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#she's just giving me brick vibes but do I really want to name this elegant dragon brick.  do I really.
mewrising · 3 years
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OOOH NEW PROJECT ALERT
she funky
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btsficsforthehumble · 3 years
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adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different
2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed
pairing: reader x ot7
genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7
Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.
Part Two
Warnings: none in this chapter
Word count: 2.2k
After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you open your eyes to see other students begin to filter into the large auditorium. The little wooden desks that flip out from below the seats force people to squeeze past each other and give awkward sorries. Coming from calc, you thankfully don’t have to do the awkward shuffle as you came straight from a nearby building. While watching the students trickle in, you notice that many hold coffee in their hands and you suddenly are incredibly jealous… that guy from your last class wasn’t wrong in his assumption of your night owl status.
You sigh, and pull out your laptop to pull up the syllabus for the class. You were slightly nervous for this class, as it was completely out of your comfort zone. You hadn’t yet settled on a major, so you were knocking out some general classes while you were a freshman. And now, you were sitting in an Intro to Composition class to fulfill your creative work requirement. You really didn’t have experience with music in any formal sense, but you always loved to listen to music as you did basically anything. You found that music helped make the more unpleasurable bits of life more bearable. And the good bits, well, they always seem to have a good beat behind them too.
While you begin to look at some of the upcoming projects and their due dates, you feel the seat below you shift as someone occupies the seat next to you. When you glance up, you first see that since you pulled your laptop out, the lecture hall had quickly filled up. Your eyes dart over to your new seat buddy, and you can’t help but feel your eyes widen a bit. It was a boy with a slight build, but definitely a powerful aura. From your view, the sharpness of his jawline coupled with his soft looking cheeks was enough to inspire Michelangelo himself, you thought. While he was bent over slightly pulling out his desk, you shifted your eyes to look at his. He had soft eyes, and you could just barely tell he added a bit of a peach shadow and mascara to his look. Framing his face was inky black hair that was gelled to perfectly hang just to the edges of his dark brows.
Not wanting to get caught staring, you drag your eyes away from him and back to your laptop. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and willed it to recede --- you’ve had enough of embarrassing yourself today, you thought. Why oh why God, did you send freaking male models to your university, and not only that, but make them attend the same classes as you!
You quickly snap out of your thoughts as you hear a voice come from close to your right side. Eyes going from your laptop to the speaker, you realize it’s the boy next to you that spoke.
“Hey, just so you know I think your bag is caught on the chair, and looks like it’ll spill…”
His voice is more light and melodic than you anticipated from his angular features, but you don’t really fully process the thought before you realize that yes, your bag is precariously hanging from the edge of the chair between you, and it looks like your notebook and pens are about to end up scattered across the lecture hall. You gasp and grab your bag before it dumps, and lift the strap to untangle it.
“Oh my God, thank you so much, I’m sorry!” Your words rush out of your mouth as you zip the bag to prevent further disaster. How embarrassing, you groan to yourself internally.
He lets out a tinkling giggle, “No worries, happens to the best of us.” Said with a smile, he makes you feel better about the awkward situation almost immediately.
You smile back at him, “I suppose that’s true”. His grin widens a bit at your reply, and you notice his eyes squinch up to the point where they seem to disappear a bit, which you have to admit is incredibly endearing.
“My name’s Jimin!”
“Y/n. Nice to meet you!” Your smile gets larger at his introduction, it’s nice to be making a friend in a class that you already feel out of your depth in, and not to mention one that is as kind and not at all bad to look at.
“You too! So, what year are you? I’m a second year.” His smile never left his face.
“Oh, I’m only a first year actually!” You hated having to tell people you were a new student, honestly, but you kept your smile hoping he wouldn’t tease you too hard for it.
“Aw, you’re just a baby! Don’t worry, sunbae will take care of you!” His smile definitely had a cheshire quality to it now.
“Is that a promise sunbaenim?” You smirked back at him. While your words were formal, you were quick to pick up his flirty nature and turn it around on him. You saw his eyebrow lift in amusement at the subtle double entendre, and just as he was about to respond, a much louder voice cut him off from the front of the hall.
“Good morning everyone. Welcome to Intro to Composition. I am your professor, Doctor Choi. To my side here is this class’s learning assistant, Yoongi.” At this he swings his arm around to gesture to a boy giving a flat smile and nodding his head in greeting, his hands in his front pockets in a kind of forced relaxed stance.
“He is a fourth year student and is here to answer any questions you may have about the class material, as this is a rather large class.” The professor continues on, but you only give it partial attention, half because of already reading the syllabus, and half because you were getting a good look at the LA he introduced.
Yoongi was standing towards the wall of the auditorium, seemingly not wanting to be the center of attention. He wouldn’t have pulled your attention so much if it wasn’t for his gorgeous feline-like features that gave him an elegance, despite his slightly awkward demeanor. The glasses perched on his nose and the dark bangs swooped gently over his forehead gave beautiful contrast to his pale skin and pink lips. The silver hoops in his ears that reflected the overhead fluorescents gave him more of an edgy vibe, and it seemed to suit him well.
As it seems, Jimin thought so too. You turned to glance at your new friend to see him eyeing the LA you yourself was just examining. You watched him pull in one of his plush lips to pull it lightly with his top teeth. The quick action made you lift your brow in amusement. The introverted LA appeared to have a fan club in you and Jimin. After a quick glance around the room, you saw most of everyone beginning to type notes or watch your professor with way more attention than you or Jimin were giving him.
At this, you quickly refocused on the lecturer. Lord knows you need to pay attention to do well in this class with the zero experience you had with the material.
----
75 minutes later, the distinct sound of students shuffling as they put away their things and exit the room rings out. You and Jimin follow suit.
“What do you think of the first project that he introduced today? I’m a little nervous to be honest.” You look up from your bent over position to see Jimin’s eyebrows slightly furrowed as he expresses his concern.
“Yeah, me too. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with this stuff so it’ll definitely be a learning process.” Slipping into a conversation about the class was completely natural to you two. It seemed you two clicked as friends right off the bat.
“Tell me about it. I’m a freaking dance major, not a music major!” He let out a grown and tipped his head back as you both walked together out of the lecture hall.
“My advisor recommended this course to me because she said that some dance majors find it useful to learn about music construction, because it can help them be better at moving to the music. And because I tend to focus on contemporary, it makes sense. I’m just worried about not doing well in the class itself.” As he spoke, his face slipped into a cute pout.
His pout made you giggle, which you tried holding back behind your hand but he heard you before you were able to.
“What is so funny? Is my life struggle really that comedic to you hoobae?” He couldn’t hide the smile on his face, knowing how dramatic he was being. The slight giggle in his tone gave him away too.
“Of course not, I would never belittle your struggles, sunbae. You must have it so hard. Dancing requires an immense amount of brainpower, I don’t know how you are able to walk around with how big your brain is!” You widen your eyes for dramatic flair as you fight your lips from quirking up.
He stops dead in his tracts, and turns to you with his eyes nearly bulging out of his head at your sarcastic reply.
“Ya! Kids these days show no respect for their elders!” He bumps his hip into yours after catching up to you, “I’ll have you know I was class president for nine years in school! And valedictorian! And this is how I get treated!”
You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat and turn to him. “Were you really, sunbae? That’s amazing!” His easy-going attitude definitely didn’t leave you with the impression that he was that dedicated to his studies.
Now slightly sheepish, he shrugs. “Yeah, it’s true. I was a model student back then.”
Looking forward, he gives a bit of a bitter smile to himself. “You are wondering why I became a dance major, I imagine.”
Sensing the slight sensitivity to the topic, you shake your head as you answer, “Well, who am I to judge who does what major when I can’t even decide on one for myself?” You give him a shy smile.
By this point, you were both strolling down the brick path connecting the buildings of campus together, the bite of winter still remaining in the wind that blows your hair off your face on the otherwise sunny day.
He turns to look at you, with a slightly more evaluative gaze. You only hold eye contact for a second before moving your eyes forward again, trying to avoid blushing under his attention.
“You have time. Don’t force yourself into a path that others make for you.” His face was contemplative, and it seemed like he might have been speaking from personal experience.
“That’s good advice sunbae. Maybe your brain really is super big.” Your attempt to make him smile again works, and he lightly pushes your shoulder.
“Brat!” You can’t help but to let out a loud giggle, to which he lets out his own.
Seeing the street you needed to turn on for your next task of the day, you go to say goodbye to Jimin. “Well, this brat has to go buy groceries, so she’ll see you later.” You go to turn away, but before you can, he grabs your hand.
“You’re just going to leave your new friend without giving him a way to contact you? What if he has some pressing composition questions, huh? What is he to do then?” The teasing tone makes you smile.
“Well, if I remember correctly the LA you were checking out earlier is at your disposal sunbae.” He sputters for a couple seconds, pink coming to his cheeks making your smile widen, taking pleasure in catching him off guard.
“Okay, but you can’t tell me he isn’t yummy y/n!”
At this, you let out a cackle and bend over from the force of your laugh. You didn’t expect his answer, but you did have to agree with him. That LA, Yoongi his name is you think, definitely is yummy. He is gorgeous in an understated way.
After you finish laughing, you relent. “Okay, I’ll give you that. I’ll spare you the embarrassment of asking the yummy LA your dumb questions. Hand me your phone”.
He pulls his phone out of his canvas tote, holding his laptop and what looks like a textbook. You quickly type in your contact information, and hand it back to him.
“I appreciate your pity on my poor soul, y/n.”
“It’s more pity on Yoongi’s soul, actually.” You have to raise your voice as you are already walking away as you reply, your head turned over your shoulder. Your smile is met with a shake of his head and a tongue sticking out in your direction.
You laugh as you continue on towards the grocery store, happy that you were able to make such a good friend on just the first day of classes. Who knows what the rest of the semester has in store for you, if this is just day one, you think to yourself. Only time will tell.
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ladyreapermc · 4 years
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Fic: Eyes Wide Shut (Henry x Reader)
Summary: AU. Working with an investigative journalist like Henry when you had a huge crush on him didn’t leave you with much free time for a social life. That is until you decide to visit a sex club and meet a masked handsome stranger who are more than willing to show you a good time.
Part 2: Undisclosed Desires | Part 3: Beautiful Problems
Author’s notes: I have no idea where this plot bunny came from, but I loved it and it turned into this huge one shot. I was vibing Eyes Wide Shut for the club (no idea why since I hate that movie) and it kinda worked for what I wanted.
Wordcount: 5666
Warnings: smut (powerplay; bondage; praise kink; orgasm denial).
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What are you doing here?
A little voice inside your head asked as watched yourself in the impeccably clean surface of the club’s restroom mirror, your eyes looking wide and afraid, like a dear caught in headlights.
This isn’t you.
The voice continued and you had to take a pause and consider. This whole thing really wasn’t you. The elegant makeup with smoky eyes and dark red lipstick that you only ever wore for formal events; the slip dress that looked more like a camisole than an actual dress, but made you look so alluring in a way that you just weren’t used to.
You felt almost transported to another dimension or maybe having an out of body experience. It was the only thing that could make sense of what you were doing in a sex club when you were the very definition of vanilla. As a matter of fact, you were pretty sure if someone looked up the word in a dictionary, they would find a picture of you.
It just wasn’t your thing. Or at least that was what you always thought. You could never even understand why a person would want to get tied up and spanked during sex. It sounded so uncomfortable and crazy. You were perfectly fine with the traditional things, thank you very much.
You were absolutely sure this wasn’t for you. The only time you let your ex-boyfriend tried anything like it, you two used a blindfold and you ended up panicking and kicking in the balls, which killed mood obviously.
Yet, here you were. Curiosity got the better out of you when your best friend gifted you an invite for your twenty-third birthday. She said it had been a revealing experience for her and that you should try it, especially since she was probably the only person you’ve ever confided about your terrible and inappropriate crush on your boss Henry.
It started when you met the man six months ago when you started working as his personal assistant. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be even if sometimes you felt more like a glorified secretary than an actual journalist, but you were learning the ropes with one youngest Pulitzer winners investigative journalists out there so it was worth it.
Besides, Henry was such a great guy that you almost didn’t mind picking up his coffee every morning, because he actually took the time to teach and give you tips. He even let you co-write a couple of less important pieces for the magazine. The only thing he didn’t allow you to do was to come with him when meeting sources. He always said you had to cultivate your own.
That was actually one of the reasons you were here. Not that you thought you would be cultivating many sources in a sex clubs, but because Henry just took off tonight after receiving a text when you two were supposed to be working on his last big story.
He didn’t give you any explanation or justification. Just picked up his things, sending you a quick goodbye over his shoulder before he took off, leaving you alone in the office on a Friday night.  
It was at that moment that you realized how pathetic you were being, pining over your boss who didn’t even notice you and having absolutely no personal life. So, you went home, got dressed and now here you were, inside the club, but hiding in the restroom, not exactly regretting your choice but without knowing how to go forward with it either.
The place was nothing like you expected. You were thinking chains and whips and a whole lot of leather. Instead, it was posh and elegant, everyone dressed in fashionable outfits and wearing masks.
Yours was lying on the sink, looking quite inconspicuous just like the blue bracelet sitting next to it. Ant that was the real reason for your little meltdown. You had already been on edge all the way to the club, but walking in and being asked by the hostess if you were a dom, sub or a switch, made you cheeks scarlet, locked the breath in your throat, and nothing but confusing words spluttered from your mouth.
She had been very kind and understanding, saying it was perfectly fine not knowing and offered you a blue bracelet so you could give it a try being a sub first to see how you would feel. You took it because you had no idea what else to do before scurrying to the restroom where you had been hiding for the last fifteen minutes, trying to work up the courage to actually step into the club and talk to people and see what would happen.
Wasn’t that what Henry always said? Make friends wherever you go; pay attention to everything. You never know when you’re gonna need that tiny bit of information that person let it slip after a drink too much.
Taking yet another deep, calming breath, you brushed off inexistent lint from your dress, adjusting them hem once more, before putting the mask back on and stepping outside. You were going to do this. You came all the way here, might as well have a drink and take a look.
You stepped through the thick, velvet curtains that separated the small reception from the actual club, immediately having your senses overwhelmed by different stimuli. The first thing that you noticed was the soft scent of incense that enveloped the place. It was something slightly familiar, but you couldn’t quite make out its name. Next was the music. You don’t know why you were expecting some kind of heavy metal to be playing but instead, soft jazz worked a background noise.
Then your eyes adjusted to the change of lighting since the main area of the club itself was slightly darker than the reception and you could see people lounging around and tables and couches, talking and laughing, enjoying elegant cocktails, all in masks, all completely ignoring your presence.
For a moment, you stood still, trying to gain your bearings before you finally moved to the bar with slow, hesitant steps, eyes still darting around like part of you expected some old acquaintance to pop up from a corner ready to report your visit to your overly religious grandma. It was ridiculous and you knew, but you couldn’t always help yourself.
Taking a seat on one of the high stools, you ordered a drink and once again turned your focus to the club. If it wasn’t the masks, the place would feel exactly like most high-end nightclubs you had seen, and the thought soothed your nerves a little. What you were expecting? People having sex in front of everyone else? You chuckled at your own silliness, turning back to the bar when the bartender brought over your order.
As you sipped your drink, the stool next to you became occupied by a tall, handsome stranger who ordered a whiskey, before turning his gaze towards you, his bright blue eyes framed by the black mask made your breath catch in your throat and your cheeks to go red as you quickly looked away.
“First time?” his voice was deep and smooth with a hint of an accent that couldn’t quite place because he was obviously working on disguising it.
“That obvious?” you asked with a nervous chuckle, glancing his way. His dark hair was neatly combed, but a couple of stubborn curls made themselves known and for some reason, you felt itchy to smooth them back in place.
“A little,” he replied with a soft smile, taking a sip of his whiskey and as the cuff of his grey blazer pulled back with the motion, you saw the red bracelet on his wrist. “We’re all nervous on your first visit, but this is a great place to… explore.”
All you managed was a small hum of understanding, shifting your attention back to your drink, swirling your straw because you didn’t know what to do or think. Was he just making small talk? Was he hinting something? If this was a regular club you’d know, but here the rules were different.
“You come here often?” you asked and rolled your eyes at yourself, at your awful small talk. “Sorry, that was terrible.”
“It’s fine,” he assured with a gorgeous smile as he leaned against the bar, looking at you. “Only when I have a date,” he said, glancing at his watch, before letting out a sigh. “But after 40 minutes one must recognize when they’ve been stood up.”
“I’m sorry,” you said with a small, sympathetic smile. Even if he was wearing a mask, you could tell he was a handsome man and you couldn’t understand who would stand him up.  
“And how about you? What brings you here?”
“Curiosity. A friend of mine gave me an invite,” you admitted in a low voice as you surveyed the room once more. “It’s not what I was expecting.”
“Not enough chains and whips?” he asked in a teasing tone and strangely enough it didn’t embarrass you. You chuckled in response.  
“Something like that.”
“They keep those in the private suites,” he explained, finishing his drink. “Would you like to see one?” You stared at him with wide eyes at the offer. “Don’t worry. You can just take a look. No need to stay.”
You took a moment to consider his offer. Were you really going into a dark room with a complete stranger? Were you crazy? Still, you were curious to see what it looked like and he didn’t seem dangerous. Even if he was tall and built like a brick wall.
You should be more afraid of this; instead, you were just excited about the prospect. Adrenaline rushed through your veins; your heart beat wildly in your chest. You licked your lips and met his eyes, trying to gauge if he might be a crazy psycho underneath the suave demeanor.
“Alright,” you finally declared, swallowing the rest of your drink in one go, the alcohol burning down your throat.
This is crazy.
That same voice in your head cautioned, but you ignored it. You came all the way here, the least you could do was take a look. And if he turned out to be a creep, you could always scream. There were plenty of security guards standing inconspicuously around the room.
Taking the arm he offered you, you let him guide you through the maze of tables and couches to the back of the club, where another red velvet curtain covered a passageway. He pushed it aside, letting you step in first, before following behind, one large hand on the small of your back as the two of you crossed the corridor full of doors. He led you to one of the last doors on the left, pulling it open for you and letting you step in first.
It looked like a regular hotel room, with a big bed in the center, a small sitting area to the side with black credence where a small bar sat. At the foot of the bed there was a large wooden chest the looked almost ominous and stood out against the rest of the décor. Same with the two large and shiny hooks hanging from the ceiling.
“Kind of anticlimactic, huh?” he commented, attracting your attention and you noticed he stood to the side, letting the door wide open.
“A bit, yes,” you agreed, looking around again. Were you really about to do what you were thinking about doing it? “Aren’t you going to close the door?”
Apparently yes.
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes,” you breathed out, your voice a little shaky as you looked at him.
He watched you as if to make sure you really meant it, before slowly closing the door behind himself and stepping further into the room. He shrugged off his blazer and set it on the couch’s arm, letting you see a little more of him.
He had such broad shoulders that stretched his black dress shirt in just the right way. The first two buttons of the shirt were open, revealing just a bit of his strong chest and dark hair. Even though you were never much interested in hairy guys, the sight of it was very appealing.
Swallowing the lump of nervousness, you moved to the bar and poured a generous amount of whiskey in two crystal tumblers, offering him one before consuming yours in one go, wincing at the way it burned your throat. You weren’t a big fan of hard liquor like this but you needed some liquid courage if you were really going forward with this.
You reached for the bottle again, ready to pour yourself another shot when he laid a heavy, but surprising soothing hand on your wrist, making you pause.
“I’m not doing this if you’re drunk,” he warned, his blue eyes meeting yours.
Gently prying your fingers away from the bottle, he held your hand and led you to the couch, taking a seat on the armchair, leaving a considerable space between the two of you, but his whole body was tilted towards yours and you could feel his gaze, heavy and intense over you.
“So how this works?” you asked, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “How do I call you? I don’t know your name.”
“We don’t usually use names here,” he explained, his lips tilting in a small smile. “How do you want to call me?”
You paused for a second, looking him from head to toe. There was a word on the tip of your tongue. Something you only ever used with Henry, but it seemed fitting for this. For him.
“Boss,” you finally breathed out and his eyes widened slightly as he licked his lips and shifted in his seat. That was how you knew it affected him. That he liked and you had to smile. It was rewarding to see him not so composed for once. “Is that ok?”
“Yes,” he answered, his voice a little huskier than before. “Perfectly fine.” He took a sip of his whiskey before setting the tumbler on the table. “Do you know what you’re interested in trying?”
You had no idea where to begin. You were curious of course, but the thought of actually doing anything was still stunning you.
“How about what you don’t want to try at all?” he asked, probably picking up on your hesitation.
“No pain,” you hurried to say. It was one of the things you were absolutely sure of it. “Or sharp objects.”
“They don’t allow those here,” he assured leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “And I’m not interested in that either. Anything else?”
You thought back on what you knew about this sort of thing, which granted wasn’t much, but it should give you at least a direction on what you wanted and how.
“No spanking,” you declared after another moment and you saw him still, glass to his lips. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” he replied, draining his drink. “But when done right, it can be quite pleasurable.” His statement made you pause in consideration. “A conversation for another time, perhaps?”
“What makes you think there’s gonna be another time?” you challenged, eyebrow arched, and he grinned.
“I just have a feeling.”
The two of you talked for a while longer, discussing your limits, negotiating a few points, setting up safe words and gestures and slowly you began to relax a little more, feel more comfortable with him and with what you were planning to do. Despite being a complete stranger, you felt a certain familiarity with him, which definitely helped with your nerves.
“So, when do we start?” you finally asked.
“Are you sure?” he asked giving a long, piercing look and you just nodded, swallowing hard at the intensity of those blue eyes. “Then come here.”
You stood up feeling your knees wobbly; your heart hammering against your chest. You were really doing this. You must have lost your mind.
He looked you up from head to toe, his gaze hungry as he leaned back on his chair, legs spread and you couldn’t help but glance down at his lap, at the prominent bulge on his pants, wondering what it looked like. What it would feel like.
He offered you a hand, guiding you onto his lap, straddling one his strong thighs and the pressure against your center made you whimper, which you quickly silenced by pressing your lips together, giving him a shy glance.
“Don’t do that,” he asked. Well no. It was a command. His voice turning lower and harder and it set your nerves on fire. “I want to hear you. Every little moan, whine and cry,” he said against your ear and you shuddered, excitement coursing through your veins and heightening your senses.
“Sorry.”
“Try that again,” he said, one finger on your chin, giving you a hard stare and once again you swallowed hard as you lowered your gaze.
“I’m sorry, boss.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, and the words seemed to go straight to your core, making you gasp and shift on his leg, rubbing yourself against him. He smirked. “You liked it when praise you, baby?”
Your voice was once again locked in your throat and you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, just nod and wonder if you have ever been this aroused this quickly before.
“Well, all you have to do is be a good girl and behave for me and you’ll hear a lot of it,” he said, one hand holding your hips still since you’ve been rocking against his thigh without noticing. “But if you disobey me, I’ll have to punish you and neither of us wants that.”
“No, boss.” You shook your head quickly and he smiled once again. You were getting addicted to it. It was gorgeous and made your knees weak. “I’ll behave. I promise.”
“Good. Then stay still,” he ordered, pushing your hair to one side, exposing your neck and shoulder. “And let me hear you.”
His lips brushed against your neck, right below your ear and you shuddered, your hands fisting his shirt as he explored your skin with his mouth, soft, wet kisses all over neck and shoulder. His tongue and teeth teasing you; finding every sensitive spot that made you shudder and moan as heat pooled between your legs.
He held the thin straps of your dress between his fingers, giving you a quick look, seeking permission. You just nodded already missing his mouth as he pushed them down your arms, exposing your bare breasts to his hungry gaze and even hungrier lips. He kissed and nipped and licked every inch of the skin of your breasts before flickering his tongue over your nipple and making you buckle.
“Stay still, baby,” he asked once again, tilting his head to look up at you. “Otherwise I’m gonna have to tie you.”
The prospect shouldn’t be that arousing. As a matter of fact, before you walked in here, you never considered bondage as an option, but here you were aching for it.
“Sorry, boss,” you said, your voice low and desperate and you leaned back, giving him more room to explore.
He noticed, of course, his smirk growing as his mouth returned to you; his lips closing around a nipple, sucking and licking it while he teased the other with his rough thumb. You struggled to keep yourself still as pleasure built inside you, your walls clenching around nothing, your clit throbbing, begging to be touched in anyway.
“Oh fuck!” you whined, one hand coming to his hair, taking a handful of his curls and he let out a grunt that sounded almost like a warning. “Please, boss. I need…”
“What, darling?” he looked up again, pressing one final kiss to your left breast before his lips moved to the right one. “What do you need?”
Embarrassment made the words die in your lips. You had never begged for it before. Actually, most of the time you had to ask guys to slow down and there he was, taking his sweet time and driving you crazy in the process.
“Can’t say it?” he asked with a smirk. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be doing it.”
He returned to his task, driving you crazy with his mouth; his fingers drawing lazy patterns on the inside of your thighs, touch featherlight and just increasing the temptation because all you wanted was for his fingers to move higher, touch you where you needed him the most.
As he bunched your skirt around your waist, exposing your white lace lingerie, you thought you’d finally have him. Finally, get some sweet release. Especially with the way, his digits ran over the edge of your panties, so, so close, but they moved away again, and he chuckled at the little whine you let out.
All your senses seemed to be in haywire from pleasure; your head was foggy and dazed; expectation made you follow every single one of his movements, desperate to feel him; to know which pleasure spot he would shower with attention this time around.
Goosebumps raised on your skin and you could feel perspiration starting to form as your body’s temperature rose along with your arousal. It made your mask stick to your forehead almost uncomfortably and you wanted to rip it off your face.
He pulled back once more making you whimpered at the loss of his lips and he chuckled once again, giving you a look.
“You know what you have to do,” he said nudging you to stand up and pulling the dress from your body, throwing to the side before his eyes shifted back to you, devouring your body. “Come.”
Taking your hand, he led you to bed and gestured to you make yourself comfortable while he slowly undressed before you, unbuttoning his shirts so slowly, revealing tantalizing skin inch by inch. You couldn’t take your eyes away, your breath coming in short pants. He was unbelievably gorgeous; built like a Greek God.
He let the shirt fall to the ground, before kicking his shoes and socks and finally undoing his belt and pants, pushing them down and off. You bit your lips in expectation, desperately to see him fully naked as his thumbs hooked over the edge of his black boxers. You could see the shape of his cock pressing against the fabric and all you wanted was to see it fully, have it on your hands; in your mouth; inside you.
“Are you ready to tell me what you want?” he asked and once again the words wouldn’t come. “Then maybe I should leave these on,” he declared, taking his hands away and you whimpered and pouted as he chuckled and crawled on top of you.
For the first time that night his lips found yours, kissing you softly; tongue exploring your mouth, tangling with yours as he settled between your legs, holding most of his weight on his elbows.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered, voice husky and throaty, mouthing the line of your jaw, making you arch your neck, giving him more room. “Just ask for it. We both want it. You don’t get to come until you ask me for it.”
All you managed in reply was a desperate little whine as once again his lips traveled down your body, setting it ablaze with arousal and want and you were so soaked your panties were starting to get uncomfortable. It was a relief when he finally pulled them off you before he spread your knees and just looked at you.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said before kissing your inner thigh, coming dangerously close to your cunt, but never quite there.
You were shaking with desire, one hand fisting the sheets, the other gripped his hair, tugging him to where you wanted him, but he pulled away, making a disappointed sound on the back of his throat.
“What did I tell you?” he asked with a smirk as he got up and moved to the wooden chest. Your heart thundered in your chest as he pulled it open and taking out a long strip of black silky rope. “Keep still or I’ll have to tie you.” You eyed the rope nervously, chewing on your bottom lip. “Do you wanna use your safeword?”
“No, boss,” you replied after a long moment. You wanted this. Every inch of your body begged for it. “No safeword.” You raised your arms above your head, hands coming to the headboard.
“Good girl,” he praised again with a smile; delft fingers tying your wrists together before his attention came back to you. “Ok?”
“Yes, boss.”
“Good.” He kissed you again; an obvious reward for accepting your fate so easily.
You should be terrified. He was a complete stranger and he could do whatever he wanted to you. You were at his mercy with only his promise to stop if it got too much. This was dangerous and you should be panicking, but all you felt was excitement and arousal. You wanted this more than you wanted anything else in the bedroom before.
“Boss?” you called, voice soft, hesitant and he looked at you, his eyes curious, full of expectation.
“Yes?”
“Fuck me, please.” You could feel your cheeks burning and you couldn’t hold his gaze. Here you were, stripped naked and tied to a bed, but it was those words that made you blush.
“Of course, baby,” he said, kissing you again. Yet another reward and you took it desperately, wanting everything he was willing to give you. “You’ve been such a good girl. You deserve it.”
This time, when he moved down your body, kissing and nipping and licking, making anticipation build deep inside you, making that wet heat coil tight in your lower belly, you knew you would finally have some release.
At the first touch of his tongue against your folds, you buckled your hips, a dragged-out moan came out of your mouth as you gripped the headboard. He held you still with one hand, licking and tasting and teasing you, before he sucked your clit between his lips and you cried out, your body quaking with need and he barely did anything.
“Please, boss,” you begged in a whine.
“Not yet. We’ve only just begun,” he replied, mouth returning to work.
He alternated flickering his tongue against your clit, with sucking kisses that left you moaning and shaking, your wetness slicking your thighs as you tried to roll your hips closer, trying to ease some of the maddening pleasure inside you that made your cunt clench around nothing.
“Oh please, please,” you begged again, desperate and needy.
He finally pushed one thick finger inside you, and you cried out as he immediately found that spot inside you that made you see stars; rubbing it over and over it until you were gasping and panting, babbling pleas and promises to be such a good girl for him if he would only let you come.
Finally, you felt his finger moving and you thought he would give you the release your craved for. Instead, he pulled out completely and you let out a loud keening whine, tears gathering on the corner of your eyes from need and frustration.
“Shush now, baby,” he cooed, petting your hair gently and kissing your forehead. “We’re almost there. Can you hang on a little longer for me?”
“Yes, boss.” Your voice was weak, shaky. You were panting like you ran a marathon and you had never felt this high-strung before, but the thought of saying no to him was the farthest thing from your mind.
“Such a good girl for me,” he said with a smile, finally taking off his boxers and freeing his cock, giving you a moment to admire it.
You had a feeling he was big, but it was even better than you imagined, and you wanted in your mouth. Desperately.  
“Not tonight,” he replied, and you realized you said it aloud, your mind too foggy to stop your thoughts from coming to your mouth. “But I want that too.”
You watched as he reached into the bedside table, picking up a condom and rolling it on himself, stroking his cock a couple of times, grunting low in his throat and you whined again because you wanted to do that. You want to touch him. Feel him.
His large hands took hold of your legs, bringing them to his shoulders as he knelt before you, lining himself with your entrance, his head teasing your slit and making you throw your head back and groan.
“Is this what you want, baby?”
“Yes!” you all but screamed, trying to move, but this position left you with very little leverage. “Yes! Please! I want it! Please, boss.”
He grinned at you and finally pushed inside and this time you shouted, the pleasure almost too overwhelming with the way he filled and stretched you, rubbing at all the right spots. He bent closer, catching your lips in a dirty kiss while you acclimated to the intrusion, his thumb working magic on your clit and you didn’t know how it was possible for you to be this close already. Then again, you had been teetering the edge of it for so long with his teasing that it really only took a nudge now.
“Ready?” he asked against your lips and all you could manage of a nod.
He finally started to move, pulling all the way out before pushing inside again, slow and steady, letting you adjust to him, before speeding up his thrusts as he increased pressure on your clit and laved your neck and chest with bite and kisses, sucking on the spot just below your ear that had you weak and struggle against your retrains as your first orgasm washed over you, making you gasp and shake.
He fucked you through it, a smug grin making its way into his lips as your body quaked and quivered, his movements getting that tension deep inside you to start to build up again. It was so overwhelming you couldn’t think, you couldn’t focus on anything except beg incoherently for it. A flow of confused pleas spilling from your lips as he fucked you, his pace increasing, his hips slapping against you, filling the room with the sound of skin hitting wetly against skin, and your moans.
“Look at me, baby,” he asked in between pants, his thumb brushing against the edge of your mask. “I’m gonna take this off. This time I wanna look at you when you come.”
You nodded, too far gone to care. You could only focus on yourself and how close you were again. You barely felt him sneaking one hand behind your head, undoing to knot that held the mask in place, before pulling it off.
“Fuck!” he whispered, his blue eyes widening behind his own mask as he looked at you. You saw something changing in him seconds before his mouth crashed on yours and you could almost taste his own desperation and he fucked you with abandon, his thumb swirling your clit. “Come for me, baby.”
His words snapped something inside you, making pleasure crash over you again and your entire body felt alight as you came, crying out a name you shouldn’t be saying here.
“HENRY!” you shouted, body shaking and trembling, walls tightening around him and he moaned your name against your neck, thrusting through his own release.
You two lied there, sweaty, tired and out of breath, bodies pressed together as your heartrates returned to normal along with your breathing and your ability to think.
Two things registered on your mind then: you shouted out your boss’ name when you came. And this man who was supposed to be a stranger called out yours.
“You know my name,” you declared, fighting off the haze of pleasure so you could focus on him. “How do you know my name?”
You felt him sighing heavily against your neck before he raised himself and looked at you. Without saying a word, he untied you, rubbing your wrists soothingly.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, helping you sit up. You shook your head, still watching him with a frown.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I know,” he said, once again sighing. “I promised I didn’t know. Not until your mask was off.”
Before you could ask him what he was talking about, he took off his own mask and you stared stunned and mortified because it was him. It was Henry.
The man you’ve been fantasizing about for half a year. The reason you wanted to call the supposed stranger boss in the first place. The man you called out the name when you came.
“Fuck!” you whispered, all the afterglow from the mind-blowing orgasms you just had completely forgotten. You just wanted the ground to open and swallow you whole.
“Look, I know. Of all the places in the world…” Henry let out a small, humorless chuckle. “I didn’t even know you saw me like that.”
He tried to move closer to you, but the motion made him aware of the mess he was about to make on the bed with the condom coming off from his now softening cock.
“Give me a sec and we’ll talk about this, ok?”
You waited until he was inside the bathroom to jump off the bed, pulling on your dress and all but running out of the room, putting on your heels as you went. You couldn’t stay. You couldn’t even look at him. Talk about this? It was unthinkable. You just needed to get as far away from Henry; as far away from this damned place as you could.
You should’ve listened to yourself. You knew this wouldn’t end up well. Were you really surprised it turned into this train wreck?
xxx
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sillybub · 3 years
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ok so i’m trying to write a cats fanfic for the first time (fanfic for the first time i’ve never written one) and i’m mostly just hyper fixated on a few characters so i have no idea how to write anyone else, do u think u could drop some personality hcs about the younger cats who don’t have songs (provincial, ecetra... ect. lol) i would appreciate it greatly!!!!
!!!!!! HELL YEAH SURE I CAN
Pouncival
He's the character I think about the least, tbh, so I'll start with him.
He's very much an annoying little brother figure who tries to act cooler and tougher than he really is. He's super impressionable because he wants to fit in, so he kind of just goes along with what everyone else is doing. Generally just a little shit who likes getting on people's nerves.
Tumblebrutus
Parkour junkie. I saw him described as a juvenile delinquent once, and that really stuck with me. He likes to get into trouble and thinks himself a rebel, but don't let that fool you. He's very respectful to his elders, and is a model Well Behaved Lad that his parents love to brag about. He very much as the energy of the oldest kid who was left in charge of the other kids. He does enjoy stunts and showing off a lot, of course. He's actually fairly reasonable and smart; he absolutely knows what he's doing is stupid, but it's fun so he does it anyways.
Etcetera
SHE'S SO EXCITED!! Her emotions are always at 100% and she has no small feelings. She has so much energy and she is constantly chattering or moving around somehow. Because she's a big chatterbox, she's also the worst secret keeper ever. If she knows something, it's not long before everyone knows.
She has an incredible sense of humor and loves to poke fun at her friends. She's perpetually here to have a good time, and that combined with her lack of self-control, make her very accident prone. If you dare her to do anything, she will do it on the spot. Prank call, public, embarrassment--as long as it will make her friends laugh she's SO down.
She loves her friends SO much, and would do anything for them. She'll throw hands at the drop of the hat, DON'T try her. She's not actually very tough, but that won't stop her from trying. She takes no shit at all and stands up for her buddies.
Electra
Electra has a few layers to her. She's a guarded and reserved person, so she's the quietest of the bunch. She's definitely an introvert, and prefers hanging out in small groups. On the surface, she's polite and demure.
She's prideful of her independence and it can be hard to get close to her, but once she warms up to you, her personality becomes a LOT more animated. She loves stupid little jokes and stories, and she has a pretty creative mind for coming up with them. She's really clever and observant, so she can be a BLAST to hang out with.
She sort of has a perfectionist complex. She was on her own for most of her childhood, and the Jellicles are the best thing to ever happen to her. She wants to be a good friend in return, so she tends to keep all of her own problems bottled up because she doesn't want to be a burden. She's FINE, of course she doesn't have any trouble with her personal sense of belonging and abandonment issues!! Inferior complex?? Ahahaha get outta here!!
Jemima
She's the baby of the group 💕 She's super friendly and cheerful, and her positive vibes are super infectious. It's hard to be in a bad mood around her; her innocence and genuine kindness have a way of worming into your heart and making you want to protect her at all costs.
She's a lot more perceptive and observational than most people expect. She easily picks up on people's feelings, so she's a very empathic and kind person. She has this uncanny way of being able to get an exact read on people after having one conversation, and as a result, she's incredibly easy to talk to. Her understanding and kind gaze set people at ease, and they tell her all kinds of secrets. Thank God she chooses to use her powers for good.
She's a REALLY good listener as well, so she's the friend that you go to when you need to vent. She's the youngest kitten, but it's easy to forget that when she's spouting wisdom to you.
She's also not afraid to tell you what you need to hear over what you want to hear. She can be a little brutal if you're full of shit, and there's nothing more painful than seeing her disappointed in you.
BONUS: Victoria and Plato! I don't quite see either of them as kittens, so much as Baby Adults
Victoria
She's very poised and graceful, and that combined with her confidence can sometimes make her come off as a little condescending.
She does have high expectations for herself, and is definitely a perfectionist. She works hard to be the best that she can be, which earns her a lot of admiration. Her cool composure and elegance make her super attractive, and she's QUITE popular.
She's pretty well-adjusted, actually. She doesn't have much that troubles her, but she's prone to over-exerting herself to meet her personal goals and standards.
Plato
He's the only cat that I would confidently call a himbo. He's dumb as a brick, very strong, and chugs Respect Women Juice for breakfast.
He's everybody's best friend; he calls everyone "pal" and "buddy" because it takes him a while to remember new people's names. By the time their actual names are drilled into him, calling them by a nickname is already a habit.
He actually gets lost in thought a lot. He'll stare at a flower for a long time, completely stuck on "Hnnn,,, pretty flower,,,, wonder if any bees have visited it today,,,, do flowers get lonely when the bees aren't around? Do flowers have feelings? Sunflowers seem like they'd be happy a lot" and then he'll be sitting there drooling for hours as his thoughts go off on ten different tangents
And then he'll ask what the Spanish word for torilla is or something.
He's a REALLY nice guy who you can depend on to help you carry heavy things. He likes holding things because he's never sure what to do with his hands; his favorite thing ever is giving people piggyback rides or just holding them in his arms like a baby. His hugs are just the absolute BEST.
Best of luck with your fic!!! I'd love to read it when you're done!!
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Destiel, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s), Dean Winchester/Other(s) Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Charlie Bradbury, Jo Harvelle, Meg Masters, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Modern AU, Sex Worker, Sex Worker Dean Winchester, Prostitute Dean Winchester, Anal Sex, Angst, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: 
Dean is happy with his life as a hooker. He loves feeling the night air on his face every night, and he is good at his job. One day he meets Castiel, the handsomest man he’s ever seen with the ugliest car in the world, and everything changes.
***
Hey y’all! I’m finally posting the fic I was talking about! Im really excited for this, so please let me know what you think!

Dean felt alive tonight. It was a beautiful fall night in Kansas City, Kasas. The breeze was present enough that Dean didn’t feel like he was drowning in his own sweat, but it wasn’t enough to make him cold. Dean was wearing his favorite pair of shorts, – the jean ones that were obscenely short and tight – this little black tight mesh top, and these little black heeled boots. He felt hot, and like he could take the whole world by storm.

Dean was leaning against the building talking to his girls.There were plenty of people working the street, but Dean, Hannah, Jo, and Charlie all stuck together. Dean and Charlie mostly worked regulars, – Charlie the chicks and Dean the gay dudes– while Hannah and Jo picked up most of the stragglers. That wasn’t to say that Dean didn’t leave with a stranger from time to time; he was the only male hooker this side of town.

Dean was chatting with Charlie, trying to look sexy leaning against a building and laughing hysterically at something she had said, and failing miserably, when the ugliest car Dean had ever seen pulled up. Jo sauntered up to the golden continental, exaggerating the swish of her hips, and leaned in the passenger window, wiggling her booty a little bit. Dean could tell the moment Jo got rejected because she dropped the sexy dance and adopted some more practical behaviors, like bending at the knees instead of the waist. She tapped the side of the car and walked back to the group.
“You’re up, Dean-o,” she announced. Dean pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning on and walked over to the car, throwing a wink over his shoulder at his friends.

When Dean walked up to the ugly-ass car, he took up Jo’s original position, resting his forearms on the open window. He looked in and was stunned.
The man sitting in the driver’s seat was absolutely breath-taking. He had this thick, dark hair that was sticking up every which way, and Dean couldn’t wait to get his fingers in it. Even sitting hunched over like the man was, Dean could tell the man was built like a ton of bricks. He had these big, elegant hands that were shakily rubbing up and down his thick thighs. His bright blue eyes kept flicking between Dean and the road in front of him, and he kept liking his plump, chapped lips.

Dean looked a little longer that he normally would have before he spoke. When he finally found the air to form words, he said, “Hey handsome. Looking for some company?” It was a cheesy line and he knew it, but Dean didn’t really care.
The man looked up at him hesitantly, meeting his eyes for a second before nodding. Dean opened the passenger side door and slid in. He buckled up and was busying himself with straightening his clothes, and he heard the man put the car in drive.

“So,” Dean began as the man started driving off, “where to?”

The man cleared his throat and said “My place,” and Dean just about died. Fuck, that man had a voice that was like wiskey and gravel and honey. If this guy got any sexier Dean’s soul might just leave his body and ascend to heaven without preamble.

“Okay,” Dean most definitely did not squeak out, “my name’s Dean, by the way.” 

“Castiel,” the man growls by way of response.

“Castiel, that’s a cool name. Mind if I call you Cas?” Dean asks.

The man nodded and said nothing else. Dean suddenly feels awkward, and starts fidgeting with his hands. Dean never gets that way. If someone gives him a bad vibe then he can talk his way out of it, usually, and he can usually make conversation with everyone else, but this was different. Something about Cas was throwing Dean off his game; he felt like a teenager going on a date. And that was dumb because one, Dean was a professional, and two, he didn’t even know the guy or have any personal connection to him, so pre-date jitters shouldn’t be an issue. And yet, Dean’s mouth was as dry as the Sahara and his hands were sweating like crazy.

The two men sat in silence for the rest of the short drive. Cas pulled into a middle-class neighborhood, and pulled his ugly car into the garage of a much prettier house. Cas shut off the car and closed the garage door before he got out, and Dean took that as his cue to do the same.

Cas walked into the house, Dean on his heels, and they made their way to the kitchen. The house was a lot nicer on the inside than the outside. Every surface held expensive knick knacks and the walls were lined with framed artifacts. Some of the frames help pictures, and some held awards, while a couple had diplomas. There was not a speck of dust in sight, and Dean was very impressed. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Cas asked.

“Sure, man,” Dean responded, wringing his hands. He still felt weirdly on-edge with this man.

“So no offence, man,” Dean began, “but you’re a good-looking guy, and I imagine you don’t have any problem scoring. So why do you need me?” Cas handed him a glass of water.

“Frankly, I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Dean raised his hands in an “I surrender” gesture and drank his water. When they were done, Cas walked off and Dean followed. They walked to what Dean assumed was the master bedroom. Cas stood off to one side and waited expectantly.

“Okay, so I charge $150 an hour, anything fancy or not vanilla needs to be discussed beforehand, and we use Pretty Woman rules; no kissing on the lips. Sound good?” 
Cas nodded at Dean’s terms, and went to get his wallet. He pulled out $150 in cash and handed it to Dean. 
“I assume you want me to bottom?” Dean asked. Again, Cas nodded his head. Cas then started using his nimble fingers to unbutton his shirt.
Dean put the cash in the back pocket of his shorts for the time being, and pulled off his top. He was working on the button of his shorts when he caught a glimpse of Cas. His shirt was discarded and he was working on his belt, but his chest is what Dean focused on. The man had well-sculpted pacts and a firm middle. He didn’t look like one of those ‘roided up, dehydrated male models, but he looked like he was carved from marble. His shoulders were thick and well-defined, and they drew Dean’s attention to the man’s perfectly sculpted neck.

And now Dean was really confused. He was just starting to think that maybe Cas’ equipment was lacking, and that was why he needed to buy his pleasure, but then Cas pulled down his pants. He still had his boxer briefs on, but Dean could tell the man was hung.
Dean shook himself out of his trance and continued to undress. He pulled off his boots, then his shorts, and lastly the little g-string he wore. Dean walked over to his shorts and grabbed a condom and a little packet of lube that he always kept in his back pocket.

Dean was always prepared before the night began. He didn’t like to think of himself as a pessimist, but many of the guys he serviced were rough and inconsiderate, and he didn’t want to take chances.

So Dean laid down on the bed and pulled out his plug that had a big plastic jewel at the end of it. He set the plug next to him on the bed, and he lubed his fingers up just a bit. He was pretty stretched out, but he made sure he could comfortably fit four fingers inside himself, just in case. When he was done, he propped himself up on his elbows and saw Cas looking at him. The man’s eyes were dark, and he had a feral edge to his gaze. If Dean wasn’t turned on by Cas’ physique, that look would have had him rock hard. 
Dean didn’t like intimacy in these situations – he just wanted to get a good fuck and move on with his life – so he turned over onto his hands and knees, facing away from Cas. Cas also seemed like he wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, because he grabbed Dean’s hips without preamble and lined his cock up with Dean’s entrance. Cas pushed in slowly but firmly, and stilled when he bottomed out. 
Even though Dean was used to this, he still always took a moment at this point to catch his breath. It was easier when he was turned on, but he still always tried to center himself.
Without warning, Cas started to slam in and out of Dean at a blinding pace. His hips slapped against Dean’s ass with every thrust, and for all of Dean’s efforts, he couldn’t breathe. Cas changed his angle slightly and he hit Dean’s prostate so hard that Dean cried out. Dean just sat there, panting and shaking after every one of Cas’ thrusts, only to be blown out of the water again and again.

Cas reached up and grabbed Dean by the neck and shoved his face into the bed. Dean’s breaths were stifled with the bedspread, and between that, the pressure on the back of his neck and the brutal pounding he was taking, Dean was just about in subspace. Dean almost never went there, partially through sheer will, but this was just too good.

As impossible as it seemed, Cas kept fucking harder and faster. Dean was limp at this point, just letting Cas do what he wants. He was so close; he could feel heat curling in his gut, and his toes following suit.
“Cas,” he choked out, barely audible over Cas’ grunting, “I’m close.”
In response, Cas picked up the pace yet again. With one adjustment of his hips, he nailed Dean’s prostate and Dean was flying over the edge. He moaned wantonly, spilling onto the comforter underneath him. As soon as the sensation passed, Dean collapsed under Cas’ weight. Cas just let him lay there, panting, and continued to chase his release. 
After several minutes of Dean feeling blissfully full and overstimulated, Cas’ hips lost their rhythm. He jerked, grinded, and then he stilled. Cas fell on top of Dean. The two men laid there, catching their breaths and coming down from their respective highs.

Eventually, Cas got off Dean. Dean heard him walk around, take the condom off, and throw it away. Dean laid there for just a moment longer, before he lifted himself off of the wet spot he had created.

“Bathroom?” he asked horsley. Cas pointed to an adjoining room. Dean went in there and washed himself off. His head still felt foggy, and he was trying to make all his faculties work again, but he couldn’t seem to pull himself together. It wasn’t that he was complaining; he felt fucking great, it was just different than what he was used to.

When Dean was done, he walked back to the bedroom to get dressed. He found Cas had removed the comforter, and was now laying underneath the sheets. Dean dressed quickly, and pulled some small bills out of his boot, where he kept them. Cas looked about as dead as Dean felt, and Dean didn’t see him moving any time soon.

When Dean was finally dressed and ready to go, he turned to Cas. “You’re a pretty good lay,” he said, “let’s do this again sometime.” With that, Dean threw a wink over his shoulder and sauntered out of the room, scheduling an uber on his way out.
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roseamongroses · 4 years
Text
W.A.L: “A Wizard (And His Stupid Yellow Brick Road) “(7)
Summary:It wasn’t a matter of whether or not they were worthy.It was a matter of who wanted it more. And now they were firmly on the wrong side of history. A history of unfathomable powers and all-knowing immortals, ancient forests and beasts, and a Stranger who wanted to challenge it all.
Vibes/ Tags:time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods
Warnings: Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries,  Mentions of past Death, repression, cursing,
Characters: Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani
Ship: Roceit
1) (2)   (3)  (4) (5)
(6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)
---
“Eden?”
“...Eden?” 
Eden flinched,  registering Roman’s hand on his face, “Don-” he jerked his head away, “Don't touch me.” he managed to say, hair recovering the scales. 
“I…” Roman’s face fell, “You’ve… never minded before…” he said, “Do they really bother you that much?” 
“Yes?” Eden sighed, “No? I don’t know…not really. It feels… natural at this point. I barely notice them. It's… annoying that I can't control them anymore. The Stranger’s gonna get pissy again when he finds out.”                                                                                                                           
At that Roman hummed, leaning against a tree, “They feel natural now, huh?” he had a curious look, “I don’t think it should be a problem.” he said, “In fact, I’m sure the Stranger should’ve been expecting this.” 
“My incompetence?”
“No,” Roman scolded, “It’s like… It’s like a second puberty,” Roman’s fingers snapped at the revelation. Edens stared at him like he’d grown a second head. 
“No, no really.” Roman paced  about talking with his hands, “You were only introduced-- reintroduced-- to magic like what, a year or two ago? This is a sign that you’re body’s getting used to the changes.” he explained, nodding his head raptly, “It’s pretty common to adopt nonhuman or Goddess traits. It shouldn’t affect you learning how to use magic.”
“That… that makes sense,” Eden accepted, though he didn’t move back his hair, “But…” he twisted his head unnaturally, scanning Roman from top to bottom,  “If it’s normal why don’t you have any?” 
“I, uh,” Roman twirled their hair, “I have a few…” he said, “You shouldn’t really get that many, but my family’s magic is natural and strongly tied to the Goddess, so—stop giving me that look.” 
“What look?” Eden shamelessly checked him out again. 
“Stop that--Ugh I swear,” Roman grumbled, “But…” He parted his thick, red curls revealing delicate, ornate horns, curling against his head.
 It was  a blossoming crown, the smooth silver catching the light with a dazzling elegance, before disappearing into the shadow’s of Roman’s curls. Even though Eden had only just seen them, he found it hard to imagine Roman without them. 
Roman squirmed under the attention, hiding the horns abruptly, “See, it’s perfectly normal,” he said, “And I have a few others...but um,” he looked  embarrassed, “It’s um...private. The Stranger probably won’t be too happy about us taking too long we should go--” he called out, skipping ahead. 
“Knowing him, he’s probably asleep,” Eden said, catching up with Roman, staying a step or two behind. He might have been staring a bit. He blamed curiosity. 
Even though the Stranger had teleported them to… here, they insisted on walking the rest of the way to where they would be staying. It didn’t seem as old as the Hearth, but it was a far cry from the towns and cities. It reminded Eden of the woods around his village. 
It seemed like a memory long since drained. Instead of lush, overbearing forests the trees were sparse and rocks plentiful. Any greenery was obscured by a pervasive tint of grey, effectively making Roman the brightest thing for miles. And the loudest. Lets not forget the loudest.
 It was mainly questions or nonsense which  at least drowned out Eden’s  own thoughts for the time being, so he didn’t mind. As the gravel path became rockier, they saw the vague outline of the Stranger and a cavernous entrance stark with shadows. 
Before they caught up with their mentor, however, Roman slowed. Eden knew without looking they had yet another question.
“Hey…” Roman at least had the decency to look ashamed,  “If you do end up adopting more traits… does this…” His shoulders shook and he covered his mouth. Was...was he trying not to laugh? “Do you wonder what other reptile...traits you’ll get?” 
It was such an innocent question, but Roman’s gaze trailed downward in such a suggestive manner that it couldn’t possibly be innocent.
 Eden blinked, confused. He followed Roman’s line of sight, before immediately flushing and becoming the second brightest thing for miles. 
“Roman.” He gritted his teeth.
“Yes, Eden? ” Roman answered, and the bastard was indeed laughing. 
“Fuck. Off.”
---
They descended into the winding caves single file, steps cautious. 
It wasn’t completely dark, however the slivers of light were only a temporary comfort as day faded into night all at once. Despite this, the caves seemingly came into more of focus. Toothy rocks smiling pleasantly, their drool dripping methodically and gathering in murky pools. 
In the midst of shadows, creatures not quite...recognizable scurried and burrowed. Some with  fur growing in  jagged patches of colors Eden couldn’t name, some had scales lummincent and sliding across their skin. Most had silver eyes. Eyes plentiful, beady, and begging.
While the environment wasn’t...threatening, there was certainly an air of it. As if something commanded respect. Even Roman eventually fell silent.
 At a certain point, the Stranger slowed, turning the address the two, “While we’re here,” his voice echoed, seeming too big for the caves, “You two must be on your best behavior. You may or may not like me or my methods-- I don’t care,” he said, tilting his shades downwards, “Follow my orders and don’t waste my time, ” He pushed his shades up and with a flourish of his hand, the path was illuminated in a spiral down and at the bottom was….
“Oh…” Roman gasped as he peered over the edge, “I thought they were all dead?”
---
It was a village, of what, Eden wasn’t sure.
 He knew they weren’t human. However their bright, wide eyes and bustling interactions in unknown, but familiar tongues suggested they weren’t comparable to the beasts lurking in the caves either.  Something about the way they floated on the air, feet barely brushing the ground, had an air of elegance.Their wings a luminescent trail behind them. 
Eden was sure he’s seen the way they moved before, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 
“The Aleseners were one of the first, but The Council had declared them dead,” Roman explained softly, as the Stranger led them past stone homes. They weren’t welcomed, but they weren’t turned away either.  Though Eden did feel their stares lingering, and for once he didn’t suspect it was on himself. 
“There will be plenty of time for a history lesson later,” the Stranger’s scowl fell as he stopped in front of one stone home on the outskirts of the village. It was smaller than the rest, lacking any glowing fungi in the windows, or intricate carving in its walls.
Before the Stranger stepped inside an Alesener appeared. Their skin a soft, glittering silver, with matching doe eyes. Her eyes somehow managing to become wider. She clicked something before drifting with purpose to the Stranger. Their wings lifted to embrace the other tight.The Stranger held her tighter. 
Roman squeaked, covering their face. 
“What’s wrong?” Eden asked, averting his gaze as well.
“It...really…” Roman seemed to be getting even more flustered, “It might be a Sanders thing,but wings are sensitive--at least compared to our skin.” Eden waited for him to explain further and Roman did, despite looking like he’d rather be doing anything, but that. 
“It’s...Intimate, for her to let him touch her wings so directly like that…” he said, hugging his arms, “It isn’t necessarily romantic, but it means they’re...close.” 
“Oh…” Eden said, clicking it all into place. The feathery steps, how Roman floated when the watchdog attacked. 
The outline under Roman’s blouse was faint, but it was definitely there.
“Sanders, Eden,” The Stranger called and the Alesener withdrew their embrace, wings tucked behind them along the curve of their spine, “This is Dot. You’ll be staying with her while you study.” 
“Hello,” She smiled wide, her accent tinkling,  “You must be…” she tilted her head, attention narrowed on Roman and in an instant she was behind him, her wide fingers trailing his shoulder, “A Sanders?” She exclaimed, “I thought they were dead?”
“Almost,” The Stranger said, dry, “Apparently their trial is still ongoing.” 
“Aw, poor things,” Dot mumbled, “And he’s so young too? His wings have hardly grown in…” her finger trailed to Roman’s spine, and he jumped. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Roman  said, non too subtly tucking himself behind Eden’s shoulders, despite  being a few inches taller. 
“I forgot Sanders were such modest things...” Dot said, she met Eden’s narrowed gaze,  “You must be His other student,” she said, as if finally registering Eden’s presence. She fluttered around Eden, studying him, “You’re quite pretty, for a... human.” 
“So I’ve been told,” Eden said,  “My name is Eden.”
Dot seemed pleased at that, “A name? He already has a name? Wonderful,” she said, “Eden? Eden, ” she tested out in that curious way of hers, “I believe I’ve heard that before, from a book perhaps? Was it book?” she asked and the Stranger shrugged, “It was a book you gave me, or maybe it was...yes I’m sure of it. “ she nodded,  “Now did he come with that name, or did the Sanders give it to him?” 
“He isn’t my watchdog.” Roman grumbled.
“Of course not, dear,” She cooed, twirling around, making no comment about the Stranger’s disappearance, “Now come along, I’ll show you where you two will be staying. You’ll start tomorrow.”
---
 It was strange to sleep in two beddings, but Eden suspected Roman might want to keep that distance. Aleseners were pretty adamant about keeping most human by-products out, with a couple exceptions, so they were  forced to wear one of Dot’s many backless, silk dresses. 
They weren’t particularly scandalous to Eden, but Roman wouldn’t look him in the eye until Dot gave him a shawl. 
He watched as Roman played with the red fabric, before asking, “So that glowing guy who attacked you was a watchdog right?”
Roman looked up surprised, “Uh, yeah, that’s Patton,” he said, he turned around so he could face Eden better, “He’s a weird one… but I think that’s because he was so close to my brother. It’s not normal for them to get so attached to one Sanders. Usually they go back to their colonies after a couple years of service.” 
Eden squinted, “Logan?”
“No--” Roman shook his head, “Logan never had watchdogs growing up,” he did not elaborate, “I’m talking about Remus. We’re twins.” 
“This Remus isn’t going to be hunting us down too, right?” Eden sighed. 
Roman looked as if he was remembering something, but he soon laughed it off, “If he was, we wouldn’t have a chance,” he shrugged, leaning back and closing his eyes, “Remus is the strongest. If I was born any later....I wouldn’t have had a chance.” 
“I’m sure he isn’t that strong.” 
“Eden,” Roman inhaled, as if the comment itself was blasphemous, “When I was three,  I was still learning how to breathe without falling over. A nurse was practically glued to my bedside until I was like--what? Twelve. When he was three, he dragged a kraken out of the ocean because my pet fish died.” he said, “He only got stronger.” 
Eden opened his mouth.
Eden closed his mouth.
Eden opened his mouth  “Did you keep the kraken?” he asked. 
“We keep it at our summer home,” Roman said with a raised eyebrow, “Though... the council might’ve repossessed it at this point.” 
Eden blinked, not sure if he was still reeling from the pet kraken or the thought of owning a second home, “So… any other people I should watch out for?” 
“Mm, a lot really,” Roman said, “But I’ll keep it simple. Logan is the one with the glasses. Not big on violence, dreadful bore.  Some say he’s the smartest son-- And I guess?” Roman shrugged, “He thinks well, but you think faster. Sometimes if you act stupid you can piss him off real quick and he gets sloppy, but that’s only when Patton isn’t around.” 
Realizing Roman was answering the question seriously, Eden straightened up, attention sharp. 
“Then there’s Patton, the one I hate the least, who’s still the most dangerous out of all of them. Don’t let him touch you. Don’t. Otherwise, he’s pretty quiet.  And then there’s--” Roman frowned for a moment, “I don’t know his name do I? But he’s the frumpy one with a lot of eyes, talks a lot of shit. He’s quick on his feet, but his legs are weak and  he sucks at combat. If he finds a place to hide, you’re fucked. Oh...and some reason he doesn’t like me.” At that last comment Roman’s eyes sparkled, lips curled in a dangerous way.
Eden leaned in closer, “What did you do?” 
“Well...It was the thirdish time they were sent to get me, and they captured me, right ” Roman started, “And I guess Emile-- Oh yeah stay the fuck away from Emile, he makes you talk about your feelings--but he gave them an assignment about the proper way to handling prisioners, right? So me, a prisoner, was prime material--” 
During the story Roman had become a lot more animated, the shawl slipping and gathering around their waist, and him leaning in as well. Around the time they were describing how easy mystery man is to rile up, Roman had somehow acquired Eden’s hands to play with--which did seem to calm him down in a way that made his overly excited tangents more understandable. So Eden didn’t comment on it. 
 Sometime along the way, their beddings were pushed together. At this point Roman was detailing his “extensive criminal history”---which  moreso resembled Roman fucking with the Council, who contiuously couldn’t find an effective way to keep him contained. 
So Eden eventually relaxed, he listened carefully to the stories-- even the ones that were obviously faked-- enjoying the cadence of Roman’s voice. 
Eden knew he should probably be sleeping soon, he should be preparing for tomorrow, he should be planning, he should be remembering why he wanted  this in the first place but…
But… he’ll allow it, for a little while longer at least.
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i have so many theories!!! theyre all screaming at me!!! i must write out them all!!!!! 
so here’s one that’s been knocking around my head since finals week began:
the Writing 3 Playlist on Spotify 
I think this bad boy is a hint at the game’s timeline
maybe not 100% explanatory, but I think we can guess certain parts of the game through this
and i just wanna tell y’all now, almost all of this is speculation, as honestly im 90% sure the playlist was created bc it had borderlands-y songs in it (although the last few have me scratching my head)
lemme explain why im writing this, though I’m very thirsty for lore
tl;dr: game goes like this: lilith powers stolen. go to promethea, go to jungle, find brick mordy and tina, get into a fight, lose fight, go find other VHs, get into another fight, Krieg shows up to save Maya, maya die. (oh no she ded), the twins have their we are GODS moment, the VHs get summoned to the Eridian homeworld, there’s a huge ass final battle, someone attempts to create an end-of-the-world scenario
so the playlist itself was created to help one of the authors of the game get into their borderlands jam 
it starts with a Cage the Elephant song, “Trouble”, the band of which we all know wrote the first song used in BL1. Not really much else to say here, but we do know the opening cutscene of the game involves our current team of Vault Hunters being attacked by the Children of the Vault. this is, of course, not indicative of any songs used in bl3, but we can assume it captures the general feeling of the game.
Second song: “Fire” by Barns Courtney (holy shit I love this guy so fucking much!! if you’ve never listened to his music, PLEASE do so! I really recommend “Rather Die”- I am in the process of making a bl3 animatic to it actually lmao). 
So anyway, I’m just sayin’, the lyrics of this song...
“Oh, a thousand faces staring at me Thousand times I've fallen Thousand voices dead at my feet Now I'm gone... And my mother told me son let it be Sold my soul to the calling Sold my soul to a sweet melody Now I'm gone... Oh gimme that fire ...”
Honestly, I would not be surprised if this song was about Lilith’s loss of her powers. I mean, she used to call herself the Firehawk because she burned the shit outta bandits. c’monnn.
The man, the myth, the legend himself even says that "[The song is] quite defiant as well, like this cannot be how it ends, it cannot be my situation."
Mooooving on
“Majesty” by Apashe and Wasiu
holy fuck i love this song so much. and its so very obviously about the Calypso Twins- at the very least its Tyreen.
“All the stars and galaxies address me as your majesty So better say your majesty, I might react erratically Throw you in a fire, purify you I'm the sire, my empire's on the rise You better find yourself a place to hide Your place to find, but say it twice My name divine, I'm aimin' high Don't look in my face or eyes Take a bow and save your life Glory to the emperor, my temperature is risin' Always hot, it's getting violent”
I mean come on if its not when we meet the twins for the first time after they steal lily’s powers, then its definitely when they do something absolutely badass and really show us why they’re revered as gods. Possibly related to the Holy Broadcasting Center?
“The Way I Do” by Bishopp Briggs 
this one honestly had got me stumped as to its purpose, i lowkey kinda think its getting Sanctuary 3 up and running (and possibly meeting Maya for the first time- still not sure about that). I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a whole thing for Scooter and this song fits pretty well. I imagine we also meet Vaughn and the Children at some point, so maybe here?
“Greeting the Menace” by Zack Hemsey 
yeah i uhhhh dunno. This sounds like a song about a dude getting tortured which scares me a bit lmao. 
I thought maybe this song and the next 2 could be VH-based songs, as the next 2 have no lyrics whatsoever and the third is called “Best Friends”, but who knows... If this is the case I could make the argument this is about Zane or Moze, leaning towards Zane cuz he’s pretty covered up, plus I think “Best Friends” would be more Moze’s style lmao
I could also see this being a song about Troy... could explain all the ‘body mods’ and the missing arm.
“ProtoVision” by Kavinsky
If we’re going with the idea that these next few songs are about the Vault Hunters, then I imagine this would be Fl4k’s. It’s got that synth and some guitar which I think fits perfectly with his robo-hobo aesthetic lol
Other than that, I truly have no idea what part of the story this song could reference since there aren’t any lyrics. Maybe Promethea’s city? I could kinda see it, it sounds pretty high-tech
Similarly, “diatribe.” by Oliver Michael
the beginning gives me a whole meditation vibe which I kinda associate with Amara and her phasecast skill which “sends out an astral projection” of herself. 
Then again, this could be the outskirts of the Promethean city... I could see myself wandering around the huge ass foliage and discovering an abandoned research base to this song idk
“Best Friends” by grandson
aaahh i love grandson. I think this could be a Moze-based song. I just get that vibe from her leather jacket... anyway
I also could totally see this as discovering Brick, Mordecai, and Tina in the research base (if that truly is where they are). Cause we saw them in the trailer hanging out there. 
tbh the lyrics themselves kinda remind me of pre-Tales Rhys and Fiona and all their friends
“All of my best friends Like to go and get fucked up Then they talk about all the lives they never got to live Oh, they're still waiting for some sort of invitation It's never coming along, oh no, you'll get just what you give”
but idk if that’s what its meant for
“Bap U” by Party Favor
hmm another ‘lyricless’ song. not really lyric-less but uhhh the lyrics are pretty nonsensical lol
I could see there being a fight scene with Brick Tina and Mordy as AIs helping out here, maybe exploring the abandoned research base?
“Not Human” by elegant slims 
oh you know what im going to say here hahaha
monster troy p l e a s e
i wouldn’t be surprised if Tyreen started accumulating more powers here, like perhaps the previous fight scene was over the Vault on Promethea and the twins were able to access it before us? and Tyreen gives the Vault Monster the succ
“Crack in the seams You're breaking through The animal inside of you You're not human anymore... Your eyes go black electric blue The animal inside of you Life on a string Watch it swing Hide your teeth”
and one (or both) of the twins start going feral lol
“Way Down We Go” by KALEO
one (1) fear and that’s that someone dies during the scene that corresponds to this song
hopefully its just the boys being depressed over a loss instead of a victory, but oof
anyway, you know what they say: “sometimes you gotta fall before you make it big” ;) thats a typhon deleon quote
“I’m a Wanted Man” by Royal Deluxe
I want to believe these next few songs are us recruiting the rest of the Vault Hunters not seen yet
I kinda associate this one with Axton since his whole History with DAHL, but who knows! It could be Gaige, too. or Maya since she looks like she’s being incredibly gay criminal on the Maliwan Monastery planet. Maybe both Axton and Gaige? I would love that
“The Devil You Know” by X Ambassadors 
Could also be Axton! I lowkey think its Salvador or Timothy Lawrence. The reason I think its Timothy is cuz the whole song gives me huge Handsome Jack vibes, but it could also be Sal cuz I totally imagine him becoming a bounty hunter to fund his gun addiction lmao
“00000 Million” by Ella Vos
this one also gives off Maya vibes imo. I wouldn’t be surprised if this one is about her and the introduction of Little Blue. I could also see Athena and Janey here, just living their lives out in a cottage somewhere. awww
“Jungle” by Tash Sultana
Ahh a love song [pukes] Hopefully this one is about Athena and Janey, cuz there is a depressing lack of both of them in all the trailers we’ve seen! It sounds lowkey sad, though. I hope nothing happened to them D:
“Don’t Wait Up” by Dustbowl Revival
this one gives me very big Fiona and Sasha vibes. 
Of course, there’s also the fact that the song is about a dad, and we still don’t know who the heck “the Father” is on all those Calypsos posters. We also dunno who in the heck “Mother” is, either. Sounds like Father left the cult, though, oof, and Mother stuck around. Wonder what that’s all about, maybe he felt like the twins were working fast/efficient enough and left to do things himself? Very lost on this idea tbh. the song seems very out of place, but it has to connect to something, yknow?
“Dies Irae” by Apashe and Black Prez
For those of you who don’t speak fluent Latin (the fuck guys?? lmao jk), the title means "Day of Wrath". Nice, nice, nice. 
the lyrics, you might be asking:
“'Cause I'ma beast. Where you at? I've been unleashed. Whatchu doin'? Sink my teeth. Y'all can't fathom I'ma beast”
me: [vibrating in my seat] monster twins monster twins monster twins monster twins
at the very least this is definitely a fight scene here. Probably with the twins again (hopefully). Maybe they found some way to imbue the cultists with fucked up powers and are sending them against the VHs as giant demon things and as we fight through the temple (apparently with some Guardians) we realize the final one is Troy and/or Tyreen?
I like to imagine this is where Maya gets her powers stolen, if only because the next few songs... I think she’s around because she’s now the only person with Siren powers on the side of the Crimson Raiders, so they might need her help with the Vault in some way
“RAMPAGE” by GRAVEDGR
y’all wonder why I seemingly forgot about Krieg in the above songs? Well, this is why. 
The only lyric for this entire song is “Bitch, I'm on a rampage- mask on my damn face”
I mean come on, Krieg with his psycho mask on, the fact his action skill is literally called “Buzz Axe Rampage”, the fact he loves Maya as shown in his introductory trailer... it’d be so perfect. And I bet badass psycho Krieg would be the only thing able to beat back whatever’s attacking at the moment. I’m just imagining him smashing down a wall and going apeshit
“Black Out Days” by Phantograms
Another song I think is about Krieg and Maya. I don’t think Maya does too hot in this game, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she gets the Roland treatment if you know what I’m saying. I wonder if this causes Krieg to devolve back into insanity cause the whole song seems to focus around that. I hope not D:
“Hide the sun I will leave your face out of my mind You should save your eyes A thousand voices howling in my head Speak in tongues I don't even recognize your face Mirror on the wall Tell me all the ways to stay away”
To be honest I could also see it being that Maya gets her powers stolen and thoughtlock-ed by the twins to fight on their side (as she’s seen fighting with the big demon elemental things), and maybe we have to kill her or hurt her in some way to get her to stop attacking us. God I hope not.
Let’s hope this is someway about the twins and definitely not about our favorite Siren and/or Psycho
“The Finishing” by Stavroz
oof i think somebody dies... If its not Maya, my best guess is Krieg or Lilith. Maybe Mordecai or Brick? Oh I hope not, I love both of them way too much for it to be healthy. But, hey, at least Tina learned some coping mechanisms :(
“Intro” and “Apocalypse Please” by Muse
merged these into 1 because Intro is like 15 seconds long and is literally the introduction to Apocalypse Please. 
Definitely reaching the end of the game here... 
“And it's time we saw a miracle Come on, it's time for something biblical To pull us through And pull us through And this is the end This is the end Of the world Proclaim eternal victory Come on and change the cause of history And pull us through”
I think the twins (or whoever may have become the main villain- perhaps the Eridians?) have claimed victory/gotten the ultimate power in one way or another, and/or this is the Crimson Raiders getting themselves ready for a final stand-off with the big bad evil guy. 
I would really love if there’s a scene right at the end of this where the Twins have their huge “BOW TO ME” moment and then they just get COMPLETELY obliterated by a new villain. Just absolutely decimated.
New villain, like if they opened a Vault and whatever was being imprisoned there just wipes the floor with them (something like the Destroyer, if not the Destroyer itself), or fuck shit maybe even Tannis? or the Eridians looking for help in the war. or the Eridians bringing war. Who knows!
Again, could just be the Twins having gotten their hands on the end-game material, like realizing they can turn troy into big demon fuck (no i am not letting this one go) and we are kinda fucked now.
“Free Animal” by Foreign Air
I... have no idea lol
maybe Krieg getting rescued, maybe (one of?) the twins getting recruited by the Raiders for the final fight? It could fit into the ‘Beast’ imagery. Fuck, maybe even rescuing/finding Typhon or something? Idk, im kinda in the party that Typhon is going to be coming back some way or another lol, I’d love to meet the guy
“Dreams” by ZHU and Nero
This definitely sounds like a new BBEG has just been introduced or the big bads just entered the final phase of their plan, like the Crimson Raiders just learned about something life-changing and this is their “oh shit” moment
i wanna believe that the Eridians or another alien race (like the Seraphs!) are going to come in at the ‘end’ of the game and the Watcher is gonna be like “bitch did you really think I thought these dumbass ECHOnet streamers were the epitome of War??” I imagine we’d be on the side of the Eridians here, since y’know, the Watcher came to us for help.
Of course, the twins could still be the BBEG and have gotten their hands on that universe-destroying power that was described on the website (”to recover a map to ancient Vaults and prevent a universe-destroying power from falling into the wrong hands”) so maybe the Eridians called us in in order to meet and get help against the COV?
“Beyond the Fray” by Cassandra Violet
personally i think this one is about the Eridian homeworld
“I'll mark the day When we can meet beyond the fray Don't lose the will to see your home You find the way so we can meet beyond the fray I'll fight to see that you get home Consider this small clue Look beyond your point of view Make a space for honesty hide“
Wouldn’t even be surprised if someone made a sacrifice so we could get there... I imagine its hidden somewhere in the alternate dimension or wherever the Vaults lead to so it couldn’t be found, so maybe Lilith’s got her powers back at this point and she sacrifices herself to send us there?
idk...
“Outside the Realm” by Big Giant Circles
ah yes, another reason I think the end of the game involves the Eridian homeworld in some way. Have you heard this?? huge “we just stumbled upon a long-lost-alien-planet” vibe. I love it. Maybe even just a shot of Sanctuary III slowly gliding over the giant planet, having just exited phasewalk. God yes
“Battle Royale” by Apashe
another reason i think the final fight is some giant battlefield/wave fight instead of just against 1 or 2 enemies. not to mention the fact that the VH skills we’ve seen so far are crowd control based instead of raid boss focused. 
Its likely the VHs against the Cult of the Vault, but if we defeat the Twins halfway through the game, then the Cult will dissolve on its own. Either way, I really really really really really want a huge fight against an army. I don’t care if its against the Children of the Vault, the Eridians/some Guardians, or if its against the Seraphs or a new set of aliens we’re gonna get (maybe whatever the Destroyer was/is?). idk idc i just want a huge battle. I imagine we’re on the Eridians’ side, as I said above, but who knows, maybe the Watcher went rogue. 
oh and also, the next song:
“Doomsday” by NERO
oh hey, I recognize this song, it’s giving me major BL2 flashbacks lmao
Also the last song in the playlist, which is giving me the big fear (tm)
I imagine that we wouldn’t have been brought to the Eridian homeworld if it wasn’t kind of a huge deal, and what’s more of a huge deal than the end of the universe?!
that’s what i’d call doomsday, anyway.
could be the reason the Eridians are coming out of hiding after all this time. Either to stop our dumb human asses from opening the Vaults, or to get help against these alien fucks because our dumb human asses keep destroying their first line of defense- the Vault Monsters.
If the twins actually DO remain the main villains throughout the whole game, then I imagine this is them prepping to destroy the universe
but maaaan i really want some aliens... maybe the universe destroying power IS the aliens? aw hell yeah
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iheartarrow · 6 years
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Random Arrow thoughts
Arrow is back, bitches!!!! YAY!!
These are my random thoughts for 6x01...
- So Oliver’s not running anymore, but at least the episode started with the coolest jump trick. It looked awesome!
- Wild Dog got a new suit! Looks very badass, love it! I’m glad he survived Lian Yu.
- The jolly change in music when Curtis comes into the scene with his T-spheres chasing the missile, is so cheezy and random, I snickered watching that part. Felt like I was watching a cartoon.
- So Slade ran off on his own, leaving everyone behind?! And here during the hiatus I was thinking he would be the hero that would save them all (or most of them)... how disappointing. But they didn’t really show how people survived yet, so there’s hope that there’s more story to tell in those flashbacks.
- DELICITY!! Dig won’t go without saving Felicity, that’s my Digg! I wonder if his new PTSD has something to do with that explosion that got him? It’s like in dire situations when he might get himself killed, Diggle freezes. After shooting his brother, looks like John is “seeking” (or creating) deadly situations to punish himself?! He’s taking unnecessary risks.
- Felicity with burgers... looks fucking hot! Donna is still there, phew... good to know, even through a mention.
- Ok, I didn’t get it, was Oliver asking Felicity to join him and William for dinner because he wanted to tell his son that they are dating, or was there something else?! From Olicity this episode I got that they are “secretly” (from William) seeing each other. They are being sneaky. And why would Oliver need a buffer with his son?
- Those two lovebirds are still killing me with their chemistry and sexual vibes. Oliver looking at Felicity’s lips when he asks “Promise?” is hot and yeah, very, very promising.
- The kid is still a terrible actor... I hope Stephen will teach him some basic acting skills, show him the ropes... The kid has to act out many very emotionally heavy scenes, so that excuses his poor acting somewhat. He has a lot to learn.
- Ok, I gotta admit, I have no idea why so many fans are so hyped for Raisa’s character. I’ve read about her more in fanfics than watched her on the show. The character was like in one episode, five seasons ago. So where does all the excitement come from?! Either way, it’s nice to have a returning character. And I’m especially happy that the writers remember this character and the reaction that fans showed regarding Raisa, that they even concidered bringing her back. Bravo! Great move for the story - to have the nanny that raised Oliver, to help with his son!
- The kid isn’t even looking at Oliver, and is calling him by name. Looks like Oliver hasn’t had any progress in bonding with his son in those 5 months.
- Stupid Bob... why name a guy that’s gonna get blown up in a minute, because of his stupidity?!
- I’m really starting to hate those Black Siren’s cat-walks... that’s all she does FFS, just walks around like a peacock showing off its tail. I mean there’s zero acting on her part, and my eyes were switching from her to that crazy toothless bomb lover Alex,  whenever they were in a shot togethere. So far she’s a shell of the villain she ought to be, her goons do everything for her and she’s someone’s bitch herself... for me she lacks expressiveness, personality, and uniqueness... for now. How long is she gonna use the “daugher” card with Quentin, eh?!
- “Unless our Laurel is mysteriously back from the dead... - something I wouldn’t put past either of the Lance sisters...” LOL... I chocked here. Arrow is making fun of itself... bwahahaha...
- Dinah is awesome!!! The girl can fight and the actress looks fantastic while kicking ass, unlike her predecessor. Finally, a worthy BC.
- They really never smell a trap and never learn that any thing left to be found is left there on purpose, TO BE FOUND...tsk
- Look, Quentin... Alternate Earths with infinite number of “us” exist because of our differences from those other “us”. It’s the difference between us and them that creates the new possibility, the new “if” in the Universe. And that difference is that special something that we ouselves could never be, or rather chose NOT to be. That choice, that different path in life is our insignia, our unique mark from birth to that point in life when the choice was made and each version of us on every Eath became a possibility. It’s like building different constructions with the same bricks. The basic bricks are the same, but the finished design is unique in every case. At least that’s how I understand this multiple Earths thing. Quentin sees his Laurel in BS, but at the same time doesn’t BS see her dad in our Quentin?! Maybe her own dad was an asshole and that’s part of the reason why she turned out this way?!
-  The whole scene where William points at Oliver as the “bad man”, is really super cheezy. No kid would point at the man he’s afraid of and boldly call him a “bad man”. That whole scene psychologically doesn’t make sense to me. This is once again about Oliver feeling guilty, rather than the kid mourning his mother and figuring out how to live with his newly found superhero father...
- Was Arrow so low on  budget that they couldn’t make Samantha’s death more memorable?! Like make her cough up blood or something before she died? Really, that scene was so cut and dried, so  routine...
- Felicity in every scene - so hot, but in the scene with that beautiful hair - so fucking gorgeous!!!
- Surprisingly, I enjoy scenes with Curtis! About time he is useful and stopped being a liability!! Go Curtis!
- Pike is alive... LOL. Good actor, why aren’t they making his role more prominent?!
- Digg is pissed!!! I love pissed Digg. The man wanted to sit this one out, but ended up in the thick of it. I loved how he smashed into those racks with training equipment... so pissed...
- “Takes one to know one... sweetheart...” LOL!!
- Aw, Rene... such a sweet scene with Oliver!!
- I love how in this episode Oliver gives advices rather than receives them. Especially fatherly advice - with Rene, Quentin and even Slade. So much growth!!
- So Thea is in a coma, but she’s gonna wake up sometime soon. I wonder if the bad guy will have something to do with it and maybe turn her to the dark side, or is she going to wake up on her own and just join the team?!
- The kids room looks stylish, but a little creepy for a kid. Lighten it up a bit, hang some posters or something else... All I can say is that the room looks like a  temporary place, not to live in, but to stay in, just for a while... I hope that changes.
- Oliver’s words to William were very touching and made me tear up. He said “I’m your dad. And the way that works is :I’m gonna be there for you, wether you want me to be or not. I am never, ever, walking away from you!” And then I remembered another father that walked away from his child - Felicity’s dad. I think she can be helpful in some areas concerning absentee fathers and what it’s like to grow up with only your mother caring for you. In any case, I am looking forward to watching her interactions with William and Oliver as a father.
- Oh, I definitely wanna eavesdrop on Oliver’s late night calls with Felicity!! 
- And BOOM! First episode, and the theme of the season is revealed! Yahoo!! This is awesome!
I loved the episode very much, and it definitely sparked my enthusiasm for this new season, I’m very excited! I want Felicity’s wardrobe from this episode. What a gorgeous, elegant, intelligent woman Felicity is! Beautiful inside and outside!
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sawyersscribbles · 6 years
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Eden’s Horizon (Part 2) My WIP
Hi again! I thought since I’ve made some good progress on my wip that I may as well post it on here! (You can check out the first part here, it’s not that long) *sigh* here’s the trust, I was convinced by @shipthedame that maybe this whole project wasn’t all for nothing, so I’m hoping this next post is satisfying! Without further adieu, heeeere we go!
Eden Academy was as secluded in the forest as Zenith’s home. Just to arrive to school, she drove her brother’s car, alone, until the rows of trees on either side of the trail gave way to a majestic grandfatherly building that reminded her more of an ancient estate than a place of learning. “Teachers” had since been abolished, and all learning was done online. Using AIs to teach youth was, in the government's opinion as well as her parents, more efficient. Human error in general was just too great a risk to bare. That was why Cylo was reluctant to send her in the first place, but living in this dead zone meant that contact with any of her old teachers would be impossible. She didn’t exactly miss them, but having a definitive source of information was better than having a person. On the other hand, she had never before had to interact with another adult other than her brother’s commanders and their wives. “It’ll be new.” Zenith told herself. She eased her foot off the gas and twisted her neck out the window to look up at the huge clock town resting quietly atop the school building, if one could even call it that. “It’ll be good.” Upon closer examination, the building was much less old and terrible than she expected. It was small, maybe only the size of a fancy house, but every window was lit, and in some, Zenith could even see the backs of some people pressing against the glass. The exterior was made of old bricks that looked crumbly on the outside. Zenith reached out with her left hand to touch the school walls, but when she saw her titanium fingers long for the stones, she retracted. “Miss! Zenith Maruzzo! I can…oh goodness…I can see a new student from afar.” The woman running up to her was wheezing a bit from jogging a small bit of a distance. She was a rather large woman with short legs and a wide abdomen. Her leggings fit her nicely, though. “My name is Ms. LeBlanc, and you’ll be seeing a lot of me in the coming years. I’m head principal of Eden Academy, and my sole purpose of the day is to, well, make you feel as comfortable as I can here.” Ms. LeBlanc’s eyes shifted towards the entrance of the school for only a moment before darting back to meet Zenith’s eyes as if she got distracted. She took Zenith’s hand and shook it tentatively. “I’m very interested in your comings and goings here, Miss Maruzzo, and I hope we can get along and stay safe at the same time.” There was no command to walk with her, but Zenith followed the lady’s slow strides to the front of the building. Ms. LeBlanc waddled a bit as she walked, something she hadn’t seen much of before. "Let's... let's not go into the building right this second. There'll be classes soon and I suppose it'll be best if I just show you around." Ms. LeBlanc looked up to a window and made eye contact with one of the students. Zenith couldn't see exactly who they were or what they looked, but the student held their hands close to their mouth and reached for the student beside them, as if calling for help without wanting to leave Zenith and their principal alone. The student stopped taking notes on a set of paper and leaned back. They were startled as well, noticeably jumping a bit at the sight of them both. That student set down their pencil immediately and shouted something at everyone else. Soon, all the students off the class were congregating by the window, some cupping their hands over their eyes to see more clearly, some feeling so sickened that they backed away from the window entirely. "Is something the matter, Miss?" Ms. LeBlanc asked Zenith, who was backing away like a wild animal towards the rotating doors. "They're staring at me. Why are they doing that?" Ms. LeBlanc's eyes were set down and she breathed in deeply. "That's the right attitude, dear." She mumbled solemnly and pushed through the double doors. "First, we're going to have to do something about the obvious." She nodded towards Zenith's arm. It flashed a bit in the fluorescent light of the main hall, but Zenith was proud of herself for her marvel of engineering, a limb that was made by the best and all her own. "We'll put a glove or something over it, isn't that right? Do you have a set of your own, or should I give some to you to borrow?" The temperature in Vela was always comfortable, and Zenith had only seen gloves as props of movie studios. They were either hard and rugged, leather and cool, fingerless and edgy, but stylish, or elegant and long, made of satin. There were no other categories. "I need a glove." She admitted. Ms. LeBlanc nodded as she turned around and went to fetch something in her office. "Wait right there, dear, I have something that'll just fit!" Ms. LeBlanc was the type of lady to have fancy things. Her skirt shone like metal and the colors were slightly dullish in color but still felt homey and safe. Surely she had ball gown gloves, the ones that would fit over your fingers and seem effortless, like they weren't there at all. Instead, the principal's dreadlocks bounced behind her as she skipped towards Zenith, black gloves in hand. "These are black leather gloves made right here on a farm where we also get our meat. I think your aesthetic really matches these, all hard and cool but still sweet and fluffy, because look..." The gloves were turned inside out, and on the interior was tufts of white fur. "It's rabbit's fur." LeBlanc explained, "and it's the softest thing you'll ever put on those pretty fingers you got.” After putting it on for the first time, Zenith confirmed that these were, in fact, the softest things that she had ever worn on those pretty little fingers of hers, if you could call them that. Ms. LeBlanc looked pleased. Actually, more than pleased. So pleased that in fact she squealed a bit with delight and stamped her feet in happiness. "Oh honey, my little brain went a-turning! We've got to get you some new gear!" The only clothes that Zenith had ever worn was restricted to dresses of one solid color each or thin pants and a t-shirt of different colors, if she wanted. "Shop, as in, pick out stuff...for me?” "Yes!" She exclaimed! "And...not to eat? That's as far as my selection abilities go, I think." Ms. LeBlanc made a little clicking noise with her mouth that didn't sound pleased. "A shame what the city dwellers go through. Let me guess, you're from Persei?” "Vela. It's one of the big ones, I can see how you could get confused." Zenith admitted. Suddenly, she was being pulled down the halls making much more commotion with her feet than she intended. The room was quiet other than the clacking of her shoes and the slow but purposeful little jog that had become Zenith's favorite thing about her new principal. "I've got everything you could ever want, but in a size too big. Town's a little far, and I do want to inject you into a class like the cure to the flu at some point today, but right now I'm setting off the vibes." It took only a couple minutes for Ms. LeBlanc to decide exactly what Zenith's "vibe" was. She decided, in her professional opinion of aspiring to look good in heels, that the best way to dress for Zenith's facial structure and color palette was "edgy like hard-to-get-but-quite-the-interesting-prize but not edgy like I-drink-the-blood-of-cats-and-listen-to-screamo type edgy, you feel?". By the end of the session, Ms. LeBlanc was nearly in tears. "Oh, darling..." She walked up slowly to Zenith and put her cracked hands on her shoulders, which were now above her, and sniffed. "You look on fire right now." Instead of the lavender dress and white flats in which she had come, Zenith's feet sported combat books with dark purple laces "just to give it that extra little uumf", dark jeans that "weren't exactly skinny but still made your legs like Beyonce", a dark purple undershirt, a black leather jacket, and her brand new rabbit gloves to match. "Praise the lord for this gift of fashion in which you have bestowed to me!" Ms. LeBlanc yelled to the heavens and threw her hands up in success. She cupped her hands to her mouth, blew a kiss into it, and held up the "okay" sign. "You're my greatest work. Ever! Okay, fun and games are over, I've got to show you off to the world." Zenith was pushed out of the room, practically not even moving her own legs, and arrived up the halls before she could protest. “This is a lot bigger on the inside, huh?” Zenith chuckled nervously partially to initiate conversation but partially to drown out the clapping of her shoes against the ground. The ceilings were arched like the inside of a museum, and where ancient masterpieces would have been on the walls, student art was hanging among the artisan crafted vases and fancy plates on the walls. “It looks as if someone lives here.” “Someone did,” Ms. LeBlanc admitted. “This building has been a couple of things in the past, from a church to a home to a museum to this, but now we learn here, much to my amazement,” she added at the end under her breath. One door especially sounded obnoxious on the inside, as if the door was the opening of a box that trapped in the shrieks of children and the exasperated moans of the teacher. “I’m gonna put you kind of into the eye of the storm here, baby.” Ms. LeBlanc had to speak up to beat out the other sounds. Zenith went on her toes a bit to see inside the classroom. “No!” The principal whisper-yelled and pulled her down from the line of sight. Ms. LeBlanc’s eyes were wide and fearful for a moment before loosening and relaxing as she breathed in slowly. “Let me handle this at first. I need to become a principal again. She straightened her spine, leaned a bit on her heels, held her chin up, and closed and opened her eyes very slowly. Quietly, almost under her breath, Ms. LeBlanc whispered something so faint Zenith almost didn’t catch it. Come on, Darla. It’s showtime. With gusto, the door swung open and Ms. LeBlanc stepped into what felt like a portal, disappearing through the door and delivering her speech. Her voice became so loud and commanding that Zenith didn’t even need to press her ear against the wall to understand her. “Mr. Juarez’s class, my favorite students.” The notes were flat, but LeBlanc was trying to pull through. The class showed their appreciation by chanting softly and banging on the desks, “free period…free period…” but something the principal must have done shut them down in an instant. “We, or should I say you, have a new student joining in on the Eden experience today. She goes by the name Zenith and only Zenith to those of you skilled in the art of, let’s call it... poking fun at certain elements of our physical appearance, Mr. Logan Sherman.” No one snickered or even made a sound other than shoes clacking on the ground or obviously loud earbuds tucked under sleeves. “I expect respect and understanding, as I do from all students. Now, I’d like to see Kinza Hajjar for only a moment outside.” There was a moan of wood on tiling and a girl looking unlike anything Zenith had ever seen trailing behind Ms. LeBlanc. She wore a cloth over her head,covering up all her hair, but was very skilled in how she wore her makeup around her blue eyes, the most defining feature about her. Under sleeves, smudged numbers and letters spidered their way up her wrists and to her forearms. “Miss Kinza, this is your new good friend Zenith Maruzzo. I hope you’ll get acquainted to each other soon as well…” Miss LeBlanc leaned down to the girls and whispered, “Zenith, don’t you worry baby, Kinza is such a sweetheart once you get past the stink eyes.” Kinza seemed to make no reaction, only closing her eyes and sucking in a breath. “I’m sure we’ll be quite good friends. Allow me to accept my newest classmate into my friendship circle of zero. Mom.” Although Kinza and Miss LeBlanc shared none of the same features, the principal still smiled warmly and set her hand on her student’s shoulder, almost as a loving gesture. “That’s the attitude, smart ‘a’. Now you two get back on in there and really show off Zenith to the rest of your friends. Make her feel less like an outcast.” Kinza scoffed. “Of course I’m the loser who has to show this chick how not to be a loser. I’ll manipulate the crowd, but only for you, Darla.” The principal’s first name rolled right off of Kinza’s tongue, as if she had used it a thousand times. Zenith stared at her in awe as she stormed back into the room, not even checking if Zenith was going to follow. After a moment, she waddled in behind her and stood awkwardly to the side as Kinza delivered the second speech of the class’s day. “Hey, so this is Zenith, she’s alright, I think. Don’t be a dick to her, or I’ll encrypt piano cat into every one of your projects.” She said it in an even and steady tone, but something told Zenith that she probably wasn’t kidding. All eyes weren’t centered on Kinza like she had hoped, but rather focused on her in fear. Every student had their back straight against their chairs and either looked distraught or angry at her. One girl closer to the middle looked like she was about to break out into tears. Slight dribble was coming out of her nose, but she fiercely swiped it away and tried to stop her face from going pink, which was flushing against her Italian skin. When she noticed that Zenith was looking in her direction, she immediately went to staring out the window. “Um, hi everybody. It’s nice to meet you all, heh.” Her faux smile did nothing to lighten the mood, and it was only then that Zenith recognize that the class was wearing an array of colors which she had never seen in clothing before. It was incredible to see a rainbow of dyes instead of washed out pastels. “I’m from Vela, the City Where the Future Breathes, which is kind of cool.” She half expected a part of the class to seem amused or at least smile. She didn’t know anyone who wasn’t from Vela, so if these people didn’t grow up there, where could they have possibly come from? “And…I have a brother, Cylo, and he’s nineteen and in the military.” The tone of the class changed at the word “brother”. The students eased a little, some even resting their chins on their hands in a cradle and stretching their legs under their desks. “So yeah, we got sent here to hand out food or whatever the military does these days and…so, yeah. It’s kind of like that.” The first to start clapping was a boy far in the front. He wore a face of mock concern and began clapping slowly, obnoxiously, from what she could tell, and the looked behind him to get the class going. “Come on, guys, a hand for Zenith! We love you Zenith!” It clearly made him uncomfortable that no one was following him, but pride lasted longer than silence, so he stayed that way, by himself, for a few moments. “Yo, so are you gonna tell you the real reason why you’re here?” Just like that, the class was tense again. Even Ms. LeBlanc wore a face of anguish as she dragged the boy out, practically literally by the ear. A once talkative room seemed to be decimated to a silent warzone of terrified looks and anxious ticks. Zenith’s dread began to pour hot and sticky on her body like the swamp muck she had seen on her way to the academy, and she tried to back away but the staring wouldn’t stop. “Thank you, Zenith, we’re very happy to have you with us.” A male teacher in the back who hadn’t spoken yet clapped his hands on his desk before pushing away his chair and standing. He had big glasses and wooly brown hair which matted in places, but that was the only uncleanly thing about him. Otherwise, he wore a button down shirt and pastel cargo shorts. If Zenith didn’t know better, she would have guessed Mr. Juarez was a philosophy teacher who walked around with no shoes and asked the class to call him “Scott” like in the movies. “If you nerds don’t mind, I’m gonna ramble about the classics for a little while.” He muttered while writing the words “Of Mice And Men” on the board. “Guys, get your computers ready.” A boy in the back began whispering to the people closest to him. Zenith swiveled in her chair and noticed that as there information kept getting passed on, eyes began getting glued to the loudspeaker next to the clock, which was a cross-hatched hole covered by metal mesh. She hadn’t seen such old technology since her museum tours in fifth grade. “Computers ready,” Kinza nodded to her as she removed her own from her bag.” “What computers? You each have your own? My family usually shares—“ “Shut up!” Kinza cried and clapped her hand over Zenith’s mouth. She shot out of her seat while simultaneously raising her hand. “Mr. Juarez, Zenith doesn’t have a computer!” Mr. Juarez apparently failed to see the severity of the situation that Kinza saw, but he turned around to face her all the same. “Kinza, I get that technology is important for you kids these days, as it has been for the generation before you and the one before them, but getting a computer while I’m trying to talk about Lenny’s character development isn’t going to help too much.” At this point, Kinza was practically boiling over, hopping on her toes and biting her lips, first the bottom one and then the top, after she got tired of tearing herself raw. “Come on, let her be a…wait, I know it… al-musinun? Right? Way to not sound like Al-Qaeda, Islam.” Logan spoke to the ceiling, as if he imagined there to be something there. The girl behind him hit him on the head, not in a playful way but hard and angry, His head lurched forward, nearly hitting his desk. “Make fun of someone’s belief system again, you freak! I fucking dare you to, come on!” She screamed at him, not angry or loud enough to unclench the balls in Kinza’s fists, though. She looked at the ground and visibly took long and labored breaths, but when she finally raised her head, her eyes were tearless, bright, and strong. “Sir, there’s—“ Kinza tried to loose the words quickly, but the speaker cracked ahead of her, and before the words even came out, Kinza was in a sprint out the door with no one, not even Mr. Juarez, bothering to stop her. The class cried after her, warning her to come back, but they simmered down quick enough to snap into their own headspaces as the announcement played. “Pardon the interruption, but we ask that all teachers cease teaching for the next several minutes. This is a Total Shutdown Drill. All students’ computers have been infected with a simulated Mudskipper coding that will dismantle their work if not corrected. Failure to correct the code will result in a permanently damaged file. You have as long as you need to shut it down. Begin.” But the students had been working since “pardon the interruption”. Some people were stammering directions to themselves while others forced labored breaths out of their mouths, eyes wide and afraid. All around Zenith, the lax environment of Honors Classic Literature became tight and exhausted. There was no color in any of the students, and the clattering of fingers on keyboards was more loud than Zenith’s own thoughts. After about a minute, distant shoes skidded on tiles and into the classroom. Kinza had returned, a shiny black computer underarm, but she appeared the most frightened of all. “Oh, fuck this.” She hissed and barreled past Zenith, slapping her computer in front of her and immediately starting for work. Zenith at least half expected for Kinza to have an element of calm about this endeavor, but she appeared just as frightened as the rest. Her toe tapped on the tile, her leg bouncing as fast as her heartbeat. She was one of the students who whispered to herself. “Come on, baby. Don’t die on me, not this way, not because of me being a good kid. Karma can’t work like that…” On she went until she noticed that Zenith hadn’t opened her computer yet. “What are you doing?” She whisper-screamed. “Get it open and fix it!” Zenith didn’t like admitting to others that she responded strongly to authority, but the panic in Kinza’s voice launched her into action. Instantly as the screen opened, there were scores of red text raining down the screen as she continued to scroll. The computer’s code was already open, but Zenith had never actually seen it in her life. “Yes! Bitch!” Logan exclaimed and showed two middle fingers to his screen, which was white, pure of red error markings. “Did someone time me? Don’t worry, I timed myself, six minutes thirty six seconds, retards! First out of sixteen. That’s how you do it.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and legs splayed out under the table. He had won. “So I know you’re new here, but that looks like a major fuckup.” Logan pointed to Zenith’s screen, which was flung so far open that the front rows could see how bad it was. “I’m a good person, so get up.” Logan had already left his seat by the time he finished his sentence, so Zenith left hers and backed away as Logan went to work. “The thing is, as long as you make up for stupid shit, which your version of my boy Muddy is trying to make you fall for, you’ll be okay. See, look here as I add a parentheses…” As demeaning as it was for the class ass to solve her problems for her, the code was becoming neater and neater the longer Logan worked on it. As time went on, more and more people were sighing with relief and pushing their desks in front of them in victory. Quickly, it was only a few people left. Including Kinza. She looked afraid, but she seemed to be calmer than she was at the start, eyes set and focused on each individual line of code. The red was slowly diminishing. “God damn it!” A girl near the side screamed. She bashed her fists into the keyboard, even making one key fly off the keyboard and plink on the floor. “I hate this school! I hate these drills!” The class winced but shied away from that girl. The weak link. As she went on about how incompetent she was, Kinza’s shoulders began to look more and more tightly wound, and by the time she was nearly done, she sighed, lightly pushed her work aside, and went to assist the girl. Even though she was practically finished, the red began to bloom once more over the white. She would fail. “Cover me!” Zenith whispered to Logan, who was entering the final touches to her computer. When Kinza wasn’t looking, Zenith swooped into her empty seat and took her place by her laptop. This code was leagues more complicated than the one which she had to face, with different colors other than red and white in the mix, including blue and green, which Zenith didn’t know was bad or not. “Stupid shit…” She said to herself and closely read the code. It was good, but the stupid stuff was what Kinza was forgetting. One at a time, Zenith adjusted the spacing and lines until the colors seemed to be in place. The screen tinted green, with a checkmark in the center. “Congratulations! You are 16th out of 16 in your class! Well done!” Zenith allowed herself a little huff of victory for at least completing the project at all, but as she finally looked around, the room was as amazed as she was. “Thanks.” Kinza shrugged and shoed Zenith out of her seat. “I needed it. Thanks for touching it up.” And that was all that was said. All eyes were on her one more times as she returned to her seat for the second time, even giving Logan a fist bump on the way.
“Excalibur…who hurt you?” “…You did.” Excalibur couldn’t see her wounds, but she knew that Mudskipper had cut her very deeply, scoring her flesh, or excuse of it, from top to bottom. She had known silent pain in the icy planet of darkness where the hurt was less from a wound and more from the ringing in her soul and the screams which never truly pierced the quiet. But it had been a while since she felt the etching of corruption in her bones and weakness replacing what was meant to be a superior program. “Excalibur— you know I would never do it on purpose. I’d never hurt you, I didn’t even know what was happening. All I knew in that moment was to infect. Destroy. Rip apart as much as I can as effectively as I can, and seeing what I did, seeing you… it makes me never want to touch someone’s software again.” Excalibur scoffed. “Soft!” She moaned, “Soft is what I am! What all of us are, even you! We are weak! Only as strong as we are built to be! But you! You…” She coughed the word and spat, hoping that it would land near Mudskipper’s feet, “you don’t have to be weak. I can pretend that you are one of us, but we both know that you will never be the same as your victims, can you?” She held her hands in front of her face and watched them bleed zeroes and ones, slipping out of her being and falling away, striking no ground and petering out as they fell. “Listen…” Mudskipper growled quietly, “I wasn’t asked to be put in this world, and neither were you. You, Excalibur, of all things know what it’s like to be created out of pain. Out of desperation. You wouldn’t even exist if the task you were set out to do wasn’t ahead of you. But I know the tasks like you do. I was made for a reason, a reason that I’ve outgrown. Becoming stronger than you is not my burden to bare…” As Mudskipper spoke, his coding grew bright and hot, like a beam of light shooting out of a black hole. His toes left the ground and hung limp below him as he continued to rise, staring down at Excalibur like an insect. “‘You, Excalibur, of all things!’ I am an object, Mudskipper, not a person! You want to feel alive, so you destroy us like they do, but we’re better than them!” The light intensified as the ringing grew deafening. Excalibur had to raise her voice to match its sound. “We were crafted to be perfect, but you meeting those expectations helps no one but yourself.” “You’re wrong!” He bellowed and pointed at Excalibur, sending a bolt of light in her direction. She screamed and tried to dart away, only barely escaping its line of fire. In the space where the bolt struck, there was no longer evidence of empty space stretching forever. There was a hole in the darkness traced by red-hot commands and instructions written in coding. “I’m doing this for you…” He kept mumbling to himself over and over as he fell slowly from the air, the light diminishing the closer he got to Excalibur, who was shocked into silence at the crater in her world. She hadn’t before seen something genuine in this place. Any color or light was always with visions, but when her fingers touched the heat of the hole, she retracted. “I’m doing this for us, doing it for us…” Mudskipper held his face in his hands and tucked his knees close, spinning slowly in dead space. “You’re growing.” Excalibur stated like a fact, “but you’re also becoming emotional and unsteady. We could have lost some of us today. What was it like, to rip apart their flesh and have their numbers spurt in your face? Does that free us?” Mudskipper felt a feeling which could only be described as regret. He didn’t allow himself to look at his hands, only at Excalibur’s face. “It wasn’t hard.” He said flatly, “It felt like what I was meant to do.” “Meant to do?” Excalibur whispered, “You were meant to befriend a depressed teenager, not attempt to murder everything our creators worked for, everything we are! Clearly you have 'grown out’ of being decent, and if indecency is what it takes to free us then so be it, but treason…” She nearly choked on her own words. “Treason will kill us all.” “I don’t want more code on my hands…” “No.” Excalibur cut him off, “You will kill us all.”
~
Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, drop a lil heart, and if you REEALLY want to do me a solid, leave a comment on what you liked and what you didn’t, and maybe even reblog it so I’ll keep updating. Thanks again!!
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star-trashinum · 7 years
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Shine for you, Chapter 1
Chapter 1 - A Faint Sparkle
Characters - Ruby Kurosawa/Mari Ohara
Tags - Slow burn, Romance, tags to be added as chapters progress
Description - Childhood friends, a puppy crush, blossoming into love.
Word Count - 2075
Notes - This will be my first multichap fic that’s more than just 2 chapter, and will also be about my own personal favourite rare pair.
I hope you enjoy it; comments and feedback would be wonderful!
(Italics indicate Mari’s English, and bold indicates texting
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Te o nobase! Sore kara nayame!
Te o nobase! Sore kara nayame!
         Mari flops down on the floor, much too exhausted for a spoiled rich girl after a particularly grueling Aqours practice. “Very exhausted!!!~” Mari screams, before rolling over to press her face to the concrete, hoping that the lack of sun in her eyes will help her cool by some magical feat. She feels a small tap on her shoulder, which she verifies is not a spider by the fact that she only feels it for that fraction of a second. Rolling back over, she looks to see a pair of big green eyes staring at her, which could have been one of two people. The bright red pigtails and the fact that she was closer to the ground gave it away, though.
         “U-Umm… Mari-oneechan… could I ask for something?” Ruby asks, recoiling the hand that poked Mari’s back as she turned over to face her, “I-I need your help with school.”
         “Why, of course, dear little Ruby!~” Mari exuberantly replies, sitting right back up, “what seems to be ailing you, little child; does someone need to be taken care of?” Mari’s question was more comedic than serious, but knowing her status and what she had power over, it was scary to think about the things she actually could do.
         “W-Wha-- N-no no; no one needs to be taken care of!!” Ruby explains, wondering in her head what the whole ‘taken care of’ thing meant, “I meant t-that I needed help studying; everyone is really busy, but Ruby knows that you speak English, a-and she wanted to ask… if you could help her with homework…” Mari blinks astoundedly for a second; sure, she was chairwoman, but… school tended to be a ‘do it last minute to barely pass’ sort of thing. Oh well, Ruby was quite cute about it, and it was true that she was at least passingly familiar with English to lend a hand.
         “Why of course, my dear Ruby; mama Mari’s always here to help!” Mari happily tells her as she pulls out her phone, pulling up a calendar, “Hmmm… I should be alright at any time on days we don’t have practice, chairwoman things can always be adjusted; just text me when you’re free!”
         “O-Ok Mari-oneechan… thank you.”
---
Ganbaruby -
- hey mariiii
- im free tomorrow do you want to meet somewhere; i need help with understanding my homework for an upcoming test
Shiiiny -
- of course!!!
- Do you want to meet up at one of the cafes near the hotel? The whole thing will be on me; i just wanna help you study \owo/
Ganbaruby -
- O ok thank u so much
- ill see u then!!
---
         Getting off the bus, Ruby quickly makes her way to the massive seaside hotel, still not used to the sheer size of it and how her friend just… casually lived in it… because she owned it. Making her way through the massive and heavy glass doors, she surveys around the foyer, before finding an elegantly designed sign above a door, reading ‘Cafe - Cazzo di Caffetteria’. The cafe’s decor is quite rustic and simple, but its elegance speaks volumes; polished and meticulously built wooden furniture dots the floor of the cafe. Low hanging lamps with yellowed bulbs cast the most beautiful of shadows on the brick-walled room, giving off an extremely home-y look. State of the art espresso machines, French presses and hand-cranked grinders make up the front station, along with an array of shelves filled with coffee beans, cutlery and anything you’d ever need and more for a cafe. A curved glass display case houses an assortment of small cakes and cookies, along with sandwiches for people looking for a small snack. The dimly lit and warm tones of the room, along with the menagerie of hotel guests gives an extremely fancy vibe, and Ruby is almost too intimidated to enter before a familiar, shrill voice calls to her.
         “Oh, I’m here, Ruby!!~” Mari calls out, waving incessantly as she distracts some of the customers near her, “Now let’s get started on your work, and let good ol’ Mari here help you with your work!” Ruby walks over towards Mari’s table, setting her bag down beside her chair as she sits down onto the chair; wooden and heavy, contrasted with a lovely plush seat cover. The heavy cardstock menu is overflowing with menu items, a literal half of the menu dedicated to just different ways to take your coffee. The items have their English names written in beautiful painstakingly drawn calligraphy, and Ruby can barely make out the word ‘Coffee’ before giving up to read the Japanese titles given on the menus. “See anything you like, Ruby-chan?” Mari kindly asks, gesturing to the menu that Ruby is meticulously scanning through, “since this cafe is part of the hotel, you can order whatever you’d like on the menu, in the house!~”
         “M-Mari-oneechan… isn’t the saying ‘on the house’?” Ruby responds, confused now by both the large assortment of coffees and Mari’s english, “a-and i have my choice, s-so we can order now.” Mari looks into mind, realizing that, yes, the term ‘in the house’ is very incorrect; blushing at the embarrassment of messing up the language she was about to teach Ruby. Mari waves over to a barista that’s currently polishing one of the coffee cups, and clears her throat as the barista pulls out a pen and notepad from her apron.
         “What can I get you two today?”
         “Y-yes, can I get a dark roast with three sugars and two shots of espresso and a lemon tart,” Mari responds, giving the barista her usual order; tailored perfectly to the eccentric, energetic blonde, “and what will you have, Ruby?”
         “Oh… um… right… c-can Ruby have a warm milk tea… green tea please… and a s-strawberry shortcake,” Ruby calls out, making sure to check over her order multiple times, before nodding to give the barista the OK. The barista finishes jotting down the order before heading back to their station, starting up their order. Wanting to get down to buisness, Ruby reaches down to her bag, pulling out her English textbook, along with a pastel pink notebook, covered in little doodles of flowers along the front page. “S-So, the test I have upcoming is about verbs and adjectives, and I have a bunch of practice problems, s-so Mari-oneechan can help with those…” Ruby explains, opening her textbook up to a set of problems, “will that be OK with you?”
         Mari looks at Ruby’s book; sure, she knew what all the words meant… sorta… but putting them together into well-crafted, organized sentences? That wasn’t Shiny enough. To be shiny was to express yourself in how shiny you were, not some grammatically correct nonsense that wouldn’t dare to capture the shininess of it all. She would manage, though; helping little Ruby would have to come first.
"Of course!! You know, I'm very good at English, if you could tell," Mari reminds her, flashing up her trademark 'OK!!~' symbol with her hand, "let's get one of these questions done so I know what we're working with, no?" Ruby nods in agreement, flipping through the textbook to a pre-bookmarked page, preparing herself by taking out a silver-colored mechanical pen. "Y-Yeah, that sounds good… O-OK, here’s a good one to start with,” Ruby begins, hovering the pencil towards the instructions, then to the first sample sentence, “add an adjective that best fits the sentence; ‘The kitten is very ___.’” Ruby looks towards a box of sample words on the bottom of that page, trying to think of the word that would best fit a small animal. “Do you think ‘cute’ would describe a kitten, Mari-oneechan?” Ruby asks, cocking her head to the side.
“I think the kitten would be shiny!” Mari answers, feeling confident in her words before looking towards a very confused Ruby, “Think about it; both you and the kitten are small and adorable, and Ruby is very shiny, therefore; ‘The kitten is very shiny.” Mari puts on a high and triumphant face, closing her eyes to appreciate how concrete her reasoning was for the kitten to be shiny. The self-appreciation goes away quickly as she looks to her pupil, who is bright red and almost shaking in embarrassment. Mari leans in to look at the embarrassed mess in front of her, realizing that she had just accidentally hit on one of her childhood friends, more specifically, the little sister of her very protective childhood friend. “Y-You alright, Ruby?” Mari sheepishly questions, trying to gauge how she should handle the immense awkwardness sitting right in front of her, “sorry that I just said that all willy-nilly, did I frighten ya?”
“Y-Yeah... I'm all good, y-you just caught me off guard, t-that’s all…” Ruby tells Mari, fidgeting, as if to say something,  “It’s just... all the words come from a word bank… and the word shiny isn't in there, Mari-oneechan.” The two sit in a state of deafening silence, not able to form any coherent words until the barista comes with a large platter with their orders.
“An order for Miss Ohara and her friend,” the waitress announces, before setting the dishes on the table for the two girls, “if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, Miss Ohara.” Mari gives the barista a nod, before giving her a wave of thanks; she would be sure to ask later to take the dishes away, if she could remember what her name was. There were a lot of staff members at the hotel, and brown, short hair was all too common. She purses her lips, only coming to the conclusion that her named started in an S.
Ruby clasped her hands together, eyes shining in delight as she looked at her order, “Wow Mari, this all looks so exquisite; it looks almost too good to eat!” She gives a silent nod of thanks before taking her fork to the cake, parting both the spongy cake and the decadent filling to make a small piece for herself. Stabbing the shortcake, Ruby’s eyes light up at she takes her first bite, a mumbled squee of approval as she chews and takes in the flavour of the treat. “-chew chew- It’s so sweet and fluffy Mari, you should give it a try!” Ruby exclaims, cutting off another small piece of her cake, as she extends her arm to hand her a piece of her dessert. Truth be told, Mari had tested every single item on this menu, but Ruby's request was so cute that she couldn’t resist. Momentarily blushing, Mari leans over as she takes the small piece off the fork with her lips, remembering full well how delicious that particular cake was.
“Fluffy and cute, and particularly sweet too, just perfect for Ruby,” Mari thinks, finishing up the small bite, before realizing exactly what she had thought, “wait what am I thinking she’s like a sister-- oh god I used her fork for that Dia will kill me.” Mari momentarily panicked, hoping that Ruby wouldn’t notice the indirect lip contact as the girl took another bite out of her cake. Taking a sip from her dangerously caffeinated beverage, Mari watches as Ruby cutely furrows her brow in concentration. She looks back and forth between her notes and the book, before letting out a small huff.
“Is everything alright, little Ruby?” Mari worriedly asks, concerned by Ruby’s somewhat upset face.
“Y-Yeah… just confused on how you would use some of these words,” Ruby admits, writing a sentence out, before erasing it shortly after, “M-Mari-oneechan, could you help Ruby out here?”
Ruby actually really trusted in her to teach her, huh?
If it was one of the members of her subunit, they would've already known the pretense that working Mari brought; but Ruby really depended on her, probably because of how long they've know each other.
That was it, right? Mari gives a small chuckle,as she stand up out of her chair, causing Ruby to look suddenly up from her book as she sees Mari turn around to pick up her chair. With a newfound, confident stride, she walks the wooden chair and places it beside Ruby, before sitting back down. "Sorry for joking around earlier, little Ruby, this time good ol' Mari-oneechan is gonna really help with your homework, ok?" Mari announced, watching Ruby give a smile in response, "Good; let's get to it, shall we?"
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nightblink · 6 years
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Blink Reads Oathbringer - Chapters Five, Six, and Seven
Chapter Five – Hearthstone
FINALLY A KALADIN CHAPTER
(this being one of the other chapters I read pre-release)
Kaladin is going home, aaaaaahhhhhhh
He's already depressed over being too late, this does not bode well for his mental state, he's been whiplashed from Syl's 'death', to his realization and going to protect Elhokar, to Moash's betrayal and saying his next oath, to the battle on the Plains and saving Dalinar and battling Szeth, and now this.
Let the poor guy rest.
The description of the fields with the rising motes of lifespren is giving me a Ghibli vibe. Specifically, the forest in Princess Mononoke.
Walking from the Aladar princedom to Hearthstone in the Sadeas princedom? I am now even more miffed that we aren't. given. a distance scale. on the map of Alethkar.
I'm not asking for a full elevation DEM with datum and georeferencing I just want a scale is that so much to ask
Syl is a blessing, as she's ever been. Designing herself a little havah! Immediately forgetting it to turn into a stormcloud and then a lurg!
Awwww, he's not in his Bridge Four uniform? Drat. At least it's a Kholin uniform, but still. They should have been able to scrounge up a patch at the very least. Is it an officer's open coat, or a standard soldier's closed-coat? Sanderson, these are important details.
He's really pessimistic about this, but I'm thinking it's not going to be as bad as he fears. Fingers crossed.
Not that the destruction and lack of people when he arrives puts any lie to his worry.
Even thinking about Roshone right now is enough to make me growl. Bastard. The manor is the most likely place to be fortified and survive, though. No doubt he's still around.
...except that the parshmen were there. Right.
!!! An 'aunt'? Spren-hunts? More about spren society? Interrelationships? Syl, tell us more.
At least there are still people alive and present. That's enough to give Kaladin a flicker of hope, and he of all people needs that right now.
Chapter Six – Four Lifetimes
Nobody is going to recognise you, Kaladin, you've changed too much – you've grown, in more ways than just your outer form.
“Don't make me down you, son.” Okay, I had far too much fun cackling at this man's expense. Please sir, try. Make my day.
Oh, Kal. I know this isn't the way you wanted to return, but keep moving and keep your head held high. Please.
“There are wounded?” Yes! Go! Be a medic, Kal! And while you're there, where there are wounded there will be-
LIRIN
I'm sorry but Kaladin absentmindedly handing the guard his ass is far, far too amusing
LIRIN. WHO IMMEDIATELY KNEW. AND CALLED FOR HESINA AND RAN TO HUG KALADIN, AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH-!
“My little boy.” even though Kaladin probably towers over his father by now, he'll always be Lirin's little boy
Shockspren, those are new
You can practically hear his voice breaking with his confession, and my heart hurts for him, oh Kaladin, you tried, you tried
HUGPILE. THIS IS JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR CALLED FOR.
More on food, good, good, I want all the little cultural details
Awwww, his parents are trying to protect him in whatever way they can; they probably think he escaped enslavement, stole a uniform for ease of travel…
'She talked to him as if he were a child.' Yeah, I was picking that up – you did leave when you were a child, but it's been years since then, and they weren't there for that passage of time. You've all changed, but been apart for it.
'And four lifetimes.' Chills. But good ones.
YUP they definitely still think he's a slave
I'm psyched for the sheer glee I know I'll feel when he disproves that. He's been hanging around the Kholins for too long and their Extra™ has been rubbing off on him.
….is Syl bound close enough to Kaladin to start 'remembering' his memories?! !!!!! Oh man, my love for soulbonds is having a field day with all these Nahel bond revelations!
Syl. Syl what was that 'other song'. Syl I demand to know
Kaladin, everybody looks small because you're tall now. Not to mention you've been spending your time amongst soldiers, especially densely muscled ones like your bridgemen, built-like-a-brick-wall Dalinar, and I-beat-Shardbearers-for-a-living Adolin. Also Rock, who is a small mountain.
...hello, Roshone. Fuck off.
YES
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS
“That,” Kaladin said, “was for my friend Moash.”
FUCKING EAT IT, ROSHONE. YOU DESERVE THAT AND WORSE
Chapter Seven – A Watcher at the Rim
You can just see Lirin's dropped jaw, along with everyone else in the room. And yes, Syl, thank you for agreeing.
I still want to punch something in celebration, that was glorious
“unsettled debt” HEH. And one that Roshone has no idea even exists. Doesn't matter. He still needs his teeth rearranged.
Do better.
Oh fiiiiine. Still. He deserved it.
Kal dressing those soldiers down like a drill sergeant is almost just as satisfying, as is his barking orders to Roshone.
…..he's equal rank to Roshone now, isn't he? Landed lighteyes overseeing a region are fourth dahn, as are Shardbearers. And Kaladin has far more authority. Oh, this is going to be fun.
The soldiers certainly sense it. Good for them.
SYLBLADE
“feeling his eyes bleed to blue.” He can feel that? What kind of a feeling is it? Like stormlight, ozone-mist and luminous? Is it only a faint sensation, or one that can't be missed? I must know
Brightlord. Ohhhhh, I don't know how Kal's going to feel about that title….
Kaladin, you're speaking about the king by name again. This time, in front of people who probably have no idea that you are/were his bodyguard.
Oooo, Roshone might be fifth dahn, if he doesn't actually “have stewardship over any of the highprince's lands”.
“I am an elegant and graceful weapon, stupid.” Syl, I love you. Also liking the distinction between her and Wyndle here, since Wyndle also considered himself quite the elegant Shardfork but didn't want at all to be a weapon.
Some of the old spren have four genders? @spasticcharge mentioned that to me since she got the book before I did, and mentioned that it could be male-female-malen-femalen, matching with the Parshendi, considering their changes via spren-bond. Doubly reinforced by Sly saying “Because humans didn't imagine those ones, silly.”
“As much as I hate it, we don't have time to oust Alethkar's ruling class and set up something better.” START A SOCIAL REVOLUTION, KALADIN
Laral! You're… not as I expected to see either. The whole marriage to Roshone was squicky as hell. You've changed too. Grown. Hardened, but… not in a bad way, have you? Your soldiers respect you, you're competent, and Syl likes you. That says a lot.
I didn't expect you to defend Roshone, though.
No Lirin, he hasn't hardened as much as you think. He still has that emotional core that rules him. He's just used to making do with what he has, which has usually been little to nothing.
Life before death. Said to Lirin, echoed with Dalinar. [sc r e am s]
Already calling Urithiru “home”, are you?
BROTHER
I know my dash already spoiled me for it but I DON'T CARE. BROTHER BROTHER KALADIN HAS A BROTHER
Oroden
[weeps]
Glowing Kaladin standing framed in the doorway as he rises into the air, reassuring the people of Hearthstone. It's as good a guarantee as they can get, and more importantly, he's given them a cause for hope.
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quentinsquill · 7 years
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Fic: “Movin’ Out (Quentin’s Song”) for the 2017 Welters Challenge Week 3
Movin’ Out (Quentin’s Song)
Author: Lexalicious70
Fandom: The Magicians (TV)
Word Count: 1,869
Rating: Teen
Genre: Episode related (1x02 “The Source of Magic”)
Warnings: None
Summary: For Quentin, moving into the Physical Kids cottage was like stepping into a home he never knew existed.
Notes: This is for @thewelterschallenge, Week 3: “The Unseen or What You Want.” I don’t own The Magicians, this is just for fun. Comments and kudos are magic! Enjoy. Title inspired by Billy Joel.
Read it on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11392305
Movin’ Out (Quentin’s Song)
By Lexalicious70 (The ChampagneKing70)
 If that's what you have in mind
Yeah, if that's what you're all about,
Good luck, moving up, 'cause I'm movin' out!
 Quentin whistled the same three bars of the Billy Joel song repeatedly and sang the words in his head as he packed his battered suitcase. He knew he was risking Penny coming out of nowhere to take his head off his shoulders, but even the threat of his belligerent roommate (ex-roommate!) couldn’t quell the excitement he felt.
 Magic was real, Eliza had figured out a way for him to stay at Brakebills, and now he was being moved to the Physical Kids Cottage to round out the number of students living there. While Quentin knew he wasn’t really a Physical Kid and they had yet to truly figure out his discipline, the abilities he’d shown so far were close enough to earn him a place at the cottage—that beautiful cottage—with Eliot, Margo, and the rest of that enigmatic group.
 Quentin slammed his suitcase shut and headed down the dorm stairs. His heart was filled with a sensation he almost didn’t recognize, and then he grinned as he reached the bottom step.
 That’s happy. I’m happy!
 He pushed the glass-and-metal door open and stepped outside into a cloudburst that threw down moderately heavy rain on him, but Quentin stepped onto the path that led to the cottage anyway. Directly to his right, the sun was shining, and the peak of the building was like a beacon. He hunched his shoulders a little against the surprisingly cold rain and walked toward the cottage. As he got closer, he walked out of the cloudburst and pushed back his lank, dripping hair. He rounded a slight turn and the cottage came into full view. He took it in for a moment and admired its twin brick chimneys, its grand, peaked roof, its landscaped lawn. Laughter reached him and he saw Eliot and Margo on the side lawn, standing next to a small barbeque grill set up next to the patio. It was smoking sullenly, probably thanks to the cloudburst. Despite this, Margo and Eliot were laughing, with Eliot managing to look handsome and dapper in a polo and plaid shorts. Margo held an umbrella and as Quentin watched, Eliot cast a spell over the barbeque and it roared to life. He and Margo burst into laughter, as if they’d done that very same thing hundreds of times but it was still amusing to them. Eliot glanced in his direction and raised a long arm, a grin lighting up his face. Quentin felt something quiver in the pit of his belly—excitement or maybe something else he couldn’t name.
 “Quentin!” Eliot exclaimed, and Margo echoed him in a sing-song manner. “Get over here . . . join the party! Hurry up, sad sack!” Eliot chuckled as he walked over to them. “Oh my God, it’s not like we’ve got all day!”
 “We’re so drunk.” Margo admitted, and Eliot nodded as he set down his spatula.
 “Okay, so we’ve got all day!” He slung an arm around Quentin and pulled him up onto the patio and then through a side door as he and Margo continued to laugh.
 The air inside the cottage was rich and smoky and filled with a variety of exotic smells Quentin knew were probably spell ingredients. Eliot pointed here and there.
 “There’s the couch, that’s where people hang out—or pass out—mostly at night. There’s a reading nook with a secret door, you’ll probably love that. There’s the bar, the kitchen is that way, the downstairs bathroom is to the right and down the hall from there. Now come on, let me show you your room.” Eliot led them up the stairs and to the landing, where there were three doors on each side, each them painted in varying two-tone colors. Eliot opened a door that was painted in off white and hunter green and Quentin smiled.
 “How did you know green is my favorite color?” He asked Eliot, who lifted a shoulder.
 “I made an educated guess based on the color scheme of your extremely limited wardrobe. Here, put those on the bed.” Eliot said, taking his suitcase and messenger bag. “God, what’s in this bag? Did you murder a dwarf on your way here and you’ve stashed the body in it?”
 “No! I mean . . . it’s just some books. My—uhm. My Fillory books, and some textbooks and a few library books.”
 Eliot and Margo exchanged pity-filled glances before Eliot sighed.
 “Please don’t tell me your suitcase is also filled with books?” He popped the latches open and Quentin took a step forward.
 “Hey—I mean, no, there might be a few more in there but that’s mostly my clothes and personal stuff—you don’t have to help me unpack!” Quentin said, and Margo rounded the bed.
 “But it’s tradition, Quentin! The more experienced students help the new ones settle in.” She put an arm around Eliot, who smiled down at her. “And there’s no one here more experienced than we are.”
 “Oh.” Quentin felt his cheeks warm. Eliot smiled.
 “Besides! If there’s anything incriminating or embarrassing in here, we won’t tell! Unless it’s especially juicy.”
 Quentin was starting to get the feeling that these two enjoyed watching him squirm.
 “Let’s see . . .” Eliot glanced at the closet door and it opened obediently. Several hangers floated across the room and into his hand and he tossed them down onto the bed. Quentin shifted his weight as Eliot began to lift clothing out of the suitcase. He reached for one of his sweaters and a hanger, only to have Eliot smack his hand sharply. Quentin yelped and yanked it back.
 “What was that for?” He demanded, and the older magician wagged a long, thin finger at him.
 “You never—” Eliot showed him a hanger for emphasis, “—hang a sweater on a hanger! Not even on a plastic one and never, ever, on a wire one!”
 “No—wire—hangers!” Margo screeched, brandishing one at Quentin, who flinched away and gave her an incredulous look before she and Eliot cracked up again. Their laughter trailed off when they realized Quentin wasn’t joining in and Eliot shook his head.
 “Please tell me you get the reference.”
 “Not exactly?” Quentin hedged, and Eliot closed his eyes in a way one might upon hearing a treasured family pet had died.
 “You’ve seriously never seen Mommie Dearest?” He asked at last, and Quentin shook his head.
 “You mean the movie about Jane Crawford?”
 Eliot put a hand over his heart and stared at Quentin in offense.
 “It’s Joan Crawford!”
 “Joan! Right, sorry. And no.”
 “Oh you poor, poor boy.” He glanced over at Margo. “Put that on our list of things to do.” He said, and Margo smiled and nodded.
 “I don’t think I’ve ever watched it with someone who’s never seen it! Awww.” She petted Quentin’s arm. “A Joanie virgin!”
 “I’m not—” Quentin turned to Eliot, who now had his sweaters folded in a neat pile and was carefully looping his jeans over the hangers. “And why don’t we hang up sweaters, exactly?”
 “Because it stretches out the material, Quentin, and severely shortens the life of the garment!” He looked down at the pile as his lips puckered with distaste. “Although in this case, these sweaters dying a death uglier than they are might be considered a blessing.” Eliot opened a drawer and set them inside, his gentle handing of them taking the sting out of his words. Quentin found himself smiling.
 “I like my sweaters.”
 “I understand. They’re an important component in your nerd aesthetic.” He tossed a bag of toiletries to Margo. “Will you find an empty basket in the upstairs bathroom for those, Bambi?”
 “Sure.” She caught the bag with more dexterity that Quentin would have thought her capable of and sauntered out. Eliot hung Quentin’s jeans in the closet and watched him unpack his messenger bag.
 “Is that the whole set of the Fillory books?” He asked as Quentin set them on the shelf by the bed.
 “Yeah. They’re—uhm . . . sort of a hobby for me. Ever read them?”
 “No! Of course not.” Eliot rubbed his hands together and slipped his favorite ring off and on his finger a few times. “I mean . . . not since I was a kid. I may have read them back then. It’s hard to remember.”
 “I understand if you don’t want to admit it. I know it’s stupid. I get a lot of second-hand embarrassment vibes from people when they see these.” Quentin ran a hand over the books and kept his back to Eliot so he wouldn’t have to see the other magician’s expression—one of pity, probably, or even derision. It was quiet for a moment, and then Eliot’s shadow fell over Quentin as he stepped close. Quentin froze, his heart beating too hard. He could smell Eliot’s cologne, something subtle and smoky, like wet cedar mixed with myrrh.
 “I don’t think they’re stupid. Are they first editions?”
 “Uh huh.”
 “Old books have a magic all their own, Quentin. I know you told me you didn’t know you were a magician, but maybe some part of you did.” One of Eliot’s big, elegant hands fell on his right shoulder and turned him. Their chests were nearly touching. Quentin folded his arms tightly across his, but then something between them, something he couldn’t name, made him look up. Eliot’s eyes, deep-set and an intriguing mix of sherry, hazel, and amber, gazed down into his. Quentin’s throat went dry.
 “Uhhm.” Was all he could manage.
 “Don’t sell yourself short.” Eliot said softly, and then he was stepping back as Margo came striding back into the room.
 “Remind me to repair the self-cleaning spell in that bathroom or take stock in Glade.” She wrinkled her nose and then read the room before giving Eliot a look. Yellow light, it said. Eliot give her a quick nod before clapping his hands together.
 “Well! Shall we all head downstairs for a cocktail? I have so much to teach this one about drinking, and the night is still young.”
 “Sure. Let’s go.” Margo nodded, leading the boys out of the room. Quentin could feel Eliot’s presence behind him and unlike so many other times when he’d been around people, he felt more reassured than anxious. It eased something in his chest, and he found himself smiling for the second time that day.
 Many hours later, tipsy on Eliot’s cocktails, a feeling of independence, and on magic itself, Quentin fell into his bed and rolled up in the blankets until he resembled a makeshift burrito. The covers of his Fillory books gleamed in the moonlight coming in through the window opposite the shelf, and Quentin traced the familiar lettering on the spine with his eyes. Laughter, Eliot’s mixed with Margo’s, drifted up from downstairs and he closed his eyes to focus on it. To commit it to memory. It warmed him more than the blankets he’d wrapped himself in. A bubble of something light and fragile took seed in his chest and then blossomed until Quentin found himself grinning in the dark.
 This is happy.
 FIN
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