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#in the distance you can hear me chanting ‘bugs bugs bugs BUGS BUGS-‘
daydreaming-jessi · 11 months
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The squids! The dwellers of anchordeep are usually lovers of gems and weapons similar to their bishop, and the old priests of Kallamar are no different. And yes, gusion and astaroth are gfs, I may dive into the relationship stuff about all these guys soon, we’ll see.
Someone please help baalzbub, they’re doing his best.
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shysneeze · 2 years
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don't go wasting your emotion | robin buckley x reader
description : you and robin relax at a music festival and robin is a terrible secret ABBA fan
warnings: swearing, drinking, making out, slightly suggestive comments a few times but sfw as per - suspend your disbleief for the implied festival line up too, it was the 80s, so what do ik?
(loosely based on this concept from months ago, and the fact me and @paqerings were losing our minds over the middle pic last night)
----
Robin Buckley has never looked so beautiful. 
Perched on her side across from you on the tattered blanket, her head is flung back in a laugh at a memory from earlier in the day. Loose hairs cling to her skin with sweat and there are tired circles forming beneath her eyes from the day’s excitement, but she’s too gorgeous to comprehend; beautifully dishevelled, wonderfully human. 
The sun is beginning to set, flooding the sky with that sort of turquoise haze as the light begins to fade. The air is still humid though, the kind of warm that leaves that sticky feeling on your skin, only worsened by the oily sunscreen and bug spray Robin insisted on applying at every interval throughout the day.
It’s the heat of youthful summers, and as you sip at your lukewarm drink, a concoction of cheap liquor mixed with flat colda, there’s not a single thing you would change. 
“What about when that guy started crying during Heart of Glass?” 
“Ugh, I get that seeing Blondie live was an experience but no one else wanted to listen to him sobbing during one of the best songs of all time.” Robin rolls her eyes, “He spilled his beer all over my jeans too.” 
The spilled beer was the last straw for Robin really, and when her smile had dropped and the colour drained from her cheeks, you knew it was all getting a bit too much. Now, finally free from the crowds of the mainstage, it’s reassuring to see her smiling again, growing tipsy from cheap alcohol and relaxing. 
“I’m sorry he ruined Blondie, baby,��
She lifts her free hand to capture your own, guiding it towards her cheek with a smile. She twists to gently kiss your palm before resting her smile in your hand, shaking her head gently. 
“He didn’t ruin Blondie,” Robin assures, “It’s Blondie.” 
You chuckle, grazing your thumb across the pink of her cheek. In the distance, you can still hear the crowds chanting and singing, waiting on the next performers. Robin follows your gaze, grimacing apologetically. 
“I’m sorry for dragging you back here,” She mumbles, “I just got a little overwhelmed.” 
“What?” You frown, “Robin, this is the perfect spot- look around us. It’s just us back here, no smelly drunk people or crying assholes.” 
Robin grins, blush growing beneath your fingertips. She swirls the dregs of her drink in the solo cup for a moment, smiling to herself. Returning your hand to your side as she tips the contents past her lips, you can’t help but roll your eyes lightheartedly at her shyness. 
“Don’t look so shy, Robbie,” You mumble in a halfhearted scolding, “Makes me all flustered.” 
“Your fault.” Robin shrugs with a lopsided smile, “Make me all nervous when you say stuff like that- Good nervous! Butterflies and stuff. Flustered is better. You make me flustered… too.” 
You smirk slightly, reaching out to move her empty cup from between you, and shuffling closer. Her hands are instinctive as they find your waist, and she tugs you beneath her chin, settling you comfortably beneath the arch of her throat, well practised in the art. 
Her breath blows a warm breeze over your hair as she cranes to kiss the crown of your head. Waking with the moon, the evening insects are beginning to buzz in your ears, the only sound beyond the distant rumbling of the mainstage audience. 
“Needed this,” Robin mumbles, “I liked dancing and singing with you but… I needed this.” 
“Me too,” You admit, smiling against the crook of her neck. 
You sit like that for a while, listening to the bugs and chattering crowd in the distance. She rubs circles against your waist, an absent minded action that wakes butterflies in your chest. You’re about to lean back to kiss her, anywhere you can manage, her throat, her chin, her neck, when the speakers on stage crack to life. 
“Must be the next act.” Robin says, pulling back with interest, “Who’s playing now?” 
Your lips twitch into a smirk as you untangle from her, leaning back against your elbows as you strain your eyes for a glimpse of the final performers. 
“ABBA.” 
It pulls a groan from Robin’s lips instantly. 
“I hate ABBA-”
“You do not hate ABBA, Robin,” You laugh, nudging her with your foot, “I have had hickey’s to prove it- you pretend to hate ABBA for some unfathomable reason but secretly you’re just as much a fan of the cheesy love songs as the rest of us.” 
The introductory notes of Dancing Queen begin to play and Robin’s face twists with disgust, pulling a fit of giggles from your lips. Robin gives you an unconvincing glare, arms folding in disapproval. 
“I am not an ABBA fan.” 
“You’re a terrible music snob, Robin.” You grin, “You like ABBA and we both know it.” 
Robin’s frown deepens, lips dropping into a small pout as you sing along, accompanied by the off-beat audience in the distance, a choir of drunken fans. Her determination not to sing with you is almost impressive, you can see the twitch of her lips each time the chorus plays. 
“The effort you put into not to being an ABBA fan is admirable,” You admit as the song comes to a close, grinning as your pour more lukewarm alcohol into your sticky plastic cups, “But we all know that goes out the window the second they start playing Voulez Vous.”
“That was a one time thing and I was drunk.” 
“Uh huh,” You nod, passing her a cup, “What about Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!. You seemed to really like that song when it came on at your work and you had me in the backroom in about one minute flat-” 
“You were wearing that shirt I like.” Robin argues stubbornly, sipping at her drink for a distraction from the smirk on your lips, “That was a fluke.”  
“Oh, of course,” You grin mischievously, “I see.” 
As the band continues though, lips loosened by alcohol, Robin can’t help but smile, slowly coming to sing along. Towards the end of Voulez Vous, fingers acting on a memory, her hand comes to rest on your thigh, squeezing gently with a grin, eyes full of a very specific, wanting, look. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
You shake your head in wonderful disbelief at the power ABBA has over Robin Buckley. 
Robin’s tipsy bluntness is always oddly charming, and as Lay All Your Love On Me begins in the distance, you can only nod with a delighted grin as she settles above you, climbing over your thighs as you sink back against the blanket, chased by her lips . 
She holds your face in her palms, pulling you needily into the kiss. You giggle softly against her lips, lifting your hands to cup her waist, pulling her flush against you. 
“Shut up,” She grumbles, tugging your bottom lip between her teeth, nipping you in protest. “This isn’t because of ABBA.” 
“I never said-“ You begin, faltering at the pressure of her lips against your own, “I never said a thing.” 
“I can feel the smirk on your lips.” Robin mumbles, dragging her lips towards your jaw, tilting your face to expose your throat, “This has nothing to do with the song, you just looked extra kissable-“ 
“Sure, Robin,” You grin, body jolting in surprise as her teeth graze the skin of your neck, “Why don’t you stop talking and really kiss me then?” 
Robin pulls back as if to scold your teasing, but the expectant look in your eyes only urges her towards your lips again, all teeth and tongue in the initial intensity, before softening, body melting against your own as your fingers lift into her hair, hers now braced on either side of your head.
Beyond Robin’s little moans of content and the occasional wet sound of your lips moving together, ABBA becomes background noise, and it’s not until Robin’s lips have migrated once more to your neck, that you recall what’s gotten you into this position in the first place. 
In between kisses, in an inaudible whisper, the lyrics of the song are breathed across your skin, the chorus exhaled like a secret against your sternum. 
“Robbie,” You giggle, tapping at her waist, “”You’re doing it.” 
Robin pulls herself from your skin, blinking slowly down at you, dazed. 
“Huh?” 
“For someone who hates ABBA, you sure know the words well.” 
“Oh, shut up,” Robin rolls her eyes, leaning down towards your neck once more, “-wasting your emotion…”
You squeal softly as she kisses the base of your throat, smile pressed against your skin, trailing searing kisses towards your lips, pausing with a smirk to hover above them. 
“Lay all your love,” She exhales softly, leaning torturously close, “on me…” 
“Jesus Christ, you fucking dork,” You gasp, hand coming behind her neck, “Kiss me.” 
tag-list: @woahhhfidgett @sireeeeee  @lovelyy-moonlight @starselle @robinsprker @flourelle @robinbuckleysgfreall @robinbuckleyluvr @lesbiihoenestt @sumobug @milkiane @janeswhore @strvngerrose @rxbinbuckleys @amelies-a-simp @vampirtet
feedback is always welcome :)
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callsign-bunnie · 1 year
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*chanting*
GRAPE CRUSH!
GRAPE CRUSH!!
GRAPE CRUSH!!!
GIMME THE GRAPE CRUSH!
Please
I love the quiet "Please" at the end
--
Gaz stumbled back, groaning when the lights went out and then the power went off. 
“Mierda!” Rodolfo cursed, startling him. “Alejandro-”
“I’m already working on getting you both out. Apparently a recruit hit the power box with a throwing knife.”
Rodolfo shook his head and sat against the wall. He and Gaz had been in the command room, which required a keycode to open and wouldn’t open if the power was off. As it was, right now. Gaz winced and went over to sit by him. “How long should it take?”
“The system says an hour.”
“Ah. Bloody fantastic.” Gaz shook his head. Already, he could feel himself sweating as the temperature rose. “What are we supposed to do for an hour?” He groaned.
Rodolfo sighed. “I do not know, Gaz…” He went quiet and then looked at him. “Well, Captain Price says you have been telling him a story… Do you think we could hear the next part of it? Since Alejandro told you about the time he was kidnapped. Well, one of them.”
Gaz perked up. “You… want to hear it?”
“Of course! You’re a pretty good story teller from what Price says.”
Gaz grinned, feeling proud. So Price was interested in the story. “Sure, um… has he told you what’s happened so far?”
“Yes, David tricked you into a surfing lesson by Alex, right?” Rodolfo nodded, smiling.
“Well, David really didn’t know.” Gaz blushed. “He… apologized later. But, yes, that’s essentially what happened. Okay, I’m gonna skip a bit because nothing happened the next two weeks besides us going to the beach and shopping and honestly, none of it is worth focusing on. But… Two weeks later, on a Friday, David came to me, because Jess, who was 17 by the way, I didn’t find that out until later, had invited him to a party at a much smaller, privately owned beach…”
-
Kyle pulled on a tank top, since it was fairly hot that day. It was a black one that had the logo for a video game he liked on it, which his mum had bought him on the trip. It looked fairly okay with his swim shorts, which he was wearing because he planned to go to the beach and watch the sunset. 
David had finally left him alone that day instead of bugging him to do something. Go shopping, go to surfing lessons, go to blah blah blah. 
Then, David walked in, wearing a wide grin. “Kyle-”
“Oh, no!” Kyle shook his head. “You- No. I finally get to do what I want to do, which is chill on the beach without someone causing mischief and- no.”
David pouted and came over. “You didn’t hear where I was going to ask you to go!”
“I can only imagine.” Kyle glared at him, before softening when David just pouted more. “Fine. But only because you’re my brother and I love you.”
“Hell yeah!” David grinned. “Okay, so Jess and I were hanging out and she mentioned this party-”
“No.” Kyle shook his head, immediately.
“No?”
“No.” Kyle repeated. “I do not go to parties. I am 15 and a half. I do not go to parties.”
David groaned and whined. “Kyleeeeeeee….” He pouted, again. “Please??? I need a wingman and… Jess is… really hot and… she’s too hot for me…” He made a sad face which was so fucking fake, but it was already working. “I just… need my brother to go with me.”
“I hate you.” Kyle mumbled, rolling his eyes and looking away. “Fine, but only for an hour or so.”
“Fantastic!” David grinned. “Let’s go, it should be starting soon!” He grabbed Kyle’s wrist and yanked him out the door.
They ended up walking to the party, and as they walked, Kyle’s nerves got more and more heightened. He was 15 and a half and he was going to a party. They heard the music from a small distance and Kyle made a face, not really liking the stuff that was playing. But… well, he was this far.
Or this close.
Whatever.
He shook it off and looked around as they got closer, shrinking a little into David. “I’m not drinking.”
“Neither am I.” David shrugged as they finally arrived to the beach. Kyle could see there were a lot of people, a couple of which looked closer to their age. In fact, they seemed to range from their age to maybe the oldest being 21. 
David immediately beelined for a drink table and they both grabbed a soda before David started to look around. “Jess said she’d be here when we got here… Where… oh, there! Just… stay here and I’ll be right back with her!”
Kyle tried to stop him as he left, but he didn’t succeed before David had ditched him and Kyle saw him disappear into the small crowd of people dancing. He cringed back into himself and hugged himself, biting the inside of his cheek. This was… horrible. 
Thankfully, everyone seemed to ignore him, dancing to Cooler Than Me, which he was shocked he recognized. David had it on his Ipod, Kyle was pretty sure. 
David please come back… 
Telepathically begging didn’t seem to be working. Fuck. 
“Hey, what are you doing here??”
Kyle’s whole body froze and he internally groaned. Oh no. He turned and looked up at Alex, who did not seem to be looking at him like one would look at someone they were pleasantly surprised to see. Instead, he appeared to be deeply concerned. “Oh um… David asked me to come?”
Alex frowned. “Where is he?” He looked around and Kyle did the same before wincing. Alex looked at him and then just sighed, shaking his head. “That’s fine. Just stick close to me.”
Kyle blushed dark. “I don’t… I don’t think I have to do that… I’ll be fine!” He assured. 
“You’re like 15, you shouldn’t even be at a party!” Alex shook his head, running a hand down his face. 
Kyle huffed. “I’m 15 and a half!”
“The half is important?” Alex crossed his arms, his expression changing to amusement. 
Kyle glared at him. “Incredibly.” He muttered and hugged himself tighter. “I just… I’ll be fine…”
“Okay, how about this. I would like you to stay near me because I am concerned for you and I don’t want you to get hurt?” Alex sighed, dropping his arms. “Please?” He looked at Kyle, his expression soft.
Kyle stared at him. Oh that was not fair! There was no way Alex didn’t know what he was doing! He groaned and shook his head. “Fine.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes when Alex’s face changed to a grin. Prick. 
“Perfect. Well, you’re in luck, my friends ditched me, too.” Alex sighed and shook his head. “Have you ever been to a party before?”
Kyle hesitated, seriously considering saying yes to appear cool but… he doubted Alex would believe him. “No…” He winced, admitting. “Not really my thing.”
“You’re 15, I would hope not.” Alex shook his head.
“And a half-”
“Yeah, yeah.” Alex laughed and Kyle blushed dark again. “Well, they’re pretty straightforward.”
Kyle suddenly got a thought, narrowing his eyes. “How long have you been going to them?”
“Three years,” Alex seemed to answer without thinking and then he was also turning dark red. “Okay, wait-”
“Ha!” Kyle said. “Rules for me but not for thee??” He joked, crossing his arms. “You’re a hypocrite.”
Alex seemed to stare at him before rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Fine, fine. You got me, you’re right… I’ve been going to parties since I was 15, however, I definitely would not have gone to them if I could go back.”
Kyle blushed. Again. “Well, the only reason I’m here is for my brother…” Who still hadn’t come back. Great. He winced as the music got even louder and hugged himself, again, trying to shrink into the drink table. 
Alex seemed to frown and then he nudged his head towards the water. “Come on, I want to go look at the water.”
Kyle hesitated before nodding, hoping it was a bit quieter over there. He followed Alex, glancing back a few times and hoping to see David, but not having any luck. Whatever, he was sure David would find him later.
Alex led him over to the edge of the water and then he was plopping down in the sand. Kyle made a face, not really wanting to get his shorts sandy. He resolved to just stay standing and Alex looked up at him. “You good?”
“I’d rather not have to shake sand out of my shorts later…” Kyle mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. “I can just stand.”
Alex raised an eyebrow before shrugging, just pulling his shirt off. He laid it out in the sand and Kyle immediately looked away, trying not to think hard about that, but ultimately sitting down and pulling his knees up to his chest. “How have you been?” Alex asked.
Kyle hesitated. “Um… I’ve been okay. Mostly just going to the beach.”
“I’ve noticed you haven’t come to too many lessons…” Alex frowned. “Any reason why?”
“Surfing really isn’t for me.” Kyle admitted. “I only went because David wanted to impress this girl and… well, he ended up finding Jess, so… I just didn’t go.”
“Oh.” Alex frowned and Kyle almost fancied that he looked disappointed, but Kyle was willing to believe he was making that one up. “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun.” He shrugged, leaning back on his hands. 
Kyle looked towards the horizon, smiling as he looked at the sunset. Thinking of Alex’s words, he looked up, looking for the darkest part of the sky and melting. “Yeah, that is a nice blue.”
“You remembered that?” Alex looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
Fuck. “Uh… Yeah. I haven’t talked to many others, so it’s hard not to.” Kyle quickly lied to cover it up. No, actually, he’d thought about any time he was outside and the sun was setting. Hell, he thought about it when it was rising, too. Alex was… kind of permanently in his head. It was embarrassing. He was already looking forward to going back to England and just… forgetting about this-
-
“Well, that didn’t end up happening, did it?” Soap’s voice came over the coms.
“Soap??” Gaz cringed. “You’ve been listening??”
“The power is out and I’m bored.”
“Where’s Alejandro?” Rodolfo lifted his head from where it’d been leaned against the wall.
“I’m still here, Mi Luna.”
Gaz softened, thinking they were so sweet. Rodolfo smiled to himself, shaking his head. Gaz went to keep going. “Where was I-”
“I don’t get something.” Soap cut him off. “Also Ghost and that mercenary are listening, too, but they’re with Alejandro in his office.” That mercenary sounded awfully bitter…
“Hello.” Ghost’s voice.
Gaz blushed dark red. “Great. Love this.” The mercenary was likely referring to Roach, who had just shown up out of nowhere. He was supposed to be dead, but… apparently not. “Who else is listening?”
“I think Price might be, but I doubt it. He said he was going to take the opportunity to take a nap.” Soap.
“He acts like he’s senile, he’s like 37!” Gaz rolled his eyes.
“And a half.” Price.
Laughter came over the coms and from Rodolfo and Gaz shook his head. “What don’t you get, Soap?”
“Price said you said this was a conundrum. You and Alex are together now. You’ve been together for almost a year… Why is this a big deal?”
“Because… I don’t know. It’s weird. What if he decides that it’s weird and breaks up with me?” Admitting this when knowing 6 people were listening in was pretty embarrassing, but he was already there, so. 
“Sounds like someone, eh mi Luna?” 
“Shh…” Rodolfo laughed, softly.
Gaz looked at him and tilted his head, but he didn’t get any sort of clarification. “I just… don’t want him to think this is a deal breaker.”
“So you tell the story to a bunch of random people? Solid logic.” Ghost.
Gaz rolled his eyes. “Thanks. I mean… It was originally supposed to just be Price.”
“Okay, okay, vamos. I want the rest.”
“I don’t know… You took three days to tell us about yourself being kidnapped…” Gaz half grinned.
“Garrick.” Gaz couldn’t help but shiver at Ghost’s voice, giving him a warning. Oh that was why Soap did everything Ghost told him to. Even still, Gaz almost didn’t anyway. 
But, he sighed and took a deep breath, starting to continue.
-
Fuck. “Uh… Yeah. I haven’t talked to many others, so it’s hard not to.” Kyle quickly lied to cover it up. No, actually, he’d thought about any time he was outside and the sun was setting. Hell, he thought about it when it was rising, too. Alex was… kind of permanently in his head. It was embarrassing. He was already looking forward to going back to England and just… forgetting about this stupid crush.
Alex didn’t look completely convinced, just shrugging. “Right. Well… yeah, I really like it.” He looked up at the sky. 
Kyle did the same, noting that you could see the stars, though not that many. “When I was a kid-”
“You’re still a kid.”
“When I was a younger kid,” Kyle glared at him, “there was a field behind my foster parents’ house. There weren’t any streetlamps or anything, so it would get very dark outside. So, when I would have trouble sleeping, I’d go out and lay in the field. Since it was pretty dark, you could see more of the stars… So, I’d try to count them. Always gave up around 113.”
Alex looked over at him and then looked back up at the sky. The sun was finally starting to dip down under the horizon, so more and more of the stars could be seen. “113 is pretty high.”
“Yeah…” Kyle nodded. “I always fell asleep around that point. Woke up covered in grass and dirt too many times.” 
“That’s funny.” Alex laughed and Kyle glared at him, again. “If you go out on the water a small distance, you can see a lot of the stars. The sky looks packed full of them. They’re pretty bright, too.”
Kyle hesitated. “That sounds really nice…” He nodded. “I’d love to see it…” He hoped Alex would get the hint. He wasn’t doing it for any romantic reason, he just really would like to see it.
Alex looked over at him before shaking his head. “I’ll get a board, hold on.” He stood up and brushed himself off before heading off.
Kyle relaxed, smiling to himself. He was excited to get to see the stars from the water and it being with Alex was even better, if he was honest. 
Alex was quick, coming back with a surfboard and gesturing for Kyle to follow. Kyle, obviously, immediately got up and did so, following him to the edge of the tide and then putting the leg strap around his ankle before starting to wade out with Alex. Alex took them a fair distance out, though it wasn’t enough that Kyle couldn’t hear the music from the party. 
When they were a bit out, Alex hummed. “It won’t be perfect. I usually take a boat. But… Well, you see how dark it is.”
Kyle looked around, noticing how dark it was, indeed. In fact, the moon and the lights of the tiki torches from the party were the only lights around. It was almost eerie, since he could hear movement in the distance of water, but he couldn’t really see it. In fact, he could hardly see where the sky ended and the water began. Had it gotten dark so fast??
Alex held onto his board and then nudged his head up. “Sit up.”
Kyle carefully stood up, remembering how Alex had said to do so, and then he looked up at the sky, smiling as he saw all of the stars in the sky. It wasn’t as many as he remembered from the field, but it was more than one could see in the average city. “It’s still so beautiful…”
“I think so.” Alex nodded, also looking up. He looked at Kyle for a moment and then sighed. “You know, I don’t think I’d ever be glad to be missing a party to hang out with a 15 year old- And a half, I get it, but… you really are pretty cool.”
Kyle blushed dark red. It’s only 2 and a half years. Yeah, but… maybe that would be a short time to anyone else, but… Kyle knew he was only 15, and a half, and Alex was 18. In 2 and a half years, it may be less weird. Hell, in a year, it might be less weird. But… for now it was. In Kyle’s mind. Even still… he really liked Alex. 
Ugh, this was frustrating! Besides, what did it even matter? In a month, he’d be going back to England and Kyle wouldn’t ever see him again! 
-
“Man that really didn’t happen-”
“Soap!”
Gaz laughed, softly. “Can I please keep telling the story??”
“Yeah, yeah.”
-
Ugh, this was frustrating! Besides, what did it even matter? In a month, he’d be going back to England and Kyle wouldn’t ever see him again! And, Alex had made it pretty clear that he just saw Kyle as a kid. Which… Kyle would reluctantly admit that he was.
This sucked. 
He frowned as he noticed Alex was looking towards the beach. He hoped Alex wasn’t going to take them back so soon, that would be disappointing… He winced when he saw David was on the beach, watching them and waving. No, he definitely did not want to go back, because he knew David would do something to embarrass him!
It was a split second decision. Maybe it was a stupid one but… 
Kyle fell off the board. He didn’t stop his own breath and made the choice not to tread water, quickly sinking and just using his arms to try to stay afloat, knowing that would barely keep him above the water. 
Well, he expected Alex to panic just a little, he did not expect to be lifted out of the water and almost slammed into the board. That… fucking hurt. They somehow made it back to the beach in the time it took Kyle to catch his breath and then David was quickly asking if he was okay, looking panicked. 
“You’re a swimmer! I don’t know how that would happen!” David said, putting a towel around his shoulders.
Alex shook his head. “Riptides can suck anyone in.”
Kyle paused. Riptide? He looked at Alex, who was focusing on getting the leg strap off his ankle. He knew David wouldn’t know why that was a shit excuse but… Alex should… Unless Alex was panicking still? Well, Alex’s breath did look rather heavy, in fact, he still looked very concerned as he got up, looking over Kyle. “Are you okay?”
“I just fell off…” Kyle mumbled. “I guess it was a strong riptide.” He decided to roll with it, anyway. The speed with which Alex had rescued him was… Well, his chest was very warm. It had him fuzzy and trying not to swoon. Swoon. God, Kyle.
“Maybe we should go home…” David mumbled. “I think it’s pretty late.”
“I think that’s best.” Alex sighed and nodded. 
Kyle coughed a little, the salt from the water burning his throat. He was never going to pull that shenanigan, again. Especially since it’d just gotten him dragged to the beach, anyway! He should have seen that coming, he knew but… Whatever. Mistakes and lessons or whatever. 
He was kind of disappointed, wanting to spend more time with Alex, but… He supposed that he could always come back to the beach tomorrow. “It was fun to hang out with you…” He told Alex.
“Likewise.” Alex nodded. “Come by the beach tomorrow, so I can make sure you’re okay.”
Kyle blushed dark when Alex touched his shoulder and nodded. “Okay…” He then turned and started to walk with David, again. 
“How did you almost drown??” David asked as they started to walk back. 
Kyle rolled his eyes, now kind of irritated. “I don’t know. Do you care? Since you abandoned me.”
“I’m sorry…” David winced. “I saw you with Alex and I thought you’d be fine! You looked fine!”
“You still abandoned me!” Kyle made a frustrated sound. “You’ve been treating me like rubbish this entire time! You keep abandoning me and dragging me around and- I’m sick of it! Find one of the other siblings to be your wingman because I don’t want to do it anymore.” 
David frowned and went quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry-”
“That’s not good enough!” Kyle knew he was maybe overreacting, but he was sick of David dragging him around! “Find someone else.”
David winced but nodded. “Okay… I… I will. I’m sorry, Kyle. I really am…”
“Whatever.” Kyle muttered and went up to the room they were sharing, just going to bed before David came in. Whatever.
-
Gaz looked up as the power came on and made a triumphant sound. “Finally!”
“Just in time. Rodolfo and I are both off tomorrow, so we’re going to the ranch house.”
“Aw, we don’t get to join?” Gaz joked before jumping as both immediately said no. He raised an eyebrow before seeing Rodolfo turn dark red. Oh. Gross. Yeah, no thanks.  “Nevermind.” 
“I still don’t see how this is a conundrum. It sounds like Alex liked you.” Soap said.
“He didn’t. He made it very clear I was just a kid…” Gaz sighed. “But… I still just worry about it.”
“I don’t think that will happen. He’s very clearly deeply into you. Grossly into you.” Soap laughed.
Gaz huffed, but Rodolfo touched his arm. “Don’t let him be mean to you, he’s just upset over Gho-”
“SHUT IT.”
Gaz and Rodolfo both laughed, laughing even harder when Ghost spoke up, “over who?”
“Ignore them! They don’t fucking know what they’re talking about.”
“I mean, I think we do.” Gaz muttered. “But, what do I know?” He knew he was just riling Soap up, but hey, Soap considered it his professional job to rile everyone around him up, so Gaz was just returning the favor. 
“Well, I’m gonna get going.” Rodolfo smiled. “I will see you in two days. Might get the rest of the story from you.”
“I will definitely give it.” Gaz grinned.
--
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shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
harmless (viii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst
Word count: 3.5k
A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Previous Part || Series Masterlist
He doesn’t expect to see you on TV. 
In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.
But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.
You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest. 
He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.
Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.
You better get your ass here, sarge
And so he does.
Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.
“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self. 
“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”
“What’s your dumb plan then?” 
“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”
“Where is it?” 
“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”
Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm. 
The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.
There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.
“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”
“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.
“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”
He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”
“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”
He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.
“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction. 
“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.” 
Bucky looks down.
“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”
“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”
“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”
“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”
“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”
Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.
"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.” 
“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.
“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”
He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.
“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”
“No. Stay there.”
“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.
“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.
“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked. 
When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome. 
“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.
“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.
He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went. 
“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence. 
Now that simply wouldn’t do. 
Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.
“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.
“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”
“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”
“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.
“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him. 
“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”
He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure. 
“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”
“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat. 
“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”
“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.
He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-
“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand. 
You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.
“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you. 
“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.  
“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.
“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately. 
If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.  
The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair. 
“What the fu-”
“Hello,” your voice comes from above him. 
“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.
“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”
He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.
“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.
There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.
“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.
“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.
“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.
“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate. 
“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.
“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.
“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.
“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him. 
He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.
“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”
He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.
“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”
“I’m not.”
“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help. 
He rolls his eyes.
You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand. 
He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory. 
He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.
The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.
“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”
He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.
“Right.” You clear your throat. 
He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance. 
“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”
“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.
“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”
He didn’t. 
“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”
Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?
“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”
“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?” 
He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back. 
“You go on missions a lot?” 
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.
He got that reference.
“What’s your favourite food then?”
He scrunches his eyebrows.
“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”
It’s not, he’s just never thought about it. 
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”
“Vague, but I’ll take it.”
He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own. 
It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side. 
“What do you do in your downtime?”
“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.
“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm. 
There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?
“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”
You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”
He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.
“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”
“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him. 
The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.
“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually. 
He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.
Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle. 
“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”
He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that. 
Frankly, he’s a little stunned.
You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”
At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.
A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.
You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there. 
“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”
“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”
“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.
“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage. 
He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets. 
Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-
“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”
Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”
He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.
The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints. 
You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.
“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job. 
“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”
Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.
Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.
He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.
Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.
You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.
You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.
“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”
He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder. 
“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.” 
He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.
“You wanted to talk to me.”
He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”
“Bullshit,” you laugh.
“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”
“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”
He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too. 
Next part
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infraaa · 3 years
Text
The wintery nights of Diasomnia never felt so lonely at times. Ramshackle looked more desolate than it usually did. There was a certain draconic fae prince however that could change that.
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“Of course it’s beautiful, Grim. It’s just so… you know..”
The young prefect looked up at the black glittering sky, covered with stars and light dreamy snowfall. The snow laden ground was enough to make Ramshackle look more like a gravesite than a dorm. It was too cold for them to venture out, and it wasn’t like they had any suitable winter wear to withstand the brutal breeze. They looked back to their furry friend, who sat comfortably on the windowsill by them. “You’ll get used to it, I’m suuure ya will! After all, ya’ve gotten used to me, eh?” The cat said, almost haughtily. This made Y/n pout. With a sigh, they closed their window and started to prepare for bed. Usually a warm herbal tea helped them, but they didn’t feel like boiling anything. Warm fire mocked them. The winter was laughing at them, they felt cold in Ramshackle all by themselves and this lazy cat that followed them around. However, on this cold night, someone was thinking of the young prefect…
“Young Master, please, won’t you look at the time? It’s so late, and it’s so cold outside!” Sebek nearly coddled away at his dorm leader, like he usually does. Silver was fast asleep on the couch in the lobby. Lilia was looking towards Sebek as he nearly cried about begging his dorm leader to stay. Malleus sent Sebek a look that said, “I’m leaving, there’s nothing you can do about it.” With a coy smile, he opened the dormitories’ front door, and walked out, like a spoiled child. “I’m going to see the Child of Man. I needn’t ask for your back sass.” He called out into the wind as he walked. Blushing out of embarrassment, Sebek slowly back peddled his way back into the dorm and closed the doors shut. He looked down at his feet in self disgust. All Lilia could do is laugh as he floated over towards his young ward. “He will be fine,” Lilia comforted, like a proud father with his son, “I’m pretty sure he’s feeling just as lonely as they are.”
They couldn’t sleep. The heater wasn’t working properly and the blankets that covered their mediocre mattress weren’t holding them through. They tried to cuddle themselves into their blankets, breathing warm air into their own body. But they felt a petite sense of warmth on their skin a few minutes after the fact. Right before they drifted off, they felt a bug on their cheek, swiping away at it, they opened their eyes to see that it was a green firefly. It gently buzzed around the prefect’s head, making sure they didn’t lay back down. Another one appeared after that. And then another, and another, and another. They weren’t coming from the window, so how were they just appearing? They sat up in their bed and looked around at all the quick to appear fireflies, making the room glow a dark green color. The candlesticks of their bedroom also began to light themselves ablaze!
Green flame after green flame, the fireflies swarmed the candles, one by one, they lit themselves, emitting precious warmth that sadly couldn’t be felt because of distance. Y/n was confused at this occurrence. But not even a moment later did they hear a familiar voice chant out from the shadows. “Child of man? Are you awake, my dear?” Y/n looked around to see nothing but a pair of emerald glowing eyes amongst the shadows. As they grew closer, the fireflies began to vanish. They began to see just who it was that infiltrated their house. Black sleek horns, his eyes, that pale complexion illuminated by the green candlelights, it was Malleus, their friend.
“Malleus,” Y/n started, tilting their head, “why are you in here? This is quite unusual for you, don’t you think?” The dragon prince chuckled as he put a slim finger to his chin, his matte black fingernails taking a green sheen. “A little bird told me that… oh, well,” he stopped himself for a second to think, “your… your heater. Yes, your heater has malfunctioned. I’m not quite sure as to how, but because of this, I couldn’t possibly try and make you lose the warmth you gained. So, I just showed up here to make things easier for you.” He took a candlestick and placed it onto Y/n’s bedside table, walking over to their window. The snowfall outside had began to pick up. They smiled at his grace. He turned to see their face and smiled, his half lidded eyes making him look even more attractive in their eyes. “It is cold outside tonight, Child of Man,” he started, smirking, “human bodies are kin to fine china. So fragile yet so complex.” He strolled back over to their bed, sitting down gently. Y/n scooted away to give him more room, allowing him to comfort himself. They stared each other square in the eye. Never before had the room felt so warm in such cold conditions.
“If you wish, I can assist you.” Malleus suggested. Y/n turned bright red, their eyebrows furrowing. What kind of suggestion was that coming from the heir of the Valley of Thorns?! How was he going to carry this through? “Allow me to show you something.” A little green flame emitted from his lips, in between his fingers. Y/n looked at this in astonishment, seeing that this was their first time seeing him show off one of his draconic abilities to them. “There is a rule that comes with fire such as this.” “And what might that be?” Y/n asked eagerly, exciting Malleus as he took a breath. “Draconic fire cannot hurt the ones that which it’s owner loves. Actually, dragons use these flames to communicate affection to one another. Albeit that does sound like an unorthodox method of communicating such affections..” his speech trailed off for a second as the room grew quiet again. Y/n made the decision to slowly inch closer towards Malleus, looking him in the eye. “Were you planning on helping me warm up by using these flames on me?” They asked, quite nervously. Malleus bit his lip and averted his gaze over, meeting Y/n’s questioning eyes as they showed a different image in his mind. Those cute eyes, the way they smile, how their cheeks turn bright red at times when they’re with him. Especially in the winter, when they’re face was always a little pink due to the cold wind.
Instead of answering with words, he got up off of the bed and repositioned himself to where he was sitting behind Y/n, pulling them in between his legs. With a small smile, he moved their h/c hair away from their shoulder and lowered himself down slightly, gently beginning to blow a soft flame to their shoulder and the nape of their neck. When they felt this, their eyes locked shut, expecting it to feel slightly uncomfortable. However, when they realized that it didn’t feel as hot as they thought, they slowly eased into the comfort of the flames being blown on their skin. Flame after flame, Malleus acted as a portable heater to the prefect, the gentle warm flames caressing their skin as they slowly relaxed in his hold. Their breathing started to slow and their limbs started to become heavy. “Mal..” Y/n cooed with the sleepiest voice he’s heard since he was a child. He smiled and continued to blow his gentle flames to their skin. They eventually fell asleep under the cradle of the flames, warmth bringing on a calm wave of sleep. Malleus saw this, and as he was about to adjust the prefect so that he could take his leave, he felt Y/n tug at his arm lazily. “Do they want me to stay?” Malleus asked himself quietly. After a few seconds of this, he chuckled softly, looking down at his little treasure fondly. Pressing a kiss to the crown of their head, he gently smiled, “Okay then, my dear Child of Man. I shall stay with you.”
And that wintery night, sleep never felt so good to the both of them, sleep was never so peaceful during the cold times, being accompanied by love was all the fae needed to be taken by the young Ramshackle Prefect, the gemstone of his immortal eye.
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somethingvaguetodo · 3 years
Text
I Won’t Let You Down, So Please Don’t Give Me Up
For @2grinninggirls who requested “unbind me” from this prompt list. Read on AO3 here.
~~~
“Free me, Marinette.” Chat’s crystal clear blue eyes were pleading, his white claw extended toward her.
Ladybug ran toward him, but every step she took closer made the distance between them grow. “I’m coming,” she called out to him, but he didn’t seem to hear.
“We can be happy together, my lady.”
Ladybug wiped her tears as she ran, stumbling in her haste, but it was as if she was running into a hurricane, and wasn’t strong enough to fight the wind. “I’m trying!”
Chat was a white blur against the azure sky. “Let’s fix the world together,” he said, his voice soft. “Our two miraculouses together, and we can be free from all of this. No more Hawkmoth, no more fighting, no more secrets. Just you and me, us against the world.”
She fell to her knees, unable to run anymore. “We can end it?” She wasn’t supposed to want that. She wasn’t supposed to listen to his sweet words, his promise of freedom and peace and no more heartbreak.
That didn’t stop her from longing for it with every fiber of her being.
“Yes, Ladybug.” Suddenly he was next to her, holding out a hand to help her stand up, supporting her like he always did. She looked up at him, hesitant, not sure if taking his hand was equivalent to making a deal with the devil. “We can fix the world to be just how we want it. We can be free. Maybe just the two of us, on a deserted island, living off of coconuts and passionfruit.” His smile was soft and sweet - it didn’t match his akumatized form. “Or we can stay in Paris, and one day take over your parent’s bakery like your father wanted.” She wanted it; oh how she wanted it. Freedom, not having to worry about having the weight of the world on her shoulders anymore, a real partnership with this boy who meant the world to her. She lifted her hand, mesmerized by him, and let her palm settle against his. “Or we can live in a little cottage on the outskirts of the city, with a vegetable garden and a hamster named - ”
“Marinette!”
Marinette jolted awake, sitting up ramrod straight in bed and nearly banging her head against the ceiling. Tikki fluttered in front of her face, clearly distraught. “I’m sorry for waking you up, Marinette,” she said, rubbing her little nub hands together. “You were crying, and whimpering, and I figured you were having a bad dream.”
Marinette nodded, holding a hand to her chest as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down. She rubbed her other hand over her face, noting that it was wet, and the tears that had fallen in her dream had actually tracked down her cheeks while she was sleeping.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Tikki asked. Marinette nodded again, but without waiting for Tikki to continue, called on her transformation.
Ladybug took Marinette’s place in her bed, and she curled up on her side against her giant cat plush before opening up her yo-yo.
Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up. She internally chanted as the call went through, counting each ring and steeling herself for the possibility of being sent to voicemail.
“M’lady, issthere an akuma?”
Chat’s voice was slurred with sleep, and Ladybug felt bad about waking him up, but couldn’t ignore the immediate relief she felt at hearing his voice.
“No akuma, Chat,” she assured him. “I… just wanted to talk to you. Sorry.”
“Another nightmare?” He sounded more awake now. This wasn’t the first time Marinette had woken up from a bad dream, and it wasn’t the first time she had called Chat for help. She never told him the details of the dreams, wanting to spare him the burden of the knowledge of his akumatization, but knowing he was there on the other side was always reassuring.
She shoved the phone between her ear and her cat pillow, leaving her hands free to play with the edge of the comforter. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, bug. Want to talk about it?”
“I just wanted to hear your voice.” She purposefully avoided the question. If she let him ask too much, she would eventually give in to the fact that she did want to talk about it. And if she started talking, she probably wouldn’t be able to stop. “Sorry to wake you, I won’t keep you up for long.”
“You can keep me up all night,” Chat said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
She let out a giggle. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Anything.”
Chat was silent for a moment. “Coccinellidae is a widespread family of small beetles ranging in size from 0.8 to 18mm.”
“Are you reading to me from the ladybug Wikipedia page?”
“Yep. Clearly I need to edit it because you’re definitely taller than 18 millimeters. You’re at least 1500 millimeters.”
“I hate you,” she answered him, but she was grinning, and she knew he knew it.
She stayed quiet while he read, feeling warm and comfortable with the sound of his voice, hushed over the phone so he didn’t wake the rest of his household and telling her about the etymology of the word ladybug. By the time he reached color variations, her eyelids had drifted shut, and she knew they would have to bring their conversation to a close soon.
“Hey, Chat?” She cut him off. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to ask him this question, but couldn't keep it in. “Have you ever thought about… using our miraculouses? To make a wish?”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Is that what your dream was about?”
“Partially,” she conceded.
“I’ve… thought about it.” Chat sounded hesitant. “Not that I would ever do it!” he rushed to assure her. “But thought about it in an abstract way, I guess.”
“I…” Marinette didn’t know how to finish her thought. “What would you wish for?”
Chat was silent for a while, and she was worried that he was offended by the question. Finally, he spoke. “Freedom.”
It seemed like a simple word, but it held the weight of the world.
“Freedom to make my own decisions, to make my own path in life. Freedom to be your… friend… without needing secret identities to keep us safe.”
Her heart rate picked up. It was so similar to what the Chat in her dreams had said, it was almost as if he was there. Or, more likely, it was almost as if her subconscious knew him better than she liked to admit.
“That’s what I’d wish for too.”
It seemed irreverent to admit that to him. It was far from her biggest secret, but it was somehow shameful to confess that she wanted freedom from their responsibilities, that she wanted to just be with him without worrying about his akumatization, or her own akumitization, or what would really happen to the world if Hawkmoth got their miraculouses.
“Really?” Chat sounded surprised and hopeful, and she hated how both of them knew that this may not happen for a really long time.
“Really.”
“One day it won’t be a wish,” he said. “One day it won’t just be an idea of our perfect world, but we’ll make it our world.”
“Yeah?” She asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re gonna make our world, not wish it into existence.”
Chat let out a low chuckle. “I think it’s time for you to go back to sleep, m’lady.”
As much as she wanted to fight it, she couldn't overcome the sleepiness that had settled in her bones, pressing down on her eyelids and making her feel warm and cozy. “Okay, goodnight.”
“Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”
Ladybug smiled. “Hey, Chat?” She waited for his answering hum before finishing her thought. “I’m going to free you.”
She could hear Chat breathing, but wished she could see his face. Behind her eyelids he was smiling, soft and sweet, and his eyes were glowing a brilliant green. “I’ll hold you to that, bug.”
Ladybug listened to the quiet three beeps that let her know the call had disconnected. She let her transformation fall, wrapped her arms tight around her cat pillow and dropped into a dreamless sleep.
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astormyjet · 3 years
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Winter of 2018 - Summer of 2021 TIME FILES WHEN YOU’RE IN YOUR 20s!!!!
OH BOY. It’s been three years (or more) since I updated this. “Time is a weird soup!” to quote a fave. I guess I quit tumblr around the time there was a purge of content and creators and a smack down on a lot of the fandom communities. Tumblr has always been something of a crapshow though so I’ve been more productive with my time than I was in some ways, but I’ve also found other ways to waste my time. *cough twitter/netflix/youtube/MTGArena cough*.
General Life Achievements since 2018 -JLPT N3 GET in 2019! -Blackbelt GET in 2018! -TESOL 120 Hour and BE 50 Hour Cert from online provider GET in 2021 -STUDENT LOAN BANISHED (Thank you grandparents) -Survived Apartment flooding in early 2020. -Mystery anxiety related illness and chronic pain in my left leg from early 2020 - Present. -A mythical 6th and 7th year on the JET Programme. -Started posting on Instagram a lot more about my wanderings around Matsuyama/Uwajima. Mainly old buildings and stray cats. @astormyknight -Surviving so far in Japan with old rona-chan.
2018 was rough. I was given an additional school in the first semester (March to July) as we had someone find a better job. I enjoyed it, but it was a bit of a rough go especially when I was transferred that August after three fantastic years at Tsubaki JHS and ES and only a semester there. I legit went through the five stages of grief - which I think is another reason I stopped blogging. I was given my current base school along with four other schools. Going from 2(3) to 5 schools was a bit of an adjustment. I still feel a bit spread out.
That said, I keep running into teachers and students who were at the Tsubaki’s. The teachers shuffle around every April, so it's always a lottery with which new faces are going to be old friends (or enemies…). A couple of kids moved and transferred into my current schools from Tsubaki too. So I have one kid I can say I've been teaching for 6 out of the 7 years I've been here!
One of the kids who was in JHS 3rd grade when I first got here (in 2015!) hangs out around one of my favorite cafes, so I got chatting with him recently. He's in his second year of nursing school - his class nearly broke me in the first year, it was really a trial by fire with those kids. I was 22 then, and he’s 20 now, so it was interesting chatting to him about that first year of teaching. His younger sister was one of my favorite students too, she was in the group of kids that graduated in the March of 2018, the year group that went through Tsubaki JHS with me - they’re newly minted University students now!
This Thursday morning when I was cycling in to work, a kid who was 2nd year JHS when I left  (so 2nd or 3rd year JHS now) pulled up with their Mum in a van and got their mamachari out of the back to bike to school. The franticness of it all was hilarious. Their Mum legit sat on the horn until I pulled over. I was so happy to run into this kid, even at social distance and both of us late to work/school - because we both remembered each other and as they were going around the corners they were yelling each time they turned and humming the old elementary school directions chant and pelting me with questions about what I’ve been up to.
I've had so many students and schools now, that everything is kind of running into a blur. I remember flashes of kids faces and voices, random memories of in class or out of class shenanigans out of the blue. Also, I now, more than ever, have issues remembering kids' names, but I still know their faces (even with their masks), whose homeroom class they were in, who their friends were and which club they were in. I get random flashbacks to past conversations with them when I see them on the street or we run into each other. I feel bad because the first thing former students ask is ‘Do you remember my name?’ and I always have to be like, ‘Honestly, no, but I remember you did this on x day, x month in x classroom’.
Socially in 2018 -2019 - a few of our friends went home and things shook up a little. Our DnD group changed a bit - one of our players stepped into the role forever DM (THANK YOU RALPH). From memory the newbies were great - some of them just went home at the start of last month and it’s weird not seeing them around (JESS DO YOUR BEST!). I think we only have one or two people left from that rotation. There’s no 6th year ALTs, and only two 5th years.
Aug 2018 - Aug 2019 was the year of Hiura - my mountain school. Dang man, they were so cool. The students of the JHS and the ES combined barely hit 30, so each class was between 3-10 students depending on the grade. It was easier to get to know the kids, their abilities and their goals than it has been for me at other schools. I miss it so bad, being in nature once a week did my country-kid heart so good! The bugs! The frogs! The river! The mountain! The monkeys! The lizards! The dilapidated houses and hidden shrines!!!! The random crabs in the English room...I forgot that there was such a thing as freshwater crabs, and being right next to a river, the invasion wasn’t as out of place as I first thought...  
The area is so picturesque and calming. Every week up there was a small adventure (after getting over my motion sickness from the bus ride up). The kids were constantly pranking either myself or the main English teacher. There was always some new weird bug or lizard in a tank to be educated about. There were chickens on the way to the JHS that used to escape from their cardboard box prisons to run riot on the gardens. There were old people to freak out with my youth and foreignness! The kids also got to do a lot of extra classes, sumiyakai (making charcoal the traditional way), planting and maintaining rice paddies, setting up vegetable gardens, raising fireflies, conserving a special breed of fire lily (only found in this particular mountain valley) and another rare flower, wilderness training ect.
I wish I could have stayed there a lot longer but SOMEONE (read...the BoE) decided that schools had to be shuffled again(thank goodness the dude who has it now was able to keep it from the 2021 shuffle, he's the best fit for the school). I had so many good memories from there, I wish I had been more consistent in writing it down. I do have a bunch of photos and videos from there though, so that's nice. The only thing I don’t miss is the bus trip up and down - not only was it motion sickness, there was a healthy dose of fear each ride as the driver brought us perilously close to the edge of the mountain drop…
2019 - 2020 was interesting. With the school I got given instead of the Hirua’s I was roped into more demonstration lessons which was a lot of pressure because I was also involved quite heavily with the JHS observation and training lessons too. They were somewhat rewarding, the third graders are now super smart 5th graders, but the teachers  who need to embrace the new curriculum and ways of teaching really haven’t taken on anything from the lessons....
Outside of work as well, I was given the chance, thanks to an ALT buddy of mine, to join in with the local festival. It's been one of the biggest highlights of my time here, and I am gutted it’s been cancelled for the last two years, but I understand the reason…. I was able to travel to Okinawa too during that summer for an international Karate seminar with the Dojo I train with. I met the head of the style I currently practice and a bunch of people from around the world. I also got to see Shuri castle before it burned down. So that was a stroke of luck. One of the places I want to go when/if we get out of this pandemic is Okinawa. I want to see more of those Islands so bad. Just before the whole pandemic thing too - I managed to see the Rugby World Cup, a Canada vs NZ match, I even ran into Tana Umanga in Oita city!!!
2019 - 2020 was supposed to be my last year on JET, so I was frantically Job hunting. I went to the Career Fair in Osaka in early Feb/Late January 2020. I applied and got interviewed for a position in Sendai in early Jan 2020. In the end though - the Rona hit. We started hearing whispers of it around the end of 2019, then the cruise boats happened, and then Japan refused to cancel the Olympics...every holiday season there is a new wave of infections, my nurse friends in Tokyo are struggling....my teacher friends in more populous areas of Japan are struggling…
JET couldn't get new ALTs for 2020-2021, I took the extra year when it was eventually offered, as the one job I had managed to get a serious offer for was hesitating because with the rona setting in, things were uncertain. There was a lot of time spent adjusting to the new rules surrounding what we could do in class with the kids as well as textbook change. Schools shut on and off during the spring months. 
I also got a reminder of my mortality mid May with an unrelated illness which is still smacking me around a bit - stress/age, it does things to the human body it has no right to. It's only been in the last three months I’ve been able to exercise like I used to, I’ve put on a bunch of weight I can't shrug off (one part medication, another part diet) My relationship with food needs to change, and I really need a kitchen that allows me for more than one pan meals. I also need to figure out what to do with a left leg that is in constant pain from the knee down and a heart that misses beats when stressed out (mentally and physically…). 
My apartment also got flooded by the guy upstairs at one point, I spent most of late February/early March living in a hotel while my walls and floor got redone - I think this was one of the things that really stressed me out and kicked my anxiety right up a notch, it was right when things were getting REALLY bad with rona-chan in Hokkaido and schools were shutting down here as it was filtering into the prefecture and so Japan closed schools for the first time…
Classes in covid times have been weird. We’ve been wearing facemasks full time since the early stages of the pandemic (March 2020) - so I admit that I get a bit pissed off seeing both Americans and New Zealanders back home bitching about just having to start wearing them full time in public. I have asthma and have been suffering with the things on during the 30*C plus with high 90s humidity summers. Teachers were offered vaccines late July 2021, just days before the Olympics were open - and I finished my two shots in the middle of August. But the overall distribution and take up of the jab has been slow.  As mentioned above, we can't play a lot of the games we used to play with kids in classes anymore, and a lot of the activities outlined in the textbook curriculum need to be adjusted too, so we’ve had to be creative. We use hand sanitizer a lot more too. One of the things I miss the most though, is eating lunch with the kids.
Socially from summer 2020 - now 2021 we played a lot of DnD and board games, both online and in person when we could. There were no new ALTs again for the 2021-2022 JET year, and those of us who were in 6th year were offered a 7th. Four out of six of us took it. As a whole we’re down from a peak of 38 ALTs for Junior High and Elementary school to 22 for now. We hopefully will get a new person at the end of September, and 4 more in November. Which will bring us to 27. This has led to ANOTHER round of school shuffles.
Summer vacation has been weird the last two years. With rona-chan, we haven’t really been able to travel. All the summer festivals (all the Autumn and Winter ones too!) have been cancelled, so the changing of seasons just feels, wrong. I dunno. There is so much we all miss from pre-rona-chan, and so much that doesn’t happen that makes this just feel like one long long unending year of sadness, coldness, raininess, unbearable heat and repeat. I’m tired. Time is going so fast, but so.dang.slow.
I lost my favorite school (AGAIN GDI!!!) and gained the school I taught a semester at in 2019....I had my first day there on Wednesday. Schools actually started back on September 1st so there was some drama as the BoE didn’t communicate fast enough about our school changes. We legit got told on the 27th of August (on a Friday) our schools were changing effective September 1st, but somehow some of our schools found out on the Monday 30th August. In July we were told we would be changing schools at the end of September, so.a lot of ALTs and schools were left short changed, not having opportunities to say goodbye to co-workers or students/having their planning for the semester more or less thrown out the window too. I love my job. I really dislike the way the BoE treats us, the Japanese assistant language teachers and our schools.
The new school I have is used to having an ALT there twice a week, who plans all the lessons and executes them. I’m at three elementary schools. I'm only at each once a week, I want to plan, but being that I miss an entire lesson in between visits, it's going to be difficult to do so. Not impossible, but being that I'm already doing it for two other schools, who are at two different places in the textbook ah…….. From what I have talked to my new supervisor about though, it sounds like the teachers have taken on more of the lesson planning and I'll be able to contribute ideas when I'm there. I just want to and wish I could do more without being confused all the time. (This is all usually done in my second language too, not in English so extra levels of confusion and miscommunication abound).
 I feel like this at my JHS too a lot of the time. I want to contribute more, but even with constant communication with my main in school supervisor (who is a badass and pretty much on the same page about everything with me) I still feel about as useful as tits on a bull. Especially now that classes have been cancelled and or shortened, there's less time to do stuff. Any game or activity I plan is usually cut in favor of making up time in the textbook. When I'm in class, I'm back to being a tape recorder, the fun police and general nuisance. 
Also in the last week...my two of my schools were  shut due to students testing positive for the rona. This is the second time my schools have had a scare in the last 8 months. And by shut, I mean the students were all at home, but the teachers  all had to come into the office. Because why not I guess….. I mean,  the cases increasing is really not unexpected with the amount of people who were travelling over obon and the increase of cases due to the Olympics/Japan being slow on vaccinating/delta being the dominant strain/Japan's leaders doing relatively little except asking shops and restaurants to limit people coming in at one time and closing before 8pm. I know my schools weren't the only one shut either - but still High Schools were having their sports days this week. I kept on seeing groups of kids hanging in the park after, so that was a little bit nerve wracking.
It's just frustrating - we’ve been on half days to “minimize the risk of infection” for kids and teachers, as if only being at school from 8am through to 1pm is going to reduce the risk.  My schools have only just started testing out Microsoft teams and Zoom lesson equipment. Thankfully our school’s run in this time was contained real quick, the family was super good about informing us when they got their results back, and the fact they needed to be tested. The homeroom teacher and the students from the same class were the only ones tested, and they all came back clear, which was nice. But the information came back so SLOW. 
I’m a little irritated because I found out on Wednesday night what was going on, and even if I am vaccinated, I am super worried that I will end up being the covid monkey due to being at different schools three days out of five. I think other than being worried that I will catch it myself and get real sick, my biggest fear is that I will be protected from bad symptoms from the vaccine, but still be able to pass it onto some of my more vulnerable friends and students. The whole thing is a mess.  
Other than Covid and BoE drama, life is good. I’ve had a couple of other big changes - both fantastic and not so great, but yeah.  I have my health (and health insurance!) for now. I have a job, for now. I have a sense of existential dread for the next 12 months, but we’ll see where we end up. Life post JET is going to be way less cushy and I am TERRIFIED. I mean, I have a BA in Eng/Ling and no idea what to do with it…..because I am NOT suited for academia.
TLDR: Love my job. Don’t like the system. What is life? Future scary. 
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watanabes-cum-dump · 4 years
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Frostbite and Burn scars Chapter 2) Lone Flame
Family? Bull shit. If Kaeya believed in family, he'd still be there for Diluc. He would have stayed, he wouldn't have left Diluc alone and he wouldn't have become an alcoholic brat with a penchant for manipulative tactics and violence. If Kaeya cared about family, perhaps father would still be here, in memory at least. Perhaps their memories wouldn't be moments of fleeting past long gone, and just a few of the many things they'd do together. But no, Kaeya left, with a sick smile on his face and cryo vision in hand on that fateful day. And Diluc despised him. He hated him. 
At least, that's what Diluc told himself as he followed Kaeya, the bastard was true to his word and a few nights later he heard that Kaeya was taking a temporary leave from the knights and saw him slip through the gates under the cover of darkness. Well, two could play that game, Diluc was the city's vigilante protector. Slipping under the cover of night was his specialty. 
He didn't expect Kaeya to head to the beach, then to musk reef, walking across an ocean with ice freezing under his boots, melting just as quickly. Luckily, Diluc knew a better way to get there, albeit it was a bit dangerous. The traveler had told him of a portal on a nearby cliff that could be reached via a glider and wind current. Why it even worked he had no idea, but here he was, hiding behind some rocks while Kaeya walked onto the shore. Diluc didn't expect there to be a giant gateway in a small, shallow pool in the middle of the little island, but there was, and Kaeya seemed to be walking towards it. 
"You're rather sloppy for a vigilante" Kaeya remarked.
"Oh look he caught me" Diluc said sarcastically, coming out of hiding. "Now what the hell are you doing?" 
Kaeya didn't pay him any mind and examined the runes all over the gateway "Nothing of a young nobleman's concern. Go, run back to your tavern and your mansion, you wouldn't understand a poor bastard like myself" his tone was mocking, yet still a bit sharp. He was at least a little angry. Well at least he wasn't lying anymore.
"Kaeya" 
"I'm going home" 
Diluc scoffed "What, did you live a pitiful life here? Did you swim all the way to Mondstadt before father found you?" 
Kaeya ignored him and wiped some dust off the old gateway "This is the last time you're ever going to see me and that's all you can say?" 
He stood up straight and held up a hand in front of the gateway "Impios et deserta, fugiendum, et proiecit, aperi portas tuas ad me" he chanted.
Diluc was about to ask him just what the fuck he had said when suddenly a blue low lit up the little island, a portal opened in the gateway. "What the-?" 
"Well this is goodbye, Diluc" Kaeya said, walking up the steps of the portal. 
No. 
Some part of Diluc didn't want to see him go for whatever reason. He wanted Kaeya to stay.  
"Kaeya!" 
He had already gone through, Diluc desperately sprinted up the steps, throwing himself into the portal. 
"Kaeya!" 
Light blue eyes looked down at the little boy, a hand moving up to rub the sleep out of his eye "Mmm Diluc? What are you doing? It's long past bedtime..." 
The redhead didn't answer and hugged the taller boy, face getting smothered in a loose fitting linen shirt. Kaeya sighed as sobs racked his little brother's body, patting his back. "Did you have a nightmare again, Luc?" he asked. 
Diluc looked up and nodded, sniffing as tears fell from bug red eyes. "Come on" Diluc followed Kaeya into his room, crawling on top of the bed. 
"Do you want to talk about it?" Kaeya asked, sitting down next to him.
Diluc looked down and fiddled with the long sleeves of his shirt "I saw the bad guys that pops was talking to earlier. They were all beating you up, and those terrible things about you again! It was scary, there was blood everywhere, and they ripped out your eye-" 
Kaeya stopped the younger boy, not wanting to hear much more. What a morbid dream for a child "Diluc, it's ok" 
"No it's not!" Diluc snapped "Those guys were saying nasty stuff about you even after dad told them off! They kept calling you a bastard and a peasant! But you're none of those things and it's just wrong!"
Kaeya chuckled and patted Diluc's head "Ok, ok. It's alight. Those bad guys aren't going to come back anytime soon. Now for the love of the archons, please go to sleep Diluc" 
Diluc pouted and wiped away his tears, snuggling into the bed with Kaeya. With his hand in his big brother's, no one could hurt him, no nightmares would come. Big brother was his knight that would fight off the monsters.
"Oh goody you're awake" Diluc groaned and sat up. He felt so sick. 
"What the fuck...?" 
He hadn't had a dream since father died. Even then, they were usually just the usual nonsensical dreams everyone had.  He gritted his teeth at the memory of that night. Diluc had woken up from a nightmare and ran straight to Kaeya's room. He missed the Kaeya in that memory. That Kaeya at least had the common sense to lie to an naive child instead of shattering his entre world with a few sentences. 
"If you're wondering what happened, you decided to follow me here, proceeded to throw up, and then pass out. If anything, your current predicament is your fault" Kaeya scoffed, crossing his arms. 
"Why did I pass out though?" 
Kaeya sighed "I guess it's the strain that the portal put on you. Traveling in between different planes of existence requires for your body to change a bit. It get's better after your first time" 
"Different planes of existence?" Diluc repeated, looking up at Kaeya who was sitting on a fallen tree. They were in a normal enough place that could literally be anywhere in Mondstadt. The red head got up and brushed himself off, adjusting his gloves and making sure he still had his claymore strapped to his back. 
Kaeya got up and moved a tree branch aside, revealing the valley that was spread out before them, with what looked like a large walled off city in the distance. "Welcome to Kaenr'iah. The godless city”
.
.
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Author’s notes
For reference, Kaenr’iah (in this story anyways) is roughly the same size as Ba Sing Se from Avatar if you want a sense of scale. As for cultural inspiration, lost of stuff I’ve found has suggested Southeast Asia so I will be taking elements from more than one country as we have no information as of now.  
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cdarkheartzero · 4 years
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Today’s theme- “Too far”
I was skimming through some comments and such and came across @the-garbage-is-my-fandom ‘s comment of “more horror art” on my “Bathtime” piece. And I was inspired. I’m especially excited for @melodyofthevoid to tear into me like I do her when she abuses my son.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen” Dib chanted to himself choking on what little air his lungs could grasp. He had never known fear like this and his body just had no idea how to handle it.
Dib mind raced, playing the previous weeks in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong. His master plan, a small gas bomb capable of temporarily paralyzing or knocking his enemy out, was finally complete. Many a sleepless night and wasted weekend on containment structure, chemical analysis and test runs. This was it. Finally, he could capture the alien menace and expose him. Finally, he would no longer be the crazy kid. Finally, the world would see the danger they were in all along. Finally.... he would be the hero.
But this wasn’t supposed to happen.
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[[More]]
Dib snuck in through the front door after Zim’s idiot sidekick carelessly left it open, making haste to the neighborhood taco truck’s sirens blaring in the distance. He cautiously entered, realizing the Invader was no where in sight and gently placed the bomb in the center of the floor of the “living room”. Carefully he made his way up to the wires completely covering the ceiling for shelter. Soon enough, Gir threw the door open, Damn near ripping it off its hinges, absolutely covered in grease and meat. It seemed the taco run was a success.
He wandered over to the “box” in the middle of the floor and started screaming for his master. “MASTAAAAA!!!! A PRESENT!!!!!!” He shrieked and screeched. How did Zim deal with this all the time?
Within a moment or two, an undisguised Zim angrily emerged from the toilet in the kitchen (which was a sight Dib never really got used to. How does a WHOLE BODY fit down the small opening of a TOILET?!)
“Gir! What nonsense are you going on about!?”
“I gots a present! I’m the birthday boy!”
Zim quickly snatched the “gift” from the metallic hands, studying it’s shotty craftsmanship briefly and returning his full attention to the wide eyed robot standing before him. “What have I told you about bringing junk into this house? First that street lamp-” “But I wanted a nightlight to keep the monkey away.” Gir quietly and somberly interrupted.
Zim sighed. Was this conversation going to go anywhere? No. No, it wasn’t. He might as well talk to the jar of mayo still sitting open on the kitchen table from 3 days ago.
He bent down, clutching the box to his abdomen and give the robot a small pat on the head. “Zim told you he took care of the monkey. It can’t hurt you anymore. But please, Gir, refrain from bringing more stuff home.” He said calmly with a defeated tone in his voice. Gir’s face lit up with a wide grin spanning from “ear to ear” (had he had them anyway). “OKAAAAAY!” He screeched and wrapped his arms around his master. Dib could swear he heard something pop and squish under the groans and painful sounds Zim was emitting.
Then there was a click.
It seemed like the blink of an eye it all happened. An explosion unlike anything Dib ever thought possible by his hands unfolding around him. Windows shattered as glass slashed through the air in every which way direction. Chunks of flooring and wall violently slammed into anything unfortunate enough to come into their path. The fogged air was tainted with this disgustingly potent smell blanketing the entire room. The resulting shock wave flung Dib from his hiding spot, colliding with the cold tiles beneath him.
He blacked out for just a moment, his body on fire and his ears ringing loudly, drowning out all other sound. His eyes slowly opened and he worked up the strength to push himself to his feet. He noticed the blood on his hands as he lifted himself. He wasn’t surprised he got cut. He just couldn’t determain how bad. He was so disoriented.
He tried his best to scan the room, eyes adjusting themselves from the bright blast that had just assaulted them. A shine in the corner grabbed his attention in the sea of rubble and destruction. The robot, Gir, was crushed into the wall by large slabs of concrete and tiles. His once blue glowing eyes dim and cracked. He remained motionless.
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“Oh, no.” Dib thought, realizing the severity of his actions. “Zim!” He cried out of instinct. There was no response. There was no movement in the cloud of smoke as it slowly decepated. The clearing air revealed Zim’s limp frame sprawled out within the neon-green splattered crater the explosion created by the front door. A gigantic hole displayed the vacant interior of his chest and abdominal cavity. Every bit of his internal organs were laid on the ground. His ruby eyes open and dull with his face resting almost peaceful. Dib’s stomach dropped.
THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.
Panic was setting in. He wanted to get close to the alien but it’s like his legs forbid such an action. So he goggled. “WHAT DO I DO?!” He blurted out to no one. He backed into the kitchen, never taking his eyes off the crater of debris and guts. His breathing jagged, his pulse racing and his throat overflowing, begging to release its contents on the oddly colored tiling. He felt sick.
“INITIATING SURVIVAL MODE”
He jumped. A sudden noise in this deafening silence. It was a voice he instantly recognized. Zim’s Computer. But it wasn’t echoing from the darkness of the house... it was coming from Zim.
The once limp body slowly started to adjust itself, trying to sit itself up. The more it moved, the more it’s contents leaked out of the organic frame. Dib just silently stared in awe....in relief.... in disgust as his fallen rival stood up. Swaying slightly as it tried to regain its balance. Their eyes locked. A shutter violently shook Dib. Zim was a lot of things. A pain in the ass. An idiot. Selfish. A narcissist. Incompetent. But this wasn’t Zim. This.... was TERRIFYING.
The creature’s thousand yard stare prickled Dib’s skin with the feeling of a million bugs crawling on his person. The paranormal investigator watched-even from several feet away- the speedy throbbing of the veins protruding around It’s eyes. The alien opened his mouth to speak and all that came out through the river of brightly colored blood was the sound of static. It was painful. SO PAINFUL to hear. Dib wanted to shield his ears from the sound but his body stood there still.
The creature’s attention tore away from Dib for a moment, eyeing the damaged robot. His PAK opened up, aggressively flinging his long, thin, robotic legs outwards. The legs came down one by one, echoing a small “clink” on the floor as the razor sharp ends touched the tile. His body lifted and made his way to the faithful metallic companion. Without saying a word, Dib watched as Zim’s body pried the heavy debris pinning the small robot. Gir’s body was released and the gloved hands gently caught him before he could fall on the floor.
THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN
“Zim.... I swear.... I didn’t mean to...-“
He was caught off when the red eyes turned to his direction again. Even without pupils or Iris’, Dib could feel the daggers being thrown at him. The mouth opened to speak. “Gir.... why?”
Dib backed up one more step, further into the kitchen. Zim’s voice.... it was wrong. Metallic. Cold. Disoriented. Unlike anything he had ever heard before. Words caught in Dib’s throat but he mustered all his strength to release them. “It was an accident. It-it was just supposed to knock you out.” Dib continued to ramble. “I don’t know what happened!”
“Miserable”
Dib tensed up “W-what is?”
“Your existence brings misery. To your planet. To your family. To anyone unfortunate enough to come into contact with you.”
Those words cut Dib’s soul deep. It’s like Zim could read his worst fears. Something he kept hidden- that black stain in his heart-all this time. Exposed. Just like that.
Before he could say anything, the alien continued “ You have always been an annoyance, you sickening human. We cannot escape you. Your voice. Your presence. Your smell. Forever a thorn in our side. The reason my tallest find me nothing more than entertainment. Why Zim can never succeed in his goals. Now this....the only good Zim had...” he said staring at Gir’s face.
“What is he talking about? What did I do with his leaders?” Dib pondered, eyes frantically shifting between Zim’s body and the door behind him.
His neck snapped in Dib’s direction. “But that’s not the worst part. Zim always heard it. For years. It was always following me.” The legs carried him one step closer to the kitchen. Dib silently took a step backwards. “There. Annoying me. Attacking his senses. A constant reminder of the misery you cause. Zim will rid himself of this....this sound...”
Dib needed to flee. But how? This creature was in front of the door!
Zim’s lips curled up. His smirk growing, stretching wider and wider, tearing the ends of his mouth apart. Blood leaking down the sides of his face as the smile grew to sizes ever more disturbing. It was like he was trying to separate the top and bottom of head. There was a silence. With a grin unseen by human eyes before, The creature chucked.
“OnCe I sILeNcE tHaT hEaRt Of YoUrS, wiLl ZiM FiNaLLy bE FrEe?
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As the creature leapt towards the investigator, his body (FINALLY) responded by quickly dodging out of the way, slamming into the sink. The thin, metallic legs crashed into the dining room table decimating it instantly. Without so much as a thought, Dib crawled into the trash can and landed into the claustrophobic elevator to the lab. He panted and shook. It was a terrible idea to go down to the labs. A territory not his. He was out of his element and he wasn’t sure how he would escape. But it beat staying up there and getting ripped to shreds. The pink glow of the elevator made him even more on edge.
The doors opened, startling Dib who was frantically lost in thought. He ran from the elevator, peeking behind tables, tubes and anything else while keeping his senses sharp and alert. Zim was somewhere. Maybe he could just take the elevator back up and leave? But what if he was still in the kitchen?
There was a high-pitched screech pouring from the shaft he had just exited. The elevator lights flickered, sparks raining down and the glow of Zim’s upside down eyes peeked through its opening. His legs slowly pulled him out, adjusting he and Gir (whom was still being cradled) upright. “Diiiiiiiiib.... I kNoW YoU aRe In HeRe....” it gargled.
Dib patiently waited, holding back his sobs and screams, for the towering monster to pass. He needed to keep running. Find the elevator to the toilet! It was the only way! He hid. And ran. Hid. And ran. It was the most horrifying game of cat and mouse conceivable. The longer it went on, the worse it seemed to get for him. He couldn’t find the exit. And he couldn’t find Zim. Not that he WANTED to find him, but at least pass him to know he was still in this metallic labyrinth. That the kitchen was clear.
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Finally, he stumbled upon what he assumed was the elevator on the other side of a large room. He was so close-! Within a single second, his joy faded to nothingness by the familiar sound of scraping. He watched the shadow on the floor as it shakily passed by the table Dib had temporarily chosen as shelter. It stopped and stood still like a statue momentarily: Then went about it’s way. “Finally-! To that door!”
He sprinted to the exit, knocking a few items from a table and catching the beast’s attention. Running with all the strength his body had to offer, he was finally within reach of the button left of the doorframe. His fist slammed into it and the sounds of the creature hurried closer, bellowing his name in a mortifying shriek.
The double doors opened. Dib threw his body into the room only to hit into something and get pelted with tools and cans tumbling from above. Realization slapped him in the face. This isn’t an elevator....
This is a closet.
With heavy dread, Dib turned his face to see that he and the creature were mere inches away from each other. There was no where to go. Never taking his eye’s off Zim’s, he felt two sharp knives glide over his ribcage, gently banging on each bone as they made their way to their target. It’s face had a permanent smile, gradually becoming more and more uncontrollable the harder and faster the thrashing in Dib’s chest became. As the blades slowly began digging in and red blood mixed with green, 5 words continuously haunted his thoughts.
THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN
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Thanks so much to anyone that read this! I hope you enjoyed!
196 notes · View notes
mantrabay · 3 years
Text
Saturday an overarching day that's both conduit and shelter for souls in transition.
Thoughts of the more disturbing kind and their covert operations intrude even in our leisure time.
Little did I know what lay ahead.
All these scenarios flashed across my mind as the wheels of my car screeched to a halt.
Shafts of radiant sunlight revealed an embroidered placard.
A cryptic but apocryphal question -
Going somewhere?
Light green brush strokes and entwined leaves garnished the borders of this plaque.
A hitchhiker appeared with the most expressive eyes.
Like shining windows openly admitting the rush of a golden dawn.
A rippling nuanced voice spoke.
“Hello, I'm Lelia. Life is a series of stops
and strange encounters.
A journey of some kind.”
Thought-provoking stuff!
She extended her supple skin right hand.
“Hop in.
I'm Joshua King. Going anywhere in particular?"
I enquired archly after the ritual handshake.
"Besides going somewhere or nowhere in particular.”
I continued.
"In one sense I'm not sure. But there is this place we should all go to.
You'll know what I mean later.”
Lelia mysteriously.
"Not to worry.
Travel is therapy for me."
What made me, Joshua King , say that?
The mind can be overpopulated with figments.
Frustrated figments waiting for that freedom dash.
Some have the seeds of alternative visions.
A svelte lady wearing an azure blue padded jacket and sea blue denims glided gracefully into my car.
Hatha yoga asana entry.
My pinstripe attire seemed conventional.
It was at odds with this philosophical journey man.
"Love the aroma ....air freshener.
Orchard in a vehicle tantalising nostrils.
Symbol of attempted purge."
Her voice dropped a few keys to a lower register.
Redolent of metaphysics classes I had to abandon.
I was naive enough to believe that attending these courses would fix my “issues.”
They were more than just momentary bugs.
They couldn't be spray canned away.
I was, however, adept at avoiding their resolution.
Draft dodger or fugitive adept.
My “issues” were other "selves.”
I called them timid, anxious, fidgety,scrupulous withdrawn.
“What’s more I chat to them.
Under my breath. These chats I call the "whispers.”
Will Lelia notice?
Will she spot them?"
My twin brother Jonah, a twin in every sense could point out my tendency to flee.
We spot each other’s flaws with aplomb.
The twinning of tortured psyches.
Banter between mirror images of real selves!
Jonah was an integral part of these "whispers" too!
All these thoughts were doing hula hoops in my head as Lelia made herself comfortable.
In the process peculiarities surfaced which seemed more than the usual passing quirks.
"I'm Lelia, again. Don't forget. You probably won't.
This place I alluded to is but a distance from here.
Distance is a gulf whose magnitude is shaped by it's smoothness of passage.
Or the fate that awaits one at journey’s end.
My destination is another world altogether."
A lady who could structure her sentences with the adroitness of a cryptic crossword clue setter.
Tapping me on the shoulder at the most obscure angle she extended her hand again.
Her fingers and thumb spatially arranged with the tutored
stillness of a TM Guru.
Was that repetition a neurotic oddity or a symptom of a deeper malaise?
I nodded to the said hand gesture.
We both brushed this bizarre incident off as it had no instant moment.
It seemed as if I was talking to someone quite out of the ordinary.
The spot on asides and the strict avoidance of that verbal litter referred to as small talk suggested as much.
Pauses. They did surface periodically.
The silence was then punctuated by a sudden remark.
"All those conifers. Look at how they reach out to the sky.”
This was just the start of one of Lelia’s poetic observations.
“They seem so close yet isolated.
There is something almost within their grasp.
Almost.”
Lelia nonplussed.
“See the adjoining fields. The green is but a cover. They are as neighbours in a high rise flat.
One could say they are both connected and disconnected at the same time.
As for those dips in the valleys? Well, they could signify some sort of rise and fall."
Lelia resting her case momentarily.
“A resurrection. After the fall.
Oh the Lazarus within us all."
Joshua deadpanned.
“I'm a bit of a writer and maths researcher.”
I proffered.
"Recluses some say.
Oh, I didn't mean you
Necessarily.”
Ouch, said my shattered Id.
Lelia, archer of the scar inflicting verbal.
Bow and arrow baroness of stinging broadsides.
This offshoot to our conversation was infused with a wry allusion.
Insight on a whim. Fleeting.
We both laughed at the incongruity of a conversation that had become very elliptical in form.
Tangents cropped up as impetus to the other person's willingness to reveal themselves.
Lelia didn't exactly volunteer her vocation but left clues.
“You didn't say what you did?
Student ...essayist ...author."
Me sounding Lelia out.
“Oh no children….dashing right across the road in front of us.
Squealing with delight. Whoops of innocent joy? They are sticking out their tongues now!”
Hair-raising moment I hadn't anticipated.
I spied Lelia sticking her tongue out at those reckless varmints.
She stopped the minute I noticed.
“Children …….sometimes you have to act like a kid when dealing with kids."
Straight and to the point from this hitchhiker.
She now resumed the thread of an earlier topic.
“Work ….you asked about work.
I sort of work and play with the mind.
Play act too.”
A retort of sudoku like complexity.
As I digested lelia’s response it dawned on me how much like people my "selves”were.
Even when driving I "dialogued” those various aspects.
“You've an interesting face. The face is like a map, I say.
Heard you mutter about your "selves."
Leslie being cheeky..
Silence as challenge started to creep in.
Russian roulette within the rules.
“Watch your driving, there." Lelia in a more down to earth tone.
Her different voices now somersaulting..
“Very quite aren't we, Josh?"
Josh mark you!
Sounding me out like an interrogator trying to crack a stubborn suspect.
Without a word of warning Lelia raised her voice and got into a tantrum.
“What's the matter ….lost something ?”
Joshua said anxiously.
A curious search resembling a scrum ensued.
Then more silence..
I craned my neck and spotted an uncanny regression.
Lelia talking to herself in a child like manner and then changing tack..
“Don't worry. Found what I was looking for.”
Another void.
A tense lull. A little lockjaw appears when the juice runs out of discourse.
I squinted in the mirror once more.
This time Lelia was talking to her palm..
Staring vacantly at it she kept repeating the name Linda.
Lelia continued oblivious to what I saw or might be thinking.
She hummed this strange lullaby..
Suddenly my "selves" surfaced in an uncontrollable flurry.
I tried to suppress them but failed abysmally.
The "whispers and selves" started to have a life of their own.
This car is getting a bit crowded.
It's being converted into a train with fantasy passengers on board.
The sort one hears late at night hurtling through the countryside with dim lights flickering.
Both inside and outside this vehicle a tumult of events was taking place.
Out of the blue the rain poured heavily.
“The gods or the elements must be cross or something.” Lelia opined.
“Let’s get introduced to my playmate in a palm.
Linda, these are Joshua’s true other selves.”
Lelia chuckling.
A comic situation arose where I changed my voice for each of my "selves" by way of introduction.
My great powers of concentration helped while driving.
"Pleased to meet you, Linda.”
Lelia altered her voice when teasing all my "selves."
She had some experience as a ventriloquist.
But Lelia was having this hypnotic effect too.
I was being manipulated.
One by one my highly personalised complexes were being extracted and subject to a rigorous grilling.
This was some hitchhiker.
Was this car journey now becoming a high rent farce or a mock therapy session from an amateur shrink?
The rain continued to lash and my other "selves" felt like the last sting of a dying wasp.
A certain lightness ensued.
Almost as if my “aspects” were floating away.
For the first time my "other selves“ didn't seem to have this grip on me.
But deep down I knew I wanted to keep a little of them.
Although they were a burden they did have their positive aspects.
“Jonah … he still bugs doesn't he.
He’s almost like one of those "other selves!"
The "whispers" I heard earlier … I've a very delicate ear.
Those under the breath "whispers" gave the game away.
The names and complex relations between them."
Lelia now probing very deeply.
The wind howled and the rain splashed across the bonnet like seafront waves.
There was a warped synchronicity..
As my complexes receded so did the thunderous weather.
They were working in tandem.
“Wash it all away. Come on, come on
See me waving my wand.”
Lelia chanted.
The Exorcist film had nothing on this.
Before his very eyes Joshua's "reticence" and the other "selves" were disappearing virtually.
Against the backdrop of all this inner and outer ferment Lelia kept looking out the window.
Was that this home she mentioned earlier getting closer as Joshua was
"going home” to himself?
“Windows are amazing.
They show us the world but sometimes screen us from it.”
Lelia wiping
fog from the car window.
“Trees and branches swaying. Clouds darkening.
Thickening ominously.
Exodus of pedestrians seeking answers.”
Her voice penetrating Joshua.
“Am I being cleansed of what they call inner demons?"
Joshua panic stricken.
"This other worldly person has me spellbound.
There's a chessboard in this moving vehicle.
A total stranger has me in her palm.” .
Lelia assumed various postures.
As Joshua was the driver she didn't want to send him to sleep.
Lelia's voice was either a hypnotist's drone or excited sports commentator.
Joshua could never forget this encounter.
“Don't forget Jonah too. Joshua wherever he might be.”
Her sinister tone rising.
“The name on your credit card.
I found it earlier when searching for my script.
Joshua Jonah king.”
Joshua confessed he was an only child.
“Am I a prisoner?.
Must button my lip.
I'm being freed and incarcerated by this person, the likes of whom I've never met before.”
Joshua felt this final therapeutic process coursing through him.
Very little was left of his "selves", “whispers.”
Joshua drove through a stoically preserved area whose haunting nature was blurred by this encounter.
“Terrible to have all these half worlds revealed with such clinical accuracy.”
Joshua to himself.
Lelia's voice gradually lost its domineering tone.
At this point by accident or design the tense atmosphere eased.
“You are probably wondering where this is all going to end.
Maybe I have whispers, Jonah's and selves to face too.”
A casual Lelia random comment.
On this occasion a composite of adult confidence and infantile charm.
“Oh here we are, this place.
She stated.
Joshua had undergone a sea change catharsis due to the “selves” and “whispers” being evacuated.
“Should I thank this lady or what? I’ll never be the same again but is that for the right reason?
Jonah my make-believe twin. Don't really need him do I?”
Joshua pondered.
“Back to earth my dear.
This is where we shake hands and part.”
Lelia again.
“Better change the name on that credit card.
Keeping stuff like that from credit card companies could land you in trouble.’
A cackle from Lelia this time.
“See that building. That's what I meant early on.
It's called Another World School of Acting.”
Lelia alighted and pointed to this centre.
"Acting is therapy. That's their motto.
Therapy in every sense!
But you don't want to take every word I say literally do you?
Forgot to mention they are auditioning for a play.
It's called “Inside The Split Mind." She said.
"Wonder will I get the part?”
As she leant over to shake hands her eyes had a certain lost look about them.
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28ivana28 · 4 years
Text
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Frat boy Harry Styles one shot 
Word count: 6003
Summary: Harry the star football player always gets on y/n’s nerves but this night its quite different when they find them selves alone at a party consumed with alcohol and lust. 
Let me know what you think. I really enjoyed writing this so let me know if you would like a part 2. 
WHY DONT YOU?
Another college party, yes. But first, a game of football. This is the typical routine for all us college kids, the intense and exciting (for some) football game, then the chaotic and wild after parties, almost always hosted at the frat houses. You used to love these nights and look forward to the thrilling games until you broke up with your boyfriend, one of the team players, one of the best players as well. Now that you’ve broken up with your ex boyfriend Gabriel you dread the weekly games, especially since your best friends adored the footy boys. Some of them were fine and their bodies were sure as hell fit but seeing Gabriel every weekend was a drainer. 
Being in a sorority yourself, you do love to party, who doesn’t? But tonight you were in no mood for this weekends events. Having a full week of exams and a pestering ex has done you enough. Although you should want to let off some steam and get hammered, you truly just want to sleep. But of course, your two best friends Delilah and Lola have bugged you enough to finally force you to give in.
So here you are, sitting in the stands, surrounded by practically the whole mass of the college students, listening to screams, yells, chants, conversations and the stupid pom poms of the cheerleaders. Sure you could at least pretend to be enjoying yourself, but you’re not... so you wont. 
“Come on y/n, stop being a Debby downer” Lola speaks, interrupting your thoughts. You can’t even be bothered moving your mouth to speak or make any noice, so you give her a fake smile and shake your hands in pure and utter fake excitement about the goal the hunk of a football player just scored, that is, Harry Styles. Harry is a different species, carved by the Greek Gods themselves, piercing emerald green eyes, luscious curly locks that frame his face like no other, perfectly toned and built body that is not too muscley nor too skinny, the perfect smile as well as smirk, the tattoos that scatter his body just add the tinge of danger to his persona and of course, he is British. 
Although he is a spunk and arguably the best player on the team. His personality is a whole different story. Sure the kids done nothing wrong to you, but oh my gosh he knows how to annoy you. Ever since day dot Harry has had this thing with you where he likes to annoy you till you snap, and to be fair, you don’t take long to snap. It was never mean or harmful, always innocent banter. He had always been funny, goofy, cheeky and oh so sexy, but to you ... you just cannot stand him. 
On the other hand, your beloved friends and sorority sisters as well as every other girl in the whole of the College seems to froff him. And that is not overexaggerating. Harry is known to be a devil in the sheets and he sure has proven himself through many of the girls, especially the cheerleaders. Sure Harry likes to annoy you, but you never understood why, why you? And all the other girls never understood why you either. He didn’t seem to take an interest in pestering the rest of the female population here, he seemed to have singled out you. Oh and it was even worse when you were dating Gabriel, probably worse for Gabriel as he could never stand Harry. Not out of annoyance but more out of jealousy. Gabriel hates to admit that Harry is a better football player as well as the fact that Harry would pester his own girlfriend... and Gabriel could never do anything about it, well because, Harry is Harry... and Harry gets away with everything. Don’t ask why, because no one knows. 
The loud cheers and piercing buzzer noise alerts you from your thought and you realise the games over and your team won, not by a lot but that only means the party will hit harder because it was such an intense game, that you wouldn’t really know about since you payed no attention to it. 
Standing from your seat and brushing your jeans, you pick up your bag and get ready to scurry through the crowd to go home and get ready for the party you’re still dreading. Wanting to leave as quickly as you can to avoid Gabriel at all costs, you’re stopped in your tracks by, oh what a surprise.. Harry. 
“Hello girls” Harry smiles to us girls with his thick accent and muffles of “congrats on the game” and “Hi Harry” are spoken to him which he totally ignores. 
“Y/n, what a lovely surprise” Harry smirks leaning his arm on the wall besides you, blocking you from walking knowing that it is not a surprise that you are here since everyone is. Lola nudges you with an innocent grin on her face, but you’re pretty sure her thoughts are not innocent.
You scoff playfully but still quite agitated as you do want to leave asap. “Hi Harry, lovely to see you to” you give him a sarcastic smile along with a head tilt and then continue to walk through his blocking presence. “Are you coming to the party tonight love?” He questions you like he did every game. You don’t even know why he asks, to annoy you at the parties as well? yes, thats it. You stick your finger up as you keep walking forward, you can’t see him but you hear a chuckle. It’s like he gets off to you getting agitated. 
This was your weekly routine, he’d ask you if you were going to attend the party, and you’d flip him off. Some consider it flirting in a weird way, others banter, you just see it as Harry Styles. “She sure is coming” Delilah practically yells to Harry as we continue walking. 
The girls think Harry and you are bound to fall in love, and that through the hard time he gives you and the emotionless responses you give back, that you are actually quite fond of each other. Ridiculous you think to yourself. “Mmm she always does” he yells back and without even turning around, you know his dazzling smile is spread far across his face, some sort of accomplishment he thinks. 
__
It’s now quite some time since the game and the girls and you are on your way to the Kappa house, the home of your beloved ex and majority of the football boys. Although all of them are cocky bastards, you must admit they do throw a mean party. 
You all walked from your sorority to theirs as the distance is quite short and you were all planning on getting quite smashed, especially you. May as well right? You brush off your tight strapless body con black dress that you changed into which hugs your body pretty damn nicely before entering the gates of the house. You can hear the bass and music erupting the house. Already people are scattered on the lawn out front and red party cups spilling out of the house. The party is already started you gathered. 
Entering the house, a few cheers and yells from the boys abrupt your ears as obviously a bunch of sorority girls walked through, boys being boys. You greet a few people, not really wanting to spend too much time talking, more so drinking. You speak to a few players who you genuinely like and congratulate them on their win tonight. You’ve always been one to get a long with boys especially the football boys (Gabriel especially wasn’t fond when majority of the boys preferred you over him), and you probably got a long with boys better then girls but you are lucky to have Delilah and Lola your two main girls that perfectly understand who you are and your moody personality. Speaking of them two, they both have already disappeared, probably getting it on with the footy boys. 
You walk towards the kitchen to pour yourself a drink as you feel a large hand tap your shoulder, you turn around to be greeted with your favourite player, one that you adore like a brother. “Niall!” you hug him almost instantly since he is always one to make you smile, even on the worst of days possible. 
“Y/n, how are you cutie, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever you nerd” he laughs helping you mix your drink as you honestly had no idea what you were  making. “Oh relax” you laugh “I was only studying for a week, some people need to work for their grades, daddy can’t buy us everything” you joke, since Niall’s dad practically owns the college. 
Niall gives you a bitter laugh “Ha ha ha, you think you’re so funny don’t you doll” he teases and you laugh until you realise what he’s doing and he’s pouring way too much vodka into your cup. “Oh my god Niall! Stop!”, he laughs “thats what you get smart arse, now cmon drink up and get partying, you definitely need it.” “whats that supposed to mean?” you pretend to get offended sipping your drink and making a face of disgust as the drink is so strong. 
Niall laughs and you feel a warm hand slide against your lower back and your head instantly turns to the right. Harry Styles. He’s looking fucking hot tonight though, you must give it to him. Standing there all sly in his tight black skinny jeans and plain white tee, something so simple but looks so damn good. 
He looks down at you smirking “You’re going to kill her Nialler with all that vodka” Harry states but your quick to refuse “excuse me but I can handle my liquor, thank you very much ” you exclaim. 
Niall laughs at your stern response. “Oh really” Harry raises his eyebrow looking at you who is beaming with confidence. 
You nod in response, “Well then sweetheart, go on, skull it if you can handle your liquor so well” Harry pushes. Your eyes go wide and Niall throws his head back into laughter. That damn Irish kid. “She doesn’t have enough pride to skull that filthy drink” Niall laughs and you give him a stern look. You don’t want to back down because it is Harry who has challenged you, but god dammit this drink is strong. 
You look back to Harry who’s grinning, almost positive that you wont accept his ridiculous request. You bring the brim of the cup to your lips. Oh why are you doing this you think, and you begin to skull. 
You scrunch your eyes at the strong distaste of the vodka and raspberry soda, majority just vodka. You hear a few cheers around you as you tilt your head back taking in all of the liquid. You throw the cup and look at Harry who’s mouth open in shock but he quickly covers his expression with his classic smirk and lust in his piercing emerald green eyes. And Niall’s standing there as well, face in full shock of what you just did. 
“I cant believe it y/n, that was a whole lotta of vodka” Niall says still in shock then pats your back slowly turning around to talk to someone who caught his attention, leaving you with Harry. 
“Good job pretty, I really didn’t expect that” he grins leaning his arm down on the kitchen table. You laugh walking towards the island bench to get yourself another red cup.
“Ay calm down there pretty” Harry protest trying to take the cup down from you. You giggle in response, already feeling the alcohol going straight to your head, god you should’ve eaten before the party you mentally curse to yourself. 
“mm’fine Harry, I told you I can handle my liquor” you protest already starting to slur your words the tiniest bit, one of your worst habits of drunk y/n. 
“mm’alright love, if you insist” he smirks. You continue pouring another drink with probably too much vodka than you’d normally put and Harry stands there in his leaning stance, watching. Admiring you? teasing you? mocking you? you don’t know and to be honest you don’t care either, you’ve established that you just want to let loose tonight. 
To your surprise you realise that Harry hasn’t been pestering you like he normally does which causes you to look up to see what he is actually doing. As you look up you catch his gaze staring into your actions with a small smirk planted on his lips whilst he sits on the kitchen counter. 
“Whatcha lookin at?” you act sassy with a hand on your hip, Harry laughs at your actions which he  considers adorable but could never say that out loud. “Witnessing you getting absolutely piss drunk, love” he smiles and you watch his eyes as they look like innocent puppy eyes, drawing you in. What the fuck are you thinking... this is Harry you’re talking about, is the vodka really hitting you that hard already? 
You laugh an unimpressed laugh, “well, since I am getting so piss drunk” you state grabbing another red cup to make another concoction of alcohol, for Harry this time, “you have to drink too” you suggest looking up to him raising an eyebrow. 
Harry raises his eyebrows which follows with his smirk growing wider, “are you trynna get m’drunk?” Harry laughs obviously teasing you.
“I guess I am” you state grinning, “If I’m gonna get piss drunk, I need the most famous party boy to teach me how it’s done” you grin handing Harry his drink, amused at the drink you’ve mixed containing far more rum than coke. 
Harry sniffs the cup and nose and eyes scrunch in distaste whilst you giggle at this reaction “Your trynna poison me love!” Harry exaggerates.
“mm’not” you protest as you grab your cup “skull with me” you hype him up and sit up on the kitchen counter with him and usher him with your hands pushing the drink towards his mouth. He laughs at your adorable slightly intoxicated attempt to get him to skull. 
In the count of 3 you’re both skulling the liquids and scrunching your faces in disgust, not using any chasers though because both of you refuse to look like a ‘bitch’ in front of each other, merely because of the shit you will give each other.  
You both laugh and you jump off the island bench grabbing his arm and dragging him into the living room where the majority of the students be, dancing, grinding, making out and all the rest. 
The DJ is set up on a platform you’re assuming and you drag Harry into the centre of the living room already starting to move your hips to the loud music the DJ’s mixing. Harry laughs at your drunken state that has escalated quite quickly from the beginning of the night. He’s quite shocked to be honest, this is is probably the nicest you’ve ever been to him, and he doesn’t really know how to act. 
“Cmon Harry, dance!” you shout to him over the music. You throw your head down, raise your arms and move your hips in perfect timing to the music booming against everyones ears. Harry has never seen this care free and loose side of you, and to be honest. He loves it. 
He laughs at your attempts to get him to dance until someone spins you around so that you are not facing Harry anymore, but your backside is. 
Harry looks to who must’ve spun you and notices it was Gabriel, your ex. You didn’t realise who it was because of the dim lights and your blurry vision but you’re loving this attention, so you carry on dancing. 
Gabriel places his hands on your hips to pull you in closer to him to fill the unnecessary space between you two, but before he could even move you an inch closer to him you feel your body being pulled in the opposite direction. 
He doesn’t know why, but Harry felt a pang of jealousy seeing you for not even a minute dancing with someone else. He knows the pain and trouble Gabriel caused you. To be honest Harry never thought Gab deserved you from the beginning, definitely punching above his weight. He thought Gab was even more of an idiot to have cheated on you and he would never say it but so many times when Harry saw you hurt, just wanted to give you a hug. 
So Harry followed his first thought and pulled you back to him, your backside pressed evidently on his front. Harrys eyes were dark and pierced straight into Gabs. 
“The fuck Harry” Gabriel spits, eyes turning darker and confidence growing as he’s quite drunk himself. Confidence is not something present in Gab normally when around Harry, but tonight was obviously a different story.
Your eyes shot up immediately recognising Gabs voice and your eyes widen realising who you were just dancing with. 
“Oh my god” you speak just above a whisper. 
“What?” Harry tests Gab, in shock of the way Gabriel had spoken to Harry, which in a matter of fact was not in a way anybody spoke to Harry. Another reason why Harry was so fond of you, you were ballsy and a challenge, Harry loved the fierceness and attitude you had, you weren’t a bitch with no character, you were feisty with one hell of a personality that Harry always wanted to get to know. Although he was also never admit that. Geez what would Harry admit. 
“You heard me. Why the fuck you pulling my girl away from me” Gabriel continues, idiot you think to yourself. You go to protest as you would normally, always standing up for yourself, no one talks down to you and you make sure of that. Before you can protest though, Harry stands in front of you getting a little bit too close to Gabriel, and you hate to admit that it is turning you on. God you hope it’s just the alcohol doing this. 
“Last time I checked buddy, she’s not your girl” Harry speaks slowly continuing to get up in Gabs face as you watch from behind. “And mm’pretty sure she wants nothing to do with you” Harry finishes. 
“The fuck would you know about what she wants” Gab spits back to Harry.
Harry raises his eyebrows, “lets ask her then” he says through gritted teeth. “Love, do you want this goose here” he says looking back at you, his eyes dark and dim. You look between Harry and Gab who is also staring at you with dark eyes, not as sexy as Harrys though. He’s probably confused as fuck wondering when you and Harry got so close, even though you guys haven’t. 
To be honest, you never liked people talking for you or thinking they have more power than you. And if it had been any other day you would have probably been infuriated at Harrys actions and him ‘taking charge’ but for some reason you were so damn turned on. It was unlike you to get nervous especially from Harry, but god dammit you couldn’t even get the words out of your mouth. 
You shake your head no with eyes staring up at Harry like a puppy dog waiting for a treat. Why were you so goddamn nervous. 
Harry takes your shaking no as his answer and looks back to Gabriel who looks confused, pissed off, sad and god knows what else. Fuck him though, he’s the one that cheated on you. “You got your answer buddy, now sod off” Harry states firmly before turning around grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the hallway.
He seems pissed off, actually you know his pissed off. His muscles are all tense and he’s walking at a fast pace. to be honest you don’t know why he’s gotten so worked up over this situation. 
“Harry relax” You speak slowly trying to focus on real life and sober up a little bit, even though it’s not working. 
He turns to face you as you guys stop in an empty hallway. Although it’s empty, it’s still being consumed by the sound of the bass erupting the house. His eyes shot at you and the darkness seems to slowly fade as his eyes soften seeing that you are not at all worked up or slightly angry by Gabriels presence, its just a presence you’ve learned to ignore. 
“Mm’sorry, i don’t know what got into me” Harry speaks eyes darting towards the floor, he seems embarrassed but his confidence is still there as his eyes regain attention with yours and he stares into them deeply. His eyes turn from soft back to dark, lustful and a forest green. 
You give him a half smile still not being able to control your own self in the state you’re in. 
“You know he’s a dick ye?” Harry asks. “Yeah” you respond sort of already over this conversation of Gab even though it has just started. 
“You’re not planning on going back to him are you? because I’ve heard he’s been trying to get back with you. I’m not like stalking you uhh like the boys have been talking and ...” Harry rambles. “I know Harry, and I’m not getting back with him” you cut him off.
“Good.” Harry’s grin resurfaces, why did you sort of miss it though is that you’re asking yourself. “You were too pretty for him anyways” He smirks pulling you closer with his hand on your lower back that you never realised was even there. 
This feeling of intense lust and sexual tension you’ve been feeling throughout the whole night from Harry, a feeling you feel like you have never felt before finally pushed you to do it. You kissed him. You plant your lips on his and first it’s like a shock, a shock of electricity. Harry being unsure of what had just happened and you slightly panicking at your actions. After a second you both release all your nervousness and the kiss deepens. Harry presses his tongue against your mouth signalling for entry and you allow it. He deepens the kiss and runs his fingers up your back against your spine all the way through to the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your long hair. His other hand remains on your lower back, his hand lingers there wondering whether or not it should go lower. As your tongues press against each other and the pace of your heavy making out increases, your hands raise to the top of his chest for support as he pushes you up against the wall in the empty hallway. Theres a hitch in your breath as your back abruptly reaches the wall, what seems like such a harsh action came out so soft and gentle by Harry. Your hand continues to follow through the back of his hair through his locks that are, you can now confirm, as soft as they look. 
Harry breaks his heart shapes lips from yours and your eyes pierce into each other. He grabs your hand without any words and leads you up the staircase to the hallway of frat boy rooms. 
Harry guides you to the end of the hall where the largest room is, of course it’s his you think, but you already knew that since Gabriels room was 3 doors down.
He opens his room which was different to what you expected. From what you could see in the dim lights, the room was kept tidy and was full of dark grey and black shades, quite minimal and simplistic. He had a large king size bed in the middle of his room with a desk placed along the wall.  He also had a tv hanging on the wall as well as other unnecessary stuff but what you did notice was a guitar. guitar you thought, didn’t expect that one.
You’re taken out of your thoughts as Harry turns back to face you and you look up at him with puppy eyes again, why are you doing this omg you think to yourself. Since when have you ever looked innocent or pleading to someone. 
“Don’t look at me like that pet” Harry groans without breaking eye contact.
“Why?” You speak in a voice a bit louder than a whisper. You are definitely not coming across as strong and independent as you’d like to, and you heavily blame the alcohol for it... okay and maybe a bit of Harry. You got to admit he’s making you feel nervous. And you never feel nervous. 
“Because it makes it hard for me not to fuck you” Harry says looking straight at you whilst his eye turn deeper and even more lustful. 
“Then why don’t you?” this time you speak with more confidence, and in quite an alluring tone Harry picks up on. 
This was enough said for Harry’s eyes to roll to the back of his head and a groan to escape his lips. Almost immediately he pushes you up against his bedroom door connecting his lips to yours and his hand gliding against your thigh slowly reaching his hand to massage over your centre. 
You lift your legs to wrap them around his back, him holding you up against the door as you frantically remove his t shirt and your kiss deepens, both your tongues tasting each other. 
You deepen the kiss and lightly bite his lower lip causing a soft moan to escape from Harrys mouth, vibrating your own. You immediately feel shivers through your body and your core throbbing at the man right in front of you. 
Harry continues to rub you through your panties and the warmth of your body grows at his touch on you. His mouth moves from yours to your neck planting kisses from your jaw all the way down to your collarbone. 
Harry takes this opportunity of you wrapped around him to carry you to his bed where he lays you down lifting your dress slightly and using his teeth to pull down your panties as he goes on his knees. 
Harry begins to work between your legs, delicately working around your throbbing core as he glances every so quickly smirking at your state of pleasure. Confident with his actions, Harry tongue moves quicker against your tongue circling your sensitive spot causing sensational shivers running through your body. 
“I forgot to mention that you look stunning tonight y/n” Harry speaks head between your legs. You push his head back down signalling him to shut up, hands ruffled in his locks wanting him to continue. now is not the time for compliments you thought to yourself just as Harry smiles against you. 
Legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thighs, Harry continues to work wonders on you and just as you can almost feel the satisfaction he stops. 
You groan in frustration and Harry smirks, his ego expanding with every minute of this encounter. 
“Baby you taste so good” he speaks amused. You roll your eyes and unbuckle his pants signalling for him to shut up, again. He lightly chuckles as he helps you take off his jeans and he then slowly takes your tight dress off your body. Harry stares at you for what feels like a long minute as he takes in your appearance and his eyes glisten in lust. Harry puts his hand on the back of your neck and pushes you to him to kiss you, rough but so soft at the same time. You break the kiss and lay back as he aligns himself with your throbbing core. You never thought you’d say this, but fuck, you want Harry. 
Harry slowly begins to push into your wet folds ever so softly and his gaze keeps redirecting itself to you checking if you are okay, and fuck you’re more than okay. Harry this time with the approval of your undeniable pleasurable state, he thrusts into you a little bit faster.
You moan at the state of ecstasy he’s providing you as your head falls back on the bed and you shut your eyes in pure satisfaction. 
Harry takes this opportunity to lean down placing his hands on either side of you, hovering over you. Harry places warm sloppy kisses along your chest and then uses one of his hands to cup your breast into his hands squeezing it ever so lightly. Harry continues to thrust into you, “mm’fuck baby you feel so good” he moans in a raspy voice. 
You moan in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Within a few more pumps into you, you both reach your climax and Harry falls beside you both of you breathing in tune. You both stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do until you stand up and look for your clothes.
You had just realised, you fucked Harry Styles.
The star football player, and star player of girls. The boy who pesters you everyday. You just had sex with him. And what was worse was, you don’t regret it. He was undeniably better than Gab and what shocked you is that you still were craving him. 
You redress yourself and neaten up your hair thats gone wild from Harry’s hands and your sweat. 
Harry sits up with barely energy and watches you.
“I really enjoyed that pet” Harry smirks. 
You look up to see him leaning on his elbow laying on his bed. “mm’me too” you mumble as you search for your phone. 
15 missed calls and 7 text messages. All from Lola, Delilah and Gabriel. Why the fuck was Gab calling you. Fuck. How long had it have been since you and Harry started drinking in the kitchen? 
You look up to see Harry sliding his jeans on and buckling his belt. 
“I hope you know this doesn’t mean I’ll stop pestering you love” Harry says through a cheeky grin and you can’t help but let out a breathy laugh at his words. “I know” you smile back. 
You finally have all your things gathered and you look up at Harry, sort of unsure of what to do next. Harrys stares at you with his signature smirk as he watches you think of something to say.
“Well uhh, thanks I guess umm see you around Harry” you say with a short smile at the end, very unsure of what had just happened this whole night to be honest. 
“See you around pet” He says lowly returning the smile but it’s more of a smirk. The smirk that will be the death of you. 
You take that as a good bye and open the door handle and walking through the hallway and down the stairs as you’re stopped by Niall. 
“Y/n, everyones been looking for ya” Niall says with a confused look as to why I’d be upstairs where the boys rooms are. 
“Everyone?” You ask confused. “Yeah um not everyone just Delilah, Lola and Gab” He says still confused and looking for any evidence on you that you had just... you know.. “Gab said to call him as soon as possible, not sure why though” Niall finishes.
“I don’t want anything to do with -” you’re cut off by Gabriel presence as he bombards your conversation with Niall, but his not alone his in the presence of Lola who has a mixture of anger and now shock on her face. 
Gabriel looks furious and it is evident that Lola was trying to prevent him from seeing you, obviously trying to protect you from your psycho ex boyfriend.
“Y/n, where have you been?” Gab asks with a strong amount of anger and confusion printed on his face. Looking past his shoulder Lola looks scared as she doesn’t want a problem to arise. 
“She doesn’t have to tell you anything” Lola interrupts and Gab sends her an unimpressed look causing Lola to shudder a little bit. 
And with perfect timing, Mr Styles himself walks on down the stairs confirming everyones thoughts of where you had been. Niall’s face was in shock and so was Lolas, but Gabs face turned red from his rage. 
“Whats the problem here?” Harry asks everyone, slightly confused from the crowd gathering at the bottom of the staircase.
You look up at Harry unsure of what to say, you look scared and so does Lola as you both look to Gabriel who looks like he could just about kill Harry. Harry finally seems to catch on as his eyes widen slightly before covering his expression with a stern look to Gab who is about ready to rip Harrys through out. 
“Y/n... please do not tell me you and Harry” Gab begin but doesn’t know how to finish his sentence, not wanting to say what he is thinking out loud. Everyones eyes dart between you and Harry and both of you are unsure. Harry does not want to be rude and boast about you, he doesn’t see you like any other girl, but he also doesn’t want to look embarrassed about having you, because he is definitely not. Harry looks to you and you look to him. 
Delilah out of no where joins the group frantically. “Y/N, Lola, we have to go now” 
Everyone turns to Delilah, being completely oblivious to the situation Delilah shoots the faces a glare “What?” she asks pissed off. No one says anything so she grabs Lola and you and drags you out of the frat house. 
“What the fuck was that about” Delilah asks Lola and you once arriving on the footpath being able to soundly hear each other as the thumping house noise diminishes. 
“Ask y/n” Lola shrugs, very curious to see what your answer will be. 
Delilah turns to face you. “I slept with Harry” you spat out, as quickly as you could. Ripping off the bandaid. 
Both girls stop in their tracks. Mainly Delilah as Lola had seen it coming. “You what?” Delilah speaks, jaw wide and eyes open. 
Both girls squeal. A reaction you expected but not really since Delilah seemed quite pissed off. They embraced you in a hug, a very weird thing they loved to when one of you girls would sleep with someone. You had only slept with 3 people now, you were never one for one night stands but Delilah and Lola were, especially Delilah which you didn’t mind but their way of expressing it was sorta weird but you got used to it. 
“Well fuck, so thats why Gab looked like he was gonna explode” Delilah snickered. 
“We saw this happening but just never expected it to like actually happen” Lola says.
You shrug “I don’t know how it even happened, but it was amazing” You gush. 
The girls eyes open wide and stare at you as if you are a completely different person. “y/n with emotions?, feeling? who even are you” They gasp dramatically and you give them a sarcastic smile. 
You all continue to walk home as Delilah recites her night and so does Lola. Both girls filling you in on all the boys who tried to swoop them and you laugh at their ridiculous ways of describing everything. 
Once you three reach home you all go your seperate ways and get ready for bed and knock out completely. You quickly take your makeup off and throw your dress to the floor and swap for some pyjamas and you lay down in bed putting your phone to charge.
You notice you have a new notification from an unknown number. Confused as to who it is you check your phone.
Unknown:
Goodnight pet thanks for tonight, see you in class ;) xx
Smiling to yourself as you set your phone down, you knew exactly who it was. 
Part 2 
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Pairing: Jamin x Reader
Genre: angsty at first, fluffy fluffy fluffy ending!
Warning: y/n is in an emotionally abusive relationship
Word Count: 10k oof guess I went overboard for Jaemin
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“I’m so proud of you, Jisung!” You cooed upon learning that your baby brother earned his first part-time job. 
Jisung mumbled, “Ah, cut it out,” but he couldn’t fight his smile as he squirmed to escape your embrace and efforts to pinch his rosy cheeks. “I don’t act like this when you make the honor roll at your college—”
“That’s because my academic excellence has become expected, almost unimpressive,” you joked confidently, almost choking on laughter when Jisung groaned at your mock arrogance. “But you—” you poked his arm— “you’ve always been a precious baby, so it’s weird to watch you step into the adult world.”
Having learned long ago that he would always be a baby in your eyes, Jisung didn’t waste his breath arguing that he was kind of, basically, technically an adult. He blinked at you and tilted his head so it laid against the back of the couch. “I don’t think about it like that. It’s just a job at the cafe, and I’m only doing it because my friends are.”
Spending time with Jisung was refreshing because his simple, youthful outlook challenged your habit of overanalyzing. That aspect of your relationship hadn’t changed since you enrolled in the local university. Jisung was still very much your baby brother; yet, as he laid back and stretched his legs over your lap and his socked feet dangled off the arm of the couch, you realized with a gasp that he was growing up. He was growing up, and he didn’t think anything about it while you mourned every second of lost youth. To Jisung, the next steps in life— which terrified you— were fun, a casual adventure with his friends. 
What would it be like, you wondered enviously, to be like Jisung? 
You wouldn’t ask. Even if you did, Jisung wouldn’t know how to answer. 
As he playfully wiggled his toes into your ribs, and you laughed while swatting at his denim-clad legs, a voice sounded through his headset. The words were unintelligible, but the tone was unmistakable: annoyed. They prompted Jisung to sit upright, plant his feet on the carpeted floor, and unpause his video game. Although his gaze was fixed on the flashing screen, he covered only one ear with the headset. 
He heard you ask, “Who is that?”
“Jaemin,” Jisung whispered out of the side of his mouth and covered the microphone so his friend wouldn’t hear. 
Because he was playing with just one hand, Jisung caused his team to lose. The loss was evident from the crimson text— “YOU LOSE”—  filling the black screen, the slackjawed frown on Jisung’s face, and (especially) from the shrieks breaking through the headset. 
Jisung chanted, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” but the shrieks rang on. 
Your face flushed as rage burned in your gut. “Still Jaemin?”
A mere nod was Jisung’s answer. He didn’t bother to push away the bangs that had fallen into his eyes. 
“What is he even saying?” You hissed. 
“Nothing really,” Jisung shrugged away from your question. 
You were overprotective of Jisung— you wouldn’t deny that. His willingness to defend his buddy despite his obviously flaring tempter fuelled your frustration. Maybe, you thought later, you shouldn’t have disliked that Jaemin kid that much considering you had never even seen him. 
Rolling your eyes, you bossed, “Tell him that it’s just a game. You can play again until you win.”
Jisung shook his head and calmly explained, “That’s the worst thing to say to a raging gamer, Y/N—”
“Are you talking to a girl?” Jaemin roared loudly enough for you to hear. “Is that why we lost the tournament? Because you’re flirting with a girl?”
Sensing that you were reaching to snatch the headset to rival Jaemin’s temper, Jisung jumped up, stood as tall as he could on the couch so you couldn’t quite reach his head no matter how hard you stretched, and huffed at Jaemin, “I’m talking to my sister, not flirting, and I have to go!” He disconnected the headset and turned the game off before you could say anything to threaten his friendship with Jaemin. 
You slumped down on the cushion. “You must have made some really nice friends while I’ve been busy busting my butt at school.”
“He is nice!” Jisung stepped off the couch. Frowning as you rolled your eyes again, he grumbled, “There’s no point in talking when people are too angry to listen,” before sulking away to his bedroom, embarrassed by his scoldings. 
You regretted letting him walk away, but you resolved to comfort him later after tensions died down. 
. . . 
Because you were determined to be a kind person, you surrounded yourself with people who didn’t boil your blood. So, to tolerate Jaemin— which was as close as you could get to liking him as Jisung wanted— you had to maintain a safe distance. For the sake of peace, Jaemin had to remain a faceless name spoken into Jisung’s headset, and you would try not to roll your eyes whenever you heard it. 
Despite what anyone says, you didn’t walk into the cafe that night with the intention of meeting Jaemin face to face. In fact, had you known that he was the friend Jisung followed into the workforce, you wouldn’t have agreed to pick your brother up after his shift. That was childish; since you were already in town after your last class, it only made sense that you should be the one to wait for him in the parking lot. 
You were patient at first. Then, minutes passed, and you had to turn the car off to save gas, and the almost-summer heat baked the car until you lost all self-control. Had you rushed into the air-conditioned cafe sooner, before you were seething at the realization that you had wasted over an hour waiting for Jisung (who was still scrubbing down tables like Cinderella well into the night on his first day), you might have missed Jaemin’s lecture that pushed your temper to its breaking point.
You couldn’t have recognized Jaemin by his neatly combed hair or crystalline smile. You knew him by the frustrated tone he used to scold Jisung without looking up from the register where he stood counting the day’s earnings. “You made too many stupid mistakes today, Jisung! I can forgive you for forgetting the day’s special once or twice, but every time you talked to a customer— if you can’t be bothered to memorize something so simple—”
“Ahem.” 
The boys’ attention snapped away from their work to gawk at you with wide eyes when you cleared your throat. 
“— you can always just look at this chalkboard,” Jaemin concluded less sternly, pointing at an overheard sign that boasted: ‘Today’s Special: Green Tea Latte.’
Jaemin’s bug-eyed stare provoked you to quip, “Is that all you do— for fun and for work? Yell at Jisung?”
“Huh?” Jaemin’s jaw dropped in an innocent schoolboy expression that might have been adorable if he hadn’t already landed on your bad side. 
This was your biggest fault: you put too much weight in first impressions. Of course, you could easily apologize after realizing that you had misjudged somebody. You even had a consistent record of forgiving inexcusable offenses against yourself. What you couldn’t forgive or forget were attacks against Jisung, and you had just witnessed Jaemin’s second strike. 
Acting as the mediator between your wrath and Jaemin’s confusion, Jisung returned to his task of wiping the table. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”
It was irrational to expect Jisung to raise his voice to defend himself from Jaemin’s scolding. Jisung was subordinate to Jaemin in friendship and especially in the workplace hierarchy. Always, you were proud of your brother’s peaceful temperament. Proud and, at that moment, annoyed. 
“Mom and dad asked me to drive you home after your shift that was supposed to end over an hour ago.” 
Jisung’s lips rounded into a tiny ‘o,’ and he turned to Jaemin for confirmation of the time. 
Jaemin didn’t notice, though. He was quietly studying you with narrowed eyes. “You’re Jisung’s sister?”
“Yeah,” you nodded stiffly. “I’m the reason you lost your little video game tournament.”
Your words were intended as a blunt weapon, but Jaemin laughed. His smile was almost blinding as he swept his hair out of his face with slender coffee-stained fingers. “Oh yeah. Well, don’t sweat that. I forgive ya!”
Before you could explain that you weren’t apologizing— that neither you nor Jisung had done anything to warrant begging forgiveness— Jaemin winked, “As long as you go on a date with me!”
You imagined your reaction looked a lot like Jisung’s: hanging jaws and wide-eyed blinking. Objectively, it was flattering that someone as cute as Jaemin (excluding his temper) would flirt with you even as a mindless pastime. Even if Jaemin hadn’t made two terrible first impressions, even if he wasn’t one of Jisung’s little buddies, even if your pride would allow you to give in to his charms, one dreadful fact remained: 
“I have a boyfriend.”  
On cue, Jisung rolled his eyes. Grinding his teeth, he dropped his gaze on the table. 
“Oh.” Jaemin’s shoulders fell, and his smile barely faltered. The smile, you realized, wasn’t an expression of happiness; his lips were almost permanently set in a toothy grin, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 
That must be inconvenient, you thought. Does he smile even when he’s sad? Or when he’s angry? 
When Jaemin looked up at Jisung, his eyes crinkled fondly. All traces of past frustration had vanished. “Goodnight, Jisung. I’ll see ya tomorrow!”
Slowing his movements to a near-complete stop, Jisung started, “But I’m not finished—”
Jaemin shot him a pointed look. As quickly as it had calmed, his temper flared. “Don’t keep your sister waiting. I’ll close up.”
Just as you opened your mouth— to thank Jaemin, or to apologize for your impatience, or to offer to help clean or at least sit quietly while waiting for them to finish— your phone rang. Your mother was calling probably to ask why you weren’t yet home with Jisung in tow. 
“Come on,” you urged Jisung gently after silencing your ringer and quietly resolving to have him call her once you were in the car. “We should go. Mom is worried.”
After looking at Jaemin once more for permission and receiving a courteous nod, Jisung untied his apron and folded it on the counter before Jaemin. “Thanks. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” 
Had Jisung been less mature, he would have teased you for abandoning your decision to dislike Jaemin after seeing him just once and exchanging only a few words. Instead, he focused on returning your mother’s call to recount his day at school (where he aced his first final exam) and his first day at work (where his friend Jaemin taught him how to make all kinds of coffee and pastries while defending him from the jokes of other teenage workers). 
Silence fell over the car after Jisung ended the call. You drummed your thumbs on the steering wheel, anticipating that he must have saved some exciting story for your ears only, just as he always had. But no sound came from the passenger seat. 
Your heart sank. No, you couldn’t blame him for being mad or embarrassed by you. Not only had you treated him like a defenseless infant— as always— you were also rude to his friend. 
Yes, you had walked in on Jaemin lecturing Jisung, but at least he had been considerate enough to wait until the cafe was empty to voice is criticisms. All day, while you were too busy at school to do it yourself, Jaemin acted as Jisung’s guardian and protector. And no, you hadn’t forgotten that Jaemin screamed at Jisung and made his face flush because of a stupid video game, but it was clear from watching their interactions and from hearing how proudly Jisung talked about him that they held no grudges. Who were you, then, to hold on to one on Jisung’s behalf? 
“I’m sorry,” you muttered. An apologetic glance over at the passenger seat revealed that Jising had fallen fast asleep. His head was leaned against the window, and his mouth hung agape; faint snores filled the silence. 
As you decided to let him sleep, Jisung jolted awake. His face almost crashed into the dashboard. 
“Alright there, partner?” You hummed like you used to in the days when you played Toy Story with him from dusk until dawn. 
“Yeah.” Jisung nodded groggily as he settled back and reclined his seat. “Did ya say something while I was sleeping, partner?”
Again, you readied your apology, but you hesitated to deliver it as you sensed Jisung’s smile like gentle sun rays illuminating your skin. He wasn’t upset. He didn’t expect an apology. Yet, you felt you owed him one anyway. 
He moped, “What’s wrong?”
You shook your head. Although you were sorry, you didn’t have to express that with a long winded speech he wouldn’t understand. You could express it instead through actions. You could express it through jokes. 
“I said Jaemin is a real cutie.” Without glancing away from the road, you winked. 
Because you expected Jisung to gag— who wants to hear their sister call their friend cute?— you were surprised when he simply warned, “You have a boyfriend, remember?” You weren’t surprised, however, that he choked around the word ‘boyfriend.’
“Why don’t you like him? My boyfriend, I mean?”
Had you looked over, you would have seen Jisung cross his arms and turn his gaze out the window. “Why do you like him?”
Jisung so rarely disliked anyone, his disapproval of your boyfriend made you wary of the romance— if you could even call it a romance. After months of back and forth, he finally decided that you could call him your boyfriend. Because you spent so much time and energy chasing that ideal, the half-formed thought of being with him, you couldn’t quite let it go even though the dull reality paled (soured, even) to the dream. 
You should have been able to answer Jisung’s question. It was a dooming sign, your inability to name one reason why you liked your boyfriend that hadn’t been dashed by being his girlfriend. Rather than heeding the sign, however, you clutched the wool over your eyes and turned the radio on. 
. . . 
“Believe it or not, babe, I’d like to have one date that’s not about babysitting your little brother,” your boyfriend said through a mouthful of rice.
Rejection was an almost daily occurrence, but you reddened nonetheless. “First of all, my brother isn’t that young. He’s eighteen.” Yes, to you, Jisung was a precious baby; but you had to deny his youthfulness to defend him from your boyfriend’s criticism. To mask your blossoming blush, you took a sip of your tea. “Second of all, it’s not a date. I told Jisung I would take him and his friends to the arcade if he got good grades on all his exams. I’m inviting you to be nice.”
To be nice. To try again to be a better girlfriend because maybe that would make him a better boyfriend. To subject yourself, again, to disappointment because maybe that would be the final one to sever your ties. 
He had stopped listening, opting instead to scroll through his phone. “Whatever.”
Before he could look up and make his millionth appeal for a date in the privacy of your bedroom, before he could reiterate his rejection, you forced yourself onto your feet. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Although you would be almost an hour early to class, you raced out of the cafeteria. Had you been thinking more clearly— had you been able to breathe comfortably enough to think around him at all— you would have tried again to break up with him. It wasn’t a mystery why Jisung hated him, you admitted to yourself as you dashed through the deserted hallway. He was determined to employ every negative tactic to occupy your every thought; he refused to encourage your interaction with others, even your own brother; he thought only of keeping you to himself. 
And yet, he could ignore you for days, leaving you to wonder what you had done wrong to inflict the latest silence. When you would forcefully swallow your dwindling pride to invite him to spend time together, he would reject your advances because they weren’t intimate enough. 
Until you were trapped in that cycle, you couldn’t comprehend how hard— impossible— they are to break from. In a few scattered moments, like the one where you sat with your back pressed against the wall and knees drawn up to your chest, it was undeniable: you were miserable. Rather than finding the strength to end the relationship, instead of embracing the uncertainty of freedom, you prayed that he would let you go. If he was so uninterested, why couldn’t he just walk away? 
You knew the sickening answer. Nobody ever liked him before you did. Clinging to you— even if it meant breaking you— was the only way he could hold the illusion of self-worth. Putting you down, making you beg for acknowledgment, was the only way he could stand over anyone. You walked into this situation by pining after somebody who never wanted you; maybe, then, you deserved to be unhappy. 
As students flooded out of the classroom and into the hall, you wiped at your eyes with ice-cold hands. You weren’t crying; you were just trying to wipe the tired dark circles off. 
“Y/N!” Someone called on their way out of the classroom. 
It was Jaemin, beaming and waving both hands excitedly as if greeting an old friend— as if you hadn’t treated him so unfairly during your first and only prior meeting. 
That pinch of guilt and whatever dread caused by your boyfriend faded when Jaemin slung his yellow backpack onto the floor at your feet before crashing into the space on the bench next to you. 
“Gotta leave room for others,” he justified when you raised an eyebrow as he stretched his arm along the back of the bench around your shoulders. 
“Right,” you nodded dubiously. “What are you doing here, Jaemin?”
“Ouch— icy—” he winced, playfully smiling all the while. “Just give me a chance, and I’ll prove that I’m worthy of sitting with you!”
“I don’t doubt it.” He blushed at your honest attempt at flattery, and you continued, “But that’s not what I meant. Why are you doing here at my school?”
Jaemin shrugged. “It’s not just your school.”
Your eyes widened. “You go to school here?” He nodded. “Really? I could have sworn you were Jisung’s age and that he met you at his high school—”
“Nope.” Jaemin popped the ‘p’ proudly. “I hope you didn’t reject me just because you thought I was too young!” You laughed, and he winked, “It’s okay if ya did. I’ll give you another chance to date me.” 
You shook your head, almost in a futile attempt to convince yourself that your heart didn’t flutter with the growth of Jaemin’s smile.
“Just playing.” He dropped the arm resting behind your shoulders to act as a barrier between your bodies. “Jisung said you really have a boyfriend, so I probably shouldn’t flirt with you.” 
Blushing at the information that Jaemin and Jisung talked about you, you blurted, “He wouldn’t mind.” Your hand clamped over your mouth too late to prevent them from filling the air. 
“Who?” Jaemin’s head tilted curiously. “Jisung or your boyfriend?” You didn’t answer, so Jaemin tried another question: “Would you mind?”
Eager to escape, you flinched off of the bench. “Sorry, Jaemin— gotta get to class.” As much as you loathed your boyfriend, as much as you were starting to like Jaemin, outright flirting wasn’t right. 
You couldn’t control what Jaemin did. Diving to reach your hand, he didn’t seem to care too much that you had a boyfriend. Then again, he probably didn’t have to care; he wasn’t obligated to consider any feelings but his own. 
Undeterred by your gasp and smirking because you didn’t yank your hand out of his grasp, he asked, “You’re going to the arcade with Jisung this weekend, right?”
It shouldn’t have been a big deal— touching somebody’s hand— but you couldn’t quite breathe because of Jaemin’s touch. Numbly, overwhelmed with unfamiliar emotions that clouded your thoughts, you nodded. “Yeah. Who do you think is paying for all the tokens and pizza?”
“Huh?” In his surprise, Jaemin dropped your hand. You could breathe again. His eyes narrowed. “Not you. I’ll pay.”
You shook your head. “Jisung is my brother, and I promised to take him and his little friends—”
“Do you even know  how many people he invited?” When you responded with another shake of your head, Jaemin counted on his hand, “Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, and me. Excluding me— because I’m not letting you pay my way— and including Jisung, that’s five boys you’re promising to pay for. Five boys—” he wiggled his fingers menacingly— “who live on pizza and games.”
Forcing your arms through the straps of your backpack, you chuckled at his dramatic delivery. “If they’re so expensive, why are you so determined to pay for them yourself?”
“Because you shouldn’t have to—”
Your alarm sounded to signal that your class would start in five minutes. “I have to go to class, Jaemin, so we’ll have to bicker about this later—”
As you dismissed the alarm with the tap of your thumb, Jaemin yanked your phone away. “Here. I’ll give you my number.” His eyes twinkled when they met yours, and a corner of his lips flicked upward in a teasing smile as he clarified, “Just so we can discuss this payment business. Don’t get any funny ideas.”
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Despite your promise to Jisung not to waste the night staring at the door waiting for your boyfriend, you sat alone at a small table doing just that for at least thirty minutes after Jisung ran into the arcade with his friends. Were you hoping he would show up? Not because you wanted to play skeeball with him or anything. You just wanted— needed— for the silence born after your last conversation in the cafeteria to end. As expected, your humbling texts had gone unanswered; there was no reason to think he had changed his mind about coming to the arcade. 
He’s not coming. Again, always, you were caught between relief and anxiety. Your sweaty palms clutched the edges of your seat. I’ll give him ten more minutes. Ten more minutes, and then I’m having fun with or without him. 
But it was impossible to have fun with him. That truth was never more blatant than when Jaemin plopped into the chair next to you. 
He boasted, “I gave the children money to buy pizza,” in a voice made raspy to emulate old age, “per our agreement.”
That was the compromise reached via texts: Jaemin would pay for all food, and you would pay for arcade access. 
Jaemin’s characteristic sterling smile dimmed as he noticed your frown and how you nervously eyed the door and compulsively checked your phone. “Are you expecting someone?” You hesitated to respond, and he warned, “The kids will be here any minute, so you should tell me what’s bugging you quickly. That way, we can work through it while we still have some privacy.”
His earnest stare prompted you to blurt, “My boyfriend.” Noting Jaemin’s frown, you squirmed through your stresses. “I invited him— who knows why— and he said that he wanted to have a date without my brother tagging along— so, obviously, I stormed off— and we haven’t talked in two days— which isn’t that long, but I don’t know what to say to fix things— and he isn’t even here, and—”
Jaemin blinked like Jisung always did when your worries bubbled out of your mouth, so you cut yourself off. Jaemin’s mouth fell open, and it stayed open as he struggled to form a response. 
“I’m sorry.” You shrank in your seat. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
Aside from feeling guilty for dumping your feelings on someone, you hated yourself for spilling them all over Jaemin of all people. Jaemin, who always smiled and didn’t deserve to be burdened with your self-inflicted troubles. Jaemin, who flirted with you, and somehow liked you, and didn’t want to hear about your boyfriend. 
“I don’t think you have to apologize. To me or to him.” Jaemin’s smile slowly returned, and guilt eased its clutch around you. “No offense, but anyone who doesn’t want to hang out with you and Jisung is lame. And I’m not just saying that because I like—”
Your soaring heart came crashing down when Haechan cheered, “We come bearing pizza!” The other boys followed behind him, each carrying two boxes of pizza. 
After Renjun returned Jaemin’s debit card and the boys claimed a seat— notably, Jisung sat at your side and smiled brightly— Jaemin glared at nobody in particular. “Do you think you got enough to eat? Seriously, guys, ten pizzas are excessive! You can’t just take advantage of my generosity—”
“Jaemin,” you interrupted calmly, fighting the urge to giggle at his nagging with the other boys. “It’s okay. If it matters so much, I’ll pay you back.”
“What?” He gasped. “No, don’t! Besides, money isn’t the point—”
“Generosity!” Chenle cackled and flicked a piece of pepperoni at Jaemin; he dodged the attack. “You just bought us dinner to impress Jisung’s big sister!”
The others, excluding Jisung, chorused, “Ooooh.” All, except the laughing Jeno, partook in flinging pizza toppings at Jaemin. 
Burning a faint shade of pink from his neck up Jaemin screeched, “Yah! Cut it out! I dressed nicely—”
Jeno wiggled his eyebrows before sinking his teeth into a slice of cheese pizza. “Jaemin dressed nicely to impress Jisung’s sister!”
And the boys (minus Jisung, who sat quietly at your side, cheeks stuffed full) again sang “Ooooh,” until your face and Jaemin’s both colored crimson. 
In what must have been an attempt to defend you from his friends’ teasing Jisung swallowed his mouthful and chirped, “She has a name! It’s Y/N!”
Jisung’s attempt backfired. 
“Ooooh! Jaemin and Y/N, sitting in a tree. . .”
As the boys sang their silly song, and you laughed out loud for the first time all night, Jaemin’s annoyance or embarrassment vanished. Grinning, he flew out of his seat, grabbed you by the hand, and pulled you toward the arcade. “Hope you got all the pizza you wanted!”
Although you couldn’t really care less about eating more pizza, you yelled over children’s laughter and game sound effects, “You don’t think they’ll leave me any?”
“Jisung might try to save you some, but it’ll get all cold if one of the guys doesn’t steal it. You and I are gonna be here for a while.” He dropped your hand to point up at a shelf of plush prizes. “Which one do you want?”
The giant mint green llama instantly caught your eye. You fumbled with an answer because, “Jaemin, those cost, like, 5,000 tickets!”
He retrieved a neon green play card from his back pocket, twirled it between his fingers, and winked. “4,902 electronic tickets, baby! Pick your prize, and we’ll get the other 98 tickets!”
“How— why—” You stuttered, flustered by Jaemin’s utterly unromantic use of the word ‘baby.’
“I come here a lot,” Jaemin shrugged, “and I already have a bunch of those plushes. It’s a little childish, but they always make me feel better when I’m feeling down.” 
Oh. So this was his response to your rambling about your boyfriend. He wouldn’t tell you to just break up with him if you were so miserable like your girlfriends did before casually moving on to the next topic of idle gossip. He wouldn’t sulk with you like Jisung. Jaemin would go out of his way to teach you to have fun. 
“Pick one!” Jaemin urged again, brushing his elbow against your ribs until you went weak with laughter. Before you could trip over your own feet, he secured you around the waist. As he parted his lips, probably to tease your clumsiness, his gaze followed where you pointed. “Ah, the llama. Cute. Let’s go!” He grabbed your hand again and sped to the wall of skeeball machines because, as he explained, that game was the quickest (and most fun) way to earn tickets.   
“We don’t have to run everywhere,” you wheezed, doubling over. 
Having knelt down to swipe his play card, Jaemin looked up and stole your little remaining breath with his smile. “Come on, Y/N, breathlessness is part of the fun!” Seeing that you were scrambling to pull your card out of your pocket, Jaemin swiped his again through your machine before standing upright. 
“Jaemin!” You swatted at him gently, and he spun away from the contact. “I’m supposed to pay for the games! That’s what we agreed on!”
Your scolding elicited a burst of laughter. Shaking his card at you, Jaemin defended, “The points are on my card.” A single eyebrow arched. “If you want that adorable llama, you gotta let me pay.”
Because he turned his attention to his game and started launching ball after ball into the center target before you could reply, he didn’t see your small smile. “Under that cute exterior,” you mirrored his posture as you started your game, “you’re really quite cunning.”
Rather than fixating on the insult, Jaemin noticed the compliment. “Cute,” he mimicked your high pitch. “You think I’m cute?” He glanced out of the corner of his eye to gauge your expression and snorted as your ball sank into the gutter. “Oops! Am I too cute? Am I distracting you?”
To your relief, your blush was washed out by the blinking arcade lights. “You’re not distracting me because you’re cute.” You balanced the lie with a partial truth: “You’re distracting because you’re annoying.”
“Ouch,” He whistled. His game announced, ‘New High Score!’ and he celebrated by pumping a fist into the air before turning to you. “Every time I think you’re starting to like me back just a little, you cut me right back down.”
Well aware of how flirtatiously Jaemin would interpret your words, you decided to say, ‘I do like you.’ The words were dancing on the tip of your tongue, but you swallowed them back at the sudden reappearance of Jisung and his band of friends. 
“Found ‘em!” Haechan declared as if you had been playing hide-and-seek. 
This is a good thing, you told yourself as your game ended without all the fanfare Jaemin’s high score earned. I would have regretted confusing Jaemin’s feelings. Some true things are better left unsaid. 
“Ah, these kids are ruining the experience,” Jaemin grumbled playfully. Shoving his hands into the pockets of light blue acid-washed jeans, he asked the boys, “What do you need now?”
“We just wanted to check in on our favorite budding romance.” Renjun’s jest received laughter from the other boys and a dramatic eyeroll from Jaemin. 
While Jaemin suggested, “Find your own girls and stop following us like a bunch of weirdos,” Jisung stepped up to your side. 
“Want these?” He held out his joined hands that cupped a rainbow assortment of hard candies. “I won them out of a machine!” Your brother beamed at his accomplishment when you popped a candy into your mouth.
Stuffing a wrapper and a couple of pieces into your pockets, you smiled at him. “Thank ya, Jisung!” The cherry flavored jawbreaker muffled your voice. You nearly choked on your laughter when Jisung bent his knees and leaned forward so you could pat his head of pink-brown hair in proud gratitude. 
“Now that the adorable sibling bonding is out of the way,” Chenle said, “we’re gonna play laser tag. We know you two—” his eyes flickered from you to Jaemin— “would rather make out by the skeeball machines—”
You gasped, and Jisung shouted, “Hey!” He stomped to Chenle and towered over him. Jisung’s height alone would have been daunting if he didn’t have the face of a baby even when glowering. “Don’t be a gross pervert! That’s my sister!” Chenle’s hands rose in mock surrender. “I’m not the one making out with—”
“Anyway—” As you facepalmed, Jeno intervened by stepping between Chenle and Jisung. “We’re gonna play laser tag, if you wanna tag along!” Jeno laughed at his own pun, and you removed your hand from your face to flash a polite grin. 
Jaemin replied with a shake of his head that sent his bangs falling into his eyes. “Nah, we’re not gonna play. Thanks for asking.”
“We’re not?” You wrinkled your forehead. 
You weren’t offended by Jaemin’s eagerness to speak on your behalf; you were just surprised that he didn’t run at the opportunity to explore the arcade with his friends. That was why he showed up, right? To spend time with Jisung. 
Ignoring Chenle’s joking, “Ooooh, trouble in paradise!” Jaemin explained through a nervous grin, “We can’t get tickets from playing laser tag. If we want that llama, we gotta stay focused!”
“Huh?” Jisung’s eyes resembled saucers as he sucked on a piece of candy. “Llama? You’re not gonna pay tag?”
You didn’t withstand your brother’s disappointed stare because you wanted to win some silly stuffed animal. This was wrong— now, you thought, you actually deserved your boyfriend’s disapproval— but you enjoyed having Jaemin’s attention to yourself. 
That’s why grinned, “Gotta win that llama!” earning Jaemin’s high five. 
Teasing you must have lost its appeal; wordlessly nodding, the boys— except Jisung, who stood staring at you— set off to play laser tag. Realizing that Jisung would otherwise be left behind, Renjun ushered him away, muttering, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”
Moments passed without words after Jaemin started another round of skeeball. 
The silence ended when Jaemin said, “You don’t have to look so guilty.” His voice, softer than usual, was almost lost amid booming sound effects and laughter and screams of triumph and despair. “Jisung won’t stay hung up on us for long. He’s an adaptable kid.”
You couldn’t explain that the guilt twisting your gut had little to do with the look you put on your brother’s face. Honesty would have required admitting aloud that spending this time with Jaemin was a sin; then, you would have to stop out of respect for the never-present boyfriend who didn’t care to show you any consideration. And you didn’t want to stop. And you didn’t want to ruin the playful atmosphere by vocalizing your distress. And you didn’t want to overwhelm Jaemin’s crush on you if it were as shallow as you imagined. 
We’re just having fun, you argued to the voice in the shadows of your mind that demanded an justification for your joy. 
The voice in your mind sounded a lot like the one booming in your ears, the voice of your boyfriend, the voice that stunned you stiff. Those defensive thoughts— they weren’t just thoughts; they were also stuttered excuses you forced through trembling lips as he glared down at you, his fingers digging into your arms so roughly that it would have hurt if you weren’t embarrassed— numb. Numb except for the agonizing thundering of your heart. 
People were staring. People were listening to him scold, “I wouldn’t have bothered coming to this stupid place if I’d known you were here to hook up with some stupid kid you found at the claw machine.” 
He cut his eyes at Jaemin and crushed you with the realization that you were not trapped in a dream turned nightmare. He wouldn’t disappear with the opening of your eyes, yet you blinked once, twice, thrice, in the hope that he would. 
Jaemin was a s stunned as you were. Dark maroon splotches welted every visible inch of his skin; his chest rapidly rose and fell under his white t-shirt; his hands were clenched in tight fists pressed to his side; his jaw was forced shut, lips pressed into a thin line. 
“He is not a stupid kid.” Emboldened by the instinct to stand up for Jaemin, you didn’t shrink under your boyfriend’s cold, piercing stare. “He’s practically my age, and we aren’t even hooking up—” You liked Jaemin, and that perversion of your relationship made all of your hairs stand on end. “He’s my friend.”
“Your friend.” Your boyfriend’s laugh was hollow. Again, he was going to remind you that nobody was interested in you. Jabbing a finger at Jaemin without breaking your eye contact, he accused, “That kid is no more interested in ‘friendship’ with you than I am.”
At some point, you would have believed it. At some point, those words would have hurt you, but they had been spoken so often that they lost their sting. He had always been like this— cruel— even when you had willed yourself oblivious. Until now, you forced yourself to say whatever might guarantee temporary peace. 
What was so different now? 
Maybe now that you realized there were people like Jaemin, who would enjoy your company without the promise of anything in return, you couldn’t subject yourself to mistreatment. Maybe Jaemin’s smile broke through the darkness your boyfriend insisted encompassed the entire world; maybe Jaemin’s smile exposed your relationship’s emptiness; maybe you understood at last there was nothing there worth saving with forced silence. 
“Let go of me.” You met your boyfriend’s eyes, voice wavering only slightly because the words were unfamiliar in your mouth. “Go away. You don’t want anything to do with me, and I don’t want anything to do with you either. So just— just—”
The tears that pooled in his eyes were inauthentic. Despite recognizing the deliberate attempt at manipulation, you tread that dangerous line between freedom and captivity, between apology and honesty, until he pushed you out of his grasp. 
You couldn’t even be relieved; he turned and towered over Jaemin who, somehow, was not intimidated by his size. Jaemin, who stood proudly when faced with the force that had been strangling you, extinguishing you for months. 
“Ease up, kid,” he growled, “I’m not gonna hit you.”
Jaemin did not change in his posture, and your boyfriend clicked his tongue in annoyance; you flinched at the sound, and Jaemin didn’t bat an eyelash. 
“Whatever. You want her so badly?” Jaemin nodded so wildly that your boyfriend would have seen if he hadn’t focused his eyes on you to watch you crumble as he said, “Take her, then. She’s nothing to me.”
You weren’t winded so much by what he said; you decided just moments ago that he could not determine your worth. But how could anybody spout cruelty so easily? How could he easily turn away from his latest attempt to break you when you could never work up the nerve to gently walk away from him? You couldn’t understand. 
And you couldn’t quite process the public break up until after noticing that the once bustling arcade had gone silent safe for the few scattered whispers— all about you. It was not quite real until you felt the eyes of strangers prying into you in search of the worth he could never find. The humiliation didn’t quite dawn on you until you met Jaemin’s gaze— overwhelmed, frightened, saddened. 
Jaemin’s stare. That’s what drove you to seek solace on a bench under the moonlight sky. 
The unseasonably cool blowing breeze reminded you that you never deserved to hold Jaemin’s attention. What had he even seen in you that day you stormed into the cafe to retrieve Jisung? You had been sweaty, irritable, dismissive of his friendship with Jisung and his inexplicable interest in you. Undesirable in appearance and in deed; yet somehow Jaemin could smile at you. You couldn’t understand. 
After that confrontation, he would never smile at you the same way. How weak must you have sounded, stuttering like a fool? How foolish must you have seemed for allowing someone so careless and cruel to stand close to your heart? 
Weak. Foolish. Undesirable. Unworthy. 
The words you thought of yourself were unfair, untrue, and yet you could not stop thinking them. In an effort to ignore the thoughts you couldn’t control, you wedged your phone out of your pocket. Gifsets were always guaranteed to brighten your mood. 
Your mood soured further, though, after dismissing a wall of texts from your boyfriend— well, ex-boyfriend and after reading a text from your friend, who sent you a screenshot of your ex’s Instagram account. The picture depicted a rather tasteless kiss between himself and a girl who wasn’t you with a caption that read: ‘Guess I don’t have to keep the best thing that ever happened to me a secret anymore. Guess Y/N and I were both two-timers.’
The screen went black, and you slammed the phone down at your side. After publicly accusing you of cheating with Jaemin, your ex revealed the reason why he never wanted you, why he preferred to go days without talking, why he never wanted to spend any time with you: there was somebody else. The problem was never you; the problem was always him. 
Somehow, deep down, or right at the surface, you had always known. So rather than feeling relieved or vindicated, you hated yourself for ignoring your parents and Jisung and the careful voice in your head that said, ‘let go, run,’ long before you met Jaemin and started falling for his smile slowly and then all at once. 
Footsteps slapped on the pavement from afar, and you sucked a breath in. Nobody could see you— not until you had worked through your storm of emotions— so you tugged your legs, bare below your striped shorts, up onto the bench and contorted to conceal yourself in the building’s shadow. 
Jaemin found you with little effort. He wasted no time in running to you and didn’t think twice before sitting beside you just as closely as he had at school days ago. His eyes were different now: wide with concern, no longer sparkling with mischief. 
Unable to stand how he looked at you— as if you were breaking— you crossed your arms over your knees and buried your face in the bend of your elbow. “Stop looking at me like that, Jaemin.”
Although he had done nothing wrong, Jaemin apologized. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry that happened, and I’m sorry I caused it—”
“You didn’t cause it.” The urge to console Jaemin overwhelmed the urge to hide. You lowered your feet onto the concrete and, to comfort him, rested your arm on the back of the bench, just behind his shoulders. “That guy— he’s always been a big—”
You wouldn’t have known how to describe your ex-boyfriend if your phone hadn’t interrupted you with a sharp buzz that likely signaled another incoming text from your friend. Jaemin grabbed your phone although you were content to leave the messages unread, and the screen lit up in his hand. 
Jaemin’s mouth fell open as he instinctively scanned the message. “He— he had the nerve to scream at you in front of all those people when he’s been kissing—”
Rage tightened around Jaemin’s vocal chords, and he shoved the phone back into the narrow space between your bodies. “I don’t get it. People like that— how do they get anyone to like them? And how can they just treat people— why do they— I—” He raked his fingers through his hair, drawing a deep ragged breath. 
Staring up at the moon and willing your voice to stay even, you mumbled, “I don’t get it either. I guess— you know— I read once that we accept the love we think we deserve.” 
Did you believe that line you found in a book? Is that why you could never break things off? 
Jaemin pulled his legs up onto the bench and crossed them so he could face you fully. “Hey.” He reached for your hand, and this time there was no playful smirk when you didn’t flinch from his touch. Once you mirrored his posture to face him too, he said, “You deserve better. A lot better. And by that, I don’t mean that you deserve me, even though I’d like—”
As if you weren’t leaning into his every word, Jaemin caught his tongue and stared down at his hand holding yours. 
When words failed, you returned his small act of affection by curling your fingers around his hand. “I really want to deserve you, Jaemin. Someday soon.” 
Had you given into the desire to look at him, you would have seen his eyebrows knitting together. “I don’t know what you mean. If it has anything to do with what that jerk said—”
“It doesn’t,” you said immediately despite your failed efforts to silence his nagging voice in the corner of your mind. “You’re just so bright and beautiful, and I was so quick to judge you for yelling at Jisung—”
“Wait, when did I— oh, are you talking about when I got onto him that time after work?”
You nodded slowly, tracing over his knuckles. “And when you yelled at him over that video game.”
“You actually heard that?” At his feeble tone, you finally looked up at Jaemin. In the pale moonlight, his blush was a glowing pink. He scratched at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’m sorry. I apologized to Jisung, too. I guess it’s not an excuse, but my temper isn’t all that great when I lose games. And that time after work—”
“I know you weren’t trying to bully him. You were trying to help him improve, and now I know that you just like to nag—”
Jaemin huffed, “I do not nag!”
“— and I’m sorry that I misunderstood you. It’s not an excuse, but I am too protective of Jisung because he’s the most precious person in the world. I didn’t know that you knew that too. I’m sorry.” 
Jaemin blinked, unsure of what to do with your apologies. “I like that you’re protective of Jisung. I like that when some big jerk is yelling at you, you think to defend me from his lame insults. That’s who you are, and it’s nothing to apologize for— especially because I like you.”
He liked you. After all of that chaos, Jaemin still liked you. Such a small word— like— meant so much because you couldn’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t Jisung said it to you and meant it. You didn’t try to fight the smile tugging at your lips. 
If you were defined by protectiveness of Jisung and Jaemin, then Jaemin was defined by buying pizza for his friends (and nagging about it), and offering a hard-earned collection of 4,902 tickets to brighten your day with a cute stuffed animal, and holding your hand in the aftermath of utter humiliation. 
You couldn’t keep the fact to yourself, and you didn’t want to: “I like you too, Jaemin.” 
He looked at you, and silence hung in the air as you stood together on the edge of something new. Should you say something to define it? Would taking that dive dampen the chemistry that formed despite old oppressive labels? 
You didn’t agonize long before Jaemin leaped off the bench and extended his hand to you. “Come on,” he implored, wearing that broad smile that gave your heart the wings to soar from its finally broken restraints. “We gotta go win that llama!”
You didn’t hesitate to take his hand; you didn’t hesitate to seize the moment with him, wherever it led. 
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Had you anticipated when stepping into the warm cafe from the chilly Autumn breeze that there would be so many college-aged students sitting around sipping down lattes and munching through muffins, you would have held onto the sunshine yellow gift bag longer and sought Jaemin at school tomorrow. Having stood in line far too long to just walk away without achieving your goal, you waited patiently, trying to repress your mounting anxiety, until Jeno noticed you from behind the register. 
“Y/N!” He smiled and motioned you to the front, deaf to the groans of customers who resented your special treatment. “Jaemin!” He yelled into the kitchen, “It’s time for your break!” After shooting an enthusiastic thumbs up that suspended your nerves, Jeno returned to serving customers. 
“Huh?” Jaemin filled the doorway, brow furrowed and lips pursed as he argued, “I’m not scheduled—” 
He shrieked at the sight of you and, as you laughed, he shedded his chocolate stained cream apron. Combing his fingers through his hair, he said, “Jisung isn’t here, ya know.” 
“I know,” you nodded. “I’m not here for Jisung.”
“Then why—”
At last, Jaemin’s eyes fell on the gift bag, and he presented you with his signature breath-taking smile. “Ah, I see!” He wagged a finger as he crossed the dark tiled floor, linked his arm with yours, and led you out into the golden afternoon. 
Sitting on the bench just outside the cafe and jugging you to his side, Jaemin beamed, “You couldn’t resist seeing me on my birthday!”
You teased, “For once, your delusions are spot on.” Too nervous to hand over the bag, you clutched it and glanced around at the browning treeline. “Is this our thing, Nana? Sitting on benches and holding hands?”
The blush that colored his face whenever you called him by his nickname never failed to tickle your heart. “Yep,” he hummed and laced his fingers (warm) through yours (cold). “I’m not gonna have to let go when I open that present, am I?”
His free hand reached out for the gift, and you couldn’t cling to it any longer. Sucking in a breath, you watched as he yanked out the white tissue paper; you released the breath only when his eyes sparkled while he freed the puny pink plush llama from the bag. 
“Did you win this from the arcade?” His smile, already too big for this dull world, grew with the nod of your head. 
“I can’t take all the credit,” you giggled when Jaemin touched the llama’s muzzle to your face again and again in time with the puckering of his lips to simulate kisses. “The idea was all mine, but Jisung helped me earn the tickets. Obviously, we’re not as good at games as you are—” Jaemin winked at the flattery— “so that’s why the prize isn’t as big as the one you won for me once upon a time.”
Jaemin didn’t seem to think less of the gift because of its size. “Ah, this is the best birthday!” he yelled into the cloudy Autumn sky. He released your hand only so he could hug the llama to his chest. “Thank you so much!”
Your heart softened. “You’re welcome!” Looking into the bag, you added, “I think there’s a card too.” 
You didn’t think; you knew there was a card without having to look into the bag for the thousandth time that day. The card— or, more specifically, the note inside— was what made your nerves tremble. 
Although you wanted some relief from the pounding of your heart, you couldn’t quite keep your eyes from admiring Jaemin’s face as he laughed at the silly googly-eyed puppy on the card’s front. You couldn’t keep your gaze focused instead on the llama lying face up in his lap because you had to watch the lines deepen around his smile when his eyes darted up after studying your handwriting. 
“Ooooh,” Jaemin whistled at having caught you studying him. “You have a crush on me!”
“I—” 
“And you can’t deny it!” He flipped the card, and you were faced with your curly pink letterings. Finally, too embarrassed, you looked away. “Here it is in writing!”
Were Jaemin anyone else in the world, it would have been cruel— the clearing of his throat as he prepared to read your confession aloud. He pressed his cloud-soft palm to yours as he recited, “‘Nana, I never thought you would become my best friend’ — after Jisung, I’m assuming— ‘And I never imagined that someone so bright and beautiful could exist in my life and steal my heart, but you have. You have, and I love you, and I’m ready to tell you.’”
Jaemin looked at you again, this time without any trace of playfulness. This time, he waited for you to catch your breath. 
He was good at waiting for you; he had been from the day you stomped into the cafe. He especially proved his patience over the last few months by giving you all the pleasures of friendship— all the joys of having an adorable boy to text at any hour, to laugh with too loudly at lunch, to sit with on two-person benches until seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours. He didn’t even seem tired of waiting for your romance to start because, really, it had already started. 
But you were tired of waiting to call him yours. 
“It’s not a crush, Jaemin. I’m in love with you.” 
He must not have been surprised; he didn’t gasp, his eyes didn’t widen, he didn’t miss a beat before responding, “I really want to be your boyfriend. I don’t need the title to love you too, obviously, but I want it as soon as you’re ready. Please.” 
You had been ready for a while— for as long as you could remember— but you forced yourself to wait for Jaemin. While Jaemin probably thought that you were testing his devotion, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Contrary to Jisung’s assumption (that you were waiting for certainty of your feelings), you did not once doubt the butterflies that had not stopped fluttering in your belly since you started cuddling with the mint-green llama to fall asleep. 
Maybe nobody else could understand that you were waiting for the wounds inflicted by your ex-boyfriend to heal. You never again wanted to bleed on Jaemin. You were waiting for the day that you could be as bright as the sun too. 
And that day had finally come, so you wasted no time in promising, “Okay, Nana. I’m ready.” 
Perhaps afraid that you would change your mind if asked to repeat yourself, or perhaps sensing your confidence, Jaemin asked for no clarification or justification of your feelings. After pumping a celebratory fist in the hair, he donned a victorious grin that you couldn’t resist capturing in a long-awaited whisper of a kiss. 
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BONUS SCENE:
“You’re almost as dangerous in the kitchen as Jisung is,” Jaemin fussed, knocking you away from the oven by colliding into the side of your hip with his own. He made a spectacle of pulling canary yellow oven mitts over his hands. “These keep you from getting burned by 350° cookie sheets, silly!” You rolled your eyes at the reprimand while Jaemin pulled the chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and gingerly set them on the counter. “Yeah, yeah,” you huffed, accustomed to his eagerness to show you up anywhere and everywhere— especially in the kitchen, where years of experience at the cafe gave him a clear advantage. 
After turning the oven off and closing its door, Jaemin pointed and giggled at your pout. “Aw, don’t be sulky, baby!” He dropped the shedded oven mitts into their drawer. Crossing the distance between you in two steps, he pressed his palms flat on the countertop at either of your sides. He lowered his face to level with yours. “You’re kinda cute when you pout, though.” 
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as Jaemin’s breath ghosted your lips. It wasn’t fair that you were always the breathless one. Quickly, before he could act first, you stretched to match your lips to his. 
His chocolate-flavored gasp was a short-lived reward. Always ready to adapt, always searching for a way to tease you, Jaemin was quick to turn your sweet, playful kiss into something that made your skin burn scarlet and legs turn to jelly. 
“Yah!” Jisung screamed upon entering the kitchen, and you pushed Jaemin away with all of your strength. Jisung never failed to slap a hand over his eyes after catching you deep in a kiss with Jaemin. His discoveries were growing in frequency, and his tolerance was wearing thin, as evidenced by his groan. “No place is safe! Not the cafe— not even during work hours; not Y/N’s car when you two pick me up after school—” 
Jaemin suggested, “You could take the bus—” 
“— not the arcade, definitely not the movie theater after last time, and now not the kitchen! Now, I can’t even walk around my own home without getting jumpscared!”
Jisung so rarely raised his voice, you were stunned silent. Jaemin, meanwhile, encouraged him, “You can walk around. Maybe just knock on doors first,” just to darken your blush. 
“There isn’t a door!” Jaemin pressed his back against a wall and gestured with one hand to the empty archway connecting the living room to the kitchen. “And you’re missing the point!”
“What is the point?” You hoped to make Jisung the target of Jaemin’s teasing, so as soon as Jisung dropped the hand covering his eyes to gawk at you incredulously, you wrapped your arms around Jaemin’s aproned waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I thought you wanted me to like Jaemin.” 
“Not like this!” Jisung’s whine struck a devilish spark in Jaemin’s eyes. Your mission was a success: Jaemin’s eyes fixed on your little brother. 
Frowning, Jaemin leaned into your embrace. “That’s not what you said when you gave me permission to ask Y/N out!”
“I thought she would reject you again!” 
When Jaemin gasped and pretended to faint in your arms, you laughed. “Well, Jisung, will any of my boyfriends meet your standards?”
“I don’t care that you’re dating.” Jisung tore his eyes away from Jaemin’s theatrics to root through the cabinets in search of a snack. The tips of his ears were blistered pink. “It’s just— the PDA—”
“Here.” Jaemin offered him a cookie and winked as he accepted it, “It’s not PDA if we’re not in public.” 
“Not this time,” Jisung grumbled through his mouthful of sugar. “Y/N, when do you think you’ll get tired of kissing Jaemin? I need to know when I can start walking around with my eyes open again.” 
Jaemin climbed onto the granite countertop, poked out his bottom lip, and kicked his sneakered feet like a small child. “Yeah! When are you gonna get tired of me?”
There was only one way to answer. 
“Never, of course!” You cheered before pecking at Jaemin’s now smiling lips.
“Shameless!” Jisung shrieked, running out of the kitchen with a handful of cookies. “Absolutely shameless!” 
You and Jaemin shared in the golden laughter that colored your every day together. 
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afni-fics · 3 years
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Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 13: Bleak Falls Barrow - Interior (part 4)
Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 13: Bleak Falls Barrow - Interior (part 4) by C_R_Scott Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Modded Skyrim, Skyrim Spoilers, Tim Drake is Dragonborn | Dovahkiin, Batfamily-centric (DCU), Tim Drake-centric
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Summary:
Finally, Tim and Lucien make it to the inner sanctum of Bleak Falls Barrow
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Fortunately for Tim and Lucien, their initial disastrous encounter with the draugr ambush was something they learned from and adapted to immediately. They observed from a distance how the undead creatures would only "wake up" if either someone was extremely close to them, or if there was a loud noise that drew their attention. Tim, much to his relief, learned that he could fire off arrows to make noises that would lure any draugr in the area to that spot. Once lured to a spot, usually clear on the farthest side of the room they were in, Tim would pick off the draugr with relatively little trouble.
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Turns out, though ferocious in combat once engaged, while they were searching for intruders the draugr were pretty slow and not very intelligent, often giving up the search and returning to their slabs if they weren't able to find anyone within a minute or two. 
Tim also made it a point to fire off arrows at any "sleeping" draugr laying on the slabs.... Just to be on the safe side. 
Using those techniques, Tim and Lucien didn't have to worry too much about the undead threat as they moved deeper into the Barrow.
***
"Well, looks like our Bosmer bandit made it quite a ways before the draugr finally got a hold of him," Lucien remarked as he saw the body of the now dead dark elf lying on the cold stone floor at the bottom of a flight of stairs. 
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Tim knelt down beside the body and searched the bandit's pockets. His eyes widened when he pulled out what looked like a solid gold claw.
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    "Wow... It's beautiful," Tim exclaimed as he turned the artifact over in his hand. Lucien was quite excited by the find.
"Look at that! What exquisite craftsmanship!" he cooed. "And look.. There are carvings of Nordic animals, just like that death trap puzzle."
Tim took a closer look at the carvings. Just like the deathtrap puzzle, there were three animals icons in a row on the claw. However, this time the animals were a bear, a moth, and an owl.
As Tim looked at the claw, Lucien had found a journal on the bandit and had thumbed over to the last page with any writing. "Hmmm... It appears this bandit stole this claw from someone named Lucan Valerius."
"I know that guy," Tim remarked, turning his attention back to the scholar. "He owns the general store in Riverwood. I think I overheard him the other day complaining about someone who'd broken into this shop. I guess this is what they stole."
"Well listen to this," Lucien said. "This is what the bandit wrote, 'Now I just need to get to the Hall of Stories and unlock the door. The legend says there is a test that the Nords put in place to keep the unworthy away, but that when you have the golden claw, the solution is in the palm of of your hands.'"
Tim smirked as he looked at the claw. "I guess whatever door we're needing to get through is locked, and this claw is the key."
"Undoubtedly! Goodness this is so exciting!"
***
Unfortunately, it took another several hours of exploring before they got to anything that looked remotely like a puzzle door. They killed more draugr and also circumvented a few more deathtraps, though these were more straightforward attempts to kill them, consisting of things like spiked walls that were triggered by a floor plate or multiple swinging axes lining a narrow corridor.
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Also, while they did finally get past the crypts and into more hallways, Tim had a thought as they crossed into what appeared to be a large main hall and stairs that led up to a second level. "It's kind of weird," he remarked as he shot another draugr.
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"What is?"
"Well, all things considered, aside from those few bandits and ourselves, it doesn't appear that any other living people have actually come this way in years, right?"
"Not as far as I can see," Lucien agreed. "If bandits had made it further through the Barrows, I think they would've made off with more of the artifacts we keep coming across."
Tim nodded. "Well... if that's the case, then why are there so many candles and cauldrons actively burning in this place?"
Lucien paused and looked at the nearest trio of burning candles. "You're right. That is rather odd." He pulled out his journal and jotted down a few notes. "Perhaps that's part of the draugrs' function in this Barrow? Some kind of maintenance?" He tapped his pencil against his chin.
"Or maybe it's something they just do, like a restless ghost repeating tasks they used to do in life?"
Lucien looked to Tim and smiled. "If it wasn't for the fact they are full of murderous intent toward the living, it would make an interesting research project if we were able to observe these draugr in an undisturbed environment."
Immediately Tim's thoughts went to tracking bugs, remote controlled drones, and hidden wireless cameras. He sighed as he pushed open a set of large wooden double doors. He was really missing technology.
Then he froze.
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"Lucien! This room..."
"Goodness! Could this be the Hall of Stories?!"
The doors had opened into a space that was completely different from all the other halls and rooms they'd passed thus far. It was a long hallway that was lined with carvings of ornate scenes on both sides.  Tim went up to the first one on his left and lightly traced the carving of a woman surrounded by moths with his fingertips.
"What is all this about?" he wondered aloud.
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Lucien had pulled out a scroll of paper and a stick of charcoal. "If I recall correctly, in addition to dragons, ancient Nords of the Merethic Era also worshiped a variety of animal spirits." He took a rubbing of the carving and mused over the desigh. "This appears to be a moth priestess presiding over some sort of funeral procession of some high ranking figures."
He moved down to the next set of carvings. "Hm... Similar funeral procession figures, but the priest is different. Animal appears to be a bear in this one."
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Tim examined the following carvings. "This priest looks to be for owls."
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Both men came up and examined the final set of carvings. Tim felt a slight uneasy chill course through his body as he noted what animal this priest seemed to represent. 
"Clearly, this a relief of a dragon priest," Lucien remarked.
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Tim left Lucien to get the rest of his rubbings and moved towards the odd door that now barred their path. there were three large circular rings with animal emblem on them, and there was a clear spot for the golden claw to be placed. He pulled out the claw and examined the pattern once more. Then, he matched the animals on the rings.
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Bear... Moth... Owl...
Then, Tim lined up the gold claw with the center keyhole.
"Here goes nothing," Tim said as he pushed the claw into the keyhole. Once locked in place, he turned the center circle. 
Suddenly, all the rings reset themselves, spinning around until there was a solid line of owls facing him. Then the door began to sink into the floor. Tim pulled the claw away before it could clatter to the floor and both he and Lucien watched as a new set of stairs was revealed.
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***
Past the stairs was a long hallway cut into the mountain.
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Past the hallway was something that took Tim's breath away.
"Look at that," Lucien whispered in awe. "The inner sanctum of the Barrow is inside a natural cavern!"
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Tim stood there and just took the entire site in. A colony of bats, startled by their intrusion, flew past them just overhead with achingingly familiar chirps and leathery wingflaps. The cavern itself was huge and spacious. He could hear all the same usual cave noises that he practically grew up with for nearly half his life. The sound of water dripping from unseen corners of the cave. The sounds of wind  rushing through tunnels just off the main cavern. A natural stream wove around the main altar area, fed by several small waterfalls, adding to the nostalgia, and moonlight from a hole in the ceiling somewhere in the mountainside illuminated the majestic stone carvings resting behind the altar.
It was all so different than The Cave back home in Gotham, but just similar enough that it made his heart ache from a sudden wave of homesickness.
"Timothy?" Lucien said gently as he noticed his travelling companion had gone quiet again. "Are you alright?"
Tim cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. "Yeah. I'm fine, Lucien. It's just..." He glanced around himself before sighing wistfully. "It just reminds me of home." 
Though he didn't see any draugr anywhere near or on the altar, Tim still kept his bow at the ready with an arrow nocked and ready to fly as he went up the stairs. However, as he came upon the landing of the altar area, Tim paused. 
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"Do you hear that?"
Lucien followed closely behind Tim. "Hear what? The waterfall?"
Tim shook his head as he looked around warily. "No... It sounds like... chanting?" He tried to follow the source of the sound, and found himself being turned toward a giant stone wall full of what looked like a foreign language carved into it, similar to cuneiform. 
It was... odd... Those letters looked almost, familiar?
Slowly, almost as if in a trance, Tim walked toward the wall, and the chanting seemed to get louder in his head. 
"Timothy? Is something there?" Lucien asked, though his voice sounded very far away to Tim as he lowered his bow and put his arrow back in its quiver to free up one hand. 
"This... This word," Tim murmured as his gaze focused completely on three strange jagged letters. "I think... I know this word..." The letters seemed to glow invitingly on the stone wall as he traced the jagged marks with his fingertips. "Fff... Uuu...Sss... Fus?" Tim drew his back as the chanting suddenly stopped, and there was nothing but the sound of the cave around him. He glanced around himself and at the rest of the writing on the wall, but none of the other letters made any sense to him.
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"I didn't know you could read dragon language script." Lucien said curiously.
Tim looked back at him, clearly confused. "I... I can't. I mean... I've never see this language before in my life."
Lucien took a closer look at the three-letter word Tim had been drawn to on the wall. "But you read this one?"
"The word is 'Fus,'" Tim admitted. "I think... it means 'Force'?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a sudden headache. "But I don't know how I know that." 
Lucien looked between the word wall and Tim and then back again. "Don't worry about it right now. I'll take some notes and try to write down all these glyphs in my journal before we leave. I think the library in the museum may have a book or two on how to translate dragon language text. We can study this at our leisure once we're done exploring the Barrow. Why don't you look around for that Dragonstone you came here for? This may take me awhile."
As Lucien pulled out his journal and pencil again, Tim turned to the altar itself. There were a couple of tables, pottery, and a large chest. He began to fish around for his lockpicks. If the Dragonstone was anywhere, it was probably in that chest.
Suddenly, the top of what he thought was a table exploded upward and off the altar. It wasn't a table at all, but a coffin! The lockpicks were instantly forgotten and Tim grabbed an arrow instead. "Lucien! Draugr!" he yelled as he fired an arrow at the undead creature as he tried to backpedal away from it.
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Tim fired a couple more arrows at the draugr, but this one seemed stronger than the others they'd fought earlier. Lucien tried cast a fire spell on the draugr, but suddenly the creature opened its mouth and...
"FUS.. RO... DA!" it shouted at Lucien and Tim. An invisible but strong pulse slammed into them both. Lucien was knocked off his feet and Tim just barely held his ground. 
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In the end, the lack of intelligence the draugr seemed to possess was how they won the day. Rather than focus on Tim, who was still armed and partially upright, the draugr turns its full attention on Lucien, who was still recovering from being knocked back to the ground. Before the creature could get to Lucien, Tim lined up one more arrow on the monster and sent it flying. The projectile struck the draugr straight in the middle of its chest and down it finally went, the light fading from its eyes.
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"Lucien! Are you alright?" Tim rushed over to check on the scholar.
"Go on an expedition to Skyrim, they said." Lucien grumbled sarcastically as he held his head while getting to his feet. "It'll be fun, they said." He pulled out a healing potion and drained it like a shot. "There won't be any horrible Ancient Nordic zombies, they said." Lucien leaned heavily against the wall with a sigh.
Tim looked at him for a moment in silence, then started laughing. 
Lucien looked at him like he'd gone completely off his rocker. "Are you... laughing at me?"
Tim shook his head as he calmed down and wiped some tears that had escaped his eyes with his hand. "No. No. It's just..." He snickered as he tried to get a hold of himself. "Things have been so bad lately, and I honestly wasn't sure we were going to make it, but we're still alive." Tim sat down on the ground next to Lucien and leaned against the wall. "I'm just so relieved."
Lucien sighed went over the examine the draugr more closely. "True. that was quite the battle. Slightly terrifying. Glad we didn't die. Oh! And look," The scholar found something attached to the draugr's armor. He pried it off and offered it to Tim. "Now you have a fancy rock!"
Tim took the stone and examined it curiously. On one side was what looked like a map of Skyrim with specific locations marked off with stars. On the other side was text in that same dragon script as on the wall, though this time Tim couldn't read any of it. "I guess this is the Dragonstone..."
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***
The pair rested for a bit before finally moving onward. Lucien finished taking several pages of notes about the draugr, altar, and word wall. He also made a couple of rubbings of the Dragonstone for his own research. Tim in the meantime picked the lock of the chest and found it quite full of treasure. Septims, jewels, armor, and even an enchanted weapon. Once their bags were loaded up with all that they could carry without injuring themselves, they followed a stairwell and a path that eventually, finally led them out of the Bleak Falls Barrow and back into the wilds of Skyrim without any trouble at all.
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-------------------------
Warning: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.
Note1: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.
Note2: And so ends Lucien and Tim's first excursion into a draugr-infested dungeon. Rest assured, it will not be their last.
Writing out this dungeon crawl took a lot longer than I had anticipated, but I think I'm quite happy I was able to record my adventure with Tim and Lucien in this fashion in Skyrim!
I can't wait to write more things between Tim and Luci as they become even better friends!
#elder scrolls dc#fanfiction#tim drake#skyrim fanfiction#batfam fanfic#red robin#batfam#crossover#lucien flavius#wip#afewnovelideas
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jinmukangwrites · 5 years
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Reflex
Prompt
Last queued fic before I return! Rejoice! Can't wait to be back!!!
Kudos to @spacemalarkey for the idea that Hyrule and Wild are bff's and credit to them for the nicknames they call each other. Those two boys are definitely two peas in a pod. Love you Linni 💛
-o-o-o-o-
It doesn't happen all the time. Wild is very observant and is constantly aware of everything all the time, even while sleeping. He can wake to the smallest noise and instantly process what's going on and who stepped on that twig or what touched his leg. He can usually stop himself from lunging for his sword or swinging his fist. He gets better at it too after Calamity Ganon is defeated and he learns to relax and live at the castle.
When he joins the other heroes on a journey he gets bad at it again. For the first week of traveling he had to constantly chant in his head that no one there will attack him, that he can sleep, that he can turn his back, and if they snuck up on him it isn't because of an intent to kill, just an intent to speak, to communicate, to bond. He gets used to it. He trusts them. It isn't a problem.
Until it is a problem.
They've been traveling without stopping for about two days now and it's killing everyone's self control. They don't know where they are or where they're heading and everyone just wants to sleep, but there's something following them. Multiple somethings. Every time they think they're safe a monster will jump out and commence battle and more monsters will keep arriving until they decide to retreat.
Exhausted. Wild has ever been this exhausted.
The trees all look the same and he wonders if they've even traveled at all in the last hour. And to think he had thought his Hyrule was the big one… and he knows this one isn't his. It's probably no one's. It's probably not even Hyrule at all for what they know. He wishes they could stop and rest, just for ten minutes, and it's not usually like him to wish that. Sky would, Wind would, Four sometimes, and Legend would be next. Not Wild. All he has ever known was the trail, the next move, how many hours it would take to get to the next campfire.
Never before has he just wanted to sleep instead of travel.
There's a constant anxiety sitting at the back of his skull and pulling at his eyebrows. His mouth is dry and his skin feels clammy. Miserable. He's miserable.
Yet, he doesn't complain, because he can see that everyone else are just as miserable. Time has bags under his eyes, Four's gaze is lax and faraway, Sky looks a hair's breadth away from collapsing, Warrior doesn't seem to care anymore about not dragging his feet, Hyrule has sweat dripping off his chin, Legend's face is red from the sun, Wind has to be dragged along by Twilight's hand lest he falls behind. He won't complain. He won't.
He won't...
They travel in silence, walking like ReDead's to nowhere, stumbling and staring ahead towards nothing. They would continue to do that too, but Wind suddenly faints.
"Shit," Twilight curses and with arms shaking from exhaustion, he grabs Wind before his body can hit the ground. He lowers the youngest to the ground and everyone starts forward to check if Wind is okay.
He's not. None of them are.
"He's dehydrated," Warrior says as he kneels down next to Wind and Twilight, "and the heat…"
"Will a fairy help?" Time asks and Warrior glares up at him.
"Sleep will. Water. Rest."
Time makes a very familiar face and Wild resists groaning before he turns away and leans against a tree. He glares into the forest, waiting for some sort of monster to jump out at them again.
"Maybe we put enough distance for a short break," Twilight suggests.
"Or we'll let the monsters come right to us once again," Time growls.
Wild sighs, he can hardly keep his eyes open.
"At this point, it's either the monsters or exhaustion that kills us," Legend says under his breath, but everyone hears it. An uneasy silence falls on the group as that happy bit of information settles over them like a moth eaten wool blanket.
"Ten minutes…" Time finally says, "we stay here for ten minutes and then we're going again. Try to wake him up… carrying him will waste energy."
-o-o-o-o-
Wind thankfully wakes back up a couple minutes later. He gratefully takes some water and just lays on the ground, eyes half lidded as the rest of the group take turns taking one minute naps and keeping watch. Every snap of a twig sets Wild on edge and he finds he can't sleep at all despite the bone tiredness consuming his every thought.
He leans against a tree with his limbs limp. A small black bug crawls along his his pants and he just stares at it, trying to focus on something other than the leaves rustling wrong or the squirrel that keeps throwing nuts and pebbles on the ground. Something simple. Something that can't be mistaken as evil.
He doesn't realize how far he goes into this trance, watching that simple black bug that has never had any fear in it's life. Its never had to worry about Calamity Ganon, it has never wondered all night long if a Yiga Clan member would sneak up while it slept and slice it's throat, it hasn't felt the weight of every one of its species lives on its shoulders.
He gets so lost watching the sun glint off it's onyx body that when something alive touches his shoulder, he doesn't think. He doesn't question. He just whips his hand down to the dagger strapped to his thigh and swings it around at the perfect angle to stab the attacker in the neck.
He recognizes Hyrule too late. His body is moving and there's no stopping it no matter how loud his mind screams no. It's too late. He's going to kill his best friend. He's going to stab his neck all because he's paranoid and exhausted and-
Pain shoots up his wrist as Hyrule unflinchingly blocks the dagger with his own. Wild hisses and drops his weapon and Hyrule simply sighs and smiles.
"H-how?" Wild breathes. There's conversation coming from the others. None of them has noticed that Wild just tried to kill one of their own.
"You're not the only one on edge," Hyrule says, smirking slightly, making him look a little ragged and edgy when combined with his tangled hair and the bags under his eyes. "I knew you were going to lash out, which is why I volunteered to get your attention."
Wild just stares at him wide eyed and Hyrule chuckles softly to himself as he sits down besides Wild. He brushes the bug off from Wild's pants and watches it scatter away with sharp eyes.
"Don't think I haven't noticed you holding yourself back whenever you're startled. You're always fighting that urge, that fear."
"How do you know?"
Hyrule lets out a breath of air and folds his arms across his chest. "Takes on to know one. You and I are travelers, the rest of them grew up in safety while you and I have only known danger and where the next meal is going to come from." He glances at Wild and flashes his teeth. "Took me forever to stop trying to stab Zelda whenever she startled me."
"How'd you do it?" Wild finds himself asking.
Hyrule huffs and picks at a blade of grass. "Meditation, breathing. I can teach you some methods if you want. Helps calm your brain down, realize that you're okay."
Wild chuckles slightly and yawns, reminding him of his tiredness. "Yeah, well, we aren't exactly okay right now."
"Actually, we've been here for thirty minutes and nothing has happened," Hyrule says and Wild lifts his eyebrows in surprise. He hasn't even realized there was a passage of time. "Yeah, Four realized that he recognizes where we are, we must have switched worlds again."
"So all that traveling… is over?"
"Yup," Hyrule says. He groans and pushes himself to his feet, then holds out his hand, friendly, welcoming. "For now. C'mon. I know some breathing techniques that will help you fall asleep. No nightmares, I swear. "
"I'll take you up on that offer, Magic Man," Wild replies, grinning.
"Oh shut up, Mr Survival."
Wild takes his hand.
-o-o-o-o-
@linkeduniverse
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nofearofwaves · 4 years
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Some Rise of Skywalker Thoughts
Everything is a spoiler, so click through at your own risk.
I left The Last Jedi with tears in my eyes. I cried in the bathroom at the theater. But they were good tears. Luke Skywalker’s death hit me hard, but his arc felt complete. It felt right. It felt like his death, like Vader’s, was a true redemption. It felt like it mattered.
Rise of Skywalker is not worthy of Luke’s death. Rise of Skywalker is a soulless bait-and-switch that gives us nothing Star Wars hasn’t given us before, when it was in the perfect position to give us redemption by life and living.
I will start with some positives. This is not going to be a complete review; I don’t know if I’ll ever care enough about RoS to actually review it.
Lando was fun, as, unlike some of the original cast, he wasn’t overbearing and he actually looked like he was having fun.
Leia’s stuff was more extensive than I thought it would be. It’s awkward because it’s franken-footage, but it does give her much-needed closure; more on that later.
Rey gets her own saber, at last. Of course, only right at the end and we don’t see her building it and it’s not a saberstaff, but it’s something.
Rey, Finn, and Poe share a lot of screen time, which is fun. Of course, it only drives home how little of that we’ve had in the trilogy thus far. TLJ’s major misstep for me was that it didn’t include enough of this found-family dynamic.
Some of Kylo Ren’s early dialogue is precisely the romantic, purply-prose stuff that I go for. Dark proposals and all. Good stuff.
Some of the alien worlds, designs, and prosthetics were cool. Unfortunately, there was also a heavier percentage of CGI stuff that was distracting, especially when juxtaposed with the overwhelming use of practical effects from earlier films.
Several of the fight scenes are good, though nothing can compare with the snowy woods fight and the throne room fight of previous movies. I have seen critics praising the visuals of this movie, but they were altogether too fast, enormous, and choppy for me.
Some of the comedic beats, especially including C-3PO, are legit funny.
And now, the shitshow.
Rey Palpatine. Dear God, why? I understand some people were disappointed by TLJ’s reveal of Rey Nobody, but I thought that was genius. Why does legacy matter? The Force belongs to everybody, as it should. Rey being powerful doesn’t matter; unlike Kylo, who is crushed by his legacy, she is freed by the lack of it.
I can’t even explain how cheesy this becomes. There’s a long, long, long sequence with Palpatine tempting her into killing him while shadows of all the other Sith ghosts stand in stadium seating and chanting, and it’s so damn cheesy and bombastic. I could watch the temptation scenes from Return of the Jedi over and over again because Palpatine is so oily and the whole scene is so intimate and quiet and you are watching Luke see and imagine his friends’ deaths from a distance and ugh, this movie doesn’t have the slightest shadow of that and it thinks it does. 
Also, Rey is literally never tempted to join him. She hates him in a vague kind of way because, it’s revealed, he killed her parents, but she relinquishes that very early and only agrees to kill him(?) to buy time for Kylo to reach her.
Palpatine’s motivation also changes about three times. 
He wants Kylo to kill Rey, because, as Kylo says, he’s afraid of her supplanting him.
But no! Palpatine wants her to kill him because then she’ll inherit the legacy of the Sith, even if her heart isn’t in it and she doesn’t hate while she does it. Very confusing.
And last! When he cannot turn her, he settles instead for draining the life from her and Ben, a “dyad in the Force”, which revives him.
On that point, uh, couldn’t he just have done that from the start anyway? He’s clearly not opposed to coming back to full power. Why not just drain Rey and be done with it?
Ben Solo, who is truly Ben Solo by the end, dies. He gives Rey a kiss of life, after fighting through his Knights to get to her, and dies. The last Skywalker is dead, and though Rey “rises” in their place, the Skywalkers are over and Palpatine killed them. As he always wanted to.
So much for the big stuff. Let me end with some small, nitpicky things that bugged me:
All the deaths, save Ben’s, are undone. There’s a truly shocking moment where Rey thinks her unhinged power has killed Chewie, but no! He’s on another transport. C-3PO agrees to a memory wipe to get some vital information out of his head? Undone when he sees R2, who has been backing up his memory this whole time. If you’re gonna walk back a death, at least give it some time. How else are we supposed to feel anything otherwise?
Where was ROSE?! They tease her coming along on the trio’s mission and she says she has to stay back for Leia’s sake, but then they don’t do anything with that. She’s just not on the mission because reasons, and the most interesting character from TLJ is now out of the story. Because reasons.
Poe’s sudden backstory that gets no payoff and only exists to give him all the skills he needs at any given point. Now with more romantic baggage from a woman’s face we never see!
The Knights of Ren, given huge visual weight in the first third of the movie, just disappear until Kylo fights them right at the end, in a scene that could have been a callback to the TLJ throne room fight except everything is bad and boring. None of them speak, even to tell them why they’re suddenly cool with betraying Kylo, their master. None of them seems even vaguely troubled by killing him, even though literally no one has asked them to.
Finn wants to tell Rey something. We all know what it is. He never says it. It is brought up several times, with increasingly frustrating effects.
There are more, but I’m tired. I’m tired, tired, tired of putting my love and thought and energy into a story that betrays me. I’m over death as redemption. I’m over hearing that people can never come back from the evil they’ve done. I’m sick of it, y’all. 
I can deal with tragedy. But it has to make sense, it has to. This isn’t real life, where bad things happen and we don’t know why and we can’t stop it. This is fiction. I want sacrifices to matter, I want closure.
They said this ending was about hope, that it was hopeful. But God, I just can’t see it.
And now, I will erase the memory of this movie from my databanks forever, and try to resist the urge to rewrite the entire sequel trilogy because, good God, a monkey with a typewriter could do better than this.
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foulsouls · 4 years
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My blood is in your veins 18+
Lost boys AU ( sorta? Kinda? It’s vampires and hunters idk haha!! ) featuring all your fav Demon slayer characters! I do not intend to post the full fic on tumblr because it will be long as hell and I am lazy! 
I’m going to be posting the first chapter here just to test the waters hehe! If you like to read the full fic you can find it on AO3! ( Under the same name of course! Also I’m ushisushi over there! ) My laptop will not let me do links GUYGFUHGHGHGBH!!! Anyways, please enjoy!! 
                                       Chapter 1 HOME On the road again. 
It feels like every other month is started with yet another surprise road trip across the country, leaving behind any friends you may have had in whatever tiny backwater town you happened to land in. Any sane person would’ve given up on making friends with this lifestyle but you weren’t exactly known for being the giving up type. 
Your ever changing living arrangements were due to your older brother’s “Job”. The very same job that he refuses to tell you or your younger brother anything about. You’d tried a million times to get any info from him but unfortunately Kyojuro was just as stubborn, if not more, than you. Poor Senjuro found himself the piggy in the middle when you and Kyo would get into your bi-monthly “What is your job!?” arguments, which always led to you getting the horribly intimidating “We’re not talking about this again” look from your older brother, and that ended with you silently fuming for half the trip and ignoring poor Sen’s attempts at trying to make you laugh. 
You didn’t mean to be such a hard head, but no one could deny that being made to pack up your life several times in a year and move to some new town off the beaten track and have to build something new again would be enough to make anyone a  teensy bit grumpy! Especially since you were almost never given a solid answer as to why any of this was necessary, you felt you were allowed a little tantrum here and there. Although, you also had to admit that your little spats had increased a great deal over the last few months. Kyo barely gave you enough time to figure out where the damn toilet was in your new house before he decided you needed to pack up and head out once again. 
 Again you found yourself haughtily staring out the car window at the scenery rapidly speeding by, having just finished your latest argument with Kyo. Senjuro was relaying a funny story about waking up in the middle of the night and getting lost in the house you had been living in just a few hours ago, his laugh was cute but obviously forced as he came to the conclusion of his story and nobody else had joined in on the laughter. You snuck a glance in kyojuro’s direction but of course his posture and expression gave nothing away, despite having had a verbal tiff just a few minutes ago with you. Your brother was always so disciplined, his body language, his speech and even the way he ate his food was all heavily practised. He was a good man who loved you and Senjuro more than anything, even though you weren’t related by blood to the two of them you had never felt like you didn’t belong.  
Maybe you should apologize first this time? It was always you that started the arguments but Kyojuro was always the first to say sorry. You realize you’ve completely zoned out when you hear Kyo pointedly clear his throat and catch his eye as he gives you a quick glance. You’ve been staring at him this whole time, probably giving him a particularly sour expression judging by the furrow of his brows. You fumble over the words in your head,  your throat suddenly incredibly dry. You open and close your mouth several times, making stupid little sounds as you go, gesturing like a madman to boot! GOD! Why was being the bigger person so embarrassing?   
Calming your breathing you sit up straight in your seat, miming the way your breath entered and exited your lungs,mentally cheering yourself on, just say the words! I! am! sorry!  
You chant the words over and over again like a mantra in your mind. 
Kyojuro waits patiently for you to gather yourself, a small amused smirk on his face. He was more mature than you by far but seeing you flounder like that was still incredibly funny.  He watched you square your shoulders and he knew right when that same determined look that crossed your face before you did something you weren't supposed to graced your features that you were ready to say whatever it was you wanted to say.  
“Kyo I’m-” 
“Sorry?” he finished for you. 
The look of pure shock on your face was enough to send Kyojuro into a fit of laughter. You felt your cheeks burn with shame as he continued to laugh and occasionally snort, of course that ass knew exactly what you were going to say and in a big brotherly fashion, OF COURSE he’d cut you off and then promptly laugh at your stupid face. His laugh was always so hearty and full of amusement, you couldn’t help but crack a smile too. When Kyojuro turned to you again you could see small tears in his eyes, he gave you his signature big bro smile before reaching over and ruffling your hair, much to your dismay.  
 “Ugh don’t ruin my hair damn you!” you laugh, shoving away his hand. 
“Sorry kit, you’re too easy to read sometimes.” Kyojuro chuckles at the way you puff your cheeks and pout at him.  
“Y-yeah whatever…..look I really am sorry for being annoying……..again.” you mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear. 
Kyojuro sighs and wipes his eyes, you look to him and see something you thought to be damn near impossible, his shoulders are slightly slumped. The smile on his face when he looks to you is sad, even his eyes seem to have lost nearly all the amusement they held mere moments ago.
Now it seems it’s his turn to fumble for words as he glares at the road in front of you through the windshield. 
“Kit…..Senjuro…” 
Ah, the serious big brother voice. You cast a backwards look at Sen, who appears equally perturbed by Kyojuro’s sudden change in demeanour. 
“I know this is a pain in the ass for the both of you, I do,” he continues, staring intently at the highway that seemed to stretch on forever into the horizon, “but just know that one day I’ll be able to tell you guys everything and…”. 
Kyo sighs heavily once again, it’s pretty clear that he isn’t going to continue what he was saying but you can’t help but lean in a little. It’s always so strange to see someone you look up to appear so ...fragile. Right now, Kyojuro looks like a man beaten down by the world  instead of the spry 27 year old you know he is. Kyo spares one last tired smile in your direction,when he turns back to the road  it's like the tired old man is gone and your bright, ever enthusiastic big brother is back. 
“Welp! Enough of that! Look we’re almost there, I can see the ocean!”  
Senjuro practically dives out of his seatbelt to stick his head between the two front seats and peer through the windshield. 
“Oh!! I see it too! Kit look! Look!” Sen’s excitement and incessant patting of your shoulder shakes you from your thoughts. 
Through the dust and bug guts you can make out the tiniest hint of a shoreline and beyond that is the gorgeous blue of the ocean. Senjuro’s small hand on your shoulder gives you a gentle squeeze and when you turn your head to look at him he gives an adorable little smile. Poor boy, he really is the piggy in the middle here but he’s trying his best. 
You let your gaze wander back to the waves, slowly crashing in the distance, you can’t hear them yet but you feel something strangely familiar about this scene before you.
Home.  
I’m home.  
Something about those words send a chill up your spine but you dismiss it, at least for now. Right now it was time to say hello to your new little town and mentally prepare yourself for whatever this little corner of the world had in store for you. 
Oh boy does this little town have something in store for you.  
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