#these calculations) but like. at least it will not lead to me failing the whole class yknow WRDJFN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 2 months

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Ok, i got one. AU where Lost Boys the movie exists, inspired by those events actually occurring in the 80s. So it'd be like 12 & 13 with reader x Marko? Maybe the reader's a serial killer or something dead like a Ghoul or Zombie, and after a showing of Lost Boys in Santa Carla, they take a soon to be victim to the cave, and then end up just fucking the victims shit up. Little does the reader know, the cave isn't a abandoned as they had thought, and Marko falls in love the second reader disembowels the guy.

(Not me hitting post instead of edit😅) Thanks so much for the request! It got a bit darker than i expected, but it was an interesting one to figure out, so I hope you'll like this as well!💜

12. "I shouldn't have seen that movie..."

13. "Did you know this cave is haunted?"

----------------------------

I smiled as the familiar sounds of Cry Little Sister blared through the sound system, echoing over the beach. At least a hundred people had gathered here to watch the movie, and I couldn't be more pleased. You see, in my profession, it was of utmost importance to stay inconspicuous. Stay invisible within the crowds, stay out of sight whenever someone was looking for something - or rather someone. And, above all, have a good eye. It takes skill to know how certain people will respond when you first approach them. To calculate their next moves. If you fail in approaching the right person, you're whole job is going to be ruined.

Luckily, I was good at what I did. So, with two beers in hand, I smiled at a guy in his early" twenties. He seemed carefree, easy going - the perfect type.

"Mind if I sit with you?" I asked sweetly, offering a beer as an exchange for the favour, and as a conversation started.

"No, no, pretty ones like you can join me anytime," the guy winked, causing me to grin. Yeah. He would do perfectly.

We sat together the whole movie, chatting and laughing, and when the movie came to an end, I knew I had the guy wrapped around my finger. It had been easy. Agree with him, initiate some physical touch - and here he was, willing to follow me anywhere.

As he helped me up, a wonderful idea popped into my head. "Do you want to check out the caves?"

"Wait, they're real?"

I nodded. "Not too far from here. It's supposed to be pretty secluded," I said with a wink, causing the guy to grin and readily agree.

Together, we walked over the beach and through the forest - it was not very far, just 3 miles or so, but far enough to tire a guy like him out for just a little bit.

"Can we stop for a bit?" He asked, out of breath, as we reached a clearing. I shook my head, pointing at the 'do not enter' sign.

"There's no need, we're here."

"It says not to enter."

I nodded. "So?"

"I- listen, I like you, a lot and I would love to do more but - I don't think this is my thing?"

I smiled. "Sorry. I should have clarified what I wanted first. We don't have to do anything, but I would love it if you joined me if we went to explore that cave."

"Just exploring?"

"Yeah. The second we see something that's off, we're out of there. I promise."

The guy thought for a moment, sighing deeply before nodding. "Alright."

I grinned, taking his hand and leading him down the stairs. He didn't need to know that I had been here several times before during the day, exploring to see whether this would be a good secondairy location or not. Needless to say, I declared it to be a good one.

"Did you know," I stated as we stood at the cave entrance, " that this cave is haunted?"

The guys eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"That's what they say anyways. They also say that there are actual vampires here, but we both know that that's bullshit, right?" I grinned. Who knows whether or not they existed, as far as I could tell, they weren't living in the cave.

"I- I am not sure about this -" the guy began again, and by now, I had to admit that I lost my patience. So, with a gentle nudge, I pushed him inside. He screamed as he rolled through the entrance, falling on the floor several feet below. I heard a loud, sickening crack, and I knew that his leg had broken when he cried out. Easily, I jumped in after him, landing on my feet next to his body.

"What did you do that for?"

"What?" I asked innocently, ignoring his terrified expression. "You're not really telling me that you're scared?"

"What if I am, hm?" The guy asked. "I never should have seen that movie..."

"That we can agree on," I crouched down beside him, taking a sharp knife out of my coat pocket. "If you hadn't been there, I wouldn't have picked you up."

"Wh - what are you going to do?"

"Me? I'm going to have some fun. I've been told I need to study up on my biology. You are my practice material."

"What?!" The guy paled. "You can't do this! You- HELP, SOMEBODY!"

"No one will hear you," I smiled, "I thought I told you this place was rather secluded, hm?"

"Let me go, you freak!"

I chuckled, swiftly moving my knife down, cutting his hand off in one swift movement. The guy screamed and cried, bleeding all over the floor as he tried to crawl away. Lazily, I walked after him, my foot landing on his back, stopping him in his crawl.

"Turn over."

"No!"

"Don't make me turn you over. You'll regret it."

The guy weakly turned, laying on his back. "Good boy," I said before kneeling down on top of him. I talked to him while I acted, explaining how I would drag my knife from his throat all the way to his navel, how I would slowly but surely take every single organ out. The more I talked, the deeper I cut, the quieter his screams became. In the end, all that was left was an empty vessel, the insides spread around the cave.

I stood up, ready to go outside, when I saw a young man staring at me. He looked at me, not with fear but with admiration. A childlike wonder. "You did quite a number on him."

I shrugged. "He had it coming. Who are you?"

"I'm Marko. What did he do?" I looked at him, trying to determine if I would tell or kill him. He was handsome, but somewhere behind his cool look, I knew that I was no longer the only killer in the room. There was something about him.

"Besides annoying me with his existence? He sold drugs to some middle schoolers."

"So, do you avenge people often?"

"Why do you ask?" I looked at him, my knife still in hand. He grinned.

"Because after seeing this, I think I'm in love."

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #tlb #dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys x reader #lost boys #dark fic #tlb x reader

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averygayplant · 1 year

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You guys ever think about how Zane's whole tyrannical genocide arc might have been a good thing for him?

No no no, wait, where are you going-? AT LEAST HEAR ME OUT-

Zane is one of the most complex characters of the entire show, and it's largely because he's literally the reverse of "you don't have to be a mythical beast to be a monster". No, Zane proves that you don't need to be human to have humanity, which is a subtle, overarching theme throughout the later seasons of the show that I'm choosing to believe is entirely intentional and not a side effect of Garmadon being Lloyd's endless migrane.

Anyway, where I'm going with this is that a very crucial part of who Zane is obviously connects to the fact he was built instead of born, and specifically created to protect those who can't protect themselves, an objective he's never failed to complete to the best of his ability. It's heavily implied and even indirectly stated that the reason he's so firmly attached to this directive is because it's the very essence of his code and function, and by extension, his sense of self. It's seen, even if largely just in offhand jokes, that his code has a very powerful influence over his choices and courses of action throughout the entire show. Sooo, how does this lead to me suggesting that the genocide he committed that is never talked about again except for in throwaway gags was actually good for him? Well, it wasn't, obviously, good for his mental health, but it was an important development of his character, and it didn't go to as much waste as I once believed. Think back with me, if you would be so kind, to the infamous mirror episode, when Nya, Zane and Lloyd were breaking and entering and bullying a hospitalized man.

We all know that Zane commented on how his worst fear was having his humanity stripped from him, to become nothing but cool, calculating code. We also know that it was subtle-not-so-subtle foreshadowing for the Never Realm bullshit. Here's the thing- Zane's code specifically dictates that he won't harm others unless it's to protect. So, if wiping his memories had stripped him down to his code, then... what would have changed? It's here where I would like to introduce the idea that over the course of the show, Zane's original code was overridden by him developing his own core values and following them with just as much vigor. Sure, his objective remains the same, protect who cannot protect themselves, but instead of being a core part of who he is because that's how he was designed, it remains a core part of who he is because it's who he chooses to be. Dr. Julian's code was replaced by his own little by little- so when his memory was wiped, there was simply nothing there. The only evidence left of his original instructions was what he remembered, and chose to follow of his own free will.

To summarize and organize my thoughts, the Never Realm was a lot of new and unexplored levels of fucked up and caused a lot of questions begging for answers- but weirdly, it also wrapped up a character arc that's been slowly building since season 1.

From now on, Zane is who he is purely because that's who he chooses to be, and even though it puts him at a huge disadvantage, he chooses to be human.

#ninjago #zane ninjago #zane julian #never realm #ice emperor #secrets of the forbidden spinjitzu #that moment when you accidentally go off lmao #this is important to me okay #Zane's journey of self discovery is really close to my heart #character analysis #lance rambles

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thewriterowl · 2 years

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A lot of people think that Luke Skywalker is a cinnamon bun and is actually really a cinnamon bun, but I want to speculate a bit. I think this is not so, because he actually looks like a cinnamon bun, but if you take the wrong step towards him, or even worse, start threatening his loved ones, he will kill in cold blood without blinking an eye and won’t even remember you in a couple of minutes . Because he went through the war, he did not have time to leave his farm and after a couple of hours he blew up the whole battle station, and I'm sure if some Imperial could get through to him and ask him not to blow up the death star, he would simply answer "you the first ones started, if not now, then you will continue to kill, sorry", he gives an account of his actions, he understands that he is the son of Darth Vader and probably all the same the son is a bit like his father. It's just that his murders are not committed without any meaning and purpose, like his father, no, he is not like Vader, he will never cause even the slightest harm to an innocent person, on the contrary, he will easily give his life if necessary. But if you go against him, then it will turn out to be a fatal mistake for you, because in most cases, Luke will simply not stand on ceremony with you and you will die.

And by the way, Din thinks it's a very sexy bonus, why it's good to be married to Luke Skywalker, because in Mandalorian culture, the main thing is to protect your spouse, but Din can't help but go crazy that his short husband is so cute, just a cupcake with sugar, but when others see him, they see Luke's not-so-cute side and it's so scary that they even try to kill themselves just to avoid falling into his hands (reference to Gideon)

The thing I love about Luke is that he is both. he looks like a cinnamon roll and is a cinnamon roll...who also happens to be able to kill you.

He is a legend. A myth. A nightmare to many, even on his side. He is a literal one-man army and (especially within Legends) seems to be just shy of being an actual god. He is protective, precise, composed, and firm when he needs to be. The man is a killer and one you do not ever want to meet if you are on the wrong side. At least, you can take comfort that he will make it mercifully swift..despite having all the power to make it not so.

It's that big thing about Luke for me. He is naturally a good person, yes, like he is a ball of sunshine and a sweetheart on his own...but he makes so many conscious choices to be a good person. He could do so much damage, ruin so many lives, he could be worse than Palpatine and succeed where he failed...but doesn't. He doesn't want to. And even if he feels the temptation of the Dark side, he chooses to not embrace it and continue to be in the Light.

Do I make him sometimes too squishy? Yeah, it's fanfiction and fun and I will continue to do so. But he is a sweetheart and super kind--it is one massive reason his character failed in the sequels because they lost that essences of who Luke is and the choices he has made all his life. Luke, without a doubt (has done so many times and will continue to do so) will always choose to be kind over any power.

Just so happens, he has both and can kick ass while also being Baby(Tm)

But yeah, his dynamic of being a terrifying warrior to lead Moff Gideon going panicked mode after two seasons of being a calm, calculating ass and ready to off-himself at the mere idea of facing Luke (despite the fact Luke wasn't interested in him at all) shows a lot of what the Empire sees in him.

He is the man who destroyed their own god, after all.

So yeah, that would be hella hot to Mandalorians.

#owl inbox #luke skywalker #dinluke

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ferretoats · 8 months

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(THE TITLE IS GONE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BRING IT BACK) [Okay so this unintentionally turned into a mini essay(can I call it that?) about my experience with Undertale and video games in general- Is this how I am suppose to use Tumblr?]

Going back maybe around the year of 2015 or 2016 (I was 11), my brother showed me a video clip of what looked like an image of a calculator attached to a vacuum chasing after a child.

Younger me: "I guess math is scary?"

Of course I didn't know it at the time, but that calculator was a character from the game called Undertale.

Some time in December my siblings sat me down on our living room couch and then made me play this game with a controller (I mained keyboard and mouse). They guided me through a pacifist run, a play through of the game where you do NOT kill anything and you better swear to not even look at that FIGHT button or else- Or well at least that was how it felt. At the beginning I didn't know why I had to avoid fighting at all cost. I was just told that it wasn't the best option. When I finished the game, I didn't want to play it again or do it any other way... but that might just be because I got too emotionally attached to the characters... But then if lets say my siblings didn't tell me anything or help, would I have still gotten a neutral route? One where I end up killing some of the characters?

To start with my gaming experience at that point has been mostly these games: Minecraft, Garrys mod, and Team Fortress 2 (Maybe a bit of Terraria?)

So, I had no reason to really assume the "at 0 health you faint" like in Pokemon, because in games like Terraria and TF2 you die, explode, or combust into confetti when you reach 0 (mostly explode). Also in most of those games hurting anyone (even on accident) generally leads to death for one or both sides. In Minecraft you did the little up-down crouch animation and then jumped around when the other joined in. Somehow even in TF2, a game where you can decapitate your enemies, has a subtle way of communicating "Hey wait! Lets be friends." -Which happens sometimes when one side doesn't shoot (and prolonged awkward eye contact).

In a weird way we had Undertale before it was even a thing, it's just that most games never really have a built in "friendly" system when the main goal is to kill. TF2 might be one of those exceptions (did you know you can heal your own enemies by throwing a sandwich at them?). However even then it all depends on how you or the person reacts to non-combative or passive behavior. Personally I try to treat any kindness in return in any game, and take the punches if I fail. So, I like to think I would have ended up doing the pacifist run first time around.

I am also pretty sure that moment where Sans gives you the whole "you gained love not LOVE" (Level Of Violence and... Experience?? wasthereevenan"E"?) talk flew over my head... because well I think I remember genuine confusion- Clueless 12 year old: "like yeah man that's how the game is supposed to go right?? But thanks ig??? Also why did you say it in caps?"

[I couldn't find the video so have the gif version of the Vine that was used]

#help #am i doing tumblr right #mini essay #undertale #i know deltarune is a thing but is undertale still alive?#wait i can make anything a tag?#a few other games are mentioned #tf2 #minecraft #terraria #do i even bother tagging gmod?#ferretoat thoughts

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wh6res · 3 years

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three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

#nct imagines #yandere nct #yandere kpop #nct smut #nct scenarios #yandere jaemin #yandere jeno #jaemin imagines #jeno imagines #jaemin scenarios #jeno scenarios #jaemin smut #jeno smut

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha.

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos.

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok?

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished.

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways.

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing?

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out.

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”.

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

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God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Leviathan #obey me beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me MC #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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shakespearesdrugdealer · 3 years

Text

Just friends

Minors DNI.

Pairings: College AU. College!Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (fingering), swearing, is fluff a warning?

A/N: Okayy, so this a college AU with a friends with benefits dynamic. I wanted to make this a slow burn so I'll see where it leads lol.

Enjoy!

He was kissing your neck and you were adjusting yourself under him to allow him to move further down. He didn’t smell like himself; his cologne was mixed with someone else’s. You were supposed to be okay with that though, because you guys were just friends after all. You were there for each other while doing homework, working on labs together, going bowling on the weekends, grabbing coffee and when the teenage hormonal urge came to indulge in each other’s body; well, a month ago you agreed to that too.

“Look, despite the movies, I think it could work,” Gojo proposed.

“What makes you think that?” you narrow your eyes at him from across the lab counter you guys were sitting at, trying to compile a report you messed up twice by now.

Chemistry was hard. But Gojo was making it harder for both of you right now by asking unnecessary questions to push a few boundaries in your friendship.

“The fact that you are pretty objective, and that we are both have needs,” he said, adding a playful drawl on the last word.

“No,” you pointed out firmly, hesitating to meet the eyes that were set at looking into yours. “You have needs, I on the other hand would like to finish this report and go to sleep.”

“See, that could easily be turned into a better end to your day if you go to sleep with me,” he countered, putting his hand on the calculator you were punching numbers into; forcing you to lift your head up and look at him with a frustrated but amused expression.

“Is this really the time to talk about this?” you huffed, trying to free your hand while trying hard and failing at controlling the heat spreading to your face.

“No time better than the present lovie.”

“Not your lovie,” you emphasized, sitting back onto your chair and giving up at the notion of finishing your lab. When Gojo is being stubborn about something, there were not a lot of ways to solve the problem but give in and listen; like right now, with his absurd idea.

But was it really absurd though? You guys have been friends for a good while now, 2 years to be exact. You liked how he could go on for ages talking about the ridiculous things he did at college that day and you wouldn’t mind listening because it allowed you to see the day outside of your own world. Maybe it was because your life lacked a little chaos and his lacked the calm and organization of yours; but you worked well with each other. He dragged you out of the dorm on days you got obsessed with completing your readings and you were grateful for the sun that you got. You also dragged him back into the dorm on nights you knew were meant for rest, or studying instead of getting wasted with the kids who had already completed their tests for that week.

“Look, all I’m saying is, let’s try it out, and if it fails…” he stretched out of his chair like he was doing some kind of tedious work (like the fucking report you guys were supposed to write). “Well, at least we will know where that road leads to.”

His standing figure made you look so small you wanted to punch him in the throat. But you also felt safe?

It’s not like you were completely against the idea. I mean, you knew him pretty well; you knew what kind of a person he was. You understood that he makes a great friend, but he would probably break your heart and chuck it in the bag of broken hearts he carries around with him. And let’s not lie, he’s hot. You’ve seen how his shirt rides up when he leans back against the pillows on your bed on the days he drops by your dorm to annoy you. You also hate how you can’t stop yourself from staring at how his eyes widen and sparkle when he finds something interesting in the material he’s reading when you guys are studying together. You knew there was a thin line between being his friend, working well together, him being so fucking attractive and you falling in love with him, God forbid.

Well, maybe you could walk that thin line. “If we fail, we never talk about it again okay?” you started, framing the rules of your relationship in your head.

“Yup,” he agreed, liking where this conversation was headed.

“There are going to be rules of course.”

“Mhhm.”

“No talk of this outside the two of us.” You look at him dead serious.

“Yep yep.”

“And you have to stop being so fucking annoying when we do what we do,” you added.

“Meh, no promises,” he shrugged.

“Okay, well, it looks like we’ve come to some kind of an agreement even though this report is not done,” you sighed closing your book at the realization that the time you signed up for the lab had elapsed.

“Hey,” Gojo said, clearing his throat. Was he nervous? You glanced at him while trying to gather your things into your bag.

“Do you wanna test the agreement?”

“What?” you pause your actions at the offer. “Now?”

“I mean, I see nothing stopping us,” he reasoned. “And we can finish the report at the dorm too.”

“How do you plan for these bribes to work with me?” you smile at his offer to work in exchange of doing the dirty.

“What can I say lovie, I’m a bit of a genius when it comes to being a slut.” Only Gojo could imbue so much confidence into being a slut.

“Again,” you said, “not your lovie.” You push your bag into his chest as a sign of agreement and head towards the lab door. He caught up with you in no time, cradling your bag in his arms and smiling stupidly wide like he won at an arcade game at the fair. You didn’t know if what was going to follow was a disaster or the start of something better than anything you two ever knew.

He didn’t even wait for you guys to settle into your room or talk about how your relationship was going to work before throwing your bag onto the bed and backing you up against your door and pressing his lips against yours to let you know how the next few hours of your day were going to go. And oh my god, they were going to go so fucking good.

“Is this okay?” he asked, pulling away from your lips and twisting the lock on your door with his free hand.

“Yeah,” you squeaked, embarrassed and a little confused at how quickly this day was taking a whole new turn.

“Wanna say that again?” he teased swiping his thumb across your cheek while tilting your head to look at you properly.

“Just-” you swallowed. You’ve never seen his eyes look like this, even after all this time with him. They had their usual playful glint in them, the kind that normally makes you want to shove him through a locker (not that you haven’t tried) but right now there was something more. Something that made you want to run but also give into his touch and the patterns he was drawing on the small of your back with his other hand. “Just…take it slow okay?” you ask, hoping he understood that you hadn’t done something like this in a while now.

He knew that though. You talked about your first times over a drunk Friday evening and that was when he figured you hadn’t done as much as him and you also figured that Gojo was a threat to womankind.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, taking your hands into his and leading you towards the bed. His eyes never left yours and you weren’t done tasting his lips just yet, so you stare at them with unabashed desire. “Oh, my eyes are up here love,” he said, pausing his movements to take in this side of you he hadn’t seen before.

“Shut up,” you retort, a little annoyed at how quickly he had you feeling so hot and bothered. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tippy-toes to pull him down to meet your lips as he groans into the kiss in surprise. You don’t know what it was that got into you, but you pushed him to walk to the edge of the bed as your tugged at the hem of his shirt to let him know you wanted it on the floor. He was breathing hard too by this point; his hand cupping your neck and the other finding its way under your shirt. He laughs at your attempt to lift his shirt and removes his hands from your body for a moment to take his shirt off. Your eyes widen at the view you were presented with. Your hands reach for his chest but he grabs your wrists, tilting his head in amusement. “Kinda unfair if yours doesn’t come off too no?”

And that’s how you found his hands slipping under your shirt and around your back, leaving goosebumps at his touch. He unhooked your bra and lifted the set of clothing from your body, leaving you hazy from all the kisses that he was planting along your jawline and neck. He pulled your hands that were stroking his chest to interlock with his fingers as he used your momentary confusion to push you onto your bed and hover over you in one clumsy but simultaneously smooth maneuver.

He was reveling in this side of you that you were showing. It was chaotic, it was vulnerable and most of all, it was so beautiful. His hands release yours as he finds interest in playing with your breasts. He takes hold of your left breast and squeezes it as you whine and twist your head into the pillows at his teasing and the lack of attention that was being paid to your areas down south. You pull at the white strands of his hair you had slid your fingers into and he groans into your skin making you shudder. He opens his lips to the side of your neck that you gave space to and bites down as a response to your own roughness. The moan that escapes your mouth makes you want to hide in embarrassment as he chuckles into the mark he was leaving.

Your chest was heaving, as your hands grab at the sheets next to you instead to find some kind of stability among the fireworks that his touch was leaving. “Gojo-” you started, lifting your head from the pillow, to see him smirking at you. He moves down towards your stomach and thighs, making sure to kiss the curves and edges and taking note of the areas he kissed and you moaned at. “I will kill you if you don’t stop teasing.” You drop back onto the pillow again, not being able to hold for too long as his fingers stroke your inner thighs, taking off the last article of clothing you had on.

He leans forward, looking at you with your eyes fluttering shut and fidgeting around his hold on you. “Aw, cute,” he says, stroking your thighs and brushing his fingertips around your clit, not touching it but making it more sensitive than you would have ever imagined. “You can still threaten me looking like this.” You push your head deeper into the pillows at the sensation of the butterfly kisses he was placing on your inner thighs and sucking at the sensitive skin to leave his marks yet again.

“I swear to God-” you plead, threading your hands into his hair again. “Patience, pretty,” he says, lifting his head from between your legs to allow his fingers to take their place and rub at your clit in tiny circles. You gasp and have the urge to shut your legs but he has one of his legs secured between yours and you really wanted him to keep going too. “Think you’re ready for me?” he asks, running his index and middle finger along the outer area of your slits.

you nod at him, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You were getting hazy from circles he was drawing on your clit with his middle finger and moving it down to tease your entrance.

“Words, love,” he says, shifting to lean above you and place a kiss to your lips and chest that was heaving roughly by now.

“I-I’m ready,” you softly reply, looking into his eyes and then at his smile that reminded you that he was your safety and also the person that was going to ruin in the next few minutes.

“Tell me to stop when you want to okay?” He assures you as he slides his fingers between your slits to feel your wetness.

“Mhmm,” is all you can say as you feel his middle finger play around your entrance before finding its way against your walls. You breathe sharply at the feeling of his finger pulling in and out slowly, to explore its way around you. But it was also making you so hot-headed as it hit all the right corners and spaces. He swallows your moans with his lips and tries to steady your body by sucking at your nipples. But it only made your head cloudier and you let go of any control of the sounds that were coming out of you.

Your back arches with an audible whimper escaping your chest at Gojo’s attempt to curl his finger against your walls and he smirks, knowing what he just did. He continues the curling motions and tests your limit by nudging a second finger at your entrance. You yelp at the tight feeling of your walls against his fingers. “Fuck,” you spread your legs wider as a sign of giving in to his movements completely. He was entranced by the pretty sounds coming out of you and the way your hips were moving up and down his fingers trying to chase the knot that was tightening at the bottom of your stomach.

He speeds up the movements of his fingers, moving in and out of you. You let out soft cries at how he wasn’t letting you get a moment of rest between the feeling of his mouth against the sensitive spots on your neck and breasts mixed with the madness that was occurring between your legs. “Gojo, I can’t-” you say in a shaky cry at the way your walls were tightening against his fingers. He pushes you further with his thumb rubbing faster against your clit and you just about lose it, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and a strangled moan leaving your lips

“Hey pretty girl, wanna let go for me?” he whispers as he looks at your desperate eyes. You nod feverishly as he continues his motions, and he hoists one of your legs further apart to rest on his lap. You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and the tingling on your clit getting borderline painful. You snap your palm on Gojo’s wrist trying to fight the feeling but he doesn’t relent. And with the next few motions of his fingers curling against you while he bit into your neck a little too rough, you let out a strangled shriek and arch your back as your walls pulsate around his fingers at your orgasm.

He drank in the sight of you panting and your legs shaking from the orgasm. Your eyes were pinched shut and one of your hands had the sheets tightly tucked into your fist and the other was squeezing his wrist that was still pumping his fingers in and out of you to help you ride out your orgasm. He leans forward, in awe and with sense of adoration.

“You good?” he kissed the corner of your mouth and brushed the stray pieces of hair on the sides of your face to place more chaste kisses across your cheeks and moving to your neck. You hiss as he takes his fingers out of you and you are given an apology as he muffles your complaints with his lips pressing against yours. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at Gojo’s now tight pants. You smirk and shift to balance your figure on your elbows to meet his eyes.

You nod at the bulge through his pants. “Do you wanna do something about that or…?” you question reaching out to place your hands against his chest, and push him into sitting back onto the bed as you straddle him.

“I mean…if you can take it,” he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours, and squeezing your hips.

God, this may be a huge mistake or one of the greatest things you guys stumbled upon with each other.

A/N: This is my first attempt at smut so help me oh lords of smut; I hope I didn’t it mess up lol. I also really like this college AU so maybe I’ll continue it, idk.

Alsoo, the header I used here was got from pinterest but if it has sources to someone here on Tumblr, I would love to credit <3

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo imagine #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jjk au #askufdkusj idek where my head was when I did this #I wanted it to be soft though #consent is nice y'all #I do wanna continue this into part with angst and lovey dovey stuff???#🔞

298 notes · View notes

nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

Unnamed Extremely Bad Plan to Defeat Darth Sideous AU - SW AU NO 9

Hopefully writing down this star wars au will help me exorcise the cringe demon that helped midwife it. Time travel au where obi-wan and Anakin come up with an extremely SPECIFIC and UNCOMFORTABLE plan to defeat Palpatine because it unfortunately, would actually work, as it capitalizes on one of Palpatine’s easiest to reach political vulnerabilities. This is not a unique plan- there are other au’s like this, but this one is mine. When searching for ways to explain exactly why this anti-sith strategy inspires such cringe and delight in myself I realized, with sinking dread, I have seen this in an Always Sunny episode...which yeah. I might be over reacting but hey, cringe is a personal phenomenon, everyone’s different.

Anyway! Uh here’s a bunch of plot that will eventually culminate in the plan.

*Too much plot, aaaah*. **All plot actually.** ***Its 1 am and this is still a draft*** ****It’s 2am**** *****This post will be just be background I guess.*****

*******STAR WARS AU NO 9 LAZILY OUTLINED CHAPTER ONE*********

Force ghosts Darth Vader and Ben Kenobi have had time to yell at one another without need for breath, and have more-or-less come to terms with the trainwreck that was their shared life. I wouldn’t call them well adjusted, but they’re more stable then they were the last decade or so of their living existence.

In haunting Luke, they end up encountering an artifact in an ancient Willis temple that offers spirits the chance to fix the mistakes they made in life. It doesn’t truly unwrite what’s been done, but it lets you create an alternate timeline. So this galaxy will still be what it is, but some alternate galaxy somewhere could at least have it better. Its almost never been used, because becoming one with the force usually lets you accept the past, but viewed objectively, Vader and Ben’s lives involved an extreme amount of yikes. They say goodbye to Luke and are flung backwards and sideways.

Anakin is holding his mother as she dies. Obi-Wan is landing on Genosis.

Vader just barely manages to avoid slaughtering the tuskens. To be honest, he doesn’t really get why he shouldn’t- his moral compass is still pretty f-ed up. He’s fairly certain the force is just torturing him, but still he controls himself (for Padme for Luke for Leia).

I’m gonna say well-adjusted!Vader sees murder in general as more of a vice than a sin- on par with having a beer. And really well adjusted Vader is willing to admit to himself that he’s an alcoholic, he seriously cannot regulate, its a problem. He really can’t let himself go, because he’ll just end up spiraling. And so he restrains himself and only seriously maims a few of the adult raiders.

Vader figures he can always come back later and slowly torture them to death if this whole ‘save the future’ thing doesn’t pan out.

Obi-wan leaves his shuttle and hides under a rock for 30 minutes. He calculates thats just enough time for him to pretend he went on an extremely effective and sneaky fact finding mission- just in case anyone checks R4′s records. Gets back in shuttle and gets the fuck out of there, much to Dooku’s chagrin, who lost sight of him after the shuttle landed and is now going to have to switch to one of his alternate start-the-war plans.

On the flight back he reports everything to the council- fallen Dooku and the separatist leaders, the trade federation and the massive droid army, Jango Fett the clone template of the republic army (?) working for the separatists. He briefly comms Anakin, but anyone hacking into their conversations would hear only a nonsensical, rambling conversation. Later, a hacker might turn over the idea that they were speaking in elaborate code, but why would Jedi invent such a thing during peacetime?

The war still starts; at this point in the timeline it was inevitable; the artifact was only designed to give them the chance to correct their own failings, not the galaxy’s. Palpatine still gets his emergency powers.

The same day the armies are discovered, separatist war ships take off to engulf Ryloth. The Jedi are instructed by the senate to lead the clone army and provide immediate relief-this will not be a repeat of the republic’s inaction on Naboo. It’s both better and worse than the first Battle of Genosis. So many more civilians are caught in the crossfire. The first titanic battle is not contained to evacuated droid factories, but rages across an entire populated world. The battle lasts for weeks.

The main reason this fight is less deadly is solely due to the fact that General Kenobi manages to maneuver his way into high command of the entire army.

“I believe assumptions were made since I was the first point of contact with Kamino, Masters,” the Knight explained apologetically to the arriving high council members. “I realize its not quite appropriate, but for right now I am the Jedi most familiar with our forces and the enemies. I would, of course, prefer to cede the role to someone else.”

The assembled Jedi can feel the truth in that statement.

“For better or for worse, advance troops were directed by the senate to land planetside and have met heavy resistance. I managed to redirect them to a more defensible position, where they can provide surface based cover fire for incoming reinforcements. The battle has already begun.” He received a grim nod of approval from Master Windu.

“I feel the need to say now, that if there’s one thing I learned from my time as a general on Melida/Dann, or in working against Death Watch on Mandalore, its that having a clear chain of command is vital for a military to succeed. I don’t need to remind some of you that leadership breakdowns were what ultimately ended both the Stark Hyperspace War and the Yinchorri Crisis,” Masters Koon and Tiin exchanged looks before deliberately sending forth a small force wave of approval, understanding where this briefing was leading.

“I believe that unnecessarily restructuring command before the battle is won here could do far more harm than good.” The reminder of Obi-wan’s unusually militaristic apprenticeship put some of the assembled knights at ease even as it inspired a twinge of guilt in the older masters.

“In command you are, General Kenobi,” Master Yoda finally acknowledged. “A Jedi Master you will be, once done this battle is. Have us do, what would you?”

The battle lasts for weeks, and when its over, the commanding Jedi and Troopers involved will openly acknowledge that had anyone else been in command, it would’ve lasted months, if not years. Facing down logistical, strategic, and tactical problems on a scale unheard of for a thousand years, High General Kenobi does not falter.

Enemy reinforcements seem unending. For all their preparation, every single trooper is new to war, and secretly concerned that should they fall, they will be replaced with cadets who hadn’t even finished their training.

Obi-Wan is putting out fires before they can start. Much to their shock, clone commanders are informed that they will, for the time being, remain in charge of their troops. With a handful of exceptions, Jedi ‘Generals’ were in fact, to be treated as a cross between highly skilled commandoes and advisors with abnormally sourced field intelligence.

“All of you have spent your lives training to lead your brothers into combat. The Jedi Masters and knights who are being assigned to your divisions have not received such training.”

General Kenobi addressed the division commanders, some in person, some over holocomm. All focused in rapt attention as their General reordered the shape of their lives using language they could understand.

“The command structure I am issuing is designed to maximize our ability to utilize our respective strategic capabilities, while minimizing potential loss of your life. It will be our great privilege to serve alongside such an army, and while I fully expect a complementary exchange of knowledge in time, for now, focus on survival.”

The Jedi received similar briefings, tailored for their broader array of combat and military experience. Some, including Jedi Master Pong Krell and Grandmaster Yoda, were pulled aside and tasked with the essential mission of infiltrating and destroying the Droid factories on Genosis. If they were to have a chance of winning this war, they they would need to cut off the seemingly unceasing flow of droid reinforcements.

An elite squadron of Arctroopers and Jedi field operatives were covertly dispatched, Grandmaster Yoda himself in command. Considering Count Dooku had yet to appear anywhere near Ryloth...the grandmaster had the best chance of bringing in the fallen separatist leader alive for questioning.

Shortly after they left, Anakin arrived, having finally turned over Padme’s protection to her regular guard. With the military creation vote past, the assassination risk was considered minimal. The real delay in his arrival came from her repeated attempts to join the Grand Army of the Republic on Ryloth with the intent of coordinating humanitarian assistance. Eventually he managed to convince her that she could do more good in the senate.

After all, he pointed out, someone would need to followup the military creation act with a bill to grant clones equal citizen rights. Otherwise, the legal grey area that cloning fell under and their non-republic origin would inadvertently make the clones slaves.

His borrowed Nabooan cruiser entered the warzone with the grace and efficiency as a small neutron bomb.

Those close enough to see its flaming descent watched in horror, realizing that the high generals own padawan would likely be a war casualty before he ever engaged in combat.

The legion nearest to soon-to-be-ground-zero, under the command of Captain Rex of the 501st, were distracted by heated combat, as the temporary barricade they had put up to defend the civilian population gave way to droidika artillery.

While reloading, several dozen troopers happened to look up to see a speck detach itself from the hull as at spiraled in the lower atmosphere. Hope spread that the Jedi had managed to activate some sort of eject hatch. A skilled shocktrooper could probably control and and survive such a fall with luck, which mean a Jedi almost certainly could.

A few tactical scouts charged with watching the skies confirmed that the speck was indeed a humanoid. No chute was visible, but even 8 days into the war, rumors had already spread about how Master Windu had passed off his chute mid-air to a troopers who had been damaged by suppressing fire, cushioning his free fall solely with the tank he crushed upon landing.

Only one trooper, stationed in the town clock tower specifically to track the Padawan’s arrival and issued with a high-resolution farscope, saw the whole thing. Fortunately for his credibility later, in its current setting, the scope automatically logged photos every 5 seconds, ensuring that for years to come Obi-Wan would have a flipbook as evidence that he was not the crazy one.

CT-3609 or Blink (as he was named after winning the division wide staring contest on Kamino two year prior) forwarded the trajectory of the vehicle to command, who confirmed his analysis that it would impact two clicks out from their makeshift fort and not present a risk to civilian or trooper lives.

As it traversed the stratosphere a figure (desperate repair droid, Blink assumed) emerged from the cockpit to perch on the nose of the ship. As it entered the troposphere, it became painfully obvious that the figure jutting out from the hull of the ship was in fact not a humanoid droid, but an unarmored human. The Jedi stood on the prow of the ship, seemingly impervious to and oblivious of:

air resistance

centrifugal force

normal space gravity

Blink’s slack-jawed bewilderment

the flames engulfing the ship below him

At this range, the smirk on the man’s face was visible (man? boy? kriff is he even through puberty?). Several miles above the surface he leaped, diving towards the ground like a bird of prey.

To the west, the ship made impact with the ground, sending a shockwave that shook the tower just enough for Blink to lose visual in the final moments of descent. Cursing, as while he was confident the Jedi would inexplicably survive, he really wanted to see how. The trooper scanned the droid-engulfed farmland to the north for a crash site, to no avail. Lingering smoke from the burnt countryside negatively impacted visibility low to the ground.

Rather than trying to articulate his report into words, he sent the 50-odd frames the farscope had saved, as well as the coordinates for the jedi’s projected radius of touchdown. A quick radio over to long range electro-ballistics ensured that his landing wouldn’t be marred by friendly fire.

He awaited follow-up questions on the absurd entry method, which, when they came, mostly consisted of variations on “...Is this for real?” and eventually “Can you set the scope to video for a little while?” and finally “Do you think that’s how he got the name Skywalker?”

There was a temporarily lull in fire from the west, likely a ripple effect from the ship’s explosion. From his vantage point Blink could see his batchmates using the opportunity to try and plug the holes in their barricade with broken droid pieces. Regardless of the itch to join them, he knew he couldn’t leave his post until the Jedi actually arrived in camp. Finally, a distant explosion and thick pillar of smoke gave the Jedi’s position away.

He tried to make out details, but the scope had a difficult time focusing through the haze. Manually trying to fine tune the scope’s settings, Blink caught a glimpse of what looked like half a hover tank sailing through the air to impact with a trade federation troop carrier in a fiery explosion. Several more explosions, flying droid artillery, and plumes of smoke were caught on record before visual contact with the source was established. He was mostly visible as a blue blur, lightsaber mowing a meandering path towards their location.

It wasn’t until Skywalker braced himself in place to punch a droidaka into pieces that Blink caught actual sight of the man. Only his eyes were visible, nose and mouth covered by layers of cloth. He blurred, then reappeared on top a massive missile launcher attached to an absurdly heavily armored vehicle. A minute or so of rapid blue flashes passed, the longest he had seen concentrated in one area. Then Skywalker was gone, movement clearly visible as he for once he moved in a straight line, plowing a rapid path away from the launcher.

Less than 30 seconds later, Blink had to wince away from the scope, as a burning white explosion temporarily overwhelmed the direct light filter. The trooper panicked for a moment, thinking he had gone both deaf and blind, but the abrupt, sucking silence ended after a moment with a deafening sonic boom. The shockwave rattled the farscope, nearly knocking it over, but Blink managed to steady it and himself in time.

A cheer emerged from pleasantly surprised vod below. The entire droid legion that had been guarding the missile launcher and apparent ordinance bay was flattened.

It took a moment for the realization to set in that the background noise of missile and and anti-missile collisions directly overhead had slowed pace. With the northern flank gone, artillery were able to redouble efforts to the east, and a second white hot shockwave ensued, signaling that the tide of battle had shifted. It was almost too easy for the republics electro-ballistics to tactically devastate the surrounding forces.

Eventually some sort of win/loss programming must have set in and all forces outside of a certain radius began retreating southward, conceding the scorched land to the republic army. It was cadets work to clean up the final suicidal droid charge.

A commotion ensued as Skywalker leapt the barricade with a mid-air flip. The vod greeted him with cheers, as they correctly assumed his appearance had something to do with the skirmish’s decisive victory.

Blink sent the video of the battle to command and quickly packed up his scope and assorted equipment. Hurrying down the battered tower, Blink thought to himself that this Anakin Skywalker was the best sort of Jedi a trooper could ask for.

uh sorry i got really sidetracked there moving on

Kenobi and Skywalker quickly become the face of the war once again

they grit their teeth a bit, but when they finally have a moment to really plan they eventually agree that to take down Sideous they have to cut off his political power in addition to everything else, and taking advantage of their public personas was the most accessible way to do so (*evil laughter*)

While Dooku wasn’t captured, Yoda heard the truth in his old student’s cryptic warnings about a Sith in the Senate, and the council begins carefully editing their release of tactical plans to the Chancellor’s office in the hopes of ferreting out the spy in their midst.

Pong Krell looses two arms in his duel with Dooku. Obi-Wan successfully hides his smug pleasure at the news. Anakin enjoys makeing comparisons between him and Grievous.

Kenobi doesn’t allow the origin of the clones to go unexamined, although he agrees that if the public were informed that they don’t actually know who ordered them it would probably cause panic.

The ‘inhibitor chips’ are ‘discovered’ early on and Anakin leads the effort to ensure that they are phased out and removed immediately. This consists of reminding every Jedi who even hesitates about how how he as a child slave had some experience with control chips and unless you want to take a leaf out of the hutts books lets start doing brain surgery chop chop mmmkay?

(This isn’t to say that Vader doesn’t still a twinge of shame at acknowledging his slave roots. But it is eclipsed by the burning guilt that he knowingly acted as slave master to his troops for decades after Sideous wiped their minds. He tried to rationalize it to himself, after all he didn’t immediately understand what Order 66 had done to the troopers. But while the morality of murder was more of an intellectual concern than a personal one, treating people as things...)

The Kamonions are a little harder to budge, referencing contracts that they refuse to allow the Jedi to see

Finally Vader snuck into the Chief Medical Scientist’s home while she was sleeping and straight-up threatened to murder her and burn down her lab. At the risk of losing her life’s work, Nala Se complied.

Vader left with the final threat that in the event that Darth Tyranus caught wind and activated Order 66 prematurely, he would kill 100 Kamonians for every Jedi felled by troopers. Shaak Ti was pleased by the cloners sudden change of heart. Tyrannus, and by extension, Sideous, are in the dark.

Obi-Wan frequently publicly confronts Palpatine about the troops citizen status, urging him make use of his emergency powers to grant them citizenship and full pay, with the option to leave the army should they so wish.

Anakin manages to play off his avoidance of the Chancellor as disappointment in his perceived lack of dedication to anti-slavery efforts

Finally Palpatine gives in- regardless of what happens next, the troops will be looked after.

With 2/3rds of the troopers dechipped, Vaderkin is eager to kill Sideous again, but after several intense screaming matches and sparring sessions, the time travelers come to the agreement that even if they succeed in their duel, with things as they were, the perception of the Jedi military coop would cause mass civil unrest. The scattered sith apprentices, while individually weak, were more than capable of magnifying that fear and anger until the galaxy breaks. Darth Sideous wanted to ensure that if he couldn’t have the galaxy, no one would.

(Vader knows this. Sideous enjoyed monologuing, and much of his plotting couldn’t be safely bragged about until after he had decisively won, leaving Vader as the unwilling receptacle for years of pent-up rants and self-satisfied gloats about the inevitability of his victory)

Continued Here

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

Note

hi! I have a prompt, if you like: what if Geralt hangs up mistletoe to get Jaskier to kiss him? :)

ELLIE, what a galaxy brained concept! It’s so silly and the gay panic is rampant in this one, my friends. The Kaer Morons being a bumbling pack of idiots and Geralt ridiculously pining after Jaskier? Coming right up!

Summary: Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir.

Warnings: NONE, this is tooth-rotting fluff

Read on AO3

There was a conspiracy of the highest order brewing in the Continent involving no less than four witchers, their horses, a goat, and an unsuspecting bard. It is known under many names, including, but not limited to, Operation Home Sweet Home, Gods Save us from your Fucking Pining, and Get Vesemir's Blessing (and Mission Let's Get Geralt Laid, but that was from Lambert and therefore stupid).

They had laid out the Conspiracy in a set of carefully calculated steps last winter with the help of Vesemir's Wise Words and truly copious amounts of alcohol. Once he saw the whole list sober, Geralt had nearly chucked it into the fireplace out of mortification. Good thing Eskel and Lambert had been nearby to wrestle the slip of paper out of his hands.

Only after the creation of at least half a dozen copies was he trusted with it again. He frowned down at the sheet. It was simple, really. A simple ten-step-plan. He could do that.

Step One: Stop fucking staring out of windows and sighing longingly. (Shut up, Lambert.) Get back on the Path and find Jaskier.

Now, at least that was easy enough. Not for the first time since their acquaintance they had agreed upon a meeting place to come find each other as soon as the snows would allow it. Most of the years Geralt would arrive a little late; because even if they chose a spot closer to Kaer Morhen than Oxenfurt, the Killer was usually impassable for a long time.

A few years they had been lucky and could set out relatively early in spring. Geralt hadn't felt lucky at all, sitting in a lonely tavern corner day in, day out, waiting for a familiar bright-coloured bard to fill his life with light again. He had felt terrified, most of all.

So, this year when he set out to the Path, an already crumpled list clutched tightly in his hand, he was even more on edge than normally. He didn't think he could take Step One failing already, and the mortifying possibility of Jaskier lying dead in a ditch. He might just climb up that mountain again and never come back down.

Luckily, Geralt — and Vesemir — were saved from that miserable fate. When Geralt threw open the tavern door in some backwater Kaedwen town, Jaskier was there already. He was peacocking around in his usual manner, enticing his sparse audience with his captivating presence. When his eyes fell on Geralt, though, his three half-drunk spectators were soon forgotten.

The bard gasped and slung his lute onto his back, vaulting off the stage to come rushing over to him. "You're here!" Geralt stood ready, his arms spread wide to catch Jaskier when he flung himself at him in an overenthusiastic hug. "I missed you." Jaskier slung his legs around Geralt's hips and buried his face against his shoulder, clinging to him as if for dear life.

Geralt held him tight, deeply inhaling the familiar scent, a mix of honey, grapes, and cinnamon. He was used to this by now. He didn't mind. Truth be told, he craved it.

"Hmm," he answered, acutely aware of the stares they were attracting. Geralt decided he didn't care. "I... missed you, too."

"You did?" Jaskier pulled back and beamed at him. Just a week ago he had thought he would kill to see that smile again as soon as possible.

"Hmm," he agreed. Now he knew he knew he would die for it.

Jaskier wriggled in his grasp as a sign he wanted to be put down again. "You certainly know how to sweep a man off his feet, darling," he announced with a cheerful wink. "I don't think you've ever told me you so much as enjoyed my company before, let alone miss it."

"Hmm." Hadn't he? He could've sworn he had.

"None of that, now, let me just grab my bag and we can be on our merry way." Without another word, Jaskier rushed up the stairs in the back of the tavern.

Geralt stood uncomfortably in the door, waiting for him to return and doing his best not to attract too much attention. 'Hurry up, Jaskier,' he thought impatiently.

"Oi!" the bartender shouted. "Yer the witcher? The one of the songs?"

"I am."

The man nodded and threw something at him, humming a very distinct tune. It was a ducat. Geralt pocketed it with a sigh. He hadn't missed that.

He didn't have to wait long before Jaskier came barrelling back down the stairs, a much too large bag Roach would have to carry again in tow. "Well," the bard straightened his crumpled doublet, which, for some reason, now gaped open and showed off the pristine shirt underneath. Geralt tried not to stare, "where are we off to?"

"Toussaint," he answered, holding the tavern door open for him.

"Toussaint!" Jaskier exclaimed excitedly. "I love Toussaint."

"Hmm," Geralt said. 'I know,' Geralt thought, 'that's why we're going.'

With their reunion out of the way, it was time to proceed with the plan:

Step Two: Travel with Jaskier. Be nice to him (no fillingless pies!)! Compliment him! Laugh at his jokes!

That part was significantly more difficult than the first. Not that he lacked compliments for Jaskier, quite on the contrary. They, however, posed not one, but two difficulties.

The first was one of his own making: voicing his thoughts with actual words. In the privacy of his mind he had a myriad of compliments. 'You're beautiful,' passed through his head when he saw Jaskier bathed in the golden light of sunset. 'You smell nice,' after a day at the coast, salt encrusting Jaskier's hair. 'You make me smile', 'You make the loneliness go away', 'You're the best bard I could wish for.' None of them were quite eager to leave his mouth.

When they finally did, it was awkward. They didn't sound at all how he imagined them. "What are you looking at?" Jaskier asked.

"Something on your face," he answered. 'Yeah,' he thought dumbly, 'sunlight.'

Or: "Geralt, are you sniffing me?"

"You smell." He still cursed himself months later for omitting the simple word 'nice'.

After a while he got better at it. He could manage an "I like your voice" without stumbling over it, or a "Your outfit looks nice and smooth." It wasn't an "I love listening to you sing and say my name; you make it sound like something that is worthy of affection" or an "I love that you wear silk as soft as your skin and could spend days caressing it without growing tired of it" yet, but he was getting there.

What came then, once he was able to say a simple nice sentence to his bard, was somehow even worse. Jaskier was clumsy, that was nothing new, but this season it was on a whole different level. Whenever Geralt so much asked him about the song he was working on, the bard stumbled over his own feet; with every smile or laugh he nearly dropped his precious lute.

But nothing beat that time they happened upon a particularly clear and blue lake and Geralt had leaned over to tell Jaskier: "I like it. It reminds me of your eyes. Just as pretty." The poet had nearly plummeted right into it, which would have been very unfortunate indeed, since he hadn't convinced the nymph living in it to migrate yet.

In the end, Jaskier's utter lack of equilibrium sense led to Geralt offering him to ride on Roach. That was much better. Sometimes they rode double, too. He liked those days especially, when he had an excuse to hold his bard close. The days when Jaskier would sigh and lean back into his touch he liked most of them all.

Slowly, they settled into a familiar rhythm. It was awkward at first, but soon they became used to the change of their relationship. And it wasn't as if everything changed. They still bickered and insulted each other, and laughed and told stories. It was just right; Geralt almost didn't notice how summer came to an end.

But it did, and when the first leaves started coasting to the ground it was time for the next step.

Step Three: Ask him where he will spend the next winter.

It was probably the most mortifying thing he had to say to Jaskier yet. They were sat at a campfire one early autumn evening, Geralt trying to look busy cleaning his sword and Jaskier preoccupied with his lute. Once he finally worked up the courage to ask, he stumbled over his words like a school boy; he even blushed, for fuck's sake! It was embarrassing.

Luckily, Jaskier didn't seem to notice, too busy tuning his lute. "Why, in Oxenfurt, of course. Why do you ask, Geralt?" he answered nonchalantly as if Geralt wasn't just leading the most daunting conversation of his entire life.

'Fucking great,' he thought. Now it was time for Step Three.5: Ask Jaskier to come home with you, you fucking idiot.

"Hm," he said.

Jaskier laughed. "Talkative as always I see." He smiled at him brightly and turned back to his lute. "Alright then. Keep your secrets."

"Hmm." This wasn't getting any easier. "Jaskier."

"Yes, dear?"

His heart fluttered with the pet name, so much that Geralt nearly bit his tongue off in the process of trying to voice his question: "Would you like to stay with me?"

The lute gave a dissonant twang that made both of them wince. "Excuse me, what?" Jaskier stammered, his voice much higher than normally.

"Hmm. I just thought..." He frowned. 'Shit.' He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. This had been doomed from the beginning. "Forget it, it's stupid."

"No, no, not at all!" Jaskier scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Geralt's side. "Where would we be staying? I suppose you could come to Oxenfurt with me, but it could get a bit crammed and-"

"Kaer Morhen," Geralt stated simply.

"Kaer Mo- oh!" His eyes lit up. "Why, yes, Geralt, I would love to stay with you."

And that was the end of that. They didn't talk about it anymore the whole evening as Geralt did his damnedest to forget the conversation had ever happened. But when he laid awake in the night, Jaskier huddled close to him — it was getting rather cold, after all — he couldn't stop his mind from whirling, excitement mixing with immobilising terror. Jaskier would come to Kaer Morhen with him. They would stay together the whole winter. And Jaskier would meet his family.

With a sigh he turned over, cautiously throwing an arm over Jaskier's waist and holding him like the precious thing he was. The smile that spread on Geralt's face when his bard snuggled even closer, outshone the morning sun creeping over the horizon.

The following days and weeks, Jaskier was buzzing with the same excited energy that Geralt held within. It cost him every ounce of self-control not to turn Roach around and head for Kaer Morhen right away. But it was still early in the autumn, at least a moon's turn before it was time to go home, so they busied themselves with taking contracts and performing for sub-par audiences.

It was alright. He needed the money, after all, if he wanted to cross off Step Four: Bring Jaskier back to Kaer Morhen in its entirety, including the note: Buy him some nice and warm clothes on the way - Vesemir

It was good advice, Geralt knew, as most of Vesemir's advice was. Jaskier might have travelled with a witcher for the better part of his life, but he was still only human. And winters were very cold in the northern Kaedwen mountains.

So, on Geralt's annual stop in Ard Carraigh, he took Jaskier to get him equipped with soft woollen sweaters and stockings, as well as a pair of sturdy boots, ignoring the bard's protests of how 'ugly' they were.

"You'll thank me when you've still got all your toes after this winter," he grumbled as he strapped Jaskier's bag to Roach's saddle.

After that, nothing much exciting followed. There were still a few villages and hamlets along the way to Kaer Morhen but the least of them had so much as a tavern. The ones with a real audience of Jaskier were fewer still.

Geralt couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. Quite the opposite, he loved listening to Jaskier in the privacy of their camp or — if they were lucky — the barn where they could stay the night. He loved knowing that Jaskier sang only for him. And most of all he loved the vibrant smiles he got along the way, and the tiny ones, too, etched on his face even when he curled up against the witcher at night.

During the days, Jaskier finally had to stop riding on Roach; the path was simply getting too dangerous. The way up to Kaer Morhen had never been easy, not even when there had been two dozen witchers and twice as many students living there, but since the attack they hadn't tended to it anymore. The Witcher's Trail was no easy one for humans — and it wasn't meant to be.

Jaskier, to his credit, didn't comment much on it, most of the time too exhausted or admiring to run his mouth about the difficulty of getting to Geralt's home. He was almost a bit worried, anxious even, if Jaskier's reaction to seeing the ancient ruin would just be the same kind of silent admiration.

Evidently, there had been no need. They rounded the last corner and, finally, Kaer Morhen was looming up above them. As soon as his eyes fell on it, Jaskier gasped and ran ahead. He had, apparently, forgotten about his aching limbs he had complained about just that morning. "Is that it?" he asked excitedly. "Geralt, is this it?"

"No, it's another crumbling fortress in the Kaedwen mountains," he deadpanned.

"You're mean," Jaskier accused him and turned back around to the keep. "For months I've dreamt of this moment and what do you do? You mock me, truly a horrible habit, that- oh, gods, Geralt, it's so beautiful!"

"Hmm," he answered, watching Jaskier intently. The childish glee on his face, the snowflakes dancing around him and melting in his hair. "I guess so."

"Can we go inside?"

Another barbed comment was already on the tip of his tongue, but Geralt guessed that he shouldn't ruin the moment. Not if Jaskier was so happy. "We can. Come on."

They were still a good distance away when the gates creaked open and three bulking figures stepped outside. "You're early," he accused Eskel and Lambert once they caught up to them. They weren't supposed to be there. They were messing up Step Five: Meet the family. (Lambert Eskel Lambert Vesemir first.)

"And you're impolite," Vesemir grumbled. "I taught you better, Geralt."

"Hmm," he answered and the silence that followed might've been awkward if not for Jaskier.

Thanks to him there was no silence at all, to be precise. "You must be Vesemir; Geralt told me so much about you. Dare I say, Master Witcher, I am honoured and humbled by the invitation, and am looking forward to my stay. The name's Jaskier and I am at your service," he concluded and bowed with a flourish.

The three witchers gaped at him in surprise and Geralt couldn't help but grin. No overly detailed stories by him could've possibly prepared them for... well, Jaskier. "What," Lambert muttered quietly, "the fuck?"

"Now, that's just rude," Jaskier said as he straightened himself, "don't you think? Geralt, your brother is being rude to me."

It was all he could do not to laugh freely. Instead he shrugged and said: "Told you he's the rude one."

"Oh, you're Lambert!" The bard grinned widely and stretched out his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

Lambert huffed in surprise and shook the offered hand. "Tell you what, bard, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended."

"Offended," Geralt mumbled just as Eskel said: "Flattered."

Jaskier smiled widely and wickedly. "Both."

Lambert opened his mouth, presumably to return a rude comment, but Jaskier's attention was diverted by Eskel, who gave him a thorough once-over and then nodded. "Welcome to Kaer Morhen, bard."

"Thank you, uh, Eskel?" he hazarded a guess.

A smile tugged on the unscarred corner of his mouth. "That's right."

"Dinner's in an hour," Vesemir cut in. "Maybe you could show our guest to his room, Geralt?"

Right. With the meeting out of the way it was time for Step Six: Show him to his room (Make sure it has some nice fur rugs - Vesemir) (Shag him on the rug - Lambert) (Offer to stay with him if he's cold - Eskel). Both of those additions seemed equally daunting to him.

But before he could even think of an excuse as to why he couldn't do that right now, Roach's reins were ripped from his hands and they were being pushed towards the keep.

"Well, they're certainly eager to get rid of you, considering they haven't seen you for a year," Jaskier quipped once they were inside the keep proper.

"That's not- hmm." 'Fuck.' He had almost betrayed himself. "They'll be different after dinner," he promised. "Besides, you know they can hear you."

"So?" He huffed a laugh. "I know they're just like you; all bark and no bite."

He was about to deny that claim but Lambert's offended howl that reached him from the courtyard quickly changed his mind. That definitely was worth the jab at his own ego. "Come on," he urged, smiling, "no need to continue playing the jester for them any further."

"Why, is there any issue with providing entertainment for a living?" Jaskier teased.

"Only if it's at the expense of me."

He sighed dramatically. "That I know, my dear. That I know."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to give you a tour of the keep."

"You are? Oh, I wouldn't have noticed." Geralt shot him a dirty look. Jaskier snickered maliciously, the bastard. "Oh, yeah, yep. Shutting up. Go ahead, Sir Witcher, show me your magnificent home."

From anyone else it might've been mockery. It might've been mockery from Jaskier, too, if not for the sound of absolute awe in his voice as he took in their surroundings.

Geralt could hardly blame him. It might've been a long time since he had arrived at Kaer Morhen, but he still remembered how dumbstruck he had been at the sheer immensity of the place that should become since home.

It had lost its mysticism since then, but seeing Jaskier's childlike wonder as he led him through the kitchens and great hall made him remember. He showed him the library, too, as well as the stairs down to the hot springs that he must never, ever confuse with those that led to the laboratories.

He closed with the rooms the various witchers claimed as their own: "That's Lambert's room down the hall, don't go there, he's a prick; Vesemir is a few floors below us, claims he's too old for our squabbles; that's mine, and that one's Eskel's, ask him if you need something and I'm not there, not Lambert, he's an arsehole-"

"Geralt," Jaskier said soothingly and put a hand on his arm, "you're rambling."

"Am I?" he asked confused. "Don't think so."

"There's no need to be nervous, dear. I won't abandon you; you're stuck with me for the winter."

"I'm not nervous," Geralt insisted, his fingers twitching nervously.

"Right," Jaskier took his hand away, evidently not very convinced. "I'm sorry for interrupting you, then."

"Don't be," he mumbled, not quite able to tear his gaze from Jaskier's gentle smile.

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"Do I-" He started fidgeting with his lute strap. "Do I have a room, too? I mean, not that I mind sharing with you, that's not the issue at all- gods, I sound stupid-"

His eyes still trained on Jaskier, he reached behind him and opened the door. "There."

"That's my room?" he asked without turning around to look inside.

"That's yours," Geralt confirmed. He had prepared it last winter already. Just in case.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the poet whirled around and rushed into the sparsely furnished room. He looked very much... out of place. The realisation hit him like a slap in the face; but apparently the visual of Jaskier and his bright purple doublet in the grey empty walls of Kaer Morhen was what it took for him to realise how little they were reconcilable.

For the first time in his life he felt self-conscious for his home. "'S not much," Geralt mumbled.

"It's wonderful." Jaskier beamed, carefully inspecting the bed and the rug, peering out the window and into the chest. "Might get a bit cold, though."

He grumbled something he knew to be unintelligible to humans into his beard.

"What was that, love?"

"You could always stay with me," he spoke up. "Y'know. We've shared before."

"That we have! You might find that before long you will be forced to let me take you up on your generous offer."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and left him to it, in order to complete Step Six.5: No, let him arrive first, you idiot! There would be no 'being forced' of any kind, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that to Jaskier, yet.

Despite their apparent incompatibility Jaskier settled into the routine of Kaer Morhen disturbingly quickly. Though 'settle into' wasn't quite the right choice of words. More like 'tear it down and build it anew, but with lyrics, laughter, and luminosity'.

The evening of their arrival was truly mortifying, the worst mix of embarrassing stories of Geralt's childhood and very inappropriate questions directed at Jaskier. Geralt had spent the whole dinner frozen in shock and awe at the masterful display of the bard's craftsmanship.

After an hour of vicious cross-examination, the three witchers had finally backed off. And as Vesemir had retreated to his rooms, Lambert had brought up the alcohol. It hall had spiralled out of Geralt's control after that.

Within the hour Lambert and Jaskier were japing and jabbing at each other as if they were lifelong friends and not acquaintances since a few hours. It took his bard three days to have Vesemir completely wrapped around his finger, intently listening to his droning lectures about basically everything. And not even a fortnight into their stay, he found Jaskier and Eskel in the library, talking with hushed voices. He quickly retreated but not before he heard Jaskier telling his brother how beautiful he was, scars or no scars, and Eskel sniveled quietly.

A month since their arrival saw them trapped into the castle by the heavy snowfalls. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Vesemir from drilling them mercilessly.

They were an hour into their morning routine when they all perked at the sound of soft footsteps passing through the hall. "Jaskier," Geralt said softly.

The bard was bundled up in several quilts, his face barely visible beneath the mess of his hair and the blankets. Still his face lit up with the brightest smile when he saw them. "Mornin', lads," he croaked, "lookin' good, keep it up." He gave them a tired thumbs-up and shuffled off to the kitchen, where Vesemir would provide him with a hot breakfast with a side of 'most-boring-information-on-this-earth'. It was their own morning routine of sorts, and the three of them knew it wouldn't be long before they were discussing the 'merits of the iambic pentameter in 10th century love poetry' or some shit.

"Fuck," Lambert cursed once they knew Jaskier to be out of earshot, "I really can't blame you, Geralt. Too much time with him and I start gawking like a love-sick idiot, too."

"Hmm," Geralt agreed. Jaskier definitely had that effect.

"Jealous, wolf?" Eskel inquired with a knowing smile.

"No," he answered earnestly. If anything, he loved Jaskier more for it. His family wasn't easy to deal with, he knew. But his bard didn't care. He had so much affection to give, even for witchers. 'Especially for witchers.' He closed his eyes with a happy smile.

"Y'know, there's still a couple of steps left on our list," Eskel informed him casually.

Geralt's eyes snapped open as his heart sped up. 'Fuck.' The plan. "Hmm."

"Just fucking get it over with," Lambert yearned. "Your pining isn't any less obnoxious just because he's here."

"If anything, it's gotten worse," Eskel agreed.

"So?" he snapped. He had put it off, that was true. Had waited for the snow, he told himself, but now the snow was here and-

"So, we'll distract him this afternoon," Eskel interrupted his spiralling thoughts.

"And you pull your head outta your arse and fucking follow through," Lambert added.

"Fine," he ground out. "We do that." Not before he kicked both their arses during their training, though, for being such utter dicks.

Before long, however, the inevitable happened. Morning passed over to noon, and, true to their words, Lambert and Eskel whisked Jaskier away after lunch. They left Geralt behind in the hall with a branch in his hands and nothing left to do but complete Step Seven: Hang up a mistletoe.

"Fuck," he muttered. Nearly one year had passed since they had come up with their conspiracy. One year to gather his courage, one year to come up with a plan, one year to at least think about where to fucking put it. "Fuck," he said again, for good measure.

He looked around. Looked to the rafters. Looked at the mistletoe. "Fuck it," he declared and tucked it away to scale up to the rafters.

He was already up there, dangling from one of the beams when he remembered that he had nothing to secure it with besides the silky ribbon that would never fit around it. He scowled darkly. He sure as hell wouldn't climb down and up again. Without further ado he pulled his dagger from his belt and drove it deep into the wood, pinning the mistletoe by the ribbon.

He climbed down again, making sure that it was visible from the ground. 'Perfect,' he decreed. With the mistletoe in place, it was now time for Step Eight: Have Lambert and Eskel inform Jaskier of the mistletoe and a strategically placed Geralt.

He spun around to go and alert his brothers, when he heard a cheerful voice behind him: "Geralt! There you are, you mean witcher, I was wondering where you were hiding. You know, it is not nice to leave your, uh- bedmate all alone and freezing in the morning, and- oh." There was a thoughtful pause. "Now would you look at that."

Geralt heaved a long sigh. He dreaded turning around, for he had a very distinct feeling he knew already what he would see. And fuck, he was not ready for that step. For some stupid reason, he still did turned around.

Jaskier stood in the middle of the hall, squinting up at the ceiling. "Are my eyes deceiving me — and they might be, mind you, my eyes are not as good as a witcher's — or is that a mistletoe I spy up there."

He cursed internally. He knew he should've hung it lower. "Hmm," he answered, his heart beating in his throat. Why was his heart beating in his throat? It wasn't supposed to do that. His voice was surprisingly calm when he said: "Seems like it."

"Oh no!" he moaned woefully. "Quick, Geralt, come here and lift the curse!"

"Curse?" he inquired bemusedly as his feet moved without his volition. "What curse, Jaskier?"

The bard gasped. "Don't you know? When someone passes beneath a mistletoe, they are frozen to the spot until the curse is broken."

"Hmm," he stepped under the mistletoe, too. He should've known Jaskier would make up a story around this. It was just a tradition, for fuck's sake, no curse. Although a curse was certainly more romantic, even he had to admit that. "Must be a rare curse if a witcher's never heard of it."

"The rarest," Jaskier insisted and pointed at his cheek. "It may only be broken with a true love's kiss."

In light of what happened next, let it be known that, in Geralt's defence, he was panicking. Quite thoroughly so. Since the Trials his legs hadn't shaken like that anymore.

He had been promised a pep talk by his brothers before having to confront the situation at hand. And yet they were nowhere to be found and Jaskier was here, evidently expecting him to kiss him.

'Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck.' He was not ready; he was not ready; he was not-

"Geralt?" Jaskier ripped him from his thoughts. "Are you waiting till my nose grows icicles, or what?"

Still, he leaned forward, placing one hand on Jaskier's hip and the other on his shoulder, and pecked him on the cheek.

The cheek. That had not been the plan. That had not been the plan at all. And then, of all things, he heard himself ask: "Can you move again?"

Jaskier blinked, looking just as dumbstruck as Geralt felt. "I- I think so?" he stammered and moved to pull away, blushing furiously.

'Fuck, no,' he remembered thinking. And while he wasn't quite in control of his limbs again, what he did next was probably the single most clever thing he had done in his entire life. Gingerly almost, he tightened his grip on Jaskier. His head tilted to the side, an invitation, an escape.

His bard didn't move. Instead, he said: "Doesn't seem like it."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and leaned in closer. "Difficult curse, seems like. Let me try again."

Before he could even think of changing his mind, Jaskier had his arms looped around Geralt's neck and crushed their lips together. He did his best to reciprocate the kiss, which wasn't easy with fear still gripping his heart tightly, but then Jaskier crowded closer, moulding his body against Geralt's and that was all it took for the tension to seep from his bones and go limb.

It was a weird sensation; being wrapped in Jaskier's arms was so familiar, but he was also kissing Jaskier, which was new- 'Great gods, I am kissing Jaskier, I am kissing Jaskier, I am-'

He pulled back with a triumphant grin, evidently startling his bard. "What?" he asked, very confused.

"I am kissing you," he announced, his grin widening even more.

Jaskier frowned. "That you are, but-"

"I am kissing you," he said again and pecked him on the lips. "And I can keep doing it."

"Oh!" The frown eased away, giving way to the softest of smiles. "That you can, my dear."

So, Geralt did. Again. And again. And again, and again, and again. He didn't know how many times he had kissed Jaskier, how many times Jaskier had kissed him, before he pulled back and blurted: "I love you."

Jaskier stared at him in silent awe, before blushing and cupping his cheeks gently. "That you do, my love," he whispered. "And I love you, too." Softly, he pressed their lips together again.

"You do?" Geralt asked disbelievingly.

Jaskier smirked. "I do. For years and years, I have. I thought you knew."

"Fuck," he muttered. Did that mean... 'I didn't have to do any of this.' He could've just- "I'm an idiot."

"Only sometimes," he allowed, giggling sillily. Geralt was compelled to join in. "Besides, you’re my idiot, and I love you for it." He shifted a little, so he could lean his head comfortably onto Geralt's shoulder despite them being nearly the same height.

"So," Jaskier drawled, curling a strand of Geralt's hair around his finger, "are we just going to keep standing here, or...?"

He scoffed. Of course, they wouldn't. He had a plan, after all. "Fuck." The plan.

Jaskier raised his head. "Is that a curse or an answer?"

"Yes," he answered warily.

It earned him the most beautiful snorting laugh he had ever heard. "What are you cursing at, love?"

"We skipped Step Eight," he admitted, "got right to Step Nine."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Step Nine: Kiss Jaskier." The poet just gawked at him. "I had a list," he explained.

"You had?" Jaskier's eyes lit up and he made grabby hands. "Show me, show me!"

Reluctantly, Geralt handed it over, studying Jaskier's face carefully as he read through it.

"I knew it," Jaskier concluded finally.

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on!" He threw up his hands. "You were acting weird all year round, Geralt! Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but still, weird. It took me about ten minutes to figure out there was some ploy at play." He laughed quietly and waved the paper around. "Though I never would've guessed what was amiss."

"You don't like it."

"On the contrary! It's a wonderful plan," the poet said and pecked him on the lips. "I've got to admit, though, Lambert was right: you should've just fucked me on that rug once we got here."

"Hmmm." Geralt nuzzled against Jaskier's neck, holding him closer when he tried to squirm away from the tickling sensation. "That still an option?"

"Very much so. I believe it has to be one more step before completing your list." He pulled him close and whispered against his lips: "Take me to bed, my love"

And how could Geralt refuse such a request? Especially if it coincided so luckily with Step Ten.

#my writing #the witcher #geraskier #elliestormfound #look i've got an ask #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #eskel #Lambert #vesemir #kaer morhen #kaer morons

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galactic-magick · 3 years

Text

I Choose You: Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Summary: Your parents and the Ootoris set up an arranged marriage between you and Kyoya for business reasons.

Words: 3100+

Warnings: swearing, angst

Author’s Notes: uhhhh so my hand slipped and I wrote a whole ass Kyoya fic cuz I love that bitch I’m not sorry. (btw normal text is present and italics are flashbacks. Gender neutral pronouns and language for reader!)

Your reflection in the mirror haunts you. It hurts. You can’t pretend it’s all a nightmare anymore, this is your reality. The reality you didn’t choose.

But maybe you would if the circumstances were different.

Servants, tailors, and seamstresses are fluttering all around you, making adjustments to your wedding ensemble. It looks perfect, more than perfect. It’s everything you ever wanted, and it looks amazing on you. You continue to stare at yourself in the mirror, knowing how proud your parents would be when you walked to the front of the wedding ceremony. They would be happy, even if you weren’t.

Your parents business has been failing for months now, and they needed to fix it fast. The Ootori family agreed to help if you married their youngest son as a symbol of the partnership. Of course your parents wouldn’t threaten you if you didn’t do it, but you knew how much they needed it. You’ve always known there was a chance you’d end up in an arranged marriage anyway, even if you’ve also always dreamed of love. You were willing to give up a love marriage in order to help them, and after all, you could certainly do worse than Kyoya. You knew he’d treat you well and provide for you, and quite frankly you couldn’t imagine him caring enough to hurt you or bother you.

“Thank you so much again for making this deal with us,” your father nodded.

“Of course. Your company has quite a few valuable prospects,” Mr. Ootori smiles.

You gazed at Kyoya across the room, who’s barely made any eye contact with you the entire time. You could tell he wasn’t thrilled about this either, but there was something else, something more than disinterest. Was it anger? Determination?

“Shall we leave them alone for a bit? They should get to know each other better if they’re going through with this, don’t you think?” your mother suggested, gesturing to you.

“Certainly,” Mr. Ootori sat up and left the room, your parents following soon after and shutting the door.

“So…” you started, trailing off. What was there even to say?

Kyoya shot up from his chair and began pacing around the room, settling for a few moments by the window but soon going right back to pacing. He chewed his pen a bit, occasionally scribbling things down on his notepad.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He continued to ignore you, deep in thought.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me, but can we at least talk? I’m going to have to live with your ass for the rest of my life you know,”

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” his eyes finally met yours, almost so much it was frightening. “You’re quite attractive actually and I don’t see any reason we wouldn’t get along. But that doesn’t negate the fact that this was forced on us. We have every right to be angry,”

You were stunned that the first thing he said to you was so direct.

“I mean, I guess so,”

“My father doesn’t know how much power I truly have over his company. We could take it from him and make our lives whatever we want. We could continue to work together or we could separate if that’s what you desire. They’ll be sorry for forcing their will on their children,”

“What about my parents?”

“What about them?”

“They’ll go bankrupt without this deal. They’ll lose everything,”

“Their deal is with the company, not my father. Once I become the head I’ll make sure they get what they need,”

Damn, he really had all this planned out.

“How long will we be married before you do all this?”

“It will take at least a year, possibly two. Too quick and we’ll raise suspicion, too slow and we’ll miss our chance,”

You nod. It made sense, but you couldn’t help but feel cheated. He didn’t care about you in the slightest, he was simply using this unfortunate marriage situation for his own gain and revenge. What were you supposed to do for the short time you were married? Sit around his mansion and wait?

You huff, “Look, I’m glad you’re getting some good out of this, but don’t you think we should at least try to be friends? I’m not just going to sit here and be a tool for your masterplan. Whether you like it or not, we’re going to be partners for a while and I’d rather not spend it being bored,”

Kyoya blinked. Clearly he didn’t calculate any sort of relationship into his plan, and the fact you weren’t blindly going along with it confused him.

You roll your eyes, “Can’t we at least go out to dinner a few times? You know, talk a little bit?”

“That sounds dangerously close to a date,”

“So what if it is? You said yourself you think I’m attractive and you think we’d get along,”

“I suppose I did,” he smiled.

You decide to turn around, hoping not seeing yourself for a few minutes will distract you.

You sincerely hope everything will work out, hope that everything will turn out fine. You trust Kyoya, he’ll do anything he can to keep his word. Your parents will be taken care of. You will be taken care of. His excuse of a father will be out of the picture.

What will you even do when it’s all said and done? Go off on your own? Get more education? Travel? Find love with someone else?

The future’s never been more terrifying.

At least you won’t be miserable. You can tell Kyoya’s made an effort to care about you throughout your engagement, he won’t be an awful husband for the year or so you’ll be married.

But does he really care about you? Or he just acting like it because you asked him to?

Kyoya picked you up in his limousine for your first “date,” taking you to a fancy restaurant downtown. Surprisingly he was the one to initiate conversations during the whole thing, asking you about your life, your hobbies, your interests. You found you actually have a lot in common, and you end up talking for hours, literally until the restaurant closes and kicks you out.

“I would take you somewhere else, but I’m afraid it’s getting too late,” he said, opening the door of the limo for you to get in.

You frowned. You were actually having a really good time.

“Tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” he raised a brow.

“We could hang out again tomorrow?”

“Sure,”

You opened your eyes, awoken from some noise outside. You looked around, assuming it was just some branches brushing against the side of the house. You rolled over, trying to get back to sleep.

The banging starts up again, and this time when you sat up you could almost swear you saw a hand through your window.

You stood up, trudging over and opening it.

“Kyoya? What the fuck are you doing?!”

“It’s tomorrow,” he smirked. You gaze at the clock. He’s right, it’s nearly 1 AM.

“I never pegged you for the sneaking out type,”

“Well, I do most of my best thinking at night, so I like to sit on the roof or go for a walk once everyone’s asleep,” he took a look at you in your pajamas. “Would you like to accompany me?”

“Give me a sec,” you shut the curtains and slipped on some clothes and freshened up a bit. You returned and started climbing out the window, Kyoya helping you get down to the ground.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

“This was your idea,”

“I suppose so,”

He ended up leading you to a small park his family owned, with a little pond and some benches and trees. You sat down and looked around, listening to the distant sounds of the night.

“I misjudged you, Kyoya,”

“You thought I was an asshole, didn’t you?”

You laughed, “Yeah, just a bit,”

“I certainly can be, I won’t claim otherwise,” he sat down next to you. “But I’m not opposed to expanding my horizons. You offered a valid point. A friendship and partnership may very well be in our best interests,”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “There you go again with your best interests shit,”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re telling me that you’re only trying to be friends with me because it’s in your best interest?”

“Is that…not how friendships work?” he squinted. “I am interested in being friends with you. I am interested in being your partner. Why does that upset you?”

“Because you’re talking about me like my love and respect is something for you to take or gain,”

“I apologize,” he hummed. “I’m afraid I don’t have much experience in the type of relationship you want,”

“You’ve never had a real friend? You’ve never cared about anyone for who they were more than what they could give you?”

“No, I have. Just not many,”

You almost felt…bad for him. He was trying, at least.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t be so harsh,” you looked at him. “I know we can make this work. We just need to be patient with each other, that’s all,”

“Alright,” he agreed.

You continued your conversation from earlier, and things felt good again. You really do get along well, it’s a shame you weren’t actually in love.

You check your phone, seeing a text from Kyoya sent just a few minutes ago. You open it, and he’s asking where you are because he wants to talk to you. You tell him no, not today, but he insists.

You stop responding, figuring no matter what you say he’ll come anyway. You didn’t tell him where you were, but a quick questioning of a few servants and someone would tell him.

You don’t particularly want to see him right now, not like this. This is your time to feel bad about yourself and lose your mind worrying about the future, and he’s not going to help that.

You don’t hate him, quite the opposite, but he’s only a reminder of what you have but could never be.

You and Kyoya have gone on several more outings over the past few months, and it’s getting closer and closer to the wedding. He’s taken you to all his family’s properties, resorts, parks, and more. You’ve gone to almost every restaurant in town (yes, even commoner ones, you both found it entertaining), and you’ve spent many nights walking around the city. You’ve spent days indoors playing board and card games and watching movies. You genuinely enjoyed spending most of your free time with him.

But tonight’s a bit different.

Tonight you won’t be alone, on your own terms. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner, and of course both your families were going overboard. Barely any of it was going to be spent actually rehearsing for the wedding. There’s going to be dancing, food and drinks, and basically a party all night long.

Everyone’s going to be watching you, everyone’s eyes are going to be on you.

You met up with Kyoya after getting ready so you could walk in together. You put on your most formal outfits, besides the ones for the wedding a few days from now.

When he saw you, he averted his gaze immediately as if he’d just caught you naked.

“You look good,” he coughed.

“So do you,” you laughed.

He offered you his arm and you took it, walking down the hallway into the ballroom.

You had to do an awful lot of greeting before doing anything else. Everyone wants to talk to you and congratulate you, even people you swear you’ve never met in your life. There’s a mix of family, friends, and other business partners. Some people were probably there simply because they could be due to their status, and had no interest in the celebration whatsoever.

When you’re finally free of conversation, you raced to the table to grab some refreshments. They prepared the best food possible, including some of your favorites.

Kyoya found you again just as you were finishing, offering his arm to you once again.

“May I have this dance?”

You almost choked, “You dance?”

“Of course I do. So is my fiancé going to refuse me or not?”

You smiled and shook your head, giggling a bit as he drags you to the floor.

No one was doing anything particularly complicated, just waltzes, and thank goodness that was the case. You could barely think straight from everything going on.

Surprisingly Kyoya wasn’t a stiff dancer, his movements were consistent but flowed perfectly with the music. He held you closer than you thought he would, but gently.

You felt your body heat up and chills in your stomach and down your spine. How are those two things even possible to happen at the same time?

Well, shit. You weren’t actually falling for him were you?

You thought these past few months would be tedious, but they’ve actually been some of the best of your life. Kyoya’s become your best friend, and gosh you want to spend the rest of your life with him. You understand each other. You both want to break away from your controlling families and finally find your own happiness. You can spend hours talking about everything and nothing. You can make each other laugh like no one else ever has.

Maybe this arranged marriage could become a love marriage. Just maybe.

But no. Kyoya made his intentions very clear. You doubt he’s developed the same feelings for you. He may see you as a valued friend, but he’ll fell nothing when you inevitably break off your relationship in a couple years.

Kyoya must’ve noticed you zoning out in thought, because he stops dancing and brings his hands to your shoulders.

“Are you alright? Do you need some air?”

You nodded, and he leads you out onto the balcony outside the ballroom, keeping a hand on your back.

You take a deep breath, desperately trying to compose yourself after your realization. Should you tell him? No, absolutely not. Bad idea.

Why did this have to happen? Now you were even more miserable. Were you really so weak that you had to catch feelings?

“It’s going to be fine, you know,” he assured you. “I know it seems overwhelming, but by the end of the week we’ll be on our own and they can’t constantly be on our backs anymore,”

“Yeah,” you sighed, your breath stopping in your throat. “Do you think anyone will notice if I leave? I’m exhausted,”

“They probably will, unfortunately,” he looked out at the view. “But we can stay out here until they notice,”

“Thanks,” you grumbled. Your head was throbbing.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You managed to survive the rest of the night, barely.

You tried to get some rest, you have a fitting tomorrow, and then all you have to do is wait for the big day.

You’ve been standing here for at least an hour, and you’re starting to get irritated. How long does it take to fit something? It looks fine.

You turn around again and stop breathing for a moment when you see Kyoya in the doorway. His hair is ruffled and he looks like he didn’t sleep at all, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I’d like to speak to my fiancé please,” he says.

You look away.

“Absolutely not! Don’t you know you’re not supposed to see each other’s outfits before the big day?” one of the tailors pipes up.

“Well, seeing as I already saw it, I don’t think it matters,” he motions for them to leave. “You’re dismissed,”

He waits until they’re gone before he approaches you, but by that time you’ve fallen down and started crying. You’re shaking on the edge of the platform you were standing on, your hands covering your face.

“You’ve been avoiding me all morning. What’s wrong?” he asks.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” you sniffle. “For everyone else this is the best time of their life. But it’s not for me,”

Kyoya crouches down in front of you.

He doesn’t cut in, so you keep going, “Look at me. I look great, I look just like how I wanted to as a kid, but it’s all wrong. Everything’s wrong. I thought I was okay with this, but I’m not. I hate this. I don’t hate you, but I hate this,”

You keep sobbing, trying to pretend he’s not there watching you. It’s not too hard actually, since you can barely see through the tears.

“Well, I suppose this might be the worst time to tell you what I was planning to tell you,” he tries not to laugh as not to be insensitive, but it comes out anyway.

“W-What?” you rub your eyes, seeing him a little clearer.

“I know this won’t fix anything, but I want you to know I do genuinely care about you. It was never part of the original agreement or plan, but I’ve come to feel more for you than I’ve felt for anyone. I just…I want you to know that. You’re not a tool to me anymore,” he takes a deep breath, “I love you,”

You stop crying for a moment, too shocked for the tears to keep flowing. Did he really just say that?

“I understand that you probably don’t feel the same, which is alright. I will still honor our original plan, get you everything you wanted, and allow you to leave whenever you please. But if you’ll have me as your husband, a real husband, you’re welcome to stay,”

The sobs break out again, barely able to get out the words, “I love you too,”

“You do? Really?” his eyes light up.

You nod vigorously, beaming through the tears, “Yes,”

“But you just said you hated this? That you were miserable?”

“Only because I thought you didn’t feel the same,”

“Oh,” he chuckles. “Well then,” he takes your hand and places his other on your cheek, looking into your eyes. “Will you marry me? Please?”

You laugh, “I guess,”

He smiles and pulls your face to his, kissing you softly. You take the initiative to deepen it, slithering your fingers into his tousled hair. He’s the last to pull away, and immediately pulls you back for more, even when you can barely breathe.

You can feel him smiling against your lips, his thumbs wiping all your tears away.

You thought you’d never know what it was like to be truly loved.

But now you do.

More Author’s Notes: This is my first time writing for OHSHC lol. Might dabble in it more in the future cuz I had a blast writing this XD Hope you enjoyed and feel free to tell me what you think!

#kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #ohshc #kyoya ootori #ouran x reader #ouran high school host club

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weareallstoriesintheend · 3 years

Text

Promises (Reader x Zemo)

Zemo and his guard make their escape

Word Count: 3,395

Warnings: Violence. Part 2 of the Escape Series, Here is Part 1 Zemo Tag List: @lucky-luck-lucky @neoarchipelago @mrs-mischief-209 @londoninamerica

“This is a terrible fucking idea” You kept Zemo close behind you as you rounded the tight corner, the deafening sound of the alert alarm had started blasting the second someone realised a prisoner was no longer in their cell. You’d tried your best to get as far through the plan as possible but part of this involved trusting him to get you both out of here and something irritating in the back of your mind was making you doubt that decision. The corridor was in darkness except for cuts of light from the small windows high up towards the ceiling - sunrise was almost over. “Well I hate to inform you my dear but I’m just following your plan” Zemo whispered back, following closely at your heels as you both half walked, half ran down the corridor. “Also, may I add, you look beautiful in this light”

“Shut up” you hissed.

The alarms blaring in the corridors were making your heart pound almost as loudly. You were running out of time, you know you’d planned this down to the last second but this was reckless in the best of circumstances. The Raft was no normal prison; it was a prison for enhanced persons which meant security was tighter and much less likely to fail. Early morning was your choice due to the lack of guards around on each floor; you’d made it so that you were on inspection duty again. Due to the limited prisoners things had gotten lazy around here and you figured you could only make this work to your advantage. It was going well, it was perfect even. You’d given up trying to avoid cameras as you ran down the service corridor towards a blind spot you knew existed that would give you a moments respite ready for the final step. You would bet money on the fact they knew it was you doing this so as much you were aiming to get himout it was also imperative to get yourself out too. Who else would it be? It was Zemo and there was only one person in this whole place who would want to break his cocky ass out and that was you.

“Your friend better show up” you whispered through gritted teeth trying to steady your breathing.

“He will” Zemos breathing was just as fast but his face remained stoic. He watched you when he thought you were looking, curious eyes scanning your face. You presumed he was calculating how best to get rid of you when he was out of this place but you were doing this to give him the benefit of the doubt. Much like everyone else The Raft housed he was here because he thought he was doing the right thing. Everything he did was for his family and you couldn’t help but feel for that side of him. The man who kept his promises.

You rifled through the backpack you were carrying and handed him a pair of dark jeans and a black hoodie to change into “Wear this; I’m not walking you around wearing that uniform”. He smiled taking them from you instantly pulling the top of his prison uniform over his head; you hastily diverted your eyes. Both of you were huddled in an enclosed part of the corridor to stay out of sight of anyone who may come searching, a great choice for safety. However this also meant that, despite the fact you diverted your eyes, you could feel his bare skin brushing against your arms as he moved to change.

“I’ve had guards watching me use the bathroom for months dear one, do you really think I’m concerned by you seeing me change?” he chuckled quietly before handing you his discarded clothes, “Also how did you know my sizes?” he asked adjusting the hoodie that sat perfectly across his shoulders.

“I read your file” you shrugged. Your phone beeped in your pocket, the message simply read ‘On the roof’

You grabbed Zemo by the scruff of the hoodie and pulled him closer “Do exactly as I tell you, got it?”

He nodded “Of course, a woman in charge is simply irresistible”

You scoffed and started dragging him along the service corridor. There was an access point to the roof along here that stupidly sat in a complete blind spot from the cameras. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you heard a clear, ringing gunshot behind you “Stop right there” You sighed, knowing the gruff tones of your superior officer anywhere; you raised your hands mockingly and spun in place on your heels staring him down. Zemo followed your motions throwing you a quick, indiscernible look before his back was turned to you. “Of course it would be you. You and your boyfriend better keep your hands up where I can see them” “David listen – “ he cut you off by firing another warning shot. “Shut up” he shouted, voice reverberating off the metal walls. He reached up and spoke into the radio that was clipped to his shoulder. “Did you bring what I told you too?” Zemo whispered over his shoulder. You stuttered, your brain was going at 30 miles an hour and it was hard to keep yourself on point. You knew exactly what he was talking about; you could feel the metal of it pressing into your back. “Yes but no, you can’t” you mumbled, your eyebrows raised in panic as Zemo turned to you. You internally rolled your eyes at how surprised you felt by his calmness, it was like you’d forgotten who he was.

“I said don’t move” you heard David shout, another warning shot hitting the roof. You flinched and urged Zemo turn around with wide eyes.

“It’s now or never. Do you trust me?” Zemo asked simply.

You paused, searching his face for any sign of deception. Sighing you lowered your arms, you blocked out the frantic shouting from David as best you could by keeping your eyes trained on Zemos. You could see David in your periphery with his gun raised; you slipped your hands behind your back and under your shirt. You pulled out the weapon you’d been given by Zemos friend and slotted it into his hands.

Before you could blink Zemo spun with the gun raised. You had expected him simply to shoot but he began walking slowly forward towards David, you panicked and your feet stumbled after him. He shot one hand back firmly to stop you before returning it to its steady position holding the gun.

“Stop right there Zemo” David shouted, his gun also raised and trained on Zemo who was steadily still walking towards him. You could see Davids confused panic matching your own.

You shuffled on your feet wanting to shout out to him to stop, did he have a death wish?! Then you remembered the story he’d told you about Siberia and your heart pounded harder. He’d held a gun in his hand then too but you certainly don’t have the bulletproof Blank Panther armour to stop him this time. ‘Please tell me he’s not going to commit suicide by cop and just leave me here’ you thought to yourself, begging to the voice inside your own head. David was practically screaming instructions, ranting demands in his confusion at Zemos steely defiance. Then before you could ascertain what happened Zemo fired a shot. David dropped – it was that quick. Mere seconds. Blood oozed slowly out onto the cold concrete floor and you stared half in shock.

“You know for a man who was always so hot on officers wearing protective uniforms you’d think he’d a least wear a scrap of armour himself” you whispered, thinking out loud. As Zemo reached you once more you tsk’d and smacked his chest hard “Don’t show off like that again!” He chuckled and tucked the gun into the back of his jeans. Pushing his hair back he then gestured to the laddered stairs that lead to the roof, “After you” You made your way to clamber up the ladder, “Don’t stare at my ass!”

-------------------

As you reached the roof the helicopter blades were already going, winds blasted you both causing your hair to swirl in front of your face. You watched Zemo greet the pilot with a small wave and he began walking forward towards the open helicopter door. For some reason it was at this moment your body froze. Your hair whipped your face and you struggled to stay in place with the force of the winds but you couldn’t move your feet. You’d given up everything, just like that – he’d somehow convinced you to give up everything for him. There was no way to come back from this, not one single way.

You wanted to scream at yourself for being stupid or naive but you couldn’t help yourself - you trusted him. You didn’t understand how or why but you did; something about him made you want to follow him to the ends of the earth and never look back. If someone asked for an explanation you wouldn’t have the words and that was a strangely beautiful notion to you.

Something told you he was a good man; despite his past and all he had done he was a good man. He had murdered, tortured and maimed but to you he was a lost soul who needed company. A man who had lost everything and fought like hell to keep one simple promise.

He shouted your name over the whirring blades, you looked up to see he had stopped also and he was running back to you, crouched low to avoid getting hit.

“Second thoughts?” he asked as he got close enough to you to lower his voice, a small smile played on his lips. You shook your head but didn’t speak. He stepped closer to you again, almost toe to toe “I apologise about your friend”

“H-he wasn’t a friend”

“Then why did you stop?”

You opened and closed your mouth stupidly, like a fish gasping for air, but no words came out. You felt him cautiously put his hands on your upper arms, running his thumbs over your skin.

“I promised I would protect you, you deserve a life outside of this prison as I do” You noticed that despite the strength of his Sokovian accent it was also calm and delightful in its gravelly tone. You found it almost comforting listening to the way he formed his words so delicately.

That was the moment you realised it wasn’t that you didn’t believe him, as he spoke you trusted what he was saying, you trusted he wasn’t lying. It wasn’t Zemo that had made you stop.

“It’s just… this is the first time I’ve been in fresh air in 9 months”

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your admission before his face softened, he reached up and ran the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He didn’t speak but took your hand and pulled just a little. You staggered on your feet but followed, he placed his hand softly on the back of your head as you both moved together to keep you low and out of harm.

He stepped in first, speaking in Sokovian to the pilot whom he called Oeznik. Scrambling in behind him you gathered your backpack between your feet. You sat huddled against him as a deep shiver wracked through your body. He looked down with sympathy set behind his eyes and leaned his arm across your shoulder. You leaned forward out of his touch suddenly and bent down for your bag.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean too-“ he began hesitantly, afraid that he’d offended you with his physical affection, but you stopped him by sitting up and placing a small plastic wrapped package into his lap.

“What is this?” he asked curiously, turning it over in his hands before unravelling the wrapping slightly. Small hard multi-coloured candies tumbled out into his waiting palm.

“Turkish Delight. You said your son liked them.” you blushed at your own words, embarrassed at the familiarity you showed him and you were unable to hold his eye contact as you continued “I thought it would a comforting introduction back into the world”

He unwrapped a sweet and popped it into his mouth, he closed his eyes and a soft smile spread across his face. You watched him for a second before he opened his eyes; you gave him a shy unsure look before he leant in and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you milaya”

-------------------

“Holy shit” you whispered under your breath.

The room he led you into was expansive, he’d told you this was one of his homes in the area but the place looked like a palace inside. Everything was adorned in deep ornate gold tones with rich ruby and burnt orange colours intertwined. The ceilings were impossibly high and housed a huge crystal chandelier that twinkled in the beaming sunlight that came through large elaborate windows at the back of the room. The floors under your feet were intricate mosaic tile and you suddenly felt the need to tread a little lighter in your heavy boots.

“Impressive isn’t it?” he smirked; he gesticulated to a rack of clothes that was against one wall. “You need to change, pick anything you like” and with that statement he disappeared behind a curtain. He was still sort of visible to you, ruffling around in what you presumed were his own clothes.

“So what, I break you out of prison and you give me a dress? Seems like a fair deal” you said sarcastically, voice raised so he could hear you.

“No, you break me out of prison and I give you the life I promised you. If you want it” he shouted back.

“You’ll be on the run for the rest of your born days Zemo. What life?!” that panic had set back in again now you were out in the real world. Your fingers tapped against your thighs and you stared around you wide eyed. This was all so overwhelming.

“Exactly. We can go wherever, whenever. We’ll stay in the shadows and live how we want too”

He appeared from behind the curtain, he was now dressed cleanly in fresh black jeans and an aubergine purple turtleneck. He draped a fur collared coat around his shoulders and extended his arms “You like it?” he grinned at your staring.

You swallowed hard and nodded. He looked expensive and far out of your league. As you absentmindedly smoothed rich silk materials between your fingers you suddenly remembered you’d run away with a Baron. The teasing smirk still played on his lips as he approached you, he traced down your arm watching the way his touch raised goosebumps on your skin.

“You think people are just going to let you go? The Raft will be looking for you. The Wakandans! You think they are just going to let this slide?”

He shushed you and pushed hair out of your eyes “What I said was no lie, you deserve a life and I’m going to give it to you. A woman as skilled and beautiful as you deserves to show off no?”

You swallowed again, nodding gingerly at his words trying to convince yourself more than him to calm down and trust him.

“Why am I picking out dresses?” you asked quietly, noticing you were still slipping silk material through your fingers that belonged to the beautiful dresses far beyond your pay grade.

“We’re going out” he said matter of factly, walking across the room and pouring himself something from the decanter on the side.

“We can’t go out!” you protested frantically, abandoning your dress choices and scurrying after him. You grabbed him by the forearm of his free arm and gripped him tightly.

“I’ll only take you to places where I know you will be safe. Let me show you freedom” he whispered, leaning close to your face. Whispers of whatever golden brown liquid he was drinking filled your nostrils and you exhaled the breath you had been holding. He put the glass down and spun you so your back was against his chest, his breath ghosted over your exposed neck and you resisted the urge to shiver. He directed your body towards the wrack of clothes and brought his lips to your ear, “Plus any chance to see you out of that guards uniform would be a blessing”

You tutted and wriggled out of his grasp, rolling your eyes at him over your shoulder before turning away hiding a blushing smile.

You hummed to yourself, pushing clothes back and forth on the rack before you pulled out a wine red dress, admiring its beauty. The red was deep against your pale skin, the feeling of the silk was like butter and the thought of it brushing your upper thighs made you tremble.

Like he could read your mind Zemo had walked quietly behind you and placed a hand lightly against your thigh, brushing his fingers with just a little pressure. His voice at your ear snapped you out of the trance “It will suit you”

You took the dress, grabbing a pair of shoes, and sauntered behind the curtain. Gingerly starting to remove your clothes that were sticking to you with sweat you thought about how you could probably do with a shower but something told you there was no time. Your body was thrumming with anxiety, your first night of freedom from that place – for the both of you – and mostly you wanted to relax and enjoy Zemos company. Talking to him without bullet proof glass and steel bars between you seemed like bliss in your head. The thought of getting to brush his hair back as he spoke, like you had thought of doing so many times, made your fingertips tingle. But you were still fighting back a nervous tremble that shook your entire body, was this going too far? Was it too soon? He could sense your anxiety from behind the curtain as you moved quietly but hastily so he spoke up, voice soft “I mean it, you are mine. I keep safe what is mine” You poked your head out from behind the curtain holding the gold shoes you were about to slip on; you raised a stern eyebrow at his presumption that you were ‘his’. He smiled, playfully trying to peek behind the curtain but you pulled it up to cover yourself “You know what I mean” he said.

You giggled and pulled the curtain back fully, watching his eyes drift down your figure as you smoothed the silk of the dress over your curves self-consciously and bent to fasten the shoes, “I know” you said with a soft smile.

He guided you closer to him with light hands, just the cautious tips of his fingers creating a tantalising pressure on your hips, “You look simply ravishing” he gushed; accent accentuating the low gravel of his voice. You simpered and shook your head, he tsk’d at your defiance “You do, a princess!”

You openly laughed this time, pushing against his chest teasingly “Shut up”

He smiled with you, refusing to let go of your hips and pulling you back, the heels of your shoes clicked quietly on the tile floor as you stumbled closer to him raising your hands to press against his chest to steady yourself. He drifted his hands up your body, caressing you through the thin fabric of your dress, eyes studying every inch of you. His fingers linked gently into your hair, massaging ever so lightly against your scalp and you sighed closing your eyes for just a split second. Suddenly you felt lips press against yours; you gasped and he took that chance to deepen the kiss just a little. You whimpered softly and your fingers tightened their grasp on his clothes before sliding down to wrap around his waist as you melted against him. This wasn’t a moment for hot and heavy; it was affectionate and shy – a delicate exploration of something new, terrifying and captivating. As you felt him lean slightly back from you your eyes fluttered open, body protesting his momentary retreat.

“I keep my promises” he whispered against your lips.

“I know you do”

#mcu #mcu fic #marvel #marvel fic #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x ofc #baron zemo x reader #zemo x you #zemo fluff #zemo fanfic #oeznik #zemo angst #baron zemo fic #zemo #falcon and winter solider series #falcon and winter soldier #tfatws

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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

diamond trail I — myg

Plot: The theft of his most elusive and mystery possession leads to a web of trickery that threatens every large syndicate in the country. (alternative: Yoongis’ prized possession is stolen but he’s not the only gang leader being betrayed)

Pairing(s): Mafia Boss!Yoongi x Consigliere!Y/N

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 4k+

Genre: Mafia | Marriage | Mature Themes/Fluff/Smut

Tags & Warnings: criminal activities, mentions of past abuse (outside of the pair), explicit smut (spanking and very brief anal play), mild violence, coarse language.

Authors Note: it’s here friends!! i’m still a little rusty in terms of writing fanfiction after a while so please be kind lmaoo

A huge thanks to @casuallyimagining and @aroseforyoongi for helping with the proofreads!

Gold Dust held patronage of all heads in the underworld, allowing them to orchestrate the most exclusive and grandest auctions. You and Yoongi walked through the vault doors, hands intertwined with one another as two suited guards led you down the velvet lined stairs. Your footsteps silenced amongst the beating music of the club above. Your chest relaxed as soon as the soothing violins and piano touched your ears in the underground facility. Black marble walls and pillars encased you along with the sea of Italian silk suits and satin gowns.

Yoongi huffed at the very sight of them. All of these blank slates were products of a long-running nepotism. He might’ve been the only one alive who succeeded a popular gang leader. Then again, his father lived far too long for his own good and had way too many wives to be considered human.

What annoyed him further was the organization. Only the benefactors received private booths. The non-patrons had to be squeezed in with a potential rival in order to provide more benefits for the ones funding these events.

The suited guards stopped at the front booth on the right. Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek until it almost drew blood when he saw their seating partner.

“Min! Didn’t expect to see you crawl out of your hole.” Kim Namjoon wore the smile of a champion with the attitude of a diseased rat. Since he was part of the three oldest gangs alive, there was much respect to be handed to the man. Except Yoongi had no interest giving him the satisfaction.

So Namjoon made a goal to make his life a living hell.

Namjoons’ eyes flickered over to you, smile softened but gaze sharpened. “The beloved consigliere.” He raked up and down your form. “You look a lot better without business clothes, my lady.”

Yoongis’ grip on your hand tightened as you sat down on the other end of the booth. You pat the back of his hand as a silent comfort.

“Remember why we’re here,” you whispered.

Yoongi nodded. “I know.”

Normally, Yoongi brushed past events of pure greed and showy behaviour. However their syndicate suffered from a planned robbery a week ago. Only one item taken with precision: his mothers’ diamond gun. Everything else was untouched, barely shifted. They knew what they were doing.

You managed to trace it down to Kim Taehyungs’ annual auction. It’ll be natural to assume that Taehyung was the thief but most auction presenters had nothing to do with direct theft. More often than not, they were connected to the thieves to ensure that their place in the web of connections was concealed. Or at least delayed until they could escape to a safe house.

The room darkened; a spotlight shone down the stage. Kim Taehyungs’ lean figure stood proud, adorned in a red silk shirt and his hair curled. A ruby clip glimmered on the side of his head while his rings practically danced on his fingers. “Welcome my beautiful patrons to another friendly exchange of luxuries.” A calculated smile tugged at his lips. “I must say I’ve never seen such variety in a small listing before so this will be one for the ages. The underworld is aware of our rich history, our legends and ancestors who built this country without a trace of credit.”

Taehyungs’ words silenced the crowd to a point where you had to check they were still there.

“Tonight, I have items from each of these legends. Specifically the eight who strengthened that foundation.” Taehyung held a fist up. “Are you all ready?”

An applause indicated their approval earning a satisfied grin from Taehyung.

“Our first item belonged to Don Hayoon of So Pa.” He waved his hand for an assistant to roll the stand into center stage. “A vase made from ox bone and inlaid with gold to create this beautiful marble pattern. Don Hayoon allegedly made it himself during his years of retirement.”

So Pa disbanded eleven years ago due to a police raid in majority of their warehouses but they must’ve missed a few things. Yoongi wondered whether it was taken from the police or the gang itself. The whole retirement story must’ve been a ploy. Don Hayoon had arthritis which is why he had to retire in the first place before embarrassing himself in front of rivals.

Obviously none of these idiots would know that and Taehyung was milking it for what it’s worth.

The price was called and the cards flew up. Anyone with that vase in their house would gain prestige in seconds. It’ll be talked about from all corners of the underworld. Eventually a smug woman in a red suit won the bid.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hold your hand up, Min,” Namjoon spoke. “Considering you’re probably the only person who’s met Don Hayoon.”

“I’ve met him. I’m sure that’s enough for me to go on.” Yoongi landed his hand on your thigh, soft pink chiffon under his rough palm. He squeezed for some kind of comfort and glue to stop him from losing brain cells too early in the night.

“Considering the nature of your parents, I expected you to have more style.”

Nails dents could’ve formed your skin with the way he dug into your thigh. “Darling.” You pulled off his hand.

“Sorry.” Yoongi rubbed the area to somehow soothe it.

“The second item on our list belonged to Don Chun Hei of Mal Pa.” The assistant pushed in the second stand, holding a rose gem necklace which stood on a black velvet altar. “Chun Hei was best known for working closely with the mayor. Her reforms are the very reason these auctions and many other underworld events can be held with elegance and class. This necklace was a gift from the mayor himself. The rose gem is meant to be a culmination of diamond and rose quartz. Whoever made it has long since disappeared but this necklace has carried on this wonderful legacy.”

Chun Hei was someone both you and Yoongi could respect without question. Mal Pa had no age or prestige in the time Chun Hei made a connection to the mayor. She took her simple street gang and turned it into a professional syndicate that still lasted to this day.

You wondered if her descendants knew just the impact she had to the underworld. This item caused a stir amongst the crowd, suffusing the air with an eerie atmosphere of confusion and even anger. As the prices were called out, you noticed two people constantly raising the stakes to the peak until one of them gave up when it stretched too far. Except the one who gained the artefact didn’t look happy. You discovered that the anger came from them. The diamond gun may not have been the only thing stolen.

How many gang leaders was this thief trying to anger?

The power of auctions was the need to be elegant and impressive. Despite a small portion of the crowd knowing what was going on, they couldn’t say anything. Underworld events are where no leader has ultimate power. Everyone had to stay quiet and let the auction proceed.

“The necklace would’ve looked lovely on you, my lady. Perhaps I could buy it off as a gift.” Namjoon rested his hand out on the back of the couch so his fingertips were a breath away from your hair.

“No thank you,” you stated plainly.

If Yoongi didn’t have enough fuel to kill Namjoon before, it was brimming now. Every ounce of patience layered around him so he could sit still on his chair and let the auction go smoothly. He wasn’t going to raise his voice nor his hand first.

“Our third item is a notorious one at best. The famed Sapphire Assassins’ ledger.” Murmurs of recognition spread across the crowd. “Her true name was Mishil, right hand to Don Sungho of Jwi Pa. Sungho was an ambitious gang leader who believed the country’s underworld should have an ultimate master. He anointed himself and hired a professional assassin to kill everyone off on his hit list. Mishil listed all her killings down in this very ledger.”

Excitement coursed through your body seeing the battered old ledger. The blue covers patched with black ink splotches and the pages were tinged brown. You imagined the different ways she could’ve formulated her assassinations; the connections she had to make to be successful in such an elaborate scheme.

“As most of you might be aware, Mishil succeeded in the deaths of many gang leaders. However three gangs were able to execute her and Sungho before chaos could reach its full potential. To this day, no one has ever pulled a deed this vast and destructive. Not a friend to most of our gangs but there is surely a sense of power by having her failed ledger displayed in your home.” Taehyungs’ smirk marked success as soon as he called out for the prices.

Power was a key word to this crowd. While the more hardened members like Yoongi and Namjoon knew it was just a play for sales, Taehyung didn’t relish in the shouting any less.

While your angle wasn’t for power, your fingers still twitched to raise a card. Curiosity tugged at the back of your head, wondering how Mishil managed to gain that many openings and occurrences. Her techniques would’ve been useful in future assignments. All the syndicates you could manipulate for deals and contracts. Getting out of contracts. Anything. So many pieces of information must’ve been overflowing out of that ledger, calling out to you like a siren song. With a small sigh, you calmed the adrenaline pumping through your veins. This auction wasn’t a pleasure trip. You needed to focus.

The ledger was handed off to a man in a navy suit. At best, he would display it on his study like a fool. What a waste.

Reaching into your crystal clutch, you brought out a notepad and pen. If you couldn’t get the ledger now then there is a chance something could be arranged later. The auction was reaching its halfway point which meant the most valuable items are to come now.

“This fourth item belonged to Don Daeshim of Tokki Pa. The gang leader who drove away international syndicates striving to take over the country’s underworld. A bit of a hero. Rumor has it, he took a few drops of blood from each of those international associates and filled this goblet to the top.” Taehyung waved his fingers over the goblet mouth, mesmerizing the crowd like a herd of animals.

You observed the price calling with a brutally sharp eye. It might not seem valuable in the business sense but international associates may have had families and the like. Someone who might want compensation at the right time. You scribbled the description of the one who received the goblet. Thankfully, they had a noticeable scar down their left cheek with a distinguished citrine ring that was only sold by two jewelers.

“I wonder what it’s like having to work for someone you’ve married. Must be a pain hearing requests left to right.” Namjoons’ comment caused another stir in Yoongi but you stayed calm.

“If you think a consigliere simply takes requests then I feel sorry for yours. God forbid they find out they might be worth something more.” You narrowed your gaze.

“The Lady has venom.” Namjoon chuckled. “I mean no insult, of course.”

Yoongi tried to hold in a scoff, biting the inside of his cheek.

Silence spread amongst the three of you as Taehyung announced the fifth item: a gold mask once used to suffocate the Don of Yang Pa so his son could take over quicker. The sixth item was a First Lady’s dress which held at least a kilo of cocaine, hidden in every rhinestone and gem in small portions. It was later confiscated by the police but Gold Dust always knew how to make use of their connections.

Then seventh item caused a stir in Namjoon. For the first time in the night or ever, you noticed a sense of true and pure fury twisting his features.

“Our second to last item is a jade bracelet that belonged to Don Nari of Sutal Pa. A gang as full of mysteries and tragedies as its main rival, Gae Pa. Don Nari was the default leader after a tragic fire struck the Kim family. Leaving her and her young brother the only living descendants.” Taehyung lightly pressed on the bracelet, causing sharp gold spikes to spread out of it. “This was her weapon of choice. People had the habit of grabbing her wrist when they wanted to make a point so she had this bracelet made to show that she was untouched.” He blinked slowly.

“You son of a bitch,” Namjoon whispered under his breath.

“You’re not the only one riled up, Kim. Calm down.” Yoongi glared at Namjoon both as a warning and courtesy nudge to protect himself from embarrassment. “Don’t raise your hand.”

“Fuck off,”

“Namjoon,” Yoongi warned.

Namjoon shifted on his seat, fingers itching to grab onto his gun and shoot the auctioneer right in between his brows.

For once, Yoongi shared his anger. Of all the things they could take from them, they had to target the most precious object tied to a painful memory.

You noted down the buyer immediately. Park Jimin. He was a chain restaurant owner distantly associated with Yoongi but he soon began delving into arts dealing. He should be the easiest one to track down.

Yoongi had been slightly distracted by Namjoons’ downward spiral. His heart jumped before his mind caught up at the sound of his mothers’ name.

“It’s my honor to present to you our final item. The Diamond Gun of Min Areum.”

The gun rested inside a glass case lifted by a velvet lined platform. Lined in gold, encrusted with diamonds, glimmering brighter than the stars in a country sky. Everyone in the audience murmured in excitement, eager to lift their cards for the bidding.

“She was the First Lady of the oldest syndicate alive, Gae Pa. Her life as the wife of Don Min wasn’t pretty and filled with troubles. One day, she took her son to a mysterious jeweler and gave away all her diamond and gold jewelry. See this jeweler specialized in beautifying weapons and he made this priceless work of art. The same gun, Min Areum to shoot down Don Min and take over as Don herself.”

Yoongi could’ve sworn that Taehyung directed a smirk at him. Mocking him of the fact that he had such a prize in his midst. Flailing it right in front of him as a form of public humiliation.

Cards practically flew up to the ceiling in their sheer speed. Prices thrown from the left to right giving Yoongi a headache. He could hear his mothers’ voice, the small purple bruise on left eye as she took him to the jewelry shop every week. It was their only time of peace.

You reached out and touched his thigh, bringing his attention back.

Then a familiar voice brought you both to a still.

“Sold to Kim Namjoon!” Taehyung announced while the crowd huffed and cheered.

Yoongi glared at the man.

“What? You never said I couldn’t buy your shit.” Namjoon relaxed back on the couch, unrelenting in his own glare.

As the auction concluded, Taehyung announced that an afterparty will be held at the top level of Gold Dust. You noticed most of them were ready to jump off their chairs and kill him but he’d already disappeared backstage. Most likely straight to his vehicle so there was no time for anyone to act.

Yoongis’ body radiated a thick air of heat and the glares shared between the two leaders were sharp.

“We’ll settle this where there’s less people, gentlemen. Calm yourselves.” You glanced around at all the patrons and attendees either excitedly murmuring or harshly whispering. It was a strange atmosphere tonight. One can only wish there won’t be any bloodshed.

***

“Are you fucking serious? You know fully well it was stolen from me!” Yoongi growled. Both gang leaders were toe to toe in a dark corner of the club. Others were mingling on their own problems and issues with the auction and some were close to losing their inside voices.

“And I bought it fair and square. Don’t you think it’s a little childish that you’re simply asking me for it?” Namjoon spoke through gritted teeth. “Now get the fuck out of my way. I have business to deal with.”

Yoongi pressed a hand on his chest. “I could give Jimin one word and you’ll never find that bracelet even if it was up your own damn ass. So stay put.”

“I’m the last person you can scare with status, Min. You know this. I’ll snap my fingers—” he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. “—and your wife will be on her knees for me.”

Yoongi pulled out a small silver blade and pressed to Namjoons’ neck. Eyes darkened in fury. Hungry for a taste of his blood staining the floor, for that face to twist in despair.

“Stop it. Both of you.” Your voice struck firm as you pushed them apart. “Don’t you understand why this auction took place?”

Yoongi and Namjoon stared at you in confusion. You sighed in annoyance.

“Someone is trying to play with your minds. Causing you to drop blood so they don’t have to get their hands dirty. Why do you think all those artefacts were dumped into one auction? Where almost all the gangs of this country were attending?” Your eyes flickered from Yoongi to Namjoon. “Doesn’t that sound a little strange? From the naked eye, you’d think they were just silly but clearly—” You gestured at the both of them. “—whatever they’re trying is working. No one knows who the thief is. That causes suspicion and rumors.”

“We start blaming each other for spilling information,” Yoongi continued.

You nodded, relieved that some understanding spread through their faces. “We need to regroup in a neutral zone. Gold Dust isn’t that anymore. Once we find a place and time, we’ll figure what needs to be done. For now, separate.”

The leaders shared another sharp glare at each other before Namjoon walked away. Some of the heads that were turned to them now moved back and Yoongi hid his blade.

“Where’s the fucking restroom?” Yoongi hissed. You took his hand and led him over to the left side of the room, slithering through the crowd.

Two guards were already situated at the doors as Yoongi kept a grip on your hand when you walked into the restroom. The bright lights made him groan in annoyance.

Anyone who saw them enter immediately rushed out. The tension in the auction was so high that nobody wanted to be found near an angry gang leader.

Yoongi leaned forward on the marble sink, breathing ragged and his limbs shaking from anger. The last memory of his mother now rested in someone elses’ hands. Why couldn’t she come up with something less physical? Something that couldn’t be stolen. Namjoon was holding it now. I’ll snap my fingers. He was right. He had the power. There was no ultimate leader to call the shots. Just however reached the flag first. And if he reached first—no. He shook his head. Namjoon wasn’t the problem right now.

He let the water run, wanting the sound to drown any visions or thoughts that made bile reach up to his throat.

“Yoongi,” you muttered, rubbing his arm. “You okay?”

“I tried—I kept my cool but—when you mentioned you—” he rubbed his face roughly. “I—fuck—I could’ve killed him. I could’ve killed him.”

“But you didn’t.” You caressed the back of his head. “It’ll be okay. I know it feels like all the strings that surfaced are jumbled but they’ll come together. We’ve been through much worse than this, okay?”

Yoongi sighed. “I remembered her for the first time in years.” He chuckled sadly. “I thought I lost those memories a long time ago.”

You felt your eyes burn at his voice cracking. Yoongi never talked about his mother. There were only vulnerable moments in the dead of night when Yoongi couldn’t sleep. That was the first time he ever mentioned her. The first time she saw tears in his eyes. “We’ll get it back. No matter what, I promise.” That promise engraved in your mind.

***

The next morning, you rose in nothing but your champagne silk robe and sat at your study. Handwriting letters until your fountain pen emptied of ink and the steaming black coffee turned tepid. Park Jimin held the Kim familys’ prized jade bracelet and Namjoon held the Min Familys’ diamond gun. Clearly, the scandal spread further than the two gangs but your current priority is ensuring a war won’t break out between Namjoon and Yoongi.

Jimins’ death would also result in only chaos.

Gold sunlight gleamed through the white transparent curtains, beaming rays reflecting against the dark mahogany of the study table. Despite the mess in your brain, the morning itself was peaceful. You made sure Yoongi slept a few hours longer than normal so his daily alarm had been temporarily disabled.

Everytime he drowned in his emotions, Yoongi worked himself to the bone as if to make up for his vulnerability. You knew that would only taint the progress they had so far on the investigation.

You sent the letters out through different messengers. They will be followed through an underground trail until it finally reached the two gang leaders. Cupping your now hot cup of coffee, you let out a deep breath, emptying your lungs of the stress as you looked out the painted window of your study.

There was still time left to relax before they started work. Giving the empty cup to a maid, you walked back up to your bedroom.

Yoongi stirred underneath the white, cotton sheets. Bars of gold light shining down his pale skin through the blinds and a cool air kissed your flesh.

Door locked, you padded closer and gently climbed onto the bed. Yoongi draped a tattooed arm over your waist with a drawling hum under his breath.

“Where’d you go?” His voice vibrated through the fabric of the bed, cheek pressed against the pillow and raven hair covered his eyes.

“I sent letters out to the leaders for a meeting.” You kept your voice soft, caressing the dog silhouette on his arm.

Yoongi groaned in annoyance. “I really don’t wanna talk to that asshole. Can’t we do it another time?”

“The most important thing in the world to you has been taken. This is the meeting that’s going to help you get it and you’re going to back down?”

Yoongi rubbed his face before staring at you. “The most important thing in the world to me is lying down right here.”

You smiled, fingers tracing his chest. “The second most important then.”

“That’ll be our dogs.”

You chuckled. “Darling, you know you want it back. This is also going to prevent any brawl between Jimin and Namjoon.”

Yoongi hummed in agreement. In the moment of silence, he reached out and cupped your cheek. You leaned down and kissed him. You moved down, peppering kisses on his jawline and neck.

Yoongi let out a shaky sigh as your lips grazed his chest, gentle brushes against the tender skin where his prior wounds used to be. Trailing your tongue down his torso, the blanket slid off the edges of the bed.

Your hand reached down and gently cupped his crotch, earning a hiss from the man. Yoongi grabbed onto your hair, breaking the kiss so he could look at you. You graced him with a smile. Biting down your lips, you descended down his stomach. Slow pecks down his torso as your fingers hooked the hem of his boxers.

Pulling down the soft material, the tightening member sprung up, blushing at the tip. With another smile, you wrapped your lips around the tip and swallowed the length until it disappeared into your mouth. You closed your throat around his tip before pulling back. Yoongi hummed. Heat exuded from his body blocking out the cool breeze of the air conditioner, adrenaline seeping through his exhaustion.

Spit dribbled down your chin as you took his length again, bobbing you head. Your free hand wrapped around the base, squeezing until you heard a whine. Yoongi fisted the sheets and the other hand buried in your hair. Madness clouded his mind watching your head bouncing on him, drooling at the edges of your mouth and tears glossing your eyes.

Fire burning in the pit of his belly, he held onto both sides of your head and thrusted into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat making you whimper. He felt the tightness of his release just hearing the sound of your gagging. The way you obediently stayed still as he fucked your throat. Your panties felt heavy and hot with your arousal, desperately needing to be touched. One hand snuck under your robe, rubbing the soggy material.

Yoongi pulled his length out, enjoying the way you tried to catch your breath before staring up at him in tears. Pulling you back up, he flipped you both around until your body was bent over the soft bed, cheek pressed against the sheets. Pushing up your robe and pulling down your panties down to your knees, he positioned himself at your dripped entrance. Without another warning, he pushed himself in. The sheer squelch and stretch could’ve had you unraveling in seconds.

Vulnerabilities of the early morning had you dripping and softened to the slightest touch of ecstasy. Yoongi shared the same impatience as he fucked into you. Barely any remorse, arousal splattering at every thrust. Nectar dripped through the expensive sheets as the bed shifted from his movements. He grabbed your shoulder to push in deeper until the soft walls of your cervix hugged his tip.

Your moans and his heavy breathing melded together in a melody that reverberated throughout the bedroom. He nudged a thumb through your rim, pushing and hooking before pounding into you again. You fell full and overwhelmed, wanting to explode and fall apart.

You gripped onto the sheets until her nails dug into her own palms. Yoongi pushed your dress up further, caressing your back before smacking your bottom. Another whimper left your lips. He smacked it again.

Yoongi turned you around, lifting you onto his lap. Your back rested on the wood headboard as your arms wrapped around his neck. Sleeves of your robe drooped down your shoulders, barely hanging onto your body. Arousal squirted out of you making both of you laugh. Yoongi let out a blissful sigh as he quickened his pace. The headboard could’ve cracked from the pressure, breathing short and rapid like the speed of his thrusts. Lips latched on the curve of your neck as the pleasure trembled through you.

Before he could mutter anything, you felt the warm liquid burst inside you. Filling your womb until it spilled through the sheets. Yoongi snuck his hand between your legs, pushing you to the edge as your lips barely brushed against each other.

Bliss burst at the seams, ricocheting through every limb until your legs trembled, clasping tight around his hips. Yoongi kissed your jawline and your temple. “Fine.” He breathed out. “One meeting.”

You giggled as your breathing tried to catch up. “Good.”

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