."
He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, finally looking at her with the same tired, resigned eyes she had seen for weeks, she couldn't tell if what he was saying and showing her was the truth or just his game.
But who would want to pretend for so long?
He lowered his gaze, scratching his cheek with his thumb, seeing in her eyes that she remained wary of him, that she did not trust him.
She herself didn't know why she had allowed him to spend time together, only to find with sadness that some part of her wanted to understand him.
"I'm afraid you won't be able to undo what's happened inside your head without the help of a professional." She said softly, looking down at the cup she held between her hands on her thighs, she heard him swallow hard, she knew this topic was not comfortable for him.
"Will you come with me? If I make an appointment." He muttered in a low, hoarse voice, she looked at him in disbelief feeling a tightness in her throat, once again surprised by his behaviour and his words.
"If you really do it, I'll go with you." She said quietly, feeling a sense of discomfort, knowing she shouldn't do it, on the other hand realising that her mother had made sure Alys visited the psychiatrist at least a few times, and he needed it just as badly.
She did not believe that he would do so, recognising that this was part of his plan to soften her up.
Nevertheless, after a few days she received a message from him with the address of the doctor's office and the time of the appointment.
She turned up at the place indicated, lying to her mother that she had gone to the University Library, the office of the man he had mentioned was in fact in the suburbs, and next to the door to the building was a nameplate with his profession.
A few minutes before the time he pulled up in a big, shiny black SUV, dressed in a black tight T-shirt tucked into black trousers, a watch on his wrist, when he got out he looked stressed and unhappy, she knew he really didn't want to do that.
He lit a quick cigarette even though he only had a few minutes left before his visit and she thought he would cowardly tell her that he didn't feel like it after all, that he didn't have to do it, that he was already feeling better.
"Is it really necessary? Externalising myself to some fucking asshole for my money?" He asked coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette with a quiet hiss, she looked at him feeling a squeeze in her chest, tears of regret under her eyelids at the thought that she had spent so much of her time and effort on him only to realise that he was exactly as she had imagined him to be.
Seeing the look on her face he swallowed loudly and lowered his gaze to his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of the hand in which he held the cigarette in a nervous gesture, she had the impression that his body was quivering.
"− I'm sorry − thank you, little one − if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have come here at all −" He muttered low, taking a quick drag a few times, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on a bin standing nearby, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.
He startled her when he stepped inside, so she moved behind him, both of them heading up the steps past the signs straight into the cabinet. She watched as he sighed heavily and knocked, a middle-aged man who could have been their father opened the door for him after a moment.
"This is my friend I mentioned. I want her to be there when we talk." He said lowly, and she froze, looking at his back in disbelief as he stepped inside, convinced that he just wanted her to wait for him outside.
She lowered her gaze, horrified at the thought that he would be telling him his problems, his most intimate secrets in front of her, but she wasn't sure she could refuse when he had already taken such a big step forward.
The doctor smiled at her and, with a gesture of his hand, encouraged her to go inside, so she did, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa, the doctor sat opposite them.
"Please tell me what brings you to me."
He began, she stared at a flower in a pot standing at the other end of the office, feeling like an intruder, as if she was eavesdropping on someone's conversation and had no idea what she should do with herself.
"I tend to be verbally aggressive. I tend to get involved in toxic relationships with other toxic people and I'm like that myself."
She heard his low voice and swallowed loudly, somehow appreciating his self-criticism, the fact that he saw the problem holistically.
"Let's start with the first sentence. What do you think 'verbal aggression' means?"
"I know what to say to hurt someone. I know it, I do it on purpose and I get satisfaction from it."
"Please say something more about this feeling of satisfaction."
He remained silent for a moment, she heard him shrug his shoulders, impatient.
"The feeling of power."
"What do you feel after that, when the satisfaction passes?"
"Emptiness."
She looked at him uncertainly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of the dress covering her thighs, feeling that her whole body was tense, a cold sweat on her back.
"A lot of people get addicted to adrenaline. Also from arguments, aggression or violent sex. The lack of affection and security is filled with temporary emotions, and their absence causes similar symptoms to alcohol rehab. When you regain control you see yourself and the world as it is."
Said the doctor, she saw him just nod at his words, swallowing hard, looking at his hands, she saw with horror that he was picking at the cuticles around his nails creating tiny wounds.
He remained silent.
"You mentioned that you consider yourself a toxic person and get into a relationship with such people."
"Yes."
"Why do you judge yourself that way?"
The man asked, and he licked his lips in a quick impatient gesture.
"Because I am cruel to other people. Harsh and vicious."
"Please elaborate on that thought."
For the next half hour he talked about examples of his behaviour, how he despised models making a career out of bed, how deep down he loathed her sister and himself, the business he was forced to be stuck in, full of injustice and discrimination.
She listened to it feeling resentful towards him for deceiving her sister for so long, on the other hand hearing for the first time how Alys addressed him, what the beginning of their relationship was like.
"When I gave her what she wanted she was the sweetest, most submissive woman I knew. But if I didn't, she would turn into a screaming, spiteful creature telling me I was a cunt and a little child, so I didn't leave her hanging. What did she expect, that she would call me that and I wouldn't answer anything? That I didn't know she had nothing more to offer me than her body? What pissed me off about her wasn't that she lacked knowledge, it was that there was no curiosity about the world in her, that she didn't want to expand it, to understand more. Just fucking, partying and posing."
"But you still lasted in that relationship because, from what I understand, you were so comfortable. What changed?" The doctor asked, and she flinched as he glanced at her quickly, immediately looking away, swallowing loudly, terrified of what was about to leave his mouth.
"I think that I'm in love with someone."
She drew in air loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, her whole body breathless, she felt the heat in her lower abdomen, that embarrassing, sticky wetness.
She knew she shouldn't, but when he suggested after the visit that she go to his place, she agreed.
There was a kind of despair in the way he pressed her against the wall with a sudden motion as soon as the door closed behind them, the way his tongue forced its way between her lips with his groan of relief, the way, with quick and sure movements, his hands slid the material of her underwear off her, which she threw off her legs with an impatient flick.
She knew she shouldn't, but she felt nothing but delight as he knelt in front of her looking at her with wide eyes, he lifted the material of her dress over her thighs, throwing her hip over his shoulder, she tilted her head back with a soft moan as his lips began to brush and kiss her weeping folds.
"− we can't −" She muttered, but she knew she'd only said it to feel a little less regret that it was so pleasurable, that her fingers clenched on his short hair as he cupped her clit between his lips and began sucking on it, teasing her opening again and again with the tip of his tongue.
"− fuck − fuck −" She whimpered girlishly, moving her hips involuntarily in rhythm with his strokes, a loud murmur of delight erupting from his throat at how much she was leaking, the sound of it running in vibration through her entire body.
"− I could spend all day like this − would you like it? −" He gasped between teasing motions of his tongue pushing its way between her sticky muscles, hot with arousal, a moan bordering on a cry broke from her throat as he began to tease the spot hidden inside her from which his whole corridor seemed blurred to her.
"− stop −" She mumbled helplessly, panting loudly along with him, feeling his words deep inside her, her walls began to clench around nothing, he only grunted at her plea, stopping abruptly, rising from his knees, she settled again on both feet, feeling that her legs were trembling all over.
"− you can leave now, if you want − I won't stop you −" He breathed out, with a quick, sure movement of his fingers undoing the buckle from the belt of his trousers, she looked at him with her eyes wide open, feeling in her mind only that wonderful heat between her thighs.
"− be gentle − be gentle and don't mock me −" She muttered, and he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her close, their lips pressed together in an aggressive, sticky, loud kiss.
She squealed quietly as he lifted her easily, in an involuntary reflex she threw her arms around his neck, enclosing his waist between her legs, his mouth smelling of her wetness not pulling away for a moment as his one hand dealt with the material of his trousers and boxers.
The tips of his fingers ran over her cheek, his forehead pressed against hers as she felt the fat head of his cock push in between her folds, they both moaned low, surprised, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her thigh, forcing her to fit him deeper inside her.
"− fuck −" She whimpered, spreading her thighs wider, he looked down at her with eyes black with desire, his lips parted in a pathetic groan as her leaking walls let him all the way in.
"− god, little one − oh fuck −" He mumbled out with involuntary movements of his hips thrusting into her as deeply as possible, they both moaned into each other's mouths as his lips pressed against hers again, her hands ran over his hair and down the nape of his neck, answered by his loud murmur of pleasure.
"− I've waited so long for this − you were already wet for me then, weren't you? − you wanted it inside you −" He breathed out, speeding up, each stroke of his swollen cock teasing again and again the same spot he had squeezed with his tongue earlier, only a helpless moan of pleasure escaping from her chest, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud click of her moisture.
"− please − please, please, please −" She babbled between licks of their tongues and lips, his large hands clamped down on her ass, accelerating, the stabs of his hips opening her wide on his length again and again, her walls pulsing against him, sucking him inside.
"− oh, yes, that's it − gonna cum, baby? − gonna cum for me? −" He cooed rooting into her with his cock thick with lust, she nodded her head clenching her fingers in his hair, panting hard, and she leaned back with a sweet moan as her body shook with convulsions, her walls began to throb and clench against him in pleasure.
"− god, yes − little one − where −" He muttered, and she only managed to whimper for him to come inside her, thanking God for the existence of the pills, she heard his low groan of relief and pleasure, a few messy, greedy thrusts of his hips were enough to make him spill inside her, their bodies twitching and quivering, shocked at how intense this close-up was.
For a long moment they both merely panted and kissed lazily, his hands running over the bare, hot skin of her buttocks, her fingers stroking his hair with his quiet murmur of pleasure.
"− so good − so kind − so pretty −" He hummed between their kisses, stroking the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb, shame overwhelmed her at the thought that she felt butterflies in her stomach at his words.
She knew she shouldn't do this, but she let him take her once more on his bed, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again with each desperate thrust of his hips, their naked bodies entwined together in a tight embrace, sweaty and hot.
"− fuck − fuck −" He panted into her mouth between greedy, messy, loud kisses, his wonderful scent filling her entire lungs, her naked breasts pressed against his chest, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his back.
"− mghm − m close −" She mumbled out, her walls oversensitive after her earlier fulfilment, the tip of his swollen cock rubbing again and again the spot inside her from which she felt shivers and tickling, the heat in her lower abdomen unbearable.
"− come on, little one − give me one more − that's it, fuck! −" He gasped loudly and bit his lower lip, trying to stifle the low groan of pleasure that ripped from his throat as her fleshy muscles began to throb in orgasm, sucking him inside.
She tried to push him away, delicate and sore, quivering and writhing beneath him, but he accelerated, slamming into her for a moment more with sure, deep thrusts.
"− I know, baby, just a moment longer − shhh −" He mumbled out before he reached his peak inside her for the second time, a soft, loud sigh of relief and delight escaping his lips.
He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair, panting heavily along with her, their skin sticky from sweat and exertion, their hands trailing blindly over their naked bodies, wanting to remember and take everything possible from this moment.
"− stay with me, little one − please, stay with me −" He whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion, with the feeling that she was going to try again to escape him, what he wanted and what it all meant.
She swallowed quietly and combed her fingers through his hair, looking up at the ceiling with slightly parted lips, breathing loudly, her body at once relaxed from another fulfilment and tense, filled with uncertainty and fear.
He could feel her hesitation, when he heard no response from her he lifted himself slowly on his arms, wanting to look at her face.
"− what I told that doctor is true − I want to change − want to be a person worth loving − I know I screwed up then −" He whispered, stroking her cheek with his large hand, she looked away, feeling her own body tremble, his thumb ran over her soft skin.
"− do you know what the real tragedy of this situation is? − that some part of me reciprocates your feelings − but I don't know how I could ever really trust you −" She whispered in a calm, low tone, feeling a lone tear of regret flow from the corner of her eye onto the pillow under her head smelling of his perfume, the adrenaline and endorphin stopped bubbling through her body, leaving only an emptiness inside her.
She felt him looking at her, completely unsure of what to say, his soft manhood still deep inside her.
He slipped out of her gently after a moment, standing up without a word, grabbing his trousers which were lying on the floor, standing with his back to her, putting them on, not even giving her a single glance.
She stood up too, clenching her lips so tightly that she felt like they were purple, her throat twitching all over in a sob that she didn't let escape, but she couldn't hold back the tears of horror, shame and disappointment that flooded her face.
She didn't look at him when she left, when she ran down the stairs and simply left the building, moving in front of her, trying to think soberly where she was and what bus stop she should go to in order to get home.
She heard a vibration in her backpack after a while, her phone ringing and ringing, but she didn't even take it out, not knowing what else they were going to say to each other.
It was obvious that he had never respected or taken her sister seriously, and while it was obvious that she wanted him, she couldn't believe that the depth of his feelings were actually that great.
She felt that he had talked himself into this feeling, mythologised it and also her character, creating in his mind a tragic story of two lovers who had always been destined for each other, to further distance himself in his mind and mock her sister's personality.
She arrived home pale but refrained from crying in front of her parents, she explained that she felt sick and would go to bed early.
However, not half an hour passed and she heard the screech of tyres on her driveway, she got up to the window and took a few steps backwards, startled to recognise his car, her heart was pounding like mad, her throat squeezed so tight with fear that she felt like she was going to vomit.
Will he tell them everything? Will he humiliate her in front of her parents, entertain himself at her expense now? Will he take revenge?
She ran quickly downstairs hearing raised voices, his, her father's and her mother's, her mother clearly outraged at the sight of him and his insolence.
"How dare you show up here after all this? Have you no shame?"
"Did your younger daughter get home safely?"
"It is none of your business, young man, you are to leave our house immediately!"
Said her mother, enraged and heartbroken, her father threatened to call the police on him, but he lifted his gaze hearing her footsteps and spotted her on the half-floor standing on the stairs.
Something changed in his gaze, she saw that he swallowed hard, in his eyes pain, fatigue, regret and something else from which she ran out of breath.
"Thank you. I've already found out what I wanted." He said lowly, turning and simply walking away, closing the door behind him, her parents looked at her in disbelief, they heard the sound of the engine firing up.
"What did he mean? Why was he asking about you?" Asked her father, and she looked at them with her eyes wide open not knowing what to say.
Did he come just to check that she got home safely?
"He goes to therapy. He asked me to go with him. He didn't want to be there alone." She told only part of the truth with shame, having no strength to pretend any longer, her mother froze, looking quickly at her father and then back at her, her eyebrows arched in disbelief.
"After all, this man is unpredictable, look what he did to Alys. He's made her dependent on him, like a parasite he's put the idea in her mind that she won't be able to live without him."
"And she did the same thing to him."
"What?"
"Alys was doing the same thing to him. He was showing me messages from her, mum. Sent from her number. That's why I went with him." She mumbled out and burst into sobs again, covering her face with her hand, her pain and despair finding an escape at last.
Her mother seeing her condition moved towards her and hugged her, in her embrace some kind of understanding, her father looked up at her from below with his hands placed on his hips and sighed heavily, shaking his head.
"Alys can't know."
For the next few days neither he nor she made contact. Some part of her was grateful to him for not pressuring her, for letting her put it all together in her head.
She herself did not know what she felt.
On the one hand, caution prevailed in her in his presence, she had the feeling that she was still waiting for some blow from him, an unexpected hit that would break her and prove to herself that he had been playing with her all this time for his own entertainment.
But then she remembered their conversation in the university courtyard, what he had said at the psychiatrist's.
I think that I'm in love with someone.
She read their long exchanges about poets, writers, but also about their thoughts and their lives, trying to find any trace of a lie or manipulation in them, but was pained to find that, although it may have been due to a lack of distance, she did not find it.
She no longer knew what was truth and what was a lie.
The last extra classes of the semester were open lectures she was attending with him, she knew they would be discussing Trans-Atlantyk and she thought maybe that was a sign.
She reasoned that if he didn't turn up it would mean that he had given up, that he had been disappointed with her and got bored and that she could move on at last.
She had arrived earlier than usual, wanting to borrow some books from the library for the holidays, standing at one of the bookcases she spotted him from a distance sitting alone at a table, bent over a thick volume, even though it was still half an hour to class he was sitting in the same seat as always.
She felt the heat fill her body, her heart began to pound like crazy due to some incomprehensible joy at the sight of him.
She moved towards him with several tomes in her hands and sat down next to him, they did not greet each other, however, she felt his gaze on her, his warm breath on her skin.
She turned her face towards him and noticed that his healthy eye was all red, his lower lip trembling, as if he didn't believe she would come, that he would ever see her again.
Something in that sight, in the tear that ran down his cheek made her lay her head on his shoulder, snuggling her nose into his neck, she heard him draw in air greedily, his hand rose quickly and touched her cheek, his fingers twitching, stroking her soft skin with a gentle, tender motion.
She put her arm around his shoulder and stayed like that, feeling strangely calm and safe, she felt him place his cheek on the top of her head, she could hear his broken, rapid breathing, his lips placing a tender kiss on her hair once in a while.
She turned her face towards him, heard only his quiet, low sigh as their fleshy lips found each other in a sticky, hot, wet kiss, his large hand holding her face in place, not allowing her to move away.
She pulled away from him at last, stroking his well-defined jaw with her thumb, his gaze dark and hot, his lips swollen and red from their caress.
She returned to her earlier position without a word, sinking her face into the hollow of his neck, embracing his shoulder with her hands, he breathed quietly, sliding it out of her grasp, enveloping her waist with it, pulling her close so that she could hug his chest.
The tips of his fingers traveled down her back as he took the book that lay in front of him from the table top and placed it on his thighs, clearly wanting to simultaneously read on and cover up whatever was going on in his trousers.
They stayed like this until the class began when they finally pulled away from each other, his hand quickly finding hers under the table, stroking the top of it with his thumb.
Though doubts still filled her heart, for the first time in years she felt hope.
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla
#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan mitchell#aemond x oc#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#modern aemond angst#dark modern aemond#modern aemond#modern aemond smut#aemond smut#targaryen smut#aemond targaryen smut#ewan mitchell smut#hotd smut#aemond targaryen angst#aemond angst#hotd angst#aemond kinslayer#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond fanfic#aemond fandom#hotd fanfiction
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Going Up
Steven Grant x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •
Summary: The elevator is packed.
🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜
A/N: So this is what happened in the elevator before the spice in What A View. Really, I should have written this first? Why didn't I? I have no answers.
Warnings: swearing, Steven kinda having an exhibition kink, and thinking about and being like oh no, also some negative thoughts about being into it because self-doubt, PUBLIC BONER, overuse of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 559
The queue to check your tickets and wait for the elevator wasn’t too bad, but the lift itself was surprisingly busy when you and Steven stepped inside. You were two of the first people in, so as more and more walked on the space seemed to grow smaller and smaller.
You shuffled back a little and Steven instinctively put his hands on your side as he took a step and rested against the elevator wall.
You moved closer to him as more people got on, pressing your back up against his chest. Sheepishly you glance over your shoulder and smile, “this okay?”
He nods and beams back at you, “of course love.” He gives your hip a little squeeze. “It won’t be for long.” He kisses the top of your head as the doors close.
The first few floors are uneventful, but then there’s a little jolt. Nothing major, just the mechanisms working together, but you stumble back a little, brushing your backside against Steven’s crotch.
He swallows, heat flushing downwards, cursing internally.
You move back to your previous position practically a second later, barely having contact with him. But that’s all it took.
Being in public made it so much worse. Made the blood rush so much quicker.
Other people being around shouldn’t make his dick jump to attention practically instantaneously, should it? That wasn’t ‘normal’, was it?
Marc and Jake weren’t into this. They didn’t get hard the second there was a chance of an audience. Though… well, he’d never really asked to check. What if they did too? What if he asked and they didn’t?
Steven bit the inside of his cheek, trying to focus intently on unsexy things. But you were standing so close, barely an inch away. Your scent wafting around him and pulling him close, soaking the fire that was already ablaze.
He could nudge you back against him, grind into your ass until he came in his boxers.
He bites back a moan at the thought, his cock now painfully hard.
He’d have to be quiet, move slowly so he wouldn’t be noticed, muffle his mouth against your neck and…
He swallowed. He should not be thinking about that.
Steven shifted his weight, foolishly thinking that it would do something to help the ache. Of course it didn’t.
Was it the thought of getting caught that turned him on? Or was it that he wanted others to watch? He scowled as he thought hard, trying to tackle the problem like a puzzle. There must be some straight forward answer as to why this happened. And it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d got a bonker in public.
But he just couldn’t think straight, as, well, most of his blood was a little preoccupied somewhere else.
He couldn’t deal with this. He needed to come. There was no way he could walk around and hope for this to calm down.
Maybe he could sneak to the bathroom and jerk off.
Maybe he could drag you there with him.
The thought of your body pressed up against his made him lightheaded.
The elevator dinged as it reached the viewing floor. Steven grabbed your hand and practically ran out.
“Steven?” You say, a little surprised as he pulls you, having to jog a little to keep pace.
He must really want to see the view.
____________________________________________
Thank you for reading!
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#steven grant#moon knight#moon knight mcu#steven grant x reader#x reader#steven grant x you#x you#steven grant x female reader#x female reader#steven grant x f!reader#x f!reader#steven grant x fem!reader#x fem!reader#my writing#fanfic#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters#moon knight bingo 2024#moon knight events
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Dark Moon | Chapter One
Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader
Word Count | 1,3k
Warnings | +18, explicit language, kidnapping, yandere, use of a sleep-inducing substance (not specific which one), mentions of prostitution
This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.
I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.
And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.
That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.
He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.
➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Here is the spin-off of Happy Ending, I hope you like the first chapter! 🥰
I would like to warn you, Jimin in this story will not be kind and soft like Jungkook from Happy Ending, he is very cruel and selfish, he is a hard yandere
Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie
Taglist is open!
Chapter List - Next
2020.
Three years ago.
According to Kim Seokjin's rules, the choice of a whore was something very important. The girls chosen had to meet very specific requirements, such as not having anyone who would one day - following their disappearance - look for them.
Seokjin did not want any trouble, and Jimin was not about to give him any.
He took a long, deep drag from his cigarette, inhaling its bitter addiction, before blowing a thick, white cloud of smoke out the car window.
He stretched his gloved hands over the steering wheel, waiting for the next move.
Namjoon, at his side, checked that the situation outside was okay -nothing was moving in that neighborhood, not even the shadow of a stray cat - and this created the perfect moment.
"Are you ready, Jimin?" asked the older man, beginning to prepare everything needed.
The dark-haired boy's eyes sparkled, he nodded confidently as he adjusted his coat.
One last glance at the clock and shortly after exactly 1 a.m. they got out of the car, long strides on the asphalt counted only by the ticking of their smart shoes. Seeing them, anyone would have said they were two well-to-do men about to attend an important event, except to glance at the squalor of the houses shrouded in darkness around them.
Namjoon carried a dark briefcase in one hand; Jimin walked confidently beside him before turning into a small, narrow, grim alley.
"They have to stay here, don't they?" asked Namjoon, observing the crumbling building.
"That's what they wrote," confirmed Jimin, finding the lobby door already wide open; it was a low-level Motel, it wouldn't take long.
They found a guy half asleep behind the counter, the two exchanged a glance of understanding before Jimin approached the man in his forties striking him dryly in the back of the head, the latter only having a chance to let out a choked scream before passing out completely.
"Thanks, man," sneered the boy, beginning to look up the names he was interested in in the register, along with the room number and corresponding key.
He nodded to Namjoon when he had everything and they went up to the indicated floor.
Jimin's alert and shrewd eyes immediately found what he was looking for, he pointed the door to his taller friend and together they opened it, they found the lights off, but they were trained to see even in the dark so they went straight to the two beds in the middle of the old and stale room, it was clear that such a Motel could not have all the comforts and amenities with what little they paid, there were not even cameras, it was an unsuitable and unsafe place for young girls like those asleep in those beds, Jimin thought with a grin.
Namjoon set the briefcase down on the floor, retrieving ready-made syringes from it, handed one to his friend and headed for one of the beds, Jimin chose for himself the one near the window and as the filtering neon sign light increasingly put the young girl's sleeping face on display, he inspected the young girl's face carefully, drinking in the sight of her softly parted lips and the warm breath rhythmically lowering and raising her chest.
He lowered himself slightly to her neck, cautiously inhaling the light scent of roses emanating from her inviting skin.
Namjoon, meanwhile, had already finished gently injecting the pinkish liquid into the other girl's arm, the substance would send her to sleep for a few hours, and Jimin should have hurried to do the same, too bad that he was merely gazing longingly at the woman, completely rapt.
Namjoon noticed this and with a shade of reproach in his voice, called him to his senses.
"Jimin, get a move on! Don't let your cock harden just now," he scolded him in a low, irritated tone.
The young man puffed slightly, before uncorking the loaded syringe, unfortunately not accounting for the girl's light sleep, who squinted her eyelids as if disturbed by the presence looming over her with the eyes of a hawk.
She thought she was dreaming, but the figure of Jimin took a distinct and material form in her field of vision, which at first glance left her speechless.
Then a shrill scream left her throat, she tried to pull away, but Jimin was immediately on her, trying to block her, Namjoon caught up with an expletive clenched between his teeth and grabbed the girl by the shoulders, pushing her against the bed, the latter only in time to kick like a horse, managing to hit Jimin at jaw level, which pissed him off in no small measure, without any kindness or regard he stuck the needle of the syringe on her exposed thigh thanks to her pajama shorts, it penetrated the skin like butter and the girl stiffened screaming in pain, she fainted from shock without needing to wait for the injection to take effect.
Namjoon let go a sigh before staring furiously at Jimin, who was touching the affected area with glacial eyes fixed on his victim.
"What the fuck has gotten into you! Did you have to give her time to wake up?" he hissed, his silver hair glowing with the neon light outside, and Jimin gritted his teeth at the saintly appearance he was displaying at that moment.
"I didn't think she'd wake up so easily, okay?" he blurted out, before pulling the girl's body to himself without any care, Namjoon shook his head before retrieving the other one more gently, the one had been good the whole time and he hoped the other Motel patrons hadn't heard the screams.
They should have moved in complete silence inconspicuously, but Jimin did not know what silence was, evidently.
They went out with a placid step, from the other doors they heard absolutely nothing. Perhaps they were not occupied rooms, or most likely no one wanted to risk their skin to go and see what had happened to the girls, it was still a bad neighborhood that one.
Jimin held the unconscious body rigidly in his arms, full of lividity. When he had watched her sleep he had called her a tender little angel in his head, well he was wrong, and very wrong, too.
The bitch squealed like a goose and he would have loved to stretch her neck, which Namjoon wouldn't let him do anyway, they served without the slightest bruise to the Dark Moon.
They arrived at the car without further trouble, even the road had remained deserted, and loaded the bodies into the back seats.
"Let's get out of here before something else happens," muttered the friend, Jimin huffed annoyed, getting back into the driver's seat.
"You're making it too tragic, no one heard us," he said, earning an angry look.
"Because it was a sleazy Motel, you make all that noise in a normal house and see if no one hears you."
Jimin waved a hand, as if to say that he didn't give a shit about Namjoon's worries, bit his own lower lip piercing as he drove taking semi unfamiliar roads to leave no trace of himself.
It would not happen again, after all.
Yes, it hardly ever happened that he got a hard cock in the middle of a kidnapping on behalf of the Dark Moon, that had been new for him as well.
He cast a glance at the other girl as well, but she said absolutely nothing to him, his body seemed to be attracted to the bitch who had kicked him, this made him even more irritated.
"Should we take them to the warehouse?"
The warehouse was an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere, they used it to hide their equipment, but also often to torture and kill, or as in this case, keep the goods cool just long enough to make decisions about them, it was convenient and practical.
"Yes, Jungkook said that Seokjin will lose time at the Dark Moon, there have been clients giving the girls trouble and he is cutting some names off the list," Namjoon replied, reading their maknae's messages.
Jimin nodded, taking the last descent of that country road that would lead them straight to the warehouse.
#bts#bts fanfiction#bts yandere#jimin x reader#yandere jimin x reader#bts yandere smut#bts smut#bts smut yandere#bts yandere fanfiction#bts fanfic#jimin yandere#jimin yandere x reader#yandere bts#bts x reader#yandere bts x reader#park jimin x reader#yandere#bts gang au#bts gangster au#jimin fanfiction yandere#bts mafia au#namjoon yandere#taehyung yandere#jungkook yandere#hoseok yandere#seokjin yandere#yoongi yandere#bts fanfiction smut
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lost in the fire - kendall roy x f!reader
| masterlist | succession sideblog: @kendollroyco | my kendall playlist
chapter summary: your boyfriend works too much. a oneshot, but if we're being real, i was thinking about kendall and the reader from thinking of a place, because i miss them.
pairing: kendall roy x f!reader
words: 4.6k
warnings: SMUT (18+ only). soft dom Kendall. Somewhat unhealthy/jealous/co-dependent relationship but this is a Succession fic so like…what do we expect? Alcohol consumption - I don't know what Kendall's definition of sobriety is but he drinks a cocktail in this.
a/n: i'll get back to tlou but i've had this partially written for like a year at this point. It started out as more of a manic Ken on a power trip type of fic but then it got really soft and fluffy because I am feeling touch-deprived lately so I’m sorry if I didn’t deliver enough evil ken for ya’ll. :/ OOPS!
**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **
"We're like the Lewis and Clark of fucking." - Kendall Roy
Teetering down the hallway, you attempt to quell the outrageously loud click, click, click of your stilettos against the marble floor by shifting most of your weight into the ball of your feet and shuffling forward. It only makes it harder for you to balance while you attempt to put on the flashy gold hoop earrings your friend had insisted you’d wear. Of course, being quiet didn’t really matter, because you were the only person inhabiting the Hudson Yards penthouse.
As usual, you are running late. Famously, you always underestimate how long it will take to get ready for social events – your friends could attest to that. It is a bad habit that, despite years of trying to correct, you can never quite shake.
Beelining for the double doors of the multi-million dollar home, you are interrupted by your name being called out in a sing-songy voice. There is a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you turn towards the familiar sound to find your boyfriend rounding the corner, a drink in hand.
The sight of him at home is rare these days, that for a second, you aren’t even sure if it’s really him. Maybe the place is being haunted by an eerily similar lookalike, or it could be some new ridiculous billionaire technology that he’d invested in– holographic messaging, or something similarly dystopian that you’d roll your eyes at when he tries to explain it to you. It’s fuckin’ next level, I’m telling you. I’m a fucking tech pioneer. You can practically hear him trying to sell you on it despite your distaste.
“Ken?” you cling to the clutch under your arm, unable to stop the shit-eating grin that works its way onto your face. “Hey. When did you get home?”
“Hey yourself,” he answers, poorly hiding a bemused smirk behind Baccarat crystal. “I just got in.”
That much was clear, even though his briefcase and coat had already been cleared away from the table in the entranceway, and his suit jacket draped over the back of a barstool. “Are you going out?” He lowers the tumbler and leans against the counter, but still keeps it close, one finger sliding along the rim.
“Yeah,” you approach Kendall cautiously. “...did you get my text? I thought I’d get ready here, we’re going to that place around the corner.”
He’d given you a key to his flat, even though the relationship was still pretty new – but decidedly not that new, given your history. Things were still moving quickly though, if you compare him to your past flings.
Kendall’s eyes close briefly in recognition, his brows pulling together as though he is scolding himself. “Oh, uh-huh, yeah….right.” It’s then, and in closing the space between you, that his haggard appearance becomes clear. You’re one of few who would probably even notice it. To the untrained eye his white dress shirt is impeccable, crisp and stark as usual – save for the lack of cufflinks, which you notice he’s discarded on the counter alongside his drink. His tie is still fastened tightly around his neck in a perfect half-Windsor. But salt and pepper stubble is sprinkled across his jawline, faint red hazy in the whites of his amber eyes.
Work has consumed him in the last few weeks. It’s been nonstop. And he is still home earlier than you have expected, even though the sun had gone down long ago.
Kendall’s hand wraps around your waist and you lean against him, accepting his affectionate peck on the cheek. “Hey, honey.” The cedar notes of his cologne, the acidity of the vodka on his breath, and the weight of his arm around you makes your stomach flip, even as he draws back, releasing you so he can sit on a barstool. It’s probably for the better, as the impulse to throw yourself into his arms and abandon your plans will become impossible to resist if you don’t leave soon.
It would be a lie to say his career hasn’t put a strain on things lately. Business trips, dinner meetings, weekend conventions all seem determined to keep him away from you. For the past few weeks, you’ve been deprived of him, forced to accept only minutes of his time – mostly sweet nothings and apologies whispered as falls into bed beside you, then presses of his lips on your cheek, still half-asleep in the early hours of the morning as he leaves the next day. You have been forced to savor those moments, even though they are hardly substantial. But you know yourself, you aren’t better off with someone else. He has always been what you wanted.
Still, lately you have been thinking about all his failed past relationships. There is certainly a…pattern. You’ve seen enough, and sometimes it feels like you are purposely ignoring the signs – Watch Your Step!, before falling into a pit of daggers.
He needed a break or he’d burn out, but you’ve learned when to bite your tongue and save those suggestions for when you are sure they won’t erupt. And you both aren’t always good at keeping arguments good-natured.
Kendall shifts in his chair so he can look you up and down – this time up close. “Is this what you’re wearing out?”
“Uhhhh, yeah,” you answer hesitantly, feeling your face heat up.
“Turn around,” his resting facial expression is already kind of indignant, but you can tell right now that he’s definitely frowning.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he says. “I want to see.”
You shrug, but obey, unable to hide the way your lips quirk when you are back facing him again, hands on your hips. All you have to do is read the look on Kendall’s face to know that he doesn’t approve. And even though there is no way in hell you are going to change, the slight blaze in his narrowed eyes makes you think this is about to become a controversy.
“Do you have a problem?” you ask, feigning innocence, glancing down at the getup. The red dress barely covers your ass – is far more revealing than anything you’d normally wear, accompanied by stiletto heels that lace up your calves. Sure, it’s a lot, but you look good, and you’re going out.
“You’ll definitely be getting a lot of attention,” he conveniently doesn’t answer your question.
If you weren’t wearing lipstick, you would’ve bit your lower lip to keep your composure. Instead, you tilt your head and give him a coy smile. “You should come with me.”
Kendall glances down at the countertop and shakes his head, the comment causing him to drop the subject of your attire entirely. “I can’t. I’ve got a meeting first thing.” To be fair, he avoids the club scene most of the time, so it’s not a well-thought-out offer. Too much temptation. “But you look good,” he concedes.
“A work meeting on a Saturday?” you ask, ignoring the compliment. “Fuck,” you reach to take a sip from his tumbler. The vodka he keeps here is always chilled to perfection, so smooth it tastes like it’s melting off a glacier. “It’s that bad?”
He takes the beverage from your hand when you return it, shrugging before throwing the rest back, then standing to pour another. “Just the usual, la-dee-fuckin-dah….corporate bullshit.”
You frown and stare at your shoes, flexing your foot and inspecting its soles.
“Those heels don’t look very comfortable,” he remarks as he passes you.
“They aren’t.”
“Well then I’ll guess I’ll have to take you shopping to replace them.”
You feel yourself flush. “Let me know when you can fit me in your schedule.”
“Uh-huh,” Kendall ignores your jab, changes the subject. “How’s your job?”
“Same as yours. La-dee-fuckin’-dah corporate bullshit,” you repeat his words from earlier, lowering your voice slightly to mimic his cadence of speaking.
The sound of his warm chuckle makes your stomach flip again. “You want me to, uh, pour you one?”
“No, I should probably get going.” You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you are running behind, and you hear the clink of ice against crystal.
Then, his voice, deep and husky, directly against your ear. “Who’re you texting?”
You jolt in surprise at his sudden proximity. “Fuck! Sorry,” you clear your throat. “Uh….the group chat.”
Kendall’s arm reaches past you to place his drink on the counter, and you feel his fingertips brush the hair away from the nape of your neck. Then, his lips follow, pressing there gently, his thumb trailing down your arm and then back up again. You shiver at the contact, and it dawns on you how touch-deprived you are.
“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against sensitive skin. His hands land on your shoulders and begin to knead at the taut muscles there. You try to keep yourself tense, even as you feel your phone slipping out of your hands, the drafted text all-but forgotten.
But instinctually, you shift backwards to feel the weight of his chest pressed against you.“You’re all wound up,” Almost chastising. Every part of your body below your bellybutton clenches. It’s those hands, his hands. Hands that used to wrap around your throat, thread into your hair, hold your wrists in place. Pin you down, spread you open…. While you think about them, you let him work at the tension that he is partially responsible for, nodding and letting out a long exhale.
“Just a little.”
“When are you gonna quit that job?” he asks you.
You first, you want to say, but let the retort die before it could leave your mouth. “Hmmmmm,” you pretend to mull it over, but you’re only half-aware of things he’s saying to you. “I don’t know.”
“What kind of uh, feminist would I be if I let a girl as hot as fucking you have to worry about a job?”
You can’t help but snort, turning your head so his forehead bumps against your own. “Is that how feminism works?”
“Uh-huh,” he chides, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Fucking whatever. I wish you’d just let me look after you.”
You are unable to find your voice to answer, because you remember through your needy haze that you are running late, and when he says things like that, it certainly doesn’t help you regain composure. It’s only after you straighten, trying to pull yourself out of the trance he’s worked you into, that you discover how close he has pinned you to the countertop.
“Ken-” you try to protest, but the way it comes out sounds more like you’re pleading.
“What is it?” Kendall asks, returning his lips once more to your neck, beginning to work them tenderly up the column of your throat, which makes it impossible for you to finish the rest of the objection. “I’ve missed you so much,” he pulls you back against him by your waist.
“Me too,” you sigh. “But I-,” you’re cut off when he grinds against you, already half-hard, and your pelvis hits the granite lip of the countertop. It hurts, just for a second, but the pain is quickly replaced by warmth. Kendall pulls his hands away and you’re only held in place by his hips, the metal of his belt buckle cool against your sacrum. The dress you’re wearing is so thin it feels like there’s nothing separating him from your bare skin.
“You what?” he prompts when you remain silent. You know him well enough to hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face, and his nails rake up and down your arms.
It’s a little petty, but you are hesitant to give yourself over so easily to him. To abandon your evening, just because he’s finally decided to see you at a reasonable hour. Of course, if your friends knew you were late because you were with him, they wouldn’t care. Kendall had been a well-kept secret until it was impossible to deny his existence in your life. But they were all a little too supportive of the relationship, since it meant they suddenly had guaranteed access to any club VIP section - and you perpetually pick up the bill. Not to mention the first-class, luxury accommodations they get on girls trips.
There was more to it than just being late, though. You had always been willing to do anything for him, even before you were dating. He told you to jump, you asked how far? He gave you one pleading look from underneath those thick lashes – and you folded. And Kendall is very aware that he’s your weakness. So you constantly try to convince him otherwise, lest he get too comfortable. And really, after his neglectful behavior, did he really deserve you without any opposition?
“Kendall,” you manage to turn slightly. “I’m going to be late.” Wriggling some more in his grip, but it’s only enough to bring you face-to-face, looking up into his stormy eyes.
He studies you carefully, like he might let you leave if he senses enough conviction. “I don’t care.”
You might’ve laughed, if it weren’t for how stern he sounds. It almost scares you. Almost. Hoping to soften him, you fit your thumb into the dimpled fabric of his tie, and use it to drag him forward, offering a tender kiss on his cheek. Returning the embrace, his stubble scratches your face as he smiles against you. He reaches behind you for another sip of his drink and his unoccupied hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass through the silky fabric.
You are burning, fire licking up your arms, your neck, your face. It’s too much, to have him so close and not be able to have him. All the tension building with nowhere for it to go. When he pulls back, you lean forward.
It’s a little rough at first, because you are so desperate, tasting the vodka, drawing his bottom lip between your teeth. Kendall is the one who softens you, cradles your jaw to draw you closer, opens his mouth and deepens the kiss, so deliberate and practiced that you’re unable to speak when he pulls away.
“Tell me something,” full lips so close to yours that they brush your own when he speaks, your eyes fluttering shut. His touch coasts up your sides, up your arms, landing on your shoulders. “Who are you showing off for in this?” Kendall hooks his pointed finger around a spaghetti strap of your dress, and lets the elastic snap back against your skin. You savor the sting it leaves behind.
Admittedly, there’s a third reason why you’re being so withholding. He’s so spoiled, so used to getting what he wants, whenever he wants it. Not just from you. And when he doesn’t get it, he becomes petulant, fiery. You’ve learned that if you piss him off just enough, you don’t have to ask him to fuck you within an inch of your life. He just does.
So, you decide to poke the sleeping bear, shrugging and crossing your arms like it’s nothing, giving him a demure smile. “You wouldn’t know him.”
Kendall’s nostrils flare as his hand rises to grip your jaw – tightly. “Uh-huh.” Even if you’re only joking, the very idea of you dressing up at all – let alone like that – for anyone except himself, pisses him off. “Fuck you.”
“You’d like to, wouldn’t you?” you try to keep your voice even, but it sort of loses the steadiness you were hoping for when he hooks a finger behind your knee, dragging it up across the expensive, soft wool of his slacks to peg around his hip.
The bruising kiss that answers is clearly intended to erase the smug look on your face, and it works – your breath hitching, the hand on his tie tugging him closer. Kendall seems to speak without saying anything at all, grabbing your opposite thigh and lifting until you are perched on the edge of the countertop.
It’s getting real, but you still haven’t decided if you are actually going to stick around. The way he looks right now, however, swings the pendulum farther into the side of staying in – red lipstick left behind on his cheek, shirt wrinkled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. You wanted to make him look even more wrecked.
Kissing him again, his hands begin to roam, tugging the dress off your shoulders and freeing your tits. “Shit,” He dips his head to sloppily mouthing at the newly exposed skin. “Knew you weren’t wearing a fuckin’ bra.”
“Ken,” you squirm when he latches onto one of your nipples, pinching the other between two fingers. “I really need to get going.”
“Not yet,” he hums, the vibration of his voice against your skin makes the space between your legs ache. “If you’re going to go out in this fucking dress, I don’t want you to forget who you belong to.”
You squirm in his grip – not because you want to get away from him – but because you want to see if he’ll pin you in place, be even rougher. He does. He is. “Stop that. This isn’t a fucking negotiation.”
Well, okay.
He kneads into your thighs now, one of his hands dipping beneath the skirt of your dress that’s already so short he’s only an inch or so away from your already-soaked panties.
“Fuck,” You tilt your head back to look at the ceiling, like you might find some self-control there, some will to resist him, but it’s about as cold and uninspiring as the rest of the apartment. “Please.”
Kendall lets out a dark chuckle, pushing aside your thong and brushing his knuckles against your damp cunt. He loves to tease, and right now is no exception. His touch isn’t enough to satisfy, so you press yourself forward to seek it out yourself. You don’t dare meet his eyes, which you can feel are watching you intently, admiring how you keen and arch and whimper in frustration. Still, you aren’t quite ready to beg.
Thankfully, you don’t have to. Without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, groaning as he does, his thumb finding your clit.
“Yes, Kendall, that’s–” you don’t finish the thought because you aren’t entirely sure what you actually have to say. His digits curl, attentive, practiced – tuned in to exactly what you like, what you need. You grip at the fabric of his shirt that’s bunched around his elbows. Despite how intense meeting his gaze right now will be, you turn to look at him anyway, surprised by the affection and warmth you find in his eyes.
“You try so hard not to be,” he says while he continues to stare you down. “But you’re always so fucking good for me.”
Your stomach flips, partly in shame, partly because of how good it’s always felt to be seen by him. Throbbing around him, feeling your pleasure build, but he withdraws his fingers from you before it can crest. An embarrassing noise leaves you, squeezing your eyes shut.
The clink of his belt unbuckling immediately snaps you back to reality, and you hike your dress further up your hips, shimmying out of your thong. It’s pitiful, the way you don’t want to delay any longer the feeling of him inside you.
He strokes himself in his hand, lines his cock up, and pushes a piece of hair off your face.
“You want me?” he asks, and you bob your head enthusiastically. “Tell me, then.”
“I want you, Kendall. Please, I want you so bad.”
“Yeah you do,” he mutters, and wastes no time jerking forward to enter you.
Though you’d had him plenty of times you never could quite get used to the feeling – he’s big, of course, and it’s always electric, the blood in your veins buzzing, your hands tightening on his shoulders.
“Relax, honey,” Kendall says, feeling the way your body tenses at the intrusion, placing a hand on your sacrum, one between your shoulder blades to steady you.
He presses his hips forward until they are flush against your own, bottoming out inside you, pausing. It’s welcome at first, a chance to catch your breath, to let out a shuddery exhale - temporarily appeased by the way your cunt stretches to accommodate him, and he’s so close to you after so much time spent away. You’re embarrassed at how badly you’ve needed this, how reliant on him you’ve become, but he always feels so good.
Kendall stays still for long enough that you grow frustrated, and you use his tie to pull him closer, loosening the knot and rutting against him until he presses his thumb into the crease of your hip and thigh so hard you are forced to stop. Once you do, he starts to move, thrusts slow but deep, lips pressing hastily between panting breaths.
“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he laments.
Despite everything, you can’t help but talk back. “You don’t say?”
Kendall doesn’t like that at all, his hips snapping at a punishing pace, which seems more like a reward than anything else, his hand clasping your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him.
“Don’t speak to me like that,’ he warns.
An involuntary, low moan leaves you. It’s overwhelming – always is. You aren’t used to sex with someone you feel so connected to, or with a lover who is so attentive to your needs, who effortlessly strikes a perfect balance between rough, passionate, and tender.
You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, anxious to run your hands through the smattering of hair on his chest, feel the warmth of his skin under your palms. Even if it’s not possible, you want to be closer to him. Needy. So needy. You’ve heard it from him before, and would probably hear it again. He is right, and in moments like this, you can never bring yourself to care. You like it.
He’s watching you so intently, and the rest of the city might as well be too. He basically lives in a fishbowl, you’re surrounded by windows that offer panoramic views of the glittering lights of the city. The only reason you have any privacy at all is because of just how high up you are, no one else can actually see you right now. Even if they did, what could possibly happen? Kendall loves to take advantage of this – he’s taken you up against the cold glass windows, has let you sink to your knees in front of him out on his balcony.
“What are you gonna tell your friends when they ask why you were so late tonight?” he asks. “Gonna tell them you were letting me spread you open on the fucking counter?”
“God,” you stutter out, always shocked by the things that come out of his mouth when takes you like this, voice deep and firm, enunciating each syllable like he’s giving a speech – frustratingly collected. It makes you ache that much more. “I missed you,” you whimper, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. As much as you want it fully off, not just hanging loose around his elbows, you don’t want him to release you from the bruising hold he’s got you in. This would have to do.
“Uh-huh,” Kendall answers by fucking into you even harder, his pelvic bone kissing your clit with every thrust, and your nails etching crescents into his biceps. “I know. I’m sorry.”
His head falls to your shoulder in a brief moment of humility, lips working on your neck, and you feel your release fast approaching. In moments like these, you don’t doubt how he really feels. He gives it all away, tries his best to make it up to you, and it’s so easy to forgive him. Kendall’s fist wraps around one of the stiletto heels of your shoes, lifting your leg to hook over his shoulder and drive his cock deeper into you. He’s perfect, feels perfect, there’s no one else who makes you feel the way he does. When his thumb begins to rub delicate circles around your clit, you’re gone.
Your body tenses up for so long, you actually think you might’ve psyched yourself out. And then everything releases. Kendall coaxes you through your orgasm, deep voice muttering things that are either unintelligible or that you wouldn’t dare to repeat out loud, and you cling to him while your cunt pulses in waves. It lasts for a long time, or at least it feels like it does, he slows just to fuck you through it, so you can both savor how good it feels. That’s it. That’s my good fucking girl. When he tries to kiss you, you oblige, but it’s open-mouthed and sloppy since you’re struggling to breathe and can’t stop whispering his name.
“Ken, you’re so good, it’s so good–”
You know he likes to be praised just as much as you do. He cuts you off with a deep kiss, moaning into your mouth and vibrating every nerve in your body as he follows you over the edge, spurred on by your own release. He buries his cock inside you as deep as he can, you feel warm and full and complete.
For what feels like a few minutes, you remain tangled with one another, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel the soft puffs of his breathing against your skin, which is now damp.
Eventually, he draws back, kisses your cheek and tucks himself back into his underwear. You pull the straps of your dress back into place and when you push yourself off the counter, realize your legs are trembling and you wobble.
Kendall reaches to steady you. “Go sit down,” he squeezes your arm and you barely manage to stumble to his couch before you’re slumping against the cushions and struggling to unlace the strappy heels you’ve still got on.
He joins you a moment later, placing a glass of cold water on the coffee table and kneeling to help you out of your shoes. You can only imagine what you must look like, because he looks disheveled, shirt still hanging open, pants unbuttoned, your lipstick still smudged on his cheek. Exhausted as you are, it makes you want him all over again.
He settles next to you, pulls you to his chest, and you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning up to whisper softly in his ear. “Ken,” he turns his head slightly, cheek pressed against your forehead. “I love you.”
From this angle you can only see the corner of his eyes, the way they crinkle as he looks down bashfully, eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks at your admission, words he so rarely has heard before. Words you have vowed to repeat until he believes you – because sometimes you think he doesn’t. Still, he answers. “I love you, too.” You close your eyes a moment, your heart rate returning to normal, and take in one final deep breath. Content.
“I don’t want to keep you from your friends,” Kendall says eventually, hands in your hair, tugging gently so you’ll look up at him.
“Right,” you nod. “Honestly, I don’t know if I even want to go out anymore.”
“But you got all dressed up,” he smirks.
“Look where it got me.”
He laughs. “Uh-huh. You knew what you were doing what you fucking put that shit on.”
You don’t deny it, feeling your cheeks grow warm. It’d be too easy to stay with him, to slide across his lap and kiss him until he takes you again. But your phone dings on the counter, and you know you can’t abandon your friends entirely. You sigh, pulling away from Kendall and looking him in the eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he encourages. “I’ll wait up for you.”
#succession#succession writing#kendall roy#kendall roy x reader#kendall roy imagine#kendall roy smut#kendall x reader alliance please rise!!!!
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Jax x Ragatha: The snake and the water spring
The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis.
Author's note:
I found this show by chance and I took a great liking to it! So now I did a thing, instead of studying for upcoming exams, because I love making things difficult for myself, apparently.
I have no idea what the fandom is like, but I'm playing it safe just to be... well... safe. I just loved the concept of this show so much that I couldn't help but be inspired by it! It got me thinking and I let it all out in this... thing.
I want to write more one-shot fics about the other characters and how they fit into this au too, but I don't know when I'll be able to.
WARNING!
None of these characters are mine and everything mentioned and described is purely made-up fiction; inspired by works that are not my own.
Nothing should be considered canon or taken seriously - we are all here to have some harmless fun!
No age restrictions. I think this might be appropriate for all ages...?
Please show some love and support for Gooseworx; the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus!
I definitely butchered Gooseworx's characters by adding unnecessary 'relationship dynamics' and deviating from their original personalities. I promise that the actual show and characters are so much better than they are in my false portrayal of them.
SUMMARY:
A fanmade take on the events following Pomni's arrival and after the crew had dinner together. This is focused on Jax's point of view, but still written in the third person.
Jax confronts Ragatha after the pilot episode's 'dinner' and does his best to comfort her in a way that works for them. That's it.
Please enjoy!
THE SNAKE AND THE WATER SPRING
Jax was a desert snake.
Nothing but a cold-blooded pest that lived to find his next meal.
When one is left to die under the scorching sun, you can’t stomp on the sun for creating a desert, but you could stomp on the desert snake if it added to the pain of surviving in said desert. The Digital Realm was nothing but a desert sun – a cage with no exit and an evil with no target.
It was no secret why so many had lost their minds here.
Jax took on the role of being the snake. It was never announced or planned, but it was deemed necessary by all who came to know the realm. The inhabitants of The Amazing Digital Circus craved any sense of control; something they could hold accountable for their torment – something they could punish. A menace, parasite.
Evil with a target: Jax.
It was fun to act out while everybody went about their lives. He could unapologetically be the worst being known to man and thrive on the rage and hatred of all he had affected. If they hated him, he was fulfilling his role perfectly… and that meant they could stay sane and do their parts as he did his. Less people would be lost to insanity… and the group would grow stronger.
Everyone had a role in their system – an oasis was established, with Ragatha as the heart of the oasis; their very own water spring.
But when a new invading creature bursts into the oasis with no knowledge of this system, their system would be doomed. Pomni happened to be that invader. Everyone could collectively, yet silently agree that she was acting by her own careless devices since she arrived a few hours ago. She greedily soaked up their water source and left it barren, dry, and suffering.
Granted, Pomni didn’t know how their oasis worked, but it didn’t change the fact that she disrupted everything by showing up. She would have to catch on quickly and prove herself useful, before anyone else loses their minds.
They lost one of their own already… and they almost lost their beloved Ragatha; Jax’s equal and opposite.
Their precious water source.
Snakes offered venom, while water springs offered hope of life. They all desperately needed Ragatha to survive. While most would assume her to be fine after being fixed by Caine, Jax knew better than that. He saw her reluctantly stand aside Pomni to support her – beautifully acting within her role as she always would, but it was clear that Pomni still didn’t understand how scarce the water was by then. Rags was spread thin enough by handling the extra stress and enduring the continuous pain of being corrupted by the abstraction, but that didn’t stop Pomni from practically having a mental breakdown at the dinner table.
Jax saw that coming from a mile away. Thank goodness he silently took the open seat next to Pomni, silent in his insistence that the ragdoll should keep her distance for the time being. He’d give anything to destroy the little jester for abusing his doll. Ragatha was acting perfectly normal at the time – her masked smile perfectly set on her face – until it was time for them all to retire to their respective bedrooms.
Jax wished that he would’ve just dragged her after him when he booked it from the abstraction earlier today. Pomni would have been the perfect distraction for them to escape and get Caine.
He stood at Ragatha’s door after dinner.
Jax made a point to ring the doorbell this time. Usually, he’d just pluck out a key and saunter in like he owns the place, but with what happened today, he’d make an exception. Everyone has their limit – and someone has already reached their limit today. They couldn’t risk losing another one. Especially not Raggs. They all really needed her.
When she didn’t open, he tried the bell again. Nothing.
Well, time for the key, then.
He shoved his hand down his front pocket and fished out the doll’s room key. The bunny didn’t waste time opening the door. He wanted to see what state the girl was in, despite dreading the possibility of finding an abstracted amalgamation on the other side.
Silence.
Not even a creak was heard from the hallway. The room was lit up as it usually was, so that was a good sign, at least. Jax couldn’t see an obvious black body of eyes – another win. But where was Ragatha? He did see her walk into her room, so she had to be here.
He walked around, keeping his cool, casual composure fixed, despite no one being around. It was effortless at this point. It became a way for him to focus on what he could control in this crazy digital prison; himself.
He couldn’t, however, control his ability to spot a blasted ragdoll, it would seem. He scanned the room again, until his eyes fell on her ¾ bed. Could she-?
The bunny rolled his eyes at himself as he lowered himself onto his knees – maybe he could convince himself that he was not phased by the situation. Bending down, he peered beneath the bed frame.
Jax sighed in exasperation. Or was it relief? Both?
Ragatha was in the state she was in before retiring to her room. No gliching, no extra eyes.
Just Raggs.
She didn’t look good, though. The doll was curled up beneath her bed and blindly staring ahead of her. It didn’t look like she was breathing – not that they needed to anyway, but it was uncanny to see Rags like this. She was their voice of reason. She was a water spring in this desert.
If she dried up, their desert would be doomed.
Jax silently stood up and walked back to the open door again. No need to make a fuss over this. He took hold of the door handle and shut it from the inside. Key in hand, he locked the door and nodded to himself. Ragatha needed a raincloud… and he’d have to fill that role now. It’s the least he could do after leaving her to fend for herself when they found the abstraction today.
Why didn’t she run with him? Why did think she could fix someone whose mind was broken beyond repair? Why didn’t she just leave the rookie as bait?
Because that just wasn’t her role, was it?
If it weren’t for her nature – her role – none of them would have made it this far. It dawned on Jax, once again, how close they were to losing their beloved doll. How close they were to being stuck with an invader who knew nothing about what it took to survive in this hell hole.
Enough.
Back to the bed, crouched down and silent Jax positioned himself to lay down and simply look over the red head from a relative distance. There was enough space for the doll to crawl out of hiding without having to touch him. The bunny still hadn’t said a word. It’d be stupid to talk, and he didn’t feel like making the effort. He just wanted things back to normal again – well… as normal as it could have been.
Now Kaufmo is gone, a new creature was invading their home, tearing it up from the roots and tipping the delicate scales of the balance they worked very hard on creating. All because of a lunatic ringmaster having the bright idea of creating a fake exit-door. Someone better get that jester on a tight leash to get her to fall in line, like the rest of them were forced to.
He knew he, for one, wouldn’t mind roughing her up a bit. It was his specialty – his role. The parasite. The menace. The instigator.
Evil with an actual target.
The sound of shifting and movement had Jax blink out of his own head. Ragatha was slowly and dumbly making her way out from under her bed. Her eyes were still fogged over and her face still eerily blank, but at least she came out of hiding out of her own will. In a matter of seconds, the doll was out from her hiding place and settled on the floor beside Jax. She was staring him in the eyes now, waiting for the bunny, silently pleading.
Jax hadn’t had his aloof-douchebag persona engaged since he locked Ragatha’s door. She didn’t need a menace now – she needed to be grounded; revitalized. She needed a dark raincloud to fill up the water spring they all needed.
He didn’t look forward to what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.
He moved to stand up and held out a hand to help her up. He took note of the way her hand was shaking when she took his and gently guided her to the bed. The red head was the first to sit, then moved to lay down on her back and numbly stare at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Jax gathered himself mentally and cautiously crept onto the bed and positioned himself to briefly hover over her, before lowering his full weight onto Ragatha.
He had his head in the crook of her neck, on the left shoulder with his ears folding back to floppily droop to his upper back… with his left hand resting on the opposite shoulder. His body, although slim, enveloped hers and caused her to sink slightly into the mattress. His legs just loosely laid over and aside the ragdoll’s. It was more important to have his weight resting on her torso anyway.
For a long moment, they just motionlessly laid on the bed like this. To an outsider, it would look like they fell asleep atop each other or simply cuddled together very closely.
An outsider wouldn’t see that Jax was focused on the slow process of Ragatha’s body relaxing under his weight and her breathing slowing to a regular rhythm. An outsider wouldn’t have known that this was hardly the first time they’d done this – how long it took Jax to learn that this make-shift deep-pressure therapy was the most effective grounding technique for Ragatha to collect herself again.
They wouldn’t understand that Jax didn’t do this out of wanting to, but rather out of necessity.
Jax didn’t like to be touched. If anything, he was very capable of merely tolerating it. Everyone in the circus knew that he was touch-averse; some even used that as leverage to mess with him if the situation called for it. It was a necessity that he endured to keep his doll sane – to keep anyone of importance here in the circus, sane. Their whole lives revolved around mental strength. It was all just a matter of staying sane.
The laid there for what felt like a lifetime.
Slight shifting beside Jax alerted him that the doll was moving her arms – previously stiffly pinned to her sides. This was good, she felt comfortable enough to move around now!
Her left hand gently snaked up to the bunny’s head and slowly, softly petted his ears in a longitude motion. Her right hand wrapped loosely around his middle-to-lower back – motionless. This was bad, Jax did not like being touched like that!
While he was fine with the rhythmic touches of Ragatha’s left hand, he despised the idle position of the right hand resting on his back. He couldn’t prevent himself from tensing up in discomfort.
Bad touch, bad touch, bad-
This caused the ragdoll to tense up and rip her hands off him as if he burned her.
Oh no you don’t! We are not starting all over again.
He slowly pulls away and propped up unto his elbows, hearing Ragatha’s breathing pick up as she presumably spirals into her own thoughts on how he was going to leave her like this. Jax cast down a disapproving look. He broke his gaze to unceremoniously take her right hand – now clutched close to her chest – and intertwined their fingers, before resting his head on her left shoulder once again. He close eyes as he use his free hand to put her left hand on his head again, waiting for her to resume her petting.
Good touch; this was a good touch. Please understand.
Thankfully, Ragatha relaxed… and continued her previous slow, rhythmic motions. Slowly, Jax felt her relax once again and he indulged into her need for touch by stroking his thumb over hers occasionally.
Soon they fell into a rhythm; Ragatha would pet Jax’s ears 3 times, then it was his turn to stroke his thumb over hers. Then they would repeat the routine. This also helped Jax cope with the touching; the routine. The rhythm.
It felt like hours ticked by as the two just practiced their little unspoken routine. Jax grew used to it after a while, almost forgetting that his new mattress was now a sentient ragdoll and completely tuned into their rhythm of touches.
Pet… pet… pet… thumb. Pet… pet… pet… thumb.
Jax didn’t like touch, but he loved routine.
The doll and the bunny’s time together, once nothing but grounding techniques, grew to become an intimate exchange of touches and caresses – all wrapped in a routine, like a dance. Jax felt warm and fuzzy inside; for once he basked in the moment of enjoying his dolly. He lazily wondered if Ragatha felt the same. He shifted his head to look at her.
The doll looked down to meet his eyes when she felt him move. He could swear that she looked at peace, basking in the bliss of their closeness. For some reason, she looked like an angel. They all saw her as their angel. Had he successfully pinned a heavenly body beneath him?
Her gentle, longing gaze made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt from his core.
This wasn’t the first time this feeling invaded his being when they did this – as rare as these moments were. He wasn’t sure when he started experiencing such feelings during these rare encounters, but as months crawled by, he felt drawn to his dolly more and more. Based on how she looked at him, he could only assume that she felt it too.
Something so foreign, yet so familiar.
He didn’t fail to spot the warmth rushing to her cheeks when their eyes met. She looked so ethereal beneath him, especially when her breathing picked up under his firm gaze. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were lidded. This time, it wasn’t fear or overstimulation. It was anticipation. It was desire.
Jax internally flinched at the tingly sensation when he smoothly burrowed his face into Ragatha’s neck. She shivered at the breath he let out against her skin. He could tolerate the touching a little longer, as long as he could see her crumble again. He wanted to see her walls crumble again.
“Jax- ”
Oh… he had to hear her again. More clearly, next time. This was torture, but she made him into her own personal masochist. His skin crawled at the sensation of her skin shivering against him, but he needed more. He could take it. Just a little longer – he just had to stand these sensations a little longer. He looked at her again.
Ragatha was reverting to a helpless puddle. The doll’s arms were gripping at the covers beneath her, successfully eliminating the bother of excessive contact that he despised. Jax didn’t know if she did it with that intension or without thinking, but either way, he was thankful. He really wanted more.
Why couldn’t he just be normal?
He lifted onto his elbows again and – dare one say – lovingly looked at her face. She could only peek back at him, breathing slightly faster than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shaky hand rise from the covers and hover next to his cheek, while her eyes pleaded for his mercy. He hesitated but bit the bullet to comply; leaning into her touch while desperately trying to ignore the odd tingles. Jax convinced himself to kiss her wrist and drowned himself in the pleasure of hearing her softly call his name.
He only heard it because he was listening so closely for it.
Yes.
DING DONG
In a flash, Jax braced himself up into a crouch and slammed his foot down with a mighty THUMP upon hearing Ragatha startle into a fit when the doorbell chimed. His hair on his back stood on end and his claws ripped through his gloves, leaving gouges in the covers beside the doll’s head.
His precious doll was disturbed again!
He heard her soft cry of fear and his blood boiled with a thirst for vengeance. Only he can make her cry out. He’ll skin the soul that dared to-
“Ragatha…? Can we talk?”
That DAMN jester!
“Jax?” a quiet voice trembled in his ear from beneath him. Jax stopped glaring at the door to softly glance down and see what his little doll wanted.
“Don’t…” Raggs sounded like she was begging while being held at gunpoint, whispering despite their rooms being enchanted to not hear anything from the outside when the door is shut.
Jax wouldn’t dare let that thing inside. Raggs was upset enough as it is.
“Look, I know it probably wouldn’t make a difference…” Pomni’s voice came from the other side door again, “…but I’m so sorry for running off… Again… I saw that exit and I had to see if it was real. No one else believed me and I started to think that I was losing my mind. You understand that, right?”
Jax placed both his hands down on the mattress, blocking the doll’s view of the door as if it could block the sound of the voice from reaching the Raggs’s ears, still hovering over her. He knew that his dolly didn’t want to hear anything the harlequin had to say now – he had half the mind to get up and bash the newbie’s head in.
“I hope we can talk about this some time. You are probably tired after such a long, crazy day.” Pomni’s voice died down near the end, “It feels like you’re the only good person here.”
She really is, but she’s too good for you. Selfish leech.
Jax looks down to the girl, still stiff as a board beneath him. Her eye was shiny with the swell of tears. He melted at the sight – anger simmering down. She was just a sweet little rag dolly, she didn’t deserve any of this, but oh, he was so happy to see Ragatha finally emote something again. She was OK again. Their water source was filled once again, now threatening to spill over. He’d happily welcome the flood.
He needed her.
The sound of fading footsteps causes Jax to rip his eyes to the direction of the door. His hearing was better than the dolls, probably thanks to being a rabbit.
Good riddance.
Ragatha seemed to relax at the sight of Jax deflating his stance, reading that Pomni probably left her door. She hesitantly reached up to cup Jax’s cheek. Jax followed her hand’s motion and scoffed, cringing at the invasion. He’s had enough touching for a week. It sucked to leave his doll so soon after being distressed again, but he couldn’t bring himself stand any more of this. He quickly got up and smoothed out his clothes, but not without missing the flash of hurt in the doll’s eyes. He felt bad, but he had to be strong with the new girl around, so straining himself now would only make matters worse and mess up the whole system.
Still, seemingly bored, Jax stood in his spot while rocking on his heels and looking off to the side, only sparing her a glance. Raggs sat up by then. She looked a little worse for wear, but it’s an improvement from hiding under her bed. She rested her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. The hurt in her eyes was long gone, but she looked tired. Poor thing, Jax shared the sentiment.
He felt her eye bore into the side of his face and the bunny couldn’t stop himself before he rolled his eyes and looked to her again. He could’ve choked on air when he saw her face, but the years of steeling his demeanor left no trace of his inner turmoil.
Raggs sported that longing look in her eyes again.
They were so close this time – closer than they’ve ever been before. Each time they spent together on nights like this, although few and far between, they grew closer… and hungrier. Neither understood what it was, but they never had the chance to just collapse into it, tonight being the closest to that.
But there was always something, right?
Jax allowed gaze to soften. His doll offered a small smile that almost ripped his heart out if his chest. It was drenched with melancholy of something she knew they could never have.
Because their roles in their little ecosystem didn’t allow for it to ever be theirs. It would never work.
This was survival.
The rabbit steeled his demeanor once again, but this time, his doll’s face didn’t fall.
Good, as it should be.
Jax walked to the door and fished out the key from his front pocket. He didn’t bother looking back. If he did, he wouldn’t have the will to leave anymore. When he opened the door, though, he couldn’t help but mumble out teasingly.
“See yah later, Doll~!”
He wished that he could shout his affections for her out into the void instead.
“I’m not your doll.” Ragatha responded, voice still wobbly and tired, but perky regardless. She knew just how to indulge him.
Yes, she is… she always will be.
Fanart: Evil with a target
Oasis: TADC AU list
Masterlist
#the amazing digital circus#fanfiction#tadc fanfiction#tadc jax#tadc ragatha#jax x ragatha#bad analogies#tadc oasis au#oasis#mutual pining#angst and fluff#soft jax#touch averse jax#deep pressure therapy#aggressive cuddling#psychiatric episode#unhealthy coping mechanisms#healthy coping mechanisms#Jax has one line of dialogue#jax hates pomni#ragatha is trying her best#everyone is traumatized#yeehaw new fandom#i cant tag#tadc pomni#animal instincts#gooseworx
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･ﾟﾟ･｡ my beautiful girlfriend | WEN JUNHUI
pairing: idol/actor!junhui x ff!reader // genre: oneshot; hurt, comfort, angst(?) // warnings: petnames; (baby and love), misunderstanding, overthinking, crying, lowkey self-depricating, proofread quickly. // wc: 1.6k
a/n: merry christmas <3 @honajoong hii lex!! I'm your secret santa :> despite starting a little late, I wanted to be involved as well and I got you!! I will admit I struggled to write for junhui since he's the first seventeen member I've written about, but hopefully I think I managed to grasp his characteristics(?) 🥹 I hope it's okay!! also 'yn yln' is 'your name' and 'your last name' :>
Two years. Two whole years since jun asked to be your boyfriend. Two whole years since you started supporting him through his acting career. But never in your two whole years together were you jealous about his co-stars or fans. You've always been hidden away from the public, not going to any events together. Not even getting barricade tickets for his and his group's concerts for the sake of not getting caught somehow.
It's always been like that though. But that's because no one knew about your relationship, not even the rest of his group members.
Jealousy has never been an issue for you until you read an article regarding jun's new upcoming Chinese drama. See, this was new to you. Usually you'd be excited; treating him to order take out from his favourite place, or buying him small gifts to add to his collection of other things you got him within your relationship.
As you read article after article the majority published about how jun and his co-star make such a good couple. Some even published pictures of them together at the premier event they recently attended, while others are scene captures from the said drama.
There was this one picture you saw that made your heart drum disturbingly loud in your ears, not because of the photo itself but because of the comments regarding it. Your eyes dart from comment to comment, 'Wen Junhui and ____ have incredible chemistry', 'A new couple in made in the industry?', 'I hope they're dating in real life.'
Your breathing pattern becomes ragged from the thought of feeling like you're hindering Jun in his life. If you were just making things difficult for him since you were no one but a regular person who works a 9-5 job. In times like this, which was rare, you had no one but yourself to console you.
A single tear runs down your cheek which has you vigorously wiping it off your face, refusing to let yourself become so weak because of this.
You see a text appear from the top of your phone, a text from your boyfriend asking how you were and letting you know when he'll be home, but a part of you felt like you were sinking inside. All these comments getting to your head about Jun and his co-star, but you know you shouldn't think that way. Besides, you never used to think that way initially.
Thinking that it's best to sleep off the thoughts gathering in your head, you grab the folded blanket beside you on the couch, splaying it over you as you play music from the t.v, hoping that would help you get your mind off it.
Hours pass, the living room dim from the lack of light but only from the t.v itself. You pick up your phone to check the time, and while you were asleep, you received multiple texts and a missed call from Jun; all the messages asking if you've eaten, what you want to watch later in the evening, and so forth.
However, you didn't feel like messaging him back, or even calling him back either. You thought your nap would rid of the uncomfortable overthinking, but it just has you questioning, 'why is he even with me?' He could pick any other girl, but why did he choose you. He has a beautiful co-star with incredible chemistry, why doesn't he just ask her to be his girlfriend instead—
"Yn?" Jun's voice echoes in the room and cuts off your trail of thoughts.
You refuse to turn your back and greet him, instead, you pick up the remote and search through films to watch as if he wasn't calling your name again.
"Hey, did you get my texts? Have you decided what you wanna eat tonight?" Jun asks again, caressing the top of your head and missed as he tried to kiss the top of your head, but you flinched away.
"Not hungry." You reply curtly.
He could sense something was off, not wanting to think too much into it, he lets it slide as he goes into the bedroom for a quick shower and change of clothes. He hasn't seen you behave this way before, wondering what possibly could have happened recently to tick you off. His mind was thinking of every possibility but to think of articles since his shoots for the drama were quite a while ago.
As he walks back into the living room, you're still sitting in the same spot on the couch. He walks around the couch to sit beside you, lifting the side of the blanket to share, but you take it off and let him have all of it instead.
Jun turns his head to look at you, a questioning expression on his face yet you don't turn to look at him. A straight, unbothered face is what he sees as your eyes are stuck on whatever movie you put on the t.v.
"Is everything alright? I feel like I've done something wro-"
"Everything's fine." You lie, cutting him off and not wanting to think about it anymore. For the first time in a while you almost didn't want to be in his presence for the sake of keeping sane.
"Well it doesn't sound fine." He turns his body, attempting to test the waters as he places a careful hand on your lap. This time you don't flinch.
You sigh. Pausing before you answer him honestly, "Because it's not."
"Love, how am I supposed to know what's bothering you if you won't tell me straight?" Jun's hand starts caressing your thigh in attempt to comfort you and allow you to open up to him, like you usually do.
You try to gather your thoughts and stare at one spot, but nothing in particular, on the t.v as your breathing becomes uneven. It's difficult talking about a feeling you never thought you had to ever talk about, but it was bound to happen at least once in your life. And that was this current moment in time.
A stuck, choked up feeling in your throat starts to erupt as you struggle to find the words to say, leading to you struggling to stop yourself from tearing up out of frustration.
You explain about the articles you've read about him and his co-star, the ones headlining and the comments you've seen. Your breathing hitches a little while you're talking, and Jun couldn't help but scoot closer to you with his arm around you.
"I tried my best to not let it bother me, but it was a lot to take in. I'm sorry." Jun wipes away at your tears, listening intently as you continue, "I know it's your job, I understand if I'm being unacceptable and if you don't want to be with me anymore."
Tears are non-stop streaming down your face, also because you're mad at yourself for becoming so weak and letting this get to you in the first place. You feel Jun's hand resting on the middle of your back, rubbing it with comfort.
You continue letting out your hushed cries, burying your face into his chest with muffled sorries leaving you. Jun's never seen you cry so much and his heart drops at the sound of your irregular breathing pattern in attempt to stop yourself crying. How could you stop when he hugs you tight momentarily, slowly swaying you side to side as he rests his cheek by your temple.
"Hey, hey. It's okay." He cups your cheek, pulling back to hold your face close to his. "You know you're always going to be the one for me. I'm sorry that hiding our relationship has been difficult, I know. I want to let everyone know that I'm yours, but right now it's a little tricky, and I know that's no excuse but I swear I will let people know. Sooner than later, I promise."
Your sobs quieten down, a little exhausted from the thoughts occupying your mind the whole day. But you respond with a slow nod and a tight lipped smile as you both shuffle on the couch and lay your head on his chest as his hand finds its way to skim up and down your back once again.
･ﾟﾟ･｡ ･ﾟﾟ･｡ ･ﾟﾟ･｡
It's been a few days since Jun had comforted you. Your phone pings from a notification about another article that had just released with the headline reading, 'Wen Junhui breaks rumours about dating co-star and is a relationship with Yn Yln"
You read it once more. And another time, expecting there to be hate thrown at you, but there was nothing but love and support from Jun's fans. It was entirely different to how you thought they would take it, but you're just grateful that it didn't go that way at all.
Your boyfriend's tall figure walks through the door with a bouquet of flowers, not even a couple of minutes after you had read the article, and he's making his way to you sat by the breakfast bar.
His subtle smile curves his lips as he holds the bouquet out for you. While you, on the other hand, are pouting; worried that it might ruin his career and receive potential hate, but Jun was unbothered. He was certain about it.
"You didn't have to do that, Jun." You insist, receiving the flowers from him. "I don't want this to affect your career."
He stands by your knees as you face him, towering over you ever so slightly.
"I wanted to let them know. I can't keep hiding this relationship forever," he kisses your forehead as his hands plant on your shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze. "And honesty, as much as I love to keep you to myself, they need to know that you're my beautiful girlfriend."
© BOBA-BEOM ; do not repost, alter, translate, or claim as yours on here or any other platform.
tags: @lovejoshua @junniieesbby @flwrseon
permanent taglist: @choiwrld @yjusei @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque
#wen junhui angst#wen junhi scenarios#wen junhio fic#wen junhui x reader#svt jun#wen junhui oneshot#junhui oneshot#junhui scenarios#junhui x reader#junhui angst#junhui fic#seventeen angst#junhui comfort#seventeen comfort#seventeen oneshot#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#my attempt at writing junhui#I WILL CRY IM SO NERVOUS#[ 🎄 ] — smiles' secret santa.#lex ♡#honajoong ♡#[ 🧸 ] — mutuals.
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Genshin.l men when you pluck off their first grey hair.
Uhh, I know some good candidates for this one! xD
Characters Included: Itto; Kaveh; Zhongli; Kazuha
Content: Fluff; established relationship; overall just good feelings and joking around; no drama at all in this one
Word count: 1,3k words
Have fun with this one!
Itto
It was your usual hangout day with Itto and his gang, but you were bored
You guys weren't doing anything interesting or fun, just sitting around, playing cards
well.. Kuki may be entirely satisfied that the boys were keeping low on their shenanigans, but you were bored out of your mind. Your boyfriend wasn't really paying attention to you, too invested in his stupid card game
somewhere along the way, you decided to lay your head in his lap, hoping to garner some attention this way
when that also didn't work, you started to play with his hair to get a rise out of him, but that also failed. He did enjoy your touch, but ulimately, it wasn't enough to distract him
that was, until an idea formed in your head. True, it may sound like a stupid one, but your boyfriend was also known to not exactly be of the brightest sort
so, with feigned shock, you suddenly gasp as you pluck one of his hair out of his head, the sudden exclamation finally getting Itto's attention
"What? What's wrong, babe?"
"Itto.. I think you're getting old.. Look, your hair is going white!"
You play your part good, but it obviously was a pretty stupid prank to pull on him. Everyone caught onto it the moment you spoke it out loud. Well.. everyone, except..
"WHAT? ARE YOU SERIOUS?"
Itto practically jumped up, panic written all over his face
"This can't be! Not my hair!"
You look at him, puzzled, confused that this stupid joke actually worked on him. You looked to the other gang members, but they only sigh and shake their heads
When Itto finally got in front of a mirror, you could almost see the gears turning in his head.. it took him a solid minute until he realized it, too
"(NAME)!!", he screamed and now you couldn't hold back your laughter
Kaveh
For a man, Kaveh was overly focused on his physical appearances
he always made sure to stay relatively on top with his choice of clothes and his hair is always well taken care of
and while that might sound like someone who would be overly arrogant, Kaveh was not like that at all
he just really cared about what he looked like, always wanting to "Impress", if you can call it that
so, one day, you thought about a little prank. You didn't think anything bad of it, it was just a harmless joke...right?
well... one time, after waking up in bed together, Kaveh asked for you to brush through his hair while he was looking through some sketches again, and that was just the perfect opportunity to execute your plan that has been brewing in your head for the last few days
For a few seconds, you silently brush the comb through his hair, followed by your fingers to smoothen it up again, when you suddenly gasped
"What? What's wrong, (name)?", Kaveh sounded confused at the sudden change in atmosphere, slightly alarmed
"Kaveh.. I think I found a grey hair here.."
"...WHAT? PULL IT OUT! PULL IT OUT!", he screamed.
This couldn't be happening! Not yet! He wasn't even THAT old!
You plucked the single hair out like he requested. And while it was just a normal, blonde strand of hair like the rest of it, Kaveh was an expert in stressing himself out so much that he actually thought to see it as well
"No, no, no, no!"
He began pacing through the room, trying to think of a solution. This couldn't be happening!
You almost couldn't hold back your laughter, but when Kaveh suddenly ran out of the room, completely forgetting about anything else, you knew that you might have messed up a little bit with your prank...
Zhongli
You and Zhongli were laying on the couch, his head rested in your lap as you massaged through his scalp
The events of the day had tired him out more than usually and you noticed that as soon as he came through the door of your shared home
so, you offered to help him relax a bit. You made him a cup of his favourite tea and were now spoiling him with this incredible massage, he felt like all his dreams had come true at once
his eyes were closed, humming from time to time, telling you just how much he enjoyed this
"Hmm..", you let out after some time of you being quiet. Zhongli rose an eyebrow at that, but otherwise remained as he was
when nothing else came from you, he opened one of his eyes, staring up at you
"Is something the matter, darling?"
"Hmm? Oh, not really.. I just noticed, you seem to have gotten a few grey hairs.."
Your tone was gentle and you kept up the relaxing movements through his hair
"Ahh.. Is that so?", Zhongli quietly spoke, closing his eyes again
"So it seems that the wheel of time is finally catching up to me, as well."
"...Are you bothered by it?", you ask, carefully, not knowing how he would react to that revelation
"Not at all. This is just how things are supposed to be. I don't mind it at all."
And he meant that. He couldn't be bothered by his hair turning a different colour, when everything else in his life was just perfect...
Kazuha
You and Kazuha were currently on board of the Alchor, making their way back to Inazuma
You had decided to accompany him on one of his travels and it has truly been one of the most amazing experiences in your entire life
The things you got to see during your travels, the people you interacted with, and the memories you made together with Kazuha.. it would surely stay in your mind forever
Currently, you were both out on the deck, just looking out into the distance, silently enjoying each others company
normally, you would sit with your back against Kazuha's chest, his arms would be around you while he simply held you like this. Sometimes he would kiss your hair and other times, he would tell you a poem that he just came up with. You cherished those peaceful moments with him
This time however, your roles were reversed, with Kazuha sitting with his back against your chest, half sitting against you and half laying in your lap, while you gently stroke through his hair
he wasn't really thinking about anything in this moment, instead enjoyed the gentle breeze of the wind and your touch in his hair.. surely this must be what heaven felt like
he was sighing every now and then with content and each time, you smiled at the sound, glad that he was enjoying this
then, one time, when you took your hand out of his hair to put it to a different position, you noticed a few loose strands of hair caught between your fingers
you pulled them out and stared at them a bit.. something felt off about it somehow..
"Kazuha.. is your hair starting to grow grey?"
At first, he wasn't sure if he heard you right. He opened his eyes, only to find a serious expression on your face
You really weren't joking...
"My dear...", he only said, sighing a bit
"What?", you asked, feeling a bit offended at his tone. You looked at him a few more seconds until you realized it..
your eyes grew wide and Kazuha knew you finally got it, a sly grin making it's way on his lips
"Oh...", was all you said, embarrassed that you forgot something like that
Kazuha just smiled, but said nothing further about it, just closing his eyes again as you continued with what you were doing before
Would he ever let you live that down? ...No, of course not...
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin headcanons#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#itto x reader#itto headcanons#itto fluff#itto x reader fluff#itto x reader headcanons#kaveh x reader#kaveh fluff#kaveh headcanons#kaveh x reader fluff#kaveh x reader headcanons#zhongli x reader#zhongli headcanons#zhongli fluff#zhongli x reader fluff#zhongli x reader headcanons#kazuha x reader#kazuha fluff#kazuha headcanons#kazuha x reader fluff#kazuha x reader headcanons
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Kindness and sunflowers
This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a fic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)
Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.
Tags: f!reader, soft/implied Higuruma x reader, drinking, fluff, hurt, and comfort.
WC: 1.4k
"Hey, I think he's not doing very well." You said to the other sorcerers, while you were all sitting at the bar. Higuruma had his face plastered on the counter, and one of his hands covered a beer mug. He was mumbling unintelligibly.
This was his first time out of Jujutsu High's headquarters ever since they detained him. After saving your ass when you were on a mission, Higuruma — a curse user that was being hunted by Jujutsu High — was granted mercy under some conditions. If he proved himself as a worthy jujutsu sorcerer in their service, his suspended execution would be extinguished. You asked Gojo, as a favor from your friend, to try saving the guy (after all, he saved you first). Gojo agreed, but warned you'd be responsible for accompanying him in this "parole" period. Deal, you answered, and here you all were a month later.
The guy was smart (and a smart mouth), even with his kind of nihilistic demeanor sometimes. Working with him was very different from working with Nanami the months prior. Higuruma was an absolute beast in the field, and took many more risks than your previous mission partner. On one occasion, you had to take the poisonous hit from a curse to protect him, simply because he made no effort to dodge. You knew full well you could recover using your own RCT, but man, it was a nasty recovery period. He apologized at the time for his irresponsibility, and his empty sardonic facade seemed to get a little chipped away since then. At least for you.
"He seems fine to me." Nanami sipped on his own drink nonchalantly, as he raised one eyebrow while looking at the man. His contempt was hidden under the perfect monotone he had to his voice — Nanami was still furious at Higuruma due to the poisoning debacle that left you bedridden for an entire week.
You looked at him, somewhat irritated.
"Really? Does he, Nanami?" You asked rhetorically, pointing dramatically to face-plastered-on-the-counter Higuruma.
He sighed, putting his drink glass back on the counter. "I apologize, that was uncalled-for." Nanami said. "Yes, he should be taken somewhere else to sober up and sleep properly."
"Hey, lawyer man." Shoko poked Higuruma's arm, and he barely moved. "Yeah, he's out."
"This is it, I'm getting him home." You sighed. "I mean, now he's allowed to go out the headquarters, he might go home, right?"
Gojo shrugged, laughing, as he took many pictures of passed out Higuruma on his phone from different angles. "I didn't ask. They just said he could leave headquarters."
"You didn't ask?" You said, stunned.
He put his phone away in his pocket, clearly amused. "Well, when this happened to one of my students, he wasn't bound to be in headquarters all the time. So I think it's safe to say the man is free to go, as long as he comes back."
You facepalmed. Getting money from your wallet, you gave your and Higuruma's part to Gojo, the only person sober in the whole entourage. "Here, this should cover for us. I'm calling a cab."
He smiled as he said good luck.
***
After fumbling through Higuruma's wallet and questioning him relentlessly, piecing together everything the drunk man could tell, you finally got to drag him to his apartment, where he used to live when he was still a lawyer. There was just one thing you hadn't accounted for — neither of you had the key. You were cursing yourself and him under your breath as you conjured up a tiny grenade with your innate technique, just strong enough to bust open his door without causing collateral damage. He was leaning against the wall, sitting on the ground, and seemed to be snoring. May the neighbors not hear this. It was late enough to be almost early.
The controlled explosion was loud enough to startle him awake, but didn't seem to attract any attention from the other apartments. You threw Higuruma's arm over your shoulders and lifted him up, while you opened the door and carried him inside. Miraculously, when you flipped the lights on, it actually worked. You put him on the couch as you used one of the chairs around the place to hold the door closed.
"You're kind, did you know that?" Higuruma said, while he was a tad bit more sober now than when you both left the bar. He threw himself over the couch, extending his arms on the cushions and leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. "The world is not a great place for kind people."
"You don't say." You replied, smiling, while you looked around the apartment. Somehow, it was exactly what you expected his place to look like. A little messy, with lots of books lying around the house, and even if the place had no big decor or anything like that, it still felt warm. You saw a sunflower withered by the window, and you noticed he looked at it at the same time, grunting in complaint.
Higuruma leaned forward to remove his shoes, but was having a hard time pulling his shoestrings. You sighed as you said, "here, let me help you." You got on your knees and undid both of his shoes, taking them off.
Higuruma took you by surprise, as he directed his hands to hold your face delicately and lift your gaze. He looked at you, your faces inches apart, as you could still smell the beer from him. His eyes were soft, something you hadn't seen yet. You felt your heart skip a beat as he was holding you like that. "Thank you."
You gulped and blinked a few times, as you removed his hands from your face and got up. "It's just shoes." You turned to walk away into the kitchen and see if you could grab him a glass of water, but he held your hand, still seated on the couch, looking down.
"No. I mean... Thank you." Higuruma said softly. "Thank you for defending me." He sighed deeply. "It's usually the other way around."
"Oh." You turned to look at him. A soft smile took over your face. "You saved me that day. I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least try to return the favor."
He pulled you and had you landing beside him on the sofa. It startled you, as you felt your face warm and blushing. He was still holding your hand, making circles with his thumb over your hand's back, and spoke, nearly whispering, "You're too kind." He closed his eyes, and for your surprise, he leaned over and rested his face on your shoulder in a cat-like demeanor. Your body quivered as you felt his slow breath pressed against your skin, and you both stayed completely still for a while.
"Higuruma?" You asked, hearing in response a soft snore. Oh, he's out. Sliding him very carefully out of your shoulder and onto the couch, you got up. Time to go.
After taking a last look at the withered sunflower that was beside his window you sighed, looking at your wristwatch and feeling you could still wait a few hours. There was something you to do first.
***
Higuruma's head made him a thousand promises of regret as he tried to remember how exactly he got home. The sun was high outside, and it was probably noon already. After getting completely hammered at the bar, he had only a few flashbacks. Getting poked, an insistent camera flash on his face, everyone's voices, his sunflower dead by the window.
You.
He sat up on the couch hastily, feeling instantly dizzy as he put his hands on his head. "Where is she?" He looked around, and the apartment seemed empty. I hope I didn't make a complete fool out of myself yesterday, Higuruma thought to himself, as he got up, careful not to get the drunken vertigo.
Higuruma remembered the sunflower again, and grunted, displeased. He had bought it in an attempt to decorate his apartment, at least a little, and make it feel more like a home. The former lawyer found the idea of him taking care of a sunflower kind of funny and surely ironic. After everything that had happened, he was away from his apartment for nearly two months by this point. "Good thing I never had any food in here." He said to himself, walking towards the window.
He stopped as he saw a brand-new sunflower in a vase, right where the other one previously was. Higuruma smiled, amused with himself, and traced his messy hair with his fingers, wondering how he would thank you for that.
"Yeah. Too kind."
#jujutsu kaisen higuruma#higuruma x reader#jjk higuruma#jjk hiromi#hiromi x reader#higuruma hiromi#jjk imagines#jjk drabbles#jjk x you
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What does Aziraphale know and when does he know it? Part 2, The Chinwag
Prologue and Part 1, for those who need them.
The chinwag is written and shot in two timeframes: as it's happening, and as Aziraphale retells it to Crowley. That's a fair wodge of extra production expense, compared to just having Aziraphale retell the story. There's got to be a reason for it (beyond additional Derek Jacobi, which is never bad).
I think the reason is so that we-the-viewers can check the congruence between actual events and Aziraphale's retelling, also between Aziraphale's emotional reactions to the Metatron and the emotions he pours out to Crowley. (Remember, Aziraphale is a lying liar who lies!) Also, as some meta-ists have already pointed out, to leave the possibility open that we are not getting the whole story in either frame -- there's likely some interaction that we aren't shown and that Aziraphale doesn't tell Crowley about.
But why wouldn't Aziraphale tell Crowley everything? Hold that thought (though if you've read through my metas, you already know my answer).
The chronology of the chinwag is very tangled in-show (we first see the very end of it!) so I'm going to disentangle it here, as best I can.
Aziraphale tells Crowley, "[The Metatron] said that Gabriel obviously hadn't worked out... and he asked who I thought should take over in Heaven..." Then we cut to the actual chinwag. Aziraphale looks a bit how-is-this-my-problem-exactly, and gives the obvious bureaucratic corporate yes-person (well, yes-angel) answer: Michael.
And the Metatron calls him silly for it. The Metatron has just insulted Gabriel, Michael, and Aziraphale in practically the same breath; if Aziraphale had had any doubts about contempt being fundamental to the Metatron's personality, they've been blown away now.
The Metatron: "... there's only one candidate who makes even the slightest bit of sense." Aziraphale's reaction shot: polite interest in his face, but his hands appear clasped together under the table -- he's stressed and he's hiding things. "And that's you."
And we don't get Aziraphale's actual reaction to this -- we cut back to Aziraphale telling Crowley. I know what I think Aziraphale's actual reaction, and how he expressed it, were -- and I don't think for an instant they were the same -- but by all means consider for yourself. The show wants you to. Also consider whether either of those is the same as the excitement he projects toward Crowley. My cards on the table, and a sneak peek of the next post in this series: I don't think so. I think Aziraphale retelling this story is Aziraphalean kayfabe. The Metatron wants and expects him to be excited, so he's acting excited.
We then cut back to the Metatron's actual words: "Well, yes, you're a leader, you're honest, you don't just tell people what they want to hear; it's why Gabriel came to you in the first place, I imagine."
There is not one word of this that is not bullshit. Starting from the end, Aziraphale knows why Jimbriel came to him, because he asked and the utterly guileless Jimbriel told him. It had nothing to do with leadership or honesty; it was because Jimbriel had a strong, if vague, impression that Aziraphale was the one being who could and would improve Jimbriel's situation. (Other metas from other meta-ists discuss why Jimbriel might feel this way.) The rest of the Metatron's line is manipulative generic corporate-style flattery having zero intersection with the phalanx-refusing, frequently-deceitful, go-along-to-get-along angel we all know and love.
So is Aziraphale buying the Metatron's love-bombing? I mean, it's wholly plausible that an angel would buy it, just out of sheer emotional desperation; Heaven's angels -- those who even remain after the Great War and the mass Fall -- are pitifully love- and approval-starved. Aziraphale himself has barely gotten a kind word from Heaven in his entire existence, and he's had plenty of reprimands. Gabriel didn't get a single gift in six thousand years. Lonely, obliging, bottom-of-the-hierarchy Muriel practically plotzes at the least slightest hint of approval from anyone ever.
There's only one angel on Earth or in Heaven who knows genuine, sustained love and support, though, now that Gabriel is gone -- and it's Aziraphale. I look at Aziraphale's face after the Metatron drops that love bomb, and I see no hint of joy or warmth or Muriel-like gratitude. He's not buying it. Aziraphale knows what love is, and this ain't it. (Crowley rescues Aziraphale once again, and he's not even there! I love this.)
What Aziraphale knows at this point:
The Metatron wants him back in Heaven.
Given the Metatron's habitual contempt for everyone around him, and given the blatant lies with which he expresses respect for Aziraphale, the Metatron must be lying about that respect. So whatever his reasons for wanting Aziraphale in Heaven, they're not his stated reasons about Aziraphale being suited to the job.
The Metatron is really buttering him up! "Second-in-command after me" is a pretty solid bribe! A lot bigger than a coffee! And the Metatron doesn't butter anybody else up! So the Metatron has clearly (and likely correctly) determined that ordering Aziraphale around doesn't work -- Aziraphale has a history of defying blatant orders, both openly and by working-to-rule. (The Metatron may or may not know the full details of the Arrangement, but of course it is another example.)
The Metatron is neither omniscient nor infallible. He doesn't know why Jimbriel went to Aziraphale. He doesn't know what line of patter will serve as a suitable love bomb. He can likely be fooled.
What Aziraphale likely wants to know at this point:
What. The fuck. Does the fucking Metatron. Actually want from him.
What. The fuck. Is the fucking Metatron. Actually up to. Because the Metatron has gone a long way out of his way -- en-corporating, coming to Earth, grabbing a coffee, saving Aziraphale from Michael, holding Muriel in reserve, separating Aziraphale from Crowley, pouring poison into Aziraphale's ear (Hamlet allusion, anyone?) -- to further whatever his aims are.
The Metatron, next: "There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them. You are just the angel for the job."
Aziraphale's face, in the next shot, is still full of worry. That's a partial answer to the questions in his mind, but far from a complete one. So he plays to keep the Metatron talking, hoping that will make things clearer. "I… I don't want to go back to Heaven. Where would I get my coffee?" (He doesn't want coffee on a regular basis. He's a tea drinker! This is a prevarication. There is no trust at this table.)
The Metatron, rather than answering, raises his bribe. "You know, as supreme archangel, you would be able to decide whom to work with. I've been looking back over a number of your previous exploits, and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon Crowley. Now, if you wanted to work with him again, that might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status."
I quoted the whole thing because whew, it's crucial and it's layered.
What Aziraphale now knows:
The Metatron sure doesn't look to be taking no for an answer.
The Metatron knows something -- how much isn't clear, but likely something fairly significant -- about the Ineffable Husbands' shenanigans through the ages. He's been studying them. (Which I find chilling, honestly, but I'm a privacy wonk so I would.)
The Metatron knows Aziraphale and Crowley are friends, important to one another; he up and said so.
The Metatron might not mind if Aziraphale got some of his own back from the other archangels. "Deciding whom to work with" in a corporate bureaucracy often means deciding whom to fire, after all. This, too, might be part of the bribe.
The Metatron is somewhat willing to let Crowley return to Heaven. Only as an angel, though, no more bee!demon. He doesn't seem enthusiastic at the prospect, however, or he'd have offered this tidbit already.
What Aziraphale likely wants to know:
The two questions he still has. They have not been answered.
What. The actual fuck. Are these plans and projects? Are they real or are they get-Aziraphale-out-of-the-way make-work?
Is the offer for Crowley on the level? (Nothing else has been so far!) Or is the Metatron's raise not bribery, but blackmail?
As for how Aziraphale responds to this: No joy, warmth, or pleasure, none. His eyes shift quickly when the Metatron first says Crowley's name, and if anything he looks even more worried for a moment. And again, we aren't allowed to see Aziraphale's actual reaction to the raised bribe offer.
If I'm Aziraphale, being railroaded into this return to Heaven by this extremely powerful and worrisomely sketchy being, I sure would want my right-hand demon at my, er, right hand. I'm just saying.
The temporally-last chunk of the chinwag is the Metatron bringing this weird unsavory job offer to a corporately-scripted close: "Well, you don't have to answer immediately. Take all the time you need." Aziraphale plays for additional information, again, by echoing Gabriel's stunned reaction, "I don't know what to say." Note that this is not an eager yes, or any kind of yes at all! Not even the possibility of Crowley being an angel again has managed to wring assent out of Aziraphale! He's the actual opposite of all in on this!
But the Metatron refuses to give any additional information, leaving Aziraphale with a lot of unanswered questions. And he gives Aziraphale an explicit direct order, which is decidedly peremptory of him, considering. "Well then, go and tell your friend the good news."
We see Aziraphale respond to this with his very best go-along-to-get-along faces. He then crosses the street toward the bookshop; his back is turned to the Metatron at last, so he can let out a bit more of whatever he's feeling. What does he do? He takes a deep breath, flashes the Metatron one more brief placating smile, physically pulls himself together, and walks stiffly across the street with another pulling-himself-together gasp for breath in the middle.
This is not a joyous angel returning to his right-hand demon with joyous news. This is an angel with a lot of unanswered questions who's worried sick and unable to let down his guard fully.
Notice, by the way, that the Metatron then goes and has his little insultingly condescending interaction with Muriel, and then he turns back toward the bookshop and stands there. Like Furfur's zombies peering into the magic shop in 1941, he's watching Aziraphale and Crowley from a distance through the bookshop windows. Can he read lips? Who knows. But he's watching.
Next up: The Fiasco.
#gos2spoilers#gos2 spoilers#good omens season 2 spoilers#the fucking metatron#aziraphale#the final fifteen minutes#good omens meta#good omens
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