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infamousmonkey-cat · 6 months

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I wasn't gonna do a reaction post this week for reasons that will probably become obvious but then I was annoyed at myself for not doing one yesterday, because I would have felt like SUCH a smartie pants for predicting that Ed was gonna fish up one of the bottles, and now I just have to hope that you will believe me that I did predict that in the privacy of my own mind (though I owe it all to that one post from weeks ago that was like "what if a fisherman found the bottles" so I can't really take credit but ANYWAY). But yeah thoughts below cut

This got kind of absurdly long whoops. Also I am inevitably going to say stuff that people disagree with but man I am begging you to be gentle with me. I am just trying to work through some of my feelings about the show and other people are going to have different feelings and that is FINE and nobody is under attack here and there is room for different opinions peace and love

Quick disclaimer: I haven't been reading a ton of meta or diving into the tag or anything, so if I say something wildly off about the fandom response at any point, it's based on vibes from what's been on my dash and I may have got the wrong end of the stick there.

I'll go ep by ep for the most part but this point applies to both eps, so I'll dive in first: I seem to be in a minority within the more active parts of the fandom in that I truly do not have strong feelings about Izzy one way or the other. I do personally feel that his characterisation in season two is not consistent with that in season one, HOWEVER 1) I have not expended a ton of mental energy on doing a deep dive into his s1 characterisation, so I'm willing to believe I've missed stuff [not actually convinced of this but don't care enough to put my foot down about it] and 2) it simply does not bother me. I consider Izzy to be a secondary character that they've decided to somewhat retool in between seasons, and I am basically fine with it. You know who else is different this season? Jim! It seems pretty obvious to me that the development of BOTH these characters is due to the influence of the actors, and honestly, that happens in TV. I DO understand people's frustration that a character who espoused views and behaviours that were fundamentally at odds with the whole moral premise of the show has been rehabilitated so easily, buuuut... I don't personally want a version of this show where Izzy's rehabilitation arc is given tons of screen time, either, so I am okay with just accepting it. ALSO, this s2 version of his character--while not necessarily feeling entirely earned--is considerably more fun to me! I'm really enjoying his bitchy little one-liners and his drag act and whatever. To make a comparison, I did see some complaints early on that Oluwande's relationship with Zheng felt rushed, but to me they fully sold it with their performances: it was easy to read between the lines that there had been a growing attraction between them for a while. Point being, I think we need to be okay with allowing some of the secondary character/relationship development to be elided, because it is not necessarily a priority to have it all put on screen in front of us.

Anyway, moving on to ep 6: I don't have a huge amount to say about the bulk of this episode. For the most part I really enjoyed it. I think Ned Low is a great send-up of the monologuing villain with a lot of psychosexual baggage, and I loved the way that was resolved. I'm probably the only person in the world who didn't already know this, but I looked up Hellcat Maggie because the name rang a bell, and she was a member of the Irish-American Dead Rabbits Gang in the 1800s, which was also known as the Mulberry Boys, and their enemies were the supporters of the anti-immigration Know Nothing party. Supposedly she used to file her teeth down to points. I am not making any of this up. [Bob Dylan voice] Go home and look it up on WIKIPEDIA*

Anyway: the party planning/coconut shack date, Calypso's Birthday and the Ned Low showdown all worked great for me. Some of the stuff--Ed shoving Stede behind him and begging Ned to torture him instead--was honestly a LITTLE bit tropey for my tastes, but hey, they're classics for a reason. I kind of think it would have been interesting to see the opposite dynamic (though of course we do see Stede trying to protect Ed in his own way later in the episode): we've already seen this kind of thing from Ed back in 1x09 with the British, so a role reversal might have been a bit more interesting to me (since this season has been so much about role reversal), but like this is a very minor niggle.

I think that Stede's disposal of Ned worked narratively and wasn't inconsistent with his character (I get the vibe that some people think it was?), and I think that Ned's line about Stede being a "pet" and Ed only liking him for his "bumbling amateur status" was some really rich stuff (and a callback to the QAR crew's description of Ed and Stede's relationship back in 1x06). And of course the whole "pet" motif has been running through season two as well: Stede's callback to doggy heaven, Ed's cat bell, even Wolf the bunny. There's something really interesting there, but I don't know if there's enough time left in the season to really get to grips with it?

Moving on to the sex scene: here I seem to be a bit out of step with my own small fandom circle, because I had mixed feelings at best about this. I've seen the argument that the show was obviously framing it as being romantic, with the fireworks etc.; I guess that's what bothers me about it, because to me it was so obviously... off. To be clear, I don't think it was in any way non-consensual or anything like that, and hey, the kiss, out of context? Amazing! But IN context--Stede has JUST had his first real kill, which has been framed by the narrative and the other characters as a big deal. Also framed as a big deal: Ed asking to take things slow in ep 5. Ed comes to Stede to "talk things through", and brings up his own most significant trauma--the death of his father (right after we saw a super quick flashback to some of Stede's own dad-related trauma)--and Stede cuts him off with a forceful kiss. To me, it feels kind of obvious that their first sexual encounter is being linked with violence and childhood trauma in a way that is not, like, fun or sexy or romantic TO ME, regardless of how the rest of the scene is shot and intercut (which is not me making a moral judgment on anyone else's feelings about this scene; just stating my own emotional reaction to it). IF the show wants us to find this hot/romantic, then it didn't work for me and I found it jarring. If the show wanted us to find this kind of destabilising and compromised, then it worked for me but I feel like we deserved better!

SO. Episode 7. I'm just going to be super upfront right at the top: this episode really bummed me out and I didn't like it. Not saying I hated every minute of it or that nothing worked for me, but overall I didn't enjoy it. I saw on the official OFMD Instagram account's stories a couple of days ago some footage from one of those preview screenings they did of these episodes in a cinema or whatever. The MC was like "how about those episodes!" and I remember thinking, "wow, the audience seems kind of weirdly muted". Well now I get it! I would have been too!

I've seen people saying that Ed panicking and running off to become a fisherman is a mirror to Stede panicking and running back to his wife in 1x09, which does track, but I actually think that the symmetry here is multivalent, and there are also echoes of 1x08, which for the record is my most hated episode of season one that I can almost not bear to rewatch--not because I think the WRITING is bad but just because it is a little bit too real for me, in terms of situations I've been in where someone I care about who supposedly cares for me lets the worst person in the world treat me really badly, picks them over me and then acts like it never happened and expects me to just be fine with it? I DON'T LIKE THAT!

So yeah, listen, I always felt like Ed leaving with Jack at the end of 1x08 and then immediately coming back was kind of a double beat, or even a triple beat. We already had him threatening to leave and then changing his mind in the previous episode, and then we have STEDE leaving in the following episode, so I always felt like it sat a little bit oddly for me. I do think it's an important and enlightening episode in terms of Ed's character and in revealing some of the underlying issues in their relationship that they need to address (plus giving us yet another flavour of toxic masculinity), but I don't know, it has always bugged me a little bit even beyond the fact that it is just too personally painful for me to enjoy.

Slight detour here--I'm gonna bring it back--to say that, while I am more glad than sorry that we have had so much BTS and promo stuff for the finale, it does create a little bit of a sense of inevitability to proceedings that undercuts any dramatic tension? Like, I feel like we can fairly confidently put together the beats of at least the first act of next week's episode. Those being: Ed has left, he is in a rowboat, he realises that Stede is in trouble--under attack from the British no less!--and heroically turns back to save his true love. So--basically the end of 1x08 again.

As much as I have been enjoying the narrative symmetry thus far, it's in 2x07 that it starts to feel forced, for me. While I can totally buy that Ed starts to regret the sex for all the reasons I mentioned above (though to be clear I don't think he regrets it until later), and that he's uncomfortable with Stede getting drunk and rowdy and playing into a pirate archetype that Ed wants to leave behind (all of this ALSO mirrors/reverses Stede and Ed in 1x08 btw), the idea that he would decide to leave forever to be a fisherman? This is the same guy who spent the first three episodes of the season totally inconsolable because Stede left him, and regained the will to live because of a vision of Stede? And now he's just voluntarily leaving forever because of one conflict? I... guess this accords with Ed's previous behaviour in 1x08, but again, that's always kind of bugged me. I don't know, man, I know they need to set up the big romantic beach reunion scene, but I feel like they could have had Ed go off fishing to clear his head after an argument instead, and that would have felt a bit easier to swallow for me. Sure, not as dramatic, but more believable.

So, this brings me to something about the show that I am starting to find a little bit disappointing, which is that... I feel like it keeps undercutting moments of tenderness and queer joy! It didn't bother me so much in season one, I think just because the show was such a breath of fresh air in so many ways. But now, having committed to being the queer pirate show and playing into that in the marketing and kind of rebranding the whole identity of the show as being a queer love story (which is always WAS but wasn't initially marketed as), I kind of feel like there's a promise inherent in that. And yet again and again I feel like we're getting the rug pulled out from under us. Like--Stede's beautiful love confession in 2x04 being immediately mocked by Anne and Mary (I know people love Anne and Mary but honestly it was getting a little too close to Calico Jack territory for me at times). Like the sex scene feeling (to me) weirdly compromised. Like Ned Low attacking the Revenge before Ed and Stede can dance together! Like Ed deciding to cut and run, AGAIN, at the slightest sign of trouble. And I know it's going to get resolved next week, and I feel like the release schedule for this season (not to mention only getting eight eps obviously) has been to its detriment. I understand why they felt like they needed to put out episode three in the first week because our guys don't even share the screen until then, but I think 2x07 MIGHT have felt a lot more palatable if it had gone out with the finale instead. I also think 2x03 and 2x04 going out together might have felt like a more natural pairing, and would have meant that I was not overwhelmed with misery after the first three eps (actually I still would have been overwhelmed with misery because of stuff in my real life but like, LESS so maybe). Although getting to savour the 2x03 end scene for a whole week was pretty great, and ditto 2x05, so maybe I don't know what I'm talking about.

Anyway. 2x07 felt really off to me, primarily in the characterisation of both Ed and Izzy, but also somewhat in the showdown between Zheng and Stede. I could understand it more if I felt that s2 had done a lot of work to establish that Stede is straying towards playing into a toxically masculine pirate archetype, but I think there are really only two times (prior to this ep) where this happens: the (dream sequence) opening of 2x01 and the third act of 2x06. Otherwise, we've seen him being really good at customer service, embracing the "tender" label from Zheng and fitting in with the Red Flag girls, counselling Lucius, saving his crew after the mutiny despite his heart being broken, bonding with Izzy, serving cunt in a cursed new suit, defusing the situation with Ned (until he didn't)--basically Stede has been really GAY this season? Like I honestly felt like THAT was the way he had swung, not towards performing violence and hypermasculinity. So Zheng's dressing down, while maybe working in the context of the scene or even the whole episode, doesn't feel well-integrated into Stede's season 2 arc to me.

Look, I'm going to leave it there. I know this is long-winded and rambling and I fully lost track of time and missed the window to use my Early Bird chest on Duolingo. I doubt anyone will read this whole thing. I just needed to get some stuff off my chest I guess.

*Anyone on Dylan twitter gets this reference!! There's tons of crossover between tumblr OFMD fandom and Dylan twitter, RIGHT? Anyway it was a thing he said in the outro to 'Goodbye Jimmy Reed' at a concert the other night. It was funny because of his dramatic delivery of the word 'Wikipedia' followed by him immediately running out of momentum and mumbling "Wikipedia" again with zero confidence. It was some nice late-career Dylan stage banter. I went to see him around this time last year and man this R&RW tour is great, even though I saw it in a pretty bad venue. The best time I ever saw Dylan was at the Brixton Academy, he played the intro to 'London Calling', it was electric. The first time I saw him was at the NEC arena in Birmingham and it was kind of a letdown but I have fond memories of it anyway, I went with my dad. I was talking to this bartender the other week about seeing your heroes live and honestly it made me realise that I haven't been to any live music in way too long! I'm happy to say that I got to see Bobby Womack perform live right before he died--actually technically I didn't SEE him, you see I was volunteering at Latitude and the bar was perpendicular to the stage. However I COULD hear him. One time I saw Nick Cave live and a woman standing behind me fainted on me! It was pretty stressful but I'm still glad I can say I saw Nick Cave live you know what I mean? The dream would be to see David Byrne but I doubt I could afford it... maybe it'll happen who knows

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #this is nearly 3000 words long and some of it is just about different concerts i have been to #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT #dear diary today i had a lot of feelings

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eurydicees · 9 months

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Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

hello!! i don't mind at all :D this question has been on my mind since you sent this a few days ago and i'm still undecided. like. i can't narrow it down to a list. that's so hard. i'm so indecisive. i'm putting these in no particular order, it's just a list. ordering them was too hard and i'm so small and not good at playing favorites. i'm only gonna do seven because this post got absurdly long. thank you for the ask!

haikyuu!!

oh my god genuinely one of the best written manga/anime that i've ever read/seen. it's so good. the characters are so vivid and they are all so important to me. every scene, character, arc, plotline...it's all treated with so much love and care and i'm so grateful for that. and the ending is SO satisfying--it all comes together so well. i was genuinely rooting for every character's success throughout the entire story. it's so important to me.

hadestown

this is a musical so idk if this is an answer you want, but this musical is so amazing, i have to mention it. it manages to encapsulate so many important messages while also creating a truly very compelling story. the way it reworks the original myth--staying true to the story, while putting its own twist on the world and the relationships of the characters--is truly brilliant.

next to normal

another musical. sorry for being a theatre kid on main. but fr this is genuinely one of the most important stories to me. it's gorgeous as a musical and as a story: the music itself is truly beautiful, the storyline is unforgettable, the characters are individually each so well-written and have so much depth. it means so much to me personally; the representation of an imperfect life, living with bipolar disorder and all that comes with it, the impact we all have on each other's lives, the exploration of relationships and mental illness and self-perception and healing and imperfect, non-linear growth....it's truly a work of genius in my mind.

bridge to terabithia

i know that this is a children's book but i recently reread it and it blew my mind how much depth, care, authenticity, and love is in it. it's a truly beautiful piece of art: i was so impressed by the characters, by the story, by the #Point of it all. it's a coming of age story but it's also so much more than just growing up. it's about imagination and childhood and friendship and it means so much to me.

fruits basket

this is such a beautiful exploration of character and relationships and abuse and love and family and friendship and the importance of a single person. it's such an important piece of writing. i would say that this is probably the weakest of the seven on the list, writing-wise, but i also think that the characters are so well-written, so expansive, and so fleshed out that it deserves to be on a top 7 list. each character has something special to bring to the narrative and i love that.

ouran high school host club (the MANGA not anime)

i'm soooo crazy about this manga. there's so much to unpack with every chapter, every arc, every character, every piece of this world...i love it so much. the characters each are so deeply loved by the narrative and i appreciate that. it absolutely has issues as a piece of satire from 2002, but i have forgiven tamaki suoh for his crimes so it's fine /j. but like genuinely, it has some of the most beautiful character and relationship development i've seen in a manga, specifically surrounding tamaki and haruhi. i know people have a love-hate or sometimes just hate relationship with tamaki, but he as a character means so much to me....i adore this stupid silly manga so much.

percy jackson and the olympians

i've been debating putting this one on the list for a little while now, but it has such sentimental value that i think it deserves to be here. it's one of my favorite childhood series and honestly that first series holds up! which is so refreshing to see because man that cannot be said about everything. i love the characters so so so much and the actual story is so brilliantly and lovingly crafted, and the way it all comes together and is woven into a beautiful ending makes me so wild. i do reread this series every few years and i have never once regretted it.

#ask #tldr list for the tags:#haikyuu #hadestown #next to normal #bridge to terabithia #fruits basket #ohshc #pjo

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bloody-wonder · 2 years

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mid-year book freak out tag

Les Bookes: read them, love them, write absurdly long posts about them📚

1. Best Book You’ve Read So Far in 2022? sadly i haven’t yet read anything that would blow my mind this year but i think my top 3 would be the power of the dog by thomas savage, empire of the vampire by jay kristoff and these violent delights by micah nemerever. the premise and the characters of the power of the dog are *chef’s kiss*, love me some evil gays and family dramas, but it’s kinda,, unfocused? it does that thing often found in classics when you want to get to the juicy stuff but the book’s like nooo veggies themes first. but the payoff is amazing and the ending is abrupt and very bold so i do recommend it if you don’t mind the slow pace. empire of the vampire is an extremely fun and very tropey high fantasy book with 🙌vampires🙌 and just a tinge of gayness. i’d heard a lot of mixed things about kristoff’s edgy writing style so i could mentally prepare and in the end i had a great time. i do have a lengthy list of criticisms, half of which are some version of “could’ve been much gayer“, but i suppose you have to accept the baby steps of cishet male fantasy authors, sighh🙄 and these violent delights is just a very solid dark academia book. a rare case when a book truly delivers on the buzzwords and comparisons mentioned in the blurb, so if hitchcock’s rope, leopold & loeb or the secret history give alluring vibes, check it out. (based on the afterword and the author’s bio i can safely say he’s my doppelgänger lol. i wish i could link that afterword somehow bc it’s like someone gazed into my soul and put it on paper). however, this book does read like a debut and in my opinion could’ve benefited from a couple of additional drafts in the course of which it should’ve preferably lost some of it’s ya-ness😬

2. Best Sequel You’ve Read So Far in 2022? the queen of attolia was the best one and definitely leagues better than the first book in the series but artificial condition isn’t far behind🧡 also the winter of the witch was a very satisfying conclusion to the winternight trilogy😊

3. New Release You Haven’t Read Yet, But Want To? vale aida, the author of the magpie ballads, just published her second book - it’s called hostis and as far as i understand it’s a mm enemies to lovers historical romance set in ancient rome. i would pick it up immediately but it’s the first installment in a duology (?) and i’m afraid i’ll have to wait for book two and read them back to back bc if it’s anything like her previous books it’s gonna be very slow burn and i wouldn’t be able to handle any cliffhangers. but who knows, maybe i won’t have enough patience anyway lol. i also just finished dream boy and now want to pick up jim grimsley’s most recent release - the dove in the belly - which sounds like a grittier version of heartstopper👀

4. Most Anticipated Release For Second Half of 2022? definitely fence vol. 5! in the last volume we finally had some skin to skin contact, who knows what depravities the next one will bring😅 there are also a couple of tumblr-adjacent comics i’m excited about: twelve percent dread by emily mcgovern from @emilyscartoons (which actually might be out already🤔) is about the quarter life crisis and working as a tutor in a rich family - both things i’m an expert in - and it’s gotta be hilarious if the snippets the author posted so far are anything to judge by. the dead romans (?) webcomic by @apolinariomabinis is the other one and i’m not so sure about the details but i think the homoerotic cassius/brutus art i’ve been religiously reblogging for the past couple of weeks are actually rejected scenes from a comic which the creator is gonna start posting in july :D

(tbh the og answers to the two previous questions were to paradise by hanya yanagihara and babel by rf kuang but now that i’ve read some early reviews i’m not that excited about these books anymore😬)

5. Biggest Disappointment? fucking vampire chronicles! *deep inhale* so. was anybody going to tell me that anne rice isn’t a good writer or was i just supposed to REread three of her books and find it out myself?? interview with the vampire is passable but underwhelming, the movie is by far superior imo, especially tom cruise’s portrayal of lestat. the vampire lestat is disappointing bc rice was just determined to retcon everything and make lestat a generic chosen one protag. but hey! at least the armand parts were good, right? well ig joke’s on me for picking up the vampire armand only to realize that as soon as rice makes someone a protag their personality is gone. but then, ig it’s true for her writing in general: her character work is just atrocious bc all of them feel the same and if you tune out for a minute and miss the scene change (which i sure did bc these books are boring af) you will never be able to tell you’re reading about different people now. her plots are ridiculous to non existent, her vampire lore gets ever more batshit (derogatory) the further you read and i find her preferred themes of religious guilt etc etc extremely tiresome. her prose is undeniably beautiful but if anything these books will forever be the example i hold up to prove that prose alone can’t carry a story. anyways,, at least it had some high quality smut👌 i just wish i could read it in a book like empire of the vampire instead ugh

6. Biggest Surprise? a density of souls by christopher rice who is, ironically, anne rice’s son😅 based on the blurb i thought it was gonna be some form of dark academia but it starts like one of those 2000s high school movies that are either nostalgic or didn’t age very well and then spirals into a high stakes intergenerational melodrama of massive proportions (the climax involves a freaking hurricane!) and goes to some very juicy taboo places with its characters’ relationships. the cherry on top is the afterword rice wrote for the new edition in which he recounts many a hilarious anecdote about his experience writing this book as a 20yo gay son of a very famous author and which was probably the funniest thing i read this year, all the more amusing for its contrast in tone to the melodramatic novel. another big surprise or ig more of a hidden gem was heart of stone by johannes t. evans which is a historical slice of life mm romance between an adhd vampire and his autistic secretary. (yes, i’m having a vampire themed reading year😁). very cute and wholesome, deliciously slow burn, binged it overnight but was somewhat let down by the ending bc imo the misunderstanding plot device overstayed its welcome and - oh horror! - the smut was fade to black😩 i mean the book’s still good but you can’t tease your readers with homoerotic blood drinking and then not deliver >:(

7. Favorite New Author? this year i read strangers on a train by patricia highsmith and can now safely say she’s one of my favorite authors. absolutely love her approach to thriller which is not about building up a mystery and resolving it in a satisfying way (forget about that lol) but instead about exploring the minds and feelings of her unhinged queercoded poor little meow meow characters. the same goes for philippe besson - i read another one of his “autobiographies” and i suppose if i’d read them in english his writing style would steer on the cringier side but it seems very appropriate in french. very excited to read dîner à montréal now to find out who this frenchman allegedly fucked next👀 i also have high hopes for christopher rice and shirley jackson to become my new favorite authors as soon as i read more books by them :)

8. Newest Favorite Character? murderbot is an aroace icon and “i'm in this picture and i don't like it” kind of relatable BUT phil burbank is a crusty man i can put into the washing machine and spin very fast hehe. also honorable mentions to father konstantin - very cool of katherine arden to write this frollo knock off character and then have him gay kiss unholy demons, 10/10

9. Newest Fictional Crush? marquis jean françois of the blood chastain. would drink from him on three separate nights any time😏 or whatever you need to do to get vampire married in eotv

💕Best Ships💕 an additional question selected and approved by me with the purpose of drawing the booklerina council’s attention to the fact that the framing narrative in empire of the vampire is basically damen/laurent interview with the vampire au which begs for fanfic writers who would go down the path jay kristoff was too cowardly to tread. (unless he plans to go there later in the series in which case i take back all the criticism😅 i do love me a slow burn but as of now book two is nowhere in sight so the point still stands). another fictional love story that stood out to me this year was ofc that of eugenides and attolia. didn’t care for how they got together in the end but the,, “inciting incident” for that relationship was sooo up my alley and the enemies to lovers banter was very good😏

10. Book That Made You Cry? the winter of the witch had all the bittersweet stuff the conclusion to a series should have and so it definitely made me tear up a couple of times but the book that made me cry the most this year was un certain paul darrigrand by philippe besson. life that gets in between two lovers, the dramatic farewells, the scar kissing, the flashforward scene many years in the future in which paul implies he regrets the choices he made way back when... there’s something about the unfulfilled love stories besson tells that makes you think how foolish, if only the characters said this, if only they did this instead, there would’ve been a lovely happy ending - and then you remember that it’s not characters you’re talking about, it’s real life people bc these books are at least inspired by besson’s own life, and so there’s no “what if”, there’s only what they did and where it led them😥

11. Book That Made You Happy? the porn fantasy webcomic for some inexplicable reason known as oglaf makes me very happy. very soothing to watch diverse pansexual cartoon people fuck and make funny jokes😌 the ladies of grace adieu by susanna clark was and the will darling adventures by kj charles (which i’m currently reading) are also a well of positive emotions. but i would be lying if i failed to mention that the bookish experience which is making me the happiest this year is re-reading the lymond chronicles with @starlingshrike🥰

12. Favorite Book Adaptation You Saw This Year? the power of the dog. i’m cheating a bit bc i watched it last year when it came out on netflix but it’s a good adaptation and a good film whereas the few i watched this year did not impress. *cough* heartstopper *cough*

13. Favorite Review You’ve Written This Year? the humongous vampire armand rant i wrote exclusively for katie in our tumblr chat lol

14. Most Beautiful Cover? empire of the vampire uk cover is gorgeous! the art inside the book not so much😬

15. What Books Do You Need To Read By The End of The Year? sighh remember i made a list of top 5 books to read in 2022? half the year is gone and i only finished one of them🙈 with fire and sword is on top of my pile of shame bc i started it all the way back in january and am still only a few chapters in. the other ones are the last two nightrunner books, fire and hemlock and rebecca - let’s hope i manage to read them this year after all, fingers crossed. the tbr pile of shame also includes you love me by caroline kepnes which was already featured on the last year’s mid-year tag🙈🙈 i also want to continue with the murderbot diaries and the queen’s thief as well as give another chance to gideon the ninth. hopefully i’ll also be reading more from the mlm authors i discovered in the recent months: the dove in the belly and dîner à montréal i already mentioned, to those i would add the snow garden by christopher rice which sounds like a very juicy thriller about a “a dark dance of sexual manipulation, twisted retribution, and murderous rage” between a married college professor and his secret student lover. sign. me. in.

i cordially invite @figuringthengsout @counterwiddershins @jimscoffee @fugitoidkry @magpiefngrl @sugarbabywenkexing @fandomreferencepending @pemberlaey @oliviermiraarmstrongs @moonsandstarsaregay @bellaroles @hello-jumping-in-puddles @thehalcyonharbinger to yell at me about the books you guys read this year :D

#stay tuned for the lymond chronicles as oglaf scenes post #book tag

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benjiwyatt · 3 years

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do you have any ben/leslie headcanons! i love your posts abt them so much it's great to see someone get as emotional abt them as i am asjdkajhjd

i got this message and i was like "god, i dont really know if i have any headcanons" and then i opened my notes app and started typing and didn't stop for over an hour

i'm literally putting this under a break and organizing it into categories bc it's absurdly long

here it is

A COLLECTION OF BEN AND LESLIE HEADCANONS

PRE-RELATIONSHIP/S3

basically canon but leslie definitely had a crush on a young benji wyatt and followed the story religiously for the first couple months before she started college

ben is only slightly jealous leslie had ann go out with chris to try and get more money for the parks budget rather than leslie asking him out with the same goal. he knows it’s insane, unethical, and illogical but he’s still excited that he gets to spend the night with her on a date plus two other people even if it is to accuse her of bribery.

ann realizes early on that leslie was attracted to ben and teases her mercilessly about it. she thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that leslie wants to make out with "mean ben.” after april and andy’s wedding, she realizes it's more than just attraction and she lays off.

before ben can even think rationally about what he’s doing, he’s in line at bed, bath, and beyond with a crock pot in his arms, calling stephanie to ask her to send him their family’s chicken soup recipe

ann knew ben liked her from the beginning and was totally positive when she ran into him in the hospital asking for leslie’s room number while holding jj’s waffles and a tub of homemade soup.

ben realizes he’s falling in love with leslie when he is at city hall with her until 3am one night trying to budget for the amount of cotton candy machines she wants for the harvest festival. in his exhaustion, he naively believes her when she tells him she’ll go home in a bit so he leaves. he never gets a text from saying she made it home so he stops at jj’s the next morning and brings a takeout container of waffles and a coffee complete with an outlandish amount of whipped cream and sugar to the parks department. he finds her asleep in the conference room. he starts trying to convince sweetums to donate more cotton candy machines that afternoon.

chris had to have known ben liked leslie. he’s not an idiot. in the deleted scene from their wedding, they read out emails from their “tumultuous first week in pawnee” and chris writes to ben saying, “why are you so focused on leslie knope?” ben replies saying, “i’m not. whatever. shut up.” there’s no way chris is this oblivious. ben takes her out for a beer. ben pays out of pocket for a children’s performer to help her out. ben shows up on chris and ann’s date just because he thinks leslie might be there. chris can’t be this dumb. but when they take the city manager jobs in pawnee, he knows it can’t happen so he cuts ben off when he starts to ask about dating someone in city hall. he cracks down on the rule in front of leslie after the tom incident to hammer it in. he starts setting ben up on a bunch of dates to try and head it off. he sends them to indianapolis for the little league pitch because, realistically, he knows they’re the best bet for success but makes sure to interrupt their dinner and invites them to his apartment to continue to run interference the rest of the night. after their fights in 4.06-4.08, he hopes he won’t have to worry anymore. the next work day, they come into his office looking nervous and happy and he knows he’s about to lose the partner and best friend that’s been by his side for the past decade.

april and andy knew they were secretly dating. it went unspoken aside from a few implicit teasing remarks from april and a few suggestive attempted high fives from andy but leslie assured ben they wouldn’t tell anyone despite their ostensible behavior.

BREAK UP

ben had commissioned the li’l sebastian plush for leslie after he had died but the toy shop didn’t finish it until after they broke up. he felt bad not going to pick it up so he did despite not being able to give it to her. he kept it for all those months and sometimes thought about getting rid of it but could never bring himself to do it.

when leslie made personalized copies her books for her friends with individualized annotations and notes in the bylines, she had two copies for ben. there was one that she gave him during their breakup that was very simplified and watered down where the note basically just said “i’m really glad you decided to stay in pawnee.” then there was a second copy that she kept while they were split up that was totally covered in notes and random thoughts she couldn’t say during their time apart. she gives him that copy when they get back together and it may or may not be the best gift he’s ever received.

april was much less abrasive with them during the break up because she’s a sweetheart and wants her friends to be happy.

the first time leslie admitted she was in love with him was during a long night of drinking and crying at ann’s house

ben craved the taste of sugar during their breakup because he got used to tasting the sweetness when he kissed her

ben found himself unable to sleep at night without the sound of leslie talking in her sleep to comfort him

april texted leslie the night of the halloween party to let her know that ben and andy were at the hospital after a fight and everything was fine and she didn’t need to worry. leslie was mad at andy for a few days after and he couldn’t figure out why.

the only photo in ben’s bedroom was of himself, leslie, and li’l sebastian at the harvest festival. if he got caught staring at it and crying, he would just say he missed li’l sebastian so much.

april and andy started having star wars and star trek movie nights to try and cheer ben up

DOMESTIC

ben and leslie got in the habit of having weekly game nights with april and andy during the campaign since they were all basically living together. it became a tradition that kept going as often as they could make it happen, even after the kids were born. they try to have game night at least once a month. april pretends to hate it.

one of my absolute favorite ideas about them is that she sleeps much better when he’s around to keep her grounded. after they get together for good, she starts getting closer to 5 hours of sleep a night.

another favorite involving leslie’s sleeping: ben is typically accustomed to tuning out incoherent nonsense that she babbles in her sleep but she also has some of her best ideas when she’s not busy trying to focus on a million different things. when he hears her coming up with legitimately good ideas or making speeches or having solid debate arguments, he takes out the notebook he keeps in his nightstand to record her thoughts and quotes. he revisits and revises the notes to strengthen her statements and make them more professional and less rambling but makes sure to keep her distinct voice apparent in them.

ben prefers pancakes to waffles but he will go to the grave with that secret

this isn’t a headcanon because nbc posted it but one of ben’s holidays on leslie’s calendar is watch synchronization day which is the day they celebrate syncing their watches to, as leslie puts it, “always be in harmony, like our hearts” which is just one of the sweetest fucking things in the world

leslie makes ben read and watch all the harry potters because he didn’t get into them when he first tried. ben is much more of a success than ann. she buys him a ravenclaw scarf for christmas.

their first fight as a couple was a historical debate gone awry

since ben clearly has some affinity for custom stuffed animals, he has some made for the triplets.

they’re both dog people but they adopt a cat because sonia and stephen beg for one and it does fit their busy lifestyle much better. they love the cat. they get a dog when the kids are older and life is slightly less hectic.

they both love striped shirts and sweaters so much that they have to make a conscious effort to avoid wearing them on the same day and matching

leslie makes sweets and bakes desserts while ben typically handles cooking the actual meals

BASED ON EPISODES, QUOTES, AND THROWAWAY LINES

i always loved the ann/ben dynamic in bus tour because there’s been such an obvious shift in ann’s attitude towards him in this episode. maybe it’s because she and tom just broke up and she just turned chris down again and she’s frustrated with relationships but i think it’s her realizing ben isn’t going anywhere. since the campaign is winding down, she realizes that things aren’t gonna go back to the way they were because ben is now part of this and he’s clearly in it for the long haul. ann’s definitely jealous that ben is just as important to leslie as she is and she now knows she’s never gonna get that full attention back. ann sits ben down to have a real “don’t you dare hurt her” speech after this ep and before win, lose, or draw. this is when he tells ann he wants to marry her.

they discover they both adore the princess bride after ben says “as you wish” to her one night and after that it becomes their movie.

the wildflower mural becomes a thing between them when ben says he considered that to be their first date, prompting leslie to tell him what the mural means to her.

ben puts banjo boogie bonanza on one of the mix cds he gives leslie at the beginning of their relationship

harrison ford movie nights start after they both reveal they had a crush on him as a kid. ben was obsessed with han solo and leslie was into indiana jones’ whole history teacher vibe.

they basically hate each other’s taste in music and stop exchanging mix cds once that becomes apparent that they aren’t gonna find much common ground. they both love tom petty, al green, and etta james and music in that vein though.

ben makes leslie watch game of thrones just to try to explain why he’s called her khaleesi. she gets into it, not so much because of the show itself, but because of how passionate her boyfriend is about it.

they start learning basic french during the s4 campaign because they think it will be useful to have a basic multilingual vocabulary for their political careers and because leslie confesses she has always dreamed of seeing paris. they study spanish next.

ben makes leslie watch the star wars prequels just so he can complain to her during them. he doesn’t think she’s paying attention and then he reads about midichlorians in the paper.

ann is also in on ben’s plan to sneak vegetables into leslie’s waffles.

they will sometimes jokingly refer to themselves as the “dream team” or “dynamic duo” because, despite chris’s absurdity, it’s true

i’m open to literally any origin of this because no matter what it’s perfect but i like to think that “i love you and i like you” started at some point in season 4 when, at some point, leslie went “i like you” and ben replied “you like me?” “mhm” “hm just like me?” “yes i like you. i love you and i like you. both.” “mmm i love you and i like you too”

i barely even register some of these things as headcanons since they just live so solidly in my brain

this might be my favorite ask ever thank you for loving benslie enough to ask me this and be genuinely interested

if anyone read all of this, i love you

#most of me loves you for sending this ask but i just procrastinated so much work while writing this #ben x leslie #otp: deeply ridiculously #cherubsona #mail #this is truly absurdly long no one is gonna read this

72 notes · View notes

ladyartemesia · 3 years

Text

TEASER: Kim Seokjin and the Mean Omega

Pairing: Nerd Alpha Kim Seokjin x Popular Omega Reader

Genre: A/B/O • Enemies to Lovers • (Sorta) College AU • Best Friend's Brother AU (Who is surprised? No one?)

Teaser Word Count: 3.6K

Teaser Warnings: A/B/O sexual dynamics • suggestive content

Rating: Explicit (18+) (Teaser is PG-13)

Summary: In the modern world, alphas are almost unheard of so why even bother learning about them? After all, as a spoiled (but reasonably kind-hearted) omega who is used to getting whatever she wants, you have better things to do. However, when unexpected circumstances throw you in the path of (extremely) nerdy and (probably?) shy Kim Seokjin, you're shocked to discover that he won't be wrapped around your little finger as easily as all the rest. Bringing that infuriating geek to his knees quickly becomes your personal mission in life... But it turns out that Kim Seokjin is not what he appears to be and the mean omega who eats beta boys for breakfast is about to get way more than she bargained for...

Author’s Note: This story would not be here without the love, support and friendship of my incredible support system. You talk with me, you laugh with me, you listen when I’m crying, and you read my chaotic drafts when I am ready to pull my hair out of my head in frustration. I love you all. @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @lemonjoonah. ALSO thank you to each and every one of you who encouraged me to post this story. This fic is dedicated to all of you as a token of my love and appreciation. Your support keeps me writing. Never doubt that for a second.

“...due to discriminatory anti-alpha policies in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, alphas were nearly eliminated from the general population…”

You heaved a weary sigh and rolled your shoulders—stretching the buttons of your high-end Oxford shirt to their limit. The beta sophomore to your right whined audibly and you smirked.

“...despite efforts to restore the genetic balance of designations, alphas currently comprise less than one percent of the population…”

Your back arched slightly as you crossed your legs, letting the absurdly short hem of your skirt ride up even higher. The poor boy you were tormenting shifted miserably in his seat.

How was he supposed to focus on a Human Biology and Designation Studies lecture when the living breathing embodiment of every sweaty undergrad’s fantasies was twisting her fingers in her hair and wrapping her pretty pink tongue around a strawberry lollipop right there in the middle of class?

“...unlike betas and omegas, alphas possess enhanced strength and the ability to compel other designations with their voice. Unmated alphas especially were often baselessly feared and distrusted...”

You knew exactly how you affected boys like him. You were a shameless tease who relished their attention and the power it brought you. Who needed drugs when driving a man mad with desire was a rush more potent than any high?

“...and that’s all for today so please read pages 450-466 in the text over break and remember to turn in your essay on scent and consent in intimacy—”

That poor sophomore looked like he had finally worked up the courage to speak to you, but you were already out the door and tearing down the hall toward your beautiful (and entirely platonic) counterpart, Kim Taehyung.

“Do you think Professor Moore is unaware that class is over at 3:25 or is he just torturing us for science?”

Taehyung shrugged, falling into step beside you with practiced ease.

“I mean I would torture you for free so it’s hard to say.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up at his characteristic dry humor, but the irritation at being held in that sweltering lecture hall for an extra ten minutes had frayed your temper.

“It’s the last class before spring break, I’m sure he was on some sort of twisted power trip.” You dug around in your purse for some chapstick, ignoring Tae’s amused snorting, “Alphas barely exist anymore and none of us are likely to meet one. Why bother learning what they can do?”

Taehyung tilted his head in amusement.

“You might be surprised.”

The final party before the beginning of spring break was always a laid back affair.

Many people had already caught planes to their various destinations, but your flight was scheduled for early tomorrow morning—leaving you with some time to kill.

Taehyung pressed his newest experimental concoction into your hand within minutes of entering the house (a surprisingly neat bachelor pad owned by two seniors, Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi) and then darted back to the kitchen to craft more questionable alcohol potions like a deranged party warlock.

You had just found a comfortable place on the couch and were contemplating whether sampling your best friend’s mad scientist elixir would be worth the probable damage to your body when—

“H-Hello...”

It was that sophomore from your Designations Studies class. What was his name again? Jungwoo? Jinwook?

“Jungkook,” you smiled, delighted to have remembered before it became awkward. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You motioned to the empty cushion next to you and the man in question scrambled over like he’d won the lottery.

“I—I know we don’t know each other well, but I noticed you were absent during Professor Moore’s lecture on intimacy and scent consent so I—” he blushed deeply, “I wrote the essay for you—and I brought a copy on my flash drive if-if you want it.”

Your heart melted immediately.

“Oh my gosh Jungkook, that is so sweet of you!”

Your gaze darted over his muscular form and thick brown curls.

Sweet indeed.

“I don’t want to miss out on the learning though,” you pouted, placing a hand on his tattooed bicep. “Can you explain it to me?”

Jungkook nodded vigorously even as his wide eyes fell to where your fingers were sliding slowly over his chest.

Scent consent was a pretty basic and universally known concept, but you really were touched by the handsome sophomore's consideration.

Why not give him (and yourself) a little reward?

“Um so basically if two people are involved in...intimate activities—”

You leaned forward to nip his ear lightly and he whimpered.

“Like this?” you asked innocently.

“Y-Yes. Like that.” He gulped. “In an intimate situation consent or refusal can be smelled. The scent of refusal or reluctance in intimacy is strong, unmistakable, and has a high chemical potency.”

“Is that so?” you drawled, sliding over onto his lap. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back into his head and you bit back a grin.

He was adorable.

“Uh-huh—it—oh my gawd,” (you were nibbling on his ear again) “it can immediately block sexual arousal and performance in the other partner. Meaning, if consent is not present, then it becomes difficult or—ahh” (his voice began to waver under your continued attention) “—or even impossible to continue with intimate acts.”

Your hand slid up to his cheek, bringing him closer till your lips were almost touching.

“Then what does it mean if I’m still so turned on right now?”

“It means,” Jungkook shuddered—nearly delirious with your scent, “that I really really want you.”

Across the room, Park Jimin chuckled as he watched you seduce his enthusiastic friend.

Jeon Jungkook was such a sweet kid.

Hopefully he wouldn’t get too attached.

“Wow... Some people are genuinely born blessed I suppose.”

Jimin turned to see Jung Hoseok eyeing the dimly lit corner where you and the eager young sophomore were exploring each other.

It was a rather...provocative spectacle. Not quite raunchy (you weren’t truly an exhibitionist)—just insanely sexy.

Jimin’s gaze lingered on the smooth curve of your thigh where Jeon Jungkook was currently holding on for dear life.

Lucky bastard.

“Ah you know how she is,” he sighed. “That boy isn’t going to get any farther than anyone else.”

It was relatively common knowledge that you liked to mess around but rarely—if ever— fully hooked up with anyone.

Jimin asked you about it once during a drunken game of truth or dare and you had just shrugged, mumbling something along the lines of avoiding STDs (which—to be fair—was at least part of your motivation), but the truth was a little more complicated than that.

In terms of experience, you weren’t a virgin, but... you hadn’t actually had sex in years.

You loved the chase, the foreplay, the build-up—the game of cat-and-mouse between two people who were attracted to one another.

But the final consummation was always so…

Wildly unfulfilling.

Every encounter left you frustrated. Empty.

Grumpy—even.

So you stopped bothering with it all together. (That was what sex toys were for after all.)

At the end of the day you were perfectly content being labeled a tease—it meant that people tended to know what they were (or rather weren’t) getting into when they rolled the dice with you.

Besides…it hadn’t even put a dent in your throng of admirers.

You were sunny, spoiled, indulgent, almost universally adored—

And you loved every minute of it.

“You know…” Hoseok took a long sip of his drink. “I always thought she would end up with Taehyung, but it’s been three years.”

Like you, Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat and it was only natural that two beautiful and absurdly privileged people would gravitate to one another. You met at a freshman pledge party and had been an inseparable (and formidable) dynamic duo ever since.

The undisputed king and queen of campus.

Yes—maybe the two of you were a little self-absorbed at times, but it was hardly your fault that people tended to instinctively cater to the force of your combined looks, wealth, and charisma.

And it didn’t hurt that neither of you were ever intentionally cruel or unkind.

Just... habitually thoughtless.

(Though not when it came to each other. If anything your friendship was one area where you were both a little more human.)

Jimin shook his head.

“Nah that’s never gonna happen.” He tapped his nose. “They’re scent-crossed.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

Scent-crossed pairs didn’t smell sexually attractive to each other.

Like. At all.

No matter how physically or visually appealing an individual might be, it would be near impossible to form a sexual or romantic attachment to them if you were scent-crossed. Alphas, betas, and omegas were all subject to their noses first and foremost in the realm of attraction.

You and Taehyung smelled like comfort and home to one another...

But you were more turned on by a crisp cup of apple juice than you were his scent and the feeling was quite mutual.

He might as well have been your actual brother.

“That explains so much.” Hoseok snorted as he watched a drunken Taehyung do a flying leap on top of both you and Jungkook.

“Why is sunlight so offensive?” you croaked, dragging yourself and your luggage toward the boarding ramp next to an equally miserable Taehyung.

“The next time I book a flight before 9 AM, please shoot me,” he grunted.

Your parents were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with a month-long European cruise so your best friend had graciously invited you to spend two glorious weeks of spring vacation at his family estate.

The invitation had actually come as somewhat of a surprise because—for all your closeness—Taehyung was uncharacteristically tight-lipped about his family.

Not that he was deliberately withholding information per se… It was just that he never really brought them up beyond an occasional passing comment.

The one time you did ask him about them directly he sighed and said—

“We’re very close, but… I suppose we’ve just gotten used to being very private.”

There was clearly more to the story, but you were confident that Tae would share it if and when he was ready.

“My parents are in Seoul opening a new branch of the company. They took my little sister with them and my older brother has his own house so it will be just us.” He snuggled deeper into the first class seat directly next to yours. “We’ll hang out by the pool and chill during the day, then hit up some of the new clubs or whatever at night.”

“So… No one from your family will be there?”

Perhaps the invitation was not so surprising after all.

“Nope. Just you and me and thirty acres of ocean front property.”

You grinned.

“Perfect.”

“Whose room is that?”

The two of you were lugging your bags down the main hall of Taehyung’s expansive mansion when a strange hint of...something caught you right by the nose.

Your friend turned to find you frozen and staring curiously at a familiar door near the balcony.

His eyes widened, but you were too preoccupied to notice his momentary concern.

“That’s just Jin’s room.”

A firm hand wrapped around your wrist and dragged you away, but your eyes stayed glued to the source of the mysterious scent until you were around the corner and out of sight.

Your suite for the next two weeks was right across the hall from Taehyung’s. There was a whirlpool, a full bath, a balcony, and an ocean view that would rival the cover spread of any travel magazine.

Tae headed for the shower (to ‘wash the airplane off’) immediately after showing you the room and you were thinking of doing the same except…

Your mind kept going back to that door and the hint of scent you detected.

There was something… different about it.

It was faint—and far from fresh (which made sense considering that one of the few things you did know about Kim Seokjin was that he hadn’t lived in this house for years).

But still…

The need to smell it again pressed insistently at the back of your mind.

Suddenly the sound of Taehyung singing raunchy lyrics in the shower carried over through the walls and you found your feet moving almost of their own accord.

What Tae doesn��t know won’t hurt him, you rationalized, making your way down the hall toward Jin’s door. Besides—it’s not as if I’m going to steal anything…

You just needed to find that scent again.

By the time your fingers closed over the knob every one of your nerves was strangely—acutely—alert but nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting behind the door.

Oh. My. Gosh.

“What a colossal nerd.”

The room was covered floor to ceiling in Nintendo memorabilia.

Bright primary colors assaulted your eyes from all directions in the form of action figures, posters, pillows, and every other conceivable merch variety known to man.

In the center of the suite stood a large king-sized bed covered in a custom black couture toile-style Mario-verse bed set (that looked every bit as expensive as it was geeky) and a mountain of high quality Nintendo character plush toys.

Everything was simultaneously luxe and nostalgic—a rare combination of sophisticated aesthetic balance and childlike indulgence.

And the scent was there.

It was faint and covered under layers of cleaner and air fresheners, but still lingering just below the surface—too weak for you to get a really good whiff, yet potent enough to torment you.

You moved forward unconsciously toward the strongest source of the hypnotic smell—the strangely inviting expanse of Kim Seokjin’s mattress.

Suddenly the urge to climb—no crawl—across the bed itself and roll around in it like a kitten in catnip gripped you out of nowhere.

“What the hell?” you muttered, rubbing absently over the mating gland at the base of your neck.

Something very odd was going on with your body.

Your restless gaze zeroed in on one of the stuffed toys piled atop his pillows. It was a cute little mushroom man your brain recognized as a Mario character named ‘Toad’.

Take it.

Your mouth dropped open in shock.

You need it.

“Am I going insane?” you wondered aloud.

You have to take it.

Muscles in your hand began to twitch involuntarily. You bit your lip.

Bring it back with you.

Several minutes later a freshly washed Taehyung wandered over to your room and found you sitting perfectly still on your bed while staring off into space.

His head tilted in curious concern.

“Everything ok?”

You started a bit at the sound of his voice, but recovered quickly.

“Never better!” you chirped—almost too brightly. “Let’s go get some dinner, I’m starving.”

Then you grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall toward the kitchen—shutting the door before he could catch a glimpse of his brother’s stuffed Toad doll stashed underneath your pillow

“...a critical water main rupture in the city’s New Market district early this morning has forced several residents out of their homes as flood water swelled up to nearly two feet. The governor declared a state of emergency and ordered hotels around the city to accommodate the displaced citizens. Crews are still clearing the water and assessing damages. We expect—

“Hey!” you shouted through a mouthful of cereal, after Your best friend switched off the television, “I was watching that!”

“And what you should be doing is getting ready for the pool.” Tae snatched your cereal bowl and dragged you by your shirt collar toward the stairs. “It is the first morning of our vacation. I’m not trying to waste any time. Now go.” He shoved you forward, smacking your ass for good measure.

You swatted back at him half-heartedly as jogged back up to the room where you enjoyed a surprisingly restful sleep last night.

Kim Seokjin’s door glared at you accusingly as you shuffled past—unable to let you forget that you had kidnapped it’s little mushroom man in an unexplained fit of kleptomania, but that was a problem for your future self.

The you of right now was going to zen out in the Kim family's premium glass-enclosed indoor pool (it was still a little chilly for the outdoor pool) with her best friend and bask in the simple joys of good company and no responsibility.

...Or not.

A few minutes later you bounced into the living room wearing a simple black tankini with a cute floral cover only to find Taehyung on the phone with his head in his hands.

“Yes, sir. I understand… I...I know this is my responsibility...”

That didn’t sound good.

After a few more tense moments, Tae hung up and collapsed backward into the couch with a heavy sigh.

“That water main break you heard about on TV this morning was the last straw between the province and its current contractor. They called an emergency meeting for new bids.”

Your heart dropped as you sank down beside him.

“Your dad wants you to go...doesn’t he.”

Taehyung nodded miserably.

“He can’t leave the Seoul opening on such short notice and managing government construction contracts is part of what I’ve been training for. This could be huge for our company.”

“Well...why doesn’t your brother go?”

“Jin is the brains behind most of our patented gaming and tech innovations. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with this sort of thing. Besides,” his lips quirked up in a rueful grin, “my brother doesn’t have the patience to stroke entitled geriatric egos for hours on end—which is likely what I’m going to have to do.”

The two of you headed back to Taehyung’s room where you helped him pack some suits and toiletries for his trip.

Naturally you were disappointed but...this was a great opportunity for your best friend to prove himself in his chosen field and you both knew it. In fact, he was already starting to brighten a bit.

“The meeting is about a hundred miles north of here. My dad’s secretary already handled the flight and hotel room.” His eyes darted around the suite to see if he was forgetting anything.

It was clear he was nervous, though you were sure he didn’t need to be. Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat, but he was also talented and deeply passionate about his family’s company.

Someday this would be the norm. The two of you were stealing time in college, determined to live a little before the expectations of your powerful families transferred fully onto your shoulders.

It was becoming more and more clear, however, that your carefree time was slowly running out.

Mother had already spoken to you about potential marriage alliances and your father expected you to intern with his Vice President this summer just as your elder sister had...

Taehyung’s voice suddenly interrupted your bittersweet introspection and you couldn’t help but smile at how grown-up he looked in his suit and briefcase ensemble.

Everything was going to change, but not quite yet.

“They estimate negotiations should take around a week or so…” He walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. “There should still be some vacation left for us when I get back.”

“Hurry back then,” you mumbled grumpily into his chest and he chuckled.

“I will.”

Taehyung had been gone for less than twenty minutes when you decided that the best use of your time would be to eat more snacks.

The last thing you expected when you skipped merrily into the kitchen was to find it occupied by a shaggy-haired homeless man in glasses.

Your first instinct was to scream which caused the homeless man to drop the apple he was biting right onto the floor where it rolled around for a small eternity before coming to rest at his ankles.

Your second instinct was to grab a butcher’s cleaver from the nearby knife block and wave it chaotically at the intruder while shouting something along the lines of—

“You’ve made a huge mistake! My boyfriend is the biggest, meanest mafia boss in Seoul! Leave now and he might let you live!”

The homeless man continued to stare at you with a mixture of confusion and shock, but made no move to run away in terror like you were hoping.

So you tried again.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?! The last man who touched me drinks his steak through a straw now! Do the smart thing and leave before my boyfriend comes down those stairs and it’s too late!”

Infuriatingly, the homeless man was still not fleeing for his life and frankly you were starting to get frustrated. You drew in a deep cleansing breath and were prepared to issue another grandiose threat when he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, miss. I... think there’s been some sort of mistake. Who is your boyfriend?”

There was no rational explanation for what came out of your mouth next, but it rolled off your tongue so smoothly and you didn’t even flinch.

“Kim Seokjin.”

For the first time in your entire exchange, the intruder looked truly alarmed.

Now that’s more like it.

“You’ve heard of him I see. He’s a dangerous man and my body belongs to him.” You slammed the cleaver down onto the countertop with a (hopefully) menacing slash. “Kim Seokjin doesn’t like when other men put their hands on what belongs to him.”

There was a long, unpardonably tense moment of silence…Then the stranger slowly reached forward and picked up a mobile phone from the table in front of him.

His eyes remained locked with yours as he pressed a quick series of buttons, brought the phone to his ear, waited a few seconds and said—

“Taehyung… Would you mind telling me why there is a half-naked, knife-wielding omega in our kitchen claiming to be my girlfriend?”

Hello! Please comment on this post if you would like to be added to the taglist!

You guys were all so wonderful, and encouraging, and excited that I literally got this teaser out in three days! If you like what you read so far, please let me know! I cannot put into words how meaningful and valuable feedback is to me. I truly treasure it! It fuels my creativity and keeps me writing. I would love to hear from you!

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Four

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Manipulation, Fluff, Smut,

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: Hello and welcome, formally, to part four. I hope you all had a lovely weekend and have an amazing week! I love you all very much.

Madness Masterlist

Bad Dream Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

You sit nervously on the lip of the bathtub, picking at the skin around your thumbnail as you wait for the timer to ring.

It feels like it’s been hours already.

“It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry. If it isn’t positive, we’ll just keep trying.”

Steve's words don’t ease your anxiety the way he thinks they do.

Your eyes are trained on the timer, counting down the seconds, though you already have a feeling of what the tests are going to say.

The alarm sounds like war drums and you’re racing for the row of sticks on the bathroom counter, your heart dropping into your stomach as you inspect them.

Positive.

Every single one of them.

Tears fill your eyes and you bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.

There it goes.

Your last shred of hope for gaining freedom. Out the window, just like that.

Steve’s arms come up around your shoulders, hugging you tightly.

“I knew it. I just... I knew. You smell different, your breasts are bigger. I fucking knew it.”

He nudges his nose against your cheek until you finally tilt your head back, and then his lips are on yours.

You don't fight him, too hopeless to even try anymore.

Your tears are salty, you can taste them on his lips, but he doesn’t seem bothered at all by them. No, he still kisses you, walks you out of the bathroom towards the bed.

He helps you out of your clothes, his hands groping and squeezing every inch of you as if he’s never felt you before, as if you’re the first woman he’s touched in forever.

The tears are steady, continuing down your face as he pushes you gently onto the bed, his lips trailing over your inner thighs while his eyes raise to yours.

“We’re gonna have another baby, honey. I always knew your body was perfect. Absolutely made for me. And now you’re gonna give me another baby. You’re gonna grow all nice and round...” He trails off, his eyes dark and full of lust as he gazes down at your stomach as if picturing you pregnant again.

“C’mon, darling. We need to celebrate.” He sheds his clothes so that you’re both naked, his warm body pressed tightly against yours, though it does little to quell the shivers of distress rolling down your spine.

Pregnant. Again.

He places kiss after kiss onto your neck, trailing down to your breasts and halting there.

“Can’t wait for you to be nice and big again, all full and round because of me. Fuck, can’t wait ‘till you start makin’ milk again, honey.”

His lips latch around your nipple, sucking hard enough to make your back arch, a whine of pain and pleasure rolling out of your mouth.

“That’s it. M’gonna make you feel nice, honey. Gonna make you feel loved. You know I love you, huh? Yeah. I do.”

His words make your stomach twist in uncomfortable knots, and you close your eyes to avoid the intensity of his gaze. You focus instead on the feel of his body against yours, nice and warm and heavy.

One of his hands snakes between your legs, toying with your clit and dipping into your heat to prepare you for his cock.

“Getting all wet and messy for me, huh?” Your eyes remain shut, blocking out his face, the face of the man who’s done so many atrocious things to you.

He thrusts his fingers in and out rather slowly, dragging them against your sensitive walls until he deems you ready enough for him, though there’s no way to truly be ready for him.

He positions himself between your legs, perched on his haunches while his hands rub over your thighs gently.

“Can’t wait for you to have my baby, sweetheart. Gonna watch you get all nice and full, bring another life into this world for me. That’s what you’re here for, darling.”

He slides his manhood through your folds, coating himself in your essence before slowly pushing into you, forcing every inch into your tight wet heat.

Your mouth drops open, brows pulling together at the stretch of him so deep inside of you, pushing against every resistance your body brings forth. He forces himself into you until he’s seated comfortably, cock held tightly by your fluttering walls.

“Fuck, feel that. Feel you. So tight... tight ‘n wet. Fuck... Fuck...”

He pulls back then pushes in, each thrust slow and precise and far too good. You hate how good he makes you feel, how well he knows your body. You hate how good you feel beneath him, how right it feels to be with him, to be held in his arms.

And you fucking hate him for making you enjoy a single second of time spent with him.

His thrusts speed up until he’s hammering his hips into yours, each movement of his hips forcing his cock to press against your cervix painfully, but the pain is welcome.

It’s what you deserve for enjoying it.

A soft moan falls from your lips when he drops his hand between your legs, fingers working your clit with practiced ease.

He’s spent months learning and re-learning your body, he knows you almost as well as he knows himself, and if the only way you want him is physically then fine, but he’s going to make that want stronger than your hatred for him.

“O-oh god...” Your eyes squeeze shut as the edge creeps closer, each pass of his thumb on your clit and his cock between your walls bringing it so much nearer.

“You gonna cum for me, honey? Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?” You nod, if only so he doesn’t stop.

“Fuck, you feel so good, darling... so good.” He picks up speed, and you get lost in your orgasm like a leaf in a windstorm.

It picks you up and pulls you from reality. Bliss clouds your mind, your senses, and nothing matters except the rolling waves of pleasure flooding you.

“Just like that, honey... fuck.”

He drops his head into the crook of your neck, breaths hot and damp against your skin as he follows you into the blissful embrace.

His hips stutter to a stop, warmth painting your walls and filling you to the brim, just like he always does.

He pants against you, his mind consumed with obsession, adoration, love. He finally has you back in his arms. Finally gets to rebuild his family, get the happy ending he’s been craving.

He’s not gonna give it up.

You’re right where you belong.

~*~

He waits an absurdly long time before telling anyone.

He doesn’t want anyone to know, especially not Nat. Bucky, sure, he can know, but not Nat. Not after the way she kept so many secrets for so long.

It isn’t until you start showing -about two months after the positive tests- that he finally tells the two of them the good news, inviting them over to help set up the baby's room and have a nice night with his family.

Bucky and Steve have just finished painting the walls yellow, a neutral baby colour that you suggested.

Steve insists that you sit slightly outside the room, even though both windows are open and a fan is going, the paint specifically bought because it’s non-toxic.

But you don’t argue. You’ll sit as far away from them as possible.

Sarah’s in your lap, her eyes focused on the colouring book on the ground in front of her, her tongue poking out between her lips as she tries to stay inside the lines.

“Alright. That’s the crib all done. Honey, you wanna grab us a drink?”

Your head snaps up at Steve’s request, and you nod, rising to your feet and instinctively dropping a hand to your small bump.

“Can I help?” Sarah asks excitedly, bouncing up onto her toes and following you down the stairs.

“Of course. You wanna bring this up to Uncle Bucky?”

You pour two glasses of lemonade, one for the blond and one for the brunet.

“Can I have some?” You nod, grabbing a cup for her as she starts carefully up the stairs with the glass.

“Need a hand?” You stiffen, eyes slowly raising to the redhead’s.

“No.”

She sighs, taking a seat at the counter.

“Just hear me out, (Y/n), please. I just... I just wanna explain. Please.” You grind your teeth together at her.

“What could you possibly have to say to me? How could you possibly explain the way you betrayed me? Betrayed Sarah? You got my dad killed, Natasha, and now I’m pregnant again.”

She looks so lost, so desperate, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s her fault you’re here.

"Just please, (Y/n). Please.” There’s nothing you can really do to stop her. It’s obvious that Bucky and Steve would side with her over you in a heartbeat.

“I never breathed a single word of your whereabouts to anyone, I swear. Not even my therapist. I swear on my life, (Y/n) I never told anyone where to find you.”

You look up at her and shake your head.

“You were the only other person who knew where we were hiding.”

She lets out a shaky breath and looks away from your eyes.

“After what happened at the cabin I started going to therapy. Saw a good therapist who helped me get through a lot of stuff. James was going to therapy too, we were getting better together.”

You don’t think any therapy in the world will change the fact that James Barnes is a monster through and through, but you don’t say that to her. No, you let her continue.

“I started getting better. James did too. We got back to work, to helping people, being the good guys.”

She pauses, sniffling then scrubbing at her cheek.

“I told him that uh, one of my friends had a baby and that spending time around them made me want one too. It upset me because that... that’s a dream that I’ll never be able to have. Or, I thought it was.” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, but it lacks any positive emotions behind it.

“He told me about this experimental procedure that they started doing in Switzerland. Reversals for female sterilization. Highly experimental but... he said I should give it a shot. The worst that would happen would be... well... no worse than what I’ve had to live with for most of my life.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, not in defiance but in comfort. Self-comfort, and for a moment you feel bad for her.

“I talked it over with Bucky. Told him about how much I wanted a baby, a little mini version of him or I, and he was on board. Said he wished I told him sooner.” She chuckles, shaking her head fondly at the memory.

“That’s when I left for that while, remember?” You nod.

She missed Christmas and you were only slightly devastated at having to spend the holiday alone.

“I got the procedure done. Was on bed rest for a while after and even after I was given a clean bill of health I... I didn’t want to try. I was too nervous. Afraid that it wouldn't work but more afraid that it would.”

She takes a deep breath, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she recounts the events that occurred leading up to your abduction. Her betrayal.

“It uh... it took three months but we conceived. I was finally pregnant.” She smiles a tearful, wet smile at you and your own eyes prickle with tears as you realize that her story won’t have a happy ending.

Your mind immediately goes to the worst things you can think of, ranging from miscarriage to murder, and you find yourself wanting to call Sarah down away from her father.

“I was ecstatic, (Y/n). I was so fucking happy.” Her eyes are filled with a type of sorrow that you’re far too familiar with. One you’ve felt too much in your short life.

“I told my shrink about it, told him how happy I was. Bucky and I cried together when we found out cause... we were finally gonna be parents. That’s around the time when I started coming by more often. What, sic months ago? Yeah, right around then. I uh, I wanted to wait until I was showing more to tell you, but...” She trails off, her face falling even more and tears trailing down her cheeks.

“That’s around the same time when Bucky started seeing Steve more. Spent less and less time at home with me and more time with Steve. I uh, got a call one day from his therapist, asking if everything was okay because she hadn’t seen him in weeks. That’s when I knew something wasn’t right. We hadn’t spoken to Steve since the cabin incident and then Bucky was spending every waking moment with him.”

She stops speaking, her fingers trembling and her bottom lip wobbling.

“What happened to the baby?” You ask softly, needing to know who hurt her, who caused it.

She exhales deeply and slowly opens her eyes.

“I uh, I guess Bucky must’ve told him. And uh... if Steve can’t have his happily ever after then no one can.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

“What did he do?”

She doesn’t answer right away. No, instead she picks at her fingers for a long moment.

“Did you know... that drinking certain teas can cause a miscarriage? Because I didn’t.” You furrow your brows, trying to figure out what she means until it dawns on you.

“He made you drink it?” You’re not sure which ‘he’ you’re talking about, but you know it must’ve been at least one, if not both of them.

“The last time I uh, set foot in this house before that dinner we had together... he invited us over for drinks and to watch the game. He made me some tea and asked me why I thought it was okay to keep secrets from him. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time but... that hardly matters. A few days later I started bleeding. A lot. I was in the infirmary for days on end only to find out that he’d poisoned my baby.”

She sniffles again and wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“After that, he didn’t trust me, only trusted Bucky. Went to my therapist and took his notes, beat answers out of him when he refused to speak. I’m assuming they bugged me o-or something. Or followed my licence plate, searched through my history to figure it out."

Her candy apple green eyes meet yours, vibrant and staring directly into your soul with passion and fire rivalling that of a forest fire.

“I never breathed a single word of you or Sarah to anyone. Steve figured it out on his own, after almost killing my therapist, and killing my baby. I never said anything, I swear. On the life of my child, I didn’t say a thing.”

Your breaths come in shallow bursts, anxiety spiking as you shake your head.

“I-I don’t...” She puts a gentle hand on your shoulder and nods, guiding you towards the couch.

“I’m sorry. But that’s... that’s the truth. Steve is a monster, and he’s got Bucky following him mindlessly. I don’t... I don’t know what to do or who to turn to.”

You open your mouth to speak, but the sound of feet trudging down the stairs cuts you off.

“Everything alright down here?” Steve asks, reaching for his glass of lemonade but pausing when he sees the look of distress on your face.

His eyes flutter between you and Nat before he takes a seat beside you, grabbing your hand gently in his.

“Honey? You okay?”

You shake your head, trying to rid it of the overwhelming thoughts.

“Mommy?” The three of you look up as Sarah bounds down the stairs, climbing into your lap.

“Where’s my juice?” You pick her up and rest her on your hip as you stand up, walking into the kitchen to grab her cup of juice and distance yourself from the people on the couch.

Bucky comes down the stairs next, confused and wondering where everyone went.

His eyes find Natasha’s first, the poorly masked sorrow colouring her features, and his heart aches.

Sarah drinks her lemonade quickly, making a loud ‘ahh’ sound once she’s devoured the last drop.

“Can we have pizza for dinner?” She asks eagerly, looking up at you with big blue eyes.

You swallow hard then nod, your eyes slowly raising to Steve’s as he walks over to you.

“Pizza?” You ask softly, turning back to your daughter when he nods.

“Of course.” She squeals excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck and hugging you tightly.

You hug her closer to your body, burying your face in her hair as a tear slips down your cheek.

You knew he was a bad man, but you never thought he’d hurt a child. That would’ve been his niece or nephew, a friend for Sarah and your new baby. But no, he decided that Natasha didn’t deserve her happy ending, neither did Bucky.

Natasha is one of the few friends you’ve ever had, and the fact that he’d hurt her that way, kill off her one dream, is disgusting.

It makes you wonder what he’ll do to you, or even Sarah.

You thought hurting kids was something Steve would never do, but now you’re not so sure.

#Steve rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #dark!fic #dark!steve #dark!fanfiction #steve x reader dark fic #stucky x reader dark fic #Steve rogers x reader dark fic #dark fic #Steve Rogers x reader dark au #trigger warning #tw: rape #tw: miscarriage #trigger warning: miscarriage #miscarriage #Dark au #marvel dark au #marvel dark fic

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

VALERIE - Part IX. (Harry Styles)

yall are gonna hate me for this but it needed to be done IM SORRY! also, i can’t believe valerie is ending this week, just one more part to go! can’twait to read your reactions and thoughts on this part, even though i know yall gonna be upset lmao

word count: 5.6k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Some days it truly feels like the universe has plotted against you to make every possible thing go wrong. As if it wants to see just how much you can take before breaking, experiment how long it can dance on your nerves before you end up one of those crazy people who shout at random strangers on the bus for no actual reason.

Starting the day you overslept awfully leaving you only ten minutes before you had to leave. In your hurry you ended up putting on socks that do not match and you were forced to buy a sandwich on your way as breakfast, but you promised you wouldn’t buy packed sandwiches for a reason, this one tasted like it’s been sitting on the shelf for weeks. Maybe it really has been.

You made it to work successfully, but then you realized that you’ve left your notebook at home, the one that had quite a lot of important information you need for your work, so you spent your first hour at work emailing different people for things you should now, explaining that you just left your notebook at home. Some didn’t really give a fuck and just answered you normally, but others didn’t shy away from commenting that you should be more responsible and careful.

This alone gave just the perfect foundation for the day. It was all downhill from then. Your boss loaded twice as much work on you than usually, everything with close deadlines, throwing even more anxiety into the mix as if you didn’t have enough already.

You met up with Marcus at lunch, but that didn’t go as planned either. It’s been getting more and more frustrating with him, the two of you have already had at least five fights this week and it’s only wednesday. It seems like even the smallest things push you over the edge these days and you easily pick a fight over anything. It didn’t happen differently this time either and by the time you got back to the office you were fuming. Worst part is that you always have a hard time ending a fight and tend to continue it through texts, the same thing happened today as well.

Now it’s a few minutes past five and you’re getting ready to go home, get changed and head to family dinner since today is Valerie’s first birthday, but even on the bus you’re still furiously typing away on your phone, sending a reply to Marcus, wanting nothing more than to throw the device right ot the window.

At one point you decide you’ve had enough. Turning your phone off you sink it into the depth of your bag and just try to focus on breathing, because even the smallest things seem to be hard tasks in such an upsetting state of mind.

These past few weeks things have taken an absurdly wrong turn between you and Marcus and you don’t know what to do about the whole situation. Every night you go to bed thinking that you should just let go of him, would do a favor for the both of you, but then that stupid little voice in the back of your mind tells you that if you break up with Marcus it’s game over for you, you’ll spend the rest of your life alone. It all ends up with you violently holding onto the pieces of what’s left from your relationship and you’ve been trying to figure out where it went wrong, but you have absolutely no idea.

After you changed into a pair of light washed jeans, a bright orange sweater and your black leather jacket it’s time for you to leave, though you already know you’ll be late. With a sigh deep you decided to turn your phone back on when you were sitting in the Uber, immediately deleting the notifications about the messages Marcus left you and going straight for the few ones from Rosa, your mom and Harry. They all arrived not too long ago asking when you’d be arriving, so you quickly typed your sorry and told them you’re on your way, you just got caught up at work. For Harry, you add something else too:

“Save me a seat and order me a tequila.”

His response came quickly.

“Done. Both.”

You let out a chuckle seeing his message. He knows you too well.

Walking into the small restaurant you don’t have a hard time spotting your family, three tables have been pushed together to make enough room in the back, taking up the small, kind of separated area of the place. Rosa smiles widely when she spots you, Valerie standing on her thighs, hands on the table as she is trying to snatch one of the glasses away, but her dad is pushing it further from her grasp.

“Sorry for being late,” you huff out and take the seat right next to Harry who watches you with a smile. “Well hello there, birthday girl! You’re so big now!” you babble at Valerie who giggles at you before her attention is averted once again.

You feel Harry’s elbow poking your side and turning to him you see him nod at the two shots on the table.

“Oh, fantastic. You’re drinking too?”

“No, I’m driving. Both for you.”

“If I didn’t have such a shitty day I would question what kind of alcoholic you think I am, but I kinda need both,” you sigh, taking the first one and downing it faster than ever. From the corner of your eyes you see your mother’s disapproving look, but you decide to ignore it for now.

“Wanna talk about it?” Harry asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry, but you shake your head, the alcohol still burning your throat.

“Not now. Can you give me a lift home tho?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning back to the conversation at the table.

You somehow succeed in putting everything that happened today behind and just focus on the time spent with your family. It helps that seemingly Harry works hard all evening to tell you about random things, just occupying your thoughts as much as he can. It’s nice to relax a little and forget everything that’s been weighing down on your shoulders recently.

“It’s so crazy she is one already,” you sigh when you and Harry are walking to his car.

“Right? It makes me feel incredibly old,” Harry huffs as he fishes his car keys out of his pocket.

“How old are you even?” you ask laughing, realizing you don’t even know how old he exactly is. There are quite a few things, small details you’ve just never gotten around to find out about Harry.

“I’m turning 27 in February. Wild, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

“Yeah, you’re basically a grandpa,” you tease him and he narrows his eyes at you, but you can’t miss the little smile hiding in the corners of his mouth.

“That makes you a grandma, because you’re turning 25 in April, don’t you?”

“You know when my birthday is?” It takes you by surprise, you don’t remember ever telling him when your birthday is.

The two of you reach his car and he clears his throat unlocking it. Seems like he doesn’t really want to answer, but your burning gaze on him kind of forces him into it.

“Uh, I do. I wanted to meet up with Steven last year the day you had your birthday party, but he said he had plans already. Tried to lure him into cancelling, but he didn’t even want to share where he was going. Then he admitted that it was your birthday party, but you told him and Rosa not to even mention it to me so I don’t show up.”

Your stomach drops hearing his version of a story you’ve only known from your own point of view. You remember that you indeed told them not to tell Harry about it, but now it seems like such a hate crime, when in real life, it was still when the two of you hated each other with passion.

“I’m… Harry I’m sorry. That was--”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles at you, starting the car. “We left it all behind, didn’t we?”

His smile seems genuine, but you still feel guilty for being such a bitch. It reminded you how much time and energy the two of you wasted for years hating each other when you could have been just like you are now. If only things happened in a different way…

Arriving at your building Harry parks the car and stops it. As the engine stops, the silence that’s been thickening the air just becomes even more obvious. He is waiting for you to say something about what’s gotten you so upset today, you know that, but you don’t feel like sitting around in his car.

“Want to come up for a little bit?” you ask and it’s a hidden message that you want to talk in the comfort of your own home. Luckily, Harry understands it right away and nodding he tells you to lead the way.

You make some tea and the two of you sit on your couch, Harry is sitting sideways so he can see you while you bring your knees up to your chest, staring down at the mug in your hands.

“I had a fight with Marcus,” you quietly start.

“Oh.”

“And… it wasn’t the first time. We’ve been constantly fighting lately and I’m just… so tired of it.”

Saying it out loud for the first time, having someone listen to you brings you an odd sense of relief, and it doesn’t feel weird that you’re talking to Harry about all of it. He has proven himself to be a great listener.

“We’ve been fighting constantly, over the smallest things and my… my patience is running short, at this point.”

You’re talking slowly, carefully putting your thoughts into words, trying your best to interpret them for Harry after boiling them only in your own head for so long.

“I just… I have no idea what I should do.”

“It seems like the relationship is not making you happy anymore,” Harry softly speaks up and you have nothing to bring up against what he just said. “So why are you trying to continue it?”

You were expecting the question, you just knew he would ask it, but it still brings a painful, stinging sensation into your chest as you try to find the words to answer him.

“Because…” you breath out and slowly turning your head, your eyes meet his gaze. “If I can’t make it work with him… then… who is it gonna be? There’s this voice in my head that keeps telling me, that he is literally my last choice, that if I mess this up it’s gonna be over for me.”

“Y/N, you know that’s not true,” Harry tells you tilting his head.

“Do I?” you chuckle bitterly, turning your gaze to the ceiling before you look back at him. “Because I don’t think I do. I’ve been literally feeling so miserable for weeks, yet I still can’t get me to move on, because I think I’m gonna die alone.”

“That’s not gonna happen, don’t say that. You’ll find the right person for you, you just… have to be patient.”

“But that’s the thing. I have lost my patience. I’m done, over it.” The tears form in your eyes in just a few seconds and the next thing you know is that you’re crying. “I’ve been trying so hard in my whole life, but somehow I always ended up… not being enough, or thrown away, stepped over, left behind. No matter what I did, I always ended up alone and I can’t help but notice a pattern in it. It has to be me, what else?”

“It’s not you, okay? You just had a few bad experiences.”

“Not a few,” you huff closing your eyes. “All of them are bad. I was… I was never enough for anyone and now that I found a guy that seemed to be just perfect… I’m ruining it.”

“I don’t think you’re ruining anything.”

“Then explain to me what’s happening, Harry!” you snap in despair and Harry stares back at you at a loss of words at first.

“Do you have feelings for him?” he then asks. You can’t answer right away and it tells him a lot.

“I… I’m not sure.”

“That sounded more like a no.”

“Okay, alright. No, I don’t. But… I could develop feelings eventually, couldn’t I?”

“That’s not how it works, Y/N. You can’t just torture yourself hoping that one day you wake up and you’ll be in love with him. It’s not gonna happen and you’re just wasting your time.”

“How do you know it’s not gonna happen? What makes you so sure of that I will not end up alone?”

Harry stays quiet, her green eyes are staring right into your soul and for a moment you forget about your misery. This man alone holds such a power over you, it’s starting to scare you.

“I know it, because… I know you. And I see you. You’re literally the funniest girl I know, so easy to talk with, you always know when to crack a joke and when you have to be serious. You have so much love for others, you care about your loved ones and you’re always there for your friends and family. You make it so easy for others to get comfortable around you and you make everyone feel safe around you.”

You listen to him intently, drinking up every word that leaves his lips. Harry looks down at his hands as he continues.

“And you’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful, it always baffles me when I see you.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“It’s the truth,” Harry chuckles lightly, he brushes his knuckles together nervously. “Every time you walk in, you just… make everyone turn their head at you, and I always wonder if you even notice that. The way you walk, your smile, your laugh, Y/N, you make every man go crazy about you.”

“You’re just saying that because you are trying to cheer me up,” you sniff, wiping a few more tears away from your eyes.

“I’m definitely not,” he chuckles and his eyes finally find yours. “I remember when we first met.”

“When you walked in on me changing,” you sigh, the memories living vividly in your mind.

“Yeah. I remember how… breathless I felt when I saw you standing there, your dress handing a little on your frame because of the zipper. I forgot my name for a moment. I offered to help with the zipper because I just… wanted to touch you in any kind of way. So I knew that you were real.”

“Harry…”

“I know this sounds made up, but I’m telling you, this is the truth. And I know I didn’t act like that for a long time, but I always thought that you were an amazing person and I know that any guy would be so lucky and incredibly happy to be with you. I hate the thought of you thinking otherwise of yourself, when you are literally such a delight and… just a gift to all of us. I don’t know what’s really been going on between you and Marcus, but if he can’t see your worth and can’t make you feel like you deserve… he is not worthy of your time.”

You feel your throat closing up, but you’re not sure Harry knows the reason behind it when the tears start rolling down your cheeks again.

Because it might look like his words touched you and made you tear up, but in reality, a bittersweet feeling has taken completely over you. If this is how he thinks about you, why did he act like that when he had the chance to be with you? Why didn’t he want you to stay? What did you do that made him want to throw you out?

It’s a spiral straight down and you can’t stop yourself from falling. Harry has always been the biggest mystery of your life, and now you’re just even more sure it was something you did or said that made him want to run.

He reaches out and easily scoops you into his arms and you let him hold you tight, face buried into his chest. You hold onto his shirt as the silent cries escape your lips. You want him to want you. You want him to mean all those things he just told you, but you just can’t seem to move on from the past even though you’ve agreed to forget about it. It keeps bugging you in the back of your mind that no matter what he says, you weren’t good enough to make him want to stay with you when he had the chance.

***

It doesn’t get better after that night. Harry stayed until after midnight, made sure you got into bed and told you he’ll check in on you the next day. And so he did.

You felt guilty for loading all of it on Harry, so you decided it was the last time you ever talked about Marcus or your love life in general with him. You easily made yourself believe that he didn’t really care about it and he just listened to you because he was trying to be nice. It seemed the best to just try and forget about it all.

For a while you were contemplating breaking up with Marcus, but you didn’t have the strength to do it, telling yourself you have to give it another chance and some more patience. However it’s ending up to be quite draining, you gotta admit, but you are starting to get used to feeling numb every day.

Rosa invites you over, because she went through her closet and found some stuff she thought you’d like, so you head over not long after you get home from work. She mentioned that Harry would be over watching some kind of football game with Steven, so you are not surprised to see his car parking on their driveway.

“Hi guys!” you greet them when Rosa lets you in, the game is already on so they just wave in your way, intently watching the TV.

“Come on, I have everything in the bedroom,” Rosa nods in your way and you follow her upstairs. Valerie greets you with a loud shriek as you walk in, she is sitting in her crib, surrounded with a bunch of toys, seemingly having a great time.

“Hi there, Princess!” you coo at her, caressing her cheek before you sit on the edge of the bed that’s filled with piles of clothes. “What’s the big sorting?” you ask, grabbing a cardigan and taking a look at it.

“I just have way too much stuff, can’t fit new stuff into my wardrobe, so I needed to sort it all out.”

The two of you go through everything and just catch up while you try on what you like. At the end, you are just sitting on the bed playing with Valerie. You can tell there’s something Rosa wants to share, but she seems reserved about saying it out loud.

��So, the other day we were talking with Steven about how crazy it is that Val is over one year old,” she starts, eyes glued to the little girl, handing her another building block as Valerie works on… whatever it’s going to be when it's finished.

“Yeah, that’s what we talked about with Harry after her birthday dinner. Makes us feel old,” you chuckle.

“Exactly,” she sighs chuckling. “So then we talked about, maybe… having another kid sometime soon.”

You perk up and looking at Rosa you see the shy smile on her lips and you gasp, but she shakes her head.

“I’m not pregnant,” she assures you, but then adds: “Not yet.”

“Oh my God, so you’re trying for another baby?” you whisper, even though there’s no chance of the guys hearing the two of you. You can hear the sound of the TV up here, they have no clue what you’re talking about.

“I mean, it can take some time, so we thought we could… start now.”

“That’s fantastic!” you breathe out, truly happy for your sister. You just know Valerie will be such a good big sister. “Val, you want a baby sister or baby brother?” you ask her and she looks at you with a serious expression, holding out one of the blocks.

“Baba!” she exclaims.

“Yes, baba!” you chuckle. She’s been learning kind of real words lately and it won’t take too long before she’ll be bossing around everyone in the house.

When it’s getting late you pack the clothes you choose and head down to leave. The guys are still on the couch, but Harry’s head perks up when he hears your footsteps.

“You want me to give you a ride?”

“Um, I’m fine, don’t want to bother you while the game is on.”

“It’s ending in five. If you can wait a little it’s alright.”

“Okay,” you nod smiling so instead of going to the front door you stop in the kitchen to wait for Harry.

Rosa puts Valerie into her high chair and gets a banana for her while you check your phone just when Marcus calls you. Hesitantly, but you answer it.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi, just wanted to check in if the weekend is still on.”

“Uh, sure. It is.”

“Great. I’ll have to check again with my boss, but I think I’ll be able to pick you up.”

“Great. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, babe.”

The call ends and you find yourself facing a curious looking Rosa on the other side of the kitchen island.

“Marcus?” she asks and you nod. “How are things going?” You’ve only mentioned it to her that it’s been hard between the two of you, but you definitely didn’t go into details. Harry was the first and last person to hear the whole story.

“Um… neutral, I guess?”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I know, but I’m just trying to figure it out. We are spending the weekend together, I hope it’ll help us to get a little more… settled? I guess, I don’t know,” you stammer, nervously fidgeting with your phone in your hands.

“That’s nice, was it his idea?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s good to know that Marcus is making the right attempts to smooth things out.”

“Attempts?” Harry’s voice makes both of you look in his way as he stands at the door, seemingly confused about what he just heard. “You’re still with Marcus?”

“Harry, I…”

“No, don’t try to explain it. I thought I talked sense into you last time.” He is clearly pissed, not holding back how upset he is to get the news that you are still dating Marcus. But on the other hand you can also feel yourself getting angry how he tries to control your life.

“You did, but I never said I’ll break things off with him.”

“Well, it surely sounded like you made up your mind,” he huffs.

“Well, I didn’t,” you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest.

“What the fuck, Y/N! You can’t keep doing this to yourself!” he snaps gesturing in your way. “I thought we were over this!”

“We? What do you mean we?” you grimace and now you are raising your voice as well. “Harry, there’s no we! This is my relationship and it’s nice that you care, but you can’t tell me what to do!”

Harry is vivid. He needs everything in him not to burst right then and there and for a moment you think he’s gonna just explode. But when he speaks up again his voice is quiet, however you can feel all the anger and frustration behind it.

“Get in the car, we’re leaving.”

“What?”

“Get in the fucking car, Y/N!” he barks making you jump. Rosa and Steven, who arrived to the kitchen in the middle of this madness, are just watching the scene unfold, completely unable to even say a word.

Slowly, you slide off the stool and grabbing the bag filled with clothes you turn to Rosa.

“Thanks for… these,” you mumble before walking out, Harry following you right behind.

Nothing is said as the two of you get into the car, Harry is clearly on the verge of anger outburst, but you’re pretty upset yourself. The drive back to your place is painfully quiet, but you can’t stop staring at his hands gripping the wheel. HIs fingers and knuckles are turning white from the way he is basically crushing the wheel in his hold. You wouldn’t be surprised if it had his grip’s imprint on it by the time you arrive to your building.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he snaps once the car is parked.

“Would you stop pretending like you have a saying in what I do?”

“I do have a saying in it! Because when you break again I’ll be the one picking you up from the ground!”

“Well, sorry it’s such an inconvenience to be my friend. But don’t worry, I won’t come to you again,” you snap back with a grimace and try to open the door, but it’s locked. “Let me out, Harry!”

“Fuck no, not until we talk about this,” he scoffs and it’s the last straw for you.

“There’s nothing to talk about! It’s none of your business, Harry! Stop pretending like you care!”

“I do care!” he shouts back so forcefully you are taken aback, sinking into your seat. “Of course I fucking care! How would I not?! I care about you so fucking much, how do you not see it?!”

At this point, you’re certain Harry has lost all self control and he is about to load he has been holding back out on you, while you’re just sitting there, staring at him completely speechless over how his whole being is filled with anger and fury.

“Stop fucking telling me that I don’t care when all I think about is you! Every damn day! I can’t fucking stop thinking about you, because every time my mind snaps right back to you when I’m trying to think about something else! Do you know how fucking painful it is?! See you fucking waste your time with that dickhead when I want to be with you?!”

Eyes widened you forget to even breathe as the words leave his lips and soon enough realization hits him hard about what he just said. His chest is violently waving, eyes staring straight ahead. Next time he speaks up the shouting is over, he is clearly shocked at his own behavior.

“Y/N, I-- what you told me last time, about ending up alone, that wasn’t the first time you told me all of that.”

“What?” you gasp.

“You broke down the same way at the wedding. Told me all about how you think you are just simply unlovable and will probably die alone.” His eyes snap down at his hands on his lap as he continues. “I was shocked how you’d ever think that way about yourself, because I was… I was already falling in love with you and I barely just met you that night. I couldn’t imagine what happened to you that made you believe that nonsense. I never felt like that with anyone else before and it was so fucking scary. Every time you looked at me or touched me, I could feel… the sparks. The fucking sparks, Y/N,” he lets out a bitter chuckle. “I never believed in that, but you made me feel that way. Then… one thing happened after the other and we were up in my room. I saw the way you looked at me, like I was your fucking everything and I have never experienced that. You fell asleep in my arms and I told myself that this is exactly how I want to spend the rest of my life.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you listen in complete shock as Harry is still avoiding to look at you.

“I wanted to be the person who shows you how lovable and amazing you are, how worthy you are to be loved. Like I found my mission all of a sudden.”

“Then what the fuck happened in the morning?” you ask choking out the words. Harry finally turns to face you and you see his watery eyes. He was crying.

“You fell asleep and I was just watching you… and I realized that… sooner or later I would do something to hurt you. Because that’s what I always do and I didn’t want that. You didn’t deserve that, but I just knew I won’t be able to give you what you wanted and needed. And you told me all about how you just want to be loved and… I didn’t want to disappoint you in any way.”

He rubs his eyes turning back to look straight ahead and you see his lips tremble before he speaks up again.

“I said all those stuff so you’d have a reason to hate me and you wouldn’t try to stay with me.”

“This is literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you chuckle bitterly as the tears keep rolling down your cheeks. “Do you have any idea how fucking horrible I felt after that? I felt so ashamed for fucking weeks, Harry!”

“I-I know. I mean, I figured.”

“You made me feel unwanted and dirty, it took me so long to build my confidence back and be able to think of myself as more than just some used rug that was thrown out!”

Harry sits there in complete silence and just lets you load everything out on him, because he knows that’s what he deserves. He has tried to punish himself in so many different ways for what he did to you, but he knew he had to face you someday. Now the time has come and he is done trying to run away from the consequences of his actions in the past.

“I was blaming myself all this time, thinking that I must have done something wrong, when in reality it was you! It was fucking you!”

“I know, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean it to end like this.”

“You didn’t mean it to end like this?” you snap. “You literally continued to treat me like shit for years! If it wasn’t for Valerie, you’d still be a complete dick to me! And what was your intention with this now, huh? Why did you tell me all of this now?!”

“Because I couldn’t stop… seeing you be so unhappy with someone who clearly doesn’t deserve you in any way. I’m selfish and I realized that I made a mistake, but I now know what I should have done, because…” He finally turns to face you again, you see a tear roll down his cheek as he takes a deep breath before continuing. “I love you. I love you, Y/N, and I’m fucking done pretending like I don’t.”

You stare back at him, breath caught in your throat and it’s the breaking point. You reach over to his side and unlock the doors so you can open yours and you jump out of the car wanting to get as far away from him as possible. He can’t just throw all of this on you after everything the two of you went through, that’s not how it works. Does he even mean it? How are you supposed to believe him after years of hatred?

You try to get inside the building, but he is quick to catch up with you, he grabs your upper arm and pulls back, but you yank his hold away.

“Where are you going?!” he snaps towering above you.

“Home. And don’t fucking touch me!”

“But I literally just told you I love you, you’re not gonna say anything about that?”

At first you plan on not even answering, you make your way towards the door, but then you change your mind. Turning around you unload on him once again.

“You don’t have the right to tell me you love me! Not after all the shit I took from you! How am I supposed to believe it when you literally made me feel like shit for all these years, saying the meanest stuff to me every damn time we met! I was avoiding you like the plague because I can’t even count how many times you made me cry calling me names and treating me so fucking horrible! No, you are not just gonna waltz in here, tell me that I have to break up with my boyfriend because you’ve been in love with me all along. I don’t fucking believe you, Harry. So stay the fuck away from me,” you tell him and push your way inside. This time he doesn’t follow.

By the time you reach your front you’re sobbing, barely seeing from your own tears. With shaking hands you unlock the door and get inside shutting the door behind you before you collapse on the floor.

Harry lives in delusion if he thinks he can just unload all of this on you and make everything right magically. Not after more than three years of the shit you took from him. How are you supposed to believe that he is telling the truth? If he loved you all along, how could he treat you like that? That’s not what love should feel like. All those countless times when you came home after seeing him and you couldn’t help but cry after some of his meanest comments… and now he is trying to make you believe he did it all to protect you from him? Bullshit.

It doesn’t work like that and now he is gonna have to face the consequences of his actions.

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astoldbygingersnaps · 3 years

Text

#wip wednesday

it’s me, ya boy, back with Yet Another New Project!

this time, i bring you the beginnings of a oneshot dreamt up by alexa continuing to fan the flames of my shiita brainrot. enjoy!

There are very few moments in Itachi’s life that he can point to and say that he felt truly content. Many of them are from his childhood, small snatches of memory that involve his mother’s cooking or his brother’s laugh. One or two even contain his father, tiny blips of interaction where the man’s unbearable expectations and slavish dedication to duty had slipped away to reveal the human heart beating deep within him. But Itachi would be lying if he tried to claim that the majority of those moments did not include the friend that is currently sitting beside him.

This, however, is not one of those moments.

Currently they’re on the outskirts of Konoha’s vast forests, the coverage against the afternoon sun thinning as the leaves wither in the crisp, autumn air. A gentle breeze rolls through, not harsh enough to chill but the current rakes its way through Shisui’s hair, making it even more unkempt than usual. Itachi’s keenly aware of this fact, and of Shisui’s general presence, as the man has himself wedged close to Itachi, his head resting on Itachi’s knees as he prattles on about Itachi’s least favorite subject: his love life.

It’s a fascinating contrast, the image of Shisui thoughtlessly draped over Itachi as he drives the knife that is his sexual history deeper and deeper between Itachi’s ribs. But it’s not a wound that Itachi holds Shisui accountable for, not really. Painful though it may be, it’s not as if Shisui is thoughtless or intentionally cruel; it’s merely a side-effect of Itachi’s most closely guarded--and frankly most terrifying--secret.

Often, Itachi has considered telling Shisui the truth, fantasized about what the various outcomes of such an action would be. Still, each time he’s come close to confessing, the words sitting precariously on the very tip of his tongue, Itachi swallows them down like a bitter taste. After all, there’s just no neat and tidy way to say, “I’ve loved you since we were children.” So, Itachi says nothing at all, day after day, month after month, year after year.

“Are you even listening to me?” Shisui asks, in the whiny tone of voice he always gets when Itachi isn’t giving him his full attention. On any other person, it would be an annoying affectation, but Shisui has a way of making even his worst traits charming.

Yet another truth Itachi refuses to tell him. “I’m riveted,” he replies dryly, never taking his eyes off the book in his hand, fighting a smile as Shisui groans in frustration.

“You’re a terrible friend,” Shisui says, his faux-offended expression lingering on the edge of Itachi’s vision, and in response Itachi lifts his book to block out the sight of Shisui completely.

“The worst,” Itachi hums in agreement, finally giving into a laugh when Shisui grabs the novel he’s been only mildly interested in and chucks it out of Itachi’s reach. Raising an eyebrow, Itachi looks at the discarded tome, its pagings rustling in the breeze, before glancing back at Shisui. “A bit excessive, don’t you think?”

“How come we never have these conversations about your romantic woes?” Shisui retorts, and the question is so unexpected and uncomfortable Itachi feels the neutral mask of his features start to crack.

“What?”

Watching him critically, Shisui sits up, resting his cheek in his palm as he leans more of his weight across Itachi’s body. “I’m serious. All the times you’ve had to listen to me bitch and moan about this stuff, and not once have you ever chimed in with problems of your own. What gives?”

“Perhaps I don’t believe in kissing and telling,” Itachi replies, tone more clipped than he means it to be. Though he doesn’t resent Shisui for his curiosity, a part of him can’t help but be annoyed that somehow such a finely trained officer doesn’t realize he’s stepped on top of a massive landmine.

Rather than take a moment to read the metaphorical room, however, Shisui presses on with his typical single-minded focus. “Oh, come on,” he argues. “It’s just us, Itachi. You know you can tell me anything.”

Despite his best efforts, Itachi can feel his stomach clenching at the proclamation. For a moment, he weighs the pros and cons of what admitting the truth would be, and is displeased to discover what the best option is. “There’s nothing to tell,” he says, shrugging as if the words don’t mean a thing, and carefully keeps his eyes off Shisui’s face.

The funny thing about Shisui is that, for all his gifts with the Sharingan’s manipulations and illusions, he’s a shockingly open book outside of his profession. Surprise paints itself across his face, all wide eyes and an open mouth, and against his will Itachi feels a flush burning at the base of his throat. “Wait, seriously?” he asks, voice low as if they’re trading secrets of national security rather than engaging in petty gossip.

In response Itachi tugs his legs out from under Shisui, taking an unkind satisfaction in his friend’s grunt as he hits the ground. Still, the movement is, in Itachi’s mind, a tactical retreat; there’s no need to feel physically trapped when Shisui already has his metaphorically pinned down. “I’m gonna kick you.”

“Don’t,” Shisui mutters, whiny again, as he grabs Itachi’s leg with his trademark speed. The touch burns against the bare skin of his ankle, and Itachi shakes him off with a scowl. “I’m not being an asshole--”

“All evidence to the contrary,” Itachi cuts in, annoyed.

Graciously Shisui ignores that and continues, “It’s just surprising, you know? Because you’re… Well, you.”

Itachi feels his stomach twist. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shisui looks at him, and absurdly Itachi feels like an opponent on the wrong side of Shisui’s kunai. “Nothing, I guess,” he eventually offers, quietly, and the statement is so outside of Shisui’s typical cheerful, confident persona that Itachi can’t help but feel profoundly unsettled.

The truth is he’s kept himself guarded in this fashion for a variety of reasons, some he can admit to Shisui and others he’d rather be disemboweled than confess to another living soul. Part of his reluctance stems from the plain fact that he’s simply too busy with other matters to commit to dating of all things. Between his obligation to his village, his devotion to his brother, and his own ambitions at eventually securing the Hokage’s chair, he doesn’t have time to waste on a frivolous matter like courtship.

He also knows that, somewhere down the line, his father will no doubt want to marry him off, eager to pass on the talent and promise of the esteemed Uchiha prodigy. Frankly, the man would have probably done it sooner if he hadn’t felt some gratitude towards his son for working with Shisui to end the feud between their clan and the village, thus granting the Uchiha a much higher standing in Konoha. But at twenty-three, Itachi knows he can’t count on his father’s good graces much longer, meaning the inevitable grows that much closer with each passing day.

The other issue is… a bit more delicate. Itachi’s far too pragmatic to invest in the concept of virginity as something sacred, something special to be shared with exactly the right person at exactly the right time. But it does strike him as unfair to go to bed with a person and offer them a lie instead of himself, knowing that for every moment spent together his thoughts will be firmly locked onto someone he can never have.

Rather than reveal any of that, however, Itachi simply says, “Sex has never been a very high priority of mine.”

“That’s kind of depressing,” Shisui replies. “You should get out there. Play the field, have fun.”

Itachi’s just irritated enough at his continued cross-examination of his personal life that he asks the unthinkable: “Why, are you offering?”

In hindsight, Itachi supposes that after carrying the burden of his feelings for so long such a slip-up was inevitable. But it feels less like an understandable mistake and more like a battlefield miscalculation, one dangerous enough to leave him wide-open to a counterstrike.

That in mind, perhaps it should come as no surprise when Shisui counters, ”Do you want me to?”

to be continued.

#my fic #this is uh. very different than what i usually write #so i'll be v interested in what the feedback will be when it's posted in full #until then!

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bktynes-writes · 4 years

Photo

As per the fantastic advice of the wonderful and amazing Mallory, @valleydean, I made some graphics for my fic, The Blood Of The Covenant. It’s a long, slow burn, Mafia AU, and I have no idea where it’s gonna end up, but I hope you’ll all reblog and join me for the ride. Here is the summary, and the first chapter is under the cut. Read on Ao3.

The Blood Of The Covenant The Winchester Dynasty will never fall.

At least, that’s what John and Mary, heads of the most powerful crime family in the city believe. They have built their empire from nothing, and are willing to do whatever it takes to maintain their control.

When a new family, the Novaks, threaten the delicate balance of power they have maintained for years, the eldest son, Dean, is tasked with infiltrating the ranks of the Novak’s organization to destroy them from the inside.

Dean has always been a soldier in his parent’s wars, never questioning where his loyalties lie, but when he comes face to face with Castiel Novak, one of the sons of the family threatening to destroy his own, he wonders if maybe there could be more to life than he believed. Maybe this blue-eyed stranger can offer him the ticket out he never knew he wanted.

They say that the blood of the covenant runs thicker than the water of the womb, but how do you turn your back on family? Will Dean choose love over loyalty? Will he leave behind all he’s ever known? Or are he and Castiel destined to just be pawns in the war for power that rules the city’s underworld?

Chapter 1: Dinner

The city at night always had a certain charm about it that Dean couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it was the way everything lit up a bit more or the fact that the darkness hid the grime that clung to every surface like a second skin, but the alleyways and culverts of the buildings seemed more inviting when they were filled with shadow.

He loved this city. Every dirty stairwell, every seedy bar, every doorway that led to nowhere, Dean knew them all. He had grown up on these streets, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

The sound of a car horn brought him back to reality, pulling him out of his nostalgic reverie and into the moment. He looked down at his dress shoes, sparkling in the neon lights against the damp pavement, and smiled. If there was one thing Dean Winchester knew how to do, it was dress to impress. His father had instilled in him that first impressions were important at a very young age, and how a man looks could change the direction of any transaction.

Tonight was the first Sunday of the month, which meant dinner with the Family at Cain’s. Dean never looked forward to these dinners - he found them to be mundane - but as the eldest son of the most powerful crime family in the city, he knew his mother and father expected him to attend.

Thus, he found himself in his best suit, pulling open the restaurant’s glass door and striding past the host stand like he owned the place. The young woman there gave him a nervous look, and he shot her his most charming smile, causing her to duck her head as a deep red blush crept up her cheeks. He passed by the other tables and made his way to the back of the restaurant, pointedly ignoring the stares and whispers that followed him from the other patrons. He was used to this behaviour. Anyone who was anyone in the city recognized the Winchesters, and their reputation preceded them.

He made his way past the kitchen, stopping briefly to say hello to Cain, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Dean!” Cain exclaimed, turning around and pulling him into a rib-crushing hug. “I didn’t think you were gonna show! Everyone else is already here.”

Dean laughed. In another life, he would have called him a friend.

But Winchesters didn’t have friends.

“Yeah, I figured they would be.” He said. “What can I say? Fashionably late is kinda my style.” He shrugged and smiled.

“That’s my boy, always gotta make an entrance.” Cain beamed at him. “They’re in the back room. I’ll get your usual added to the order. Hurry up before your dad tears a strip off you!”

“Thanks, Cain,” Dean said. He ducked past him and headed to the very back of the dining room.

Dean could now see the usual suspects gathered around their regular table. He spotted Bobby gruffly speaking to Ellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo. The Harvelles were powerful associates who owned many of the bars and rest stops along the freeway into the city, and Dean’s father liked to keep them close because he had been friends with Ellen’s late husband, Bill.

Ellen was a good source of information for the family. People let information slip that they shouldn’t after a few rounds of shots at one of Ellen’s roadhouses, and she and Jo had ears like bats. Dean was pretty sure the main reason she was included in these clandestine meetings of the family, though, is that his parents, despite their vehement claims otherwise, were a little bit afraid of her. He couldn’t blame them. He had grown up with Jo and, despite being six years older, had had his ass handed to him more times than he could count by the feisty blonde.

Dean chuckled to himself at the memory as he slid quietly into the seat next to his younger brother, Sam.

“You’re late,” stated the younger of the Winchester brothers, his arm draped lazily across his girlfriend Jessica’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I was over at the mill. Gordon owes us and is being…difficult.” He reached for the bottle of wine that sat on the table and filled his glass. He wasn’t usually a fan of wine, but Cain always brought out the good bottles for these meetings, and when he didn’t have to pay, it would be rude to refuse.

“Dad is gonna be pissed.” Said Sam, finishing his own glass and holding it out for Dean to refill.

“No, he won’t,” Dean replied, pouring too much wine into his brother’s glass. “He knows how Gordon is. He’ll just be glad I didn’t break too many of his fingers to get him to agree to pay his dues.”

“Whatever you say, Dean,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. He ran his fingers through his absurdly long hair, and Dean found himself itching to strap his brother into a barber’s chair and order a buzz cut.

A clink of cutlery against glass brought the assembly to silence and drew everyone’s attention to the man standing at the head of the table. John Winchester was an imposing figure at the best of times, and his broad shoulders, clad in the threads of his fine Italian suit, added to his commanding demeanour. His neatly trimmed beard was flecked with grey, as was the perfectly slicked hair on his head. He stood with pride and demanded the respect of those around him with ease.

“Now that my son has finally decided to grace us with his presence, we can call this meeting to order,” John spoke with an air of distaste directed solely at Dean.

“Ah, you know me pops, better late than never,” Dean said nonchalantly. Sam was right; John was pissed.

“Indeed,” said his father coolly.

Dean tuned out most of the ensuing conversations. It was the typical discussion of territory, who was responsible for handling the gang activity on the west side, who was collecting from which businesses for protection owed and whether or not they had paid (Dean received a small nod of approval from John when he informed the table that Gordon would no longer be causing issues).

When the food came, Dean was treated to the most delicious looking plate of carbonara he had ever seen. Cain truly did know the way to his heart. Before he had the chance to dig in, a noise from the opposite end of the table drew everyone’s attention.

A beautiful woman with wavy brown hair rose from the table, and Dean rolled his eyes, huffing dramatically into his chair. Bela Talbot was always trying to draw attention to herself at these meetings, and tonight would be no exception. She wasn’t, strictly speaking, part of the Family, but she was part of a necessary evil alliance that the Winchesters had forged years ago to have hands in the art trade, and Dean had found her to be nothing but a nuisance ever since.

Her words dripped with a caramel sweetness, and despite his intense dislike of the woman, Dean couldn’t help but stare at her as she spoke.

“John. Mary. Dear Winchester Family. It has come to my attention that there appears to be a new family on the North shore. They arrived from New Jersey about six weeks ago and have been a thorn in my side ever since.” She scowled.

“Why hasn’t it been dealt with, Bela?” Asked Sam. “The North shore is your territory, isn’t it?” Sam was flexing his powers a little bit, addressing Bela that way. Usually, it would be up to John to chastise her for not taking care of a threat to their operations, but Dean could see the look of pride in his father’s eyes at Sam stepping in so willingly.

Bela’s face tinged pink slightly at the admonishing tone in Sam’s voice, and she puffed her cheeks out before speaking out again. “Under regular circumstances, Samuel, I would, but it seems that these Novaks are a bit better at playing cat and mouse than I would have anticipated.”

“Novak?” Dean snorted. “What is that, Polish?”

Bela glared at him. “I believe it’s Serbian, actually.”

Dean shrugged and twisted his fork idly in his pasta, hoping she would get to the point before it got cold. Sam continued to address her. “What’s the problem, Bela?”

“They’ve taken out three of my warehouses since their arrival, and the attendance at both the craps game and the pool hall is down by thirty-two percent.” She sighed, and Dean perked up. He almost wanted to shake the hand of anyone who could cause Bela this much distress, but this was clearly an attack on the family’s assets. “Half the shops on Arthur Street aren’t paying their fees because the Novaks have started charging them, and when I sent Ruby over to persuade them, she came back bloody and threatening to skip town.”

Dean’s smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. Ruby was savage in the art of ‘persuasion,’ and he could hardly imagine anyone getting the better of her. He leaned forward, his brow furrowed. A new family trying to start a war with the Winchesters? The last time that had happened, Dean was a teenager, and, much to his dismay, his parents had insisted he not be involved. He had watched helplessly from inside the Catholic boy’s school his father had shipped him to, as his people were shot in the street.

But Dean was in his thirties now, and the prospect of war looming on the horizon made him giddy with anticipation.

Mary Winchester, who had been quietly observing her husband and sons until this point, suddenly cleared her throat, which made all the men at the table sit up a little straighter. She was a fierce-looking woman with high cheekbones, a square jaw, and deep eyes, all framed by locks of cascading blonde curls. It was easy to see where her sons had gotten their charming good looks from.

She sat forward and touched her husband’s forearm gently. “Bela. While I’m sure the loss of your warehouses is devastating, no one would be foolish enough to start a war with our family.” She smiled. “And if Ruby and the girls from Rowena’s can’t handle what is being asked of them, then perhaps it is time to remind them who it is they work for. I’m sure Sam and Dean would be happy to deal with the Novaks, right boys?”

Sam nodded at his mother, and Dean could feel his excitement bubbling. He looked to his brother and saw a dark glint in his eye. The two of them together were unstoppable.

“Anything for you, mother,” Dean said, and he basked in her pride.

“Wonderful,” John said, clapping his hands together, dispelling the tension surrounding the table, and causing Bela to sink back into her seat as her concerns were dismissed. “Now, let’s eat before the food goes cold.”

The rest of the evening dissolved into easy conversation amongst the members of the meeting. Sam laughed wildly at Bobby’s account of a man who he had once held over a woodchipper for his disrespect, even though he had told the story a hundred times. Mary and John spoke quietly with Jessica about her parents and how thrilled they were that her contacts on Broadway would benefit the Winchester dynasty. Dean occupied himself by kicking Jo under the table and watching her face go from mildly irritated to genuinely annoyed as she tried to maintain a discussion with her mother about liquor importing.

When the food and wine had been consumed, John stood again and waited patiently for the conversations to cease. “Thank you all for joining us this evening.” He spoke warmly to everyone. “I trust to see you all again next month.” A chorus of murmured agreement rippled through those assembled. John raised his glass, and everyone else followed suit. “To the family.” He toasted and drained the remaining wine from his glass.

The sound of chairs scraping back from the table filled the small dining room as the Winchesters and their associates made to leave. They passed the other patrons, enjoying their meals and trying obviously not to stare as the finely dressed men and women filed out the front door, thanking Cain with handshakes and smiles as they left.

Dean stepped into the street and stretched, breathing the exhaust soaked air deeply into his lungs and once again being reminded of just how much he loved this city. A large hand dropped heavily onto his shoulder, and he turned to find his gargantuan little brother towering next to him.

“You wanna come over for a beer?” Sam asked casually.

“Nah, man, I was thinking about heading over to Lee’s,” Dean said. His head was foggy from the wine, and he needed some real liquor to bring his senses back.

Sam scowled. “You know, Dad doesn’t like you going out without protection.”

“Always keep a condom in my wallet, Sammy.” Dean winked, and Sam rolled his eyes dramatically.

“That’s not what I mean.” He said. “If Bela is right and the Novaks are looking to start a war, none of us should be going anywhere alone.”

“Oh, is Sam freaking Winchester scared of a few Jersey boys?” Dean snarked at his brother, punching him in the arm playfully. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s Lee’s bar. I’m basically royalty there.”

Jessica appeared at Sam’s side and snaked her arm around his waist. She really was beautiful, far too good for his brother. Dean sometimes wished he had met her first, but he shook the thoughts from his mind. Sam was happy with Jess, and that’s what he deserved.

“Your parents invited us over to look over the blueprints of the new hotel, honey.” She said. “Dean, will you be joining us?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart, but hey, tell 'em to put one of those fancy water features in like they’ve got in Vegas,” Dean replied sarcastically.

Jess smiled at him. “You ready, Sam?”

“Uh, yeah, one second. Why don’t you go ahead with Mom and Dad? I’ll meet you at the car.” Sam said. He rubbed his hand across her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her sweetly. Jess cast one more smile at Dean before turning back down the sidewalk to where Mary and John stood waiting.

“What’s up, Sammy?” Dean asked. He knew there was a reason his brother was holding him back.

Sam stepped closer to Dean and quickly looked over his shoulder before shoving his hand into his pocket and producing a small black velvet box. “I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t help myself.” He said, opening the box. Inside was a beautiful diamond engagement ring. The center stone was massive and cut into the shape of a teardrop. On each side were two smaller diamonds, surrounded by a cluster of sparkling rubies. “I’m gonna ask Jess to marry me.”

Dean laughed out loud. “Holy shit, Sam!” He blurted out loudly and pulled his brother into a hug.

“Shhh!” Sam warned. “Keep your voice down! I don’t even know if she’ll say yes.”

Dean scoffed. “Of course she’ll say yes! You two have been together, what, forever?” He grinned. “Although, if she does say no, you can tell her I’m available.”

Sam smacked him around the head, and Dean laughed. “Alright, have fun at Lee’s. Call Benny if there’s any trouble.”

Dean waved over Sam’s shoulder at John, Mary, and Jess, and gave his brother a nod before turning and heading down the dark sidewalk in the direction of Lee Webb’s bar.

Swayze’s was more than a few blocks from Cain’s place, but Dean didn’t mind the walk. He’d left his car at home after visiting Gordon this afternoon, and he enjoyed the refreshing night air against his face. The downtown lights glared into the sky through the ever-present smog rising from the city, and Dean hummed a little to himself as he walked. This was his city. The Winchesters owned these streets. He knew one day, the empire his mother and father had built would fall to him and Sam to manage, but that time was a long way off. John would never relinquish control of the family assets to his sons while he still drew breath, and without any heirs of their own to ensure the continuation of the dynasty, that was even less likely.

Dean smiled to himself, thinking of the ring currently sitting in Sam’s pocket. Jess would be an excellent addition to the family. Her parents were both high profile talent agents on Broadway with a lot of influence there and in Hollywood. There had never been a reason for the Winchesters to get into theatre, but he knew they wouldn’t turn down the opportunity if Jess said yes to Sam tonight. His smile faltered slightly. It had been a long time since Dean had been as happy as Sam was now. His last relationship had been with Lisa Braeden, and that had only lasted a few months. She had a young son, Ben, who Dean still saw on occasion, but he had left when things had started to get really serious. He wasn’t going to drag someone else’s kid into this mafioso life. It wasn’t his place.

The truth was, Dean didn’t even know if he wanted kids. He’d thought about it, sure, and his mother had been pressuring him since his mid-twenties to find a nice girl to make babies with, but Dean liked his hang-up free lifestyle. He was happy to carry out orders for his father, help the family, and maybe hustle a few out of town suckers at pool when the mood struck him. Sam was business-minded, and Dean was more than happy to allow his not-so-little little brother to take over for their father when the time came.

Dean had been so deep in his own head that he barely registered when he had arrived at Lee’s. He sat down on a barstool and scanned around the room. Dean sighed contentedly. As he had expected, the bar was devoid of anyone immediately recognizable save for Lee himself.

Dean rapped his knuckles on the bar top to get Lee’s attention. “Who do I gotta gank to get a drink around here, hey buddy?” He said as Lee tossed the towel he had been using to clean a pint glass over his shoulder and turned to Dean. His expression changed from annoyed to ecstatic when he registered who was speaking.

“Dean freaking Winchester.” Lee drawled. “It’s been a while. You too good to come see me anymore?”

Dean grinned. “Never too good for you, Lee.”

“What’ll it be? On the house.” Lee spread his arms, gesturing at the impressive selection of alcohol arranged along the wall behind him.

“Whiskey. Neat.” Dean replied. Lee nodded approvingly, selecting a bottle from the top shelf and pouring a heavy-handed three ounces into a glass. He slid it across the bar to Dean, and he took a sip, letting the liquid burn deliciously in his throat and warm him from the inside out.

“That’s good stuff.” Dean smiled as a low rasp crept into his voice.

“Only the best for you.” Lee matched his tone. “So, what brings you out tonight?”

“Dinner with the family,” Dean replied noncommittally.

“Yeah, you always did hate those.” Lee whipped the towel off his shoulder and picked up another glass, wiping the water from around the rim. “Anything exciting?”

“No, just business as usual. Bela is being a bitch, Bobby’s still telling the same stories he has for the past 20 years…” He paused before taking another sip of his drink. “Oh, and uh, Sammy’s gonna ask Jess to marry him.”

“No shit!” Lee said, his eyebrows rising in mild surprise. “I’d say that’s pretty exciting.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time coming.” Dean chuckled into his glass. “Never seen anybody as happy as those two. Kind of a miracle she hasn’t killed him yet with what a pain in the ass he can be.”

“Ah, you’re only saying that cuz he’s your brother.” Lee laughed.

“Yeah, well, brother or not, he’s still a giant pain.” Dean downed the rest of his drink and tapped the rim for a refill. Lee shook his head but complied.

“You feeling a little jealous there, buddy?” Lee smiled devilishly at him as he set the bottle down on the bar top.

Dean chuckled darkly. “Nothing to be jealous of. I’ve got my life, my health, my family,” he grinned at Lee over the rim of his glass. “And a buddy with a bar. What more could a guy need?”

Lee shook his head but said nothing. Dean appreciated the silence that fell immensely.

The sudden clatter of a barstool hitting the floor drew Dean’s attention to the opposite end of the bar. Two men stood chest to chest, shoving each other back and forth.

“What the fuck is your problem, man?!” One of them exclaimed.

“What’s my problem? What the hell is your problem?!” The other responded, punctuating his words with a shove to the man’s shoulders.

“Hey!” Lee shouted. “Take it outside, boys.”

“Yeah, some of us just wanna drink in peace,” Dean said.

“What the fuck did you just say?” One of the men said to Dean. Having found a common enemy in him, the two men turned towards Dean’s seat and advanced. He drew in a breath, immediately regretting his decision to speak up. They were both much larger than him by a wide margin, and Dean couldn’t help but think to himself ruefully that maybe Sam was right about needing protection.

As he balled his fists, ready to start swinging, he felt someone step into the space at his side.

“I believe both of these fine gentlemen just politely told you inbred walnuts to get lost.” The voice that spoke was low and gravelly, and Dean felt his stomach flip a little at the sound of it. He turned his head to identify the stranger and was met by a tan trenchcoat.

His eyes travelled upwards to the man’s face, and Dean felt his stomach do another small flip. A strong jawline covered in light stubble, slightly chapped pink lips, and tousled black hair were Dean’s first indications that the man suddenly standing next to him was unfamiliar. When the man cocked his head slightly, Dean caught his eye and felt his breath hitch in his chest. Framed by thick, dark eyelashes were a pair of icy blue eyes that Dean very quickly found himself staring at. He looked away as soon as he realized because, as much as he would have loved to stare, the two aggressively drunk men in front of him posed a much more immediate problem.

Returning his attention to them, Dean rose from his seat and drained the remaining liquid from his glass, vaguely registering that Lee had also rounded the bar and was standing behind him.

“Well, fellas. Looks like it’s two against three.” Dean said, gesturing at Lee and the stranger. “Not that I don’t like those odds being in my favour and all, but I’ll give you a chance to walk away before this gets too outta hand.” He heard Lee crack his knuckles and grinned. There was no one in this world Dean would rather have in his corner for a fight than Lee Webb, except maybe Sam.

The two men in front of him hesitated slightly before one of them let out a yell and charged towards Dean.

He reacted in an instant, ducking below the man’s outstretched arms and coming up under his knees to flip him over his back towards Lee. He heard the man hit the ground with a thud as Lee reached down and heaved him back up into the edge of the bar. Dean turned just in time to see the other man following his partner towards him, arms reaching out like some great ape. He didn’t have the forewarning or space to execute the same move, and so he simply ducked out of reach. As the man’s arms closed above his head, he heard the unmistakable sound of a fist colliding with a nose as the cartilage and bone crunched under the force. Glancing to his right, he saw the trenchcoated stranger land a blow directly into the second assailant’s face and smiled to himself. Not bad, he thought.

As the ape staggered back, clutching his now broken nose, blood streaming down between his fingers, Dean stood up and grabbed the man by his shirt. Together, he and Lee shoved the two towards the bar’s door and unceremoniously tossed them into the street.

“Don’t let me catch you goons in here again,” Lee shouted as they took off quickly down the alley.

Dean watched them go and shook his head ruefully. Even at Lee’s, trouble managed to find him. He looked to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Lee said, brushing him off. “Guys like that aren’t a problem. You and I both know I’ve fought worse.”

Dean laughed. “Ain’t that the truth.” They turned to go back inside, and Dean spied the mysterious stranger as he picked up a stool that had fallen over in the scuffle, cradling his right hand against his chest.

“Hey,” Dean called out to him. The man looked up at Dean, and he was pierced by the full intensity of his stare. Those blue eyes, which before had been icy and cold with adrenaline, were now pools of deep ocean blue, and Dean once again felt himself beginning to drown in them. He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was quickly forming there. “Um, thanks. For that. You, uh, you didn’t have to get involved. Lee and I could have handled it.”

Way to sound ungrateful, Winchester, he kicked himself internally.

The stranger cocked his head to the side as he stared at Dean, his eyebrows knitted together in the most perplexing stare Dean had ever seen. Lee walked up next to him. “Lemme get you some ice for your hand. If that dude’s skull is as thick as it looked, you’re probably hurting pretty bad.” He walked behind the bar and began filling a small bag with ice. “Oh, and your next drink is on me. Dean may not know how to actually say thank you but, we aren’t all as uncivilized.”

Dean felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he sat back in his seat, and Lee refilled his glass, adding a second one for their new friend. “Thank you.” The man said, taking the bag of ice and placing it over his knuckles. He took a small sip of his drink and set it back on the bar top.

Dean shook himself and realized the man was still staring at him, and being under his scrutinizing eyes made Dean fidget uncomfortably. He cleared his throat again. “So, uh, you got a name?” He asked. Then, because Dean was not one to relinquish the upper hand, he plastered on his charming Winchester smile and said, “Or am I just supposed to call you handsome?”

A small smile lifted the corners of the man’s lips as he extended his uninjured hand for Dean to shake.

“Novak.” He said, and Dean felt the colour immediately drain from his face.

“My name is Castiel Novak.”

#supernatural au #supernatural fic #destiel #deancas #dean x castiel #mafia au #deancas fic #supernatural #spn fic #tag: tbotc #tw: blood #tw: alcohol #tw: violence

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shera-dnd · 3 years

Text

Lori’s New Troll Lore

So me and my friend took very different approaches to rewriting the lore of these fantasy races. While Sal had the approach of making all the canon lore be born from in universe racism and misunderstandings, while creating the real lore of what these people really are instead of how they’re perceived by external groups (which is a fucking amazing btw)

I decided to go with a simpler approach of taking the very basic of what is canon to the universe and then reworking it so that it becomes its own unique thing, free of the usual yikes.

So what do we know for sure about troll canon. Well they can regenerate like crazy and can only be killed by fire or acid. They have amazing dark vision, at the price of being sensitive to bright lights (apparently that’s not in their stat sheet, but it’s referenced in lore). They’re a matriarchal society (weird how only evil cultures are matriarchal in D&D. I wonder why that would be the case), lead by shamans. And they’re sorta kinda giants, because they were born of the demigod Vaprak, who was born from... well when The All Father pulled a Zeus with a sorceress (Yes, depicting a child born from this kind of shit as inherently monstrous and evil is profoundly fucked up)

As you can see this shit is just full of yikes, but there are still a lot that can be salvaged here and put to good use creating an interesting story, so let’s see what I managed to make with all this

(I added a keep reading link, because this shit got loooooooooong)

~~~

Fire is the greatest enemy of Troll kind. It blinds them, it burns their flesh and it reminds them all of their own mortality, to this terrifying force of nature they show equal parts fear and respect. For in the hands of the old and wise, fire can still be used to make grand things.

Of course most troll children aren’t born with this inherent knowledge, so little they’re exposed to anything that could ever do them real harm. Young trolls have this sense that they’re immortal, invincible. When two trolls fight they could suffer terrible wounds that would kill even the mightiest of human warriors a dozen times over, and still get up and laugh it off.

From this two things can be gathered about troll kind. First that their disdain for armor and fancy clothes, comes entirely from practical reasons. What point is there in wasting resources in equipment that will get completely destroyed in a quick scuffle.

Second, that when it comes to real conflict, who wins is not the strongest troll, but the smartest. In the absence of fire or acid, the only real way to best a troll is by outsmarting them or outrunning them. This is one of the many reasons why it is wisdom, and not strength, that makes for a great leader.

It is also wisdom that allows for some trolls to work terrifying force of fire. Those who can treat that force with respect and who have fully understood what it means to hold in their hands the only thing that can kill their own people.

Still fire is very rarely used. They do not need it as a light source, they do not need it to cook their food or to heat their bodies, and they have very little use for metal tools. Fire in troll culture serves only one use, as a funeral pyre.

In the rare occasion when a troll truly dies, their body is burned and their ashes returned to the world. To many young trolls this is the first time they’re shown the destructive force of fire and learn of their own mortality. But in a way this ritual is less about how a troll dies, but more about how a troll lives on.

From those pyres banquets are prepared, their ashes are spread and seeds are planted where they were scattered. In this way a troll’s death is simply a means for them to truly become immortal.

In recent years metal tools have also been forged from these pyres, as more and more other cultures push into troll land, the more they must protect themselves from those who so carelessly brandish flame and magic.

Of course there are always grand tales about these tools, both of the people who brandished them and the people who became them. There are legends of an old troll queen whose corpse refused to burn away, keeping her pyre burning from 7 days and from that fire many grand weapons are forged - some hich are said to still carry her will.

Or perhaps the tale of the old wise woman who used a shield and a hammer to create an avalanche, thwarting a conquering army and humbling their warlord. It’s said that the shield forged from her pyre could stop even the acid breath of a black dragon.

Those are the story of the great troll people, of their strength and their wisdom, carried on in the world around us and in the many stories of their children.

~~~

Okay so that was a lot. One last bit that I wanted to write down is how they relate to the 13 classes of D&D. Gonna keep these quick and simple, because jesus christ I’ve been writing this shit for over an hour

Artificer: One wouldn’t expect them to have many artificers, but you’d be surprised with how much they can achieve without the use of metal. Ingenuity and cleverness goes a long way for Artificers and trolls have plenty of that. Though they do tend to prefer Alchemy as their field of study.

Barbarian: Rarer than most people think. Unyielding rage will only ever get you so far when fighting other trolls and their rage can’t do much to protect them from magical fire. Those that do exist lean towards the Path of the Ancestral Guardian

Bard: The living memory of the troll people. They retell the grand tales of their ancestors and share their wisdom with new generations. Many who follow this tradition lean towards the College of Lore

Cleric: Trolls prefer to worship their ancestors more than they worship gods. The one exception being Vaprak themself, as they’re the oldest of troll ancestors. Clerics do not have a particular preference towards any domain, as there’s certainly at least one great troll out there with a tale relating to each of them.

Druid: The most common of spell casters and wise leaders in troll communities. Though they may join any circle, the Circle of the Moon seems to attract particularly few of them, as their bodies far outmatch those of most natural beasts.

Fighter: Where there’s a fight to be had, there are fighters to fight it, troll culture is no exception.

Monk: Troll martial arts tend to center around grappling and pinning their foe, a victory by submission is often the best one can hope to achieve when dueling another of their kind. Still there are some who learn the ways of the Monk and how to channel their Ki to make their bodies even deadlier

Paladin: There are no classic paladin orders to be found among trolls, but as rare as they might be, there are still individuals who would dedicate so much of themselves to a cause that something out there - ancestor or god - is compelled to land them their aid.

Ranger: No society would have ever gone that far without rangers, hunters and guides, to lead them through the natural world. Trolls are no different.

Rogue: It may seem silly to think of something as large as a troll sneaking around, but it’s this sort of thinking that makes such clever people the deadliest and fiercest among their kind.

Sorcerer: Sometimes magic simply manifests itself to a person. Elves, humans, orcs and trolls alike, magic flows through them all and can awaken just as easily in any of them.

Warlock: Most trolls who seek this path are too young to understand the consequences of they’re doing. Perhaps they have never seen a funeral pyre being lit and are confident of their own immortality, or perhaps they have and are doing everything within their power to avoid such fate

Wizard: Only the old and wizened are ever allowed to take such a path, for such terrifying power cannot be taught to one who would use it carelessly, and far too many tales were ended far too soon by a single stray spell.

AND WE ARE FINALLY DONE. Hope you enjoyed this absurdly long read and please feel free to offer me feed back and your own unique takes on other fantasy races. Please do keep your advice constructive. I know I probably fucked up some bits back there, but nothing here is set in stone and a lot can be rewriten and changed as necessary

#dnd #dnd 5e #homebrew #trolls #dnd trolls #dnd homebrew

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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

Text

nothing’s quite as sweet as you

summary: in a world where soulmates exist, patton has waited his whole life to meet the person the universe has designated as his. he can't wait to make their soul recipe together and feed each other the first bite. but in the meantime, he'll settle for running his bakery and hoping.

(OR: an absurdly fluffy royality soulmate!au)

a/n: for @notveryglittery, the queen of all things royality

cw: mild angst mention

wordcount: 3.9k

read it on ao3!

“Patton? Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

Diana leans into the bathroom to see one of her five-year-old twins with his sleeves rolled up, soaking the front of his overalls as he tries to scrub his arm with a sopping wet washcloth. She quickly scoops him up, wringing the washcloth out and draping it over the side of the tub.

“Did you get paint on you again, silly?” She lifts his arm to see what he’d been scrubbing at, revealing a red, rubbed-raw forearm with bright blue lettering on it. “I don’t understand, Patty-cake, did you spill something on your soulmark?”

“I don’t wanna soulmark anymore, Mama,” Patton pouts, trying to scratch at his arm. Diana quickly catches his hand in one of hers, confused.

“Why not, baby?”

“Vee doesn’ have one! He doesn’ have a soulmate, an’ I don’ wanna soulmate if he doesn’t have one!” Patton’s eyes are watering behind his big, round glasses, and Diana smiles softly. She brushes his curly bangs aside to kiss his forehead.

“Why don’t you go and put on some dry clothes, baby, and then meet me, Virgil, and Mother in the living room, okay?”

“Okay . . .”

When Patton comes back, changed into a flowy skirt to accompany his Disney t-shirt, Diana has Virgil pulled onto her lap and Marie. Patton scrambles up onto the couch and pats Marie’s thighs. “Can I sit in your lap, Mother?”

“Of course, darling.” She wraps her arms around his middle and hugs him close. “Your Mama tells me that you were trying to scrub your soulmark off in the bathroom today.”

“I don’ wanna have a soulmate if Virge doesn’ have a soulmate! He’s my twin, we have to be the same!”

Marie, too, begins to laughs. “Mother, you can’t laugh! Virge doesn’ have a soulmate!” Patton cries, clearly distressed. “So I can’t have one either, I don’t wan’ him to be alone!”

“I am not laughing at you, my baby. You are admirable for wanting Virgil to not be alone. I am laughing because despite your admirable sentiments, you are mistaken. Virgil does have a soulmate.”

“What?”

Virgil pushes up his hoodie sleeve in confusion, looking at his forearms. “But I don’ have a mark . . .”

“I did not have a mark either, when I was born,” Marie tells him. “Your Mama did, but I did not. My arm was plain and bare, like yours is.”

Patton pulls her arms away from his waist, flipping her left arm so that it’s palm-up. There’s a recipe written on her forearm, in soft pink script that complements his Mama’s lavender soulmark. “But you have a soulmark now, Mother! And you and Mama are soulmates, right?”

“You are correct, little cake. Do you wonder why that is?”

“Yes, Mother!”

“In every soulmate pair - and it is different if there are more than two soulmates, but if there is a pair - there is one born marked and one born unmarked. When you touch your soulmate’s skin for the first time, the mark will glow, and the unmarked will receive their recipe.”

“Think about it this way, Pat - if everyone was born with a soulmark, you’d have to hold your arm up to everyone you met to try and read and see if the recipe matched! That would take so long!” Diana says.

“Yeah . . . so Virgil has a soulmate?”

“He does,” Marie tells them. “When you first approach your soulmate, there will be a smell that only the two of you can smell. It is the smell of your recipe! Once you have both halves of your recipe, you will make it together, and you will feed each other the first bite, and then you will be together forever.”

Patton grins brightly at his twin. “We both get soulmates, Virge! I’m so happy! I woulda said no to my soulmate if you didn’t have one, but I think I still woulda been sad not to have one. But you’re my brother!”

Virgil smiles back, a little more shy but no less bright. “Okay!”

*~*~*~*~*

“Have you found them yet?” Patton asks eagerly, bouncing next to his twin. Virgil is rummaging through his locker, which he’s somehow already managed to turn into a disaster. Patton’s locker, right next to his, is decorated with pictures of the two of them and their moms and puppies and all kinds of other things.

“No, Patty, but it’s only the first day,” Virgil says softly, shoving a sketchbook into his backpack. “We have a lot of time to find them.”

“I know, but Mama and Mother met in high school, and wouldn’t it be so cool if we could find ours in high school too? I just wanna know who they are! I wanna hold their hand and give them kisses and make our recipe together and and and -”

“I know, Pat,” Virgil laughs, slamming his locker shut. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for our first ever art class.”

Patton grins when he walks into the room, inhaling the scent of acrylic paint and glue and sharpies. He puts his messenger bag down on one of the stools, but when he turns to see Virgil, he realizes that his twin is standing in the doorway, frozen. He hurries over, sundress swishing around his knees. “Vee? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Virgil’s eyes are saucer-wide, and his hands are gripping the straps of his backpack. “Pat, can - do you - can you smell that?”

“The art room smell?”

“No,” Virgil says, and there’s a tiny smile creeping onto his face. “It - it smells sweet, Pat. Can you smell that?”

Patton breaks into a bright, sunshiney grin. “No, Vee, I sure as sugar cannot!” He bounces on his toes, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. “You found your soulmate!”

“I haven’t found them yet , Patton, they could still be out in the hallway,” Virgil says, even though he’s still smiling. He follows Patton into the room, and as the rest of the class files in and the bell rings and the door closes behind the last girl, his eyes widen. Patton’s grin gets even wider.

“You still smell it, don’t you?” he whispers. Virgil nods, and Patton can barely stay sitting on the stool. The teacher hasn’t entered the classroom yet, so Patton eagerly sprints to the front of the room. “What are you doing?” Virgil hisses, gripping the table. Patton winks at him before knocking his fist on the chalkboard and getting everyone in the classroom to look at him.

“May I have your attention please!”

Virgil pulls his hood up and over his head in an attempt to hide his face, cheeks red, and Patton does feel a little bad about embarrassing his twin. At the same time, however, he knows Virgil, and he knows that he won’t say anything about his soulmate’s presence in the class. He will , however, be super anxious about who they are and what they think of him until he meets them, and Patton’s always been the extrovert between the two of them.

“My name’s Patton, and that’s my twin brother Virgil! Can anyone else in this class smell baked goods right now? Because he can!”

“Patton, I swear to God, stop talking,” Virgil hisses. Patton rocks back and forth, grinning, as he scans back and forth among the people in the class. The silence stretches on for almost thirty seconds, but before either twin can become fully disheartened, someone stands up.

“I, too, can perceive a distinctly saccharine aroma in the air,” he says quietly. Patton smiles, confused, before Virgil is standing up and carefully tugging his hood down, rearranging his mussed hair as he shuffles up to stand next to Patton.

“He smells it too, Pat, he smells it too he smells it too oh my God,” he mutters.

The boy approaches them, wearing black pants and a black belt and a black polo shirt with a dark blue tie. He has black shoes and glasses with square black frames that look almost exactly like the ones Patton used to wear before he broke them. Patton’s eyes are immediately drawn to the flowing, midnight-blue script on his left forearm, and he hears his brother inhale sharply next to him.

“Logan Delaney,” the boy says crisply, holding out his hand so that they can all see his soulmark. “It’s a pleasure.” He looks so serious, but when his eyes land on Virgil they soften a little.

“V - Virgil Alexander,” Virgil stammers, rolling his sleeve up and reaching for Logan’s hand. “Likewise.”

The second their hands make contact, Logan’s soulmark begins to glow. His eyes widen, and a look of almost childlike wonder crosses his face as a ribbon of bright blue light spirals around his arm and hand, turning purple as it winds around Virgil’s wrist. He gasps as the light begins to write across his arm, leaving shimmering lavender script across his forearm as his soulmark appears.

“Hello, Virgil,” Logan says. He carefully turns his hand so that he’s not shaking Virgil’s hand anymore but holding it, studying the inside of his forearm as he scans over the recipe. “I know I have said this before, but it truly is a pleasure to meet you.”

Virgil blinks in shock before curling his fingers around Logan’s, rubbing the back of his neck as he offers a soft, tentative smile. “It’s really good to meet you, too.”

*~*~*~*~*

Logan ends up accompanying them home that day, fingers laced with Virgil’s the whole time. Patton sits on the kitchen counter and teases his twin while he and Logan work together to make their recipe, thumbprint cookies featuring Logan’s favorite jam and Virgil’s favorite shortbread.

“It really is a perfect recipe for you two,” Patton sighs, reaching out to ruffle Virgil’s hair. “I can’t wait until I meet my soulmate! What do you think our recipe will be? Will it taste good? Oh, I can’t wait, I can’t wait -”

“I’m sure your soulmate will be perfect for you, Pat. They’ll be just as sappy as you, and I bet your recipe will be so sweet no one else could possibly eat it. You two will share one massive sweet tooth.”

“You think so?”

“Course, Pat. Who wouldn’t be thrilled to have you as a soulmate?”

Logan carefully breaks a cookie in half and offers it to Virgil. He smiles, slow and hesitant, and Virgil holds the cookie carefully. They lift the cookies up, reaching for each other; Logan takes a bite of Virgil’s half, and Virgil takes a bite of Logan’s half. When they open their eyes again, Logan reaches up and carefully brushes a crumb off Virgil’s face with his thumb, letting his hand cradle Virgil’s cheek.

Patton carefully ducks into the living room so that they can kiss in private, happy chills running down his spine. He can’t wait until he meets his soulmate.

*~*~*~*~*

SEVERAL YEARS LATER

*~*~*~*~*

Patton wheezes and coughs as a poof of flour rises up from the dough he’d unwisely punched. “I have got to stop doing that,” he gags, thumping his chest repeatedly. The door swings open, and Roman sticks his head through in concern.

“You alright, Pat?”

“Yep!” Patton grabs for his water bottle and chugs down half of it in one go. “Just got a little side tracked by the flour power, you know what I mean?” Roman blinks at him before laughing, sweeping his coppery curls off his forehead. Patton inhales and the air smells saccharine sweet and perfect - but then, it always smells like this here. He owns and works in a bakery, after all. Still, he allows himself a moment to stare dreamily at his front counter employee, wondering what it would be like if this smell meant something more, if Roman were actually his soulmate.

By the time Roman opens his eyes again, Patton has returned to kneading the brioche dough in front of him. “I know brioche sells well, but it’s such a pain to make. It takes two whole days! It has to refrigerate overnight, and it’s stiff as a rock in the morning. I just don’t have the muscles for this.”

“Not to brag or anything, but I do,” Roman says, casually curling one arm up and revealing a very obvious set of arm muscles. Patton is fairly sure he feels his soul leave his body and ascend to a new level of homosexuality. “If you wanted help, I -”

The bell above the door rings, and Roman grins. “Talk about this later?”

Patton nods, and Roman heads back out into the bakery proper. Patton exhales, pulling his sleeve up to study the recipe written across his forearm. He thought he would have met his soulmate by now, but it seems the universe has other plans for him. He refuses to give up hope on his soulmate, but he does wish they’d hurry up a little and fall into his path.

Roman pokes his head in again. “Patton, is the brioche done? The next group of soulmates is here.” Patton studies the bread dough in front of him, plops it back into a bowl, and covers it with saran wrap.

“It’s not done, but it’ll keep a little longer while I teach the class.” He pushes the dough back into the freezer and dusts off the flour coating his hands. “Can you handle the shop while I’m working?”

“I know where to find you if anything happens, but I think I got it!”

Patton steps into the shop proper. His eyes scan across the happy customers lounging in the cafe portion of his shop; the small group of new soulmates clustered near the doors to the kitchen, all chattering nervously; the display case of pastries, stocked full enough that Roman will be okay while he’s teaching this class; Roman himself, lounging across the front counter and flirting with a girl about their age, hair died in a gradient of blue-pink-purple.

He turns away and focuses on greeting the small group of soulmates waiting next to the doors of the communal kitchen. “Hello there! I take it you’re all here for the First Recipe class?” They nod, and Patton takes a moment to assess the group. Two young women, holding hands and blushing shyly; two young men, both fidgeting awkwardly as they offer one another fleeting glances and smiles; a rare soulmate throuple, a young woman sandwiched between two people who keep leaning in to make her giggle and blush.

“Excellent! Did you all bring a printout of your complete assembled recipe, as the signups requested? It makes it easier in the long run to cook!” They hand over their recipes, and Patton scans them quickly. “Most of these are one-day things, so you shouldn’t need to wait for anything to set overnight! If plans change, though, we can always rearrange a schedule. Come right this way!”

The communal kitchen is smaller than the industrial kitchen where Patton makes the bakery’s products. He’d designed it to be homier, more like walking into the sunlit kitchen of a small cottage than a large company. There are a few stations, wide enough for up to four people at a time, and a well-stocked refrigerator and pantry. The soulmates split themselves up around the kitchen; Patton passes out aprons and goes over a few basics about safety and where things are located before letting them free about the kitchen.

There are a few near mishaps; it’s clear some of them have never worked with a gas stove before, the knives are incredibly sharp, and some of the recipes call for more advanced techniques. Still, by the end of it, there are three completed recipes on the counters: one no-bake cheesecake, one batch of pâte à choux profiteroles, and one batch of orange-blueberry scones.

“Good job!” Patton grins. He watches the soulmates feed each other their dishes, laughing when one of the throuple soulmates dabs a bit of profiterole cream filling onto her partner’s nose and kisses it off while they blush and stammer. Once they’ve all completed their first bites, they share their recipes with each other and Patton.

“You all did a great job! I’m so proud of you, these taste amazing!”

He grins and pops a profiterole into his mouth. The sweet taste is almost enough to cover up the way his heart twinges watching all these happy young people with their soulmates.

*~*~*~*~*

“Patton, look out!”

Patton twists around to see Roman rushing towards him, but he’s not fast enough to stop Patton’s foot from sliding on the coffee spill. He pitches backwards, windmilling frantically in an attempt to keep himself upright, and then -

Suddenly, an arm curls around his waist, a hand grabs his hand, and Roman is dipping him right above the ground. Patton’s eyes are wide; he’s never been this close to Roman before, and he’s never notices the little flecks of yellow and gold scattered in Roman’s eyes, and his arms come up to loop around Roman’s neck.

Electricity sparks through Patton’s whole body. Judging by the way Roman’s eyes blow wide as saucers, he feels it too. Patton doesn’t want to stop looking at Roman as he pulls him up to his feet, carefully sliding his hands down Roman’s arms to hold his hands. His arm begins to glow brightly - his soulmark begins to glow brightly. Ribbons of blue light spiral around Roman, who gasps as flowing, elegant red script appears on his forearm.

“It’s you?” Patton whispers.

“It’s you,” Roman laughs. He pulls Patton into the back, into the kitchen, and before Patton can speak Roman’s pulled him into his arms and pushed his face into Patton’s hair. “Oh, thank all the Fates, it’s you, it’s you!”

“You . . . you wanted it to be me?”

“I did. I thought it was you who didn’t want it to be me because you didn’t react when you smelled the sweet smell in the air. I was so excited because I thought it was you, and then you didn’t -”

“That - wh -” Patton blinks. “The sweet smell around you was because we’re soulmates?”

“You didn’t realize?”

“We work in a bakery, Roman! I’m a baker! Everything smells sweet all the time!” Roman laughs, leaning in to press his forehead against Patton’s. “But - but I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so bad, Roman, every time I looked at you I could barely control how I felt but I didn’t think we could be -”

“I know, but we are. Think about it, Pat!” Before Patton can gather the courage to kiss him, the bell over the door rings. Roman sighs softly. “I should go handle that.”

“Do - do you have anywhere you have to be tonight? After work?”

“Nowhere except by your side.” Patton feels his entire face flaming up as Roman smirks and tucks Patton’s hair behind his ear. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to regain control of his voice.

“After we close down, we should go into the other kitchen and make our recipe together.” Patton’s heart swells like a balloon when he says “our recipe,” grinning like an idiot. Roman rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, grinning happily, and Patton pulls one hand away from Roman’s chest to flap it in joy.

“Absolutely.” Before Patton can respond, Roman leans in and kisses his forehead before disappearing back into the front. Patton giggles to himself, spinning around in a quick circle and flapping his hands in joy. He stims gleefully to himself with his hands for almost ten minutes before he returns to the pastry he’s rolling out, rocking on his toes the entire time.

*~*~*~*~*

pattoncake baker man: VEE!!! u’ll nvr guess what just happened!!!!

pattoncake baker man: i found my soulmate!!!!

pattoncake baker man: it’s roman!!! i can’t believe i never noticed the smell!!!

shadow man: pat

shadow man: pat i love you but like

shadow man: you work in a GOD DAMN BAKERY

shadow man: tf did you expect???

shadow man: (but srsly, i’m happy for you bro <3)

*~*~*~*~*

Roman tilts his head, frowning at the page as Patton finishes writing down their recipe. “What . . . is it? What does our recipe make?” Patton scans through the steps, putting the pieces together in his mind and trying to assemble a complete puzzle.

“It looks like it’s some kind of custard tart. Shortcrust pastry, chocolate and cinnamon custard filling, grated chocolate on top . . . it sounds amazing.”

“You’re the baker here, so you’ll have to take the lead. I’m . . . not great at this kinda stuff.” Roman rubs the back of his neck. Patton reaches up and gently takes Roman’s hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing stim.

“Hey. Is that negative self-talk I hear, mister? None of that! You think everyone in the world is a great baker when they make their soulmate recipe? No! All that matters is that we make it together.” Roman looks up, smiling, and Patton gathers all of his courage to lean forward and smooch Roman’s cheek. Roman gasps, rearing back, and for a split second Patton thinks he’s moved too fast.

Roman lurches forward, just as quickly, and then back and forth and oh goodness he’s full-on rocking and Patton must have made him so happy! Patton bounces up and down, rapidly flapping his own hands, and for a moment they just stim together in the kitchen.

It’s another five minutes before they actually start making the recipe, but neither of them mind too much.

*~*~*~*~*

Patton’s never worked with Roman in the kitchen before, but they flow together perfectly. They assemble the shortcrust together, and Roman puts his arm muscles to work kneading the pastry. Patton lets himself openly stare at the way Roman’s arms flex and bulge, reaching out and patting them with a high-pitched giggle.

“Am I doing it wrong?”

“Nope! Your arms are just . . . really nice.” Roman blushes before lifting one arm and deliberately flexing. Patton squeals and turns his attention back to the custard. They blind-bake the pastry, fill it with custard, and carefully grate chocolate while the tart bakes. It comes out shiny and glossy and perfect, and Patton carefully lays a paper stencil over the top of the custard tart while Roman shakes the grated white chocolate over it to from a swirling pattern.

“It looks beautiful,” Roman says. “But you look more beautiful.” Patton flaps a little in joy as Roman carefully picks up the kitchen knife and cuts a slice out of the tart. He hands Patton a fork and takes one himself, scooping up a piece.

“It cuts beautifully, too.” Patton looks at Roman, heart swelling, and offers him the forkful of tart. Roman does the same; Patton closes his eyes and opens his mouth. The tart hits his tongue and he gasps as chocolate and spice and silky-smooth custard bloom across his tongue. Roman makes a muffled, pleasured noise.

“It’s so good!” he gasps. Patton swallows his mouthful of chocolate and looks at Roman. “It’s sweet and spicy and smooth and - and I - Patton, it’s wonderful.”

“You’re wonderful.” Roman’s fork clatters to the counter as he reaches forward and cups Patton’s cheeks, pulling him in and pressing their mouths together. Patton squeaks and gasps and melts into Roman’s arms, hugging him tightly. Roman tastes like the custard they just ate, but he also tastes like sunshine and light and warmth. Patton’s been baking since he was small, but nothing tastes quite as sweet as Roman.

#starshinewrites #romantic royality #romantic analogical #soulmate!au #stimmy sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders

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