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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

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Total Drama Villains x Reader || Drabble Set

Plot: You forget to take a towel to the shower and only realise after the shower, so you open the window to stick your head out and ask whoever's out there (Hoping someone is out there) to grab you one but to your chagrin- there's just a villain.

Includes: Chris, Heather, Mal and Scott.

Warnings: Mmmm, I dont think so. Swearing? A kiss?

~~~

All:

You slowly look around the room, very very aware of the fact that you're naked and cold in a room that does not have a great lock on it. "Ohhhhhh no." The words come out low and steady... but are just brimming with panic.

No. Towel.

No towel!!

Finally you gasp, covering the bottom half of your face with your hands and looking at the benches and the sinks in dread. You accidentally came in here without a towel!!

The sudden sound of footsteps out the back of the cabin rips a gasp from your throat and you lunge at the window, unlatching the lock and opening it to see who it is. Before you even stick your head out, you're calling for whoever it to stop. Please. Hold on! I need your help!

Chris McLean:

*You are an adult camper.

When you actually see who's standing out there, you groan. Chris McLean stands outside on the grass, hands in his pockets and an intrigued look in his eyes. He know's he's about to be amused, or he's going to amuse himself depending on what kind of trouble you're in- or what kind of help you apparently need.

"What's up?~"

"Nevermind."

"Oh no no no! Come on, you can confide in Uncle Chris, cant you?"

A whine tumbles out of you. Uncle Chris?? Grooooooooss. He see's and acknowledges your disgusted reaction to him calling himself that, but just giggles. He doesn't leave, to your utter annoyance.

What other choice do you have?? Rolling your eyes, you look down at your feet instead of meeting his beady eyes and wiggle your toes. And mutter suuuuper quietly, half hoping he doesn't hear you. "I forgot to bring a towel... and I really need one... " And, this part you say especially quietly. For seriously asking Chris fucking McLean for a hand would be akin to letting your dignity pack its bags and fly the coop. "... and would you please get one for me... "

"... Sorry, I didn't catch that. What didja say?"

Oh god. A little louder, you say shortly. "... I forgot a towel... "

Chris smirks at that, rolling back on the feels of his feet. "And? What would you like from me, Y/N?"

Finally too frustrated to keep playing this stupid game with the show's host, you snap your eyes up to his and cross your arms. "Fine! Damnit. Get me a towel, please."

Immediately, a cat like grin slowly spreads across Chris' face. Its the most evil thing you have ever seen.

"Now why would I do that when I could get Chef here to send in a buncha rabid bats with you and flush you out?" Christ teases - no, threatens. But then again, does he know the difference in the first place? - , that famous, alabaster white, terror instilling grin on his face as usual. "Now that's, good TV!"

You groan, head falling back on your neck, in frustration. "Chrr-ris!!"

"Ha ha! Well? What do you expect?" You cant argue with that, but you cans till groan again. "Okay, fine. I'll get you a towel! But what will you do for me, heh? Nothing comes for free."

"Oh, don't I know it. I've been on this show for 3 seasons now." For some reason.

"Heh heh."

"Fine, I'll... " Ugh, something for Chris... You blow air out of your cheeks slowly, in thought. What would Chris like? Well, he'd sure get kick out of you getting one of your friends hurt but that's sure as hell not happening. Finally, after a few moments, you get an idea. And scowl. "I'll be sure to drum up some drama for you. Good TV, right?"

"For sure! Promise?~"

Sighing, you lean tiredly on the window sill. "Oh, I cross my heart and hope to die." You promise him like he's a child, which he basically is. Chris McLean has got the maturity level and the intelligence package of a 7 year old on crack.

"Wicked! Heh heh, this'll be good. Okay, hang tight. I'll be back."

You smirk at his retreating back.

When he finally gets back and hands you a towel - a much nicer towel then what you and the other campers have been using. Which is nice? But also, you cant help but worry about what kind of strings might be attached to it, - through a crack in the door, you carefully wrap it around your body and tightly tuck it in.

"I'll want that towel back" He snaps, cranky. Why?? He could've just gone and gotten you your towel! "I imported that from Fiji!"

Of course he did.

Now you take a deeeeeeep breath, gathering all your courage, and killing the butterflies reeking havoc in your stomach. Then open the door again and grab hold of the front of Chris' signature teal shirt and wrench him close before he can walk too far off.

And you smash your lips together and slam your eyes tightly closed.

When you pull back from the kiss - a horrible, unpleasant, bad kiss, - you immediately wipe your mouth with your arm and let him go. But when you reveal your mouth again, you're for damn sure smirking at the stunned man. "Is that dramatic enough for you, Chris? A camper and the host? Scandalous- I bet we'll be front page news."

Then quickly you lock yourself inside the bathroom again, not really caring for his reaction- which only comes, finally, minutes later when you're half way dressed.

"DAMN IT Y/N!!"

Heather:

"Hm." Heather crosses her arms, an evil smirk on her lips- opportunity has knocked on her door. Or, the inside of the shower cabin. "You need something from me. Well! What will you do for me return? Hm?"

As expected. "I will vote for whoever you want me to at 2 different instances of your choice going forward. Except for myself, I wont vote myself out."

She thinks for a moment, but definitely looks pleased. "Three, different instances of my choice."

Fucks sake- "Fine! Just- please! I'm getting cold and one of the boys could come in here at any time and see me butt ass naked!!"

Uncrossing her arms and setting her hands on her hips instead, Heather laughs. "Oh- one of these boys? Shower? Haha. Have you smelled them??"

You blush darkly at her joking with you; At your worry but not your expense, before shaking your head of silly feelings and usher the pretty girl Heather, forward. "Go! Go! Get my towel already."

"Be right back." She rolls her eyes, heading off.

When she gets back, she reaches up to the window with the towel and you gratefully take it, beginning to dry off any drips from your body and get dressed as quickly as possible. "Thank you Heather!!"

"Mhm, yeah. Sure."

A few minutes later when you leave the door, Heather's waiting for you on the porch and you basically have a small stroke- jesus christ, why is she there!? STILL!?

"Oh, relax. I'm just cashing in some of your part of the bargain." She sneers, walking closer to you and pressing a sharp fingernail into your chest. "Dont forget, you owe me now."

"I remember Heather, we did this like 10 minutes ago."

"Good." She smiles, a tint of evil to it still. Pleasantly surprised that you're being so obedient. She leans back. "Okay, so Gwen's got to go. You got that? She's out. Vote for her and you're third done with your debt to me."

"Yes ma'am." You smirk, brushing by her and stalking off back to your cabin to put away your things.

Heather watches, hands on her hips and her own smirk on her lips. You might just be useful out of this bunch of losers. Not quite a diamond in the rough, but... better, at least. For sure. "Hm."

Mal:

"Oh- Mike!" You exclaim excitedly as soon as you see the lanky, dark haired boy. What luck!!

But then he slowly turns around; A dark, sinister grin on his face and hair over one eye. And your heart immediately drops.

This is not Mike. Neither is it Chester, Svetlana, Vito or Manitoba- any of which would have been just fine alternatives for this moment.

This has to be fucking Mal. You've met him before, and absolutely nevermind on the luck front.

"Nope." Yep- the grizzly, deep voice that responds to you can belong to no one other then Mike's chaotic evil alter. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You continue to chant curses in your head as he turns around fully and comes forward, looking up with evil glinting in his eyes at you like a twisted Flynn Rider to your Rapunzel.

The kind that makes you rather stay inside your tower- its safer here then out there with him. You don't go out to meet the rabid pit bull!!

"Ummm, nevermind! Go about your business, I'm fine here. See ya!"

"Oh no. What'd you want from little Mikey?" He asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side, cruelly inquisitive. You chew on your bottom lip. Damn it; You've peaked his interest. Fuck.

"Um... " The sound comes out quiet and insure as you look down at the grass before his feet instead of his face. You're so nervous. "Well, I... I forgot my towel before I took my shower, and uh... I was just gonna ask him if he could go get me one."

For a moment, he's silent. Your gaze flickers up to his face to see an utterly wolfish look on his face, eyes gleaming with mischief before averting your eyes again to the grass.

Then a loud puff of hard, unpleasant laughter escapes him. He doubles over, holding his stomach as he guffaws at your embarrassing situation. You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

"Oh shut up," You snap, bravely- making him cut off his laughter immediately and look at you. You dare to fucking talk to him like that? "Come on, go get me a towel, please!! I'll owe you one."

After a moment, he stands up straight again and crosses his arms. Yes, he could do something horrible to you right now to teach you not to talk back to him; but it looks like you're going to struggle without his help. All he has to do is watch! "Hmm, nope!"

"Come on!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Ugh." You groan, leaving the window and Mal and plopping down on a bench. Fucking bastard.

This is so awkward. Especially since you know he's still out there!! And he could send someone in at any time.

... Minutes later, and you're still dripping wet but now freezing fricken cold, a towel is flung in through the still open window and lands on the wet floor near your feet. Your eyebrows fly up your forehead, as you look from it in surprise and to the window.

Mal's voice calls through it. "There! Its no fun if you just sit and bear your punishment." Huff. You can just imagine the cute boy - the look works for Mike, but is just very odd on Mal, - crossing his arms and setting his jaw, or even pouting. His voice just sound sooo frustrated. "I'll get you another time, anyway. Everyone will go down, eventually."

"Oh... mhm, oh sure." I mean, I can at least listen to his evil babble since he got me a towel, you think as you start drying yourself down and getting dressed.

A moment after you've got your shirt on, the door is kicked open and Mal stands on the threshold, making you jump. "Jesus christ!- "

"Kiss thank you?"

"Get outta here!" Absolutely not!

Scott:

Peering out from the window, you nearly miss the boy leant up against the cabin beneath you, in fact you would have- if it weren't for his bright orange hair. You gasp, unintentionally getting his attention and smiling brightly when he looks up to find you. "Scott!"

A confused, yet somehow still evil expression paints his face. "Y/N?? What are you doing?"

"Well farm-boy, how do you feel about giving a lady a hand??"

Scott snorts, getting off the wall and stepping back to see you properly. "Lady? I don't see any lady here."

Oh- Bastard. You look back into the bathroom before disappearing from the window for a moment before returning, and promptly clobbering him with an empty shampoo bottle. "You see her now!?"

"Ugh... yeah." He grumbles more malleably now, much more open to suggestion as he rubs his forehead. "Sure, now I see her... ow."

Now you feel a little bad. He looks so pitiful when he's in pain... and yes he's a rat but... its still not okay to hurt someone. You aren't Chris. And also you're getting colder and colder as the water drips unimpeded down your skin and maybe its making you soft. "Ohh... okay, I'm sorry."

He glances up at you, surprised at your apology. "Ahh, no problem, I guess... " Did someone just apologise for whacking him on this show? He crosses his arms, raising a curious look to your disembodied head. "Uhh, what'd you need a hand, with?"

"I... kinda... forgot a towel... could you please go get one for me??"

For a moment you watch his eyes narrow and a wicked grin flicker at the corners of his mouth and get anxious that he's going to ask for something in return- before he rolls his eyes and just shrugs, turning and heading off to the cabin. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Be right back- try not to gather too much attention, haha."

As he walks off, you duck under the window again, sighing in so much relief. "Thanks, Scott!"

When he returns, you're waiting at the door and crack it open just enough to get the towel from him immediately- which you quickly wrap around yourself comfortably and sigh. "Thank you so much!"

"Hm. No problem." He huffs, wondering why the hell he did this for you anyway and crossing his arms again.

From inside, you carefully ask: "Are you gonna get weird if I hug you now?"

Immediately Scott's ears go bright red and he quickly loses every little bit of cool-guy vibe from a moment ago. "I-In your towel?? N-No!! I mean- yes!" He rubs the back of his neck, looking away from the door like its you, or he'll accidentally spontaneously develop x-ray vision and damnit, he's a gentleman. "I mean... " Or at least he tries to be.

Grinning, because Scott's unexpectedly cute now that you've flustered him, you quickly open the door, hug him quick, then close the door again and shout 'BYE'.

#Total Drama Villains x Reader #Total Drama Island #Total Drama All Star #Total Drama Revenge Of The Island #td x reader #Chris McLean #td Heather #td mal #td Scott #Td Heather x Reader #td Heather Imagine #td Scott x Reader #td Scott Imagine #Total Drama Imagine #Chriss McLean x Reader #Chris Mclean Imagine #td Mal x Reader #td Mal Imagine

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

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Blood in the Library

Well, I finished it even though I was planning on posting it tomorrow. Not my grandest piece, but to me it has a delectable taste of whump and a little comfort seasoning. Mmmm yum. You can tell I'm hungry. Anway, this is shorter than normal, but, not to be a spoiler, still has my classic cliffhanger.

Warnings: gorey descriptions of blood, collapse/loss of consciousness, descriptions of murder, begging, descriptions of someone's lack of weight and muscles

Then he just... collapsed?

Fell down the stairs in epic slow-mo, eyes turning white just before his head cracked against the concrete surface. Face growing into a snowy blanch as his injuries caught up to his rapidly tiring body.

Civilian rushed forward in a desperate attempt to catch him, but it was an effort close to pointless. He had already fallen deep into a pit of blackness and painless sleep.

Civilian scooped up his fevered body and hugged him close. His bloody head lolled limply across her chest until it settled in the crease of her shoulder, content to just rest there for eternity.

Civilian's eyes scouted his body, taking in the countless bruises and pools of blood. It was a horrendous sight- one that would make a squeamish person retch with revolting nausea. But she wasn't one for that, so she pressed her hands firmly against the worst of the bubbling blood geysers to staunch the streaming flow.

When the blood flow minimized to a manageable amount, she grabbed her phone and proceeded to call the ambulance, but a weak hand stopped her.

Civilian looked down to see fluttering indigo-colored eyes meeting her own rustic browns. They were, indeed, more than beautiful- dare say, gorgeous to some degree. Civilian couldn't help but admire them. The way green swirled into navy... it was a sight that she didn't want to stop seeing.

But of course, her wish was denied when the poking and prodding of the situation reminded her that the injured man was awake and quite distressed.

"No," he begged. "No...nnn, no stop stop... phsl-phslease please no." His shaky hand floated about aimlessly, but the dark azure eyes guaranteed the intensity of the weakly said plea.

For a split second, Civilian was dumbfounded before realizing that she needed to comfort and soothe the man.

"Hey," she set down the phone. Immediately, the man's anguished features relaxed, looking approvingly at the laid phone.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," she told him, not quite understanding his sudden placidity- the painless look of serenity in those irises. It was as if all agony faded with the simple gesture, but the quivering of his lips and sporadic twitches determined otherwise.

"Not that," he slurred in incomplete syllables, his eyes closing despite his best efforts to stay conscious.

"Okay," Civilian went to pick up her phone again, to call the much needed paramedic, but a sudden outburst from the man made her drop the phone, startled.

"No amb'lanch," he cried, but it was a waste if energy. His head dropped back against her, eyes rolling backwards once again. Civilian shook him to the waking world.

"Who are you?" She asked as if that would give her some clearance about not calling the ambulance.

"Villain..." He mumbled, slurred and incoherent, but Civilian heard it as if it was screamed at her. Then, his eyes shut all the way and he was lost to the world.

Civilian dropped the man and scurried to her feet, hands grappling at her cheeks. It was... Villain. One of the most feared criminals in the whole city. The one who strung people up by wires to slowly kill them in the most gruesome way possible.

The one that even heroes didn't dare to cross.

And he was passed out at her feet, bleeding and barely breathing.

She should've turned him in. Turned him in so that the proper authorities could finally arrest the menace that plagued the city- especially now that he was subdued and probably very compliant.

Yet... he was shivering. Shivering from the cold, exhaustion, and pain. It would be merciless to leave him to suffer- possibly die- alone. Civilian had some morals affer all.

Villain didn't. That much was clear from the way he razed cities to the ground. It was clear from the way he mercilessly slaughtered innocents. And it was more than clear when he threw bombs in front of traffic to kill and destroy everything within a half mile radius.

But he was injured.

But he had killed so many others without even blinking an eye.

No one else had to die.

Now, Civilian was not a model of muscles. She was more accurately described as a "bag of bones". Heck, some people even told her to go to a doctor- she had grown in size since then, but still.

So, linking her arms and dragging the villain a foot unlocked new muscles that she didn't even know she had. Not that she had the muscles, but after walking just a little bit, she was exhausted and sore.

"How?" She sighed and slumped down to the ground. The villain was still asleep, not bothered by the ninety degree turn Civilian maneuvered him in.

The library that Civilian volunteered at was lazily sitting itself against the sunset in a silhouetted painting. The stairs leading up to it- the ones Villain fell down- weren't too tall... ish? No, they towered over the pair, guarding the marbled building. White pillars supported the small tiled canopy with vigor, giving the quaint building a classic Roman Empire vibe.

Inside was a small isolated office where Civilian spent her lunch break. It had an expresso machine to satisfy her zealous cravings for the brunette liquid with white creamer topping.

It also had a couple comfortable bean bags that were perfect for the villain to recline upon until he woke up. It wasn't like Civilian was planning on actually tending to the vibrant red gashes. Dragging him to a heated room was enough- a gifted treasure to the villain, she believed- and it would be unlawful to go any further.

It took maybe an hour until the fit figure and skinny one barged through the glass door- the only portion of the exterior that did not hold that Pompeii look. Civilian was dripping with sweat, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Villain had not moved. His face was still and lubricant.

Civilian laid Villain upon the red castle-like carpet that spread through the hallway of the library before shutting the dark sky out, closing the door and locking it.

She then took Villain to the earlier mentioned office with more ease for the red carpet made him slide like a bolt drenched in WD-40. She opened the office. Thankfully, unlike every other room in the building, the walls barricading it were made of plaster, not transparent diamond-shaped panel windows.

She laid him upon a gray beanbag and assessed his wounds before turning to leave.

But a small whimper made her spin back around.

Villain was awake, taking in his surroundings with dazed interest- not really understanding, but realizing his situation, or dilemma, depending on what his half-delirious mind thought. Finally, after a few slow moments of searching the walls for some hidden answer, those dazzling- and slightly familiar- eyes landed on the tiny body of Civilian.

Civilian didn't know what to say. Any statement her mind conjured was shot down with a contradicting question of "what if he asks this" or "won't that make me seem like I care for him".

So she settled on a simple question that anyone would've ask anyone.

"How are you feeling?"

The villain took a while to make sense of the peculiar question. He was, in fact, never asked that from anyone.

Not even-

He shuddered, not wanting to think of the one person who might've once cared for him.

"Weird," the villain replied, eyes shifting downwards to study the masterpiece done on him. Like paint, once it dried on the flesh-covered canvas, it would be an artist's hard work.

The end result.

"Like how?" Civilian wondered, despite her natural instincts to leave.

"Dizzy? Pain, hurts. Don't know," Villain forced himself to meet those kind looking eyes.

"You lost a lot of blood," Civilian answered, setting her body next to his. "I'm pretty sure these need stitches."

Villain nodded, blue eyes ragged with an uncharacteristic emotion. Fear, almost.

"You... Civ'lian?" Villain slurred, his body threatening to shut down once again.

"Yes," Civilian replied. "I am. And you are Villain." The words tasted like hot sauce in her mouth. She just admitted outloud to herself that she was caring for a villain. The most notoriously evil villain in the city, if that fact wasn't stated enough.

"Know you..."

"No, I think you are delirious."

"No. Know you," the villain asserted.

"Okay... who did this to you?" Civilian asked, watching the rapidly fading Villain's face.

"My boss and m' brother," the villain responded, his eyes slipping shut. "...Hero."

The world seemed to stop as the last word was uttered. Hero?

Those eyes. The familiar captivating gaze held in those blueberry-flavored irises. The notable green swirls, speckles of black dust... those were Hero's eyes.

Those were her boyfriend's eyes.

#villain whumpee #civilian caretaker #hero whumper #villain x civilian #writing #hero x civilian #blood tw #tw death mention #heros and villains

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skelanonymous · 4 years

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Killermare - Little Moon

Very brief setup. Made in an AU where Dream defeats Nightmare and becomes god of both positivity and negativity, but Nightmare barely lives. He’s close to mortal (uncorrupted) and living alone in a random AU, but bad guys squad finds him and just chill a lot since they all realized that they might be the only friends they had. Established Killermare.

Words: 1.3k

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“What’s up Nightlight?” Killer closed the door behind him. He’d re-picked up the habit pretty quickly when the rest of the guys started making themselves at home in the small house. Nightmare sat at the edge of the bed, leaning back on his arms. His face was flushed purple, very nervous and opposite of his body language. It was amazing how much the corruption had hid or eradicated in his boyfriend.

“I wanted to speak with you alone.” His voice was soft, not the piercing presence of a king, not the sharp but clear voice audible at every volume. This felt close, private. Nightmare’s less aggressive side was new to all of them.

“Well you got my attention. Not that you don’t have it all the time anyway.” Killer’s smile climbed into something sly. He cupped a purple cheek in his right hand, the curve of Night’s hip in his left. His thumb rubbed softly into the ecto he could feel underneath (he’d gotten a peek when Nightmare had leaned back, a thin line of purple barely visible under his clothes), wondering why he was summoned when this didn’t feel like that kind of night. “So what’s up Boss?”

He laughed at Nightmare’s annoyed pout. He leaned in to kiss it happily. His hand tilted back Night’s head, mouth opening to deepen the little kiss, though he didn’t delve too deep. Killer wouldn’t be able to stop if he got too far.

“I told you not to call me that.” Nightmare’s eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I’m not the boss of any of you anymore. I have nothing but my life, and barely that.” His hands rested at the base of his hood, playing with the strings to tighten it. “I don’t want you to think of me as some lord you must obey. Especially not now.”

Killer pushed him back, hovering over his body. He pinned Night with just his stare.

“I obey you when I want to. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less. You just happen to be a little more...academic than me.” Not smart, never smart. He and Dust both had a long life full of planning and killing. Dust had him beat in pure power, but his head was screwed on a little tighter and that edge made a lot of difference. He could plan, but the long overarching consequences of actions were more Nightmare’s game.

Night still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I know I make you speechless, but this is unusual even for you.” Killer leaned down to kiss the curve of Nightmare’s neck. “It’s almost like you’re scared.” He whispered it along the bones, the tiny gasp flaring up the heat in Killer’s body.

“I am.”

That drew Killer up to look Nightmare in the face. He could see tears building in his eyes, the first one sliding over an ivory cheek.

The idea of Nightmare being terrified of anything besides one of their own being killed struck him as novel, interesting. Part of him wanted to tease him. The other part, the louder part that gathered Nightmare into his arms for comfort, knew that if it was this upsetting, it was worth him worrying over as well.

“Ain’t nothing taking you from me. And the guys won’t leave. We’ve all gotten used to each other’s weirdness. The rest is small potatoes. Nothing to worry about, no matter what you’re gunna say.”

Nightmare’s legs drew up, trying to curl into a ball in Killer’s arms, so he adjusted to a bridal carry to let him wind in on himself, but still solidly in his grasp. He laid his head against Killer’s arm, and Killer could hear the softest of sobs. He didn’t know if Night always cried this softly or if he was putting on a braver face even in this form. He wasn’t prepared for when his moon looked up at him.

Wide teary eyes, face streaked in lavender trails, brows drawn together in sorrow, and a pained frown, but still on the cutest face he’d ever seen. He’d stared so hard he almost didn’t absorb what Night said.

“I’m pregnant.”

His body reacted on a five second delay. What? His head tilted, eyes squinting in confusion. He was pregnant? I mean, okay, that’s odd, but...wait, how did he…? Had he cheated on him? No, his moon would never. But that meant…

“It’s mine?” His voice sounded a million miles away. Nightmare turned away, a little huff of anger.

“Who else’s would it be?” He curled up tighter in Killer’s grasp. “In even my worst case scenarios, I thought you’d at least know that.” Killer’s face still hadn’t changed from confusion. “Do you think I was SLEEPING AROU-” Nightmare squeaked when his legs were dropped, a hand sliding up from his pelvis.

Killer caught the hem of Nightmare’s shirt with his thumb, dragging it up along the smooth purple ecto. He pushed it as far as it would go before his vision refocused.

A very tiny souling floated in the center of him, a bit below Nightmare’s apple soul. It vibrated when Killer laid his hand over the tiny heart.

This was real. Nightmare was carrying his baby, a little soul made of just them.

“Holy shit.” That was all his brain could think to say. Killer laid Nightmare back on the bed, climbing over him again, stopping his face just above his stomach. He put his head down right over the souling. He could feel the little life pulsing under his skull, and his own eyes had already started to leak red laying there. Killer’s brain only came to under Nightmare’s hand cradling his skull.

“Are you alright?” Killer’s hand laid over Night’s, turning himself over to gently kiss the back of Nightmare’s hand. He left a trail of kisses up his entire arm until he’d reached bright purple cheeks, and then he kissed all over his face. By the time he’d softly kissed his mouth, Nightmare was already crying and clinging to his hoodie. Killer’s tongue slowly tangled with Night’s. The dragging of one over the other sparked soft groans from both, Killer’s hands caught between cradling Nightmare’s face and his child.

“Moon.” He couldn’t move away. His universe had its center, hopelessly trapped in his moon’s orbit until his dying breath. For just a moment, the world ceased to be, held in existence solely by the gravity of his devotion.

“Soul.” God, he’d trade his away with just a word from that smile. He’d been willing to die for just a glance from those violet eyes, the same ones that now never left his side. He kissed each eyelid.

“I love you.” They’d slipped out, straight from the depths of his heart.

“I love you too, my darling Soul.” He felt a finger trace the edges, Nightmare’s fingers so wonderful over his heart. “I...I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. We’ve never talked about children.” Killer’s eyes slipped shut under the attention.

“I had a really bad time with the human one, but if it’s half you, then I’m already in love with ‘em.” He opened them again when Nightmare sniffled. His poor moon had started to cry again. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make ya cry.” He quickly clanked over each of Night’s falling tears until he heard a laugh under the sobs.

“They’re happy tears Soul. No need to apologize.” He captured Killer’s mouth in a kiss. When they could breathe again, Killer rolled them onto their sides, burying his face into Nightmare’s chest and pulling him close.

“Got any names thought up Nightlight?” He purred into Night’s sternum when the other massaged his skull.

“I hadn’t the time, I was too worried about what you’d say.”

“Told ya, ain’t nothing taking ya from me. Mmmm, do you know of any little moons out there?” He could feel a chuckle rumble up from Night’s chest.

“Plenty come to mind. I hadn’t considered them…”Killer felt the hands on his head still. Nightmare breathed out softly.

“Deimos.”

---------

Deimos is a god of dread, but also Mars’ tiny moon. It also leaves Phobos as a sibling should Night have one.

#killermare #nightkiller #sanscest #sfw #story time

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allie1804-fan · 3 years

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Kerensa

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The Griefcast Record

Keanu got out of the taxi at Whistledown Studios and headed in. Cariad and the recoding team greeted him and they got set up with teas, biscuits and a box of tissues on the table

“God, it’s just like a therapist’s room!” he joked

“Best to be prepared! They might be for me anyhow” she laughed.

Before we start though, can I just spend a moment being a fangirl and just say how amazing it is for me to meet you. There are so many films of yours I love – and my kids adore Duke Caboom!”

“ahh yes, Canada’s Greatest Stuntman” he boomed - “that was a fun role”

“and so perfectly cast right?”

“Yeah yeah I guess. I’m glad they picked me from the roster of Canadians they had lined up!”

“Ok, so thanks for letting me just gush for a moment! Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

“First tell me the story of how we managed to get you as a guest.”

“Ok so right, so errm my friend Kerry is the link. I was filming in Cornwall this past year and uh, after we wrapped I was so charmed by the place that I decided to stay and rent a place for a couple of months down there. Kerry was my landlady and one day I came across her walking along the beach, tears streaming down her face and she was listening to your show which she highly recommended to me. I admit it took a bit of persuading to listen, given the crying thing!, but she told me it was more reassuring and uplifting than upsetting. Anyway, so sorry, this is turning into a shaggy dog tale!, so I did give it a go, really loved it

“Oh thank you”

“So then one day we were discussing an episode about baby loss, something we had in common and had talked about before and she said I should do the show. Now THAT took a lot more thought and persuasion, but she said it would do me good and there would be the angle of the man’s perspective and being someone with a public profile going through loss and you know yada, yada yada so here I am, finally!

“That’s amazing and thank you so much to Kerry for listening to the show and for your persuasive talents in getting this lovely man here today. So Keanu, as you know we always start with this question. Who are we remembering today?”

“Today we’re remembering my daughter Ava who was stillborn 23 years ago this year.”

“Ok so would you mind telling me a little bit about what happened.”

“So, ahh, it was in the spring of 1999. The Matrix had just come out and my life was pretty full on. My girlfriend Jennifer became pregnant around that time. It was unplanned and I’ll be honest, I wasn’t super happy about it at first, but she wanted to keep the baby and I said I’d support her, you know, and as time went on I was more excited than worried about becoming a dad.”

“And how was the pregnancy? How far along was Jennifer when Ava died?”

“Everything seemed fine, she, Ava was growing and developing normally. Jen was healthy. Then I was away filming, a god awful project as well! And, Um, ahh, give me a minute” Keanu cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

“I swore I wouldn’t do this” he said gesturing at himself tearing up, his voice cracking slightly “but sometimes, the memories can be, uhhh, very powerful, very vivid”

“Yes you can be taken right back like it just happened can’t you, however long ago - you know I’m 20 plus years out now and still very occasionally I can be catapulted back there. So, everything looked good but you were away, filming - and I’m sure it can’t have been an awful film”

Keanu snorted

“I assure you it was!, yes anyway, Jen went for a last check up at a little over 8 months and uh, there was no heartbeat. Ava had died and so I flew home and she had to, you know, give birth in a maternity unit, hearing all the other babies being born - I mean they have to do it there because you still might need, you know, that expertise and they tried to keep us private but those places they get busy and she had to go through all that with those sounds sometimes breaking through”

“Yes I hear that that is a common experience here in the UK too and one that SANDS, the still birth charity is trying to address. It’s interesting your choice of words: “she went through that”, presumably you were there so didn’t you go through it too?”

“Yeah, yeah - I guess, I just meant that it was worse, more traumatic mentally for her and obviously physically too”

“Sure sure, but awful for both of you nonetheless”

“Indeed, it was” Keanu paused a moment as though something important had just occurred to him “and she was beautiful too you know”

“awwwww” Cariad moaned sympathetically

“she was beautiful, perfect and warm, just silent, still”

Keanu looked up at Cariad, his eyes filled with tears once more and they both just sat for a moment, taking in the pain of his loss. Eventually, Cariad started the conversation again.

“And did you both hold her? Did the hospital staff help you, you know, to say goodbye to her?”

Yeah yeah, we did hold her. They left us be for a good amount of time, they took prints of her hands and feet and a photograph. You know they were supportive in that way, especially as we knew already, you know, that she had died, they were prepared. I don’t think we were, I mean I don’t think you can prepare for that, right? Your brain won’t let you, not really.”

“Yeah yeah, we talk about that a lot on the show, there are people who say it’s better when someone dies of an illness so you know it’s coming whereas with a sudden death you suffer more shock but I still think there’s a degree of shock you experience even when you have some warning.

“Yeah yeah and it’s so stupid, we’re all just so dumb because death is coming man, to us all but we just don’t want to think about it!” He chuckled

“So are you someone who thinks about death a lot?”

“Yeah yeah it’s always there in the back of my mind, spurring me on to do things, make that film, write that script, build that bike!”

“And do you think that’s because of losing Ava?”

“I don’t know, no not really, well maybe a little but that’s come more with getting older I think - I didn’t really have that reaction at the time”

“So what was your reaction, how did you grieve for Ava?”

Another chuckle came from Keanu.

“A more appropriate question might be how didn’t I grieve for her, at the time I mean!”

“Oh?”

“Hee hee you’re like a therapist, leaving the gaps for me to fill!”

“Some of my critics say I interrupt too much and start talking about me so…..”

“We’ll that’s not very nice is it? And also not true!”

“Thanks - Comes with the territory I guess, so please, go on, fill the gap”

“What was the question again?”

“It was about how you did or didn’t grieve for Ava after her birth?”

“Mmmm well we buried her, in the new year, she was born on Christmas Eve, which is uhhh, another tricky thing about it”

“Oh that’s awful, death on high days and holidays just adds another layer right?”

“Yeah yeah. They do - so um after that I went to Georgia to shoot a movie!”

“So you threw yourself into work then?”

“Yup, my trusty friend in times of crisis. In fact I did, let me see, 1, 2, 3, yes 3 movies in the next year and then started training for the Matrix 2 and 3 so I guess the answer is I put my feelings in a tightly locked metaphorical box and didn’t open it for quite some time!”

“And was there intrusion from the press , I guess this is pre the days of the internet being so developed and social media but how was that side of it?”

“Yeah there was some, you know photographers with long lenses at the cemetery”

“God! I can’t imagine”

“Yeah pretty low, right but in a way because of the taboo of stillbirth, people, you know interviewers and stuff, didn’t ask me about it. I mean I would sometimes say “no personal questions” but at other times that hasn’t stopped people.”

“Oh like what?”

“I’m thinking of when River, River Phoenix died, even if I said I wouldn’t answer anything personal they would still ask how I felt, did I miss him. I mean, fuck! Oh sorry I can swear right?”

“Swear away, sure, and god, fuck yeah, that deserved it. I mean obviously that’s a bit of a contradiction coming from me given we’re here and I’m making you talk about private things but”

“But I agreed, that’s the deal here, it’s not the deal to segue from “how was it jumping onto a moving bus to “how do you feel about your best friend dying!”

“Absolutely. So you said you dealt with it, but much later? What about Jennifer, how did she cope?”

“Umm, I don’t know - I mean what’s normal in that situation? She cried, she wailed like a wounded animal. Her mum moved in. I was away and not there to support her like I should have been. We weren’t really a couple either by then. We were going to co-parent but not as a romantic couple you know so it was complicated. To be honest I think a little bit of her died right then - and then she died herself the following April so you know, what you see before you is the last man standing of that family unit that might have been.”

“Woo that’s tough. You’ve really been through the mill as it were.”

“Yeah, yeah but you know I AM still standing. I’m lucky.”

“And how did Jennifer die?”

“Car wreck”

“I’m so sorry”

“Thanks, me too”

“So how is that, being the only one left? Some people talk about losing key people as losing their witness.”

“Yes! That’s it, exactly. Now it’s just me here to remember Ava, to remember her coming in and out of this world”

Yeah yeah that’s hard. So you said you dealt with it later? How did that come about?”

“Midlife crisis I guess - when I turned 40, I had a bit of a meltdown, you know, wondering about my goals, what I had or hadn’t achieved. I basically “ran away” alone to Paris on my 40th birthday, to escape any awful surprise party! And you know, I quietly fell apart in a vat of wine! When I went home my friend Janey was just like “Keanu, it’s time, time for therapy!”

“Ahhh it’s great isn’t it, big fans of that on the show!”

“Yeah I guess, I mean, ahhh I wasn’t that comfortable taking the lid off but yeah it did me a favour and helped sort my shit out. And a lot of the guilt and pain of losing Ava was gone through belatedly during that process”

“And why did you feel guilty?”

“Mmmm well I think I started to think I was a curse - my sister had been sick with leukemia, Ava had died, Jen had died, River, others as well and I felt guilty for that stupid film I was working on when it happened! So yeah, there were lots of rocks to lift up, inspect what lay beneath and deal with my emotions.”

“Well you seem like you have your shit sorted now”

“I’m a work in progress!”

“So now you’re, 23 years on, how do you remember Ava and Jen now.”

“Well it’s hard to forget the day for Ava what with it being Christmas Eve. I sometimes visit their graves - after dark if I can to avoid being hounded”

“What has the world come to when a person can’t be left in peace to visit a loved one’s resting place”

“Yeah it’s fucked up right?”

“Precisely.”

“And what else? , well I do have one little thing that my friend Alex who’s an artist, made for me. It was because of something she said she did to remember her lost loved ones. She would get a Christmas ornament that in some way represented the person and hang it on her tree at Christmas. So she made this beautiful little stained glass bird to hang up on my tree or in the house if I don’t have a tree which sometimes happens. So, uh, Ava’s name in Latin would mean bird or bird like so that’s why she did that, yes so I always think of her then and you know I would think about where she would be at a given point like when my friends kids have started school again after summer break I would think “oh Ava would be starting you know kindergarten or elementary school etc.”

“And do your family share in that?”

“Yeah, yeah - especially my mom. She has no grandchildren so yeah she remembers and we’ll have a moment sometimes yeah but it can be lonely, not having the other parent there who shares the same loss.”

“Yes I’m sure it is. Grief can be very lonely sometimes. Well, Keanu I really can’t thank you enough for coming on my little podcast and sharing your experience of baby loss and loss in the public spotlight with us today. Thank you so much for telling us about your beautiful baby girl Ava and her mum Jen.”

“Thanks for having me - I know this might sound weird, but it’s been a pleasure talking with you and remembering them today so, thank you and thanks to Kerry who suggested it. She said it would be good for my soul and she, as always, was right!”

@fortheloveoffanfic @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @paperplanesandwallflowers @patric9

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu #keanu reeves #keanu reeves ofc

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satsuma-saturn · 4 years

Text

Dance with the Devil - Lucifer x Reader

A/N: i actually wrote this one before my Beel x Reader fic, but i decided that this one needed some revising, so i spent some time editing it. this is a songfic, which the Beel x Reader fic was supposed to be, but it just didn’t happen. props to anyone who can figure out what the song was supposed to be in that fic. also props to anyone who knows the song in this fic

WC: 2020

Warnings: none :)

Fic is below the cut .3.

Here I stand, helpless and left for dead...

He holds your body flush against his, his movements slow and steady. A chill runs down your spine, but you are not positive if it’s from the biting cold of the room, or his proximity to you. One hand sits on your waist, gripping it a little too tight, while the other holds one of yours, molding it to fit into his. You feel like putty in his hands.

Close your eyes. So many days go by. Easy to find what’s wrong, harder to find what’s right...

“One, two, three, four.” Quietly, he counts the steps, leading you in the direction he wishes to go. Occasionally, you have to make sure you don’t trip over his feet, or your own. Easier said than since, since you have two left feet, so to speak. You didn’t waltz, after all. In fact, you have never learned, which landed you in Lucifer’s study, dancing to some song that you don’t know. The music plays from a phonograph, fitting for a demon as old as he. Everything in his study seems old, yet he remains ageless. Beautiful. It reminds you of your own mortality.

“It’s Mozart. Lacrimosa. It’s quite famous, actually, and I’m surprised that you haven’t heard of it. It is from the human world, after all, and I thought humans liked classical music,” Lucifer says, as he continues guiding you through the steps of the dance. Did he read your mind? You aren’t sure, but oftentimes it feels as if he can. The hilarity of the idea of him reading your mind almost causes you to burst into hysterics, but you keep your cool. After all, your thoughts skitter through your mind, not unlike a hamster running on a hamster wheel. In other words, chaotic.

“I don’t listen to any sort of classical music, it’s not my thing,” you reply, keeping your voice low as well. The atmosphere of the room is quiet and still, like the surface of a pond in an early spring morning, and you aren’t looking to disturb it.

“Mmmm...so what do you listen to?” He asks, pressing his lips against your forehead as the pair of you sway to the music. It takes everything in you not to jump at the unexpected, though not unwelcome, contact.

“Uh...Cavetown?”

He smirks against your forehead, readjusting his grip on your hand, so that your fingers were intertwined. “I have no idea what that is, but I’ll assume that it is decent, since it is your taste. Though, according to Asmodeus, modern humans have an interesting taste in music, to say the least.” Disdain laces his voice, and you can only imagine what Asmo told him. Modern music isn’t so bad, it just depends on one’s taste. You also don’t know when the Avatar of Lust was even in the human world last, so you have no idea what music he could have been referring to.

I believe in you. I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies. I won’t stay long, in this world so wrong...

“You’re moving too fast for my short little legs,” you say, a laugh bubbling in your throat. Lucifer simply chuckles in response and slows down a little, allowing you to catch up with his steps. One, two, three, four.

He reacted with disdain when you told him that you didn’t know how to dance and told you that you needed to at least know the “simple” ballroom waltz. Sure, it’s simple, but you have the balance of a newborn foal, trembling on its spindly legs as it struggles to walk for the first time. You tried to explain that to him earlier, but in typical Lucifer fashion, he didn’t listen. His pride didn’t allow him to, he simply had to teach you to dance and any excuse you can come up with is deemed irrelevant.

Tonight, him teaching you to dance is reminiscent of the retreat at Lord Diavolo’s castle. He danced with you then, too, but he wasn’t interested in teaching you to dance at the time. In fact, you very quickly found out that it was just an excuse for him to get close to you to threaten you. Fun. You remember being mildly frightened for your life, until the song changed and Solomon rescued you, sweeping you away. The wizard man is shady as hell, but you were definitely grateful for him then. You’re more relaxed tonight, since it’s the two of you, and he’s not threatening you. For now.

Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight. Don’t you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight...

His crimson eyes are irresistible, drawing you in and holding you captive. A smirk ghosts the corners of his mouth as he catches onto your staring, tightening his grip on your waist. He always seems to catch on whenever you’re staring, even when his back is turned. Sometimes, you watch him from a corner in the library where you study with Satan. Often, he seats himself in an armchair, a novel in his gloved hands. After a few minutes of watching, he’ll turn his head to look at you, causing you to bury your reddening face in your textbooks. The study sessions never last too long after that, only because Satan refuses to sit in the library in Lucifer’s presence, so he’ll drag you somewhere else. It never helps that you get distracted by the eldest brother, his unreadable gaze twisting your guts.

Trembling, crawling across my skin. Feeling your cold, dead eyes, stealing the life of mine…

A feeling bubbles inside of you, similar to when you first formed your pact with him. When he told you that you belonged to him. You were his. He didn’t form a pact with you, you formed a pact with him. Shuddering, you nose into his chest, taking in his warmth. In response, you feel him bury his face in your hair, his breath warm on your scalp. Lucifer is secretive, dangerous, yet you feel safe when you’re with him, especially when he holds you close like that. It would be easy for him to annihilate you without a second thought, yet he chooses over and over again to protect you.

I believe in you. I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies. I won’t last long, in this world so wrong…

When you first arrived in the Devildom, you never imagined that you would be dancing with a demon, especially one of such high caliber. Lucifer intimidated you at first, and he still does, yet you don’t stand down whenever he threatens you. You are stubborn and proud, as is he. Your pride will probably be the death of you, and you wonder if Lucifer knows that, or even thinks about it. He probably does, though it’s hard to tell what is going on behind that intimidating, crimson gaze.

Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight. Don’t you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight…

Lucifer is definitely the brother who brings about the most curiosity from you, since the other brothers are pretty open about their thoughts and feelings, other than Satan, who, similar to Lucifer, is an enigma. Sometimes, though, you don’t even want to know what goes through Lucifer’s head, especially when he’s angry, like when you told him that you met Belphie. That did not go over well. You thought you might even die then, despite knowing full well that Lucifer was the least likely to kill you because of his loyalty to Diavolo. Though you don’t fear death, especially not death by some entitled demon, the idea of Lucifer striking you down right then and there petrified you at the time.

Hold on, hold on…

The hand on your waist moves to the small of your back, drawing you even closer, sending a shiver up your spine. You feel him smirk in your hair, seemingly smug about your reaction. This is the most intimate you’ve been with him, and you have taken on the appearance of a tomato. Leave it to you to get flustered any time you the Avatar of Pride shows you any sort of affection. Even now, as you’ve been dancing for ages, you find yourself getting flustered over every touch and kiss you got from him. Maybe you’re a little touch starved, but that isn’t something you’ll readily admit.

Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight. Don’t you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight…

After dancing for...you don’t even know how long, a small yawn passes through your lips, revealing how tired you truly are. You haven’t even realized it yourself until right then, but you are exhausted. As every day was, today was a long day, but you enjoy yourself so much while dancing with Lucifer that it doesn’t even register to you that you’re burned out. He also seemed to register that you’re fatigued, pulling his face out of your hair to study your face. His expression is soft, softer than you have learned to expect from the Avatar of Pride. Watching his face, it occurs to you that the lesson is probably coming to an end for the night soon, but you aren’t ready, despite your exhaustion. You want to stay right there, swaying softly in his arms.

Hold on, hold on…

Lucifer presses his lips to your forehead once more, before pulling away to turn off the record player. A frown briefly plays across your face while his back is turned, though you do momentarily get the chance to admire him without his eyes boring into your soul. Why did the most intimidating brother have to be the one to captivate you? “Well, I think that was a successful lesson. Don’t you think so, Y/N?” He turns back to you, clearly awaiting an answer. You’re pretty sure that you were doing more fantasizing than dancing, but you can probably dance better now than you could an hour ago, so it may be considered successful. Still, you’re pretty sure that you would need more lessons after, even if the notion is just an excuse to be alone with him. You really can’t care less about dancing, but you’re ready to spend long evenings in his study, listening to him drone on about dancing.

A few seconds pass before you find your voice. “Yeah, I’d say it was. I wouldn’t say that I’m a good dancer now, but I had fun. Thank you for taking time out of your day to teach me,” you lie, knowing that he’ll probably see right through it. The corners of your mouth curve up into a smile as you speak. Hopefully you’re convincing. You really are grateful for him teaching you to dance, but you’re still as terrible as you were before the lesson. No fault to him, of course. In fact, you figure you would have picked up more from the lesson if you had not spent the lesson fantasizing about him.

He nods, folding his arms over his chest. “Of course, it was no trouble. I quite enjoyed it, and I wasn’t busy anyway, so you weren’t interrupting my schedule. I had plenty of time.” His head turns slightly as he glances at the clock, quietly ticking on the wall. You’re terrible at reading time, but it’s some time after midnight. That’s all you can really tell. “Mmmm..it’s quite late. I think you should return to your room to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” A gloved hand waves, gesturing you out of the room. You oblige and step out of the room, shutting the door behind you. Man, you really don’t want to leave.

“See you tomorrow,” you call out as you begin your journey down the hallway, hoping he hears you. If he does, he gives no indication.

Goodbye...

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heyitsbugette · 4 years

Text

Heart and soul

Not even everything in training that Damian Wayne was subjected to in the league of assassins nor the eccentricity of living as the only biological son of Bruce Wayne have prepared him for his greatest threat.

Luka Couffaine.

Anyone with eyes could see that there was a certain attraction on behalf of the heir for the sweet daughter of the best bakers in Paris, who with her kindness and charms she captivated the cold heart of the Prince of Gotham. And more than once Jason Todd joked with Tom Dupain about how it made a lot of sense for such a sweet girl to come straight out of a bakery, occasionally amusingly saying that the Dupain-Cheng kitchen was magical.

It was really confusing when the Robin was puzzled and stressed by feel tamed in the presence of his angel and surprisingly with the famous heroine Ladybug as well. Of course, he was teased until it all made sense to them, when together they find out the identity of the spotted heroine by Raven's deductions, his closest friend and ex-girlfriend.

Raven, annoyed by the cowardice of her best friend, motivated him to go after his beloved right away. The youngest of the Wayne clan then did not know whether to feel grateful or offended when in the end he decided to heed the advice of the young woman of serious features.

His angel through his eyes became more and more perfect after the revelation, she knew how to fight and he did not need it to defend herself, Damian Wayne undoubtedly loved strong women. Such was their surprise when The Jagged Stone invited them by Marinette suggestion to reveal his pupil to them, the very one musician who he secretly hid under his wing for an entire year to prepare him to his debut, a boy with the ferocity of a pirate and the intelligence of a predator to words of the number one rocker in lists.

— Luka is somewhat shy at first, but when my little starlight introduced us I knew that the boy was born to succeed... Come on, dude! I mean-... Bruce, I guarantee that our collaboration between Wayne Enterprises, Rolling Stone Company and MDC will be legendary.

— I trust you, Jagged.

The fierceness in the artist's words could be seen for miles, convincing everyone with his confidence, and if the boy turns out to be as talented as they claimed, the launch of Anarka's son could generate a few million if his strategy worked. Bruce, by the way, looked amused despite the fact that his facial expression did not help at all to demonstrate it, always with his expressionless face and a curious gaze direct to his new partner.

But he could not speak in the same way for his children and how they were inusually calm, the ones who had always admired the singer were nervous with his presence, to the point that they were strangely silent behind him as they followed them, which was suspicious for the family's patriarch, they were not so well-mannered, but always noisy.

Damian, on the other hand, although he found Jagged's company pleasant, he had little mind in the older man's new human toy, he did not have time to be interested in another spoiled child with ambitions of glory and fame, because he only agreed to accompany his family for two reasons.

First and foremost, Marinette would be there. Second, he wanted to visit Fang, he had a great appreciation for the playful crocodile.

— Hey B! So will we finally meet the star boy they all were talking about so much?

— Indeed, Jason. Marinette arranged everything with Miss Rolling and they agreed on a small presentation to close the deal.

— Oh, cool.

The youngest of the clan hid his smile at the mere mention of his muse, heading to the recording studio where they took a seat next to some investors while Luka Couffaine was in front in his maximum glory on the stage, being assisted by a small French-Chinese girl who arranged his clothes meticulously between whispers that were dedicated, they seemed close. They laughed together as they whispered, as if they shared a local joke that only the two of them could understand, but it was when she blushed that the frown of Bruce Wayne's son became more noticeable.

No one with eyes could deny the obvious, Jagged's protegé was conventionally handsome; his seductive blue eyes that saw through his lens, a winning and playful smile. Although the boy was tall and slender, it was obvious that he was not a weakling at all, he had the figure in slim-fit, quite strange cause Couffaine had not exactly the kind of the lifestyle of an athlete.

Along with it, dark hair dyed in turquoise tips and aesthetic piercings adorning his ears up to the side of the helix. The guy in question have quite the look, dressed to impress in a grunge outfit designed precisely by MDC especially for him, he had a style that Jason Todd would say "You got it, brother!".

— Marinette, honey, stop. I think Luka looks handsome already.

— Oh, Miss Penny. He doesn't even need my help for that.

After so tender flirting, the aforementioned blushed noticeably in the same red shade that the heir saw in his furious vision. Did his angel flirt with another boy? But, It's not like he could demand explanations from her and he knew it, they weren't a couple or anything remotely similar. Yes, they were close and they spent a lot of time together, but if he saw it objectively she was not his.

Without option he was able to recover his composure ignoring the mocking smile that his older brothers gave him, he looked uncomfortable. But surely Marinette just wanted to be nice and give her friend a compliment to brighten his day only, that's the kind of person she was.

— Come on, Luka!

His mentor indicated as he launched himself into his couch while Penny sat next to him taking his hand. Both saw themselves as a pair of proud parents attentive to each movement that the guitarist made to prepare, the latter meanwhile looking out of the corner of his eye attentive to the little French girl with tender freckles inadvertently present, since of course she was his motivation .

His actions were unnoticed by everyone except for a certain green eyed boy who still did not trust the musician. He knew his kind, womanizers who went from girl to girl breaking hearts left and right, of course he only wanted to protect his angel from a guy who didn't even deserve to breathe her own air.

The punk man was... Like his father, sure. Or so he wanted to believe.

Oh! Yeah, Alright… Mmmm.

Gather 'round guys

It's time to start listening

Practice makes perfect

But perfect's not workin'

There's a lot more to music

That knowing where your cue's gonna be.

Okay, okay. The guy knows how to sing without the need for auto-tune, he gives it to him. But he wouldn't admit it, flattering the enemy is something that would never be available; he would not dedicate him the mere weakness of raising his ego.

Marinette deserves the best, which is indisputable to the dark-haired teen, and such was his victory when his angel realized the same thing when she moved on off the spinleless coward who was Adrien Agreste. Luckily Luka Couffaine would not last a day.

You can play all the right notes

But that don't mean you're movin' me

But if you can jump like David Lee Roth

Or pump your fist like you're Bruce "The Boss"

Bruce was perplexed at his mention, watching amused as the teenager endorsed the stage listeing with pleasure the laughter of the iconic artist who was stroking the crocodile that was rubbing on his legs. Marinette held back so as not to shout in support of Luka with the same passion with which he cheered her up when she triumphed, a star-shaped sparkle in her eyes was present with no intention of leaving.

If you got a heart and soul

You can rock and roll

Rock and roll

The American tried to no be disappointed when he noticed that she was not even aware of his presence, but would not allow anyone else to know it, he would be weak to allow the rookie musical to affect him because of how well he grabed the attention of his beloved heroine.

He wouldn't give his annoying siblings the pleasure of driving him out of his box, although Dick was close enough to get him by keep looking at him with pity. No, he don't need anyone's pity.

Strum it

Drum it

Slide across and run it

The stage is your home

If you learn how to own it

Like the greats did

There's no way that you can fake it

Just when he thought the half asian girl would continue to ignore him during the entire performance, he didn't count on her swapping seats with the pesky Drake to position herself next to him. Being impossible for the vigilante not to melt before her happy smile and with her gaze outlining that perfect silhouette that he would be fascinated to paint, he would not deny that she was his art, his source of inspiration.

— I'm so happy for Luka, Dami. You have no idea how hard he has worked.

— He's a lucky guy... I suppose.

She took his hand, pressing it a little against hers as she tried to suppress the emotion of seeing Luka start his career, how shes sitll as always emotional and enthusiastic when someone she loved achieve them goals, crying with them with joy when them dreams came true.

Such was the youngest of the Dupain-Cheng family, Damian experienced it first hand with each accomplishment that he got culminated. His angel always received him with some well made dessert and words of encouragement to encourage him to continue working hard.

That's the type of person she is.

You've got to feel the beat before you can move

Even though you're not wearing blue suede shoes

Makin' mistakes, but that won't matter

If you can swagger like old' pal Jagged

If you got a heart and soul

You can rock and roll

If you live and you die

For the music inside

If the one for five never gets sold

Then you can rock and roll

Rock and roll

Luka playfully looked at his idol when he made reference to him in his lyrics, and this one who just left his seat at once to raise his hands in celebration, exclaiming proudly pointed out with determination, as he pull out a Bruce Wayne before the amused gaze of the brothers. He then gave way to a guitar solo finally performed with great technique, heating up the meeting in which investors fully convinced to invest in the musical prodigy.

— That's my kid, you lil shits!

Instead, unsurprisingly, the only one unimpressed was the legitimate heir to Wayne Enterprises. He rolled his eyes thinking that the oldest was a stocking sucker, a mere flattering of cute words and empty feelings.

Someone like that couldn't make his ladybug happy.

However, seeing her so delighted now releasing her hand to take herself putting bot hands in her own cheeks by giving them little taps to lower her blush was the final blow for him to declare his total displeasure to the amateur musician. Wayne hated that feeling of bitterness, so he huffed angrily.

Alright, now take it low.

Now I need my sunshine girl, right here, as the crowd starts to cheer.

Don’t take it personal, mate. Don’t get too emotional.

You know how It is...

"How dare you?! Do you want to die young or what?!" He saw red, of course, the fuckboy is flirting with his marigold in front of him, the nerve. And of course, the musician smiled when he saw him getting angry, it was clear that this was just a game, a provocation on how he was playing with him, only as a Couffaine could when fooling around with the object of his entertainment.

He loved being loved and hated, it was fun.

— Uh ... We'll soon bury him, right?

— Yup.

Jason whispered to his brothers when they noticed the contained fury of the minor among them, they knew that once provoked the assassin prince there would be no human power to stop him.

Rest in peace, Luka Couffaine. Good friend, good artist. We will remember you for what you were, champion.

If you can scream like Axl Rose

Or sing like Christina show after show

If you've got a heart and soul

You can rock and roll

If you've got a heart and soul

You can rock and roll

Ooh, yeah

You can rock and roll.

The performance ended with an innocent smile and an expectant look on behalf of the vocalist as soon as his fingers finished with the last chord of his guitar, so when he took it off he received the energetic baker's daughter in his arms who embraced him warmly when the high command of the label gave their approval of him.

Luka Couffaine would be the next star, the exotic apprentice of the living rock legend and MDC designs' most precious jewel.

Get moving, Austin Moon! Who knows you, XY ?!

— I told you! You did It, you idiot!

— Oe, oe! I must learn better than to doubt your trust in me, ma mélodie.

Tender giggles were heard from the girl's mouth as she hid her face in the teenager boy's chest, aggressively grabbing the lapels of his leather jacket in a desperate attempt to hide her blush at such a loving nickname. Then when looking away and raising her face to meet the relaxed features of the French guy, both succumbed to sharing a giggle at the moment when in a change of position the aspiring soloist kissed the back of the young woman's hand, who he regarded her as his most ingenious symphony.

Little did they know that a certain person burned with anger looking around him in red, after all he thought that he was the only person who made her smile like that. The green-eyed felt weak from falling to something as gross as jealousy, but no one had prepared him to endure a suave musician.

— Heya, pixie pop! Would you mind introducing your friend to us?

—Ah, Jay-Jay! I longed to present you all for a long time.

Luckily, it was the albino tuft guy who intervened to sneakily separate the couple, putting himself in the middle of both while embossing a charming smile and a relaxed expression on his face.

— Sup kid! Here's Jason Todd. You know, the cool one. And these idiots next to me are my brothers...This one at my right is Tim Drake, the coffee rat. And the other one with the stupid face is Dick Grayson, the dick. Oh, and the dwarf is lil D-...

— Damian Wayne.

Suddenly the mentioned one appeared, narrowing his eyes challengingly during the brief exchange of glances he shared with the artist in a non-verbal competition. Too bad the guitarist didn't know he was competing.

— Enchanté, guys. Mon trésor told me a lot about you.

"Ma mélodie? Mon trésor? Yah, this guy is asking for it… ” He chattered his teeth in anger and even without trusting the intentions of the stranger man, as he said before, he knew the ones of his type. Young rock stars were all the same.

— Guys.. This is Luka Couffaine ... My boyfriend.

Has anyone heard that? It seems that something broke slowly inside the american heir as how Damian could almost hear Kagami Tsurugi whispered on his mind: "You hesitated."

Heart and soul - The Jonas Brothers

youtube

#daminette #damian x marinete #damimari #marinette x damian #maribat #lukanette #luka x marinette #miraculous salt #mlb x dc

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

Text

Error 404: “Little” Brother Not Found

SUMMARY: Liam Jones loves his little brother, he truly does. And if that love takes the form of good natured teasing, well, what’s the harm in that? Sure it annoys Killian but that’s kind of the point, and anyway Killian’s still just a lad. Liam’s sure he only just started shaving last year at the earliest. So when he stumbles on Killian mid-dalliance with a certain blonde princess, Liam is forced to reassess a lot of things about his “little” brother, many of which do. not. compute.

a/n: ahahahahaha yeah. So this sprang, as so many mad things do, from a discord discussion about how Liam might react to the discovery that his little brother, the awkward, blushing, nerdy Lieutenant Jones, is in actual fact not so awkward anymore and involved with Princess Emma. Involved, in multiple senses of the word.

I have never been a huge fan of Liam, full disclosure, and I particularly dislike it when their interactions infantilise Killian and take away from his own qualities and accomplishments. So while Liam in this fic does not die or get hurt in any physical way, he does have a few fairly painful revelations. And of course the full DOES NOT COMPUTE meltdown. NOT SORRY.

This is modern Lieutenant Duckling. Imagine Misthaven as a 21st century minor European kingdom.

Rating: hard-ish T/soft-ish M Words: 3.5k Tags: Modern AU, Modern Royalty AU, Lieutenant Duckling, Brothers Jones

On AO3

Liam Jones likes to think of himself as a reasonable man. He’s an honest man, and an honourable one. Those two attributes have never been in question. He’s frequently an impatient man, and sometimes a judgemental one, as his little brother Killian tells him frequently. Killian also calls him a stubborn arse, and Liam has to admit that this might also be valid, but when Killian accuses him of being unreasonable, well, that’s where he draws the line.

He’s perfectly reasonable. Perfectly. What’s unreasonable are Killian’s objections to a) being called ‘little brother’—he is little, after all, by comparison to Liam’s greater height and broader shoulders—and b) his refusal to allow his older and wiser and bigger brother to help him find a girl.

“I do not require your input on that subject, thank you very much,” Killian snarls. “Kindly back the fuck off.”

“But Tink is really nice,” wheedles Liam, as they walk from where his ship is moored in the harbour and into the town to have some lunch. Killian no longer serves on the same ship, having accepted a secondment about a year ago to work on a highly specialised project for the Royal Council. But whenever Liam is in port they make a point of spending as much time as they can together.

“I’m sure she is,” Killian sighs. “Not interested.”

“She’s pretty, too.”

“I don’t doubt it. Still not interested.”

“Look, Killian, I’m only trying to help—”

“No, you’re trying to control me as you always do. I’m twenty-four years old, Liam! I’m an officer in the Royal Navy, same as you, and trust me when I tell you I am more than capable of finding my own women!”

Liam scoffs at this. Killian only just started shaving, he’s sure of it, and the last time he witnessed his little brother trying to interact with a female Killian stumbled over his own feet and spilled his drink down the front of her dress.

He still brings that one up.

The next day he goes to visit Killian at the project’s headquarters in the palace library. On his way there he runs into Princess Emma—almost literally, as she’s not paying any attention to where she’s going, strolling along with a sort of dazed, dreamy look in her eyes, and he does his best to catch her as respectfully as possible by the elbow before she slams into him.

“Begging your pardon, Your Highness,” he says, with a small bow.

“Oh! Captain Jones!” Emma blinks in surprise. “Er—I apologise, my mind was wandering.”

Liam bows again. “No trouble at all, Princess.”

He stands aside so she can pass and watches her go with a smile on his face, wondering if he should tease Killian about it now or wait until later. Liam flatters himself he has a good relationship with Princess Emma; he served as a member of her personal guard for a short time and they have always got on well. Killian on the other hand, always flushes bright pink whenever her name is mentioned and makes stuttering excuses for why he has a pressing need to be anywhere that she is not.

It’s adorable, Liam thinks. Killian has a little crush.

He finds his brother in the palace library, leaning against a bookshelf like he needs it to hold him up. His colour is high and his hair is sticking up at the back.

“Lieutenant Jones!” Liam barks. “You are out of uniform!”

“I—what?” Killian scowls. “What are you on about, Liam, there’s nothing wrong with my uniform.”

Wordlessly, and with crisp, precise movements, Liam withdraws a comb from his uniform coat and hands it to his brother. Killian’s scowl deepens but he takes it and carefully tidies his hair before handing it back.

“What have you been doing in here that got your hair all mussed up?” Liam teases. “Research got you excited?”

“Something like that,” Killian mutters. “I—must’ve tugged on it when I was thinking.”

“Mmmm,” says Liam, and decides the best time to torture little brothers is always. “I ran into the princess on my way here,” he says casually, biting back a grin when Killian’s ears go pink.

“Did you?” He’s clearly trying hard to be casual but his voice comes out as more of a croak.

“Yep. It makes sense, I suppose. Her private apartments aren’t too far from here.”

Killian clears his throat. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Do you ever see her? Or do you hide in the bushes when she goes by?”

“Liam—” Killian growls warningly.

“I’m surprised you accepted this posting, actually, seeing as it means you’re working so close to where she lives. What are you going to do if she stops by to check on your progress? Stammer like a schoolboy in front of the rest of the project team? Run away?”

Killian’s eyes flash. “I expect I’d manage,” he snarls. “As I keep telling you I’m an adult—”

“—an adult, yes—”

“—and I do actually know how to speak to women!”

Liam smirks. “Somehow I don’t think Ariel would agree.”

“That was eight years ago, Liam! I was sixteen! And you know Ariel and I are friends now. You are literally the only person who ever talks about that anymore.”

“Well—”

“Do you know what your problem is?” Killian interrupts.

“I only have one?”

“The biggest of your many, many bloody irritating problems is that you refuse to see me as anything but a child. Not that you can’t you just won’t.” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I wish I knew how to make you.”

Liam feels a pang of guilt. He does rag on Killian quite a lot, it’s true, but it comes from a place of love. He’d been solely responsible for raising his brother from a time when he was barely more than a boy himself, and he loves Killian fiercely. He just doesn’t quite know how to express it.

“Hey,” he says, hooking his arm around Killian’s neck and ruffling his hair again. “Don’t be like that, little brother. I’m sorry.”

Killian pulls out of Liam’s grip and makes an ostentatious show of smoothing down his hair. “Sure,” he says.

Liam feels bad, and he doesn’t like it. “So, um, why don’t you show me what you’ve been working on?” he says, hoping this will distract Killian from the previous teasing.

It does. Killian brightens instantly. “Really?” he says. “You actually want to see it?”

“Of course I do.”

Liam doesn’t quite understand Killian’s project; it involves lots of complex equations and research into things that he never had the chance to study, but he’s immensely proud of his brother for being chosen to work on it. Killian is the youngest member of the team by a good ten years and his selection was a tremendous honour. Liam nearly burst with pride when he heard of it.

Not that he would ever tell Killian that.

Killian’s face is eager as he shows Liam the research he’s been doing and the presentation he’s preparing for the King and the Royal Council. Liam smiles and nods and lets him talk, his mind wandering.

Two days later Liam is back at the palace on business and he decides to see if Killian is free for dinner. He knocks on the door of the quarters his brother shares with the other members of the research team, who inform him that Killian isn’t there.

“He’s not around here much,” one of them says, with a knowing smirk. “I mean, I wouldn’t be either, in his shoes. Lucky git.”

“Can’t remember the last time he actually slept here,” adds another. “He ‘works late’ a lot.” The man makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “I’m guessing right now he’s busy ‘working’ real hard, you know?”

Liam does not, in fact, know. He has no idea what they could be talking about but it’s clear they think he does and so he plays along.

“Right. Well, er, better luck next time, I guess.”

He walks back to his ship, wondering what on earth Killian could be doing with his evenings if he’s not spending them in his quarters. Surely he’s not actually still at the library?

That lad needs to get himself a girl, Liam thinks. If only he would agree to a date with Tink.

The following Thursday is the day of Killian’s big presentation to the Royal Council. Liam arrives a few minutes early, thinking he might have to help calm his brother’s nerves. He takes a seat in the council chambers and looks around for Killian but he is nowhere to be seen.

Then the door opens and Killian arrives, quite at his ease as he greets the council members and bows to the king. Liam frowns. He expected his brother to be cripplingly nervous, flushing and stammering through his presentation, but the reality could hardly be more different. Killian stands confidently at the lectern, looking older than his years—when did his facial hair get so thick, Liam wonders—and when he begins to speak his voice is deep and calm, with a note of authority Liam has never heard in it before.

The crowd is riveted, hanging on his every word. The other members of the project team, the Royal Council, none can take their eyes off him. The king is actually taking notes, nodding to himself as Killian speaks.

Liam catches a glimpse of Princess Emma sitting near the back of the chamber. She’s not officially on the Council though of course she is heir to the throne and so he’s not surprised by her presence at an important event. He is a little bit thrown by the look on her face, though. It’s soft and a bit awed, with shining eyes and flushed cheeks and a sweet smile on her lips. He’s never seen her look like that before.

Killian concludes his presentation and opens the floor to questions from the audience. There are many, more than Liam anticipated, but Killian handles them all with aplomb, giving knowledgeable, definitive answers and not flinching even when the king himself challenges some of his conclusions. Killian stands straight with his shoulders square as they debate, and Liam gets the strangest feeling that both he and the king are enjoying themselves.

Liam is proud. He’s always been proud of his little brother, of course he has. Of course he knows that Killian is smart and tough and hard-working, but this—this is a new kind of proud. Like he’s seeing his brother as a peer, for the first time.

When the presentation is officially over Killian mingles a bit in the crowd and Liam debates going to speak with him. He wants to tell his brother about this new pride he’s feeling, but he’s not sure if he can find the words or if this is really the time or place. But then he sees Killian heading off through one of the council chamber’s side exits and thinks he might take the opportunity to catch Killian and have a few words in private, and so he goes to follow his brother out the door.

So does Princess Emma. Liam bites his lip to stop his smile when he sees her heading for the same exit through which Killian just disappeared. Because yes, he did just realise that he might need to start treating Killian as more of an equal but that doesn’t change the fact that he’ll always be a big brother and he can’t help wanting to witness Killian stammer and blush when he runs into the princess.

He slips through the door and follows Emma until she turns a corner, then hurries his pace a bit so as not to lose her.

“Well,” he hears her say as he approaches the corner. “Fancy meeting you here, Lieutenant.”

Liam halts just before the turn, waiting for Killian’s stammering reply. Instead he hears something that has his jaw dropping in astonishment. Killian’s voice, pitched lower than usual and with a flirtatious note in it that Liam has never, not even in his wildest dreams, imagined he might hear from his own little brother.

“What a remarkable coincidence,” Killian replies.

“Isn’t it just.”

“Whatever shall I do with you, princess, now I’ve discovered you here in this very dark corridor?” Killian growls.

“I’m sure you’ve got a few ideas.” Emma’s voice is breathless. “Brilliant man like you.”

“Oh I do love, I absolutely do. Though I confess they all require you to be wearing rather fewer clothes.”

“Those are my favourite ones,” Emma gasps, then Liam hears the unmistakable sound of kissing.

They’re kissing. His brother and the princess. They’re just around the damned corner bloody well making out and flirting and talking about sex.

Sex.

His brother.

And the princess.

The princess.

The king’s daughter.

Is talking about sex.

With his brother.

What

Whaaatttt

Liam’s jaw lolls and his throat works, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously, but no sound comes out. He doesn’t know what noise he’d even make if he could, he certainly isn’t capable of forming any words. He sidles up to the edge of the wall and pokes his head around the corner, just far enough to get visual confirmation of what he still can’t believe he heard. And there it is. There they are, wrapped up in each other with her back pressed against the wall and their mouths fused together.

Liam was almost hoping that it had all been some insane mistake, that maybe there was another lieutenant waiting in the corridor for the princess and speaking with his brother’s voice. But no. That’s Killian, unmistakably him. It looks like him and sounds like him, everything is him except that this man—yes, man—is kissing and flirting and making some pretty damned blatant allusions to sex. With the princess. Sex that he—that they—ack

Argh

Ermmmbbgggggghhhhhh

Liam’s brain makes a noise like an old dial-up modem as he watches Killian’s mouth leave Emma’s to trail sucking kisses down the neck she arches back for him, watches as his brother’s hand slides up the bloody royal thigh and under the hem of her dress and between—no. No, he can’t. He can’t see that. He can’t think it. He. Just. Can’t.

“Fuck.” Emma gasps, rolling her hips against Killian’s hand. “Fuck, Killian.”

“That is definitely the aim here, love.”

“Oh, God,” Emma moans. “We can’t do this here.”

“Can’t we?”

“No, we can’t.”

No you bloody well can’t, Liam’s brain screams. Please, please, please stop doing this here!

Emma pushes Killian away and he takes a step back, giving her a smirk that is positively lewd as he slowly licks his fingers. She smirks back, completely unfazed, and saunters towards him with a swing in her hips, hooking her own fingers under the waistband of Killian’s uniform trousers. Trousers that Liam absolutely, positively refuses to notice are tented. Impressively tented. Like perhaps Killian is right to object to being called little brother.

WHYYYYYYYYY wails his brain.

“Why don’t you come back to my place, sailor, and ravish me properly,” she purrs, and Killian puts his hand on her arse—her arse—his brother’s hand is on the princess of their bloody realm’s arse—(it was someplace far worse a minute ago, but his brain shrivels a bit and warning klaxons begin to shrill in his head before he can think too much about that)—and Killian’s fingers are tracing the curve of the arse in question and curling around the princess’s hip as they head off towards her apartments, bodies moving together in the kind of perfect harmony that suggests that when they fuck it’s hawt.

Nonononononononononononononooooooooooooooo Liam’s brain is in full meltdown mode now, alarms shrilling and screens flashing error messages and he just. Cannot. Compute.

He was prepared, almost very nearly prepared, to acknowledge that Killian is a grown man now, one well on his way to an impressive career and who has earned the respect of his colleagues and his king. But this—when—how did his shy and nerdy little brother become smooth enough with women to pull a bloody princess?

Where is the blushing? The stammering? The tripping over his own feet?

Where???

The next day Liam visits Killian in the library again, finding him sitting quietly at a desk with his brow furrowed as he reads from a large, leather-bound book. His uniform is pristine and his hair tidy, and his reading glasses are slipping down his nose. Liam clears his throat and Killian looks up, his face creasing with a grin.

“Liam! I was hoping you’d drop by. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you after the presentation yesterday.”

“No. I, er. Um. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Killian waves his apology away. “I left a bit earlier than I was anticipating, actually. Something came up.”

Liam looks at him carefully to see if this is meant to be a joke, bitterly recalling how twenty-four hours ago it would have never even occurred to him to wonder whether Killian might be making a crude innuendo about his penis. Such a thing would have been as inconceivable as the idea of his brother even carrying on a conversation with Princess Emma, much less—

Killian’s smile begins to fade and Liam pulls himself together, claps his brother on the shoulder. “You did well yesterday,” he said. “I was proud of you.”

Killian flushes with pleasure. “Thank you, brother,” he says. “It means a lot to hear that from you.”

That blush is what does it. It’s so familiar, too familiar, and with everything Liam now knows about Killian he simply cannot reconcile these two versions of him, his easy-blushing brother and Princess Emma’s lover and—

“You’re sleeping with her.”

“I—what?”

“The princess. You. I saw—and her. Kissing, and—and—how long has this been bloody going on?”

“Ah.” Killian removes his glasses, folds them up, and places them in their case. He sets the case on the desk and stands, giving Liam a cool look that the elder Jones absolutely cannot meet. “I think perhaps we’d best discuss this someplace more private,” he says.

He does not blush.

Killian leads Liam out of the library and across the small, grassy quad that separates it from the royal living quarters. He nods to the guard at the entrance as they go inside and strides confidently through the maze of corridors to a door which he opens with a key that he selects from his own keychain.

“Emma’s visiting hospitals today,” he says. “She won’t be back until late. We can talk here.”

“This is—” Liam gulps. “This is the princess’s private apartments.”

“Yes.”

“To which you have a key.”

“I live here. Not officially, of course, for the sake of the optics, but for all intents and purposes they are my apartments too.”

“So then it’s not—not just—”

“Not just sex?” Killian smirks. “No. We’ve been together about three years and it’s serious. I plan to marry her.”

“But—you can’t marry a princess! You’re a—”

“A lowly lieutenant in her father’s navy? Aye. And I certainly couldn’t marry her in that capacity. But as a valued and trusted adviser on the Royal Council? That would be rather a different story.”

Liam feels comprehension begin to dawn. “That’s why you wanted to work on this project,” he says.

“That’s why I wanted to work on this project,” Killian confirms. “And of course, it gives us a chance to live together normally, without attracting attention. Just to be absolutely certain this is what we want.”

Liam collapses onto a sofa, utterly gobsmacked. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he whispers.

��Would you have listened?” Killian sits down next to him. “Would you have believed it? All you ever do is tease me and treat me like I’m still sixteen. How would you have reacted to the news that I was dating Emma if you hadn’t seen us together with your own eyes?”

Liam is silent. He’s ashamed of himself and for once he allows himself to fully feel that shame. Killian is right. He has treated his brother as a child, even though he clearly isn’t one anymore. Not just because of his relationship with the princess but because of his accomplishments in his career and the impressive future he has ahead of him, as a Royal Councillor and someday the Prince Consort.

Liam could not be prouder.

“You’re right,” he says after a long silence. “I wouldn’t have listened, and I wouldn’t have believed it. But I will now, both those things. Will you tell me the story? How you met Emma and how you fell in love? And—when you have time I’d love to see more about your project.” He clears his throat. “Actually see it, I mean, and do my best to understand.”

Killian smiles, wide and delighted. It’s the smile of the boy Liam solemnly promised to take care of all those years ago, and it’s the smile of the man that boy has become.

“I’d love to, brother,” he says.

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @stahlop @mariakov81 @katie-dub @kmomof4 @teamhook @donteattheappleshook @darkcolinodonorgasm @xhookswenchx @snidgetsafan

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #modern au #royalty au #modern royalty #captain swan #lieutenant duckling #brothers jones #error: 404 #profdanglaisstuff

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xxxtoony-brosxxx · 3 years

Text

Haha some backstory bits for ZT

I looked at my self in the puddle of blackness surrounding me, but i couldn't see well...who am i? Im me, I'm Ezekiel...right? No,my eyes adjusted to the darkness, who? The reflection isnt me.

"Well well well, looks whose awake! If it isn't my project, ZTS05!"

The lights in the room flashed on and I see my dead body across the room from me... blood pouring from my body's eyes with the chest open revealing no heart

"N-no, this is just a nightmare!" I hold this new body's head feeling shaken up from the sight.

"My name isn't ZTS0 whatever! I'm Ezekiel!"

"No, not anymore can't you see, it was never meant to be. You won't be missed, you're uncle kicked ya out, your boyfriend and you dont get along, your family never wanted you. You had no one! Perfect for this experiment!"

"Wha- no! What am I?!"

"Now I have mastered the power of making a body out of a nonliving substance using a soul! How rich I'll be! Life forever through transfer! Well, these new bodies can die...but the transfer can continue as long as a soul exist."

I'm no longer Ezekiel... "N̸̐̉o̵̎̾ ̵̓̕ỳ̶̇o̷̕͝u̸̒̀ ̴̒́ä̶́̓r̴̓̀ẽ̵̉ ̶̀̓ṅ̴͝o̸̐̎ť̶̀"

...

I wake up in a cold sweat, glad that the rest of what happened didn't continue. I'm not Ezekiel, I'm now ZTS05 an experiment, a freak.

…

"How could you do this? Cato she was a kid! Not even an adult yet! How does this not bother you? To experiment this with a child?"

"He is almost was adult only a few months until, he, would be 18."

"He?"

"Yes he. So...you approve of this, only if it was an adult? Killing if fine to you?"

"Th-thar's not what I meant..."

"But thats what you said."

"..."

"ZTS our 5th attempt, ZTS05."

"How will you make..."him"...well stable? Haven't you seen how "he" is? How unstable?"

"I have my ways, if this works we can be something great! Now set up the room for the experiment."

"Yes sir..."

…

"Cato! He's doing it again!"

"What?"

"He's going crazy again! He killed three of our staff!"

"How? We chained him, muzzled him, and put one of those body things on him?"

"I-I don't know! I go to check on him and there was three dead bodies he glared over at me! I panicked and ran! I don't know if he got out...we was still chained..."

"Then go close the damn door! We cant have him escaping hes not ready yet!"

"Y-yes sir..."

…

The blasted demon took over me again, now they are hurting me...

"STOP IT BURN *gurgle* ST-STOP!!!"

They put me in a tank when I was half concious it was filled with holy water

"*cough cough* AHHHHHHH!!! PLEASE!"

I cried and screamed and struggled as multiple men were forcing me in the water causing me extreme pain

"You've done this to yourself"

"*hic* YA KNOW I CAN"T CONTROL IT *gurgle* PLEASE!!!! ARRGGHHHHH!!! *hic* AHHH!!!"

The water around me started to turn black from my slowly melting form I was in so much pain but they didnt stop

"*huff huff* PL-PLEASE!!! *hic* I-ITS TOO MUCH!!!"

The tears burned my eyes with the water they continued this until I passed out

...

"The poor thing..."

who-

"Hes evil he deserved it."

"He was made this way it wasnt his choice, look at him!"

I was on the floor surrounded by a huge puddle I was so tired and weak and in so much pain, I didn't dare move

"Please...not *hic* again...*sobs* please!"

"*gasps* Oh the poor creature!"

I notice the the man with her was one of the men, I felt the change start, I mentally screamed for it to stop then blackness

...

I was in the form of the blasted demon, I towered over the woman quietly, she shook in fear...please...i didnt mean to, i thought, as if she knew what i was thinking she relaxed,

" I̶͋͊ ̵̊͂d̶̀̓ỉ̶̖d̷̋̉n̵̈́͌'̵́͌t̸̔̅ ̷̬̚m̵̆͘ȩ̸̇a̴̓̔n̸̿̈́ ̵̪͘t̸̩͒o̷͚͛ ̸̤̆i̴̛̊m̷͋̋ ̷̐��ș̶͂ȏ̸͑ŗ̴̅r̴̡͊ŷ̷̕!̸́̆ "

I went on my knees and wrapped my arms around her the form melting away, as I sobbed sore from everything, it took awhile but she hugged back

...

why did she hug back?

…

After putting me in the tank they thought how would it be like if they put me in a pentagram as tests to see my weaknesses

"*gurgle, drip drip* Ugh...pl-please *huff huff* s-so weak..."

"Well we need to know what harms you."

"Mgghh *gurgle* its l-like im drowning...in myself..."

"Interesting..."

"Please stop-"

I flop over trembling feeling weak, dizzy, like im drowning in my own liquids, head pounding...

"No, this is what Cato called for until you pass out. To see how long it'd take you to go out"

I continue to tremble more...

" Mmmm- *cough cough* i-its terrible- *gags* why do you do this..."

"It's my job."

My head began to pound more

"*whimper* M-my head-"

I try to reach for it but I was chained and couldn't reach as I look at the man wondering how someone is ok with seeing someone else's suffering as the pulsing pain got worse

"Please! *vomit* mmmf- *vomit* h- *huff huff huff*"

"I-"

"*whimper whimper* I've been good- for a whole month please- the demon hasn't hurt no one- *whine*"

"..."

I felt my body grow unstable and it hurt like hell

"PLEASE! STOP!"

He just writes something down as I feel my body melt away, I knew if I wanted this to stop I'd have to pretend to pass out not sure if I could but I tried

"...PLE-"

I pretend to pass out trembling and trying not to make any noise though it hurt so much it was hard but it was an attempt

"Hey! He's out get someone in here! He looks unstable! He could die!"

It worked-

I hold myself in place trying not to go stiff though all I wanted to do was scream curling up in a ball I try to slowly control my breathing as someone unchains me in my unstable postition I managed to pretend to be limp the hardest thing I think I've ever done

But at least I was out of there, I fall asleep tired but at least it wouldn't be so bad I guess as staying there until I pass out...

…

"We all walk amougst the angels and demons of this world...we see them like normal...but I dont, I see different people...but as of I, im a monster...a being of three worlds, but display two, that appears to others as one. A creature of sickness that should not be, a creature whose origins should be forgotten yet remain. I'm a monster...but that doesn't mean I hate it. I was never meant to be who I was, but I am not meant to be who I am. Perhaps this is for the better...I was weak, feeble, a fragile human, but now I fight back, I won't be mistreated as I once was. Thanks to you...but this curse shall not sprawl the world and be used as a cure for your weakness. The need for power and immortality, especially not for people like you...toxic human…

"W-wait no! Don't do this! I'm sorry!"

"Its too late...what has been done is done...good bye!~"

"AHHHHHHHH-"

"Its time for sleep. Enjoy your rest eternal.~"

I shift forms letting all of our anger out when I was through the room was a blood bath and I was covered in the substance, I look down at his battered body shredded to bits one of his cold dead eyes out of its socket staring at me as if accusing me of something, perhaps it’s just the inner guilt of what I did talking but I swear those eyes were going to haunt me forever, forever reminding me of my awful deeds I sigh softly and think to myself…

He'll never be able to hurt anyone ever again...I look down at the floor and go to open the floor boards lifting out a knife, "You poisoned me...for the money old friend, now I am your fucking cursed sickness that lives on, til I die, well i chose to live, i am the violence you created me to be! Toxic toxic toxic...it was fun to watch you beg for forgiveness...perhaps I am the villian now. But the fault is none of mine."

ŝ̴̊h̴̊̎i̸̐́ ̵̆͘e̷͆͘t̶͊̇a̵͋͝h̴͒͝ē̶̕s̵̄̾ ̸͑͘z̷̍́i̵̒̂ ̵̑̒ỏ̸̔e̵͌̕'̵͋͝r̴̄͠y̴̋̕u̸͋͗ ̵́̿r̷͑̔b̵̿̈l̵̆͗e̷͂͒p̵̀̔o̴̿͝m̴̛̚ ̸̓̆e̸͂͗ť̵́y̸̒̾ ̵́̓f̵̀̿i̷̅͐ ̴̊͗l̶͛͝i̵͌̑f̷̌̋ů̷͗l̸̈͋s̶̆͗l̷̂̓ ̵̈́͒v̸̊̀ỳ̷̈́o̴̍̉ ̸̀͘

#toony writes #ZTS05 #mafia au #tw abuse #tw abuse mention #tw blood #tw blood mention

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

Note

otp request— 30 21 14 please

I’m gonna assume this is for Renruki, since it wasn’t otherwise specified. I’m gonna answer them a little out of order, I hope you don’t mind.

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

This is a little tricky to answer, because they grew up together, and have been huge influences on each other’s lives, plus it’s hard to pull out what’s them and what’s Inuzuri and what’s their zanpakutou and what’s Byakuya, it’s just a real rich tapestry, y’know?

So, anyway, I’m gonna dodge the meatier part of that question (as if I haven’t written 300k words of fanfic on the topic) and focus on their post-reunion period.

For the better: I think Renji is an extrovert and Rukia is an introvert, and he’s helped her be more comfortable around large groups and to be more social generally. Rukia has helped Renji’s self-confidence a lot (mostly by yelling at him when he gets down on himself) and helped him take pride in his accomplishments.

For the worse: They both have absolutely bananas taste in fashion, particularly Living World fashion, and they bring out the worst in each other. Like, if they get dressed separately, Rukia will show up in a cute little t-shirt dress and Renji in jeans and a flannel. But if they go thrifting together, they’ll come back with Rukia in a muppet fur jacket over a tube top and Renji wearing one of those t-shirts that looks like a tuxedo and short shorts that say “Nasty” on the ass.

Exhibit A:

This also happens in a broader sense, where if one of them gets some gonzo idea, the other will not talk them down, they will get sucked in and things will tend to escalate into utter madness.

14. What would be a dealbreaker?

I am not sure they really have “dealbreakers.” They've known each other a really long time, they were formative influences on one another, and I think they have a pretty similar set of values and life-philosophies. They both have a tendency toward self-sacrifice, so a bigger problem is that either one would “let go” if they thought they were holding the other back or getting in their way. In the fanfic trope where it looks like one or the other of them has some other romantic interest or there’s the threat of Rukia getting slapped with an arranged marriage, there’s a tendency for each of them to sort of hang back and not speak up their feelings until they’re concerned that the other is going to be unhappy. (This is kind of a weak trope and I do not care I fall for it every time)

There’s also the period right where they get back together when I think there were a number of moments that could have been dealbreakers but just... weren’t. I’ve seen a number of fanfics where Rukia is upset that Renji is more loyal to Byakuya than he is to her, except that a) when push came to shove, Renji actually did side with Rukia and b) Rukia is also a huge Byakuya stan for some inexplicable reason. Rukia also is really ride-or-die about her Karakura friends, and she has a few moments where she’s prepared for Renji to not be willing to say, risk his career by deserting for their sake, but this man is always down to clown (for friendship). Similarly, that time in the Fullbringer Arc when someone suggested that mmmmmaybe immensely powerful Substitute Shinigami with no accountability whatsoever were not in the Gotei’s best interest and then I guess the Captain-Commander made Renji deliver this news to Rukia because she would have murdered anyone else.

Look, he’s got an entire delivering-bad-news-to-Rukia stance, I can practically hear his soothing tone of voice: “You know I love and respect Ichigo, you know I would never do anything to prevent him going ham on this or any other plane of existence, I am just telling you that there have been concerns...”

PS: They would never cheat on each other. They might break up if one of them fell in love with someone else, or depending on who the third party was, I can definitely see them trying an open relationship, but cheating would be a huge betrayal for either of them. So I guess, in that case, it would be a dealbreaker. Now I am mad I even had to think about it.

30. Write a short exchange of dirty talk between them.

Anon, why? Have you met me? Why would you pick this one?

Ughghghghghgh, you all know I can only do dirty stuff if it’s high concept, so please enjoy this brief dialogue from a universe where they hooked up immediately after the Soul Society arc and are ogling each other in their Advance Team school uniforms (it’s like... PG-13 at worst, but also terrible)

“It looks like it fits pretty well to me.”

“Well, it fits okay if I just stand here, but look what happens when I flex my arm.”

“Hmmm… is that uncomfortable? It is...very...tight.”

“Not really, but I’m a little worried about the shoulder seams.”

“Turn around and do it again... No, I don’t really think it’s a problem.”

“No? Oh, and look what happens if I try to reach for something.”

“Aah, your little abs are so cute!”

“You think so? But is that acceptable? I mean, this is school, right, like a place of learning?”

“Do the reaching thing again. And I don’t understand these uniforms at all, frankly. Look at this little tiny skirt!”

“It’s pretty inappropriate, in my opinion.”

“And I’m just standing here! Look what happens if I have to pick something up! Or tie my shoe! My shoes don’t actually have laces, but you are getting the idea, right?”

“I am… getting the idea.”

“Or what if I had to kick someone? You say stupid things sometimes, and I have to kick you, and I’m going to end up giving you an eyeful, that would be terrible, right?”

“I’ll just have to watch my mouth, then. Make sure I say what I mean to, eh?”

“Since when have you ever been able to do that?”

“Since I knew what the consequences were.”

“Mmmm… hey, Renji?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“How are the pants? They look like they might be a little tight.”

“They are definitely a little tight.”

#otp meme #renruki #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #bleach headcanons #drabbles

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frywen-bumbles · 3 years

Text

The Way to a Man’s Heart Goes Through His... Cat? Ch3

AO3

As much as Jaskier adores the fact Roach seems to warm up to him, there's one thing he can't stand.

<why>

Jaskier snaps a picture where all that's visible are glowing eyes in the dark, staring down at him and sends it.

<yeah, i'm with Essi, you're on your own>

<don't remind me I'm trying to sleep!!!>

<zzz>

The morning routine is something Jaskier has learned to both love and hate. His alarm rings at 8 like every morning and like possessed Roach jumps on top of him and screams.

"Mmmm yeah, I'm awake, Roach..." Jaskier mumbles and tries to sleep just one more minute. Roach is having none of it. She runs over him, to the door and screams bloody murder and jumps on top of him again.

"Please... Roach... just two... minutes..." Jaskier tries to bury his head under the blankets but Roach walks on top of him and screams again.

"Ugh... you're heavy... Okay, okay, I'm getting up. See Roach, I'm getting up..."

He walks downstairs to feed Roach who keeps screaming and thrilling until her bowl is full and walks back up to brush his teeth.

Roach doesn't take long until she demands to be let in the bathroom, scratching and meowing making her demands known.

"One of these mornings I will get to brush my teeth in peace," Jaskier sighs as Roach curls herself into the sink. This is not one of those mornings.

He checks his phone over morning coffee and is surprised to find a message from Fiona so early.

<Sure, swallow. What do you need?>

Fiona sends him a picture of her math assignment.

Jaskier looks at the math over and starts to explain it in detail. It's somehow endearing how much trust Fiona puts in him and he does not want to ruin it for her. Not that third-grade mathematics is hard, he suspects 'uncle L' just isn't that good at explaining things.

He can't help but venture to reread a different conversation entirely while he waits for Fiona to finish.

A picture of Cat Dad and Fiona. And actual texts after it.

<She's very fine! Quite vocal about what she wants but still lovely!>

And on another day:

Then another selfie with Cat Dad and Fiona, this time taken by Cat Dad. He is very bad at taking selfies, but somehow even that is endearing, despite the man looking like he's a member of a biker gang with the beard and all of the black leather. When he got the first picture, he hadn't even noticed. He had been too distracted by... other things. Jaskier really shouldn't feel this giddy just looking at a picture. Just rereading the texts. But he can't help himself.

The man is clearly crazy about his cat. And what's hotter than a person who loves their pets to the moon and back. Nothing, if you ask Jaskier.

<I'm glad you like the pictures! Like I told you, I'll send one or two every day!>

What Jaskier doesn't tell is feeding the cat cheese every single day to get her brushed. Little treats never hurt anyone.

Fiona sends him a picture of finished assignments.

Jaskier thinks he will melt. While being a tutor wasn't in his job description he doesn't really mind. To him, it's evident what Fiona wants most of all is company and support and he's happy to provide. The family she's staying with is trying their best, Jaskier is sure of it. But from what Jaskier gathers through Fiona's texts, they don't seem to have enough time to look through her school work as much as she wishes they would.

How can two people he's never even met manage to occupy most of he's thoughts?

***

Jaskier has barely put the first forkful of instant ramen in his mouth when he hears the door open.

"Geralt, it's me!"

Jaskier scrambles to meet whoever just walked through the locked door using their own key, what the fuck.

"H-hello...?" he manages to greet through a mouth full of food before he even sees who it is.

Jaskier is not one to be intimidated nor is he one to be at loss for words.

Somehow, the woman in front of him manages to do both. She's gorgeous, her raven hair falling in curls over her shoulders, violet eyes staring straight at him like he's a piece of cheap meat and suddenly Jaskier is keenly aware of wearing nothing but pants and an undershirt, his hair a ruffled mess, hands covered in ink, pencil and pen marks.

"You're one of those... trainees. Melitele forbid, what sort of trash does Geralt drag in here, why aren't you with the old wolf?"

Jaskier opens his mouth to answer but is immediately interrupted.

"No, don't answer that. Where is Geralt, I need to talk to him."

"I... um..." Jaskier gets the feeling this is a person who gets what she wants. She quirks an eyebrow at him expecting an answer and when none come she sighs, a dramatic gesture Jaskier is not sure he could perform better even if he tried.

"Where. Is. Geralt?" she asks like he's an idiot and Jaskier things at this moment he really is.

"He, um... is not here?" Jaskier tries his best. He does. But something about the woman, no matter how beautiful she is, radiates power, like she could crush him without even blinking an eye.

The woman eyes him, up and down and glances behind him to the kitchen. And smiles. It's a small amused quirk of her lips, one that makes Jaskier spin around immediately only to spot Roach sitting on top of his papers, meticulously dropping every single pen to the floor.

"Roach, no!"

Roach meows and jumps down from the table with a mrrrp. She trots to the woman and rubs herself against her legs before she jumps up to her scratching post to stare at them.

Jaskier kneels to collect his pens, muttering curses under his breath.

"You know Roach."

"Um, yeah?" Jaskier mutters as he crawls deeper under the table to reach the pens.

"Soooo, witchers, huh? Interesting topic of research."

Jaskier hits his head on the table.

"Yeah... yeah I. I know it's not the most conventional one but I do find it quite fascinating especially when you look at all of the historical songs..." Jaskier crawls from underneath the table and is met with the woman standing next to him and suddenly he's keenly aware of being in his underwear on his knees on the floor in front of one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen.

He blushes.

He's sure he's never blushed as much as he is right at this moment and he honestly wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"You're not one of the trainees," the woman says eyeing him, amusement still lingering on her lips.

"No, I'm not," Jaskier admits and tries to get to his feet in a somewhat dignified way. He fails and all of his pens scatter to the floor again. "Fuck..."

"And who are you then?"

"I'm the cat-sitter. Julian." Jaskier gives himself a mental slap. He is an adult person why does he introduce himself like a toddler? "Can I please go put my trousers on?" he pleads. Maybe clothed he'll have a chance to be on equal grounds with the woman.

"Sure."

A few minutes later he comes back down, fully clothed this time, to find the woman sitting by the table and reading his scribbles.

"Um, hello?" Jaskier greets the woman again. She looks up but does nothing to stand up to greet him in return. "Julian Pancratz, the cat-sitter." Jaskier extends his hand to her and she takes it.

"I'm Yen. Geralt is my-... we're... friends. Now, where has that grumpy bastard gone?" The woman - Yen answers and looks at him expecting an answer immediately.

"I honestly don't know, he only told me it's work-related. I've never even met him. I was recommended by a friend of his who is also a client of mine. He occasionally answers the texts I send him, maybe you could try to reach him by phone?"

"He answers your texts? What did you do, enchant him?" Yen sounds honestly baffled and it makes Jaskier feel bad. She obviously has some sort of history with the Cat Dad so the least he could do is answer her.

"He only answers every now and then. I don't think it was even his idea to reply."

Yen smiles, a true smile this time, not just an amused quirk of lips, "You're probably right." She picks up one of the papers again and taps it, "Ever met a real witcher?"

"No, I haven't. I've just always found the stories interesting... I have plans for real research for my doctoral thesis as soon as I manage to finish my master's degree, I just need to get around to figuring out... well pretty much everything outside of the basic structure. I already know all of the material by heart, it's just... just look at this, how can someone write something so vile about people who work to keep us safe from monsters? And this here..." Jaskier rummages through the piles of papers and pushes the ones he meant on Yen's hands, not waiting for her to answer. "And look, I even came up with this account of someone killing a witcher after he had finished a job for them, just the audacity of it all!" He glances up at Yen, suddenly keenly aware he is probably either boring her or making her uncomfortable with all of this talk about monsters and monster hunters. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't bore you with this..." He reaches to take the papers from Yen's hands but she holds them out of his reach.

"No, you're not boring me at all. Please, tell me more about your current paper?"

Yen proves to be a far better company than Jaskier first thought. At the end of their discussion and a few cups of tea later, Yen turns the conversation back to him.

"Why do you live here? Wouldn't it be easier to write in your own place?"

"Oh, you know, roommates..." Jaskier mumbles, avoiding Yen's eyes. No way in hell is he going to tell a complete stranger he sleeps in his friends' sofas and in the musicology society's guild room at the uni when he can't find anyone to room him between jobs. His parents already think him a failure, no need to add a complete stranger to the mix.

"Hmm," Yen agrees and stands up. "I feel I have held you long enough. Good luck with your thesis. Here is my number, call me if you get into any trouble while you're staying here." Yen scribbles a phone number on the edge of one paper with a bright red pen she picks up from the floor.

"Um... what trouble?" Jaskier asks, suddenly wary. "I have only told one person the address like was the deal? I haven't told them anything else, I'm not in danger, right? This isn't some mob bosses hideout or something? I'm in trouble, aren't I? Melitele's tits, Essi will kill me..."

"Calm down, no trouble. Just... if anything comes up, like bills or something and you can't reach Geralt. He can be unreachable for days." Yen smiles at him, an uneasy smile, not quite reaching her eyes.

"Oh, okay, yeah, that's. That's good..." Jaskier feels so stupid. Not only has he managed to be half-naked while Yen walked in, but now he has also made a complete ass out of himself.

"Take care of Roach," Yen says as a goodbye and walks out of the door. Jaskier rushes to say goodbye but when he reaches the door, she's already gone.

Come night Jaskier is surprised how much he has managed to work on his thesis. Talking about it with someone made writing so much easier, even when most of the talk was him ranting about the unfair treatment of witchers which will never end up in the final paper.

He grabs something to eat before bed and spots Roach. She sits facing the front door, waiting for someone to walk through it.

It breaks Jaskier's heart.

Roach has done it every night, giving up only after Jaskier has gone to bed to crawl on the other side of the bed to stare at him.

Jaskier snaps a picture of Roach and sends it despite the late hour.

Jaskier doesn't expect an answer.

That. That is too cute. Jaskier can't handle it, he just can't.

"Roach, your owner is a big old sap and he wanted me to tell you he's sorry and he loves you, okay?" Jaskier tells her from a respectable distance away. Roach looks at him and meows pitifully.

"I know, girl. I'm sure he misses you as much as you miss him. Come on now, I'm going to bed, you can come and stare at me until I fall asleep."

#the witcher #the witcher fanfic #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #cirilla fiona elen riannon #Yennefer of Vengerberg #frywen writes

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baka-kawa · 4 years

Text

Aobajohsai HC: simping for manager

Request | “Hello luv💗 just wanna say ur prev hcs are ✨exquisite✨ (look at me using big mature-ish words👁) Can u please do hcs for the team/s (specifically nekoma, seijoh, inarizaki. Feel free to change the teams tho,,) simping on their manager (reader) and protecting her from flirts from other schools? Hope it’s not confusing 😅 thank you sweetheart 💖💖💖

Notes | I’m so excited to write this :)) I will only be writing for the boys I have listed on my masterlist since I don’t know enough about the other characters to write about them. Hope you enjoy reading this :)

Oikawa

in my eyes oikawa is quite possessive

and so when you became their manager

oh boy,,

he keeps an eye on you at all times at games

he knows certain players on opposing teams and how predatory they can be

so he doesn’t feel comfortable w the possibility that if you aren’t in sight

bc you could possibly be cornered by a group of scary men

it’s platonic ofc

at least that’s what he tells himself

anyways

if he sees a guy even looking your way or attempting to speak to you,,

he’s there immediately

but he plays it off w you

just distracting you

and when your focused on something he’s showing you

he shoots the smuggest glance at any guy

or girl

pretty much saying

“you jealous? you should be, only I can touch her this way”

you seem so innocent to him

he wants to protect you at all costs

eventually he’ll break and fall for you

but whether something happens or not is up to you

bc shitty-kawa is a simp

but also a wimp

too scared to actually make a move to make something official

Iwaizumi

I can’t imagine Iwa being a simp lol

gentleman or sweetheart feels like a more suitable label for him

he knows boundaries

Iwa usually takes manager stress off of you

he asks what your tasks for the day are

and then he’ll do them quietly throughout the day

then you’re like

uhm

wtf

I don’t remember doing that

who tf did it?

eventually you catch on

and the pout on your face makes Iwa’s stomach flip

ffs why did you have to look so cute?

he’d simply shrug and say he had free time

you quickly became known as the mom of the team

and you always took care of the boys

whether it be cleaning up after them

or providing snacks and drinks

setting up little outings outside of practice or games

or even giving one on one talks whenever they’re having bad days or they’ve just lost a game

after some time of Iwa slowly caught feelings for his manager

and without thinking much about it

he’d take on the role of the dad of the team

he’d take care of you

making sure you had everything you needed

food

water

somewhere to sit

he even let you rest your head against him

the whole team knows he simps for you a thousand times more than any of them

but only shitty-kawa pushes him about it

Iwa continues to take care of you

if you want anything to happen though

you’d have to make the move

this sweetheart is too polite to put you in an awkward situation w the possibility that you don’t feel the same way

Kindaichi

this dude is a little hard to read

he doesn’t seem to care much

yeah you’re his manager

what about it?

he wouldn’t really simp

he’d be polite

and help out if he’s staying late for practice and you’re cleaning up

but other than that

he doesn’t really interact w you much

the only reason he’d go out of his way to simp for you

it’d have to be bc he has some sort of feelings for you

mmmm

let’s see

if he did simp

he’d be a real nervous boy around you

stuttering

he’d giggle a lot

scratching the back of his neck

if some other boy was taking your attention

his game would be off

he’d be screwing up so much

even if you weren’t entertaining the guy or showing any interest

his own insecurities would overwhelm him and he’d play frustrated

it wasn’t until the coach pulled him from the game that you kneeled in front of him as he sat on the bench w his head in his hands

boy

he’d fucking die internally the moment you both made eye contact

bitch

the feeling of your hands holding his in his lap

dear lord

he’d probably have a nose bleed

“what’s going on out there? what’s on your mind?”

your eyes looking up at him would put him in a trance

he was focused on the sensation

the feeling of your hands

the close proximity

your eyes

he didn’t want to forget this moment

“daichi? helloo?”

“s-sorry, idk what’s-”

he realized he couldn’t play without a clear head

and the only way he could clear his head was if he confessed to his manager

“y/n I like you, I like you and I can’t think straight when I see you with other guys-”

oh my god

he really said that

anyways

you’d giggle a little

“i know”

ofc you knew

you liked the boy too

you kissed his cheek and whispered word of encouragement briefly before sitting in your respected seat

after that occurrence

god

he’d simp so hard

think of a mini oikawa without intimidation

he wasn’t as possessive

but he’d make sure you had everything you needed

always made sure no one screwed w you

and waited w you if other team members wanted to practice late

even when he didn’t feel like practicing

just bc you hated leaving unless you closed the gym yourself

just bc some of the boys were lazy w clean up

and there were a few instances in which some of the boys forgot to lock up

the coach chewed you out for that

but yeah

kindaichi became a total simp for you after that

Kyotani

he’s interesting

i think it’s bc of his mad dog nickname that I feel this way

but he’s like a dog

a territorial dog

claiming what’s his

and he’s like a more aggressive oikawa

if he sees any other teams talking to you

he’s there in the background glaring at them

if anyone disrespects you

oh boy

they need to prepare to get shewed out by him

eventually he realizes he’s acting this way bc he has some sort of feelings for you

he doesn’t bother wasting time

this boy just goes straight up to you

“let’s go out.”

and you are a lil sassy so you respond

“a please would be nice.”

“wi-will you please go on a date with me.”

“I’d love to Kyo-”

“call me Kentaro, pl-please.”

you just smile

and this boy is at your will

not much else to say

he simps in the most masculine way possible

just very territorial in public

but in the privacy between you both

he’s a little like Kunimi

he’s very soft

like a cute little puppy that wants nothing more from you but your love and affection

you can bet that he’d destroy anyone on the team if they leave a mess in the gym or cause you to get in trouble for them

it’s awesome

Kunimi

this boy

very quiet

chill

to himself

like kindaichi, he’d probably simp if he had a thing for you

it started out as respect for his manager

just helping you w clean up or whatever

mainly sits next to you in the bus

only bc you can be quite timid and quiet

he’s drawn to that kind of thing

allows him to sleep in peace

and he knows the other boys wouldn’t mess w you so they wouldn’t mess w him either since he’d use you as a shield

after seeing another team’s captain probably terushima that’s when he’d snap

but he’d never act out in a crazy manner

he’d simply grab a hold of your wrist

the same one that terushima was reaching for

and shoot the captain a stare that shot through his soul

“sorry she’s taken.”

shock from you and a few boys from the team that heard his words

terushima would eventually back off

and when you question his prior words

he just blatantly confesses

“I like you and I don’t need other guys thinking they stand a chance with you.”

“Kuni-”

boy would pull you into a whole kiss

the team would fucking die

Kunimi Akira

the man who could care less

just confessed and made the first move all in one go?

chaos would erupt in the team

you’d be a whole tomato afterwards

as Kunimi would look as content as ever

“call me Akira please.”

bitch okay yes sir

I got carried away sorry about that lol

but it was necessary for context

but yeah

he’d totally simp afterwards

but only behind closed doors

he’d be so soft with you

always wanting cuddles

and treating you like a baby when you’re sick or going through depression periods

he’d take your calls or text at any hour

and come over the second you ask

and he has all the supplies whenever you’re on your period

he just fucking loves you dude

and the fact that you’re their manager?

god he lives for that

#aobajosai #Aoba Josai #whole team #hc #headcanon #kunimi #kyotani #oikawa #iwaizumi #kindaichi

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cynicalrainbows · 4 years

Text

Poetry & Prose

In which Cathy suffers with Guilt and Jane discovers poetry.

The poems mentioned in this fic are (in order of mention Her Kind by Anne Sexton, an extract from Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur, On A Train by Wendy Cope, The Dormouse and The Doctor by A A Milne and The Past by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.) Wendy Cope is absolutely recommended if you’re not a fan of poetry in general- her poems are very simple, and all the more effective for that simplicity. The dormouse poem I recommend if you wish to have your heart torn into shreds- yes, it’s technically a children’s poem but even thinking about the absolutely tragic plight of the sad dormouse still makes me tear up to this day. Literally no other piece of poetry has ever affected me so deeply so I’ve just projected that onto Cathy.

In regards to the brief mention of Thomas and Elizabeth….I do sometimes think the case gets examined in a slightly….I don’t want to say unfair way but a way that applies modern understandings of things and modern expectations to a time that was wildly different. Specifically, during a time when it was entirely legal to beat your wife and divorce for women was not an option, what else would you do in a similar situation, other than sending the victim away?

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy this fic!

‘I have gone out, a poss- poss-’

‘Possessed.’

‘Possessed witch, h- haunting the black air, braver at night, dreaming evil, I have done my hitch-’

She pauses.

‘What does it mean?’

‘Hm?

‘What does done my hitch mean?’

She thinks of horses- All hitched up; I’ll just hitch up the cart, words she’d only overheard in her first life since the tending of horses with none of her concern back then, and words she’d heard not at all in her second, since no one seemed to ride much nowadays. And getting hitched, hitched up- Anne had told her that it meant ‘marriage’ nowadays.

Neither meaning seems to fit here though.

Cathy takes the book and scans the line herself, her brow creasing, which makes her feel vindicated. Cathy is never, ever patronising on purpose, and she can tell that she takes especial care never to reply to a question as if the answer is obvious (even when it is) but even so, it pleases her when Cathy has to actually consider her answer before she gives it.

‘Mmmm… A spell, I think. Or a period of time.’

She sounds disinterested, lacklustre, even though this is usually the sort of question Cathy enjoys: usually, they’d debate it back and forth until they’d come up with an answer between them.

Now though, Cathy answers like she just wants to get on.

‘I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light-’

She’s reading slowly to make sure she doesn’t stumble but it’s alright- it’s one of the reasons that she enjoys reading poetry, because it’s one of the rare, precious times when reading quickly doesn’t matter. In fact speed (as Cathy has told her over and over) is actually a bad thing, especially if you’re reading a poem that’s unfamiliar.

‘It just means that you have to read it again because you’ve missed the meaning. Much better to read slowly so you can absorb it.’

And they do absorb it- it’s become their thing. Cathy’s the only queen with an unending appetite for poetry; she’s the only queen who reads slowly as a matter of course (she likes to focus on that rather than on the fact that she’s the only queen who needs to practise reading aloud) and so in this, they’re well matched.

Reading the poetry slowly doesn’t make her feel humiliated in the way that reading prose slowly does, and being able to argue over the meaning of whatever they’re reading- over the word choice and the subject and the feel of it- after she’s finished is her reward. It stops her feeling like a child because although Cathy is undoubtedly the better reader, they’re equals when it comes to interpretation, and that’s another reason she enjoys it.

Not that she’d taken Cathy seriously when she’d first suggested it.

(‘Practise makes all the difference, you know.’

She was sitting in the windowseat of the bedroom she shared with Catalina, back in the first house, hot-eyed and burning with embarrassment and steadfastly trying to ignore Cathy’s presence next to her.

‘It needn’t even be for long.’

She’d had to fight to keep her voice even.

‘There’s no point. I’m no good at it, I’m no good at any of it.’

‘True.’ Cathy’s bluntness sometimes makes her laugh- then it had made her want to cry. ‘But you don’t have to be. You can get better at it, but only if you actually work at it.’

‘I am working at it.’

‘I know- and it’s good you’re going to classes, I’m glad Anna suggested them but….you need to practise at home too.’

‘I do.’

‘With someone else it’ll be more effective. I can help with the hard bits.’

‘Cathy. I know you mean well. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to- to teach me like I’m a child.’

Cathy had shrugged. ‘That’s ok, I understand. Would it help if we didn’t think of it as teaching though? Because honestly I don’t want to think of it as teaching either. Too much pressure and I’d worry I wasn’t doing it right and-’

‘What would you call it then?’

‘How about….two friends who just happen to get together sometimes to read together?’

Jane had shaken her head. ‘You wouldn’t enjoy the sort of books I’m reading.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of books.’ Cathy held up the slim volume in her hand. ‘I was thinking of this. Poetry is MEANT to be read aloud but it’s too weird just doing it on my own.’

‘I’m not really into poetry.’

‘Why not?’

The idea had stumped her a bit, she’d never had to defend herself like this before. ‘I’m just not. I can’t understand it.’

‘No one’s meant to understand it, not the first time anyway. That’s part of the fun of it.’

‘And I read too slowly anyway, you’d be just as bored.’

‘Poetry is meant to be read slowly.’

‘Mmm. Yes. Sure.’

‘No, really! Listen-’

Cathy flipped the book open. ‘I’m looking for something short….ok, this’ll do-’ She’d sat up a little straighter and began to read quickly, flatly, as if she was reading from the newspaper, an account of something: ‘You tell me to lie down, cause my opinions make me less beautiful-’

The first line interested her but she had been distracted too because even she could tell that there’s something wrong about how Cathy was doing it- she’d felt rushed.

‘Do it again.’

‘Why?’

‘You were too quick-’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’ She’d felt deflated- had Cathy just been trying to prove her point because now she’d felt tricked and cheated- but then Cathy had put the book into her own hands, open on the page.

‘You read it.’

She’d tried to push it away.

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Don’t you want to hear it again?’

‘Yes-’ And she did. Something about it had struck her in a deep inside place: My opinions make me less beautiful. A memory teased her until she grabbed at it: Henry’s cold, closed up face when she’d screwed up her courage and begged for mercy for Robert Aske and the Pilgrimage of Grace. She’d been less beautiful to him that day, she was sure.

‘So read it. I’ll help if you get stuck on a word. And there’s only us here, no one else is listening.’

Still, she hesitated.

‘It’ll sound better when you read it, I promise you. Just give it a try. Please.’

It’s the please that did it, because she’s never able to say no to people when they use it. Even when she should. (Henry had said please when he’d asked for her hand- the first and last time he’d ever used it with her. She should have said no.)

‘Ok.’

‘You tell me to quiet down-’

It turned out actually to not be too hard to read, she’d only hesitated briefly over ‘tongue’. And oddly enough, she’d found that Cathy was right. It did sound better, somehow- perhaps because she was reading so slowly that she had time to take in each word, like bricks being added to a wall, one by one, each making the whole a little more complete.

‘-difficult to forget but not easy for the mind to follow.’

She’d closed the book on the last word and seen Cathy beaming at her. ‘You see? You see?’

Reluctantly, she’d nodded- but she hadn’t been able help a smile twitching the corners of her own lips too. ‘I see.’)

She hadn’t taken Cathy seriously when Cathy had told her that maybe she could like poetry, because she’d believed she couldn’t- she associated with confusion, with trouble. (They had said that Anne had had poems dedicated to her at Court, so many that it had caused a stir and then more than a stir. She hadn’t been able to trust poetry after she’d heard that.)

The poems Cathy has her read aren’t like that though- they have easy, simple words and some of them aren’t about anything much but they manage to make her feel things in a way that she’d never imagined printed words would be able to do.

There’s one that Cathy shows her, about riding in a train, that makes her want to cry for the soft simplicity of it, of how it reminds her of the peaceful feeling of watching the scenery as Kitty sleeping against her shoulder when they have to travel for an interview. It surprises her- she didn’t think that poetry could be that easy.

But now Cathy doesn’t look as if she finds it easy. She just looks tired.

‘-my ribs crack where your wheels wind-’ She reads on. It occurs to her that on a normal day, she’d be more focused on the words, about how they remind her of how she’d writhed and strained so hard giving birth that it had felt as if her own ribs were splintering in her chest- but now she’s more preoccupied with Cathy’s wan, drawn face.

‘A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.’

It’s only as she finishes that she realises Cathy’s eyes are glistening with tears- and although it’s not as if she’s never seen Cathy cry over a poem before, this doesn’t feel like last time.

(She’d thought Cathy had been joking.

‘How can this be the saddest poem in the world?’

Cathy had blinked at her, brushing at her eyes. ‘Because it IS. Doesn’t it make YOU feeling like crying?’

‘Not...really.’ She had wondered if there was some hidden meaning to it that had affected Cathy so, but she wasn’t sure how there COULD be. ‘It’s a children’s poem.’

‘That doesn’t mean it isn’t TRAGIC!’ Cathy looked genuinely sad. ‘Jane, the dormouse has to live FOREVER in the wrong sort of flowerbed, just because the doctor wouldn’t listen to what he actually wanted!’

Jane had shrugged. ‘Yes but- Cathy, love, it’s a children’s poem. It’s not meant to make you get this upset.’

‘Ugh, you sound just like Catalina.’ Cathy had picked up her copy of When We Were Very Young and left the room in a huff.)

This isn’t the same though- because rather than trying to explain herself, Cathy just looks wearily resigned.

‘Are you alright love?’

‘Fine.’ Cathy blinks a couple of times but the tears spill over, rather than disappearing like she’d obviously hoped they would.

‘No you’re not.’

Cathy sniffs and doesn’t respond; Jane edges closer and wraps an arm around her shoulders, hoping that she won’t pull away.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘It’s nothing, it’s silly.’

‘More silly than crying because a dormouse had to sleep in a bed of daffodils?’

Despite the tears still sliding down her cheeks, Cathy gives a short laugh. ‘They were chrysanthemums, actually. And yes.’

‘Well then’ She tightens her hold and Cathy rests her head against her shoulder. ‘Now you really do need to tell me love, because I’m fascinated.’

‘That's the thing. It really is nothing. I just feel really-’ Cathy searches for the word.’ You know like the opposite of rose tinted glasses?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like that. Just- tired and flat and pointless. And I don’t know why. The poem was just the last straw- it reminded me of, of how much I ruined by dying when I did….how many things could have been fixed if I hadn’t-’ Cathy’s face crumples and Jane feels it like an ache. ‘I’m sorry, I said it was stupid.’

‘Cathy love, no, no, no. Oh you poor thing-’ Cathy leans into her, sniffing and Jane rocks her gently back and forth. ‘It isn’t stupid in the slightest but that doesn’t mean it’s true-’ She isn’t quite sure where she should start. ‘You can’t blame yourself for dying, that isn’t fair.’

‘But if I hadn’t-’

‘But you couldn’t help it- and goodness, even if you had-’ Jane pulls back enough to cup Cathy’s damp cheek. ‘If you had been able to control it...I hate to say it, but there’s so, so many other things that could have gone wrong, even if you had been alive to see them.’

Cathy shakes her head. ‘I left Mary all alone- you know, some historians think she could even have died of neglect because they can’t be sure she ended up somewhere safe? And Jane- she had to go back to that awful house, those terrible people, because she couldn’t be part of my household without a proper chaperone, she might not have died if I’d been there to oversee things….I never had a chance to explain to Elizabeth, I always meant for her to know that I only sent her away to keep her safe and I meant to be explain one day when we were together but I never saw her again, there wasn’t TIME….and Edward and Mary might have reconciled, perhaps they wouldn’t have been so opposed, I made them all a family when I was alive and then when I was gone, it just fell apart….’ Cathy breaks off, sobbing too hard to speak and Jane shakes her head.

‘Oh Cathy. Oh love. It’s alright, let it out.’ She waits until the tears have slowed a bit before passing over a handful of tissues.

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. Now. Can I say what I think?’

Cathy nods, dabbing her swollen eyes.

‘Cathy. You are a wonderful, intelligent, kind, caring young woman and we are all love you and count ourselves very, very lucky to know you and have you with us, ok?’

Another tentative nod.

‘But love, you are not God. You’re not magic. You cannot possibly think that you would be able to have solved all of those problems, all of those issues, if you’d been alive. Honestly, even if you had a hundred years to try, I don’t think you’d have managed.’

Cathy looks wrong-footed. ‘But all of it- when I was alive, things were alright, they weren’t-’

‘Were they? Were they really alright? Or was it just that the problems didn’t exist yet?’

‘Well-’

‘Love, you did a wonderful job bringing the family together. But that’s so much easier when the children are- well, children. Do you see how much harder it would have been when they were adults? Edward was….seven, when you met him?’

‘Six.’ Cathy blows her nose.

‘See? He was a child. And Mary was a young woman but- well, with her father alive, even with a definite King in place….well, it would have been madness for her to double down with her beliefs the way she did. It was different when you were gone.’

‘Yes. When I was gone-’

‘No.’ She shakes her head decisively. ‘When you were gone, I said. Not because you were gone.’

Cathy contemplates for a moment and Jane pulls her closer, so that Cathy can lean against her comfortably. ‘Think love, for a minute. Did everything go to plan when you were alive? Did everything go just how you tried to make it turn out?’

Reluctantly Cathy shakes her head. ‘No. Hardly ever.’

‘So.’ Jane presses a kiss to the top of her head. ‘What makes you think it would have been any different if you’d lived longer?’ She pauses. ‘You need to let go of the blame. You need to stop torturing yourself with thinking how things could have been different- trust me, it’ll be easier when you do.’

She can see by Cathy’s expression that she understands what she means.

‘You make it sound so easy.’

‘Oh it won’t be. It isn’t. It’s always hard.’ She can say it lightly but honestly, it’s something that she doesn’t even think she’ll stop struggling with. ‘But you’ve taken the first couple of steps today….so that’s a start at least.’

‘I suppose.’ She’d be more bothered by the non-committal response if it wasn’t for the fact that she can tell by Cathy’s expression that she is actually thinking about it- only passingly now, perhaps, but later, when her tears have dried, tomorrow or the day after, she will think on it again, think about it seriously and examine the idea, and turn it over and over in her mind until she’s made peace with it.

She knows how Cathy does things after all, which is why she doesn’t push it too hard. She might not be able to read well but she knows about people.

Nestled up against her, Cathy looks even wearier and more wrung out than before but it doesn’t worry her so much as it did when she first noticed it. She smooths Cathy’s hair away from her damp face and smiles when she hums in response.

They sit in silence for a minute or two, and Jane imagines dust settling around them after a storm, normalcy returning slowly. She isn’t planning on going back to the poetry- she imaginges Cathy has probably had enough of it for one day, and then she remembers something and jerks up, dislodging Cathy from her arms and making her squeak in surprise.

‘Jane?’

‘Sorry, sorry- I just- I remembered something, something I meant to show you and I thought...it might help. You, I mean.’

Cathy looks slightly skeptical, and then she shrugs. ‘Ok. What is it?’

‘I’ll fetch it. Get comfortable while I look though because it might take a minute.’

She waits until Cathy has re-arranged the pillows and lain down properly on the the bedspread, half smiling despite herself.

‘I’m curious now-’

‘I knew you would be. Just- Oh!’ She unearths the book from under her bed, where she remembers putting it for ‘safe-keeping’ and climbs back onto the bed with it.

And begins to read.

‘I fling the past behind me, like a robe, worn threadbare at the seams, and out of date…’

Cathy curls back up into her side again and she smiles. ‘I have outgrown it. Where- where-’

‘Wherefore.’ Cathy’s voice is quiet; she goes on.

‘Wherefore should I weep and dwell upon its beauty-’

As she reads, she feels the tension leaving the girl next to her as she sinks into the cadence of the words.

‘-starred with gems made out of ch-ch-’

‘Chrystalled-’ Cathy’s voice is nearly a whisper now, but she can still hear it.

‘Chrystalled tears. My new robe shall be richer than the old.’ She finishes, flushed with the glow of hearing how much more confident her voice is than when they’d begun these sessions, all those months ago.

‘That’s you, Cathy. And all of us.’ She leans closer to the curly hair- Cathy’s face is buried in Jane’s cardigan but she knows she is still listening. ‘All of us, stronger than we were. You can put the past down, you don’t have to carry it with you, if it’s hurting.’

Cathy gives a tremulous nod, her face still buried and Jane kisses the top of her head..

She isn’t concerned, they can talk about it more later.

For now, she’s happy to wait until then.

#six #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #sixfic #six fanfiction

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kyloxmoegi1993 · 4 years

Text

Pain...blood...darkness. This was our sick and twisted game. He put on the garments, he grabbed a knife, tied me up so that my feet barely touched the floor, then blindfolded me. This was all a part of our game to get each other off. This all started when Danny had legitimately tried to kill me and turn me into one of his victims but when he had looked into my eyes as he pressed that blade to my throat he didn't see fear, he had seen arousal, interest, and other things he had never seen in his victims before. He had suddenly moved and cut my arm open and the sound that came out of me was a mix of pain and pleasure, shocking him. With that he decided to trust me and took the mask off and introduced himself as Danny Johnson. He then explained why he did what he did and how hard it was to be alone sometimes. While he craved the chase and the killings, he had other needs he craved as well. And I gave him the best of both worlds.

I felt the warmth of my blood run down my legs and I could only pant with longing. His steps were whisper soft as he treaded quietly around the tree I was tied to. Pretending to struggle, I squirmed trying to get free and felt the coldness of his blade rip my side open.

"Fuck! Danny! Mmmm...oh fuck."

I heard the rustle of his clothing and knew he was wiping his blade off and even though I couldn't see him I knew he was smirking under the mask.

"Just a bit longer doll. Now, let's play a little game. You get it right, I'll reward you, you get it wrong and well my dear I'm afraid I'll have to punish you."

Practically drooling with how sexy he sounded I moaned and nodded.

"Very good. First question. Who was the killer that always wields a kitchen knife?"

"Michael Myers..."

I heard him chuckle somewhere off to my right and knew he was circling the tree.

"Very good. Next question. Who was the killer in Friday the 13th?"

Although I knew the answer was Mrs. Vorhees as I'd watched that movie several times with him I smiled wanting his punishment more than the reward.

"Jason. It's Jason."

I heard and felt him stop right in front of me and felt the blade against my skin.

"I'm sorry love. That was the wrong answer. The correct answer is Mrs. Vorhees. Jason doesn't come in until the sequel. Now I have to punish you."

I started to squirm again and feigned noises as if I were scared, including whining and pleading with him.

Suddenly I felt him lift me up supporting my weight before cutting the ropes that had held me to the tree branch. He then untied my hands long enough to tie them behind my back and push my face into the ground before he slowly cut a hole in my jeans from my ass towards the front tearing through the thin fabric of my underwear that had been soaked with my juices. I felt his gloved hands rake down my body as I shivered in anticipation and gasped when he stuck the handle of his blade against my clit and began rubbing me in a circular motion.

"Ahhh....mmm...yes please.."

I rolled my hips back against his touch to which he hit me on my ass. Hard.

"This is not for you to enjoy. You answered incorrectly."

Biting my lip I held still as he drove me towards an orgasm. Just as the heat tore through me and the pressure was building to it's delicious climax he stopped and moved the blade away. Crying out in aggravation I whined his name again and felt the pressure ebb away. This is when he pressed the handle back to my clit and started the process over again. He did this several more times, bringing me to the edge of an orgasm just to stop. I growled in frustration and felt him dig the blade into my hip and felt him lean over the back of my body, his erection digging into my ass.

"I'll give you one more chance to answer a question correctly Allie. If you get it right you live. You get it wrong, you die."

Shuddering, I nodded again not caring that my face was in the dirt.

"Final question. What's my favorite scary movie?"

Smiling, I squirmed readying myself as I felt him lean back and heard him unzip his pants. He must have been close if he asked me a question this easy.

"Your favorite movie is the one where you're the killer and I'm the victim..."

Without saying a word he slammed into me causing me to cry out and he began thrusting aggressively into me. We needed this. I needed this. He always made sure to never seriously hurt me or bleed me too much and when he took me home he'd make sure I got my energy back. It was usually a full two weeks before we would role play again and he had a rule that when we were close to role playing we could not touch ourselves or each other in any sexual way to make the sex better. Fuck was it better. This time we had gone a whole month and would probably be the last time we did that. Our thirsts usually coincided with each other's. We were the perfect twisted couple. There was even occasions he had me help with his killings. Whether it be helping him stalk the girls, or find entrances and exits, setting up his cameras. I loved him and I knew he loved me.

His pace became quicker and more urgent as he bruised my hips with how tight he held them as he continued pounding into me over and over until I felt that blessed heat uncoil from my belly and get hotter and hotter. He then gripped my hair and yanked my head back as he pounded into me, our flesh slapping as it connected.

"What's my favorite scary movie Allie?!"

Feeling the pressure explode inside me I cried out as I orgasmed, "Scream!"

He slammed into me one last time before releasing inside me and I felt his cock twitch and spurt inside me and he moved slowly still until he finished then he let go of me and slid out of me. Squirming, I moved my hips back and forth and felt some of his come drip out of me.

"Danny...please..."

He cut the ropes and removed my blindfold and I stared at the mask covering his face but saw his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath. I crawled over to him and kneeled slowly moving the mask off and met his steely grey eyes still a bit hazed over with lust.

"Did I do okay Danny....?"

He reached up and cupped my cheek with his gloved hand.

"You were the perfect victim. You're the only one I'll ever not kill."

Smiling, I knew that was his way of saying I love you and I leaned into his touch, placing my hand over his.

"I love you too."

Two people. Brought together by a sick and twisted turn of events. This would be their game until the end.

End.

*Author's Note*

Hello! So I have been playing Dead by Daylight lately, (really awesome game by the way); and everytime I played as the killer I wanted to play as ghost face. I have always loved the scream movies and have oddly enough found him attractive. (Don't ask. I don't understand it either.) So I finally decided to write something I think would fit ghost face. I mixed it up with some dialogue from the actual scream movies with some help from @dark0angel13 as she has all the movies pretty memorized, then used the name of ghost face from dead by daylight which is Danny Johnson. It's my first time kinda writing a horror themed story so be gentle but I hope it is enjoyed as I enjoyed writing it and know I do not own the rights to Dead by Daylight® or the Scream® films. I do however own the character Allie that I made up lol. Thank you. 😊🤗🖤

#dead by daylight #scream #ghost face #danny johnson #video games #movies #horror #romance #blood #other characters #my writing #the characters don't belong to me #except for Allie #don't judge me

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cloudravine · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @strawberrylight to answer a few questions that dig a little deeper, thank you ily dshfgs 😚💕🌻

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen?

Mmm don’t have a particular preference for either

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or in the city?

An in-between? Big cities overwhelm me and the country bores me - for me the perfect balance would be a quiet location close to nature, either in or on the outskirts of a small-ish city ✨

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

It’s impossible to only pick one! Most of all I’d like to know even more languages and writing systems (including all the ones coined by Tolkien), become an expert at shooting the bow, get back to doing fencing, and learn to play the drums and the cello/double bass 😍🙏

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

I only drink tea, and nope, never!

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which I read eight or nine times as a child sdgfs ⚡️

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

I rarely ever take baths but find them more relaxing and satisfying than showers

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be?

How do you expect me to choose when I obv wanna be all of them??? 😩😭 In terms of what fits me best, maybe a wood fae/fairy/sprite - and if specific fantasy worlds are allowed, a hobbit in Middle-earth and a sea witch in the Continent 🍃

8. Paper or electronic books?

Paper books for sure!

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

My black TPWK hoodie 🖤

10. Do you like your name? Would you like to change it?

I like it and defo wouldn’t change it 😊 It comes from Robin Hood and exists in some variation in many different languages, which I find brilliant :’)

11. Who is a mentor to you?

Mmmm probably my closest friends bc I look up to them and value their judgement so much 💞

12. Would you like to be famous? If so, what for?

Nope hahaha, too much stress and pressure 🙈

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

Unfortunately yes rip

14. Do you consider yourself to be a romantic person?

Omg I’m probably the most romantic, cheesy and extra person you’ll find out there shfgsd 😂

15. Which element best represents you?

Water 🌊

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

Physically - my friends who live abroad 😭 Metaphorically - it’s homophobic that I’m not besties with ot5 and Henry Cavill 💔

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

My friends from Norway in particular, and yesterday night I dreamt about my German host mum so I’m missing her a lot today :(

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

I remember playing lava and recording radio shows/podcasts on cassettes with one of my sisters 🌸

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

No idea haha

20. What are you most thankful for?

The love in my life, and the fact that I’ve been able to live my dream of travelling for the past ten years or so 💖💖

21. Do you like spicy food?

My nose starts running and I lowkey die when it’s very spicy sdhfs (typical weak white person behaviour lmao), but I do like when it’s just a little spicy 🙈

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

Quite a few, yes! Was VIP at a Tokio Hotel show, got autographs from Simple Plan and All-American Rejects, etc. Not sure it counts as ‘meeting,’ but I also passed some of the guys from Avenged Sevenfold on the street in Montréal once 😌

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

I’ve tried many times but always end up giving up after a while bc it’s too time-consuming and I can’t be bothered rip

24. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

Mmm maybe pen?

25. What is your star sign?

Cancer ♋️

26. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

CRUNCHY OMG, pls take soggy cereal away from me 😳

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

Warmth, love and kindness 🌻

28. Do you like reading? What was the last book you read?

I studied literature for five years - does that answer the first question? haha 😅 Last book I read was Andrzej Sapkowski’s Sword of Destiny sdhfgs and it broke me so bad I haven’t been able to read anything else since sdgfs bye

29. How do you show someone you love them?

I check up on them, send them stuff that reminds me of them, make time for them, share the stuff I’m interested in with them and create a good environment for them to do the same, etc. 💕

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

Yes

31. What are you afraid of?

Pain and loneliness

32. What is your favourite scent?

My cat’s smell 😭💗

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

Surname, unless we’re family / well acquainted (but I’m gonna have to change that habit when I live in Norway since practically everyone is on a first name basis there haha)

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

This is tricky bc I can’t imagine what it’d be like living life without having to think about money at all 🤔 But I think I’d travel a lot? Ideally I’d love to be working in something Tolkien-related (but not full-time sfgsdd), and I’d probs spend my free time with friends, out in nature and maybe doing some volunteering :)

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

The ocean for sure! Or a lake ☀️

36. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground?

I’d keep it, except if I knew who it belongs to and how I can give the money back to them

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

Yes and yes, though I can’t remember what my wish was 💫

38. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

That it’s okay to be whoever they are, and that they should accept others for who they are too and show tolerance and openness as much as they can 🌷

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

I’ve been considering so many tattoo ideas but always end up changing my mind after a while... Would really like something Harry or 1D-related and also some more Tolkien tattoos - it’s just super hard to decide on what exactly 😭

40. What can you hear right now?

My step-dad’s coffee machine working + workers doing renovations outside

41. Where do you feel the safest?

Mmm that’s a hard one, maybe when I’m with people I trust?

42. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

It’s difficult to pick only one bc I’ve got quite a few issues I need to improve on (anxiety, bad self-esteem and insecurity to name only a few) 🙈

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

The Viking era hands down! ⚔️

44. What is your most used emoji?

All the pink hearts 💗💓💝💞💖💕

45. Describe yourself using one word.

Passionate

46. What do you regret the most?

I’m always most mortified to think back on instances where I accidentally hurt/upset someone in any way 💔

47. Last movie you saw?

Mudbound, which was very heavy but excellent!

48. Last tv show you watched?

Dear White People 🌈

49. Invent a word and its meaning

I feel like my cat Mia’s name sould become a verb that can be conjugated 💁

Tagging @amantisegreti @technicallysideacc @micshiefmanaged @gcralts @goldenfive @going-there-and-back-again @peachtimelord @feanarofinwion @daggryet @zenmalik - no pressure of course! 🌸💛

#strawberrylight #amantisegreti #technicallysideacc #micshiefmanaged #gcralts #goldenfive #going-there-and-back-again #peachtimelord #feanarofinwion #daggryet #zenmalik #interactions #about

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justcallmefox89 · 4 years

Text

Dishes and Dancing

It’s time for Jax’s first family dinner with all the brothers and Arianthi. Arianthi and Mammon team up for some after dinner mischief and Jax winds up in the middle.

Written from the perspective of my non-binary OC Jax.

When I wake up my room has gone dark, I’m face down on my bed, and someone is pounding on my door..

“Coming!” I shout, wiping drool off my face with the sleeve of my hoodie, then running my hands through my hair in an attempt to smooth it down.

“Hey Arianthi,” I say as I swing open the door. “Sorry it took -”

The words die on my tongue when I realize that it’s not Arianthi waiting for me.

“Hi Jax!” Beel says, flashing an adorable grin.

“H-h-hey Beel,” I stammer.

Get it together. You do not get flustered. You do the flustering. Oh god, does that even make sense? No. Maybe? Possibly. I’m a mess.

“Arianthi had to help Mammon with something so she asked me to come get you for dinner.”

I bet she did.

“I appreciate you coming to get me.” I give him a small smile, then notice the blue haired demon standing behind him.

Oh, he’s cute too.

“Hey there.” I greet him with a wave.

The blue haired demon gives me a slight nod, clutching a cow print pillow to his chest.

Beel puts an arm around his shoulders, pulling him him for a quick hug. “This is my brother Belphie. Belphie, this is Jax. They’re the new human exchange student this year.”

“Arianthi told me about you.” I smile, trying to ease the awkwardness.

“Did she tell you about the time I killed her?” Deadpan.

I laugh, then notice the tension in Beel’s face and immediately stop. “I’m sorry, say that again?”

“We’re going to be later for dinner!” Beel puts an arm around my shoulder and starts steering me towards the dining room.

Holy biceps Batman. And he smells like sugar cookies. Why does he smell like sugar cookies?!

I inhale deeply, savoring Beel’s delicious scent, and lean into his side a little. I notice Belphie looking at me from the corner of his eye and straighten up, slipping out from under Beel’s arm.

I make a beeline for Arianthi when we enter the dining room, sliding into the empty seat next to her.

“You did that on purpose,” I hiss under my breath.

She gives me an innocent wide eyed stare. “Did what on purpose?”

Oh, she’s good.

“Asked Beel to come get me for dinner instead of getting me yourself.”

“Technically, I asked Mammon to ask him.”

“Don’t be draggin’ me into this,” Mammon mutters, sitting down on her other side.

Arianthi grins at me. “Did you meet Belphie?”

“Yeah, about that-”

“What did you think of him?”

“He’s cute but-”

“Attic sandwich!” Arianthi and Mammon whisper in unison, snickering.

“Ok, you’re going to explain that to me later, but why did he say he killed you?” I ask.

Arianthi looks over the table where Beel and Belphie sit opposite us. “Belphie! I told you not to lead with the murder story when you met them,” she scolds him.

He gives her a smirk and an unconcerned shrug. “Oops.”

“Oh fuck me gently............. he was being serious.” I put my head in my hands and take a few deep breaths.

She rubs my back in a soothing circular motion. “To be totally fair, it was only the one time. And Barbatos fixed it really quickly.”

“Not making me feel better Arianthi!”

“Did you break Diavolo’s new human already?” A new voice asks, giggling.

“They’re fine Asmo,” Arianthi answers. “Belphie just startled them.”

“Hey Jax?”

I lift my head at the sound of Beel’s voice. He’s smiling at me gently from across the table, violet eyes shining with kindness.

“Belphie’s not like that anymore. I promise,” he says.

I nod, still in shock.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you while you’re in the Devildom. Ok?” Beel looks at me earnestly.

“O-ok Beel. Thanks,” I reply, feeling the heat from my blush spread across my cheeks.

Arianthi and Mammon grin at me.

“Not a goddamn word,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on the other demons entering the dining room.

When the other four brothers are seated Arianthi begins making introductions while the food is passed around the table.

Lucifer stares at me impassively for a moment, crimson eyes sweeping over me. “I expect you to abide by the house rules, just like everyone else. Do not do anything to make Lord Diavolo or the exchange program look bad. Otherwise you will be punished.”

He’s frightening.

“Yes, sir.”

Levi is slightly better. “Hey normie,” he greets me, barely looking up from his D.D.D.

“Hi.” When he doesn’t say anything else I busy my self putting some food on my plate.

I try again. “So Arianthi said you’re really into anime.”

“Yeah,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me. “Why? Are you?”

“Um yeah, I’m pretty into anime. Have you ever seen Black Butler?” I ask him.

He shakes his head.

“I brought it with me, we can watch it sometime if you want,” I offer.

“You wouldn’t mind hanging out with a gross otaku like me?” He looks at me suspiciously.

“No?” I answer, looking to Arianthi for guidance.

“I’ll explain it later,” she whispers. I nod to show that I’ve heard her.

“Fine. I’ll message you when I have free time,” Levi tells me. “I have a lot of other anime to get through before I start a new one.”

Satan gives me a pleasant smile after we’re introduced. “Arianthi said you’re an art student?”

Oh, he’s pretty.

I find myself smiling back. “Yeah. Well, I was. I just graduated university. I’m spending a gap year here, then I have a job lined up when get back home.”

“Really?” He asks, interested. “What would you be doing?”

“I’ll be designing character concepts for a small company that does special effects and prosthetic makeup for movies,” I answer, relaxing a little.

“I’d love to see your art sometime. Arianthi has mentioned how talented you are.” Satan smiles at me.

I blush a little. “I don’t..... I mean yeah, I can show you some things sometime.”

Asmo is the final brother and he looks at me across the table, studying me carefully with citrine eyes.

“Arianthi didn’t tell us you would be so attractive,” he finally says, giving me a cheeky grin.

I smirk back at him. “And she didn’t mention you would be so beautiful.”

Why is it so easy to flirt with him, but I can’t even get a full sentence out around Beel? I’m a fucking mess.

“I can show you where my room is after dinner. That way if you ever start feeling lonely you can come pay me a visit.” Asmo bites his lower lip and gives me a playfully flirty look.

“I’ll think about it,” I say, giving him a quick wink.

My eyes flicker over to Beel, and for just an instant he looks annoyed at my casual flirting. He catches me looking at him and the look is quickly replaced with a small smile.

Arianthi clears her throat loudly and I look over at her. She widens her eyes at me and then shoots a meaningful look towards Beel.

I look back her and mouth talk later.

She gives me a stealthy thumbs up and resumes her conversation with Mammon.

Later that night Arianthi and I are in the kitchen doing the dishes. She’s washing and I’m drying and putting them away. Her old iPhone is on the counter and LP is playing softly while we sing along.

“So,” she says, carefully inspecting the plate she’s scrubbing. “Flirting with Asmo huh?”

“Nooooo?”

She looks at me.

“Ok, maybe a little.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “You were a lot smoother with Asmo than you were with Beel.”

I groan as I reach to put away some bowls in a high cabinet. “Don’t remind me.”

Arianthi stop scrubbing and looks at me expectantly.

“What do you want me to say?” I sigh and lean against the counter. “He discombobulates me.”

Arianthi laughs.

“Really? Laughing at my pain?” I playfully give her a dirty look.

“I take it discombobulation doesn’t happen to you very often?” She plunges her hands back into the soapy water.

“Not really. Talking to people has always been pretty easy. Flirting with cute guys is fun, you know?”

“Preach,” she responds, nodding her head knowingly.

I turn to put some plates away. “Something about Beel is different.”

“Mmmm? How so?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer, turning back around to see her furiously typing out a message on her D.D.D. “What are you doing?”

Message sent, she sets it back down and looks at me with an innocent smile.

“Mammon just had a question.” She pauses. “So Beel is different huh?”

“Smooth transition. Real smooth,” I say.

She just shrugs in response.

“He just seems really nice. He’s so cute. And he smells like - “

“Sugar cookies?”

“Right?!”

“Beel and Jax, sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-” She says in a sing song voice.

“You are a fucking child,” I retort, trying hard not to blush.

Arianthi puts a hand to her chest and gasps in faux shock. “Me? A child? Never. If I were a child,” she grins at me mischievously, “I would do THIS!”

She lifts something from the sink and flings a glassful of water at me, soaking my shirt.

“You jerk!” Laughing, I lunge at her and she drops the glass back into the sink before gleefully twisting away from me. I dip my hands into the water and splash her back, landing a direct hit to the face.

She pushes her dripping hair out of her face and starts laughing. She runs back to the sink as I circle around the kitchen island, cupping a handful of water and trying to splash me again. I skip out of the way and the water barely touches my jeans.

“Too slow!” I stick my tongue out at her.

She bursts into a fit of giggles. “Who’s the child now?”

“You started it!” Her giggle is infectious and I’m laughing along with her.

A new song starts playing on the radio, a cover of an old Divinyls song.

I start swaying along to the music. “I love this song!”

Arianthi grabs a whisk, using it as a microphone, singing the opening lines.

I love myself, I want you to love me

I start singing along, choosing a spatula as my weapon of choice.

I search myself, I want you to find me I forget myself, I want you to remind me

“Oi! What are ya doin’? Why are ya all wet?”

I hear Mammon’s voice behind us and I immediately drop the spatula, blushing when I see that Beel is with him. “H-h-hi guys.”

Arianthi moves over to Mammon, smirking. “We’re having fun goober! Come dance with us!”

She grabs the tie of his R.A.D. uniform, slowly pulling him to her, and swaying her hips seductively.

You’re the one who makes me come runnin’ You’re the sun who makes me shine

The tips of his ears turn red, but he grins at her, rolling his eyes and placing his hands on her hips. They’re soon in their own world, laughing and dancing together.

“Beel dance with Jax!” Arianthi calls out as Mammon spins her, then pulls her back to his chest.

Oh god.

I look down at the ground, mortified, sure he’s going to say no. When I risk taking a glance at him he’s holding out his hand and smiling, eyebrows raised, waiting for my response.

I take his hand and he pulls me in, putting his hands on my waist. I lace my arms over his shoulders and our hips start moving in time with the beat.

When you’re around, I’m always laughin’ I wanna make you mine

Arianthi catches sight of me and Beel dancing and waggles her eyebrows at me before turning back to Mammon.

A fool could see how much I adore you I get down on my knees, I’ll do anything for you

Beel pulls me a little closer, chuckling. “This is fun,” he murmurs in my ear.

I shiver a little at the feel of his warm breath on my ear. I look up, losing myself in his violet eyes.

“Yeah, yeah it is,” I say shyly.

I want you, I don’t want anybody else And when I think about you I touch myself

Beel blushes a little at the suggestive lyrics and I’m right there with him. But he doesn’t let go or pull away.

Nice.

I start feeling slightly more confident. Until I hear a voice come from behind us.

“What are you four doing?” Lucifer asks, sounding exasperated.

“Busted,” Arianthi mutters. “Prepare for the lecture.”

“Arianthi, you and Jax are supposed to be cleaning up. Mammon and Beel, what are you even doing in here?”

“Lucifer sucks the fun out of everything,” Arianthi whispers, making the three of us snort in amusement.

Lucifer’s eyes narrow in irritation. “You’re supposed to be setting a good example for Jax, Arianthi. Not encouraging them to slack off on their chores their first day here and dancing around the kitchen. And why are you both wet? What would Lord Diavolo think if he were here?”

From what little I saw of him today........... probably join in.

Beel gently bumps his shoulder into mine and smiles at me as we endure the rest of Lucifer’s rant.

Yeah, I’m definitely going to like it here.

Song: Lauren Ruth Ward - I Touch Myself (Divinyls cover)0

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