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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years

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this is exactly how it went down in my head.

misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?

jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.

misha: got it.

— the next day —

misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?

jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.

misha: say no more.

when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.

ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut

NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-

on god they are so loud like-

Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.

so true bestie

I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.

Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.

- 🐌 anon

literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh

Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie

good for her.gif

csdsc heeft gevraagd:

All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂

that would have been better than what we got lmfao

I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him

i pretend i do not see

Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can

co-signed

Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.

- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently

yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs

You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.

- 🐌 anon

you are not wrong

Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢

i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do

I was right. :(

It got almost romantic...

👀

nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya

Danneel liked Jensen's tweet

i saw

That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon

god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao

You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content

im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh

pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps

you know you want to king pspsps

So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.

Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.

And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.

And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚

idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh

Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!

Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂

👽

oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again

I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon

yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt

MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN

YOU SURE DO

I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.

sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'

Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here

Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)

Missed you Rose

-🐻

LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!

Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT

sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately

i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.

honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao

They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved

oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary

king shit tbh

#snail anon #csdsc #sunflower anon #turtle anon #eyes anon #tea anon #peacock anon #alien anon #bear anon #THAT WAS A LOT #anyways next time im just gonna spam you all fsfsgdsgd

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rueluxprince · 4 years

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Why Does Jin Guangyao Have So Many Goddamn Ships

This dude. I don’t know what is with him. He can be shipped with so many goddamn people, and you can find something in canon (show/novel/audio drama) to justify it. You like a specific trope? He’ll have a ship that gives it to you. (Lets extrapolate some from canon)

Qin Su/Jin Guangyao: Naive yet headstrong heiress trying to fight on the battlefield and contribute to the greater good. Bit off more than she could chew and was rescued by a gentle and quietly self-assured young man. Romance and comedy ensues as she vows to make him her husband! Flowers! Hijinks! Enlisting quirky handmaidens for advice! Jin Guangshan doesn’t exist in this one!

Lan Xichen/Jin Guangyao: hero saves the beauty, gay edition. Young bookkeeper wants to be worthy of noble young master’s esteem, works his ass off, puts himself in years of danger, finally climbs to the top and now must deal with the “is he or is he not” of romance in politics! Is he or is he not? He’s always at your house and gives you a free pass to his house and draws you exclusive paintings and only attends conferences hosted by you and trusts you completely! But he never says anything! Cue the yearning! The soft touches! Reminders of etiquette! Swooning into strong arms!

Jiang Cheng/Jin Guangyao: reluctant and accidental co-parents reluctantly and accidentally fall in love in the long years of raising a precocious nephew into adulthood. The kid turned out surprisingly okay, with a commendably hard moral backbone. One realizes it’s nice to have a perpetually angry grape ready to blow up in your defense. The other realizes someone closest to him is already fulfilling all his marriage requirements and he didn’t even know it! Domestic bliss! Cute kids! Internal struggles of sexuality! The italicized oh!

Nie Mingjue/Jin Guangyao: Noble and righteous leader recognizing and promoting downtrodden but talented beginner –> no good opinion forthcoming but still wants to care his own way older brother x turning down a dark path but still wants to go back the way things were younger brother –> So much resentment fierce corpse x unable to forget the guilt murderer –> they are buried together. Deteriorating relationship! Shakespearean tragedy! Ultimate darkness! Death! Eternity with each other!

(Honorable mention: 3zun - a wholesome ouroboros loop of death, mystery and found family)

Nie Huaisang/Jin Guangyao: you ever have that one childhood friend that takes care of you and indulges in your oddities and protects you with murderous looks and a scarred back even though he’s frailer than you are; and then that childhood friend murders your older brother but leaves you alive and still takes cares of you and spoils you and would drop everything to help you with a made up problem? And so you’re now left seething in rage because how dare he ruin you and love you all without pause?! Cue the revenge plots! Lies! Deceit! Best actor winners going toe to toe on the world’s biggest stage! Inner conflict! Angst! More conflicted plotting!

Mo Xuanyu->Jin Guangyao: You’re weak and a mess and constantly bullied and the only one in this huge and scary house that ever showed you kindness is your older half brother. He becomes a god in your eyes, all golden and brilliant and surrounded by equally golden and beautiful people you can never touch. But you still try despite everything because he’s the sun and he wanted you to thrive, and you’re just a little moth ramming head first into the flames. And when you’re scorched to the bone and everyone still keeps on trying to stomp you into ash and you finally decide to take revenge, you still can’t bring yourself to blame that splendid sun who were never yours in the first place. Resentments! Unrequited love! More angst! Inner courtyard intrigues! More tragedy! Poetic inner monologues!

Su She->Jin Guangyao: generous and focused ruler x dedicated and competent supporter. He gives you all the respect you need and you know in your soul you will die for him and you don’t care one whit about it. You protect his heart but you always stood one step behind. The position beside him is taken, often by a soft figure in golden silk, or an eminent figure in blue satin. Jealousy! Loud expressions of loyalty! Ego management! Pining and simping!

Xue Yang/Jin Guangyao - friends who murder together stays together. One causes wanton destruction and the other picks up after them. Not because he particularly cares that people are getting hurt but the cost analysis tells him it’s not worth the clean up. You pay for my shopping, I rip out the tongues of anyone that insults your mother. Lighthearted talks of murder! Scheming with friends! Lots of cursing! Dubious experiments! Lots of magical cursing! Friends with benefits!

Wen Ruohan/Meng Yao: local megalomanic tyrant sees this random ass kid all bloodied up and gleaming with spite and went “I would like to raise that one. I’ll give it a sword and I’ll teach him stuff and I won’t say I appreciate him but I will definitely save him from imminent danger.” And that kid acknowledges said tyrant as his teacher and tortures for him pretends to love him, all the while stealing his secrets and preparing to stab him in the back to win the war. Struggle! Trauma! Living in hardship! Double agent reminding themselves not to be conflicted! Psychological torture!

Wen Chao + Wen Xu: uhhhhhh, the canoodling with stepmom trope? Do we even go that far on tumblr? It’s a possibility I’ve considered for about two seconds and now I wish I could wash my brain out.

Jin Zixun~~Jin Guangyao: the “I know I’m slapping the me two years ago in the face with what I’m doing right now but it’s love so I don’t care” trope? All the Jins do this. The year before you were all “why are you always here you don’t belong here you bastard son” and now you’re all “wheres A-Yao he promised he would ambush this public menace with me owo?!??!!??” What a weakass motherfucker with weakass principles.

Honorable mentions:

Wei Wuxian + Jin Guangyao: best in law dynamics, potentially. Terrorizing the Cloud Recesses, eating lots of spicy food, hiding secrets in perfectly groomed hair, causing aneurysms in Lan Qiren, violating all the OH&S regulations Etc.

Lan Wangji + Jin Guangyao: best in law dynamics, actually. It’s a whole battle. Jin “I am physically incapable of seeing someone and not wanting to take care of it” Guang “yes I will be calling you Wangji and trying to give you stuff and show audible concern for your love life” Yao vs. Lan “I do not wish to know you I do not care for your seating arrangements do not ever invite me to your banquets again” Wang “just because you’re maybe dating my precious older brother does not mean I will not refute you to your face about my boyfriend at your banquet in front of said brother” Ji.

(And yes the last two are purely familial/platonic. And also everyone else? You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift is the most fitting theme song for half of them)

~more MDZS metas under #my thing# tag~

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yakocchi · 3 years

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2021 Anniversary Event Ministories // Count

this post contains 2 ministories: the 4th Anniversary Collection Event (Loved So Much, I Go Breathless) and the 2021 Election Collection Event (Deep Night)

o hey it’s me why did i sandwich two honestly-unrelated stories? bc i can!! actually it’s bc i feel lame when i post too much. which goes against how you’re supposed to use tumblr…. but no one ever said i was good at this

anyway, they serve similar purposes. The Election Event is supposed to be a sort of Anniversary Event, while the..… Anniversary Event is named that. the Count did not!! have a scenario Anniversary Event this year (that was apparently reserved for the top 6. sad but makes sense) so yea, make do w/ this

The Election Story is an AU where the characters are hosts of a host club. which…. not my thing but w/e, maybe some of u like that stuff The Anniversary Event on the other hand is supposed to be in-line with canon. results in corny SHIET but i like corny shiet. like the vlad one has them buying mugs (? thats a thing in the 19th century, corny mug shit? #1 best vampire mug? bruh)

in event chronology, the anni event was way before the election one but i put the election one first here cuz it’s longer (bc i included the prologue)

Spoilers under the cut!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (･ω･*)

Deep Night // Prologue + Count

⋆ didnt screenie anything for the prologue cuz LAZY. just imagine the dumb black shirts they made some poor intern edit on photoshop, thats p much it

…

One city night, the year 20XX—

[Kara]: “Survived another week of hard work, me… haah,” (I finally have the day off tomorrow. It’ll be okay if I let loose a bit tonight, right?) When I was worn out from the monotony of everyday life, I would head over to a certain place for comfort and thrills. And that establishment was—

[Napoleon]: “Welcome to Club Deep Night.”

[Arthur]: “Ah, it’s Kara. You came to see me, right? ‘Been waiting.” [Isaac]: “Hold up, Arthur; she doesn’t come here just to see you, no?” [Dazai]: “Ooh, Isaac; a Host’s jealousy isn’t pretty, you know?” [Dazai]: “Well then, Toshiko-san; Your pick tonight— Wha – is me? No, no, it’s an honor. This will be a night of blinding sensuality very soon—"

[Isaac]: “She hasn’t picked anyone and you’re already going full steam ahead. —And her name isn’t Toshiko.” [Arthur]: “Right, right; Don’t hang with some guy who can’t your name right, Kara— My princess.”

As soon as I entered the club, a smile appeared on my face as a battle of charms began in front of me.

[Napoleon]: “Sheesh… every last one of these rascals are thrilled. Sorry that they’re being so noisy.” [Kara]: “No, no! Whenever I come here, it’s fun and even perks me up.” [Vincent]: “Really? If I’m to be the source of your high spirits, then I’ll make it even livelier in here.” [Vincent]: “I’ll build the champagne tower, and prepare the call!” [Theodorus]: “Hey, Hondje— Hurry and pour the champagne. It’ll be to give gratitude to the angel that’s landed on this city tonight.” [Theodorus]: “If you can be a good girl, I’ll tease and spoil you to bits.”

⋆ in host clubs, there’s a thing called a champagne call. the customer buys some very expensive bubbly, and all of the hosts gather round her table to chant, sing, w/e i was curious on how the localization handled theo’s dog nickname for MC (like 駄犬) cuz if they did a straight translation (mongrel, mutt, etc.), i feel like the western audience would hate him lul. glad they found smth

Everyone tries to entertain me, and in a single moment, their sweet words make me forget about my ordinary life. (It’s nice that everyone is so lively; but shouldn’t I go pick someone for tonight…?)

Troubled about it, arms then suddenly wrapped around my waist on both sides, causing me to cry out. [Faust]: “How long do you intend to go down one by one like that, keeping us men waiting?” [Faust]: “Come on— Please pick someone, and quickly. I can’t say... that I don’t know who you should be choosing.” [Charles]: “Ugh, there goes the cunning Doctor. I wanted to be picked by her, and now you’re doing all this.” [Charles]: “Hey— Pick me, Kara. I’ll do things to you that’ll make you feel good, utterly euphoric...” [Sebastian]: “Stop the Sexy Time. Even though you are a host, please show some restraint within club walls, Charles.” [Sebastian]: “...There being so many rivals vying for Kara’s nomination, is a nuisance.”

[Jeanne]: “If I do things that will make her feel good, will she be thrilled?” [Mozart]: “Jeanne, it’d be a good idea to not emulate what you just saw.”

⋆ “Stop the Sexy Time” is transliterated into kana, so it felt wrong to potentially change it. yes the cringe was not made by me this time. surprisingly also, this is something that gets a bit lost in translation: Charles and Jeanne both use yorokobu, in which the most common meaning is to be pleased, feel joy, etc. however, they use diff kanji which have diff connotations. Charles uses one that’s more abt physical joy (like a massage... or uh u know), while Jeanne uses one that’s more abt emotional joy (like seeing a friend u haven’t met with in a while). it’s supposed to show how dirty minded charles is while jeanne is precious LOL

[Mozart]: “Kara, come over here. You deserve to receive much finer hospitality... So, from me.” [Jeanne]: “If you pick me as well, then I’ll do my very best. Kara, won’t you come with me?” (Urgh- it’s getting more and more impossible to pick just one of them...!)

…

A bit farther away from everyone else, in the backroom— two men were exchanging words with each other: [Shakespeare]: “The moment Kara arrived, everyone became so animated.” [Shakespeare]: “She’s a mysterious one, to be able to draw us masterful hosts towards herself.” [Leonardo]: “Mhm, every single grown man is desperate to get the sweetheart’s attention. [Leonardo]: “Well... maybe I should turn desperate too, hm?”

And in the owner’s quarters, there were also men watching Kara through the club monitors. [Vlad]: “That girl…” [Count]: “You mean Kara? She started frequenting this place a little while ago.” [Count]: “For some reason, I’m always interested… in who she picks each time.” [Vlad]: “Looks like you care quite a lot about one specific customer, dear Owner.” [Vlad]: “Kara… hm?”

…

[Napoleon]: “Regardless, all of the hosts here like you way too much. —To be honest, it makes me anxious.” [Kara]: “Huh-?” (Anxious… as a host? Or… as a man?) His words, honeyed with sweet temptation, made my heart race. His smile then deepened: [Napoleon]: “—Well, Kara; Who’s your pick tonight?”

(End of Prologue)

…

(Count)

[Count]: “So you’ve come, Kara. I’ve been waiting, you know.” I had paid a visit to the host club I always go to, and was invited to the owner’s quarters for some reason.

⋆ how is he still a Count in this AU lul. like yea nobility still exists, but it’s… strange, esp. if someone of nobility is openly running a host club

(Being called up here by the owner… this is the first time that’s ever happened.) I couldn’t come up with a reason why I was the only customer summoned here.

[Count]: “It’s not anything to be nervous about; I just wanted to hear something from you tonight.” [Count]: “You come here often, but you pick someone different every time.” [Count]: “Is there no one here that meets your expectations?” [Kara]: “My expectations?” [Count]: “Mhm. Being unable to satisfy our customers’ needs is an alarming matter.” [Count]: “If none of my kids happen to be your type, I’d like to hear what kind of things you seek.” [Kara]: “N-No… it’s not that none of them are my type;” [Kara]: “It’s just that everyone here is so wonderful, so I can’t pick only one of them.” [Kara]: “They’re cool, kind, great at conversation, and entertain me…” As I thought about the hosts who had surrounded me at the tables up to this point, I voiced my feelings honestly. I then recalled the words the Count had said just a moment ago, and felt a slight discomfort in my heart.

(I’m being honest when I say that I can’t choose between such amazing hosts. But…) (I also think it’s certainly true that “what I seek” is a bit different from them.) (The one I desire is more…) I shifted my eyes to the Count standing before me, and he responded with the composed smile of a mature adult. I was captivated by him at first glance, as a scent of danger seemed to drift from deep within that smiling face.

(But— As the owner himself, the Count’s not going to service a customer, of course…) Regretful, I dropped my gaze— Before I realized the Count had walked over to me. Cradling my chin in his fingers, he turned my head up so I face him.

[Count]: “Contrary to your words… your eyes say that there is something you desire.” [Count]: “Your indecisiveness stems from wanting more stimulation, is it not?” [Count]: “Like this, for example—"

He suddenly pressed his lips to mine. Shocked, I tried to pull away— but the Count gripped my waist in place. He then drew me in closer as if to prevent escape, changing angles countlessly as he took my lips. [Kara]: “Nn-… Don’t. I can’t pick you, the owner, as my host, so…” [Count]: “That unsatisfied-looking face of yours deeply bothers me.” [Count]: “I’m retired, but if you wish it so... For you, I’m willing to make a comeback tonight.” [Count]: “Well, now… go ahead; make your choice?” As if to seduce me, the gleaming gold eyes in front of me radiate this allure. With that, I felt that he could see through the lustful desires that lied within the recesses of my heart, and my body shivered with a subtle numbness. (I’ve never felt this way before.) Wondering what kind of stimulation he would give, I wanted to be toyed by those fingers, those lips… These emotions muddled within me.

(I think the person I’ve wanted all this time... was you from the beginning.)

[Kara]: “Count— Tonight, I’ll have you…” [Count]: “To be chosen by you, is an honor.” [Count]: “I promise to sate your thirst this evening.” [Count]: “—Give yourself to me.”

⋆ or “you can entrust all of yourself to me” if u want smth more awkward but more faithful to the original text

A fervent kiss rained down on me as if to fill what I had been deprived of,

and the night that would far exceed the stimulation I had desired, had just begun—

FIN

⋆ u kno, i did try making the characters sound more 21st century in this AU. but at the same time, the count probably wouldnt be the type to say yeet (aka a useless person) so idt it showed that much

…

Loved So Much, I Go Breathless // Count

…

Inside a swaying carriage, the Count sat across from me. Staring at me fixedly, he then gave a deep sigh. [Count]: “You are astoundingly beautiful tonight, Kara. —It was good to have left the manse like this.” [Count]: “If we had traversed the streets by foot, then I would have surely faced difficulty in having to shake off the men charmed by you.” [Kara]: “Ah-… D-Don’t play around like that, please.” [Count]: “I’m being completely honest, you know. —Well, if someone were to come near you, I wouldn’t let them lay a finger on you anyway.”

⋆ he says something closer to “those are my true thoughts, without a single lie” but that’s going too far in my arbitrary rules of “does this sound like smth ppl actually say” so whee

(J-Jeez; He always acts like this…) Wanting to mislead my pounding heart, I hastily changed the subject.

[Kara]: “Um… Where are we going tonight?” [Count]: “Oh my, did you forget? Today’s the anniversary of the day we met, of all things.” [Kara]: “Of course I didn’t forget. It was the day I changed my own fate, and met you— A day I cherish so very much.” [Count]: “It’s the same for me; And it’s precisely why we’re going to a place where I may reaffirm my love.” (“Love”…?) When I tilted my head, the Count gave a meaningful smile, saying nothing more.

With that—

The place the stagecoach had arrived, was a church I recognized. (This is… the place where we had confirmed our love for one another.) The Count took my hand before we entered, the moonlight silently illuminating the unoccupied altar.

[Count]: “I have decided from my heart— that on this day, and on every day we call ‘our anniversary’—" I shall proclaim my vows to you once more.”

[Count]: “Kara— This is my oath of eternal love to you.” Before the altar, the Count kneeled before taking my left hand, dropping a reverent kiss on my ring finger. [Kara]: “nh- Ah-…” A sweet numbness ran from my finger, and my heart skipped a beat.

[Count]: “The time I spend with you, is filled with a dazzling brilliance.” [Count]: “—Filled to the point where I believe those centuries I had of embracing nothingness, came to be for the purpose of being able to meet you…” [Count]: “If you would allow it— For the future to come, with you by my side, I shall continue to swear such (to you).”

[Count]: “And thus, I wish that one day, I shall become one with you. —That is the greatest happiness I seek.”

He then rose to his feet, embracing me as if to envelop me whole. With my cheek pressed against his chest, I could feel his heart beating as fast as mine. (Like this, it’s as if I’m becoming one with the Count— With Abel.)

He tenderly brushed my hair aside before running a finger down my neck. One day, fangs will sink into this very spot, and love from a pureblooded vampire – called “eternity” – will be spilled within. Thinking about such things, my heart grew full— and tears were about to fall down my face, involuntarily.

[Kara]: “Abel… me too, I-…”

Overcome with emotion, I was at loss for words— When an almost-biting kiss fell upon me, cutting off my words. His tongue caught mine through my broken lips, our hot sighs immediately laden with heat.

[Count]: “—There is no need for words.” His lips only barely parting from mine, he whispered with a glossy sigh.

[Count]: “The tears brimming in your eyes, tell me everything— that you belong to me.” [Kara]: “Ah-… Abel…” His gentle - but also denying any notion of resistance – and sweet kiss, deepened, desiring me and only me. I embraced him with all my strength, abandoning myself to this happiness that will last forever and ever…

FIN (2)

Ikevam has been kind of boring if u dun like the top 5 all that much but i mean always has been astronaut_gun.jpg

anyway, the election was mostly a skip for me this year cuz i dun care for mini figures. also, he was doing awful in categories bc ppl are voting characters over several categories (rather than just the recommended one). frankly i think it’s dumb to vote a character in anything other than the “officially” recommended category bc the chance of losing in all categories is much higher than getting stuff in >1 category (e.g., with the midterm results u can see vlad in every category, but he’s only eligible for a benefit in one…when he could easily just win in one category period). but maybe that way of thinking is too tryhard for a game that only barely fits the definition of a game #realgamurz #weliveinasociety

i honestly didn’t do (aka pay) much and ranked rly well in character rankings. so i was happy i got decent stuff, but sadder he doesn’t get much support;; u telling me the richest guy has the stingiest fans. yes. i mean look at me, microwave pizza is my life

sorry for the lack of updates. as usual but uh better to be annoying with no updates than with too much RITE haha yes………. yes

as always, thanks for reading!

#ikemen vampire #spoilers #ikevam #ikevam spoilers #comte de saint germain #ikevam tl #fucc i dun even remember my own tags LOL

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misterewrites · 3 years

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Secret Agent Bard (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here with a new chapter of the underground! Woo! I hope you are all doing good and staying safe.

So I actually have more to say today! That's a trip. I’ll have an author’s note under the line.

So that's it for now. Stay safe, take care of you and your loved ones, stay out of trouble, wash your hands, wear your mask, get vaccinated if you can and push to release the vaccine world wide cuz we're all in this together. Have a great week and thanks for reading. I appreciate it and feel free to tell your friends, reblog, drop likes and feedback i love it all. Bye for now and enjoy!

If you want an easier place to read the story cuz tumblr sucks sometimes here’s a link to the chapter https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/79541746

The First Chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967

and since you made it this far here’s a link to all my stories!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Byeeeeee!

Author’s note: Today’s work will be a little different as there will be singing. The chapter with the bard is gonna have singing? Go figure haha So if you see a sentence in Italics, that means someone is singing. Bold and italics represents various people singing as a group. The song in question is called twiddles. There's different versions of it but the one I chose is from the misbehavin maidens. Great group but all their work ranges from innuendos to straight up not safe for work so listen at your peril. I have now completed my responsible adult duties haha. here’s a link to the chosen song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS1-_fKF5ug

Summary: Oliver has quite the task ahead of him as the group splits to achieve their goals. Leading Sel and Flora, the young bard will have to think quick on his feet to ensure this mission is a success. Luckily he's an old hand at this. Ironically the one person who could distract him may make a surprise appearance tonight.

-----

Oliver stood quietly, arms crossed and his mind thoughtful as the group prepared to go their separate ways. While ideally nothing would go wrong, that was a childish belief: Every person and robotic being here knew safety was not guaranteed in their line of work.

Even the old man knew the risks.

Oliver hated doing nothing. He thrived when he was busy, focused on whatever task required his attention whether it be being a better bard or upholding the Choir’s values. Too many ghosts and regrets lingered on the edges of his mind and he found the best solution was to simply keep occupied.

But that was his coping mechanism, not everyone else. He knew better than to rush his team: The party would last at least another few hours and beside the goal of getting Sel to the third floor, there was nothing else to do. No information to gather, nothing to review. Let them have their moment, it was good for morale.

Terri and Flora were sickeningly adorable: Hands clasped tightly with Terri tearfully asking her girlfriend to not poison everyone. Flora gave a halfhearted promise while as they shared a tender kiss. Terri noticed her less than enthused tone but refused to press the matter further.

Tyrell stood awkwardly to the side, his face twisted in a strange mixture of sick and excited. He fidgeted with something in his pocket, seeking comfort from whatever lay within. Given the shape of the bulge and size, Oliver guessed it was a knife.

Sel stood nearby, motionless in the shadows of the alley. They hadn’t moved in some time though he suspected the automaton was simply waiting for the next phase of the plan.

“Alright” Oliver spoke up, his voice firm yet gentle “Times up. You have your assignments?”

Uneven murmuring responded.

“Let’s go.”

Oliver, Sel and Flora went down one end of the alley, Terri and Tyrell disappearing in the opposite direction.

-----

It didn’t take long for the trio to find the main streets of the Merchant Ward and make their way towards the Brambleoak banking office. The crowds weren’t as thick as they had been during the day but Oliver knew everyone out and about did so with a purpose.

“Bard.” Flora asked without warning, breaking the awkward silence “Question.”

“Answer.” Oliver cheekily replied.

Flora glared.

Oliver coughed “Yes?”

“You are a First Chair Soprano correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yet you are so young. How did you manage that? I thought First Chair ranks were only reserved for experienced or particularly skilled members. You don’t seem to be very magically powerful.”

Oliver paused for a moment, trying to best answer the question.

In a way Flora was correct in her assessment: He wasn’t particularly powerful as a spellcasting bard. Unlike Flora who clearly committed herself fully to nature and thus druidic magic, Oliver had only recently thrown himself into the magical arts.

Unless you were a wizard who studied the secrets of the universe with a very intimate and well versed knowledge of magic, most spellcasters drew their power from sources of existence: Clerics from their gods, Druids from nature, Warlocks from something beyond mortal existence yet not quite a deity, sorcerers because a family member fucked around with pure incomprehensible concepts. Magic was the fabric of the universe and the more you threw yourself into a source of power, the more the source threw itself into you, guiding your hand and your spells.

Of course each, wizards exempt, were limited in their spellcasting options. Clerics were powerful holy/unholy practitioners but couldn’t command plant life to save their lives. Druids were in tune with nature and the weather and all the lovely flora and fauna but ask them to superimpose an image onto something and they’d give you a dumbfounded look. Warlocks kinda just do whatever their sugar patrons felt like lending.

Magic bards drew their power from the arts: Drawing, singing, poetry, even witty and funny satire. Bards were in tune with life, with existence. Art could heal, could hurt, could make you feel happy and sad. It could make you feel like a whole new person or perhaps take you to a time and place you’d forgotten. Bards sung the song of life and Oliver was no exception.

However, Oliver still wasn’t sure what he could do exactly. His magical muscle was average on a good day and he could only cast a few spells before needing a good night’s rest. The basic healing spells and comprehension language he cast earlier today had taken a good chunk of his energy but he relied more on his wit than raw magical strength. He discovered creative and useful ways to cast his spells like amplifying dissonance noises to distract and disorient foes or temporarily place another person’s image over himself. Magic was as much about creativity as it was skill, pushing the limits of what you can do with your particular brand of spells.

“I’m clever.” Oliver answered honestly “The whole magic of the arts is new to me but I’ve been in the Choir for a long time now. I used to be Tenor like Sel here but more fast talking than breaking and entering. I guess they carried over my old position into my new one.”

Flora nodded, satisfied “That answers much. How long have you been a bard?”

“Few years now.” Oliver checked the street sign to ensure they were on the right path “The magic part is going on 3 years.”

“I see.” Flora scratched her chin “I’ve been a druid my whole life so it is a strange concept to be so new to the spellcasting arts yet hold such a high rank.”

Oliver gave a casual shrug “Not sure what you want me to say. We’re here by the way.”

The bank looked as unkempt as Oliver had remembered: Faded, peeling green paint with gaudy gray stone pillars. Two guards in green uniforms stood in front of the massive reddish brown doors that led into the bank.

“Lea’s mercenaries.” Sel pointed out “They are not letting anyone in.”

“Correction.” Oliver brushed off nonexistent dirt from his washed-out outfit “They’re not letting nobodies in. Luckily tonight we’re somebodies. Follow my lead.”

Oliver let out a tense breathe before strolling forward, his mannerism cocky yet unsteady. He reached the top of the steps when two sharp looking blades reached out to stop him.

“Halt” The elvish woman spoke with a hint of irritation “You lost?”

“Not at all!” Oliver beamed with a smile that was too wide to be natural “I’m here for the party. There is a party inside no?”

“No” The human man spat out.

Oliver gave a forgetful grin “Oh? I could’ve sworn Brambleoak was having some sort of charity event tonight. I’d show you my invite but I think I misplaced it.”

The elvish woman sneered “Right. How convenient for you having lost your special one of a kind invite.”

“Pfft.” Oliver scoffed “Special one of a kind invite? Reiner hands them out like candy. Probably find one in a gutter nearby.”

The guards shared an unspoken understanding with one another.

“Well.” The human began “Let’s pretend that is true.”

“It is but go on.”

The human’s eyes narrowed “Why should we let you in? You dress rather poorly for someone claiming to be in Reiner’s usual circles.”

Oliver let out an exaggerated gasp as he puffed out his chest “Do you know who I am?”

“Umm no.”

Oliver growled unhappily, his fist clenched tightly within his pocket “I am rich! I AM POWERFUL! AND I DEMAND ACCESS!”

As quick as lightning, Oliver flung a handful of gold coins towards the pair. The two reeled back in surprised as the money clanked onto the smooth marble floor. A moment hardly passed before the guards were shoving the loose coins into their tunic pockets like hungry dogs. They straightened up, eyes alive with greed.

“Of course sir” The elvish woman bowed her head in apologize “Deeply sorry for that.”

“Please go ahead.”

Oliver gave a self satisfied nod before moving past the pair only to stop as he heard the sounds of swords scraping each other. He turned backwards to see the guards barring access to Flora and Sel.

Flora looked back and forth between the guards, her eyes calculating and cold. Sel stood still but clearly at the ready for any sort of trouble.

“They’re with me.”

The Elvish woman shook her head “We said we’d let you in. These two? Definitely not Reiner’s usual prey.”

“They aren’t” Oliver admitted “But I need them.”

The human turned to him, suspicion in his eyes “Why?”

“She…” Oliver pointed lazily towards Flora “Is my street doctor.”

“Street doctor? As in….?”

Oliver gave a cheery wink “The fun kind.” And for give measure, he added a weak shiver to his act “Ugggggh I feel cold, are you cold? It’s cold.”

Before anyone could say anything, Oliver began shaking. He rubbed his hands for ‘warmth’ while swaying back and forth.

“Uh oh.” Flora spoke dully, pushing past the guards and holding Oliver steady “He’s crashing. I need to give him his umm medicine.”

“Medicine?” Oliver repeated, his voice soft yet manic “Yes medicine. I need it. I NEED IT!”

Folks began to turn their way, the guards shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention they were receiving.

“And this one?” The Elvish woman gestured to Sel.

Oliver began to rock back and forth, his voice a harsh whisper. “Guard. Guard. Guard guard guard guard.”

The human threw up his hands in defeat “Bah! Get him in there and fixed! Any trouble and I’ll personally come over to beat your asses.”

“Thank you sir.” Flora murmured through gritted teeth. She guided Oliver and Sel through the doors and into the party within.

Flora sighed as Sel cracked the tension out of their fingers. Oliver straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

True to his expectations, the bank had been altered to be suitable for a charity event: Torches lined the walls, casting the building into a bright light. The desks normally found on the floor were gone as to allow a more spacious setting. Oliver counted a handful of guards scattered about, wandering about for any sign of trouble. All except for the lone guard beyond the empty elevated platform who stood in front of the stairway to the upper floors.

“What now?” Flora asked

“Split up. Sel stay close to the door, Flora and I will figure out a distraction.”

“Sounds good.”

And without another word, Oliver was swallowed whole into the crowd.

-----

It had taken an hour for Oliver to figure out what kind of distraction he would need.

The patrols themselves hadn’t been very difficult to plan for: They would move randomly about, keeping an eye on the party and each other. He counted about 6 of them total and each one of them was easily starstruck. At the sign of any disagreement, they would swarm in groups of three and quickly threaten any troublemakers into compliance. However, upon meeting anyone with even the smallest bit of fame, they would subtly motion to each other and make their way as one to the person in question, hoping for a glance or the chance for an autograph.

So the floor guards were no problem but the one standing watch over the door was much more difficult. Evidently Lea was smart enough to give the most important job to the most responsible of his idiots. The stairway guard or Stairy as Oliver labeled him, would not budge at the sign of any trouble. Loud arguments, agitated party goers, a waiter being tripped (sorry it was for science buddy). None of these would pull him from his post. Celebrities wouldn’t either. Any time his buddies motioned to a famous person, he would shrug his shoulders and stay put.

Oliver was beginning to wonder if Flora needed to poison Stairy until he noticed something about half way into his observations: Stairy was a music lover. Specifically a cute girl music lover.

His gaze would wander every time he caught sight of a pretty girl who happened to be too close to him. Oliver wasn’t sure at first so he decided to test his theory. With his pocket change lessened, Oliver noticed how often a girl would catch Stairy’s eye. His attention didn’t shift when they fell in front of him, obviously in distress, or walked slower allowing him to enjoy the view longer but Oliver caught him smiling and tapping his foot when the odd girl would sing. He even staggered away from his door a few steps at a time before catching himself and returning to his post.

So the best distraction would be a girl who could sing and have some level of fame attached to her name.

Oddly specific and Oliver hadn’t the slightest idea how he was going to mange that. He was attempting to solve this puzzle when something caught his ear.

“Get off me you mulched dirt licker!”

That rather unique set of cursing could only mean one thing: Flora.

Oliver turned to where he last spotted her and found the young druid being hassled by a tall man in an elegant uniform.

Oliver noticed the guards were looking about, not yet spotting the commutation but aware something was going on. He needed to act first if he wanted to stop Flora deciding to kill everyone in the room.

The bard quickly slipped into the crowd, darting and weaving between any and everyone he could. He saw Flora slip a small vial into her hand as the man towered over her.

“I jus wanna dance.” the man’s words slurred out of his mouth “A pretty thing like yo shou wanna dance”

Flora’s eyes narrowed angrily “For the last time you dried poop stain, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Flora pulled back her hand, prepared to throw the mysterious vial at the drunk’s face.

“Whoa!” Oliver cried out, tightly grasping onto Flora’s wrist “What seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing I can’t solve on my own.” Flora coldly glanced towards the drunken man.

“One sec.”

Oliver eyed the man carefully, absorbing every little detail he could.

He could see the muscles strain against the fabric of his light green tunic so this man worked in something physically laborious. The sheathed sword on his belt weight seemed to throw him off balance with every step. His gaze was unsteady and Oliver could see his pupils dilating wildly.

So this man was physically fit, armed with a sword in a charity event for the rich people and wearing light green tunic while currently drunk.

“You should leave her alone” Oliver said, sarcasm dipping from each word “You are so not her type.”

“So?” The man hiccupped “What’s the big deal?”

“So she’s got a girlfriend you idiot.” Oliver gestured with his hand “Besides you should go before your boss Lea gets here. I’m betting he won’t be happy one of his undercover mercs is currently drunk on the job. Of course I could always tell your captain what’s going on. That’s him over there right?”

Oliver gestured to the closest guard making his way towards the trio. He didn’t look any different than any guards but Oliver noticed his green was a shade darker than the rest. Lea probably used different hues to signify rank in his mercenaries.

The drunk’s face paled as he fidgeted nervously. He rose his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the two “Sorry.”

“Any trouble?” The captain approached, his hand tightly held around the hilt of his blade.

Oliver beaned cheerfully, trying his best to pull attention away from the fuming Flora “Not at all my good sir. This man simply mistook us for someone else, correct?”

The drunk nodded slowly “My bad. Forgive my intrusion.”

The captain gave a cold smirk “Apologizes. Mikey?”

The drunk flinched “Yes sir?”

“A word in private. Now.”

Oliver let out a sigh of relief as the captain dragged Mikey away..

“You should’ve let me poison them.” Flora muttered darkly.

Oliver scratched the back of his neck tiredly “Night’s still young. Still might get your chance if I can’t figure a way past Stairy.”

Flora tilted her head quizzically “Stairy?”

“The asshole at the base of the stairs.” Oliver answered absentmindedly as he spotted a familiar streak of platinum blonde hair among the crowd of strangers “And I just figured it out. Can I trust you not to poison everyone here?”

“You have an hour. I get bored easily” Flora swirled the sickly purple liquid in the vial threateningly.

“You and me both.” Oliver patted her shoulder before chasing down his perfect distraction.

-----

Oliver’s heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, a nervous and uncontrollable energy overtaking his resolve. The mission was important but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see Maria today.

Maria Thoreau was the daughter of a powerful, influential family. The Thoreau’s were more concerned with their standing in high society than any virtuous endeavors and thus each one of their children was trained from birth to excel in their chosen field. Maria’s older brothers were an aspiring politician and merchant respectively.

Maria’s path was to be a well famous singer and patron of the arts. She wanted nothing more than to sing for the people. Unfortunately, her father only saw a chance to further the family’s good name and tied his desire for power with her passion and dream. It was bittersweet really but nothing much could be done about it.

Yet.

Maria knew Oliver as a musical rival who thwarted her group’s attempts at winning local competitions which in turned derailed her father’s plans. So needless to say she was less than thrilled when she caught him making his way over.

“Ollie” she forced a smile while her hazel eyes narrowed, peeved “I’m surprised to see they let you into this exclusive event.”

Oliver gave a cocky shrug “Well your beauty caught my attention and I couldn’t resist trying to figure out a way in.”

Maria’s cheeks burned a pinkish hue.

Maria was the same age as Oliver with short, tastefully cut dark brown hair. A single streak of platinum blonde hair hung off the side of her face, giving her such a cute look. Her clothes were practical tonight since she wasn’t performing: A simple white blouse with a long flowing dark blue skirt that went all the way down to her feet. Her shoes were sensible dark blue flats designed for comfort over style.

Maria coughed into her hand, willing her blush away.

“So.” She cleared her throat “Is this your sad attempt to throw me off my game? You won’t win the next competition. We’ll be dealing with professional judges this time.”

Oliver’s eyes widen in false surprise “There’s a competition here? Fancy that. I hadn’t been made aware of that but since we’re both in town, why not have a round two?”

“Oliver….”

“I mean” Oliver went on, pretending not have heard “You are a much better singer solo than with those harpies you’re forced to keep around.”

Maria glanced to the side timidly “Don’t be absurd, the Melodic Maidens are a perfect, well oiled machine.”

Oliver scoffed dismissively “I suppose they’re nearby, listening in. Hardly leave you alone, don’t they?”

Maria opened her mouth to respond when a shrilly voice cut in.

“What do you know you two bit hack? How much did you bribe the judges last time?!”

Oliver gave a strained smile as the rest of the ladies forced their way into view.

“Lilly, Filly, Sally. You suck.”

The triplets snarled in unison, openly glaring at the bard.

Lilly, Filly and Sally were Maria’s chains: They were as much there to further her career as they were to report back to daddy to ensure the errant daughter stayed on course.

As triplets, they all shared the same features: Three pairs of dull green eyes and long messy black hair. Even their clothing were the same with each wearing a strapless dress that showed way too much skin and skirts that were way too short. The only reason Oliver could tell them apart was due to their preferred colors: Lilly in a shade of pink that was bright for her skin tone, Filly with a pale ugly yellow and Sally in seas of dark red.

The trio surrounded Maria, their arms embracing her in an uncomfortable hug. Maria bit her lip, trying to hide her uneasy.

“Still wearing that tacky outfit huh Ollie?” Lilly eyed his faded clothing distastefully.

Sally let out an unfriendly laugh “Ollie always looks like trash. Not even prize money could buy an ounce of class.”

“Actually” Oliver brushed his shoulder dismissively “Class is cheap. No amount of money could buy an ounce of character. You can blow hot air at me all you want but nothing in this world could ever change the fact that the three of you are bitches.”

The trio clicked their tongues disappointingly, their normally plain faces twisted into unflattering visages of rage while they screamed as one.

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT US?!”

“YOU ARE SUCH A POOR TACTLESS MAN!”

“YOU FUCKER!”

Oliver casually waved his hand “All bark and no bite. I’m supposed believe you’ve gotten any better in two months? Last time I checked I won the last competition.”

“OH YEAH?!” The triplets yelled, furious.

Maria threw a suspicious glance Oliver’s way “Girls, I don’t think…”

“Come on Maria, we don’t want to have to tell daddy you backed down from a challenge.”

A shiver ran down her spine, the fight draining out of her face. Oliver felt a tinge of guilt but said nothing as the girls took their positions.

Maria paused for a moment, her breathing slow and calm. The murmur of the crowds grew louder and louder upon the recognition that the ladies nearby were the Melodic Maidens.

Maria pivoted on her heels, a bright warm smile gracing her lips. Oliver could feel his heart skip a beat at the sound of her soft, airy voice beginning to sing

“Oh you hear a lot of stories about the sailors and their sport” Maria gave a playful wink his way. His cheeks burned brightly at her playful banter.

“About how every sailor has a girl in every port”

Maria twirled, her steps mischievous and alluring as her dark blue dress chased after her. She gracefully held two fingers aloft for everything to see, her smirk cocky and assured.

“but if you added two and two you’d figure out right quick”

Maria backed up as the triplets step forward to join her, the group made whole and ready for the chorus.

“It’s just because the girls all have a lad on every ship”

Maria turned to throw a sultry look towards her rival bard but instead of finding a dumbstruck Oliver, she found a smiling one. His gaze was gentle and loving as if he was seeing utterly beautiful. A small smile was tugging at his cheeks. Maria could feel her heart thunder in her ears as, without warning, Oliver gave a thumbs up and mouthed an appreciative “Thanks” before ducking into the growing crowd.

“And it’s twiddley idle idle idle, twiddley idle aye.”

What was once a spattering of folks formed into a massive gathering. Most of the party goers and guards had come over to catch the free show the girls inadvertently given and thus all focus shifted onto them. What was an attempt to show up Oliver ended up being a very unnecessary showcase.

“It’s often times a man will leave you broken with dismay”

Boy was Maria feeling that dismay right now.

-----

Oliver’s plan worked: Stairy hadn’t been to resist the siren call of a beautiful woman and her singing. Luckily the harpies hadn’t ruined it with their imperfect pitches. Stairy hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Sel slipped in behind and began working at the door. It took a moment but one blink later and the automaton vanished out of sight.

Oliver let out a sigh when a hand gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Hello sir.” A guff, low voice in a less than friendly voice “Might I have a word? You’ve been acting rather strange all party long.”

Well fuck.

#Welcome to the Underground #My Story #Original Work #original story

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Text

Team Bonding

fr when was the last time i posted like,,, a fic on here. like a tumblr fic. damn. anyway. ummmmmmmm this is just your.... typical steve freaks out and the avengers are awesome um yah ok ok

warnings: panic attack, vomiting (basically steve watches the titanic and doesnt have a very fun time)

word count: 2575

If Steve was being brutally honest with himself, he was fucking tired of hearing about “the classics”. Irrelevant people butting their noses into his business, tipping him off to what movies were, “the best of the best!” and “absolute must sees!” He appreciated what they were trying to do, but after a while, it felt like people were more or less just trying to garner a slice of his 21st century experience, and quite frankly, he liked doing things better by himself. It was much more appealing to park himself in front of his laptop, nothing but his own quietude to keep him company as he combed through different wikipedia rabbit holes and caught up on movies and TV shows that were apparently crucial to his very existence.

Most were subpar and honestly, he preferred the copious amounts of popcorn he treated himself to on these solo date nights, but some things surprised him. Like Indiana Jones. He liked Indiana Jones. He was neat, and Marion reminded him vaguely of Peggy.

Still, he supposed he should have seen it coming when Clint came to collect him from his floor one evening, that sort of eager-puppy energy he carried around with him vaguely prickling the back of Steve’s neck.

“C’mon, man,” he was saying. Steve leaned against the door jamb, tired. He was going to concede, but Clint was rambling and Steve knew better than to interrupt him. “It’s, like, certifiably the best love story ever. You need to watch it--”

And there it was again. That fucking claim. You need to watch this! You haven’t seen that?

No. He hadn’t. He’d been a little busy, you know, being dead.

“--And the acting is all so raw and it’s just-- Leo DiCaprio-- you know who that--”

“--Yes. I saw Blood Diamond--”

“--Oh, you did? Well, anyway, he rocks in this and--”

“Clint,” Steve cut him off smoothly. “I’ll come, don’t sweat it too hard.”

Clint looked positively elated. “You will?” he exclaimed. “Awesome, yeah, it’s gonna be the whole team. I mean, that’s good right? You’re cool with that? You gotta be, you’re the one who mentioned team bonding that one time--”

“Yes,” Steve cut in again. “I’m alright with that. Give me a minute to change, and I’ll be right down?” He was still in his gym clothes from two hours ago. He meant to take a shower, but he’d sort of… ran out of energy. The sweat had cooled by now anyway. He smelled fine.

“Oh! Yeah, no problem.”

Which was how Steve found himself in a pair of sweatpants and an old SHIELD t-shirt, squashed in between Natasha and Bruce on the communal couch. Someone had handed him a huge bowl of popcorn and Steve was pleasantly surprised to find that it was flavored with some sort of cheese powder.

“White cheddar,” Bruce said, holding up a little blue shaker bottle when he heard Steve’s appreciative hum. “They’re, uh, sort of like seasoning, but for popcorn specifically. They come in all different kinds of flavors.”

“Oh, neat,” Steve said, around another handful of popcorn. He liked Bruce. He seemed to get Steve in that quiet, brutally raw sort of way. A quiet kinship. They didn’t talk about it, but he never made him feel condescended, so Steve decided that was okay.

“I think I fixed it!” Tony said, stepping out from behind the ginormous movie screen where, presumably, he’d been fixing a volume problem. The screen had been frozen on the first frame of the movie for nearly ten minutes. “Okay, okay, let’s see…” he pressed play. Music poured through the speakers on either side of the TV, loud enough so that everyone cringed and Steve nearly dropped the popcorn bowl in his haste to cover his ears. He always managed to forget how damn loud the world could be when he let himself get comfortable.

“Sorry, sorry!” Tony hissed, turning the volume down to a much more tolerable level. “Okay, there. Okay, shh everyone. Gotta let Capsicle--”

“--Just Steve, Tony--”

“--Gotta let Just Steve get the full experience.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but settled in to watch.

The film was honestly better than Steve had been expecting, if not a little… itchy in that way period films tended to be for him. The themes of poverty and love were pretty well-rounded, but they hit just close enough that he almost cringed at the far-fetch’d beauty of it.

Still, his fingers itched for a pencil as Jack guided a pencil over the worn sheaf of paper. The dim light, the faint scratch of the pencil, the forbidden love. It was familiar. Steve could almost smell the salty City air, afternoons spent under the dim lights of candles so they could see even with the curtains drawn-- a semblance of privacy amongst the compact vulnerability of his and Bucky’s shitty little tenement.

Draw me like one of your french girls, Rose had said, and Steve’s eyes drifted towards the wall, Bucky’s voice echoing through his head.

“‘Course I want you to draw me. I ain’t denying my vanity, Stevie,” he teased, but his eyes were soft. “Pal, you could draw a stick of butter and I’d still wanna watch. It ain’t about me here.”

There was a soft touch to his arm and Steve blinked out of his reverie. Natasha was watching him, a neutral look on her face that Steve had finally learned to recognize as concern. He shook his head minutely, offering her a smile. She nodded and looked back at the TV.

The rest of the movie passed without much excitement. The acting was pretty good and Steve had even gotten to a point where he could recognize the filmmaking as something like revolutionary for the time it came out. He was quicker on the cultural uptake than people gave him credit for, but that was neither here nor there. He laughed with everyone else, let himself grow somber when the atmosphere lent that mood, and generally, it was a nice time. He hadn’t gone to any movie nights before this, but he thought maybe he’d start going to more.

And then the ship hit the iceberg.

Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Obviously, he knew of the Titanic-- he knew, historically, what happened to it. But for some reason, it hadn’t quite hit him while watching the movie that he was going to have to see the catastrophe go down.

There was a loud creaking of ice on metal as the collision occurred on screen and Steve felt himself go still-- body rigid and tense as the deafening noise played through the speakers. His heart slammed in his chest and he felt his palms start to sweat. He knew that sound-- he knew that--

--He blinked, shaking his head. Movie. Watch the movie. There was a panicked scramble on screen. Characters rushing to amend the situation, more metal creaking and groaning and breaking as dark, foamy water broke through the sides of the ship and Steve could taste it, he could taste the water flooding into the cabin, hitting him from the left as it took the plane down in a harsh--

--He twitched, shaking his head. He was being silly. There were moments of reconciliation as the scenes rapidly flashed between water flooding the ships cabins and peaceful moments of civility. A calm before the storm. A final dance before death.

I’m gonna need a raincheck on that dance…

There was a sudden crash as water blasted through into the work quarters and Steve jumped, watching transfixed as unforgiving torrents pushed workers over, flooding them, drowning them, and they were falling, slipping, sliding, panicking as certain death met them at the halfway point, and Steve knew it must be cold. So cold. Suffocating and unforgiving as it flooded their lungs, saltier than they probably imagined, heavy and awful and--

“Stark, turn the movie off.”

The room went abruptly silent. Steve realized his eyes were closed, chest heaving as he sat, hunched over his lap, hands fisted in his hair.

The popcorn wasn’t on his lap anymore. When had he moved? He couldn’t breathe and he was so cold and someone needed to save those guys, someone needed to--

“Steve,” a gentle voice cut into the roaring waves crashing in his head. Bruce. That was Bruce speaking. “Can you hear me, Steve?”

Steve nodded, pulling his hair harder. He couldn’t breathe. Was he drowning again? Surely that was impossible. If Bruce was talking to him, he couldn’t be drowning again, but-- but the water-- and-- and the cold--

“Good, that’s good, Steve,” Bruce. Bruce again. It was Bruce. “Can I touch you?”

Touch. Touch. No touch. He was so cold. He wanted to stop being cold, but he was certain if someone touched him right now, he would lose his goddamn mind. More so than he already had.

“That’s alright,” Bruce sounded steady. Calm. So calm. Why couldn’t Steve calm down? “That’s okay. You think you can do something for me?”

Something… for Bruce? Could he? Could he do anything right then? If he couldn’t breathe, how could he do anything-- and he-- he felt sick--

He opened his mouth to answer and vomited between his feet, straight onto the carpet. Someone in the room hissed sympathetically. Steve wanted to crawl somewhere and die.

“Oh, Steve,” Bruce seemed to be talking mostly to himself, but Steve felt his shoulders climb higher towards his ears. “Okay, Steve, I need you to listen to my voice. Just listen. I’m going to count and you’re going to breathe in time with my instruction, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Steve shook his head, choking on a sob. His chest hurt. Like someone had taken all of his ribs and replaced them with weights, flooding his lungs with-- with water-- and fuck, now he was thinking about the plane again. He felt his breathing tick up higher.

“I want you to try,” Bruce said. “With me. In,” he sucked in a breath. “One… two… three… four…”

Steve tried to suck in a breath, but all he managed to do was send himself into a coughing fit. Bruce kept counting. Steve wanted to tell him to wait-- slow down-- shut up--

He braced a hand over his chest.

Bruce was still counting.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually he found himself matching Bruce’s counts, eyes closed and the heels of his palms braced on his temples as he sucked in greedy, measured breaths. His heart was still slamming hard enough to make him tremble and he could smell his own sick wafting up from the ground, but at least he was breathing on his own.

Bruce trailed off. Silence hung thick in the air, the only noise Steve’s slow, shaking breaths. Shame burned around his ears. He didn’t dare look up.

Tony, predictably, was the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry, Steve,” he said, and Steve was surprised to hear honest regret in his voice. “I was the one who suggested we watch Titanic. I should have thought for more than two seconds about that…”

Steve shrugged. Embarrassment climbed from his stomach to his throat, threatening to choke him.

Natasha spoke next. “Why don’t you go wash up?” It was an escape-- a way out-- and Steve took it graciously, keeping his head ducked down as he stood on shaking legs and rushed to the communal bathroom.

Inside, he locked the door and braced himself over the sink, splashing warm water on his face. He drank greedily from the tap. His reflection looked like shit-- he’d burst some blood vessels in his eyes, probably while vomiting, and his skin looked sallow and pale. He was trembling, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. He looked how he looked after a nightmare. This, he supposed, had kind of been like a nightmare. Though, he hadn’t been asleep.

Nightmares, he was finding, weren’t strictly exclusive to the nighttime.

He supposed he’d always known that, though.

He closed his eyes, bowing his head again.

His emotions had been fucked to high hell since waking up from the ice. This hadn’t been the first of those awful… fits, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last, but to have something like that happen in front of the team was a whole new level of mortifying. Fuck. He’d gotten sick. And he’d left it.

He felt the ceramic counter straining under his grip. Scowling, he let go.

He could slip off to his room, lock himself away until he could find some way to sneak out of the Tower and never talk to any of the others ever again. Even in this state, Steve knew that wasn’t viable in any sense. He sighed. Besides, he couldn’t just damn the others to clean up his mess.

Stowing his pride, he dug some spare mouthwash out from behind the mirror and chugged some straight down, keeping a mouthful and swishing it around before spitting it in the sink. He still felt and looked like shit, but at least his breath would smell like wintergreen.

The others were still gathered in the communal living room, watching what looked like a kid’s cartoon on TV. There was a distinct smell of cleaner in the air and Steve’s eyes landed on the ground where he’d gotten sick. It was clean. He let his eyes drop to the ground, ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. The cartoon paused. He didn’t look at any of them. “I was going to clean up.”

“Nah, man, the only thing worse than freaking out is having to clean up after yourself while you still feel shitty,” Clint said, and Steve looked up. There was no pity in his gaze, only understanding.

“Yeah, we’ve all been there,” Tony said. “Sucks, but hey, least we know now that Titanic is a no-no for you.”

Steve flushed, swallowing a few times. “Um, I guess,” he looked at Bruce. “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled. “No problem,” he said gently. “We’re watching Phineas and Ferb if you’d like to join us, but we understand if you’d like to go rest.”

“Phineas and Ferb?” Steve asked, guilt replaced with genuine confusion.

“Yeah,” Clint said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “It’s my go-to when I have a bad day. Nothing like some good old platypus drama to cure life’s woes.”

Steve blinked. “I genuinely don’t know what to say to that.”

Clint barked out a laugh. “Join us, man! Don’t gotta talk if you’re not feeling it, but being alone after shit like that sucks.”

And Steve hadn’t had someone there for him after a breakdown-- not since the war. Not since Bucky. Every ounce of him wanted to run. Hide. Smooth out his face and slip on that mask of stoicism. But maybe… maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe he could let himself have this, if only this once.

“Sure,” he said, voice a little hoarse. He awkwardly sat back in between Natasha and Bruce.

Tony pressed play again and Steve smoothed his hands over his thighs, feeling out of place and a little cramped and--

Natasha settled, casually letting her feet rest on his lap. On his other side, Bruce leaned into his shoulder, a subtle, grounding pressure. Clint caught his eye and offered him some more popcorn.

Steve relaxed.

Yeah. He could let himself have this.

thanks for reading, chiefs

yeah this was chatted about in one of the awesome discord groups im in so thanks guyysss lol

#marvel shit #marvel #Steve Rogers #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #Avengers #team bonding #yes #avengers fic #i love them all #dlakjfl #ok #crawling back into my hole #im definitely supposed to be doing homework

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lilyvandersteen · 3 years

Text

The Christmas Guest Chapter 10

Author’s Note: Here’s Blaine’s point of view of the kiss and what comes after. Fluff galore. Enjoy!

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 and Chapter 9 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 10: Part of the Family

As soon as Blaine’s lips touched Kurt’s, he felt Kurt freeze for a moment, but just when he wanted to draw back and apologize, Kurt let out the softest sigh and melted against him. He also started kissing back, and held Blaine as if he’d never let go again. It made Blaine completely forget where he was and why. All that existed was Kurt, and how he felt, and how he tasted, and how he made Blaine’s head whirl with the simplest touch.

Blaine had no idea how much time had passed when the two of them were jolted apart by another party-goer, but it was not nearly long enough. He blinked hazily at Kurt, who looked as kiss-drunk as Blaine felt, and then at the people around them, who were… counting?

Oh. Right. New Year. Oh, brilliant, then we can kiss some more!

As soon as everybody started yelling Happy New Year, Blaine kissed Kurt again, reveling in the fact that he could, and that Kurt seemed to welcome his attentions. They needed to talk about this, yes, but first… First, he was going to enjoy this!

Again, he had to stop before he was ready to, this time because one of Kurt’s friends took offence to their PDA. They were quickly defended by Kurt’s other friends, but Blaine could tell Kurt felt uncomfortable, so he didn’t protest when Kurt wanted to go home, though he was a bit apprehensive about the conversation they would be having once they were back in Kurt’s room. Had he overstepped Kurt’s boundaries without realizing? Had Kurt only kissed back to keep up appearances? Surely, Blaine couldn’t have misread the situation that badly?

He chanced a quick glance at Kurt, who hadn’t said a word since they left the party, but his face was unreadable. He was shivering, though, and at once, Blaine’s preoccupations flew out of his head and he only thought of warming up Kurt.

In thanks for his efforts, Kurt sent him a glowing smile, which kept Blaine going until they were back in Kurt’s bedroom, putting their pajamas on, still in silence. By the time Blaine slipped into bed, his skin was skittering with all the feelings and words cooped up inside of him. As he cuddled up to Kurt, he couldn’t keep it all in anymore, and he burst out into an apology – right at the same time as Kurt started talking.

Well, not so much talking as asking for an explanation. Which was only fair, of course. Only… What answer did he expect? Could Blaine be honest and tell Kurt he’d tumbled head over heels in love with him? Would he dare?

Blaine hedged a bit, but Kurt pressed on, and his resistance crumbled. He could no more lie to Kurt than he could to himself. And maybe it was crazy to feel this way about someone he’d only known for a few days, but if by some miracle, Kurt felt the same way, maybe they could try dating for real?

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Kurt’s lips found his, and his heart leapt happily. Yes!

K&B

When Blaine woke up the next morning, Kurt was still deeply asleep, his head on Blaine’s bicep and his arm thrown over Blaine’s chest.

Blaine smiled up at the ceiling, happier than he could remember ever being, and enjoying this quiet private time holding Kurt in his arms.

This Christmas break had been nothing like he’d expected, but it had been everything he needed. Relaxing. A slice of home and family. Scrumptious food and fun pastimes. And most importantly: Kurt.

My boyfriend.

Oh, it felt good to think those words and know they were finally true. It felt so right. Like it had from the very beginning, when Kurt sat down next to him on the plane, and Blaine had smiled at him as though they’d known each other forever.

Well, maybe in another life they had.

Blaine heard floorboards creak, and a second later, Burt’s head peeped in.

“Good morning!” Blaine whispered. “And Happy New Year!”

“Kurt still asleep?”

“Dead to the world.”

“Glad you got home okay. Did Finn’s girl sleep over too?”

“Yes. We were all exhausted.”

“That late?”

“Just after midnight. That’s late enough for me.”

Burt hummed in assent. “Well, come down to breakfast if you can pry Mr. Koala loose. Carole’s making blueberry pancakes.”

That made Blaine’s mouth water. He looked down at Kurt sleeping peacefully, and then back at Burt, torn.

Burt chuckled. “Or not. You can always whip up a batch yourself later, if you want a bit of a lie-in. But no shenanigans, you hear me?”

Blaine nodded, and the door closed again.

Blaine closed his eyes and softly stroked Kurt’s hair.

“What time izzit?” came a sleepy inquiry.

Blaine smiled and told Kurt, “Way too early for you. Go back to sleep, sweetie.”

Kurt curled into him like a contented cat, rubbing his head against Blaine’s hand. “Feels good when you do that.”

So Blaine kept up his gentle caresses until Kurt’s face went slack, and he nodded off again himself a while later.

By the time they made their way downstairs, it was past ten o’clock, and Blaine’s stomach was rumbling in protest.

“Morning, sleepyheads,” said Carole. “Burt’s off to work already, and Finn finished all the pancakes, I’m afraid. I swear he’s got some sixth sense for food cooking. Always shows up seconds after the pan starts sizzling.”

Kurt yawned. “No worries, Carole, we’ll fend for ourselves. Are there still eggs?”

Twenty minutes later, Finn came into the kitchen, sniffing like a dog. “Is that cinnamon toast I smell?”

Blaine hid a smile. Carole had spoken the absolute truth. Finn had shown up not even a minute after the first toast had hit the pan.

Kurt swatted at Finn with the spatula. “Out! Yes, it’s cinnamon toast, and no, you can’t have any. You’ve already had breakfast, and you finished your own as well as ours, says Carole.”

“I was hungry!”

“Well, now WE are hungry and don’t want to share. Clear out!”

“Aw, come on!”

“Maybe that works on Cathy, but not on me. What did you do, swipe half of her pancake while she was talking to Carole?”

“No! She had a whole one herself. And then she let me finish her second one.”

Kurt fake-swooned. “Aw, true love! Where’s Cathy, anyway?”

Finn pouted. “She went home already. Said she still had tons of work to do. Lessons to prepare. For next week.”

“Well, at least one of you takes their studies seriously. Why don’t you take her good example and get some work done as well? Not much else to do, ‘cause Puck and the other New Directions will be hungover, and Blaine and I will be packing because we’re going back to New York.”

“Hang on, you’re leaving today?”

That was news to Blaine too. His plane ticket back to New York was for two days later, as he didn’t have class until Tuesday afternoon. Still, he could try and get his flight rebooked. He just wished he’d known a bit earlier.

As soon as Finn had left the kitchen, Blaine asked Kurt what flight he was taking, and then spent a good half hour on the phone to sort things out. When he hung up with a triumphant smile, having scored not only the flight but also the exact seat he wanted, Kurt shook his head, smirking.

“When you start pouring on the charm, I don’t think anyone could say no to you if they tried.”

Blaine cocked his head to the side and moved a bit closer. “Hmm… You can’t say no to me? Now that’s interesting…”

Kurt squeaked in apprehension – actually squeaked, and Blaine grinned.

Kurt’s chin went up. “I’ll learn to say no. So there. I’ll become immune, after a while.”

Blaine’s grin widened. “I wouldn’t be too sure, if I were you.”

“Oh, hush you!”

“Make me.”

And then he lost both his words and his grin when Kurt grabbed his head and kissed him.

They didn’t stop kissing until Finn came stomping into the kitchen looking for a snack, and asked, “Weren’t you going to pack?”

When Burt drove them to the airport that evening, he looked at Blaine in the rear-view mirror – they’d opted to both sit in the back again – and asked, “So are you sad you didn’t get to spend the holidays with your own folks, bud?”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand, looked at him with all his love showing, and answered, “Not a bit. I had a marvelous time. Again, thank you so much for your hospitality.”

“Happy to have you, kid. Feel free to tag along every year from now on. We’ve all accepted you as part of the family.”

Blaine felt ridiculously close to tears, even as the corners of his mouth curved up, and could not manage a response. It made him happy to be so accepted, yet he felt guilty, too, for deceiving Burt.

Kurt kissed his cheek and announced, “Good, ‘cause Blaine is here to stay. Though, Blaine, I do want to meet your family too, someday.”

As soon as Blaine could strings words together again, he promised, “You will. We can go see my parents this summer. And Skype with Cooper one of these days. Though… I apologize in advance for all the ridiculous things Cooper is going to say.”

“Brothers,” Kurt nodded knowingly.

Kurt hugged his father tightly at the airport. When he let go, Blaine held out his hand for Burt to shake, but instead, Burt wrapped him up in a bear hug, too.

“Take care, kiddo. And look after Kurt for me, will you? Make him eat enough and sleep enough and have some fun in between all his work.”

“I will. I promise.”

Burt let him go and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Wouldn’t mind having you as my son-in-law one day.”

“Daaaaad!” Kurt moaned.

“What, like you haven’t planned the wedding already in your head?”

Kurt looked as if he wanted to sink through the floor. “Dad, please! Do you want Blaine to run for the hills? We’ve only just become boyfriends!”

Well, isn’t that the truth… But I can totally picture myself married to you, so I’m not running anywhere but into your arms.

“I don’t think Blaine’s the kind to be easily scared off. He let us kidnap him when he didn’t know us from Adam, didn’t he?”

Both Kurt and Blaine gaped at Burt.

He chuckled at their gob-smacked expressions. “I heard you, kid. Inviting Blaine ‘as a friend’ because he’d been nice to you on the plane. I saw you making goo-goo eyes at each other. But Blaine didn’t dare say yes. So I made him come with us. And I don’t regret it. Do you?”

Kurt closed his mouth with a snap, and shook his head slowly, his eyes misty and his smile radiant.

Blaine shook his head as well. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #The Christmas Guest #chapter 10 #enjoy!

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thesolitarystripe · 3 years

Text

Writing Prompt # 8: A 96-year-old woman’s phone number is one digit away from that of the suicide hotline. She could have changed it long ago, but she does not mind.

Here's your TW: Talk of familial loss, mention of suicide.

I found this writing prompt on tumblr from writing-prompts-re and for whatever reason it spoke to me. I just thought, what an endearing prompt for a subject that could potentially be so dark. It is dark, it's sad, and what a rainbow a little old woman painted over it. At least, in my head. I've been slumping back into that habit of losing my motivation. I'm not sure why. I'm giving myself the grace to do what I can and not beat myself up over it. Finding this writing prompt sparked it up all over again for me. It made me really miss my grandma. While I don't think she ever had this problem, I know she would have been just as comforting as Myrtie. In a way, I think I wrote this for her. I love you Nonni! Thank you for always being a soft spot to land. Enjoy.

Another Friday evening, another Jeopardy re-run. Myrtle, or as all her friends used to call her—Myrtie sat within the comfort of her reddish, brown recliner that was much too big for her. Always a petite woman, she looked like a twelve-year-old with the way the cushions swallowed her thin limbs, but she also appeared immeasurably comfortable. Myrtie pulled up the purple knitted blanket over her knees, gently tugged up the arms of her robe over both wrists as her hands lifted, poised with knitting needles and she began to bring yet another blanket into existence. This was how Myrtie spent most of her evenings, swaddled in a plush terry cloth robe, a pair of thick socks pulled up to the calf, and her hair resting beneath a bonnet, wrapped in curlers. Beside her was a cup of decaffeinated tea and a plate of cookies. Myrtie’s hands, while weathered by 96 years of life, worked the needles flawlessly as if they were an extension of a machine designed exactly for the purpose of knitting large lounging blankets. Every so often, she would giggle over something Alex Trebek would say to the participants on the show but save from the singsong chuckle, the room was silent. Myrtie had lost her husband twenty years ago. After marrying at the age of eighteen, it had been a difficult transition into this life alone. A life without his stories, hugs and forgetfulness. Myrtie often smiled sadly, wishing now for a sock to be left out of place or for the trash to be forgotten on the side of the house on garbage day. All those little things that would always make her so furious with her spouse, they were the details she missed most. Myrtie survived much longer than most of her friends, save for one that had gone to live inside a facility. They never spoke much, Myrtie assumed that either her friend had limited access to her phone or was too busy hustling the other residents in Bingo to bother calling. Myrtie was grateful for her loving and supportive family, but they could do nothing during the lonely nights when they went home to their families. She could not blame them. So, when her phone rang every so often late at night, Myrtie would answer. When the calls first began, she thought it odd that telemarketers would call so late but she soon realized her mistake.

This night, when her landline phone rang, she picked up the corded antique beside her and spoke.

“Hello?” Her voice held that raspy quiver that all good grandmothers had.

“I think I’m done.” The voice was new to her.

“Done? Done with what sweetheart?” There was a pause, as if the other voice sensed something was off but the draw of Myrtie’s kind voice urged them on.

“With living. With the world. I’m done here.”

“Oh, surely there’s things to stick around for,” Myrtie said, fluffing out her half-knitted blanket as she tucked the phone against her shoulder and ear to better use both hands.

“I don’t have anyone.”

“You have yourself. Isn’t he worth living for?” Another beat of silence. “You sound like you’re being too hard on yourself, your importance in the world does not hang on teeter-tottering validation of other people, honey. To be loved by others is a wonderful thing but loving yourself is just as important. Why don’t you stick around for yourself?”

“I’m lonely! Why would I want to be alone?”

“That is a good question, baby. Loneliness is so hard.” Myrtie’s hands paused, her heart gave one of those familiar throbs as it related to the young soul on the other end of the phone. Loneliness was something she was well acquainted with. “Before you go, have you got time for a story?”

“Well…yeah, I guess…”

Myrtie straightened up in her recliner, stretched out her back, and sighed. “I was married at eighteen years old to the love of my life. Albert. Goodness was he handsome! Now, we spent the first few years of our marriage apart—he went off to serve our beloved country. I was so desperately lonely without him. It didn’t matter that I had friends who called me up every day, parents to have supper with at night, I even watched the neighbor’s kids next door for a little spending money, and as busy as they kept me, I could never shake that feeling. When he came back, oh, it was the best day of my life! We spent the next fifty-six years together, every day! We had five beautiful children, a handful of pets that came and went, we lived in two different states and bought over four different cars.” Myrtie sat there smiling, her knuckles buried in the thick knots of her craft. “I miss him every day, it’s been twenty years and I still roll over in bed and miss the sight of him lying there, snoring.” Myrtie laughed. “Oh Lord how he snored! It was like someone was chopping down logs all night. I hated him for it,” her laugh tapered off in that pensive way, as her heart remembered fondly the memory then internalized the pain of it. “I would give anything to hear it now.”

There was silence. Sixty seconds of silence.

“Someone’s going to miss you like that, honey.”

A soft sob rustled against the receiver of the phone.

“I don’t know who you all have in your life, but I know you have a mama and a daddy. Even if things aren’t good between you now, they’ll miss you like that. Even if you haven’t spoken in years, they’ll miss the way you laughed, the way you hugged, the way you smelled even when you were nothing but a stinky young thing! Sometimes loneliness clouds our vision of all the people we do have. It is so easy to want for something, to be lonely because what we have doesn’t live up to what we think we should have. A girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse, best friend of forever, doting parents—we all have some sort of expectation. We are human and that is perfectly all right. I’ll tell you what though, there are no shoulds. Don’t let those insidious little shoulds run your life. I should this, I should that—toss that notion away, baby. There is just what is, what you want and what you don’t want. You got someone that loves you? Even one person that you’re not quite thinking of?”

“Yes…” a soft sniffle followed the confession.

“Good, all you really need is you baby but, I’m glad you have someone looking out for you. They’ll be missing you something fierce if you decide to be done. Even if they’re all you got, remember it’s about quality. Albert was my only friend for as long as I can remember. Sure, I met some ladies over the years and we gabbed and baked and knitted together but—the quality of those relationships were different. Don’t cheapen the idea of the one you have just because you think you need a lot! It’s better to have one person at your funeral to speak on what a wonderful person you were than be lying dead in a room full of people with nothing to say. What do you think about calling them right now and telling them what’s on your heart? You think that might help? If not, I’m happy to keep chatting with you, sweetheart. I ain’t got nothing to do but finish up this blanket I’m knitting. My kids already have ten of them in each of their houses so maybe I’ll just give this one to you. You like purple?”

There was a soft laugh that responded. “It’s a good color,” he said with a deep breath, one that sounded like it cleansed years of his life.

“Yeah, it is, baby. I’ll finish it for you and when you come to get it, I’ll make sure to have some cookies on for you. We’ll sit and chat and make sure you’re doing all right, hm?”

“That sounds nice,” he was chuckling again, the remnants of his tears still dripping off his face. “I think—I think I’m going to call my friend Greg.”

“All right, well tell Greg I said hello. He’s welcome to come with you now, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” Another silence followed. It was only broken by another slow breath. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thanks for calling honey. You have my number now so don’t be leaving grandma Myrtie without saying goodbye! Promise me.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good. Go call Greg now, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I will, bye Myrtie.”

The phone clicked and Myrtie hung up her landline with a soft clack of its plastic body. Myrtie knew there would be no visitation from her new friend. It was what she offered to all of them, a place to escape their loneliness. A reminder that while life’s peaks and valleys were relentless, there was always something to look forward to. Even if it was just a warm plate of cookies and a handmade blanket. Myrtie knew her phone number was one digit away from the suicide hotline. She pieced that together after receiving a dozen calls from hurting hearts. At first, she thought to hang up but, something about the way the broken words of other human beings dipped into her soul—she knew she could not let them go. Myrtie had no idea if anything she ever said actually helped someone, if they stayed. What she did know is that it helped her. In her own loneliness, it was like a salve on her own heart to know that others shared the same feelings but soldiered on despite the pain. Myrtie had lived within the dark recesses of her own mind and found light only in those around her once she willed herself to be open to seeing the love she did have, even if it wasn’t Albert’s. Myrtie reached over and grabbed her teacup, put it to her lips, rocked in her recliner, and looked at the phone. She hoped it would always ring when it needed to.

#creativewriting #writingprompts #writing #me writing #thesolitarystripe #author #tw #tw sui mention #tw loss

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bunny-hoodlum · 3 years

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I'm not dead!

But I did totally blank out (afain) on this side of the interwebs and I am very, very sorry about that. 🥺 Tbh, I was going to ease back into the Tumblrsphere, cuz I had turned on notificiations for like all of a minute a couple months ago... And then I couldn't watch WandaVision in private listening mode without the audio cutting out from the notifications. XD I feel like I'm somehow showing my age because surely that shouldn't be such a hindrance... Well anyways, I turned off notifications right away and forgot about everything since then. Q n Q

My current brain space in order has been: Kipo: Age of the Wonderbeasts, Dr. Stone, Jujutsu Kaisen, Heaven's Design Team, I've dyed my hair 3 times again, I'm wondering when I can get my ears pierced budget-wise (I'm literally hitting my 13yo milestone at 30, I'm such a late-life bloomer)... I've been eating almost nothing but salad for the past week or two, Idk, the days blur together and time means nothing to me anymore... Going back to shows!!! My recent headspace is: My Hero Academia -- YES I'M FINALLY BINGING IT -- Tokyo Revengers, ODD TAXI (I loooove this unique anime, it's like a gritty Parappa Rappa), Shadows House ... I still have to watch To Your Eternity but I'm going to be all over that!! And I recently decided to watch Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle. I absolutely love it. What I wasn't loving was the Funimation captions being too early since jokes are ALL ABOUT THE TIMING! So I'm still on ep 4.

Will I ever really talk about any of these? Or draw fan art ever again? I have no idea. The urge never crosses. The images never visit my mind anymore.

I'm just dropping this here because it's been awhile and I am alive but I've just got the worst attention span and I will check my messages again just like I always do before I disappear again -- I'm not actively working on anything that I would share on tumblr so that is why I forget to come on here -- what was I getting to? Right, anyways...

I haven't forgotten about the stories I need to update and repost (like "Powerless") but my procrastination keeps kicking in because the amount of time it feels like I'll have to put in towards that stuff is overwhelming, and when it all turns into a multi-project sludge in my brain, I just go hide in video games and shiznots. 😔 Ugh.

Even the thought of updating on FFN is intimidating me. I'm pretty sure all my old files are gone by now because I haven't refreshed them. So to re-upload "Powerless" is literally going to be like from scratch. Not writing it, I mean the editing. The italicization and the bolding and the scene separation!!!

I wish I hadn't deleted it the first time after all. Q_Q It could've just sat there accruing hype or yearning or whatever. Ugh.

Okay, so why is my attention span so bad honestly? Well, I have the chance to not work slave wage and instead actually focus on my 'art'. Ofc my fine motor skills are rusty and my digital drawing program skills are severely lacking. When everyone else has kept at it, I fell behind. That's what it is and what it feels like. I'm just at a hobbyist level, like, it's really, really bad. And I'm struggling not to look back on my life and question why I didn't do more to make sure I went to art school. Like actually work buttloads to go to VCUArts. Idk, my mom 10 yrs ago was like 'you need a car', as if I can't exist anywhere outside her reach without one. But I would've tried to live in the dorms and just bike. UGH. WHY DIDN'T I JUST DO THINGS AND SAID FUCK ALL TO OTHER PPLS WORRYING??!

Sorry. Ahem.

On the other hand... There's Skillshare and Schoolism and things, and even some Youtuber art pros have discord critique days or whatever, and all that is supposed to be a better investment than 200k debt, but I still keep feeling like I avoided really important experiences and that I'm still disadvantaged. I'm prolly am being pessimistic but it feels so objectively true. Ugh. I just don't see the self-taught vs formal education gap ever closing in a satisfactory way.

I forget what my point is. I wish I could update my fics, I really wish I could schedule some time in, but I haven't been able to properly think about any of it for the past three weeks I think. Another thing that's currently occupying my headspace is an artist that goes by HeartMush. I don't want to @ them because I don't want them to see my whining, but I'm sooooo enamored with their skills and envious of their formal education. And other things. Which you could find on their website contained within their downloadable CV. T_T This person feels like a prodigy to me. Lesigh.

Anyways, if I ever come back again, hopefully it'll be some art that I'm proud of. Maybe whenever I get there, I'll have clearer feeling how much farther my goal really is, and that should be enough for me.

#did any of this make sense?#personal #i'm not dead

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kidcataldo · 3 years

Link

Summary: Severus has a secret created by a lie. Now that lie is dead and the secret is on its way to Hogwarts.

I haven’t read the books since high school, but I just went on a harry potter movie binge and wrote this in my drafts for the fun of it. You can also find it here, or you can click “keep reading” and read it on tumblr.

Dead. He received the letter by owl over breakfast: "I regret"—I regret—"to inform you her state of mind has only gotten worse these past few months and it is expected she will die before nightfall." Malfoy thought he might like to know—how he found out, Severus hadn't a clue—but he had little interest in the matter; he preferred to forget her existence altogether. Beryl Bulstrode, ghastly woman: she joined the Death Eaters right after him—for him, in fact, he was told later. Her intentions were as clear as day to any seeing man, so Severus must have been blind his entire life and not realized it. She was a mad woman in her prime; he could only imagine what the Dementors created while she rotted in Azkaban all those years. Nothing pretty, and she entered looking horrid. Would he tell Dumbledore? Yes, of course he would—but nothing more.

Malfoy must have also told his son, for the entire school looked at him differently that day. He caught a group of third year Ravenclaw girls talking quietly amongst themselves on their way to the dining hall—they fell silent when he caught sight of their gossiping, and then they hurried away when he approached them. Minerva could barely look at him while Pomona kept sneaking glances at him. And his students were unusually quiet too. The misfits and troublemakers kept to themselves, hardly causing any ruckus at all. The Wesley twins in particular behaved uncharacteristically that day—obeying his every instruction, not attempting to blow up their potions for the joke of it, even referring to him as sir instead of professor, or not acknowledging him at all. It was quite nice, actually.

By dinner, everyone must have known. Sybill Trelawney was the only one brave enough to speak to him about it; he sat through a long ramble of hers throughout dinner, pretending not to hear her, as other professors and some students watched on in horror. Minerva tried to shut her up a few times, but the daft woman never caught on; "Oh, Severus, to lose a loved one so dear to one's heart," the loony woman said to him. "I can only imagine what that boy of yours is going through." The boy. It was always about the bloody boy. Albus's eyes briefly searched his own, and then Sybill was back to her babbling.

---

"You must tell the boy, Severus," said Albus. He was sitting in his chair. Phineas Nigellus's portrait hung above him, looking on as he reached for his bowl of sherbet lemons and offered one to Severus.

Severus shook his head and quickly turned away. "No," he said. "No—you've asked plenty from me already..."

"They may suspect something if you don't."

"And if they do?" said Severus. He turned back to the headmaster; his calm demeanor hadn't shifted, but the portrait above him was now empty. "Your plan was ridiculous from the start—it's a wonder how we've gotten this far without anyone realizing..."

Albus sighed. "If Lucius Malfoy, or anyone else, were to discover—" He stopped quickly at the sound of footsteps, and then they heard a quick knock on his door. "Come in," he said, turning his attention to the door.

Minerva entered the room with the confidence of a group of centaurs riding off to battle—or a strict transfiguration professor in need of a word with her superior—but she stopped and hesitated upon seeing Severus standing there. Again, as she had done throughout the day, she avoided looking at him. His past had odd ways of creeping up on the both of them.

"Yes, Minerva?" asked Albus calmly, bringing the attention back onto himself. Severus excused himself quietly just as Minerva announced the restoration of the girls' bathroom to its former glory, and then continued by questioning the whereabouts of that nasty troll. Severus was nearly out the door when Albus politely silenced Minerva and halted his departure. "Tell the boy, Severus," he said, and Severus slammed the door shut. That bloody boy.

---

How long had it been, he wondered, since they had seen each other last? Summer, perhaps. But he never kept track, nor did he care to do so. "Must you always mess with that thing?" The boy sat on his knees at the head of the table with Severus's enchanted red quill in his hands, attempting to tame the magical object; the more he tried to control it, the more it resisted his touch. With the wave of Severus's wand, it was out of the boy's grimy little hands and back in its holder. "It doesn't like you. Leave it alone."

He turned, his brown eyes showing no new change in emotion. "You're here."

"I am." Mrs. Cott let out a gentle snore in the rocking chair near the fire. He thought, or rather hoped, she had died and had been rotting there upon first entering the room—and to be perfectly honest, what a pity it was to learn that was not the case. Large wooden knitting needles moved mechanically in front of her, working tirelessly on a grey and green sweater.

He waved his wand again and the needles fell onto the old woman's lap. The old woman jolted awake with a loud snort. She remained still for a long moment, blinking her eyes and tasting her lips to adjust to her new wakeful state, until she caught sight of Severus and sprung out of her chair, letting the needles and unfinished sweater fall to her feet. "Severus, you're—well, I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"You're paid to watch him while I'm away, Mrs. Cott," he reminded her stiffly, "not lounge around like you're on holiday."

Her eyes searched the room, and then outside where it was dark. "Is it the holiday season already? So soon?"

"Leave us now," he commanded, again facing the boy. "I need a word with the boy alone." Her quiet footsteps hurried off through the kitchen door.

"What's happened?" the boy said. His hair was dark auburn, nearly brown—not like it was a few years ago. "Did Dumbledore die?" And those eyes, ordinary and brown, were far from exceptional. He had a mole below his left eye, just above his cheek. He looked and acted simply ordinary, like no one he had ever seen before.

"What makes you think that?"

He shrugged. "I dunno." His words were also never snarky, never trying to resist Severus's authority. But he was annoying with his questions, and he was hardly ever satisfied with the answers given to him. "You don't usually come back so soon, unless there's an emergency."

"Dumbledore did not die," he said. It seemed he always spoke in riddles with him—never quite finding the nerve to lie, just alter the truth.

"But someone did?" And he always seemed to catch on. "Who was it, then?"

Severus huffed. "The woman you call mother," he said, hoping he would understand.

"Oh," said the boy. He adjusted himself on the chair, sitting properly with his feet under the table. There was parchment in front of him and on it was scribbled a drawing—Severus couldn't make out what it was; it looked something like a figure. In the kitchen, Mrs. Cott could be heard moving pots and pans around, or something of that sort.

"Accio, pen," muttered Severus, summoning a normal, non-magical pen. "Here," he said, tossing it onto the table. "Finish your silly drawing. And don't even think about using my quill again." He turned to leave, apparate the hell out of there—back to Hogsmeade, back to Hogwarts.

"Was she also a Slytherin," he asked suddenly, and he turned back to him. "Beryl Bulstrode?" The woman he called mother.

"Yes."

"Do you think I'll be a Slytherin?"

"I doubt it," Severus said to him, and he apparated away.

A week later, he received a letter from the Ministry, asking about funeral arrangements—as if he owned the damn corpse. "The boy ought to see her be buried," Albus's voice rang in his ears. "It might give him closure." Severus hoped to burn the body; in front of the current Minister and all his minions, even. They all believed the boy was born in Azkaban—that was why he was so small and weak and fragile, they said; the Dementors drained both mother and son's soul for several months before it was discovered she was with child. Dumbledore and Bagnold knew the truth, of course—but they would take that truth to their graves.

Again, upon Albus's request, he visited the boy and prepared him for the woman he called mother's funeral. Severus, the boy, Mrs. Cott, and Dolores Umbridge, who worked close to the Minister were the only people in attendance at her funeral. She had other family—distant cousins, aunts and uncles—but none Severus was close to, and they never wrote asking to attend. When they arrived at the gravesite, the boy ran off to search the graveyard, leaving Severus alone with Mrs. Cott and Umbridge—the two most unpleasant women in the wizarding world. The boy returned before the closed—thankfully—casket made its descent with a handful of wild flowers, all uniquely styled, and placed them on top of the casket. Umbridge did not stay long; she offered her deepest condolences with a phony, sympathetic smile, briefly touched the boy's shoulder, which he shrugged away, and then left. Severus apparated soon after.

---

Winter came and it went. And by the end of the year, everyone seemed to put the Beryl Bulstrode business behind them, for other events surrounding the school distracted them. Students started behaving like themselves around him again, Minerva was no longer hesitant to speak with him, Sybill no longer tried talking to him during dinner; all seemed well, given the circumstance. And then it was summer, and the boy could not keep his mouth shut about Hogwarts, no matter how many times Severus told him to shut up. He wore the green and grey sweater vest Mrs. Cott knitted for him nearly every day; perhaps expecting to be sorted into Slytherin. Severus, of course, knew better. When his letter arrived one expected morning over breakfast, he made Mrs. Cott take him to get his supplies the next afternoon. Severus stayed behind to read a book. He arrived back with new robes, a wand, and a grey furry fat cat he named Gravy—a parting gift from Mrs. Cott, much to Severus's dismay. His books had yet to come in, however, so with great reluctance, before the start of the new school year, Severus took the boy back to Diagon Alley.

It was there he saw him, standing with the Weasleys, looking as filthy as a Weasley, and the Granger girl, along with her muggle parents. Gilderoy Lockhart was there as well, looking more doll than man—Severus felt his blood boil; why Albus chose him of all people, he would never understand. He could feel them all staring, but he refused to acknowledge any of them. "I thought he only came out of his coffin during the school year," he overheard one of the Weasley twins whisper to the other; Severus chose to ignore their snickering, but made a mental note to assign them both detention their first day back.

While he waited for the boy to retrieve his books, Severus found himself tangled in a brief conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Granger as Hermione Granger looked on with a mixture of embarrassment and concern on her face. Potter and Weasley observed the conversation as well, but their eyes were daggers; he decided to assign two more detentions at the start of the school year. Finally, Mr. Weasley guided the muggles elsewhere. Lucius Malfoy and his son arrived shortly after, looking on at the group with as much hate as Severus, but the boy had returned with his books before anything could develop beyond a courteous hello. But Severus noticed Draco give the boy a nod and a gentle smile as they passed him to leave the shop.

He wish he could say the start of the new school year was as smooth as the last, or the one before that, but the famous Harry Potter could not allow that to happen. He was proving to be more and more like his father each year, unfortunately. He was told he and Weasley didn't even board the train at platform nine-and-three-quarters—choosing to arrive by car instead—and at the start of the feast, before the first years were even sorted, he received word from Filch about Potter and Weasley's fashionable entrance, diving into the whomping willow head first in a blue Ford Anglia, a car belonging to Weasley's own father. The Evening Profit arrived soon after, and it was worse than Severus could have imagined. They both should have been expelled for their foolish behavior, and any normal boy would, but the Boy Who Lived always did have special privileges at Hogwarts, and everywhere else too—if Lockhart's story over staff breakfast had any merit. And if Albus was indeed correct about... his return, perhaps it was better Potter remained at Hogwarts, under his watchful eye.

A migraine blossomed while shouting at the pair and, by the time Minerva and Albus arrived, he was fuming. He stormed out with Albus following close behind, leaving Minerva to tend to their needs—they had missed the feast; if it were him, he might just let them starve, but Minerva conjured up some sandwiches the house elves made earlier that evening.

---

"The boy's sorting has surprised us all," said Albus, sounding slightly amused. They were walking the halls now; Severus had calmed some, but his blood still boiled. On their journey, they encountered a group of Slytherin first years being guided to their house's common room—coming at no surprise, the boy was not among them.

"Why? We knew he would be sorted into Gryffindor," said Severus casually as he nodded to the first year students. Albus gave them a gentle wave.

"He wasn't sorted into Gryffindor, Severus," said Albus—and Severus stopped, letting the first years pass.

He waited until they turned the corner before he asked, "Where exactly did the sorting hat put him?"

Severus had just always assumed he would be sorted into Gryffindor—with Potter and... the rest of them. He never really saw the boy as anything else; he never really cared to think of him as anything but a Gryffindor. "Florus Snape, son"—Severus flinched at the word while Albus remained unfazed—"of Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, was sorted into Hufflepuff this evening," said Albus. And he chuckled softly to himself. "I wish you were there to witness Pomona's reaction. She nearly flew out of her chair."

Somehow the man's words made him feel better, slightly less angry. Severus said his farewells to Dumbledore, and then quickly turned his heel and headed in the same direction as the Slytherin first years. He wasn't relieved, no. He never lingered on what house the boy might get into; he didn't know him well enough to do so, but he assumed it would be Gryffindor. Why should he care what house the boy was sorted in? Gryffindor, Hufflepuff... he was still—he still wasn't... It made no difference at all.

"You can't stay out here," said Draco Malfoy's voice clearly as he drew close to the Slytherin common room. "You have to go back to your own common room."

Severus turned another corner just as he heard Vincent Crabbe say, "Maybe the sorting hat was wrong."

"Not likely," said Pansy Parkinson.

"Look. It's not like Hufflepuff is a bad house—well, it's not good, but at least you're not in Gryffindor," continued Malfoy, "with Potter... and the Weasleys."

Malfoy and his gang stood outside the portrait of the serpent. "What's going on here? Why are you in the halls passed hour?" he said, and then he saw him, dressed in his Hufflepuff robes, eyes red and puffy from crying—he rarely witnessed the boy cry; he sniffed as Severus approached him. "Ten points from Hufflepuff—get back to your common room. Now."

"He's upset he's not in Slytherin," explained Draco. Severus glared at him, which made his eyes go wide in shock and he quickly added, "Sir."

"I'm sorry, sir," the boy cried out as he rubbed his watery eyes.

Severus felt a slight pain in his gut as he grabbed the boy by his wrist and pulled him away from the group. "That doesn't excuse your behavior." The pain in his gut only grew stronger as he stared into those unfamiliar glossy brown eyes, and he found himself loosening his grip on him. "Would you quit your incessant whining. Your mother wouldn't care which house you were sorted in. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, you could be in Ravenclaw and it still wouldn't matter to her."

The boy stopped crying. Looking up at Severus, he sniffed. "Really?"

And Severus realized his mistake immediately; he let go of the boy's wrist. "Yes, really," he said, reverting back to his sternness. "Now go. Before I take another ten points from Hufflepuff."

#Harry Potter #severus snape #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hufflepuff #slytherin #Gryffindor #ravenclaw #Albus Dumbledore #minerva mcgonagall #pomona sprout #sybill trelawney #gilderoy lockhart #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #fred weasley #george weasley #arthur weasley #molly weasley

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relishredshoes · 3 years

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Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello DeepShadows2 and welcome to Behind the Quill, I am pleased to have this chance to chat with you.

Many of our group’s members will know you as part of our Mod team but they might also know you as the author of Peculiar and of Good Night, Sweet Prince (written for our last Prompt Week of 2020!)

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name?

I grew up in the martial arts and my 'warrior name' was 'kage urufu' or Shadow Wolf. When I was in Creative Writing in high school, someone else was writing under that pen name, and they were more popular, and I was told I 'wasn't allowed to copy her name' by our teacher. So I went back and forth between some names and finally came up with DeepShadows. It is because during karate Kamp's ninja night games I would find the darkest spots in the camp and wait to sneak attack my enemies to steal their flags. The 2 comes from the fact that my first ever FF.net account got deleted because I put up lemons there instead of AFF.net.

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Honestly, it is a mix between Severus, Draco, and Minerva. Each in their own way was in positions they would have rather not been in at one point in time, but made the best of those situations. Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) Strangely enough, I am really into my 70s Feminist Sci-Fi. Like Darkover and Tanith Lee's 'Don't Bite the Sun' Series. As for Fic, I am into many scenarios and it changes according to my mood. Recently I've been into fluff slice of life.

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

Oof. Asking me to pick solely one is a crime. I have always loved Gone with the Wind. If I had to point at one, it would have to be it. But I honestly went over 15 titles in my head trying to decide which one would be the winner.

At what age did you start writing?

I have been telling stories and writing them since I was young. I could read and write at age 4 because my grandmother wanted me to be ready for school. My first written story was at 5 ish and I still have my Crayola blue five-line story about a Unicorn named Pepper.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I got into fanfiction when I discovered that ff.net existed. My first fanfic is still up there under this pen name, but it is miles and leagues from my current quality. Spelling is still atrocious though.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

Honestly, hard to say. I love post-war fics. I love when the narrative is close to canon, but uniquely not, so it handles like it is an extension of the world and not a separate world.

Theme wise, I am a sucker for hard-hitting drama.

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

I was into Kingsman, but not as a fic writer, but a Tumblr role-player. It's been a while, so mostly now I'm just back to being a Potterhead. It's where I began and where I always come back to.

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

Snape lives! You cannot tell me that a POTIONS MASTER who spends ALL DAY every day keeping students from POISONING themselves and who personally makes BLOOD REPLENISHERS for the infirmary would not have been prepared for an attack from Nagini. It is not secret knowledge that Drama King Voldy likes to have her do his dirty work and Severus would have been prepared for the off chance he was discovered and attacked. He lived.

My favourite piece of Fanon.... hmm... I like a lot of Fanon. It's hard to put my finger on just one piece that I enjoy.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?

Music! Nearly all of Peculiar was written to Folklore by Taylor Swift.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

Cake and a Cup of Tea by Cybelle Somewhere I belong by .... I can't remember Not Only a Granger by my friend Ferporcel

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I am a Pantser. I have beats and thematic key points I know I want to hit, but the characters sort of fill out the story as I go. Sometimes I surprise myself with where I end up and I love that. Example: Draco/Krum was a total accident in Peculiar, but I love everything about it.

What is your writing genre of choice?

Hurt/Comfort and Drama/Angst

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

Peculiar and Good Night, Sweet Prince.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Oh, my goodness, the unexpected cropped up. Peculiar was only supposed to be a 25 chapter post-war, post-divorce AU that turned into this beautiful beast. Characters were created as I went, and some side characters became major plot devices or turning points. I learned that sometimes my brain knows what it is doing before I know what it is doing. There were hints and notes of what was going on that I wasn't even aware.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

There are points that are special to me. It made it easier and harder to write. Having experience with some subjects Hermione goes through makes it easier to translate the emotions into words, but simultaneously, some of those factors are trauma-based and I had to navigate myself through.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I draw influence from everything I read. That is a key reason I don't read anything similar to my current work while writing because I don't want to accidentally lift from someone else.

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

Two of my roommates are readers and I get people barging into my room after a post a chapter yelling 'OH MY GOD'. I also have a typed and printed review handed in person to me by my roommate that is on my inspiration board where she says 'Fuck you, but with love'. My entire friend group knows I write fanfiction and I get some of them to read it from time to time. My mom won't read peculiar until it is finished because she doesn't want to nag me for chapters.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?

YES! I started Peculiar because I couldn't find what I was looking for. I wanted a high emotion, high stakes, drama and background rich fanfiction in which Hermione has completely broken and has given up on herself. Where she has nothing and no one and has lost that spark in her. I wanted Ron bashing where he is a villain and yet isn't the same time. I wanted Severus to be indifferent to her at first and slowly discover her suffering and set out to help her for the sake of the school, and it develops into more through feelings severed early on just after the war. I wanted her to have to overcome trauma and recover for herself, not for Severus, but instead with him and that they heal from their past together while facing continuous challenges that attempt to tear them apart. Along with other factors that haven't come to be yet, so I won't want to spoil.

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I love my audience. It actually brought me here. Shout out to Geek and Tattoo for bringing me to this group’s Discord server. I answer every comment, I respond to any statements or comments I notice on social media. I'm an open person with my audience, which is why when I had to go on hiatus, I told them exactly what was going on.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Write what feels best. If you don't like what you are writing, no one else is going to. If you don't want to write a certain scene but you need it, write an article or a letter about it.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

I cry. Then I put on the music that inspired the story/scene and I pace my room, going over the potential dialogue and basically acting out what I think should happen until it sounds right.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yes. Many of my OC characters are modelled after some of my real-life friends. And some other events have easily transitioned into events that Hermione and Severus have gone through.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I am currently writing the next chapter for Peculiar. I won't give a teaser, but I will say that Hermione and Severus give Rita Skeeter a delicious taste of revenge.

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Don't stop, but also be kind to yourself. Not every writing session is going to be your best, but you won't have better days if you give up. Also, if someone doesn't like what you write, forget them, as long as you are happy with it, that is what matters.

Thanks so much for giving us your time.

#fanfiction #fanfic #snamione #writing #ss/hg

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nish-with-no-niche · 4 years

Text

Open The Door....

Genre: Romance, Arranged marriage (sort of)au.

Pairing: Got7 Jaebeom x (sick'o mode!) OC

Characters:

Got7 Im Jaebeom Seungmae Meera (29 yrs) May-Ah(Meera's best friend, 30y/o, special appearance) Mrs. Seungmae (Meera's mom, 50y/o)

Summary:

" You're worried about that ? " (laughs heartily) "I've seen you in your worst condition, Meera....."

"She isn't too well."

"What happened?"

"Meera ate too much at last night's party."

Both Jaebeom and an apologetic Mrs. Seungmae were walking up the stairs to Meera's bedroom, meanwhile......

"Hn, this is the fourth time already...... Now! Where did I keep my towel? Must be on the sofa. Hmm, find it soon Meera or else hell will break loose."

With determination in her eyes, Meera decided to search downstairs and was going out of her room.

" Uff, I really need to hit the bathroo- aaaaah!"

Meera ran inside her bedroom and in a split second shut the door on Jaebeom's face.

"Jaebeom-ssi! What are you doing here?!?" Said Meera shocked at the unexpected visitor.

"Uh... May-Ah told me you were sick."

Aish that good-for-nothing, I'm gonna sue her. What do I do now? Hissed Meera feeling shameful of her present state.

"I'm really sorry Jaebeom-ssi, but now is not a good time. I seriously cant see you today."

"That's okay, this is why I came here. " Smiled Jaebeom. "Can you please let me in now?"

" No- please- I really look like a cave-man right now, trust me, you'll forget all thoughts about marrying me."

______________________

Jaebeom was chosen by Meera's parents for her Arranged marriage because she was very engrossed in her work as a software engineer and had previously turned down all prospective offers that came her way.

Naturally, Mrs Seungmae was worried that eventually her precious, hard working and eldest daughter who deserved the world would end up having no one by her side because of her reserved personality.

Meera didn't like the idea at first , and she still had a lot to get done, so Jaebeom proposed that they should date instead for a while to get to know each other and also so that Meera gets comfortable enough around him.

Meera was an all rounder according to him. She was stern but sweet , clumsy but admirable, simple but beautiful, tall, long hair, thoughtful- the list goes on. But more than anything, she was earnest. She was tailor-made for him and he wanted to be perfect for her.

"Ahahahahaha. You're worried about that?" laughed Jaebeom heartily.

"Meera , did you forget I've seen you in your worst state, when you were drunk?"

Mom :- "What? When did that-"

In a swift motion the door was opened and a cold hand pulled Jaebeom inside the room before Mrs. Seungmae could even digest the shocking revelation of her daughter being drunk.

Of all people. Her daughter.

Looking towards a clueless Jaebeom Meera pleaded in a hushed tone- "don't speak anymore."

"Mom? Didn't you have to go to Aunt Saeri's house? She's waiting."

"Oh, yes I know. But let me come back home then you see what happens to you. "Chastised her mom.

However, Jaebeom who was looking at the state of Meera's room thought- okay, she really is a mess right now.

______________________

"Well.... sit on the ,uh.... desk-chair for a while and- uh- let me clear up the- "

Meera ran to the bathroom to deposit the contents of her system.

She felt like vanishing from existence that very moment. In the room was her soon-to-be fiancè, all clad in gentlemanly aura, and here she was, a pathetic excuse of a woman, who has no elegance, no sophistication and her dignity going down the drain with every passing second.

Jaebeom came from behind and he gathered all the hair strands and held them behind her head all the while stroking her back gently.

At the sudden touch, Meera motioned with her left hand for him to go away but he didn't budge.

"We are in a relationship, it's natural for a man to do this for the girl."

After hearing those words,Meera couldn't say anything to him and let him help.

I'm not a kid , even my own mom didn't show me any sympathy when I was hurtling in the morning.

______________________

"I'm so sorry you had to witness that."

"It's okay,I didn't know your situation was this bad until i came here so I didn't bring any sick people's food." Said Jaebeom while cleaning her room.

Meera was resting on the bed , laying against the headrest, as Jaebeom instructed her to.

" 'Sick people's food', hehe" repeated Meera.

"You should go back now jaebeom-ssi,you must be having so much work."

" No worries, I don't have any work today. Plus, my sister is having a party at home. Aaaand it was very loud so I came to spend the day here."

"Oh no, you didn't have to take a day off because of- "

"Today is a Sunday, Meera."

"Right! right, ohoho, yeah..." flustered, Meera closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep.

Just then Meera's mom, chimed, "Meera? I'll be leaving now. Jaebeom-ssi, do you want me to give you some breakfast?"

"Oh, that's not required Ma'am, I already ate, although, I would love to have lunch- if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

" Why not? I'm sure Meera would love to have you too. Thankyou so much for taking care of her , I'll be back soon!"

_______________________

It was 2 pm now, Jaebeom was on his phone seated across from Meera on the bed, while said person was working on her laptop, now that her condition was a bit stable.

"Jaebeom-ssi?"

"Yes? "

"Do you always wear suits? Like, it's your day off, no? So shouldn't you be in shorts or t-shirts? " asked Meera looking at him curiously.

"I do, but I was going to my soon-to-be fiancee's house, I thought I had to look handsome and manly in front of your parents." Jaebeom smirked, playfully.

Amused by his answer Meera went back to her work , grinning.

"They'll confirm the engagement date by next month." Meera stated, eyes not leaving her computer screen.

"Yeah, I got to hear about it from my sister." After a hesitant moment later he spoke, "Meera?".

"Hmm?"

She seemed a bit engrossed in her work, a trait Jaebeom respected her for. Even though she wasn't in a good enough condition to work, that didn't deter her from completing the task she was committed to.

And he admired her for that .

"I have an office gathering, coming Thursday...... would you like to accompany me ? My colleagues wanted to meet you before the, you know..... engagement."

Meera looks up to find Jaebeom looking straight at her.

(Suddenly conscious) " Oh sure! I would love to meet them! Hopefully I'll become healthy by then.

With a small smile Jaebeom replied, "We're good then."

"Meera! I'm home." Announced Mrs. Seungmae.

"I feel okay enough to get up now. Shall we head downstairs for lunch?" Facing Jaebeom , Meera asked.

"After you." Replied Jaebeom cheekily.

Smiling, Meera announced, "we're coming mom, let's have lunch."

Drawing Credits : @19bottlesofdishsoap Kindly check out her tumblr and support her as she is starting out new in this field.

A/N: lastly if you are reading this then it means you must have read my fanfiction till the end , thankyou very much for that and you literally are the most precious person to me. Hope you enjoyed it ! :)

@g7net

#im jaebeom #jaebeom au #im jaebeom fanfic #kpop #oneshot #got7 #kpop scenarios #got7 reaction #kpop reaction #kpop oc #kpop au #g7net

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lbat1901 · 4 years

Text

Rantception S1•E1 - princeofmints exposed | ft. TatSquirp

(I am about a month late on posting this here)

Welcome to the first episode of my brand new series titled Rantception where I talk about a topic or some unfortunate soul who became a total jerk as of recently. I am starting this series off by talking about the user by the name of princeofmints.

princeofmints is apart of the Eddsworld community and they are apart of the official EW Amino, Tumblr, and Instagram. Unfortunately princeofmints is in some hot water right now.

Oh and before I get to that, I just want to make this clear, the princeofmints that I am referring to isn't the one who made tomtord p*rn. This princeofmints is actually accused of tracing and being a total d*ck.

Also they got banned from Amino, but they are still going strong on both Tumblr and Instagram.

One more thing: don't harass them. Instead I want you to stop supporting them. Don't not praise them.

With that out the way, let's get into the news.

I unfortunately didn't know any of this drama that happened till seeing callout posts about it. But I used to like princeofmints's posts until what happened recently.

I decided to to take a look at their wall after seeing a few callout posts on them before they got taken down.

Annnnnd yeah.....they are such an arsehole. Just...just look at these screenshots....

(the third one is my favorite in terms of arsehole energy that's being radiated from it)

I'll be honest with you, the third is the one that show the bitterness of princeofmints. Trying to guilt trip you. I'm sorry to say this, but it's not working. Nice try.

Now I'll handing the rest of this over to the one and only Squirp/TatSquirp who've agreed to be on the show and I certainly didn't kidnap them.

Squirp: ...Why am I here? Why am I tied u-

Lbat1901(me): Shhhh! Just give the audience your side on this

Squirp: Ok, fine...*clears throat*....so a week ago, I've made a callout post exposing princeofmints titled "Dethroning a Prince". It took me awhile to everything and not too soon after posting it on Animo, I've also posted it on Instagram.

Oh boy...it got taken down. No actually I got told by a model on Animo to take it down which I did while on Instagram it got flagged for harassment. I eventually reposted it.

princeofmints (or what I like to call her, Prince) is a 15 year old artist who mostly draws Tom, Tord, and the ship TomTord. She was on the EW Amino since January 13th of this year before getting banned. S

Alright with that out of the way, I'll try to make this brief

She also has been known to cause quite the trouble.

I have been caught up to speed on what Prince has done even learning th as t she had actually scammed someone.

I believe that Lbat told you this already, but Prince's name was stolen by someone who has the same name, but let's dwell on this.

Part 1 - Tracing:

Squirp: Ok so, a few days ago some of my friends and I looked at one of Prince's art and discovered that it was traced from an already existing drawing made by P-Nim. Of course Prince denied this and claimed that it was her own art.

Ok I'll make this clear, Prince didn't draw it for a DTIYS. If Prince didn't trace it then she shouldn't be claiming it as her own.

Also if you want to compare posts or have a look for yourself, you can't cause she deleted it. So much for being reasonable which goes into this next part....

Part 2 - Blocking those who've cornered you for being unreasonable:

Squirp: Oh yes, just like TBATF, Prince also blocks people for calling her out. Unlike TBATF who only block people for giving them criticism and calling them out on their behavior, Prince blocks people for many reasons.

One of them being totally unreasonable. She blocked one of my friends who called her out for tracing. Prince even deleted several comments when trying to defend herself for being called out before deciding to hit the block button.

She even blocked me after I tried to call her out on her wall. I did PM her a few days later about and guess what her response was. The reason why she blocked me was because she didn't like me.

My god....that has to be most stupidest as all hell reason to block someone and folks, we're on the second part on this and things are already getting heated.

Part 3 - Being a b*ch isn't all that cool:

Squirp: Hold on a minute, why is b*ch censored?

(Editor: that's because it's Lbat's show and I am meant to help with anything that Lbat puts out for everyone to see)

Squirp: Yeah, but why? Who cares anyway?

(Editor: well you're probably have a point, but it's my job. Now are you going to continue to argue or are you going to keep going with your side of the story?)

Squirp: I am...geez! I've never meant an editor that's who picky. This isn't YouTube with the whole COPPA thing you know.

Anyway..... pt 3....Prince has to be one of the biggest d*cks that I have ever talked to and- oh my god, why would you censor the word- forget it. Forget it...

Erm...yeah....she cursed at some many people that it's just mindboggling. She's not the most pleasant person to talk to on Amino or anywhere else.

Before you say that she probably has some mental health issues, don't even bother. Well I know she does has some issues, but it doesn't give her the excuse to not be a total d*ck. People who do have issues are at least well spoken and are respectful to others.

But Prince on the other hand, not a freaking single chance.

Part 4 - Stop acting sad:

Squirp: You're probably thinking to yourself, "Wow, Prince is a jerk" and you'd be right. But to make matters worse, she likes to guilt trip people.

How? Well she tries to make you feel sorry for her by giving you a sad sad tale before deciding to cuss you out.

That's right, it's pretty low for her. I don't need to explain why this is bad just because it is. It's really scummy especially when she's in the wrong here. Next!

Part 5 - Don't let Prince do commissions. EVER:

Oh yeah, she actually did this. I did found the person who got scammed and they are a person known as BadBoy.

You see BadBoy commissioned Prince to do a drawing for 92 coins. Unfortunately for BadBoy, Prince said that the price was actually lower than that. But it gets much much worse than that.

Prince got wicked with them and refused to give other pieces of art to BadBoy. Eventually BadBoy had enough and asked for a refund. That's when things started to escalate really fast.

Prince told BadBoy to piss off. After a long battle, Prince gave BadBoy 72 coins back when BadBoy asked for a full refund.

Squirp: I have been saving this part for last and it gave me a reason to make a callout on Prince in the first place. She literally scammed someone over 72 coins.

In summary, Prince just stole BadBoy's money and was a total d*ck towards them.

And that should do it for now, but I one final message to Prince. If you're reading this now while getting harassed for being callout for your crap: none of this, and I stress this a lot, none of this wouldn't have happened if you were to just act a tad bit kinder and a whole bit wiser.

Oh and maybe if you would've just listened. Also running away from your problems, lying, and pretending that they didn't happen makes you look like the bad guy here.

You know, I wouldn't mind you being on Animo at all if you just shallow your pride and try to do better by apologizing to everyone.

I didn't mean to make my callout post to hurt you in a way. In fact, I still believe that you can change. But atlas, your problems need to be addressed to make that happen.

All you need to do is try. That's it. That's all I ask for.

Lbat1901(me): *claps* Nicely done, Squirp. Nicely done.

Squirp: Thanks Lbat. It's been a pleasure being on here. Now can I go home now?

Lbat1901(me): Uhh.....*walks away from Squirp and walks out of the room before shutting the door*

Squirp: Lbat? Uh Lbat? Lbat? This isn't funny! Untie me! Hey cameraman, you're still here. Untie me, please

Camraman: *shrugs before shaking their head*

Squirp: What do you mean no? Ugh!

{screen cuts to Lbat sitting in a chair}

Lbat1901(me): Well that's the end of the first episode of Rantception. I want to thank TatSquirp for coming on and helping me out. Please check them out on the EW Amino and possibly their Instagram as well while you're at it.

#lbat rambles #lbat rants #rantception #rantception season 1 #rantception episode 1 #princeofmints #princeofmints exposed #callout #callout post #tatsquirp #lbat1901's channel 7 lucky hour

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impactrueno · 4 years

Note

You know what's great about tumblrs anon feature? The fact it allows people to communicate openly and honestly with people they wouldn't dare to contact otherwise. It allows communication without expectation. We could have talked before and I may have followed you for years, or I might be brand new. You don't know and it doesn't matter. I'm anonymous and I want to say thank you, without placing you on a pedestal or gushing. Just honestly saying thank you for your work and for being a chill dude

Once you message someone or even send an ask off anon, you're putting your reputation on the line. Once you're known, if you make a social faux pas that's game over, friendship ended. But on anon there's a degree of safety because you can't truly know who the other person is, you just have to take their ask at face value. Which is a good thing unless you get anon hate I don't know, I forget what my original point is. But tldr; you're a real person, not a performing monkey. And people need to remember that when they send messages on the sly trying to get you to draw shit for free.

(im assuming these are all the same anon)

anon, i wish i knew who you were because these are some of the most honest and insightful asks ive ever gotten, i think. i love tumblrs anon feature for similar reasons; mainly i just like having it there as an option for people who want to talk to me but for one reason or another (shyness, social anxiety, privacy, etc) would rather not show themselves. i respect that sense of privacy, i feel like it allows people to express themselves more easily and be more honest since they got nothing to lose

but hey thank you for acknowledging my existance as a person! the truth is that lately ive been feeling kind of detached from my own existance and like im not really a person living his life and having experiences and shit, like instead im just some sort of internet npc who posts art sometimes and stuff. im sure to many strangers i come off as exactly that, especially on twitter since my account has turned very impersonal in the past couple of years (id rather keep it that way tbh especially after gaining so many followers jeez) and that makes sense but idk. i feel like that sometimes even among my friends and its obviously not their fault but it still sucks. quarantine really hitting me with the dire realization that im lonely as hell bro

WHEW anyway i didnt mean to go on that weird tangent but my point is yes i am a real person! currently struggling a lot with his life so unfortunately i may not work on art as fast as id like, or be as witty on the internet as id like. i dont resent people for not keeping this in mind before sending me asks (hell, even i forget im a person) but i didnt realize how nice it feels when they actually do. so thank you anon

#Anonymous #asks

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talpup · 4 years

Text

Lost Song:5

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

***So this fic has turned out the have a lot more ABO dynamics than I had planned. So please note that that has been added to the tags.

5.1

Shouta exited his rooms. The smell of something baking might not have woken him from a long overdue sleep in, but it had greeted him the instant his heated dream had vanished. Teris. He was dreaming about her more and more. The images and wanting growing ever more vivid. He could understand the sex dreams. She was certainly desirable in form and face. But the others… There was nothing about her that made him want to spend a lazy day in, or take a stroll through the woods and get caught in the rain. And yet over the course of the two months since she had joined his Ilca, he had had both those dreams and more.

Frowning, Shouta made his way down, following the warm baked smell to the dorms kitchens. The sight that greeted him was so domestic that it might as well have been pulled from one of his previous dreams. Teris, with her back to him, working at the kitchen counter. As if this were one of his dreams, Shouta moved quietly to her, arms twitching, eager to wrap around her.

There was an audible pop that made Shouta stop.

The newly appeared Twice waved the goods in his hand. “Got it! Told you I could get Terra strawberries and bananas. This was a lot of work. You better be grateful.”

“Thank you, Twice. I’m sure Hizashi will appreciate it.” Teris smirked, accustomed to the House Elf’s quirk some ways.

Shouta watched her. The space between them might not have been more than five feet; but it felt insurmountable.

Twice turned bashful. He waved her off. “Anything for you— What are you doing here! You’re not suppose to be in here!”

Teris turned thinking Hizashi had come to check on the dessert. Her smile fell as soon as she saw it wasn’t her friend but Shouta.

Shouta's eyes darkened when she turned back around without a word. Yep. He had absolutely no idea why he was having such dreams about her. Irritating, too proud woman. It wasn’t as if he actually wanted to do those kind of domestic with her. He was forced to spend too much time with her as it was. It had to have been the close quarters. Living in the same dorm as female Griffon in her prime. It was bound to tap into his primal instinct and mess with his head enough to effect his dreams.

His well rested and good mood ruined by Teris’ response to his presence, Shouta turned the hollering House Elf. “Out.”

Ordered by the dorms Ilca Leader, Twice had no choice but to obey.

Teris spun around just in time to see the House Elf disappear with a pop. “He was helping me!”

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it matter to you?” She demanded, anger rising at the Sphinx’s calm voice and non expression.

“I told you to rest.”

“I am!”

“You’re baking.”

“So you do know what I’m doing.” Teris snarked, tone full of mock congratulation.

Shouta slid his hands into his pockets, refusing to take the bait. Fun as it was to taunt her, he didn’t want to argue. He wanted to see that she took it easy and was well rested for her and Hizashi's first patrol tomorrow. “Baking isn’t resting.”

“Some of us actually have a decent sleep schedule. Sorry if I can’t lay in bed all day sleeping with you. Like you!” Teris quickly corrected, face heating at the slip. “Can’t sleep all day like you.”

Shouta recovered quickly from the shock of her words. His wide eyes relaxed, shimmering with a hungry intensity. “You can sleep with me whenever you like.”

Teris shivered at the husky drop of his already deep voice. “N—no. You’re…” Handsome. Desirable. Smart. Strong. “I don’t want to be with you. I can barely tolerate you.”

Shouta smirked at the warble in her voice. Hands pulling out of his pockets, he stalked a step closer. “Who said anything about being with? Fourth's are freer than that. We don’t need to be mated or companions to seek release. Having sex need not change a thing between us. We could just fuck.”

The idea appealed to him. Maybe getting a taste would help get her out of his head. The saying you always want what you can’t have came to mind. But if he had her… Thought of having her made his chest and cock heat.

Teris’ eyes widened. Was that a—a purr he just gave? No. That couldn’t have been what that was. Thankfully the sound had been so soft and low that she was able to dismiss it.

She reached back, gripping the counter-top to help aid her suddenly wobbly legs in holding herself up. “Yeah... Well… I’m not sure how I feel about hate sex and that’s what it would be so…”

Shouta’s lips pulled into a line at the way she looked everywhere but him. While he thrilled at her obvious nervousness, he wanted her eyes on him. Another purring growl sounded from his chest. If he were in his true form his tail would've swished from side to side.

He denied the joy he felt at the clear struggle of her hidden wanting, telling himself that the delight he felt was in toying with her. In taunting her. In seeing and making this woman who had been a thorn in his paw since day one a flustered mess. This is what she got for intruding upon his peace. For following him into his dreams. For making him continue lapse and think of her as his when he didn’t even want her.

He lifted an eyebrow, teeth showing in a crooked smile. “So that’s a maybe then.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Teris turned away from the teasing Sphinx. And that’s what he was doing. Teasing. Because he couldn’t be serious. There was no way he wanted her.

Dark eyes raking over her back, Shouta stalked closer.

Teris’ breath quickened, at the feeling him drawing near. How was it that she could hear her own heartbeat and his slow, quiet steps?

His chest pressed against her back.

Teris jumped. The spoon she stirred with flinging melted chocolate at the feel of his strong, warm chest.

“If you ever want to test that maybe. Discover if it’s a yes. Let me know. Whether it’s a rough hate fuck you’re after. Or something else. You’ll find I’m up for it all. Just say the word and I’ll give you an experience you’ll never forget, Kitten.”

Teris’ head snapped back to face him. Her breath caught, body heating at the predatory look in his dark eyes. Though her mouth opened, she couldn’t respond. Couldn’t even move.

Shouta’s gaze fixed on the small stripe of chocolate on her face that was temptingly close to her plump, parted lips. Unable to help himself he pressed against her, sandwiching her body between him and the counter-top. His hand came up, cupping her cheek, holding her gently in place.

Much like the chocolate she was tending, Teris melted at the touch of his calloused fingers.

Her soft sigh fanned across his nearing face. Shouta hummed at the sweet scent of her. It would be so easy to divert his course and taste her lips. The want to do so was so overwhelming he trembled the last two inches as he drew near.

Teris’ eyes closed, her head tilting. And then…

Shouta licked the chocolate off her face, his hot, wet tongue ghosting over the corner of her mouth.

Her eyes snapped open. She pulled back.

Fuck! Shouta's eyes dilated. He stood stock still a moment, body rigid, battling his self control. It was a mistake. Getting so close. Licking her clean. Having a hinting taste of her. The urge to bend her over and made her scream his name was too great.

He stepped back. Then stepped back again. “You’re so messy you make a mess of even yourself.”

Teris touched were he had licked, her skin still tingling.

Shouta turned away. The less senses he had focused on her the better. “Make sure you clean up after yourself.”

Confused, angry, and disappointed Teris watched Shouta leave without a backwards glance.

5.2

The next morning Hizashi sat at the table having a piece of the banana split cake Teris had made to celebrate their first patrol. When she had asked him what his favorite dessert was he hadn’t hesitated in answering. Thankfully he had seen his adoptive mothers make it often enough to tell her the basic recipe. Having the cake had felt like a slice of home which had made him happy and wistful. At least with both his mothers having died in a car accident a few years back, he wasn’t left worried and wondering about them now that he was here.

Swallowing a bite of the sweet poke cake, Hizashi looked up at Teris. “You know how Oboro finally told me a while back that he thinks I might be half siren?”

“Yeah.” She bend down opening another cupboard looking for the perfect container.

“Well now he says he’s not so sure.”

Still bent over she turned. “Why’s that?”

“Because Hizashi's clearly a hybrid of spirit and sprite, and Sirens are a sub-species of spirit, beast, and demon.” Shouta told, entering the kitchen. His eyes fell on Teris first taking in the enticing sight of her ass. His lips quirk ever so slightly upward at the fine display, then suddenly fell when he took in the rest of her.

She was wearing Kai’s colors. Well, the colors of his true form. Even though she might not be aware she doing so, it was a clear sign of her returned favor for the arrogant Dragon. An acceptance of Kai’s courting. Shouta buried a low growl. What did he care if she accepted Kai? It wasn’t as if he were trying to court her. He didn’t even want her.

But she was part of his Ilca. Any pain and suffering the Dragon caused her when he found out Teris was a griffon would be his mess to deal with. He would kill that Dragon if he ever hurt her. Teris was his. Damn! His Ilca. She was part of his Ilca.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shouta’s frown deepened, cursing the way his temper colored his tone.

Either unaware or uncaring how alluring the sight of her ass was, Teris turned back to shuffle through the low cabinet. “Looking for a container. Why? What the hell are you doing?”

Trying not to go over and rub my hardening cock against your sweet ass, Shouta thought. He managed to pull his eyes away from the sight only to have them return to the tempting mound.

Her hips swayed side to side.

Oh, for fuck sake! If he didn’t know any better Shouta would've sworn she was doing it on purpose. But he did know better. He had made her that stupid offer yesterday afternoon. And not only had she not accepted, but she had spent a good portion of the rest of the day avoiding him. If she wasn’t even interested in sex without strings, there was no way she was trying to delight him with that dancing display.

Snuffing out a low growl, Shouta marched over. He opened a top cabinet and pulled out a container. “There. How hard was that?”

Teris’ head peaked up from the bottom cupboard. “No.”

“No?”

“Not that one.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s--” She turned and looked up at him.

They both stopped.

She wasn’t on her knees but her head was level with his crotch. And with her looking up at him…

Her eyes lowered, needing to look away from his handsome face. Big mistake. She was met with the black fabric of his pants and… Was there a slight tenting?

She jumped up, straightening. Both she and Shouta took a step back.

Hizashi watched the two, smiling widely. Oboro had told him, Aizawa was a logical man. That the reason Sphinx’s enjoyed troublesome, twisting puzzles was because they prized finding the logical in them. But there was nothing logical about Shouta's denial of his feelings for Teris. More then that, the Sphinx was in such denial that he couldn’t even see Teris’ clear wanting of him in return.

Shouta stuffed his hands in his pockets hoping to hide the growing bulge.

Teris turned away, cursing last nights dream about him. This was all Aizawa’s fault. He was the one who had licked her face and talked about giving her an experience she would never forget. It didn’t matter that she had had such dreams about him before. It was still Shouta's fault.

“What’s wrong with the container You’ve never been picky about them before.” The Sphinx’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re becoming more difficult.”

Teris spun back around. “Me! Difficult? Look in the mirror and then tell me about how I’m being difficult. And no,” she picked up the contained he had offered and slammed it back down on the counter, “that one won’t do. It’s not--” She stopped trying to find the right word.

Shouta watched her a moment, waiting. Finally he prompted. “Not what?”

“It’s just not… right.” She opened another cabinet, continuing her search.

“She’s taking a piece of cake for Kai.” Hizashi told, hand on his own packed piece for Oboro.

Shouta looked from the Hybrid back to Teris. “Why?”

“Found it!” She declared pulling what she viewed as the perfect container for her offering.

Shouta saw the care she took in cutting and packing a piece of the overly sweet monstrosity. Not a fan of sweets, he had forced himself to eat a piece of cake because Teris had made it. The fact that she viewed going out on patrol and spending more time with him as something to celebrate left him with a warm, fuzzy feeling. But why was she taking a piece to Kai?

It was bad enough that Kai was courting her. Bad enough that she had subconsciously worn colors that matched the Dragons true form. Now she was taking Kai a piece of cake that she had made for him-- for them. For his Ilca to celebrate her and Hizashi's first patrol. He had no doubt that Kai would take her offer as a silent acceptance of his courtship. Just the thought of the Dragons wrongful thinking made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“You said you made it to celebrate your and Yamada’s first patrol.”

Hearing the slightest hint of accusation in the Sphinx’s baritone, Hizashi straightened in his seat.

Missing the edge that Hizashi picked up on, Teris tilted her head at the packaged cake, wondering if it needed a bow. “I did.”

“Then why give Chisaki a piece?”

The dreamy glaze in her eyes evaporated at the Sphinx’s question. “I don’t know Shouta. Maybe because he’s taught me everything I know about this world.”

Hizashi flinched at her snapping tone. Why did the two always have to fight? Everyone said how much freer Fourth's were with sex. Maybe if Shouta and Teris had sex they would realize just how much they liked each other.

Shouta scoffed. “He’s hardly taught you everything you know.”

“Yes he has.” Teris argued.

“Are you forgetting the lessons I’ve given you?”

She shivered at his pinning glare. “I--”

Shouta stepped to her. “Maybe if I made those lessons a bit more personal. Tested you a little longer and harder.” He looked her over, humming in satisfaction at her blush. “I’ll give you any private lessons you want. All you have to do is ask.”

When Teris didn’t respond, Shouta leaned over her. “What’s the matter? Don’t think you can take what I have to give?”

“I—I ca—can take whatever pathetic excuse you have. I just don’t want it. Or you. You’re the last person I’d want to have sex with.”

“Sex?” Shouta lifted his eyebrow. “Who said anything about sex?”

Teris blanched, blinking at his question.

Dark eyes glittering, Shouta’s voice dropped in octave and volume. “Such a naughty little thing. Taking my offer of help and twisting it like that.” He gave a toothy smile. “Although, if you are interested in sex I suppose I could find the time to put you through your paces.”

Her body vibrated with heated wanting and boiling fury. “I hate you.”

Her hair whipped around hitting Shouta in the face.

Shouta's eyes closed, breathing in her scent.

Teris stormed off only to return.

Shouta’s eyes opened at the return of her stomping feet. He frowned seeing her take up the packaged cake she had forgotten and followed her out into the great room.

“Wait.”

As much as Teris would've liked to ignore the Sphinx and keep on going, she forced her feet to stop. Shouta might be a bothersome ass, but he was also her Ilca Leader. She had no doubt that he would leave her behind today if she didn’t obey what he probably saw as a simple command.

Shouta felt a sharp sting at her irritation, his flirting having upset more than engaged. That’s because you weren’t flirting, an inner voice said. True as he believed that to be, Shouta was annoyed with himself for provoking her yet again. Though it wasn’t entirely his fault.

Teasing was part of his nature. And when it came her, it happened so easily. If anything, it was Teris’ fault. She was the one entering his dreams. Haunting his every waking moment. Even when she wasn’t in the same room at their dorm, her smell was there, infecting his mind. She just so desirable, beautiful, smart. No! Not desirable. Not—okay, she was beautiful and smart. But she certainly wasn’t desirable. Which is why he wasn’t teasing her to court. He taunted because she tested him and purposefully pushed his buttons. She had invaded his well structured life and made a mess of it. She deserved to be toyed with for the trouble she had caused. It had nothing to do with his enjoyment of making her flustered blushing mess.

Pushing down his disappointment when she didn’t turn around, Shouta stalked to her. “I want you back by noon.”

“I know.” They had gone over this last night while Hizashi had scarfed down three pieces of the too sweet cake.

“No later.”

“I know!” Teris exclaimed, put on edge by his nearness as much as his words. What did he think? That she was an idiot? Why did he always have to stand so close? He never stood that close to Hizashi. Fourth's had a greater sense of things. Was Shouta able to pick up on her attraction to him? No. No! He couldn’t pick up something that wasn’t there. She hated the bossy, arrogant Sphinx. She wasn’t attracted to him.

“And make sure Kai sticks with academic lessons this morning. I don’t want you coming back tired from physical training, or worse injured.”

Her grip on the container tightened. “Kai would never hurt me.”

Shouta opened his mouth to argue, but held his tongue. Now wasn’t the time to tell her how wrong she was.

“Is that all? It’s a short day of lessons and I’d like to spend as much time with him as possible.”

Shouta gritted his teeth. She didn’t mean it. Didn’t know. No matter what Kai thought he felt for her in his attempts at courting, it would all end when he discovered the truth. Kai was a dragon. Teris a griffon. For that reason alone, Kai would never accept her.

The knowledge was both a solace and a pain. Kai would hurt her, even if it wasn’t physical. The thought of Teris hurting grieved him. Made him want to hurt the one responsible. His hands twitched, wanting to scent her, but he held himself back and nodded. “That’s it for now.”

He watched her leave without a backward glance, telling himself the ache he felt was built out of concern for her as a member of his Ilca, nothing more.

5.3

“Good morning.” Teris greeted, entering Kai’s office.

“Morn--” Kai’s voice caught at the sight of her.

“Kai?”

Kai cleared his throat. “Good morning. You look lovely today.”

Teris blushed. “You say that every morning.”

“Because it’s true. Though today,” His gold eyes roved over her, “you look especially beautiful.”

“It’s beautiful now is it?” Teris laughed, shyly. “It must be my excitement showing.”

Kai’s eyes lifted to hers. “Excitement?”

“My first patrol.”

“Right. I’m to go easy on you today. Let’s hope I can hold myself back.”

Her face felt so hot that she was surprised flames weren’t licking around her hair. There was just something about Kai that got her blood pumping in all the right ways. And unlike with Shouta, Kai was kind. He put her at ease and didn’t aggravate.

“I—uh—brought you something.”

Kai watched her make her way to his desk, taking in the colors of his true form on her. It was as if she were telling, begging him to claim, cover, and protect her. Did she even realize what she was doing? Of course not. He hadn’t told her about different courting rituals, and doubted Aizawa had. Still, instinct was instinct. Even if it was subconscious, Teris had picked the purple button up and yellow-gold tank top.

His eyes drifted down to the small knife strapped to her belt. He hummed in pleasure at the sight of her wearing the first gift he had given her.

“Are you planning on taking that out on patrol today?”

Teris’ eyes followed his to the sheathed weapon at her hip. “I was. That is, unless you think it’s a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a splendid idea. In fact, there’s something else I’d like you to have and wear.”

“Another gift! Kai! You’re too generous.”

“The best deserves the best, my dear.”

Teris shivered at the husky drop of his voice. She had to look away from him, the hunger shining in his amber hues turning her knees to gelatin.

“Will you at least let me to give you this first.” She set the container of cake down before him, knowing that her small offering would never measure up to whatever he gave.

“What’s this?”

“I made Hizashi's favorite dessert to celebrate our first patrol. Seeing as I wouldn’t be going out today if it weren’t for your help and instruction, I wanted to bring you a piece.” She grimaced slightly at the closed container.

She should have tied a ribbon around it. Possibly even attached a small note. But what would she have written that she couldn’t simply just tell him? I like you? There was that, but she doubted she would've had the nerve to even pen such a thing.

Kai stared at the container in jubilant awe. It didn’t matter that it was the other Foundlings favored dessert. Or that it was made to celebrate her and Yamada Hizashi's first patrol. It was still a returning gift. She had accepted his courtship!

He rose from his seat, picking up package and taking Teris’ hand.

“Kai. Wha--” Teris allowed him to pull her out of the office.

She giggled at his behavior, adding to the happy lightness in Kai’s chest.

Hari heard a woman’s laughter and stopped in a cross hallway, letting them pass. His head turned, watching his Leader with Teris. Was that a smile on the Dragons face?

Kai led her into the kitchen. Setting down the container, he reluctantly let go of her hand.

Teris watched him pull out a fork and warned. “I hope you like sweet stuff cause it’s super sugary. I honestly don’t know how Hizashi managed to eat three pieces and fall asleep hours later.”

Kai paused. He wasn’t a fan of sweets. But this was her first gift to him. He would suffer through.

As soon as he lifted the lid, the sugary smell assaulted his nose. It made his jaw ache in the same way something terribly sour would. Taking a fortifying breath, he took a bite.

Teris watched, her face going from hopeful to disappointed and finally amused. “You hate it.”

Kai chewed, struggle to swallow the one small bite. He licked his lips, the coat of chocolate and cream sticking to his tongue. “It’s really sweet.”

“I told you.”

As much as he wanted to partake of her gift; this was something that he couldn’t suffer through, even for her. “I don’t care for sugary sweets.”

“And you took a bite! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you made it.” Kai said, silently adding, because you gave it to me. Even if you don’t realize what you’re doing, you’ve accepted my courtship and have given me a courting gift in return.

“Kai. If you don’t like sweet stuff, you should've just told me.”

Kai set down the fork and wiped his mouth, moving to her. “I like sweet stuff just fine. I just prefer natural, more complex and tasteful sweets, like you.”

Teris blinked, but quickly recovered. “Are you calling me complex?”

His hand gripped her waist, pulling her closer. “Tell me that you’re not. But know, that like wrong answers, lies will see you punished in the best way I can imagine.”

“And just how imaginative are you?”

Kai smiled. “For you, Beautiful. I could be very imaginative.

His head tilted, lips brushing hers.

Teris sighed at the contact.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, hand coming up to cup her cheek and hold her in place should she try to pull away. But he need not have worried.

Teris’ arms hooked around Kai’s neck, tugging him closer.

Cake completely forgotten, Kai deepened the kiss, mouth opening to nip and suck at her tender lips. This was the kind of sweetness that he loved. She tasted perfect. Better than he could have imagined. Like honey mixed with citrus and strawberries.

His tongue entered her mouth set on exploring every bit of her, but the sound of male voices stopped him. With a growl Kai pulled away, lifting his head to glare the members of his Ilca that were just now entering the kitchen.

Short as the kiss had been, it had left Teris breathless. Dazed, she stepped to the side and turned to face three of Kai’s Ilca.

“Boss.” Tengai inclined his head.

Nemoto turned away, trying to exit the kitchen he had just entered. It was clear that they had disturbed something and the Dragon was displeased. But Tabe was there, pushing him back in.

“Cake!” Tabe exclaimed, having smelled the sweet from down the hall.

Claws sprung out from Kai’s fingers, his hand turning scaled. His lashing talons narrowly missed Tabe’s reaching hand.

Tabe jerked his hand back from the dessert. In a mix of fear and confusion, he looked from Kai’s embedded claws, to his Leader’s cold golden eyes. Kai didn’t like sweets. Why would he defend a piece of cake?

“Mine.” Kai told, eyes slitting.

Tabe nodded numbly. “So—sorry, Boss.”

“You said you didn’t like sweets. Could barely eat one bite.” Teris turned back to Kai, a playful smile on her beautiful face.

Kai’s hand and eyes were back to fully looking human, though he kept his hand on the counter-top, fingers covering the gouge marks his claws had made. He didn’t want to needless concern Teris about the temper he has just shown.

5.4

As much as Teris had enjoyed the kiss, she had done her best not to give Kai a chance to kiss her again. She had this whole new world to figure out and find her place in. She couldn’t get distracted by a romantic relationship. Not until she at least figured out what she was. Not to mention that if she returned distracted today, Aizawa would surely notice and order her to stay home.

Kai looked up at the clock. He hated not getting to spend a full day with Teris. Hated that she had done her best to keep her distance. What had started out as one of the best days he ever had, had turned somewhat sour at her avoidance.

He understood her reasoning, even if she hadn’t said as much. Going out on patrol while distracted could be dangerous. Deadly. It was why he hadn’t pushed. He wanted her sharp, focused, and safe. But understanding didn’t change how he felt, and he felt disappointed.

The thought of the hell he was going to put his Ilca through during training, brightened his foul mood a fraction. Looking over to where Teris sat and seeing her in his true forms colors brightened his mood immeasurably more.

He didn’t like her sitting so far away. It didn’t matter that the space wasn’t more than twenty feet. It was too far for his liking. He would have to come up with a reason to have her sit with him at his desk.

The thought of her working beside him eased his tense muscles.

“Kai.” Teris got to her feet, setting the book she had been studying on the coffee table. “I think I should get going. Shouta wanted me back by noon.”

Kai got to his feet and made his way over to her. “Be careful.”

“I will. You trained me well.”

Though acidic bile rose in his throat he forced the words out, knowing it was for Teris’ own good. “Listen to Aizawa when you’re out there.”

“I will.”

He stepped closer. Tucking her hair behind an ear, his fingers and inner wrist trailed along her neck, scenting her. “Are you ready for your gift?”

Her mouth opened.

Kai reached into his pocket.

“Kai. I—You—“

“It’ll keep you safe out there.” He said, hushing her as he pulled the gift from his pocket.

Teris eyed the purple silk cord and gold charm wondering how a necklace would protect her.

“Bow your head. Let me put in on.”

Still unsure, she did as he bid. Surprised at how the charm could feel both light and heavy.

Kai pulled her hair out from the cord, letting the necklace settle around her neck. “Prefect.”

Teris held the gold charm, examining it. Her breath caught, realizing what it was. “It’s… a scale from your true form.”

Kai’s smile grew. She was so clever. Constantly proving he had made the right choice in picking her as a companion. She might not have accepted him as a companion just yet. But with his scale around her neck, everyone, including Aizawa, would know of his claim on her.

Maybe now the Sphinx would give up and quit scenting what was his, he thought.

“What does it do?” Teris asked, holding and looking at it.

It marks you as mine, Kai thought. But he couldn’t tell her that. Instead he hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her head, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “It’ll protect you. Now go.” Before I lose control and keep you here, kissing you good and proper. “You don’t want to be late.”

Teris stretched up to her tip-toes, kissing Kai on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Kai watched her go, sure in her safety. Too bad for him he didn’t take into account the immense hate those that had sided with the griffons still held. Or the vehement faith some still had in the last remaining member of dragon-kind.

***So this fic will have a LOT more world building than my others. Please feel free to comment or send me an ask if you have any questions.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special thank you to those who have left comments and/or reblogged. They really mean a lot.

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going. Your friendship means the world to me.

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #hizashi yamada #bnha #my hero academia #fanfic #abo

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