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mokuhchi-manuscripts · 2 years

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Color Me Loved

Fandom: A3! Act! Addict! Actors! Premise: Snippets of you and Kazunari growing up together, told through times of dyeing his hair. Word Count: 3808 CW(s): none

Find this on my AO3 as Well!

I. An Initial Change

We were fifteen. The overwhelming scent of hair dye and bleach filled the small bathroom as I tried not to breathe too deeply. I watched as Kazunari leaned over the tub and carefully washed his hair, the excess blonde dye making its way down the drain and with it taking the Kazunari I had known for the past ten years. His glasses were on the counter next to where I was sitting, my hands fidgeting in my lap as I waited for him to finish.

“Why are we doing this again?” I asked. I could barely hear his sigh over the running water, or maybe I didn’t hear it at all, but the look he shot at me from his place knelt beside the tub was the one he always used when exasperated, so I knew nonetheless.

“To be different, I guess,” he mumbled, turning off the faucet and drying his hair with an old towel.

“Why do you want to be different from everyone else?” I passed him his glasses. He nodded in acknowledgement.

“Not different from everyone else, just…different from me.” He answered as he put on his glasses.

“I hope you know I think you’re fine just the way you are.”

Kazunari gave a soft smile in response. “Thank you, but I think you’re the only one who sees me that way.”

II. Sentimentality

We were seventeen. It was our last year of highschool, that day nothing more than a mundane Saturday. The air was warm, the window open to lessen the smell of hair dye encapsulating the bathroom. We had learned that ventilation was key the hard way the first time he dyed his hair. He sat on the edge of the tub as I used a brush to place blonde dye on his bleached roots, focusing intently as not to make a mistake.

“I’m so stressed about the test on Monday.” Kazunari whined, filling the silence.

“Stop moving or I’ll mess up.” I quipped back. “What’s there to mess up? And you’ve done this so many times it should be second nature by now.” I didn’t reply, choosing to focus on the task at hand, when I heard a soft click. I looked up immediately. Kazunari was holding his phone in front of us, a wide smile on his face as he held up a peace sign with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone.

“What are you doing?” I said, looking back down.

“Taking a picture, duh!”

“For Instablam?”

“I never use the hair dyeing pics for Instablam, I keep them. For posterity, or something.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous sentimentality. “Don’t they just take up room on your phone?” I joked.

Kazunari turned to me, a somewhat serious expression on his face. “Any pictures with you aren’t just ‘taking up room on my phone’, they’re important to me. You’re important to me.” I audibly swallowed, my face heating up at the words. “Awww, babe, you’re blushing!” He quickly switched back to his regular personality.

“You wish,” I grumbled, knowing full well the red hue at my cheeks was completely visible. I motioned for him to turn back around and he did. I quickly finished up, helped rinse his hair, and handed him his glasses from the sink counter.

“You did an amazing job, as always.” He said as he looked at his hair in the mirror.

“No thanks to your fidgeting.” I poked him in the side. He feigned offense, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculously exaggerated expression.

“Didn’t you want to watch a movie too when we were done or something?”

“I’m staying over, we’ve got all night.”

“Not if I get to the TV first!” He shouted, bolting out of the bathroom.

“No you don’t!” I yelled back as I chased after him.

III. Childhood Memories

We were eighteen, just out of highschool and heading into the next chapter of our lives: college. It was the summer between worlds, and we didn’t know quite where we would fit. We were two puzzle pieces that connected together, but we weren’t yet sure where we belonged in the picture.

“You should dye your hair too, it’s fun. It’ll be something new for college.” Kazunari said as he brushed bleach into his roots.

“Hm. Maybe next time.”

“You should dye it some crazy color. Oh! Maybe something like that half-and-half trend? Where you dye half your hair one color and the other half the other! Or maybe you can do that thing where you keep your natural color on top but like halfway down your hair it's another color so it’s half and half but like…the other way?”

I laughed. “What are you even talking about?”

“You dyeing your hair, obviously.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Maybe another time, Kazunari.” I shook my head as I spoke.

“I like your hair as is anyways.” I couldn’t help but blush, my face betraying me as it gained a red hue. I prayed that Kazunari wouldn’t look at me, not wanting to deal with any teasing remarks.

“Then why are you trying to convince me to dye it?” I tried to sound lighthearted, but the shake in my voice made me sound almost angry, which was the farthest from what I felt.

He looked at me through the mirror, and I looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “Just thought it’d be fun to not be the only one playing with hair dye today. It’s fun, you know.” He paused, then laughed. “After you get over the initial fear of frying off all your hair, that is.”

“I like my hair on my head, thank you very much.” I stuck my tongue out at him, causing him to roll his eyes and mimic the action. “Real mature, Kazu. Sticking your tongue out.” I crossed my arms, feigning anger or exasperation.

“You started it.” He shot me a look and I couldn’t help but laugh. I always loved joking around with Kazunari, ever since we were kids. There was something irrevocably fun in laughing with him, making jokes, and just being. We had grown up together, him living just down the street, and us attending the same grade, middle, and high schools. We’d both changed since then, the one constant in our lives being each other.

“Remember when we first met?” I asked. He looked at me with his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“Yeah, why?” He put down the brush in his hand and sat on the side of the bathtub.

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about it.” I paused. “Your glasses have barely changed.” He leaned back slightly, rolling his eyes and pushing his glasses up by the bridge.

“The prescriptions got worse, actually.”

“Didn’t know the lenses could get any thicker.” I got up from my place on the sink counter and sat next to him, playfully nudging him with my shoulder.

“You’re one of the only people who still sees me with my glasses.” Kazunari looked at his hands folded in his lap as he spoke.

“Why?” I asked.

“They don’t fit the ‘image’ I’m going for. And I trust you.”

“Thank you for still trusting me.” I placed my head on his shoulder.

“Of course.” He said as he leaned his head against mine. My heart pounded in my chest at the proximity, but I still didn’t pull away.

“Are you excited for college? And I know I’ve said it already but I’m really happy you got into your first choice.”

“Me too.” He smiled. “And yeah, I am. A little scared too, though.”

“Why?” I picked my head up and looked at him.

“Because this is the first time you won’t be there with me.”

“Not true. I was sick sometimes and didn’t go to school.” I joked.

He let out a small laugh, but I could tell it was forced. “Yeah, but I don’t know if I’m ready to be away from you.”

“You won’t be.” I said. “Remember the first time I was absent in like first grade? It was my first time not going to school.”

“Yeah, I freaked when I saw you weren’t there.”

“You stopped by my house later that day to give me a “get well soon” card you had made. I still have it. And the next day you made me promise to never be absent again.”

He looked at me, shock evident on his face. “You still have it?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s put away, so it doesn’t get damaged. But I still look at it sometimes. It always makes me smile.”

“I still have the comic we drew as kids.”

“You mean, the one you drew with minimal input from me?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s more accurate.”

“Well, what I’m trying to say is, we’ll be apart from each other sometimes, and that’s okay. I’m so used to being with you all the time that it’s difficult to not be going to college with you too, but it’s okay. We’ll be okay.” I reached out my hand, and he placed his in mine. I squeezed it, and impulsively brought it up to my lips and kissed the back of his hand. His face grew red after my action, and a part of me was thankful I wasn’t the only one blushing.

I spoke again. “You’re going to do amazing things, Kazunari.”

IV. Missing Him

We were still eighteen, but we had a better grip on where we belonged. But our futures still felt like sand, time slipping between our fingertips as we hurried to figure out just where we were meant to be.

“So how’s college without me?” I asked lightheartedly as Kazunari covered his hair roots in blonde dye.

“Actually, college is good. Great, even. It’s fun being around other people who like the same things as me but it’s still stressful.” He paused, before continuing more softly. “I miss you a lot.”

“I’d be hurt if you didn’t miss me.” I laughed. He glanced over at me with a small smile, and my heart couldn’t help but flutter at the sight. I willed it to calm down, not wanting to start blushing at a simple grin.

“We haven’t talked as much as we used to. I miss texting you.”

“I miss texting you too. It's not my fault you’re always busy though.” I reached up to ruffle his hair, quickly pulling my hand back after I remembered what we were doing.

“I’ve missed dying my hair with you. When I’m really busy I hate not being able to invite you over.” His words stung. We dyed his hair for the first time together, working out how to use bleach with video tutorials and poorly written box instructions. And every time after that, I was there helping. And eventually, just watching; sitting on the side lines as Kazunari went through the motions he’d practically memorized. It became a staple of our relationship, dying his hair together, and for some reason knowing he did it without me hurt more than I expected it to.

“I’ve missed sitting in your bathroom and choking on dye fumes too.” I poked him in the side, teasing him.

“You don’t have to be here, you know.” He said with a smile.

“But I want to be here. I like being with you.”

“I like being with you too.”

“Maybe one day you can show me around your college.”

“I can show you the artwork I’ve been working on too! I’ve been working on this one painting recently, I think you’re going to love it!”

“You know I love all your artwork, Kazunari.” I could see a slight blush make its way across his face, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “Aww, you’re blushing!” I pointed out, poking him on the cheek. He swatted my hand away.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. I can see it, you’re blushing.” He sighed, sounding exasperated, but the grin he was trying to conceal proved the opposite. “Aww, now you’re smiling too!” I pinched his cheek, pulling on it slightly in a teasing manner.

“Cut it out!” he laughed. “You’re gonna make me mess up my hair dye!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave you alone.” I paused. “For now!” He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, shaking his head at my words.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Dye your hair in peace.” I pointed out.

“Yeah but it’s not as fun.”

“Glad to know my sole purpose in your life is entertainment.”

“Maybe the entertainment was the friends we made along the way.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his poorly worded reference.

“That barely made sense.”

“It made enough sense is all that matters.”

“I missed this.” I smiled at him, impulsively reaching out and placing my hand on his cheek. I almost immediately pulled away, flustering myself, but he placed his hand over mine and placed a small kiss on my palm. I could feel my face heating up as he looked at me through his eyelashes.

“I missed this too.” I noticed his face quickly turning red as well, and let out a sigh of relief to know it wasn’t just me. I gingerly pulled my hand back, not completely wanting too but not wanting to insinuate anything in case the feeling wasn’t mutual.

“Go back to dying your hair.” I said, almost demandingly, willing myself to calm down. And he did, turning back to the mirror with a smile.

V. A Confession

He was still eighteen, and it was the end of spring, the sunshine fresh on our skin as flowers bloomed outside. I perched myself on the counter, just as I had done countless times before, as we waited for Kazunari’s hair dye to process.

“I have something I need to tell you.” Kazunari said quickly, sucking in a breath and holding it when he was finished. A part of me couldn’t help but hope it was a confession of mutual feelings.

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything.” I leaned forward.

“So you know that theater troupe I did that art for?”

“Yeah, of course.” I tried not to visibly deflate as my heart sank. I wasn’t sure what he was about to tell me, but it wasn’t what I had hoped.

“I ended up auditioning for the summer troupe and got in?” The end of his sentence sounded more like a question, as if he was questioning his decision- or questioning telling me.

“You sound scared to tell me.”

“I mean, I kind of was?”

Somehow, knowing he felt fear when wanting to tell me something important happening in his life hurt more than hoping he’d confess to me. “Why?”

He sighed and reached up to run his hand through his hair before pausing and ringing his hands in his lap. “I don’t know, in all honesty. I just didn’t know how you’d react, I guess.”

“You know I’d support you in everything you’d do.” I tried not to sound mad, not wanting to worsen a situation that had already soured for me.

“You sound mad, why are you mad?” He sounded defensive as he straightened up.

“I’m not mad, Kazunari. Not in the slightest, that I can assure you. It just hurts knowing you were scared to tell me something new and important that’s going on in your life when we grew up telling eachother everything. Are we…not that close anymore?”

He quickly stood up and walked the short couple steps of distance to me. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just me being an anxious mess. I just didn’t know if you’d think it was a dumb idea or not.” He pulled me into a tight hug, and I never wanted him to step away.

“Don’t worry, I think all your ideas are dumb.” He laughed, and a smile bloomed across my face at the sound.

“That’s not…the part I was most worried about telling you, though.” He pulled away.

“What is it, Kazu?” I looked at him, searching his face for the answer. He looked away, as if he couldn’t even hold eye contact with me.

“I’m going to be moving into their dorm too. So I won’t be living at home anymore.”

“Oh.” I tried to keep myself composed, but from the way his face fell, I knew I didn’t do an amazing job.

“I’m sorry. But I really want to do this.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m just…so used to living next door to you. It’s just going to be different.”

“It’s going to be weird looking out the window and not seeing your house anymore.” I couldn’t help but laugh. If those words had come from anyone else besides Kazunari, they would’ve sounded creepy. But it was Kazunari, and I could practically hear the sentimentality dripping from his voice.

“Well you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.” I batted my eyelashes at him.

He let out a small chuckle, and mumbled, “I don’t know if I can grow any fonder.” I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear it, but I did.

“I guess we’ll have to see.” I smiled as soon as I noticed the blush creeping back onto his face.

“You’ll have to come see the dorm after I move in!” Kazunari quickly changed the subject.

“You know I will.”

VI. A Confession, the Second Part

He had just turned nineteen. The sun was hot, hotter then it had been the day before. I knocked on the door in front of me, hoping the first person to open it would be Kazunari. I’d barely spoken to him since he moved into the dorm, but he’d told me all about his fellow mankai members and roommate. I wasn’t sure if I felt completely ready to be invited into their craziness just yet.

“Hello?” A boy with pink hair answered the door.

“Hello! I’m here to see Kazunari.”

“Oh, you must be his friend! He’s told me about you.”

“And you must be Muku, his roommate! I’ve heard about you as well.” Muku nodded before leaving, shouting unintelligible words that I could only assume was him calling for Kazunari. I watched as Muku turned the corner and went down a hall, and in his place returned Kazunari.

“Did you bring the hair dye?” I laughed at that being the first thing he said to me, and simply nodded yes while lifting the bag in my hands.

“Great! Thanks!” He snatched the plastic bag out of my hands, beckoning me to follow him. He led me into the bathroom, holding the door open for me.

“Wow, I don’t even get a proper tour?” I nudged his side as I walked past him.

He laughed. “After I finish dyeing my hair,” he paused. “Maybe.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment. I sat on the sink counter, just as I had done at his home countless times before. “Already making yourself at home, I see?”

“Tu casa es mi casa.” I responded. He shook his head with a smile as he began to section his hair and apply bleach.

“Well first off, this isn’t my house.”

“Same difference. You live here so it’s the same thing to me.” Kazunari rolled his eyes. “So how are you enjoying your time here?” I asked.

“It’s busy. We have practice, like, every day. And with classes it’s a lot. Which is why I haven’t been able to text you as much as I want to. Or as much as I used to.”

“Don’t sweat it. I know you’re busy so no need to worry about it.” I offered him a smile. I sat in silence as he concentrated on his hair. Normally we’d talk through the entirety of his hair dyeing process, but today he was oddly quiet. Yet despite his focus, he looked like he was elsewhere— like he was deep in thought.

“Something on your mind, Kazunari?” I finally asked when he sat down to wait for the bleach to process. He shrugged, and I dropped it. Oddly enough, the silence felt awkward, like unsaid words were hanging in the air and they would turn tangible if I just reached for them. I silently watched as he rinsed the bleach out of his hair, added the blonde dye, and inevitably rinsed that too.

“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. You’re never this quiet.” I finally spoke up as he towel dried his hair.

“Oh, sorry. I have been pretty quiet, huh?” he chuckled to himself, but it wasn’t light or airy. His laugh felt heavy, like something was weighing it down.

“Yeah, it’s weird, you being quiet.” I gently pushed his shoulder. He let out that same, heavy laugh.

“Do you like anyone?” He changed the subject, and I almost fell off my place on the counter.

“What? Why?” I asked.

“Nevermind.” He shrunk in on himself.

I sighed, debating whether or not I should answer the question. I weighed my options, tilting my head side to side as I did so. Finally I said, “Yeah, I do.” Kazunari’s face looked conflicted at my response, like he couldn’t tell whether to be excited or disappointed.

“...What are they like?” He eventually asked after a few moments of silence.

“Well, they’re really sweet, and we’ve been friends for a bit, you could say. They’re an artist, really talented if I do say so myself. Funny too, but positively obsessed with social media, especially Instablam.” As I continued to speak, Kazunari’s eyes widened, presumably because he could figure out who I was talking about.

He let out a laugh, but this time no weight was attached. “I like someone too.”

“Who?” I asked.

“You.” I couldn’t help but laugh, myself.

“If it isn’t clear already, I like you too.” I paused. “I mean, it was probably obvious. Like, how many instablam-obsessed artists do you know?”

“A lot. You’d be surprised.”

I sat, swinging my feet with what I could only assume was a dopey smile spread across my face. “I’ve liked you for a while. It’s nice to know you like me back.”

“Honestly? I’ve had a crush on you since we were, like, kids. Like, the first time I saw you? I was like, wow, I really want to become friends. And then we did! And you were so much cooler than I ever could’ve thought, and you’re just so…you! And you are so amazing-” I placed a small kiss on his cheek, effectively cutting him off.

“You’re rambling.” I smiled.

“I was, wasn’t I.” He laughed to himself. “Do you want to go on a date sometime with me?”

“I’d love that, Kazunari.”

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hohoz · 3 years

Text

The ones that suffer the most

I wanted to talk about this for a long time.

I’m a Resident evil addicted, I finished almost every RE game released and I must say that Capcom made some poor choices regarding Jill and Chris, they are EASILY the most mistreated characters in RE Franchise.

But let’s explain why is that:

Jill and Chris are survivors, they had to survive in a mansion with a lot of puzzles and zombies, while looking for items that could help them to progress and find a way to reach Brad.

When they arrive at STARS Office, they are revolted that Umbrella did all that under their noses and innocents were dying because of that and they explained EVERYTHING in a report - but Irons made that go away.

In the ORIGINAL RE3 we had this special file (Jill’s Diary)

August 7th Two weeks have passed since that day. My wounds have been healed, but I just can't forget it. For most people, it's history now. But for me, whenever I close my eyes, it all comes back clearly. Zombies eating people's flesh and the screams of my teammates dying. No, the wounds in my heart are not healed yet...

August 13th Chris has been causing a lot of trouble recently. What's with him? He seldom talks to the other police members and is constantly irritated. The other day, he punched Elran of the Boy's Crime department just for accidentally splashing Chris's face with coffee. I immediately stopped Chris, but when he saw me he just gave me a wink and walked away. I wonder what happened to him...

August 15th Midnight. Chris, who has been on a leave of absence for a "vacation," called me so I visited his apartment. As soon as I walked into his room, he showed me a couple of pieces of paper. They were part of a virus research report entitled as simply as "G". Then Chris told me that, "The nightmare still continues." He went on to say that, "It's not over yet." Ever since that day, he has been fighting all by himself without rest, without even telling me.

August 24th Chris left the town today to go to Europe. Barry told me that he would send his family to Canada and then he would follow Chris. I decided to remain in Raccoon City for a while because I know that the research facility in this city will be very important to this entire case. In a month or so, I'll be joining with them somewhere in Europe. That's when my real battle begins...

For some weird reason this file isn’t available in RE3 Remake.

But ok, here we see that Chris was doing some investigation - in the RE2RMK you could see this letter that Chris left in a way that normal people wouldn't understand - the only thing that Claire says is that “doesnt look like him” but how normies would understand what Chris is like is he is not well represented in media ??????????????????

And Jill had all the detective work in her wall.

So far so good - we understand the basics about them - they are Special police force, the elite, they had a traumatic experience and they survived to tell the story.

Some problems until now:

Jill had a MAJOR personality change in RE3 RMK- I honestly like most of that, she is a badass in the originals and she is a badass in the rmk but I still dislike the fact that she swears all the time (specially because in RE1, RE Rev, RE5 she doesn't do that)

We can tell a lot about her personality just looking at her room, but I still miss some stuff (I had expectations - so this is not a real problem. but still) like a Vinyl player (since she is probably into classical music), some letters from her father so new players can understand her origin and why is she so good in lockpicking and more about her dog (she had a pic in the original that could’ve been her boyfriend but it was replaced by a dog in RE2 rmk but in RE3 Rmk there in no dog)

Okay - after you finish the game the only thing we see is this:

In my opinion this is Chris since he is always associated with Green colors while Jill is associated with blue.

So my speculation here is that she found him while in the original we had this:

This is not a major chance but still is important (lore of course - duh) but the problem here is that while Jill is looking for him - Code Veronica is happening.

So I can only assume two things, they did not show him because they DON’T HAVE A FACE FOR HIM or I am wrong and that is Jill, but if that is Jill so why there is no decent epilogue like the original ?

Okay, now we are arriving in the real trouble area

I will do RE5 first and the Wii and Rev1 (even tho those two comes first in the lore)

RESIDENT EVIL 5

So before the game was release we had some propaganda, including this:

So have in mind that Jill was dead, I thought that she died and RE5 would explain that shit.

But in the beginning we see that Chris is looking for her and have in mind that Chris HAD A MAJOR CHANCE IN HIS APPEARANCE, and I’m not talking about his muscles.

I will not address Chris in CV since he was good in that game but I the team that made CV also made the original, it had CONSISTENCE.

Here we have Chris, he’s THE classical american soldier protagonist from Hollywood in the 80′s/90′s and he had some omage to TOPGUN

He also shares some traits with his sister

A major trait here is that HE HAS BLUE EYES, typical good looking soldier from US.

and now let’s have a look at Chris in RE5...

Yeah... I still hate this face even tho I love his Character in this game, this ugly a** monkey looking mf and he had a lot of steroids

So we have some lore to him in RE5, Jill and Chris went to a mansion looking for Spencer (one of the fathers of Umbrella and the one that was behind project Wesker, he wanted to do this Virus so he could live forever, so RE has a good lore, it’s not just about zombies) but when they found him, he was dead and Wesker was by his side, in a fight Jill sacrificed herself to save Chris’s life.

Chris started doing mission after mission because her body was never found, and he made a name for himself, he became a ‘legend’ inside BSAA and you can see that in the beginning of RE5.

The reason behind the muscles was probably to fight Wesker mano to mano but still is not well made, it really felt weird playing for the first time.

So now we have a problem here, there is thing that you use in a narrative that is to make someone strong af powerless, and they did that to Jill. (a good example of this is in TWD- Ricky is a fucking legend and Negan made him powerless in the face of a event)

Jill was used in a Boss fight and that is it... She is not in the game as a character, she is being manipulated and her whole design was changed, she looks like Nina from Tekken. WTF. - BTW, the fact that Wesker had mind control over her created 1000 fics of sex

So that is it, my main problem here isnt Jill itself, but it’s the fact that they used her character as a boss even tho she is the heroine, she never appears in RE lore again until some guy inside Capcom said “Well people are asking about Jill so let’s place a file in Rev2 saying that she is in rehab”

The only time that she appears again is in a 3DS NINTENDO ONLY game, it felt that Capcom simply don’t care about her character.

By the way Revelations 1 is a great game and was adaptable some years later for PC and consoles

But you think that this is bad, wait until we arrive at RESIDENT EVIL 6

When I learned that Jill was not in RE6 I was mad... But after I played that game I said “thank you God” that game was bad, transformers kind of bad, it had bad writing, the lore was all over the place and Chris was the one that suffered the most in this game.

He was responsible for the death of an entire squad, suffered amnesia and people still wanted him in the command

THEY MADE HIM AN ALCOHOLIC

The golden boy of BSAA reduced to THIS.

By the way, the director said that HE WANTED TO KILL CHRIS IN THIS GAME to SUBVERT EXPECTATIONS - so if you liked Piers now that he died only because of that.

So now let’s analyse what we know:

The first 2 main characters are not well represented in media until RE6, they don’t know how to re introduce Jill in the games and Chris was reduced to a normal guy at a Russian bar;

But it gets worse...

Capcom LOVE Leon, we know that. he is always the hero, he is the protagonist in almost every movie and he is always the cool guy so when he get’s a new model, he looks like this:

But When Chris get’s a new face he look like this:

WHO DAFUQ ARE U, no offense to the model but he has NEGATIVE JAW LINE.

And still he doesn't look like Claire’s brother, there is no blue/green eyes and he looks younger that he was in 6 (and 6 still uses that ugly character model)

But let’s go in the lore- we HAVE 0 info on Jill in RE6 / RE7 and no sight of her in RE8

And speaking of which, they tried to make Chris the bad guy in the trailer so when we play we see “Ohhhh he was not the bad guy, that happened and that is why he did that”

But still...

If they are going to do that to his character don’t use this character, shit ! Do something with that Wesker’s son that made 0 sense in RE6 but leave Chris out of this - it really feels that they simply don’t know how to treat him right

And you may think that I may be complaining a lot because of his appearance

But this is him in RE8

(to me this is some random dude from Russia)

And this is him in RE:Verse (that is going to be release TOGETHER)

So this tells me that they have 0 clue of how to handle his looks

Jill got RE3Rmk but it felt like a cheap game compared to RE2Rmk where the original RE3 was SO MUCH BETTER

And this is bad because there are so many new fans joining the fandom only to see 2 great characters suffering from poor director’s choices.

I’m sorry about this rant, if you like Chris face and looks its okay, really, but dont tell me that Chris from 5/6/8 is the same from 1/CV and if you think im wrong about Jill its fine, but she is an amazing character that could have so much more impact in RE universe (I mean, she never even appeared in a RE movie - animations)

But it’s sad to see so many characters that receive good representation in media and good games/lore while Jill get’s almost none and Chris is handled like random face guy.

I was going to talk a little bit more about Rev 1 and RE Umbrella Chronicles but there is no need since Im mad right now and it seems that Capcom has 0 interest in making Code Veronica and Umbrella’s fall after that since their fav boy Leon need a rmk in RE4 even tho RE4 is not that old.

Bonus:

Fun fact: Chris served in the Air force, so yeah, to me even Tom Cruise looks more like Chris than Chris from the games

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mrwinterr · 4 years

Text

Slippery, Smooth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets a different kind of massage.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual but still unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, oral [male receiving], thigh riding, titty fuck, cum play).

Disclaimer: I want to put it out there that while nuru massages aren’t legal in the vast majority of the U.S. or the world, I’m not condoning the underlying motive of selling sex and/or prostitution. I apologize if this may offend anyone or the culture. I did my best to read about the origins and some modern experiences. A girl just watched porn and wrote this – that’s it.

** Author’s Note (8/13/20): Read a snippet of Part 2! **

“We’ll just need you both to fill out the paperwork for some information. Please check any of the services we offer then sign the waiver on the back and when you’re both done, we’ll show you to your rooms,” the young female receptionist answered with a friendly smile on her face.

Sam returns the gesture with a smile of his own and grabs the two white clipboards with the paperwork attached to them, carefully balancing the pens placed on top so they don’t roll off. On his left, was Bucky sporting a resting bitch face, clearly showing he was dragged into this before heading to a pair of unoccupied seats. The woman unbothered by his sour demeanor pays no offense believing he’s come to the right place to relieve the stress he isn’t aware he’s been harboring.

Except Bucky really doesn’t want to be here at the spa. He just happened to be caught while walking by some of his colleagues and apparently, Sam had been asking around for someone to check out the raving massage parlor on the market with him, but mostly because it was much more of a discount to book for two than one.

With some convincing from his more levelheaded companions, suggesting Bucky continue to go out and experience more modern things while also participating in the act of self-care, he begrudgingly agreed.

“Man, hurry up. Did you forget how to spell your name?” Sam nudged at him seeing as Bucky hadn’t even filled out the first line before putting the cap back on his pen, signaling he had completed his paperwork.

“Shut up. I don’t even want to be here.” Bucky mumbled enough just for Sam to hear. It wasn’t the establishment’s fault that he felt bothered.

He let out a big sigh, filled out the basic information and skimmed at the options of the services provided. His face scrunched. There were all kinds of massages that he hadn’t heard of and some were even in different languages. Luckily, this place offered a brief description of each type.

“Barnes!” Sam, who was standing in front of the receptionist desk again, said with a now firmer tone and sending Bucky a hard look. He was getting impatient. Bucky shook his head and looked back down at the paper. Try something new. He reminded himself.

Feeling slight pressure and the practical idea of the sooner he got through with this part of the process the sooner he’d be out of this place, Bucky hastily checks off something near the middle, a different type of massage he thought sounded nice. They all sounded nice, but there were so many, he didn’t bother to finish reading through or retain any significant aspects on each of them as they all became a jumbled mess of terms in his brain. Afterall, a massage is designed to make one feel good anyways. How far south could the option he selected go?

A few more minutes went by until another woman from behind the desk emerges and calls for the two men. The receptionist bids them a good time and carries on with the next guest. To both of their relief, Bucky and Sam are placed in separate rooms.

Guess he picked a different massage. Bucky thought to himself and looked around the dim lit room. Its walls adorned with tasteful foreign artwork, different sized candles and infused with a refreshed yet soothing scent that began overtaking his senses. The place was pristine.

The employee who escorted him to this room sets the clipboard on the nearby table and instructs Bucky to prep himself with a shower that was located in the corner. Before he could ask why that was a significant part of the massage, she told him once he was done washing himself, to lie on the massage table with only his towel on and to wait for his actual masseuse, who would arrive shortly, then she left closing the door behind her.

Not wanting to think too much into it, believing perhaps it was part of the experience or this place was just super hygienic, Bucky doesn’t waste time. The masseuse could walk in any moment, so he proceeds to undress, open the clear shower door and step in.

A few months ago, aside from the people he worked with or the ones he fought against, no one would be caught alone with Bucky – especially in a vulnerable state such as being half naked and with his metal arm on display. It took a lot of self-therapy and confidence and just plain not giving a fuck anymore mindset, but now here he was letting a complete stranger touch him and take more than a peek and gander at his body. If the doctors could see him now. On top of that, there had to be a level of professionalism here anyways, he was in good hands.

Once he’s thoroughly clean, he wraps the white, fluffy towel around his waist before hopping onto the massage bed. It was big, almost like it was built for two. That was a strange thought, but nonetheless he chose to also not dwell on that and was grateful it was big enough for his burly body. He scoots around a bit to find the center and lies down, trying to relax.

He turned his head to the side, eyes wandering at the counter full of supplies – massage oils, rocks, towels, soap, a box of condoms, gloves, more towels…wait. A box of condoms? What the hell? Bucky thought now a little puzzled before turning his head back to stare at the ceiling in front of him. He closes his eyes and tries to calm his nerves once more.

Just before Bucky dozed off, as if on cue, he hears the door open and quietly close with an extra click. You finally arrived. He peeks an eye open to see the back of your figure, hair tied loosely and in a short white robe. It clung on your body different, it had to be of silk. He opens both eyes just as you turn around.

You quickly glance at his clipboard before finally fixing your eyes on your next client. His metal arm certainly didn’t go unnoticed, but that wouldn’t be a problem at all. It might sound mean, but it was one less limb to work on. All that shoved aside, he was athletically built and geez, was he a sight. Keep it together. You began telling yourself over and over. You’re a professional.

It wasn’t likely you did these kinds of massages, nor did you partake in paid sexual services just strictly intent on the art of touch and healing, but this type paid handsomely, and the lights didn’t have to be on all the way to let you see that handsome was indeed right in front of you too. You introduced yourself to the man on the massage bed but got no response.

A quiet one. You thought, but quickly shrugged it off and decided to get right to it by pulling at the end of a tassel in the knot tied around your waist to begin disrobing.

Bucky, not anticipating interacting or to be touched intimately by someone so pretty was gravely distracted, it wasn’t until he saw the skin of your cleavage that he snapped out of it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Bucky exclaims sitting up, “what are you doing?”

With a confused expression, you simply replied, “disrobing?” Then wearily proceeded to part the material to the side, but before you could reveal anything else, you heard another plea to stop.

“Wh-why?” Bucky was having a hard time trying to formulate words with the swell of your breasts peeking from behind your robe now in his view.

You turned and cocked your head a bit, still perplexed by his questions, “because it’s part of the massage.”

“Wha…what? Isn’t the person getting the massage supposed to be the one that’s…naked?” His mind was in a frenzy and that was kind of annoying you.

“For a simple massage, yes.”

“What are we doing then?” He asked incredulously.

“A nuru massage.”

“Nuru massage?”

“Yes. A nuru massage is when one massages the other person’s body with their own.” You explained as calmly as you could. He was getting increasingly agitated and your job was to help others relax not add onto the stress.

Bucky shook his head frantically and looked away from you to stop his eyes from wandering too long on your body. He could tell you didn’t have anything else underneath. “This has to be a mistake. You must have the wrong room.”

You scoffed, covering yourself up again and snatching the clipboard on the nearby counter. “Aren’t you…James B. Barnes?” You skim over it before asking and turning the clipboard to prove to him that you were in the right room assigned to him.

He craned his neck forward to inspect the piece of paper he held not too long ago, his messy handwriting complete with his illegible signature staring right back at him.

“Well, yeah…”

“Then I have the right room and you checked off for a nuru massage.” You say crossing your arms as he took the clipboard from your hands to read more about what the massage actually entails.

“This-this can’t be legal though.” He said shaking his head and thinking about how it could even be acceptable for this kind of service without eliciting some sort of sexual stimulation from the other party. Bodies gliding against each other? It just couldn’t possibly go smooth or well…work.

“It’s not…” you replied like it’s a known fact but then were quick to respond seeing his eyes widening in overreaction, “in most areas of the world but it’s absolutely legal here!”

“But it’s basically pros-“ he didn’t even finish that last sentence catching himself when he saw your now offended expression.

Does this asshole really think he is going to just sit there and get away with downright calling you a prostitute?

“You don’t know shit about me,” you spat. Handsome or not, deciding he wasn’t as openminded as most people and harshly tied a new knot to the robe you were still wearing signaling you were about to walk out. He wasn’t worth the few extra digits to your paycheck.

“No! Wait!” He pleaded; guilt ridden. As he let out a deep sigh, you stayed put to hear him out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. You’re right! I don’t know shit about you, but I also don’t know what a nuru massage is. I came here with a friend to help him get a good deal and I clearly wasn’t paying attention to what I signed up for.”

You nodded and decided to be civil since he was owning up to his mistake. “Okay. Apology accepted. I see why you freaked out, but you’re clearly not comfortable with the idea of this,” you responded while your hands helped convey your words, “so I can see what I can do to get you a refund,” and walked over to him to retrieve the clipboard.

It would’ve taken a significant blow to your pay – losing a client for the day – but you weren’t going to put anyone in a situation they weren’t familiar or comfortable with.

“Well…” He spoke up, placing his right hand on top of yours causing you to look up at him.

Wow, his eyes. They held the same color that reminded you of the kind water in a pool could reflect. The soothing kind of blue. You felt like you were glued to the spot, almost hypnotized.

“I mean I’m already here. I don’t want to take any business away from you. Again, I’m sorry I overreacted. What’s life without experience, right?”

And that deep voice... Shit, snap out of it! Remember, you’re a professional.

You gave him a small smile for his change of heart and willingness to try something new.

“Right,” you said forcing yourself to look away. Fuck, I hope I wasn’t staring for too long, “but I’m letting you know now, this isn’t a normal massage,” daring to look back at him for reassurance, “if at any moment you’re uncomfortable, we can change things up. Afterall, I’m very good with my hands.” You hoped to regain your composure with that last line. It wasn’t a lie though.

Bucky sends you a smile of his own before letting you go to lie back down properly, waiting for the next move. You cautiously disrobed without any protest from him. You noticed Bucky visibly swallowed the thick lump in his throat now that you were completely nude in front of him.

“Are you okay?” You were going to have to be patient with this one. He wasn’t going to be like any other you treated. It was easy for you to just stand there naked and you weren’t bothered by nudity at all, but that doesn’t mean everyone else is.

With a nod of his head, you reached for the towel to untuck the bunched-up portion at the side of his waist, mindful to not expose him of the slightest to spare him some modesty, while asking him to move just enough to let it rest on his body and cover his lower half like a blanket would.

You decided to let him keep his towel on for the time being and focus on his upper body. Next, you instructed him to turn and lie on his stomach, you’d start with his back first. You lifted the towel in a modest manner like you would for anyone so he could maneuver with ease. Once he settled in a comfortable position, you began the treatment.

“The word nuru stems from the Japanese term for slippery or smooth.” Talking to your clients was a technique most in your line of profession use to help distract or relax them to get the job done – that and it’s just good customer service showing that you care and know just what the fuck you’re doing.

You expertly jumped up onto the small space left on the bed to get into a straddling position on your knees hovering just over the small of his back and covered ass. Judging by the hump, it kind of looked nice to sit on.

“I’m going to start by applying nuru gel all over your body and mine, but we’ll start small, alright.” You carefully poured a generous amount of the warm massage gel in the palm of your hand lathering up your arms, chest, torso, thighs and fortunately you were flexible enough to reach parts of your back, but for parts you couldn’t, would transfer off his body to yours later on.

Scooping up a bit more, you watched as the gel dropped in a fine line and pool onto his back before beginning to spread it all over the expanse of his toned body in soothing motions. You started to gently press with your knuckles on the surface his muscles.

“The gel is actually made out of natural Nori seaweed,” you started explaining the colorless and odorless substance while progressing lower on his back with both hands, digging your thumbs near the lumbar region and compressing some of your weight down. You paid attention to specific areas of the body that draws the most tension. His body became visibly lax and less strained the more you worked your magic; soon enough Bucky was sure he would be putty in your hands.

Still perched up on your knees and not wanting to slip, you took initiative and just plopped down onto his plush yet firm backside. Even if a towel remained as a barrier between you both, you felt his glutes tense up underneath you, most likely having startled him. Trying to find a way to help him relax again, you tried to comfort him with more facts.

“It has other healthful benefits such as providing great moisturization to the skin,” you leaned down on your forearms and started an up and down repetition.

Your hands then travelled to his sides and you hoped he wasn’t ticklish before they met at the back of his neck to perform the simplest of massages ever. However basic as it might’ve seemed, felt like Heaven’s touch on Bucky’s end as he couldn’t help but let out a moan of satisfaction.

You were so good at it, working out all the kinks in his neck using your skilled fingers, he had to let out an approving moan after moan with each touch that hit the spot. The elicited sound racked through his body that you felt it reverberate all the way down to your core. You were crossing over a forbidden line, but that wasn’t letting you up. You had wanted to hear and feel that again.

“You’re really tense aren’t, you?” You comment continuing your handy work into the knots around his lower neck, slowly adding more pressure and testing his limits. His response was an even louder and deeper moan. Unknowingly, it caused you to shift, more like ground, your hips against his lower body. You mentally patted yourself on the back for keeping the towel there to absorb your juices. He didn’t need to try and figure out if it was the nuru gel or the sudden wetness pooling in you that his skin was swimming in.

Then you lowered your entire body, your chest now pressed against his back. Your head was close to his, you could smell the scent of the soap the facility provided for the massage prep mixed with his own and you swore he smelled more relaxing than any stress-free candle or burning incense ever could.

Due to the close proximity, you spoke even softer right next to his ear, “the combination of the nuru gel and full body contact or the touch of another human help to release toxins from the body and boost the feelgood chemicals in the brain.”

You paired that piece of knowledge with sliding up and down his back, your hands trailing up his arms that were bent but sprawled above his hand, grasping at the front of his hands to briefly interlock them before letting them go to repeat the actions.

Deciding enough time was spent on the upper area, you carefully swung around, gathered a bit more gel and snuck your hands underneath the towel to glide up the hill of his ass. Without protest, you seized the moment and experimentally grabbed a handful of each cheek before releasing the flesh and sail further down to his muscular thighs. Oh, you wish you could see them, but reminded yourself to approach each step with caution with him.

The towel still restricted you from attending to his calves, so you pulled your hands back out and scooted up to pull the towel up from the other end and treat them with the same amount of attention. After that treatment was done, you had him revert to his original position on his back.

As he settled, you reached over to pour some more gel and help slicken his front half.

“Interesting fact, nuru massages originated in Japan as a disguise to pay for sexual services,” you say as your hands spanned across the planes of his pecs, “but nuru massages are much more than an erotic massage.”

“How so?” Bucky asked genuinely curious because he was having a hard time trying to strain his cock from hardening. Thankfully for him, you were seated on his lower abdomen and barely inches away from his member.

“Think of them as more so sensual than sexual.”

Accepting that outlook, Bucky had to ask, “how did you get into…this?”

You knew he meant performing nuru massages and not your career in general, “I took a trip to Japan during a break from studying,” you replied and now tracing the lines of his abs. That sort of action, so close to his dick, created a ghostly tingle to run down Bucky’s lower region.

Counting each one of his abs to help distract you from the twitch of his cock that he thought you probably didn’t feel hit you, you continued your story, “like you, I also didn’t know what I signed up for either.”

With your breasts out in front of him squished between your upper arms as you continued to rub him and all slick from the gel, your skin seemed ever so inviting for him to touch, but he refrained from doing so. There was really no way to avoid getting aroused with this kind of massage. He was about to give up the fight. He needed to relax, right?

“Um, how-how was…he?” He asked trying to not ask awkwardly. You smiled noting he was having a hard time trying to look at your face and not your boobs. A guy like this at your fingertips? What woman’s ego wouldn’t be boosted? You had control.

Keeping in mind he is new to this, but also that the vitality of full body contact in this massage, you treated his front half to the same tactic you used on his back by laying your body flat on his.

“She was amazing,” you answered, your face now close to his you could feel the warmth of his breath puff out as he tried to regulate his breathing. The close proximity allowing you to feel the beat of his heart. You noticed the bob of his throat to that reveal, two women all oiled up.

“She taught me a lot of moves actually.” An innocent anecdote produced a whine from Bucky that he felt ashamed of slip out. Okay, maybe you got to bring it back down. “The first time I ever performed a nuru massage, I almost slipped off the massage table!”

What you hoped for was to lighten the mood, you didn’t expect was for him to bust out laughing at you. The sudden outburst took you by surprise that you almost reenacted the shared memory, but Bucky was quick to catch you with his left arm before you fell. His arms encased around you as he turned on his back with you now lying parallel, legs between his now parted ones underneath the towel that still managed to stay on.

“Oh my God,” you said burying your face into the crook of his neck, not giving a damn that the massage gel would get on your face. That first fall from your past was one of the most embarrassing moments of your career and here you were about to relive it or perhaps create one that would top it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky said tucking you in his arms as his flesh hand ran up and down the curves of your slick back, the metal one resting just above the curve of your ass. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just that you’re so poised and professional, having to imagine you being that clumsy took me off guard.”

Your eyes drifted down and noticed the scarred tissue of his skin that divided the metal from him. He probably ached there sometimes. You made a mental note to fit his arm somewhere in your routine.

“I’ve never told anyone that story before,” you admitted looking at him. Your eyes lingering at his pink lips that were parted. He brushed a strand of your hair away and cupped your face. You leaned into his hand and if he didn’t know it, you were the one that was putty in his hands.

Earning yourself another beautiful smile from him you got back into position. “Do you mind?” You ask referring to the towel. Having spent some time with you and seeing a more vulnerable side, he shook his head and let you rip the towel from beneath you and drop it to the floor.

“It’s okay to get hard,” you said trying to address the elephant in the room. You watched him stammer with his words, “it’s perfectly natural. Remember, this massage is designed to tease your senses and bring your body to full ecstasy.” Your now pressed against him again, rubbing your body up and down, hands trailing upwards to let your fingers intertwine with his again.

Feeling your breasts glide up just enough to stop under his chin, he kept tilting his head back as if he was neck deep in water, but if he was being honest, he would rather just drown in them at this point. Bucky tries to remain calm even if you assured him that getting aroused during a massage was a common occurrence.

“Relax, James,” you said releasing one of his hands to cradle his head and set it in a regular position. You just made it a point to not practically motorboat the poor guy.

“It’s Bucky,” he said, “please just call me Bucky. James is too formal.”

“Okay, Bucky,” you confirm by pressing your forehead against his.

Not taking your eyes off each other, you glided down a few inches so you’re face-to-face with the junction of the skin and metal and began leaving light feather kisses to the sensitive area. Adding a little squeeze to the flesh hand that was still in your grasp, Bucky felt his heart soar a bit. You, so unperturbed by the once traitorous appendage, were so gentle and the level of intimacy you carried, he wondered if you were like this to your other clients. He felt like a damn fool for falling for your every move.

“Are most of your clients men?” Bucky wondered.

“No. I don’t limit my services to just men. Most times, my favorite are the women. Nuru is open for anyone of any gender or sexual orientation.”

You slithered down again until you trapped one of his thighs between your legs. Lord, give me the strength to not cum. You prayed and begun rocking your hips almost sinfully.

Fuck, was this part of her normal routine? Bucky asked himself but wouldn’t deny the combination of her wet pussy and its soft lips gliding along his thighs felt good. Not to mention the way your hands grip at the grooves of his Adonis belt, nails slightly digging into his skin, watching your hips move. He didn’t miss the look on your face, eyebrows knitted in concentration and your plump bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“Do you enjoy this too?”

You knew what he was going for. Did you get a rise out of this? You regained control of your body and shrugged, “I mean, touch is therapeutic in some cases, but if you’re wondering, most places or depending on the masseuse have modified nuru massages.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Not everyone gets a happy ending.” You were a masseuse specialist and not in a line of sex. It was the most misconstrued thing about it. Noticing the look on his face, you concluded that he must’ve not known the term “happy ending.”

“Sex. A happy ending is what usually culminates from a nuru massage,” you cleared the air. It was adorable to see the surprised look on his face. Yet, underneath the sheen line of sweat that had built up on his forehead, Bucky was internally relieved to hear that you didn’t actually partake in any sexual penetration or acts from this type of massage.

Okay, maybe that number on his thigh wasn’t part of your routine. You’d never been that needy. Before you could fly off the edge, you didn’t even peg yourself to be a sadist and actually edge yourself. You wondered if you could fully set ethical standards aside and go through it.

You set that same leg between your breasts and strategically slid from up his thigh before stopping just below the waist to keep his rather endowed member confined.

“You know, it’s a shame the reputation that nuru massages have,” you started, pushing your boobs together with your hands. You felt his cock jolt at the contact, “the first thing that comes to people’s minds in terms of nuru is fucking porn, but nuru has its benefits.”

“Like what?” Bucky asks breathily as you started practically titty fucking him. Is she serious? Are we in a porno? He thought seeing as there’s no way he was going to not cum any second.

“Yeah. Believe it or not, it’s proven to help couples spice up their love lives and even repair them.”

“H-how?” He tried to keep up with conversation, but it was so hard, he was so hard, as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from between the depths of your breasts. He hoped you hadn’t noticed that his pre-cum had been aiding in the slickness as it mixed in with the nuru gel. You were warm and soft and slick…and he wasn’t even buried deep in your pussy.

“I think you can guess one of the factors, but it’s more than just a physical connection, really,” you explain and release him. You move back up, body once more parallel to his, your hands smearing more of the gel around his chest, “it allows for one to feel more comfortable in their own skin and even create new sensations.”

“Almost sounds like a spiritual journey,” he said with seriousness his eyes meeting yours.

“It can be,” you responded with. You were so close to his face again. Not sure how long you sat there staring at him, but as ironic as it was, the setting in a massage parlor, one with a purpose to help the other, you both seemed to create a new kind of tension. A tension that was almost too thick you feared it wasn’t something your hands could resolve.

You stared down at his enchanting features, soft, pink lips that were parted, cute nose, the half-lidded eyes but that still shone from the blue that managed to peek out. Your hands trailed up to touch his face. He was so tempting.

Fuck it. All caution thrown out the window, your lips crashed against his. It wasn’t bruising nor soft, but enough to cut the tension that had built up in the room. To your astonishment, he didn’t object to your advances and pressed his lips back to yours and opening up wider to let you slip your tongue in. He caught your tongue in his mouth with his lips and enclosed around the muscle, sucking on it, causing you to gasp and pull away breathlessly.

You push yourself up just enough to get a full look at him with your hands on his chest. A slight nod of his head was all you needed to dive back in. Your lips massaged against his as you both kissed with such fervor, your hands threading into the short locks of his hair slightly pulling at what you could grasp in your fingers. The echoes of his moans and the light tap of his cock that had twitched in response against your lower abdomen was a dead giveaway sign that he liked that.

However, the continue rocking of your body against his, wasn’t going to help alleviate his raging hard on. It was pressed so hard in between you, it almost felt embedded into your skin. You slithered back down, leaving a trail of kisses from the column of his neck, chest – even managing to teeth at one of his nipples tauntingly – the line between his abs until you were met with the tip of his cock, which was unashamedly leaking.

You jeered around his head, placing lightweight kisses down the side of his cock, purposely avoiding the large vein on the underside, to his balls. Your eyes never leaving Bucky’s, who had his head propped under his flesh arm to watch you. Your hands still slick with the gel, you started to fondle him before taking them, one at a time, in your warm, wet mouth to gently suck on.

You weren’t sure who lost the staring contest this time between you two, but his head lulled back at the sensation and yours closed shut, full of him and savoring the taste of his skin. Pulling away with a pop, you wrapped a hand around his shaft to let his cock stand at full attention.

Bucky finally opened his eyes and picked his head back up to look at you just in time to watch you smear his pre-cum all over your lips and swallow him. You downed as much of his cock as you could before hollowing your cheeks and coming back up with your tongue dragging across the underside of him, bobbing up and down.

Without a warning, you pull away for a brief moment, a string of mixed fluids leave a web trail from him to you, “It’s okay to touch me, Bucky,” you say stroking his cock but also noticing his hands had been gripping onto the edge of the bed and hoping to encourage him to fully give in to his desires.

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice as his hands found purchase in your hair pushing you back down his cock. He let out a loud groan when he felt the tip of your nose bury in the soft hairs of his happy trail. You weren’t expecting that kind of aggression from him, it caused you to involuntarily gag around him. Your throat constricting around his cock only caused him more indisputable pleasure he jut his hips up, lodging himself even further.

When you pulled away again, this time with your own saliva and his cum dribbling down your chin, your eyes were slightly red and tearstained. Your ragged breathing, lips glistening and swollen, hair matted against your face. You looked so fucked, so raw.

He pulled you up to him once more, your legs instinctively setting on either side of him, your dripping cunt hovering just over his cock that lied resting on his stomach. He wiped at your chin before kissing you, his tongue darting all around the wet cavern of your mouth and tasting himself. Something about that was so filthy yet so erotic.

Your legs spread further apart, and you pressed yourself against his cock. The contact causing you both to draw out loud moans. You did your best to drag your sopping folds along his stiff member, but the bed had become so slippery, you were finding it hard to pull yourself back up on your knees. Bucky must’ve picked up on the small struggle as he grabbed handfuls of your ass to help aid you in sliding your pussy up and down his cock.

You could feel just how hard he was and the underside and ridges of the head of his cock scraping against your clit, pulled all sorts of tremors from your body. You were a whimpering mess, clinging onto Bucky’s body trying to find your footing, but your senses were on overdrive.

“I know, it’s your job to make me feel good,” he said continuing to rut up against you, “but go ahead…just let go.” Oh, how he would love to watch you unravel and you weren’t one to deny him. You wildly came undone, from the buildup of riding his thigh and now this, you gushed all over his cock.

Wrecked, you knew this was far from over. Once you reclaimed control of your senses, Bucky at your full attention, you snaked a hand between your bodies and lifted yourself up to position his eager cock at your entrance.

“Tell me, Bucky,” you said trying your best to dominate the situation and started teasing yourself, “…do you want a happy ending,” you asked seductively, licking his lips and your eyes never leaving his.

His heartbeat accelerated with each running pass of the tip of his cock made through your folds. If his ending was right here on this massage bed, he’d take it because you were a fucking tease. The string of curses that flowed out his mouth caused a smirk to form on your lips.

You felt his metal hand grab yours shoving it away, enough of your teasing, he repositioned himself at your hole, gripped your hips and slid right in you with ease. You internally applauded the designers of the building for making each room soundproof because let’s face it, no one wants to hear how good the person next door is feeling – especially not like this, not the sounds you and Bucky were producing.

Each slide up and down his thick length, Bucky found himself almost fully engulfed by your breasts again. He stopped you for a moment so he could finally get his mouth on them, but you weren’t about to catch a break. No. Bucky instead planted his feet on the bed and began thrusting up into you almost too vigorously, but you sucked it up. Letting him use you to work out his frustrations.

Then you sat up, hands sprawled on his chest and started grounding your hips. The way his cock swiveled with each rotation you made, had you reeling as the tip just barely kept hitting that spot.

Bucky straightened out his legs from behind you and managed to sit up, cradling the small of your back and gently laying you down.

“Slow down, baby,” he says trying to contain the relentlessness drive you had on fucking him by keeping your hips at bay, so he pulled out resulting in a displeased noise to come out of you.

He just needed to get into a new position, on his knees, your right leg hoisted up on his shoulder while he pushed down on the other to spread your legs further apart, just for him to easily plunge back into your wet heat and drawing out long and satisfied moans from you both.

“Fuck, it feels so good. You’re so good, Bucky,” you whined.

“I’m supposed to be saying that to you,” he chuckled almost breathlessly, coming down and placing his lips on yours with a kiss that had your head swimming. He pulled back to take a look down, loving the sight of him snug inside your warm walls. With his flesh hand, he pressed his fingers onto your clit, rubbing harsh circles, you grabbed and clawed at his forearm at the immense pleasure, eyes widening because it was proving to be too much.

The twisting coil that was settling in you suddenly snapped. With a loud rough moan, you were uncontrollably quaking beneath him, you knew Bucky couldn’t be far away from you. His bruising grip on your thighs and the faltering thrusts of his hips from your walls squeezing at him repetitively, he finally let go, emptying himself until he was sure he was completely spent. Fuck, and you loved feeling his cum shoot deep in you.

Watching his abdominal muscles contract with every breath, he pulled out and tried to regain his breathing, but before he could collapse, he used his last remaining ounce of strength to pull you up and back down with him on the other end of the massage bed.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks you this time short of breath. You managed to let out a tiresome laugh and pathetically slapped his chest, but knew it was to no avail with what little energy you had left.

Several moments later, you both had calmed down and were prolonging the inevitable end. Bucky watched as you absentmindedly traced the outline of his metal arm. He longed for someone that was raw in nature, confident and there you were – walking into his life by mistake. He wasn’t sure where you stood aside from a physical standpoint, but he strangely craved for more.

You managed to stand back up on your own feet and drag Bucky back into the shower to clean off. You helped each other wash off the gel and mixed juices, with a few kisses shared here and there riddled along with soft sweet praises.

After helping you wipe down the bed and tidy up the room, Bucky couldn’t help but realize he felt good. Gone was the grumpy man that came against his own will. He definitely felt refreshed and his body felt great. This place really was all that it cracked up to be and he was just lucky enough to be assigned to you.

“What?” You asked catching him starting just as you slipped your robe back on.

“I want to see you again,” he says getting up from the bed.

You smiled at that. No one has ever made you feel that good. Your bodies seemed to be in sync with one another. Plus, during that last shower, you deduced that he could be a big softie when he wanted to be.

You wanted to see him again too and you would let him.

Once Bucky stepped back into the lobby, his peace of mind was shattered when he heard Sam yell. “Finally!” He watched as his friend threw the magazine he wasn’t really reading aside and stand up with a loose smile on his face. “How do you feel, man?”

“Amazing.” Bucky’s tone was audibly smoother and calm as opposed to earlier.

“Good! You were in there for a long time. I don’t know what massage you chose, but whatever they did on you...I’m glad it knocked out that attitude of yours,” he says as if he didn’t have one before his massage.

“Whatever. You’re exaggerating.”

“I even left to get something to eat and you were still in there!”

Shit. Were you both really that long? Was that normal? To Bucky it didn’t seem so. In fact, he wanted more time with you.

They both approach the same receptionist from earlier, who now donned a subtle smug disposition seeing the change in complexion on Bucky.

“Would you like to leave a tip?” She asked Bucky politely and just before he could say yes, he was interrupted.

“Oh, he’s good! He’s all taken care of,” you quickly interjected, popping out of nowhere and effectively grabbing Bucky’s attention one more time with a sweet smile. You wanted to be the last thing he saw when he walked out that door. Bucky didn’t even hear Sam ask how in the world he got you as his masseuse.

Your co-worker nodded understandingly before turning to Sam to ask if he’d like to book another visit.

“Yeah…when is she next available?” Sam asks the receptionist while looking at you. You hadn’t managed to only grab Bucky’s attention, but also his friend.

How Bucky hadn’t noticed it before everything was beyond him. You had a certain glow that was very alluring. He wondered if it was possible for anyone to look away from you or not smile in your presence.

Something Bucky failed to conceal was the rising discomfort he was feeling hearing the suggestive tone in Sam’s voice when speaking about you mixed with a small bubble of anxiety on if there was a possibility that he’d get to be alone in a room with you.

Before Sam could get a definite answer, you looked to your co-worker at the front desk, grinned at each other and then back over at the two men.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m booked,” sending a wink towards Bucky and disappearing to the back.

A/N: I work in digital marketing and what with all the searching I did I’m now paranoid that I’ll be targeted for a massage…even though I could use one. I did my best to proofread. Let me know if you liked it!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #slippery smooth

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icequeenbae · 3 years

Text

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 3 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~4.5k (Chapter 3)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Heyy! How’re you guys doing so far?^^ Sooo, this chapter is the longest of all since the story begins to unfold here! The next one is the finale already, and it’s going to be pretty epic, dare I say;) Let me know what kind of plot twists you’re anticipating! 💥

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 3. The little birdie told me

For an entire week after you first had sex, you’d stayed away. You felt guilty and foolish for letting that happen. Was he a rebound? Was it even acceptable that you did it with your ex-boyfriend’s twin? Could you live with yourself, knowing what he tasted like, or how his voice became gruff as he really got into it? And, worst of all, you wanted to experience that again. You were virtually ashamed to recall the night you’d spent with him, his roughness that left bruises (not entirely unpleasant), his bossiness that made you come out of your own shell to take what you wanted, what you needed, from him. Thinking back to the way you slammed yourself onto his thighs, or how he then folded you in half and made you come, or the name-calling… It was unbearable because despite believing that you’d made a shameless mistake, you wanted to make it all over again. You wanted to feel his prickly touch on your skin, and his prurient eyes not missing a single curve of your body. You wanted to be pushed by him, and you couldn’t understand the nature of any of those desires. Was it because you’d developed feelings for him? Or because he offered you such a pleasant way of self-destruction?

In his hands, you fell apart and reassembled. Not entirely the same, but then how could you be? The person who broke you had left for good, taking pieces of your puzzle with him. It seemed like a better option than to stay depressed and waiting to be fixed, ending up never achieving completeness.

Baëkhyun wasn’t a perfect fit for you, nor was he someone to heal your pain with the tenderness of his own heart. But only with him, you felt these strong emotions again. Only with him your heart was not aching but fluttering again, excited by the dangerous smirk he was wearing, and the predatory eyes that promised to devour you in the most delectable ways possible.

You stayed away, contemplating your decision and the rationale for it. The questions in your head seemed never-ending. Were you subconsciously trying to get back at Baekhyun? Were you replacing him? Or maybe you were just this quick in finding someone else to hand your still-broken heart over to? Baëkhyun did not seem like the guy who’d want it. He was kind of a bad guy, if you could even be the judge of that. Yet he had never actually hurt you, and he did not like to see you upset, even when it was over someone else.

Or because it was over someone else.

And although you didn’t consider him to be boyfriend material, you decided to give it a try. Not at all expecting it to be a relationship – you weren’t ready for a new one anyway. Still, you wanted to continue this unusual arrangement. Or so you’d been telling yourself when you texted him to come over after a week of radio silence.

As easy as it was for you to grow attached to him as your strange relationship quickly progressed, it should have been a warning sign. Baëkhyun kept asking you about the boys, the time you spent with Baekhyun at their base, and the stuff they’d told you about. And it wasn’t like you just spilled all the secrets – he usually asked about completely random stuff that seemed quite harmless to reveal.

But he was also a strategist. And you had no idea how powerful his mind was.

***

You laid your head on Baëkhyun’s chest, still hot and sweaty after the hours spent roughing up the bed. He stayed with you this time, arm wrapped around your waist intimately.

‘I didn’t expect you to be a natural,’ he hummed out of nowhere.

‘Hm?’ You turned slightly in his hold.

‘You’re getting pretty good at going after what you want. Will suit you well, being a little bad, birdie.’

‘Birdie?’ He met your curious eyes and chuckled, pressing you closer into his side.

‘Ain’t it accurate? You’re like a baby bird that I’m teaching how to fly.’ He stared for a moment. ‘You shouldn’t be down because of anyone anymore. I’d take personal offense if you are,’ he accentuated.

The uninvited warmth seeped into you, and you nuzzled his neck in a fit of affection.

‘Maybe you have to teach me more,’ you teased. ‘Scratch that. Teach me more.’

‘Now you’re just greedy,’ he sneered. ‘But I don’t mind.’

He allowed you to place a few kisses onto the side of his neck, before catching your hand, tracing his V-line down.

‘As much as I enjoy wrecking you, I don’t think you can take any more today.’

‘Aw, worried about me?’ You mocked, biting onto his collarbone playfully.

He squeezed your ass cheek in response.

‘Don’t test me. If you like a little more pain, it can be arranged. But not like this. It’s not what you truly want.’

‘How do you know that it’s not,’ you whined, as he patted your ass.

‘I know you, birdie. And I have a feeling that you’ve learned more about yourself in the last month than in the years prior. Care to give me some credit?’ His icy blue eyes gleamed in the dim lighting.

‘I really wanna blow you right now,’ you deadpanned. Baëkhyun was so, so alluring with that sexy hoarse laugh of his.

‘Wake me up with it tomorrow. If you want it that much.’

But the morning of slow lustful awakening didn’t come – instead, you awoke in an empty bed, alone. Brushing your teeth and washing up quickly, you headed to the kitchen to find your lover... And froze on the spot as soon as you caught bits of the hushed conversation.

‘I’m aware it’s been weeks but building trust takes time, you know? She’s already told me so much-’ Baëkhyun stopped mid-sentence, supposedly interrupted, and sighed. ‘Don’t. I’ll bring her in myself. Yes, I got it, Suhø. I’ll drag her in if I have to.’

You felt anxiety rise at his words, cold sweat breaking. Was he- talking about you? Or was he ‘building trust’ with some other girl? No, that was bound to be you. And who was he conversing with?

Everything was unclear, but your intuition had you tiptoeing back and walking from the bathroom to the kitchen a little louder this time. He finished his call as soon as you entered the kitchen.

‘Hey,’ he beamed at you as if the previous conversation did not take place.

‘Morning,’ you forced a little smile. ‘Were you talking to someone?’

‘Just now? Yeah,’ you feigned curiosity and wrapped your arms around his waist to avoid raising suspicion with your weird behavior or the slight nervous tremor in your hands. ‘Actually, I wanted to take you out today. You can meet some of my friends.’

‘Today?’ He nodded and you blinked, trying to come up with an excuse and fast. ‘Where?’

‘You’ll see. It’s not exactly in the city, so don’t dress all fancy,’ his hand settled on the small of your back.

It was clear now that earlier he had been talking to someone about bringing you in. And having your trust, which, obviously, was his goal from the very beginning. You realized that you needed to slip out carefully.

‘Um, about that… My friend from uni just called. She woke me up, actually. Asked to meet up today, and I already said yes, so…’ You trailed off.

‘Can’t you reschedule? We really should go tonight, while everyone’s in the neighborhood.’

‘Oh,’ you chewed on your lip. ‘She’s going through a rough time, so I have to meet her today. Sorry,’ you added, acting guilty.

He frowned, deep in thought.

‘Can we go after?’ He suggested. ‘I can pick you up in the evening.’

Biting your tongue, you weighed your options carefully. You did not want to alert him as to your attempt to shake him off your tail.

‘Yeah. Sure,’ you forced a smile on your face. ‘I’ll text you when I head back home for a change of clothes, and then we can go.’

‘Perfect,’ he smiled again, before pecking your lips. ‘I’ll head out for a few hours then,’ you nodded, walking him to the door.

Before Baëkhyun opened it, he turned around, catching you by surprise, and kissed you properly. The way he rarely kissed you outside your sex marathons. Deeply, full of… some kind of emotion? You couldn’t really grasp it, but your mind blanked out for a few seconds and you responded. Whimpering into his demanding mouth as his arms hugged you tightly to his body, you felt so tiny and defenseless, almost needy for his protection. But that was a deceiving sentiment.

‘Stay safe, little birdie,’ he whispered into your lips. ‘I’ll be waiting for your message. Don’t make me wait too long.’

‘Okay,’ you promised, and he finally walked out.

Closing the door, you let out a shaky sigh.

You were fucked.

At first, you almost had a panic attack, breath growing shallow and erratic. Having no idea what to do or how to get yourself out of this, you grabbed your phone and dialed the only number you could think of in this situation.

‘Please, Baekhyun,’ you whispered. ‘I’m so scared-’

But he was unavailable again.

Almost sobbing at the automatic answer, you dropped the phone and looked around. There was no one to help you, so you had to save yourself now. Wiping the tears, you grabbed your backpack and started shoving the most important items in it. Your documents, phone, wallet. A change of clothes. A pepper spray you found on your roommate’s shelf, which, you supposed, would be useless against someone like Baëkhyun. But did you have any other option? You had no powers and you would definitely not stand a chance against him in combat. Baekhyun used to train you a little, but you couldn’t even touch him in sparring unless he let you.

It was apparent that your only option was to run. So you did.

You jumped into the first cab you could get and asked the driver to head to the railway station. Making a mistake of not looking at him, you got onto your phone to try and figure out where to go from there. You didn’t notice that the car wasn’t even going in the right direction – not until it was taking a sharp turn right, off the main road, and onto the vacant plot of land, shielded from the road by a line of trees.

‘Excuse me, where are we going?’ You asked, looking around in confusion, finally paying attention.

‘I think we should take the quicker means of transportation, don’t you, Y/N?’ You saw a pair of oddly colored eyes in the mirror, and then the driver turned to face you.

‘J- Jongin?’ You gasped. ‘What’s wrong with your-’

‘It’s Kāi, darling,’ he chuckled, reaching for your arm.

Operating on instinct, you dodged his hand and attempted to open the door. It was locked.

‘Tsk. I thought we’d do it the nice way. Hyung asked me, after all,’ he tutted. ‘But I don’t think you’re willing to work with me here,’ he gritted that last part, suddenly pouncing at you through the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seats.

You screamed and struggled, and then…

It was a blur.

Like movie scenes, your surroundings were changing around you rapidly, too fast for you to catch anything. It may have lasted a split second, but made you so dizzy that you shut your eyes to battle it. When you finally opened them again, your vision was still foggy – the entire surroundings spinning. Kāi let go of your arm, allowing you to stumble forward and barely get a hold of a vertical surface before releasing the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

‘I told you to be gentle with her. She’s not used to teleporting.’ Unmistakably, it was Baëkhyun’s voice.

‘I brought her here in one piece. See arms or legs missing? No? That’s about as gentle as I get.’ The taller one rolled his eyes.

Baëkhyun approached you, a frown on his face, and helped get your hair out of your face despite your weak protests.

‘Let’s get you inside,’ he said, holding you up by the shoulders when your insides were finally done doing flips.

‘Don’t touch me,’ you coughed, pressing your side into the wall to get away from the physical contact.

‘Y/N, please. Just do as you’re told if you don’t want to be hurt.’ You looked up at him, angry at yourself for being this dumb, but also upset because your trust was again broken.

And even though you kept telling yourself that you and Baëkhyun only had ‘a casual thing’ going on, it did hurt. It hurt like a motherfucker, because you were used by a person you... fell in love with. You didn’t understand much of their plan yet, but something told you that it was all meant to hurt another person you loved.

Your feelings had always clouded your judgment. And now you’d gotten yourself into a completely lose-lose situation.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Baëkhyun pursed his lips. ‘You shouldn’t have tried to run away.’

‘Right. Bad little birdie for thinking of self-preservation and for once seeing someone for what he is,’ you mocked frustratedly.

‘I’m truly wondering how you restrain yourself from slapping her.’ You heard Kāi muse from behind Baëkhyun. ‘Maybe you should head in, and I’ll teach her how to cooperate, hyung.’

‘Let’s go,’ the blonde one grabbed your wrist and nodded to his crude green-haired companion. ‘Lead the way.’

You had no choice but to allow him to drag you into the building. Only then you noticed that it was somewhere you’d been before – the base previously utilized by Baekhyun and the boys. Before they abandoned it, of course. It looked different and foreign now, the hallways long and dark as you were taken to the bigger room with a round table, where the others were waiting.

At that point you saw their faces, struck by the similarities all of them bore to the squad you used to know. Your head was spinning again.

‘H- how? Who are you?’ You managed, taking in the unfamiliar variations of familiar faces.

‘So, I take it he didn’t educate her on the clones?’ Chanyeol, or at least someone who looked like him, sneered.

‘What clones? I thought-’

You were interrupted by Baëkhyun, who cleared his throat and announced.

‘She’s here, let’s begin.’

‘Don’t act like we’re not the ones who had to wait while you played with your target,’ someone scoffed from the farther side of the table.

‘Shut up, Chën.’ The silvery-white head shot a glare in his direction, eyes going from grayish blue to a darker shade. ‘Suhø,’ he turned to the red-haired man.

‘Well, well,’ he got up from his chair. ‘If it isn’t the Y/N. To be honest, you should thank Baëkhyun for having so much patience – our first idea was to kidnap and torture you for intel.’

Your eyes flicked back to Baëkhyun’s profile, but he didn’t spare you a glance.

‘Oh, I see you’re still looking for comfort in a familiar face. That’s not part of the plan. Baëkhyun, step out.’

The strategist’s head turned at the leader’s words.

‘What?’

‘Get out of the room. I don’t need her to think she has someone to count on here.’

‘But-’

‘I told you we’re not going to kill her, only use her.’ You swallowed, realizing your heart was beating somewhere in your throat at this announcement.

‘Suhø,’ he pressed again.

‘You shouldn’t be so fond of your little toy, you know,’ Chën piped up, cracking his knuckles theatrically.

‘Just lay a finger on her,’ Baëkhyun growled in response, rays of red light escaping from his now tight fists.

‘Yah, we don’t have time for your bullshit,’ Suhø interrupted their bickering. ‘The sooner you get out, the sooner we’re done with her.’

Baëkhyun pursed his lips and gave him a curt nod. Not meeting your despairing eyes, he left you in the room. Alone. With these monsters.

‘Fucking finally,’ Kāi clapped excitedly. ‘Let’s get this show on the road!’

‘Sit her down in that chair,’ someone said and you were pushed down forcefully.

The men started rearranging the room, moving laptops and phones and other stuff closer to you.

‘Hold her down, Sehūn,’ the leader ordered, then gave a nod to Chën.

You barely managed to sit still as he approached, even your knees shaking with panic.

‘What do you want from me?!’ You blurted.

‘Nothing much. We simply need your voice,’ Suhø shrugged and looked at another one of his accomplices. ‘Whenever you’re ready, Xiümin.’

Swallowing hard, you took in his words. You were the bait. To lure out the EXOs, perhaps? Or simply… Baekhyun?

Your heart faltered.

No, no, no. This was a trap, you should’ve known all along. Nevertheless, you allowed them to fool you, giving these men the leverage they needed. You weren’t going to make a sound! Anything to keep the boys away from trouble. Your mind was made up.

‘I have the line. But you have to catch his attention quickly, he’ll hang up fast if you don’t.’

‘No problem,’ the leader affirmed.

Xiümin nodded and used the keyboard to type something into a weird interface. Then turned the speaker on.

A ring sounded, then another one. You prayed that no answer would come, but after the third ring, the call was taken. For a long second, there was silence.

‘If you hang up, Y/N is going to die,’ Suhø began.

You blinked, feeling the angry tears form again, as you pursed your lips to keep your pitiful sobs in.

‘Talk,’ the speaker responded in what you realized was Minseok’s voice.

‘We have her now. At your old base. Come by sunrise if you want her alive,’ Suhø was concise in his demands. Minseok was silent for a few moments.

‘Why should we believe you? Let her talk if she’s there.’

Everyone turned to you, and you kept chewing on your lip.

‘You heard him.’ The leader referred to you, but you shook your head.

A brutal hand landed a slap across your face and then grabbed you by the hair.

‘Use your voice,’ it was Chën.

You only looked down at the greyish floor, not even blinking when you tasted blood.

‘Y/N, if you are really there, please say something,’ you jolted at the voice.

It was him. It was Baekhyun.

Breathing accelerating and heart racing, you couldn’t help the tears anymore. Wanting to scream and beg for him to come back for you, you kept shaking your head and refusing to make a sound.

‘I guess she’s not willing to make it easy on herself. Chën,’ Suhø tilted his head slightly, and you felt hands on you.

Sehūn had you in a headlock now, and Chën grabbed onto your arm with a cruel chuckle, jerking it so violently that you could not contain a wild yell. They let go of you, and you wailed, grabbing onto your numb lifeless limb in horror. You had never broken any bones, so you had no idea if he dislocated it, or fractured it, or worse. The pain was so immense that you couldn’t even register your name being called from the speaker.

‘By sunrise,’ Suhø reminded before they finished the call.

At that very moment, the door flew open.

‘What the fuck?!’ You heard Baëkhyun roar.

Red sparks fell around you as Chën was blasted away from you by a red ball of light.

His eyes were completely black, with red sparks – like those you witnessed attacking your abuser just now – floating angrily in there.

‘Stop this circus!’ Suhø raised his voice as Chën got up, something resembling little bolts of lightning appearing and disappearing around his forearms. ‘Stand down, the both of you. She was being stubborn, and we had to extract a reaction quickly. Your little human will be fine,’ he huffed, as if this was a normal course of action.

‘I’m taking her now,’ Baëkhyun answered firmly, stepping towards you.

‘Not so fast. She is to stay here until they arrive. As leverage.’ Suhø cleared his throat when their strategist wanted to protest. ‘You can keep watch over her yourself, in your room, or we can throw her in the dungeon downstairs and the boys will.’

‘She’ll stay with me,’ he gritted, helping you up gently not to disturb your hurting arm and walking you out of the room.

As soon as the door behind you slammed shut, he gathered you into his arms to carry you to the next destination. You didn’t try to resist, legs too wobbly to walk anyways, so you just cradled your arm and sniffled, at first not even noticing the room he took you in was quite familiar, as Baekhyun used to stay in it.

Baekhyun.

You sobbed, replaying his voice in your mind. The way he said your name, and how he pushed for you to let him know if you were there, if you were in danger… The stinging in your chest reignited because now he was going to walk right into this ambush because of you. Beginning to cry even harder, you forgot about your damaged arm, and the hurt, and the person who sat you down on the bed and kneeled in front of you.

‘It shouldn’t have been like this, Y/N. They wouldn’t have hurt you-’ He began, touching your hand.

‘Stop it!’ You slapped him in the face angrily. ‘You played with my feelings all this time, and now you’re just using me to hurt people I care about. Do you expect me to believe that you meant no harm? I hate you, Baëkhyun!’

‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered before raising his voice too. ‘But you shouldn’t have been stubborn! Why didn’t you just speak up?’

‘You really don’t understand?’ You asked in awe of his question. ‘You would if you ever loved anyone.’

‘So,’ he looked down at your lap, nudging his cheek with his tongue. ‘Is it Baekhyun? It’s because you still… love him?’

‘Why does it matter? I’m sure you guys, whoever you are, didn’t invite them here to have tea. What are you planning to do with them anyway? Is it about the Red?’

His eyes shot up to yours.

‘You know about the Red Force? He’s seriously dumb – telling you about them and leaving the clone part out!’

‘Yeah, and you’re so smart. Fooled a clueless girl with your great strategizing, well-fucking-done!’ Your words had plenty of bite, and Baëkhyun reacted.

‘Damn right! The only thing I didn’t do well to keep you safe is leaving your stubborn ass in the room with my crew, and it’s still so much better than the initial plan the Red had for you! I’ve kept you alive this long, haven’t I?’ He snapped at you, and you scoffed.

‘The only thing you didn’t- My arm was nearly ripped off, and it hurts like a motherfucker!’

‘Oh, does it now?’ He mocked, and you noticed how his fingers pressed onto certain spots of your arm, easing the pain significantly. ‘Chën could’ve done so much worse to you, Y/N. But this time he just used his knowledge of pressure points responsible for acute pain. And some of his power to shock you through them.’

He removed his fingers and you felt the pain subside, becoming almost irrelevant and foggy.

‘What- So it’s fine? My arm is fine?’ You asked, rubbing it in shock.

‘You’re fine,’ he breathed out, looking away.

For a while, you just sat like that, in complete silence.

‘Baëkhyun,’ you called, voice hoarse from all the crying. ‘Are you- going to kill them?’

He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, thinking your question over.

‘I don’t know. The plan is to capture and hand them over to the Red. There’s no telling what they’ll do to them this time.’

‘Shit,’ you swore, hiding your face in your palms. ‘This is all my fault.’

‘It isn’t. We were on their tail for a while, you just became our bargaining chip.’

Huffing, you hit the mattress with an open palm in a fit of annoyance.

‘Had I not trusted you so stupidly, this wouldn’t have happened!’

‘Oh, birdie,’ he tilted his head to the side, as if talking to a capricious child. ‘The way we met… sparked my interest. And when it was discovered that you used to be… his girlfriend,’ he paused. ‘Suhø wasn’t kidding – the Red suggested that we torture you. But I came up with a different plan, because I-,’ he looked away as if he struggled to continue. ‘I didn’t want them to hurt you.’

The way he stuttered drew your attention. But you weren’t willing to let him in again. Not about to make the same mistake twice. Instead, you kept questioning him.

‘Did you find ways to contact them through me, too?’

Baëkhyun nodded, and you gave him an expectant look. He sighed and elaborated.

‘The strawberry necklace. You told me it was from someone important to you, so I assumed it was Baekhyun, especially since he likes the damn thing. Checked it out when you were asleep because I know what I would’ve done.’

You were still confused as to what he meant.

‘He was tracking you live, so we managed to hack into it and trace the line back to a burner phone. We could not access the location without establishing a direct connection, but we got the number.’

‘I just gave you this one,’ you chuckled bitterly, and his blue eyes dropped to your knees again. ‘And now we’re freaking doomed.’

He shook his head to this. ‘I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I promise I’ll keep you safe.’

‘You think that’s what I want?! When the person I love gets murdered or worse, all thanks to-’

‘Stop saying that!’ He raised his voice again, hitting the mattress with a fist, red sparks flying everywhere without hurting you. ‘Why do you love him all that much? Didn’t he leave you?’

‘He’s walking into a trap to save me. And he’s a strategist like you, he clearly knows the odds. Are you really asking me why?’

Baëkhyun stared at you, chest heaving, and nostrils flared. It seemed like he wanted to argue, tell you that you were wrong. But instead, he looked away. His voice sounded hollow when he spoke again, eyes a dim shade of blue.

‘Get some rest. Tomorrow’s gonna be a tough day.’

Lying in bed wide awake most of the night, you prayed for a miracle that would somehow save your EXO boys.

>> Chapter 4 [fin]

A/N: Meet X-EXO ✨ So... What do you think of Baёk at this point? Is he a bad guy or worse? Is Y/N going to make it? Just one chapter left, we’re almost there!! Let’s hope that EXO show up on time yes I'm evil

#baekhyun smut #byun baekhyun smut #exowritersnet #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #icequeenbae fics #Desert Flower #exo smut #baekhyun #x exo #baekbaёk #baekhyun scenario

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lesmond-sycamore · 3 years

Text

Scavenger Hunts

Words: 1971

ao3 link Summary: Ivor, Harper, Jack, and Nurm have been given scavenger hunt lists by Petra and Jesse, but why? Notes: LOOK I KNOW IT'S PAST 12 AM BUT IT'S TECHNICALLY 10 PM PACIFIC TIME. I HAD WORK. Anyways, enjoy!

“You know, I’m starting to get tired of this wild fox chase.” Jack groaned as he fumbled with the piece of paper that would lead him to a “secret prize, in three weeks (which was, of course, today) only” as stated by Petra in her correspondence a few weeks prior. Nurm hummed lazily in response as he continued to mark locations on his map, unaffected by the stress of figuring out the answers to the clues to the scavenger hunt Petra had created for the two. Jack sighed, “I know, I know, but it’s been months since the last time we’ve seen her, Nurmie. I’m just- I don’t know. I know I shouldn’t be worried about her, but you how I am. I miss her, we haven’t gotten to see her all day because of this stupid scavenger hunt, and I have no clue when’s the next time she’ll be in town, an-” Nurm grumbled at Jack, indicating that he needed to just calm down for a second. Jack sighed once again to calm down his nerves. He might’ve been overreacting a bit.

Jack glanced at the pumpkin and enderpearl he had already gathered. “I just don’t see the point of this. Petra’s never done anything like this before. Why today? Do you think they found something while they were out adventuring and wanted to create hype to impress us?” Jack paused, then smiled fondly at the thought. “Doesn’t she know we’re already proud of her?”

Nurm hummed in agreement, Of course she does. She might just want to shake things up, although I will say that today-, Nurm trailed off. Jack stared at his husband for a moment, waiting for him to continue, but when he went back to studying his map of Beacontown, Jack realized he had no intention of picking up where he left off. Was today special?

=========================================================================

“Ivor, seriously? You haven’t seen Jesse in months and you’re going to go dressed like you robbed a zombie villager?” Haper asked a very, very frantic Ivor who was currently wearing nothing but a (well-loved) bathrobe and hopping on one leg as he struggled to put on his shoe.

Ivor finished putting on his shoe and glanced down to his attire. “What? Both of you have already seen me in my underwear! I don’t think my bathrobe’s going to kill them considering how everything… and everyone… that’s already tried has failed. Including me. Twice.”

“Still. We have to go into town to do this… scavenger hunt? What’s that all about?” Harper asked, pulling a quill out from behind her ear in preparation, studying the list in front of her. “What the heck is a ‘block of a cheated deal?’ Does that mean anything to you?” she asked as she scrunched her face in confusion.

Ivor hummed in concentration as he collected his potions (you could never be too careful) as he mulled over the question. He planted a quick peck on Harper’s cheek as he began to walk towards the door. “I think I have an idea of what that means,” he stated with a wink as he made his way out the door, ready to solve the puzzle he had been presented.

“But you apparently still have no idea how to dress. Change into something decent if you’re going to been perceived by strangers, love,” Harper punctuated with a face palm, failing to hide the smile creeping on her lips.

=========================================================================

“Looks like we’ve got most of the items, Nurmie. I hate to say it, but I think I’m actually pretty good at this. Looks like my adventurer’s intuition still runs in my veins. That or I’m still plain awesome,” Jack boasted as they made their back to Jack and Nurm’s Adventure Emporium to have a quick break and focus on the last item on the list, items in hand. “Although… I still don’t know what we’re supposed to do with all of these things.” Jack glanced over each item: an enderpearl, a stack of snowballs, a few baked potatoes, a sponge, a couple of pieces of zombie flesh, and a pumpkin. He hoped the quantities didn’t matter too much, because he lost all of his enderpearls when his shop was ransacked during Romeo’s reign in Beacontown and the price of a stack was not cheap.

Nurm rolled his eyes at his husband’s gloating. Jack playfully nudged the cartographer in the arm and scoffed in fake offense. Jack continued to walk and study the items he was currently carrying until he realized that the villager’s footsteps had ceased. Jack turned his head to look at Nurm with confusion at the random stop, until Nurm spoke. Jack, is that…? The villager gestured in front of them and tilted his head. Jack followed his gaze to find… Ivor and Harper outside the Adventure Emporium. What were they doing here?

=========================================================================

“Ivor! Harper! Hey!” someone shouted to the couple. The two spun around to find… Jack and Nurm! Perfect timing! The retired adventurer jogged up to the two and shook their hands in greeting.

“Jack, it’s been forever!” Ivor exclaimed. “How’s Petra? I know she and Jesse are supposed to be in town today.”

Jack sighed and shook his head. “We haven’t seen her at all today. She gave us this list of items that we’ve had to find, but we’re confused on what the last one means. How’s Jesse?” “I’m afraid we’re in a similar situation ourselves,” Harper stated plainly. “We’re almost done, though. It’s weird, all of these items are so… seemingly unrelated. Do you think they have any connection?” She nodded down at her own items: a block of redstone, an assortment of stained glass, an iron axe, a block of lapis, a few fireworks, and some soul sand. “We had to solve a bunch of crazy riddles to find the items we were looking for.”

“Sounds exactly like we were doing,” Jack stated as he showed the other couple his own items. “Did Jesse put you up to this?”

Ivor studied the items in Jack’s hands for a moment and then flicked his eyes up to meet Jack’s. “Yes, that’s correct. I’m assuming Petra did the same to you?”

“Correct you are, my friend.” Jack answered. He put the items back in his inventory before gesturing to the two of them and then to the building. “I see that you’re standing outside our shop. Is there something you need?” he inquired.

Harper spoke up. “There is, actually. I’m not well-versed in anything non-mesa related, and Ivor thinks the final clue has something to do with adventuring. Do you know what item the clue ‘the big finale let you soar’ is hinting at?”

Jack grinned. “I think I have an idea.”

=========================================================================

“I appreciate your help very much, Jack,” Harper thanked the retired adventurer as he handed her the second-to-last item on her and Ivor’s list: the elytra Jesse used to fly to the tower from the Admin episode.

“It's no problem. Now if only Petra could tell us what our last clue means. Nurm and I have been trying for the past few hours to crack it, to no avail,” Jack admitted with a defeated tone.

“What is it? We might be able to help. Actually, we've been scratching our darn heads at our own final clue. I don't have the slightest idea what ‘where it all began’ could be in reference to.”

“Ours is similar. ‘The first unhelping hand?’”

Ivor crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought, lightly tapping his foot and humming. Nurm did the same, and slightly bit his lip. Harper chose to unconsciously chew on her quill, resulting in her gagging slightly when she got a mouthful of feather instead of the wood of her normal pencil and blushing, hoping no one else saw her do it. Jack opted to spread both lists and all items out on a nearby table and study them intently.

After a few minutes of silence, Nurm chirped and all eyes fell on him. Jack listened intently to what he had to say. Jack, think about our adventure all those months ago and look at the items we've gotten so far. Do you see a coincidence?

Jack glanced at the items and the lists. “Yeah... yeah! The sponge for the Sea Temple, the snowballs for the Icy Palace of Doom, the zombie flesh for the Sunshine institute, I think the pumpkin is for the golems everywhere, the enderpearl for the giant enderman, and the potatoes for that stupid password! Ugh, I cannot believe it took me this long to realize what they had in common. Harper, Ivor, are your items similar?”

Ivor dashed over to the table “Why yes! Of course! How could I have been so blind? These items line up perfectly with the many adventure I had with Jesse! Could this mean...?” Everyone watches Ivor study he and Harper’s list in anticipation. “I think I know what ‘where it all began’ is! The ender dragon egg! Without that, I would have never created the Witherstorm, and Jesse would've never saved the world and I would’ve never gone on those many adventures!”

“And I would still be in Crown Mesa, trying to avoid being chipped,” Harper commented with a sad tone in her voice.

Ivor nodded. “And I would’ve never…” he trailed off, eyes finding the floor the most interesting place to look at at the moment.

Jack gave an acknowledging grunt and closed his eyes “In that case, do you think that ‘unhelping hand’ could be the Ad- Romeo’s gauntlet Jesse found that made them and Petra seek us out in the first place?” Nurm nodded in agreement. Jack opened his eyes and grinned. “Well, I think we all know where those two items are.”

Everyone looked between each other and then spoke in unison. “The Order Hall.”

=========================================================================

“What happened to all the darn lights in this place? I thought this place was supposed to be ninety-percent windows? I’m not going crazy, right?... right?” Harper asked as the group walked inside the Order Hall, treading carefully in the unusual darkness that was only broken by the light cast through the open door.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been here, Harper. Radar was left in charge after Jesse took off too seek out adventure with Petra and that llama. Maybe the man just has… peculiar taste. I did build my lab inside the Farlands myself, you know,” Ivor commented.

The group continued to trudge quietly through the Order Hall, careful not to trip over anything or anyone. After a few steps, the group heard a click, and Ivor, Harper, and Jack each drew their swords they carried for protection. Jack spoke up in a whisper “Quickly, get behind me” and the rest followed the instruction as best they could.

Everyone tensed, their breaths held, frantically glancing around the room, searching for any signs of life. It felt like an eternity, but only a few seconds after the click, the sounds of retracting pistons could be heard all around the four. Jack shuffled, preparing himself for any potential attacks, survival instincts kicking in action, ready to do what it took to protect his friends and husband, he-

The pistons finished retracting, leaving the Order Hall basked in the evening sky’s light. All four members of the group blinked at the brightness, adjusting their eyes. Once they could see again, their sight was filled with a few things: Jesse holding the ender dragon’s egg, Petra holding the Sea Temple gauntlet, a giant table full of food between the two New Order members, and Lluna in an (admittedly adorable) chef hat behind the table. Ivor, Harper, Jack, and Nurm stood in stunned confusion, until Petra and Jesse broke the silence with giant grins on their faces.

“Happy Father’s Day!”

#mcsm #my fics #jack mcsm #nurm mcsm #harper mcsm #ivor mcsm #petra mcsm #jesse mcsm #lluna mcsm #father's day #father's day tw

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backtobackbakubabe · 4 years

Text

I am the Alpha Now Part 10

Bakugo X Reader

Words : 2559

Masterlist

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically

*****************************************************************************************************

“Focus! Look him in eye and focus your thoughts towards him. Think in his direction.”

“What the fuck does that even mean? Think in his direction?! That makes no fucking sense!”

You and Bakugo had been working for almost an hour now to see if he could talk to Mercy. It was something you did almost every night right before you went to bed. He’s been slowly bonding with you over the course of the last week. The emotional thing you had down, much to his annoyance. Until now he had been very good at hiding his emotions, but that wasn’t even possible anymore.

Just this morning he had threatened to spank you if you didn’t get your ass out of bed. But just one peek into the bond and you could tell he didn’t mean it. In fact, you could feel his longing to join you. So instead of doing as he asked, you reached out and pulled him down to your level and begged him for ten more minutes.

He had groaned and rolled his eyes before wrapping a reluctant arm around you and pulling you to him. He wanted to be annoyed, but you could feel the love and comfort radiating from him. He wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you had once thought.

This brings you back to tonight. You sat there in one of his t-shirts laying between his legs with your head on his shoulder as he sat on the edge of the bed staring at Mercy. You could feel the determination quickly followed by disappointment. “Hey babe it’s okay, it’ll come. It took us a loooooong time before we could speak to each other.”

He threw his body back onto the bed in frustration, “Yeah, but you also had to basically teach him English from scratch.”

You shrugged, “It’ll come to you eventually. Just keep practicing. You’ve got the emotional and physical part down.”

The bond goes both ways… which means he felt the spike in your emotions when you said “physical” He sat up and his hand quickly found your hip, “Oh I know I got the physical part down… I know if I put my hand here…” He moved his hand closer to your inner thigh. “…you heart rate begins to pick up. But if I put it here…” He moved it cup your boob. “You start to melt into my hands like putty.” He kissed your neck as he moved to pinch one of your nipples between his fingers. Your back arched as you bit your lip, “But this…. This is the quickest way to make you lose your mind.”

You had started to reach for pants when he flipped you both over, so you were now on your stomach with him on your back. “It’s so much better when I can feel how excited you are. It’s like you were literally the missing puzzle piece from my life.” He leaned back to take his shirt off, “I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you… or this bond.”

You wiggled your ass underneath him, “Awww are you saying I complete you?”

His only response to that was a quick slap to the ass, but you could feel his amusement through the bond. He started to slowly drag your underwear down when Mercy yelped, “PLEASE STOP!”

You groaned as you tapped out, letting Bakugo know you needed to get up.

Confused and a little concerned he let you up, “Shit I didn’t slap you that hard, did I? I didn’t feel any unusual pain in the bond?”

You put a hand on his chest to reassure him, “No it’s Mercy. We need to let him out if we’re going to you know… be physical.”

His eyes widened in understanding, “Oh shit... yeah… duh. Okay hold on I’ll let him out really quick.”

He walked across your room without a shirt on to let Mercy out while you remained sitting on the bed in nothing but one of his t-shirts. Right as he reached the door your wolf senses picked up footsteps outside in the hallway right outside your room, “Bakugo WA-“

He threw the door open before you could finish and was met with a characteristically bored looking Aizawa. You scrambled to cover yourself with a blanket “Hmmm I figured I’d find you here… It’s well past curfew…”

Bakugo bowed, “Yes sir, My apologies… it was my fault… uh you see…”

Aizawa just raised his hand to cut him off, “A quick reminder that Y/n is here on a probationary basis. She was sent here to straighten out her attitude and get her act together. Your job is supposed to be helping her get her life together…” He glanced at Bakugo’s shitless chest in front of him, “I can tell the two of you have become… close. But you only have a few months before graduation… then you can do whatever the hell you want. But until then, can you at least try to pretend to follow the rules.”

Bakugo nodded, “Yes sir, my apologies again sir. I was just about to take Mercy for a quick run if that is okay?”

Aizawa looked at Mercy was wagging his tail next to Bakugo, “Make it a leisurely walk and how about I join you… for safety reasons.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, “No offense sir, but I think I can handle a quick walk around campus by myself…”

Aizawa smiled, “I’m sure you could, but then how would we continue our conversation about rule breaking?”

Bakugo grunted as he grabbed the jacket he had left hanging by the door, “I’ll bring him right back y/n, get some sleep. Come on Mercy lets go.”

You just silently nodded as the door slammed behind him… “Shit…”

“Mercy, is it okay of I watch and listen to their conversation though you?”

“UGH! But I actually wanted to run!”

You rolled your eyes even though no one was around to see it, “Oh don’t lie. I know you’re just as nosy as I am!”

“And your point?”

“My point is I’ll run with you tomorrow AND I’ll make Bakugo cook you a giant steak for dinner…”

“DEAL!”

You tuned into Mercy senses and saw Aizawa and Bakugo walking right in front of you or rather right in front of Mercy.

“Bakugo I need you to understand something. When I say I can see you two getting close, I mean that quite literally. My quirk allows me to see and turn off other quirks. When I see you two especially when you are close, I can see this weird aura. It used to just be y/n and Mercy, but it’s now consumed you too.” He stopped to see the tips of Bakugo’s ear turning pink, “Now I’m no idiot. I think I’ve put two and two together. It has something to do with her alpha quirk doesn’t it?”

Bakugo rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah… It’s hard to explain though. I just… clicked with her or something and now I’m a part of her pack. Me her and Mercy.” He glanced down and gave Mercy a pat on the head.

Aizawa nodded, “I have to admit I think it has had an impact on you both and probably for the better. You give her structure and dedication. She gives you empathy and compassion. It’s evident you are good for each other… I just need you to be careful.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, “Careful? Careful of what?”

Aizawa sighed as he stopped walking, “I just worry you might grow too attached to her, but I’m now beginning to think you already have.”

“Tch, what’s that supposed to mean? I obviously love her, why would getting attached to her be a bad thing? You just said we were good for each other?”

“Well she is from America and you live here. Have you discussed what you want to do after graduation? Will she move here? Will you move there? Will you… part ways?”

Mercy whined at the thought of the new member of his pack leaving them. You felt your heart break a little at the thought as well.

Bakugo leaned down and got on Mercy’s level. “Hey now stop crying, that’s not going to happen.” He kissed Mercy’s forehead and whispered, “I told you to go to bed…”

He must have felt your panic and knew you were listening. “We haven’t talked about it yet… but with all due respect that’s a conversation that will be between us. That’s our private life you know?”

Aizawa nodded and ran his hand through his hair, “I understand but please just try to be careful. I see how attached you already. It’s like you’re addicted to her presence, to her happiness. I can see that you get visibly uncomfortable when she’s not close by and I fear the day you might… well for lack of a better words… go through withdrawal. It’s like she’s a drug to you.”

Bakugo tensed up, “Look… like I said before it’s our private life…but…” He took a look at Mercy, probably debating saying anything knowing that I was listening. “I do feel this pull to her. She is quite literally the center of my universe… but you know what. I don’t care. She’ll be the first to tell you who wears the pants in the relationship… and that’s neither of us. We have a deep respect for each other. We listen, we care, we communicate. I take care of her just as much as she takes care of me. She might have an alpha quirk, but I’m not her bitch.”

Aizawa’s eyes widened, “Bakugo you misunderstand me. I didn’t mean to insinuate that she was controlling you, I just didn’t want to see you guys get hurt.”

Bakugo was starting to get mad now, “Well we’re not! Okay! I can’t explain it, but this connection we have… it’s permanent. It’s not going anywhere!”

Aizawa almost looked sad, “Okay… but how do you know?”

You could feel your anger (or possibly Bakugo’s) boiling over and you just wanted to hit something. “BECAUSE WE FUCKING DO! FUCK OFF!”

Bakugo snorted and then bit his lip. He looked to Mercy, “Your mother has a potty mouth.” He looked at a confused Aizawa and without explaining himself at all he turned to head back to the dorms, “Come on Mercy, you know y/n can’t sleep without you, and she seems a little restless right now.”

Aizawa called out after him, “Last night I’m allowing you to get away with this, next time it’s detention do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah whatever… like you said it’s only for a few more months anyways. We’ll survive.”

You could hear Bakugo’s footsteps approaching the door and you tried to pretend like you had been asleep.

“OI! Don’t even fucking try. I know you were listening the entire time. Not only could I feel you, but I fucking heard you! How did you do that! It was so fucking weird, it’s like I could hear you, but your voice was a little different. It had more of an echo or something and… oi are you even listening?” He threw a pillow at your still “sleeping” figure.

You fake yawned and stretched, “Oh hi Bakugo. Back from your walk already?”

He tackled you to the bed, “You’re such a brat!”

You giggled as you kissed his cheek, “Ah yes, but I’m your brat.”

He settled into bed next to you and kissed your forehead, “How I got stuck with you I have no idea.” He ran his fingers through your hair, “But I’m glad I did… now can we please talk about earlier?”

You sighed, “About what in particular?”

“Well for one I know you were listening. Your emotions were all over the place…”

You shrugged, “I was watching Gilmoe Girls… gets me every time.”

He swatted at your ass, “Come on pup be serious. I really want to talk about it. Do you have plans after graduation?”

You snuggled deeper into him, “I mean not really… I had thought I’d go back to America and get a job there doing private security.”

“You could always do that here instead though. There’s tons of jobs here especially for graduates of UA.”

You bit your lip, “I don’t know. I mean going to school here is hard enough. I still feel like my Japanese sucks, and you already know English…”

“Your Japanese gets better every day! I can practice with you more if you think it’ll help!”

“I just... I don’t know right this moment. And that’s okay right? I mean we have a few months, right?”

He ran a hand through his hair, “Yeah I guess... but y/n, I need you to know. I can’t see myself leaving Japan. My only goal for the past few years has been to be Japans number one hero. It would be kind of hard to do that from America.”

Your eyes lit up, “Talk to All Might! He did a few years in America and he became the number one hero! Just ask him about it!”

He could feel how worked up you were getting so he gave your forehead another kiss, “Okay, okay, I’ll talk to him… on to the next thing… I heard you in my head… how?”

You shook your head, “I honestly don’t know. I said it like I would normally talk to Mercy, but I didn’t direct it at Mercy. I was surprised you heard it. I was also extra emotional though.”

“Tch. I heard it alright. If I wasn’t so caught off guard, I would have laughed my ass off.”

“Do you think he meant it when he said tonight was the last night you could sleep here? I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“WHAT AM I CHOPPED LIVER!” Mercy was now in the bed trying to get in between you two.

“Oi! I Herd that! Mercy say something else!”

“Something else!”

“Just as sassy as I thought you’d be, but I kind of imagined you’re voice to be… I don’t know softer. You actually sound kind of like a boss.”

“Yes, that would be because I am a boss. You may be in this pack now but respect the food chain asshole!”

Bakugo looked at you, “You gonna let him talk to me that way?”

You just shrugged, “I mean he has a point. He was here first.”

He pushed Mercy out of the way and bearhugged you, “No, no, no, no, we agreed at the tea shop! I am the alpha now remember?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, “Whatever helps you sleep at night babe.”

Mercy started growling from where Bakugo had pushed him, “I’ll help you sleep alright, by putting you in a coma! HOW DARE YOU PUSH ME OUT OF MY OWN BED!”

The rest of the night was filled with wrestling and your boys fighting and joking. Despite his attitude you could tell Mercy was ecstatic to have a new friend to talk to. You watched as they rolled around on the floor and your heart swelled with love. Bakugo paused for and looked over to you when he felt it. He made eye contact and with all his will power he managed to say “I love you too…”

******************************************

Tags : @tspice283 , @realityisoftendisapointing , @imbi-101 , @thoughtfulpandazine2 , @hotarumorikawa , @huh-iwasntpayingattention , @starfishlovingbnha , @weebnumber3622 , @mixedfeeelings , @munchmunch01 , @inumorph

#bakugo katsuki #bakugo #Katsuki Bakugō #bhna bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo imagine #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #mha #mha imagines #mha bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #my hero academia #Alpha #i am the alpha now

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chaotic-noceur · 4 years

Text

but your lies were so sweet

[ day 6 | angstageddon masterlist ]

pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x reader

summary: In his time with Statesman, Jack has gone by many names. In your experience, they were all just aliases for the same liar.

warnings: false identities, lying, no fluff all angst

credits: shout out to my loves @din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm for beta reading and nudging me back into writing this! Also, some inspiration was taken from Headspace by Lewis Capaldi.

a/n: ahhh we’re almost at the end of this week of pain 😭To those of you who have been reading these every day, I applaud you for sticking with us through it all, and thank you for all the love and support! To those of you who have just found this, welcome to the angst! Once again, i apologise for the pain but this ones pretty gentle considering Javi’s....

gif by @ithinkwehitametaphor

“Just tell me why!” you begged, grabbing his hand harshly. “I just want to know why Alex.” He tugs his arm free from your grasp as he spins round to meet your gaze. “Just tell me that and I’ll-” you swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat, “tell me why and I’ll let you go.” He clenches his jaw.

He hadn’t meant for it to go this far, hadn’t meant to hurt you. But one thing had led to another and before he knew it… he’d found himself living the life that he had always wanted. Except it wasn’t real. It wasn’t really his. Worst of all, he’d dragged you so far into his fantasy that you were bound to get caught in the crossfire when it inevitably came crashing down around him.

“Look, sweetheart,” his shoulders drop with a sigh. “There’s something you should know.” His voice is hushed, tired. You fold your arms in an attempt to not lose your patience. “That night you and I met? That wasn’t any mistake.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” you take a step towards him and he eyes the closing of space between you. You ignore the frown forming on his face. “It’s like the stars had aligned and you waltzed into my life and I was falling for you befor-”

“No, sweetheart. You’re not hearing me.” His duffle bag falls onto the floor with a loud thump as he grasps you by the shoulders. “Our ‘accidental meeting’ was no accident.”

“Wha-”

“The night we met, the thoughtful dates, the entirety of our relationship-” he lets go of you to wave his arm out for emphasis, “it was all one big set up t’ get you t’ fall for me. It ain’t nothing personal darlin’,” he shrugs cooly, “it’s just the job.”

The nonchalant tone in his voice makes your blood boil and you clench your fists at your sides. “What are you talking about?”

He deliberates keeping the act up, or spinning up a new lie. Either way, the damage has been done. But the dejected look on your face, the innocent glimmer in your eyes… it stirs something in him that he doesn’t want to address. Not now. Not while he had a mission to complete.

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest that urges him to tell you the truth. To give you some semblance of closure. You deserved that much.

He sighs before he speaks. “My name isn’t Alex, it’s Jack.” He watches as confusion blooms across your features. “Now I can’t in good faith tell you what it is I do for a living but I sure as hell ain’t no pilot. I don’t li-”

“No.” You bring a hand up to stop him as the pieces of the puzzle start falling into place. “You told me- you- you were so-” you shake your head in disbelief as you stumble back, strings of mumbled ‘no’s falling from your lips. Your hand clutches the door handle for support. He watches as you inhale shallow breaths, your eyes darting across the floor.

“I thought you loved me,” you whisper finally. He would’ve missed it had he not been paying you so much attention.

“I only told you what you wanted to hear darlin’.” The weight of his words crash into you with full force and you struggle to breathe. You clutch a hand to your chest, clawing at the invisible knife that’s stabbing at your heart. “You don’t know anything about me, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!” You throw yourself at him and shove him hard. He stumbles into the hallway until his back hits the wall. “You have no right to call me that!” You sneer. Turning away from him, you shake your head in disgust. You pace across the walkway as you compose your thoughts.

Eventually, you stop in front of your open door as you turn your head to look at him. When you speak, there’s a calmness to your voice that makes his stomach lurch in disgust. “You talked about wanting a love that lasts. A love so strong that you would do anything to keep it but you know what?” You raise your eyebrow at him tauntingly. “A man like you?” You scoff. “You’ll never be worthy of a love like that.”

You step over his discarded duffle bag before slamming the door shut behind you. Tears well in your eyes as you lean your back against the stained wood. Your shoulders drop in defeat as you slide to the ground, silent sobs wracking through your body. You’d fallen for the ghost of a man, a creation of your imagination—of his. But why did the pain feel so real?

Through clouded eyes, the photo frame sitting on your shared bookshelf catches your attention and something in you snaps.

You storm across the room and hurl the offensive object at the wall. The shattering of glass rings out in your ears but it’s not enough to drown out the pain in your chest. Your glare fixes onto the collection of books the pair of you had started and you grit your teeth at the sight. Angry sobs echo across your empty apartment as you yank books of the shelf.

You want every trace of him gone.

●●●●

When Jack gets back to headquarters, he’s greeted with proud smiles and shoulder clasps. Champagne gives his usual debriefing speech but Jack can’t stop your words from echoing through his mind.

You’ll never be worthy of a love like that.

Deep down, he understands that they were words said out of anger. He wants to believe that you didn’t mean them. But a small part of him can’t help but wonder… maybe you were right. No matter what he did, he never seems to be able to save the people he loved from getting hurt.

The truth is, he’d never meant to fall for you or to have his affections returned. But the longer his little charade went on, the more he felt himself losing himself in the make believe of it all. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed the feeling of redamancy until you started loving him back.

The thrill that had shot through his body with every gentle touch you gave him. The warmth that filled his chest with every smile you sent his way. It felt like the first balmy sunbeams of spring thawing the frozen ground after a long, icy winter. He had relished in the feeling - the relief of knowing he hadn’t gone completely numb to all emotion. He got so caught up in the bliss that he almost forgot about the hurricane of deceit that loomed over his head, threatening to make landfall at any moment.

●●●●

Years later, when his muscles are stiff and his mind heavy with the burden of past missions, he’s finally ready to surrender his code name. He’s helped bring down countless criminal organisations and he was done. He was tired of the continual fighting; tired of the secrets and lies.

He loved his job, don’t get him wrong. The Statesman gave him a home when his had been so cruelly stolen from him. They gave him a purpose when he felt nothing more than blind rage.

But he never quite managed to quench the tiny fragment of him that longed for a normal life. A life free from the looming threat of violence and death. A life where he has a local bar & grill and they know his order off by heart. He always wondered what his happily ever after looked like. He hopes he still has the chance to find out.

The months with you feel like a distant memory now, but the emotions remain. At times, he thinks he sees your face amongst a sea of strangers. He thinks he hears your voice, lulling him to the land of dreams. He thinks he remembers the taste of your lips against his, but he can’t be sure.

●●●●

Glancing to the numbers by the door as he crumples the sheet of paper in his grip. He straightens the leather jacket before delivering three firm knocks against the door. The silence that he’s met with allows for the doubt to sink in.

Did you even want to see him? What could he possibly say to you to make up for the hurt? What if you’ve moved on? What if this just stands to cause you more pain? What if you hate him? You have every right to hate him. He hates himself for what he did to you.

A metallic clinking jolts him from his thoughts and he reaches instinctively for the ghost of his lasso as he turns. His breath hitches when his gaze falls on you. The expression you wear is somewhere between anger and hurt and he doesn’t know which one he hates more.

You stare at each other for a quiet moment before both attempting to speak at once. Your overlapping voices form an abrupt dissonance that startles even yourselves.

“I wanted to-”

“What are you-” He clears his throat awkwardly and you bring your arm up, gesturing for him to continue.

“I owe you a formal explanation,” he states. You scoff quietly. He owes you a lot more than that. “Perhaps we could talk in a more… private setting” He eyes the neighbouring doors suspiciously. A raised, unimpressed eyebrow is your only response. “The things I need to say… they aren’t for the public ear.” You roll your eyes at him. There was always some secret with him. When you fold your arms across your chest, he softens. “Please.”

A part of you hates him. It wants to scream and hurl insults at him until your throat is raw. But a bigger part of you needs to know why he had left. What he’d meant when he said it was ‘just the job’. Why he’d lied to you the whole time.

There’s a slight downturn in his lips that makes the rope around your heart tighten its grip and you want nothing more than to cut yourself free. But there’s a sliver of vulnerability in his eyes that makes it difficult to hold your anger.

With a sigh, you pick your dropped keys off the floor, step around him and key the door open with more force than necessary. You hold it open for him before leaning against the other side.

Jack looks around awkwardly as he takes in the signs of you that are scattered throughout the space. He notes the distinctive lack of him. All remnants of him had been wiped clean. Although, he supposes they weren’t really parts of him to begin with. They were parts of the man he wanted to be. The man he will never be.

The sound of you clearing your throat jolts him from his spiralling thoughts. There’s a fire in your eyes that wasn’t there before and he shrinks back slightly, feeling painfully out of place. He can’t recall the last time he was this nervous and he shifts his weight uncomfortably. You drum your fingers impatiently across your folded arm and he inhales deeply before beginning. Come hell or high water, there was no going back now.

“M’ real name is Jack, Jack Daniels.” The drumming stops. You stare at him, dumbfounded. An incredulous laugh threatens to leave your lips - he honestly expected you to believe that that is his name? But there’s no trace of humour in his eyes so you clamp your mouth shut. “I was an agent for a secret intelligence agency known as Statesman. Now, Alex was-” he pauses as he grapples for the right words, “a made-up persona, designed to capture your interest, so to speak.” You inhale sharply, though you hide it well. He continues. “You should know, it wasn’t you that we were after. Your friends were involved with some… suspicious people and we needed t-” you hold out a hand to stop him.

“What do you mean ‘suspicious’?” You push off the door to step toward him. “My friends aren’t criminals!” He holds his arms up in defence.

“No, they weren’t. But they were involved with some. It made them suspects. But you…” he looks to you for permission to proceed. You nod stiffly. “You were a tough nut t’ crack. Not even our finest agents could find a damn thing about you and that made you peculiar- an anomaly.” He tilts his head towards you as if congratulating you on a feat. His voice deepens when he says, “we don’t like anomalies,” and you scoff at the tone.

“So they sent you,” you sneered, failing to mask your appalled tone.

“There ain’t nothing better than live intel swe-” he stops himself short. He sees the way you start recoiling from him but he keeps going. “It wasn’t supposed to go as far as it had and I truly do apologise for fooling you but we had to know you weren’t a threat.”

Your heart hammers in your chest as the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place. Blank pieces start to fill themselves with vivid colours of truth. You were nothing but a pawn on a chessboard being manipulated. Your legs feel weak and you move to sit against the arm of the couch. He follows your movement, turning to you as you walk. There’s a distant look in your eyes and he gives you a moment for the words to sink in.

“While the night we met may have been a setup-” he takes a hesitant step towards you and your eyes snap up to meet his, “my feelings for you were not.” You narrow your eyes at him and he stops pacing. He observes the subtle clenching of your jaw and he decides to crack open the box that he’d buried a long time ago. He needs you to see there’s a real bleeding heart beneath the facade he’d been forced to weave for you.

“I lost someone very dear to me once, a long time ago.” His gaze dances between you and the objects in the room. “I never thought I’d find someone after her. But then you-“ He stops short. Sighs. Worries his lip between his teeth for a moment before speaking. This all seems so far-fetched now.

“You were never meant to get caught in the crossfire of all this.” His voice is but a whisper, like he was speaking a sacred confession. There’s a new note to his voice as his eyes flit back and forth between your own, as though studying them for any kind of reaction he could get. “I love you.”

The room falls silent. Jack swears he can hear the distant ticking on a clock from deeper within your home. His heart hammers in his chest, the resonant beating echoes into his ears.

Finally, you smile. “You wanna know something?” There’s a sinister tone lacing your voice and it sends a shiver down his spine. “I never thought that a lie could sound so sweet,” you chuckle lowly, “until you opened your mouth and said you loved me.”

Jack feels his stomach lurch in response to your words. He always wondered what his happily ever after looked like. He supposes he’ll never know.

——angstageddon tag list

@din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @hillarymurray4 @wille-zarr @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @cryptkeepersoul @agirllovespasta @wickedfrsgrl @dindisneydjarin @opheliaelysia @aeryntheofficial @adikaofmandalore @goldafterglow @yespolkadotkitty @chibi-liz05 @scarlettvonsass @rpcvliz @cinewhore @basura2319 @theravenreads @mxndoscyarika @jaime1110 @f0rever15elf @pancakepike @phoenixhalliwell @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @apunkpascal

#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #kingsman: the golden circle #angstageddon #kay writes

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Amphibia Reviews: The First Temple or Bessie and Joe: The New OTP

Hello all you happy people! Amphibia season 2 moves right a long and it’s time for some video game shenanigans as we enter The First Temple! Family drama, snail on bird action, and outhouses await you under the cut with a recap/review with full spoilers.

So we open with the Plantars having chocopillbug pancakes. Ironically my mom offered me chocolate chip pancakes after this and thank god for that. This is a rare treat to the point Anne didn’t even know they had choclate, and is suprisingly not strangling Hop Pop over this. Unsuprisingly he broke out the good stuff to try and make up for hiding the box and things are still VERY awkward between the two, with Hop Pop walking on Egghshells around Anne and Anne doing the same when he brings it up with both desperatley trying to avoid the subject and Sprig not helping by bringing it up a bunch.

I like this a lot and didn’t really think about the series continuting any tension over his decision.. but should have. Partly because this is a modern animated show and most of this wonderful new wave of shows have a LOT of emotional nuance. ANd partly because this show dosen’t forget things even most nuanced shows forget: the fact the characters cause chaos and learn life lesons is outright RECOGNZIED by the show as a pattern and brought up quite often, as are the patterns that lead to it, like mostly being sprig and anne, anne’s impulsivness that sort of thing. It’s the kind of thing you just gloss over in most shows but this one lampshades to hell and back for funsies so when something THIS important happens, you’d better belivie it’s not just going to disappear.

The tensions thankfully broken by a new arrival, as a massive sparrow shows up in the yard. “It’s a giant bird with.. books on it’s back.. what. “ Great delivery from bill there. Naturally it’s Marcy!

I missed this little goober. Such a joy to be around, and she of course marvels over the Plantar’s house before getting back on track: She’s found the first temple.. even though she sent a letter saying that and it’s not commented on that she did. It set off the whole previous episode Marcy... you okay Mar-Mar?

That aside though it’s time for the first temple and Marcy asks for the Box, with Sprig trying to make a joke about how good thing she didn’t ask for it a week ago.

Polly rightly punches him in the ribs... do frogs have ribs? Hold on.. okay here we go

Huh.. so they do not You learn something new every day. Well lack of ribs or no our heroes are ready.. while Marcy’s sparrow Joe is also ready TO GET IT ON. Yes really, he does a mating dance for Bessie, complete with an intersumental version of “Sylvia” from last season. God damn that bird’s got game. The only time i’ve seen more game is THIS.

Marcy tells him to knock it off. Look marcy your a pet owner now and as a pet owner, it’s your responsiblity.. to let your giant bird do horrifying things with a slightly smaller but still giant snail. it’s what nature intended. Nature was doing a lot of cocaine that day but we still honor her wishes.

But anyways Marcy’s figure out something intresting about the box.. by winding it just right the gems pop out, which allows her to take one, we later find out it’s the green one, to use in the temple. So off we go with Marcy and the rest of the kids up top and Hop Pop.. screaming in Joe Sparrows claws. He’s fine.

So while they get ready, Anne worries about the amount of puzzles and hazzards Marcy’s hyping for this but Marcy shurgs it off and gives her own big boast about how may RTS she’s beaten.. suspciously like Yuaan as one post on here pointed out. Not a huge suprise though, to Marcy she’d just be the grand hero out of one of her rpg’s and not think of how many people she probably killed or who she’s working for.. though you’d THNK given all the RPG’s both tapetop and on her switch she’s played, that Marcy would see that “the benevolent king turns out to be the big bad” trope coming.

But Anne’s worry is not on the big bad of the show but on Marcy who has a tendency to get so in the zone she ignores the world around her, which goes from focusing on her game while helping anne get softserve leading to a mess, not letting Anne down in a play and.. Anne catching Marcy on tv as all the snakes escape from the zoo.

Regardless our heroes arrive and while the awkwardness between anne and hop pop continues, they find a majestic temple.. and what appears to be an outhouse. Hey we all gotta poop sometimes, even people making a majestic temple. If you don’t it comes out like this.

So they head in and we get our first puzzle, a mysterious cube that lifts you into the air and allows you to tilt the thing around.

Those of you wondering why I have such a strong reaction have ever never played breath of the wild or played it with a pro controller, i.e. NOT having to tilt the very thing your screen is on because Nintendo has failed to grasp that MAYBE people don’t like that, that it takes you out of the experince and that it’s really hard to focus on your screen while having to move the fucking system about. And the plantar’s getting horribly jostled around as she moves it is EXACTLY how it feels to play a puzzle requring that shit.

Next is a color based tile dungeon leftover from Link’s Awakening DX. As marcy figures out the reds do fire and the blues do crushing... but she reads the language (And as she put earlier “Guess who learned an entire dead language?” God she’s precious. ) and finds a green with envy pun (Which Hop Pop takes offense to.. several of his friends are green.). Which is curious as given several citzens of amphibia are green.. why would they make a green pun? So she gets on one tile and Hop Pop plans to take the risk of getting on the other green tile, but Anne does it instead.. and things get heated between the two as Anne reveals she no longe feels like family since he did what he did for polly and sprig and hop pop takes offense as she IS. Even if he screwed up with her. But Anne’s near death experince activates the tile.

The final challnge switches us from Zelda.. to Harry Freaking Potter.

Now I used to love Harry Potter, with all of my heart. Then JK Rowling turned out to be a transphobic piece of shit who thinks she’s an ally, but is really a bigot who wants to “accept” trans people without giving them any rights. So yeah while I still love the starkid musicals, ore more accuratley the music from them, and own a copy of lego harry potter I got as a gift recently as both parties had no idea she was a monster when this stuff was made. Still a sore subject though, but if I didn’t bring up the similiarties I wouldn’t be doing my job as a critic and this was likely thought up long before JK outed herself as well...

No no the great mighty poo respects all peoples.. and wants to take their heads and ram it up his butt. He’s an equal opportunity butt rammer.

Anyways this is the frog equivlent of chess flipfrog, and just like with Wizard chess, our heroes end up as the pieces minus marcy.. and in a nice twist on that scene, Anne ends up on the other side. Marcy is a grandmaster at it though so after an hour or so of play she almost wins.. only for the king equilvent to refuse to be taken and the automatic board she’s up against to send Anne against hop pop, and with our heroes magically restrained and given stone weapons, this can’t end well. Eventually though Anne’s forced to hit HOp Pop multiple times and while he says “well isn’t this what you wanted”, she says no.. she didn’t want to phsyically hurt him it’s just complicated. So we get one heck of an emotioinal scene as Hop Pop just wants to help and wants this to stop and dosen’t knoow how to fix this which as someone who desperatlyt ries to fix most emotional situations right away this hit very hard.. and her response of needing time hit harder. The two while not reconciled, ar ecloser to it and Marcy realizes what she’s done getting so obessed with winning and forfits for thier benifit. Our heroes leave, seemingly having lost.. only to find glowing arrows to the crap hole, which turns out to be the pedistal. The temple wasn’t just an intellegence test but empathy.. and the temples are clearly built to specifically test each of the chosen three, our heroines, specifically. Marcy’s tested her intellegence.. but also her willingness to let go of cold clyincal thought to do the right thing. That earns her her gem recharged and a flash in her eyes and her gem starts pointing to the next. She needs time to triangulate and hop pop and anne are back on workable footing... though our heroes offer to take a break instead of going to the next temple.

Back in Newtopia, Yuaan reports on the toads gathering.. but dosen’t get to mentioning sasha before Marcy’s letter interrupts and Andridas oddly and aburbly dimisses her.. and goes to talk to a watcher with a thousand eyes, his “master” who has plans to undo the prophcey and get their revenge.

Final Thoughts: This was a damn fine episode that gave Marcy some much needed character development, and gave the reveals of last episode some more emotiional fallout. It also had some really great jokes as always. Top notch stuf.

Next Time: Marcy tries to win everyone over through science and we FINALLY get an episode with the Frog Robot apparently. Horay

Next on this Blog: We go into final space yo! It’s unexpected births, ho yay, and horrifying zombie gary’s galore!

Until then if you liked this review, follow me for more, join my patreon, comission a review if you please and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. Play us out jeff... and I haven’t done THAT bit in a while but eh. This song was too perfect.

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#amphibia #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #the first temple #hopidah plantar #sprig plantar #polly planntar #king andrias #the watcher with a thousand eyes

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nekojitachan · 4 years

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Okay, so I think I’m going with ‘the real thing’ for a title. Subject to change of course. But as I sorta promised, more andreil soulmate not fic. Same warnings as before (mention of past abuse, referenced but not described/detailed sexual abuse, Andrew on meds so...).

Part four (previous part w/ links to the OTHER parts can be found here)

*******

Andrew was about to murder his new bestie; it had been three days since Moreau had all but promised to spill secrets, and if Andrew had to wait much longer? The backliner would be spilling blood instead.

Yes, among his various character foibles (he refused to see them as flaws, not matter what the shrinks rudely insisted) was his very low tolerance for patience when he felt that he was owed something. And he most definitely felt he was owed the truth about what was going on with Nathaniel.

Perhaps Moreau sensed his imminent bloodletting because he muttered ‘tomorrow’ to Andrew as they passed each other in the hall on Tuesday, which granted him a temporary stay of execution. Andrew grunted softly in acknowledgement, then knocked his shoulder into Bautista, who’d been staring a bit too long at Nathaniel.

The backliner glared at Andrew once he regained his footing, but all it took was Andrew ‘smiling’ at him and the older Raven averted his eyes and scurried away.

People were slowly getting the message that Nathaniel was off-limits.

Wednesday came and at first started off as a normal day; early as hell practice, Aaron being smug about getting a good grade on their biology test (Andrew kept his better grade to himself), barely staying awake in his classes, then back to the Nest for more stupid Exy practice. Except Riko and Kevin were gone, off to Detroit to play the next two nights for their professional team (who could keep them), which meant that Andrew just had to wait for Nathaniel to be pulled away, too. He gave Moreau a pointed look when they (and Nathaniel) went out onto court to play in a scrimmage, but the French bastard merely returned it with a blank expression.

Andrew may have aimed a ball or two at the bastard during the scrimmage.

He’d just settled on his bed with a new book to read (sent by Nicky) when his phone vibrated with a message from Moreau for him to come right then to the break room in the Black Hall. Part of Andrew wanted to ignore the summons, but his desire to find out the truth won out over his ornery nature so he got up and left his room without saying a word to his partner (not that Ben acted surprised at all to see him leave). There were a few Ravens out in the hallways, but none brave enough to question him, especially when he headed in the direction of the Black Hall.

Very few went there unless invited to by one of the ‘perfect court’; people would assume it was just him getting away from Ben and raiding the ‘good’ break room again while Riko was gone.

Like he wouldn’t raid the break room while Riko was standing in the middle of it.

Moreau was waiting for him with a mug of coffee in hand. “Nat should be busy for a couple hours at least,” he said by way of greeting.

Andrew went to fix coffee for himself. “Translating stuff.” That’s what Moreau had told him the other day. “He do that a lot?”

“Somewhat. He’ll be called up to the East Tower during games to translate for some of the guests up there, or to work on documents for Tetsuji or Kengo.”

“Kengo, Tetsuji’s brother and Riko’s father.” Andrew knew a few things.

“Yes, Tetsuji’s brother.” Moreau gave him a considering look then focused his attention on the door of the break room as if to ensure that no one was out in the hall. “Are you sure you want to-“

“Tetsuji’s brother,” Andrew said to urge Frenchie on. “Tell me about the man, everything.”

Moreau gave him an intent look as if judging how serious he was about things (about Nathaniel) before he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he resumed speaking. “The truth of the matter is, the Moriyamas came into their wealth by being crime lords – yakuza. Kengo is the current head of the organization and his oldest son, Ichirou, will take over when he dies.”

Well, that somewhat explained how Tetsuji could be such an abusive bastard and Riko treat people like belongings; they clearly believed themselves to be above the law. “So Tetsuji and Riko do whatever they like because they’re mobsters?”

Moreau wrinkled his nose, which had been broken at one point and not properly set, as he sipped his drink. “Not… exactly. Kengo and Ichirou are part of the main branch, the line that inherits the wealth and responsibility of the Moriyamas. Kengo, as the Moriyama lord, was to only have one son, one heir, but his wife bore two.” His expression grew guarded as he glanced at Andrew for a moment. “She died for that mistake, and Riko was disinherited, was given to Tetsuji to be raised as part of the side branch.”

“Funny, but I always believed it takes two to tango.” When Moreau merely shrugged at the comment, Andrew clicked his tongue. “So Riko has no real power?”

“Not… exactly,” Moreau repeated, and glared when Andrew threw a crumpled napkin at him. “Asshole.”

“Tell me something new,” Andrew said with a wide grin. “Oh, wait, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing right now.”

Moreau muttered in French something while he tugged on his long bangs then sighed. “Riko is still a Moriyama, which means he has money and connections, but has nowhere near the power he’d have if he was part of the main branch.”

It sounded as if someone, a certain spoiled, psychotic brat, might have to answer to his ‘betters’. “And where does Nathaniel fit into all of this?”

It was quiet for about a minute as Moreau stared into his mug then huffed. “The same as I do, more or less. We were sold to the Moriyamas by our fathers.” He looked up at Andrew, who stood there… mentally prodding at that bit of information. “No comment?”

“How the hell do you ‘sell’ someone?” He knew the logistics, but somehow it didn’t seem to fit when one applied it to Exy players.

“Well, in my case, my parents owed a debt to the Moriyamas and decided that it was best paid off by offering me to Tetsuji since I knew how to play Exy.” Oh no, Frenchie didn’t sound bitter about that at all. “In Nat’s case… his father is in charge of a large amount of territory on the northeastern coast and reports to Kengo. For some reason, Nat can’t take over from the man, so he was given to Tetsuji.”

“Nathan Wesninski,” Andrew said as he remembered the redhead with the soulless eyes, the businessman with all the ‘interesting’ rumors.

Moreau nodded in a grave manner. “Yes, Nathan Wesninski, the Butcher of Baltimore. He comes here now and then to deal with people who’ve run afoul of Kengo, and often he reminds Nat to ‘behave’.” He shuddered as he rubbed his right hand along his upper left back. “If you think Riko or Tetsuji is abusive, they have nothing on Nathan. He’s responsible for most of Nat’s scars.”

Most, but not all.

Andrew thought about what he’d been told, about someone thinking they owned his soulmate, that they could abuse him with impunity, and ‘smiled’. “No one owns Nathaniel.”

“Including you?” Moreau dared to ask as he set the mug aside, his expression blank as his obnoxiously tall body coiled with tension, coiled as if ready to launch itself at Andrew.

Andrew clicked his tongue at that bit of nonsense. “Did I stutter?” he asked, each word enunciated slowly. “No. One. Owns. Nathaniel. Do I need to learn sign language or that mumbled slurring you call French so you’ll understand better?”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who grunts out German,” Moreau snapped, as if he couldn’t think of anything more offensive, but he’d relaxed against the counter.

Whatever. If Andrew was a lesser person, he’d be rolling his eyes right then instead of shoving the good granola bars, packets of honey (it was some type of sugar), and energy drinks into the pockets of his hoodie and track pants. “Anything else I need to know? Moriyamas are mobsters and bad, Nathaniel’s father is a serial killer and really bad, and Riko is under the mistaken belief he owns the two of you.”

There was a brief muttering of French again before Moreau shook his head. “That’s it. But be aware that since Riko feels he owns Nat, he probably believes that extends to you.” He rubbed the soul mark hidden beneath the sleeve of his black hoodie, his expression neutral but grey eyes bleak.

Oh, just let Riko try to put a leash on him and lead him around, Andrew would wrap it around the prick’s neck and strangle him with it. He was about to leave the room when something occurred to him. “Does Riko only give Nathaniel out for ‘rewards’?”

He knew the answer as soon as Moreau’s expression shut down, as the backliner wrapped his arms around himself as if to shield himself from someone. “Why do you care?”

Andrew could say because Moreau was Nathaniel’s partner and as much as it galled him, Nathaniel cared about the French bastard. He could say that he knew what it felt like to have unwanted hands and mouths and worse on him, to be used without a care (except he wouldn’t, not to someone he barely trusted). He could say because he needed to know exactly how bad it was with Riko’s power games.

Yet all he did was give the backliner a two-fingered salute before he walked away, well aware that he wouldn’t answer if asked a similar question.

Ben gave him an expectant look when he returned to their room, so Andrew threw him an energy drink and granola bar which his partner caught with a wide grin.

Nathaniel appeared tired during practice on Thursday, but didn’t move as if he’d been injured in any manner. He smiled at Moreau as usual and talked to a few of the Ravens (the ones who didn’t look at him as if he was a piece of meat), and gave Andrew a puzzled look now and then as if he was trying to figure him out.

Good luck with that.

Friday, Aaron bumped into Andrew as they left Biology class and muttered ‘don’t lose, I’ve bet a bundle on you’ on his way out the door, which made Andrew want to lose the game on purpose until he remembered Nathaniel. Nathaniel, who sat in the seat in front of him on the bus as they traveled to WVU for their latest game. Nathaniel, who peaked over the seat to frown at him. “That… doesn’t look like an English assignment book to me.” He motioned to the current wolf shifter ‘romance’ novel Andrew was reading as a diversion.

“It’s not.”

“Okay.” Nathaniel went a whole fifteen seconds (nibbling on his full bottom lip the entire time, which did nothing to Andrew to watch, nothing). “What does ‘omega’ mean?”

Oh no, Andrew wasn’t having an A/B/O discussion with his soul mate on a crowded bus. No. “Going to cheer us on as we defeat the Mountaineers?”

Nathaniel frowned as he ran his long, slender fingers (which Andrew didn’t think about at all, about them on his- he didn’t think of them AT ALL) along the top of the seat. “I wish the Master would have let me play this year, I’m more than ready. And you shouldn’t have a problem tonight, they’re weak on their offense, they act tough but they crumble if you don’t back down in four seconds.”

Andrew listened as his soulmate went over a concise review of the Mountaineers that was better than what he’d suffered through in the past week, mindful to pay attention to the few players Nathaniel singled out. When his soulmate finished up his summary of the other team, Andrew gave him a solemn nod and a quiet ‘thank you’, which made Nathaniel blink at him and a slight blush spread across his sharp cheekbones before he muttered something and ducked back down in his seat.

That allowed Andrew to finish his wolf shifter book (light on the plot, which was why he liked the books – he could finish them in a few hours without much brain cells involved and have a bit of twisted amusement over its ridiculousness).

At least it wasn’t a long drive to WVU, a campus known for its partying which somehow, Andrew doubted the Ravens would be allowed to join in; Tetsuji made sure to segregate the team from the rest of the university as soon as they arrived and set them up to practice on the court once they were in uniform.

Someone had no sense of adventure.

At least he got to watch Nathaniel stretch with the rest of the team (he was still trying to figure out if it was a good or bad thing that his soulmate was so damn flexible) and do drills before he retreated to the sidelines. That was around when Riko and Kevin came back from dealing with the press, and Riko made sure to hold up two fingers to Andrew as he walked past.

Such a shame Andrew didn’t have anything sharp in hand at the moment to shove into the bastard’s throat.

What he did have was a growing clarity as the drug-fueled mania slowly faded away (yet how odd, the urge to kill Riko still remained); he watched the first half of the game against the Mountaineers all too aware of Nathaniel sitting next to him on the bench, lean body twitching each time the Ravens scored a goal or lost possession of the ball. Nathaniel smiled, slight but pleased, whenever Moreau successfully blocked a Mountaineer, and glared when his partner took a rough hit.

He nearly jumped in his seat when Andrew cleared his throat. “Yeah, weak in offense.”

Nathaniel turned toward him, a slight frown on his face, and for a moment Andrew thought he wouldn’t speak. “Most of them. Peters’ being rougher than usual tonight.”

He was the one trying to take down Moreau. “Cheng’s trying to fake out Ivanova into thinking he’s shooting for the top of the goal then going lower.” The striker had done that twice so far, and gotten past the goalie once.

That slight smile appeared once more on Nathaniel’s lovely face (not that Andrew had any real opinion on how the redhead looked or anything). “You noticed that?”

Andrew clicked his tongue and forced his attention back onto the game. “I just spend my time in a painted box waiting for people to throw balls in my direction. Not like I do any real work out there.”

“Of course,” Nathaniel murmured, but he sounded amused for some reason.

The first quarter ended, which meant that Moreau was swapped out for Federov, which also meant that Nathaniel took to speaking quietly with his partner in Japanese until halftime.

Perhaps it was the lack of drugs in his system, perhaps it was knowing that Moreau was concerned about his own soulmate (the fear of Riko finding out who he was), but as he glanced at the two backliners out of the corner of his eye… there was evident affection between them and long familiarity, but nothing to suggest they were in a relationship themselves. There weren’t any lingering touches or glances, nothing intimate or possessive between them.

Yet Andrew still felt a ridiculous urge (which he ignored) to shove Moreau off the bench.

It was almost welcome to be out on the court for the second half of the game, to be away from Nathaniel and the traitorous emotions the bond between them awoke in Andrew. In the goal, his world focused down to the idiots trying to get past him to score a point, which he refused to allow.

(He knew he couldn’t keep shutting down the goal for the rest of the season, but WVU wasn’t much of a challenge.)

Moreau gave him a nod in acknowledgement when the teams lined up at the end of the game, while there was a look of relief on Nathaniel’s face before he schooled it into a blank expression when the Ravens gathered in the locker room for Tetsuji to give them a gruff ‘you did a decent job today’.

Riko caught Andrew on the way to the bus, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes as he blocked Andrew from exiting the stadium. “Impressive job out there tonight. Perhaps there’s something to letting you play… natural.”

“Only so much at a time,” Andrew said as he smiled, his expression exaggerated once again since he’d taken a pill after the game; it wasn’t that long of a drive back to Edgar Allan, but long enough that he’d be experiencing withdrawals by the time they reached campus so he’d went ahead and taken it.

He’d have to wait until next week to have time with Nathaniel as ‘himself’.

Yet the urge to protect Nathaniel as they went to his soul mate’s room, to make Federov and Bautista and the other Ravens who stared at the redhead in a hungry manner glance away in fear was still there, as well as some tremulous emotion when Nathaniel didn’t insult him or run away but walked beside him.

There were a fresh set of sheets on Moreau’s bed when he entered the room.

“Try not to snore so much this time,” Nathaniel said, a half-hearted sneer on his face as he dropped onto his bed.

Andrew gasped as he clutched his hands to his chest. “I have never been so slandered in my life. Never.”

Nathaniel scoffed as he rubbed at his eyes as if he was tired. “Right, that’s the worst you’ve ever heard. Such a sheltered life you’ve led.” Then he dropped his hands and had the grace to look guilty. “Uhm, I mean… that didn’t come out right.”

The press had delighted in going on about his stint in juvie, him being in the foster system and of course him being arrested for beating up the assholes who’d hurt Nicky, not that he’d cared at all. “I know not what you mean, I’m just an innocent babe alone in this wicked, cruel world.” He tried to bat his eyes but wasn’t sure it worked well with the manic grin.

Nathaniel gazed at him for several seconds before he sighed and stood up. “I didn’t see you take a hit to the head earlier so I think it’s okay for you to go sleep,” he mumbled as he went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Andrew gasped again. “You care for me! You truly do care!” His lips twitched when his ‘dear’ soulmate gave him the finger before the bathroom door slammed shut.

At the very least, someone didn’t quite hate him as much anymore. Who knew, maybe by the time he graduated, Nathaniel might even trust him.

He blamed the drugs for the feeling of warmth in his chest at that thought.

*******

IDK, still working through some things, but lately it’s been... if I post is that a sad cry for attention? Am I being annoying? Maybe I shouldn’t post stuff... but I said I’d post this.

*sighs*

Anyway, back to writing the other fic. Hope everyone is staying safe.

#nekojitachanfics #mumbling into the void #andreil soulmates #soulmates au #raven!andrew #raven!neil #edgar allan ravens #neil as nathaniel #andrew minyard #neil josten #jean moreau #riko moriyama #kevin day #protective andrew #protective jean #we're starting to get somewhere #why yes andrew please do tell neil about a/b/o #you know nicky sent him those books #aaron minyard

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blutopaz15 · 3 years

Text

Happy Ezran Appreciation Week! Day 3

Jelly Tarts / Family (Click for Ao3 Link!)

Ezran really liked having a sister.

Partially because it meant he had a co-conspirator against Callum. So when their favorite jerkface started being—well, a jerkface—a few days into their vacation at the Banther Lodge, Ezran now had an accomplice in his efforts to get under his skin in return.

It had started when a particularly crabby Callum started griping about charades one evening. As far as Ezran could tell, Callum’s wild flailing could only have been his interpretation of swimming, so he rattled off every sea creature he could think of as the seconds ticked away. When the sand ran out in the timer, Callum started in on him, ranting about how obviously he was pantomiming flying. Ezran had just crossed his arms, calling him a sore loser. Callum’s face had reddened, and when he let fly a particularly salty insult, Rayla’s head whipped around to glare at Callum faster than Ezran had ever seen before.

“Don’t yell at him!” She looked ready to throttle Callum when he scoffed in response. Her jaw was set in anger when she and Ezran shared a conniving look.

The next morning, when Ezran woke up, he found Rayla calmly at the table, a cup of tea in her hands, while the sounds of Callum tearing through his room mumbling in frustration came down over the balcony.

“What’s going on?” He’d asked with a yawn.

Rayla just pointed to one of the statues across the way in the sitting room, which was now sporting a red scarf. Ezran grinned and joined her at the table, where she poured him some tea too.

The next day, Callum had started griping at him again, this time about Ezran using the last of the snowman/elf supplies. Apparently to Callum, using two carrots for a snowelf with both a nose and horns was an offense worth yelling over. Ezran shouted back that he was a jerk, and Callum stomped away, apparently unwilling to acknowledge his stupitude.

Rayla’s appeared at Ezran’s side as Callum stormed off. “Meet me in the kitchen when the clock strikes three tonight,” she said mysteriously, before disappearing to follow Callum’s steps into the woods.

Ezran pieced together from the way they sat at opposite corners of the room over dinner and the way that Rayla camped out with blanket and pillow in the sitting room at bedtime, that whatever she’d had to say to Callum in the woods had not been pleasant or well-received.

He’d asked if everything was okay after Callum had disappeared to go to bed, and she’d been reassuring. “Eh, it’s fine. Don’t forget the plan.”

So, at three in the morning, Ezran came down the stairs and heard pots and pans clattering in the kitchen already.

“Rayla?” He set Bait on the counter, and he obligingly glowed a little brighter to add to the dim lantern light.

“Morning, Ez!” She called cheerily, reaching for the flour on a high shelf in the pantry.

“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“We’re going to make jelly tarts!” She explained with a grin.

“Okay! I’m always up for jelly tarts,” he said, turning to the cabinet to survey their jelly choices.

“Fake jelly tarts,” she clarified. Ezran gave her a puzzled look. “...and I guess we should make some real ones too while we’re at it.” She shrugged.

“I’m not following,” he said, looking away from the jars of jelly to understand.

“Well, for Callum we’ll make some ketchup tarts.” She held up the glass bottle of ketchup. “And I guess for us we can make...I don’t know...raspberry? Strawberry? Whatever you want, as long as it’s red,” she smirked mischievously.

“Rayla, you’re an evil genius,” Ezran grinned back, and they got started.

—

When the morning came and they heard Callum’s door creak open, Rayla and Ezran hushed each other and scrambled to the table, sitting at the side nearest to the part of the platter with the real tarts.

“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re both up,” Callum, dark circles under his eyes betraying a restless night, came to sit opposite his brother. “Listen, guys. I thought about what you both said, and you’re right. I have been really rude and grumpy and...jerkface-y...lately. I’m sorry. And I’m ready to pay the price.” He stood and waited for a response, clearly expecting Ezran to insist on a jerkface dance.

Rayla looked to Ez, uncertain if he’d want to continue on with the rest of their prank given Callum’s apology. Ezran raised his eyebrows and glanced at the platter, smile almost undetectable.

“No need, Callum,” Ez started, holding up a hand diplomatically. “We forgive you.”

“In fact, we made these as a peace offering,” Rayla played along and plucked a tart from Callum’s side of the plate to hand to him.

“Wow, I really don’t deserve you two,” he started, then took a bite. The ketchup oozed out, betraying its entirely un-jelly-like consistency, but Callum seemed not to notice. Ezran looked to see Rayla’s mouth twitching like his was as they both tried desperately to contain their twisted glee.

“Thank you for being—” He froze and stopped chewing, his face growing red. Ezran broke first, grin giving way into a giggle and then full-bellied laughter as he watched Callum examine the red goop and stick a finger in it to taste it on its own. “Okay, I deserved that.” His face fell into a good-natured and understanding frown.

Rayla wiped a tear from her eyes as she cackled alongside Ez. She choked out the words between waves of laughter. “That’s what you get for messing with my little brother.” She winked at Ezran as she called him her brother. Ezran really liked having a sister.

#ezran appreciation week #ezran #callum #rayla #the dragon prince #jelly tarts #family #fanfiction #background rayllum #bc of course there is

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intelligentdumbass · 4 years

Text

Two Bros

Sometimes the messenger couldn’t help but think back to the moment they first met. Sometimes he wondered if his brother did too.

--------------

It was a bright and sunny day, and he was a mischievous little piece of shit.

Apollo glared at the young boy and yet, despite the fact that he had just threatened to throw the bastard into Tartarus, his expression slowly softened.

Hermes grinned. “I’m willing to trade this lyre for the cows!”

--------------

‘Things were so much simpler, back then’ the god thought, as he sighed, laying down on an open field and gazing up into the night sky. Speaking of Apollo…

A head suddenly popped into view, accompanied by a familiar melodious voice.

“What’re you doing here?”

Hermes blinked. “I-” “I’m on a break; somehow sleep wasn’t cooperating with me tonight, so here I am. Hey, if anything, I should be the one asking you that!”

“Ah well, sorry if I startled you then. I was just passing by.”

“Since when did you like to walk around in the dark in some random ass field??”

“Bored.”

“...you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His brother seemed confused by that remark and just smiled.

The messenger internally cursed. Now the moon wasn’t the only thing his eyes were focusing on.

‘Things were so simple, back then.’

‘How did this happen and how the fuck did I get here??’

Perhaps Perseus had softened him up more than he thought he did.

He was glad to finally see him again, though. Contrary to what he was used to, he could barely even recall the last time he had ran into him. How long had it been, a month? Two months? Three?

Hermes sat up and asked, “You’re really free tonight?”

“Well, I did just say that I’m bored, didn’t I? What about it?”

“So am I.” He looked quite determined all of a sudden. “You wanna hang out? It’s been a while.”

“I guess it has been a while.” Apollo thought for a moment. “What do you have in mind?”

---------------------------------

“Uh, Hermes, where are we going?”

“Wherever the fates will take us!”

“So, basically what I was doing before I bumped into you, walking around until I find something interesting.”

“Well then mister-know-it-all, can you think of something better? Hmmmm?”

The god held in a laugh. “No.” He glanced around, the grass crunching under their steps. “I suppose, with your company, this is sort of… nice; kind of relaxing actually.”

“Heh, of course it is!” The messenger just hoped that the moon wasn’t too bright. “Being around me is the best!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Debatable.”

Hermes pouted, at which Apollo could no longer contain his laughter, not that the younger god cared. If anything, instead of taking offense, it only made him smile.

Then he sighed.

He was a patron of thieves and deceit; his brother was the god who never lied. He had always thought that they would never get along, but it seems that the fates thought otherwise.

He still remembered how it used to be. Back then, his brother would look like he was judging him every time he walked into the room. However, unbeknownst to him, that wasn’t true at all, but that interpretation was through no fault of his. Apollo had always been hard to read, especially back in the early days when he barely knew him.

He’s not sure when, but at some point that judging look was suddenly accompanied by a dazzling smile. The first time it happened though, he recalled that it had been slowly replaced by a small frown.

--------------

“Is everything alright, Hermes?” The blonde raised an eyebrow.

He merely blinked, laughing it off. “Of course! Just got a little distracted for a second there.”

--------------

Ironically, similar to how it was in that memory, Apollo had to snap him back into reality again; this time by having to grab a hold of his arm to prevent him from mindlessly walking off a cliff.

Needless to say, it took a while for Hermes to convince a concerned god of health that everything was okay.

---------------------------------

He could never truly figure out when the predicament first took root; when this feeling really started to grow and gnaw on him. All he knew was that it was probably indirectly influenced by that incident with Perseus and just, everything about Apollo in general. Then again, what the hell did he know? Even Athena realized he was head over heels for him earlier than he did.

--------------

“Hermes,” She whispered. “You’re staring.”

--------------

He shook the thoughts out of his head and tried to regain his bearings. They were sitting on the edge of a cliff overlooking a nearby town. Not only that, there was also music in the air, and his eyes darted to the turtle lyre in the musician’s hands.

This time Apollo noticed. “Did you prefer the silence?”

“Nonono, not at all.” He paused. “By the way, how’s Asclepius?”

“He’s doing fine, now that he’s well adjusted. I’m just glad he’s back.”

Hermes could’ve sworn something about his brother’s gaze felt mildly… bittersweet, somehow.

And so for a few moments, that was all it was, the hum of their lyre. They had no other company aside from a curious deer, a few feet away, munching on a patch of grass.

Then his eyes fell onto the city, specifically one of the blonde’s temples, and an idea popped into his head, but not before briefly arguing with himself.

‘Ooooohhhh, are you going to perform another song number to cheer him up?-’

‘Hey! I thought we agreed to never talk about that ever again!’

‘I mean, it technically wasn’t your voice that ruined it. Remember? Goldie actually quite liked it. You were just a clumsy dumbass that tripped and knocked everything over.’

‘Shush!’

Well, at least the remark about his singing made him feel a little better. This new plan to cheer Apollo up, however, had nothing to do with that and would hopefully be a lot less risky.

“You hungry?” Hermes asked. “I could kinda go for some honey cake right now.”

“Honey cake… I do like me some honey cake and I guess there is nothing that’s going to stop me from just, making one right now.” He paused, before turning towards his brother. “You want to help?”

---------------------------------

Olympus’ garden was huge; its depths filled with paths most don’t even know of. It was here that the two gods sat down on top of a small hill, right in front of a giant crevice that overlooked all of their creations.

Apollo was the one holding the plate that held their precious honey cake. “We really like coming here, huh?”

“Who wouldn’t? The view’s spectacular.” While his brother was busy staring off into the horizon, Hermes took the opportunity to take a small bite out of their dessert. “Damn, the cake tastes really good by the way.”

Apollo was about to protest about the bastard sneakily taking the first bite, when Hermes softly pressing a tiny piece of cake against his mouth.

“Come on goldie, try it!”

He gave him a look, but still ate it anyway. “Mm… I guess so, not bad. Actually, kinda proud of it!” His eyes faintly lit up.

Hermes couldn’t help but smile at that. “We should do this more often-”

To his surprise, this time Apollo was the one that help up a piece of the dessert for him. “We really should.”

The messenger reluctantly obliged and took a bite, but suddenly froze. The blonde was holding his chin and had used his thumb to brush away most of the crumbs near his lips. Now he felt a little dizzy.

“Maybe I should ask the others for some recipes-” Apollo stopped, immediately getting worried when Hermes had his hands over his own mouth and started choking.

-------

“Hey, hey, hey Herms?-”

“Y-” “Yeah, yeah I can hear you, I’m fine-”

“Fine my ass!”

“I mean, well that’s not wrong either-” “Oh my fucking gods I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH-” Hermes just covered his mouth again while Apollo frowned in confusion, but decided that there were other far more pressing matters to attend to and continued analyzing his brother’s condition; even placing two fingers on his neck to check for this idiot’s pulse.

“What the hell happened?! You looked like you had a fucking heart attack.”

“I… I think you’re over thinking this. It was probably just me being a dumbass.” He laughed nervously.

Apollo didn’t seem very convinced.

Hermes internally cursed himself again; placing his hands on both of the blonde’s shoulders. “So I choked on a cake, so what? Look, seriously I’m fine, okay? Come on, relax.”

“If you say so…” It was obvious that it barely comforted him at all. Still, Apollo felt bad when he frowned. He didn’t want the messenger to start blaming himself and feeling guilty about ruining the mood. “I’m sorry. I was just really worried.” He briefly paused, before muttering, “I love you. Even if we’re gods, the last thing I want is to see you suffering or incapacitated-”

“It was just a fucking honey cake-” “wait.” Hermes stared, suddenly feeling like he could barely breathe; only managing to just barely stutter out, “W-” “What did you just say?”

The musician looked puzzled. “Hm? Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

“Huh? Nononono! I just-” The thought of making Apollo feel even worse made his insides knot; panicked, he just blurted out, “I-” “ILOVEYOUTOO!”

Apollo didn’t expect that response at all. He barely had any time to process anything when Hermes stood up, about to scram, but a stray grapevine made him trip at the first step.

The messenger heard someone giggle. One second he was face first onto the ground; the next he was suddenly looking up at a familiar blonde, cradled in his arms.

“I had a feeling you were hiding something from me…” Apollo’s frown turned into a teasing grin.

“Pft! What in Zeus’ name are you talking a-” “about…” His voice slowly trailed off the moment he felt a hand cup his cheek.

Apollo just, laughed. “My, my, who knew the charismatic silver tongue bastard could be as red as-”

“Oh fuck you!”

The god raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Hermes paused, and then cursed, now avoiding eye contact.

“You alright? For someone who knows the mortal realm like the back of his hand you look… kinda lost?”

He was reluctant to even respond this time. “No shit; this isn’t something I’m experienced in.”

“Experience in what? Navigating the road to my bed?”

At that point his brain might’ve just malfunctioned, while the other chuckled; his smile only getting wider.

“Okay sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it-” He stopped.

His arms were empty.

-------

Fortunately, in the process of trying to run away, Hermes somehow ended up back at the hill. He was hesitant, but curious, and the moment he took a closer look he immediately felt his heart drop. Apollo didn’t really look upset but rather… unexpressive?

Apollo hadn’t run after him because he figured that the messenger needed some time to breathe, so you can imagine his surprise when he found himself suddenly wrapped up in a hug, accompanied by a shit ton of apologies.

“I… Herms, it’s okay.” He laughed, giving him a few pats on the back. “I’ll be fine; now you’re the one over thinking things.”

The god was suspicious, but didn’t pry any further, at least for now. Instead, he just hugged a little tighter. “Still, sorry for being an absolute fucking disaster.”

“No need. Hey, on the bright side it was kinda cute-” The musician felt a faint punch on his side, causing him to laugh even more.

“Anyway…” Hermes sighed, pulling away. “What happened to the honey cake?”

“It’s over here.” Apollo picked up the plate that he had set aside, and broke off a small piece of the dessert. “You still want some?”

The messenger stared at it for a bit, and then parted his lips.

---------------------------------

Instead of waking up to the walls of his room, his eyes were greeted by familiar tuffs of gold. Hermes immediately sat up and tried to get his bearings. It was then that it hit him.

They haven’t left at all; they both fell asleep in the garden.

That wasn’t the only thing he noticed. Looking around, there weren’t just tiny drops of morning dew on the grass, but several puddles scattered all over.

‘Huh? Did it rain?’

He glanced at the blonde. Neither of them had a single speck of water on them.

‘Guess he’s just that hot, huh?’ He softly snickered at his own pun.

He knew he probably had a few jobs to do, but instead of standing up, he just laid back down, wrapping an arm around the musician’s waist and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Unbeknownst to Hermes, Apollo smiled, and that wasn’t the only detail he missed. The vine that had made him trip was gone, like it never existed, but what did it matter? All the messenger cared about was going back to sleep.

#hermes #apollo #hermapollo #writing disaster hermes is FUN #greek gods #greek mythology #not as serious #mostly just having fun #when i wrote this #MyWritingShit #two bros #sitting on a hilltop #0 feet apart cause they’re so gay-

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things-we-used-tc-share · 4 years

Text

The Slow Acceptance of Janus Sanders

(And the inevitable plight of falling in love with Patton)

Warnings: Spoilers for the last video sort of.

Ship: Moceit

Plot: When you love someone you start picking up their habits a little. And as it turns out, Janus is actually very good at caring about the others.

Word Count: 3323

I: How to Make Pancakes And Friends.

The morning is quiet, the hum of nature outside vast and undisturbed bar the wind and squirrels. The sunlight streams in, the cool air drifting through an open window, and illuminating a man with a cup of tea in his hands as he stares out at the world that had been created for them. He sips the tea, swirling the warm liquid around his mouth before swallowing it, apparently deep in thought.

“Good morning Patton,” He jumps at the sound, looking over to the newcomer, whose arms were crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face as Patton calms down from the fright he just received. “Terribly sorry,” He doesn’t sound sorry, mostly he’s smiling, Patton doesn’t take offense and gives him a warm smile in return.

“Well Janus, you could’ve given me a warning before sneaking up on me like that!” He slides off the windowsill with a shake of his head, his tone reminiscent of a father berating their child, but in a way that only makes Janus feel somewhat accepted by Patton. The patronisation he could do without but whatever helps the moral side cope is also good enough for him. His name sounds strange coming from any of the other sides’ mouths, yesterday evening Logan had said his name to his face and Janus almost forgot how to breathe.

It’s a learning curve.

“I did warn you, I said good morning,” He isn’t lying, and Patton laughs lightly, shaking his head as he wanders into the kitchen. “Are you making breakfast?” He follows the other like a lost puppy, the moral facet does not mind and opens cupboard doors. “We don’t…need to eat?”

“Need and want are not the same thing,” He hands Janus a frying pan and grins. “Here I’ll show you how to make them,” And he does. Or at least he tries, it takes the deceitful side several attempts of burned pancakes before he finally gets the hang of it. He almost forgets his mysterious façade as he flips a perfect pancake and cheers lightly, Patton grins at him.

It was quite an interesting experience, when Roman and Logan drag themselves downstairs and find Janus giggling into his hands as Patton tries to scrape pancake off the ceiling between fits of laughter.

II: Janus is Not Patton, Roman is Not Remus.

A couple of weeks later, Roman grumbles as he walks in through the front door. He’d made this place, well, a part of him had, and so had Remus. They’d kept reshaping and building the mindscape throughout the years.

Which is why it’s more amusing that he always seems to end up with the most bruises and cuts, because you would think that by now he knew where all the danger was, in a place of his own creation.

“Where’s Patton?” He asks as he stands in the living room, bruises on his face and cuts on his arms. They will heal, but he’s not Logan and he knows very little about the human body in terms of healing (He really should learn so he can heal himself faster). Janus, who is sat cross-legged on the sofa, looks up from the crossword puzzle that he’s staring at so very intensely.

“I think he’s gone outside for something,” He gives a small smile. “What’s the matter?” The tension between them hadn’t quite dissipated from their little argument, so he feels in some small way like he’s treading rough currents or walking a tightrope “May I…be of assistance?” Janus is not Logan either, but he has spent years putting Remus’ bones back into place and tending to nasty scars. “Those aren’t so bad, all you really need is some antiseptic and plasters,” Suddenly, he’s not waiting for Roman’s response as he hurries one half of the creative sides to sit down and grabbing the first aid kit. Roman doesn’t argue, just lets Janus clean up the blood. The elder is distinctly reminded of every time he’s had to patch Remus up; whilst Roman just thinks Janus is much like Patton, for a moment, he swears the care in the other’s eyes, the concentration on fixing something up…if it weren’t for the scales he could’ve been him.

III: Take a Moonlight Drive Until You Smile (Or Sleep).

The deceitful side, now that he’s making a habit out of eating food for the sake of it, finds he enjoys midnight snacks. Most of the time he’s alone, although sometimes he finds himself berating the most prominent night owls: Logan and Virgil, about knowing when to sleep instead of doing their jobs. They don’t require sleep in the same sense actual human beings would, but they do still get tired as anyone else would, both emotionally and physically.

This night however, it isn’t Logan or Virgil who he runs into, but curled up on the windowsill, staring out into the night is Patton.

“Patton?” Janus asks, eyebrows furrowed, the moral side is wearing a onesie with cat ears and he looks both very tired and adorable. “What…has you up at this late hour?” He doesn’t hide the surprise in his tone, moving closer to the other, almost ready to tell him to go to bed; Logan and Virgil might cope with atrocious sleep schedules, but Patton requires balance and rhythm. He needs repetition to feel secure, and is not adjusted to change in any way, shape or form.

“I couldn’t sleep, my head is…too loud,” Patton doesn’t meet Janus’ eyes, but in the low light of the moon and the corner lamp, the lying side can tell in seconds that he’d been crying. He understands that feeling too, and sighs, holding out his hand.

“Come,” He instructs, the moral side looks surprised, but doesn’t kick up a fight, taking the other’s hand. “I’ll take your mind off it,” He grabs a coat off the rack and hands it to the other man; Patton gives a confused smile and does as he’s told, being led out the front door. The outside world surrounding their mansion of a home is mostly fields and the like, trees and forests, and hills, all the things that make Roman and Remus feel a little more like themselves. It isn’t a scenery that will be argued, as it is almost picturesque.

Janus opens the garage door, rolling up the shutter to reveal a car, something Patton had known they owned but had never had the urge to be in, until now. He gets in the passenger seat and does not speak. Janus turns on the car, and the radio, and then he drives. Patton doesn’t know how long they drove for, he fell asleep somewhere along the line, and woke up halfway up the stairs as he was carried to his bed.

He sleeps then, until the next morning.

Patton doesn’t mention it to Janus, but he does say thank you quietly, before starting on breakfast. The two say nothing more on the matter, even though they consider it separately in silence.

IV: Janus is Not Patton, Part 2.

“Patton’s not feeling well,” Roman informs the deceitful side one evening “Can you make dinner?” Logan looks up from the book in his hands, as though just a little disappointed. Much like Janus, he had initially thought it to be pointless to eat when they don’t need to functionally eat, however Patton’s meals became just as much of a guilty pleasure as cups of coffee, or sleep, and just because you don’t need something in a literal sense, doesn’t mean it does not have benefits.

So, he too, is a little disappointed that he’s not having Patton’s Sunday dinner tonight.

“Of course, I’ll just become your secondary maid because you don’t know how to turn an oven on,” Janus replies, but his tone is teasing and when he cracks the slightest smile, Roman relaxes. “I do wonder if you look after yourself at all, Roman,” He moves, his fingertips drumming against the counter as he looks around the kitchen “Sunday dinner then?”

“Usually that is what one eats on a Sunday,” Logan mutters, voice quiet, but almost verging on humorous. Roman laughs, and the elder nods in agreement almost sarcastically, his one human eyebrow raising, before he sets about making dinner. It feels strange, cooking for them all, not quite as strange as knowing that Patton had taught him how to cook before Roman and Logan. He knows that Logan, at least, is probably a fairly good cook, but their roles extend beyond just their functions.

Which means Patton had, to some extent, accidentally made him second in command

(It hadn’t been an accident at all).

After everyone else had eaten, the deceitful side knocks at Patton’s door with a bowl of soup and a piece of chocolate cake. The other smiles at him, accepts the food with a hoarse voice and thanks him for looking after the others. “I know it’s hard sometimes,” Patton mutters “Roman especially sometimes needs more care than you would expect, but I suppose you got the harder end of the deal,”

Deceit shrugs, his smile tired “Remus is not hard to deal with once you know how to deal with him, the same way Virgil or Roman or even Logan are not hard to deal with once you understand how they work, actually I think I have a harder time understanding Logan,” It’s a joke, which sounds strange coming from his mouth, both to himself and too Patton.

“Thank you,” Patton says.

“You’re welcome,” he doesn’t know what he’s being thanked for, but he also doesn’t really care.

V: Everybody has a Hobby. Even The Bad Guys.

Logan has a habit of drinking in the evening, it’s not a problem and it doesn’t affect him in the slightest as he can quite literally control whether or not he gets drunk. Plus, he’s a very slow drinker. He sits on the couch, book in his lap and his feet up with a glass of whiskey and elderflower on the coffee table. Across from him, on the other couch, is Patton, undertaking a crochet scarf with silent mutterings of how hard such a task actually is. Logan glances up every now and then with some semblance of fondness.

A glass of wine is placed in front of Patton, and the other mutters a thanks without looking up, trying to untangle knots that shouldn’t be there, before gloved hands are placed over his “May I?” The moral side looks up, a light blush over his freckled cheeks before he hands the half-made scarf to Janus, who sits beside him. “You just have to keep your hands a little steadier,” The other explains, unknotting the tangled threads with ease, he examines it to see where Patton has gone wrong, before he starts to explain. Patton stares at him, half listening, but mostly enthralled in the way the other speaks, the look on his face, the flush to his cheeks as he shares something he likes with another person, perhaps truly for the first time in his life.

Logan glances over the top of his book, watching as Janus meets Patton’s eyes and stutters, before he rolls his own eyes. Feelings, he thinks to himself, an internal laugh sounding silently in his own mind. He’s getting used to such things surrounding him, but mostly he is happy for there to be stability, a sense of peace that comes with the two halves of morality working together.

Still, he averts his eyes back to his book, feeling somewhat like he’s intruding on something he can’t quite understand.

VI: Snow Day

A low squeal fills the air as the two halves of creativity dash outside into an unusual weather pattern. Snow, in August. Janus supposes Roman or Remus must have wishes really hard, which is generally how these things happen in the mindscape. Logan tuts, narrowly avoiding getting coffee spilled all over him as Remus runs past him to get outside. Patton snorts as he grabs his gloves and hat and coat, pausing to look back at Janus, who is halfway through making his own coffee.

At the gaze fixated on him, he sighs, and places the mug down, drifting past the moral side to get his coat. Patton beams happily, handing the snake-skinned side a warmer hat than the bowler he usually wears, grinning as the other’s hair sticks up in every direction in the transition from one to another.

The air is cold outside, and Remus is hurling snowballs at Roman, for a moment they really do seem like brothers, dodging around each other in the snow. Patton and Janus remember simpler days, when the two were really halves of a person, before Roman learned what an ego was, and Remus learned how to bring death. This is the one time they only really have each other, because Virgil and Logan are not making habits out of snowball fights, and Janus and Patton are more on the ‘stand and watch’ front personally. It’s the one time that they both seem normal and human.

Janus, grinning with mischief, rolls up a snowball out of the soft snow. “Don’t even think about it,” Patton squeaks, minutes before he’s wiping the snow off his face. Usually they’re prone to spectating, making sure the brothers don’t kill each other for a few seconds at a time. But soon they’re both hurling snowballs at each other, tripping up over the muddy white to see who ends up shivering the most.

Patton trips over his own feet, slipping on an icy patch, he grabs hold of Janus with every intention to shove him down first. But the deceitful side simply loses balance and finds his face buried in Patton’s chest, breathing heavily and giggling as the snow seeps through their clothes. Janus isn’t sure he’d ever been so close to another person, as he leans up and sees Patton’s flushed cheeks, the cold stinging his eyes but his body so very warm. He knows the smile on his own face must be softer than intended, because when the moral side opens his eyes, the smile slips a little as though he’s surprised.

Janus moves quickly then, pushing himself up and away from Patton, holding out a hand to help the other to his feet.

For the rest of that day he just replays that moment in his head, the look on the other’s face, eyes widening and lips holding a ghost of a smile, like he’d been struck by something he’d never thought of.

VII: Hot Day

It is so hot today, and nobody knows why, it’s not even this hot in the actual real world, but it’s sweltering in the mindscape. Roman was wearing shorts, Virgil had given up on his hoodie and Logan’s tie is dangling around his neck, the first four buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, a look that is apparently attracting Remus’ attention as he pesters the logical side with flirts that are unlikely to get returned.

Patton’s hair is curling a little as he tries to make lunch. Janus chuckles a little at the flustered expression, red cheeks and an inability to handle the warmth. He makes his way over and offers to take some of the workload, as Patton leans against the counter, tilting his head back with his eyes closed, clearly boiling in his thick polo shirt. The snakeskin side finishes off lunch, his black shirtsleeves rolled up as he places the plates down, watching the other sides move lethargically to get something to eat.

“Thanks,” Patton mutters.

“Of course,” Janus replies, biting into a cheese and tomato toastie, offering the other half to the other man as they lean against the kitchen counter, listening to the twins fight whilst Logan tries to read.

He does the dishes, whilst Patton leans his head on the counter, muttering that he has a headache. Janus does not think as he pauses scrubbing plates to grab some paracetamol out of the cupboard. He doesn’t wait for a thank you, he barely even realises he did it; he doesn’t know when he started acting as in tune with Patton’s feelings, and neither does the moral facet, who takes the paracetamol without even thinking. When that rhythm had started, bouncing around each other’s needs, neither of them can pinpoint, but it has Virgil and Roman raising their eyebrows and looking between each other.

“They’re basically married,” Roman uttered, with a snort that doesn’t hide his worried expression.

“Well, that’s their business,” Virgil replies, looking slightly uncomfortable with the idea of prying. He trusts Patton to make good decisions, and that’s all he wants to know about this situation, so he makes himself scarce in his own room. Nobody mentions it again, consciously making a decision that it simply isn’t their job to pry, even Remus, who is the king of making people uncomfortable, doesn’t mention the closeness between the two of them. Not particularly because he cares, but mainly because pissing off Janus, the only person who has managed somewhat to be kind to him, is not high on his to-do list.

VIII: Take a Hug Until You Smile (Or Sleep)

At 3am one morning, Janus stirs awake to a gentle knock at his door. He rubs his eyes, switching on the lamplight and wincing at the brightness of the room, before making his way to the cracked yellow door, turning the handle so that it opens. “Sorry,” Patton mutters, stood on the other side and looking far too small and far too cold. “I couldn’t sleep”.

“Come on in Patton,” The way he says his name sounds calm, the calmest that Patton has felt all evening as he twists and turns in his bed. His skin aches, and he reaches out to rest his hand on the exposed scales of Deceit’s left arm. They’re cool under his touch, and thankfully the younger of the two understands as he brings the moral side into his arms. He isn’t sure why the other didn’t go to Virgil or Roman for the matter, but he doesn’t interrogate him on the matter.

In truth, Patton doesn’t really know either, he’d just found himself here, longing more than anything to be in his newest friend’s arms. He rests his head on Janus’ chest, listening to the slow thud of his heart. And then he does know, he wonders how he never knew really, as that quiet heartbeat forces him to close his eyes, as the rhythmic warmth bundles up his senses and he knows.

The two end up lying down together, Patton tucked up under blankets and Janus’ arms, they don’t acknowledge the feeling that surrounds them both, not yet, the realisation is still settling in. But content, and knowing the truth for the first time, Patton falls asleep to the sound of blood pumping like a metronome, wondering how he’d ever slept any other way in his life.

IX: How To Make Pancakes And Lovers.

At 6AM two days later, Janus is trying to make pancakes when Patton comes downstairs. The younger says “Good morning,” but only gets the pan taken gently away from him. He tries to ask what’s wrong, if anything at all, but Patton smiles at him and all that worry ceases, leaving him staring at the other. At his wide eyes, at his smile, at the knowledge they both dance around.

Coherently, with no regret or fault, Janus thinks ‘I love you,’ and then he says it. Patton’s grin widens, and his hands find the other man’s. He repeats those words like an echo, brighter than he’d ever said them, before he’s claiming Janus’ lips in his own. Their hands grasp at each other with a fierce intensity, pressing forward but not forcefully, not in a rushed or hurried way. The younger’s gloved hands cup Patton’s face, holding him like he is holding something so precious, so dainty, like the petals of a flower.

Not for the first time, Logan and Roman get a bit of a surprise when they come downstairs to find the two trying to cook pancakes, but this time between giggles and kisses (And a lot of burned pancaked that got forgotten).

Ko-Fi

–

@analogical-mess // @unikornavenger // @mycatshuman // @creativity-killed-thekitten// @theresneverenoughfandoms // @charmingprincey // @heck-im-lost// @k9cat // @stilljittery // @romansleftshoulderpad // @sanderssideslibrary // @max-is-tired // @demigodnamedathena // @sevencrashing // @jemthebookworm // @sandersandthesides // @penguinkool // @georganabanana // @ao-koshka // @dangerous-doodle // @hell-or-high-waters // @no-sleep-gang-posts // @marshmallow-the-panda // @flix-net // @omni-hamiltrash // @an-absolute-failure // @mason-does-a-thing // @iceoblivious // @fandermom //

#ts spoilers #ts fic #mociet #janus sanders #patton sanders #moxceit

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vicunaburger · 4 years

Text

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 17/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,924 Warnings: M for Mature Content

Notes: TW: Mentions of Hospitals, Not-Quite Self Harm, Injury

Chapter 17: In Which We Lie by Omission

Toast was a tricky food to master.

Not only did one have to factor in the age and setting of each, individual toaster available, but the thickness of the bread was vital to the equation. There was thin line between “just right” and “burnt offerings”, usually moving from one end of the spectrum to the other in the literal blink of an eye.

Lydia squinted her eyes, peering into the orange glow of the toasting mechanisms, trying to determine the level of toast her bread had achieved. Behind her at the kitchen table, Beetlejuice sat quietly, deep in concentration as he mulled over the newspaper spread out before him. Normally, he could solve the weekly bridge puzzle within a few minutes, but his mind was somewhere else, and the answer was eluding him.

With a soft growl, he erased the notes he had been making in the margins of the puzzle, smacking the bits of eraser off the table with more force than what was needed. The soft scritching of graphite against newsprint started up again, only to be interrupted -again- with muttered curses and furious erasing.

His bestest best friend was town between asking him why he was so irritable that morning, or continuing to monitor her toast situation. Both options were precarious paths to navigate, and both of them could end in misery if she wasn’t being extra careful.

“So… hard hand dealt out this week?” Lydia made the first cautious move, still focused on her breakfast. “It’s always the diamonds that get me. You get week after week without them, and then the whole hand is littered with them. Do you think actual bridge is easier to play? I mean, after you scour the world for two other people that not only know but can play it.”

There was no response from the spectre; not even a sound of half-assed acknowledgement.

Concern overtook caution, and Lydia turned to face the dead silent man at the table. Beej was just staring at the paper now, the pencil being thoroughly chewed to bits within the maw of teeth he sported, the end dangling like a cigarette out of the corner of his mouth. Reaching over the table, she snapped her fingers close to his face, trying to get his attention.

“What did I tell you about eating pencils? Quit- quit doing that! You’re gonna drool all over the table.” The petite woman snatched the pencil away from him, raising her voice a little. “Earth to BJ? You in there today?”

He snapped upright with a frown, licking his teeth free of graphite and wooden splinters like an animal, “Did my little Holly-Jolly have a cat?”

Blinking, she took in his navy blue appearance, the space around him seeming to shift like it was an out of focus photo, “A what- oh god, my toast!”

Lydia plucked the now charred pieces of bread out of the toaster, setting them on a plate as smoke gently wafted into the air. Grumbling, she sat down that the table across from him, grabbing a butter knife and attempting to scrape away the burnt coating.

“A cat? Nah, Holli’s allergic to most animals.” She replied, glancing back at the empty bread box on the counter, “Ugggh, out of bread. Knew I should have sent her to the store…”

“Holidae lied to me.” Beetlejuice’s reply was flat, spoken from low in his chest. “Why would she lie to me, Lyds?”

The crunching of the knife against crispy bread stopped immediately at his use of Holidae’s proper name. Lydia’s brain started clocking a thousand impulses a minute, going through several ways to continue the conversation without endangering herself or the house.

“Okay… okay… we need to back this conversation up really fast because you jumped the tracks on me, buddy.” She continued to work on her breakfast, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “What did she supposedly lie about?”

“The cat,” one clawed finger started picking at a small hole in the tablecloth.

She waited to see if he would elaborate before trying again, “She told you she had a cat? Alright, that’s not a huge offense yet, so what was the context? I can’t answer the question without all the facts, Beej.”

Beetlejuice was tearing the tablecloth now, “We were takin’ a shower-”

Lydia grimaced, “I want you to keep any sleazy, porno-riffic details to yourself, or I won’t help you.”

“Nothin’ happened in the shower.” There was a flash of his usual humor peeking through the distress, but only for a moment. “She’s got these big scar things on her arms so I asked her and she said it was a cat. But if she never had a cat, then she lied right to my face. I lie to other people, sure, but nobody lies to me. Not anymore. No offense.”

“None taken,” she shook her head, sighing heavily. “Unfortunately, this is not an adventure I can lead you on, my friend. I am not in charge of Holli’s personal… things. Don’t ask her about it, don’t mention it again. Forget you saw anything and move along.”

She waved her hand in a Jedi-like fashion, earning her a deeper frown from the ghoul. Exhaling a long breath of air, Lydia stuck an unburnt bit of toast into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. If she just spilled all of Holli’s dirty laundry to BJ, there was a very good chance Holidae would drag her to the third floor and toss her out an open window. If she kept quiet like a church mouse, Beej could very well do the same thing; and truth be told she was not ready to spend an entire afterlife being annoyed by the ghostly guide.

Better the devil you know?

“I will tell you once and only once: you are not allowed followup questions, nor are you allowed to interrupt me for any reason. Capice?” Lydia stuck out her hand for him to shake, knowing tempting him a deal would get him to behave for the time being.

The force at which he smacked his palm against hers, coupled with the grip he took hold of her hand, made her wince in discomfort. She could hear the faint popping sound between her knuckles as he squeezed extra hard, pulling his hand away with an unwavering stare. Lydia rubbed her hand gingerly, pouting as she tried to think of where to even start. Certain tidbits of information could be dangerous if let slip to him by accident; the ghost tended to err on the side of literal meanings of certain idioms or phrasing, which wasn’t helpful when trying to explain a serious topic in a less-serious way.

“Yes, they were self-inflicted. No, they weren’t intentional.” Lydia began, gauging his reaction carefully. “You ever notice that when she gets nervous, she starts to scratch at her skin? Like she’s suddenly itchy?”

The spectre nodded, but kept quiet to honor his ‘no interruptions’ caveat.

“Holli has these… instances where she gets too much into her own head. Not literally. She just starts thinking about different things too much and starts to forget to pay attention to where she is or what she’s doing in the moment. There was something… someone upset her-” She stopped herself, fumbling over the words as she spoke them.

“Someone?” He couldn’t help himself, digging his claws into the table.

“Irrelevant.” She snapped, “The point is, when Holli forgets things, she tends to forget important things like eating or sleeping… breather functions. It used to be really bad in college, before she started managing it better.

Lydia watched him carefully as he listened intently, taking note of his solemn mood, “Well, I went on that trip with dad and Delia a few summers ago, remember? And I didn’t… hadn’t paid attention to the fact Holli was having an episode. She always told me not to fret about her, since she was an adult and… well…”

She paused, taking another bite of toast. Even though Holidae never once put the responsibility of her mental health upon her, deep down, Lydia regretted not catching the early warning signs of Holidae’s episode. Lydia was still dealing with her own internalized issues, and Holli always told her to take care of herself more than anyone else.

Beej tilted his head sharply, knowing his friend was thinking hard about something, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it could be. Lydia only thought that hard when she was trying to concoct a lie, or spare him some tedious details that wouldn’t have made sense to a demon like him. Breather details. Things he never had to experience, or things he never needed to consider.

Swallowing her toast, she continued softly, “When I got back, Holli had been admitted into the hospital. They said she hadn’t slept in days, which made her vividly hallucinate random things in the middle of classes; it’s why her arms are torn up. From what the doctors could understand, she claimed she needed to ‘remove the layers’ because there was something wrong? Or she said it was burnt somehow? She doesn’t remember anything… not even me being gone! The first thing she asked me when I saw her in the hospital was if I had missed my flight. It had been a week since I told her goodbye.”

Lydia let out a humorless laugh; memories of her friend hooked up to machines like Frankenstein’s monster with wires all over flooded her mind. Holli looking like death warmed over, sitting confused in the hospital bed and picking idly at a cup of jell-o.

Holidae had been more concerned about her. Her vacation. Not even comprehending her situation until a few days later.

Wisely, the young lady did not disclose the gruesome details of Holidae’s recovery to her demonic pal. Something deep in her gut told her that he wouldn’t have been thrilled to learn about the agonizing healing process; long nights unable to find relief as the skin stitched back together. Pain killers only did so much.

“Just… don’t bring up the scars again, okay?” Lydia sighed, a bit relieved to get that weight off of her shoulders.

Sometimes, it was good to talk things out with a third party; human status notwithstanding. Before Beetlejuice could give any sort of response, the front door opened, the sound of keys clattering into a ceramic dish filling the silence.

“Lyddy, they were out of that weird cereal you like, so I got you the off brand in the industrial sized bag. Should last a few decades.” Holidae’s voice carried into the kitchen, causing both Lydia and Beej to turn toward the entryway to the hall.

In a flash, the demon vanished from his seat at the table, reappearing in the foyer much to Holidae’s shock. With a snap of his fingers, the bags she was balancing in her arms were neatly placed on the kitchen counter, and Holidae herself was wrapped tightly within his grasp.

“Whoa… hey, Juice, are you okay? I was only gone for like an hour.” Holidae was muffled against his coat, half her face pressed into his shoulder.

“Exactly! A whole hour! What if something cool had happened and you weren’t around to see it? Or you might have been kidnapped by angry lawn gnomes! Which means I would have to heroically charge in and save you from their clutches, and of course you would reward me with a night of hot, passionate- oh. You know what? That sounds super special awesome.” He was babbling, pressing sloppy kisses all over her forehead. “Go back out and make yourself attractive to lawn gnomes. Go GO GO!”

Quietly, Lydia listened from the kitchen, surprised that Beej actually listened to her warnings about keeping Holidae unaware of what she had told him.

Then again, there was no guarantee he would keep that promise for long.

Writing Tags: @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs @mrgeuse @amywright @beetlebitchywitch

#beetlejuice x oc #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice x self insert #writing time

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n0-eyedtaissa · 4 years

Text

Coffee and Contemplation (Spencer Reid x Maxine Brenner)

Summary: A casual coffee date turns into a lesson about profiling and attention to detail

Word Count: 1,770

Spencer flits about his kitchen nervously, noticing the crumbs that have accumulated under the toaster and the coffee stains that riddled the too-sticky counter. Max doesn’t seem to take any notice to the pile of junk mail sitting on top of the kitchen counter, though Spencer was astonished about how she could brush it off, his detailed brain going into overdrive as he kept finding other ways to occupy his attention and his anxieties.

“Coffee?” He offers, already up and out of his chair to put on the kettle.

“Please” Max lilts as she tucks herself into one of the thrift store chairs and pokes around the various newspapers that Spencer had read earlier that morning, thumbing around until she found a crossword puzzle with only a few spaces filled in.

“Ah, so you consider yourself to be something of a Cruciverbalist?” Spencer asks, feeling genuinely curious to learn more things about Maxine as this was officially their fifth coffee date (their eighth date overall and the third time that Max had been inside his apartment).

Max stops scribbling her answers down and looks at Spencer with raised eyebrows. “In laymen’s terms please?” She asks sarcastically, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Someone who is skillful in creating and solving crossword puzzles” Spencer reveals, giving her the same kind of closed-mouth smile he often gave in the instances where he thought he said too much.

“Oh god no” Max laughs, taking the steaming mug of coffee out of Spencer’s outstretched hand. Their fingers touch and Spencer can’t help but feel a jolt of electricity, though it may have been a product of him holding onto the hot ceramic for too long.

Spencer sits next to Max, not across from her, and he wonders if that was the right choice.

The two of them had met by chance in a park one afternoon on the rare day where Spencer wasn’t working. Now, he wasn’t one to believe in fate, be he knew fact. Probability, he figured, as if there were some sort of mathematical equation that could account for the two of them being at the same place at the same time.

Max shifts her body towards Spencer subconsciously as she grabs for the cream and sugar. Spencer can’t help but profile her, noting all the ways in which she was signaling her trust and comfort with him: Max’s legs were crossed in the seat of the chair and she leaned close enough so Spencer could read over her shoulder, though he’d already read the whole page four times over before she had even picked up her pen again. Max tucked her hair behind her ear as she filled in the squares for thirty-two down.

“You know, I can tell when you’re thinking too hard over there” Max chuckles lightly as she eyes Spencer from her peripherals, watching as he sat up stiff as a ramrod, like he was a kid getting caught for doing something he shouldn’t have been.

“H-how can you tell?”

“Are you asking me for a lesson in profiling, Dr. Reid?” Max raises an eyebrow at Spencer and he chuckles in response. Unlike most people who saw Spencer’s ability for long-winded rants as an annoying hindrance or a distraction, Max tended to enjoy just listening to him talk, bracing herself for whatever speech was in store for her with a sarcastic, yet adoring utterance of ‘The doctor’s in…’. That’s what she called him when he was being smart like that, “The Doctor”. Max always felt like she learned something from Spencer, and she appreciated his abundance of knowledge (even if it’s delivery was often ill-timed). But the idea that Spencer could learn something from her barely seemed to cross Max’s mind.

“Try it, let’s see…SSA Brenner” Spencer gets up from his chair quickly, moving to sit across the table from Max like it was an interrogation room and she was talking to an unsub. He sits up straight again and laces his fingers together, trying to look calm and cavalier but really coming across as the opposite. “Profile me” There’s a taunting quality to Spencer’s words that makes Maxine nervous and excited at the same time.

“Spencer Reid, if that’s even your real name!” Max starts out dramatically with a boisterous laugh, completely unsure of how Spencer and his team were able to conduct these kinds of interviews so seamlessly.

Spencer laughs, his foot somehow finding hers under the table. He taps the toe of his well-worn shoe against hers, “C’mon, take it seriously. How are you going to get information out of this guy?” He puts on his fake-tough face and Max tries her best to collect herself.

“I already have it.”

Spencer raises a curious eyebrow. “You already have the information?”

“Yup” Max looks smug as she gazes at Spencer from across the table.

“Well…” Spencer starts, trying to offer her a piece of useful advice but falling short. He wasn’t used to being the one in the hot seat, being profiled by a beautiful woman who kept getting more and more intriguing to him with every morsel she revealed about herself. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“Body language, the oldest tell in the book” Max reveals again, her tone even and confident and absolutely puzzling to Spencer.

“Body language” Spencer repeats in a barely-there whisper.

“You’ve been bouncing your knee since you sat down across from me. You weren’t doing that when you were sitting in this chair” Max gestures to the now-empty seat next to her with a sly smile before she continues. “Now that’s a nervous tick if I ever did see one. Possibly a sign of over-caffeination, but you don’t have to be in the FBI to realize that something…or someone, is making you nervous”

Spencer catches himself before he can start bouncing his knee up and down again, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “Is that it? You catch on to one nervous tick and suddenly it’s the key to the whole mystery, case closed?” Max shakes her head no.

“Also, if you didn’t have anything to hide, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to sit up straight. Your posture is painfully proper, and Spencer, no offense, but you slouch too much” A hint of a smile plays on the corner of Max’s lips.

Spencer can’t seem to find a comment to make about that one.

“You do this thing when you’re thinking too hard, furrowing your eyebrows together until it looks almost painful.” Max finds herself leaning across the table, reaching an arm out to gingerly caress Spencer’s face and smooth out the wrinkle in his brow with the gentle pad of her thumb. “You’re trying to put all of the pieces together and it’s like I can hear your wheels turning but I don’t have any idea what’s going on in your head.” Max gives Spencer a sad sort of smile as she settles back into the chair across from him.

“Everything” Spencer says quietly. “Everything is going on in my head always and sometimes I don’t know how to stop it.” The sudden step towards vulnerability makes Max look up suddenly, accosted by the unabashed honesty that Spencer was giving her.

“Well, maybe if you focus on the ‘good everything,’ the ‘bad everything’ won’t seem so scary in comparison” She shrugs. It seems easier said than done. Spencer had been working with the Behavioral Analysis Unit for over a decade and had probably seen more pain and suffering in one week than Max would see in her entire life. It was probably silly of her to think that the good could outweigh the bad and she would admit that, but she had always been a glass half-full type of person.

“The good everything…” Spencer repeated, mulling it over like he would with a case detail, trying to pick out the patterns and the inconsistencies, trying his best to recall what stuck out to him as being important and why. “Okay I got something”

“Hit me” Max chuckles, leaning closer to Spencer from her spot across the table.

“When I first met you, you were wearing a light blue sweater and that little gold necklace you always wear” His hazel eyes trace over the sharp planes of her collarbones, the necklace’s gold pendant gleaming in the mid-afternoon light. “We bought soft pretzels at the park and you ordered yours with extra salt. You can never get the coffee-to-cream ratio right and that’s why you haven’t touched your coffee in approximately six minutes”

Max laughs and pushes her too-light mug of coffee to the side, resting her chin on top of her hand as she continued to listen to Spencer.

“You always wear shoes that make you taller—“ Max goes to cut off Spencer with an explanation that he already knows, so he holds up a slender finger and continues: “When you were younger, your sister Michelle said that taller shoes would make you look more mature, and you’ve been running with that ever since.” He smiles shyly as he looks up at Max and notices the blush that was threatening to creep up her neck.

Max knew that because of his eidetic memory, he was a very detail-oriented person, but she foolishly assumed that he used his skills the most for work or the reading he did in his downtime. To have all of his detailed recollections be aimed at her made her nervous, she could feel the butterflies taking flight in her stomach and felt a juvenile sense of giddiness in her chest every time Spencer’s eyes met hers. She felt seen, but more importantly she felt known.

“So I guess we’re both pretty good profilers, huh?” Max smiles as she gazes up at Spencer, her foot resting against his under the table.

In a swift moment, Spencer quietly pushes himself out of his chair and rounds the kitchen table to sit next to Max, just like they were earlier. His long arm comes to circle around her shoulders and she instinctually moves to rest her head in the crook of his neck. “Definitely a promising young candidate for the BAU” Spencer jokes, pressing a kiss to her temple and picking up the ballpoint pen that lay resting on the table, turning his attention to the still mostly-blank crossword puzzle.

Three-letter word for someone or something beautiful. Spencer bites at the end of his pen before scribbling his answer.

M-A-X

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x max #maxine brenner x spencer reid #maxine brenner #maxcer #criminal minds imagine

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sebthesnipe · 4 years

Text

How To Hold Your Dragon

February Prompts 2/26

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My Dearest Procyon

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Prompt: Crest / Collect

Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

Roman shifted in his sleep, curling protectively closer around the swaddled bundle in his arms. He had moved from the spot against the tree, where he had been dozing at some point during the night, careful not to jostle Virgil too much.

Patton chewed his bottom lip absently as he stared at the two, concern furrowing his brow. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had messed this whole thing up with his overprotective nature. He shouldn’t have come on so strong when he and Logan had rushed to the men’s aid. He was just so worried at the time.

Roman gave a small shiver, tightening his hold around the raccoon, and drawing it closer against his chest for warmth. Patton gave a squeak at the sight. It was just so adorable! He shifted to dig into the pack next to him, producing a blanket before pushing to his feet.

It was obvious that the dragon meant to cover the two, protecting them from the cool night air but he hesitated. The memory of Roman recoiling from his touch flashed across the forefront of his mind, causing him pause. Did Roman recoil out of fear? Was it just the stress of the moment? Or perhaps, it was disgust. From what Logan had told the smaller man, Roman had the grand notion that dragons were barbaric monsters meant to be slain by knights and heroes. It was no wonder he drew back at Patton’s touch.

“Um… Logan?” the man’s small voice came as he clutched the blanket to his chest, beginning to shake slightly as he glanced down at the witch who was currently taking stock of their provisions.

“Yes, Patton?” Logan replied, too distracted to glance up at the moment.

Patton hesitated, feeling silly about his next request. “Roman looks cold,” he commented.

Logan took a moment to set aside the rations he had been counting before glancing over at the prince briefly. He took in the sight of Patton hovering by the fire, blanket clutched against his chest. For a moment, the image of a small child clinging to a favored stuffed animal for courage came to mind, despite how ridiculous the notion was when compared to the god-like power the man before him possessed. Still, the look on the dragon’s face was disconcerting.

“Perhaps you should offer him the blanket?” Logan offered in confusion. Patton nodded, gaze still on the sleeping prince a few feet away. He didn’t move.

“Patton?” Logan asked softly, studying the way he toyed nervously with the corner of the fabric and how his bottom lip was slightly swollen from the worry of his teeth. “Is everything alright?”

“I just…” the dragon began but paused, unsure of what to say. It was foolish, he knew, but he was scared. What if Roman never warmed up to him again? What if Patton never got to be apart of that bright smile that he always flashed when Patton made a horrible joke? What if he never got to feel one of the man’s overly flamboyant embraces? Roman gave the best hugs! “I just don’t think it would be a good idea if I did it,” he admitted finally turning his attention to the tall witch.

Logan’s confusion only grew at the admission, trying to piece together what could possibly make providing a blanket to someone in need of one a bad idea. Perhaps it was one of those odd social etiquette rulings that he never quite understood. Typically, right about now, Virgil would be chiming in with a sarcastic comment or sassy remark to provide him with some context on the matter. However, given his companion’s state of unconsciousness, it appeared he was on his own for now.

“Isn’t that why you retrieved the bedding to begin with?” Logan asked curiously. The question had Patton’s brows furrowing further, making it appear as if he were about to cry. “Or perhaps the blanket is not the problem!” Logan rushed. He did not handle others crying well. Comfort was most certainly not a strong suit of his.

“C-could…” Patton stuttered, voice cracking softly as he hugged the folded material against his chest. “Could you maybe…” he continued, giving the witch a pleading look as he trailed off.

“Could I take the blanket to him?” Logan clarified, earning another small dip of Patton’s head in affirmation. “Certainly.”

Tension drained from Patton’s shoulders as Logan moved to stand.

The witch offered an outstretched hand to collect the blanket. Patton paused, unsure for only a brief moment before handing it over, wrapping his now empty hands around himself for warmth.

Logan offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile before turning towards the sleeping prince. Patton’s gaze followed the shirtless pagan as he turned his back to the dragon. The wounds were still visible in the moon’s pale light, making discolored patches appeared darker than they had in daylight. The sight was just as disturbing as when Patton had spotted it through the witch’s glamour when they had first met.

Logan unfurled the blanket in one efficient movement before draping it over Roman’s sleeping form, making sure to cover Virgil as well. He knelt to check up on the fur covered beast wrapped in Roman’s cloak.

Logan hid his pain well, but Patton could see through the composed exterior. Each of Logan’s movements were no doubt agonizing. The fact that he managed to hide it so well was impressive. For a human, death would probably be preferable to the torture of a simple breath. So, why then was Logan so determined to survive? What drove him? That was the whole point of the venture wasn’t it; to discover a way for him and Virgil to live without the tie to their master?

Was it revenge? No, Logan didn’t seem the type to be driven by such a dark emotion. Perhaps it was out of spite? No, again that wasn’t very fitting of the man. He certainly was an enigma. There wasn’t much that Patton came across anymore that caused him such confusion. Logan, however, was a puzzle he was looking forward to solving.

The witch straightened once more, the moonlight brushing against the crest of his dark hair, catching on his mismatched eyes. He was very attractive to be sure. It had been quite a long time since Patton had seen anything that could compare. The fact that anyone would wound such a beautiful being in such a way was an atrocity.

“Are you alright, Patton?” Logan asked softly, stopping just short of the smaller individual.

“Hm?” Patton hummed, glancing up from where he had begun to stare off, losing himself in his thoughts. “Oh. Yes! I’m fine! I’m great!” the dragon rushed, perhaps a bit too cherrily.

Logan’s lips pursed into a thin frown at the answer, pausing to consider his response. “Patton, I understand that you are a magnificent creature that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend,” he replied softly, making the shape-shifter glance away with a flush, “but from what I have observed you have the same complex and intense emotions as we humans. Perhaps, even more so. Yet, it appears that you hide them with an overly pleasant exterior."

Patton's frown returned at the accusation, though he took no offense. The fact that Patton was so transparent was just a bit surprising to the man.

"I cannot pretend that I have proficient knowledge or experience with emotions, but I can assume that keeping those feeling bottled up cannot be healthy. It is okay to feel things that are not pleasant. Virgil once informed me, and forgive me for the terminology, ‘Feeling like…" Logan hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea of cursing in front of the smaller man. Despite the knowledge that Patton was an ancient being capable of phenomenal cosmic magic, he always seemed so innocent to the witch. "’S-shit’," he stuttered, gauging the dragon's reaction curiously. Patton offered a small upturn of his lips in amusement, spurring Logan to continue, "Feeling like shit can be good because it makes the good feelings better than they were before,’” that earned a small huff of laughter from the small man. “While the phrasing is a bit unpolished, I believe he had a point.”

Patton rubbed his upper arm absently as the man spoke. Logan was intelligent beyond his years, that much was clear. For someone that claimed to be ignorant of a lot of things, Logan understood Patton more than he had expected. The fact that the witch was not only brave enough to point out his disillusion, but was obviously trying to comfort him about it was endearing.

Logan took Patton’s silence as an indication of the witch’s overstep and tensed. “Of course, it is completely likely that I am mistaken. I cannot pretend to know-”

“Logan,” Patton chuckled, finally meeting his gaze with a soft smile, “It’s fine, kiddo. You’re not mistaken,” he reassured.

Logan relaxed slightly at the reassurance, offering his own smile in return. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“I dunno,” the dragon shrugged, ducking his head in embarrassment. “It’s kind of a lot and I don’t like icky feelings. I prefer the happy fun ones that make everyone smile,” he added, forcing a grin as he bounced on his heels for emphasis, “I just… don’t know if I can provide those right now,” he sighed.

“Well,” Logan offered, “perhaps, since it is just you and me at the moment, you can allow yourself to properly manage those ‘icky’ feelings?” he offered, with an arched brow.

Patton’s softed smile returned as he peered up at the taller man. “Yeah… I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Good,” Logan huffed mirroring the soft expression as he lifted his arms. “Perhaps, an embrace might be preferable?” he offered, unsure if this was the appropriate course of action.

However, the suggestion had Patton instantly beaming. Logan had never offered him a hug before! In fact, He had never seen the man offer anyone a hug before! Only Roman had ever allowed Patton to hug him!

The dragon preened, feet dancing as he bounced from one to another in his excitement, hands lifting to his mouth, digits tapping against the giant grin that split his face. A screech escaping him, high pitched enough that Logan was certain only dogs could hear.

If that wasn’t affirmation enough, the dragon proceeded to launch himself into the witch’s embrace, arms tucked in close against his chest, far too conscious of the man’s wounds to return the embrace himself.

Logan grunted at the impact, giving a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest as his limbs locked around the small form. Patton instantly melted, his own heat seeping into Logan’s cool skin pleasant as they stood next to the fire. Despite Patton’s immeasurable power, he somehow felt safe in the witch’s hold, as though even his own nightmares couldn’t touch him there.

Patton had been so inequivalently wrong; Logan definitely gave the best hugs (but Roman was a close second).

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly

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