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elioslover · 2 years

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Grapejuice (fic) Part One

Premise: Harry has been pining over Y/n - his best friends slightly older sister - for as long as he can remember. But she still refuses to see him as anything other than her brothers goofy obnoxious bestie omg omg loads of pining and sexual tension (even more sexy sex) and ofc angsty angst.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Smutty suggestions, drug/alcohol use, mind-blowing banter.

Part Two / Part Three

Fashion Board

Masterlist

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The soft thumps of music muffled behind the apartment door were audible the moment you reached the last step of your ascent, arriving on the third floor of the new apartment block your brother, Jack, had recently moved into. It was sweet of him to wait until you were back in town before hosting the house-warming party.

You stopped briefly, taking one final look in the grand, gold-framed mirror- touching up your cherry gloss as an afterthought. The building was impressive- completely out of your price range, and quite a statement buying the penthouse- well you thought so anyway, but as you had reminded yourself, at least it wasn’t your money.

The hallway was empty, aside from a small hardwood table, elegantly decorated with a vase of marvellous, and surprisinglyrealwhite lilies. At the end of the lengthy passageway- walls tiled in deep ocean green, marbled floors- was an elevator, complete with an old-school golden gate, and totally unnecessary.

“Just take the bloody stairs” you mumbled, approaching the front door.

You had hardly knocked once before the heavy wood swung open, your brother- cheeks rosy, eyes glassy but glimmering- was standing on the other side.

He let out a sort-of cheer, arms raising before he fully engulfed you, lifting you off of your feet. You had seen him only a month ago, but if he had had it his way, Jack would have you both remain attached at the hip- as you had been almost your entire lives.

He put you back down, pressing a brisk kiss to your forehead and thanking you for coming,

“It really wouldn’t have been the same without you here,” he said, slinging an arm loosely across your shoulder, pulling you into the entrance hall of his…penthouse.

Your eyes were darting across the room, taking in the style, size and of course judging his choice of paintings- hung on almost every available wall. Jack led you through the house, giving a half-hearted house tour on your way to the kitchen.

It was by far your favourite room so far, decorated in pale baby blue with white cabinets and an island that was, perhaps the size of your entire kitchen put together. Nevertheless, it was the bar that really caught your attention- though it was barely visible under an array of what looked like crystal-glasses, a variety of expensive bottles and fresh-cut fruit.

Before you had even fully stepped into the kitchen, your brother was whisked away by the mention of the delivery guy arriving. “Make yourself at home,” he called over his shoulder, and without hesitation you made your way over to the countertop, fixed on the idea of a G & T complete with those irresistible blueberries.

You had all but finished the final touches on your mix, humming along to a familiar song spilling through the speakers- when the sudden warmth of something- no- someone’s breath on the back of your neck sent contradicting goosebumps up your arms and spine.

“Fancy seeing you here”, his voice was deep and familiar, fresh mint filling your senses.

He leaned into you slightly, bringing you to your senses. You intended to remain unbothered, going back to garnishing your drink with juicy berries. You took a lengthy sip, closing your eyes momentarily before turning around to face him.

He took a small step back in order to see you better, letting his gaze flicker shamelessly over you, taking a second to admire the way you looked,

“I could say the same about you” the mere sound of your voice drew his attention back, a cheeky smile growing wider by the second,

“Is this the part where you make fun of my lifestyle? Y’know, rag on me about drinking too much… smoking too much…. fucking…” he was beaming proudly now, eyes never leaving yours in anticipation,

“…too much? I would never,” you feigned disapproval, adding an eyeroll as you took another sip of your drink, hummed with satisfaction.

He tilted his head back with a slight chuckle, the corners of his eyes creasing with pleasure,

“Oh, how I missed this,” he teased, “Always good to see you, Y/n” he meant that part.

“Likewise, Harry” you tended to your drink once more.

He mimicked, taking a long sip of the glass of scotch wrapped firmly in his hand and you took the opportunity to actually take him in. He had been dressing better lately, and thank god for that you had thought. Harry had even started to impress you with certain ensembles- not that you would ever make him aware of that.

He wore a tight, but comfy burnt orange and purple tee-shirt. He paired it with a pair of low-rise, faded denim jeans that flared at the calves, and were rather well-fitted. His classic trademark of several rings decorated his hands, and a gold, tennis-link necklace lay across his chest.

He looked good. Annoyingly so.

It had become one of the things you dreaded about coming home- the confusing thoughts plaguing your clarity over the last couple years was well, sheer madness. What had he done differently to his hair? It suited him, short overall but slightly longer at the top, styled up and out of his face. It framed his eyes... his jawbone… his entire face really.

None of this made him any less annoying though, which was the only saving grace. You feared what would have already happened between you two otherwise.

Harry was your brothers oldest, and best friend- they met the afternoon your family moved next door to the Styles’ and the two had instantly bonded over their love for football. And even now, though they lived very different and separate lives, they were as close as ever- annoyingly close. Unfortunately for you this meant dealing with your brother- times two- and there was rarely an occasion where Harry didn’t turn up at one point or another.

Though he was terribly sweet, the Harry from your childhood lacked a filter, and had far too much energy to spare. You were only a few years older than them, but Harry seemed to have no off-switch, and it was hard not to engage in trivial arguments with him. Jack was no help either, always encouraging and taking pleasure in seeing you get so riled up.

When you got older things had changed slightly, and Harry was far less insufferable than before- though he still showered you in attention, most of it stirring the same negative reaction you expressed as a child.

To make matters worse, Harry had never kept quiet about his attraction for you. You were his best friends’ hot older sister after all. In Harry’s opinion, you got prettier each year- and he rather enjoyed making sure you knew this. And you always responded the same, with a scoff and an eyeroll.

Your thoughts had already started to wander and you were somewhat grateful Harry broke the short silence before you could continue,

“How long have you been back in town?”

“Since Sunday,” you swallowed another sip of your drink.

His brows furrowed slightly, “Jack didn’t mention you were back.”

You shrugged his statement off, “Speaking of Jack, I have my reservations but overall, I do quite enjoy the apartment,” his slight furrow warped into raised curiosity, “though I can’t imagine the size makes sense for one person” you added as an afterthought.

“Then it’s a good thing he isn’t living alone,” he said simply.

It was your turn to let your brows furrow, motioning for him to elaborate.

“I’m living here too. There’s three bedrooms, it made sense,” he shrugged before sipping his beer.

You straightened up, “And I assume you stay here when you aren’t out galivanting across Europe, or LA or whatever?” you were being testy.

He placed his hand over his heart, “Ouch klutz, you know it hurts me when you trivialise my profession,” he was only half joking.

You rolled your eyes, “Well don’t take it to heart, apparently Jack doesn’t tell either of us much.”

Harry was full of mixed emotions - he had been from the moment he stumbled upon you in the kitchen, your back to him. He almost walked straight past you, stopping in his tracks the moments those familiar custom black and white Docs adorning your feet caught his attention.

His frustration only grew when he finally got a proper look at you. You wore straight-legged black jeans that you paired with an abstract black and white knitted sweater. A couple silver chains lay across your neck- they matched perfectly with the pair of large, hooped earrings and bracelets you wore.

Your hair was pinned away from your face, lest a few loose strands. Harry liked you this way, he could see your face with clarity, and he was certain you were nothing short of beautiful. Your lips were slick and glossy from the remnants of gin and tonic, and they looked awfully tasty.

Longing was mixed with confusion now, disappointed that he felt so ill-equipped in your presence, completely unaware of your attendance this evening. Harry’s mind was beginning to race, thinking about all of the things he could have- would have done differently. For starters he might have put more than two minutes into picking out an outfit. A sudden wave of insecurity flushed over him and he was praying you wouldn’t notice.

Any sign of confidence had momentarily dissipated, and Harry felt like a foolish teenager all over again, hopelessly pining over a woman who hardly ever paid him any attention.

He was more than grateful that Jack chose that very moment to reappear, going on about how the delivery guy had attempted to short-change him, before he grabbed a new bottle of beer and took a large gulp. Within a moment Jack was mid-discussion with you about his experience in the new neighbourhood so far.

Harry tried his hardest to keep his gaze from focusing on your features, letting his eyes roam the many familiar faces of guests nearby. But he faltered several times, settling on the way your eyelashes fluttered, or how the chunky ring on your thumb fit you just right.

He was so distracted he almost missed Jack asking him if he had heard what had just been said, for the second time now, mind you.

“I was saying it completely slipped my mind- forgot to even mention Y/n would be visiting this week.”

Harry mustered up a scoff before finishing off the last of his drink,

“Absolutely guttered over it, honestly mate” Harry feigned disappointment while glancing over at you,

“You know the ache in my heart for Y/n needs to be soothed, it’s simply selfish you would attempt to keep us apart.”

Jack only let out a bellowing laugh and nudged your shoulder with his own.

Though you found Harry more than attractive, you were also aware that the same thoughts always followed your admiration, you still saw him as your baby brothers’ best friend, goofy yet cocky, but all bark and no bite- surely.

The idea of him being a compatible lover was to a large degree, incomprehensible. Nevertheless, you did thoroughly enjoy Harry, at times, grateful that age had brough him more stability than just good looks.

“Oh, but Harry, as I’ve told you on numerous occasions, you would hardly be able to handle me.” You were playful, familiar teasing, but some truth still rang through.

His face changed, and then his stature followed suit. He leaned forward, his voice deepening, and his gaze remaining on you and you alone,

“I think we both know that’s not true.” And there he was again, as annoying, and full of cheek as ever.

Your eyes quickly darted over to Jack, his attention already straying elsewhere, then you turned your attention back to Harry, scoffing but working hard to remain unbothered.

“Well, uh, this is my… cue to mingle… I guess,” you nodded in their general direction before turning on your heels, leaving Harry with the same view of your back as before.

🍷

Harry remembers the first shot, and the second, but things were becoming less coherent after the third and fourth. He had a habit of overthinking these days, somewhere between the last breakup and the new album release, it had become far too easy for his thoughts to start spiralling- and by cruel repetition, you were once again the reason for his head being a million miles away from this party.

Speaking of, Harry had yet to see you again since your brief encounter in the kitchen- granted this is where Harry had remained the entire evening so far. He assumed you had to return, eventually, for a drink top-up, at the least.

He let the tequila slosh in his mouth for a moment before allowing it to burn its way down his throat. Still in his own head, no plans of leaving any time soon.

“Harry!” he could hear Jack calling from somewhere in the apartment.

He began following in the general direction, stepping into the crowded living room. Jack’s face lit up in an instant, pushing gently past a few people to get to him.

“Hey, where did you disappear to?” he asked, but hardly gave pause for Harry to respond before he was guiding the two of them through the mass of people out towards the balcony.

At first, he was resistant, but that was soon replaced with a hundred different feelings all at once when he spotted that you were already outside, your back leaning against the balcony’s railing- a Marlboro perched neatly between two fingers.

He was indulging in the idea of you once more, thinking back to the several fantasies he had always so ambitiously cast you as the main character in. You were always so cool, so calm, and collected, and well-defined. He had wanted to be more like you, to be with you.

Harry had always looked at you like he knew your secret- like he was somehow aware of how naughty your really were- hiding under the sly juxtaposition of a hard-working, put-together, golden-child. He could hardly recall this version of you nowadays, after the things he had heard you say- to him and about him.

Harry was more than grateful that Jack had already started walking towards you, giving him the needed excuse to speak to you again. He was hardly subtle with the way he was looking at you, so much so that you felt the need to draw attention to the man standing beside you.

Had he always been standing there?

Harry hardly flinched though, and if he had felt some type of way about it, he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he took another step forward before directing you,

“Looks like some things never change,” he knew you weren’t fond of his constant referencing of the past.

“Fuck off,” You responded with an eyeroll, taking a drag as he continued,

“You’re the splitting image- I mean minus the septum piercing, and the douchey boyfriend… well…” he glanced briefly, but noticeably at the blandly dressed guy still lingering by your side.

“Fuck you,” your tone was still playful though.

“Yeah? Been on my mind since I can remember.”

“Bet?”

“On my life,” he was careless with the wink he directed at you.

Harry would be lying if he said the thought of you being disinterested in him still crossed his mind, you were clearly humouring someone else this evening. The man next to you looked to be older than Harry, and like he worked some preppy nine-to-five. Surely nothing that could possibly catch your interest.

You were full of personality, intrigued and interested in so many things – Harry often accepted he could hardly keep up with you, but he was still certain the two of you had potential -not including the things he would let you do to him should you pay him even the slightest bit of attention.

He wanted to make a move, he always wanted to- but you were so beyond his reach- older and completely unwilling to acknowledge the fact that yes, he may still be irksome, but he was definitely not a young boy anymore.

Harry no longer wanted to get under your skin, but he would gladly settle to at least get under your garments. He was certain that if you were to, for just a moment, entertain the idea of you and him, he was sure to change your mind.

The guy to the left of you was particularly unmemorable, at least in your opinion, but it was better than standing and smoking alone. And you knew the tiniest part of you had been relieved, but only because you were aware it would annoy Harry - and you took almost any opportunity to do such.

Harry- who you hadn’t seen the entire evening - and don’t think you hadn’t acknowledged how bizarre it was of you to even notice that.

Naturally, you could and would never go looking for him- what reason would you even have to talk to him?

Nevertheless, you reached over and passed him your cigarette, an old habit that only registered when he met you in the middle, accepting your offer in a heartbeat.

Harry could hardly forget your little routine of bumming smokes together, hiding behind walls and bushes, afraid someone would catch you two in the act. There was a mutual sense of mischief and fondness- it was a time Harry could say with certainty that you definitely enjoyed his company- even seeking him out before sneaking through the back door, always ensuring he was by your side.

Everything about this evening was so out-of-character, from how calm Harry was - usually so full of boyishness fuelled by alcohol- down to how attractive you found it when a thick cloud of smoke slipped past his puckered lips, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion- what the fuck was happening?

You definitely needed another drink, suddenly remembering the half-empty bottle of Cirocque your date had pinched from the kitchen long before starting a conversation with you.

You had long forgotten the need for a glass and were already on your third sip, careful not to let any of the expensive liquid slip past your lips.

“Classy” Harry all but scoffed.

You stopped, the bottle leaving your lips with a soft squeak,

“Suddenly you don’t enjoy the idea of me being sloppy?”

You didn’t even bother looking at him, moving instinctively closer to Nick... was that his name? If Harry had wanted to say something he didn’t, thoughts of you being sloppy, slobbering for him were far too much to ignore.

Jack was filling the awkward silence by asking your ‘company’ several questions, which to Harry’s dismay, Nick was rather eager to answer.

“I actually bumped into her tonight, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to strike up a conversation, and thankfully she didn’t seem to mind,” he laughed, but it oozed gawkiness, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted towards you looking for confirmation.

You forced a soft laugh but felt nothing for the man in general, he was good looking enough, and money probably wasn’t an issue for him, but saying you found him boring would have been an understatement.

Still, Harry was quick to resume irking you. He got under your skin in almost an instant, and you were always left a frustrated mess. He opened his mouth, ready to share a snarky remark, when the guy’s phone started ringing. He apologised briefly before stepping aside- but not before saying- and Harry couldn’t believe it,

“Ex-squeeze me for a moment.”

Your eyes went wide with the ick, and Harry was hardly subtle when he giggled and stole the empty space next to you.

Harry shifted to face you, meeting your side-profile before stating matter-of-factly,

“I couldn’t imagine you putting up with that kind of boredom, you should quit while you’re ahead.”

“And what exactly does your opinion have to do with anything? Considering you can’t speak from experience,” you huffed.

“Not from a lack of trying-”

“-but rather from my lack of interest,” you finished for him.

Harry was grateful that Jack had lost interest the minute it looked like you guys were starting to squabble, he wasn’t even facing you anymore.

“Think you’re missing out though.” Harry was uncertain about almost everything in life, but not about the idea of being with you.

“Have we not had this conversation before? And didn’t it end with me saying something like, ‘No Harry, I’m not interested in one measly round of missionary that leaves me nothing but dissatisfied.’”

Harry wanted to disagree, to give you a vivid idea of the things he would do to you right now just to prove you wrong- he would ensure he fucked you so good there could be no round two. But he knew that wasn’t the way to go about things.

Instead, he simply said,

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions.”

You rolled your eyes, and stood up straight now, turning to him sternly,

“For your sake, I surely hope assuming is as good as the real thing,” tapping his chest condescendingly before you turned on your heels and headed back inside the party and away from Harry.

🍷

You hadn’t seen Harry so moody in years. He seemed to have no interest in partaking in the ongoing festivities. In fact, he was brooding in the corner of the kitchen, back pressed firmly against the wall. He was deep in thought, brows furrowed, jaw slightly clenched.

His hair was starting to look slightly dishevelled, from all the times he had ran his hands through it. He was looking good though. You decided he would look perfect underneath you, or perhaps even looking up at you.

But you quickly, and aggressively, shook your head, trying to eradicate these inappropriate thoughts, almost scolding yourself aloud before quickly accepting a tequila from an old schoolmate you had been catching up with in the kitchen.

You called out for Jack, looking at the shot glass sitting on the countertop filled to the brim. You were starting to feel good- really good, buzzing slightly. That familiar playfulness you always felt after indulging in vices was making its appearance.

When he failed to respond, you only shrugged before taking the shooter on his behalf, tossing it back with little regard before turning to look back at the living room, eyes finding their way back to Harry- who was still brooding in the corner all alone.

Without coherent rationality you found yourself heading towards the bathroom having to pass him in the process.

Maybe you did enjoy the attention Harry gave you- or perhaps this was just another attempt to reciprocate the frustration he had left you with just earlier.

As you began past him, you slowed to a complete halt- his head snapping up, the surprise evident on his features as two of your icy fingers reached up and hooked themselves onto the collar of his shirt. You tugged it down and to the side- exposing part of his collarbone and bird tattoo. With one finger, you gently tapped his skin twice before releasing the shirt altogether,

“Hm,” your gaze slowly lifted and met his- he was too scared to blink. You leaned forward,

“Swallows,” you paused and thought about it for a moment,

“Your tattoos and I have that in common.”

You didn’t wait to see his response, stepping back and heading towards the bathroom. His skin felt scorched in their wake.

Harry was stunned, naturally, his thoughts in an absolute frenzy. He had been angry, actually upset after you had belittled him so effortlessly just earlier- this evening was quickly turning nightmarish. And now, you were teasing him- taunting him, actually. Harry hadn’t stopped thinking about you the entire evening. Why was he so fixated? This couldn’t be healthy.

He hadn’t - and didn’t feel this way about any of the other women in his life. There was just something about you. He liked you. Always had. Harry had a feeling there was still more to you and he had the aching desire to find out.

He had been back home for a while now, so focused on his album that his personal life had ended up on the backburner without a second thought. Tonight, in the comfort of his new home he could no longer ignore his thoughts veering astray. Particularly the thoughts entailing your thighs, bare and wrapped around his waist.

He stood there for a moment, your words swirling around, getting louder until he could hear nothing *but your sweet, sweet voice. And though you were probably just fucking with him, Harry was no longer thinking clearly – a man on a mission as he left his spot by the wall and followed after you.

You were just stepping back into the passage when you spotted Harry walking toward you with what looked like determination- and possibly certainty. He was just feet away from you within an instant, and you hardly had a second to comprehend before he pressed his chest to yours- pushing you back softly into the silver and white wallpaper.

You looked up, gasping as he pinned you between his arms, both hands pressed against the wall just above your shoulders. His face was closer to yours than ever before and your eyes darted back and forth, studying his soft frown, forehead crinkling, and brows furrowed. His frustration was blatant, but the lustful sparkle in his eyes was unmistakable.

“What-” you started but Harry was quick to cut you off, leaning that much closer,

“-give me a chance,” it came out in one breath, fanning across your face.

You blinked back. He was incredulous. This was worst-case-scenario- you had been avoiding this type of interaction the entire night, and with one sentence you had thrown it all down the drain. And now here he was, so close. His chest pressed against yours, leg slotted between yours, brushing against your skin, breathing fast, and heavy, he smelled good, and looked better.

The fluttering in your stomach was unfamiliar- intrigued and excited. You wondered what exactly he had in mind if you were to in fact give him a chance. Something told you that there was more to him; that he might be anything but all-talk. The way he looked at you, how filthy he spoke to you, even the way he touched you when permitted.

You were concerned about losing control, leaning into him, touching him- but concern wasn’t enough when you slung your arm around his neck, nails scratching the base of his neck. Harry’s eyes dropped, head tilting closer, your foreheads brushing.

His words still echoing, “give me a chance, give me a chance.”

“I said, I don’t think you could handle-” you tried,

“-I think you’re bullshit,” he interrupted, and you let out a soft gasp,

“That’s mean,” your other arm linking around his shoulders,

“You’re mean,” he muttered just above your ear, before a soft kiss was pressed below your lobe,

“Matter of opinion,” you sighed, raking your nails along his jaw,

“I disagree,” a chaste kiss to your jaw,

“You always do,” thumb sliding along his bottom lip,

Harry dropped his arm, hand coming up to hold the side of your jaw, tilting you upward until you were blinking up at him. He had never seen you like this before; it felt so natural and surreal, seconds away from rectifying the last twenty plus years.

You were ready to meet him in the middle, shutting out everything that wasn’t him. You were at his mercy, foolishly waiting on edge for him to finally kiss you. His thumb copied yours, brushing against your lip before slipping slightly into your mouth, grazing your teeth.

You rose off of your heels, leaning up to impatiently close the gap, his hands moving to cup your face- he was looking at you lazily, lips slick, plump and puckered just for you,

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered,

“No.”

“Please?” so softly, your eyes fluttering shut - when out of nowhere,

“Harry?” it came from far at first, but was quickly followed by another, “Harry!”

It was Jack- drunk and loud- bellowing from the kitchen and heading straight for the hallway.

As if you had been set alight, you removed your arms and gave Harry a harsh shove until he stumbled back and looked at you with a mix of sheer shock and confusion. Before he could speak, Jacked turned the corner and cheered,

“I found you!” he was drunker than when either of you last saw him, stumbling around, eyes barely open.

Harry was so startled and full of disappointment he could barely comprehend. He was seconds away from kissing you- and now, when he glanced your way, you were a blushing mess, averting eye contact, arms wrapped firmly across your chest.

He managed to come to a stop, leaning his shoulder and head against the wall,

“I’m so sleepy, have I spent enough time mingling? Can I go to bed without saying goodnight? I don’t think anyone would care and I mean, like I said, I’m really tired.”

Jack was pouting and the eyeroll Harry sent his way could hardly convey his annoyance.

It was then that you coughed softly, Harry’s head snapping your direction in an instant,

“Good plan. I think I should get going anyway, been a long day,” you shrugged, looking anywhere but in Harry’s direction.

You were mortified- and you weren’t sure if it was because of Jack, or Harry. Either way you were still fully to blame, and it was time to make a run for it. You could feel Harry’s unwavering gaze, so strong it made you ache with awkwardness.

Jack nodded along, head droopier, eyes drowsier, “Y/n, you rock!”

“Facts.” You chuckled.

“True rock n’ roller babyyyy!” he sung out, and it seems both you and Harry took that as a cue,

“Alright Jack let’s get you to bed,” Harry took him by the shoulder, taking one last longing look at you. You glanced up for a brief moment, eyes wide. And then you were mumbling your goodbye’s and heading for the front door.

As the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it and let out the longest sigh, pressing your face into your hands, pushing harder and harder, forcing all fuzziness to disappear. The embarrassment was seeping from your everywhere, and worse- you knew you would have to see him again.

🍷

Jack had not stopped moaning and groaning from the minute you both sat down across from one another. The breeze directs the sun’s glare directly above the table, and whilst you are most grateful for this marvellous weather, Jack does not seem to agree. Though, you could chalk that up to the hangover he was currently nursing.

You two had made plans for a brunch catch-up after the housewarming, but apparently you had failed to consider that your brother was obviously still a man-child. Did he need three-to-five workdays to recover?

After all these years, you would have hoped that Jack might have learned to handle his liquor, swap a few tequilas for a sip of water. He truly was a baby, looking devoid of sleep, hair sticking up in all directions, and after what felt like the millionth grunt, you finally looked up from your phone,

“Dude. It’s already midday. Is this going to be another one of those full day recoveries? Because we are not teens anymore; I am no longer obligated to take care of you-“

Harry interrupted your train of thought as he seemed to pop-up out of nowhere, towering over you and stealing the sun in the process. He’s sporting a chunky-knitted sweater, the black tank top peeking out matches his flared pants and boots. He looks cosy.

But he is soaking up all the warmth, stealing it for his own, peering down at you, green eyes half-hidden behind his ray-bans.

“For the love of god, sit down already.” You groaned, wrapping your favourite blue, corduroy overcoat across your chest as a small shiver took over your arms.

Harry chuckled, looking at you curiously as he slid out a chair and sat himself down next to Jack- who whined meekly when his and Harry’s elbows briefly touched.

“Christ. What is with you two today? Is this a Y/L/N thing?” he was amused, settling back further into his seat, removing his shades, and running a hand lazily through his hair.

Jack, whose head was now resting directly on the table, lifted up slightly and attempted to get out a coherent sentence,

“M’just alitt wreckddd is’all…” he tried.

Harry looked at him incredulously, turning to you with a smile so wide it reached his eyes. And he looked warm- warm and snug and somehow radiating an energy that quickly became contagious. It made you smile softly, and then you were chuckling along, happy be in his company.

“Last time you mix drinks, huh Jack?”

He whined once more.

Harry shifted towards you, elbows stretching out across the table, he let his stare linger for a moment longer than you both knew was necessary. You felt hot under his gaze, observed and uncomfortable with the sudden shift of attention. But before you could settle into this unfamiliar feeling, he sent a swift wink your way.

“See something you like?” your brows arched.

“More than,” Harry nodded in satisfaction. “I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with people I just like.”

Now you were red in the face for another reason, eyes desperately darting over to see if Jack heard, unsurprised to find that he was almost fast asleep.

And you hope your eyeroll and lack of response will come off as a tactical choice- Harry didn’t need to know how he made you feel. Flustered and confused.

“Did you have fun at your little housewarming?” you attempted to deflect.

He nodded, “My favourite part was when you were about to let me kiss you… pity about the interruption,” eyes glancing over at Jack’s sleepy figure.

Now you were blushing for sure, steam threatening to spill from your ears and nostrils. You couldn’t have regretted coming home more than in this moment.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you. Interruption or not.”

“I believe otherwise.”

“I believe otherwise about your believing of otherwise” you huffed out quickly, brows furrowed.

Harry laughed fetchingly, arms sliding across the table until they were almost bumping your own. His stare was unwavering,

“You’re in such denial. If it weren’t so painful, I’d find it that much more endearing”

“All I heard was endearing.”

“Well, you are,” he leaned closer, “extremely endearing.”

Before you had a moment to react, Harry brought his hand down against the table, startling Jack awake. They looked at each other sternly before Jack scoffed,

“Dick.”

You took the final sip of your coffee before turning towards the two men; Jack was a sight for sore eyes, and if you spend any longer around Harry, your head might explode in confusion.

“Jack is it safe to assume we won’t be going to the market anymore?” you barely finished before he started protesting. Typical.

“Market?” Harry interjected?

“Some little art thingy Y/n heard about”

“On 4th street” your eyes rolled.

“Sounds fun” Harry shrugged.

“That’s what I thought” you mimicked.

Jack was already standing up when he got a bright idea,

“Harry, why don’t you go with Y/n? Let me get some damn sleep while she talks your ear off.”

You were a mess of protests, assuring them both that there was really no need. But Harry seemed married to the idea.

“Sounds perfect. 4th street you said?” Jack nodded.

“Really Harry, it’s not necessary- “you tried but he only shushed you,

“-Don’t worry sweets, I’ll gladly let you talk my ear off.” Winking, he joined as you all stood from the table and regrouped outside the entrance.

After a brief goodbye, Jack started heading home. And within a minute, Harry had wrapped his warm palm around yours, tugging you forward until you stumbled into line with him.

“It’s close by, lets walk.”

Harry didn’t even look your way as he moved you both forward, weaving past cars and a woman walking her Labrador. You take two steps at a time, trying desperately to keep up as you both made it safely across the road.

“Harry- “you tried, losing your footing for a moment as he powered forward, “For fuck’s sake Harry, slow down.”

He stopped abruptly, his back creating a wall for your chest to bump into.

Harry didn’t say anything when you protested, didn’t let go of your hand as he started walking forward again. He took small steps, making sure you were able to keep up with him.

Your hand felt warm and smothered within his, a fireball sparking and crackling between your palms; ready to set off an explosion that may swallow your head and heart whole. You try to focus on otherwise, taking notice of the shop windows blurring past.

Harry squeezed your hand gently, bringing your gaze to his, “Let’s go here.” he motioned towards a little bakery stand, guiding you both to the warm glass protecting a sweet collection of muffins, cookies, pastries galore.

He refused to let you go as he caught the attention of the server, “Everything smells so good!” he complimented her before continuing, “Could we please get a couple custard slices and a chocolate croissant?”

Your heart leapt as she nodded along enthusiastically and began bagging the pastries, turns out your croissant-obsession was so strong even Harry had caught on.

Nevertheless, you gazed up at him curiously, and he only smiled back sweetly before finally releasing you from his grip, fishing into his pocket for his wallet.

Your hand missed his- and you hated that, dismissing the thought completely as he handed you the warm paper bag; the sweet smell of fresh pastry had you almost burying your face forward, and Harry laughed, motioning you back towards the bustling street.

You were already stuck into the croissant, flakes fluttering everywhere- some even settling on your chin. Harry noticed you were no longer keeping up, looking over his shoulder before halting completely. You caught up; eyes still glued to your pastry, and you barely even noticed him, continuing forward- and now he had to take a long stride to catch up.

He was eyeing you intently as you devoured the remains, crumpling up the bag with a satisfied sigh. You hadn’t noticed his gaze, turning absentmindedly,

“What?” Your brow raised quizzically, using the back of your hand to dust off any excess crumbs.

“Nothing,” he mused, “you’re cute, is all.”

“Stop.” You huffed. Thankfully, the two of you had finally reached 4th street and there were stalls set up everywhere, bright colours of multiple mediums decorating the walls, the streets- the people.

Harry stopped next to you, unnecessarily leaning against you,

“Wow.” He sighed, “This is… amazing.”

You nodded along, “haven’t been to one of these in years.”

He looked over curiously, “Used to come to these things often?”

“Whenever I had the chance, yeah” you made your way to a stand nearby, getting lost in several lino-print’s, deep blue’s melting into mustard yellows and burnt orange. Harry joined you, leaning forward to get a better look.

After a few moments, you turned your attention to another stand displaying bold psychedelic canvases, varying in shapes and sizes. They were so beautiful, telling thousands of stories all at once. Harry was peering over your shoulder, studying the blotches of colour with deep curiosity.

“This one… is so… interesting.” He pointed slightly, eyes never leaving the artwork. Harry was often quick to forget the other arts. Music was now full-on lifestyle and left little time for much else these days.

“Hm,” you replied curiously, continuing to scan the other pieces.

Eventually, Harry stepped away, starting to head towards a stand further down the street. Clay ashtrays, figurines, jewellery, and other accessories decorated the table, and by the time you had caught up, he was already in the middle of purchasing several necklaces and bracelets ranging from royal blue to candy red.

“I like this one,” you pointed to a lime green bracelet, peeking out of the other beads strewn across his palm.

“I do too,” he agreed with a large grin.

You waited for Harry’s new purchases to be paid for and placed into a paper bag. He bumped his hip into yours, motioning for you both to continue down the street.

Harry was keeping as close as possible, ensuring his arm brushed your shoulder with every opportunity. As you turned the corner onto another street, and before you could hold yourself back, you were power walking towards a stall displaying, what you would later refer to as, a masterpiece.

Considering you were often surrounded by art; it wasn’t often that a piece had you this fixated. Harry had never seen you so engrossed in something- few had.

And Harry was patient as you observed, taking your time asking the artist questions- throwing around words that sounded so foreign to him, it only made you that much more attractive, seeing you in your element.

When you were finally content, you said a sweet goodbye, and gestured Harry to continue on down the street. A comfortable silence often fell neatly between the two of you, every now and then pointing out something, asking for one another’s opinion, preference.

“How’s work?” he asked,

“Loving it, actually. I was kinda nervous the job would be as trash as the one I had here…” you really hadn’t enjoyed the hustle-and-bustle of being smack-dab in the metropolitan area. Every other person was a cut-throat, a cry-baby, or just a complete asshole. It had drained almost every ounce of your passion and drive, if you had stayed a moment longer you were sure to have slipped into another bough of melancholy.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said genuinely- Harry had hated seeing you so stressed, always seeming on the brink of tears.

“I liked the new album, by the way.” that sparked his attention,

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Don’t let it get to your head now,” you were teasing, but wanted to make sure he knew you were being genuine, “I liked it- I loved it.”

🍷

Harry was now running late, in his own home, spending an excessive amount of time deciding between which of two shirts to wear. As soon as he had settled on a loose, black cotton button up - which he had left partly-unbuttoned and had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows – he immediately decided to change his pants and shoes.

After slipping into his new silk, embroidered-lavender slacks, he paired the outfit with shiny, point-tipped black boots. Harry was putting on the last of his jewellery and spritzing his favourite cologne while the music droned through the gaps under his door- the number of voices growing by the minute.

Harry found himself rather nervous, palms threatening to clam up as he thought about seeing you again. He knew these feelings he was having were getting out of hand. He hadn’t been in such close contact with you in years- the last time was possibly after you graduated college.

And back then, you were wrapped up in your then-relationship, dragging him along to all events. Harry was sure he had only seen you on one occasion without them. It was an important night for him- when you two were temporarily alone again.

He was sure he was in love with you back then. You consumed his every waking thought. Harry would, and did, do anything to be near you – to make you laugh, to pick your brain, sometimes just to be in your presence.

Then life hurled forward, days turned to weeks, and suddenly it was at least a year before he saw you again. You had since abandoned your relationship- and were about to ditch your home and career here in London. Harry saw you a couple weeks before you left- he didn’t have to persuade you much when he offered to come over with Jack to help box up your apartment.

But by then, he was already hot in the middle of making albums and touring arenas, he couldn’t designate the time to properly mourn your departure. It only occurred to him that you were no longer home when he came back after the band’s final tour.

Every now and then he’d hear updates or see a few photos courtesy of your mom and Jack. For a moment his heartrate would pick up, thoughts becoming a jumbled mess – what does your new home look like? What do you do in your spare time? Are you having fun?

And now here you were with all your friends, celebrating being a decade older, in his house. If he thought about it too long, his nausea would resurface. All Harry could do now was take one final look in the mirror before leaving his room, making his way towards the party.

He couldn’t believe how many guests had already arrived – had he really spent that long getting ready? A small sea of people had already formed, mid-conversations, mixing drinks, having a smoke on the balcony.

His eyes scanned the room, acknowledging people he knew as he searched desperately for you. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure if you had even arrived yet.

He was about to give up and head over to the bar when he spotted something sparkly bobbing behind a group of people near the door to the balcony. He followed the shimmers, greeting guests as he wove through them. He stopped at the glass door.

Harry’s head, as well as his heart, had melted into a puddle as his gaze landed on you, leaning against the balcony with a cigarette perched between your cherry-gloss lips.

He couldn’t hear over the thumping in his head, the only thing comprehensible was how incredible you looked. Which was an understatement of note.

You had chosen an extremely well-fitted, watermelon pink dress. It settled neatly across your upper thighs, cinching in at the waist, white frill accentuating your cleavage and connecting to two delicate bows that worked as straps strewn across your shoulders.

You had swapped out your docs for a pair of white, latex boots (each with a hot pink heart) stopping just above your ankles, as well as white fishnet stockings.

And to top it all off, your head adorned some sort of princess tiara covered in sparkly glitter- the beacon that had just led Harry directly to you.

Harry still hadn’t moved when Jack, who he hadn’t even noticed was standing beside you, caught his attention. And as soon as Jack lit up with eagerness, your focus shifted too, almost dropping your cigarette as you sent a wide grin his way- eyes beaming with excitement.

“Haaarryyy!” you enthused, arms waving as you did a little hip wiggle.

Harry felt like he had just stepped into a fever dream. But he was quick to reciprocate, matching your grin as he made his way over.

You were bouncing on your toes, and he had barely come to a halt before you lurched forward, flinging your arms around his shoulders for a boisterous, but doting embrace. Harry’s arms wrapped around your upper back, pulling you close, stumbling, and living for the sound of your giggles.

“Happy birthday, klutz.” He said in a sing-song tone, rocking you back and forth.

You pulled away, singing back a sweet “thank you” before leaning up to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Harry prayed it was too dark out- hoped you wouldn’t notice the way his face turned so red.

And you didn’t, bouncing from heel to heel back to your spot next to Jack. You picked up and sipped at a drink that was almost spilling from your glass, and as your lips met the sweet liquid your eyes widened with something else in mind.

“Shots.” You stated seriously but couldn’t help it as you began smiling mischievously.

“Shots!” Jack matched your energy and suddenly Harry was reminded that you and your brother were a deadly combination.

Usually, it was you who would end up responsible for reeling Jack and Harry in when they got too rowdy- chasing after them in a weak attempt to corral their belligerent bodies into whatever vehicle was on standby. But courtesy of making it another trip around the sun, you were two steps ahead of the boys, slipping past friends who all took turns attempting to halt you for a chat.

By the time the two men had caught up, you were already lining up four luminous shot glasses- they hadn’t noticed Nova [one of your nearest and dearest friends from school] had already joined you. The two of you were now chatting away, paying no mind as Jack took over the shot-dispensing duty.

In between enthusiastic exchanges, Harry greeted Nova and managed to get in a few catch-up questions before you completely distracted her with something so out of context he didn’t bother trying to keep up.

Thankfully it wasn’t long before a glass of Don Julio was being passed his way, your fingers brushing against his in the process.

Before anyone even attempted to take a sip, Jack was calling everyone to a holt, “We have to toast!” and everyone groaned. But he was unphased,

“Despite being the greatest pain in my ass, you’re also the greatest person I’ve ever known. You’re a real grown-up now, shithead, and I can’t wait to see what thirty has in store for you.”

You pouted sweetly, eyes bashful as your three friends started saying cheers, clinking their tequilas together. Harry tapped his glass against yours, seconds away from lifting it to his lips-

“Hey, hey- “you scolded, and he held back any panic, “You have to look each other in the eye before you cheers.”

Harry smiled in relief, locking your gaze as he brought his glass back to yours,

“Definitely don’t want seven years of bad sex,”

He sent a wink your way as your glasses separated, tilting his head back, swallowing quickly.

“Especially when you’re finally back in town.”

Jack spotted Mitch and Adam mingling nearby, quicky motioning them over. Harry wanted to keep talking to you though, his mind hadn’t strayed from you, nor had his gaze. But you were all amped-up, swaying from side-to-side, cheesy grin, eyes crinkling as you reacted to something Nova said.

Thankfully, Harry was gifted with an opportunity when Jack suddenly realised Nova hadn’t yet met the other guys. He called her over, leaving you leaning across the bar, perched on your elbows.

“Care for a drink, senorita?” your ears perked up at that, Harry was already pretending to roll up his sleeves, gently bumping his hip with yours. You turned, leaning your back against the counter now as Harry reached over and grabbed a cocktail glass. He got to work, grabbing an assortment of drinks and ingredients and you found your eyes wandering to his arms and hands.

Harry must have felt you staring, looking over at you in between mixing ice and some pink concoction,

“You look incredible, by the way,” he busied himself, grabbing different utensils, glancing back to reaffirm his statement.

“You reckon?” standing up straight, you did a good job doing a little show for him, making sure he got a good view of all the frills and your figure.

He stopped in his tracks and nodded profusely, “Incredible. Definitely designer right?”

“You’ll die,” you stepped closer, straight-faced. He waited,

“Lacroix, ’91. From their spring collection.”

Harry was impressed, excited to finish off this marvellous drink with raspberries and strawberries,

“Christ. What did you do to get your hands on it?”

“Sold my soul.”

“To the Devil?”

“No, her name was actually Giovanna- bitchy creative director from Milan. Love her to death.”

Harry found you more endearing by the second. He added a finishing touch of white sugar, turning to you proudly, his creation on display,

“Voila! Special birthday cocktail for the special birthday girl.”

“Ooh! It’s pretty,” you marvelled,

“Matches your dress,” he pointed out as he placed the drink in your hand.

You took a sip, eyes widening in delight. It was simply delicious, and you couldn’t be sure if Harry had even known what he was doing when he made it.

“This is incredible,” you whined, taking another long sip, “Do I taste watermelon?”

“And litchi, with vodka- which I recall is a personal favourite of yours,” he had hit the nail on the head, naturally.

“Thanks Harry,” you said sweetly, “I don’t think I’ve tasted anything so good.”

Your eyes widened in an instant, as did his, and you were more than thankful when he chose to substitute a snide comment with a cheeky smirk and wink.

Nova returned to your side, making a few remarks about how sweet Adam seems, asking Harry where he was from. She suddenly remembered something and excitedly tapped you, almost causing your drink to spill.

“- She’s here? No ways! I haven’t seen her since the debauchery of Nina’s baby-shower” you enthused, eyes hastily shifting around the room for this so-called friend, gasping softly when you spotted her in the near distance.

With eagerness you wrapped your hand around Nova’s, dragging her off into the crowd. Harry turned his attention to Mitch and Adam- who had already struck up a conversation - only catching a glimpse of your back disappearing amongst the guests.

Harry was starting to feel frustrated; confusion and longing were swirling around his head with such fervour it was moments away from eating him alive. It was time for him to make a conscious effort to stop thinking about you and to start enjoying the party in honour of… well, you.

But he was determined, fixing himself a straight scotch, sloshing it back before quickly refilling and joining in the heated football debate that was escalating by the minute.

🍷

With your absence, Harry found himself mingling with people he hadn’t seen in years – some of these exchanges even being rather pleasant. He was on drink three, Jack seemed to be on at least double that. Speaking of Jack, he had been itching for a cigarette, his favourite drunken-accessory, and Harry gladly followed him out- finally feeling relaxed and frankly, almost buzzing.

The balcony, though large, was crowded. The air was perfect, spring in full swing. To his surprise, Harry spotted two empty chairs off to the side, dragging Jack along. They were going back-and-forth, trying to figure out the names of several guests.

“I think our twelfth-grade English teacher is here, what was his name?” Jack clicked his fingers searching his thoughts for the right answer, “Mister… I wanna say Twat?” he pondered, “No, that can’t be it… Twatman?”.

“Watman. Mr. Watman.” Harry scoffed, “I’m surprised you remembered him to begin with. I don’t recall you attending a single class.”

“You’re just jealous I was skipping class to make-out with cheerleaders.”

“Which cheerleaders?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

Harry lips parted to respond, his head snapping instantly at the sound of your melodic voice bellowing across the balcony. You were on your own, a small, abstract clutch in one hand, and now you were bounding over, calling out,

“I was wondering where you were.”

Harry wasn’t sure who of the two you was addressing, but his heart couldn’t help but jump at the possibility that you may have been seeking him out after all.

You stopped before them, scanning your surroundings before suddenly, and shamelessly, you plopped yourself down horizontally across Harry’s lap. In utter shock, he peered over at Jack who not only ignored the fact but sparked up a conversation.

“Do you remember that strange professor? Taught year twelve English lit, I think.”

You thought about it, further settling into Harry’s lap, paying zero attention to him as you began unzipping and searching through your clutch. You pulled out a dainty container of weed, blunt-wrap, and a tube of cherry lip gloss,

“Yeah, yeah. Twatman right?”

“See, Harry!” Jack exclaimed, pointing your way.

But Harry’s head was miles away, his entire body heating up, your skin burning against his thighs. Every time you moved, breathed- he had to calm his own, but he was more than thankful for the permanent view of your side profile- cute nose and all. You started rolling, telling Jack some bizarre information about their old teacher. You both theorized about a secret relationship, while Harry sat idly by, adamant on being your ideal chair.

It was only a couple minutes later when you finished up, poking your tongue out as you ran it across the length of the joint. You could feel Harry’s eyes on you, choosing to ignore them as you returned to your clutch to fish out a lighter.

You crossed one leg over the other, adjusting and taking subtle notice of Harry’s squeamishness before placing the joint between your lips, starting to light up.

Harry’s head was foggy for two reasons now, a thick cloud of smoke leaving your lips and fanning out across his unsuspecting face. He blinked back a few times, trying hard to maintain stillness. After taking another quick drag, you leaned forward, thighs momentarily pressing further into Harry’s as you passed the joint over to Jack.

The joint had barely touched his lips before Jack was coughing and spluttering, eyes watering as he hunched forward and put his hand across his forehead.

“Jesus, Y/n- “he was trying to laugh but it came out sounding like a failed-beatboxer, “-fucking strong. Where did you get this?” he attempted to swallow residual coughs as he stretched over and handed the joint back to you.

“Same place I usually get it,” you paused and took a lengthy drag, sharply inhaling before letting the smoke slip through your lips,

“Purple haze. She gave me extra courtesy of the big three-oh.”

“Seems your senior citizen discount has already come in handy,” Jack mused, still holding back from coughing.

“Get fucked,” you huffed, turning your attention to Harry, who instantly felt hot under the collar,

“Still up to no good?” your lips turning upward as you gestured to the joint perched between your fingers.

Harry nodded up at you, his doe-eyes blinking bashfully. With that, you lifted your hand and as he parted his plump lips, you slotted the joint between them. Your fingers brushed against his chin, nails grazing his lips as you held him in place, letting him take a lengthy inhale as your eyes trained the freckles scattered across his face.

Up close, he looked soft, and raw - your eyes felt like they had turned into magnifying glasses, noting the stubble scattered across his chin, the crinkles between his focused-brow, the stray curls slipping across his forehead- and before you could stop yourself, you had concluded that he was beautiful, and that denying your attraction for him was at this point, futile.

He looked up at you through his thick, fluttering lashes, leaning back slightly and you pulled your hand away, bringing the joint back to your own lips. You were still looking at Harry intently when the corner of his eyes crinkled, his lips parting to expose a pearly grin,

“See something you like?” he asked.

And you did your very best to remain unphased, inhaling sharply before you tilted towards him, speaking just above a whisper,

“I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with people I just like.”

Your voice mocked his deep and slow tone, taking pleasure in exaggerating each and every syllable.

Harry gulped. You pushed the joint towards him, and he bent forward- more than necessary- gladly accepting anything you had to offer. His head was still swirling, convinced you were emitting a vibrant glow, aiming it directly at him.

Harry bravely tapped his fingers along your shin, feeling lulled and content. You had fully relaxed now, leaning your shoulder against his,

“Having fun, birthday girl?”

“Yes sir,” you rested your head- just barely touching his shoulder,

Harry must have been dreaming- stoned and hallucinating, either way he let his hands trail up and down your leg, tapping his foot side-to-side, humming almost inaudibly.

And then in the blink of an eye, you were standing up, leaving him cold and longing once more. You looked over at Jack who had finished coughing and was now staring directly up at the sky. His eyes were darting back-and-forth, acknowledging each star.

You let the joint slip from your fingers, using the toe of your boot to put it out,

“Well boys, I’m off to get a refill,” you tapped Harry’s shoulder gently,

“Glad you can still keep up.”

He looked over at Jack - who was still looking up – and without a word, Harry was out of his seat, hot on your trails. If tonight had taught him anything it was that you were quick on your feet, already at the bar as you scanned the scatter of bottles.

Before he could announce his presence, you turned to him briefly in acknowledgement, “do you still have that photo album I made for your eighteenth?”

“Random.” He said curiously, watching as you turned back and continued examining the bottles.

“I know,” you nodded your back still to him, “I saw a bunch of albums in the living room, just wondered if you still had it.”

Harry thought about it for a second, “I do.”

Thousands of memories flooding back to him, “It’s in my room actually.”

“Is this a just ploy to get me alone?” You turned to fully face him now, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Yes.” He teased sternly.

You nodded, turned, and grabbed an unopened bottle of 1982 Bordeaux, and motioned towards the direction of the bedrooms,

“Lead the way.”

You stayed close, following Harry down the hallway to the foot of his door. It was already ajar, and he used his foot to push it open fully, flicking on the light switch before stepping aside to welcome you in. You took a couple steps forward before he shut the door and walked off in search of the album.

You took in the room, pleasantly overwhelmed by how much it still screamed Harry. You remembered his last room and even spotted his old record player, his rustic bookshelf, a framed poster of Doctor Frankenfurter, and of course his first guitar- dinged-up and faded- just the way you liked it.

Harry was shuffling through one of the draws of his dressing table, his back to you, as you crouched down and began unzipping your boots. The carpet beneath your fishnets was thick, white, and fluffy- and before you could help yourself, you were now fully sitting down, legs crossed, arms working to remove the bottles cork.

Harry cheered softly as he found what he was looking for, grabbing the album- blue, with a hand-painted portrait of himself on the cover. When he turned and noticed your current position, he slipped off his own shoes and plopped down across from you, crossing his legs.

He dropped the album between the two of you, pairing a cheery, “ta-da” with jazz hands.

You did a little dance- what you could manage from your position- as the cork finally popped off and you took a swift swig before passing it to Harry.

He gladly accepted, and as the bottle reached his lips, Harry suddenly acknowledged the situation he was currently in. nerves rushing in from all directions, and he took an extra couple sips on account.

You were already flipping through the first few pages, grinning sweetly, and pausing to take a better look at some of the pictures. Harry was looking too, but mostly at you. He liked how you focused, how fondly you smiled, and he was only seconds away from getting caught staring.

“Oh god, do you remember this day?” you leaned forward, fingers tracing a photo of Harry dressed as a cowboy, sporting a fake moustache, and aiming a water gun at the camera. He nodded fondly, reminding you that shortly after the picture was taken, you threw up all over a rosebush- fully dressed as a brothel-lady - bonnet, and all.

With that, you flipped the page with haste, scanning some of the others, stopping to think- sometimes to reminisce. And then you came across the one picture Harry would have traded the world for. The two of you were sat on a couch, your legs draped across the armrest, your head Harry’s lap. The sun was setting, creating a silhouette of the perfect tableau. It was the beginning of one of his favourite evenings to date. Whoever took the photo hadn’t stuck around, the most important part of this memory was that it was just you two- an anomaly.

Before he could stop himself, Harry pointed down at the photo, “This one is my favourite.”

You followed his hand, looking down intently at the little moment caught on film,

“We drank so much wine that night,” you giggled fondly, careful not to give any feelings you may have harboured away.

“You sang,” He said,

“For you,” you emphasised,

“For me.” He nodded.

A silence settled and Harry took another sip, remembering your twirls, drinking, spilling from the bottle, the way your hair fell, the way he felt. The night way playing out on super speed, too many moments jumbling together, and then he couldn’t stop the blush from rushing to his cheeks,

“Oh god. I danced. A lot.” He remembered the moves far too well.

How could you forget? He was clumsy on his feet, creating a brand-new style. And he was so off-beat, no rhythm, moving any which way as long as it caused you some sort of reaction- preferably an endearing laugh, which you were of course currently doing,

“Yeah, you danced a lot.” You smiled innocently, “For me.”

“For you.”

Harry caught your gaze, the air between you thick with tension and lust. He wanted crawl right on over, grab your face and smother you in kisses. And the way you were looking back at him, Harry was almost convinced you might actually want him to do that too.

Neither moved, hardly blinked, and you were so hot under the collar it was torturous. You felt completely trapped, losing all self-control and about to slink straight into his lap. In sheer panic, you turned back to the album, flipping through pages at a time.

There was a photo of Harry, Jack, and an old friend of theirs from school. They were dressed in football attire, getting ready for a match.

“Oh, I remember this guy. Andy, right?” you taunted, glancing up to gauge his reaction,

Harry couldn’t stop his jaw from clenching, eyes rolling.

“He was cute,” you tried, “Didn’t he have a thing for me?”

Harry scoffed. Of course Andy had fancied you- Harry almost lost his mind every time he made any comments expressing crudeness or adoration for you. He had bitten his tongue so many times it was habitual when he found himself doing it now.

He still hadn’t spoken, you were fascinated as his pupils dilated, angst creeping up across his features. You took another sip of the wine, eyeing him before pushing once more,

“Maybe I should have given him a chance…”

Harry barely let you finish, “He couldn’t’ve handled it.”

You laughed harshly, absolutely amused, and horrifyingly, extremely enticed. So, you uncrossed your legs, splaying them out in front of you, toes tapping his crossed ankles,

“You really think you -”

“- Yes.” He finished for you.

In your opinion, his certainty was the most attractive thing he had ever done. He suddenly wrapped his hands around your ankles and gently tugged you forward.

You let out a small gasp as your bum slid forward, Harry unravelling his legs, all the while dragging you further into his grasp. You were lured straight into his lap, naturally wrapping your legs around his waist, settling atop his hips.

You were face-to-face now, chest-to-chest, and his hands came to rest on your waist. His breath was warm, eyes oozing with intention as your hand lazily draped across his shoulder, fingers finding their way to his hair.

“I don’t believe you,” you muttered.

“I’ll make you,” he persuaded, hand sliding up to rest on your lower back.

You were on the brink of total surrender, leaning closer until your noses were brushing, his other hand leaving your waist to cup your jaw, securing around your throat.

“Prove it,” you gave in.

Harry felt his stomach flip, holding back the urge to shove his tongue down your throat. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then another to the corner of your mouth. He took his time, enjoying the way his lips sparked against your soft skin.

And then he kissed you- just barely. So lightly you barely felt it.

He pulled back for a moment, bringing his other hand up to hold your face in place. Planting a soft kiss, and another, and another, and then he finally kissed you- properly.

You were eager to reciprocate, tugging him as close as possible, kissing him with such fervour it could have convinced Harry that this was something you had spent twenty years anticipating.

Your lips detached, and Harry was quick to start scattering sloppy smooches up-and-down your neck. Nibbling and sucking now-and-then, dragging you further into his hold.

It wasn’t until you purposely pressed yourself down against his lap - desperate to ease some of this friction – when you suddenly came to your senses. Before he could kiss you once more, you went still, eyes opening to look at him in shock.

Harry stopped, eyeing you cautiously as you unravelled yourself, leaning back bashfully.

“We should get back to the party,” you suggested, scared to speak above a whisper.

Harry played it cool, nodding along as you climbed out of his lap, following suit until you were now both standing face-to-face.

Neither made any attempts to move, you watched him, shamelessly. Trying to figure out your next move, how to act, how to respond.

Suddenly Harry’s eyes lit up, surprisingly sending a wave of relief rushing through you.

“I got you something, for your birthday obviously.” He didn’t wait for your reaction, walking over to his bed before crouching down to reach for something hidden beneath.

You were eyeing him curiously as he started to reveal this surprise. The moment you caught a glance of what it was- that familiar blend of whites and purples, the abstract scatter of shapes and lines, the same feeling you felt the first time you saw the painting.

Your heart caused your ears to ring, a swell of emotions- aghast, amazed, admiration- and you were quick to realise that those feelings were for Harry.

He had barely finished revealing the artwork, not even fully standing straight as you came bounding over, causing him to drop what he was doing, only moments before you were grabbing his cheek, tugging him to meet your lips as you pressed against him with a blend of aggression and adamance.

He had no time to react, hands instinctively wrapping you up, pulling you into him, grabbing at whatever you would let him.

In a haze of needy kisses, he gently pushed you back until your bumped right into his dressing table.

You were tugging at his hair, making sure he stayed close. With your help, he used one arm to wrap around the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly until you were sat atop the table.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist in an instant, linking your ankles, tugging him closer. Harry was holding back a long overdue moan, hands on your jaw. You pulled back for a breath, taking in him- lusty, dishevelled, eager.

He reached up and gently removed your birthday crown, tossing it over his shoulder, and then his hands dropped to your shoulders, leaning down to press kisses to your collarbone, the nape of your neck, one final one – dragged out – beneath your ear.

Harry softly worked at the bows, pulling them loose, watching them fall, your chest on proper display now. Your hands were roaming his torso, back, his hair and finally, his jaw- leaning back in, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth. His mouth parting slightly, and you stole the change to slip your tongue in- giving Harry a pleasant surprise.

You worked to unbutton his shirt, hastily shrugging it off of his shoulders, forcing him to help you remove it completely. Your hands were roaming his torse, lips following suit. Harry couldn’t help the soft sighs he let slip, trying to keep his hands on any part of your skin.

The impatience was growing – neither of you wanted to address it. But after the third time you pressed yourself against his crotch, Harry decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

He stepped back, softly chuckling at the bratty whine you sent his way. Harry’s hands pressed firmly into your hips; his thumb drawing circles up your thighs. He let a few fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, pushing it up to reveal your deep red, lacy undies.

Harry tutted, trailing his fingers closer and closer,

“I am very, very fond of these.”

He was inches away from getting exactly where he wanted, patiently dragging out each action. He knew you were certain- your incapability of letting him out of your grasp was proof.

Your hands were still all over him, desperately grasping at any free skin,

“Shut it.”

“Yeah?” he snickered,

“Yeah,” you huffed,

“What if-”

“Harry. I said shut it and put your mouth to good use.”

He blinked, blinked once more, and nodded profusely,

“Yes ma’am.”

---

Get ready for part twoooo! - Emmy xox.

#elioslover #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles smut #elioslover writing

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imagineredwood · 1 year

Text

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Request: imagine for Gilly being into a girl that works at a bar and trying his hardest to get her attention. Secretly she’s had a crush on him the whole time

Pairing: Gilly Lopez x female reader

Warnings: Shitty men, derogatory language

Word count: 1,031

You smiled immediately as soon as you saw the wall of a man saunter into your bar. You looked down and willed the smile to go away but it was easier said than done. The muscles in your face were being puppeteered by your heart and weren't relaxing easily enough for your liking. Even still, you managed to have a straight face on by the time Gilly got to the counter. He placed himself off to the corner as he always did, the other two in tow as per usual. It was Angel who complained first as they took their seats.

"Don't know why you always wanna come here instead of staying at the clubhouse. It ain't even that good here."

Gilly rolled his eyes and forced himself to look around, already having spotted you but not wanting to make it obvious. Typically Coco and Angel would go off to play a game of pool or chat-up girls, but they were tired tonight, the desert having taken a toll on them. So they sat beside their friend and waited, making small talk. Gilly entertained them, but they knew him well enough to notice how his eyes lit up at something passed them. They both turned and saw you walking towards their end of the bar and shared knowing smiles, Angel's hand rough as he pushed and squeezed at Gilly's shoulder.

"Ahhhhh, now I see."

Gilly scoffed and rolled his arm roughly, tossing off Angel's hand right as you stopped in front of them. He offered up a cheesy smile and you returned it before nodding toward Angel and Coco.

"How are you guys doing?"

You didn't pay too much mind to Gilly, as usual, not wanting to blow his head up. You also didn't fully trust him, or any of the men in your bar really. It always felt like they had ulterior motives and at the end of the day, you were here because it was your job. You had a crush on Gilly, that much was certain, but you had seen how the others went after a new girl every time they came in and while Gilly's focus always seemed to be on you, you were pretty sure it was because you feigned not having interest. You figured he just enjoyed the chase and was happy to play a game of hard-to-get. You didn't feel like being a prize or notch on a bedpost.

Yet here he was again, eyes on you.

You took their orders and then poured their drinks, making sure to move around the bar, refilling for all of your patrons, not just the ones in kuttes. At some point, he had given up the act of trying to impress you with his pool skills. He had gone home with enough money to pay rent plenty of times, and it hadn't ever seemed to really matter to you. He'd gone to the ends of the earth to impress you and get your attention, yet nothing had really worked.

It was the sound of fingers snapping that got your attention, your head turning to follow the sound. There you found a middle-aged man with his hand still up, a permanent scowl etched into his features.

"Bout damn time. Running around here worried about cleaning the counter when you should be worried about getting my order."

His tone was harsh, his scratchy voice even more so and you forced a tight smile, answering him while still not being a doormat.

"You wouldn't want to sit at a dirty bar, now would you?"

You were still professional while letting a slight edge into your voice, but the interaction had caught Gilly's attention, his eyes on the man who scoffed and leaned back in his seat.

"I don't wanna sit at a bar with no drink either, now come on. Get me a beer."

Your eye twitched but you held it together, not unused to shitty demanding men. Reaching over to the fridge, you grabbed him a beer and popped the top, handing it over.

"Enjoy."

You attempted to walk off to the other side then but he just wouldn't quit, his grating voice sounding out again.

"I'd enjoy it more if it didn't take 6 years to get, bitch."

You turned slowly, ready to speak up for yourself when you saw Gilly stand from his seat and calmly walk over to the man. He placed his hand on the back of his neck and squeezed, the shirt collar scrunched up in his grasp. The man winced and tried to turn and get a look at him but Gilly was already leaning down, mouth close to his ear. He spoke quietly, not nearly loud enough for you to hear what he said, but the way the man's eyes widened, it must've not been nice. You looked over at Angel and Coco, both of which were simply watching with entertained smiles.

And then just like that, Gilly was releasing the man. He backed off and you watched as the man hurriedly dug into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled wad of cash and handing it over to you, his voice shaky.

"Sorry about that, ma'am. Won't happen again, I promise. I apologize for my behavior."

Your eyes narrowed as you looked at him, never once having seen any manners from him. He was leaving quickly then, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to leave the bar. Grabbing your tips, you looked back at Gilly, who was now back in his seat, the anger from before slowly dissipating.

"Thank you."

You let your smile from before come out now, eyes twinkling as you looked at him. His smile returned too, the boys getting up and going off to the jukebox to give you guys some privacy.

"You're welcome. I wasn't just going to let him talk to you like that."

You nodded, the Mayan finally getting your attention and approval. Glancing at the clock, you read the time and looked back at him.

"I get off in about 25 minutes. Maybe we could hang out?"

Gilly's smile was all teeth as he nodded enthusiastically.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa @sadeyesgf @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @all-the-boys-to-the-yard @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester @alexxavicry @kaykaysuh @savagemickey03 @fanfic-n-tabulous @gangstaliciou06 @carma-fanficaddict @xbloodyxangelx

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @darklingveracruz @appropriate-writers-name @cind-in-real-life @blessedboo @montanaraed @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @redpoodlern @xonickibaby @myakai13

@cruzwalters @yosoynicolexo @mrsstevenbuchananstark @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty @lyly00 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @kaykaysuh @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous @90sisthenew80s @lovelytricia @carma-fanficaddict

#gilly lopez #Mayans MC #mayans imagine #gilly x reader #gilly lopez x reader #imagines

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all-pacas · 5 days

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HEY HIMYM ANON, i found a draft for you! i actually quite like this, maybe i'll work out an ending. it was mostly written out of spite, iirc - maybe my least favorite part of the finale is the idea that "this whole time you were talking about robin!" because. way to miss the point, ted's kids.

It is not a story about Robin.

After Tracy had passed, he’d spent weeks, months, ready to follow. To give up. To surrender to it, the grief and luxury of sleeping for days at a stretch, missing her, the smell of her, the smell of her hospital room, sickly sweet and sharp and deadly. They’d done everything right. Everything they could. Taken the kids traveling, taken Tracy to New Zealand, to Paris, blowing their savings on oncologists and presents.

It had been bad, when the cancer caught up and the money ran out and Tracy talked for her doctors alone for an hour and told him firmly, gently, that she was done with chemo. They had still smiled and laughed and photographed and filmed, filling album after album, their fridge full of second hand casseroles. Smiled until it hurt and dug and tore, ripping through his skin, yanking him apart.

It had been bad.

Others would take the kids for days at a time, Barney blowing in from Manhattan to take them to zoos and museums and Lazer Tag, Lily teaching Penny how to apply mascara, eyeliner, buy her first bra. Marshall cutting Ted checks, depositing them without asking first, each generosity another blow.

It is not a story about Robin.

She moves back to New York in ‘26, he hears, from Marshall, who hears it from Lily; runs into her in person some time later. She is beautiful, pristine, untouched. Smiles and glad-to-see-yous. Polite hugs. Polite, continental kisses. He’s glad to see her, glad to see her well. It’s shocking how much they remember, how easy it is to resume five year old conversations. She doesn’t mention Tracy, and he takes it for politeness and avoidance until one afternoon it hits him: she has no memories of Tracy to share.

Barney has joint custody of his daughter, who, at seven, loves animals, outer space, and her older cousins in that order. They go to the Bronx Zoo, the five of them: Ellie following Penny around, Luke on his Switch the whole time, Ted and Barney hanging twenty paces back and keeping an eye on the kids.

Ted’s laughing, actually laughing, at some insane work story of Barney’s when he thinks: I can’t believe we’re still friends, and in the lull he says: “We’ve been friends twenty five years.”

“Of course we have,” Barney says, mouth twisted in incredulity. He’s wearing a suit and his hair is slowly graying and twenty five years ago he started talking to Ted at the urinal, when Ted was twenty five.

Penny is getting a little snappy with Ellie, who wants to follow her into a public bathroom. Penny stomps over to Ted in a huff, and Barney takes the younger kids to get ice creams while Penny complains.

Ted hums. “Did I ever tell you how I met your Uncle Barney?” he asks.

They all get together for Lily’s fiftieth. The Eriksens hire caterers, waiters, rent a Long Island event hall. White tie: Barney shows up in Westchester with tuxes for Ted and Luke, claiming he doesn’t trust them to pick out their own. Penny is twelve: Lily helps her curl her hair, buys her low-heeled pumps, and she looks so much like Tracy that Ted has to go into the washroom and sit, lost, for several minutes, until he can emerge smiling and tell her how beautiful and grown-up she is without crying.

He and Marshall split a joint in the parking lot, and it helps. Perfectly legal nowadays, but the furtive feeling brings him back, makes him feel younger and reckless. Lily is fully manic, and Barney sneaks Marvin half a glass of wine.

They take pictures: the four of them, the Eriksens alone, the four of them plus kids.

Robin arrives half an hour late. Polite hugs. Kisses. Lily pleased to see her, everyone else hugging and exchanging small talk. Robin isn’t invited into the first set of pictures, but it might have been an oversight. Ted spots her, lips thin, as he’s smiling huge and fake on Lily’s order.

He and Marshall catch Barney smoking in the parking lot after their joint. “I thought you quit,” Marshall calls, joking, heading back in.

Ted lingers. “Doesn’t count,” Barney says shortly, before he can say anything.

“Robin?” Ted guesses, and Barney shrugs.

“I get it,” Ted says.

Barney stubs out his cigarette butt under his heel.

“We never really talked about any of it,” Ted says, looking off to the banquet hall.

“What’s there to talk about?” Barney asks.

#give me a himym where actually ted is fucking pissed at robin #for abandoning him and his family as his WIFE DIED

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curatoroffiction · 2 years

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Ramshackle's New Student

Summary:

Yuu/The Main Character of the Twisted Wonderland series gains a new student while setting the groundwork for some major renovations on the Ramshackle Dorm. Based on a great concept written by fairytaleliving over on Tumblr. I was so inspired I had to write it. Sunny, the new student, is their concept, I just took it and ran with it.

Notes:

For @fairytaleliving

Inspired by "au where yuu gets a freshman" by fairytaleliving.

---

This was one of the first pieces I’d written in a really long time. It actually revitalized my passion for writing! This is just to explain that this is one of my older pieces, so the writing might be a little different than my usual stuff. I recently re-vamped it and am starting to add more chapters. It’ll come out a lot slower than my other stuff, because I wanna base it off of the series, and I’m an English player. As of posting this, the series has only released up to Book 4.

---

Warnings: Spoilers for Twisted Wonderland series Tags: Reader-Insert, Ungendered MC, OC Characters, Overblot, Twisted Wonderland, Ramshackle

Chapter 1 of ?: Rough First Day

"Hey, ___, You've been disappearing after classes lately. What's been up with that?" Ace asks as you and Grim come to sit down with your food at the table.

"___'s been working hard on our dorm!" Grim pipes up excitedly. This piques the interest of the lunch table.

"Working on your dorm? What does that mean?" Cater asks, curious.

"Oh yeah, I've got a system worked out with Crowley. I took over the expense reports and expenses for the Ramshackle dorms, he gives me a stipend every month to do so, and any money I can save from the month's budget will become mine. It also means I can save money for larger projects that I can't do myself, which would be a headache and a half for Crowley to oversee, which means the dorm property gets faster upgrades, so, it's a win all around."

Deuce's eyes sparkle at the idea. "So wait, you've been working on the property yourself?? How?"

"Oh, I used to do woodworking back in my own world. Re-upholstering isn't actually all that hard to learn, it's just the working with wood part that's a fancier problem. Even then, I'm pretty well trained in it."

"Can we come and see? That sounds really cool."

"Sure, but I warn you; The front yard's a bit of a warzone. I've started a personal fight with the chairs and couches of the dorm. They need some TLC. I'm gonna have to figure out a way to handle the waste from the projects, but that's a small price to pay to be able to have some pocket change in the near future." Nearby, a certain fiscal Hyena's ears perk up.

"How much is the budget anywho?" Trey asks, curious himself. The school has always typically managed these types of matters, so this is new information to him.

"Oh man, it's like 5000 Thaumarks. It's an insane budget. I figured the school was used to paying cost AND labor, but I didn't realize labor was such a high markup around here. Makes me wonder if they actually know how things cost when you take the time to take care of it yourself."

"Oh wow. How much are you saving on the budget?"

"Well, Instead of blowing the whole month's budget on replacing only a fraction of the chairs in the dorm, I've spent about... $500 Thaumarks on getting myself some necessary tools, and $500 more Thaumarks on tangible supplies for refurbishing the existing furniture. I estimate on that, I can get about half the chairs done on that alone, and the only stuff I'll really need to replenish is the wood and fabric for the next round of furniture. So, I'm using about 1/5th, maybe 1/4th of a month's budget to achieve what would have taken multiple month's budgets to achieve. I'm saving up the rest for the floors, which severely need to be replaced. It's gonna be a tall order, and I've still gotta shop around to see how much it'll take to replace the wooden floors we've already got."

Trey looks earnestly surprised. You're taking on quite a lot of responsibility for this project, but you've never looked more in your element than this moment. Everyone at the table is a little in awe of how readily you've taken to the management of the dorm's expenses. Nearby, a certain Hyena can't stop listening in on your conversation. At his table, Leona raises an eyebrow, glancing to him.

"Yo, Ruggie. I still need that drink."

"Gimme a sec, I've just tuned into a very interesting station." Leona looks around. Interesting? Well, he doesn't often butt his head into other folks' business, so he can't seem to make out what's so interesting that his drink has to wait. He watches the flicker of Ruggie's ears as he listens in on your conversation, and uses that to pinpoint that he's listening in on your conversation specifically.

"Oh wow! So you're gonna be making bank pretty soon, eh?" Ace grins widely.

"Tuna! We'll be able to buy tuna!" Grim dances in his spot at the table. You laugh, gently petting his head, lightly scritching behind his ears.

"It'll take a bit of time, but I estimate I'll be in the green sometime around... 5 months from now? After that point, it'll mostly be small-fry projects that the monthly budget will be more than enough to cover, and the bulk of the budget will just be saved up on the side for if there's an emergency. Like if a certain small monster chooses to set something ablaze. And if I spend a chunk of the budget on nicer tools, I can get even more done on the property. The externals are last, though the walkway's gonna need some serious repairs or replacement before then. I estimate I'll have to do some stonework if I really wanna make the property shine." You scratch your chin thinking on that last part. "If that ends up being the case, then I'll probably see some bigger expenditures after the bulk of the dorm is in good shape, just because landscaping isn't really one of my strongsuits either."

"Wow, where did you learn how to do all of this?"

"Eh, it's just stuff I picked up in my old world. My dad was a carpenter, so woodworkin' was easy to learn. The rest I learned to make money here and there. People would pay through the nose for the pretty kinds of things. Luxury has a cost, and I could be it's source."

Deuce grins excitedly. You've got a goal in mind and you won't settle for anything less than achieving it. It's admirable. "I'm excited to come take a look at it. Maybe today after our classes?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan." The conversation shifts to talking more about school projects, and Ruggie tunes out. Leona sighs, having already laid his head on the table to nap. Ruggie stands up, grinning to himself with his newfound little nugget of info. It's never a bad thing to know who has skills, and who has money coming in on the horizon. He pockets this information and goes to grab Leona his drink.

---

"Oh wow!" Cater's eyes widen as he sees the before and after of the furniture. "This is amazing! This would be so perfect to capture for magicam. People love DIY nowadays! May I?"

You laugh. "Sure. Thank you for the compliment."

"No but seriously, this chair looks like brand new." Ace looks it up and down. "And it looked like THIS before??" He points to the one next to it. It's a dingy old piece. The cloth has been worn through, sun-bleached, and the wood has lost its luster.

"Yeah. You just yoink out the seat, re-upholster it, and then tend to the wood frame of the chair. The chair legs have been the biggest hurdle, since some of them have gotten broken. Some of the chairs have a weave in the back that's also taken a rough beating, so I have to manually re-weave the strips of wood or re-make a chair leg from scratch, which is where most of the time on this project gets eaten up. But after that, I just sand down the old stain, re-stain the whole piece and let it sit in the sun while I'm working, and take turns wiping and reapplying until I get the desired color. Let it sit for a day, and then I can go over it with a lacquer to keep it scratch-safe. Then I just plug the cushion back in, and BAM- Good as new." You're proud of your work. It's hard not to gush about everything you've been doing.

The guys don't mind though. They're earnestly infatuated with your work. "It's like the work of a master craftsman." Trey comments, touching the finished product. "Well, you have my respect. This is amazing work you're doing."

You smile warmly, grinning sheepishly as you lightly scratch the back of your head. "Ahh, you're very kind. I appreciate it."

"No seriously, this is top-tier. I couldn't do this even in my dreams." Ace grins, moving to sit in the completed chair. "It's even comfy to sit in!"

"Y'know, we've been looking to get some personalized chairs for the Heartslabyul dorm.." Trey grins.

You laugh and shake your head. "Maybe we can figure out an order once my dorm's in good shape. Who knows how long I'll be here."

---

It's been a few months since you started working on the dorm house. Most of the furniture has been repaired in all the main rooms, and you've even been able to start repairing and refurbishing the bedrooms. Even if you don't live in them, it'd be weird to leave them in the sorry state they were in before.

Tonight is the first New Student ceremony since you got here. It's hard to think it's been a year. A lot has happened in that time, even amidst your dorm repairs. You were told by Crowley that as a Dorm Prefect, you'll need to attend the ceremony, even if it's only for ceremony's sake. He even sent you some robes for the occasion. You feel strange in the robes, considering that you weren't really keen on the pomp and circumstance of it all. What if they had another 'fluke' like you? Someone ripped from their world with nowhere to go? You've never believed in flukes. If anything, you almost expect it. Something's up with that mirror. You couldn't have been the only one. Still, arriving in the Hall of Mirrors, you find yourself a little shy.

There's a spot for all of the prefects to sit in, and everyone's already seated. Well, everyone except Leona.

As you move to your seat, you hear Riddle murmur to you "Prefects should always be 15 minutes early to the start of any occasion."

You glance to the empty seat next to yours with five minutes left to the time when students are meant to be piling in.

You raise an eyebrow and Riddle sighs, his eyebrow twitching. "Leona isn't someone to model yourself after."

You laugh quietly, sitting down.

The event seemed pretty normal. Everyone was getting sorted into their dorms, it seemed pretty evenly split amongst them. No new students for your dorm, which was expected, you suppose. It's not like your dorm was a real one anyway. You didn't have one of the great seven associated with your dorm, your halls were filled with ghosts, and the only active students who lived there were a monster and a magic-less human.

That is... Until the mirror calls out the unexpected, causing the entire room to quiet down. "Ah yes... You have the spirit of Ramshackle inside of you." Everyone in the room is quiet. So quiet, your new student turns around cautiously. No one else had been added to Ramshackle. Was.. Was it dangerous? Scary? Bad? Even Crowley is surprised. It even takes the headmage a moment to compose himself.

Your new student finds himself intimidated by this.

"Please continue to your seat, so others may be sorted." Ever the face of the school, Crowley doesn't want to let the student body realize he's just been shaken. No one's been sorted into Ramshackle in about ninety years. He knows this has to be because of the work you've been doing, but you have no magic. What have you been doing?

The other prefects are looking at you, but as Crowley tries to gloss over this strange occurrence, they begin to compose themselves as well, looking back to the mirror. The bewildered look on your face was already soaked in by all of the other dorm leaders though.

A student? Are you a real prefect now?

---

As the other students pile away after their dorm leaders, people keep giving you looks. You haven't moved from your spot. You're waiting until everyone's gone. Your lone student sits in their chair, looking around at all of the other students as they pass. Once the room is cleared out, you stand up and walk over. Crowley accompanies you.

"Ah.. hello. You're the Ramshackle student, right?" You ask, looking to him. He seems almost relieved that someone actually came to retrieve him. Though, looking you over, you seem so... Ordinary. One of the other prefects had horns. He was so sure that a dorm as exclusive as this one would be something wild and scary, but you seem so... normal.

"Yes. Are you my dorm prefect...?" He looks between you and Crowley.

You look to Crowley. "Am I?"

He muses, scratching his chin lightly. "Hmm.. I suppose you are."

You look back to your new student. "I suppose I am."

"Why.. why is it only me?" He asks, looking between you two. Isn't that the headmage? What's he doing weighing in on this matter?

"Honestly? We didn't expect my dorm to get any new students." You say, scratching the side of your head.

"Huh? Why's that?"

"See, we're not really a dorm. I mean, I suppose we are on paper.. But.. ahh.. Hmm."

Crowley sets a hand on your shoulder, pausing your explanation. "Ramshackle is a unique dorm. You're the first student who has been sorted into it for about ninety years." The student's eyes widen in surprise.

He points to you. "Then.. How does it have a Prefect..?"

"Well, your amazing prefect ___ has taken up residence in the Ramshackle dorms due to reasons that the universe has yet to enlighten us on. Even the mirror didn't know where to sort them."

You grin sheepishly. "I.. ah.. I'm not a typical student. I have no magic, and I didn't really come here of my own volition. I was scooped up from my world and taken here. I've been trying to get back ever since. That's why it's a surprise to have you, a student, now living in my dorm."

No magic? The student before you's eyes widen with more than just surprise now. "Wait, you don't have magic? And you're from another world? You can't even go back..?"

Crowley weighs in. "No, the world that ___ came from appears to be missing from even the mirror's eyes, which does beg the question of how it was able to collect them in the first place... But I assure you, ___ is more than capable to handle everything this school has to throw at you. You're quite lucky to be in their hands."

The compliments surprise you, though, it's probably just fluff to make the new kid feel more comfortable. You decide to speak your mind.

"Look, I know it's.. Not the most desirable arrangement. The other dorms probably still have room if you wanted to transfer. That mirror is all kinds of wonky as far as I'm concerned. You don't have to be trapped in this if you'd like to change dorms."

Your student furrows their brow. Everything they'd known about the mirror and this school tells them that if they were sent to your dorm, then that's where they're supposed to be. Just because it's strange doesn't mean it's wrong.. "Well, the mirror chooses the dorm that would best benefit our journey in learning, yeah?"

Crowley nods. "Yes, it listens to the heart of your magic and what dorm would best be tuned to helping you to succeed."

"Then, I guess I belong to Ramshackle. I'd like to at least give it a chance before I go throwing myself into something else."

Crowley grins. "Wonderful! Yes! Ramshackle has officially flourished under your tutilage, ___. Breathe in the rewards of your labor!"

You laugh quietly, shaking your head. Yeah, okay. "Alright then, come on. Let's head on over to our dorm. I'll show you the way." Your student looks around at all of the mirrors around. Which one could be yours? You motion for him to follow you out the door of the building. "C'mon. We don't have a mirror yet."

---

"When we get there, you're gonna meet everyone else who lives there."

"I thought it was just the two of us though."

You sigh with a chuckle, shaking your head. "Far from it. Grim is a monster that is a fellow student." A monster? Wait. As a student?? "Also, there's a few ghosts that live on the premises." Ghosts?? "Don't worry about them though. Everyone's pretty chill. Grim's a handful, but he's pretty relaxed if you get him some tuna or pet his belly. The ghosts just like to play tricks, but if it ever bothers you, lemme know." Just what exactly did he just get himself into, accepting this dorm as his own..?

As you reach the gate at the foot of the hill leading up to your dorm, he peers up at the abandoned looking building. "Oh god, please tell me you're hazing me."

"I promise, it looks a lot nicer on the inside." You laugh, opening the gate leading up. He follows after you, looking around. Cobwebs, dead plants, overgrown foliage as far as the eye can see. There appears to be a.. workshop..? Set up outside?

"What's that area right there?"

"Well, when I got here, it was a decrepit old shack of a building. I've been breathing life into it by using the dorm's upkeep budget to fix it up. Made a little arrangement with Crowley to be able to control the upkeep budget. I finally got to replacing the floors this last month, so things are lookin' real nice if I do say so myself."

When you go to open the door, your student is shocked to see how beautiful the interior is compared to the outside. "Wait... You did this? All of this? All on your own?? With no magic??" He stares at you, then back to the floors. To the furniture. If the nearby wall didn't have visible tears in the wallpaper, he'd almost not believe it. The majority of the room looks pretty brand new. The floors even sparkle from fresh oiling.

"Yeah. I mean, Grim helped a little here and there, and so did the ghosts, but they can only do so much. Their help was mostly just grabbing me tools and stuff from inside the house while I was outside because I couldn't be assed to clamber all the way inside to grab a screwdriver. I'm the one with woodworking training and the knowhow of shopping for contractors."

Your student is immediately enthralled by your handiwork, admiring the furniture. "You didn't buy this?"

"Nah. Just cleaned up and refurbished the furniture that existed here beforehand. Wanna see what they looked like before I got my hands on 'em?" You grin.

"Yeah!"

You tug out your phone, pulling up a picture of the couch that sits in the main hall. "Check it. That used to be this." Your student looks bewilderedly between your phone and the couch.

There's no way you did that.

"You're like an artificer!!"

"Hmn?"

"A craftsman of magic artifacts!"

"Oh yeah, I've heard of those. I've been looking into that kinda stuff recently, actually. Turns out, you can perform a lot of magic through crafting objects. Magestones are the magic-less person's magic craft. You just gotta charge the stones correctly and know how to build something out to allow it to best use the magestone's magic. It's a lot easier to research crafting magical objects, and I've been wondering if the path home is through crafting my own mirror to go home. I do have objects from my home that could act as a catalyst.." You get lost in your own thoughts, which your student can't really follow. But he can't argue with the results. Your work is amazing.

He's beginning to get the idea of why he was put into your dorm.

---

"This room here is mine and Grim's. All the other rooms on this floor have been cleaned out. The floors on this floor haven't been replaced yet, but we're working up to it. The ones downstairs have been replaced, but they're also pretty barren since I had to move all the furniture out. At some point this month, we'll probably have to move downstairs for a week while some guys come in and replace this floor's floors. So don't get too attached to how things are right now. Lots of changing in the works."

"Why do the floors have to be replaced?" He asks, looking around. Sure, the floors aren't new and pretty like the ones downstairs, but some TLC would probably do them some good. You kick the long hallway carpet aside to show him a massive hole in the floor where a chandlier was dropped by the ghosts when you first got here.

"We uh, don't go past this point in the hallway all that often. I'd like for new students to be able to walk anywhere in the building without worrying about their safety. The floors are pretty old anyway. I'm pretty sure they were old a few centuries ago. They're pretty overdo for replacement."

Sunny blinks. It looks like an impact. Did something happen here? Actually, now that he thinks about it, why is this dorm practically abandoned and filled with ghosts? Is there a story here they haven't told him yet..?

---

"Sunny, huh? My name's ___. It's good to have you around." You had to fill Sunny in on so much when he got here, that you've only JUST gotten to a formal introduction. He doesn't mind the informality though. You've definitely got a lot on your plate already with the renovations of the dorm. Though, it surprises him when you get up early enough to make him some breakfast the next morning. He shyly sits at the breakfast table, not really sure what to do. You give him a glance over as you start putting some food on his plate.

Setting the pan aside on a potholder, you reach over and fix up his tie. "We've only got three students who go on campus, so we've gotta try to be presentable. Let me know if you've got any problems adjusting. I know it can be pretty hard." Pretty hard is an understatement. You've probably gone through hell as a non-magical student. Sunny has been in awe of you since he saw the foyer. "Wash your dishes by hand and leave them to dry on the rack. We don't have a working dishwasher." You motion to a rack on the counter by the sink with a towel underneath it. You don't even bother to sit down, you scarf down your food while standing by the stove. Grim happily munches away at his tuna in a seat nearby Sunny as he looks around, beginning to eat his own food. It's all still pretty new to him, so you're not surprised he's taking a minute to adjust.

Still, you can't slow down much to help him. "I'm going to be solving a problem at the library today, so if you need me, I'll be there."

"Wait, what kind of problem?"

"Ahh, I think they have an infestation in one of the back rooms. Whatever the cause, Crowley was insistent that it was 'too much for him to handle' so he dropped it on my plate."

"You address the headmage so informally..?"

You laugh for a second, pausing for the first time since you got up. "Oh, yeah, dude, our dorm's unofficial name is 'Crowley's Bitches'. Every time he has a problem, he'll show up at our door and tell us to solve it. Grim, we've gotta go soon if we wanna get there in time to get to our classes afterwards."

"Our dorm acts as the Headmage's personal assistant??" Sunny's eyes widen again. That's a lot of responsibility.

"Yeah. Though, that's more of a me problem. It's because I'm staying here on his dime while I'm trapped in this world. You don't get things for free here, so, while my life incurs expenses, I pay them off by doing odd jobs. You don't have to worry about that. I mean, unless you'd like to help. I'll never say no to help."

Sunny wonders on that. With how much praise the headmage gave you upon his arrival here, being in his good graces would definitely be a positive. And, if you've got your thumb on all kinds of things in this school, he could push himself ahead by involving himself too. And no greater way to do it than to learn under someone so experienced. "Yeah, actually, I think I'd like to help out. Just consider me part of the team." He grins, flexing one arm and grabbing it with his other hand.

---

Upon arriving at the library, the librarian knows you and opens the doors, locking them shortly after you and your entourage come in. Sunny looks over the vast library in awe. It's his first time seeing it.

"Alright, so where's this.. infestation? That Crowley mentioned?" You ask, looking to the librarian getting straight to business.

"Follow me." He sighs, motioning for you three to follow him into the back. Grim glances around as you're led behind the desk. You keep your eye on him, but now you've got another person to watch. You don't know how Sunny will handle the pressure of these odd jobs, but it's nice to have someone willing to try. Did the mirror fuck up again? Or is he planning something? You catch yourself wondering on Sunny's motives, and you quietly laugh to yourself. It's funny. With how long you've lived here, you really have become accustomed to the way this world operates. Whatever the case, you're in charge, so you're sure you'll figure it out if something goes awry.

The librarian opens one of the doors in the back and you're greeted by a prompt book being jettisoned from it. You quickly dodge the projectile, seeing the dent it leaves on the wall behind you. Everyone looks to the Librarian, who stands off to the side of the room, avoiding looking in. Glancing inside, you see the disfigured face of.. A ghost. Suddenly, the headmage's request for you to get involved makes a lot more sense. The ghost screams and dives into the storage stacks of the room. You look over to Sunny to see he's frozen. Yeah, that tracks. Stepping forward, you start to walk into the room and Sunny grabs you by your sleeve. "Wait- You've got no magic-"

"Magic can only do so much anywho. C'mon. Unless... you're scared?" You give him a small, challenging grin. He's shocked. You're so relaxed. Whatever's in there is aggressive and doesn't want to be bothered, and will likely lash out at anyone that tries to get it to leave. Ghosts are one thing, but angry ghosts are another thing entirely. He's studied on them before, fascinated by the ghosts of the school. This is a bit more... exciting than he anticipated though.

You see the look in his eyes and you sigh, gently patting his shoulder. "Hey, just stay here, alright? No hard feelings if you can't go in there. Just watch." You look to Grim and he grins to you, putting on a fierce expression as you two step into the room. "Remember, no fire Grim."

"I know!!"

"I really mean it. These books are priceless."

"I'm not gonna burn anything!" The librarian watches from the doorway next to Sunny, and Sunny finds himself.. fascinated by the expression on the librarian's face. He almost looks... guilty. Books fly at you as you step into the room. Trinkets you can only presume are valuable for studying are tossed against the walls and shattered. The floor itself begins to move as the wallpaper of the room begins to tear. The ghost splatters ink against the wall that screams the word "LEAVE" in the dripping stain.

You prepare yourself for the violence, batting away books with the bat you brought as you call out to the ghost; "Look!! You're a person! So let's talk person to person, eh!?" The ghost screams audibly as it flitters through the bookshelves. One of them begins to tumble towards you off of the wall and you scoop up Grim, jumping back. "You weren't always like this, right?!" You shout amidst the chaos. "Something happened, so talk to me!"

As you speak, the librarian seems to be fiddling with something in his pocket, his eyes glued to the scene in front of him. Sunny, however, can't seem to take his eyes off of the librarian. Sunny knows when someone's hiding something, and this guy's definitely holding back some vital information. It's when the ghost begins to scream again that it clicks to Sunny's mind. Every scream is accompanied by movement in the librarian's pocket. Almost as though he's got his hand on something that's causing the ghost to lash out. Without even thinking about it, Sunny snatches at the librarian's pocket, causing the librarian to jump back.

"What do you think you're doi-" The librarian snaps, interrupted by Sunny.

"What're you doing that's pissing off the ghost?" He calls out, garnering your attention. You glance over to see the librarian yank his hand away, the glint of something shiny in his hand unmistakable.

You call out to Sunny; "Grab the artifact in his hand!" And he jumps into action without even thinking about it. "Grim, help him." Grim, glad to escape the wrath of the pissed off ghost, rushes to Sunny's side to help him. After a tussle with the librarian that takes them out of your line of sight, Sunny and Grim manage to get an artifact out of his hands, and the ghost begins to calm down. The room falls silent, telling you that Sunny's hunch was right on the nose. The question is, though.. Why? After talking it out with the ghost, you learn that the ghost is one of the ones that helps in the library sometimes, but 'help' is the key word there. He wanted to leave, and the librarian tried to tether him to the library as a permanent captive.

Out in the main area of the library, the librarian begins lashing out at Sunny and Grim. His body begins changing in a familiar way, and Sunny can't believe his eyes. You can already tell from the ghost's story where this is going.

"Holdup, I'll be right back. Please, don't cause anymore damage while I'm gone."

"I just want to go home..."

"I'll need your testimony for the headmage so that the librarian is brought to justice." The ghost is sad, but resigns to it. Maybe after this, he can finally go home. You run out to the main area of the library, where Sunny and Grim went with the librarian, and you see the librarian finish his transformation. Overblot. That certainly seems to be a reoccurring problem in this school.

You immediately begin to bark orders. "Sunny, go get help. Grim and I will keep the librarian busy. This is WAY over your head." He can't help but be amazed by how quickly you step up to the plate, unfazed by things that he was sure would haunt him in his nightmares.

The librarian begins to scream about how he has too much work on his shoulders. How it all falls to him. How he can't handle it anymore. He lashes out, sending a blast of cutting air in your direction.

Grim is about to burst into action when you grab him and hoist Sunny out of the way of the blast. "GRIM. NO FIRE."

"HE'S GONNA KILL US, ___!"

"THE BOOKS STILL MATTER, AND I'M NOT INCURRING DEBT TO THIS SCHOOL BECAUSE YOU BURNED THEM ALL." Even in the midst of this chaos, you're aware enough of your surroundings to see your effect on the world around you.

Sunny stands slowly, stepping between you and the librarian's overblotted form. "Maybe my magic is better suited for this." He says, hovering his hands outward, pen in hand. You don't even take the time to ask if that's true or not, you just switch tracks. If the kid is willing to fight, and he's not about to set the library on fire, you say let him fight.

"Change of plans then. Grim! Get help! We'll handle this as best as we can!"

"No need to tell me twice!" Grim rushes for the door. The librarian lashes out at you three with another blast of air, to which you kick over a heavy table as a barricade to give Grim a cover to escape from.

Behind your makeshift barricade, you look to Sunny. "Okay. What type of magic can you perform?" You ask, glancing over the edge of the tipped table to keep an eye on the librarian between blasts of cutting air.

"Uh.. Mm.." He raises his pen, "You're alone, and you are scared, but the banquet's all prepared- Be Our Guest!" Books and debris around you begin to dance, moving around. The table itself begins to move, surprising you. You reflexively bark orders to the table to hold its place, and it.. Salutes.. you..? But it stands firm in its position, even moving its own legs to better leverage against the blasts.

You look to Sunny in earnest surprise. This is a powerful spell.

You can't help but let a large grin spread across your lips as an "Oh hell yeah" escapes your lips. "I can work with this."

Using guerrilla tactics and dancing book ends and library ladders, you two are able to lure the overblotted librarian deeper into the stacks, catching him offgaurd from multiple angles as you take control of the field. Finally, he gets so fed up that he just begins using his personal magic to try to hurt everything that comes near him. You couldn't catch the spell, but it looked like sand is engulfing everything. Where did the sand even come from..? Is this what higher level magic looks like..?

It isn't until Grim returns with Ace, Deuce and.. Rook? That the tide of the fight shifts.

Everyone working together, you're able to wear down the librarian enough that he's burnt out his emotions before his magic has been burnt out.

He passes out and you look around at the massive mess. Ace and Deuce are high-fiving and laughing as Rook is commenting on how dastardly the beast you just hunted was, and how beautiful and impeccable your teamwork was. Sunny is exhausted. He's spent more magic in just this morning than he has in most of the exercises he's ever had before this school.

You look to his pen and can see the cloudiness in it, and you rest a hand on his shoulder. "Stand down, Sunny. You did great. Relax and rest. I'll handle the rest." He watches you in awe as.. even though you've already spent so much energy running around in warfare amidst the bookshelves, you stand tall to thank the help that came along. Deuce and Ace both grin and demand you buy them lunch and you happily agree. Rook on the other hand is now more interested than ever in your prowess in the field, and keeps suggesting you'd make a great hunt. Sunny isn't sure what that means, but it doesn't seem to be a favor you're keen on giving him.

Grim cries out that he worked hard and deserves tuna, and you agree as you start moving tables back to where they belong. Sunny is exhausted, but he knows his spell would help a lot with the cleanup. Still.. he finds himself drifting off to sleep before he can swing his pen in any way to help.

---

Sunny eventually wakes up, this time in the infirmary. You're sitting next to him. Crowley is standing nearby as well. He can tell you both were talking about something before he stirred awake. Crowley cries out in joyous lament from the state of Sunny's awakening, saddened that such a student fell so exhausted and was put in such danger under his watch. You figure he's putting on a show to try to make Sunny feel responsible for getting involved in one of your little 'odd jobs'.

"How're you doing, Kid?" You ask him, nudging his shoulder.

Sunny tiredly looks to you, then to Crowley, rubbing his eye. "Nngh.. I'm beat.."

"It was really kind of you to help out with that odd job, but, the headmage here says it'd probably be best if you didn't help on those in the future." You grin sheepishly, but are startled as Sunny shoots up, gripping your forearm.

"But, I wanted to help!"

This surprises Crowley too. He figured you had pressured Sunny into it, but it seems he was a bit more boisterous than you BOTH expected. "I.. I liked being able to be useful. I learned a lot, and, and.." Sunny tries to explain himself and Crowley smiles. From your story, this kid is the primary reason that the school even still HAS a library. Maybe the mirror seems to know what it's doing afterall.

"Alright. Okay. I involved myself because I was worried that your first day was a little TOO rough, but it sounds like you're more tenacious than I expected. Your teachers have been made aware of the situation, so please, Sunny, take the rest of the day off." Crowley's less concerned about the backlash of the kid's parents, and more concerned about the darkness clouding his magestone. He doesn't really know how to hold himself back. He's a little too eager, and that concerns him. "Your magestone is quite clouded, so you need to rest more than anything."

You immediately step up to the plate, giving Crowley a silent confirmation that you'll help your student recover from this incident; "I'll go by all your classes to get the classwork for you, so, just consider today your day off. We'll start again tomorrow, fresh as a daisy." You grin, patting Sunny's shoulder. He tiredly nods, resting back in the bed. You get up. "If you feel ready, let the nurse know, and I'll come return to walk you back to the dorm. Alright?"

Today it was just exhaustion, but, you make a note in your mind that Sunny doesn't really know how to stop himself from pushing himself too hard. You'll have to keep an eye on that.

---

"What ever happened with the librarian?" It's been a few days, and the library's been inaccessible due to repairs. Sunny asks the question over breakfast.

"Ah.. yeah, Crowley was not psyched to find out what he'd been doing to the ghost that was helping in the stacks, but he also felt responsible for all of the problems that'd fallen on the librarian's shoulders. Still, given the level of damage he did, and the fact that he endangered multiple students, it's not likely we'll see that librarian again for a while, if ever. They're probably gonna get a new one, and give them more help than they did the last one. Can't have a teacher who overblots like that instead of communicating to the headmage about their struggles."

"You seemed.. so used to it. Like nothing about any of that surprised you. Is that.. Is it common for you to deal with that kind of stuff?" Sunny's voice is slow, almost not sure how to phrase the question.

You laugh. "Yeah, you could say that. A lot of people have overblotted at the school, and I keep landing in the center of those fights. It's never my fault, it just seems that a good chunk of the things Crowley doesn't have time for are things that need the most tending to."

Sunny blinks. "The more I learn about this headmage, the more I'm surprised he's allowed to run a school. He seems incredibly irresponsible."

"Hey now, Crowley bankrolls that breakfast you're eating, so you gotta play nice. But.. I getcha. It's exhausting. I figure he's doing the best he can, but it is awfully suspicious that he is always conveniently gone when overblotting starts happening. I've had my thoughts on the matter, but, eh, I've got enough to worry about. 'Sides, it's in the job description."

"Job description?"

You grin. "Y'know. Crowley's Bitches." Sunny laughs. He gets it now. ——– Chapter End. ——– You can read the rest of this series, and other works, here!:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37540159/chapters/93698119

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ruewrites · 1 year

Text

How Time Has Changed You

AO3

Ship(s): Diavolo/Lucifer, Background Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 2648

Warnings: None

A/N:

Hello! Adding once again to the Next Gen!AU that @leviathanswingman and I came up with. I wanted an excuse to bring in little Ariel and to write some fluff between Lucifer and Asmo. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

Comments are appreciated!

"I'm surprised you were able to come here alone."

"You know how Diavolo gets at the very prospect of nieces and nephews."

"I know. That's why I'm surprised you were able to come here alone."

Asmo was currently swallowed in Lucifer's coat, a cup of tea steaming in his frail fingers as his tiny figure made itself impossibly smaller as he curled up on the couch. He hummed softly in thought, blowing at the dancing steam as it arose from the cup.

No, he wasn’t entirely frail now. In other ways he was less frail than what he had been. His hips were rounded out, his hugs not as bony and even warmer now than what they had been years ago. He was even softer now, even warmer. He was still energetic and spunky yes, and his eyes still sparkled, but he had softened more and leaned even more into his gentle nature. He also let his hair grow out, and it was now tied in a neat little bun on top of his head. He had caught Solomon playing with it on many an occasion at gatherings. Overall, he had… matured… but it was still Asmo.

Lucifer leaned back in the armchair he was in, taking in Asmo just for a second longer, "Solomon made his instructions quite clear that he wanted you to be in a calm environment. It sounded like he could certainly make use of his own requests as well."

And if Diavolo had come as he oh so desperately wanted to, the house would be anything but calm. He would want to know everything and anything about the new little demon brewing within Asmo's form. Or was the more correct term fallen angels? Partial humans?

"My husband certainly has seemed stressed hasn't he?"

"You going on impromptu outings without notice or times when you will return certainly doesn't help with that."

Oh Asmo was giving that sorcerer a run for his money. It made Lucifer chuckle a bit. From impromptu coffee shop and bakery runs to deciding he wanted to pick up a part time job at the daycare, Asmodeus was throwing Solomon into a panic. He'd become extremely accustomed to anxiety-riddled texts sent in the family group chats, unsure of where Asmo was or when he'd be home or if he was alright.

"He really does get himself worked up, I try not to upset him so much, really it's one of the few things we've ever really gotten into lil tifts about," Asmo sighed, brought the cup up to his lips and paused, "And of course that's why you're here, to make sure I don't get into any unsupervised trouble."

"Unfortunately, I find myself in slight agreement with the man you decided to marry Asmo," Lucifer smirked, "You are carrying his child as they say."

"They being humans?"

"No changing the subject, and he is correct to be concerned. The process affects you and puts you in a targeted position," Lucifer leaned forward ever so slightly, "His concern stems from valid reasons."

Asmo looked back down towards his tea cup, eyes flickering in order to avoid Lucifer's gaze. His fingers tapped along the porcelain glass before he spoke again.

"I think it all comes from guilt," he didn't look at Lucifer, "He missed Lilith's. There's no way he could have known, I didn't even know, yet he blames himself for missing it… And for her being early."

"It could be both."

Asmo's fingers tightened around the teacup.

"Which reminds me, I'm surprised you don't have anyone with you either. Lilith usually spends time with both of you and stays with you when Solomon has to go out."

Asmo's body softened and relaxed at the mention of his daughter. It had always been clear that, even if Lucifer had had rocky feelings about the man who sired his niece, she had grown up in a very healthy and loving environment. Both Asmo and Solomon gave her everything they could to get her to thrive. Their efforts paid off in the form of a blossoming young woman.

"She's busy with being a much better student than I was, she gets that from Solomon you know," Asmo chittered, "And she has friends at RAD. But she's so excited about the baby, she's already planning on weekends that she can come up to visit. It's always a treat to have her stay with us again."

"I could imagine."

After all, it was always a treat to have one of his brothers visit or to see Oleander, so Lucifer could share in that sentiment.

His eyes were trained on Asmodeus. Watching as he took another slow sip from the cup. His muscles tensed at the ready the second he saw the slightest tremor. The moment he arrived in the house, he became Asmo's shadow. Lucifer opened doors, lifted anything he personally considered too heavy, and always had a place for Asmo to sit.

Yes there were moments his brother appeared slightly agitated with his protective streak, but a little pampering appeared to take the edge off of his fury.

Asmo hissed and shooed him away the second Lucifer tried to take the knife he'd been using to cut fruit away from him. It was a noise Lucifer had never heard come out of Asmo before, but one he understood nonetheless. However, he was soon back to playing guardian once again to the younger demon.

"Stop."

"I haven't done a thing, Asmodeus."

Asmo rolled his eyes, "I swear, you are just as bad as Solomon."

"You offend me."

Asmo set his cup down and buried himself deeper in Lucifer's coat, "Being compared to your brother-in-law isn't that terrible of a thing now is it? He did help make both of your nieces. Niece and nephew?"

"You don't know?"

"Shush, no changing the subject."

Lucifer chuckled, once again relaxing in his own chair and motioning with his hand for Asmo to continue.

"Anyways, Solomon makes me happy and he cares for all of us, that's gotta give him some good graces in your book right?"

Lucifer didn't say a word on the matter. Instead, he took in the image of his brother, so content, so nurturing. While he couldn't fathom why Asmodeus would willingly wish to have another, especially not after his own experiences, he did know that the new little one would be incredibly lucky to have Asmodeus raise him. For a moment he was taken back to his days in the Celestial Realm. Back to days when a very young Asmo would steal a Belphie who was barely starting to open his eyes, hiding in the trees and bushes while Beel cried for his twin and the older angels searched in a frenzy for the two missing little ones. Back to when Asmo would herd all of the tiny baby angels one by one, and how much he adored his little doves. He would teach them so many little songs and play the cutest of games with them. Back to when Asmo fantasized about having a little flock to call his own.

It shouldn't have been a surprise that he would go on and have his own and yet-

Lucifer would not have questioned Asmo in the Celestial Realm. But he had questioned him when he had his first.

But his jewel had overcome Lucifer's fears. He had broken a cycle and even found a partner who had chosen to be just as attentive.

Sometimes Lucifer wondered if he had ever been able to break the cycle himself, or if he was just another perpetrator in the endless circle.

"Do you have a name picked out for them?"

Asmo smiled, albeit a bit sheepishly, "Well, yes. I told Solomon to pick one out since I named Lilith."

"And? Did your human manage to come up with anything worthwhile?"

"He did," Asmo's features softened as he pulled Lucifer's coat closer to his face, "Ariel. He seemed particularly fond of the same. He says it so sweetly. Humans are funny, he likes to talk to him, it's adorable really-"

"He talks to him?" Lucifer smirked.

"It's a funny thing humans do. I told him it's not the same but he still speaks to Ariel so fondly."

Lucifer noticed Asmo's eyes dip and quickly took the cup from his hands to set it on the coffee table. Asmo tried to wave him off, but Lucifer still pulled the coat up closer to Asmo's chin all the same. The process was a draining one, Lucifer still didn't entirely understand why Asmodeus would go through it a second time.

He could never picture himself doing that again.

That ugly concern rose up within him again. Asmodeus was so drained, so tired, so vulnerable. What if he couldn't protect him? What if there was nothing he could do to truly do to help? What if he could not be there when Asmodeus needed him the most? What if Lucifer failed to protect them again?

"Lucifer-"

"Sleep."

"Mm not-"

"Sleep."

Despite the pout on his lips, Asmo's eyes grew heavier and heavier.

Solomon would eventually make it home that evening, he would find Asmo fast asleep and the Avatar of Pride watching over him steadfast and unmoving.

***

It was snowing. It was one of the few things Lucifer remembered. It was a cold December night, the whole Devildom was silent and Lucifer could see his own breath even within the confines of the castle walls. No doubt the human world was just as frozen tonight. He was pacing back and forth. No real thoughts ran through his mind, only feelings.

He'd almost missed Solomon's text, almost didn't answer the frantic phone calls masked behind the attempt of a calm tone. A quick quiet promise of a call back and then soft click of the call ending.

Perhaps he should brew another cup of coffee. Maybe it would take his mind off his itching wings and how badly he wanted to be there despite the weather.

"You should try to go back to bed dearest," Diavolo's voice echoed off of the walls. His voice was soft and coaxing, but he was also smart enough to keep some distance between him and Lucifer at a time like this.

"And potentially miss an urgent message that needs my attention? I think not," Lucifer snorted. He fidgeted with his D.D.D., ruby eyes boring into the device as if it would give him answers sooner through his own will power. His wings twitched as he glanced back out the window. How hard would a trip really be? Just so he could be there, just so he could manage everything with his own eyes…

A hand grabbed his own, and Diavolo's eyes met his and he slowly shook his head, "Don't."

"I wasn't planning on anything."

"Don't lie to me dearest, you know I know the truth."

They stayed in a stalemate. Their disagreements were always like a game of chess, calm and carefully navigated. There was never a trace of aggression, never an ounce of contempt, only carefully crafted words and an understanding of the moves the other side made. Diavolo used his next move to bring Lucifer's hand up to his cheek, letting him relish in the warmth and comfort of the prince. "If you will not come back to bed, at least allow me to attend to your needs."

Lucifer let out a long breath and laid his head against Diavolo's shoulder.

He couldn't say a word as he allowed himself to be led over to one of the chairs next to the fireplace. Slowly his eyes followed Diavolo around the room as he lit the fireplace, placed a warm blanket on Lucifer's lap, and did his best to prepare tea. His hands fumbled causing the stream to lurch as it traveled downwards towards the cup. He was nowhere near as talented as Barbatos, and his movements were clumsy, but none of that mattered. Even now, with his nervous laughter and concerned puppy dog eyes, Lucifer felt his chest flutter.

As he picked up the cup, Diavolo moved behind him. A trill left his lips as strong hands kneaded into his shoulders and along where his wings connected with his back.

"You should let me tend to you more often."

"As if you don't do it daily?"

Diavolo chuckled and pressed a kiss against the back of his neck. "Asmodeus will be fine, you know as well as I do that Solomon wouldn't let anything happen to him."

Lucifer's eyes softened and he found himself staring deep into flames before him. He wished he could find solace in his husband's words, and yet the darkness continued to consume him.

***

It wasn't until the early hours that Lucifer finally heard back. The storm was still unrelenting and bit the bones of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way of it's wrath. The sound of his D.D.D. buzzing filled him with the most terrible sense of dread. For a moment, he was frozen, he couldn’t bring himself to look at the notification. Diavolo nudged it towards him on the little table. Their eyes met, and Diavolo offered him a smile and a soft nod.

There were no words in the text, only a single image.

Relief flooded his being. Asmo sat, exhausted but otherwise unharmed. In his arms a bundle sat wrapped on the brink of consciousness. He had a messy mop of black hair, the tiniest hint of wings peaking out, and his eyes were ones that Lucifer couldn’t help but recognize fondly. They were the color of sunsets and warm summer days.

“He looks like Solomon.”

Lucifer hummed, “He has Asmo’s eyes… and his nose… and dimples.”

Diavolo let out a short laugh and scooted closer, the eagerness radiating off of him was palpable. He looked nothing short of hopeful. There was only one way to handle this, the correct and proper way. After all, Asmodeus had just had his second child-

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“No we are not going to bother them-”

“It wouldn’t be-”

“Asmodeus just had a child mere minutes ago and you want to barge in there and pester them both with seeing the baby? Their newborn?”

Diavolo pouted. Some things never really changed, now did they? Letting out a low chuckle, he pulled his husband closer. He ran his fingers through red locks that had darkened with age, and yet both of them were still very much the same… and also very much not. “Let them rest for a while and settle with the new one, besides weren’t you the one who was worried about me traveling in this weather? We shall visit in a few days and then you can spoil your new nephew all you want.”

Diavolo scrunched his face as Lucifer poked his nose, “Can you at least ask them for his name?”

Lucifer could feel his wings flutter, he leaned into Diavolo as he looked back down at the photo. Asmodeus hadn’t done too bad, and his human had managed to pick out a fitting name for his new nephew.

“His name is Ariel.”

"Ariel," Diavolo repeated softly, "What a human sounding name. It's wonderful."

The image before him looked so soft and warm, both of them were protected from the harsh cold of the outside, and Solomon stayed close by making sure to keep contact with Asmodeus. They were safe. They were safe, and that was what mattered. Asmodeus had someone else watching over him and that made Lucifer’s mid ease ever so slightly. They were safe, and now Asmo’s little family grew once more, and in a way Asmo continued to grow with it.

Maybe, just maybe, Lucifer had changed as well.

Diavolo’s words tumbled in his head, and his eyes softened, “It is, isn’t it?”

#ruewrites #next gen!au #obey me #dialuci #solodeus #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #original demon character #original child character #fluff #angst #soft Asmodeus #Lucifer is a good big brother #Solomon is about to have a panic attack #Solomon probably had several panic attacks

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zoe-and-quinn · 8 months

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Whumptober Day 4

Cattle Prod / Shock / “You in there?”

TW: Electrocution, creepy whumper, objectification, torture

Alexei didn’t know when he decided Georgia would be staying with him for longer than most others. Perhaps he had known it all along, known it the first time they’d stayed up chatting online until the early hours of the morning. He didn’t usually put such a copious amount of effort in reeling in a catch, but for Georgia, it had always seemed… worth it.

The plan was solidified by the end of her first night in his basement. She made such cute faces when she was scared, such alluring squeaks and whimpers. He wanted to know what she sounded like screaming.

Years ago, when he had first started to capture, train, and sell his living playthings, he had distanced himself from the industry as much as possible, unable to see the joy people found in another’s pain. There had been nothing to his business but a fortune to be made. Even when he decided to take on a few permanent projects to offer to those who couldn’t afford to buy or keep their own toy, money was the only thing on his mind.

As the years went on, however, he couldn’t deny he was beginning to enjoy training sessions and punishments more and more. There was a certain allure to having another being fully under your control, whimpering under your touch, desperate and yet too terrified to do anything but wait for the next blow.

He paused as he unlocked the deadbolt on the door, savoring the anticipation. He had just finished mealtime for the trainees he was housing; there were 4 of them, at the moment; and his fingers flexed as the itch for action grew stronger.

He pushed the door open, and there she was. She was still seated in the corner, eyes blurry from sleep; she must have woken when he unlocked the door. He saw her moment of confusion, then the sinking realization and the fear that followed. He drank it in, leaning against the wall and turning the bolt again so the door wouldn’t close behind him.

“Morning, Georgie. Good sleep? Fever gone yet?”

“Al… Alexei.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That’s sir to you, love. I’ll let it slide this time, because you’re new.” She looked so confused, it made his heart pound.

“How… how long has it been?”

“Since you got in my car? A little over a day. I gave you something to help you sleep with the tylenol yesterday. Doctor’s orders and everything.”

She nodded, almost absentmindedly. He looked on with amusement as she tried to muster up the courage for another question. Finally, she cleared her throat.

“Why am I… here? What do you want with me?”

He smiled. “Would you like me to show you?”

She hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly.

It only took a moment for him to slip out of the room and find a suitable tool. This time, it was a cattle prod, charging on a rack on the wall. The power was about halfway, more than enough for what he had in mind.

It took another moment for him to return with the instrument of pain.

Another moment for him to watch as Georgia’s face changed from curiosity to fear.

Another for him to cross the room and crouch in front of her, placing the prongs of the rod on her sternum.

One more moment and Georgia was screaming.

The sound was glorious. It sent shivers up his body. One glance told him he had actual goosebumps. It had never been quite this strong with any of the others, but he wasn’t sure if that was due to Georgia’s personal qualities or his own growing addiction.

He didn’t care.

She was pressed against the wall again, trying to get as far away from him and his weapon as humanly possible. It was endearing.

“Wh-what,” she gasped, “the fuck-”

“Ooh, that’s not a very kind word, now is it?” Her eyes widened in fear and realization, right before her body convulsed once more.

She laid limp when Alexei spoke again. “Anything you’d like to say?”

She took a moment and a few deep breaths. “S-sorry.”

He smiled. “Sorry what?”

“Sir?”

“Wonderful, darling. You’re learning so fast. However, there’s one more thing I’d like you to learn today.”

Her breath hitched, but she stayed perfectly still, even when she felt the metal prongs, now slightly warm, come to rest on her back, now exposed from all her squirming.

Alexei took a moment to savor her shivering form, her obedient silence. He knew he had made the right decision. People would pay to see this, to cause this. But first, the girl had to be trained, and not only in basic respect.

He leaned closer to her, voice barely above a whisper. “Pain. You need to learn what it is to truly hurt.”

Georgia choked back a sob, and the fire continued.

#whumptober2023 #no.4 #shock #cattle prod #whump #whump writing #whump fic #whumpee #whumptober #writing #whumptober 2023

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kobblefort · 1 year

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Rushsly: Into the Depths 4

I'm interested in this guy for some reason. He just became a Swordmaster, and he seems like kind of a dick.

Sorry for another slow update. I've been playing Cataclysm: Dark Days Ahead, easily the second greatest simulation game of all time. It took a while for me to actually get into, but as you might have already surmised, I don't particularly loathe the idea of having to study a video game in order to play it. I was trying to get back into Caves of Qud recently as well, but for some reason I just haven't quite been able to find the fun in that one as easily as I can with CDDA - I know I'm probably missing something, but it just feels a little bit too combat-focused to me, whereas CDDA feels so much more centered around its two unfathomably massive but surprisingly accessible crafting menus that just blast my brain with dopamine every time I open them, and I am the kind of pervert who gets more endorphins from "building a brazier and figuring out how to heat up a can of beans in a video game" than "blowing up a guy's head with my psychic powers." Of course, Caves of Qud is incredibly good, and I'll happily affix my seal of recommendation to it as well. Regardless, this is not a blog about either of those games (though don't be surprised if I end up sneaking a little CDDA interlude in later down the line - probably when Rushsly meets its terrible end) so let's get back to the greatest simulation game of all time Dwarf Fortress.

ALSO IF YOU WANT TO GET INTO C:DDA, DON'T BUY IT ON STEAM LOL. IT'S A FREE AND OPEN SOURCE GAME. ONLY ONE OF THE MANY DEVS EVEN GETS ANY MONEY FROM STEAM SALES AND IT'S THE EXACT SAME VERSION AS THE STABLE BRANCH WHICH IS AVAILABLE FOR FREE. I mean I guess if you already like the game and just really want to pay $20 for Steam achievements then whatever I'm not a cop, but if you're just haphazardly tossing money around like that, you should throw some at me too, because I have barely any food in my house, $3.12 to my name, and am about to run out of cigarettes.

112 new bedrooms are all but complete, and thus need a bit of smoothing and engraving so that any new migrants don't feel ripped off. So many bags have been made and so much sand has been collected that getting all the furniture made and placed took hardly any time at all, helped along by the ridiculous amount of glass doors I made early on because I hate having to worry about doors.

Bunnies are here for some reason. We don't have much to export and they probably don't have anything we want, but whatever, I can whip them up some gold crafts real quick I suppose. The first thing anyone makes is...

a little figurine of a lapine killing a kobble. Well, okay. Yeah they can have that I guess

Down below, the forgotten beast creeps a little too close to the main caverns stairwell for comfort. It shouldn't be able to get in, at least not without making a racket far enough away from the civilians, but the military heads right back to their station. A fifteen-day leave is admittedly pretty short, but...

Well, the fate of these olm men who were hiding in wait is more than enough justification to get back to work.

It seems to have quite literally burned all its fat away. I remember when I was a kid I kept trying to look up "how to do a liposuction on yourself at home" and I never got any satisfying answers, the general consensus seemed to be don't do that, why the fuck would you do that, are you insane? so I just sort of gave up. I have always been pretty fat, even when I lifted weights every day, hell there was a time when I was snorting ritalin every day and only eating a small meal once every two or three, and I still had some pronounced titties. I'm reasonably active now and still have entire weeks at a time where I only eat one meal a day, but it never seems to go away. Being teased for having fat fucking boobs as a kid was probably the origin of several fetishes that still ravage my mind to this day but it's fine. Having a girlfriend say "your boobs are bigger than mine" definitely didn't do something very weird to my brain. I'm normal and have only the normal amount of body dysmorphia that makes you see your weight written down at a physical and go "wait, is that right?" because I was expecting to be 70 pounds heavier than that, and I don't resent my skinny fuck friends with such fast metabolisms that they can eat 4 entire family-sized bags of potato chips a day and still lose weight while my body takes days on end to digest a single small bowl of salad. It's totally fine because high school is over and has been over for a long time and I didn't get to be beautiful like I wanted and that's fine. I hardly even loathe myself for my appearance anymore, I've grown into kind of a chubby Adonis whose somber beauty would stun everyone he passed on the street if he ever let down his hair. I won't, of course, because I am deeply terrified of being made an object of desire, and other weird people don't bother me at all anymore when I tie my long hair up and hide it under a hat, besides maybe a guy who's piss drunk loudly talking to himself about how he could beat everyone in this train station's ass at 11 in the morning and gets strangely entranced by the bright warm color of your sweatshirt like a fucking bull. But that's fine too. You just don't make eye contact or look his way or even give any kind of recognition that he even exists. Oops, but for some reason he walked all the way over to get on the same train car as you, even though you specifically walked away from him! Just sit down and stare out the window until you lose aggro. Pause the music in your headphones so you can hear him talk about how tough he is and watch everyone else on the entire train try just as hard as you to not acknowledge him. At one point you catch him seeing his own reflection in the mirror and talking to it like another person. Don't worry, he'll get off in just a couple stops. Why was he taking the train while sipping straight off an open bottle of liquor before noon? Where is he going? Just let these questions slip away from your mind as you unpause the album you've listened to 80 times already. You will cross paths with several hundred other people today, but this is the only one you'll remember, and his drunk ass will DEFINITELY not remember you. Does that make you feel big, or does it make you feel small?

I have kind of a ballsy plan to deal with this particular beast, and make a bulwark against future ones: digging fortifications into the caverns will let my marksbolds fire... at least somewhat safely, I hope. I'm going to find out the hard way whether it can blast fire into the fortifications, but I at least know for sure we can blast bolts out of them.

As that gets put together, we get a BIG migrant wave - 22 in all, and quite a few animals with them. I'll go inspect them later, this project is a bit nerveracking.

We'll start with just one tile - that way, if it can fire back, we at least won't have put any more civilians in harms way than we absolutely had to.

One of the newbies, Syl Destinedechoes. I'm so nervous it's starting to hurt my stomach

IT'S WORKING!!!!!!!!!

And slowly but safely, Rushsly gains its second Beast Slayer, Vala Knitpolish.

It means nothing to her. Well, I'm sure she'll feel better about it once she gets a fancy new bedroom. Oh, and a statue -

In the midst of the chaos, I decided Ace Steel's room would look even better with a statue, so I had a gold one commissioned of her chopping the forgotten beast Murlu's head off. Either way, Vala's fond of zinc, which is a metal we haven't actually used at all yet, but it's no bother at all to go crack into a couple sphalerite veins for a hero.

We can only hope it improves her outlook on life; the game lists her at the most neutral possible emotional state, "content," but her personality tab stating that "she doesn't really care about anything anymore" is kind of sad - any kobble should be overjoyed to have killed a forgotten beast. Maybe she thought the way we did it was too cheesy? Well, we'll see how she feels with a zinc-walled bedroom and a statue in her likeness.

The amount of livestock is getting pretty damn high, and I don't like keeping them up on the surface, so it's time to dig an artificial pasture underground where they can munch on floor fungus to their hearts' content - and once that's taken care of, their old pasture will be a great place to set up some siege weaponry. I've historically had shit luck with ballistas, just because the "only hits targets on the same Z level" part is a bit painful to work with, so I'm going straight for catapults instead.

It's party time again! The fortress is safe for another little while and spirits are high. Let's dig into a random assortment of the new kobbles.

I don't know if any of them will ever do anything important - I automatically like Kasa Palmgazes because he came to Rushsly already a high master miner, and the black kobbles just look cool.

I really really particularly enjoy Rias standing off to the side, watching the party, and just thinking "Merriment is worthless." He's literally one of those wojak memes. It rocks

Vala's statue is completed, and her room is finished. Just next door, Ace Steel's husband Zolr secrets away a meal from the dining room, eats it alone in the bedroom, and then complains about the lack of dining tables. He's a bastard. But he's also living the ultimate dream of "glomming on to a vastly more famous and successful wife without having to really work or anything" so, well, I can't help but put in the order for a table for him.

Bad design jumpscare lol!!!! You thought you'd seen the last of that horrible fucking floor, didn't you. Well too bad. I think it's funny and now you have to look at it again. Anyway, Kikli Shakenmarks, bored at church, decides she's going to create an artifact or at the very least go insane trying. Will she succeed? You'll have to find out on the next episode of Rushsly because I want to go back to C:DDA now. I think this is probably the end of the second arc, we've proven our mettle against the layer-1 forgotten beasts and are nigh completely self-sufficient. I'm actually pretty proud of that, usually I have at least one big weakness as far as resources/production goes and just rely on trading to fill the gap, but these kobbles really got their shit together. I'll try to think of a cool title for the next arc, but it's probably going to end up not being that cool, or if it is cool it won't actually be relevant, which will in turn diminish the coolness. Ok yeah bye

#dwarf fortress #kobblefort

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cheeseandstrawberrytartlover · 2 years

Text

Her Siblings on the Horizon

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Sereyna's dreams have always been light, but now... they felt heavier than ever.

She was chained by her arms. She couldn't break them. Suddenly they were floating in the air as forces pulled on both chains, elevating her with their force. She felt like she was being ripped apart from both forces.

That's when she felt a slight touch on her shoulder. She flinched and opened her eyes.

"You sleep in like a damn princess."

Hadvar was standing in front of her with a bag thrown over his shoulder.

"What?"

The demiprince rubbed her eyes.

"Did you grow up a noble? 'Cause you sure sleep like one."

"You... could say that."

"It's noon. I wanted to say goodbye to you. I am heading to Solitude."

The imperial soldier turned around only to stop.

"Thank you... for helping me escape, Sereyna. I hope we will see each other again."

"Goodbye, Hadvar."

Sereyna lay in bed for many more minutes, hearing everyone's goodbyes to Hadvar. She would not be able to fall asleep again, so she made her way upstairs.

"So Hadvar was right. You were still sleeping."

"Yes, I am awake now."

Alvor quickly got a little pouch from a chest and held it out towards Sereyna.

"For helping me with the forge yesterday."

"I cannot take that."

"No, please. It would make me very happy if you took it."

Why would it make you happy to lose money? Sereyna did not understand, but they took it.

"Thank you."

Sigrid had a little bag. A similar bag to what Hadvar had on his shoulder.

"And here. Stay safe, Sereyna. Thank you for helping us."

The demiprince blinked a few times in disbelief.

"You are always welcome here, child. Come back whenever you want to, alright?"

She nodded and decided to bow at this friendly gesture to the shock of the humans.

"Thank you very much. I will inform the Jarl as soon as possible."

Sereyna promptly exited the house and waved goodbye to her new friends while coming closer to a bridge.

Once she crossed it, they noticed an elk running across the road. Out of nowhere, she had a deep urge to chase it. Her Daedric instincts weren't that strong, but they could still be activated.

She growled at the far away deer, but watched it as it crossed the river to the other side and vanished behind a few rocks.

"Get yourself together, Sereyna," she reminded herself angrily.

Sereyna continued on her journey. In order to distract herself, she looked at the nearby trees along the road. Furthermore, they also concentrated on the sound of the river.

What... did she even look like? They walked over to the other side of the road and crouched down next to the water.

Her face had ash on it and a bit of dirt which she immediately got rid of with some river water.

If she would have told her Sheogorath about this... they would have immediately gotten them back home, but she was here to prove herself. To prove her worth as a demiprince and as a strong being in general. They should not give up like that.

So they went on. Along the road, she grabbed an apple from her bag as she walking past a farm house. At another farm house ahead, Sereyna noticed a battle scene and she put the apple in her mouth to grab her battle axe.

Only once she approached the battle scene, she realized the enemy was a giant and joined in with the people already battling it.

She only got a few blows to its knees in before it fell over dead.

One of the people who had been fighting the giant, a red-headed woman, immediately complained, "We had it already! You wasted your energy. Let the companions do their job."

The companions, huh? Sereyna finally took a bite from her apple.

The group of people made their way back to Whiterun, but one man turned around momentarily. His face was quite dirty and painted. He had brown hair that ended at his shoulders.

"Ignore Aela. Thank you for helping out. The companions could use a warrior like you."

Sereyna noticed a musky, wet smell and it was not coming from the giant. It was more... familiar. She made a simple guess.

"I am sorry. I do not play with puppies."

The man lowered his eyebrows in confusion and moved on. Sereyna knew that their little "gift" did not come directly from Hircine. It had a bit of a... different smell.

The demiprince stretched and followed the companions to the gate of Whiterun where she got stopped.

Jenassa was just casually eating her lunch at the Drunken Huntsman until she heard bosmeris at the counter. That made her curious. Was there a new elf in Whiterun? It was about time.

But as she looked around the corner, it was a young human with red, curly hair. Huh. Why can they speak bosmeris? Ah. Who cares.

Jenassa sat back down on her chair. The odd human came over to the dunmer woman.

"Yes?"

Sereyna could barely speak. That was how nervous she was. She didn't know why but her heart made odd movements in her chest.

"I uhm- Os leysha'ag ist os -kar hire ohuhl."

The dunmer rouge slowly raised her eyebrows.

"You speak Dunmeri and Bosmeri?"

"Yes, I do. At least a little bit. I am not too confident in my skill."

"Five hundred drakes for my service, but since you impressed me... let us say... three hundred fifty."

Sereyna counted her gold and handed over Jenassa's payment.

"Are we going immediately?"

"I would prefer it, yes."

As Jenassa stood up, Sereyna noticed their height difference and her heart fluttered again. What is that awful feeling???? It's annoying.

"We have to go to the Jarl. You can show me the way, can you not?"

"Of course, I can."

Along their way up to the next district, Jenassa thought about the odd girl. Her weird accent, her weird way of speaking- Wait. She forgot something. She cleared her throat.

"So... what is your name?"

The demiprince's eyes lit up as they were walking up some stairs and she answered, "I am called Sereyna. What is your name?"

"Jenassa."

Sereyna giggled, "What a beautiful name."

Once they arrived at the top of the stairs, Sereyna was met with three pictures. A beautiful, but sickly tree, a temple of Kynareth and a statue of Talos.

So many opposites in one district, she thought. She was standing there for a second.

Jenassa was wondering why she stopped walking, "Are you okay?"

"I would like to see the temple first."

"Oh, whatever you want."

Sereyna took a left after walking past the sickly tree and entered the temple of Kynareth.

Sickly and injured people were lying on what were probably supposed to be benches. That did not harm the beauty of the temple, though. The tiles on the floor, the mosaic in the middle of the temple, the large windows that let sun light through... it was beautiful. Sereyna's eyes looked for the shrine and she found it pretty quickly.

A priestess approached Sereyna and greeted her happily, "Hello, I have not seen you here before. Why are you here? Are you here to pray?"

Sereyna smiled, "You could say that."

"Then welcome!"

Sereyna nodded and walked over to the shrine. She got on her knees in front of the shrine and placed her hands at the base of it. After a while, she closed her eyes.

"Uncle Kynareth?"

Her mind was dark for a little while until a bright silhouette entered.

The demiprince got reminded of the first time she actually met Kynareth. Kynareth took her on her lap and explained to her the significance of nature.

"Every tree you see, every animal you might encounter... they all have spirits. Be kind to them, Sereyna and I and the flora and fauna of Nirn may guide you on difficult adventures."

Kynareth took the little demiprince's hand and held it out. After a few seconds a bird landed on Sereyna's hand.

"I will try to make you proud, uncle Kynareth."

"You will make me proud. No trying needed, my dear."

The Deity of Heavens planted a soft kiss on Sereyna's forehead.

Kynareth smiled at Sereyna's memory.

Suddenly Sereyna startled awake as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh, apologies, sera, I did not mean to disturb you, but we should go to the Jarl before it is the inappropriate time."

"Of course."

They made their way up to the cloud district but Sereyna couldn't overhear a local priest of Talos, screaming and yelling about his god. It annoyed them deeply, but she moved on.

Inside of the large wooden and stone structure called Dragonsreach, at least according to Jenassa, they approached slowly as they heard the Jarl talking to his closest servants.

Once they reached a hearthfire, the demiprince noticed an angry dunmer woman approaching. They made long eye contact and the second she was too close, Sereyna danced around the hearthfire and ran towards the Jarl.

"No, do not bother the JARL HE IS BUSY-"

The dunmer woman ran after Sereyna and tried to grab her, but the demiprince was too quick.

The Jarl looked at the odd girl and asked curiously, "Irileth! Let her through! Why are you disturbing my court?"

"Helgen was completely destroyed by a large dragon. My friend Alvor-"

"A dragon? So the reports are correct... Are you sure you saw a dragon?"

"Yes, a large, black, fire spewing dragon. I was at Helgen myself and I saw him."

The Jarl covered his face momentarily.

"This is bad. Let us talk to Farengar."

Jarl Balgruuf arose from his throne and Sereyna followed him to a mage. Probably the court mage.

"Farengar, I have found someone for your... dragon project."

"Really? Wonderful!

"He will tell you all about his little project. Be nice to her, Farengar. She has just escaped a terrible death."

That was when the Jarl walked back to his throne and left them alone.

"So you want to help, yes? Did you truly see a dragon."

"Yes, I have."

"How big was it?!"

"Ah, uhm- bigger than a house?"

"Ohhh magnificent! I uhm- I have a job for you to do."

"What kind of job?"

"Ah, so you are not just a mercenary I see. It is good to see another thinker. I need you to retrieve a stone. A dragon stone."

"And the dragon stone has... dragon language on it?"

"Yes, I heard that it has the alphabet of the dragon language on it! I need it for my studies."

"Alright, where is it?"

"In a ruin called Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Oh, I know where that is."

"You do? Then go! Go to it and bring me the stone."

"Whaaat do I get for it?"

"Gold, anything! Anything you need!"

"Deal."

Sereyna turned around just to walk against Jenassa. Her entire face became a bright pink.

"Oh, apologies-"

"No worries, sera."

#oc: sereyna (ldb)#jenassa #companions #skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #fanfiction #elder scrolls

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grimm-rider · 1 year

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Entry 3

Our first day in Whitethrone was eventful as hell. There was a little bit of everything. Intrigue, an underground rebellion, an incredibly attractive woman, Aenland almost getting an entire parade of enemies chasing after us, forged documents, an opera, and…learning some more things about my lost time…

Anyways one thing at a time.

We arrived at the Fish Camp. A lovely little place that served as the stinking cesspool of slums for Whitethrone. I managed to pull a gentleman aside and got some information that Nadya’s uncle Ringeirr had been taken by some thugs who called themselves the Fish Camp Guard. Just a bunch of bandits who force people to pay them protection money to not be harassed.

Quite frankly Rohkar and his men were more intimidating than this lot. And Rohkar and his men weren’t terribly intimidating at the end of the day so…take from that what you will.

We heard a commotion and stopped some of the Fish Guard from harassing some guy. We kept two alive, but killed the other two. There wasn’t really a point in keeping more than one alive, we just needed one alive to question about the location of their boss.

We were pointed in the direction of a large building with the words “guardhouse” painted on it—poorly. The windows were boarded up and there was only one door. So Nestian decided to knock.

Because why wouldn’t he?

An ogre called back in giant, which none of us spoke. Then the door swung open and one of the thug’s ogre guards attacked Nestian. Aenland followed the ogre’s attack up with three arrows—and the ogre fell over, completely dead.

The thug boss appeared from invisibility, sobbing and begging for mercy—while stabbing Nestian. Because that’s the best way to get mercy. Stabbing the person you want mercy from.

I stepped into the room and Boneshakered the pathetic coward. He whined that this wasn’t mercy at all. I told him he should have thought about that before he stabbed my bear companion. And besides, I’m not the merciful one in this group. He just whimpered like the pathetic creature he was in return.

Edeya sent Snezhinka to bite the man, but he managed to dodge. The fox growled and negative energy dripped from her mouth.

I enjoy that murderous little fox.

A second ogre barreled into the room, yelling out his dead companion’s name.

Unfortunately I was directly in his line of sight, and ended up on the receiving end of his hook, despite Nestian’s best attempt to shield me. I feel like I’ve gotten hardier since I first woke up—that sort of blow probably would have done me in a week ago, but this time around I took two hits from the ogre’s hook and was still standing for long enough to see Nestian take the ogre down. At the same time Aenland took care of Mr ‘have mercy’.

Nadya freed her uncle from the back room. He helped us to disable a trap from the thugs’ lock box. Well…disable in a manner of speaking. More like set off while trying to disable it, and then laughing it off when he got shot by a poisonous dart.

Ringeirr invited us back to his place so we could plan in peace. Back at his hut, we discussed what we intended to do. He was going to lead us through a district called The Howlings, to a forger he knew who would write up papers for us to walk through the city undetected. The biggest problem was that in order to enter the Howlings, they were going to check for our papers. The good news was, the Winter Wolves checking for papers at the Howlings gate were a lot more likely to take a bribe and look the other way than the Winter Witches at the main gate.

So I asked the obvious question. Would they be more likely to let one of their own in with no questions asked? Ringeirr said yes, but you’d need a Rimepelt to do that. So I showed off the Rimepelt, which we’d renegotiated me holding onto because I’d had a feeling it might be useful for getting in the front gate. I thought it would be a good idea if I pretended to be a Winter Wolf and Edeya pretended to be a White Witch, and everyone else was our guest or slave. Most everyone decided they wanted papers for the upper crust—guests and nobility. Certainly, I was going that route when not disguised as a Winter Wolf. They could openly carry weapons and could get away with more. Nestian was the only one who didn’t feel comfortable claiming to be upper class, and said he was going to get papers that claimed himself as a slave. He felt he would be less conspicuous that way.

With everything decided, we made our way to the gates of Whitethrone. As he approached, I activated the Rimepelt.

I expected to become a giant white wolf. Instead, my skin became a healthier fair skintone, my hair became silver, and my eyes became a pale…blue? Blue according to Ringeirr. Looks about white to me so I’ll take his word for it.

Anyways, apparently this is what all Winter Wolves in Whitethrone look like, unless they choose not to. Winter Wolves are apparently terribly, unbearably, jealous of humans and our opposable thumbs, and how we can use them to do things like open doors, and cast spells, and open jars.

Honestly, if I couldn’t do all those things, I’d probably be pretty jealous of people who could, too.

Unfortunately for Winter Wolves, they can only become human in two places: The Howlings, and Redfang. Baba Yaga gave them that ability in these two spots. Everywhere else they’re pretty similar to other wargs, except giant and white and able to create cold from their breath.

But for now do you know what that meant?

It meant I got to be beautiful again for a while.

It wasn’t quite the same as getting my original looks back, but it was a very acceptable substitute. White hair isn’t a bad look.

No…not a bad look at all…

Speaking of which, we came to the gate. There were two Winter Wolves guarding the gate. Only one matters to this journal though. Greta. She’s the one who stopped us to ask for our papers. I told her that I needed to get my friends through. Winter Wolf business.

Greta said that normally she’d be all for turning a blind eye to us coming in, but there was a big parade today and all. She needed a little something more to convince her. I went to slip some gold into her hand. She stopped me, placing her hand on mine, and saying I should keep the gold and use it to buy her a drink at the tavern.

To say I was intrigued was an understatement.

I hadn’t had a man or woman look at me like that since I lost my good looks. And Greta is quite the looker herself. Like…damn.

I know, I know, some people would have some things to say about the fact she’s a wolf in human form. Know what I have to say to them? No one makes a big deal about people fucking dragons in human form. They’re just big intelligent lizards who can become human. What’s the difference?

Anyways I took her up on the offer. Greta told her coworker she was going on break, and said she could guide us through the city. And off we went.

It wasn’t terribly far in that we got jumped by a pack of…terribly unintelligent ice goblins thugs called the Back-Alley Boys. They tried to mug us, before I pointed out that they’d chosen really poor targets. They registered that they appeared to have targeted two Winter Wolves and a White Witch, and immediately apologized and danced their way back into their hiding spot.

Greta was happy that they didn’t bite her ankles this time. Apparently there’s some history there.

Not long afterwards we had our second encounter—a Mirror Man. Edeya identified it, after getting over her sudden case of the shakes. She told us that it could record a minute of what it saw and so long as its mirror was intact it could bring it back to its master. It could instantly send a message to its master. And like all expensive scrying mirrors, there was the chance its Winter Witch master would just pop up on the mirror to take a peek out of its non-existent eyes. The Mirror Men wandered the streets silently demanding to see people’s papers—and taking people away who didn’t comply. And this one was coming towards us with purpose. We decided there was only one course of action we could take—Nestian needed to break the mirror in a single swing.

Our bear companion (although he was currently in human form to not draw attention) did as much, and then we hid the Mirror Man corpse in the fish cart Ringeirr had brought along with us. Greta seemed to find the entire situation amusing more than anything. Thankfully she doesn’t seem to bear any particular loyalty towards the White Witches or the queen.

It didn’t take much longer to reach Denya’s Dive, a hole in the wall bar where Ringeirr stopped to make his deliveries—both illicit and the literal fish. He stashed the Mirror Man in Denya’s basement.

The rest of us went inside the establishment and met Denya Donovan. I immediately recognized the name as the name of Domonik Donovan’s father—the father of the boy who had been murdered by Vasillanova and turned into a guardian doll, and from the looks on the others’ faces so did they.

Nestian ended up writing him a letter to open later—but after I asked a question that happened to lead into him talking about how his son got taken away in the first place, Nestian told him he should open the letter now. It seemed to bring some closure, and reignited the man’s hatred for Vasillanova—and perhaps eventually his will to act on it.

I spent much of the time before this happened chatting with Greta. Apparently, she frequented this bar often, and Denya knew to bring us both an excellent spiced wine. We talked, laughed, had a general good time. She’s clever, and fun, very attractive, and a bit dangerous. I definitely enjoyed our time together.

After Ringeirr came back, we discussed our plans for what was next. We would be making our way to the opposite side of the Howlings to meet with Ringeirr’s forger friend to get fake papers made, then after that we would be going to a place called the Water Palace to enter a hidden tunnel into the sewers to meet the Milani rebellion—the Heralds of Summer’s Return.

Greta was surprisingly chill about all of this illegal talk right in front of her, and I was rather surprised that everyone just started talking about it without even trying to distract her (I’d have gladly found a way to distract her, even if it meant I’d have to get caught up with the plan myself later). Still, it all worked out, her stance on it was basically so long as she didn’t get dragged into anything she didn’t care. And it kind of seemed like even if she did get dragged into something she didn’t really care, really. She was a bit apathetic towards the entire situation—which, honestly, I don’t blame her, to her it was probably all just work and political bullshit.

It was just after we finished arguing about Denya not being willing to make bombs anymore because of his history with his son being taken away because of his past illicit bomb making activities, that we heard distant singing in giant. It grew closer, and as we looked out the window we saw a parade of ogres, winter wolves, and mirror men leading a carriage pulled by two snowy white steeds.

They turned a corner, and suddenly stopped as an old woman began slowly crossing the streets. Chaos erupted as the ogres approached in confusion. They looked between the old woman and the carriage with uncertainty. I watched the carriage—just in time to see the door swing open and two women emerge. One was an unfamiliar face identified to me as Bella Belvorica, a Chelish opera singer of some renown. The other was far more familiar. We’d seen ice statues of her at the Pale Tower.

Nazhena Vasillanova in the flesh stepped from the carriage.

Aenland immediately did the most Aenland thing and decided he had to play hero. He couldn’t just let things play out as they were going to, even though the odds were impossible. He couldn’t wait for things to clear up a little and come out afterwards. Oh no. He had to climb up onto the roof, and watch from a sniper’s position as Vasillanova argued with the old woman.

The old woman believed herself untouchable because she was Jadwiga. Not even Vasillanova would dare kill a Jadwiga. She even went so far as to prod the Winter Witch with her cane.

Vasillanova formed an ice sickle, placing it under the old woman’s throat. She told her that she was Jadwiga Elvana, her great grandmother was the queen, which meant she was more important than her.

Then she pulled away and laughed, saying she wasn’t insane, she wouldn’t kill a woman just for stopping a parade. She told her ogres to help her across the street and to get her to the grocery store. Then she leaned in and whispered to one of them.

I was able to read her lips—she told him “make it painful”.

Bitch. Absolute bitch.

…Why would anyone choose to be around her…?

…

Anyways…

When the ogres grabbed the old woman, Aenland let three arrows fly—instantly killing one of the ogres. He yelled something about how Milani sends her regards, or something. Then he shot another barrage of arrows and killed the other ogre—allowing the old woman to run for her life right before Vasillanova sped off in her now hasted carriage.

Nestian ducked out and—ignoring Aenland’s plan to run for it and lead them away from us—pulled Aenland inside with us. Most of the parade followed Vasillanova to protect her, but a few stragglers remained behind to investigate where the arrows had come from. Including two Mirror Men.

We hastily thought up the idea to hide everyone without papers in the basement as the Mirror Men approached. I stayed upstairs because Winter Wolves don’t need papers. Nadya stayed upstairs and started a very amusing mock argument with her uncle, yelling and screaming at him about something or another. I didn’t really catch basically any of it, but the subject didn’t really matter, what mattered was it made the entire air incredibly awkward when the Mirror Men entered and they saw Ringeirr positively cowering before Nadya ranting and raving at him, before she positively thrust her papers at the Mirror Men with some comment about how ‘at least *she* had her papers’.

The extreme awkwardness seemed to work, as no questions were asked about why she was in town despite her papers being non-local.

It was hilarious. She had them completely fooled. I didn’t realize she had such good acting chops.

After things calmed down, we reconvened and began making our way to the forger’s house. We had one little encounter with a Winter Wolf and an Ice Troll along the way, just outside our destination, but it was barely worth mentioning. We killed them without an issue, saved some slave, met the forger, and disposed of the bodies at his house by chopping them up and setting them on fire.

I think the only thing worth mentioning was that Greta killed the ice troll and…damn. I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing such a powerful woman at work before. I mean, yeah, Nadya’s strong and all, but Greta’s powerful.

Anyways, we made it to the forger’s house. Greta bid me goodbye for the time being, but she gave me the address of a bar she frequented and said if I wanted some more fun I should meet her there. I assured her I was definitely up for some more fun, and that I’d see her soon.

After she left Aenland of all people accosted me with concerns that she was not to be trusted, after how we’d been betrayed by Miriam. I assured him that his worries were unfounded, this was nothing like that. I’m fairly good at reading people—and fairly good at being suspicious of people—and the only vibes I get off Greta is that she is totally into me. And I know when someone is into me, I’ve done that song and dance more than a few times. He pressed the issue, unconvinced despite my assurances, so I decided to get nasty about it and noted that last time it was me who had wanted to not be so trusting of Miriam and be so open with her. I didn’t say it outright but my intention was the implication ‘so who here is the better judge of character?’ I think for once Aenland understood my implication because he stomped off in a huff.

Nestian told me I should be nicer to Aenland, because the entire situation with Miriam really hurt him. I told Nestian I didn’t get why. She’d betrayed us and we killed her—that’s what happens. I don’t get why Aenland took it so personally. Nestian said I didn’t have to understand it, his emotions were still valid. That answer was…incredibly frustrating. That doesn’t answer anything. All it does it says ‘it doesn’t matter if you don’t understand, just accept it’.

Edeya said that maybe the issue was that I *had* been the one person who hadn’t fully trusted Miriam, and as a result I didn’t feel as strongly about it. She told me to imagine if it were her who betrayed them instead, and how that would hurt. I told her straight up that I wouldn’t be hurt, I would be pissed. Because I would. If she betrayed us, I’d be pissed off at her for turning against us. I don’t know if hurt factors into it. Edeya said it was just her two cents and walked off.

I still don’t get it. But I’ll try to play along.

After some waiting around, we each received our papers, and we were finally free to walk the streets a little more freely.

Now it was time to meet the resistance.

Along the way, we passed through the Market Square. There we got our first look at the Dancing Hut, bound there by Dimensional Shackles. Before it were spikes of bone upon which the White and Red Riders were impaled as symbols of Baba Yaga’s defeat. The Black Rider was nowhere to be seen—and there was only one space for a body, not four.

Either news hadn’t reached Vasillanova of us yet, or we weren’t being considered legitimate threats.

If it was the later, we were going to make them regret that mistake.

We tore ourselves away from the sad sight of the shackled hut, and returned to the mission at hand. We arrived at the Water Palace, Ringeirr took us to a room that was far too cramped for all of us, and then a wall opened up leading into a hidden tunnel into the sewers. Aenland make a big stink about going into the sewers because he’s a prissy noble.

Not that I wanted to go in the dirty sewers, either, but I know what has to be done.

We arrived in the hideout of the Heralds of Summer’s Return. There we met a cleric by the name of Solveig, a follower of Milani. She made fast friends with Aenland after she heard about his exploits saving the old woman in her goddess’ name—despite some bad blood Milani might have with full blooded elves. Doesn’t seem like Milani minds Aenland, though. She showed him her favor by sending a couple of white mice to run around nearby while he was talking about slaying their shared foe Treerazor, although I don’t think Aenland noticed them.

I’m not telling him. He doesn’t need to get an even bigger head than he already has, thinking he’s favored by a god.

Solveig told us they were on the brink of a major operation, and could use some help to push it into the final stages. She had four missions she needed completed, three in small groups and one major mission we should save until last and do together.

The first was removing wanted posters of known rebels and replacing them with powerful figures. Not anyone who would actually get arrested, but people who it would humiliate Vasillanova and cause a scandal if they were to be stopped in the streets and questioned or asked for their papers. Aenland and Nadya took that mission.

Thank whichever gods that I would get a mission without having to hear a single word from the elf.

The second mission was to go to the opera. The rebellion had procured two tickets for fancy box seats. They planned to send up a poisoned bottle of wine to the box, which needed to be delivered to Vasillanova’s box. The poison would both make her embarrassingly inebriated during the production, and for the next few days it would make her debilitatingly light sensitive—giving us an advantage if we attacked during that window of opportunity. I also got the feeling there was more to this mission than just that—with the information we knew about Solveig and the singer Bella, I was pretty sure what she really wanted was for me to check in on how Bella was doing. To make sure her girlfriend was alright.

I volunteered for this mission, of course. Talking some poor sap into delivering poison straight to Vasillanova would be a breeze. And then I could enjoy the rest of the show with a particular gorgeous Winter Wolf’s company.

Things were…a bit more complicated than that.

The last of the initial missions was smashing a seemingly abandoned mirror store, where the resistance suspected the Winter Witches stored the materials to make Mirror Men. Edeya immediately volunteered, and Nestian decided to go alongside her.

The fourth and final mission was to slay a dragon.

Yeah.

So that’s going to be…fun.

Anyways, we all parted ways to do our various missions. I went on my own, back in Winter Wolf guise, to see Greta at the bar she’d given me the address to. She was waiting there as promised. She said she was glad I wasn’t scared off after all the excitement earlier, I agreed I was glad she wasn’t either.

I showed her the two tickets and she was almost speechless, wondering just how I’d managed to get opera tickets on such short notice when I’d only just gotten into town. Then she decided she didn’t want to know, and agreed to come along with me. She left to get into some nice clothes, and I went to get some nice clothes of my own.

With all the gold I’d gotten together on this journey so far, it was easy to get a very nice rush order together. Money, power, and good looks can get you everywhere in the world, and with the Winter Wolf guise I finally had all three.

It’s a shame this cloak doesn’t work this way everywhere. I’d just make myself look this way all the time. But anywhere else I’d just turn into a literal wolf. Less useful in most circumstances. It’s no wonder the Winter Wolves around here stay in their human forms all the time.

I really need to get my looks back. Baba Yaga owes me that much after we save her.

Anyways, I met with Greta outside of the opera house. She was even more gorgeous dressed up. She had this nice fitted midnight blue dress that complimented her curves, and a sheer cape that sparkled like starlight, and long white gloves. I almost felt outdone.

She took my arm and led the way to our box. She wasn’t the sort to let someone else take the lead it seemed. That is perfectly fine with me. I can follow along in this dance of ours on occasion.

In our box we were offered some refreshments by a servant, who then stepped outside and said he would be just outside if we needed anything. Then the two of us got back to talking. Greta noticed that the next box over was Vasillanova’s. She asked if I was scared. I told her that she didn’t scare me—at the time I felt it was true, all of my rage at Vasillanova had made me a bit emboldened. Greta laughed and said I should go over and say ‘hi’ then, to which I decided discretion was the better part of valor and declined.

Early in the night the servant with the poisoned wine came.

This is where things got…complicated.

Greta got excited, thinking I had ordered special wine for the two of us. I had to gently explain to her that this was ‘special’ wine, and it involved everything I’d been involved in earlier.

Greta visibly deflated, asking if *that* is what all this was really about.

I did damage control quickly, assuring her that this was merely how I had gotten the tickets. I needed to do one little thing that would only take a moment, and then the rest of the evening would be entirely focused on the two of us.

Greta seemed to loosen up a little, at least enough to be curious, and asked just what I was doing with this wine.

I told her I was sending it over as a ‘gift’ to Vasillanova’s box. When she asked if it was like cyanide or something, I told her unfortunately nothing that strong. Just a little something to embarrass her—and give her one hell of a hangover.

Greta brightened considerably. She said she’d literally pay to see the aftermath of this, so she was in.

With all the wrinkles smoothed over, I grabbed the servant who had been waiting outside the door, and asked him to deliver the wine to Vasillanova ‘with my compliments’, because she looked like she was having a hard night and needed a little pick-me-up.

I settled back in my chair, satisfied that my job was complete.

I shouldn’t have been so quick to let my guard down.

A moment later a hand grasped my shoulder. When I looked up, I was staring dead into the eyes of Nazhena Vasillanova.

And she was smiling.

She exclaimed that she was so happy to see me again, that she hadn’t known I was in town, and why hadn’t I said anything? Was the bottle of wine from me?

I quickly gathered my wits about me and played along. Of course, the wine was a gift! It was meant to be a surprise that I was back in town—I hoped I hadn’t caught her too off guard.

Nazhena laughed it off, saying I knew she loved surprises. It was, after all, a surprise when I had introduced Radosek to her.

So…that’s a thing that happened. Apparently I introduced Radosek Pavril and Nazhena Vasillanova to each other. The two worst people we’ve met so far knew each other because of me.

I had a flash of memory at that. Just a scrap. I was at a party, and Nazhena was there with me. She was begging me to introduce her to someone nice. I looked around and saw Radosek talking to some people, trying to impress them with his goat familiar, and pointed him out. I told her that she and him deserved each other.

Well…I was right. They did deserve each other.

She said that there was some tragic news involving Radosek (oh don’t I know it, he’s sitting in my bag waiting to see her), but that she was also looking to the future.

As she said that she had a particular look while watching that Chelish singer, Bella. It appeared Nazhena had set her eyes on Solveig’s girlfriend as Radosek’s replacement. So that’s probably not going to please our dear rebel leader much.

Nazhena then told me that she was getting a promotion. She was going to be the new head of the Winter Witches. I congratulated her, doing my best to sound sincere and not cringe at the idea of giving congratulations to the worst person I know for her promotion in the worst group I know.

Nazhena asked if her great grandmother—aka Queen Elvana—knew that I was back, or if I was going to surprise her as well. I quickly tried to convince her to keep it a surprise. She was hesitant, but she agreed.

Then Nazhena had the Winter Wolf who had entered the box with her open the wine bottle and pour two glasses—one for each of us—and toasted to me. To my return to power and my position.

What position had that been? Just who was I in the last year, getting tangled up with Urgathoa and going to parties with Nazhena and Radosek? And the queen knows me too? She didn’t react in any way when she saw me over Radosek’s mirror—but then again, she said she had been scrying on the Black Rider’s death, so she knew even before then that I was mixed up in this.

Nazhena drank the wine, and I pretended to drink—splashing the wine over my shoulder when no one was looking. With that out of the way, she said she really should be getting back to her box. She was (thankfully) taking the rest of the bottle with her, as it was a gift.

Once she was gone my act of calm completely shattered and I couldn’t breath for a moment. I hate that Greta saw me lose my cool like that. But I panicked. I hadn’t expected Nazhena to appear in my box with me alone like that. She could have killed me without even thinking about it if I’d slipped up.

My head is still spinning from all of the implications of everything Nazhena had said to me.

I calmed down enough to explain to Greta that I have a gap in my memories and that apparently there were some really important things I didn’t remember during that blank year. I told her I legitimately hadn’t realized I apparently knew Nazhena before she appeared in our box.

‘Knew’ was an understatement, I introduced her to her would-be fiancé. Even if I don’t get the feeling I thought very highly of either of them. Which…why would I?

…I think I believe now even more than before that Radosek was fooling around behind Nazhena’s back with me, given the difference in how he acted towards me vs how she did. He definitely had a spurned lover vibe. And given how friendly she was I think Nazhena never found out.

Anyways…I don’t think I’m going to really figure out more than wild guesses writing about more here.

So, more importantly, the rest of Greta and my date.

The opera was lovely. And even more lovely was Nazhena making an absolute fool of herself in front of an entire audience of Winter Witches by clapping and cheering drunkenly at the wrong time. She left in humiliation not long afterwards. During intermission Greta was literally howling with laughter, and I was right there with her.

The rest of the night was…really great, honestly. Greta has so far proven to be the most engaging date I’ve had the pleasure of having. Everyone back home was so boring. No one was worth my time. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t been with anyone for a while, but this is the most fun I can remember ever having going out with someone. Even if we took out the part where we humiliated a powerful Winter Witch in front of a crowd of people, this date would have been leagues ahead of all others.

Too bad it’s not going to last. She’s either going to dump me or rip my throat out once she sees my true form. Maybe both at the same time.

Ah well…

#pathfinder #journal entry #reign of winter

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dirtywresling102 · 1 year

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Overtime - Razor Ramon (18+)

Razor Ramon x Marco

Commission: @magicbaaaaaby

Summary: Nearly clocking out, a customer calls for room service and Marco delivers, getting a very big tip.

Warnings: 18+, Male x Male, Oral, Smut, Cussing, Body Worshiping.

Word Count: 4,004

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Enjoy!

9:59 PM

Only one more minute and I got to clock out from a long shift. I thought it was a good idea to work more hours to earn more money. The holidays were over now, nobody wanted to work extra hours since they weren’t rushing to save to buy gifts for their loved ones. My tired eyes stared at the clock, this felt like the longest sixty seconds ever.

I caught myself yawning, covering my mouth and closing my eyes. I was miles from home but I could hear my bed calling me. With my clock out card in hand I sighed out in relief as it turned 10:00 PM. Twelve long hours and I was free to go. About to slip my card in the machine to stamp me out, my manager called me. “Marco.”

I gritted my teeth, I swear I was doing everything for him today. “Yes, Justin?” I asked in a bored tone. I didn’t even bother facing him, my eyes were still glued on the little clock in the machine. I just wanted to go home, take a shower, watch some television and fall asleep.

“Hey, before you go, that wrestler ordered room service.” He said.

Groaning, I gripped the clock out card in my hand, crumpling it. “Can’t you do that? I’ve been here since 10 this morning.” I nearly hissed, trying to watch my tone. Justin wasn’t even my boss, he was my boss's son.

“Yeah, well I have other things that need to be done. You know, management things.” What he meant by that was looking at half naked women in his playboy magazine while he relaxed in the office chair.

Shutting my tired eyes, I exhaled a breath. Knowing I needed the money, it wouldn’t be so hard. Ten minutes tops and I’m out. I had to double think about my bills and remind myself that they were worth it. Putting my crumpled time card back in the slot I huffed. “Fine, I’m getting paid for it though.” Finally I faced the man. “What does he want?” I asked.

“He wants bath towels, pillows and a pizza.” Justin read the sticky note that was next to the phone.

“What room?” I grumbled.

“314, he’s waiting.”

“Did you even order the pizza?” I looked at him, hoping he did.

“Hmm, no I forgot.” Justin said, sitting down, flipping to the next page of the magazine only to wolf whislte. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the phone. “He wanted cheese.” Justin added. Glaring at Justin for not getting the pizza order in, I dialed the nearest pizza joint.

Hanging up the phone, I huffed. “Thanks to you, the pizza is getting here late.”

“Uh-huh.” Justin said, paying no mind to what I was saying as he flipped through the magazine, his eyes glued to the naked women. “Why don’t you relax and wait for the pizza?” Justin asked, opening the small fridge next to him and grabbing a beer. “The old man is out of town and you get to hang out with the cool boss.” Justin cracked open the can and took a sip. “Look at some women with me.” Justin flipped the magazine towards me. I glimpsed at the women on the pages, her legs spread showing their bushes and exposed breasts.

My face turned a slight pink, never seeing a woman pose like that before. I had to quickly look away. “Not my thing.” I mumbled, staring out at the door wishing this pizza delivery boy would come quicker.

“‘Not your thing?’” Justin repeated. I swallowed thickly, hoping I didn’t blow my cover. “Oh! You must be into those VHS pornos.” Justin wiggled his eyebrows. I exhaled a breath he didn’t notice.

“Uh yeah, something like that.” I mumbled, just glad that he didn’t put two and two together. Being gay in this time and age was frowned upon. One of my friends lost his job for being homosexual, he didn’t get flat out fired because the company knew that he’d sued. So, other coworkers bullied him until he quit. He had to move out of town and start a new life so he could live his life and not get bullied constantly.

The bell above the door rang as the delivery boy in his late teens entered with the box in his hands. “I have a pizza for Plaza Hotel?”

“Yeah, you’re at the right place, kid.” I fished for the hotel bank bag full of cash. Opening it I furrowed my brows to see it was empty. “Uh, Justin, where's the cash at?” I asked.

“I had to pay my car payment today, don’t worry I put an IOU in there, see?”

Just as he said it I pulled out a piece of paper with a large ‘IOU’ on it. I huffed, looking at the kid who was looking at me. “Are you going to pay mister? I have other deliveries.” The kid pointed out.

“Yes, I’m going to pay. How much is it?” I asked, tossing the hotel money bag on the desk and fished out my own wallet.

“Four ninety-nine.” The kid placed the pizza on the counter.

“Jesus, Four ninety-nine?” I asked as I opened my wallet. “What happened to three ninety-nine?” I grabbed a five dollar bill and placed it on top of the pizza.

“We have new owners now, they went up on some of the items.” The boy grabbed the money but still had his hand out.

“What? What?” I was a bit irritated as I grabbed the box of pizza to deliver it to the waiting guest in his room.

“My tip?” He arched an eyebrow as if I was stupid.

This boy obviously saw me have to pay for this pizza myself and wanted more. “Uh.” I looked around the lobby, behind the desk and finally over at Justin. Justin was grabbing yet another cold beer from the fridge and about to open it. I snagged it from his grip and tossed it to the boy. “Enjoy.” I gave him a fake smile.

“Oh sweet, thanks mister!” The delivery kid seemed happier with the beer than any money I’d give him. Possibly because he was a minor and it wasn’t easy scoring alcohol.

It’s nearly been an hour since the man ordered room service. I quickly made my way to the laundry room, grabbing three fresh towels and two pillows. I stacked them on top of the pizza. Passing by the lobby, Justin was still in his seat. “Room 420.” He reminded me.

I stopped in my tracks. “You said 314.” I corrected him.

“Wha- Oh, oh yeah. Room 314.” Justin didn’t even tear his gaze from the nudey magazine.

Rolling my eyes I quickly went to the elevator and pressed the third floor button. “Fucking idiot, we don’t even have a fourth floor.” I shook my head. I couldn’t believe that my boss left him in charge while he went away on vacation.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened. Stepping out and into the hallway, I took a right. Passing the doors I grumbled the numbers to myself. “312, 313 and 314.” Standing in front of the door, I arranged the items onto one hand and knocked with my free hand.

“About time.” I heard behind the door. Hearing the locks unclick, the door swung on the hinges making a slight creak. My eyes went to the edge of the door, making a mental note to put oil on the hinges before someone complains about the annoying sound. “You know, I ordered this an hour ago, right?”

My eyes tore away from the hinges and onto the person. “Yes, my apology-” I was quickly cut off by this man’s looks. “Holy shit, you’re Razor Ramon.” I choked out. I knew Justin said the customer that ordered room service was a wrestler but I didn’t think it was thee Bad Guy, Razor Ramon, Scott Hall.

“Yeah, I get that alot.” Ramon chuckled, opening the door wider. “Come on in.” My legs, being like jello, slowly walked into the room. I shut the door behind me. Looking over Ramon’s boy, he’s in shorts and nothing else. His chest and stomach is slightly hairy like a dark rainforest, his long raven hair is sweaty and curly, resting over his broad shoulders.

“Well, Mr. Ramon. I uh, have the towels, pillows and your pizza for you.” I placed everything on top of the dresser by the box television.

“No clean sheets?” He asked, his bushy eyebrow arched.

“Clean sheet?” I repeated.

“I told that little asshole to put clean sheets on the list.” He huffed.

“I can uh, quickly get you clean sheets.” I pipped in, I didn’t want to make Ramon’s stay terrible. He was paying a fortune for this room after all.

“Nah, I’ll sleep in the sweet juices.” He chuckled, noticing my confused face he added on. “Fucking all of those bitches made a mess.”

My face heated up. “O- Oh!” I swallowed, my eyes darting down to his cock, its outline bulging through his shorts. So he’s the reason for all of the noise complaints.

“You know what I’m saying, right?” He laughed, walking over towards the items I brought, he tossed the pillows onto the bed. “I used all of my towels to clean up their gushing messes.”

“I uh, I actually don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Ramon.” I spoke honestly.

He stopped what he was doing. “Please, call me Ramon. No need to be formal. What’s your name?” He smiled down at me. “Are you saying you’ve never made a lady squirt?” He read my facial expression.

Biting my lower lip, I couldn’t help but to trail over his muscular body. He must have just got done fucking since he was so sweaty, the room was cool enough to not make anyone sweat. In my opinion it was a little too cold. I noticed Roman’s nipples were slightly hard as I finally looked up into his hazel eyes as he waited for me to reply. “My name is Marco and no, I’ve never done that to a lady before.”

“Because you don’t have a strong dick game, Marco?” Ramon questioned, still not understanding.

I blushed as he used the word ‘dick’. No, I wouldn’t believe that was it, I thought I had a largely impressive cock for a man my age. “N- No, no. It’s not that. I’m saying I’ve never had a woman before.”

“You’re a virgin?”

“Well, yes. But I’m saying women don’t intrigue me.” It was quiet for a minute. I swallowed thickly, wishing I could quickly eat the words that spilled out of my mouth. I just ruined the chance to hang out with the baddest, coolest wrestler in the WWF. I was about to exit until he said something.

“Do I intrigue you?” Ramon’s voice became huskier and deeper. He took a step towards me, his pupils darker. I wanted to take a step away but my legs wouldn’t allow it. I let him tower over me, staring at me. “Come on kid, you haven’t stopped staring at my cock since you stepped in.” Ramon pointed out.

Another tinted blush hit my cheeks. My mouth became cotton-like. “Yes, yes you do.” I exhaled softly. My body was slightly shaking.

Ramon licked his plump lip. “I bet you listen so well, don’t you little one?” He purred, placing his hand underneath my chin and made me look into his chocolate eyes. “Say ‘yes daddy’ when I’m talking to you.”

“Y- Yes daddy.” I panted, I wasn’t expecting this when delivering room service. I was surprise that he was still hard after fucking all those women he was talking about.

“Good boy.” He purred.

My heart was pounding against my chest faster than ever, it felt like I just got done running a mile. My first time with a man was going to be Razor Fucking Ramon. I had no idea he swung both ways. His gimmick was being a lady’s man.

Ramon wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me close to his hairy and slightly sweaty skin. Ramon had a few inches on me in height. He ran his free hand through my hair, making me shiver. Leaning down, Ramon placed his soft lips against mine. We both moaned softly at the feeling of each other's lips. The kissing starts off slow, our lips molding into each other’s. Ramon’s tongue darts out and licks the bottom of my lip, asking for entrance.

I’m nervous, I’ve made out before but knowing I was under complete control by Razor Ramon had me shaking. Ramon grew impatient, the arm wrapped around my waist, his hand gripped my ass which made me gasp. Feeling Ramon smirking, his thick tongue slipped in between my gasping mouth and started to explore. His tongue swirls against mine, our tongues dance with each other, pushing and brushing up. He tasted like whiskey but it wasn’t anything too strong where I could get drunk off of.

Ramon slowly pulled away from the kiss, strings of saliva connected to our lips until it snapped away. I was slightly light headed, nearly forgetting how to breathe. “How was that?” Ramon chuckled, licking his lips.

My lips tingle with excitement. I wanted more, I needed more. How the fuck do I get more? “A- Amazing, I liked it, daddy.”

“Good, keep being a good boy and there's more where that came from.” Ramon winked. “Now, take my shorts off, I think you’ll like what’s underneath.” He teased me.

My skin broke out in goosebumps, I was about to see another man's cock up close and personal. My fingers dipped into his waistband, slowly tugging it down his thick legs. “Don’t be shy.” He noticed how I stopped just at the peak of where his cock was about to spring out. Fully dropping his shorts down my eyes widened at his member. He wasn’t wearing any boxers so it sprang upwards in a fast manner.

My mouth watered with need. “Can I suck it?” I asked eagerly.

Ramon was slightly surprised by me asking such a bold question, he shook his head no. “No, I think you’ll have to work your way up to that.” Ramon rolled his tongue over his lips. “But I do have an idea before you please my cock.”

“Anything.” I breathed out.

“Worship my body.” Ramon took a few steps back and sat himself down on the cushiony love sofa, his legs spread where his large cock stood up, waiting for attention. My eyes kept staring at his large masterpiece of a body. “Marco.”

“Yes?” I snapped my attention to his face which had a big smirk on it.

“My cock can wait. Come.” He bent his two fingers in the ‘come here’ motion. Slowly making my way towards him, he leaned forward and pulled me on top of him. I straddled his lap with both legs over him. “Good boy.” He hummed. My eyes looked to his lips, leaning down I pushed mine against his. “I think my neck needs some attention.” He spoke softly in between the kisses.

Shuttering a breath as I felt his large hands on my waist, I leaned down and left open mouth kisses on his neck, collar bone and coming back up to his jaw line. He hummed lowly, eyes closed. His skin tasted slightly salty along with his natural scent. “Now the shoulders.” He exhaled.

Moving my head to his right side I placed kisses against his strong shoulders. Swirling my tongue around the soft skin. Once I was done on the right side, I pulled away and made my way onto the left, doing the same thing. “Lower.” He grunted.

Taking myself lower, I latched my mouth onto his left nipple. I swirled my tongue around it, lightly biting. My body grew hot with anticipation knowing I soon will be swirling my tongue around his juicy cock. When I thought his left nipple had enough worshiping I switched to the right. As I suckled on the right nipple, my left hand cupped and caressed his large left bicep while my fingers kept pinching and tweaking it.

I felt his cock twitch aggressively between my thighs. My own cock was begging to be released from these tight uniform jeans. Pulling away, I looked down to see his cock oozing with pre-come, some of it even wiping onto my uniform, staining it. My hands were on his sweaty chest, leaning down I licked my tongue up his hairy chest. I moaned at the taste of his body sweat seeping into my tastebuds.

“Someone is such a dirty boy.” Ramon laughed lowly in amusement. “Sluttier than the whore I fucked.”

Ignoring that comment, I made my way even more south. Getting off of his lap I wedged myself in between his thick thighs, my face leaning forward as I kissed softly around his navel area. My hands rubbing up and down his legs, I felt Ramon break out in goosebumps from my touches.

His cock was so up and personal to my face, as I pulled away from his toned stomach I opened my mouth about to take the tip. Mere inches away from having his tasty dick in my mouth I heard him tsking from above. Closing my mouth, I pouted. Turning my head I started to pay attention to his muscular thighs. Kissing and rubbing the left, I turned my head and started to do the same to the right. “Almost there baby, just keep going.” Ramon moaned, his head tilting back against the sofa.

Ramon scooted himself a little more over the edge of the couch. Noticing his legs spread a bit wider, I didn’t wait for permission. I gripped his thighs and placed my face in between his legs. “Fuck.” He moaned, arching his back as I kissed his ass, flicking my tongue against his entrance made the man above me shiver in delight. “Marco, yes.” He hissed as I darted my tongue in and out. He tasted even more devine.

“S- Stop, stop or you’re going to make me come.” He grunted, pushing me away slightly with force. I didn’t want to stop, I wanted to make him come over the edge and spill his seeds all over me. “I think you deserve a reward for being so good to me.”

My heart started to beat faster, my eyes landed on his throbbing cock and back up to him. “May I please have your cock now?” I begged.

He smirked, leaning down and brought his lips to my ear. “Eat up, Marco.” Pulling away, he slouched back into the sofa lazily and relaxed, waiting for the pleasure.

“Finally.” I whispered to myself. I didn’t know where to start, should I start sucking his cock? Should I lube his ass and finger it while I suck him off? All of these thoughts were making me hotter. Exhaling a breath to calm my nerves I grabbed at his waist. Leaning down I started to pepper kisses all over his heavy balls.

“Oh.” Ramon tilted his head back, enjoying the soft touches. Slowly I extend my wet tongue against his balls, giving it little kitten licks. Ramon’s hand landed on top of my head, his fingers running through my hair. “Are you teasing me?” Ramon arched an eyebrow.

“Oh never.” I couldn’t even tell if I was being sarcastic or honest. Paying a little more attention to his sac, I pulled away. Finally I get to suck him off. Gathering spit in my mouth, I spit on his cock watching my saliva drip down his veiny dick.

“Fuck, that’s such a hot sight to see.” Ramon groaned, his pre-come mixed with my saliva. I wasted no time, wrapping my lips around his cock I started to bob my head, moaning. My left hand fondled and massaged his balls while my right hand jerked off the rest of his cock that I couldn’t get. “Yes, yes, yes.” Ramon hissed, buckling his hips. His cock drove deeper down my throat. “Fucking take daddy’s dick. Hmm, good boy.” He praised me as I dropped my right hand away and forced him deeper in my hot mouth.

“Oh you really are trying to make daddy come.” Ramon noticed how badly I bobbed my head up and down on his shaft, trying to milk the come out of him. I desperately needed to taste more of him. “You want daddy’s come? Well, I’ll give you daddy’s come.” Ramon said, gritting his teeth.

His grip on my hair grew tighter and his thrust became harder. My jaw ached as I had my mouth open so wide. I nearly begged for a break. Tears collected in the corner of my eyes as his thick dick rammed in the back of my mouth, I loved the slight sting and how raw my throat is going to be afterwards. “Keep fucking going, Marco. Oh yes, almost there, almost.”

Ramon’s hot moans and groans made my cock nearly burst out of my pants. I ignored my needs and focused them onto Ramon’s. Swirling my tongue, I suckled his cock with each thrust he did. Ramon dug his heels into the carpeted floor, his thrusts were rapid as he started to fuck my face. No warning, I felt his cock twitch in my mouth and his warm come soon hitting my tongue. I moaned, shocked from the surprise orgasm. I tried to pull away but Ramon’s grip in my hair was too tight for me to break.

“Swallow it, whore.” He growled, his eyes still dark as he was coming down from his high. He bucked his hips slowly, making his cock go in and out of my fucked mouth. Trying my best I swallowed his come, slurping it around his cock and down my throat. Exhaling from my nose, he held me in that position for a few seconds longer, making sure I swallowed all of his seeds.

Finally letting me go, I pulled off of his cock slowly. Saliva and extra come collected around my mouth. “Oh fuck, you look so hot.” Ramon growled. I was flushed, I heaved for fresh air to hit my lungs. Ramon looked at the time, it was late. “I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning.” Ramon stood up, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a few hundred bills. He helped me up and shoved the money in the back pocket of my pants, slapping my ass. “I’ll be back in a month and I’m going to make you come so fucking hard. Have you ride that tight ass on my cock.” Ramon licked his lips.

Nodding, I raised my hand to wipe the juices off with the back of my hand. Ramon gripped my wrist, pulling it down. Leaning down, he placed his hot mouth against mine. Slowly licking my lips and cleaning me up. He hummed at the taste of himself on my lips. My cock ached at the sounds. “One month, your sweet virgin ass will be mine.” Ramon whispered in my ear.

With that I left, leaving Ramon with his fresh towels, pillows, a cold pizza and the best oral we both ever had. Exiting out of the elevator onto the main floor my boss’s kid lifted his head up from the porno magazine he was still reading. “You’re still here- what the fuck is all over your unifrom and what’s that smell?” He questioned in slight disgust. He’s never seen those large stains before I left. Justin’s nose was scrunched up from the stench.

Looking down at myself, I saw stains from Ramon’s sweat and come soaking into my clothes. I looked like a fucked worn out whore and smelt like one. “Long story.” I smiled large. “Let’s just say I got some overtime in.” I smirked, walking to the back to clock myself out for the night.

#Scott Hall #Scott Hall smut #Razor Ramon #razor ramon smut #wrestling smut #wwe #wwf #wwf smut #wrestling stories #wrestling blog #wrestling fanfic #wrestling imagine #pro wrestling #wrestling fanfiction #NWO #Wrestling #wrestling commission #wrestling #commissions

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asameera · 2 years

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Oddworld: Code 583 - Chapter 2: Brand new job

“Hey! Wassup sucker? How was the trip to Nolybab?”

“Tell us about it! They say you can eat Gabbiar all day there!”

“Really? Oh, you lucky bastard!”

“Did you manage to steal some premium cigarettes?”

“Oh yeah! That's right, One-arm! You wouldn't have forget about your friendsies right?”

“Awwww man! I'm so jealous!”

“Hey! What did you do with the suit? We all contributed for you to have it! Not that we had a choice since it was an order from that stupid boss!”

“Hey that's right! You said you'd sell it so we could get the money back! We need it, that bastard just stiffed us out of bonuses!”

Overwhelmed with questions, 583 sighed inwardly. He would have rather forgotten about that damn journey to the Capital. Fortunately, he had already found an excuse for the suit to avoid blame from his colleagues. He had the whole trip back in the blimp to think about it.

“Ah, tell me about it, guys! That clown took this glittering stuff right away as soon as we left his appointment and just boasted about how it would fit in his private office! Too pretty for us, he said!”

A deafening din echoed through the audience as the hundred of Sligs assigned to the Zulag yelled insults in their distorted language.

“Oh that bastard!”

“Fuck him!”

“We want our Moolah!”

“Loser! Stupid boss!”

“I'm so angry! I'm gonna beat up the first slave I see!”

“YEAH!!!” they all roar in unison.

Relieved, 583 patted the barrel of his weapon affectionately, a simple rifle designed like so many others that fit perfectly in his mechanical hand. The touch reassured him, gave him a sense of power he didn't have to begin with. The idea of joining the masses to say hello to the Mudokons in the traditional way - a swift blow into the head with the butt of a gun - was appealing. It was always good to know that he and his race were not at the bottom of the heap, that there were creatures who feared them. Yes, very tempting.

But he had to admit that right now, he needed a cigarette more than anything.

As he walked the few meters that separated him from the locker room, he became aware once again of how lucky he was to live in the industrial age. Mechanics and robotics were a real blessing for them, even more so for him. The breathing masks that covered most of their faces protected their weak lungs from the black smokes of the factories. The red lenses covering their eye organs corrected their poor eyesight and gave them an intimidating appearance that scared the slaves.

Life, in its great injustice, had deprived them of legs, but thanks to the industrialists and their genius, they could walk and run in their iron pants. 583 even preferred to sleep with them, unlike most of his fellows, because he didn't like seeing the tiny khaki green tail that served no purpose, that only reminded him how pathetic he was in his natural state. Without this gift from the Cartel, they would all be crawling on the ground by sheer force of their arms, unable to rise higher than a slave's butt.

And for him, with only one arm left, prosthetics were even more essential. Whether it was to use a weapon, smoke, play cards or correct a Mudokon. And rather than feeling addicted, he was enjoying the new possibilities without question, just like everyone else.

He loved this era with wicked glee.

After his little walk, he opened his locker and grabbed his cigarette pack. With a sharp snap of the lighter, he lit his last poor-quality fag, leaned against the rusty iron and took a long, welcome puff. The smoke he blew with delight escaped from between his five appendages that constituted his snout.

“Hey sucker!”

Irritated, 583 turned his attention to a colleague who had just joined him.

“Yo. s'up, bro?" he still asked.

They had no way to tell each other apart, so he didn't recognize him. He was too far away to see his code. But he didn't care. It was a Slig, that was enough, no need to know more.

“Well I'm quite fine, yup! You on the other hand... well, I heard you've been demoted. Sorry 'bout that, bro !”

He didn't seem particularly sorry, on the contrary.

“Heh, no big deal” 583 groaned as he took another drag of nicotine. “To be fair I still don't know what my new job is.”

The other Slig stroked one of his snout appendages.

“Well, actually, I'm the one replacing you, bro. So, if you try to be logical, you are getting my job then, right?”

Interest rising with slight anxiety, 583 contorted himself so he could spot the Slig's number.

988.

He couldn't remember ever seeing a number that high since he started working at Gottlieb Industriz. The Sligs were divided into different sectors as soon as they arrived at the factory, so 583 was most often found with his colleagues in Zulag 5 - where Mr. Gottlieb had set up his main quarters - and thus he'd always been working around the numbers 500 to 599 (even though they weren't this many, his boss just loved making others believe he had a huge army under his orders). This meant that this colleague belonged to a different sector than his own, logically Zulag 9. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what this place was, or even where it was located. How many sectors were there again? He had always thought it was no more than eight.

“Okay. So what's the job then?”

“Security” 988 snickered as if he'd just announced the punchline of a bad joke.

“No kidding! We all are security guards, what d'ya think that means, sucker?”

“Yeah, but that's not exactly the same here, loser! You'll have to keep an eye on a member of the factory and make sure nothing bad happens. Basically, you're clearly going to be bored shitless! 'Cause if you go AWOL on your patrols, if you let anything bad happen, you're in for a one-way trip to our Queen!”

583 blanched with fear.

“What?!”

No one, no one wanted to be involved with the Queen. They knew almost nothing about her, few had any information. But terror was deeply embedded in their instincts when she was mentioned, so deep that they all barely restrained themselves from calling their forgotten mother for help in a primal need. No one knew why. Only one thing was certain: those who had been summoned by Her Highness had never returned. And their numbers had been given to newbies.

988 snickered even more.

“Yeah! You'll be bored to death, but you won't even have the chance to have fun with the others, or take a nap, or pass your nerves on the workforce! This job is the worst shit I've ever experienced! Well, if I can give you a piece of advice: try not to lose it on your first day and, above all, don't ever use violence on that little shit, ever! They'll know that.”

If there was any blood left in 583's face, it had just been sucked out with the rest.

“Wait a minute, wait wait wait... the guy I have to protect in other words... it's a slave?”

“Yep.”

“I got to protect a slave?!”

“Yep!”

With that, 988 offered him a wave of his hand, beaming with mockery.

“Well, good luck sucker! And thanks for your job!”

He went away, leaving 583 behind. Humiliated, the one-armed Slig crushed his last cigarette in his hand, seething with rage, and gave a violent kick in the door of his former locker.

“I hate my life!” he shouted at the top of his voice.

“Hey! Don't break my locker!” 988's distant voice shouted back.

“Shaddap!”

ooOoo

988 hadn't told him everything.

First, he had 'forgotten' to offer assistance in moving his many belongings to his new quarters.

Then he had 'forgotten' to tell him exactly where his new job was located. 583 thought he was going to have to walk the entire factory, loaded as an Elum, asking every Slig he passed for directions. He often got the same answer, like 'Zulag 9? There's no Zulag 9! You must be drunk bro!' Well, it was odd, but actually to be expected, because there was no Zulag 9 located on the old map he'd received on his first day here. From the capture station to the storage warehouses, not forgetting the filtration and decontamination areas, he snarled angrily at the black smoke that regularly spewed from the pipes.

583 didn't really know how the plant worked, it wasn't his job and that was fine with him. But for Odd's sake, was it even possible that treating water and converting it into a commodity was so toxic? Of course pure environmental water was scarce, planet Oddworld had long been contaminated, creatures like him were only safe in industrial complexes or cities privatized by the Magog Cartel. Of course, foul wastes (about more than 60% of the liquid) were burned when they reached the decontamination process, turning them into polluted smoke. Of course. But still! That was just crazy!

More than once, 583 had heard about some Sligs from other factories, who were jealous not to be able to work at Gottlieb Industriz. Because they all thought that the air was purer here, so maybe they would have had a chance to take off their mask if only for a moment, when the Glukkon boss wasn't watching.

Sweet terrifying and almighty Magog Cartel! They couldn't be more wrong!

By now, he was passing by one of the factory exits, guarded by Sligs specialized in dressage. Barkings pierced the thick air, making 583 shake with jealousy. If only he could borrow a Slog too... he'd be less bored in his next job. He could toss some wrench for it to fetch, the blind dog would find it in no time with his enhanced sense of smell... but no, of course! The two-legged hairless red hound would probably harm his protégé while they played... urgh! Just thinking about it made 583 want to vomit! And vomiting inside his mask was not especially recommended.

Once again, he asked the Sligs for directions and they looked at each other before bursting out laughing. Surprised, the dogs became slightly agitated and barked, immediately appeased by their masters.

“Ah ah ah! So you're the new nanny? Poor you!”

“We'd almost feel sorry for you! Sucks to be you, man!”

“I think I'd rather join the slaves 'round here and do their crappy job! Ya should do that, that'd be better for ya!”

“Yeah ! I swear we won't beat you up too hard !”

Finally he had found a clue on his way to hell. But rather than feeling relieved, he grew incredibly angrier with those comments.

“Shut the fuck up guys!” 583 growled as he wasn't in the mood for crappy jokes. “Just tell me where I have to go!”

Couldn't they see he was about to collapse under the stuff he was carrying on his back? The beer bottles, the many tools to adjust his prosthesis, the spare parts just in case, his weapons...everything was sticking out his makeshift bundle! Couldn't they see he was fucking tired? Of course they were aware! Of course they didn't care!

By chance they provided him guidance rather quickly and 583 realized that he would never have found it without their help, because he wasn't even aware this part of the factory existed. In fact, the right path started right behind a door. The kind of door 583 would never have thought to open. It almost reeked of danger: made entirely of rusted iron, it was strewn with barely visible traces of blood, which months of cleaning had not been able to completely remove. And on the wall around it, several signs had been hung, all giving sinister warnings:

Restricted area

Do NOT enter

Authorized staff only

Trespassers will be terminated

Thank you

Get back to work!

No wonder he couldn't remember this place! After such warnings, everyone would do their best to forget that this path existed!

A bit worried, 583 tried to push the heavy door when suddenly he was flooded with red light from above. He didn't dare make a move, trying to tell himself that it was just a scanner (and certainly not a lethal one). A few moments later, the red beam went out and a loud 'clang' echoed through the space. The door was unlocked. Reassured and anxious at the same time, the Slig entered the long dark corridor.

After that, he had to take so many elevators, alternatively rising and descending, that in the end he couldn't tell if he was above or below the ground. Then, he had to disable a number of voice identification systems for Sligs that only let him through if he spoke in his inimitable native language. It was difficult to see how another creature could get there. And it was impossible to imagine it getting out.

Actually, the Slig was seriously wondering what he was needed here for.

When he finally reached his destination after the last automatic gate opened before him, 583 found himself confronted with the last, small, tiny little detail 988 had 'forgotten' to mention.

As he struggled to keep all of his equipment in his piece of cloth, 583 tripped over a steeled wire rope too sneaky to be honest. He toppled violently forward and his entire gear flew across the room before crashing on the floor with a deafening din. Unable to regain his balance, the Slig ran toward a wrought iron pillar and smashed snout first right against it with a painful swear word. Clinging hard to the base of the black structure, he was barely regaining his senses when he heard that voice for the first time.

“Oh sweet Odds! Are you okay?”

Doing his best to chase the parasites clouding his vision, 583 looked up at the figure leaning over him. He must have hit his head really too hard because, for the first time of his life, it was like he was seeing other colors than shades of red. What was that? Was it what they called light? Whiteness? He had learned to identify colors without ever having seen them, only with red tones, but never before had he experienced this. It was bright, almost pure.

“Heuuuuaaaah... an angel ? Urgh! My head!”

“Oh, poor thing...”

It was only at this moment he suddenly realized something wasn't right. The voice didn't match anything he'd heard before. It was too soft, too high. The feeling of purity was catapulted far away to give way to an irrational panic. And when he finally saw the Mudokon he had to protect, so close, he felt his heart drop horribly.

A . fucking . female.

Again.

He leapt to his feet to look down on her while she was still crouching.

“Urgh!” He spat, finally showing his despise. “I thought those like you were on the verge of extinction! Oh well! Yer just the second one I see in less than 36 hours! Looks like that martyr status is quite exagerated!”

The female's eyes widened. She looked more startled than hurt.

“What do you mean?”

She stood up in turn, slowly, her eyes not leaving him. Then, as if something had yielded in her – caution, undoubtedly – she gripped his shoulders hard and pierced him with her pleading gaze.

“You saw another one? Where? Where is she? Is she okay?”

Caught by surprise, 583 wriggled out as he jumped backward, his feral instincts loudly screaming to hit her. He raised his hand before realizing, ready to strike, but stopped just in time, survival overtaking. That was close! He was so used to beat or kill Mudokons for less than that, he had to be careful. He didn't want to meet his Queen – and possibly his death – yet!

“Don't touch me!” He screamed. “Waddya care anyway? It's not like you can meet her and have a fucking tea party!”

Her big imploring eyes filled with tears. Her long feathered hair, a bright yellow one striped with purple, was reaching all the way to the floor quite pitifully. Her skin wasn't exactly the same as the other slaves', he could tell by the slightly darker red tone. She was rather blue than the common green. Everything about her made her look sad.

“Please... I need to know.”

Irritated, 583 pretended to think about it.

“Yeah well no. You're not supposed to talk to me so I won't answ- unless... you know what, that's okay, I'll tell you. But only if you ask as nicely as you should. So go on. Kneel before me, I wanna see your forehead touch the floor. So? I'm waiting!”

If he couldn't strike her physically, he would find another way to give her a blow. The female didn't even protest. She obeyed immediately, turning herself into a doormat before him. 583 let out a vicious sneer. It was very satisfying after all, if a little too easy. And a little weird. Usually, when he played this game with his friends, the slaves complied with a blank, resigned look. Not her. She was waiting for something, for an answer. Her eyes were far from empty. The hope deep inside was almost gut wrenching.

It was so strange. What was the point for her to know?

“Please” she whispered in hope and dispair.

Under his mask, 583 gave her a cunning smirk.

“Veeeeeery good!” He mocked her in a patronizing tone. “See, it wasn't that hard. Fine then. I've met her not so long ago in Nolybab, in a crappy store. My imb... humble and generous boss wanted to meet her so she could read his glorious future or something like that.”

Even now, she was still carefully honoring the floor with her forehead.

“Was... was she the owner?

“Tsk ! 'Course not! Don't be stupid, yer not allowed to work for yourselves, even down there! It's a paint can looking Glukk' who's the boss. She's just his property, obviously!”

“So she's just a fortune teller?”

“Yeah, well I don't think it... er... yeah yeah exactly. What else?”

He had to watch his mouth. In this dark room, maybe there were some cameras he hadn't spotted yet. Perhaps it was how they knew if she'd be injured or not. Why though? Well, it didn't really matter, but if they could see and hear everything, if Gottlieb was aware of everything, 583 couldn't allow himself to insult or question his master. Even if he wanted to!

In front of him, the lower being straightened herself. The hope in her eyes was gone.

“I see. Thank you.”

He didn't understand why, but she looked even sadder than before.

“Er... yeah. So you see, no tea party with her or whatever.”

She nodded silently, spacing out.

“Mmm. I was just hoping she was like me. But if you speak the truth... that means she's sterile.”

The Slig tilted his head.

“Well yep. Wait a sec, you're not ?”

A bitter smile, a slight shake of the head. Every gesture was full of melancholy.

“No. The industrialists didn't manage to wipe us all. The land they poisoned spared more than they thought, even if many of them became sterile. As their disguised methods did not work completely as they wished, they attacked us head-on, demanding total submission. Those who refused... they...”

She was barely able not to cry.

“I could only escape this tragic fate by making a pact with them. I gave myself up entirely on the condition that they would not harm my future children, that they would find a place for them in the world they would build... or destroy, that's quite the same for me.”

Then, looking down, she shook her head.

“I was just hoping I wasn't the only one.”

583 absent mindedly scratched the top of his head, fighting a desire to sleep.. He didn't understand what she was blabbering about. Why would she complain when it was just the way things worked? What was the point of fighting against the industry that ruled Mudos? It was bringing in more than it was taking away, the sacrifices were paltry compared to the progress and pleasures made possible. They weren't destroying the world, they were just bringing it to the next level. He didn't like those who questionned such a simple thing.

No wonder why the Mudokons, fervent worshippers of nature, couldn't be better than slaves. All they had to do was just stop dreaming and accept that times had changed. But they couldn't even get that.

“Heh, no need to worry! They'll sure give 'em the place they deserve. They'll have security, a roof over their heads, a proper job and meals. All they need to live a healthy life!”

He had to restrain himself from laughing when she seemed a little relieved, unaware of his irony. This female must not have known the details of the living conditions of her kind. Had she ever left this room once?

“Hey! How long have you been here anyway?”

“A while I must say.”

Before continuing, 583 spotted a pile of cushions spread out on a bed and judged that he could comfortably settle in without risking anything.

“Me too, it's been a while I've been sent in this factory” he stated, lounging between the pillows. “But I've never heard anything 'bout you.”

The female moved slowly through the place and, noticing one of the scattered mechanical parts, she crouched to study it with care.

“I suppose my presence must not be disclosed too much” she ventured while testing the weight of the metal. “The Glukkon who brought me here – sir Gottlieb, right? – assured he would give my children a better future here than if I were sent to one of the brooders in Nolybab. He also said that our agreement should not be made public or I would be in trouble. That must be the reason.”

She stopped in front of each piece, observed them with the same intensity before piling them in her arms. While watching her out of the corner of his eye, the Slig nodded for himself.

“In short, he's going to gain a hell of a lot of free workforce clandestinely.”

He had spoken very quietly to himself, so she didn't hear anything.

“But I thought at least his subordonates would be aware” she added.

583 shrugged and stretched lazily.

“Pah. As long as he's paying us, we couldn't care less about what he's up to. We just do our job and that's all.”

“So your job is all about keeping an eye on me? Just like the one who was here before you?”

The Slig snorted as he remembered 988's smug attitude.

“Guess so” he groaned.

“This is pointless. I'm not planning to run away.”

Once again, he shrugged.

“Well, looks like my boss doesn't trust you. It doesn't matter if it's useless, you're missing the point. He pays, we obey. That's all.”

The female was about to answer but he didn't let her.

“So you're a fertile one you say? Is it coming soon?”

He was surprised when he heard her feeble incredulous laugh. Even that weak, the sound was able to change the atmosphere around her ever so subtly.

“Sweet Odds, of course not ! Look at me, I still haven't entered my metamorphosis state.”

“Er... what?”

“The process can take a long time to start. And once it's triggered I might have to wait for years until I finally reach the optimal condition to give life.”

“Years?!” He choked.

583 felt like banging his head against the wall so hard! He certainly wouldn't have to stick with her for all this time, would he?

“But... how... how is it this long?”

“That depends on the individuals. On species too. For instance I know that it took two years for Skillya to prepare her body envelop. On the other hand, it took only a few months after for her to begin giving birth.

“Wh-what? Who?”

Something bad was happening right now. He felt like burning, as if a giant vice-like grip was tightening around him. His skull began to thob painfully as something fuzzy was trying to take shape. Something very far crawling, swarming like a bug, slowly comin closer and closer with each passing second.

“Skillya. She's your...”

“STOP!”

A beer bottle exploded right above the female's head. She screamed and protected herself with her own arms. The mechanical parts fell on the grey iron sheets once again. 583 had jumped on his feet and thrown the first thing he'd found at her. Rage and terror had overwhelmed him without warning. In the thick silence that followed, the crawling thing returned in the shadows of his mind and gradually faded into nothingness. The Slig didn't know what it was, and he certainly didn't want to know.

He had to calm down. He tried to think about something else. His next cigarette. A brand new equipment. A huge bonus. So huge it would make his pals die with envy.

“I'm sorry...” she whispered.

Slig Barracks. The training. Yes, that was good times. Weapon training, the shooting contests. The jokes and the bets with his old friends. The classic targets, the moving targets. The living targets. The daily yelling from the Glukkon in charge, General Dripik, his completely dumb warnings ('All violators of the regulations will be shot, then court-martialed!'). The technology, the engineering and its possibilities. His new members, the joy he felt as he discovered how good it was to trample over the ground. His legs. The myriad of tents hastily pitched between forests of pipes, lost in the polluted green mist. Pollution was nothing, he was above the pollution, he couldn't care less. His mask. The feel of the trigger under his finger. The sadistic pleasure at the simple thought of shooting something. Like he had been taught so well. The feeling of superiority, finally. Being above someone else, being the one who could decide if someone would live or die. His arm.

Every Slig was sent there to grow, to become standart-compliant. Before that... he didn't remember what happened before that. Maybe it wasn't worth remembering.

A small rumble disturbed his concentration. 583 blinked and turned his red visor toward the female who had cowered in a corner, making herself as small as possible as if she wanted to melt into the wall. Her face was filled with anguish and her hands were trying to hide her flat belly.

The Slig sighed heavily.

“Stop this, I won't do anything to your tadpole stragglers.”

“It... it's not... it's nothing, really.”

She was trying to smile although she was on the verge of tears. A moment later, another rumbling sound was heard and she patted her stomach hastily, uttering an almost inaudible “hush”.

“Ah I see, yer just hungry. Eat then!”

“I... I'll be fine...”

Exasperated, 583 pulled on his legs and stomped toward her in a calculated shift. The sharp agressive move made her wince and whimper.

“Okay, what's your fucking problem then? Spit it out and stop fucking bothering me!”

“But I... there's no food here and... and I can't go out... I thought you... well, I thought you knew... y-you're the one who have to...”

The Slig slapped his forehead with his remaining palm. The word “nanny” just made terrible sense now.

“Oddammit...”

They were right. It would have been better if he'd just accepted to do the same crappy job the slaves did. At least he wouldn't have fallen so low as to be a slave's lackey, providing for her basic needs. It wasn't different from being at her service!

What a pain! Could this be even more humiliating?

“I hate my life!” he groaned between his teeth as he made his way to the exit. “Fine, I'll bring you back a nice big full menu, Your Shitty Highness! Fuck a duck!”

He stormed out in rage, ignoring the pathetic cries from the future Queen behind him.

ooOoo

Thank you for reading chapter 2 ! I’m still rather new here so I don’t really know how this works, but seeing people and amazing artists taking interest in what I put here is making my heart bounce with joy! ^w^

I really hope you enjoy this story!

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/asameera/691287639162290176?source=share

Next: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/asameera/691944621792706560?source=share

#oddworld #code 583 #fanfiction #slig #chapter 2 #Sligs sure love to swear!#female character #oc

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thesecretattic · 2 years

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Fashion Diaries

This article is mainly aimed at us…girls 💅🏻🧖🏼‍♀️

Huge Coincidence below in the latter half: I’m trying to live in the moment because like I said I have no future, I hope I fit into all this, instead of XXS I got S this time… there was a big fat sale going on and although I wanted to save more money this time, it’s not like I haven’t saved but like I said I wanted to save more… I was not able to resist a few things. What most brands don’t understand, is that we need to buy a lot of matching stuff especially if the 90s & early 2000s are back in trend so they can’t keep such high prices for shoes and bags or even apparels. Luckily there was a sale going on… and I didn’t buy all this (first collage) from Zara. Except for the Sea Green cardigan which I’d taken long ago in “20 back then they had a proper TRF range, now they are mostly into elaborate costume wear :/ (after making “costume jewellery” and statement pieces for years) I took 3 breaks while writing all this because I can’t exhaust myself, so I’m gonna make it quick now…

The purse was supposed to have a “technical fabric” but they haven’t used any cheap nylon, so the quality is great, it is polyester but the thickness and all is good, I’m not satisfied with the shape but it’s not that noticeable and luckily I got it for 1790/- instead of 2990/- I love baguette purses and this cream one is like a great new addition to my wardrobe. The denims are too huge, another girl had also written about some other pair that they are were too slouchy, it’s nothing like the images, the model is skinnier than me but the jeans are still slim compared to what they are selling, they have no shape, they look more like a pair of straight wide leg jeans, the size is humongous, when I sit, it blows up, when you’ll order them you’ll come to know, I’m planning to wear them with a black belt in order to give them some “shape” and I’ve kept them since I got them on discount and they are on the lighter side, I wanted a bleach wash since long and I love floral patterns, I already have a ditsy floral wallpaper throughout my room and I have many items which have such tiny flowers. I loved the floral embroidery so I thought I’ll make it work. And even though it looks more like a cute pair of summer capri -in the images and baggy/straight jeans in real life, you too can team it up with a black belt to draw attention from the straight cut and give it a narrower look. The top is the opposite, it’s from the same brand but I’d ordered S instead of XXS or XS (they don’t import XXS in India for some reason so they start from XS and XXS is actually for teens) I got S because of my weight gain issue and it’s not as tight fitting as the model but it’s like a cropped top which means you can’t tuck it inside the jeans like her, it’s quite short and the straps are also very small, almost the size of a kid, so if you are on the taller side then it can look very amateurish. I had taken a top from Zara which I had to return because I had ordered XS out of habit and it was too tight and uncomfortable, I have always had a broader frame because I have big bones, and it was a cropped peplum top which was directly hitting my rib cage, secondly there was no elastic, no ruching at the back, no zip closure so it was obviously very tight and the knit part was not that stretchable, the cotton frill which formed their peplum was not attached using an elastic band. The model who was wearing it had long hands and legs so they were looking very dainty but her body was quite broad and she was either like me or a bit more from the sides so I’m pretty sure she was wearing M or L. I would have blamed stress, crying and cortisol and I’m trying my best to control everything and minimise it’s repercussions but here, the make & everything was also a quite erroneous, they need to make sizes for adults, most of these fast fashion brands are only aiming at teenagers. The cami set (top and shorts) is from a different brand, I don’t want to compare but even though it can be worn tight, they’ve made it very comfortable and it has a relaxed fit keeping a fully grown “adult” in mind they have made it more accommodative than those two tops, I was expecting it to be all scrunched up like most other spandex/shapewear but it was perfect, the length is also proper because it obviously looks shorter when you wear it.

I love embroidered flowers & such tiny motifs which are again a reminiscent of the 90s, I have alhamdullilah around 5 items which have that around the neck 😇 unlike the tiny yellow rose on the green top, the other brand, has given matching, same coloured roses to the camisole… because it comes under the category of essential “basics” it’s a beautiful blend of seamless shape wear and lingerie, the sizing was done right in this cute pointillé set (perfect for adults, they haven’t relied on the stretchable fabric because it’s supposed to be more of comfort wear than shapewear) it’s super soft and cosy & it’s great if you are just out of the shower and you want to replenish your skin, lather up some moisturiser and do a quick mani pedi, as girls we have a lot of fancy things to do and we like doing everything in style. It comes in two colours, Pigeon Blue & Biscuit. Which one would you pick? I’d say both…

I just found my old stuff… and older moodboards too, I don’t have each & everything but I had taken that B locket (“20-21) because Z was not available and I liked how chunky B was, it stood for Birthday, Brave, Beautiful, Barbie, Blair Waldorf, Best… My grandmother had given me 1000/- bucks so I had taken that mini scarf set, it had two patterns, gingham and floral, and I needed a bag for all my sporty outfits because I only have handbags and baguette bags lol so I got that perfect little Espresso brown shoulder bag, it’s neither too big like a bagpack (to give that “school girl” look) nor too tiny, it’s perfect! Btw you know I had a wonderful stroke of luck with that blue night suit… it was God who gave it to me for free, as in the dress, I got the dress which was more expensive for free and a 10% off on the nightsuit but it’s my lucky nightsuit now cuz it reminds me I’m the Blue Eyed girl, I just noticed when I fetched those screenshots that it was 2:15, the timing had 15 which I’ve been seeing constantly, it once said God is around when I asked what it meant… I have more such serendipitous coincidences in this link, there are plenty Thanks! https://www.cashmerecult.com/post/thankks It was not a Buy 1 get 1 offer but Buy 2 get 1, so the first screenshot says buy 2 and get the third item for free (see I’ve put a pointer/arrow there in my article) the second one also says get the lowest priced item for free.

Love, 𝒞𝒵.

(Zara Sauleh)

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beetlejuicyy · 1 month

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Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader

2. Wash Away

Summary: modern!Sukuna hasn't come to terms with the fact that you might not belong to him anymore (featuring a harmless Nanami cameo)

Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating

Word count: 2,789

Series masterlist:

1. Ultimatum

2. Wash Away

3. Only memories

4. Vengeance

Read on AO3

Notes: here's part two!! thank you for the love you showed for the first part, it means a lot. hope you enjoy

General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry

You checked your phone for the tenth time in the span of a minute. It had become unbearable to witness yourself desperately checking to see if Sukuna wrote you. Sure, you had ignored all his attempts to get in touch in the past few weeks. It didn't mean that you didn't enjoy knowing that he took his time to pester you with messages or take a break while driving between blackmailing some CEO for money and checking the status of the new cargo to call you five times in a row. Sukuna was persistent, if anything, and, as annoying as he was in his conviction that you still belonged to him, you found it incredibly satisfying to see him chasing after you.

However, since yesterday, the messages stopped pouring, your phone has gone silent, and your thoughts had turned your head into a mess. Did he give up on you already? Isn't that what you wished for, though?

"Thank you again for agreeing to meet." You said as the tall blond man came back to the table with your coffee. You argued that it was you who took him out so you would pay. Nonsense, he quickly dismissed you and remembered your usual order like it was yesterday.

"No need to thank me." He respectfully said, sitting down in front of you.

It was pouring outside, a quick summer storm that cooled off the heat of the previous days. It had started raining just after you met at the small café in your neighborhood.

You've known Nanami Kento since college. You graduated one year apart but you were part of the same friend group that ultimately didn't survive after graduation. However, you ended up working at the same company, until he resigned more than a year ago.

"How have you been?" He asked, taking a sip of his black, unsweetened coffee. Polite, as always, showing enough interest in your life while generally minding his own business, Nanami was the only coworker you ever really got along with.

"Fine, fine." Both of your hands were wrapped around the cold glass full of iced coffee. "Work is shit, like always." He nodded slightly, showing you that you had his full attention. "Actually this is why I wanted to talk to you."

Adjusting to life without Sukuna was hard. You've grown so used to his presence in your life that you stopped noticing how much of a difference he made. He would be in front of your house, one hour after you turned off your work laptop, to pick you up and go for dinner. On days when you worked from the office you would meet for lunch, occasionally, or he would drop by with takeout. On weekends you would go on longer rides by car or sometimes you would hop on the back of his motorbike and go to the seaside. He was filling most of your time and, after that dreadful night, you suddenly realized you had no idea how to exist on your own.

So you buried yourself in work.

Sukuna always hated it when you worked overtime. But now that no one was texting you to be ready, entertain you with riddles about the dress code and your new destination, you found it easier to spend half an hour more fixing some issues at work. Soon it turned into full hours. In two weeks, you ended up realizing that you hated your workplace. You hardly got along with any coworker, the tasks were piling by the hour, the pay started to seem too little for the effort you were putting in. In reality, nothing had changed. Only your perception, since you had no way to blow off steam anymore. Things were easier to tolerate when you knew that you would see your boyfriend.

"I want to quit. I can't stand it anymore." Your fingers were cold and wet because of the glass. "I know you work at the institute now. If there's any vacant position sometime, could you let me know?"

You felt bad for turning to Nanami, honestly to anyone, asking for things. However, you felt the desperate need for a change in your life. Or maybe you tried to cope with the lack of Sukuna's presence in your life by changing it completely.

"I mean, we have similar background, we graduated the same program."

You felt anxious asking for a favor, especially since you haven't seen him since he resigned and only kept in touch through few messages. So you started talking too much, justifying yourself, trying to get rid of the little voice inside your head that was saying you're a burden.

"I don't even want a recommendation or something, the thing is that I know these posts aren't usually public and someone with connections ends up getting it before the normal person can apply.” The more you tried to explain yourself, the guiltier you felt. Nanami, on the other hand, patiently waited for you to finish, not interrupting or dismissing your worries.

"Of course I'll help, y/n." He said as he leaned back in his chair.

"Thank you. And sorry."

"No need. We're friends." You smiled gratefully. You could always count on Nanami.

You continued to catch up with him while munching on some pastries. You almost forgot to check your phone as often. It felt nice to talk to one of your old friends, especially since you had locked yourself inside your room for the past two weeks. At some point, over the muffled voices of people and the generic song playing in the café you heard the sound of a motorbike engine hurring on the street. You mentally cursed at your heart for beating faster, immediately associating the sound with the image of your ex-boyfriend.

"Yeah, so apparently they have been hooking up the whole time and everyone found out during the team building. It's only rumors I've heard since I didn't go." You were telling Nanami the latest gossip about some coworkers when you noticed he wasn't paying attention to your story. His eyes were focused somewhere behind you. He muttered a quick excuse for ignoring you and you turned your head to see what he was looking at.

Goddamn it.

Sukuna was piercing you with his gaze as he walked in the small café, having girls follow his tall figure with their eyes as he passed by them with determined steps. His pink hair was a mess because of the helmet he just took off and he ran a hand through his longer strands to put them back in place. You rolled your eyes when you met his gaze, clearly annoyed by what was about to happen. Somehow, coming to a small neighborhood café just to make a scene while looking unbearably attractive was easier than saying ‘I'm sorry’.

Sukuna hated when you rolled your eyes at him. Coincidentally, he found it very arousing. Being a brat was one of your specialties but it seemed that now you were testing his limits a little too much. You turned back to Nanami in an attempt to reassure him you could handle this on your own but Sukuna was already by your table before you could finish your sentence.

"You've proved your point. Let's go home." He said, looking down at you. He had his hands in his leather jacket's pockets, exuding a very laid back attitude, reinforced by the calmness of his voice. He was talking to you as if you were a toddler.

The fluttering feeling in your stomach at the sight of his handsome face, which you hadn't seen in over two weeks, was crushed by the curious and longing eyes of every girl in that damned café scanning your ex from head to toe. The mix of anger and disgust you first felt when you first saw that dreadful video had come back to every fiber of your body and you clenched your fist so tight that your nails were digging stinging holes in your palm.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Your voice almost screeched while trying to contain your vexation.

"Y/n, I'm not playing this game anymore." He said as his large hand found the nape of your bared neck, your hair up in a high ponytail. The touch of his fingers on your skin sent bolts of excitement in your whole body, straight between your legs, and you had to rub your thighs together on the chair to brush the feeling away. Nanami sat up, ready to say something in your defense, but you had already slapped Sukuna's hand away and sat up yourself. He looked down at your smaller body with an irritated expression, the tattoos on his face making him seem even more dangerous than he actually was.

"Sorry, Kento-kun. I'll be back in five." You excused yourself with a smile before making your way out, your shoulder brushing harshly against Sukuna's chest on your way. He followed you out, and you knew all those girls' eyes were on his every move. The thought drove you insane.

"Kento-kun, huh?" Sukuna mocked you when you finally stopped under the roof in the empty inner garden of the café. Usually it was full of customers but now the rain was washing over the empty white metal tables and chairs with soothing tapping sounds. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pockets but you quickly whined in annoyance.

"Don't. I hate the smell.”

Both his eyebrows raised in a perfect mix of surprise and irritation, almost like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. You never bothered to mention this aspect whenever your eyes would follow him longingly from the bed as he would light up a cigarette after fucking you rough, one finger playing with your lower lip. He chose to dismiss the thought as his head lowered so his eyes could look directly into yours, one hand placed at the side of your head against the wall. The smell of rain combined with his familiar and comforting perfume had your knees weaken while you tried to challenge his inquiring eyes.

“It took you two weeks to find a new personality?” His look was intimidating. You weakly tried to push him away pressing your hands against his chest but he didn’t even flinch. He sneered at your false effort, enjoying the warm feeling of your hands still lingering over the fabric of his white t-shirt.

“Why are you here, S’kuna?” You asked. Every time you imagined seeing him again you hoped to express your anger coherently, determined to let every single speck of negative emotion out of your system. You wanted to yell at him, hit him, make him understand the ruckus raising inside your heart because of him. But now all you could do was look at him with pleading eyes, almost begging him to tell you what you wanted to hear, what would finally allow you to forget everything and let yourself fall in his arms again.

“I came to stop you from embarrassing yourself.” You rolled your eyes again, pushing him with more force this time. He was still unmoved. You crossed your arms under your chest, unintentionally pushing at your breasts. He could notice the slight movement at the edge of his field of view, without taking his eyes off yours. He loved that baby blue fitted t-shirt of yours, with lace around the generous cleavage. And you wore it to see Kento-kun. The way you said that man’s name echoed in Sukuna’s brain and the thought altogether made him lose his mind.

“No, you are embarrassing me.” You spat back. You couldn’t believe you really expected him to give you what you what you wanted so easily.

“Half the city knows you’re my woman.” His other hand grabbed you by the arm, as if trying to shake you out of your stubbornness. Or keep you there, so you wouldn’t leave his side, no matter if you wanted to.

“We broke up, do you need a public statement for that?” It was painful even to you to say those words. You never thought you had officially broken up, not as long as you still hoped Sukuna would get over himself and admit that he was wrong, that he would never do that again. Because he loved you. But you let those venomous words out of your mouth in an attempt to see him feel only a fraction of the hurt you were containing in your heart.

Sukuna didn’t answer. He didn’t have any smart reply for that. He looked at you in silence, the only sound echoing between the two of you being the tapping of raindrops on the ground. He really did think you were simply acting like a brat, dismissing his efforts to talk only to have him chase you. Sukuna knew you loved that and, from time to time, you would push him away so you could see him make an effort to get to you. He never understood your reasons, but he entertained your caprices, enjoying the occasional taunting resembling a mouse and a cat constantly on the hunt. This time, it didn’t seem like a game anymore.

You wanted to kiss him so badly. You wouldn’t allow yourself, though, but your eyes would move from his eyes to his lips, his plump soft lips that you desperately wanted to bite on. You had left him speechless, with a helpless look on his face that only made you pity him. Pressing your lips together, you forced yourself to leave, since your knees were weaker by the minute and your arms were aching to be around his neck.

As you turned away, his hand gently fell down your arm, the tips of his fingers brushing over your bare skin, and he grabbed you by the wrist, keeping you in place.

“Give me another chance.” Sukuna almost begged. It was a pathetic sight, the tall muscular man, dressed in all black, with tattoos on his face, his whole presence imposing and intimidating, begging a woman like you to take him back. It almost made you give up. Almost.

“Give me one good reason.” You said, surprised by the composure of your voice in contrast to the hurricane of feelings in your heart.

“I miss you.” His eyebrows were raised in a pitiful plea.

“You’ll get used to it.” It wasn’t enough. You tried to break free from his grip but he held on your wrist as if it was the only thing allowing him to breathe.

“Don’t you miss me, y/n?” There it was. When his deep voice and mesmerizing eyes were failing to reach you he would retort to emotional blackmail. Of course you missed him, you cursed at yourself when you hesitated to answer, when the loud voice in your head was screaming to you that yes, you missed him, you missed him so much and your entire life felt pointless, that you hardly enjoyed anything since you last saw him, that you missed his comforting words and his safe arms and his handsome face.

“Someone is waiting for me.” You said as he let go of your wrist.

Sukuna watched as you turned your back to him, your long ponytail wiggling in the air with every step you took further away from him. He hated to see you go. Leaning against the wall, he lit up that cigarette only after you were out of his sight. It was such a peaceful rainy day when everything seemed to have slowed down, drenched in the humid air. His eyes were fixed on one small table for two in the corner of the garden, protected from the rain by a tall tree. It was your favorite spot, in your favorite café where he would find you reading sometimes, while sipping on iced tea. You always laughed at him whenever he would pick you up from there. His dark unapproachable figure made such a big contrast with the softness of the garden full of flowers. Sukuna always thought you fit so well there, like a goddess of the spring with your flowy skirts and your pretty round face.

He sighed, a thin cloud of smoke forming in the air as it blew out of his mouth. You were so different, almost opposites. This is why you worked so well together, you completed each other. He let his head fall back, resting against the wall, as he looked at the sky that was already starting to clear up. He wasn’t going to erase that tattoo off his skin just as he wasn’t going to allow you to erase him out of your life.

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True Form! Sukuna x Reader

tags: @siriuslyblackonback @rosaryia @st4r-s4r4 @depressiondiaries @sterzin @rowrowrowyourboat13

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #sukuna jjk #jujustu kaisen #sukuna imagine #sukuna angst #jjk

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