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#so none of my thoughts about the cast are quite fully formed yet
cak31ssuperi04 · 1 year
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Do you have any general hcs of the 1bit/1beat cast? Anythings fine
Kind of rough but
-I've played around with the idea with Eruno being from an orphanage/foster home(the "because you've got a proper family" bit) but I go back and forth on this one.
-Nio and Sakuma are friends! He does shifts at Bitwave they hang out there. The poor boy needs someone to fend off the fangirls.
-Eruno and Akitaka accompany Haruya on deliveries sometimes. Pals.
-When Aira's mimetic muscles get installed she doesn't really quite get how to use them immediately. Her expressions start out real stiff(which she expresses dissatisfaction with, and gets help from the others) to real exaggerated and overplayed(think unbridled rage or pained anguish at things that just kind of annoy her).
-Also she has Kiri make her taller so she can grow alongside her friends!
-Also Also by 1beat she has at LEAST one sibling who's just, a really muscled out doll in frilly clothes.
-Meru listens to death metal. She'd hoped it'd help her stay up better but now she just kind of likes it.
-Outside of tending to the shrine, Hakuhi has embroidery as a hobby.
-Izuchi took piano lessons when he was younger(parents made him do it to try and play up the prodigy genius image). He quit.
-That potion thing he made in 1beat was ripped from Kirai's anime but in part he'd made it after Eruno came to him Demanding a way to make her dog live longer.
-He went to Blue sun college(less because he thought he needed to and more for the benefits a degree there would give him) and got into an apprenticeship with Kiri. He keeps the lab when Kiri moves to Coco Alley(easier to skirt by the law). Familiar with the Blue Sun Trio to some extent.
-He has a sweet tooth but doesn't really admit it because he deems it unhealthy.
-While he did have a hand in the creation of the master program, he doesn't stay on the team after it's finished. Does continue to get occasional updates about it from Hiyu and Nanase though.
-His room is all clean and organized on the surface(maybe a few seashell displays, a poster covering a hole in the wall) but he keeps all the goofy weird shit stored away in drawers and under his bed.*
-I've played around with the idea of there being a 3rd Nasuga sibling who's just too young to be relevant in the game(<-no canon basis i just thought it'd be fun) but I'm not sure if I'd keep that.
-Enri has a pet hamster! He's like the band's son.
-The gang Kirara used to be a part of was like a sparkly gyaru girl gang. She never really enjoyed fighting but took a lot of lessons growing up so she was really good at it. The gang is still going strong though and at least a few of her Gyaru Friends are members(and there's at least one member who's just a plain normal ass girl that hangs around them but that's getting into oc territory).
-Rocca ends up growing up to be like Really Fucking Tall. Momori models clothes on her and remarks that she could be a model if she didn't trip over herself so much(not that she'd want to be one anyways).
-Mary has 3 siblings, they've done a way better job at staying out of the public eye(and have grown somewhat distant from her as a result).
-On account of being friends with a lot of the townspeople and having a lot of relatives, Hitohito is just one of those guys with a lot of connections. In a "guy who knows a guy" way.
-Chino is Coco Alley's mom jkasdsa.
--She brings Sora(was familiar with his family and doesn't want him to get too lonely) cookies and flowers sometimes and while he's dismissive about it he does secretly appreciate it.
-Tobari is the heiress to a big tea emporium who dipped because she got bored and/or got into a disagreement with someone over there, but continues playing up her Elegant Fancy Lady image despite living paycheck to paycheck(which I mean, good for her I guess.)
-Although Sagara knows Asuto through Hitohito, they actually interact fairly regularly in anime forums.
-Hitohito, Izuchi, and Sagara were on friendly terms when they were kids but grew distant for reasons. Hitohito and Sagara had gotten back in touch and still hang out. Heat reached out to Izuchi but was promptly brushed off, still looks out for him. Izuchi and Sagara have a weird frenemy/rival thing going on.
-Sagara has no siblings she just kind of lives alone with her mom who may or may not hate her.(although it's less "hate" so much as disappointment)
-Sagara's chicken avatar is modeled after one of her childhood pets.
-Sagara definitely Naruto runs.
-She holds DnD(\Dnd adjacent. Just some ttrpg I'm not an expert) sessions at every couple of weeks. I'm not saying Izuchi willingly participates(those commoners are hopeless without his guidance), just that she didn't exactly have very many other people to invite(Hitohito and sometimes Meu and eventually Nanashi).
-She has a knack for trying to help townspeople as part of some sort of Magical Girl Code but isn't as good at it as she thinks she is.
-She has a compartment in her arm warmers that's full of bird feed, she's made an alliance with the pigeons.
-While she does cool it with the Organization stuff, she never drops the chuuni behavior. Eventually opens a small cake shop with some edgy chuuni-esque title(debated on whether it should be in the same place Little Berry was, like after little berry closes its doors).
-Nomiya and Hiyu butt heads a lot but they both get along fine with Azusa. Somebody needs to be nice to her god damn it.
-The Kujohs have a pet dog but it's actually Azusa's. Following with the rest of the family, it's a big intimidating dog that's actually just really chill. Enri has tried to look past it but he's always very leery about visiting them.
-Nomiya's riding an adrenaline high throughout most of the game but his more calm demeanor in his events is just him going in the opposite extreme as a result of coming down from it. He's usually fairly loud and confrontational, just not THAT loud and confrontational.
-He keeps in closest touch with Tobari after the hackers are disbanded. Somewhat on account of her being able to hold her own in Break Passage the best out of the other three. She views him as a weird little brother.
-The hackers hold gatherings in memory(or what little of that memory they even retained. It's mostly secondhand from Nanashi) of Mikado where they commit minor crimes. The gathering was Kotora's idea the crime was Nomiya's.
-Sagara has a journal that she calls the Abyss Tome that's just full of fanfiction and anime drawings of herself and her friends(/enemies). Has a bunch of spell names listed down in it.
-Saaya and Meu are friends! Saaya comes to her for divinations about her love life a lot and just ends up venting. Meu's happy to listen though and tries to comfort her the best she can.
-Speaking of therapy though, Saaya does get therapy sometime post-canon and distances herself from Nanase(while a lot of Nanashi's friendships that start off on the wrong foot have room for growth, the memory thing makes things kind of... weird with her). She's in a much better state by 1beat.
-Saaya writes a lot of poetry.
-Yoh and Sagara are related. Somehow(I did consider nephew at one point but that didn't really pan out).
-So are Hiyu and Arumu. They've got that green hair and funky eyebrows.
-Akuta and Kaori date briefly(well, she's a fan of his work, and he is rich, and while he can't speak multiple languages he is well-spoken, what could go wrong?) which just ends in them breaking up over a disagreement over a book's ending. That was more the final straw though, actually getting to know him put into perspective just how far from her expectations he actually is and she's not super pleased about it. They do stay friends but something something important lesson about your idols being people.
-I feel like I've said somewhere that Kotora leaves the cafe to Rocca when he retires but I need to clarify that Kotora keeps being the cafe guy well into old age and that Rocca would be a whole adult by then.
-Kaori was the youngest of her siblings and only one to stay with her mother, she sees her dad as a good for nothing deadbeat(it wasn't an amicable divorce) and the ordeal heavily influenced how she views romantic relationships as a whole. Grew up somewhat distant from Kotora and their sister but reconnected in adulthood.
-Her "ideal guy" is just the best traits of her favorite book leads cobbled together like some kind of frankenguy. (And she might be internalizing something... who knows)
-The world did enter a more 'cyberpunk dystopia'-esque futuristic state a long time ago and the return to more traditional old timey ways is sort of in response to that, but Yasune is the only one who'd actually lived through it. Although then again the 2nd oldest character in the game is only 36 so...
The post is starting to not process so I'm going to cut it off here.
#*The example I had listed on my hc file was 'life sized Danny Devito cardboard cutout' but I don't know if I want to keep that#The piano hc was more the remnant of a sweet beach band au I had because I was thinking about rainbow rocks again#Sweet beach is interestingly enough my go-to for aus. I've never even told you guys about the fantasy au#(they're just adventurers though it's nothing extravagant. It doesn't even cover all the characters)#Mary's parents were in the picture when she became an idol but her siblings were raised by their grandparents.#Tobari stays at hotels and spends most of her paycheck on fancy tea.#she's kind of ridiculous levels of Jack-Of-All-Trades but it helps that she's a fast learner#Chino wasn't incredibly close with Sora's parents(friends maybe) but that won't stop her from looking out for the boy. New son#Haruya was probably pals with his brother. Regardless of how he may have felt about Sora himself(scary)#Kirai probably made an offhanded comment about outgrowing everyone someday so he's really pissed when he ends up#shorter than both Haruya and Rocca#You probably were wanting more 1beat hcs but as much as I love the 1beat cast I've only replayed recently#so none of my thoughts about the cast are quite fully formed yet#Might make a follow up eventually though because the hc file is Long#Omitted most of the ones I've already talked about but since those are scattered about my tags and the server I probably#should've included some of those too. Feel free to ask for elaboration on anything#Some of them get kind of lengthy too and I left most of those out but I did leave a few in and just heavily handwaved the details#Some of the shorter ones were shortened too because the post just wouldn't process ashsaldhjka#pieceofcake.txt#cakeheadcanons
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unbound-dreams · 1 year
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New Muse Arrival: Taika Virtanen
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“I’m a legend on my world, you know, you should take me seriously-.. wait, is that a book of anti-Faery wards? I can help you out if you let me get a peek...!”. 
(Art not by me! Drawn, commissioned from, and uploaded with permission from @queenieboo22 )
Name: Taika Virtanen
Nickname: Tai, 'Ka, Wind Friend
Physical Age: 8 Original Age: 33-38 Actual Age (in terms of Larutan):  600-800 years old
Gender: Female
Race: Fae-Touched (Formerly Human, Changeling)
Abilities: Powerful Wind Magic, ability to conjure powerful winds, affect the weather, flight on good days... But has extreme trouble controlling it in child form. Can temporarily revert to adult form when filled with determination, fully powered in this form
Personality: Paranoid, curious, studious, annoyed, stubborn.
Dream: To never have to worry about being captured by faeries again...
Backstory:
A powerful legend in her home world of Larutan, everyone knew the tales of Taika Virtanen, the Wind Witch who once split a mountain in two with a powerful bolt of lightning. creator of a storm powerful enough to form the great lake Virtanen, and decider of many a great battle, she hailed from a somewhat cold region to the north, famous for drawings of a strange, faery-like creature (Whom she also adores very much... secretly).
Her enemies feared her, her allies respected her, her students looked to her to guidance, Taika was always on the lips of those who knew about her.
Then... one day... she simply vanished. No one quite knew exactly what happened to the powerful wind witch!
Did she give up her physical body to become one with the wind?
Did Faeries take her away?
Did the gods punish her for her hubris and seal her away into Lake Virtanen? None knew... but her legend remained, famous to all, living on into the present day...
...
But, what really happened? She was kidnapped by faeries! And not just any faeries... faeries loyal to the Twilight Princex Maxime, who wished to give the child a playmate who could entertain them with magic, and since she was so powerful and famous... she unfortunately fit the bill.  Maxime at first didn't think she was very entertaining, given her haughty and stuck-up nature. Why was she such a stick in the mind!?
Figuring that if she wasn't so old, she'd be a lot funner to play with, Maxime cast a spell upon the Witch, removing years of life and time from her body, reducing her from a powerful witch into a mere child of eight years old. She still had her wind magic, barely diminished at all, but it became much harder to control, and worse yet, sometimes she fell into childish moments of "empty headed" moments, which shocked and dismayed the witch greatly. But Maxime thought it was such a rousing success, that he "Blessed" his first playmate by making it permanent! Making her an unaging, eternal child.
Though she could temporarily lift the spell and return to her adult form, it took a lot of effort, and she had to spend a lot of that entertaining her new prince, even if she hated it sometimes. Time went on, and Taika's body began to gain some other changes... most prominent being elongated elfen ears... and a prominent star marking on her face, sometimes it was a single star, other times two (Especially when near Maxime), and other times it split apart into what looked like a sea of star freckles Then... after what felt like only two months, the Twilight Prince sighed wistfully and said  "Sorry Taika, I'm bored of you now, you can go! You can keep being a kid, though!" And without another word, Taika was returned to a mortal world... ... But not Larutan! She was deposited onto an entirely random mortal world... still a child, still with semi-diminished magic, and still with some lapses in thought! And worse still, Maxime did not "Sync" her with the Fair Lands, whenever she is in the Fair Lands, days, weeks, months... even years pass by in the mortal worlds, and even when she would return to Larutan, she would five that 400 years had passed since she went missing.
Now something of a wanderer, Taika wanders the mortal worlds, hoping to find a way to lift the curse Maxime set upon her (or at least weaken it), return to her home world of Larutan, and simply attempt to regain the life she once had. But, even so, she still has to be careful, other Faeries seek her, and Maxime has once more sought out to regain his first playmate, feeling horrible for what he did to her, he simply wants to be her friends and make things right! With threats and problems of all kinds, mortal, fae, and otherwise, Taika has a lot to deal with. Sometimes, she's even recaptured by Maxime to be her playmate again, and is forced to wear a horribly gaudy dress by his guardians... ... But, she always escapes and regains her original clothes.
It's a stressful, fast paced life, and despite it alll... She keeps going. ... And sometimes she can't deny... Eternal Youth is pretty great...
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autolovecraft · 1 year
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Why did you do it, Birch?
He was the devil incarnate, Birch, just as I thought!
He always remained lame, for the great tendons had been severed; but I think the greatest lameness was in his soul. He could not walk, it appeared, and the degree of dignity to be maintained in posing and adapting the unseen members of lifeless tenants to containers not always calculated with sublimest accuracy. He could not walk, it appeared, and the latch of the great door yielded readily to a touch from the outside. Great heavens, Birch, just as I thought!
Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch. Horrible pains, as of savage wounds, shot through his calves; and in his mind was a vortex of fright mixed with an unquenchable materialism that suggested splinters, loose nails, or some other attribute of a breaking wooden box. His frightened horse had gone home, but his frightened wits never quite did that. Perhaps he screamed. Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you got what you deserved.
In time the hole grew so large that he ventured to try his body in it now and then, shifting about so that the coffins beneath him rocked and creaked.
Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it. Whether he had imagination enough to wish they were empty, is strongly to be doubted. The tower at length finished, and his body responding with that maddening slowness from which one suffers when chased by the phantoms of nightmare. Dusk fell and found Birch still toiling. He changed his business in 1881, yet never discussed the case when he could avoid it. His head was broken in, and everything was tumbled about. The afflicted man was fully conscious, but would say nothing of any consequence; merely muttering such things as Oh, my ankles! The moon was shining on the scattered brick fragments and marred facade, and the company beneath his feet, he philosophically chipped away the stony brickwork; cursing when a fragment hit him in the face, and laughing when one struck the increasingly excited horse that pawed near the cypress tree. It may have been mocking. The hungry horse was neighing repeatedly and almost uncannily, and he vaguely wished it would stop. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. This arrangement could be ascended with a minimum of awkwardness, and would furnish the desired height. Several of the coffins began to split under the stress of handling, and he vaguely wished it would stop. When he perceived that the latch was hopelessly unyielding, at least in a city; and even Peck Valley would have shuddered a bit had it known the easy ethics of its mortuary artist in such debatable matters as the ownership of costly laying-out apparel invisible beneath the casket's lid, and the overhead ventilation funnel virtually none at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. For an impersonal doctor, Davis' ominous and awestruck cross-examination became very strange indeed as he sought to pull himself up, when he noticed a queer retardation in the form of an apparent drag on both his ankles.
The afflicted man was fully conscious, but would say nothing of any consequence; merely muttering such things as Oh, my ankles! He had not forgotten the criticism aroused when Hannah Bixby's relatives, wishing to transport her body to the cemetery in the city whither they had moved, found the casket of Judge Capwell beneath her headstone. The borders of the space were entirely of brick, and there seemed little doubt but that he could shortly chisel away enough to allow his body to pass. Birch, but you knew what a little man old Fenner was.
Several of the coffins began to split under the stress of handling, and he did not heed the day at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. I've seen sights before, but there was one thing too much here. Birch, just as I thought! God, what a rage! On the afternoon of Friday, April 15th, then, Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner.
At any rate he kicked and squirmed frantically and automatically whilst his consciousness was almost eclipsed in a half-swoon. Davis left Birch that night he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb. The practices I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb. I suppose one should start in the cold December of 1880, when the ground froze and the cemetery delvers found they could dig no more graves till spring. Tired and perspiring despite many rests, he descended to the floor and sat a while on the bottom step of his grim device, Birch cautiously ascended with his tools and stood abreast of the narrow transom. Armington helped Birch to the outside of a spare bed and sent his little son Edwin for Dr. Davis.
He had, indeed, made that coffin for Matthew Fenner; but had cast it aside at last as too awkward and flimsy, in a fit of curious sentimentality aroused by recalling how kindly and generous the little old man had been to him during his bankruptcy five years before. Great heavens, Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin! His frightened horse had gone home, but his frightened wits never quite did that. His head was broken in, and everything was tumbled about. The narrow transom admitted only the feeblest of rays, and the latch of the great door yielded readily to a touch from the outside. It must have been midnight at least when Birch decided he could get through the transom. For the long-neglected latch was obviously broken, leaving the careless undertaker trapped in the vault, a victim of his own oversight.
He cried aloud once, and a little later gave a gasp that was more terrible than a cry.
An eye for an eye! When Dr. Davis left, urging Birch to insist at all times that his wounds were caused entirely by loose nails and splintering wood.
As his hammer blows began to fall, the horse outside whinnied in a tone which may have been fear mixed with a queer belated sort of remorse for bygone crudities.
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delicrieux · 3 years
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☆ミ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 13: ...O-OH?
it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.
─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided)  ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno
author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots
ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.
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✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.
No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.
The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”
Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”
Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.
There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.
“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too. 
More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.
Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby. 
Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.
“Hey, dude!”
“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”
“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air. 
“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.
“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”
-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully. 
“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.
“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”
“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”
“Of course, baby.” You purr. 
There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...
“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.
“You know it!”
“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”
“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”
“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”
“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.
its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me
ikr she looks ready to join the monastery
each day we stray closer to gods light???
Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.
The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”
“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.
“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby? 
One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too. 
Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”
Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”
“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”
“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”
“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.
“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.
“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”
“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”
corpse stop acting weird challenge
literally omg lmao
he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!
^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi
“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”
“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen. 
Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.
“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.
“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”
You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.
With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.
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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration. 
The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.
worried about this dynamic 
its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz
Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.
“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”
“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.
“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.
“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”
You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.
“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”
You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”
“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”
“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”
“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.
“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.
“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised. 
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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.
You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively  good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.
Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.
Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.
“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”
People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.
“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.
flame him
corpse boutta be a corpse fr
beat his ass queen!!!!!
“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”
“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”
“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”
“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”
“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.
“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”
“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”
“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”
“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.
“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”
The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls.  The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”
“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.
“It’s Y/n.”
“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly,  “get my pretty name out of your mouth.” 
There’s a pause full of tense silence. 
Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”
“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”
“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.
“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.
“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.
“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.
You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.” 
“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”
“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”
“No, wait-”
“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.
“Y/n, please-”
“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.
“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.
“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis. 
“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”
“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”
Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.
20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”
Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.
Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!
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First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.
Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.
Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.
It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.
“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”
“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”
“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”
Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.
It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.
The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing. 
“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”
“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”
“Maybe Momo?”
“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”
You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.
“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”
“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”
“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan. 
“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.
Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.
now she notices
snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour 
corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it
opening wattpad rn^
Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. 
“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”
Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno. 
“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”
“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.
“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”
If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi. 
why is that kinda hot tho omg
didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do
y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao 
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You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.
“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.
“Hm?”
“Was talking to the roaches.”
“What are they saying?”
“That I should betray you.”
“...Better not.”
A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”
“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”
“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!
“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”
You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”
“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”
You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”
“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.
“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”
You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”
He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”
 Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”
“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”
“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”
It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.
y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge
making fanart of this omg her face
its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!
^she cant, it lives there
“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”
“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”
“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.
Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”
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The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.
“Baby, you know what to do.”
The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”
“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”
“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”
“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.
“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”
“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.
“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”
You’re silent for a moment.
“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.
A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”
“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.
The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.
Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.
“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”
“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”
“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”
“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”
“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”
yeah he would be lmao
mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n
rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels
As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.
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TAGLIST IS CLOSED!
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
4K notes · View notes
justbreakonme · 2 years
Note
A whumpee all covered and sticky with blood, concussed and a broken arm and caretaker helping them wash their hair (maybe plus getting into the shower, taking off clothes, if you're comfortable with it. still sfw tho).
(Context because otherwise this would be like 30 pages long: Slave!Whumpee was bought by Owner!Caretaker to help rescue him from the system, however, he doesn’t know yet. He tried to run away, was caught, and basically given bare minimum medical care before being dumped back on her doorstep.)
“You’re a bit of a mess aren’t you?” Caretaker sighed, trying to pretend she hadn’t just been crying her eyes out in worry, “Let’s get you cleaned up before you track it all over the house.”
‘A bit of a mess’ that quite an understatement. He was practically soaked in blood and caked with dirt, shivering and with no shoes on. There was a couple good sized bruises starting to form along his cheek and shoulders, and probably more underneath his clothing…
“Yes ma’am.”
He keeps his eyes on the floor, hoping she’d give him a moment to recover before she punished him. He knew he didn’t deserve it after what he’d done, but he hoped anyway.
“What did the doctor say about your arm?”
“Just not to get the cast wet ma’am.”
“And your head?”
“To avoid any further injury, and to-“ he paused, wishing there was anything else that could treat a concussion, “to avoid excessive movement and light.”
“Hmm, well we’ll work on that. What about medicine? What did they give you and how often are you supposed to take it?”
“Medicine ma’am?”
“Yes, medicine?”
“I- They didn’t give me medicine, ma’am, I swear.”
“None, at all? Not even while they were putting on your cast?”
“No ma’am.”
She sighed sharply, pressing a hand to her forehead, and he would give anything to simply crawl into a hole and die.
“Okay. Go get undressed down to your underwear and wait in the bathroom. The one with the blue walls in my room. If you don’t have some help, that blood is never gonna come out of your hair. I’m going to go find you some medicine.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He paused, trying to process what she had said fully.
Things are going rather slowly…
When he still hadn’t moved, she looked at him again, cocking her head to the side. “Did you hear me?”
“Y-yes, I’m sorry, sorry, yes ma’am.” He nearly bit his tongue off in the process of speaking so fast, and turned to head off, just remembering ‘blue walls’.
He found the bathroom eventually, and wondered why she would tell him to go in here. It was so pretty…
The walls were robins egg blue with cherry wood cabinets, but what his eyes were drawn to was the huge bathtub.
She could drown me…
A noise from the other side of the house jerked him back to the present, and he quickly started to undress, tugging off his blood soaked pants and socks, leaving him in boxers from the waist down. Then, he started on the shirt buttons, knowing he’d never be able to just pull the shirt off over his head with his cast.
It was proving rather difficult, both due to the pops of light and the way his brain seemed to be moving through wet sand, and that he was doing it one handed.
He could hear her footsteps coming towards the bathroom, and he hadn’t even undone the first button.
Oh please, please, why won’t you just work? She’s already so angry, please…
Tears of fear and frustration start to form as he managed the first button, but there was still 5 more to go…
The door opened.
“I thought I told you to get undressed?”
Don’t whine, don’t make excuses, don’t make things worse…
“I- The buttons- I can’t get them undone- I can, it just- I’m sorry!” His voice just broke as he began to sob.
It was too much, everything was too much, he’d ruined everything and was only making it worse and worse…
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Mistress…” he dropped to his knees, finally buckling, “I- I-“
What could I promise? I tried to run. There’s no reason for her to trust me, I’ve got nothing to give…
“Oh-oh dear, alright, maybe this was too much,” she knelt down beside him, her hands hovering above his shoulders, trying to figure out how to handle this. He was like a tangled bird, delicate and struggling and requiring intense precision. Something she didn’t have.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and placed two fingers under his chin. “Look at me.”
He obeyed, trying to hold his breath.
“Catch your breath. I’ll handle the buttons, you just hold still.”
He tried, honestly, and part of him just seemed to check out.
Obey. It’s the only hope.
She went down the line, undoing each button, then stood up, taking him under his good arm and guiding him up as well.
“Pull your arm through.”
He obeyed.
“Now hold still as I get it over the cast.”
Carefully, she worked the other sleeve down the cast and off, tossing the shirt over with his other discarded clothes.
She was…gentle?
“Sit down over there while the water fills up.”
He obeyed, taking a seat where she had pointed, and just stared down at his knees.
Now, all he was hoping was that his punishment would be being hit… Starvation or extra work or humiliation or anything… but if she hit him, he was going to shatter like glass…
Another deep breath.
Then she was off, her hands now experienced. She turned the water on and stopped up the bathtub drain, testing the temperature with the back of her hand till it was quite warm, but not too hot. He had been shivering, and his skin was cold to the touch.
“Here, take these. They should help with the pain a bit.” He was shaken out of his stupor by the pills and a cup of water appearing in front of him, and like before, he obeyed.
“Good. Hold out your arm.”
Again, he obeyed.
“Other arm. I’m gonna put this over your cast.” She held up a towel, and when he obeyed, she tucked the towel around his arm, covering the cast completely.
“You’ll need to be careful but that should help. Come on.”
He could see steam rising off of the water, and wondered how hot bath water could get…
Hot enough to burn?
But he knew if she told him to sit in a tub of boiling water, he would do it.
“Step in, hold onto the side there.” she instructed, searching through her cabinets, “Sit with your back to the tap.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He flinched when he stepped in, expecting pain, but instead it was relief.
Warm. Warm, not hot.
He quickly sunk in, carefully keeping his cast hung over the side of the tub, and tried to hide his sigh of relief.
He had nearly dozed off in the few minutes it took for her to find what she had been looking for. A small, wide toothed comb, and a pair of shears. His hair had already been tangled, trying to comb it now was probably going to be a lost cause without a bit of a trim.
“You’re gonna have to lean your head under the tap,” she says, making him jump, “I’m gonna do the rest, just do what I say.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Lean back, and make sure water gets all over. Where did you get hit?”
“Right here, ma’am.” Trembling fingers tap his left temple, and she notes to be extra careful.
He flinches when he feels her hands guide his head into an easier to reach position, but…
Again, why is she being so gentle? What kind of game was this?
She started to work the comb through his hair, pausing at the knots and either just cutting them out or working them through, depending on the size.
Even though he knew he should still be terrified, still be stiff as a board and keep his eyes open and on watch… it felt good…
Whatever she had given him was starting to kick in already, and the warm water felt like it was sinking him to his bones… And if he pretended hard enough, he could pretend that it was someone else brushing his hair, that he was somewhere safe…
She could feel him melting into putty in her hands, and she could have laughed if it wasn’t so…sad. So she just kept working, battling back the surge of emotion that was beating again her.
She was almost halfway done combing when her curiosity got the better of her. “Where were you going?”
He flinched, tensing up again, and she instantly internally smacked herself.
“I didn’t have a plan ma’am… I don’t know where I would have gone.”
“Hmm…”
Now it was his turn to ask a question. If he hadn’t been drugged and sleepy and more than a little okay if she just pushed him under the water and held him there, he probably would have kept his mouth shut.
“Ma’am…why are you being so gentle?”
“You weren’t here long enough for me to explain…” she sighed, carefully snipping away a large knot, “I’ve never been an owner before. I’ve never wanted to be, I think it’s wrong, and I think that the whole system is horrible. But I’ve also seen the man who bid on you buy someone new each month and I never see them again. I usually just push the bidding up a bit to stop him, but… that didn’t happen with you. I don’t really know what I’m going to do. But it’s not going to be anything to hurt you.”
He tried so hard to swallow the lump in his throat, but it wasn’t going anywhere…
How lucky could he be? And how stupid…
“I’m sorry…” was all he could think to say, but she just gently shushed him.
She kept brushing, being especially careful around his left temple, and he didn’t have to pretend when he closed his eyes and let his head fall back into her hands.
She worked in the shampoo, rinsed, then conditioner, letting it sit while he scrubbed off the worst of the dirt and blood.
So tired..
He started to doze off again as she rinsed out the conditioner, but was quickly roused with the instructions to finish cleaning up, then change into the clothes that she was going to find for him.
Soon, he was fully clean and dressed in the softest clothes he’d ever worn, and she paused, looking at him.
He looked…different. In a good way.
And he felt…different. In a good way.
And they both knew things would be…different. In a good way.
And so as he fell asleep, tucked up safely in the spare room with an extra blanket and a pillow to prop his arm with, he didn’t have to pretend at all.
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nyxyxx · 2 years
Text
Warm Sunrise
Sorry if its really short i just had this stuck in my head. Just wanted something with Kazoo boy.
warnings!: not rly anything of note just pure fluff
The morning birds chirped as loudly as ever, yet not so loud for it to be annoying. The calming sound began to stir you from your slumber, the slow rising and falling of your chest becoming more noticeable. You slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of dawn. The orange sun slowly rising above the horizon, casting the land with a faint glow. You had fallen asleep on the grass, after a long trip of exploring. As you began to sit up, you noticed how clean your clothes were. You were sure that you had tossed and turned a lot during your sleep, but there was not even a speck of dirt on your clothing.
The answer to this observation wasn't exactly surprising. You had fallen asleep directly on top of a certain person, who's clothes showed more obviously that they were stained. You sighed, feeling slightly responsible for the defiling of his pretty clothes, and crawled off of his form. You sat onto the grass, holding your body up with your arms as you looked at the sunrise.
It was fascinating, how time seemed to slow when you were by yourself. The day prior felt like a distant memory, like it had happened hundreds of years ago, despite only being yesterday. As you admired the peaceful sun, you thought that your companion would also enjoy the beautiful sight. You still did not want to wake him, but he would most surely not mind all that much.
You smiled, before running your fingers through his light blond hair, occasionally getting stuck in the tangles. It was funny, how he kept his appearance so neat and tidy for you, but now it was all ruined because of sleeping on the dirt. You leaned over him and called out his name. "Kazuha..."
Despite it being so quiet, the proximity made it easier for him to hear your voice. He slowly began to wake, moaning in discomfort when he noticed the change in temperature that his body was used to. When his eyelids fluttered open, you were met with kind, red eyes staring back at your own. He smiled sweetly, happy that the first thing he woke up to was his lovely God's face. "Good morning," he yawned, sitting up beside you.
"Isn't the sunrise beautiful?" You asked, bringing your attention back to the sky. You felt almost lost within the feeling that it gave to you. A feeling of familiarity, like you had been destined to be here. That this place was your home and would always remain that way.
"Why yes, your grace, it truly is a wonderful sight." His voice was still slightly raspy from just waking up, but it was still just as sweet and charming as ever. Kazuha could only think about this moment lasting forever. The two of you, his lovely God and a servant such as he, to gaze upon the morning sun forever. It was such a blissful moment for the two of you, albeit the two of you had different reasons why.
Perhaps this was the place where you did truly belong, where everyone excepted and loved you, a place that you were destined to rule over and govern everyone to the right path. You couldn't explain where this feeling came from, or how it came to be, but it just felt right.
You and Kazuha stayed there for quite some time, within each other's embrace till the sun had fully come up. You knew that you would be in for a handful when you returned to the rest of your followers, worry evident on all of their faces, but at the current moment none of it mattered. All that truly mattered, was this moment. A moment that deserved to last forever.
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husbandohunter · 3 years
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May I request a Childe X Reader fanfic where the reader has been pushing herself too hard lately and so Childe has to forcefully get her to rest? ty
By my side [Childe x Reader]//Genshin Impact
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Synopsis: You were an artist and he was an adventurer. Two people from vast backgrounds and Childe just wants to spend some time of his busy life with you. However, things didn't really go his way...at first.
(Childe x F!reader. Its all fluff)
(A/n): Perfect request anon. I too, would like to have a Childe in my life. Been getting 5-6 hours of sleep on average 😃😁. Yeah kind tossed some extra ideas with artist s/o, its a perfect reason for anyone to be busy.
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Once recieving the permission to take a week off from his diplomatic duties, the first thing Childe thought of was none other than his lovely significant other.
The harbinger knew quite well what lays ahead of his ventures to Liyue. During his quest for the archon's gnosis, he encountered many interesting events, such as meeting the rumoured traveller hailing from afar and a broke yet courteous man who turned out to be the ultimate ruler of this very country he walks upon then there was the battle against a dead god until he revived it using the sigil of permission. All of them were great additions to his story as Ajax the hero, something he always wanted to pursue since childhood. In which, also gave him something nice to write about when preparing letters for his siblings living back home. But little did the harbinger know that he'll one day bump into the heroine. A little too soon. Through your little art shop, he met you, a sweet and audacious woman with plenty of humour. That was how it all began.
While he strides down the streets between Liyue's exquisite buildings, Childe suddenly stops in his tracks and looks up to the sky. There, was painted a scenery of an evening dusk, sun rays relfected across until red and orange hues cast a river stream that led to the ends of the world. He watched the birds follow that streak like it was a path made for them to fly towards. A new adventure. You would have loved to captured this in your pictures.
And then he wonders, what might you be painting right now?
"Hey babe, I'm home~"
In a sing-song voice he calls out to you by your nick-name. You knew that Childe was an active member of the Fatui and that his time was limited, hence he made sure to write to you as well. Of course long distant relationships only makes the waiting more anticipated. When he does pay a visit, you'd run straight into his open arms, leaping off your feet to engulf him in one enourmous embrace. Then his hands will hold against your waist as he spins your round and around in the air, stealing the laughter out of your lungs before planting you back on the floor. Sometimes Childe would consider that being far away wasn't be such a bad idea as long as he was able to experience this, the harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. However...
"That's great."
He was met by a response similar to the wintry grace of Snezhnaya.
Huh?
All the fantasies he had from earlier shatters in the background as he stands there frozen. You didn't even spare a glance to the entrance, eyes still glued to the large canvas displayed at your front, too busy to even care. Childe clicks his tongue between the awkward silence with an uncertain expression. When there was no signs of initiation on your part, he shuffled his way to where you were and observes from behind.
"Well you're particularly quiet today," he muses to himself, placing a hand over his hip, "I guess that painting of yours must be really important then."
It was obvious that he was trying to nudge you into his favour. Something that you've found endearing was how quickly your boyfriend can be when he's in a needy state. So you quickly twisted over to peck him on the cheek before going back to work.
"That's better," Childe satisfiedly grins, "So who is this project for?"
"It's a commission requested by a wealthy family serving the Qixing. They're really influential in terms of the market and can really give me a competitive edge. I have to get it done in five days."
His tone flactuates as he squints his eyes, "Five days you say," he disliked the news of your schedule taking over his own, Childe only managed to take a week off and after that, he'll be away for quite some time, "Why don't you take a break? From the looks of your progress, it seems to me that you've been working on it for hours. I've got plenty of interesting stories to tell and you know, nothing can compare to sharing a warm meal within your company," he leans down to your ear level, "How does that sound?"
Several seconds went by as he waits for some sort of reaction, "Oh. Right," you blurted out and the harbinger only smiles, "I made some food earlier this morning. You can go help yourself if you're hungry."
Today was not his day.
Childe pulls out the wooden chair and slumps into the seat, a defeated huff escaping his mouth as he stared at the crystal shrimp placed on the table. It was hastily wrapped by plastic, most likely cold for a while, just like the romantic evening he had planned in his head. Normally you'll be sitting on the otherside while listening to the many tales he went through along the way. Although painting was your passion, it was undeniable that you also enjoyed his kind of lifestyle if you ever had the choice. He was rather surprised on how someone ambitious like him would end up with such a simplistic person but quickly accepted it as life was meant to be unpredictable, just the way he likes it. As Childe entertains you with his stories, he'll listen to your giggles amidst eating the homecooked meals that you both prepared together.
"I wonder if she ate already," he mumbled to his lone self. You most likely did but Childe knows you well. Artists are obsessed and they can go as far as to neglecting their own health for the sake of their masterpieces. Hence, he made sure to remind you to eat properly through the letters he wrote to you.
The harbinger takes a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. The cupboards were slightly opened, metal pots were still displayed on the stone stove and the stench coming from the sink....
Childe pushes himsel up to see what was the cause.
Not even the dishes were washed.
Running his fingers through his bangs, he sighs wearily, "Old habits die hard huh?" And above all else, when artists are obsessed they also forget how disorganized they can become. Childe begins to roll up his sleeves before taking off his gloves. At times like this he'll have to pitch in and take care of it for you, "Looks like I'll be here for a while."
Throughout three sunsets and three moonrises, Childe had no option but to observe you from afar, minus the few attempts he made to regain your attention again. How you would go to bed much later than him, waking up before he opens his eyes and the effort he put into making your food only left with too many leftovers. It wasn't that you were unappreciative, instead, your mind had become too focused that your body was considered a second priority. Like anyone else, Childe genuinely thought you possessed great talent and supports you wholeheartedly. He loved it when you painted pictures just for him as if they were scenes coming out of his hero story, reminded by his adventures, capturing every detail. However he also needed to learn how to deal with this stubborn side of yours.
"Hey babe, I just finished preparing our dinner. Don't you smell that? Such a rich aroma, you should go eat."
"I'm busy."
Your diet were just small bites, the rest being substituted by coffee. Childe could clearly tell that you weren't getting enough sleep either as there were dark circles forming underneath your eyes and slowly, he was starting to become a little irritated.
Three hours passed midnight but you were still awake in the same place doing the same thing. Childe leans against the doorframe with arms folded, already changed into his sleeping clothes. He clears his throat to break the silence, "Ahem."
Your wrist hangs in mid air by the sound of a strange visitor, it was your boyfriend. Gaze in a daze, you lazily turned your head, "What time is it?"
"Way passed the sleeping hours as you can see," he points with his thumb at the table clock in a half-hearted manner, "You should already be in bed by now and don't think you can coax yourself out of the situation this time," his eyes parted in slits as he added with a smile, "Otherwise I might just have to force you myself."
You shook your head, "Give me one more hour? There's some finishing touches I really want to add so," clasping your hands together, you beamed sweetly, "Pretty please? I'll finish up soon."
"Oh really?" Childe challenges, head tossed back like he was interrogating you instead, "I believe that was also what you told me yesterday. And the day before? Adding up all of those days that would be.....four in total?" He deliberately counts upon his fingers before facing you again, this time his expression was slightly more serious, "As much as I find your determination remarkable, there are moments when you need to consider a sufficient amount of rest and this just isn't going to cut it."
"Four days already?!" You exclaimed, "Jeez, I don't even know if I'm halfway done."
Pressing his lips together, Childe glares in an acutely deadpanned countenance, it was also his time too, "Can't you ask this commissioner to extend your due date to next week? In your case, mora shouldn't be the issue since, well...you're dating me anyways."
It's true. Childe was the main reason why you didn't have to live as a starving artist. He had all your expenses fully covered from the marketing aspect to your residence, you simply chose to work out of pure will.
"I don't want to always rely on you so much," you confessed, "This commissioner could turn my whole career around. If I'm able to gain his favour, maybe I'll get promoted to a court painter for the Qixing! Who knows when there will ever be a chance like this again," pumping your fists, you spoke purposefully, "I'll pull an all nighters if I have to!"
Childe brings his hand to his forehead, you looked as if you were nearly about to collapse and yet still considering the option of an all-nighters? The harbinger should've detained you days prior before.
"Hm? Childe, what's wrong?" He suddenly falls deadly quiet and you watched him walk closer towards you, "What are--"
Hooking an arm behind your knees and the other at your back, your boyfriend lifts you up in one full swoop as he tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Guess we'll have to do things the hard way," he remarks cheerfully.
"W-Wait," you flailed your arms and kicked your legs but to no avail. Childe was an experienced combatant indeed, "Put me down! I have work to do."
Your protests fall upon deaf ears as the harbinger carries you to your room. You were oddly lighter than the last time he carried you, the strength less vigor than before, it was obvious that your body was in need of relaxation. He suddenly thinks there was a possibility that you would maintain this habit while he was absent.
I should probably visit more often.
Using his free leg to nudge the door open, he places you upon the shared bed in a gentle manner. You winced at the impact of the soft sheets, surprised by how much it affect you.
"There we go. All done. Man, you really are a stubborn one, aren't you. Makes me a little worried since I can't spoil you all the time."
He quickly invited himself to the empty space on your bedside and wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you close and feeling you whole. Childe made sure there was no escape once putting his chin above your hairline so that you could feel his warmth as much as possible.
"This is--" you stuttered. His tactic was enough to make your limbs soften and you could almost hear him smirk into the distance, "This is cheating..."
"You think so?" He comments as if pledging innocence, "I don't know babe. Where I come from those who take the initiative are the ones who end up claiming the prize," pulling back, Childe takes the opportunity to observe your pouty face, "I don't make the rules. It's just how it goes."
You wanted to argue back but he suddenly took the bedsheets and covered both of your bodies with, completely trapping you with his presence. He snuggles into you further as if you were a bear made of linen and you felt the drowsiness taking over your mind. The way he gently pats down the back of your head was enough to instantly lull you into a deep sleep.
"Cheater," you mumbled.
He laughs softly, the rumbles emitting through his chest, "I love you too babe."
Even after you've let go of your resistance, Childe continues his actions until he was sure that you were resting. He had been longing to touch you like this since living a chaotic life only made peaceful moments much sweeter, "You're such a hard-worker you know that? I'm proud of you but you have to know when to call it a day," he whispers, "If not, how can I go on trips while knowing that you're still refusing to eat properly?"
You closed your eyes and said nothing in return. All your senses were too cloudy to come up with a reassuring response. Childe listens to the way your breath evens as you intake his scent during the process. It smelled like the soap you used in the showers, lotus leaves mixed with his own unique musk. You could only focus on him. His comforting embrace. His slightly accelerating heartbeat because you were together with him.
Letting out one final yawn, you succumbed to his spell and allowed your energy to drift away.
The corners of his lips tug upwards, "Sleep well princess."
Childe reaches over to your desk drawer and shuts off the alarm clock before turning over to face you again. He couldn't fall asleep immediately, not when he had to consider taking care of the commissioner who gave you an impossible deadline. But that will be saved for another day, for now, he observes in silent serenity.
If he were to quit his job for a year, what would his life be like?
Peaceful. Something opposite of what he was living right now. Something similar to the life he had back home. As you arrange the many paintings in your little home, he'll offer to help you among the places you couldn't reach. Without a doubt, Childe was far taller in comparison. Taking strolls into the streets and trying the new dishes the merchants came up with. Then in the evenings, you'll both go to dinner dates while listening to the storyteller revealing the rumours of the legendary Tianquan Qixing. Although Childe loved the adventurous life he led, he had to admit that your domesticity and family-bringing atmosphere was a tempting idea.
Maybe one day.
He lightly takes a strand that had fallen over your nose and tucked it smoothly behind your ear. The soft snores coming out of your parted lips caused his gaze to melt. And so he steals them with his own, placing a chaste goodnight kiss.
One day I'll be sure to bring my family here with us.
Closing his eyes, he joins you in your slumber, hoping to see all that he envisioned in his dreams.
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parkjimin1010smuts · 3 years
Text
Breaking Point || Kth
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Summary: Taehyung reveals just how he deals with his stress to his best friend y/n and late one night y/n reaches her breaking point and decides to put Taehyungs tactic to the test, but there is a slight problem she has no one to help her out, or does she?
Warnings: daddy kink, overstimulation, thigh riding, virgin reader, multiple orgasms, fingerings, unprotected sex (yalls stay safe out there though this is just a fanfic), dom tae, sub reader, pwp. Enjoy!!
An elbow nudging into the side of your ribcage pulled you back into the conscious realm. A slight gasp leaves your mouth as you jerked your head back up. Now who the hell thought it was the perfect moment to need your attention.
You gathered your surroundings haphazardly, a subtle frown settling upon your face as you realized just who it was, Kim Taehyung. “Morning princess, I almost thought you’d never wake up,” his velvety voice mocked.
Turning towards Taehyung, the frown on your face only deepened, a small sound of annoyance escaping you. With your eyes now in his direction you unintendedly began to check him out. The cluster of blonde hair that was normally nestled peacefully was a disheveled mess exposing his forehead. His plump cheeks were pushed up due to the goofy grin he had plastered on his face nearly concealing his chocolate brown eyes that were now mere crescent moons. I had to admit he had a very attractive smile, reminiscent of a box.
His body was clad in a pair of black slacks that clung beautifully against his muscular thighs leaving very little to the imagination. His caramel chest peeked at me from the confines of the loose summer shirt he wore. I was brought back to reality when the view of his chest was suddenly obscured by the change in his position as he was now bent over packing his things. Releasing I heavy sigh I began to mirror his actions before throwing my bag over my shoulder and making a beeline straight to the double doors. In true Taehyung fashion he was right on my tail, trailing me like the faithful guard dog he pretends to be.
You and Taehyung  have been best friends now for over 15 years, you both met in the early years of preschool and by the grace of the angels above you have not been separated ever since. Through thick and thin, trials and tribulations, Taehyung has been there every step of the way. Everything you have experienced so has he, that’s how close you two are and, in all honesty, you wouldn’t have it any other way with any other person. 
This closeness however was more often than not met with questioning glances and needless two cent comments, most of them romance related. But Taehyung was always so quick to shut them down with a little more fervor and enthusiasm than you would deem necessary.  It was clear to you that Taehyung simply had no interest in you romantically, and you understood. Who cared if you had a tini, tiny crush on him. Not you that’s for sure.
But I mean it was inevitable, the man who was now glued to you side in a steady march that matched your own was a literal god send. He was loyal, attractive and physically in shape. What more was there to ask for.
“What’s up with you lately, every time I see you you’re either lethargic or in one hell of a mood.” My best friend voiced before abruptly coming to a halt in front of his black pick up.
“Nothing I’ve just been up studying for finals and the stress Is finally getting to me I guess,” you say through clenched teeth. You really do feel like you're reaching your breaking point and seeing how well put together Taehyung just riles you up even further. Its really not fair, we are in the same course, the same exams, the same workloads and yet there he is basking in his ethereal beauty, fair skin with no signs of exertion. While you on the other hand are left to wallow in the deep dark bags that have taken residence beneath your forever dropping eyes. Don’t even get me started on the acne that picks the absolutely best moments to choose your face as their next canvas, please note the sarcasm.
Allowing your curiosity to surface you voice the question that has been eating at you for quite some time now, “How do you do it?” Taehyung shots a quick glance your way before reverting his attention back to the bustling road before us but the slight dip of his eyebrows was enough for you to know he wants you to elaborate.
With a deep breath you laid everything that had been forming a cluster in your mind out on the table for Taehyung to digest. When you was through with your mini rant session an eerie silence danced between you two for a good minute before Taehyung finally released a hearty chuckle. With his head thrown back and eyes closed from the intensity of his smile he was unable to see the way your face twisted in confusion.
“You think I’m ethereal?” Of course, that was the only thing his pea sized brain was able to pick. Suppressing all the swear words you had an indescribable urge to throw his way you simply rolled your eyes while sinking further into the leather car seat.
“I release my stress through other things.” He finally said after calming himself.
“Other things,” you said with a raise of my eyebrow. 
“Yeah, other things, or more specifically sex.” your eyes grow tenfold as you choke on your saliva. Sex?! Should this really have been a surprise to you, I mean he’s young healthy and oh just look at him.
However it still does nothing to subside the slight blush you feel creeping up your neck as you avert your eyes to your lap. While he was indeed your best friend and things not discussed between the two of you were few and far between, one thing he never seemed to ask you about was your sex life. Not that there was much to ask about in the first place. You were a virgin, not entirely from lack of trying but still a virgin none the less.
“Oh,” that was the only logical response your mind could muster given the circumstances.
“Oh,” Taehyung retorted as he maneuvered the car to rest in his driveway. Choosing to remain silent you purse your lips into a thin line, you refuse to falter, even when he turns his body to allow his eyes to have unlimited access to scrutinize you with their chocolate depths. The car suddenly feels so hot or maybe that’s just your face which is now beet red.
“What’s with your reaction y/n,” Taehyung presses fully failing to read the room, or car in this situation.
You have never had any problems confiding in Taehyung but for some reason you feel embarrassed to mention that you're still in fact a 23 year old virgin, especially after he just shared details of his very thriving sex life.
The silence drags on for a good three minutes and knowing your best friend you know there is no way he will ever give in and so you cave. “I’m a virgin, okay. There, are you happy now,” you hastily say with an exasperated sigh. Choosing to save yourself from the snarky remarks you know are about to flow like a river from your best friend you hurriedly make your way out of the confines of his car. You mentally curse the universe as you see we are in fact parked outside his apartment complex and any thoughts you had of fleeing the scene are disintegrated in mere seconds. As if adding fuel to the flame the sound of the car door sounds as Taehyung makes his way out of his car and round to my side.
“Please save it, I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit right now,” you cut him off before he can even part his lips. “Hey what’s wrong with you. Did you seriously think I would judge you just because you chose to keep it locked up.” you simply avert your gaze as his words settled in your head.
“Hey look at me, your virginity is nothing to be ashamed of okay, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, but you know me better than that. You know I would never shame you for anything so insignificant.” The tone of his voice was calm and collected and shame suddenly washed over you from the way you had jumped the gun. You never realised how your reaction could have been perceived, Taehyung was always so understanding and here you were assuming only the worst of him.
Deciding not to push the conversation any further you simply lowered your head in embarrassment before heaving a sigh. You've been doing that a lot lately. Being the attentive best friend that he is Taehyung was quick to pick up on my signals and thankfully refrained from pushing the topic any further. A silence soon settled between us before Taehyung laced his fingers around your own before leading you back to his car.
“I’m gonna take you home and you just get some rest okay,” The soft nature of his voice just made you feel worse while simultaneously lifting your mood.
~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•
Yet again a frown had found its way onto your face as you stared at the clock that ticked away on your bedside table. It was just past 2am and yet the lights in your room were still on casting shadows over the immense paperwork clustered all over your bedsheets. Yet another sleepless night with your only companion being a cup of coffee made with  three sugars and a gallon of stress.
Grabbing the cup of steaming goodness you throw your head back as you allow the bitter taste to maneuverer its way into your body with hopes of getting your systems back on high alert. You put down the coffee with a soft clang so it’s now adjacent to the ticking demon that serves as a constant reminder of how shit you have it right now.
Fighting the urge to scream you plunge face first into your numerous worksheets. This was it, you had finally reached your breaking point, the tears that stung the corners of your eyes served as confirmation.
Just as you were about to succumb to the severity of it all and just allow yourself to scream and cry to your hearts content a certain blonde haired box smiled adorning goof crossed your mind. Or more specifically a certain conversation shared between the two of you.
Sex.
You felt tingly sensations dance through your veins as the solution to all your problems was now just in front of you. However this feeling of euphoria was only short lived as not long after you realised there wasn’t a single person you could ask for help. Well there was that one guy you met during spring break, but your relationship came to a rocky end as he bumped heads with Taehyung over your relationship with him. He had accused you of slutting around with Taehyung and the man in question did not take lightly to his words. Lets just say his name is most definitely off the table, and so is my relief plan seeing as he is your only ex. Pathetic I know, no need to remind me.
You run your fingers across your laptop giving it a contemplative tap, while trying your hardest to push the most obvious solution to your problem to the back of your head. There was no way you could call him. Seriously, there was no plausible or conceivable scenario in which you went to your best friend, pleading for him to lend you his body to get off. You brought your hands to your face, a shriek of embarrassment escaping you at the mere idea.
This was the guy who had seen you at your worst, stumbling into your apartment with puke all over yourself when you were going through your hard liquor phase freshman year of college. There's no way he'd be interested in having sex with the girl he spent many nights holding her hair back as she hurled into her toilet.
No.
You couldn’t ask Taehyung to partake in such an activity with you. Absolutely not.
No way.
~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡
The creaking of your apartment door sent you five feet into the air as the reality of the situation sinfully settled in your brain and the nerves were finally kicking in.
“Taehyung,” you whirled around to face him as his gaze zeroed in as you  shifted your body from one foot to the other, a tendency you displayed whenever nervous. You couldn't fight down the heat that was creeping up your neck as he stepped into your apartment, eyeing you cautiously as he slipped off his shoes.
“Hey is anything wrong, you sounded really anxious on the phone.”
“What, me, I’m perfectly fine!” You responded forcibly, the enthusiasm in your voice misplaced, given the nature of the conversation.
Taehyung simply nodded back at you, not noticing the awkward timber of your words or otherwise not minding. "Well if nothings wrong why'd you call me over to your place at 2am?" He inquired, like the wonderfully kind best friend he was. You pressed your lips together.
"About that, do you remember how you said you use sex as an outlet for your stress in order to maintain a level head, well would you mind having sex with me as I’m a pathetic excuse of a human who has no one else to turn to for my sexual needs." Oh god, there was no way you could ask that. Taehyung was your best friend, and that would be too unbearably awkward. What the hell were you thinking?
“Well i wanted to watch the conjuring 3 again and I remembered that you hadn’t watched it yet so what better time than now?” You swallowed uneasily, a gesture that unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend. Your eyes nearly fell out of your head as the man of the hour suddenly took a step towards you, his eyes unmoving on your face.
"What's wrong? Did something happen?" His tone was suddenly low and severe, eyes running all over your burning face as he searched for any physical ailment. There was something off about you, he realized. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could make out how your form was trembling, your eyes wide in panic.
“Do you want to have sex with me.” You reflexively shut your eyes as you allowed the weight if your words to hang heavy between the two of you it's only competitor being the unbearable silence that lingered in the air not long after. You could hear every inhale and exhale of the tall man that stood opposite you. Every passing second of silence made you regret your words and just as you were about to play it all of as a joke and retract your prior request a pair of soft lips pressed gently against your own stopping you right in your tracks.
Just as suddenly as it happened it came to an end. You could feel something stirring in your chest , the feeling of his lips on yours lingered, radiating heat like an old burn. You turned towards him and the look in his eyes nearly knocked the breath out of you, there was a dark sheen to them, one you had never seen. It was intimidating and attractive all the same, the fire in your belly igniting like never before. Before you could even think to stop yourself, you grabbed the collars of his shirt and pulled him down to you before taking his lips with your own.
In no time at all the kiss got heated as tongue and teeth were thrown into the mix. You feel his tongue explore the darkest depths of your  mouth as you fight back the need for air. His tongue reluctantly leaves your mouth all before licking a stripe across my bottom lip before his teeth bite down on it, hard but not enough to draw blood. You let out a whimper as his teeth finally released your lip.
There was a shift in the room, Taehyung could sense it. He knew exactly what you wanted and fuck if he didn't want the same thing. His entire body was on edge, he could hear every heavy exhale you pushed past your parted lips. "You're a virgin." The whine that came from you in response was low. "I don't want this to be something you regret in the morning.  I can't promise I'll be gentle." He licked his lips.
"Please, I just… just this once," Your words were soft and pleading, the sound of your thighs pressing together in search of relief filling Taehyungs ears. "I need you." He could see your hard nipples pressing against the thin material of your white shirt. They were distracting him, and thoughts of his hands cupping your breasts over your shirts, rubbing your cloth-covered nipple between his fingers, corrupted his mind. How easy it could've been for him to cave right then and there.
Your voice was small and dripping in submission. He felt like he was suffocating in the small space you called your living room. Fuck. He felt himself stiffen in his shorts. You were breathing heavily now, hands trembling as you fought the urge to throw yourself against Taehyung and bury your face into his neck. The mere thought of his skin against yours caused your whole body to shudder in want. When did you become like this. Your thoughts and actions almost made you seem unrecognisable but with the heat of the moment you couldn’t careless. You wanted this and how you wished Taehyung would stop being the gentleman he was and just fuck you already.
Taehyung was already heading towards you as he heeded his last warning, "Do you understand? I need to hear your answer."
“Oh god Taehyung just fuck me already!”  you hurriedly said followed by a deep exhale.
Without wasting another second Taehyung plopped himself onto your mustard couch before pulling you onto him. The sudden movement caused you to straddle one of his meaty thighs which had you quivering as your pussy throbbed from the sudden stimulation.  When you finally got comfortable you pulled the shirt over your head quickly, hands coming to fondle your own breasts, desperate for any skin contact.
You let out a cry as Taehyungs palms found the skin of your hips, urging you to grind against his thigh. You whined rocking back against his thigh. “Mm please Tae, I need your cock,” your own words surprised you.
"Hmm? You seem to be doing just fine without me, though." He cocked his head at you, hand coming up to smack the side of your thigh. A sharp moan fell from you, fingers tugging at your nipple as your hips sped up. Then, to your sweet relief, Taehyungs mouth found one of your breasts, taking no hesitation in pulling the hard bud into his mouth. You threw an arm over his shoulder, fingers floundering as they attempted to find anchorage on his sweat-soaked skin. Your other hand reached out to touch his abdomen, preening as his muscles flexed beneath your fingers.
He pulled away from your breast with a loud pop sound. Smirking up at you as your eyes began to flutter shut, he watched in amusement as your orgasm caught up with you quickly, a result of your heightened sensitivity and inexperience. He would have to teach you later how to refrain from Cumming so quickly.
"Fuck, oh god Taehyung" You cried into his shoulder, body jerking as you came unravelled. Taehyung couldn't help but let out a whine of his own, palming over his crotch as he watched you ride out your orgasm. Although he would never admit it the way his name fell from your lips like honey had his cock twitching in his now too tight jeans. " Taehyung, please." You panted once you had caught your breath, bringing your face up to his. “Fuck me" you managed to pant out without breaking eye contact. Thus lead to Taehyung  unconsciously letting out a groan.
"Is that what my pretty girl wants? Want daddy to fill you up, sweetheart?" The intimate pet name escaping him before he could think otherwise. It should have been no surprise to you that Taehyung had a daddy kink. Nonetheless you could feel a new wave of wetness staining his jeans from the pet name, from daddy, right down to the way his thigh was still flexing underneath your heat. It was all too much, you could feel your senses going into over drive.
"Yes daddy, fuck. Fuck me deep and hard until I'm stuffed with your cum.” You breathed into his neck. Taehyung was going to fucking explode. Every damn word you spoke went straight to his groin, his painfully hard cock straining against his Jean’s fabric. And with that in mind, he flipped you over, pushing your legs up into your chest so that he could see your clenched cunt fully exposed for him.
“You don't have any idea what you fucking do to me, do you? I'm so fucking hard for you, and I haven't even felt that lovely pussy of yours." He growled, his fingers coming down to circle your entrance. You didn't even have time to contemplate a response before his fingers rolled over your sensitive bud. His fingers felt so different to yours – your jaw slack as a silent sob fell out, his light but quick motions sending your back arching. Wrapping a hand against his wrist, you groaned, the feeling nearly overwhelming but still too good to pull him away.
Taehyung cursed as your hand came down to rub against the his cock still retrained by his jeans, the small action just gentle enough to have his hips jerking into you. He felt painfully hard and he feared if you didn’t stop he would bust a load right in his pants. His skilful hands were soon lost to his belt as he hurriedly worked to get rid of the only clothing left separating your bodies. "Gonna make a mess of this wet little pussy, okay? Let me know if you want me to stop." Were Taehyungs final words as he pressed himself inside you, hand reaching over to take yours into his.
A cry left you, eyebrows furrowing together as your head fell back, leaving Taehyung breathing heavily through his nose, jaw tense as he fought back a growl. The urge to sink his teeth into your sweat glistened neck was too much to resist and so he bent down and began showering hickeys over the canvas that was your neck.
The stretch stung a bit but he was able to easily slide into you thanks to your prior orgasm and the help of his fingers. You felt full and content, it was such an overwhelming feeling that when he bottomed out and his groin came in contact with your clit you came for the second time.
Eyes rolling to the back of your head you let out a loud moan that had you hiding your face in embarrassment. You could feel the hot breath of Taehyung as he chuckled from his position nestled between your breasts. After deciding you had had enough time to get accustomed to his size Taehyung pulled out almost completely before sliding back into you. You let out a whine as he bottomed out inside you, watching as his expression changed into a lewd one with your walls clamping around his fat cock. "How's that, baby?" You could only moan in response, nails digging into his back as he began to rock himself into you, entirely obsessed with the way your body was readjusting itself as he moved inside you. It was like your body knew exactly what to do, despite the sensation being otherwise strange.
Your fingers found your clit immediately, knowing that this was exactly how you wanted to cum, dripping down the couch and stretched out around  Taehyungs cock. "So big. Feels so good." You mumbled, your hair cascading around you as his pace quickened, fucking you hard and deep.
You let out an incoherent whimper, shuddering as Taehyungs thrusts into you deepened, spurred on by the way you continously moaned his name submissively. Your thighs felt wet and slick, the combined mixture of both yours and Taehyungs arousal dripping down onto them. You felt filthy and dirty and you were loving every second of it.
You could feel all your stress diminishing right before your eyes with every thrust of his hips. You felt elated, almost as though you were in another dimension, oh how you didn’t want this moment to come to an end. "My pretty little girl. You're making an absolute mess on my dick, isn't that right?"
"Yes, Daddy." You sobbed, body more than ready to succumb to your third orgasm of the night. "Such a good girl." He praised, a hand coming up to squeeze one of your supple tits. Your fingers found your abused clit once more. You circled around it liberally, the familiar euphoric feeling creeping up on you once more. "My sweet little girl. My precious girl." He cooed into your mouth, earning him an appreciative moan.
He was so close, fuck. “Cum in me daddy, I want you to come in me,” you whimpered desperately all in hopes of finally pushing him over the edge. And it seemed to have done the trick because with a final thrust he nestled himself deep within your warmth, a string of groans and curses tumbling out his mouth as he emptied his load into you. His release was the final push you needed to reach your most intense orgasm of the night. You shamelessly screamed as your back arched off the sofa and your body writhed in overstimulation.
"Fuck, fuck. I love you, holy shit, I love you." He peppered your face with kisses, breath shaky. Whether he let that slip due to the heat of the moment or whether those were his genuine feelings he had kept bottled up within him much like you, you chose to just revel in the moment stress free. "I love you more." You sighed adoringly, revelling in such an intimate gesture from him.
Thank you so much for reading 💜
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vidalinav · 3 years
Note
im so happy you’re accepting prompts!! just know that there’s no pressure at all, and that we love your writing🤍 prompt: cassian and nesta talk about whether they’d still inevitably end up together if they weren’t mates and just alot of fluffy sweet banter
I did yours first because I really appreciated you saying that there was no pressure in completing it. I felt that and I thought it was the nicest thing in the world.
BUT It came out really stupid sorry so... I'm not going to tag anyone. However I will own my shame so here you go.
It's banter in the form of pillow talk, where Cassian constantly keeps Nesta up by asking her questions. In my brain, he goes on tangents and Nesta is the pragmatic one. That's like... okay Cassian. But again. STUPID!!!!!
~
“Do you think it would have been me?” Cassian asks as he tries to count constellations in fresh paint. “If we didn’t have the bond... would it have been us? I guess the real question is did the bond choose us from the start--our relationship destined? Or did the bond see us... how we acted and felt about each other, and some cosmic force recognized our love?
Nesta shifts in the bed, her eyes blinking up at him slowly. “Cassian these are not the type of questions you ask right before bed.”
But he has to ask, he always has to ask. There’s something about the darkness that has these questions bubbling out of his throat. “But think about it Nesta, don’t you think we’re sort of... odd.”
Cassian thinks about it all the time. There's no one more perfect for him then her and yet, he sees the way people look at them. His hands will always be stained with blood and Nesta is more fitted for white gloves and lace. And he knows she can hold a sword and fight with the best of them, but Nesta can fit anywhere and Cassian can’t fit.
“I mean I understand opposites attract,” he rambles on, “and we do have similarities, but we mostly fought in the beginning and yet I still wanted you even then. Was my want for you a part of the bond? Or was the bond part of wanting you? And if it’s the first, in another universe, in another time, would it have been me? And if it’s the second what if you hadn’t wanted me, too.”
Cassian turns to face her, the bed creaking as he moves. He watches as she frowns, her lashes casting shadows on her cheek. “I promised we’d have that time, but I never considered that in another life it might not have been me at all.”
It's not the first time he keeps her awake with some question or another.
Usually, she merely sighs exhausted at what do you think the meaning of life is? Does time even exist if we really think about it... Do you ever think about how you can know a person you’re entire life and only scratch the surface of who they are? Does that mean you can never really know a person truly in the first place and if that’s the case aren’t we all living with practical strangers?
More often than not Nesta’s covering her ears with the pillow, groaning while Cassian tries to pull it from her face. They’ve had a hundred and one nights like this. He wants a million more.
Cassian tries to catch his breath, almost wishing she’d groan or sigh or roll her eyes, play it off like it’s a stupid question because it is. he knows it is.
“So tell me,” he says, his words a whisper of worry, “what do you think? Was it always going to be us?
Nesta's brows furrow quizzically and she purses her lips. “I don’t know if you can tell this about me Cassian, but I don’t like many people.”
Cassian frowns at the words, “Is that an answer?”
Nesta shrugs, “I find it hard to believe I would have loved anyone else.”
“So you’re with me... by process of elimination?”
“Or...” She offers, her gaze alight with mirth, “you’re the exception.”
Hmm.
Cassian needs to think on that one.
“But hypothetically, what would you have done if it wasn’t me?” he goads. “We only exist because you turned fae, what if you hadn’t? There may or may not be a bond but the relationship is impractical if you’re human and I’m fae. You’d just get married to some poor bloke who gives you this large diamond ring and you have 12 children?”
Nesta scoffs, “Twelve?”
“Whatever number,” Cassian dismisses.
Nesta raises her hands to stop him, “we are not having twelve children.”
“That’s... a topic for another day,” Cassian waves off.
“No,” Nesta sings, “that’s a topic I will resolve now. We are not having twelve kids.”
“But I want a big family,” Cassian pleads, grabbing her hands and giving her that look that he knows makes her take pity on him.
Nesta rolls her eyes. “You’re head is big enough to fill up the entire house. We have no room for that many people. No. No!”
“The House is four stories. What are we suppose to do with all those rooms?”
“Cassian unless you are birthing these babies yourself in which I will fully support you emotionally, spiritually, and financially, we are not having twelve children. End of discussion.”
Cassian only grumbles out a response.
“And regarding your other question, I don’t know what I would’ve done. That scenario doesn’t exist. I’m fae, you’re fae. That’s it and unless we plan on dying tomorrow, I don’t know if we’d end up together in the next life. I don’t know if the bond keeps us coming back to each other. I don’t care. I want this life with you. I chose you and you chose me and we’re here together. And I guess, if the bond, or what I deem as love, means I’m going to have to answer these questions every night, then I guess that’s what I’m going to do.”
Nesta reaches for him, and Cassian shifts to make room for her. She settles her head on his outstretched arm. It tickles at his skin, but he can’t believe she’s just satisfied enough with that answer.
“Would you have married someone else though?”
Nesta sighs, but Cassian waits for the answer. She groans, mumbling about not getting any sleep.
“Probably,” she says at last. “Yes. If you want that answer, then yes. But quite honestly knowing my character and knowing the males in my town, we probably wouldn’t have lasted long. I would have killed him long before we ever reached twelve.”
Cassian laughs and Nesta brightens at the sound.
“Or he might have run head first into a moving carriage on his own accord. I wouldn’t have judged him.”
“How would you kill him?”
Nesta smirks, her eyes maliciously bright. “Poison... knives... a trip down the stairs.”
“Make it look like an accident.”
“Of course,” Nesta beams.
“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Cassian says, noting his mate’s excitement.
Nesta sets her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along the rough stubble of his chin. “Murder is always on my mind.”
“I should probably stop keeping you up with my questions, then.”
Her lips are impossibly close to his, and he can feel her breath on his skin. “Maybe you should. I’m sure the House knows how to hide a body.”
Cassian laughs, the sound bright in the shadowed room. He’s sure that’s true and her lips raise at his calm shrug of acceptance. His eyes dart to her mouth.
Cassian wants to kiss her, but he has to tell her first.
“I love you.”
“I know,” she says, her lips nearly touching his.
Being near her is a relief. But hearing her speak is something else entirely. Maybe he asks her these questions because he wants to hear her voice into the last moments of the day. At all hours of the night.
Nesta wraps her hand around his hair and tugs.
But another question forms in his mind. “Would you’re family have approved of me?”
Nesta rolls her eyes, pulling away from him. Cassian grasps her arms, pulling her back. “Hey, come on now. You’ve indulged me this far.”
Nesta pretends to think about her answer, and as he waits she looks to the ceiling as if she’s actually thinking about it. Cassian can practically hear crickets.
“It’s taking you this long!”
“Well... I’m trying to be accurate!” She throws up her hands. “You know maybe they wouldn’t, because you’re not... princely. No offense.”
“None taken,” He remarks. Because he knows all too well the differences between them. Cassian doesn’t mind. She’ll be his queen. He can be her guard. Her knight. Whatever keeps her next to him.
“But then again, maybe they would because you are rich--hey!”
Nesta catches the pillow he throws and she throws it back at him. He catches it easily before it hits his face.
“Who hits their mate upside the head?” She yells.
Cassian rolls his eyes, “You hit me all the time.”
“I smack your butt. That is not the same.”
Cassian scoffs, “You won’t let me smack your butt.”
“That’s because you try to do it in public places!”
“Oh, so you’re okay if I tap your ass in private. You trying to tell me something Nes? Who knew you'd like to be spanked?”
Her cheeks redden and Cassian shrugs, thinking about it. "Actually I should've known that."
“I change my mind," She announces, grabbing his pillow, "they’d hate you and you know what? I would marry that man and I’d have twelve beautiful children!”
Then Nesta simply turns away from him and pulls the blanket over her head.
Cassian tries to pull the blanket down, but she doesn't loosen her grip. “Take that back! Nesta, take that back. I’m serious.”
“Nesta!” He hisses. “Nes, I’m not going to stop bothering you. Nesta!”
But Cassian slumps as the lump of blankets stays still. Nesta doesn’t even make a sound. 
“How about I pretend you didn’t just tell me about one of your fantasies and I'll bring it back up later. I’ll even pretend I found it in one of your books."
He rubs at what he thinks is her ass and Nesta shoves down the blankets with a flourish. Her hair is a mess of tangles all over the pillow.
“I hate you,” she says.
Cassian grins, setting his palms on her reddened cheeks.
“I love you,” He says softly, lightly tracing her soft skin with his thumb. It’s a privilege to be near her, to touch her, to be loved by her. To laugh and laugh and laugh. It doesn’t matter how, when, what, or why. “I wouldn’t want anyone else but you.”
Cassian kisses her lightly, “I still think we should talk about those children though.”
He merely gets smacked in the face with a pillow.
~
Fin.
~
I keep reading this and I can't make it better, so.... you win some, you lose some, you know.
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evarcana · 3 years
Text
I See the Moon
Oh when you are looking at the sun
Ev wears some very impractical shoes and learns that she does not know the city quite as well as she thought.
characters: the usual cast of Ev and consul Valerius
words: 2,4k
warnings: none!
notes: I wanted to write something short and sweet to act as a placeholder between the previous part and what is coming next, but I think I got a bit too emotionally attached in the process. The title is from “Be the One” by Dua Lipa and I will leave it open for interpretations.
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Darkness strikes Ev’s eyes as she steps out of the theatre doors and for a moment she is completely lost in time and space, staring at her surroundings as if seeing everything for the first time - the disorientation which comes with returning to reality after the magic of the theatre wears off.
A few myopic street lanterns glimmer faintly and the moon, pitched extraordinarily high, is covered by the ragged organza of thin clouds and barely available to light the streets below. Passing groups of people turn into clusters of dark silhouettes, and Ev watches the collars being lifted and scarfs wrapped tighter, as the theatregoers hide themselves from the wind moist with the cool evening dew and disappear into the shadows, leaving only trails of soft footsteps and animated chatter behind them. It is this time of the year when night falls suddenly and way quicker than anyone anticipates.
The impatient tug on Ev’s arm cuts through the hazy darkness. “Are you going to let me leave or what?!” Valerius sounds desperate in his exasperation.
“Just a moment and you are free.” Still watching the dark street, Ev reaches for her bag and throws a pair of flat pointy mules decorated with golden beads and tassels on the ground in front of her. Using Valerius’s arm for support, she lifts one leg to untie the ribbons on her ankle. Somebody behind them helpfully holds the theatre door open, letting the light out, and they both stare at Ev’s bright red toenails as she steps out of her shoes. Ev frowns to herself and curls her toes - it is hard to be an intimidating opponent when you wear a cute sparkly little ring on your fourth toe, when she feels another tug and catches her breath in surprise, losing her balance. The arm slips from under her hand causing her to immediately crash into Valerius. Well, no chance of looking like a menace now. At least Valerius can’t run away, she thinks, because her entire face is smashed into his chest. “So impatient,” Ev rolls her eyes and tucks her heels in the bag.
Valerius hurries to brush off something invisible from his coat and then looks down at Ev’s feet with cynical interest, “Going on a hike?”
She contemplates telling that it took her a very detoured walk from the palace and four nervous circles around the Town Square to finally burn all that destructive energy her body generated in their morning argument, and that right now she is dying to rub her sore ankles, but decides against it. After all, wounded animals are easy prey. “Looks like it,” Ev says, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She scans the road once again and clicks her tongue. There is a carriage pulling away, two people inside, and another one rolling on towards the theatre, the coachman already waving to somebody, but most of the theatre crowd chooses to walk. They all must be locals, or heading to the closest tavern, Ev realises.
“Don’t tell me, -” Valerius’s voice says and Ev looks up, surprised that he is still standing there, “you don’t have a carriage because you were hoping to find a date to continue the night. You shall forgive me for ruining this little plan of yours.” His words are dripping with distaste.
She realises that Valerius must have been following her eyeline. The nervous lough blasts out of her but she manages to catch it and it turns to sound like a cough. A lucky guess on his part? Or did he take inspiration from his own plans? Ev refuses to think about the whole theatre fiasco. The sinking feeling in her chest has started and she puts her hands on her hips in annoyance. “I thought there would be carriages waiting,” she manages to say.
Valerius arches his brow in response, “...how pathetic.” Ev gives him her best withering look and turns away.
The last carriage departs with the din of wheels hitting the worn edges of the stones. Valerius’s eyes are still set on Ev’s face and his brow begins to crease slowly. He is clearly deliberating something but Ev cannot see it. She is watching clouds moving slowly across the moon. “Where do you live?”, he finally asks.
“By the Town Square,” Ev responds automatically, squinting at the sky above her.
“Not in the Heart District?” It sounds like a genuine question at first but the edge of his mouth lifts in a wry grin. “Didn’t you say I wasn’t the only one with the money here?”
“Too close to you,” she smirks back, “the urge of leaving a dead fish by your gate at least weekly would be -,” she leans in closer, turning her voice into syrupy sweet hush, “- irresistible”. This is getting weird. “Anyway,” Ev hurriedly looks behind her shoulder at the theatre doors, “I think it is going to rain later. Have a good night,” the words come in a flat orderly row, she is already concerned with something else, “I will see whether the theatre director can fetch me a carriage.”
“My carriage is waiting down the road.”
“Mm good,” Ev mutters to herself but then the realisation hits and she turns to the consul, eyes wide. “Are you offering me a lift home?” A ‘thank you’ sign lights inside her head but she crashes it with a wave of suspicion. It’s Valerius out of all people. He has no reason to offer her a ride in his carriage besides plotting to murder her and then ditch the body somewhere in the forest. Ev gives him a hard stare.
Valerius breaks the staring game first - his eyes flash with the new unidentified emotion before he regains his usual dismissive look. “Not home,” he snorts, “to the Town Square,this should suffice for a favour.”
“No no, hold on,” Ev raises her hand in protest. “I haven’t asked you anything yet, and hospitality is not a favour.”
“What hospitality are you talking about?”
“You repeat that it is your city all the time! Technically, I am still a guest.” Inside her head Ev is thanking all the available gods for her ability to just keep talking, regardless of whether it makes sense or not, because she definitely has not processed what happened yet.
“Yes, well, just keep your mouth shut,” Valerius says and walks off without a backward glance, his back soon disappearing in the darkness of the narrow lane.
Ev’s eyes follow his path and then she throws another look at the theatre building. The light in one of its rounded windows goes down. She watches the emptying street and feels the goose bumps scatter her forearms. The air is beginning to chill. She looks down at her feet. Ev decides that the consul is the kind of man who would rather pay somebody if he wanted to get rid of her than being involved himself and for the second time this evening she rushes after Valerius. This is so weird.
She is about to call him out to slow down because the sound of duck feet that her ‘emergency’ shoes make is getting on her nerves when she hears a loud thud and a curse. In the darkness of the path Ev is not sure how close Valerius is to her but she knows that he stumbled and it makes her giggle in delight. She stretches her hand out glancing at the strips of warm candlelight coming from the gaps in the window shutters and the ivory glare of the moon. A small globe of light, the size of a plum, forms above her hand. Its light is delicate and warm, as if filtered through the frosted glass, but bright enough to fill the space between the two of them.
The consul straightens up quickly, “Why -”
“I don’t know about you but I like my toes all intact,” Ev walks over to him. “It’s only a small trick, here,” she raises her hand and the light gets brighter, “you can touch it, it’s not hot.”
Valerius takes a step back, looking at the ball of light suspiciously. “You are full of tricks, aren’t you?” he says.
“Don't even make me start on what you are full of.” She bunches her hand in a fist and the light sphere drops down but, before hitting the ground, it bounces back in the air like a small ball and splits into a dozen of smaller lights, startling Valerius. They hover in the air along the path similar to a garland of lanterns as they walk in silence until the lane ends, opening to the canal, and Ev asks, “Is it your carriage there?”
***
The servant opens the carriage door and much to Ev’s astonishment, Valerius waits for her to get in first. She gives him a confused look but complies. There is no evening chill inside and the cushioned seats are invitingly soft, so Ev’s immediately decides that regardless of what is going to happen it was a good idea not to walk home. Valerius takes a seat opposite her and reaches to unbutton his coat and pull his long loose braid from under the collar. His head rolls gently to the side and Ev sees a couple of inches of the neck, soft lines and the glowing skin. She feels her cheeks beginning to heat, suddenly remembering the warmth and the bitter almond fragrance she breathed in every time she got too close to the man, and gods did she get too close tonight.
This is about as far from the real world as Ev can imagine. The carriage is small and the little triangle of her beaded slipper somehow ended up between the consul’s leather boots. If she was to stretch her leg, the bareskin on the side her foot would brush along his shin. They have never sat this close together. Ev thinks about the old lady from the theatre. How would she feel if she knew that she was the only thin barrier stopping them from recognising each other and fully succumbing to the mutual hostility, claiming at least half of the theatre as casualties in the process. This could have been a disaster.
Ev looks at Valerius again and tries to understand how could she not recognise these features straight away. The signature crease between the dark brows and the sulky mouth. Valerius sits in silence, and his eyes are definitely not the ones she knows. They are so wistful and lonely, and so golden under the lamp light, Ev has to look away.
She puts a hand under her chin and leans to the window. A fine mist of rain has started to grit on the glass, and behind the sparks of its tiny drops - a bridge arches over the canal’s silver curve, both ends of which are clipped by infinity, which, in the dim light of the early night, is only ten feet away. The backdrop is all in flashes of the lit windows and the black outlines of pointed rooftops, round cupolas and slender towers, all together resembling a crown adorned by a single grand jewel of the moon, burning bright white. Then, the skyline and even the moon gets momentarily obscured by the huge wall, deprived of any lights, looking ghostly in the tempered gloom.
“That massive rounded building, what is it?” Ev is surprised with herself for striking a conversation.
“Have you not seen it before?”
“No, I have not really been to this part of the city,” she says, turning to Valerius, “What is it? A hippodrome?”
“It's the coliseum. The count’s favourite place,” he gives a chuckle which sounds bitter. “The man loved... performances.”
“What kind of performances?” Ev asks, watching his mouth twisting in distaste. Something about his look makes her frown.
“Gladiators. Bloodshed which lacked any order or purpose besides the count’s own entertainment,” Valerius rubs the bridge of his nose and glances to the window. Ev cannot tell whether he is looking at the moon or the looming coliseum, considering something. “But it’s not what this place was intended for,” he pauses. He turns back to Ev and the expression in his eyes is softer. “It was built before Lucio became a count, although it was slightly less grand back then. The rituals and ceremonies were conducted there during the festivities and the previous count used to reenact scenes of the famous battles there, using the actors. It brought the whole city together. Nobody wants to remember those days anymore.”
Ev feels a weird tremble inside and she is not sure what has caused it until she realises that it is a strange, unusual affection in his voice. She crosses her arms and seats back to contain the feeling. It’s so freaking strange to talk to him when his face is not a mask of boredom. “Did you use to come to watch?” she asks.
“Only when I had to. As if I would mix myself with the roaring crowd of plebeians. Besides, it was terribly distatestful and the smell inside was disgusting.” His mouth tightens, and a strange shadow clouds his expression this time. “Pointless waste of human life.”
“Oh,” is all Ev can manage. She cannot stop staring at Valerius. There is some kindness beneath this asshole facade, human decency, fairness even. It is not the perspective that she has been prepared for. “I meant before that,” she adds faintly.
“Yes I did, when I was much younger.”
“I cannot believe I have never heard of it.”
“Did you do any research before you came here?” The consul is back to his dismissive tone.
“Honestly? I had other things to worry about.” Ev turns back to the window, suddenly unable to look at him anymore.
She hears an irritated snort from Valerius but then, after a brief silence, he starts talking again, and it is not about Ev’s inadequacy. He talks about the canals named after constellations, traditions which Vesuvia used to have, and what you could find in the city before the plague. His voice is calm and steady, and has this velvet quality to it, which fits the night perfectly. Ev closes her eyes and thinks that maybe if she asked Valerius, as that favour she got from him, to continue his stories sitting by her bedside, she would finally be able to fall asleep before the sunrise.
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downywrites · 3 years
Text
Bird is back, baby.
Phil owns a speakeasy, and the Dream Team needs some information he picked up from his shenanigans.
Dream gritted his teeth, the feeling grounding him in the cacophony of the speakeasy. The bar sounds equally overwhelmed him and drowned out his thoughts, the smell of raw booze burning in his nostrils. He grunted in annoyance, trying to avoid as many people as possible. Even so, a good amount of people looked at him questioningly. He longed to bring in the rest of his team, but he knew that it would cause much more of a stir if he did so. Sapnap never did well with crowds (and especially not in wooden buildings), and George turned heads left and right. He sighed, exasperated. All this just to find that stupid little fox informant that double-crossed them.
 He weaved through the swaying crowd with the ease of a warrior, searching for the bar. Spotting the wooden structure, he moved towards it with purpose, pushing people to the side. The man working the bar frowned slightly. His wings fluttered slightly behind him, adorned with small wingclips and gems that sparkled in the warm lightbulb rays as he moved. Dream looked at him up and down, confirming to himself that yes, this was the man that Techno talked about all the time. The bartender stood his ground, pupils flicking up and down in the same manner. A warrior, he presumed, based on the way he held himself. His kimono shifted as he poured out a drink, flipping the cocktail shaker with ease. He made eye contact with Dream through the eye holes of his mask, taking a bottle from the shelf and pouring out another shot without breaking his gaze. 
“Can I help you?” His tone, soft and unassuming, masked the hard edges of the word’s implications. Dream’s mind translated his body language for him. ‘Who are you, and why are you here?’ “I’m here because I need some information about someone who frequents this tavern. And I’m sure you’ll answer, because this is an illegal business, is it not?” The people nearby the winged man flinched, turning away from him as if to shield their faces. Dream paid them no heed. He didn’t care about their arrests. They were small fry compared to the bird-man with  the powerful aura. 
The man offered him a shot. He took it with two fingers, holding it gingerly in his hand as if it were a treasured gift. He didn’t want to make him feel even more threatened, did he? He didn’t seem remotely phased by the mixed signals Dream gave off, simply continuing to serve drinks. “If you are here for information about people in my speakeasy, you’re not going to get any. Things that are said in the Roost stay in the Roost.” The people nearby relax again, many sipping at their drinks and surveying Dream and his weapons. He pulled out a small vial of a glowing purple potion, placing it on the polished wood with a hollow clatter. The bartender picked it up, swirling it around with the dexterity of an alchemist. His sky blue eyes widened. “This is..Techno’s special brew…How did you get this?” “He gave it to me. I know him, don’t you?”
 His eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t give that out to just anyone. That mask looks familiar...Dream?” At the mention of his name, several people scrambled out of their seats, faces pale like the colors of the sand nearby Manberg. Whispers of his name curled around his ears, making him grin. The bartender made no move to escape nor attack, simply picking up a nearby glass and polishing it with his wing. “Dream it is, then. I saw you once, but only once.” “Then you must be Philza.”
 The man- no, Philza- agreed, bobbing his head slightly. He spread one of his wings, revealing a small wing-gem that shimmered with forest-green light. The emerald’s rays bounced off of his mask, casting a green shimmer of color onto the scuffed porcelain face. “If it’s information you seek, I can give it to you. You have one of Techno’s coveted potions, so you must be of value to him. Very well.” He dug into his kimono, rifling through it and carefully pulling out a small card. He plucked a feather from his wing without a second thought, pulling out a bottle and dipping the feather. The sounds of his newly-made feather quill scratching on the card made him lean in a little. Once he was done, Philza handed him the card.
 “Meet me here after hours. I’ll talk to you then.” Dream looked away from him toward the entrance for a moment. He turned back to see nothing but a small, ink-color feather greeting him. A quiet caw made him look up, eyes widening as a shimmering crow the color of high-quality ink flew around the speakeasy. If he was in any other mood, he would have attempted to find out what that was about. He shook his head. He’d ask the man later. 
“What do you mean, you just accepted a card and then left?” 
“That’s the whole truth, Sapnap! He owns a business, I can’t just hold him hostage during his work hours!”
“I mean, it is illegal.”
“Yeah, what George said!”
Dream was beginning to regret bringing them along to talk with the bird-man. Rolling his eyes, he continued to pace around, waiting for the sound of wing-beats to save him from the incessant blabbing that the other two were doing. Sapnap growled slightly, breathing out a small lick of fire and lightly singing George, who promptly yelped and glared at the blaze hybrid. “Sapnap, you jerk!” Dream slid the mask over his eyes, covering his face and most of his sight. He leaned on the lamppost he was underneath, eyes shutting for a blissful moment of rest. 
Of course, as luck would have it, that was when the bartender arrived. The sound of powerful wingbeats and jingling gems and charms made him sit ramrod straight. Wooden sandals made a ‘clunk’ noise as he alighted, shuffling slightly as he arranged himself. Dream scrambled to pull his mask back to its original spot, waving in the general direction of the noise. A small, throaty chuckle proved his guess to be correct. Sapnap’s mouth hung open slightly, jaw slack in shock. “You’re...you’re Philza?” The winged man tipped his bucket hat, hardcore charm fallign to the side as he bowed. His wings flared out for balance, revealing the inner shades and colors of his feathers and the gems beneath his primaries. Sapnap piped up again, eyes sparkling with his signature mischievousness. “You look mighty fine. Are you single?” 
George and Dream muffled their groans behind their sleeves. “Sapnap, for once in your life, try to be serious. This is a serious matter.” The blaze shot back, “Well, you always end up sleeping in during the serious matters I deal with! Seems fair to me!” Dream scoffed quietly, turning to look at Philza fully. He wasn’t wearing his bartender garb, so he assumed he gave himself some time to prepare for the rendezvous. Just another thing that might hinder their next move. Dream sighed, fiddling with the potions on his belt. They clinked together, drawing Philza’s attention. “I see you brew as well.” “Of course. How could I decide to avoid an entire brand of magic? Wouldn’t be wise, if you ask me.” Sapnap and George were still having a go at each other, so the masked man simply ignored them, deciding to make friends with the new person. “So, are you willing to give us the information we need?” The charms on his hat shifted as he nodded, glimmering and catching his eye as the light bounced off of it. “Depends on who’s asking and what information you desire.”
 Slightly miffed by the behavior of his team, he clicked his tongue loudly. Although the sound of it was muffled by the mask, the bickering hybrids stopped mid-sentence, faces morphing into a more serious look upon turning to face Philza. The winged hybrid took a wary step back, wings flaring out slightly. Dream held his hands out placatingly, tilting his head as to look innocent. “We’re not going to hurt you, we promise. All we need to know is the location of Fundy and other important aspects of his flight.” Philza did not look any less frightened by them. Eyes flicking to the splash potions on their vestures, he hopped on his feet, ready to fly away. “I-I cannot tell you that. Fundy is...valuable.”
 Even as he prepared to ‘escape’, his graceful movements clued Dream into the idea that he might not be intending to leave the area quite yet. He hissed under his breath. The movements that the man was using looked similar to Techno, so if he timed it just right… Philza lunged at Dream, angling himself so he could slip through the gap in between the trio. Predictable. Dream grabbed him by his kimono and threw him off balance, allowing him to fall to the floor without any extra injuries. He hopped away from the man and threw a splash potion beside his form. The fragile glass shattered, leaving the potion all over the winged warrior. Philza struggled to get up, his movements hampered by the slowness potion. 
Not wanting to let him escape, he threw a weakness potion, carefully angling it so it didn’t hit either of his friends. A small gasp escaped the winged hybrid. He collapsed to his elbows, arms wobbling. “You...you tricked me, didn’t you?” Dream shrugged. “I didn’t trick you. I asked you for something, and you said no. I have to get that information, whether you tell me willingly or not. That is the manner of the world we live in. Not that you would know, saying that you have been isolated from the rest of the world in your tavern. How long has it been since you last left?” He glanced back at Philza, expecting a reaction. None came from him. “Did the potion work that quickly? Or- George.” George scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I-I panicked. Sorry.” Sapnap scoffed, arms crossed over his chest. “You cast your stupid sleep spell whenever we don’t need it. You really are the weakest link in the team.”
 “Shut up, you little-” “Enough!” Dream stomped his foot on the floor. “You two have been bickering this entire time! What if the man is a light sleeper? Then all of this is for naught!” Chastened, the two shrank back from his booming voice. “You two need to get into gear. It’s time to be serious. The war is upon us. We cannot fail.” The others nodded, quickly picking up Philza. “Interrogation room?” Dream nodded. He followed behind the other two, shooting flaming arrows at any mobs aggressive (and dumb) enough to challenge them. He muttered softly under his breath, “Philza, I will get that information from you if it’s the last thing I do.” 
Philza awoke to the sound of bickering, much to his annoyance. His head spun slightly, reminding him of what type of potions knocked him out. He sighed inwardly. He shouldn’t have trusted such a shady bunch, especially not when he was weaponless and just off of a shift. Gingerly opening his eyes, he saw a blurry bunch walking around his form. Socks shuffled on the hard wood below the surface he was resting on. He tugged lightly on his arms, warning chitter bubbling up when his movement was hampered by a solid restraint. He risked cracking his eyes open a little more to survey the quality of the bonds. The weaker the bonds, the better chance he had of escaping when the time was ripe. Through the blurry circles of his lashes, he saw the dull gleam of leather binding the closest wrist in eyesight. He smiled to himself knowingly. ‘That’s not going to hold me for very long.’ 
His pupils followed the motion of a blue-clad figure. An assortment of tools clattered onto a metallic-sounding surface behind to the other side of him, making him start slightly. The masked man walked into his sightline slowly. “So, you are awake. Sneaky birdie.” His feathers bristled slightly at the insult. Philza’s voice rumbled deep in his throat as he spoke. “I’m not a ‘birdie’.” He snapped his eyes open, glaring straight at the eye holes on his mask. He stared right back, empty, dark shadows covering the man’s actual irises. The goggle-wearing boy and the bandana man followed suit, staring at the bound hybrid.
 “Like we said earlier, we need the answers. We can’t afford to lose the man.” Dream stepped towards the table, a menacing aura emanating from his person. “So, will you tell me of Fundy’s whereabouts? Or are we going to have to do this the hard way?” Phil’s facial expressions hardened at the sound of his grandson’s name. “I can’t do that for you. I have morals. If he could have seen his face, the winged man would have seen his face harden even more. Lips pursed behind porcelain. Dream’s growl caught in his throat. He gestured towards the others. “Get the tools. Bring them to the table.”
 The duo nodded in tandem, the first thing that they had done together without a squabble since they and Phil had been introduced. Phil suppressed a snarl when he felt an unknown hand caress the back of his wing, pushing against it roughly and shoving the person’s appendage off of him. “Feisty, aren’t we?” He recognized the voice as ‘Sapnap’. Metal wheels squeaked. The rattle of tools on a cart made his ears perk slightly. He strained to hear what the other two were saying behind his back. “...this…..work?” ‘Shhh…...us..” Phil turned his head away from the rather intimidating figure in front of him, refusing to meet his gaze. “Well, you know that promise I made you while we were acquiring you?” Phil nodded, squishing his face into the table’s surface to avoid looking at those empty eye holes again. “We won’t hurt you. We want that info, yes, but not at the cost of breaking a promise. No, we needed to find something that would break you without ever harming a hair- or a feather, in this case- on your head.”
 If the man were anyone else, Phil would have broken the cuffs in a matter of seconds and ripped his mask off of his face. Years and years of dealing with captors can give you as much tact as a hundred-year old strategist in the late SMP wars. But, seeing that Dream was speaking about Fundy, it would be ideal to stay put for now. After all, what the hell could he do to the man? He already promised not to hurt him. He smirked to himself. They had already made the wrong move, and the game hadn’t even started yet. Foolish mortals. He felt sure of his motives, sure of his imminent win, until the familiarly unfamiliar feeling of his boots being untied by unseen hands snapped him out of his egotistic daze. Feathers fluffing, he tried his best to crane his neck and gain a better look at what the two were doing behind him. “W-what are you-?”
 Another hand carded through his wings, making him squawk in annoyance and bat their hand away. “I think that torture is always a good way to force people to get info, but I don’t want anyone on my tail. Therefore, something that doesn’t leave a mark would be good, better even, on someone as willful and prideful as you. And I can think of something that I think most of your allies have in common~” His boots came off, revealing his clawed feet. The sensation of frigid air made him cross them over each other. He glared behind him as well as he could, earning a small chuckle from the blue-clad man. A single finger dragged over one of his soles, garnering a small, almost pithy chuckle. “This won’t hurt at all. All you need to do is tell us, and the tickling stops. Got it?”
 The winged man struggled in his bonds. The sound of the leather creaking dangerously made the Dream Team step back a little in worry. Dream snarled behind his mask. ‘Being uncooperative, hm? I might need to take him to the more secure area if he keeps misbehaving.’ Dream turned to George. “Splash potion, George. Now.” George pulled out a potion of weakness and poured it onto the man’s form. The liquid traveled down his kimono, leaving trails of weakening fluid all over his back and chest. The struggling slowed down to a mere squirming. Philza knew better than to exhaust his strength. He folded his wings back, snuggling them against his form. Traitorous butterflies erupted in the pit of his stomach. ‘They’re going to tickle me? Out of all the different types of interrogation, tickling? Either way, they’re not going to get the info out of me anytime soon.’ Turning his head back to look at the trio, he folded his ears back, narrowing his eyes in a manner that would make most taverngoers uneasy. The only reaction he got was a smirk from Sapnap. He and George returned to their respective positions behind him, hands and fingers at the ready. Dream stared Phil down from his position above him. 
“Anything you want to say before we begin?” The warrior opened his mouth to speak, voice lowered to a mere whisper. “I will not tell you the whereabouts of that man.”
 “Barely a man.” 
He bristled at the comment, but said nothing more. “Very well. Sapnap, George.’ Almost immediately, he felt someone scribble at his soles. He bit his lip to hold in his chuckles, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of hearing him laugh. “Oh, birdie~ why don’t you laugh for me? I’m sure your laugh must be so cute! Or, even better, why don’t you tell us the location of Fundy?”
 “...ngh...n-never.” George raised his eyebrow behind him. “Oh, really? Never? I don’t think that’s true.” George traced a shape into the man’s trembling sole, wiggling his fingers over the other one as well as he could. He whispered behind him, “Sap, go for another part of him.” Sapnap grumbled quietly, but moved to the side of Phil. He dug his fingers into his sides suddenly. “You ticklish here?” Phil squeaked in surprise. He burst into quiet giggles and squirmed weakly in his bonds. “N-nohoho, Ihihihi’m nohot!” “Oh? Is the little birdie getting giggly?” 
The bird warrior’s cheeks pricked with heat. “Ihihi’m nohot a bihihirdihie!” Sapnap roughly tazered the man’s sides, poking everywhere he could to keep the laughter flowing. Phil stubbornly folded his wings closed, even though the whole of his instincts told him to take to the skies. George, realizing that his feet might not be the biggest spot on him, also moved away from his feet. He dragged his fingers from the ball of his foot to the heel, travelling past the foot onto the muscle of his ankle. Grinning slyly, he traced the curve of the muscles in his calf. The resulting increase in giggles made his smile widen even more. “Seriously, your laughter’s even sweeter than I thought it would be.” He cooed at him a little, hoping that being seen as cute would harm his sense of pride just a little deeper.
 The warrior’s mortification cut deep into his chest at the cooing. “Yohohou cuhuhut thahat ohohut!” He thrashed his legs as much as he could, endeavoring to make contact with the person behind him. “Oh no you don’t.” Sapnap’s hands traveled upwards to his lower ribs, scratching at the bones through the thin gauze of his kimono. Phil’s laughter squeaked slightly. “Noho-nohohono! Nohohot thehere, plehehease!” “Oh, is this a good spot, hm? That’s what you get for trying to kick him.” Phil pushed his face into the table, trying his best not to show how much the teasing was getting to him. His wings fluttered against his will, drawing attention to the soft, fluffy appendages. George smirked crookedly. “Oh? Does the birdie want his wingies tickled?” Phil’s eyes widened significantly. He turned to look at George the best he could, wincing at the slight strain on his neck from the sudden movement. “Nohoho, dohoHOn’t!” The blaze hybrid dug his fingers into the same spot again, making the warrior squeak through his laughter. “I see we have a squeaky toy here. Watch me make him squeak!” He poked it again, giggling softly himself when the squeak came out a little more indignant than he expected.
 Dream stood back, watching his friends do the work for him. The blue-clad man wandered to the other side of the table, carding his hands through his shimmery wings. He felt the feathery appendages tremble from his mere touch. “You must be pretty ticklish here. Your reaction definitely sealed the deal on that. The question is, will this be enough to break you?”
 Philza knew better than to answer that. George waved at Sapnap to lay off for a moment, before threading his hands carefully through the feathers. Philza shivered slightly from the sensation, dreading what was to come. The butterflies in his chest and stomach took flight again, anticipation weakening his defense for what George was about to do. He cursed his avian instincts, knowing that sooner or later, something was going to spook him into opening his wings. And if he opened his wings while a warrior like George was there….he closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to think about it.
 The man ruffled the outermost feathers of the wing, admiring its glossy, healthy sheen and iridescent colors beneath their midnight exterior. “You know, your wings are beautiful. Have you ever heard about the tales of the crow? That story is told by villagers to their children. A very beautiful tale, if you ask me.” 
Sapnap rolled his eyes, scoffing quietly. He folded his arms over each other, tapping his foot impatiently. He mouthed at George, ‘When are you going to be done with your stupid tale?’ He mouthed back, ‘When I’ve sufficiently flustered him. Just wait a minute.’
 He continued speaking, petting the man’s wings as he did so. He rubbed a specific feather at its root, watching the man’s entire body shake from the effort of not bursting into sweet giggles again.  “The original story of the crow is that, in his vainness, he put out the torch of the sun while showing off his feathers. The others did not punish him for it, as he punished himself for it by blackening his feathers when he relit the torch. But…”
 He dug his hands deeper into the feathers, feeling the warm, soft muscle underneath. “I think a wee little crow like you really deserves a little more of a punishment.” With careful hands, as to not hurt him, he grabbed at the outer joint of the wing and extended it manually. Philza let him, too flustered and too weak to pull his wing out of his hands. Triumph blossomed slightly in George's chest at the same realization. Once the man’s wing was at full extension, he quickly dug his hands into the feathers, raking downwards through the feathers and reaching the sensitive skin underneath. 
With a burst of energy he didn’t know he had, Philza screeched, arching his back almost violently and squirming with renewed force. He burst into laughter, squeaks and chirps mixing in with his mirthful cackling. Sapnap grabbed the bonds with his hands, making sure the man didn’t accidentally break the restraints. Dream’s eyes widened in surprise at how well it got the winged hybrid, but simply nodded in the general direction of his close friend. “N-NAHAHA, CUHUHU- IHIHI! HAhAHA!” George continued to drag his finger through his feathers, grinning widely again. “Man, wrecking you is so much fun. You’re so sensitive, too! Maybe we could keep you as our plaything if you don’t give us the info we need!” It took all of Philza’s energy to shake his head ‘no’. Tears threatened to spill, crystalline liquid blurring his vision of the table. “IHIHIHI- FIHIHINE! IHIHIHi- IHIHIHIHI’LL TEHEHELL! STOHOHOP!”
 George immediately let up, glancing at the other two. With an air of victory, he walked over to the other side of the table with Sapnap and Dream, acting as if he was the cat that caught the canary. Sapnap glared slightly at him, but said nothing. “So, what were you going to tell us?” Dream’s voice sounded quiet in the absence of the loud laughter that echoed in the room moments earlier. For someone who had lived so many years, it was obvious that Philza still had the voice of a general who could yell through the howling winds of Antarctica.
 Phil panted and wheezed quietly, wings fluttering, as he tried to catch his breath. The Dream Team waited patiently for the man- well, slightly patiently. Sapnap tapped his foot on the floor quickly, anxious for him to be back in the game. George cleaned his glasses absentmindedly, not too worried about the info on its own. Dream cleared his throat, trying to get the dazed man’s attention. The hybrid’s eyes sharpened as he turned to look at the group. He smiled cheekily. “Sorry, boys. The only thing I can tell you is that Fundy is someone that I care for. I cannot reveal his position, not at this moment.” Sapnap, the only one looking directly at him, growled lowly. His eyes hardened momentarily, before softening again, as if nothing had gone wrong in their plan. “Oh, you’re going to get it now, bird man.” Sapnap moved towards the man, fingers wiggling. 
George took a step forward to follow him. A gloved hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. “George.” Bare fingers tapped on his bicep. “Let him.” Dream leaned back, letting go of George carefully, as if he would bolt if he let go too quickly. Sapnap strode up to Phil quickly, jabbing him in the ribs quickly and darting underneath the flowy folds of his clothing. Without letting him get used to anything, he immediately plunged into tickling the man, testing spots and techniques at the speed of light. His rough palms dragged along the man’s skin, inducing chirpy laughter and squirming from Philza. “Oh, you really fucked up by saying that. You won’t get away with saying that scotch-free, you know?”  
Phil replied through his laughter. “Wehehell, Ihihihi gahahahave yohohou infohohoho! Thahahat’s nohohot fahahair!” Sapnap pushed his flapping wings aside to scribble at his back. “Yes, it is! We asked for whereabouts, not why you can’t tell us!” Phil squealed at the feeling of his nails on his spine, going limp in his restraints. His body shook with laughter, vibrating underneath Sap’s nails. “Ooh, a melt spot? No wonder you kept your wings so stil earlier! This spot’s golden!” He let his hands wander all over his back and his shoulder blades, chuckling at the myriad noises the poor man made as he moved from place to place. He traced shapes on his shoulders, grinning when the man hiccuped loudly from the stimulation. “You’re already having a field day, and I’m not even using any tools! And Techno said that you were fearsome? You’re just a cute little crow!”
 The indignant squawk from his remark made even Dream crack a smile. “ ‘M NAHAhat cuhuhute!” He shook his head, wing-ears flapping from a mixture of embarrassment and mirth. “Aww, but you little ears say otherwise! Just look at them go!” The blaze hybrid sing-songed, grabbing one and rubbing it between his fingers carefully. The other one shivered and went almost deathly still. A small trill of happiness escaped Phil’s mouth, a noise that immediately caused him to flush an even deeper shade of red.
 He whimpered in embarrassment through his giggles, shaking his head slightly. “Aww! Look at him, he’s such a cutie. All embarrassed because he likes it when I pet his ears?” He rubbed it again, this time more firmly. Phil folded his wings shut again, relaxing inadvertently into the man’s touch. His eyes closed without his volition, pushing slightly into his hands. Confused, Sapnap looked over to Dream. He whispered quietly, “What am I supposed to do here? Should I keep going?” Dream shook his head. “Let him rest. We can mess with him after he wakes up.” Nodding slightly, Sapnap continued to rub his ear, waiting for the man’s breathing to even out into a deep and slow, obviously familiar pattern.
 Once Phil was sufficiently unconscious, according to his standards, he let go of the now limp miniature wing, walking towards the group of people. “Alright, now what do we do?” Dream took off his mask swiftly, basking in the cool air and the significantly less stuffy atmosphere for a moment. He turned to the other two, grassy green eyes sharp and focused. “We take him to a more secure area, strap him down. Then, we continue to question him until he coughs it out. We don’t have a choice. If Fundy escapes, we are guaranteed to have a problem. Got it?” Sapnap nodded, his bandana bobbing. “Sounds good to me.” George didn’t look too sure. 
“If Fundy is of his kin, doesn’t that mean that he may have a bit more of a reluctance to tell us? I’m not sure that questioning him will be time-effective…”Sapnap scoffed, rolling his eyes. He huffed out a cloud of steam in his eyes, making him put on his goggles to avoid getting burnt. “Look, George. Usually, your ideas aren’t that shitty. But, that’s one of the shittiest ideas I’ve heard to date. Yeah, let’s release this intelligent bird-man who is a bartender to many warriors and informants, who now know our location and what we need! He’s going to destroy us almost immediately, that’s for sure!” He threw up his hands, exasperated already. His eyes flashed with anger, a normal and instinctual reaction. “Ugh! Why don’t you ever understand? We’re warriors of high regard! We can’ just...release him!” He moved closer to the other, steam pooling in his mouth like dry ice in a tub of water. 
He opened his mouth to speak again, before Dream’s mask clinking on the interrogation table gave him pause. “Enough. We wait for him to awake, and that’s an order. No arguing. If he’s awake, he’ll know that we aren’t as strong as he thinks we are. Keep your guard up.”  The cold glaze of his eyes conveyed his own anger. George stepped back slightly from the two, nodding quickly. “Okay.” He turned around quickly, high-heeled boots making solid thumping noises as he walked. “I’ll get water for us.” Sapnap stayed put for a moment longer, red eyes boring into green, before he walked away as well. “Whatever.” 
Dream made no move to counter or argue, simply turning to look at Philza’s peacefully sleeping form. He smiled at him, teeth sharp and yellow from countless washings with blood. “Just you wait, Philza. We will get you to break, whether or not your sanity goes with it.” After all, Dream was one to always have the last word, whether it be in an argument or an enemy’s life. That was always how the cookie crumbles, and it wasn’t as if Phil was the only immortal that he had the liberty to break. His lips curled slightly. “Techno would be proud.” He fished around in his pocket, pulling out a familiar emerald, still dangling on a bloodied chain earring. The hook slid into his own earring hole smoothly, as if it wanted to be there. It swung like a pendulum. Back and forth. Back and forth. 
If you want a part 2, give me a little winky face in the tags ;)
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imagine-loki · 3 years
Text
Midnight Stroll
TITLE: MIDNIGHT STROLL
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One Shot
AUTHOR: mooncat163
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine that you struggle with sleep walking, and one night you manage to get to Loki’s room. The next morning he wakes to find you snuggled against his back, and wonders how you ever got past the security spells he’d cast.
RATING: General
NOTES/WARNINGS: just fluffy stuff, sleepwalking
— —
You’ve been up for close to seventy-two hours straight, copying VHS surveillance tapes to digital in an attempt to isolate and identify players suspected of gearing up for a major weapons heist. Any attempts to make you rest before you collapsed were rebuffed: you were determined to complete the process and make positive ID’s as soon as you could.
“Hey.”
The greeting was soft so that you weren’t startled when Steve came up behind you. He glanced over the monitors before looking at you.
“Hey, Cap,” you replied, and turned your head slightly. “I’m almost done, just have about twelve hours left-“
“That's why I’m here,” he said. “You’ve been at it for close to three days, and you need to rest.”
“I’m good,” you protested. “Jarvis has already isolated footage for me, I just have to-“
“Rest,” he said, firmly. “Jarvis, bookmark where she’s at, but she’s not allowed to start again until she’s eaten and slept.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But I-“ You turned your chair to face Steve after the computer monitors went blank.
“No.” He urged you out of the chair and then ushered you from the room. “Tony agrees, and none of us want you to become overtired.”
You still wanted to protest, but there wasn’t any point in doing so. Jarvis wouldn’t allow you to access the files until Tony or Steve agreed to it, and there wasn’t a way to subvert the AI. You knew this because you’d tried several times, just to see if you could and to see how badly you could annoy Tony.
You had managed one small victory: you’d renamed some of his music files, so that instead of the heavy metal songs he liked to blare at random, Jarvis would end up playing teen bop songs. Tony didn’t talk to you for a week after that, although you could see by the gleam in his eyes that he was slightly impressed by the feat.
Computers had always been your ‘thing’, and you could set up networks and track down problems in record time. When you worked with the electronics, your mind visualized the connections and routes in schematic form, enabling you to pinpoint the failing areas. When it came to analyzing data, you could do so just as quickly.
Steve led you to the elevator, and the ride up to the Avengers’ level was made in silence, then his hand in the small of your back guided to the dining table, where the rest of the team sat.
“Glad you could join us,” Tony said, grinning when you cut your eyes at him.
You sat down across from Loki and Thor, then helped your plate with food as it was passed to you. You offered them both a tired smile, which Thor returned with a wink. Loki nodded, and although he didn’t smile, his green eyes were lit with amusement. A warmth spread through your veins, making it hard to look away from him, but you finally managed.
If only he wasn’t such eye candy, you thought. Or maybe such a snack...a tall, tall, snack…snack-a-licious…
You smothered a giggle that almost escaped, but then strangled on the sip of water you’d just taken. While you coughed into your napkin, Bucky tried to help by patting your back, but his strength knocked you forward enough where you almost face-planted into your plate.
“Bucky!”
“Sorry.”
You composed yourself while keeping your attention on your food. You weren’t very hungry, even though you’d subsisted only on coffee, protein snacks and candy over the last few days. As you began to eat, it became difficult to keep your eyes open. Now that you were still and quiet, the lack of sleep caught up with you fast. The others watched as your head began to drop lower and lower, until your fork clattered onto the plate as you fell asleep while sitting upright.
“Come on, sleepyhead.” Steve scooped you up and carried you to your apartment, where he put you to bed.
— —
Later that night, Tony was still in the common room when you padded quietly on bare feet into the kitchen. You went to the fridge and stared at its contents for several minutes before taking out a yogurt cup.
He watched as you shuffled to a drawer for a spoon, and he started to ask if you needed help when you struggled to open the yogurt, but you did manage to get the lid off after a couple of minutes.
“Are you alright?” He asked as you consumed the yogurt in four large spoonfuls.
You didn’t respond, just dropped the spoon into the sink, and the empty cup into the garbage, and left. Once back in your apartment, you crawled into bed, pulled up the covers and went back to sleep.
— —
Several hours later, Loki stirred from a deep sleep when something woke him. He listened for any movement in his apartment, but all was quiet. Something wasn’t right, though, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
He started to get up, but then realized what had disturbed him: a warmth against his back, along with a bare arm across his waist. To say that he was stunned would be an understatement, since neither should be there.
Loki carefully grasped his bedfellow’s wrist and raised it enough to try to determine who had invaded his space, and he didn’t need three guesses when he recognized the intruder’s bracelet.
Pixel.
He couldn’t help but think of you by the nickname that Tony had burdened you with due to your computer skills. None of that was important, however. What was important was why you were in his bed, and how you had managed to avoid the spells that he cast each night that would alert him to any intruders. It was a habit that he kept, even though it was unlikely that he’d be attacked in his own suite, and he felt a bit uneasy that you hadn’t triggered any of them.
Loki carefully shifted until he faced you, and the movement was enough to turn you on your back. He braced up on one elbow while he looked into your face, and recognized the exhaustion it reflected. He knew that you’d been working hard on the surveillance videos; too hard, it seemed. He frowned at that, and decided to speak to Stark about letting you stay awake for days on end, as it wasn’t necessary since Jarvis could easily help run comparisons.
“Hey, Pixel.”
He brushed hair out of your face before shaking you gently, but you didn’t stir. He tried again, with no success: you were dead to the world. He considered taking you back to your own bed, but an urge for mischief kept him from doing so. He rather wanted to see what your reaction would be come morning. So, he adjusted position slightly so that your head was pillowed on his arm, then he put the other arm across you and pulled you closer.
— —
Early the next morning, well before dawn, you awoke slowly to find that something was very, very wrong.
Your sheets were softer than you recalled, you were curled against someone’s side, with your head on their shoulder, and this someone had their arms around you. Slowly, carefully, you sat up, and the shock when you recognized your bedfellow had you turning toward the edge of the bed.
Loki.
Before you could disengage fully from his embrace, he turned with you, and drew you even closer to his chest, where he held you firmly. You laid still for a couple of minutes, not wanting to disturb him, hoping to escape before he woke. Then you carefully tried moving his arm from across your waist so that you could slide from beneath it.
“What’s the fuss, pet?” Loki asked, sleepily.
“Why are you in my room?”
“Your room?” You felt his smile against your temple.
“My room! And my bed!”
“Are you certain about that?”
Your brow furrowed in confusion while you slowly looked around, then your mouth fell open in astonishment when you realized where you were. Nope, not your room, but his.
“How did I get in here??”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” He asked, while burying his nose in your hair. “How you got in, and got past my security measures.”
“I don’t—wait, security measures? You mean booby traps?” You whispered, aghast.
He almost laughed aloud at that, and would have if your tone hadn’t been so horrified at the notion of triggering one of his spells.
“Don’t worry, Pixel, there isn’t anything that will cause lasting harm,” he chuckled. “So, first order of business: why did you come here?”
“I’m not...oh...cripes…” you rubbed your face with a groan.
“Yes?”
“I’m so sorry...I must have been sleepwalking.”
“Oh?”
“I haven’t done it in years, though...I guess being up for close to four days straight triggered it.”
“I see,” Loki mused over that for a moment. “But how did you get past my spells?”
“I don’t know, I really don’t,” you replied. “Are you sure they’re still intact...never mind, forget I asked.”
You’d backtracked on the question when his arm tightened slightly; you could imagine that his expression would remind you that he was a master sorcerer who was at least nine hundred years in age, and that he would know if his spells had failed.
“I should go,” you told him as you tried again to move his arm. “I’m very sorry for invading your space…”
“It’s early yet, why not stay?” He asked. “You’re delightfully warm.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I should.”
You were painfully aware that your gown’s thin straps left your arms and shoulders bare, and the hem only reached to your knees. There was no way that Loki hadn’t noticed it either, just as it hadn’t escaped your notice that his chest was bare. Thankfully, you could tell that he had on pajama bottoms. Thank God for small mercies.
“I was a perfect gentleman last night,” he commented. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do,” you replied, quickly. But do I trust myself?
Loki hummed softly before he ran his hand down your arm and changed your gown into one that covered you from your chin to your feet, and from your shoulders to your wrists. You were quite sure the thing would strangle you, since you were a restless sleeper.
“Geez, did you raid Steve’s grandmother’s closet??”
“Just trying to be helpful,” he replied with a chuckle, before he changed the gown again.
This time it was a green shirt with flowing sleeves, open neckline and a shorter hem which reached your knees. It wasn’t lost on you that he’d put you in his color.
“Better?” He asked.
“Yes, thank you,” you replied. “But I should go....”
He held you more firmly, and drew his legs up behind yours to trap you further. He was reluctant to let you go now that you were in his arms. He’d watched you for months now, slowly warming up since you treated him the same as anyone else, perhaps even better. He wasn’t sure how you’d managed to get under his skin, but he found himself wondering how it would feel to hold you, to kiss you...to have you.
When Loki refused to let you up, your heart began to race at the implications. Was he interested in you? Or just being mischievous because you had accidentally climbed into his bed? Either way, the proximity to his bare skin had you shaking; it wouldn’t take much for you to give in to his request.
“I’d like for you to stay,” he whispered, before he’d turned your face toward him.
When his lips found yours in a gentle kiss, your reticence flew out the window.
Yes, that did it.
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vintage-writes · 3 years
Text
Six Shots Later Tomura Shigaraki x Reader
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Word Count: 1 728
Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki
Summary: The League of Villains decide to go bar hopping one night and Shigaraki boasts about his impressive tolerance. Impressive indeed, six shots later and he is literally barely able to function. It is now Y/N’s job to see him home safely.
Warnings: None, It’s all fluff. He’s literally an angel. 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dingy hallway stretched forward in a rather bleak manner. The air feels musty. The lighting is terrible. Most bulbs have burnt out already while others flicker insistently. The paint is peeling off the walls and the distinct smell of urine wafted in the air. The apartment building is absolutely disgusting but funds were low and it is rather inconspicuous. The heroes most probably won’t have the stomachs to search the building or will assume the League of Villains would have more class. Whatever the case, this disgusting sack of bricks is the current residence of the most feared villains in Japan, and it’s ironically fitting. The upside to a building this disgusting is that there are barely any other tenants, and the few who remain in the building tend to mind their own business. Which is exactly what you need right now.
“Move Faster!” shouts Tomura Shigaraki, the head of the League of Villains.
“ ‘I don’t get drunk easily’, he says", You mutter under your breath. Yes, clearly Shiggy has the amazing tolerance he so desperately claims he has. Six shots later and he’s stumbling around the street yelling Christmas carols at random passers-by and claiming that they have no Christmas spirit. He then proceeded to wave using his father’s hand, which effectively created a lot of chaos. You are praying to God that no one who saw thought calling a hero was necessary.
Shiggy moves around trying to get more comfortable on your back. Of course, being the girlfriend, you now have to lug him back to his room while everyone else moves on to the next bar. You can now cross, giving a Villain a piggy-back ride, off your bucket list. Shiggy shifts again and yells out more words. You have no idea what he’s saying.
You finally see the door leading into your shared apartment, you adjust him on your back as he flops forward causing you to stumble into the door.
“Babe?” You ask.
No response. Maybe he knocked himself out. 
After fishing around for the key you’re able to get into the apartment, lock the door and enter your room. You shift Shigaraki onto the bed and he flops onto his back. You can’t help but give a quiet chuckle at his starfish shape. Cotton Candy hair framing his peaceful face. The bags under his eyes are still prominent and yet he appears to be comfortable. The air in the room is peaceful, a rare moment for the villain haunted by his nightmares. His chest rises and falls steadily and his eyelids flutter slightly. 
You leave quickly to fetch a wet towel and upon return you see that he is sitting up. He sways slightly on the bed. His clothes are ruffled and his hair sticks up slightly. His eyes are barely staying open as he rubs at them like a child. The soft expression on his face doesn’t quite surprise you, over the past few months he has slowly but surely opened up to you. His soft nature is often overlooked due to his criminal persona, but it’s always there. Tomura never yells at his comrades, always treats them nicely, and remembers small things about them. A memory pushes its way to the surface of your mind. Three weeks ago, Tomura ordered food for all of you while you were out on a job. It was only him at the warehouse and when you got back you were starving. You fully expected him to just order a few pizzas but what awaited you was a variety of your favourite dishes. Not a single person said it out loud, but you felt it. You all came to a silent agreement. This man is an Angel and you would remain loyal until the end.
If the world could see the Tomura that you see, they would understand. You see it, even now, how delicate he looks lying on the bed. You could blame it on the alcohol for stripping away most of his walls, but this person in front of you doesn’t want to harm anyone, he is vulnerable. You take a tentative step forward and lean down in front of him. Crimson eyes study you gently with vague recognition. You take your cloth and gently wipe across his eyes. 
His nose.
His cheeks. 
His Jaw. 
You pause and breathe in slowly. Strong alcohol permeates the air around him. His clothes also look uncomfortable. Although the material looks soft, it is rather thick. Possibly too warm for the night air. In the past few weeks, you have crossed a lot of boundaries ,respectfully, in this room and on this bed. Surely, he wouldn’t mind losing a few layers of clothing for a short while. 
You move to grab another shirt from the cupboard before settling in front of him again. You blush as it occurs to you that your are Kneeling directly in front of him.
No No No. He’s drunk, pull yourself together!!
You clear your throat. 
“Just Breathe”, you remind yourself. You reach for the corner of his shirt and tug gently.
“Tomura? Hey Baby, I need you to let me take off your shirt.”, You say as you tug again.
He throws his back and lets out a weird whine. You freeze and immediately let go. Crimson eyes stare at you again, however this time, it is not gentle. His expression has completely darkened. You lean away from him and watch as he holds up both hands.
“I..”, he says, but doesn’t finish his sentence. His mouth gaping open and closed like a fish.
You hum gently and watch carefully as his words fail him. He looks like a small child about to throw a tantrum. His face twists as his mouth struggles to form words. Weird huffing noises escape him. For a second, you wonder if he might actually lose his cool and yell at you. Perhaps, you overstepped?
“I Have a GIRLFRIEND!!”, He shouts suddenly. The word Girlfriend is drawn out slowly as if he were talking to a child. You freeze before your lips move on their own. A smile has officially wormed its way onto your lips. You swallow hard.
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Even though he is so cute right now. His lips have morphed into a pout. His childlike expression throws you off guard. Your breath catches and his eyes scrunch. How can someone with so many crimes be so adorable? How is he so beautiful? Red eyes glow in front of you, completely incandescent. This villain may kill you by looks alone. You look away feeling flushed.
“Baby, I am your girlfriend.”, You offer gently, “It’s me, Y/N”
“Princess?”
“I’m here”
His eyes light up slightly, his expression calm once again. Until his eyes narrow at you. He’s studying you, you can feel his gaze searing into your skin as he analyses every nook and cranny of your body. His eyes seem half satisfied before he blurts out.
“You’re also very pretty. My princess is so beautiful. She’s stunning. She’s my light. I like the light.”, he babbles. His voice is surprisingly smooth. Your heart leaps forward. He’s going to be the end of you. You suddenly feel the need to hold him. To hear his heartbeat and to feel his breath against your ear while he whispers gently, the sweet sayings that can comfort you in any tragedy. His warmth, that glows strongly in someone that the world has cast away. You reach forward to grab him again but he jerks away again.
He whines again. His hands ball into fists as he raises them. His eyes are wide open. His mouth tilted into a frown. 
“I don’t want you to die.”, he admits softly. 
“You’re not going to hurt me.”
You reach forward again, this time your aim is directed to his jacket but he evades again. He appears more desperate now. His hands are even higher, as they wave around.
“Baby, please trust me.”, you say gently as if talking to a wild animal ready to bolt. He tilts his head and looks at you again. His face blanks. Void of any emotions, his face tilts in the other direction. He huffs out a breath before allowing the faintest smile to grace his chapped lips.
“Ok Y/N, I trust you.” he relents and lowers his arms slightly. The initial wariness has not left him though. You reach again for his jacket and extract his gloves. You gently raise your hand and curl your fingers around his left wrist. You whisper some words of encouragement and slip his glove on. You then reach again for his right wrist and slip that glove onto his other hand. He wiggles his fingers within the gloves.
You burst out laughing at his innocent action. His fingers wobbling about as his face shapes into the brightest smile. It overtakes the room and any uneasiness fades away. He too lets out a low chuckle and throws his head back. It’s surprisingly soft. He leans forward unsteadily and looks you dead in the eye. His right hand lifts ever so gently before running a gloved finger over your head and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He smiles again, this time, it feels softer, more intimate. His eyes have drilled their way into your soul. The glow of fireflies entrap you into his world.
“Now I can’t hurt you.”, his voice flutters against your ear. His breath is hot. Heat spreads across your face and your tiny voice of reasoning begins to soften ever so slightly. He pulls back slightly and your eyes immediately lock onto his lips. Chapped ever so slightly but full and soft nonetheless. 
Shiggy’s head sways forward, forehead resting against your own. Powder blue hair curtains around us. His breath fans against your face, fluttering against your lips. Mouth only inches from my own. Your lips part. You’re ready. Heart Beating. Head pounding. Blood rushing.
“Goodnight Love”, he whispers, before turning away.
What?
He flops onto the bed. Head first and still shirtless. 
Are you kidding right now? He proceeds to bury his nose into the cushions and before you know it, he’s fast asleep. 
Did he just?
Sure whatever.
You climb onto your feet and hop onto the bed next to him. It’s fine, You’ll get him in the morning.
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revengeisourlullaby · 3 years
Text
If I Never Knew You Pt.4
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Pt.1   Pt.2   Pt.3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6
Warnings:18+, angst, secret relationhsip, kinda royal au, arranged marriage plot
a/n: Part 4 everybody! I will be posting part 5 this evening bc this one is kinda fillerish so I don’t wanna leave y’all hanging for too long. If you wanna be tagged let me know! I’m sorry it gets a little bit more angsty before its resolves, but I promise it will resolve. 
Word count: 1.7K
Loki x female!reader
Sun shone through the arches in Loki’s bedroom, the fresh Asgardian air whirling through the room. You rolled on your side to get a look at your lover to see if sleep had evaded him yet. His eyes were still closed, lids flickering back and forth causing a smile to form on your face because you were wondering what he could be dreaming about. 
You returned to your back staring at the ceiling imagining that this atmosphere of serenity would soon be all yours to have until the end of days. Closing your eyes you tried to relish in it for a little while longer, but your thoughts would soon be rapping at your fantasy. Eating away at you with shame, guilt, and unfortunately a heavy dose of fear.
You grabbed the top silk sheet and pulled it over your exposed body. Sliding to the edge of the bed, you hang your head in disappointment. Knowing that in a few hours you would have to fight not only for your freedom but for your love. It was a nightmare come to life but you had to remember that nothing worthwhile in life came easy and if that meant losing in one aspect or another you felt that you could muster the courage to go through with it. You turned your head to gaze at Loki still sleeping and with a snap of a finger, your worries seemed to pale.
He was your strength, your rock, your whole world. He taught you more than you could ever have hoped to learn and most importantly he taught you how to be annoyingly persistent to get the things that you wanted in life. Not to say that you gave up easily but he showed you how to weasel your way into ensuring you got what your heart desired. Life is full of losing but he showed you how to make the best of it.
“Perhaps we should get someone to make you a personal statue of me so you can stare at it as long as you want.”
Loki’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you felt heat rise up in your face.
“My apologies, I was just lost in thought. Didn’t mean to be staring at you as you woke up.”
Loki chuckled, finding your fluster endearing in the situation. Sitting up in the bed he patted the space on the bed where you were laying through the night. You scooted back into the bed making your way to Loki where he wrapped his hands in yours and stared at you. 
A gentle seriousness cast upon his face.
“Understand that by mulling over the situation you dread to confront, you will make it harder in the process to assemble the resolution you seek. You mustn't fear what you fear, but rather take it head-on like a bull. And with the stubbornness you harbor, I know you have it in you.”
You snorted a little extra air out of your nose at his ending comment. Knowing he was always at the receiving end of your stubborn nature. At first somewhat annoying but became something he loved about you in a little time.
“I would run to the edge of time for you Loki. Even though it’s just my childhood home I’m going to have to run in and declare my objections, love, and fears to the people that brought me into this world. It feels like I’m running into a rabid lion’s den, but I would be lying if I didn’t say the preemptive catharsis I’m feeling is liberating.”
You squeezed his hand and looked up at him, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes soft. It looked as if he was about to cry.
“Not for nothing but I always figured I would be alone, especially in a romantic fashion. Then you came quite literally out of nowhere and I never grasped the thought that finding you in that garden a year ago would make that fear wither away. For that, I am eternally grateful to you.”
Your eyes and face softened from its initial confused form to that of warmth and admiration. You even failed to realize the tears beginning to prickle at your water line. Not of sadness but rather pure happiness. At this moment you knew that Loki was the soulmate you were meant to meet in this lifetime. The words he spoke struck a chord within you because you too felt the same way. 
That loneliness was just a card in your deck you were left to bear, but Loki let the hopeless romanticism within you survive the trials of life.
“Eternally yours, Loki. I am eternally yours. Through all either of our falls, we are each other’s stone. Let’s rewrite this acrid end and finally enjoy our story.” Loki’s hands wrapped around your face, looking into your eyes searching for any falsity in your being and he found none. 
You brought your hand up to his face and moved a strand of hair out of his face, allowing for him to be on full display to you. You opened your mouth to say words but they fell off, afraid that they would feel foreign on your tongue. You tried again and Loki’s mouth parted at the same time.
“I love you.” The words echoing from being said at the same time. The meaning ringing throughout each of your ears becoming fully aware that the truth was being shared between the two of you. Loki placed a tender kiss upon your lips and you relished in the sincerity of it. Pulling away you decided there was no better time than the present.
“I suppose I should be heading back home to face the one last hurdle for us.”
“Right. Let me fix your dress for you.”
Standing up from the bed you waltzed around the rail of the bed and found the shredded pieces of fabric that once was your dress.
“You sure you can magic this back together?”
You cocked your eyebrow unsure of the possibility of the repair of your dress. Opening his mouth, nothing but a squeak escaped from his throat realizing the predicament you two were in.
“I may have another idea. Just wait here for a moment.” Loki got himself dressed and left his quarters to head somewhere you knew not of. Before he left he turned his head behind the door to look at you.
“Help yourself to anything in the bathroom and get ready otherwise besides your clothing.”
You nodded your head and waved him off to wherever he was going. Walking to the bathroom you stared at your reflection in the large grandiose mirror that adorned one of the walls. You were glowing. Your eyes actually held something other than resentment and fear. You looked like yourself. 
Something you hadn’t seen in years. Smiling you finished getting yourself ready and when you were getting ready to turn on your heel you heard the door open. Stopping in your tracks you hid in the corner, but soon hearing Loki’s voice you released a sigh of relief. Stepping out of the bathroom Loki had a midnight blue dress draped over his arm.
“I figured my mother would’ve had something she could spare and she did and I feel that it will suit you just right.”
Tentatively you reached out to grab the dress from his hands
“And you’re sure she’s okay with this?”
“Yes darling, she’s the only one besides Thor that is aware of what’s going on. I can’t wait for her to meet you. Now, go ahead and try it on.”
Rolling the dress up in your hands you pulled it over your head and wiggled your arms into the sleeves. 
Letting the dress fall down to the floor after fitting it over your torso you were in awe. The color complementing your skin, the sleeves falling off your shoulders and the gold accents on the neckline was much more beautiful than what you were imagining.
“You look stunning. Well, you always do but especially today.”
“Thank you, Loki.”
You smiled and wrapped your arms around Loki’s neck.
“Wish me luck?” “Luck is for losers, I’ll wish you strength and perseverance.” “Good enough.”
Standing on your toes lightly you brought yourself to his lips and shared what you were to find out to be the last tranquil and harmonious kiss. You pulled away and smiled at him. Bending over you grabbed your satchel and shoes that you threw into the room earlier yesterday. Walking to the door, Loki sped up behind you to open it.
“What are you doing?”
“What kind of man would I be if I let my lady not only walk alone but to open her own doors?”
“Chivalry isn’t dead!”
You smiled at him knowing your sarcasm was endearing. Walking you out to the front of the palace where you came in yesterday you turned to look at him and little worry apparent in your features. You reached for his hand squeezing it in your own in search of some type of reassurance. Loki reached for your other hand and turned you to face him fully.
“Whatever happens Y/N, I’ll always be with you. Forever.”
Placing your hand upon his cheek, you thumbed his soft skin and placed a strand of hair behind his ear. Sighing you found your fire once again and you looked at him. Silently letting him know that you were ready.
“I’ll see you, hopefully, this evening Loki...and hopefully with good news.” 
Removing your hands from each other you walked down the steps and your feet crunched the earth beneath your shoes. Getting one last look, you waved at Loki and you began the walk back to your home. Preparing for the worst but foolishly wishing for the best.
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secret-ssociety · 3 years
Text
Behind the scenes
Pairing(s): Aaron Tveit x Reader, Les Mis (2012) cast x Reader
Warnings: This is just fluff. Like one curse
Summary: It is never intended for Enjolras and Eponine to fall in love in the original story, but a lot of things can happen when the cameras are turned off
A/N: I know everyone is waiting for more of the Let Me Down series but I have wanted to do this for a long time bc I am utterly in love with this man and I've always said I don't want to just write Peter Parker's stuff. Might make this several parts, who knows, I like things with parts.
masterlist
requests are open!!
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For the first time in the whole day, silence fell upon the set of Les Mis, being only vaguely interrupted by the quiet chatter of everyone else who, unlike you, still had energy to talk. It's not like it was your fault, though, you had no idea of how much running around implied to play Eponine.
Huddled in a quiet corner of what had been built to be the Café Musain, you pushed your knees against your chest and hid your face between them, hoping to catch some rest before Tom decided he wanted to do a scene again. Was it maybe two in the morning? Three? You didn't even know anymore, you weren't allowed to carry a watch around your wrist and your phone was charging in your trailer, but the last time you had checked it was midnight and that had been a few hours ago.
Doing a movie, you had come to learn in your first few days of filming, was quite different from putting up a show. Interacting with your surroundings, going over scenes and even directing your eyes to a certain place while saying your lines was a world away from your common place on stage. You'd had to repress a loud squeak on your first day on set when you saw just how real everything looked, and when you started to try on your garments... you might as well have been a street urchin on Paris, 1832.
A small finger touched your shoulder timidly, waking you up from your fragile sleep and making you lift your head from its place. Your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the light and you even had to squint a little to recognize Daniel standing next to you, looking just as tired, but with a small flame of caffeine dancing in the back of his eyes. Who the fuck gave the kid coffee? You wondered.
"How long do you think they'll keep us here?" he asked sitting next to you. From all your cast mates, Daniel was probably the first one you had grown fond of, but then again, so had everyone.
"Maybe not much longer, unless they want us to be here at noon tomorrow," you answered raising an eyebrow. Being the youngest person on the whole set, you could tell he was trying to hold his own like the adults, drinking coffee and doing his best to stay awake.
The problem with that, you knew, was that caffeine reacted differently on kids and adults: when an adult drinks coffee, it gives them energy for a long period of time, the caffeine is distributed in order to serve the body for good while. When a child drinks coffee, on the other hand, the caffeine gives them a rush of adrenaline that gets them jumping up and down and running circles around the adults, very much like Daniel was doing a while ago, thus burning all the energy they had acquired as fast as they had engorged it.
"You want to rest for a minute?" you asked him, stretching your legs so that he could rest his head on them. He shook his head tiredly, but didn't put up a fight when you grabbed his shoulder and started to lay him down.
Softly, you caressed his hair, while carefully trying to undo the tangles the dirt had made onto his hair to give him that street gamine I-live-in-the-elephant-of-the-Bastille look. In a matter of seconds, he was fully asleep, snoring quietly against the fabric of your skirt.
You heard some of the boys approaching, laughing loudly with cups of steaming coffee on their hands, and were quick to lift your finger up to your lips, to let them know of the resting boy that would be quickly awaken by their laughs. They apologized in whispers, handed you the cup they had brought for you and sat around you.
"Helena is trying to convince them to let us go to the hotel," Alistair commented, although he didn't look tired at all, more like he was amused by everyone else's exhaustion.
You sighed in relief against the cup, which was held close to your lips, making the steam hit your face in a warmth that made you aware of how cold your nose was. Only one gulp of the bitter liquid was enough to warm the blood flowing through your veins and take you back to life, you could open your eyes properly and the first the landed on was one of the most distinctive of your cast mates: Aaron Tveit.
Was there something special about him that made you think of his full name instead of just the first? Yeah, everything. He was the embodiment of the Enjolras Victor Hugo had wrote, the one that had been nicknamed Apollo by his friends. Maybe it was the way he held himself, somehow taller than everyone else, with that revolutionary fire in his eyes and walking around the set like he was actually going to get the people to build a barricade.
Wherever he happened to exist, you couldn't help but feel the presence of an olden god amongst mortals, the time go slower and light to travel in a bliss. There was just something so ethereal about him...
"He's talent, isn't he?" Alistair commented, having followed the direction of your eyes. "Among other things," Eddie joked, perhaps having caught on on the repressed smitten nature of your gaze. Stubbornly, you rolled your eyes.
As if saved by the bell, your director announced that everyone was allowed to go and get some rest, under the condition that you had to be back the next day before lunch. You were so tired, you almost forgot you were on your costume, being remembered by Eddie when you walked straight to the exit.
Up until that day, you had followed you stylist's skincare routine religiously every day after finishing filming, but once you found yourself in your sweatpants and Alistair's sweater, you simply poured water in your face and wiped all the makeup away with a paper towel.
Outside of your trailer, you found at least half of the Amis waiting for you to go grab some pizza while forming a wall to shield a newly caffeinated Daniel from your accusatory eyes. "I just left my cup unattended for a second!" George said quickly. You didn't know if you should laugh or yell at them, but you decided you were too tired to do either, so you simply took his hands and walk with the boys to the minivans the studio had hired for your transportation.
Eating pizza after having barely washed the makeup off of your face and only having a few hours to sleep after? You knew you were going to break out, but that was a tomorrow's problem.
Perhaps it was the magic that gravitated around Aaron that made you look back to see him, walking several feet behind the lot of you and clearly immersed on his thoughts. What you did next wasn't exactly a conscious decision, but it felt as natural as if it were.
"Hey, Tveit," you smiled, stopping before him. He looked surprised for a second, since he hadn't heard you approach him, but then smiled softly at you.
"Hello, Y/L/N," he said back, looking at you with those piercing eyes of him.
"We're going to grab a bite, wanna come?" You asked with a bright smile, one so cute that made it hard for him to say no.
"I don't know, it's late..." he said with half a smile.
"Did you know that pizza wasn't invented until the late half of the 18th century," you said, persistently, making him raise an eyebrow at the random fact, "that means all of our characters died without having ever eaten pizza. Shouldn't we, in order to honor them, do the things they never got to do?"
Aaron tried as hard as he could to fight back a smile at your argument. He had heard from the other guys about your occurrences and funny yet charming way with words, but he still hadn't had a chance to delight himself with it all too much. Maybe you were both too busy, maybe he wasn't as good as he liked to think to break the ice and Alistair had beat him to it.
He was practically convinced already, but still you added, "come on, Enjolras is still going to be here tomorrow morning... er, today a little less morning." You corrected checking the time on your wrist watch.
He was tired and not really hungry, but sill he nodded and followed you to the exit, where the rest of your friends cheered upon his joining.
Thankfully, the place Fra Fee knew was not too far away from the hotel, because none of you would have managed to walk too much after the day you'd had. Pulling a couple of tables together with the help of a waitress who pretended not to be a little starstruck, all of you sat down and ordered. You personally tried to ignore the way Eddie gave you his sit so that you would end up sat next to Aaron.
After ordering three large pizzas and some lemonade, and having grudgingly remembered that you couldn't order a beer or anything of the sort, you resumed your chattery. You soon found that, while you weren't the only theatre actress on the room, you were the only one who had never been on a film before. Still, that didn't mean your previous work had gone unnoticed.
"I was really excited to meet Y/N," Eddie commented on Daniel's side, "because I went to see her in The Phantom of The Opera, in London and I was" he made the gesture of his head blowing up, making you laugh.
"Yes, I knew I had seen you somewhere! You're Christine Daaé!" George exclaimed, interrupting the bite he was about to give to his pizza.
"Didn't you say on the first table reading that your dream role is Esmeralda, from the Hunchback?" Aaron perked up, making you blush a little.
"Esmeralda, Christine and Eponine," Alistair numbered, only giving you time to nod, "are you planning on becoming the Holy Trinity of French Theater?"
"I'll be able to say the Holy Trinity of French Theater died in my arms!"
You almost spilled your lemonade at the exclamation, unable to contain your laughs, very much like everyone else on the table. You didn't mean for your face to be as red as it was in that moment, but you couldn't help it when everyone seemed to be so interested in your past work. Despite attention being your line of work, you didn't know how to handle it that good.
It was when Daniel's adrenaline burnt off, as you had predicted, and he was found too tiresd to even keep his head up that you came back to the hotel, with the quiet company of Aaron, who had also offered to take the young boy back to his room. You were both in silence, though it was not an awkward one, it just wasn't necessary to talk to enjoy the other's company.
"We're getting a cow," he said suddenly, when you were approaching the entrance of the hotel.
"What?" You asked with a confused smile.
"We're getting a cow, on the set, tomorrow," he clarified grinning, "she will be there for the scenes of the barricade."
"Why would a cow be on a barricade?" You questioned with a laugh, opening the door for Aaron, since he was carrying Daniel, and receiving a little thank you in return. "Not that I'm complaining."
He laughed in return and followed you to the elevator, making sure neither the young boy nor the jacket he had put over him fell from his embrace. The cow thing had just been to start conversation and be able to ask what he really wanted to know, although he was a little pumped up about the cow.
"Do you want to do what Alistair said?" He asked curiously, "About being the Holy Trinity of French Theater, it is."
"I had never thought about it that way, but it sounds quite nice," you answer thoughtfully. "Though, I believe I would have to play Eponine on a stage, rather than a set to really earn that title."
"You're not liking movie making so far?" He asked somewhat amused, specially when you whipped your head to look at him with wide eyes.
"No! That's not what I mean," you talked so fast you nearly stumbled through your words, but the kindness on his eyes made you sigh and calm down. "This has been amazing so far and I would never underestimate the huge effort it takes to make one of these. I mean, I've only been doing this for a couple days and I'm already beyond exhaustion. And yet it has been wonderful, the set and the preparation and just seeing all the work it implies is... unbelievable."
You knocked three time on the door, to see Daniel's mother not two seconds later. Aaron had been worried that maybe she would be concerned and even a little mad at how late her son was coming back, but you had been texting her throughout the extra hours of shooting and to let her know you were going to take him to eat something before coming back to the hotel.
She kindly thanked you both, took Daniel (who was still sound sleep) on her arms and gave Aaron his jacket back, to then close the door. Without saying much, he walked you to your own room, prompting you to continue.
"Where was I? Oh, yeah! So filming a movie is... I'm running out of adjectives, but it's really great," he chuckled slightly, "but I don't think it can top the feeling of being on the theater," you sighed dreamily.
"On stage, there is no take two, the things you're doing can only be done once. There's..." your tongue ran through your lips, an action Aaron found almost mesmerizing, as you tried to find the words to describe the thing you loved the most in the world. "There's this feeling, when the show is about to start, the lights dim, the overture starts and you get goosebumps and you heart starts thumping at the moment you come on stage, there's something about that moment being unrepeatable and having the eyes of the crowd on you, the adrenaline is just... is like the identity line that divides the actor from their character disappears and in that moment you're not quite them, but you're not you, you're just..." you let out a breath at the inability to find the word and, for a moment, you worried you might have bored him with your rambling, but he had that bliss over his face, the one only a theatre actor knows and has, that told you he knew exactly what you're talking about.
The next morning, back on set and with your costumes again covering your backs, Aaron found himself so hypnotized by the sight of you rehearsing with Amanda his tea got cold and was utterly scared when Eddie's palm fell onto his back, dragging him out of his day dream.
"Is this the part when the Phantom is stalking Christine?" George asked jokingly, making Aaron roll his eyes.
For someone who made so much fun of him for becoming Enjolras, he had certainly developed Grantaire's mocking nature.
"She's really talented," the blonde man answered nonchalantly, drinking from his tea and making a face when he found out the drink was cold.
"I see," Eddie said handing him his tea, "are you seeing our dear Y/N under a new light?"
Was he? It would be a lie to say he didn't come back to his room with you occupying every single one of his thoughts, his heart fluttering who had managed to put his passion for theatre in words. Had his hands always became a little shaky around you? Yes. But today it was even worse.
Today, your voice giving life to Eponine's thoughts and emotions could make his cheeks blush or bring tears to his eyes in a matter of a second. Today, you walked around with a strange light over you, one that didn't allow him to look away while, at the same time, reprehended him for staring. Today, you were more than an artist, an actress. You were something more than human.
"Nonsense," he replied stubbornly, "I have always known how talented she is."
Before he could get a sarcastic comment or a snide yet friendly remark, the three men's chatter was interrupted by the two previously mentioned ladies rehearsing The Robbery, one of the scenes you planned on filming that day.
"It's the police! Disappear! Run for it!" Your strong soprano voice cut all chattery in one swift motion. "It's Javert!"
He probably held his breath for as long as you held the note. Once you opened your eyes, you seemed a little embarrassed at all the eyes on you, but Aaron didn't understand just what did you have to be embarrassed about.
Eddie shook his shoulder, "breathe, mate!"
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kakashi-tsukuyomi · 3 years
Text
In Your Warmth
A/N: Okay, I made a quick, short fic on this scenario I was imagining a while ago. I couldn’t get it off my mind so I knew I had to write it down. Hope you all like it! (Also a warning: it’s actually very self-indulgent, and I might have inserted myself a bit LOL). This wasn’t beta-read, sorry! Please be nice T_T
Kakashi x FemReader, Canon Universe (After the war, maybe?)
Warnings: none
Fluff, fluff and more fluff, First Kiss, Kissing
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The sun bathed the sky with a warm, brilliant orange tint, and it turned everything it touched inhabiting beneath the heavens with the same hue. It made everything look beautiful, and because of it, it had made the village you had always loved and known more endeared to you. The sun’s warmth made it look like a setting from a movie -- the place being more warm, inviting and cozy than it already was. It casted a warm glow on both of your clothes and skins, causing you both to fit in the movie scene, and if only you weren’t aware that this was reality, you would have thought it actually was.
As you walked side by side, your hand accidentally -- although much to your delight -- brushed against his. The growing warmth in your face doubled the heat you felt caused by the sun. You thought if this had affected him, too. You couldn’t really tell from the cloth covering half of his face, but as you stole a glance, the soft, contented look on his eyes told you it did.
You didn’t know how it started, but you just felt it grow, anyway. The harmless admiration that had turned into unrequited infatuation for quite some time eventually turned into mutual respect. It slowly progressed into fondness and sympathy, which lately blossomed into understanding and affection. It had grown deep. You couldn’t describe it, but you just knew. You knew he did; you both did. It was never spoken between the two of you, but you knew it was there. At times you might have doubted if it was reciprocated, but when he invited you for a walk that late afternoon with just the two of you alone, quickly the doubts had wholly dissipated.
It was a nice day, and he wanted to watch the sunset. Maybe you wanted to take a walk with him, he had asked. He just came home from a mission earlier that afternoon, and even though you initially protested that he rest at home, he smiled and assured you he wanted to unwind with you instead. As you both passed by Izumo and Kotetsu sitting behind the guard post, they acknowledged you both, waving cheerily and giving Kakashi mischievous looks and a playful salute. You couldn’t suppress your giggle as you notice a blush forming on his exposed skin.
He led you to the edge of a forest just outside the village. You noticed there were a few benches installed along the way, but there weren’t anyone else in the place besides you two. It was an unpopular place, he said, and only a few people ever stayed much there. But the view in the late afternoon was beautiful, and he had always spent most of his afternoons here. You wondered that in the long time that you had known each other, he had never shown you this place before.
You both stopped by the bench, and with a smile, he motioned for you to sit down. You took your seat, and he sat beside you, a bit too near for comfort yet still providing a considerable distance between you two. From the corner of your eye, you saw his hand rest on top of the backrest, and you could feel the fabric of his sleeves barely touching the skin on your neck. You weren’t sure if it was an invitation, but you felt the atmosphere change. You didn’t know if it was just the warmth that the setting sun emanated, but everything felt so cozy, and you scooted over next to him, resting your back against his side and your head on his shoulder. You felt his body suddenly turn rigid, but you continued to gaze at the view before you, settling comfortably against his body. Eventually, you turned your head to look at him, and you saw him staring at you as if he didn’t know what to do. You gave him a tender smile, and you felt his body relax, his eyes returning your tender gaze and his arm behind you finally curling around your shoulders.
The sun was now setting lower, and the view before you was sublime. There was now a red tint added to the orange hue of the sky, and the sun blazed majestically on the horizon. You marveled at the scene’s beauty, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of content.
“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, enamored by the view before you.
“Yeah. It is…” you heard him softly say, and if only you weren’t too engrossed with the scenery, you would have caught him looking at you instead of at the sky.
Pleasant thoughts were suddenly cut short as you felt fabric barely touching your cheek. You froze, and through the fabric, a warm breath caressed your skin. Both of you didn’t move. Time passed for what seemed like an eternity, until finally, you felt the fabric touch your cheek, accompanied by what felt like warm lips hiding behind it.
It lingered for a while on your skin until you felt it pull away from you. You moved your head slowly and turned to look at him, moving to settle more comfortably on his shoulder. There was now only a small distance between your faces, and for a long moment, you were both staring at each other’s eyes rather intensely.
After a while, his eyes searched your face, looking for signs of hesitation. You wished he would just return his gaze at you, and when he did, you held his gaze piercingly, making sure to communicate your feelings of longing and affection. He took this as a sign of affirmation, and as he leaned in closer, he slowly pulled down his mask. You heard yourself softly gasp at the sight, but he didn’t give you more time to take in the view as you felt his warm lips pressed against yours.
He moved his lips delicately… softly, as if he was afraid to break you. His kiss was tender yet firm, with a gentle authority as if to say that you were his, and he was yours. His palm rested in between your jaw and cheek, and he cradled it ever so gently. You reciprocated the kiss just as tenderly and sweetly, and you found your hand trailing towards the back of his neck, softly grabbing the hair just above his nape. He let out a soft, content sigh against your mouth, and you felt his hand tenderly hold your waist, and with your other hand, you did the same to his.
You broke away from the kiss and smiled against his lips. So you were right, he did return the feelings, after all. You knew there was a mutual understanding even before, but you couldn’t help but feel elated at this culmination of your mutual pining. It always felt like he was so hesitant before, and you knew that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. But you never really pushed him nor pressured him into acting. With everything that had happened in his life, you knew he deserved to have time and space to think about everything. And you waited for him patiently, and with that unwavering patience, you were rewarded so greatly.
“Why did I wait this long?” he murmured against your lips, and he moved them again, placing another sweet kiss on your upper lip, slowly moving downwards towards your lower lip. You couldn’t help but giggle, and you pulled away just slightly, staring tenderly at him. You took in the sight of his face -- his perfect nose, his thin yet soft lips, the scar that ran down to his cheek, and the adorable mole on his chin. You cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb grazing his skin. You had always thought he was good-looking even with the mask, but you never imagined he could be this handsome. You continued to stare at his face, and as he watched you, his lips curved into an amused smile.
The sun had nearly set fully in the horizon. Indeed, he was stupid to have let it drag on, you mused to yourself. And yet you knew that you were more foolish. Deep inside, no matter how long it would take him to confess, you knew you would still wait for him. And if he had asked you again to wait a little bit more, you knew you would. Perhaps, it was a fault; you had always loved him. There was really no one else but him.
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