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fandomtcikles · 1 year

Note

Hellooo! If it is prompts you need, then prompts I shall deliver >:)

“What’s with the bad mood? I think that may need to be remedied…”

with ler!Thor and lee!Loki? :)

(sending love <3)

Eeeeh thank you so much for the request @just-a-fluffy-knight, I loved this one. You always give the best prompts my love!

Hope you guys enjoy this! It’s just a little Drabble of everyone’s favourite Asgardian brothers

Not in the mood

Warnings - none

Word count - 1.4k

“Greetings brother”, Thor declared as he waltzed his way into the lounge area, and flopped onto the couch that his slightly less cheerful brother was already lounging on, in a hopeful attempt for some peaceful reading. So much for that plan he thought to himself, as the oversized golden retriever that was his older brother flopped far too close to him for his liking on the equally oversized couch. He only huffed in annoyance and shifted away, in yet another attempt for some personal space.

“Must you do that”, he grumbled. Thor only chuckled in return, “yes I must dear brother”.

“Wonderful”, Loki threw his head back dramatically, rolling his eyes, before returning to his book. Thor chuckled again, “do you really find me that intolerable?”. Loki never even lifted his eyes from the page he was on, and yet they still told Thor everything he needed to know. “I sincerely doubt you want me to answer that honestly” he sighed, the annoyance lying heavy in his voice.

Thor wasn’t having this; he was used to being the happier of the pair but even he knew something was different today with Loki, and as he was the older brother, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

“What’s with the bad mood brother? I think that may need to be remedied...”, mischief lacing his voice, and an unsettling smirk gracing his face. This did not go unnoticed by Loki, who despite his best efforts to pretend he didn’t notice, subconsciously shifted even further away from Thor, so that he was now pressed right against the side of the couch, nervously turning the page of his book. Thor wasn’t exactly wrong. He hadn’t exactly been having the best day so far, hence his mood and attempt at trying to find some peace and quiet. However, it had escaped his mind that as his brother, Thor knew him well enough to know when something was wrong, and worryingly for Loki, Thor had a preferred method when it came to bringing his younger brother out of his moods, despite Loki’s numerous protests against it in the past. And judging by the mischievous glint in his brothers' eyes, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right to be nervous, especially as he noticed Thor making his way closer towards him.

“Thor, I assure you I am not in the mood for any childish games right now”, as he attempted to back even further into the couch. However, Thor was not away to give up that easily. “Oh, come on Loki we both know you could do with some cheering up today”, making his way closer to Loki still. “Thor, I assure you that is not necessary”, the panic in his voice becoming evidently clearer, as Thor neared closer still, until he managed to get close enough to Loki to pin his arms to his sides with his knees, before he ever got the chance to escape.

“Thor this is childish nonsense that we are much too old for, must this be the way it always goes!”, Loki frantically rambled, as he desperately tried to squirm his way out of Thor’s iron grip. Thor in turn let out a hearty laugh, “you know I might ask you the same thing brother”. Loki shot him an incredulous look, “I beg your pardon”, he questioned, still attempting to worm his way free.

“Loki you are the God of Mischief; a man known for his tricks and illusions, whilst being cunning and sneaky. You’d think a man capable of such feats would be able to escape a situation like this easily, why not rely on your illusions or teleportation's to escape if you truly hate it so much, rather than this child like display of strength”.

Loki went to make a snarky remark to immediately defend himself but found himself unable to do so. As Thor said despite him being known for his deceptions, he found he was unable to explain why he hadn’t truly chosen to escape all the times when Thor had subjected him to this childish torture. Unfortunately, he didn’t get much time to ponder on this, as his train of thought was abruptly disrupted when he felt two strong hands digging into his ribs, causing him to bark out a surprised laugh.

“THOR STOP THIS AT ONCE THIS IS UTTERYLY RIDI-”, he was cut off yet again by his own surprised laughter as a result of Thor suddenly leaving his ribs, only for him to start digging into Loki’s bony hips. Loki attempted another snarky remark, but the unbearable ticklish jolts shooting through him rendered him useless of any strength or ability to speak he may have previously had, much to Thor’s amusement.

“Face it brother, we both know you need this”, and with that, he went in for the kill. Using one hand to knead into Loki’s hip, whilst his other hand spidered its way across his other hip, and up and down his side multiple times before kneading into his ribs. Any hope Loki may have had to escape this situation with any part of his dignity still intact vanished, as he got lost in the million maddening sensations jolting through him, rendering his mind essentially useless and only allowing him to throw his head back in pure unfiltered laughter, as he continued to be subjected to the torturous feeling.

“THOR-” he finally managed to wheeze out in between frantic peals of laughter, as Thor continued to knead into his hip, whilst his other hand had begun to spider up and down his sides and stomach, both torturously light but also with enough pressure for it to still tickle like hell. It was no secret that Thor was enjoying this, knocking his usually stoic arrogant little brother down a few pegs with a few squeezes to his sides. However, he also had the feeling that he was not the only one enjoying it, as Loki was still yet to try and make a proper escape, or any escape for that matter, proving to Thor that he had been right all along, which he couldn’t help but smile at. Loki certainly could have his moods, but at the end of the day he was still his little brother.

Thor couldn’t help but smile at this, and looked down at his younger brother who was still in hysterics, and decided to finally have pity on him, at least for the moment. Slowing to gentle rubs on his sides, Loki’s laughter eventually slowed down as well as he finally regained his breath, uncontrollable giggles still spilling out. “I still think that was ridiculous” he managed to wheeze out, his voice hoarse from laughing so much.

“Careful how you speak brother” Thor warned him playfully, squeezing just above his knee, causing Loki to let out another wheeze that spiraled into yet more giggles.

“THOR”

Thor only laughed. “I’m sorry Loki that was just too easy”. To which Loki only grumbled, but even he couldn’t help the small smile that was tugging at his lips. Just as Thor had realized, this did bring back fond memories for Loki as well. There were countless memories of them as kids where Thor would pull one of these attacks on Loki to see him smile, and to ensure he never felt left out. These attacks would often consist of Thor pinning down Loki and going for his death spots. Loki couldn’t help but shudder slightly thinking about all the times when Thor would go after one of his worst spots. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by Thor now.

“What are you thinking about brother?”.

“Well, I still believe that was completely unnecessary” he grinned. Thor only smiled and rolled his eyes. “I do believe you were still ever so slightly more merciful than when we were children, for which I am... somewhat grateful I suppose” still grinning.

Thor thought for a moment before all those beloved childhood memories came crashing back to him as well, which gave him an idea. “Ah yes, I do believe your neck used to be rather sensitive didn’t it... hhmm I wonder if that is still the case”, and without any warning, he dipped his head into the crook of Loki’s neck, blowing an enormous raspberry causing Loki to wheeze once more.

“THOR”

“I’m sorry brother that was the last one, I promise”. He smirked. Loki, still giggling slightly, only rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m sure it was brother”.

#marvel tickle #ler!Thor #lee!loki #Loki tickle #Thor Tickle #tickle fluff

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eyes-of-mischief · 2 years

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weekly fic recs | 18

prompt: dimension travel (no crossover)

fandoms: bnha, dc, hp, hq, tgcf, tw

bnha

release the dogs of war by IceEckos12

Izuku is a dimension hopper who accidentally breaks his arm after a rough jump, leaving him helpless in this strange new world.

And then he finds out about the superpowers. Well if he wants to get specific, quirks.

If there's one place where a super-powered quasi-immortal technology stealing jerk would be hanging out...

once forgotten, twice removed by blueh

“Yes,” All for One agreed. “This will be the final resting place of All Might.”

“You,” Midoriya Izuku said and paused, thinking over the words. He sounded taken aback. “You want me to help fight All Might.”

“Of course,” All for One nodded along. “I can offer you double of whatever my counterpart is paying you currently, along with anything your little heart could desire. Of course, you would get to help out drastically—"

“Did you happen to check what world you were pulling me out of when you did this?” Midoriya Izuku interrupted and it was said in such an incredulous tone that had the situation not been as critical as it was, All Might would have laughed.

Also known as: number one hero Deku has been through a lot of things, but being thrust into an alternate reality where he’s All for One’s Successor is a first. He has to navigate this world when his alternate self is a villain who's dead-set on killing him and this version of class 1-A. All the while, his friends search desperately for a way to get him back.

Life Happens by Cdelphiki

While walking home from an event at Wayne Enterprises, Tim and Damian are kidnapped and sent to an alternate dimension. In a world where superheroes are merely comic book characters and the idea of the multiverse is only a theory found within the pages of science fiction, how are Tim and Damian going to return home? How long will they be stranded on this strange Earth? And will the boys murder each other before they figure it out?

Roasted by widdlewed

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence, major character death)

After finally escaping the Court, Talon knew he could't be a Hero. Not with his past. Not with all the death and blood and lives he'd stolen.

So he decided to do the next best thing.

He opened up a café.

Throughout Infinity by flumen

Damian Wayne did not anticipate going into the mission that he'd find himself in an alternate universe where his father is still Batman and there's an eerily similar (but thirteen year old) version of his partner/mentor/guardian/brother? who has somehow managed to find himself another pack of incompetent superhero associates just as intensely irritating as the ones Damian's familiar with and borderline suspects him of being an illegal Cadmus clone but...

...well...

...sometimes life just plays out like that. And he'll be damned if he doesn't find a way home to his actual partner before he manages to impale himself on his own cowl or something equally ridiculous. Honestly. A sort of Damian time travel fic except he finds himself in the universe just after season 1 of Young Justice. Misadventures ensue.

the fate you aim at me (series) by nex_et_nox

Red Hood gets tossed into the Young Justice dimension -- just in time to save Robin from being murdered by the Joker.

Then, of course, everyone has to deal with the aftermath.

Transporter is a Stupid Name by KagSesshlove

Dick and Jason lose their little brothers.

Robin finds them.

C'est La Vie by cywscross

The war ends on Harry's twenty-first Halloween, and, one year later, with nothing truly holding him in that world, Fate takes this opportunity to toss her favourite hero into a different dimension to repay her debt. A new, stress-free life in exchange for having fulfilled her prophecy. A life where Neville is the Boy-Who-Lived instead, James and Lily are still alive, and that Harry Potter is relatively normal but a downright arse. Dimension-travelling Harry just wants to know why he has no say in the matter. And why he's fourteen again. And why Fate thinks, in all her infinite wisdom, that his hero complex won't eventually kick in. Then again, that might be exactly why Fate dumped him there.

Powerful Men by Lomonaaeren

Tom didn’t know whose idea it was that a mysterious man who had walked out of the Veil of Death should be the guest lecturer for Defense Against the Dark Arts while Professor Merrythought dealt with some kind of magical emergency, but he could thank them. And curse them. Henry Evans changes Tom’s life.

Spending all, spending all my time (loving you) by Hyeyu

The fastest speed ever recorded for a volleyball serve is 82 mph by the Bulgarian professional Matey Kaziyski. Bokuto’s own serve is around 75 mph on a good day. The stranger in the empty concrete lot behind Bokuto’s apartment building receives 72.4 mph of volleyball with the side of his head.

In which Bokuto Koutarou plays volleyball at university, and Akaashi Keiji is a dimension traveller.

tgcf

Instead of Dreaming, You Overflow by timetoboldlygo

Xie Lian had never traveled in his dreams before now. Never opened his eyes and found a different bedroom, different people, a different life. But he had heard of this curse long ago. A curse about people who could glimpse opportunities, other lives. Their souls would travel as they slept.

The only person he had known affected by it was a man whose wife had died. In his dreams, he saw her a thousand times, a thousand worlds where she had lived, and woke up in the world where she had not. Perhaps Xie Lian, too, had a traveler’s soul now, seeking out his Hua Cheng while he waited.

But Xie Lian was not grieving. He was only waiting until Hua Cheng was back and he would have no need for dreams.

At World's End (Another Begins) by cywscross

If Talia were here, she would roll her eyes and say, “He has to put up with you. Of course it would take someone literally from another world.”

But Peter likes to think he just has high standards. Especially since Stiles always gets so adorably smug when he says as much.

#prompt is kinda wack but if you read the fics you'll get what i mean #weekly fic recs #prompt #dimension travel #bnha fic recs #dc fic recs #hq fic recs #hp fic recs #tw fic recs #tgcf fic recs

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rcksmith · 3 years

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Rules — Kaz Brekker

Requests: “Your works is incredibly good, masterpiece. Can you please smut with Kaz Brekker and prompts 34, 37, 47? Using your rules, they are wonderful. I will really wait))”

“could u do #39 with kaz???ignore if ur not comfortable with this!!”

“Hello, just binge read your kaz brekker smuts and they are amazing! Was wondering if you could do something with smut prompts 34,84,&72?”

Smut prompts:

34. “You’d better watch your fucking mouth.”

37. “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

“39. “You keep acting like a little brat and I’ll take you over my knee right here, I don’t care how many people are watching.”

47. “You look so good on your knees like that.”

72. “Fuck you.” 1. “I’m up for it if you are.”

84. “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, NSFW,explicit heavy smut, dirty talk, dom!Kaz.

Word count: 2k.

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

Thank you so much for the requests and for all affection 💖 I decided to compile these requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. I hope you like it and good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are closed. Love you❤️

— — — —

There were two types of people in the world. The dangerous ones, with whom shouldn't play or challenge, people who are able to see and set your soul on fire with a single look, who exude power and domination with the way they walk. And there were people who loved to play with danger, with fire. People who felt the adrenaline pump in their veins and loved the feeling of being messing with something forbidden. Overcoming limits, challenging people on power.

Kaz Brekker was the first type of person. And you were second.

He was intimidating, dark and dangerous. An aura of mystery adored him like an underworld selvedge, and his caustic and intense gaze could very well be bought from what Lucifer cast around the world after The Fall. It was amazing how he hadn't left a trail of rubble where that gaze passed. People feared him, obeyed him, responded to his orders with astonishing precision. Everyone, but not you.

The surest comparison to define you would be to buy Jesper. Both with social personality, adrenaline addiction and seduction in their eyes. But you were a little more than that. More impulsive, more reckless, and more provocative. While Jesper knew all too well when to step back and keep your mouth shut, you refused to bow to Dirty Hands. Not because it was proud, but because it was fun, thought-provoking. Addictive. Every cell in your body felt extremely alive when you are under Kaz Brekker's dominant, angry, and dangerous gaze. He giving you a clear warning that you were swimming in turbulent water, but you were just plunging deeper into his waves.

You wanted to push him to the edge, the exasperation, to see what was really underneath that cold face and serious. Kaz could very well be the boss of the famous gang you were part of, but his rank wasn't enough to stop you. Never would be.

"Frankly, I just don't care." You told Jesper and Nina in one night, downing a shot of vodka.

"What?!" She looked at you dumbfounded. "Kaz is your boss and you argued with him about his plan!"

Nina looked alarmed, but all you felt was adrenaline and pleasure.

“Because it was a nonsense plan and…”

“What nonsense plan?”

And there was Kaz. With his height and his black underworld clothes, with his Lucifer gaze and mouth made for sin. You wanted him to sin. But you wanted l him sin with you.

Jesper and Nina soon stuttered trying to make up an excuse, but you weren't given to lies.

“Yours, in this morning.” Jesper looked like he wanted to stick his head in the dirt after your comment.

Then, once again, that fervent gaze was upon you, and every pulse in your body frantically pumped blood through your veins.

“Don't think I didn't notice your inability to follow rules, Y/n.” It was a warning.

“Oh I don't have a problem following rules “You rested your chin in your palm, with your elbow on the table, and held his fervent gaze, “,but only when they make sense. So that's the only way I can be very obedient, Sir.”

You heard Nina gasp, but your eyes didn't leave Kaz's. There was much more to that look than met the world could see. There was war for control, battles and ferocity. Kaz Brekker wanted to break you in half in that eye contact, but you wouldn't budge because a look. If he wanted you on your knees, you would be very happy to do it, but it would have to be the right way.

Kaz leaned toward you, closer enough for no one else to hear what he was going to say but far enough away that his mouth wouldn't touch your ear.

"You keep acting like a little brat and I'll take you over my knee right here, I don't care how many people are watching."

After that, the sexual tension between the two of you was suffocating, so thick it could have been cut with a knife. But nobody did anything to placate it, and you two just let it get bigger. Bigger and bigger. Until it's too late.

And in one night, it was too late.

"I won't do this just because you want to!" You crossed your arms over your chest.

Kaz wanted you to kidnap one of a mobster's kids to act as security when making a deal, but you wasn't going to kidnap anyone.

“You work for me.”

“No, I work with you.” It was a lie, but you didn't budge. “Don't think I'm here for lack of choice, Brekker. You need me as a vital member of this team and don't forget we're on an equal footing.”

His blue eyes turned almost black. Kaz Brekker rose from his office desk.

“Do you really think you're going to tell me how to act? Think you're gonna boss me around? Well, I don't think so.” His speech was slow and hot and dangerous, like that of a hunter prowling his prey and contemplating how pathetic you attempts to fight were.

“I don't give a damn what you think.” Your whole body was throbbing with life in that moment, as if fireworks had exploded in your chest. “But I won't do what you're ordering.”

"Fuck you." His voice was a growl.

A spot between your legs vibrated, and you gripped the taunt tightly. "I'm up for it if you are."

That seemed to be the pinnacle. The air crackled, the world shuddered, and Kaz's eyes roared with the flames of hell. He walked towards your with three long, purposeful strides, grabbed your chin in his gloved hand and brought you close to his mouth like you were just a rag doll.

Your breath burned in lungs, your unrestrained heart grew stronger and your entire body shivered. A low moan caught in your throat, but you could feel the warm, pulsing liquid stain your panties.

"You’d better watch your fucking mouth." Kaz's voice was husky, strong and gruff, like a boss. Your boss.

Pleasure invaded your body like waves of electricity, stealing your breath and making your blood burn in veins like scalding lava. Your whole body vibrated, screamed, begged. You wanted to disobey and be dominated. You wanted to fight and be defeated. You wanted to play rebellious and be demoted to a good girl.

And your desires must have been very explicit and pleading in your eyes, because Kaz let his lips curve into a cocky, smug smile. The smile of someone who knows he has power.

"You are such a hypocrite." He brought his body close to your. "Saying you're not easily obedient, likes others to think you're provocative and rebellious, but you're just a needy kid wanting my attention."

You moaned this time. A broken and delivered sound that gave away your entire game.

"I'm not one of the men you can challenge and get along with."

"I didn't think you was." You tried to rescue the last spark of provocation, your last fire of insolence.

“And yet you test me. Because you know what I can do with you.”

His husky words hit your skin, and Kaz pulled your chin more closer, until your lips were able to swallow his words. “Because you know I can break you.”

The moan came loud this time, desperate and needy. Kaz hadn't even touched you properly and you already felt ready to combust.

“Y-yes.” But if you were desperate, Kaz was burning with dangerous fury.

“I'm so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

Then his hand slipped from your jaw and stuck to the silky hairs on the back of your neck, closing his fingers there and bringing you with him to the armchair Kaz had been sitting in seconds ago.

They weren't sweet, affectionate, or kind touches, but that wasn't what you were looking for. You wanted roughness, fury, raw and strength. You wanted something wild, wanted had marks on your body the other day to tell a story. You weren't a woman who settled for the basics and wanted someone able to show you what a real fuck was. You wanted to be broken. And Kaz Brekker could give you that.

He sat down in the leather armchair and pulled you to the floor, settling you on your knees on the floor between his long, masculine legs. The awareness of what was to come filled your mouth with water, with desire, with lust, and you found yourself already leaning your mouth closer and... Kaz pulled your hair back, not hard, but firmly, keeping you away from his dick. For a while.

“Are you so eager to get my dick yet?” His free hand, now ungloved, glided to your face, running his thumb across your cheek in a firm, possessive touch. “Of course you are. Greedy slut."

Then came a slap. It wasn't aggressive, but you could feel the heat on your cheek. Your panties have never been so wet as they are now.

“S-Sir f-fuck.”

It was a plea, a whimper or a moan, you didn't know anymore. All you could feel was your pussy throbbing, mouth salivating and the overwhelming desire to put his cock in your mouth. It all hit you so hard that you wanted to cry with the wait.

Kaz lowered his mouth to your, slamming their lips together in a rough, brutal, dictating kiss. He invaded with his tongue and conquered everything you had, rubbing the hot flesh of your tongue in an erotic, maddening dance.

"Let me show you what happens to little brats who don't follow the rules." It was his sentence after back away his lips from your.

Unbuttoning his black pants with one hand and pulling the waistband down along with the boxers, he released the throbbing cock that sprang out with glory and grandeur. Thick, streaked with veins and with a pink head swollen and leaking with pre-cum. Everything about Kaz Brekker was delicious. Your moan at the sight was an opportunity that wasn't passed up. Kaz pulled your head by the back of your neck toward his dick, sinking into the velvety, warm, wet cavity of your mouth.

You accepted it readily, almost in desperation, tasting its taste with his tongue and sucking on his head like your favorite lollipop. Kaz moaned loudly, letting his head fall back and loosening his grip on your hair. Your eyes lifted to him, and the sight made you clench your thighs to ease the arousal.

His broad chest covered by the black button-down shirt rose and fell faster, his smooth white neck was exposed, and his firm jaw was clenched with fury. Brekker looked like the god of the underworld. And you loved it.

Your mouth suck to his cock better, increasing the back and forth movements and leaving a trail of hot sage. One hand rested on Kaz's thigh while the other aided the movements, spreading all the saliva down the length of his cock.

“You look so good on your knees like that.” His voice was more of a growl, and his grip on your hair went back to being firm.

You brought your eyes up to his once more, batting your lashes gracefully as you let out a few broken moans, sliding your tongue across every inch of his warm skin you could reach. Kaz gritted his teeth with your puppy dog eyes. Losing all control and letting out a loud growl mixed with an aggressive curse, he thrust your head at him, sinking his entire dick into your hot mouth and hitting the glans at the beginning of your throat.

You gasped and he moaned loudly, increasing the back and forth and building with the movements of his own hips, fucking your mouth like it was the most delicious thing in the world.

"Fucking hell, what a velvet mouth!" He locked his teeth into his lower lip, using his free hand to slide his thumb across your cheek and give you a reward in the form of a small caress. "That's right, good girl."

You moaned, squinting your eyes and relaxing your throat. His compliment has done wonders for your feminine ego and your vanity, you've sunk your mouth down to touch the tip of your nose to his pelvis, and the grip on your hair has become rough as Kaz moaned loudly in a session of swearing and gasping.

He held you in that position, his whole body shaking with pleasure and despair, blood pumping like boiling lava through his saturated veins. With one last moan mixed with growl, he cum in your throat. In hot, strong jets, making sure you take every last drop. He tasted like salt, man and lust. And it was a miracle you didn't cum right away. The best liquid you've ever had.

Kaz released your hair with a hot gasp, and the hand on your cheek gently pulled you back. His dick came out of your mouth with a 'pop', saliva and tears mingled in your chin, your lips swollen and as red as roses at their apex.

You've never been so fucking delicious as you are now.

Brekker pulled you into his lap, settling you on his thigh and locking their mouths in a kiss permeated with lust and desire. You whimpered, body sensitive, pussy throbbing and throbbing. Your hands went to his hair as Brekker pulled the hem of your skirt up.

"Now, you're going to keep showing me how much you regret being insolent."

You smiled with teasing and malice. The night was just beginning.

#kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker au #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone au #kaz x y/n #kaz brekker x oc #inejgayfa #jesper fahey #matthias x nina #freddy carter x y/n #freddy carter smut #freddy carter x reader #freddy carter x you

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

earned it [02]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. mentions of murder, suggestive content, unedited fic

notes. err, i’m only doing this on impulse. i would like to continue it, but i think part one stands enough for itself :> i might delete this if i don’t like it a few days later lollll

series masterlist

Your infamous customer hadn’t arrived even as the restaurant closed. You watched close enough, fidgety in your movements and often bumping into other servers, all because your gaze kept darting back to the front door, awaiting his presence.

There’s no actual reason why you want to see him. Maybe it’s because he left an impression? The guy didn’t even budge after finding out someone had snuck into the kitchen to poison him, leaving you to wonder why anyone wanted to kill him. Not that it was any of your business, but you figured it was only common between powerful people who are equally greedy. Still, you’re unfocussed in your work, apologizing every now and then when your boss shook their head at you.

Thankfully, you managed to get back to your old pace. Thoughts of the white-haired tall man left the room at the same time everyone did, leaving only you and your boss in the locker room. You ended up working two shifts again on this weekend, your co-worker asking you to cover for them due to sudden family issues.

It’s tiring, that much is for sure, but you won’t complain when it’s more money down in your pocket. You’re dazzled, however, as you leave the locker room and see that your main chefs are still there.

Upon seeing you, they immediately usher you into a lone table, table 98 that remained untouched the whole night, a two lit candles illuminating the otherwise darkness of the isolated restaurant. Only this time, it’s occupied by him no less, his azure eyes flittering up to yours at the sound of your hesitant footsteps.

You’ve been looking for him the whole night, yet now that he’s in front of you, you don’t have any words to say. Instead, you bow down deep, the hands clasped in your lap shaking.

“S-Sir.”

“No need to be so nervous. I only wish to discuss something with you,” his laugh is so carefree, lighthearted as he gestures to the empty spot across him. “Take a seat,” Wordlessly, you foolow his orders and dash down to the seat, spine straight and head held high. There’s a hint of amusement in his small smile, but he doesn’t tease you, save for the lilting tone he held. “So you’re in sophomore year of university?”

“Yes, Sir. How’d you know?” You furrowed your brows, unsure of whether you’re supposed to expensive meal served in two.

Gosh, and this was on page three too, a single meal cost at least six months’ worth of rent.

“I pulled a string or two,” he lifts one shoulder lazily, waving his knife in the air. “And please, call me Satoru. Assuming we come to an understanding, things will go well for the both of us. You are in need of financial aid, yes?” You nod, utterly clueless in where this is leading, but Satoru’s already made up his mind long before he came here that he found no need in beating around the bush.

“Good. Then what do you say about being my sugar baby?”

“S-sugar baby?” you repeat the word first in confusion, then with distaste. He simply hums around the meat he’s eating, as if it’s a normal occurrence for him to inquire such things, and you scoff, crossing your arms on your chest.

You don’t care that this guy is your precious customer – he was just the same as everyone else.

“Is that the reason why you asked me to stay behind? Do you think you can just pay people to sleep with you? It may have worked on others, but not to me. I would rather keep my dignity than be with you,” you breathe hard after your rant, slapping your palms down on the table. The impact of it makes the table shake, his hand reflexively reaching to steady his wine glass. “As for what happened yesterday, you don’t have to thank me about it. I did what any right-minded person would.”

“And if I said I never wanted to be saved?” he asks, his tone still so calm that it further infuriates you. You stare at him, stunned and mouth gaping. “Sit down. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Thank you for graciousness, Sir, but I really don’t—”

“Angel,” You freeze at the nickname. He chuckles with his forehead pressed to his clasped hands, “Do you really think I need to pay people to sleep with me? I could have anyone I want,” his voice falls an octave or two, the sonorous warning rumbling something…alien inside your body. You stand there, unable to move, and he easily sees through this as he hides a smirk behind his drink. “Sit down. I’m not done talking to you.”

You don’t know what snapped in you to actually follow, but his words weren’t just that. They were always laced with eased dominance, the words leaving his lips coming out as a command. No, it was more like a hypnotizing order, and you’re nothing but a puppet enslaved by it.

His smile only grows bigger, and you hate that he looks ridiculously handsome under the dim lights of the room. Life would’ve been much easier if this man had been ugly.

“As I was saying, this relationship should be casual, no strings attached. I’d prefer if you’re exclusive to me, and in return, I’ll cover all your school fees and everything else. As for the sex,” he cuts his eyes straight to yours, an intense burning heat in them. You squirm in your seat, a little intimidated, albeit excited, by this proposition too, though you’d rather die than let him know that, “I don’t need that from you. I just want someone to talk to.”

“You’re paying me to talk to you?”

“No,” he chuckles, “I’m saying you form a relationship with me in exchange of financial aid. You’d be similar to a lover, nothing less of a friend,” he stares at his drink so hard like he was having a debate with it. A few seconds later, he found his answer, the gleam in his eyes surreptitious as he says, “Someone I can trust.”

You huff. Surely it wasn’t easy as that. “Why me?”

“No reason,” he shrugged, “I just find you endearing, that is all,” You lean back on your seat, trying to process all this. The hesitance must be written all over your face because he adjusts his tie, sliding a white business card your way before sliding his chair back in. At least he’s well-mannered enough to do that. “You can take your time to think about it. There’s no need to rush.”

Somehow, seeing his figure retreat triggers something within you. You watch as silhouettes emerge from the darkness trail after him; must be his security team, serving as an additional note that what you so struggled to achieve was likely nothing for him.

Was it fear? Desperation? Shame?

You don’t know, you won’t ever really know, but you run up to him anyway, brave enough to tug at his sleeve. The guards surrounding him tense up at the contact, stepping away only when he raises a finger that spoke a thousand words.

“You-you’ll pay for everything?”

With his back turned to you, you failed to see that victorious grin he wore. “And everything more,” he reassured. He turns around to confirm your submission, but you’re quivering under his towering frame, poor hands clutched around the card so tightly he won’t be surprised if you break it. He chuckles, coaxing the worries out of you as he caresses your cheek, his breath evident of expensive liquor hitting your cheeks. “Relax, angel. It’s not like you’re selling your soul to the devil.”

Your pupils blow wide at the close proximity. If he was attractive before, it’s nothing compared to the clarity of his sharp, angular features that are softened by his playful smile. Oddly enough, his thumb caressing your cheeks is tender yet calloused.

There’s no telling when who put who under a spell, because you’re clutching helplessly at his suit jacket, whispering, “Am I not?”

You are, he wants to say, but you’re so innocent, so vulnerable – such an angel, he can’t help but hum in his head – that he doesn’t have the heart to let you know. He already knew things were bound to fall out of place one another, but until that hasn’t happened yet, he’ll have to keep you close. He’ll make you his.

“I’ll take good care of you,” he declares so confidently that you couldn’t even question his capability to do so you, and for a moment, just a moment, your knees weaken under his stare. “Now that, I can promise.”

Should you have pulled away then? When he leaned down to seal the contract with a kiss, should you have pulled away then? Or better yet, could you even pull away then?

You’ve been so alone your whole life that each moment with him is awakening, soul-crushing, mind-shattering and so damn weakening that you should’ve pulled away then. If anyone were to tell you you’d share your first kiss after work hours with a man whose name you don’t even know of, you’d tell them they were crazy, crazier if they claimed you would enjoy it.

But you did. Oh, you did, you were addicted to him – his taste, his scent, his touch, everything about him – that when he pulled away, taking away every last breath in your lung that formerly remained taint-free by him, you’re left wanting. Craving.

And he knows this. How could he not? Your eyes are hazy with lust, chest pressed against his firm ones that would soon be the same body you found home over and over again. You’re not the only left intoxicated from this sudden agreement. Whatever you feel, he feels it twice as much after years of watching you from the sidelines, asking himself a million times over what it is about you that pulled him in so much in the first place.

The innocence? The dedication? The youthful naivety?

Gojo wants to laugh at himself. It was never any of those – he simply wanted to fool himself that maybe he’s worthy of this, of your love, of your purity. He’s selfish, manipulative, heartless, and he wants nothing more than someone like you to make him feel like he’s everything he’s not.

He steps forward to brush his nose against yours; breathing in the tiny gasps you reward him with. And he’s barely even touched you.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he rasps, butterfly touches all the way down your back to hold you flush against him, letting you feel that he’s all muscle and hardness, while you’re the complete opposite, composed of softness and little ghosting kisses. Perhaps when he gives you by a name, he was right to call you – “My Angel.”

The loud blaring of your alarm cuts through the silence of the room, its shrill sound piercing your ears. You groan, blindly patting the bedside table to swipe snooze. The spot next to you has been cold for a while now, but it’s normal for Satoru to leave early for work that you burrow yourself deeper in the covers. Five more minutes of sleep shouldn’t be so bad; it’s the weekend, anyway. You’ve got nothing else to do.

Waking up after that, on the other hand, now that is an impending task on itself.

You’re beyond sore, your inner thighs littered with handprints and your shoulder covered in love bites. “Jeez,” you mutter to yourself, stepping out of the bathroom. Tying your robe around you, you go out your shared bedroom, rubbing your eyes to get the sleep out.

It’s past noon already – Satoru really wore you out. And fuck, you could barely walk. You had to grip the counters just to sit on the stools, and even then, you’re wincing from the pain.

He should be doing paperwork in his office right now or something; he never really told you what to do. You don’t feel like asking either since he’s made it clear he prefers to keep his personal life, well…personal. But nevertheless, you swing your legs back and forth on the stool, texting him a quick I love you baby :)

Satoru doesn’t reply.

Usually, he’d respond in a few minutes, always supplied with a wink and an eggplant emoji. It was so him to act this way, that when those few minutes turned into a few hours and you’re met with radio silence, you can’t help but worry.

You try to brush it off, ignoring the deafening silence that rings all over his penthouse. He’s busy, he’s working, he’s got things to do – that’s all it is.

You convince yourself hard enough that you’ve cleaned the place until it’s sparkling, your reflection bouncing off the black marble floors. Every minute, though, your mind would race back to him. Not thinking about him proved to be a really daunting task because you think of him when you’re eating, reminiscing the way he’d always surprise you with a back hug, muttering morning angel all over your skin just to distract you from your meal. You think of him as you’re killing time with boring dramas; if he was here, he’d nudge your leg with his foot, pushing your shorts until it exposes your panties. He’d make sure you don’t get to focus at all, riling you up and kissing you hard that the show playing becomes nothing but background noise. You think of him, you dream of him, you remember him – and yet, you can’t feel him.

Nails bitten down to the skin, you scramble for your phone, swiping call over his contact. It doesn’t go through. Now that’s another odd thing; Satoru never fails to pick up your calls.

“He’s just busy,” you lie to yourself, telling the same thing over and over again even as night falls and you’re staring at the empty left side of the bed, hands smoothing over where the curve of his body would’ve been. “He’s just busy,” you say once more, giving into the exhaustion brought on by your worries. ��He’ll come home soon. He always will.”

Except he didn’t.

And that was two weeks ago.

“Angel, I got you—” Satoru immediately clamps his shut, his footsteps muted as he walks closer to you. You’ve been dating for a few months now, and you’re still very wary of the nature of your relationship so you refuse to move in with him. He doesn’t mind, he respects your space and decisions, but now he’s starting to regret letting you have your way. You’re hunched over your swiveling chair, cheek pressed against the opened textbook and glasses perched on your hair. The lamp desk illuminates the dark circles lining your eyes, his heart breaking at the sight.

Thanks to his help, you’ve been able to spend more time focusing on your studies. It should be comforting, but Satoru’s heart aches as he thinks of what you’ve been like prior to meeting him.

How long have you stayed up all night just to pass your exams? How long have you cried yourself to sleep, unable to handle the burden placed by the world on your shoulders at such a young age? How long have you had to turn down friends’ invites to parties with a forced smile because you had to go to work? How many times have you stared at a failing mark, teeth clenched because you studied well for it; your exhaustion just got the best of you and muddled your brain?

Satoru places the beer and dinner he’s got you on his way back home on top of your one-man dining table, pressing a kiss at the top of your head. You look so beautiful this way – unaware, unknowing, and focused in nothing but the future ahead of you that you don’t bother yourself with his past.

Perhaps…it was comforting, after all.

He’d rather have you worry over your own studies than worry about him. Satoru can’t stomach the idea of you – his precious angel – being involved in his own shit, possibly get caught between the crossfire. It pains him to say it, but he doesn’t want you getting too close for comfort.

So he stays there by your side, simply because it would expel all ideas of you wanting to be beside him. He’ll be right where you’re safe, and the sigh that leaves your lips when he moves you to your bed, fitting in his long, lanky bed on your cramped mattress an immense struggle. As if feeling that you’re finally home, you snuggle closer to his chest, murmuring sweet nothings that tug at his heartstrings.

Satoru rubs circles at your back, staring so hard at the chipped paint on your wall that he’s sure he’s got it burned in his memory.

Now that he thinks about it, he should’ve been satisfied with that. He should’ve held back in his desire to have more of you. He should’ve just tucked you in and left, but he was never really in control of himself. Before he knew it, he’s pulled in by you too much, encouraging him to move in with you under the lie it’s easier to keep an eye on you.

Had he just left you earlier…would things have been different then?

He’s asked himself this question too many times. Satoru always came to one conclusion. He loved you way too much that it consumed him, and soon the love he held for you slowly burned you inch by inch. The only way to save you was to pull away – but he wasn’t ready for that yet, not now – but he’s too scared, too deep in love that he ignores the warning signals and holds you close instead, finding comfort in the warmth of your arms.

Fuck. Satoru downs his second drink, glaring at everyone beneath his shades. Geto snickers beside him, sending side eyes to his boss every now and then just to check. Of course, Satoru’s not actually going to pass out, he was no lightweight, but he’d been uneasy every since that pretentious gold envelope landed on his desk.

One of the downsides of being a mafia leader meant you had to mingle with other clan shit, including him of all people. There were always new leaders popping out of nowhere, Satoru quote unquoting, criminals be spawning like maniacs.

For fourteen years – fourteen fucking years – his clan had been in bad blood with the Zen’ins. They were pretty new in the illegal side of business, starting off as a powerful name in the trade industry before they got interested in oil. One thing led to another, the family began to realize they could have so much more if they turned a blind eye to a law or to, soon shifting into illegal weaponry trade, human trafficking, then drug manufacturing.

These bastards had the audacity to insult the Gojo Clan when Satoru’s family dropped by to strike a contract out of curiosity to their goods, only to be turned down because they’re ‘barbaric’ and ‘informal.’

Satoru still remembers that humiliating moment of being escorted out by bodyguards, but he held his head high, vowing to show that bastard Zen’in guy that the Gojo’s were one of the powerhouses for a reason. He doesn’t even know where the elderly guy got his confidence from. Mafia business was not the same as their former expertise, yet they acted all high and mighty with their rules and standard of being sophisticated even in a life or death situation.

Gojo doesn’t know whether he should be happy or sad that the old man died, his son taking over just as soon as his father perished. He would’ve celebrated with a whiskey or two, except the new clan leader was quite adamant in cleaning up their name to prove he would not create the same mistake his father did.

The new leader threw a large cruise party, inviting pretty much everyone they were chummy with, and Satoru has never felt more out of place. He recognized a face or two, but he couldn’t really give a fuck. He hated events like this – it was all about establishing power and face.

Satoru groaned under his breath, swiping at another flute as a waiter passed by. He felt the bubbles fizzle down his throat, the slight burning sensation somewhat easing his nerves.

He leans back at the wall and checks his watch for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. It’s been two fucking hours since they arrived, and the host still hadn’t arrived. If they planned on being ‘fashionably late’ Satoru won’t hesitate to slice someone’s neck tonight. He hates his time being wasted the most, and his eyes slid over to his friend’s still posture, looking like he just saw a ghost.

“Suguru,” he sighs through his mouth, “Don’t be so tense. This is a formal event – no blood will be shed tonight.” Suguru had a weird skill of being able to read Satoru’s thoughts that he raised his hands in surrender, silently promising that he’s not going to kill anyone.

“You’re not sure of that.”

“I won’t lose my composure, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he rolls his eyes, not looking back as he effortlessly places the empty glass back to another waiter. Satoru stands next to his friend, sucking his teeth out of boredom. Suguru, on the other hand, is tenser than ever, his eyes locked onto something in the middle of the crowd that began to cheer.

Faintly, somewhere at the back of his mind, Satoru hears someone whistle in signal. A few seconds later, the fireworks are lit and decorate the night sky, bursts of gold and beauty accompanying the entrance of the woman who’s so effortlessly caught everyone’s eye tonight.

Satoru is rooted to his spot, taking off his glasses the same time the crowd parts. Then, his breath is knocked away from his body, his heart pumping so hard he actually struggled to breathe.

Because you’re there, smiling and waving at the crowd as if it’s second nature to you. Seven years of being apart from one another and Satoru is still bewitched each time he lays his eyes on you. You’re the same…from your face down to the angelic feeling you always carried, but at the same time, you’re different. Gone was his precious angel who shied away from too much attention, his precious angel who would’ve never worn such a bodacious ring embedded on her left ring finger. Your smile is more charismatic, confident, and even fierce compared to the small, private ones you always shared with him – he almost couldn’t recognize you.

As if feeling someone’s eyes on you, you spot him leaning languidly against the walls, those lips you used to kiss turned downwards.

Seven years ago, you would’ve kissed him until he smiles again, singing to your pouty and clingy boyfriend who never voiced out the reason of his troubles. Seven years ago, he would’ve carried you and swung you around, showering you with affection as he reminds you how lucky he is to have you.

But this was no longer the past – that much is clear from when he left you without another word.

Still, you smile at him, an empty one that showed nothing but concealed anger. He was sure though, so fucking sure, that for a split second, he saw you light up. That may have been seven years ago, but you loved each other to the point of insanity – surely you still held some sort of fondness of him.

Satoru takes long, self-assured stride towards you, his gaze never leaving yours with his hands tucked into his pockets. There’s no telling what he’ll do, but in his mind, it’s clear.

You still love him, he still loves you. He’ll do something about it. It doesn’t matter what, he just will. That was until a young man closer to your age with blond hair and pierced earrings, narrow feline eyes lined with eyeliner hobbles beside you, his weight supported by a cane that Satoru stops in his movements.

He’d recognize that face anywhere.

The youngest and perhaps most mischievous leader of them all, Naoya Zen’in. Albeit not as hard-headed as his father in comparison with his rather laid-back and welcoming nature, Satoru knows a monster when he sees it. It takes one to know one, after all, and despite the heir being crippled from a former accident, his intelligence and power was not to be overlooked through his appearance and coy smiles.

In fact, he might even be more dangerous than his old man, this theory only proven when his arms snake around your waist. The matching rings gleam from under the light, and you press yourself closer to him to whisper in his ear, your attention very much still on Satoru.

Satoru’s entire body burns.

“Still there, Sir?” Suguru asks, gripping his boss’ bicep to hold him back. Smart of him, Satoru exhales through his nose, unable to stop his glare from darting to your husband’s.

He’s heard of you, of him, of how his most annoying rival had a phenomenal trophy wife who looked harmless at first look, but was actually the brains of most of his operations. Satoru forgets how to breathe normally because he’s heard of you, and the rumors he’s gotten wind of about Naoya’s trophy wife are nothing less of how dedicated and perfect the two of you are.

Slapping Suguru’s arm away from him, Satoru grits his teeth. “Get me a drink.”

His precious angel was gone. No, this woman that stood before him…you were an entirely different entity, something darker, something along the lines that were more like him.

What exactly happened the day he left you?

taglist: @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head tagging the ones who asked for part 2, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

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tetralea · 3 years

Text

To play a game

Pairing: dom!Tom Holland x reader

Word Count: 1.8K+

Warning: dom-sub dynamics, dirty talking, cum in panties, exhibitionism, semi-public play, vaginal sex

Summary: You are attending at an event with Tom and the both of you likes to play dirty, so you ditch your panties for the night.

A/N: So,it was inspired by a conversation veeery long ago with @we--are---not--afraid also it kind of clashes with this ask: (P.S please at least say hi, next time because I’m not writing on demand)

The event was loud and as overwhelming as ever no matter how many times you did it. The red carpet walks, the interviews, the photos, it got easier over time but never less draining. The only thing what kept you on the edge was one specific man and the hurried promise he made before you got out of the car.

‘I bet you are not bold enough do this event without your panties.’ Tom purred into your ear, his eyes and words challenging you.

This is how it happened, your hands sliding under the dress which reached around your knees to find your panties and push it into Tom’s pocket. ‘And I bet you can’t walk around with my panties in your pocket without someone noticing.’ Your little head tilt and innocent eyes earned a groan and a dangerous glint in those brown eyes, but he didn’t say a thing.

It has been an hour now at least and you felt yourself growing wet as the cool air brushed against your pussy. You knew your dress was long enough to cover you by any means, but it didn’t help your feeling of being exposed and absolutely aroused by doing all this small talk and posing while not wearing your underwear, let alone having them in Tom’s pocket. It was a dirty little secret for the two of you, which riled you up more and more by every minute.

The first time you could finally talk to him again was before the dinner when he stepped to you, his fingers lightly touching your shoulder.

‘Do you have a minute for me, darling?’

With an apologetic smile you excused yourself from the group and started to follow him through the crowded room to an empty, dark hallway, curtains hanging from each side, giving you just enough cover for now. His fingers were interlocking with yours during the walk, only letting them go when he pushed you to the wall, getting tangled in a curtain a little.

‘How are you doing lovie?’ His words were hushed, lips finding yours before you could have answered in a hungry kiss.

‘Better than you, I'd say.’ The devilish smile on your lips and the way he gave himself away so easily earned you another groan before he was back kissing you silly. It was hot and heavy with need, need building from the moment you got out of the car a few hours ago. His hard on was painfully obvious as he stepped a bit closer, his full body pressed to yours now. Sure, it explains why at least one of his hands were in his pocket. Those tight, slim pants didn’t hide his erection very well.

Between the heated sloppy kisses, Tom’s long fingers slipped under your dress. ‘Do you know how it felt watching you flirting with everyone and knowing you little pussy is bare under your pretty dress?’

It was a rhetorical question, but he didn't give you time to answer anyway, his lips were on yours, kissing you in a way it made your head spin, your small whimpers lost in his mouth. ‘Lovie, you soaked even your thighs.’ Tom cooed, when his fingers run up on your skin, to find you completely roused and wet. The sound you made then his touch, even if it was light as a feather hit your exposed pussy lips was almost feral. ‘You know, originally I wanted to finger you here and go back to fuck you later, but I don’t think I can wait for so long.’ His mumbles along with his ministrations were too much to let you form any more coherent thoughts. ‘I think there is a storage room across the hall, what do you think?’ His question was sweet as honey in sync with the way he was petting your pussy, coating his fingers in your slick, pressing into you a digit only when he touched your gaping entrance.

‘Yes.’ As embarrassing as it was this was the first and only word which come to your mind, to Tom’s amusement. He loved it, loved to make you so flustered and worked up you practically forgot how to form words and there were nothing left but those sweet noises only for him.

It felt like it wasn’t even a minute later when the door of the small room clicked behind you. Tom was immediately all over you, his hands trying to feel as much skin as you could, being desperate to finally have you. ‘Turn around, lovie.’

You did with a bit of a help, hands pressed to the hard, steel shelves, but you didn’t care. There was a bit of a pause while Tom undid his pants, a bit of a shuffling until he pushed them down till his knees, to pull himself free from his boxers. Lifting your dress with one hand and aligning his hot cock head with your entrance with the other shouldn’t have been this hot in this situation, but you couldn’t help it.

‘Tom?’ Your voice was weak and impatient, when you didn’t feel the immediate fullness, you were expecting but only the delicious stretch at your entrance. He stopped.

‘Ask for it, darling. You made me walk around with a hard cock all night, this is the least you could do to make it fair.’

The frustrated moan didn’t help, nor the almost inaudible please. ‘You know you can act like a little brat, and I could always just jerk off like this and leave you frustrated, so you better think about your next words carefully.’ With his words a sharp slap cut through the silence of the small space followed with your whimper when he slapped your ass a bit roughly.

‘Tom, please.’ You tried, but already knew it won’t cut it. He tsked with his tongue, which didn’t mean any good for you, mostly when you felt his hand slowly moving starting to gently stroke his own cock.

‘Last chance, baby girl.’ He warned and gave you another slap, his hand not speeding up yet.

The last nick name seemed to wash away all of your remaining resistance, getting the obedient little sub out of you.

‘Please, fuck me.’ Your words were so fast it was a miracle he heard them correctly.

‘What is it?’ Tom teased, leaning closer to your seemingly to hear better, pushing his thick cock half-way in during the process.

‘Please fuck me, please I need your cock!’ The words fumbled over your lips like prayer now, a shudder running down on your spine making you twitch around his cock.

‘Look at you. You must be so desperate.’ Along with the soft, slow purr he finally pushed into you fully inch by inch. The mewl you made was primal, finally feeling the fullness and weight of his cock inside of you.

‘Open up!’ It threw you off for a minute, but there was no time to think about it when he tapped on your lip, and something lace like touched them too. Tom stuffed your panties into your mouth without hesitation.

Your eyes rolled back, any of your previous resistance thrown out of the window, melting into Tom’s touch, as he fucked into you. He didn’t start slow, knowing your body enough by now, to be sure you could take it. He did slow down tho after a few minutes, to pull you closer, to pepper sweet kisses onto your neck, to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. ‘Such a good girl for me.’ Tom cooed and bit your earlobe, before letting you go and starting to thrust hard and fast again.

With your sounds muffled by your panties, lips and jaw stretching around them, eyes shut as you got lost in your pleasure, until you felt your high approaching. Your fingers left the selves which were warm under your palms now, to tap in his wrist twice.

‘Oh, baby girl, look how good you can be. Are you there? Are you asking for my permission?’ His words were surprisingly coherent compared to the state he was. You felt his thrust becoming sloppy, his grip on your body tightening, his pants and moans becoming more breathy, he was also close.

The answer for his question was a frantic nodding and a desperate cry trying to hold it.

‘Good girl. You can come on my command when I hit zero.’ With that Tom started to count down from ten, making it almost the longest ten seconds of your life because he didn’t slow down, he was taking you with the same strength and speed as before, making it especially hard for you to hold back your orgasm. Now you were grateful for the small ruined piece of fabric in your mouth to hold back your desperate cries, moans and whimpers, because you were on the edge, your whole body shaking during those ten seconds.

‘One, almost there.’ Tom’s voice was equally breathless and wretched. ‘Zero. Come baby girl, come on my cock. Come on.’

To the permission and encouragement, you started coming immediately without even fully registering it. It took a few seconds to really reach your peak. Your mouth opened to a silent O while your body shook and convulsed under the force of your orgasm. The small, wet hole tightening around Tom and the unmistakable signs of your orgasm pushed him over too, his cock twitching and oozing his thick, warm cum into you.

When it was over, he pulled out carefully, being aware of just how sensitive he made you. The small kisses on your shoulders sending shudders down on your arms, your eyes still closed, enjoying his closeness. He took your panties out of your mouth reaching down to use them to clean your thighs a little.

‘Did you enjoy it?’ He asked, his lips finally finding yours for a soft, loving kiss. ‘This is what you had in mind?’

‘Yeah, yeah thank you.’

‘Good, because otherwise you would be so punished at home for sticking this into my pocket. I was so fucking hard all night, darling.’ Tom softly schooled you while he turned you around trying to re arrange the both of you to a presentable state.

‘I know and it got me so wet.’ Your tired giggle was an obvious sign of your satisfied state.

‘Yeah?’ Tom looked at you with amusement. ‘Good, because you will wear a fresh pair now, right? And I know I’ll get hard again eventually, because you are running around with my cum in your pussy eventually dripping out of you and leaving a visible wet patch on your panties with all these very important people around us.’ As he talked you pulled out that fresh pair from your purse, he helped you to put it on, his fingers pressing the material to your entrance firmly. ‘Let’s go and enjoy the party while my hands are out of my pocket.’

Tag list: @terrifictomholland @itstaskeen @thegirlintheswivelchair @duskholland @sinisterspidey @tomsrebeleyebrow @annathesillyfriend @hazofmyheart @greenorangevioletgrass @worldoftom @augustholland @m-multifandom-multishipper

If you want to be or not to be tagged please let me know!

#tom holland #tom holland smut #Tom Holland x reader #dom!tom holland #tom holland reader insert #tom holland fanfiction #smutty smut smut

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samstree · 3 years

Text

Just a Little Pretense

Jaskier and Geralt stage a fake breakup. Someone’s feelings get hurt for real.

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

AO3

“… It would be to take you off my hands!”

Geralt’s voice echoes in the ballroom, between the tall walls and the high ceiling. Everyone on the dance floor has fallen into silence. Even the band has stopped playing, their lead singer gaping with round eyes.

Jaskier blinks, impressed.

All the eyes are on the two of them. Jaskier’s back prickles with the gazes. As the fight escalated, more and more guests have stopped dancing just to eavesdrop on the witcher and the bard, the most peculiar couple in the room.

Which is just perfect. The more people witnessing their breakup, the more awkward it will be afterward, and the easier it will be to get out of this tedious party. And here Jaskier is, regretting ever having doubted his dear witcher’s ability to perform.

Who would have thought Geralt is a method actor? Drawing inspiration from a past argument is ingenious.

His old acting professor back in Oxenfurt would approve of this. The show is going swimmingly and he is pumped with adrenaline—maybe he should go back on stage one day, do a play or two.

But alas, he can muse the idea later. The show must go on.

“Really? Just like that?” Jaskier croaks, seemingly on the verge of crying. He’s not so bad himself, classically trained and everything. “Thirty years, Geralt. I followed you for thirty years, and just like that, you will kick me out of your life? Did I ever—” he breaks off with a whimper. “Did I ever mean anything to you? Or were you ready to cast me aside this whole time?”

A tear rolls down. His lips wobble. The crowd erupts in hushed murmurs and sympathetic sighs. The set-up, the build, everything has been perfect. Now the only thing left is for Geralt to break things off, and the two of them can ride into the metaphorical sunset and never see this court again.

Jaskier waits in anticipation, but his witcher opens his mouth.

And closes it.

Geralt looks as upset as he should, angry and torn and equally shocked, his golden eyes wide and his jaw clenched tight. It’s a nice picture to paint for the audience. They are supposedly having the biggest fight in their lives and his body language is very convincing.

More than convincing.

Except, it just might be … too convincing.

Wait—

Jaskier focuses on Geralt, who looks as if he wants to shrink into himself, his shoulders slumped and arms drawn in. He looks as if he’s waiting to be struck. Wait, something’s not right.

“I can’t do this.” A whisper leaves Geralt’s lips, small and achingly sad.

It’s not the line he’s supposed to say.

Geralt’s eyebrows droop ever so slightly, and there’s a flash of distress behind the molten gold. It’s gone in a second, hidden behind a façade of indifference.

The tells are subtle, near imperceivable to the untrained eye, but to Jaskier, they are clear as day—Geralt is hurt. For real.

Oh.

Fuck.

“Geralt,” Jaskier tries, instantly snapped out of his character.

And yet, there’s no reply. Geralt lowers his head, turns around, and flees the scene within one heartbeat and the next. The crowd is too eager to make way for him.

“Shit,” Jaskier curses, ready to chase after Geralt, but the Countess de Stael appears out of nowhere with a flock of maids and positively blocks him in all directions. She’s eager to lament the loss of love and companionship, and to offer Jaskier a place at her court once again. Oh, shit.

Jaskier brushes her off, all the while painfully remembering he and Geralt’s goal from the beginning—to use the breakup as an excuse to get out of this place.

Well, the plan is shit. Is it too late to notice?

Weaving through dozens of nobles is a lot more difficult when they all want to extend sympathy, and Jaskier is only placating them absent-mindedly, faking regret and heartbreak. His mind is full of his witcher, who is either brooding or spiraling over the venom he spewed earlier.

The truth is, Jaskier has long forgotten about the mountain—not because it didn’t hurt. To be shunned by Geralt, blamed for everything, and denied friendship, was the worst thing to have happened to him at the time. It’s just that Jaskier has forgiven it, so long ago and so completely.

Jaskier cannot get to their room fast enough, and when he pushes open the door, the sight of Geralt’s dejected face is a stab through the chest. The witcher is perched on the bed, somehow looking a lot smaller than he is.

Jaskier never should have come up with the stupid fake breakup thing, never should have inadvertently reopened the old wound. They healed, together. They shouldn’t be hurting anymore.

“I explained. We can leave now,” Jaskier tires, but in fairness, he doesn’t remember what he said to the Countess. “Geralt?”

The witcher himself crosses his arms, hugging his midriff and avoiding Jaskier’s gaze. “Good,” he answers curtly, shoulders still tense.

He looks angry, and when Geralt is angry, it’s most likely with himself. Oh, whatever heartbreak Jaskier acted out earlier, it’s not a match to a fraction of what he’s feeling now. It must be the one millionth time Geralt’s self-loathing has broken Jaskier’s heart, and it never gets easier, not when Jaskier caused it himself.

“Hey.” Jaskier desperately wants to wrap his arms around Geralt. So he does. He sits down on the bed and pulls his witcher into the biggest bear hug, which is returned immediately and so very tightly. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I fucked up, Geralt. I’m—”

“Don’t be.” Geralt buries his nose into Jaskier’s neck and shakes his head. “I never should have said those things, Jask. I should be the one apologizing. It was wrong and untrue and I would never abandon you. You are my best friend. How can I ever? Please, believe me…”

Geralt trails off, his hands rubbing circles into Jaskier’s back. Although it’s unclear who he’s trying to soothe.

“I know. It’s okay. I know,” Jaskier murmurs, over and over again, sealing each reassurance with a kiss pressed into silver hair.

“I never meant it, Jask.”

“I know. It was fake. We were pretending.”

Geralt pulls away, golden eyes dead serious, pausing between every word. “I never meant it.”

Jaskier meets his gaze unwaveringly, with not an ounce of doubt. “I know.”

They stay there for a while, just holding each other. Geralt keeps sniffing Jaskier’s scent the same way he always does to check for injury or distress. He thinks he’s subtle, the sweet man, so Jaskier never mentions it.

Despite what an outsider might assume, Geralt is the sensitive one between the two. He’s so careful when it comes to their relationship, especially after the mountain and sometimes to his own detriment.

He’s so scared of hurting Jaskier again.

“I was an idiot for suggesting it,” Jaskier breaks the silence, nudging Geralt in the knee.

Geralt hums, lips pursed.

“Fake breakup is a terrible idea. Next time we’ll just grit our teeth and sit through the month-long party.”

Still, no smile.

“Alright, you win. Next time I won’t take you to a month-long party to start with.” Jaskier gently pats Geralt on the cheek. “For your delicate sensibilities, darling.”

Finally, finally, Geralt’s lips turn upwards, just a smidge.

“You are an idiot,” Geralt says, the crease between his brows fading. “Just…don’t make me make you cry again.”

Melting into the warmth welling up between his ribcage, Jaskier leans forward and presses a tiny kiss at his witcher’s forehead, so softly as if he’d break with any more force.

“Yes, dear.”

Being careless with Geralt’s heart is a mistake that Jaskier never wants to repeat. As he put a hand over his witcher’s languid heartbeat, Jaskier feels the soft thrumming against his palm, and realizes just how terribly he needs to guard it with the same care too. Against his frivolous self, and against the past that never seems to stop haunting them.

Because Jaskier needs this thing between them to work. If a faked breakup already seems unbearable, he shudders to imagine a real one.

A witcher’s life is already riddled with pain and sadness and could-have-beens. A poet would hate it if he added himself to the list.

---

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod @kuripon

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #reverse trope #fake breakup #geralt x jaskier #post mountain #hurt/comfort #geralt of rivia is a sap #soft jaskier #jaskier is an idiot #don't mind him #established relationship

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unohanadaydreams · 3 years

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This was originally an ask I answered quite a while ago that I’ve gone back and edited. It went from 1k to 1.6k words so it’s been significantly reworked, so much so that if you’ve read it before, it’s enough of a new piece that you’ll hopefully enjoy reading it again! I’ve edited the original ask to reflect all changes, but believe me--it’s been through a transformation.

But, yeah, I’ve gotten quite a few asks for hurt/comfort Ukitake so this is an offering for all of you!! He only suffers a lil bit. <3

so close and yet so far from death [1.6k]

Jushiro Ukitake x Reader:

Falling to her knees, Kiyone pressed her blubbering face against the thin door. “He won’t tell us! Not a thing,” she said, like she was struggling to contain a sob.

Sentaro’s arms circling around her waist, he tugged her to a stand.

“We tried our best.” Despite his eyes holding yours, it seemed more a reassurance for the down trodden Kiyone leaning against him.

Your smile was soft when it lifted.

When had they ever failed at keeping their captain first in their hearts and minds?

“Of course, you did,” you said, trying to infuse your thanks into a tender tone. “Thank you for your efforts.”

Relieving them from their post with a squeeze to Sentaro’s shoulder and a ruffle of Kiyone’s hair, you pressed on.

And immediately crouched to the floor, your fingers smoothing over the warm knit blanket tossed in the entry way, your heart squeezing.

Oh, Jushiro.

You smothered your face in the blanket. Breathed in his scent. Desperate to collect yourself with arms full of buttery soft yarn. You waited, crouched and tense, for the knot of tears that pricked at your throat to loosen and dissolve away.

The growing sadness only made the tears spill. How hypocritical of you--wishing Jushiro would see more than pity in your actions, while you paused here…pitying you both.

With a soft determination, you nodded, brushed tears from warm cheeks.

“Right!” Using the momentum of your renewed hope, you hoisted yourself up, wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, and toed off both your sandals. Your thoughts of ‘poor Jushiro’ left in the doorway with them.

The blanket hugged you, warm and comfortable as you padded across the tatami mat to the backyard. You might have paused longer without the yarn-spun shield--near dead, with Fall smoothly moving to embrace Winter, the garden looked unwelcoming.

The chill of stepping outside slapped at your exposed face in uneven bursts of wind, but you persisted, fingers foisted in the blanket.

You seemed to spot him all at once, as though the slump of his frame had camouflaged him. His bleak mood folding him into the similarly blanched surroundings.

He was without his captain’s coat. The thin, faded kimono he often wore to bed was all that shielded him from the wind’s bite. Strands of his long, bone white hair lifted, like the wind was a mouth, tugging.

You kept your feet steady despite the worry, unsure if the deep concern you felt would cause him to flee; a deer bolting at the first crunch of underbrush.

“Jushiro,” you said. Your voice tensed his shoulders, caused his head to jump as though roused from thought.

Your arms de-tangled from the wool and draped it over his shoulders before you sank beside him. “Your lieutenants are sulking like puppies, you know.”

“Hm. They should be used to it by now,” he said in a melancholy tone that you struggled to hear. Jushiro never spoke about the silly tag team who constantly trailed him like that.

‘Patience be damned,’ you thought. Groaning loud and forceful you smacked your cold hands against your equally frost licked cheeks. “I can’t do it!”

Jushiro finally turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“I can’t stand seeing you so down on yourself,” you carried on, the steam of your outrage warming you, causing your breath to puff in white clouds. “And I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

He winced, a bitter twist raising his lips at the sight of your hand grabbing for his. “I couldn’t get through the proposal.”

“It was just bad timing.”

His gaze retreated, moving to track flashing scales of sluggish, well-fed koi instead.

“Yes, exactly,” Jushiro croaked. “What if it’s always bad timing? Will you be so understanding when it’s our wedding day that I’m coughing up blood at?”

Your hand tightened around his, rubbing at his pale, thin fingers. “Of course,” you said, trying to contain your frustration. “Jushiro, I love you. I love all of you. Not just when you’re healthy or when life is easy.”

His dark brown eyes met yours for a breathless moment before his hand squeezed back and he laced your fingers together. “You deserve someone like that, -chan. Someone healthy. Who makes life easy.”

You couldn’t have shaken your head with anymore force, wishing you could smash your forehead against his and force every ounce of your feelings through his thick skull. Jushiro’s determination to upend your point tightened your throat.

“No,” you said, voice quivering in frustration. “I deserve the man who proposed to me because he loves me so much he wants to spend his life with me!! I--”

His arms were tugging at your back before you could speak further. Your deep, shuddering breath sucked the cotton fabric against his chest to your lips as you began to cry in earnest.

There was nothing to do but say it once more--”I love you, Jushiro. I do.”

“Oh,” he said, so mournful in his regret. “My dear.”

“Am I?,” you sobbed. “Then why can’t I be your wife, too?”

His hair tickled at your ears as it cascaded over you, his chin sharp against your scalp. “You are--oh, you are.”

He called your name, then again, and again, each utterance more bare than the last. “It’s just like me to forget how far pride forces you from others, isn’t it.”

Jushiro’s lips pressed to the top of your head, the chill of his own tears pooling between the kiss. The proof of his hurt did nothing to satisfy you. But your crying slowed, your arms hugging him, hands meeting behind his shaking back.

“Yes, but you understand now, don’t you? You’re not a sickness I need shielded from.”

Arms almost crushing, he held you tightly, for long minutes that were marked only by soft crying and whistling wind. “Thank you,” he managed after his body had grown steady.

Your tears wet his kimono in a warm pool of relief as he rubbed firm circles against your back. Your hands clutch at his sides, pressing to feel the warm of his body.

“Forgive me, please. I’m just so used to...”--Jushiro grappled for words and you waited for him to wrestle the correct ones down--”keeping it hidden. Only being sick behind closed doors, away from everyone, and coming back when it’s through. There doesn’t seem to be any room for that kind of separation in marriage.”

“No,” you agreed. “I wouldn’t want there to be.”

Tentative, almost too low for you to hear anything but the vibration of his chest, he said, “I don’t want it to be that way either.”

“So, if you understand” you sniffle, muffled by fabric and skin and salty tears, failing at light-hearted. “Are we still getting married?”

Jushiro pushed at your shoulders until you felt the wind drying your tears in a cruel chill. His thin hands cupped your face, thumbs swiping at the damp tracks trailing your cheeks. You did the same for him. “-chan,” he sighed, tender and reassuring. “Would you marry a silly man like me? Through all my sickness and little bits of health?”

Puffs of visible warmth formed between your faces as you chuckled in pathetic, wet hiccups. “Yes. For the second time, yes.”

Jushiro relaxed fully in one large breath as he leaned forward to kiss you, both of you unbothered by the mingling tears wetting your faces or the briny taste of them shared between your tongues.

His hands cradled your back and pressed you fully against him as he deepened the kiss, his head canting to the side. The blanket fell from his shoulders. Tumbling from your reach as you locked your arms around his neck.

Your lips detached from Jushiro’s as a thump sounded from the porch, Shunsui’s voice registering seconds after.

“Well, what did I say, you two?”

Quick enough to bring spots to your eyes, you turned to see Sentaro’s body lying prone against the wood, his fingers shielding a blushed face. Both he and Kiyone looked mortified, yet unable to look away as Shunsui glided toward you.

“C-captain we-we just,” Kiyone said, her teeth chattering in anxiety as she squashed her face with clutching hands, fingers wide enough to allow her eyes an unobstructed view.

“We came to celebrate the newlyweds,” Shunsui interrupted, smoothly raising a large, elegantly decorated bottle of unopened sake. “But don’t let us interrupt you just yet. Sake’s always sweeter with a view, after all. And something tells me it was just getting good.”

Jushiro inhaled deeply as he hugged you close again, but his brown eyes were light, twinkling with humor. “I should thank you to keep that particular gaze away from my future wife.”

Freeing your head with a twist, you eyed Shunsui with a dramatized sniff, your own arms tight around Jushiro’s body. “Sorry, but that was the end of whatever show you were hoping for!”

Shunsui flopped boneless to the porch. With a wink, he began pouring booze into large drinking saucers and you couldn’t help but grin. “Maaa. Just my luck.”

“We’ll be going now, captain!” Kiyone bowed dramatically, tugging at Sentaro’s uniform with enough force to tug it loose from his obi, as she backed away. “We’re so happy for you!”

“Congratulations, captain! I’m the happiest I’ve ever BEEN for you!”

“Everyone’s going to be so excited!!”

“Kiyone! How dare you?! I would NEVER spread this information without our captain’s permission!”

“Wha--no! Captain, I meant when they find out! I would hate even MORE to spread your private information around.”

Your laughter warmed everything inside you. Jushiro’s arms holding you helping just as much.

Thanking them, you and he dismissed them with fond smiles that they took with them, their bickering explosive with relief.

As Jushiro pressed his lips to your cheek and led you to the porch, you were glad for both his and Shunsui’s hand helping you to kneel. Your soul felt so light, without them, you’d surely float away.

#jushiro ukitake #jushiro ukitake x reader #bleach x reader #bleach imagines #bleach fanfic #i may go back and do this for a few other of my longer pieces #but this one i've had in mind for a while because i SUPER rushed the original

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ryosmne · 3 years

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Tattoo Artist! Sukuna x reader (part 3)

Hey there again, I had a few ideas of where i wanted to take the third part, I'm very happy with what I came up with, it's very very fluffy, I hope you have a good time reading 💜.

Series masterlist here

Here's a playlist for fluffy Sukuna

Warnings: Language, suggestive tones, alcohol consumption (everyone is of age here, around 21/22), nudity? Not really described, that's about it.

Saturday was slow for Sukuna, he doesn't really like working away his weekends, but here he is, finishing up a chest piece that looked good if he had to say so himself. Everything was luckluster to him compared to the project he was still drafting for y/n.

Speaking of her she hadn't texted him all day, neither did Sukuna. He told himself he wasn't clingy like that, she texted him before she would do it again surely. Y/n didn't pay much mind to him not making contact, perhaps he was busy. She wasn't wrong, she also had initiated most of their text conversations, she didn't want to seem desperate. Sukuna was going to contact her when he was free.

On the other hand Sukuna was stressed, passing in the hallway between the reception and his work booth, checking his phone every once in a while, he was a bit snappier than usual, not letting Gojo's or Megumi's remarks go, he would answer back, his voice almost dripping with venom, he was very much pissed and it showed.

When closing time finally came he was ready to blow up, Gojo teasing him, only made him more agitated. Gojo knew something was bothering him and he wasn't planning on dropping the subject.

"Hey 'kuna, tell the truth, you took her out and she left because she couldn't stand you, that's why you're so mad."

The white haired man joked, you could see the smoke coming out Sukuna's ears.

"Don't call me that. For your information, me and y/n had a great time, quit being an bumbass I'm not mad." Y/n did enjoy herself right? It sure looked like it. Was Sukuna getting insecure? Yes. Could everyone tell he was lying about not being mad? Also Yes.

"Oh so it's 'you and y/n' now? You were right Geto, he's got it real bad, he's not even calling her 'some girl' or something."

Gojo continued to laugh, he was enjoying every single second of torment he was putting Sukuna through.

He had enough though, he grabbed his jacket and his keys, but just before he left the rest of his crew and Yuuji, who came to eat with Megumi to close, he called to the most rational person inside. "Geto, come on I'll drive you home." Sukuna needed someone to talk to, he needed to know he was in the right and not going totally insane. Nanami was really close to him but relationships wasn't a topic he would really touch on. Gojo was out of the question, the man was a womaniser, not that it was a bad thing but he wouldn't even take Sukuna seriously, he only wanted to annoy him for the time being. Megumi was also a no. He would spill the beans to Yuuji, he already had Gojo on his ass he didn't need two more idiots making fun of him, one was barely tolerable. That only left Geto, who has at least had a few solid relationships and he was trustworthy enough not to give him too much shit.

Geto grabbed the chance not to have to clean for one night, but he was very curious about Sukuna's sudden move to give him a ride home, he has never offered that before. Yuuji had tipped him off, he knew his brother wanted to get all of the attention, if y/n didn't make a move, his brother would go insane. He was surprisingly right, so Yuuji told Geto to try and get his brother riled up. Now Geto didn't exactly agree, but he wanted to give Sukuna a friendly nudge to the right direction.

Sukuna had already been driving for a little while, he couldn't find the courage to open his mouth and talk. Has he gone mad? Its not like he's clueless about girls, he's had many. Why was it different this time?

"So how come you wanna drive me around at night?" The raven haired man asked, eyebrow raised, ready to hear what his friend was so on edge for all day, even though he had an idea. Sukuna wasn't one to share feelings, he never did, he couldn't really tell anyone the reason why not a single word from y/n all day irked him so damn much. "Look, so let's say there's this girl right? You take her out, you have fun, everything is cruising perfectly, but then she doesn't really talk to you the next day." He said with a small pause "hypothetically speaking" He added, just to avoid further questions.

Geto looked at him with a blank face, although he couldn't really believe in his ears, Yuuji was right, he knew his friend was falling face first, it still surprised him. He saw the day that Sukuna was stressed for a girl, if someone told him even two weeks ago that this was going to happen happen, Geto most definitely would've laughed straight in their face.

"Well it depends really, for example did you text her and she didn't answer? Then yeah, she's not interested, but maybe she's busy, or she started texting first and she wants you to initiate." Sukuna blinked "You're right she's busy, she has a test too, maybe she has been studying, she'll come around." He said, the words came fast out of his mouth. Geto looked at him again more serious this time. "Look man, I know for a fact, you haven't texted first, you seem to really like her, don't be a pussy and send her one text." His tone was equally serious. "I'm just fond of her, that's all she's good company." Sukuna tried to brush him off, Geto wouldn't budge. "Call it what you want, I know you like the feisty ones, so do many people and you know how college kids are, one party is all it takes to lead to who knows what. Man up, when you do you can bring her around the shop too, you know we all would love to meet her." By the time Geto finished his sentence, Sukuna had already parked outside of his apartment to drop him off, they shared their good nights.

For the rest of his lonely drive home Sukuna couldn't help but think of that party his brother mentioned a couple nights ago, was y/n going to be there? And Geto's words kept replaying in his head.

Geto was smiling to himself walking inside his apartment knowing he did the right thing giving his friend a slight push.

With her hair just the way she liked it, her make-up done and an outfit that extenuated her best features, y/n was making her way down the street to meet up with Mai outside of Todo's place. The walk wasn't too long and y/n caught a glimpse of her short haired friend, who was also dressed to impress, standing right out of Todo's door.

"You didn't wait long did you?" Y/n asked, Mai smilled and shook her head, she was the late one most of the time, she did make it just a second before y/n arrived.

"Let's go, my sister and Nobara are waiting" she informed y/n, who nodded. "Really, I haven't seen Maki in a while, Nobara rarely shows up in class too." She said full of excitement, the girls were friends for a long while, even before college. Mai and y/n ended up forming closer friendship.

"Yeah they're about to remind us of how single we are." Mai loved her sister with all her heart, she was very competitive though and when Maki got with Nobara before Mai could strike up a boyfriend in college, she took it a bit personally. Then she focused her attention on finding someone for y/n, but that never went well. Hopping right up the stairs both girls were talking about what they would see tonight, more accurately who. "So Yuuji is probably going to be here, I asked Todo" Mai said her eyes hopefull, y/n rolled her's and her companion didn't let it go unnoticed. "I really don't get you, he's cute, you even said so." There she goes again, but y/n wouldn't let it slide this time. "You seem way more giddy to see him, than I do." She said, knocking on Todo's door who was waiting right behind it, answering in seconds. Mai was still dumbfounded, she hardly acknowledged Todo at the door and made her way inside with y/n.

Thankfully the sofa on Todo's living room they usually sat on was only occupied by Maki and Nobara. "Wow sis you made it on time for once without someone dragging you out the house." Maki hugged her sister tightly, "I didn't really have a choice, y/n said she would go home if I was late again." Mai, said with a bit of a whine. Nobara went for y/n. "She's giving you hell huh?" Her comment made the girl laugh. "Nah she's fine, she can be a bit of a baby." That line made Mai slap her arm playfully, even when they made digs at each other, it was all in good fun.

Y/n could see Mai out the corner of her eye scanning the room, it wasn't unusual for her to do that, but it was the fourth time the past 30 minutes they've been here. Something was definitely up with her, and when she raised her hand having finally spotted the one she was looking for, y/n was a hundred percent sure of what was going on.

"Yuuji, over here" Mai called hand in the air, a very friendly smile on her face. Yuuji eagerly walked over offering his greetings, his attention was on y/n "Hey, has my brother texted you at all?" That was an out of the blue question. Mai gave her a look "His brother?" She questioned, then looked back at Yuuji "You've got a brother?" Why did he have to say that infront of Mai, she wouldn't leave her alone until she told her everything about the guy, she was at least thankful he didn't mention a date, Sukuna probably hadn't mentioned anything to him. "Oh yeah, he's the one I went to last week and no Yuuji he hasn't, did something happen?" Mai stayed silent, so did the other girls, they planned on interrogating her later, judging by the looks they exchanged. "Oh it's nothing" Yuuji let out a breathy laugh, knowing he plotted with Geto to get under his brother's skin. Payback for the bagels he baked at 4 am was going to be sweet.

Yuuji took a seat next to Mai, who introduced him to her sister, Nobara already knew him short of and the two of them begun chatting casually. Y/n could see the chemistry between them as he complimented the dark haired girl on the way she looked tonight. She could see their eyes meeting, something more than friendliness resided in the looks they shared.

Y/n let her friend have her fun, at this point Maki and Nobara had adopted her taking shots, talking about the annoying situations that have occurred in the time they hadn't seen each other. Nobara in particular, was sharing her frustrations about men not taking her seriously as Maki's significant other and continuing to make moves on her partner. "I shut them down" Maki said proudly snaking an arm around her girlfriend's waist. "I know you do, I just want them to feel a bit threatened" Nobara's eyes drifted to the floor . "What are you talking about? Remember the time you just looked at that guy eyeing her and he mouthed 'sorry'? You're very threatening." Y/n took another shot laughing with the two girls. Her comment was quite comforting to Nobara and Maki knew that things always went Nobara's way, she just liked complaining sometimes, she was the jealous type.

Todo with Takada in hand, who arrived right after y/n and Mai, answers his door again for the multipluth time this evening, seeing the last person he expected. "I thought you were too old for house parties" he taunted at the grumpy man infront of him. "Screw you I'm 26, and I didn't come empty handed" Sukuna spoke, his tone getting a bit friendlier at the last words in his sentence. He passwd the two bottles of vodka he held to Todo. "Well come on in, Yuuji's brother is also mine" he said giving the pink haired man a friendly hug.

Sukuna's eye scanned his living room untill his eyes landed on the back of y/n's head, he headed straight her way.

Y/n heard a few girls around her making a fuss over some apparently really hot guy who just entered, but she didn't bother turning around. That was until she heard it "Huh, who would've known, you actually have friends" That voice was unmistakably his. Sukuna was here. Y/n's heart was fluttering in her chest but the alcohol in her system made it easy to come up with a comeback. "At least I don't pay mine to hang around me." She said, her voice laced with sarcasm, she still didn't turn to face him, she was frozen in place. Mai's, Maki's, Yuuji's and Nobara's eyes were wide and dancing between the two. There was for sure something going on here. Sukuna took a seat beside her casually draping an arm around the back of the sofa. "You're hurting my feelings doll, I'm not that bad" he spoke so softly, she almost got lost looking into his eyes. He looked way too good for her liking, same jewelry and eyeliner as the last time she saw him, his pink her strategically messed up, a silk black button down with the top two buttons undone, exposing his defined collarbones and the tattoos that extended to his chest and neck, black pants framing his thighs perfectly as he sat. Y/n was staring at this point, her friends were silent, taking in the image that was displayed before them. They had never seen y/n flustered or having difficulty forming words. Even Yuuji was surprised, seems like he was wrong about y/n's taste.

Sukuna was enjoying the look on her face a little more than he cared to admit, he would've taken his teasing further, but he didn't want to embarrass the girl anymore and her friends were already shocked. "Aren't you going to introduce me?" He asked her poking her cheek, and y/n could see Nobara was about to blow up.

"Right, Mai, Maki and Nobara this is Sukuna, he's um my tattoo artist?" What was she even supposed to say at this point? The guy she went on a date with and had the best make out session of her life?

Sukuna gave his hand out to the girls greeting them, he noticed his brother a few seats over who was concealing a laugh "you're here too brat" he briefly egnowledged him, Yuuji hummed back a hello in return, turning to Mai who was very eager to hear the details of y/n's and Sukuna's relationship, he sure as hell didn't look like just her tattoo artist.

"Tattoo artist? Really? you don't even have tattoos y/n" Nobara spoke, she just wanted her friend to be honest with her, if she had someone special, she could have said so, they've known each other for years. Sukuna wasn't surprised to hear that y/n hadn't shared that she got tattooed, he could tell she was a bit of a private person.

Y/n took off her jacket that she still had on from when she arrived, to show off the design to Maki and Nobara, Mai had already seen it and she was busy gossiping with Yuuji anyways. "Right, I forgot to tell you" she said, as Maki and Nobara scanned her upper arm with their eyes, so did Sukuna. He couldn't help himself, y/n looked so beautiful in his work. He wanted to cover every inch of her skin she was willing to give him, she could be his personal work of art, she already was one, but he wanted to decorate her in the best way he could and with the most beautiful art he could make. "That looks so beautiful" Maki spoke in awe, Nobara gave a little laugh "it's creepy, but it's really you. "

She took a look at Sukuna then back at y/n "It's very fitting, I don't know how to explain it." She continued.

Sukuna never took compliments that seriously, but hearing y/n's seemingly bitchy friend praise his work and the perception he had of her made him grin widely.

The four of them continued to speak, Maki and Nobara were very interested in Sukuna's line of work, Mai and Yuuji also took their turns in talking when they weren't too busy with one another. Y/n's friends were doing great with Sukuna, she thought he would be really difficult, he has a very explosive personality. Sukuna was putting in all the effort to make a good impression, both to y/n and the ones around her.

"So, did you miss me that much you came to find me?" Y/n asked once the attention was taken off of them. Mai looked to be having a deep conversation with Yuuji whereas Maki and Nobara got up to dance. "And if I did?" Sukuna spoke, his face dangerously close to hers, when did he manage to get hip to hip with her? Then again y/n had grown so comfortable around him, she didn't notice.

"Well, if that's the case, I'm glad you did come." She replied, Sukuna could tell she was a bit tipsy, else he would be making out with her on that sofa not caring who was watching.

Y/n poured herself another drink, thank god she didn't have to get up to get a refill, but Sukuna's voice stopped her movements. "Maybe you should ease up there" he said watching her fill two cups.

Y/n raised a brow at him "since where are you a party pooper? come on it ain't a party without a drink" her voice was playful as she tried passing one cup to him. Sukuna liked this y/n too, she was a bit more giggly, she smiled a bit more, "I'm driving sweetheart". Y/n was satisfied with his answer and proceeded to gulp down on both the cups she filled before Sukuna could stop her. She laughed pointing at him with her tongue out "too slow". Sukuna could only smile and pat her head. She was something else.

Somewhere along the night, Maki and Nobara disappeared and so did Yuuji and Mai. "You better tell your brother to take good care of my friend" y/n's state was getting worse, or more hilarious, it depended on how you looked at it. Sukuna would straight up laugh with some of the things she said, and he was trying his best to keep all forms of alcohol away from her, for her own good. "I don't think you should worry, Yuuji is much better than me in these kinds of things." He replied honestly, but y/n didn't necessarily see it like that. "There's no way he's that smooth" she trailed, the corners of her lips tugging upward. "Well if I didn't know any better, I'd say you liked me, didn't you think I was a dick?" Sukuna asked "Still do" her smile only grew wider.

One thing was for sure, y/n was very demanding when drunk, Sukuna left her side for the first time all night to get her some water, cause she felt 'like SpongeBob under that lamp drying out'. Not even slightly bothered by her request, Sukuna was on his way back to her, that's when he saw some guy standing infront of her trying to talk to her. Y/n even in her not very conscious state didn't tolerate people who didn't respect her "Just one song, come on it won't hurt, you're alone after all" the guy, y/n didn't care to catch the name of said "look, I don't dance, not unless the company is worth it, and I'm here with someone, leave me alone, this is getting annoying" Sukuna observed laughing to himself. He didn't feel the need to intervene yet. Y/n didn't like getting bossed around that's for sure, nor did she need a knight in shining armour to protect her, not that he would mind doing that. Sukuna casually sat down beside her again, ignoring the guy who was still standing there for some reason. That irritated him, it was enough that he tried to make a move on her, but not leaving while he was right there rubbed him the wrong way, "Here you go sweetheart" He said handing her the glass, praying that she won't drop and break it, he threw a glare at the guy who finally took the hint and left. "Thank you 'kuna." Y/n spoke, in a tone totally different from the one she had moments ago.

The nickname alone made his heart jump. Gojo was quite annoying when he called him that, but hearing the same word rolling out of y/n's tongue was completely different. Sukuna couldn't tell why he was feeling that way, he didn't care though, all he knew was that even the air smelled sweeter, when he was around her.

"You don't dance unless the company is good?" He asked, genuinely curious "well yes, if I feel comfortable I'll dance, but I don't really do it that much" she said, eyes heavy looking all over Sukuna's frame. " I see, how about we dance?" Sukuna suggested, he rarely danced himself, y/n made him want to get out of his comfort zone, hell he's already at a house party thanks to her.

"Only if you take some shots with me." She smilled at him malevolently. "You're playing dirty, who's going to take you home if I'm drunk?" Sukuna just wanted to hear her drunken logic "It probably takes a bottle for you to get drunk, you're clumsy, drunk or not, you're probably going to kill me if I get in your car".

Sukuna was full blown laughing, but she was right, her head was still not gone, she could walk and talk fine, she was just more talkative and cheerful, couple of shots wouldn't hurt, he could walk her home after since she lived close by, he remembered the way and then walk back home himself. She also gave him the cutest look he'd ever seen, how could he deny her?

"Ok you win" he raised his hands in defeat and y/n couldn't be happier. She poured 4 shots for them, which they quickly consumed and they were off to dance.

She never pictured him as a dancer, y/n saw Sukuna as the very cool looking dude standing on the bar, probably drinking whiskey with a bit of ice.

Looks can be deceiving, Sukuna was spinning her around, their bodies were pressed together, guiding each other to the beat. Eyes were meeting, body heat was exchanged, they fit like puzzle pieces even like this. Y/n kept looking at the exposed skin of his neck, why did he have to look like that and be this close, her face only grew warmer once her eyes met his and then dropped to his lips. Its not that Sukuna didn't want to kiss her, he would most certainly prefer her to be sober and remember it clearly the next day.

Those last two shots y/n had, in addition to Sukuna's body against hers, made her vision a bit blurry and her knees weak. "Hey doll, everything ok? You with me?" He shook her lightly by the shoulders, he could tell she was growing tired and he noticed how her demeanor changed. "Mhm, I'm sleepy 'kuna" there she goes again, making his heart skip beats. Y/n would be giving him so much shit had she realised she made him feel like that. "Ok then, how about we take you home ?" Sukuna's voice was so mellow, almost like he was talking to a toddler.

He guided her out of the crowded house, Todo was nowhere to be found, so Sukuna couldn't really let him know he was leaving.

Y/n was leaning on him, walking slowly down the street towards her place, but she abruptly stopped and sat down.

"What's wrong?" Sukuna asked, his sound as mellow as before. She was down right adorable, sitting there with a pout of her face .

"My feet hurt" y/n complained, dramatically throwing her arms around, if it was any other person Sukuna would've droped them to fend for themselves. "Really? That's sad" he replied, dropping down to her level, she only nodded, women's shoes are the most uncomfortable thing in the world. Sukuna scooped her up in his arms and carried her bridal style the rest of the way, he couldn't have her complaining and it wasn't like she would remember much either. With her arms wrapped securely around his neck, y/n could feel the warmth creeping up her neck all the way up to her ears, she didn't see the satisfied smile Sukuna wore.

Today went a lot better than he expected. So well that the tiredness got to y/n before they reached her apartment. Sukuna watched as she fell asleep in his arms. What a strange girl, she had both shyness and attitude, she was dancing her heart out no more than 15 minutes ago yet she still managed to fall asleep as he carried her.

Reaching her building, luckily the main entrance was unlocked. Sukuna took a peek at her, he couldn't bring himself to wake her up, she looked so peaceful, but unfortunately he had to. "Hey, which floor are you on?" He whispered softly, that was enough to shake y/n awake. "Third" she whispered back. Sukuna took the elevator up, and he finally reached her hallway, he only wished she didn't get her floor wrong or it would look like he was trying to break into someone else's house. "Doll, can you point your door for me? I'll put you down for a bit, where are your keys?" Y/n pointed at her door, handed Sukuna her keys and groaned as he set her down to unlock it for her. "You're such a brat" he pointed out swinging the door open, her annoyed face looked even cutter under the barely lit hallway.

Lord knows how Sukuna managed to find the light switches in the dark but he made it, y/n looked completely out of it now. He picked her back up and tried a few doors to find her bedroom. He gently layed her on the mattress. Y/n groaned again and said something about being uncomfortable. Of course she was uncomfortable, with her clothes still on from going out, there's no way she wasn't.

He shouldn't care right? He should just let her be and go home, but Sukuna could already tell she would have an awful nights sleep and he wanted her to rest properly. "Were do you keep sleep clothes" he asked, y/n pointed lazily at some drawer. After briefly digging in the drawer, he took out a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie for her.

He reached her frame again, undoing her shoes, sliding them off, next he prompted y/n with her side resting on the headboard so he could have her sit up with her legs dangling of the side of her bed. His hands found the rim of her shirt, her voice stopped him "don't look ok?" Her voice was hardly above a whisper. "I won't look"

"Promise?" She asked holding out her pinky

"promise" he stated locking it.

Sukuna averted his eyes from her body and helped her into her comfy clothes. Only one thing remained "Now come on time to get your makeup off"

"Nooo, I want to sleep" she complained loudly, dropping her body backwards on the bed. "Come on, it's not good for your skin, it will just be a minute, just be good for me" he said grabbing her hand, but y/n turned her head away. That's when Sukuna threw her over his shoulder, the most she could do was weakly hit his back and tell at him to put her down.

Sukuna sat her somewhere in her bathroom, while she still mumbled about being sleepy. He got a washcloth wet, and took a look at the products in her cabinet, she surely had an oil cleanser he just had to find it... bingo.

He pushed her hair out of the way and gently applied and massaged the product on to her skin, giving her instructions to keep her eyes and mouth close, he was extra careful not to cut her with his nails, then he used the washcloth to remove all the make-up that melted off. Sukuna also wore liner, not all the time but often enough to know that some things didn't come off with soap and water. He takes care of himself, his skin, his hair, his nails, everything. He knows a bit more than he's willing to share. Next he followed the same steps with her cleaner, y/n was enjoying herself, half asleep under his touch. He finished everything by applying a serum and a moisturizer on her face. "You've got the cheap stuff." He joked. "Hey it works" y/n defended as he picked her up once more.

This time he layed her under the covers, he pulled them up over her body, looking at her with plain adoration, he leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep tight, I'll text you." He whispered in her ear, turning around to leave. A hand tugged oh his wrist, the same way he had done to her a couple days ago. Y/n was looking at him with pleading eyes "please stay" she almost begged, "are you sure? Its really late" he said, y/n nodded patting the spot beside her, he couldn't say no to those eyes. He quickly got rid of his shoes and dress shirt, he disappeared to the bathroom to take off his eyeliner and got under the covers with her.

Y/n curled up next to him, laying her head on his chest, taking in all his warmth and scent while listening to his heartbeat, his arm was wrapped securely around her.

" Can I ask you something?" Y/n's voice broke the silence. "Didn't you want to sleep?" Sukuna teased, and y/n took the opportunity to ask anyway. "Why do you like me?" What kind of question is this? Sukuna blamed the fact that she was a bit out it. She had no reason to be insecure, she was stunning and she also had a personality to back up her looks. "Let's see... you're kind of a badass, no one really talks back to me like you do, you're quite easy on the eyes too" what he said was very true, but he was falling for the little details too. The way she picked mindlessly at her food as she talked when he took her out, or the way her eyes sparkled when something peaked her interest. Even her drunken self had him feeling things he never did.

"How come you were single? Judging by your friends it's been a while" The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, but y/n didn't give any signs of being bothered by his assumption. "Honestly, I don't want someone to fall out of love and leave me behind" Drunken words are sober thoughts. Sukuna didn't want to ask if that had happened to her before, he didn't care, he would do better than whoever hurt her.

More moments passed with him rubbing comforting circles on her back, he was sure she was asleep, her breath was slow and steady against his chest. "I wonder, what would you say if I asked you to be mine?" Sukuna whispered, staring up at her ceiling. "I'd say yes, airhead" y/n mumbled. Sukuna's eyes widened, she wasn't supposed to hear that. "I'll make sure to ask you soon then" he said, y/n looked up at him, this time he couldn't help himself and captured her lips in his, in a very slow passionate kiss. It didn't last long but it was enough to keep y/n's head spinning around with him running through it. "Sleep already, brat"

"okay 'kuna".

The light coming in, beaming through her curtains, woke y/n from a very peaceful sleep, now all she felt was the vodka she consumed the night before. Her head was pounding hard, she reached for her phone on her nightstand. Instead of her phone, her hand made contact with a piece of paper.

Good morning doll.

You're most definitely feeling like shit, but don't worry you didn't do anything too embarrassing. Unfortunately I had to go to work early and you looked cute sleeping, I didn't want to wake you. There are pain killers next to you, you must have a hell of a headache. Don't forget to eat, I made breakfast for you in the kitchen (with all I could manage to find, you should go grocery shopping more often). Text me or I might think you died in your sleep. Have a wonderful day y/n.

- Sukuna

PS I took a peek in one of your notebooks. I was right, your handwriting is really fucking bad.

Of course he had to be his usual smug self, y/n found herself laughing at the words scribbled on the paper that was obviously ripped out of one of her notebooks. His handwriting was as pretty as his drawings, so aesthetically pleasing. He had even taken time to doodle coffee cups, and some trees at the bottom of the page.

The events from the previous night were starting to flood back to her head head. She took the pain killers Sukuna left out for her, he was kind enough to place a glass of water on her nightstand too. Y/n couldn't believe Sukuna not only stayed over, but he also put in so much effort for her, he certainly didn't look like the type to do so.

Walking in her kitchen, what she witnessed, exceeded all her expectations. When she read breakfast she thought he made her a sandwich, which she would've been extremely grateful for. Sukuna had gone all out, from pancakes, to French toast, an omelet and even her coffee served. She just stood there looking at her table, mouth almost hanging.

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her sweat pants.

You should've told me you were going out with Yuuji's hot brother. I would've never guessed that's your type.

Mai seemed to be in a mood to tease her.

You're right I should've told you, your turn, where did you and Yuuji run off to last night?

Y/n laughed knowing it was going to take a while to get a response. She sat down looking at all the choices she had, wondering what to pick. It's safe to say everything was as delicious as Sukuna.

I'm impressed. You draw, you cook AND you didn't burn down my house, I'm very thankful for that (breakfast was delicious too).

Sukuna, stared down at his phone, all the stress he had two nights ago long forgotten. Only thing that remained was to get y/n right back in his chair.

Happy to hear you're alive and kicking and you enjoy my cooking. I've got to go through, some dickbag wants me to do a cover-up. I'll talk to you later.

He dealt with this client in an unusually polite manner. Y/n had brighten his morning from the moment he woke up next to her.

Bonus Domain shenanigans: "Yuuji was right, I had to push him" Geto said to an agitated Gojo, who wanted to get under Sukuna's skin for a little longer. "Then hopefully he will bring her over, that would for sure be fun, he's going to get so worked up if we give her any attention." Gojo was rubbing his hands together at the thought. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not that worried about what Sukuna will do to you, we've both seen y/n, she doesn't even take his shit, I think she'd hit you." Nanami pointed out ."Well I haven't yet seen her, Yuuji said she was nice to him." Megumi joined the conversation remembering his friend talking about the girl, he had zoned out for half of it though. "I haven't seen her either, I did hear her though, she doesn't sound like she would let you pull something like that to him" Geto spoke again. "Nah she looked friendly, we can for sure make him foam at the mouth" Gojo plotted. "I can guarantee, she will rip of your head of if you try your shit." Sukuna was sure of it too.

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#ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #au sukuna #au ryomen sukuna #tattoo artist sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fluff #Spotify

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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 36

Sorry about the delay. But now its here and its ready for consumption.

Also, Shout to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as ShamelesslyRomantic,

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

_____________________________________________________________

“Finished,” the artist akuma stated as he addressed his master.

Masquerade got up from her throne to look at the room. The classroom had been transformed into a rather spacious throne room. The artist had erased and redrawn walls to ensure the room was much larger. This new space also had several large windows adorned with elegant black and white curtains hanging from the top. Reflekta servants decked out in masquerade themed armor stood at attention on each step leading to her throne. Beautiful artwork of her decorated the walls, including an imposing portrait of her behind her throne that made it look as if she was looking down at everyone looking up at it. To her that came off as self-interested yet tasteful. The masked akuma even loved the addition of a red carpet that led up to her throne.

“This is quite satisfactory, Evillustrator. Just be sure to reinforce the walls of the room then head to the roof and locate Simularé. I want this place to be a fortress,” Masquerade ordered

“Understood,” the akuma nodded, his expression unreadable from the white face mask. He quickly headed to the door out of the room and Stone heart was guarding the door with his large frame and had to let the artist out.

“Gamer! Robostus! Status report!”

“We have made it so we could hack into every screen in Paris that is connected to the internet, as per your request,” the Gamer responded in monotone.

Masquerade smiled at that.

“Excellent. Do we have the cameras ready?”

The Reflekta copies near the robot akuma were being outfitted with recording gear.

“Affirmative, we will be ready to go live at your request.”

The masked akuma smiled at that news, she turned her attention to Princess Fragrance and the original Reflekta, who had just finished turning the last of the captured individuals into obedient copies of her.

“Has everyone in the school been rounded up and handled?”

“Dark Cupid and Reverser are doing a final sweep of any runaway stragglers. Stormy weather is going around flooding and freezing any empty hallways to flush out any that are hiding. There are Reflekta copies guarding the blocked off exits should anyone try and escape. But over 96% of the student body has been accounted for and 99% of all Faculty.” Princess Fragrance answered.

‘The missing ones are likely Marinette and Adrien. Those two never did make anything easy for me, did they? But it didn’t matter, their luck would run out soon enough. Once Ladybug and Chat noir were handled, then I could focus on making them pay,’ Masquerade grinned to herself.

She could picture how it would be, finding them and seeing their desperate faces as they realized that no hero would be able to save them. The first thing she would do was show them both her little empire. They thought she was bad when she had the school wrapped around her finger, they will be mortified when they see Paris. She would have all their friends and family captured, their best friends leading the cruel treatment of the rest. This would have them in tears and begging for mercy.

She did once consider letting Adrien be her boyfriend, with some perfume to sway him. He would have been a perfect boytoy to taunt Marinette with, but Masquerade realized how far above him she was now. She didn’t need him anymore, and truthfully, he was just as bad as Marinette, if not worse. Marinette had the audacity to dislike her and challenge her, but Adrien, he was so condescending, acting like she should be better than her actions. She could swear she saw pity in his eyes, and that was so much worse.

Though she wasn’t completely heartless, if they begged to be her personal servants and apologized for standing against her, then maybe she would let them have some mercy. Having Marinette clean up after her and make those admittedly delicious baked goods would be nice and having Adrien wait on her hand and foot like a personal butler would be quite fun. Maybe they would think if they did a good enough job their families would suffer less.

She did want to daydream about that idea more but she knew that she needed to focus on the present.

“Alright, Let’s start moving to stage 2. Gamer! I want a comprehensive list of every akuma victim outside of the school. Robostus! Make sure the cameras and broadcast are ready when I tell you. I want everything to go off without a hitch.”

“Affirmative!” Gamer and Robostus responded in equal robotic unison.

“Reflekta! Princess Fragrance! After all of the copies pick up the stragglers, I want you scanning the area for Ladybug and Chat noir. Bubbler and Lady Wifi… wait. I think I remember something.”

She paused to check her charm, she noticed the question mark charm and touched it, allowing her to focus and see what akuma it was.

“Cancel that order, remain on standby unless we get approached.”

“Yes… so this is what that voice meant by merging. How very interesting. I think I will let that new akuma keep its directive. Ladybug and Chat noir will have no chance of beating...”

An akuma merged with Lady Wifi, Bubbler and Oblivio. Combined to make something new. Something that she knew even the heroes would have trouble fighting.

“Deadzone.” Masquerade said with a devilish grin.

______________________________________________________________________________

Ladybug and Chat Noir made their way down the hall. They easily dealt with a few Reflekta clones without much effort and continued moving.

They were expecting to see more akuma lurking about, but strangely, the halls they were walking down were all either empty or only covered by Reflekta duplicates.

“Masquerade likely has her stronger forces consolidating after bringing in as many people to her as they could. Those that didn’t hit the mark likely got turned into the copies we bumped into.” Ladybug answered.

“That does explain why they were singing, like when Princess Fragrance made servants,” the cat hero added.

“This might be our only time to catch a break before confronting her.”

“So, since we have time, do you mind if I ask if you're free to go on Patrol tonight?” the cat hero casually inquired.

Ladybug stopped.

“Tonight? That is quite sudden. Plus, we still don’t know how this will play out.” Ladybug gestured to the school.

“Well I am going to assume we stop the akuma and save the day like always.” Chat noir commented. “Call it a safe bet, but we usually win.”

“Always the positive outlook, Chaton. I’m glad you have so much faith in us despite our numbers disadvantage.”

“You said it yourself, most of the servants are pushovers or just puppets. The only real threat is Lila. And we have faced worse."

“True, but not anything this sinister,” Ladybug tacked on.

“Didn’t we fight Hawkmoth a couple of months back?” Chat noir asked with a twinge of confusion. Was Ladybug implying what he thought she was?

Ladybug held her tongue.

“You’re kidding right? You think Lila is eviler than Hawkmoth!” Chat Noir exclaimed in shock.

“No no no! Not eviler … just a bit cleverer than him,” Ladybug confessed.

Chat noir looked at his partner skeptically, but then considered her words.

“She is manipulative. Considering even without being akumatized she has done some rather twisted stuff. But thinking she is evil is a bit much. Especially when there is someone responsible for forcing emotionally vulnerable people to do his bidding,” Chat noir pointed out.

“Isn’t that what she is doing right now?”

“Yes, but she was akumatized. If we started blaming people for their actions as akuma we would have to throw innocent people in jail.”

“Right… but you read that article on the Ladyblog right? She could be more than just a victim of Hawkmoth, she could be an ally.”

The Cat hero thought about it more but was still not entirely convinced.

“I guess underestimating her would be dumb, but maybe she isn’t completely evil. I mean Chloé ended up showing a bit of humanity and did some good, maybe Lila is capable of it too.”

The crimson clad heroine smiled a bit.

“That’s what I like about you, Chat, you always focus on the good in others.”

The black clad hero gave a Cheshire grin.

“When it comes to the team, you’re the brains, and I’m the sidekick who brings the smiles and the heartfelt speeches.”

“You aren’t my sidekick, Chat Noir, we are partners. And you could be the brains too, if you would use yours outside of pun making.” Ladybug playfully bonked his noggin.

The cat chuckled at the playful teasing.

“Fair enough, but I can’t help it if I FELINE making a quip.”

Ladybug could feel herself groan at the lame joke.

“I take it back… you are the sidekick,” Ladybug deadpanned, her tone of mock annoyance causing the cat to chuckle.

“Alright I’ll…” He stopped speaking as he noticed something was amiss.

Chat Noir’s left ear twitched. He heard approaching footsteps.

“We better get moving, this abandoned hallway isn’t going to be so abandoned in a minute.”

“More Reflekta clones?”

Chat Noir extended the staff to the ground, his face showing a sudden sternness.

“No… Winter is coming.”

______________________________________________________________________________

Viperion peered through the door of the locker room.

“Clear.”

The snake and dragon heroes entered with their akuma prisoner.

“Pick a locker and let’s toss her in,” Ryuuko commented as she held the squirming akuma.

The two paused their movement when they heard a rustling in the lockers.

“Do you hear that?” Viperion questioned.

“How could I not?” Ryuuko replied.

Just as the two stared at the rustling lockers. The two shaking lockers doors flew off their hinges.

And stepped out an akuma that neither hero recognized.

“I don’t remember seeing that akuma before,” Ryuuko stated.

“Neither do I, but it seems vaguely familiar,” Viperion responded.

As the Akuma was gathering its bearings, the heroes tried to gauge its powers. It had broad shoulders that had spherical, dark purple balls around them, which were connected to tight black sleeves with 3 white circular stripes at the end that ended at his wrists. Its left hand had a fingerless black glove which showed its skin akin to a purple silhouette. The other hand was what appeared to be a black laser canon with a phone attached to it. On its back was a large red, purple and black pipe which seemed to act as a holster to a blue bubble wand. Its face was obscured by a large white theater mask much like all the other akuma. But there was the impression that it had distinct features. Its chest had a rounded purple bubble on the top half of its body akin to round armor and it had a logo that appeared to be a WiFi signal within an eye in a cage. The lower half appeared more akin to a skintight jumpsuit that was black with white stripes at the feet.

The akuma turned its attention to the two heroes.

“So umm… what are you doing in the locker room?”

“Merge complete, Deadzone is active. Mission objective, Capture Ladybug and Chat Noir,” The akuma answered in a robotic tone less as a response to the question and more as a statement, their voice sounded like the mix of two people.

“Well, Deadzone, we can’t let you do that!” Ryuuko exclaimed as she glared at the akuma.

The akuma pointed its blaster at her.

“Your opinion on that really doesn’t have an impact on us.”

Deadzone’s left hand touched the phone on their blaster, and a purple bubble with a pause insignia shot out. Ryuuko and Viperion both jumped back as the bubble had direct contact with their akuma prisoner, causing her to be motionless as the bubble turned green and floated to the roof of the room.

“Okay, so don’t touch the bubbles,” Viperion noted.

“Positive side, we don’t need to worry about that one akuma,” Ryuuko commented.

Viperion and Ryuuko knew this akuma would be trouble if it got to Ladybug and Chat noir. They were going to need to find a way to stop it.

______________________________________________________________________

Fu had been observing the spoiled Mayor’s daughter after her confrontation with the Reflekta replicas. Using it as a means to help him find Ladybug and Chat Noir. He was aware that this girl had a knack for getting into trouble and making akuma target her, so it would not be too far off to assume she would be useful in locating his chosen. He would have called her, but communication was down, so he would need to adapt. But now he had a rather interesting quandary.

“Should I lend her the miraculous or not?” Fu spoke quietly as he pondered.

It was a tougher question he had initially thought. If he was asked if she was worthy of being a miraculous user, the answer would undoubtedly be negative. She was clearly a spoiled brat who saw herself above others. But after the events when the bee miraculous temporarily fell into her hands, he had started observing her. He did this with all of the chosen ones that Marinette had picked. Not because he didn’t trust his student, but more out of curiosity of why Marinette picked these individuals.

With the one she picked for the fox miraculous, Fu could see that the girl valued justice, but was cunning and saw the importance of distinguishing truth from illusion, an ideal pick for the fox miraculous. As for the Turtle miraculous wielder, Wayzz spoke highly of Nino, which really made him curious about the young lad. That boy showed a willingness to protect those close to him even if it meant getting hurt, and the calm to be ready to wait and roll with things. The miraculous of protection required someone that can keep a cool head and be ready to defend at the drop of a hat.

The other temporary heroes matched pretty well with the traits of the Kwami and were all good people deep down. Fu had no doubts that Marinette had the instincts of a guardian. The only one that brought doubt was Chloé. After the incident where she found the miraculous and got akumatized, Chloé was trusted with the bee miraculous 3 times. And her record had been mixed but overall she was decent when she fell in line and worked with Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Marinette mentioned that she didn’t want to trust Chloé with the miraculous after the last time. But has admitted to Fu that if needed she was a decent Bee heroine.

But if he was wrong and she decided to use this chance to stay being a miraculous wielder, he would have to deal with her as a rogue. Though, considering the circumstances, that would honestly not be the worst situation, as her identity was public and Ladybug and Chat Noir would deal with her like before.

“Wayzz, what do you think?”

His kwami companion popped out of his shirt pocket.

“This is quite a dilemma, Master. The situation is dire, but putting the miraculous in the wrong hands would also make things worse. Perhaps Pollen would be able to give better insight.”

“Very true, my friend.” Fu patted the kwami.

Fu cautiously went into the cleaning cart and pulled out the Bee Miraculous. The bee kwami popped out.

“Good morning, Master,” Pollen greeted the guardian with respect.

“Good afternoon, Pollen. We have a situation and I would like to know your opinion.”

“Very well, I am happy to serve,” The bee kwami replied.

“What do you think of Chloé Bourgeois? The one that used your miraculous recently.”

The kwami put her little hand to her face as she compiled her thoughts.

“She is complicated, Master. She didn’t talk to me much but I kind of got to feel a lot about who she was as a person. She is brash, she is confident, yet she is insecure. She is blunt, stubborn, and set in her ways. But I can tell that she is at a crossroads in her life. There is some small part of her that wants to be good and do good for others outside of herself, but her upbringing has made such a mindset seem like weakness, and she is scared of letting herself be vulnerable. Ladybug has been a good influence on her, but she is still immature in several aspects. She has the potential to be a good queen. If she could break through that self-imposed selfish mentality, she could be something extraordinary,” Pollen explained, finally.

“I see, well that is quite informative. Thank you,” Fu responded, nodding thoughtfully.

He put the Bee Miraculous back in a tiny box, causing her to go dormant.

“So, she is at a crossroad.” Fu repeated as he stroked his chin

He turned his attention back to Chloé, who had continued walking towards another dead end. When he caught the eye of approaching Reflekta clones. And with that, Fu figured out a way to know.

“I think I just found a way to know the correct answer.”

______________________________________________________________________

“I swear this place is a maze.” Mayura grumbled to herself as she walked the halls.

She noticed her fan shake, notifying her of someone calling. It was Hawkmoth

“Yes?”

“Mayura what are you doing?! You were supposed to find the target and get out!” Hawkmoth exclaimed angrily. “And why did you transform? You knowutilizing the Peacock Miraculous is dangerous.”

Though she wouldn’t admit it, she was somewhat touched by the concern in his voice. Unfortunately, she did not have time to dwell on that so she was going to ignore it, as she had a task at hand

“Some unforeseen circumstances have caused some rather unfortunate delays. I am going to locate the sentimonster and gather information regarding the target. Afterwards, I will assist in getting Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.” Mayura responded.

As she was speaking, an akuma with black wings flew into view along with an akuma riding a paper airplane.

“Seems the akuma servants have located me.”

She notices the akuma began preparing to attack her. They were practically mindless puppets that saw anyone who wasn’t their master as an enemy. This was quite an oversight, but it fit with the motif of the akuma villain. She felt the emotions of that girl, she knew exactly the type of insecurities Lila held. Thankfully for her, it meant they could easily be exploited.

“Get out of there this instant it is too dangerous. You are in no shape to…”

The akumas aimed at the unidentified villainess and fired off paper airplanes and arrows.

“We will discuss this later.” Mayura hung up before turning her attention to the two servants of Masquerade.

Mayura dashed through the hall, expertly avoiding projectiles and blocking with her fan those she couldn’t dodge. She jumped onto Reverser’s glider, grabbed the akuma and threw him at the flying Dark Cupid, leaving the two dazed and tangled together.

“I’m weakened, not helpless,” Mayura commented as she dusted herself off and hopped off the floating paper airplane.

She noticed that the two akuma that attacked her were slow in getting up.

‘Seems the akuma created by Masquerade aren’t just mindless, they are also rather slow in reacting. Ladybug and Chat Noir can exploit that. I suppose with the number of servants she made, this was to be expected. I should locate Simularé and get some details on our akuma’s little plan. I should step in and seize control if she gets too distracted like the last one. Gabriel has always been far too cautious when it comes to his plans, it’s time we were more active.’ Mayura mentally concluded.

She closed her eyes and focused on locating the sentimonster.

“She is on the roof. Odd placement for her most powerful ally, but I suppose there must be some sort of logical reason for what she is planning,” Mayura rationalized.

The peacock themed villainess noticed that the akuma that attacked her were starting to move again, and she decided to pick up her pace a bit.

______________________________________________________________________________

“This is super ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” she exclaimed with anger. “Not a single exit in this place! Why is every exit coated in icky slime?”

She checked her phone.

“And still no signal.”

She ended up chucking her phone out of frustration.

“I wish Ladybug would just get here and beat the akuma, or better yet, come here and give me the bee miraculous so I can help kick butt,” she grumbled as she went to go see where she threw her phone. She'd remembered she actually liked the case she just bought for it and losing that would be a waste.

“H-help me please!” The wails of a person in danger caught Chloé’s attention.

“That sounds like a non-me issue,” the blonde told herself. As she continued walking to her phone.

“If only there was someone here to save me!” the voice called out again.

Chloé stopped moving for a moment.

“Well I am not a hero without the Bee, so I guess he better hope Ladybug and Chat Noir are nearby, or maybe those other two costumed nobodies that I saw earlier,” she said, clearly trying to convince herself not to do anything.

“Please! Ladybug! Chat Noir…. “

"The heroes will handle it." Chloé reasoned with herself as she picked up her phone. Now getting ready to go somewhere else and likely away from the screaming.

“ And a…Queen Bee.”

Chloé’s eyes went wide. Did someone call out for… Queen Bee?!

Chloé started dashing down the halls to the sound of the voice.

“Did someone call for a hero!” Chloé called out, looking confident.

She arrived to see an old man in an ugly Hawaiian shirt being cornered by 3 Reflekta copies. The akuma copies turn to Chloé.

“Surrender,” they sing-songed as they began to approach.

Chloé ran right at them, and proceeded to push them into each other, and let the impractical heels make it hard for them to get back up.

She rushed to the old man.

“Don’t worry, old man with good taste in heroes and nothing else. I, Queen Bee, am here to save you,” Chloé blustered.

“Thank you.” Fu said with a forced smile. She clearly only came when he mentioned her name. But she did show up. In hindsight, maybe his test was not as conclusive as he thought. But then again, he actually planned those out more.

Chloé looked around.

“Alright old man, normally I would have just left you to get saved by Ladybug, but you have good taste in heroes, so I am going to help you out. We need to move before those creepy akumas get back up. So follow me, I know a place you can hide out.” Her tone tried to come off as abrasive, but it did show an inkling of care.

Chloé began moving away from the cluster of Reflektas. The old man shrugged and followed behind. He supposed that this would be another good test for her. Maybe he will get a more definitive answer by keeping an eye on her. And if worse comes to worse, he had a feeling she would make a good distraction should he need to escape a band of akuma.

______________________________________________________________________

“Did you just make a...”

Ladybug was able to pick up on the sound of harsh wind heading their way and decided her scolding of lame references could wait for later. She grabbed her partner's arm and pulled him into the nearby science lab.

She quickly closed the door just as a cold front blasted right past them. The window on the door was covered in ice.

“Stormy Weather?”

“Stormy Weather.”

The two both look at each other with a bit of worry. The storm akuma was one of their more powerful foes, and with complete control of the weather in such a tight space, things were going to get tough.

“Any ideas?”

Ladybug weighed her options. Would now be the time to use her lucky charm? or should she save it for when they are in front of Masquerade? It was starting to get harder to make that call.

“We can’t have her roaming the halls, we will need to incapacitate her. So I say have your ice power up ready, and be ready to swap power ups at the drop of a hat. Stormy Weather may be tough, but we still have tricks up our sleeve.”

Chat Noir nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir both popped their Ice blue power ups and shift into their Ice forms. The two watched as the other’s suit gained ice skates, ice crystal and snowflake accents, becoming Ladyice and Icecat.

(AN: Yes, according to the Wiki, that’s what they are calling them. Personally, I would have called them Ladyfrost and Cold noir/ Cool Cat but that’s just me. This isn’t relevant to the story, I just wanted you all to know that.)

“You know, Ladybug, you really give off the ice skater vibe. Would you say you have experience ice skating outside of this form?” Chat Noir asked.

Ladybug felt her mind flash to her date with Adrien and her cheeks turned red.

“I- I may have some experience. And how about you, Kitty?” she deflected.

“Well, now that you mention it, I…”

They heard a loud bang on the door, cracking the ice that covered the window to reveal the white theater mask that Stormy Weather had covering her face.

“I’m gonna give it to her, she really knows how to break the Ice,” Chat Noir joked.

“Chaton, cool it with all of the ice puns,” she stated.

“Wait, was that a pun? My Lady I... OH SHI…”

A large ice stalactite burst through the door interrupting their banter and almost skewering them.

Chat Noir was about to say something when Ladybug cut in.

“Chat Noir, you are my partner and I respect you greatly. But so help me, if you say we should put this conversation on ‘Freeze’, I will not save you if you get impaled.” Ladybug stated.

Chat Noir paused.

“You know me so well,” he said with a smile.

The two watched as Stormy Weather entered the room through the stalactite hole.

______________________________________________________________________

“Hey Viperion?”

“Yea Ryuuko?”

“We both agree that we need to stop that crazy akuma right?”

“That is correct.”

“Then why are you carrying me away from it!?” Ryuuko exclaimed.

Viperion had picked up the dragon heroine fireman style in order to pull her away from the pursuing akuma.

“Do you want the reasons in alphabetical order?” the snake hero sassed.

“We can take it,” Ryuuko asserted. “We can’t retreat! There is no honor in it!”

“Well considering neither of our weapons can touch them, the concept of honor has flown out the window. Not to mention, I seriously doubt that we can take them on without a plan, and don’t say ‘try to hit them harder’ is a plan. It isn’t.”

Viperion had a smug look as he noticed Ryuuko look away.

“You’re right, but I'm mad about it,” the dragon heroine huffed.

“I can live with that.”

Viperion took a sharp left and noticed a dozen Reflekta duplicates.

“Juleka?”

“Come with us,” the clones sang.

“I’m going to assume they aren’t her,” Ryuuko said as she got off Viperion’s shoulders.

She punched his arm.

“Ow.”

“Your shoulder was bumpy.”

Ryuuko drew her weapon and dashed past the group of Reflekta clones. After a second, she holstered her weapon and all of the clones dropped to the floor groaning.

“Wow.” Viperion was impressed. He had to admit that it was super cool.

“Don’t worry, I used the flat end of the sword. They will be fine, and hopefully they will slow down the akuma.”

The two continued running, but glanced back as Deadzone arrived. He looked at the clones getting up and blasted each one into a green bubble in which they remained motionless and floated to the ceiling of the hall.

“It can’t distinguish between friend or foe,” Viperion commented.

“What?”

Viperion turned to his comrade.

“I think I just got an idea.”

__________________________________________________________________________

“This way,” the bossy blond teen motioned.

Fu pushed his janitor cart as they moved in the hallway.

“Do you really need to move that hideous thing with us?” Chloé questioned with clear aggravation.

“It's very important,” Fu responded.

“Ugh, whatever. Just move faster, then.”

Fu nodded and picked up the pace.

The mayor’s daughter led them down the hall and they had managed to avoid attracting attention.

“Okay, we are here.”

Fu looked at the door and realized that it was the nurse’s office.

“Hopefully the nurse didn’t get herself captured while I was gone.”

Chloé went to open the door and noticed it was locked.

“What the…”

“Let me try.” Fu interjected.

“Fine, just hurry up.”

He pulls out a jingling set of keys. Chloé shrugged as she turned around to keep watch.

Fu let his kwami companion out to open the door. Wayzz quickly undid the lock and opened the door before sliding back out of view.

“All done,” Fu said.

Chloé turned around as Fu opened the door.

The two quickly ran inside and locked the door behind them.

“Nurse Arugula!” Chloé called out. “I have a guest for you!”

“Arugala?”

“It was something with an A.” Chloé commented.

The two waited a few seconds, but there was no response.

They moved deeper into the office.

“Are you here?” Chloé questioned.

They flicked on the light switch to see the nurse in the cot.

“Oh, that’s great, I leave to go get help and be a hero and she goes off napping!” Chloé fumed.

Fu moved to the nurse and noticed she had a bruise on her neck, indicating that she was clearly forced into this state. He jabbed a pressure point and the nurse jolted awake.

“HUAGH!”

She nearly fell out of the cot.

“Glad you can join us from your nap,” Chloé hissed.

“Chloé? Did you call for help?” The nurse inquired as she gathered her bearings.

“No, the school is a total dead zone, and I couldn’t find a way out because they are all blocked by slime. Side note, I found this old guy.”

The nurse turned to the old man.

“Hello. I’m Angela.” She politely introduced herself.

“Nice to meet you. I am… Fung,” Fu lied. He couldn’t be too careful.

“Nice to meet you Fung, despite the circumstances,” she tried to make light of the situation.

“Every meeting can have a positive circumstance if one is looking for it.”

The calm in the air died when Angela realized that someone was missing.

“Oh no! The women you left in my care! She knocked me out and stormed out of here.” Angela exclaimed.

“Welp, she is probably captured,” Chloé shrugged.

“We have to find her, she has some sort of strange illness. Leaving her out there might be dangerous, akuma or not.”

Angela prepared to move to the door but was stopped by Chloé.

“Oh no you don’t! I brought this old man here for safety. You stay here with him.”

“But my patient!”

The woman was clearly shaking, but she was determined, she wanted to help her patient even if it meant going into danger. But much to Fu’s surprise, Chloé stepped up.

“I will bring your patient back. Mostly because being stuck in here seems much worse than dealing with a bunch of dumb akuma.”

Angela hugged Chloé.

“Thank you.”

Chloé tried to look annoyed, but a ghost of a smile appeared on the mayor’s daughter’s face. She accepted the hug for a moment.

Fu took notice. He had made his decision.

“Alright, enough touching! You deal with sick people all day. I don’t want germs,” Chloé stated as she tried to give off her usual air.

“That is very brave of you, young one.” Fu spoke.

“Pff, this is nothing. It’s what heroes do.”

As Chloé began making her way out of the nurse’s office, Fu quietly slipped the tiny miracle box into her bag.

‘I hope this was worth the risk.’

_____________________________________________________________

(END OF CHAPTER)

Well things are really heating up.

Will Ladyice and Icenoir be able to deal with stormy weather? Will Deadzone be the dead end for Ryuuko and Viperion? What is Masquerade's villainous plan? Will I update faster than every 40 or so days?

Let me know your thoughts and if you did enjoy the story.

REBLOG it and comment. Likes are nice but they don't really help content creators like they should.

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sporadically-writing · 2 years

Text

Some Quick Moon Knight Episode 6 Notes Featuring: Penny

Character Bio, Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5

Finale time!

Layla and Penny are justly vengeful when action resumes in the tomb

They decide, given the apparent situation the two find themselves in, that both of them cannot hide out amongst Harrow's crew. While one person would most likely be overlooked, two are easier to stick out. Especially an English woman with blonde hair

With great trepidation, Penny gives Layla a tracker, something she can use to follow at a safe distance and then the two are off to the races

Along the way to the Pyramid of Giza, Penny notices that the sun is shining brighter than she expects it to. The light seemingly always sufficiently guiding her way. She can't really dwell on that though, given how little time there is to free Khonshu and stop Harrow

When she arrives she is able to sneak in to the tomb just behind everyone, covering her distinguishing features as best as possible until she can sneak her way around to where Layla is

Khonshu is released and the girls state just how unwilling both of them are to become his avatar

Harrow blasts a supporting column, causing walls and ceilings to come crashing down, part of the the ceiling comes in between them and Layla and Penny are separated

It's then that Penny hears the call of a falcon and a voice, "Fear not little one."

A tall being with golden armor and the head of a falcon appears before her. The Egyptian God of the Sun, Ra

He offers his services to aid in the fight against Harrow but Penny finds herself refusing. When he asks her why, she lays it out for him. She's done terrible things, caused the deaths of several people, been surrounded by it. She's a monster. Why would The God of the light, the day, life and creation want her as an avatar, Layla's still somewhere in the pyramid, talk to her.

But Ra explains that no. Penny has killed, yes, but she has done it in the service of protecting others. She's never killed anyone who hasn't had ill intentions to harm others.

"But what about Audrey-" "An accident that had nothing to do with you. You have put your own life on the line time after time to protect and defend others. You, Penelope Morestead, are a defender of life. And that is a notion that is very much under threat right now. I will not force you to do anything you do not wish to do, but I would be honored to help you in the coming battle."

Penny then flies back to Cairo, determined to save as many lives as she can

When the gang reunites with each other, everyone is equally in awe of everyone's outfits, powers and each other in general, ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Penny carries a khopesh and sharp throwable plates that look like the circle usually depicted over Ra's head

(Fun Fact: Penny's armor actually gives off orange light, *wink*)

Layla and Penny both end up under fire in one way or another, Layla's wing pinned to the bottom of a bus while being shot at, and Penny desperately trying to use her light to blind an assailant who is dangerously close to stabbing at her neck

Marc blacks out, and a truly terrible display of violence saves the girls. That being a problem they can deal with later, the gang grabs Harrow and takes him to the Chamber of the Gods. They bind Ammit to Harrow's body but Penny and Layla help Marc come to the conclusion not to kill Harrow

The boys are freed and the gang goes back to living in London

Whatever comes next remains to be seen...

#penny morris #steven grant x oc #marc spector x oc #layla el faouly x oc #moon knight oc #marvel oc #mcu oc #my oc stuff #oc notes #moon knight #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly x reader

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americancowgirl19 · 3 years

Text

Prince of Hell

Summary: You’re Esme’s brother. You two haven’t seen each other in a long time but now she needs your help to keep Renesmee safe.

Warnings: Death, violence, a little fluff and a little angst

Reader: Male Reader

Pairings: Demetri Volturi x Male Reader

Word Count: 3,108

A/n: Might make a part two

Masterlist

Esme stands in the doorway of Renesmee’s bedroom. The little girl sleeps soundly without a care in the world. Carlisle comes up behind her and embraces her tenderly.

“She’s going to be ok, we’ll protect her.” Carlisle whispers kissing the side of her head. A couple of hours earlier Alice had gotten the vision about the Volturi coming for Renesmee. They came up with the plan to find witnesses to protect her. Esme fears that it won’t be enough.

“Nothing will ever be the same,” Esme whispers. “The Volturi won’t forgive those who stand on our side. Not everyone has a coven to protect them when this is over. They could pick them off one by one when they leave.”

“We won’t force anybody to help us, they’ll know what they’re getting into.” Carlisle whispers. Esme sighs turning in his arms.

“There’s another option,” Esme whispers. Carlisle tilts his head. She slips out of his arms and leads him toward the living room where the rest of their family sits. They’re all planning on who is going to go to who.

Edward’s the first to look up. Esme has no doubt he’s reading her mind by the curious look on his face. A second later, Alice’s eyes go distant. When she comes back, her eyes fall on Esme.

“What is it?” Bella asks noticing both of their looks. Soon, everyone’s looking at Esme.

“When I was human I was married to a dangerous man,” Esme begins. “When I became pregnant I knew I couldn’t stay with him anymore but I didn’t have the money or the resources to leave,” Esme takes a seat on the plush chair toward the middle of everyone. “So, I went to my brother and told him everything. He got me out that night,” Esme smiles softly as she thinks of you. “We had been close as children but drifted apart as adults. But that night it was like nothing had changed. He took care of me, kept me safe,” Her eyes fall down into her lap. “Then I had the baby and two days later... I lost him,”

“Greyson?” Edward question remembering her son.

When Carlisle changed Esme she had a week old son named Greyson. He grew up with them after Esme learned how to control herself.. He didn’t want to become a vampire and had died of a heart attack only a decade ago.

They had been able to hide him from the Volturi. They had only found out about him when Edward went to Volterra when he believed Bella to be dead. By then, however, Greyson was dead.

“Yes, Greyson,” Esme nods. “He had a lung defect. He was supposed to be dead which is why... Why I jumped off the cliff before Carlisle found me.” Carlisle places a comforting hand on her shoulder. She smiles up at him and places her hand over his.

“How did he survive?” Bella asks.

“My brother, Y/n... He sold his soul to save my son.” Esme told them.

She remembers the day he had done it. Esme had been spiraling and you just knew she wouldn’t live in a world without her son. You couldn’t bare the thought of losing Esme and knew you had to do something to save her son.

By the time you sold your soul, Esme had already jumped off the cliff. You had a few years before the hounds of hell came to collect you. Esme stayed with Carlisle and learned control. A day before your time ended, you found Esme and gave her the five year old son.

“Sold his soul?” Emmett asks, raising an eyebrow. Esme didn’t blame them for being skeptical. There were fewer demons on Earth than vampires. The ones that were on Earth stayed hidden and played with the humans from the shadows.

“He’s a demon.” Alice whispers connecting the dots.

“A demon? Those exist?” Rosalie asks. Esme nods.

“Where do you think nightmares and tragedies come from? Deaths so unexplainable that not even a shapeshifter or a vampire can understand?” Esme asks them. “Most of them are locked away in hell and can only come up if they manage to escape or are summoned by someone. They’re stronger than a thousand newborns combined,”

“That’s why the Volturi were afraid of him,” Alice says thinking back to her recent vision. “None of their powers worked on him and he was more powerful than all of them,”

“So, how do we get in contact with this guy?” Emmett asks.

“It’s not that simple,” Esme tells him. “It’s very dangerous. If we mess up we could be releasing something far more dangerous than him. If we do it right, there’s no guarantee that he’ll help us. He’s been a demon for almost a hundred years, there’s no telling if my brother’s still... himself.”

Bella turns her head toward Edward. Esme watches them waiting for someone to say something. A few moments later, Edward looks back at Esme.

“How do we contact him?”

The moment the question leaves his lips the room drops in temperature. It’s enough to send a shiver through Jake’s spine. The lights flicker as the windows begin to be covered with frost.

“Ask nicely,” Everyone’s head turns toward the corner. Sitting in the shadows is a man dressed in black slacks and button up shirt along with an equally dark vest. His hands are hidden behind gloves with a leather jacket that reaches down to his midthigh.

“Y/n,” Esme whispers standing up. You smirk and push yourself up as well. With a snap of your fingers the lights return to normal and the frost melts away.

“Sorry for the dramatics... I like to make an entrance,” You states, a lop sided smirk on your lips. “I was in the neighborhood, thought I heard someone talking about me so I decided to drop by.” You explain sauntering into the middle of the living room. Your eyes look around, observing the home around you. “I hear you’re in a bit of a bind, little sister.”

“It’s my granddaughter... She needs your help,” Esme tells you. You chuckle darkly before spinning on your heels to look at her.

“It’s always a child with you, isn’t it?” You ask smirking. She gives you a small, unsure smile. “What do you want me to do? I can’t very well sell my soul, I already did that for your first child. One soul, one child,” You sit in a chair, draping your arm over the back, your ankle resting on your knee.

“Do you know of the Volturi?” Your eyes slide away from your sister to the pixie hair cut girl, Alice. You knew everyone in the room. You had been keeping tabs on your little sister and knew who she came in contact with and who she adopted into her family.

“Ah, yes, the Volturi,” You smirk, looking back at Esme. “They’re good for business. Send plenty of souls to hell for us to feed on,” Your comment makes most of them unease. You soak up the anxiety.

“Mommy?” You’re eyes snap to the little girl by the steps. You stand up at the same time her mother flashes beside her. You had heard about this little girl but this is the first time you’ve seen her.

“So, this is the child you so desperately want to protect,” You state, your eyes remain on the girl as you move closer.

“The Volturi believe she’s an immortal child,” Esme says.

“How idiotic,” You whisper kneeling in front of the child. “Her soul is much too bright and her heart is much too active. Hello, little one,”

“Hi,” She whispers, hugging her mothers waist. You send her a small smile and a playful wink before standing up.

“You never answered my question,” You say, turning back to Esme. “What do you want me to do? Kill the coven? Possess them? Make them fall to their knees and beg for mercy?” By the end your lips are curled into a sadistic grin.

Esme looks at you for a moment and all she can feel is sorrow. When you were human the only person you ever wanted to harm was her husband. Now, you would kill and torture without a second thought. In fact, you seemed to enjoy it.

Hell had twisted your soul into someone almost unrecognizable. She was relieved that you held a little bit of goodness in your heart to at least consider helping them.

“We just want them to leave us alone,” Esme tells you. You pout at the boring request.

“Well, I can do that,” You nod walking away from the child not failing to notice how the room relaxed as you put distance between yourself and her. “However, I don’t do anything for free anymore. I’m going to need something in return,” You whisper standing toe-to-toe with Esme. You gently brush your knuckles along her cheek like you used to when you were human and she needed to feel safe. “little sister.”

“What do you want?” Esme asks quietly. You hum stepping away from her.

“Oh, the endless possibilities,” You whisper, sitting down in the chair you had previously occupied. “How much is that little girl worth to you?” You ask the people in the room. “Are you truly willing to make a deal with the Prince of Hell?” You ask.

“Prince of Hell?” Jake asks. Your eyes flicker to him.

“Well, at least I’m not the Devil,” You joke before tilting your head side to side. “Not yet at least,” You shrug. “I’ve been in hell for 80 years... That’s human years, time moves differently down there. Once they dragged me down by my ankles I began working my way up with my hands. My ambition has payed off... Who knows, maybe in another 80 years, you’ll have had the pleasure of knowing the Devil?”

“Lucky us,” Emmett mutters.

“Yes, lucky you, indeed” You growled standing up. “I may be the Prince of Hell but I am still your older brother,” You said looking at Esme. “While my services are no longer free, I will always answer your call. You all are her family which makes you my family which means that I will aid you when you need me but like I said... I don’t work for free.”

“So, what’s your price?” Edward asks. You turn to him. You stare at him for a moment before looking around the room.

“A favor,” You tell them. “One favor,” You hold up your pointer finger and spin around for everyone to see. “A favor anybody, or everybody, in this room can fulfill,”

“And the favor?” Bella asks, tightening her hold on Renesmee. Your smirk you send her is enough to strike fear into her unbeating heart.

“I don’t know,” You shrug putting your hands behind your back. “I will come whenever I am in need of your services. You fulfill my favor and you’re free. I will make sure Renesmee is protected from the Volturi and all will be well again,”

“No,” Esme shakes her head regaining everyone’s attention. You arch an eyebrow at her. “You want someone to do you a favor, you ask me, not my family.” She says sternly. “I will not allow you to hold this over their head,” You smirk deviously.

“You’ve grown clever, little sister” You praise her. “Much smarter than you had been as a human, I’m proud.” Esme holds your gaze. “Fine,” You give in. “One favor and only Esme can fulfill it,” The rest of the family tries to argue but you ignore them and walk up to your sister. “Please don’t die before I cash that favor in,”

“You’ll know how to find me,” Esme tells you. You nod before giving her the first genuine smile you’ve given anyone in decades.

“I am truly happy to see you, little sister,” You whisper to her. You gently kiss her forehead. “Renesmee will be safe, I promise,” You vow because vanishing in thin air.

Within a few seconds, the Volturi castle began to suffer the same side effects of your arrival. All the vampires looked around as the lights flickered and frost covered the windows. When the lights went back to normal, the vampires noticed a new presence in the middle of the throne room.

A few of the Volturi guards hissed in alarm but you paid them no mind. Your eyes zeroed in on the man in the middle, Aro.

“Who are you?!” Caius shouted, standing from his throne. You ignore him which doesn’t help his temper.

“I’ve come to inform you that Renesmee Cullen is not an immortal child, she’s a hybrid. Leave the Cullens alone and I’ll allow you to live.” Aro chuckles while Caius glares harder. Marcus seemed indifferent but his eyes continued to go from you to another vampire.

“And what proof do you have to back up your statement?” Aro asks, stepping closer to you. You smirk.

“I don’t have to answer to you and I’ve already given you your warning. Shall you continue to go against the Cullens, there will be... consequences.” You warn him. “I’ll be watching,” Once the final word leaves your lips, you disappear.

“Intriguing,” Aro whispers before turning to Demetri. “Find him.” Aro orders. Demetri bows before leaving. Only problem, he can hardly feel your tenor.

You kept your eye on the Volturi. Just as you hoped, Aro didn’t stop planning against the Cullens. You were about to prepare yourself to make another appearance when you sensed something.

“I’ve never met anyone who could sneak up on me,” You state, walking to the chair to put your jacket on. “Although, you are the first who’s been able to sneak into my home.” You turn toward the intruder. He slowly comes out of the shadows.

You stare at him and tilt your head. He’s certainly one of the more attractive vampires you’ve seen. Then there’s the fact that he was able to hunt you down. You were impressed and highly curious.

“How did you find me?”

“It’s my ability... I can find anybody,” You hum moving closer to him. His scent begins to fill the room and it was slowly captivating your attention.

“But I’m not just anybody,” You whisper, inching closer to him. “Vampire abilities aren’t supposed to work on me... Not like they usually do, at least”

“And why is that?” He questions. You begin to smirk, sauntering even closer. He shifts on his feet but his eyes remain locked with yours.

“Why do you think?” You ask, not hesitating to invade his personal space. “Come on,” You whisper, taking a deep whiff of his scent. “You know the answer,” Demetri doesn’t answer. “You and your kind wonder the Earth thinking your the demons but you’re just child’s play.”

“Why do you care about the Cullens?” Demetri asks.

“I had a human life at one time, a human life I shared with a Cullen. They asked for a favor and I’m about to go back to the Volturi to finish it. Care to join me?” You ask, offering him your arm. He looks at it, pinching his eyebrows. “It’ll be a lot faster if we do this my way,” You whispers, sending him a wink.

Hesitantly, Demetri links arms with you. You grin at him and transport the both of you from your apartment to the Volturi Castle. When you arrive, Caius stands alarmed. Demetri moves to the side to stand with his fellow guardsmen.

“Aro, Aro, Aro,” You tsk slowly. “You were warned,”

“And I explained that I needed proof. I have to protect us, this child may be a threat.” Aro states.

“Maybe,” You shrug. “But you won’t be around to see it,” You tell him. A few of the vampires growl at you. You pay them no mind.

You then feel a prick in the back of your mind. A familiar feeling you get when a vampire tries to use their abilities on you. Your eyes shift to the blond girl by the steps.

“Performance issues, sweetheart?” You smirk. She snarls at you. You raise your hand to grab the vampire that tried to attack you. You grab his throat and lift him off the ground. “Sloppy,” You whisper and squeeze your hand so tight that his head just pops off. You then straight your vest and adjust your jacket. “Anyone else?” You ask, opening your arms welcomingly.

A most of the guard tries to take you down but you don’t break a sweat dismembering them. They try to use their powers but they’re ineffective on you. You turn your head and notice Demetri standing by you. He rips a nearby guard member to pieces. He turns back to you, his eyes pitch back.

You slowly grin finding his black eyes just ask attractive as his ruby red ones. Tearing your gaze from Demetri, you look back at Aro. The king hisses but before he can move you’re in front of him. You place your hand on either side of his face forcing him to look into your eyes.

“You believe vampires don’t have a soul,” You whisper. “How wrong you are,” You chuckle, feeling your eyes blazing brightly. “You have a soul... It’s just pitch black. No worries, I’ll rid you of it.” Aro begins screaming as you suck his soul out of his body.

As Aro dies in your hands, what’s left of the guard disperses. When Aro’s soul is gone, you toss his body to the side feeling refreshed. It was the first time you consumed a vampire soul. Demon usually leave vampires along but after having a taste of the power his soul gives you. You want more.

“Well, Demetri,” You hum turning toward him. “I have a mission,” You walk down the steps. “At the moment, I am known as the Prince of Hell,” Demetri raises his eyebrows at you. “I don’t plan on staying a mere prince. I want the whole kingdom, I want to be king.” You state stopping in front of him. “Consuming the souls of vampires might just give the power I need to overthrow the current monarch.”

“And?” Demetri asks. You smirk, brushing the tips of your fingers along his jaw.

“Help me, Demetri,” You whisper, loving how his name rolls off the tongue. “Help me find vampires, help me become king, and I will give you everything you desire” You promise, trailing your fingers down his throat and over his chest. “I’ll give you the world and I will give you Hell.” You smirk playfully.

“I know just where to start,”

#vampire #demon #volturi #Demon!reader #Male!reader #Demetri x reader #Demetri Volturi x reader #Demetri Volturi x Male!reader #Demetri Volturi #Demetri x male!reader #male reader #cullens #Esme Cullen #breaking dawn part 2 #soulamte #Prince of Hell

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nctsworld · 4 years

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pedal to the metal

✩ jaemin x reader | mall au | arcade attendant!jaemin | fluff | 3.3k

SUMMARY ⇾ when the claw machine eats your money, jaemin, the cute arcade attendant, offers to play a game with you in lieu of a refund. little does he expect you to beat him. | based off of @mistymark’s nct mall employees post WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, bit of angst, jaemin is competitive, kissing in the epilogue RATING ⇾ teen+

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

Leaning over the glass counter filled with endless prizes, Jaemin holds out two large plushies, one in each of his hands.

“Pikachu or Spongebob?” He swivels his head to them individually before beaming down at the little girl in front of him.

With the alternating supervision of her parents, she’s been one of the recent regulars at the arcade and finally saved up enough tickets fo a decent prize, deciding to cash them in today. Her face lights up and targets in on one particular plushie, already inching towards it with open hands.

“Pikachu, Pikachu!” she squeals.

The worker’s smile deepens, “Great choice. Couldn’t have picked better myself.”

He laughs airily as she squeezes Pikachu like it’s the last thing she’ll ever love, bouncing up and down with joy. Today, the girl’s mom is with her and she holds her ecstatic daughter close to her leg, rubbing her arm warmly.

“So I guess I’ll see you two next week?” Jaemin asks.

“If she gets over Pikachu as fast as she did with Olaf, then probably yes,” the mom replies with a defeated head shake. “Thanks again, Jaemin. Say bye to the nice boy.”

“Bye, Jaemin!”

The mother and daughter wave good-bye with wide smiles, as did Jaemin. Giving prizes out and seeing the delightful reactions on the recipient’s face was one of the best parts of his job.

Oh, and so was being able to play all the arcade games for free.

For Jaemin, being the arcade attendant at the local mall was a dream come true. He was once in the same place as the little girl—always coming to the same arcade every day after school. Although he loved winning prizes (who doesn’t?), he also prided himself in being the best at every game, knowing all the secrets and strategies like the back of his hand. Dance Dance Revolution, Street Fighter, Beatmania, Time Crisis, Super Bike, Pac-Man… You name it, and Jaemin can wipe the floor with anybody. It’s why none of his friends liked to play the games with him, but they still had fun nonetheless.

“That girl is insane!” Chenle exclaims with a point of his thumb, strolling up to the counter. He’s one of Jaemin’s many friends and an everyday mall-goer. Jisung comes up next to him, also a friend and works at the mall’s McDonald’s. The mall was really a second home to them all.

Jisung bobs his head in disbelief. Then, he turns to face their worker friend.

“You’ve gotta admit she’s really good, right?”

The lanky figure cocks an eyebrow. “What are you guys talking about? I was busy giving out a prize to someone.”

The shortest individual of the three widens his eyes. “There was a girl who was just playing Super Bike. She kept kicking everyone’s ass, even us.”

Jisung nods fervently, “I was telling Chenle that she’s probably as good as you, maybe even better.”

Jaemin scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “No one can beat me at Super Bike, you both know that.”

“You haven’t seen her play, though…” Chenle sighs dreamily, perching his chin into his palms, as he drifts off into space and replays the gameplay in his mind.

“I don’t know, Jaemin,” Jisung shrugs. He absentmindedly fiddles with the bundle of tickets left by the little girl. “It’s about time someone beat you at one of the games.”

Suddenly, Jaemin snatches the tickets from his hands, startling the younger boy. Said younger boy glances up to meet a pair of slitted, burning eyes. In an instant, Jaemin’s eyes melt and a cocky expression flashes by.

“Like I always say, I never lose.”

He begins to count the tickets, but the thought of someone being better than him makes him lose track.

After he finishes counting the tickets, he casually checks-up on the motorcycle racing simulator to see what all the fuss was about. To his disappointment, he is met with a young boy, playing by himself.

Jaemin makes a mental note to keep an eye and ear out for this mystery Super Bike girl.

A few days pass. You’re at the mall by yourself to kill some time and to procrastinate on studying. You spent a while at the bookstore already, so you decide to do something a little more fun.

At the bustling arcade, you’re quickly drawn towards the claw machine with the mountain of plushies. You know the odds of winning are low, but one round couldn’t hurt. Placing your money into the claw machine, you begin to fiddle with the joystick. However, nothing’s moving.

Your face crinkles in confusion, so you add money again, thinking that maybe it was a one-time fluke. Nope, definitely not a fluke because the claw still doesn’t work. You’re now two dollars down and you didn’t even get the chance to play.

Walking around the arcade, you try to find a worker, but to no avail. You stand in front of the glass counter, waiting for an attendant. While waiting, you’re peering at all the variety of prizes to be won and wish you were skilled and patient enough to obtain such things. It’s no wonder why the claw machine drew you in, at least that game filled you with a false sense of a fast and easy win.

After finishing a supervising round in the arcade, Jaemin notices a girl at the front counter. Actually, scratch that, a stunning girl—one that he hasn’t seen in the arcade before. He’d definitely remember you if you had. The ends of his mouth stretch and he strides towards you with a wind of confidence.

“Hi, do you need help with something?”

Jolting slightly, you’re taken aback by both the handsome figure and the question. You saw him earlier at one of the games, but it never crossed your mind that such a young, attractive guy like that would be the resident arcade attendant. You subconsciously do a double take, eyeing him up and down, causing Jaemin’s grin to become more cheeky.

“Hi, yeah,” You point to where you were previously. “I was trying the claw machine and it took my money, but it didn’t let me play any rounds.”

“Oh?” He scrunches his face and heads toward the machine. You follow behind. “We just fixed it a few weeks ago, that’s weird.”

At the claw machine, Jaemin feels around the machine, checking on the knobs and buttons, and even places a coin into it to test out your claim. He tinkers with the joystick, and realizes you’re right; the machine’s only taking money without allowing any plays.

So he kicks it. Hard.

You break out into a chortle. “Does that actually help?”

“Always works like a charm.”

Another kick, and more chortling.

Jaemin shifts his head towards you and places a hand on his chest. His eyes waver, searching around him as if someone would be listening, and lowers his voice in a hush.

“I’m a secret machine whisperer, you gotta trust me,” he says with a small wink, and you trust him by standing back and resuming to observe him with a fluttering heart.

The attendant tries the machine with money once more, but the kicking evidently didn’t help. This only leads Jaemin to increase the intervals of his kicking. Soon, kicking evolves into desperately shaking the contraption.

Bemused and shaking your head, you comment, “I don’t think your whispering is working very well.”

He attempts one last time, but to nobody’s surprise, it fails. He tapes an out of order sign onto the glass. With hands on his hips, he exhales a lengthy sigh.

“Sorry for your lost money. I can give you a refund.”

“Aw, no. It’s okay, it was only a couple of bucks. I was more so looking forward to playing the game, really.”

A lightbulb goes off in Jaemin’s head.

“Did you wanna play a game with me to make up for it instead?”

Although he enunciates the question slowly, cautious of your reply and potential rejection, there’s a contrasting smug expression on his face. Your teeth tug at your bottom lip, about to answer, but then you pout.

“Aren’t you working right now though?”

Jaemin shrugs nonchalantly, “It’s kind of slow at the moment and I can argue that I’m maintaining the game.”

“Like what you were just doing with the claw machine?”

“Exactly.”

Both of you laugh in unison, gazes converging together. If only the strong sparks flying between you two could somehow fix the claw machine... but then again, you would’ve never had a reason to speak to the beautiful boy in the first place.

“Sure, what game did you have in mind?”

Tapping a finger on his chin, Jaemin runs the possibilities in his head. What’s a game that he can easily impress you with his skills, but is also equally fun for you to play?

“Super Bike?” he offers.

You nod with a small smile, “Okay, lead the way.”

Thankfully, as the two of you arrive at the game, no one’s currently playing. You jump onto the left motorcycle, while Jaemin gets onto the right. He enjoys how you cutely sway back and forth, accustoming yourself to the fake motorbike. He gives you a quick breakdown of the controls, and tells you to focus only on the gas and brake since he’ll choose automatic transmission to make things easier for you. You hum with puffed cheeks, ready to play.

Following Jaemin’s choices of the easiest map level and transmission settings, the race immediately starts.

Jaemin can play Super Bike in his sleep, so he starts off the first half of the lap with his eyes on his screen, then for the second half, he looks over at you for a few moments. You’re glued to your screen. The glint in your eyes sparkles with pure amusement and an edge of competitiveness. He breathes in the enticing sight, especially as you bite your lip with heightened focus.

But then, flashes of red flare upon your face. Jaemin’s heart knocks nervously at his chest because the flashes are coming from the sign above your screen with the words ”RACE LEADER”. He’s dragged straight into the match again, not wanting to lose.

“Have you played this before?” he shouts over the background noises and music.

“Only a few times,” you shrug lightly. Your eyebrows raise as Jaemin catches up, trailing almost nose to nose with the end of your motorcycle, yet the finish line is approaching fast. Narrowing your eyes, you accelerate and curve around the last bit of the map without struggle. Before you know it, you reach the finish line right before Jaemin does.

As the first place win radiates from your screen, you pump your arms in the air and remove yourself from the bike.

On the other hand, Jaemin’s gaze is stuck on the screen, jaw hanging. The big two taunts him with every flicker.

“Well, that was fun. Thanks for the game—”

You’re about to ask for his name, but his odd reaction catches you off-guard. You take a step closer to him until someone cries out:

“That’s Super Bike girl!”

Swinging your head towards the origin of the cry, you see a boy jog over with a wave of his index finger. Chenle’s voice breaks the arcade attendant out of his frozen state. Jaemin whips his head towards you, still on the motorbike.

“You’re Super Bike girl?!” he echoes, eyebrows knitted.

“I already have a nickname around here?” you giggle. “I only played this game once a few days ago.”

Chenle asks him, “Did Biker Girl beat you?”

Jaemin avoids the inquiry, darting his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly. The friend passes the question onto you with owl eyes, and you shyly nod.

“Oh, my God, and I missed it?!” He huffs in disappointment, but then recollects himself as he takes a few steps toward you.

“Are you free after seven to come back and play again? Our friends need to witness this. This is history in the making.”

Immediately, Jaemin shoots daggers into Chenle. The daggers definitely have profanities written all over. You catch a glimpse of Jaemin and can practically read every word.

“Uhm,” you lower your voice, despite the fact Jaemin can still hear you. “Your friend looks pretty pissed. I feel kinda bad to just come back to beat him in front of people.”

“Oh, don’t worry about feeling bad,” the attendant’s friend waves his hand carelessly. “He always makes us feel bad when he constantly brags about how he’s the best at every game in here.”

“Is that so?” You glance at the boy on the bike with a new perspective. You could definitely see this guy as cocky, but maybe he’s still sweet underneath the exterior. You also wouldn’t mind seeing him once more before you head home, and now you had a reason.

“Well, count me in. I’ll be back at seven on the dot.”

With a flutter of your fingers, you say your temporary good-byes to the pair of boys and head out of the arcade. Jaemin finally props himself off the motorbike, getting back to work.

Passing by Chenle, he half-jokingly seethes, “I hate you,” into his ear.

Without a care in the world, Chenle frantically messages their group chat to come by the mall later to witness the match of a lifetime.

“Hey, did I miss it?” Mark pants as he puts an arm around Jeno from behind.

“No, you got here right on time. Super Bike girl should be coming any time soon.”

On the backend of the motorbike, Jaemin sits at the edge of it, studying the modest crowd around the racing simulator. Along with Jisung and Chenle, several of Jaemin’s other close friends are here to cheer for his downfall. For those who aren’t there, his friends are equipped with their phones in hand, ready to record the monumental event.

Weaving through the crowd with mumbles of “Excuse me’s,” you reach your destination and appear in front of the arcade worker.

The rising buzz of the crowd fades from your ears and into the background within his presence. You melt at him looking so coolly, bending over the motorbike with folded arms, and give him a warm smile.

“Just because you’ve got a sweet smile, it doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”

You playfully drop your mouth as the people around “Ooooh” in harmony. Your tongue is pressed against your lower teeth as Jaemin spins himself to the front of the bike. You get onto your previous seat from hours ago, grasping onto the fake vehicle as if you owned it.

You watch Jaemin enter the settings in. He’s not underestimating you this time and he executes his promise of not going easy on you—the hardest map and manual transmission are chosen, signaling you to really bring your A-game for this round.

At first, the match is tight. You’re practically side by side on the map, even having the occasional opportunity to push him off track and vice-versa. Changing up techniques, as the second lap rings in, you switch transmission gears and ease on the brake for a brief moment, hugging the curve of the map.

With that move, the red light flashes above him. Jaemin believes, no, he knows he’s going to win. Sweet victory is on the tip of his tongue, he can taste it. Ten seconds are left on the clock, ten seconds left until he beats you and continues to reign king of the game.

But, you suddenly speed past him and the game’s over before he can properly process it.

The screams surrounding you engulf the entirety of the arcade.

Jaemin’s mouth is on the floor as he realizes he lost.

No, his mouth is six feet under because you’re currently entering a nickname into the all-time best rankings. You beat Jaemin’s time on the map, seizing the new first place rank for the game.

Everyone circles you in congratulations, but your eyes are honed in on one individual in the crowd. He hops off the bike, brushes past the crowd, and escapes to the counter, continuing his shift like nothing happened. Hastily, you go after him and find him crouching down behind the glass. He’s unpacking boxes filled with what you assume are prizes.

On your forearms, you lean over the glass counter. “Hey, when does your shift end?”

Your assumption is answered as you see him restock some of the plushies in the transparent container underneath you.

“Why do you want to know? So you can beat me again at another game?” he grumbles, the bitterness blatant in his voice. Nevertheless, you persist.

“‘Cause Super Bike girl wants to get to know the cute Arcade Boy she met today over dinner.”

He pauses and his eyebrows perk up at the words cute and dinner in the same sentence. His ego is still sore, but he’ll bite.

“Is it a date?” he presses further with a disinterested tone, continuing to move the items.

You drag your bottom lip up, drumming your fingers slowly against the glass.

“Only if you want it to be.”

Your words bandage his sore ego quickly, but he wants to bathe in his pity a little while longer. He twists his mouth, fighting against the urge to show you his teeth.

The boy stands up and leans over the counter too. He’s greeted by your strong aura, yet it doesn’t completely reach your eyes; your gaze is soft and gentle. “I get off at nine, so it’s pretty late.”

“That’s okay. I can play games until then—”

You peel yourself off from the glass and properly introduce yourself, holding your hand out. He glances at it for a second, then at your tender look. He gives in and can't help himself from grinning. The arcade attendant reaches for your hand and reciprocates the shake.

“I’m Jaemin.”

That day, Jaemin learned that losing at the arcade games wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

EPILOGUE

Clutching onto Jaemin’s waist underneath his leather jacket with your chin resting on his shoulder, you’re swaying side by side with him on the racing game that brought you two together. It’s his day off today, and both of you thought it’d be cute to spend some time at the arcade before the movie showing later that evening.

“Ease on the gas!” you dictate. He rolls his eyes at your backseat driving.

“No, it’s too early!” he protests and goes against your advice, accelerating further. When that makes him go off-road a bit, you sigh smugly while he groans meekly.

“See, and this is why I’m better at Super Bike than you,” you tease before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Tingles rise to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but I’ve played this game a lot longer than you.” It’s the second lap and he’s inching towards the finish line.

“Yeah, but who holds the record?”

After he speeds through it, the list of the best times roll onto the screen. Your nickname still stands proudly at number one from the day you asked him out on a date.

Jaemin smiles at the not-so far memory. He then twists and extends his neck over his shoulder, sharing a sweet kiss with you. Your grip around his waist tightens, your fingers sinking into his skin. His palm raises and cups your face, deepening the kiss.

Breaking away for a moment, he says, “Yeah, well, I’m the better kisser.”

You sweep your nose against his. “That’s up for debate…”

Your lips meet once more lovingly.

“Can you guys stop making out in the arcade again?” Jisung groans. “Kids are here, you know. Like me.”

Chenle cuts in, “I thought you were glad someone beat Jaemin for once.”

“I mean, yeah, but I didn’t expect the same person to have her tongue constantly down his throat!”

Still lip-locked, Jaemin and you smile into the next kisses from their remarks while Jisung and Chenle run off to play another game, far away from the new couple.

#jaemin #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #flash tw

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thisissirius · 3 years

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Buddie + 90

forget it.

for you, nova, anything :)

when i knew myself [ao3] eddie/buck

"Forget it," Eddie says.

------

Forget it, like it doesn't mean anything.

Forget it, like his feelings don't matter.

Forget it, as if Buck can.

------

"Eddie loves me," Buck says, before Maddie's even opened the door the whole way. He runs a hand through his hair, whirls around to face her. "He literally said I love you and then forget it!"

"Okay," Maddie says carefully. She doesn't look surprised and Buck wants to scream at her; why isn't she surprised? Has Eddie told her? Does everyone know? "Everyone does not know," Maddie continues, and oh shit, okay, apparently Buck's talking his thoughts aloud. "I didn't know."

Buck stalls, looks around the room. There's no sign of Jee and he swallows. "Sorry, I should have called. Are you okay? Is Jee-Yun?"

Maddie nods, taking his hand. "I'm... getting there." She smiles softly. "Jee's out with Chim. They went for a drive."

"Okay," Buck says, letting Maddie lead him to the couch. "God, Maddie, Eddie loves me."

"So you said." Maddie tugs at a pillow, resting it in her lap. "What actually did he say?"

Buck rubs at his face, tipping his head against the back of the couch. "Exactly what i said. We were in his kitchen, I was cooking and he just said, I love you and then forget it when I didn't reply." When Maddie doesn't say anything for a while, he looks up. "Should I have said something?"

Again, silence. Eventually, Maddie gives him a soft smile. "Do you wish you'd said something?"

"I never even thought," Buck starts, except that's a lie. He has thought about it, more than once. It's always just been a touch out of reach because of time, Shannon, Taylor, Ana. The truck, the tsunami, the sniper. There's always been something in the way and the only time Buck's almost said something, Eddie had just handed him the greatest gift in a hospital room. "He made me legal guardian."

Maddie starts, raising her eyebrows. "What?"

"Of Chris," Buck explains, picking at his jeans. "If anything happens to him, I get guardianship of Chris."

The expression on Maddie's face is equal parts shock and confusion. "He has family, right? Shannon's and Eddie's?"

Buck snorts. "That's what I said. He just said nobody will fight for my son harder than you and just, said it would be me."

"Wow," Maddie says quietly. Buck wonders if she's thinking of Jee-Yun. "That's quite the thing."

"I know." Buck's voice is pitched just as low. "I would never say no. I'm scared I'll mess it up."

Maddie shakes her head, reaches over to squeeze his knee. "You shouldn't be. Eddie would never have done this if he thought the same."

It's something Buck's tried to tell himself over and over. Like most things that run through his head, he's never sure, even when someone tells him, whether he can trust himself.

Except when Eddie says, that's not on you or no, I know you did or you act like you're expendable, but you're wrong.

Somehow, something about the weight of Eddie's words, the way he says them, means something. Maybe it's because Eddie doesn't say anything unless there's a meaning to it, a point in it being said. Even when he's mad, or afraid, or angry, everything he says makes Buck want to listen.

"How do you feel about him?" Maddie asks eventually.

"I'm dating Taylor," Buck says helplessly.

"Not the question I asked." Maddie sits back, looking thoughtful. "But if you weren't?"

There's not even a question. "I don't want to ruin anything."

"That's why you won't," Maddie points out. "You and Eddie are starting from a foundation of friendship, Buck. I don't know how true this is," she continues, meeting his eyes, "but I think you and Eddie found each other at the right time."

Buck wonders.

Buck coming off of Abby's absence, Eddie chasing Shannon. Losing Shannon, losing Abby. Chris bringing them together in ways Buck could never have imagined.

"Even when we weren't speaking," Buck says, heart heavy, "I just wanted him around. I wanted to talk to him and ask him and I couldn't."

Maddie nods, even though she doesn't know everything. Doesn't know that standing in a supermarket, Eddie mad at him and throwing Chris into the turmoil already running around Buck's head wrecked him.

"I love him," he says, trying the words out loud.

"Yes," Maddie says.

"I'm in love with him," he says, closing his eyes. "Fuck, I love him."

------

It takes a long time for Eddie to open the door.

Please, Buck texts him. You haven't ruined anything.

Eventually, the door unlocks. It doesn't open, but Buck does that instead, watches Eddie's back as he turns into the kitchen.

"You just ran," Buck says, untying his shoes. He doesn't expect Eddie to answer, and isn't surprised when silence greets him. Shoving his shoes by the door, he takes his time down the hall, working out what he's going to say. Eddie's standing at the table, staring at Chris' homework still spread out across it, fingers sliding against the papers. "Eddie. Please look at me."

There's a tightness to Eddie's jaw, but he does. "What?"

"You told me to forget it," Buck says, desperately. "Why?"

Eddie shrugs, eyes darting down to the homework and then back up. "Just say whatever you need to and leave. Please."

"Alright," Buck says, because he knows Eddie, knows that he won't be going anywhere. "I'm dating Taylor."

"Yes thank you," Eddie snaps.

"But," Buck presses on, leaning against the table. "I had to come here before I break up with her."

The anger stutters and dies. Eddie looks confused, eyes bright, his lips parted. "What?"

"I went to see Maddie," Buck explains. "I don't even know why. When you told me, I didn't know what to think. I've been trying not to, ever since you told me about your will."

Eddie looks confused. "You don't have to—"

"Of course I do," Buck says. He moves around the table, closer to Eddie. "I might not have known what you were doing," he continues, reaching for Eddie. Eddie freezes, but he doesn't stop Buck taking his hand, tugging him forward, "but I do now."

"What was I doing?" Eddie asks. Buck knows him well enough to hear the tremor in his voice that he's trying to hide, the hope he's trying not to feel.

Buck stares at him, the vulnerabilty that Eddie rarely lets himself show, and rests his free hand on Eddie's hip. "Telling me you love me long before you said the words."

"I," Eddie starts. Doesn't seem to know how to finish.

"I love you," Buck says, every ounce of honesty he posseses weighing down the words.

There's no don't do this, no Buck, don't. There's just a quiet acceptance in the way Eddie stares back at him, the breath he lets out. A weight lifted, the shadows leaving his face.

"Taylor," Eddie says.

"Taylor," Buck agrees. "But after, I'm coming back here."

Eddie nods, touches a hand to Buck's face, touches their foreheads together. "Come home."

"I will," Buck promises.

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 spoilers #my supernova

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spockandawe · 3 years

Text

Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting.

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned.

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

#jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #disk horse #long post/#abuse/#only tangentially #but better safe than sorry i hope

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