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starmanic · 1 year

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Egyptian night.

summary: Y/N meets someone that will change the trajectory of her night.

Warnings: p in v, female receiving, degration kink,feminine pronouns

Word count: 1069

I was sitting in the old pickup van searching for a place to stay. I was a runaway.

I was desperate and didn't care who was in the car as long as it took me out of here.

Four buff men stared at me down.

As I climbed into the back of the van one young angry looking teen caught my attention, there was something about him…I couldn’t put a finger on it, maybe it was the fact he was smoking but looked young for it, despite his scars, or the fact he was in a car with 3 older men all seemingly unrelated, all looking like they were on a mission and of course him, I didn’t know his journey just knew he was like me.

“Where you headed?” said the burly rough looking man with the salt and pepper hair hidden under his hat.

“Anywhere, just not here..” I mumbled uncomfortably as my thighs were crushed against his muscular man-spreading.

“Hey, do you mind moving a little,” I asked shyly, he grunted and if looks could kill i would be dead as of now, I looked down defeated. It must have been 2 hours since I fell asleep crushed by his wide shoulders and between these small seats. As it was already dark,

I was awoken by a tap on my shoulder

“ Hey, wake up we are at the hotel,” said a deep, monotone voice

Shocked by these men's kindness I had just met them 3 hours ago and they had not only given me a ride but had bought me my own room? Or so I thought.

As I walked into the runned down hotel it almost seemed deserted

“ Where is my room?’ i questioned shyly

“Our room.” “that senile bitch is making us share.” He grumbled. Damn am I that bad that he doesn’t even wanna share a room with me?

Scanning the hotel room I noticed there was only one bed, shit. I sheepishly looked up to him to gauge his reaction. His face showed no emotion, his muscular hands flicked on the light and even on his stoic face I could see his mood turn sour at the thought of sharing a bed with a girl he'd only met a few hours ago.

“Since we will be sharing a bed anyways, I never got your name?”

“It’s Jotaro, Jotaro Kujo” he grunted “I'm y/n” I held out my hand for him to shake only for him to look at me blankly, “and we are not sharing a bed,” he stated

Before I could even snap back to him, he was getting ready to get in the shower, in the only bathroom.

“Hey I was going to use that!?” only to be met when the door slamming in my face, what the fuck was that. I tried waiting but after what seemed like 30 minutes he was still showering.

Fuck I need to pee I thought to myself, as intimidating as he was I'm not going make a mess of myself. I pressed my ears to the bathroom door to see if the shower was still running “ Y/N… Fuck.. Please” he softly moaned.

I recoiled am I really hearing this? It was late and my mind could be playing tricks on me, all of that was ignored by the reminder of my bladder about to explode. I knocked on the door, No response, I pounded on the door and shouted out “ OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR IM ABOUT TO PISS MYSELF” Suddenly the shower turned off, and before I could think the door swung open and a half-naked, angry Jotaro came out.

Jotaro was standing before me, his chest was heaving and his face bright red, but his eyes were obscured by his wet, jet-black hair.

“Good grief, what do you fucking want” he growled. I took in his physique, his chiseled chest, his scars, my eyes involuntarily darted down to his happy trail just barely covered by a white towel, all glistening from the water. My trance was quickly broken by the urgency to empty my bladder.

I quickly pushed him aside and rushed to the toilet.

After finishing my nightly routine, I found him sprawled out on the bed already asleep.

After leaving the warmth of my shower I finally noticed how frigid the room was, Jesus…I had no choice but to curl up in the little space next to him on the bed.

I wrapped myself in the blanket just when I was falling asleep I felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around my torso “ahhh st.. Stop..” he yelled out, feeling his growing restlessness I called out to him “Jotaro?” but got no response back “Jotaro, wake up” I grew more impatient, I tried to shake him awake “wa, what?” he grumbled drowsily with a hint of anger in his voice.

“Are you okay? It seemed like you were having a bad dream” I responded

“ I wasn't” he replied coldly. We both silently laid awake for what seemed like hours in the dark unsure of what to do next.

I felt his arms wrap around me once again “Jo..Jotaro what are you doing?”

“Quiet” I felt his fingers crawl down my pants slowly rubbing and dragging his thumb up and down through my panties, feeling my throbbing wet clit soak my underwear as if he was teasing me, I couldn't help but let a soft mewl“ please” his pace sped up until I was raw with anticipation.

Then he stopped, looking at me in my eyes, dragging his fingers up to his mouth and licking his fingers clean.

I heard a shuffling noise and found him kneeling above me. He started kissing my breasts, then my stomach, and finally my wet clit.

Gyrating his tongue on my sensitive clit, slowly twirling my nipples between his rough fingers and his other free hand toying with my wet cunt testing out how many fingers he could stick in.

He was a mess for me, this seemingly stoic man was giving himself up for me.

His breathy moans intoxicated the room, I ran my fingers through his long black hair, tightening my grip with every lick and movement he made.

I could not help but roll my head back in euphoria. My thighs involuntarily

tightening around his head “Please…please I'm so close” I begged; all of sudden his touch disappeared from my body he smirked, “not so fast, you’re done when I say you are” his tone getting serious once again.

He suddenly pulled himself up so his face was level to mine and undoing his pants with his free hand.

His hands eventually moved to my thighs, gently caressing them before squeezing the inner thigh of my right leg. It felt more as though he needed to release pent-up stress, and that squeeze would definitely leave a mark. His strength was incomprehensible, and the thought of markings left on my body only made me crave them more. Without breaking eye contact, his fingers barely grazed me, tempting and teasing me. I bucked my hips towards him in response, but my movement was met with his left hand locking my hips to the bed, preventing me from moving. His power was immeasurable, and there was no way I would be able to escape his grasp. His cold gaze shot up at me, as his finger swirled on my clitoris lightly. I squirmed and moaned, trying desperately to move with the rhythm, but it did me no good. He held me down, wanting me to feel as less as possible. He continued on for minutes in excruciating pleasure. Watching me writhe under him begging him for more.

His breathing was erratic but his face remained unchanged. His eyes were laser focused with desire. I was taking him but not easily and that thought drove me insane. He was so big. So much bigger than he looked I felt incredibly tight, squeezing against his throbbing erection as he gripped my hips, holding me in place.

I fell onto his shoulders, my hands clutching the back of his head as he pounded himself into me repeatedly working himself up, with every other exhale came a small moan that escaped his soft lips.

“Please, I can't take this, I want to cum please Jotaro”, Jotaro silently went feral hearing my cries of pleasure they were taking him to his own limit.

Suddenly, I felt my euphoria creeping closer at the same time as my words started to become idiotic and incomprehensible. "J-Jotaro... I can't handle it anymore". You felt him separate from your dripping hole, approaching your face again but without stopping his cock from going in and out of you "Shh be quiet" he warned.

You felt his lips give you sloppy kisses on your neck, softly biting making you feel even closer to your peak.

Jotaro softly presses his torso into mine stilling for a few seconds and feeling his hot cum flowing, fully coating my inside feeling his cock pulsing inside of me, my inner walls clenching uncontrollably as his warmth starts filling me up. Jotaro’s thick cock rubbing all my sweet spots, his thumb rubs circles around my clit. I gripped his wide shoulders tightly as my body started shaking in sweet ecstasy. His once steady rhythm became sloppier, drilling his cock into my quivering hole, low grunts mixed with swearings escaping his lips, gradually feeling his dick softening inside of me.

After spending some time cuddling each other and calming down, Jotaro stood up to grab something to clean me with. He returned with a small hand towel and cleaned me up first, gently cleaning me down, wiping his mess off of me. I cuddled against his warm body slowly drifting off to sleep, as the sun was slowly rising I didn't care, as long as I was with him.

#jjba #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo imagines #xblack reader #black!reader #jotaro x y/n #jotato kujo #jojo smut #jotaro x oc #jotaro x black reader #anime #smut #jojos part 3 #!reader #jotaro smut #jojos bizzare adventure smut #fypage #fanfic

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catintheruemorgue · 3 years

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annoying things they do

summary: small things these guys do that just grinds your gears a bit.

characters: oda, dazai, kunikida, twain, akutagawa, atsushi, mori, poe, ranpo, fittzgerald, steinbeck, chuuya, yosano, gin, kouyou, higuchi, alcott and lucy

these are all based off things i do or have inconvenienced my life lmfao i’ll probs do a part two with everyone i missed this just got wayyy to long lol next im posting being friends with double black

Oda:

If you're wearing shorts and have bruises he will poke them when you're resting your legs on him. He’s silent about it too and if you yell at him he pretends to act like he doesn't know what you're talking about.

Will smack your sunburn but this one is actually an accident. He just wanted to pat you on the back because you're amazing.

Will space out when you talk too long, sometimes certain objects are just so… mesmerizing

Dazai:

Loves to jumpscare you the only exception is if it was a trigger. In that case he will just call your name and whip something at you for you to catch at random.

When you're driving he likes to reach over and honk your horn. It's almost caused so many roadside fistfights.

If he sees a dog in public he will bark and growl at it.

Kunikida:

Won’t let you on the bed without socks on. You could be sick as a dog and he’ll still enforce this rule.

Cleaning is hard because he has a hard time throwing things away. You'll spend extra time as he holds two identical pens, trying to decide which one he wants to keep. He’s learned to plan certain days in his schedule for cleaning now.

Won't let you turn up the music in the car and will keep it at a level that's so low it's annoying.

Twain:

Walks around the house shirtless but then complains about how cold it is.

Blasts his music so loud when he wakes up in the morning and it's always early 2000’s hits. It's not rare for you to have Pocketful of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield stuck in your head by 9 am.

Always has to climb something, this stems from his adventurous side. It's not really that annoying but when you’re in a crowded area and he runs off to go climb the tall statue, screaming at you to take a photo… Yes it is. Especially when children try and follow him and you're stuck receiving glares from the parents.

Akutagawa:

Will not let you throw any food products out. He tells you it's a perfectly good meal (even if it's not) and that he will eat it tomorrow. It’s sad because you know this stems from childhood but it’s still annoying.

Reuses the same gross, musty ziplock baggies. You keep buying new ones but he doesn't get it lol.

Will tell you if your breath smells, hair is messy, outfit is ugly. He does not see an issue with this and it's nice knowing someone has your back but he doesn't have to be so rude about it..

Atsushi:

If he drinks he's one of those drinkers who will not let you take it from him. Keeps an iron grip on the cup. He finishes it no matter how drunk and always throws up. Thankfully he rarely drinks.

He stops to help everyone, literally even if they just look like they need help. You've been late to so many things.

Will eat anything. Once you made steak and somehow forgot about it. It was hard as a brick yet he still almost broke his teeth eating it. You think you saw some tears as he told you it was delicious.

Mori:

Listens to people's conversations in public and isn't afraid to comment, loudly, about it. You know it's loud because they either stop talking or try and confront you guys.

Comes up to stops fast and brakes so hard you feel like he does it on purpose.

Sometimes if he and Elise get into a “disagreement” he’ll try and rope you in to take his side and you always do, knowing it would probably give him more satisfaction if you chose to side with her.

Poe:

Asks for constructive criticism but will then argue with you about why you're wrong.

Always humming a song he heard Twain singing and then it gets stuck in your head too.

Will deny stupid things like why your favorite mug is in the trash or why he just let out rather loud scream in the bathroom. You know he's lying because he looks away and makes sure his bangs are covering his eyes.

Ranpo:

Will call you out on any lie even if you don't mean to lie you just forgot about some of the details.

Don't take him grocery shopping if you have a set amount you want to spend. He won't even sneak, he will just say he wants something and throw it in the cart.

Such a backseat driver even though he can't drive.

Fitzgerald:

Likes to act like he's still in his twenties and will somehow get the two of you invited to college parties where he will attempt to do a kegger in front of everyone. You end up being the one to hold him up and he always ends with a, “LETS FUCKING GO!”

Likes to ask for the senior discount even though he's not that old, he just likes to hear the women validate that he's not old.

It’s scary how he used to buy without looking and now will scream if the price on a price tag is too high.

Steinbeck:

Always looking at the grass for wheat to chew on. It's so cheesy when you walk into the city and he's got it sticking out of his mouth.

He gets weirdly intimate with nature and you feel like you're third wheeling.

Has the mentality that he has to provide for you because he is the man. He gets so shocked when he finds out you still want to work.

Chuuya:

Has a hard time making decisions you could ask him what he wants for dinner and his mind will just break.

Gets way too pissed at movies and will actually get up and walk away. Once you were kicked out of the theater because he wouldn't stop yelling at the screen. Another time he walked out you waited a whole ten minutes before you realized he wasn't coming back.

Sometimes activates his ability at night and it's so scary waking up to him floating halfway across the room.

WOMAN TIME!!!!!!!!!!

Yosano:

Will glare at you so intensely if you say something she disagrees with.

Always tries to rope you into drinking with her even if you’ve said no the past ten nights.

Will describe wounds or injuries in such detail and just won’t stop, almost like she’s trying to fuck with you, but she’s not.

Gin:

Claims to be nothing like her big brother but then will go on to make the same facial expressions and do some of the same mannerisms as him.

Will spend hours trying things on just to put it all back, leave the store and change her mind when you’re almost home. Then she’ll have you run back with her to buy it all.

Is used to sneaking around so scares you a lot. Also on the topic of being silent sometimes she just won’t respond, thinking you can just read her vibes / mind.

Kouyou:

Will judge what you eat, especially fast food but will try and steal a fry in private when you're not looking.

Will say things like, “Well that's just the way the world works.” If someone tries to share their baggage with her. You understand she’s had a pretty rough life but it's caused you to almost spit out your drink multiple times.

At functions forgets about you for about an hour while she mingles with everyone else, you could tap on her shoulder and she'll dismiss you like you're a subordinate. Until you clear your throat again you'll see the slight blush as she apologizes.

Higuchi:

She has no sense of privacy. If she hears a crash or loud noise she will bust down the door. It’s sweet but not when the noises are usually from you knocking all the shampoo bottles down again.

Horrible road rage actually puts you on edge to be in the car with her. She doesn't even have to be driving.

Likes to act like she's a professional at everything and people usually believe it because of her suit. It's so nerve wracking when she giggles when they walk away with false information.

Alcott:

Will agree to everything you suggest but you can only tell when she doesn’t want to do it when you’re currently doing it.

Yet she’s not afraid to grumble about how annoying it is when someone bumps into you and doesn’t apologize. It’s sweet but you’re left dealing with the situation if the person is aggressive enough to say something.

Always corrects your spelling or if you say something like “I could care less.”

Lucy:

Will fish for compliments in a very obvious way like, “Wow. Wish someone would call me pretty..” and then just stare right at you.

Kicks you so violently in her sleep but won't let go of you so you cant get away.

Constantly stealing from restaurants. You're banned from a couple restaurants because she got caught trying to steal a cup or salt shaker.

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itsleese · 3 years

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boxing gym anon here where their boxing gyms are across from eachother and they have those cliche turf war things,,, trying to steal eachother’s clients, bragging about better equipment, ... like people go to the bakusquad gym for kirishima’s sunshine ass so the dekusquad brings out izuku to compete, etc. so one day bakugou goes over to talk shit (as usual 🙄) and reader ends up showing him up in the ring and then bakugou’s like “yo that shit’s hot” and i mean... sweaty lockeroom sex 👀👀

unrelated but also smth i had to get out: underground fighting au where reader is just there announcing the fights and shit so she can get her cash and go home but then mr bakugo comes out... they’re eyeing eachother and then bakugo gets pissed cause the dude didnt even put up that much of a fight for all the hype so u and him go to the back so he can let out some steam.. sweaty lockeroom sex 👀

on a softer note i love your writing and your blog so much you’re such a sweet and kind person wishing you the best, also congrats on your pregnancy! ✨💕

oooooh yes yes yes im hot for this ALL OF THIS. i binged Kingdom on Netflix, so fighters are like... on my MIND always atm.

take this bc now it’s just rotting my brain 😫

You started managing Izuku’s gym after the break up. Sure, it was weird at first, but before the relationship you were friends, so it was like... going back in time.

In a way.

He trusts you as much as he trusts his other friends, but you were on the top of his list to ask when he took over from Toshinori. Tsuyu’s managing Ochako and a few rising stars, Iida’s got his hands full with Shou and Izuku and Shinsou, and the only other person he’d ask has his own gym a couple blocks away.

So, it was natural he’d ask you to be manager. You stopped fighting after the bike crash, and was your 9-5 really fulfilling?

The gym’s nice; might need some renovations here and there— ladies locker room especially— but it’s nice. Everyone knows each other, and the members make a note of loving the fact Izuku didn’t give up his career to run the gym.

“Izuku wouldn’t give up his career for anything, trust me,” you laugh lightly, not missing the feeling of your ex’s worried stare. “Fighting is his life, huh, Izu?” You wink at him.

You’re not caught up on him, not really. But it makes you feel a bit better to tease him, to rub the salt in the wound a little.

“So, this is it, huh?” Comes a new voice, loud and brash.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him, but you’d know Bakugo Katsuki’s voice anywhere. Everyone knows Bakugo. He looks around the place like it’s beneath him, crosses those heavily tattooed arms over the skin tight shirt clinging to his pecks.

“It’s been a long time, Midoriya!” The redhead next to him smiles, pushing ahead of him to pull Izuku into a hug. That’s Kirishima, at least he’s pleasant.

“You made it!” Izuku laughs, patting his back before pulling away.

So this is a pre-arranged visit? And you weren’t told? Other people you recognise— Kaminari, Sero, Mina— wander in laughing and joking, pulling Shouto and Ochako away from their training; even Iida comes out of his office.

A reunion of sorts.

And you weren’t told.

“You look pissed,” Bakugo says, coming to stand next to you, watching as everyone greets one another like they’re old pals. Which, technically, they are. “Nothin’ wrong with a little friendly competition.”

“If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve hired some girls to serve canapés and champagne, your highness.” You snip at him, sending him a fake smile. His grin just grows.

“Unbutton that blouse and tie it up under your tits. I’m not picky with my serving girls.” He ogles you, but you know it’s just to rile up Izuku, can feel him staring at the two of you while he talks to old friends.

“Are you staying long? I can pop a bottle?” You ask professionally, pretending not to notice his red eyes giving you the up and down.

“Maybe,” he shrugs, taking a step away from you as Izuku approaches.

“Kacchan, good to see you,” he smiles, pulling him into a hug.

“Nice to see you without a cast for a change, shitty Deku.” Bakugo laughs.

“I’m gonna go get some drinks and food sorted.” You excuse yourself, feeling a little awkward. Izuku’s quick to get flustered about it.

“Hey, no it’s okay, it’s not that big of a deal—” he begins, pulling away from Bakugo, hands up defensively.

“Izuku, please,” you laugh, turning away, about to head towards your office. “Can’t have the rival gym crew come over and not offer them hospitality. I’ll set something up out back, don’t worry.”

“Oi,” Bakugo calls right as you walk off. You stop and turn, raising a brow at him. “Don’t forget that wardrobe change.” He grins, runs his tongue along his top row of teeth.

Fuck, it’s gonna be a long day.

#bakugo x reader #fighter au #fighter!bakugo #I AM IN TOO DEEP #STOP ME PLS #AAAAAAAAA

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

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Guys My Age

Summary: Octavio blows off his legs in the ring, again. Ajay needs time to fix them up- about two weeks. That is absolutely unacceptable for a man who needs to constantly be on the move. Bugging Alexander should be a fun time, right? OR. In which: Octavio and Alexander high key are pining for each other and sexual tensions finally bring us to this moment.

(Older content)

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Caustic/Octane

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Octane has hella body mods, mutual pining

Words: 5k

__________

It had been a great match! Truly! Octane had held the lead as kill leader for a good portion of it, delighting in the rush of being on the watch list for other champions and newbies alike. He was much more interesting in bouncing around from place to place, sprinting ahead of the group and listening to Caustic hiss in his communicator to get his ass back and stick with the squad.

Especially when there was only the two of them, as the newbie said they could do this themselves, and well. Poof! Off and gone and probably lying in a ditch somewhere until the dropship would get them and transport them to the med bay.

Octane didn’t worry too much about it, too much in his own brain than to listen to Caustic’s deep voice.

Every time he hissed for him to get back there, he’d laugh back. “What? I get the feeling you’re starting to like me, amigo.” Only to be met with silence back in his ear until Caustic caught back up and would haul him to cover so they could at least hunker down somewhere.

Each touch felt like electric- not that Octane would admit it. Or be the first to admit it, that was.

~Rest under the cut~

Caustic was a hard ass in the ring, everyone knew that. He used it as his personal lab to experiment new toxins on champions, newbies, the wildlife- it didn’t matter. Octane shouldn’t have felt a thing for him, but he was so vicious in his speech and his mannerisms. Hauling Octane over his shoulder when he was in danger even if Octane could do it himself and do it twice- no. Thrice as fast!

But, when he picked on the big guy, all he got in reply were grumbles, telling him to shut up and focus on the match. Victory was just around the corner.

Couldn’t help himself sometimes, could you blame him?

Admiring the back of Alexander and sighing wistfully. Sure those layers hid pretty much all of him- but Octavio could tell that that man was built. Not full of muscle like Gibraltar- no that guy was PACKED. But Alexander was strong with a soft tummy and- wait what were they doing again?

RIGHT! Right the match. Right. Fighting- where's Caustic?

That’s about right when he hears it. The ticking underneath his body and then the familiar heat of pain searing his lower half and the sound of one of his legs busting from the explosion.

Alexander isn’t pleased when they’re in the med bay. They’d been the top three of squads, but with only two people they were doomed from the start. Or at least, that’s what Octavio heard him grumble in annoyance about. Doesn’t even check on him- the bastard.

The explosion leaves him with one leg, Ajay wouldn’t be able to make him another until two weeks out. TWO WHOLE WEEKS! And not only that, but she needed his still intact leg to calibrate the new one! UGH.

Which meant boredom. For two weeks. Now that had to be a joke. But, no.

So, he’s sent home on Ajay’s watchful and annoyed gaze feeling more like a damsel in distress than a legend out of commission for the time being. The compound is quiet when he makes his way to his apartment, sitting on his couch and pouting.

It takes not forty-eight hours before he caves. His wheelchair becomes his act of vengeance for the confinement of his room. The halls in the middle of the night are heard of him sliding up and down the halls laughing to himself. No one seems amused, but no one can really stop him either.

It takes a total of seventy-two hours before he’s texting. And boy, does he text. Fingers flying over the keys to anyone who will be stupid enough to reply.

He’s lounging on his couch in a pair of sponsored black and green boxers that are cut short to show the cut off edges of his thighs, only enough to wrap hands around to feel them, still strong from the help of Ajay’s inventions. They can only lift ever so much when he tries to move them by themselves, frustrated at the lack of ability to run around and get rid of extra energy. A black crop top is fit snug to show off his abdomen, his mask long since discarded for comfort.

His black hair was shaved into an undercut, left longer on top with a few inches left to the length. A green streak zipping through the fluffy mess. Piercings covered his ears and a scar through the arch of his left brow. His eyes frantically zipped over the screen of his phone, a vivid hue of green to his irises as much as his favorite color. He bites his bottom lip, feeling his snake bites and sliding his tongue over his teeth just to feel his tongue stud nudge and click against them.

He’s got Alexander wrapped up in conversation. At least, that’s what he tells himself he’s got. It’s more like he’s writing paragraph after paragraph about how bored he is, about how he wishes he could have some FUN, do something. And Alexander is replying with ‘ok’ like he’s an ancient father who doesn’t know how to text.

It’s not like Octavio should know that he’s pissing him off. It’s not like he would care if he was, either. Nothing would become of it, even if he wanted something to. To feel that man’s fingers wrapped around his throat, nails biting into sensitive flesh, oh that would be thrill enough to satisfy him for weeks. Or, well, minutes at the very least.

It isn’t until his fourth back to back text without Alexander responding does he pick up something is wrong.

O: cmon man im soooooooooo bored see how many os there are

O: just bring some booze or smth

O: please alex just help ur amigo out

O: now ur just being rude

All back to back with little read symbols next to them. Dick.

He’s hopeful he’s coming, but there’s something about the aura shift that tells him maybe he should have shut up a little bit ago. Alexander had a key, Octavio didn’t need to worry about him busting down the door because he didn’t answer it. Or maybe he’d given up on responding and just automatically started clicking on them just to shut up Octavio? Nah, he was a dick, but he wouldn’t leave a guy on read.

Right?

Oh come on, that was even crueler!

Just as he’s about to send his fifth text, there’s a noise at the door. A jerk of the knob makes his heart jump in his throat, pulling himself onto his elbows before the lock is turned.

In the doorway is Alexander himself, some nice casual wear on him of a v neck black t-shirt, jeans, and a black jacket thrown over everything. He looked decent- but boy did he look pissed. Octavio hardly has time to eye him up before the door is slammed and locked again.

“Ah! Alex! Finally- jeez I thought you gave up on me!” Octavio’s smile is bright and cheeky, eyes narrowing in delight as he sees Alexander’s look.

Alexander’s jaw is set tight. Octavio hardly got to see him without that damned gas mask in the way, revealing a salt and pepper beard, his hair pushed back but a few strands curling onto his round, freckled and liver spotted face. His lips look chapped but Octavio nearly bites his own at the thought of them pressing up his neck.

Not the time when he’s mad at you.

Upon no response, he flops back onto his back and makes a waving motion. Not feeling the calculated stare on his face and hair, something Alexander had seen briefly in rings before when Octavio had to pull his mask up, but never his full face, sans goggles and everything. It was...pleasant to see.

“Make yourself at home, compadre.” Octavio says nonchalantly, not taking note to the stare on his lips as his own eyes shut as if he’s trying to block out the company. When he’d just been rearing to go on the phone.

He still is. His fingers tapping insistently on his toned stomach, body seeming to bounce in place without the aid of his legs to get rid of the itch to move. Octavio isn’t stupid, he knows when something is off- and Alexander not taking a bite at him counted as something off.

He opens his acidic green eyes once again, only to be face to face with said man studying him like he’d been nothing more than an insect. Or perhaps a kitten with the fondness in his eyes.

Octavio only grins ear to ear, showing off dimples and sharp canines. “Ey, take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Perhaps not how he wanted his last words to be, because in that instant his hair is grabbed and he’s suddenly jerked.

A yelp he’d deny later leaves his lips, shouting out ‘Hey hey hey!’ like trying to soothe an angered animal as he’s lifted, like he weighed nothing, from around his waist. He’s pretty sure Alexander is going to chuck him out the window or destroy his phone but- then he’s...he’s sitting.

Sitting and putting Octavio in his lap. A firm hand in his hair still, keeping Octavio’s head to the side and back to expose his neck. His heart starts pumping, feelings mixing hard together, but two stand out the most.

Adrenaline- the adrenaline he’d been wanting to feel for days now. And pure want, molten lava heat blossoming in his belly as his eyes flutter to the rough treatment.

“Stop. Talking. You have been insistent that I show my presence here, and now you are going to listen to me this time. Got it?” The way Alexander speaks is calm and calculated, but there’s this edge, a bit of a tilt to it. Something not quite anger- desire, maybe? Octavio doesn’t get to think long on it when his hair is jerked and he gasps out.

“Yes! Yes, yes, si!” His voice is rushed, hurried, as if he couldn’t say it quick enough. He’s practically vibrating in Alexander’s lap, lack of legs driving him insane by now. Especially because only Alexander’s grip could keep him afloat atop him right now. One hand gripped in his hair the other grabbing onto a hip.

Octavio’s scarred thigh tissue doesn’t bug him when all he can do is essentially wiggle them. Splayed out across Alexander’s lap- open like this? Oh, this was better than any drug hit straight to the bloodstream. The utter power behind those hands, calloused and near making him groan when a thumb brushes so sweetly over the skin of his hip, just barely skimming the stud to a hip dermal exposed over the top of his boxers.

“Good.” Alexander says after a moment before Octavio feels lips brush over his pulse line.

It should have been sweet, could have been too, but then teeth dig in sharply. He inhales just as sharp, body jerking and hands going up to grip at the other man’s shoulders. Digging his nails in as a dark bruise is sucked into his flesh.

He breathlessly laughs at the rush running through his veins as his hair is pulled tighter until his neck is strained and more exposed. He would have taken Alexander to be an old-fashioned sorta guy, take him out to dinner and then talk his ear off about experiments. Not show up at his door and absolutely ravish his neck in hickeys.

Octavio’s hard already, dark lashes fluttering when the hand at his hip drags him forward against something that is unmistakably the other’s dick. Wow, and he was going to make a joke about Viagra. Unfortunately, it seems Alexander knew him all too well because the hand gripping his hair and straining his neck slides down to his throat instead. Mouth pulled away and there’s a slight pressure on his neck.

Just hard enough to get him to grin brightly to show sharp canines and roll himself challengingly forward into his grip.

The hand on his hip jerks him forward then pulls him back once again. Without the balance of his leg muscles, Octavio would have fallen flat trying to hump Alexander as much as he’d like to, like a starving dog. The scientist is careful about keeping a tight enough grip. The hand on his throat going to the nape of his neck and Octavio falls forward without much other prompting.

Arms wind around broad shoulders, his face buried into the crook of Alexander’s neck and feeling his pulse racing as hard as his own is. Alexander’s breaths are heavy and deep, while Octavio is much higher pitched, whinier and trying to get his partner to speed up the process.

“C’mon- you’re going to slow! Speed it up, c’mon, c’mon-” His voice is a near sob dropping at the end syllable when Alexander growls at him in return.

“I thought I told you to shut up.” His voice is deep, his eyes monitoring Octavio for just a moment to see if he’d say anything else.

Pulling him back just enough to see the glassy eyes and flushed face of the smaller man who looks about love sick when he nods agreeably in return. “Good. Do not make me remind you a third time. You are at my mercy until otherwise you change your mind.”

An offering. An opening. That if Octavio wasn’t comfortable, he need only say the word and he’d be off the hook.

He opens his mouth to say something about hurrying up, but upon Alexander’s narrowing eyes, he shuts it again in favor of whining low in his throat to sound pathetic. Bouncing as best as he could to try and get friction and when all he gets is a chuckle, he just about cries.

Well...Until Alexander is gripping the back of his head and shoving their mouths together.

It’s not the most romantic of kisses, but his hands fly to grip Alexander’s salt and peppered hair. Twisting fingers within it to keep him firmly right there and earning a grunt from the older man when his teeth sink into his chapped bottom lip. The groan is enough to allow Octavio a boost of confidence, licking his way into the other’s mouth until both are sighing with pleasure.

There’s...a mutual, unspoken thing here. Octavio can feel it in the way the control of Alexander’s grip flutters towards the curve of his waist instead. How he’s held tenderly instead of bruising. He expected hard and fast, wham bam thank you ma’am.

But there’s a new heat, a new feeling shared between them as he’s pulled forward- not in search of pleasure, but in seek of body to body touching. It’s romantic- it could be, at the very least.

If, you know, both of them weren’t hard and Octavio also didn’t taunt him until he came over with the wrath of God in his eyes.

There’s a sharp sensation in his side from nails digging in, but Octavio is much more interested in discovering how Alexander’s mouth curves in pleasure when he moans into his mouth instead. He could laugh at how easily the scientist could be interested in such simple noises, but he’s truly thrown for a loop when the bigger of the two suddenly lifts Octavio up. Straight up, as if he’s a rag doll.

It’s...kind of hot.

Lips separated, he uses his hands to grasp at Alexander’s hair and pulls to elicit a growl from him. Octavio laughs, naturally amused by his pain until his briefs are ripped off in one go and he’s set back in the older man’s lap unceremoniously.

There’s a pause where Octavio opens his mouth to yell, but obediently shuts it when he’s given a look. He shivers briefly, left in his crop top as his cock bobs back onto his abdomen. A small bead of pre-cum sticking to the warmed flesh there.

His cock has got a nice lean to it, a nice weight and thickness. He’s a nice six inches in length, thick with a few barbells on the underside of his dick going up in four silver barbells of a Jacob’s ladder. The head is flushed a warmed rosy color, shiny from pre-cum, prominent veins against his naturally tanned olive flesh. Silver barbells stick out on the V lines of his hips too, hip dermal piercings with a tuft of soft black curls resting at the base of his cock.

Alexander would never admit how beautiful he was. Now with hands rested on his broad shoulders and the daredevil’s head bowed almost in embarrassment- but judging by his quickened breath he likes it. Especially when Alexander grips his bare hips, digging him downwards into his clothed cock just to hear the younger let out a rush of a breath in arousal.

Alexander wasn’t normally...much on touchy feely sex. He’d come here mad, planned on shoving the brat’s face into the couch and taking him hard and fast and leaving him wanting more. But something’s there- something he needed to reevaluate at another time once said brat lets out a bit of a laugh now. “Gonna just stare or are you gonna keep going, amigo?”

“Thought I told you to shut your mouth?” Is his easy reply back, voice deep and vibrating through his chest. The way it affects Octavio is one to note, the full body shiver and challenging gaze like asking what he was going to do about it.

He should just use the brat like a sex toy, bounce him on his cock with no prep. He’s sure Octavio would like that, he already is flushed head to toe, squirming in his lap, looking to start a fight. So full of energy and rearing to go.

He feels so good on him too, but...

With a switch decision, he moves Octavio. Pulling the couch’s throw pillows so he could rest Octavio’s head and abdomen on the pillow beneath him. Octavio makes a confused noise as he’s flipped onto his abdomen and out of his lap, about to complain until he feels his hips being pulled up.

One arm goes under his waist to keep him up, allowing his cock to brush the hairy and strong forearm around him. It’s a teasing friction that makes him arch, but then another is grabbing at his ass. Shapely from running around, he’ll admit. But then one cheek is pulled apart and oh-

Oh.

Oh!

Wetness brushes over his hole, a warm swipe of a tongue. He’s never- no one’s ever. Oh. He doesn’t know whether to be embarrassed more over the act or that he likes it.

“Ah-” He starts to moan, cut off as he crosses his arms under his head and buries his mouth into them. Normally he liked his partners to know how good he felt, running his mouth. But judging by the sharp nails digging into his flesh, that wasn’t wise to do.

It’s a curious motion, licking, swiping before lips come into play. Open mouthed kisses over his entrance, a tongue peeking in and swiping upwards before a finger comes into play. Already pre slicked with saliva and a hand cheekily grabbing his balls briefly before sliding up over his perineum and making its way inside.

He groans faintly, and he swears he feels a grin with the mouth pressed onto one of his cheeks. Biting gently and making Octavio jerk from the motion.

One finger becomes two, then three. Scissoring him as his cock leaks pre-cum and jerks against nothing. He tried seeking friction, hips trying to bounce, but the arm keeps him firmly in place until he’s left sobbing. Keening for more as Alexander twists his fingers smoothly and presses upwards. Massaging against his prostate as he sucks hickeys into the man’s thigh and hip.

“Fuck me! Come on- come on stop teasing! Just fuck me-” He’s so full of gusto. Bucking his hips, squirming, before it ends with a choked sob when fingers stab upwards into the bundle of nerves.

Octavio feels pathetic- has never felt so pathetic or so small during sex before. He liked switching often enough, but this? This was a new experience for him to be so...well, submissive and obedient.

He knows he shouldn’t talk, but he can’t help it. Talking was in his nature. Running his mouth a mile a minute but he’s spared this time at least.

Alexander sits back on the couch and he’s pulled into his broad lap. Rendered useless yet again as he’s held. Their cocks press together, and Octavio takes the time to look down and really see what he’s been missing out on.

He...Doesn’t expect Alexander to be so big. He’s thick, really thick actually, a fat dick. He’s about maybe an inch bigger, not decorated like his own and uncut with a shiny pink head peeking from the soft flesh there. He’s got some liver spots and freckles at the base, giving the paler flesh some character with thin almost red curls at the base. Ah, so he’s a natural blonde? He’d laugh if he wasn’t so busy trying to breathe.

“You sure you want this?” Comes Alexander’s voice, uncharacteristically soft as he smooths thumbs over Octavio’s hips. Alexander’s still fully clothed, jacket shrugged off long ago and jeans undone to release his dick. Mouthwatering sight, really. Especially when his normally acidic eyes are so gentle, a soft crease between thick brows that makes Octavio’s heart jumps.

Oh, he’s so fucked.

“Yes- yes, yes, yes, please? Please??? Come on I hate begging, just fuck me.” Octavio might as well have been groveling on his knees by now- or well, stumps. But, by God’s gracious being, Alexander just chuckles. Shaking his head as he licks his palm to smooth saliva down his cock for crude lube. Octavio might have told him about the condoms and lube in his bedroom, if he wasn’t excited and squirming in his seat for the delicious friction that was about to happen.

He’s pulled upwards with the same strength in those arms, pulling him up until he feels the blunt head at his hole. His fingers grip at Alexander’s shoulders, digging his painted black nails in even as a soft voice murmurs ‘relax’ for him.

It shouldn’t make his heart twinge, it shouldn’t make him think there was more to this than sexual frustration and anger. It shouldn’t be anything other than a quick fuck.

But, oh, the way Alexander nuzzles at his cheek when Octavio draws himself close enough to bury into his shoulder, it makes him want to scream in pent up emotions. He’d rather fuck it out.

There’s the drop, the slow burn that makes him feel like he can’t breathe. He whines in his throat, clenching on reflex only to have soothing hands rubbing up his flanks but keeping a hold of him. Keeping him up and easing him down, down, down.

Octavio releases a breath he’s holding as he takes the thick cock inside of him. Taking to pressing his face into the crook of Alexander’s neck tighter only to feel a large hand grab the back of his head. Or rather, just hold him. Threading fingers into his jet black dyed hair and kind of scritching with the tips of his fingers. Alexander isn’t too off either, his breathing heavier, a groan escaping as his dick gives a sharp twitch inside of him.

It’s a raw feeling, being so open like this. So, Otavio fills the silence with a whine beneath Alexander’s ear. “Are you going to- ah- fuck me? Or are you just going to keep me as a cock warmer, eh?”

It’s a mistake to say that.

He’s not allowed to talk, Octavio’s brain helpfully supplies three seconds after the last syllable leaves his lips. The soft hands petting him turn to grips on his hips and a warning of a dark chuckle, “You aren’t to tell me what I can and can’t do with you.” Alexander’s voice did not have the right to be that hot.

And up he goes, dropped right back onto his cock with the slow drag. He doesn’t have his legs to kick at him, or to really throw much of a fight. Even if he loved every second of this, he could be such a brat sometimes.

He’s fucked in earnest at the very least, used like a sex doll. Lifted up then shoved back down or left to drop with his own body weight. Octavio howls with pleasure, jerking his head and his shoulders jumping as the consistent pace and the burning drag feels like it’s going to tear him apart.

The crude use of saliva as lube never truly stays, they work together in tandem now, the harsh slide eased by the pace.

The aching burn for Octavio turning to white hot streaks of pleasure, the tight harsh heat of Octavio’s body only serving to make Alexander groan into his ear. Burying his face into his hair and holding Octavio close with one arm. The other helping him to move, grind, sink down onto his cock as Octavio’s own is cruelly ignored.

It’s a pace they both get steady at. Octavio can only be used like this, heavily panting, cock bobbing and thickened as it leaves strings of pre-cum over his abdomen and connecting back to the flushed head. Alexander is no better, groaning, sharp noises from his throat and ending gruff.

There’s no more words to say, Octavio was for sure Alexander would have a filthy mouth. Hell, normally Octavio HIMSELF had a filthy mouth. Would be chanting name after name, fuck me, harder, your cock feels so good, it went on. But he can’t bring himself to break that little rule of Alexander’s.

It’s so good, so fucking good. Alexander is biting into his neck, leaving more hickeys- almost possessive. His own hips are jerking, trying to work with him but the burn of it all is too much.

“Alex-Alexander. Fuck- don't- I can’t-” Octavio can’t seem to get it out. Squeezing tight around the large man, fingers grasping him firm enough to leave his knuckles white. One hand rests on his hip soon enough, jerking him to grind and thrust Alexander’s fat cock inside of him maybe an inch or two. The other hand coming to rest over Octavio’s dick. Jerking in quick paces.

Octavio whines. Wails. Cumming too soon for his liking, cum shooting into the other’s hand, through the small hole it made and onto the hairy, soft tummy he’s been trying to rut up against for the past few minutes.

Normally he’d be all about a round two, cumming multiple times, maybe slamming stim after stim into his thigh. But that orgasm was so satisfying, making him tear up a little. His body jerking, over sensitive when Alexander keeps milking him through it. It seems like it’s more for himself than Octavio, especially when the poor big guy suddenly shifts.

Octavio finds himself lying back down. Oh how he would kill to wrap his legs around his waist and force Alexander deeper. Octavio hisses when his top is pulled up, exposing the pierced nipples of his as the older of the two slams home inside of him with a pleased hiss of pleasure. Seemed he liked all of his body mods. Good.

A warm mouth latches onto one. Alexander has to hunch a bit to do it, belly pressing flush to Octavio’s flat one and effectively trapping the speed demon. His warm, broad tongue swiping over the sensitive flesh even as Octavio stutters on a gasp, over sensitive, too much.

Especially with that fat cock working its way into him with small, quick, well timed thrusts. He’s worried that Alexander isn’t even close until he hears a telling deep breath through his nose, sharp.

Octavio doesn’t expect Alexander’s mouth to find his so quickly. So starving, kissing him open mouthed and needy. He cums almost silently, save for his quick breaths and choked groans. Filling Octavio up effectively with cum. He clenches down weakly in arousal, cock twitching with interest against the man’s soft belly. Surely smearing cum on the both of them.

When the kiss breaks, it sounds wet. Octavio’s lips are flushed and swollen, parted to pant softly and show off his piercing. Alexander looks a little more composed, tongue flicking over his lips as if to savor Octavio’s taste. Brows furrowed with pleasure as he rocks a little into the daredevil to get the rest of it out of his system.

It’s soft, nice, warm even. The butterflies Octavio felt before come arising again and he can’t help the sly grin as he winds his arms around the big guy’s neck. Playing with the ends of his hair and twirling the strands around them. He relishes for just a moment on how Alexander’s eyes flutter before he comes to a quick thought decision.

“So...Normally this is the part where I ask for round two- but I think instead I want to ask you out.” He starts, laughing when the relaxed face on Alexander turns to shock before it’s composed again. Cool and stoic.

“Well,” His voice is gruff, thicker than before from the sex and sends electric down Octavio’s spine. “I suppose this was not...Too bad of an outcome. However, I am picking the location.”

“Anything you want, papi.”

#Caustane #Caustic #Octane #apex legends #apex lemons #lemon #nsft #princess writing #def not a fan of this fic myself but imma post it anyway for those of yall that did nwiufhriuh #.

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ssvgawara · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu characters as things said in the hhcu

a/n: this is pure humor and just something fun, the hhcu is wild and says stupid shit more than once a day so i complied a ridiculously long list of quotes and put them together in this list to share with yall so please enjoy, read more because again this is so long also pt 2. some of these r pretty nsfw so uh yeah <3

Oikawa: When he gives up his torso 😍

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Nishinoya: Fisherman daddy

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Bokuto: I trust no condiments

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Osamu: YELLOW BAD OIKAWA IS NOT ALLOWED IN MY KITCHEN

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Tendou: Give ass in shiratorizawa?

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Atsumu: Garlic air freshener

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Nishinoya talking about his sex life: ITS THE GOOD OL FASHIONED POW POW GRUNT GRUNT WINDOW WASHER ULTIMATE FRISBEE DICK CONNECTOR

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Hinata: thank you!! also my oven melted??? and caught on fire 😰

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Yaku probably thinking abt kuroo while saying this: not gonna front im terrified of the live action grinch and if i ever see him its on sight

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Kageyama: Except that one mustard faze I had

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Lev after yaku kicks him yet again: NO INCH ACTIVE INCH VERY ACTIVE

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Suga after Kiyoko holds his hands: premarital eye contact is already a sin

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Iwaizumi realizing Oikawa probably wouldn’t know the difference between hawaiian rolls and milk bread: when he says hit it till it breaks, he means the packaging of hawaiin rolls

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All of Seijoh to Oikawa: You know whats really sexy? Self care.

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Hoshihumi: like a three year old. still baby but also evil at times🤡

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Oikawa right before his death: "MORNING HAJI!~" slaps tiddie

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Anyone falling on love with haikyuu boys: hey a good reverse harem never hurt anyone

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Idk who says it but terushima would do this: places his hand to my heart but then hes like heh heh boob squishy

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Tendou: centrepical force saved my bag of chocolate!!

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Lev thinking it was a literary masterpiece: *reads about a fourth of the bee movie*

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Hinata making fun of Kageyama: milk is better than the feeling of the ball touching your fingertips during a perfect set

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Hinata and Kageyama failing tests: thats just the dumbass in me babey!!!

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Atsumu simply trying to annoy Osamu: Are y’all meaning to tell me you DON’T take your raw chicken on walks through the city?

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Yahaba: PUSSY ALWAYS LEAVES

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Mattsun just to annoy everyone: yall ever think about how in the 50s and 60s they just put raw hotdogs or shrimp into jello and ate that shit and enjoyed it???

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Suga: i am now crying and my boyfriend is concerned and i can’t tell him that I’ve lost my husband and children

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Kenma; Smh my head

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Bokuto: Sorry not all of us can have double decker extra stuffed bottoms up extra large super sized t n a like me🥰🥰💅💅

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Everyone to bokuto: titty enthusiast ✨✨

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Me to kuroo: sorry babe youre a scorpio you dont have any rights anymore

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Tendou: i accidentally lit a baby on fire

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Atsumu: This feels real human centipede

Bokuto: theyre not ass to mouth

Atsumu: Close enough

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Bokuto when a minor inconvience happens: Why are we still here? Just to suffer? Every day, I wake up....

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Sakusa: Remove your lips from my penis

Atsumu: I use a gluestick as chapstick i cant

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Goshiki: Arson or boot in my book, set fire to something live a little

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Tsukishima: I don’t like recieving pain. It hurts

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Kenma annoyed w kuroo: Put your dick in the fucking catfish’s pussy then

Kuroo being annoying: How deep is catfish pussy

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Makki to Mattsun: Ayo babe what if we fucked on the catfish tank

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Kiyoko tiredly, to Tanaka: I’m not putting salt and pepper on my pussy lips

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Saeko: I’ve got that Deep dish, super soaker, wet, succulent dripping honey suckle like sweet marinated mooseknuckle, extra thick, slip n slide, water park, waterbender, extra ribbed, the seven seas, gorilla grip, flex tape, primordial soup Dwayne the Rock Johnson, Cardi B, Megan Thee Stallion pussy

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Atsumu not really knowing what cooch means: I got the body builder cooch

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Oikawa after not sleeping to train, extremely sleep deprived: youre got unending

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Goshiki; Commit arson

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Akaashi: I leave for 10 minutes and Bokuto is 240v (mouth edition) fuckmaster pro 4000 with semen drip collection tray, automated self-lubricating 6 speed pulsating pussy and built in Polycrystalline floatable silicon

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Oikawa; I’m coming to murk your ass xoxo

Iwa: I will literally shiv you bitch

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Kindaichi: ✨ bob duncan exterminates you asmr✨

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Makki: I’ll try to find my favorite about Jacob sartorius vampire babies with Hillary Clinton

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Kenma after playing some obscure video game: also i can’t sleep😔 too busy thinking about human sized bats

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ME fuck yall im carpetting my bathroom: you already put rugs in the bathroom might as well carpet that bitch

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Kuroo talking abt something sciency idk: LIKE A BODY WIG

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Seijoh when iwa throws balls at oikawa: spousal abuse right in front of my salad

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Hinata making up some new stupid song: Ants on a log ants on a log

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Atsumu to piss off Osamu once more: world f amous allegra chicken

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Semi: Gay little Ushijima’s left hand

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Bokuto: Are you disagreeing with the fact that I am thicc as phuck

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Kiyoko: Guys is it uh... is it possible to sprain a titty cause.... Uh....

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Terushima: He laughed at the end of his own joke what a fuckin chad

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Bokuto: IS THAT THE DOG FROM ZOOTOOIA

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Kageyama: milk is kinda like organ paint huh

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Nishinoya: i don’t think socks taste good

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Tendou: out of your mummy, into my tummy

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Hinata; shout out to me who thought chickens had four legs until last summer

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Oikawa Hanger: I WANNA HANG MY CLOTHES ON HIM

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Kenma: What a little pissbaby

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Yamaguchi: i am literally so curious about what it's like to kiss a boy that it's almost killing me

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Daichi about Suga: he may be cute, but istg there’s some kind of raging devil trapped in him

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Saeko: fuck society my titties are out

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Hinata after getting lecture by everyone for sneaking into the training camp: GOOD NEWS MY DAD IS NOT GOING TO PUT ME IN THE OVEN

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Just me thinking abt any first years: children. toddlers. Tikes.

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Me waiting for the fever: When is malaria?

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Uhhhhh probably tendou his vibes: Ill electrocute his cock

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Akaashi just go w it probably about bokuto: Why is he shoving cheese up the pussy

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Osamu tiredly: Ooey gooey cheesy chicken vagaina

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Nishinoya trying to catch a very large fish: Dom the Crab

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Bonus crabagraph: The crabs death reverberated and struck fear into the hearts of all crabs in existence because of this one 60+ year old mans volatile universe-crunching swing. Dude defied the laws of gravity by simply getting pinched by the crab. Man just reinvented the laws of physics and all of science due to the sheer force of will and untapped wellsprings if potential unleashed by the crab. If aliens show up it’s because the supersonic radio waves released by the banging of the crab against the cabinet are the first ever created in the universe. Man could cause a ripple in space-time with his crab launching abilities. Guy probably opened a gateway into another universe when he launched the crab. You see how the cabinet door opened and stayed open? It’s because this elder tore a hole through the fabric of reality to the Other Side simply because he experienced a minor bit of pain. The way he released a defeated roar of agony. The ancient gods awoke from their deep slumber and this old man single-handedly revived all his ancestors. New wars are about to start because of the way this man broke the barriers containing this reality into one fixed area. This universe is now expanding at such a rapid rate the the geosphere will now be reshaped. This man probably unknowingly blasted a hole in the other side of the planet because the shockwaves of the aggressive rippling effect of this poor crustacean slamming at lightning speed into a small wooden frame. The crabs insides were probably fused into the shell because this man’s angry, rage filled, pain filled battering ram of an arm throwing him through every known dimension and re-arriving in this one at the mere moment to experience the most pain a crab ever has or will in the rest of the existence of crabs. This elderly man probably has phased through and broken every human limiter known to man just because he got a minor pinch by a crab. He probably is bio-medically fused with crab DNA at this point. A legend.

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second-chance-stray · 3 years

Photo

Rp Log: The door to Heartwood is blocked.

(...chronologically happens before this!)

Cravendy Hound pushes, but the machine will not budge through the door. She pushes harder. It still does not give. Cravs becomes incredibly angry and kicks it. It does not help whatsoever.

Riylli Aliapoh: "Try turning it again!" Riylli called out to Cravs, being totally helpful as she rested nearby with her hat in her lap.

Cravendy Hound: “Not ‘elpin’. ARGH.” Cravs tries to pull it out in order to adjust its angle, but finds it firmly wedged into the door frame. She takes a few steps back, and then rushes at it, her shoulder leading the attack. And for the second time that day, she regrets charging at metal.

Riylli Aliapoh: "Pfft." Riylli couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at Cravs misfortune. Serves her right for calling Miqo'te 'cat-folk'. She gets herself up on her feet, the ride back on the carbuncle having given her time to recover slightly. "Hmm... I think you got it stuck... Hope no ones inside still?"

Cravendy Hound rubs at her tender arm, wincing all the while. “.....No, there’s definitely people inside.”

Cravendy Hound: "But they're smart. They'll manage." She hopes. "Now 'ow are we gonna get this thing through?"

Riylli Aliapoh frowns, putting all of her thinking juice into the tank. "Maybe... Maybe we can take it apart, then just put it back together inside?" She offered, approaching to look the thing over, despite having no idea what she was actually looking for. "Uh... You good with machines?"

Cravendy Hound sucks air through her teeth. “Don’t think my smarts with guns translates to...to whatever this thing is. Take it apart sure, but don’t know if it’ll be put back together.”

Cravendy Hound hums in thought. “Ye think if we oil it up enough, it’ll slide through?”

Riylli Aliapoh nudged the thing with her foot. "...Maybe? Can't say I've ever had to use the stuff before. Couldn't hurt to try though, right?" She gave a helpful shrug, and another helpful nudge with her foot. "Do... we have oil? Where do we get oil?"

Cravendy Hound: “Uh.” She had not thought that far ahead. “We could go and buy some at the Botanist’s guild back in Gridania. But how many jugs of olive oil would it take to cover this thing, and...shit. Forget I said anythin’, this is a trash idea.”

Riylli Aliapoh: "Well we gotta do something!" Riylli insisted. "My votes still on taking it apart. That's what they're gonna do inside anyway right? What's it matter if we just get it out of the way now?"

(Cravendy Hound) seasoning the machine with oil and salt would just make a bad situation worse xD )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (Gotta season it properly before it can be researched (Rising Lotus) Way to go guys))

Cravendy Hound: “Well. I’m sure it’ll be fine if we just cut apart the outer bits.” She turns and picks up a conveniently placed saw from the frontyard’s forge area. “...Wait. Sawin’ through metal seems...questionable.”

(Cravendy Hound) let it marinate for a good while :D )) (Rising Lotus) how am I suppose to feed my fish now?)) (Haila Wetyios) Oh lord dont season the robot))

Cravendy Hound: “And by questionable, I mean tirin’. Argh, I want a drink.” But the drinks are inside, Cravs. The drinks are inside.

(Haila Wetyios) Kevin's geese are gonna eat it)) (Cravendy Hound) if they eat it, problem solved! Door unblocked xD )) (Cravendy Hound) but then we'll need another lmao )) (Haila Wetyios) Riylli and Cravs: " We got you the robot!" Haila: "Why is it only half of it's body?..."))

Rising Lotus strolls through the gateway to the yard, slowing down as she see's the spider they had just hauled crammed into the dooryway. "...So..." she glances at the two she caught red handed.

Riylli Aliapoh: "Duh, saws are for wood and stuff." Riylli explained, looking around at the forge set up outside. 'What we need is... Hmm... Oh!" The Miqo'te's eyes glistened as she rushed over to the fire and picked up a pair of tongs. "This thing looks perfect!"

Cravendy Hound: "................." She looks away, avoiding Rising's stare.

Riylli Aliapoh: "Rising! Good timing, you get to prove how big and strong you are." She said, flashing a grin as she held up the blacksmiths tongs towards her

Rising Lotus is at quite a loss for words, especially as Riylli ran over to grab a pair of tongs. "..What's your plan here then?" she backed up a bit as the tongs were suddenly offered to her.

Cravendy Hound: “Plannin’ to take the machine apart, cause pushin’ it ain’t workin’.” Cravs walks over and peruses the tools available. A hammer, maybe? Smash it until it’s compact enough to make it through the entryway? Hmm...

Riylli Aliapoh fiddled with the tongs, opening and closing them like they were a set of jaws. "Well, were gonna take the outside parts off the thing, and I bet you can use this to... pull it..? Like peeling an orange." She finished with a nod too confident for the current situation

Rising Lotus "Wasn't the whole point of bringin' it back more intact? I feel like it'll piss Haila off if parts of it are all smashed up, as good a plan as that is..." as she looked over the broken machine and then the doorway she was mentally picturing where to smash it to let it slide, shaking her head of the idea afterwards. " Hmm, I got an idea though, Riylli, can you magic me up a rock?"

(Haila Wetyios) im just here sitting and eating while terrified for this poor spider))

Riylli Aliapoh hesitated, still pretty drained but not about to admit it. "Er... How big? What're you planning?" She asked, absolutely not stalling for time

Cravendy Hound: “If all fails, we can smash the doorway.” In an effort to look cool, Cravs hefts the hammer over her shoulder, but nearly loses her balance as the heavier end falls to the right. The hammerhead is stopped by the stairwell, and Cravs crosses her legs a beat after. All according to plan.

Rising Lotus held her hands apart, about the size of the soccer ball. "All ball like, smooth too."

Cravendy Hound suddenly realizes that there's somewhere she needs to be, and leans back forward. "Bugger, I'll 'ave to leave ye two to it. Best of luck."

(Cravendy Hound) brb dinner! :D ))

Riylli Aliapoh rubbed the back of her head. "Well... I can't really make it into a ball. You kinda just gotta take rocks in the shape they come, unless you wanna sit there working it for bells at a time." She blinked as Cravendy suddenly ran off. "H-Hey! You can't just leave us with your mess!" She called out angrily, then huffed as she realized it was too late and the woman was gone

Rising Lotus rubbed her chin. "Well it's not gonna work if she's gone. Was gonna smash the window with the rock then help unstuck it from the inside." she looked back to Riylli. "You look a little too spent to try that kind of liftin' right now."

Riylli Aliapoh planted her hands on her hips. "I'm fine." She stated stubbornly. "Why'd it even have to be a ball if we were just gonna smash a window with it? And... I don't think Haila and the others'll be happy if we break the window"

Rising Lotus beamed. "Well, I needed you to give me a rock so I could blame ya for breakin' it of course! Figured if it'd be a fancy rock it'd make more sense that you did it." she shrugged "Beside, between the spider, the door frame, the window, whatever might get smashed ain't gonna make people happy. Window jus' seems like it'd be the easier to fix.

Haila Wetyios | Suddenly there was a loud knock on metal from the other side, it was a very alarmed Viera that immediately called out to them. "Please tell me there were no casualties when bringing this?!" she said from the inside as the big spider moved a little bit due to pushing from Haila's end of the door.

Riylli Aliapoh made a face. "Alright, I'm never making any rocks for you now-" She began, only to jump as Haila's voice suddenly rang out from inside. "Um... N-No, no casualties!" Riylli awkwardly called back. "Cravs got the thing stuck trying to fit it through the door though. And Rising was gonna break a window and blame it on me!" She tattled to the Viera mom, giving Rising another glare as she did

Rising Lotus rolled her eyes. "Yeah it went very well, thing should be mostly workin', almost no thanks to Riylli though. She wanted to smash it to get it out of the door." If the miqo'te was going to tattle she might as well too. "But now that you're here, well there, you can help us get it in.. or out maybe. Where do ya want it?

Riylli Aliapoh: "I didn't want to smash it! I wanted to PEEL it. With these tongs!" She clanged them together once more for added emphasis. "You don't need the outside part anyway, right?"

Haila Wetyios stopped trying to push at the spider from her end, for a moment if either of the two were sharp on listening in, they would have heard a sigh of relief from the Viera, followed by silence. "I can tell 'tis mostly intact... and with clean cuts to the joint too.." she murmured, clearly passing her hand over the large creature. She paused, looking it over before calling out to them once more. "How about you just peel back the flesh? It won't really need it and I can attach whatever falls off."

Haila Wetyios | That's right, a good chunk of the spider was actually covered in weird squishy flesh.

Riylli Aliapoh immediately shoved the tongs into Rising's hands, sticking out her tongue victoriously. She was an adult. A victorious adult.

Rising Lotus glared at Riylli, snapping the tongs in an attempt to catch the girl's tongue. "I'm sorry I didn't want to start takin' a killed spider apart! At least comin' from Haila I know it's safe now!" she flung the tongs onto the ground, taking the knife off the back of her belt. "Go grab somethin' to start cuttin' of your own, It's you're an' Crav's fault it's stuck after all, and she ain't here so get to it." she moved to a side of the machine, starting to cut into the fleshy parts and lobbing them>

Rising Lotus off onto the ground.

Riylli Aliapoh: "Wha- It wasn't my fault! Cravs did it all, not me. Maybe if yoouu had been around it wouldn't have gotten stuck." She chided, finally removing her coat as it was beginning to get a bit warm with it on.

Haila Wetyios sighed rather loudly this time, "Less talk and more work! Whoever brought this in could have set it on the front yard and then let everyone inside know you were back you know..."

Rising Lotus was busy carving away, mostly ignoring Riylli's complaints at this point. "You'd think this stuff would smell worse than it would, but it ain't too bad." she pulled a particularly sticky and slimy piece off "Gross feeling though."

Riylli Aliapoh eventually did approach with her own knife in hand, beginning to help carve the spider despite her complaints. "That was Cravs," She decided to chime in still, wanting a bit of revenge for getting ditched with the problem. "Please don't start eating the spider... Even hunters have limits."

Rising Lotus had made a pretty good time with her carving, most of it on her side near or almost near the metal core. " I mean, well this thing ain't natural, but if there was a real big spider you wouldn't try it? It's legs would probably be like crabs legs or somethin'." she pondered a old fashion spider boil "Though I guess if it's poisonous you shouldn't eat it."

Riylli Aliapoh had started later, but she had plenty of experience in carving animals and was making good progress. "Ugh, no... We occasionally kill banemites back home, but not even the elementals getting pissy would convince us to eat 'em." She muttered, trying not to think about it. "I ain't about to eat crabs either. Nothing but water spiders if you ask me."

(Haila Wetyios) getting pretty tired here, I think Imma call it)) (Riylli Aliapoh) (Alrights, goodnight! (Rising Lotus) Okays! We'll leave the spider and piles of flesh outside haila's door)) (Haila Wetyios) thank you guys for the rps! night night)) (Haila Wetyios) that's if they can even squeeze it into the door leading there~))

Rising Lotus "Crabs acre actually somethin' callled crustaceans! Different than spiders somehow, not sure how but that's what some fish scientist told me once." she sheathed her knife and clapped her hands together as her side was done, leaving it much slimmer than before.

(Cravendy Hound) I'm back! )) (Rising Lotus) Welcome back!))

Cravendy Hound returns, clearly inebriated. The appointment that had dragged her away from this problem earlier? Maybe not something she had to go to right away. She stumbles over, raises a bottle over her head, calls out to Riylli and Rising. “Oyyy, not done yet?”

Riylli Aliapoh: "Yeah, well, some scientists think Miqo'te are related to cats, so..." She left it at that, her thoughts on that conclusion likely obvious. She turned around to glare angrily at Cravs as she suddenly appears, and appears drunk at that. "You... This is your mess, get over here and work dammit!" She said, tossing her latest carving of flesh at her

Rising Lotus grumble as Cravs returned, bottle in hand. "Aye! Get you're drunk ass over here and push this thing in now!" following Riylli's example, she found a particularly slimy bit she cut off and lobbed it towards Cravs, grinning devilishly as she did so.

Cravendy Hound laughs as the flesh chunks smack her directly on the chest. “My mess? Was it?” She hiccups, and then takes a seat on the ground. “Yerrrr both doin’ great though. Keep up the good work.”

Riylli Aliapoh: Nope. Nopenopenope. Riylli marches over and snatches the bottle out of the drunken Cravs' hand, taking a swig for herself and refusing to give it back. "Y'know what, it's carved enough. You go push it now, doubt you'll be useful for anything else anyway." She chided angrily, complete with her hands on her hips

Rising Lotus sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and she started to walk away from the carved up spider. "Yeah jus' hurry up and get it in, I need a drink myself after this..." after saying that though her face lit up and she pulled a flask out of her satchel. She popped the cap off and took a swig...of nothing. Damn you past Rising!

Cravendy Hound wobbles back as the bottle is taken from her hands, as stable as a pillar of jello. She doesn’t struggle at all, and instead chooses to lie down on the ground, rolled to her side. “Bloooody bilgerat...yer not me mum.” A string of incoherent half-insults and half-words follow.

Riylli Aliapoh blinks, then nudges Cravs with her foot. "It's been like... not even a bell since you disappeared. How th' hells a giant like you such a lightweight?" She let out a sigh, then took another swig. Maybe Cravs had had the right idea after all. "Alright, whatever, you're up then instead Giant Number Two." She said, motioning to Rising with the bottle

Cravendy Hound: “The secret, my fuzzy funny friend, is drinkin’ lots in a short amount of time.” And whatever is in that bottle is awfully strong. Hic!

Rising Lotus started grumbling again until it loud scoff. "You two are both useless! Both of ya get it stuck and I'm the one that has to do the most work!" she stomped over to the spider, squatting down and easily lifting the heavy machine. There was lots of swearing and grunting, but she managed to get it inside with a mighty shove, clearing the doorway. Panting, she stood in the doorway looking back at the two. "Well at least /I/ can get inside now." with a smirk she slammed the door shut >

Rising Lotus the next sound being the lock clicking closed.

(Cravendy Hound) also I was catching up and sdjfkldsfj Rising asking for a smooth rock killed me )) (Cravendy Hound) YOU LOCKED THE DOOR AAahahah xD ))

Riylli Aliapoh blinked, staring at the now locked door for one long moment before taking another big swig. "You Roegadyn are impossible..." She mutters at Cravs, then marches up to the door. "AND HOW'RE YOU GONNA GET IT THROUGH THE SECOND DOOR, GENIUS!?" Riylli yelled as loud as she could.

(Riylli Aliapoh) (Can you believe these guys helped build a town

Cravendy Hound lets out a hoot as the entrance is -finally- cleared. Alright, time to get off the ground. The bed in her room is far more comfortable than lying on the dirt. She rolls onto her stomach and then heaves up with no small amount of effort. Cravs groans, forcing left foot over right until she’s miraculously next to the door...but why won’t it open?

Rising Lotus would yell back "NOT LIKE YOU'D HELP ANYWAY! HAVE FUN SLEEPING IN THE RAIN!" she stomped up the stairs towards the bar.

Cravendy Hound: “Nnnnnoooooooo, come back. Rising, I’m gonna die out ‘ere.” A gross exaggeration, clearly, but Cravs wails nonetheless.

Riylli Aliapoh: "I DON'T EVEN LIVE HERE YOU IDIOT!" Riylli shouted right back, at this point the pair having probably woken up the neighbors. She lets out a frustrated sigh and plants her head against the door, going quiet for another long moment before finally turning to Cravs. "...So... Do you got a key or somethin'..? You ain't gonna like... Die, if I leave you out here, right?"

(Cravendy Hound) we're capable heroes! ...but not during our off hours ahah )) (Riylli Aliapoh) Front door (Savage)

Cravendy Hound blinks, uncoordinated, but snaps back to attention when Riylli asks her about dying. “SHHH, don’t tell that to Risin’! We want ‘er to open the door!” She whispers loudly.

Rising Lotus after a few minutes footsteps could be heard coming towards the door and it was unlocked, Rising opening it up and still looking quite frustrated. "..Jus' hurry up an' let her get in here so she can lay down.." she had a bottle of her own in her hand by now, and clearly wanted to get back to it once Cravs wasn't passed out on the lawn.

Riylli Aliapoh glares, muttering under her breath as she basically shoves Cravendy in through the doorway. "'Hurry up' huh? Like it's my fault you locked the damned door... I didn't sign up for this shite, I should be hunting monsters right now..."

Cravendy Hound: “..mhn, that’s right...I’m an officer.” Cravs reaches into her pocket, pulls out a key, and attempts to guide it to the keyhole. But what happens is that the door whips open, she gets pushed through, and she ends up jabbing the key at Rising.

Rising Lotus was able to catch the roegadyn as she was shoved in her direction, keeling forward a bit as the key was pushed into her gut. Taking a deep breath in she fixed her gaze at Riylli, staring daggers at her. "Well. She's in here. so then LEAVE." there was a sharpness to her words as the unfortunate Miqo'te became the target to vent all of this sudden frustration on.

(Cravendy Hound) a slowly unfolding disaster )) (Rising Lotus) Right xD? (Riylli Aliapoh) (If only Rising had just used those darn tongs (Rising Lotus) To be fair though, I think we all know how moving couches through doorways can be, this was bound to happen (Cravendy Hound) xD ))

Riylli Aliapoh: "Fine! And when Haila asks why there's a spider carcass in the lobby and guts all over the lawn, you better not leave any details out!" Riylli shot back angrily, tensions definitely running high. "I'm goin' home, good luck with the hangover." She muttered finally, and began to stomp off on her long way home

Cravendy Hound leans her full weight on Rising and wraps an arm around her shoulders. Pressed up against her, she weakly tries to defuse the budding conflict. “Oy oyy, there’s no need for fightin’...” And though it takes a while, she eventually finds her balance again. Seeing Riylli leaving, she calls out to her. "SEE YA..."

(Cravendy Hound) ...space cowboy )) (Cravendy Hound) nothing like bonding over a dangerous battle, only to lose it all over door drama pff )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (The only solution is to bond over drinking next time

Rising Lotus grunted as she was suddenly supporting Cravs, huffing as Riylli started off, the frustration in her face starting to change to regret. With a sigh she pushed it all down, rolling her eyes as Cravs said her good bye. Once she was able to stand on her own, Rising dumped her on the couch and hurried off to her room.

(Rising Lotus) lol, and it was such a successfull mission too xD (Riylli Aliapoh) The end! What a happy ending lol (Cravendy Hound) hehe door rp was so fun + funny tho xD ))

Cravendy Hound faceplants on the couch and quickly falls asleep.

#ff14 rp logs #Cravendy Hound #Riylli Aliapoh #Rising Lotus #Haila Wetyios #sdfds posted stuff out of order BUT #this one was very very good #nothing like unbonding over a monster stuck in a doorframe

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msf-diamond-dog · 3 years

Note

I SAID ANSWER ALL THE MF QUESTIONS BEECH DONT MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

Okie dokii

1. What’s one animal you wish you could have as a pet but can’t?

jellyfish

2. Favorite thing to wear to sleep?

Usually just shorts and a tshirt

3. What song really gets you going?

Right now, Lights Out by 3Teeth

4. Where do you usually eat your meals?

In my bedroom

5. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

I dont eat breakfast or lunch so

6. Most embarrassing habit?

Bein an asshole

7. Chocolate or fruity candy?

Fruity

8. Soft or hard tacos?

Depends on the taco, man.

9. Worst way to break up a fight?

/ryan stiles voice/ you guys wanna stop a fight

10. Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers?

I aint talk to people

11. What color/design are your bedsheets?

Just gray flannel

12. Any hidden talents?

I aint even got any obvious ones,

13. Favorite thing to drink out of (mug, glass, etc.)?

I love a good pint glass.

14. Socks or bare feet around the house?

Barefeet

15. Favorite board game?

Candyland bitches

16. Do you sleep with the fan on or off?

Always on

17. Heat on or keep it cold with lots of layers?

Cold with lots of layers.

18. Do you sing in the shower?

Always

19. Favorite song to belt out at the top of your lungs when you’re alone?

Grave by Hellyeah

20. Last thing you cried about?

Anxiety attack a couple weeks ago

21. At what age did you first have alcohol?

21, didnt have any before then

22. Relationship status?

Single but into someone

23. What’s the most amount of money you’ve spent on a single item of clothing?

I dont spend a ton on clothes but I think I payed like 60 dollars for a band shirt once

24. What do you typically wear to formal events?

Nicer clothes than usual?

25. Favorite memory?

Just bein a chill happy kid honestly,

26. Gum or breath mints?

Gum

27. Favorite shoes?

Mah boots.

28. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

This whole how I look situation.

29. What is the natural state of your hair?

I gots a shaved head

30. Have you ever had braces?

No, wish I did though, I hate my smile

31. Most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?

Overdose.

32. Most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing?

I dont know really. I think I embarrass my parents more than the other way around

33. Last time you had an orgasm?

A couple nights ago

34. Celebrity crush(es)?

Legit dont have any. I have no connection with any of them so

35. Windows or Mac?

Windows

36. How old were you when you learned to ride a bike?

Uhhh 7. Our neighbor taught me.

37. Makeup or natural?

Both. Both is good.

38. What color do you wear the most?

Black!

39. Favorite season?

Winter all the way

40. Umbrella or rain coat?

I live in the desert and it hasnt rained in like 6 months so neither. Whenever it rains I just stand outside.

41. Have you ever fallen out of a tree?

Prolly happened as a kid but I dont remember. We had a tree we all used to love climbing at the house I was a youngin at.

42. First car you ever owned?

Same car I have now, my 91 Nissian Pickup.

43. What time do you usually go to bed?

Anywhere from 12 to 2 am.

44. Are you a competitive person?

Not really no.

45. Least favorite color?

Yellow

46. First pet you’ve ever owned?

A fishy

47. Sweet or salty?

Why not both

48. Favorite pasta dish?

Anything with basil and olive oil 👌

49. Favorite kind of chips?

Nitro Takis are the shit

50. Talk about something you’re passionate about.

Music. Nuff said.

51. What are some of your hobbies?

Music, video games, gunpla, legos, anything that kinda creative really

52. Caffeine? If so, what kind?

Monsters

53. Favorite kind of pizza?

Extra pepperoni with anchovies 👌

54. Fast food or sit-down restaurant?

Fast food. I dont like eating around people

55. Lots of acquaintances or a handful of close friends?

Close friends.

56. Something that ruins your appetite?

Being in a bad mood

57. Favorite labels about you?

58. Are you a religious person?

Not anymore. I grew up that way but organized religion always pisses me off. Im much more spiritual

59. Night out with a bunch of friends in public or night in with one friend having deep conversations?

One friend

60. What size shoe do you wear?

11 1/2

61. Favorite thing about yourself?

The fact most people cant read my sarcasm

62. Have you ever told someone you loved them first?

I dont think anyone has ever told me first

63. Have you ever had sex on the first date?

Kinda sorta?

64. Heroes or villains?

Maximals all the way.

65. Favorite fruit?

Prolly mangos or strawberries

66. Least favorite fruit?

Unripe melon.

67. Favorite vegetable?

Potates

68. Least favorite vegetable?

I like all the ones ive had Im not picky but the lowest prolly be carrots?

69. How many plates can you eat at a buffet?

Usually 2 or 3

70. Favorite dessert?

Whiskey

71. Do you play any sports?

No, never been my thing

72. Age you learned how to swim?

7 or 8 I think.

73. Tell a funny story.

My boss keep salt lamps in every room of his house "just in case" of rfid waves (???) but refuses to wear a mask when he goes out cause "theres no proof it does anything".

74. What’s one interesting thing about your culture?

How much closer the brown side of my family is compared to the white side

75. What’s one annoying thing about your culture?

All the gossip, man.

76. What job would you be terrible at?

Math teacher.

77. Would you rather watch a TV show or a movie?

TV shows

78. What’s your favorite compliment to give?

Anything that makes someones day a little better!

79. What’s your favorite compliment to receive?

I do not like receiving compliments i always feel awkward

80. Has your opinion changed on something recently?

Not that I can think of off the top of my head

81. Do you always order the same thing at a restaurant or order something different each time?

Usually the same thing

82. What’s something you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t yet?

drug

83. If you could learn to do anything right now, what would it be?

Record

84. Favorite physical feature about yourself?

85. Least favorite physical feature about yourself?

The whole the things

86. What’s one amazing thing you did that nobody was around to see?

Survived 👈👈😎

87. If you could change your height, would you?

Maybe, I feel pretty short

88. What’s something you would rate 10/10?

Holding hands

89. Heels or flats?

Why not platform boots

90. What’s something you wish you had more knowledge about?

Music

91. Would you want to be famous?

92. What’s something you would get arrested for?

Prolly trespassing

93. What’s your spirit animal?

Water bears 🤔

94. What’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you?

Won tickets and got to meet Jonathan Davis so that was pretty cool

95. Are you the type to have an organized mess, or no mess at all?

Organized mess

96. Do you tend to make decisions based on the past, present, or future?

All of the above if able

97. Are you a planner or a more spontaneous person?

Planner

98. Thoughts on the oxford comma?

Important

99. What do you hope never changes?

How close the sun is to the earth

100. How would you celebrate your 100th birthday?

I aint ever wanna be that old.

Thank you Audi!!

6 notes · View notes

ddaenggtan · 4 years

Text

monachopsis | knj x ksj

seokjin knows - has known, for years - that his life will be like this forever. there is no more sea, there is no more swimming, there is no more of anything he used to know. this is life - wake up, go to a shoot, try not to piss giho off, go home, sleep, wake up again. because he was caught. because giho owns him. because he can't.

but then he meets namjoon. and seokjin starts to realize that maybe...just maybe. he can.

pairing | namjin

rating | sfw (some swearing & violence, so T for teen)

wc | 5.7k | cross-posted to ao3

warnings | mild violence, allusions to violence and physical abuse, a very brief depiction of said abuse, non-sexual choking, non-sexual slavery in a way, selkie!jin, aquarium worker!joon, marine biologist!joon, model!jin

a/n | hi this is for fwl’s Luv Library project, for the Fantasy & Fairytales section, and its also the first mxm i’ve ever posted so it might be a Little Rough but i am very attached to these characters and also i Love Selkies SO you get selkie jin!!! special super shoutout to @personawife for reading through it and also giving me the title!!!! im luv u!!! i hope u like the surprise ending that you didn’t get to read bc it was a surprise!!!!!!! ALSO added shoutout to user @jamaisjoons for the SUPERB banner she made!!!!!!!! im in love!!!!!!!!!! sol i do not deserve u!!!!!!!!!!

He misses the sea, sometimes.

He misses the refracting light and the weightlessness and the bubbles. He aches for the days he could swim, for miles and miles and miles, without getting tired. He misses the way his hair would move in the water, the way it felt to lay in the sun to dry off, the warmth that came with it all.

Seokjin wraps his sweater more tightly around his torso and forces the thoughts away. Remembering gets him nowhere, he scolds himself. This is his life, now and forever, and he’s got to accept that if he wants to survive long enough to see the sea once more. He can do this. He’s strong enough for this.

The chill of the winter air is strong, too; it seeps into his bones and roots in them, lingering long after he’s made his way inside the studio. Giho is already there, berating some poor girl for her outfit choice. When he sees Seokjin he stops, waving at the intern. She runs out without even looking up.

“You’re late,” Giho says with a sneer. They both glance at the clock on the wall. 11:55.

“You said noon,” Seokjin responds. His tone is neutral, a carefully constructed skill that has saved his life many times over the years.

Giho tsks, likely because he can’t outright smack Seokjin with so many people around. Still, Seokjin can feel the old man’s eyes on him as he strips out of his clothes.

The cold is prominent against his naked skin, and it doesn’t ebb as he slides the new clothes on. Giho is already yelling again, at the stylist this time, and it’s a familiar background noise. It’s still going on when he gets on the set, face in the perfect mask that everyone seems to love.

The photographer barely needs to direct him; he and Taehyung have worked together for months now, and it only gets easier. Tae knows his best angles, his best lighting, how to highlight the cold expression he wears in shoots so the audience can interpret it their own way.

Seokjin doesn’t know where Giho found this kid, but Tae is lucky the old bastard can’t keep him.

“To the left,” Tae mutters, and Seokjin does so without a word.

The hours pass quickly. Between outfit changes and makeup retouches and actually shooting, the day flies. Before he even knows it, the clock is striking ten, and everyone is packing up.

Jin changes quickly back into his sweater, the ever-colder air chilling him once more. Giho is off to the side with Taehyung and the Artistic Director, Hoseok, all three of them conversing quietly as they look at the photos from today. There’s no need for Seokjin to look; he knows how he did because Giho’s hands are kept to themselves.

Checking again that they’re all suitably distracted, Seokjin turns to leave. He promptly stops, because he runs almost directly into someone coming through the door. Hands dart up to catch him, big and strong and warm as they wrap around his elbows for a second longer than they should, and there’s a muttered “Sorry,” from the guy in front of him.

“Careful, hyung,” Taehyung’s voice calls. “Don’t damage the moneymaker.”

Seokjin’s eyes meet the man’s - a warm brown, one that reminds him of chocolate and muddy snow and love - before he physically pulls himself away. He doesn’t have to look at Giho to know what he’s thinking, what his paranoia is telling him about, and Seokjin needs to be able to eat tonight.

“It’s fine,” Seokjin says in the same unaffected voice he always uses around sets. “Barely touched me.”

The man frowns - probably because Seokjin is lying - but he lets it go, and Seokjin is thankful for it. Small mercies.

“Jin,” Giho calls. He stops and turns. “Eleven, tomorrow.” He nods and leaves, ignoring the exhaustion in his bones and the familiar sorrow that fills his chest as he passes the all-too-familiar trunk by the door.

In the studio he leaves behind, Namjoon shares a look with his brother, who very minutely shakes his head. Namjoon knows that look, created that look to warn Tae off the ones that were more trouble that he could handle. Namjoon always wondered why his little brother never listened to that look.

As he and Taehyung head to dinner, passing billboard after poster after billboard with Jin’s face on it, Namjoon thinks he might understand.

The guy shows up more often. Seokjin knows his name, has said it a thousand times in his head over the weeks, but he won’t let himself acknowledge it. He can feel the guy’s stares on him, every time he arrives to get Tae at the same time Seokjin is running out the door after a shoot. He feels the interest, he’s intimately familiar with how it feels to have someone’s eyes running up and down his body, and he knows exactly what kind of danger that puts the both of them in.

Giho sees it too, he’s sure. That’s the most dangerous part of it, the thing that could be the end of them both. He hasn’t said anything - yet - but Jin is positive as he switches poses for Taehyung that Giho can tell.

He can tell that Namjoon - the guy , Jin corrects himself - is showing up earlier and earlier, more and more often, often hanging out beside the photo monitor and talking to Hoseok while he waits. That his eyes linger, long after the model is gone, and that they wonder, about everything. That he’s interested .

Seokjin doesn’t like to remember what happened to the last man that was interested in him.

It’s pouring rain. There’s a fog over the city that clouds vision and hushes conversation. There’s damp in the air, a wetness that seeps into each breath and covers the earth in its scent. It’s like a blanket over everything, making it all grey and dark and quiet, and Seokjin lives for it.

It reminds him of the sea. How it would churn and darken and crash before a storm. The way the salt spray would hit the ice, the smell of the lightning in the air, the way he could just let it carry him wherever it wanted him to go.

He stands outside the studio. Giho left hours before, for some important networking dinner. He’d tried to drag Seokjin along with him, until Taehyung offhandedly mentioned needing to reshoot a couple things. Giho had sneered and stormed out and that was that.

Now he stands outside, in the rain, with his back against the building. The trunk is just on the other side of the wall; it lingers in the back of his mind, taunting. He can feel it. He knows it’s there.

It’s a testament to how thorough Giho is in his punishments that Seokjin doesn’t attempt to claw it open and instead just tips his head back, eyes closed, basking in the water soaking his sweater and the pull he can feel in his stomach.

He should be swimming.

“Do you need a ride?”

Seokjin doesn’t even open his eyes; he knows the voice. Has spent too long hearing it murmur on the sidelines of photoshoots, has watched its owner as his lips form words he isn’t supposed to listen to.

He should ignore it. That’s what Giho would warn him to do.

“Jin?”

He flutters his lids open, casting a glance at where Namjoon and Taehyung stand. Taehyung has his camera out, and Seokjin has no doubt he’s already snapped a few photos of their surroundings out of habit.

“I’m fine,” he says softly. His voice is slightly hoarse from disuse, but Namjoon doesn’t even flinch. Taehyung is fiddling with his camera, oblivious to the way Namjoon’s eyes search Seokjin’s face for the lie he won’t find.

The rain is the only solace that Seokjin gets; he cherishes these nights. He won’t cut it short, especially not for a human.

“I’m fine,” He repeats. Against his better judgement, he continues, “I enjoy the rain. It’s refreshing.”

“Refreshing…” Namjoon echoes quietly. Neither of them speak, for a long moment; Namjoon continues to look for any sign that Seokjin is lying, and Seokjin continues to pretend the streaks on his cheeks are from the raindrops.

“Walk Jin home.”

They both turn at that, to where Taehyung has his camera pressed to his eye as he frames some shots. When he’s finished, and there’s been no response, Taehyung looks at them both.

“It’s bad weather,” Taehyung explains, “On a dark night. It’d be rude of us to let you walk home alone when anything could be lurking in the shadows.”

Namjoon looks at Seokjin, practically begging for him to agree. He should say no. He should walk himself the ten blocks to his apartment, and pretend neither of them ever said anything, and continue on with his life. Giho would go berserk if he ever found out, would never allow it, would do everything he could to prevent it.

“Sure,” Seokjin says. He’s tired of doing what Giho wants. He’s tired of being without the sea, being kept landlocked with just the rain to remind him of home. “It’s this way.”

Namjoon and Taehyung share a look, but Seokjin pays it no mind as he heads down the street.

The rain is coming down in sheets, and his clothes are soaked. They rest heavy against his skin, and it just makes Seokjin miss the ocean more. He misses how it felt to be weightless, constantly; to feel so powerful and strong and capable. He never feels that way on land.

“How long have you been a model?” Namjoon eventually asks. For a moment - a split second - Seokjin considers ignoring him. It’s what Giho would demand he do.

“Too long,” He says instead.

“You don’t enjoy it?” Namjoon asks, surprised. Seokjin shakes his head, just slightly.

“I do, it’s just…” He searches for the words. He can’t tell anyone about it, has no one to talk to, no one that would believe him. He’s never even felt the urge to share it. Until now. “It’s not what I would have picked for myself.”

Namjoon is silent beside him, and Seokjin can feel the question on the tip of his tongue. He’s going to ask why he does it, why he would bother being a model if it isn’t what he wants to do, and then Seokjin will be forced to come up with an excuse.

“What would you have picked?” Namjoon asks instead.

It brings all of the thoughts in his head to a standstill; all the worry and anxiety and stress stops, distracted by the thought that he had wanted, once upon a time. It takes a long time for Seokjin to find words, to find something that could translate into human language.

“To swim,” He says simply. “To be in the ocean, or with my family. Something.”

“You aren’t with your family?”

“No.” He debates how much to say, but eventually, Seokjin decides, fuck it . He’s been quiet for long enough, and something about Namjoon is comforting, and soothing, and encouraging. “I lost them, when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon says, and Seokjin thinks he actually means it, even if he doesn’t know the real truth of the matter. How Seokjin strayed too far from them, despite the warnings he’d been given his entire life. How he wanted to stretch human legs and snuck away and got caught by someone that recognized the coat drying on a rock and what he was.

How Giho locked it away, for years, and forced Seokjin to be his ticket to wealth.

“So am I.”

It becomes an irregularly regular thing, Namjoon walking him home.

He can’t do it every night. They’re both too aware of the way Giho watches them, though for different reasons. Namjoon doesn’t know what Giho has done to others in his position, the lengths he’s gone to ensure Seokjin stays his.

But the nights when he can, when Giho leaves for some dinner or event or something and Taehyung can come up with a believable excuse...those are the nights that Seokjin starts looking forward to.

He learns so much about Namjoon - that he studied marine biology in school, got his doctorate in it as soon as he could; that he visits his parents’ grave every Wednesday morning, leaves flowers for them when he has the money; that he wants to travel the world and help endangered species everywhere, wants to take Taehyung with him as a nature photographer; that he’s the best man Seokjin has ever known with the biggest heart and the most patience that he’s ever seen.

Namjoon doesn’t question why Seokjin only ever gives vague answers, or skirts around mentions of where he comes from, or why he doesn’t have a phone. He doesn’t ask Seokjin to let him up into the apartment, or answer his questions, or explain why he stays at arm’s length despite leaning closer because Namjoon is warm.

He doesn’t question any of it, and it makes Seokjin’s heart flutter dangerously in his chest, and it means that when Namjoon asks if he has a free day anytime soon, Seokjin only hesitates for a second before he responds.

“Giho has a business trip coming up,” he tells Namjoon. “As long as we have three full shoots, he won’t suspect anything.”

“Will you come with me?” Namjoon asks. “I just want to distract you for the day. I’ve seen your life, what you do, so much. I’d like to show you mine, if you’ll let me.”

He should say no. He shouldn’t go with him, he should say no, and stop letting Namjoon walk him home, and let Giho move them across the country again.

“Sure.”

The day comes. Seokjin dresses nicer, though he’ll never admit it. A nice button-down, black slacks, hair styled, sunglasses to combat the glare in the sky. Giho is gone for three days - three marvelous, liberated days - and Seokjin can use that time to come up with a believable excuse if he’s recognized.

Namjoon looks like he always does - warmth and welcome and strength. It settles in Seokjin’s chest the second he sees Namjoon, and he wonders if this is what people meant when they say they found home in someone.

He doesn’t ask Namjoon where they’re going; just follows him onto the subway, and off, and on, and off again, listening to him talk about this cafe and that bookstore and the busker on the corner. He gets the full experience of Namjoon’s commute, and he couldn’t be more in love with him.

With it. He’s in love with it , the commute, seeing what other people do each day. That’s all, because that’s all he can let himself have.

When they arrive, Seokjin stares. He doesn’t know why he didn’t know, why he didn’t put the pieces together from all the times Namjoon has mentioned his work and his degree, but he didn’t...he didn’t think , didn’t even consider, and now he stands on the sidewalk, staring at the large building, and Namjoon is waiting for him.

“Seokjin?” He asks softly. “We can turn around right now.”

He looks at Namjoon - really looks at him. Takes in the nice turquoise shirt and the cuffed slacks and the dress shoes, the glasses that are so thick Seokjin wonders how he sees without them at all, the way there’s already disappointment clouding the acceptance in his eyes.

“No,” He says. “No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

He shouldn’t be here, his mind tells him throughout each exhibit. Not just because of Giho this time, but for himself.

Namjoon is so excited about each exhibit, telling him about each creature as they go through. He mentions how each one has its own name, though they get confused sometimes for the larger populations. How so many have been released into the wild successfully, how so many have been rebuilt and are on the brink of non-endangered status.

He talks about the sharks, and how Louise and Wheein haven’t been getting along, but that Yari and Chainsaw are expecting a pup soon; he talks about the penguins and how Potato keeps stealing extra fish but he does it to give to Frenchie, so they let him get away with it; he talks about the jellyfish, and the rays, and the octopuses, and everyone and everything, and it’s nearly too much for Seokjin, but he manages.

He gets through nearly the entire aquarium, exhausted but content with the happy grin on Namjoon’s face, but he stops, because Namjoon has mentioned Maple throughout the entire trip, has talked about her before. Seokjin knows Maple’s history better than his own, almost, but he never realized…

Now he does. He watches as Maple dives back down off the landing, flipping and turning in the water. They stand in a viewing area, a room long and tall and tinted blue with the water at the bottom of the tank. It gives way to land halfway up, is more than generous for the lone animal that dances through the water.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Namjoon asks. “She’s the one we’re working hardest with. Hawaiian monk seals are critically endangered, so when she was brought in as a pup, she took first priority. We’re doing everything we can to get her back up to breeding standards. She keeps getting sick, though, and no pregnancy has been viable so far.”

Seokjin doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even blink. He doesn’t know this seal, not really; she’s just a seal, she’s not like him, she’s not even the same species, but a human wouldn’t know that. Especially not a human like Namjoon, completely out of the loop on all of it.

“She wants to be free.”

He can see it when Namjoon turns to look at him, confused. Watches the reflection in the glass as closely as he watches Maple’s mourning dance.

“Her environment is larger than most,” Namjoon says. “She’s got plenty of room to swim and we’ve got activity sets throughout so she’s mentally stimulated as well. She eats, probably more than she should, and-”

“A cage is still a cage, no matter how pretty it is.” Seokjin can see it, can hear Maple’s call, can feel it in his very soul as the urge to respond grows. She spots them standing there and swims closer, and Seokjin places a hand on the glass wall. “She wants to be back in the ocean.”

“It’s dangerous for her there,” Namjoon says quietly. He says it like he knows, like he’s always known, what she needs, but doesn’t want to admit it. “There isn’t enough food, humanity keeps taking their territory...she’s sick. She wouldn’t survive out there.”

Better to die free than spend eternity in a cage, Seokjin thinks bitterly. He takes a breath and reminds himself that Namjoon cares. He’s helping, in the only way that he knows how.

Maple spins when she spots Namjoon, clearly excited, but when her eyes land on Seokjin, she stills.

“Ah, she’s not always friendly to strangers, so…” Namjoon trails off. His reflection shows his jaw slack, open in a surprised o , because he’s wrong, this time.

Maple lets out a whistle - long, and low, and haunting in the stillness of the building. Her nose is nearly against the glass, she’s so close, and she looks straight into him. She sees him, recognizes him for what he is, and uses the call.

Seokjin can feel the snap as his soul breaks; what little was left of him shatters, into pieces. He can’t return her call, he can’t tell her that he sees, that he knows what she’s feeling and will do what he can to help her, because he can’t . He can’t help her, he has no way to save her from her cage because he’s stuck in his own.

She must see it, somehow, because her song trails off, and Seokjin hates himself. He hates himself for being here, for allowing himself to get close to Namjoon when he can’t, for not being able to even hear her song the way it deserves to be heard.

“Hey,” Namjoon calls, soft and quiet. His thumb brushes hesitantly along Seokjin’s cheek, carrying a tear with it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“I’m fine,” Seokjin tells him. “I’ve got to be up early tomorrow, to do the shoots, so I’m gonna head home.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

He turns on his heel and walks out, ignoring Namjoon’s question entirely. He can’t lie right now, he does want Namjoon with him, but he can’t. It’s too dangerous, and seeing Maple just reminded him of it.

He can’t let Namjoon get hurt just because he makes Seokjin feel marginally better.

In his wake, Namjoon sighs. He turns to Maple, wishing he was up top in his wetsuit so he could run his fingers through her fur the way she likes. Her eyes are big and sad, more so than usual, and Namjoon thinks maybe he understands her for the first time.

“I’ll try,” He tells her. “I’ll try.”

Weeks pass. Months fly by. Shoot after shoot after shoot gets published, and Giho rakes in the cash from them. Seokjin stays in his small apartment, watching the light reflect rainbows through the window pane. He stopped letting Namjoon walk him home when Giho got back, and nearly ripped part of Seokjin’s hair out with fury that he’d gone out.

The only reason it wasn’t worse is because Seokjin managed to convince him that it was promo for the upcoming swimwear collection, and good press about the humanitarian efforts of the label.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Namjoon stopped showing up after a few days. Seokjin refuses to ask Taehyung why, because he shouldn’t care. He can’t care. Not with Giho hovering over his shoulder at every turn.

One day, for some reason, things change. Giho gets less certain, more fidgety. Starts looking over his own shoulder. Stops threatening Seokjin with every glance.

Stops glancing altogether.

It just makes Seokjin worry more; if the one in charge is afraid of something, everyone else should be as well. That was the first lesson his mother taught him.

Seokjin gathers his things. Packs them all back into his suitcase, keeps a single change of clothes out and starts washing them every day. Giho looks ready to run, and Seokjin knows by now that he needs to be ready when it happens if he wants to keep any of his things.

Then Giho disappears.

Giho disappears for a while .

He doesn’t take Seokjin with him. He just disappears one night, when everything is quiet and still. The calendar is still booked with shoots, so Seokjin just keeps working. One night, he and Taehyung go out for Korean BBQ. The entire week after that, Seokjin expects Giho to pop up and berate him for doing anything that isn’t working, but it never comes.

A few weeks later, they go on a day trip to a mountain and walk the trails together while Taehyung takes pictures. Neither of them mention Giho or Namjoon or anything except the way the leaves fall.

Life goes on. For months, Seokjin begins tiptoeing across the line. He goes out more often. The time between shoots gets longer and longer, and Seokjin begins to enjoy things. He goes to see movies, and shopping, and eating, and travelling. He starts doing the things he wants to do.

He sees Namjoon again.

They get dinner together, whenever they’re both free. It starts with Taehyung inviting him for drinks, and turns into them meeting each other at the cafe on the corner that makes the good boba. They talk for what could be hours, or what could be minutes. Seokjin never knows, because everything else seems to stop when he’s with Namjoon.

He says as much as he can, as much as he dares, but it never seems like it’s enough. Namjoon takes what Seokjin gives him, more than happy to be included again, but they both know that there’s a time limit on it. Still, Seokjin fools himself into thinking that it’s become an if , instead of being a when .

He fools himself into thinking that this can be his life.

It takes almost four months. It’s been nearly a year since Seokjin first met Namjoon - he refuses to acknowledge that he remembers the day. Giho returns in a whirlwind.

He interrupts the shoot, throws the clothes around, breaks some mannequins, it’s all out war on the set, and they all watch silently. The only thing that keeps him from breaking Taehyung’s camera is the look on the younger’s face when Giho goes for it.

But of course, nothing lasts forever. He spots Seokjin, sitting as still as a statue in the makeup chair, and that’s the beginning of the end. He recognizes the feral rage in God's eyes, has seen it barely contained too many times before, and he’s clearly not holding back this time.

He has Seokjin on the ground, under his shoe, with a cane against his throat when the door opens. The others have tried to help, but Giho is surprisingly adept with a cane when he wants to be, and as such, no one has gotten close. But Seokjin can guess what time it is, he knows in his bones who just walked in, and he refuses to let this happen.

“You,” Giho hisses. The pressure on Seokjin’s throat disappears as Giho stands; the model coughs, several times, choking down air even as his hand darts out to wrap around his owner’s ankle.

The elder crumples to the ground, kicking at Seokjin’s steel grip, but it’s useless, because Seokjin is tired.

He is tired of being afraid of a bitter old man. He is tired of being without the sea. He is tired of not allowing himself to be happy.

He’s on top of Giho before he even realizes he’s moved, prying the cane from his hands and holding it steady over Giho’s windpipe. He doesn’t press down, not yet; just holds it there, like the threat it is.

“You will not hurt him,” Seokjin commands. “And you will run, as far as you can get. You will run to the ends of the earth, and then, God willing, you will run further. You will leave your wealth and your fame and everything I have made for you, and if you dare to show your face among humanity again…”

“What?” Giho spits, a smirk growing on his face. “What is a defenseless little pup like you going to do?”

Seokjin leans down, letting the cane choke the man below him as he drops his voice. “I will find my brethren, and I will tell them what you have done. They will spread your story far and wide, across every ocean, over every continent, and when they find you, they will remind you why we are considered predators.”

He sits back, letting the cane go and allowing air back into his lungs. He stands on his own two feet, the legs that have carried him for so long, and he looks around.

“This shoot is over,” Seokjin says. “Everyone get out.”

The people scramble, even Taehyung gathers his things to leave, and the room is empty in seconds. Only he and Giho remain.

The elder lies on the floor, still catching his breath, as Seokjin tosses the cane across the room. He looks around, spots an old iron trash can from a shoot last month, and starts toward it.

“It won’t do you any good,” Giho says. Seokjin ignores him and hefts the can up, carrying it across the room. “You won’t get anywhere. You can’t just disappear, not when the world knows your face.”

“Maybe so,” Seokjin says as he positions himself. “But at least I’ll have the choice.”

He brings the iron can down with all his strength. There’s a colossal crash as it connects with the old padlock, and it only gets louder with the next one. It takes seven hits for the lock to break, and the sound of it clattering to the floor isn’t one he’s likely to forget.

When he opens the trunk, however, it’s empty.

“I told you,” Giho hisses triumphantly. “It won’t do any good.”

Seokjin resists the urge to curse under his breath and forces himself not to sob as he looks back at Giho.

“Then it won’t do you any good either.”

The sand is warm beneath his feet. The setting sun paints the sky a myriad of colors, orange turning into red bleeding into purple shifting into blue curling into black, all of it reflected in the cool water below. The tang of salt wafts in with every breath he takes, and just confirms that this is right.

“Thanks for meeting me,” Namjoon says from behind him. Seokjin didn’t hear him approach, but he didn’t need to. He knows Namjoon won’t hurt him.

“Thanks for calling,” Seokjin responds. He feels the tide tickle his toes, and he knows that this is best. “I actually wanted to tell you something.”

“I think I should go first,” Namjoon’s voice is firm, but hesitant. Like he doesn’t want to say what he’s saying. Seokjin turns, frowning slightly when he sees the other. Namjoon looks troubled, looks like he would rather be anywhere else, and that doesn’t bode well for Seokjin.

Still, he gestures for Namjoon to continue.

“Tae pointed it out,” Namjoon eventually says. “He mentioned how you looked at it, and thought maybe...maybe it had passports or something inside, something you could use to get away. So when he left, and we thought he might not come back...I opened it.”

A weight settles in Seokjin’s throat.

“Opened what?”

“The trunk,” Namjoon says. “I broke in and I picked the lock and...I didn’t know it was...I didn’t think he had it….” He sighs and pulls his hands from behind his back, and there it is.

Seokjin’s coat.

It’s silky and smooth and soft and perfect and exactly as he remembers it. It’s bigger now, grown with him, and the sight of it in the light is enough to bring tears to his eyes.

“He had some kind of alert on the trunk,” Namjoon continues, “So when I opened it he knew. That’s why he came back. I didn’t know he would come back.”

“Namjoon…” Seokjin looks at him, eyes wide and tear-filled, and for the first time since they met, Seokjin is scared. His life is here, right in front of him, but he doesn’t know if he can have it.

Because now Namjoon knows. He knows what Seokjin is, he’s fully aware that Seokjin can’t leave without the coat in Namjoon’s hands. He could keep him forever, just as Giho intended to do.

“I didn’t know,” Namjoon says again. “Or I wouldn’t have taken you to the aquarium. I wouldn’t have done that to you, I wouldn’t have hurt you like that, and I am... so sorry, Seokjin. I’m so sorry that I did that to you, I-”

“Namjoon, you didn’t know-”

“But now I do.” Namjoon sniffles slightly, and his hands shake, but he extends them, holding the coat out to Seokjin. “And I’m sorry.”

Seokjin’s fingers curl in the fur, almost reverently, as he takes it. It’s still warm, and it feels like water in his hands, and it’s everything he’s missed in his life.

“Namjoon, I…” He trails off, because there’s nothing he could say. No words fit this gift, this release; there’s nothing he could say that would properly convey the emotions building in Seokjin’s chest.

“I know,” Namjoon says. “You’re not in a cage anymore. You’re free to go and do what you want to do.”

Seokjin strips his sweater off and wraps his sealskin around his shoulders. It’s the perfect size for him, exactly what he needs, and when he crashes waist-deep into the surf, it keeps him warm.

He turns, though. Namjoon stands on the shore, just out of reach of the tide, and watches him. There’s a smile on his face, small and sad, and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it from his lips, but he can’t.

Because he’s free.

He turns, wrapping the skin tighter around his shoulder. When he gets under the water, he can feel it in his hair and he can feel the water against his tail and he’s almost home.

But something is missing.

There’s warmth and weightlessness and the setting sun painting the water a rainbow , but the buzz in Seokjin’s chest isn’t full. There’s something not right, something not quite perfect about this moment that he’s been dreaming of for years, and he can’t figure out what.

Namjoon stares at the horizon, wondering how far Seokjin has already gone. He sends up a small wish, a hope, that Seokjin can live his life, free and happy and himself. That he can find his family, see his pod again.

His heartbeat turns painful, something constricting his chest and making it difficult to breathe, so he turns away. The crash of the waves covers the sound of his shaky breath, because of course, of course , he would find love in a man that couldn’t stay.

Fingers tangle in his own and Namjoon turns, shocked, to see a wet Seokjin, hair damp with his sealskin around his waist.

“W-What-”

“I can’t,” Seokjin says softly. “I can’t go back, I can’t find them, I don’t know how to do that without…”

He trails off and Namjoon stares because this is it, he thinks. This is everything he’s been waiting for his entire life, here, right in front of him. He just has to let himself have it.

Seokjin’s hand pulls away from his and Namjoon mourns the loss for the brief moment it takes for the selkie to pull his sealskin off and place it carefully in Namjoon’s arms.

“Namjoon,” He says, voice hushed and serious, “I want you to...because I…”

He’s never Seokjin this unsure, this at a loss, and the way he keeps starting sentences that have no end is undeniably endearing. But he can feel Seokjin’s growing frustration at his inability to articulate his thoughts, so he just smiles.

“I know,” Namjoon says. He takes the coat and places it back in Seokjin’s hands, covering them with his own. The heat from their skin combines and warms Namjoon straight to the core. “And I love you too.”

#ficswithluv #fwl project #luv library #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #namjin fanfic #namjin fluff #namjin angst #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #jin fanfic #jin fluff #jin angst #rm fanfic #seokjin fanfic #mxm bts fanfic #ddaenggtan

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duker42 · 4 years

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(1) Hi! Im not sure if you are taking request or not but if you are can you do a levi x reader where the reader and him dated when they were living in the underground and he promised hed come back for her before going up to kill Erwin but obviously never did because he couldnt so he tried to forget about her and she (reader) ended up leaving the underground and eventually joined the scouts but he doesnt recognize her because shes changed a lot since they were kids/teenagers and she recognizes

💜Old Lovers💜

Y/N blinked as she looked at the Captain as he stood on the stage and looked over the newest recruits to the Survey Corps. Her breath caught as his eyes passed over her briefly before moving on to glare at the others that remained standing the in courtyard. Levi....

~~~~~

“Levi, I don’t trust this Lobov, don’t agree to it!” Y/N pleaded as she watched him inspect his ODM gear.

He looked over and raised an eyebrow at her protest. He had thought she would have jumped at the idea of living on the surface. Her face was worried as twisted her hands out of nervousness. The candlelight shone on her brassy red hair.

He put his triggers handles down and walked over to her, setting his arms around her lightly and pulling her against him. ”Everything’s going to be fine Y/N. As soon as I finish the job, I’m coming back for you.” He promised, a small smirk on his face as he looked down at his lover.

“Really?” Y/N looked up at his grey eyes which were quickly darkening as he leaned forward.

“Of course, I want you beside me on the surface. But before I go, why don’t you send me off properly?” He asked, cocking his eyebrow at her and flashing a wicked grin as he covered her mouth with his own.

~~~~~

She wondered if he didn’t recognize her because of her hair. He had only known her with the red dye she had soaked her hair in, hiding the true white blonde hair that would have attracted too much attention in the Underground.

She was upset that he was standing there, looking exactly like he had the day he left her in his bed. The day he had disappeared out of her life for the past four years. He had forgotten her and moved on.

Her eyes lowered as Commander Erwin continued to speak to the recruits that had chosen to join the Survey Corps, talked to her.

~~~~~

Levi scowled as he looked over the pitiful few recruits that had found the balls to join the Scouts.

He eyes paused on the tiny blonde, before moving on. His thoughts immediately went to Y/N and it pissed him off.

He shoved down the guilt that rose up in his chest. After everything had gone to hell and Farlan and Isabel had been killed, he had given in and pledged his life to the Scouts. Decided to follow Erwin.

He had tried to convince them to let him go back. To bring Y/N up to the surface with him. But Commander Shadis had thought that his newest weapon would just disappear into the shadows of the Underground and he hadn’t been able to convince him that it wouldn’t happen. He just wanted her with him.

When he realized it wasn’t going to happen, he buried his heart under layers of ice and tried to forget the woman he still dreamed about. The one that he still woke up and expected to see beside him, four years later.

The fact that a brat reminded him of her could be nothing but trouble. He growled and turned away, ready to return to base and the solitude of his office.

~~~~~

Commander Erwin called Y/N into his office, making her very nervous to have a face to face with her highest superior her first day in the Scouts.

“You’re Y/N, correct?” Erwin asked, looking through her file as he motioned for her lower her salute.

“Yes, sir.” She answered, looking closely at the tall man that Levi was supposed to kill four years ago, sitting there very much alive.

“And you are from the Underground?” He sounded bored and Y/N wondered if this was routine for the Commander to verify everyone’s information on their first day.

“Yes, sir.” She stood a bit straighter, unwilling to let anyone look down on her because of her background.

“You’re a bit older than the average recruit.” It wasn’t a question but she felt that he wanted an explanation.

“I lost my....family, four years ago. It took me a year to finish saving up for the passage to the surface.” Y/N said looking directly into the Commander’s blue eyes.

He studied her for a long moment before nodding thoughtfully. He leaned back and appraised her. She twisted her hands behind her back and she saw his eyes drift to the movement.

He sat up and made his decision. “Report to Captain Levi. You’re dismissed, Y/N. Welcome to the Scouts.”

Y/N saluted and turned on her heel and marched out of his office.

She missed the smirk on his face as he watched the door close behind her.

~~~~~

Levi looked up at the knock on the door with irritation. “Come in.”

The recruit that reminded him of Y/N opened the door and he sighed. He should have known that Erwin would have picked up on his unease. Bastard never missed much. He wondered why he would send the girl that reminded him of his past lover to him now.

He had only ever mentioned Y/N once, after having far more to drink than he should have. He hadn’t been drunk, but his tongue had loosened. When Erwin had told him about his lost love Marie, Levi found himself sharing his memories of Y/N. The way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she twisted her hands when she was nervous.

The next morning, Erwin hadn’t mentioned their conversation, but Levi could be certain that he had never forgotten. He wondered if he was making him face his past, or just pouring salt on that wound to harden his shell a bit more.

“What do you want?” He asked irritably, looking down at his desk.

Y/N blinked at his tone. He had always been surly, but it had increased during their time apart. She moved deeper into his office and looked around. It was clean, making her smile. Some habits never died it seemed. The smile slid off her face as she started getting nervous about being in this room with him.

Her hands came together and started twisting together as she tried to tell herself that she didn’t love him anymore, knowing that it was a complete lie. She had always loved him, would never stop.

She didn’t notice him looking up and freezing at the sight of her hands twisting. His eyes widening before narrowing intently as they darted up to her face. She was too busy looking out the window, wondering how she was going to stand being around him without being hurt.

He caught her attention when he appeared in front of her. He was always so damn fast. His hand caught her chin between his fingers and pulled it up to he could look at it more closely.

“Y/N?” He whispered.

Her breath caught at the sound of her name on his lips again. It had been long since she heard it.

She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer because his mouth was covering hers, his tongue pressing into her mouth desperately. It was like he was starving and she was his meal. He pulled her against him, anchoring her to his body with his strong arms as he plundered her mouth.

She felt like she was drowning in him, his scent surrounding her and the taste of him on her tongue after so long being without it made her start to cry.

He pulled back, tasting her tears and brushing his fingers across her face to flick them away. His lips are gentle as they cover hers again, sweet and loving. Y/N sighed into his mouth and he couldn’t help but pull her harder against him again.

“Y/N, Gods, I’ve dreamed of you for years.” He whispered, running his lips down her throat as he placed his hands on her ass, pulling her up against his hardening groin.

“Why didn’t you come for me?” She asked, dousing cold water on his desire.

He looked at her sincerely as he answered. “They wouldn’t let me. I begged for months. The old Commander wasn’t as trusting in me as Erwin.”

Y/N nodded. Levi may have been a lot of things, but he was never a liar, not to her. His eyes asked for permission and she pushed her lips back against his in answer.

He groaned and pulled her up into his arms, carrying her through a door into a bedroom and covered her body with his own as he laid her down. “Y/N, I need you....” He groaned against her neck, his fingers starting to strip her of the straps of her gear.

Her own hands push insistently at his own, wanting to feel his skin under her hands and against her own.

They were bare in minutes, their skin hot and slick with desire as their mouths continued to tangle. She wrapped her legs around him and cried out as he desperately drove himself into her body.

His own strangled gasp at feeling her again almost made her come undone. His invasion of her sex was a little painful, she hadn’t been with anyone since him.

He felt her tighten around him, knew that like him, she hadn’t been with anyone else. He felt a sense of pride that she had waited for him, that she was in his arms again with no ghosts between them. His eyes rolled back as she flexed around his cock and a low moan escapes his lips.

It wasn’t a hard pace, but it was steady, his body rocking into hers with even thrusts. He couldn’t stop his hands from moving over her body, feeling as much of her as he could as tried to keep from coming too soon.

Her body responded to his like the last time they were together was the night before, not four years earlier. She felt herself shudder as his cock beat steadily against her back wall, making her gasp with every thrust. Her moans were getting louder, causing Levi to muffle her with his own mouth as he pushed her over the edge.

Bolts of pleasure shot through her as she cried out into his mouth, Levi eagerly swallowing the sound of her pleasure. He felt her pull him deeper into her body as she came around him. The feeling making his body tingle as he came to the edge of his own release.

Levi pushed hard into her body and stilled, gasping loudly and throwing his head back as his cum shot out of him with a force he hadn’t felt in years, making him weakly collapse against her, spent.

They barely had time to catch their breath before there was a knock on the door. Levi hurriedly redressed and walked out to his office to answer the door while Y/N slipped back into her own clothes.

She listened at the door and her eyes widened as she heard the voice of the Commander in Levi’s office.

“So I see the old lovers are reunited.” He says clearly, an amused tone in his voice as he addresses Levi.

“Yeah, so get out of here so we can continue.” Levi spat out.

“I’m happy it’s her, Levi.” Erwin said quietly.

“Me too. Now get the hell out of my office.” Levi said, moving him towards the door. “And Erwin? We won’t be leaving this room tomorrow.”

Erwin laughed as he open the door. “I expect nothing less from old lovers. You have years to make up for.”

Y/N smiled as she heard Levi flip the lock and call out as he headed back to his bedroom. “You better not have put your clothes back on, Y/N. You won’t need them for the next 24 hours.”

She grinned as the door flew opened and he settled his hot gaze on her, his smile wicked as he advanced on her hungrily.

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mousehole5000 · 3 years

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okay im rewriting tgcf (only in my head im lazy) here are my notes on hua/lian specifically this is long bc fuck it. major spoilers obviously and same trigger warnings as the content of the book

disclaimer disclaimer disclaimer that i dont know anything about the cultural background of anything in tgcf or story tropes etc etc this is just I Think It Would Be Neat If..

there’s not really any reason to keep hc as a kid in the backstory BUT in the story in the intro (which i like narratively) it still says that it was a child who xie lian caught. it’s one of those things that got added to the legend to make xie lian seem even more noble, there are also probably a few other inaccuracies in the intro that get found out as the story progresses. in actuality hc was kind of a known troublemaker to the city guards or whatever or had been in the past. maybe his mother just passed after a long illness and his tumble off the wall was intentional. either way he’s kind of pissed at xie lian for saving him. xie lian is concerned about his health so he has to stay at the palace for a while he recovers and only interacts with xie lian a few times. there is a point where he says out loud all the things about the divide between the rich and the poor that have been illustrated by the scenes with mu qing. feng xin tells him to shut up but mq goes dead silent bc he kind of agrees but can’t say and does have his loyalty to xie lian (its a whole thing) and the resentment begins

also i think young hc’s personality is similar to his personality in the present but a bit more reserved and he’s got like this plucky streak or something. also he is unquestionably gay

anyway hc sneaks out of the palace and xie lian catches him obviously but they have a brief little heart to heart where xie lian is like “look you can go if you want here take this money food” etc and demonstrates that he has actually listened to what hc has to say and hc is like “wow no one other than my mom has ever listened to me in my life so thats what that feels like i kind of like it” and he probably is a bit awestruck by xie lian in different ways and after that is like “okay this kingdom sucks but.. that guys not so bad”

sad ironic sense that if xie lian hadnt ascended until he was older he may have actually be able to do something about the problems in the kindgom but alas we have a cycle to perpetuate

the “take me as the meaning of your life” scene still happens p much the same but xl doesnt recognize hc who is actually now at his lowest point. hc tried to find ways to make things better for people like him but he simply did not succeed (maybe his were efforts quashed by the corrupt authorities? its implied probably) and he’s more disillusioned with the kingdom and life than ever but still is holding on to those memories of xie lian as proof that it doesnt have to be like this but that thread is slipping until!! whose fucking voice is that??? thats right its the one person you ever believed was truly good and went and proved you right by ascending to the heavens at age 17!!! guess its time to stan him forever

anyway hc joins the army but legally or whatever and tbh i would have hated the flower cave scene regardless of anything i just hate any sort of s*x pollen trope or anything so thats gone (they can have a wound tending scene or something tho thats the good shit) and instead we have HL getting overwhelmed by some other demons or something together and xie lian protects hc and they both get injured very badly (maybe hc would lose a limb but im not sure how that would work once hes a ghost so thats on hold for now until i figure it out) and xl is fine but this situation ends up being part of why mq kicks hc out of the army but yes hc still ends up dying on the battlefield anyway </3

the wuming stuff is the same i think but also at some point xl is despairing and says something about that guy he saved from falling and wonders what happened to him and fire ghost wuming is like !!!!! (wait does this happen in canon? honestly it should)

in mount tong’lu i was tempted to actually have hc have a similar moment to the bamboo hat scene with the humans who are trapped in there but im not sure if i just want it to be the same as xie lian’s story... also i like the idea of hc needing to hang onto his devotion to get through his first few centuries of being a ghost so maybe he’s just inspired by xie lian’s sacrifice with the sword and the souls and thats why he claws his own eye out as a sacrifice

so this can go one of two ways from here!!! both are me projecting hardcore so take them with a grain of salt im not saying im right about the way relationships should be these a re just my thoughts <3

1. (the not fun one but it still has a happy ending) the story more or less continues the same as canon. pure and simple devotion is what carries hc through the centuries. we get to see some ghost city antics and its fun but there is nothing complicated about the devotion hc just wants to find xl and protect him. hualian eventually meet. they get along pretty well!! eventually there are cracks. when you hold someone in your mind for so long you have expectations for them that no person can meet consistently. hc thinks that since he’s seen xl during the worst time in his life that he can handle anything but it turns out that as amazing as xl is, he is also just a person and sometimes he is wrong or irrational or annoying. xl is so happy to have someone who will listen to him talk that he kind of neglects to really get to know who hc is as a person and hc is kind of like “huh i didnt expect this but im kind of hurt. i genuinely thought that i just wanted to serve and protect you but actually im my own person and this is weird” but he doesnt say anything he thinks he has to stick to his promise and it gets kind of uncomfortable!! maybe his luck goes haywire bc his faith gets rocked for the first time ever and they end up having to talk it out but their relationship is stronger for it <3

2. (i think this one is fun) hc struggles with waiting. he does it but its hard. he has doubts and when all his efforts to find xl are fruitless he starts to grow bitter and curses the day that xl saved him. his faith burns low but doesnt go out. then ghost city!! hc realizes that he can finally help people like him, even if theyre ghosts now and hes grateful for the chance to do this and grateful to xl and resigns himself to waiting. but its still hard!! he realizes that his luck is tied to his devotion and gets kind of pissed about it!!! he tries to remember all the good things about xl but its hard!!! his search becomes more about repaying a debt so he can be free than anything else, he just wants to help the common people spirits with no strings attached (this actually allows him to keep his luck bc he has the same wish as xl and thats what makes him a true believer!! is this corny? does it make sense? i dont care) and so eventually when he finds xl he’s like okay how quickly can i repay this debt/how can i keep my powers but then xie lian is... so good... and hc actually really likes him he remembers why he swore his devotion in the first place. now hes conflicted!!! dont worry they fall in love tho <3

wow this was really long if you read this hiiiii. anyway when i reread ill try to pay more attention to yin yu and he xuan for hc’s 800 years. hua cheng we’re gonna get you some friends and lore i swear to god

#agenda on the whole: hc character exploration #more ling wen and she gets a gf #i am making fq so fucking canon #sqx also gets a gf it is not [redacted]#less pm less qr #more lady rainmaster esp relevance wrt to agriculture!! it affects so much!!!#mouse mumbles #tgcf textp #move

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mollydollyjournals · 3 years

Text

Monday 25th January; 156lbs

I didn't check my body composition today. I just stepped on the scales and left my phone in my bedroom, which means it doesn't send info to the app. So I know that I weigh a little less than the other day, but still way too much.

Toilet tmi again. Im still really constipated and it's actually just fucking painful. The biggest issue is it's not that I haven't been eating. I always try to eat reasonably high fiber (compared to my caloric intake anyway - 8-9g fiber a day isn't much for a normal 2000kcal diet, but it is for 800kcal) and if I need more then I have some particularly high fiber stuff like pulses. Fruit and veg is a good way to go. It's been 3-4 days now so I actually have been eating a bit more to try to make it happen, including higher fiber, but still nothing. I took some stimulant lax last night and still nothing. Had yogurt and coffee and still nothing.

I have this pain in my abdomen too. I suspected some internal bleeding last week or the week before so I'm sure something is up. Just I don't know what I should do about it. I don't want to go back to the doctor and ask them to investigate something else again. I think after my liver scan and blood tests came up fine they'll think I'm lying or exaggerating. I just don't know what's wrong with me. Is it an impaction? Do I have something constructing my intestines? An ulcer? I have really bad acid reflux too. It's like my digestive system is too full and it's just not emptying. My waist feels huge. It makes me actually scared to eat for physical reasons, because if it's not stimulating my gut to move like it should be, then all I'm doing is putting more pressure on my insides.

I'm currently drinking some osmotic lax, which is all I can do. It's what you're supposed to do for impaction. I bought it specifically because I've had these problems before and you're not meant to take stimulant lax, and sometimes it'll resolve itself but it can still be painful and also it'll take longer. Osmotic lax doesn't work fast though - you have to give it a few days. During those few days I'm just reabsorbing waste matter from my intestines. Its disgusting and unhealthy. And when it finally does work, I might have the opposite problem. In the past I've been reluctant to take lax for this because I've had instances where it acted kind of like...a plug. That once it's passed, everything else goes way too fast after it. Sorry that's gross. I guess if anyone wanted more motivation to eat properly it's so your digestive system doesn't get fucked up like this. I noticed a lot of mucus not long ago so maybe the regular mucus layer got stripped and hasn't replenished. Idk.

Other than that there is family drama happening with my brother who is currently in a psych ward and my stupid mother who thinks the sun shines directly out of his anus. My entire life she's treated him like her precious baby and I've just been secondary. Maybe because she associated him with my older brother who died. Who fucking knows. But they're stressing me the fuck out and pissing me off. I keep telling her what to do and what not to do, which I get from trying to properly research his conditions and others similar and from having dealt with her when she was in a psychotic episode, and she just doesn't. She thinks if she just talks nice and loves him enough he'll get better. As if that isn't the whole reason he's a spoiled piece of shit who thought he could take all the drugs with no consequences. This probably sounds very hypocritical from an alcoholic who has trouble not drinking even after physical health problems, but there's much more to it in my brother's case that I cba to go into.

The worst part is she gives him all the attention and understanding that I want and haven't had. I've spent the last few days feeling especially lonely and invisible. I've been talking about it a bit on social media and only a couple of friends responded. Hb came up to my room and saw me crying and basically acted like an awkward dad. Bf hasn't acknowledged much of what I've posted and we still haven't spoken directly. If not for those few friends I might have done something drastic. I don't know. I need to know if I'm actually liked loved and cared for. Missed at all. Lockdown has fucked with it so much and I already had trouble with it. I feel like I need to do something big to get attention. I could just be honest about my feeling like I want to kill myself and see who responds. But I've spoken about it before and people just kind of 'haha same' if that. I don't know if they realise that I'm genuinely close to doing something, or just don't care.

I do have borderline personality disorder and I'm so aware of the stigma. I don't want to be manipulative or abusive. I want people to want to be around me, not because I forced them. I'm so scared of being needy or annoying or overbearing or anything like that. And then if I do say something, I'm already feeling really bad and struggling a lot, so for it to be ignored hurts so much. That's why I end up drinking. I already have trouble seeing my friends post about their struggles and get so much support and love offered, when I get barely any. One of my best friends also has BPD but also everyone loves her. She has a successful small business doing what she loves, if I go anywhere with her strangers stop her and compliment her or ask to take her photo but pretend I don't exist or give me a passing smile. It's not that I don't think she deserves those things or love and support. It's just that I want it too. She's one of the few people who's reached out to me recently and I really appreciate it. I guess she knows how it feels. I just wish I wasn't so jealous.

So for my brother to start saying stuff in the family group chat and my mum to just start fawning over him and all that? Just the extra salt I really didn't need in my wounds. For one thing, I told her not to play into how he is because he'll feed off the drama. I know this because of who he is, that he really is an attention seeker, and that all 3 of us have a tendency to get caught up in things. My brother and I inherit our cluster B personality traits from her. I told her not to get into it and remain impartial. She didn't. I even messaged her and my dad separately and told them that I called the hospital and asked them to check on my brother, but she hasn't given me so much as a thank you.

She's up early for work and I sleep on Mars time, so my dad is still asleep. He'll probably say something when he gets up in a few hours. It all feels backwards. He was so abusive to me growing up. He was unnecessarily strict and horrible to me all the time and kicked me out and disowned me regularly. He tore down my entire sense of self and called me stupid and made sure I realised that if I wasn't doing well it was my own fault and I wasn't trying hard enough. But now he keeps a level head and we reconnected after years of not talking because my brother and mum both had a psychotic episode at the same time a few years ago. I hated him so much but now his approval and support is worth the most. But it's the same problem again - he seems to genuinely realise now that his overly authoritarian parenting was wrong. It's just how it is in a lot of African cultures, and his father was especially abusive, so he wasn't well equipped. He's doing things differently with my younger half brother. But why couldn't it have been me? Why didn't I get to have a nice dad who acknowledges his humanity? My half brother deserves it, but why couldn't I have that while I was growing up too?

It just makes me feel really abandoned. In every situation, there's always someone else who gets what I want, and I don't. I hate my brother so much. I feel like it'd be better if he was dead. But then my mum would spiral, and I'm not really that cold, so I phoned the hospital to talk to them and get them to check on him. Phone calls make me so nervous. I was shaking. Before the call, while I made the call, and for a long time afterwards. I didn't even get acknowledged.

I want a drink.

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winchester-reload · 5 years

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I accidentally drunk-posted this to ao3 last night, so I might as well post it here too since it’s episode-related. There’s a second half I’m not done with yet, but this bit stands on its own as a coda, or whatever.

Pairing: Dean/Cas

WC: 1400

tags: first, kiss, angst, episode 14x12 pre-coda

also on ao3

Cas came into the bunker like a thunderstorm, expression cloudy and eyes hot enough to start brush fires. He dropped the big book that’d been tucked close to his chest onto the library table in front of Dean, and it coughed dust as the water-warped pages accordioned together, fluffed up again. Kicked the old, thread-bound cover back, revealing the yellow vellum page; Possessionem, atque tutelam &, Vatican Ed. 1723, it said.

Dean uncurled from his book, hands slipping to the edge of the mahogany as he pulled in tight. Cas wasn’t supposed to be back yet. Last text Dean got said maybe Tuesday would see him in Kansas, and that meant Dean wasn’t supposed to have to deal with this. He should have already been gone.

Wonderful.

He cleared his throat. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, trying to keep it light.

“Oh, that?” Cas puffed, carelessly spilling into the chair opposite Dean. The airiness of his response was drowned out by the vinegar he had pickling his words. “It’s a book, Dean.”

“Well, shit, Cas. You don’t say—?”

“Yes. It’s a book that Jack and I managed to track to— and retrieve from—a catacomb in New York. Now, ask me why we went to all that trouble.”

Dean hesitated. Then, “Why?” because he was nothing if not a glutton for punishment.

“Well, because we heard it had some particularly potent protection sigils, which, might— ” He pecked an elbow onto the tabletop, twisted his hand in an overly-animated open shrug “—hypothetically—be beneficial to someone harboring an unwanted invader. Why? What did you do this last week?”

It was baited. Dean didn’t need the all caps, period-after-each-word, version of it to see that. He chewed his cheeks, slid his copy of Vonnegut away. Dog-eared pages flat against the table now until someone else bothered to pick it up. “Okay,” he said scratching his neck. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you talked to Sam.”

“What would give you that impression?”

“Cas, it’s a ma’lik box—”

“Yes—” Cas said, mocking, “I’m familiar with them.”

It triggered that little muscle twitch at the back of Dean’s jaw. “Okay, here we go—” and Cas shot back out of his chair.

“Jack and I were out trying to find literally anything that might help you, and all the while you were out building some stupid, secret box to go bury yourself in— And you weren’t even going to tell me—? So, yes, Dean. Let’s “go”,” he spat, throwing the quotes. “Why are you so impossible?”

“Alright, back off—” Dean bristled. He wanted to keep it civil—fuck, he needed to. The last thing he wanted was to have to ruminate on a fight with Cas for the next forever-billion-years, but the asshole was a button-pusher. Always had been. “I get it, okay? You’re pissed. You wanna be pissed, be pissed, but it ain’t gonna change anything. Billie said what she said.”

Cas rounded on him surprisingly quick, leveled a look so dark, it practically bred its own shadows. “No,” he said, flat, “you’re right, of course, it doesn’t change anything. But do you know what does, Dean? The fact that you’re lying!”

A fingernail of shame suddenly surprised Dean, twisted into his chest. “No—” he stumbled. This was getting away from him quick. Too quick. He scoffed, smiled, tried to brush it away. “Uh, no. You’re wrong—”

“Uh, yes. I’m right—” Cas contested. “See, because if Billie’s answer was to bury you with Michael at the bottom of the Pacific, there would have been no death note to hand you— because, in that scenario, Dean, you’d never die! And maybe Sam doesn’t know that, but I do!” He plucked his chest, tie swinging as he leaned in. It dredged up all those old, angelic chills Dean had filed in the archives of his memory; the weight Cas carried with him like churning ozone when he was all keyed up. “So, why don’t you tell me what the book really said?” he suggested with a low growl. “What you’re actually running from.”

Dean swallowed, tried to hold Cas’ eye, failed. They were close enough now that Dean was all but boxed in his chair, and butterflies played his pulse in response, kicked his heart up into his throat. “Okay, you’re—” he started. Then, “But, that’s totally—” and he stopped, watched Cas’ balled fists turn white at the knuckles. Fuck. “Did you tell Sam?”

“No, but I will tell him. I’ll tell him right now.”

“Don’t—”

“Then what did it say?”

“It said I die old,” Dean muttered, and it was like prying nails from his ribs just to get it out. “ It said I die happy. Natural causes. No Michael. No monsters.”

Cas blinked, caught off guard. The anger in his face diffused then fused again into something so much more knotted up. “I don’t understand—”

“There’s nothing to understand because it doesn’t matter! All the rest of ‘em said I die bad, Cas. All of ‘em! Michael burnin’ me out while he destroys the world—!”

“How does ignoring this one spot of hope fix that?”

“That ain’t hope! I don’t know what to do with that— I don’t even know where to begin to try to make something like that happen! The box is what fixes it! The box, I know how to do!”

Cas’ fingers spread, hands coming up like he wanted to strangle Dean, but couldn’t bring himself to get close enough. “Did it ever occur to you—?” he said slowly. Eyes rolling closed before peeling open again. “—that, maybe, your first step in accomplishing a happy ending, is to stop running? To stop this— suicidal ideation? To just... love, and let people love you?”

Dean shook his head, Cas’ words pooling at the hinge of his jaw and making it hurt. “It wouldn’t matter,” he said, looking at the bookshelves, the corners. Anywhere but Cas.

“Why—?”

“Because no one's gonna love me—” Dean spilled. “Who’s gonna love me like this? An archangel stuffed up in my attic and the rest of me so fucking screwed to hell, I can’t even sleep on a good night!”

Cas balled hands into his own chest, shoulders high and body tight like they were both about to go over some invisible cliff if he didn’t stop the vehicle soon. “I love you!” he pleaded. “Sam loves you! Your family— You are not unloved, Dean!” He had tears in his eyes, but it was easier to ignore them.

Dean shut his eyes, heat washing him. The image of Cas dying on an old couch at the back of the barn flared fresh in his brain— I love you, I love all of you— He tried to swallow it, but it was too sour. Tried to rub it away with the heel of his hand, but it only spread, made speckles. He shook his head, instead, pulled his already loose collar looser. “No, I… Not that kinda love,” he said quietly.

Cas suddenly deflated, arms falling to his sides, weight shifting between his feet. He sunk to the floor at Dean’s knees, looked up, face raw and open and done. “Sam loves you,” he said again quietly. “Jack loves you. Your mother—”

“Cas—”

“—loves you…” He suddenly touched Dean’s knee, stretched up onto his own, wedged between Dean’s legs, quiet and hot, cheeks wet with tears as he pulled all that electric energy in. “But, I—” He grabbed Dean’s face, cradled it between his hands as Dean’s fingers clawed into the fabric at Cas’ sleeve— holding him there, holding him back, he wasn’t sure which. “I love you,” Cas whispered. Something in Dean cracked, split open. He let their foreheads brush. Their noses.

Let Cas kiss him, soft and slow.

Cas kissed like he’d imagined it a thousand times, mapped it. Studied it over and over and over again, until every jump of his lips timed with the thrum of Dean’s heartbeat. The curl of his fingers at Dean’s jaw.

Then it broke, quick as it started, but Cas and all his hasty energy didn’t move back. Neither did Dean. “I don’t know another way to say it,” Cas admitted to the small space between them. His voice finally wavered, broke. His hands uncurled, flat palms drying the tears Dean didn’t know he’d lost. “You have to tell me because I don’t know.”

Dean suddenly remembered to breathe and it came in sharp and unsure. It came in with the smell of Cas and a hit of his blue eyes close enough to taste. Dean swallowed the salt building in the back of his throat and dug his voice out of Cas’ rubble. “That was it,” he whispered back. “You just said it.”

And it seemed utterly ridiculous how everything suddenly felt so simple.

#destiel #destiel fic #first kiss #season 14 #canon divergent #episode coda #idk what this is #i have destiel anxiety okay #I need something canon tonight #14x12 #14x11 #its been a minute since I posted some fic #so take this i guess

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petty-revenge-stories · 5 years

Text

Partying with prawns.

I live in an apartment complex. My flat is at the corner of the building facing perpendicular another apartment building. So my balcony (7th floor) is very close to other buildings balconies.

One night past midnight im woken by a party. Guys are singing at the top of their lungs on their balcony, they are maybe only 6? Metres away from my own balcony which is connected to my bedroom. I go out on the balcony and yell across hey guys do you mind keeping it down? They don't even look. I yell again, louder. Again. Louder. They sing louder. They are taking the piss and ignoring me on purpose.

They work me again at 2am and 4am, same results. The thing is this particular flat has had noise complaints before but the building manager just says to call police, you do and they don't even turn up.

I was really pissed and even more at feeling ignored and helpless.

A few weeks later is Christmas. In Australia we eat loads of Prawns and seafood for Christmas. I was peeling about 2kg of Prawns and at the bottom of the big bowl I had was collected all the prawn juice. I was about to wash it out but when I got a whiff of the salty tang of the briny prawn juice I was inspired.

I kept the juice in the fridge and drove the local kmart and bought the most powerful super soaker I could find. The brine juice was only a little amount so I added water, some vinegar, salt and sugar (I don't know if salt sugar will make it more potent, but can't hurt. As long as everything is clear coloured), and I had some salmon fillets which I sliced the skin off and soaked in the juice.

I waited until 2am on a quiet night. I had to make sure it was not windy. I was really scared of getting caught. I'm usually a law abiding citizen but they were so rude ignoring me when I was politely asking them to keep it down, to actually say fuck you to me by deliberately singing louder it made me so mad.

Around 2am I gently looked out my balcony, made sure no other people out on balconies looking this way, and aimed the water gun filled with prawn juice at their balcony. My first stream didn't get anywhere close, and I didn't want to hit anyone else's apartment. I pumped up the gun for maximum pressure and finally managed to wet the balcony railings and some of their balcony floor and furniture.

I threw out the water gun after because I knew the smell would linger no matter how much I washed it. I washed my hands (I'd been wearing gloves but still) and went to bed dreaming of those dickhead just getting a weird whiff every now and then they just cannot pinpoint and hopefully will haunt them in their dreams

(source) story by (/u/Admirable_Amoeba)

#pettyrevenge #by /u/Admirable_Amoeba #petty revenge #revenge story #petty revenge stories #revenge stories #last10

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jcmorgenstern · 4 years

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"#hey where's the fic where chaotic bisexuals jace and clary are in a relationship with clary's estranged brother's foster mom#literally lease my crops are DYING i NEED cougar lilith i NEED#(mundane AU 20k rated M or E) #im gonna have to write it myself arent i" // perhaps Lilith is beside herself over Jonathan leaving, and this is a chance to feel closer to him through people important to him. perhaps I love this idea.

tags from this post (thank you anon!!! i went a little fucking crazy and wrote this which is entirely unedited.....rip in pieces)

It had been a year and a half since she had seen Jonathan last. He had been hers in all the ways that mattered (but never flesh and blood) until he wasn’t, a stabilizing weight by her side cut loose. Sudden as that, she was in freefall. A prestigious editorship at a major fashion magazine turned to ball and chain, the envied life of a socialite the vanity of a mere woman, a luxurious New York loft to the dreaded empty nest. At her third strong drink in an evening, she could feel the thin coat of dust layering her womb, a mausoleum. Her son and one frivolous argument too many did what scores of small men had tried and failed to do.

On balance, she supposed she ought to proud it took her this long for the bland Promethean cycle of waking-working-talking-eating-sleeping-repeat to wear her down, and ashamed she gave in at all. A good mother, she knew, would never be caught where she is now--standing out in an ill-fitting tinsel dress she wouldn’t have been caught dead in two years ago, avoiding the eyes of men too young for her (beneath her) in favor of one in particular.

I only want to look, she’d told herself as she’d scrabbled at the bottom of her purse (Himalaya Birkin, years out of style, a metaphor dangling in crocodile skin off her arm) for her keys. Just to see. Get close. Watch.

It had been complete coincidence that she’d found out about the art exhibit in the first place. An invite to a wretched student affair from a once-great school grasping for relevance in the cynical age of the internet stuffed in with her morning mail delivery, ordinarily not worth a second more of her attention than it took to sweep it into the trash. The name was what caught her attention, an instinctive flash in the pan--Fairchild.

He didn’t go by Fairchild, of course. He was a man, and why would a man wear anything but the name of another man? At the threshold of adulthood, Jonathan shed the vile name of the woman who had given him up in favor of a ghost of a father. Her own, she realized now, had never been in the running. And so he called himself Morgenstern, an ugly name sealing him off from her like foreign territory. Morgenstern had a terrible finality to it.

She didn’t answer a single email or call the rest of the morning, snapping at any EA foolhardy enough to raise a word against her. By noon, she knew the girl and her boyfriend from smiling model pictures on Instagram, incomplete snippets of life from Facebook and Twitter. The wordless temptation finally had a face and a name and an achingly familiar mane of red hair. Fairchild was the name of his sister by blood, the girl for whom his birth mother had scraped together enough love to keep.

She picked the weaker link first--the blond. Men gave themselves away more easily than women, basking in every oozing ounce of attention. She took his measure in-between smiles and small conversations, observing him over the shoulders of conversational partners she took no interest in. Well-built, handsome, artfully disarranged hair, a James Dean sort of affable. The type girls wished for long after he’d moved on from her entirely. She could see him in the glossy pages of a fashion magazine and allowed herself to hate him, dip the fashionable one syllable of his white-hipster name in poison. Jace.

The second hour she allowed herself closer, indulged in scratching the surface. Uncomfortable in worn jeans and leather jacket surrounded by talk of Bosch, Mondrian, Xiaodong, he was here for his girlfriend, treading water in the art world to lend her a familiar face. He flirted with the girl at the bar more out of obligation than interest, reading off his come here often? lines stiff and atonal. By the time she drifted up beside him at the bar, she had given him enough nuance she could have convinced herself to like him.

“I don’t suppose you could get me one of those?”

It came out easy, like slipping into clothes from another life. Her first job as waitress faking pretty rouged smiles through propositions and comments and ass-pinches, or her first magazine internship weathering the same. He was drinking beer, and she couldn’t stand beer, but men had a peculiar weakness for women who drank their own kinds of drink.

He turned, bemusement turning to something else as she deliberately met his gaze. He was lovely up close, and all in a dizzying rush she felt the barest spark of that indescribable satisfaction she’d been chasing, found the ghost of Jonathan’s angular features in the broader contours of his face. His too-polite smile broke the spell. “I’d love to, but I don’t think my girlfriend would like that very much.”

The waitress smile slipped off. Put him in his place. “It just seems you’re the only one who can get any service around here.”

His smile turned instantly sheepish. “Oh, uh--sorry.” A quick word with the bartender, and soon she had her very own mug of alcoholic piss. He visibly cast about for a line of conversation, and it raised her ire that she couldn’t tell if he did it out of flirtation or pity. “Are you with the gallery?”

“Oh, no. I’m with Poise magazine. We like to browse local shows for rising talent. Keeps us fresh.” She gave a half-flicker of lash at fresh. The cover story was self-indulgent--the answer she gave only mattered to herself. She wasn’t searching for her son where she knew he wouldn’t be found. The flirtation was by rote. “Are you an artist? We’re always doing submission intake.”

It was an old and familiar lie. General licensure was the best any hopeful would get without prior connections.

“Me? No way.” He was warming up to her, rising to her charm like a snake from a basket. How old was he? He couldn’t even be half her age. “Clar--my girlfriend, she’s the artist. I’m here for her.”

For her, not with her. There was a distinction. She cued up the smile she used for interviews. “That’s lovely. What kind of artist?”

“A painter.” For a second, Jace’s expression was almost shy. “She landed the art school gig, but her mom taught her. It’s kind of her last connection to her, you know? Painting keeps her mom alive.”

The enormity of his statement quavered between them like a note from a tuning fork struck on an edge. She felt her expression flicker and melt like wax--Jocelyn was dead. Was it cancer, murder, a hit-and-run? Half-thoughts spooled out in her imagination, part vindictive and part lurid. Did he know? Did he think of her the day he learned she was dead, wish for her to put her arms around him and let him cry into her? She savored the imaginary heat of his short, hitched exhales on her neck, the precious hot droplets of salt falling on her skin.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m an ass,” Jace was babbling. “Did you--have you lost a parent too?”

For a moment, she could have laughed at him. Her father was buried, her mother entombed in a home somewhere conveniently out of mind. With a strange, electric jolt she realized he had assigned her fallen expression to the closest thing at hand, unbiased by that all-encompassing occupation: mother. A mother must have lost a child; a person could lose a parent a lover or a friend. It had been so very long since she’d been seen as anything but.

“Jace! JaceJaceJace--there you are!”

A mess of red-gold curls bounded by her to plant a messy wet kiss to Jace’s cheek. They kissed, young dewy-skinned and unabashed, and she watched with a feeling unlike Jonathan creeping on the edge of her thoughts. Jace broke away first, pulling her back into conversation. “This is, uh, Clary. Clary, this is--” he broke off, embarrassed.

Clary spluttered in the middle of knocking back the last of a sidecar, whipping around to stare at her with something wide-eyed and akin to wonder. “Don’t you--? Don’t you know who she is? Editor at Poise? The Lilith?”

“Not exactly,” Jace admitted.

Clary paid him no mind, cocktail glass immediately moored at the bar. She looked up at her and once she saw past the stars winking in the girl’s eyes, she could see they were the same soft hazel as her brother’s. Clary was drunk, and brimming with it from her ugly artistic blouse to her blunt art-student-lesbian bangs to the untamed curl of her hair. “It’s really you,” she gushed. “I’ve been following your blog forever, and your twitter--I’m being so embarrassing, aren’t I? Can I...can I have a picture?”

Lilith disliked her with a magnetism that pulled the girl in close, letting Clary slip an arm around her waist and hold up a phone too big for her small, delicate-boned hands. In the phone’s screen she could see herself frozen in real time, her red lips lifting in a waxen smile. Next to the peach-fuzz facewash-clean of Clary’s skin, her fashionable makeup and Oscar de la Renta dress looked old and severe, black and gold metals oozing out of her like a snake shedding skin.

“You were my first-ever crush,” Clary was saying with tipsy candor, and with a strange bump Lilith realized Clary was talking to her, not her boyfriend. Her words rushed out in a graceless rush, difficult to make out over the music and wordless chatter drowning her in a dull roar. “I’d spend hours cutting out your photoshoots from magazines, making collages--it drove mom crazy, all those internalized gender roles and whatever. She realized later I just thought you were really hot.”

The full blushing import of Clary’s words hit them all at once and Clary flushed a blotchy pink all the way to the roots of her hair and touched her free hand to her cheek. “Oh my god, I’m fucking drunk.”

Lilith became suddenly aware her hand was still on Clary’s warm waist, trapped under her arm. This was all unscripted, unrehearsed; she felt as flustered as Clary looked, thrown off by the noise and the heat and the alcohol she hadn’t even drank. She was wearing perfume, something cheap and cloying, and in a strange moment Lilith could imagine Clary spread out over a glossy page, slim peachy legs and delicate collarbones bold and daring out from under the heavy drape of a dark dress.

She reached for something cutting to take the girl down to size, but what came out instead was a genteel, “That’s very flattering.”

Clary gave her a pinched little smile in return, the very pink tip of her tongue darting over her bottom lip, and her blush did not abate. Lilith looked to Jace, who was looking between them with something uncertain in his eyes.

A strange, smouldering sensation had risen in her chest, thick and suffocating as a plume of smoke. Her hand did not so much as tremble when she raised a hand to tuck away a stray curl, the color so much lighter when it caught the light. Clary’s face swam before her eyes, raw and pink from crying over her dead mother.

“You’re very sweet,” she said, and there was a husky quality to her voice that only came on with one or two glasses of red wine. Her heart was pounding out a dull, insistent throb rising in time with a painful lump in her throat.

Her phone vibrated in her bag, breaking the spell with a start. She pulled away to relieve the sudden alcoholic flush and dug into her bag with utter disregard for her nails, feeling for the familiar cool rectangle of her phone. When at last she managed to disentangle herself citing creative emergencies needing her immediate attention and a whole host of familiar excuses, it was only then she realized on habit she’d given Clary her card.

The taxi ride back to her apartment was blissfully silent, dark except for the rising crests of light along the near-silent streets. Her own face hovered ghostly in the window, close enough to touch. Her fingertips met glass with a flash of red-gold and her eyes seared with a sudden heat, the ache in her sternum widening.

Her thoughts lingered on him as she greeted the front desk clerk, beside her in physical form in the elevator, hovering at the margins like a melancholy raincloud as she launched into her nighttime routine. Squalane cleanser to remove makeup, wash face before an exfoliant chemical blend, a layer of hydralaunic acid and then niacinamide to hydrate, an retinol under-eye cream to top it all off. The ritual grip of her thoughts relinquished only once she’d folded herself under the covers in her nightclothes, receding as she fell into the uneasy lull of sleep.

This time, the thought of him was mixed with traces of red and gold.

#my writing #clary/jace/lilith #idk how to tag this ghskldjfhg #crispy chat #friend anon #ps poise magazine is 100% taken outright from 13 going on 30 im a classy bitch up in this establishment

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plounce · 5 years

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im like. not even into cr (i fell off the wagon and then was too upset about molly to catch up) but like. your spn au. is Incredible, like. the catholic guilt... the pining... molly as an angel, falling and still resplendent and charming and proud... beaus bde (big dyke energy). etc. i dont have any specific questions or anything please just use this ask as an excuse to continue going off.

THANK YOU YOU ARE TOO SWEET...that’s what happened with half my friends tbh you are valid. i still watch because i’m devoted to caduceus and beau, but that’s me.

you have immediately caught my attention by mentioning “catholic guilt” which is a favorite character trait of mine to stick onto caleb. i imagine that trent was from the school of hunter who put a lot of stock into old christian remedies to things

[this got LONG so this is a READ MORE]

ok digression now that im thinking about this universe. i imagine there’s a few broad schools of thought within hunters, because theres a lot of methods that work but theres a lot of superstition among individuals/families about which ones work best, why they work, how they should be performed. there’s ones who have a more christian bent, there’s ones who are very no-nonsense silver-and-salt (just stick to the standard materials and don’t use a lot of bullshit), there’s ones who dip into witchcraft here and there, and those who use whatever they can and hope it works. some of these get passed on by families or mentors - some people fall into hunting from The Outside and use what they find.

beau was raised in a no-nonsense family. they’ve been hunters going back generations and generations, tough men who are strong and are capable of fighting evil and uphold family traditions. LOTS of hypermasculinity and patriotism etc. conservative. lots of military. beau being a girl was a disappointment to them because [misogyny], but when she got older it was more her disobedience. you listen to your father and uncles on hunts, but beau listens to her gut, and even if she saves the day she’d get punished.

she’s good at hunting, which infuriates her (she hates that she’s one of the family, but she also hates that her family keeps her from helping others to her fullest potential) - but mostly she just hated the control. she hated the stifling, how she could never be anything but a lionett. she ran away and lived in anonymity for two years before caleb found her and begged for her help. but even now, when it’s her and caleb and she’s with him and not with them - she still gets recognized by other hunters as the lionett girl. tell your uncle steve he owes me a beer, wontcha sweetheart?

she hates it. can’t stand it. it’s even worse when she runs into her family and they either get pissed about her huge dykey look or tell her glad you finally found a man to carry on the family line. sometimes caleb tries to stop her from punching out a cousin’s lights, but some nights he just quietly retires to the car to wait for her to need a quick getaway.

caleb, meanwhile, was brought into hunting by trent, who was never clear about how he got into hunting but he was so knowledgeable and wise that caleb never thought to ask. his family home was burned down by demons possessing his parents (they made deals with devils, trent tells him, brought that evil into your home. we must fight to protect the innocent from the weakness of the wicked.) (he is lying, but caleb doesn’t know that. he’s only ten years old. it’ll take 17 more years for him to learn the truth.)

trent rescued him and told him secrets, and caleb was born drinking down all the knowledge he could get his hands on. astrid and eodwulf were already with trent when he was picked up, and they were his little disciples, doing research and sweetly manipulating witnesses into spilling their hearts while trent did the dirtier work. that changed when caleb was 13, and he and astrid and eodwulf dug up a grave as trent fought a ghost, and caleb lit the match to set the corpse alight. trent was so proud of him, told him he could trust him, and started taking him on hunts after that. astrid and eodwulf were so jealous, but caleb was jealous when astrid got firearm training first and when eodwulf got to learn how to drive their van. it was his turn to be the favored student.

trent was very catholic. rosaries, latin, silver in shapes of crosses, holy water up each sleeve. a prayer muttered whenever there was a spare breath. stop in a church every sunday they can. confess your sins to your father, since we’re nowhere near an actual priest. (trent knows a lot about caleb.)

caleb starts the “show” at age 25. when he was 22, eodwulf disobeyed during a hunt, and he was tersely given supplies and sent off on a hunt on the other side of the state. caleb doesn’t know if eodwulf couldn’t find his way back to them or if he abandoned them, and trent told him not to think of him, but caleb kept graffitting the three of them’s secret codesymbol whenever the thought crossed his mind. i’m still here, wulf. i thought of you here in this rest stop. i hope you are okay.

when he was 23 and a half, trent sent astrid to represent him at a hunter gathering. find out what you can. report back to me when you are able. i picked you for this, do not fail me. you can be independent. go in strength. caleb was so achingly jealous that trent trusted her for this and not him, but then trent told him my loyalest student. my favorite. you are the one to stay by my side. i trust you will live up to this regard. and the sting soothed.

when he was 24 or so, trent sent him to investigate a disappearance in a neighboring county that might’ve been linked to their current hunt. when caleb came back, trent was gone. after a month of combing over their motel room and the surrounding area for any clues, caleb decided to himself that this was another test, and he must continue on as normal. be independent. a strong young man. a warrior for christ against evil. and he kept his chin up and did his best. until he couldn’t do it alone anymore (weak weak weak) and he dragged himself to beau’s doorstep.

(i do want to say here that when things finally shake out with astrid and eodwulf, it is eodwulf who is the treacherous trent supporter and astrid who is the one who is a little bit... uncomfortable with beau’s general dykery bc she is catholic but is all-around ok. she’s like it was good to see you again caleb, it is good to see that you’ve become a good, honest man, and that you have a better sister than i ever was to you. go in peace. it’s all very healing and good. it’s not perfect, but it’s some amount of closure. that trent and his manipulation and abuse and demon deals haven’t condemned caleb to being completely horrible.) (also there is NO astrid/caleb romance here obv)

when caleb finally gets comfortable around molly The Angel Of The Lord he starts tentatively peppering him with questions about the faith. a lot of the stuff he learned from trent was wrong. molly was never really a “faith enforcer” angel anyway, but he’s just so confused that caleb is so hung up on so much stuff, when the whole thing is about love? (it’s... different for humans than for angels, yasha eventually tells them. humans can get second tries. that is why i am often very jealous of you all, yasha says, looking somewhere far away.)

honestly caleb and molly are very “i love everybody because i love you” in this au which is extremely valid. finding love in others to find love in the world to find love in others etc etc - yes, this is my les mis past speaking, and it is smart and correct. “revolution is an act of love” etc etc.

also i hate having to draw beau’s super short hair because i have limitations but im SO pleased with that design, i think it really fits the vibe. beau with her crew cut and caleb with his hair he never bothers cutting and both of them in flannels. hell YES

#wmspn au #chirps #robcr #qll #THANK YOU FOR THE SUPER SWEET AND VALIDATING ASK... YOU ARE NICE TO ME :)#lessebian

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