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drethanramslay · 4 years

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Part 4: Fight or flight

Pairing: Aurora x MC (Iris Everette)

Word count: 3.2 K words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warning: Fluff and a little description of abuse

Taglist: @miyakokurono @agent-breakdance @trappedinfandoms @lilyofchoices @sekizincimektup (let me know if you want to be tagged)

Songs: Emergency by Jay Sean and Clean by Taylor Swift

It had been a week since their fight in the supply closet and Aurora was in a flux of emotions. On one hand, she wanted her baby girl back in her arms and kiss her till the end of time. But, on the other hand, she was just so fucking pissed.

Iris had not come home to the apartment for a week. She stayed, showered and ate at the hospital. Aurora kept true to her promise and gave Iris her space, but that didn't mean it hurt less. The seventh day after the fight, Aurora was distraught.

She had headed to Sienna's room that night and one look at her face and Sienna declared that it was the "eat ice cream till you are sick" time. They saw so many cliche rom-coms and crying which resulted in Elijah wheeling into their room to see if both of them were okay. "Oh my god... Rom-coms really?! They are shit."

"No Eli, they are the shit." Sienna corrected him.

"Get in or get out Eli." Aurora said as she sniffled.

"Geez okay I will join you two to see how can girls cry to such cliche storylines."

Nonetheless, the three of them started crying towards the ending of Titanic.

"Rose is such a dumbass.. Like how COULD YOU LET SUCH A NATIONAL TREASURE DIE?!" Elijah screamed at the TV.

"Yo...I think we broke him." Aurora said as Elijah continued to cry.

"Nah... He will be fine. But what about you?" Sienna asked as she turned towards Aurora.

"Everything sucks."

"Big mood." Elijah chimed in.

"It's just...it feels like I am in a waiting room." Aurora sighed. Sienna sent a questioning gaze towards Aurora.

"It's like... Iris continuously hints about her past. I like her so much....I really do but, she just won't let me cherish her completely. She won't let me in.. She has just put me in that space where I know more that the anybody else but less to know her completely. I know I shouldn't complain, but..... I hate seeing her in so much pain and I want to erase the sufferings. I was to kiss her troubles away. I want to tell her that I am all in, that I will be with her, through thick and thin... But, she still holds me at an arms distance." Aurora sighed, as the pain resurfaced.

"Aww honey...." Sienna reached and hugged her. Aurora shuddered and the need to cry just became so overwhelming.

"I have known Iris for a year and half and let me tell you, she has changed. She laughs more, jokes more and smiles more. She was a withered bud but when you came into her life, she bloomed into a beautiful rose. Iris... had never had many people she could be herself around or count on. I think her mother was the last person who she truly was the real version of Iris, but after that, nobody. So she grew thorns, so that nobody can hurt her again. She had accepted the fact that she was going to be a alone forever. But then, you came. You transformed her. It's a damn great accomplishment if you ask me." Sienna said.

Aurora blew a raspberry. "Trust me I know that. And I am proud of her for slowly opening up. She is self sufficient, independent and so so strong...but she doesn't need to carry that burden alone. I want to share everything. The happiness, the sadness, the beautiful and the ugly. She deserves so much more..."

"I know Aurora I know... I spoke to her a couple of days ago."

"What happened?" Aurora asked, hoping that she didn't sound too pussy whipped.

Stop lying to yourself... You ARE pussy whipped.

"She looks like she got hit by a train. She had dark circles large enough to carry groceries, she zones out sometimes and she is really, really paranoid. Like the other day, Bryce just went to close her eyes, so that he could surprise her. She fucking grabbed his hands and had him on his ass in a blink of an eye!!"

"What?!" Aurora was shocked. This was certainly a new development. She thought to herself.

"I am not joking. Luckily everything is fine but damn, Queen B has some nasty bruises on his wrist."

"Shit." Maybe, just maybe there was something else affecting her and the 'break' was just the cherry on top.

Fuck I am such a selfish bitch..

"Don't." Sienna said before Aurora threw herself into the pit of self loathing.

"Huh?"

"Don't feel guilty. Don't beat yourself. You need to understand that you are pushing her to be a better person, a better friend, a better partner. You are constantly challenging and calling her out. And I believe, that the kind of love you both have, it can survive any storm."

"Love?!" Aurora asked, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"Duh! Everybody can see it that the both of you are completely and utterly in love. Everybody, but the two of you."

"Do you think its true?" Aurora asked, trying to wrap her mind around this concept.

Sienna rolled her eyes before muttering, "Gods, for two smart people with their IQ's above 120, you guys are hella dense."

Aurora looked down at her hands, deep in thought. She was never familiar with the concept of this kind of love. Sure, she 'loved' her parents and family, but love another human being? That to romantically? Never.

She was of a scientific background and she always brushed aside the concept of love. Earlier if you would have asked her ‘what was love?’ she would have said that it was just a rush of oxytocin. Just a flux of chemicals. But now, if she were to close her eyes and think about it, forest green eyes stared right back at her.

"Holy shit." Aurora breathed out.

"God finally EEEEEEE!! One down, one more to go. Just know, I am rooting for the both of you." Sienna said as she squeezed her hand.

"Also can you like hurry up and make up? I might end up losing fifty dollars to Bryce." Elijah chimed in.

"This guys have been BETTING on when we make up?!" Aurora asked in disbelief.

"Eli, SHH!" Sienna smacked him, bullshiting back and forth. But Aurora didn't pay attention to that.

She was in love.

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Iris stepped to the back of the empty elevator and leaned against the wall, sighing. This week had been shit for her. Her girlfriend had called for a timeout, her asshole of a father was walking free on the streets, she had a panic attack, and she lost a patient.

She hated being so paranoid. She hated having to look over her shoulder every minute. She felt so guilty for hurting Bryce, and she profusely apologized by buying him his favourite tacos.

She shouldn't have to stay in such fear. Hadn't she suffered enough? Hadn't she lost enough already? Is her life nothing but a game for the man upstairs?

Being of a scientific bent of mind, the laws of her world were bound by logic and proof. She never really believed in the existence of God. But at moments of weakness, like now, she couldn't help but wonder who is responsible for fucking her life up.

The lift dinged, and she opened her eyes to see which floor it had opened on. But what she saw, made her eyes open wide.

Rory met her eyes and then looked down as she stepped into the lift. She pressed the button for the fourth floor where Iris was also heading.

"By the way, chief said that there is a storm incoming. He wanted everyone to be prepared incase of an emergency." Iris spoke up, cutting through the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah...my aunt told me that. It also explains why they sent Dr. Ramsey and a couple of electricians to check on the backup generators."

Iris chuckled. "Yap. You should have seen the way he was grumbling and muttering quote unquote- 'God I hate that place...it gives me the heebie jeebies'."

"What?! No way!" She turned around to look at Iris, instantly regretting it. Iris looked like shit. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was so tired that she had to lean against the wall of the elevator for support.

"If you don't believe it, I can ask Baz to send the video to you. Chief had a kick out of it."

Aurora giggled. "Okay, send it to me Adara."

Iris winced and Rory turned towards the elevator doors, the awkward silence settling in. It was slowly suffocating her. She thought that the deafening silence would continue indefinitely, but Aurora spoke up.

"I just...I miss you."

Iris looked up to see the back of Rory's head.

"I miss you too Rory..."

Aurora's heart soared and shattered at the same time. God she missed that nickname so much.

"Adara... Please. Just...please."

Iris shuddered. Just a simple plea, but it held so much meaning. She walked ahead and stood next to her. Aurora found herself leaning towards her, missing the warmth and comfort Iris gave her.

"Rory, I am so sorry... But I can't. It was never my intention to hurt you. You deserve someone strong and willing to be by your side... I am not that. My emotional burden will drown you."

"Adara, I will be the judge of that. If you just-"

"Baby, I care about you alot. And, I don't want you to get hurt... Just know that I am so damn lucky to have had you... for those seven months, I am so, so greatful." She proceeded to kiss Aurora's cheek, before exiting the lift.

Aurora was stunned. She reached to feel the place where Iris kissed her.

She couldn't help but wonder why Iris's words sounded like a final goodbye.

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Everything was okay. There weren't any accidents so far and the electricity was still running. Iris sat in the diagnostics room staring at the window, watching the rain drops pelt mercilessly on the glass window and the trees dancing to the tune of the gale.

She always found the rain soothing. It helped her escape. She could spend hours looking at the rain drops, racing each other to the bottom of the window. Her mom used to make hot chocolate for her on such rainy days. They would cuddle on the sofa, and have endless movie marathons. It's one of the happy memories she remembered from her past.

She always cherished those moments with her mom. Life at home may have been hell, but her mother's spirit did not once break. She was so strong and brave. She was kind and loved with all her heart. Iris always wondered if she would ever be half the woman her mom was or the fact that would her mother be proud of the way Iris turned out to be.

Guess we will never know.

Her pager beeped and she looked down to see what it said. 'Report to the nurses station on the fourth floor. Your lawyer is here.'

Huh, that's strange. Thomas said that he won't come till next week..

Shrugging off her doubts she started heading to the fourth floor. She walked down the long, empty hallway whistling. It was just a front but deep down, she had a feeling that she was being watched. She turned to look behind but there was no one following her.

You are just being paranoid Iris...

But isn't it better to be safe than sorry?

She turned the corner and she collided with someone.

"Oh, I am so sorry-" Iris said as she backed a little and straightened her scrubs. She then looked up and she was completely frozen. She felt as if she was sucker punched in the gut. All the breath left her body.

He was here.

"Oh no its my- Oh." A cruel smile slowly etched into his face. He had aged, which was pretty obvious but prison made him look rugged with white hair peppering his balding head and his eyes looked more maniacal.

"Hello mija."

She had dreamt their encounter many times before. How she would punch the fuck out of his face, and break his left wrist, the way he used to break hers. She would beat him up so hard that he would end up in the emergency room. Those imaginations were so graphic, that she could taste the blood of that monster on the tip of her tongue.

But, at the end of the day it was only fantasy. Dreams are those tantalizing flames, which help keep the fire in us alive, while reality on the other hand, is a bucket of cold water, smothering those flames.

She just stood there in shock. It felt as if her head had been dunked into water. She saw his lips move and the people walking around them, but she couldn't hear a thing. Her breath was getting shorter and shorter. She felt weak. Pathetic. Just like the sixteen year old who lay there on the floor, awaiting her death.

No, no, no, I can't go into a panic attack right now.

"IRIS!!" Grayson shook her shoulders. "NO! Get the fuck away from me asshole!" Iris said as she tried to push him away. She felt like a bucket of maggots had been poured inside her shirt. She felt dirty, filthy and gross.

"Iris what has come over you sweetheart? You weren't like this before.." Grayson said, his face morphed into fake concern but she could see the anger and the bloodlust shining in his hazel eyes.

"Don't TOUCH ME!!" She exclaimed as she finally got him to take his grubby hands off her. And he had the audacity to act hurt. This bitch should get a fucking award for his acting.

"Hey, hey, hey." Ethan stepped between the father and daughter. "Sir, I will have to ask you to back away right this instance." Ethan said, in a voice so cold, that it could have withered a blooming flower.

Grayson held his"There is nothing going around here son. Just a father and daughter reconnecting after a decade. Ain't that mija?"

"Don't listen to him. He is a world class manipulator and a habitual liar. Get him the fuck out of here." Iris spat out, her voice poisonous.

Ethan turned to look at her, his eyes asking if this was the man who she had a restraining order against. Iris nodded subtly.

"I'm sorry sir, but you are causing a scene in a hospital, where people are sick and they need the quiet."

"No problem so- what's your name?"

Don't tell him, don't tell him, don't-

"Dr. Ethan Ramsey."

GODDAMMIT ETHAN. Just can't keep his fucking trap shut. She knew, that he would come for Ethan.

"Well Ethan, I don't mean to cause any problems. I am just here to take my girlie for a coffee.. have a chat." He smiled in a friendly way but, everybody knows that the term 'chat' means thrashing.

"I SAID NO. I don't want anything to do with you asswipe."

"How dare you-" Grayson's face twisted into a furious scowl. Iris just cowered behind Ethan.

"Sir, with all due respect, leave." Ethan said as two security guards started moving towards them.

"Alright, alright. There is no need to be so aggressive. I am nothing but a old man. What would I do? Beat up someone?" The last question directed towards Iris, his eyes gleaming. A chill went down her back, out of intense fear.

"I will meet you soon mija... And when we will.... we will have all the time in the world to catch up."

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Running.

Iris ran down the hallway, to a place where she could have some damn peace and quiet, which is kind of hard in a hospital crawling with patients, doctors and the grim reaper.

Her breath was getting frantic, and the need to breakdown was increasing with every step she took.

Get a hold of yourself Iris. It's just a little longer. You don't need to be a mess in front of him. You don't need him to have that power over you. Iris repeated that as a mantra as she half walked, half ran down the never-ending hallway, away from her haunting past.

She was just crossing the nurses' station where, Aurora stood, reading through her charts.

God, please don't notice me. I don't have it in me to face another heartbreak. Iris prayed.

A few nurses greeted her, and Iris nodded and smiled politely before her eyes landed on Aurora's cool, calculating ones. She quickly averted her eyes away, so that she would not betray the inner turmoil in her.

But, Aurora knew. Iris had that look in her eyes as if she would shatter like a porcelain vase. So, she shut her chart and followed the red head.

Iris had reached the lift, pressing the button continuosly, so that it could hurry the hell up. After what seemed like an eternity, it finally came and she stepped into the elevator. She pressed the button leading her to the basement.

There is a old on call room which is pretty faraway from the hospital's main rooms. So even if she broke things, screamed and howled, nobody would know.

She saw the doors closing and she let out a tired breath when Aurora nimbly slipped into the lift.

Can't I catch a fucking break?

"What happened, Iris? Seems like you saw a ghost. You look hella pale." Aurora asked as she leaned in the wall across Iris.

Iris grimaced. If only she knew that she was not very faraway from the truth.

"Nothing." She said as she looked down at the floor.

"I know it's not nothing, Adara." Aurora said quietly. Iris' eyes snapped up.

"Aurora please. Just let me be." Iris pleaded, looking up at the screen showing that she had just reached the second floor.

"Don't fucking lie to me.Something is going on, I can see it in your eyes." Aurora said as she stepped and stood before her.

She placed her hands on her cheeks, forcing her green eyes to meet with her dark brown ones. "Please tell me Adara. Please let me in. Please don't shut me out this time."

"Aurora....I don't want to hurt you. I am cursed. Don't waste tears on a dead woma-" She said as tears filled her eyes.

The lift shuddered to a stop. And it was dark for a moment before the emergency lights switched on. She turned towards Aurora, who was slowly realizing the situation they were stuck in.

The lift was stuck and so were the both of them. And this time, there was no escaping for Iris.

I had to type and retype this so many times because it just didn't feel perfect..

Anyways, the next chapter will be the finale and after that will be the epilogue. I am so excited ;)

like and reblog :)) let me know what you think

#choices #choices oh #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices stories we play #pixelberry #open heart #open heart mc #open heart 2 #ohsy #open heart fanfiction #aurora emery #aurora x mc #oh aurora

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yaachtynoboat711 · 5 years

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Fonder 5.1

A/N: I AM SOOO SORRY FOR THE HIATUS! I missed you guys. The secret’s finally out! The mystery of Mr. Gatsby’s identity is being revealed! There may be smut included in this chapter also. Thanks @babygirlofwakanda for helping me out with that! Lastly, the italics (besides the sounds) are Yaa’s inner thoughts. 😬😬😬😬😬 Reblog and like!

Word Count: Get your popcorn ready (~3.5k)

Warning(s): SMUT, slow burn, plot progression, introduction of a new character, few errors/typos

NEW YEAR’S EVE 10:34 p.m.

“I-I-...I don’t understand. It was you all along...but you’d just hopped in my DM’s right before I got here!”, Yaa attempted to collect the thoughts that had scattered on the floor.

Gatsby chuckled, “ Yeah, I know. It’s ok to be confused. I’m the last person you’d expect it to be, I’m sure.”

“So why me? All these fine Hollywood jawns and wannabe socialites rippin their own panties off just to get to you...and you choose the one non-celebrity on the other side of the country?”

Gatsby sipped some champagne as he listened to Yaa, nodding his head as he began mentally creating his response to her outlandish claim. He finally sat his fluted glass down on the desk.

“Not to sound like a creep, but ever since Tanisha told me about her bomb ass lawyer friend, I’ve had my eyes on you. Don’t worry; I haven’t been that close. I learned enough about you to still have many questions left over to ask you. You’re a complex and multi-faceted woman that deserves to be exalted. Plus, from what I’ve also heard, you’ve been eyeing me too. Why’d you think the riddles and passwords were how they were?”

He was right: she’d had her eyes, heart, and womanhood set on him for years. It began way back in the summer of 2002. Her almost 12-year-old self had no business watching anything graphic and raw, yet alone watching The Wire. Her parents encouraged to watch it surprisingly. Then it happened—he came on the TV. Though she hated cornrows, even in the early 2000s, she found herself head over heels for the peanut head with the cornrows—Wallace. She hated the fact that he was a teenage drug dealer but hell, that was life in the Pit. The season finale left her distraught, crying for days as though he’d broken up with her or something. She followed his work and had proclaimed her love for him for 12 years and now here he was—Michael B. Jordan—standing before her explaining how he wanted her. Funny how life works.

She burst into a fit of nervous laughter; he joined.

“What’s so funny, Yaa?”, Michael asked.

She subdued her laughter as much as she could. “I’m laughing because I know this has to be a drawn-out prank or some shit. The man I’ve been mentally dating half of my life isn’t in front of me right now, and he damn sure ain’t telling me he finna risk it all for me. Not against his own will at least.”, she stammered.

He raised an eyebrow at her disbelief. His shoulders bounced as his cocky grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, you think this is a game? Hmm?” He kneeled down and lifted her chin for her honey brown eyes to meet his calming dark brown eyes. “Talk to me.”

She nodded her head yes. “Show me this isn’t a game.”, she challenged.

“Say less.”

He lifted her chin some more. He went in for the kiss—an offer easily accepted. Jackpot. There was a jolt of electricity between their lips. As their kiss deepened, his hands held gently her neck, lightly brushing against her coarse honey blonde locs. Her arms linked tightly around his neck. His hands scooped under her large ass, picking her up and causing her to break the kiss. Her eyes flew open as she began looking down at the floor. The second time she’d been picked up and the skinny nigga was the one on the cusp of changing her life. Her embrace around Michael’s neck tightened significantly as she braced for an abrupt drop.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”, Michael teased.

“Last time I was picked up, I couldn’t dance for a month. You’re scaring the shit outta me.”, she sputtered.

There went that cocky,raspy laugh. Michael dropped her down and quickly caught her before she could get anywhere near the ground. “Oh, so you scared the skinny nigga can’t hang? C’mon now. You should know I’ve been waiting on you for a minute. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, baby girl. Best believe that.”, he reassured. With that being said, he walked confidently across the room to the couch with his scared thick lawyer in tow, carrying her 200+ pound frame like she was a bag of nothing. That Creed training made him a monster.

He stared into her eyes once again in awe. In such a simple expression, there was enough fire and passion in her eyes to light up the fireplace across the room. He slowly gave her lips more kisses, savoring them like the last of a 5-star meal.

“You got all of these sweet kisses, girl.”, he groaned, “Must’ve been saving them for a special reason or someone.” Not by choice, baby boy.

“I’ve waited for a long time for this”, she chuckled into his lips. Knock knock knock.

Michael’s head dropped and Yaa looked up into the dimmed lights palming her face, both clearly frustrated with the mood-killing visitor at the door.

“Who is it?”, Michael yelled as he re-adjusted his black double-breasted tux and bow tie. He walked towards the door, still awaiting a response.

“Me, nigga!”, the nearly hoarse voice replied defensively.

Michael smacked his teeth and opened the door. “The fuck you want, Steelo?”

“Mannnnn, it’s almost 2015! Folks lookin’ for you an- oh, heyyyyy how you doin’? I’m Steelo.”, he slurred. His attention was suddenly brought to the clearly annoyed Yaa.

“I know who you are. Nice to finally meet you.”, Yaa said.

He redirected his intoxicated “focus” back to his best friend. He’d recognized Yaa. “Hold up, that’s her?”

“Yeah, that’s Khalida, the lawyer. We’ll be out in a sec—”

“—YOOOOOO! She bad as fuck,bruh. Thick too? Niggggggaaaaaaa...I heard them fat jawns be changin’ liv—”

Without saying a word, Michael pushed his drunk best friend out the door like a dolly and locked the door. “Look, he’s drunk as fuck and I’m sorry that h—”, Michael apologized.

Khalida placed two fingers over his lips. “Fat isn’t a bad word. No need to apologize. Now, come on— we have a new year to celebrate.”, she replied.

Michael’s deep dimples and smile stretched across his face as he watched Khalida walk out of the door. “You comin’ or not, Gatsby?”, she teased.

11:09 p.m.

By the time Yaa returned to the action, there were more faces—famous faces—in the crowd. All in attendance were dressed to the nines with their CRISP finger waves, feathers, furs, pearls, and enough cigarette holders for an old Hollywood film. Yaa walked to her VIP section to find her best friend Tanisha lit off of her spirit of choice—Bombay Sapphire gin. Steelo and some of Michael’s other friends had joined her in the booth. Tanisha sashayed to her friend to greet her.

“BIIIIIIITCCCCCCCCHHH! Where the FUCK have you been?”, an impaired Neesh questioned.

“I was talking to Gatsby. You literally saw me leave. Second, I’m finna beat yo ass.”, Khalida yelled over the music.

Tanisha stepped back and put her hands up. “What for?”

“You know why. Gatsby ends up being my childhood crush?! Howwwww in the hell were you able to pull that off?”

“Sis...just know that I got the connect. Now shut up and drink--we gotta New Year to ring in.”

Without further protest, Yaa opened the new bottle of D’usse and poured it into her glass. A few glasses and three tequila shots later, she was feeling nice. Not drunk, but nice, tipsy at most. She’d stepped out of her shell of skepticism and began socializing a lot more.

During the course of the night, Michael and Yaa had been getting cozy with each other. They never left each other’s side. They exchanged flirty looks and “you goods?” When they weren’t refilling cups in the VIP section, they were deep in conversation, topics varied as their sobriety faded away. Then, it happened: his curious hand trailed northbound on her leg. Usually, Yaa would smack the taste out of any man’s mouth for feeling up on her, sober or drunk. But let’s face it: she was feeling him and it was obvious the feeling was mutual. She bit her lip and winked at him in response.

“So we just gon’ pretend like yo whole hand ain’t up my dress?”, Yaa playfully questioned.

“Yup.”, Michael replied with a grin. He was so proud of himself. “Finally able to get my hands on you.”

Yaa rolled her eyes. “Don’t getcha skinny ass hurt fuckin around.”

She got up, leaving him awestruck at her model-like walk.

“10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Gold and silver confetti and balloons fell from the sky. Cheers from every corner of the room paired with the popping of champagne corks. Yaa hugged Tanisha and kissed cheeks in celebration of the New Year. Yaa felt two taps to the right shoulder. Ready to curse, Yaa whipped her body around to see that the tapper was none other than Michael. He rubbed the back of his neck and flashed his smile, revealing his pair of ridiculously adorable deep dimples.

“I-uh...know we kinda just met like an hour and a half ago...but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind having the honor of sharing this New Year’s ki—”. Yaa grabbed him up by his lapel and kissed him passionately, yet drunkenly. She laughed.

“Happy New Year to you too, Kari. Sorry, but I’ve always wanted to call you that.”, she laughed.

1:47 a.m.

Thud. For all it’s worth, Yaa’s back as going to be sore for the next couple of days from the impact of hitting her back against her chest of drawers. She also couldn’t have given half a fuck about her neck or her back. Hell, sis was finally getting dick. The more violent her and Michael’s tongues were becoming in each other’s mouths, the more familiar their hands were becoming with each other’s clothes and bodies. Still focused on his Dom Perignon-flavored kisses, her hands anxiously searched for his belt. But before she could unbuckle his pants, the D’usse demon jumped out. She smirked seductively as she boldly grabbed his print and freed herself from his arms.

“Oh shit.”, he mumbled, “So, you nasty nasty.”

The devilish smirk she gave was all the response he needed. She slowly got on her knees and freed his dick from the constraints of his pants, licking its length on both sides. Her head bobbed to the beat of the music playing in her head. Watching her bob on his dick, he began undoing the bottom of her chignon so that the rest of her hair wouldn’t get in the way of his undoing.

Thud. His head went against the wall as his undoing was becoming apparent. He cursed under his breath and kept his bottom row of teeth tucked underneath his bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud. Yaa would have cared less for his current state. She continued to slurp and coat his rock-hard member with spit. Keeping eye contact, Yaa continued licking him like a melting popsicle. He growled to keep from moaning, along with a chorus of “Shit” being recited under his breath.

Forever came to an end as Yaa slowly got off of her knees. He helped her up, only to be blindsided by her sloppy kisses. She began walking backwards with him towards the king-sized bed but stopped at the edge of the bed.

He placed her on the edge of the bed. Michael kissed her lips gently and slowly began to make his way to her promised land. His kisses became wet as he made his way down to her neck—her spot. He kissed her collarbone tattoo, licked his way down to her large breasts, and paused at her nipples. With his hands now caressing her breast, he wrapped his tongue around her nipple and began sucking with enough pressure to make her moan. While he sucked on her nipple like a pacifier, Michael dropped his hand from hoisting up her other breast and began to timidly creep his fingers down her baby-soft skin and the scrunched fabric of her dress. Feeling his hand touch over her thigh, he began to aggressively pull up the bottom of her dress. There was a slight discoloration created on her skin from the irritation from the material being forced against it, but Michael didn’t stop until the bottom of her dress pooled around her stomach. Once he realized where the material had settled, he pulled his lips from around Yaa’s areola, fixating his eyes on her lower half. Quickly noticing that she was panty-less, he felt a smirk tug at his lips--better--he peered up at his flushed lover. “So that’s how you rollin’, huh?”, he questioned as he slowly rolled his bottom lip underneath his teeth before winking up at Yaa and sinking to his knees. Staring at the awe-striking sight of her glistening folds, Michael admired the intimate view as he could replay the numerous times he tried to capture this very image many a late night.

He pushed her legs further apart until her kneecaps were damn near touching the mattress before trailing his way up her inner thighs. Placing soft, gentle kisses and occasional nibbles against her hot skin, he increased his pressure, making her feel the individual pricks of his coarse facial hair making Yaa a squirmy, wet mess. Timidly reaching her glory, Michael brought his hands up and steadily separated her lower lips with both of his thumbs before pressing his mouth forward. “Looks like someone’s been waiting on me.”, he said with a cocky confidence.

Chest rapidly rising and falling, Yaa couldn’t form a coherent word, phrase, or sentence. She gulped heavily before rolling her head back as Michael’s lips connected to her folds. She gripped the sheets up as his tongue controlled her every move. He finally licked her wet opening with a flat tongue going from the bottom to the top. His tongue was a weapon— it was both long and thick. He licked his name on her bud—slowly torturing her it with every dip, twist, turn, curve, and dot of each letter in his name. He then inserted two of his thick fingers into her opening as he licked the letter "C" and began pumping his fingers at a moderate pace. Desperately panting from his actions, Yaa began to shriek once she felt Gatsby toy with her clit. This raggedy ass nigga finna suck you dry and ain’t shit you can do about it at this point.

His fingers picked up the pace the moment he noticed her unraveling, his tongue explored deeper into her womanhood. She struggled to feel for the nearest pillow, but when she found it, she quasi-covered her mouth to subdue her moans of pleasure.

The sounds of Yaa’s hitched breathing and impending sexual eruption ricocheted throughout the master bedroom. Her back was arched completely off of the bed and she held a firm grasp of his head. If it wasn’t a moan or gasp, Yaa let out a “fuck”, “shit”, or an “Oh Lorddddddd.” Hearing Yaa unravel brought Michael much pleasure—the match to his sexual fire. He occasionally laughed at her undoing; he finally had the object of his affection under his mercy, quivering at his touch. Right as he could feel the pressure change for her release, he pulled his fingers and tongue away from her now swollen bud. She quickly leaned up on her elbows to see why he was stupid enough to pull out right as she was about to release. He smiled maliciously as his soaked fingers neared his mouth. “Nuh-uh. I gotta taste this first, it makes the kisses taste sweeter.”, Michael explained as he slapped her hand away from his. Bitch, no the fuck he didn’t! The two locked eyes as he sucked his two drenched fingers like he’d just ate the last extra wet lemon pepper wing.

He motioned for her to sit up. Before he could even ask, Yaa leaned in to taste her sweet essence on his tongue. A shiver shot down his spine as her candy apple colored nail gently traveled down his back. Their kiss led to Yaa laying on her back once again. Michael bit his lip as he hovered over her. He snatched her by her ankle to the edge of the bed, sliding himself between her legs. “Missionary’s a bold first choice, don’t you think?”, Yaa asked as she handed him a condom. He chuckled, “Nah. I’m just tryna see sumn, that’s all.”

His thumb rubbed against her wet clit as his girthy member slowly entered her tight, slippery entrance. Yaa inhaled sharply as she felt her body tremble and his thick length push against her tight bounds. “Fuck!” She cursed, as she felt him move slow trying to feel each and every ridge of her plush opening. Their fingers intertwined within each other as he went further into her. The lustful gaze into her honey eyes only intensified the overwhelming sensation of euphoria emanating from her core. With her back now arched completely off the bed, her new position gave him more room to dig deeper into her guts. Her mouth was agape as she tried to breathe through her stimulation. His rhythm steadily increased with every stroke.

Watching Yaa’s scrunched facial expression, Michael moved his hands to grip her waist as he quickened his pace. Taking his off of her face for a second to peek at their connection as he smirked at the sticky surface of his and hers wet organs. With the erotic scene unfolding before him, Michael slowly rolled his bottom lip underneath his teeth once the sounds of their moist skin slapping against each other reached his ears. She was helpless—her eyes burned from the tears of pleasure and she struggled to grip onto the gold link chain that dangled from his neck. Her moans and whimpers continued to fuel his drive. Chuckling darkly at her body’s responsiveness he said, “Yea, this is that shit I was talking bout. Just listen to that shit speaking out to me, fuck.” before fluttering his eyes closed and pounding into her.

3:34 a.m.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound of the headboard repeatedly being knocked against the wall served as a light sound buffer to Michael and Yaa’s moaning. Michael’s thick hand applied the perfect amount of pressure around her neck as he continued to deliver those dangerous strokes. Just as they were able to sync their rhythms, he pulled out. This nigga done lost his Black ass mind. She opened her mouth to complain, only to be interrupted by the sudden shift from her back to her tummy. “On your knees. Now.”, he commanded as he smacked her ass. She as she was told—only to be rewarded with the reunion of his lips to her lower lips. No, he didn’t, bitch! The byke?! He eatin’ it from the muhfuckin’ byke?! This is Daddy!! Fuck a Winston,chile. His alternating kissing and sucking on her swollen bud caused her to fall flat on her stomach from the overstimulation. His hand went underneath her to lift her back up. He centered himself before sliding his member back into her. He slowly increased his tempo as he twisted her locs into his fist.

Yaa’s voice was hoarse. Had been hoarse half an hour ago. She had been depleted of any common sense she’d thought she had and was running on adrenaline. Michael, though appearing to be the victor of the night’s bout, was still at odds with his challenger. She was tired but still fighting like hell. He sweated profusely—like a champ battling it out in the 11th round. She wasn’t going down with a fight. He flipped her around one last time. This time, he pinned her legs past her ears—a position that both were surprised by.

“You ain’t tappin’ out?”, he asked between pumps

“Why and you about to tap out yourself? Let’s tap out at the same time since you so damn excited.”, the raspy-voiced Yaa boldly replied.

“Aight, say less.”

He went into overdrive. He quickly moved her legs from near her ears to around his waist. Not even two minutes later, the pair released within seconds of each other,his body collapsing onto hers.

“Don’t move.”, Michael whispered in Yaa’s ear as he tried to get himself together.

She shook her head. “Bitch, I don’t wanna move.” She paused, “Actually, I need to finish wash my face. Move.”

The moment both feet landed on the ground, gravity betrayed her. Her knee gave out, causing to limp and almost fall. Thankfully, Michael’s body was turned away from her. After returning from the bathroom, she limped to the bed. Oh, heating pads are the move all day today. This was the beginning of something different, and what a way to begin a new beginning than on New Year’s Day?

A/N: Yeah, sorry for the trash ending. I got too impatient.

I’m in the kitchen, TAGS ERRYWHERE!

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @ljstraightnochaser @chaneajoyyy @thememoireeofme @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#thefonderseries #winston x yaa #winston duke x oc #destinedtobeduke #dukeandthedoctor

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mikayfics18 · 5 years

Text

Visions of Winter

Chapter 2

A/N: Okay soooo it’s been about two or three years?😅 But hey! I wrote chapter two. I’m going to try to be more adamant about writing and posting this story. Life got in the way for awhile, but I’m determined to keep my creative juices flowing!! Any feedback on this would be lovely🤗

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader wakes up in Bucky’s apartment after the night before, not knowing if she should follow through with what has been asked of her.

Warning: fluff, some swearing, implied sexy times

Words: 1.9k

Read chapter 1 here

You can't recall if it was the sounds of city life below, or the pull of strong, comforting arms holding you closer that woke you up first, but either way, you were content with where you awoke to. It was much better than the reality of your night terrors that were surprisingly absent all night.

You peek down, observing the veins that danced across Bucky's forearm that was lazily curled around your hip, not being able to help the slight hitch of your heartbeat. As you gently trace random patterns over the back of his hand with your fingers, you can't help but think, Even the simplest things about him are so perfect. A soft noise behind you told you he was just waking up.

You smile as he pulls you closer to him with a soft mumble, "Mmmmmmorning, (y/n)."

"Haha, good morning... I'm surprised you remembered the right name," you joke.

"Hey," he chuckles, "of course I did. Don't be a brat."

You let out a little squeal as he nuzzles his nose behind your ear. "No! Don't make me laugh! I have to go pee so bad."

Bucky snorts and releases you from his cuddly clutches. "Fine, fine! Go pee. I'll start making breakfast."

You quickly climb out of the tangle of blankets and pillows and make your way to the bathroom on the opposite wall of the complex while Bucky sat up to stretch his arms over his head. You can’t help but glance back at him and blush as his navy blue T-shirt rode up mid-stretch, ever so slightly showing the tantalizing V-shape of his hip muscles. Spinning your head back around before he notices - (he definitely noticed) - you walk into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you with a huff.

Why am I so nervous? Oh yeah, probably cuz I have no alcohol in me, you think to yourself with a groan.

After freshening yourself up (thank god, Bucky owns mouth wash), you put both hands on either side of his sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Okay, calm down. Caaaalm down, (y/n). He's just another guy. A dude. No need to be so fidgety right now. You couldn’t help it though, something about him caught you off guard and you weren’t quite sure why. You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror, making sure you looked somewhat decent so early in the morning. There were still some remnants of mascara and eyeliner smudged around your eyes, but it was better than what you’ve woken up looking like in the past. A shudder went down your spine as some memories played for a split second in your mind, but you shake your head to wish them away as you spin on your heel and head for the door.

Bucky was humming a random tune as you entered the open space, the smells and sounds of eggs cooking filling your senses. You breathe in deep, shut your eyes, and let out a sigh, once again thinking how nice a scenario like this would be to have every morning. Opening your eyes again, you lock with piercing blue ones as they sparkle from the soft smile playing on the man’s face they belonged to.

“I hope you like eggs, doll,” Bucky says to you as he stirs the food in the skillet, his eyes not leaving yours.

You felt the heat go to your ears again at the simple, welcoming site before you. A stranger you barely knew, yet felt like you had some connection to somehow, was contently making you breakfast. The sun was peeking through the tall windows, sending a soft, golden glow across the room that finally rested on the scene in the kitchen. It felt almost like a dream to you the way the warm light danced across Bucky’s skin and made his eyes and smile glimmer - it was almost too much.

“Y-yes,” you finally breathed out. “Eggs are perfect.”

*****************

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day? Will you be staying in town long or?” You hear Bucky ask from the kitchen table behind you. You were rinsing off your plate - which he insisted he would take care of, but you already felt guilty for eating his food and using his clothes as is. You could tell he was trying to sound casual, but as you put the plate away and turned to look at him, his eyes said another story. It still caught you off guard how vulnerable his eyes made him - they told you everything on his mind that you needed to know without hesitation. There was no poker face with Bucky Barnes.

You sigh and reply with, “I’m not sure if I’m being honest.” You weren’t being honest. You knew what you were there for. You knew the job HE sent you there to do. But after all this, you felt like you might hate yourself if you follow through. Especially after staying with the man you were assigned to kill. “I was only planning on being here for a couple of days.”

Bucky looked down as he nodded, lips pursing in thought. He didn’t want to be rude and keep you from doing whatever it was that you were in the city for, but for whatever reason, he felt like he would be giving up on something potentially amazing if he let you slip away forever now. “Would you like to come dancing with me and Stevie tonight? I understand if you have other plans. But if I’m being honest here, I really enjoyed my time with you so far and I’d love to legitimately take you out on a more fun experience than playing card games with two dorks in a dingy bar,” he says, chuckling at the last part.

Once again, those honest, grey-blue eyes were pleadingly staring at you and you inwardly curse yourself at being so weak. The more you’re around him getting to know him, the harder it will be to finish the job. You give him a small smile, feigning indecisiveness, then finally say, “Sure, I’d love to. But I have to get back to my place first to get ready for such a fun night.”

If Bucky could grin from ear to ear, he would have. “Understandable! I’ll call you a cab and text you what time I’ll be picking you up.” He stands up and walks over to you, stopping only a few inches away. With him this close, it’s very obvious the height difference between you and the man you’re looking up at. He lifts one hand up, cupping the curve between the back of your neck and skull gently. “Besides,” he murmurs, eyes drifting over the features of your face, “sober me still hasn’t gotten the chance to do this.” He finally pulls you in, closing the gap between your faces. His mouth is delicate on yours at first - in stark contrast to what happened last night - testing the waters as he glides his tongue tentatively across your bottom lip. It’s your turn to make the next move, and you take it readily, cupping both sides of his face and pressing your whole body into his. You shudder feeling the heat radiate off him as he lets out a quiet groan and pulls you in further.

Bucky lifts you up onto the kitchen counter, breaking the contact between you two for only a moment as he pulls his shirt over his head, and then he’s back to making your mind go blank the way his mouth moves against yours. Your hands travel up his broad chest, feeling the curve of his lean muscles under your fingertips. He shivers at your touch, and it makes you wonder how else he might react to other things you could do. You decide to move your mouth away from his and attach it to the right side of his neck, just under his chin.

“F-fucking hell, (Y/N),” he growls as he tilts his head further to the side while you nip and suck at that sweet spot. That language sends a wave of electricity to your core and you’re not sure how patient you can be anymore. You pull away from him, smirking at the disappointed noise he makes, but his expression turns carnal the second you pull your own shirt over your head. You don’t sleep with a bra on, so this view was much different from the red lacy one he saw the night before. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, and this time your heart skips a beat because you know he means it.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you demand with a sigh, and he follows suit with his chest once again pressed up against yours and hands pulling at your bottoms.

It’s not like you hadn’t joined in lewd practices for a job before, hadn’t heard all the sounds Bucky made and words he said before from other men, hadn’t enjoyed the moment before. Most of the time, it was part of the job - to get the target comfortable with you; to make them let down their guard; to trust you. But this was different, and this was dangerous because it was intoxicating. Being with this man like this was making you dislike the fact that he needed to be dead within the next 24 hours, per the order of the leader of your Hydra division.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault he heard what he did five days ago, but that didn’t matter to Hydra. They knew a soldier of theirs had gone to Bucky’s bar and gotten a little too loose with his words the more he drank. Bucky didn’t seem to mind - why would he? He was used to all sorts of stories from people that couldn’t stop themselves from revealing all of their secrets to a man that came off so welcoming and unprejudiced towards what was said. Half the time, he wasn’t really listening, lost in his own thoughts while he cleaned the glasses and poured more drinks. He got into the habit of nodding along and chiming in here and there where his words seemed fit. So when this undercover Hydra agent came into his bar, somewhat distraught and now uncaring with the secrets he swore to keep, Bucky thought no different of it. The man slipped into German the more he drank, so it wasn’t like Bucky could even understand that the agent was spilling all their plans for world domination. Even so, Bucky was now a liability to the group, and liabilities needed to be dealt with one way or another.

That’s where you came in - an orphan girl, found on the streets of New York at seven years old. That seemed like a lifetime ago, after they took you in and trained you to be the deadly woman you were today. In fact, you were the one that found the betraying agent and put an end to his now worthless life just hours before you walked into said bar. You were always robotic with your actions, with your missions. If they could tell you were slipping up and becoming soft, they had all sorts of ways to snap you out of it, ways that made you never want to feel another emotion again. Yet there you were, getting lost in stormy-skied eyes and the roll of his hips, losing whatever control you had left.

#bucky imagine #bucky x reader #buck fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky and steve #marvel fanfic #bucky fic #steve rogers #steve x reader #captain america #visions of winter #winter soldier #bucky fluff #mikayfics

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a-random-viking-blog · 5 years

Text

Loki’s Therapy

this is a short piece I did as part of the writing exercises from Neil Gaiman's art of storytelling masterclass, so without further ado, I give you Loki’s therapy

Intorductions and Baldur's death

“This is going to be an unusual client.” Dr Fliberwitz thought to himself, he had been going down steps deeper into the earth for almost twenty minutes. He had first suspected something was off when he had been told to meet the client at a cave, but the money was good so Fliberwitz had agreed without question, in hindsight that had been a bad idea.

Upon thinking this, he noticed an ear piercing screaming coming from a little further down, Fliberwitz increased his pace down the stairs, in a rush, he slipped on the damp rocky steps and fell down the last few stairs.

Upon recovering from the fall, he looked around, it was not a huge room, but it was still a sizeable cavern. He could just about see the opposite walls in the dim torchlight, with a pale silhouette moving against it, but this was something to think about later. His eyes were drawn to the source of the scream, a man, chained to a rock in the centre of the room. A snake's head barely visible in the darkness above him, Fliberwitz stood watching in shock as a drop of venom slid slowly down the snake’s fang, and fell almost, to Fliberwitz at least, in slow motion, followed immediately by a blood-curdling scream.

Dr Fliberwitz hurried over “Don’t worry I’ll get you out” he said, panic clear in his voice.

“Its pointless” came a breathless reply in between the agonised screams. Fliberwitz couldn't stand to see someone in such a torturous position and tried his best to undo the chains, as he fumbled he stopped as the silhouetted figure drew closer. Upon closer inspection, he could make out a feminine figure carrying a bowl, which moved swiftly towards the man chained to the rock.

As the bowl was held over his head protecting him from the dripping venom, the screaming quickly subsided and once the man was calm, he turned to Dr Fliberwitz coughed and said “sorry for your rather lacklustre welcome, but as you can see I’m hardly in a position to welcome guests. So you must be that therapist Odin demanded I speak to, not like I have much choice in the matter, and after a few millennia in this cave, it is a welcome distraction”

“Wait, Odin?” Fliberwitz inquired.

“Yes our magnanimous king and the one whos whole idea this fun little prank is…” the chained man replied

“So does this mean that your Loki?” asked Fliberwitz

“Wow, I can see why Odin sent you, a real genius… yes i am he, Loki god of fire and mischief, in all my glory, and this is my wife, Sigyn” as Loki said this Sigyn, took a hand off the bowl to wave, spilling a small drop of venom onto Loki’s face eliciting a short scream. “ I guess you're here to ask me about my feelings and my childhood so I can have a breakthrough and a cry and then you get to go away feeling smug that you helped a god, what a wonderful human you are…”

“We can talk about your feelings and your childhood if you want, but I figured you’d rather talk about stories, and if you'd like to share it, I'd like to hear yours. Afterall I’m sure there's more to it than us mere mortals have heard”

“Carry on playing to my ego and I might even begin to like you.” Loki said a hint of surprise detectable in the layers of sarcasm and spite. “Fine I’ll tell you, but only because I’m bored. Afterall being chained a rock for centuries is far from the most exciting pastime.”

“So it all began a long time ago, in a happier time for everyone, and as many of the best stories, it began with a simple prank. Baldur was having some crazy nightmares, he was getting so upset that he was losing his mind, it was hilarious. But true to form Odin and Frigga couldn't see the hilarity of it. As this went on over the weeks and months, Baldur got more and more disturbed, it was the most interesting golden boy had ever been. But Frigga disagreed, she decided she had to do something, and off she went. A few weeks later she returned, making this crazy claim that everything had promised not to harm Baldur. Now I know a lie when I hear one, I've told so many myself that I can the moment I hear one, unless it’s told with as much charm as i do. So I felt the need to find out just what she was lying about, whilst the rest of the gods got to work having fun throwing things at Baldur and watching them stop before hitting him or just bouncing off. The things that amuse those mindless brutes.”

Fliberwitz let out a small chuckle, Loki smiled wryly and continued “Frigga has always been a doting mother, so the best way to wrangle the truth out of her was to pretend to be a doting mother too, so I took the form of a lovely little old lady, and decided to have a chat with her.

I asked her “Did all things swear oaths to spare Baldur from harm?” “Oh, yes,” the goddess replied, “everything except the mistletoe. But the mistletoe is so small and innocent a thing that I felt it superfluous to ask it for an oath. What harm could it do to my son?” and in that moment I knew exactly what I should do.

I quickly hurried to Midgard, it didn’t take me long to locate a small bush of mistletoe, and it was a small plant, but not so small that I couldn’t make a few little darts from it, but I knew it couldn’t be the one to throw them, so I had to find a patsy.

Upon my return to Asgard, the blundering oafs where still amusing themselves with their simplistic games of throwing things at Baldur, almost all the gods were joining in, almost all, that was when i found the perfect patsy” a twisted smile formed on Loki's face. “Sat in the corner alone was Hodr, Baldur's brother, left out of the festivities as Baldur was the only one who ever bothered trying to bring him into things, and with Baldur occupied no one was paying him the slightest bit of attention. With such a perfect fall guy how could I not go through with my plan?

I approached Hodr, and at first he was suspicious, I guess I’ve always had a bit of a reputation, if anything it only puts the blame further on him for trusting me, the fool, but quickly I made him believe that I wanted only to help him enjoy the festivities with the other brutes, then he argued that he was blind how could he possibly join in the fun. So I presented him with my freshly made darts, and told him that i would guide his hand, he would be part of the fun, joining in with the celebration of his brothers new found immortality. It was near impossible for me to hide my grin, luckily with him being blind and the other gods distracted, it didn’t really matter. I lead him over, placed a dart in his hand, guided him to aim for the heart, and then the moment he threw it, I made myself scarce, after all I didn’t want to make it too obvious what I’d done, also tricking Hodr into killing his brother and Odin's most beloved son, I almost wet myself laughing!” Loki chuckled Fliberwitz forced a smile “so there’s clearly more to this story did you not feel any guilt about this?”

“Not in the slightest” Loki replied “after all this had been my greatest prank to date, but it turned out there were still plenty of chances to milk more fun out of this”

“So what happened?” inquired Fliberwitz

“Well obviously Odin and frig were distraught and they desperately tried to bring Baldur back, and soIi had to fuck with them. They dispatched a rider to bargain with my daughter Hel. Now Hel is fair, but she is not exactly fond of Odin, so she offered a deal, if everything in the 9 realms showed their grief for the loss of Baldur, in the form of a tear, she would release him from the underworld. Now this would be too obvious if I didn’t cry, but trickery is my speciality so I formed a plan, i let their riders go forth and once they were almost done i took the form of an old giantess crone and waited for them in a cave. Upon the entrance of the riders, they begged for me to shed a tear for Baldur, and naturally i simply refused, they begged and begged, but i did not budge, and they left defeated to return to Asgard with news of their failings. Once they were out of earshot, i laughed so hard! It was the perfect revenge for what they did to my kids.

“What happened to your children?” Fliberwitz prompted

“Well that i think is a story for our next session don’t you think? Afterall it looks like the bowl is getting full, but i’ll give you a hint” Loki says as he rattles his chains

“In that case, i shall i be back next week at the same time” Fliberwitz said as he gathered his notes, put them in his bag and prepared for the long journey back up the stairs out of the earth

As Fliberwitz reached the exit of the cave, the reality of what had just happened began to hit, not only where gods real, but he had just been speaking with one, these myths were real, what else was real? He had many questions, just what was real, was the world as he knew it meaningless? Was everything humanity has focused on and held dear nout but a meaningless distraction? But Fliberwitz was exhausted, and with no answers to be found he headed home to a much-needed rest, and to process what he had just learned.

Loki’s kids

The next week seemed to take forever to roll around, Fliberwitz struggled to focus in sessions with his human patients, his mind kept wandering back to that cave, and the god trapped there, in comparison to him, nothing felt real, almost as if Loki and his cave where more real than reality. Saturday finally arrived and as Fliberwitz descended the long stone staircase into the bowls of the earth, the excitement began to stir in his chest, as Loki's screams began to reach his ears, his heart began to beat faster excitement building, and trust in his own sanity returned. With each passing day the previous Saturday had felt less real, like a dream fading from memory, but upon hearing the screams it all came flooding back, and he excitedly hurried down the steps almost slipping a couple of times in his haste, but catching himself before he fell.

As he reached the chamber where Loki lay, Sigyn was just returning with the bowl, she smiled at Fliberwitz as he entered. “Ahh doctor, a welcome breath of fresh air, in this dark dank cave”

“Good day Loki” Fliberwitz replied, “I'm looking forward to hearing more of your story, you were about to tell me about what happened with your children, you mentioned your daughter Hel last time, she rules the underworld, is this correct?”

“Yes she does, although while she was treated with some respect it is her brothers that i sought vengeance for”

“Her brothers? What happened to them?”

“Well i promised you the story last time, their mother was a beautiful giantess named Angrboða, and before you ask our dating customs aren't quite as prudish as you humans weird jealous loving thing,” he says as Sigyn nods her head

We had been seeing each other for a while, before she gave birth to triplets three beautiful children, that the aesir believed to be monsters, Hel, whom i have already mentioned, she was born half dead, straight down the middle, one side beautiful and alive, the other skeletal. Her brothers where Jormungandr and Fenrir. Fenrir is a wolf and Jormungandr a serpent, both were large for their age, and only got bigger. But such large powerful creatures scared those cowardly fools, so Jormungandr they tossed into the sea, and he now encircles all of Midgard. Fenrir at Tyr’s insistence was permitted to stay in Asgard for a while, but as the gods watched him grow they became ever more afraid. So they decided to chain him up, but he was strong, stronger than any chain, so when he broke their strongest chain like it was paper, it sealed his fate. They were terrified.

In their fear, they went to the dwarves loathsome little creatures, but useful, they are the greatest craftsman in the nine realms. Chains would not be enough to seal my son, so they created a magic ribbon, a damned ribbon of all things! They took all sorts of things, like the sound of a cat’s footsteps, woman’s beard’s and the roots of a mountain to make the *ugh* ribbon, this is why you no longer see these things in the mortal world.

So naturally my son was wary of the gods when they approached him with a ribbon, but after some goading, he agreed to let them tie him, but as he didn’t trust them, he demanded that a god put their hand in his mouth as insurance to make sure they untied him. Tyr the god who vouched for Fenrir to stay in Asgard, and who played with him, fed him and generally treated him well, offered his hand as collateral. This set Fenrir at ease, after all he didn’t want to believe that Tyr would try and trick him, but sadly Fenrir was young and naive, none of the gods can be trusted, especially Odin. So they bound Fenrir, and even his incredible strength was not enough to break the magical binding. Upon admitting defeat and asking to be released the gods began to laugh and torment my poor son, unable to defend himself or leave he bit down removing Tyr's hand, hurt beyond measure by Tyrs betrayal.

After the gods had had their fun mocking Fenrir they sealed him away under the earth, as i’m sure you can tell they seem to have a bit of a fetish for it” Loki says as he gestures as best he can to the cave around him.

Fliberwitz was left flabbergasted, the gods have generally been portrayed as wise and kind, but in reality, it was starting to sound that they were no better than humans, potentially worse. Fliberwitz’s heart sank, the hope he had found and built up over the week had just been smashed, the gods where not beings to be worshipped and loved, but now the picture was forming of tyrannical beings to be obeyed without question or face a fate worse than death, and even if you obeyed, they may well do it anyway if they perceived you as a threat. This shook Fliberwitz to the core, could everything we know be wrong? There were so many questions Fliberwitz wanted to ask, but to indulge his curiosity would bring the focus back to Loki's bitterness and hatred, a state of mind he needed to move Loki away from, so his curiosity he had to set aside, but he was a professional, the clients mental health comes first. The cave had gone silent, except from the slow dripping of the venom, their timer for their session, dripping away. Fliberwitz felt the need to say something, to break the silence “did you get to spend much time with your children before they were taken?”

“No, i had to leave to go run some trivial errands for Odin shortly after they were born, in hindsight, it was probably just to get me out of the way so they could take them” Loki sighed

“That’s tragic, the gods sound like greater monsters than your children could ever be!” exclaimed Fliberwitz The silence returned, “they are the greatest monsters in the nine realms” claimed Loki, punctuated by a loud scream as the bowl began to overflow once more, marking the end of the session. “That is not even the worst that they have done to my children, but that is a story for another time, goodbye Mr Fliberwitz”

Fliberwitz began the long slow ascent, his head spinning, once again his conversation with the god of mischief had left him with more questions than answers, and his entire world view shattered, now he felt a great pain to the core of his very being as the world he believed he knew crumbled around him.

The next week was even slower, it felt like the gods where slowing time to torment him like they torment Loki, how could the gods use such trickery, what of the honour that was always associated with them? Where they really as bad as Loki made out? But he couldn't openly interrogate his client, that was incredibly unprofessional, so his personal opinion would have to wait, he had to set himself aside, and keep his role as a professional therapist. If he didnt, then he would likely lose his mind, although that was looking likely either way.

The party

Fliberwitz once more found himself going through the small cavern opening down the stairs, lost fantasising about what he was about to discover what he would learn about the imprisoned god this week, as he approached the bottom of the passage, he noticed a distinct lack of screaming, which was his normal welcome. Upon stepping into the main chamber he was greeted by “your late Mr Fliberwitz” Fliberwitz looked at his watch, he was half an hour late, a large portion of their session was already gone.

“I’m sorry Loki, traffic was awful this evening” he lied, “shall we get on with it? I believe you were about to tell me about what happened to your other children.”

“To tell that story requires another one first, and thankfully that story is quite short, largely as I was quite drunk, so my memory is foggy. The gods were having a feast, and they had the gall not to invite me, so after a few drinks by myself I thought the best idea was to go and confront Odin, we were sworn brothers, he made an oath not to attend a feast unless I too was invited. This feast was a big one, Thor had gone to a lot of effort to secure a large kettle for aegir to brew mead fit for the gods in, and once the mead was ready the feast was prepared, it was grand in scale, one of the greatest feasts I've ever seen, and that made me feel all the more insulted that they hadn’t invited me, after all, what kind of grand feast would it be without my ingenious brand of comedy?

So I entered the hall, and confronted the gods. I will admit in my drunken haze this may not of been my wisest decision, but i couldn’t let this insult go ignored, there was no seat saved for me, nor a horn nor plate for me, odin had broken his oath, and showed no remorse in doing so. In my stupor i began to lash out in the way i best know how, i insulted each and everyone of them, bringing many of them to tears, although after Baldur's recent death the gods were weak of will and filled with sorrow, making them easier targets than they had ever been, and in my drunken state i ripped in to each of them as deeply as i could, every ounce of betrayal and spite that i felt channelled, every wrong that was done to me manifested in insults, it wasn’t long until Frigga said, “Oh, if my son Baldur were only here, he would silence thy wicked tongue!” and at this point a grin grew on my face, i turned and admitted what i had done to Hodr and Baldur, the moment the words had left my lips i realised my mistake, and i fled as fast as I could, barely missing lightning from the raging thor, whos thunder shook the halls.” “Wow, i can understand your sense of betrayal, it must have been painful, but you did kill baldur, and you know yourself the pain of something terrible happening to your children, what did you think would happen once they found out?” Fliberwitz asked nervously, after all he was now questioning a god, this was not what he was used to.

“I guess i wasn't thinking, i just wanted to hurt them, however i think Odin already suspected the truth, knowing him it was probably an elaborate set up to trick me into doing what i did, or at least into acting in a manner that they could reasonably disown me for, after all thor was particularly fast to act, and that oaf is not normally the quickest. But i guess i really messed up there” Loki sighed, Fliberwitz breathed a sigh of relief, he had just questioned a god like he would a normal patient, and it had been okay. But before he could begin to ask any follow-up questions the venom began to trickle down the bowl, and with the agonised scream, their session came to an end for this week and Fliberwitz began the long ascent once more. This time he berated himself on the way up for allowing himself to lose track of time and miss such a large portion of his appointment, if he had been on time he would of been able to get deeper to the route of Loki’s issues, but he could feel proud he had made progress.

The punishment

It had been almost a month since Fliberwitz had first met the chained god, he was finding himself now far more confident in dealing with his patients, he had grown a lot through talking with a god, and he hoped the god had too.

Saturday once more came around and he returned to the cave, this time ensuring to arrive on time, and make his way swiftly down the long damp stone steps, deep into the bowels of the earth. He entered the chamber just as the usual screams came to an end. “Good afternoon doctor, it’s good to see your on time for a change”

“You know your snide remarks are a large part of what brought you here don’t you Loki?”

“What do you know? Only what little i’ve told you, you don’t know the pain i suffer every day, nor do you know what i’ve been through, the confusion, the way i’ve been treated, the uncertainty, the mistrust. You know nothing” Loki snapped struggling against his chains

“Your right Loki, i don’t know how can i, i only know what you tell me, that's why im here, to help you talk through things. To share your pain, and to help make sense of what confuses you,so help me understand.” There was only silence, Loki looked away from his therapist to hide his shame. “Or if you feel more comfortable you can continue your story?”Fliberwitz enquired “ i believe you were going to tell me what happened after the feast, and what happened to your other children. Where those other children with sigyn here?”

Loki sighed “yes they were, i loved those kids, but their part in my tragic tale isn’t quite yet. I didn't think that they would do anything to them, how wrong i was.

So after i escaped from the feast, i found myself a nice mountain to hide on, i lived in a hut with four doors so i could always see in every direction, and escape no matter what direction they came from. From there i would spend most days as a fish in a river, so that they couldn’t tell me from the other fish, and spent a few days working out how they could possibly catch me, i even wove the first net, to try to think up a way to escape it should the gods manage to create one. This it turns out was my undoing, just as i finished the net, thor, mimir and couple of other gods came, so i tossed the net on the fire and fled to the stream and disguised myself as a salmon. Unfortunately, the net hadn’t fully burnt by the time they arrived, and Mimir was able to reconstruct it, and used it against me, i tried to escape, but they were relentless and before long i was caught. They brought me to this cave”

“Wait so what happened to your sons?” if you're at the cave in your story but your children still haven’t been mentioned?” asked Fliberwitz

“I will get to them soon” assured Loki “ as they were waiting in this very room with Sigyn as the gods dragged me down, upon seeing my family dread filled my entire being, it was one thing to condemn me for my actions, but to condemn my family like they did, they truly are the monsters.” a tear rolled down Loki’s cheek, he turned away to try to hide it. “First thor grabbed me and held me in place forcing me to watch what happened next. They used ancient magics to turn my beloved Narfi into a wolf and forced Sigyn and I to watch as he tore his brother Nari apart.” “That’s evil!” exclaimed Fliberwitz “how could they do such a thing?”

“It gets worse, they used Nari’s entrails to bind me to these rocks, and Skadi placed that serpent to drip its venom into my face for as long as i’m bound here. Then they used more magic to keep the snake in place and to turn the entrails to chain, and here i have been for millennia, trapped bound with the guts of my own son, with serpent venom dripping on my face, while my beloved wife is forced to stand silently and collect the venom in a bowl, that is the kindness of the gods, to condemn her to this life, so i have a short while where i am not in excruciating pain”

“Wow i honestly don't know what to say! The way they treated you was truly brutal. Thank you for sharing your story, confronting such painful memories can’t of been easy” Fliberwitz said as the venom reached the brim of the bowl, and began to trickle down once more.

“It looks like our session is about over, thank you Doctor Fliberwitz, i will see you soon”

“Goodbye Loki, thank you once again for your story” Fliberwitz began to leave as he left he thought he heard Loki say something, but as he turned to look back, the screaming began.

He began to make the long journey back up out of the earth his head was spinning, where the gods really such cruel villainous entities? Was Loki just a poor being lashing out after being treated unjustly for longer than humanity has existed? He felt sick at the idea, the further he got up the stairs the more he thought about it and the worse he felt, his palms started becoming sweaty, his heart was racing, his head was pounding. As he approached the exit, a wave of nausea hit. He felt his lunch come up, the world was spinning he tried to use the wall to help him make it the last few steps, which were already dangerously slippery without the vomit. As his foot hit the step, another wave of nausea hit, stronger than he had ever felt. With a short scream, he slipped and fell, the scream was short-lived, as his head cracked on a step, but momentum kept his body going, all the way to the bottom, to the chamber where Loki lay bound.

Loki smiled, his plan for vengeance against the gods could begin, his body may be chained but his mind was not, and now he had the perfect puppet.

#creative writing #loki #norse myths #myths and legends #neil gaiman #fiction #new writers on tumblr #therapy

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aqua-harry · 7 years

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She’s Just Not That Into You » Part I (A Harry Styles Miniseries)

Harry wasn’t used to being able to do whatever he wanted.

There was only so much he could do - sometimes he stuck to meandering around his house for a couple of hours in silence, forcing himself to feel the vast quietness he used to crave. He hadn’t yet grasped the idea of having so much time to fill. He couldn’t come to terms with boredom, but he didn’t want to seem like a bother to his friends who also weren’t used to him having so much free time.

But, there was always one friend who was willing to entertain him at the drop of a hat. Nick had been his right-hand man for years now, and Harry could count on him to come through whenever he was going a bit stir-crazy. So when Harry called up Nick to see what he was doing, he was a bit surprised to find his long-time friend in the middle of a relaxed dinner party - a “Thai night” as he called it - and felt a bit weird accepting Nick’s impromptu invitation.

Nevertheless, he did accept, having nothing to do for the rest of the evening after reorganizing his extensive DVD collection for the third time since the band had gone on hiatus. He traded his sweatpants for skinny jeans and tossed on an old white t-shirt, deciding that his usual hoodie was too informal, even for a casual get-together.

When he arrives at Nick’s house, he’s glad he changed, mentally patting himself on the back when he sees you sitting at the far end of the table, a wine glass in your hand and a relaxed smirk established across your mouth as you lean back in your chair.

“Think you know everyone,” Nick gestures vaguely to the rest of his dinner guests, “except this one. She’s the one I’ve been telling you about,” and when he says your name, Harry tests it out for himself, silently mouthing it and loving the way it feels against his lips.

You smile - a full smile instead of the easy smirk he first saw you sport - and stand up to receive Harry’s hand when he offers it. Your palm is warm and much smaller than his, and when you place your left hand on top of the back of his right, clasping the handshake within both of your hands, Harry takes note of the way his heart skips a beat. You hold eye contact with him until Nick’s voice forces you to glance back at him, an easy laugh escaping in reaction to a joke Harry hadn’t caught.

“Harry’s movin’ soon,” Nick places himself between the two of you, slapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Think your tastes are right up ‘is alley. Wouldn’t that be nice, Harold? A cheeky interior design t’ spice up your dreary decor?”

“Sure,” he chuckles, glancing at you nervously.

“Are your services available, love?” Nick pats your shoulder. “Would do wonders f’ your resume to ‘ave the Mister ‘arry Styles as a client. Not that your resume needs any help.”

Harry clears his throat and plucks at his bottom lip nervously, wanting to kill Nick now more than ever. You smile knowingly at your mutual friend, most likely having heard this spiel with more than one man Nick has introduced you to.

“Really am moving, though,” Harry wipes the underside of his nose. “He’s probably right, as much as I hate to admit it. I could use some help when it comes to decor.”

“I’d love to help,” you assure him, taking another small sip from your wine glass.

When he settles into his seat at the opposite end of the table, he keeps track of how many times he looks your way, torn between wanting to stare at you and wanting to play it cool. He remembers Nick mentioning you to him a couple of years ago, but you were simply the interior designer who’d redone Nick’s new house. He couldn’t stop talking about you, going on and on about how funny you were, somewhat distraught over the idea of him not becoming best friends with you once his house was finished. Harry had joked about him falling in love with you, to which Nick earnestly replied, “Think I am, if ‘m honest. You would be too, if you met her.” He’d begged Harry to meet you - to go to a couple events with him in which he knew you would be attending, or to grab a quick coffee with the two of you during a design meeting - but he’d always been too busy.

And that was it. Harry had never actually met you, even though Nick got his wish and became very close with you once the project was complete. Harry was busy - really, really busy - and whenever he had a moment to spare at home, it was spent catching up with old friends, not making new ones. While he toured the world with his band, you built your business and quickly became one of the most successful interior designers in London, all without Harry noticing.

But now, with all the time in the world spanned out in front of him like playing cards on a blackjack table, he was kicking himself. Every time you moved, every time you smiled, every time you spoke, he could feel it on his skin. You’d had his full attention, although he didn’t have yours. He answered questions about the movie, fielded inquiries about his solo career, and spoke vaguely about holiday plans, but the entire time, he was tuned into what you were doing. Quiet as you were, his senses were in overdrive trying to pick up any nuance he could, still completely focused on you, even when he was talking.

“You auditioned, then?” you speak up, placing your glass onto the table. The conversation had turned to what it was like to work with such notable figures in Hollywood, with Harry always being somewhat bashful about his unique experience.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Your voice was smooth - smoother than it had been when you introduced yourself - and it washed over him in the least-calming way imaginable, doing the opposite of what a voice like that should do to him. His stomach flipped and his knees twitched, craving to hear you say quite literally anything else. You could tell him to fuck off and it’d be music to his ears. “Went through the whole process.”

“Nice,” you smile. “Good job.”

He smiles at you, bowing his head in thanks while he catches your eyes.

You don’t say much more after that. Harry wonders if it’s strategic or simply out of necessity. Running in Nick’s circle required a certain level of skill. It was eat-or-be-eaten in the sense that in order to be heard, one had to be louder than the rest or talk fast enough to remain uninterrupted. You didn’t seem interested in keeping up, perfectly content with listening to the general squabble of the group, adding a witty comment whenever it fit. It was a peculiar thing, how funny Harry found you. You saved your jokes for the right moment, your comedic timing unparalleled by anything Nick could come up with, which was interesting to him, considering that he found Nick to be the funniest person he knew.

He observes you in the way he observes most, but he takes special notice, never knowing if or when he’d need to recall this information about you. He notices how your eyes curve upward in the corners when you laugh, your right eye squinting a bit more than your left. He likes how your wrist looks as you hold your wine glass, mesmerized by your movements as your fingertips circle the base of it while you listen to the group pick on one another. He takes note of how comfortable you are just listening, only commenting on something if it feels right, carefully considering your words.

Harry wonders why he didn’t listen to Nick before. Why hadn’t there been any urgency to meet you? Nick, of course, had always talked about you, especially after you continued to hang out with him once his house was done. He knows you became close with the rest of his circle fairly quickly, and now he can see why - your company was peaceful, a presence that was impossible to ignore, although it was entirely gentle. Now that he’s got you in front of him, Harry feels like an absolute dolt for not caring one way or the other when Nick insisted on him meeting you. Nick swore that you were right up his alley, but he tends to boast about the company he keeps, so Harry figured you were no different.

He was terribly, terribly wrong.

When Nick and his dinner guests leave the table to refill their drinks and make their way into the living room, Harry takes the opportunity to strike up a one-on-one conversation with you. You’re lovely - lovelier than most - and he’s never been shy about going after what he wants.

He finds, unsurprisingly, that you’re easy to talk to. Without any effort on his part, he feels wholly comfortable around you, wanting to lean forward and place a hand on your knee as the two of you chat. He stops himself, the inappropriateness of the gesture overtaking his want to touch you.

“Anything fun planned for the holidays?” you ask, swinging one leg on top of the other and nestling your hands in the crook of your bent knee.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, adjusting his rings. “Going home to my mum’s for a couple of weeks. Always a good time, catching up with the family.”

“Where are you from originally? Sound a bit Northern.”

“Holmes Chapel in Cheshire,” he clears his throat, finding it refreshing to have to explain where he’s from. “My sister comes home, too, so it’s nice to have the family back together,” he plucks at his lips again, a habit he’d most likely never rid of. “What about you? Any plans?”

“Going home to Devon,” you run a hand through your hair. “Staying for a week and a half.”

“Devon, huh? Gorgeous place.”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Grew up on the beach. Always nice to go back where you came from, especially when it’s someplace as beautiful as Devon. My family’s really big on Christmas, so it’ll be good to catch up with them. Still have to get them presents, though. A bit behind this year.”

“‘m on my game this year,” Harry grins. “Usually don’t have all that much time to sort out gifts more than a couple of days before, but ‘ve got everyone but m’mum accounted for this year.”

“Mums are always the hardest, though,” you chuckle. “How ‘m I supposed to repay her for not killing me during my formative years?”

“Seriously,” he laughs. “My mum’s a saint for not killing me or my sister for every stupid fight we had growing up.”

“Is your sister older or younger?” you inquire, your eyes flitting up to the doorway behind Harry.

Before he gets a chance to answer your question, Nick’s hands are on his shoulders, patting them aggressively.

“Bit o’ Trivial Pursuit in the living room, friends?” he asks.

Harry’s stomach drops at how quickly your eyes light up, at how excitedly you stand up and adjust your t-shirt, ready to leap into the living room and get started on the game. If he could, he’d sit here and talk to you all night, ignoring the rest of the party so he could speak with you about whatever the conversation turned to. He sighs, standing up and slapping a hand onto Nick’s back, following him into the living room.

Harry sits next to his best friend on the couch, laughing when he wiggles his eyebrows towards him. You walk in from the kitchen, sauntering happily over to the center and plopping down in front of the coffee table, crossing your legs and sipping at your refilled glass of wine before placing it on a coaster in front of you.

“Teams?” Nick asks, setting up the game.

He makes the case to have you on his team, and you wink knowingly at him, causing Harry a flash of jealousy he doesn’t know the source of. Some part of him - a deep, embarrassing part that should never see the light of day until otherwise stated - wants you to wink at him like that, wants to be close enough to you to be winked at and know the meaning behind it. He wants to wink back at you the way Nick does, and he wants you to attempt to hide a smile behind your wine glass as you take another drink.

The game begins, and Harry quickly realizes why Nick wanted you on his team. You dominate, knowing the answer to seven questions in a row, with everyone else on the opposing team grumbling that they weren’t even given a chance. Nick cackles with delight, but you remain level-headed, only grinning when you’re correct, never boasting about your expertise on random bits of trivia.

Harry can’t help but appreciate how your eyes light up whenever you know the answer, quietly confident in your ability to answer each question with ease. When your team jeers at members on the other team who take too long to answer a question, you encourage your teammates to give the other player a break. “‘s not like you’re answering any questions for us, anyway,” you mutter under your breath, laughing when your team turns their heckling towards you.

“Was right of me to want ‘er on my team, yeah?” Nick nudges Harry in his side.

It was almost as if Harry were viewing you in slow motion. The way you tossed your head back when you laughed, the tiny wrinkle in your brow and how you pursed your lips when you were thinking of an answer - it was all floating through his mind the way molasses drips languidly out of the jar after being held captive for so long. He could watch you forever; he could make a career out of the way it felt to watch you whisper into your teammate’s ear, nodding your head in response to whatever she said back to you.

It’s unsurprising when your team ends up crushing Harry’s team with little effort, thanks to your knowledge. You bow gracefully as everyone claps for you, your hair unruly when you pop back up, a large smile plastered on your face while you encourage the cheering, your eyes closed in blissful victory.

“And with that,” you state, readjusting your hair. “I bid you all adieu, for I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow.”

“You good to drive?” Nick asks.

“Of course,” you nod. “Had a glass and a half of wine over three hours. You know me, Nicholas.”

You go around the room, saying goodbye to everyone with a warm hug and a glowing smile. Harry tries to busy himself with organizing the question cards and placing the game pieces back into the box, glancing up every now and then to see where you are in the room. He clears his throat when you approach him, standing up and wiping his hands on his thighs.

“It was nice meeting you,” you rest a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to hug him.

His heart begins to race when your hair sweeps across his face, although it only touches his cheek for a moment. You smell like something vaguely familiar, maybe a candle he’d brought with him on the road or a baked good he had made so many times, he’d lost count. You squeeze him briefly before letting go, the embrace far too short for Harry’s liking.

“Lovely to meet you, as well,” he says, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips. As you walk to the entryway and slip on your shoes, he calls out, “Drive safe!” and immediately regrets it when you neglect to hear it, instead laughing and nodding at something Nick says in your ear as you swing your handbag over your shoulder.

When you’re gone from the small party, the headlights of your car flashing through the windows as you drive down the street, a misplaced feeling washes over Harry. His heart was not used to racing because of someone else. He’d experienced his fair share of adrenaline rushes. He made a living performing for thousands of people every night. He was no stranger to the rush of blood to his heart and head, making his vision fuzzy around the edges and his fingertips quiver. But to feel this way because of the presence of another person?

He didn’t know you. He only knew your name and that you decorated Nick’s house. Yet, somehow, you turned his brain into mush and it seemed that he had lost all feeling from the knees down whenever you looked at him.

“Told ye’,” Nick quips, standing in front of Harry. “Shoulda listened to your ole pal Nick, huh?”

---

There were pros and cons to being bored, Harry realized. There was only so much exploring he could do in Holmes Chapel, especially considering most of the area had been scouted during his youth. So, instead, he slept. He slept as much as he could, finding out that there was a limit to how much sleep he could actually get. His mother loved the contentment of her son being asleep in his childhood bedroom, so he hid from her the fact that he was rising far earlier than he would’ve preferred. Although he had always loved sleep and could find it whenever he searched, he’d recently found himself waking in the middle of the night and not being able to fall back into a peaceful slumber.

Instead of getting up and making a cup of tea to ease his restless mind, he sat up in bed and opened his laptop, the light illuminating the puffy features of his tired face. He types in the address to your website, the first three letters enough to prompt his browser to automatically fill in the rest of the URL. He sighs, noticing the time in the upper righthand corner of his screen - 3am. He knew, without a doubt, that if someone looked in his web history, they’d surely gather that he had quite the obsession with you, based on how many times he’d visited your website in the early-morning hours within the past week alone.

Snow falls outside of his window in the way that it tends to do late at night - quietly, yet with enough tenacity to cover the entirety of his world without much effort. Harry never really considered himself to be a lonely person. He had his close circle of friends and he’d always been able to lean on his family if he’d gotten homesick over the years. But, now, with his bed feeling especially empty and his future unsure, he disregards the fact that visiting your website made him feel less alone.

He clicks around, reading once more about your accolades and various awards, his heart racing at the pictures of you sitting on the couches of the rooms you’d designed. How could he have missed you on the Most Influential Brits Under 30 list? He was on it himself, for fuck’s sake. And, as it turned out, you’d redone the interior of one of his favorite bistros, yet he never even knew your name. You’d been named one of Britain’s Most Promising Designers and had made the list of the Top Ten Interior Designers of London that year, a two-page spread in a magazine Harry had never heard of featured on the front page of your website.

There was no denying your talent, either. You had a distinct style - smooth and sleek with refurbished wood and furniture, finding a place for old and new. There was a balance that made every room featured in your portfolio feel warm and welcoming, just as Nick’s home had done for everyone who entered into it. He could see why Nick had first fallen in love with your designs and had subsequently fallen in love with you.

Once he finishes going through every page, he clicks on your store’s website, sifting through the products you offered and studying the pictures of the showrooms you had created within the layout. The items were expensive, but the quality was evident. He appreciated how you paired items with others - throw pillows with armchairs, lamps with side tables, rugs with coffee tables - and he considers each item for his own home.

You were established, and he liked that. No wonder you had to ask him about information that was readily available to anyone and everyone - you didn’t have the time to know that he was from Holmes Chapel or that his sister was older than he is, not younger. You were too busy creating a business, owning a store, and winning awards in your field. He almost felt revitalized, meeting someone who obviously knew who he was, yet didn’t much care about the exact details of his life. You were seemingly unimpressed by his status, only somewhat curious about his holiday plans, and for all he knew, you were just being polite.

He stares at your picture until the outlines of your face become blurred, his eyes watering as he fixes his gaze. What business did he have looking you up on the internet, anyway? It was for research, he’d told himself. Research to see whether or not your design style would fit his before he hired you to decorate his house. He was happy to find out that your tastes aligned with his, knowing within the first couple of glances at your work that you would be a good hire.

But, at what point did research become a compulsion? His entire day felt off if he didn’t wake up and browse through your site, trying to pick up on something he’d missed or - possibly - wanting to convince himself that you weren’t nearly as impeccable as Nick had lead him to believe. In the end, he finds nothing, smacking his laptop shut and burrowing back down into the covers in a feeble attempt at falling back asleep.

---

Harry kicks Nick under the table, his eyes flashing with anger as he chews aggressively on the Sunday roast.

“Oi!” Nick shouts, laughing as he rubs his knee. “No need to get violent, Styles.”

Harry grunts and rolls his eyes, gulping down the water left in his glass. It was a quality in Nick that he never understood, the way he tried to get a rise out of Harry by telling Anne her son had a new girlfriend, even if it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Not my girlfriend,” the frustrated popstar grumbles. “Not even close.”

“Well, she will be,” Nick chortles, pointing his fork in Anne’s direction. “Just you wait and see, Anne. He’s already fallin’ for ‘er and he’s only met the girl once!”

“Is that right?” Anne plays into Nick’s game, enjoying the way it makes her youngest pout into his dinner plate. “Why didn’t you mention her, Harry?”

“There’s nothin’ to mention,” he sighs, stabbing at a potato. “She’s Nick’s interior designer and I was thinking about hiring her to decorate my new house. That’s all.”

“Thinkin’ about, dreamin’ about, pinin’ after, plannin’ a future with…all the same thing, innit?”

When Harry closes his eyes and leans his head back onto the dining chair, both Nick and Anne erupt with laughter, Anne reaching out and rubbing Harry’s shoulder.

“‘m just takin’ the piss, Harry,” Nick playfully punches his best friend’s shoulder. “Was tryin’ to get lil’ Harold here to meet her for years,” he explains to Anne. “And finally, just before the holidays, he came over to mine and she was there with some others. Thought they hit it off quite nicely, if ye’ ask me.”

“No one asked you,” Harry says under his breath.

“What did you say her name was?” Anne asks, disregarding the comment.

Her eyes light up when Nick further explains who you are, having just been to the holiday party you’d thrown for your company. Harry looks up from his meal at the mention of your party, wanting to ask about it, but knowing better not to. He wonders, briefly, what you looked like and if your laugh was as bubbly as the champagne you drank.

“She was on that list you were on, wasn’t she?” Anne asks her son. “The Brits Under 30 one?”

“Indeed,” Nick smiles and answers for him. “She was on the same list as young ‘arry. And yet, he didn’t feel the urgency to meet her when I told him about ‘er. Can you believe that, Sweet Anne?”

The two of them laugh once more, causing Harry to further sink into his chair. His mother tuts, patting his shoulder lovingly.

“Just a bit of fun, love,” she stands up to kiss his temple gently, smoothing his unruly hair down. “Really think you’ll work with her to decorate your new place?”

“Thought about it,” he nods, still grumpy.

“Better,” Nick points. “Happy I got ‘er when I did. No way ‘d be able to afford her now. Glad I can say I knew her when. Would never be able to afford ‘er now,” he takes a sip of his drink. “Redid me mum’s living room for free. Or, well,” he smiles. “I splurged on the furniture and whatnot, but she chose everything and didn’t charge me a single red cent for the work.”

“How nice!” Anne grins, clapping her hands once. “I read about her on the Under 30 list and then saw her spread for House Beautiful. She really does seem like such a talent. I love her look,” she places a gentle hand on Harry’s wrist as it lays on the table next to her. “Bet your place will look wonderful with her designs.”

“And only time will tell if Harry can charm her just as easily as she’s charmed him,” Nick puts his hand on Harry’s other wrist, squawking when he rips his out from underneath his touch. “My bet is he’ll have to use more than ‘is boyish good looks to nab this one.”

“Don’t even want to ‘nab’ her,” Harry rolls his eyes. His voice is significantly deeper than normal as he speaks into his chest, a furrow in his brow and an annoyance to his words.

“Oh?” Nick questions. “That’s why you couldn’t keep ye’ eyes off her at mine, then?”

“Whatever,” Harry grumbles, backing up in his chair.

He ignores the pleas from his mother and friend, begging him to return to the table. Instead, he makes his way back to his room, raking a frustrated hand through his hair and sighing deeply. He didn’t have much of a leg to stand on, but that was his own fault, wasn’t it?

Nick was right. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you at his place. But that didn’t mean anything, really. Harry stared at a lot of people. He liked to be aware of the situation - he wanted to know who he was dealing with, who he was keeping company with. But, then again, he didn’t usually look those people up on the internet and memorize their websites at three in the morning, either.

“Fuck!” he spits under his breath as he falls back onto his bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles concepts #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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nomanicsdak · 5 years

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New Post has been published on https://manicdak.com/picnics-and-pirates/

Picnics and Pirates

Neverending Isles

Well, we’re back at it, here in far away, long ago Greece, where I start the game after a long hiatus playing Anthem (don’t @ me). I am finishing up an ice cream sandwich IRL while waiting for things to load up and get immediately assassinated by some bounty hunters, because as it turns out, I am still standing over Podarkes dead bod. When I return from being unsynchronized, I pay for my bounty because I don’t want them hassling me. Now it’s time to get down to business and reacquaint myself to the controls. I still have a gazillion points on the map to explore!

What I remember is that I think I have finished with the Silver Islands, which have lost their sheen after I found out that they don’t let you die there, and I am on a quest to defeat a cult and find my mom so I can find out who my dad is.

Let us now seek a new side quest so I don’t have to do any of that!

Here we go, I meet up with my pal, Barnabas and he’s giving me the update on Kyra! So they didn’t just fade off into the sunset without saying goodbye after all. I feel better about that since I put all that time in here. She is putting her traitorous dad to rest and is grateful I haven’t told her secret. (The secret of her dad being a murderous traitor thief.)

My Alexios’s opinion is that Podarkes should rot, but that the troops deserve a good story, especially Thaletas who is waiting up the stairs I am told. Barnabas bids me good night as he tells me to relax and party it up for a minute, and now I have a quest called a night to remember.

I will never be done with the Silver Isles, also, I’m not hookin’ it up with Thaletas, game. You better not still be trying to make that happen!

First, I’m led to Kyra as she lights dad’s funeral pyre. She has complicated feelings about this whole situation, but I encourage her to stay strong and help her peeps so a new Podarkes doesn’t crop up. We head back to the party now.

The bear smuggler is there all touching up on Barnabas’s face. She calls him Barny which is a good nickname for him that I didn’t even think of, because I couldn’t remember his name for several days after I met him. I’m going to steal it. They have bonded over their opposite missing eyes. How nice. Apparently they are in love now. What the hell? I spent so long wandering around these dumb islands that my boat captain has acquired a girlfriend. I can invite her to join the crew, so why not. Everybody wins? Maybe we could use a smuggler.

Once we are done with that love story, I can now breath a sigh of relief, because Kyra and Thaletas are together for reals, and he is no longer awkwardly hitting on me. Yay! Also, he’s over here turning down Spartan generalship in order to settle on the islands with Kyra. This is quite a thing for a dude who wanted to fight me to prove my Spartaness. Good for them, for now!

I decide to bow out quietly and leave the rebels to their islands without speechifying about it, despite Barny’s wishes. Of course, I can’t leave without Sokrates showing up to say goodbye and philosophizing at me. Until next time, Sokrates!

But I see new quests…what? I am determined to finish these silver isles though, so I’m heading back across the way to Mykanos now.

Psych! Apparently you can create your own levels in assassin’s creed now, and these silver exclamation points are user created. It’s been so long since I’ve been here there are new game mechanics. Of course in the first one I pick just to see what they’re like, my “one true love”, Thaletas, wants me to assassin someone for him. Even random internet strangers want me to hook up with this dude! Sorry, video game gods, it’s not gonna happen!

I move back to that blasted pirate island with the dagger lady that I attempted earlier in the game and spend the entirety of my gaming night trying to beat it. I KNOW I’ve faced dual wielding rogues before and beat them. This pirate lady is two entire levels below me, so I don’t know why this is so difficult! Bah. One bonus to this location when I finally beat her, is that there is a cultist here! I wasn’t even looking for one! So we get to cross another of those dudes off the cult family tree.

Since we’re laying siege to pirate islands tonight, let’s go find another one. There is a huge one to the west of me, so that is where we head! First a quick stop off at this little nothing island called Lestris. There is a quest item here though. Let’s see if we can find out what quest it belongs to… Huh. Artifact fragments it looks like??? Maybe I should upgrade my spear instead of going to pirate island.

Just kidding again! I travel all the way back to spear island to find out I need seven artifacts for the next section, but I only have four. Damn. Back to Pirate island I guess.

Yo-Ho-Ho

This place is literally called Pirate Island this time. I thought it might end up in another silver isles situation, but this one only has a couple of quests that don’t lead on an endless string of other quests. It is however, filled with bobcats jumping on my back. Which sucks, because I’m not about killing bobcats, but if they’re going to attack me…

Our first quest is for a little girl. She’s gathering clay for her friends and wants to make them some jewelry, so she asks Alexios if he will go find some pearls and shiny rocks. Sure thing! Helping the children of Greece free of charge are my favorite tasks.

I return to her shack on the hill expecting some more kids, but instead find three huge lumps of clay, and these are her friends. <Insert distressed smiley face here> I was not expecting this innocuous quest to turn tragic, but then again, I never do. Turns out her mother decided to go pirate to get some money and make a better life, but returned with a stab wound. Her last words to her daughter were to be good and make friends. The kid has literally made friends. Out of clay.

All my friends are clay.

I don’t really have the heart to tell this lonely child that her friends are clay lumps and she is delusional and needs to go out and meet real people. I choose to tell her that anybody can be a friend. My bestie is an eagle after all. She thinks that’s pretty cool. Maybe I can inspire all the young girls of Greece to become falconers? (I return a bit later and find her crying, because the rain has washed her friends away, but we cannot interact anymore. Did I do the wrong thing? )

Alexios, Blending right in

Second quest is some dude’s wife picking ceremony. The woman I talk to insists that she loves this man and he loves her. Apparently I get no choice but to think she is a gold digger. Is she? Who knows? An acolyte of Hecate approaches us and offers to make her a love potion. I and Alexios think this is a ridiculous farce, but agree to help anyway. I fetch some shrooms and some some wine and hand it over to the ‘witch’. All she needs now is a lock of the woman’s hair.

A love potion that causes hair to fall out, but not at the root– The mysterious ways of Hecate, I guess.

I return the next night and our friend is bald! Turns out the witch was merely a rival for the rich dude’s affections, and she has tricked this woman into drinking a sort of poison. It was only supposed to give her a rash, not make all her hair fall out. As to the why of the situation, the witch thinks she deserves this dude because they’ve known each other since childhood, and was just playing the game. The other woman is distraught, obviously.

the witch is way too pleased with her plan

But the show must go on! — This whole prank has rubbed me the wrong way and the ‘witch’s maniacal laughter is really not helping much, but I don’t get many options in the way of a peaceful resolution. It’s either, So sorry about your luck, bald lady, or kill the witch! (My true choice would be to tell the bald woman to forget about the rich dude; he’s not worth it and then hightail it out of there.) I call the guards on the ‘witch’ and hope she’ll just get arrested or something. Naaah. With that choice I get an update to the quest for witch killing. Damn.

I just stand aside and let the guards do it.

And that’s everything of note on pirate island! A short and sweet one with surprisingly few pirates! Maybe tomorrow we’ll hunt some cultists so I can upgrade my spear!

I do find one short quest somewhere along the way, but I forget where it was. A woman instructs me to go to a cemetery to find out which God is the most powerful: Apollo (I think? Or was it Ares? Something with an A. I didn’t write this one down!) or Posiden. “A” god has lions which are pretty powerful, but Posiden has like…sharks and krakens. Choices, choices. While I’m figuring this out some dude comes up to me and is absolutely convince I’m going to kill him. Huh? I tell him all is cool, bro, but then he comes after me anyway, because Athena told him it must be.

I didn’t get this memo

Back to the old lady who gave me this dumb quest, and I tell her Athena is the most powerful, because she got this dude to commit suicide by mysthios without lions or sharks. The lady thinks this is all amusing and I don’t even remember if she got the answer she wanted, and I don’t even know if I got any drachmae for it, but there you have it! Moving swiftly onward–

Wading into the Deep End

Update: So it turns out that I didn’t find an artifact on that island, just a clue to find one, which is good, because I need three more to upgrade! It has led me Achaia and now I can’t find the letter with the clue so… great. Am I even supposed to be here? I guess I’ll go search the coves and see what I can find!

I find many enemies that are at least ten levels above me, so–I definitely am not supposed to be here yet! Also, I’m level 30, how long is this game??? Before I move on to easier targets, I find the sunken temple of Demeter and some Ares boots that I can sell later. Maybe I’ll tackle the cultist in the arena? I have an actual quest for that, so maybe I’m not too weak for that one? It is in Pephka, and I get to reveal a whole new section of the map if I go there. So, let’s go!

Ouch!

First, I stop off at an underwater cavern to get some loot and fight some sharks. Turns out the quest item on that island was not the cultist letter, nor was it an artifact…it was some bricks. Do I have a quest for bricks??? What? Forget it. I’m going to the arena and resisting the temptation to stop at every island along the way. In keeping with the theme somehow…it is at a place called Pirate Point.

Ahh, turns out this is all Barny’s doing. He thought I should give this arena thing a try, because, obviously, I have nothing else to do. I talk to a guy named Skoura. I guess I’m here to inspire the crowds to believe in heroes again. I’ll do it!

It’s Skoura!

Well, I’ll do it up until the point where these other dudes are a higher level than me. There is a guy at level 50. Damn. Hopefully the cultist makes himself known before then. Is it Skoura??? I hope not, I kinda like the old dude. Also, I’m going to have to question this whole operation…

Like, why does Alexios, a single human person (or Demi-god?), have to fight like 20 dudes before I get to my opponent??? He only has to fight me. How fair is that? (I’m just complaining, because I am not good at this, and also this sucks and is no fun, but I won’t rage-quit just yet.) At least not until–yes, that did it–some upgraded gear did the trick. It is always my downfall.

After I win my first bout, some dude named Maion approaches me and Skoura. He’s all about the drachmae, so I don’t trust him. Hmm. Maybe he’s the cultist? I just want to find him before I get too deep in this arena business. Is that too much to ask? But there are only two out of five guys at my level or below.

Yeah, the one guy is going to be it for the arena for now. Excuse me while I go grind, thank you very much.

A Tale of Two Brothers

Here’s a novel Idea–Let’s get on with the story. Did I say I was going to investigate Alkibiades clue? Let’s do that! Off to Korinth we go! There are lots of undiscovered locations here. *rubs hands together in anticipation*

First thing I find is a bandit camp, which I think is going to be a simple affair not worth mentioning, but instead there is a quest there. I rescue some dude named Lykinos who has no idea why these bandits were shaking him down. I have to carry him to get him away. Let’s return him to his dad before I accidentally kill him trying to put him on the ground (I forgot which button puts people down!) and see what journey I have to go on now.

Okay, dude is an Athenian poet. When we get him home safe, and sound, it turns out that the bandit’s killed dad! Sad. We find this out because Lykinos’s brother–some call him Tim–shows up to tell us. He’s all aggro about it, probably because Lykinos has been swanning around Athens writing poems instead of being there at home / fighting wars. Now I get to do favors for both of them.

Lykinos cannot believe this shit

Tim wants me to get some Athenian armor from a vendor, and this can’t possibly be as easy to do as it sounds. Lykinos wants revenge. Even Alexios sounds weary with that idea, because he’s trying to convince Lykinos nobody wants any more bloodshed. He agrees, that’s why he’s hiring me. Gee, thanks, fella.

I go to the merchant and it turns out that that dad sold his armor, or maybe this guy is trying to cheat me? Whatevs. Buy all the armor! I only spend money on upgrades (if I remember to) and paying off my own bounties anyway.

Armor in hand, I head off to dispatch the bandits. When I get to their camp, I find them besieged by a pack of wolves. Maybe if I sneak hard enough, the wolves will do all the work for me??? All right, I am not that lucky or good at sneaking, but these dudes aren’t that difficult. I find a letter in the camp that says dear old dad owed these bandits a lot of money. Loan sharkin’ it up again, I see. I wonder if there’s a bigger badder shark behind these guys?

Spoiler: There is not. I’m always overthinking these sidequest plots.

What I do know is that I’m apparently staying for this funeral even after revealing the truth of dad’s shady business dealings. Tim wants me to get oil for an offering, and Lykinos thinks I should get some wine. He seems confused about what the oil’s for though, and there’s a lot of tension between these bros. We shall see! I get both offerings and complete a location.

When I return to my friends, they are having a brotherly blow up, like brothers do. After I give them a pep talk about being there for one another, because they’re all they’ve got left, it is time to go. Or is it?

Now Hug it Out!

Because, are these bros vibing on Alexios, or is it just me? Well, Lykinos wants to meet up with me later anyway. Winkity, wink?? Like, the last dude that wanted to see me after a quest was complete, I ended up with a bed of rose petals.

Aaahahah. Lykinos wants to make me dinner. I TOLD you. First I have to hunt down some deers, and when I meet him it’s on this picturesque overlook at sunset. Geez. Well, played, poet man. Dinner and a view–I think this hits the sweet spot right between a overly-sentimental bed of rose petals and goat orgy. I actually like this guy, so let’s do it!

But first a chat about Lykinos being a lying liar who lies. See, turns out he didn’t come back just to visit the fam. Actually, he just failed at being an artist in the big city. He didn’t want to tell his family so as not to disappoint them, and he didn’t want to tell me, because he was trying to impress me. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do know, because he’s not exactly the fighting type. I tell him he should become a cook because this venison meal he’s made is A+++

Are You serious right now?

Alright! Heart to heart over; we fade to black and return the next morning with Alexios all by himself again. Such is the life of a mercenary! It’s on to the next quest I suppose.

#assassin's creed #Games #Assassin's Creed #Odyssey

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souloben · 7 years

Text

dating stiles stilinski would include

- Stiles having a crush on you since the day you met, and becoming incredibly awkward/flustered around you.

- Scott noticing both your heartbeat's go wild when you and Stiles are in the room together.

- Stiles struggling to muster up the courage to ask you out.

- "Stiles, it's one sentence and you've liked her since forever."

- "Yeah but Scott, what if she says no?"

- When he finally manages it, he'd spend way too much time planning every detail of the date including a minute by minute guide on what to do and say to you.

- "Stiles, is this all for that girl you like?"

- “..Maybe”

- Him basically having heart palpitations asking you, then realizing he’d panicked for nothing as you accepted with a huge grin on your face.

- You both being incredibly awkward on the first date, but it ended up going really well.

- Stiles would let you do all the talking, that's how much he likes you.

- And you'd both go on many more future dates.

- Him asking you to prom.

- Spending the night slow dancing and being the couple that everybody admired.

- He'd freak out about the whole supernatural thing, feeling incredibly guilty for hiding such a big thing from you.

- He'd probably beg Scott for advice.

- "Come on Scotty, use your werewolf senses. Will she break up with me if I tell her?"

- "Stiles, I'm not psychic."

- You eventually asked your best friend Allison about it, and she relented and explained everything.

- Going to Stiles' house and trying your hardest to stay mad as you ranted to him about his lying.

- Him profoundly apologizing, knowing you hated betrayals of trust more than anything.

- You storming off into the night, incredibly hurt and pissed off.

- Then probably crying because you'd had your first fight with your boyfriend.

- Unable to give Stiles the silent treatment because he bugged you non stop, whether this was at school or via text.

- Stiles reinforced his friend's help so that he could apologize to you in an incredibly epic and romantic way.

- His plan sort of failed, and he was left running up to you after class and begging for your forgiveness.

- You rolled your eyes and the two of you had your first kiss right then and there. It wasn't anything romantic like he had planned, but it was still perfect in every way.

- You going to his first lacrosse game where he was actually on the team, and cheering your support in the stands just as loud as his father was.

- Completely freaking out when he went missing, to the point of losing all hope of sleep over worrying about your MIA boyfriend.

- Doing everything in your power to find out where he was, even though you're only human with pretty bad detective skills.

- When he arrived back home at the Stilinski house, his dad texted you immediately and you arrived there so fast that anyone would think you did have supernatural abilities.

- Hugging him so hard that he lost his balance and the two of you collapsed onto his bed in a heap.

- You being the only one he told the truth about where he'd been.

- Not letting go of his hand for a moment as he relived the memory of Gerard beating him up.

- Wanting to throw something you were so angry.

- Staying over at his house for the night, the first time in your relationship.

- Your hands remained intertwined even as you slept.

- Being the only person to match his sarcasm level.

- Being each other's soulmate, other half, friend and lover.

- "Wait, you're my girlfriend-and you haven't seen Star Wars?"

- “No Stiles, I haven’t seen Star Wars.”

- Watching Star Wars together, and Stiles feeling proud and violated because you end up being a bigger fan than him.

- Stiles taking enormous pride in the fact that he can kiss you and show displays of affection in public.

- Probably embarrassing you often by whispering cheesy pickup lines in class.

- God, those pickup lines were terrible. But in a good way.

- You being the only one he trusted to drive the jeep, Scott being a close second.

- You picking up on his baseball bat skills, and eventually being named the 'two idiots with baseball bats' by the pack.

- Being the first one to realize what was about to happen when Stiles dropped the flare in the puddle of gasoline, and pulling both of them down as the explosion occurred behind them.

- Promising him that they would find his father, no matter what. You felt obliged to, not just for Stiles, but for your own sake too. The sheriff was almost like a father figure to you, too.

- Being present at the time of his panic attack, and being incredibly flustered and worried seeing as it was the first time he'd had one in front of you. You were desperate to calm him down, but your scared state just panicked him further. After many failed attempts at soothing him, you ended up pressing your lips to his. Thankfully, he held his breath which stopped the panic attack.

- After that experience, knowing how to calm down Stiles the right way whenever he panicked.

- Being just as happy as Stiles when they found his dad.

- Being his emotional tether for the sacrifices, and near breaking down when they explained what you had to do.

- Flinging your arms around him and hugging him tightly when all three of them woke up, despite the fact that he was soaking wet-neither of you cared.

- Being woken in the night by the sounds of Stiles' screams when the nightmares started, and being the only one who could calm him and lull him back to sleep.

- Noticing all the bad signs he was beginning to show-irritability, dark circles, even paler skin than usual, and his new inability to read or focus properly.

- Trying your absolute best to help him and being to one to force him to go to Melissa and ask her about it.

- Scott telling you immediately after Stiles had rang him in the middle of the night, near tears and terrified, that he didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there. He'd begged Scott not to tell you about it, because you already worried too much about him, but Scott knew you'd find out either way.

- Comforting Stiles before his MRI scan, trying hard not to cry in front of him and refusing to leave the hospital until he was done.

- Being inconsolable when he goes missing again, the repeat of a few years ago almost too much for you to bear.

- Being the only one able to ward off the Nogitsune from Stiles' mind, like an anchor, if only for short periods of time.

- You stood in the way of Scott and ended up being stabbed by the Nogitsune instead.

- When the real Stiles broke free for a little while, he spent all his time at the hospital by your bedside, anxiously ruminating and constantly near tears.

- You were completely distraught by his decision to basically lock himself in Eichen House to prevent further damage done when the Nogitsune possessed him again, and begged him to stay.

- Hating the feeling of being utterly helpless as your boyfriend remained controlled by the evil fox spirit, and you were left as an almost defenseless human with no way of bringing back Stiles.

- The Nogitsune being disgusted and yet fascinated by how completely and utterly in love Stiles is with you.

- "I'm not telling you anything."

- "You won't have to. You'll be screaming."

- Holding onto Stiles for the entirety of the Nogitsune's final trick, whether that be grasping his hand or him leaning onto you, you both stayed inseparable the whole time.

- Stiles holding you and stroking your hair after Allison's death, knowing nothing could really heal the fresh wound that had been inflicted on your heart.

- Stiles confessing he loves you in a gentle whisper as he softly kisses your forehead, the words escaping from his lips before he could contain himself.

- After the void situation, you and Stiles would be even more inseparable than usual. You'd spend all your time together, watching movies or just talking in general.

- The two of you would spend a lot of time 'studying'.

- Wearing his hoodies and flannels. He wouldn't object though, he thinks you look adorable in them.

- Sometimes catching yourself staring too deeply into his golden brown eyes, and he'd smile softly and kiss you.

- Whenever he's anxious or scared, which is quite often with all the situations they get dragged into, you are his anchor. Just the sweaty clasp of your hands intertwined or his shaking hand running through your hair with immense delicacy, you always calm him.

- More "Studying".

- Both of you having a love - hate relationship with Derek Hale.

- Stiles smirking proudly when you hit Derek with a wave of sarcasm.

- Arguing like a married couple over 'bad planning' in Mexico.

- So much sarcasm.

- You're both the one couple that most people pretend to hate but secretly love. Scott will ship you both until the day he dies.

- "What? You got claws, I got a bat."

- "Babe, that's my thing."

- “You’re just too poetic to resist quoting.”

- “You’re lucky I love you.”

- Endless text messages at 3 AM.

- If either of you were upset and the other couldn't come over, you and Stiles would talk to each other over the phone for hours and eventually fall asleep to the sound of the other's voice.

- Being like a frantic mother over Liam, pissing off Stiles because you're ruining his 'authority'.

- Supporting Stiles in all of his lacrosse games.

- Having absolutely no shame when it comes to after the game, you always ran down to the field and started kissing him right then and there.

- Being incredibly close with Malia, both you and Stiles teaching her the ways of actual humanity.

- Endless sass.

- "Malia, humans are friends, not food."

- "Stiles, you never gave me that advice.”

- "Yeah, and if it wasn't for me then my dad would have arrested you plenty of times by now.”

- "Babe, kindly shut the hell up about my criminal record."

- Stiles attempting to teach you some of his detective knowledge after explaining to him about how useless you felt. The two of you stayed up till the early hours of the morning, planning suspects and endless red string, and you eventually fell asleep in his arms.

- Feeling weakened by the supernatural virus quickly spreading around the school, you and Stiles held each other's hand and became increasingly worried by the pack's psychical state.

- Stiles assuring you he'd come back when he decided to try and find some kind of cure for the disease, reminding you he'd never leave you behind.

- Staying with Malia, Scott and Kira while you became even more worried about Stiles.

- Both you and Stiles remained suspicious about Theo Raeken, whereas the rest of the pack did otherwise.

- Assuring him when he talked about his fear of losing his friends after senior year, and embracing after you added you'd like to be part of his future 'vision'.

- You were the first person Stiles told the Donovan incident to, you'd noticed how he winced and held his shoulder once you turned away, you'd noticed how panicked he looked when lost in thought.

- He explained the whole thing with tears falling down his cheeks, his entire being radiating worry, stress and anxiety as he feared for how you'd react. His worst fear was losing you.

- You understood the situation, and comforted him with the firm telling that the entire thing was out of self defense, and he wasn't a monster nor a killer.

- You telling Stiles that he needed to explain it to Scott, but he was adamant on keeping it secret.

- Stiles getting incredibly frustrated and jealous when Theo attempted to flirt with you, but you were having none of it.

- You secretly getting way too emotional about Liam and Hayden's relationship.

- "Stiles, our baby is growing up."

- Comforting him after Scott and Stiles had a huge argument over the Donovan incident, desperately trying to find a way to bring the pack together again.

- Being the one to persuade Stiles to help Scott.

- Spending days at the hospital with Stiles, sitting by his injured father's bedside, holding his hand and trying to calm his constant train of worried thoughts.

- Eventually falling asleep on Stiles' shoulder.

- Joining together to come up with a plan to save Lydia from Eichen House.

- Writing your initials next to the other at Senior Scribe.

- Stiles reminding you he loves you before he gets taken by the Ghost Riders, and you being left with the feeling that you've forgotten something.

- You just don't know what.

- Trying to persuade your friends that this person you've forgotten is real.

- Your heart aching when Scott shows you the group picture, with the clear empty spot where Stiles should be.

- "I think I loved him.”

- Succumbing to the tears that stung your eyes after communicating with Stiles through the radio in his jeep.

- After remembering Stiles fully, your voice was the one that he could hear as he fought through the rift.

- Hitting the Ghost Rider that was about to kill Stiles with your baseball bat.

- You and Stiles sharing a passionate kiss, holding each other so tightly that you feared the other would break.

- Not letting go of each other's hand as you ran through the school corridors, facing the fake version of his mother.

- Sharing a secret look at each other on the final day of school before graduation, knowing that after all they'd been through together, nothing could keep them apart now.

#datingstilesstilinskiwouldinclude #teenwolf #lmao this took forever #itwasfuntho #stiles x reader #fluff #imagines #oneshots #stiles fluff #angst #stiles x reader fluff

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coffeeandcas · 7 years

Text

The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn (3/?)

Takes place after the events of 12x12 “Stuck in the Middle With You”.

Castiel has been in love with Dean ever since he first laid a hand on him in Hell all those years ago. But finally, painfully, he realises Dean will never return his feelings and forces himself to move on. Dean misses the presence and attention of his angel, and comes to some realisations of his own.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9841280

***

Chapter 3/?

“Have you seen Cas?”

Sam wanders into the library some time later to find Dean apparently so immersed in a book that he doesn’t hear his brother’s footsteps or his question. It doesn’t escape Sam’s notice that hiding behind the hide edition of ‘Demonic Posession Vol II’ is a copy of Busty Asian Beauties, or that Dean seems a little drunk - if his red-rimmed eyes and the half-empty bottle of Jack are anything to go by. Sam sits down opposite Dean and fixes his brother with a stare, one which Dean stubbornly ignores in favour of turning a page.

“He’s in his room. He still feels like crap - I told him to go lie down.”

It’s a blatant lie, and Sam knows it. He had seen Cas disappear down the corridor with tears in his eyes and had heard his bedroom door slam. He had debated going to speak to the angel, try and console him again, but he knew nothing he had to say would do any good. The only person who can fix the situation is Dean - if he’s even able to.

“You really didn’t know?” Sam asks quietly, testing the waters with no idea how Dean will respond. Dean heaves out a sigh and takes another sip from his beer, stalling. Then he shakes his head, avoiding his brother’s gaze.

“No, Sam. I didn’t. I had no idea.”

“But…how? How is that even possible? I know you’re emotionally dense half the time, Dean - don’t look at me like that - but it’s so blindingly obvious. The way he looks at you…it’s like you’re his whole world. How did you not see that?”

“I don’t know, Sam, I mean it’s Cas. He’s…he’s Cas, you know? He’s weird, he’s clingy, he has no concept of personal space or communication or…anything, man. I just thought it was normal for him.”

“Normal?” Sam scoffs, incredulous. “Come on, Dean. He may have been all those things but that was a long time ago. You can’t honestly tell me that he acts the same way towards me as he does you? I know observation isn’t always one of your strong points, but-”

“Sam, where is this going?” Dean cuts his brother off mid-sentence with a glower. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have.

He’s spent the entire morning going over and over what Cas had said, both earlier in the day and the evening before, and trying to push down the creeping feelings of guilt. He had lied to Sam immediately as soon as the conversation was struck: he knows exactly how Cas feels, of course he does. He’s known for years. But acknowledging Castiel’s feelings for him? Now that in itself was complex: it meant delving into his own feelings for the angel, something he really couldn’t face doing. Dean didn’t do serious relationships, he didn’t do commitment, and he certainly didn’t do…well, Cas is just off-limits and that’s all there is to it. He shies away from tugging at that thread, because he knows he’s being irrational but he just can’t help it. Dean likes women. He dates women, he sleeps with women, he prefers women. He’s never so much as looked at another guy before, or played tonsil tennis in a game of spin the bottle. Sam had done it, back when they were teenagers drunk on too much cheap cider and the bottle had landed on him and another skinny, floppy haired dude and they had gone through with it. But never Dean. He had taken his masculinity far too seriously for that, and Sam had laughed when Dean ribbed him about it, calling him repressed and old-fashioned.

Castiel may have no preference when it comes to gender or sexuality, but that doesn’t mean Dean finds it that easy to shed his inhibitions. It’s all irrelevant anyway, because Dean does not have feelings for the angel. But just say he did, it would never work or be possible to have anything beyond friendship. Castiel may have been in a female vessel at some point but he is very definitely a man - and a handsome one at that - and any feelings Dean has for his angelic best friend are overshadowed by his own internal battles focusing on that one particular fact. Castiel is a man, and Dean isn’t gay. Cas might be attractive, kind, sweet, attentive; all the things Dean would look for in a partner, but he just can’t let himself go there no matter how much he might want to. Cas is his best friend, and Cas is a man. Cas is off-limits.

“I just can’t understand you, not that it’s any surprise!” Anguished, Sam runs his hands through his hair again, making Dean jolt with shock at the intensity in his voice. “Cas is devoted to you, and it must have taken everything he had to tell you he loved you, and you’ve just…brushed it off! How can you do that?”

“Fuck off, Sammy, that isn’t what I’m doing.” Dean finally throws the book down in exasperation, and it falls open to an explicit page that Sam cringes at. Dean shuts it with a derisive snort. “And for fuck’s sake: ‘devoted’. He is not. I can’t help it if I don’t share his feelings, what am I meant to do? Lie?”

“Well, Dean, we all know how good you are at that because where Cas is concerned you’ve been lying to yourself for years, but no, lying isn’t what you should do right now. Perhaps the truth would be a good place to start this time. Perhaps taking a look at yourself and realising what we all know to be true is-”

“And what’s that, since you’re such an expert?” Dean’s tone is low now, dangerous, and he’s downed another shot of whiskey, but Sam ignores it all. He’s dealt with many a Dean-style temper tantrum over the years and this is no different. Except that this time, everything is different because his brother is so far entrenched in his denial that it’s hurting the one close friend they’ve ever had. And Sam just can’t let that stand. They’ve all been there, they’ve all lied to each other and hurt each other, but this is on a much more intimate level and without a good hard shove Dean is unlikely to deal with the situation well at all. But hell, Sam has dealt with worse: he and Cas broke Dean down when he was a demon because they both knew what was best for him, no matter how much agony it caused at the time. Sam did it then, he could do it again. So what if Dean has to hurt a little before this is all resolved? If Dean can just let go of his own pig-headed, frankly bigoted nonsense then he could end up getting everything he ever wanted.

Sam thinks he knows what’s going through his brother’s mind: Castiel isn’t a woman, and therefore in Dean’s warped brain he’s probably not even on the radar for a romantic relationship. But if Dean could just get over that and realise how idiotic his own hang-ups are, realise that Castiel could make him happier than he ever imagined…

“We both know how expert you are in sabotaging your own happiness,” Sam is starting to lose his temper now, infuriated by his brother’s own stubbornness and blatant denial. “But this time it isn’t just yourself you’re hurting. You’re hurting Cas, our best friend, and I can’t believe you’d let that happen after everything you’ve been through together.”

“Cas will be fine. He’s been through worse than this and bounced right back. It’s probably just a crush, anyway,” Dean shrugs, trying to diffuse the mounting tension. He’s so done with all this. “I’m devilishly handsome, after all.”

His joke falls flat into the silence between them. Sam appraises his brother for a long time, taking in the dishevelled hair, the eyes red from alcohol and shoulders tight with tension, the firm line to his mouth: every signal that Dean has shut down and won’t discuss this further.

“Whatever, man. I’m going to go and talk to him. He’s been through hell the last couple of days, and he could use a friend.” Sam waits a beat, to see if Dean is going to volunteer to go and find Cas himself, but when that offer doesn’t come the younger Winchester rolls his eyes, scoots his chair back with an audible screech, and vanishes down the corridor. Dean listens to him clatter through the bunker, deliberately making as much noise as possible, and slides further down in his chair. He does feel like crap; Cas doesn’t deserve this. But equally he can’t bring himself to go and talk to the pained angel. It’s too risky. The words and feelings the angel might draw out of him…he can’t do it. He isn’t ready to tackle those feelings and as far as he’s concerned he never will be. Castiel will…Castiel will just have to deal with it. Dean’s been dealing with it for a while now, he’s sure his angel can do the same.

The angel. Not his angel, Dean admonishes himself. Thoughts like that just don’t help matters at all. It will all be fine; Cas probably just feels worse because of the whole Lance of Michael ordeal. When he’s back to his usual stoic self, the awkward conversation between them will be nothing more than an awkward memory, one they will work around and carry on from. Because that’s what they do: they carry on.

“Dean?”

“What, Sam?” Dean throws his magazine on the table in irritation, glowering menacingly at his brother as he approaches, looking hassled. He just wants to be left alone.

“Cas…all his things…” Sam runs his hands through his hair, the distraught expression on his face causing Dean to sit up and really pay attention. “Dean, Cas is gone.”

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #Cas #Castiel #dean winchester #supernatural 12x12 #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #dean and cas #The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn (Destiel fic)

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btsburgh · 6 years

Text

Chapter 13 (The Darkest Timeline)

Tawni’s brain was firing off responses. Anything immediately available in her brain was dragged to the forefront like it would help her situation.

SWOT Analysis. How long have I been asleep? When is class? Go get your beanie. It’s on your head. Bradford. Bean’s on the balcony. Jungkook.

Jungkook?

Jungkook.

There was a single fanzine that looked at Jungkook. Eye contact was made and she could feel the electricity. The coursing feeling of sudden understanding that JK_Love97 knew that she was holding hands with THE Golden Maknae. As the girl tilted her head, and Jungkook looked at Tawni, there was no longer anything beyond fight or flight in her synapses.

“We have to go.” Tawni whispered, tugging on their joined hands urgently.

“Uh, duh. That’s where I’m going silly.” Jungkook said, his like 8’4” ass a little bit stronger than Tawni so when he tugged, she went along with him and towards the door.

“No, really.” Tawni urged, “We need to-“

But it was too late. Through the window, she could see the one girl raising a hand to pat her friend and pointing at the glass. Her oily fingerprint indicating directly at Jungkook on the window.

“Fuck.” Tawni made a decision.

———

Jordan locked her phone, effectively ignoring the call from Kim Seokjin, but also saving herself from getting dragged into another 95’s and their mother brand escapade. Namjoon seemed really distraught anyways and was tugging on Jordan’s hand.

“What’s up?” Jordan asked.

He looked away, another notification from Animal Crossing Pocket Camp pinging: Somebody new has moved into the park. And what a shame that Namjoon was more interested in the dispatch page than anything. Rocco was a truly interesting little horse that he was just ignoring because his band was making headlines or whatever. Dumb.

“So …” Namjoon clenched his jaw, obviously displeased with Rocco. Or I guess BTS. How can you be displeased with Rocco? I’ll attach a photo here like look he’s so cute.

Rocco

Anyways moving on

“Taehyung has been spotted in Busan. And Lobi never checked into a hotel.”

Jordan wrinkled her stress line free forehead (stress free because she’s never once worried about a anything besides America’s Next Top Model) and spoke, “Why are either of those things problems?”

Namjoon looked at her like she was actually insane, “Taehyung was in Seoul like two hours ago and Hoseok isn’t supposed to be-“

All of a sudden there was a scream.

No, more than that. A sea of screams. A symphony, cacophony of screams that erupted out of nowhere. In mass, in number, so many that Jordan’s ears almost curled at how polyphonic the sound was. So many sounds it created a perfect harmony. A three part chord.

Then they grew louder, punctuated by the sounds of boots and shoes on pavement. And when they looked towards their certain doom, they saw an onslaught. A mass of women, just charging. And quickly. Towards them. Specifically.

“NAMJOOON!!!” The crowd screamed.

“Oh that’s probs not lit” Jordan said.

Before she knew it, Namjoon was yanking her away and they were running.

Jordan didn’t like Jordan.

———

Bria looked to Yoongi, “Yo, fam, your hands.”

He pulled his hands up, examining them closely, “I guess I do have hands.”

———

Now, it wasn’t like Kobi intended to make joining high stakes video game tournaments part of their lore, but at a certain part in your very secretive relationship with the most talented artist on the planet, you start to make dumb decisions. Maybe because their relationship being a secret is like a plot point? But also not because Kobi is perfect lmao who am I kidding.

Anyways, they HADN’T gone to fuck in a hotel. Joke’s on you. They decided to hang out and do South Korean stuff because Kate wanted to experience where Hoseok lived and all that dumb stuff. She’d been there before, but not like this.

And definitely not when they were high key gaining traction because they were like artist of they year or whatever.

So they went and did dumb stuff. Until the ended up agreeing to play in a Mario Kart tournament. They were both quite competitive and actually really good at Marip kart. Though, Kate had the upper edge because she was a fucking beast with Yoshi on the motorcylce, but Hoseok wouldn’t really own up to that one ever.

They played a few rounds, easily surpassing the newbies who thought simple drifting would get them to first place alone. How naive of their young souls. Then eventually they ended up a little further up. Nudging each other after every match because holy shit they were better than South Korea’s best. Which is insane. South Korea has got mad skills in the video game department.

But eventually it came down to the semi-finals.

And Hoseok sat down with the guy he was against and Kate sat down to play against the random chick she was against. And you knew for a fact that they were going to have to eventually play each other ofc, but we’ll Dave that for later.

———

The crowd was gone. Dissapted in a thorough stampede towards Namjoon. For which, Tawni felt only a slight pang of guilt. Firstly because she sent a hoarde of fully energized fansites against Jordan, but also because she made the decision sans Jungkook’s guidance. Not that she had time to seek it out or anything, or that the decision was bad itself, but Tawni was a pro at beating herself up over dumbass details so here she was.

They had pulled their hoods over their faces and escaped quickly into Seoul’s more forgiving city streets. In fact, there was a little drizzle right then. Just slight raindrops across the fabric of their hoods, and a dampness in the air that they breathed. It might have been spring break, but it was still pretty chilly, even a whole 24 hour flight away it was chilly. So Tawni could see her breath as she let Jungkook tug her through alleys and streets.

She knew he liked to take pictures and be some dumbass artistic bitch because he was good at literally everything for no reason, so he roamed the streets of this city on occasion with his own hood up and a fake name to give when he eventually stopped to order ice cream. But right now it was apparent that he knew these streets. He dragged her along until he saw a little late night noodle shop, and pulled her inside, snatching his phone as soon as he did.

“Kookie, I’m sorry about-“ Tawni started.

But he cut her off, “No, it was hilarious. Namjoon’s gonna kick my ass, but it’s so worth it.”

Well, at least she knew he was seriously because he lit up like a little bunny rabbit. Smiling with mischief because, yeah it was a little fucked, but also oa little fun. The thrill of getting caught. The thrill of sending a hoarse of random women after Namjoon.

Serves him right for getting mad when everybody suggested an acoustic version of Expensive Girl.

But after a couple of seconds on his phone, Tawni realized that not all was fun and games.

“Come on, we definitely shouldn’t stand around.” Tawni raged Jugnkook towards the noodle bar.

Luckily, Tawni was a master at Duolingo and Memrise, and had managed to fully finish out the food ordering portion of the apps which comes directly before the “how to speak to wise owls in Korean” but after “deciphering basic prophecies” and “colors” so she was well versed, but nowhere near fluent.

But noodle ordering - totally okay.

She ordered them two bowls in extremely broken Korean. The woman behind the counter looked to Jungkook on more than one occasion during Tawni’s epic struggle, but he seemed eight feet buried in his phone, so he was no help whatsoever.

But, after multiple interpretations of the woman thinking Tawni was ordering “gay bear noodles” instead of sesame bulgogi, they got their food and sat down.

“What’s the problem,” she asked very carefully.

Jungkook bit his lip, “So I guess Kobi aren’t at a hotel?”

“She’s really not tapping that right now? Damn.” Tawni took a bite of definitely not gay bear noodles.

“it’s hard to hook up in hotels for us. Everybody knows our face and we have to show it so they can identify us.” Jungkook explained, not even touching the noodles Tawni had walked through hell and high water to order. “But there’s also Taehyung … I guess he-“

Then they turned their heads to the sound of a sudden flashing.

———

Like Pascal, guiding his boat through a treacherous storm, they dove into safe shelter, Jordan taking Namjoon with her as they glided underneath an overpass.

They palstered themselves against cold stone walls and just took in long, labored breaths. They didn’t want to risk breathing too loudly and alerting anyone to their location. And a few seconds later, they heard the terrible sounds of clattering boots against cement.

But they grew louder, and louder, and louder. The screams of excited young Korean women filled their ears. Over took their senses until suddenly they were duller, quieter, and became distant. In a second, the hoard had passed, moving on to the green pastures of wherever it was they decided that may be. Not Namjoon certainly, since he was heaving against a brick wall next to Jordan.

“Yo that was intense. I saw my life flash before my eyes.” Namjoon exhaled.

Jordan nodded. “So since you leaned close to death have you changed your mind about that acoustic version of expensive girl?”

Namjoon glared, “I decided I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Understandable.” Jordan nodded, “have a nice day.”

But then her phone rang.

Jordan’s, not Namjoon’s.

Oh shit I guess the pronouns gave that away wtf. Anywys. Shit. Anyways. Jodan’s phone rings and she’s like

“Yo, what up, It’s J-Dumpster. Can I help?”

There’s low breathing on the other end of the line, breathing sh recognizes as Seokjin’s so she pulls the phone from her face and hits the speaker phone button like any middle aged soccer mom might do if her fully grown son had called her.

“Please.” Seokjin said softly. “Taehyung’s gone.”

Namjoon leaned in closer to the phone. “First of all, bitch, why didn’t you call me? Secondly, I’m sure Taehyung’ sfine. He’s probably getting ready to make chalk murals in Busan right now.”

Seokjin’s breathing became heavier, “I can’t talk. Just. He’s not safe. Send-“

The signal cut off.

Namjoon straightened himself out.

Jordan didn’t. “He’s joking, right?”

Namjoon looked steely. Like Jensen Ackles. Or Christian Bale as Batman, he looked steely cold.

“Seokjin doesn’t joke.”

———

Kate had finished her match in record time. As to be expected from the best Mario Kart player in the whole universe. She finished with no problems. Coasting through the course and even hitting those treacherous Canyon glider sections with precision and ease.

Even Hoseok finished as well. Not as well, obviously. He took one fall on Bowser’s Castle, but luckily the guy he was playing against was also a little bit clunky and ate it on one of those ghost brick things. When he won, everybody knew because he jumped into the air, popping and screaming and hollering like Hoseok does. And when he was finished, dashed back to the board to see …

“Wait, what?” Hoseok asked, turning in confusion.

He saw that Kate’s name had been advanced to the finals but not his. In fact, both his name and the guy he was playing against were marked out on the enormous inflatable velcro board they had put shit on. Why they didn’t use a white-board, I have no idea, but this is South Korea so they take their e-sports seriously.

“You’re disqualified,” A man said.

He appeared from shrouded darkness, a familiarity too him as he stood in the open light now. The overhead lighting cast shadows against his face and Hoseok squinted like … Maybe he’d seen him before. Some other time. Some other place. Some other … life.

“What?” He asked, “I didn’t … Wait, do I know you?”

“I am Byun Baekhyun. King of all gamers here in Korea.” He narrowed his eyes, “You may be a more famous idol than me in this realm, but you made the mistake of stepping foot in here. Where I have all the control.”

“What? You’re an idol?” Hoseok stepped forward, lowering his voice, “Listen, Don’t-don’t tell anybody who I am, okay? I can’t get caught out with a girl or else all 10 million girls following my twitter account will have me thrown into the ocean or something.”

Baekhyun didn’t respond for a moment, tugging the dark, thick cloak I just decided he was wearing tighter to his body. He seemed to contemplate the sentence for longer than necessary, the sounds of impatience ringing in his ears.

“Accept an unrightfully disqualification.” He whispered.

Hoseok stepped back, shifting the mask on this face as he looked around and pulling his ball cap further down. I was gonna give him a bucket hat to be In Character™ but like I decided since this is my universes, I can do whatever the fuck I want and I want no balenciaga’s or bucket hats in this universe. ACTUALLY LOVE YOURSELF HASNT COME OUT YET SO HE DOESNT EVEN HAVE THE MONEY FOR BALENCIAGAS SO ITS CANONICALLY CORRECT

Anyways

“No!” Hoseok stifled his voice, “I won fair and square. I can’t just let Kate take the title.”

“Wow, you’re a shitty boyfriend,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes, “But fine, I’ll just post on our Facebook page that you and her were here. Playing Mario Kart. Together.”

Hoseok bit his lip. “Okay, fine. I’m disqualified. Just don’t post any pictures.”

Baekhyun clapped his hands.

Just then, as if it was written that way, Kate bounded up to them. JK I don’t bound places. I dissolved into the air next to Hoseok like a badass.

“Whaddup”

“Congrats!” Hoseok shouted, “I uh … I got disqualified so you win.”

Kate turned to him with furrowed brows. “You got disqualified? For why?”

He tugged his collar, “I uh … I used cheat codes. I’m sorry.”

Kate didn’t really believe it but hey, “So yeah, I’m the best bitch at Mario kart then.”

“Well,” Baekhyun chuckled, “Not exactly. You would have to defeat the reigning champion for that.”

“Reigning Champion my ass,” Kate said, “I’ll whoop their ass, lemme at ‘em”

“A CHALLENGER!” Baekhyun exclaimed, flinging his arms open so his dark cloak spread wide like wings of blackened angel. He then slowly took his phone out of one of the folds. “Let me call him real quick tho.”

———

“Listen to this,” Yoongi held up a finger, looking very seriously.

“Fam, I’ve been listening.” Bria laughed.

“Good,” Yoongi paused for 35 seconds before slowly reaching over and pressing a key on his keyboard.

A single Eb note rang out followed by silence.

“Shit,” Bria exhaled, “That’s genius.”

———

Now you see, Tawni’s a photographer. She knows intimately how cameras work … or at least, she knows enough. Enough to get how white balance functions.

White balance is not, contrary to popular belief, the balance of power that keeps white folk as the oppressors because they were too pale to deal with the sun and had to creat their own toughness.

White balance is actually how a camera determines color and lighting. Meaning that if a dark tone is set as white because there’s very little white in the photo, it will balance the photo out color and lighting wise to fit. However, if there’s too much white and light tone is set, it will blow out the photo and make it basically a white blur of incomprehensibility.

It’s also important to note most people set their white balance on auto which does not handle sudden change well

Meaning that when Tawni yanked the table cloth up off the very nice table in the noodle shop they were eating, the fanzine’s cameras couldn’t adjust in time, and the photos instantly became … white blurs.

Which gave them just enough to -

“Run!”

“Again??” Jungkook looked surprised, “I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Listen, I love food too, but we have got to go, bitch.” Tawni stood up from the table, still shrouded by the falling cloth.

Cameras continued to flash as Jungkook looked longingly at his bowl on noodles.

“COME ON!” Tawni shouted.

Jungkook grabbed the noodles and they bolted.

It didn’t take long for the horde of fansites to lose them as well. Which was a bummer because they’d lost Jungkook and Namjoon in one day. Which is tough because Jungkook is very large and Namjoon is very slow so they aren’t usually easy to lose.

But Tawni and Jungkook had made themselves at home in a very, very tiny alley way. The space was just thin enough for both of them to slide into side by side, the cold, damp brick of soeul buildings holding them both upright. Jungkook was scoping noodles into his mouth by the truck fulls and Tawni’s not extremely athletic so she was catching her breath.

“Sorry,” Jungkook shoveled noodles in-between muffled words, “This is a shitty first date.”

“First date?” Tawni asked, “You mean us seeing Justin Bieber was like a pregame or?”

Jungkook laughed, swallowing the last of his noodles, “As long as you don’t hate Korea because of me, then it’s fine.”

“I could never hate Korea. You’re here.” Tawni, the dumbest person ever, said.

Jungkook lit up a little, lowering his bowl, “Okay, but you’re catching it at a really good time it’s not always like this.”

“What do you mean?” Tawni cocked her head, “What’s different about it right now?”

“You’re in it …” He smiled goofily.

And I won’t even pretend they were gonna lean in and kiss bc y’all bitches know that shit ain’t happening until at least he comes back to America.

But his phone did ring. And he picked it up, eyes widening as he got zero words in. The chatter on the end of the line was rapid and demanding until it burned out, just barely letting him speak.

“Now?” He got out.

“Now!” The other person yelled.

The call ended.

“So uh … your mom?” Tawni asked.

Jungkook looked wide-eyed and bewildered. “We have to get back to the dorms. Taehyung’s missing.”

Tawni rolled her eyes, “Are you for real? I’m sure he’s rescuing puppies in Gwangju right now. Can’t we stay out a little longer? Do they really need you?”

Jungkook looked unamused, “This is my career, Tawni. Seriously, let’s go.”

———

Namdan and Tawkie arrived at almost the same time to the dorms.

Namjoon slammed the elevator buttons, breaking through to the other side and sighing as he did so.

“Gonna have to put that on the list,” Jungkook said softly.

“Yeah,” Namjoon glared at him, “I’ll put it on the fucking list.”

He reached up as the elevator started and took a pen from a holder to write on a yellow pad of paper pasted to the inside fo the dorm elevators. He scribbled:

Sorry, broke three more buttons. Please take from my next paycheck - Joonie

Jordan raised her eyebrows, “That’s …”

“Don’t.” Namjoon held up a hand.

When they got to the dorms, they found it in disarray. It hadn’t been cleaned when Jimin and Seokjin got back. In fact, there was more damage if that was possible. Jimin was sitting on the couch, staring at his phone, but when they arrived, he immediately stood up.

“Hey!” Jimin scratched his neck, “Uh, nice of you to rendez-vous. Seokjin’s not feeling well so if you could-“

“I need to talk to him.” Namjoon stated, walking over towards his room, but Jimin leapt in front of him.

“You really don’t!” Jimin said, sweat on his brow.

“Move, Jimin.” Namjoon said softly, “Or we will move you.”

Jimin swallowed. “You can’t move m-“

Jungkook promptly lifted Jimin up off the ground and slung him over his shoulder. They five of them, four willingly, and one squirming on Jungkook’s shoulder which Tawni wished she was, but wasn’t, made their way to Yoongi and Jin’s room at the end of the hall.

“No!” Jimin shouted, “You don’t want to do this!”

They passed the studios which exist in the dorms in this universe because I realized there was a major plot hole and idk how to handle that so I just decide that it’s not the way it is lmao. Then walked up to the room where Namjoon looked to the others as he reached for the doorknob.

“Fine!” Jimin yelled, clenching his jaw and adopting a serious demeanor. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Namjoon opened the door.

And on the other side was Jin. Laying face up, covered in ramen.

“What the fuck.” Jordan said, pinching her nose.

Like we’re talking, fully cooked and seasoned packets of instant ramen, but like sixty of them, because only his head, hands and feet appeared out of places in the mound of stringy noodles. His face was gaunt, pale and worn in from stress and neglect. His eyes were hollow as they stared up at the ceiling and his mouth was just repeatedly mouthing I don’t give a shit I don’t give a fuck over and over, yet no noise came out.

“Oh boy,” Namjoon looked to the others, “Let me handle this.”

He walked past the threshold and the minute his foot hit the floor beyond the door Jin halted his chant. Namjoon took another tentative step inside and Jin slowly, in the way a body might rise from the dead, tilted his head up to look at Namjoon.

Jin spoke with a high accent, one entirely made up as well. “Oh! It’s my betrothed come back from war. Lydia, how I’ve missed your face.”

“Not … Lydia.” Namjoon said slowly, shaking his head and taking more careful steps across the room towards the pile of noodlejin.

Jin followed him intently with his eyes but remained motionless as he rounded to come squat by his side. “Oh Lydia, how are the valkyries fairing these days? I hope you haven’t fought too hard, my love.”

“Still not Lyida,” Namjoon sighed, falling into a cross-legged position next to Jin and letting out a sigh, “Or a valkyrie for that matter.”

Jin didn’t respond, mouthing nonsense for just a moment until his gathered something else in his jumbled brain. “Lydia, you’re frightening me.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. Alright, I’m Lydia. Yo, whaddup, Lydia in the house.”

Jin smiled, “Ah, Lydia. How I’ve missed your humor. Always the trickster you. However, I do have to admit that things have no been well in your absence. The Kingdom is in disarray.”

“How so?” Namjoon asked.

“We’ve lost a squire, Kim Taehyung. You may remember him. He was always a bit odd. But he’s been taken from us. I fear,” Jin looked back towards the ceiling with his hollow eyes, “For the worst.”

“The worst?” Namjoon asked, “What do you mean?”

Jin shook his head. Denying any further comment.

“Come on, Jin. Tell me.”

Jin looked to Namjoon, but kept his mouth shut, turning back to the ceiling. “It’s unspeakable.”

Namjoon let his head fall, staring down at his feet for a moment. This has only happened once before. When Hoseok got sick off of a dish Jin made, he wrapped himself in carefully deconstructed bento boxes and called himself Mr. Roboto for 36 hours until eventually Namjoon snapped him out of it.

“Jin. I need you back, buddy. I know you’re blaming yourself for whatever happened but you can’t make multiple personalities every time something goes wrong that you decide is your fault.”

Jin sighed, “Lydia … I fear I am too far gone.”

“Jin.” Namjoon looked him in the eyes. “They named somebody else World Wide Handsome.”

There was a moment of silence.

Then Jin snapped up, the mound of noodles slopping away and spilling into Namjoon’s lap as Jin sat up wearing a t-shirt and boxers. “Hold the fucking phone, bitch, what?”

Jungkook shook his head, “I don’t know how Namjoon does it.”

———

“Alright, so Taehyung’s been kidnapped.” Jin said, pointing a stick at 20 pieces of printer paper Jimin and Jungkook had taped to the wall and scribbled details of a plan on. “By some sort of high risk Korean gang. They left me a voicemail saying we can come with four bajillion won by ourselves tomorrow at noon to these coordinates.” He slapped the stick to a poorly drawn image the resembled Apple Maps and a pin where the coordinates led. “Or they’ll send a real ransom to bighit.”

“Oh,” Jimin leaned back on the couch, “That’s fine. Let the authorities handle it once they send a ransom, he’ll be fine.”

“There’s more.” Jin cleared his throat, “They’ll send his nudes to AllKPOP.”

“Shit,” Namjoon breathed, “We gotta make that drop tomorrow.”

“But we don’t have four bajillion dollars.” Jungkook noted, leaning up from the tiny armchair that he and Tawni had crammed themselves into. “And we don’t know where Kate, Hobi, Bria, or Yoongi are either.”

“Oh, well,” Jimin raised his hand, “Yoongi’s here actually.”

———

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Jin held three fingers to Yoongi’s face.

Yoongi concentrated on his fingers for a very, very long time before breaking down into laughter, “These are Jin’s hands, not Hoseok’s!”

Bria leaned forward and grabbed Jin’s hand. “You’re right! What the fuck, this buzzfeed quiz is so hard!”

“Next one!” Yoongi leaned back in his chair.

Jin nodded, “Yeah, they’re gone.”

“Gone with the wind,” Yoongi said softly, “A good novel.”

“I want to see the movie,” Bria said too, “Should we go?”

“Shit, right now?” Young looked at his bare wrist, “The movie theaters don’t open until noon here.”

“Oh, we have an hour or two,” Bria settled back in the couch to wait.

Jungkook looked between them, “It’s 10 PM, guys.”

Yoongi scrunched his eyebrows together before bringing his wrist back up and looking at it more closely, “You’re definitely wr-“

Namjoon burst out, “THERES NO WATCH ON YOUR WRIST YOONGI!!”

“Cool!!” Jin and Jungkook grabbed Namjoon and pulled him back and to the other side of the studio. They held him firmly as he thrashed, random and uncontrollable rage taking his body suddenly.

“Cool!” Jin yelled, “Stay cool!”

Namjoon took a slow deep breath. “You’re right man, we gotta figure this out.”

“Yeah, we found two. We just need one more couple and then we’re good. We can figure out how to retrieve Taehyung in the morning and-“ Just then Jungkook’s phone rang and he took the call, stepping away for a moment and plugging one ear.

“Actually,” Jimin said, “If we can find Hoseok and Kate then I think I have a plan for getting Taehyung back. But we need all hands on deck.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded even though he was on a phone call so nobody could hear him, “I’ll be there in ten.”

Everybody looked at him as he turned back to address the crowd, suddenly calm. “So … I know where Kate and Hoseok are. But I have to be the one that gets them.”

“I’ll go with.” Tawni said.

Namjoon agreed, “Good idea, if he’s dressed up and with a girl nobody will suspect it’s Jungkook.”

“Hey, I’m-“

Jimin interrupted Jungkook, “And we can stay here and prepare for getting Taehyung tomorrow. But we’re gonna need lots and lots of black clothing.”

“Shit,” Yoongi laughed from the couch, “That’s crazy. I have lots of black clothing.”

Jordan nodded, “Let’s get cooking.”

#chapter 13

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